Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) (15 page)

Princess Kitara felt the faint breath of breeze against her skin. Desperate fingers caressed the stone wall, searching for the door she knew was there in the pitch darkness. Some time ago she had been carried blindfolded into this place and left, the blindfold removed, for all the good it did. The sound of the heavy door closing and the lock clicking shut was the last noise she had heard other than that of her own sobbing.

For ten days the Kiroba had escorted her, and each dawn that came found her both thankful Andrak had not found her, and lamenting that rescue had not come. After Hagar had carried her away from their camp that awful night, they had travelled on foot for some hours before they had regained mounts and continued their journey on horseback. All the while she was blindfolded and gagged, except for when she ate and the gag was removed. She was allowed some freedom when the need for relief came across her, which she feigned several times for the respite of the bonds that bound her day and night. She rode behind somebody at all times, and she wondered if it were Hagar. She contemplated several times pulling them both off the horse, for no other reason than to try and hurt the Assassin.

After ten days they entered a city from its sounds and smells, which Kitara still employed. It was a large city, though it was night when they arrived and few people were about. She heard snatches of conversation, and combined with the small of fresh salt water, she guessed they were in Cartyl. It would have meant they had reversed their course during their flight from the camp, but it was the only large town or city on the coast within ten days ride from where they had been in the Blade Mountains.

But why Cartyl?

These Kiroba were Dak'marian assassins, which meant they should have been headed for the safety of their home, but Cartyl was a city of docks, where boats were more prevalent than carts, and sailors more common than the people of Cartyl themselves. It was also a known region where pirates, smugglers, law runners and bounty hunters lived. If anything, it would allow them to gain passage via boat to the southlands where they could travel to Dak'mar faster than on horseback, but she calculated the distances and times and knew even by fast boat, the schedule would have been within a few days of each other anyhow considering the ten days they could have been travelling south instead of north  west.

That the door was the only viaduct for air she doubted, so she began an almost futile search for other accesses: grates or ducts of any kind. There were no visible windows, though with the day not yet dawned outside, she could see no outline.

Unfortunately, she was not given the opportunity to find any of this out as the rattling of the lock drew her attention. She dropped to the ground where she had been searching, having already found one narrow metal grill set into the hard wooden floor, though it was not large enough that she could get her arm through, even if she did remove the metal cover.

The door swung quickly outwards, a small safety precaution as it did not allow her to get behind it or slam it back in anybody’s face, and a tall figure stood silhouetted in lantern  light. For a moment she thought it was Hagar, but it was another Kiroba whom she did not recognize.

“
You will come now!”

The man's tone caused her to close her mouth on an acerbic response, as it showed he would brook none of her retorts. He held a gag in his hand but did not make to use it as she moved to him, but he obviously meant to if necessary.

Without further word he turned and let her follow him, an almost arrogant action considering his weapon was not drawn and she was within easy reach of it. She realized he was confident of his own skills and abilities; certain he could handle anything she might try.

Plus, there were the two others who dropped silently in after them after closing and locking the cell door. No, his confidence was well founded indeed.

The hallway was not in a cell block as she had expected, at least not in a dungeon, more like a row of small rooms like sleeping quarters in a school or temple. The walls were of polished wood, dark  grained and free of blemish, which made her think of a temple, with sconces bearing unlit torches every few paces. She could not discern any dominant smell other than that of the wooden panels and the musty air.

A large metal door was set in the end of the corridor, which ran past several other wooden doors, and grimly she wondered who, or what, may have dwelled behind each, and for how long.

The metal door was unlocked and unguarded, though a more perceptive person may have noticed the peepholes and slight outline of secreted doors to either side, along with the small slits that darts or arrows could be fired through if necessary. Opening it, the Kiroba had no more need of his lantern as warm torchlight danced along the marble inlaid hallway beyond.
The floor of checkered white and grey tile clicked loudly under her boots, though the Kiroba seemed to float upon the smooth surface, making hardly a sound.

Although lavish, they saw no others as they wound through several corridors, passing many more doors of dark wood, some reinforced with iron, and none were open to show what lay beyond. The torchlight gave way to lanterns after a time, until they came to a large door. This one was of silver and ivory, with three strips of wooden panels running vertically down it. Whoever owned this building had spared nothing on expense, it seemed.

Without pausing, the Kiroba pushed the heavy door open and stepped through, not allowing Kitara a view before she too had entered behind him. When she did, the beauty and elegance of the room far surpassed what she had expected.

The room was a vast hall, thirty paces across and half that again in length. Two rows of three slender marble pillars sat like silent sentinels, their surfaces ridged and twisted in spirals. Tapestries adorned three of the polished wooden walls, showing a varying array of scenes and imagery, though none hung on the end wall where a small hexagonal platform rose from the silver floor. It was made of black stone, possibly obsidian, with three depressions in the front for steps.

Atop the platform were four people. Three were standing, while the last sat on a skeletal silver throne that was studded with many diamonds.

Two who stood were obviously guards, tall and dark  skinned warriors naked from the waist up, showing their heavily muscled torsos. They held before them, tips touching the platform, broadswords of dark metal, somewhat akin to that of the platform. They stood unblinking, though there was no mistaking their alertness.

The third standing person was a young woman, situated to the right and behind the seated woman. She was tall and lithe, though generously proportioned, with hair of dazzling platinum and large blue eyes. Her face had a sensuous cast, with high cheekbones and full mouth, her wide eyes making her face appear slender.

The seated woman was both alike and unlike the young woman at her shoulder. She had the same full mouth and dominant cheekbones, but her hair was long and as dark as raven's wings, while her eyes were only a shade lighter, appearing a charcoal grey. An elegant red dress of velvet hid most of a tall and slender figure, with the exception of a large portion of her shoulders and chest. She wore several pieces of jewelry including a silver braided bracelet, a diamond pendant hanging between her breasts, gem  studded rings and earrings that flickered in the bright light, and a slender tiara of silver and diamond. What was remarkable about her was the color of her skin, being pale, almost like pearl.

Four other figures stood before the small platform, of which Kitara recognized Hagar and his two companions, Adakar and Myrtti, while the last figure wore a militarist's uniform of black and blue, showing the emblem of the Duke of Cartyl on each shoulder. He was a small man with rusty colored hair and a hard face, his eyes small and darting. At his waist was belted a slender rapier.

Whatever conversation had been taking place before they arrived was finished, though whatever had been said must not have been pleasing for the seated woman, who glowered at the four men before her. She turned to Kitara with a smile, however, albeit mocking.

“
Welcome to Cartyl, Princess Kitara. Do you want for anything? Refreshment, perhaps?”

Kitara scowled at the woman's tone, but held her rising temper in check. What she needed was information, and she would not get that through being hot  tempered, which would probably have her thrown back in her cell in no time.

Although she was in need of a bath and some food, she shook her head graciously. “No, thank you, though I would like to know for what reason I have come under this duress.”

The woman's smile broadened, and her beauty struck Kitara, though it was a dark beauty that centered on her cold eyes. “That will become clear to you in time, Princess, but for now know that you are very valuable to me, though alive or dead it matters not.”

The open threat made Kitara bristle with anger, but she managed a curt nod. “May I return to my cell now?”

The woman found some humor in this, her shallow laugh echoing through the hall. “You have had chambers prepared, Princess, so you may do as you will there, but you may not leave them without order. Understood?”

Kitara made a mocking curtsy but did not answer as the Kiroba stepped forward to escort her from the room. She followed, this time out a door in the opposite wall to the one they had entered through, and barely saw where they went as she pondered her apparently hopeless situation. When she got to her new quarters, rooms joined together and divided with silken curtains, she knew that in all likelihood, there would be no rescue, and no escape. The Kiroba closed the door behind her, the lock clicking into place, both sounding and feeling like a coffin being closed upon her.

King Dhoric sat brooding, eyes vacantly searching the small flames in the burning hearth across the study, while occasionally he would relight his pipe for a draw. Around the room, numerous texts and scrolls were strewn about with seemingly reckless abandon, while sheaths of parchment jostled on the gentle wind through the partially opened window, waiting for him to continue writing his letters to the various nobles, not only of Ariakus, but all of Kil'Tar. These he would give to the Lore Students sent to him from the Astral City. One of their number had returned to the infamous place of study and knowledge, to let the Loremasters know of the fate of their Blademaster, Nortas. There would most likely be an investigation into what occurred, as it had to have related to magic, something forbidden during the tournament, and knowing the proud Dak'marian, there was little chance of him having tried using magic during the fight against Valdieron, even if he had been losing, which he was not.

The aloofness on behalf of the Loremasters concerned him, in that they had procured no further knowledge for him concerning the past events centered on the Nexus Gates. He had given the returning Lore Student instruction to find all he could on the subject, but that had been almost two moons ago.

Thoughts of Loremasters turned his musings to Ka'Varel. From what he could glean from the Lore Students, Ka'Varel had once been a Loremaster at the Astral City, but had left centuries earlier, which seemed surprising to Dhoric, though he knew Elves were not the only people whose life spans were long. The Students did not know the reason for his leaving, but any doubts Dhoric felt about this one-time Loremaster had been eliminated when he had allowed the magician to take Kitara and Andrak to Lloreander. One did not send two loved ones away with a stranger unless they were sure of his credentials and character, despite his mysterious reasoning. Besides, Dhoric knew if any place on Kil'Tar was safe, it was Lloreander.

A gentle tapping on the wooden door startled him, so deep were his thoughts, but he regained his composure quickly and was emptying his pipe when Kalamar pushed into the room. The chief spy nodded to the king, one of his many privileges when not in public, and he went to stand before the fire, despite the fact it was a warm spring day outside.

“
What news, Kalamar?” asked Dhoric, knowing the spy would not have come to him himself without some news or information he felt important.

The spy removed a folded piece of parchment from his coat and handed it to the King, who opened it curiously. On it was sketched an intricate drawing of a skeletal hand clasping a dark sphere. There was no writing on it, and he turned to Kalamar expectantly.

“
The Hand of Death!” remarked Kalamar softly, his eyes darting around as if the very mention of it would bring harm to him. Rubbing hands together and pausing for breath, Kalamar continued. “One of our agents in Garthtown sent word about nineteen days ago, that there was a fight at one of the local Inns, and one man bearing this mark was found dead there. The symbol had been tattooed onto the man’s eyelids. I had not seen or heard of such a symbol before, so I did some investigating.”