Haladras (30 page)

“I come offering what I offered you before. Salvation.”

“All I want from you is for you to go shrivel up and die in
some hole.”

“Now, now...” replied Morvath with perfect composure, “you
brought this entirely upon yourself. I warned you of the possible consequences.
You ignored them. You must learn to own up to your mistakes. A cannon blast may
have killed your father, but it was your doing that put him in harm’s way. No
one had to die. You made it so.”

“It was your forces who came against ours. You are the true
murderer. You should have recognized the authority of my father, King Athylian
and surrendered.”

“I was merely doing my duty to the empire. I am bound to her
ruler, King Tarus. As for that man being your true father—impossible. Athylian
has been dead these fourteen years. I saw his remains.”

“No,” blurted out Skylar. “He was Athylian. I know it.”

“Dreams, my dear prince. Mere fantasy. Wake up from it. Wake
up from the whole imaginary world those around you have weaved. Come with me to
Ahlderon. Let no one else suffer from your foolishness.”

“Never!” shouted Skylar, raising his sword to strike. At
that same instant, Endrick rushed into the tent. Both met with nothing. Morvath
had vanished.

TWENTY-NINE

“Y
OU ARE CERTAIN
it was
Morvath?” said Krom on the morning following Skylar’s encounter with the black
figure in his tent.

“Who else could it have been?” said Skylar. “No, it was none
other. I have no doubt.”

“You saw him too?” he said, turning to Endrick.

“Great Yurik, no! I’d have sliced him to bacon strips had I
caught that swine.”

“Was there any sign of intrusion? Colonel, did your men
sweep the area? He must have left some kind of trace,” said Krom.

“My men made a thorough scan of the area, Sir,” replied the
colonel. “Nothing was found.”

Krom turned back to Skylar, a look of doubt evident on his
face. Skylar knew what must be passing through everyone’s mind.

“It wasn’t a dream,” said Skylar. “I was as awake as I am
now.”

Krom considered Skylar for several moments, rubbed his
stubbled chin.

“I don’t know what you saw,” he said after a time. “Men do
not appear and vanish without a trace. What more, I cannot fathom how he might
have entered Haladras and our encampment undetected. Still, I want Endrick at
your side at all times. I will speak to Captain Arturo about tightening our
border security.”

That was all Krom had said on the matter. It was obvious no
one really believed Morvath had entered their encampment. Skylar himself began
to feel less sure of it as the day wore on. Whether it was a dream, an
apparition, or Morvath in the flesh, one thing remained unchanged: Morvath’s
words had left Skylar doubting.

As much as he hated to admit it, he doubted about the
justice of their rebellion. Doubted about his father. What if Morvath was
right? The thought made him dizzy, confused. For not the first time since his
life had been turned upside-down he distressed over the difficulty of judging
what was right.

The next morning, they held a council of war. This time,
instead of playing the role of silent observer, Skylar made his voice and
thoughts known. No longer could he live in the shadow of others. He must learn
to lead.

“I wish to end this conflict as soon as may be,” he said as
the council deliberated on their next course of action.

“I agree,” added Rasbus. “The sooner, the better.”

“Of that, I advise against,” said the tall regal figure,
whom Skylar now knew to be Lord Rowvan of Allega, his grandfather. “The Castle
Ahlderon is a mighty fortification. To come against it would be to come against
a mountain.”

“Then we will crush the mountain,” boomed Rasbus.

“Not without a great loss to our own forces.”

“And I want to avoid imperiling our troops at all cost,”
said Skylar. “Already they have suffered much. What do you suggest, Lord Rowvan?”

“Thank you, Prince Korbyn. My plan is simple. We lay siege
to Ahlderon; choke her off from the rest of the empire; block the flow of
provisions to her; we starve her until Tarus is forced to send out his army
against us in open battle.”

“Yes, but how long will that take?” said Arturo. “Six
months? A year? More? Our own troops must be sustained as well. An expensive
endeavor. It becomes, then, a battle of endurance and patience. No, we must end
this quickly, while our provisions are adequate and the soldiers’ spirits
high.”

“Either option has its risks,” added Krom, speaking out for
the first time. “Like Lord Rowvan, I feel an attack on the castle is perilous.
Yet, I fear what Morvath might contrive should we give him sufficient time.”

“I fear him more than all Tarus’ soldiers combined,” said
Skylar.

“We are fighting an army,” said Rasbus, “not a single man.
That snake Morvath does not frighten me. Let him send out his mechanical
butterflies against us.”

“All very well, my brave fellow,” said Lord Rowvan, “but
unless you can attack the castle from the inside out, it is futile.”

Skylar was about to respond when Krom spoke again. “With
that, I may be able to help.”

*  
*   *

He hated the idea of leaving Haladras again. At the same time,
he felt relieved. Nothing but painful memories seemed to be left for him on the
planet he called home. He visited his mother one last time before the ships
embarked for Ahlderon.

“I would tell you to be careful, again,” said his mother.
“But I don’t think you would listen to me. Endrick told me how you were hurt.”

She hugged him tightly.

“If the busy life of a king permits it,” she said, “try to
visit your lonely mother once in a while.”

She said it lightheartedly, but tears were already forming
in her eyes.

“I’ll never be too busy for you. But you will not live here
if I am ever king, but on Ahlderon, with me.”

She smiled and laughed lightly, as if the idea were nothing
but a fairytale.

“Did you ever go talk to that little friend of yours? The
one with the pretty red hair?”

Skylar shook his head bitterly.

“There’s still time,” she coaxed.

“Perhaps a little, but what good would it do? Everyone close
to me just gets killed or maimed beyond repair. No. She’s better off without me
in her life. I only bring trouble.”

*  
*   *

Ahlderon—his home planet, the crowning jewel of the empire,
the envy of the galaxy. In all his recent travel, Skylar had not seen any place
to compare with it. Its beauty and splendor far exceeded anything he’d ever
beheld.

It felt immense, too, full of majesty and power. It made him
feel small and insignificant to look at it. His confidence waned.

The heavens above the capital were teeming with transports,
merchant ships, jetwinged fliers, two-seaters, shiny speeders, and a hundred
other types of crafts he’d never seen before. So many, they might have been
clouds against the azure sky. These darted, glided, or hovered above a thousand
towering buildings, piercing upwards with their glinting spires or square
profiles. The entire city was built around a great hill. Outside the city,
verdant rolling hills swept away in all directions; to the north, snowy
mountains; to the south, noble forests. Overshadowing the entire scene, atop
that green hill rose a mighty fortress, the Castle Ahlderon.

“Welcome home, Skylar,” said Krom who had come to join him
at the window. They were traveling in the Luna. Krom, Endrick, Grüny Sykes,
Rasbus, and Skylar were traveling ahead of their army. In the Luna they hoped
to avoid attention. Seeing the sky filled with ships, Skylar felt reassured
that no one would pay them a second thought. A few other merchant shuttles,
filled with Haladrian soldiers, were headed to the nearest space-traffic probes
on Ahlderon. These were secreted at strategic points on the planet’s surface.
Points which Krom knew well. With the probes disabled, their military ships
could enter the planet unannounced.

“It doesn’t feel like home,” replied Skylar.

“Don’t worry, it will grow on you quickly. It’s a far more
beautiful land than the one you call home.”

Krom almost sounded happy as he spoke. Something Skylar had
not detected in this stern man’s countenance before.

“I’d rather live a thousand years on Haladras if I could
have my old life back—everyone alive again,” he said softly. Then, “Do you
think we can do it? Can we bring down Tarus and his oppressive regime?”

“Evil shall always fall where good men are willing to
stand,” answered the old Krom. “The Spirit King shall speed our cause.”

“Just like he did on Haladras? Where was his army of angels?”

The hint of bitterness in Skylar’s voice was not lost on
Krom.

“They were there...they were there. Though your eyes may
have been blind to them...”

“Then why did they let my father die—the true king? Why did
Kindor die and Rolander lose his arm?”

Skylar continued to stare out at the city below. He had not
spoken in anger, but as one confused, in despair.

“Death is not a punishment for the just and noble, but the
beginning of a life in a realm of all the great kings who have ever lived in
our world. Mourn their departure from us. But grieve for them not. They are
better off than we, for we must continue the fight.”

Despite Krom’s unsatisfactory answer, Skylar did not reply.
He had no heart to pursue it further. So he remained silent, pondering Krom’s
words, wishing he could see with his own eyes what had become of his
father...of Kindor...of Grim. Absently, he clutched at the tiny leather pouch
hanging from his neck beneath his tunic.

“The limbreath,” he said, turning to Krom. “What is it for?”

“Limbreath—a plant with supernatural virtues, some claim.
Legend tells it comes from Elydar. Grim spoke to you of Elydar, I believe.”

Skylar nodded solemnly.

“I have not heard anyone speak of limbreath for many, many
years. It has ever been rare, much of it counterfeit. Apothecaries used to
crave it like a lame bird craves to fly. To most, now, Elydar is naught but a
myth, and with it limbreath.”

“But it’s not, is it?”

“No more a myth than you or I. Alas, I cannot tell you what
it is for.”

“I’ve heard it will make your breath turn fowl if you put it
in your mouth,” interjected Endrick. “Might come in handy if we’re attacked by
a hoard of dainty maidens. Make ‘em faint outright.”

Skylar smiled, but insisted that Krom explain himself. Krom
either couldn’t or wouldn’t reveal any more than he already knew.

“‘To use in your hour of greatest need,’ as your father
said.”

Skylar did not have a chance to reply. Grüny had just
announced that they would soon be landing. He took his seat with the others,
fastened himself in, and prepared to disembark.

Dark cloaks provided their disguise as they stepped out onto
the landing pad of the cramped commercial port nestled within the heart of the
city. Grüny, well known among the pilots and port masters, did not attempt to
hide his identity, and acted as though he were merely conveying a group of
paying customers.

“Priests,” he said gruffly to the port master, as he made
some pretense at unloading their luggage. “Just arrived from Kyndoo Yavi. Here
to see the king.”

The port master nodded his head and spat on the ground.
“Seems like they oughta be traveling higher class than your old tub of bolts.”
He chuckled at his own witty remark.

“What...the Luna? She’s as fit as any ship here.” Then
added, as he turned away, “See that she’s taken care of, Jim. No passengers for
a day or so. Have some business in town.”

With that, he lumbered off toward the others, empty luggage
boxes in hand. Together they made their way across the port and into the
terminal, where Grüny deposited the luggage with his passengers.

“I’ll meet you at the ‘Ol Ironclad Tavern, near Crossroads
Square within the hour,” he whispered.

Then he pretended to bid them a cold farewell, turned and
walked away.

The streets of the city were packed full of bustling
traffic. People on foot jammed the edge of the streets. Transports sped by in
both directions, mere inches away from the flowing foot traffic. Kids Skylar’s
own age zipped by on speeder bikes and jetwings, weaving in and out between the
oncoming traffic.

Forced to press themselves against the side of the
buildings, the companions laboriously traversed their way up the street.
Numerous times an opposing walker shouldered Skylar, sending him staggering
backwards and fighting to keep up with the others.
How can there be so many people
in one city?
Skylar wondered. He felt suffocated and feared they would
never arrive at their destination.

As they moved along, though, the crowds gradually began to
thin. The sun, now setting, left the narrow streets in a darkness which was
only relieved by pale phosphorescent lights embedded into the sides of the
buildings. Krom led their little procession on in silence, moving swiftly and
surely through the labyrinth of streets. Despite the darkness, the streets
still seemed busy to Skylar. Nothing like the abandoned streets of Dura Cragis
he once navigated alone at night. Speeders and transports still continued to
race by in either direction. And street-bound walkers still passed by in small
droves.

At last they arrived at an old ramshackle tavern, at the
street level of a derelict building. The crooked sign above the door read The
‘Ol Ironclad and bore a faded painting of a sword crossing a shield.

“Speak to no one,” was Krom’s only instruction before
leading them inside. It was a dark and gloomy sort of place. A place where one
might hide in the shadows of a booth or far corner without attracting notice. A
place where one went with intents other than to merely partake of food and
drink. A place of purpose.

The companions sat in a booth far removed from anyone. Krom
ordered them a loaf of bread, some cheese, and meat pies.

“Eat heartily,” said Krom. “We have a long night before us.”

They ate in silence, and, for Skylar’s part, without relish.
He felt no hunger. Yet he forced himself to eat to preserve his strength. After
what felt like hours, Grüny Sykes rejoined them, he too now wearing a hooded
cloak. As the captain of the Luna ate, Krom went over their plans.

“Our first object is to get inside the castle,” he spoke in
a low whisper. “There are but two ways inside: through the gates or an
underground passage, whose location few in the empire know. Beneath the castle
runs a secret river, from which it draws its water supply. A defense mechanism.
Should an enemy besiege the city, he could attempt to cut off the city’s water
supply by damming the Misted River, but the castle’s water would never run
dry.”

“And how do
we
get underneath the castle?” said
Rasbus. “Where is this hidden passage?”

“Through the sewer.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” said Endrick, “I knew I shouldn’t have
volunteered.”

Krom paid no attention to Endrick’s outburst.