Mystic Firestorm 2 Page 10
Maybe, just maybe, he thought.
Allenor turned in a northern direction and wondered if the Dwarven trackers found them. He figured them to be dead from the massive destruction which wreaked havoc just north. The probability of finding the elven boy Dayven was far off, but as long as the Seekers did not take possession of the broken blade, he had time. He readjusted himself and gave Gweyn a smile. She wearily glanced back amused by his sudden change of behavior.
Down deep inside, Allenor knew they were on the fringe of destruction.
SEVEN
“Guilty!” the last Elder of the Nomads said in a harsh tone. The vote was unanimous, Prince Grandur had been sentenced to death along with Arieal for conspiracy to the throne of the Nomads. He did not speak a word as the guards escorted him back to the prison cell.
Arieal had been placed directly across from him, she watched as the harsh light glared in her eyes. The two guards brought him back and dumped him into the cage and locked it. Their footsteps echoed off the muddy stone floors and the huge iron door slammed shut sealing their fates. Arieal rose as the Prince laid there in deep thought. He did not understand anything that had taken place but knew that the Elders had mistaken him for someone else. Arieal hugged her knees and then rose to speak with him.
“What is it?”
“They have sentenced me to death. I am to be hung out between two peaks for one night. I will freeze to death by nightfall.”
“Did you tell them everything?”
“Yes, they think I am Prince Alec of Iclandia. They stated that I plotted wrongly to overthrow the Council of Elders and placed the Darkmages in power to rule. I don't understand any of this, but we must escape.”
“How can we when we have no idea where we are?”
“A small hidden Kingdom called Nomad. These people claim to be the original founders of Iclandia. They stated that their families had been executed, their children murdered and themselves exiled from their original homeland.”
“We will find a way out of this,” she said with confidence.
“Valendor and Ariq are fools and do not realize the mistake they have made. There was one man who seemed to be very understanding, his name is Shadown. He let me speak because he felt that something was not right, but the others removed him from the room.”
One question remained; how would they escape?
The next day had passed when they awoke to a huge man standing before them. His body was clad in wool wraps along with his face that was covered by a helmet which had a small jewel encrusted at the top. On his chest was a green emerald that sparkled brightly on a golden chain. The man eyed them up and down while rubbing the beautiful stone that flared in the dim light. Arieal was the first to see him as she stood up and faced him without words. She did not say anything while Prince Grandur stirred from a deep sleep.
“Do not speak,” the warrior managed while scratching his chin. The man rubbed his wristbands momentarily as the others stared in subdued silence. Finally, and without warning the man acknowledged the two captives.
“I listened to you and somehow I believe your words young Prince.” The man turned away before the others had time to answer. The wiry frame slipped gracefully out the door. Arieal queried into what his position was and came up with no answer. He appeared to be a higher royalty within this strange snow kingdom. The entire Kingdom was carved inside a gigantic mountain that towered into the sky, it seemed an eternity of rock and snow that barred any way of escape. Arieal's hope faded and she wondered how she would get out of this situation. They had been tried and sentenced to death, led through miles of ice caverns and thousands of steps, which seemed to borrow into the very earth itself. She turned away from Prince Grandur and sat down, her eyes were filled with tears and she wept. Prince Grandur watched and had no words to say. Ariq and Valendor had not listened to one word he had said. The Elders had prejudged him for crimes in which he never committed. Prince Grandur turned to see the Southlander hunched over and quietly crying. He felt compelled to comfort her but knew that her despair could not be appeased. Prince Grandur looked at the shadow as the warrior stepped forward and spoke.
“I am Shadown,” he said with a strong posture as he analyzed the two captives. “Do not speak unless I tell you to,” he said while his features registered a feeling of coldness. “I have been assigned to undertake your defense in these matters,” he simply stated. “I have little time before your execution.”
“What kind of place is this?” Arieal queried him while examining his response.
“Silence! Prisoners only speak when spoken to. One more word and you will face your death this moment.”
Arieal sat down while Prince Grandur continued to build up his anger.
“Later on, you will be brought to my chambers. We will talk then.”
“I wish to speak now!” Prince Grandur managed to say while the man nodded.
“Make it brief, extremely brief.”
“We have been judged to be executed tonight. How come we have another week to live?”
“Because I disagree with the Elders findings. It is my choice; you have not convinced me of your story Prince Alec. I want to know about the others that conspired.”
Prince Grandur was preoccupied with other thoughts and felt the wall of confusion reinforce as he fought to control his temper.
“Prince Grandur! Grandur,” he shouted at the man.
“I suggest you control your temper my young friend. I may be able to help you. There may be just one chance, but you must lead me into the Kingdom of Iclandia, you must help me to confront and defeat the Darkmages. If you do this, they may pardon you, but you must be willing to help.”
“What about Arieal?” Prince Grandur inquired with a flare in his voice.
“She's to die tonight.”
The man turned around and walked out while Arieal sat there in the dim shadows. The iron door slammed shut and darkness enclosed them once more.
Ariq paced back in on a rug covered floor, tapestries hung all over the walls as Shadown entered the room. Valendor trailed behind with an annoyed look on his face. The warrior threw a large log into the small burning fire and bent over the mantle. He looked at the smoke rising in the air. Ariq sat down and folded his hands on the large oak table which was covered with hundreds of scrolls and feathered pens. Shadown turned away from the fire to greet Valendor with a look of scrutiny.
“I am not pleased at all,” Shadown exclaimed harshly.
“We were ambushed at the Sloping Spikes by the Darkmages battalions. Most of my men were killed. They have cut off all our mountain passes. Their men have been strategically placed at every ridgeline, with archers and swordsman. We cannot use Ravenhold any longer because they burned the village. A few escaped and will die,” Ariq spat.
“You were careless!” Shadown slammed his fist down and clenched his teeth.
“You cannot blame him,” Valendor interjected. “We must set up a new hold to continue our supplies of weapons and food.”
“I am well aware of that!” Shadown pointed out, “but without supplies our people will perish in a months’ time.”
“We must use the Ice Tunnels,” Ariq pleaded.
“Too dangerous,” Shadown answered while Valendor nodded. The warrior took one of the maps from the table and spread it across. His finger pointed and traced along the Flatlands to Quakerun as his mind raced for an answer to their problem. Ariq stood up in disgust and paced back and forth.
“Why don't those old fools think of something?” Ariq cursed under his breath. “Why don't they come up with better ideas?”
“Those fools as you call them,” Shadown peered up, “are the ones that established the Nomad Kingdom. You forget that they were exiled from Iclandia by the powers of the magicians. We must strike a bargain with the Gnomes.”
“Can they be trusted?” Valendor asked, “I know that we had connections with them before we were exiled.”
“How do you know whether or not the
Darkmages have allied with them?” Ariq explained stubbornly.
“We do not have any choice,” Valendor added.
“No!' Shadown twisted around, “we will send out a small party of diplomats to strike a bargain.”
“Besides, we have another bargaining tool for them,” Shadown said coldly.
“What?” Ariq inquired as his dark eyes brightened.
“Prince Alec of Iclandia,” he managed.
“Ah, yes,” Ariq nodded with a gleeful smile.
“Valendor grinned at his fine catch, but for some reason felt uncomfortable about his two captives, Shadown sensed it immediately.
“You're troubled by them?”
Valendor nodded. “The boy states that he is not Prince of Iclandia, but the Prince of the Southlands.”
“Ridiculous.” Ariq breathed.
“I admit that something strange strikes me,” Valendor explained, “he was not dressed in the proper clothing. He seemed to be very confused and ignorant about the affairs of Iclandia and the murders that were committed. He did not even know about Quaid's wife and child,” he paused, and his eyes lit up, “that’s, it!”
The other two looked up in the flickering firelight that illuminated the thousands of books that lined the walls. “We can use the Prince to bargain with. Use him as a pawn,” Shadown said.
“Excellent!” Ariq stated with a feeling of pleasure.
“The Iclandian’s will pay dearly for their crimes.”
Valendor and Ariq smiled as they eyed the old beams of the room and watched Shadown who stared momentarily in silence. The warrior turned away and looked into the firelight, while the other two became silent. An expression of mood crossed over Shadown for a moment. He felt that somehow, he was making a mistake, but could not pinpoint what the error was. He turned and his eyes averted over to his companions with dissatisfaction.
“Suppose the boy speaks the truth.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” Ariq responded fiercely.
Valendor held up his hand to calm his friend. “What is it that troubles you so much?”
“None of us has ever seen Prince Alec,” he said coarsely, “Quaid is the only one who can actually identify him.”
“He was in Ravenhold when they were discovered,” Valendor said bluntly.
“Prince Alec better pray that he makes it back alive,” Ariq spat with discontent.
“We will wait and see,” Shadown said suspiciously as he turned and walked out the door.
“Something’s wrong,” Ariq whispered, “we best keep a watch on Shadown.”
“Why?” Valendor responded.
“I believe that someone leaked information to the location of Ravenwood. We better keep an eye on him.”
Valendor was speechless at his remark.
Midday approached as two spectral forms emerged into a wide plain of ice and snow. Before them Quakerun rose into the sky with its snow-crested peaks sparkling in the sunlight. A harsh wind blew along the Flatlands causing snowdrifts to pile up along the jagged bases of stone. The two forms looked west to see the rising structure of Iclandia. The entire mountain was covered with thick sheets of bluish ice that sparked a multitude of rainbow colors. Even though the sun was shining brightly, it could not take away the cold which Prince Alec and Lady Saunder felt. The Prince turned directly north and examined Quakerun. He did not say a word as they both stride forward, leaving their tracks in the light powdery snow. There were no signs of the battalions, which usually roamed the Flatlands, and the northern base of the Sloping Spikes. Prince Alec knew that by crossing the Flatlands he would be undertaking a dangerous mission. Lady Saunder kept up her composure even though the nipping wind blew harshly at her frail frame. Her gray wool cloak was wrapped tightly around her frame and a mask protected her face from the frostbite. Her blue eyes sparkled dully at the massive mountains that seemed an eternity away. Prince Alec turned and outstretched his muscular hand, his brown eyes gave a look of sympathy. Lady Saunder appeared to be exhausted and would not be able to make it without rest. Prince Alec knew that his only chance would be to make it to Gnomeholden by tomorrow afternoon. Prince Alec's unmistakable clef to his stout chin complimented him and his agility was like no other man's. Lady Saunder possessed a determined will to succeed in her mission to Gnomeholden. She had some apprehension about their mission, but she knew that the Nomads were tracking directly behind them. They had been ambushed in the Sloping Spikes and forced to go through the eastern pass. Prince Alec vaguely recalled the memory, but it was evident that the entire mission had already been known to the Rebels.
The wind hammered at them as they walked side by side, examining the vertical ice crests of Quakerun.
“It is cold,” Lady Saunder spoke as she glimpsed at the towering peaks behind her.
“Our only hope is Gnomeholden,” Prince Alec said reassuringly.
“Are you sure that the Darkmages set us up?”
“I am,” he said defensively.
“It seems impossible that they would plot against the throne,” she argued for a moment.
“I must rethink my strategy,” he said distressingly. “We must find a hiding place for the night. I am almost positive that they have dispatched riders to seek us out.”
“They would not be able to take over the throne,” she said flatly. “You have given me no reason to believe you except the fact that we were ambushed.” Lady Saunder took a breath. “Why would they conceive such a plot to destroy Iclandia? What can they gain from it?”
“Power to rule,” he stiffened against the dropping temperature.
Lady Saunder stepped wordlessly in front of him, her eyes reflected the sadness that she felt about the entire situation.
Her feelings of Iclandia were jumbled and she wondered which one of her friends had conspired to murder her. Prince Alec impulsively gave her a small hug and she kissed his cheek. Her mind was submerged in a sea of despair while the impending feeling of doom closed about her. Everything she knew was gone. It was unbelievable that one day she held the power over the people of Iclandia and the next it had been pulled from beneath her by the dark powers of the Mages. They started walking and he grasped her hand in friendship. She felt his touch of warmth that filled her with a desire, but she had to control herself. She knew that they could never be what she wanted. They would never be husband and wife because of their differences and because of their bloodline.
“Rule,” she managed to say to him.
“That's what I've said. There must be something else that we do not know about. There must be something that we missed.”
“There's nothing of material that they can gain.”
“Power,” he whispered. “The Darkmages can control Iclandia with their mystical Druid-like powers.”
“But why?” she watched the dark stormy clouds swarm overhead.
“To build an army. Listen,” he breathed, “this sounds farfetched, but it is possible that they could build an army to march.” She listened intently as he continued to speak. “They could take over the northern cities and cut off the major passes, restrict food supplies. It is a war that they could wage against the Nomads.”
“Suppose that they are protecting Iclandia. Perhaps the Nomads are to blame, and they are waging war. They have a perfect motive since their removal and exile over the years. Suppose they ambushed us and wanted to kidnap you. Suppose they used you to bargain for the release of other prisoners.”
“I do not deal in the politics of Iclandia,” he said as he examined the surrounding area. “Maybe, it is my own fault, but I know that they were not the Nomads.”
“How?”
“Because I recognized one of them.”
Lady Saunder nodded and continued walking forward. The dark ridges of Quakerun rose before them.
Prince Alec knew there was no turning back.
Nightfall came quickly as Shadown passed down a small stone hallway an made his way through a series of rooms. The warrior felt on edge all night long. He
knew that he had to act on behalf of the captives before their execution. Shadown knew that he was not a man of emotion, but one of justice. Shadown had fought for the Nomads and understood their position. He had been ousted from Iclandia and vowed vengeance on those who had opposed him. Shadown also knew that Darkmages possessed powers to protect themselves and oversee the affairs of the towering city. He would use Prince Alec as a bargaining tool to get the captive Elders back to the Nomads. Shadown felt an odd sensation as he thought about his old friend, Quaid. The warrior knew he had to dispatch a party to Gnomeholden to gain the support of King Fallqron. It would be through the Gnomes that he would be able to contact Iclandia, but Shadown knew it was a dangerous game that he was playing. He hoped the old ties between him and King Fallqron still remained. He recalled that their last meeting some harsh words had been spoken and their opinions differed with the northern cities trading system. Gnomeholden had flooded Sellers Peak with merchants that were selling goods at a price that was unreasonable. Iclandia had decided to impose a larger tax before he was exiled. Other matters pressed his mind as he made his way to the holding area to visit the girl and the Prince. He knew that the guards were coming to bring the girl named Arieal to the ice sled launch. From a tunnel she would be released into dangerous Ice Tunnels that catacomb underneath the expansive northlands. She would be lost and eventually die.
Unless.
“Open the door!” Shadown ordered one of the sentries in a stern voice. The guard responded without a question as the warrior past him with the green emerald sparkling brightly.
“I see you have returned,” Arieal managed.
“Yes, I must speak to the both of you right this moment. I just might be able to save your life.”