“What I have to report,” Fisher seethed with feigned hostility, “I will report to Premer Tzargo as ordered, not to a door guard with an over inflated opinion of his own importance.”
The first guard stiffened at the rebuke, but the second guard chuckled.
“Ouch,” quipped the second guard. “Those are fighting words. Why don’t you let him pass before the two of you end up on the injured list?”
The first guard turned and glared at his companion. “I suppose you will merely stand by and watch?” he asked his partner.
“If the man wants shade bad enough to fight you for it,” shrugged the second guard, “I am not getting involved. Besides, there is a fair chance that his story is true. I am not about to offer myself up for a grievance with the Premer. Let him by.”
The first guard turned and glared at Fisher again, but his stance softened.
“We will ask Premer Tzargo about your mission later,” he warned Fisher. “If you lied to us, we will see you hanged for it. Get moving.”
Fisher wasn’t sure from the man’s words if he was being dismissed or admitted to the temple, but he knew where he needed to go. He walked past the guard and opened the door, half expecting a sword to be thrust into his back. He breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. As for the man’s promise to interrogate the Premer, Fisher recognized that as mere bravado. No door guard would dare to admit that he had let someone into the temple that he was unsure of.
Fisher moved away from the door in almost total blindness. The gloomy interior was like total darkness compared to the blazing sun outside. He waited a few minutes to let his eyes adjust to gloom and then moved cautiously towards the interior. For the next couple of hours, the spy roamed around the interior of the palace, his ears constantly straining to pick up snippets of conversation. While there was talk about the coming battle, he learned nothing startling. No battle strategies were openly discussed, and he heard nothing to indicate that the Motangans were aware of any approaching force other than the Khadorans. He began to feel as if the visit to the temple had been a waste of time, but there was one major item on his list that he had not yet accomplished.
Fisher made his way to the top of the stairs. The top level of the temple was the location of the throne room, and a large contingent of soldiers stood between the two staircases. Fisher knew that he would never gain entrance to the throne room to verify that Vand was indeed there, but the top level also led to the roof of the temple, and it was there that Fisher wanted to go.
The Khadoran spy turned away from the throne room and moved along a corridor where the sunshine was streaming in from the far end. He shielded his eyes from the brilliant sun as he stepped out onto the roof. Squinting as he surveyed the roof, he saw no one. The roof of the temple was a vast flat area broken only by the small section of the temple in the center that rose slightly higher. Once out the doorway, Fisher turned to the north and headed for the edge of the roof.
He halted at the edge and stared into the distance at the ancient city of Vandegar. As his eyes became accustomed to the brightness, the spy saw movement in the ancient city. His mouth fell open and his eyes twitched as he watched skeleton-like figures moving about. There were untold thousands of the creatures, and Fisher felt a shiver race up his spine. He found it hard to believe what he was watching, a whole city infested with dead warriors, but warriors that weren’t quite dead, for the dead did not walk around and carry swords. The Khadoran spy instantly knew that it was urgent to get word of this discovery back to the Astor.
“What are you doing out here?” demanded a voice of authority. “This area is strictly forbidden.”
Fisher turned slowly and saw a Motangan officer standing a mere pace away. The officer held his sword ready as he glared at Fisher.
“I got lost,” Fisher shrugged nervously.
“And you will remain lost forever,” the officer snarled as he raised his sword.
“Wait,” pleaded Fisher. “I am not really lost. I heard about the ancient city of Vandegar. I just had to see what we are fighting for. Spare me this one time. Please.”
“Only the god Vand can spare you from my wrath,” snapped the officer as his sword began to swing towards Fisher’s neck, “and he will have to do it in your next life.”
Fisher dropped to the floor as the sword swung over his head. The spy landed on his rump and promptly swiveled his body, using his feet to sweep the officer’s legs out from under him. The officer fell to the floor, and Fisher leaped upon the man’s body, a knife sliding from its arm sheath into his hand. Even as Fisher drove the knife deep into the officer’s heart, he knew that he was caught. Beyond the body of the officer, Fisher saw a pair of feet approaching rapidly. The feet protruded out of a black cloak, and Fisher’s eyes rose to see a Motangan mage approaching. The mage’s hand darted out before him, and the spy knew that a spell was about to be cast. Fisher rolled frantically away from the dead officer in a futile attempt to avoid the magical spell. He heard the air sizzle at the unleashing of the magical spell and waited for the pain to envelope his body.
“Don’t you know that all of the soldiers here are hellsouls?” asked the mage. “You must always decapitate them.”
Fisher looked up in amazement at the Motangan mage. His eyes darted towards the officer and saw his head rolling about the floor. He looked back at the mage in confusion, and the mage smiled as he pulled his hood slightly back to allow Fisher to see his face.
“Xavo?” gasped Fisher. “How did you get here?”
“I would not say my name too loudly,” grinned the mage. “Xavo is wanted just as dead as Aakuta in these parts. This is no time to dally. Throw the body over the edge of the roof and follow me quickly. The demons will be returning soon.”
“Over the edge?” objected Fisher as he got to his feet. “The soldiers down below will be alerted.”
“Hardly,” Xavo shook his head. “Vand throws his incompetents off the roof every day. What we don’t want to happen is for the demons to find a slain body here when they return. Hurry up.”
Fisher asked no further questions. He hurled the body over the edge of the roof and tossed the head after it. He picked up the officer’s sword and hurried after Xavo who was already half way to the doorway leading inside. Fisher ran to catch up and followed Xavo closely. The mage led the spy down the stairs to his hidden room and then sealed the door. Lady Mystic was already in the room and waiting.
“I trust you got to him before he was discovered?” she asked Xavo.
“Not exactly,” Xavo shook his head, “but I think we are alright. There was just another officer discarded from the roof.”
“You knew I was here?” gasped Fisher.
“We have been watching you for hours,” smiled Lady Mystic. “You have a certain mastery of your profession. I have admired the way you handle yourself.”
“We have no time for adoration,” interrupted Xavo. “Those dead warriors that you were so absorbed in watching will be moving out of the city tonight. Once they are in position, you will be unable to leave Vandegar. You need to get out of the area immediately. Carry word of what you have learned.”
“I will leave soon,” promised Fisher, “but I must know more. What are these demons that you speak of?”
“There are six of them,” explained Lady Mystic. “Three of them are searching for Angragar, but they will return soon.”
“The other three are dining with Dobuk, which is the only thing that saved you from a certain death,” added Xavo. “They normally inhabit the roof, and I would not have been able to save you if they had been out there. It is said that they are immune to magic.”
“They are immune to magic,” declared Lady Mystic. “There are five hundred thousand dead warriors that will be deployed tonight. They will form an outer ring around the temple and Premer Tzargo’s troops, which are all hellsouls by the way.”