“It’s not just those creatures,” Tarlak said, waiting for the queen to acknowledge him before continuing. “Winged soldiers join their ranks, numbering in the hundreds. They come from a land beyond our own, through a gate opened in the very heart of Veldaren.”
“Winged soldiers?” Annabelle asked. “Tell me you jest.”
“Wings will bypass all our defenses,” one advisor on her left said.
“Our archers can shoot even the tiniest of birds from the sky,” said another on her right. “We have no need to fear any army, regardless if it travels by land or air.”
Queen Annabelle rose from her throne, and her advisors quieted again.
“Go to your people, King Copernus,” she said. “They will need you. I will discuss with my advisors and generals on how to best prepare our defenses. You have given me much to ponder. For now, I bid you farewell. Commander, please escort them.”
“That could have gone better,” Harruq muttered as they were led out the castle.
“Yeah,” Tarlak said, glancing at Aurelia. “But also far worse.”
M uch to Tarlak’s chagrin, Antonil turned down an offer to stay inside the castle.
“Stay among the people,” the wizard muttered as the Eschaton hunkered beside one of many fires that filled the gap between the two walls. “Since when do I belong among the people?”
“You’d hate life inside that castle,” Lathaar said, munching on a piece of bread that soldiers of Mordan had been passing out for the past hour. “You’d have to watch your tongue the whole while. Complain like you are now, and you’d be in the stocks within the hour.”
“Complaining is illegal here?” Tarlak said, raising an eyebrow.
“I believe they would classify it as disrespecting a gift of her majesty,” the paladin said.
“You know you love us anyway,” Aurelia said, comfortably snuggled inside Harruq’s arms. “You’d take cold ground and a fire with us over fluffy pillows and a bed any day.”
Tarlak shrugged. “Depends. Can we toss a girl in with those pillows? Maybe a pretty elven lass?”
Harruq threw a piece of bread at him. Tarlak ducked, twirled his fingers, and as the bread sailed over his head it suddenly spun around and headed right back at the half-orc. Harruq batted it aside with his hand, sending it straight into king Antonil’s lap.
“Forgiveness please, your majesty,” Tarlak said, bowing low. “I would not dare show disrespect of such wheaty nature.”
Antonil picked up the piece of bread, sniffed it, and then ate it.
“Still tastes fine,” he said. “And please, while I don’t mind such impressive displays of respect here, try to behave yourselves around the Mordan people. I should attempt to be a bit more…”
“Kingly?” Harruq asked.
“That’ll suffice,” Antonil said.
“Where’s Haern?” Harruq asked, glancing around. “He’s usually pretty good with all this royalty stuff.”
“I haven’t seen him since we left the castle,” Tarlak said. “He’s plotting something, I just don’t know what.”
“I’m hurt,” Haern said, suddenly appearing between Tarlak and Lathaar. The assassin shifted his cloaks and sat, a piece of bread in hand. “You should know by now I don’t plot. I scheme.”
“Well, schemer, where have you been?” Tarlak asked.
Haern took a bite and thought as he chewed.
“I’ve been trying to locate Deathmask and his ilk,” he said. “I feel they’re mostly our responsibility, and I’d prefer they behave.”
Tarlak looked at his friend, spying a red stain across the bottom of his cloaks.
“There’s blood on you,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“Is there?” Haern asked. He continued eating. Tarlak rolled his fingers, trying to get him to say more, but he refused. Giving up, Tarlak tossed his hands to the air and then stood.
“That’s it, I’m going to go mingle,” he said. “Too much sitting around. Used to travel and danger. This peaceful life is going to kill me.”
“I should go as well,” Antonil said. “I need to visit the rest of my people camped among the fields. Care to escort me, Mr. Eschaton?”
“Of course,” Tarlak said, slipping his arm through Antonil’s. “Is this respectful enough? You have the prettiest blue eyes.”
When Antonil reached for his sword, Tarlak let him go, a feigned look of disappointment on his face.
“Wrong kind of escort,” Harruq shouted after them as they left for the inner gate.
He couldn’t tell for sure, but Harruq thought Tarlak made a rather rude gesture with his hand.
“S o what’s really going on?” Tarlak asked once the two were far enough from the camp.
“Am I that obvious?” Antonil asked.
“Maybe,” Tarlak said. “What’s bothering you?”
The king glanced about and lowered his voice.
“The priest of Karak,” he said as they walked. “I fear his influence over the queen.”
“He’s just one advisor,” Tarlak said.
“I’ve seen what just one advisor can do,” Antonil said. “She listens to him. Even worse, priests of Karak mingle with my people, giving away food and clothes. I don’t trust them.”
“So what do you want from my mercenaries?” Tarlak asked, lowering his voice as well.
“There’s a small temple to Ashhur not far from here. Seek them out, and uncover what you can about Hayden and his priests. When Karak’s army marches to these walls, I don’t want any spies in our midst throwing open the gates or turning the hearts of our soldiers.”
“I’ll look into it,” Tarlak said. “And for your own good, you never had this discussion, and we will not have any further discussion. Consider the matter handled.”
“You’re a good friend,” the king said.
“And an expensive one, too,” Tarlak said, grinning. “Don’t you forget that.”
10
T arlak waited until nightfall to move out. He thought about bringing Lathaar, but chose Harruq instead. The paladin’s sense of honor could have proved difficult.
“What the Abyss do you want?” Harruq muttered as Tarlak prodded him awake.
“Quiet,” the wizard ordered. “And don’t wake your wife.”
“Too late,” Aurelia said, stirring beside him. “Where are you taking my husband?”
“Nowhere,” Harruq grumbled. “I’m going back to bed.”
“No you’re not,” Tarlak said, kicking him. “And be quiet. I’m on orders from the king, now get your swords and let’s go.”
“I’m going with,” Aurelia said.
“You’re too conspicuous,” Tarlak argued.
“And a giant half-orc isn’t?”
Tarlak bit his lip. “Good point. All right, hurry up.”
Harruq buckled on his armor while Aurelia slipped her dress on over her flimsy nightgown.
“We’re headed for the temple,” Tarlak said when they were ready.
“Which one?” Harruq asked.
“Ashhur. Let’s go.”
They had camped between the two walls. Normally both gates were closed at night, but because of the massive amount of people, they had left the inner gate open. Four guards stood watch, torches in hand.
“Time for a nap,” Tarlak said before whispering a few words of magic. He frowned when nothing happened. “Well that’s a problem,” he said. “They must have wards against sleep spells.”
“How important is it we not be spotted?” Harruq asked.
“Very,” Tarlak said.
“You both are being stupid,” Aurelia said, drawing glares. The elf walked up to the wall, far away from the gate, and placed her hand upon it.
“Grab my hand,” she told her husband. “And you, take his.”
They both hesitated.
“Now!” she said, loud enough to startle them. They did as they were told. She whispered a spell, and as she finished they felt their bodies tingle. Without pause, she suddenly leaped straight at the wall, her body vanishing through as she were a ghost. Harruq and Tarlak followed after, reappearing on the other side.
“Simple enough,” Tarlak said. “But I could do without the insult.”