The Forgotten Tribe Page 5

  Dariak withheld a laugh so as not to interrupt the trance, but he sensed that something was wrong. He looked at Kitalla and realized that she was struggling to maintain the illusion while also holding a conversation. Randler seemed to notice too, for he started humming a sensual tune, punctuated with minor taps on the armrest of his chair. The slight melody helped to focus Kitalla, but she wouldn’t hold on for long.

  “Honey cakes,” Ieran pleaded, “you know I can’t tell you. What if you slip and tell the wrong person? Come here, love, let me have you in my arms. I will comfort you and take all your worries away.” He reached out and moved toward her. Kitalla couldn’t move away from him, and Dariak suspected that if they touched then the trance would be broken. He needed to help somehow, but even though he could sense the energies projected from Kitalla, he couldn’t augment them.

  Dariak took on the role of King Prethos and strode forth, barking out, “Chancellor Ieran, what foolishness is this in my own royal bedchamber?”

  Ieran stumbled and his jaw quivered as he turned to face Dariak. “Sire, no, I—We didn’t—No, sire, you shouldn’t be here, not yet. It’s safe. Get back underground and wait for our soldiers to secure the castle.”

  “You dare tell me to wait?” Dariak said in a deepened voice, grateful that Kitalla was able to insinuate unto Ieran the he was the king. “I will not live in squalor any longer.”

  “Sire, just two more days. Hold out that long. It is almost over, sire, please. Here, have this woma—”

  Kitalla dropped the dance and took the remaining step between them, clobbering the older man and felling him to the cracked marble floor. “Not much time,” she panted heavily. “Better… get him to the king’s bedroom.”

  Dariak took his arms as Kitalla grabbed his feet. “I’m glad that skill doesn’t work on me anymore,” he grinned.

  “I’m more… surprised,” she gasped, “that it worked… at all.”

  They deposited Ieran in the king’s chamber, hoping he would think he really had seen the king there. As they walked back, Dariak commented, “I’ve always said your skill was different than that of us mages. You provide the catalyst for the energy and project it outward whereas we have to draw the energy in from somewhere else first.”

  “Explains why… I’m so winded then.”

  Dariak nodded as they rejoined Randler. “Yes, and I’ve never seen you dance and speak simultaneously before.”

  “Never tried it before. But having him just gape at me was disconcerting.” She took a moment to catch her breath and then turned to Randler. “Thanks for the tune. It helped. Your music usually does.”

  “Dance is a physical expression of music, so I’m glad it ties well to your skill. It is unfortunate I can’t have the same influence on others with the music as you do with the dance.”

  “Maybe if you try pulling the energies while you play?” Dariak suggested, but Randler gave him a glance that he should know better than to offer such an idea. Randler was not a huge proponent of magic and had faced a fair share of difficult times at the hands of mages, including his mother, who once used her spells to repeatedly punish and heal him.

  “I—I can’t really be the only one,” Kitalla said suddenly. “With a skill like this. Just, no one’s seen it, that’s all. I can’t be the only one.” Her eyes glazed over and she sank down.

  Randler shrugged. “Maybe you have ancestors from another land where they channel magic differently?” Such stories were unheard of, but it could explain her special talent if it were possible.

  Dariak shook his head. “I’m pretty sure my father would have found some information on something like that, somehow. I don’t recall anything about magic in other parts of the continent, aside from bigger, crazier monsters in some places. The rest is rural and simple. No magic.”

  “Unless they hid their skills from others,” Randler argued. “Why show a stranger what you can do until after you get to know him? Maybe your father didn’t spend enough time trying?”

  Dariak didn’t know how to react. It was an odd thought anyway, but putting down Delminor in the process was hurtful.

  Kitalla didn’t catch any of it. She was thoroughly drained from the experience and her thoughts tumbled around. She thought she knew where the skill came from, for she had had a revelation in Magehaven. Years before, she had fallen in love with a young nobleman, Joral, and was pregnant with his child. After a skirmish, the infant was killed while it was still within her body, and after its removal, she had discovered that she had the ability to influence others with her dancing. It had happened all by accident, but it was there, nonetheless. She knew that she was tied to the Forgotten Tribe through that child, through the baby’s father, Joral, whose ancestry went all the way back to the original king and queen. The dance skill was a lost talent of the Forgotten Tribe. She knew it in her heart, but she was too exhausted to share it with the others just then. Darkness swept around her and she accepted its call.

  Chapter 7

  Ieran’s Task

  Ieran had no idea that he had been bewitched. He awoke in the king’s chamber with a raging headache and an overturned bottle of wine that Dariak had planted there for effect. He looked around the chamber, embarrassed that he was there, then gathered himself up and went about his duties. He had many things to attend to, including the continued dismantling of Dariak’s forces while maintaining his air of concern for the people. The king had chosen him well all those years ago, and Ieran enjoyed his current role, though it was certainly taking a toll on him. He rubbed his head gently, scolding himself for his indulgence.

  Not that he remembered drinking the wine in the first place. Or coming into the king’s chamber at all. But he must have done so after sending troops off to the blazing bakery in the southeast. Yes, a celebratory drink for a successful subterfuge.

  But some part of him said no. Some part argued that that wasn’t what had happened, but he had no idea. There was the harlot who had come to him in his time of desire and he had wanted to bed her so very badly. Yet she was skittish and wanted to ensure the trouble would be over soon.

  And, he realized with a streak of fear running down his spine, he had told her. He remembered it now. He had told her that the uprising would happen in two days. Indeed, that was the plan. The king had been gathering soldiers in the lower dungeons of the castle and Ieran had kept their location and plans secret and silent. But, now, he had slipped.

  “Kitalla,” he murmured with a snarl. He lifted the spilled wine bottle from the floor and smelled it, trying to discern if it was poisoned somehow. Perhaps some hallucinogenic herb or aphrodisiac, he wasn’t sure. But the wine just smelled like wine, not that he was an expert in such things.

  Yet now he had to assume that Dariak knew not only of an impending retaliation by the king, but the appointed time. There was no choice; they would have to move it up. Immediately. There was no time to waste. If Dariak had proven one thing about himself throughout his life, it was his resourcefulness. He could not allow this farce to continue any longer.

  Ieran made his way quickly to his chamber to check his day-long hourglass. It was a tall cylinder with markings to denote the approximate hours. There was also a central release in the device so he could reset the clock as needed. He went there now and saw that some time remained. He had only been out for a few hours, which was much better than he had expected. Glancing out the window, he saw that evening was upon them. Perhaps a siege in darkness would be the best strategy.

  With a grin, Ieran disrobed and then donned a basic guard’s uniform, which he always did when he wanted to be undetected. He stepped in front of the hourglass and reached behind the device to activate a catch in the stone. With a soft grinding sound, the wall slid forward and opened into a narrow, dark passageway.

  He had discovered the passage as a child when his father was a servant under the previous king. Ieran had always been craftier than his old man, and finding the hidden dungeon had been a boon that helped him earn his p
osition. He had found the secret door in the king’s chamber as well, though he hadn’t had permission to be there when his made his discovery. Instead, he kept the information to himself until he needed it, and the king was ever grateful for the knowledge.

  Ieran smiled as he stepped into the path, having taken it so many times that he could navigate it in the utter darkness that remained when he pulled the door closed. Thirty-eight steps spiraled downward, then a plateau for five steps and another set of twenty-three steps. Eighteen paces ahead, he put his hand up at chest height until he touched a damp wall. It took some feeling around for the specific brick he needed, but then he pushed open the wall and stepped into the lower dungeons.

  The area was perpetually dark, but some illumination always filtered down to this level, either from the sun, moon, or torches in the castle above. The cavern itself was essentially sealed off from the outside, but the creators had lined key walls with a highly reflective metal that brought light in through a crafty series of channels along one edge of the border. High above, the tiny crevices that existed between the castle ground and its supporting walls went undetected.

  Ieran counted a hearty three hundred paces before coming to the end of the corridor where he turned left and placed his hand on a wooden panel. Pressing the wood, he signified his presence. It was quieter than a pre-arranged knocking pattern, for simply moving the wood was signal enough. The design of the area would have enticed a would-be thief to turn to the right instead, down another corridor that led to other rooms. Those rooms were intentionally set up to distract looters, not that any such fiends had discovered these tunnels in over fifty years.

  With the wood panel displaced, Ieran waited a few moments for the sentry to notice. Once the wall swept inward, Ieran nodded and entered the chamber to bring news to the king.

  The first thing Ieran noticed as he entered was that the quarters were much more cramped than on his last visit, as the number of people taking refuge here had doubled. Many of them he recognized as the king’s own guard who had been working above for three weeks to coordinate this counterstrike. All of Dariak’s men who had joined the guards to quell the riots in town were here, too, bound and gagged and unable to do more than whimper and moan. Among them was a balding man who kept his eyes squinted and averted so no one would see the intelligence in them.

  Ieran grinned at the results of his hard work keeping Dariak busy and sending all the warriors off to stop the staged incursions. Smug, his step took on an extra bounce as he pushed his way through the crowded area and found the king at the back of the chamber.

  “Your visit is unexpected, Chancellor,” the king said by way of greeting. “What tidings do you bring?”

  Ieran bowed his head and tried to maintain his feeling of pride despite the admission he was about to make. “It seems our foes suspected my true intentions. They drugged me late this morning and in my stupor I let slip that we had plans two days hence, though I offered no more information than that.”

  The king scowled and his lip curled into a snarl. “Tell me, Ieran. If you were drugged, then how can you be certain of how much you divulged?”

  “I assure you, sire, it is all I offered.” He certainly wasn’t going to explain the nature of his drugged state to the king. Lusting after a wench and telling her any news would anger the king greatly and likely bring about his own death, despite all the value he brought to his liege. He would rather not invent some counter story either, unless pressed, hoping the king would let him remain vague.

  “We will have to act sooner than planned,” King Prethos concluded. “If Dariak knows when to expect us, he may have defenses in place, though I cannot imagine how he would be able to fend us all off.” He smiled despite the circumstances, looking around at the soldiers in the chamber who had come to his side at his call.

  A baby gurgled nearby and the king bent down and shook his son’s impromptu crib. “Easy, child. Soon we will return to the light above. Soon you will have your revenge on your mother’s murderer.”

  After the baby settled back to sleep, the king looked over his shoulder at Ieran. “We will not be able to set the stage as intended. We will have to open the third wall.”

  Ieran frowned. “It will expose this place after all these years, sire. Surely—”

  The king’s eyes flared with anger. “If not for your carelessness, it would not be necessary, Chancellor. Besides, the secret of these tunnels is lost. Look at how many there are here now. It is not just the few who were trusted to know. It is all of my guard and Dariak’s as well, and word will leak regardless. We might as well use the last defenses of this place to earn back my throne.”

  “Yes, sire. It will take an hour or two to make the arrangements.”

  “Press for the hour,” the king replied. “I grow impatient with the waiting. I would see the night sky this eve. And I would see the end of Dariak and his cronies.” His voice lowered to an angry hiss, “Especially Gabrion.”

  Ieran bowed his head and stepped away, speaking to a few soldiers and giving instructions about how to detach the third wall from this portion of the dungeon. He pointed to a few key locations in the stone and bade them to find other patterns in the walls and to remove those bricks all around. Once those supports were removed, he would be able to unlink the outer wall and this partition would fold outward, letting the soldiers spill onto the castle grounds. There were fifty or so such supports that needed tending and Ieran entrusted the task to those closest to the king, giving them a warning before he left. “If you fail to remove even a single one of those sets of bricks, then the wall will not open and the king will not reclaim this day. He will find you to answer for your lack of diligence.” The men saluted, confident in their task.

  With a final look around, Ieran glanced at the fighters. All of the able bodies were on their feet now, limbering up for a fight. Some were stretching and bending. Others were attacking imaginary foes with invisible weapons, pushing their limbs through the motions. Ieran rubbed his hands in anticipation, excitement welling inside himself again. He looked around at the captured fighters one last time, knowing they would be unable to help Dariak when it came to it. His eyes swept over the balding man on his way out and he laughed to himself at the helplessness he saw.

  Indeed, it was going to be a good night. Ieran retraced his steps to his room, peering through a peep hole to ensure his chamber was empty before pushing the wall open. “One hour,” he muttered to himself. It wouldn’t be much time, but it was possible. He needed to get to the remains of the courtyard on the western side and find the locking stones so they could be released. He located two of the king’s guards and waved them over.

  “You,” he said to one of the men, “find the Regent and then come up with some diversion. Argue about wages or complain about the missing soldiers or whatever strikes your fancy. Just keep his eyes on you.”

  “Yes sir. For how long, sir?”

  “As long as you can, but at least twenty minutes.” The man saluted again and went off, after which Ieran turned to the other guard. “Go alert the others. It’s tonight, within the hour. Tell them to be ready but not to draw attention until the time is right.”

  “Yes sir!”

  Still dressed as a guard himself, Ieran stepped off with an official-looking stride and made his way to the western walls as if to take over guard duty. Instead of ascending to the upper wall, however, he ducked into the shadows and made his way to the keystones he needed to release. He found it difficult not to laugh maniacally into the night.

  Chapter 8

  The Ambush

  Dariak and his closest companions sat in the empty dining hall with some scraps of food, while Kitalla slept in a nearby chamber after her recent actions. The news they had gleaned off of Ieran rankled in their heads, and they wondered how it would be possible to fend off the king’s forces with their diminished army and without magic. No one was optimistic.

  Gabrion grumbled. “We’ve lost so many of our friends to th
is plan of theirs. Perhaps it’s best if we leave this place.”

  Verna scowled. “Kitalla warned us you’d want to turn and run at the first sign of trouble. No, I say we get crafty and set up some traps.”

  “In the king’s own castle?” Ruhk scoffed. “Not likely to work. There are hidden passages here, but I don’t know where. They could sneak in from any number of places and we would have no means of stopping them.”

  “What if we make a stand here? Or some other defensible room?” Carrus asked. “We’ll raid the armory to stock ourselves up here and then we pin them in the doorways and knock them down one at a time.”

  “That’s the closest thing we have to a viable plan,” Randler noted. “Perhaps we should pursue it?”

  Dariak shook his head. “It’s a good plan, but if anything goes awry, then we’re trapped and then we’re dead. If only…” He finished a disappointed sigh, touching one of his pockets.

  Randler saw the motion. “The jades are drained. We have to do this on our own.”

  “We still have nine others of our army here,” Verna added. “They’re training outside.”

  “All well and good,” Dariak said, “but I’m of little use in a hand-to-hand skirmish.”

  “I disagree,” Gabrion argued. “You’ve done a great many things with a dagger and some rocks and so on. Dariak, don’t lose hope on us now. We need you with us.”

  “Funny, coming from a guy who won’t kill his foe when he’s backed into a corner,” Verna said. “Is that what’s going to happen here, too? You’re going to massage them into a slumber and lay them down in a bedroll until it’s all over?”

  Randler snorted despite his attempts not to. “Verna, clearly Gabrion is going to do his best. Besides, I thought we were all going to defend without killing. It’s not our purpose here.”