Kethril (15 page)

The companions stood, wondering what in the
world could be happening. Liselle realized it was aiming at Tathan
who jumped up onto his table just before it hit him. He had to jump
again as the cow plowed through the tables, knocking them over with
angry moos.

Liselle wondered if murdering the disciple
of the cow goddess had anything to do with it. Hostile cows could
complicate things in their journey. She thought about it for a
moment while watching Tathan continue to dodge the cow. It was
beyond her how cows could complicate things, but it seemed like a
problem.

As suddenly as the cow had attacked, it
stopped and wandered back off toward whatever field it had come
from. General Bormann appeared a minute later and surveyed the
mess. “What happened here . . . or do I want to know?”

Emmaoen helpfully explained, “A cow attacked
Tathan of the Shadows.”

The general turned and walked away without a
word.

When they woke in the morning, the mess from
the tent was gone. No one invited them to breakfast and they rode
at the back of the regiment as far away from the general as
possible, much to the irritation of the princess who likely would
have declared war on Kethril if she had had the ability.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. It
rained most of the time and Liselle found she preferred riding
without
a military escort.

Tillg, the capital city of Kethril and the
largest port on the Northern Ocean, was bigger than Liselle had
imagined. Farms and smaller villages seemed grouped together a few
miles before reaching the city proper, adding to the size. Once
again, Vevin was including her in his illusion to keep people from
noticing them. It enabled her to stare without being rude.

What interested Liselle were the
plain-clothed people. Children stopped to watch the troops pass and
a number ran alongside. Occasionally, they would see a noble riding
his horse or carriage interspersed with the wagons and carts.
People sat on porches or stood in groups, sometimes talking
gravely, other times with great mirth. Liselle wanted to know what
they were discussing. What sort of things interested them? Were
they happy or sad? What were their lives like?

Emmaoen told her that they would be able to
see the ocean from the wall of the palace or the windows of some of
the higher floors. Liselle could already smell the ocean air. The
wizardess had taken to eating her meals with the companions. Every
time Emmaoen came, they would all check to make sure no spiders
were going to spoil the meal. When they found one, either Vevin or
the wizardess would zap it with little lightning bolts.

Liselle was excited to see the ocean, but a
sense of trepidation filled her. There were no flowers at sea. The
thought of taking a journey without flowers nearby worried her that
they might not be able to carry out their plan.

Tillg was on the eastern side of Ice Dragon
Bay, which Vevin explained was foolish since there was no such
thing as an ice dragon. Two sections separated the city, called
Upper Tillg and Lower Tillg. Lower Tillg was the largest area with
twenty-five docks. Upper Tillg was at the top of a cliff where the
ground rose high above Lower Tillg and the bay.

Most of the nobles, wealthy merchants and
upper classes of citizens lived in the upper city while the working
class and impoverished lived in the lower. The cliff gradually
declined inward to the east, becoming level with the surrounding
land about three miles out. A large wall rising forty feet
surrounded the city in a large semi-circle.

Emmaoen explained that the wall was stupid
and vain because no country could attack from inland. Mountains
along the southern border were too steep for an army to climb, the
Willden was to the east and monsters from the Northern Wastes
weren’t intelligent enough to attack in force. The wall was more an
indication of wealth and power. Liselle was impressed even if it
wasn’t necessary.

All but twenty soldiers split off to the
north to go to barracks outside of Tillg. General Bormann led the
rest through the Upper City to the castle, which overlooked the bay
from the top of the cliff. The hooves of their horses clip-clopped
along cobbled streets that weren’t as pretty as Puujan’s, but
worked much better than the muddy roads they had traveled thus far.
The architecture outside of the walls had been a mixture of stone
and wood, but now they were among nicer houses that were
predominately stone. Emmaoen said that the closer they got to the
bay cliffs, the older the buildings would be. The castle itself was
nine hundred years old.

Liselle was thrilled to see planters outside
of most windows. The flowers within quivered their petals at her.
Emmaoen noticed the flowers moving and stared at them for a moment.
Then she glimpsed to see if anyone else had noticed. Liselle looked
ahead innocently. More flowers waved at Liselle and she responded
by smiling and waving back. Emmaoen turned sharply to her. “Aha!
What sorcery are you doing?”

“I’m not doing any sorcery. The flowers were
telling me hello, so I was telling them hello back,” she
answered.

The wizardess looked suspiciously at
Liselle, back to the plants, then at Liselle again. “You talk to
flowers?”

“Yes, yes I do.” Liselle smiled winningly.
Emmaoen stared at her for a minute, shrugged, and then went back to
riding along lost in thought. Every once in a while she would stare
at the moving flowers and then give Liselle an appraising look.

Soon after passing the wall, the wide avenue
curved upward. Liselle could see distant towers ahead and began to
get excited. She grinned in excitement the rest of the way.

An older, smaller wall surrounded the
castle. Emmaoen said, “It’s the original city wall built centuries
ago. As the city and kingdom grew, so did the castle. People were
moved out of the old city a little bit at a time until it became
nothing but castle grounds. Each king builds a new tower or wing in
the style of the day, so none of the architecture matches.”

“Sounds like a fun place to explore,” Tathan
remarked.

“I’m certain you’re not going to be allowed
anywhere alone, Tathan of the Shadows,” Emmaoen replied with a
tinge of panic in her voice.

Tathan smirked and then pointed at something
crawling on the ground. “Spider.” Emmaoen let out a tiny scream and
zapped it. Anilyia leaned over from her horse and thwapped the
rogue on the arm for teasing the poor mage.

“Dismount!” the general’s voice bellowed
from the front of the line. They were in a large, cobbled courtyard
surrounded by whitewashed stone buildings. Servants carried things
from one place to another, merchants and nobles gathered in groups
to talk about the weather or whatever they liked to talk about and
royal guards wearing polished armor and spotless tabards stood
watch over everything.

A detailed statue of a sword-bearing king
mounted on a rearing horse while fighting off monsters dominated
the center. The monsters were furry, about eight feet tall and had
pelts for clothing and armor. Their weapons looked to be clubs with
bone spikes and they had large mouths with sharp teeth. Emmaoen saw
her staring at it. “That’s the first king of Kethril fighting off
skeethies.”

“Skeethies?” Liselle asked.

“They’re monsters out of the Northern Wastes
and southern mountains. Kethril used to be overrun by them, but
King Skeethy Slayer there,” she gestured with a hand to the statue,
“and his men went through and killed thousands. He built a fortress
here and started the kingdom.”

“So all of the skeethies are gone?” Liselle
dismounted along with everyone else.

“No, there’re a lot more in the Northern
Wastes and in the mountains to the south. They breed like rabbits,”
Emmaoen explained as she handed her horse off to a groom. “There
are fortresses all along the north and outposts in the south with
squads that keep skeethies from flooding into the plains.”

“Are there any fortresses along the
Willden?” Sir Danth asked.

Emmaoen shook her head as the companions
gathered together, waiting to enter the castle. “We can’t get
anyone to build near the Willden. None of the troops are willing to
go anywhere near it. Rethram is the closest village and the people
there are insane. That’s the only explanation anyone has for why
they would get so close.”

“Insane and stupid,” Anilyia muttered.
Tathan put an arm around her shoulder.

Emmaoen saw the gesture. “Aren’t you
supposed to get married and save the world or something, Your
Highness? Tathan of the Shadows is a known seducer of women and I
don’t think your betrothed will approve.”

Anilyia glared at the wizardess. “He’s told
me of his past and I don’t care. My affairs are none of your
concern,
peasant
.” She spat the last word at Emmaoen’s
feet.

It didn’t faze the wizardess at all. “I am
not a peasant, Your Highness. In any case, I think you’re a fool,
regardless of whether or not it’s my concern.”

Anilyia shrieked in rage and Tathan had to
hold her by the waist to prevent her from choking Emmaoen. General
Bormann chose that instant to walk up. “Please stop whatever it is
you’re doing . . . and I don’t want to know what that might be. The
king is waiting for you in the grand court. We are to proceed there
immediately.” Without waiting for anything else to happen, the
general turned and led the way. If Tathan hadn’t had his arm around
Anilyia’s shoulders again, she most likely would have jumped
Emmaoen.

Liselle’s gaze went from side to side as she
stared at people, statues lining the halls and the magnificent
tapestries hanging everywhere. Voices echoed off the stone floors
and high arched ceiling, creating a sound that seemed almost
musical to her ears. A few minutes later, they were in the grand
court. Six enormous pillars along either side of the carpeted
walkway supported the high ceiling. Long stone tables and benches
were three rows deep to either side behind the columns.

People sat at the tables and chatted while
others gathered in small groups along the wide carpet. At the end
was a pair of grand thrones on a raised dais. Priests in long robes
stood to the left side with tall hats and elegant staffs of power.
Behind and to the sides of the largest throne were robed wizards,
polished knights and important looking advisors. She drank in the
sights in order to remember all of it. Liselle noticed Anilyia
gazing longingly at the elegant gowns worn by the ladies of the
court.

Most extraordinary of all was the man
sitting on one of the thrones . . . not sitting so much as
lounging. His legs were hanging over one arm of the chair and his
head rested on a pillow on the other arm. A golden crown with
jewels in the peak was sitting sideways on his head. He had
brownish blonde hair and neatly trimmed goatee. He wore the highest
quality black leggings and red ruffled shirt. A rich blue cloak was
open and precious jewelry adorned his hands, neck and ears. In his
hands were four scepters. A smaller throne to the right was empty
and a single black pillow lay upon the seat.

“Zombie poop,” Tathan said quietly. He
pointed at a woman with raven hair, black cape and long green robes
that matched her exotic eyes. Standing next to her was a
human-sized black squirrel. “That mysterious woman standing next to
Steve the Squirrel is the one that tried to kill me in Puujan.”

The man sitting on the throne stood and held
his arms out in a grand gesture, one of the advisors nearby ducking
the scepters. “Greetings, my amazing guests! It is so wonderful to
see you. I am King Cranwer, ruler of Kethril. Thank you so much for
coming to my humble abode.” His voice was intense and booming as he
walked down three steps at the base of the dais. Upon reaching the
bottom, he laughed heartily. “It’s not exactly humble, is it? It’s
a castle!” He pointed the scepters in his left hand at his chest.
“It is my castle though. I own it.” He waved the scepters around in
every direction. “It’s my
kingdom
! I own the whole thing and
I have the papers to prove it! Ha, ha!”

Liselle began to worry. The appearance of
the mysterious woman and her squirrel was bad enough, but the king
appeared to be crazy and that could make things difficult. Liselle
was beginning to worry that everyone in the world was loopy.

“Have you met my scepters?” the king asked,
waving them at the companions.

“We have not met your glorious scepters,
Your Majesty,” Sir Danth said, banging a fist on his chest in
salute. “It is a great honor to be invited into your glorious
castle that looks over the city as an eagle looks over its eaglets.
The mighty towers of the bastion reach to the sky as mountains rise
above valleys to provide shelter for the abundant life that always
seems to exist in valleys . . .”

He would have continued, but the king
interrupted. “My, but you do have a way with words, Sir Knight. I
would know your name and order.”

The knight bowed. “I am Sir Danth Wazmordin
of the Black Order of the Knights of Morhain.”

The king folded his arms and rested his chin
on one of the scepters. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of the Black
Order of the Knights of Morhain.” He turned to his advisors.
“Historian Alcan, tell me of this order.”

An older man blinked his eyes a few times.
“Black Order of the Knights of Morhain . . . One of seven blessed
orders of knights of the ancient Kingdom of Morhain which
disappeared sixteen hundred years ago in an event called ‘The Great
Disappearing’. The Black Order is the most feared of the seven,
responsible for protecting and recovering treasures of the kingdom.
One knight of the Black Order is worth a hundred soldiers . . .”
Historian Alcan paused for a moment. “. . . There are a few other
details. Not much information exists about the knights other than
that, but the Kingdom of Morhain existed within the Willden Forest.
No one knows what happened to it.” He looked up at Sir Danth. “If
he is a Knight of Morhain, he’s sixteen hundred years old, and I
don’t think that’s likely.”