Shanakan (The Fourth Age of Shanakan Book 1) (6 page)

“Just follow the order. Search any old buildings, deserted buildings, and bring back any items that seem unusual.”

The young man shook his head. “What do you think they want?” he asked.

“Something from before,” the third man said.

“You just keep your mouth shut,” the older man warned him. “You start talking like that and they’ll start listening.”

The third man glanced up at the windows on the south side and Serhan felt a small thrill of confirmation. His reasoning was right; the Faer Karan were indeed on the south side. More than that, though, he was intrigued by what he had overheard. It was an unexpected bonus. Ocean’s Gate was sending groups of men into White Rock’s domains, searching old buildings for something, something from before. Before what? Before the Faer Karan? That would mean it was more than four hundred years old, whatever it was.

He knew very little about the time before. There were stories, legends, perhaps, but he did not have much faith in their veracity. Men had been lords, kings, even mages. He believed that much to be true. Even he could work the small magics that had been taught to him, so why not greater ones? All had been swept aside by the Faer Karan. Now there was no history, no past at all. All that remained was the present.

He had been gone from his post in the hallway for nearly half an hour. It was time to check back, make sure that all was well. He retraced his route back through the barracks room, moving quickly. The spell was beginning to drain his energy, and he would have to rest soon. He climbed the stairs and arrived at his post, checked that the guards around the black door were untroubled and alert. He was peering into the room when he heard steps behind him in the hallway, and shrank back against the stone, out of the way.

Many pairs of feet were approaching. He pressed himself flatter against the wall, and was alarmed to see not just ten guards in Ocean’s Gate uniforms, but a taller figure at the head of them – much taller, and not walking quite like a man. Its eyes were plain white, set in a white face, and he knew that it was one of them. It paused close to him, just out of sight of the White Rock men in the chamber who guarded the black door. He wondered for a moment if it had sensed him. He did not know if the spell would shield him from the Faer Karan, and certainly had not wished to put it to the test, but the shape shifter raised its arms, began to speak.

Then it was gone, and he was standing alone in the passageway. The strange guards were also gone, as though they had been spirited away in an instant. He looked inside the chamber, and Gerique’s guards were still there, still looking alert and unharmed. The black door, too, seemed unchanged. All was well.

What had happened?

He replayed the arrival of the strange Faer Karani in his head. One moment it had been there, and the next gone, and…

The sun had moved.

He replayed the memory again and there was no doubt. The place where the sun shone through the window and cast a shadow on the wall had moved. The shadow had stepped three inches in a moment. It meant that he had been unaware of the passage of time for, what? Five minutes? Ten?

At that moment he knew that he had failed, that the plot, whatever it was, had been executed. The trap had been laid, and he had no idea what it was.

It had to be something to do with the black door. He went into the chamber and examined it. It looked no different, even when he stood right next to it. The quickest way to find out was to step through the door, but where would it lead? It could be on the face of a cliff, inside a fire, a mile below the sea. He was certain it would not take him back to White Rock any more. Stepping through it could be certain death. He looked at the mirror-like black surface and shivered. Although it shone like a mirror, there was no reflection.

But the Faer Karani had been with ten guards. It would not simply march around the castle with a noisy column in tow for no reason. The guards, he reasoned, had gone through the door to whatever was on the other side, so it would not be fatal. He was fairly sure of this, but there were so many assumptions and so few facts.

He stepped up to the black door and steeled himself. Then he stepped through.

Just for a moment he thought that he was dead. There was nothing beneath his feet and very little light, but his fall was short, and he landed awkwardly on hard ground. There was a lot of pain in his arm and leg.

“What was that?”

Serhan froze, holding himself rigid despite the pain, and tried to breathe quietly. The voice had been very close.

“What was what?” a second voice.

“Something came through the door. I heard it.”

Light flared and he heard steps very close to his head. He turned his head very slowly and saw two pairs of feet no more than a yard away. The feet were clad in leather boots with steel plates sewn onto them; one on top of the foot, one protecting the shin and the other the back of the calf. They were guardsmen’s boots. He was wearing something similar. He blessed his invisibility.

“I don’t see anything,” said the second voice. “Probably just a rock fall. Borbonil said the caves were not very stable.”

“It didn’t sound like a rock fall.”

“Well, can you see anything? Nothing could have got past us.”

“No, I don’t see anything.”

“Then let us dim the lamp again and wait for the others to arrive. This place will be busy soon enough.”

The footsteps receded and the light faded, and Serhan was alone again. He turned carefully onto the side of his body that did not hurt. He managed to stand on his good leg and tested his other ankle. It hurt, but it would bear weight. His arm seemed to be broken for the second time in a few weeks, and caused him great pain every time he moved it. This was not a good habit to get into. He tucked the wrist into his shirt front as a makeshift sling.

Looking around he could see that the portal was on a shelf five feet above the ground. There was a ledge about a foot wide before the fall. The light was dim, but quite adequate for an inspection. It was clearly set that way to cause a fall for anyone coming through who was unprepared. Two guards stood in the shadows no more than ten feet away. He limped further back into the cave, the effort of being quiet was even greater with a sore leg, but he found the rest of the guards behind a group of rocks thirty feet from the door. All eight of them were there. Three were resting, and the rest were playing a game of cards by lamplight on top of a flat rock.

So there was to be an ambush. It seemed clear enough what the plan was. Borbonil was building up a force here in this cave, far from White Rock, and intended harm to Gerique’s honour guard. The men were being moved here in small groups. Perhaps a large group of men would be detected by the White Rock guards. It would certainly be difficult to move so many through the fortress to the gate without making a noise.

He had discovered enough. Serhan limped his way back across the cave to the door and managed to climb up to the ledge. With one hand and a weak ankle it wasn’t easy.

He stepped through.

Back at Ocean’s Gate he quickly left the chamber that housed the black door and returned to his position in the corridor. He was exhausted. The spell of invisibility that he had used drained his energy considerably, the broken arm and the sprained ankle had made it worse, and he was close to dropping.

He had nothing to make a sling, so left his hand inside his shirt and spoke the words that ended the spell. Visible again he used his good hand to brush off as much of the dirt as he could manage and made his way down the corridor in the direction that Gerique and Grand had taken. Just around the corner he came across one of Grand’s men. The guard looked startled when he saw him.

“What happened to you?” he said.

“Much. Please take a message to Captain Grand. Tell him I have solved the puzzle, and that I need to speak with Gerique in private. Quickly. I will take your place here.”

The man nodded and set off down the corridor at a trot.

Standing still, Serhan felt fatigue pressing down on him and in spite of the pain in his arm was close to unconsciousness. He was still upright but swaying when the guard returned.

“Follow me,” he said.

Serhan did his best to keep up, but the guard still had to wait for him a couple of times. After a few turns and a couple of flights of stairs they came to a room and the guard knocked before entering. Inside were about twenty of Grand’s guards with Grand and Gerique himself. The men all looked anxious, but Gerique was only impatient.

“Well?”

Serhan quickly explained the trick with the black doors and the intention of the plan. The Faer Karani sat in silence for a while and considered the situation. He stood.

“Come,” he said to Serhan. “You will all wait here,” he said to Grand, and stepped out into the corridor.

As soon as the door was closed Gerique shape-shifted. Serhan had never seen this before. The huge frame melted into something less than solid and reassembled itself into a figure of human form in a guard’s uniform. The eyes were a give away, though, still yellow.

“Now we will see,” he said.

They went back to the chamber with the black doors and Gerique spoke a spell as he approached, and by the time they entered all the men in the chamber were frozen.

A useful spell, Serhan thought. He filed it away.

Gerique examined the black door carefully, touching it front and back with his hand.

“It is so,” he said eventually. He spoke another spell, and then turned back to Serhan. “Now go through. You will find that you are back at White Rock. Find Captain Bantassin and tell her that I wish a substantial force to be arrayed before the gate. Nobody who passes through before Captain Grand is to be permitted to return.”

“My lord.”

He stepped through and as it had been promised he was back at White Rock. A couple of guards who had been stationed at the door recognised him and saluted.

“Fetch Captain Bantassin,” he said. One of the men ran off and the other put a hand out to support him.

“You look in a bad way, sir.”

“I’ll be all right.” He was sure of it. He knew that the Faer Karan could fix him again.

Bantassin and a group of five guards appeared from a doorway and ran to where he was standing. He explained the situation.

“Fifty archers and fifty swordsmen,” she said to her lieutenant “As quick as you can.”

It turned into a scene of pure action. Dozens of people ran to and fro across the courtyard. Serhan sat down on a convenient barrel and closed his eyes for a moment. A hand touched his shoulder.

“You need to rest.” It was Bantassin.

He nodded and she instructed two of her archers to take him to his chamber, which they did with considerable gentleness, which he appreciated. His whole side now felt like a single ache, and it was stopping him from thinking straight. Best to sleep for a while. The job was done, after all.

He slept.

Some time later he was woken again and lifted out of the bed by three guardsmen. They carried him down to the courtyard. By the time they got there he was awake and alert again in spite of the pain. He insisted on walking on his own feet.

The courtyard looked like the aftermath of a battle, which he supposed it was. Quite a few bodies were scattered close to the gate. Arrows protruded from some, others were gashed terribly. The floor was red and black with blood. A group of shocked and disarmed guards in a uniform that he recognised from Ocean’s Gate were huddled together surrounded by Grand’s men. The sight of so much death made him nauseous. He’d never seen violent death before this.

Gerique was there, standing vastly amidst the ruins of so many people, looking pleased, Serhan thought, if it was possible for a Faer Karani to look pleased.

“You have done well,” it said to Serhan, and placed a hand on him, speaking a spell that took away all the pain. Serhan flexed his arm, and it functioned perfectly again. He knelt, now that he felt capable.

“My lord,” he said. “I am happy to have been of some small service.”

“Stand.”

He stood, and Gerique gave him a sword. It was a nice piece of work with a good blade and considerable fine decoration on the pommel.

“Take this sword and learn how to use it. As a reward for this day’s service I am raising you to a rank equivalent to captain. You will be appropriately quartered.”

It turned and walked away, vanishing into the stairway that led up to its great room.

“Never seen that before,” Grand said from somewhere behind him. There was a hint of admiration in his tone.

“I’m glad your lot made it back ok.”

“Yes. You might want to know that he asked a lot of questions before he sent for you just now. None of us could tell him anything, but I think he suspects that you did something not quite acceptable.”

“Such as?”

“I have no idea and I don’t want to know. Just be careful.”

“Always.” But he wasn’t, he realised. He had a reckless, impulsive streak that he struggled to control. Using magic wasn’t explicitly forbidden for humans, but anyone who had done so was dead. Was it possible that Gerique could tell, or had it guessed? As he walked back to his room he was slapped on the back by a few of the men whose lives he had saved, and he felt better about it.

Now that he had proven his value he would be asked to do other tasks, but the captain’s rank gained him little. He needed another opportunity.