‘Falsig was a good friend once. We should be able to trust him,’ said Red, trying to reassure them, but clearly doubting his own words.
‘What about the five others standing around him?’ asked Cassiel sharply.
‘I’m sorry. What can I do about it now? I can’t take back what I’ve said.’
‘Don’t worry about it Red,’ said Eben calmly. ‘We’ll work it out. After all they don’t know anything except that we want to get inside the Citadel.’
‘But that’s enough to make them suspicious,’ said Cassiel.
There was a tapping on the cabin door. Eben stood up and reached over to open it. Falsig stood in the doorway with a big smoking pipe in his mouth and a sly grin on his lips.
‘Hello there. Thought I would come by and have a little talk. Can I come in?’ he asked, stepping inside before they had answered his question.
There was scarcely enough room in the cabin to accommodate the massive man. Somehow he managed to sit cross-legged on the floor. He continued to smoke his pipe which quickly filled the room with a thick haze. Eben closed the door and resumed his place which was now beside Falsig.
‘Red, you said you and your friends want to get inside the Citadel of Zyran?’
‘Maybe,’ said Red, not wanting to give away anything more.
‘Maybe means yes with you,’ said Falsig with a hoarse chuckle. ‘Now let me guess. You’re planning to get inside the Citadel and rob the treasury, right? It sounds like the most ridiculous thing in the world to do, and under normal conditions I’d think you wouldn’t stand a chance, but I gave it some thought, and I know Red wouldn’t try such a thing unless he thought the odds were good. That made me think the three of you,’ he indicated to everyone except Red, ‘must all be professional thieves. Am I right?’
They looked at each other, not sure what to say for a few moments.
‘Perhaps we are and perhaps we’re not,’ said Cassiel with an expressionless face. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘Well, well, well,’ said Falsig, grinning widely. ‘I’ve been looking for an opportunity to move out of the kitchen and into my own palace. If we can strike a deal then I think I can get you into the Citadel.’
‘So you want to make some money?’ asked Cassiel coolly.
‘I provide the service and you pay me my money, plain and simple,’ replied Falsig, his grin extending from ear to ear. Cassiel looked to be deep in thought for a few moments. He was formulating a new plan in the space of ten seconds.
‘If you get us inside then we’ll give you a third of everything we take,’ said Cassiel with a firm tone that completely convinced Falsig. Red’s mouth fell open at Cassiel’s words.
‘We have a deal,’ agreed Falsig.
‘Good, but no more than a third,’ repeated Cassiel.
‘I accept your offer,’ said Falsig.
**
They sat in the cabin after Falsig had left. All their eyes were cast downward. They knew that Falsig was a real risk to their plan succeeding.
‘He’ll be furious when he discovers that we aren’t thieves and there is nothing in it for him,’ whispered Eben.
‘He’ll have to be happy with a third of nothing,’ whispered Cassiel with a slightly humorous smile, which was rare for him.
‘It’s not honest,’ whispered Stella.
‘It’s also not dishonest. None of us said that we were thieves; he made that assumption himself. We didn’t say we were stealing anything; he assumed that too. I said that he can have a third of what we take. He will have to be happy with a third of nothing. A deal is a deal. We need a way into the Citadel of Zyran, and we can’t tell anyone our plan. The truth is that if our plan succeeds Falsig will be rewarded in the end; he just might have to wait until King Ignis takes back his throne.’
‘You’re cunning like a Zyranian,’ said Red. ‘I think we should tell him what we’re really up to and see if he wants to help us.’
‘Firstly, I was born on the Island of Zyran; that makes me a Zyranian by birth. Naturally, I am well versed in Zyranian lore and culture. And secondly, we have to make the best of our situation and that means never letting Falsig know our real plan,’ said Cassiel firmly.
Red stared at Cassiel frostily for a few moments. ‘You’re not the leader of our group, Cassiel.’ Cassiel took a deep breath and looked away.
‘We don’t have a leader,’ said Eben. ‘We are in this together and must try to get along. We have to rely on each other to succeed. This arguing is not helping us.’
A few moments went by and no one said a word.
‘Falsig won’t be happy,’ said Red. ‘I already have enough people who want me dead. King Ignis better give him the reward after we free him.’
‘Our plan is risky to say the least. I’m willing to take any opportunity that will help us succeed,’ said Cassiel.
**
Eben and Red stood on the deck at the front of the ship looking out at the sea as the sunset cast flickering orange light across the gentle waves. Eben felt he had never seen such beauty as the light reflecting on the water.
Falsig appeared and walked over from the back of the ship. ‘What a lovely evening,’ he said, a big sly grin covering his face.
The sun was slowly sinking beneath the waves ahead. It was truly a beautiful sight. Eben felt a sense of wonder looking out over the sea at the shining light. Watching the water brought a sense of peace to his heart.
‘I’m wondering, Red. What does a thief need a bag of fireworks for?’ asked Falsig.
‘Have you been looking in my bag?’ asked Red tensely.
‘Just checking on my investment,’ replied Falsig, his grin instantly fading into a stony expression. ‘Red, I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything.’
Red looked away toward the sunset and waited for a few moments before replying. ‘The full details of our plan will remain a secret, Falsig’.
Falsig roughly grabbed Red’s arm. ‘Listen to me. If your cheating me I’ll make sure you pay,’ he said fiercely.
Eben quickly turned and immediately raised himself to his full height and clenched his fists in readiness to defend his friend. Falsig sneered up at Eben. A moment later Red smiled. He was not afraid of Falsig at all.
‘Relax, you’ll get your reward, Falsig,’ said Red as he removed his arm from Falsig’s grip.
‘Make sure of it,’ said Falsig as he turned and walked away.
‘I don’t like this. I hope I haven’t foiled our plan,’ said Red, his eyes narrowing as he watched Falsig head toward the back of the ship.
‘Maybe we should go back to our original plan of the wine barrels,’ suggested Eben.
‘No, it’s too late. He’ll probably go straight to the Zyranians if we change anything now. He can’t comprehend that we would be prepared to risk our lives for anything other than treasure, and he’s determined to get his share.’ Red glanced back out toward the sun as it descended beneath the waves. The cool evening was growing dark.
CHAPTER SIX
It was late in the afternoon on the second day after leaving Ancora. The ship crossed a small bay and was approaching the docks. Eben looked out at the sight of the Citadel of Zyran that towered ominously above the docks. At least a hundred stone towers rose high into the sky above and a weblike network of dozens of stone bridges linked the towers together. A massive grey stone wall, at least a hundred and fifty feet high, completely surrounded the Citadel. Hundreds of ravens circled in the gloomy haze above the towers, and dark murky clouds hung low in the sky.
Cassiel, Red, and Stella stood with Eben toward the front of the deck; they stared out at the Citadel as the ship neared the docks.
‘It looks intimidating,’ said Stella.
‘The wizards of Zyran are by far the most cunning in all of Veredor. We must be careful,’ said Cassiel, looking up at the Citadel uneasily.
The ship slowly approached and entered under the dark cloud which hovered not far above the tops of the towers. The
gloominess was oppressive. The area of the docks was about three hundred feet down from the edge of the wall of the Citadel. A large village made up of many huts and small houses surrounded the dock area. The sailors threw ropes and tied the ship to the dock. Captain Orstag began yelling at his sailors.
Falsig approached as the ship came up beside the docks. The sailors rushed about and secured lines and placed a gangplank. Eben and the others were preparing to disembark. ‘You would be wise to get a room in the inn over there,’ said Falsig, pointing toward a large inn at the edge of the village. ‘I’ll meet you at the bar around noon tomorrow, and we’ll discuss our dealings in more detail.’ He shuffled down the gangplank and was followed by his five shadowy companions.
‘I don’t trust him,’ said Stella, grimacing as she watched Falsig walk away. Eben nodded in agreement.
Cassiel walked down the plank and across the docks. Eben, Stella, and Red followed him across the way and up the slight slope toward the inn. The sign above the door read: ‘The Lost Mermaid,’ and had a faded picture of a sad mermaid sitting on a beach. It was a large stone building with an upper floor and a gabled roof. Cassiel pushed the door open and stepped in. Eben, Stella, and Red followed Cassiel’s lead.
The common room was crowded and very warm with large open fire burning at the far end. Groups of men filled most of the tables and many others stood at the bar. A long bar stretched along the wall on the right side of the room.
Cassiel stopped and scanned the room. He then leaned toward Eben. ‘Some of these people could be dangerous, so be cautious and discreet. I’m going to see if we can reserve some rooms for tonight.’ He then turned and walked toward the bar. No one in the room seemed to notice the small group of newcomers.
‘Let’s take the table in the corner,’ said Red. They walked over and sat down. ‘At least this place is warm. I remember staying here once a few years ago when I was a sailor.’ He looked toward the big open fire across the room; the flames were burning brightly. ‘I’m going to get us some drinks.’ Red jumped up out of his seat and approached the bar.
Cassiel returned at the same time as Red. ‘We have rooms on the upper floor,’ he said as he took the spare seat at the table. A barmaid walked over and placed the three ales down on the table in front of the three of them.
Cassiel’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the three ales. He looked up at Red and raised an eyebrow. ‘You don’t like me much do you, Red?’
‘Sorry Cassiel, you were talking with the innkeeper. I didn’t know how long you would be gone,’ said Red defensively. Cassiel stared at Red for a few silent seconds. He then stood up and walked over to the bar to buy himself a drink.
‘Zyranians,’ muttered Red when Cassiel was out of earshot.
Stella eyed Red with a harsh frown. ‘Cassiel is our friend, Red. At least try to get along with him.’
Red looked down at the table and nervously scratched his forehead. ‘I’ll respect him when he shows me a little respect,’ he muttered.
Eben was aware that tension had been growing between Cassiel and Red ever since the two of them met back in Ancora. Red was rarely serious and always tried to turn everything into a joke. Cassiel was almost always serious and stern in demeanour and rarely had time for joking around.
Cassiel returned to the table with a mug of ale. He sat down and took a sip. ‘I visited this inn regularly when I was studying at the academy,’ said Cassiel, glancing around the room nostalgically.
‘How far did you get into your training?’ asked Eben.
‘Seven years,’ replied Cassiel. He then took another sip of his ale. ‘I was cast out of the academy.’
‘Why were you cast out?’ asked Stella.
‘That’s something I don’t like to talk about; it was a rather unpleasant experience. I will say that I was glad to see the end of my time there. When an apprentice is cast out they can never return to the Citadel and they are forbidden to practice magic,’ he said soberly.
Before long a barmaid appeared with steaming plates of mutton and vegetables. They hungrily devoured their meals before retiring to their beds.
**
The next day was less gloomy. Eben looked out of his window; the dark clouds had reduced above the Citadel. Sunlight was pushing its way down through small gaps in the sky. The Citadel of Zyran was a daunting sight; it dominated the skyline above the small village. Eben could see a large group of guards marching across the top of the wall in the distance.
There was a knock at his door. Cassiel stepped into Eben’s room.
‘Good morning, Eben. I think we should go down to the docks and buy a small boat. We’re going to need one to leave after we finish our mission here.’
‘How do you feel about the plan now that we are here?’ asked Eben as he stood at the window and continued surveying the immense dark walls of the Citadel.
‘I hope we can succeed,’ replied Cassiel. ‘Falsig has made our task more challenging; hopefully he won’t be a problem until after King Ignis is safely away from here. Stella’s task is very dangerous. I think it is doubtful that Trebax will leave the dungeon key out of sight. If he sees her he will not hesitate to kill her.’
‘Maybe we should find another way,’ suggested Eben, feeling concerned for Stella.
‘There is no other way into the dungeon. Only the key will open the prison door and the doors to the cells within. We are the only people who know King Ignis is imprisoned in the Dungeons of Zyran. If we fail then we fail.’
Eben stood up and put on his leather cloak. Cassiel led the way down the stairs and out of the inn. They walked across to the bustling area of the docks. Sailors were offloading crates and barrels from a large ship that had only just come into port. Across the docks, on the southern side, was a smaller pier set apart from the main docks. A few smaller fishing boats were moored to the pier. Eben and Cassiel approached the smaller pier.
An old man was fixing a net at the edge of the dock. He was a bearded short man with a very big nose, weathered skin, and a dirty old sailor’s hat with a big eagle’s feather attached.
‘Hello there,’ said Cassiel as they approached.
The man glanced up at Cassiel as he continued to fix his net. ‘Hello to you too.’
‘Can you tell me where I could buy a boat?’
The old man stopped fixing his net and looked up. ‘A boat? You don’t look like a sailor or a fisherman.’
‘I’m neither,’ said Cassiel coolly.
‘Perhaps you’re wishing to sail the wild seas and see some far off lands. I’ve been around sea folk for a few years now, and I know a sailor when I see one. Let me give you some free advice: if you sail out to sea without experience you’ll be sailing to your grave,’ said the old man with a slight chuckle.
‘I appreciate your interest, but if you can’t assist me I will ask someone else,’ said Cassiel impatiently. The old man laughed. ‘What’s so funny?’ asked Cassiel.
‘You don’t remember me do you, Cassiel?’
Cassiel’s eyes widened as he suddenly recognised the old man. ‘Baftel!’ he cried, stunned by the sudden revelation. Eben looked from Cassiel to the old fisherman. Baftel threw his net aside and stood up. ‘What brings you to Zyran?’
‘I was going to ask the same question of you,’ said Baftel.
‘What are you doing here? I heard you were banished from the Zyranian Order,’ stammered Cassiel.
Baftel sighed and looked around nervously. ‘Yes, I was banished from the Citadel and cast out of the Zyranian Order. The Zyranian High Council voted seven for my death and eight for my banishment.’ He sadly glanced back across the docks to the walls of the Citadel of Zyran. ‘I have watched as the shadows have grown in Zyran. The dark cloud constantly hovers over the island, but this morning, for the first time in years, the sun seemed to find a way through.’ The old man looked to Eben for a moment. ‘I believe there may be reason to hope again.’
Cassiel, still pale with shock, slowly regained hi
s regular composure.
‘I heard you betrayed the Zyranian Order and were forbidden to practice magic,’ said Cassiel.
Baftel flinched at hearing Cassiel’s words and then nodded his head sadly. ‘Yes, I heard that was their story. The real truth was hidden beneath a shroud of lies. Now I don’t suppose it matters. I can never again enter the Citadel of Zyran. I have enjoyed fixing nets and fishing for the last five years. The life of a wizard was always full of adventure, but fishing is much more fun.’
‘Can you help us find a boat to sail to Ortaria?’ asked Cassiel.
‘As I said, sailing these seas would be dangerous for someone without any experience,’ replied Baftel, shaking his head.
Cassiel looked out to sea and then back to Baftel. ‘Can you take us back to Ortaria, Baftel?’
‘I only have a twenty foot fishing boat. You would be better off going on one of the larger trading ships.’
‘I can’t wait for one of those ships. When I have to leave Zyran I will need to leave at once. I can pay you, Baftel,’ said Cassiel.
Baftel’s eyes narrowed. He glanced away, and a deep frown crossed his face. He picked up his net and walked down the pier a little before he answered.
‘Cassiel, I know you’re an outcast like me. I wonder why you would want to come back to Zyran in these dark times. There’s only a coastal village here, and we both know you can’t go into the Citadel. Am I correct in supposing that you are involved in something untoward?’ Cassiel ignored the suggestion as Baftel threw his net into an open deck sailboat and then walked back to the two of them. ‘I remember when you were at the academy. You never did like taking direction, and you always had a very strong will. I only hope whatever you have planned doesn’t kill you and your friend. Your enemies may know more than you realise.’
‘What do you see?’ asked Cassiel nervously. He knew Baftel was renowned for his ability to see what was hidden.
‘A candle left out in the rain. Sharks circling a man stranded at sea. You have brought hope into a place of shadows. You are like a man wading in the rough waves with an oil lantern in his hand,’ said Baftel, seeming troubled by his own thoughts.
‘Do you think my plan has been discovered?’ Baftel looked to Eben for a moment and then back to Cassiel; the strain was visible on his face.