Gauntlet of Iniquity (The Azuleah Trilogy Book 2) Page 9

  “What are you doing in there, Lucius?” Alistair asked, somewhat befuddled at his predicament. “Come out and let’s get moving.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m stuck and there are dwarves tugging at my bootstraps!” Lucius said indignantly.

  “Oh. Well. That is an easy matter to resolve. Step aside, Siegfried,” Alistair said, shooing the elf away from the opening. He stuck the top end of his staff into the hole and recited a spell in a foreign tongue. Another flash lit up the dark interior of the cave. Lucius felt the grip on his leg loosen. He heard a peeping sound as something scurried into view. Little chicks hopped around the crevice. Lucius smiled in spite of himself as he realized the dwarves had been transformed by the druid’s spell.

  “All right now, Siegfried, pull him out of there,” Alistair commanded.

  After a few strong tugs with the bow, Lucius managed to slither through the tight opening and come out on the other side. His sides ached from the length of time he’d spent in the cramped space, but he quickly forgot the pain once he saw the room they stood in.

  The interior of the room was a perfect sphere spanning thirty feet in diameter. The rock walls were adorned with gemstones of every kind, and even some Lucius could not identify. In the middle of the spherical chamber stood a large arch which was held up by small stone pillars with various dwarven runes etched onto them. Along the arch itself was an inscription in the dwarven language that he couldn’t decipher.

  Alistair watched his amazement with great curiosity and, as druids were prone to do, he answered the lingering question in his mind. “It reads, ‘The Path to Aldron and Und,’“ he said.

  “One gate for two destinations?” Siegfried asked, running a hand along the carvings on the arch. “How do you know where it will lead you?”

  “An excellent question, Master Siegfried. The trick is to say the right words before entering the gate. There are commands for Aldron and Und. Anything else that is recited will take you elsewhere,” he said.

  “Elsewhere?” Lucius asked, furrowing his brow.

  “The middle of the Quinland Ocean, for example,” the druid replied. “It was a safety measure for any unwanted travelers who wished to use the warp gates. As you know, the dwarves are not keen on unwelcome visitors.”

  “Yeah, I’ve learned that,” Lucius said, rolling his eyes.

  “Yes, well, Balfour and I will be having a long discussion after this ordeal. He still needs to join this war whether he likes it or not. And now that my true identity is revealed, I will do my part to enlist the help of the dwarves,” Alistair said.

  “Wait, you’re not coming with us?” Lucius asked incredulously.

  “I’m afraid not, Lucius. I must mend the situation here with Balfour. Besides, I would only slow down the progress you and Siegfried are making. Once you reach the city, go straight to Gilead Palace and try to gain an audience with the king. Alfryd is a very reasonable monarch, and he allows commoners to enter his halls for valid issues. I’m confident that he will listen to you both.”

  Lucius nodded. “I only hope we can find Violet and Naomi. I’m not sure if they survived after that dragon attack.”

  Alfryd placed a hand on his shoulder. “Have hope for your friends, Lucius. They may have the same fears concerning you. Yet here you are, as well as can be expected.”

  “I suppose,” Lucius said, forcing a smile.

  Alistair turned to Siegfreid. “You have the mithas powder?”

  The elf nodded, tapping his pack to show the vial was stowed away. Alistair gave a quick nod, then gestured toward the Elder Gate. “It’s time to be off now, friends.”

  Lucius sighed, then stepped up to the gate. Siegfried walked up beside him and they exchanged skeptical glances. A worrisome thought entered Lucius’ mind. What if the warp gates were closed for a different reason? Balfour said publicly that he didn’t want anyone to find the gateways so that Djoulmir would be free from invasion. But maybe the real reason was that the Elder Gates no longer functioned. Or perhaps they did work, but were faulty somehow. For all they knew, once they stepped through the gate it might transport them into the ocean like Alistair said.

  He looked over at Alistair to voice his concerns, but the druid waved them aside by saying, “Do not fret; I have traveled through this gate to Aldron before. There is ancient magic at work here that will not falter. It only requires the right word to take you far off. Do you remember the word, Lucius?”

  “Yes, but perhaps it’s better if you say it so I don’t mess it up,” Lucius said, frowning.

  “That won’t do. The traveler must speak the word. If I say it nothing will happen,” Alistair replied. “Now please, go on and speak it.”

  Lucius swallowed hard and purged his mind of all thought except the single word he needed to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alistair cut him off.

  “Wait a moment, I forgot to mention something,” the druid remarked.

  Siegfried glared at him. “What now?”

  “Lucius, I just want to remind you to keep reading the Genesian Chronicles. You will find answers to many lingering questions. Oh, and when you have a moment to yourself…find Seacliff Temple along the cliffs overlooking the ocean in Aldron,” Alistair said.

  “Seacliff Temple?” Lucius asked, confused by the significance of such a place.

  Alistair nodded. “Seacliff Temple. Go there when you have time. I will say no more.”

  “Are you ready?” Siegfried asked, a hint of impatience apparent in his voice.

  Lucius took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, then said, “Dergstant!”

  Immediately the Elder Gate came to life. The runes on its supporting columns and the inscription on the arch illuminated the room with an orange glow. Inside the arch, a portal opened to them like a seam cutting through the air itself. A wave of colors spiraled just inches in front of them, then reached out like giant arms to embrace them. Everything around them began to dissolve into a myriad of colors, and in the distance Lucius heard Alistair yell, “Fare thee well, my friends!”

  In an instant, the world materialized into a solid blue color and he felt his body falling toward it. Wetness enveloped him as he splashed into a familiar liquid.

  Water. He was in water!

  Panic set in as Lucius kicked his legs and flailed his arms toward the surface. But he couldn’t tell which way was up or down.

  His fears had come true. The Elder Gate had transported them into the middle of the ocean, and now they would drown. What fools they had been! Balfour would never have allowed them to escape so easily. He booby trapped the gates to prevent anyone from using them.

  As Lucius fell headlong into the watery abyss, he felt a strong tug at his back, lifting him up.

  His head bobbed out into the surface and he coughed incessantly. He gulped the salty air in large breaths like a glutton devouring a steak. Beside him Siegfried patted his back to help him cough out the remaining water in his lungs.

  It was bright outside and he had a hard time focusing. Seconds passed and his eyes adjusted to the sunlight as he looked around, dreading to see ocean in all directions. But he was surprised to see this was not the case. They were a few yards from the shore, where docks stretched along the coast and boats, galleys, and caravels were moored. A couple of fishermen on a nearby caravel watched them with grim curiosity as they hoisted their nets.

  “Where are we?” Lucius asked, still out of breath.

  “The Sea of Lagrimas. By the looks of it we’re just off the coast of Aldron,” Siegfried said, scanning the shoreline. “It is much different than the last time I visited.”

  “When was that? Three hundred years ago?” Lucius said with a smirk.

  Siegfried raised an eyebrow. “No. Thirty years ago. The docks didn’t hold so many ships at their moorings then. They’ve expanded this section of the city. More storehouses and wharves than I remember.”

  As they swam toward the shore, Lucius was in awe of the number of ships and bo
ats filling the harbor. Many were larger than any vessels he’d ever seen in paintings or drawings in Helmer’s books. Mere pictures could not do these man-made ships justice. One of the ships, a carrack with a mermaid carving along the bowsprit, sailed alongside them. The captain looked down at them from the quartermast. He was a middle-aged man who wore a leather cap that sat askew on his gray head.

  “Are you in need of a ride to shore, sirs?” he asked in a polite tone.

  “Yes, that would be most gracious of you, sir,” Lucius said.

  The captain nodded and waved over one of his crew to the starboard side. The crew member was a large man with a thick neck and a double chin. He lowered a rope bridge on the side of the ship for them to ascend.

  Once they were on board, the captain looked them over, and his eyes widened at the sight of Siegfried.

  “By the waves! You’re an elf. An elf in Aldron. I never thought I’d see the day,” he said.

  Siegfried nodded awkwardly, but said nothing.

  There was a brief silence which Lucius chose to break. “If you could drop us by the nearest dock, that will do fine, Captain—”

  “Evans. Captain Nigel Evans is my name. And I’d be happy to take you to the east dock. There’s an inn with a friendly tavern that will suit wayfarers like you,” he said.

  “Oh. Well, actually we’re headed to Gilead Palace,” Lucius replied.

  Captain Evans chuckled. “Not in wet clothes, you aren’t. You’ll catch your death of cold when the evening comes.”

  He had a point, Lucius thought. They were both drenched, and it would be quite inappropriate to meet with the realm’s most powerful ruler in wet clothing. Plus the mention of a tavern suddenly made Lucius’ stomach growl. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and judging by the position of the sun, it was already late in the afternoon. Somehow their passage through the Elder Gate had taken longer than it seemed. In his estimation, the trip had only been a few seconds long. But the current time of day proved otherwise.

  “The east docks will work fine for us, Mr. Evans,” Siegfried replied, folding his arms.

  The captain nodded and gave the order to his crew, over a dozen men who all had similar appearances. They were bulky and wore traditional sailors’ clothes which consisted of wool striped shirts, faded leather pants, and long black boots that reached just below their knees.

  As the ship careened toward the shoreline, Lucius walked up to the prow and watched the splendor of Aldron grow closer. He’d never imagined the city would look so massive. Buildings of all sizes filled the landscape, packed closely together like a herd of sheep in a small pen. Smoke rose from every chimney, and beyond the shore scores of people hustled to their destinations. From this distance he could see Gilead Palace clearly.

  It was a majestic sight.

  Its towers dominated the skyline, and elaborate buttresses pressed against the central keep where the Royal Guards defended the palace day and night. Apart from the excitement of finally arriving here, Lucius felt a deep pang of dread inside. He was nearer to completing the task Helmer entrusted to them. But that also meant he was closer to facing Kraegyn. The thought of that encounter kept him awake on nights when the nightmares didn’t. He sighed, trying to forget his fear and remain positive. They had the final item Naomi needed to forge the sword, but now the challenge would be to find her and Violet inside this massive city. He hoped they weren’t too late.

  CHAPTER 9

  REUNION

  Two days had passed since Violet and Avani were taken to Gilead Palace from the Windrose Inn. Sir Robert and a handful of his coterie arrived at the inn one evening asking for her. Violet had to admit the humiliated look on the man’s face was priceless. The embarrassed seneschal arrived with a summons from Silas himself, which made her heart skip a beat.

  Avani, on the other hand, was far less thrilled by the turn of good fortune. She was ready to leave Aldron and set out for Numa, but they could not do so until Lucius and Siegfried brought them the mithas powder. Moody as ever, Avani did not take to their new luxurious room in the palace with as much excitement as Violet.

  Born the daughter of a miller, Violet had never known opulence or wealth like Avani, a princess of Numa. She had lived in relative squalor in Aldron’s peasant district, eking out an existence by helping her father run the mill. Her mother died of a plague that struck the city when Violet was just eight years old. Somehow her father pushed forward despite the crushing loss of his beloved wife. Violet admired his strength, but could not overcome her grief so quickly. Just a few days after her fifteenth birthday, she lost him too. She became a poor orphan with no title and little money to pay the rent for the mill.

  Thankfully, her parents had taught her how to be resourceful in meager times and, like her mother, she discovered a talent for apothecarial art. Preparing healing salves and nonsensical items like love potions created a lucrative income for a young girl. But the downside was earning a reputation as a witch or sorceress among the uneducated peasantry. In time, she moved away from the wealthy city and traveled north to Sylvania, where people were far more tolerant of her talents.

  Once settled in Sylvania, she became friends with the local blacksmith, Naomi. In time she learned Avani’s true identity and mission, and together they purchased an old cottage with an iron forge on the outskirts of the town. It was a dingy, unkempt dwelling, but it served both their purposes fine—and, most importantly, it was home.

  Now as she walked around in her room, filled with exquisite furniture and richly embroidered linens, she felt homesick for her humble cottage. The room had a gorgeous view from a large window overlooking the inner court of the palace. She opened it and watched rows upon rows of men-at-arms drilling below. Beyond them she saw the royal stables where her horse, Homer, was being groomed and unsaddled by one of the stable aides. Poor Homer had not acclimated well to the hustle and bustle of Aldron. He jumped nervously around the constant stream of people on Aldron’s street. The old chestnut stallion preferred the relative quiet of the forest and the slow ease of country living.

  Violet felt the same way. But something about this city held allure in her heart. Perhaps it was that her parents were buried here and the proximity created a closer connection to her family. But upon further thought she realized it was something else.

  Silas.

  She had fallen deeply in love with him. The moments they had shared on the road together were burned in her memory. There was an attraction between them that was more real than anything she’d ever experienced. No man had ever kissed her before Silas and, in her opinion, no man probably cared to. She wasn’t an unattractive woman, but being an apothecary frightened most men away. After all, no man wanted to break the heart of a woman they thought could be a witch. Luckily for her, those assumptions had not prevented Silas from expressing his true feelings toward her. She was excited to be able to see him again, and waiting to meet him became excruciating with each passing second.

  “Violet, is the fire lit?” Avani asked from her upstairs loft.

  Their room had peculiar design. It housed a staircase a few feet from the entry door that spiraled upward into a loft where Avani slept. Violet’s bed was directly beneath it, with a small hearth on the opposite wall. The past two days, Avani had complained that the room was drafty. But Violet believed Avani’s lack of warmth was due to the loft being so far from the fireplace.

  “Sorry, I’ll light it now,” she replied.

  After shutting the window to keep out the cool autumn air, she crossed the room to the hearth, striking her flint and steel to prepare the fire.

  Avani descended the staircase and watched her curiously. The elf wasn’t wearing her headscarf which kept her pointed ears and hair concealed. The tresses of her hair spilled onto her brown-skinned shoulders like a black waterfall. She wore a simple gown with an embroidered chamois pattern along the waistline. Even in humble, threadbare attire, she was still stunning. Violet could not fathom why the princess had not found a
suitor before she left Numa.

  “Why are you doing that?” Avani asked. Her green eyes puzzled over the menial task Violet was performing. “We are in a palace. You can call any servant to handle it, Violet.”

  Violet furrowed her brow. “I can handle a simple fire, Avani. Besides, you’re not exactly dressed for company. Imagine the rumors that would spread if a house maid saw an elf princess in one of Alfryd’s guest rooms,” she said with a smile.

  Avani narrowed her eyes, not amused by the joke. “There’s no fault in being cautious.”

  “Oh yes, I know, I’m only kidding,” Violet said. “We will be extra careful not to let your secret slip.”

  “We?” Avani asked.

  “Well, you know, Silas and me,” Violet replied, fanning the small flame she had started on the firewood.

  “How can you be sure he hasn’t already told his father who I am?” Avani asked. She waved her arms around the room. “I mean, look where we are, Violet. This is no commoner’s room. I fear my identity is already compromised.”

  “It is not compromised, Avani. You should really learn to trust people. I am confident Silas hasn’t spoken a word about who you are to anyone. He’s a trustworthy man who seeks only to do what is right. He sent out his seneschal to find us. That alone should prove his worth. How many princes do you know who would do that?” Violet asked, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Not many,” Avani admitted. “But then the only princes I know are currently backstabbing my father and vying for his throne.”

  “Exactly. Silas isn’t like that. We can trust him, Avani. I know it,” Violet said emphatically.

  Avani turned to her and regarded her curiously. A thin smile played on her lips. “You like him, don’t you?”

  “What?” Violet asked, taken aback by the question. “Well, I suppose…he’s a gentleman and, I mean…I respect his position and…well, he’s a brave man certainly—”

  “You like him,” Avani said, smiling broadly. “Perhaps more than you wish to let on?”