Lozan fidgeted in his chair, unable to find comfort in any position. He was restless and nervous but nervous appeared to be getting the upper hand at the moment. Many sleepless nights had passed since Braulor and Tagan's dramatic escape and despite the best efforts of his soldiers, they had not been found. One by one his patrols had returned empty handed and now there was only one patrol left out there searching. The other patrols hadn't been fruitless. They found Droinj’s body downriver. It had washed ashore, curiously relieved of clothes and weapons. Lozan supposed that Droinj’s possessions could have come off as a consequence of bouncing around the Jaswulder River for several miles but didn’t believe that to be the case. That could only mean that someone had removed Droinj’s possessions from his body. Lozan's wanted to believe the ‘someone’ who had taken the items had been Tagan. Part of him threw out a reminder that the ‘someone’ could have been the prisoner, Braulor, and Tagan was dead. Lozan was praying to any god that would listen to not let that be the case. He didn’t know if he could face Kyriu with that kind of news.
Another distressing fact was that Tagan could’ve taken Droinj’s equipment, sent his body on its way and left the river in any number of possible directions. That was assuming of course that Tagan had survived the plunge out the window. It could have been Braulor that survived and it was only a matter of time before Tagan's body turned up even farther down river. Or not turn up at all, who knows. There was always a chance that Tagan's body was stuck under some log at the bottom of the river and bits and pieces of him would only be revealed as the flesh rotted enough for limbs to break away. But, Lozan had to hold out hope that wasn't the case. It was all he had to cling to.
Lozan puzzled even deeper over Braulor. He was familiar with the name of course. Braulor was one of the Citadels most wanted for crimes against the state but Lozan didn't really know anything about him beyond that. Lozan even had the head magistrate to his quarters to brief him on the exact nature of Braulor’s crimes. It hadn't helped.
Braulor was the typical rabble rouser that the Citadel tried to quell before they got too powerful and became a real nuisance. Braulor had been caught breaking into Citadel encampments and stealing supplies. That sort of thing was common, and by itself punishable by death, but Braulor had also excelled at the black market trade which the Citadel wanted to put an end to. Anything that took power away from the Citadel, or more importantly, took money out of the Citadel’s vaults, was forbidden and for this flouting of Citadel authority, Braulor had escalated up the ranks of the most wanted. Now of course Braulor had the distinct honor of being the most sought after man in the land. If he was a ghost before he really needed to be invisible now.
A search of the Citadel records however had not revealed any person named Braulor born within Brankin Huoh’s borders. This was unheard of. Since the enactment of the one child per family decree, meticulous records had been kept and it was unfathomable that any one person would not end up on a list somewhere. Only two conclusions could be drawn. Either Braulor was from another territory, which would be time consuming to discover, or someone under Citadel rule had an illegitimate child. This seemed the most likely scenario and it was on this thought that he was pondering.
If Braulor was an illegal offspring, to whom was he born and how did it go undetected? A pregnant woman close to full term is difficult to hide after all. And where would they have gone to deliver? Far from coming to a conclusion this thought was spinning out of control in his mind, like an overzealous weed, with sprouts shooting off in every direction. Could there be more offspring such as Braulor? Most certainly if there was one, there had to be others. How many were there? How did these people escape the exhaustive scrutiny of his guards? Lozan wondered if the iron grip of control he exercised over Brankin Huoh was as tenuous as it felt of late.
Tired of questions without answers, Lozan shoved these topics aside for reviewing another day. He had larger concerns.
Kyriu had returned and was outraged that Tagan had escaped. Lozan was still in shock at the violence Kyriu displayed when he found out. The scene was still vivid in his memory.
Kyriu lashed out immediately at the nearest adept and slashed his face from one side to the other, a second slash severing his vocal chords, cutting the poor man’s screaming short. The adept fell to his knees and pleaded for help to anyone who had the courage to look him in the eyes, even as his blood drained across his hands in waves of crimson, splattering onto the floor. Nobody helped of course. They knew if they did, they would be next.
Kyriu grabbed another adept by the neck and choked the life out of him with one hand, his face contorted in a mix of rage and pleasure as the life-force drained from the adept’s body. He dropped the lifeless form to the ground and snarled at Lozan that is what he could expect if Tagan was not found and then he swept from the chamber without another word; his demonstration of evil speaking volumes.
The door to his chamber burst open and Lozan jumped, his hands grasping the arms of his chair. He was relieved to see that it was only one of the Citadel messengers and not Kyriu barging in to satiate his blood lust. It wasn’t protocol for messengers to barge in in such a fashion but given the gravity of the current situation Lozan had instructed them to notify him immediately of any updates; even if they had to wake him.
The messenger was panting as though he had run full tilt across the entire Citadel and stood before Lozan with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.
"What is it?" Lozan snapped, perturbed at the disturbance even though he had authorized it. "Has the patrol returned?"
"They sent a runner back." The messenger managed to get this out in between grabbing lungful’s of air.
"And what news did he bring?"
"He will only speak to you, my lord." Catching his breath, the messenger remembered the proper protocol when addressing Lozan.
"Lead me to him then."
"Yes, my lord." The messenger stood up straight, turned on his heel and headed out the door into the hallway.
Lozan arose from his chair and followed the messenger, not bothering to close the door behind him. One of his staff would to it for him and besides, he was anxious to hear what the runner had to report. His life depended on it.
"Let’s hope this is good news." Kyriu’s controlled his voice. He had let his rage get the better of him earlier and he regretted it.
Lozan didn't even flinch. A part of him expected Kyriu to already be abreast of what was happening but this was like he had been waiting out in the hall the entire time. Planning his death perhaps? It sent a chill down his spine.
Lozan turned and nodded his head in Kyriu’s direction. "I was just going to send for you."
"I know you were but I couldn't wait any longer. You're scared Lozan. I can feel it. It emanates from you like a smell and clings to you."
Lozan shuddered as the visage of Kyriu's rage induced carnage sprang to life in his mind once more like some play that had been on a break and resumed their gruesome act now that they had his attention. "You know much, my lord." And he nodded his head once more toward Kyriu.
"Since our little encounter at the induction ceremony, I know more than you care for me to Lozan."
Lozan stiffened at mention of when he and Kyriu crossed minds. Lozan had skeletons of his own and he preferred to keep that knowledge to himself.
Kyriu chuckled. It was a guttural gurgling that came up from deep in his chest like a phlegmy cough. "Don't worry Lozan. There wasn't anything too terrible in there. Your bigger concern should be this runner's report."
Lozan swallowed but remained silent as they continued down the hall.
The messenger made a turn to the right, followed by a left that took Lozan and Kyriu down a flight of stairs, across a wide hallway, stopping at set of large doors.
Lozan stepped through the door the messenger was holding open for them, stopping just inside the room. He didn't wait for Kyriu. Lozan knew he was there, right at heels and he heard Kyriu shuffle ins
ide the room and the door close behind them with a whispering thud. The messenger stayed outside.
They were in a small room, flooded with light streaming in through a window on one side, the suns brilliance reflecting from the high shine the few pieces of furniture in the room bore. The runner was seated on a chair near a high arching window. Beside him, Lozan's head of security detail, Fiborn, was standing, one hand on the back of the chair, as he faced the runner, locked in deep conversation.
Lozan studied the runner. He recognized him at once having seen him doing drills with the main company, though he did not know his name. He was a young man, perhaps a few months above the minimum age for joining the guard. The young ones were often chosen to be the runners. Not only because they had lots of energy but because they had something to prove and would give that extra effort to make sure that the message they were trusted with made it to the ears of those it was intended for.
Fiborn stood up straight and nodded a few more cursory times at the runner then turned and approached Lozan.
Kyriu melted into the shadows.
"My lord." Fiborn bowed his head.
"What news is there on the escapees?" Lozan wanted to get to the heart of the matter right away.
"He would only give me a few details. He wanted to relay the full message directly to you as he was charged."
"What is his name?"
"Praet. He is third generation security detail. His grandfather was Paralt."
"Paralt?"
Everybody knew Paralt. He was a hero for saving the Citadel's leader of his day. His name was celebrated each year on the first day of spring along with other heroes of the land. Another show of the Citadel’s might.
Lozan composed his thoughts and then approached Praet. "Your grandfather was a great man Praet." He used his most comforting voice as a way to break the ice.
Praet was shaking but didn't answer, only nodding to Lozan.
"I understand you have some news for me son. Did your patrol find the escapees?"
Praet took a deep breath before speaking. "My Lord." He inclined his head toward Lozan. "We crossed the river a ways back from where Droinj was found and picked up a set of tracks."
"Only one set?" Lozan interrupted, wanting to make sure he understood.
"Yes, one set, two or three days old, but it looks like there was a second person that was injured and was being carried on a stretcher or something because there were lines that were on either side of the tracks we found."
Lozan thought to himself for a moment. Three men went out the window. They found Droinj and now there was one person at least that was still alive. Lozan prayed to himself that it was Tagan. "So you followed the tracks and then what?"
"Yes sir, we started tracking them. The single set carried on for a ways to the base of the mountains. Hilly terrain but we found the stretcher hidden. From there the drag marks stopped and there were two sets of prints."
Lozan brightened when he heard that. That meant that Tagan was still alive, perhaps not in the best condition, but alive. "Where did the tracks lead to Praet?"
"They mostly stuck close to the road."
"And?" Lozan was growing impatient and wanted to get to the good news he hoped was at the end of this story.
"Well. Something must have spooked them because they kept up an intense pace. The tracks finally left the road, up into the mountains on an unmarked trail."
"They haven't been caught then? Or even spotted?" Lozan burst out, his hope fading to anger and rage. Then he got hold of himself and calmed down. Getting angry wasn't going to solve anything. Tagan was alive and that was something to work on. "And you were sent back to the Citadel at this point?"
"Yes, my lord. Captain sent me back. They were preparing to follow them up the trail. I ran almost non-stop to get back here."
"You did well Praet." Lozan patted him on the shoulder.
Lozan called for the messenger. The messenger entered the room and Lozan instructed him to take Praet back to the barracks for some well-deserved rest and extra rations.
"Thank you, my lord. That is most kind of you." Praet bowed to Lozan and then followed the messenger from the room, his chest out with pride.
Lozan walked over to the window and leaned on the sill, looking out over the land. Sweeping the horizon he could see the mountains that concealed his prize and he scowled.
Kyriu appeared at his side. "What now Lozan? Tagan has escaped your guards and we may never find him. This is not acceptable." And he turned and left Lozan alone.
Lozan listened as he heard Kyriu pad across the room and out the door.
"My lord."
"Leave me, Fiborn."
"As you wish, my lord." Fiborn exited the room like a ghost, leaving Lozan to himself.
Alone at last, Lozan felt like a huge weight was pressing down on him, threatening to crush him. He was losing control. A few weeks ago everything was going to plan. Tagan was under Citadel control and Kyriu was happy. Now he knew his life depended on finding Tagan and fast but he was at a loss as to how to proceed. The mountain paths could lead anywhere. There was enough food and water in there to keep Tagan and Braulor going at least until winter. The other side of the mountains belonged to a different ruler but he couldn't ask him for help. If he were to capture Tagan, Kyriu could turn his favor to him. Lozan couldn't have that. Not after all the work and sacrifice he had put in to get where he was. Once again his thoughts drifted to Braulor. The way out of this mess seemed to point to him. If he could only find out more about him then he might be able to formulate some sort of plan. He continued to gaze out the window, not really thinking of anything in particular and letting his mind wander when it came to him. The small glimmer of hope he had been waiting for. A flash of memory back to just before Braulor and Tagan went out the window. They were standing in the meeting room, Braulor was holding Tagan around the neck and Lozan noticed how alike they looked. He was stunned and he chided himself for not remembering the resemblance before but he could be forgiven with all that happened after that. His flagging spirit found one last rung to hang on to, one last strand of hope of which to cling. He hoped it was strong enough to pull him from the abyss he could feel himself sinking into.
Lozan stood up straight and looked in the direction of the mountain range one last time and delivered it a menacing look, then turned and left.
Chapter 21