Ferral's Deathmarch Army
28
The Black Citadel
Telosep reflected on the enormity of his mistake.
By the next morning, the Endargo struggled to make it back toward the shoreline. The storm had torn most of his sails. Only the foresail remained intact. Debris lay all over the deck; every man aboard had suffered some form of injury.
But not Allisia. She still huddled under the main mast, drinking a cup of hot tea. The merchant captain had hoped to appease her anger by cutting her ropes and letting her do as she pleased. After all, she had no place to go.
“I lost a quarter of my crew last night,” the captain said to her.
“I’m sorry,” Allisia responded.
“Why should you be sorry? I knew most of them and I’m not sorry, except that this has slowed us down a lot. Crippled like we are, it will take us all day to get back to Belarna.” Telosep paused to look at Allisia intently. “How did you do it?” he asked Allisia.
“I didn’t do it,” Allisia replied. “God is not pleased with you, Captain Telosep.”
He laughed for a moment thinking the joke good until he saw Allisia staring at him. Telosep’s grin changed to a frown as he left her.
Allisia shivered from the sea breeze. She was completely soaked, and though the blanket had helped insulate her, a cold penetrated her skin and settled deep within her. Allisia looked out toward land hoping to see someone coming to save her, but she could only see water.
The voices in Allisia’s head were silent, for the moment, and she had no idea what to expect. Her reunion with Ferral frightened her. Allisia missed the voices—anything to give her comfort, even if it meant losing her mind.
“Kristian, where are you,” Allisia pleaded.
Allisia felt no connection to him. The voices did not respond. She was alone.
At that same moment, Kristian sat in the bow of one of the fishing boats staring north. He prayed that Allisia was still safe. He prayed that he would arrive in time. Behind him, Holtsmen rowed as hard as they could, hoping to make up for lost time. Their little triangular sails caught the wind and they made good speed, but it took them longer to get the boats ready than Kristian liked. He knew something terrible was about to happen. He felt as if Allisia was calling to him right now.
Kristian’s concern grew. He feared they would not find the citadel in the dark. Cairn eased his worries by showing him the stars shining overhead. “If we stay to the right of the Timekeeper and continue north, we will reach the city.” Cairn’s words comforted Kristian until he noticed the full moon.
“That’s the second full moon of the month.” Kristian noted, worried. “This is the spring celestial of Belatarn.”
“I have never heard of that,” Mikhal replied.
“I guess something came from all of my reading,” Kristian said. “When Belatarn was viewed as more of a peaceful god, this was a night for celebration and offering. Belarnians burned plates full of wheat and corn from the previous year’s harvest hoping Belatarn would be pleased. They hoped he would grant them a bountiful harvest the following fall. Once Belatarn became a darker god, this became a horrific night. Many people were sacrificed to him during the spring celestial.” Kristian sprang up, looking desperately to the north.
“How much longer before we get there?” Kristian asked.
“A few hours,” Cairn said.
Kristian did not like the answer, but he could do little more than wait. He now feared that Allisia was completely out of time. If the wise man was right, Ferral had her back in his cruel hands. The historical significance of the night made Kristian worry even more.
Cairn moved further back in the boat to sit next to Vi-tonia. Her guards moved aside grudgingly to make room. Vi-tonia pulled strands of hair from her face and looked at Cairn. Cairn realized that her stare made him uncomfortable.
“What do you know that’s so important that you’re willing to risk your life to share it with us?” Cairn asked Vi-tonia bluntly. She shifted, uncomfortable with his directness.
“The Atlunam race is much older than you can imagine, Cairn. We have created and destroyed wonders the world has never heard of. My father knows much that he doesn’t want to share with outsiders. He thinks I am too young to realize what he has been hiding, but I am cleverer than he thinks.”
Vi-tonia turned toward Cairn then, a sad smile on her pretty face. “Our people are wasting away because they refuse to adapt. This new threat should be easy for them to defeat, but Ferral’s dead will most likely destroy my people.” She grabbed Cairn’s leg pleading. “I don’t ever want to go back. Please let me stay.”
Cairn answered, showing little emotion. “Tell me what you know.”
Reluctantly, Vi-tonia told Cairn everything. It took more than an hour for Vi-tonia to finish her story. Cairn was speechless at the end.
After a long silence, Cairn nodded. “A few weeks ago I would have laughed at what you just told me. Now, I don’t know what to believe. Your story is at least important enough that Kristian should be told.”
“But not now,” Vi-tonia urged.
“No,” Cairn agreed. “Not now. Let’s get through tonight first and then see what tomorrow holds.”
“Thank you, Cairn, for giving me a chance. You can’t imagine what life was like for me back there. Te was … he was.” Vi-tonia could not finish. Cairn did not understand and felt awkward. He did not know what to say or do. He gave the princess a perfunctory nod and moved back toward the front of the boat.
The harbor was quiet when the Endargo slowly passed the broken towers at the entrance to the protected bay. The ship listed badly. The crew’s apparent bad luck had continued to plague them throughout the day. Rocks just below the surface had torn a hole in the bottom of the Belarnian ship. They had lost all of their supplies, and they would have sunk if not for Telosep’s actions.
Telosep had quickly assessed the damage and ordered the lower decks sealed. The hole was on the bottom most level. If they could seal off the upper decks, preventing water from getting higher, his ship would make it home.
Three crewmen had already died from the incident. When the Endargo hit the rocks the three, working below deck, were thrown against the bulkhead, each of them sustaining severe injuries that could not be treated.
When Telosep walked by Allisia later, he said, “I suppose God did that to let me know that he is still not pleased with me?” Allisia just looked at him, smiling.
They were finally able to dock next to the black walls of Belarna as the sun fell and the full, yellow moon rose up over the western horizon.
A few small warehouses stood out along the wharf along with many shabby homes and taverns. When the boat came into the harbor, sentries became more alert and rushed down to assist them. A party of ten soldiers stood waiting on the dock for Allisia when the Endargo arrived.
Telosep gently pulled Allisia to her feet. Allisia swaggered, weak from the lack of food and sleep. She shivered. Allisia coughed, unable to suppress the sickness beginning to affect her. “You were supposed to take care of her. Ferral is not going to be pleased about this,” Inneskel challenged.
“Belatarn’s Balls!” Telosep roared. “I lost fifteen men in one day. We’re lucky to be alive. Tell His Majesty that I did everything I could to protect her, while all you did was slap her.” Telosep gently handed her over to the Black Guards officer.
As they escorted her back into the city, a crashing noise turned them around. The main mast had snapped off and fell to the deck. A piercing scream and a loud crash echoed along the dock. The guards ran back, pulling Allisia with them. The crew was pulling rigging away from where the fallen timber had pinned someone down, Telosep. A sharp splinter of the mast had pierced him through the chest and nailed him to the deck. His eyes were wide open and blood bubbled between his lips. Telosep gasped for air that could not enter his shattered lungs. It took him a long time to die.
Four small fishing boats sat still in the waters watching a crippled ship
enter the harbor. They were too far away for Kristian to discern the events on board, but he felt it prudent to wait for the activity to settle down before they moved to their proposed landing site
They could see the southern tower easy enough. Half of the crenellated top had collapsed, making the structure look like a finger pointing toward the sky. The ruined tower stood at the very end of a rock wall that rose about ten feet above the surface of the water. Dark and gloomy and made of the same rock as the city’s walls, the ruined blocks stood as an affirmation of Ferral’s rule.
“Are you ready?” Mikhal whispered.
Kristian sighed and nodded. They knew they had to take the tower fast but without any sound. The Holtsmen took every care to row without making noise. They had taken down the sails to make sure they did not give the party away. As the boats neared the sea wall, Kristian scanned the area for guards, but he could see no immediate threats. His heart pounded in anticipation of the battle sure to come.
They leapt off the boats and onto the rocks when they neared the shore. Hin’cabo and Cairn crept up to the tower to check it out. They waved back down to Kristian that it was safe. The tower proved much bigger than Kristian had thought. They had enough room for the entire group to hide on the opposite side of the tower, away from the walls of the city, and the eyes of any guards.
Balhir ordered some of his men to start searching the inside of the tower for a tunnel entrance. The men had to take off all of their armor just to squeeze through the small opening where the door used to be. There was rubble everywhere. The debris helped conceal them as they moved around the tower, but the cut stone also hindered them in their search. Three Holtsmen managed to get inside. They reported back to Balhir after a few moments.
“It looks like there might have been a storage area under the main floor, but the floor and access to the basement are buried under the remains of the roof,” Balhir reported. “We need to clear this doorway and start getting the roof out of there.”
“How long will it take?” Kristian asked, frustrated by yet another setback.
“Kristian, we expected this. Take heart. My men will work hard for you.” Realizing Balhir was right, Kristian could do nothing more than nod and let Balhir and his men get to work.
The clearing operation took them an hour. Balhir came back to report they had moved enough stone out of the main chamber to see another floor beneath the main hall. Debris filled the basement as well, but Balhir assured Kristian his men were working very quickly.
The Holtsman came back with good news just a few minutes later.
“There is a tunnel,” Balhir proclaimed with excitement. “I would never have trusted an Atlunam, but … well, there is a tunnel and it follows the seawall back toward the city.”
“We’re ready then?” Kristian asked, standing.
“Not yet, give us a few more minutes.”
Kristian paced back and forth, it did not take long before everything was ready. Cairn approached Vi-tonia and Maurin. “There will be much fighting tonight. While we are in the tunnel you need to stay at the rear of the column. Once we are above ground again, stay toward the center of the group.” He looked directly at Vi-tonia’s protectors and said in their language, “Make sure she stays safe.”
The one named Iohn replied with a confident grin, “We would do nothing less, Malit a’Shaif.” Cairn had not been called that name for many years. Before Vi-tonia had called him that, he had almost forgotten his nickname among their people. Cairn nodded and walked away.
The narrow tunnel felt damp and smelled like fetid salt water. Puddles reflected their torchlight all along the uneven ground as they continued down the musty corridor. Cairn and Hin’cabo again led, making sure the way was safe. The group did not travel far before they reached a stairway leading up. Cairn climbed up to investigate but stopped after only a few feet.
“The way is blocked,” Cairn said.
Kristian cursed in frustration. He smacked his fist against the wall, his anger mounting. Mikhal grew concerned at this. The cavalier remembered too well what happened the last time they had attacked Ferral, and Kristian had lost his patience. Mikhal did not think they would survive a second time if Kristian made the same mistake again.
Balhir quickly moved his men to the front to assess the job. “It is not as bad as it looks. This is a small wall that was erected to seal the tunnel off. We can break through the bricks easily.” One of the warriors used his dagger to chisel away the mortar between the bricks. He did this until he could pry the stone out.
Kristian could see nothing on the opposite side. It was deathly quiet on the far side, somehow darker than the tunnel they were in. At least they knew they had not alerted anyone to their presence. Balhir gave them the nod to continue. As fast as they could without making too much noise, his men removed the other bricks until a man could squeeze through. Cairn went through first, followed by Hin’cabo. Balhir passed them a torch so they could better search the new chamber.
The room was a crypt. Tombs lined the walls. An eerie feeling permeated the place unsettling both of the seasoned fighters. Cairn checked out one of the tombs and thought he heard the faint sound of scraping coming from within. Cairn backed cautiously away.
Hin’cabo scouted out the exit and returned. The way ahead was clear and led to a larger chamber. From there, Hin’cabo had seen the streets of the city. Soon the entire party stood in the crypt. Mikhal heard the scraping sounds coming from another tomb and pulled his sword free. People started to panic, but Cairn came over and shushed them. “They can’t get out. The lids are too heavy for them.” Cairn’s opinion did little to comfort those with little experience near the creatures. Vi-tonia, Iohn, and Pak stayed as far away from each of the tombs as they could.
The next room was the main chamber of a large temple. Broken columns of marble lay strewn across the expansive floor; a large dais rose up next to them. A large column had fallen and smashed whatever used to sit on top of the raised platform. The black column crushed the marble tiles underneath.
Cairn looked out from the entrance into the city street. They were in a rundown section of the lower city, not far from the inner wall. Cairn knew that they had to get across the city and into the palace without alerting the guards.
“So, how are we going to get inside?” Mikhal asked Cairn.
“We’ll move as quickly as possible,” Cairn answered.
Mikhal thought Cairn was finally developing a sense of humor, but Cairn stepped into the dark street and ran toward the palace. Mikhal cursed and followed the swordsman. One by one, the rest of the group followed Cairn up the street.