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- And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said,
- Hail Master; and kissed him.
- And Jesus said unto him,
- Friend, wherefore art thou come?
- Then they came, and laid hands on Jesus,
- and took him.
-Gospel of Saint Matthew
A traitor unmasked
Aslief had, after things at the border had settled for the winter, finally managed to arrange an oft-delayed meeting with the king in Beli Mawr. Sadly, the information he needed to pass along had become a bit dated in the press of events, still, the king had wanted him to attend a meeting where they would attempt to ferret out the traitor in their midst. The meeting had been postponed time and again through the winter, at the behest of the chancellor, until at last an urgent summons from the king himself had Aslief literally dropping everything and riding hell-bent for the capital.
The morning after his late arrival in the capital, the Captain of the Alvar Border Guard reported directly to the office of Captain Ieuan, who now commanded the royal guard in its entirety. Aslief rushed to see Ieuan, pausing only long enough to brush the wet snow from his cloak, before allowing his long strides to carry him to his destination. Standing in the doorway and peering into the office, he spotted a harried Ieuan surrounded by officials of the court, apparently in heated discussion over some matter of protocol. Stepping into the room, Aslief cleared his throat, providing enough of a distraction that Ieuan was able to notice his arrival.
Ieuan returned his gaze to the royal seneschal, “Marin, this matter is clearly in my purview as commander of the royal guard. As his majesty’s security is my concern, my decision stands. This conference will be held in the tower conference room because of the sensitive nature of the items under discussion. Please have your staff prepare the room, and lay out a luncheon buffet. This meeting is restricted to the attendants and will be secured by people I trust. Your objections have been noted and overruled. If you think I am being overbearing, please feel free to speak with the king. However, before you embarrass yourself completely, you should know that these orders originated with the king himself, and I believe you know how well he has suffered foolish complaints of late.”
The Seneschal, clearly unused to being addressed in such a blunt fashion, stepped back from Ieuan, shock clearly written on his features. While he disagreed with the additional work a meeting in the tower would cause, he was unprepared to start a fight with both the captain of the guard and the king, who had, of late, suffered complaints over protocol with extremely poor humor. Seeing this discussion to be over, Marin bit back the sharp retort he had initially planned, and instead stated, “Very well, Captain, we will have the tower ready on time, but do you really intend the royalty of two kingdoms to serve themselves?” Marin was clearly aghast at the very notion.
Ieuan heaved a great sigh of frustration, and tried a slightly different tack. “Marin, I understand you want nothing to do with offending the Damarrk contingent, or demeaning the hospitality of the king. Still, this was ordered by the king after discussion with King Mtedas. The king was actually looking forward to building his own sandwiches for a change, joking that he’d be able to put the amount of condiments on that he wanted: something about onions and mustard. Anyway, please, humor us in this matter, just this once?”
Marin, seeing the attempt at conciliation, elected to reciprocate in kind by responding with a low chuckle, “Very well, Ieuan. We shall humor his majesty and allow him to build his own sandwich this time. Things will be ready on time if I get after them immediately. If you’ll excuse me?”
Seeing the humor in the situation, Ieuan laughed as well, waving the other official on his way. As the entourage of household staff filed out, he turned to his most recent visitor with a smile, reaching out his right hand, pulling Aslief into a rough hug. “Captain Aslief, it is very good to see you again! I was beginning to wonder if you would arrive in time, old friend.”
“And a good morning to you as well, my friend! Congratulations on your latest promotion are in order, I see.”
Ieuan actually blushed at the praise from his former commander and mentor. “It would seem fate has been kind to me. Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable. Have you eaten?”
Aslief grinned, “I actually made it back last night, Ieuan. I took the liberty of spending the night with my family, and broke my fast with them before coming to the palace in response to your rather cryptic summons.”
Ieuan quickly whispered an incantation that shielded the room they were in before he would proceed any further. “Aslief, we have had a break in the search for the traitor in the palace, and we are gathering to settle this problem once and for all. This meeting is being restricted to the two of us in our capacities as the kingdom’s senior army officers, the king, the prince, young Lieutenant Riordan, the prince’s foster brother, and three Damarrk lords: King Redtac Mtedas, his heir, Prince Galus, and a Master Mage by name of Rirer Nidrun.”
“The chancellor is ill?” Aslief inquired. “He would normally be included in a conference of this magnitude.”
“No, my friend, he has been gone for most of the winter, and no one seems to have any idea where he is,” Ieuan replied. “The Damarrk claim to know what the traitor looks like, and further claim to have this information backed up by four members of the Wildon Border Guard. They are prepared to allow the king to scan their memories with his mind master skills to whatever depth necessary to prove the veracity of their claims.”
Stunned, Aslief sat back into the depths of the armchair, pondering the latest bit of information. “This conference, then, is to identify the traitor and determine how best to proceed?”
“Indeed, my friend, indeed it is.”
The view from the conference room in the north tower was stunning, offering vistas of the beautiful Alvar capital city, the gleaming temple of Vindayin to the north, and the snow-mantled countryside, its serene beauty belying the serious nature of the discussion about to take place inside. The room itself had thick walls of stone, cleverly laid together using a mortise and tenon system, that interlocked the massive blocks together without the use of mortar, the joints so finely crafted a piece of parchment could not be fitted between the stones.
The floor, unlike the walls, was crafted of finely shaped pieces of varicolored hardwoods, the pieces cleverly joined so that the floor of the room, when viewed in its entirety, was revealed to be a finely detailed representation of the linden tree in full bloom, the symbol of The Greenwood.
The household staff exited the chamber as the assembled royalty and military leaders seated themselves. A brisk nod from Ieuan had the guard detail seal the doors, with explicit instruction that the door was only to be opened again from the inside. Ieuan personally barred the massive oaken doors from the inside, before stepping inside and casting the first of eight shield spells, the depth and layering intended to assure all parties to the meeting that they were, indeed, as safe and insulated from unwanted attention as possible. On the completion of the multicolored ward, which gleamed like a rainbow, the participants gathered at the buffet table and built themselves a luncheon based on their own preferences from amongst the array of breads, meats, vegetables, and condiments arrayed on the table.
There was some quiet banter amongst the group, handling the expected courtesies and introductions, as they casually ate their lunch, before setting their plates aside and getting down to the business at hand.
As host, King Dacian began with, “I’m hoping we can keep this meeting informal, your majesty?”
A wide grin split the face of the Damarrk king as Redtac replied, “Well, seeing as we’ve managed to remove anyone who would be scandalized by kings acting like ordinary people, I think that would suit me just fine, Dacian.”
Smiling in relief, Dacian ventured, “It would seem that each of us has information the other needs. Aslief, would you be so good as to update our friends on your findings from last fall?”
Leaning forward in his chair, Aslief outlined their discovery of the base camp the dark forces were using, and of how they had been able to overrun the camp and search it, thanks to the timely arrival of a company of Wildon’s Border Guard who had been chasing the creatures that had attacked the settlement of Cobham, on their mutual border. He continued by describing their discovery of the Alvar room in the command tent, and its layered defenses, before dropping the bombshell. “The most important thing, my Lords, is this; we discovered a transfer portal inside that room; and while we were unable to pinpoint the other end of the link, as its exact location was shielded, we were able to determine that the other end was located somewhere here, in Beli Mawr.”
Redtac carefully followed the story before he inquired, “Then you’ve known you have a rat in your plumbing for several months?”
Dacian nodded gravely, “We have known since last spring actually, but have never been able to put enough information together to pinpoint the source of the problem to any one person. Late last spring, Redtac, my daughter Meria, and grandson Kadin, were traveling incognito with a trade caravan bound for the city of Caemlann. The caravan was attacked in the forest of Erinor: the guard force killed, along with my daughter. Kadin disappeared,” the King purposely leaving out their knowledge that the boy was actually alive and well,“ and when the then-Lieutenant Ieuan searched the scene after the fact, found something indicating we had a problem. The dragonling who killed Meria had something in his pouch that could only have originated here in the palace: a missive containing the caravan’s schedule and route of travel.”
Prince Galus gasped quietly, “Treason!”
“Indeed, young man. When we heard your delegation had information that could enable us to, at long last, confirm who our rat is, we were most anxious to meet with you,” Dacian stated flatly.
Redtac turned to the being seated to his left, “Rirer, why don’t you outline what you discovered before we give visual proof to our Alvar friends?”
Nodding his head at his King’s suggestion, he replied, “Of course, my lord.” Rirer turned his attention to Dacian and the other Alvar leaders before launching into his description of how a warrior adept he had done business with in the past had turned up on his doorstep a few weeks back, in the uniform of a lieutenant in the Wildon Border Guard, explaining that he and his team had been supporting his commander in searching the Splitrock Knolls for evidence that someone was attempting to free the Hazar.
This news brought exclamations from all the assembled Alvar, as they gave vent to their concern over the possibility that anyone would be foolish enough to do such a thing. Finally, Dacian signaled for silence, and turned his gaze back on Rirer before stating, “I find it difficult to believe anyone could be so foolish, Master Rirer. What put the guard onto this idea in the first place?”
“I gather, my lord, that the facts came out during a command conference hosted by Bryon, the Baron of Wildon. While he was too modest to claim credit himself, Lieutenant Rician mentioned to me that his team commander actually put the facts together with a bit of assistance from Marshal Fychan ap Caradog.”
“Who is this officer, Rirer? Is he anyone we know?” Ieuan inquired.
“I don’t really know how well he is known here in the Greenwood, Captain, but he is of elvin descent, and is known as Captain Kail ap Lannet.”
Shocked to his core, Aslief leapt to his feet shouting, “Kail ap Lannet! Are you absolutely positive, Rirer?”
Everyone else stared at Aslief in shock, wondering what could have prompted such a reaction from the normally reserved officer.
“Absolutely, Captain. He appeared to be roughly 16 equivalent years in age, had long, shaggy brown hair, and a scar on his forehead that continued well back into his scalp. He might be young, but his team deferred to his wishes automatically: he clearly had the respect of men much older than himself. Rician and Sergeant Avery are tough, seasoned, leaders of men, but Kail was clearly in charge, and not just because he had rank on the others.”
Dacian turned his attention on Aslief, his right eyebrow raised, clearly expecting an explanation, “Captain?”
Aslief composed himself before responding, “My apologies, my lord, this is a most unexpected development.” Taking a deep breath he continued, “I met this young man at the battle of Cobham, and worked with him when we attacked the base camp of the dark ones. He was a lieutenant at that time, under Captain, now Marshal, Fychan ap Caradog. Kail ap Lannet, my king, was once your eldest son.”
Now it was everyone else’s turn to gape at Aslief in amazement and shock, as Aslief quietly detailed his private meeting with Kail after the battle of Cobham, and what Aslief had learned about the way the youth had been abused at his banishment from The Greenwood. “My Lord, those who were charged with his removal from the realm of the Alvar grossly exceeded the scope of their orders. He was struck on the head so viscously that he carries a scar on his forehead to this day. He was stripped naked and left for dead on the roadside outside Wildon in the dead of winter. It was sheer luck he was found wandering on the roadside by a dwarven mind master by name of Lannet, who took the injured boy in, restored him to health, and eventually adopted him.”
The king’s face turned red in anger as he heard the tale from Aslief, “While I am furious that Kail was abused in this fashion, what does this have to do with the matter under discussion, Captain?”
“Think about it, my lord! Kail was discredited, declared a non-elf, and banished from The Greenwood. High Priestess Meria was killed, Kadin was attacked and is missing, and we may have misread the intent of the attack on our escort for the new High Priestess a few months ago. It may very well have been aimed at removing the last legitimate heir to the throne. Who would stand to benefit if the throne was suddenly vacant?”
Dacian glanced at his grandson, Aric, as if to reassure himself that the young man was, indeed, still there. Carefully weighing the politics of the court, he quickly came to an unpleasant conclusion as Aslief seated himself again. “My lords, a most unsavory suspicion has crept on me uninvited, for while the various other families are fairly evenly balanced in the court relative to their influence, the most powerful lord in the court, the one who could easily take the throne for himself, is none other than Farwalker Redbush, my chancellor. Further, is it any coincidence that Farwalker is also among those who would have known the details of Meria and Kadin’s planned route of travel, and took personal responsibility for banishing Kail from the realm?”
Ieuan grew thoughtful as well, “My lords, this conference was delayed, time and again, by messages from none other than the chancellor himself. Is this, too, a coincidence? Possibly, but the evidence is beginning to paint our chancellor in a decidedly unfriendly light.”
Master Rirer then asked to stand, “My lords, perhaps this will put the matter to rest once and for all. I have the ability to project an image of anything I have personally witnessed. I propose to show you what we saw from a ledge overlooking the sealed southeast entrance to Ravenrock. With your permission, my lords?”
Both kings nodded their approval, sending Aric and Riordan to shutter the windows, an action requiring everyone to open gaps in their respective shield spells for the seconds required. Once the windows were darkened and the room lit only by the light from a few candles and the fireplace, Rirer opened his spell book and began a long incantation. Suddenly, the occupants of the room found themselves viewing the Splitrock Knolls, hundreds of leagues to the east. The eyes of each person in the room were immediately drawn to the lone Alvar in the scene, a face known intimately to each Alvar in the room: a face that confirmed their earlier suspicions.
Aric broke the stunned silence by putting a name to the face for the benefit of their Damarrk guests.
“Farwalker Redbush!”
Deep in the bowels of the palace, blissfully unaware of the furor in the north tower, a hooded and cloaked figure was poring over records from the time of the last rising of the dark, specifically the time of the internment of the Hazar. These records were ancient, the parchment brittle, the inks fading, and the language so different from modern Alvar that it was practically another language entirely. Still, progress had been made, uncovering hints in several old tomes that there was a key to unlocking the access portals to Ravenrock. The maddening issue, however, was a complete lack of any direct reference to what the key was, where it might be found, and how it could be used. The cloaked figure, straightening from his task, pushed his hood back, revealing a familiar streak of white in an otherwise brown head of hair. Farwalker Redbush pushed the latest volume back onto the shelf, and pulled yet another down to continue his research.
Farwalker had practically lived in the archives since ordering the evacuation of his forces from the Splitrock Knolls several weeks earlier. Finding nothing of use in the latest tome, and growling in disgust, Farwalker reached to shelve the latest volume when a scrap of parchment fell from the book as it was inserted back into its position. Spotting the movement out of the corner of his eye, Farwalker stooped and carefully reached for the fragment of parchment.
Placing it on the scribe’s desk he had been working from, he brought the candle a bit closer in an attempt to make sense of the faded script. While much of the text was faded beyond recognition, it was clear from the surviving text that the closure of Ravenrock had involved divine assistance from none other than Vindayin herself. ‘Hmmm,’ Farwalker reasoned, ‘Assistance from Vindayin is it? And what is this?’ Squinting at the last line of text, Farwalker was only able to make out one word, ‘Temple’, before a commotion outside the archives drew his attention.
Moving to the arched entrance to the archives, Farwalker was stunned to see troops in full battle gear, instead of their ceremonial uniforms, rushing to take up positions guarding access to the basement level. Striding down the corridor, Captains Aslief and Ieuan checked in with the detail commander, “Sergeant, no one is to be allowed in or out without the express permission of ourselves, Prince Aric, Lieutenant Riordan, or the king himself. If you spot Farwalker Redbush, he is to be arrested on sight by order of the king. He is to be taken, dead or alive, for treason. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly, sir!” the squad leader replied.
Silently cursing to himself, Farwalker realized that he had been discovered at last. Seeing Aslief and Ieuan approaching the archive entrance, he faded back into the archive towards a bolt hole he was glad to have established in the back of the archive: a new transfer portal linked directly to the fortified basement of his home in the city. Moving as silently as a ghost, the former chancellor made his way to the transfer portal and, with a link to his familiar for the energy required, bound the energy linking the two portals together just as Aslief and Ieuan caught sight of the hooded intruder.
The two officers rushed forward just as the cloaked figure vanished from the archive room. “A transfer portal!” Ieuan exclaimed, “Aslief, can you attempt to read our visitor’s destination from the portal’s residual energy signature, while I attempt to see what he was here for!”
Ieuan began scanning the rows of bookcases as Aslief knelt beside the unexpected portal. Holding his hands just above the portal’s surface, Aslief carefully opened his senses to the energies of the portal, searching for the portal’s mating location. Aslief was surprised to find that the location of other end of the link was not shielded, an indication this portal had been placed recently, and in some haste. Extending his senses to follow the residual energy, he was not overly surprised on discovering the other end of the link was, indeed, in the home of none other than Farwalker Redbush.
Aslief reached out and gathered in all the magical energy available to a master echelon sorcerer. The captain focused all this energy at the transfer portal, releasing it in one massive surge. As intended, the huge energy spike flooded the connection between the two portal locations, effectively destroying them both, and precluding anyone from ever using this particular link in the future. With a little luck, the energy backlash would severely damage Farwalker’s bolt hole. Suddenly exhausted, Aslief stood just as Ieuan ran up to him. “The portal led to Farwalker’s home in the city, Ieuan. It is destroyed, and no one will ever use this pair of portals again. Tell me, what was he looking for?”
Ieuan focused for a moment, before reaching out a hand to his friend, transferring a surge of energy to balance out what Aslief had just used to destroy this path into the palace. Seeing a bit of color returning to his friends face, Ieuan replied, “He was going through the records of the last rising of the dark. The last volumes he was looking at were from the period when the Hazar were sealed into their fortress at Ravenrock. I’ll give you one guess what he was looking for.”
Aslief concentrated a moment, “Information on how to remove the protections sealing Ravenrock?”
Ieuan nodded his agreement, “That is my guess as well. Come, my friend, the king needs to hear of this and we need to send a detachment of troops to Farwalker’s home to secure anything there. He might have left some significant clues in his haste to get away.”
Several hours later, Aslief and Ieuan rejoined the leadership of the two kingdoms in the north tower of the palace. As deliberations had been completed, the room had been reopened, and Marin, the palace seneschal, had resumed his solicitous care of the assembled leadership.
The two officers joined the other men, who had since been joined by Severra, High Priestess of Vindayin, and made themselves comfortable as the palace staff quickly prepared a platter of food for each officer, quickly followed with a goblet of fine Alvar chardonnay.
Dacian allowed the pair to eat in peace, knowing they had expended massive amounts of energy on his behalf this day. As the two officers handed their plates off to the waiting staff, he inquired, “Well, gentlemen, did you find anything of interest in your search of Farwalker’s former residence?”
Ieuan sipped at his wine before replying, “My lord, we didn’t find anything we wouldn’t expect, given what we discovered this morning. When Aslief destroyed the portal in the palace archive, the energy backlash destroyed pretty much everything in his basement bolt hole. Still, we can tell you that he disappeared on one of the half dozen portals he had in existence before the good Captain’s energy discharge destroyed them. The residual energy from his departure was obliterated, so we have no real idea where he went, but we could determine that he had a portal linking him with the orcs, the goblins, and the home in exile of the dark dragons: Santorin.”
As Ieuan paused to sip his wine, Aslief took up the narrative, “In short, your majesties, Redbush could be anywhere. He left and took his animal familiars with him. The backlash did a pretty effective job of destroying anything he might have had in the way of paper records, but we found a torture chamber in his basement, one that showed signs of recent use.”
Nodding his understanding, Dacian looked troubled at the prospect of hunting Farwalker down.
Aric then spoke up for the first time in hours, “What of that fawning bootlicker, Karn Roven?”
“There was no sign of him, highness. He must have escaped with Redbush,” Aslief answered.
“Mark me, I think we’ll find that Roven is far more dangerous than Redbush before this is finished. The man positively reeks of evil,” Aric replied. “Grandfather, we’ll need to get information out to every city in the kingdom about both of them, not just Redbush.”
Dacian nodded his agreement, “We must make sure their likeness is posted on every available surface in The Greenwood, along with a large reward for their capture. A man whose head is worth more to others than it is to himself is generally too busy dodging bounty hunters to stir up much trouble.” Glancing at his seneschal, Dacian continued, “Marin, will you see to it, please?”
Marin nodded that he would, before bowing and excusing himself to get wanted notices posted all over the kingdom. As the seneschal departed, Redtac turned and spoke to his heir, “Galus, my son, would you return to Brochfael and do the same? We need to do everything possible to make Redbush unwelcome in each of the eleven kingdoms.”
Returning his attention to his fellow monarch, Redtac continued, “Dacian, I would like to suggest that we each send emissaries to Kelandra, with missives to King Eloron of Kronar, requesting a general conference of the leaders of all eleven kingdoms, to be held as quickly as possible in Kelandra. If Redbush manages to free the Hazar, the free kingdoms will need to present a united front in order to contain their fury.”
Dacian replied, “I agree, Redtac. The sooner word is widespread about Redbush and his treason, the better chance we have of thwarting whatever mad scheme he is hatching. If he manages to free the Hazar, Vindayin help us all.”