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They entered the great hall, and walked toward the three steps leading up to the dais where the grand throne sat. The dais was covered by small tables with either food or papers upon them. Three attendants stood on either side of the dais, one one each step. Everything was breathtaking, but upon the huge golden throne sat the greatest image of all: King Melagno. He sat with an air about him that seemed to radiate royalty. He was the king of the realm Cassis. He had started as a landless noble after being exiled by the previous king. He had ideas about how to rule, ideas that could save thousands of lives from injustice and death. When the king died, Melagno saw his chance: he became king. The path he took to get there was questionable, but the good things he did as king far outweighed what he may have done as a young man. His brow now lay heavy with the current problems that now faced the realm. One was larger than anything that had ever happened before. That problem was the reason that the trio had been called to the castle. Melagno looked up, and spoke.
“Aha, my avenging angels have arrived. I have a job for you, and if you succeed, you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. To tell you the mission I have planned, I need to tell a sort of story, but a true one. Are you willing to hear me out?”
“Yes, Your Magesty,” they replied as one.
“Very well then, take a seat, and listen closely.
Another king once ruled the land west of this realm, King Thayar was his name, and he was a good king. He ruled Odines, the realm on the other side of the Wall of Kingdoms from Cassis. He had been good to his people, and everyone looked up to him. Then, something changed. He went for a foray into the Forbidden Realm, and came back a different man. He trusted no one anymore, and he murdered many of his closest advisers. When he started killing the peasants, and torching the fields, I took action. I rallied all the forces spread throughout this land, and drove King Thayar from his throne. I chased Thayar to the River Ebe, but Thayar managed to cross in a boat with his other evil allies before I could end his reign of terror for good. Now Thayar lived in the Forbidden Realm, and was rumored to have found an ancient castle from a civilization millenia ago, and was now settled in that. I left him there, thinking that he would not survive long, and even if he did, he had no forces to even attempt to recapture his land.
I was wrong. I have completely reliable sources now telling me that he has gained the help of some strange new civilization he found far west of here. He has taught them to fight, and to follow him. They number in the hundreds of thousands. There is no way I can hold this land away from a force like that, so I had to think of another way to win, a more simple way. You are my answer. You will go into the Forbidden Realm, and sneak into his castle. Then, it is very simple: you kill him and anyone who might lead the army of the Forbidden Realm in his name. Please, for the sake of the entire land, take this mission and do not fail!” The trio gathered together in a huddle to decide.
“We should not take this job, it goes into forbidden lands, to kill cursed kings. This is not our fight” whisper Briana vehemently.
“But it is our fight, Briana.” responded Glake. “If we do nothing then this Thayar will overtake poor Odines and probably Cassis too. At that point it won't matter if we go to him or he comes to us. We will, in both situations, be forced to deal with an evil king. What do you think Erican?”
“I think we should do it. If Thayar is killing innocent folk, I feel obligated to go kill him back.
“Alright, sorry Bre, but it's two to one. We go. If you need more convincing, go talk to Mr. King more about Thayar. I'm sure your hate of wrongdoers will appear soon after that.” said Glake.
“Fine, I will, but I doubt he'll change my mind,” and tramped off to make the arrangements with the attendants.
“Does that mean no?” asked Melagno anxiously.
“Actually, it means yes. Make the arrangements and contact us when your ready to discuss how we get to the forsaken land. We'll only do the infiltration and killing. Good day to you.”
They reached the shore, and the trio crept silently out. They pulled the boat up past where the seaweed marked the high tide, and tied it to a tree close to the shoreline.
“How will we find the boat again after we go into there?” asked Briana, pointing into the dense jungle.
“Easy,” responded Glake. “We get lucky. Or if we don't, Erican is told to be able to make a swell raft. He is rumored to make them so well, they even sometimes float!”
“Har har har. But seriously Bre, if we don't remember how to get back to this boat, we can find Thayar's harbor and steal one of those. But let us not worry, and rather make good time.” At this they all took one last look at the peaceful sea, and then set off into the jungle. It was very hot, and very humid. The trees reached high into the heavens, double the size of any trees any of them had ever seen before. The plants on the ground were also large, and the group had to make sure they never lost signt of each other, for if they did, they would surely be lost. The men that Melagno had sent along had been silent ever since they had, as if they were afraid that Thayar would be able to hear them. They came to a huge bush with enormous flower blossoms. Below the flowers hung huge fruit, about the size of Glakes head. They had a tangy smell, and they looked like they had just become ripe. A soldier walked towards them, and started to poke one with his sword. At the tiniest touch of the sword, the fruit exploded, sending fragments of its skin everywhere, but mostly spraying the sticky juice onto the poor soldier who had tapped it. The soldiers started to laugh at the him, but he just stood there, as if he was daydreaming. Another soldier walked up to him, but just before he could ask if he was alright, the sticky soldier sprinted away. Everyone ran after him, and found him about 200 meters away, laying on the ground. Just before another soldier was about to life the mans faceplate, which had fallen down in his run, Erican yelled “STOP!” The soldiers froze, and then slowly backed away. Erican lifted up a stick laying on the ground, and slowly tilted the faceplate back. Several of the soldiers turned around and threw up. Briana turned her face into Erican's arms, and sobbed. Erican and Glake just looked saddened, but they understood. His face was bloated, and by looking at the skin peaking out around his other armor, they guessed that the rest of his body was the same. A couple of seconds after the sun hit the man's face, a small plant poked out from under his skin, and it grew quickly. After about a inch had sprouted, one of the boils from the man's face unlatched from the rest of his body, and connected to the sprout. A small blossom appeared above it, and the soldiers realized what Erican and Glake had already known. It hadn't been fruit on that plant. It was the boils from another other poor animal, and this was the plant's method of seeding. The soldiers turned back to throw up the little that was left in their stomachs. By the time Glake and Erican had gathered up their remaining forces and started to leave the death ground, the plant was already three feet tall and had started to give off that nice tangy smell.
They reached a fork in the road: one would wind back to the castle, and the other would eventually lead out of the country. Erican knew that they had to split up, and they had to do it fast. The search party was closing in on them, and the river beside them was cutting off most of the exits.
“Glake! Get over here!” he whispered loudly. Glake bounded over.
“What? Did you hear something?”
“No, but they are getting closer, and we both know what will happen if they find us. We need to split up and we need to do it now. Briana and I will take the northern route, and try to sneak into the ancient castle that way. You stay here, or around here, and hide. As soon as they pass by, take out the last person and swap clothes. Go back the way they came, and for heaven's sake don't get caught!” With that Erican hoisted Briana up on his shoulder and ran lightly down the path ahead. Glake looked around and found a suitable tree: a large weeping willow with a lot of branches and a dense cover of flowers. He hoisted himself up until he was about 12 feet off the ground, and then settled down for a long and quiet wait.
Glake shivered as he huddled among the branches of the large willow. The coldness of the rain soaked into his skin, freezing him to the core. The search party was getting nearer, and he tried to breathe as little as possible: any sound could compromise his location. He had decided the best way to remain as silent as possible would be to concentrated on the large knot in the tree right in front of him, so when the giant man crept up behind him, he had no idea what hit him as the huge club bashed his head against the tree, and his world faded into murky blackness.
Glake woke in a small room, and immediately checked his clothes. The people who had captured him had changed his clothes, and along with his clothes, the various assortment of small daggers, lock picks, spare change, and much else, hidden throughout the fabrics, had disappeared. He got up, but sat back down again as an intense pain rolled toward his eyes, making him black out for a second or two. When the pain had receded he examined his surroundings from his bed. The room was very sparse, with only a few drapes hanging from the stone walls. Judging by the lack of windows, he assumed that he was not a guest. Going slowly to mind his head, Glake slowly rose up from the bed and walked over to the door: it was locked. He examined the lock, and saw that there was no chance he would have gotten out of the room, even with his lock picks; the lock was the most complicated he had ever seen, and it was a mix of a combination lock and a key lock, which, by the look of it, went in phases. A sudden series of clicks caused him to hurriedly back away from the door back onto his bed. The door swung open and a short fat man strode in, followed by a guard.
“You will never,” hissed the man, “see light again.”
Glake stared at the man mutely, wondering how a man so short and fat had ever made his way to. He decided to nickname him Shorty.
“Come with me,” Shorty said. When Glake made no movement to oblige, he made a flicking gesture to the guard. The guard winced and whispered, “Sorry” as he took out a small dagger (one of Glakes, as he later realized) and then dashed forward and stabbed into the center of Glakes palm. If he had not been concentrating on the small man, Glake would have been able to dodge the dagger easily, and quite possibly retrieve that dagger and all its brothers. As it was, Glake gasped and grabbed his palm. The pain, combined with the bruise on his head, forced Glake to keel over onto the floor as the small man laughed as if he was watching an jester. Shorty made another flicking gesture, and stalked out of the room.
“Sorry,” whispered the guard again, and he lifted up Glake and threw him over his shoulder.
As they marched down the hall, Glake took the time to look at his predicament. He was upside down over the shoulder of an overly sympathetic guard who was following an arrogant man who held Glake's life in his hands. He had no idea where he was, and no money for possible bribing. His lock picks had be removed, and he had a bruise on his forehead large enough to declare statehood. His few (but close) friends had no idea where he had gone, and probably had enough trouble on their own hands, and he had foolishly mentioned he would be gone “for a bit”.
The constant clip clap of the guards steel toed boots finally stopped, and Glake felt himself flying back over the guards shoulder to land on a (thankfully) well padded chair. Feeling another blackout coming, Glake gripped his knees and lowered his head.
“Finally seeing that I am far greater than you could ever hope to be?” asked Shorty with a cruel grin. Glake slowly raised his head, and stared into the eyes of his captor. The man met his gaze for a few seconds, then flinched and quickly looked away. The grin had disappeared. Glake glanced into the guards eyes, and grinned bitterly at the sight of the poor guard, who had probably never hurt a fly before in his life. The guard looked ashamed, and also quickly looked into his hands.
“Have you heard the latest news?” Shorty asked, obviously wanting to get on top of the situation again. “A man and a woman were captured trying to enter the palace.” He watched Glakes expression closely, seeing if what he said was cutting deep yet. “Of course, this could not be tolerated. They will be executed in the morn. Their names are Erican and Briana. Your friends, I believe?” At this Glake looked up and ground his teeth. “Yes,” sighed the man mockingly, delighted to find he had seemed to hit a nerve, “the poor people are to be burnt at the stake.” At this Glake could stand no more. He stood up, ignoring the blinding pain racking his skull. He spun on the ball of his heel, and roundhouse kicked the Shorty in the chest. He went flying backward, into the wall, and a loud crack rang out. All the guard got out was “Now just wha-” before he was lying face down on the ground with two daggers on either side of his throat and a knee between his shoulder blades.
“Don't make a sound, nor a single move. If I feel that you are going to become by downfall, you will never see the morn.” The guard stayed absolutely still. Glake hung his head, and the pressed a little deeper with the knives, and the guard fainted. Glake let out a sigh of relief, thankful that he did not have to hurt the guard: he seemed nice enough. Glake searched the guard, and was very please to find that besides the daggers, the guard held all the rest of his useful things that had to be in his pockets. Glake started to get up, but then reconsidered and squatted back down, and slipped of the guards arm plates and small chain-body. He slipped the armor on under his loose garments, and then stood up, and slipped into the dark hallways, away from the tower, to rescue his friends.
The prison was dark, and dirty. The rats scuttling across the wet stones make a sharp clipping sound. In the corner lay two ragged prisoners. One lay twitching, their hands and feet making random movements, the other made no movement at all.
Erican looked over at Briana, and wept. It was not her fault she had been dragged along. She had never wanted to help carry out this plan, but he had insisted. If he had only allowed her to stay behind... but it was to late now. The were doomed to die in the morn, and unless Glake could somehow... but no, he had enough to handle saving himself, and getting the job done. Suddenly, a click rang out through the cell. The door opened, and two guards rushed in, swords drawn. A tall handsome man strode in, a long black cape gracing the air behind him. He was a man who knew no kindness or compassion, who's soul had been driven out as a child by mistreatment and pain. The man was King Thayer, the ruler of the evil realm in which they resided.
“Thayar!” croaked out Erican, “You miserable dog!”
“First of all, it's 'Your Majesty Thayar', or 'King Thayar' to anyone lower than an emperor, and second, should I not be the one giving insults? After all, it was you who broke into my castle, not the other way around, eh?” responded the black king.
“You do not deserve to be known as a king!” cried out a disembodied voice. Everyone jumped at this, and looked around for the source. It was Briana. She rose up and stood as close to the king as her chains would allow her. “You torture and butcher your subjects, and kill anyone who doesn't agree with you! You let you knights run wild, and allow them to take what they please, as long as they don't take from you!” Briana had started out strong, but by now she was sobbing, yet she continued on. “You care not for your people or your land, but only for yourself! You poison your servants food just to watch them squirm as they die slowly at your feet! All your vassals are not poor because your land does not have enough to support them, but because you steal and lie to greaten your own personal sense of power!” She had been getting louder and louder until at this point she was screaming. “Your dungeon is empty besides for us not because there is no crime, but because your entire realm is punishment enough to fit any misdeed!”
Deafening silence suddenly ruled the small chamber, and Briana collapsed into an shaking heap on the ground. Erican rushed over to comfort her. King Thayar looked astonished, his eyes wide and mouth agape. The guards were just as speechless. The litany of accusations from the person who had just moments ago appeared asleep or even dead seemed to take everyone in hearing distance completely by surprise.
“I... I do not such things... I would never harm anyone...” Thayar stammered out.
“Then why are we here?” responded Erican, looking up from Briana. “What are you going to do with us, if not harm us? We are locked in your dungeon, and we were hunted down like common animals on our way here. Who did that, if not you? Who ordered that we be captured, when you didn't even know why we were here yet? Who, but you? You are no better than Briana says.”
“What?” asked Thayar, incredulous, “I ordered no manhunt. And I didn't know you were here until you tried to sneak into this castle with the intention of killing me! Why would I even be talking to you if I was all she said I was? Wouldn't I be, oh, off killing some innocent folk?”
“You're the King of this godforsaken land! You are the one in control! No one does anything if you don't order it. You are a lying dog, and you are all Briana says you are as well!” yelled Erican.
“I! You! I would never! I did none of those things! I will get to the bottom of this, and you shall see I am not a dying dog, or a lying log, or what ever you said!” yelled back Thayar. He stormed out of the room, muttering, “Why do I even care? They were going to try and kill me! Lying... stealing... I do not! I would never...” and then he was out of the room, and his voice faded out. The guards stood for a second longer, scared and impressed by the yelling match that had just occurred between their king and an apparent peasant, and then marched out the door, slamming it shut behind them. Erican lifted Briana up and brought her back to the wall where they had lain before the king came. “Rest now,” he whispered, and then explored his prison.
Glake was lost. He was not worried, however, but he was very lost. He had started off down the tower, which was uneventful, but as soon as he had taken a turn and ended up in a bathroom, he knew he was not where he thought he should have been. All castle were the same, weren't they? Of course, Glake had only ever been in one, Melagno's, but why couldn't the dratted stone fortresses be the same design? Alas, I have no choice, and only one path will get me where I needed to go in sufficient time. I need to find and subdue a servant or guard, and have them lead me. Now, to find the hired help (a small payment will probably subdue the person for me), I will need to go to a main area... such as the main dinning hall! Now the main dinning hall would need to be near the center of the castle, for protection. So I should find two windows, and then go away from them, simple! After this thought process, he took off, leaving only the spiders to wonder. He quickly found two windows, but with them came a search party of guards. Obviously Shorty had awoken, and sounded an alarm. That man was becoming a liability, and would soon have to be taken care of. He ducked down behind a small statue and prayed to all the gods he could think of. He had only mentioned three, and currently praying to Costis, the god of guards (ironically) before a guard spotted him, and yelled a quick “There he is!” to his fellow guards and ran towards him. Glake stopped his praying, and emptied his mind. The world seemed to slow down, and the guards seemed to stop their yelling. He closed his eyes for three seconds that seemed to stretch into eternity. The he opened his eyes, and his hands moved to his sides. A knife appeared between every finger, three per hand. He raised his deadly fists and his eyes flashed. Seven seconds after the guard had yelled out, the guards had reached him. The clang of metal against metal rang out, and Glake became a whirlwind of flashing steel. Glake fought well, but when one guard fell, another came to take his place, and Glake wouldn't be able to keep this level of fighting up for long. Luckily Glake had had the foresight to put on the small armor stolen from the guard, or else he would have become piecemeal. It also added an element of surprise as Glake began to block the sword blows with his arms, which appeared to be clad only in a light cotton shirt. At last seven of the ten guards had fallen under Glakes deadly fists, or from mis-strikes of their comrades, and only the best three remained. They circled him, slowly moving around him counter-clockwise. One behind him slashed in with his sword, but Glake heard the armor shift as his arm swung, and ducked just in time, spinning on his heel, and knocked the guards knees out from under him, causing him to fall on his arm crookedly, and a cracking sound occurred with an accompaniment of a scream. Suddenly a voice yelled “STOP!”, and the guards fell to their knees. Glake warily looked up to see a tall handsome man wearing a sleek cape, and an embroidery of a single lit candle graced his black tunic.
“Thayar... you miserable pig.” hissed Glake, and without a single muscle twitch beforehand, he leapt at Thayar with a small dagger clutched in his hand. Thayar didn't even have time to blink before Glake had stabbed him in the upper left shoulder, just above the heart.
“Ocion curse it, the heart not the shoulder!” he yelled before the two guards sprang up and grabbed his arms. They forced him to the ground in front of the swearing Thayar.
“Take him... ahh! to the dungeon... damn it! to join his apparent friends! Make sure they cannot OW! reach...each other.” Thayar gasped out.