Chapter 6. He entered and closed the door behind him. ‘Magnificent.’ Power said with a wicked grin on his partly shaven face. Ice was sitting on the end of Power’s bed. ‘It was wasn’t it.’ she winked. ‘You fooled him good.’ Power began to feed Trahal the food he brought with him from the dining room. ‘And not only that, I think we’ve got his undivided help in our matters.’ she added. ‘We’ll be able to get horses and supplies from him, not to mention protection from the occasional soldier.’ ‘And we can leave as soon as this dreaded rain subsides.’ Power quickly finished up his painstaking job of feeding the Emperor, and, as Ice departed, rugged up and got settled for bed. ‘We’re lucky that I got caught up with that woman.’ Power said to the Emperor, not expecting a response, blowing out his candle. ‘If it weren’t for her, I don’t think I’d even be here. I’m not that bright. I wonder - ’ It was only faint, but he was sure that he could here the sound of muffled breathing coming from somewhere above him, or around him. It seemed to come from all over the place. A vicious scent of evil was felt as the heavy, but noiseless breathing continued. It seemed to get louder as Power felt the warm surge of adrenalin pumping through his veins. Then with a long sigh, any traces of the being were gone. Power had been holding his breath in sheer terror, and gave a loud sigh, releasing the tight grip from his dagger hilts. There was a light tap as Power’s door swung quietly open. A small candle in a holder flickered away some traces of the shadows, but left other traces dancing playfully in the corners of the room. Ice had entered with wild eye’s and her curved dagger in hand. ‘Did you hear it too?’ Power asked sitting up to meet her. Ice nodded, closing the door. ‘What was it?’ ‘I’m not so sure. All I heard was it’s breathing, and even that was enough to scare me half to death. It was pure evil that’s for sure. I could feel it, and I can guarantee you, that it wasn’t friendly.’ Ice sighed a fearful lightly breathe. ‘Well, as long as it doesn’t hurt us, we’ll be okay.’ Power looked full into her milky white face. ‘I can see that you’re quite shaken up by this. How about you sleep in here until you regain your nerves.’ ‘Could I?’ Ice said, hopefully. Power allowed Ice to sleep in his bed for the night whilst he himself took to the floor, stealing several of the Emperors blankets. ‘Good night.’ Power wished her. But she was already fast asleep. * * * ‘Well if I had of know, I would have set you two a bigger sized bed.’ It was Opawa. He shook Power awake, informing them of the pre - prepared morning meal. The rain had ceased, though the gloomy cloud cover persisted. The wind again picked up again to form an icy chill within the valley. Power rubbed his eyes ‘Do you want me to wake up the little lady as well?’ Opawa, looking at Ice, said. ‘Go ahead.’ Opawa gently shook Ice awake and then made a failed attempt to rise the Emperor. Once more, they entered the dinning room. Ice had apparently recovered from her previous nights fit of sadness and was now as perky normal. Power looked around the room as he awaited the foods arrival. The high wooden roof was held in place by intricately curved arches that were creatively draped with the same light maroon as the curtained windows. The fireplace that gave the room warmth was carved out of what looked like marble, and a mantle piece held nothing more than dust. Several doors lined each of the side walls and were for some reason, always kept shut unless someone entered or exited. One lead - lighted window allowed what light the sun could offer, to enter, gleaming and sparkling off rare shields and swords and other various military weapons, that hung just above them. ‘The rain’s stopped.’ Trast noted as their steaming meals were brought to the tables. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’ Ice said with wide eye’s as she brooded over her food. ‘I suppose you’ll be leaving soon?’ ‘Afraid so. We’ll be heading South - West, more towards Orem.’ Power cursed quietly to himself. Ice seemed to of noticed, but didn’t show any signs of reaction. ‘Last night I was just reflecting over your words.’ Trast said, ‘Even before you had come along, I had despised the Emperor and all that he was worth. So I am willing to help you - no charge.’ ‘Really.’ Ice said with a warm smile. ‘That’s great.’ ‘No trouble at all. Last night, I sent word to Elibom, the chief of my operations, to come along here with a few of our agents. Their cases have been suspended. Soon they shall arrive here and they’ll be able to escort you to the destination you chose. They’re quite capable of fighting off any of the Emperor’s men. Also, I’ll provide you with horses and supplies for your journeys beyond.’ ‘Is there any way possible that we’d be able to repay you?’ Ice asked ‘There is one thing.’ ‘Oh?’ ‘Just your gentle kiss is all that I wish of you.’ It was an inexpensive wish Ice was prepared to pay. It took Trast quite by surprise. Ice ran over to the other side of the table, swung her arms around his neck and gave him a tender kiss, flush on the lips. ‘I think I ought to help you more often.’ Trast said, straightening up his shirt. ‘You don’t need a kiss from me do you?’ Power asked, ‘It would be hard to follow up an act like that.’ Trast stared at him for a moment, then broke out into laugher as the warriors words hit him. * * * Trast’s faithful men eventually arrived. The group consisted of about forty men with their horses and various weapons from alien and local districts. The band was led by a thin, black - bearded man in his mid twenties. His jolly red cheeks showed signs of a continuously good time, and his supply sacks were hangers of various bottles of wines, beer, and ale. ‘Meet Elibom,’ Trast introduced, ‘chief supervisor of the Backwoods Criminal Corporation.’ Elibom attempted an unsteady bow in his saddle. ‘And whom have I have the pleasure of travelling with sir?’ ‘This is Granae of Oiy.’ Trast said, pointing to Power, ‘His friend on his shoulder is Trahal of Rabur, and this lovely lady beside them is A.J of Mlana.’ Elibom gave each a nice long stare - Ice’s, the longest of them all. ‘What’s wrong with your friend their?’ He pointed to Trahal. ‘Side affects of a big hang over I suppose you’d call it.’ Ice said in her crackled voice. ‘Well, I’m not terrible good with farewells,’ Trast, with a tired look, said. ‘but I should think it about time for you to get moving. The Emperor’s soldier’s would be pretty close behind you, you know, and it probably would be best if you kept as much distance between you and them as possible. Have a good trip.’ Opawa waltzed out of the house with a bag of his personal belongings dangling over his shoulder. He looked about ready to go somewhere. ‘Where do you think your going?’ Trast demanded of his son. ‘You promised last time that I could ride along with Elibom the next time he came here, to start on my training.’ Opawa said, facing his father. ‘Not any more you aren’t.’ his father suddenly said. ‘Not after what happened the day before.’ ‘But -’ ‘But nothing. Your going to stay here and help me run this place. Until you have proven to me that you are capable of running my business - any business - your going to stay here with me. Opawa went back into the house to sulk over his premature enslavement. Their trip went off without a hitch. The forty odd men, surrounded the three travellers with Elibom riding in stride beside Ice. A jealousy arose, in Power’s mind, with the harmless flirtation that his partner and the corporation leader experienced - although he chose not to believe it. In turn, they complimented each other on fashion, style - anything that was admirable. The big man just ignored them and felt sorry for himself, unnoticeable easing amongst the other agents that protected them, seeking company there. The peaceful country side rolled by them, the occasional hill jutting out of the earth every now and then. The wildlife playfully ran out in front of the horses every so often, and flocks of birds of many species flew freely overhead. The track they were following was hardly ever used, with it’s path etched into the ground much like that of a the path grazing cattle usually leave behind. Different kinds of crops dotted the area beside the weaving track, with the sporadic work horse beaten hard by over paid farmers. They set up camp before sunset, then ate their repast over songs and joyous entertainment. Power retired for the night before anyone else did. He felt he didn’t fit in. Surprisingly, Ice came in after him just after he had got himself comfortable. ‘Why the long face?’ Ice puffed at him, still trying to recover from her playful dancing minutes before. ‘I’m just tiered.’ Power deliberately turned his back on her. ‘No your not. I saw the way you were acting. Trust me, there is nothing going on between me and Elibom.’ ‘Is this the reason you came in here? Because I would like to get some sleep.’ Ice squinted in suspicion. ‘You can’t dismiss me that easily.’ ‘Get to the point then.’ ‘Well, this morning over breakfast, I heard you curse at something and I just came in here to ask you before you fell asleep.’ There was a long pause. ‘Well?’ ‘Well what?’ ‘What did you curse at over breakfast this morning?’ Her voice had an annoyed edge to it. ‘Do you remember what you said?’ ‘Not all of it.’ ‘Let me remind you. As I recall you explained to Trast that we were going South - West, more towards Orem. You just basically went and told the whole world where we were going.’ Ice sat down beside him. ‘Sorry. It was just that I hadn’t had a breakfast like that in a while.’ ‘Its a bit late for that.’ ‘Don’t be silly. Trast knows how to keep a secret.’ ‘Maybe so, but a person with information can always, easily be tortured. And know Trast can keep a secret, but spies can’t. Almost every rich man has spies in hiding places all over their house. From the servants to even people hiding in walls.’ ‘Can’t we just change coarse?’ ‘Not very likely. I asked Elibom some questions over lunch when you parted from him for a little while, and he said that he was headed to Orem - despite us - to speak with the person who runs the business in that city. He even sent out a message ahead of us, telling him our approximate arrival time. They aren’t going to change directions just for us. Also, we can’t really go any where without them for the first couple of weeks until our enemies finally come to the decision of weather or not to elect a new Emperor or to keep searching. We want to hold out until they decided to elect a new Emperor, but we’ll still have a price on our heads. In the mean time though, we’re involved in a national affair. Every kings army will be searching for us until they get word to call it off. Without Elibom and his men, we may as well start digging our own graves because with out that protection, we’re as good as dead. So that means that we’ll have people waiting for us in Orem, people behind us, and people searching for us all over the place. We have whole armies on our backs. In a way, we’re cornered, and we’ve trapped ourselves because our only means of escaping that castle was to kidnap the Emperor.’ Ice paused. ‘I see.’ ‘All we can do now is to stand and fight.’ Ice’s eye’s were raised to the top of the tent in thought. ‘Let me ponder it for a little while. I’m sure we can come up with something. Meanwhile, Elibom said that they are one less of a tent. Do you mind if I bunk with you?’ ‘What’s wrong with Trahal’s quarters?’ ‘He’s already in with somebody else. They haven’t heard a peep out of him.’ Power rolled over again to face his lovely accomplice, dismissing any feelings of jealousy that he had previously felt. ‘Fine.’ ‘Thanks.’ she said with a squinted smile as she turned and left the pavilion. Power smirked quietly to himself, congratulating him of on his sudden income. * * * They rose early next morning, quickly packing their gear and setting off towards their intended destination before day break. Ice and Elibom, to Power’s relief, had relinquished their over - friendliness toward each other, but instead, talked quietly to each other, mainly about business. ‘So how did the name “Backwoods Criminal Corporation” become of age?’ Power asked, suddenly interested in the account Elibom was telling them. ‘Well, that was where the business first started.’ he replied. ‘About five generations ago, a man by the name of Hefro had gotten sick and tired of continually being robed of his goods. The Backwoods Criminal Corporation was formed by the wealthy that were in exactly the same situation. After a couple of years, they had rounded up all the criminals in Backwoods, the name of the village. Everyone thought they were doing a real good job and joined their band. Then they set up businesses in other high - criminal - rate cities and recruited many other foreigners from else where. Now, it’s a world wide business.’ ‘Just like a police force.’ Power added. Elibom nodded his agreement. ‘The business has always been kept in the family, and the profit left over after each lifetime is passed on down to the next in line to sort of help him out a bit if he’s in any trouble. Every generation, that profit doubles and more and more money is being put into the business. We usually spend that money on more men and supplies. We’re always looking for more men to recruit because for some reason, the more men we have, the more criminals there seems to be.’ ‘Are you in any way connected to this famous line that you speak of?’ ‘I’m Trast’s late born brother. I’ll inherit the next generation’s worth of money and take over the business as soon as Trast dies. I’m afraid it would be sooner than some may think.’ ‘What about Opawa. He seems to think he’s the next inheritance?’ ‘He’s incompetent. Beside’s that, he was my brother’s grandson, and once Trast had seen Opawa’s capabilities, he just didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t going to be the next owner. Trast knew that I would be, so that’s why I’m waiting in the position of chief.’ ‘How do you make a profit out of capturing criminals?’ ‘Criminals usually have prices on their heads. Usual criminals with offences towards anything imperial or anything with a high rank, has a nice little profit sitting just above his ears. Royalty usually pays good money for the capture and execution of these criminals.’ ‘But isn’t execution the same as murder?’ ‘No. It’s for a good cause of our own.’ ‘But when a criminal decides to kill someone, it’s usually for a good cause of their own. Then that would be called an execution and their rank as criminal shouldn’t exist.’ ‘Yes but...but...I never thought of that I guess.’ he admitted. ‘Just don’t go telling that to anybody. Criminals could use that as their own little safe guard. ‘Why do people commit offences if they know that they’ll have to face up to the likes of your men?’ Ice questioned. ‘Challenge. It’s usually juveniles looking for a good time that create this crimes. They get a thrill out of trying to evade us.’ ‘You people are well known then.’ ‘We basically run the cities where ever our business is established. Usually when we give orders, people will follow them, because they have high respect for the work that we do.’ ‘How many men all up?’ ‘The bulk of all our forces combined would probably outnumber many armies put together.’ ‘Maybe you should have brought them along instead.’ Power said with a little chuckle. They rode the rest of the week out in fine conditions. The clear skies held, and the temperature behaved itself. It wasn’t until the second week of travel that they encountered the usual rain that seemed to welcome them to civilisation. The gloom around them showed in the faces of the locals of Orem. Workers fought to make their daily earnings with absolutely now hope in their spirit’s at all. Beggars with their shaggy cloaks rapped around them, flutter in the pounding drizzle. One such man collapsed in front of the criminal - busting group, laying face down in the muddy cobble stones, his exhaustion setting in. Elibom reach deep into his pockets and pulled out a coin. ‘Here.’ he said, dropping the coin in front of him. They continued onward. They turned down a street that was over looked by a towering church that had aged and decayed quite a bit. Eventually, they dismounted in a well kept courtyard just off the street, that consisted of two main gates with a fence between them, and a semi - circular patch of grass lined with a three meter wide path leading from one gate to the other. ‘Come in, come in.’ a rather stout man urged to Elibom and his companions. The other forty men cursed loudly at their leader as they were instructed to keep their mounts company in the stables. ‘Bad timing.’ the stout man said, closing the door with some effort. ‘You have just come during the worst of the storm.’ ‘It’s good to see you again, Yalon.’ Elibom said, wringing the water out of his over grown black beard. ‘This here is A.J, Granae and Trahal.’ They each - except for Trahal, nodded their hello’s in turn as they were introduced. ‘You have a lovely place here.’ Power complimented. ‘I see that the street is over looked by a church.’ ‘Yes,’ Yalon said, ‘it’s been there longer than I have. It’s said that it was here even before the city was.’ ‘So the building is what you may call, “ancient”?’ ‘Indeed.’ ‘What are the doors made out of?’ Yalon stared at him for a little. ‘I won’t bother asking why you questioned me of that. But if you must know, the doors are made of silver.’ ‘Ah.’ ‘Granae here, is a black - smith.’ Elibom said, clearing up Yalon’s curious thoughts. ‘He told me along the journey that he had an interest in primitive weaponry and things ancient to do with metal and brass and so forth.’ Yalon let out a long sigh. ‘For a moment there, I’d thought that you’d gone quite mad. No offence intended. ‘None taken.’ he replied. ‘I’d expect that church to have a crypt.’ ‘And a haunted one at that. No one dares enter that church three hours past sunset. Even the local priest closes and locks that thing up and retreats to his personal quarters.’ ‘What time would you make it now?’ ‘About two hours before sunset, I’d imagine.’ ‘Thanks for that.’ Power and Ice along with Trahal, retired for the day early, whilst Elibom and Yalon discussed matters of much urgency. A little pout with puppy - dog eyes, granted Ice the chance to spend the night in Power’s room once more. ‘Is it my overwhelming strength or my dashing good looks, that makes you want to jump into bed with me?’ Power said with a grin as they looked out the window at the rain splattered streets. ‘No pun intended.’ he added. She began to cackle loudly. ‘So what are you up to?’ she questioned as her laughter died down?’ ‘What are you talking about.’ ‘Don’t play coy with me. I know that your up to something. Why did you all of a sudden want to know about that church.’ ‘Just out of interest.’ She eyed him playfully. ‘You can’t fool me. I know that your lying?’ ‘Well, I think we have a problem - or had a problem.’ Power explained turning away from the window. ‘Trahal’s been unconscious now for quite some time, and I think if we leave it any longer, our other companies are going to get dubious.’ ‘What -’ ‘Move away from the window when you speak.’ he interrupted. ‘Just for safety. Let’s keep this as low key as we possibly can.’ ‘Okay.’ She shifted. ‘What’s that got to do with the church?’ ‘Well, Trahal’s been unconscious for quite some time now - as I said before - and our companions are bound to become suspicious after a while. So, I was thinking if we stage his death, we won’t have to worry about him any more. But, we aren’t really going to kill him.’ ‘I see. So what do you have in mind?’ ‘I was planning to lock him in the crypt.’ ‘But we can’t do that. You heard what Yalon said earlier. That crypt’s haunted.’ ‘That’s just a chance we’ll have to take. If we go there just before it closes, we can drop off his body, and come running back here to tell our hosts that he’d been killed.’ ‘What’s our excuse for going to the church?’ ‘We could just tell them that we’re going there to pray for Trahal’s awakening.’ ‘Well that part’s okay. But we’re not going to get anywhere near that crypt with that priest around. Not to mention the public that may be lingering.’ ‘That’s why we’re going to wait just a couple of minutes before he closes. You can be our distraction. Just tell him that you want a counsel with him and talk as long as possible - things that have happened in the past, worries for the future, that kind of stuff. Keep doing that until I give you a signal.’ ‘But won’t Trahal die in that crypt? He hasn’t got any one to feed him.’ ‘Well, your the one who put him to sleep, so I’d expect you to be able to wake him up again. We’ll wake him up once he’s in there, plus we’ll leave a torch and enough food to last him until someone has the guts to let him out.’ Ice thought it over for a while. ‘Nice plan. But let’s go over it one more time to make sure that we haven’t left out any details. We say to our host that we’re going over to the church to pray for Trahal’s awakening, and we go there just minutes before it closes. Then, I ask the priest if I’d be able to have a counsel with him whilst you, with Trahal and the torch and food go search for the crypt. You dump the old guy give me a signal. Then, I re - awaken him and come back here, yellinng in hysteria that Trahal had been murdered. There’s one flaw to the plan though.’ ‘What’s that?’ ‘What if they ask for the where abouts of his body?’ ‘We’ll just say that we were ambushed. We’ll make it the Trahal was taken into a an alley, and killed, and that all we could find was blood. That way, if they don’t find blood, we can say the rain simply washed it all away.’ ‘Poor Trahal. I’d hate to be in his shoes when he finds out that the crypt’s haunted.’ ‘It’s probably just local superstition. But if it is, it’s the least that we owe him for what he did to us.’ ‘Here, here.’ Everything went according to plan. Their story was believed foolishly. Yalon offered an escort, but the pair resisted. They reached the church in front of their schedule and waited a couple of minutes in the still driving rain until the right time. As they entered, a family consisting of a husband, wife and two children, were hassling the priest for any spare change he had and even maybe, a free feed. ‘What are we going to do about them?’ Ice said with a pained look. She had been carrying the food and the torch while Power was lugging Trahal easily beside her. ‘We could always bribe them.’ Power replied after a moments thought about their un - accounted situation. ‘And how do you propose to do that?’ ‘Well look at them. Their asking the priest for money. So that’s what we’ll give them. Money. Once they’ve got money in their hands, they’ll go off to the nearest thing open to have a feed.’ ‘Don’t expect me to pay then.’ Ice smiled at him. ‘I wouldn’t expect you to.’ Power reached inside his pockets to pull out a fair sized pouch of change. ‘Here you go my friends.’ he said, giving them the whole sac. ‘Oh,’ the father said with a shock. Eventually, it hit him. ‘Oh, thank - you, thank - you so much. God bless you, God bless you.’ They backed out of the church, bowing their thanks with each step until they were gone. ‘Thanks’ the priest simply said. ‘What brings you to the church this late at night, my son?’ ‘Me and my partner just got here,’ Power began, ‘along with this fellow sitting on my shoulder. He’s been unconscious for quite a while now and we just came here to pray for his health.’ ‘Have you ever cared to see a physician?’ ‘We have, but none have ever been able to tell us what’s wrong.’ ‘Let me have a look at him.’ The clean shaven man jostled around a bit to get a better look. Power quickly jerk himself around to face him yet again. ‘No. It wouldn’t be wise. He’d surely make you nauseous.’ ‘Surely he’s not that bad?’ ‘He’s more horrifying than your local ghosts in that crypt of yours.’ ‘Fine. I’ll leave you alone to pray.’ ‘Wait.’ Ice caught the priest before he left. ‘I have sinned much over our journey here, and I am feeling rather filthy. Might I be able to seek guidance of you?’ ‘My pleasure. Come.’ he motioned for her to follow. ‘Good luck.’ Ice quietly wished The church, Power noticed, was quite a bit younger than what it’s external side provided. The tall ceiling was vaulted by large, circular columns of marble that were placed at intervals along it’s sides just outside the ambulatory, with a high arch between each. The arches held banners that dangled decoratively past them, and it’s colours ranged from the most dull to the most aesthetic in the colour spectrum. To add to it’s grace, huge lead - lighted windows had been placed so as to create one vast wall of it’s own. It had been patched and replace many times over the centuries after vicious and stupid attacks had damaged it. The roof arched at the top, with paintings of various Gods of all cultures portrayed to make every race welcome, given the church an agnostic feeling to it. Each God looked as pretty as the other. They had all been painted into one big picture with foreground and background landscapes. It was the altar, how ever, that let the atmosphere down. It was made of a roughly carved limestone block with matching legs. It was un - draped and lifeless, and candles were unknown to it - unlike other places of the room where candles stood together by the score. Power cautiously made his way down a hallway behind the altar, making sure to watch his back, making as little noise as possible. With the food and torch, along with the Emperor over his shoulders, it would be hard to draw a dagger if need be. He passed several closed doorways, but decided to search them last. Soon he came across an open stairway that spiralled downward to the right. A pair of torches lit the doorway at the bottom and the words “alyam nari polis”, meaning “the hall of the past” - “past” meaning “dead” - were written on it. An icy chill ran up his back. The bed time stories of ghosts playing on his mind. ‘Okay,’ he quietly reassured, ‘there’s nothing to worry about. They’re only local superstitions. There will be no ghost.’ With his hand on the door knob, he braced himself for the worst. Tugging open the door, an ancient squeal from the hinges repartitioned around him as the thick steel swung outwards. The only thing that jumped out at him was a cold, moist breeze that had built itself up over the eons. He felt unfamiliarly at peace with himself. This so called ‘haunted’ crypt was nothing more than a lonely room that housed carcasses. He was sure that he had stumbled upon an adytum of some kind. The rumours of the alarmed locals had condemned this crypt to being a living house of horror instead of a peaceful burial home. Quickly, he entered and placed the Emperor and the food and torch on the floor and turned on his heel and left. A sudden relief overcame him. Quickly, he childishly sprinted back to the main church area. Lightly, he intervened Ice’s council by rapping on the door. Ice came out of the confined room with a “Thank - you, Father” as she closed the door. ‘What took you so long?’ she asked, wiping the sweat from he brow. ‘I almost spilled the beans on our plot. He was such a nice man, that priest.’ ‘Well I didn’t see you volunteering to go down into that crypt.’ ‘Your much stronger than me.’ Power concealed a grin from her. ‘What’s so funny?’ ‘Nothing. Just wake Trahal and lets get on our way. I’m starving.’ She went about her business as they left. ‘So what is it with you and that thing you do to control people?’ Power questioned as they walked back down the street. ‘I study the ancient art of Oneiromancy.’ Ice said, answering Power’s question. ‘A modified version of it, anyway. The study of Oneiromancy is confined to a place called The Blood Caverns in South - Eastern Histaus and it’s a secret study that not many have heard of.’ ‘If so few know about it, how did you become involved?’ ‘As an infant, I was found flaying about in the long grass not far from there by one of the students. My parents had dumped me there. So taking matters into their own hands, I was brought up in there environment. ‘Is that why you are called Ice the Sleeper?’ * * *