Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series Read online

  Mikela and her two escorts reached the council rather quickly, as they had been in the magical shops which were close to the council building. She had never visited it before, and craned her neck looking up as they walked toward the entrance. The three story building had been nice once, but that time had passed a long time ago. Artists had drawn pictures and written words in the stone that made up the outside of the building, but time had worn them almost smooth. All around the building was an open area, the nearest buildings being a fair distance away. She was not surprised by this though; most people were not overly fond of magicians and tried to keep their distance.

  Guards were standing on either side of the entrance as they passed, but they gave no indication that they had noticed the newcomers.

  They stepped through the curved arch entrance into a small open air courtyard. There were some benches placed amongst the shrubs and trees of the courtyard, and an old man moved slowly pruning the bushes.

  Her escorts hardly seemed to notice the old man, but instead urged her through the double doors at the opposite end of the courtyard. The fairer guard walked in front, leading the way, while the second guard trailed along behind. Nervousness and apprehension grew with every step, and she felt less like a hero and more like a prisoner.

  Her escorts led her through the strange interior of the building. On the outside, it had looked shabby and rundown, but the interior was anything but. The floors had the most exquisite patterns in the expensive looking tile that covered them. The walls varied from stark stone to the most beautiful wood coverings that Mikela had ever seen. Beautiful tapestries covered the walls, while light streamed from no apparent source. She caught glimpses through several open doorways into the rooms beyond, where magicians went about their daily tasks.

  They walked up two flights of stairs and entered a large square waiting room. Several benches and chairs were arranged around the room, and Mikela sat down and waited, while one of the guards disappeared through a doorway on the far wall.

  At first she had thought they were calling her here to congratulate her, but that thought was a distant memory now. The trip here had seemed more like a funeral procession than a triumphant parade. What did they want with her? Her nervousness growing, she had to force herself to stop twisting her hands together. However, shortly after each time she stopped, she would look down and notice that she was twisting them again. Finally, she slid her left hand under one leg and her right hand under the other leg.

  It seemed like an eternity, but she was sure that it had only been several minutes, when the guard reemerged from the door.

  He motioned back over his shoulder, “The council will see you now.”

  Steeling herself, she stood and walked smoothly through the open door.

  Mikela found herself in a dimly light hallway that was short and ended in another doorway. The far door was standing open, and she barely slowed as she strode through.

  The sunlight was almost blinding as she entered the circular room. It was a large room, easily able to hold fifteen to twenty people. Across from the entrance was a table in the shape of a half-circle sitting on a raised platform. Seven men and two women sat behind the table, watching Mikela as she entered. They watched her calmly as she walked slowly to the middle of the room, directly in front of the raised table.

  “Hello. I'm Mikela Shaltin, and I was summoned to appear before this council.” She was proud to note that her voice was strong and steady.

  “Yes, and thank you for coming so promptly,” A voice called softly.

  It took Mikela a moment to realize who had spoken, but then she noticed the man directly in the middle of the nine council members. He was an old man, and that was being generous to him. He was almost bald but with little short white hairs that stuck up in odd places on his head. In fact, there were more age spots on his head than there was hair. He had the look of someone who is always squinting, and deep wrinkles lined his face and hands.

  “My name is Algin and I am the head of the council.” He paused and looked her over, “You are, of course, familiar with us?”

  “I am familiar with the Magi council in general, but not this one in particular.” Mikela answered. “I'm not from Telur.”

  The old man smiled at her and his manner reminded her of a grandfather. “Of course, you went to the Doe-Rushkin academy, didn't you?” Mikela opened her mouth to answer, but the old man kept on talking. “The Doe-Rushkin academy is a fine school, although not too many of the magicians in Telur went there.”

  The old man stopped talking leaving an uncomfortable silence. Had she missed something? Were they waiting for her to say something?

  A thin man who was sitting two seats to the left of Algin leaned forward and said, “Sir, uhh, the business at hand?”

  Algin seemed momentarily confused, but he recovered quickly. “Oh yes.” He leaned back in his chair before speaking, “We have summoned you here for a very important reason. We would like to ask some questions about the events at Fort Mul-Dune.”

  Mikela was confused, “The events at the fort? What questions can I answer for you?”

  The thin man leaned forward and picked up several pieces of paper off of the table. “We would like to know if anything unusual happened.” He spoke in a harsh tone that seemed more like he was commanding a servant.

  Mikela stared at him for a moment. Anything unusual? '“What do you mean by unusual?” She asked, unsure of what the man wanted to know.

  The thin man crossed his hands on the table. “Well the question was fairly straight forward. Did anything unusual happen while you were there?”

  She could feel her face getting hot, anger from the man's attitude was raising her temper. She crossed her arms across her chest. “Well, let's see. Three hundred raw recruits held the fort against thousands of attackers. Goblins, giants and such fought on the same side in an organized manner, and powerful magicians aided these same monsters in their attack.” She paused for a moment, before continuing, “No, I think that it was fairly normal.”

  The man's eyes narrowed, as several council members hid smiles behind their hands.

  “Now you listen here,” the thin man started, when Algin cut him off.

  “Aldred! This young lady is an honored hero of Telur. You will not treat her like some scribe in your school.”

  The thin man, apparently Aldred, held his tongue, although it was quite clear that it took an enormous effort.

  Algin turned back to Mikela, “My dear, we are interested in whether or not anything unusual happened with Prince Flaranthlas.”

  “Flare?” Mikela blurted, “I don't understand. What do you mean?”

  “What we want to know is did anything unexplainable happen when he was around?” This question had come from one of the two women on the council. She was a middle-aged woman with short graying hair and extremely light skin. She didn't have the appearance of a person who spent much time in the sun.

  Mikela's forehead creased as she tried to make sense of the question. What are they talking about? Then in a flash, the conversation about the Kelcer prophecy occurred to her. She spoke without thinking, “You're talking about Kelcer, aren't you? You think he is the one the prophecy talks about.”

  Several eyebrows shot up at her words, clearly surprised at her knowledge. It was Algin who spoke first, “We are not accusing anyone of anything, but we are understandably concerned.”

  Mikela was quickly moving past fear and confusion, and right into anger. “I thought that Kelcer said a descendant of the two lines would restore the Dragon Order. I don't think that being adopted qualifies, and I resent that you called me here to question me about the prince.” She referred to Flare as a prince, hoping that it make the council uneasy. It wasn't exactly smart to accuse a prince of the realm of being a warrior who was learning magic.

  Aldred opened his mouth to respond, but Algin silenced him with a look, then the little old man opened his mouth to speak but Mikela spoke right over him.

 
; “If you are so concerned, why don't you ask Flare to come here and answer your questions?” She said with her hands resting on her hips, feeling defiant and angry now. “Who knows, perhaps the king will want to accompany him.”

  Several of the council members grimaced; they all seemed to be uncomfortable. It was Algin who spoke and he seemed angry, “We do not like this any better than you do. This is not something that we enjoy!” The timid and confused old man was gone, and Mikela got her first glimpse of why Algin was the head of the magi council. “This is something that we have to do for our protection, and for yours.”

  Thoroughly confused now, Mikela shook her head. “What do you mean my protection? Protection from whom?”

  Algin sighed deeply and considered her, “I probably shouldn't have said that. Oh well, it's too late now.”

  Mikela looked around at the council members, they all seemed to be avoiding her gaze. “What is going on? Why are you talking about protection?”

  Algin leaned forward in his chair, “From the church, of course. If they thought that we allowed a fighter to learn the magical arts, they would surely hunt us down.” He paused for a moment and smiled sadly at the stunned look on Mikela's face. “My dear young lady, we have to keep a vigilant eye on our members. It's a horrible thing that we do when we find a mage who is teaching fighters, but it must be done. If we did not do this, then the church would surely ban magic.”

  A middle-aged man on the far left spoke up, “Wizardry is gone and sorcery is almost gone. Would you have magic join them?” All the members of the council looked grim at his words.

  Mikela looked at each of the faces in turn, and realized that each of them burned with fear. “What is it you want me to do? I know Flare, and I do not think for one moment that he would break the law and learn magic, and besides who would he find that would teach him?” A horrified thought occurred to her as she spoke these words, “You don't think that I'm teaching him magic. Do you?”

  “No. Of course not.” Algin said quickly. Judging by the looks on some of the council member's faces, some of them still considered it a possibility. “We are concerned that the elven mage might be teaching him, though.”

  It took a moment for his words to sink in, “Enstorion! Surely you don't think he would break our most sacred vows and teach magic to a fighter?”

  “We are concerned,” was all that Algin said in answer. “They are both elven and who knows what an elf will do?”

  Mikela was sick to her stomach, “I know both of them and I cannot for one minute think that they would do this thing!” She said vehemently.

  “As I have already said, we are not accusing anyone.” Algin repeated in a calming voice, “We are simply concerned and trying to prevent anything bad from happening.”

  Mikela's eyes narrowed, “And what is it you want me to do?”

  “Nothing wrong, I assure you. We simply want you to keep a look out for anything out of the ordinary. If anything unusual happens, then please just let us know.” Algin said with a grandfatherly smile on his face.

  “You want me to spy on my friends?” She asked flatly.

  “No, but you are honor bound to report any suspicion you might have. If the law is being broken you must report it to us, but this shouldn't be a problem, since you already said that neither of them would break the law.”

  She regarded the council wordlessly. Amazed at what they asking of her.

  Algin smiled at her again. “Go now. You are dismissed. Think on what was said here today, but keep it to yourself.”

  Aaron stopped walking and stood in the shade of a tavern. The shade seemed almost a paradise compared to the early afternoon sun. "Curse that fool girl," he growled beneath his breath. He had walked through what seemed like endless open air markets and stuck his head in more taverns than he wanted to think about, but still no sign of Elona. Everywhere he went, he had asked after a girl fitting her description, but in Telur young girls, who were on their own, were abundant. No one had seen her, or at least no one had seen her and wanted to admit it.

  He slowly scanned the crowds for any sign of Elona, but there wasn't any. The problem was there were so many people in the streets, that it made it nearly impossible to find anyone. It was worse near the markets, but even this street was seeing a large amount of traffic.

  What little breeze there was changed direction, and his nose wrinkled at the smell coming from the alleyway beside the tavern. It smelled of urine and vomit, a horrible combination that made him push away from the wall and start walking quickly.

  He approached the front door of the tavern, noting as he did so that it was called The Wench's Kiss. He was almost to the door, when he heard someone calling his name. Turning quickly, he felt somewhat disappointed to see Enton and Atock hurrying toward him.

  Atock nodded over Aaron's shoulder at the tavern, “Can't you find a better place than this to drink? Besides, isn't it a little early?”

  Aaron grimaced, “I'm not here to drink. I'm looking for Elona.” He quickly launched into the story of where the girl had been staying and also the fact that she hadn't come home last night. “I feel burdened by the girl, but I don't want anything to happen to her.”

  Atock and Enton glanced at each other, but it was Enton that spoke. “What are you going to do with her?”

  Aaron sighed and looked miserable, “I don't know. I wanted to help improve her life, but I wasn't looking for a wife. She's like a burden weighing me down.” He shook his head, “I don't know what to do.”

  Atock nodded, “You gave the girl a chance, but you can't force her to take it.”

  Aaron said nothing, he merely nodded.

  “Anyway,” Enton began, “We'll help you try and find her.”

  Aaron opened his mouth to protest, but Atock spoke quicker. “Besides, we have seen the girl before and we'll recognize her. And you don't have many volunteers.”

  Aaron was quiet for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, that would make things easier. Thanks.”

  Enton smiled and clapped his hands together, “Good. Let's get started.”

  Kara sat in a small anteroom shortly before sundown. Normally, she loved to visit the church in Telur. There had been a church in this location for the last two thousand years. In fact, this is the very spot where the god Adel had handed down the law to High Priest Byron Nock, the very first of the high priests. The church had grown much since those early days, and now its influence was felt across most of the known world. She loved to visit the church as it was unbelievably beautiful, but she had ignored the decorations and adornments and walked right past them this time without so much as a glance.

  This church was called the Holy Site of Origination, referring to the god Adel personally instructing the young priest on this very site. However, a more vulgar name for it was the golden church, which was used by commoners to denote the colossal amount of gold that was on display.

  She had been led by a young acolyte to this small waiting room, where the boy had left her. That had been over half an hour ago, and now she was afraid that perhaps she had been forgotten. Well, perhaps it was more like she was hoping that the tribunal had forgotten her. She didn't like this, being summoned to appear before a tribunal couldn't mean anything good. It was true that a priest or priestess that served in the guardians was outside the direct control of the church, inevitably they would one day return to the clergy. So, even though the church had limited power over her now, that would not always be true.

  She fidgeted in her chair without noticing. While most of the church was lavishly decorated, this small room was notably austere. Three small wooden chairs, not counting the one that Kara sat in, and two small end tables were all the furniture in the room. Two small wooden doors were the only entrances, she had entered through the door on her right, but she closely watched the door to her left.

  Kara was jolted from her thoughts, as the door to her left burst open. A tall man stood in the doorway watching her while he smiled. He had a friendly fa
ce, which reminded her of someone's kindly old grandfather. His appearance was finely groomed. His graying hair was cut short and brushed back and his beard was cut into a goatee. He wore a long sleeve white robe that covered everything except for his brown leather shoes. A purple belt that seemed to be made out of rope or cord hung tightly around the man's waist.

  Her eyes bulged at the sight of the man. Only a small group of priests wore the white robe and purple belt, the outfit was the badge of honor worn by the Arch-Bishops. The Arch-Bishops were only a small step below the high priest in terms of power and influence. If the high priest was the king of the church, then the Arch-Bishops were the princes.

  “Please follow me.” The man said quietly but with authority, this was a man who was used to being obeyed. Without waiting to watch Kara, he turned and walked back through the doorway.

  She bounded to her feet and hurriedly followed. It felt like her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. An Arch-Bishop! What could a man like him want with her?

  Kara hurried through the doorway into the dark room beyond. She immediately slowed down, due to the dimness of the room. She could just make out a rectangular table with five chairs on the far side of the table. Four of the chairs were occupied, and the Arch-Bishop that had led her into the room was just now sitting down in the fifth chair. She moved closer to the table, and then with a sinking feeling, she noticed that all five men appeared to have on the white robes and purple belts.

  “Welcome Kara Elba,” said the man in the middle. He was a fat balding man with soft hands that were not made for hard work. “This must be such a joy for you, I mean to return to this holy site after being gone for so long.”

  “Uh, yes. Thank you.” Kara stammered, still confused and wary about why she was here.

  “And to return a hero as well. I must say that you have done the church proud.” The fat Arch-Bishop was talking quite fast, and Kara was concentrating hard to make sure she didn't miss anything. “You are only the eighth member of the clergy to ever have won the golden dagger, and the other seven were awarded posthumously.”