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Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series Page 9
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He continued to follow the hall, until he reached an intersection. The hallway continued straight ahead, to the left, and to his surprise to the right. "Well, I guess I am no longer walking along the outside of the palace."
He started to turn left, when a whisper pulled him up short.
“Flaranthlas.” His name was whispered and for just a moment, he wasn't sure he had actually heard it.
He stopped dead in his tracks. His muscles all tensed up as he waited to see if he actually heard his name. He stood there for several moments but heard nothing more, except his heart beating loudly. Finally, he took another step through the intersection.
“Flaranthlas, this way.” This time the whisper was a little louder and he was sure that he heard it. It seemed to be coming from the right hand fork of the hall.
He turned toward the right hand hall where the whisper came from. It was dark down that hallway even to his elven sight. He took one step, sure that if somebody was down there, they had to be able to hear his heart beating.
Entering the hall, the darkness settled on him like a fog. Without thinking, he spoke a word of magic to generate light. The light illuminated the small room where he stood, surprising him since he thought this was a hallway not a room. The room was rectangular, deeper than wide. It had several metal brackets for torches to rest in and several exquisite tapestries hanging on the walls. The tapestries seemed unaffected by the passage of time. The floor of the room was covered by a brownish-red rug. A sofa sat against the wall on either side as he entered. There was a closed door on the far end of the room.
Clearly there was no one here, so whoever was calling him must be in the next room. He started across the room toward the distant door. He walked slowly, looking back and forth. Reaching the door, he reached out and turned the doorknob, opening the door into another room. The next room appeared to be a study or private library. Directly in front of him was a wooden desk and a high backed wooden chair. There was a large tapestry hanging behind the chair that depicted the victory in the demon-lord war. There were several other tapestries hanging on the other walls, but they seemed to be so rotten that he couldn't make them out. The walls also had several metal holders that were meant for torches, although no torches were there. A rug covered the floor but there was so much dust on it that he could only guess at the original color. Mostly empty bookshelves lined the walls, but here and there a few tattered books still remained lying on the shelves. There were no windows or doors in this room, except the one door that he had entered by.
He slowly walked toward the desk and peered over it, half expecting to see someone cowering in front of the chair. With a sigh of relief, he realized that no one was there.
“Flaranthlas.” This time the whisper came from Flare's left.
He spun toward the wall, but empty bookcases were all that was in front of him. He looked around and even upwards to make sure that he didn't miss anything, and then he stepped closer to the wall.
“Flaranthlas, this way.” The whisper was stronger and it was still coming from directly in front of him.
He scanned the wall and bookcases for any clue as to how get behind the bookcases. Just then, a torch holder on the wall squeaked, sounding like a door opening on rusty hinges. His first reaction was instinctive, and he jumped back. With his heart beating rapidly, he stepped closer to the wall and looked at the torch holder. It looked just like all the other torch holders that he had seen in this part of the palace. It was made of black wrought iron. The torch holder had a cup at the bottom and rings that were used to hold the torch. The rings were held to the cup by small metal rods that ran the full length of the holder. The holder was held to the wall by a small metal arm that was attached to the stone of the wall.
Flare reached out and tried to turn the torch holder, first to the left and then to the right, but it wouldn't budge. Looking closer, he noticed a small knot on the arm that held the holder to the wall. He touched the knot, and it depressed like a button. 'What in the name of the abyss does that do?' He depressed the knot again, and when he did, he accidentally bumped the torch holder. This time the torch holder easily swung to the left and when it did the bookcase swung away from the wall, revealing a dark narrow passage. The light from his magic spell did not seem to penetrate the darkness. He peered in from the door, but could not make out anything. He hesitantly stepped into the darkness, and at the same moment a skeletal arm with rotten clothing grabbed him and yanked him farther in. He let out a scream as he flew forward.
Flare sat up in bed, covered in sweat and grasping for breath. “It was just a dream.” He told himself over and over, but it had certainly felt real enough.
It was not quite daylight yet, and he had not been asleep for long. However, the fear from the nightmare lingered and he could not get back to sleep.
The first thing that Flare did after eating breakfast was head towards Dagan's room. The dream still bothered him and he wanted to ask the sorcerer about it. He was supposed to meet the other guardians for physical drill, but he could be late. Being a prince did have its privileges after all.
He stopped when he reached the intersection from his dream. He couldn't remember having ever paid that much attention to the intersection before. Where the door had been in his dream, a stone wall was in reality. He felt around on the wall, but could find no sigh that there had ever been a door there. He was aware that part of the palace had been around for centuries, and other parts had been built on top of previous castles. Perhaps Dagan knew about the older portions.
Reaching Dagan's door, Flare knocked loudly. Voices came from the other side and then they quieted. He was fixing to knock again when the door opened and Dagan stood in the doorway. “Come in my boy. I didn't realize we had a meeting scheduled for today, but I seem to keep forgetting them, don't I?”
He entered the room, and was surprised to see Duke Angaria sitting in one of the chairs. The duke stood as Flare entered. “Counselor, I did not mean to intrude on your teaching our new prince.” Flare never knew anyone could put such venom on a word as the duke did when he said the word prince. “I'll leave you two alone, now.” The Duke said, heading toward the door. “Just remember what I said.” He didn't even look at Flare as he passed.
Flare did not like seeing Duke Angaria in Dagan's quarters. It made him uncomfortable, as if Dagan was telling things to the Duke that he shouldn't. He didn't like doubting the old man; he seemed like such a good friend. He waited until the door closed before saying, “What did he want?”
“Humph, that one is nothing but trouble. He wanted to know how your studies were going and if you had displayed any abnormal behavior.” Dagan said, walking across the room and sitting down in his favorite chair.
“Abnormal behavior. What did he mean by that?” Flare asked, feeling nervous.
“I'm not sure, but you had better watch him closely. He's always up to no good, and he doesn't like you one bit.” Dagan said. “What brought you here this morning? I know that we didn't have an appointment today, in fact I thought you would be drilling with those other soldiers out there in the mud somewhere.”
Still feeling uneasy about Angaria following up on his whereabouts, Flare moved over and sat down in the chair across from Dagan. The chair was warm, like the duke had been sitting there for quite a while. He made up his mind to talk about his dream, but not give up too much information. “This portion of the palace seems almost deserted. How old is it?"
Dagan's forehead wrinkling was the only sign of his surprise at the question. “Well, most of the castle has been completely rebuilt over the years. The tower in the courtyard is at least two thousand years old, since it is known that Kelcer jumped to his death from it, and King Wyndon the second disappeared about the same time in a portion of the castle. He was never found, and a couple of his personal rooms were walled up, and built around.”
A chill ran up Flare's spine. Could the personal rooms they walled up be what was in his dreams? “Do you know what rooms
were walled up?” He asked.
Dagan shook his head. “I'm not sure. The story is so old and may not even be true. Why?”
Flare shrugged his shoulders. It probably okay to discuss his dream, but Angaria's presence still unnerved him. He paused briefly considering what to say. “I'm just curious about the castle.” He said, calling it a castle like Dagan always did. “How does a king just disappear?”
“It's a mystery. Apparently the guards were stationed right outside his door and they supposedly didn't hear anything. They reportedly searched the castle for days, but they didn't find any trace of him. His son was named king after it was decided that he had been assassinated. Personally, I would guess the son either killed him or had him killed.”
“What? His own son!” Flare was shocked by the statement and the casual way that Dagan said it.
“Throughout history princes have killed the kings to speed up succession. It's not that uncommon. Haven't elven princes ever killed their fathers to become king?” Dagan asked.
Flare shook his head, still upset by the thought of sons killing their fathers. “I have never heard of such a thing. I can't imagine what kind of person could do that.”
Dagan just shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, the story goes that people started hearing noises shortly after King Wyndon disappeared. They thought his ghost was haunting several of his personal rooms, and they walled them up and built around them. It's not uncommon for unused sections of the castle to be walled up and built over. In fact, a lot of those old sections had secret entrances constructed, so that they could be used as secret passages. You know, for a king or noble to visit his mistress or to spy on his enemies.”
“How would a person gain access to these secret passages?” Flare asked.
“Well it depends on when the passages were built and by whom. These were closely guarded secrets, since the nobility did not want the passages to be used against them.” Dagan replied. He tilted his head to one side, “Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”
Flare dropped his eyes to the floor. He hated doubting Dagan, but for the time being, it was probably the best thing for him. “I would prefer not to at this time.” He quietly answered.
Dagan smiled. “Fair enough. What else can I answer for you?”
“Well I guess that's about it. I really should get to the practice field; I'm pretty late as it is.” He said, getting up and heading for the door.
“Flare, of course you know that you can trust me. If anyone finds out about your sorcery lessons, then I'll be hanging right beside you.” Dagan's said, as Flare was opening the door.
He stopped and smiled back at Dagan, “I know. Thanks again.”
Flare spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon drilling with the guardians. It was clear that his mind was on other things, and he paid the price for it. Enton dealt him a serious bruise with one of the practice swords, but it Flare's own fault and he knew it. He was thinking about his dream and the information provided to him by Dagan instead of paying attention to the sword practice. He was also beaten pretty handily by both Derek and Atock in unarmed combat drills. It was a beaten and sore Flare that left the practice field and headed back to the palace.
He stopped briefly, only long enough to wash up and get a change of clothes. Then he headed straight for the library.
Once he reached the library, it took several minutes to find Julia. He found her reorganizing books, well, reorganizing may have been a bit generous, buried under may have been a little more truthful. When he stepped around the corner, she was sitting in the middle of a huge pile of books, trying to sort them out. His sudden appearance caught her off guard, but the look of surprise quickly disappeared and was replaced by a smile. She jumped to her feet and curtsied to him. “Good afternoon, Prince Flare.”
Flare smiled back to her. “Good evening Julia. How are you?”
Her smile slipped a little as she looked around at all the books on the floor. “I made the mistake of trying to organize these books.” She turned back to him and her smile returned bigger than before, “I should have known better.”
“I'm sorry to bother you in the middle of this,” he said motioning to the stacks of books, “but I was hoping that you could help me find some books on a subject or two.”
Julia stepped over the books towards him, almost right up against him. “I can finish this anytime. It's not like anybody will even notice.”
“Excellent. I would like to find some books on King Wyndon the second, he supposedly died sometime right after the demon-lord war.”
Julia smiled at Flare again, which caused a warm feeling to spread across his body. Her smile had a puppy dog look to it and gave him the impression that she was smitten with him. “That's easy. I thought that you were going to ask something hard. All the books on the kings are arranged chronologically and we have quite a few. Let me show you where they are.” She led him toward the far corner of the library. “Actually, there are a lot more books around that period of time, I guess due to the demon-lord war and all. This whole row is dedicated to the kings of Telur.” Julia pointed to a long row full of books of all shapes and sizes.
“All these books are on the kings of Telur?” Flare asked incredulously, coming to a stop.
Julia had kept walking, “Yes, but the ones that will interest you are located right about ... here.”
Flare looked to where she pointed, and marked the location in his mind. “Great. Can you please show me where books on the Kelcer prophecy would be?”
Julia frowned, “I'm sorry but all the books on the Kelcer prophecy were removed to the library of the church. That was done a long time ago; I guess they did it so they could study the prophecy in hopes of preventing it.”
She looked crestfallen, disappointed that she couldn't help him. “That's okay. You have been more than helpful.” He said, stepping next to Julia and touching her arm. Her breath caught in her throat, and he smiled at her. She smiled back, blushed, and then dropped her eyes to the floor.
“If you need anything else, please let me know.” She said, still unable or unwilling to make eye contact. She practically fled down the aisle and around the corner. He smiled, before turning to the book shelf.
It took a couple of hours to flip through the books on King Wyndon and find several he thought would be helpful. He left the library with five books under his arm and headed straight back to his room.
Arriving at his quarters, he stripped off his shirt and immediately flopped down on the bed with a book. He read for hours, stopping only to light a candle when it had gotten too dark to read, and then later, to go and relieve himself.
King Wyndon the second had become king of the small but growing kingdom of Telur sixteen years before the demon-lord war. To the south the much larger and more powerful kingdoms of Dalar and Ontarin were Telur's main competition. To the east the bigger and more powerful kingdom of Molindor was already starting to lose power, and it was fighting viciously to hold on to its place of prominence. The first ten years of Wyndon's rule, Dalar and Ontarin had been at war with each other, and that had helped allow Telur to expand without interference. The small populace of Telur expanded into the prairies to the west and in to the forests to the north. Game was plentiful and the farmland was fertile providing Telur with a large food supply which helped the population grow quickly. The abundant food supply and the trees of the forest gave the king plenty to trade with other kingdoms.
King Wyndon traded with the dwarves from the southwest and the sailors of the far west to bring in armor and weapons to the kingdom. He built up the army as quickly as possible, knowing that the war between Dalar and Ontarin could not last forever, and seeing the war as something that hid the growth of Telur from the two kingdoms. The army quickly grew and was outfitted with the newest armor and weapons that could be bought.
When the war between Dalar and Ontarin ended without any winner, both kingdoms were too tired of war to notice the threat that Telur now posed
on their northern borders.
At this same time, two members of the Dragon Order renounced the order and left the northern kingdoms. Their names were Urselen and Ven-stanarion. The remaining two members of the dragon order immediately warned that a war was coming, but they were ignored.
Soon thereafter, the armies of Golteranth swept northward, easily burning and pillaging the few small kingdoms and city-states that laid to the south of Dalar and Ontarin.
Almost too late the human kingdoms realized their danger. A truce was quickly arranged, and then a meeting took place in the capital of Ontarin. In the meeting, an alliance was arranged between the four kingdoms of Telur, Dalar, Ontarin, and Molindor. Numerous smaller kingdoms also joined the alliance, and Flare noticed the kingdom of Entucca, which he knew was the homeland of Atock. The elves and the dwarves also joined the alliance in the fight against Golteranth. The armies of the four human kingdoms were quickly merged with the armies of the elves and the dwarves and placed under the command of the two remaining members of the dragon order, Osturlius and Kychant. In order to organize the armies into one new army, the alliance had to pull their troops northward to gain time to get the troops organized, this had a disastrous affect on the two kingdoms of Dalar and Ontarin. The southern half of the two kingdoms was laid waste by the advance of the troops of Golteranth. The battle was joined on the plains of Delteck just south of Victory Lake. In the battle, Kychant killed Urselen, but in turn was dealt a mortal blow. Osturlius killed Ven-stanarion but was himself wounded in the battle. Osturlius had to be carried off the field of battle on a stretcher, but recovered quickly. The forces of Golteranth were soundly defeated, and fled the battle. The human forces pursued, butchering any and all that they caught.