Waiting for Mortis
Session Fifty-Seven of the Notoriety of Kings Campaign

Calday, 18 Mizzle Month 204 [continued]

Arvan knows that the rest of the party are more than two hours behind him as he spots a wagon rattling down the track and onto the shingle beach. It is accompanied by five horsemen. Three armoured men, a woman he does not recognise and Ralyon Artusi. At almost exactly the same time a boat is lowered from the Bloodwench and moves toward the shore. It is a longboat, capable of carrying eighteen men, although only four pilot it. As the boat approaches the shore, a covered object is unloaded from the back of the wagon. A glint of silver from the under the taupaulin reveals that it is a large cage.

The cage, the unknown woman and Artusi get onto the boat and begin to move back to the ship. The five hundred yard journey takes about ten minutes. Once alongside, the cage is winched aboard and lowered onto the deck. A man, who is probably Alastor Helm, walks onto the deck and up to the cage. He raises the taupaulin and looks within. From this distance Arvan cannot hear what is said, but Helm looks extremely pleased with himself, even as he does wipe spit from his eye. At a signal from Helm the cage is winched up and placed into the hold of the vessel, next to dozens of its kind.

At this point Artusi steps in and begins to talk with Helm. Helm shakes his head and Artusi begins to get quite animated, waving his arms about. He is angry and upset. He places his hand on Helm’s shoulder. The man turns and pushes Artusi to the deck. When Artusi stands, the woman steps inbetween him and Helm. Helm says something and she begins to advance toward Artusi. He backs away, obviously frightened. The woman’s hand becomes engulfed in a strange green energy as she reaches out and touches Artusi. Artusi moves to jump into the water. As he does so, she touches his shoulder. Artusi opens his mouth in a silent scream and falls over the side of the boat and into the sea.

Suddenly, another wizard gestures and sends a fireball rattling toward the shore. It covers the five hundred yards with ease and erupts around the men who came with Artusi. Man, wagon and horse are all destroyed, leaving a crater on the beach. Helm gives a command and preparations are made to get the ship underway.

Arvan is now left with a dilemma. He has to stop that vessel from moving. Even the swift Raza is more than an hour away, the druid knows that he has to act soon, and he has to be careful not to use his mighty powers to sink the ship because of the caged prisoners on board. Swooping low to the water, Arvan wildshapes from hawk into half-orc and hangs onto the keel of the boat the waterline. His plan is to flamestrike the main mast. However, to do that he needs to a get a clear view.

Arvan kicks off from the side of the ship, his armour fills with water and he prompty begins to drown. Somehow he struggles back up to the surface, but the damage has been done, and he has been spotted by people on the deck. However, Arvan gets the drop on them and unleashes his ‘flame strike’. A column of fiery death materialises half way up the mast and explodes in both directions. The main sail is instantly immolated, the crow’s nest (and the poor fellow standing in it) is propelled into the darkening sky like a firework and pieces of burning detritus are flung in all directions, setting fire to the other sails and the deck.

His job done Arvan turns to wildshape himself into a marlin, to effect an underwater getaway. This he achieves, but not before he has been grivously injured by two well-placed lightning bolts from the vessel. Retreating to a safe distance, Arvan transforms himself from marlin to gull and takes to the air once more. The ship has stopped. The crew is busy putting out the fires. Assuming they have spare sails Arvan has delayed them for some time.

And it is this sight that greets Raza as he arrives on the beach-head. Seeing as he cannot act alone he sits on the shingle cogitates. In the chaos Arvan finds and flies down to the floating body of Artusi. The nobleman is dead, probably to some sort of necromantic magic. Arvan flies to the shore to join Raza, where they wait for the others.

By the time Elias, Nicos, Brack, Shredder, Selgin and Stone arrive an hour later, the Bloodwench is once again ready to get underway from its position seven hundred yards from the shore. “Can I hit it with a fireball?” he asks, but the question doesn’t require an answer. The ship is out of the range of almost anything.

While Arvan appraises everyone of the situation, and Artusi’s death, the group argues as to how they are going to get out there and effect a rescue, Nicos summons a creature with its magic. A nasty-looking being, just taller than Brack with pipecleaner-thin limbs, a hook nose and leathery wings appears before them engulfed in a hot blue flame. Before Elias can detect whether it is evil, it has taken to the sky under Nicos’s instructions and is heading for the vessel. Before the crew of the Bloodwench know what has happened the little imp Nicos has decided to call Bert, shoots through all three sails setting them on fire. It then turns and heads back to the ship, resisting umpteen attempts to dispel it. It lands on the wheel and does a little dance setting fire to most of the aftcastle in the process. Eventually a well placed spell returns it to its own dimension, but not after the damage has been done. Nicos is extremely pleased with himself.

Meanwhile, Brack has been looking at the remains of the wagon and thinks they can be used as a crude boat. He is sure that it is water tight. Arvan points out the extensive holes the size of a man’s torso that litter the vehicle, however Brack’s idea is sound. Elias hides his magic armour on the beach and, a ‘wood shape’ spell later and the seven are launching their new found boat into the rising tide, in an attempt to paddle out toward the ship. As it is now dark, it is hoped that they will not be seen until they are close enough to make a hole in the hull. Both Stone and Brack are uncomfortable with this mode of transport, neither having any natural buoyancy.

As they paddle off, Brack spots a dark shape flying across the water to the Bloodwench. It is Malant of the Desideratum Veritas. No-one else spots him and soon the man is hidden from view by the ship itself. It is only moments later, however, that a green mist engulfs the ship. “That’s the work of a Zephyre cleric,” says Elias, as the acidic mist starts to burn the crew and many leap into the water to escape it. “I’m going to dispel it!” says Nicos. “Don’t do that, you fool!” exclaims Elias. “He’s on our side?” – “I don’t like him,” says Nicos. “Why shouldn’t I dispel it?” Elias is about to answer Nicos’s petulance when the cloud vanishes, the result of a Potentate’s desperation. However, under the cover of that green cloud, the Chosen have got very close to the vessel, it will take only a little luck to reach it safely.

Unfortunately, their luck utterly deserts them as they are seem from the ship and three fireballs materialise and clatter across the sea towards them. Nicos counterspells one of the attacks, but the other two strike the wagon, completely atomising it. Elias and Raza leap to safety, Arvan is very nearly killed and floats face down in the water. Nicos took no damage from the fire but is left foundering in the wreck of the boat, as is Stone who is desperately clinging onto the wreckage. Selgin has completely disappeared and Brack has to be rather ignominiously rescued by Shredder.

Raza swims swiftly to the side of the Bloodwench, and has desperate trouble climbing up. Brack finds it much easier to climb with using his throwing axes to create hand holds. Shredder somehow hangs on behind him. Raza is spotted, and several magic missiles lance down into the water and stab at him. He tries to climb again. “Where is he?” asks Alastor Helm and peers over the side of the vessel. Seeing Raza climbing up, Helm grestures and sprays a series of different coloured beams of energy in the monk’s general direction. Raza twists and falls back into the water, narrowly missing contact with the yellow beam.

Reaching the side of the ship, Arvan (who has been resuscitated by Elias) casts a ‘wood shape’ spell and opens a doorway in the side of the vessel above the waterline. He and Elias stagger through, followed by Stone. Nicos is last through, as he stops outside to hurl a fireball of his own at Alastor Helm. The mage counter-spells it with ease. The four in the hold find themselves in a box room with one exit, and twelve similarly clad indivdiuals racing toward them, raising their hands and sending a series of magic missiles at Elias. The Chosen have made their beach head and now they must fight to gain control of the ship.

On the deck, things do not begin well. Brack, although quick with his axe, goes down to a wave of magic missiles, leaving Shredder to battle three Potentates on his own. Raza finally gets onto the deck and squares off against Alastor Helm who reverses gravity underneath the monk, leaving him hanging on to the gunwale for his life. The cleric Malant is nowhere to be seen.

Below decks, Nicos lets off a fireball that takes out ten of the twelve foes, and also blows out the surrounding bulkheads to reveal the cages cramped with sorcerers. Nicos’s fireball has killed one of them, but he doesn’t seem at all bothered when Elias points this out. There is a growing friction between the two friends. Each sorcerer in the cage wears a mithril bracelets and collar connected by a fine chain. Occassionally one of them yells in pain. Elias surmises that this happens when the Potentates above cast their magic, and drain the sorcerers of their life energy. One suddenly topples forward, their bones and internal organs liquefied. Elias realises that if they cannot stop the Potentates soon, there won’t be anyone left to rescue.

Helm dismisses all the Potentates on deck into the hold to deal with the intruders. He can handle Raza on his own, he says. However, he has not counted on Malant. The cleric glides across the ship like a giant bat and lands behind Helm, whipping the end of his weighted cloak around and clocking the mage on the back on the head. “Keep him down,” Malant orders Raza, “Do not give him time to rise. Do not give him time to cast a spell!” Raza explodes into a cleverly timed flurry of blows. Everytime Helm opens his mouth to cast a spell, Raza rams his fist into it.

Meanwhile, Brack’s life is saved by Shredder who leaps into the fray grabbing a Potentate by the neck and shaking him vigourously until his limbs fall off. In the hold reinforcements lance more magical missiles in the Chosen’s direction. Arvan is hit and falls to the groud heavily. Rather than use his powers to get Arvan onto his feet, Nicos throws all caution to the wind and charges into mêlée against their foes. Elais calls after him, but he pays no attention. Their battle is taking too long. Another sorcerer turns into a puddle of goo – how long before that is Ravenna?

Yet eventually the tide does turn. In the hold, Elias and Reuben Stone wade into mêlée next to Nicos and destroy their foes. Arvan is revived. On the deck Malant and Raza batter Helm into unconsciousness. It is over. Of the thirty-eight sorcerers on the ship, four were drained to death by the Potentates, and one was killed by Nicos. There is no sign at all of non-sorcerer prisoners such as Honour and Dellan Gant’s men, neither is there any sign of Ulgin Tronkyte’s crew or the captain.

Elias finds Ravenna’s cage and smashes open the lock. The sorceress gets out uneasily. She wears the mithril bracelets and necklace. The bracelets have been attached together to bind her wrists and hooked to a chain attached to the necklace. After a few minutes of trying, Elias cannot remove them. Ravenna says that she will sort it out later. She wants to hear what is going on. Elias and Arvan tell her everything including Artusi’s death. If Ravenna is moved by these events she does not show it. She must still find her uncle. She has to speak with Malant.

The Chosen of Narramac and Reuben Stone confront Malant of the Desideratum Veritas. Helm is not dead, and Malant wants to take him, the ship and all the Potentate paraphenalia into the custody of the Arcanum Incognita. Reuben Stone is not happy. Helm killed his brother Viktor and he wants blood. Malant sees the passion in Reuben Stone’s voice and says, “And you shall see blood. When the Arcanum Incognita has asked this man all the questions we need, he will be executed. I will make sure thay you will be the executioner.”

Stone may be happy, but Nicos isn’t. “Why do we always take this crap from people?” he asks. “Why do we always get shafted.” He goes onto say that there is enough mithril on this boat to buy a small kingdom. Why the hell should they give it to the Arcanum Incognita. They risked their lives, they deserve a reward. Elias is beside himself with anger. He calls Nicos a mercenary and an opportunist. They had an agreement with Malant. Without him, Raza could probably not have defeated Helm. They agreed to let him have the ship and what was on it. “I didn’t make that deal!” exclaims Nicos, and it looks as though things could come to blows.

Ravenna steps forward. “What do you know about my uncle?” she asks. Malant’s eyes narrow. “I can tell you very little,” he says. Malant stoops and retrieves an object from Helms neck. He waves it over Ravenna’s collar and it, and the bracelets, fall to the deck. “How little?” is the focussed reply as Ravenna instinctively rubs her sore wrists. “Tell me everything, Malant. Everything you know about these Potentates.”

Malant nods. He looks from Ravenna to Elias to Nicos and makes a decision. “Very well,” says Malant. “For your help I will tell you as much as I can. The Potentates are a illegal off-shoot of the Arcanum Incognita. They wanted to marry sorcery and wizardry to create the ultimate magic weaver. They wanted to create a form of magic that combined the versatility of sorcery with the safety of wizardry. They did not succeed. What they did manage to do was devise a way in which a wizard could drain a sorcerer’s life force to cast magic. This by-passed the wizard’s need to prepare spells in advance. However, the drain to the sorcerer was permanent and very quickly fatal. Obviously, the Arcanum Incognita took steps against them.”

“The Potentates were based on the island of Varosh, a few miles off the southern coast of Sorostrae. We of the Desideratum Veritas found them at the end of First Snow 199. The battle was swift and we drove them from the island. Very few escaped, but amongst them was one of their leaders, Elsabette Morketh. I was with the force that attacked Varosh. Of course, I was very young at the time.”

“We scoured Urova for Morketh, but she had gone to ground. We never gave up, of course. The Desideratum Veritas never gives up. By the Mizzle Month of 200 LE we had searched as far as Uris, although we had still not found her. Seasons passed, and then we received word that Morketh had been seen in Norandor. This was in the Kindlesmoke of 203. Efforts to find her were redoubled. Investigation eventually led me to Uris where I discovered that Morketh was going by the name of Argesteine Fletcher. She was connected with the disappearance of many sorcerers in the city during the summer of this year, and I realised she was trying to start up a new group of Potentates here. She was linked with an attack on the house of a known sorcerer called Derriac on the thirteenth of Brightday, and with a man called Alastor Helm.”

“Both Morketh and Helm had some connection with Jhasik Tannesh. He purchased a warehouse in their names and he bought materials for them through his jewellers.” Ravenna interrupts. “Why did he do this?” Malant shakes his head. “I do not know, but Helm does, and he will reveal everything he knows when I return with him to the Chapter House.”

“Where is my uncle?” asks the sorceress, but Malant does not know the answer to that either. “We do yet know why the Potentates chose Uris to rebuild themselves. I believe that they were looking for something, but what that something is, I do not know. As they were preparing to leave, they had evidently found it.” Elias glances are Arvan. Gant told them that Helm spoke of a “vessel”. They were ready to get underway the second that Ravenna was brought aboard. Could Ravenna be the thing they were looking for? If this is so, what is Ravenna’s importance? Neither Arvan or Elias see fit to raise these suspicions in front of Malant.

“This has something to do with my parents,” Ravenna mumbles. “We heard about your mother,” says Nicos. And the fire cleric explains that Argesteine Fletcher (aka Moketh) was seen at The Fluglehorn with someone answering the description of Ravenna’s mum. “What is your mother’s name?” asks Malant seriously. “Alhanna,” replies Ravenna. Malant muses for a second and then says, “A wizardess called Alhanna Larenne was a member of the Potentates. She was on Varosh when we broke their base there, she must have been little more than your age. She was never found.”

Ravenna finds this a little hard to swallow. Her mother was a member of this cult that drains that the life energy from sorcerers? Even if that isn’t true, there must be some link. Her uncle is still missing, and if Morketh really did know her mother there must have been some reason. “Where is Morketh now?” she asks.

“I have reason to believe that Morketh left Uris towards the end of Brightday.” – “Probably the fortieth,” says Raza, looking at the details of the ledger from the uris harbourmaster. “On this ship.” – “So where are they going?” Nicos pulls his mirror. “Show me Ulgin Tronkyte,” he commands and gets nothing but static. Grudgingly he gives the mirror to Arvan who repeats the command. “He’s in his cabin hiding under his bed,” says the druid simply.

Brack and Elias drag the stunningly ugly Tronkyte onto the deck. The man wants to make it perfectly clear that he is willing tell Malant, Stone and the party absolutely everything. As to his destination, he was heading to the island of Varosh. All his trips from Uris since 40th Brightday have been to Varosh.

Malant says that he will take the boat, the surviving Potentates (including Helm), the mithril, Tronkyte and the sorcerers with him to the Arcanum Incognita and get to the bottom of matters. “You have my word that I will share what I find with you,” he says to Ravenna. Nicos doesn’t like this. He loudly states that they cannot trust Malant, and that they should take the mithril and sell it. Elias is on the verge of hitting him. Ravenna agrees to Malant’s proposal. There are so many unanswered questions here, and only the Arcanum Incognita seem to have the resources to get to the bottom of it all. Including what has happened to Honour and the others.

Elias is too angry to spend any more time with Nicos. Nicos himself is just getting “a bit pissed off with Elias’s goody-two-shoes mentality”. While Malant and the rest of his companions take The Bloodwench back to Uris, Elias takes a rowing boat back to the shore. When lowering it, he discovers Selgin floating on a piece of wagon wreckage, and has him hoisted onto the ship. Elias recovers his magical armour, and then rides back to the capital with the party’s horses in tow.

In Uris, Raza, Brack, Ravenna, Nicos and Arvan bid farewell to Reuben Stone. Their debt with Fenton Pryde is paid in full. Stone wishes them good fortune. The remaining members of the Chosen and Selgin return to the White Suite. Selgin is very happy to see Ravenna, although the sorceress is completely ignoring him. As soon as they get through the doors Lucien appears before them.

Despite the time their servant appears alert. Choosing not to mention their cut, burned and generally bedraggled appearance, Lucien has important information to impart. “Madame, sirs,” he smiles. “The alleged prince, Queston, came to see you while you were gone.” Raza curses that he missed Queston, after waiting for him all this time. “He said he will call again if he can, but I believe he is making plans to be gone from the city in advance of the death of the king. Also, you have been summoned by Count Kristus”.

“Why should we go and see him?” asks Nicos. Remembering Aylisha’s warnings, Arvan says that they must. They cannot afford to make an open enemy of Count Kristus, at least not yet. Everyone is impressed with Arvan’s grip of court politics. This does not please the half-orc. They will go and see Kristus in the morning.

As Selgin retired to a guest room, the rest of the Chosen make for their beds. Rhiana is waiting for Raza. “You need me to help you sleep,” says the elf soothingly. But Raza is suddenly all energy. Last night, because of the drink he wasn’t thinking clearly. Now he is, and he knows exactly what he wants Rhiana to do. “Wake up King Yaddagon,” he pleads. “You can do it! The king has to name an heir. Go into his mind and wake him from his coma!”

Arvan overhears this and enters the room. Rhiana looks at them both. It seems that this is the only way to get Raza’s cooperation. She closes her eyes and concentrates. “It is done,” she says. Raza and Arvan are agog. “The king is out of his coma and sleeping a natural sleep. He will awake normally in the morning, although he may only live hours after that. Now you must also sleep.” Raza allows the elf to send him to sleep, but it is not easy for her because his mind is exploding with new possibilities. Thanks to Rhiana Yaddagon XIV is conscious to make one final decision as King of Norandor.

Meanwhile, Elias returns to Uris in a foul mood. So much so that instead of heading for the White Suite he makes his way to his own townhouse. Nicos’s mercenary attitude combined with his recklessness in battle have profoundly annoyed the paladin. He is also cold and wet, which does little to mollify his mood.

Letting himself in a side door as to not disturb the servants, Elias makes his way to his sitting room. There is a warm glow emenating from the darkness. Odd that a fire should be lit at such an hour. He removes his cloak and moves to hang in on a hook in his chamber. There is another cloak all ready there. Then it strikes him. Drasha.

She is sitting in a high-backed chair before the fire. Elias stops in the doorway, but the sound is enough to alert his wife. She stands quickly and turns to him. A half-smile plays across her face, but from her posture and the inclination of her head, Elias can tell that she is nervous. The legacy of the Blade of Prudence has given him that much perception.

“You’ve returned,” she says at last. “Is Ravenna safe?” Elias nods. “She is.” – “We went to the White Suite as soon as we arrived in the city. Lucien told us that you were out looking for Ravenna, but without knowing where you went….” – “We?” asks Elias. “Misgon is with me,” Drasha explains. “He’s gone to bed. He insisted on coming. He’s become something of a wizard in your absence, he unlocked both spell books and learned everything in them.”

There is an awkward pause. Both of them are intimately aware that they are not here to talk about Misgon. “And you are well?” asks Elias, a little too formally. “Better than you are,” says Drasha, “come into the light.” Elias walks into the firelight, and allows Drasha to examine the extensive array of cuts and burns he obtained this evening. “Take off your jacket,” she says pulling a bottle of something from the mantle, “let me see to those wounds.”

Drasha seems pleased to be doing something practical to take her mind off any difficult questions. Dabbing a cloth with dark liquid she begins to clean Elias’s wounds. “I seem to remember doing this once before,” she muses. “Shortly after you killed my husband.” Elias twitches. “Your journey, was it a success?”

Elias tells her of of the acquisition and loss of the seventh sword. “We didn’t all make it back,” he says heavily. Drasha puts down the bottle. “Who? Who didn’t come back?” she asks. “Alessandre,” Elias replies. “I’m so sorry, Elias,” Drasha says. It is a testament to the woman’s character that she truly means that. “It must have been very hard for you.” She places a hand on Elias’s shoulder. Drasha’s pity is the last thing Elias wants. He stands and begins to pace the room.

“While I was away,” he begins, and then catches her eye. It must be something in Elias’s countenance, but in an instant Drasha seems to comprehend everything. Elias watches her visibly stiffen. He presses on. “While I was away, Alessandre and I had a conversation.” – “A conversation?” questions Drasha. “Yes, about the evening you and her talked. The last evening in Umbria. I wanted to know the truth.”

“The truth?” Drasha sits down to better look at Elias. He catches sight of the ring he gave her, still hanging on a chain around her neck. “The truth? What did you know of the truth Elias? When you gave me this ring were you telling me the truth? When you said that there was no-one else you would rather be with, when I gave you the chance to back away and you refused it, were you telling the truth then?”

Blade of Prudence or no, Elias cannot match Drasha’s intuition. His own questions have floundered, as she attacks the centre of the problem. “When I said that,” Elias stammers, “when I said that, there was no one else. I thought she was dead, I didn’t think I would ever see her again.” – “And then you did see her again,” Drasha’s voice is like ice. Elias nods.

Drasha stands. Elias realises that he doesn’t have to tell her anything else. She all ready knows enough. Drasha stands there staring into the air for a few moments. Elias doesn’t notice that her breathing is becoming laboured, and cannot see her eyes for because of the shadows cast by the fire. Then she shakes herself, as if an enormous effort of will is bottling up every emotion in her body.

“I see,” she says at last. “This is your marriage to do with as you see fit, of course. It is not my place to gainsay your actions.” Elias moves to speak, but he quickly thinks better of it. “However,” she pulls the chain from around her neck and places the ring on the table. “I am still wife, but I am no longer your friend.” She moves to the doorway. “I will return to Umbria in the morning. Good night Elias.”

With that she calmly walks from the room and ascends the stairs to the bedroom. Elias flops into the chair and takes up the ring. By the light of the fire he reads, “I promise that I will always be true to you – Elias.” He slams it down on the table and charges up the stairs. In an instant he is hammering on the door to his wife’s bedroom. There is a pause of a minute and then Drasha rents it open.

If she seems distressed, or appears as one who has only recently regained her composure, Elias does not notice. “What do you want?” Drasha demands. “I have to know, Drasha. Alessandre told me that you only wanted to become my wife so you could continue being baroness. She said that you never loved me. Is that true?” The look on Drasha’s face is one of utter surprise. “You can ask me that?” – “I have to know. Was it true?” – “She certainly thought it was!” That statement cuts Elias very deeply.

“Elias, go. Just go,” Drasha says, trying to close the door. “But…” – “Elias, I have not the words to convey the contempt I am feeling for you at this moment. Just go. Leave me alone. Please, leave alone.” Drasha turns her head as she utters those last words, as if she is trying to conceal her face. She pushes Elias away, closes the door and locks it.

Elias turns and runs down the stairs. His shouts waking the servants. “Saddle my horse and get me some food,” he demands of the first bleary-eyed dogsbody he sees. He looks back up at Drasha’s door and then turns toward the stables. “Life is what you make of it,” he mutters.

He has no place here any more. Drasha was his last tie to Uris, now she doesn’t want anything to do with him. She certainly doesn’t need him to run the barony, she can do far better than he ever could. As for the rest of the Chosen? What is he? Only a glorified fighter with a few magical abilities that any of them could equal. They don’t need him either. Ravenna is safe, and he has been finding himself drifting away from them all recently – expecially Nicos, with whom he used to be such good friends. There is still someone who needs him: Alessandre. Her spirit is trapped in the Great Dark and only magic more powerful than the elves can free her. He must make for Ashardon. Only Dralcarnus can help now, and from there to where-ever Quenqurial can be found. Mounting his horse, Elias takes one last look around him. He knows that he won’t be returning to Uris, as far as being one of the Chosen, his adventures are over. He spurs his horse and rides off into the night. On the dresser in the lounge he has left a letter to his wife. It reads:

Sharday, 19 Mizzle Month 204

When it is obvious that Elias did not return to the White Suite last night, Nicos attempts to scry for him, but has no success. Before their meeting with the count, Arvan, Ravenna and Raza visit Aylisha in the dungeons. “I felt the king awake,” she says solemnly. There is very little time. You may not even have a day. But his will is strong. You can depend upon him.” Aylisha seems more agitated than they have ever seen her. She is pacing her cell and seems as though she wishes to be elsewhere.

After the interview with Aylisha, the trio obey the summons from Count Kristus. They are taken by Captain Orthus. Arvan is surprised that Orthus is allying himselkf with Galahyde so openly. They are shown into an elegant suite in the palace with a deep and comfortable sofa. Kristus smiles warmly at them and offers them a seat. Gaston is also present. The archwizard seems perpetually angry and stares daggers at Raza.

“The fact is,” says Kristus lazily, “that the king has not declared an heir. The Council of Peers and the Enclave will undoubtedly decide for Galahyde DeMonton. He will be the next king. Now is the time to register your allegiance to him. Declare that allegiance now to me, as Gaston has done. I will be candid with you. The Chosen of Narramac are seen as steadfast allies of King Yaddagon and Chmaberlain Alberdark. If you do not declare for Galahyde, you may be considered traitors by him. Save yourselves and do what is right.”

“I’m surprised you’d want Galahyde as king,” says Raza to Gaston. “What do you mean?” mumbles the archwizard. “Well,” the monk continues, “I thought you wanted to be your own man. Narramac is dead, but you’re alive. You’re not in his shadow any more, you can achieve anything. But when Galahyde becomes king, he’ll bring Mínaris with him. Do you think that he’ll let you remain archwizard? Do you think you’ll be anything other than a servant to Mínaris?”

Kristus laughs. “You cannot influence Gaston,” he says assuredly. However, Gaston’s face may prove Kristus’s confidence is misplaced. He is livid. Without saying anything Gaston storms from the room. Ravenna gives Raza a ‘you-couldn’t-resist-stirring’ look.

Arvan is more politic than Raza. The legacy of the Blade of Hope has given him a silver tongue. Basically, the druid is stalling for time. Arvan says that he will have to confer with all the members of the Chosen before accepting Kristus’s offer. “Do not take too long to decide,” says the count as they leave. “The offer of friendship will not be extended indefinitely. You will have to decided whose side you are on. And you will have to decide soon. I would rather work with you, but needs must when the Dark One drives.”

But how could Arvan consult everyone even if it was his plan. As he, Raza and Ravenna return to the White Suite for a spot of breakfast before visiting the king, Nicos and Brack are off down the nearest pub. And as for Elias, he is on the north road, heading to Ashardon. They have divided themselves at the worse possible time.

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