The Archer and the Mage
The Salty Seadog was crowded. It always was. Being one of the most beloved taverns in the Port of Murida there was always a steady stream of patrons from first light to last orders. If you needed to find someone, do a deal, make a sale, win a hand, the Seadog is where you went.
The room was dark, not so dark that you couldn’t see, but dark enough that anything you wanted to hide would remain hidden. The only light came from the roaring hearths at both ends of the spacious parlour, the small windows dotted along the sides didn’t do a damn thing. Perhaps there’d come a time when I wished for more privacy but right now I wanted to be seen. As I locked eyes with my opponent across the table I knew I had them in my grasp. A small smile curled on my lips. This would be easy, too easy that I almost felt bad. Almost.
I gazed around the room. All I could see were faces, the sneering faces of men. I loved being underestimated, it made the victory all that sweeter.
Both me and my challenger leant on the small wooden table, hands clasped together, eyes locked on each other in an intense stare. Our arms were perfectly still, neither wavered. My opponent was a burly seaman. On shore leave and with a purse full of coins. “My favourite type of sailor,” I whispered to him with a smirk.
He looked at me, slightly confused, his arrogance momentarily abandoned. I could see the cogs turning in his head, what’s this wench talking about? he’d be saying to himself about now, and that would be the perfect time to strike.
It would if I hadn’t seen something out of the corner of my eye. A ghost. Well not a real ghost, don’t be daft, everyone knows they mainly roam the Hollow Lands to the north of Evedor. No, this ghost was very much alive and he was peering at me through the many drunken faces pressed close. My guardian angel.
“Brant the Bruiser!” I exclaimed. “One second,” I added just as I subdued my challenger, sending his fist crashing into the tankards of ale placed precariously at the edge of the table.
I stood up in triumph as the crowd erupted in celebration and coins exchanged hands with reluctance. My adversary, in a fit of fury, jumped to his feet sending the table crashing away in rage. At his full height he would be a match for barely anyone in the tavern, least of all me, little Ryanne Myers, short and, for all appearances, deceivingly dainty. I did say I loved being underestimated.
In a flash, as the burly man strode forward, I swung one of my powerful arms, until it connected with his left temple. Like a switch being flipped the man fell with a thud where he stood. The crowd renewed their cheers. Jostling and dancing, they sent even more ale and coins spilling over the throng.
But I was unmoved by the jollity, my eyes were firmly locked with Brant’s. Then, like a tiger, I pounced, leaping over my fallen adversary and into Brant’s arms. As we embraced the crowd began to lose interest, dispersing back to their tables, accepting the fact their fun was most likely over for now.
“Well, this is a blast from the past,” I cried as we parted. “What’s it been, three years?”
Brant nodded, “About that, yeah.”
“What brings you all the way to Murida?” I said grabbing an unattended tankard of ale from a nearby table and taking a swig. “Last I heard you’d stayed on in the Queen’s Guard,” one look at his face and I knew something was wrong, my face fell. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Brant glanced over my shoulder I turned and watched two women walk towards us, “Best we find a quiet place to talk.”
Sobered up, I nodded and steered the three newcomers through the cramped interior to a booth in the far corner, currently occupied by three young sailors.
“Out!” I barked at them. About to argue, one elbowed the others and immediately they obliged. “My reputation precedes me,” I remarked as they left.
Once we’d all slid around the table Brant made the introductions, “This is Cassandra Hendry, captain of the-“
“The Amaranth,” I finished with a smile. “Hendry Merchants, yes I’ve heard all about you.”
“It seems my reputation precedes me also,” Cassandra replied casually.
“This,” Brant continued, motioning towards the second, much younger, woman, “you may recognise as Princess Adriana of Evedor.”
“No!” I said in shock, slamming my tankard on the table, slopping ale about them. I looked from Brant to Adriana and back again. “You’ve grown so much, last I saw you were half your size, how can it only have been three years?”
“And this is the finest archer in all of the realm, Ryanne Myers. Archer, member of the King’s Circle and now,” Brant paused looking to me for confirmation. “Mercenary for hire?”
“Let’s go with loveable rascal with a mean right-hook,” I corrected with a wink. “But what brings you all the way out to the Republic of Pirates?” I lowered my voice. “And why in the good graces did you think bringing a princess was a good idea? Do you know how many people in this very room would slit your throat to sell her for a few coins?”
“Let them try,” Adriana replied with a dangerous edge.
I smiled at that, unperturbed, “I like her. Still, you took a great risk coming here, it must be important.”
There was no way to pussyfoot around, I knew that much so from start to finish Brant recounted their journey from the castle to The Amaranth to here.
“I remembered your brother,” Brant said when he’d come to the end of their tale. “He was some sort of mage if I remember correctly, do you think he’d help?”
I hesitated, “In the last three years I’ve only seen Jayce once, when I first came to Murida. I sought him out but he turned me away, wanting to ‘live a life of solitude’ he said. I don’t know he’d be much help.”
“But you know where he is,” Adriana said, not a question but a statement.
I gave a small nod, “Last I’d heard he was in the old Hanging Tower out in the Esterie Mountains.”
Cassandra whistled at that, she knew something Brant and Adriana clearly didn’t.
Ignoring her Brant continued, “You’ll take us to him?” I could sense this whole mission hinged on my willingness to help.
I laughed, “I can certainly take you to The Hanging Tower but whether he’ll help is another story.”
“We have to try,” Adriana said. “The whole kingdom might depend on it.”
I considered her a moment then turned my attention to Cassandra, “And what’s your role in this Captain?”
“Let’s just say Hendry Merchant’s are guilty by association.”
“OK I’m intrigued, go on.”
“Soon the Queen’s Navy will be back and when they come they’ll reign all hellfire on this island, this fight involves us all now.”
“When will they come?” Brant asked, the last thing we’d want is to be away when the navy invaded, whether or not Adriana could control her powers would be useless if we were miles from port.
Cassandra thought a moment, “In fair weather, I’d say we have a week before they get here, repairs on The Amaranth will take a few days yet anyway.”
“The Esterie Mountains are tough,” I cut in, “could take a day or two, and we have to pass through the Canyon of Visions.”
“What’s that?” Adriana asked warily.
Cassandra answered, “Also known as ‘The Passage of Ghosts,’ it’s a mountain pass.”
I nodded in agreement, “The only way to get to The Hanging Tower is through this pass and beyond the burning skies.”
“Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all,” Brant commented.
“Oh come on Brant,” I said, grabbing his thick arm. “It’ll be like old times, remember the Quest of the Zircon Crux?”
Remembering that complete shambles of a mission he laughed, “How could I forget?”
“Then it’s settled,” I continued, ignoring my earlier hesitation now the promise of adventure had been all but guaranteed. “We leave at first light, if we’re quick about it we can make the pass by afternoon.”
“You don’t want to be caught in there come nightfall,” Cassandra added.
“You know you’re really selling this to me,” Brant grumbled. I could tell he was regretting this already. Some of the best missions were founded on mild regret, this boded well for the oncoming adventure.
Over the remainder of the night Cassandra brought maps from her ship and we plotted our journey through the Esterie Mountains and upwards through the Canyon of Visions to The Hanging Tower which just happened to be situated on the farthest and highest peak of all the mountains in the Esterie range.
Early the next morning just as light spilt into the harbour we awoke. When Brant came down into the parlour his three companions where already seated at the same table as the night before, “We ordered some breakfast before we head out, it’ll be a long day and we’ll need our strength,” I said as he took his seat.
We began making polite conversation as we waited on our food. Smelling the fried bacon and freshly baked bread I was ready to demolish everything in sight. Brant’s stomach grumbled its agreement as he caught sight of the first plates as they moved from the kitchen behind the bar, carried by the bustling middle-aged owner, Minna.
“Eat up dearies,” she said as she laid the plates in front of us. “Rumour has it you’re going up into the Esterie Mountains.”
Brant looked at me in shock, he clearly thought our mission would remain secret, and that if anyone was to say anything it was me. I smiled back.
“Oh calm down Brant, we’re all in this together,” I said, pasting butter all over a slice of bread, untroubled. “If we can’t trust the people of Murida then we have no hope of defeating the queen.”
“Aye, that old hoptoad,” Minna said as she set even more plates down on the table with a thud to reinforce her sentiment. “If she dares set foot on this island I’ll give her what for,” she said severely as she stormed off.
With a final run through over breakfast and a few last minute provisions given courtesy of Minna and The Salty Seadog we began our ascent into the Esterie Mountains.
The Port of Murida was surrounded by a dense forest, through this we trekked. After a few hours of steady climbing amongst the underbrush the landscape thinned out to jagged rock and barren tundra.
We were all silent, concentrating and preserving our energy. Cassandra estimated it would be many hours before we reached the mountain pass. Progress seemed slow until we broke for lunch what seemed like days later. Turning to observe the way we’d come I could see the surprise on Brant and Adriana’s faces seeing how far up we really were. The climb was certainly deceiving. The small port town was just visible below the line of trees and looking straight out all that could be seen was ocean. A vast ocean that could have extended all the way to the end of the earth.
“The Hanging Tower,” Adriana said as she grabbed some fruit from the provisions. “That’s a strange name for a tower, I take it there’s a story there?”
Cassandra nodded as she took a bite of her cheese and bread, “Not a pretty one, obviously, but many years ago, back when Evedor’s territory extended all the way to the Murida Islands The Hanging Tower was so named because that was the site of many executions for anyone found to be using magic.” she said with a look of sympathy to the princess. “This whole island, in fact, originally functioned as a penal colony,” she continued, sweeping a hand over the land around us. “Prisoners were exiled to the island to separate them from the general population while they either served out their sentence or awaited execution.”
“So much pain and suffering,” Adriana said quietly.
Cassandra nodded as she took another bite, “Naturally the prisoners fought back, realising there were enough of them to overpower any sentries located on the island. After a long civil war the Republic of Pirates was born.”
“And you’ve always lived on Murida?”
“Born and raised,” she said proudly though she didn’t elaborate, I’d heard stories of the feared Captain Hendry, there was a darker story there but now wasn’t the time. Cassandra, having finished her meal, stood up, “We should keep moving, we still have a way to go.”
Solidly we walked the steep track, climbing the rough terrain, over boulders and through the rubble of past landslides. As expected we were alone on the mountain, with not even any signs of previous human intrusion it was as if we were the first ones to ever make this journey. However, we knew we were not the first, that many people had travelled this road before us, most of them to their death.
It was desolate and bleak. Although we travelled together you couldn’t help but feel utterly alone. I couldn’t even imagine how those prisoners would have felt many years ago as they made this same journey, knowing their journey would end in their execution.
Twilight was just setting in as we made our final approach towards the canyon. The sun shone its pink and orange light against the rock faces in front of us.
“This is it,” I said. “The Canyon of Visions.”
Brant moved from behind me to get a good look at it himself, see what all the fuss was about.
“Is that natural?” Brant asked as he gazed at the dense wall of impenetrable mist.
“I don’t think so,” Adriana said, walking forward so that her arm disappeared within the blanket of fog. She pulled it back, “It feels strange, I can’t explain it. I can just feel something peculiar.”
Brant, transfixed by the mist, said, “And this is the only way to The Hanging Tower, you say?”
“Unfortunately so old friend,” I replied, stepping forward with Cassandra.
“Weapons out then,” Brant said, unsheathing both arming swords. I retrieved the bow from my back along with a quiver of arrows. Cassandra withdrew a cutlass from her belt. Adriana stood with her hands outstretched.
She concentrated for a moment, her fingers moved through the mist as if trying to grab at something. As the seconds passed she withdrew her hand and shook her head, “I can’t clear it, but whatever it is it definitely isn’t natural.”
Brant nodded to the rest of our group, “slow and steady, keep each other in view, if you can.” we all nodded our agreement. “If not make sure you use your voice to signal the rest of us of your position.”
“Just like the Siege of Burning Hill,” I said, though the playful edge to my voice was gone now.
In silence we moved off, the mist swallowing us whole. Although we were side by side, turning I saw no one. I was enveloped in thick white cloud. Gently I moved my bow through the fog, it touched nothing.
“Brant?” I called. “Princess? Cas?” nothing. There was utter silence, even my footsteps on the loose stones made no sound. As I continued walking I began to hear voices. Whispers, though it was hard to make out. “Brant, is that you?” I called once more. Still nothing but whispers persisted.
Up ahead the fog shifted to reveal a cloaked figure. Although I knew it wasn’t one of my party I ran towards them. Perhaps it was one of the fabled ghosts which haunted this passage. As I neared them I called out once more, still the whispers continued but the figure didn’t stir.
As I put a hand on their shoulder they turned to face me. Wearing a helmet and a full suit of armour I recognised it instantly; they were a member of the King’s Circle.
“Benjamin?” I whispered. It couldn’t be, though the insignia on his breastplate was unmistakable. Benjamin Everard had been dead four years past. Yet the insignia, the figure’s general height and stature, it had to be him.
Tentatively I reached out and touched his helmet. As my hand touched the cool metal immediately it began to melt away, revealing the face of my friend.
“Benj!” I exclaimed, but as my echo was lost in the fog his face changed. Decomposing at an unnatural rate until all that was left was a skull. Appalled I took a step back, “What is this?” I asked him, knowing he wouldn’t answer. Was it a trick of the mind? Or was this someone else’s doing? I heard stories of the Canyon of Visions but felt I’d be stronger than most, impervious to the tricks and apparitions cursed to walk this canyon. Evidently not.
“This is what you did to me,” the figure said, though the voice was all around me, in my head. Pointing a gauntleted hand towards me I tried to back away. My foot caught a large boulder. Losing my balance I fell to the ground, but still the figure advanced.
“You think you escaped your guilt,” the vision continued. “You only buried it deep within, you can’t escape it now.”
I couldn’t argue, the fright had robbed me of my voice. I tried to plead with the figure, but no words would come. I wanted to tell Benjamin how badly I felt over his death, how the guilt had been so deep and so vivid it had broken me. I wanted to tell him how I wished I could have saved him, how I would have done anything to take his place, how bitterly he was missed. But all I could do was stare at him in anguish.
The figure, as if listening to my inner thoughts, only laughed, “While I’m glad to know the pain and misery you felt over my death, it does nothing to absolve you of your sins. One day soon I shall have my vengeance, and when that day comes there will be nothing you can do to stop me.”
I cried out, wanting it to stop, wanting the pain and the voices to disappear, but still they came. The whispers of doubt, the provoking of guilt; it overpowered my senses, left me feeling helpless and weak.
How long I sat on the hard ground I couldn’t say. After a time Benj dissipated back into the mist and I was left alone with my guilt. Eventually the fog shifted and another figure materialised. Afraid of who this next apparition would be I drew an arrow, knocked it and aimed squarely for their chest.
With a jolt they touched my shoulder, I could hear voices, but they sounded muffled, far away. Then a hand grasped mine and lowered the bow. As I opened my eyes I saw Adriana. With a look of concern she grabbed my arm and tried to move me. How could I be sure she was real? Perhaps it was a cruel trick. Lull me into a false sense of security before the next wave of guilt and revenge. I resisted her pull, I wouldn’t be caught off guard again.
“Ryanne!” she called. “It’s me, Adriana, we need to get you out of the fog, Cassandra is waiting, come on!”
Still I didn’t move. It sure sounded like the princess, looked like her, but how could I be sure? This fog seemed to play very believable tricks on the mind.
Frustrated she let go of me, putting her hands on her hips, “I don’t know what’s gotten into all of you,” she fumed. “We need to get out of here, fat lot of good you’ll be sitting here stewing.”
“Is it actually you?” I whispered, so quietly I wasn’t sure she’d heard.
“Yes it’s me!” she cried, moving closer once again. “Who else would it be?” without waiting for an answer she grabbed my arm once again, dragging me to my feet. “Come on, let’s get you out of this place.”
Resigned to my fate, whether it really was the princess or not, I let her guide me through the seemingly endless fog. Eventually we stepped through what seemed like another wall and immediately I was greeted with a clear view of the landscape before me; a twilight sky and jagged mountain peaks that stretched off into the distant haze.
I stopped, shocked we’d actually made it out. Turning around I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the wall of fog behind us.
Adriana went back into the mist as I tried to compose myself.
“You look exactly how I feel,” I said to a pale Cassandra, sitting on a boulder by the edge of the ridge.
“I mean, I’d heard stories,” she said. “But when you’re actually there, it’s a completely different story.”
She was right, how strange to be so enraptured by visions from the past, guilt you’d assumed you’d atoned for, how quickly the grief comes back.
“What happened in there?” Adriana asked us once she’d rescued Brant from the fog. Brant looked at us, he looked just as shaken; clearly the fog had played tricks on him as well. I wanted to ask him if he saw Benj but couldn’t bring myself to relive it once more.
“The less we talk about it the better,” Brant said darkly. “We need to keep moving, before we lose the light.”
“That’s the thing though,” Adriana said as he stormed past her. “We were in there for a while, an hour or two I’d guess, but the sun still hasn’t set, it should be night by now.”
Brant stopped and turned around, looking at the sky more closely. The princess was right, the sky hadn’t changed in all the time we’d been stuck in the canyon.
I shook my head, “Well whatever is going on in this cursed landscape let’s not hang around to find out.”
“Agreed,” Cassandra said, moving forward. “We should keep going.”
Subdued we moved on, leaving the horrors of the canyon behind us. As we continued up the mountain pass we came to a ridge. Still the sky hadn’t darkened, as if this region of the island was in perpetual twilight.
“There it is,” I said, pointing off into the distance.
They followed my hand and saw it for themselves. Onto of the closest peak stood a tower, as black as night it cut an imposing figure against the twilight sky.
“The Hanging Tower,” Brant confirmed.
“Beyond the burning skies,” Cassandra intoned.
* * * *
I felt it, like a siren call the power moved through my veins like lightning. Someone had entered the Canyon of Visions. No. Four people. I could sense each one as they were enveloped by the mist, I could feel each person’s torment, their remorse. They were strong though, warriors perhaps, except one. One had a different kind of strength. I could feel their energy, their magic. One was a sorcerer.
My interest was piqued you could say, still I wanted to be left alone regardless. But I was curious of their arrival. Three warriors and a sorcerer, what could they possibly be doing out here? Perhaps they were just lost, maybe I wasn’t their intended target at all. Though anyone who came this far surely knew of the history surrounding The Hanging Tower, it couldn’t be a coincidence.
I waited for them at the base of the tower, I would see their approach a few miles before they arrived. As I watched the group in the distance trek across the uneven landscape I thought I recognised one of them at least. The shock of red hair even at this distance was unmistakable.
“Ryanne,” I muttered with annoyance. What could she possibly be bothering me with now? I thought she’d gotten the message. For a moment I felt disappointment. With the addition of the sorcerer I thought perhaps they had come with news, maybe regarding the banishment of magic-users, hoping beyond hope our exile had finally ended. That could still be the case, but why my sister was involved I couldn’t say. So rather impatiently I waited for them to arrive at Hanging Tower.
“Hello brother,” Ryanne called as they climbed the last of the steep incline towards the tower a little while later.
Folding my arms I stood in front of the entrance, barring their way, “I told you I wished to be left alone.”
“Oh now, Jayce, don’t be like that,” she huffed as she doubled over, trying to catch her breath. “I thought a few years in isolation would have you clamouring for some company, look,” she said, turning to her companions. “I brought friends.”
“Yes I can see that,” I said through gritted teeth. “But my answer remains the same, go back the way you came, I’ll ensure the canyon gives you no trouble.”
“So that was you?” one of them said, a girl, probably about fifteen she must have been the one I sensed, the sorcerer, for she was by no means a warrior.
Although I didn’t wish to keep them here any longer, my curiosity got the better of me, “You, you have magic, I sensed it,” I pointed to her.
“That’s why we came,” another, a large gruff man, said. “We need your help.”
“Again, leave me be,” I said, unmoved. “Or else I’ll be forced to…”
“To what?” Ryanne said, putting her hands on her hips, challenging me. “Hex us?”
“I might,” I said defiantly, though we both knew I wouldn’t.
“You’d really put a curse on your future queen?” the last of the party said, a woman close to my age, she was attractive I had to admit, in a rugged sort of way.
“You’re not the queen!” I exclaimed. I knew of the queen regent and there was no way this woman was her, she was more rogue than royalty.
“Not her,” the young girl said, taking a tentative step forward. “Me, I’m Princess Adriana, and you seem to be the only one around here who can help me.”
“Yes well,” I said, indifferent. “That’s what happens when you traverse a largely uninhabited mountain range, there usually aren’t a lot of people around to help, but you have help,” I said, motioning to Ryanne and the others. “My sister may exasperate me most of the time but there is no finer archer, I’m sure she’s more than capable of assisting you in whatever endeavours you desire.”
“While I thank you for the vote of confidence,” Ryanne said with a smile, moving closer. “The help she needs is more supernatural.”
“Ah yes, your magic,” I said to the princess. “Well I’m not one for tutoring, I apologise for your wasted journey but my sister should have warned you I wish to be left alone.”
“Well I did try to tell them, brother, but the matter is quite urgent and you will help,” She said taking a forceful step forward.
“Is that so?” I replied as calmly as I could muster. Even though I could turn her into a rabbit at the drop of a hat she had a brilliant way of intimidating me so that even I forgot the power I held.
“It is,” she said simply.
“And why is that?”
“Because the fate of the realm, this girl’s life, depends on it.”
There weren’t for leaving. In the back of my mind I knew as soon as they came I would have to help. They wouldn’t have made this journey on a whim, and if my sister was telling the truth I couldn’t very well send them back the way they came.
Grudgingly I moved aside, allowing them access to the tower, “Fine I’ll help, but not because you bullied me into it.”
“Yes, yes, whatever you say, brother,” Ryanne said as she stalked past followed by her three cohorts.
Adriana, the last to pass me stopped, “Thank you for your help.”
“You know my sister, I don’t believe I had much of a choice.”
“Still I very much appreciate it-”
“Is there anything to eat in this godforsaken place? I’m famished,” Ryanne called from inside the tower.
Adrianna smiled, understanding the trouble I was to endure at the hands of my sister while they stayed. “Coming,” I yelled half-heartedly as I turned to follow them inside.
Although reluctant, I knew it was my duty to help this young sorceress, and if she was heir to the throne of Evedor that would bode well for our kind, for all magic-users in the kingdom. Perhaps our exile would be at an end once she ascended.
To be continued …