Chapter 8 - Dralius

by Adrian Sweeney - Approx 3117 words

The next few weeks flew by the weather was good and the ship seemed to rocket across the sea. The reached the coast of almost a week ago and had continued north past many cities and ports with no reason the stop at any of them. Mal stood on the deck most days watching the coast slowly roll past.

This morning was the same as every morning until Geoffrey had told Mal that today was the day they would arrive at Dralius. Or rather at its capital city Drakus, Mal had spent most of the morning pacing across the deck of the ship, much to the amusement of the crew, Most remembered their first time at sea and the knowledge that their destination was approaching always made them excitable.

As Mal approached Tarak for the third time on her pacing journey, Tarak who was one of the oldest members of the crew and someone that had been with Geoffrey’s crew from the beginning spoke up “Thar’s half a day to go Mal, if you keep pacing we will spring a leak”

Taken aback a little Mal broke into a smile as his words settled on her mind. “You’re right Tarak, my pacing back and forth is pointless”

As the city came into view one building stood out on the cliffs above the city. It’s tall spires reaching impossibly high as if trying to grab the clouds above. When Mal’s eyes settled on the spires, Fear and foreboding tingled up her spine.

“Geoffrey, we must get to that building as soon as possible or everything is lost.” Mal wasn’t sure why but the premonition that something was wrong sat heavily with her. The worry caused her to unconsciously place a hand on her expanding tummy.

“We will be in the harbour shortly and will make our way there first, my love” he replied seeing the look of worry on her face. Looking over to Grego, Geoffrey noticed that he was aware of her worry as well.

By the time they had finally docked and had been given permission by the Dockmaster to disembark, Mal was extremely tense.

Wearing her black leather armour that Cari had modified by replacing the front leather panel with softer material so that her baby wouldn’t be squeezed, but would leave all of the protection on her sides and back. Mal strode down the gangplank, Followed by Grego, Geoffrey and the Guardsmen.

“Dockmaster, if I may ask a couple of questions of you before you leave? The building on the cliffs what is it? and how would we get to it from here?” asked Mal.

“Err, Lady? That is the Magisterium of the Magi, you can follow that road out the north gate and it will take you to it.” He replied shocked by the outfit she wore.

Noticing his reaction, Mal gritted her teeth, saying “Thank you, sir” before turning and leading the group towards the road that would lead to the Magisterium.

It took nearly half an hour to get to the North gate the press of people in the city was so much and a further hour to climb the road to the Magisterium complex.

As they approached the walls of the Magisterium the smooth greys stone walls that seemed to have no gaps between the blocks started to tower higher and higher.

A simple wooden gate stood before them with a bell on a pedestal beside the gate. As the simple wooden gate was open Mal continued walking aware of the foreboding ill-feeling dragging her onwards. As they entered they crossed the threshold a barrier appeared after Mal had stepped through but before any of the others could continue.

The barrier had appeared so quickly that Geoffrey had been knocked to the ground in surprise. The Guards spun to cover all directions and drew their swords. Mal rushed to Geoffrey and without thinking passed through the barrier unhurt.

Helping Geoffrey up, Mal turned to examine the barrier that shimmered lightly in front of her. Grego banged his hand on the solid feeling barrier but when Mal reached forward to touch it. The barrier seemed to melt away from her fingers and allow her to stick her hand through.

“Stand down, I think it is just a protective measure, not an attack,” ordered Mal “It must just let magic-users through.” she continued.

As she spoke the feeling of foreboding escalated like a ghostly hand had grabbed her spine. “I can’t wait, It seems I must go on alone from here. I will try and send someone to let you know what is going on when I can.”

Pointing to the bell she continued, “Ring that maybe someone will come and let you through,” before taking a deep breath and stepping through the barrier. The sounds of their objections following her as she sprinted up the path in front of her. She hadn’t covered half the distance before the bell could be heard, peeling out for help.

Mal ignored the noise and rushed forward the memories of a dream surfaced, a corner here a step there. Each time a memory came to her she followed the image. Soon she was completely lost in the warren of corridors and passages, she raced past students and teachers alike not slowing for anyone.

Soon the noise of her passage was filtering through the whole complex as alarms started to sound. When she stepped out into one corridor a heavy set older gentleman cast a spell at her. Without time to call out for him to stop, she watched in fascination as his hands seemed to weave a pattern and she could see the filaments of the five elements been woven together. Her natural reaction to raise her hands to protect herself caused a ray of golden light almost like the threads that connected her to the rest of her men to spring forth from her hands and strike the pattern he was weaving shattering it. The shock of his spell being broken threw him to the ground.

As she passed him he lay in a heap on the ground, unconscious but breathing. She hurried on hoping the man wasn’t badly hurt. She had never had a spell broken before and thinking of him lying on the ground vulnerable like that made her hope never to experience it either.

Turning a corner onto another corridor the realisation that behind the door at the end was where her foreboding lay the dream memories flared in her mind she must save him. Racing the last few steps of the corridor she almost threw herself through the door, her sword seemed to flow from the scabbard and she engaged the man that stood over the body on the floor of the room.

Throwing the half-empty vial in his hands to the ground the man pulled the two black-handled knives from his belt, muttering “So much for a quiet kill” and set to work to kill the intruder that had just interrupted his work.

Mal only had a moment to glance at the man on the floor and register that he wasn’t moving before the assassin was on her, his feet seemed to flow across the floor almost in a dance.

Never having fought a knife fighter before Mal fought for her life, barely able to keep the blades from touching her skin. Hoping someone would come to her aid soon, Mal started to worry that this was the end. When she got a lucky strike on his wrist which caused him to drop one of his daggers, Mal pressed home the advantage and with newfound confidence went on the offensive. Soon he was covered in cuts, twisting her sword in mid-air she turned a slashing movement into a piercing moment with the tip of her sword piercing his throat and severing his spinal column.

Leaving the sword in his throat she didn’t waste any time trying to pull it out or to watch his body fall to the ground she knew he was dead. But rushed instead to the body of the man on the floor. When she got beside him she could see that he was still breathing abet shallowly.

Opening her sight she sent golden threads into him soon she saw that darkness was seeping through his body, “Poison,” she thought to herself as she delved deeper into him using her magic in a way that she had never thought of before. She wove her threads in a myriad of patterns dropping one on top of the other purely by instinct. Slowly the darkness in his body started to fade Mal pushed more energy into him than she had ever done before banishing the darkness until the last of it disappeared.

Lightheaded and dizzy Mal looked up from the man in front of her to see a large man in dark robes with purple trim, stride into the room. Seeing her kneeling over another magi he raised his hand, weaving a pattern with lightning speed his spell hit Mal and the last thing she saw before oblivion took her was men entering the room behind him.

Mal woke in a bed, her head spinning, trying to sit up only caused her to throw up, luckily she saw a bucket and was able to grab it to contain the contents of her stomach. Looking around at the bare white walls of the room the single wooden chair had seen better days a small window high on the wall let in some light. Finally being able to stand she grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself. The white wooden robe she wore was rough on her skin it left an ill feeling like it didn’t belong to her but why she felt this she didn’t know. Her head felt like she was swimming in fog nothing felt firm even the rough wood of the chair she held felt complete.

Staggering over to the door while holding on to the wall for support she tried the door but it wouldn’t budge. Banging on the door had no effect, hours passed and all she could do was to lie down on the bed and watch the square patch of sun travel across the wall. The worst thing was she could remember her name but not why she was here or any other information. The light from the window was starting to dim before she heard any noise from the other side of the door. Slowly the sound of footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer.

As the door opened the dim light from a small candle illuminated no more of the room than the face of a slightly plump woman with grey hair and kind eyes. She wore the same type of robe that Mal wore but had a light blue cassock over the robe.

“You’re awake? I didn’t expect you to be awake until tomorrow at the earliest?” said a female voice from behind the light.

“I’ve been awake all day. Why am I here?” asked Mal trying to shake the fog from her mind.

“You don’t remember?” replied the female voice the confusion evident in her voice.

“No, I don’t remember anything from before I woke up.”

“You attacked several members of the Magisterium and you were found over the unconscious body of one of the most senior Magi in the Order,” she stated while with her eyes she searched Mal’s face for any sign of emotion.

What she saw was shock, pure shock across this young girls face she couldn’t be more than sixteen summers, she had raced through the corridors of the Magisterium. From all accounts, the route she took was the most straight forward through the warren of corridors and passages. It was almost as if she knew the complex completely something that took most members of the order years to master. Even now with nearly a decade of time in the order she herself sometimes got turned around.

“I attacked someone, please tell me I didn’t hurt anyone?”

“Master Kilsilla is recovering from whatever you did to him and Master Willo only has a bump on his head and a nasty headache from when you shattered his spell. The reason that your door is locked is because of the man you killed. Also, the reason you are having trouble remembering things is that when the spell of binding was placed on you it warped in some way we currently don’t understand.”

“Killed?” the shock evidently clear on her voice.

“Yes, your trial is scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’ll send up some food shortly you must be hungry,” replied the woman stepping out of the room and closing the door, causing the room to dip back into shadows.

Mal huddled on the bed unable to believe that she had done the things that they said she did without remembering everything.

Geoffrey stood watching her run along the path until she turned a corner. Grego had grabbed the bell and was ringing it for all he was worth. He had only been ringing it for less than a minute when the sound of alarms going off inside the building could be heard. Banging his fist on the magical barrier, Geoffrey could do nothing but worry about it wife.

When Grego’s arm started to tire another took his place. It was almost a half-hour before the sound of alarms inside the Magisterium started to fade, the only sound was the bell tolling at the gate. Almost an hour had passed before a young man approached the gate.

As he approached the waiting group he spoke, “There will be no admittance,” grabbing the gate he started to close it.

“Please, my wife entered the Magisterium, I need to know if she is ok?” pleaded Geoffrey.

“Only one woman entered today, wait here,” he said before turning and running up the path.

Almost another hour passed before the man could be seen coming back, leading a man in black and over thirty guards. The man in black strode forward to stand at the barrier. As he got closer Geoffrey could see an old burn that ran across his throat and up the side of his neck almost reaching his left ear.

“I am Master Harkin, are you in league with the female magi that entered the Magisterium,” he asked looking directly at Geoffrey who was by his attire the leader of the group.

“I am Lord Geoffrey Swan from Caplo, I have come with my wife as a matter of urgency for the safety of everyone on this world, My wife entered as she felt a foreboding that someone was in danger. I apologise if we broke some rule to gain entrance but I assure you we meant no disrespect. Do you have any word of my wife the Lady Swan?” Asked Geoffrey trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

“Mmmm, it seems that we have several problems, First to enter these halls you must have some magical ability and since she is a female her magic must be bound to restrict her. Secondly, she attacked one of the Grand Masters and several of the Masters killing one. Before she could be defeated.”

“Defeated? Not dead?” the thought of her no longer being by his side nearly broke his heart.

“No, she was captured, her trial will be tomorrow, if found guilty she will I’m afraid, be executed for her crimes.”

Cries of No! from Geoffrey and his party erupted at the mention of her possible death.

“You can’t do this she meant no harm.” Yelled Geoffrey.

“The meaning of her actions mean nothing, it is the effect of them that matters. Now leave before we make you leave,” replied Master Harkin, the look he threw Geoffrey told him that Master Harkin eagerly wanted him to do something. He studied Geoffrey for a moment before turning and walking back up the path, the gate slowly closed behind him leaving the group to stand there staring at the now-closed gate.

Seeing everyone watching him waiting to see what his next order would be. Geoffrey looked to the group “We will go to the city and see if we can get an audience with the king, maybe he can intercede for us.”

Turning the group walked back to the city below now the view was not so friendly. The group walked in almost complete silence only the scuff of their boots on the rough stone road told of there passing. As they approached the gate Geoffrey made a beeline for one of the guards as the party approached the guard became aware of them and turned to them.

“Excuse me, could you tell us how to get to get to the castle and what the name of the chamberlain is?” asked Geoffrey.

“Certainly good sir, take that road there when you come to a herbalist store take the next right and continue up that road to the castle gate. Ask one of the guards at the gate to send a message to Chamberlain Maddoc,” he replied.

“My thanks to you,” replied Geoffrey before leading the party up the road.

A few minutes later they found the herbalist shop and could see the castle in the distance. The hope of finding help lent a spring to the step.

As the approached the gate of the castle they had to wait their turn to gain entrance. Eventually, after nearly half an hour they approached the front of the queue. The guard his polished breastplate gleaming in the sun was quite the contrast to the red cloak he wore.

“State your business.” Said the guard in a bored tone that spoke volumes to the number of times he had asked the question today.

“I am Lord Swan, from Caplo, I have come to speak with Chamberlain Maddoc and to pay my respects the royal family.”

“I will have the page here take you to the chamberlain, your men will have to wait at one of the local taverns.” Replied the guard gesturing to a page who stepped forward and bowed to Geoffrey.

“My Lord, I am Jackson,” said the page “when you are ready.”

Turning to the guard, Geoffrey asked “Is there a tavern close by that you would recommend”

“Yes, my lord my brother in law owns a tavern two streets over called the Maidens hand. The food is good and the beds are clean” replied the guard.

“My thanks,” turning to the party “Grego, take the men and go to this tavern I will meet you there.”

Nodding Grego turned and led the group towards where the guard had indicated. Geoffrey turned nodded to the page you led him into the castle.

The page led Geoffrey through the castle eventually stopping in from of a large wooden door. Knocking lightly the page patiently waited for the command to enter. Before opening the door and stepping into the room.

“My Lord Chamberlain, Lord Geoffrey Swan of Caplo seeks an audience,” said Jackson.

“Very well then let him in,” came a tired voice from within the room.

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