The ride to the White Bull Tavern was twice as far as the trip from the Shadow Cult forest to Theterm’s keep. Dack knew that because he was given a map by the Brotherhood that detailed all important roads, landmarks, and towns. He was told that the wall surrounding the Central Territory was open in many places, but was built to guard against Lucan’s minions that were left lurking in the forests. Dack knew that those living in the Central Territory, including himself and Theterm, were loyal to no king.
Dack’s mind recalled those who claimed that the Central Territory already had a king. Was that something the Brotherhood knew about? Maybe he would mention it when he met them at the tavern. The more Dack experienced life outside his small bubble, the less he liked it. He knew, however, that it was too late to go back. It would be impossible to unlearn what had so recently been revealed to him, and he would have it no other way.
Touching the raised mark on the back of his neck assured Dack that he was something more than human, but less than his forest brethren. He wanted to tell someone, but remembered that Theterm said he would and chuckled to himself. Theterm must know me better than I know myself even now, Dack thought as he urged his horse through the forest.
What does Theterm really think I’m capable of doing? Dack thought. I know I can help, but what does Theterm really expect I can do? Dack sighed heavily, wishing Theterm would have told him plainly what was on his mind and what he had planned. I deserve that now that I am a man, Dack thought to himself, slightly unsure that he was.
The Brotherhood must know about my father and mother, Dack began thinking after riding many miles in quiet reflection. At least they know that Theterm sent me to deliver their message before I was to meet with them. How much do they know about me, and how long have they known? It frustrated him that all those around him probably knew more about his true identity than he did. Will the Brotherhood act like all the other humans and hate me because I’m Shadow Cult and grudgingly work with me just to get their way? Dack was not sure what to do or who to trust; however, as soon as he stopped thinking, he was sure to fall. His thoughts were private; no one could take them away. They were his, and he hoped that when it really mattered he could trust himself to do the right thing.
Dack slowed his horse to conserve its energy for the long ride. The Brotherhood had told him to arrive at the White Bull as the sun was setting, so Dack would have to spend a good portion of the coming day waiting in the forest. He was used to spending time alone surrounded by thick woods, but these were unfamiliar and much quieter than those where he was raised. Things were changing as he approached the wall that had become a constant reminder of the human’s hatred for anything different from themselves. Since learning some of his forest people’s abilities, he could sense the subtle differences in everything around him. Just being able to ride on a new mount in strange settings at night was a rush to Dack.
His eyes were able to filter light better when he tried to see the road ahead by simple starlight. Other senses were heightened too; he just never knew that they were so sharp. The benefits of an otherworldly race were at his disposal all his life, and now he planned to use every opportunity to concentrate on learning all he could do. It took time and energy to hone the skills he had learned only days ago. By the time he was done helping the Brotherhood, Dack hoped he would have mastered the simple things he was taught so that he could go back to learn the other skills Orex had told him were his to discover upon his return. This made Dack happy and gave him something to look forward to, something he wanted to do without others paving the way first or compelling him by manipulating his options.
I really am important to the Brotherhood, but their mission doesn’t feel as important as it did before I met my kin, Dack thought. He noticed the sky brightening as the new day approached. What’s the difference to me if the humans kill each other? Dack stopped his horse and shook his head. He needed sleep desperately. He really did care about the situation, he was just pushing himself too hard while focusing his senses to their limits; both were taking their toll physically and mentally. He found a suitable shelter for his horse and himself and lay down for a much-needed rest.
Dack awoke many hours later completely refreshed and ready to finish his trip. He repacked his horse and set off again after a meager breakfast. The forest was beginning to thin, and Dack knew that it would be a few hours until the wall would be in sight. Looking skyward, he saw that it was earlier than he had first thought and would arrive early. No matter, Dack thought, I’ll just look around the Northern Territory before showing up at the White Bull Tavern.
Within an hour Dack had arrived at the wall. This was the first time he had seen the barrier the humans had forced the inhabitants of the Central Territory to build. Theterm had told him that the humans had enslaved as many of the creatures that Lucan brought through Ways as they could manage to control. With their unwilling help, the wall went up quickly, although it wasn’t built well. Many holes allowed people through, but it was good enough to give the kings time and advantage to stop any large forces. What the kings did not realize at the time was that once Lucan was removed from the war, his troops were quickly dealt with, leaving no rebel force. The wall was really a symbol that the humans wanted nothing to do with anything or anyone from outside Storality.
Dack found a spot near the place the Brotherhood said to cross into the Northern Territory; it would be safe for him to leave his horse while he was in the tavern. A small stream and plenty of grass were exactly what his exhausted animal needed. After scouting the area to ensure everything was safe, Dack ducked through a small hole that was wide enough for him, but only three feet tall. Hunching over, he was able to pass to the other side quickly. Although the wall was roughly twice as tall as Dack, it was only as thick as his height.
As Dack finished straightening himself and dusting off his clothes, a guard walked by and eyed him. Unsure of how to react, Dack did nothing, and the guard passed without incident. I must remember that I am no longer in the forest, free to do as I like, thought Dack as he watched the guard leaving, sword strapped to his side. Dack had been told to hide his dagger and not talk too much because he sounded like an outsider. The Brotherhood wanted nothing to go wrong, just like Theterm had planned Dack’s trip to the Shadow Cult.
Looking down the city street, Dack noticed the entrance to the tavern only a stone’s throw away. Since he found it so quickly, he decided to do a little walking in the other direction. Rounding a corner he could see a small castle in the distance. Theterm had told him this was the best-kept building in all of Storality. This was where the king of the Northern Territory lived and ruled. Dack could tell it was well guarded by the towers. An armed group of guards were coming from the castle toward Dack, so he decided it would be safer to wait in the tavern. A person standing in the middle of the street and staring into the distance during the late afternoon while everyone else was working would definitely draw attention, so Dack quickly retreated to the White Bull.
Opening the doors produced a pungent cloud that made Dack cough violently, achieving the opposite effect he had hoped for by entering the tavern. After a few deep breaths, he decided it was time to enter no matter how bad the odor. Smoke reduced the visibility of the interior, which was fine for blending into the native population, but Dack’s constant throat clearing and tearing eyes made him noticeable. He looked for a table away from the doors, but they were all taken except for a small booth next to the person responsible for producing the majority of the terrible fumes. Deciding it was best to stay out of the line of sight, Dack headed for the booth and sat with his back to the doors.
As his senses adjusted to the tavern, he began to look around and take in the decorations on the walls. Shortly after he had taken in the surroundings he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Casually looking over his shoulder, Dack saw a tall, thin man coming toward him with a tray under his arm. “What can I get you, sire?” asked the man in a bored tone.
“I’ve heard you have good cider here, I’ll take some of that.” The man’s eyes lit up as Dack spoke.
“You heard correctly, kind sir. May I ask who told you of our famous cider, if you don’t mind?”
Dack smiled and replied, “My brother told me about this place. I expect him here shortly. Could you let him know when he arrives?” asked Dack with a wink.
“Yes, sire, I’ll be glad to let him know. There’s nothing stronger than brotherhood, is there?” finished the waiter as he turned to leave.
Dack knew the waiter would tell the Brotherhood that he was in the tavern and wouldn’t have to wait much longer until his meaning. It was amusing for Dack to act covertly while everyone around was listening. Everyone had heard the conversation, but only Dack and the waiter grasped its true meaning. Hopefully the rest of the plans would go as smoothly.
While waiting for his contacts to show, Dack looked around at the patrons. It was obvious that Dack was much paler than some of the people, but his time outside in the forest made him blend better than someone like Orex would have. Even though Dack looked completely human, he felt like he was being stared at because he was different. The opposite was more likely since Dack could perceive subtle differences with his heightened senses when he chose.
Looking at the humans greeting one another and seeing how they were dressed seemed odd to Dack. In the forest he wore mostly greens and browns, while in this territory they wore many colors and patterns that Dack thought didn’t seem very natural. At least he had something to keep him busy while he waited.
While deep in his observations, two people covered in long tan robes entered the tavern and approached the bartender. After a small exchange, the waiter led the two over to Dack’s table and slipped away quietly.
“So, this is Theterm’s choice?” asked the shorter of the two.
“His name is Dack, Petrose,” said the taller one, removing her hood to reveal a full head of curly red hair, “and my name is Faith, Dack. May we sit down?”
Dack’s eyes didn’t deceive him, but he was shocked that Faith was female. “I was led to believe that the Brotherhood was just that, a group of men. I am sorry for staring,” Dack said sheepishly.
“We only let her in because of her red hair. We are ‘Scarlet,’ too, Dack,” said Petrose gruffly. He was joking, but his tone and mannerisms made Dack slightly nervous. The three relaxed and sat at the booth away from the crowd. “So, you are Theterm’s choice, then?” Petrose asked again.
Dack eyed Petrose angrily but decided that this might be some sort of test. After a few seconds, Dack replied, “I am Theterm’s son. If that makes me his choice, then sobeit, I am Theterm’s choice.” Dack grinned at Petrose, hoping he hadn’t noticed that he was gritting his teeth. Dack believed in the Scarlet Brotherhood’s mission to return Storality to its former way of life and government, but he wasn’t sure if all those in the group were nice people. Petrose, it seemed, had to be convinced, and Dack didn’t feel like playing his game, so Dack decided to let Faith steer the conversation.
“Were you able to deliver our message to Orex?” asked Faith.
“Yes, I have his pledge. When the time comes for the return of the King’s Tournament, he will help the Brotherhood in any way they have need in return for protection and justice when the humans hunt them for being different,” Dack answered as he watched for their reactions.
“Good,” said Petrose. “They won the war against Lucan’s armies. Great allies.” Petrose slapped Dack heartily on his back. “How did you do it? You are the first messenger in twenty years to ever come back alive. So, what’s your secret?”
Faith smiled and looked excitedly at Dack. “Yes, tell us,” she said earnestly, wanting to know.
Dack sat back in his chair. Didn’t Theterm tell them he was Shadow Cult? Was this another test, or was his parentage still a secret kept between his forest brothers, Theterm, and himself? Theterm told him he would tell others if he had the chance, and he was determined not to let them know unless it was required. “Theterm told me the words I needed to speak to gain an audience; he trained me how to avoid their snares in getting to Orex,” Dack said simply. “It was rather simple once I got to the king; he was quite willing to lend his aid.”
Faith looked at Petrose curiously. Dack knew that his extremely abbreviated story was not enough to satisfy their inquisitiveness. “So it was just a stroll in the woods for you, was it?” asked Petrose. Dack wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a joke or sarcasm.
“I am Theterm’s choice, am I not?” Dack answered quickly, hoping that would break the tension.
Faith burst out laughing. Petrose let the smallest smile quickly pass his lips before asking, “Theterm going to keep helping this time?”
“Petrose,” Faith interjected, “Theterm has always done the right thing in his time.”
“Seems to me that twenty years is a long time to wait for any tangible assistance,” Petrose said as he locked eyes with Dack. “I’ve lost too many friends to the Cult because Theterm wouldn’t give up his secrets. How many people does it take?” demanded Petrose, bringing his fist down violently on the table in front of Dack.
“Petrose, stop this, it’s not Dack’s fault. His father is helping now, that’s what matters.”
Dack unflinchingly responded by raising the index finger on his left hand. “It only takes one, Petrose. Me,” answered Dack, taking Petrose’s question out of context. “It only takes me to set things right with the Brotherhood’s support. I came here because Theterm told me it was the right time, and I agreed to help. No amount of table banging can bring back the dead. You will have to trust me and Theterm, as I will have to trust you and Faith.” Dack looked back and forth between Faith and Petrose as he spoke. “Theterm has always supported you by raising me to solve Storality’s problems. That is his level of support. Total. Complete.”
Petrose sat back, relaxing for the first time since his outburst. Faith smiled at Dack, who nodded for her to continue the conversation. “Has Theterm ever mentioned Ways or Lucan?” Faith asked.
Dack chuckled. “He has only mentioned them in passing when I press him, but I know less than you do. It was like getting a history lesson whenever I mentioned Lucan or had a question about the war. As for Ways, Theterm says I should let that topic die with Lucan.”
Faith looked upset, but asked, “Do you feel comfortable working with us to reestablish the King’s Tournament and end the tyranny of the current kings?”
“I feel fine with that mission. I never knew the old ways, but Theterm told me that it was like a golden age during the tournament years. Living in the Central Territory, I was sheltered from the situation, but now that I know there is a better way I am willing to do what it takes to return Storality to its roots,” Dack answered sincerely.
“That’s good to know, Dack,” replied Petrose. Faith nodded too. “The current king of the Northern Territory is stepping down because of poor health; he is planning a coronation celebration for his son. He is slightly younger than you, Dack, and would be on the throne for too long with no stopping him. It is the perfect time to seize the popular support and demand the return of the King’s Tournament.”
“Why not openly oppose the ceremony? Wouldn’t that get the people’s support quicker?” asked Dack.
“It would put the Scarlet Brotherhood in the open and endanger the people as well,” answered Faith. “Once the king is able to stop the Brotherhood, there is no other voice that would speak out against him. His armies would quickly round up the dissenters and use his power to make life worse.”
“Stealth and shadows are our best allies in winning this contest,” added Petrose. “The people, even many in the army, see the king as a symbol that cannot be challenged. As long as that mindset is in place, we have to work underground. What we propose is to play into that thinking by taking the king’s scepter before the ceremony. The scepter is another more-powerful symbol that the people see displayed whenever the king rules or speaks. Whoever has the scepter will get the people’s attention, at least for a moment.”
“And a moment is all we can hope for. If we could take the scepter without being detected, we could display it at the ceremony during the discovery of its absence. In the confusion one could arise and speak. We hoped you would be the mouthpiece for the Brotherhood, Dack,” said Faith, flashing her smile brightly.
“You want me to rally the people while the king’s army is filling me with arrows?” asked Dack, wondering what he had gotten himself into by coming to the tavern. “Are you serious?”
“There are already those faithful to the Brotherhood in the army. Many of the people support us now. It only takes a few people in a crowd to start a movement. We know that you will be heard. Your safety will be guaranteed. Even if our plans fail, you will live, unharmed,” Petrose promised.
“You are both serious, aren’t you?” asked Dack emphatically.
“Yes,” Faith said simply. Petrose nodded in agreement.
“Do you have the plans outlined? I will hear them before I give my answer,” said Dack, hoping the plan wasn’t something they hadn’t given much thought.
“That is fair,” said Petrose, reaching under his robe to remove a map that he spread on the table once he looked cautiously around the tavern. “This is the castle. Study it and you’ll be able to get in, retrieve the scepter, and escape without anyone knowing.”
Dack spun the map around so that he could read it easier. Surprisingly, the castle was not as complicated as he had thought it would be when he first saw the building. “So I just have to get to here,” he said, pointing at the map, “and then get out again?” Faith nodded.
“Faith will get you into the castle and out once you have the scepter. I will divert the guards with a group of others loyal to the Brotherhood,” Petrose said. “You won’t have to worry about the guards outside, just those walking around inside. We estimate there will be ten to twenty scattered throughout, but most will be scrambling around, trying to replace those who left their posts on the wall.”
“When do you plan to cause the diversion?” Dack asked.
“I will bring you into the castle in a wagon filled with vegetables around sundown tomorrow. That is the normal delivery time, so no one will search carefully. Petrose will give you and me time to get in and ready ourselves. Shortly after that, the diversion will begin. You will get in through the kitchen, get the scepter, and exit the same way. Since the castle will be in turmoil, no one will think to check us thoroughly,” Faith summarized.
“This step sounds easy enough. As long as the timing is right, I see no problem getting the scepter.” Dack smiled.
“You can keep the map until tomorrow night,” Petrose said as he rolled up the map, handing it to Dack. “While you are waiting, you can stay with Faith and me at our house.”
Dack looked at Faith and then again at Petrose. “You two are married?”
Petrose laughed heartily. “What, did you think we’re brother and sister?” Faith smiled as she slipped her hood on before standing. “Do you want to stay with us two old married people, Dack?” Petrose asked as he stood and put his arm around Faith.
“Sure, I have nowhere else to go. Will my horse be all right overnight?” asked Dack as he stood.
“If you left him where you entered the wall, there should be no problem. I’ll have someone check later just in case,” Petrose said as he motioned for the three of them to leave.
Dack, Petrose, and Faith left for the house surrounded by a modest plot of land. Numerous kinds of flowers, vegetables, and fruit trees added color to the otherwise dull landscape. Dack had never seen some of the varieties that grew so freely in the Northern Territory.
“Well,” said Faith, “this is our home. It’s not much, but we do all right.”
Looking around at the farm, Dack had a feeling that there was so much of life that he knew nothing about, but he had an honest interest in learning more once his mission was completed. “You have created beauty here,” was all Dack could say as he surveyed the well-kept gardens and grounds.
“It grows beautifully, we just take care of it,” Petrose replied as he stood next to Dack, pointing out different things to ensure none of the truly elegant sights were overlooked. “Why don’t you walk around while Faith and I get things prepared inside?” Petrose said as he patted Dack sharply on his back.
Dack nodded and walked around until it got almost too dark to see properly. He approached the house and entered slowly. In contrast to the outside, most things inside were unorganized and in poor condition. He knew that Petrose and Faith had very little but were willing to give up even that to regain fairness for everyone. As he eyed the modest accommodations, Dack suddenly became aware of the conditions in which others lived outside of his tightly sheltered life.
“Please, come over here and get something to eat,” urged Faith.
Dack sat and ate a meager meal consisting of mostly fruits and vegetables. The taste was bland but satisfying. “Thank you, both of you, for your hospitality,” Dack said after eating his fill.
“We can relax and talk before we prepare for tomorrow night,” Petrose suggested. The rest of the night was spent talking about Dack’s favorite experiences; it took hours to answer Faith’s and Petrose’s questions about the differences between life in the Central and Northern Territories. After the three became exhausted, they retired to tiny beds for a restful night.
The next day was spent in preparation and review of the castle layout. Petrose drilled Dack on how to get around the main portion of the castle, but the details were not so good when it came to the lower dungeons. Petrose assured Dack that if all things went as planned, he would be able to get in and out in less than ten minutes. How the guards would react to the diversion outside was not completely exact, but it should be enough to enable Dack to move freely without interference.
Faith prepared the cart for Dack’s entry. A false-bottomed barrel would be all the space available to him when the time came to enter the castle. Dack would be in the bottom portion while the top was to be filled with pickles. Even if the barrel was opened for examination, the guard would think it was full.
When the evening meal was finished, Petrose left to prepare his portion of the plan. While Faith and Dack were readying themselves, the sun began to dip slowly over the horizon. Dack smiled as he slipped into the barrel.
“Remember, when I thump the barrel three times it is safe for you to get out. You get the scepter, return it to the barrel, and we leave in the wagon with an empty pickle barrel,” Faith summarized. Dack nodded, smiled again, and folded himself into the cramped space just enough to close the door. Faith thumped three times, secured the barrel on the wagon, and headed off toward the castle.
After a few bumpy minutes, the cart stopped; Dack could hear muffled voices. The cart began again and stopped for good. More voices were heard, followed by lots of noise as the cart was being unloaded. When the barrel suddenly lifted, Dack pressed his body tightly to the sides so that he didn’t shift his weight. Moments later he was roughly placed down again. He could hear the liquid above him slapping the sides as it reacted to the rough treatment. A long silence was broken by three deep, echoing raps. Dack opened the barrel and stretched his legs.
“The guards have left to see what’s going on outside. Go now, Dack,” Faith said in a hushed voice.
Dack spun around to get his bearings and moved to the door that led from the kitchen to the main hallway. Faith and Petrose had provided him with an outfit worn by the kitchen workers, which would give him the ability to move around the first floor without anyone taking notice. Once he was upstairs, he would have to rely on his stealth to avoid the guards.
Slipping into the main hallway, Dack could see that many guards were heading outside quickly. Once they passed he walked up the steps and was on the second floor. Access to the third floor was down another long hallway and through a room at the end. As he approached the door, he heard people talking.
“They’re going to kill us all, you know that, don’t you?” asked a panicked voice.
“Nothing will get into this castle, I can assure you. They let those things breed unchecked, and this is what we have to expect. The king is useless, and his son is worse. It’s time for change, big change,” concluded another. Dack couldn’t hear much more, for the two on the other side of the door were moving away as they spoke.
So, it’s true. Even those in the king’s service despise him, thought Dack. Maybe this whole plan will work out as the Brotherhood hopes. Dack slipped through the door and up another smaller staircase. Just a few more rooms and he would be holding the scepter.
At the top of the stairs a pair of guards were talking in hushed voices about the situation outside. Dack waited until they moved down the hallway and out of sight. He had to get to the trophy room where the scepter was kept when it wasn’t being held by a majestic hand. Usually, at least one guard stood by the door, but not tonight, not while they feared the castle was under siege by the faceless hordes of the Central Territory. Dack wasn’t sure how this use of fear would help the tension between those who lived in the Central Territory and the Northern, but that problem could be addressed once he had the scepter safely away from the king.
It seemed that there had never been a squeakier door in all of Dack’s memory as he considered the noise produced by opening the thick wooden door. Looking both ways down the hallway revealed that no one had responded to the castle’s cry for help. As Dack peered into the dark room, he knew that he would have to light a lantern in order to quickly find the scepter in all the boxes and cases. He closed the door and felt for the lantern that Petrose told him would be there.
The wick was ready for Dack’s spark from the tinderbox that Faith had provided. Gentle light filled the room, casting strange shadows on the walls. Dack paused to look at his own shadow on the wall, thinking of how much he had enjoyed playing with Theterm around the campfires when he was younger. He smiled and proceeded to the case that held the golden symbol of kingly authority. Picking the lock and opening the lid revealed a wonderful piece of human craftsmanship. Dack had never seen such splendor as the light enhanced the sparkle of jewels, making him feel unworthy to even view such treasure.
It’s just a symbol, Dack tried to convince himself. I am as good as the next person. I could rule if I wanted. He held up the scepter and found it much lighter and dazzling as the lantern light bathed completely over it, casting colors around the room. “I want to rule,” Dack said aloud, watching his shadow grow larger and more ominous as he approached the wall.
“You will have to wait until you get out of the dungeons, thief,” said a deep voice, bringing Dack back from his imagining. “Put that down and step over here, little one. No one will get hurt if you do.”
Dack reacted without hesitation, forcing his rational thoughts out of his head as he threw the lantern at the guard. He reacted as would most when danger is hurtling closer in the form of fire; he tried to avoid contact. The guard hit the floor before the lantern did as Dack ran into him with all of his might.
“You will never take this from me,” Dack said to the unconscious guard as he hurried over his limp body. Dack didn’t consider the potential harm that could have resulted if the lantern’s fire had not gone out. To Dack nothing mattered anymore; he had to escape, and he was willing to do whatever it took to achieve that goal.
Another guard rushed down the hall toward him as he left the trophy room. “Stop!” demanded the guard as he unsheathed his sword, closing the distance. Dack ran down the hall toward the guard with the scepter held high. When the guard saw what Dack held, he looked puzzled and stopped. “What are you doing with that?” he said as Dack came to within striking distance.
“I am taking what is rightfully mine,” Dack said nonchalantly as he brought the scepter downward quickly. “I hope you don’t mind.” Looking down at the moaning guard holding his head in pain, Dack saw that a small jewel had fallen out. “See what you’ve made me do?” Dack asked, trying to make the guard feel bad. He picked up the jewel, pocketed it, and ran toward the stairs.
More guards were gathering at the bottom of the stairs, and Dack had to wait. He considered hiding the scepter and coming back for it later, but he felt he could outsmart the guards and get out of the castle. While waiting for the guards to leave, he heard one say that the king knew the raucous was a diversion and the Brotherhood was behind the elaborate plot. Dack knew that it would only be a matter of time before the guards began searching the castle.
“His spy in the Brotherhood said that . . .” was all Dack heard as the guards began to move away from the steps. Dack’s heart sank as he realized that he could not trust anyone anymore. How many people knew about tonight? he wondered. Did Petrose or Faith tell the king? Dack began to sweat as he stood waiting to descend the stairs. Fear rooted him to his spot. All his bravery left him as his head cleared. I will die here tonight, thought Dack.
He slowly descended the stairs, hoping to find his way clear. The guards had moved away, and Dack took the opportunity to run down the hallway to the main staircase to the first floor. No guards were in sight, so Dack took the time to secure the scepter to his belt and then hide it under the folds of the kitchen apron he was wearing. It was cumbersome, but if he was careful he could pass slowly down the stairs to the kitchen without drawing attention to himself. Guards were passing through the main hall but none were stopping. Dack casually descended the stairs and headed toward the kitchen door.
The excursion from kitchen to scepter and back had not taken as much time as the Brotherhood planned, so Dack was in no hurry. Opening the door revealed a happy Faith who was waiting nervously. “Did you get it?” asked Faith.
Dack eyed the area carefully and then removed the scepter. “A jewel was lost when I took out a guard,” Dack said sheepishly.
“The guards saw you with the scepter?” Faith asked nervously.
“Two, but I’m not sure how much they will remember,” Dack replied, smirking slightly.
Faith laughed and motioned for him to get into the barrel. As Dack moved toward the barrel, he figured it would be easier to place the scepter in first and then squeeze around it using the remaining room. He secured the scepter and tried to get in afterwards. The scepter was not as flexible as he was, and Dack found he couldn’t fit. As he bent over to remove the scepter, the kitchen door opened abruptly.
“There he is! That’s the one who hit me in the head,” said a guard, pointing at Dack. Since Dack had been bent over, it looked to the guards as if he was trying to hide behind the barrels, not in them. “Grab him!” shouted more guards, trying to push their way into the kitchen.
Seeing no way to escape with the scepter, Dack took off through the door to the castle courtyard. Faith acted scared, so the guards thought nothing of her being in the kitchen with a strange thief. If she was still there when they returned, she would have to answer many questions, so she waited until the rest of the guards filed out to seal up the barrel. At least we have the scepter, thought Faith. Dack’s sacrifice will not be in vain, I will see to that, she concluded as she began pulling the barrel toward the cart. It was heavy, but she was not a weak woman in any area of her life.
Dack reached the castle wall and began to climb, but his lead was not great. It was only seconds before his ankle was grabbed and he fell heavily to the ground. Many strong hands pulled and hit him, but just before he passed out he saw the cart leaving the castle. Even though he knew he had lost he had to smile anyway, for hope lived on if Faith could get the scepter away safely. He had done his part, Theterm would be proud.
Blackness gave way to faint light, which assured Dack he had lived through the ordeal; trying to sit up, though, produced terrible pain in numerous parts of his body. After a few moments he was able to determine that nothing was broken, but few things were left unbruised. A powerful fetid smell invaded his nose when he focused on determining where he was and why he was alive.
“Hey, that one you brought in has finally woken,” Dack heard from somewhere close. “You want to talk to him?” The voice was kind, but Dack knew that his intentions were not.
“He is to be taken to the king tomorrow. Leave him alone until then,” answered another voice. “Feed him if you must, but under no circumstances are you to unchain him. Too wiry, he would be free in no time, okay?”
“I understand,” were the last words Dack heard for a while. After sometime he was able to see that another shared his cell. A body was huddled in a ball and looked like it had been there for years. Dack made his way closer and noticed that it was waking up and rolling over toward him.
“Master, is that you? I sense your power, but only weakly,” said the creature in an almost unheard voice. “They said you were dead, but I never stopped hoping because I felt your power. Only thing they could do was blind me.” He pointed to his eyes. “I’m still a riddle to them.” He tried to laugh, but it sent him into a coughing fit.
“I came as soon as I could,” Dack said, trying to find out what the thing was talking about or if he was simply insane from such inhumane treatment.
“They are still searching for a way to unlock your secrets. They want the power too. Shame only you, I, and Theterm will ever know,” he managed to say before coughing again.
“Theterm? What does he know?” asked Dack, surprised that anyone would know of someone from the Central Territory.
It sat up quickly and reached for Dack. The chains saved him from the hands that were still flailing for his throat. “You are here to steal my memories. You have the power, too, but weakly, and will never get your chance to use it. You lack the knowledge, your ways are closed. I was a fool to speak, but now that I know who you are I will say no more,” the creature said loudly, regaining strength that he seemed not to have just mere moments ago.
“How do you know Theterm?” asked Dack emphatically. After no response, he knew that it was pointless to continue. As far as Dack was concerned, the thing was insane. “Well, good night to you then,” Dack said angrily. He knew he was to see the king tomorrow and needed his rest.
The king is the one who will decide if I live or die, Dack thought as he began to relax. I should tell him I’m his half brother, he thought sarcastically, but it started to make sense. What else did he have to lose? He spent the remainder of the night wondering how to use his relationship to the king to stay alive until he could escape.