Chapter 4: Marked for Death Pt 1

The war drums had begun at dawn.

Stalking quietly the corridors of the ancient fortress, Narab carried a
witchlight to illumine his way. As he approached the doors to the Great Hall,
two Moredhel guards dressed in full battle regalia stood away. They made no
sound as he whisked past nor blinked at the sight of him.
	"Greetings, Narab," a cold voice called from the throne. "It has long
been since I have seen your face in Sar- Sargoth. Have you grown bolder or more
the fool?"
	Narab knelt at the base of the throne and kissed Delekhan's foot. "That
is for you to decide. If my words are not to your liking, then my life is
yours."
	"It is already mine." Delekhan's wolfish eyes blazed in the darkness.
"Speak," he commanded.
	"I have just returned from a journey into the Kingdom. I bring a prize."
	"I have no interest in valueless baubles."
	"This is no bauble," Narab said, cutting off Delekhan, "and I think you
will find it is of great value."
	"And would it have name, this thing?"
	"Yes, my lord. Its name is Gorath!" Narab sneered pridefully as he
awaited his leader's praise, awaited the words that would restore his place in
Moredhel favor and rescind the order of death on his head. Perhaps he would even
have a place among the new lords...
	Delekhan lunged from his throne, his razor edged gauntlet tilling a
bloody seam across Narab's face as he lashed him backwards.
	"You've wrecked everything, you dog!" Delekhan bellowed.
	"But... I have brought back the enemy of the Northlands!" Narab
sputtered, blood dripping from his torn lips. "With Gorath captive we can
proceed with our... "
	"You... know... nothing!"
	Narab retreated, suddenly aware that his efforts were wasted, that his
oath of loyalty meant nothing to his hateful lord. Resolutely he stifled a flash
of pain as the Moredhel leader thundered towards the doors.
	"And what of my life?" Narab whispered.
	Halting, Delekhan turned and hissed, "It is forfeit!"

Owyn didn't want to be awake.
	Perhaps it was the drugs they had given him or the endless walking that
he'd done in the past month and a half. All he could think about was sleeping
now, that restful non-existence that interrupted the beatings and the hauling
and the exhaustion. He just wanted to sleep but that irritating jangle wouldn't
let him. Where was it coming from?
	"Gorath?" Owyn asked. "Are you there?"
	Suddenly the jangle rattled louder, this time accompanied by a loud
creak and a flood of torch light as bright as the sun. Out of that glowing
corona lumbered the largest Moredhel he had yet seen...

DELEKHAN:
I see my assistants have been overzealous in their efforts to sedate you! It is
proper to tremble when you are addressed by Delekhan, leader of the unified
tribes of the Northlands!

DELEKHAN:
We found this among your things, Kingdom dog. Tell me where you were going with
it!

OWYN:
We weren't taking it anywhere. We just picked up everything we could and ran. We
needed gold...

DELEKHAN:
A lie! The seal that the Nighthawks use for our messages was broken. The new
writing at the bottom of the page confirms your guilt. What does Gabot's Folly
mean? Who are Arthur and Jimmy the Hand?

OWYN:
I really have no idea. Someone else must have beaten us to it and opened the
scroll before we got there. We took what we found and left before we got nabbed.
Do you want us to cut you in on the booty?

DELEKHAN:
What I want is information! Your companion Gorath damns you as certainly as your
lie does. Until he betrayed his own, he was second in power only to me. He shall
die for his disloyalty.

DELEKHAN:
Since you choose to remain silent, I shall have your tongue and feed it to my
rats. Have back your message, spy. It will do you little good in your grave.

Delekhan stalked away.

Still rattled by his interrogation, Owyn tried to collect his fuzz coated
thoughts into a coherent whole. Thankfully, his wits had provided the lies as
needed, but only narrowly had he avoided the impulse to tell everything he knew.
It was almost as if he was being prodded, coerced, bewitched...

Magic?

Astonished he had been unaware of it at the time, the boy looked again at the
bulky warrior who now stood whispering over Gorath's limp form. At first he
believed Delekhan was incanting a spell, one perhaps intended to coerce the
truth from his victim, but after a few moments it became clear the warlord was
conversing with his barely conscious friend.
	"No!" Gorath croaked, shaking his head.
	"... plans... unfulfilled," Delekhan whispered finally. Abruptly he
struck...

	It was too much to absorb.
	Even if the events unfurling before him weren't openly damning, Owyn had
seen enough to keep him swimming in a sea of doubts, all of them centering on
the loyalty of his friend and traveling companion. Worse still, he had to
deliver the message to Prince Arutha outside the Dimwood and he would need
Gorath's help to do it. Desperately he wished he had time to sort things out,
but time was the one commodity he didn't have.
	"Enjoy your deaths. I know I shall." Delekhan's scratchy voice snatched
Owyn out of his thoughts, directed his attention to where the Moredhel stood in
the doorway gesturing to someone in the dungeon corridor. From nowhere a
monolithic door swung into place and once again the room was a land of shadows.
	Experimentally, Owyn struck the bars of his cage, knowing full well the
corroded structure was too solid to yield. But even as his fingertips came away
from the metal, the bars began a keening vibration, the iron harmonies evocative
of distant temple bells.
	Someone was working magic... and it wasn't him.
	Owyn wasted no time.

Later, he could debate to his heart's content about who it was that had set them
free and what their reasons for doing so might be, but at the moment he had no
thought in him but finding a means to get them out of the darkened cell alive.
Hurrying to Gorath, he freed him of his iron manacles and allowed the Moredhel
to lean against his shoulder as they limped together towards the heavy dungeon
door. Again, tugging at the handle, they found that the lock was undone, another
gift from their unknown benefactor.
	"What about the guard?" Owyn whispered, allowing Gorath to stand once
more on his own.
	Gorath lifted his head and spoke, his speech still slurred by the drugs
that had been administered to them. "Keep moving," he said, waving a hand at the
door. "No one is there."
	Pushing out the door, they found themselves confronting a wide hallway
with passages leading in three other directions...

		Meeting Finn south of the Inclindel Bridge

A man approached them.
	Still breathing heavily from their fight, Owyn barely managed to wave a
greeting at the Kingdom soldier who lumbered towards them.

FINN:
Boy, you're just about the luckiest whore's son I've ever laid eyes on.
If we hadn't of heard the commotion down the pass, I think those goblins would
have been having noble stew about now. Nearly took out your friend here until I
seen that he appeared to be fighting at your side. Now I don't know what you
think you're doing in the Northlands with these Moredhel.

OWYN:
It is very important that you take us to Prince Arutha.

FINN:
What?! The cold's gotten to you, boy. What makes you think I'm going to take
time off from my duties and trot your behind down to Krondor?

OWYN:
Prince Arutha isn't in Krondor. He's likely still stationed with his Krondorian
Lancers just outside of the Dimwood near Sethanon. We need you to escort us to
his camp.

FINN:
Why would he be there? And why would he want to see a boy and a Moredhel?

OWYN:
The Prince just sent us to spy on them, all right? They'd never suspect a
scrawny nineteen year old boy and a Moredhel, so... that's why he sent us. We
have information about a planned attack on the Kingdom and it's vital we get
this information to him.

FINN:
How do I know you're telling the truth?

OWYN:
You don't, but if you don't take us and the Moredhel overrun Northwarden, do you
really think you're going to be able to sleep with yourself?

FINN:
I have to give you one thing. If you're a gambler, you sure don't bid low...
Come on, let' s get moving. The Dimwood's hell and back from here and the Prince
won't want to be kept waiting. Let's move.

OWYN:
Just get us the hell out of here, Lieutenant. The sooner the better.

GORATH:
... evaded capture and at last we were intercepted by your guards in the
Inclindel Pass. The journey south to your camp here outside the Dimwood took
many long days but we moved with great haste as our message is vital.

ARUTHA:
Very interesting tale, but how do I know a word of it is true? How can I believe
that this scroll you have given me is the genuine article and not a forgery
trumped up by Delekhan?

ARUTHA:
I was very explicit with you before, Gorath. I refuse to act until I have word
from Seigneur James!

OWYN:
He told us to give you a message, but it's... odd, sire.

ARUTHA:
What exactly did he say?

OWYN:
He said to tell you that there's a party at mother's...

ARUTHA:
... and a good time will be had by all. Gods, Laurie and Jimmie used that phrase
years ago! All's right then! James has just saved the pair of you your necks and
me a good portion of grief.

ARUTHA:
Now I must settle down to the matter of finding out what Delekhan is thinking.
If this report is correct then the best force he could muster would number at
the most two thousand warriors, a pitiful spit in the eye for a castle assault.

GORATH:
You believe he has something else in mind.

ARUTHA:
Undoubtedly. As James indicated in his brief note, it would take some
spectacular strategy on Delekhan's part to take the castle, and honestly, he has
never displayed that kind of wit. We faced him before when he was still a field
captain for Murmandamus. Wherever he is going he will no doubt hit fast and run
for high ground. Now we have to establish where that high ground is.

GORATH:
Shall we accompany you to Northwarden?

ARUTHA:
No. I have a much more important task for you.