Smoke and Iron

Chapter 6-Secrets in the Dark Continued

The doors swing open at our approach. Their massive frames open into the main hall of the palace. Inside tall black columns line the entrance, the white marble floor gleaming under the large gold chandelier overhead. The entrance opens up to a wide room connected to two large hallways on each side. Hallways leading to rooms, stairs, and many smaller passageways that wind through the palace. 

The wide open room is already filled with the many nobles of the court. All dressed in garish finery in satin, silk, and fur. The clothes in vibrants hues of orange, blue, green, purple, and red. Colors at odds with the dark wood panels of the walls. 

All of them chatter and talk like a hive of bees as servants slip in and out of the different groups of nobles. Offering tall thin glasses filled with wine, champagne, and exotic fruit juices placed on paper thin trays of silver. Across from the main doors is the entrance to the king's audience chamber. The tall ebony doors framed in gold, lead into the chamber. A chamber watched closely by the gathered crowd. Their eyes every now and then glance or stare at the dark doors. Waiting to see when they will open and invite in an unwilling guest.

As we come to a stop at the entrance a palace guard comes to great us. Unlike the Silver Guard who are dressed in shining silver, he is dressed in black and red cloth with shiny gold buttons on the front. The guard comes to a stop in front of us and bows to Talber. When he turns to me his face takes on a ghostly pallor. He quickly faces Talber and mutters out a slew of hurried words.

"Welcome to the palace Lord Talber you have arrived right on time," he says.

"The king will be very pleased to see you, come follow me my lord."

The guard turns and heads straight for the chamber doors. We follow him, boots thumping steadily across the polished marble floor. Heads turn as we head through the gathered assemblage. Eyes roam over us as we walk past as whispers erupt, peppering the air with hurried hushed voices. 

Men stare in wonder at Talber as he rarely comes to court choosing to stay in the Silver Quarter to oversee the growing number of soldiers. Women talk in low voices while hiding their faces behind fans of lace and silk. Their chatter though quiet is still an irritating sound.

I can feel their stares through my cloak making my skin prickle in annoyance. Closed behind their thick doors and iron gates of their manors I doubt they have seen a Reaper recently. In their bubbles of luxury and privilege they never see the actual cruelty of the real world. Seeing me has brought a truth of how cruel it can be. A truth that they hide themselves away from, inside their carefully tended gardens and lavish homes. 

Reaching the doors the guard knocks slowly on the dark wood. The doors open at once, though just enough for the guard, Tabler, and I to step through. Entering the room a host of memories comes back as I take in the white marble walls and black marble floor. 

Two large windows on the other side are draped with emerald curtains. Curtains that me and my mother would use to hide in while playing hide and seek. Several paintings hang from the walls depicting castles, gardens, parties, and mythic beasts. 

Each one with a story behind it. Stories that my mother would tell me when she snuck us into the room at night. By candlelight in a hushed voice she would regal me with tales of bravery, honor, and love. With her gone the sight of these paintings leaves my skin feeling chilled.

Thankfully the sound of a staff thumping against the floor clears my head of the memories. Memories that threatened to engulf me in the pain of my loss.

"Your Majesty," the herald begins, " may I present Lord Talber of Irongate, Captain of the Silver Guard."

The faces of the king and his gathered advisors turn their gazes to us. The advisors dressed in long silken robes of state, glare at us in contempt. Their assistants stare in shock while holding important papers and books that look too heavy for their skinny arms to support. The advisors are gathered round the royal dias. On the gold veined marble lays the throne made of pure crystal that shines so bright it hurts my eyes. Its occupant is none other than the king himself.

Dressed in black silk trousers and a shirt. A simple black cape draped behind him with a silver handled dagger attached to his belt. A crown of iron is placed on his head, small bits of red stone shine like fire in the dark metal. He is the last to look at our newly arrived forms. Resting his chin in his hand, his eyes take us in. Wasting no time he speaks in a commanding voice.

"Everyone leave," he says and points a finger at us. 

"Except you two."

The advisors, assistants, and guards head out of the side doors. The doors quickly close with hurried thumps. Us and the king are the only ones who  remain in the now quiet room. Turning his gaze back to us he motions us forward. Reaching the dias we bow before him. Beneath my hood I carfulley gaze at the man who doesn't even suspect that his own son now stands before him. With his ghastly pale skin and brown hair you would think that there is no possible way we could be related. 

A well trimmed beard outlines his strong face. His mouth as always is set in a thin stern line. A straight nose sets between his hawkish eyes. Eyes that are the same color as mine. A truth that I will never escape from.

"You summoned me my king," Talber says.

"Yes I did indeed summon you Captain," the king drawls. His voice filled with cold calculation.

"I hear you have found the best man to help with our little problem." 

He stands up from his chair and walks towards the edge of the dias. The sounds of his heavy boots beat a slow rhythm through my skull. 

Glancing up at him Talber replies, "Yes I have my king and he is our best at tracking down wanted criminals. Already he has brought over a hundred of them to justice. Saving the lives of countless citizens in the past few years of his service."

"Impressive," the king says, turning his calculating gaze on me as I hold back a shudder. A shudder of anger threatening to boil over at any second. 

"Is what he says true boy," the king coming to a stop in front of me.

"Yes my king," I say, trying not to choke on the words or the bile growing at the back of my throat.

"Well then," he says, "I guess our little problem will soon be solved."

The king turns on his heel and heads towards the throne. Instead of sitting down though, he turns back around to face us. A knowing smile spreads across his face, a smile sending a shiver of dread down my spine.

"But there is one more thing that I will need to know Captain," he drawls while slowly making his way towards me as he speaks.

"How can I reward this brave young man if he catches the thief when I don't know who he is."

The king stops in front of me, his stare pinning me to the ground.

"Who are you boy, who are you under that hood."

"A soldier who seeks to bring justice to those who have been harmed. A man that defends the honor of the kingdom with his life. That is who I am, my king."

"So show me the face of this honorable man or you can forget about being given a reward for your troubles," he says with menace.

I heave a sigh, "very well your majesty I shall."

I pull back my hood slowly, trying to delay the inevitable. I then untie the cord to my mask and when the knot releases I let the mask fall to the ground. A heavy silence fills the room as I stare definitely into his eyes. Eyes now filled with a naked hate equal to mine. 

"Does this please you, Your Majesty," I say without a shred of fear in my voice.

"Captain," he barks, "leave us."

Bowing his head Talber does as directed. The sound of his receding footsteps quickens my heart. The door shuts with a click leaving me alone with a very unhappy king.

"How dare you," he seethes, "how dare you defy me."

"After all I have done for you, after allowing you to galavant around the city catching wretched scoundrels for the past few years. Letting you disregard your duties so you can play hero for those ungrateful peasants without regard for your own life. Must I remind you where your values should lie."

"You don't have to remind me," I growl, standing up to face him as I force the words through clenched teeth.

"I know what they are but they are not mine, they are yours. They are your plans for me to follow as a ruler of a kingdom that would rather see me dead then alive. This future, this destiny that you want me to have is not what I want. I'd rather be a penniless wretch than a wealthy king."

"Don't forget dear father that according to the laws regarding the right of succession. That all who wish to claim the right to the throne must first live among the people. Which includes serving in the army. Serving the very people that you look down upon. If I could, I would continue to do just that until I die."

For a moment his eyes belay the fear that I know courses through him at the thought of his own son giving up such power. Power that will poison me if it gets the chance. It already has him in its t****l and I will not let it have me. Unfortunately the moment is fleeting and the fear is replaced with cold conniving calculation. It makes my blood run cold.

"So that is how it is," he says and huffs a laugh. 

"Unfortunately that will never happen as long as I live, but I can offer you an alternative if you agree to a deal."

I swallow thickly, deals especially from him are never without a high cost. A cost I am willing to pay if it means escaping this unwanted destiny that hangs above my head with every waking moment.

"Very well," I reply, "what are your terms."

The king smiles like a snake. A snake that has cornered its prey, waiting for the precise moment to strike.

"If you can find the Ghost I will allow you to serve for another six years. If you fail though the Captain will die and you will watch him hang. Then you will end your service as a Reaper and claim your birthright. There are also a few conditions to this deal. In three days you will turn eighteen and on that day I expect you to be here to claim yourself as my heir and to also have your quarry in chains. I believe that is reasonable enough don't you think."

"I don't really have a choice do I."

"Good now the wager is set. Remember three days or else, now leave my sight and send the Captain in. I have another important matter to discuss with him."

Turning his back to me he heads back to sit down on his throne. Taking that as my que I put back on my mask and hood while making my way to the side door. The same one where Talber no doubt has been listening closely the whole time. When I open the door my suspicion is confirmed. Closing the door I see that he has set up a chair beside it. 

"So how did it go," dry humor edged in his voice.

"Better than I expected but now he wants you so good luck," I reply.

Huffing a dry laugh he stands up from the chair and heads for the door behind me. 

"At least one of us has faith in me," he says as he clamps his hand on my shoulder.

"I sure will need it."

Heading into the room he closes the door behind him leaving me alone in the hall, or so I thought.

"Well,well, well, what do we have here," a voice whispers behind me. 

 The hair on my neck quickly stands on end. I turn around my hand on the hilt of my sword. My eyes widen in surprise at the hunched robed figure before me. The figure is a woman of at least eighty, her hands and face covered in wrinkles that form erie patterns across her brown skin. 

Draped in a purple silk dress and a blue robe. Fabric patterned with figures of peacocks and leopards. Her gray hair piled up in a simple knot that frames a smiling face around kind but mischievous purple eyes. Orla Draga, my father's royal oracle, has found me once again. I guess being able to see the future allows her to track my every move. Including knowing who I am beneath my mask and cloak.

That is one of the many annoying things about oracles, especially her. With their ability to see what will come it can be hard to surprise them. Not only that, they always have to speak in such cryptic tones when a vision catches a hold of them. A sight then sends chills down my spine when their eyes take on a fearsome glow. Even worse is that they are always right. Both good outcomes and bad, and few of them are good.

"Madame Orla," I begin, "lovely to see you again."

"Yes I suppose it is my prince," she says.

"But we both know that's a lie."

Stepping closer she looks at me up and down. Eyes filled with concentration as she picks apart at my form. They land on my pendant that has somehow found its way out from beneath my shirt. Carefully she reaches up to touch the old copper star and wraps her fingers around it ever so gently. 

"I see you still have this, I would have thought he had taken this from you," she drawls.

"He did but he isn't very bright when it comes to hiding what is not his," I answer solemnly.

Peering up at me with a steady gaze she replies with a small chuckle, "That we can both agree on."

Suddenly her arm tenses up and her grip on the pendant tightens. Her purple eyes begin to glow and her face takes on a ghostly pallor. Unable to do anything but stare into the endless pools of light, I hold steady with my arms pressed to my sides. A blast of icy wind sweeps through the hall, guttering the candles. Leaving us in the pitch black, the only source of light are Orla's eyes that shine like twin beacons in the dark.

The sound of beating drums fills the hall. Their slow steady thrumming doing little to calm my now frantic heart. The smell of lavender and saltwater fills my nostrils. Then the growing sound of murmuring voices fills the hall joining the increasing rhythm of the invisible drums. The voices grow louder and the mix of whispers and pleas begin to morph into words. Words that now begin to slip between Orla's lips.

"One of the sea, one of the land, will join their worlds hand and hand. One lost beneath the waves, another who will try to flee from fate. Both surrounded by sorrow and lies. Will send a ruler to their demise. Secrets they shall reveal and discover a power that others wish to steal. One of silver, one of ice. Must be willing to pay the price."

The voices grow with power as they repeat the chant. A chant that grows louder and louder till my ears ring with the sound. As swiftly as they come they leave. The pounding drums and swirling scents dissipate along with them. Candles flicker back to life illuminating the hall with their golden glow. Orla releases my pendant and faints. I swiftly catch her before her head meets the floor. I kneel on the floor gently holding her as she comes to.

Opening her eyes she gently rubs her hand against her forehead.

"That one was unexpected," she says sounding annoyed.

I huff a laugh, "None of them are expected Madame."

"Are you the Oracle," she hisses.

Sighing, I shake my head. She is always grouchy after a vision. Unlike her I still haven't shook off the chills from its ominous message.

"Then don't attempt to show that you have any knowledge about them. Now would you kindly help me back up. I have other things to do besides debate with you about the timing of visions."

I slowly help her up to her feet. Crossing my arms I watch as she brushes off the imaginary dust from her clothes. Spinning around she starts to make her way down the hall. She suddenly turns and fixes her gaze on me. One filled with unnerving intelligence. Knowing her she saw something else while under her trance. The thought makes me wary. Her eyes light up as if sensing my apprehension. Her mouth widening into a conspiratol smile. 

"If I were you young prince, I would be very wary of a girl with eyes like that. The old stories say that those with eyes of the sea can trap you into their thrall."

Damn, that girl and her eyes. It seems that I will never be rid of that image. All night I saw those same eyes taunting me while I slept. As Orla turns to leave she stops for a second time. While reaching into one of the pockets inside her robe.

"Oh and I almost forgot," she says while placing a small leather pouch into my hand.

"This should help with one of your problems, but next time you're on your own."

As she walks away I peer into the bag to check its contents. A ray of light catches the dark surface of a small dagger. A dagger made of fine pure obsidian.  A rush of air escapes me. Thank the gods now I don't have to worry about obtaining it. All I have to do now is give it to that conniving thief and pray that she won't let my identity be discovered.

The creaking sound of an opening door causes my body to still. Quickly closing the pouch I hurriedly tie the strings to my belt. For further measure I pull my cape around me to hide it from view.

Doors closing behind him, Talber enters that hall. His face shows no sign of emotion from his audience with the king. Though from the worry in his eyes I can see it wasn't good news. Motioning his head towards the door at the end of the hall, he starts to make his way to it. I follow quickly behind, the relief of leaving this place relaxes my tense muscles. The door leads us out to a small courtyard. A stone path leading to the back of the castle were our coach lies waiting for us.

Stepping back into the couch I settle myself against the window. The dull pain of a headache now begins to thrum against my skull. With a jolt the horses take off as they also are ready to be rid of this place. We head around to the entrance and thankfully pass through the gates with no incident. The drive goes by swiftly, my eyes barely registering the site of the Reaper Quarters as we stop in front of the building.

As I descend from the coach, Tabler's voice reaches my ear.

"Remember what is at stake if you don't catch him."

"I will and don't worry, I will find your Ghost and bring him to you in chains."

I head back into the building closing the door behind me as I make my way into the room. In the center of the room are small leather chairs surrounding a low table. A gray rug is placed on the floor with an Iron chandelier above. Bookcases line the walls, cases filled with slim leather bound volumes in shades of black, red, and brown. 

Heading towards the nearest one I skim my fingers across the neatly placed books. I stop when they reach a book bound in black leather. Its spine etched in silver with the words, "The Book Of Ravens", neatly stamped into the leather. 

I pull the book slowly out until I hear a soft click and then the rumble of tumblers turning. I watch as the shelves move back revealing a dark passage illuminated by a single iron torch. Stone steps lead down into a seemingly endless chasm. A small smile erupts on my face. My anger dissipates as I slowly make my way down the steps. 

The shelves lock back into place leaving me with only the torch as my source of light. Taking it into my grasp I descend into the murky abyss. The darkness fills me with a sense of peace and welcome. Unlike the darkness of the palace where every hall and room is filled with its cold embrace. This darkness filled with the scent of earth and warm stone is where I truly belong.

The stairs come to an end where a brass door lies embedded into the wall. Setting the torch into an empty holder, I make my way to the door. The sound of metal on metal and the scrape of boots on stone, emanates from behind the metal. Opening the door I step into a place where I have no need for hoods or masks. A place far from the worries of wagers and disturbing visions.