The Tharians arrived at the Konnen mansion to find a crowd already gathered in the forecourt, staring in anger and frustration at the huge, elaborately carved and decorated doors, closed for the first time in many years.
Shaun ran his fingers happily along the blade of his magic sword, the sword that had been made by the wizard Zebulon and owned by the warrior Rhanov of Vantarestin. It had been one of the swords dropped by the surrendering Konnen soldiers, and Shaun had been overjoyed to find it among the other discarded weapons, the highly stylised ‘Z’ engraved on the hilt gleaming brightly in the light of the glowing globes of marble. “Look!” he’d exclaimed in delight as he’d picked it up. “Zeb’s sword!”
“I’d have thought you’d have had enough of magic swords to last you a lifetime,” Lirenna had said with a frown.
The soldier had given her a look of irritation, not liking to be reminded of the Runeblade. Matthew, meanwhile, was also searching hopefully among the discarded weapons, hoping to find his own sword. The sister blade to Shaun’s sword but not magical, the great wizard having died before he could complete the enchantments upon it. He didn’t find it, but he did find a sword of much finer workmanship than the crude blade he had been holding and he picked it up instead. Maybe this one’s magical, he thought hopefully.
Shaun sheathed the sword as they contemplated the huge, closed doors of the mansion. “Dropped the portcullis and raised the drawbridge,” he muttered to himself. “Now what do we do?”
“The servants entrance,” said Clarissa, overhearing the remark. “The servants’ve all come out to join the crowd and left the door open behind them. We can get in that way.”
“We’ll have to be careful,” warned Tomsk, however. “There’s a mighty lot o’ guards in there, and the Konnen men are mighty handy with the sword. It’ll be no easy thing to winkle ‘em out.”
Most of the crowd were aware of this and, with most of their raging bloodlust having exhausted itself, few had dared to do more than stick their heads around the small door into the laundry room beyond. One young man had gone as far as the kitchens, normally heavily guarded to protect the Pantry. He had come out to report that he’d seen nobody and that, in his own words, ‘It’s awful quiet in there,’ so that some of the more adventurous were working themselves up to going in and having a proper look around.
Fearing another slaughter, Diana pushed her way through the crowd to the door and took her place as leader of the expedition, intending to mediate peacefully with whoever they met. The other Tharians gathered protectively around her and Clarissa tried to come as well, but Diana gently turned her away.
“This may be dangerous,” she said, “and we can’t put your life at risk. Once we’re gone, you’ll be the only source of spiritual guidance these people have. It would be a tragedy if you were taken from them, leaving them lost and confused.” The girl nodded reluctantly and stepped away.
“Come on then,” said Shaun, motioning towards the door. “If we wait too long they might try something.”
The others thought uncomfortably of all the weapons stored in the treasure rooms, some of them probably magical and devastating to use in a confined space. The idea of Lord Basil wreaking terrible vengeance upon his former subjects with a powerful magical weapon was one that came all too readily to mind, so they filed in through the door, followed by a large part of the crowd, creeping warily.
The servants’ area of the mansion looked as though the maids and servants had simply dropped whatever they’d been doing and fled at a moments notice, which was probably what had happened considering the unbelievable speed with which the revolution had swept through the city. Unfinished pieces of work lay scattered everywhere. Sheets of linen half folded, dropped untidily on the floor. Other sheets half ironed still draped across ironing boards, the irons themselves still warm where they stood next to the heater, a slab of stone that used magical power from the Lifegiver to warm anything stood on it. Further on, mops and buckets had been dropped in a pile, a puddle of soapy water seeping slowly into the gaps between the ceramic floor tiles, and someone had dropped a cotton apron in the corner, next to a pile of towels and sponges.
The kitchens themselves had the various ingredients of a half prepared meal scattered around on every surface. Joints of meat half cut up into slices, piles of potatoes half peeled, half mixed pastry, half plucked turkeys and bowls of grated vegetables. One of the ovens had smoke pouring out of it, and Thomas opened it to find a burned loaf of bread inside. The Pantry itself was unguarded, the alcoves where the two guards normally stood being empty, and this more than anything else convinced them that the danger was over. The crowd behind them took heart and raced off into the mansion proper, ignoring Diana as she tried to stop them, and soon the mansion was full of the sounds of excited people pillaging and looting.
“They’ll kill anyone they find!” cried the cleric in anguish.
“Somehow, I get the impression they’re not going to find anyone,” said Thomas, though. “They're gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Let's go find out.”
They made their way straight to the great hall deciding that that was where they were most likely to meet the Konnens. None of them felt much inclined to search the whole mansion. When they arrived, though, they were surprised to see that a door in the rear wall, opposite the great forecourt doors, had been opened. The polished tiled floor of the hall had been scratched in an arc by the door’s opening and closing, and the edges of the door, previously painted over during its centuries of neglect, were visible once more where the paint had cracked and broken, disturbing the mural that had been painted over it.
“What’s this?” demanded Shaun. “I didn’t know there was a door here.”
Tomsk didn’t know what it was either, but another man came forward. “Every mansion used to have an exit out into the caverns,” he explained, “Back in the days when we used to have regular contact with the moon trogs. This must be it.”
“That explains where everyone is,” said Jerry happily. “Fled into the caverns to join the renegades. No wonder this place is empty.” He gave the door a shove but it didn’t budge. “Locked. They didn’t want anyone following them.”
“No, that doesn’t make sense,” said Thomas, though. “Most of the renegades fled the city to escape the Nobles. Imagine their reaction at suddenly finding Lord Basil in their midst.”
“Maybe he’s counting on them not knowing who he is,” speculated the tiny nome. “Who cares anyway, so long as he’s gone?”
“Let’s make sure he really is gone,” said Shaun, and he gave orders to the men following them to search the mansion. Some of them glared at him angrily, as if wondering who he was to give them orders, but he was only telling them to do what they wanted to do anyway so they split up and set off down the corridor without comment.
“Don’t harm anyone you find!” called out Diana after them. “Just bring them back here.” Some of them looked back and nodded, but the majority just ignored her.
Soon, however, it became evident that the whole mansion was deserted. There was no-one left at all. No guards, no nobles, nobody. “We found a corpse though,” said one young man. “Lord Basil’s chief advisor, Silus Vart. Back that way. Stabbed.”
“Probably made the mistake of advising Lord Basil to give himself up,” replied Tomsk. “In the state he was in, he probably thought he was trying to lead him into a trap.”
“So that’s it then,” said Matthew happily. “The war’s over! The city’s free at last!”
The commoners gathered in the great hall took up the chant, shouting “Freedom! Freedom!” at the top of their voices, and some ran back the way they’d come to take the word to the crowd outside. Shaun and Matthew went to the great doors and pulled them open, and as soon as the crowd got their first glimpse of the Tharians in the widening doorway a thunderous cheer went up that rocked the whole city from one end to the other. A cheer that was heard even by the surviving Traldian Nobles, cowering in their bedchambers where they waited for the crowd to come for them.
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The Caverns of Kronos
الخيال (فانتازيا)Thomas Gown and his companions have escaped from captivity, but only by fleeing deeper into the unknown, to face new dangers. They are carrying a secret that could save the world, though, and they have a duty to take it to those who can make use of...
