Chapter 6

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Weeks later, a tattered, damaged ship limped its way into Turinthian waters. Waiting warships soon escorted the broken vehicle in, and the crew was soon freed from its bosom.

With a squad of soldiers, General Mountebank eagerly met his knights, relieved of their return. They were soon taken back to the palace of the King and their story was told. King Prelance’s face grew dark as Bartholomew discussed what they had encountered, the otherworldly Slth, and their connection to not only Mezzolanke, but the Dark Ones themselves. Bartholomew withdrew from a parcel the pages and scrolls Qualtan had given him and laid them before the King and General Mountebank. The mark of Those That Stand in Shadow was proudly displayed on many of them. The King took them in his hands.

“He is dead then?” the King asked with concern, looking to Bartholomew and then to Glaive.

“We do not know. The Slth apparently fled back to their home world by means of a mystic tunnel. We do not know if they were successful, or if Qualtan was able to follow them before the cavern roof collapsed. We stand here because of his efforts,” Bartholomew said. Glaive said nothing, staring towards the floor.

The King shook his head. “Horrors of all type assail us: the loss of the Goldenflame and its bearer, these…proofs…of the Dark Ones’ machinations upon our very lands, and the kingdom of Mezzolanke involved as well! I never would have thought they would dare to lower themselves to such an allegiance, but such is the way of things.”

“They have broken our pact of neutrality by this partnership,” Mountebank added.

“We must learn what those papers contain,” Bartholomew said.

“Indeed, and we shall. General Mountebank, take these to the university. Have the scribes who have kept the lore of the Dark Ones since wars past translate these hated words of evil. Summon the council! Our Alliance partners must be informed of this. We will demand representatives of Mezzolanke come forward to answer for these deeds! Whether taken illegally from their lands or not, their actions to ally with the Dark Ones, and the use of their forbidden powers, supersedes all niceties of stately law.”

“But, your Majesty!” Euric said, clearing his throat as he approached the throne. “What does it matter if agents of Mezzolanke’s emperor come here to defend themselves with lies and false accusations? We already know their guilt!”

The King smiled. “But of course we know this is the case. Your actions have given us the proofs that lie before us. But…” The King raised a hand to halt Euric’s response. “…what we need now is time. Time to decipher these documents and prepare a final accounting straight to the doorstep of the master schemer or schemers behind all this. We cannot allow the Mezzolankeans to know of this. They will warn their allies. They already are doing so as we speak. But they must be made to assume we know nothing more than their own involvement in this. While we go through courtly ritual, we will hopefully add enough delay to give your next mission a chance! Our proceedings will be long and complex, and by their end, you will have found the source of this slavery, and defeated it!”

The knights nodded, encouraged by the King’s wisdom.

“For once, our paper shuffling and shouts of debate will be put to good use!” the King added with a wry look.

“Your Majesty, if Those That Stand in Shadow are truly behind this, should not the School of the Arch-Mages be contacted? Swords will not stand alone against their peril. Surely the great wizard Aurelus, uncle to Qualtan, must be informed of these events!” Bartholomew said.

“The Arch-Mages have served us well. They are the mighty rampart, the final wall that protects the civility and order of the Alliance. It is with their assistance that we have kept back the never-ending tides of evil that crash upon our shores. Do not fear, Sir Knight, your counsel is not far from my own. Know that you have done a mighty thing for your nation and for the Alliance by your brave efforts, each of you. You have saved us all. I bow to you with the thanks of a grateful nation.” The King rose from his throne and lowered his head. The knights did the same, taking to their knees except for Glaive, whose eyes never left the polished marbled floor.

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