. Silence again. They had been sitting like this, tied together, for hours. There was no light anywhere. A deep darkness reigned. The room didn't seem very large; the floor was covered with stinking straw. Tard sat resignedly, leaning against one of the cold walls. His movements were effectively restricted by a thick rope tied around his wrists. His hands were bent back, numb to the point he could barely feel them.
He knew someone else shared his fate. He tried to communicate with her, but she wouldn't answer any of his questions. Resigned, he decided to sleep. He had long since lost track of time. He counted it only from meal to meal brought by the guard. He had already sat here for two courses, and his companion had only had one. It would soon be time for another meal, but Tard wasn't hungry. He felt almost nothing.
*
A scream was heard in the town square. In the center stood a short man dressed in a gray robe that reached to his ankles. His face was invisible, well concealed by his hood. His hands were slightly raised, pointing to a man writhing on the ground a few steps away. His movements resembled a dying snake. His hands were clasped around his neck. Several people stood around, but none reacted. Fear was evident in their eyes. After all, such scenes are rare in Kareth. After a while, two tall men armed with swords appeared behind the man in gray robes. They wore light armor, and their heads were protected by a simple helmet, the kind commonly seen on guards in small towns. A black-haired elf materialized before him. He raised his arms, muttered something very quickly, and aimed his hands at the man in gray. He had failed with his defensive spell. The impact knocked him off his feet. Immediately, the men behind him pounced on him. The elf began chanting a disabling spell. It was successful. The man in gray robes was paralyzed. The sun shone directly into his eyes, and he didn't even blink. The guards, certain he was already incapacitated, began to tie him up. As the guards took the attacker away, the elf approached the man lying on the ground. The people began to disperse as if nothing had happened. They tried not to look at their mage. A child cried, but was quickly silenced by a small woman selling clothes.
The mage looked at the man, who moments before had seemed to suffer terribly with pity, and began to chant another spell. The terrible scream echoed through the city again
.
It finally worked. Sensation seemed to return to Degard. Hours of meditation were taking their toll. Yes, the pain of the paralyzing spell was beginning to overwhelm him. A moment later, he began to breathe heavily. He rolled onto his left side. He felt his hands bound with rope. Just rope. There must be some magical trap, too, he thought. It was impossible for them to make such a mistake. More senses were returning to him, and he heard that he wasn't alone in the room. He began to smell the stench of the dungeon. He decided to remain silent. He didn't care who he was in. He only cared how to get out of here as quickly as possible.
"Who are you?" Tard decided to ask one last time. He couldn't bear the solitude any longer.
"Nobody important," Degard replied quietly. Speaking hurt him.
"I see you don't really want to talk.
" "How long have you been here?
" "I don't know exactly, but if they serve us one meal a day, I've been here two days. And why haven't you spoken?" I've told you so many times
—I was meditating.
—What?
—Nothing, who are you? What do you do?
Tard wasn't sure whether to answer the question. Finally, for some reason, the stranger didn't want to reveal who he was. After a moment's hesitation, he did say,
"I'm a visiting merchant. The law in this city is reprehensible. Who saw merchants being imprisoned?
" "And what did you do?
" "Nothing, a woman simply gave me a few too many gold coins for a fake gold ring," he smiled wryly, "and as luck would have it, a little further along there was someone who knew what they were doing. What law-abiding people! I won't return to this city. "
A moment of silence.
"Will you let me try something?" Degard asked
. "Do whatever you want.
" The silence was filled with the words of a wizard, who was speaking in the wizarding language. After a moment, he fell silent and asked,
"Do you see anything?
" "What am I supposed to see?"
Degard didn't answer. He scratched his cheek, then sat down, trying to assume the best meditation position. He began to meditate.
"What was I supposed to see?" the merchant repeated his question. Receiving no answer, he gave up and decided to sleep.
*
When the merchant awoke, he saw his companion in misery standing over him. Without any ropes binding him.
"How... how did you do that? Are you a mage?" Tard asked, surprised.
"You could say so," the interlocutor replied, and began to untie the merchant. The spell," he continued, "that was used to enslave me proved too weak. I didn't expect such a city to be protected by such weak mages."
Tard stood up and began massaging his aching wrists. He was bound so tightly that thick red welts were visible.
"Thanks, what did they put you in for?" he asked.
"It's nothing important... Do you know where we are? What prison?
" "Yes, it's a small prison on the edge of town. I saw you coming in.
" "And the walls? Can you tell how thick they are, and if there's anything more behind them?"
Tard gestured with his hands, showing the thickness of the walls. "They'll be about that thick, surely you're not planning to run away?" I've heard of mages destroying walls, but I think those are just fairy tales. An old man in my town told something like that..."
Suddenly they heard footsteps. They sat down. Two guards arrived with a new meal. The light from the torches blinded them. They threw food. Some for Degard, some for Tard.
"How long will I be here?" the merchant asked
. "You'll wait for the verdict, and then we'll see," the guard laughed.
They left. Darkness fell again. Degard muttered something, and a tiny flame of fire appeared on his hand.
"It will give us some light." If you want, eat mine too, I don't feel like it. He still has a stomach ache. Everything hurts.
Tard started eating because he was very hungry. What kind of people are they, he thought, maybe they don't even need to eat, who knows what they learn there. A school for mages should be banned. After he finished his portion, he started eating Degard's food.
"What's your name, anyway?" he asked while eating.
"Degard.
" "Why aren't you eating? You have much better food than me.
" "I told you already, I don't feel like it."
After 15 minutes, the merchant noticed his legs were turning blue.
"What's the matter? Why are they turning blue?
" "Food.
" "What food?
" "It was probably poisoned...
" "What? I'm going to die, damn it, do something! You're a mage. Heal me, I don't want to die.
" "Fine, but on one condition. You're a merchant, right? That's why I'll get a free horse from you and you'll help me get out of town. Do we have a deal?
" "Yes."
The mage muttered a few words and made a quick gesture.
"That's it?"
"Yes, for now, yes, but it will have to be repeated three more times. Such poisons tend to renew their attacks. And this spell only weakened her."
The merchant saw his legs slowly regaining their natural color.
"Now leave me alone, I'll take care of getting us out of here," Degard said, then closed his eyes.
After a while, he stood up, placed his right hand on the wall, and began whispering strange, incomprehensible words. Suddenly, the wall began to crumble gently, starting from the ground. The cracks grew larger and larger, seeming to reach the mage's hand. The wall burst open. The mage slumped to the ground.
"Now the rest is up to you. Get us out of here."
Tard led the wizard through the cracked wall. It turned out it was night. After walking a few steps with Degard, the merchant looked back and saw that the wall was intact. They headed for the nearby forest.
"Halt!" shouted a guard standing nearby.
They started to run, but the mage, weakened by the spell, didn't have the strength and stumbled. He landed straight in a puddle. Tard stayed by his side. When Degard got up, the guard was already beside him, pointing his sword at him.
"Don't worry, we'll work something out. I'm Tard, you probably know me. Let us go and I'll reward you handsomely.
" "What would I get?
" "I have a house nearby, I have many valuables that might interest you.
" "I'm coming, but if you're lying, I'll kill you."
They reached the city, Tard and Degard walking a little ahead, tied to the guard with a rope.
"Get him," Tard whispered as quietly as possible.
"You don't know how? Magic isn't a sword you can swing at will," the mage replied.
"What are you talking about?" the guard roared.
"It's not far now, it'll be there, around the corner," Tard said.
They reached a small house. A small light was visible in the window, probably from a lamp. A hunched figure was sitting on a chair. Tard approached and knocked. A dwarf with glasses opened the door.
"Hello, Tard," he yawned. "What brings you here in the middle of the night?
" "Hello, Khar, I'm here to visit an old friend. And besides, you probably have something of mine, right?
" "Well, come in and sit at the table, I'll bring it right away."
The room they entered was small. In the center stood a wooden, round table. On it were some papers, which Khar seemed to have been reading before they arrived. In the corner stood a bookshelf, and right next to it was an uncomfortable dwarven bed. The guard must have been slightly tilted, because the ceiling was so low. They sat on massive wooden chairs. The next room the dwarf entered was lost in darkness. The dwarf wasn't there for long.
"I'm going to see what he's doing there," the guard said, still holding the mage and the merchant by the rope.
He entered the room, and the clang of iron rang out. One bang, the clang of falling iron, then another. A figure fell. A moment later, the dwarf emerged with an axe.
"Is this how you settle your accounts, Tard? It's 3-0 to me, I don't know when you'll pay... So, shall we have a beer?"
When the newcomers nodded, the dwarf went back into the dark room, this time lighting a lamp. A moment later, he emerged with three mugs of beer. He placed them in front of them and sat down in the chair the guard occupied. After a few sips, he began to speak.
"We'll have to do something with the body." Tard, will it be as usual?
- Yes, that won't be a problem.
"Did you hear they caught a mage? There hasn't been one here in ages. Livien supposedly dealt with him pretty well. I wonder if he's still alive. It's good we have such a mage; at least we're safe. The other one was supposedly some kind of renegade.
" "Imagine I heard that. Tell me if we can stay with you for one night.
" "Yes, no problem, but..."
"Wait, we have to explain to him who I am," Degard said. "I'm the mage that elf defeated. Livien? I'll remember. Tell me where to find him." Tard—he turned to the merchant—"we don't have much time, the Immortals will be coming for me soon
." "Immortals?" Tard laughed. "And what else? Will they fly in on golden dragons? Or maybe they have wings themselves?"
The mage's gaze made the merchant no longer expect any answer. Khar paused for a moment.
"Let's have another drink," and then went to get more mugs of beer.
They drank and then went to bed.
*
"Time to say goodbye, see you soon, Khar," the mage said in farewell.
"Farewell," replied the dwarf who had come to bid them farewell
. They rode off toward the city. Degard pulled his hood over his head so no one would recognize him. He was already dreading the arrival of the Immortals.
"This is where," Tard said, heading toward a nearby inn. "This is where I stayed until that woman accused me.
" The One-Eyed Hawk inn wasn't very impressive. Next to the old, shabby entrance door stood a bench, and on it sat a drunken man, holding a mug half-full of some kind of liquor. When they entered the door, the smell of old, rotting wood and the loud noise that usually pervaded this place hit them. They approached the bartender, who stood behind a large, dirty counter. A hooded figure sat nearby, lazily drinking a beer. Tard called the bartender over, who gave him the keys, then left because someone wanted another beer. They followed the mage down the winding, creaking stairs.
"Clever, isn't it? Who would have thought I could hide such a fortune in this crummy inn. And in the basement, too
." "You stayed in the basement? You're a merchant, you're probably full of money.
" "It was cheaper here... And certainly safer! Yes, Degard, these days you have to think a little. I have something for you here. You'll see what a gem it is. Who would think of something like that? To search in the basement?
" "Rats..." Degard laughed, glancing at the gnawed packages. "I hope that gem wasn't for eating.
" "Damn... I had clothes in there... Good thing those little devils won't eat the coins," the merchant said angrily, trying to kick a passing rat.
He began unpacking the packages. Fortunately, few items had been chewed. From one, he pulled out a one-handed sword. The hilt was decorated with some cheap dwarven paintings, but the blade itself was excellent work. It was a perfect example of why dwarves shouldn't be concerned with art, but with weaponry.
"Some dwarf who didn't have the money to do business with me gave it to me, hehe," the merchant laughed
. "Take these things and let's get out of here. You still have to give me a horse.
" "Won't you help me?" Tard muttered, trying to lift everything at once.
"I'll take the sword," Degard replied, tucking it under his robe.
When they left, the inn was very quiet. In the center stood three tall prison guards, armed with simple swords. None of them wore armor or anything to protect them from blows. They clearly relied on their fencing skills.
"Are you gentlemen looking for someone?" Degard shouted.
"Idiot, what are you doing?" Tard hissed.
"Catch!" The mage threw his sword at the merchant, who caught it clumsily
. Degard ran toward the guards, who drew their swords. The mage made a deft gesture, and a wave of air hit them, knocking them off their feet. As they fell, they destroyed the tables standing nearby. One of them cut himself badly on the glass from a broken tankard. The other two quickly stood up, grabbed their weapons, and began cautiously approaching the enemy. The first one fell from above, but the mage managed to dodge. At that moment, Tard jumped up and stabbed him at waist level with his sword. Tard dropped his weapon, which fell with the dead guard. The last of the guards began to flee. Just as he reached the door, Degard's magical strike struck him. He flew through the broken door. A moment later, an elf dressed in a white robe stepped across the inn's threshold.
"We meet again..." he said with satisfaction
. "Yes, only this time I won't get hit in the back. Is that what they taught you?" Degard replied.
"Any way is good. Fight!" Livien shouted.
Degard performed another thrust spell, but Livien deflected it towards the nearby tables, which toppled over. The elf responded by striking the mage squarely in the stomach. He doubled over and fell.
"So, that's it? Another one less..."
He didn't get to finish his sentence because Tard ran at him with his sword. A light shove, and he landed with the bartender's counter. The others, who hadn't managed to escape, hid. Livien, meanwhile, approached Begard and lifted him.
"This has to be handled the normal way, not magically," he said, drawing his dagger.
"Oh yes," Degard replied, headbutting him in the nose.
The elf collapsed, blood pouring from his nose. A slight raise of his hands, Livien's hands went to his neck. He began to choke.
"That's one of the spells they don't teach you," Degard laughed, then said something else, and Livien froze. "Remember that name, Degard, show it off to your masters."
The mage in the gray robe headed toward the bartender's counter.
"You can leave now."
He walked over to Tard and helped him up. We're going to the stables for your horses. There's nothing for us here.
" *
"Degard, did you kill him?" Tard asked after a long silence, throwing wood on the fire where a large rabbit was roasting.
"No, I just did the same thing he did to me. Only my disabling spell will last a little longer. His master will heal him. How are your legs?
" "You were supposed to heal me, I forgot, Degard, what now? Can you heal this?" Tard quickly began rolling up the legs of his pants.
"No, I tricked you. It was just an illusion created by me. You would never have helped me like that. Sorry," the magician laughed, "take down that rabbit or it will burn, and I can't heal that."
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