Realm of Shadow: Chapter 2

Chapter 2
Ghosts from the Past

Norrelle sat at a large table that held a map of the city and the surrounding areas.  She scanned it from Sebastian Falls, some fifty miles north, up the canyon, to the new city gate on the mainland protecting the Islesen residents in the extension.  The fifty-mile canyon had been safe for travelers for many years, no major attacks from Goblins or bandits, had occurred.  She considered the Canyon Patrol one of her best and well trained outfits.  Yet, today, history seemed to repeat itself.  How could such a tragedy happen all over again?  Her eyes focused on the Jaws of Islesen, all over again, she thought as her head shook in disgust.
A few of the ranking members of the doomed knighthood from that day eight years ago now sat with her around the table on this dark morning of sorrow.  Fiona Lesher, a courageous woman, never left the army after the knight’s titles were removed and the doors on the Hall were locked..  Today, her title was Colonel and Fiona was one of those trusted few who did most of the work for Norrelle.  Next to her was another who never retired from soldiering, Terran Foswell.  Terran, like Fiona, was given the rank of Colonel and conducted all military training for young raw recruits.  She could see in his eyes that he more than any of them had never forgot that day.  Bitterness and anger radiated like rays of the sun as he awaited the arrival of Jayce Shadowgrass.
To her left sat Rachid Assim, who was once a prince of small desert civilization.  A young Rachid left his home fourteen years ago in search of honor among others. After the knights disbanded, Rachid did not return to his homeland as many thought, nor did he remain with the army as others assumed he would.  Instead he constructed a temple to “The Divine Light”, the lady of birth and life.  He created a small priesthood within the city, though he was not himself a priest, his loyalty to the goddess was at times far more dedicated than any.
Due to Terran's request a chair was kept next to Rachid in honor of his brother Fredric, who died in the battle eight years ago.  Two other chairs remained empty at Terran’s right, these belonged to Ayrial and loyal body guard, Stalker.  Somehow Norrelle knew that the witch would not appear here today.  Ayrial renounced all affiliations with the city and moved into hiding somewhere deep within its bowels.  No one knew where for sure, but Norrelle suspected that Jayce could easily find her if he wanted to and she allowed him.  The two of them held a lot in common.  Though Jayce considered himself dark and twisted, Ayrial was truly indeed.  Darkness was the woman's enlightenment; she bathed in its hideous essence.  Where Rachid followed the path purity and light, the divinity in which Ayrial followed, was indeed the lady of the night, evil to the dark heart, the “Bringer of Death” was truly opposite of everything that Lady Divine represented.  Norrelle never knew why such a woman of darkness would ever join a knighthood to serve man, and perhaps she never would.
Next to Fredric's empty chair was a seat that belonged to Jayce, or officially Jason Shadowgrass.  Norrelle knew he would be here, he had no choice, two soldiers were sent to bring him in.  For obvious reasons, Lord Stephan Hardin wanted him here.  Her eyes moved to the black shafted arrows that sat menacingly in front of Terran.  Razor sharp tips gleamed in the light provided by the torches in sconces on the stone walls.  The finest weapons known to man and highly illegal on the open market.
The war room door opened and two city patrol escorted Jayce into the room.  He shrugged off a touch to the shoulder as a soldier attempted kindness and led him into the room.  Anger was emanating from him as he glared towards Stephan and stomped over to his regular chair.  While he still stood, he stared at Councilman.  "What is the meaning of this Stephan?" Jayce growled.
"It is Lord Hardin, Shadowgrass," Stephan snapped back.
Jayce sat, " I never recognize any of your fictitious titles, not even as I draw my last breathes, Stephan."
"Do not press your luck," Stephan said with an eager grin.
"Is that a threat Stephan?" Jayce snapped back.
Stephan started to speak, but Norrelle decided that the event had progressed far enough.  "Gentlemen, can we move to the reason we are gathered here?"
Stephan gave her a disappointed look, but no one in the city ever disputed any of her titles, not even Jayce.  Apparently he wanted to force Jayce into a physical confrontation, and Norrelle knew that Jayce would be all too anxious to oblige.  Stephan had been a major stumbling block for Jayce in the past eight years.  It was a miracle that the Silver Dagger and his Fencing Academy were ever completed.  Stephan was the Chairman on the council which ran the judicial system of the city, and he had devoted these last few years to bring Jayce down.  Though, Jayce, being clever and cautious, had eluded all Stephan's traps thus far.  Now, she feared Stephan or someone was about to set another.
"Yes," Terran added, "Let's get to the heart of the matter."
Jayce sneered at Terran, "Please Norrelle, I've got work to do."
"Work," Terran huffed.  "Work is something a honest man does."
Jayce stood, "If I'm not under arrest, then I do not have to be here!"
"Jayce sit!" Norrelle snapped.  She knew that this would damn near be impossible to do amicably when Stephan ordered it this morning, but the councilman was determined.  Tension in the room was escalating and would even grow worse as the morning dragged on.  She sighed and stared at the hostile group.  Fiona and Rachid seemed to look baffled; they did not yet know the strange circumstances, which brought them here.  She also knew that Rachid, being the forgiving individual he was, held no hardships for anyone about that dreaded day.
She took in a slow deep breath to calm her own hostilities toward the adolescent behavior that flew about the room.  "It seems that our friends the Goblins are back," she finally said.
She stood and pointed to the map.  "They attacked at their favorite spot."  Her finger traced the canyon and stopped at the Jaws of Islesen.
"Are you sure it was Goblins?" Rachid asked.
"We found their tracks," she answered.
"Among other things," Terran added while fumbling with the arrows.  Jayce's eyes followed their movement as Terran moved them about the table.  Jayce seemed to hold no concern, yet he had to know what was about to unfold.  She hoped he would react civically, he was a dear friend, more so than anyone else in the room.  She knew what he did, and she too relied on it many of times, as he her.  She knew not who had done this, but in her heart she knew it not to be Jason.  He may hold a grudge to Hardin, he may not understand Terran’s lingering bitterness, but in all, Jason Shadowgrass would not do anything to hurt the city, it was his life’s blood.  And if one thing did drive that man, it was greed.
After he glanced toward the arrows Rachid looked to Norrelle and asked, somewhat innocently, "What else?"
Norrelle drew in another deep breath.  To keep the meeting moving at a somewhat calm pace she needed to save the arrows for last.  She closed her eyes momentarily, then shook her head as the vision of the bodies she saw in the morning swarmed in her mind.  "I saw something that I've never seen before.  There were bodies, two of them, that literally had the life sucked out of them."
Fiona leaned to the table, "I don't follow, the life sucked out of them?"
Norrelle hesitated again, as she searched for the right words to describe the awful scene.  "There were no signs of wounds on the body.  No blood lay at their feet.  All that was left was pale skin stretched taught to the bones.  No muscles, blood, or anything seemed to remain within the bodies.  It was like," she paused, "well, like the life was drained out of them."
"Sounds like evil magic," Terran said as he glanced to Ayrial's empty seat next to him.
"We're not here to point fingers," Norrelle quickly added.  "Besides, Ayrial would not do something like this."
"And pray tell why not?  And why else would we be here, other than to determine those responsible, this is way I asked for this meeting, and demand that all be present." Stephan answered.
"Because I know her and what she’s capable of.  She maybe dark, but this is not her style, she needs no stage to display her deeds.  If she wanted to make a statement, she would have just froze the entire area and killed everyone, she would not contract Goblins, instead sent swarms of dead.  Get the picture."
"Maybe years ago Norrelle, but know?  Who knows the bitch?" Terran said.
"I do," Jayce added.  "and she did not have anything to do with this."
"And how do you know Jayce?" Terran said with eager anticipation.  "Is it because you did?"
"You would enjoy that so much wouldn’t you Terran?" Jayce said calmly, and waited for the acquisition.
Terran lifted the three arrows from the table.  "What Norrelle failed to mention was that the Goblins had help.  Besides finding human tracks at the site which would suggest that the Goblins were working for some one, they found these."  He tossed the arrows to Jayce's side of the table.  "And we all know who the only person in the city is that sells these and uses such weaponry."
Jayce stood again.  "You have no shred of proof to even think that I sell them."
"Hell Jayce, I've seen you use arrows just like these," Terran came back, "We all have seen it." 
"And we all relied on it," Rachid defended Jayce.
The room remained quiet as Jayce walked around the table; Stephan's eyes followed him cautiously.  He stopped behind Terran. "Well it seems you’re the only accusing person here, comrade."
"No," Stephan added.  "I agree with him."
Jayce huffed, "You would.  Your sense of justice doesn't even compare to that of the Goblins."
"Well, we will just see how the Royal Order views this incident.  It seems that investigation team is currently in Sebastian Falls and I've sent word this morning to inform them on the recent occurrence.  I think they just might find the whole ordeal quite interesting.  I'm sure they'll see things as I do,” Stephan leaned back in his chair with a smug smile.
"I don't need to stand here and be judged by these insignificant, blood - thirsty rats Norrelle," Jayce said.  "As always, it is revenge they are after and neither will surrender until I’m hung from the capital wall.  So if there is nothing else, I'm leaving."
"I want us to ride again," she quickly spoke.  "We're the only ones within the city qualified to respond."
"You’re joking, us, work together again?  It will never happen.  Just let the Order take care of it," Jayce added sarcastically.
"No," Norrelle stood.  "We did it before with out their aid.  We can do it again."
Rachid stood and lifted a goblet in traditional knightly standard.  "Well, General, I am getting no younger.  If I am to ride once more, now is the time.  Count me in."
Fiona rose with a goblet and clanked it against Rachid's.  "The Knights shall ride again.  May these Goblins and whoever else is behind this shudder with fear as our hoofs again thunder within the canyon!"
Terran looked at Jayce, "If Jayce rides, I will not."
"Oh, don’t worry about with me, Terran," Jayce spoke.  "I'm not a knight nor a hero.  Never really was nor do I want to attempt to be one now."
"Jayce, that's not true," Norrelle tried to correct him.
"No, it is.  The leaders and the citizens of this city only see what they want.  They have passed their judgement on me, and I accept it.  Honor and battle are for fools, no offense to Rachid or Fiona, or yourself Norrelle.  But, I know where I stand in this city, and it is a role that I gladly perform."
"Is this a confession I hear?" Stephan smiled.
"Take it for what it's worth Stephan.  However, it's going to take more than you or even the Order to dig up anything on me.  I accept your challenge to battle with cunning and wit.  With your intellect, this should last no more than a fortnight before you run home.  But, mind you this, I play the game to win.  You better have nothing to hide and nothing to lose because I'll see you fall.  To kill you would not be to fair for the paying public, but to strip you of status and rank would be befitting."  He turned toward the door and opened it.  “If I’m free to go Lady Norrelle, I'm through here.  I have pity for you fools," he said as he left.
Norrelle quickly got up and followed him out, she closed the door behind her.  "Jayce!" she yelled to him as he walked down the hall.
He turned but did not advance toward her.  She moved to him.  "Please, reconsider.  We could use you."
Jayce shook his head.  "No.  I like what I do.  Though is it really any different.  We did things that would make the good people of this city shudder with disgust, all under orders from men above us.  Now, I do things that would make them shudder, but now I follow no man's orders.  Besides, I offer some services that those same men rely on.  No, as I said in the room, I'm no hero and never was."
Norrelle shook her head, "No, the people remember and so do a few certain councilmen."
"Not the ones that matter," he added.
"King Richmond..."
"Has become no more than a puppet to the council.  He will believe what they tell him."
"I don’t think so," she said in the King's defense.  Still, she knew that to a degree he was right.  The City Council grew with power.  More decisions were placed in their hands.  Not all of them were corrupt, maybe two or three of the ten, but Jayce would know more about that than anyone.
"Norrelle, enough.  I gave you my answer, I’m sorry, but I can’t." he paused. "You should know that more than any one else, I just can’t.  Now, can I ask a favor of you?"
"Sure," she replied.
He leaned to her ear.  "I need Jon to sail immediately to the Nalin’s and pick up some items.  Then take them as far away from here as he can."
She straightened up and sighed.  "Why?" was all she replied.
"The Order."
Enough said, she thought.  To sail to the cave was risky.  If spotted by patrols a lot could happen.  The dwarven outpost would be revealed, Jon would be imprisoned and not to mention she would lose Wind-wing.  Sometimes friends just had to go out on proverbial limb to save another friend and this she would do for Jayce.  He was a good friend, though he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself.  She looked at him and smiled sadly.  "Sure, my friend.  I'll tell him as soon as I leave here."
"Thanks," he said with a wink and headed back down the hall.  Sorrow filled her heart as she watched him leave.  It was pity she felt for him, what a bitter man he was.  She knew that one day Jayce would realize that he was not all that he thought he was.  A good man was hidden within his soul.  Hidden by anger and hatred, by events that he could not control or change.  He need not forgive those around him, but forgive himself.

         * * *

"Son of a bitch," Jayce cried as he and his horse flung downward into a pit trap.  He tumbled away from the beast, only to remove a chunk of his flesh on his upper left arm to a wooden spike.  He caught a glance of Fiona being vaulted over the head of her mount as it plummeted to the ground beside him.  He staggered back to his horse as it shook out its last breath.  Luck had struck Fiona as she bounced hard to the earth between a series of spikes.
The eerie squeal known as the Goblin war cry echoed out, which told him that the small band he had chased was on their way back to attempt to finish them off.  He got to his feet and leapt for the edge.  Dust rolled around him as the others quickly brought their steeds to a halt.  His eyes got a glance of another band that had emerged from the nooks in the canyon's west wall.  He tried to pull himself out, but the loose dirt and a wounded arm foiled his attempt.  Again, he jumped and held fast to the pit's edge.  Norrelle had already turned herself around and rapidly advanced on the Goblins from the west.
His heart raced as he watched Leanne Hardin run toward him across the barren landscape.  “No, stay back!” he screamed as he frantically tried to drag himself up.  But the young girl ignored him, she ran toward him with a determination to save him.  She darted left and right, avoiding inaccurate bow shots from Goblins hiding in the Cliffside.  He pulled himself up and started to stand and run in her direction.  Then Ayrial's chilling voice echoed an incantation above the taunting war cries.  Soon he found himself being hopelessly tossed across the canyon floor as a loud boom and intense heat flooded the canyon.  Dust and smoke, lined with the scent of burning flesh rolled over him.  When it cleared he glanced back toward the wagons only to see the Goblins where Leanne had been crossing.  "No...."
The vivid memory shot him back to the present as he stopped his horse on the road that inclined down between the city wall that divided the city.  He wiped the sweat from his brow with his left hand.  The morning sun now approached its apex in the sky.  The cool sea breeze held the temperature comfortable.  He shook his head and directed his horse down the road.  He looked up at the obsidian tower that was visible nearly from any point in the city.  The white spots that were ingrained within the stone seemed to twinkle at him like stars.  Was it an illusion or did they really flash?  Only the city's resident wizard, Christopher Maylor, knew the answer.
Jayce surmised that there was more to this morning's encounter than that which laid on the surface.  Something was amiss and Stephan was deeply involved.  First order of business when he returned was to start his own investigation.  A few of his men would be assigned to Stephan, if something was behind the picture or in the closet, they would find it.  Jayce however would personally pay a visit the two armorers that secretly sold his weapons.  Someone bought them, they would have to know whom.
He rounded the southern tip of the vast Maylor Park and headed north up East Parkrun.  East Parkrun was one of the widest streets in the entire city.  Now, as it was most of the season, traveling merchants from all over Dargothia lined the center of the street for its entire one-mile length.  People, of all classes, roamed up and down the road; they bought, sold, bartered, and searched.  Here, anyone could find anything, provided they had the silver.  Everything that was legal, of course.
East Parkrun had always amazed him.  Here it was, only about midday, and the street was full of shoppers.  It would remain crowded like this until sundown.  The crowd was always here, nearly everyday of the season.  Of course, he did not mind such a crowd, though it made movement on the street difficult.  The Silver Dagger sat on the north end of this street, and what better place to draw in patrons from all over.  The chance to win more silver to spend on the street enticed them into his establishment.  Reasonably priced drinks quenched their thirst on hot afternoons.  Excellent food filled their stomachs as they either began or ended their day on the strip.  No, he was always pleased to see a crowd on this street.
He directed his mount to turn right onto Fourth Avenue and brought it to a halt next to the side entrance of the Dagger.  A young lad, who must have been watching from the stables at the rear of the building, ran and snatched his reins.  He dismounted and let the boy take the steed to the Dagger's private stables.  He used a key to open the door that said 'Dagger employees only.'
Once in the kitchen, he took a deep breath, smelling the lunch time specials cooking, he nodded at the cooks and went across the room to another door.  The door brought him into the Dagger behind the bar.  Jacob was wiping the bar and talked to a few regulars up at the northern end of the bar that ran half the length of the Dagger.  To his left, the dining area was nearly three-quarters full.  Straight ahead of him, past the bar, he could see through the door that led into the casino.  It too was loaded with people who wanted to win more silver.  He smiled, silver in the making.
He was about to enter his office that sat immediately to his right when he saw Jacob wave to him with the bar rag.  The middle-aged bartender walked to him as Jayce stood there with his hand on the door latch.  "What now Jacob?" Jayce asked.
"You have a visitor," Jacob informed him.
"Who?"
"A stranger, definitely not from around these parts."
"Where is he from?" Jayce hesitantly questioned.  Thoughts of the Order quickly jumped into his mind.
"Don't know.  But he has funny eyes.  The fellow came in here all bundled up in a hooded cloak.  Couldn't make much out on him, but his eyes and face, eerie.  If I didn't know better I'd say he wasn't human."
"What?"
"Now, not like I've ever seen one before, but I think it's an elf."
An elf, what could be next?  How could this day get any stranger?  "Awful far from where he belongs.  If he's seen, he could get himself hung," Jayce said casually.  "Get me a bottle of our best Arginthin wine."
"Yes, Mister Shadowgrass," Jacob replied.
"Where is he?" he asked.
"With Shae, in your office."
At least he was not alone in there.  Shae was always on top of things.  Elves were known to have some of the keenest senses.  A concealed door just might stand out to him.  Of course, this was only legend and myth.  Jayce had only seen two elves in his life, both while on duty with the knights.
He took the bottle of opened wine from Jacob and set it on a round tray.  He looked up at the glass rack and picked up two goblets, then snatched a third from a different rack.  This one held a dissimilar design than the others.  He sat all three on the tray and picked it up.  "Here goes nothing," he said more to himself than to Jacob.

         * * *

Wind and waves rocked the Zephyr as it made a hard turn to the port.  Catharine Foster held the stair railing tightly as she climbed the port side steps to the top of the aft castle.  Rain pounded her body and drenched her to the soul.  Visibility was down to a mere hundred yards, if even that.  Her free hand shielded her eyes as she watched the smaller craft approach.  The storm slowed them both down, though the Zephyr had the advantage.  The other ship struggled as the large waves splashed over her sides.
The storm was a lifesaver that appeared just at the right moment.  Strange though, there were no signs of it in the first place.  The clouds swirled out of no where and delivered a mighty punch to the calm waters.  Lightning brightened the sky as she slowly moved to the rear of the vessel.  Timothy staggered up beside her.  "The helmsman can't get her to respond, seems the wind is coming from everywhere."
"It can't," she yelled back.
"Unnatural," he replied.  "Never seen clouds as black as those before."
The ship rocked again as a wave rolled over its midsection.  Men slid across the deck as they frantically tried to keep the vessel under control.  Foster and Tim held the side rail as the Zephyr dropped.  "Can't do battle in this!" Foster yelled.
"I know," Tim responded.  "Then they can't either."
"Good," she answered as the smaller vessel nearly capsized as a huge wave rolled over it.  "She can't handle a storm like this."
"Can we?" Tim asked nervously.
"I’ve taken her through a lot, but," she paused looking at the swells around her, the ominous clouds above her and shook her head.
“But what,” Tim yelled.
"I've never seen a storm like this,” she admitted.  And the statement was true.  In her many years at sea, from a deck hand to a captain, she seen a lot of weather, from the hurricanes on the western face, to the trade wind storms along this route, and none of them were like this.  This was more a combination of both, strange, unique, and magical.
The ship vaulted up and rapidly down again, Foster lost her footing and slid to the deck.  Frantically she reached out and snatched a hold on the rail post.  Tim, down to his knees, still held the rail with both hands.  "By the Gods," she barely heard him over the wind.
"What?" she yelled and pulled herself up the rail.
With his left arm wrapped around the rail, he pointed northward.  Her gaze followed his finger as she pulled herself to her knees.  A second ship emerged into view.  Its sails grayed with age, tattered and torn, billowed in the wind.  It skipped off the waves effortlessly and headed straight for the first vessel.  The storm did not effect its course, as if the two worked in conjunction.  "Who the Hell is that?" she asked.
"This ain't natural, I tell ya Capt'n," Tim answered.  "I've heard stories, terrible ones."
"Come on Tim," she tied herself to the rail with a lose rope.  "I've been sailing this route for years and never seen any signs of a ghost ship."
He grabbed her shoulder, "I think you're seein' it now."
The strange frigate steered nearer to the smaller ship, its course had not yet veered.  "She's gonna ram her," she said as she removed a spyglass from her belt.
"I tell you, it’s the damned Waverunner.  By the Gods, we're doomed."
"Shut up," she snapped as she lifted the glass to her eye.  "Hold me tighter," she ordered.
He clutched her tighter and used his right to grab the rail.  "We're done for."
She huffed, ghost ship my ass.  She focused the lens on the bow of the ship.  An Alexian ship sank the Waverunner twelve years ago.  It took three balista bolts to the waterline at the starboard bow.  Eyewitnesses aboard the Alexian ship reported that it sunk almost immediately.  Two of Islesen's best knights were reported to be on the Waverunner at the time.  Also, according to the reports back at Islesen, they were the only two to survive.  To this day, no one knew how they were saved.  The only ship in the vicinity was the Alexian pirate vessel and they did not rescue a single soul. 
A bolt of lightning bounced horizontally from the smaller to the haunting frigate, the intensity blinded her view.  She lowered the glass and saw the frigates main sail burst briefly into flames.  Magic, how she hated magic.  However, better the frigate than the Zephyr as their target.
After the Zephyr again lurched up and down she lifted the spyglass to her right eye.  She searched until she found the bow of the frigate again.  She moved the lens down the length of the ship and read the letters out loud as she saw them. 
"W  A  V  E  R  U...."
The ship rocked again, she bent headfirst over the rail.  She fumbled with the spyglass, and then it dropped into the deep sea.  Tim pulled her back and he slid back down to the deck, gripping the side rail.  She put both hands on the railing, tossed her head as her hair whipped her in the face.  She glanced down at her first Mate, Tim's face was pale and his eyes revealed fear.  Foster wondered what hers must have shown to him.  Sure she was scared, as she turned an faced back at the darkness and haunting display behind them, but she could not let him or any of the crew see it.  She knew what ever the outcome, whatever lay head for them her men would be standing by her side, blades held high, despite any fear that burned deep in their guts, or hers.  She needed to be strong, and strong she was.  Her life made her hard, sure she had her moments of weakness, Jayce Shadowgrass was one.  Or more like a string of a few, but that was on land, here, out at sea, she could handle anything, even if it included a spell casting caravel, a large ghost ship, and a storm of un-natural proportions.