The Broken Sword

*****

"I have lost them," Alesha said, turning from the still pool of dark water in front of her. Kelnozz nodded, his fists clenched both in frustration and to help stem the flow of blood from his palms where his knife had cut deeply into them.

She waved her hand and the image in the water disappeared, leaving only the red tinted water behind. "Wash your hands in the water, it will help," she told him. Kelnozz nodded and knelt down, opening his hands and immersing them in the small pool.

He gasped as the fiery agony of the cuts in his hands lessened. The water was warm at first, but cooled the longer his hands remained in it. Not only that, but the color of it lessened as well, until at the last it was transparent again as water should be. He pulled his hands out and stood up, staring at his palms. Gone were the deep cuts, in their place were fresh scars that were still pink and tender to the touch.

"The magic used some of your blood as fuel, what remained is restored to you," Alesha explained, smiling softly. Kelnozz nodded, she had told him that she could scry upon their son but the cost to do so would be painful. Kelnozz had, of course, agreed instantly. As in all things throughout his life when he set his mind to something he would sacrifice nearly anything to see it done.

"In the olden days you would not have needed a sacrifice for such a thing," Kelnozz pointed out, finally relinquishing his worries over his son and turning to her.

"In the old days I would have the stored energy of countless sacrifices already within me," she pointed out.

"What of the power you stole from Bavorish?" Kelnozz asked.

Alesha shivered. "Yes, I have that, but his is more destructive. I keep that buried deep inside me until those times when I need it. It makes me feel... unholy, I guess, using it."

Kelnozz nodded. He might not be able to emphasize with her but he could understand on a rational level what she was saying. He smiled at her. "And to think I almost killed you because I thought you lost to evil."

"Several times," Alesha reminded him with a grin. Kelnozz shrugged sheepishly, then glanced back at the pool. His expression sobered.

"Well?" Alesha asked, knowing fresh troubling thoughts had entered his mind. "Are you envious of him or frightened for him?"

It was a good question, Kelnozz had to admit. "I wonder if the years have driven her mad."

"Or perhaps she has realized the error of her ways. Some of us do that, you know," Alesha said with a smile. Kelnozz faintly returned it, but in the case of his mother, whom he could not remember having ever met, he felt such was not the case.

Chapter 8

"Greetings, travelers, and welcome to my domain," Kalista said once Bobo, Nathanial, and Gregory were assembled before her. Gregory stared around himself in delight, so much magic had been used to enchant the palace and in particular the great hall they were presently in that he felt overwhelmed. In a good way, that is.

Nathanial, a man of the cloth perhaps but not bound by any vows of chastity, had his attention elsewhere. The woman before them was beautiful in a way that made a perfect sunrise pale in comparison. He was reminded of Alesha, save that this woman was a dark elf and therefore more exotic. Nathanial had always had a thing for elven women.

Kalista had his attention the moment he entered the room. She wore a loin cloth that fell just past her thighs, displaying her shapely legs from the dark brown sandals she wore up to the chain of silver links across her hips that held the minimal skirt up. Between her breasts lay an exquisitely crafted necklace, worth enough to bankrupt several kingdoms, numerous gems and crystals hung from it, reflecting gleaming motes of light and drawing attention away from her openly displayed breasts, which were smallish in the manner of elves but beautifully shaped and firm, despite thousands of years of gravity.

With skin the color of the darkest of chocolates and surrounded by a main of silver hair from her head, it was everything Nathanial could do to keep from drooling on himself. Bobo noticed the distraction of his companions and would have chuckled, had the situation been any different. As it was he knew what it was they were facing and he held no small amount of trepidation within him.

Kelnozz had pulled him aside before he left, telling him what little he knew of Kalista. Everything from her betrayal of her people and Kelnozz's father to her continued imprisonment within Thoragloorin. He had cautioned him time and again about her, saying that he had no idea what her mind would be like, if she was still alive even. Shaken at the sudden realization that he had a grandmother, and that she might very well end up wanting him dead, Bobo had chosen to keep the information to himself.

And now he faced her, the woman he both longed and dreaded meeting. "We are honored to be here, Your Highness," Bobo answered, again carefully choosing his words but this time using the most archaic form of pure elvish he could.

Kalista's face brightened at his chosen tongue and his words. "Tell me of the world outside, young one, and tell me also of yourselves. Who and, more importantly, what, are you?"

Bobo glance to the enchanter first, gesturing towards him and saying, "This is Gregory, he is an enchanter and is most duly impressed with the wizardry of this city. My other companion is Nathanial, a priest of the order of Alto. My name is Bobocateya, I am a simple soldier, My Lady."

Kalista's brow furrowed. "Who is this Alto and how is it possible he has such power to have people devoted to worshipping him?"

Bobo's eyes widened in realization. Bavorish had been incredibly powerful before Thoragloorin was around, but he was still only a man. The visitors from another world had not arrived and defeated him, establishing the pantheon of Gods until nearly two thousand years after the Kinslaying Wars.

"You have been here for some time, Your Majesty. Alto is one of many Gods that have come to Viconia. Bavorish was overthrown by them, joining their ranks for a while though now he has again been defeated and cast aside. Their power is absolute over most all of us that live here. Alto stands for the ideals of duty, justice, and chivalry," Bobo explained, calling upon some of the kinder things Garrick had taught him during the many times he had spent with the former God.

"Gods?" Kalista mused, speaking to herself. She shook her head, wanting more then ever to journey beyond the shield that imprisoned her and see the world beyond. "And what of the elves, how are they, Bobocateya?"

"The elves are well, My Lady, they thrive on Innowendyn, an island kingdom far to the east. Only recently, in fact, have they come together again. The sundering that took place in your time, precipitating the Kinslaying Wars, has been healed over by their king after he defeated the leader of the forsaken elves."

Kalista walked forward, stepping gracefully down the multiple steps of the stairs that led to her dais until she was directly in front of them. If she looked eager to hear more it was not even half as strong as she suddenly felt.

"Tell me more, tell me, who is the king of he Elves, Did Galinia remarry?"

"Nay, My Lady, she remained a widow and led the elves for ages. She fell in the final chapter of the Kinslayer Wars, whence her nephew took up the mantle and reunited the elven peoples as well as slaying their general."

Nearly breathless, Kalista asked, "More, I must know more. Who... who was her nephew?"

"Kelnozz Risingmoon is King of the Elves."

Kalista gasped, one hand going to cover her mouth. She stared at Bobo for a long moment as tears welled up in the corner of her eyes, tears that she blinked away. "I knew he was destined for greatness, Iknewit!"

Bobo did not acknowledge her words. He fought to keep a straight face in spite of the powerful emotions tensing through his stomach. "It was no simple task, My Lady, he had to defeat his first born son in battle to reunite the elves."

Kalista nodded, "Yes, yes, I saw much pain in his future, I remember that clearly. Many choices and hardships he had to endure, but the success... oh the success. I must see him, I must get out of here so we can be reunited!"

"He would like that very much," Bobo said, smiling for the first time and beginning to feel the iciness in his chest warm and abate.

"Damn this prison!" Kalista shouted, turning and rushing back up the steps. "You are as trapped as I am now, there is no escape from this accursed city."

"My Lady, we are here to end your imprisonment. My companions and I have been sent by King Risingmoon to destroy the seal and reclaim Thoragloorin for the elves," Bobo told her boldly.

Kalista stopped and stared at him for a long moment. She felt hope for the first time in ages, then it was crushed in a violent rage of arrogance. "You and your companions? Who are you and your companions that you can boast more power then the wizards who crafted it? Who are you that you think you have more power then I do, and I have been studying it and building up my strength for millennia!"

"Not more power, Your Highness, we have knowledge of how it must be destroyed, that is all," Bobo said quickly, frightened at her sudden mood swings.

"And how must it be destroyed, what manner of beings are you, anyhow? Never have I seen your like. You seem to be a runt of an elf yet your skin is too pale by far. And your companions are clearly descendents of ogres, a people cursed for their stupidity," she snapped.

Bobo bristled, but he forced himself to remember that had he been imprisoned for so long he might be a little irritable himself. "They are men, human, officially. And yes, humans are descended of ogres though the curse has long since been lifted. I am part man myself. Part man and part elf."

Kalista's eyes widened. "You speak against nature, child! Such a thing is impossible, it is against the natural order of things!"

Bobo smiled innocently. "Say what you will, Your Majesty, but my mother is a human woman from another world and my father is an elf that found her, trained her, fought her, loved her, and tried to kill her. Now she sits at his side and they are happy."

Kalista eyed him warily, studying him for any signs of deceit. "Very well, I have been absent from the world for to long to know what is and what is not possible. Tell me how you would destroy the seal."

Bobo glanced at his companions, who were both now staring intently at him and Kalista. Gregory in particular was trying to follow the conversation but it flowed to quickly for him to do more then pick up a handful of words here and there. He looked back to Kalista and nodded.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty, for being so bold but I must ask, who are you?" He said, needing confirmation on what he knew to be the truth.

Kalista laughed. "How rude of me, I am the only remaining elf in Thoragloorin, and by right of nobility and marriage to the belated King's brother, I am it's Queen. Kalista Risingmoon is my name, I am the mother of the King you know, Kelnozz. It is because of me that he has the power he has now, the magic he no doubt wields and the position he has obtained."

"Kelnozz is a warrior, My Lady, he has no magic," Bobo explained.

"You are wrong!" Kalista snapped. "He has it, even if he is a warrior. It is deep within him and so much a part of him that he may not even realize it. I gave it to him when he was a baby fresh from the womb. It is a part of him."

Bobo hid the shiver that ran down his spine. If both his parents possessed magic, then what did he have hidden deep within him? He fought the urge to shake his head and instead turned his thoughts back on his confirmed grandmother.

"The crown upon the fountain we passed on the way here, in the great courtyard. That is the seal that must be destroyed," he said, speaking strongly.

Kalista laughed bitterly. "I know this, child, if you have no more to offer you are fools."

Bobo bristled at her condescension. "It can only be destroyed by the greatest fire within Thoragloorin, though what that is we do not know. The crown must be immersed in that flame and only then will the great seal surrounding the city be undone."

Kalista smirked. "I know of no flames in this city. There are forges, but the fires went out thousands of years ago."

Bobocateya took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Nonetheless we shall try, none of us intend to spend the rest of our lives here, it will be better then doing nothing."

Kalista eyed him warily for a moment. Finally she spoke, "Hold, let my men investigate these things. Stay here as my guests while they do so. I would enjoy hearing tales of the outside world. It has been... a long time, since I have heard anything of it."

Bobo turned to his companions and relayed the offer. Nathanial was excited at the prospect of having to do nothing other then live like a king for a few days while the dog-men did all the work for them. Gregory seemed quiet and uninterested, only wanting a chance to be alone. So it was that Bobo turned back to Kalista and accepted her offer. She had her servants show them to rooms and promised to meet with them later for a dinner... a formal dinner that she had not participated in for many thousands of years.

Each was taken to a separate room, with servants outside of each, though all three recognized them as guards. They were left with few choices other then cleaning up and preparing for dinner, biding their time as best they could until they were summoned.

Dinner was a strange and spicy meat none of the men recognized. It tasted good though, so they decided it was best not to ask. Conversation consisted mainly of Kalista asking them questions about the outside world. In particular how Kelnozz was doing and how the elves in general faired compared to the rest of the world. When she learned of Narellin's demise at the hands of Darakor, Kelnozz's confused son, her eyes widened in disbelief and then anger. After a few moments she calmed down and a great sadness seemed to come over her. She eyed them suspiciously from that point on, however.

At no point did Bobo explain his relationship to her. Her moods were too varied and her interests were held too close to heart; he remained uncertain about her. Dinner was soon over and the guests were allowed to wander about the palace some. Always some of the doguren were close by, and without a doubt they all knew they were being watched.

They retired to their rooms that night, each thinking their own thoughts and wondering what the others really had in mind. Bobo had warned them as quietly as possible in the tongue of men to keep their thoughts and words to themselves, she was a powerful sorceress and the doguren were far from her only way of keeping track of them. Gregory had seemed pained at the time, he clearly wanted to say something, but he bit his tongue and kept it to himself.

The night turned into days, and within a week the three from Innowendyn realized that little was being done. Kalista would tell them there had been no success yet, but she was working hard on it. After all, her freedom meant as much to her as theirs did to them, why would she dally? Meals came and went with her increasingly absent. The only thing to improve was Gregory's skill with the bastardized elvish that the Doguren spoke. Gregory also seemed somewhat content with their wait, it gave him time to study the great many magical devices and contraptions in the palace, though all were considered minor enchantments, the way they were used fascinated him.

A week stretched in to two and then into three. The companions grew irritated beyond belief, and Kalista's presence more and more rare. Days would go by at a time without seeing her, and when at last they did any questions Bobo asked were deflected. It was soon obvious to them. They were prisoners. Prisoners within a prison, no less. The irony of it was not lost on them.

Chapter 9

The shadow slipped down from where it had tightly positioned itself in the corner above the doguren that walked its patrol. Its short fall to the floor was noiseless, so lightly did it land. It grabbed the dog-man around the neck with one gloved hand and another went to the back of its head, propelling the surprised guard solidly into a stone wall. The thud that resulted was probably enough to ensure its unconsciousness, but to make sure the figure switched both hands to its throat and squeezed until it stopped moving.

The doguren was pulled off to the side then the figure moved on, cowl pulled tightly over its face. It walked down the first hallway where one of the three companions was sleeping. This one was the wizard, Gregory. The doguren stationed outside his door looked up, sensing the cloaked figures approach. It reacted in surprise, barking out in its language demanding to know who the stranger was.

The answer came in the form of a dagger plunging into the dog-man's throat as the figure pretended to walk past it, then sprung into action. The doguren tried to yip out an alarm but between the blade that had cut its throat and another dagger that slipped between its ribs and into its lungs, it found its breath and then its life stolen from it. It was lowered silently to the ground and the assassin paused, looking in both directions for any sign of discovery. After several tense moments the figure moved, nothing had come.

A lock pick appeared in the gloved hand and in moments the door was open. Gregory was sitting at a desk studying a glowing light contained within a shaped cone of metal, projecting the light much like a hooded lantern might. He was oblivious to the danger behind him. So much so that he tried to jump out of his chair when a hand clad in a leather glove firmly wrapped around his mouth and pulled his head back.

*****

Nathanial was busy working himself into a sweat in his room, stretching and exercising as best he could in the confined quarters. Denied exodus from the palace, he was also denied a chance to jog to keep himself in shape. He made do with the rest of his exercises, both for form, muscle strength, and endurance, but he sorely missed the opportunity to run.

He was finishing with his last set of stretches when he felt a presence above him. He rolled over quickly and looked up, seeing nothing at first. Then he realized there was something above him. Much higher above him. Someone was on the ceiling, staring down at him. He gazed in shock, wondering how it was possible anyone could cling to the ceiling, even though the person had their arms and legs stretched out into the corners of the walls for tension.

Nathan opened his mouth and breathed in deeply, ready to shout out an alarm. Halfway through his breath something hit him in the stomach, catching him unaware and knocking his breath out of him. He doubled over in surprise then realized his mistake. Before he could recover the wall-crawling invader had leapt off the wall straight at him.

Nathanial straightened in time to catch the an open palm in his chest, knocking the wind out of him again and sending him crashing to the ground. His attacker landed with him, leaping to its feet after a quick roll. Nathanial tried to struggle back up himself but the figure dropped on his chest, one knee pressing painfully down on him and threatening to crack his ribs. One of the unknown assassin's hands went to his neck, resting firmly but not choking. The other hand moved up almost slowly in front of the hooded face and raised a single finger, the universal symbol for silence.

Nathanial stared into the blackness that concealed the face of the person on top of him for a long time. Nowhere could he see any skin, the person was completely covered in dark leather, either a tunic, pants, gloves, or boots. Only its face was hidden by the shadow of the dark brown cloth cloak. He nodded, knowing that, at the moment, his attacker had the advantage.