Crown: Chapter 1

UNINVITED GUESTS

Eight Years After The Escape

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“Not alone!”

The words ripped through Rayph’s head and he jumped to action. Papers and scrolls rioted about the table, flying up in a flurry as he fought his way to his feet.

“Boss, we are not alone!” Smear said.

Rayph looked at his desk in Ironfall and cursed. He leapt out the window behind him, out of the magistrate’s office and into the air. His fly spell took effect and he lifted into the sky.

Smear’s call summoned every member of the Manhunters to the middle of the street overlooking the great fall to the sheer drop off beyond. There, suspended in the air, hung six figures in cloaks, staring down with hard faces at the Manhunters assembling. Rayph joined his crew in the streets and touched his fetish.

“Dran, bow,” Rayph said. Since the soldier woman had joined their crew, Dran had proved to be more resourceful than Dreark and less combative. She pulled her bow from her back and in less than a breath lowered an arrow on the cloaked man in front. Sisalyyon took the form of a woman made of wood and slowly pulled two thin clubs from her hip. Trysliana rested her hand on her sword handle and dropped to a knee.

It was an odd pose, a submissive pose, and the hovering figures stared at it. Smear pulled his fist daggers and positioned himself behind Trys. Rayph stepped forward and pointed his sword at the apparent leader.

“Why do we not rip you from the sky?” Rayph said.

“Out of character, for one,” a tan, simply dressed wizard said. He had a kind face. His arms, relaxed at his sides, did not speak of a man who came to fight. He held a rod, three feet, no bigger, but Rayph sensed an enormous amount of power residing within the object.

“What do you know about my character?” Rayph asked.

“Are you going to play it like this? Like we don’t know who we are talking to or what to expect from you?” a blond man said. He sported a tall mohawk and wore a leather robe with ripped off sleeves. He pointed a finger at Trysliana and smiled.

“Trysliana Crillian, also known as Fringe, Dents, Marred, and The Sweet. A slippery woman to pin down, for sure. Known to be impossible to track and deadlier than an angry viper, intelligent, beautiful and powerful beyond reason. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I look forward to talking in depth with you about your trainer, Beaten Rask.

“She kneels before Smearfanalioneftylmor Kond. Known to all as Smear, the spy that found Terment, the hunter of the Darklings of Teyrend, the one man more slippery than Trysliana, though nowhere near as deadly.

“Sisalyyon of the Cherry Tree. Half dryad, half human, the balm to all things natural, the princess of Pantilon, the love of none, though courted by many.

“Dran Demar, the head of the Court Guard of Nardoc, the most devastating warrior in your band. Daughter of the Eastern Gate and most brilliant strategic mind this country boasts. Incorruptible, unshakable, unstoppable. The greatest archer of your band as well. The only one of you I fear.

“Then there is Rayph Ivoryfist, Rayph Tellamore. We do not have time for me to regale us all with his powers. All I can say is I came prepared for him, though I would never want to fight him.”

“You know who we are, true enough,” Rayph said. “But who are you?”

“I am Thrak Debane, librarian and duelist of the Callden Collective. This is my brother Ithyryyn,” the mohawked one motioned to a man in blue robes hovering to his left. “This is Gale Summerstone.” The man with the rod nodded. “Tate Mestlven,” Thrak motioned to a young man in gray robes, “Roth Callden,” he motioned to another young man, wearing wizard’s robes and a massive sword. “And this is Quill. She was our method of tracking you down.” He pointed to a beautiful woman in white robes.   

“Why do you come to our headquarters uninvited?” Rayph said. “Why meet us here where we hide?”

Thrak lifted into the air and Quill drifted where he had hovered. She was beautiful and serious. She hid her hands within the folds of her robe and was obviously nervous. “We came as friends, and we waited to find you here. We needed to approach you on your ground, where you would feel empowered and safe. We wanted to meet you in strength.”

“Why?” Smear said.

“We are more powerful than you,” she said with no apparent arrogance. “It only suits that we would meet you on your turf, in a place where you would be at your best.”

Rayph did not like the way that sounded. He gripped his sword tighter. From the left came the boy Roth. Fourteen, maybe fifteen. He wore a red robe with the sleeves rolled up. From his back hung a massive sword. His hair was red and short cut on top. He had kind blue eyes and his smile soothed Rayph.

“I am here to talk to you about Fannalis and the Thorn Brothers. We came in force in case you were not ready to meet, but time is growing short and I need that dagger.”

Rayph felt the world pull in tight. His head lightened and he stepped forward. “How do you know about Fannalis?”

Roth held his hands out where Rayph could see them. With his left, he reached into his robe and pulled out a long keen rapier. He held it before Rayph’s eyes and laid it out on his palms.

“Have you ever seen this?” Roth said.

Rayph nearly passed out. He struggled to keep his feet and stepped closer. As he neared the boy, the group of wizards grew more nervous. They pulled in tight and The Manhunters did as well. Rayph held them all back with a gesture.

“That can’t be Ran-toc,” Rayph said.

Roth closed his fingers around the rapier handle, and it sprouted thorns that skewered the boy’s hand. “This is Ran-toc. Are you ready to talk?”

Rayph nodded dumbly and ushered them all into the city.

“Roth, I have heard your name from a great friend of mine, but I have not had time to come look for you.” Rayph looked at the boy again and back to the rapier.

“Who mentioned our Roth?” Ithyryyn said. He smiled with a pleasant face.

“His name is Glimmer, he is—”

“Glimmer knows of me?” Roth asked, excited. In that moment he looked nothing more than a child.

“He does,” Rayph said. “He told me to find you, that you would help me complete my quest. Said you could help me go home.” At the word home, Rayph felt a sudden tolling in his heart. A longing jumped up and seized him. He looked at Smear who nodded and walked away.

“Do you still have Fannalis?” Roth asked.

“And Leteral and Geterel.”

Roth laughed. “You jest.”

“About this, I never jest. I have them. They were given to me by Glimmer.”

“Then all we need is Betamus, Harloc, and the Smith.” Roth said it so simply, as if the feat was nothing to fear or find daunting.

“It will not be as easy as that,” Rayph said. “I’ve been trying to unite them for ten thousand years.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know Quill.” He motioned to the woman beside him. “And you had no Table of Glistening to attend you,” Roth said.

“What do you need?” Rayph said.

“I need a laboratory and a summoning room,” Roth said. “I will need to bring in a few things from home, and I will need you to accompany me after I find the others. You will go a long way toward smoothing things out. You are known everywhere.”

“Look about the city and take any building still vacant,” Rayph said. “Will your friends be staying?”

“They will be in and out,” Roth said. “You will deal mostly with me.”

Rayph stopped and stepped before the young man. “We are going to set them free. This is not about slavery.”

“I am of the Callden Collective. We do not tolerate slavery, nor unwarranted captivity. Since I first heard of the Thorn Brothers, my only goal has been to set them free.” Roth smiled. “I think we can do it.”

Rayph looked the young man in the face and felt a kick of excitement. He had no reason to, but when he looked into Roth’s eyes, he felt the warm glow of hope.

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