CHAPTER FOUR

  MYSTERIES ON THE BALCONY

  Upon the grand balcony that connected to his throne room, King Gideon Brock, ruler of The Human Kingdom Lands, paced back and forth intermittently as he looked out at the temple of Elion that stood beautifully in the middle of his capital city of Aubrelon. After hearing the doors to his throne room open and close, King Brock heard the familiar clanking of a staff growing louder and louder. As he turned, the older, yet still formidable king saw Falldrim walk onto the balcony.

  “I see Rialton has not yet arrived, my king?” stated the ancient sage. “Nor Noltas?”

  King Brock watched as his wisest advisor and the strongest wizard in his kingdom walked the remaining distance and then stood by his side.

  When Falldrim grabbed his staff with both hands and leaned on it, King Brock looked back over all of Aubrelon.

  “No. But I am sure they will not be much longer. If Rialton has returned from the wyvern hunt with Captain Shaddox as I have been told, he will not delay in coming to the much more comfortable surroundings of this castle,” replied King Brock. Then he smiled. “Yes, the temple he heads is beautiful, but here he will not be pulled to and fro by the other clerics after being gone so long.” After Falldrim gave a short laugh, Brock continued. “As for Noltas…”

  “As for Noltas, what?” came a voice toward the balcony entrance.

  Seeing his closest friend and the finest of his Valor Masters, King Brock leaned back against one of the short walls that the balcony was attached to as the sword master walked toward him.

  “…he is never late,” finished Brock, nodding slightly at Noltas with a grin.

  “Your Highness,” bowed the warrior, who like his king was older yet still in impeccable shape.

  “Come now. At ease. It is only us three,” commanded King Brock, as he looked at the closest people he had known aside from his dearly departed Queen Marianna.

  Standing straight again, Noltas looked out at the bustling city in front of him and then back at the old sage and his king. “The other Valor Masters have been made known, and are eager, if the time comes, to escort Queen Rayma and Prince Basrak back to The Dwarven Kingdom if King Ironhearth sends message to us that the women, children and older dwarves must flee the mountains.”

  Then he nodded with assurance and continued, “Their queen and prince along side them in the journey will surely put them at ease if they must stay here till the fighting is over.”

  “Dormir is strong, as is his army. From The Watchers of the High Mountain down to the miners who have exchanged their pick axes for battle axes, but this Lord Grimdall is powerful,” spoke King Brock, his voice trailing off as he looked back over Aubrelon.

  “So you will call Landon Rosser by his new name?” prodded Noltas. Then he tapped the hilt of his sword and looked at Falldrim. “Well, sage? There are many wizards, mages, sorcerers and sorceresses, whatever you prefer to be called, but the most powerful ones, like our king’s Valor Masters, I can count on but one hand. They are you, my dear Falldrim, Elf Queen Ilsa Lightshower, the master of The Wizard Citadel Tharadol Meiss and, though he has been cooped up in that tower of his for years upon years, Fabrist Wayland the Shadowmage.”

  King Brock watched as Falldrim leaned off of his staff and stood tall, his face wrinkled, but his eyes were clear as the skies over The Elven Forest.

  “Tell me. How powerful do you think Lord Grimdall is? Is he now the final finger on my hand?” finished the sword master.

  “There is no way that Landon Rosser could have already learned the magic that Prince Basrak described,” replied Falldrim. “He has found something, or something has found him, to not only give him new powers, but new armor and name.” Then the sage paused for a moment. “Does he truly rival myself and the others you mentioned? I do not yet know, but suffice it to say, all the fingers on your hand have now all been accounted for.”

  After Falldrim finished, the bustling sounds of Aubrelon grew louder as the three men became silent. The sage’s declaration was what both King Brock and Noltas had figured, but to finally hear it from Falldrim, and Falldrim finally admitting it to himself out loud, had brought the discussion to a halt, if only for a few moments. Then they all looked up as they saw Rialton walk onto the balcony.

  Upon seeing the two other men with King Brock, the old head cleric of Aubrelon breathed quickly then cleared his throat, trying to mask his worry. “King Brock, I came as soon as I could. I assumed this meeting was just between us. I pray all is well?”

  “Well enough, my friend. How was the wyvern hunt?” smiled King Brock. “ I am sure Captain Shaddox kept you from harm.”

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  “Captain Shaddox is not just one of the strongest of the knights of Aubrelon, but the most gracious of your knights as well, your highness. I was safe and without want.” Rialton bowed graciously. Then his face brightened with excitement. “I even met the wonderful head cleric of Valtross. A lovely woman. We were actually assisted by her and her friends when we first caught up to the winged beasts. They were on their way to Tanisgroth, I believe,” continued Rialton, rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes as he tried to remember the chance encounter. “Yes, that was it. All that is left that direction is The Cloud Shroud Mountain. I am sure she would not be going there.”

  Upon hearing about the cleric of Valtross and her friends, King Brock, Falldrim and Noltas looked at each other, their eyes widening a little.

  “While you were gone, I had a visitor from The Holy City. He came with the most interesting of news,” announced King Brock.

  “Oh, that is too bad. Was it Aldon? I missed him the last time he was here. If there was one Brethren I would steal from the high priest it would be him,” said Rialton, with a mix of happiness and disappointment. Then the old man’s face brightened. “We were both clerics in Parnigal, if you remember…”

  “No, my friend. It was Balcon,” answered King Brock, cutting off the kindly cleric.

  “Balcon…?” answered Rialton, with a dirty look that he tried in vain to hide. Then after he looked from King Brock to Falldrim and Noltas, who were looking back at him with serious faces, the cleric of Aubrelon was speechless.

  “Like Falldrim, you have not only lived long, you are wise, especially when it comes to Elion. You may not be the high priest, but I would say that you rival him, or even Balcon, in your knowledge of the god of all creation and the lore that has grown around him,” began King Brock. Seeing Rialton’s face now as serious as his own, the sage's and the sword master's, Brock continued. “The legend of the Scepter Sword. Do you believe it?”

  Taken aback, Rialton gripped his staff harder. Then he stepped to the balcony and looked over the capital city. As he looked at the merchants, travelers, knights of Aubrelon and everyday residents going about their day, his eyes moved to the temple of Elion where he served. The building was nowhere near the size of The Temple of Unfaltering Devotion in The Holy City, but it was still considered one of the crown jewels of the kingdom. Much like the castle he stood in now was a monument to King Brock’s power and grandeur in Aubrelon, the temple that Rialton headed was a monument as well, only not to himself but to the god of all creation’s grace and healing.

  “There are some who believe the legend without a doubt. Some, I think, say they believe because they want it to be true,” said Rialton, turning from the balcony and looking back at King Brock. Then after looking at both Falldrim and Noltas, Rialton continued. “I lie somewhere in the middle. I take by faith that Elion gives us what we need. If the Scepter Sword is real it will be found. If it is only a fable, that changes nothing.

  After the old cleric tapped his staff on the ground, his face filled with resolve. “Elion’s spirit is still here, or we clerics could not continue to heal. That is what matters above all else. Whether the King Priest or his powerful weapon existed, or that Elion really gave it to the first mortal ruler of Danaria has been debated by many, clerics or otherwise.”

  After Rialton placed both hands around his staff he continued, “I know a rumor that for generations the high priests have had one of the three Holy Stones of Elion that is needed to awaken the weapon’s power…but the high priests, whether Liam Jarstinian or his predecessors, and the Brethren that serve and council with them, have refused to speak of it when asked. Nor will they speak of the other Stones that are supposedly in the hands of the Shadowmage in the Tower of Mystics and Magic, and at the top of The Cloud Shroud Mountain guarded by the dragon Firebaugh.”

  Then Rialton smiled uncomfortably. “The high priests. The Brethren. They will not budge. I know. I have asked both Jarstinian and Aldon more than once.”

  “You said you met the cleric of Valtross as she traveled with friends to Tanisgroth. What did her friends look like?” asked Noltas, when the old cleric fell silent again.

  “It was an interesting group to say the least, sword master,” began Rialton. “Anya traveled with her sister, who was most likely a thief, by the looks of her. There was also a mercenary with a mystic wolf, an old wizard, a young elven archer, as beautiful as any in their forest kingdom...”

  Then the old cleric ran his thumb up and down over his staff as he thought. “Oh yes. How could I forget, a young but formidable Knight of Providence. I assumed he was escorting her and her sister on a journey and that the others joined them after that. I only spoke to Anya as we healed the injured knights. Then Captain Shaddox continued the wyvern hunt with haste, believing we not only had the upper hand but that we were close to their lair.”

  “A Knight of Providence, you say,” replied Falldrim, looking over at Noltas. Then the old sage looked at King Brock, who began to twist the gray hairs of his beard.

  “Yes, why do you ask?” said Rialton, looking at the sage and then the sword master.

  After a few seconds of silence, King Brock crossed his arms and looked over at Rialton.

  “My King. You said that Brethren Balcon came with most interesting news. What did he say?” asked Rialton, nervously.

  “I do not think I will ever forget his words,” declared King Brock as he looked at the three men before him. “Go to Dwarf King Ironhearth’s aid if need be. But I was sent to tell you this. Knowledge of the location of the Scepter Sword of the King Priest has been revealed to us. And we have sent a small group to acquire it.”

  “The prophecy…” whispered Rialton, his eyes widening.

  “Yes, Rialton. The Scepter Sword will be found again when Danaria needs it most,” spoke Falldrim, calmly and clearly.

  Hearing a loud voice nearing the throne room doors, King Brock and the others took one last look at the capital city as the first stars began to appear in the sky. Then when they made it back into throne room, the doors crashed open and an exhausted messenger handed King Brock a sealed scroll.

  Once he took the scroll, Brock turned it over to look at the wax seal. “It is from Tanisgroth.” Then he broke the wax and opened the scroll. After a few moments he rolled it back up and remained quiet.

  “Well, Gideon, what does it say?” asked Noltas, forgetting all royal protocol as he spoke to his best friend.

  Both Falldrim and Rialton gripped their staffs tighter in anticipation as they waited for their king to answer. A moment later Brock looked over at the three most important men in his kingdom, with eyes wide. Then he spoke.

  “The top of The Cloud Shroud Mountain has crumbled. Firebaugh is dead.”