 
Click Here Return to Home Page Read First Chapter Judges of Light - Vol 2 - Cas of Castledance "Miscreants, betrayers, assassins," yelled Cas. The tunnel, which had been felled by Azan and Wit just timins before was still raining down pebbles and dust. "You will not find it so easy to escape me," sobbing with the reactions of the past hafan and from the settling dust, Cas made his way out of the tunnel. "Have this mess cleaned up as soon as possible," he coughed, "and the way cleared. Send word to Novar of the prisoners' escape." The orders given, he retraced his steps to his father's bedside. His head throbbed with the blow from Wit's sword. Over and over in his mind like the lyrics of an unwanted song, replayed the look on Wit's face, and the sound of his voice as he said, "one can never explain murder." His mind torturously echoed Azan's words, "Question your father well, Cas. There were people murdered." Murder. For all he knew, his father lay dying in his bed from a blow delivered by his best friend. With his head swimming and heart breaking, he searched his father's face as though in repose it could give him the answers he craved. Cas, once a replica of his father's appearance-along with his golden hair and eyes, could find no resemblance in the pain-lined grey visage lying before him. Caspar's breathing was shallow. It was as though he did not desire to take deep life giving breaths. His chest barely rose with the effort. Cas, with each fluttering breath, cursed his former friends. All within Cas' mind was confusion. 'Azan, our long time family friend and commander of Castledance, has betrayed us. Why? He has apparently rescued the scouting party from the Ministry in Delflia and fled with them and the other prisoners.' With his own eyes he saw his closest friend, Wit, strike the blow that incapacitated his father. When he had run to his father's side Wit must have hit him also to facilitate their escape. To add to his distress, the castle healer apparently went with Captain Azan and the others. His father might be dying. Caspar's eyelids fluttered, and Cas tightened the grasp on the hand lying so still within his on the coverlet. "Father, speak to me. Father, waken. It is I, Cas, calling you. I need you to tell me what is happening. Please father . . ." When there was no response from the still figure before him, Cas buried his face in the coverings giving in for the moment to his despair. "Sir," the sentry who entered the room unobserved cleared his throat, "I have a report, and Cap'n Novar wishes to speak with you as soon as possible." "Not here, and not now, sentry," Cas answered wearily, "I don't want to leave my father." "They'll be none of that, young master," the matronly delffar entered the room bearing a tray for her stricken master. "Leave him to Brona, I've been caring for the sick since before you were born. I'll see him through this. You best be about shoring up the morale of this strange hulking place. Folks are that upset." "We have a visitor, sir," the sentry blurted, "says she is a High Judge, that she comes from the High One, our Lord Caspar's friend, that is. She has been asking questions, and giving orders. No one knows what to do. Cap'n Novar sent me with the orders, "For mercy sakes, bring young Caspar as soon as possible." ." Sighing Cas rose to his feet. "I wish I knew what to tell everyone. Oh well, lead on sentry, take me to our guest." Seeing the sentry frown he soothed him, "I suppose she should come to me, but I can't be bothered with protocol at a time like this, Nop. Report to me along the way. Who is this visitor who descends upon us at this inopportune moment? Brona, see that no one disturbs him," Cas called over his shoulder to the delffar as he reached the door. "Bring me word the moment he wakens." "That I will young master, that I will." The sentry spurted, sounding aggrieved, "She says her name is Jacedama, and that Minister Caspar expects her. She's been giving orders since she stepped into the Captain's room."1 "Sir, is it true that Cap'n Azan turned traitor and attacked our lord? The castle is buzzing with rumors. The prisoners have all escaped. No one knows what to do." "I know the feeling well, Sentry Nop. I am bewildered myself. Set rumor at rest. Captain Azan has turned traitor, but it was not he who struck my father, it was," Cas found it difficult to pronounce Wit's name, "one of the prisoners. What is being done to capture them?" "Cap'n Reyo organized and led a squad up the mountain as soon as the tunnel caved in. Cap'n Novar told him they would be making their escape up Lightnin' Dance." Nop was relaxing now that he was in the presence of his Lord's son. At last he felt he was telling someone who could grasp the reins of the castle and set it to rights. "They'll find 'em, sir, and bring 'em back." Sentry Nop led Cas to a fairly large room with no decoration save a large high table that filled more than half of it. It was in this room that the captains poured over maps, and scrolls. Since it was used mostly for studying strategy and giving orders, there were no seats. Standing regally surrounded by two servants and Captain Novar, the High One was berating the captain in frozen tones, for the lack in her reception. "I know Lord Caspar was expecting my arrival, it does not bode well for our association that he is unwilling to receive me." "A thousand pardons, Your Grace," Cas humbly sent his voice before him into the room. "If my father were able, he most certainly would receive you. I have just come from his bedside where he lies grievously ill, stricken by a traitor's hand." Quickly he strode to the High One and grasping her hand bowed low over it in reverence. "If I may be of service to you on his behalf, you have but to command me. I am Caspar, son of Caspar. Allow me to conduct you to rooms where you may refresh yourself." Somewhat mollified, Jacedama allowed herself to be escorted from the room to a spacious guest suite where she was invited to make her home. Eyeing the room with scant approval she commanded, "Caspar, I will need to hear more of what has befallen your father. As I have some knowledge of healing I should like to be taken to him at once." Relieved Cas eagerly assented, "Oh, thank you, Your Grace. Our healer has disappeared. I've not known what to do. Come, I will take you to my father, and explain as I may on the way." He offered his arm, and the High One graciously accepted it. He escorted her to his father's palatial rooms. "There is not really a great deal I can tell you about why my father was attacked, Your Grace. I came into the room just as our former commander drew his sword against my father. You have met Captain Azan, have you not?" At Jacedama's nod he continued, "My friend Wit, a guest of my father's, was also holding a sword. It was most unexpected. I believe other prison . . . er, guests of my father were using a secret passage hidden in the room. They, the two with swords, appeared to be defending their departure." "There is no need to prevaricate with me, young Caspar, I believe you are telling me that some prisoners of your father's were escaping with the help of your SunCaptain? Was this friend of yours one of his prisoners?" "I believe so," his golden eyes dropped before the inquisition in the High One's gaze. He really did not want to talk about Wit, it hurt too much. When she remained silent as though waiting to be told more, reluctantly he added, "I saw my friend strike my father down by the flat of his sword on his forehead, and then club him squarely on the back of his neck. When I came over to see to my father, I was also clubbed, and rendered unconscious. When I came to, I was being helped up by the SunCaptain. The room was in chaos. It was completely burned out, a fact I hadn't realized in the stress of the moment, but it seemed an old fire. At least some of the mess was cleared. There were two dead sentries lying on the floor . . . The SunCaptain told me . . ." a slight squeeze on his arm from Jacedama warned Cas the High One was too intensely interested in what was said. Some instinct warned him not to mention exactly what Azan told him. Instead he finished feebly, "Azan said that he was sorry. He leapt for the ladder up the chimney and escaped through what I know to be a tunnel. My father loves intrigue. He built tunnels all over the castle. Azan knew of them, of course, he was our trusted friend." He choked, and fell silent. Cas did not want to tell her more until he had the opportunity to assimilate it himself. As they reached his father's door, he begged to be excused. Captain Novar was still waiting to speak with him. "One moment, young Caspar," she detained him. "It would please me if you would call me Cas, as my father does, Your Grace. It minimizes the confusion." "Cas," she actually almost smiled, "yes, that does seem to fit you better. I assume there are searchers out looking for the escaped prisoners?" "Most assuredly, Your Grace. I believe captain Novar has word for me now." Imperiously she demanded, "Bring me word of all developments. I will want to question them closely when they are captured. Meanwhile, you will prepare for the visit of High Judge Iconedan. He is coming to remove a patient in your castle to his own healers. She lies ill in your healing room, I believe." Her words sent a chill through the delf. That particular High One he had already met, and did not desire to be questioned by him. He knew the old elf High Judge Iconedan considered him frivolous. Cas already felt as though he had been run over by a road leveler. "I will need servants to fetch for me, Cas." The High Judge before him interrupted his introspection to demand. "I will send my father's attendants in at once," his inborn politeness returned. "As soon as I may I will return myself to assist you." "I will send for you if you are needed," she dismissed him. She was already planning to strip Caspar's mind while he was helpless in his weakened condition. It could be done. She had seen the undants do it to a man who was ill. He was repressing memories that were causing his illness. The undant healer forced him to tell what he repressed so they could help him. The man never knew what he said, but they were able to heal him as a result. What she planned to do was somewhat different. Her lord would expect her to seize such an opportunity. Icon wanted to know what Caspar was planning. There would be no better opportunity. She knew exactly what to do, and with her skill, Caspar would not even know what was done to him. Apart from a few side effects, he would suffer no ill. All she needed was a few hours alone. After she extracted all the information she wanted from him, then she would see to his healing. Cas left the room with alacrity. Sending in his father's personal attendants, he breathed a sigh, and went in search of Captain Novar. He found him in the large dining hall for the captains. Novar was examining the point of the stylus with which his commands were being written as he sipped at his warm cuppa. He stood to his feet and saluted Cas who waved him to a seat, and dropped into one himself. Cas hadn't slept for two days, and his eyes felt weighted with sand. Knuckling the sleep from his eyes he told Novar of their revered impending visitor, "That Lordly High One, Iconedan is coming for a visit. Make certain that all is made ready for him. One bossy High One is enough to deal with. Have you had any word back from the company you sent out to track the escaped prisoners?" "Before I report Master Cas, you should know that the ill prisoner Her Grace spoke of has escaped with Captain Azan. She is kin to the High Judge Iconedan, young master, and an elffar of great consequence. His Excellency will not take well to the news, nor, I imagine, will Her Grace who has just arrived. He was most angry to discover her presence here. Your father informed me he would be arriving to take her away this day." "And she is not here?" "No, sir." "He will be even more angry, no doubt. That at least explains Wit's part in it. There is always a lady involved in his adventures somehow, but I would not have thought it of Azan. Ah well, there is nothing for it but to brazen it out. His Grace will most likely aid in their soonest capture, if she is so important." "As you say, young sir. The newly fallen snow, however, will have obliterated any trace of the way they went." "Then what are the odds of finding them?" "There are only three options open to them as I see it. They could have gone north toward the pass, but that is unlikely as Azan knows the road is patrolled. They could have gone over the mountain and down making for the road to her ladyship's kingdom . . . " "Kingdom? My father captured an elf queen?" "Aye, young master, the Historian." "He captured the Lady Fiarah? I can't believe it." Cas clutched at his hair until the golden strands stood on end. "Why, Novar? Why would my father depart from his general policy of the treatment of the fair elffari so far as to capture one, and why one as powerful and high born as the Historian?" Cas met the beautiful Historian on several state occasions at her summer court. He couldn't see how his father dared to take her prisoner. She is related to the High One! What now? His Grace, the High One Iconedan's wrath was about to erupt upon them for her escape. Could escape be the right word? Wearily he again rubbed his eyes, and the scratchy growth of two days golden beard on his face. "Is there more disastrous news than this? Tell me, Novar, of what use to him was the Lady Fiarah to be?" "She would have been his eyes in far off places. That High Judge Boledan just got greedy, and tried to take her powers." Novar's tone of voice said he didn't think much of Boledan. "There was some sort of battle, his talent against hers." He stressed the words as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. "It was almost to the death for both of them. His Grace, Iconedan, came to collect Boledan for something or other, and found them in that burnt out room. Boledan was swooning, and His Grace's own brotherdaughter he found ill unto death." "And this is the lady Wit and Azan rescued? I can understand their anger at her ill treatment. This still doesn't explain why, if they knew her fatherbrother was coming to get her all this was necessary." "Captain did know . . ." Novar bit off the words. He realized he was revealing too much. "Azan was taking her from her own kin, the Lord High Judge? You think Zan was abducting her?" He asked incredulously. "I believe he will try to return her to Lord Upso. He feared for her life," Novar revealed reluctantly. "The lady was terribly weak. The going was, to my mind, unnecessary." "You said there were three possibilities, Novar, what is the third?" His tired mind shied from comprehending the incomprehensible. "The third possibility, which I think is most likely, is that they have gone north hoping to hide in the mountain towns, and make their way down from Adamsoniaborough. There they could get help, and guards to see her safely home. That is what I believe Captain Azan would do. I told Reyo, and it should be only a matter of time until one of our scouts spots them." "I would not be so sure, Captain. Zan knows the mountains almost as well as Wit. I don't think they will be found, and I think further search a wasted effort. Only a sorcerer could find them now, or the High Judge. What most concerns me is the why of it. Why, Captain Novar, why did Azan betray my father? Why, if the Lady's own kin was coming for her, would he interfere?" Novar coughed hesitantly, and ventured a reply, his own disillusionment kept behind rigid barriers in his own heart, "Young sir, I do not know. One moment he was questioning the prisoners, and the next he was engineering their escape." "Had my father said or done anything to offend him?" Captain Novar did not meet Cas' eyes. Full well he knew that Cas did not know all that his father condoned to bring about his dream. He did not feel it his place to enlighten him. Finally he found the words, "I have not seen, or known of anything your father did to the captain." Cas could see that the captain had seen a great deal that he had no intention of telling the son. Perhaps he could find out what he needed to know another way. "Tell me, captain, the room where you found me and my father was burned. All the interior of which my father was so proud was gutted. You said there was a battle? Why, by all the stars, would Boledan battle the Historian with fire?" "There was a sort of talent duel between the Lady Fiarah and that judge, Boledan . . ." The captain was clearly uncomfortable telling Cas even that much. "Lady Fiarah, and Boledan fought an arcane duel in my father's sitting room?" Cas was staggered. Until now such a duel was only legend of the battles during the war against Dominic. He could barely grasp the import of what Captain Novar was telling him. His father took the revered Historian captive. His tame High Judge fought to take away her talent. It was a wonder they had not pulled down the entire castle about their heads. "I believe the judge, Boledan, was trying to take her powers unto himself by dark magic means. From what I was able to gather, she fought him, and almost brought the castle down on us all defending herself. Boledan will never be the same, you can be sure. If the Lord High Judge, your father's friend, had not arrived when he did . . . Well, young Cas, we all would have been burned in the fire or buried under the mountain. The Historian almost killed herself fighting him. That's why she was in the healing room." Captain Novar paused in his telling to consider his next words, then spoke slowly. "I have hesitated to speak of this, young master, but the captain left me a letter, and one for your father. My letter turned over the command of the military to me, and listed your father's most recent orders. He spoke of his suspicions regarding the allegiance of one of our captains. He warned us not to trust the delffar High One who was coming to take Boledan's place. In light of . . ." "A letter, from Zan?" Cas interrupted. "I must read it at once, bring it to me, Captain, and my father's letter also." "Forgive me sire, but the letter I received, I do not wish to share. I will give your father's letter entrusted to my keeping only to your father. Your father may then share his as he sees fit. My letter did state that Azan disapproved of your father's treatment of his kin, the Lady Fiarah. He vowed to save her from further ill. I know he had no amity for that High Judge Iconedan, her other kin. He didn't trust him. He most emphatically did not want him to take her away." "His kin? Lady Fiarah is kin to Azan? How did that come about I wonder? Hmm, chivalry, yes, that might fit Zan, but why take Wit and the others?" Cas knew better than to argue further with Novar about the letters. The older captain was as close mouthed as his father could be on occasion. He would find out everything he needed to know some other way. "I imagine," Novar was still answering him, "that the captain wanted to travel fast and far, and needed them to take her to safety. I wouldn't be surprised to find they separated and scattered. I imagine that troll went to Leikangerborough." "Ah yes, the troll. I would call off the search, Novar, but I don't suppose we can now that the Historian is missing. What were my father's plans? Would you be willing to 'share' them with me? What is, or has been done?" The captain flushed uncomfortably, and answered readily, "A large segment of the army is marching on Lowen. We secured Leikangerborough two yestr. At least that troll will be captured when he sets foot in Leikangerborough. Most of the mountain towns as far as Berksey are under our control. We have scouts out combing the Giles for a portion of the scouting party from Lowen who eluded capture. There is little need, however, for the army will have cut off any avenues into Lowen until we have taken the Ministry. I don't need to tell you that we are moving somewhat sooner than we planned." Cas grimaced wryly, "No, you needn't tell me, I messed up. I don't think I've done much damage though. The Ministry in Lowen will still be sitting on their hands when the troops march up to the Hall doors, and Old Dupin will let them in." Casually he continued, "You have not told me of the Grassy Plains, Novar." "King Kallil has that firmly under control, Cas, he no longer needs us." If Novar was surprised by the question, he allowed none of the knowledge to show in his face. 'Oh, dash it,' thought Cas, 'he knows everything I need to know, and he won't bend an inch.' "Have any prisoners died here at the castle?" Cas decided a direct attack might work. Novar was having none of it. "Sir, I feel I am in no position to report to you on the situation. You know the two sentries were slain, you were there. All is in disorder since the captain left. I have taken over command simply because I was next in rank, but there are those who think they should assume control until Caspar decrees Azan's successor. We are emptying the fortress to march on Lowen. A battalion is going on over the Pass to Sangamon and Fentressen. Almost all will be gone by tomorrow save a few hundred to guard the castle. I will be leaving myself. Any questions you have regarding what has gone before is better answered by your father when he is well." "Now that a healer is here, that may be soon. I suppose I must wait until then. Thank you, Novar, other than calling off the searchers who could be put to better use, I have no advice for you." "Sir," blurted Novar, "I would not trust this new High One too far." His face was reddened from his presumption to speak against a High Judge, but he knew Caspar dreaded her arrival, just as Azan had written. "Your father did not ask her to come, she was sent, sent by his friend. I wouldn't be saying anything except your father, being ill, can't speak. I don't believe he completely trusts her." "Not trust a High One of Fentressen?" "I only know his lordship bade me watch her. I was to report to your father on her doings and commands before I carried them out." Cas could see he intended to say no more, and dismissed him with, "If there are any further developments, I know you will see to it that I am informed." Captain Novar saluted smartly, and took himself off to carry out his captain's last orders. He was no longer sure himself what he thought, or what he should do. After reading the reasons behind Azan's defection, he was confused and torn in his loyalties. He solaced himself with following orders as he had done most of his adult life. He owed a lot to Caspar. He would stand by him, right or wrong, just as Azan had known he would. Cas was more weary than he had ever been. His own head and neck throbbed where Wit struck him. His body yearned for the rest it was being denied. There was one more thing he must do; courtesy, and honor be hanged. He must learn the contents of those letters. He urgently needed to understand Azan's last words to him. "Question your father well, Cas. There were people murdered, Make him take you to the site. Some bodies were burned by sorcer fire, do not be taken in. I am leaving because I no longer support his choices. Care for him, convince him he is wrong." He heard Wit mutter something about bodies, and lings during the carriage ride. Surely Zan and Wit were not accusing his father of murdering lings? Stealthily Cas moved from the captain's dining hall to the corridors that led to their sleeping quarters. The letter, he reasoned, would be somewhere among the captain's personal belongings. He would read the captain's letter first, and if it did not explain things, he would read his father's also. He would rather take the responsibility for this action when his father could speak with him again than remain ignorant one more minim. It was too easy to find the letters. Thinking better of being caught in private quarters, he bundled the two scrolls into his tunic, and made his way back to his own rooms. Cas, his face reddened with shame at his discourtesy, rebelliously opened the unsealed scroll to read. Avidly he poured over the words he hoped would explain his friend's actions. My dear friend Novar; I am writing this in great perturbation of thought. I would never have supposed that I would resign from the service of my mentor Caspar, but I find myself doing just that. I release the command to you, who is closest to him next to myself, and ask you to care for him, as I would. Take command of his concerns, as you are the only one I can trust with the responsibility. Caspar has been deceived. That Lord High Judge, whom I consider to be out for his own ends, has influenced our lord with seductive words of benevolence and magnanimous leadership. Over the annums I have watched a caring, giving delf become determined to bring others to his will. The actions he has overlooked, excused or rationalized are beyond my power to justify. He will have a difficult time justifying them to his own son, and his friends. 'What actions, Zan?' Cas read on feverishly trying to find the answers he sought. I stood by while he allowed that sorcerer of a High Judge, Boledan, try to strip the Historian of her powers. Now he plans to give her over to the care of that High One Iconedan, whose evil intent I can't begin to measure. I care not whether he be kin to her or no. Because Caspar sanctioned this, I feel I must rectify his mistake, and rescue the lady. At least it will keep her from further abuse. She is my own kin as well, I won't stand by while she is destroyed. 'His kin,' thought Cas, 'how can that be? He does not say why he does not trust the High One, but no more, in truth, do I. It seems father did not completely trust him either, at least he made a few plans of his own.' Cas read on. The High One is sending another judge to be a spy in the camp. Do not trust him. Watch him, and report to Caspar everything that seems out of the ordinary, especially any order he may give. Cas read with some amusement that the he had become a she. Then it struck him that he left Jacedama alone with his father. Hurriedly he finished the letter. Caspar's last orders to me were to proceed with the capture of the mountain towns, continue the siege of Leikangerborough, and to take Lowen before they can send to Halft for assistance. The remainder of our troops are to be sent over the Pass to control the Old Road into Sangamon and Fentressen. You are a gilt, and gilt trained. You know how to command, I leave the fortress with you in confidence. If you feel you can follow these orders, do so, but I hope you will not succeed, for I hope Caspar does not succeed. I fear for him, and what the EDUTH has done to him. I go to fight the EDUTH, but I will not fight one who has been as a father to me. Tell him that, and try to temper his ambition with reason. He would not listen to me, I pray there is someone to whom he will listen. Your friend, Azan. Cas looked up from the letter staring blankly at the wall. 'What has the EDUTH done? Wit said, "murder, bodies," now Zan says, "have a hard time justifying it to his son." 'Zan, who was like a son to my father wouldn't accept it. By the stars,' he swore, 'accept what? There's nothing for it, I'll have to read Father's letter as well.' Feverishly he tore at the seal on the scroll, and unrolled it tearing it from the edge in his haste. Caspar, Minister of Delflia, Mentor, Friend; It pains me to bring you grief. I have told you repeatedly of my misgivings regarding recent events, but you chose to proceed against my advice. I repeat, the unnecessary killing of those who happened upon the fortress should have been reported to Lowen, and the guilty turned over to the Ministers for judgement. We were blameless in their deaths until we allowed murder to go unpunished. The slaughter on the Grassy Plains will haunt my dreams for annums. I will never forgive myself for being a part of it. The cold usurpation of power by that bloated toady of a sorcerer Boledan, may yet bring you ruin, for it has brought the attention of the High One to you. He is sending his spy not to assist you, but to assure that his control of your actions is secure. This you already know. Why am I deserting you, who have been as a father to me? The benevolence behind your dream, I have always valued. There are, as I have said, other avenues to introduce the concepts to our people. I have come to see that taking their choice away from them, even for their own good, is an intrinsic evil, Cas stopped reading for a moment. His own feelings on the matter were identical with Azan's. He also wondered why his father thought that the delves would willingly surrender to his plans for them. It was but one of the things he intended to question his father about when he spoke with him. He read again, . . . an intrinsic evil, one I feel that you were led into by that High One who calls himself a judge, but is in reality as forbidding as any Dark Sorcerer. Once choice is taken away, can submission be far behind? Once submission is in place, then what of autonomy? The use of the Lady Fiarah, forcing her compliance through threats and coercion was not my first disagreement with your current policies, as you well know. It did act as a catalyst firming my resolve when you allowed Boledan to bring her to the door of death through your lack of accurately assessing his hunger for power. My inclination to abandon your cause became reality when I realized you would allow your friend, Iconedan, to take the Historian away with him to exploit. The Godhead only knows in what manner. He would not temper his judgements with mercy toward her as you did. I will not allow this. I am taking the other prisoners with me as well. Wit is a healer, and she will have need of him. The others will see her to safety, and go to warn the judges what is about to befall them. Their warning will be too late, I fear. As for me, I will see them all to safety, and then I will go to join the fight against this evil High Judge in whatever way I may. Abandon your cause Caspar, it is not just. Go to the Ministers in Lowen and align yourself with them against the EDUTH before it is too late. Use your army not to subdue, but to defend. We will all have need of defense ere long. Can you not see King Kallil's betrayal of his people for the tyranny it is? Is he any more a king than he was before? Have not his actions diminished him in your eyes? If my arguments do not persuade you, I pray that someone will. Tell Cas all your plans, he will see as I do that enslavement, even to an ideal is not warranted. End this madness, I beg you. I have named Novar to succeed me, if this is your will. He will serve you well, listen to him. I bid you farewell, dearer than father. Azan "But he doesn't say what happened on the Grassy Plains, how did King Kallil betray his people, why will Azan's dreams be haunted? Again Cas read the letters, but no further answers were forthcoming. How long he stood in turmoil holding the letters, after their second reading, he didn't know. The anguish in Azan's words communicated themselves to the depths of his own doubts. He also questioned in his own mind whether or not their people would be so willing to accept ideals by force. 'Slaughter, tyranny, evil, sorcerers from Fentressen?' The words whirled in his tortured brain like a kaleidoscope of horror eliciting feelings not unlike those he experienced at his brother's death. He would have recognized the horror of death he saw in Wit's eyes that was now reflected in his own could he have but seen their reflection. Reeling along the corridors with the letters clutched in his hand, Cas made his way back to his father. He was tired beyond annums. Sleep was impossible while at his father's side, and now it was unthinkable. The only thought in his mind was that his father must talk to him, and tell him everything. Reaching the door he put forth his hand to open it, but the door was locked. Alarmed, he pounded on the door, but it did not open to him. At once Azan's words, and Novar's doubts concerning the 'spy' surfaced in Cas' mind. Ardently he dredged his mind for the secret passageways into his father's room. There was one for the servants that connected directly to the kitchens, and the other, private one, was . . . ah yes, under the stairs on the second level of the observatory tower. Lurching into a run holding the letters protectively to his chest, Cas made for the tower room. The concealed door under the stairwell opened on narrow steps leading downward. There were sconces on the wall, but the torches were feeble. His father used this passage exclusively, and the lights had not been replenished in days. Thrusting the letters into his tunic, he grabbed a burned out torch and dipped it in a pitch jar lined at intervals along the wall, no doubt for his father's convenience. He held it to a dimly burning brand. Stopping long enough to relight a few torches and set them again in the wall, he took his torch and proceeded along the long and winding walls. There were no openings along the route, and Cas suspected that it led only to his father's room. The tunnel came abruptly to an end. Before him was a stone hewn wall like all the rest of the wall. There was no way inside. Feeling every crevice in the rock he made his way along the surface. "I will not come all this way to be thwarted." He rammed the torch into the lone sconce on the wall, and the sconce fell forward, nearly dumping the torch on the ground. As smooth as silk a slit appeared in the wall, and light from the room beyond spilled into the tunnel. He took the letters from his tunic to confront his father. He was stopped from entering the room by the sound of his father's voice. Caspar's voice was speaking, but he sounded like he was talking from the end of a far tunnel. His voice was smooth, and devoid of emotion. Someone asked a low question, Cas assumed it was Jacedama, but the voice was too low to be heard. His father answered, "Yes, I ordered Reyo to dispose of anyone who wandered into our fortress. I wanted no witnesses to our construction. I went to great lengths to make the castle appear as part of the landscape. Until my plans were laid, I wanted no interference from Lowen. The fool left them littering the landscape instead of capturing them and sending them far away where they could not tell what they found. I ordered their bodies burned. There was no time to bury them. Wit was bringing a scouting party from Lowen, all would be discovered." Cas stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from crying out. This is what Wit saw, this is what "the bodies" meant. And his father "ordered" it. He had them burned! 'Oh, father!' He groaned within. Straining with all his might he heard, "This party is the prisoners who have now escaped? You captured them all?" "All but two, but my soldiers are out combing the woods for them, they will not elude me. I would have them all by now, but my commandant betrayed me, and led the escape of those in the dungeons." "Why did he betray you? Have you no loyal servants?" "He has disagreed with my policies in some instances, but he remained loyal. It was Wit who somehow persuaded him," for the first time Cas heard emotion seep into his father's voice. "I will kill him for this." 'Kill whom?' Cas clutched his chest as each word stabbed him, 'Wit, or Azan? And, kill, father? Since when has that immoral word come so easily to your lips?' The cold voice replied, "That can be arranged, soothe yourself now, sleep." His emotions must remain stable for her to elicit more information and there were a few more things she wanted to know. Time was growing short. "What did you learn from the Historian?" "Nothing, there was no time. The High One will find her useful. I intended to find the strategic defense of Elvenhome, and to see how the others of the EDUTH are faring." "You almost killed her." It was said so indifferently Cas wondered whether she would have been glad or sorry. "I did not know that fool Boledan was so far beyond control. It was never my intention to harm her, only use her." The cold emotionless voice of his father was going on, but Cas could bear no more. Automatically he raised the sconce, and the opening slid shut. The delf speaking in that room was no father he ever knew. He was no longer surprised Azan told him he was wrong. Numbly he made his way back along the passage to his room. He did not notice that he left the letters lying where they had fallen from his nerveless fingers. His only thought was that he wanted to find Zan, and Wit. There was something urgent that he wanted to tell them.
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