The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Chapter 26

"So, Tarran," a deep voice growled in Corvan's ear, "you have not only proven yourself to be a bigger fool than your father, but this time he cannot save you from the Chief Watcher."

The grip on Corvan's shoulders relaxed. His body slipped, and his heart pounded.

"I think it would be best for everyone if you fell to your death," the deep voice stated.

"Kharag," a calm voice spoke. "Our orders were to relieve Tarran and Harmon not kill them."

"Shut up, Rayu," the man holding Corvan barked, "or you will be next. It would be a great relief to not see any of the green priest's cloaks around our barracks."

Corvan was hurled back toward the door. He collapsed in a heap and looked out under the folds of his hood. His captors were expecting to meet Tarran at the door and his grandfather's special cloak was making them think that was who Corvan was. He pulled his hood lower.

Men in black cloaks moved about while an older man in a green cloak smiled in his direction. That had to be one of the priests from the temple Tsarek had spoken of. If he could only talk to Rayu, the man could help him escape.

A boot caught him in the leg. "Get to your feet," Kharag ordered.

Using the staff, Corvan pushed himself upright. He was keeping his hood low and his eyes on the ground. As he leaned heavily on the staff, its glow came to life, and Kharag's boots jumped in front of him.

"Why did you light your staff?" Kharag demanded, snatching it from Corvan's hand. He examined the shaft. "And why is there blood on it?"

"Kharag," another voice called, "look over here."

Corvan watch from under his hood as Kharag moved to where a knot of soldiers stood around Harmon's body. The older man in a green cloak pushed in to crouch over the corpse. "This wound was not made by his staff," he said, looking up at Kharag.

Kharag shoved the man, who fell hard to the ground.

"We don't need your help, Rayu. This is not a temple affair. Harmon's body is proof of the murder, so Tarran is now a prisoner under the jurisdiction of the Chief Watcher."

The large boots stalked back to Corvan. The sharp point of the staff jabbed repeatedly into his shoulder with each sharp word. "Tarran, you are under arrest for the murder of Harmon. You will now be taken before the Chief Watcher for judgment." Someone shoved Corvan and was directing him onto the cliffside path leading down to the city.

Hemmed in by soldiers on the narrow track, Corvan noticed there was something odd about his guards. At first, he couldn't figure it out, but as they entered the first set of switchbacks, leading to the bridge below, it finally struck him. Among these grown men, he was of average height. Either the guards were chosen for their short stature, or all the people of this place Tsarek called the Cor were not very tall.

The light from the lumiens overhead was growing dimmer, and with his hood low over his eyes, Corvan felt safe from discovery, at least for the time being. Once he was taken to the Chief Watcher, he would be exposed as an impostor. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead at the thought of meeting the black lizard face-to-face.

Seeking some reassurance, he reached under his tunic to rest his hand on the head of the hammer, but it was cold to the touch. Something had changed when Tarran died. The man's frightened face filled his thoughts. He pushed the image away, but the voice in his head kept pleading, "Help me, Cor-Van."

Silently, he responded, I was too afraid and I'm not strong enough. I'm sorry. I don't even know how to use the hammer.

Tarran's voice continued to implore him. "Please, Cor-Van, help me."