The Gold in the Dark

Chapter Sixteen

The knock came quiet and apologetic, but it only took a second for his man of the bedchamber to reach the door. The glow of candlelight outside split the darkness of the room. The only sounds were his wife's soft moan of annoyance as she rolled over away from the light and the quick whispers of one servant to another.

"Don't you know what time it is? How dare you disturb Their Majesties at such an hour?"

The reply was too soft to hear, but the tone was quick and anxious. Orrus knew the implication: Right now. Something's happened.

He swung out of bed, scowling as the chill air of the chamber caressed his bare skin. "Dress me quickly now, Benj, and get the fire stoked. Let's not keep the day waiting."

Three minutes later he stalked into his council room and met the grave gaze of Edmond Flank, his closest adviser. "Well, what is it then?" It was too early to drag matters out.

"Your Majesty, your spy has returned. From Bleskar Bog." Spy. Singular spy. Yet he'd sent three together to find the so-called Eshkhal.

"Bring him in."

Flank nodded at the guard by the door, who disappeared into the hallway. A moment later he returned, trailed by a filthy, weary-looking man. The man bowed stiffly to the both of them.

"Is that you under all that grime, Arik?" Orrus hardly recognized his own spy.

"Your Majesty," Arik replied. His limpid eyes sizzled with energy, two beacons of blue amongst the dirt.

"Sit, sit," Orrus said. Arik murmured his thanks and carefully lowered himself into a chair, leaving dirty handprints on the polished wood.

The wheels in Orrus's mind began turning. He hadn't expected any results from the ridiculous mission to find Eshkhal. Yet that archivist had suggested Eshkhal might house anything under the sun, even some sort of a magical weapon. Best to control exactly who was privy to whatever information Arik was about to divulge.

Orrus looked to the guard. "Wait outside. Admit no one." The guard bowed and exited.

"What news?" Orrus asked, shifting forward in his seat. "Where are Coslo and Jame?"

Arik's voice was a grating rattle. "Gone. We found the place, far north of the main crossing ways, and there they perished." The end of his sentence came out in a wheeze, and he dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Perished how? And what is this illness of yours?" Orrus reached unconsciously for his handkerchief. He could not afford to get sick with no heir yet born.

The man waved his hand to reassure his sovereign, even as he tried to catch his breath. At last the cough settled and he spoke in a low croak. "It's no catchable illness, Sire. The bog... It burns."

"Burns?!" Orrus cried, and Edmond Flank's eyes widened.

"Yes, it burns fast and I reckon deep. The peat underground is all ablaze, and the fires make their way west toward our border. Rain cannot douse it, as it smolders in the earth. Perhaps the fires have already reached Fenlick... It's been a week now since I was there." Only a week! Orrus would almost have believed Arik if he'd claimed to have flown back instead of rode. His mind flailed from one thought to the next. How could such a thing have happened? Would Fenlick itself be set aflame by these fires deep within the earth? And gods above, did the flames move eastward to Corim as well?

Arik continued. "The sky—" He drew a steadying breath. "As the Mirish guide and I traveled back, the sky turned dark with smoke and ash. It filled our lungs and set us coughing fierce. Most of the beasts flew south ahead of us—helped speed our return. Only good part of the whole gods-damned journey." He laughed, or rather gave his best, rattling impression of a laugh. "Still, our progress back to Fenlick was slow. It's a miracle we made it back alive at all. The bogman had to deviate from many of the usual pathways... They were so choked with smoke we could hardly see five steps ahead. At first we thought we'd somehow gotten turned around and headed into the Gray Swamp. It was surely a relief when we found our bearings."