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free of the tunnels, the pathway has been marked by a subtle sign that the phrenics will understand. I’m afraid what that marking is will be a mystery you will need to solve yourselves. Keep to these signs and you will find the way.”

The lack of a detailed description of the sign that would lead them from the maze was disconcerting. The fact that it was something only phrenics would understand, however was not unsurprising. Undoubtedly, subtle markings etched into rock would have faded over a millennium of exposure to the elements.

“What of the land that borders The Crags?” Dav, who’d remained silent to this point, spoke.

“The lands that border the southwestern shore of the Sunfall Lake and also include the eastern edges of The Crags have for generations been owned by a family sympathetic to our cause.” Irie explained.

Of all the information that had been divulged during the meeting, this was the most shocking. There was a gasp from the others as the information rolled from the Councilwoman’s tongue.

“It is through the assistance of this family, that we have been able to maintain the current level of information regarding the atrocities that have been occurring throughout the Kingdom,” Councilor Heild spoke up, entering the discussion. “The mystery of our source of knowledge I know is a surprise to all of you. You must understand, there was more risk divulging this to the whole of Vim. Coded messages, even the seed of that revolting, blighted rose, travelled to us on the wings of their specially trained falcons. Regretfully, more than five cycles have passed since we last received a message.”

Andr cleared his throat, calling the attention to him.

“I know that land well. I was well acquainted with the honorable Lord Felloc,” Andr paused. There was no disguising the flash of recognition that crossed the faces of the Council. Oswill was far and away the worst at hiding the surprise.

“I regret if I’m the bearer of ill tidings,” Andr spoke softly. “Felloc and his family were murdered nearly five and a half cycles ago.”

This time the gasp came from the Council. Irie covered her mouth with her hand.

“Their deaths were shockingly brutal,” Andr continued. “They were attributed to a band of outlaws that had been rumored to reside in the area, though much speculation resounded. Lord Felloc had become a vocal dissident, incensed further by the continued depravity of the kingdom. The king was all too quick to rule the investigation into their deaths closed.”

“That is a tragedy, and a great loss to us all,” Irie said as she hung her head. Pausing for an extended moment. “Their passing will be mourned.”

The silence stretched on for several moments. The excitement over the newly discovered stream of information from the outside world was abruptly severed. It was Irie who again broke the silence.

“Andr, it’s a blessing that you know the area well. It will be your lead that will be followed to guide them to The Stocks,” Irie ordered.

The mercenary responded with a silent nod.

“This concludes that which we’ve summoned you for today,” Irie announced. “I suggest you finish the necessary arrangements and rest early. You will have a late night and a long, uncertain journey ahead of you.”

Her words echoed through the chamber as silence descended upon the Great Hall. The finality, the uncertainty, and the excitement surrounding the expedition sunk in.

“Forget not that which you leave behind,” Irie intoned softly. “You go with the hopes of Vim on your shoulders. Until we meet again, my friends.”

Within a matter of hours, they would be leaving the safety of Vim.

The freedom of The Stocks was one step closer.

Chapter 43

Ryl found that sleep came with difficulty that evening owing to the early hour and the excitement that rushed through his body. The plan was for each member of the party to cross the city alone, rendezvousing inside the mine after the night's first watch. At that hour, the streets would be deserted, freeing them from the questioning eyes of many. The bulk of the activity would be from the Vigil guarding the outer gate. By moving alone, their travel throughout the city should go unnoticed.

Ryl had packed quickly. His wardrobe had grown since his arrival in the lost city, yet his possessions were still scant. He was again leaving with virtually all his worldly possessions. He arranged his clothing and water skin on his bed, looking at the empty pack that lay open beside it. The neat bundle of dried leaves of the blighted rose, crucial for the treatment of the tributes, had been evenly divided into five sealed small parcels. Each package was delivered into the hands of the phrenics accompanying the expedition. By spreading the burden, if one or two of the packages were lost, the results would be less than catastrophic.

Ryl collected the sealed pack of medicine, lifting it hesitantly to his nose. The dried leaves had been bundled in cloth before being sealed with wax. A second layer of cloth and wax were added for good measure before being tied into a small sack. He was amazed that the horrific odor of the pungent leaves was successfully masked by the coating. The package had a faint floral smell thanks to the meticulous packing and mildly scented outer layer.

The mender had been more subdued than his norm as he delivered his packages and bid the phrenics farewell. Some he’d known the entirety of his life, others, in the cases of Kaep and Ramm, he’d assisted in their births. He’d watched them grow from newborns to the fabled warriors that now stood before him. He cracked a smile with his parting words to Ryl.

“Now that my days will have been freed from your constant need of tending, I’ll be able to accomplish my prescribed work,” Brasley joked. The mender offered his hand to Ryl, pulling him in close enough to whisper.

“Please stay safe. Take care of them, my friend,” his voice broke as the words stumbled out.

Ryl

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