Dawn of Dusk

Vistyral, Duke of Cryarlac moved quietly from shadow to shadow, as he made his way to the palace stable in the City of Karron, the capital of Karrondor. He was a tall, well-built man muscled with many hours of working the sword and other weapons. He had penetrating gray eyes that appeared slightly too close together, dark brown, almost black hair, a beard shaved close to his face and well-manicured. His nose was noticeably straight and about the length of the top two joints of his index finger, his hands were large with strong fingers; in battle because his grip was so powerful, he was almost never disarmed.

As he walked through town he looked at the familiar surroundings. Most of the buildings were made of wood, covered with dried mud and finally coated with a type of paint to keep them somewhat waterproof. The more expensive buildings of course were made from cut stone. The palace, the churches, and most of the rich merchants’ homes were made from cut stone.

He had entered town incognito because he had been told by the person he was going to meet that he could not be seen. Since he was well known in Karrondor he had traveled through the parts of town where he was less likely to be known. Already he had drawn his sword several times scare off potential attackers. As he made his way to the appointed meeting place, his mind wandered back over the years.

Borrial, Crown Prince of Karrondor had been born thirty seconds before Vistyral. During those thirty seconds, a tattoo in the shape of a crown had been placed on Borrial’s right heel. This was tradition when royal twins were born. The former High Priest Mon Grael had prophesied twins. Thorak, the Kings magician had confirmed the prophesy through his own means.

Vistyral’s own right heel bore a tattoo as well. It was the sign of an eclipsed sun. Lamercal had ordered that as soon as Vistyral came from the womb. Being on his heel he seldom saw it, and thought of it even less often.

At the time the tattoos were to help the parents and servants determine the heir and the second son. No one had paid any attention to the fact that the tattoos were being performed by Thorak sorcerer to Lamercal. It wasn’t until years later that any one cared.

Vistyral moved into an alley across from the gate to the palace. The guards were going to pose a problem for him, but Thorak had promised to help him get to the stable. As he stood, he checked his disguise. If discovered, it would be assumed that he was up to something sinister. He knew his father would put him, duke or not, into the dungeon if it appeared he was doing something illegal.

He looked around him the walls were high, almost forty spans. A span was the distance between the tip of the thumb to the little finger. The stone that made up this fortress was quarried almost a mile away. The castle straddled a river; the river Karron. Water from the river filled the moat, washed the clothes, the food, and the bodies of the inhabitants. The drinking water came from the river and an internal well so an army that put the city under siege, couldn’t foul the drinking water of the castle.

He had grown up in this castle. Until he had gone to be squire to the Duke of Cryarlac, he had spent almost every day exploring the castle. He knew several secret ways out, but as far as he knew, there was no secret way in. Most fortresses were built that way or they wouldn’t be secure.

He moved forward, the smells of sweat, ale, and horses mingled together giving a sense of well being to Vistyral. His and military training and woodsman skills let him know that the palace was in a state of low anxiety. As he neared the gate a beggar approached. His royal upbringing had him reaching into his pouch for a few coppers, for no royal could allow a beggar to go away empty handed; it was their charge to help the sick and the needy.

The beggar reached forth his hand and as Vistyral reached out his hand to give him the coppers, he felt a dizziness like he had never before known; not even when he had drunk too much. The beggar helped steady him. Instantly he felt better.

He looked into the beggars face and saw Thorak smiling at him. He was instantly alarmed and angered, why should Thorak his father’s most trusted advisor and best friend be meeting him in this clandestine manner?

Thorak was an aged man with a long gray beard reaching half-way to his naval which hid most of his face and neck. He had blue eyes that often sparkled with too many tears like he had just told a good joke. His nose was like the beak of a predatory bird that had grown extra-large with age. He was shorter than Vistyral by at least a head and slightly overweight from spending too much time in reading and study.

“What is going on?” Vistyral asked annoyed that he had appeared weak in front of anyone who knew him.

“Relax; I made you dizzy so I could lead you away to talk to you, and to help you get into the palace undetected. First, take off your right boot.”

“Why...”

“Never mind why, just do it, and be quick about it.”

Vistyral took off his boot. Thorak removed his sock, took his foot and looked at it with a shielded lantern.

After looking at it for a few minutes he looked up into Vistyral’s face and said, “I had to make sure this was you first and not your brother. It wouldn’t be prudent for me to give this information to your brother or anyone else. This tattoo has some magical powers. As long as your brother the prince is alive you cannot be murdered or die in battle. Don’t ask me why I put those properties into your tattoo; your future is not something you want to know beforehand.

“Your tattoo can also offer you some degree of magical cloaking. It doesn’t make you disappear; it makes people forget they saw you. As long as you do nothing to arouse the guards, they will forget they ever saw you walk by. Since I cast the spell upon you however, I will never be affected, nor will your father. To use it you must rub it against your boot or the ground and think of somewhere you want to be. People there will believe that they saw you there. This enables you to in effect, be in two places at one time. You must keep your thoughts on the place where you want to be. If you lose your concentration, the spell will be broken and those you want to forget will remember, and your projection will be forgotten by those who saw it.

“That doesn’t mean that you have to be thinking of your place the whole time you are in the palace, just as long as you are within sight of those you wish to hide from. Oh, one other thing, if you try to use this power to kill, the spell will be forever broken and your power and protection will be gone forever. Any who saw you in the previous twenty-four hours will remember. I put that in there to make sure that a good man stays good. When a person thinks that they can get away with something, the temptation usually is greater.”

“Do you really expect me to take my boot off and rub my heel in order to disappear? That is the silliest thing I ever heard of.”

“No, you don’t have to take your boot off to rub it, rub it against your boot sole.”

Vistyral rubbed his heel against the sole of his boot, and nothing happened. He tried again, and nothing happened.

“I thought I was supposed to disappear or something”

“No, you misunderstood. I said that they would see you but they will not notice you. Even if they talk to you, if you do nothing unusual, they will forget the entire conversation.

Now before you go into the meeting, that you have with Mon Treel, I want you to know a few things. Before you were born, the high priest of Karrondor came to me and told me that he had seen a vision that twins would be born. He saw in the vision that the second son would rise up and save the kingdom from the ruination and danger of the heir. I have a few ways of looking into the future myself that have nothing to do with the Gods of Karron, yet I agree with his prophesy. I looked farther into the future, and I saw the son of Borrial sitting on the throne, in justice and wisdom. I will help you, and my help is considerable, if, I have your promise that you will place the son of your brother on the throne of Karrondor after you.”

“I swear I only seek the best for my kingdom. If I am to do something to help the kingdom, tell me what I must do.”

“I may have done too much already because if you know the future you can change the future. Maybe I should have done nothing and let nature take its course. I fear that your father will not long be with us. I have dared not look into the future since I saw the blood and destruction of Karrondor before you were born. The king has made a great effort to see your brother wed before his next birthday. I think it is because he is more ill than he lets anyone know, even me. One last thing, do not trust Mon Treel. He may be the high priest of the Gods of Karron, but he looks out for his own welfare first and the business of the Gods second.”

“When Duke Mastral died leaving me to rule Cryarlac since he had no heir, Father told me that I was too good a ruler to waste. I felt then that he was very ill, and I have done everything I could do to find out, but since mother died, he has not confided in me.”

“A ruler has very few people he can confide in. He was lucky to have a wife with a brain in her head. That is something you may want to keep in mind when you seek a wife. That should happen pretty soon too for you are almost thirty years old.

“Your father showed great confidence in your ability by making you Duke of Cryarlac. Take what time you have to show your competence as a leader and as a general. Quietly build an army second only to your father’s. It is now but you can make it stronger still. Make it almost as strong as your father’s but not quite. Take care to not rival your father and especially don’t appear to rival your brother after he becomes king.”

Handing the duke a wooden box, he said, “If you need to communicate with me, use these. They will help me see and hear, and let me talk to you. Once your father dies I am coming to Cryarlac. Is the construction of my tower coming along all right?”

“Yes, but why rooms for two people, have you found a woman to bring with you?”

Vistyral chuckled. “No, by guild rules, I must train an apprentice once my time as sorcerer is done. You know that I cannot act as your sorcerer either.”

“I don’t plan to have one.”

“Plan to or not, a sorcerer you must have. Permit me the trouble of finding you a good and loyal one. One who can protect you and seek out information for you that you can’t get elsewhere.”

“All right, just make it someone like you; someone I can trust.”

Vistyral opened the box and almost dropped it. After regaining his composure, the duke regarded the three items in the box, an eye, looking at him; a human ear, and a mouth.

The mouth spoke, “with the items in this box, I can communicate with you if you and you can communicate with me if you need me. One last thing, this box should be with you always. The box reduces down to a spot that looks like a mole. It will stay wherever you put it. I would recommend that you put it somewhere where it is not regularly seen. If it tingles while you are doing something else, then you should find a private place where you can talk because I am trying to reach you. When you peel it off it will automatically enlarge to its current size; to reduce it down press the button over the latch.”

Vistyral pressed the button and then placed the mole under his left arm where it would be out of his way. He tucked his shirt back into his trousers and looked up at Thorak.

“All right, I have a meeting with Mon Treel tonight and I mustn’t keep him waiting any longer. I thank-you for your help and the insight you have given me into the future I look forward to meeting with you again when we can do so in the open.”

“Follow your father’s advice! Trust no one you cannot be sure of, marry someone with a brain. Trust her if she is trustworthy, otherwise, give her only the information you must to accomplish your purpose. Fall in love if you can, but fill the other requirements first.”

“I know of someone that would manage to satisfy all three but, I don’t know if she will be available, or if she would have me. We’ll see, Good-bye.”

“Good luck, with both tasks, don’t fail, if you do the world could be plunged into darkness forever.”

Vistyral walked away, stopped rubbed his heel on the sole of his boot and thought of his castle in Cryarlac. As he walked by the guards, they looked at him and then went back to talking to themselves.

As he made his way along to the storage area below the stables he thought back to the days before Duke Mastral had died. He and Borrial had accompanied their father to Cryarlac to receive stewardship of Duke Mastral’s part of the kingdom, the Duchy of Cryarlac.

Cryarlac was not in the center of the kingdom. It was Far East and bordered on a desert that to mankind’s knowledge was not traversable. Cryarlac had stone and iron ore in large amounts which left it economically strong. Next to Karrondor it was the strongest Duchy financially and militarily.

No one seemed to care that Mastral had no heir. No young noble woman wanted to go clear to the far end of the Kingdom to be the wife of an old man that had not been able to sire any children in his lifetime by three deceased wives.

For his part Duke Mastral had determined that the problem was within him after his third wife had not been able to have any children. He said it could have been the fault of one woman, even two; but he had tried to have children with three wives and countless servants and maidens within his land. No one had ever brought him a child claiming it was his.

Shortly after his tenth birthday Vistyral had been sent to squire for Mastral and had proven himself a remarkable leader. By his eighteenth birthday he was nearly running Cryarlac by himself. At festival he was knighted by his father and the same day Mastral had named him heir. Vistyral had never expected confirmation from the King’s Council, but, it had been unanimous in the first round. Mastral had lobbied for three years for him and had overcome significant opposition at the outset.

Now Vistyral knew why Mastral had placed all the responsibility on him the last few years. He was showing the other Dukes and Barons that Mastral was more than the king’s second son. There were rumblings going around the kingdom that Vistyral should be the heir to the throne, rather than his brother, something his brother had heard all too often and was loath to hear.

At the last festival during the meeting of the Kings Council, Vistyral had asked to speak. In a very tactful and tasteful way, he accounted for all he had accomplished in his time as duke. He told of plans for the future and told of his negotiations to the north with the Dwarves who had always been a source of hostilities in the past.

During his time as Squire Vistyral had noticed that the Dwarven smelts had been working less and less of the time. After becoming Duke he had traveled to the Mountains of Vermath and met with the leader of the Dwarves, Cadot Stonpiker.

Vistyral had told Stonpiker of his desire to begin normal economic relations between the two peoples and gave him with two tons of rich iron ore. Cadot Stonpiker had been so impressed that he presented Vistyral with one ton of various uncut gems diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, opals, amethysts, alexandrite, and many others.

Trade was developed on those terms, two tons of premium iron ore for one ton of uncut gems or one half ton of Dwarven steel. At almost no cost, Vistyral had been able to outfit his whole army in armor made of Dwarven steel.

Only the king and the prince had knowledge of the trade agreement other than him and Vistyral only told the council that arrangements had been made for viable trade with the Dwarves for gems and Dwarven steel. This pleased the council greatly for everyone agreed that Dwarven steel was the greatest metal known to humankind.

It could be shaped and formed easily but when hardened and tempered it became harder than any substance except diamonds. Dwarves used diamonds like pencils to do the fancy scroll work and engraving on their steel.

Elves used Dwarven steel augmented with their magic to create Elven chain mail. When worn, it would add almost no weight to a soldier, but, would protect him as well as plate armor that could weigh as much as thirty bekars. (A bekar was the weight of a bushel of wheat.) It would also allow the bearer flexibility as if he had no armor at all.

Vistyral told the council that while he had accomplished much, he also had much left to accomplish. He wanted to be left alone to continue his work. Mon Treel had been in attendance at that council. He always was, to ratify treaties and act as an arbiter in times of strife or war.

It irritated him that he had to sneak into the city of his birth to meet with the man he didn’t like or trust. He reached the meeting point and found the high priest dressed in his normal clothes.

Mon Treel was the leader of the church in the world. He was a thin man on a small frame. His face was long and appeared even longer from the goatee and extremely thin mustache he always wore. He had dark almost beady eyes that were so far apart that when talking to him one was never sure which eye to look at and a short hooked nose between them. He had a wide mouth with very thin lips and a gummy smile. Nevertheless he appeared handsome enough as a package and in fine clothes.

Vistyral felt an instant of distaste at meeting like this and then let it pass. He had already checked the area thoroughly using the magic Thorak had given him, and he knew they were alone.

“What was so important that had me travel for two weeks in secrecy in order to meet with you here Mon Treel?”

“I’m sorry Excellency, I would have come to see you, but, with my high profile I cannot easily travel without everyone in the kingdom knowing.”

“Yes, I know you are the most important human in the kingdom. You talk to the Gods. We must all sit quietly waiting for the words of the Gods as they come to you. I always felt that if the Gods wanted to speak to me, that they could do so. If they are as all powerful as you say, then they could speak to humans directly.”

“Those words are dangerously close to blasphemy, my friend, have care...”

Vistyral grabbed him by the shirt collar and lifted him up. “Let’s get this straight! I believe, but, I also believe you serve yourself as much as God. I know there is a necessity for you and the priests and our religion. Don’t try to convert me, I am already a member and a practicing member of the Family of Karron, and I always will be.”

“I am pleased to hear that, Mon Treel said ominously, I would be concerned that a leader of the people like you might be inclined to lead the people astray. You have done much to alleviate my fears,” he said as he smoothed the rumples in his clothes that Vistyral had left in them.

He reached up and touched Vistyral’s hand and it opened. For twenty seconds or so, Vistyral could not move his hand at all, and then it was numb. Mon Treel continued smoothing his clothes and continued talking as if nothing had happened.

“Your brother must not ascend to the throne. I have called you here to tell you some very important information. All of what I have to tell you is true but I cannot tell you how I know most of it.”

“If you are going to give me information, you must also give me the source if I’m to act upon it. You tell me that I must do something so that my brother doesn’t become king, upon the death of my father. There are only two ways I can accomplish that. One is to catch him involved in treachery, and the other is to usurp power against him.”

“Just to clarify things, he isn’t involved in treachery is he?”

“You know very well he probably is. He will do anything to be king. He would do anything to get the throne, even if it would hurt my father.”

Vistyral laughed inwardly as he recalled the day the Kings Council had confirmed his succession in Cryarlac.

“Father,” he had said, “I don’t deserve this. Cryarlac is one of the best lands in the kingdom. I am a second son, I shouldn’t have all this.”

He looked into his father’s eyes; gray like his but paler. His father’s nose had a large hump in it and a slight bulb at the tip. His dark hair had now turned white and his beard had turned a disagreeable yellow, probably from sickness. He stood shorter than his son by several inches and had developed a slight hunch. He had a pained look on his face; a change from the jovial look that had always been there when Vistyral’s mother was alive.

His father looked at him for a long time. Tears welled into his eyes but he never let them flow onto his cheeks.

“Son you deserve this and more. I just wish I could name you my heir instead of watching another, like Mastral, no matter how close a friend and supporter he is, do it for me. You are a much better leader and a ruler than your older brother will be. You lead because people want to follow you. When he leads it is through force and he makes every minute of it miserable for the followers, even his most trusted followers.

He begged and begged me to allow him to open his Academy of Arts. I finally consented and he brought in all types of strange and perverted individuals in the guise of artists. True many of them are gifted artists but all of the artists in his school, are men who would kill their mothers for a quarter bekar of brass.”

Vistyral was surprised; he thought he was the only one who knew that his brother was bringing in criminals. When they were eleven, Borrial started torturing and tormenting him. He had let his brother know in very clear terms that he wasn’t going to tolerate it. It had left an unbridgeable gulf between them for years. After their terms as squire, things were better but they would never be close as they had been as boys. Oddly enough, the estrangement had come from Borrial not from him. He loved his brother regardless, but it seemed that Borrial would not accept the fact that they were different and paid no attention to the fact that Vistyral did not want to take his birthright.

“I’m sure that Borrial will make a good king father, don’t worry.”

“I wish I could share your optimism son; but I have known a lot of leaders in my lifetime; leaders good and bad, your brother does not lead he pulls. Part of being a leader is that you get those you are leading to follow because they believe in you, trust in you, or at least believe in what you are trying to do.

If I were to name you my heir today, there might be one dissenting vote, your brother. I simply cannot throw away centuries of tradition because I don’t feel that your brother is as good a leader as you. It doesn’t mean he can’t do a good job. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt; I owe that to my fathers.”

Vistyral and his father had never spoken of Borrial again, but, whenever he saw his father he saw the concealed pain he felt for the decision he had made. Vistyral felt sorry for his father, the man had raised a son to be king and he felt that he had failed. When a man was in his twilight years, he should be able to sit and watch the result of his life’s work and feel a sense of accomplishment. That would be forever denied his father.

“Duke Vistyral are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry Mon Treel, what were you saying?′

“I said I have heard from a reliable source that he’ll do anything to become the king. That all he wants to do is run this kingdom like he does the Arts. You must take charge of the situation and do something before it is too late.”

“Let me be very clear, father named him heir. He does not have to do anything to become king. Father is not well; he tries to hide it but I know. He is father’s choice; I will do nothing at this time. My brother deserves the confidence my father has in him. I will support him until I feel he is a danger to this kingdom or other kingdoms. If I meet with you again, it will be after he has shown me a reason to take action. At that time I will expect you to tell me everything you know and where the information came from as well. If you are not willing to give me all that information, then there is no point in meeting again in the future. We’ll never know what he can do or will do as king, until he becomes the king.”

Mon Treel studied him intently. “You really don’t aspire to that position, do you?”

“No! If I ever take action against my brother it will be for the good of the kingdom or this world not for me. I will do almost anything to protect the people. Protecting the people is what nobles and church leaders are supposed to do. I already have more responsibility and authority than I expected to have. I expected to be little more than an ambassador for my brother my whole life. I am now one of the most influential leaders in the kingdom.”

“I am not sure I will be able to share the information source with you even if things do go farther.”

“Make no mistake about it,′ Vistyral said in a low ominous tone, “I’ll not get involved any other way. “Having finished with what he had to say, Vistyral moved away. He rubbed his tattoo against the heel of his boot and moved off into the night. He saw a number of guards that knew him by sight, but none of them noticed him.

Vistyral knew some magic. He was not gifted enough to become a wizard or sorcerer. Some Royals did and often filled the roll of court sorcerer for their ruling family member. Vistyral was exceptionally stronger in leadership and military tactics than his strength in magical abilities. Thorak always told him that it was only because he had never applied himself to learning and that was probably true, working on magical spells was often boring and tiring for him.

He could start fire by magic, he could find water in the wilderness, and he could draw upon the strength of the earth for short times and one time under Thorak’s guidance, he even created a golem half the size of a man. A golem is a creature of earth that usually is three or more times the size of a man that is sent to do a job requiring great strength.

He left the city and met with the one man that he knew he could trust with his life, if not all his secrets; his man-at-arms, Chertal.

Chertal was slightly shorter but carried more muscle that Vistyral did on his frame. He had dark hair, black eyes, and a scar on his left cheek and carried a short sword with a golden handle. His olive complexion served him well and made him look more mysterious. His nose was small, as were his ears. His lips were full. His mouth turned down because of his full cheeks so he always looked like he was frowning. His eyes however were always smiling giving strangers a mixed message as to his emotions.

Chertal, understood the need for the Duke to come and go on occasion, without the world knowing that he had been there. He didn’t know or care who the duke had met or the subject of the meeting. His concern was with the duke’s safety. He felt significantly better now that his duke was back where he could watch over and defend him.

Chertal handed the duke the reins to his horse and they began moving west. Since Cryarlac was east, he asked the duke where they were now headed.

“To Arborlea, I have to meet with Landif, king of the elves, and see if I can’t make a treaty with him similar to the one I negotiated with Cadot Stonpiker.

This treaty will affect you much more than the last one.” Vistyral continued. “If I can work this treaty out, you will remain in Arborlea to learn the Elven arts of war. Since we do not share a common border with the Elves, and we have resources that they need, most especially Dwarven steel, I think I can work out a deal that they will not refuse.”

Chertal became very interested now. “When did you decide this?”

“Tonight during one of the meetings that I had to attend it became very clear to me that I needed to work on this diplomacy separate of the kingdom in general. The Elves and the Dwarves are at odds over some trees that the Dwarves destroyed to create new smelts. Apparently they were an Elven gift to the Dwarves umpteen generations ago and there are some Elves alive today who remember granting the gifts. They are outraged that the trees were destroyed.”

“The king has given you permission to proceed on your own?”

“Yes, some time ago he gave me permission to pursue this course of action on my own. I had held off seeing if Prince Borrial could succeed, but he broke off negotiations with the Elves when they refused to allow the Elven “artisans” to teach their techniques at his Academy of Arts. He doesn’t understand that Elven artisans don’t exist. I suspected that he would return to negotiate with them after a few weeks, but he didn’t and refuses to leave the academy for two more months.

King Lamercal sent a message asking me to go visit King Landif and included a letter to Landif granting me authority to negotiate with him by and for the king.”

“Why do you want me to learn the Elven ways of battle my lord?”

“In all of history, only once did Men defeat the Elves. That took place in western Cryarlac where there are almost no trees. The Elves had to adapt to Men’s Style of warfare; and they lost miserably. That one defeat cost the Elves dearly, for while they live for hundreds of years, an Elven couple may only have two or three children in their lifetimes. Hundreds of Elves, both male and female had been slaughtered in the battle and they had immediately signed a peace treaty with Men and have been an ally ever since then. When the battles took place in the forest, it was the opposite; hundreds of Men were killed with almost no Elven casualties.”

“Are you expecting to have to go to battle in the forest, Vistyral?”

“I think it would be wise to learn to handle any type of terrain and any advantage we could gain from their techniques would be significant and helpful.”

“In that case, I’ll do everything I can to learn their battle plans and to apply them to what we already know.”