Vilos smiled as he spotted the four gleaming towers of the White Palace jutting toward the sky. In another hour, Sultan’s Oasis would be visible in all its glory. More than one hundred thousand people called the capital home. Most of the noble families also maintained a home there so they could live in comfort when at court. With his daughter’s birthday fast approaching, the population would soon nearly double as nobles from many lands arrived for a chance to court the princess.
As they got closer to home the speed of their little column increased without them even being aware of it. Vilos glanced back at his fifty men and realized the stone soldiers had fallen behind. He held up his hand signaling the men to slow down so the golems could catch up.
Vilos had sent Captain Yosef and half the cavalry to look into the nomad trouble. Vilos was friends with several headmen who might know why the other tribes were so stirred up. The mission would also give the young cavalrymen some much needed experience.
Yosef readily agreed to the mission. He selected a mix of new recruits and veterans then headed into the desert as soon as they acquired the necessary provisions. Vilos expected Yosef to return about a week after Shara’s birthday. He hoped the attack only represented one angry tribe and not a larger uprising.
Soon he could see the city walls and the main gate. The walls stood fifty feet tall and twenty feet thick. They had fallen only once to an invader, when Vilos’s ancestor had conquered the city a thousand years ago.
Since then three sieges had befallen Sultan’s Oasis. All three had been broken by winter sandstorms rather than the soldiers of the city guard.
They arrived at the gate, which swung open at the sultan’s approach. Massive horns sang out to announce the lord’s return. King’s Way, a broad road through the heart of the city, went straight from the main gate to the palace. Along both sides throngs of people had gathered.
They cheered as Vilos rode down the street. About halfway to the palace a little girl in a dirty white smock darted out into the street. She carried a pair of King’s Tears. The white flowers looked like daisies and grew wherever they could find a few drops of moisture. They were pretty, but most farmers considered them a nuisance.
Vilos dismounted and before the child’s mortified mother could drag her out of the street he knelt and took the flowers. The girl wore a coat of dirt like a second skin. She smiled when Vilos accepted her gift. Vilos took one and broke the stem about four inches below the flower and tucked it behind the little girl’s ear. The second flower he kept for himself.
“Consider that my personal invitation to you and your mother to attend my daughter’s birthday celebration.”
When Vilos got to his feet the people cheered even louder. He remounted his camel and waved again. To the little girl he threw a wink. She beamed and winked back. This would certainly give her a story to tell her friends when she got home.
The rest of the trip down King’s Way passed without event. As Vilos approached the white marble walls that surrounded the palace another set of horns sounded and the black iron portcullis clanked up. He had just entered the garden that grew around the palace when he spotted Shara running toward him. He just managed to dismount before she leapt into his arms. Vilos spun her around once then set her back down.
“I missed you, Father,” she said.
“I missed you too, Shara.” Vilos turned to his men. “I'll walk to the palace with my daughter. Take care of my camel.”
The men saluted and one of them grabbed the reins of Vilos’s camel.
Vilos linked arms with Shara and they started down one of the white stone paths that ran through the garden. Palm trees hung over the path providing shade to lessen the day’s heat. “Anything interesting happen while I was away?”
“Sarafin’s determined to go through with her marriage to the wheezer.”
“I spoke to the man a couple times,” Vilos said. “He didn’t seem that bad.”
“I know. I just think she could do better.”
“If she’s content, try and be happy for her.”
“I’ll try,” Shara said. She still didn’t seem convinced. Her face brightened. “I almost forgot. We received a sending from Uncle Kent yesterday. He’s coming to my party.”
Vilos looked dumbfounded. “My brother?”
“Yes, he said he’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
Vilos scratched his head. “I’ll be damned. I wonder what he wants.”
“I don’t know.” Shara’s nose wrinkled up. “I think you want a bath.”
Vilos lay in bed that night thinking about his brother. In truth, he’d thought of little else since Shara had mentioned Kent. All through dinner he’d had only half an ear for his daughter and the small group of friends that had joined them.
Shara and Sarafin had debated endlessly about what Kent would be like. Shara had never met either of her uncles.
What could Kent want? In the nineteen years since the Crown War ended, Vilos hadn’t heard a word from either of his brothers. When his wife had died he’d heard nothing. Now Kent decided to speak.
Vilos flopped over onto his back and stared at the silk canopy of his bed. What could he want? That was Vilos’s last thought as he fell asleep.
Vilos wandered through a tunnel. The dark stone walls pressed tight around him. A strange mist filled the air making it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. The floor of the cave was smooth so at least he had no fear of tripping on some unseen obstacle. Vilos shuffled along through the darkness and finally emerged into a huge domed cavern.
A creepy déjà vu feeling struck him. He swore he’d seen something like this long ago. Light filled the cavern as twenty torches ringing the perimeter burst into flame. The torches were held in the hands of twenty stone statues. The statues looked identical to his stone soldiers.
The far end of the cavern rose above the floor about ten feet. The raised portion still lay hidden in shadows.
Vilos knew where he was.
He didn’t want to approach the dark corner of the cave, yet he found his legs wouldn’t obey him.
Though he fought with all his will, Vilos continued to inch closer to the darkness. He stopped at the base of the platform and found a short flight of steps.
A blinding flash of light forced Vilos to raise his arm and cover his eyes.
When he lowered his arm he found a hooded figure seated on a throne of black volcanic glass. On either side of him stood a golden pole topped with a glowing crystal. The man wore a purple robe with black trim.
The dark figure beckoned.
Vilos had no desire to get any closer, but as before his body had other ideas. He climbed the steps and stopped ten feet from the throne. The man stood to face him. Though six inches shorter than Vilos and at least one hundred pounds lighter, the man radiated an aura of power such that Vilos knew if they came to blows he wouldn’t get the better of it.
The dark figure threw back his hood, revealing the face that Vilos had feared for the last twenty years. Thin and hawkish with a bald head and icy blue eyes that seemed to look through rather than at you, the sorcerer hadn’t changed since Vilos last saw him. Two tattoos resembling a skull surrounded by black flames, one on each cheek, decorated that strangely compelling face.
“What do you want?” Vilos asked at last. His voice sounded soft and weak in his ears.
“You know,” the sorcerer said in a voice so deep it seemed to shake the cavern.
“No,” Vilos said.
“I’m coming.”