CHAPTER X: WYVHERN'S BETRAYAL

As they were ushered through the ballroom and back into the tight hallways of the manor, they felt the grip of the guards tighten from any form of non-compliance; Furrius tripped awkwardly as the guard held him by his arm painfully; Celathiel attempted to free his arm from the grip of his guard, to no avail.

After a few minutes of silent walking, they were dumped into the same dressing room they had been in before the show. "Wait for the Duke," one of the guards ordered, slamming the door as he left.

A collective sigh rang through the room as those with weaker constitutions tried to calm their rapidly beating hearts…it was quite a sensation to feel – near death while on your feet.

"I need a fucking drink…" the clumsy half-elf said to himself as he poured a shot of rum.

"Yeah, that's exactly what you need…" said the sarcastic sorcerer as he sat on the comfortable couch next to Barakus. "I don't think ANY of us should be drinking right now…"

Immediately after, arguably BECAUSE he had said it, Illonel, Sic and Krougu joined Furrius in a drink. Barakus scowled, cracking his knuckles against his knees. A few moments later the Duke burst into the room, bearing a harried expression. Sitting down, his face contorted in a sort of worried, fatherly expression.

"Travelers…oh, the duties of a Duke are never done. I'd give it all up to be a traveler like you…" he said, genuinely envious of the group. Furrius rubbed his scars beneath his shirt and nodded, smiling knowingly to himself. "If you only knew…" he thought.

"Let me speak, gentlemen. First – a question – you know of the robed figure that claims to have been my head mage?" he inquired.

"Yes…we've met him on several occasions…" Krougu said.

"Have you been in contact with his magic?"

Furrius' eyes grew serious. "I…I was tortured for days by him…" he said, raising his shirt to show the Duke his scars.

Still bearing a suspicious glint in his eyes, the Duke shook his head. "I suppose I should explain. Years ago, when this town was still a fledgling village, I hand picked a group of powerful wizards and sorcerers…they comprised a 'mage guild' of the highest degree. We worked in synergy with one another, helping the town to prosper from magic and natural means alike. I'm sure you've seen the two rivers that run through Suffolk?"

The group nodded. "Well, they are artificially constructed…it took the power of nearly all of our guild to redirect the rivers through town…but it is quite an impressive display, no?" he asked, momentarily losing his grave disposition for a more proud and boastful one. "At the point where they intersect is where the issue occurred. A large magical sphere - a reservoir - was constructed by the man who was my head mage. It cleansed water as it flowed through…an orb of a purely magical nature. Quite impressive…"

He took a moment to sip some of the wine left on the bar. He smiled when he saw the type it was – his favorite.

"After the construct of the reservoir, people started dying from a mysterious poison…it took us two weeks to trace it back to the reservoir…my head mage had tainted the water supply…some kind of sick, devious joke…he killed 20,000 of my citizens!" his face began to fill with blood as he grew angrier, his cheeks almost popping from his face. "He governed the mage guild…how foolish it was to put him in charge…"

"Can you tell us his name?" Illonel gently pried.

"Wyvhern." There was a long pause in the dressing room after that; the Duke stared into a glass pitcher of water that sat on the bar for a few moments while the group digested the information.

Celathiel nodded to his friends – he was personally sure that the Duke was telling the truth…but he had been fooled before…

Suddenly, Sic spoke. "I don't believe it. Why would he ask us why he was fired then?"

"He…asked you that? 20,000 deaths isn't enough of an answer?"

"We were sent-" Furrius started, but Illonel cut him off.

"By someone. To find out the nature of Wyvhern's dismissal from your cabinet."

The Duke chewed on his tongue for a moment. "I have a very hard time believing that you've met Wyvhern…I sentenced the man to death, but still he eludes me and my men to this day…and you walk into town and not only meet him, but survive an altercation? Unbelievable…"

"I've already shown you my scars…" Furrius protested.

"Could have been caused by anything sharp, dear boy…"

Illonel remembered the letter opener he was nearly impaled with back in room fourteen – Wyvhern had thrown it like a dagger. "We mean you no harm," he said, procuring the small, silver knife. "Wyvhern threw this at me. Surely, you know of the mark he leaves on items and people…"

"All too well…" said the Duke, examining the knife. "But this…this is too…"

Illonel sighed. "Perhaps this will be sufficient, then?" he said, handing over the spiked chain that Wyvhern himself had handed over.

"No…the letter opener will suffice…XORN!"

A large, oafish guard burst through the door – he had many ringlets on his armor.

"Yes, sire?"

"Examine this for me, would you?" he said, handing over the letter opener.

"It is a silver letter opener, sir."

"Examine it for magical properties!" the Duke snapped. Xorn hastily retreated from the room, letter opener in hand.

"We'll get back to you soon enough with the results of the test…I hope, for your sake, that you speak the truth…" the Duke said, leaving the group in the room alone once more.

"Let's get out of here…" Krougu said, grabbing the doorknob.

"Yeah. We've gotten what we've come for…" Illonel added, stepping up behind Krougu.

"Well, let's not be hasty…" Sic said, examining some rich looking liqueurs. Stuffing a nice bottle into his pack, Barakus followed…

"True, we have been invited to the ball of the century…let's enjoy it! C'mon…let's stick around for a little while…" Furrius asked the group.

Back on in the ballroom, the tables had been cleared away to make a dance floor – on the stage, a full sized band played wonderful, upbeat music.

"Care to dance?" Celathiel asked a pretty looking elven lady.

She looked over his shoulder nervously; eventually she looked back at him and noncommittally said, "sure."

Sic, Barakus and Furrius toasted at the punchbowl as Celathiel attempted to sweep the girl off her feet – unfortunately for the half-elf, halfway through their first dance, she squirmed out of his grasp, grabbed Illonel by the hand and pulled him backstage, behind the curtain.

"Ohhh!" Furrius said, smiling wide.

"Lady knows what she wants!" Sic added, laughing openly in Celathiel's shocked face.