Robert Newcomb - The Scrolls of the Ancients

"And those are?" Tyranny asked.

"First, that you conduct all of your nautical activities under our aegis alone," Wigg answered sternly. "This shall also be spelled out in your letters of marque. The news that piracy has resurfaced in Eutracia is disturbing, to say the least. So far, your unsolicited services to the monarchy have been exemplary. Therefore, I will grant all that the prince has asked for on your behalf. But should we receive any word that you are using your funds or your newly acquired fleet to violate Eutracian law, or to enhance your own wealth outside of what shall be allowed by the letters of marque, we shall take swift and decisive action against you. In addition, you are to visit the royal palace no less than once every three months, at which time you shall relinquish our percentage of whatever bounty you have taken, and give us your written reports."

Sitting back in his chair, Wigg placed his hands flat on the tabletop. "My second condition is that all of your expenses-including the purchase of further vessels, their maintenance and repair, and the payment of your crews-must come either out of your share of the booty, or the funds that have come your way as a result of this bargain," he added. "As part of this agreement, we may rescind our letters of marque at any time of our choosing, and for any reason we deem necessary. That is how it has always been, even going as far back as Isaac. But until you see fit to retire, or we see fit to retire you, it seems you now work for us, young lady. As does your rather huge, very quiet first mate."

Tyranny had barely dared dream that the things the prince had told her might be true, much less that she would be granted such gifts and privileges. She looked over at Scars, and he nodded his approval. She turned back to the table.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice cracking. "Thank you all."

"Oh, don't thank me quite yet," Wigg answered with a sigh. "I haven't written out a proper letter of marque in over three centuries. I'm not even sure I can remember how one goes. For all I know, I may end up giving you the recipe for pheasant under glass."

Everyone at the table laughed. Then Tristan decided that it was time for him to reveal what might be Tyranny's most valuable secret of all.

"There is something else that our new friend has agreed to provide us with," he said as the table finally quieted down. "She believes she has actually seen the island fortress where Krassus is keeping the slaves. She has marked it on her charts, and is willing to make duplicates of them for us."

"Is this true, child?" Faegan asked breathlessly.

This time Scars decided to speak. "It is indeed," he answered for his captain, in his booming voice. "When we first came upon the fortress, I marked out our position and entered the location on the charts myself."

Everyone except Geldon, Tyranny, and Tristan turned toward the war-torn, bare-chested colossus.

"Uh, thank you, Scars," Wigg said awkwardly, as this was the first time he'd heard the eloquent first mate speak. "I should like to receive those copies of your charts at your earliest convenience."

The newly minted privateers nodded back.

Dawn would soon be creeping through the windows, and everyone around the table was clearly exhausted. Still, there remained things that Wigg desperately wanted to tell Tristan-things that couldn't wait, and that could only be said in private. He looked up at the group.

"Geldon, I would be very thankful if you would escort our two new guests to their rooms, where they might finally get some rest," he half asked, half ordered. "Faegan and I must speak to the prince in private now."

Geldon, Tyranny, and Scars all stood.

Wigg looked up at them and smiled. "Sleep well," he told them. "Tomorrow there will be much more to discuss."

An ear-to-ear grin on her face, Tyranny walked over to Wigg and bent down to kiss his cheek. The lead wizard turned red. Then she turned and followed Geldon and Scars to the door. But before going through, she stopped and walked back to where Tristan was sitting.

Raising her right hand to her face, she spat into her palm. Understanding, the prince stood and did the same. He then slapped his palm into hers. "Done," he said.

"And done," she answered back. "And thank you." Turning on her heel, she walked out the door.

With Tyranny and Scars finally gone, Wigg turned his aquamarine eyes toward the prince. He didn't waste any time getting started.

"Much has happened while you were away," he said solemnly, "and very little of it has been good."

Tristan listened intently, and for the next two hours the people he cared for so much told him of all that had happened in his absence. When they were done, Tristan slumped back into his chair, stunned. There was so much new information to absorb, his mind didn't know where to begin. Then Faegan gave him the most recent piece of news.

"The Minion patrols have informed us that no demonslaver activity seems to be taking place anywhere in the kingdom," the ancient wizard said. "None of their slave ships have been spotted within the Minions' flying range from the coast. For the time being, at least, we seem to be free of them." Thinking for a moment, he gave Nicodemus another stroke on the head. "But that can only mean one thing."

No one had to tell Tristan what that was. "If they have given up taking slaves, that means they have finally found Wulfgar," he said softly, sadly. He looked over at Shailiha and clasped her outstretched hand. "And if Krassus now has both the Scroll of the Vagaries and Wulfgar, our futures will be very dark indeed."

For a moment his thoughts went to the half brother he had never seen, had never even known existed until only a short time ago. What was Wulfgar suffering at the hands of the wizard Krassus? Tristan wondered. Were they soon to become mortal enemies? Finding his reflections too painful to cling to, his mind sheered away.

"What about the Isle of Sanctuary?" he finally asked. "Tyranny says that there were papers left behind that seem to indicate the Directorate's involvement. And there are some extraordinarily beautiful buildings there. Some of which, I'm sorry to say, have been desecrated by the pirates. How is it that we have never heard of this place until now?"

Sighing, Wigg looked over at Faegan and waited for the inevitable reaction. It wasn't long in coming.

"Yes, please do explain," Faegan said with a frown. It was suddenly clear to everyone that even he did not know about Sanctuary. And if there was one thing Faegan couldn't abide, it was being left in the dark-especially when the subject had to do with the craft.

"The Isle of Sanctuary was not 'created' by the Directorate," Wigg explained. "At least not in the sense that we could cause an entire land mass to suddenly rise up out of the Sea of Whispers. We do not possess such gifts, I'm sorry to say. The island already existed. It was uninhabited, of sufficient size for our needs, and had not yet been charted. It therefore seemed perfect. Faegan had already been taken prisoner by the Coven at that time, so he had no knowledge of it."

"But why would you require such an island, Father?" Celeste asked.

"The Tome ordered us to create a secret place of the craft," Wigg answered softly. "A 'sanctuary' for the Vigors, as it were-hence the name. It was to be a place far away from prying eyes. It was to be a sacred place, to be used only by the Chosen Ones who would eventually come into our world. Given that description, this site couldn't very well be the Redoubt, now, could it? As I said, the island seemed perfect for our needs. The buildings were constructed soon after the formation of the Directorate. The moment the buildings were completed, a strange, immovable fog bank surrounded the island. To this day I neither know how, nor why."