Chapter Seventeen Imprisoned

Marith and her party returned to Nomm via airship and landed at the Sky-port. They took a small personal airship to the Herbalt’s wizard order and docked and entered the tower. Marith looked up but the wizard who had been stuck in a teleportation loop appeared to have escaped from it. They marched up the stairs the rest of her party had barely spoken to her the entire journey and the silence was not broken now. They entered the wizard conclave and Marith set down the tome on the table and stepped back.

“Our quest is complete,” she said and felt a sense of peace and accomplishment fall over her.

“And were you able to kill all of the terrorist’s?” a voice asked and Marith turned to see a gnome sitting in a raised chair with a golden circlet on his head.

“No, there was no need,” she replied.

“No need? Am I to believe they merely gave you the tome?” the gnome asked disbelievingly. He was obviously some noble and Marith found herself disliking him.

“That is exactly what happened,” she answered.

“And why would they do that?” the royal asked.

“Because she is the wife of their leader,” Aura said and Marith found herself grinding her teeth in anger.

“Is this true?” the royal asked.

“Yes,” Marith replied. “I explained the situation to my husband. He had lost his memory, once he realized the damage the tome was doing, he gave it to me without a fight.”

“I don’t believe we can trust this individual,” another voice spoke, and a man stepped out of the shadows revealing the robes of an Inquisitor of Zizula. “The movements of the Turashen have increased in these lands and from what I have heard of your battle your husband,” he said addressing Marith, “has allied himself with one of them.”

Marith shrugged. “The Turashen are part of your war Inquisitor, Fesla has no quarrel with Pathaldron.”

“Neither has she allied with him,” the inquisitor shot back. “My king I urge that you send another airship after these terrorists and destroy them. We have been on the trail of one of the Turashen who goes by the name of Faceless for a while, he recently killed one of our name keepers in a town twenty miles away from Nomm,” the inquisitor reported. “The reports our field agents have reported that the gremlin tribes have been gathering up the other races of goblinoid and are amassing a horde. The presence of one their priests with this band of destroyers bodes ill.”

Marith was angry, Wraith had done nothing to them but carry around a book, but they were already plotting his assassination. Putting aside her rage she made a plan; she would return home and get her children then come back and find Darren. He could handle himself, she almost pitied the inquisitor.

“Do what you will, my quest is done I am going home back to my children,” she replied and turned and pushed against the door.

Golden bars of light appeared along the door. “Your majesty I fear it is ill-advised to let this adventurer go. True she has helped us but her feelings towards her husband could lead her to try to warn him,” the inquisitor said.

Marith turned back to him her eyes blazing. “You have no right to imprison me,” she snarled.

“This is my kingdom,” the gnome said, “And I must agree with High Inquisitor Falon, it is unfortunate, but you will have to be detained until after your husband has been dealt with. You will not be mistreated I assure you, we will keep you under house arrest in the palace. I apologize at this breach in your freedom, but the safety of my country takes precedence over all else,” the king apologized.

Marith felt shackles of golden light wrap around her wrists and she seethed with anger. “My husband will kill you,” she said to the inquisitor.

“Perhaps but I am willing to die for my God,” he said with a slight smile. “And no matter your husband's strength he is no match for the entire holy army of Zizula.

The king turned to Marith’s party. “Will you aid us in tracking down and defeating this Wraith individual and his party?” he asked them.

The others looked at each other and then at Marith guiltily but nodded. They wouldn’t look her in the eye and their faces were torn with guilt.

“We don’t have a cleric right now,” Herbalt said.

“I can see to that,” the inquisitor said and walked up to Aura. “Child, you have been touched by the darkness, do you accept Zizula’s light? Will you let it enter you and change you and will you wield it for his purpose?” he asked her.

Aura bit her lip but nodded. The inquisitor placed both hands on her shoulders and kissed her brow. A beam of light entered in through a window and struck Aura in the chest and her whole body began to glow with radiant light. Aura let out a cry, part pain part ecstasy. A glowing mark appeared on her chest and it faded into silvery lines.

“You will have to be careful my child, your name has not been hidden so if one of the Turashen kills you they can capture your soul and offer it up to Pathaldron,” the inquisitor warned.

“I understand,” Aura said.

“We will leave at dawn tomorrow,” the inquisitor said.

Marith was taken away an escort of spell-snipers and priest took her to the palace and imprisoned her in a spacious bedroom. Marith sat on the bed and shook with emotion. Rage, fear, grief, and sorrow warred within her and she slowly breathed and calmed herself. She would not be a prisoner, she would break free and find her children and go to her husband. Anyone who stood in her way would have to pay the price.