by R J Hanson
“Yes,” Ashcliff said.
“I will need some rest,” Eldryn said.
“Yes, you will, I could use some myself,” Roland said. “We will camp here for a few days. I’ll take the giant heads and mount them on poles in a perimeter around us. That will hopefully discourage any more visitors. At least for a short time.”
Ashcliff’s hands worked deftly yet gently around Eldryn’s wound. He cleaned it with a cloth soaked in the hot water and applied the poultice, comprised of the mud-root-moss combination, around the exposed bone.
“Don’t we need to reset the bone first?” Roland asked.
“The poultice will do that,” Ashcliff said. “El’ will need time to heal, but this should mesh the bone back together and close the wound in a day or two. El’, let me know if your stomach begins to hurt or feels hard to the touch. That could indicate bleeding on the inside. I didn’t see any, but you should watch for it just the same. The main thing is that you’re not coughing blood which means there’s most likely no damage to the lungs.”
Roland and Eldryn marveled at their friend and the secrets he must know.
The three young men camped for a few days resting and healing. Eldryn’s wounds healed at an extremely accelerated rate. Roland and Eldryn were both amazed.
“I’ve been trained in many things,” was Ashcliff’s only answer to their questioning looks.
They began their trek again after all had rested well. Their traveling was slower now, but they pushed on steadily.
By sunset of the third day after leaving the encampment near their battle with the giants, the boys came upon the hole in the earth where Ashcliff’s equipment had once rested. They found a bare hole and a cold campsite. They were well upon the mountains now and could see the western end of the northern range.
“And what now?” Eldryn asked.
“Now we head toward Nolcavanor,” Ashcliff said. “This site is cold, but only a few days old. They will travel afoot from here. Yorketh will have to conserve his power for what lays ahead of them so he won’t be teleporting them any farther. Two of us travel afoot, but we have a horse to carry our equipment and a rider. Dawn has a remarkable endurance, but Yorketh runs like an aging bartender with lung rot.”
All three laughed at the thought of the old wizard scurrying over these rocky climbs.
“So, we will gain time on them,” Roland said. “Ashcliff you ride from here on in. You run like a deer, but you don’t have the wind that El and I do. Eldryn and I have healed tremendously, thanks to you. If we do catch them, I don’t want to be tied up on horseback anyway.”
“What about me?” Eldryn asked.
“I know you treasure the idea of fighting from horseback, but you can’t use that longbow of yours from horseback. If we come upon them you will need to get an arrow into that mage. Your first arrow must incapacitate him. I know better than to underestimate my female opponent this time, but I cannot calculate what a wizard might do.”
“Very well,” Eldryn said. “You can reason well enough, Roland, when it suits your purposes.”
Now only two of them laughed.
“Have you a better idea?” Roland asked.
“No, no,” Eldryn said. “I was just remarking on your skill at fortifying your heart’s desire with reason and philosophy.”
“May I ask you two a question,” Ashcliff said.
“Of course,” both boys answered in unison.
“Does it really burn? Your blood I mean,” Ashcliff said. “I assume from what I know of the two of you that you are both of the Great Man race and likely pure in the blood.”
“What do you mean, ‘burn?’” Eldryn asked.
“Legend is that the Great Man race is from the times when champions and gods took on human lovers,” Ashcliff continued. “Some scoff at the idea, but I have seen other things…” Ashcliff trailed off at that realizing what he was about to say.
“I’ve heard the same stories,” Roland said missing the fact that Ashcliff almost divulged something he wished to keep hidden. “About the beginning of our race anyway. I’m not sure what you mean by our blood burning though. You’ve seen us both bleed and it’s as red as your own.”
“Not actually burn,” Ashcliff said. “I’ve heard that the blood of champions and gods was too strong for their offspring and that it drove some of them mad and made others into giants and ogres. I’ve heard that the rage and vanity of the old kings is the result of that power. Some say that it is too much for a human body.”
Roland and Eldryn exchanged a look.
“I’m not sure how to answer you,” Roland said. “I have a quick and dangerous temper sometimes…”
“Sometimes?” Eldryn said.
“As I was saying,” Roland continued while cutting his eyes at Eldryn. “I’ve seen horse thieves and cut purses with bad temperament as well. Is that different? I don’t know. I can tell you that as far back as I can remember father has taught us to control ourselves. When we were younger, I sometimes got so angry that I lost time. When I would come to, I had struck or broken something. I would go into what father called a ‘black rage.’ He said it was a family trait although I can see where some might call it a curse. I’ve never known El’ here to lose his temper though. He is always, has always been, steady.”
Eldryn opened his mouth to say something when the fact that Roland actually complimented him struck. Eldryn’s words were lost while his mind went over again what Roland had just said.
“What method did your father use to teach you to control it?” Ashcliff asked.
“He taught us about Bolvii,” Roland said. “It began with teaching and reading which led to faith and understanding. Most of the time you can feel it coming, the rage I mean. It’s just a matter of understanding that it’s your enemy and not your ally. It is an enemy to your friends as well. Father likened it to a blindfolded archer. When the arrow of anger is let fly there is no calling it back. The arrow strikes wherever it will and the wound it creates is upon the soul of the bowman.”
“As it comes you focus your will and try to let the anger flow away from you and not through you. As I got older the philosophies of Arto helped as well. He was a master of tactics, to be sure, but few know that his core belief was that a mind and soul must be at peace before the body can act with precision.”
Eldryn marveled at Ashcliff. Eldryn had been taught just the same as Roland, but Eldryn had never needed that training. He didn’t have the temper that Roland and Velryk seemed possessed by. Eldryn was amazed that Roland was talking about it though. He had asked Roland about his anger before, but Roland would rarely discuss it, and when he did it was never beyond single syllable responses.
For the first time Eldryn began to understand that Roland was ashamed of his temper. For the first time Eldryn began to understand that Roland envied him for what Roland must assume was masterful control when in truth it was not. Eldryn couldn’t remember any time that he was angry. He had been sad, of course, and disappointed at times. When training, and more recently in battle, he felt his nerves tingle at the prospect of combat. Never anger, though. He wondered if he would have ever realized those things if it had not been for Ashcliff and his open question. In these weeks on the road Eldryn had learned more about his friend than he had in their years growing up together.
“Roland,” Ashcliff said, “you continue to surprise me.”
The boys traveled two hours past sunset along their path. Two more days of traveling brought them past five more campsites, the last still had warm embers. That night, on a ridge high above them they all saw the fire of a distant camp.
“Cold camps from here on in,” Roland said.
“Chew on these,” Ashcliff offered the others a few leaves he had collected during their journey. “The dark green ones will help you sleep, and the tinted blue ones will help keep your blood warm against the winds of the cold nights.”
“What are these?” Eldryn asked.
“They are simple leaves, with
some unusual powers.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of ingesting all of these leaves that possess ‘unusual powers,’” Eldryn said. “They helped heal me well enough, but magical plants. I don’t know if I like the idea.”
“Salt has the power to dry out hides and kill snails. Pepper has the power to make a grown man sneeze. This is no different.”
“Very well,” Eldryn said with an acceptance that had, thus far in his life, been reserved for only Roland’s wild ideas. “This is different than salt and pepper, though.”
Each of the three looked up toward the distant fire with mixed emotions. Revenge, fear, uncertainty, and a desire for redemption blended in their hearts.
Chapter IV
Ruined Nolcavanor
That morning the air was brisk and the sun was still an hour from the land’s brim. Each boy rose, shook the frost off of his blanket, and stretched the stiffness out of his muscles.
Roland laid his axes and his bastard sword out on his blanket. He began to work the blades of each weapon with his whetstone, and then oiled them. Roland strapped on his breastplate, arm bracers, and leg greaves. Then he slung his axes on his weapons belt, placed his sword in its scabbard on his back, and stuck the flame blade behind his weapons belt on his side.
Eldryn oiled his bastard sword, and strung his bow. He made a careful count of the arrows in his quiver. He had taken the time to mark the three arrows that were taken from the ogre with their special purposes. Eldryn then fastened each special arrow to a different spot on the edge of his quiver with a rawhide strip and tied each with a slipknot.
Ashcliff put his cloak and light jacket on the horse. He took cloth and tied his loose-fitting woven trousers tight to his legs. He did the same with the deer skin shirt Roland had fashioned for him.
They had barbed Roland about his potential career as a seamstress should being a warrior not suit him. But the shirt was well made, and Roland was beginning to learn how to take a joke.
Ashcliff counted out his five daggers, one borrowed from El, and four taken from the ogre. Four very special daggers taken from the ogre. Ashcliff dug into the cold ashes of Yorketh and Dawn’s fire that marked their previous campsite. He smeared ash on his hands, exposed forearms, and face.
“From here, I will be in the shadows,” Ashcliff said. “I can serve you better from there. If they see you two approaching, I may be able to provide them with an unexpected surprise.”
“Very well,” Roland said. “Be in the shadows, but be close.”
“If you cannot track them from the fire that we saw last night, the entrance to the caverns leading to Nolcavanor is concealed in an ancient lava flow. Look for the black sharp rock from the old flow. It will have been partially covered by sediment and over growth, but the black rock is there. Along the trail you will find where it forms a wall next to the path. Follow that wall, tracing it with your hand. There is a crack there, just big enough for a large man, but it is concealed by an overlap of the wall.”
“If we need you to track?” Eldryn asked.
“Then just call, I will remain within ear shot.”
Roland threw his cloak over the back of the horse so that his arms would be free of it in case he had to move quickly. Eldryn threw his strung bow over his shoulder and hung his shield on the saddle horn. Then Eldryn mounted their remaining horse. The mark of the firelight from their prey’s camp led them all to believe it unlikely they would run across Yorketh and Dawn on a mountain trail. They would be in the caverns soon. Ashcliff disappeared into the brush to their north without a sound.
Roland began walking and Eldryn rode behind him. Both young men were edgy, but the years of training for moments like this one had them better prepared than most.
It took Roland and Eldryn longer than they expected to reach the point of the fire they had seen the night before. They found the familiar remnants of a campsite, and nothing more. Eldryn was able to identify a few tracks around the camp, but nothing leading more than ten yards from the area.
Roland could see the change in the shape of the mountain. It would have been easy to miss for the casual eye, but Roland knew what he was looking for and more importantly how to look. Velryk had taught them many things and this knowledge among them. Most read from left to right. Those that don’t read still develop a habit of looking something over from one side across to the other in a consistent pattern. You must learn to see, not to just look. When scanning the horizon, or a trail from a trap, look from left to right. But then go back from right to left. See what is before. Don’t just point the lamps in your head this way and that. He spotted the area where the lava flow had slowed between two peaks and formed a wall between them. Tracing that wall back with his eye he found the entrance to the path leading up the mountain face.
“You may as well leave your mount here,” Roland said. “Even if you manage to get him up the trail much further, we will still have to leave him at the lava wall.”
“You’re right,” Eldryn said with a resigned sigh.
Eldryn dismounted and took two waterskins off of the saddle. He handed one to Roland and then shouldered his shield. Eldryn stripped the rest of the gear off of the horse and released him. On this mountain a horse tied up was a meal lashed to a tree. At least this way the horse could defend himself, and might even return to his master’s call, if we get out of this, Eldryn thought.
Roland watched Eldryn removing the saddle and saddle bags. After a quick evaluation of the gear he already carried, he took seventy-five feet of rope, a heavy tarp, five tent pegs, another waterskin, a piece of flint, and a seal skin filled with lamp oil. He placed most of those items in one of the saddlebags and threw it over one shoulder. Eldryn, seeing this, took up three prepared torches, extra cloth, and another seal skin of lamp oil.
Eldryn grinned at Roland, “some adventurers we are. We almost forgot that it gets dark underground.”
Roland smiled back at him. It was a smile that showed a confidence that he did not feel. This battle would be different for Roland. In the jail against Yorketh and Dawn, and on the plains against the ogre and then the giants, Roland had no time for thought. He reacted to a violent situation without thought, allowing years of conditioning to do their work. Now he had plenty of time to think. Now Roland considered the taking of a life. Now Roland was afraid.
He had never killed a man, or woman, before. Velryk had taught them much, but, according to him, no words or books could completely prepare a man for the taking of a life. Defending himself was one thing, instinct. Now he set out to capture or kill. Those he hunted were evil, of that he had no doubt. What he must do was clear before him. However, how it might affect him was not. He had heard of soldiers and knights who developed a taste for killing and had heard of others that it had broken.
He was not a killer, nor was he broken by shame or guilt. Not yet. He desired the life of a knight. All his life he thought of nothing but the honor of standing for the weak against the wicked, of taking his place in the stories and legends of the heroes of old. Roland faced his true fear now. He was afraid to fail.
Both young men started up the path that Roland’s eye had selected. After climbing for what they guessed to be three hours they found a sign. Eldryn spotted a bush bearing thorns that had snatched a piece of cloth from a dark cloak.
The altitude was getting thinner, and both boys were feeling the bite of winter. The night before they had used the leaves given to them by Ashcliff. Now they each took a tinted blue leaf and began to chew.
Once those were consumed, Eldryn produced a smoking leaf from his dwindling supply. He tore off a portion and gave it to Roland and then decided that lighting his own would be too much trouble and perhaps not tactically sound.
Eldryn bit off his own piece of the leaf and began to work it into his jaw. Roland took the piece of smoking leaf and began to chew. They spat into the snow, and both boys continued on their way to the wall of frozen lava and black, sharp glass.
They reached t
he path that led along the side of the wall. Eldryn noticed a tracing in the dirt along the wall made by what he assumed were human fingers. They followed those tracings until the markings disappeared.
Roland took the leather gauntlet off of his left hand and began to trace where the marks had left off. Immediately he noticed a slight draft and could feel the sharp curve of the overlap. The path was all but invisible. The pattern of the rock flowed together and was concealed in shadow, eluding all but the sharpest eye.
Roland looked around for Ashcliff, but to no avail. If Ashcliff was out there, he was well hidden. Roland took his axes from his belt and began down what he considered a very narrow path. From time to time both boys would stop and hold their breath after one or the other’s armor would scrape the wall of the narrow passage. After another hour of stalking along the path they came to a clearing.
Roland looked up for the first time after being in the passage and understood the clearing.
“It’s a bubble,” Roland said.
“What?”
“A bubble. When the lava ran through here it began to cool quickly. It was still very hot, and boiling. This clearing was a bubble that was forming and didn’t burst before the lava cooled to a solid. Look,” Roland said as he pointed upward.
Eldryn looked up and saw what Roland was talking about. He could see where the top of the bubble had soared toward the sky and then was frozen in place. The crest of the bubble was shattered now, which explained the shards of jagged black glass among the sediment in the clearing. Eldryn could see the sharp and irregular rim of what was once molten rock above them.
“So, what now?” Eldryn asked.
“Now we find the entrance to fame, glory, and riches,” Roland replied jovially.
“You shouldn’t attempt to joke,” Eldryn said. “You’re no good at it. Leave the joking to me.”
Roland hung up his axes and took out his bastard sword. He began searching the perimeter of the ‘bubble.’ Eldryn took down his long bow and knocked an arrow. Eldryn then began searching the interior of the ‘bubble’ for signs of an entrance.
