Spears of Ladis

by RG Long

  And then, he saw it. In the sky over the horizon, growing brighter with each blink. A beacon of light. A bright blue pillar in the sky. Snart could see it, but he could also feel it. There was some type of magic at work. Something very powerful and strong. It called to him. It told him to come. He desired to come and feel the light on his skin.

  He began to move towards it without even knowing that he was telling his claws to walk. Yet they did.

  Looking behind him, Snart could see that the two groups of lizards he commanded, lizards of all colors from both above and below, were coming to follow after him. They too had seen this beacon and were being called to it. Even Vallin had began a slow, steady march towards the light ahead of him.

  This was better than Snart could have hoped for. They needed the light. He would bring his lizards to the light.

  And there they would taste the flesh of men.

  35: Pul and His Men

  After several days marching, Pul was finally getting used to the plains of Prommus. They looked much more like the Disputed Lands than he cared to remember. His jungle homeland was far behind them now. It seemed to suit the others who had been marching with them for such a long time to not be as close to the trees where menacing lizards and other beasts of the forest lived.

  Although they felt it was better, Pul knew the landscape was certainly not ideal. In every large town they found caravans of supplies willing to follow them for a week or two, but then they would tighten their belts and hope that they could last until they made it to the next larger city.

  After weeks of following the King's command to march north, the next city they would encounter was the capital of the Theocracy.

  Pul had only heard stories about the famous city. He had even seen a drawing once, but he wondered how true it could have been. In the artist’s rendition, the city looked like it was not only built into the side of a mountain, but was the size of a mountain. Surely no place could hold so many people? To Pul it it seemed like the city the Prommus could hold the entire population of the rest of the Theocracy. Could it really have so many within its walls?

  There wasn’t much wondering to do now. They would soon find themselves in the protective fortress that was their capital and under the guidance of the king.

  Pul wondered if he would be able to see his face. If they would get so close so that he would be able to actually look at their ruler. Perhaps they would even receive a blessing from the high priest? There was once a time when he thought he would never step a foot outside of his jungle home. Pul had traveled much farther than he ever thought possible. He was a soldier and veteran of this terrible war against the speakers. There wasn’t much that he could show for it. Nothing except for the experience of fighting against warriors who could speak fire into existence.

  “They’re saying we’ll be there in only a day or two,” Tars said. “Are you excited?“

  Pul didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t excited per se. He didn’t want to be so far from home again, after seeing it in its ruined state. What he wanted to do was rebuild his community and establish a city there once again.

  But perhaps that was a dream of a younger man.

  “I don’t think excited is the right word,“ Pul said.

  He looked over and saw Tars was no longer paying attention. A group of scouts was coming out from the direction of the city they were marching towards. They were carrying the green flag of the Theocracy.

  Beside it was the white flag of surrender.

  The call came for the army to hold as the riders came closer. Pul wondered what bad omen this might mean.

  Being a captain, he knew that it was his duty to stay next to his men. As General Brand rode by however, he motioned that Pul should follow him.

  “Keep them in line,“ he told Tars.

  “Sure thing.“

  Pul shook his head. He didn’t think Tars would ever get the hang of chain of command and respect.

  Pul jogged after the general who rode ahead on his horse. He waved at other captains to invite them to join as they made their way to the front of the line.

  The riders had stopped several paces behind the front line of the army. Pul wondered if that was out of fear or respect. Or maybe something else.

  “Where do you hail from?” the rider next to the man with the green flag of Theocracy asked as they came closer.

  General Brand tried to stop his horse in a cloud of dust before replying.

  “The king called the armies of the Theocracy out of the Disputed Lands and our struggles against the island invaders to come and assist him with the war. We are that army.”

  The face of the man who had called out to them did not change at this information. Pul had thought that perhaps he would at least show relief. They were the promised reinforcements. Was that not good news?

  “And to which king do you pledge allegiance?“ the rider asked.

  That was a question Pul had not been expecting.

  He could tell that the general had been caught off guard by it as well.

  “King Gratis of the Theocracy,” General Brand answered with what Pul guessed was indignity. “To what other king would we owe allegiance to as faithful servants?“

  It was this response that made the rider put his face at ease. The men around him exchanged looks and nods that seemed to say that this was a correct answer.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “There has been a coup in the city of Prommus. The King has marched east with the army in order to fight the heretics who have fled there. In his absence, Prince Farnus and an army from Juttis have claimed the throne. I fear we are living in troubled times.”

  Pul was shocked. He had thought they were living in trouble times before this moment.

  What had the reinforcements from the south gotten themselves into?

  36: Close at Hand

  The dust had hardly settled on the cave floor when Ealrin heard a commotion outside. He knew that something was wrong, but he wasn’t sure which case was more dire. Olma lay on the floor in front of him and Blume seemed in a panic.

  He decided the more pressing issue was the one right in front of him, and so he ran up next to Blume.

  “What’s wrong,“ he asked.

  Blume was breathing heavily and looking around her in all directions.

  “It’s him,” she said, becoming more and more panicked with each passing breath. “It’s here. It’s him! He’s back!

  “Who are you talking about?“ Ealrin asked. “Who’s back? No one‘s here. It’s just us.”

  Although, Ealrin thought to himself, they weren’t exactly the safest group of traveling companions.

  Szabo was up and conversing with Cecil the potion master in hushed tones. Galp had made his way over to Olma and was inspecting her. Holve was at his side. The old man seemed wary and cautious. Olma’s eyes were fluttering slightly.

  Ealrin grabbed Blume by the shoulders and forced her to look at him.

  “You are okay!“ he shouted at her. “You are fine. Nothing is wrong. No one’s going to come after you.”

  Blume was shaking her head wildly.

  “I know he’s back,” she said weakly. “He called to me.”

  With those last words, Blume seemed to calm down. Instead of a state of panic, her eyes became unfocused and her breathing slowed.

  Ealrin wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one. Seeing that she was at least calm for the moment, Ealrin stood up and looked out towards the entrance of the cave. Gorplin and Tratta were coming back from inspecting it. He didn’t have to ask them to receive a report.

  “Bah, there’s definitely something you’ll need to see out here.“

  “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, you know,” Tratta said.

  “Is it an immediate problem?” Ealrin asked.

  Gorplin shrugged his shoulders.

  “If it suits you it can wait,” he said. “Bloody crazy, though.”

  Ealrin nodded and looked over at Holve and the other
s. They were still tending to Olma. Ealrin could handle ‘bloody crazy’ in just a minute. For now, he needed to see how Olma was.

  “What’s wrong with her?”” he asked no one in particular. He didn’t mind who would answer, so long as someone who knew what was going on did.

  “She’s recovering,” said the old potion master.

  “From what?” Ealrin asked.

  Szabo chuckled.

  “A very heavy dose of sedatives and mind calming herbs,” he said. “I’ve seen much stronger men put on their back for days by the same kind of work. She’s a tough one.”

  “I’ve never seen someone so possessed,” Galp said. “How does it work? Is the demon inside of her or is it controlling her from the outside? Does the demon have to be female like her, or could it be a male demon? Or do demons have male and female and they’re all just demons? That’s a particular question I haven’t yet researched...”

  Holve shook his head in response to most of Galp’s questions.

  “More likely than not, the demon inside of her is mixed within her spirit,” Cecil said. “I’ve seen my fair share of these ones in smaller form or power. Whoever has taken hold of her is no small worker. She’ll be in for it when she wakes.”

  “In for what?” Olma said, her eyes coming open with a snap. Holve, Galp and Szabo took a step back. Ealrin stayed steadfastly close to her. He knew what was coming. Or at least he guessed at it.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, knowing that the wide variety of answers she could give would not exactly answer any of his questions.

  Olma looked down at the ground and felt her chest. Her fire red hair fell over her shoulder.

  “Dizzy,” she said. “But mostly okay. Have I been alright since the barn? What happened to the others?”

  She looked around the room. Ealrin did his best to keep his eyes on her as well. Olma was clearly in shock. She had forgotten the terrible circumstances of the barn. They had gone over all of this with her before. Had the demon affected her mind?

  “Not all of us made it, ya know?” Tratta answered sadly.

  “But you,” Miss Rivius said from the back corner. “Are...different.”

  “What do you mean different?” Olma said, looking down at her hands. Her eyes became wide as she saw the markings there. A lock of hair fell in front of her face and she gasped.

  “What’s wrong with my hair?”

  Ealrin breathed a sigh of relief. If Olma had enough sense of mind to worry over her hair, he was content for now.

  “What’s happening outside?” Ealrin asked Gorplin, turning to the dwarf.

  He grunted and turned in response. Ealrin could handle that. He rose and followed the dwarf out of the cave. The suns were setting and darkness was creeping out over the land. The darkening horizon, however, was a bright blue. In the east, a giant pillar of light shot into the air.

  “Bloody wild,” Gorplin said. “Any ideas what it might be?”

  Ealrin shook his head. Away from the mountains and from Prommus, closer to where Holve had said they should meet if they got separated, was a blue beacon. It called to him. It felt like he should go to it.

  And he feared what would happen if he did.

  “Holve,” he shouted back into the cave. “You’ll want to come see this.”

  THE WHOLE COMPANY SAT outside of the cave entrance, looking at the beacon that lit up the night sky. They didn’t worry about lighting a fire. Anyone close enough to spy a blaze would be much more concerned about the blue pillar that was far away. They warmed themselves by the flames as they looked at the blue tower.

  “What do you think it means?” Miss Rivius asked.

  “It has to be Isol,” Holve answered. “The work of Yada I’d wager.”

  “And what do ya think it means?” Tratta asked.

  They kept going in circles around that very same question. They mostly agreed that the light could be the work of a very gifted speaker, though Szabo did point out a demon might be at work in it. Whether Isol or demon, however, the question was what to do about it.

  “There’s no denying it’s in the direction we told Serinde and the others to meet us,” Holve said. “If they’ve been able to get back our weapons, the books and Blume’s amulet, we’ll have to head that direction.”

  “Then let’s get going that direction!” Gorplin said, obviously irritated with the slow going of the conversation. He sat with his arms folded, looking cross.

  Ealrin was sure that would be what they had to do. At least at some point. But with the armies marching behind them and the unknown and unseen troubles ahead of them, would it be the right choice to go headlong into the unknown? It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “We should go,” Holve said with a tone of finality. “Gather what supplies we can and head there. If Silverwolf and the others have been successful, they may have all we need in order to get off this continent.”

  “I thought you wanted to do something about the Theocracy?” Miss Rivius said.

  “I do,” Holve nodded. “And if they’ve managed to do the task I set them, both can happen.”

  Ealrin took a deep breath. He felt like they were making a plan that would end poorly. He had no reason to think this, but something inside of him caused him concern.

  “Let’s get goin’ then,” Tratta said. “The sooner we can put a cap on ole’ Yada the better.”

  “Everyone goes,” Holve said again, turning around and crossing his arms. “But Olma should stay here with someone. Anyone willing to volunteer.”

  Ealrin felt an immediate desire to fight this proclamation. He was not alone, apparently.

  “Leave the girl here?” Miss Rivius said, crossing her own arms. “That’s not a very wise thing to do, Holve. Not with the armies of the Theocracy out and about.”

  “We can’t have her come with us,” Holve said again. Ealrin heard the tone in Holve’s voice that said that he was not willing to negotiate this.

  Ealrin had known Holve to consider Blume important to any endeavor they undertook. He was surprised by the finality of his mentor. It hurt him.

  “Why?” he asked.

  He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound so accusing and angry, but he couldn’t help it. He was upset. The companions around the fire fell silent and shifted themselves. Ealrin could tell they were looking from him to Holve, but he didn’t meet any of their eyes. He was looking at the older man he called his friend and guide.

  “Why can’t we take her? We’ve got to protect her. Like we do for Blume. Like we do for everyone we’ve taken with us. That’s what we do. We take care of people. We look for peace, not to abandon someone.”

  Holve shook his head.

  “This is different,” He said.

  Ealrin looked defiantly at Holve.

  “What makes this any different than Blume? Or Jurrin?”

  “Oh don’t bother about me Mister Ealrin...” Jurrin said feebly from beside the fire.

  Holve’s eye reflected the firelight in them. Ealrin saw his brow furrow and expression harden.

  “Blume is a speaker,” Holve said, pointing to her as she sat warming herself by the fire. She had been quiet for much of the evening. “She channels the magic of the rimstone by speaking to it and bringing out the elements it controls. She can manage her magic. She can control it.”

  Ealrin thought there was something to argue about the controlling part since coming to Ladis, but he didn’t want to fight. Not yet.

  “Olma,” Holve said, pointing to her as she stood by, looking placid and calm. “Is possessed by a demon. An ancient foe who may be able to see everything she sees and hear everything she hears. It may very well be telling its foul allies every word of this conversation! Olma is now a spy for them! We cannot risk having those things know what we’re doing and see what we’re seeing. It risks too much!”

  Holve took a deep breath. His eyes softened, but only slightly.

  “We can come back when it’s over and make sure she’s safe.”


  Ealrin finally broke his stare with Holve to look at Olma. The girl they had found in the jungles of Ladis and had brought all the way here. The one who had endured so much in such a little time. The one who was possessed by a demon.

  She looked between Ealrin and Holve, a look of apprehension in her face. Ealrin blinked. Had he seen something in her eyes? Surely it was a trick of the fire. But their fire was not a shade of blue.

  He shook himself.

  “We can’t leave her behind,” Ealrin said, making up his mind. “I’ll take her myself if I have to. We’ll split up. But we can’t just leave her.”

  “We won’t just be leaving her,” Holve said. “The potion master will be here with her along with anyone else who volunteers.”

  It was at that moment that Szabo and Cecil came out of the cave. The Potion Master had several bags around his hips and over his shoulders. He was also wearing a large and heavy cloak.

  “The Potion Master is leaving,” Szabo announced. “Too much going on for him around here. What with the demons and the beacon, we’ll be heading south soon. Probably to Arranus.”

  Holve put his hand up to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

  “We can’t leave her,” Ealrin said again, more forcefully this time.

  Ferrin stood up. He had been sitting dutifully at Miss Rivius’ feet.

  “I have to agree with the lad on this one,” he said before bowing to Rivius. “Of course, I will go where Miss Rivius does. But leaving such a young one behind seems cruel at best.”

  Jurrin stood up, though the effect was more muted than Ferrin’s gesture.

  “I’m with Mister Ealrin.”

  Tratta shook her head and went to stand behind Holve.

  “I can’t stand it, but it’s the facts, ya know? A demon with us is a bad deal. Plus, remember what happened in the barn, ya know? Leave her and come back later to get her. She’ll have enough food and what not.”

  Miss Rivius shook her head.

  “I’ll not travel with demons,” she said.

  Ealrin looked at Ferrin, who swallowed, but made no argument.