Jundag

by Chris A. Jackson

  "Exactly!" the king said with a grim grin. "Ye've jist given every reason I could think o' why ye should be the one ta lead. The one thing this troop needs if it's gonna come back successful, much less come back at all, is ta operate like no military unit normally would. This attack’s gotta be three things: quick, silent and deadly. Ye said yerself that yer more likin' ta skulkin' than bashin' yer way through, and that's exactly what yer gonna have ta do, fer ye are indeed outnumbered...by a whole nation! If this attack is discovered before it strikes the city itself, they'll have time ta organize and they'll exterminate ye. So ye've gotta be quick ta outrun any rumors o' attack; ye've gotta be silent, ta avoid contact at all times; and ye've gotta be deadly, so that when ye are found out, there ain't no survivors ta go runnin' ta warn 'em." He paused and fixed DoHeney with a knowing and admiring stare. "And among this company, I'd say ye are the sneakiest, quietest and deadliest dwarf I know. Are there any objections ta my appointment of DoHeney ta lead the assault force against the dark-worshipin' scum?"

  "Yer bloody right there—"

  "Ye don't count!" DoHurley snapped at his unwilling nephew. "And since no one else has a problem wi' it, ye got the job!"

  A raucous cheer of support rang out from those around the table, and DoHeney scowled at them one by one. In their eyes he saw none of the scorn he supposed would be there, only hope. These were seasoned veterans here, old war dogs with battle experience. All his life he had dealt with their snide comments about sneaking and skullduggery, jibes about a sly dwarfling grown into a shifty adult. Now, apparently, after all these years they were finally seeing the value of his skills. Well, fine! If they wanted him to lead them, then he would. But by the thunder in The Maker's Hammer, I'll do it me own way!

  "Okay, then!" he bellowed to quiet the mob. "If yer so all-fired anxious ta have me as yer leader, then I'll be yer leader." The group nearly cheered again, but his glare silenced them.

  "But I'm warnin' ye, ye ain't especially gonna like it!" Their proud smiles faded just a bit before he continued. "First, I want ta leave the lower caverns first thing in the mornin'. Any who's not ready is left behind ta look after Zellohar and our guests from Refuge. Second, I want every single one o' them gods-damned hobnailed boots left behind. The troops'll wear soft leather or nothin' on their feet! And I want equipment and weapons packed so's not ta rattle like a mule cart full o' pots and pans. An’ that, too," he added as the grumbling started, “we’ll take no pack animals, so yer carryin’ everythin’ on yer backs.”

  Reluctantly, perhaps regretting their previous cheers, they nodded their assent.

  "And last, and this is one thing ye missed, Yer Majesty, and the very thing ye all are gonna like least. There's one more item ye need ta fight them dark-worshipin' worms, and that's magic." The soldiers' eyes bulged like eggs on a plate. "We'll be takin' along every single wizard from Refuge that’s willin' ta go, and every priest from both there and Zellohar. They'll slow us a bit, but I got a feelin’ we'll be needin’ 'em once we get there. Any questions?"

  "What about provisions?" one commander asked gruffly.

  "Each soldier carries one week's cold rations. The priests can provide food fer most, and much better'n we could bring anyways. That'll also save time, fer ye only need one such meal a day. Anythin' else?"

  Silence reigned.

  "Good." DoHeney rocked from heel to toe and regarded his now-less-enthusiastic lieutenants critically. "I want ye ta give me all the information ye can, and all the ideas ye think of along the way, but my final decision will be jist that: final. Understand? Now, there's gonna be a lot o' ways ta end up dead on this trip, so let's try not increase anyone's chances o' takin' the big sleep unnecessary like, okay?" There was a unanimous agreement among the soldiers. "Good. Now, ye got 'til mornin', so I guess ye all got yer work cut out fer ye. I'll take care o’ organizin' the priests and wizards, so ye need not worry yerselves over that. If there're any problems, I'll be in me quarters."

  The dwarves filed out, discussing tasks and duties, leaving the king and his newest captain staring solemnly at one another.

  "I hope yer right about this," DoHeney warned sternly, still displeased with his conscription.

  "I am," DoHurley answered. "And ye know it dern well."

  Well, Avari grudgingly admitted to herself, being with the Captain of the Guard does expedite things. But she hadn’t felt that way an hour ago.

  After his mysterious pronouncement that he could help them, Yen had left them cooling their heels in the study, commanding them to eat and rest while they could. Avari had munched on a few of those air-filled pastries that had so annoyed her when she lived here, and had just vowed to starve before eating another when a servant brought more substantial fare: rare roasted beef, loaves of hearty brown bread, and spicy horseradish. Her favorites, which of course Yen knew. She had steeled herself—If he thinks he’ll be forgiven by plying me with food—and dug in. But she had worked herself into a state of self-righteous impatience by the time he returned a half hour later.

  “I have a carriage waiting to take us to the palace,” he announced. Avari saw him glance at her plateful of crumbs and smile, and she pushed the offending stoneware aside.

  “To the Starstone?” she asked skeptically.

  “To the Starstone,” he replied.

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” He had seemed quite confident that they would get the artifact, despite Borgland’s warnings that they’d need a miracle to pry it out of Belregash’s clutches.

  “If you’re just saying this to—”

  “Avari,” he said, “I’m not lying, but if you want to stand here and argue about it...”

  It had only taken another half hour to travel to the palace, breeze through the guard stations—“Yes, sir, Captain, sir, and hello, Miss Avari! Are you back with us for good this time?”—and arrive at the wing that housed the Royal Retinue.

  Yen rapped smartly on a door etched with arcane runes, and after a moment they heard what sounded like a rumble of thunder approaching from inside.

  “What’s the meaning of this intrusion?” grouched Feldspar as he opened the door, his hair askew as if he had slept on it wrong. “I was taking an after-dinner nap, and— Captain!” Immediately his eyes grew wide and he put out his hands as if to grab Yen. “Do you have it?”

  Yen chuckled. “I have it, Feldspar. But—“

  “Oh, that wonderful woman! Please, give her my regards, my good wishes, and, hell, give her a bag of gold! Well, bring it in, bring it in!”

  Feldspar suddenly spied the rest of the group behind Yen, and his gaze fell on Avari. To her surprise, Feldspar grew even more excited.

  “Avari! Avari, you’re back! Oh, Yenjil, I knew you’d find someway to get into her good graces again! Now perhaps you’ll stop moping around like a lovesick—"

  The captain pushed Feldspar back into the room and motioned the others to follow.

  “Where is it?” Feldspar asked after shutting the door. “I’ll get Voncellia, and we’ll—"

  Yen held up his hand. “I must talk with all of you first, and you have to agree to do things my way.”

  Avari’s hackles rose. “Don’t you start ordering us—"

  Shay put a calming hand on her arm. “Yenjil, what is going on?”

  Yen pulled a velvet bag out of his pocket, undid the strings, and held up the contents. It was a beautiful cut-crystal star with twelve points, each a different hue. For a long moment, “oooohs” and “aaaahs” were the only sounds.

  “The Starstone,” breathed Feldspar as he reached to grasp it.

  Shay looked on warily. “Why do you want the Starstone?”

  “It seems,” Yen said with a smile, “that two groups have reached the same conclusion by different means. Shay, Avari’s dreams and visions of Jundag led to your discovery of the fortress in Pytt. Master Feldspar and the Royal Retinue were pursuing a means to save the life of their friend, and discovered the same fortress. Both of y
ou wanted the Starstone, and you both came to me. And Elestia...well, she has the ear of the empress and, to make a long story short, Belregash was persuaded to loan us the Starstone. So I suggest you join forces to solve this problem and rid the world of these storms of Void essence.”

  “Storms of Void essence?” Feldspar exclaimed. “What in Hades are you talking about?”

  Yen smiled again. “I think we have a lot of filling in to do.”

  Brok watched quietly as Shay and Feldspar briefly updated each other on the information each had about the fortress in Pytt, as well as other applicable details such as Jundag’s captivity and the sisters Darkmist.

  “The Royal Retinue had already decided that Voncellia here,” Feldspar indicated his colleague who had shown up not five minutes after he had sent a messenger for her, still stuffing various odds and ends into the numerous pockets of her voluminous robes, “and I would to travel to Pytt to gather information. From there, we would determine the next step. From what you’ve told us, I think we should forget the information and just destroy the place!”

  “After getting Jundag out,” Avari said sternly.

  “Of course, after getting Jundag out,” Feldspar conceded.

  “All right then!” Yenjil said, clapping his hands and standing. “We have a means of transportation,”—he pointed to the Starstone that Feldspar held possessively—“we have supplies,”—he pointed to the provisions he had had delivered and that Hufferrrerrr was presently portioning out for each traveler to carry—“and we have a destination. Anything else?”

  Brok rose; his size was enough to bring him everyone’s attention. “I have a few concerns that need to be addressed before we go anywhere. Avari, please sit down and hear me out. I know you are anxious to leave, but unless we want this mission to fail before it even starts, we must plan ahead. I think you will share my concerns once I have outlined them. Lynthalsea has told me the tale of your retrieval of the cornerstones and defeat of Iveron Darkmist, a great achievement in planning and execution. However, this journey will be like nothing you have experienced in this world, as it will not be in this world. As a priest, much of my study has been of worlds beyond our own, other planes of existence or, as some may be called, heavens and hells. My studies were not academic, as were those of your friend, Master Braelen”—he nodded to Feldspar and Voncellia—“but spiritual. However, they have allowed me to see several problems with the plan as it stands.” Brok noted the sharp look that Shay threw him and privately sighed at the need to placate a bruised ego at such a dire time.

  “Master Shay also is a learned priest, but the problem is close to the heart for him—he was friends with Jundag—whereas I can stand back and observe objectively.” He noted Shay’s grudging acceptance of his words, and thanked Thotris for Lynthalsea’s sake, that the recalcitrant half-elf would not force his sister to choose sides. He continued. “Our destination is the fortress in Pytt, correct?”

  Several heads bobbed in unison.

  “All right. First: The shielded fortress is floating, and undoubtedly has magical protections that will prevent the Starstone from transporting us directly inside the shield. Therefore, we must have a means of staying aloft until we can penetrate the shield.” He noted several faces fall as they considered that basic fact, but continued on.

  “Second: We need a means to penetrate the shield. And third: Pytt is Draco’s lair and, as we saw in the scrying, home to thousands of dragons, spirit or no. Borgland specifically mentioned that Draco is reluctant to grant permission to enter his realm, just as any deity is proprietary when it comes to their heaven or hell. So unless we want to fight enemies on two fronts, we need to consider requesting permission to enter Pytt.”

  Everyone looked disheartened, and Brok sat. Lynthalsea reached out and squeezed his hand, and her warm touch comforted him. As much as he hated to be the bearer of bad news, there was no avoiding these concerns. It seemed that everyone had been so excited about the role of the Starstone in the big plan, they had forgotten the little lethal details.

  Feldspar cleared his throat violently. “Voncellia and I had planned to observe from outside the shield initially, and determine if we would be able to somehow pass through, perhaps on a future visit. We were to be levitated and invisible. But for all of us, and to do what we want to do now, that plan won’t work.

  “Noooo,” groaned Avari as she hid her face in her hands. Brok pitied her; the poor woman had had one obstacle after another thrown at her in her quest to free her friend. But the larger plan was no less important. The rest of the companions were quiet. Brok deliberated, casting through his memories to see if he knew of any dragon worshiper who might supply them with an introduction. But dragon worshipers were almost as rare as dragons, and to get an introduction, one must—

  “Wait!” he said. “A dragon! You encountered a dragon in your search for the cornerstones. DoHeney tried to bargain with it, if I recall that part of the tale correctly.”

  “Yes,” Lynthalsea said. “When it took us to Zellohar. I was unconscious the whole time, thank the gods.”

  “And you, Avari! You stood up to it—“

  “And nearly got cut in half!”

  “But you did, and dragons respect courage and strength.” He was warming to the idea now.

  “DoHeney said that the dragon felt betrayed by Darkmist,” Yenjil reminded, “and Feldspar and I saw it seek revenge by destroying Darkmist’s army. Which, by the way, saved my own troops, Eloss be praised.”

  “So,” Shay said, picking up on the thread that they were weaving into a plan, “it might be willing to extend that revenge to Darkmist’s sisters! If the Dark God worshipers’ plan succeeds, it won’t spare the dragons; they will all die, too. And the dragons in the scrying were attacking the fortress shield, so it seems that Draco does not appreciate their intrusion into his realm. Yes, this could work!”

  Voncellia looked around with a daze expression. “I cannot believe you are suggesting that we ask a dragon for a favor.”

  “Let’s do it!” Avari said as she stood up and grabbed Gaulengil and her pack, her enthusiasm restored.

  Shay surprised Brok with his look of considered regard and his words. “Thank Brok here for the suggestion." He nodded to Feldspar and Voncellia. "If it doesn't get us roasted, it may help us deal with all three of his points: staying aloft, breaking into the shield, and getting permission to enter Pytt.

  “We need to speak with Phlegothax.”

  CHAPTER 25

  DoHeney stifled a yawn; he had been up all night answering questions from his commanders, and consulting with DoHurley, Irielnea and UrMae. The few times he chanced to lay down for a nap, the nervous buzz in his mind had prevented sleep. But now, as he inspected the troops arrayed before him, his fatigue fled in the face of his pride at the phenomenal progress they had made in just one night.

  The dwarven troops—near seven hundred of them—stood stiffly at attention. Dark cloaks covered their polished armor, their weapons were darkened with soot, and all wore high, soft boots. They weren't just ready, they were ready his way!

  Tucked within the safety of each of the dwarven companies were the wizards from Refuge. They had readily admitted that, due to their sedentary lifestyles, most were in no shape to keep up with the hardy dwarves on the march. Therefore, they had devised a scheme to maximize their effectiveness and minimize their hindrance. Using a simple spell designed to carry baggage, they would levitate cloaks, and half of the wizards would sit upon them to rest, sleep, or study. Their compatriots would tow the floating cloaks behind them. Prael had assured him that it would more than double their speed while using only about a tenth of their magical power. Each pair of wizards was assigned a Refuge priest or priestess, while the dwarven clerics were scattered among the column.

  "A right smart-lookin' outfit ye got there," DoHurley complimented.

  “Ain’t it now!” DoHeney beamed, nodding thanks to the five scarred old warriors who, along with Prael to consult on ar
cane matters, comprised his command staff. "They've done wonders in only a night's time. We’re jist about ready ta set off."

  “I wish I was comin’ with ye—“

  “Ye know someone’s gotta stay at Zellohar,” DoHeney said. “Who else’s gonna keep all them secrets known only to the king?” He winked as DoHurley’s frown quirked into a smile.

  “Good luck, and may Tem bless you and your task,” said Irielnea. DoHeney thanked The Delver he had been able to persuade her to stay with DoHurley to organize those remaining at Zellohar. Shay and Lynthalsea would never forgive him if he got their mother killed in an assault on the city of the Dark Gods.

  "Let’s git this show on the road!" UrMae shouted as she bustled up and clapped her hands on DoHeney’s and DoHurley’s shoulders, nearly knocking their heads together with the force of her affection. "Cheer up, laddies! We're gonna spill some dark-worshiper blood!"

  UrMae’s breastplate was impressively molded to shield her stout torso, and chainmail hung to her elbows and knees. A spiked mace and a hammer swung at her hips, and talismans, holy symbols and lucky crystals draped about her waist. Loops of her braided grey locks dangled from under her horned helm.

  DoHeney sighed; this was another argument he hadn’t looked forward to.

  "UrMae, ye can't—"

  "Be stopped from goin' on this trip. Aye, yer jist right, laddie." She hitched up her weapons and chucked him on the shoulder with numbing force. "Now let's git on our way. We got a lot o' leagues ta cover, ye know!"