Rathilda paused just inside to see that her warriors made it back to safety. With the slight tip of the hat she did not wear, the Queen of the Rats raced off. The first intersection was conquered, but two more lay ahead.
Rathilda’s pulse pounded, the narrow escape further heightening her senses. Not only did she have the cats to evade, there was another issue with which she had to contend as the farther down the mountain she traveled, the warmer it got. In the best of circumstances, the ice would be quite a bit smaller by the time she reached the One. All delays would only further whittle away the prize. What was the point of running the gamut if only to arrive with nothing more than the tale of chase and a story of a prize? There was no time to dally. Dallying got rats caught. Dallying got rats killed.
The second intersection rushed toward her, the next hurdle of her journey awaited. Rathilda hoped to blow through it before the cats noticed her presence. The cat guarding the opening, tipped off by his sources, knew his prey was coming. It waited patiently, staring into the dark hole from his perch. The veteran hunter attained twice again the rat kills any other cat could boast. Sensing the arrival of his worthy yet despised foe, it jumped ahead of Rathilda. Having cut off the path of the great Rat Queen, it stood defiantly still before her. A younger rat, a brave young soul, emerged from the tunnel and charged the cat. The young soldier stayed in the backdrop of the Queen, concealing his arrival for as long as possible. His own peril meaningless, overshadowed by the needs of the Queen he pledged to serve.
Rathilda dashed ahead again, hoping to slip past the enemy. The cat swerved at the varmint, trying to catch the Queen. Only then did he notice the younger rat, who engaged the cat in a furiously vicious fight. The cat caught the younger and far more inexperienced rat by the neck, his wrath rewarded. The cat’s wizened fangs digging deep into the delicate throat of the victim. The taste of blood driving it into a frenzy as he took to moment to drink deeply.
Rathilda sprinted safely past the murderous scene, barely noticing the loss of the brave young rat. Sacrifices were made in war. All knew their mission and would do his or her part to win the day. Loss of life was an unfortunate occurrence in war and this war had already spent countless days. Time was intolerant of the slightest moment of grief. Perhaps the younger rat hadn’t paid attention during training, or spent enough time studying his enemy? Either way, the responsibility for the death, as always, lay squarely on the victim’s shoulders.
The Queen was tiring and slowing. Rathilda struggled for every breath with the ice lodged in her mouth. She feared breathing her ever-hotter breath, not wanting to melt the ice. She would arrive shortly at the One’s chamber, she could hold on a little longer.
Rathilda rushed upon the last intersection. One of her fellow rats stopped her there, quickly informing Rathilda of the cat’s whereabouts ahead. The rat put on a harness with a large pin protruding from it. It was the closest thing they had to a harpoon. Rathilda dashed out, charging hard for the safety of the next hole. From there it would only be short walk to the holding room of the One and the delivery of the prize. But first, Rathilda needed to matriculate across the last open expanse.
A cat, larger than any she had ever seen, strolled confidently and calmly to the hole. The cat looked more like a large dog. It sat on his haunches, sitting twice the height of the Queen. Rathilda stopped short, her mighty legs searching quickly and awkwardly for the traction in the smoothed stone floor that would slow her in time. The Queen finally stopped, her girth whipping her sideways and she stood still, huffing, measuring her gargantuan foe.
Rathilda then also stood high on her haunches, staring unflinchingly at the cat. Her enemy had thoughts of grandeur, for it would deliver the great Rathilda to his master. Rathilda risked a smile at the cat, infuriating the fattened beast. The cat sprang at the rat, fangs open and leading with his deadly claws. It would be a quick battle with victory certain.
Rathilda held strong. At the last moment, she bent down, hugging the cold rock floor. Her move revealed the hidden advance of her trusted soldier rat who quickly approached from behind. The rat used Rathilda as a ratapult, launching himself into the surprised and unprotected cat. It was the cat who could not stop his goggling girth, which was difficult to get moving and almost impossible to stop quickly. The fiend screeched as the pin penetrated deeply, skewering the cat. The rat’s power shoved the cat back, pinning it into the wall with a bloody boing sound. Rathilda sprinted to the hole as the other rat dropped from the skewered cat to the ground just as the Queen escaped below him. It proudly pranced back to safety. Rathilda was terribly mean, but even more than that; she was quick to reward the worthy. The payment for this success would be great.
Rathilda hauled the ice, little more than half of what she started with, through the wall and into the locked-up chamber. She walked slowly up to the One, delivering her package. She always felt the twinge of pity and sorrow for the One when she saw her, and today those feelings were even greater. The One eagerly accepted the small gift from her familiar friend, as great was her thirst. While it was large to the rats, the ice was even smaller than her small palm. She eagerly slurped the water as it melted from the ice and thanked the rat by stroking it with her other hand. The only desired payment already given to Rathilda.
Events like this played out many times a day, many days on end. The rat army did all it could to save the One, who had asked them to do so when no others could. This is what saved Milan, Mother of Prince Jedrek, wife to King Tegan, Queen of Lemuria. It is what allowed her to fight off the unceasing attacks by Herrog in his dungeon in the ice world of Calonia and what stopped him from taking the jewel he desperately coveted.
Due to its power (and the food and water from the rats), her strength maintained, even in captivity. She knew Tegan finally knew where she was, and more importantly, that he was coming for her.
Chapter 1: The Foreign Land
The freezing wind sliced through the thick bear hide parka Skyler draped across his numbing shoulders. Despite his valiant effort to shield himself from the hostile wind, he was defenseless against its relentless assault. The snow was approaching waist deep on the tallest of them. With every difficult step, the snow piled even higher. His determination to slog on was unyielding, but his companion’s constant irritable complaining greatly tested him.
“How much longer?” Shalkar whined. His legs, even on the already made path, were barely able to move as he waded through the snow before him. He was the shortest of the group, making the journey extremely difficult.
Though the same fatigue threatened to consume Skyler’s own stout spirit, he dared not quit. “Keep going! If we stop here we’re gonna freeze to death!” Skyler barked. He then turned to look at his followers, some of which were barely visible even though they were just a few feet behind him in the white out blizzard. He reluctantly conceded to what he still considered a feeble request, “Look for cover, we need to at least get out of this wind.”
“Look for cover?” Meril smirked, “I can’t see Taylor and he is right in front of me! We aren’t going to be able to find any cover!” Meril’s internal fortitude was the least developed of his friends. Just as water will always seek the lowest point, negative thoughts knew they had a welcome home within Meril during tough times.
“I’m behind you, goblin brain!” Taylor chortled, half coughing in the middle. His throat had been sore for several days, adding to his already mounting irritability. “He is right though Skyler. We aren’t going to be able to find anything in the storm. There aren’t even trees here to take cover in.”
“It’s no use fellas, we are done. We have seen our last sunrise, and never again will we say goodbye to our mamas,” Balthar wailed, weeping as he gave in dramatically. Meril’s thoughts gave him and the others permission to quit, he collapsed right then and there. He had a knack to making things seem worse than they were, but this time he seemed on point.
“We will not quit!” Skyler defied both the storm and his friends. �
�We are on an important mission for the King. Failure is not an option! Good things happen for those who are looking for them.” As Skyler said his last words, the wind died for a moment. Suddenly, astoundingly, before them the dying snow fall revealed an opening to a cave. The sight, appearing before them as if it were a mirage in the desert, stunned the other young dwarves. Their hearts began to jump with joy, as though Skyler performed a miracle before their very eyes.
The snow was an unwilling foe as it fought their weary legs to the end, battling them on every step of the way as they waded to the cave. The five dwarves pushed hard for the opening, with Taylor taking the lead. After reaching the cave, Meril quickly set to making a fire. Balthar tore apart several small dead branches, more bush than tree, which clung tightly to the rocks at the edge of the cave. The others quietly searched for signs of the enemy, more interested in food and fire in their weary state. The dwarf soldiers were shivering and hoping Meril could work quickly. Each doubted their own fingers could work any faster. More than anything, they were happy to be out of the snow.
Meril was quick and driven but his numb fingers and small tools made his work far more difficult. He was finally able to fly several determined sparks to light his kindle, with one fated flash igniting the small pieces of wood and dry grass. He succeeded, and soon the fire leapt up before them. They were able to warm themselves at last, with their frozen courage thawing also. They found a dead cedar tree just outside the opening and broke it down. The sap inside caused the fire to quickly roar and snap as the dry wood burned and warmed the cave.
“You are slowing at your skill Meril. My sister can get a fire going faster than that,” Balthar chided, usually not one for joking.
“Sister? I was certain anything that ugly was a dog!” Meril shot back sharply. A self-professed expert on verbal sparring, Meril delighted in his barb.
Balthar had no reply and the laughter of the others stewed his temper. He rose to deal with Meril in a more physical way. Skyler, as usual, stepped in, “For once can you all remember why we are here? This is not some camping trip we are on, this is a mission ordered by the King. We are trying to find the stronghold of the North and the hiding place of the sorcerer Herrog!” The others were well aware of what they were doing and who sent them there. The sparkle of the special missions was wearing thin though, as they spent much of the past five years on such assignments.
“Yes, we know,” Shalkar snapped, “but we are always on a trip for the King to find this stronghold and we have yet to find anything. How much of our lives are we to waste looking for this place? It has been five years since the last battle and we have seen or heard nothing. They are probably dead and gone!”
Skyler stepped back from Balthar and Meril, Shalkar’s words like a surprise punch to his stomach. He looked into the eyes of his friends, measuring each of them. He knew they were all thinking what Shalkar dared to say. Indeed, they had been on many errands since the battle at the Demon’s Chamber where Milan and Herrog were lost, as was their dear friend Quigle.
“Yes, we have searched long and found little. Yes, the King has sent us time and time again. Despite our constant failings to find what our King is sure to exist, he continues to trust us and send us out again,” Skyler paused to let his words settle in on his friends and then continued. “To be fair, I too have at times questioned our errands and routes we have searched, and I too have wondered about many things that have happened, particularly why our friend Quigle had to be lost. I try to make sense of that and cannot. All I have discovered is that I do not get to know these answers and maybe I never will. I know I trust King Tegan and his intentions. I will do what he asks, when he asks it, until I am no longer able. So that is what I intend to do. Now I ask you, what do you intend to do?” His challenge was stout, and for the first time he was unsure of what the answer from his friends would be. They also suffered through the loss of Quigle and questioned the need for it.
“I will follow, as I always have,” Balthar started, ashamed for his role. “I am sorry for my doubts.”
One by one, the others joined in and reaffirmed their allegiance to Skyler. The last of which was Meril. “I am in, as I always have been. But we need to find something this time and not turn back until we do.” The others were in complete agreement.
“Then let’s eat what we can spare for now, we could still be up here many days. I ask that you also remember that we are soldiers, which means we take orders. We don’t make them.” Skyler heard no further questioning that evening, with the talk reverting back to the usual ribbing between his friends. It was a good sound to fall asleep to.
Skyler woke with a start, but it was far too late. Someone bound his hands and feet tightly and he could not move. A cloth gagged his mouth, with another covering his eyes. He nudged the cloth wrapped around his eyes up, so he could at least see out of one eye. Skyler frantically looked around, concerned for his friends. The sight before him was like a dream, a bad one.
Ten scurrying little people, of the kind he had never encountered before, were dashing from dwarf to dwarf. Dwarves tend to be on the shorter side, but these men, or perhaps boys, were little more than half the stature of his young dwarves. They were moving quickly to get his friends out of the cave. He tried a muffled scream in protest, but it was useless. One of the little persons, covered by their thick coats, skirted across the floor to Skyler. The little person bent low over him, upside down in Skyler’s view. The odd little fellow looking him closely in his open eye. Skyler easily sensed his fear. In a hushed but urgent voice, he whispered, “If you wish to live, and I do, I really do, please keep quiet! Why you silly oafs decided to sleep in a cave where the great sloths of the north hibernate I will never know. They are stirring now and will wake any moment. Should we be here for that, we will all be eaten!” Skyler, for the first time, could tell it was a man. His beard dropped onto Skyler’s forehead. Sheer terror filled the little man’s face and Skyler believed every word he muttered.
The worry in the voice raised Skyler’s own anxiety. Then, a nightmarish deep rumble filled and shook the cave, working its way from the back to the front. A shock of dread kicked the little people into a faster gear. Another little man was soon pulling with the first, as together he hauled Skyler to a sled. His friends were all gone but Skyler did not know where. As they rolled him onto the sled, Skyler faced backward and saw something moving in the deep darkness of the cavern. Then he saw the darkness wearily blink as two large eyes began their waking. The tired blink then sharpened to a focused squint as the waking eye pinpointed on the movement in front of it. The rudely awakened eyes from their long winter slumber seemed quite unhappy.
“Pull faster!” The voice of the first little man hysterically urged the second. His fear was dripping faster than the sweat from his brow as he desperately pulled at the stubborn loaded down sled. It bogged down in the deep snow that covered the entrance to the cave. The two little men struggled to get it moving.
“These dwarves are too fat! We saved the others. If only one gets eaten that’s not too bad, is it?” the second little man considered.
“Shut up and pull!” his friend argued back. Skyler was pleased the first wasn’t going to leave him there to be devoured by the unimaginable mouth below those angry eyes. Skyler looked back again to see the eyes rising toward the top of the cave. Whatever it was had started to stand, and it was huge. He could not believe they hadn’t noticed it the night before, but the cold weakened their intent and the dwarves only looked for footprints on the ground. Their laziness might cost Skyler his life.
Then the eyes started rising up and down and the beast lumbered closer, and in an instant, the light at the front of the cave revealed the monster newly awakened. A large sloth of the north, covered in thick grey and white hair, was coming for him. It was almost like a Tolltier, only twice as large and usually half as angry. Unless, like today, they were startled awake early from their winter hibernation.
“No, no, no,” the second mum
bled nervously as the two scurried to the back of the sled and began pushing Skyler again with all their might. The sloth was closing in on a mid-winter snack, picking up speed with every step. The little men’s small feet were sliding in the deep snow but finally found the traction they so needed. The sled moved quickly toward the edge where it could slide on its own downhill. The cool air was welcome to Skyler, but the sloth reaching for the little men let Skyler know they still might not make it.
The sloth’s gigantic arm tried to grab his prey before they escaped. Skyler was able to work the wrap from his mouth and screamed to his two saviors, “Jump!”
The two little men heard the warning of the hand coming for them and just as it tried to grab the first one, he jumped. The hand missed its target but continued for the one next to it. As the first little man landed the second jumped too as the hand just missed, closing emptily on the air underneath him. They finally crossed the opening of the cave as the second one came back down, only to land on top of the closed hand of the sloth. In terror, he shoved with all his might on the sled and against the thumb knuckle of the giant hand. His powerful shove launched the sled out of the cave and into the bright crisp morning, the wind grabbing the loosened snow, whirling it into the air again. The sloth’s angry roar further jolted the intruders from his cave, each covering their ears at the terrible sound.
The sled shot down the hill on the now smooth path their friends made earlier. The two men held on for their lives, as the sled took off. They slowly pulled themselves onto the sled as it rushed down the mountain, leaving the hungry and angered sloth far behind.
Skyler took in the surroundings with his open eye, able to see much better in the day. The storm had ceased, with only sparse remnants of it still fluttering in the daylight wind. In no time, the two little men climbed on top of Skyler, riding him down the mountain as if he was their saddle. Their combined weight was not much, but one of them was using Skyler’s chin as a foot rest, which was uncomfortable to say the least. The foot did not allow for a protest, holding his lower jaw tight against the top.
The Three Charms Page 2
