The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  “Gulac, have you been here?” Tegan asked, pointing the mountains of Calonia. He felt bad for the directness, but he needed to know before Gulac was gone again.

  Gulac did not say a word but grudgingly nodded his head in agreement, his eyes darting to and fro over the withered maps. It was a fearful acknowledgement of the darkest dream imaginable, one he spent years blocking out. Though it pained him deeply, he could not step away from the maps.

  Tegan grew excited, even as he pitied his uncle. “Can you point to where Herrog’s hold is?” He feared both going too far with his mentally maimed uncle and not probing enough to find the answers he needed.

  Gulac stared intently at the map, searching hard to answer Tegan’s questions. He wiped tears away before they could reach his cheeks. The dim light casting a sinister glow around the room. It was as if the shadows themselves were dancing about them, trying to see and hear the thoughts in Gulac’s mind. In a far away and muffled voice, Gulac mumbled, “I cannot tell from the map. I was there… I remember the search, the cold.” He covered himself as if a cold breeze had caught him, but the room was quite warm. Then he smiled quickly, “And the little people, I remember the little people, the elves! There were paths that wound through the mountains. They led to…” Gulac stopped speaking, his smile gone as he continued to strain at the map.

  Tegan could not help but notice the worn look on Gulac’s face. He decided the old dwarf had endured enough for the evening. He walked Gulac through the empty halls, each speaking no words to the other. He then led him to his bed and tucked the old dwarf in. He then rose to leave but Gulac’s frail hand stayed him.

  “What is it?” Tegan whispered, sitting back down. He set the candle next to Gulac’s bed, the light showing on the old man’s face once more. His eyes no longer able to dam the pool of tears as it had before. They ran uncontrollably down his face and into his mostly white beard. He spoke in a raspy voice, weak with sadness.

  “I cannot give you what you wish. I want to tell you how to go but I can’t see it from the map. I have failed you and my brother.” Try as he might, Gulac could not remember how to get there, the years of torture in the dungeons of Herrog had won.

  “You have failed no one,” Tegan comforted. He understood in unimaginable horrors survived by Gulac during his imprisonment. Who knows what secrets he held tight, or perhaps let slip in the torture he endured. The many visible scars he bore were most likely were but a tip of the total he suffered.

  “Do you know why I went?” the old man asked, hoping Tegan would open the door.

  “You were sent there by my father on a mission, that is all I know,” Tegan answered, wondering where this would lead.

  “’Tis not true! I went there on my own free will. I ran from here. I ran from the woman I loved who would never return my gift. She loved another and scorned my attempts to win her.” The effort strained Gulac, as if he was pulling a lodged splinter from his hand. His long-held secrets gushing forth.

  Tegan only listened, not wanting to interrupt him. “I favored Deyanira. She was so beautiful, both inside and out. I know what she became over the years, but that was after the evil took her. She became greedy and power struck and set her eyes on my brother. I could not stand in her path and left at her request. Even after your own mother passed, she knew Moro would never consider her, unless I was gone. It was the second and last gift I gave her.”

  Gulac grew silent, his eyes closed. He had one last pain to rid himself completely of the splinter but was scared to pull it out of his soul. Tegan could not resist and asked the last of the pained man.

  “What was the first?” Tegan would not expect the answer.

  “Our son.” Gulac said, ridding himself of the secret that both poisoned him and kept him alive these many years. Those two words hung in Tegan’s ears, the sound of them would not die, as they continued to echo within his body. They explained so much to Tegan, particularly his father and Deyanira’s actions. They also brought more questions. Did Moro know Telon was not his son? More importantly, the thought rose again of Deyanira’s role in the death of Sera, Tegan’s mother. The answers to these questions and the exact location of the Herrog’s hideout lay in one person, the old beaten man lying before him.

  “Rest, Gulac, we will talk more another time. Sleep in peace. You have earned it.” Tegan sat with Gulac quietly until the old dwarf fell asleep. Then he left him to his dreams and went slowly back to his room. Tegan’s thoughts went back to when he was a child, of him and Telon roaming the halls creating mischief day after day. He thought of Deyanira and his father. So many things made sense, yet many still remained unanswered. His first night without the stone also proved restless, but for far different reasons.

  The next morning came quick. Tegan rose from his bed and found Lizzy already had taken Jedrek to breakfast. Tegan hurriedly dressed. Despite his limited sleep, he felt refreshed. He set up a meeting for the same group that had met the day before. So much had occurred since they left, so much learned and so many more questions. He would not betray the trust Gulac rested in him. Telon would need to wait until the time was right to learn of his true father’s identity. The burden of that secret was Tegan’s to bear.

  After a quick meal, Tegan went to the meeting room to find everyone present, plus one. Much to Tegan’s surprise, Gulac also was in the room, again pouring over the maps, as if he was the only one there. Out of politeness for his past, no one had bothered to ask him to leave.

  “Did you bring him?” Tegan asked Telon.

  “No, he was here before I arrived, and I was the first. Should I have him leave?” Telon asked.

  “No, he is harmless,” Tegan answered.

  Tegan walked up to Gulac, placing his hand on the man’s arm, just as he had done the night before. Gulac looked at him again, but this time Tegan sensed more focus and urgency in Gulac’s sharpened eyes. He had not wandered aimlessly to the maps this day. He came into the chamber on a mission.

  Tegan pulled up a stool for Gulac, who sat down, but did not stop analyzing the maps. Tegan began, “I want to again thank you for attending. I am aware some of you plan to depart at the end of this meeting. I, nor any of my people, will carry ill will toward you should you depart and not support this mission. But before you go, I think it important that you know what I learned in the late hours of last evening.”

  The focus of the group was tight. While Gulac heard Tegan’s words, he paid them little heed. He remembered telling Tegan that Telon was his son but not why he left.

  Tegan went on, “As you know, many years ago Gulac traveled from Tunder Bin, accepting a dangerous mission from the King. He was to search the far reaches of the north for the whereabouts of Herrog, a previous wizard to King Goran. He was successful in finding it, but in doing so was caught and imprisoned by Herrog in Calonia. Years later he was transferred to the Demon’s Chamber.”

  The group began to murmur, for many did not believe Tegan’s story.

  “His eventual saving by Telon, during the last war, ended over twenty-five years of captivity and torture. It has left his memory diminished, but not gone.”

  All eyes pitied Gulac, who was unaware of the attention. His entire focus centered on the maps.

  “I believe Gulac can lead us there.” At his last words, all eyes shifted to Tegan, questioning his thoughts.

  A buzz rose over the crowd, with Telon the first to object. “Tegan, I want to go save Milan as much as anyone. But we cannot expect Gulac, who has already given all that could be asked to the people of Tunder Bin, to survive a trip such as this. He deserves to live out the rest of his years here, not have it ended on a brutal trip to the icy north.” Telon hated questioning Tegan, especially in front of those present but felt he had no choice.

  “If this is a ploy to convince those of us wavering to join, know that sending a senile old man out to lead us to the wizard’s stronghold is not nearly enough to sway my decision,” Darrow stated, questioning the move.

  Tegan, u
nlike the day before when under the wicked spell, no longer needed the approval of all. “If you choose to join me or not, it is of little concern to me. The time is now to go for Milan. I will go alone if no one will aid me.”

  “As I said yesterday, you will not go alone,” Kyrie stated, supporting his friend again.

  “No, you will not!” Dorir said, stepping forth, as did Fiji and Arlow. The rest, as they had the day before, stood down.

  “For those of you departing for good, I wish you good travels and ask your aid in helping our cities while we are gone. I pray it will not be long,” Tegan asked.

  Darrow came forth to Tegan as a commotion overtook the room, accepting his hand, “That I can promise you, to the best of our ability. Should you find her and call, we will descend on the enemy with a vengeance never seen in Lemuria.” Tegan accepted his hand but thought the jester somewhat empty. Deeds would need to back the words to build the trust again. Tegan nodded and allowed Darrow and the others to leave.

  “Arlow, please send Bryon here to meet with Gulac. Telon, send for Skyler and his men to come too. We need them to work with Gulac to try and find the exact location of the castle. Perhaps we can find it and spare Gulac this taxing trip.” As Tegan put forth his orders, the leaders who were following Tegan sent messages with their own people to ready. The others rose to leave, as they wanted no part of the mission.

  The boys, Bryon and Gulac continued to spend hours looking over the maps. They tried to help Gulac remember where he was and how he reached Herrog’s fortress. At many times Gulac would recall a memory, and sometimes it would help, but often, it would only cause him pain as the others discounted his dream. The boys were of little help, for they only had seen the land covered in the blanket of winter. Gulac seemed to know what he wanted to describe, but torture stained his memory, as did the aching passage of time. It was well into the evening when they broke for dinner. Gulac seemed little worse for the wear and perhaps even excited and livelier than he had been since he first arrived back to Tunder Bin.

  Tegan and Telon pulled Bryon aside while the others ate their meal. “How is Gulac holding up?” Tegan asked.

  “Surprisingly well and better as we went on. I think he is beginning to block the bad out, even while allowing the needed information in. I don’t think we will find the fortress using the maps alone, but I feel that he could lead us there. That is, if he could last the trip,” Bryon replied.

  The brothers let the hungry soldier eat and continued their talk. Telon was not in favor of Gulac going. “He can’t last Tegan. We can’t ask him to go,” Telon tried to convince his brother.

  “Maybe, maybe not. Is it our decision?” Tegan asked back.

  “It is our job to look out for the young and old of our people. Gulac is too old to make the right decision for himself. He can’t understand what we know to be before him on this mission.” Telon took the role of caretaker for Gulac since he first found the old dwarf. He would not abandon the old Gulac at his greatest time of need. Of course, he never considered Gulac to need protection from Tegan.

  “Would you want someone to make that decision for you? To tell you when it was time for you to stop traveling, to stop fighting our enemy and evil beasts? I have a hard time imagining someone limiting you to safe walks through the upper halls, especially when the need of the city was dire,” Tegan challenged Telon. Telon was angered but he tried to consider his brother’s view. He had to agree, the day Tegan was discussing would not sit well with Telon.

  Tegan then relented somewhat, “I know he is weak and perhaps he should not or will not go. But I am not so arrogant to think I should be the one to decide that for him, or anyone for that matter. We train our soldiers to be ready to lay down their lives for our people. We teach that the benefit of the many comes before the benefit of the one. One day, are even we going to be told our sacrifices aren’t needed or wanted?”

  Telon thought about Tegan’s words. He only wanted to spare Gulac the trials of the journey, but perhaps that is not what Gulac wanted. As he ate his meal and watched Gulac engage with the boys and Bryon over the map, for the first time he did not see a prisoner too weak to contribute. He saw a man of Tunder Bin, a man ready to do his part for the cause. The mission at hand had drawn the real Gulac from his hiding spot and enabled him to engage in a meaningful way in his own life.

  After dinner, Tegan dismissed Bryon and the boys as he and Telon took Gulac back to map room. They assisted him on the long walk, one on each side.

  “I wish I could remember where the castle is. My memory takes me to what I saw, but not what I see here,” Gulac explained as he again looked over the maps carefully. His frustration built with every passing moment. He felt the need to justify his failure, but it was not so, at least not from the brother’s stance.

  “Can you tell us how to get there?” Tegan asked Gulac, shooting a look at Telon.

  Gulac thought hard but gave in, “Close perhaps but no, I cannot get you to the gate. Things seem to have changed, or my memory is broken. The latter seems the most likely. I am sorry.” More than anything, he wished to be able to give Tegan what he wanted. Gulac could feel the disappointment from the King.

  “Could you guide us there, if you were with us?” Tegan questioned again, holding nothing back. Telon grimaced at the bold request but anxiously waited for the response. He thought Tegan was asking the impossible.

  “If I was there?” a surprised Gulac asked. The thoughts of the harsh trip seemed far too difficult. He barely walked without assistance during the day in the safe and warm Tunder Bin, but somehow Tegan thought he could march all the way to Calonia?

  “Well, I suppose I could, if I was there. But Tegan, I cannot get there, I would not survive that trip. I’m sorry but I am too old for this, too withered.” Gulac felt pity for what Tegan lost. He wanted to help Tegan, but he also felt the trip would be too much. He wished he were younger, that he was still a mighty warrior like before Herrog imprisoned him. He would boldly be leading this mission, not squandering on the side.

  “We understand,” Telon consoled, ready to move on. Tegan was not so prepared to concede, so great was his desire.

  “You would travel in a covered wagon and have to walk little, if any at all,” Tegan added, stating all the comforts he would afford his uncle. “You would not want for food, drink, or heat.”

  Telon had enough of his brother’s badgering of the old dwarf, who clearly could not endure the mission. “Tegan, he said he can’t do it! The man is too old and would certainly die on the trip, and probably long before reaching the end!” Telon blasted Tegan for pushing Gulac so hard. He thought it unfair to play on an old man’s desires, pushing him so fervently to go. He especially did not like overstating the ease of the trip, which would soon grow rugged and leave Gulac to suffer the venture the same as those twice his younger.

  The two argued back and forth, as though Gulac was not present. They treated Gulac as a small child that needed tending, not an elder dwarf that deserved respect. The old dwarf knew he could aid the mission but feared dying on the trail. However, he also feared dying in the mountain. Gulac could not have his only son thinking he was too feeble to do anything. The sound of the word burned in his mind. His determination and excitement for the adventure mounted with every passing moment. His hand longed for a sword, his body for the armor that signaled his allegiance to King and land.

  “Hold on!” Gulac announced, his words stern and solid. Both brothers picked up the stronger tone to his voice. He raised a halting hand to each of the combatants as he stood between them, bringing the commotion to a stop. The two brothers ceased arguing and looked to Gulac, who looked as a father about to scold his two children.

  He then began, “I was once a warrior of Tunder Bin when I was your age, along with your father. I did much for the city and its people and was highly thought of, no different than you are now. Though I am much older, I will not accept waiting around the city for death’s slow advance. I certainly will n
ot allow myself to pass with the two of you bickering before me as though I was blubbering child who needed your tending.” The two brothers felt embarrassed for how they talked before him and listened intently to the dwarf’s admonishing words.

  “I wasted the best years of my life in the enemy’s dungeons. I will not endure another imprisonment, especially one that is self-imposed. I am going with you.” The resoluteness of Gulac’s tone was unmistakable. The determination obvious.

  Tegan was ecstatic. Not only was he soon to go on a mission to find his wife and save her, he had the guide he needed to get him there. Telon was less certain, but with every passing moment Gulac’s demeanor improved. For the first time, he displayed his true personality. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Telon was drawn to the rejuvenated man he saved from slavery and death just a few years before.

  Chapter 6: A Well-Laid Trap

  Erol waited patiently within the trees, hiding as best he could in the thin foliage. Patience was difficult in the best of times for ogres. This late afternoon was far from the best of times.

  After the great battle at the Demon’s Chamber, several small groups of goblins who escaped became nomadic raiding parties. They randomly attacked travelers and homesteads throughout the more sparsely populated regions of Lemuria. Whenever the whereabouts of one of these groups reached Tegan’s ears, he sent Erol to clean it up. Where Erol went, Gile was sure to follow.

  The pair, ever interested in helping the dwarves, became the official errand runners for the King. Wherever Tegan needed them to go and whenever he asked, they went. Always together, they reinforced the interests of the King. The latest errand was to pursue and eliminate a marauding pack of goblins, a particularly nasty bunch at that. This group evaded Erol and Gile, by the slimmest of margins, for weeks. Erol’s frustration boiled and he had had enough. This day, if he had anything to say about it, the end of the chase would come.