The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  “Surround ‘im! Wee’z takin’ ‘im ta H’rog!” he ordered his men. Quelna allowed the troop of trolls to take him into the fortress. He struggled to keep up with the fast-moving trolls, as their huge steps were twice the stride of his. He hobbled as quickly as he could, his staff clicking on the stones with each step. Despite the winter winds, Quelna was sweating and breathing heavy. Whether the sweat was due to the work or what he was about to attempt, he did not know.

  As they crossed the moat, the dull knock of his staff thudding on the thick oak beams of the drawbridge echoed in the small covered area. He thought about how the castle could have easily been a castle the dwarves built. Perhaps in ancient times their ancestors built it. So meticulous where the stones laid, so straight the lines. The haphazard goblins did not build it. His thoughts went back to Herrog. He hoped he was right about the wizard and that it was possible he could yet win the day.

  Immediately upon walking under the rampart, the troll turned back to him. “Halt!” he again ordered, clutching his throat defensively. The reaction drew a smile from Quelna and the troll quickly marched off to find his master. There was a large cage off to the right that held the wildest of the Tolltier, the ones even the trolls feared. The cage was made of thick metal bars and it had the same bars on the roof also, preventing them from flying away. Trolls guarded it and they tortured the Tolltier by sticking them with sharp spears to keep their temper raged. The trolls carried a well-earned fear of the Tolltier.

  The main structure of the castle rose from there. A large rock main building stood before him and from there, several tall towers looked over the land. Of the towers, there were three that rose above all and those were the only ones seen from outside the walls. They spiraled into the sky, showing the greatness of the builders. Quelna grew ever more nervous as he waited, thinking perhaps he had made a mistake but there was no going back.

  The large wooden doors opened to the castle, revealing the darkness from within. Out of the shadows strode Herrog, confidently marching out to see his old protégé.

  “Quelna! I knew you were close to the battle outside. Your magic saved your friends several times over, most of them anyway.” He said partly in irritation and partly out of admiration.

  “Why didn’t you pursue them?” Quelna questioned, trying to build conversation before the bartering session.

  “Well, you weren’t with them but seemed to be seeking me. I was curious as to your intentions, so I only killed one of them. They will all die anyway, with the arrow slaying the dwarf soonest. It probably already has.” Herrog had no love of the dwarves, which Quelna understood. “Come, there is plenty for us to discuss. The least of which is why you have brought me the Stone.”

  Herrog’s words about the Stone took Quelna aback. He followed Herrog’s invitation and they began climbing the farthest back tower. If Quelna’s suspicions proved true, that tower would also be the tallest. They stepped into the elevator, very similar to the ones in Tunder Bin. In this fashion, they quickly rose to the top of the tower.

  “Welcome,” Herrog insisted, as they reached the top and the door opened. Quelna stepped off first and then Herrog. They entered his lair and across the open room rose a large fire. Goblin servants strolled around the room, providing food and drink to Herrog. There was a large table that Herrog sat at and he invited Quelna to join him.

  Herrog smiled at him, “Did you really think I was killed at the Demon’s Chamber?” His voice rolled with arrogance, the sound like that of ten men speaking at once.

  “I did not know for sure, but I am not surprised old friend.” The sinister grin on Herrog’s face made Quelna more than uneasy.

  “Old friend indeed! Give me the Stone,” Herrog said very directly. “It is around your neck.”

  Quelna took the necklace off that held the Stone. The necklace that long ago Herrog gave to Deyanira, Deyanira gave to Telon and eventually Telon to Tegan. In turn, it tore apart each of them, some of them to and past the point of destruction. He slowly placed it on the table but kept his hands protectively over it.

  “I brought it as a token to barter with you. Tegan wishes to destroy it, but I wish to save Lemuria. I will freely give you this and I can convince Tegan to give you the last of the jewels. If I do so, will you not be content and leave the dwarves and Lemuria alone?”

  Herrog allowed a slight laugh and then he grew straight faced again. He leaned in, hovering over the much smaller Quelna, “Who do you think I am?”

  “I know you well Master. You are a wise wizard, one who seeks…” Quelna started his answer but Herrog quickly cut him off. The master wizard commanded the Stone to him, ripping it right out of Quelna’s ancient clutch.

  “You consider us equals, do you? Do you believe you can come and offer me jewels and stones, to bribe me with these trinkets? Is that what you think? As if they were even yours to give.” Herrog removed himself from the table, carefully placing the necklace over his head, resting it against his chest. The power from it breathed into Herrog’s expanding chest. He paced the floor, not allowing Quelna to stand, or even move.

  Herrog continued, “Perhaps you would offer me Calonia? I would not want it. Perhaps the northern half of Lemuria? I would not want it either. My dear Quelna, old and useless, I desire the whole thing. Just as it was planned from the very beginning!” The wizard’s anger grew with each syllable that left his primordial mouth. Quelna began to see the folly of his plan, but as he feared, it was too late.

  “Herrog, I did not mean to offend.” Quelna offered but Herrog emphatically rejected his feeble apology.

  “Little human! Do not address me directly and call me Herrog no more!” A light flashed through Herrog’s eyes and for an instant only, Herrog resembled not a man, but a terrible demon. After that moment, he reverted back.

  “Herrog, ‘er Master,” Quelna stuttered. Tears streamed down his face and he shuddered, unable to control the terror that gripped his soul. “You do not know what that Stone is and will do to you. Please remove it! Keep it if you wish, but do not wear it. It will change you.” He believed the change in Herrog due to the Stone’s power but again, he was mistaken.

  A deeper, more earth-shaking laugh, full of evil, erupted from the man. The sound had not corrupted the land of Lemuria since it first inception. Quelna covered his ears but could not hide from it. Herrog slowly walked over to the side of the room. He looked again at Quelna and opened up a golden case attached to the wall. In it hung an intricate golden necklace. In it lay four places for jewels. He took off the necklace with the Stone of Doom and Ruin and pried the Stone out of its holding place in Deyanira’s ring, dropping the worthless leather necklace and gold band to the floor.

  “When was I born?” Herrog began, continuing to work the golden necklace, placing it on his neck. It hung toward the middle of his chest. “When will I die?” He took the Jewel of Light from his staff and placed it in its holding place on the necklace. He took another look to a terror stricken Quelna, who was only beginning to guess the answers to Herrog’s questions.

  Herrog then looked to two large wooden double doors. He raised his hands and the doors exploded open as his mere thoughts ripped them off their hinges. They flew across the room, narrowly missing Quelna. The ruined doors smashed a goblin in their wreckage, so little was Herrog’s concern for those who served him. Herrog then walked to the opening and inside, Milan sat in her defiant trance. The rats scurried, save one who seemed to stand between her and the wizard. She looked so weak to Quelna, her eyes tearing at the sight before her. It had been so long since Quelna saw Milan. His pity for her could not have been deeper.

  She looked to Herrog, who raised his hand to her. In an instant, her protection was gone, as Herrog willed it to happen. The next moment her part of the Blood Diamond, with the golden band she had wrapped around her hands, jolted to Herrog. The force violently pulled her forward to the gate she was behind, threatening to rip her hands off in the process. She shrieked at the ferocious pull that ea
sily separated her from the one thing that kept her safe for the last few years as she slammed against the unmoving bars. In that moment, her strength was gone and she lay helpless on the cold stone floor, still captured in the cage. Herrog considered her no more as she lay still and unconscious.

  He took the smaller part of the Blood Diamond and placed it in the necklace next to the others. Herrog marveled at his beautiful necklace:

  The Stone on the bottom, dull as could be.

  The Jewel of Light in the middle, shining bright for all to see.

  At the top two places, side by side the Blood Diamond would be.

  He paused only for a second, and then appeared directly before Quelna without walking the floor, still admiring his necklace. His voice grew as if emitting from an accordion, bellowing throughout the castle and valley outside:

  The Creator of the Charms

  Left behind the jewels of Light,

  ‘Er he created them and the lands from fire,

  And until the land cooled, they left his sight.

  The stone of Doom and Ruin,

  He let lay,

  Letting its evil run loose to harm,

  It never rests, not night, not day.

  He will return,

  To his land to reclaim,

  The three charms of his work,

  And in retribution murder and maim.

  Those who defy Him will fall,

  Should the Creator reclaim,

  His charms long lost,

  And the unfortunate possessors slain.

  Should the charms be destroyed,

  And be beautiful no more,

  Their magic will also cease,

  As Lemuria sinks back to the ocean floor.

  When he was finished, Quelna asked him, “So you seek to destroy the Charms and destroy Lemuria too? Do you not fear death?” Sadness filled him, his mission failed. His efforts caused the one thing he most wanted to prevent.

  With his grimacing face, Herrog eyed him again as if he was loathingly studying a mold. Quelna, for the first time, fully realized Herrog was not a man, but the demon who raised Lemuria from the ocean floor. He knew his end was looming. With a moment’s courage, he delivered a last barb, “You seemed to have forgotten one of the phrases of that dreaded poem, the one that speaks of the power in the First Mountain.” With a last bit of magic, Quelna opened the lock on Milan’s door. Though he was well aware, Herrog cared not.

  “I never liked that part. I must say, Master Quelna, I gave you far too much credit.” Herrog leaned in close, willing the spirit of Quelna into him as he spoke, consuming the small wizard, “I was not born! I will not die! I am!” Quelna ceased being in that moment and was vanished. Herrog leaned back, having absorbed every bit of Quelna’s strength, placing the wretched soul of the little wizard in a special place of torture within his own. He was more powerful than he had been since the beginning of Lemuria’s time.

  Herrog appeared at the window of the tower and he was aware of all that was. His drakes were slaughtering the gargoyles and harpies above. The centaurs and men were sneaking, like rats, into his lair. The small Tegan and his fellow companions were coming to challenge him from the front. Even farther off he saw the child Jedrek and his last jewel hanging on the wall of the First Mountain. He would eventually have it also, at all costs. Then he uttered a whisper, which raced throughout the castle. It left the massive stone walls and traveled out in all directions as an especially cold breeze that touched every part of Lemuria. In the end, he intended to destroy it, so that he could perfectly start over again. “I am the Creator!”

  Chapter 28: The Final Assault

  Several thousand staunch dwarves marched hard for the entrance to Herrog’s fortress, leaving just before the evil hour of midnight. It was important that they arrive and be ready to enter the passage under the mountain by daylight if they hoped to time their attack with those of the squadron and cavalry. The farther they could travel unnoticed the better.

  Although the wind carried some pleasant warmth from the south, a bitter breeze quickly countered it that sent chills through them as it blustered from the fortress. It carried a whisper through the forest as it traveled and all strained to look for the source. It caused even the most stouthearted dwarf to stop and shudder. All paused for a second, allowing the evil wind to pass. As soon as it started, the ghostly whisper was gone, with all who could have understood it now departed.

  “What was that?” Telon asked, riding high on Elard as he strained to listen.

  “It was far less menacing than what we are going to face and of no further concern of ours,” Tegan barked and continued on Bramble. He had not the time to notice the details of a breeze and urged his men to march onward.

  The mighty army brushed off the cursed wind and pushed forward toward the entrance. All living creatures still in the forest were deep in hiding, fearful of the events that were about to unfold. The forest sensed the danger that was about to erupt and it hoped to be spared the destruction. None dared to impede the progress of the army that passed quietly in the night.

  Tegan grew uneasy, for despite the hint of the red sun rising in the east, the moon still held its dominion over Lemuria and extended the length of the night. As they approached the last turn before the entrance, he could see the battlefield Cergon and Erol described in the unusually bright night. The stars and partial moon above lit their way and showed shadowy figures on the valley floor. Standing alone in the midst of it, with only a few random buzzards who were feasting on the carcasses of the dead, stood a small animal. Jaric went out to see what it was. He quickly returned, pulling the figure behind.

  “It’s Skyler’s pony,” Jaric said sadly, knowing it marked a certainty that Quelna had turned in for the other side. It pained him to break the news to Tegan.

  The pony pulled on Jaric, trying to get him to go with the small horse. Jaric was too stubborn to allow it to go. Erol scanned the field, looking for Kyrie’s body, but could not find it. “They must have taken Kyrie,” he said to his father, who placed a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. Erol and the gargoyle king had become fast friends and his passing was difficult for Erol to handle.

  The pony’s jittery actions convinced Jaric he needed to follow it. “Take a small torch, follow it!” Tegan ordered, sensing the pony’s intent. Jaric let the pony lead him to the edge of the woods on the hill. Soon they saw a bit of smoke rising from the remanence of the tiniest of fires. It would not have been large when it was started and now was no more than a few smoldering embers. “It’s Kyrie, come quick,” Jaric yelled to Tegan, his urgency to get help overruling his fear of where they were. Tegan rushed to help. He found Kyrie just inside the woods. “Friend, hold on!” Tegan lamented. Kyrie’s wings were detached. His was still alive, lying next to the fire with Quelna’s things beside him. Kyrie was barely breathing and on the edge of consciousness, but he is still alive.

  Tegan worked on his friend, trying his best to save the gargoyle. “Quelna tried to help him, that much is plain to see,” Jaric surmised.

  “Quelna is a traitor to us, which is all that is clear to me,” Tegan uttered in reply. Tegan wrapped his most serious injuries before ordering some of his men to take the gargoyle king back to the elf village for further care. “We cannot heal him, not here. He will certainly have an interesting tale to tell, should any of us live to hear it.”

  “If Quelna has indeed switched his allegiance, then why did he help Kyrie?” Telon posed

  “We do not have time to consider it. Unfortunate for him, but more unfortunate for us,” Tegan replied. Though he also was curious, time did not allow him leniency.

  Tegan rode back to the troops, who Jaric lined up perfectly to enter the cavern and come out the other side as quickly as possible. He told no one of Quelna.

  “Wait here until I signal you,” Tegan, said to Jaric. He then snuck to the end of the tunnel. After reaching the far end, he slowly climbed to the rim of the ravine. At the first sign of attack, he
would begin ordering his troops through. He hoped for Herrog’s forces to turn their focus on the two attacks on either side, which would allow his troops to attack the distracted castle. If all went as planned, Tegan and his select group would push past the guarded drawbridge and into the fortress.

  The defiant walls of the castle filled his vision, with the enemy working the grounds surrounding the hold. The sight of the lowered drawbridge brought him relief. Surprise but relief. The sun was just peeking over the tight rim of the mountains above with a cold shadow still holding strong over the castle. Only for a few moments every day, around midday, did the shadow abate over the castle. Ever so briefly it lasted, before it again began to grow from the other side.

  “Dark things like dark places,” he whispered to Telon, who followed him through to see the castle. The two focused on the drawbridge, which two massive Tolltier guarded, one on each side. Each one wore armor from head to toe and carried large mallets used to crush their foes.

  “We need to get through them?” Telon sighed.

  “We need Erol and Belgin to take them out,” Tegan answered. He looked around, waiting for the sign.

  The valley was the size of large open field and it opened wide between the tunnel from under the mountain and the castle. Loose rock covered the road leading from under the mountain to the drawbridge, running on the right side of the valley from where they stood.

  Across the plain stood rank upon rank of goblin, troll and Tolltier. Herrog’s army far outnumbered theirs, which was not a surprise. The number of winged Tolltier drew Tegan’s attention, as did the number of trolls. The dwarves did not fear goblins, no matter the number that stood against them. They were short, fat and slow. They were also dumb. And above all, horrible shots with their bows. Especially at a long range.

  “At least there aren’t any dragons! Gile will be upset, he will never fit through that hole,” Telon said as they slid back down the bank and hurried back to the entrance. They were unaware that every step they took was marked since they left the elf camp, including the ones they just made. Herrog was aware of their entire plan. He was more than ready for what was to come.