by CP Bialois
Galin flushed from embarrassment, he knew his fear would’ve had him pleading with her to cast a spell to get them free if they were trapped any longer. But he is a Dwarf, and they don’t admit they’re afraid under any circumstances. Besides, he reasoned, it’d ruin the moment and the festive mood they were sharing. So, reassured he was doing so out of a chivalrous nature, he settled on the diamond encrusted scarf.
To answer the strange looks and smiles the others gave him he shrugged, “The diamonds are harder than rock, a Dwarf must respect that.” The others smiled, but none more so than Janessa, who began developing certain feelings for the Dwarf. After their time in the tunnel he seemed more like a father to her than a friend.
Next was Viola; the young mage looked over the pile with a careful eye. She knew what she wanted. She saw it as soon as they entered the chamber. After a moment, she found the item of her desire hidden under a small pile of jewels. She felt a wave of accomplishment sweep over her as she held a tiny crown in her hand. Made of gold with silver lining underneath and various gems imbedded in the precious metal, it seemed to shine with a light all of its own. An intake of breath next to her caught Viola’s attention.
“That’s beautiful! I wish I saw it.” Janessa’s eyes looked as though they wanted to leap from her head at the beauty of the crown.
Viola smiled, resting a hand on her friend’s shoulder. Janessa returned the smile since she took what she wanted, and contrary to popular belief, Halflings never stole from their friends. The rest of the distribution went smoothly as the only items of worth was a hand carved walking stick decorated with gold and a medallion with the healing God of Light’s symbol of two open hands, palms facing out resting on one another. That piece, Gilliam took as it was only fitting a cleric of Fallor should carry it.
Once everything was divided as equally as possible, Viola and Janessa went about the business of finding room for their guests. While the Horse’s Head was comfortable, their room was barely large enough to accommodate the two of them. To fit five would have involved a magical undertaking to say the least. Also, there was old man Winston to consider. Janessa knew from experience he didn’t like having extra guests in the rooms. The problem, as she saw it, was there weren’t any open rooms for them. Unsure of what to do she voiced her concerns to Viola and the others.
When Janessa finished the five of them considered their problem for a few moments. It was well after midnight, so they couldn’t check into another inn since no one was admitted into the city after dark. Besides, the three males were still covered in Ogre blood, albeit it was mostly dry by that point, and wouldn’t be admitted into a tavern, much less any reputable inn.
Galin shrugged and caressed his beard, “Only thing to do is stay in my tent.”
Berek and Gilliam looked at him as though he sprouted a second head and began breathing fire. “Back to Renard’s camp? That’s insane.” Gilliam shook his head, “We’d all be dead.
“Not necessarily. He probably thinks we’ve run off or the Nursk Brothers killed us.” Berek’s mind was working over the possibilities. They had options, albeit not very good ones.
“But Fech will surely be looking for us.” Gilliam didn’t say the word ‘you’, which gave Berek some much needed relief.
“He should’ve been waiting for us with the Ogres; even though they hated each other he wouldn’t disobey Renard.” Berek’s argument made sense, but something about it didn’t feel right.
“Unless he‘s off on his own mission. Don’t forget lad, seeing the Nursk Brothers dead would be worth the risk to a gargoyle.” Galin crossed his arms in thought; it was too dangerous for them to return. Even if he was off on his own, Fech could easily find them, of that he was certain.
At the mention of the word gargoyle, Janessa’s eyes opened wide. “I’ve never seen a gargoyle, how big is it?”
Viola shook her head and Gilliam answered without breaking his concentration. “Too damn big.”
While the rest tried to think of something that could be done, Berek found a corner of the room and sat on the floor with his back and head resting in the corner against the wall. “We’ve had a long night, let’s get some rest and figure out what needs to be done in the morning.”
The others stopped and looked at him as he yawned. Gilliam and Galin exchanged glances and smiled. “Ladies, it looks like we’ll take you up on your offer for the night.”
Both Janessa and Viola smiled at them, both watched their guests find their spots on the floor to spend the remainder of the night. Each of the women smiled for different reasons. Janessa liked the company, having them around gave her a sense of family she hadn’t felt in years. Viola smiled because somewhere in her mind she knew things would get easier. She didn’t believe it in a visceral way, she just felt elated for a reason she couldn’t identify. Sometime in that hour the last of the companions drifted off to sleep while down the hall an old mage made ready his plans.
Chapter 20
Sometime before dawn Berek stirred, he wasn’t sure why but he had the feeling he needed to get moving. When he opened his eyes, the room was still dark gray with the predawn light. Around him his friends were fast asleep, some snoring while others whimpered. Reliving their experience in the tunnel, he thought to himself as he stood and stretched out his aching muscles.
He didn’t mind the stiffness or soreness from sleeping in the corner, but it was something he wouldn’t recommend over a bed. With a few twists of his arms and waist he worked out any kinks remaining from his sleep and readied himself to leave. Before he moved too far he paused by Gilliam, his uncle chose a spot close to Berek’s but still far enough away so they wouldn’t disturb each other. Next to him Berek placed the golden goblet and most of the jewels he claimed after their adventures the previous night. It wasn’t much, but he hoped Gilliam would understand when he woke.
“Goodbye uncle.” Berek whispered. The sound of his voice caused Gilliam to fidget but the cleric didn’t wake. As quietly as he could, Berek closed the door behind him.
When he stepped further into the hallway he heard the soft rustle of soft leather to his left. Berek recognized his company before the old man stepped out from the shadows. “Leaving so soon warrior? I don’t think your friends would approve.”
“I’m not in the mood for your parlor tricks Mern. I have work to do.” Berek had never said more than a few words to the mage and that early in the day he doubted the habit would change.
Mern smiled, his gray whiskers seemed to be on fire in the candlelight emblazoning the rest of the hallway. “I assure you, this is no parlor trick. I feel it’s only fair to warn you that if you go alone you will not survive. But then you already know that, don’t you? You feel you’re a disgrace to your family… don’t you? One cannot alter the path the Gods have chosen for us my boy, nor quarrel with their decisions.”
Berek shot the mage a look of anger that caused Mern to take a step back. A sign of fear the mage hadn’t shown for centuries. “Go back to your room wizard and pretend you know what events are happening beyond your door. Your wisdom and age don’t control my destiny, old man.” Without another word Berek turned and strode down the hallway.
Mern watched him go with interest. Berek was correct, the old mage had no reliable foresight of the future, nor could he control one’s destiny. But what he did better than most was to plant the seeds of the future in the present. Before speaking to Berek, Mern believed the fighter could win since both Renard and Fech had no understanding of the power the young man was capable of wielding. Not a single seed of doubt could take root even in the forged steel of Berek’s soul.
Smiling to himself, Mern entered his room and eased himself back into his warm bed. The morning would be most interesting. With any luck he’d rid himself of Berek and that wretched gargoyle.
*****
The flap of leathery wings was the only thing that could’ve given away Fech as he returned from a hunting excursion. Though he was loathe
to leave his observation point, he did have to eat and while he was only gone for a few minutes to catch a rabbit, it wasn’t as grievous as when he fell asleep for a few hours after Mern went back to his room.
As he did every hour since arriving after finding the Nursk brothers dead, he questioned himself whether or not he should return to his master and inform him of their failure. His failure, he reminded himself, for he should’ve been with the Ogres to act as messenger. Echoing his previous decisions, Fech decided against that action. His instincts told him the human wizard was a threat and he was determined to keep a watchful eye on him to protect his master. Fech would be punished for his lack of action against the two humans earlier, but he smelled something different about Mern. The old mage carried the stench of decay with him mixed with something the gargoyle knew by instinct.
The power around Mern wasn’t entirely his, and Fech knew the owner. If he did nothing else that day he would end the life of the Hand of the dragon known as Fyrelynx. His own death would be welcomed if it kept the ancient red queen where she was.
So intent was Fech on his thoughts, he nearly missed the human leaving the inn by skulking about in the shadows. Under normal circumstances, such an event would be of little concern to him as it was easy for the gargoyle to recognize the human as not being Mern even though the man’s features were hidden by a cloak. With his curiosity aroused, Fech continued to watch the man for a few moments. Something about the way he moved seemed familiar to Fech. A sudden stiff early morning breeze brought the faint smell of Ogres to his nose. Fech leapt from his perch and glided towards his target. If he was right he’d be able to solve a problem and avoid punishment.
*****
Stang was fast asleep in the soft chair behind the bar by the inn’s entrance. It was child’s play for Berek to sneak past him and out the door. The sun hadn’t risen over the horizon yet which left the street in a grayish light after the candles in the streetlamps burned out.
Berek pulled his cloak over his shoulders against the morning chill and did his best to remain in the shadows. While there wasn’t anyone in the streets that early, he wasn’t sure why he felt so helpless. The city’s guards were at the wall, Janessa told him before, they never patrolled the streets. He couldn’t understand how Hope hadn’t burned down by accident with the lack of patrols. No city could possibly be that quiet and safe.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than he heard something above him, but before he could move, a pair of powerful talons grabbed him by his upper arms and lifted him into the air. He knew it was Fech by the way he was being carried. Worse still, the creature’s grip made it impossible for him to reach his sword.
“Please struggle human. It’ll make my job easier.” Fech’s gravel voice cut off any thoughts Berek may have had about escaping. All Berek needed was a look down at the tops of the trees passing beneath his feet to understand. Fech hadn’t lied, he really hoped Berek would struggle and when he didn’t Fech chuckled. “Are you still alive? If not I’ll drop the dead weight, human.”
“I’m alive.” Fech chuckled at the sound of Berek’s response. He was impressed with the human. Berek kept his voice even with no sign of fear, even going so far as to sound annoyed.
“Tell me human, where were you off to? Our master has been worried about you.”
Under any other circumstances Berek would’ve smiled, but from their current height anything he did was dangerous to his health. “I’m sure he is. I hope I haven’t caused too much trouble.” Tears began sliding down his cheeks due to the cold air battering him from the front and above with each wing beat causing Berek to wish Fech would find a thermal and glide for a while.
The cold didn’t bother Fech when he flew, he found it exhilarating. For reasons unknown to him, other races believed the myth about gargoyles being cold-blooded. Oh well, that just made it easier for his kind to thrive in colder environments. “Not too much as far as I’m concerned. However, I doubt the Nursk Brothers would agree, don’t you think?”
Berek offered no response leaving the two to fly in silence until reaching Renard’s camp. At least Berek got there faster then he planned. He was amazed at how easy it was to distinguish the various tents and buildings from one another. The forge, cleric’s tent, fighter’s tents, and even Renard’s were set up in an organized pattern he never would’ve guessed possible from ground level. Of course, the thought of doing so never occurred to him before then.
The sun’s first rays of the day broke over the horizon, blinding him as they flew lower to land in front of Renard’s personal tent. Berek swore to himself, Fech did that on purpose. Any discomfort on Berek’s part brought a chuckle from the gargoyle. Before Berek could utter another curse the ground came rushing at them.
Fech released Berek from his grasp ten feet from the ground, not far enough to do the human serious harm but it would give birth to some bruises and, Fech hoped, scare the shit out of Berek. He watched with amazement when the human struck the ground hard and rolled to a stop. It wasn’t what Fech hoped to see, but it still amused him. Snickering to himself, Fech landed beside the human, displaying far more gracefulness of course.
The noise of their landing, or rather Berek’s, woke Renard and those nearby from a sound sleep. While the others that were disturbed rolled over back into the waiting arms of their dreams, Renard charged from his tent furious. “Fech! How dare you wake me with such a display! I should…” Renard’s voice trailed off when he noticed Berek Rising to his feet. “Ah, welcome home warrior. So nice of you to grace us with your presence.” The sarcasm was so thick Berek didn’t think a deaf man would’ve missed it.
Berek pulled his leather tunic down from his shoulders while giving the gargoyle a nasty look. Fech, of course, chuckled. “Truth is, I was on my way to see you when I was ambushed.”
Renard smiled, although his eyes continued burning like a fierce fire in an attempt to consume him with their intensity. “And you brought me gifts I suppose?” He motioned to Berek’s sword.
Berek smiled, “As a matter of fact I did. I came to buy my contract.”
At hearing Berek’s declaration, the fire in Renard’s eyes dwindled, replaced with a cold intensity seen only when he counted the day’s earnings. “Is that so? Then I assume you’re willing to pay for my property which you damaged.” Seeing Berek wasn’t about to say anything he continued, “Two well trained and schooled Ogres,” Renard ignored the growl from his pet, he’d deal with Fech’s attitude another time, “and of course one missing cleric.” Renard’s eyes turned skyward as if they were trying to see inside his mind while he did his calculations. “All together I’d say a thousand gold pieces would be fair.” Renard’s grin broke into a wide smile, “Now if you have that much then we can do business.” He laughed at the absurd amount, he knew there was no way possible for Berek, or any of his other fighters to come up with that kind of money.
Berek let him have his laughter and fun for a few moments. When he had enough, Berek pulled his hand out of one of his pockets. In it he held four diamonds, easily more than enough. “I want a receipt and this accursed brand off.” He pulled the leather wrist bands back to reveal a black R surrounded by a ring of fire.
Renard’s surprise was complete. He never saw jewels as beautiful as those Berek offered. It took a moment for him to understand what was being said and to regain his composure. “By all means, come and make yourself at home.” Renard drew the tent flap aside for Berek. After Berek entered his tent, Renard cast a commanding look at Fech, “Find out where he got them,” was what it told the gargoyle. Renard closed the tent flap behind him and the sound of large leathery wings forced air against the tent.
Renard’s mind was full of questions and strategies as he sat in his usual chair. Berek, he noted, chose to remain standing. The only way Berek could’ve gotten diamonds like those were by stealing them. Renard’s options, as he could see them, were that he could turn the fighter over to the local Sherriff but the reward would be nowhe
re near the worth of the gems. Second, he could allow Berek to buy out his contract then have Fech kill him in the forest. And third, he would then learn whom Berek had gotten the diamonds from so that Renard could help himself. He liked the combination of the final two and his mind went to work on how to do just that while also beginning to negotiate for Berek’s contract.
Chapter 21
The first rays of the sun weren’t strong enough to break through the curtains in the companion’s room but that didn’t stop a few of them from stirring. The first to do so were Viola and Janessa, simply because neither one was used to hearing snoring.
Snoring is one of the talents all Dwarves have, they have been known to boast of it in the same breath as a great deed they performed. It’s prudent to note you never tell a Dwarf they snore, most take it as a great insult for, to them, they heard the call of a great beast. But when they wake the beast ran away at the coming of a brave Dwarf. With that in mind, all Dwarves know they snore, Galin included. He was proud the other Dwarves refused to camp near him during his travels.
To his credit Gilliam never snored, he was one of the quietest sleepers in all of Pyrain. Still, he learned to ignore the sound after all his years serving as a cleric with Renard’s company. Even during his apprenticeship under Master Timble, the students were given private quarters to enhance their meditation. While he could ignore the snoring across the room, the yell that woke him was unexpected.
Janessa and Viola spent most of the night sitting in their bed looking at each other. After a while, Viola pulled a pillow over her head to try to block out the sound coming from Galin.
Janessa watched her friend try to block out the noise then looked back at the shape of the Dwarf. She knew him due to the noise he was making, but also because he was the only one that lain down in the middle of the floor. Both Gilliam and Berek were polite enough to find places to rest in the shadows and hadn’t bothered to snore.
