Nekdukarr

by Chris A. Jackson

  Avari's breath caught in her throat as she realized what he was alluding to. She craned her neck around to look him in the eye; his serious mien brought her up short.

  “You’re really going to do it?” This man never ceased to surprise her. Here was a peace-loving gentleman, jovial about taking an entire nation into a war that might very well be unwinnable. Very likely, he would meet his death, like both her father and Jundag had: eyes wide open, sword in hand, facing an overwhelming enemy to protect the innocent.

  "After all you've done for me," she said, trying to keep a tear from rolling down her cheek, "how can I ask you to do this?"

  "Oh, Avari," he answered, as he ran a calloused thumb along her jaw line, "it's nothing you've asked me to do." He held her gaze for a moment then smiled crookedly. "I've chosen to do this; you merely set events into motion. Besides, you couldn't stop me even if you wanted to."

  It was more than she could take. Before she realized what she was doing, their lips met in a kiss more desperate than either thought possible, and more passionate than either had intended.

  Where four hunters had lurked in confidence, three defeated wretches now cowered like beaten curs. Hours had been spent picking shards of glass, plaster and wood from two of the assassins' wounds; the healing elixirs they carried had kept them alive, barely. Dart alone had escaped injury; Stiletto had not returned at all. They had to assume the worst and go on. But go where?

  "Darkmist is trying to dig us an early grave!" Whip spat, flexing his tender hand. "He could have warned us about that half-elf’s power.”

  "The dwarf is dead, at least," Garrote pointed out. "I saw my shot hit him; it evens out the odds, three to three, if the tall woman is still alive."

  "To the Nine Hells with even! They know we're after them now; they will be wary." Whip flexed his fingers again to loosen the healing flesh. "We've got to lie off, maybe find out where they're headed and get there first."

  "Oh, just gaze into your crystal ball and magic yourself ahead of them, eh?" Garrote taunted.

  "Enough!" snapped Dart. "Bickering is pointless. We must contact Lord Darkmist. He will either call us back or send us on; there's no choice in it for us. Get used to it."

  Their grumbling died as he withdrew a small onyx statuette from a satchel. The figurine was a miniature likeness of their lord, accurate down to the finest detail. Dart put it down and spoke the phrase that activated the magical device. For a moment nothing happened, then the eyes flared red and an all-too-familiar voice emanated from it.

  "What news do you bring?" the disembodied voice asked. "Two of you bear wounds, and there are but three of you in all! Tell me this is the result of a ferocious battle in which you recovered my lost gems."

  "Our endeavors were not entirely successful, Lord Darkmist." Dart managed a steady tone, despite his nerves.

  "Not entirely successful... Then you have recovered only one of the gems?" The dark lord's voice trembled in rage.

  "No, lord, but one of the thieves is dead."

  "As is, evidently, one of your own," Darkmist pointed out, his tone implying that more of them might soon exhibit the same condition. "Where are they now?"

  "We know not, lord," Dart admitted. "The half-elf priest wields considerable power, lord. We were forced to flee. They know they are being pursued, and will likely leave the city."

  "And will be even more difficult to approach." Iveron Darkmist's voice was strangely calm, and the ensuing silence was even more discomforting than his usual temper. "The only reason you three are still breathing is the lack of other members of your clan in my employ." Iveron's voice now merely rumbled with irritation. "I shall have to tolerate your ineptitude."

  The assassins all heaved sighs of relief—

  "This time."

  —which caught in their throats at Darkmist's threat. There was no doubt that another blunder would be fatal.

  "Command us, lord!" Dart barked, hoping to pacify his volatile commander. "We will follow the thieves and fetch their hearts for you, as well as the lost gems!"

  "That may redeem your failure. They will either trek north, overland, or take passage up-river, toward Darkenwood Lake. Follow them closely; attack at the first opportunity.”

  "Of course, lord!"

  Dart's lips curved in a relieved smile as the eyes of the statue dimmed, but his relief faded as he considered the task at hand. The guard was alerted to their presence, and they had no idea where the thieves were. He and his companions needed supplies and information, both of which would be very dangerous to come by with the city guard searching for them.

  Iveron Darkmist stood like an ebony obelisk before the darkened scrying mirror. His fingers flexed as if strangling snakes, shudders of rage wracking his armor-clad shoulders. Two strides took him to an overloaded bookshelf that dominated one wall of his study. He retrieved a large scroll and unrolled it on his desk. It was a map of the entire northern expanse, his battleground. A single word of magic brought hitherto unseen symbols to its surface.

  He focused upon the two small specks on opposite ends of the map; a white spot for Ghendal, keeper of the enchanted diamond, and a blue spot for Drixel, charged with the sapphire's safe keeping. Iveron traced a finger along the path the companions had taken.

  "How can they locate the gems so unerringly?" he seethed.

  Perhaps they had discovered a secret about the gems that he had missed. Iveron had pored over racks of dwarvish lore, and while they hinted of the gems, they never delved into detail. The lord-general's dead blue-white face flushed to deep blue-grey in anger. All the knowledge he possessed of the gems was either conjecture or gained by experimentation. What did they know?

  At a sudden thought he quickly rifled through the litter of parchment on his desk, retrieving a caliper. He measured the distance from Zellohar Keep to the temple of the snake-men, then compared it with the distances to the other gems. Strange that they had gone into the swamp first, when the sapphire had been closer. Then they had proceeded to Fengotherond, which seemed to be in the general direction of Ghendal's position, which was the next closest. But why the emerald first?

  "Damn all dwarves to the bottom of the Nine Hells, and all their dwarvish secrets with them!" He dropped the caliper and began pacing, chewing his lip in consternation, then stopped.

  "Dwarves!" he exclaimed. "That's the key!"

  Iveron took some measurements from the map. He was right. The thieves had gone to the dwarves, and learned something; the closest gem to the warrens was the emerald, then the diamond, then the sapphire, which meant that he now knew exactly where the thieves would be next.

  He walked to his scrying mirror and began the incantation to contact Ghendal. Between the Dukarr and the Shadowknives, it should now be child's play to retrieve the gems.

  The view of Lord Darkmist's study faded into the natural blue-white cast of the shard of scrying ice. Ghendal smiled. So, the thieves are coming this way. Good. He turned and beckoned to his attendant, the previous ruler of the glacier in which they now stood. The cavern shook as the ice troll lumbered over, drawing the Dukarr's smile into a maniacal gleam; all that power and much more was now his to command.

  "It appears we are to have guests, Glyx."

  Glyx grinned, baring cracked and broken teeth the color of ebony. He caressed the tree-trunk haft of his axe and licked his bluish lips. Guests usually meant a feast, one way or the other.

  "They will be trying to steal the Heart of the Glacier," Ghendal explained, drawing the stone from his pocket. "We will have something special waiting for them. Go tell the others; they will be here within a tenday." With the huge humanoid's departure, Ghendal drew his cloaks close around himself and paced, more an attempt to stave off the chill than from impatience.

  "Interesting," he said as he rubbed his gloved hands together. "The thieves are headed this way with two of the other gems."

  He withdrew the enchanted stone from his pocket and gazed at it. Interesting, indeed, he thought. I wonder i
f the lord of Zellohar Keep is powerful enough to wrest three of these gems from me, once I discover the key to their power?

  CHAPTER 13

  Avari speared the last bit of ham on her plate, mopped up the traces of egg and popped it in her mouth. Smiling at Yenjil, she leaned back and sipped her tea. They sat close in a bright airy room that overlooked the small garden and stable area behind the house, sated, warm, happy and enjoying each other’s company.

  "I wish I could stay longer." Her eyes drifted about the room and the garden, then down to where her fingers lay entwined in Yenjil's. She had never imagined herself in this position, but it felt so natural. "I could grow used to this kind of life."

  "Perhaps all the more reason you should seek your own life," Yenjil said, kissing her fingers. He rose, collected the dishes, and carried them into the kitchen. "A few months of this can do irreparable damage to a warrior. Just look what it's done to me."

  "What are you talking about?" she laughed, skipping up to swat him on the flank. "You look healthy enough, and I know there's nothing wrong with your stamina." She thrust her hands into the pockets of his robe, questing around him teasingly.

  "Ah, but I've been drowned by civilization, my fair warrioress." He rinsed the dishes and stacked them to dry. "Just look at me! Lounging around the house in a robe, washing dishes and wearing slippers. Everyone knows that warriors eat raw meat and never bathe."

  "Trust me," Avari said, drawing his face close to hers, "stick with the bathing." She kissed him resoundingly and whirled away before he could grab her.

  "Now, if you would be so brave as to hail me a carriage, I've got to go." Her smile faded at the thought of leaving.

  "Oh, that reminds me, a messenger arrived before you were up. I assumed the package was for you. It's quite large."

  Indeed, a huge chest occupied a good portion of the hall. Avari knew instantly why it was so big: all her belongings would only fill a quarter of such a container, but Gaulengil was a difficult item to pack. She knelt, lifted the lid and smiled at the contents. The greatsword lay next to the blade she had inherited from her father, the chain of her father's medallion looped over both hilts. Beneath lay everything she needed, right down to freshly cleaned boots.

  "Shay is becoming far too efficient," she thought aloud.

  "This came with it," he said, handing her a sealed scroll.

  She broke the wax and unraveled the parchment, smiling at the elegant sweeping characters of Shay's hand.

  Avari:

  We have taken the liberty of packing your things and sending them to you. The most difficult by far was your temperamental sword, but after a stern talking to by DoHeney, it seemed to quiet down.

  We are all well; DoHeney owes his life to a constitution rivaling that of the stone from which I have no doubt he was chiseled. We will meet you at mid-morning in front of the shop where you purchased your evening gown. Forgive the cryptic message, but we cannot be too careful now that we are being pursued.

  You have our best wishes and love.

  Tem's speed,

  Szcze-kon

  "And this is a little package I put together for your journey." Avari took the scroll case Yenjil handed her with a questioning gaze that made him chuckle.

  "You forget why you first contacted me. These are maps to the northlands and directions to a village where you can hire a trustworthy guide. I know these people well. They're a fairly primitive tribe of hunters, but they tend to stay put. The young males like to seek adventure before settling down. They are quite capable and very dependable."

  "Thank you," Avari said, wondering how many times she would have to say that to this unbelievable man. Yenjil just smiled and pulled her to her feet.

  "Now, if you can dress without my assistance, I'll see what I can do about transportation." He smiled and kissed her once again, then turned and ascended the stairs two at a time.

  Avari groaned with the weight of the chest as she hauled it into the study. Her modesty had been much reduced over the last day or so, but she still preferred privacy to change clothes.

  "Was linen always this itchy?" she mused as she pulled on her undershirt. Her clothes seemed coarse in comparison to the silky gown and fluffy robe. Also, the pants were a bit snug, and she did not remember the mail shirt weighing so much. She dragged on the boots, belts, buckles, greaves, daggers, and her quiver and sword. Her heavy cloak finally covered her shoulders, and Avari picked up Gaulengil and her bow. She felt like an over-laden packhorse.

  She snatched up her saddlebags and helm, then fished the bejeweled dagger, emerald pendant and earrings out of her robe pocket, draping the soft garment over the empty chest. On impulse, she folded the dagger and jewelry into the robe, and gave it a pat. She left the cozy room with a longing glance.

  "Yen! I'm ready!" Avari called. No answer. Perhaps upstairs? "Yen?" Still no answer. "Maybe out back." She went to the kitchen, then heard his call.

  "Avari, your ride is here."

  She smiled and strode to the back door, realizing he probably had a carriage waiting in the stable all the while. She stepped outside and stumbled in dumbstruck astonishment.

  Yenjil stood at the foot of the steps, dwarfed by the horse he held by the bridle. Avari approached, gaping at the beautiful gelding's stature and strength. His coat, a sleek red roan, was brushed and soft to her eager touch. His huge white feet were brightly shod and groomed, the hooves glossy. He stood proudly, as if carved from a block of granite.

  "Avari, I would like to introduce you to Behemoth; Bo for short." Yenjil stroked the gelding's massive neck. "You already met his little sister, Gargantua. He's finished with his training, and I have little use for him, so I would like you to have him."

  "Oh, you're kidding!" she gasped, her hopes leaping to catch up to the reality of his words. "I... I couldn't. I mean... I thought you said the emperor..."

  "He forbids the sale of war-trained mounts, but the law says nothing about giving one as a gift. The captain of the guard does have some privileges." He laughed at her glazed stare.

  "Do you know all the commands?" he asked.

  "Since I was eight years old! But..."

  "Good! Bo knows them, too. If you forget one, I'm sure he'll remind you. You should have time in your travels to get acquainted. If all else fails, he'll do anything for an apple."

  Yenjil produced one from a pocket and handed it to her. Avari grinned and offered it to Behemoth. He took it with a touch as light as a caress and chomped happily, then nudged her, looking for more. She laughed, handed her extra items to Yenjil and swung up into the deep saddle. She took the reins and grinned, then gave a command with her heels. Bo backed up without balking, then stopped and turned a circle at a touch of her toe. She laughed with delight and reared him back, patting him hard on the neck when he came down.

  Yenjil approached and handed up her equipment. Gaulengil she secured in front of her knee, her saddlebags behind her, and her bow and quiver over her shoulder.

  "I don't know how to thank you for this," she said, a tear of joy running down her cheek.

  "A kiss, my fair warrioress." Bo stood patiently for a long moment. At last, Yenjil stood back.

  "I will see you again, Yenjil Thallon," Avari promised.

  "Of that you may be sure, my brave and beautiful one."

  Avari kicked Bo into a trot and rode out of the stable yard without looking back.

  Two hours and three inquiries later, Avari finally recognized the shop where she had purchased her gown. All of the streets looked the same, and she hadn't realized how far Yenjil's house was from the shopping district. She pulled Behemoth to an easy stop in front of the shop, noting his dislike of cobblestones.

  "I can't wait to get you in the open to see what you can really do," Avari whispered in Bo's big, soft ear before dismounting. Her friends were nowhere to be seen, and curious eyes stared from store windows. It seemed that horses such as Bo were rare in the shopping areas, especially mounted by armed women not wearing the
emperor's livery.

  Could she be early? No. With a self-conscious glance around, she decided to find a less conspicuous place to wait; she and Bo stood out like a fly on a china plate.

  "Come on, boy." She swung back aboard and eased him toward a nearby alley. "Can you do nonchalant, huh? There you go, nice and easy."

  Where were her friends? Shay was punctual, if anything. Could the assassins have waylaid them before they got here?

  Avari patted Bo's massive neck then slid her hand down to loosen Gaulengil in its scabbard. She considered her bow, but stringing it might draw attention. A touch of her heel increased Bo's pace a step, and the narrow alley drew nearer.

  About five paces from the entrance, Bo stopped with a jolt. Avari had given no command. Was he being stubborn, testing his new master, or— Then she heard it, the unrhythmic tapocka-tapock of horses standing at rest. Several mounts, waited around the corner. Behemoth's ears flattened in irritation.

  "Good boy," Avari whispered as she slipped from the saddle. She dropped his rein and said, "Stand."

  Bo stood stock still, the muscles tensing in his chest as he eyed Avari's careful movements. His nostrils flared as she drew a dagger and edged to the corner, but he stood motionless, ready.

  Avari whirled around the corner, dagger cocked, ready to fix her blade between Shadowknife eyes. Instead, she faced the astonished expressions of Lynthalsea and DoHeney. They sat astride their mounts, trailing two packhorses and Shay's riderless steed, evidently also deeming it safer to wait off the main street.

  "Sheeesh!" DoHeney exclaimed, pointing his crossbow away from her. "Ye near got a new hairpiece there, lass. I been a might nervous since last night, ye know."

  "Avari!" Lynthalsea seemed happy to see her, if one looked beyond the needle-sharp arrow that had been aimed at Avari’s heart. "You look wonderful! I want to hear every detail of your evening, but we've still got to buy you a horse, so we'd best be going. You can tell us all about it as we ride."