The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck

by Jason McWhirter

  Kromm’s features changed from one of despair to eagerness at this news. “How do we enter the Hallows?” he asked eagerly.

  “We must find a gate, a portal into that realm, and I know of one no more than a half day’s march from here,” she replied. “I do not know if we can make it before the hunters are upon us.”

  “We must. If not, then we must fight,” Kromm said with determination. “Men! Prepare for hard march!” shouted Kromm. “Take us to the Hallows, Blade Singer,” the king said, turning his gaze back to the half-elf warrior.

  “We are being hunted!” Allindrian yelled, addressing the men who were attending the wounded and seeing to their own injuries. “I will be moving fast and you must be vigilant! We are being pursued by something of great evil. If we elude these hunters then we enter a place of shadows and darkness, a place where death lurks behind every corner. Stay close, and make haste,” she said in a softer voice as the surviving men were now nearby, adjusting their gear with fixed purpose.

  Just as she finished speaking, an eerie howl echoed off the canyon walls. The men needed no further encouragement. They began running with all speed after the fleeing Ranger, eager to distance themselves from whatever was hunting them.

  Five

  Finding Them

  The five warriors moved quickly down the mountain side. Their wounds had been hastily patched up and blood stained their clothing, but the significance of their mission pushed them beyond the pain and exhaustion. The Blade Singer led them from animal trail to rock strewn path, running and leaping like a hunting cat, pushing the men hard. They were alert, scanning the landscape for their enemies that they knew were near. Allindrian had told them so. Evil beasts were hunting them and it was likely they would be found before they reached the gate to take them into the Hallows, a place of darkness and death. But it was the only way to get to Cuthaine quickly enough to find the queen and prince. And they all were willing to risk their lives to achieve that goal.

  Gullanin stood high on a cliff face overlooking the fleeing men. They resembled ants scurrying over a green landscape that was brushed with dabs of gray and brown from the mountain stone. Deep growls reverberated through the rock as the three Hounds of Gould, crouching beside him, peered down at their prey. Each was the size of a horse, but with the bulk of a bull in its prime. They growled ominously, exposing dagger-like teeth, barely able to contain the desire to jump off the ledge towards their feast.

  It was all Gullanin could do to control them. Their desire to hunt and rend the flesh of the men below strained Gullanin’s hold over them. Thumbing the amulet in his hand, he whispered calming words to the beasts. Gullanin had hoped that the Gould-Irin Orcs that he had created would destroy the king, allowing him to take credit for Kromm’s defeat, since it was his creation in Gould’s name that would have destroyed the remnants of the Tarsinian royal family. But it was not to be. The meddlesome Blade Singer had intervened again. She had saved the men just as Gullanin was about to bask in his victory. He grinned evilly as he thought about what the hounds would do to her petite body. It was not often that he got to witness the body of an elf, even a half-elf, being torn to pieces.

  “Let us go,” Gullanin ordered, “it is time to taste the flesh of our prey.”

  The demon beasts growled again, pivoting their heads toward Gullanin. The wizard rubbed the amulet while focusing on his command. The beasts’ yellow eyes narrowed and they bared their vicious fangs as they felt the pull of the amulet’s power. Their razor sharp claws clicked on the rough stone as they eagerly flexed their massive muscular bodies. Moving like birds, quick and jerky, they bounded down the rocky hillside as if it were nothing more than a flat cobblestone road.

  “Time to die,” Gullanin whispered to the wind as he glanced back down at the fleeing forms below. The wizard then brought up his right hand, splaying his fingers in front his face. On his index finger was a plain gold ring. Bringing the ring closer to his mouth he softly repeated several words of power, activating the magic of the ring. Instantly Gullanin felt a tremendous wind howling around his body, creating a powerful vortex into which his body melted. In just a few seconds his body had dispersed into the swirling air; he had become the wind itself. The sensation was odd. His body felt like it was everywhere at once, but he could see and hear as if he were still in human form. With a quick thought, Gullanin spun off the cliff face, blowing rapidly toward his enemies.

  ***

  Tulari whinnied loudly, shaking his head from side to side, his nostrils flaring as puffs of steamy breath rose in the cool air. Tulari was agitated and that worried Jonas.

  “I think we are close,” Jonas announced to the group as they rode up behind him. They had been riding hard and Tulari was now starting to lead them farther up the mountainside. Jonas was worried that the terrain would become more hostile and un-navigable for the horses. They already had to slow their pace as the horses stumbled up rock strewn paths and were forced to pick their way around fallen timber and rockslides. It was slow moving and Tulari seemed tense under his legs.

  “Maybe we should leave the horses and go on foot,” suggested Fil, his steed struggling over some loose rocks.

  “I’ve thought about that. What do you think, Taleen?” asked Jonas.

  “A sound suggestion,” she replied. “We could probably move faster without them at this point.”

  “But how do we find the king without Tulari to guide us?” Kilius asked as he rode up next to Fil. The young villager had done well so far and Jonas was impressed with his stamina. In fact, all three of the villagers had pulled their own weight, including Myrell.

  “It is Shyann who guides us and she will continue to do so,” Jonas answered, confident that she would lead the way.

  “It is a risk,” put in Taleen. “But we must be close. Tulari is clearly agitated. My bet is that Shyann or Bandris will lead us to the king without Tulari’s guidance. They will find a way to show us the correct path.”

  “I agree. I’d rather die by an orc blade than fall off this blasted horse and break my neck,” said Fil.

  “I second that,” added Myrell, who was riding with Taleen in the rear. Jonas had spent several nights working with Myrell on her sword work. She was a quick learner and had been given a solid foundation by her father. But she still had to work on her strength and speed. Jonas remembered his first lessons with Allindrian, recalling having to learn similar lessons himself. She had scolded him constantly on how important it was to build strength, speed, and stamina; without them a skilled swordsman was nothing more than an actor playing a part.

  “Then it is agreed. We will leave the horses in the next meadow. Tulari and Kormac will stay close and we will have to hope that the other horses follow their lead. We can come back and get them once we find the king and his family,” Jonas said as they continued to slowly advance up the mountain trail.

  ***

  Dandronis knelt by the huge decapitated orc leader. At least it looked like the leader to Dandronis. The orc was gigantic, larger even than the other large beasts sprawled in death along the mountain path. Bodies were strewn all around them, orc and human alike. The men had traveled hard, tracking the orcs in hopes that they would lead them to their king, and by the looks of it, they had. But was it too late? They searched the bodies, relieved that they did not find King Kromm or any of his family members, but General Farwin was among the dead and that did not bode well with Dandronis.

  As he further inspected the scene, it became pretty apparent what had happened. The orcs had caught up with them and the Tarsinian Knights had tried to trap them in the narrow confines of the trail. By the looks of it, it was successful, but it came at a huge cost. Dandronis counted forty seven dead knights. He had never seen or heard of orcs that could do that type of damage, especially against such elite knights and the battle hardened king. They were huge, heavily armored and obviously capable of holding their own against the toughest fighting men in Tarsis. Many of the men that lay dead around him we
re warriors that he recognized, and some that he knew personally. He had seen many of his comrades die the last few weeks, but this time it seemed to anger him even more. These men were the best warriors in Tarsis, forged by countless battles, years spent with sword and shield in hand, defending the land against all who threatened it. And now they were dead, rotting along the mountain trail without a proper burial.

  Dandronis, filled with barely contained rage, stood up from the orc leader’s body and looked around him. His newly acquired dwarven mail glinted in the afternoon sun. His emotions ranged from anger to sorrow as he viewed his comrades lying in death, their bodies already rigid. The stench of death drifted around him, a smell he loathed, the coppery odor of blood combined with that of the men’s emptied bowels, a common side effect of death. The stench of a battlefield could be overwhelming, and anyone who had experienced it knew there was no dignity in battle. War brought out the animal nature of men.

  “Any sign of the king?” Dandronis asked the men who were searching the battle grounds. Several ‘nays’ followed as the distraught men continued their search. There were a few bodies here and there that they, too, recognized, and that realization, combined with the amount of death they had seen over the last few days, engulfed them in a dark cloud of despair. Dandronis could see by their expressions that they felt as he did.

  Kye, their tracker, broke the momentary silence. “Sir, it appears that a group of men continued down the trail. By the looks of the tracks I’d say one was King Kromm. I know of no one else who has the size of his foot print.”

  “What of the queen and prince?” asked Dandronis.

  “We found no bodies, so that is good news. As far as tracks, I cannot be sure.”

  Durgen the dwarf approached Dandronis.

  “These orcs, I have not seen the likes of them. It’s a shame we missed the fightin’. What’s yer plan?” he asked brusquely.

  “Follow the king,” Dandronis replied simply.

  ***

  Allindrian ran with the speed and grace of a fleeing deer. The men behind her were tiring; the recent battle and their wounds were taking their toll. The king, however, seemed unfazed by his ordeal. His great strides kept him right behind the Blade Singer. Allindrian could hear his breathing as his giant lungs sucked in and expelled the crisp mountain air. She could clearly hear the thudding of his booted feet as they carried his massive body across the terrain.

  She was in a deep state of meditation, focusing intently on her surroundings. Every sound was clear and every smell acute. Nothing went unnoticed as her trained eyes scanned her surroundings.

  Suddenly she heard a faint clicking noise carried on the wind. It was barely audible and anyone else would never have noticed it. She knew the sound was out of place in this environment, and to Allindrian it was as obvious as the stench of an orc in an elven flower garden. She stopped running and tilted her head to listen. Kromm abruptly pulled up next to her as did the panting knights.

  “What is it?’ Kromm asked through deep breaths as he instinctively reached for his great sword that was strapped to his back. Allindrian held up her hand to silence him.

  They were in a large meadow surrounded by fir trees. To the west was a gentle rise of rocks and ledges along the mountainside. She heard it again. It was a clicking noise, coming from the rocks. She scanned the ridges and ledges looking for the source of the noise. What was that sound? She had heard it before.

  Then it came to her in a flash. It was the sound of claws on stone! Reaching back she drew an arrow from her quiver. Her move was faster than a striking snake, and the men were momentarily taken aback by her sudden movement. But it was only seconds before the seasoned warriors saw her action for what it was…an alarm that danger was near. Within heartbeats they had all brought their weapons to bear. The sound of scraping steel on scabbards echoed off the rock face.

  “Prepare to fight!” she yelled, bringing her bow up and drawing back on the string. Instantly, two large beasts leaped from a ledge, sprinting down the rock face. They moved as easily as lizards down the rocks and in a few seconds they were on the soft meadow floor running on all fours toward the astonished men.

  The creatures were as large as bulls in their prime, with huge dog-like heads. But because their thick skin seemed to take on the hues of their surroundings, Allindrian had looked right over them thinking they were nothing but part of the rocks that surrounded them.

  She was astonished at their size and speed, but her training took over and she reacted instinctively, firing arrow after arrow into one beast, hoping to take it down and even the odds. Incredibly the beast dodged two of her arrows, but the third and fourth slammed into its thick shoulders. Allindrian’s arrows were magical, but even so they barely penetrated the animal’s hide. And then the beast was on her.

  Kromm drew his sword, surging toward the threat with no hesitation. Any other man would have fled, for the terror that these creatures engendered was overpowering. Each beast emanated a magical fear stronger than anything these men had ever felt. Though the king’s men held their ground, their swords shook with the fright that was enveloping them.

  Kromm could not believe the size of the beasts. Even he seemed small compared to their massive bulk. His men fanned out to both his flanks, giving him room to use his sword. They stood, grasping their weapons in trembling hands as the demon hounds charged them. It was an eerie sight, for the beasts did not growl or make any sound as they sprinted across the grassy ground, which seemed completely out of the ordinary for an animal of that size. It made them seem as if they were floating across the meadow.

  But as they rapidly drew near, Kromm could see that they were not animals at all. They were demons. Their skin shifted in colors and their eyes glowed red. Their teeth and claws were black, like coal, and abnormally long.

  They fanned out as they charged the group. One was targeted on Allindrian while the other two bore down on Kromm and his men. The nearest demon hound was ten feet away when it pivoted, jumping to Kromm’s left. It was so quick that Kromm registered the move several seconds after the beast was tearing into Gylow. The creature hit the swordsman in the chest, remaining on top of him as he hit the ground. The impact alone had crushed his sternum, but when the beast landed on top of him it continued attacking, using its knife-like talons to rip and tear through armor, muscle, and bone, completely tearing his chest apart. Then, in mere seconds, it had leaped away from the torn body of Gylow, and had charged toward the astonished king.

  Allindrian drew her sword, quickly whispering the words to a spell. As the last word was uttered, six glowing bolts appeared next to her, floating in mid-air. With a quick mental command, she sent all six into the demon just as it jumped towards her. The magical bolts slammed into the flying animal as Allindrian dove forward under the beast. The giant hound flew over her as she came up from a roll, standing to face the snarling monster.

  The demon spun and roared, the sound causing all the men to stumble as they held their ears in pain. Even Allindrian reacted by bringing her hands to her ears, trying to block out the assault that was pounding at her head. Her vision momentarily blurred and her head swam, but she managed to shake off the audible attack just in time to see the demon hound strike with both front claws. She brought her sword up quickly but the beast’s speed was incredible. She managed to deflect one claw with her sword, but the other ripped across her shoulder and chest. Flying backwards she used the momentum of the strike, spinning in the air and rolling across the ground. It felt like a bull had struck her, but she had no time to inspect her wound. She had to hope that her elven chain mail had kept the razor sharp claws away from her flesh.

  Evryn ripped his mind from the fear that was controlling his body, lifting his mighty axe just as the demon hound leaped at King Kromm. His ears still rang, but his king needed him. Bellowing a war cry he lunged toward the leaping hound, bringing his axe down as hard as he could. The blade was sharp and well made. It had seen him through many battles, yet it
felt as if his blade had struck a flying rock. The beast’s momentum and iron-like hide caused his axe to rebound with such incredible force that the warrior was thrown to his back.

  Kromm dove to the side, the demon hound landing where he had been. He came up quick, slashing his blade out with one hand as the beast attacked relentlessly with teeth and claw. Kromm used his prodigious strength and huge blade to swat the demon’s paws away, but the hound kept coming and Kromm was forced backwards.

  Meanwhile, Tyn had also finally broken away from the fear that had imprisoned him, pressing his mind into blackness. Shaking, sweating, and gritting his teeth, he fought off the evil beasts’ spell. It felt like he was walking through a windstorm and that once he broke the spell, the oppressive wind had just disappeared.

  He ran forward to help his king, but he never made it. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of third beast as it bounded from the brush behind them. He hadn’t heard it at all. It was the creature’s smell that caused him to turn just in time to see his death before him. His last sensory impression was the smell of burnt hair and rotting flesh as he felt the demon’s claws tear at his chest. He was soon relieved of his pain as the world went black around him just as the beast’s jaws closed over his head.

  Allindrian spun and danced, trying to evade the deadly claws. She moved backwards using her silver blade to deflect the blows. Her magical blade cut the beast many times, but it seemed to have little effect. But the demon was bleeding. Her magic bolts had struck home and she could see several holes in the demon’s hide bubble with black blood. Its paws sustained numerous shallow cuts as well and black blood was splattering against her every time it attacked. Yet it kept up the attack, and the pain in her shoulder began to slow her down. She couldn’t tell for sure, but she may have broken something. She needed to take the offensive to win this fight, but it was all she could do to defend herself. Then she thought of an idea.