Shadow Realms: Part One of the Redemption Cycle

by J. R. Lawrence

  “Follow this passage up into the same cavern the Horg’s made camp in,” the scout told them as they stood before the opening, “and from there, you should know your way out.”

  “We shall,” Yaldaa replied.

  With that, the scout departed in haste to reunite with his comrades, and Yaldaa turned to lead the way through the narrow tunnel.

  As they went along at a quick but smooth pace for the pained Juanna, who lay dizzily in the arms of Fustua in their retreat, Juanna began to speak slowly and wearily to Fustua; and for a moment, Fustua didn’t realize it.

  “Fustua,” she began in a weary tone, “fear not for me. My time, I fear, has not yet come. I fear also that my battle with the Mazar chieftain has not yet ended…” She paused in deep contemplation. “If anything, it has only begun.”

  Fustua barely heard her words as he followed behind Yaldaa as quickly as possible. But the few words he picked out were enough for him to understand her meaning. He did not reply to the troubling thoughts of his captain, nor would he ever have to.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Disturbing News

  The messenger panted as he approached Leona’burda and Vaknorbond, to report the attack that had taken place outside their walls. His words came forth as gasps after a hard run rather than words at all.

  “Horg’s… outside… our walls,” the guard began breathlessly.

  “Catch your breath, and then I shall here what you have to say,” Leona’burda said in an already distressed tone.

  The guard took a moment to steady his breathing before continuing, not wishing to anger the Lady in any way. But before he could continue his report on the destruction outside their walls, Vaknorbond already guessed the situation.

  “Mazoroth,” he whispered under his breath.

  The guard looked at him blankly, and did not finish his story then.

  “What?” Leona wondered, looking sidelong at Vak.

  Vaknorbond looked up into both of their faces, satisfied that he had guessed right. “Mazoroth of Mazar,” he said louder so they could here, “The same Horg who invaded Grundagg’s passage. It seems they have changed their course to our direction.”

  “They are no more though, my Lord,” the guard said suddenly. “They disturbed the mushrooms and have paid the price.”

  “Many there are of a Horg pack, and many may lie at our doorstep; but undoubtedly not all of Mazoroth’s clan has died,” Vak said. “Better to assume the worse than be surprised.”

  “Yes,” the guard agreed, bowing.

  Just before Vak dismissed the guard, though, the ringing of the tower alarm sounded throughout the hall as it did before; but this time was not followed by cries or the shouting of orders.

  The guard looked up in terror. “Horg’s!” he cried in fear.

  Vak pushed past the frightened soldier and marched across the chamber toward the doors, opening before him as he approached. Behind him the guard followed, but Leona stood where she had been, watching them go, and glaring into the back of Vaknorbond’s head.

  “Then has the Lord of Vulzdagg returned?” Leona asked herself with a raised brow. However, she cared little of it.

  Outside the soldiers were gathered into strict formation, armed as for battle, and beginning to march toward the gates of their city. But they halted as Vaknorbond approached, Razarr stopping them at their head.

  “Lord Vaknorbond!” Razarr said with a bow. “Horg’s have disturbed and set alight the mushrooms in our grove.”

  “Yes, that I have heard,” Vak replied solemnly. “Have any of your troops gone out to meet them?”

  “Not at the moment,” Razarr answered. “But I was just preparing these troops to do so, and to be sure the Horg’s have been dealt with.”

  Again the alarm sounded from the stalagmite towers along the city walls, and Vaknorbond looked to the gate that stood perfectly still. “You best be at the gate,” he said, moving briskly ahead of the troops, “I wouldn’t doubt the Horg’s resistance to give up!”

  “They are stubborn,” Razarr agreed as he followed behind. Then to his soldiers he shouted, “To the gate! Ready yourselves for battle!” and all the troops marched in formation behind them as they ran to meet whoever was behind that gate of iron and rock.

  *****

  “We come in peace!” Gregarr yelled again to the stalagmite towers as they repeated the alarm once more, but he didn’t need to say it a third time. The gate began to open slowly, revealing Vaknorbond and fifty well-armed Followers behind him.

  “Lord of Vulzdagg, we come in peace!” Gregarr said, and immediately dropped into a bow. The Grundagg troops behind him did likewise.

  Vaknorbond was surprised, and also relieved, to find a group of The Followers instead of the reported Horg’s at his gate. But he dared not assume anything yet. “Unless my ears have been deceived,” he said to Gregarr, “I heard that Horg’s, not Grundagg’s, have disturbed my grove and met their fate.”

  “Your ears have not deceived you, lord Vulzdagg,” Gregarr said, still crouched in his bow. “There were Horg’s that entered your borders, but they were intercepted by some of my kin and have, indeed, met their fate.”

  Vak held a grim expression, not trusting the fighter from Grundagg, and being wise in doing so. “Tell me your name,” he said in a low tone.

  “I am Gregarr, chief captain of the lord and the lady Grundagg,” Gregarr said, looking up from his bowed position.

  Vak hesitated a moment, a long enough moment for Gregarr to grow uneasy in the silence that fell over the area. It was surprising, and it perhaps stood out more after the repeating of the tower alarms and the explosions of the mushrooms, that the silence seemed quieter than any other that Gregarr had before experienced. And such a silence in that shadowy world was never followed by decent happenings.

  But the silence was broken by Vaknorbond, who seemed to have settled his thoughts. “Then welcome, Gregarr of Grundagg. Come, if you know of my invaders. I bid thee come and tell me what you have seen in the darkness.”

  With that, Gregarr sighed in relief, and rose to his feet. Vak order Razarr to direct their own soldiers back to their barracks, to rest themselves from the rush of adrenalin that had overcome them during the confusion and commotion outside their walls. And Grundagg warriors were also led to the barracks to rest themselves from their travel to the higher level and across the crack – which Vaknorbond thought to be a difficult task for them to accomplish. But the Grundagg soldiers thought leaping the crack the easiest part of the hard running they had endured to stand where they now stood, safely within the walls of Vulzdagg. However, Gregarr was brought with Vak and Razarr into the citadel.

  Standing before the two thrones, where she had been when Vak left, Leona was motionless and barely realized they had entered the room when the large double doors swung wide.

  “Lady Vulzdagg!” Gregarr said, recognizing her as the Lady of the city. He bowed before her in respect. “Horg’s, my lady, have entered your domain. But they have not crossed your mushroom grove alive.”

  “Horg’s,” Leona said, scowling. “Why would Horg’s attempt such an outrageous attack?”

  “They were Horg’s of the Mazar clan, led by Mazoroth,” Vak said pointedly.

  “Mazoroth,” Leona breathed, now recognizing the name as the same Horg who had invaded Grundagg. “But why would he come all the way up here from Grundagg’s borders?”

  “That we do not know,” Gregarr replied grimly. He stood slowly to face Leona. “But whatever madness drove them up here cannot be one for good reason, nor would I suspect that their intention has been fully fulfilled. Mazoroth is a tricky one, and full of deceits. This whole act might have just been a diversion; something to distract us from a bigger attack somewhere else. Our only option now is to wait and see what exactly that is.”

  “I fear he is right, my lord and lady,” Razarr said. “Horg’s may be clumsy, but they are strong and know much about these lands.”

  “If I may say
more,” Gregarr put in suddenly, looking to Vaknorbond and then to Leona’burda. “As me and my soldiers came into the cavern the Mazar’s had settled in, we saw that they had departed down a passage they had carved themselves. They did not use tools to accomplish this task. It was done by magic. And by the length of the passage, and the efficiency of the cutting, I could not help but admit that they had a powerful worker of such an art among them.”

  Vak shifted uncomfortably as Gregarr finished. “Is that all? Did you find any more signs of this mage you speak of?”

  “I did not,” Gregarr replied, “Nor did my soldiers – unless they are keeping secrets from me.”

  Vak began pacing about in deep thought, his expression troubled. Leona moved back up the steps to her throne, and sat herself down comfortably. In her mind, though, she wondered what exactly Vaknorbond was distressed about when hearing of the mage.

  “Perhaps it abandoned its company, or fell in the grove with the others,” Leona suggested, eyeing Vaknorbond.

  “One would like to think so,” Vak said abruptly, “But one cannot assume anything until sure of the decision.” He stopped his pacing and stood, looking at Gregarr incredulously. “When your passage was first attacked, did your soldiers ever speak of a mage entering in with the attacking company?”

  Gregarr frowned in thought, saying, “No, not that I have heard.”

  “One must not rely on one’s hearing alone,” said Vak, looking at the faces of everyone in the great hall, even the guards stationed along the walls. “Sometimes the deaf are the greatest opponents, or the blind the best marksmen.” Looking straight at Leona, he said solemnly, “Sometimes even children must fight to prove themselves, and sometimes lords must step down from their needed positions to prove to all something that even he is not quite sure of.”

  Leona scowled furiously at Vak, but he paid no heed to her angered expression, instead continuing with what he was trying to tell them.

  “To understand something beyond our knowledge may only lead to our own destruction.” Vak glanced at the anteroom door, where Dril’ead had been carried out, and continued thoughtfully. “Attempting to understand such things will only lead to open combat against one another. And with hands stained with the blood of our kin, only madness will come of it, and a crazed determination to fight those who wronged them to their doom.”

  Vak looked again to each face in the room. A silence had fallen over the courtroom, and in each face was both confusion and deep thought. With a quick glance at the furious Leona’burda, he crossed the room toward the anteroom door to depart.

  “Thank you for bringing us news of the Horg’s attempted attack,” he said to Gregarr as he passed him by. “You may depart these lands if you desire.”

  At those words, Gregarr bowed to Leona’burda and glanced at Vaknorbond before he was gone through the anteroom door. “Your lord seems troubled,” he said silently to Razarr. “But it is none of my business.”

  “I would not try to understand his meaning,” Razarr said as he escorted Gregarr toward the iron doors of the courtroom.

  Gregarr was brought outside the citadel of Vulzdagg and across the main road into the barracks, where his soldiers remained at rest.

  Chapter Thirty

  Only the Beginning

  “What has happened?” Gefiny demanded as two guards passed by her chamber, carrying an unconscious Dril’ead between them. Neth’tek stood beside her in her room, having been pulled out of the courtroom by his sister when Dril’ead struck their father. She now stepped out into the passage to stand before Dril’ead’s door and the guards unlatching it, Neth’tek following cautiously behind.

  “Your crazed brother attempted to kill lord Vaknorbond,” one of the guards grunted in disgust.

  “Crazed?” Gefiny exclaimed. “I know my brother to be unstable of late, but how dare you speak of him in such a way!”

  Dril’ead’s door swung open and the guards marched within with Dril, and Gefiny stepped forward to stand in the doorway. Neth’tek stood in the passage near his own door, and the guards returned out into the passage, promptly shutting the door and locking it from the outside with a pair of keys.

  “I wouldn’t get too close to him,” the other guard said to Neth’tek as they passed him by. “He’s a mad one for sure.”

  When the guards had passed into the anteroom and were gone from sight, Neth’tek slowly approached Gefiny’s side. She stared at the surface of Dril’ead’s door without blinking, and Neth’tek wondered if it was wise to approach her at that moment.

  “Pay no heed to them,” Gefiny said to Neth’tek without looking at him. “They are cowards, and deserve less than what they have. Bravery was never a thing of this realm. Only cruelty and lust is found in these caverns. They say our brother is mad, but they speak more of themselves. Dril’ead is just doing what is necessary to survive.”

  “It was Zurdagg, wasn’t it?” Neth’tek said suddenly.

  Gefiny looked at him with furrowed brows, but said nothing. Neth’tek spoke again, to make his point clear. “Ever since he was brought back wounded from Zurdagg, he has been acting strangely.”

  “What do you mean?” Gefiny asked crossly.

  Neth’tek swallowed, realizing his mistake in speaking. He did not reply.

  “If you are referring to the madness that they say has come over him, then you are greatly mistaken!” Gefiny hissed. “There is nothing wrong with our brother! If anything has happened to him on that fateful day, it was the witchcraft of Maaha! A curse is her name!”

  With those frightening words, Gefiny stormed off into her chamber and threw the door closed behind her, leaving Neth’tek alone in the empty passage.

  “Neth’tek you fool!” he cursed in annoyance. “Why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut? But at least I was correct in it being the Zurdagg incident.” He was about to return to his chamber when he was suddenly drawn to the door, and the mystery which lay within.

  The door had been locked; whether to keep people from going in or to keep Dril’ead from coming out, Neth’tek could not guess for certain. Though his curiosity took control of his mind, Neth’tek did not wish to know what it was that they were keeping it locked for. He turned from the door with slight hesitation, and returned to his own chamber, not daring to go down into the throne room and see what had been done either. He didn’t want to know. All he wanted was to forget the dealings of the day, or the past weeks, and be alone with his private thoughts.

  “With Dril’ead in such a state as this,” Neth’tek said to himself, “what now is to be done with the training of the students? Who now will train us?”

  That question remained unanswered at the present time; but Neth’tek believed that the answer remained yet to come, along with the answers of many other questions that he asked himself many times before. But for the present time, the most he could do was wait for the question of his fate to be answered; the question that he suspected to answer all his unanswered questions.

  Then he came. Vaknorbond Vulzdagg came with a swift foot down the passage toward Neth’tek. It was in that moment that Neth’tek understood perfectly what was happening.

  Vak had come to take him away from Vulzdagg; to serve a separate purpose.

  *****

  Mazoroth, and twenty others of his clan that had followed him toward Vulzdagg, and that weren’t slain in the grove of mushrooms, crossed to the steep cliff that rose high over their heads to support the ceiling of the great cavern. From this wall began the stalagmite barrier that served as another defense of Vulzdagg, and it was over this wall Mazoroth intended to go unseen and unnoticed by any of the tower guards that hid in the stalagmites, waiting for intruders such as himself and his troops.

  Mazoroth leapt upon the wall and climbed to the top, his troops following behind. The Horg chieftain’s claws scrapped at the stones, his fingers finding holds to hoist himself up and onto the top of the stalagmite wall. Once atop he knew the guards would see him, and act quickly.


  As he came to the rim of the wall, and his troops were gathering behind him in their hurried ascent, Mazoroth sucked in air as he prepared to send the signal for the rest of the army to approach.

  The guards had only just seen Mazoroth come upon the wall when he roared a tremendous roar that echoed throughout the caverns and tunnels of that realm. The alarms were sounded in the city, and the soldiers of Vulzdagg were confused at this second attack.

  “Horg’s never attack twice in one day!” soldiers were exclaiming to one another, “Unless the first was a diversion to test our weak points!”

  But before the armies of Vulzdagg were prepared, the unexpected happened.

  From the darkest corners of the Lesser Realms, monster came forth to answer the call of Mazoroth’s roar. Shrieks of excitement from various frightening and terrible monsters were heard in all directions. From what once appeared to be simple rocks and walls of stone, creatures also stepped forth. They came with sharpened teeth and claws; pinchers that could crush even the adamantine armor of The Followers.

  They descended from high perches over the Vulzdagg city, or crawled up from caverns below through narrow cracks. The city was surrounded and utterly outnumbered a hundred to one. There could not be any hope for Vulzdagg’s survival against such odds.

  Hestage Swildagg saw this from the peak of his tower. He did not frown at Vulzdagg’s doom, but, instead, grinned. As he stood and watched Vulzdagg’s destruction descending in the form of countless monsters, Maaha Zurdagg approached him from behind with her satchel in one hand and a scimitar in the other.

  “Your friend appears to be in danger,” she told him. “Do you plan to act in their defense?”

  Hestage did not turn, nor act alarmed in any way by her approach. He looked still upon Vulzdagg, and his smile only widened.