Vlad'War's Anvil
Page 31
Unhappy with J'Aryl's terse response to the things he revealed about the Sorcerer, for he was convinced the valuable information would gain greater purchase of their trust, Horbyn frowned and continued. "In time, we had your father surrounded, but Ab'Don held us back until he could see what Jeaf was doing. So we stayed hidden behind the broken down walls of the ruined city, watching the ritual the Hammer Bearer was inacting.
"Standing over a large pile of red hot coals, your father had taken off his shirt as he continued to labor. His body glistened with sweat as he held a blacksmith's tongs in his hand. After a time, he withdrew the tongs and the glowing piece of metal held in their grasp. Then turning away from the burning coals, he sat the white hot piece of metal next to another one just like it. Put together they formed the shape of a blade that sat on top of a rust-covered anvil. By the way the pieces of metal fit together, it was clear that he was busy mending a broken sword.
"Two white candles, flanking the components needed to make a hilt, told us that magic was being employed to restore the sword. Placing the tongs against the anvil, your father pulled out a knife that was tucked into his belt. Cutting his forearm deep enough to get a flow of blood going, he let it fall onto the sword; filling the fissure that lay between the two pieces of flat steel as he did. Then he reached into a pouch he had tied to his belt and pulled out what I thought was a small, round stone. After he blew his breath upon it, the stone cast off an amber glow. Since I was well-versed in the story of the quest that brought your father to haunted city of Cara Lorn, I guessed that the tiny orb was actually one of Andara's fabled tears. Once your father laid the orb on the fissure that was filled with his blood, it was clear to me that Jeaf was making a magical weapon.
"When he picked up a blacksmith's hammer that was resting near the tongs he had laid down, his chance to complete the spell he was weaving into the sword was put to an end. Though the real Hammer of Power was locked away in the Hall of Voyd- for Ab'Don didn't want to risk having Vlad'War's Child and Jeaf Oakenfel in close proximity to one another until he was sure he had your father securely in his control- Ab'Don was startled to see that Jeaf had another hammer in his possession. The surprise bred doubts. And doubts turned to action as the Sorcerer ordered the Hag forward with a wave of his hand.
"Instantly, thirty black candles began spinning about their masters' hands, including my own. Not long afterward thirty flaming shields moved against the solitary blacksmith. The Malamor followed with swords raised.
"Reacting to the approaching peril more quickly than we expected, your father dropped his hammer and grabbed hold of the two candles that stood on the black stone the anvil was resting on and pointed them at us as we pressed in upon him. Streams of blue flame leapt out of the candles to strike at Ab'Don's men. One after the other, the charging Malamor fell, each run through by bolts of blue flame that pierced their flesh with the ease of sharp steel. Only the Hag, protected by the expanding magical shields we manipulated, remained untouched.
"The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils and the screams of dying men filled my ears as misgivings about wanting to meet the Hammer Bearer filled my mind. One, two, three times the blue flame struck my shield with snake like quickness and precision. But thankfully I didn't lose control of my candle's magic. If I had, I wouldn't be talking to you today. A moment later the vein of blue flame left me and sought out other prey.
"Your father was doing something that I had never seen done before. Quite frankly, it was terrifying. And he did it without the Hammer of Power. What would have happened to us if Vlad'War's Child was present, I could only guess. But where your father lacked his hammer, the Hag were accompanied by a Sorcerer whose power has no rival in the age we all live in.
"Angered that so many Malamor had died so easily, for Ab'Don himself was a Malamor by birth, the Sorcerer commanded his own candle to come to life. Soon, a light as bright as a small sun filled Mishal Parm, and the bolts of blue light were drawn away from the horror-struck warriors who huddled behind the broken-down walls, hoping the deadly, fiery fingers wouldn't find them.
"Time and again, the super-heated blue ropes of light struck at the heart of the sun, but none touched the Sorcerer who sent his brilliant candle flying into the air. As it went, the fiery fingers went with it, stabbing and scratching at the light as they did.
"Once the Sorcerer's candle reached a point directly above your father's head, the Hag were summoned forward. With the two shafts of lethal flame locked onto Ab'Don's candle, looking like blue lightning was continually striking the sun, we realized we were free from attack. So, I and the other Hag moved swiftly forward as our fiery shields lengthened and reached upward to Ab'Don's candle that beckoned to them. Then, like a night flower closes its petals as day approaches, our elongated fiery shields closed over your father, imprisoning him within a field of Hag Magic.
"Able to still see your father's form moving about within the translucent barrier that entrapped him, desperately hoping he didn't have any other deadly tricks up his sleeve, I watched him sit the nub-like candles he wielded down on the stone where the sword's hilt lay. Though they were still lit, the magic he had used was so great it had nearly consumed their paraffin forms. Using the last gasps of his candles' abbreviated lives to hold our magic at bay, your father separated the two pieces of steal he had wanted to meld together before pushing Andara's Tear onto the stone where the candles' remaining wax flowed over it and covered the tear. When the wax grew black as the stone it spread across, the tear was hidden from sight. Still, its location was known to all who kept their eyes on your father. Later, Hag magic would extract the orb from its hiding place.
"Stepping away from the rusted anvil that sat on top of the black rock, your father spread his arms wide to show that he was unarmed and that the fight was over. As he did, he lowered his head looking exhausted and defeated while Hag Magic, enhanced and directed by the Sorcerer's candle, closed in on your father and hardened, making him look like an insect caught in crystallized tree sap."
Horbyn stopped at this point, giving the brothers time to process his words and decide where the conversation would go from here.
Horbyn wasn't surprised to see the man with the amber rings of light in his eyes nodded his head as he mulled over what he had heard. No doubt, this one is pleased that his father had killed so many before he was captured, Horbyn reasoned with more than a bit of discomfort.
The big man looked impatient like he wanted to leave immediately to find his father.
The one with the honey-colored hair and dark eyes looked off into the night shrouded city. He's wondering if the anvil and the broken blade are still there, he concluded. Good. I like this one. He's a Seeker like me, he concluded.
The dark, curly-headed brother rose to his feet to fetch more wood for the dying fire. The pragmatic one, the wizard guessed, he knows our talk has not come to an end. Good. He is in control of his emotions and his mind. I shouldn't underestimate him.
Kaylan was the one who broke the long silence. "Did Ab'Don take the anvil with him when he left?"
"No." Horbyn relaxed as the conversation followed the expected route. "Affixed to a rock that, no doubt, reaches out from Sky Master's roots, he and the Hag couldn't move it. So, after using his sorcery to thoroughly examine the anvil's magic, Ab'Don ordered it to be buried along with the bodies of the slain Malamor whose rotting corpses he hoped would desecrate the place and diminish its power."
"Can you take us to the burial site?"
"That was my plan all along."
Travyn used his index finger to push the brim of his hat up as he asked "Do you think the anvil belonged to Vlad'War?" The subtle smile that slid into place, as he waited for an answer, was not a comforting one.
"It must have been his," Kaylan ran a hand through his hair as he replied. "There's no other explanation for why Ab'Don couldn't move it. And once we find it, we need to figure out what our father was doing there."
"That's easy to guess," Horbyn's
gray eyes lit up as he spoke. "He was making a magical weapon he could use to search for the Hammer of Power that was both strong enough to protect him as he completed his task and was endowed with an ability to locate the talisman that was created on the same anvil it was."
"If this is what you think our father was doing," J'Aryl's hair was tossed about in a stronger breeze that rose up as he spoke, "how was he going about this?"
"I believe," Horbyn spoke louder than he had before as his confidence grew, "he was trying to meld Vlad'War's and Andara's magic together. That's why he broke his sword apart: so he could use Andara's Healing Magic to mend it back together again. The blood he let flow from his wrist carried the Hammer of Power's magic with it as well as an echo of his own mind and purpose. The blue light that leapt out of the candles he used to fight his captor's with made this apparent. Somehow the Hammer's magic dwells inside your father, at least some measure of it does. And if I don't miss my guess, it dwells in each of you too, though maybe in a lessor amount than what your father carries."
Kaylan looked incredulous. "What you say about my father may be true, but Andara's Tears could never be employed in such a way. Its Healing Magic could never be used to make a weapon of destruction."
"Are you sure of that," Horbyn's question was given with an uplifted eyebrow. "A surgeon's scalpel and sword aren't so dissimilar: One cuts away rooting flesh; while the other cuts down men with evil in their hearts."
"That's true." Kaylan's voice rose as he gave his rebuttle. "But when the Elf-Man used one of Andara's Tears in the Battle of Decision to destroy the enemy in a moment of desperation, the violent act obliterated the tear too. It's impossible to contain Andara's magic in such a weapon. Once the sword’s power is used to kill or harm, it would be undone along with the magic it held. And I assure you, my father would need to use the weapon more than once."
"I don't doubt that, young man," Horbyn tried not to sound patronizing as he explained. "I'm certian your father planned on using the sword as many times as needed to gain his prize. That's why he poured his blood into the shattered sword and used Vlad'War's Anvil to make his weapon, the same anvil employed to make the Hammer of Power. He was going to use the remnant of the wizard's magic, found in both his own blood and the anvil, to harness Andara's power and keep it intact beyond one violent use.
"It's my assertion that your father believed that Vlad'War's inherent nature found in his magic could control Andara's power and coax into doing what needed to be done no matter if fighting or healing required. As you know, Vlad'War could do both. It was this knowledge that led your father to do what he tried to do."
"Speaking of Andara's Tears," Travyn's question was steeped in suspicion, "remind me, how did you come to possess this one?" Travyn pointed to Kaylan who was entrusted with the tear's safe keeping.
"As I told you before," Horbyn's confidence was shaken when he was confronted by the brother he feared the most, "of all the Hag, including Ab'Don himself, I was the only one to recognize its value once the tear was extracted from its hiding place in the stone. Still, I had to bide my time until I could get my hands on it. If I was too eager to get ahold of the tear, the Sorcerer would have taken it from me just for spite’s sake."
"You said that Ab'Don didn't value it like you did." J'Aryl was troubled by an apparent discrepancy in the wizard's tale. "You also said, he asked you to tell him all you knew about Andara's Tears when he summoned you in the Hall of Voyd. How do you reconcile the two?"
"It's easy to explain." Horbyn didn't look bothered by the question. "If you recall, I said that I'm convinced the Nameless One possessed Ab'Don's body at the time of the inquiry. Even if Isham, hwo asked the question, told Ab'Don all that transpired in my interview, I doubt he could fathom the Nameless One's purpose in the matter. That's why the Sorcerer gave me the tear[EH6] after he tired of trying to access its magic on the day we captured your father.
"If the Nameless One thought I had enough knowledge of Andara's Magic to use me as a resource, Ab'Don would do no less. With the orb feeling as foul as it did, for the Sorcerer had no taste for the Healing Magic it possessed, he was only too glad to have me hold it for him. And when he placed it into my keeping, he ordered me to discover its secrets.
"As the night we captured your father deepened, while Ab'Don and the Hag tried to draw Vlad'War's Magic out of the anvil and then, after failing to do so, tried to destroy it so no one else could use its power against the Sorcerer, I slipped away to examine the orb I was given to watch over.
"Unlike the other Hag who failed to awaken the orb's magic, when I spoke a Word of Power over the sphere, it began to gently glow and I heard a voice in my head say, Healer, why are you with the Hag? Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I knew it was Andara who was speaking to me, though I knew he had died hundreds of winters before.
"I replied, I wish to be a Healer and not a Hag.
"Since I know this is true and because I have the power to grant you your wish, let it be so, the voice said in solemn tones that took my breath away.
"When Andara's proclamation was made, the amber glow enveloping the orb pulsed once and washed over me. From that time on, my cloak and candles have been changing colors until you see them as they are now, gray. No longer black. But not yet white.
"What this means is not entirely clear to me. I want to believe that I’m a Healer now and no longer a Hag. But I think my fate is in the balance. At least that's what Andara said to me before the amber glow went out. And what I choose to do for you will tilt the balance in one direction or the other."
"Andara told you to help us?" Sounding skeptical, Travyn kept his eyes riveted on the wizard, studying every nuance of his facial features, looking for something that would give a clue to the truth of the matter- a twitch, a narrowing of the eyes, a sly smile that was not entirely disguised.
"He said, The Four Winds, who come to Mishal Parm to reclaim the Elder, will blow upon the transforming flames. And on the day the two are joined, your divided heart will become one."
"By the Fires of Darkness," Ay'Roan bellowed, "what does that mean?" Though Ay'Roan's mother was the Prophetess, he disliked the vagueness that was an all too common feature in the seers' utterances. Say what you mean and mean what you say was the maxim that best explained his view of things. Everything else was just gamesmanship.
"I think it means that your arrival will stoke the fires that are being used to remake me.
Horbyn looked at each brother in turn, "You are the Four Winds, your father the Elder, and when you find him I will finally become what I've always wanted to be- a Healer only.
"As you can see, we need each other. I need you to help me save my daughter and complete my journey away from the Hag's influence, and you need me to help you find your father.
"If each of us accepts our role, the end will be the one we all want. Your father and my daughter will be free, the Hammer of Power will be reunited with its rightful master, Ab'Don's reign will come to an end, and I will finally cast off my Hag robes and become a Healer.
"So what do you say?" Horbyn looked around satisfied he had done everything in his power to gain the brother's trust, as much as was possible in one sitting. "Will you help me rescue my daughter?"
"That's a decision we all have to agree on." Kaylan spoke for the brothers. "So, we're going to have to tie you up, once again, until we're done talking."
Chapter 17: Vlad'War's Anvil
It had been incredibly difficult to dig Vlad'War's Anvil out from under the dirt the Hag had heaped on it to keep the anvil hidden. Without proper tools, the massive barrow-like pile of dirt was impossible to move with any speed. So, risking revealing him and his brother’s presence by using Candle Maker Magic, J'Aryl took out one the white candles and blew through its flame. Amplifying his breath a thousand fold, the dirt was removed layer after layer until the stones that were heaped up on top of the anvil were exposed. In the process, the candle was entirely spent by the arduous task it was asked to do.
"You're woefully ill-equipped to enter Ar Warl," Horbyn warned the brothers after taking inventory of the weapons they had at their disposal.
"Even with the touch of Vlad'War's Magic that winds its way through your bodies," the wizard looked concerned as he spoke, "a brace of candles and the swords and long knives you carry don't stand a chance against the Hag horde and the myriad black candles that serve them. That's not even taking into account the Malamor and the other peoples who serve the Sorcerer out of fear, greed, or convenience.
Four against tens of thousands... no, hundreds of thousands... what realistic hope do you have of reaching your goal? If we were only going to save my daughter, there is only the slimmest of chances that we could pull the rescue off. But to free the Hammer Bearer who has the Sorcerer's full attention... that would be impossible.
"You need to have more power at your disposal." A strange light shone in Horbyn's eyes. His mouth took on an unusual smile as he carefully explained, "Your father knew that. That's why he was calling on the remnant of Vlad'War's Magic that still lives in Mishal Parm and dared to do something incomprehensible- to meld Vlad'War's Magic together with Andara's in a sword that could... Well who knows what it would be capable of doing? But, as sure as the sun rises and sets, we need to find out if we want to free your father."
Once the dirt was blown away, moving the stone blocks was much more easy to do than expected: one, because the stones were uniformly placed on top of the anvil; two, the Malamor didn't take time to gather rubble to mix in with the rectangular-shaped blocks, and third, the brothers found the stones to be unusually light for their size.