Vlad'War's Anvil

by Rex Hazelton

  ****

  "Crooked Finger?" Kolosha asked the question. Having walked through Cara Lorn, the haunted city the Lorn Wraiths vigilantly guarded, having seen Dragon's Tooth that imperiously rose above the ruins, then hearing about Ab'Don's magical device that kept the Prophetess' body alive while her spirit was transported to the Warl of the Dead and to the Nameless Evil who lurked in the shadows that covered half of its expanse, Kolosha's interest was fully piqued.

  "The iron branch that was used to pierce Muriel's heart has been given the name Crooked Finger," Horbyn tried to hide his excitement as he explained. "This simple metal rod is as important as the Hammer of Power since the Sorcerer believes he can control the Prophetess with its magic. That's why he took it with him when he fled after the Battle of the Temple of Oake Tree. In his thinking, having the chance to create Crooked Finger made his forray into the Nyeg a success."

  "You think he can control my mother with this thing?" Kaylan frowned as he spoke.

  "He thinks he can," Horbyn firmly replied. "Who's to say otherwise? And if Ab'Don succeeds in influencing your mother in even to the slightest degree, he will seek to nullify the magic she can bring to the battlefield by disrupting its flow."

  "He stabbed her in the heart with an iron branch?" Poroth hated that so much depended on magic. Sharp steel was what he prefered. "And Muriel still lives?"

  "Yes." Horbyn struggled to corral his emotions as he spoke of the thing he planned on using to raise his mother from the dead.

  It wouldn't do him any good to show the degree of passion he had for Crooked Finger. To do so might lead some to guestion his motives for the plan he was about to propose. "A piece of her life was transfered to the iron branch when it was plunged into her chest. The Hag, speculating on what would happen to the Prophetess if Ab'Don destroys Crooked Finger, think enough of her life force would be lost to leave her a shadow of her former self."

  "Then why hasn't he destroyed it already?" Poroth asked the obvious question.

  "As I said," Horbyn looked put out by Poroth's naivete, "Ab'Don wants to control Muriel, so he can use her to cripple the Nyeg and weaken the Hammer Bearer at the moment Jeaf Oakenfel needs his strength the most. This is still the Sorcerer's thinking even though the Hammer of Power is now in his hands. Since he wants options, Lord Ab'Don wouldn't throw away the knife he's made just because he found a sword. Besides, prematurely destroying Crooked Finger could give the Candle Makers the time they need to restore the Prophetess to health. To do so in the heat of battle would prevent this from happening."

  "What about Travyn and myself?" Kaylan asked. "Can Crooked Finger affect us since our spirits traveled with our mother to the Warl of the Dead as you know? Has that thing taken a piece of our lives too?"

  "Did Crooked Finger pierce your heart?"

  "No. but it did pierce the heart that fed us."

  "Are we in danger?" Travyn's eyes glowed so brightly that the Brie'Shen were sent to murmuring again.

  "You’re in danger by being in Ar Warl."

  "Obviously." Travyn's sarcasm was bred by his impatience. "And if we take a walk in the woods, we might twist our ankles, if in the mountains, we might fall off a cliff. Old Man, don't patronize me. Out with it."

  "Yes, Crooked Finger poses a threat to you that needs to be removed. That's why I asked Kaylan to go with me to Hall of Voyd, so we can steal the dangerous talisman."

  "Why can't I go with you as we agreed?"

  "Don't think I lack respect for you." Horbyn's usually watery eyes took on an icey aspect. "Far from it, I think you bring as much to the table as Kaylan does. In fact, I know your fighting skills surpass his. No offense Kaylan."

  "None taken." A wry smile gave a hint to Kaylan's thoughts. Let them think what they want. Brothers are competitive by nature, and he was no exception to rule.

  "Travyn, your sword arm will be needed to free your father. The stealth required to steal Crooked Finger is the kind of thing elves would be good at, and from what I've heard, Kaylan is more elf than man. Do you follow?

  "I need a thief, a pick-pocket who can grab the prize and then escape without anyone knowing he was there. But even then, I'll need a distraction if I'm to suceed at pilfering the Sorcerer's pocket. That's where you and the others come in."

  Placing his hand on Travyn's shoulder, Horbyn went on to explain. "When you attack Chylgroyd's's Keep, Ab'Don's attention will be drawn away from the Hall of Voyd and Crooked Finger. If I don't miss my guess, he'll rush off to make certain the Hammer Bearer isn't freed. That's when we'll pick his pocket. And that's why I only need Kaylan to pull the theft off.

  "With my knowledge of the Hall of Voyd, and because my defection is still hidden from the Hag, Kaylan and I will be able to slip in and out unnoticed as the commotion your raid creates draws the Sorcerer's attention to the Hammer of Power. With you numbered among those rescuing your father, the noise that tumult makes will crescendo to a roar."

  After letting Horbyn have his say, Travyn spoke in even tones that conveyed his resolve. "Old Man," he said as the amber rings in his eyes glowed out from the shadow his hat's brim cast. "Your argument has an inherent flaw."

  "Young Man," Horbyn replied with a patronizing voice that conveyed his dislike for the way Travyn said Old Man, "what would that be?"

  "Me." Travyn's smile was an unfriendly one. "We agreed that I was coming with you. Why try to push me aside now? I'm going with my brother. And no amount of talking will change my mind.

  “No matter how clever you think you are, there'll come a time when you'll be glad to have my sword arm around. Besides, you yourself have told us that it's a fool's errand to argue over which is more important: the Hammer of Power or Crooked finger. If it's true the fire-blasted branch holds a measure of power over Kaylan and me, as you say it does over our mother, than I'd let the Fires of Darkness consume me before I'll let you run off with Kaylan without me coming along."

  Mar’Gul interrupted. "The matter is settled. Four brothers, two tasks, two brothers per task."

  Horbyn could be an asset, she thought. But an uncontrolled asset might prove to be no asset at all.

  ****

  The die had been cast, the plans settled. The morning following a day of preparartion would see that the agreed upon strategy swung into motion: Horbyn, Kaylan and Travyn would set off on a quest to capture Crooked Finger; Brie'Shen riders would be sent out to inform the clans about the happenings; the Neflin would make certain their kinsman were made aware of the news; Ay'Roan and J'Aryl would join a comapny of men and elves that were set on freeing Jeaf Oakenfel.

  All seemed to be in order except that Mar’Gul was sending Dog along with Horbyn and the twins. This surprised everyone who thought the two were inseparable.

  Horbyn had accepted Dog's company with more than a hint of annoyance, as his heated objections revealed, for he recognized that the hound was no ordinary canine, that he was much more than just an intelligent beast. His Powers of Intuition told him Dog was a threat to him claiming Crooked Finger as his own.

  Mar’Gul spent portions of the following day with the Neflin, the Brie'Shen, the Oakenfel brothers, and with Horbyn who she was seen arguing with. Dog was still the hot topic.

  First, the erstwhile Hag tried to prevent Dog from going along with him and the twins. Later, when he realized his objections were going unheeded, Horbyn's irritation turned to anger when Mar’Gul was short with his questions about the hound that would help him understand why Dog's presence was needed. In truth, he wanted to ascertain the large, wiry-haired beast's ability to hinder his bid to get his hands on Crooked Finger. The magic he felt residing beneath the hound's wirey, gray fur made this a necessary precaution.

  To Horbyn’s chagrin, he learned little about the big hound. Taking into account that oral tradition placed Dog, or other beasts that looked like him, with all of the past Mar'Gul's made the wizard wonder if he was an animal at all. Maybe Dog was a talisman clothed in flesh and blood? Maybe he was an extension of Mar’Gul?
Or was Mar’Gul an extension of Dog? If the later were true, he might be the fount from which their magic flowed. Either way, Dog would certainly possess the capacity to stymie the plans Horbyn had for Crooked Finger.

  Brie'Shen outriders were sent forth as Mar’Gul talked to her kinsmen. Later, she was heard repeating ancient prophecies to the Lorn Elves that told of their forefather's belief that the Neflin would one day reclaim their former glory and the magic that had made them great.

  The Neflin, who had volunteered to go with the Oakenfels to help free their father, were seen with their families in what everyone knew might be the last time they would be together. Numbered among the family members were many who had the injuries sustained in the recent earthquake mended as the brothers used swords that had been invested with Andara's magic to heal the wounds. Infants were bounced on their doting father's knees, older girls and boys were engaged in mock sword play with fathers who gave them the wooden swords they wielded, stories the warriors had been told in their youth were passed on to the next generation, and, when all was said and done, husbands and wives sought out privacy where they could partake of the fruit of each others presence for what could be the last time. Though tears were not permitted, even among the youngest children, it was a wonder to behold the normally reserved Neflin showing such affection for one another.

  As the day progressed, Bacchanor, Bala, Kolosha, and Mar’Gul, with Dog at her side, came to the brothers to discuss the potential powers that lay hidden in the swords they had forged on Vlad'War's Anvil. The way Jeaf had summoned the Hammer of Power's magic was refered to in hopes that this would provide clues to how the swords' power could be unlocked. What each had personally seen when Jeaf unleashed Vlad'War's Child's magic was rehearsed in detail. Because Bacchanor had been with the Hammer Bearer in the days leading up to the Battle of Decision, and had been with him as he and the Prophetess went to confront the demon who lived in the Cave of Forgetfulness, he had more to say than the others, much more, since back then the Brown Wizard was numbered among those who mentored the Hammer Bearer, teaching him the ways of the Warl's Magic.

  The properties found in Andara's Tears were delineated as the company speculated on how this brand of magic might affect the swords when it came time to fight. In due course, Horbyn was summoned to the meeting so he could share his thoughts on the matter. After all, not only was he present when the swords were made, he was the one who told the brothers what he had seen as their father tried to meld Andara and Vlad'War's magic together back in Mishal Parm before Ab'Don took Jeaf as his prisoner.

  In the end, it was concluded that Jeaf unlocked the secrets to the Hammer of Power's magic with his Powers of Intuition that reacted to the crisis at hand. Since Vald'War's Child had a history of acting on its own volition to take appropriate measures needed to confront the various situations it encountered, such as assuming the appearance of a common blacksmith's tool to avoid unwanted attention or dispensing its magic to the Hammer Bearer without Jeaf initiating the process when it perceived the presence of danger, the notion that the Hammer was somehow responding to Jeaf's Powers of Intuition was thought likely.

  The brother's had already accessed Andara's healing power in the recent earthquake's aftermath, proving that melding the tears into the blades steel hadn't diminished their effectiveness. The questions that remained to be answered were those that would tell the Oakenfels how much of Vlad'War's Magic had been transmitted into the swords that were reconstitued atop ohis anvil and whether Andara's benign nature would diminish Vald'War's more aggressive tendencies.

  ****

  Later that night, when an uneasy quite had finally settled over Lan’Fon, the tension-laden stillness was disturbed by an eery moaning sound that didn't come from any of the Neflin who were still recovering from the wounds they sustained during the earthquake. Nor did it come from a Neflin mourning the lost of a loved one who had finally succumbed to wounds too grievous to recover from. Nor was it a child's complaining cry. It was something different, something weirdly threatening. Something that made the Oakenfels reach for their weapons. But before they had time to react, the flap to the hut they were given to sleep in opened and the head of a Lorn Elf poked into the room and said, "Travyn, there's someone here to see you."

  The commotion that the incessant moaning sound had stirred up increased as Travyn stepped out of the mud-covered hut and faced a large beast that moved stealthily towards him. It was somekind of cat, one as big as a pony.

  Impossible to see the great beast's green and black-mottled coloring under the cover of night, the hulking creature looked like it was coming for him. A single Neflin walked beside what Travyn correctly quessed was a moan cat, though he had never heard the massive predators hunted outside of the Lorn Fast Swamp's environs.

  But this one wasn't hunting. It was accompanying the shadowy stranger like a hunting dog follows its master's lead. The fact that the Neflin weren't attacking the dangerous beast made this scenerio a plausable one.

  "By the Fires of Darkness," Ay'Roan swore as he stepped out to join his brother, "what is that?"

  "It's a moan cat," Kaylan said as he exited the hut. Compelled by a growing interest in all things having to do with the Lorn Fast Swamp, he and Travyn had asked the Neflin to share everything they knew about the foul, water-laden place. Moan cats were included in the sharing. "Stay alert! The beast is dangerous."

  "I don't mean the beast." Ay'Roan corrected Kaylan's errant assumption. Having sat in on some of the discussions the twins had iniated, he wasn't completely ignorant of the kinds of animals that made their home in the swamp. "What's that walkin beside the cat?"

  "She's not an IT" Travyn corrected his brother as misgivings over the tryst he had with the strange Neflin he met in the Lorn Fast Swamp rose up in him, though the memory of the warm encounter lessened his qualms more than he expected. "Nor is she a wraith or a Hag or..." Travyn was painfully aware that his expertise on the matter was giving away more than he wished. "Can't you see that? She's a Neflin."

  "You act like you know her?" Kaylan replied with a frown. Putting two and two together, he figured his brother met the female on his last trip to the Lorn Fast Swamp. With the dangerous moan cat moving effortlessly towards them, its muscles tightening and loosing as it went, this seemed a safe guess. But why the Neflin wanted too see his brother, and why Travyn had neglected to speak of her, were questions he wanted answered.

  "We met in the swamp." Travyn tersely replied. After an uneasy silence that begged for more, Travyn told his brothers that the approaching Neflin was Kotalik's daughter and Kolosha's niece.

  "Ahhh." That made sense. But it didn't keep Kaylan from formualting a brace of questions he was wise enough to shelve for the time being.

  Stepping out of the hut, J'Aryl stared at the apparoaching animal that kept making the eery sound its kind was known for. "Is it a pet?" He asked his question after noting the villagers' uneasy acceptance of the beast's presence.

  "Travyn," Lamarik took him in with large almond-shaped eyes that didn't dart to any of the others, not even for the most cursory of glances, "I'm here."

  "Lamarik," Travyn replied. "Why have you come?" His feelings of discomfort over the strange reunion were being smothered by the exotic Neflin's presence: by the sound of her voice, by the graceful way she walked, by her smile that was easily seen despite the dark.

  "I've come to honor our agreement and to see you again."

  The word again renewed Travyn's discomfort. That was until she drew closer and her nearness compelled him to say, "I'm glad you came." Then he added, "But I'm not certain how coming here honors our agreement?"

  "I'm going with you," Lamarik said as she placed a hand on the moan cat. Immediately the huge beast sat on its haunches and watched the Neflin as she stepped up to Travyn.

  "I wasn't aware our agrrement included you coming with me. I thought it meant you were on call if I needed you."

  Lamarik's smile turned suddenly dangerous as she repsonded. "
On call? Who do you think I am? I'm certainly not one who's waiting to be called."

  Finding that he was bothered that he had insulted Lamarik, Travyn replied, "I didn't mean to offend you, nor did I want to trivialize our agreement. I fully intend to help you find your father, once mine is freed."

  "And what do I do until then," Lamarik's eyes gave off a hint of amber light as she spoke, a color that first appeared after she and Travyn had gotten acquainted, "wait for you to call me? Well that's not going to happen. I certainly thought our agreement meant more to you than that." Lamarik stepped close enough for Travyn to feel the warmth of her breath. "For my part, I'm not leaving your side."

  "What agreement?" Ay'Roan gave voice to the confusion he felt. "Travyn how do you know this Neflin? And why does she presume she can go with us?"

  Lamarik took note of Travyn's brothers for the first time. Looking Ay'Roan over she sniffed the air like she was trying to catch his scent. The moan cat did the same thing before the beast locked eyes with the Neflin like they comparing notes on what they had smelled.

  "If she comes, surely she's not going to bring that beast with her?" J'Aryl went straight to the point. "Just think of the problems the cat would cause."

  "Would you leave your horse behind?" Lamarik's ears went rigid as she spoke. "How about your sword?"

  "My horse won't draw the kind of attention your beast will. And I can hide my sword benath my clock."

  "I can hide A'Kadar easier than you can hide your sowrd. The shadows that fill the forest will do better than your cloak. The trees, underbrush, and every stone that reaches up to the sky will make certain that the shadows don't fail."

  "Travyn," Ay'Roan's resonate voice rang out, "Who's the Neflin?"

  "She's Kolosha's niece."

  "You said that already." Ay'Roan looked at his brother and then at the Lorn Elf who seemed curiously comfortable in his presence. "Who is she to you?"

  The light went out of Travyn's eyes as he quickly scanned his brothers. "She's a friend."