"There ye are, brave lad," she said. She scurried over to a table and came back with a tray of meat, cheese, and ale.
"Must've gone to heaven then," Dowgen smiled, draining the goblet. "Cause only an angel would wake me with a good slog."
She blushed and laughed. "There's more drink for ye, but not till ye've eaten. Ye've been sleeping so long I wasn't sure ye'd wake. And yeer as skinny as a broomstick."
Suddenly alarmed, he sat up. "How long have I been asleep, kind ma’am?"
"About two days yet," she said. "Just eat and rest, and I'll fetch the mayr and some more ale for ye."
The mayr? Dowgen wanted to see the king, or at least first, prince Darblin. He'd grown up far to the south and much deeper in the kingdom, near the grand cavern. He'd gone to school with both of the Rockheart princes but decided he would have to settle for a city mayr now, knowing that as soon as the Rockhearts received his uncle's message, they would have the help of the royals.
Thoughts of Pranty, worried and waiting, crossed his mind, and he found he wasn't so worried about the Rockhearts. He was told the dwarves form neighboring caverns had been arriving armed and ready and thought maybe waiting on the king wasn't such a good idea. At any moment, the trolls that left the camp could return, and if they did, breaking the others out of their cages might be impossible.
He sat up and started pulling on the clothes that sat cleaned on the chair by the table. But with only his britches on, the door opened and an old dwarf whose beard dragged the floor entered. He was followed by the old mother carrying a tray with two goblets on it.
"I told ye to eat, youngin," she snapped crossly. "No ale for ye till you do. Here, Mayr Bamble." She handed him one of the goblets.
Reluctantly, Dowgen shoved the food in his mouth in an attempt to get it all down before she and the goblet left the room. Mercifully, she sat it on the table and indicated for the mayr not to let him have any until he finished his plate. She then closed the door behind her, leaving them alone to talk.
"Ye done well, Dowgen, is it?" The mayr handed him the goblet. "We've gotten a shaft dug nearly to the shaft you spoke of when ye came in. We need you to come look at the rock, if yeer up to it."
Hope filled him, and Dowgen took another bite of food and a sip. "Yes, sir. I'm up to anything you got going, but the tunnel I came from only goes up into one cage. There be five cages in all and some dwarves will be working the forges, not in them."
"Our chief digger is and old wily one," said the mayr. "Once he's popped up in the first cage, I think we'll be able to branch out the tunnels to the others." The old dwarf took a long pull of his drink then belched loudly. "Where was I?"
"Branching tunnels," Dowgen reminded.
"Yes, yes." Yhe mayr scratched at his beard "As far as vengeance goes, me thinks the Rockhearts will have to make them decisions, but to get yon dwarves out of the forges, we might have to do some troll killing. But that's not the worry of the moment, is it?" He banged his goblet down and looked hopefully at the door. The old mother came in with a scowl and a pitcher.
"Mayr Bamble, if you break my wares I’ll knot yeer head," she barked. "I heard ye belchin for more. I'm just old and slow." Then to Dowgen she asked, "Are you still hungry?"
"Maybe a little," he indicated that he'd eaten more of his food and held out his goblet. She poured it full with ale from the pitcher and took his plate. "I'll be right back then."
The old mayr belched again, louder than before, and the old mother shook her head as she pulled the door closed behind her. Only a moment passed before she returned. She handed Dowgen another plate, and after filling the mayr's goblet again, she set the pitcher down where Dowgen could reach it but the Mayr could not. Then, with a satisfied smirk of defiance, she left again.
"Eat yeer fill, lad," Mayr Bamble said, rising to get the pitcher. "We've got to get ye down the tunnel to look at the rock. If we don't get to the first cage, we won't be getting anywhere, will we?"
Before the mayr fully rose, Dowgen topped off his goblet, and then set the pitcher where his elder could reach it.
"When do we go?"
"We be goin’ nowhere," the mayr said. "It's ye who be goin’ with the diggers." The old dwarf led Dowgen out of the room down a few corridors and into the larger cavern that contained a small town. He introduced Dowgen to a group of three dirty young dwarves who, by the way they were shuffling their feet and scratching their heads, had been waiting for some time. They hurried Dowgen out of the main cavern through a series of old tunnels, and after several hours, Dowgen began to smell fresh earth and newly cut rock. When they finally reached the dig site, one of them lit an oil lantern and headed in.
Dowgen marveled how you could travel twice as far underground in the same amount of time you could go above. In a tunnel, there were no mountains to climb, no forests to negotiate, and no icy winds to slow you. In the underground, there was the occasional hole to avoid, or a soft spot to circumvent, but fewer obstacles and usually a direct line cut to where you were going.
"They want you back in town, sir," a young dwarf out of breath from running said excitedly. "Word from the Rockhearts has come."
Dowgen wasted no time starting back and hoped what he would hear would be good. The whole time he churned his little legs, thoughts of Pranty and her goodbye kiss filled his head. He let them fill his heart with hope and used the energy they gave him to keep pace until finally he had to slow to a walk due to the fatigue brought on by months of malnutrition.
When he finally reached the larger cavern, he found that it was Gruval Rockheart, the second prince of the kingdom, with a large escort of well-armed dwarves who awaited. Gruval embraced him as an old friend, not as a prince and his subject.
"We was already on our way, Dowgen," Gruval said with a clearly forced smile. "I didn't know ye was with those trapped when the passage caved, and I only got back from Jolin a turn or so me self. I would have come much sooner had I known the blasted trolls had me kinsmen."
"Prince Gruval, they got Uncle Stonecrusher, Little H, and me Pranty." He had to look away for the tears came like a flood. "They killed me pa and many others." He wiped his eyes after a moment and looked up, letting anger take over. "It's a slap in the face of our people, them making us slaves. They whipped old Pritch and his wife to death `cause they was too old to work the forges, and-and—"
"Enough, Dowgen," Gruval said angrily. He turned to a group of dwarves nearby. "Get this hero something to drink and get all ye wives to cookin’. We have much to plan and me thinks better on a full belly."
"We will get `em back, Dowgen," Gruval said to him directly, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Ye got me word as a Rockheart."
They feasted and planned long into the night. Runners went to and from the tunneling dwarves constantly, bringing word of progress. By morning, they not only had a plan to free the prisoners, but to exact some revenge on the trolls as well.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Nixy tried to scream out a warning, but no sound would come. A warning wasn't necessary, though, for the demon's evil radiated like heat from the sun, and when she turned, all of her companions were staring at it with wide eyes and slacked jaws.
It was Darblin who finally broke the spell of terror that had stilled them all. "Take me axe, Hannival Hammerhead," he said solemnly. "If I don’t make it back, it be yours. You have honored your people and served me well. Carry it with pride."
The gravity of what his prince was saying hit Big H, and his eyes welled over with tears. "Let me go, my prince," he begged. "This isn't right. I'm supposed to protect you."
"BAH!" Said Darblin. He nearly fell over when he took a step to give the other dwarf a hug. "Tell me brother and me people of me deeds." He turned to Nixy, who had tears streaming down her face as well. "I think yeer man still be alive, pretty lady. Yon snake didn't eat its own head." And with that, he threw Big H's hammer over his shoulder and started off across the muddy basin toward the ruins.
The de
mon was yelling and smashing trolls under his big clawed feet as he sank to his sharp spiked knees. With each step he took across the muddy basin, he sank further. It looked like he might be stuck for a moment, but then he unfolded a set of wings that were far too small for his body and began flapping them violently. They provided enough lift to pull him out of the muck, but not enough for him to actually fly. Pharark used them to take long, leaping strides and bounce his great bulk across the lake bed without sinking or getting stuck.
"Hurry, Prince Darblin," Nixy called out as Suclair sent another fiery blast. This one fell short of the demon, but ignited one of the trolls near him and distracted him for a moment. Pharark's eyes moved from the smoldering troll to the cause of the flames. His arm raised and a fat pudgy finger pointed directly at Suclair. A sizzling gray streak pulsed out of his digit and pummeled her violently, feet over head back down the hill that led to their camp.
A pair of trolls, breathing heavily from exertion, came out of the forest from behind the group. Another could be seen skirting the old lake shore toward them from the distance. Behind them, the two trolls swung branches, and Cryelos responded just in time with a ducking sideways leap toward his bow. The move saved his skull, if only by a hair's breadth.
Big H wasn't so lucky, or maybe the troll that hit him was the unlucky one. The arm-thick piece of timber cracked into the dwarf with a sickening crunch, and instantly reopened the claw gouges just starting to heal on his face. Big H didn't falter, though. He took the blow full on, and then swung Darblin's axe with a mighty heave that cleaved clean through one of the troll's legs and halfway into the other. Before it even hit the ground, the dwarf yanked the axe free and let out a primal scream.
Nixy drew her sword and charged hard and fast at the troll who was coming after Cryelos. Her first blow made a deep red slash across the troll's side. Big H was already swinging at it, too, so Cryelos rolled out of the way and readied an arrow to loose at the troll approaching along the lake's old shore.
Darblin was pumping his little legs as fast as the mud shoes would allow, and still he was only halfway to the ruins. Pharark had just reached the old river channel and was attempting to wade across the waist deep water. It didn't look as if he noticed Darblin yet, for to anyone who didn't know what he was about, he might have resembled a rolling, moss-covered rock or some malformed frog.
When the troll turned to face Nixy, Big H got up under it and with a downward chop took one of the troll's feet off by hitting it in the shin at an angle. As soon as it fell Nixy turned and ran down the hill where she'd last seen Suclair falling.
She found the charred girl in a loose pile of rocks and boulders. She was trying to get to her feet, and after seeing she was still alive and not mortally wounded, Nixy was overcome with relief. She helped Suclair back up the hill to rejoin the battle.
They were met halfway by Cryelos, who said he'd seen more trolls coming through the woods. He helped Nixy get Suclair in a semi-protected position and told her to try and slow down the demon while the rest of them fought off the others.
No sooner had the words left Cryelos' mouth than they were surrounded by a half-dozen trolls trying to herd them back toward the edge of the lake bed. There would be no escape through the forest, not that they were wanting to flee.
Darblin was fifty paces away from the altar and furiously charging onward. The demon was three times that distance away, but moving much faster than the dwarf. Pharark seemed to notice Darblin now and raised his finger toward him. A sizzling blast of gray shot forth, but an explosion of mud and muck right in front of the demon covered him in black, goopy silt, causing his pulse of energy to go high. Only the tips of Darblin's wild mossy hair were burned away, and Suclair gave a little yelp of accomplishment for causing the miss.
Big H shot up under one of the trolls, closing in on them. Cryelos fired two arrows into another one. Nixy lunged the tip of her sword deep into the groin of yet another, and within moments, it was three against three instead of six against three. The odds were only even for a moment, though, because more trolls were coming down the lakeshore and through the forest.
Suclair's blast of mud blinded Pharark. The angry demon displayed his rage with an ear-shattering scream of hatred and disgust. He cleared the silt away from his bright crimson eyes and Darblin took full advantage of the moment, closing on the ruins so quickly that the demon was forced to charge headlong on all fours with his little wings flapping away to try and beat the little muddy moss ball to the altar.
Once he reached the crumbled structure, Darblin found the mud shoes almost impossible to use on the flat marble surface. He slipped and slid his way toward the altar, and out of the corner of his eyes, could see the demon leaping forward like some giant hairless dog.
Darblin had no doubt that he was about to die, but he wasn't about to die without finishing what he started. He knew his kingdom, and his father's legacy would be safe in his brother's hands. They'd probably be better off than in his own. Darblin knew the time for his people to come out from underground had come, and he lacked the diplomacy to deal with other nations, other people, and other races. His only regret as he slid to a stop in front of the altar with Big H's hammer high over his head, was that he wouldn't have a chance to say goodbye to the brother he loved so much.
Pharark's foreclaw swept swiftly down and across toward Darblin and the sapphire. The look on his face was one of raging glee.
Suclair watched on but had exhausted herself with the effort of her mud-splattering blast. Big H had taken several heavy blows to the head and body from the trolls. The final impact was directly on the top of his head as if he were a carpenter's nail. He finally collapsed, but not into the ground. He landed on top of the half-dozen trolls he had felled with his prince's axe.
Nixy was torn from shoulder to elbow from a blow she'd taken. The jagged piece of wood was still hooked in her skin. With a violent yank, she was pulled off balance and almost let go of her sword.
Cryelos, while not physically injured, was out of breath as well as arrows. He was fighting off the trolls by himself with only his short sword.
Nixy regained her feet and did what she could, but she was forced to use her left hand to wield her blade because of her injured sword arm. Unable to attack now, she was reduced to doing little more than defending herself and Big H’s prone form.
Darblin didn't see the sun momentarily eclipsed as he brought his hammer down, nor did he see the claw that was only a few feet away and closing on him with tremendous speed. His full concentration was on making sure he destroyed the Sapphire of Souls with the one blow he had. He knew for certain was that he would not get another chance.
Emerald’s claws ripped across the side of Pharark's body, tearing long, jagged gashes in the demon's purple skin. Black blood poured from the wounds, and Pharark's clawed hand paused just long enough that Darblin was able to bring down the heavy hammer and smash the Sapphire of Souls before being swept into the demon's grasp.
A sound that was not sound, but a concussion of unimaginable magnitude, blasted powdery sapphire dust outward from the hammer blow in an expanding ring. For an instant, time stopped. Everything that wasn't rooted to the ground was swept over and thrown off its feet, save for the demon who was large and heavy enough to withstand the force.
No sooner did the thumping boom recede, did the demon’s scream slice through the day like a hot knife through butter. In his angry fit, Pharark flexed and squeezed, and shook Darblin in his fist. Blood ran down his wrist and arm, then dripped away from his knotted elbow.
Another sound was heard then. It was Big H. Seeing his prince squashed like a plum in a huge child's hand drove him into a frenzy. He rolled to his feet and began hacking and chopping every troll he could reach.
The events stunned the trolls as much as it did the companions. Cryelos took full advantage and stabbed several of the trolls before nearly tripping over Nixy, who was on her back, looking into the sky with eyes full of wonder. Cryelos fol
lowed her gaze and was surprised to see Braxton, and what appeared to be a little girl, saddled and riding the sparkling dragon that was about to attack Pharark again.
Pharark was ready for the wyrm this time, and he sent a blast of his gray magical energy up into its bulky green body.
Emerald tilted and dodged, but was unable to keep from being hit by the blast, though he was able to avoid being knocked out of the sky.
All across the lake bed below, an amazing thing was happening that nobody, save for Braxton and Chureal, could see. Flecks of sapphire dust glittered all around the lake bed and beyond. Tiny green sprouts were pushing up through the mud and silt, and a lush green carpet, very similar to the one Braxton recently dreamt about, formed over the muddy ooze.
He managed to pull the long shard of blood crystal they’d gathered that morning, from the saddle pack, just before the demon's blast rocked the dragon and nearly hurled him out of the saddle. Emerald was hurt, Braxton could tell, and it was all the dragon could do to keep from falling like a rock from the sky.
"Get me over him," Braxton yelled. "And then take Chureal clear."
"Yesss." The dragon hissed painfully.
"What are you going to do?" Chureal asked when Braxton moved his leg over so that he sat side-saddle.
"Look," he pointed to where he saw Suclair's bald head shining. She sent a weak blast of flames at a troll. "When you're on the ground, go to them. Tell them to protect Emerald." He kissed her cheek. "Can you do that?"
"I can," she answered with a severe look of concern. "What are you—" but it was too late. Emerald had just flown back over the demon who reared up to swipe his claw at the wyrm.
Since Pharark was reaching up, his giant chest was left wide open and exposed. Braxton, with the long crimson shard pointed downward, jumped from the saddle, aiming the blood crystal directly at the demon's heart.
Sapphire of Souls (Fantastica Book 2) Page 15
