The Grim Wanderer

by James Wolf

  Baek’s mouth was gaping wide open in shock. Taem felt shaken to his core. Everything Forgrun believed had been smashed to pieces.

  ‘But did you not hunt Calagar down?’ Taem asked Hirandar.

  ‘I, and many others of The Order,’ Hirandar said, ‘searched everywhere for Calagar. Even with the help of the last of the Sodan, we could not find the “Lord of Storms”.’

  ‘He might be dead?’ Baek said.

  ‘Not likely,’ Hirandar murmured, ‘I believe he is the highest Maliven in Hathlore. A dark and evil spider, at the centre of a great web, pulling strings that cover the whole world.’

  Taem felt himself shudder with dread, and he could see Baek and Forgrun were also shaken by mention of such evil.

  ‘And you have taken no pupil since?’ Baek asked.

  ‘No,’ Hirandar said sadly. ‘I would not risk unleashing another Calagar upon Hathlore.’

  ‘What about Amos?’ Taem said. ‘You have just taken him as your apprentice?’

  ‘Yes, Hirandar nodded, ‘it was a moment of recklessness on my part, but I want Amos to be a wizard. If that means taking him as my next apprentice after Calagar, then so be it. But Amos will never be a Lord of Storms. He has only one tenth of the power, and – more importantly – Amos has a good heart.’

  ‘We should be goin’ ter kill this Wizard, Isornel!’ Forgrun stood up and reached for his axe.

  ‘It’s not that simple, Forgrun,’ Hirandar held up a pacifying hand. ‘What are we going to kill Isornel for? We cannot just kill him for mentioning the name of a known Maliven. There have been Dark rumours swirling around Isornel for years, but even with those I cannot condone his killing. It would not be right.’

  Forgrun’s grimace said he disagreed.

  ‘I worry for Balthus,’ Logan said, ‘he stands trapped between two poisonous snakes, unsure which way to go.’

  ‘Yes,’ Hirandar considered for a moment. ‘But perhaps, he is not so unwilling to be charmed by the snakes. Perhaps, over time, his will has been broken, and he too has become one of them.’

  Taem saw Logan’s eyes go grim and his jaw muscles tense up.

  ‘Balthus is a friend and ally,’ Logan said angrily. ‘And a great warrior.’

  ‘A strong body does not make a strong mind,’ Hirandar said sagely. ‘Look beyond the battle brother and into his heart.’

  ‘His heart is good,’ Logan murmured, as he held up a fist to emphasise how much he believed that. ‘I have seen Balthus risk his life to save others, many times. What greater goodness is there than that?’

  A tense silence followed, as Hirandar did not answer. Taem found the strain palpable. Baek’s lowered eyes darted around, and Forgrun began to hum a nervous tune.

  ‘It is your gift, Logan,’ Hirandar said softly, ‘to always see the best in people, even those who cannot see the best in themselves. I do not trust Balthus. He is not a moral man. Never has been, never will be. He would betray us.’

  ‘Enough of this!’ Logan said angrily. ‘You of all people are free to speak your mind, but you go too far!’

  There was a loud knocking at the Sceptre Room’s secret door. Baek sighed in relief. Forgrun leant back in his chair. And Taem felt thankful for the interruption. He had never before seen his guardians argue. Disagree maybe, but never shout.

  ‘Please forgive the intrusion,’ Bessie said formally. ‘You have two guests, the ones you were expecting.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Hirandar said as she stood up, ‘send them in.’

  Behind Bessie, a tall olive-skinned woman came forward. Taem saw the tanned woman had long brown hair and blue eyes. She had a striking face, with prominent cheek bones and a sharp nose. She was garbed in a brown leather waistcoat that bared her tanned arms, and brown leather trousers. She strode into the room as if she owned the place, moving with an athleticism that said she was a warrior. Her brown hair was tied back by a woven leather headband, and she had similar armbands, of bound leather and gold tassels, twisting round her upper arms and wrists.

  Logan stood up and welcomed the two new arrivals. ‘This is Jvarna, of Shacain.’ Logan introduced the woman.

  Jvarna eyed them all intently. Taem could tell she was sizing them up. She stood tall and proud, confident in her own abilities. Jvarna carried a simple spear of planed oak, six-feet long and wrapped in leather bindings, with a leaf-shaped blade of tempered steel. Taem saw how Jvarna held that spear, with a familiarity that showed she knew how to wield it. He also noticed there were knives in Jvarna’s belt and strapped to her calves.

  Behind Jvarna followed the largest man Taem had ever seen. He was almost seven foot tall, and – to Taem’s amazement – his shoulders were even wider than Forgrun’s! Taem guessed this giant man must have weighed thirty stone – and all of his bulk was muscle. The man had a mane of shaggy black hair, and a full, thick beard. Taem saw his eyes were as grey as mountain rock, but there was a clarity in his gaze that said he was more than just an exceptionally strong man. His trousers were made from brown reindeer hide, as were his boots. Both were trimmed with wolf fur. The barbarian’s massive chest was bare, except for a thick leather cross that met at a hefty steel ring, which sat between his slabs of pectoral muscle. The straps of leather were studded with steel rings, and held a wolf’s-fur scabbard on the huge man’s back.

  ‘This is Ragad,’ Logan said, ‘a Northman from Cromarch.’

  The giant of a man dipped his head.

  Taem could see a massive two-handed sword in Ragad’s scabbard. Over Ragad’s colossal shoulders was a bear pelt cloak, lined on the inside with red cloth. Taem noticed the heavy signet ring on his left hand. Ragad carried a giant double-headed warhammer that Taem would never be able to wield. It was crafted entirely from steel, shaft and all. One blow of that warhammer would crush a man’s skull as if it were a water melon.

  ‘Please sit,’ Hirandar gestured to the empty chairs, ‘and be welcome at our table, friends.’

  ‘A woman warrior?’ Forgrun growled.

  Before anyone could tell Forgrun to watch his tongue, Jvarna swept a dagger from her belt and pounced. The shining point of Jvarna’s dagger slammed in between where Forgrun’s thumb and index finger sat rooted to the table. As Jvarna moved, Taem jumped to his feet, drew his sword and laid the flat of the blade upon her neck. Forgrun’s eyes shot wide, and his body was frozen solid.

  Without a thought for the sword blade at her throat, Jvarna said fiercely, ‘A woman’s blade is no less deadly, Rhungar.’

  ‘And sometimes more ruthless,’ Logan said wryly, as he gestured for everyone to sit back down. Taem took note that Logan had not bothered to draw his blade. Forgrun remained as still as a statue. At long last, Taem thought, someone had rendered the Rhungar speechless!

  Jvarna retrieved her dagger and sat back in her seat.

  ‘Try to engage that thick head of yours,’ Hirandar snarled at Forgrun, ‘before you let those stupid words out your mouth!’

  Forgrun stared at the floor.

  ‘You’re fast, young one,’ Jvarna said to Taem, without even glancing at him. ‘What is this quest you spoke of?’ She demanded of Logan. ‘We came here in search of adventure and coin – under good faith – but this Rhungar of yours would choose to trade insults.’

  ‘Forgive him,’ Hirandar shot Forgrun a stern glance. ‘His ways are very different, and he is still learning ours.’

  ‘I do not have your names?’ Jvarna said.

  Taem could see she spoke for the Northman as well; Jvarna had an air about her that said she was in charge.

  ‘Not even yours,’ Jvarna eyed Logan suspiciously.

  ‘I am Logan Fornor.’

  Jvarna did not recognise the name, or showed no sign of caring if she did. Taem thought she was a forceful women. Jvarna was not the slightest bit intimidated by being shown into a luxurious secret room, hidden inside one of the roughest taverns in Dolam.

  ‘This is Hirandar of The Order,’ Logan motioned to Hirandar. ‘Baek, an Aborle of Borleon Fo
rest; Forgrun, of the Rhungari Empire; and Taem.’

  Taem got a closer look at Ragad’s signet ring. It was made of faded silver and incredibly intricate. Etched onto its flat surface, there was a scene of a long boat moored in a mountainous estuary of snow-capped peaks.

  ‘Pleased to meet you all,’ Jvarna said, and Taem thought she was fascinated to hear there was a Wizard of The Sceptre amongst them. ‘You look like a worthy band. I hope my first impressions prove right when we go through The Gate. May I hear of the quest now, Logan? You were very secretive yesterday, hidden beneath your hood,’ Jvarna’s gaze measured Logan. ‘Made me wonder what you were hiding. Today you wear the clothes of a nobleman, but you are a warrior. Blademaster, by the look of that sword and the way you carry it. I’d guess the boy to be your apprentice.’

  Taem did not like the way Jvarna was calling him boy and young one.

  ‘All will be revealed soon, Jvarna,’ Hirandar held up a placating hand. ‘We await the arrival of one other.’ Hirandar pointed to the one free chair at the dark wood table. ‘Then we will begin.’

  No sooner had Hirandar said this, and Bessie came into the Sceptre room leading a handsome man. Taem saw he had shiny chestnut hair, and quick brown eyes. The man gave a brilliant smile of pearly white teeth. This man did not walk, he strutted, and Taem took an instant dislike to the arrogant way he carried himself. The man wore a stylish purple shirt with shiny gold buttons down the front. Taem saw the leather belt of knives slanted across the man’s chest. And Taem caught the flash of more knives hidden inside his brown leather trenchcoat. This man had got dressed in a palace wardrobe.

  ‘Plush place,’ the man nodded to himself, as his gaze took a speculative sweep over the finery of the Sceptre Room.

  With a flourish of a bow, and a glance that took in all of the warriors, but seemed to twinkle when he looked upon Jvarna, the new arrival announced, ‘My name is Drual Dhagren.’

  Drual was pleased at the furore this caused amongst the people sitting at the table. Jvarna and Ragad talked in hushed voices amongst themselves, glancing at Drual with disapproval. Logan’s eyes narrowed as Drual swaggered over to the table, and eased himself down into the free chair.

  Taem thought Drual’s fashionable suede trousers would barely last a day in the saddle. Taem saw Drual’s fine boots were cut from black leather and lined with gold stitch. Even the buckles on Drual’s boots, and on his belt strap, were made of real gold. Regardless of Drual’s arrogance, Taem wondered if there was something more to the famous adventurer than met the eye.

  Hirandar introduced Drual to each of the others, and Drual said, ‘It will be my pleasure to grace this company with my presence.’

  To which the warriors reared back in outrage, and Hirandar shook her head. Taem could see the fury in his Sodan Master’s glare. Taem knew it took a great deal to rile Logan, but it seemed he had had enough today.

  ‘Hirandar,’ Logan growled through gritted teeth, ‘I must speak with you.’

  As Hirandar and Logan got up and walked over to the fireplace, Drual winked at Jvarna, at which she returned a hostile stare.

  ‘As I’m sure you know,’ Drual pulled a knife from each hand, from thin air, ‘no man has seen more of the Lost Realms than I.’ Drual tossed the knives high into the air, spinning them over and over, as he plucked two more from somewhere. His gaze remained forward as he sent those two knives twirling upwards as well.

  ‘No man has escaped the jaws of death as many times as I,’ Drual spread his hands wide, still looking at the other warriors, ‘and there is no adventurer more famous than me.’ At that very moment, without Drual even once glancing at his hands, two knives landed safely in each of his outstretched palms.

  Baek stared wide-eyed as Forgrun whistled. Taem held his breath so not to gasp. Taem had to admit, that was the most impressive bit of juggling he had ever seen.

  With a whirl of Drual’s fingers, which left the five other warriors bewildered, the knives somehow disappeared.

  How in Hathlore did he do that, Taem wondered? Those knives must have gone up his sleeves but… how?

  ‘Yes,’ Drual smiled, ‘I know what you’re all thinking, you are most fortunate to have a great adventurer like me lead you through the Lost Realms.’

  Taem glared at Drual in disbelief. Jvarna glowered at the rogue, as she fingered the hilt of one of her daggers. Forgrun seemed on the brink of hitting him, but settled for grinding a fist into the palm of his other hand. Taem could see Baek’s face was confounded, whilst Ragad displayed as much emotion as a stone. The most astonishing thing, Taem found, was Drual was oblivious to the reactions he was getting.

  ‘There is one of our group more famous than you,’ Taem said in a calm voice that did not portray his anger, ‘and he is far more respected. Yet, he does not have to go around shouting about his greatness.’

  Drual’s face soured, ‘And who is it you speak of, boy?’

  ‘The Grim Wanderer,’ Taem gestured over his shoulder at Logan.

  Drual’s face dropped. Jvarna’s mouth went wide with amazement, and even Ragad’s eyes flashed.

  ‘It is not normal for me to question your judgement, Hirandar,’ Logan said, ‘but you would choose this bumbling idiot over my old battle-brother?’

  ‘I would not ask Balthus to join us,’ Hirandar warmed her hands on the fire. ‘I would not think it wise.’

  ‘Drual is arrogant and self-serving,’ Logan gestured back to the table, ‘at least Balthus would be a useful extra blade in a fight.’

  ‘Not Balthus,’ Hirandar shook her head. Before Logan could disagree, the Wizard went on, ‘I do not think Drual is a great warrior–’

  ‘More likely a hindrance than a help,’ Logan scowled.

  ‘But whatever else he says, there is truth that he knows the lands to the east better than anyone – even you and I. Drual has been to the City of Night a few times, and we may need him as a guide. True, Drual is not a fighter,’ Hirandar raised a finger of one hand, ‘so he must be a top-class treasure hunter, with an uncanny ability to escape danger. How else would he be so successful and have lived so long? I think he will give our company an extra facet, different to the skill at arms we have already gathered.’

  Logan nodded reluctantly.

  ‘I’m not happy,’ Logan murmured, ‘promising these warriors coin we don’t yet have.’

  ‘That’s why I’m going to do it,’ Hirandar smiled.

  ‘We should not be part of a lie, Hirandar,’ Logan said fiercely. ‘It goes against my Code – no matter if it’s done with good intentions.’

  ‘Logan,’ Hirandar patted the Sodan on the shoulder, ‘I know you could never be party to this… half-truth. So the promise of payment will be from me alone.’ Hirandar nodded, and her sapphire eyes seemed to sparkle in the firelight. ‘Anyway, from a certain point of view, we may well find a fortune whilst we’re in the Lost Realms – from which we will pay our new friends handsomely.’

  ‘That’s a fanciful way of justifying a “half-truth”,’ Logan growled, ‘even for you.’

  ‘Trust me, Logan,’ Hirandar squeezed the Sodan warrior’s shoulder. ‘Once our new friends realise how important this quest is, they will understand. I believe in our three new companions. No matter how they seem on the surface, they all have good hearts. In time, we will win them round.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, Wizard,’ Logan whispered. ‘I don’t think Drual Dhagren will be feeling charitable, when he finds out we have no coin to pay him.’

  ‘This quest will bring out the best in all of us,’ Hirandar murmured. ‘Even Drual, I’m certain of it.’

  ‘I wish I believed that as much as you do,’ Logan muttered.

  ‘Drual will be all right,’ Hirandar said, ‘if he learns to keep his mouth shut.’

  At which Logan shook his head, before stalking back to the table with a grimace on his face.

  ‘Listen to me!’ Logan growled at Drual.

  Drual slouched down and his shoulders wilted.r />
  ‘In this company,’ Logan said harshly, ‘You take orders from me – and keep your mouth shut! – or I will have your head,’ Logan put a hand on his sword hilt.

  Drual shivered as he looked at the Wanderer’s sheathed sword.

  ‘Do I have your attention now?’ Logan asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Drual murmured as his looked at the floor.

  ‘I hope,’ Logan said, ‘for your sake, that we need not mention this again.’

  Logan and Hirandar retook their seats, and Taem saw Jvarna looking at Logan, impressed.

  ‘If we are all ready,’ Hirandar looked around the table to each of the warriors, ‘then we will begin. You have been invited here to join our company, to head eastward through The Gate. Our road will not be easy, for we make for the Nakramilis. If this is not for you, you should leave now and forget this meeting ever happened. Make your choice.’

  Jvarna and Ragad glanced at each other.

  ‘Of all the known places in the Lost Realms,’ Jvarna murmured, ‘that is the place avoided above all others. Few set out for the city where the dead walk, and fewer still return.’

  Taem heard the dread in Jvarna’s voice, and he thought how unusual it must be for her to show any sign of unease.

  ‘The City of Night,’ Jvarna said quietly, ‘is a place where even the Krun fear to tread.’

  ‘So,’ Hirandar said gravely, ‘you know this is not a quest to be taken lightly.’

  Drual – although he had lost his arrogant manner – had regained his confidence, and said, ‘Two years ago I was there. The stories are true. The restless dead roam that cursed city, but there are ways of keeping them away. For one, they cannot tolerate sunlight. Two, they hate fire. Three, their senses are dull. You worry the Kruns fear to tread the City of Night?’ Drual asked Jvarna. ‘I say that is to our favour. That means there is no chance of meeting Krun inside the dead city, and treasure untouched by their greedy hands means there is more to be found…’