A Whisper After Midnight

by Christian Warren Freed

  What little warmth offered by the sun faded moments after kissing his aged skin. Time was an enemy, he contemplated glumly. No Man should have to endure the amount of sorrow and hardships he had. Not the most wicked. He acted in the vain hopes of defending his new friends and what they stood for, but even as he rode among them he knew many would not live to see the end of this adventure. Death forever hounded their footsteps. That only a few were claimed thus far was miraculous.

  A handful of crewmen from the Dragon’s Bane were murdered upon returning from Rogscroft, along with the majority of the survivors of Ionascu’s Men. Badron’s absence left Delranan a mess, especially when Harnin One Eye made his bid for power. So much wanton destruction for what? The hastening of the end of the world? Anienam wished he could find a way out, a chance to end the threat of being lost under the crushing weight of the dark gods forever, but it was not in his visions.

  All enemy powers seemed focused on stopping the small band of would-be heroes. The Dae’shan knew what dangers Bahr truly posed and would stop at nothing to kill him before he got to the Blud Hamr. Too many careful plans stood in the balance for the Sea Wolf to be allowed even the slightest chance of success. The Harpies were testament to that but were most certainly not the only tool at the Dae’shan’s disposal. Evil collected more evil. Any manner of nightmares could be awaiting them just around the bend. The old wizard found the thought daunting and he nearly gave thought to turning and abandoning the quest.

  The idea threatened to steal his sanity so he gave a final look to the looming mountains and handed Skuld the reins. He then climbed into the wagon bed and retrieved the ancient text they’d nearly died for in the caverns under Chadra. Clues to their great mystery rested within and, though he was the only one to place the whole of his faith in the text, remained to be discovered. Without it they never would have found the Bergin Pass and the road to the forge of Giants. Venheim had been undiscovered by Man for centuries, making them the first explorers to interact with that ancient race in recent history. At any other time it would have been a tremendous achievement worthy of celebration. Too much rode on their shoulders for it to be anything less than life threatening.

  A shame really. I should have liked to stay and learn more. They are a remarkable people with much to contribute to the younger races. He sighed. If only. Anienam turned the pages daftly and with the care of a new mother. His initial time tables suggested they needed to have the hammer back in Delranan a week ago. The absence of the dark gods told him how wrong he’d been but that only strengthened his worries. Their lives depended on how accurately he could translate the book. Nothing like a little extra pressure just when I don’t need it.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Maleela asked upon waking from her nap. Long days and even longer nights left her exhausted. The others tended to forget she’d been on the road the longest, having been “kidnapped” by Aurec and taken to Rogscroft months ago. The horrors of that first night plagued her dreams almost as much as the thought that her life with Aurec appeared unobtainable. To reduce the stress she took to sleep.

  Anienam didn’t mean to ignore her, but he was already engrossed in the book.

  She made a show of clearing her throat and nudged him with a boot. “I am perhaps the only person in Delranan who’s read most if not all of the books in the royal libraries.” Not that the library was much to boast on. She doubted it contained more than one hundred books.

  “You haven’t read this one,” Anienam said absently. His lips silently mouthed phrases and paragraphs as he dug deeper.

  “You’re not giving me a chance, again. I grow tired of being ignored, wizard,” Maleela said sternly. As princess she was unaccustomed to being so casually dismissed.

  The wagon continued on in awkward silence.

  They camped at dusk. Only Boen and the wizard had ever ventured this far east and their recollections of the terrain were vague at best. Boen and Bahr studied the handful of maps purchased in Fedro, hoping to find the quickest route through the mountains and the river beyond. Added pressures of time running out and being hunted burdened both Men. Their troubles in the Murdes Mountains weighed heavily, forcing them to debate each decision no matter how minor.

  The gentle cracklings of the small campfire broke the monotony of an otherwise silent encampment. Ionascu, crippled and broken, hummed a childhood lullaby from the edge of the small glade they’d confiscated for the night. His wild eyes darted from person to person. Plots formed and dispelled. He hated each for different reasons but reserved his true hatred for the One Eye. They’d once worked together, comrades and hesitant friends, but Harnin’s betrayal left Ionascu a hollow fragment of the Man he had been. He vowed to kill Harnin before this nightmare ended.

  “I don’t trust him,” Skuld quietly told Maleela. His continued exclusion forced him further from the main group and left him seeking companionship from the fallen princess and the wizard. All of his dreams of being a sword-wielding hero gradually faded away.

  She poked at the fire with an already charred stick. “Who?”

  “Ionascu. He is a bad Man.”

  Maleela paused and glanced over to where the older Man rocked gently, knees drawn up and head down. “There are many bad Men, Skuld. He’s the worst sort, a traitor. My father used dozens of Men like him while he consolidated power. Ionascu was once Harnin’s most trusted spy. I’m not sure what went wrong.”

  “They would come to the streets and hire boys to spy for them, do odds jobs after the sun went down. I never thought they were touchable.”

  She offered a half smile. “Everything has changed in Delranan. Men like Ionascu aren’t necessary past their singular uses. Harnin has always been a rat. He showed his true colors the moment my father departed for the war.”

  “Why do we keep him with us?”

  She had no answer. Whatever Bahr’s motivations were he failed to inform her, a fact Maleela found increasingly frustrating. She hated being left out, forced away from plans and thoughts. Objectively she knew it made sense. She was the daughter of the king and a liability, regardless of her strained relationship. That didn’t prevent her from gnawing on growing anger. She’d been stolen twice, once against her will. She’d endured harsh treatments from her captors and witnessed more fighting in the last few months than in her entire life. Men were dying in her name and it sickened her. She wanted to ball her fists and scream to the heavens. More, she wanted to be left alone. And if that wasn’t going to happen she wanted, needed, to be involved in the planning process, if for no other reason than peace of mind.

  When she spoke at last it was with heavy tones. “Because he is just as much of a misfit as the rest of us. He can’t go home any more than we can.”

  “I wish he wasn’t here. I don’t trust him.” Skuld went back to finishing the chunk of slightly stale dark bread. Whatever solace he searched for in the fire remained private but that didn’t prevent him from brooding while he ate.

  Maleela empathized. Her trust diminished the longer the quest took. She gave Ionascu a last look before going back to the fire.

  “We should go north and circle around the mountains,” Boen’s voice dominated the camp suddenly.

  Bahr, face red, vehemently shook his head. “That adds too much time. Time we don’t have. We need to get south by the quickest route possible. Going around the entire mountain range will add weeks of extra travel.”

  “The Spine is not as forgiving as the Murdes,” Boen said and frowned. “We barely made it down from them. The rock is different too. Sharp and wicked. The bones of many travelers decorate the passes. I would not try it with such a large group in the dead of winter.”

  “We’re running out of options, Boen.”

  Boen folded his arms across his massive chest and gestured with his chin towards the wizard. “Have you come up with an answer yet?”

  “This isn’t exactly easy reading,” Anienam snapped, tired of being interrupted. “It was written in a dead languag
e that I could hardly recall properly if I had all of the resources of Ipn Shal at my use. This takes time, Gaimosian.”

  He snorted. “Time which, according to you has already come to pass.”

  Anienam slammed the book shut and rose to confront Boen. “I would expect nothing less from a professional murderer. Do you wish to hear I made a mistake? Is that it? You have this overpowering urge to know I was wrong about something? Fine. I was mistaken. I misread some of the key passages.”

  “Enough of this. We don’t have time to see who’s got the bigger ego,” Bahr said and stepped between them. “Anienam, have you been able to decipher anything?”

  “Yes. No, some of it, surely, but my initial calculations were too far off the mark to provide any use here.”

  “You got some of it correct. We found Venheim when no one else could. I need you to keep trying. We have to know when the dark gods will attempt to reenter Malweir.” Otherwise we’re just wasting our time and running from death.

  Leaving his darkest thoughts unsaid, Bahr resumed his argument with Boen. “Just because we don’t have a definite answer doesn’t give us the luxury of burning time. I say we push through the mountains and reach the river.”

  “The passes are sure to be filled with snow by now! Attempting a crossing would be tantamount to suicide. And let’s not forget the Dwarves. They won’t take kindly to us marching across their territory uninvited.”

  Damnation. I’d almost forgotten about them. “Everything I know of Dwarves says they won’t bother us if we don’t bother them.”

  Boen barked a laugh. “Believe that if you wish, but I have known many Dwarves. Fought with them and even made a few friends. Fought against them too. They’re mean little bastards when it comes down to it and I’d just as soon avoid them altogether. Besides, Dwarves hold grudges that travel from clan to clan. We’d have every Dwarf in Malweir out looking for us.”

  “What’s another few thousand hunting us?” Nothol asked. He couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever dark powers were active in the north were sending every tool at their disposal after the small band.

  “He’s got a point,” Boen said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we don’t need a legion of Dwarves after us. You can kiss your precious hammer good bye that way.”

  “The Kergland Dwarves won’t bother anyone,” Anienam said suddenly.

  “How can you know this?” Bahr demanded.

  The wizard shrugged casually. “I have friends as well. They will know me. We should be quite welcome.”

  Bahr doubted that. The wizard was a quirky old man, but he was off his rocker. Given his track record, Bahr decided Anienam was just as likely to draw someone’s ire as their friendship. He couldn’t take that chance. “We need to avoid contact. The fewer know about us the better.”

  “But the Dwarves…”

  Bahr pointed at Groge. “Have no love for him. Do you want to start a war?”

  “All right, all right! Have it your way. I’m going back to my book.”

  He ambled back to his already cold seat and picked the book back up, leaving the other two with bemused looks.

  “We should scout the nearest pass. If it’s blocked we go around,” Dorl suddenly added. “It’s the only way to end your arguments and keeps us moving forward.”

  Bahr hid his smile as Boen unfolded his arms warily. The decision to bring along the sell swords continued to pay off, making Bahr glad of what few friends he had. They’d proven themselves invaluable a dozen times over since first leaving Delranan and he held every expectation they would continue to do so in what was sure to be dark days ahead. Still, the decision to enter the mountains or go around weighed heavily. I need the wizard to give me an accurate timetable. We’re trapped until he does.

  TEN

  They travelled east for another two days. Ahead, the jagged fangs of the Kergland Spine continued to rise higher. Shadows cast about their base, locking the closest land in semi darkness. Tensions continued to rise as well. The group was decidedly torn between which approach best suited their needs. Boen adamantly championed marching around the northern edge of the mountains. So unlike his usual self, Bahr had to wonder what the Gaimosian knew and wasn’t telling. That worried him more than anything else since leaving Fedro.

  Reluctantly, the Sea Wolf agreed to send Dorl and Nothol forward to scout the passes. Deep down he knew enough snow had fallen to block their passage, though he refused to believe it until the report came back. He needed to be right. He needed to know he was still capable of making the right decision. So much had gone wrong since the night Harnin came to him and besieged him to rescue his niece. Bahr looked back at Maleela and found any ill will difficult to maintain against her. She was just a pawn.

  Dark had been his thoughts the further away from Delranan they travelled. He began to see things in his dreams; terrible things beckoning the doom he felt he couldn’t prevent. The world burned around him and all he could do was laugh. Bahr felt a foulness clutch the edges of his soul, waiting, watching. The notion was absurd. He’d never been superstitious and held no beliefs in another world lurking in the shadows. It took much to swallow what the Old Mother had foretold and even that didn’t sit well with his principles. Magic and fantasy might be well and fine for Men like Anienam, but Bahr was grounded in the inescapable reality of the harshness of life.

  He tried to push those thoughts away and refocused on the nearing mountains. Much of the day had already passed when he ordered a halt. They’d come to the foothills and he agreed not to proceed further until Dorl and Nothol returned. Guiding the wagon into a small stand of ash and pine, he took first watch as the camp was made. Cold winds blew in fresh snow, light and non-sticking. More than two feet of snow already blanketed the lands. He was confident they wouldn’t need to worry about it once they reached the river and started moving south.

  “Any sign yet?” Boen asked, moving silently up behind.

  Any traces of their argument vanished. He was back to being his usual obstinate self, for which Bahr was grateful.

  “Nothing. I told them to be back by sundown. We can’t risk having them caught in the mountains tonight,” Bahr replied.

  “Wise. They are good lads. Bringing them along was the second smartest thing you’ve done.”

  “What’s the first?”

  Boen grinned, savage and terrifying. “Bringing me.” He stiffened suddenly and pointed. “Look, movement about a hundred meters out.”

  Bahr followed the line of Boen’s finger and squinted against the dying light. He could barely make out the shapes bobbing towards them. Any elation faded when he noticed more than two. “Get everyone prepared. I don’t think it’s them.”

  “I knew it!” Boen grumbled. “Gods damned Dwarves. We’re in for it now.”

  He slunk back down the large boulder Bahr had taken up the watch on and quietly roused the others for battle. The camp came alive. Rekka drew her weapons and headed towards the tree line as Skuld and Maleela, secretly, drew swords and headed to the far right flank. Even Anienam rose and headed to the line, though with far different intent. He was certain he could reason with the Dwarves and avoid any unnecessary conflict. Too much death trailed them already. More would just hang around their necks like a plague. If they survived. Only Ionascu remained docile.

  “Fifty meters,” Bahr hissed and drew his sword. He could make them out clearly. Dorl and Nothol were afoot, their horses nowhere to be seen. A score of Dwarves surrounded them. Each was girded for war.

  Golden face masks presented a fierce image. Long beards of every color hung down their broad chests. Plated leather armor protected their torsos and upper thighs. Hobnailed boots gave them traction as they marched. Massive, round shields were slung over their backs, gilded with different runes and Dwarf patterns. Each bore a two-headed battle axe, thick fingers curled around the hafts. Bahr immediately had a sinking feeling.

  The Dwarves halted at the edge of the trees, planting their feet shoulder width apa
rt and lowering their axes just enough to appear slightly less threatening. Bahr moved quickly, knowing Boen wouldn’t hesitate to strike if he saw the right opportunity. The Giant, on the other hand, remained an unknown. One Bahr couldn’t take a chance on. Lowering his sword, he stepped into the open with arms wide.

  “We don’t bring trouble,” he started.

  The Dwarf captain stepped forward and cut him off. “You are intruding on the Dwarf kingdom of Drimmen Delf. Turn around now and depart or else.”

  Bahr shook his head. “We can’t turn back. Our mission lies to the east. We must be allowed to pass.”

  “Turn around and find another way or spend the rest of your lives in a dungeon,” the Dwarf insisted.

  Bahr glanced back over his shoulder, looking to the others for help. Especially Anienam. He needed the wizard to come out and smooth things over. Otherwise…

  Making a show of clearing his throat, Anienam drew all attention. “If you think you can take us all then go ahead and try. Otherwise let us pass so we may be on our way.”

  Bahr’s mouth dropped. Swords raised. Axes readied and the Dwarven front rank dropped into battle stance. They were going to charge. Bahr tossed down his sword and jumped between the two groups. “Wait! He doesn’t speak for us.”

  “Too late, Human. Lower your weapons and surrender.” He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. Another score of Dwarves popped up from the opposite side of the grove and leveled their dark wood crossbows.

  “Your weapons,” the Dwarf demanded.

  Boen acted first, flipping his great broadsword around and handing it over to the Dwarf. He bore a told-you-so look reserved only for Bahr. Fighting the Dwarves wasn’t an issue. He’d had more than his share of run-ins with the taciturn people, but he was impossibly outnumbered and outgunned.

  Seeing the Gaimosian surrender so easily prompted the others to follow. Rekka removed the arrow from her bow and handed both bow and quiver over. Even Groge, who could have easily crushed half of the Dwarves without effort, stood with hands clasped submissively at his waist. Rough hands grabbed them and forced cruel metal cuffs around their wrists. Dorl and Nothol watched helplessly, already prisoners. Luck had run out. One by one the members of the group were taken into custody and hustled off towards the now grim-looking mountains. Dwarves swarmed up from the snow-covered rocks and from behind trees to rein in the horses and wagon. Soon everything was on the road to Drimmen Delf.