The Crystal Legacy (Book 2)

by C. Craig Coleman

  Saxthor laughed. He looked back at the followers’ faces. Then there was that shadowy figure following in the trees beside their trail. The king didn’t send that one. For the time being, they’d stay on the main road since their visit through Graushdem was now semi-official.

  Halfway across Graushdem, on the road to the Wizard’s Hall ruins, most of the exuberant crowd had moved on to other entertainment, but half a dozen diehards hung on. In the shadowy light at dusk, Saxthor spotted the dark figure still following.

  “We need to slip away from all these eyes,” Saxthor said to Tournak, close at his side where the Graushdemians couldn’t hear. “The followers report our movements within the kingdom, I’m sure.”

  Tournak looked back at Bodrin and Tonelia, then at the others chatting and following behind. “You’re right about that.”

  Saxthor turned back and announced to all. “We’ll be staying at a roadside inn tonight. Tournak, go ahead and forewarn the innkeeper.”

  Saxthor, Bodrin, and Tonelia stopped to rest under a large tree just off the road. Tonelia fixed refreshments, and the group chatted with their entourage. Tournak secretly scouted ahead for a route that would allow them to disappear into the woods without notice. After he made arrangements, Tournak returned, leading the group to the inn.

  That night the travelers indulged in another feast. They had a splendid time celebrating with the villagers and picking up local gossip, establishing they were enjoying their holiday.

  “We’ll probably sleep late in the morning,” Saxthor announced so all could hear. “We haven’t slept in beds since that glorious visit with King Grekenbach.” He lifted his mug and toasted King Grekenbach, then lowered his voice. “Tournak, drink and stumble about as if drunk.”

  “As you command, Highness.” Grinning, Tournak lifted his mug and downed the contents.

  “That’ll do Tournak.”

  The Neuyokkasinian visitors retired that evening, certain their plans had reached the watchers. In their rooms, the four went to bed for a short rest. About three in the morning, Saxthor woke and awakened Bodrin and Tournak. Bodrin tapped on the wall to awaken Tonelia. Having packed the night before, they met outside Tonelia’s room.

  “Leave this note for the innkeeper, Bodrin,” Saxthor said. “It says we decided on an early departure after all. We paid for the rooms last night, so there should be no suspicion of our trying to sneak out. The last thing we want is bad feelings or suspicions among the Graushdemians. The king trusts us to behave honorably, and I’ll not jeopardize King Grekenbach’s trust. I think he’ll understand our slipping away.”

  The four travelers and Delia slipped out of the inn and into the woods through the route Tournak had selected.

  “Where’s Twit?” Saxthor asked. “Has anyone seen Twit?”

  Bodrin looked back.

  “He didn’t see us go by; he’s going to be mad.”

  “Better go back and cough or something to wake him,” Saxthor said. “You know how he hates waking early. It would hurt his feelings to think we got past him without his notice.”

  Bodrin snuck back to the inn, peeking under eves until he found the little wren. He was sound asleep, head tucked under a wing, his tiny body puffed into a ball and possibly snoring.

  “Ahem!” Bodrin pretended to clear his throat.

  Twit’s head popped up. He fluttered his feathers and clamped them against the morning chill. Bodrin pretended to be looking for something under the window, then snuck out to the woods where the band waited, alert to any movement. Saxthor saw Twit flying to the woods behind Bodrin. No one said a word. The troupe moved off away north with Saxthor and Bodrin grinning at each other.

  “Never mention the incident in front of Twit.”

  Bodrin nodded.

  *

  Having received word the guests would be sleeping late, all the watchers were sound asleep at the inn. When they awoke and finally checked on the royal party, they found they’d missed the Neuyokkasinians’ stealthy departure.

  King Grekenbach smiled when he learned the prince’s party had disappeared. It confirmed Prince Saxthor was on some mission. Whatever that mission was, it wasn’t a threat to Graushdem. When the time came, Saxthor would call on him for support and assistance, and he’d be there. Such was the honor of honorable men.

  * * *

  The dark figure in the shadows beyond the inn wasn’t asleep when Saxthor and his companions slipped away. It followed from a distance. The wraith analyzed the situation as he watched them.

  The prince had disappeared unnoticed by the Graushdemians, as when he entered the kingdom. It had taken the wraith awhile to sort out that this band lured the Tossledorn garrison out to surprise and destroy his orcs and ogres. It had taken him a while longer to pick up their trail. The prince and his companions must’ve been just outside Graushdemheimer when he picked up their traces at Hern, but at least he’d caught up with them at the capital. Their acclaim had spread throughout the city. It didn’t take the wraith long to put the Neuyokkasinian troll-slayers together with the unknown band that destroyed his charges. Now the wraith felt he controlled their fate.

  Staying out of sight was a wraith’s specialty. They were hard to see even when looked at. Hiding in shadows, this one listened to the gossip and soon discovered a Neuyokkasinian prince led the band he sought. That bit of news would be welcome in Dreaddrac. The wraith was determined to destroy Prince Saxthor, and regain his master’s favor before the king learned he’d his lost army.

  The wraith needed something to do his bidding, and a hungry ghoul or conniving troll would be just the thing. Orcs were too clumsy and stupid for this group of veterans. Ogres were too big and stupid, too. When the hikers got near the next village, he’d search the local cemetery to enlist the help of a ghoul possibly lurking near graveyard. Alternatively, he knew groups of trolls lived in the remote forests of eastern Heggolstockin and southern Hador. If this band got that far, he’d demand the trolls’ assistance. All he could do for now was to keep up with the band and see what they were up to until he got help.

  * * *

  Saxthor led the trekkers through the forests.

  “I bet the well-wishers at the inn thought we continued on ahead,” Bodrin said. He winked at Tonelia and poked Saxthor.

  “I can see them rushing up the road to catch up with us.” Tonelia giggled. “By the time they realized we gave them the slip, we were long gone, leaving a cold trail.”

  Tournak was more somber. “We better stay out of sight for a couple of days to be sure no one has followed.”

  *

  One evening Saxthor camped too close to a bog, unaware someone submerged a murdered man’s body there. The wraith that followed them lurked in the bog and sensed the ghost’s torment. The bog’s rising methane and hydrogen sulfide gases stimulated the specter. He became euphoric and overconfident.

  Tournak left his companions around the campfire to go to nature’s facilities in the woods, providing the wraith with the perfect opportunity. He’d cast an illusion over a quicksand clearing to make it appear dry, just covered with leaves. The specter did his work and waited. Tournak walked toward the clearing, seeing a good spot to relieve himself.

  Keep coming, fool; you’re almost there, the wraith thought, hovering above and watching from the trees.

  Tournak was about to step into the quicksand when a dark cloud passed over the moon.

  “Just my luck to walk into the woods and find myself in the dark. I’m sure to trip over something. I'd better wait for my eyes to adjust... That’s odd, I smell swamp gas. A moment ago there was a dry clearing.”

  The wraith was fuming. It looked up at the cloud blocking the moonlight.

  Why do these things happen to me, he wondered. At the last minute, the fool stops for his vision to adjust to the dark. I’ll go down close in front of the fool and use my mental concentration to urge him on … Ah hah! The fool has gotten the clever idea. This is it, now the quicksand.

  Tournak
flicked his finger.

  No, don’t do that!

  Tournak flicked his finger again, lighting his finger-torch. The flame ignited the gases above the quicksand and vaporized the wraith, standing in front of him in a poof of flame.

  “Wow!” Tournak stepped back. “Some flash… must’ve been the gas I smelled. I‘ll have to be more careful in these woods.”

  With the wraith gone, the dry illusion disappeared. The moonlight returned, and Tournak looked down at the quicksand.

  “Cripes, I almost stepped into that.” He turned aside, took care of his business nearby, then returned to the campfire.

  “That was close,” Tournak said, sitting again by the fire. “I almost walked into quicksand back there. You need to be careful when you use the facilities at night.”

  No one thought more of it.

  * * *

  Back at Memlatec’s tower, Hendrel shared Saxthor’s worries from the Hoyan experience. Memlatec frowned, but his eyes twinkled.

  “Hendrel, find Saxthor as fast as possible. Things are worse than expected. As many spies and hidden agents as we’re finding, the Dark Lord must’ve infiltrated more of the peninsula’s kingdoms and principalities than we thought. Saxthor needs to hurry, and he’s going to need all the help he can get. Earwig and the Dark Lord know he’s alive and now they’re hunting him.”

  “I’m supposed to meet him soon in Hador, but I’ll leave tonight for the Wizards’ Hall. If Saxthor’s been there, I’ll go on to Hador.”

  “Meanwhile, I’ll urge the chatra to send troops to Hoya but I’ll go there first to get Prince Henri out so that so-called chatra can’t hold him hostage.”

  Memlatec found his wand beneath a stack of papers and headed for the door.

  “When we’ve again secured the Hoyahof, I’ll send a garrison to the Talok Tower. It was naive to leave that eastern gate castilyernov unmanned. You must find Saxthor before it’s too late.”

  Hendrel and Memlatec hurried north together toward Hoya. One evening they were encamped a short distance from the city, when the two wizards noted a movement in the darkness beyond their campfire.

  “Hendrel, did you see that?” Memlatec asked from his vantage point on a log near the fire.

  Rubbing his hands at the warmth, Hendrel turned to look for some activity. “Yes, what do you suppose it is?”

  “It could be a bear,” Memlatec said. “I should go see what it is before we try to sleep.”

  He got up, stepped over to nearby bushes, and moved a limb for a better look. Peering through, his beard caught in twigs.

  “Seeing a bear this close to the road is unusual.” He tugged, frowned, and jerked to free his beard. “With all the evil agents discovered recently, I worry it might be something even more sinister.”

  “It’s better to check it out and be sure.”

  Hendrel got up and stepped past Memlatec into the brush.

  “If it’s a bear, we should drive it away. Don’t want to wake up with it in my face later. You stay here; I can take care of this.”

  Hendrel continued into the underbrush.

  “Don’t let it get you,” Memlatec said, jerking his beard out of the thorns.

  Hendrel flicked a finger-torch to light up the wooded area. Scrounging around in the bushes was a large troll with bright red eyes carrying an empty basket. Red dust blanketed the troll and the basket. When the light flared from the finger-torch, the drooling troll reared up on his squat hind legs and charged with claws slashing.

  “Pop!”

  Hendrel’s wizard-fire incinerated the troll. He turned and went back to the campfire.

  “What was it? I saw the fire; you must’ve charred something big in there.”

  “Just a troll. Rather unusual to see a troll, though. It had red eyes and was covered in red dust, most unusual. The ugly thing was sniffing around, looking for something.”

  “Might’ve been looking for Saxthor, everyone seems to be lately.”

  “Well, it’s not looking for anything now,” Hendrel laughed. “Good night, Memlatec.” Hendrel turned away from the campfire and wrapped himself in a blanket to sleep.

  “Good night, Hendrel, sleep well,” Memlatec said as he, too, drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  “Curses!” Earwig shrieked again from the tower. “What’s happened to my troll? I put a lot of work into that thing. What could’ve happened to that lethal creature? Nothing could’ve touched it and lived. I felt his energy dissipate, though. Magnosious! Where is Magnosious? That dragon can hide in the strangest places.”

  The befuddled witch set off to find the dragon, mumbling all the way.

  “Hiding indeed,” Magnosious said, peeking into the tower’s window slit. “I’m wrapped around the tower roof several times right over her head. That incessant screeching and her absurd demands get on my last nerve.”

  He put his head down for a nap.

  “She’ll mumble her way around the place for a while, long enough for me to get some peace and quiet.”

  10: The Ruins of the Wizards’ Hall

  Regal Violet Amethyst of Faith

  Bodrin was engrossed in telling Tonelia how stunning she was at the Graushdemheimer state dinner. She loved it. His shyness was gone, their relationship having woven a deep and rich commitment to each other. Whenever he would stop telling her how special she was, she’d wind him up again as the band strolled along a country road to the Wizard’s Hall.

  “You two need to keep up,” Saxthor said over his shoulder.

  “Do you really think I looked good?” Tonelia asked, her eyes fluttering.

  Beside Saxthor, Tournak looked back and whispered through a faint chuckle, “Look at Bodrin. He’s new at love and doesn’t recognize the prompts. Watch, he’ll reassure her how special she is, citing endless examples of this or that wonderful attribute.”

  “She never tires of hearing it either,” Saxthor said.

  “It’ll go on for hours.”

  Saxthor looked back to Tonelia, wiggling and giggling at each compliment. Hoping to lead the couple around obstacles in the path, Saxthor walked ahead with care; the couple only saw each other.

  “They’re so engrossed in their conversation they’d walk hand in hand off a cliff and not know it until they hit bottom,” Saxthor said, through a chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” Bodrin asked.

  “Nothing,” Saxthor said. “The terrain has gotten hilly since we came out of the north-central Graushdem forests.”

  “We’ll need to keep a careful eye out for trolls and ghouls,” Tournak said. “I expect they still live around here since the Wizard Wars. A lot of men, elves, dwarves, orcs, ogres, and wizards died on the battlefields around the Wizards’ Hall.”

  Resting beneath a tree that afternoon, Saxthor laid back and propped his head on his folded arms. Bodrin and Tonelia looked at Tournak, too.

  “How was the Wizards’ Hall destroyed, Tournak? Did Memlatec ever say?”

  “Before the age of man, wizards both good and bad held the real power and controlled everyone’s fortunes. Wizards were the generals and frequently used magic in battles. During decades of peace following the Second Wizard War, the Dark Lord hid his orcs, ogres, trolls, wraiths, and rock-dwarves deep in caverns under the Ice Mountains. There they bred, and their numbers increased to be able to mount another war.”

  “The Ice Mountains, those are in Dreaddrac, aren’t they?” Tonelia asked.

  “Yes, now be quiet,” Bodrin said.

  Tonelia pouted, then looked at Tournak to continue when Bodrin ignored her pout.

  “Without warning, the Dark Lord commanded his armies to rise up and march south from Dreaddrac. The orcs, led by ogres and wraiths with contingents of trolls, overran what are now Prertsten and northern Heggolstockin before people could mount much resistance. Dreaddrac was gaining the upper hand in the battles raging over the peninsular.”

  “The kingdoms weren’t prepared; they thought war was a thing of the past,” Saxth
or said. He poked the fire and sparks flared up. Everyone looked again at Tournak.

  “The Dark Lord was racing to overtake the High Wizard at Wizards’ Hall and seize the Crown of Yensupov. He’d learned the crown alone held sufficient power to stop him.”

  “Do you know about Castilyernov Hadorhof?” Tournak asked.

  “The impregnable Castilyernov Hadorhof defends the high mountain pass, the only eastern pass, into Hador from Dreaddrac. Its resistance was epic,” Saxthor said.

  “While the Hadorhof’s defenders held back the Dark Lord’s eastern armies, the wizards defending the west and south retreated from Prertsten into Heggolstockin and then east to the Wizards’ Hall.” Tournak looked at his companions, riveted to him by the story.

  “The wizards and their auxiliaries held out at The Hall with their combined and consolidated powers focused through the Crown of Yensupov. The Dark Lord’s western army laid siege to The Hall, but they couldn’t cut it off while Hador held up the eastern army at the Hador Pass. The battle raged for months. Most Wizards’ Hall fortifications were destroyed, but the wizards held out.”

  “So the wizards wore him down through attrition?” Bodrin asked.

  “Basically, unable to sustain the siege of both Hador and the Wizards’ Hall, the Dark Lord’s armies diminished. The orc lines stretched too thin. Men from the south fought through and replenished the losses within the Wizards’ Hall.”

  “In the meantime, the High Wizard focused the Yensupov Crown’s power. It repelled repeated attacks of black magic, destroying great numbers of wraiths in the process. Were it not for the power crown and the defenders at the Hadorhof, the Dark Lord would now control the Powterosian peninsula. It took another year, but the war depleted Dreaddrac’s resources. Slowly at first, then with quickening pace, the High Wizard, with his crown of power, gained in strength and forces. When the Dark Lord was finally driven back and defeated, he fled deep into Dreaddrac’s Ice Mountain caverns again.”

  “They should’ve killed him,” Bodrin said.

  “Imagine the lives lost trying to find him in those catacombs,” Saxthor said. “I bet the wizards thought him defeated to the point he couldn’t recover to pose a serious challenge again. That’s what happened, isn’t it, Tournak?”