by Cebelius
"There are rumors that a sword was found in Svartheim," Yesun said. "A legendary sword."
"Those rumors are true. I went to retrieve it, on Terry Mack's behalf," Yuri said.
"And the blade's name?" Yesun asked. "Was it truly Tyrfing?"
Yuri noted that several of the other herd elders were glancing at each other in confusion. They clearly didn't know any of this, and he found it odd that Yesun should be so well-informed.
He must have pulled stakes and headed our way almost immediately after we left the carnival ourselves. This could mean serious trouble.
Knowing there was no point in lying — it was obvious the question had been rhetorical — Yuri continued with the truth.
"Yes."
"And you simply handed the blade over to the template without consulting the elders?"
"Svartheim is near to, but not on the steppe, Chieftain. The herds have no claim to the sword," Yuri said, allowing just a trace of his annoyance at the other man to show.
"Where is he now then?" Yesun asked. "Loose somewhere on the steppe, with a sword said to be able to cut through any defense."
"As a matter of fact, I have no idea where he is," Yuri said. "Though it was clear before he left that his next target was the Dust Lord. I believe he is even now on his way to the Twilight Zone. I doubt you will ever see him again, one way or the other."
A round of murmuring swept the council circle, and Yesun nodded in satisfaction as he said, "Very well. I will mount an expedition to Svartheim. The Temujin will clear out the remaining hobgoblins."
The abrupt about-face threw Yuri for a loop and he blinked, his tail lashing in confusion as his ears twisted, then straightened again as he regained his poise. He bowed slightly to acknowledge the chieftain's decision.
"You will, of course, be accompanying any expedition we send?"
This was a minotress, and her voice was matronly, but firm. She was plump — after the fashion of most of the fairer half of her race, and wore a dress of simple design but ornately decorated in colorful geometric patterns. He knew her as Shining Cloud. Her herd, the Rain Callers, were frequent guests at his village.
"I can provide a map, but my new responsibilities mean I must remain behind," he said, sounding apologetic. "I wish I could do more, but my people have suffered greatly in my absence, and I must tend to their needs. I have broken the back of the hobgoblin army. All that is required of the herds is to ensure those few left alive are dealt with before their numbers resurge."
"What is your estimate of those numbers?" Shining Cloud asked.
Yuri's lips twisted. The truth was that he honestly didn't know. He could only guess based on how far they'd gotten, how close they'd come to the very end of Svartheim. The problem was he didn't know that either, not really. He had a feel for these things, but he didn't know.
"All told there cannot be more than a hundred, and most of those will not be capable of serious resistance," he said, deciding to err on the side of caution. "I suspect there are many fewer, but if there are more than that, it is because a significant force was away from Svartheim when we invaded. Forces within the dungeon itself were completely devastated. On our way out, we encountered virtually no resistance. I am doubtful there was any significant force away from Svartheim. If there had been, he," Yuri nudged the cloth sack, "would have been with them."
"Is there anything else of note that you wish to tell us about what our forces will face?" the minotress asked, and Yuri had to focus to still his tail and keep his ears neutral. His gratitude at her tacit support warmed his heart though.
"The bridge into Svartheim was destroyed. A mage will be required to either form a new bridge or otherwise provide transport across the gap, which is not more than two hundred feet. I have a map prepared. It is from memory, but my memory is very good. The entire dungeon seemed to have been converted into a military facility. We encountered no traps, nor any of the other dangers typical of dungeons. The only other denizens you will be likely to encounter are goblins."
"The tiger kin have always been reliable, and have lived by the accords for generations," Shining Cloud said, raising her voice slightly to make it clear she was voicing her definitive opinion. "That he came to us with this speaks well of him, for had he neglected to do so, the first we would know of it would likely be an army of hobgoblins surging out over the steppe. Had that been the case, it would still be our problem to deal with. The Rain Callers will also send a contingent to Svartheim."
"That won't be necessary," Yesun said, glancing toward Shining Cloud. "Unless you believe my herd incapable?"
Shining Cloud quirked an eyebrow as she said, "I was under the impression that the Temujin were a warrior herd. I would never question their ability in war, but as Chief Kolenko mentioned, the bridge into Svartheim was destroyed. Unless your herd has more magic available to it than I was aware of, your forces will need help getting into the dungeon. As it happens, the Rain Callers have a pair of very capable mages, both of whom will be of use."
"Very well, send them along," Yesun said shortly. "We'll put them to work."
"You'll do no such thing," Shining Cloud said. "Your behavior at the carnival is well-known, Yesun. I and a contingent of my herd will accompany your forces. You should not complain. Work shared is more easily accomplished, and this particular threat impacts us all."
Yesun scowled, but after a moment, he nodded his assent.
"Bring whomever you will then. I will not scorn the help. Perhaps we can divide our forces and see to Torp as well, or handle the threats in full force, one at a time."
"Svartheim is the more pressing threat," Yuri pointed out. "I do not believe the necromancer means to move. Undead do not do well on the open plains."
"There is also the matter of preparation," another herd elder said. "It will take at least a month to pull together the forces proposed and send them to Svartheim. I too would like to send a contingent."
"And I!" another spoke up, then several more. Yuri's eyes flickered around the circle, and saw that many of them still looked dissatisfied, but that they had been shamed into sending aid. As he glanced back to Yesun he noticed the minotaur's expression had become studiously blank.
"We should send an advance party," he said. "Not to plumb the depths, but merely confirm a presence. They can tell the horde we send what to expect, once all is prepared."
There was some discussion, and it was agreed to assemble a small party to go in advance of the main force. In the end it was also agreed that leadership of the horde would be split between Yesun Tege — who had committed the entirety of his herd — and Shining Cloud. Yuri provided maps he had prepared in advance, both to Torp and to the dungeon itself.
When he returned to where the dragon Asturial reclined in wait for him, she said simply, "And?"
"They agreed to send a horde to clean out the dungeon," Yuri said. "It should be more than sufficient. They are aware of the undead in Torp as well and will doubtless spread that word. The place will either be cleansed or avoided, and in either case my responsibilities to those here are met."
The dragon was easily the most massive creature Yuri had ever seen in person. Her head alone was fifty feet from her snout to the crown of her head, where spiraling black horns curled around ears each the size of a jib sail on a three-masted schooner.
He was accustomed to dealing with her in a proxy form. Seeing her now in her full glory still made him tremble a bit, but they had been through much together and it was only the animal instinct in him that feared her. Asturial was a true friend.
"Did you tell them of the encounter we had on the way out?" she asked.
Yuri blinked, then swore as he turned, only to stop again as Asturial dropped a massive forelimb ahead of him.
"Say nothing. The chance that she remained once she determined Terrence wasn't present in the dungeon is negligible. They would not be able to deal with her no matter how many they sent in any case. Do not complicate matters."
Yuri lo
wered his eyes to the ground, considering, then shook his head and turned back toward the dragon as he said, "Take me back, please. And thank you for being willing to delay your departure long enough to bring me here. I am sure you will see Boss again soon."
"I am not, but your wish for our reunion is one I accept, and for which I am grateful."
She offered her forelimb. He climbed on, wrapped his arms as far around her 'thumb' as he could manage, then held on for dear life as the massive beast leapt into the sky and began to wing her way back to his home.
Yesun Tege returned to his yurt, and paused at the entrance. His second, a young bull named Grasshoof, waited there for orders. He was a recent acquisition from another herd and Yesun didn't trust him, but he was a capable bull and showed some promise.
"Send me Loremaster Altan, then stand by here and await the outcome. I will likely have further instructions."
Grasshoof nodded, turned, and trotted away as Yesun entered his yurt. He sat on a tripod camp chair in front of his weapons rack and set his hands on his knees, waiting for his Loremaster in an attitude of readiness he knew the old bull would recognize.
Altan arrived several minutes later, and did not bother to announce himself as he opened the door and stepped inside. He was hoary and old, and unlike most minotaurs he did not have the deep chest and gut. Instead, his frame was lean and wiry, and the muscle of his abdomen stood out in ridges down to a belt of golden scales. His horns curled up, curving and unbroken, to sharp points above his head, and his skull cap was lined with ermine fur.
A staff of ebon wood capped by a minotaur's skull was in his left hand, and a pair of throwing axes rode the leather straps that crossed his shoulders and lean but muscular chest.
"What would you know, Herd Master?" Altan asked, his voice strong and grave, just as it had always been. The Loremaster had been old when Yesun was brought into the world, and he had no idea what magics the ancient shaman used to keep his strength, but it was not his magic that was needed now.
"I need all of the details of a legend."
"Which legend?"
"Tyrfing."
The old bull's eyebrow lifted a bit, and he set his staff in front of him and leaned on it as he said, "It seems templates and their tales are rife on the steppes these days. Very well, here is all I know."
Yesun Tege listened with an attitude of studied patience as Altan told him everything, and only when the telling was done did he allow himself to smile.
"How is your daughter these days?" he asked.
Altan shrugged as he said, "Stubborn as ever. She has twenty summers now and refuses to settle. No herd will have her."
"Does she still insist on following a warrior's ways?"
The old bull chuckled as he shook his head and said, "She doesn't bother anymore. None of the young bulls can best her. Lately, she has taken up running. I fear my own habits have rubbed off on her, and she is so lean now that I despair of ever getting her out of my yurt."
"I thought as much. Tell Grasshoof to go find her and send her to us here. Then tell him to find every runner we have in camp and gather them outside."
Altan did as he was bade, and the two waited in companionable silence for the old Loremaster's wayward daughter to arrive. Yesun did not know whether Altan simply wasn't curious, or was patient enough to wait for the full story, but he suspected the latter. Altan and his knowledge were the foundation upon which Temujin tradition was built, and theirs had always been a patient and exacting people.
The door rattled as the one outside knocked. It was not a gentle rapping, and Yesun quirked a brow at his Loremaster, who sighed and said, "Come in, Khulan, and try not to take the door from its hinges."
The door opened to admit a ridiculously slim minotress. Her dark hair was bound up in a top-knot that peaked just short of the upward curving horns she'd inherited from the Loremaster before cascading down to her lower back. Her body was a feminine image of Altan's as well, narrow-waisted and strong. Her breasts were tightly bound in a sarashi of expertly woven blue and gold, and her dark brown eyes were piercing and direct. She stood a few inches over six feet, and her loincloth was also blue, though lined with golden thread. Her belt, unlike her father's, was plain leather, though the buckle was silver rather than iron.
"Herd Master, Father," she said, dipping her head as she greeted each man in turn. Her features were regal, her nose small and straight. She did not smile, but her lips at least had a pleasant softness about them, and if she would only fill out properly, Yesun would have thought her attractive.
Perhaps it is fate that this young wildling is of age and in a condition to be of use here, Yesun silently mused. She is certainly not of the same sort of stature as that mountain Laina Lowe, but she is lean. Perhaps that is the type of woman templates prefer. One can hope.
"Altan tells me you have taken up running," Yesun said, and the look on Khulan's face grew wary as she nodded. "Yes?"
"There was a task set before the herd elders this morning, but there is more to it than the others realize," Yesun said. "I know that you have refused the attentions of the other bulls, practice skills unseemly for your sex, and that no other herd will have you."
He paused, watching her increasingly nervous expression, before smiling as he said, "Perhaps that is for the best, as the Temujin now have need of you as you are."
Khulan blinked and couldn't help but glance over at her father, who merely shrugged and continued to lean on his staff.
Her wary look remained even as she said, "If it is within my power, I will be honored to serve the Temujin."
"Even if it sets you against the other herds?" Yesun asked.
"I am a minotress of the Eastern Steppe," Khulan answered automatically. "But first and last, I am Temujin."
Both minotaurs smiled, and Yesun said, "Excellent. You will be sent to Svartheim as part of an advance party. Go along with them, but once you reach the dungeon, I have some special instructions. Succeed, and you will be granted favors higher than any mere mortals can bestow. Fail, and you are unlikely to survive. Will you accept this task?"
Khulan glanced again at her father, then back at Yesun as she ventured a slight smile.
Yesun grinned, then told her what she must do.
To Be Continued ...
Afterword
Thank you kindly for taking the time to read my book. I do hope you enjoyed the journey.
As the first book in a new series, I strove mightily to get this one right, and at this point, sitting here at oh dark thirty … actually it’s four in the morning at the moment because I’ve been up all night editing and formatting this thing, I am both elated that it is almost done and terrified to put it out in the world.
Yet put it out I must. If you enjoyed this dark foray please, leave a review for me so that others with similar tastes can more easily find it. As most of you know, reviews are make or break for authors on Amazon. If I have entertained you, I humbly ask that you say so.
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