Ravion brought his sword up. His enchanted weapon flexed under the force, but stopped the attack. Refusing to give the orc another chance he jumped, letting the orc's strength carry him to the ground. Flipping over the orc he plunged his sword into the brute's back, piercing the thick breastplate. He felt the tip stop against the inside of the breastplate. The orc fell forward, gasping his final breath.
Gareth launched one of his swords end over end. He felt the invisible force around the blade, carrying it toward his destination. The sword stabbed into the orc, tip first, burying itself to the polished hand guard. He calmly walked toward the snarling warg, shoving his other sword into the beast's maw. The warg yelped and collapsed. Ripping his sword free he turned, searching for any others.
Demetrix counted the men Elalon had sent with him. There were only nine remaining, but all the orcs were dead. It was a heavy loss, but one the resistance could count as a victory. “Gather the wounded. Let's back to Adariel before more orcs show up!”
***
Music echoed throughout the elven city. Elves and humans alike danced in all directions. Tables were covered by elegant, white cloths displaying a plethora of color. Roasted boar, fresh fruit, arranged vegetables, and many desserts were splayed out for all to partake.
Ravion and Gareth sat at one of the tables uncomfortably watching the people around them.
“You're sure it was him?” Gareth arched his exposed eyebrow at the outfit of choice by one of the humans. It was strangely tight and tailored of a dark brown. Frilly white lace exploded from the collar and wrist holes, seemingly on purpose. Shaking his head he returned his attention to Ravion.
“I am. If it weren't enough that his skin was green, I got a good look at his face.”
“That's unfortunate. I always liked the dummy, regardless of how many times he annoyed me.”
“As did I.”
Demetrix approached the table. He was dressed in fine silk of emerald and brown.
Elalon followed closely behind, her hand in his. She wore a radiant and flowing gown matching in material and color to Demetrix.
“Ravion, Gareth; I’d like to introduce you to Lady Elalon, leader of the resistance and last of the royal elven line.” He leaned in whispering, “That's what they call alfar here.” Guiding her around to meet them he stepped aside.
Ravion stood and gave a delicate bow. “Lady Elalon, it's a pleasure to meet you.
She bowed in return. “The pleasure's all mine. Demetrix has told me so much about you.”
“I assure you it's not all true.” Gareth chuckled, half meaning his statement.
“I should hope not.” She jested, softly hitting Demetrix in the arm.
“What are you guys doing here? Go out, drink… be merry. Elalon has already had supplies set out for us. We'll leave at first light.”
Gareth looked around the open platform locking his sights on one of the human women at the drink table. “You know, this is the first time we've been able to unwind since we got here. I believe I will partake of the festivities.” He stood and marched toward the girl. Spinning around, he shouted over the music. “I'll see you gentlemen in the morning.”
Ravion chuckled, watching Gareth initiate contact. Returning his attention to his brother and Elalon, he found their urging faces staring back at him. “What?”
“You need to unwind. There's plenty of time to sulk later.”
“I'm not sulking. I'm observing. Someone around her has to have their wits about them. What if the orcs seek retribution?”
Elalon gestured to the sides. “My guards are keeping watch. They'll handle any situations that arise. If it's bigger than their ability, the rest of us will have time to clear our heads and prepare.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, your majesty.” Ravion smiled, hoping the statement didn't come across as abrasive. “But I have more than tonight to think about. I'd rather get a good night's rest and be ready for whatever we may face tomorrow.”
“I understand. Have a wonderful night. If you need anything, you have but to ask.” She pulled against Demetrix, urging him to follow. “Now, if you'll excuse us, we have some…” She paused. “things to work out.”
Ravion smiled understanding her intention. “Have fun, you two. I'll see you in the morning.”
Chapter XXI
The Long Walk
The jagged, steel blade scrapped against the icy cliff face shaving layers from the frozen formation. Krenin struggled to keep hold of the leather wrapped handle. He felt numbness set into this knuckles. Pulling himself up he kicked into the crystalline surface, fracturing it. The mirrored finish distorted, leaving white cracks where his boots hit. He buried his toes into the damaged section, pressing his back against the crevice behind him. Wedged into place he ripped the blade free, stabbing it into the ice above him. His arms were growing tired. Glancing up he could see the ledge. Gritting his teeth he repeated the process, seeing the powdery substance within reach. He threw his thick, green arms over the edge digging through the snow, searching for anything to grab hold of. Finding what felt like a tree root he pulled, hoping it would hold his weight. To his relief, it did. Dragging himself to the top he dusted the snow from his chilled armor.
Bodies littered the elevated bluff. Orc, human, elf, warg… they all remained scattered where they had fallen. A light powder had collected atop them, but it seemed the snow had stopped shortly after the battle.
The exhausted half-orc staggered through the knee-deep accumulation, searching for any survivors. It didn't matter what race, they would serve his needs. A red stain caught his attention. His knees buckled at the sight. He saw gray and white fur, partially covered, lying just ahead of him. Icy blue eyes stared back at him, cold and glazed. Tears fell down his face, freezing instantly. He crawled on his hands and knees, pulling himself toward Xarg. It seemed the closer he came, the further the pup was. An eternity passed. He finally reached his only true friend, the one that loved him no matter what. He gripped the mixed fur holding tight to the loving animal. Examining the wound he noticed he'd been cut from chest to tail, gutting him in a single slice. Replaying that moment in his head he knew who was responsible. The human looking elf was going to pay. He pulled the harness free of the pup. He didn't bother unbuckling it. The straps had been cut. No, it was best to preserve it in its current state. That way the man would remember what he'd done. That memory would be his last. A stern gaze locked in, he heaved the leather and metal to his shoulder; searching for the tracks leading into the forest. There weren't enough bodies here. The survivors had to have retreated somewhere and he would find them.
Stepping onto the thinning snow around the forest's edge he heard a grunt to his right. Glancing over he saw a few orcs huddled around a small fire. They were wounded, but maybe they could serve his purpose. After all, if he was going to catch up and find these humans he didn't have time to return to Idenfal. His revenge would be swift. It would be methodical. It would be without mercy.
Approaching, he looked upon the group of orcs. There were only six remaining. Looking at each of them, none but himself held any true status. “Get off your asses. We have humans to kill!” Refusing to wait he turned and made his way into the forest.
***
The amplified morning light beamed through the overhead window illuminating the large bed stationed in the center of the room.
Demetrix awoke, feeling it upon his face. A milky, white arm was wrapped around him taking comfort in his embrace. He hated to wake her, but it was time. To abandon her without word seemed cruel, despite her feelings toward goodbyes. Carefully moving her arm, he crawled out of bed and quickly stepped into his black, woolen breeches. Leaning over he kissed her forehead, watching her sparkling blue eyes peek open. A smile breached her lips at his sight. “Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?”
Wrapping her arms around his back she pulled him close, kissing his lips between words. “Better… than… ever!”
He gently pressed his for
ehead against hers, lingering above her. “That's good.” He closed his eyes, dreading what he was going to say. “I—”
As if she were reading his mind she spoke, silencing him. “You don't have to say anything. I know you have to go. I wish we had more time together, and perhaps one day we will. But for now, you've given me my wish. I got to see you tomorrow.” She moved her head, kissing his. “Go. Your brothers are probably waiting for you.”
He smiled looking into her face for what could possibly be the last time. “I love you.”
“And I you.”
Pushing himself up he grabbed his tunic and boots, slowly walking from the chamber backwards as to keep her in his sights for as long as possible.
She laughed at his silliness. “Go! You're going to be late.”
Smiling at her he spun around and disappeared, pulling his shirt overhead.
***
“Took you long enough! What'd you have to do, clean your armor?” Gareth joked, picking at the fur liner sticking from beneath the leather plates.
“I said I'm sorry. What do you want from me?” Demetrix adjusted his quiver, ensuring he could reach his arrows and swords with ease.
Ravion chuckled, seeing it was getting under his brother's skin. “It's not like we had a set departure time or anything. I mean, if you want to go back to bed for a few hours, we can wait.”
“If you guys keep fucking with me, I just might.”
“Relax, we're just giving you shit.” Gareth punched him in the arm. The blow was absorbed by the layered leather. “We're glad you finally got some. Only took traveling to another world to do it, but hey, our brother got laid.”
“You know what? I fucking hate you guys!” Demetrix heaved his pack and marched toward the forest's edge.
Ravion and Gareth laughed, watching him storm away.
***
Strange noises echoed all around. The orcs huddled closer together as they followed their commander through the haunted forest. One swung his axe, batting at a seemingly attacking apparition. He searched, puzzled, unable to find any sign of the missing beast.
Krenin glanced back, glaring his anger into the frightened orcs. Returning his attention to the overgrown trail he adjusted the heavy harness, securing his grip around the blood soaked leather.
The trailing orcs felt his rage burn through them. There was something primal about it. As if he had not a care in the world other than the urge to kill. It was both inspiring and alarming. Though a great many orcs spent their lives aspiring to find such a state. Entering battle free of worry or care made the perfect warrior. If their commander had reached this state there wasn't anything to stop him, at least not without heavy losses. Trekking onward they ignored the phantoms, fearing the green orc's wrath over what the forest could offer.
Krenin threw his hand into the air, halting the weakened orcs. Peeking through the trees, he could see a massive city standing in plain sight. How had he never seen it before?
The orcs searched the trees, unable to find any reason for their halt. Did he smell something? Scratching their heads, they waited for his command.
His lips tightened around his tusks. He would taste the blood of those within the city. Though he didn't have the orcs required to penetrate their walls nor the rope to scale the sides. A flicker of movement caught his eye. Squinting into the distance he spotted the man responsible for Xarg's death. His blood boiled. His palms grew sticky, longing to wrap around his sword. He wanted nothing more than to charge across the open and cut the man down. Stealing another glance at the city he realized they were too close. If he took another few steps he'd be within sight. Turning to face his men Krenin spoke in perfect orcish. “The men we're after are just ahead, though we're too close to the elven city. We have to go around. Once they're dead we'll come back with the full might of the shadow and crush the resistance for good.”
The orcs wanted to cheer, still uncertain where he was referring to, but it wasn't their place to question. Nodding their agreement they followed after, letting him lead the way.
***
The snow was much thicker on the mountain side than it had been in the hills. The three stood atop one of the bluffs looking down over the gargantuan city before them. Even at this distance it towered high overhead and stretched as far as the eye could see. The coin sized snowflakes didn't help matters either. The darkened outline was all they could see. Not the gate, not the turrets, and certainly not the watchmen that was undoubtedly present.
Ravion looked through the makeshift glass searching for any sign across. It helped a bit, but much was still hidden from view. Scanning the outer wall, taking in the full expanse of the castle grounds, he noticed a wide bridge spanning across the deep chasm to the other side. The lingering snow made it difficult to see, but it was clearly there. Tracing the road to the wall he was able to make out the blackened and sealed gate. Twin spires shot into the sky on either side overlooking the approach. It seemed there was no way across without being seen. Lowering the sight glass he turned, addressing his companions. “I found the gate, but there's no way we can make it. Not without some kind of cover.”
A brief shadow danced across the corner of his eye. Curiosity fueling him he stepped closer to the ledge, bracing himself against a small tree. Adjusting his sight he twisted the dense glass, gaining better detail over the amplified image. A lone horseman turned, following a twisting, narrow trail along the side of the chasm. He rode out of the shadowed crevice and onto a small road branching from the near side of the bridge. Tracing the horseman's route he noticed a slight glimmer in the dark. An icy bridge, hidden far beneath the surface reflected the sparse glow of sunlight. “There may be another way into the castle.”
“What do you see?” Gareth asked, uncertain of anything in his near blind state.
Handing the sight glass to the one-eyed warrior, Ravion continued. “Do you see that rider down there?”
Gareth positioned the tube and adjusted the crystal. He found a man mounted atop a horse galloping along the main road. He was gaining unnatural speed, yet the horse seemed to be able to keep the pace. The man wore a black cloak, its hood pulled up covering his face. Each step the horse took revealed the pale-white face of a man. His form was bulky suggesting he was wearing thick armor. The edge of a scabbard could be seen hanging from his side. “Yeah.”
Demetrix focused, feeling his sight clear and seemingly zoom in to focus on the man. “Yes.”
“He didn’t cross the bridge. I think there’s another path. Down there, in the shadows.”
Gareth turned, searching the direction Ravion had suggested. “You sure? I'm not seeing anything.”
“Come on, I think I know how to get there.” The young ranger pulled himself away from the edge and into the tree line. Climbing to one of the higher bluffs he noticed the trees were beginning to grow sparse. Aligning his position to one of the faded windows in the upper spire he stepped to the edge and peeked down.
“Where are you taking us?” Gareth locked his arms around one of the trees, regaining his footing against the steep snow-covered rocks.
“Look.” Ravion pointed into the chasm.
Demetrix braced himself against a tree and leaned over. He saw a thin, icy pass stretching across the endless ravine. It was narrowly wide enough for a single horseman to cross without falling into the void below. A trail snaked along the cliff face disappearing into a wide cavern in the depths. “I wouldn't have seen that.” He admitted, admiring his brother’s find.
“Had it not been for that rider, I wouldn’t have either. It blends in perfectly.”
“Well, I’ll give you a job well done for finding it, but how are we gonna get to it? These rocks would be hard enough to climb without my fingers being numb. Mix that with snow cover and I think it'd be a quick drop and a final stop.” Gareth kept his hold on the frost covered tree, refusing to lean over the edge.
“We’ll just have to be careful. It’s either this or we give up trying to get home.” R
avion admitted, hoping it would spur the once bald warrior into action.
Demetrix dropped his pack and removed a long bundle of rope from the side. “Would you say that’s about eighty feet to the bridge?”
Ravion stole a quick glance, judging the distance. “About. Certainly no more than a hundred.”
Demetrix sized a foot between his hands and measured the twisted hemp. Counting silently he estimated roughly one hundred and fifty feet. Sighing, he placed the two ends together and quickly ran the rope through his hands ensuring it stayed together. “We'll have to be careful. I don't think there's enough to reach the bottom, but it won't be too far a drop. Just make sure you don't slip when you land.”
He approached one of the thicker trees and looped the fold around its base. Running the tails through, he pulled tight, making sure it would hold. The tree didn't budge. Nodding his contempt, he swiftly whipped the tails, watching them fall over the edge and disappear into the depths below. Holding the rope out for Ravion and stepped aside. “You want the honors?”
Snaking the rope over one boot and under the other Ravion inched toward the edge, keeping the rope taut. Feeling his weight leave the ground he gently swung away from the bluff, suspended over the gaping chasm below. Keeping his hands loose around the hemp, he lifted his foot and slowly slid toward the bridge. Reaching the bottom he locked his grip, extending himself as far as he could. His feet were just barely able to toe the slick surface. Letting go he bent at the knees, absorbing the minor shock. Careful to keep his footing,he backed away, scanning the area.
“You’re up.” Demetrix handed the rope to Gareth.
Gareth cautiously took it, fighting himself to let go of the tree. He looked down at the increasing distance and back to the young dalari. Swallowing hard he looked down again.
The Order of the Trident: Speculum (Eldarlands Book 2) Page 26
