by Sam Ferguson
“Tu’luh lives?” Talimdur asked.
“Well, I didn’t fight him alone,” Erik said. “I had all of you there with me, and the dwarves were there too.”
Talimdur folded his hands behind his back and smiled down at Erik. “Honest, and humble; that is a unique mix in such a young human.” It was almost imperceptible, but Erik saw Lepkin puff up ever so slightly at Talimdur’s compliment.
“Allow me to also introduce the others with us,” Lepkin said. He pointed to Marlin first. “This is Marlin, the Prelate of Valtuu Temple.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Marlin said with a slight bow. Talimdur returned the gesture.
“Next to Marlin is Tatev, the librarian of their order. I would wager he is smart enough to rival any of the best scholars in the Middle Kingdom.”
Tatev smiled wide and offered a short nod to Talimdur. The elf smiled back.
“This is Lady Dimwater, the best sorceress in the Middle Kingdom.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” Talimdur said with a deferential nod of his head.
“And finally we have Jaleal, a displaced gnome who stands shoulder to shoulder with the best warriors in the land.”
“He means that metaphorically, of course,” Jaleal put in with a wink.
Talimdur chuckled and nodded. “That is a mighty spear you hold.”
Jaleal held it out before him proudly. “This is Aeolbani.”
Talimdur nodded and turned his gaze back to Lepkin. “Come, let us take you to the others.”
Lepkin turned back to Dimwater and looked at her. Despite their triumph, there was a sadness on her face. Her eyes had lost their sparkle and her mouth was turned slightly down at the corners. He went to her and she looked up at him. “I am sorry,” he said. “If it is any consolation, I have a friend in Stonebrook. He has a beautiful garden where we can marry. I know it isn’t the wedding you envisioned…” Lepkin’s words trailed off.
“That will do,” Dimwater said softly. She patted his arm and walked past.
Lepkin watched her for a moment and then caught up to walk beside Erik, letting Dimwater have her space for now. Erik and Lepkin stayed close to Talimdur as they made their way back through the palace and out into the courtyard. The other elf warriors stayed ahead of the group, just to make sure there were no other lingering enemies.
As the group left the city through a man-sized hole in the northern wall, Lepkin paused and looked back to Tualdern. “How is it that the city became so desolate?”
Talimdur stopped and his slender shoulders hung low. “It didn’t start with the werewolves,” he said. “Let me show you.” He led them into the nearby foothills and pointed to several large holes in the ground. “These tunnels were caused by sand trolls.”
“Sand trolls?” Lepkin echoed. “I thought they lived far to the east in the wilds?”
“Normally that is so. The trolls are nocturnal, so we didn’t notice them entering the valley at first. They burrowed in from the nearby mountains and were able to establish themselves fairly well before we caught sign of them. At first we thought they had come in search of game. They preyed upon rabbits, mountain goats and the like. Then they grew bolder and attacked one of our scouts. Naturally we fought with them and set about exterminating them.”
“They stayed to fight with you?” Tatev asked. “Sand trolls would not do that unless they were forced to. They almost always retreat from an organized army.”
Talimdur nodded. “We were so focused on ridding our lands of the creatures that we failed to consider that fact until it was too late. The fight was bitter and the sand trolls fought extremely aggressively. Looking back on it now, their desperation should have made it obvious. They couldn’t go farther into the valley because they only are active at night, meaning they would be destroyed by the ghosts and ghouls in the valley. We should have realized that they only chose to remain and fight with us because they were afraid of something much worse.”
“The werewolves,” Tatev deduced. “They were being hunted by werewolves.”
Talimdur nodded. “Werewolves are also nocturnal. Usually their clans are small, no more than twenty or so in a pack. This one was different. There were hundreds of them, maybe even a couple thousand. The beasts showed cunning that we lacked. They waited until we had destroyed the last of the sand trolls. Then they scavenged the bodies. By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late. The monsters descended on us at night, catching our fair city off guard. We fought courageously, but for every one we killed, they devoured five of us. Some of our people were turned, adding to the monsters’ ranks while depleting ours. We lasted only for three days above ground. Then, we were forced to take refuge in the very tunnels the sand trolls had burrowed.”
“The werewolves are too large to fit in the burrows,” Tatev said with a knowing nod. “It was a smart move.”
“It was desperate,” Talimdur corrected. “Every runner we tried to send out was caught and killed. The werewolves started hunting us in the day as well as the night, so that we could never send word for help. We were locked in a losing battle of wills. If you all had not come tonight and drawn the beasts back into the city, I am sure they would have won eventually.”
“How did you know we were here?” Dimwater asked, repeating her earlier question.
Talimdur turned to her with a serious gaze. “We had an interesting visitor come to us, a ghost from the valley who told us of your plight.”
Dimwater nodded slowly. “And you trusted the ghost?” she asked skeptically.
Talimdur shrugged. “I was alive during the days that Licenien walked among the living. I know his treachery, and the curse laid upon him after his death, but I also know how to tell when he is being honest.”
“How is that?” Dimwater asked.
“He swore to me upon the souls of his ancestors, and promised to relinquish his hold on the valley if he were lying. A Tarthun, as I am sure Tatev knows, holds ancestors and land more sacred than anything else. He would not have made the oath falsely. Besides, he also told me about the boy here. There was a fear in the ghost’s voice. I don’t understand what his reasons are for helping our side after all this time, but his worry was genuine. He doesn’t want the Champion of Truth to die any more than we do.” Talimdur pointed to a nearby tunnel. “We are in here. It will be a tight fit, but it is best to spend the night here and then we will scout the city in the morning.”
Lepkin pulled Erik aside and motioned for the others to follow Talimdur into the tunnel. When everyone had disappeared he looked down into Erik’s eyes. “Tomorrow, we will hide the mithril box deep in the well. That way, we will not bring it closer to Tu’luh when we begin to hunt him.”
Erik nodded. “Will it be safe here?”
Lepkin shrugged. “The elves will do their best.”
“What if more werewolves come?” Erik asked.
“We will just have to pray that they don’t.”
*****
Al drummed his fingers on the oaken table, staring blankly at the silver goblet before him. Faengoril had finished describing the battle at Valtuu Temple, along with the casualty list. All things considered, things could have been much worse. Even still, losing twenty cavedog riders was a heavy price to pay, and much worse than any encounter the cavedogs had faced as far back as Al could remember. He wondered how Erik was faring, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty that he had not been there at the temple to protect him. Worse still, he blamed himself for not seeing through Tu’luh the Red’s treachery. It was understandable for humans to be hoodwinked, but he was a dwarf. He should have seen it coming. It all made so much sense now. How could he not have known?
Al felt a foot nudge his leg under the table. He looked up from his thoughts to see Alferug staring at him. Al could tell by the look on his counselor’s face that he had missed something. The dwarf king turned to look up to Faengoril. The stocky dwarf held his temper behind a heated sigh, but he regained his composure and repeated what he had las
t said.
“I believe, with everything that is going on, we have to divide our forces. It is not the best strategy, but it is the only one that makes sense. If the Tarthuns have threatened the northern pass, then we should send a small force up north. However, the bulk of our army should be split. Half of it going to investigate this new pass that the trapper told you about, and the other half going south to aid Lepkin and Erik.”
“I still think that is too many warriors to send to this supposed new pass. We don’t even know if this trapper was telling the truth,” the minister of commerce said.
“Why would he lie about it?” Lady Arkyn said.
Faengoril leaned forward, planting his knuckles on the table. “She is correct, he had no reason to make it up.”
“Unless he was a Tarthun spy sent to mislead us,” another pointed out.
Al sighed and leaned forward. He had had enough of the debate. “We march according to Faengoril’s plan. Keep a reserve in the mountain of two hundred dwarves, so we can either send them where they are needed in case something changes once we are all afield, or If nothing changes, then we will at least have them in addition to our home guard to bolster our defenses. We leave as soon as the supplies are ready.”
“We?” Alferug echoed questioningly.
Al nodded.
“With respect, I must advise against this, my king. Our people need to see stability.”
Al dismissed the notion with a wave. “Our people need to see that stability and hiding in the mountain are not the same thing. You will stay here, acting as steward until my return. I will see to my duty, and help Erik slay Tu’luh the Red.”
“I am sorry to say, that I must agree with Alferug,” the commerce minister said. “We cannot risk losing our king. You have no heir, and we have only just begun to reopen our trade with the outside world. Things are beginning to change for the better, but we need you here.”
“No,” Al said. “I am needed on the field. I swore an oath to protect Erik, and that is an oath I must keep.”
“With respect,” Alferug interjected. “You swore an oath to protect our people, and we need you here.”
“My absence will not affect our people. My place as king is on the field protecting our people from the greatest danger. Tu’luh is the most dangerous threat our kingdom faces right now. Commerce and poverty can be wrestled with after we have secured our existence.”
“As you say,” Alferug ceded.
Faengoril nodded and continued on. “I can have our forces ready to move by tomorrow morning.”
“We should go within the hour,” Lady Arkyn said. “I understand the larger force will take longer to prepare, but they will also travel slower.”
“Agreed,” Al said. “I will go with you, Peren, and Gorin just as soon as Peren is feeling up to it.”
Alferug opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped himself and sighed instead.
Al rose from the table, his chair squawking against the stone floor beneath as it slid back and away from him. He adjusted his belt and shifted his hammer on his waist. He took in a determined breath and nodded to Faengoril across from him. Faengoril returned the gesture and the meeting was adjourned.
Within moments, Lady Arkyn was beside Al. She remained silent as they made the winding trek through the tunnels of Roegudok Hall. Al appreciated that. It allowed him to let his mind wander through his thoughts undisturbed. He was new at being a leader, and his self-doubt nagged at his heart just as much as it made him furrow his brow and stare at his feet as he walked. What would his father have done with a similar situation? Would he have agreed to split his army? Would he have decided to lead a personal charge to the south?
Al couldn’t help but question his own motives. Was he truly doing the right thing? Was he dashing off to the south to defend his friend and his people, or was he doing it to fulfill his own lust for freedom and glory? He had never acknowledged it before, but he knew now that his pride was as much a motivator for him as any other altruistic reason he might try to think of. It always had been. If not for his pride, he never would have turned his back on his father to begin with. He would have studied the way of kings, and he would know what to do now. Instead, he found himself wishing his father would reappear and take the weight of the crown from off his head.
Too bad it didn’t work that way.
Al sighed and looked up to Lady Arkyn. She caught his gaze with her blue eyes and smiled gently. He thought of asking whether she thought he was doing the right thing, but he decided against it. Instead he kept the silence intact until they reached the chamber wherein they had left Peren and Gorin.
The giant warrior saw them and rose to his feet. “Your healers are very skilled,” Gorin commented. He pointed to Peren, who sat shirtless upon a stone altar while a pair of gray-haired dwarves alternated between rubbing a green ooze over his burns and then fanning smoke from a special blend of incense onto the wounds.
“I wouldn’t have believed this would work,” Peren said. “But, the pain is almost gone, and some of the skin has been restored.”
Al nodded knowingly. “We dwarves do not have a great repertoire of magical spells, but those tricks we do have are powerful enough.”
One of the gray-haired dwarves shushed them all and glowered at Peren. “Stop moving,” he said roughly.
Al moved over toward Gorin and looked up to the large man. “We are going to ride out as soon as Peren is ready,” he said.
“What is the plan?” Gorin asked.
“My forces will handle the Tarthun threat. We will go south to Ten Forts.”
“To help Lepkin?” Gorin asked.
Al nodded. “We have a dragon to kill.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Aparen and Silvi sat on a sun-bleached rock near the apex of a hill overlooking the forest they had just emerged from. The witch took out a bit of flatbread from her pack and offered a piece to Aparen. He shook his head and gestured for her to eat it all.
“You will need to eat something,” Silvi said.
Aparen shrugged. “I’m not hungry at the moment.” He stared off to the tree tops below and shook his head. “I was certain we would have found him by now,” he said.
Silvi chuckled. “It is not simply a matter of finding him,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Aparen asked.
Silvi took a bite of the flatbread and swallowed it without hardly chewing and then cocked her head to the side. “He has been here for a long time,” she said. “He has had time to alter the island to fit his needs. His magic is powerful enough to mask his presence.”
Aparen frowned. “You mean we won’t be able to find him?”
“I didn’t say that,” she countered.
“Sounded like that is what you meant.”
Silvi laughed aloud. “If it is any consolation, you should take it as a good sign that we are still alive.”
“Why?” Aparen asked.
“Because, I am more than sure he already knows we are here.”
Aparen glanced around nervously. “You mean he is watching and deciding what to do with us?” he asked.
Silvi nodded. “The good news is we are still alive, which means there is hope yet.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
Silvi shrugged. “I warned you about him before we set out to find him. Fear not. If we continue moving north, I think we shall find him.”
“How can you tell? I thought you just said he can mask his presence.”
The witch nodded. “From here we can see the valley to the north. When the sun sets there will be a few moments where the light of dusk will help me identify where he is.”
“How?” Aparen asked.
Silvi stood and pointed to the valley. “There are no trees there. It is also nestled in between several large hills which are difficult to traverse. The beaches to the south are best for ships, but the thick forests we just came from would prevent large numbers from being able to easily navigate the land. This v
alley is the best defensible position. As the light of the sun wanes, there will be a few moments during dusk where I might be able to pick out any structure in the valley. Invisibility spells are like mirrors, there is always a reflection to be found. For these kind of spells, that reflection is noticeable during dusk and twilight.”
“Can you teach me to look for it too?” Aparen asked.
Silvi nodded. “Keep your eyes to the north,” she said. “Do you know what a mirage is?” she asked.
“I have heard of them,” Aparen replied.
“Well, you are going to look for an area in the valley where the ground seems to be wavy, or even wet. Take note right now that there is only one small stream that fades off in the distance. There are no other bodies of water in the valley, so if you see anything that looks like water, or waves, then we will know the direction we have to walk.”
Aparen nodded and glued his eyes to the valley. They waited while the sun began its descent in the west. Orange and pink hues lit up the sky as if the clouds were aflame. Aparen glanced at the beauty, and then quickly turned his eyes back to the valley, scanning for even the slightest anomaly. Silvi was silent, also studying the landscape. It seemed hours that they sat upon the rock. For the longest time, nothing happened. Orange and pink gave way to reddish purple hues and the land began to darken. Then Aparen pointed to a point almost in the middle of the valley.
“There,” he said. “I see the ground looks wavy.”
The witch nodded. She raised her hands above her head and called out in an arcane tongue. A black bolt of silent lightning streaked down from the clouds and dashed itself into the area Aparen watched. Aparen expected a great thunder to rumble through the valley, but instead there was a high-pitched shattering sound, as though a great window had been blasted apart with a metal rod. The waves disappeared from the land to reveal a simple, round tower of black stone.
“Not exactly what I expected,” Aparen stated.
“Come on, we don’t have much time before he will be able to repair his spell.” Silvi jumped to her feet and began running down the hill face. Aparen was quick to follow, stumbling a bit over the loose rocks as he bounded down after her.
