The Fires of Starpoint Mountain

by Bill Albert

  "All the gods will turn their backs on you for this, Krove," the Sixth Minister growled angrily at him. "Even the Invisible Gods will believe this is beneath them."

  "All minor gods compared to me," Krove said wild eyed. "I, and I alone, makes the choice of life and death," he said with insanity in his eyes. "For you, little giant, I choose death!" With one swift move he swung his sword to decapitate his prisoner.

  The Sixth Minister jumped up at his desk. Wide-awake now he dropped back into his chair breathing heavily. He wiped the sweat from his four head and brushed his beard to straighten out the tangled strands. He leaned forward and put his head into his hands until his nerves calmed.

  Once he was breathing normally, he stared out the broad windows facing south and saw the sun was just barely above the horizon on the west. The shadows were creeping their way eastward and it would soon be dark.

  He thought about rolling and smoking some of the long, dark grass that prospectors had discovered growing in the yellow range of the Rainbow Mountains. It was quite good. He smoked it twice weekly and enjoyed the flights of fancy that followed, but decided tonight was too important to be distracted.

  It wasn't long before the Second Minister arrived, and they waited impatiently for over an hour. It was dark outside when they heard the brief tapping on the wooden roof beams and a dark clad figure swung from the roof and expertly landed inside the open window. The figure had a long letter to strap to its back like an arrow. It quickly pulled the hood back and revealed it to be a female dwarf.

  She moved carefully and watched every step she took as she walked to a large table. The black robes swung lightly and there were hints of many possible weapons she carried out of sight she was obviously someone not to be messed with.

  "I'm glad to see you," the Sixth Minister said.

  "Thank you, I am honored to do good for you," the dwarf replied.

  "How many were lost?"

  "Three out of eight, sir" she reported sadly.

  The Sixth Minister winced at the bad news and said, "I want to make sure their families, if they had any, are given something to help compensate for their loss."

  "Thank you, sir," she nodded. "I will make sure they remember their loved ones."

  "We will remember them with honor."

  "Thank you, sir. I am honored to do good for you. May I make my reports?" She asked glancing at the Second Minister.

  "Yes, this is my friend and confidant. I trust him as much as I trust you."

  "Understood. We weren't able to get inside the forges they have out there, but we are able to confirm that there is some massive operation taking place. They are carving through the green mountain range and a massive rate and funneling all the iron they can into the forges."

  "Are they making weapons and armor?" The Sixth Minister asked quickly.

  "No, those forges are still working but they are making less than their usual amounts. Any extra hands they can have are working on a massive forge. It's also guarded quite heavily. We took our losses trying to get inside its," she said.

  "What do you suspect? What's your opinion?"

  We couldn't get into that factory or anything around it," she admitted reluctantly. "However, we checked some of the smaller forges, the usual ones that do traditional metals. We found this," she said and pulled the hard leather tube from her back. She popped it open and rolled the drawing onto the table. "Honestly, sir, I don't know what it is."

  Both ministers leaned over the table and press their hands against the edges of the paper to view it entirely. The Sixth Minister finally sat down with his elbows resting on the table to support him.

  "I know what it is," the Second Minister said in a shocked whisper. "I've seen this on a small scale, but nobody could get it to work. The targeting is unreliable and difficult to use."

  "If they've managed to go beyond that, in this does what it's supposed to do, it would need accurate targeting. With this you could..." the Sixth Minister said and stumbled to catch his breath.

  “You could take down a mountain," the Second Minister finished his thoughts.

  CHAPTER FOUR: THAT DAY

  Compared to the caravan he was leading even Mekon the giant looked small. He sat on the front of the first, and biggest, wagon being drawn by sturdy horses. Each of the eight wheels of the wagon was as wide as the average human was tall. The wheels were double to handle the rough road and heavy weight of the Giants that usually rode with it. The doors on both sides were barred from within and the windows had been completely boarded-up. Along with Mekon to drive the wagon there were six hobgoblin guards on the roof, three mounted on each side, and one guards sitting on a perch to watch behind them. Each guard was armed with especially cast arrows that burst into flames as they flew through the air. At night they would be doubly useful as they would make the target easier to find.

  The second wagon, almost 2/3 the size of the first, was driven by an incredibly heavy dwarf but still had the same amount of protection. The third wagon had to halflings as its drivers and just as many guards.

  In addition to that there was a fourth wagon just as large as the first. There were no guards on the sides of the wagon and only for on top. It was where the Cook's road with their supplies and those who had a few hours off-duty during the day were allowed to sleep inside it.

  There were also several noticeably large and muscular humans, four male and three females, who rode horses on each side of the caravan. They carry large and heavy war hammers and were definitely trained to use them.

  The leader of the hobgoblin militia, Che-Wing, and his two aides also rode on horseback and steadily worked their way along the caravan making sure everything was in its place.

  Acrufix had joined the caravan sometime after leaving Outbound. Sometimes he would follow it, sometimes he would lead it, and other times he would write almost unseen in the trees or feels off the road. He stayed mostly to himself and there was always a feeling, even when they couldn't see him, that he was watching.

  Despite all that there had been nine attempts to find Gallif during the first week. The six during the day had been easily repelled, only one required the archers to fire, and the other three have happened at night.

  The first attempt had snuck in just after sundown on the first night. She had been quite good just to get inside the perimeter, enough to make Mekon worry, but had not been good enough to avoid the swords of the three guards sleeping under the wagon.

  The second had been nestled among the trees waiting for the wagons to pass underneath just before dawn and had been easily spotted he had been chased out of the trees by the archers on Mekon's wagon long before they passed beneath the branch.

  The third had tried to attack just after sundown. He had been better at hiding in the tree’s unseen, but his timing was off. He jumped off the branch as the wagon passed and missed it completely making a distinct splat as he hit the hard surface road.

  Only Mekon knew were Gallif really was. Before the morning and evening meals the cooks would go to the three wagons and slide a stone plate of food through a slot. An hour later they would return and find the same empty plates lying on the ground below. There was absolutely no sign that would indicate where she was.

  ***

  As the wagon hit a particular large rut it lurched to one side and Gallif fell out of the bank and onto the splinter filled floor. She thought about getting back up but decided to just pull the torn blanket and writing pillow onto the floor. She rolled on top of it and jammed the pillow between her head in the side of the bunk. They hit another rut, but it was shallow, and the entire wagon shifted off balance until returned to flat road on the other side. She had learned to just leave the candles unlit when they hit the rougher roads. The candleholders were small and loose in the candles easily burned out. There was some indirect light coming in from the air vents and her eyes eventually adjusted to the dark.

  It wasn't like she really had much to do anyway.

  Though the prison comp
artment inside the wagon was wide enough for her to lay down and stretch it was not tall enough for her to stand. On one side was a small cabinet that was filled with dried fruit, vegetables and something else that even her attachment to nature could not recognize.

  At least the floor gave her enough room to exercise and she did so every day. She expected it could take three weeks to get to Spring Field and she made sure that she was strong and healthy.

  The wooden surface of the bunk had been Ragan and uncomfortable. There were several next in the formation and someone had even Gallif what could be a name into the woods near the center. She had tried to read the letters, but the carving hand had been so crude it made even her own handwriting look like delicate art. She had carefully used the dripping wax from the candles to fill as many of the gouges on the surface that she could, and it had at least gotten easier to sleep.

  Between bumps Gallif concentrated on where she was going and what she would do when she got there. She knew how the process of law went. She had seen it before when she was eight and a group of Goblin Blood Lords attack force had killed the Fourth Minister in the Council of Ministers. The entire family, and it seemed like 1 million other families, had gone to Spring Field to hear the outcome and, hopefully, witness the execution. They had been incredibly lucky to get there early and were able to camp less than a mile away from the gates. She remembered how the condemned the goblins were brought out and, one by one, the Council of Ministers had condemned them to death. It had to be unanimous and the Third Minister himself had been the first to pass judgment before they were hung.

  That was where she would make her move. As the heartless and wicked Third Minister stood to condemn her, she would deliver eight words that would give her power. She would use that to expose his crimes or, if nothing else, bring about his death.

  She tensed for a moment as that realization hit her and then relaxed again. She had spent her life worshiping and defending the Giant Lords and now she thought how, if she had to, she would kill one without regret. It was a reminder of just how much things in changed. It also reminded her just how wrong everything had been.

  The carriage rocked again she rolled to one side nearly hitting her head against the foot of the bunk. She steadied herself again feeling tired and as the road steadied, she let her thoughts wander.

  She had been relieved to see Rosario again and was glad she appeared to be doing well. Rosario had been the best healer anyone had ever seen, even the instructors had said that, and wondered if working for the Giant Lords in Outbound had been a choice. She was too good to be just an aide somewhere.

  She also couldn't help but let herself think about Rosario's kiss. About how warm and sweet her lips had been. All that time at the school they had been together, and she had never thought it would be like to kiss her. That was before the fall of the mountain, Gallif thought. That was before she spent that night with Maura. Sweet and wonderful Maura who had taken her heart and body. Who had paid for it with her life.

  "NO!" Gallif shouted at the top of her lungs and set up. "NO! Do not let yourself feel like that," she spit into the air. "Concentrate! Prepare! Know where you are headed," she scolded herself then climbed up to sit on the bunk. The wagon hit a small brought in the road, but it wasn't enough to cause much shaking.

  "It's not my fault Maura died," she said in a voice ringing with exhaustion. "It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault Luvin died," she said that determinedly. "It wasn't my fault mom or dad died."

  It was Jakobus, she told herself and shivered as if she'd been stung by a bee. They died in a fire, she argued but another part of her thoughts reminded her that the fire was started by Jakobus. She didn't know that; she thought and slap the wall of the wagon out of frustration.

  "He didn't start that fire!" She said out loud and hit the wall again. She just couldn't stop thinking about the fires that he had admitted starting. She fought to deny that they were talking about the same fire. Yet the time and the damage done was similar.

  Despite everything she wanted to believe he could have started it.

  ***

  On the evening of the 11th day of travel Mekon looked at the landscape ahead for a place to stop for the night. On the previous day they had turned northwest and were headed towards Spring Field in a more direct fashion. They were still far enough south in the Land of Starpoint that there were plenty of farms and open spaces to spend the night. The hills were getting steeper and they would leave the farmland in the next two days. Then it would be another week to the gates of Spring Field.

  Occasionally Acrufix would right alongside him in the wagon and they would talk. The conversations were usually about the conditions of the road and the roots they were taking and were always short. Several times a day the armored writer would go ahead as a scout. He had done that several hours ago and had not yet returned.

  Mekon sighed thinking how, if he could, he would find a way to delay their arrival. He had hoped for at least a day or two of rain to slow them down, but the skies had been uncooperative. He knew Gallif had not assassinated the King or kill the guards trying to escape in Outbound.

  As they travel, he had occasionally spoken with the owners of the fields they had camped in and some of the citizens they met as they pass through our stop for supplies and villages. Many were quick to tell about how shocked they were over the death of King Paleth. He had not been surprised of the number who could tell him exactly what they were doing when they were formed with the tragic news. They could describe that moment in great detail, and many had explained how they had cried. One dwarven female was rocking her baby to sleep when her human husband had walked into the room crying. Another human had told him how he had just sat down for breakfast when his children burst into the room with the news. The information had been passed from person to person quite fast. They may have been informed about the death at different times of day, but they would have that shared memory of exactly where they were at that moment.

  Those stories only helped double Mekon suspicion of what had actually happened. Tracking himself back into the swamp he knew that was the same day that Blasterfink, the former warden of Gunter Prison, had been with Gallif. The Wharton had been revealed to have struck some hidden deals with the Others and various types of corruption Mekon had no doubt the former warden had been with Gallif in the swamps that day.

  Assassinate the King in Spring Field and be back to the swamps to meet at the prison on the same day. He knew it was possible if she had jump cast, but she would have had to have been exact in her jumps.

  Why, he wondered, if she could jump cast in to assassinate Paleth she would do it in public in front of thousands of people? Why not do its someplace in secret when no one would see her? Why not at night when there would be fewer guards?

  No, he shook his head as he saw a clearing big enough for the entire caravan to safely reside for the night. Gallif was incredibly smart, he had seen her operate, and knew that she hadn't assassinated the King. She was innocent.

  Immediately after stopping the hobgoblin guards on horseback set up the parameter and started their patrols. Those that had written on the coaches started fires and merged where they could sleep. Just as the sun went down the cooks had pots of meat and bread for them to feast on.

  Mekon worked his way around the camp checking on the individual guards to congratulate them on a job well done and to stay alert during the night. He did this at the end of every day's ride in the guards respected him for it.

  "Good evening," the chief cook said to Mekon as he reached his campfire. "Would master giant like good food tonight?"

  "As good as any other night," he smiled at the tiny hobgoblin.

  "Good food," the cook said jumping and excitement. "Roast chicken, special sauce but don't ask me what makes it special," the hobgoblin winked.

  Mekon smiled and helped himself to plate of chicken. The sauce contained a generous amount of oreg spices, that was no secret, but the cook like to think it was.


  "You have enough food to last us two more days?"

  "Yes, two days of good food. Wife putting good food in wagons for prisoner, master giant. Wife says she not sure which wagon evil girl is in. Probably good, master giant! Wife probably poison girl if she knew," he said and let out a shriek laugh. "You make sure she stays alive and away from poisons," Mekon said with sudden seriousness.

  "Of course, master giant," the cook said and immediately gave him more fresh bread.

  "Do you save some for Acrufix?" Mekon asked.

  "No, he usually here after breakfast for some time then goes away. He's never here for dinner, master giant."

  "Fair enough," Mekon said sopping up some of the chicken gravy with the bread.

  "Last night, though, was different than other nights. Acrufix came in late and scurried around wagon for food. Even looked under wagon for some but nothing for him to find, master giant. No wanted food what I cook."

  Mekon thought about Acrufix's visit but decided not to dwell on it. As long as he kept doing what he was supposed to be doing everything would go as planned.

  CHAPTER FIVE: SHADOW ATTACK

  Several days before reaching Spring Field Mekon brought the caravan to a stop on a flat stretch of land. They had left the farmlands a few days earlier and the road had gotten more complicated as they entered the heavier forests. There were more trees and hills than before, so progress had slowed. Even though there had been no encounters for several days this particular area was an easier place defend at night, so they set up camp. The sun was setting, and the shadows of the trees were reaching across the road

  Mekon made his usual rounds walking the camp from end to end and finished with Abba just in time for the evening meal to be served. He waited for the others to eat first and made a second time that all of the torches were burning brightly. Satisfied that things were in order he helped himself to some spicy pheasant and potatoes as he mingled with his officers. Abba returned with three empty plates as he was speaking with Keta.