Flare considered for a moment and then nodded. “I would agree. I don’t believe he’ll let anyone remain free if he can prevent it.” He paused briefly, and he and the king studied each other. “Will you help me?”
“I’m not ready to commit to entering the war, but I will help you get to Saprasia.”
“Yes,” Flare said slowly, “how exactly will you do that?”
The king motioned them to follow and he led them from the room. They walked through the hallways of the palace and servants hurriedly ducked out of their way. After a few moments, they exited the building and the king led them into a tunnel headed away from the city.
Flare was surprised that they were leaving the city and quickly summoned his spirit, just in case this was a trap. He looked around and realized the king’s guards were following at a respectful distance.
The king led them through a large passage which they followed for about half an hour. The passage was quite large and there were many other dwarves moving through. Some going and others coming. They started at the sight of their king and quickly parted to let him through.
They passed several other tunnels opening off of the main passage, but the king did not turn aside. Eventually they reached a sealed door set into the right hand wall. Two dwarven guards stood on either side of the door and they stood a little straighter when they realized who was approaching.
The king stopped in front of this door and motioned for one of his own guards to approach. The guard hurried up and the king said, “Stand guard in the hallway. I won’t be long.”
“Sir?” the guard asked, his eyes flicking to Flare and then back to the king, “shouldn’t a guard or two go with you?”
King Vognar smiled, “No. I will be quite all right.” He then turned and inserted an ancient looking key into the door lock and the door swung open. “Grab those packs,” he said to Belgil and Holgar and the two dwarves took two packs from the King’s Guard.
Vognar walked in the lead and then came Flare, followed by Belgil and Holgar. They entered another passage, this one even wider and taller than the one they had just left, but this passage looked like it hadn’t been used in years. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust and broad swathes of the light producing mold appeared to have died away. The affect was that this tunnel was much darker than the others that Flare had travelled.
They walked for a quarter of an hour and the tunnel ended before two enormous locked doors. The king once again pulled a key from his pocket and these two doors swung easily open.
A circular room lay beyond the doors. It wasn’t a large room, maybe thirty to forty feet wide. Off to the left was what looked like a doorframe. The frame was made of stone and was several feet from the wall. Two vertical stone pillars made the sides and one horizontal slab lay across the top. The width of the frame was at least ten to fifteen feet. It didn’t appear to serve any purpose.
The wall opposite the doorframe, off to their right, was covered in a very detailed map. A cursory glance told Flare that it showed the location of the dwarven cities, outposts, and mines. Something was wrong with the map, however, it showed many more dwarven strongholds than actually existed. He studied the map for several long moments and then turned to the king. “How old is that map?”
King Vognar sighed, “It is from before the Third War of the Races and it was nearly our undoing.”
Silence greeted this grave pronouncement and Flare glanced at Belgil and his cousin. Judging by their looks, they hadn’t known this either. He turned to study the map again. He moved closer and noticed for the first time that there was a hole drilled in the map next to every dwarven outpost. He finally turned back to the dwarves, “How? Why?”
“You know of the Faerum?”
“Yes,” Flare answered. He knew the Faerum had all died in the Third War of the Races, due to some great folly on their part, but he didn’t know what they had done.
“The Faerum were our closest allies. They treated us better than the humans, or elves, did. We responded in like fashion and forged a close bond with them. We began building outposts near their cities and they welcomed us. They were our best trading partners.”
“I don’t see any problem so far,” Flare said.
“One of their kings was a wizard, a very powerful wizard, and he created the doorway,” Vognar waved his hand in the direction of the stone frame. “It allowed the dwarves and the Faerum to travel between our respective cities. We made things for them and they traded the things we can not get under the earth.”
“Wait!” Flare said, interrupting. “You mean this frame,” he paused, the words sticking in his throat. “You mean this allows you to travel to Saprasia?”
“It allows us to travel to any dwarven or Faerum outpost, as long as they existed before the Third War of the Races and had a similar door on their side.”
“You said this was nearly your undoing. What did you mean?” Flare asked.
Vognar swallowed hard. “The goblins captured a small Faerum town. They took it by surprise, no one even suspected the goblins were in the vicinity. We believe that they then tortured the survivors into telling them how to use it,” he paused again, like he didn’t want to go on.
“And then?” Flare prompted.
“Then they used the doorway to launch sneak attacks on dwarven and Faerum cities.”
Flare gasped in realization. It was the perfect backdoor, the perfect way to sneak into an enemy’s city without them being alerted.
Vognar motioned to the wall. “Before this tragedy, there were eleven major dwarven cities. We lost five of them within a week and we didn’t even know it was happening. Our outposts and mines were overrun and our people slaughtered.”
“How did you stop it?” Flare asked.
“Our adversary made a mistake,” Vognar answered. “They invaded a small outpost in the White Mountains. They thought they had killed all of the guards that were stationed in the doorway room, but they were mistaken. A single dwarf yet lived. The goblins thought him dead and began their attack. They left the doorway room and he was able to activate the doorway and get a warning out.”
Flare nodded but remained silent in the face of such bravery.
“It was long ago decided that this would not be spoken of except from King to crown prince. This is our shame.”
“How did you keep the goblins from coming through that doorway?” Flare asked, pointing to the stone frame.
“The wizard who built this gave us an ingenious way of activating it,” Vognar said. He pointed to the map, “Do you see those holes next to each of the towns?” Flare nodded and he continued, “To travel from one town to another, you put the doorway key in the hole beside the town that you wish to visit.”
Flare nodded, “But what keeps the goblins from coming here?” he asked again.
Vognar walked over and pointed to a hole in the map. “Do you know what city this is?”
Flare recognized the location immediately. “Yes,” he said, “that’s where we are. That’s Az’ha’rill’hadell.”
Vognar nodded, “Yes. In order for this doorway to receive guests, the key must be in the hole that corresponds to Az’ha’rill’hadell. If the key is removed, then no one can use this portal to travel here. Do you understand?”
He hesitated and then Flare nodded. “I think so.” A sudden worrisome thought occurred to him and he gave voice to it, “How do we know that the doorway in Saprasia was left to receive visitors?”
“First of all,” Vognar said, “the doorway to Saprasia was destroyed when the city was destroyed. I’m going to have to send you to the dwarven mine of El’alador, which is nearby. And as to whether or not you can travel to that doorway, we will have to try and see.”
“So, if we connect to this mine of yours and there are goblins standing beside the portal, can they burst through to here?” The king nodded and Flare was silent for several long moments, considering. Finally, he nodded, “Let’s try.”
“Before we do,�
�� Vognar said, “you must understand that once you go to Saprasia, you cannot come back. As soon as you go through the portal, I will remove the key. You will not be able to travel back here.”
Flare nodded, resisting the urge to smile. The king didn’t know it but Flare didn’t need the doorway to travel back here. Now that he had been to Az’ha’rill’hadell, he could use wizardry to return here whenever he wished.
The king turned to face Belgil and Holgar. “There is a reason that I allowed you to hear these things. I want you to go with him. Help him and see him through the mine.”
Belgil did not hesitate before nodding his head, “Of course, my king.”
Holgar was slower than Belgil, but he too nodded his assent.
“Wait a moment,” Flare said eyeing the two dwarves. “This will be dangerous. You may not survive this journey.”
Belgil grinned. “There is nothing more honorable than dying to protect one’s family, friends, and people. We understand the risks.”
After a moment Flare nodded, “All right. Let’s see if we can get to this mine of yours.”
Vognar motioned to the two packs that the dwarves held. “Inside are provisions and your axes.” The two dwarves nodded and the king pulled another key from his pocket. This one looked very much different than any key Flare had ever seen before. The key consisted of two small rods in the shape of a tee. The key was held by the shorter rod, while the longer piece was shoved into the hole. The king held the key up to a hole in the White Mountains.
The small hole was surrounded by dwarven runes and there were quite a lot of other holes all along the mountain range. Flare hoped the king didn’t make a mistake and send them to the wrong place.
The king hesitated with the key resting against the wall beside the hole. “Get next to the doorway. If it opens, jump through and I will remove the key.”
“Thank you,” Flare said and then moved up next to the doorway. Belgil and Holgar moved to join him and they all stared blankly through the doorway at the far wall. Both Belgil and Holgar held their axes ready in case they walked into a horde of goblins.
“Luck to you,” Vognar said and slid the key into the hole.
For just a moment, Flare thought it had failed. Nothing seemed to happen, but then the wall that had been visible only been three or four feet through the doorway changed. Now they were staring into another room, similar to the one in which they now stood, but in this new room the roof had nearly collapsed and the opposing wall was much farther away.
“Hurry!” the king called from behind them and as one they stepped through.
Chapter 25
Flare and the two dwarves stepped into a dimly lit room that was vaguely similar to the one they had just left. Once, undoubtedly, the two rooms had been mirror images of each other, but no more. A sizeable portion of the ceiling had collapsed and buried nearly half the room in rubble. The opposite wall, where the ancient map should have been, was completely covered by piles of rocks and sand. It seemed that they wouldn’t have been able to use the doorway to travel anywhere else, even if they had wanted to.
No sooner had they stepped through the portal, than they tensed up and Flare drew Ossendar. They could hear sounds; shouts, screams, and the unmistakable sound of metal hitting metal. Somewhere nearby, a battle was being fought.
Slowly and cautiously, they moved over to the only exit.
The battle had been going on for nearly twelve hours and Heather knew the end was coming quickly. The goblins had begun by charging up the stairs and then trying to rush the defenders, and, for the most part, they hadn’t stopped.
At first, the battle had gone well. The defenders had the advantage, but it had gone on so long that sheer exhaustion appeared likely to be their undoing. Warren and his men were out of arrows and had joined the Guardians in making a two-tiered half-circle around the passage opening. The defenders in front fought while those in the second tier acted as the backup and rested. Ever so often, the tiers would swap and those that had been in the first tier were allowed to catch their breath.
The warriors were all covered in blood. Some of it was goblin blood, but more and more of the blood was theirs.
On numerous occasions, it seemed the goblins were about to sweep the humans away, and they would have except for the magic-users. Cassandra and Mikela had repeatedly sent walls of flame through the passage and Dagan and Agminion had thrown monstrous boulders at the brutes. Without their help the battle would have already been lost. The four magic-users had pushed themselves beyond their limits and they now saved their little remaining strength.
Cassandra had already decided what her last spell would be. She did not intend to become a goblin prisoner. With her last bit of strength she planned to start a fire spell and intentionally lose control of it. It was her fervent hope that the out of control spell would kill them all.
A goblin fell dead at Enton’s feet and with a sudden realization, they realized he was the last living goblin in the chamber. This was the first pause in what seemed like hours and Heather meant to see that is was not wasted. “Hurry! Move the bodies out of the way!”
The dead goblin bodies were nearly as dangerous to the humans as were the living goblins that swarmed through the passage. The defenders had an advantage that the enemy had to come to them, but that advantage was somewhat negated when they moved their feet and nearly tripped over corpses.
They had no sooner started moving the bodies, when they had to stop. A new and more deadly surge of goblins emerged from the passage.
The Guardians were well trained and they turned to the battle with a ferocity that was nearly impossible to match. Warren and his men came close though. Whether with bow or sword they were deadly.
The goblins surging from the passage were not the white, man-sized goblins they had fought from the beginning. These goblins were taller and more muscled. Instead of white hair, these goblins were covered in thick and coarse black hair. They screamed and threw themselves into the battle.
The battle was thrown into instant pandemonium. Each defender fighting for their life.
Enton was locked in battle with a huge brute and barely deflected the monster’s initial thrust. His arms were almost numb after the hours long fight and they didn’t respond as he wanted them to.
The goblin brought his scimitar down in an overhead swing and Enton blocked the blow, feeling the jarring vibration all the way down to his toes.
Enton kicked out but his boot bounced off the creature’s thick hide and they backed away from each other.
The goblin leered at him and swung his scimitar horizontally, on a level with Enton’s shoulder. He blocked the blow, but the goblin stepped in close and brought its right fist down hard. The blow landed on the right side of Enton’s head and he was driven to one knee. Their swords were still locked together and the goblin struggled to free his. Enton knew that if the goblin got his sword free then his life was over. He lunged forward, complicating the goblin’s attempt to disentangle their swords. He dropped his right hand to his belt and came up with his knife. He jabbed the blade into the stomach of the goblin and was relieved to feel the warm blood flowing over his hand. The goblin stumbled backwards and fell to the ground; his eyes were wide and a small trickle of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
Enton forced himself to stand and looked around. Quinn lay dead, his head nearly cleaved in two. The rest were still engaged in combat with goblins. He turned and looked behind him and a sight greeted him that made his blood run cold. Mikela lay on her back with another of the brutes standing over her. The brute’s sword was raised for the killing blow and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was too far away; it would take a miracle. He screamed and lunged at the goblin, but he was over ten feet away. Things seemed to slow down and he watched the descent of the blade, knowing there was nothing he could do. He screamed again and continued his lurching stumble towards the two. His mouth dry and with nausea welling up within, he watched the blade descen
d and then stop, less than two feet above her.
Enton slid to a stop and blinked his eyes, wondering what magic this was. He barely had a moment to consider it, before the goblin was picked up by an invisible force and thrown hard against the cavern wall. The brute hit with such a horrible force that the snapping and popping of bones were clearly audible.
Mikela sat up and blinked at Enton, a sick looking smile spreading across his lips.
Reaching her, Enton pulled her to her feet and blinked at her. “Are you alright?” She nodded and he asked, “But how?”
“Must have been the sorcerers,” she said. She looked horrible. She was pale and covered in both wet and dried blood.
There was a gasp behind them and they, as one, turned to look up the shore. For a moment, neither one of them could believe what they saw. Flare and two dwarves were running to them.
Mikela and Enton stood there, their mouths hanging open, as Flare quickly descended the steep shore.
“Enton,” Heather asked from their right, “what do you see?”
“Flare,” Enton said but the words sounded distant, even to his own ears.
Flare slid to a halt before them but the two dwarves didn’t even slow down. They each had an axe out and they charged into the fight. Flare reached for Heather’s shoulder but she flinched away. He dropped his hand slowly. “Are you alright?”
“I think so,” Heather said slowly. “Is it really you? How – How did you get here?”
“In a moment,” Flare called over his shoulder. He was already moving into the battle. Even without him, the battle was going the human’s way. The dwarves had attacked with such a ferocity that the scales had been quickly tipped. Still, Flare used sorcery to grab three goblins and throw them against the wall with breathtaking force. After a moment, the goblins scattered back through the passage, leaving the Guardians all staring at Flare.
Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series Page 29
