Wilmurin: Land of the Druids
Page 10
‘Nothing is impossible, Bry,’ Ardag reassured her. ‘Find the scrolls we shall, but we have to have patience.’
‘Bah!’ Bry said, raising her hands.
Johan laughed at the exchange and thought it was his turn to contribute. ‘How about we just ask somebody,’ he suggested, and without waiting for a reply from his two friends he turned around and tapped an extremely large looking brute on the shoulder.
The brute turned and grunted. ‘What do you want, squirt?’ he said, with a moustache of foam from the ale.
‘Well met, sir, I was wondering if you had come across a scroll which is reported to have been sold in this lovely town of yours,’ Johan said, stuttering with fear as the man stared at him blankly.
‘First thing, mate, I am not well met and I sure as hell am not a sir,’ he replied. Ardag and Bry giggled to themselves. ‘Second thing is I have heard of such a special scroll being sold here. It sold for quite a bit of money I hear. Why? Does it belong to you? Squirt.’
Johan looked around at his friends with a smug look on his face he then turned back to the brute, ‘No, friend, I just wish to see it is all, we have travelled far to see this scroll.’
‘I think you’re lying to me, squirt,’ the brute said, poking Johan on his chest. ‘But whatever your business is I do not care. I will tell you where you can find this scroll if you give me a bag of gold. Oh, and a night with that lovely lady who accompanies you.’
Bry made to lash out at the man but Ardag stopped her. He then threw the brute a bag of coins and folded his arms, which told the man that gold would be his only payment. The man caught the bag and opened it, and counted the gold coins.
He looked at the companions and laughed, ‘Well, I guess this would be enough payment, I’ll buy me a nice whore for the night, your friend has missed out,’ he said, pointing at Bry. Johan cleared his throat as if to remind the man of the reason for payment. The man cleared his throat and continued, ‘Oh yes, the scroll. You need to go to the Dragons Tail Inn which is just up the road from here. There is a rogue who drinks there in the evenings. You will notice him by his red hood and the pipe he always smokes. He is a small, pitiful looking man but the best in Bruskany with a dagger and crossbow. His name is Palar, he knows of the scroll. He sold it.’
The companions thanked the man and left him alone. They went to collect an intoxicated Garpaw from the bar, left the tavern and made their way up the cobbled, dung filled road towards the Dragons Tail Inn.
They approached the inn, noticeable by the three tailed dragon signpost which hung outside above the door; this inn did not have any bouncers or brutes protecting it. They pushed the doors open to enter a noisy area full of drunken patrons. Some sang songs while other coaxed whores. Two men were fighting in the corner by the bar; one was on the floor being pounded by the bigger man. They did not fancy stopping to drink here; they just wanted to find Palar and leave. Ardag scrutinised the busy inn, looking for someone who matched the man’s description. Sure enough in the far right corner by the bar sat a man all on his own, his cowl obscuring his face which only lit up when he puffed his pipe. He was quite small but looked like a man not to be messed with.
The companions approached him and Bry spoke to the man first who looked at the four strangers warily. ‘Hello friend, we have come in search of quite a unique scroll,’ she said, getting right to the point.
Palar looked quite startled and immediately said, ‘I promise kind people, I won that scroll fair and square. It was mine to sell it was.’ He gazed at the companions.
‘Such matters do not worry us friend, we have come to ask who you have sold it to.’
The man sighed with relief and sat back with his hands behind his head. ‘Oh well, you can’t get it back, long gone that scroll is,’ he said taking another draw from his pipe.
Garpaw stepped forward, ‘now listen here scum, we want to know who you sold it to and then we will be gone,’ he demanded.
Ardag put a hand on his shoulder and looked to Palar, ‘I apologise for my friend’s behaviour, he has had quite a few drinks this evening,’ Palar nodded and Ardag continued, ‘we just need to know who you sold it to and then you will never see us again.’
‘I sold it to the Lord of Bruskany, who’s up in his fort at this hour; rarely does he come to the streets, too many criminals and too much trouble for one of his nobility. Lord Carlin is his name. You will never get past the gate though friends, he is very well protected. Now you owe me a few coins.’
‘Here you go, five coins for your trouble,’ Bry said sarcastically. She turned to her companions and giggled, ‘why does everything cost so much in this town?’
They decided to stay there the night and make for the lord’s keep in the morning. After a restless night they made their way up the hill towards the walls of the lord’s courtyard. It was manned by five guards in yellow dress and chainmail. They were armed with pikes which they crossed in the companions’ path as they approached.
Ardag spoke first, ‘Greetings from the north. I am Ardag, son of the Eagle. This is Bry of the Clan of the Bear and that is Garpaw from the Clan of the Wolf. The other is a companion of ours; we have come here to speak to Lord Carlin.’
‘No visitors!’ one of the guards replied bluntly. ‘Now piss off.’
‘We are here on an important errand, you would not want to risk pissing a couple of druids off, would you friend?’ Bry said folding her arms.
‘I assure you my wolf form would happily tear you petty bastards to pieces,’ Garpaw added with a smile.
The guard looked frightened and ordered his men to open the gates and escort the four to the lord. The courtyard was completely different from the rest of the town, marble floor covered the ground and wealthy people in rich clothes went about their daily business. They entered the large keep and made their way to the main entrance hall.
‘Wait here,’ their escort said and he walked off to a door on the far side of the entrance hall.
‘Thanks,’ Ardag replied. He then looked to Johan, ‘Johan you must not say a word about who you are, we cannot risk the count finding out you have returned. Petty humans like these will happily sell you out for their freedom. I’ll do all of the talking.’
‘I feel uneasy here, let’s just hope we can get what we came for and then be on our way,’ Johan replied.
They waited for quite a while, then they heard a loud creak as the door in front of them opened. Out walked a man in a rich, well-kept, green noble robe. He was flanked by guards with the same dress as the gate guards.
Lord Carlin approached the companions; Johan noticed him scrutinising them with his nose up. His arms were folded and he had a stiff upper lip. He turned his head to his side and whistled. Out of the same door came a blonde haired woman wearing nothing apart from a rag around her lower half. She walked towards him; in her hand she carried a glass of wine which she handed to Lord Carlin, and then walked off back into the room.
Bry looked on in disgust. ‘I see you live here in amazing comfort while the rest of your town live in squalor,’ she said with a snarl. Ardag shot her a warning look and she stopped at that.
‘Well, if you have come to comment on the way I run Bruskany then I suggest you leave here, now,’ the lord said in a well-spoken, superior accent. ‘I am the lord of this town. Now, tell me, what business do druids and the son of the Eagle have here?’
‘Greetings, Lord Carlin, we have come to ask about a certain item you have recently purchased,’ Ardag said.
‘You have come here for the scroll? Do you wish to see it? Or do you wish to steal it from me?’ Lord Carlin replied sarcastically.
Ardag sucked in a breath of air and continued, ‘That scroll belongs to my father. We will pay whatever price you have paid for it.’
‘Interesting. It is very boring and dull but seeing as you want it so much you can have it, it wasn't the one I was looking for, but I want double what I paid for it, no less, and it is yours,’ he said with a greedy smile.
‘Bastard? Well that triples the price, friend,’ Lord Carlin added.
Ardag paid the man after shooting Garpaw an irritated expression for his comment. Lord Carlin walked back into his room and returned later with a plain wooden box; he approached Ardag and opened it. Inside the box was a rolled up scroll sealed with wax. Johan felt a shiver creep up his spine as he stared down at it.
Without any more words with the greedy lord they left the keep and returned to the busy and smelly streets of Bruskany.
Outside the gate they huddled in a circle and Johan was the first to speak, ‘that was easy, where do we go to now?’
Ardag smiled at him and shook his head, ‘That was easy, but do not get too complacent. The other two scrolls will be much harder to retrieve. First thing we do is make our way to Sworcadia, there is a scroll there, my father said, but it is guarded. It is some journey to Sworcadia from here. We keep this box closed until we have all three, then we can take it to my father’
Johan and Garpaw nodded their approval but Bry looked concerned, ‘we have to pass through the Whispering Forest to get to Sworcadia – walking around it would be too long. Ardag, that journey is dangerous.’
‘It is our only choice Bry, do not worry.’
‘I do not worry about things, Ardag. I just fear for the safety of Johan—’
‘Wait, what is the Whispering Forest?’ Johan interrupted, confused.
Bry turned to face him and sighed, ‘It is a small but dense forest which leads to Sworcadia, it is said that there are whispers which lead men to their death. They say if someone hears a whisper and follows it they do not return.’
‘A mere ghost story, little bear, such a thing does not exist. It is just like any other forest,’ Garpaw said dismissively.
‘Don’t come running to me if anything happens to you, wolf,’ she replied, turning her nose up.
‘He is right Bry, they are just ghost stories to keep people away from the forest,’ Ardag reassured taking out his pipe to smoke narnum.
‘Besides, you have to be more worried about Sworcadia, they say that place is haunted after nearly two decades of no one living there. Golems are the least of our worries, beautiful bear,’ Garpaw said with a wink.
‘Deadly forests? Golems? Haunted castles? What have I got myself into?’ Johan asked rhetorically.
‘You got yourself into a whole heap of shit, Night Hunter,’ Garpaw said, laughing. ‘But not to worry, you have us for protection, and anyway you’re not so bad with a blade. Those ghosts will be shitting themselves.’
‘Enough talk people, let’s get moving to Sworcadia and collect this second scroll,’ Ardag said, picking up his equipment and leading the way south towards Johan’s old family home, Sworcadia.
7
Deep Dark Tunnels
Many miles to the south of Bruskany and just south east of Vandaloria lay the underworld city of Shartak, home of the Black Widow Clan. The land surrounding Shartak consisted of dirt and stone, nothing beautiful grew in this land. There was a large dirt mound in the centre of the land with a hole leading downwards, which was so dark it was as if it led into to the abyss. The hole led to a tunnel which went on for a mile, and then into the world of the Black Widows.
Count Darkool, along with two council members Count Drakar and Count Kharki, the necromancer Shalon and a dozen vampire soldiers had come to Shartak to meet and speak with the Black Widow about their plans for the future.
They were met by guards just outside the entrance hole and were led down a deep dark tunnel lit only by the occasional lamp. They walked for half an hour in the cold, dusty tunnels until they came to a door made from a thick, strong, white web. The guard opened the door and they entered a vast cavern which had been carved into the soil of this land. There were market places and dwellings made from clay inhabited by the people of Shartak; after years of living underground their skin had turned grey and cold. They regarded the newcomers with much curiosity, some even gasped at the sight once they saw that these guests were in fact vampires.
The grey-skinned humans littered the ground of the cavern, but even more astonishing were the giant spiders living on huge webs on the ceiling. Every other web had evidence of the remains of what the spiders had eaten; it was apparent that every now and again they would grab one of the residents of Shartak if their main source of food, prisoners, had run out. This metropolis stretched for miles.
Count Darkool knew why this city required no walls or defences, the spiders alone would prove to be a valuable asset, along with the long narrow tunnel. The members of the Vandalore Clan carried on walking through the city until they reached a ladder dead in the centre of the city’s main square, which led up to another web door in the ceiling.
One by one they climbed the ladder and went through the door. They entered another cavern which was the size of a large room, rather than the enormous underground cavern which made up the city. Exactly in the middle, surrounded by a retinue of servants and soldiers, was the Black Widow sitting upon her webbed throne. To her right was an enormous black widow spider feasting on an unlucky corpse.
She stood up with a start as she saw Count Darkool standing in front of her. ‘Greetings, Count Darkool, you risk much to come to my city,’ she said, swallowing.
He smiled and nodded, ‘Indeed it is risky. But I must see the beautiful Black Widow in person and the famous army she has acquired.’
‘You flatter me, Count Darkool,’ she said, with a seductive and sexy voice. She looked over to her right at the giant black widow spider and spoke to it. ‘Selena darling, be a good girl and weave our guest a seat.’
Selena, her daughter in spider form, listened to her mother and instantly spun Darkool a seat directly in front of the Black Widow. She hissed at her mother in the spiders’ language and scuttled back to her meal.
‘Very kind of your daughter, mistress,’ Darkool said, gazing into the Black Widow’s beautiful red eyes. ‘How went the council of druids?’
‘Very successful,’ she said, licking her lips; she pointed her finger towards the corpse her daughter consumed. ‘That is what is left of King Bemnom.’
‘Ah, very good. You have disposed of one enemy already. And what of his powerful clan?’
‘It is run by his son, King Brehan, who aided in his father’s death. His other children are dead by my hand also, as well as Johan son of Haramithir.’
‘Are you certain of their demise, Black Widow?’ Count Darkool asked, sounding extremely sceptical.
‘When my daughter Felecia returns with their heads you will have your proof.’
Count Darkool nodded his approval, ‘So with that clan sorted what happens to the others?’
It was now the Black Widow’s turn to smile. She rubbed her hands and replied, ‘Once King Brehan returns to his home Bemon, he will gather his army and together we will wipe out the northern clans.’ The Black Widow, now with eyes full of excitement, carried on, ‘After the northern clans are destroyed I will then wipe out the Clan of the Bear and claim the north as yours.’
Darkool sat still for a while not saying a word. The room was silent with anticipation. He was indeed happy with this plan and it fit well into his own. The north held three powerful clans, the bears, the wolves and the panthers; of course not forgetting the Eagle. But there was one thing that concerned him.
Darkool finally spoke, ‘A good plan, my lady, but one thing concerns me.’
‘Go on.’
‘Once your plan is executed and these clans are destroyed, what happens to you?’
The Black Widow knew this was coming and her nerves showed in her expression. ‘Once the north has been taken I shall offer it to you as a gift. I will remain your ally and stay here. There will be no moves against you. I join you for the freedom and safety of my people,’ she said boldly.
He didn’t believe her, but her plan would work for now. ‘If that is your word then I welcome your
allegiance, Black Widow.’ He liked her cunning and her daring. She would make a fine ally for now, until the time came for her to be disposed of.
It was the Black Widow’s turn to ask a question, ‘Now you know my plan, what is yours? Where do you strike your first blow?’
Count Darkool laughed with confidence. ‘With the help of Shalon here I have amassed an army far greater than all of the armies of this world combined, and I have an endless supply of soldiers who will do my bidding. Wilmurin and its clans will fall, but first Flordonium will burn,’ he said with a sadistic smile.
The Black Widow smiled with excitement and stood to grasp Count Darkool’s hand in agreement. They agreed when to strike, and then Count Darkool and his party took their leave of Shartak.
Once outside the great underground city Count Drakar turned to Darkool. ‘My lord, do you believe what the Black Widow says?’ he asked in a hushed tone.
‘I have reasons to think she sets out to deceive us, master,’ Count Kharki added.
Count Darkool nodded his agreement, ‘I believe she means what she says with regard to taking the north. Once she has done that we shall see what happens, she cannot hope to challenge the power of the Vandalore Clan and its legions.’
‘Will you kill her eventually?’ Count Drakar asked.
‘Maybe soon I will, my lieutenant. But only time will tell. I will keep a close eye on her. First, we return to Vandaloria, and ready my army for the invasion of Wilmurin.’
Katrina entered the chamber just after Count Darkool had left; she had heard the whole exchange from her room just behind the Black Widow’s throne chamber. Her mother looked at her with a smile of malicious intent, ‘That went well, do you not think Katrina?’
‘It went well indeed Mother. I was right about the powerful charm he exudes, wasn’t I?’
‘He is a rather charming vampire and far more attractive than the other members of that clan of his.’
‘Do you think we can trust him?’ Katrina asked.