by J. W. Webb
The alien symbols and designs flashed neon on Zallerak’s cloak. Dazzling the surrounding dark. The cloak had shifted to purest white, flanking him from head to toe. Statue still, Zallerak cast spear after spear at the monster, who in return belched gulps of fire down on its ancient enemy.
The ravine blazed and crackled like the pits of Yffarn. Moments melded into hours. Still they fought on, wizard and monster. Fire and Ice. Neither prevailing as the night deepened in the rift. This called for mortal intervention.
Tamersane painfully crawled across joining Corin and the still bleeding Ulani. Together they summoned their strength for a fresh attack on the Ty-Tander while it was locked in its epic battle with Zallerak. Here at last was a chance.
***
Zallerak sang as he fought this ancient adversary. His many chambered mind whirled back to the distant day when he had confronted this creature before. Zallerak had been defeated that time, his kin scattered, all but destroyed. He had been stronger in those days with many others at his side.
But the Ty-Tander was no longer the horror it had been. Telcanna’s pet was old and, though it was still deadly with cunning, Zallerak sensed the creature’s doom was nigh. All things must pass in time. The bard could feel his own strength waning as the terrible blasts of flame continued to batter his shield of ice. It was weakening, thawing. He didn’t have much time.
Zallerak tugged at his inner reserve, summoning latent power. Cat-lithe, he leapt boldly towards the monster now rearing up on hind legs above him. With a sharp cry that carried with it the last of his strength, Zallerak stabbed a shaft of ice upwards pricking deep into the creature’s belly, freezing the pit of fire within.
The Ty-Tander shuddered and quaked as that chill drowned the furnace in its belly. Its deafening bellow drowned out both Zallerak’s chant and the noise of the congealing clouds that still spilled icy hail down from above.
Slowly, painfully as one defeated, the creature sank down onto its haunch, the two remaining amber lamps half closed. Sensing victory at last, Zallerak approached the monster. At that point the three warriors seized their chance, jumping up, their weapons clutched in bloodstained hands. As one they launched themselves at the Guardian.
But the Ty-Tander was ready for them. The beast raised its massive head and belched forth a last great funnel of flame (stored in its throat thus unaffected by Zallerak’s ice spear.)
And Zallerak was caught unawares. Too late the enchanter raised his ice wall. His alien cold withstood the fire but the force of the blast lifted him high like a rag doll. Zallerak’s body was carried through the air, feather light, until he crashed into the wall of the ravine.
Zallerak slunk to the earth. There he lay still as death. The fight was over and Zallerak had lost again. The monster appeared stronger than ever. It turned its wrath towards the others.
Just then Bleyne reappeared on the top of the ravine. With a great shout he discarded his long bow and leapt down upon the monster’s broad-ridged back. Balancing with a skill only he possessed, and tenuously gripping the sharp ridges of crystal scales, Bleyne commenced crawling along the creature’s hulking hide towards the hideous armoured head.
The Ty-Tander whipped its long razor-sharp tail round to swat this new pest. Meanwhile the other three men charged it with spear and sword.
The beast was confounded; never before had its prey given it so much trouble. Its iron hard body shook with the pain in its eyes and stomach. Its flame was quenched by the wizard’s ice, but it was far from defeated. Moreover, it was vengeful. Cold and cunning. The Ty-Tander still possessed its hideous strength and deadly guile.
Snake-swift, the monster lashed and hoofed out at Corin and Ulani, while Bleyne clung to its back in grim desperation, a slender knife gripped between his teeth. Ulani leapt out of the way while Corin ducked beneath a lashing forehoof. He swiped wide, got a clean hack at one of the creature’s hind legs.
Beside him, Tamersane plunged his own blade deep into the muscles of the other leg and then leapt clear. The monster slumped on its belly. Its breath steaming like a venting volcano.
Meanwhile Bleyne inched along the razor-sharp spine of the Ty-Tander, heaving himself forward; the scaly ridges cutting his hands to shreds. He ignored the pain, continued to climb. The others kept the monster busy.
Bleyne reached the back of the creatures head.
“Oh, Elanion bright Goddess of the trees, guide my blade!” Bleyne gripped the knife with both hands, reached forward and then slammed the blade’s point hard into the nearest amber eye.
That stab went deep. The Ty-Tander howled in pain and fear, kicking out and then rocking its head back and forth in agonised convulsions. Bleyne lost his perch. He was sent spinning through the air to join the prone Zallerak in a pool of melting ice. The archer’s head hit the ground with a sickening crack.
The Ty-Tander vented steam. Acid mucus seeped foul from its many wounds. The beast pinned the full malice of its one remaining eye on the three still standing.
It tore upon down them. But as it reared for a final crushing blow the Ty-Tander’s strength failed it. It stumbled, hesitated and stumbled again. Corin seized the moment, commenced hacking tenaciously at a leg with Biter, while Ulani rammed his spear into the monster’s dripping gullet.
Tamersane had salvaged Bleyne’s bow. He stood yelling and shooting arrows into the creature’s underside until it looked like an inverted pin cushion, and the ground beneath its belly glistened with the steaming glow of liquid glass—the creature’s ebbing life-force. Unbelievably it looked like they had won.
Defeated, the Ty-Tander slumped to the earth, lashing out one last time at Corin’s face with its forehoof and catching him unawares. The Guardian lifted its terrible maimed head, bellowing defiance one final time. Then that last amber lamp closed forever. The Ty-Tander was dead.
Corin didn’t have time to reflect on their victory. He’d felt his head explode with pain as the hoof struck him, pitching him through the air. The world spun as he careered towards the rocks, his arms flopping. Vaguely, Corin saw the monster’s last death throes then his head struck something hard and he knew no more.
Part Three | Beneath The Mountains
Chapter 28
The Crystal Mountains
Painfully, Corin opened his eyes. He was alive. Battered, bruised and beaten, but alive. The world still spun with sickening speed, and the pain of a thousand hammers thudded mercilessly inside his skull—but then it wasn’t every day one skewered a legendary monster.
Corin clutched his throbbing head and then tenderly probed his aching body for broken bones, discovering that miraculously, he had escaped with only a severe bruising. He squinted over to the left where the dead monster’s stinking bulk was already a cluster of flies and huge evil-looking ants.
Corin saw Tamersane groaning in the corner. The Kelwynian looked frail as a day-old foal. Corin forced himself to his knees, found his legs and then staggered over to check on his young friend. Tamersane, despite everything, had fared remarkably well. The blond nobleman’s face was bloodied and his voice was slurred when he answered Corin’s questions. Nonetheless he rose swiftly enough to help Corin search for the others.
Ulani too had survived the ordeal, although the warrior king’s body was badly gored and he had lost a lot of blood. Ulani was as tough as a boar. He’d pull through.
But when Corin saw the motionless figures of Bleyne and Zallerak his heart sank. Fearing the worst, he approached the prone archer. Bleyne’s body was battered and darkened with bruises. There was a large pool of blood still oozing from his chest. Corin swatted away flies and put his hand across the archer’s mouth. He felt nothing.
Corin straightened his back painfully and swore, cursing their ill fortune losing Bleyne. Angry, he viciously kicked out at a large stone sending it rolling towards the steaming carcass of the Ty-Tander. At that point he remembered Clouter, and staggered over to tug the longsword out of the monster’s lifeless eye.
“Za
llerak is alive,” called Ulani, his face bleak when he saw Corin’s look. “He seems to be in some kind of trance sleep, like the ones our sacred shaman induces on the mortally ill. Still, I think he will survive. His body appears intact.” Corin hardly heard.
“How is Bleyne?” Tamersane’s question did not hold out much hope.
“He is dead,” croaked Corin. He sank to the floor in exhaustion, feeling tears of anger and frustration well up inside his aching eyes.
Ulani approached and placed a huge hand on his shoulder.
“Come, Longswordsman! Don’t be glum, Bleyne wouldn’t want you moping for him.” Corin nodded but didn’t reply. Sometimes there are no words.
“We had best see to our friend.” Ulani signalled Tamersane. The two carried Bleyne’s bloodsoaked body over to rest by a shady rock. There was no chance of burying the archer in this rocky terrain, so they placed his great bow in his tattooed hands, and spread his grey fletched arrows out in ordered fashion beneath him.
Corin knelt beside his lifeless companion; he had never really known Bleyne. He felt sorry about that now. A good friend and loyal companion. Corin struggled to say a few words.
“I expect we will be joining you soon, archer,” he managed. “You were a valiant companion. Were it not for Zallerak’s magic and your skill and astounding bravery, we would be lost. Sleep now, Bleyne of the Forest. May you wake refreshed to serve your beloved goddess once again.”
Corin placed his hand on the archer’s lifeless brow.
“If ever I return north to tell the tale,” he vowed. “The whole world will know that it was Bleyne, loyal servant of Elanion, that slew the Ty-Tander in the Copper Desert. No small legacy. Farewell!”
“Surely we can’t just leave him here to be pulled apart by scavenging beasts and marauding insects?” Tamersane’s face was wet with tears, he had liked Bleyne.
“His goddess will watch over him,” replied Corin. “Come, Tamersane, we must look to ourselves; we’ve still a job to do, though how we can achieve that without water and horses, I know not!”
They left Bleyne’s body guarding the ravine. Ulani hoisted Zallerak’s prone frame over his brawny shoulder, the bard was surprisingly light for so tall a man. Gone was the great sorcerer. Zallerak looked old and frail, his blue cloak faded and torn. Even his harp looked tarnished and dulled. Corin gazed down upon him.
What has become of you, wizard? Are you lost to us as well?
The ground hissed as the last of Zallerak’s ice evaporated, filling the rocky cleft with a dense steaming fog. Far above, stars punctured the last of Zallerak’s storm clouds.
“What do we do now?” Tamersane’s face was bleak. He wiped his sword clean on his sleeve and then rammed it back in its scabbard.
“We make for Orlot,” answered Corin. “From those heights we might be able to spot the horses. Who knows?”
They gathered what was left of their belongings, most of which had vanished with the horses. With one last sad salute in Bleyne’s direction they slowly, painfully, made their way up the steep narrow ravine. It soon widened, allowing them greater progress.
They ducked below the fence half-heartedly. This time there was no fizz or charge or even shimmer of light. Perhaps Telcanna’s fence had dissolved when the beast died. Not that any of that mattered now.
They stumbled wearily on through the dark hours. Nobody spoke. Above and ahead, Orlot’s black dome blocked out the moon. Eventually as the predawn desert light chased the shadows away the ravine fell abruptly to either side.
They had crested a sharp ridge. Below them the desert sprawled for several miles before rising up to greet the pink shrub-dotted slopes of Orlot. There it stood watching them. A lone hill drifting like an island high above the desert floor. It seemed so close and yet still was some miles away.
“I hate this fucking place,” Tamersane grumbled.
“We’ll never gain that height in our present state,” muttered Ulani, Zallerak tossed over his left shoulder like a grain sack. “It will take the best part of a day to find our way down from this ridge.
Suddenly he straightened. “What’s that movement down there?”
Corin stared in the direction he was pointing and, as the first rays of golden sunlight gilded the plateau of rock on which they stood, he too espied shapes moving far below.
Tamersane’s hoarse shout was excited. “It’s the horses,” he rasped. “See, there are five of them. They must have found a way down from this ridge last night. Or else they went around this plateau. We had better hurry!”
The knowledge that Thunderhoof and the other beasts still lived cheered them all. As Corin watched them far below, he saw that the horses were grazing on what looked like rough spiky grass. The terrain ahead, though still very arid, showed signs of bleak habitation. Here and there were acacia bushes, their thorny heads bobbing about in the wind.
“There must be water down there,” Corin said. “Come on!”
They searched along the plateau’s edge for some time, fretting, as the drop below was sheer and unmanageable. Eventually Ulani spotted a deep fissure in the cliff where loose stones and shale formed a giant slide, cutting in and snaking its way down to the ground far below.
They ought to be able to manage that. Ulani slung the lifeless Zallerak across his back again, freeing his arms so that he could steady himself with his spears as they descended. Down they hastened, half slipping and sliding, clutching at bare roots and shrubs that clung tenaciously to the shallow earth.
Corin’s hands were shredded by thorns that left painful splinters deep beneath his skin. The sun was fully up by the time they had reached the foot of the cliff. There was no longer any sign of the horses.
“We had best take shelter here,” said Ulani. “We could use some rest and with luck the beasts will catch our scent and come running.”
“They will probably gallop in the other direction if they’ve sense,” grumbled Tamersane.
“Thunderhoof won’t let us down,” Corin assured his friend. “The others will follow him. They know him for a wise beast. Ulani is right; we would do well to rest here for a while. I don’t know about you but my head feels like a sack of marbles. Have we any water left?”
They took shelter from the sun’s merciless glare behind a large shoulder of rock. Ulani slung the lifeless Zallerak onto the ground and then slumped down exhausted beside him. Within moments the warrior king was fast asleep. Tamersane soon joined him in snores and Corin kept a watch out for the horses.
Hours passed; he must have fallen asleep too. When Thunderhoof’s wet nose nuzzled Corin’s face he jumped up in alarm. Corin shook the weariness from him and berated himself for sleeping.
He glanced up at the sky. The sun had already past high over their heads and afternoon was wearing on. At least their steeds had returned, and looked in better fettle than they did. Corin took a grateful slurp from the almost empty gourd tied to Thunderhoof’s saddle. He passed it over to a waking Tamersane. Then Ulani’s booming voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Where is Zallerak?” Ulani demanded. They scanned the rocks about but saw no sign of the bard. Then Corin noticed that one of the horses was missing.
“What’s that bugger up to now?” Corin again chided himself angrily for falling asleep on watch. Still it was probably Zallerak who had found the horses anyway, though what had possessed the bard to abandon his friends again, he couldn’t begin to guess. Corin muttered to himself as he tightened Thunderhoof’s saddle and then hoisted his battered body onto the horse’s back.
“You had the right idea, Thunder,” he said. “Now show us where that water is!”
They rode steadily for the rest of that day. Orlot’s slopes loomed ever closer. Following their mount’s noses they had found a small stream emerging babbling from beneath a rock. They drank deeply from its cold clear water before bathing their faces and replenishing their gourds. Refreshed and invigorated, they finally arrived at Orlot’s north flank. Here they dismounted to l
ead their horses up the steep ruddy slope. They reached the summit quicker than expected. Orlot was not as big as it had appeared from the Copper Desert.
The hill’s crown was flat and even, and its bare rock shone with a pinkish glow. From this height they had a clear view of the desert for many miles. Behind them they could see the cliff they had descended that morning, and beyond that the Copper Desert sparkling in the sun before dwindling from view north-westwards in a shimmer of heat, the High Dunes just discernible in the distance.
Opposite, great jagged ridges of rock marked the southern edge of the Ty-Tander’s realm. These trailed off to vague lumps before fading from view in the heat haze.
Then Corin turned his gaze south. He gasped at what he saw. Seeming almost in arm’s reach stood a range of mountains rising up like coloured clouds above the desert floor. Flawless triangles of blazing rock, their sheer slopes shone like mirrors. They looked alien as though they had crashed landed here from some distant world. Corin’s eyes stung with pain at the glare from those flawless dazzling slopes.
“The Crystal Mountains,” said Ulani, shielding his own gaze. “What now?”
Corin stared in awe for some moments longer, quite unable to answer. The mountains appeared so close but it had been the same with Orlot. He guessed they still had a full day’s ride ahead. The sharp peaks shimmered rose-pink in the setting sun, and their smooth flanks blazed like burnished bronze.
“Is that a road down there?” asked Tamersane. The Kelwynian had been looking for signs of movement below. He had spotted what looked like a thin line beading towards the dazzling mountain slopes.
“Aye,” replied Ulani, nodding his bearded head, still coated in dried blood and muck from their battle the day before. “There is rumour of a road that leads out of the desert. They say it passes close beneath the shadow of Orlot before reaching those mountains. The ancients built it when yonder peaks were mined for their crystal. I guess that must be it below,” he added.
