by JW Webb
A moment later the two lancers drained their drinks, thanked the landlord, and left the tavern filled with their own theories on what would come of these exciting events.
Hagan watched them leave with a cold smile on his face. He ordered another brandy from the innkeep and claimed their former place by the fire. He felt better—much better. If Tarin was here, then Corin must be around too. But this time he’d need a hand dealing with old longshanks.
But who to call on? Actually that was obvious. Hagan’s smile deepened as he recalled how someone else owed Corin a debt. A man he knew, and feared were truth be known. But a man with special skills and devotions, ensuring he would stop at nothing to see Hagan and himself avenged. That following morning, Hagan Delmorier stole a horse from a stable and rode northwest for the coast. It would take some time to find the one he sought, but he deemed the trip well worth it.
Chapter 8
The Road to Car Carranis
Shallan felt sick to the bone. The dead city around her, poor Gerrenus now departed, and the corpses of the recently slain lying strewn and bleeding across the room—that combination of stench and horror left her reeling and shaking in the corner, her guts churning in a cocktail of rage and revulsion.
Zukei sat cross-legged over their prisoner. It hadn’t taken Corgan long to break. He was a hard man, but Zukei had some very dark skills. Now Corgan lay sobbing and screaming for the woman to let him be. Zukei grinned at him and lowered the knife again. Another scream.
“Enough!” Shallan could stand no more. The man had told them all he knew. He’d screamed it out, but Zukei wanted more. “Stop!” Shallan yelled at the warrior woman, and Zukei glared back at her.
“I thought you wanted vengeance, Duchess? Someone to pay for these atrocities?”
“I know, and I did. But this isn’t right, Zukei. We don’t have to sink to their level.”
Zukei shook her head. “Pity is for the weak. Harden your heart, Duchess. This one might have more to tell us. I’ve only really just started.”
“Shallan is right.” Barin loomed over from the shadows. “And we’ve spent too long here already. Time to vacate this fallen city, we’ve a journey to make. So slit that bastard’s throat, Zukei girl, and let’s get moving.”
“As you wish.” Zukei’s thin blade slid along the supine man’s throat. Corgan choked, spluttered, kicked out, and then lay still. Shallan turned her gaze away.
The man hadn’t told them much, but what he had told them was all they needed to know. Redhand had been and gone. It was he who had been responsible for the sacking of Vangaris. His father, King Hal, and Redhand’s other brothers had initially attacked the city but waited for the king’s eldest son to join them. After Daan’s arrival they had departed southeast for Car Carranis. Redhand had told them of his meeting with Rael Hakkenon in Crenna, and how Caswallon had wanted Morwella destroyed: house, ship, farm, and family.
And Redhand was at Car Carranis now. He’d left this Corgan with just a shadow crew watching the ashes of Vangaris. Zukei proposed they flush the other Leethmen out of their rat holes in the city, but Barin said they had scarce time for such recreation.
At his word, they left the keep behind and made for the southern gates, which like the northern ones stood broken and ajar. After that they crossed the stone bridge spanning the River Falahine and left ruined Vangaris far behind.
Shallan never looked back once. Vangaris was dead and Morwella dying. A city of ghosts and a country of shadows. But she would focus on what lay ahead rather than behind: Car Carranis, war, and the distant hope of finding her love again.
Night found them camped in a forest. It was chilly and wet but Barin dared not light fires. So they managed with what little sleep they could and were up and moving an hour before sun-up. They stayed close to the road but dared not travel on it. This made their progress slow, but Zukei, also skilled in scout work, found shortcuts and deer paths which gained them back some ground.
Two days passed with the six fugitives flitting through woods and fording streams. Their way wound up ever steeper, and the bleak heights of eastern Morwella loomed close. Beyond them lay Leeth and the Disputed Realm, whilst to their north the Gulf of Leeth glinted greyish-blue through gaps in the trees.
It was during the morning of their third day after leaving Vangaris that Taic emerged from the path ahead, a finger raised to his lips in warning. The young Northman had been ranging ahead with Zukei and had spotted movement on the road.
“What is it?” Barin frowned at his nephew whilst Shallan and Sveyn took a breather.
“Brigands I’d say. A score or more ranging east along the road.”
“Leethmen?” Cogga had emerged through the trees. Barin had bid his ship’s carpenter act as tail man, ensuring they weren’t followed.
“No, these look like Morwellans.” Taic nodded as Zukei slunk into view. “Here she is,” Taic grinned. He liked Zukei, though mostly she ignored him.
“There are twenty-two.” Zukei folded her brown arms and leaned against a tree. She slipped a dagger from her belt and started cleaning out dirt from beneath her nails. For some reason this fascinated Taic and Sveyn. “They are ill-equipped and shabby. I can kill them if you want,” Zukei offered.
“Let them be.” Barin glanced at Shallan who shrugged agreement. “They might be refugees of Vangaris, like us making for Carranis. And even if they are scumbags, there might be more. Keep an eye on them, sweetness; don’t let them get too far ahead but don’t get too close either.”
“I know how to fucking scout.” Zukei glared at Barin and disappeared into the woods again. Taic, chuckling, trotted after her. Cogga flashed Barin a grin.
“Don’t you just love that girl?” he said.
“Hard not to,” replied Barin.
Throughout that afternoon Zukei and Taic appeared at odd times to report on the Morwellans, who for the most part seemed content to follow the road without much care if they were being watched. Zukei held their tracking skills in contempt. Aside that, the road steepened as they turned south and left the Gulf of Leeth behind. Ahead and close loomed the first great heights of the mountain range that surrounded Car Carranis. Betwixt these ranges the road wound and threaded, a pale worm half hidden by pine and briar.
Their way got tougher and at last there was no alternative but to take to the road. Shallan panted as the stiff climb led up through pines, the frosty chill choking her breath.
An hour before dusk, Taic came running into view. He looked alarmed.
“What is it now?” Barin had that dubious expression he reserved for his nephew alone. “Wood goblins?”
“Big feet!”
“What?” Shallan and Barin replied at the same time.
“Foot prints. Huge with claws!”
“Elephant?” suggested Cogga.
“Don’t be silly.” Shallan’s eyes showed worry and alarm. “Bears maybe?”
“Nope. These prints are man-shaped but bigger than any frigging bear’s. There’s something nasty out there uncle.”
“Where is Zukei?” Shallan demanded, now worried for her friend.
“Following the tracks up yonder hill.” Taic pointed to where a cluster of crags frowned down upon them above the pines a half mile east of the road.
“Get her back here,” snapped Barin, for once irritated with Zukei’s tenacity. “This isn’t some beast hunting expedition. Whatever it is, hopefully it will stay up there and leave us alone. And what of our friends further up the road?”
“They’re setting up camp two miles ahead. I was going to tell you that.”
“On the road?” Cogga looked askance. “Are they unhinged or merely overconfident?”
“They look exhausted,” Taic shrugged. “Like men who have nothing left. They’ve lit a fire and spread blankets a hundred feet from the road. We had no trouble spotting them.”
“So what do we do?” Shallan felt edgy and strange. The small hairs were rising in the nape of her neck. Something wasn’t rig
ht here.
Barin nodded. “I feel it too. Something’s out there. We’ll wait for that daft lass to re-join us then we’ll steal up the road, get ahead of those Morwellan fools and hopefully leave this bad region behind.“
Moments later, Zukei slunk into view, her expression grim. “There’s an old settlement up there just past those rocks,” she told them. “I found human bones—they weren’t that old.”
“More footprints?” Barin scratched his ear and wished he had an ale handy. He felt thirsty this evening. Thirsty and grumpy.
“Yes lots, they trailed off toward that mountain.” Zukei pointed to where a dark shoulder of rock showed pink in the evening light.
“Well I don’t see any reason to linger here a moment longer,” Barin said. “Let’s get some miles behind us while we still have light.” The others agreed, and they filed back onto the road and commenced jogging while their energy lasted. Zukei scouted the camp. “They are asleep!” she hissed them forward. “Not even a guard posted, the twats!”
They passed the place where the Morwellans were sleeping and continued on. The road was even steeper now, winding ever up into the mountains, and the air bitter chill. Barin and Zukei led them on, walking at a punishing pace despite the climb. Shallan’s legs ached and her heart thudded in her chest. But she didn’t complain, just wanted rid of this place.
They crested a rise where the wind whistled around their ears and a knot of stubby oaks creaked close by. Aside that they were on a level plateau, a shoulder that during daylight would award fine views north and west.
“We’ll settle here,” Barin announced. “It’s chilly but hard for someone or something to spring us without us spotting them first.” No one complained about that decision. They were all exhausted; even Zukei looked tired, and apart from Sveyn (who took first stag) were all sleeping huddled within their blankets inside an hour.
The screams woke them an hour before dawn. Shallan blinked, shivered, and rolled free from her blanket. What the…? A sound like crushing logs exploded somewhere below, followed by more screams and then silence. Nobody spoke though all were thinking the same. Those Morwellans had just had a visit by the owner of the big feet.
“Shall I go and investigate?” Zukei asked Barin, who shook his head.
“Are you nuts?” Sveyn was shaking. One thing Shallan had noted about these tough Valkador men, they didn’t do spooks. Anything unnatural seemed to unnerve them. Both Taic and Cogga looked gloomy, whilst Barin was chewing his beard.
“We stay put,” he said after a moment. “All of us. The last thing we want to do is get lost in the dark. This is wild country and Car Carranis still a good two days’ hike.”
“Would that we had bloody horses,” muttered Cogga. They sat tight as night deepened around them. It was bitter cold, and a white half moon glinted through the trees. Shallan dozed, her head nodded forward, and with a jolt she snapped awake. Someone watched beneath the trees.
“Cornelius? Father—is that you?”
A shadow slipped behind a rock. She heard a soft sound, turned and saw him standing there. The Horned Man.
“Daughter, you are in peril.” The words were leaves brushing stone; she couldn’t see him—just a shadowy shape in the gloom. “There is great danger for you here!” The voice seemed to come from far away. Close by her companions made not a sound.
“I feel it, but what is it?”
Just then an almighty crash erupted somewhere close below, something bellowed, and then another crash and the sound of thundering feet approaching at large shook the ground.
“Father!” Shallan hissed but the shadow of The Horned Man had vanished into the night.
“Flee!” His voice came to her like wind over water. Then Shallan cried out as something knocked her over. It was Taic, his blue eyes wild as he unslung his axe.
“What the fuck?” That was Sveyn.
“Barin!” Zukei yelled.
Then the monstrosity fell upon them.
It was huge, violent, and fucking ugly. Those were Shallan’s first impressions. They leapt inside her head about the same time that she dived for cover behind a log, her companions taking similar evasive steps. Shallan’s brief glimpses hinted at huge gnarly head, greenish oily skin (which glistened in the moonlight like slime in a trough), shaggy black hair, and huge sinewy torso. It was naked save a belt and short woollen kilt, and below that oak-broad stout legs stomped and kicked as their owner roared and bellowed.
“It cannot be!” Shallan heard Cogga shout to her left.
“I thought they were extinct!” That was Sveyn, closer to her right.
“What is it?” Taic, somewhere behind her, his voice hoarse and muffled.
“A fucking troll.” That was Barin, who stood with feet braced and Wyrmfang grasped in his fists. The troll (if that’s what it was) came crashing toward Barin, and for the first time since she’d met him, the master of The Starlight Wanderer looked small to Shallan. The greenish creature was double Barin’s height and so broad it looked squat. It carried a huge tree stump as a weapon, which it now swung down at Barin.
He leapt back out of range just as Zukei danced free of a rock and hurled a knife at the brute’s chest. The blade bounced off that hide and the creature hardly noticed. Zukei slipped the Ptarnian axe she’d acquired in Calprissa into her left palm. The troll lurched down to grasp her but she danced between its legs and chopped hard at the sinews behind its knees. This time black ooze showed as her axe cut through that leather-hard flesh.
The troll kicked out at Zukei with a yard-long foot, sending her flying. Another knife bounced off its head as Cogga rolled into view, then Sveyn, yelling and spitting, ran at the monster and swung his axe hard between its legs.
That didn’t work too well; the troll brought a knee up and sent Sveyn skyward. Taic nocked an arrow to his bow and let loose. The shaft stuck in the side of the troll’s head. The troll shook his skull, bellowed, and scratched its ear.
Then Barin strode forth with Wyrmfang in full swing. The troll batted the double blades aside with one massive fist and sent the other one hammer-hard toward Barin’s face.
Barin dived clear, and as he rolled swung up again with the axe, this time scoring a long bloody wound along the inside of the troll’s thigh.
About this time, Shallan remembered her horn. She snatched the great curved tusk from her blanket and put it to her lips. She blew three times and the troll grinned at her.
Shallan swore and tossed the horn away, reaching instead for her bow. She had the troll’s full attention now. It lumbered toward her, still grinning; she counted at least three teeth in that gaping mouth.
Barin swung Wyrmfang and caught the troll behind its right knee, just as Cogga reappeared to slam Sveyn’s discarded axe into the monster’s left ankle.
The troll buckled, but as he sank to his knees a table-sized fist sent Cogga spinning over a rock. Moments later, Zukei, Taic, and Sveyn (all remarkably still in one piece) mustered into a tight group and advanced heroic toward the troll amid expletives, hissing, and wailing (this last from Sveyn who had lost it again).
The troll yawned and showed them his back. The monster tried to stand but his legs were bleeding badly. The troll looked puzzled but didn’t have long to think for Barin had climbed on his back and now had both hands around the troll’s foot-thick neck.
And so the troll hugging began. Later Taic would embellish that fight to scare the children, saying how Bad Uncle Barin single-handedly defeated the troll in a show of strength. It wasn’t exactly like that.
But something happened to Barin that made Zukei and company freeze and Shallan drop her bow. As she watched awestruck, it seemed to Shallan that Barin’s face was changing; she shook her head but the image stayed with her. Gone was her friend, replaced by a huge snarling bear that tore and heaved at the troll’s exposed neck.
The troll reached back and grasped Barin’s beard. It tugged, and a huge blonde tuft came free. Barin let go a hand and with his fist slamme
d upward into the troll’s nose. It landed like a missile between each nostril and made the troll sneeze.
The troll reared its head back, butting Barin in the face breaking his nose, but bear Barin didn’t flinch. Instead he roared, his fury eclipsing the troll as his arms locked around its neck again and his teeth tore into its dinner plate ear.
The troll backed up against a boulder and brought his full weight against Barin, crushing him against the boulder, but Barin sank his teeth harder and the troll’s ear fell off and rolled like a giant field mushroom into a rock. Barin spat out black blood and choked as the troll’s weight bore down upon him, but his nail/claws tore into the troll’s eyes until the creature had to lean forward, and Barin dropped to the ground, taking deep breaths.
The troll turned and swung a fist at Barin. The Northman blocked with both forearms and then shoulder charged the troll’s neck. But the troll shook him loose and batted Barin’s head with a paw, knocking him rolling across the rimy ground.
The troll looked about for his tree trunk but found it not. Again he tried to gain his feet. He looked puzzled by his handicap but didn’t have much time to think about it as just then Zukei’s skinny Karyia punctured a hole through the back of his head, the point emerging like a steel viper from inside his mouth. The troll was dead before he hit the ground.
What followed was silence and grunts of pain, these coming from Cogga who had just limped into view. Shallan took stock: Zukei stood wolf-wary over the troll’s hill-heavy corpse, as if she expected him to leap back to life any minute. Taic was seated close by nursing his head, and Sveyn was dribbling and chewing his axe behind him. Barin had rolled to his knees and looked pale and battered. But at least he looked like Barin again. Gone were the bear visage and phantom claws.
Shallan shuffled across to her big friend. She gazed down at him shaking her head in wonder; sheepishly he grinned back. “Hello,” he said.
