"What was that?" Hal asked no-one, in the darkness beyond them the silence returned, and a sweet, smelling odor filled the nostrils, seductive in its scent. Vhalen took deep worry as he inhaled the strange essence.
"It is no serpent."
Stryka peered into the twilight where a deep prolonged groan trembled, and grew ever ferocious. Another violent hiss scorned the silence, and from afar a pair of solid white eyes emerged, as if they belonged to the shadows themselves.
"I think we should leave, and quickly," Stryka whispered, and with haste they bolted down a darkened path.
Jema grabbed the supplies and doused their fire, Lyeanna's eyes stared down the shaft of her arrow, yet she could not pierce the shadow to locate her companions. Vhalen raised his luminous staff, and the company raised their weapons, charging the westward road to find the path out. Jema dragged Landau furiously behind him, they could only hope Stryka and Brommac would find their light.
Stryka ran while he searched for his vials, with no time to pause he smashed it upon his wrist guard, the fumes of its spirits stung his eyes, and with a hack of his chisel his wrist became flame, and with it he lit his torch to hand to Brom, before dousing his burning arm. Yet his fear lay not in the fire's scorn, for the thudding footsteps behind him grew loud, and upon Brom’s light they witnessed a pair of black Panthers, fabled cats of the mountains.
The fire perturbed them, the light more than the heat, and in its light Stryka noticed their vampiric teeth, like two ivory daggers they snarled at their being. Its body was long, and larger than any lion, and their hiss was more piercing than any snake. With a giant paw one of the Panthers swiped at their flame, it was their only means of defense, while the other had disappeared, its black coat vanished in the twilight and Brom could not sway his flame. They took no chances, and with speed they scurried through the twisted columns of the mountain.
The Panther followed, but its body was slow to travel the same tangled path, the pair sidestepped more than ran, darting between pillars of stone and over scattered boulders, wherever the path was thin and narrow they escaped, but their trail was lost, and the way back unknown. A harsh growl stirred in the shadows, and Brom now wielded his axe while Stryka took the torch, furiously he moved it around to find the Panthers but their stealth was frightening. From within the stone maze a Panther weaved toward them, Brom with a thoughtless swing bore his axe into the stalagmites near, and an avalanche of rock fell between them, and forced them to outrun it.
They ran into a valley, for there was no other way, and now in the clear they found themselves vulnerable. They sprinted with haste, but their bearings were lost, and there was no sign of the others. They ran without turning back and eventually paused to take breath, what security the flame gave now made them a beacon, and its glare obscured their view.
"Let's be done with this runnin’!" said Brom.
"I have no weapon!" Stryka reminded him, but Brom was content on using his own.
"Ye hold the light. I will give it my axe if it dares come near."
With that they stood their ground, and Brom grew ever determined to deal a fatal blow, pacing the ground in expectation of its attack.
"This axe has slain dire wolves, saber cats, wild boars and mountain bear!" he boasted aloud for the Panther to hear him. "Come forth and add your notch to my blade," he said with an arrogant smirk, but upon its end the Panther appeared, and his cavalier demeanor quickly cowered, for its stealth had gained the advantage, and leapt toward him. It snarled in its tenacity to sever Brommac, before whistling through the spirals of stone came an arrow that pierced its neck, and instantly it crashed to the ground.
They turned to see the growing glow of Vhalen's staff, with their company behind them, Lyeanna's arrow was accurate indeed, yet Brom offered no thanks. Even now Jema gave Stryka his disconcerting gaze.
"We found no path," said Stryka.
"You found something alright," Jema replied.
The hissing returned, and growls resonated through the canyon, and there was more than one.
"The road is this way, hurry!" Vhalen shouted.
With his light ahead he ran with Jema and Sam behind him, closely guarding Landau. Brom and Hal followed with Stryka's flame among them, while Lyeanna ran at the rear, in the dark distance shadows darted through the contorted course of the canyon, the dwarven monuments drew close before them, but the pride of Panthers was quick in their pursuit. Lyeanna fired off her arrows while continuing to sprint forward, she was their only defense, and her eyes were meticulous, and though each arrow found their mark the other Panthers sprinted closer toward them. Vhalen stood by the tunnel entrance, and held Stryka beside him while ushering them all through.
"I will need your flame!" Vhalen demanded of him.
Lyeanna soon charged past him, and the Panthers were not far away.
With Stryka's flame beside him Vhalen dim his staff and thrust it against the dwarven monument beside him, like a piercing dagger it buried in its side, and the stone around it began to crack and grow fragile, before it crumbled from the weight of his blow. Vhalen pushed Stryka back as the statue plummeted, and with the Panthers meters away the monument crashed, and sealed the tunnel from the canyon. The dust of the crashing monument forced them to cough, yet even the smallest pant echoed where they stood. All their faces bore worry, for the entrance was now sealed, and only Stryka’s torch allowed them sight. There was no way back.
"How did you know that would work?" Stryka asked, despite its effectiveness it appeared a lucky outcome.
"I had no other option. My magic prevents me from bringing harm to the natural world, and I would collapse this roof, only I thought it would be our tomb also. There is no going back now, we must chance this road to the mountain's end. Let us hope the danger has avoided us, as you can see there are more than the enemy's minions to worry about on our journey."
The road wound upward and eventually straightened, and the darkness weighed on their sanity, so thick they could wipe it from their face. Along the straight path it swallowed them, and Vhalen's light only presented them a brighter shade of black. Soon a faint wind, more like a heavy air surrounded them, and though they couldn't see much, their footsteps echoed louder, and the light of the wizard’s staff no longer reflected off the mountain surface. Only their path lay visible before them, yet narrow it was, and forced them to walk single file. Vhalen paused, for the dark was unsettling.
"Be on your guard," he turned to say. "I will bear more light, for I fear something traipsing the shadows."
Vhalen murmured into his crystal atop his staff, bowing his head before he raised the staff high away from his fellows. Landau watched the stone radiate with solar strength, almost unstable the light erupted from its apex and banished the shadow around them like a silent wind had swept it away. Landau halted as did his companions, and all stared in astonishment.
Their path was narrow and stretched long, but beyond their edges was an abyss the light could not reach. On the encompassing walls stood eight monumental carvings of dwarf lords, surpassing the size of any tower Landau had ever seen. From their beard to their wielded weapon, their detail was exquisite, and their chiseled eyes flickered upon their company.
"Here lies the old kingdom of Skalmarum, city of the dwarves," said Vhalen.
"Over compensatin’ much," Brom snickered.
Despite the peril of the Panthers fresh in their mind all marveled at a kingly sight, except for Lyeanna, who was loathe to find any wonder within the mountain. Landau stood by Sam and their expression of awe was shared. Vhalen's light revealed little, it appeared a place once homely, and often walked upon.
In the center of the cavern they approached a crossroad, either side presented a large stair that descended below into arches carved into the mountain wall where great halls lie, beyond that was only twilight.
"We will continue on this road," said Vhalen pointing ahead. "Though I long to marvel at the craftsmanship of dwarves I will not do so here."
>
"Where are the dwarves Vhalen?" Landau said, as though the very sight of them would bring some reprieve. "Why did they leave?"
"Some things happened even before my time young lad. It is evident they remained here for many centuries. They may have mined all resources from the mountain and simply moved on. Let us hope it was as sinister as that."
Upon leaving the enormous hall the path deviated right for over an hour and atop a flat cliff that coursed along the shadow valley they eventually took rest. What remained of Stryka's tattered wheel they burned to return warmth from their overall bleak journey, while Hal tried to hearten their meal with cooked mushrooms and cheese, topped with thyme and honey.
"How can dwarves dwell in such darkness all their lives?" Brom argued. "Rough be their minds to endure such madness."
"I miss the warmth of moonlight," added Lyeanna. "Her absence gives me great unease. This darkness overwhelms me like an endless dream."
"Pft," Brom laughed. "Only an Amazon would think the moon so motherly."
"For a self-claimed 'man of the mountain' you have offered greater moans than any on our journey so far," she remarked.
"I would offer less without ye habitual nag."
Jema refrained from intervening, and was grateful to feast on something other than grains and fruit, though rationed little for himself.
"Eat up son," Jema urged him. Landau consumed only a small amount, for his stomach pained, and not from hunger.
Vhalen sat aside from the group, the press of his lips on the mouth of his pipe resounded like a constant drip in a distant pool. Only now did Stryka learn of their quest and of Landau's plight, along with the weapon that Jema carried. All spoke in a tone of exhaustion, their time remaining within the mountain was undetermined, as were the perils between.
"What will be your plan if we leave this place?" Stryka asked Jema of his intention beyond the stronghold. "Even if we remove ourselves from this dungeon it will lead us to Asmaria, a land condemned with blistering cold mountains and haunted woodlands. Neither gives much hope Jema, that's if this army doesn't continue to pursue you."
"I will assess our options when the time arrives, until then I will concern myself with other problems. Regardless I would shake your hand in courtesy, and see you on your way."
Stryka separated himself from the company and left the tension with him.
"What is it with you two? How do you know him so?" Sam asked of Jema.
"I will label him a mercenary, for there’s no kinder manner I could bestow upon him."
"Despite his favor Jema, he could come in handy if trouble presents itself," Halwende stated, though what skill the mercenary had was yet to be seen.
"He is not a reliable man," he said in contempt. "He is too comfortable with death. When the time comes he would welcome it rather than contest it, and I need no such character of that kind here."
"Fact is knight, without his help we would have shared the same fate as those in Bruna," Raminus contributed, it was a verbal wound more than a fact.
Jema excused himself away from the group, while Landau was left to behold the assassin's decrepit grin. "You must think yourself foolish to trust in the old man, look where he has led you. I would hardly consider it safe," he said.
"He gives me comfort," said Landau, "which is more than most people." Without intention Landau had offered him an insult, yet rather than being perturbed Raminus chuckled as though he welcomed the game.
Upon a cliff that towered high above the Nelroar river Stryka removed a concealed flask from his pocket. He gulped it with one quick yearning swig, it did not go unnoticed when Jema crept behind him, though Stryka showed no concern. He remained with his back turned to him, peering down to the river beneath him.
"Here I stand on the edge of a cliff and still you won't destroy me."
"You destroy yourself," Jema said before Stryka pocketed his flask.
"I do miss your lectures," he turned to confront the knight who stood before him.
"How long have you been following us?"
"I have not been following you. I have done everything to avoid you. Only now by chance do I find you and the company you keep, that is the truth."
"He is no threat to you," said Jema, Stryka knew of who he spoke.
"You have uttered those words before, and I will dismiss them again now. His kind has plagued me my whole life and even here in the belly of this mountain can I not escape them."
"Landau says he recognized you in Merchant's Wall. How could he do that?"
"What do you want from me Jema? You have degraded yourself plenty if you fall under the whim of a child," he laughed, though Jema did not see the humor. "My business is my own, I don't need your counsel," he moved to brush him aside.
"I tire of your glare, as though it is I who inflicts you with pain," Jema grabbed his shirt. "Not when I bear the wound of your sullen blade."
He lifted the right side of his doublet to reveal a scar faded into his side. "That poison is the least of things that damages you," Jema pointed to his flask. "As long as you are here I implore you to show greater concern, once we leave this place you are free to carry on to wherever your decadence takes you."
"Free?" he spat. "I will never be free. Shiny stones and a rusty old sword are hardly reasons to garner my concern Jema, let alone preach to me myths that children would find hard to believe. I have no intent to aid you beyond here, whether you suggest it or not."
Stryka stammered and became imposing, though Jema reached a gentle hand to keep his audience.
"I only ask you to put our differences aside, as well as your beliefs. Do you desire death so easily you would embrace its arrival?"
"I have embraced it my entire life, why would now be any different?" he pouted, before finding solitude in the darkness.
Jema sighed half defeated, of all the obstacles he foresaw this was the last he anticipated.
Sam stoked the fire and allowed its warmth to reach a greater radius, the fellowship finished their meals and separated to find the strength of mind to rest. Landau lay on his back, unaware if it was night outside, peering into the interior twilight, void of any stars. He missed the smell of the sea breeze, of any breeze. Within the mountain he felt lost to the world, forgotten in this gloomy pocket of Heldorn, and the thought of his friends and family drifted to sadness the longer he remained disconnected from them.
Jema returned in the absence of Stryka, taking his place between him and his squire.
"Is everything alright?" Landau asked of him.
"Why aren't you sleeping son? Take your chance now while we have it."
"I can't sleep," he admitted, bewilderment absorbed his face. "I see now the weight of my actions. I can't help think of those people in Bruna and the danger I've brought on us all. I never meant to bring about so much death," he cried, and buried his face in Jema's arm.
"Hey come now son, you cannot allow yourself to take blame. This evil is beyond implication, it will do no good to worry about it when we cannot regress."
"I can't do it Jema," he continued to tear, he tried to control it, the others around him were aware of it. "I don't wanna die, not knowing where I am. I deserve the choice," he said.
Jema embraced him tight, though Landau could see the doubt in his eyes, whether he would admit it or not.
"What are you scared of?" Jema asked in a soothing voice.
Landau's soggy eyes raised in surprise of his question. There was a myriad of things to be frightful of, he was jarred in his answer.
"I…I don't - I mean everything. I'm old enough to know I can't fix this. How am I supposed to kill the creator of all things evil? It’s hopeless." Jema consoled him with a fatherly cradle.
"Indulge me in a tale Landau," Jema started. "When I was your age I lived in a city called Denmore, on the edge of the Garden Valley, east of the Pale City. There was a war between the Imperials and the Dagger-bloods, armies from Dagorlith, and our city was caught in the attack. There was a young man I r
emember who strayed from the battle to save my family’s life, a soldier in the Empire of insignificant standing, a soldier like many others. I never asked his name, though when I moved to the Pale City I watched him return many times from battle, a hero in my eyes; he was the reason I wanted to join the Imperial Legion to begin with. One day though the Legion returned from a conflict in Gundera, though sadly he never returned with them. When I asked of him nobody could tell me his name…like he existed to no-one. This man saved my family’s life, and yet nobody knew his name. I think about all I’ve done in my years, none of which would have been possible without the help of that young man, yet no song was ever sung in his passing. The point is there are many heroes in our world Landau, people who vanish into history, until history can’t even recall their name. Without his help I would not be alive to sit beside you, these dangers would no doubt have found you by now, and all would be lost. If your burden is that you’re insignificant then disregard it, for the courage you bring is as selfless as that soldier in my eyes, and what follows on from your deeds, will resound in generations to come. Despite all our strengths we are all frightened, yet here you sit equal in our company.
You're a hero son, you just don't know it yet."
Landau was compelled to disagree, though Jema had never openly admitted his fear before. "We're all still alive Landau, and if we're not dead, we'll keep going."
"Okay," said Landau, his voice was too shaken to utter anything else, wiping the tears from his face. Jema held him in a show of pride, and pleaded with him to get some rest. Behind them Landau caught a quick glance of Stryka standing in the shadows, listening to Jema's encouraging words.
Chapter 20
REMNANTS OF THE EMPIRE
They had rested rather less than six hours when they took the road once more. Their course now veered left and curved that way for many hours, the path had wound back and forth so many times it was hard to know whether they were progressing forward or not. Landau walked closely behind Vhalen's light, with Jema and Sam beside him, the rest walked at some distance between them, with Stryka the last of them, and from in front Landau could barely see the faint flicker of his torchlight.
The Secret of Azuron (The Sword Empire Book 1) Page 34
