The Chronicles of the Myrkron: Book 01 - The Nine Keys of Magic

by Timothy Woods

  By morning, Ataum had reached a small clearing at the northernmost border of Trelom. He noted that about five hundred of the Forest Guard were already assembled, and with the thirty who joined him on the run, that accounted for a little more than half of their number. He moved among his men, clasping a hand here and giving a nod there. All were quiet and attentive as he walked to the center of the clearing to address them.

  "My brothers," he said, turning to address them all, "I have grave news. Doubtless some of you have already heard, but I wish you to hear it from my lips as well. The Council, by decree of my father, has banished me from Trelom." He paused to let the murmuring run its course.

  "Therefore, I have summoned you here to tell you of my own decision. If you would bear with me for a while longer, I would wait until we are all here before I explain. When we have all gathered, I will name my successor, but I have a request to make of you all before I do that." As he talked he could see more men arriving. It would be some hours yet before all of the remaining guardsmen would arrive, so Ataum moved from the center and sat down with his back against a large oak tree. One of the men, a young elf named Finel, came over and bowed to him.

  "There is no need to stand on ceremony now, Fin. I am no longer your leader, I am merely Ataum," Ataum told him looking up into his young face.

  "Begging your pardon, Lord, but the Council’s decree cannot change the fact that you are our Captain," Finel replied with a serious expression on his face.

  Ataum heard the assent of the nearby elves as they muttered their agreement with Finel's statement. Ataum smiled at the young elf and gestured for him to sit. As Finel sat cross-legged in front of him, another elf came over with a pouch of dried fruit and a water skin, and handed them to Ataum. He thanked the elf and took a long drink from the skin before returning his focus to Finel.

  "I’m afraid, my young friend, that the Council would disagree with you."

  "The Council may do as it wishes, but I, for one, follow my Captain."

  "That will not be a very popular opinion in Trelom, but I thank you, nonetheless," Ataum said with a bright smile. He glanced around.

  "Has there been any word from Alissa or Kline?"

  "None since I have been here, Captain. I will go ask around if you wish," Finel offered.

  "Aye, I would very much appreciate that. They should have been here by now."

  Ataum looked around him as Finel rose and left, inquiring of the elves in the immediate area if any had seen the pair; none had. He stood up and started to pace in front of the oak tree.

  "What could be taking them so long? They should have arrived here long before me."

  Ataum was just turning to pace again when a slender form stepped from the oak tree he had been leaning against. Startled at first, Ataum quickly recognized the slight form and smiling face of his wife. She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek then turned and gestured to the tree behind her. Three more robed figures materialized out of the tree and more were emerging from nearby trees. All of the Forest Guard were instantly on their feet, bowing slightly to the druids, though most also had their hands on their swords.

  "I had begun to worry. I thought to find you here when I arrived," Ataum said with obvious relief.

  "I had to wait for the others. I talked to a few I knew would come with us and asked them to spread the word. All told, thirty have decided to join us," Alissa said smiling.

  "Thirty?! Alissa, my dear, that is great news," Ataum exclaimed looking around.

  "But where is Kline? I sent him to look after you."

  "Kline was fine when we left. He decided to wait until the last and come through with them. Always the soldier, that one. He appointed himself rear guard."

  Ataum looked up, seeing more druids arrive. As the last one materialized, she was pulling a stern looking Kline along behind her. As Kline stepped fully from the tree, he looked back at it and shivered.

  "That’s no fit way for a warrior to travel. Give me the earth beneath my feet instead of the wings of magic any day," he exclaimed vehemently, shrugging his cloak into place.

  Ataum and the surrounding Forest Guard laughed heartily.

  "You’ll get used to it, my friend. In fact, you will have to. That is the method by which we will travel to Kantwell."

  Kline grimaced with distaste, then shrugged, and bowed to the druid who brought him through.

  "I mean no offense to you, my lady."

  She smiled, laughed, and waved a hand dismissively at him.

  "Quite alright, Master Kline. In fact, I take it as a compliment that one such as I could unnerve one of the Forest Guard."

  Kline moved over to Ataum.

  "Have you spoken to them yet?"

  "Briefly, but I have not asked them yet. I wanted to wait until most had arrived.

  Kline looked around.

  "Seems to me that most are here."

  Ataum looked behind him and noticed that there were a lot more elves than had been present just a few minutes earlier. In fact, it did look like most of the Forest Guard was there. He clasped Kline on the shoulder, flashing him a smile, and then took Alissa’s hand and walked to the center of the clearing. He waited until all eyes were on them and all were silent.

  "My friends, my brothers, yesterday the Council decided to tighten our borders. They gave orders that trespassers were to be killed on sight." Ataum held up his hand to still the wave of murmurs that swept through the crowd.

  "They also banished me for my refusal to uphold this decree. My own father pronounced that banishment. I cannot, in good faith, continue to follow the orders of the Council. I have decided that, if I am to be exiled, I will go to Kantwell and seek the advice of Wizard Merric. I will go to war with him in the hope that, together, we will be able to stop Mortow and his horde before they can reach our beloved Trelom. I ask you now, will you follow me, or would you stay and follow the Council’s orders? I know that most of you have family here, and I will not think less of you if you choose to remain. You are all Forest Guard, beyond reproach in my eyes." Again he had to hold his hand up for silence as some started to come forward.

  "Think not lightly on this. For, if you join me, you will be pronounced as exiles yourselves. That will mean, for some of you, that you may never see your families again. Also think on this. Mortow has gathered a great horde of ogres, trolls, and Weres. He has magic at his command. Wizard Merric told me that the dwarves have allied themselves with King Brose and the men of Branna, and the magi of Kantwell, but they are sorely pressed by Weres even as we speak. Bearing all these issues in mind, I beg you to consider where your hearts lie. I will give you some time to choose." Ataum started to turn to Alissa to speak to her when he heard the ringing of steel echo throughout the clearing. They both looked up and turned full circle. The entire Forest guard had drawn their swords, crossed them over their breasts, and gone to one knee. Kline was there with them, in the very front, down on one knee, smiling conspiratorially at him.

  "What are your orders, Captain?" He barked out.

  Ataum was stunned. He looked down into Alissa’s face and saw pride shining back up at him. He turned back to his men and gestured for them to rise. All came to their feet holding their swords at their sides. Ataum moved a step away from Alissa and drew his own sword over his head and shouted.

  "For Trelom, we go to Kantwell!" There was a thunderous cheer, then the sound of swords being sheathed. He sheathed his own sword and turned again to Alissa.

  "We need to get them moving. Have the druids take them through to Kantwell as quickly as possible. Merric may have need of us already."

  Alissa took his hands and reached up on tip toes to kiss him lightly on the lips. Smiling, she turned and walked toward her druids. As Ataum watched her leave, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

  "Well, my friend, it seems you underestimated the Forest Guard," Kline said smiling.

  Ataum reached up and clasped Kline’s hand.

  "It will never happen again,
my friend, never."

  Chapter Seventeen

  The journey from Middle Watch went swiftly. Kale and eight others from his previous company had joined with him in the new company under his leadership. All were good dwarves, good fighters. Now they were headed back to Delven Vale to recruit the rest of his company. He would have to enlist thirty more dwarves to fill it completely. Bran was uncertain how he was going to accomplish it, but the matter seemed unimportant at the moment. Bran was still stunned by the realization of what being an Axethane meant. Ralk told him that warriors would choose him and that held true, so far. Of the nine now following him, he had chosen only two. The other seven had asked to join him. Kale and a dour faced, older dwarf named Kallen, whom Bran had always liked, despite or perhaps because of his gruff manner, had been the only ones he asked to join him. He knew Kale would follow him, but he was a bit surprised when Kallen agreed.

  He had tentatively approached the gray haired dwarf after leaving the Axethane chamber. The older dwarf inclined his head slightly to Bran when he walked up to him, never pausing in the task of sharpening his axe. Listening to the comforting sound of stone gliding over steel, Bran had just come right out and asked if he would join his company. The old dwarf had not missed a beat in his honing as he smiled slightly and replied.

  "It would be my pleasure, Axethane." Bran nodded his head to Kallen and told him to be ready to move out within the hour.

  The others had come to Bran, one by one, as he was standing in the dining hall, asking to be allowed to serve with him. He accepted all who asked to join him. When all the dwarves of his former company stood within the dining hall and saluted him, Bran spun on his heels and headed for the door. As he passed through the doorway into the shadows of the pass, he thumped his axe haft against the ground in return salute. The sound was echoed by dozens of axes on top of the watch wall.

  They traveled all morning, and it was mid-afternoon when they reached Vale Watch. The time passed swiftly for Bran. He couldn’t remember eating anything on the long march. He turned to look over at his men and noticed that they appeared tired, but each returned his gaze with a respect that caused him to smile at them.

  "I’m sorry, my friends, but I just realized that we did not stop to eat. I guess my mind was on other matters," Bran confessed apologetically.

  Kallen met his gaze and nodded.

  "We knew your mind was elsewhere, so we did not want to intrude upon your thoughts. Missing one meal will hardly be the downfall of so stalwart a group of dwarves, Axethane," Kallen assured him.

  "Nevertheless, Captain Kallen, I would consider it a personal favor if you would remind me of such oversights in the future."

  Kallen’s eyes widened and he stood a little taller, realizing he had just been named Captain of the company.

  "If that is your wish, Axethane," Kallen replied bowing.

  "It is. Now men, get some food and rest for an hour, then we will continue. Captain, would you please pass on the news to our brothers here? Maybe some of them would like to join us."

  "Right away, Axethane," Kallen said as he moved toward the dwarves camped around a cooking fire.

  Bran turned to Kale and took him by the shoulder, steering him away from the others. He could not make himself meet Kale’s eyes for fear of seeing disappointment or worse, betrayal, there.

  "I am sorry, Kale."

  "Sorry for what?"

  Hearing the note of genuine surprise in Kale’s voice, Bran looked into his eyes. There, Bran saw not the look of betrayal he had expected, but rather trust and what could only be construed as awe.

  "I am sorry I could not name you Captain," Bran told him sincerely.

  "Oh, that. Truthfully, I was hoping you wouldn’t. I’m not cut out to lead. I just want to fight and help keep our people safe."

  "You do that already, my friend, but I wanted you to hear from me why I chose Kallen instead of you. He has more experience than both of us combined, plus that scowl of his could melt iron. The men will respond to that quicker than they will your grinning face."

  Kale looked at him with a feigned hurt expression.

  "You are just jealous because I’m better looking than you," Kale quipped.

  Bran patted him on the shoulder smiling.

  "Aye, that I am."

  When they reached the dwarves of Vale Watch, Bran looked out at them. They all got to their feet and thumped their axes against the ground, steel on stone, the dwarven way. Bran nodded to them.

  "My brothers, we go to gather a company to fight against the shifters. We would consider it an honor if we could sit and eat with you before we move on to Delven Vale," Bran said.

  A middle aged dwarf with blonde hair and beard came forward.

  "Axethane, I am Commander Hild, and it is we who would be honored to have you join us for supper."

  "Thank you, Commander. My men and I could use a short rest and some food. I’m afraid I marched them straight here from Middle Watch without a break for lunch."

  Commander Hild motioned with his hand, indicating an area where they could sit. Bran and Kale walked over and sat down. A young dwarf came forward with two steaming bowls of soup and handed one to Bran the other to Kale. Bran smiled and thanked him. He was just about to eat a spoonful when he noticed the young dwarf was still there. He had backed off a couple of steps, but had not moved further. Bran, smiling inwardly, eyed the young dwarf with a raised eyebrow.

  "You have a question lad or have you just never seen anyone eat soup before?" Bran asked him trying not to sound too gruff. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kale trying to hide a smile behind a spoonful of soup.

  The young dwarf turned red to the roots of his black hair.

  "No, Axethane. I mean yes, Axethane," the boy replied flustered.

  "Well, which is it, lad?" Bran asked finally taking a spoonful of soup and seeing the other dwarves around the fire grin good naturedly at the boy’s obvious nervousness.

  "I don’t have a question, Axethane, but I have seen people eat soup before. I have just never seen an Axethane before."

  "Ah, well, as you can see, I do not look any different than any of these other fine dwarves you serve with," Bran told him gesturing around the fire with his spoon.

  "But, Axethane, you do look different," the boy said still looking at him with wide eyes.

  "And how is that, lad?"

  "You glow, Axethane."

  Bran sat his half eaten bowl of soup aside.

  "I what?"

  "You glow, a bright white, Axethane."

  Bran, glancing down at himself, saw nothing unusual. He looked to Commander Hild.

  "Axethane, this is Dain," Hild gestured for the youth to come forward and sit.

  "He is Delven."

  Bran was shocked. A Delven was a dwarf who had a parent from both sects. The two sects rarely intermarried. He could only recall a handful of times throughout dwarven history when it had happened. Most dwarves stayed within their own sect, Forgers married Forgers, and Delvers married Delvers. Bran wasn’t entirely sure why it was that way, just that this was how it had always been.

  "So, I assume your father was a Forger, that is why you are here," Bran said to try to cover some of his surprise.

  "Yes, Axethane. He and my mother had an agreement that if a son was born to them, he would be raised as a Forger. If they had been given a daughter, she would have been raised as a Delver. To the great regret of my father, I have displayed more Delver ability than Forger. I see auras. As you know, that is a Delver trait, a rare one at that," Dain replied a bit dejectedly.

  Bran waited until the boy's gaze returned to him.

  "And what direction would you follow, lad?" Bran asked kindly, trying to put the boy at ease.

  "I do not wish to disappoint my father, Axethane."

  "That is plain to see, but it does not answer my question," Bran said still speaking kindly.

  "I would be a warrior, Axethane," Dain said, but it sounded more like he was trying to c
onvince himself than Bran.

  Bran rose to his feet and motioned for Kale to stay seated when he started to rise.

  "Come and walk with me for a bit, lad."

  Dain’s eyes opened wide with awe, and he scrambled to follow. Bran noticed the other dwarves smiling again at his youthful enthusiasm. Bran turned and led the boy away from the fire and beyond earshot of the other dwarves. Dain tried to stay a step behind, but Bran slowed his pace to encourage the boy to walk beside him.

  "Why would you be a warrior?"

  "To make my father proud and to protect our people, Axethane," Dain told him resolutely.

  "I see. So you think your father would disapprove of you following the healer’s path because you would not be able to protect our people."

  "Yes, Axethane."

  Bran stopped and turned to face the boy, looking down into his blue eyes.

  "Dain, do you know why every company has a Delver attached to it?"

  "To heal the warriors after battle," the boy replied confidently.

  "That’s only partially correct. Sometimes, the Delver must heal during the battle in order to save a life. You see, it takes those thirty nine warriors to protect that one Delver, but there is only one Delver to protect those thirty nine warriors. Do you understand what I am telling you?" Bran asked, continuing to hold Dain’s eyes with his own.

  "You are saying that the Delver protects his people just as the warriors do."

  "No lad, the warriors protect our people through their skill at arms. The Delvers protect our warriors so they can continue fighting for our people. They are an essential part of our defenses. Without them, many a Forger would never be able to take up his axe again. Delvers protect us by keeping us whole and by assuring that we Forgers can do our jobs."

  "So you are saying that if I did become a healer, I could still protect my people," Dain replied looking thoughtful.

  "Very much so, and though your father may be disappointed by the fact that you would not be following in his footsteps, I think he would still be proud that you could help so many of our kind. He knows the value of a Delver. In fact, he married one did he not?" Bran asked smiling.