Glancing warily at the shadowed heights, Vaun again wondered what kind of dwarves those were that lived there. He couldn’t find an easy answer, for his one encounter with a Jaga made him doubt that anything could live near them. Yet Thorne had said his fellow dwarves prospered there, claiming they had a rich and varied mine. Their only flaw, he said, was that they were an odd bunch. He wouldn’t elaborate on that statement, no matter how hard pressed, so Vaun was left to his imagination to satisfy his curiosity.
Vaun didn’t know what to believe, except that every look at those mountains reminded him of the attack in the Overlord’s library. And each time he had to lean down to tend to the itch in his shins.
They had camped in the foothills of the notorious mountains every night since leaving Mahal. The range curved sharply east at one point, which would allow the companions to travel on a straighter course toward their goal and leave the mountains behind. The location spell Merdel had cast on Elak’s handkerchiefs and mirror suggested the Dark Wizard’s fortress was situated right behind the first peaks of the Kalt Mountains almost due north of the northern capital of Norden, and going around the backside of the smaller range was much faster than the alternative, though more dangerous.
Supposedly, the Jaga rarely ventured out of their mountain homes to hunt, except on those rare occasions when someone sent them, or they sought more exciting game. Since the foothills to the rear of the range were fairly steep and therefore hard to travel, they made excellent hunting ground. The companions had encountered no Jaga so far on their trip, though Vaun had heard their eerie hissing and screeching as the creatures hunted at night. He didn’t like being this close to them but knew they could actually help their journey. For the Mahalian pursuit slowly gained on them, and they, too, would be slowed by the treacherous foothills and possibly by the vile creatures that lived nearby. Hopefully, the Jaga would pass their party up in favor of the larger one. Despite that, the youth urged his horse to more speed, but to no avail. At their current pace, which was the fastest anyone could travel in this weather, they still had at least two more nights to spend in the arms of the Black Mountains.
18
“FIND THEM!” ELAK SCREAMED at the mercenaries gathered in a circle around him. They cringed back in fear of the Dark Wizard’s wrath, making Elak grin evilly. “Find them.” His voice softened threateningly. “Or by the black demons of the netherworld I’ll feed every one of you ice-bellied cowards to the Dacheen.”
All the men around him gasped in fear, their weapons and armor rattling as they shifted nervously. To die in the hands of the Dacheen meant to die a thousand times, each death worse than the last. They mumbled to themselves about how horrible such a thing would be and reminded each other about what had happened to the last few men who had failed their master. They wanted to avoid a similar fate.
Lirix watched the wizard’s ranting and the soldiers’ cowering with only slight interest. He hated when Elak shouted at the men, for it made them fear him in a way that gradually led to hatred and resentment. The Dark Wizard had to continue pouring money onto them, and even then he gained only half of their loyalty. No matter how wealthy, men who hated their leaders, especially oppressive ones, eventually betrayed and removed them. That task became even easier when they were perpetually armed with swords.
He knew his mere presence would keep the more rebellious ones at bay, for now at least. Even those who doubted the wizard’s claims about his bodyguard would not attack Elak while he stood nearby. They had all seen the arrogant man fight before, though mostly in spar, but that was enough to warn them of his deadly skill. Lirix also knew Elak’s reputation as a wizard of great power prevented most of them from attacking him, but everyone knew a wizard couldn’t watch his own back all the time. It was also very difficult for even the most powerful mage to cast a spell with a sword in his belly.
Lirix believed most of Elak’s mercenaries were capable men with experienced warrior backgrounds, but the mage’s violent temper kept them from performing at their best. Advising Elak of his mistakes, however, was out of the question. If he angered the temperamental little mage any more than usual, the runt would surely try to kill him. Then Lirix would have to slay Elak long before he intended to, and that would seriously interfere with his plans. So he turned his attention back to Elak’s new orders.
“I want regular patrols on all the passes into these canyons. No less than five men per group. At least one man in each group will carry a mirror. If any of you sees anything even remotely suspicious, you are to signal immediately. You are not to hesitate. You are not to act on your own. Signal me at once, and I will give orders after I have assessed the situation. Only then will you act. Are my orders clear?” Though he phrased it as a question, it came out more as a command.
The mercenaries murmured affirmation, and at Elak’s dismissive wave they all but fled the room. As the last one filed out, Elak addressed his bodyguard. “Keep them in line.”
Lirix nodded, saying nothing. He admired Elak for his dedication to his purpose and somewhat for his power. That was all. He despised the Dark Wizard’s attitude and methodology, yet endured it because it served his own designs. Soon enough, Elak would lose control, and only Lirix would be there to save him. Then he could claim anything he wanted from the man who thought himself so strong.
Grinning in spite of himself, Lirix followed Elak as the mage left the room. He didn’t know where the gaunt little man headed and didn’t much care. His charge was only to keep Elak alive, until such time as the wizard outlived his usefulness, or Lirix simply grew tired of him.
As they walked, Elak muttered constantly, speaking more to himself than the man only a few steps behind him. Lirix strode casually down the fortress corridors half listening to Elak’s words. Though he could only catch a few phrases, Lirix determined that the wizard argued with himself over his next course of action and praised himself for the success he’d had so far. The bodyguard wondered again how Elak managed to keep his sanity amidst all the vile powers he used and recalled how much more unstable the mage had become over the last several weeks. It seemed he was losing his mind at an even faster rate than before. Bored with estimating how long Elak had until a full mental breakdown, Lirix glanced around, thinking again how desperately this place needed some decoration.
Though not a man for extravagance, Lirix still appreciated some adornment when compared to blank stone walls. The fortress had been built ages ago, presumably by dwarves, then abandoned. Even when in use, stories claim it was a place renowned for its starkness. Elak had fled here when circumstances in other lands began leading to his death. Lirix believed he’d come here because it fit his personality.
The wizard had scorned the idea of putting any kind of decorations in his acquired home, whether tapestries, statues, or otherwise. He saw no reason, however, for not adorning his own rooms with the most gaudy array imaginable. None complemented the other; they only clashed horribly and made one squint when inside the room.
Elak, for some unknown and untold reason, abhorred statues, so consequently none stood within a five-mile radius of his mountain home. The few remaining in or outside the long-abandoned fortress when the Dark Wizard arrived had been promptly destroyed. Lirix wasn’t sure what drove Elak’s myriad obsessions, nor did he really care. It did arouse his curiosity, but not enough for him to ask about it. Being a horribly intemperate fellow, the mage would most likely fly into a rage and threaten to kill his bodyguard if asked such questions. Thinking of the spectacle Elak made of himself when angered, and also of how much he despised the man for his lack of self-control, Lirix grinned again.
“What do you find so amusing?” Elak didn’t break stride or look over at his bodyguard.
Lirix paused thoughtfully, then decided it was best not to test the wizard yet. “Just thinking how satisfying it will be to cleave the hearts from Drath and his friends. That Vaun intrigues me. From the reports, he might actually pose a slight challenge right before I open his thr
oat.” Though he hadn’t actually been thinking those thoughts, they were ones he’d pondered before.
Elak made a sound that only slightly passed for a chuckle. “We shall see. You may be skilled, but I have a feeling that youth will give you a hard fight before dying, otherwise Merdel would not have chosen him. The rest of his companions will be no easy targets, either. Merdel, particularly.”
Lirix didn’t know what lay between his employer and the bearded mage from Mahal, but apparently it was enough to warrant a deep hatred. Elak never spoke of it, and Lirix found the subject not worth broaching. He did, however, believe the wizard’s plans were of vital importance, so he asked all the questions he could think of. Elak frequently left out the specifics of his plans but repeatedly emphasized his goal: To take over two worlds. That was a feat undreamed of. Who knew what power one could have if he accomplished such a task?
Lirix had become intrigued when Elak first approached him, and even more so when he’d learned the wizard’s full plans. Elak sincerely believed he could control two worlds, and possibly many others, all by himself. Lirix allowed the sorcerer to believe it, deciding to wait until he realized his mistake and came to Lirix for help. Then he’d put his own plans into motion.
As they approached the double doors leading into Elak’s bedchamber, the two ever-present guards snapped to attention. Stopping as they moved to open the doors, Elak faced his bodyguard for the first time during their conversation. “You are not needed now. Go and see that the men follow my orders. Or practice. Or do whatever it is you do. I don’t care. I’ll call you when I want you nearby.”
Holding back the desire to slice open the wizard’s narrow belly, Lirix nodded wordlessly. Elak had chosen words that he had to know rankled his bodyguard’s expansive pride and made him seem no better than the mercenaries. But Lirix knew not bowing before his employer in front of the other guards or verbally acknowledging his order would upset Elak, so the two continued their game of antagonism.
Catching a glimpse of the pale, naked flesh of Elak’s slaves as the door opened, Lirix turned casually and strode nonchalantly off, acting as if he hadn’t just been given explicit orders. He knew what would occupy the wizard’s attentions for now, and as the doors closed he allowed himself a grin at the thought that that would mean he’d be summoned all too soon.
* * *
And deep in its pit, the Dacheen contemplated its own designs.
19
THE JAGA SCREAMED, leaping onto the youthful, dark-haired rider ten feet below. As its glistening black body slammed into the horseman, the Jaga’s vicious claws raked deep furrows in the neck of the horse. Blood spurted, and the gelding screamed as it fell dying to the snow.
Momentum sent the Jaga and its victim crashing to the ground, the rider already dead from the fangs buried deep in his throat. He never knew he’d been killed, and his companions bolted away in fear at the death of one of their own. Hissing wickedly, the Jaga left its kill and joined its fellows as they pursued the rest of the mounted men trespassing in their domain. And the hunt continued.
* * *
The strong wind and cold, clear air carried the Jaga’s scream easily to Vaun’s ears. Though he knew the sound came from far away, he couldn’t suppress a shudder nor keep himself from looking back upon his trail. He saw only dense snow beginning to cover the tracks he and his companions had just made. Soon they would be completely obscured, but not nearly enough to hide them from the Jaga. If the creatures ever caught their scent, the Swordsman doubted they’d escape alive. There seemed to be thousands of them.
That was the fourth time today a rider had been killed by one of the deadly creatures, and it was barely past noon. At least three men had been slaughtered every day since Rush and Dart had backtracked to observe the following troops, and that was four days ago. The cousins had said there’d been over a score then. They all knew the Jaga eliminated their pursuit, but could not bring themselves to celebrate. Not even Thorne would wish a death in the claws of a Jaga on the Mahalian soldiers.
The party members had left the shadow of the Black Mountains a day and a half ago, yet the sounds of the stalking Jaga and dying soldiers persisted, carrying easily in the cold, clear air. Technically, they rode outside the Jaga hunting grounds, but it wasn’t unheard of for the creatures to venture beyond their territory to seek prey. His companions had said the Mahalian guardsmen fully occupied the Jaga’s attention, and Vaun hoped they were right. He figured it would be his luck, though, that the Jaga picked today to leave their traditional hunting grounds and ignore the rest of the guardsmen.
* * *
Observing Vaun’s scan of the road behind them, Drath swiveled toward his companion riding beside him. He’d noticed that Vaun had gradually become more confident in himself as their journey progressed, but still tended to be easily spooked by potential danger. His Bonding had helped tremendously, yet at times he would act as if his new abilities were a curse instead of a gift. His blatant refusal to fight only when attacked was only one such symptom. Despite other lapses, however, the young adventurer had lost the hunched shoulders that had made him appear weak and insecure and afraid of everything, or more accurately, himself.
Now the youth rode with his back straight and his head high, though the blowing snow kept his chin tilted slightly downward. Still, even the harsh northern winter couldn’t daunt his changed spirit. The tall man smiled and shut his mouth on the encouraging words he’d been about to utter. Vaun didn’t need them anymore.
Drath attributed the great changes in Vaun’s attitudes in part to the talks the two of them had had throughout their journey. They hadn’t had one in a while, and the last thing they’d talked about was Vaun’s shyness around girls. The youth had refused to speak to that lovely serving maid in Landsby, and it had bothered him, since he was supposed to be so different now. Drath had explained that all men felt awkward around women, especially the ones they found attractive. When the tall man brought up the subject of Tara, Vaun nearly decapitated him. The youth had already said that subject was off limits, and that no amount of talking could reconcile what he thought about the girl. That, and he couldn’t bear any more teasing remarks about his association with her. He’d said he liked her and hated her at the same time.
He was angry at her for slapping him and her general rudeness towards him, but he also confessed he found himself unavoidably attracted to her. The contradictory nature of his thoughts frustrated the youth terribly, and Drath had been forced to glean what information he had from the few vague references Vaun made about her. He had let the subject drop, then. The tall man also believed Tara held many of the same feelings for Vaun and had refused to acknowledge them in much the same way as Vaun and for the same reasons.
* * *
“What were you going to say?” Vaun smirked at Drath’s continued attempts to act as his mentor, but it was reassuring to know he was worthy of at least one man’s concern.
Drath smiled, slightly embarrassed at being caught still trying to treat Vaun as a boy surrounded by an unfamiliar, hostile world. The Swordsman was now quite the opposite. “Ummm…I was just going to tell you not to worry about the Jaga. We’re enough out of their hunting grounds that they’ll probably ignore us. I’m sure they know we’re here, but they like to hunt Mahals more.”
“Why?” Vaun couldn’t believe even the Jaga hated the people of Mahal.
“About eighty years ago, one of the Mahalian kings tried to eliminate the Jaga population. The creatures were causing some major problems for caravans, so the king sent a rather large force into the Black Mountains. Stories say the men managed to kill about fifty Jaga before they had to turn back. Only one man survived, and he wouldn’t say anything about what had happened. His hair was white when he returned, and he was only twenty-six.”
“How many soldiers were there?”
Drath thought for a minute. “About four hundred, I think.”
“Fire!” Vaun was dumbfounded. For every Jaga killed, ei
ght guardsmen had lost their lives. It seemed Mahals had a greater reason to hate Jaga, but considering the city’s aggression against the creatures, the Jaga’s wrath was understandable. As another scream wafted to his ears, this time a human one, the Swordsman shook his head. Jaga held strong grudges.
The terrain they now traveled over was not quite as hilly as it had been for the last several days. They had crossed into the Northern Kingdom of Norden shortly before leaving the foothills of the Black Mountains, and since then the travelers had encountered mostly flat, rocky plains covered with deep snow. The snow made the uneven ground deceptively flat, hiding drop-offs with a solid-looking white blanket. Thorne and his horse had fallen into one such ravine the day before, but both had survived with only minor cuts and bruises. The worst damage seemed to be to the dwarf’s ego. The trees had begun to alternate between dense and sparse, with oaks and maples taking over for the evergreens. The stark, frozen branches made the landscape look more desolate and uninviting with each passing league.
Breathing deeply of the crisp air, Vaun came out of his daydream. He’d been drifting off quite a bit these last few days in order to break the monotony of their travel, and sometimes his companions had to all but attack him to gain his attention. Still, he performed his required tasks when they camped and continued to practice each morning and night. He even went through a few maneuvers while riding, enjoying the warm, strong feel the horse gave to the music of the Song and the Rhythm. As he watched his breath billow in a cloud before his face, he decided to try and make Drath spar with him tonight. Since Vaun had Bonded, the tall man had been strangely reluctant to match steel with him.
The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) Page 40
