The Nemedian Trilogy: Book 01 - The Wizard's Magic Kingdom

by Jake Adler

  The beast roared and lowered its head to locate the source of its pain only to be greeted by a second attacker who was now in range. The man immediately swung his weapon towards its right eye, exploding its eyeball like a bowl of red jelly.

  Half blinded now and in immense pain the beast whined. The situation was rapidly changing in favour of the humans and it was at this time that the first demon re-entered the attack. Moving from its statutory position from the exit, it now lunged forwards into the group of men, snapping and ripping apart four of them within a few seconds. Overwhelmed by the mass of blood and flying body parts, Lieutenant Billick stumbled backwards.

  “To the exit!” he screamed as he saw the survivors move nearer to the doorway.

  Lieutenant Billick was able to see the badly injured body of Councillor Vichan being dragged through the exit by the last surviving bodyguard, before the mass of the first Blood Tracker blocked his view, its jaws enclosing round his face and neck. He realised that he was beyond help within less than a second and his last thought was one of surprise at how little pain he felt as the darkness rushed to meet him.

  Chapter 4

  The Dwarven capital city of Takrak was entirely surrounded by granite walls that rose up over thirty metres into the air with a thickness of two men. Na’Jak C’ral, Nemedia’s famous Dwarven architect, had ingeniously built the city atop a large hill, ensuring that its Eastern, Northern and Southern most flanks kissed a four hundred metre sheer drop into the famed ravine and icy waters of the Kalapel River. Legend had it, that if ever the walls of Takrak were breached, that the sun would die and the heavens fall.

  Jetzan had been watching the silhouette of the city’s many spires grow steadily larger as he journeyed South East through open farmland. He was still a good fifteen miles away from Takrak, having long since left the forest terrain behind him.

  The road to Takrak ran in a classical Dwarven straight line, with perfectly crafted stones that appeared to have no edges. Jetzan gauged that the stones were of high grade feldspars, with a famed hardness of that between steel and quartz. The milky white and slightly glassy appearance of the stones, plus their unusual usage for a road made Jetzan wonder if he had guessed incorrectly. He marvelled that such a road could support the weight of the many trade wagons laden with passengers and goods that must have passed by over the five hundred years since its initial construction. The road looked as new as the day it had first been built.

  Putting his musings to one side Jetzan began to jog. He had much ground to cover if he was to reach the city before nightfall. Further ahead he could see a cross of milky white, jutting out brightly surrounded by the bright green fields and knew that he was about to reach the crossroads where he would turn East to complete the final leg of his journey. His keen eyes quickly narrowed as he identified two distant figures, both broad and short in stature, most likely Dwarves he surmised, each seeming to be running from the West towards the crossroads.

  Jetzan paused mid-stride as he pondered whether or not to approach the two men. His long athletic legs would undoubtedly ensure that he would arrive at both the crossroads and Takrak before they did.

  The tracker’s eyes studied their strong gait coupled with their jagged movements, indicating that they were beginning to tire. Briefly, a ray of sunlight glanced off one of the Dwarves, revealing that he was carrying a sizeable weapon of some sort. Curiosity got the better of him and he decided to wait for them at the cross roads.

  * * * *

  “So will you tell me something about this Princess Talina?” asked an inquisitive Ethan, as the three companions rode along the muddy road towards Beshok. The path was deeply scarred with tracks of many wagon wheels with frequent evidence of some wagon having been stuck along the way.

  “What do you want to know my boy?” smiled Master Bedwyr, glancing towards him.

  “Well, what is she like?” Ethan responded. “What use am I and you had better know that there is no way that I am marrying anyone,” he added, feeling brave enough to speak his mind for the first time since he had arrived in Nemedia.

  Cara gave a quiet cough and covered her mouth. Ethan flicked his eyes over to her and realised that she was attempting to hide a chuckle.

  “Oh don’t go worrying about that. It’s not essential anyway,” replied Master Bedwyr cheerily, “well, to answer your question, Princess Talina is not human. We are travelling into the realm of Wood Nymphs and Fairies.” He slowed his horse so he could get a better look at Ethan.

  “I’ve had the great pleasure of knowing little Talina since she was a babe in arms, and I know her father very well,” he smiled.

  “Not human?” quizzed a confused Ethan, “what is she then?”

  “Talina is a Wood Nymph,” Master Bedwyr replied.

  “I’ve heard of Wood Nymphs in my world. They are sometimes mentioned in Greek legend.”

  “Oh don’t go expecting your Greek legends to be anywhere near accurate,” Master Bedwyr stated, “Princess Talina and her people that are the only race that have not experienced any loss of magic.” Master Bedwyr raised his hand to adjust his spectacles, “we suspect that it has something to do with their strong connection to the forests of Findias. We’d like to see if you can achieve a similar connection, both in our world and between our worlds.”

  “How on earth would I be able to do that?” asked a confused Ethan.

  Master Bedwyr’s eyebrows raised as he peered at Ethan over the top of his circular rimmed spectacles, “Wood Nymphs can travel between trees in spirit form. This ability may create an unbreakable barrier that saves them from any loss of magic.”

  Master Bedwyr’s eyes shone with a fire Ethan hadn’t seen before, “Long ago, just before the battle of Malakan, a human from your world was able to use magic in both our worlds,” He lowered his head and whispered, “this ability killed her in the end, but we will be more careful next time.” Master Bedwyr finished his words with a friendly wink and nudged his horse forwards before Ethan could respond.

  Ethan stared dumbly at the back of Master Bedwyr, letting the full impact of his words sink in.

  “What was Master Bedwyr whispering to you?” inquired Cara, seeing Ethan’s troubled expression.

  “You heard the bit about the Wood Nymphs?”Cara nodded, “well, he mentioned something about someone from my world having magical powers,” he paused as he was suddenly struck by the urge to protect her from worry.

  “Oh I don’t know, it didn’t make much sense.” His gaze moved off towards the distance. It was something he would do when he was either lying, or trying to avoid answering a difficult question.

  “You are keeping something from me,” she stated as her eyes locked onto his.

  “I – er,” he mumbled in response and blinked rapidly, “you should ask Master Bedwyr,” he finally breathed in response.

  “I’m asking you, not Master Bedwyr,” she persisted, holding his gaze now with an iron grip.

  Ethan knew that he had no option but to tell her. “Well, apparently I am to be taught how to travel between trees and might die in the process,” he stated the matter simply.

  Cara continued to stare at him for a few moments longer, while she gauged whether what he had just told her was the truth. Finally satisfied, she shifted her gaze towards Master Bedwyr.

  With a quiet and firm voice she spoke, “No you won’t die Ethan. I won’t allow it. You are far too important to me to allow that to happen.” Cara glanced back at him again with that look, which he couldn’t quite place. Within moments, it had disappeared again. Without speaking further, she quietly nudged her horse forwards further along the path.

  * * * *

  Gizurr was the first to notice the tall figure of a human standing about a mile off into the distance. It had clearly stopped and was facing in their direction. “Poke my eyes out and roast them in embers!” he growled nodding his head to direct Ragni’s gaze.

  “Might be one of those human Emissaries?” responded a heavily perspiring
Ragni. His friend was clearly tiring. Ragni could be described as a slightly more overweight version of Gizurr which in itself was quite an achievement. In recent years he had taken a particular liking to the steak and kidney pies baked within the kitchens of the Axe and Wood Inn which he would regularly wash down with several tankards of ale each day.

  “He could be a robber or just an idiot.” Gizurr grumbled. He was well known to generally dislike humans, considering them to be overly smug about their height advantage.

  Ragni smiled at his friend’s gruff response, “What do you think we should do?” he queried, looking down at the fast moving feet of Gizurr who was now speeding up ahead of him.

  “Talk to him or kill him.” Gizurr snapped as they closed the gap between the human.

  About a hundred metres away Gizurr halted, “Ho there human!” he shouted. “Are you waiting for us or just spitting in the wind?”

  The human, a tracker by the look of his clothing gave a surprisingly warm smile. “I could well be doing both couldn’t I?”

  “Well I have no time for wind spitters!” barked Gizurr grimacing in response. Keeping his eyes on the man, Gizurr leaned forward and rested his hands on his thighs.

  Ragni who had now caught up with them approached in a friendlier vein, “Well met human. We have news of something evil, last seen travelling South West.” He panted, swiftly dropping to one knee to recover from his long run.

  With these words the face of the human changed to that of concern. “Tell me more,” he asked with a sense of urgency that neither of them could mistake for false curiosity.

  Gizurr instinctively liked the human, much to his own irritation. “A demon it was,” he stated, his eyes widening with the memory, “black like a shadow out of hell.”

  “Did it travel on two hind legs and move at great speed?” the human asked.

  “Have you seen it’s like before?” Gizurr enquired, moving closer towards the human and examining his face closely.

  “No, but I have followed its tracks for the past couple of days. It travelled too quickly for me to be able to catch up with it on foot. I suspect it has already reached its destination.” The man’s deep green eyes settled upon Gizurr and a look of deep sadness crossed his face.

  “Time we spoke with Jarl Egill,” growled Gizurr through a clenched jaw.

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself. We also need horses,” the human remarked.

  “You may call me Gizurr,” said the Dwarf as he grabbed hold of the man’s hand and shook it firmly.

  “Jetzan. I’m a tracker by trade and profession.” Jetzan responded with a surprisingly deep bow.

  The three men wasted no more time and with a twitch of Gizurr’s head they began a slow jog towards the city of Takrak. The terrain consisted of flat open fields of lush grasses that rippled like waves in the afternoon breeze. Some quarter of a mile off the main road, Jetzan’s keen eyes noticed a small break in the uniformity of the grasses that he instinctively knew to be unnatural. If somebody lay injured and he had passed by, it would not sit easily with him.

  “Gizurr –,” he began to speak.

  “I see it too,” interjected Gizurr, “and you want to investigate it.” The Dwarf responded as if the matter was already settled.

  Reassured at the Dwarf’s reply, Jetzan immediately left the roadway, noting the change in the sound of their footsteps, as their legs pushed through the thick grasses that were at least two feet high.

  Within a short space of time they had closed in on the dark area which had grown steadily in size as they had approached. It was not a body but a gigantic hole. Slowing into a series of micro steps, they gingerly inched themselves forward to peer over the edge.

  The hole was at least four foot wide and it looked like there had been some type of cave-in. A faint glow of orange firelight could be seen some twenty feet below them, indicating that they were stood above tunnels that were being actively used.

  “Do you have any mines out here?” inquired Jetzan.

  “There’s only dirt, clay and a few worthless rocks out here. There are no gems, metals or anything of value.” Gizurr replied in confusion.

  Almost at once the three companions knew what the side tunnel indicated and a deep sense of foreboding hit them. The fabled city of Takrak, impregnable granite walls, sheltered on three sides by a four hundred foot ravine and river, was built upon a hill. This hill, which would add to its strategic defence against those attacking above on the surface rested only upon average soiled and slightly rocky ground. If you cannot break through or go over an obstacle, there is nothing stopping you from going underneath it.

  Before the companions had a chance to back away from the hole, fate decided that due to the recent rains that it would widen it by a further couple of feet and instantly swallowed them down into its depths.

  Chapter 5

  Ellaminva Llellyvn sighed and cupped her chin in her hands as she sat in the warm grass to stare at her friend. Vank was a male adolescent Dragon and she had known him since he was a newborn Dragonling some eighty years ago. He had been up to his old tricks of helping himself to her father’s vegetables again, something which most Dragons strictly avoided, largely due to their infamous digestive problems.

  “You really should strike a match after that last one.” Ellaminva admonished.

  “What for, I’m out in the fresh air and besides, it’s better out than in.” Vank grinned, his lime green eyes and rainbow coloured scales glistening in rhythm to his soft chuckles in the afternoon’s warm sunshine.

  POP. “Ah that’s better,” he snorted and spun in a slow circle wrapping his oversized tail around him as he settled on the soft grass.

  Ellaminva uncrossed her legs and stood up with a smile. “You really do make me laugh, but if you dare do that inside the house I will be upset.”

  Vank stared up innocently at her face to gauge her mood and then immediately smiled as he saw her warm blue eyes twinkling. Ellaminva was now of an age to be considered a beautiful Elven woman. She could easily be classified as comely even in the eyes of her kin, who were themselves considered to be a fair race. She stood an athletic six feet tall yet moved with an almost ethereal grace. However, Vank was not fooled. Underneath her grace and beauty lay both a strength and agility that could easily best most of those pesky humans that Vank had heard so many bad things about. To Vank, Ellaminva was both his best friend and his family and he followed her everywhere.

  “I’m going to see father to apologise on your behalf about his prized vegetables,” Ellaminva said, “and you’re staying here until you’ve finished.”

  POP. POP. POP.

  “Yes, well I don’t need to say anything further on that do I?” She grinned as she spun around and jogged towards the village green, “See you in a few hours!” she shouted over her shoulder as she began to run.

  But Vank was already fast asleep. Popping and burping merrily away in the afternoon sun.

  * * * *

  Gizurr groaned and rapidly felt a hand clasp itself over his mouth in response. “Ssshh” said Ragni his eyes huge in the semi-darkness as he nodded towards the moving silhouettes highlighted by the torchlight of an adjacent passageway.

  “Thank the Creator he’s finally awake,” whispered Jetzan, who Gizurr found to be closely pressed against him in the small confines of the side tunnel where they were hiding.

  “Where are we?” croaked Gizurr as he lifted his left hand to feel his forehead to feel a massive bump, loosely covered by some sort of cloth mixed with the wet, warm throb of his own blood.

  “Don’t mess,” Ragni hissed. The Dwarf was clearly terrified and wanted Gizurr to remain both as still and quiet as possible.

  Gizurr steadied himself and silently felt around in the gloom with his hands. Jetzan’s tall torso was situated to his right and had clasped hold of one of his arms and Ragni was situated to his other side. They had clearly been holding him upright between the two of them for some time while they hid behind a sl
im column of rock situated near to the collapsed tunnel that they had fallen into. At any moment they might be discovered and it was immediately clear to Gizurr that they needed to move fast.

  “Get ready on my command,” whispered Jetzan as he stared into the semi darkness and listened.

  The silhouettes of over a hundred bodies on the walls of the tunnel could be seen passing by. The occasional grunts and guttural sounding dialect that they used informed the companions that the shadowy figures were those of Orcs. Gizurr’s blood turned cold with the knowledge that should they be discovered that they were thoroughly outnumbered and would be easily slaughtered.

  The shuffling sound made by the Orcish battalion slowly became fainter and the silhouettes disappeared from view. This was their opportunity to move and they all knew it.

  “Now hold onto my belt Gizurr, and Ragni you hold onto Gizurr’s!” hissed Jetzan as he darted from behind the stone column where they were hiding and crept cautiously ahead into the gloom.

  Even in the semi-darkness, the companions were immediately struck by the size of the main tunnel. It was large enough to house the movements of heavy equipment along with a large invading army. Standing at over forty feet high and thirty feet wide it must have taken both considerable time and effort to have them engineered. The companions stood in no doubt that nothing less than a mass invasion was about to take place, whether this would affect just the Dwarven stronghold of Takrak remained unknown, but given the sighting of demons headed South West to the human settlements, it was looking increasingly likely like that it was a worldwide invasion that was taking place.

  Shaking his head at these thoughts, Jetzan focused on the immediate task of finding a safer hiding place for the group. Spying a mass of boulders to the right hand side of the tunnel Jetzan quickly led them there and they crouched down low to consider their next course of action.