by Tom Liberman
“Enough of your listing of her titles, is she so insecure in her reign that her servants must repeat endlessly this mantra of her eternal rule. Damn you, Thantos, and damn your mistress as well,” said Whitebone turning his back on the ghoul with a sweep of his long cape.
“Shall I convey that message to She Who Eternally Rules,” said Thantos, unable to keep the smirk from his face but the comment did not provoke the angry reaction for which he hoped.
The undead master said nothing and paced back and forth in front of the ghoul for a long minute before he turned to face the creature once again, “How did it happen?”
Thantos spread his arms, “Our informant did not witness the actually murder itself, merely the milieu after the fact. We have a description of the culprits.”
“Tell me,” said Whitebone, moving to within inches of the ghoul.
“It is not for me to say,” said Thantos and once again he smirked as his impossibly long tongue licked up into the hollow of his nose. “The Mistress of the Abyss, She Who Rules Forever, stays my hand unless you are willing to negotiate.”
Whitebone reached forward with a long hand, his clawed fingers came to rest under the chin of the ghoulish creature and dug into the decayed flesh. “I raised that dragon from an egg,” he said. “I will have vengeance upon those who killed him and I will not tolerate anyone who keeps the culprits from me. I will tear you limb from limb if you do not come forward with the information immediately!”
Thantos looked at the burning embers in the hollow sockets of Lord Whitebone’s face and shook his head, “No, Lord Whitebone. While I’m convinced your threats are genuine I cannot violate a direct order of the Lady of the Abyss, even should I so desire. You know this to be true as you, in your state of undeath, are subject to the same laws as I.”
Whitebone glared at the ghoul for a moment but then slowly pulled back his hand and put it behind his back where he clasped it with his other, “True enough, Thantos,” he said as his eyes dipped in intensity to a molten hot piece of metal freshly pulled from the forge. “What does the Mistress of the Abyss desire from me?”
Thantos smiled and walked over to the bone throne, sat down in it, put his hands on the armrests, and once again licked his face, “She Who Rules Eternally, The Great and Glorious One, wishes you to personally see to the Staff of Sakatha. When you, personally, on your knee, return it to her then she will give you the descriptions of the people responsible for the death of your little dragon.”
“Perhaps,” said Whitebone who moved a few steps away from Thantos, “you are lying about my pet in order to get what you want?”
Thantos shrugged, “I merely follow the orders given to me by the Lady of Death, the Ruler of the Deathlands. I do not know if your precious pet is alive or dead. I simply relay information from her to you. If you think I am lying than I shall return to my mistress, She Who Has Ruled for all Eternity, and report your answer.”
Lord Whitebone nodded his skeletal head and stared at the ghoulish creature for a long moment as his eyes slowed cooled to a deep red. “That is true of course, and I shall find out if Snowball is dead in due course in any case. Naturally, if it is a lie your mistress knows how I will react when I find out. She also knows that she is safe from my wrath but you, Thantos, are not.”
“Your threats, as I explained earlier, are of no concern to me,” said the ghoul and playfully ran his hands over the throne and snapped off what looked to be a finger bone, “oops.”
“I agree to your terms,” said the skeletal ruler of the region. “I will travel by portal to the darklands and see to the retrieval of the staff myself. However, not being a dragon child, I do not have access to the dreams of Chusarausea and this limits my ability to find the staff. The dragon dreams are only accessible to descendants of that race, the reptile men and such. Snowball was to coordinate activity with several dragon children but now I do not have those contacts, unless they survived the events that killed my dragon.”
“I have no knowledge of that,” said Thantos with a shrug his shoulders, “and the difficulty of finding the staff is not my concern. I simply expect that you will find it, you will obtain it, and you will return it to She Who Rules Eternally. Other than that, I leave the details to you.”
“Now, if you will vacate my seat,” said Whitebone and nodded his head slightly to Thantos, “I can summon my servants and prepare to venture out.”
“If you require any further aid from me, or the Lady of the Abyss,” said Thantos, as he stood up and casually tossed the finger bone across the floor where it came to rest up against the wall, you will inform us over the usual channels.” With that the ghoul walked down the narrow hallways and soon disappeared around a corner.
Whitebone sat in his throne and stared into empty space for some time until a large soldier with a badly scarred face approached, “Lord Whitebone,” he said with a bow. “Your orders?”
“Tell the mages to prepare the portal for travel to the darklands, the same location we sent Snowball,” said the master of the realm as his fingers tapped irregularly on his bone throne.
The scarred warrior turned to leave but Whitebone raised a finger, “General,” he said and the soldier turned back to face his commander. “Tell everyone to keep an eye out for the dark shadow Tenebrous and if they see him to report it to me immediately,” he finished.
“Yes, Lord Whitebone,” said the scarred warrior and turned once again and marched stiffly out of the room.
“The black shadow is far more dangerous than Thantos,” mused Whitebone as his fingers tapped out a rhythm on the throne, “and yet far more useful at the same time. It is most vexing that the most predictable of my servants and my enemies are also the least useful. I suppose that is the way of things.”
Chapter 15
“My head hurts,” said Sorus as the trio of men and their horses walked slowly east towards the Mountains of the Orc. Ahead of them the Frosty Run gurgled with snow melt and promised fresh fish for dinner but, for the moment, the air was crisp, the sky blue, and the boy’s head hurt.
“Let that be a lesson,” said Proteus as he glanced over from his mount. “Next time drink in moderation. All things in moderation, drink, food, battle, horseback riding, and dungeon delving for lost relics of the Old Empire.”
“Ooooh,” moaned Sorus as his horse’s hooves plowed into the lush fields of grass where pretty little orange flowers blossomed more fully as the morning progressed. “I’ll never drink again,” and then he suddenly pulled his horse over, tried to dismount, fell to the ground on his knees and then elbows, and then threw up with great heaves. The horse moved away.
“Eggs,” said Jon with a shake of his head and looked at Proteus with a smile on his face, but also turned the other way, his own stomach suddenly queasy.
“I didn’t think that was such a good idea this morning,” said the square-jawed Brokenshield who also shook his head, “but I did suggest just some stale bread and a little milk.”
“Shut up,” said Sorus from the ground, “it’s not like I can’t hear you,” and then he started to heave again although only liquid came up and then nothing at all. After a few more moments he staggered to his feet, lurched over to his horse, pulled off a canteen, and took a shallow swig of water. He breathed deeply for a few more moments and then took another sip.
“At least he didn’t throw-up on the flowers,” said Jon. “What are those orange ones? Our flora and fauna is totally different in Tanelorn.”
“Flora and fauna?” said Proteus.
“That’s what it’s called,” said Jon. “Animals and plants,” he continued and moved his hand, open palm towards the landscape.
“I know that’s what it’s called,” said Proteus with a smile as he threw up his own hands in a defensive gesture. “I just don’t often here those terms used. You did have quite the education back in Tanelorn.”
“I guess so,” said Jon. “My mom made sure of that and my older brother Val is kind of a stickler about l
earning things. He’s a gray druid now and he talks with dad and the other elders about important things.”
“An older brother,” said Proteus. “I can’t imagine your poor mother wanting to have children after one like you,” he said as they waited for Sorus to roll onto his horse and continue the journey. The poor boy managed to mount on his third try as he slung his leg up and around and then fell forward, face down, onto the mane of the beast.
“He was born early,” said Jon. “He’s much shorter than me and has a club foot so he’s more of a wizard than a fighter. That’s not to say he doesn’t know his way around the blade though,” said Jon suddenly and turned his head and looked at Proteus. “I didn’t mean to say ….”
Proteus smiled and shook his head, “I didn’t take it that way Jon, and I’ve got an older brother myself. I’m sure he’s a fine bladesman but everyone has their own specialties and interests. Not everyone is made out to be a knight,” he said with a shrug and looked over at Sorus. “Sit up straight boy, leaned over like that you bounce more, and in your condition, that’s not good.”
“Uhghh,” said Sorus and tried to sit up but only managed a half slump in his seat. “I don’t feel good.”
“Is your brother a knight?” said Jon as he looked at Proteus, “or is he a potter or something?”
“He’s a knight as well,” said Proteus with a shrug and quick rise of his eyebrows, “but that doesn’t mean it’s for everyone. Some of my friends growing up wanted to be knights but then as they got older decided on something else, farming, pottery, tailor, tanner, anything really. There’s no shame in it and those are important professions,” he continued and slapped the leather riding saddle and then the thick wool shirt he wore. “Like I said before, we knights take our twelve month but we don’t really learn a profession. If the journeymen didn’t do their job then the nation wouldn’t be the same.”
“Do you have many wizards here?” said Jon as he glanced over at Sorus. “The reptile men to the south of Tanelorn have snake wizards and we skirmish with them regularly and then there are the rock beasts.”
“Rock beasts,” said Sorus suddenly alert, “what are those?”
Jon shrugged, “That’s something the gray druids want to know as well,” he said and suddenly became quiet. Sorus looked at Proteus who held up his hand palm toward the young knight and nodded twice quickly with his head as they watched Jon. After a few moments the gray knight seemed to come out of his reverie and looked at the other two and shook his head as if to wake himself up. “Sorry, it’s just that I haven’t been away from home for this long ever before. I was just thinking about my family, my friends, my girlfriends.”
“Girlfriends?” said Sorus smiling, “plural?”
Jon shrugged and smiled with a closed mouth, “Well, who am I to say no when they come knocking at my door. I hate to be rude.”
Proteus laughed, “It must be tough to be the son of the ruler,” he said, nudged his horse over to Jon, and smacked the broad-shouldered boy on the back.
“You forgot to say, ‘the son of the ruler and devastatingly handsome,’” said Jon and gave the older man a punch to the shoulder that rocked him to the side.
“My mistake,” said Proteus and reached up with a pained expression to his shoulder, “and watch yourself when you punch your elders, we’re frail old men.”
Jon and Sorus laughed and the young knight of Elekargul suddenly remembered the original question, “Jon, what are rock beasts?”
“There is a … creature … an elemental thing … well, something to the east of Tanelorn called the Rock Lord. No one really knows what it is to be honest. He appeared before I was born not long after my father settled in the region, before Tanelorn. He … it …whatever, it somehow turns living creatures into stone beasts, not just animals either, plants, insects, and people.”
“How do you fight a thing like that,” said Proteus and looked at Jon with a shake of his head.
“That’s what the gray druids do most of the time; they keep the Rock Lord and his minions in check. It’s not hard once you learn the proper spells, a liberal dose of water, a quick bit of cold, and then a heavy batch of hammer play from the gray knights does the trick,” said Jon. “I’ve broken up quite a few in my day. Luckily they’re not too bright, not much different from fighting zombies and skeletons really. They don’t coordinate well and can’t function as a unit on anything other than at the most basic level.”
“That’s horrible, living creatures turned to stone but still alive,” said Proteus. “No wonder the druids of your land want to destroy them so much. If they can’t function as a military unit why doesn’t your father just march on them, kill this Rock Lord, and end his reign once and for all.”
“My father swore never to launch an aggressive military campaign. The knights of gray and the druids of gray only go to battle if we are attacked by someone else,” said Jon. “That was one of the pledges he made to the Union of Grelm and the Five Nations so that they accepted his rule in the region.”
“But you said the rock beasts and you fight regularly,” said Sorus. “Why don’t you just wait for them to attack and then counterattack them all the way back to this Rock Lord.”
“My father,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders, “thinks that a violation of the spirit of his pledge. When attacked we only fight back to the edge of our borders and then leave off. I don’t agree with him myself but he’s still in charge of the lands and, until I’m in command, that’s the way it is.”
“Will you be the Gray Lord eventually,” said Sorus and looked at Jon closely with lips slightly parted.
Jon shrugged again, “I don’t know. My brother says he doesn’t want to be ruler and there are other men, older than I, who are powerful warriors and my father’s aides. My father didn’t get married until later in life and Val is twenty-five; I’m seventeen like my sister but my father is sixty. There’s Scar Blackheart, he’s an orc formerly of the Black Rose tribe of the Five Nations, and others as well. My father says that each generation has to rule themselves and overcome their own hardships so I don’t even know if Tanelorn will go on after he dies.”
Proteus and Sorus continued alongside Jon as their horses moved at a slow but steady pace. No one said anything for the next few miles, and soon a little eddy of the Frosty Run appeared in the clear morning air. Sorus rode ahead, dismounted, and plunged his head into the cool mountain-fed river for a moment. He then pulled out and shook his head back and forth before he ducked it back under for a second time. He repeated this process several more times until his ears were bright red and his face had a huge smile. “Now, that’s more like it,” he said and stood up straight, bent his back, and looked up into the blue sky where a few fluffy clouds drifted past. “I’m feeling better now!”
“Kids,” said Proteus and shook his head as a broad grin came across his face. “It takes me four days to recover from something like that.”
“You drink too much frequently?” said Jon although he also laughed at Sorus’s new found energy.
Proteus looked at Jon and raised his eyebrows, “Come on, Sir Sorus, let’s try and find a ford in the river so we can head up in the mountains, find that relic, and get back to my boys before the First Rider even knows we’re on the mission.”
Jon pulled on his reins and turned his horse north and upstream, “I’ll head north,” he said and spurred the two toned trotter into a canter.
“I guess we’ll go downstream,” said Proteus to Sorus and the young man looked up towards the square jawed former knight and managed to glance at the sun. He turned his head and closed his eyes, “Ughhh, maybe I’m not so great,” he muttered and bent over for a moment but managed to keep from a repeat performance.
“Mount up there, Nightwalk,” said Proteus, “and let’s find that ford before Sir I’ve got ten girlfriends back home finds one and starts to feel even better about himself.”
Sorus managed to get back on is horse and they took off downstream at a
slower pace than Jon. It took them about twenty minutes to find a good spot to cross the river and they met up with Jon about half way back. A quick decision sent them across the river and within an hour they approached the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc.
“Where does that map say we head up?” said Sorus as they rode along the foothills and occasionally glanced towards the mountains that loomed high above them.
“It’s not really that fine a map, Sorus,” said Proteus with a glance towards the saddlebag where the map rested. “We should find a small trail somewhere along here and then head up. If we find the right one then we’ll find some ruins about halfway up the mountain but it might be dark by then.”
“Great, another night in the mountains,” said Sorus. “At least I’ve still got my cold weather gear from the last time.”
Soon enough they found a trail but, before they headed up, Sorus spent considerable time scouting out the region to look for any hidden ambushes. When Proteus looked to Jon the young knight nodded his head and said, “You can’t blame him after what happened before,” and then explained the death of Mikus to the older knight.
“The problem,” said Proteus in a low voice to Jon while Sorus was off, “is that an ambush might be around any corner and you can’t spend hours looking under every rock.”
“I know,” said Jon, “but I think we can afford to lose ten minutes here and he’ll learn in time that sometimes things just happen and no one is to blame.”
After the short delay they led the horses up into the mountains on the small trail. They spent most of the day in the slow ascent and stopped once when a goat almost ran headlong into them. Proteus took it down with a quick shot from a small bow he carried at his side and they dressed the creature quickly before they continued the journey.
“I don’t think we’ll make the ruin before nightfall,” said Proteus as he looked to the darkened sky. “We should find a campsite soon. There are goblins up in the hills most nights and they’ve been more aggressive of late.”
