The Staff of Sakatha

by Tom Liberman

  “It’s too damn close in here,” shouted Odellius, dropping his sword and hurling the dagger-poked darkling past Jon. It smashed into two more of the beasts that hung from the wall. “Just smash ‘em.”

  Jon instantly dropped his sword and plucked another creature from the wall, his massive grip catching it around the leg. He squeezed hard and a snap was followed by a high-pitched shriek. He tossed the creature at another up ahead; the second creature tried to dodge, and this allowed the huge gray knight to stride forward and punch it in the face shattering its nose and cheekbones. It seemed almost instantly that Odellius joined him, and their fists snapped the faces, ribs, arms, and legs of the two or three creatures that remained while the rest suddenly fled into little nooks and crannies in the walls.

  At the front of the long corridor Vipsanius and Sorus stood side by side as a massive shaped loomed out of the darkness. It stood over seven feet tall, was covered by thick white fur, its pink eyes glared out at them, and it held a massive stone club in its hand. “Steady,” said the First Rider with a quick nod to Sorus as they pulled out their blades.

  “I’ve got your left,” said the boy as his feet shuffled, and he moved a few inches backward unintentionally. The creature did not have room to swing its massive weapon in an arc so instead lunged forward more like a fencer with a rapier, and Sorus brought up his own sword to deflect the blade before Vipsansius could stop him. The weight of the stone smashed aside Sorus’s blade and his arm suddenly went numb as the club caught him between the elbow and the shoulder. The First Rider jabbed forward with his own blade, the tip embedding itself in the beast’s shoulder. It screamed in pain and whipped the club around towards Vipsanius, but the First Rider managed to bring up his shield and soften the blow although the force still knocked him against the wall with a thump.

  A terrible splash of dark blood poured from the wound in the creature’s shoulder, which it stared at stupidly for a moment before it raised the club again and brought it down in a short arc against the shield of the First Rider. The metal shield rang out as the stone club hammered down and drove Vipsanius back, his head snapped against the wall with a loud thud. He saw little yellow stars twirling around his head for a moment as the creature reached forward with its free hand to grab him around the neck, but the First Rider managed a quick slash with this sword that severed the massive paw at the wrist and set a spurt of blood cascading in an arc across his eyes.

  At that moment Sorus stabbed at the back of the creature with a small knife gripped in his left hand and plunged it deeply into the flesh of the beast. The thing roared, spun around with its fist into Sorus’s shoulder, sent the boy down and across the floor, but this gave the First Rider a momentary respite in which he gathered his wits.

  When the beast turned to face Vipsanius the man lunged forward with his blade and buried it in the thing’s neck which killed it instantly. The beast’s legs immediately collapsed, it fell forward against the First Rider, and pinned him against the wall with a crash.

  Jon and Odellius, just returned from their own battle, came up on the First Rider just like that when they returned to the doorway. Sorus lay on the floor in a heap and gave off a soft groan while the great furry creature lay, half upright, against the wall. It wasn’t until Vipsanius called out, “A little help here,” that they realized the location of the First Rider.

  Odellius peered around the side of the beast and spotted Vipsanius pinned to the wall as he pushed mightily, but completely ineffectually, to remove the burden.

  “Once, in my youth, I hired out a Bugbear whore but I’m guessing her embrace proved more pleasant than this one?” he said with a smile. “Jon, come here and lend us a strong shoulder, the First Rider’s gotten himself in a jam.”

  Jon had gone over to Sorus and shook the boy’s shoulder to make sure of his health, “Are you all right, Sorus?” but turned to look back at the words of Odellius. “I’ll be right there.”

  Sorus looked up at Jon, his eyes unfocused but immediately spotted the bloody area under his arm, “You’re wounded,” he said and reached forward immediately feeling a wave of nausea and slumping back down. “I think I hit my head.”

  “You’ll be ok,” said Jon. “Just sit there and don’t move for a bit. I’ve got to help Odellius and Vipsanius,” he continued, stood, and headed back to where the other two members of the party awaited him. He arrived and looked over the situation for a few moments, “Can you breathe all right?” he said to the First Rider who nodded his head and grimaced.

  “I can breathe mostly fine except for this big furry lump on my chest,” he said. “It’s bled all over me and I don’t suppose anybody packed a creek?”

  “No,” said Odellius with a laugh as Jon moved under the thing with his left shoulder and braced himself against the wall. The rotund knight wrapped his arms around the blood-soaked creature and said, “One, two, and heave!”

  Jon pushed, Odellius pulled, and for a moment it looked like nothing happened, but then the creature slumped over to one side and then crashed to the floor as more blood flowed from the open wound at its neck.

  “Big fella,” said Jon as he looked down on the creature.

  “Indeed,” said Odellius. “All we had to fight was a bunch of wee little one with daggers,” he went on as he looked over the First Rider carefully. “You don’t look wounded, just a lot of blood.”

  “I’m fine,” said Vipsanius who now took the time to examine Jon and Odellius. “Sir Odellius, get some cloth bandages from my pack and attend to that wound under Jon’s arm. I’ll see to Sorus, he might have a broken arm.”

  Jon sat down and let Odellius peel off first his outer jerkin and then the heavy chain shirt, “The dwarves of your land must have mined out an entire mountain to forge all these links,” he said as he eyed the massive thing and then dropped it to the ground with a clank. “You do have dwarves up north, and they do mine for ore?”

  Jon nodded, “We do and they do. They were one of the first independent nations to join my father in the alliance of Tanelorn,” he said with a smile. “A dwarf named Sir Pedlow Fivefist from a place called Stav’rol, you might have heard of it, one of the great cities of the Old Empire.”

  “I’ve heard of it, but know little. Now, this might hurt a bit,” he said, pulling out a small flask and dipping the clean cloth bandage in it. “But we don’t want that wound to get infected and we’re without a healing priest.” With that he slapped the bandage on Jon whose eyes grew wide but he did not cry out.

  “That’s smarts a bit,” he said through teeth firmly clenched.

  “Now, then, you’re a strong lad,” said Odellius, “a little pain is good for you now and again. It lets you know you’re alive.”

  “True enough, mmmh,” said Jon as the big bellied knight began wrapping a dressing around the bandage and made sure to pull it snug.

  Jon looked over to Sorus and the First Rider for a moment and then back to Odellius. “If Sorus’s arm is broken that makes things more difficult; do you train your fighters to work with both hands?”

  “Some fighters do,” said Odellius, “but remember Sorus is a brewer by training, if he took any sword work at all it was on his own without supervision. I don’t think he’ll be of much use to us from here on, but he’s a brave lad and that’s good enough.”

  Jon nodded, “True,” he finally said as Odellius finished his wrapping. “Besides with you, me, and the First Rider I’d imagine we’re a formidable force against any enemy.”

  Odellius nodded, “Two men and two boys against the darkling hordes, it sounds like a good story indeed. I hope that was just a random party of the things and not a concerted attack.”

  Jon looked at Odellius, “I hope you’re right, but I suspect it’s far more than that. The creatures worked with the white dragon Germanius slew, and they have to know about the Staff of Sakatha,” he said as he got to his feet. “I can’t imagine they want us walking around down here, and there are all those reptile men roaming abo
ut as well. It’s possible they stirred up the darklings and we just cleaned up the mess,” he finished.

  Odellius stood and helped Jon put his armor and jerkin back on, “We should move as fast as possible then. The reptiles men are down to mainly priests and not warriors. If the darklings want to destroy them it won’t be particularly difficult and we need them to lead us to the staff.”

  Suddenly the First Rider looked up from Sorus whose eyes now seemed steady and strong, “That’s it, of course,” he said and stood up with a snap of his fingers. “The reptile men know where the staff is and we’re all just following them, the darklings too!”

  “He’s right,” said Sorus as he got to his feet. “Jon, that white dragon knew you! Its master, that skeletal thing, was working with the dragon children, and the reptile men, so far from Darag’dal, it does make sense.”

  “Are we sure that Lord Whitebone was the dragon’s master?” said Jon, looking at Sorus and putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “Of course,” said Sorus, bobbing his head up and down. “That’s why it attacked as soon as you explained that we, that Sir Germanius, killed the thing. You saw how angry it got when we told the story. It was here to negotiate with the lizards or the dragon children for information about the Staff of Sakatha. Then we came along and ruined the plan.”

  “That all my be true,” said the First Rider, “but if the thing suddenly reappeared now after who knows how many centuries, what is guiding them, and why?”

  “I don’t know,” said Sorus.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Jon, “at least not at the moment. We need to find those reptiles as fast as possible,” and looked at the floor for signs of their passage.

  “Over here,” said Odellius as he pointed to a little green splotch on the floor, “It’s a good thing they chew tobacco,” he said with a grin. “Remind me to liberate a few pouches after we kill them. I’ve had it only twice before when traders brought it from Darag’dal. They say the lizards grow the finest tobacco deep in their swamps.”

  “You’ve had that filthy habit since you were six years old,” said the First Rider, shaking his head and looking at Odellius.

  “Not true,” replied the rotund warrior, “it was my seventh birthday celebration when my uncle gave me my first pouch.”

  Jon looked at Sorus and then to the two men giggling like young girls, “You’d think we weren’t on an important mission,” he said, and the young knight of Elekargul shrugged his shoulders.

  “Old people are weird,” he said and then led the way down the corridor indicated by Odellius. The two older warriors managed to stifle their laughter long enough to follow Sorus and Jon.

  Jon took the lead as the passageway opened up slightly, Sorus kept five feet behind him, while the two older knights followed along in line with the First Rider now in the rear and Odellius behind the young brewer. Jon watched the ground for signs of the green spittle-like substance that the reptile creatures spat out at regular intervals and this kept them along the right passage despite the many twists, turns, and side tunnels.

  “Is anyone keeping track of how many turns we’re making,” said Sorus at one point as he looked backwards towards Odellius and his eyes darted back and forth. “I’m totally lost, I don’t know how deep we’ve gone, how long we’ve been here, or what direction we’re facing.”

  “It’s easy to get turned around underground,” said Odellius, “but all we have to do is follow the spit trail back to the surface after we find the staff.”

  “I guess that’s true,” said Sorus and started forward again his lip twitching nervously, his broken right arm in a sling fashioned by Vispsanius, and a small knife clenched in his left. “By the Black Horse I don’t like being down here at all. I yearn for the open plains of Elekargul, a fiery steed under my hand.”

  “Since when do you have a fiery steed?” said Jon as he took a glance over his shoulder, “other than the one you borrowed from Sir Germanius, which, by the way, you’ll want to return to his family eventually.”

  “It’s just a figure of speech,” said Sorus with a grin on his face and his lip stopped its twitching for a moment. “I’ve ridden a few ponies before you came along.”

  “I’ll miss that trotter of mine if we don’t make it back to the surface alive,” said Jon as he looked again and shone his light down both ends of a double turn in the passage. “I’ll have to remember to stop in Tarlton and pick up some breeding stock to take back to Tanelorn. First Rider,” he continued, “I’m not sure which passage to take here, it goes two ways and I don’t see any stains on the floor down either corridor.”

  The First Rider and Odellius came forward so that all four of them stood together in the passage, “One pick is as good as the next,” he said and peered down each passage. “Who feels lucky?”

  Silence greeted this question.

  “Fine then,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll choose.” With that he headed down the passage to his right with short but steady little strides.

  Jon put his hand out palm up and looked at Sorus and Odellius, “Gentlemen, after you.”

  Sorus followed the First Rider, Odellius went third, and Jon brought up the rear. They followed the passage for perhaps forty or fifty steps when the First Rider suddenly stopped and looked into a little corner where his light seemed unable to penetrate. He held up his hand and Sorus stopped a few feet behind him which brought both Odellius and Jon to a halt as well.

  “Who’s there?” asked the First Rider as he squinted and tried to peer into the impenetrable darkness that suddenly seemed to coalesce into a vaguely humanoid form. Vipsanius immediately took a step back, almost bumped into Sorus, and raised his sword. “Who is it?”

  The dark shadow slid forward over the ground as Sorus, Odellius, and Jon moved up to join the First Rider, “Watch behind us,” he said in a low voice and pointed backwards to Sorus who immediately turned to watch the passage to their rear.

  “I am called Tenebrous,” said the dark shadow with a deep voice that seemed to come from nowhere and all around them at the same time. “I think I might be of help to you.”

  “What manner of creature are you?” said Vipsanius as he looked it up and down and tried to see any sort of shape or form to the thing.

  “I am a shadow escaped from the Deathlands and kept permanently in this condition by She who Rules the Abyss,” said Tenebrous, his form shifting subtly from one shape to the next.

  “How can you help us?” said the First Rider as he kept his sword at the ready position and narrowed his gaze on the creature.

  “The Staff of Sakatha is near,” said the shadowy creature as its form winnowed down and flowed backwards down the corridor. “Time is of the essence. You must follow me to the staff and take it. I will then lead you out of this region.”

  “Don’t trust him,” said Sorus, “he’s a darkling creature of some kind.”

  “He serves the Lady of the Abyss at the very least,” said Odellius who stepped forward and his massive bulk filled almost the entire corridor. “The Staff of Sakatha is a powerful relic of the Old Empire and something she no doubt desires.”

  “I am bound to obey The Lady in all her orders,” said Tenebrous with a slow drawl, “but her commands do not cover every eventuality and with some creativity I am able to pursue my own agenda.”

  The First Rider looked at the creature and again tried to discern any sort of form, but the billowy nature of the thing defeated his every attempt, “Why should I trust you?”

  Tenebrous gave off a low laugh, “I can offer you no assurances, nor do I even know who you are. I assume you are here following the lizard creatures and want the Staff of Sakatha for yourself. I know the gray boy came to this region for that purpose, and you must be his allies.”

  Jon stepped forward, “You know me as well?”

  “My mistress told me of your presence in the region before I was relieved of my duties in this quest,” he said. “I’ve spoken with your brother Valariu
s Tarragonus about certain relics your father has acquired and one in particular that interests me.”

  “My father has something you want?” said Jon as Odellius, Sorus, and Vipsanius looked at one another with quick glances.

  “Sadly,” said the black cloud, “no. Your father is not aware of the location of the particular relic that I seek but he is a resourceful man and your brother a powerful mage. If I help you in this situation then I hope to garner goodwill should any information about the item I seek be unearthed.”

  Jon looked to the First Rider and shrugged his shoulders, “Everything he says about my brother is true, but he is well-known in Tanelorn and the surrounding regions.”

  “Why don’t you take the staff for yourself,” said Vipsanius as he lowered his sword slightly.

  The creature suddenly reached his smoky hand forward towards the First Rider who flinched away even as the smoke passed through the man, “In my current condition it is not possible to grasp and hold things I might desire. Therefore, I find myself reduced to dependence upon others for aid in this regard. Now, Jon Gray and companions, I said time was of the essence and I did not lie. The dreams of Chusarausea the great green dragon guide the dragon children and they close in on the ancient location of the Staff of Sakatha. My colleague, a ghoul named Thantos, guided by darklings, follows and means to ambush them when they break into the final chamber.”

  “How close are they?” said Vipsanius and suddenly stepped close to the creature and lowered his sword.

  “I am uncertain,” said the dark cloud. “I know that the dreams of the dragon became unfettered recently and they are moving directly towards a location somewhere in the region. I assume it is one of the ancient white marble temples of the Old Empire but I do not know for certain. If we continue to stand here and debate, then Thantos will gain the staff and return it to the Lady of the Abyss.”