by Philip Blood
“It’s time we finalized our plans and departed on our quest to locate and finish Lady Ardellen and her son,” SCorcH lisped, deciding to let her get away with her petty game of ‘make them wait’.
“I agree, but I have some new ideas about how we should proceed,” RIveK stated.
“And what are these new ideas?” SCorcH asked suspiciously.
“Since we don’t precisely know where she is, I think one of us should leave immediately for her last known position while the other searches by mind projection. This way we can achieve maximum speed in intercepting the Kirnath woman. I volunteer to be in the field while you make the search for her,” RIveK finished, but thought, Come on, pretty boy, I know you won’t let me have my way.
“It is a good plan, but I think I should go after the sorceress. As you pointed out in the council meeting, use a woman to catch a woman. You have a better chance of tracking her than a man, you can better relate to how she thinks,” SCorcH responded.
Thank you, SCorcH, RIveK thought in amused glee, for being so predictably contrary, but she answered SCorcH’s proposal as if angry with the idea. “No, I should go after her; the same logic applies to the battle when we find the Kirnath witch.”
“I disagree; there will be no battle, just an execution. She is only a sorceress, a healer, no match for a full necromancer wielding the power of the Dark Plane,” SCorcH replied with certainty.
RIveK paced along the table looking as if she was in deep thought. She paused thoughtfully to stare into one of the purple crystals lighting the room. I wonder if I have pondered my alleged second defeat long enough to convince him that I wanted to go? Probably, but it’s best to make sure. After her brief pause, she spoke, “Fine, but I want it under protest that I think I should have confronted her, not SCorcH,” and she looked at SKartaQ who had remained silent through the earlier exchange.
“So noted,” SKartaQ said quietly.
RIveK hid her triumph behind a mask of anger. “Fine, we’ll arrange nightly places where I can contact you by projection, that way I can find you easily when I have located the sorceress.”
SCorcH nodded his grotesque head once in agreement.
The silk clad redhead turned and stormed from the room, her thoughts triumphant, I achieved everything I wanted. When we find her I will get credit for it. The Kirnath witch should have no problem eradicating SCorcH once I warn her that he is coming. Once that deed is done I will destroy her and get the credit for avenging SCorcH and removing the sorceress as a threat to our plans. There’s something refreshing about killing a rival and then getting the credit for avenging his untimely death. I just wish it was CAracusS I was about to kill, then life would indeed be perfect.
Back in Lindankar's capitol Major Von Dracek received a coded message while preparing the schedule for the Lindankar troop movements during the upcoming campaign against Olsk. The message was his reply from Raven, his spy at the Kirnath School and it read:
Major:
Only one strange event has transpired since I received your last instructions. On the night I received the message a baby was found at the gate of the school. Such things happen here from time to time, so normally I would think nothing of it, but I was suspicious since you warned me to watch for the arrival of a mother and her high aura child.
Any child brought to the school is always tested for aura potential. I heard that this child tested abnormally low, a total washout as a student. They considered sending the child to foster parents in town, but decided at the last to give him to a serving drudge here that had recently lost her child, she was still with milk.
I decided to check into it further. So the very night the child was found I went to see his new stepmother and the child in question. I did my own test and confirmed that this child had a very weak aura. It is definitely not the boy about whom you had written. This has been the only odd occurrence since you have instructed me to be on guard. Since that night, I have watched diligently for the woman and boy in question, to my knowledge neither have arrived.
Since I lack a target I will revert to my old orders. I'll keep sending information about Kirnath movements. I will also continue to watch for the woman and boy in case they arrive later than you anticipated.
Until next we communicate,
Sincerely,
Raven
The major destroyed the message and went back to work on his battle plan, but the Kirnath school was seldom far from the Tchulian commander's thoughts.
Deep under the Tchulian stronghold far from Lindankar, three of the Knight Protectors were cautiously moving through the dark passages.
“What was that?” Lasar asked suddenly, holding up his hand to halt the progress of Becaris and Rasal.
He was five paces in front of them holding up a torch to light their way through the natural caverns under the Tchulian fortress. They had wandered around for three bells, hiding from search parties and twice getting into battles with small contingents of Tchulian soldiers.
Both battles had ended inconclusively. They had killed a few Tchulians and then fled in the confusion. Rasal had taken a small wound in his upper right shoulder, but other than that they were untouched.
“I’m not sure, did you hear anything, Rasal?” Becaris asked.
“No, I think Lasar is just hearing things again,” the twin brother responded.
“There, did you hear that scraping sound?” Lasar hissed back to them.
“Yes, I think there is something there, draw your weapons,” Becaris decided.
“And I was just hearing things,” Lasar muttered.
The three knights took up a defensive stance and heard a strange deep voice out of the dark from just beyond where their torchlight illuminated the passage.
“You not uniforms, you integlebat?”
“What, in G’lan’s name?” Lasar whispered.
“Who calls out in the dark?” Becaris said boldly.
A high pitched voice now answered his question. “He meant `intelligent’, he’s just too stupid to say it correctly. “
“What do you want?” Becaris called out into the dark.
“I’m Halvisun and the other disgusting voice you hear is Ebemoon,” the high pitched voice called back.
“Come into the light,” Becaris said trying to get a look at the creatures.
“NO, fire little sticks at us,” the deep voice bellowed.
“My brainless companion is correct, we dare not risk bow fire, so we must remain in the dark for now. What are you doing in these caverns?” Halvisun’s voice called out.
“We’re looking for a man named G’Taklar,” Becaris called back.
“Eat G’tabler brain!” the deep voice of Ebemoon boomed.
“He did what?” Lasar called.
“That’s what he wants to do, not what he has accomplished. I stopped him,” Halvisun explained.
“Since you saw him, perhaps you can help us find him,” Becaris suggested.
“This Ebemoon sounds huge,” Lasar whispered to Becaris.
Becaris gestured for him to remain silent. Halvisun spoke in his high-pitched voice, “I can take you to the last place we saw him, but you’ll have to discern his fate for yourselves.”
Rasal stepped nearer his brother and Becaris and spoke softly, “I hear soldiers approaching from behind us.”
Halvisun spoke, “Soldiers come. If I protect you from the Tchulians and take you to where I last saw your friend, will you answer some questions?”
“I give you my word as a Knight Protector of Michael Ardellen,” Becaris swore.
“Accepted. Now please stand aside,” Halvisun commanded.
A Tchulian corporal appeared from around the corner, he led a squad of ten Tchulian soldiers.
“There are the spies, put ‘em te the sword!” the corporal called out when he saw the three knights.
Lasar and Becaris turned to look when they heard the corporal yell, so they both failed to see Ebemoon and Halvisun coming. The giant souldead cr
eature was passed them in three bounds. He attacked the soldiers with his huge muscular arms and clawed hands outstretched and ready to rend.
Since killing was his specialty Halvisun let Ebemoon have some control although it was not his cycle. The souldead’s massive body moved so fast that the Tchulians didn’t see him coming until he had grabbed the first two men and dashed their heads together so hard that their skulls burst open.
The Souldead creature bit into the exposed brain of the dead soldier he held with his right hand. At this horrible sight, the soldiers in the back turned and fled.
The two soldiers unlucky enough to be next in line tried to swing their swords at the bloody behemoth.
Ebemoon threw the dead body in his right hand at the two swordsmen and knocked them to the ground. Then he pounced on them before they could scramble to their feet. He grabbed the first soldier by the head and bit off his screaming face, using his huge fangs that projected down below his bottom lip.
Becaris got a good look at the monster for the first time. It was similar in build to the vorghoul that roamed the northern mountains of Lindankar, with a few exceptions: he was bigger and he had an extra head growing out of the right side of his shoulder which was much smaller than the head in the center.
The terrifying creature picked up the second swordsman and used one sharp claw to poke a hole into the top of the skull, and then Ebemoon’s head attached its lips and sucked the brain out.
Becaris averted his eyes.
Rasal held his brothers shaking shoulders as Lasar threw up in the passage.
The screams of terror from the surviving Tchulians could still be heard as they ran into the distant passages.
Ebemoon cast the lifeless shell of the Tchulian soldier to the ground and wiped his mouth with the back of its huge hand.
“Good food,” the big head stated as he turned his red eyes on the three knights. Then a struggle ensued, but Halvisun was at the top of the cycle and he quickly overcame his alter ego’s control.
The head that was Halvisun grinned at the knights. “That was Ebemoon's doing, he’s quite impressive when he fights, no?”
An hour later the three knights stood at the edge of the underground river. Ebemoon/Halvisun stood ten yards away pointing at the swiftly flowing water.
“This is where he fell in,” Halvisun explained.
“Why did G’Taklar fall in here?” Becaris asked.
“Ebemoon was in control and chasing him,” Halvisun answered casually.
“And G'Taklar was still alive?” Lasar asked.
“His head was above the water until the water went below,” Halvisun squeaked in explanation.
“Where does this river go?” Becaris asked.
“It exits the mountain near here,” Halvisun answered.
“I see, but do you know how long it would take to reach the outside if you were in the water?” Rasal asked Halvisun.
“Maybe one forth the time it took to walk here,” Halvisun answered after a moment of thought.
“We’ll just have to hope he found some air pockets along the way,” Becaris told the twins. He turned back to Halvisun. “Is there another way to get outside? Somewhere near where the water comes out?”
“Yes, I’ll take you there,” Halvisun explained and he lumbered down the path along the river heading for one of the caves that connected to the river cavern.
When they came to the place where the cave exited the mountain they could see the false dawn beginning to light the sky.
Halvisun stopped and faced the knights. “It’s time for you to keep your promise,” Halvisun squeaked.
“What are your questions?” Becaris asked.
As he had with G'Taklar, Halvisun asked simple questions about news of the world. He obviously savored the simple conversation with the knights. After a time, Ebemoon voice again started to gain control and interrupt.
“You’d best go now,” Halvisun managed and Ebemoon growled and spat at the knights, slavering and drooling while he talked of killing.
The three knights did not waste any time leaving the hulking creature to its underground caverns.
By the time the knights reached the place where the river shot out of the earth the sky had lightened to pale blue and the sun was about to peek over the top of the distant hills.
The three knights split up and started searching the edge of the river, hoping to find signs that G’Taklar had survived his impossible journey.
“Over here!” Lasar called out to the other two knights.
Becaris and Rasal quickly approached the crouched Lasar and looked at his find. Three prints from bare feet showed where someone had recently exited the muddy edge of the river.
“I estimate them to be a few days old by the drying,” Lasar guessed.
“They could be from our boy,” his brother agreed.
“Assuming they are, where do you think he would have gone from here?” Lasar asked.
“Barefoot and with no provisions?” He did not need to say anything further; they all looked back toward Headwater, the only town for many miles of vicious desert.
“But where do we start looking in town?” Lasar asked.
“It’s safe to assume he didn’t have any round metal or goods to trade so that only leaves two possibilities: he found employment or stole provisions and a horse,” Becaris guessed.
“Then we can start by checking the various stables to see if any horses have been stolen in the past few days. That would be pretty big news in a small town like this,” Rasal suggested.
“We’re going to have a hard time keeping a low profile for the same reason. Once we start asking questions it will only be a short time before soldiers get the word. They’ll make the connection with us and the three men who broke into their Keep,” Lasar added.
“Then we’ll have to be circumspect. First, only one of us will ask questions, meaning you two will hide out in the first stable we come to while I ask around. While you wait you can make yourselves useful, we need new mounts, so purchase them from the stable keeper while I’m out asking questions,” Becaris instructed.
“Won’t he spread the news about strangers buying horses?” Lasar asked.
“I didn’t say you had to let him go, tie him up and pay him for the horses, not necessarily in that order,” Becaris suggested with a grin.
“We could do that,” Rasal replied, returning the grin.
“Then let’s get on our way, things may be looking up,” Becaris hoped.
They headed on foot for the edge of town.
One league from the outskirts of Headwater a very tired Sergeant Herms toiled along the dusty path on his way to raise the alarm. He had traveled the difficult desert terrain for the latter portion of the night, taking frequent rests as his fat body gave out on strength. He cursed as he stopped once more to rest; the walk back to town had taken far longer than he had anticipated.
“At least they haven’t found their friend, G’Taklar. He’s safely tucked away where I can find him,” the sergeant thought and chuckled maliciously.
Little did he know he had passed within one league of G’Taklar back near the beginning of his trek across the rocky desert.
The twins finished tying up the stable hand and deposited him in the loft. They had just saddled three mounts when Becaris came back through the barn door.
“Let’s go, four horses have been stolen recently and a new recruit has deserted from the compound. It’s the big news around town,” Becaris told the knights.
“You’re kidding! That sly young man has been hiding out underneath their noses?” Rasal asked.
“So it would appear. They haven’t sent a search party yet because his sergeant turned up missing about the same time. Guess who that must be?” Becaris asked in return.
“None other than our recent guest Sergeant Herms?” Lasar replied, stating the obvious.
“Right, so let's pick up our supplies quickly and question the good sergeant again. He wasn’t as up front as
we had thought,” Becaris added, swinging up onto his saddled mount.
“Why the hurry?” Lasar asked.
“They have a search party ready to ride out within the bell, so I want to be on G’Taklar’s trail ahead of them,” Becaris stated and spurred his horse out the open stable door and the two brothers followed close behind.
A sixth bell later a tired Sergeant Herms staggered onto the main street of town and raised the alarm. He was soon taken to the troop that had already been assembled to follow the deserter. Sergeant Herms took charge and within a fourth bell, he led the tracking party into the desert in pursuit of G’Taklar.
CHAPTER EIGHT - RIveK
It was evening and the Bottoms Up tavern in Myrnvale was in full swing. Two gritty looking men dressed in tattered leather armor sat at a table in the back drinking mugs of ale.
The first man’s face had a diagonal scar that went across his forehead, touched the bridge of his nose and ended in his cheek while his companion was missing his two front teeth. The bartender stopped briefly at their table and quietly spoke into the ear of the man with the scar. He told him that someone wished to send a message to Wernok.
The two well-worn men were both members of the largest bandit group in the area and the man named Wernok was their leader.
The scarred man told the bartender to send the messenger to their table. He figured that if the message was for real they could deliver it, but if something was wrong they could just kill the bearer.
Both men were surprised when a good looking woman stalked up to their table, jungle purclaw grace in her fluid motions. She wore black leather armor and the trained eyes of the bandits picked out hidden knives all over her body.
“The name’s Poison,” she said in greeting, “I’m here te deliver a message.” Then she took a seat without waiting for an invitation.
“So we hear, what makes ya think we’re interested?” Toothless replied.
