Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf)

by A. E. McCullough

  Derek burst into the unfinished throne room unannounced. “My king!”

  Midach Bonecrusher looked up from the construction plans and waved away the engineers the moment he recognized his visitor. “Derek Ironhand! By the black beard of Bromios what urgent business has pulled you away from Crannog?”

  Derek dropped to one knee and forced himself to take several deep breaths. “The Dark Alliance is on the move. By all accounts from the Highlander scouts, this force is far larger than the last invasion force.”

  Midach nodded and waved his old friend up. Pulling out a map of Terreth he said, “Come. Tell me every detail you can remember.”

  Derek Ironhand talked for hours while Midach made many notes. Finally the young king spoke.

  “Close the port. From this moment on, search every ship arriving no matter how small. Every fishing vessel must have a military escort and the number of our patrol ships doubled. Pull the construction crews from every non-military project and redouble the workers on the fortress.”

  Derek looked up at his king. “Can we not alert our allies?”

  “Nay, I will not risk a single warship.”

  “But sire, the humans need to know.”

  “They will learn soon enough.”

  “But sire…”

  Midach slowly shook his head. “Derek, I empathize with your request but honestly, if the Dark Alliance attacked Ozymandias, we would be hard pressed to defend it. Our fortifications are far from complete and our stores are vastly depleted.”

  Derek nodded. “Aye sire, I understand.”

  Midach placed one hand on his friend and oldest advisor. “Know this, I will rest more comfortably knowing that you are here.”

  “Thank you sire, I will do my best.”

  Midach turned back to the task at hand and added, “That is all the Gods can ask of us.”

  * * * * *

  Darnac awakened to someone forcing water from a flask passed his sunburned lips and into his parched throat. The Blademaster held the cool water in his mouth for a few moments and slowly drank small portions of it. While he was doing that, his unseen benefactor was rubbing some foul smelling ointment all over his face. If Darnac had to guess, it smelled like fermented pig urine but he wasn’t sure. The one thing he was sure was the fact that after the initial sting as it was applied, it seemed to have a cooling effect on his skin.

  Darnac licked his lips and tried to speak. “Thanks, whoever you are.”

  “Shh,” came a harsh guttural voice in his ear. “Blackfang has guards all over the place.”

  Darnac blinked and tried to focus on his benefactor. He could tell that it was nearly dawn from the lightening of the sky but he’d lost count at the days. “Who…who are you.”

  The wereboar shifted positions until his boarish head was directly in front of the dark elf. “I am Odovacar.”

  “Why? Why would you help me?”

  Odovacar fed him a few pieces of waybread. “Hawkeye always spoke highly of you.”

  Darnac chewed the salty rations greedily. “I remember him. It was a sad day when he fell.”

  Odovacar nodded and his eyes filled with tears at the memory. He poured more water into the dark elf’s mouth. “Know this, Blackfang doesn’t want you. Well, that is not true…he wants you dead but not before Lalith arrives.”

  “She will not come.”

  “For your sake, I hope that you are wrong.” Odovacar bolted upright and sniffed the air. “Shh…company. I’ll return when it’s safe.”

  Without another word, the hulking wereboar disappeared into the early morning mists that covered the valley. It wasn’t long before Darnac heard the sounds of approaching troops. He could tell they were orcs long before he saw them since their stench filled the valley.

  Moments later, Blackfang stepped out of the cave that was hidden underneath the dragon skull. “Skullcrusher, you are late. That is not a good sign.”

  The black skinned orc stepped forward and into Darnac’s line of sight. He was a big bastard. Dressed in furs, the orc carried a huge club and shield. “Blackfang, we had to take the long way around. The elf arrived on the back of a black dragon.”

  That got Blackfang’s attention. “Really? Mortharona and Astaroth? Together? Lalith must be more worried about her troops than I thought.” The werewolf pulled out a flask and handed it to the orc chieftain. “How many did you bring with you?”

  Skullcrusher took a long swig before passing it back. “Two cohorts. I had several others ready to come with us but the arrival of the dragon and the elf caused them to change their minds. They would rather serve an elf than wage war. They are weaklings.”

  Blackfang was disappointed at the low numbers of troops but tried to not let it show. It was not too long ago that he would have reached out and throttled the black-skinned orc just for being late. However, between the bracers given to him by Kâlikâ and the swords he had liberated from Darnac, Blackfang was thinking clearly and tactically. As much as he hated orcs, he needed them if he was going to take over the Dark Alliance.

  “That is fine Skullcrusher, if they don’t want to join in our glory then they can perish by it. Have your troops get some rest. We march on Krantos in two days.”

  The orc chieftain beamed at the thought of the impending slaughter. “As you command Wolflord.”

  The scarred werewolf loved hearing that title once more and returned to his stronghold. With the additional thousand soldiers the orc chieftain had brought with him, Blackfang now had enough men to begin his own campaign of terror.

  Chapter 42

  With the rising of the morning sun, Lalith reentered her son’s bedchambers. All three of the slave girls were still in bed and fast asleep. Judging from the bruising on their wrists, it seems that Galvorn had a bit of darkness inside him after all. Lalith lifted the covers off of Galvorn and gazed once more on his naked form. Feeling her lust beginning to grow once more, she dropped the covers and nudged her son.

  “Blademaster, I have need of your swords.”

  Galvorn’s eyes flew open and he leapt to his feet, knocking aside the slave girls. He ignored their whines as he knelt before his mother. “My apologies Dark Lady. It seems I over indulged myself last night and overslept.”

  Lalith giggled. It was a wholesome sound. “Do not worry yourself about it. It was a celebratory night and if matters were not dire, I would allow you to slumber longer.”

  “Command me.”

  “Not her, not now. Make yourself presentable and join me on the balcony.” Lalith turned and walked out of the room.

  Galvorn watched her depart and couldn’t help but admire the sensual way she moved. Turning his attention to the slave girls, he felt his lust growing once more. Grabbing the brunette closest to him, he dragged her into the bath with him. Pushing her head downward, he commanded, “Take care of me.”

  “Yes m’lord.”

  Galvorn only had to glance at the other two girls to find that they too were busy. One of them climbed in the bath behind him and began scrubbing him clean. The other quickly made the bed and set out his clothes.

  Galvorn smiled. “I could get used to this.”

  * * * * *

  A short time later Galvorn joined his mother on the balcony. It was a beautiful morning. The wind was light and seagulls danced in the sky.

  Dressed in a flimsy and revealing white dress, Lalith put down her teacup as her son came into view. “Wow! Would you look at you?”

  Galvorn stopped and spun around slowly. He was dressed in the finest chainmail ever made by the dark elves. It was as flexible as silk but as strong as thrice-forged steel and was stained black to match his woven leather pants and boots. On his hips were his newly acquired tulwars and strapped across his chest was his ever present sicáe.

  “Many thanks mother for this fine outfit. This armor is superb.”

  “I couldn’t let my son walk around looking like a bum, you’re a Blademaster now. You must look the part. The only thing missing is a clo
ak.”

  Galvorn nodded. “Yes, my old one seems to have been ruined in my duel with Zivën. I will have to pick one up.”

  Lalith clapped her hands twice and a slave rushed forward with a bundle of black cloth. “No need, I have already acquired you one.”

  Galvorn accepted the gift with a nod of his head and shook the cloak out. It was magnificent.

  Lalith smiled as he draped it over his shoulders. “It is woven from the spidersilk. It will enhance your ability to hide from the eyes of your enemies since it blocks all forms of darkvision and you will find that even though it is thin and light, it is extremely durable.”

  Galvorn nodded and bowed. “Once again, thank you.”

  Lalith smiled and gestured to the opposing chair. Slaves rushed forward to bring him breakfast as he sat down. She did not speak as he tore into his fare. Judging from his haste, it seemed that he was famished after last night’s romp. When he finally slowed down Lalith said, “I have a mission for you.”

  Galvorn wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, “Command me.”

  “I sent your teacher to the Highlands to investigate some rumors and problems I’ve had up in that region prior to our next invasion. He has gone missing.”

  Galvorn dropped his napkin and sat back in his chair. “And you want me to find him?”

  “Yes and no.”

  Galvorn cocked his head to the side in confusion.

  Lalith turned her head to the side. “Jinx?” The gargoyle flew up and landed on the table between them. “He has an idea where Darnac might be found but you will not like it.”

  Galvorn eyed the miniature demon with suspicion. “And how would he know where my Kënnári is?”

  Lalith waved a dismissive hand at the gargoyle. “Jinx has connections in other planes that feeds him all sorts of information.” Galvorn fixed his azure eyes on the gargoyle and stared. However, it didn’t seemed to faze the demon since Jinx returned the gaze and even smiled. Before the young Blademaster could say anything else, Lalith continued. “According to Jinx’s informants, Darnac has been captured by Blackfang.”

  Galvorn swallowed heavily. “And you want me to rescue him from under the watchful eyes of Blackfang?”

  Lalith grinned but this time there wasn’t any warmth in it. “No, I want you to kill your father.” She paused before adding, “And then, if you so desire it, you can rescue Darnac.”

  Galvorn took a deep breath and stood up slowly. “Your words, my actions. I will depart immediately.” With a simple nod of his head, the young Blademaster turned and left the balcony.

  * * * * *

  Jinx watched the young half-dark elf depart and grinned.

  The torment Galvorn must be feeling at this very moment was intoxicating. There were only a few moments over the last millennia that were as enjoyable as this one. He had manipulated Lalith into sending her only son to assassinate his own father. Oh, his mother would be so proud of him right now.

  Jinx realized that Lalith had asked him a question but he hadn’t been listening. “I’m sorry mistress, what was that? I was communing with one of my contacts and didn’t hear you.”

  Lalith frowned. “Does he have a chance?”

  “All mortals have a chance. If you threw your knife over the balcony, what would be the chance that it would strike the seagull that defecated on the table this morning?”

  “Not much of one.”

  The gargoyle nodded and absentmindedly flapped his bat-like wings. “True but there is still a possibility of it, no matter how slim. That is the chance that Galvorn has to succeed in this mission.”

  “Then you think I shouldn’t send him?”

  “You could send a legion of your finest soldiers and they would have about the same chance. The difference is that Galvorn is unique.”

  Lalith set down her crystal glass of wine and furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

  Jinx rolled his eyes. “Galvorn is both Sicárii and Blademaster. That gives him a singular set of skills that separates him from anyone else, including Darnac.” The diminutive demon shrugged. “Granted, he is still wet behind the ears but his potential is unmatched.”

  Lalith nodded. “You are right. Although, he does have a bit of darkness in his soul. I saw the inclinations of it last night in the manner of how he treated the slave girls.”

  Jinx’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Really? How exciting.”

  “Now if only we could find a way to bring it to the forefront.”

  “If he kills Blackfang or fails to save Darnac, I believe that either one of them will push him over the edge. That, or break him. Only time will tell.”

  Lalith nodded. “The metal that passes through the hottest fire makes the finest blades.”

  * * * * *

  It took every ounce of self-control that Galvorn had to walk out calmly.

  He thought that resisting his mother’s sexual advances had been tough but now he had been ordered to kill his father. Granted, Blackfang had never been the fatherly type but he was still his father. Of course, if Darnac was truly in trouble then Galvorn knew he would not hesitate to kill his captors, even if it was Blackfang.

  * * * * *

  It was midmorning by the time Gray, Chikk and Tamina made it to the Scriptorium.

  There had been several logistical problems Gray had to work out before they departed but once he had explained everything to Falcon, the former noble had stepped up and taken command. Gray was surprised to see over two dozen people in line at the portal. Typically, there wasn’t more than three or four people waiting to use the gates at any given time. They hopped into the back of the line content to wait. Even as Chikk and Tamina fell into the age-old habit of small talk, Gray silently waited and watched. He always found it amazing how much you could learn about someone by watching their body language and of course, eavesdropping on their conversations.

  At first, there was nothing interesting to learn but piece by piece, Gray was able to figure out why the line was so backed up. Evidently, a few hours past dawn, a dark warrior had shown up and cut to the front of the line. When one of the Vigil had stepped in and voiced his complaint, the newcomer killed him with a single slice of his sword.

  Gray could not help but feel a deep pang in his guts and prayed to the Gods that his hunch was wrong.

  Without a word to the women, he stepped out of line and made a beeline for the gnomish engineer. Even from a distance, he noticed two things that were out of place about the old gnome; he was unusually pale and sweating profusely.

  Bathath saw him coming and stepped away from the controls. “Stop him, I could not.”

  The eccentric gnome’s speech patterns were odd but the common tongue of Terreth was not his native language. From what Gray had been able to learn about gnomish, this was their normal pattern for sentences. It was odd for the Weaponsmaster but he had dealt with Bathath many times over the years and had learned to compensate for it.

  “What happened?”

  “Unrelenting Shadow was, send to Ebonhold he command.”

  Gray ignored the dirty looks from the others in line. “When? How long ago?”

  “When Hyperion breeched the horizon, the Shadow was in transit.”

  “I need you to send us there, immediately.”

  Bathath cocked his head to the side. “Us? Problematic a group transport is.”

  “I know but Galvorn is in danger and he needs us, whether he knows that or not.”

  Bathath was about to say something else when a hulking member of the Vigil stepped forward and poked his finger into the Lüdüs Weaponsmaster’s chest. “What makes you think you can jump the line little man?”

  Out of the corner of his eyes, Gray saw that his companions had stepped out of line to watch the events unfold and woe to anyone who jumped in to help the burly warrior.

  Gray spoke softly and slowly as if he was explaining the secrets of the universe to a toddler and held up his fingers to make his point. “One, we are not in the Basti
on. You do not hold dominion here and the Dôminus is not around to hold us in check. Two, I am Sicárii. I go where and when I please for that is the will of the Dark Lady. If you have a problem with that, contact her. Three, I am the Lüdüs Weaponsmaster. I do not answer to the likes of you.”

  Gray grinned and stepped closer to the towering warrior. “But mostly, if you do not step back and mind your own business you will be explaining yourself to Gaul, for it will be my greatest pleasure to arrange a meeting.”

  The Vigil warrior did not know what to think. He was over a head taller than the dark cowled half-breed but his size hadn’t phased him. In fact, he had a hard time not stepping back when the assassin had moved in close. He gazed down into the storm-grey eyes of the weaponsmaster and saw his death reflected there. Taking a step back, he raised both hands. “Sorry sir, I did not realize who you were.”

  Gray nodded and turned his attention back to the engineer. “We need to reach the Shadow before sundown.”

  Bathath wiped his hairless noggin with an already dirty towel. “All stored energy such transport will take. Offline, Scriptorium will be for some time. No recall will be possible.”

  “That is fine. We will accomplish our mission and can walk back or we are dead. Either way, returning home is not my primary concern right now. Reaching Galvorn in time is. Can you do it?”

  Bathath nodded and rushed the small group forward to stand on the raised platform. “When the portal stops, follow the grey line. Do not stray. Do not tarry. Luck you shall have and need.”

  Gray nodded. “Many thanks my friend. I am sorry for the inconvenience that this will cause.”

  The engineer smiled. “Home early I shall go. With it assistants shall deal.”

  Gray, Tamina and Chikk smiled and held their breath. Of the three, only Gray had the slightest inclination of what they were about to experience.

  Bathath yelled a few times in his native tongue and his assistants ran all about the machine flipping switches. Slowly, the heat inside the Scriptorium increased until it was almost unbearable. In a brilliant flash of heat and light, the portal opened and they were gone.