Tales of the Wolf: Book 02 - Enter the Wolf

by A. E. McCullough

  Aaron grinned. “The arena will do nicely.”

  “Khlekluëllin, you were the party insulted. You shall state the conditions of the match.”

  “To first blood or surrender.”

  Nodding, the king turned to the largest of the remaining three dwarves. “Derek Ironhand, you are the captain of the guards and a member of the insulted party. Do you accept the challenge of Khlekluëllin Amarth?”

  The large dwarf nodded. “Yes my king we do.”

  “Then, you will choose the weapons for the combat.”

  Drawing his sword, the other three dwarves mirrored his action. “These will do nicely.”

  “Then, I order the four of you dismissed from all duties until this matter is settled.” Derek Ironhand was about to object when the king silenced him with a wave of his hand. “By my command, Trial by Combat will take place the day after tomorrow at dawn in the arena. Dismissed.”

  His tone held an edge showing the others and Khlekluëllin that the subject was closed. The four guards bowed their heads and answered in unison. “By your command.” The four dwarves stepped off the lift and disappeared into the busy marketplace.

  Turning to Khlekluëllin, the king’s demeanor immediately changed. Once again he was Padric, the old dwarf he had met in his room earlier.

  “Come. Let’s find Rjurik.”

  Nodding his head, Khlekluëllin joined the king as they entered the marketplace.

  As they made their way through the busy streets he took in the sights and sounds that surrounded them. There were numerous stalls of merchants hawking their wares of fresh fish, bread, pottery or weapons. Everyone bowed to the king as he walked past. He greeted many by name and returning many a wave. Once, as they passed a pottery shop, they saw two dwarven children wrestling in the doorway until they knocked over a table sending broken pottery into the street. Khlekluëllin couldn’t help but smile as the dwarven mom, grabbed each boy by the ear and dragged them back inside while cursing in dwarvish the whole way. Both Padric and Khlekluëllin had to laugh at the sight before them.

  Continuing through the throng of dwarves that filled the marketplace, Khlekluëllin ignored the numerous stares and gestures from the multitude of dwarves. It was his guess many had never seen an elf before. Finally reaching the edge of the marketplace, Padric turned down a small alleyway and stopped in front of a small shop. Khlekluëllin guessed from the sign of an anvil and hammer that it was a blacksmithy. Even though the shop looked old, far older than the other shops nearby, the rhythmic sounds of a hammer pounding on metal filled the air. A warped and sagging wooden door barred the entrance. Scribbled in bright red paint on a wooden plank that lay across the doorway were two traveler’s runes. Studying them for a moment, Khlekluëllin translated them to mean ‘Keep Out’ or ‘Stay Away.’

  Pointing toward the neglected shop, the king spoke softly. “Rjurik is in there.”

  Judging from the king’s tone, Khlekluëllin could tell something was amiss. When Padric made no attempt to enter the shop, he asked. “How long has he been in there?”

  “Since the Healers released him over a month ago.” The King scratched his beard with his right hand and nodded toward the shop. “According to my guards, he left the chambers of the healers and proceed directly here. Since then, no one has seen him. And as far as we know, he hasn’t come out nor has anyone been able to enter, including me.”

  As he looked up at the taller elf, Khlekluëllin could see the depths of concern in his eyes and heard it in his voice.

  “I was hoping there was something you could do.”

  Khlekluëllin shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure what I can do but I can try.”

  “Good! I knew you wouldn’t let me down. He’s my cousin and although we haven’t always seen eye to eye, he’s still family.”

  “I will do what I can.”

  “I know you will. But there are forces at work around us that you are unaware of and we will need Rjurik’s strength and courage if we are to be victorious. Now, I must get back to work. I have duties of state I have ignored for far too long. Let me know what you discover.”

  Turning away, he started back down the alleyway in which they came, leaving Khlekluëllin alone with only the ringing of metal on metal as his companion. Walking up to the barred door, he drew his dagger and using its handle, he rapped loudly.

  “Rjurik! Rjurik! Open up! It’s Khlekluëllin!”

  His only answer was the repetitive banging of metal on metal. For several more minutes he waited patiently. When his friend failed to emerge or to answer, Khlekluëllin knew what must be done. Deep inside he knew this is what the king had intended all along. He was sure that many of Rjurik’s friends and relatives had stopped by to pay the injured dwarf a visit. But if Rjurik, being the stubborn dwarf Khlekluëllin knew him to be, refused to answer or allow them to enter then they would have to leave with questions and concerns unanswered. For the dwarves have customs and laws that prohibit anyone, including the king, from entering another dwarf’s domicile without permission. This would restrain them from busting down the doors.

  Khlekluëllin let a slight smile play across his face as he muttered to himself. “But their laws and customs don’t apply to me and no silly barred door will stop me.”

  Without hesitation, he called forth the mantra of opening. Khlekluëllin knew it wasn’t a particularly powerful or difficult spell but in this case it should be extremely effective. Knocking lightly on the door with his right hand, he made a circular motion with his left while calling out, “Utsu Koto!”

  There was a slight rushing of wind and a loud thump as the door flew open and the bar fell to the floor. The rhythmic pounding stopped suddenly.

  Stepping into the doorway, Khlekluëllin surveyed the room. The workshop was just as he expected; dark, smoky and extremely hot. The fire that was burning red hot in the forge outlined the disfigured dwarf in a reddish glow. Bare skinned and filthy, Rjurik stood at the edge of the forge with a large hammer in his good hand and a piece of red hot metal pinned down with his left stump. The reddish light made the dwarf look extremely old and slightly mysterious as he turned toward the doorway. Khlekluëllin could see that his beard was beginning to grow back although the flickering light from the forge made his face dark and shadowy.

  Rjurik’s gruff voice barked. “Whoever dat is, be gone! I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t want your pity! Now leave me alone!”

  Without waiting for any reply from the intruder, Rjurik turned back to his work.

  Placing his hands on his hips, Khlekluëllin chuckled. “That is no way to treat an old friend.”

  Rjurik paused in mid swing and glanced back. His face seemed to soften at the sound of the elf’s melodious voice. “Khlekluëllin is dat you?”

  Laughing, the tall elf ducked his head as he stepped into the workshop. “Of course it’s me! Who else would barge right in?”

  Rjurik seemed to forget the furnace and piece of metal he was working on for a moment. Dropping everything, he rushed forward embracing his friend in a rib crushing bear hug.

  “Khlekluëllin! It’s good to see you!”

  “It’s good to be seen. I expected you to come by for a visit. When you didn’t, I decided to come find you.”

  Releasing his friend, Rjurik turned back to the furnace. “I was meaning to come by for a visit but da healers kept me in a bed for a month.”

  Looking deep into the fire, his face took on an unearthly peaceful look that the reddish light enhanced greatly and his voice became no more than a whisper. “While I was there, I received a vision from the Maker.”

  Khlekluëllin placed a gentle hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. He knew that a vision from the gods was a powerful and rare message not to be taken lightly.

  “What did Bromios show you?”

  Glancing up at his friend, Khlekluëllin saw the mixed emotions raging inside the dwarf.

  “I saw the weapon I am called to make. But I just can’t get da temperature o
f the metal right!” He raised his left stump for effect. “I’m too limited with dis.”

  Slamming his stump down on the edge of the forge, Rjurik roared. “I should be able to do dis! Bromios calls and I cannot answer him! I’m useless!”

  Shaking his head, Khlekluëllin voice was gentle. “That is not true. You are still Rjurik Silvershield, warrior of Bromios and cousin to the king of Darkmoor. All you need is help.”

  Without waiting for a response from his dwarven friend, Khlekluëllin began to strip down.

  “What do you dink you’re doing?”

  “Helping of course. You cannot complete your mission alone and I cannot allow you to fail.” Folding his clothes neatly, Khlekluëllin set them near the doorway. Turning back to his friend he clapped his hands together. “Okay, where do we start?”

  Scratching his beard with his right hand, Rjurik chuckled lightly. “I guess it would be useless to argue with you.”

  “Damned straight! Bromios once aided Aurora when she needed help. Now, it is my turn to repay a portion of her debt.”

  “Okay. You’ve made your point.” Rjurik nodded his head and gestured toward the furnace with his stump. “Man da bellows. Keep da air flow smooth and gentle.”

  Picking up the piece he was working on earlier, Rjurik grinned. He knew in his heart of hearts that with his friend’s help, he would be able to complete the mission his god had set for him.

  Chapter 14

  Hawkeye moved around the small compound restlessly.

  He wasn’t exactly sure how long it had been since the attack on Itasca but his best guess was that it had been at least a month. His first instinct after being rescued by Master Pau and Ronin was to push on but Kang’s wounds were far worse than originally thought. The gnome scout needed time to heal. Additionally, the roving patrols of gnomes which came through the area time and time again cautioned restraint. So, Hawkeye spent his time resting, training or discussing philosophy with Master Pau. He was almost content here. If Hawkeye didn’t have a wife and child on the way or the duty placed on him by his people and the gods, he would be content. But he did and he knew that he must be moving on soon.

  “You are troubled.”

  When Master Pau spoke right behind him, Hawkeye nearly jumped out of his skin. He still hadn’t figured out how someone who was blind could move so quietly and surely. Shaking his head to regain his bearings, Hawkeye answered. “Yes. There is a war going on and it’s about time I rejoined it.”

  Master Pau nodded. “I have been expecting this and I agree. It is not your destiny to stay hidden for long. Kang’s wounds are healed enough that he can travel without fear of them reopening. So, tomorrow we will accompany you to Otrar. From there you can book passage on a freighter that will take you back to the surface world.”

  “Sounds good to me but why would you be heading to Otrar?”

  As Master Pau began walking through his garden and Hawkeye fell in beside him.

  “There are many reasons but suffice to say that it is time to move. It will be good training for Ronin for one. He needs the interaction with others; after all, he is still a child. A very gifted child but a child none the less. Even though we have a nice compound here in the underworld, it is time to proceed to another area. Ronin has mastered one aspect of Ku, or the void. He can fight without the use of his eyes but I don’t want him to miss out on the simple things in life, like the sunrise or the stars twinkling in the winter sky.” Master Pau sighed. “Oh how I miss the simple things.”

  Hawkeye nodded. He too missed the simple things in life; the mournful songs of the wolf on the night air, the gentle breeze through the forest leaves, Tatianna’s crooked smile or the thrilling touch of her hand. Hawkeye shook his head to clear it of the melecholy thoughts. “You’re right. In the end, it is the little things that mean the most.”

  “In my experience, warriors tend to understand and value the little things; for when you face death on a daily basis, you learn their true importance.”

  Hawkeye gestured to the fungi forest around them. “So, you two are leaving?”

  “Yes. We will accompany you to Otrar and back to the surface lands.”

  “What can you tell me about this Otrar city? Is it safe?”

  “Otrar is a wretched hive of scum and villainy. But it is also one of the few places in the Subterrus that we won’t be arrested or killed on sight just for being human. It is considered an open city. In other words, if you have something to trade or coins to lose, you’re welcome in Otrar.”

  “Coin? I don’t have any coin. We Highlanders have no need for the currency of other realms.”

  “I have you covered,” came Kang’s voice as the gnomish scout stepped out from under the cap of a nearby mushroom.

  Hawkeye noted that his movements were still slow and stiff but he was relieved to see him up and about. “What was that?”

  “Did you forget about the loot we recovered from the girtablu…the scorpion-man? I told you that half of it was yours.”

  Hawkeye shook his head. “That is to be your chance at a life without the influence of the Dark Alliance. The gods will provide a way…of that I am sure.”

  Kang chuckled. “You really don’t know anything about the value of gold, do you?”

  Hawkeye just shook his head. “No, why?”

  “Let’s just say that there is enough gold in that backpack to not only buy you passage on a ship but to buy the ship and still have coin left over. Get my drift?”

  Hawkeye nodded slowly. “If you say so.”

  Kang clapped his hands together. “I do and I insist. Besides, I owe you.”

  Hawkeye was about to argue but two things stopped him. First, he could tell that Kang was determined not to give in. And secondly, he realized that he didn’t want to win this argument. If this was his best and fastest chance to get back to Tatianna, then he was going to take it. His heart ached at just the thought of her. “Okay…you’ve made your point. I accept.”

  Master Pau nodded. “Then it’s settled. We leave at dawn.”

  * * * * *

  Otrar was a city unlike any other throughout the Subterrus.

  Before its destruction, the gnomish city of Ibraim was the largest and most beautiful city of the entire Subterreth, with its thousand pillars, flowing arches and marble buildings. It was magnificent. Then, there is the dark elf city of Avaris. It was probably the most orderly city with its meticulously planned out streets, theathers, academies and sewers. Either would be an architect’s dream come true.

  But not Otrar… it was more of an architect’s nightmare. It was a study in chaos in action. Originally, it was just a small outpost which grew and grew. Each generation adding and expanding the city in a haphazard fashion until it nearly filled the whole cavern. Not only had they built across the cavern but they built upwards; utilizing ramps, tunnels, alleys and ladders which would twist and turn throughout the city. There was also no official ruler of the city. That meant there wasn’t any royalty to worry about, just the cartel of thieves which ruled different sections of the chaotic city.

  Darnac had always found the chaos of Otrar comforting. It was a shadow walkers dream come true. Even if every light of every hovel and every street lamp was lit, there would still be plenty of shadows and alleyways to move throughout the city undetected.

  The Blademaster strolled down one of the main causeways with an arrogant swag. Otrar was a city where perception was almost as important as truth. If he looked dangerous enough, the lesser thugs and thieves would shy away from him and he wouldn’t have to kill anyone on his first day back in the city. It had become a personal challenge to him. He had been trying to accomplish his goal for the last twenty-four years but to no avail. Someone had always challenged him or tried to mug him within the first day of entering Otrar. It was usually the young or inexperienced ruffians. He wasn’t too worried about the more veteran thieves; they would recognize him and knew his deadly reputation. Although, once or twice a veteran assassin had tri
ed to claim the bounty on his head and failed.

  Darnac could see that some of Kieran’s network of informants had recognized him from the increased activity of the runners.

  The Sultan, as Kieran liked to be called, had cultivated and organized the orphans of Otrar into a vast network of informants, spies and thieves. Most started as simple informants gaining coins and food for overheard conversations. Those that proved useful and resourceful would get the chance to spy on one of Kieran’s many rivals within the city. This would grant them more coins and better food. Soon, Kieran had another new apprentice in his ever growing guild of thieves.

  Even though Otrar didn’t have an official ruler, Kieran was the most influential and powerful guildmaster in the city. This is what led Lalith and Blackfang to him. Their alliance was simple; Kieran would supply troops from the underground and any relevant information needed for the Dark Alliance’s conquest of the lighted lands. In return, Lalith and Blackfang would see to the destruction of Otrar’s chief rival in the underground…Ibraim, the City of a Thousand Pillars.

  Blackfang and Lalith had accomplished their part with callous efficiency. They even managed to place blame on the Highlanders and the Dwarves. Both of these facts would’ve aided Kieran’s effort if he had intended to keep his end of the bargin. The Sultan had sent a token amount of troops but not the agreed upon numbers. Darnac was here to remind him of his obligation to the Dark Alliance.

  By the time the Blademaster entered Kieran’s bastion, which was deep in the lower sections of Otrar, he was expected. He would’ve preferred a more subtle entrance but since this was his first visit in many months, Lalith wanted him to be diplomatic.

  Darnac paused as he stepped into the large room. There were only three people in plain sight, Kieran and his two hulking cyclopean bodyguards but the Blademaster felt the weight of a dozen eyes watching his every move. He hated to be this exposed and his palms itched for the feel of his sabers but even the act of resting his hands on the hilts of his knives at his waist could cause an incident.