The revelation that the mentor who had helped them escape the Underllars was Umester stunned the others. To Carym it made complete sense now. The devious immortal needed some way to escape his prison. Locked away inside a magical box in the Temple of Zuhr in Lordsdeep, he set a trap and Zach fell right into it. It seemed Zach had been the right person for that job.
Ederick told Carym of his fierce battle with wasp dragon riders of the Nashian forces and the Zuharim that had been working with them. He showed Carym the magical helm that had been awarded to him by the Keneerie commander of the Nashian forces, but the knight had been too concerned about evil magic it might possess to use it. Carym, too, was surprised to learn that these Nashians seemed an honorable people. The knight continued his tale, telling of his timely arrival and destroying the remaining oroks that had come with Hessan.
Carym wondered if the Nashians might be swayed by the truth of who Umber really was.
"What do we do now? Where do we go?" asked Gennevera, leaning her head on Carym's shoulder. He was touched by how much she loved him. With a small sigh, he pushed those thoughts from his mind. He needed to keep his mind clear and focus on the problems at hand.
"I was a fool to believe in Mathonry," confided Carym. "A fool."
"Do not blame yourself Carym," said Gennevera, squeezing his hand. "You have endured more than any man should ever endure. Each of us would have likely done the same in your stead."
"You couldn't have known," added the knight. "Umester is one of the most diabolical figures in history, more so than the Dark Paladin. His powers are beyond mortal comprehension."
Carym nodded, understanding the words for the truth that they told. Yet, he felt responsible. The knight was right, though. They could accomplish nothing by bemoaning their ill luck.
"We have to find Bishop Rohan, and quickly," counseled Ederick. "A force of Jaguar Knights sent by Hala's father found us while you were in the tomb. They've driven the Nashians back, but they expect a greater force to return. There are nearly a hundred Jaguar fighters in the forest around us, if anyone or anything gets close we will know with enough time to decide whether to fight or fly."
"My cousin, Delfyd, would do great damage if he got his hands on that book, so he would," Bart said somberly. "There is little time to waste."
Hala looked at Carym and nodded, saying nothing. Carym knew the woman well enough now, had she something to say she would have. He respected the princess; her people respected her and she fought beside them, bled beside them. She was loyal to the cause thwarting Shalthazar, steadfast when so much else had been so chaotic. He smiled and nodded back at her.
"Genn, do you have any suggestions?"
"Ederick is right," she said, standing up and walking behind Carym. "We need to return to the Hand of Zuhr." Genn unstrapped the Tome from Carym's back and held it reverently before her. A tear glistened in here eye as she held it in her hands. "Do you think..." she began, glancing at Carym with eyes full of hope. Carym looked at her questioningly, waiting for her to go on but she said no more.
"Thank you, Princess Hala, for all you and your people have done. It saddens me greatly that so many have fought and died for this cause."
Hala bowed deeply, embarrassing Carym at the show of respect. She seated herself by the fire.
Carym felt warmed by the show of faith. He drew the Sword of the First Paladin and handed it, hilt first, to Ederick. "This is yours now, Sir Ederick. I was not meant to bear this burden." Carym unstrapped the shield from his pack and handed it to the knight as well. Ederick's eyes lit up, he knew exactly what these items were. He held them reverently for a long moment, then bowed low to Carym.
"Carym, it has been my honor to serve with you these long days. I was lost and likely to meet the same doomed fate my former brethren are now rushing to meet. When I met you I knew there was something special about you. I prayed for guidance and knew I was meant to stay with you. Hard as it was to give up my mission to help the fight in Al Zocar, I knew Zuhr had other plans for me."
Carym nodded, not knowing what to say. The knight was reverently holding the sword and shield; he took a few practice swings and a few shield thrusts. The blade was powerful, but the weight of its magic had bogged Carym down. He wasn't meant for such a weapon; he hoped Sir Ederick was.
"I only wish I could have been there to see the First Paladin, to meet him," Ederick said reverently, staring at the blade of the sword. "I've so many questions!"
"He was a bit pressed for time," Carym said with a grin. "He wasn't very polite either." He took a long pull from a water skin. "In the end, he proved the story of his redemption true; were it not for his aid, I would not have escaped with the Tome. He has been freed of his curse, Ederick. He is with Zuhr now." Ederick nodded, then he sheathed the sword and slung the shield over his back.
"These gifts symbolize the power of the office of the First Paladin, not unlike the crown and jewels of a king or emperor. I do not know what Zuhr intends for me to do with these, but for now I will bear them faithfully until his plans become evident."
Carym smiled and was glad to be rid of the powerful weapons. Just holding them taxed Carym's strength beyond his limits. He sat back down and stared into the fire, thinking of Zach. He had been betrayed by his best friend and deceived by the one whom he thought was his mentor. What was Zuhr trying to tell the him through all of this? "Zach," he whispered clenching his fists. "I'll kill you."
"Savor your revenge, Carym, so you should. Nurse it. But don't act upon it yet. Your time will come, as did mine with that Hellspawn, Hessan. We've bigger problems now, so we do. We must warn the free countries of what is to come. An army with Umester as its general will have ghouls, specters, wraiths and demons in its ranks. Nothing will stand against Shalthazar and the Dark Prince, not alone anyway. Our survival will depend on alliances, so it will."
Hala disappeared into the trees while the bard had been speaking, and returned moments later. "My people will know of this soon. They will dispatch runners to Myrnwell, Brythyn and Ayre."
"Perhaps the Steel Empire could be persuaded to join the fight," said the knight.
"Alfheym," said Carym. "That is where Bishop Rohan will go. That is where we shall go."
"Tomorrow," said Hala with finality. "For now, we rest."
"Alfheym," came a soft voice from the shadows. In a flash Ederick's blade was out and the shield was on his arm. Carym never saw it move from his back, it just appeared on his arm. Carym stood too, his bo-tani sticks dancing with flames as his companions spread out and prepared for a fight. Carym could sense Hala's fury, her warriors had been on guard yet an intruder was inexplicably present. Flashes of soft amber light revealed that the Jaguar warriors were also moving in, if a bit late.
"Please," came the voice. "I mean you no harm." The figure of a man in black and red clothing piped and trimmed in scarlet and silver glided from the shadows, a hood concealing his face. He wore a long sword on his hip, and a bulge in his cloak looked very much like a bow to Carym. Then the hood seemed to roll back from the man's head, all of its own accord.
"Morgon!" whispered Carym, he was truly happy to see the red-skinned elf and gave him a warm embrace. Tensions diminished and everyone lowered their weapons. Morgon was a powerful Fyrbold, one of the guardians of the knowledge of the Flame Sigils. Carym had grown to like and trust this elf, even if others found his presence disconcerting. Crimson Elves, or Fire Elves as they were sometimes called, were known to be quick tempered. Nevertheless, everything about Morgon challenged those stereotypes.
"I apologize for the dramatic entrance," he said casually. Then he dropped onto a log by the fire. "Much has happened since our time in Myrnwell.
"Did you find the Tome, Carym?" he asked calmly.
"Aye."
"Is it safe?" Carym nodded in response to the elf's question. "Good."
"Why are you here, Crimson?" asked Gennevera. "Didn't you say you had 'more urgent' matters to attend elsewhere?"
"A v
ery good question, Gennevera. I traveled to Alfheym, in earnest. I had hoped that the elves would see that Carym is the one prophesied to bring the return of the Sigils. However, in typical Elvish fashion," he growled, "my people were bogged down in debate. They could not see the forest for the trees."
"They will not help," Carym said simply.
"They would not, at first. Then I made them see reason, and at least earned safe passage for Bishop Rohan and the Hand of Zuhr."
Carym unconsciously reached toward the place where the stones were hidden. "So, you need to take the Flamestone back to Alfheym?"
"I will not take it from you, yet."
Uncomprehending eyes turned to Carym.
"You had more of those?" asked the bard in amazement.
"I charged Carym with keeping a small package for me a very long time ago, before he met any of you good people. It contains each of the Sigilstones. Truly powerful artifacts that mimic the power of the Everpool in their own individual way. The return of the Flamestone to the people of Alfheym may be what it takes to inspire them to action."
"What more would it take to move your people to fight for this cause?" asked Hala showing more emotion than Carym was used to seeing in her. "Frost Elves pillaging Alfheym?"
"Ah, Princess Hala. It does my heart good to see you again. Is your father well?" She nodded, not willing to divert from the subject. "I do not know. I hope that the king will intercede among the lords once he sees that an alliance is necessary; before war reaches our doorstep. Alas, as you are well aware, such was not always the way of my people," he finished sadly.
"But," he continued more brightly. "I can help you. We will not be easily defeated with the likes of this band!"
"I think I have had enough power, Morgon," he replied, bitterly. "I'll have no more of power or responsibility. I want only to be done with it all," he looked fondly at Gennevera. "I would like very much to go home the moment that my duties are finished."
Morgon nodded, seeing the affection in the man's eyes as he spoke of the woman who watched him. Morgon noticed her Keneerie heritage, but wisely said nothing. Keneerie were fearful of Crimson Elves, having been enslaved by them in centuries past.
"I am sure that, one day, you will be quite happily settled," offered the elf gently. "Yet, now is not the time my friend."
"What do you propose?" he asked.
"We must indeed return to Alfheym," he began as he removed a pipe from his person and lit it. "I do not know the paths we will walk next, but Zuhr has brought us together for a great purpose."
"We have the Tome, what else could there be?"
"In a short term we must attempt to rally the nations to one standard, to thwart the juggernaut that is the Nashian Army and Umester. Armies must be raised but I do not believe our own part will be played out upon the field of battle."
"It is good to have you with us, Morgon."
"Aye, so it is."
"What makes you certain our lives won't be wasted on the end of Nashian spears on the field of battle?" demanded Gennevera angrily.
"Certain?" he asked with a huff. Genn was not pleased with the elder elf's tone. "Nothing is certain, young lady. Nothing except that Umester is hunting us and he is not alone."
The next morning the companions set out towards Alfheym, deciding it would be best to lead their pursuers away from Hitchyn Itsa. The sense that pursuit was not far off settled in ominously. They felt vulnerable even though they had an escort of a hundred Jaguar Knights on foot and in the skies.
As the companions walked, a great owl glided silently through the air to land beside Princess Hala where it took human form. Her scouts reported that an enemy hunting party, riding hard, would overtake the companions very soon. They had been moving fast and hard for hours and Carym was coming to regret the time he took to rest.
"The time to run has passed," Hala said matter-of-factly. The companions moved towards a large rocky hill that offered high ground to defend and large boulders to provide cover. The terrain behind the hill would make it difficult for the enemy to flank them. "We should make our stand here."
"You say that as though it were naught but a band of second rate oroks hunting us!" said Gennevera angrily. "This is the Nashian Army. They are battle-hardened soldiers. We must flee, I tell you!"
"We have fled, Gennevera. We can flee no more," said the bard. "We are a powerful group. Three Sigilists and a hundred of the finest warriors of the Jaguar Tribes. We shall defeat them here, so we shall."
"This does seem a very defensible location," offered Morgon as he looked toward Ederick and Hala. The red elf was an imposing sight. He was tall and lean and his black cloak trimmed in red and etched with Sigils gave him a sinister look. His dark eyes seemed to see everything and the aura of power about him was palpable. Carym knew that the man was anything but sinister.
"We can defend this rock formation from the higher ground and force them to fight uphill. My Jaguar warriors can move off into the woods as a reserve to flank the enemy."
"That does sound wise, Princess," agreed Ederick, taking stock of the terrain and the likely avenues of enemy approach. "We can engage them lower on the hill and lure them up towards the crest. These boulders will make excellent kill zones for anyone in reserve."
Carym was glad to leave the tactical discussions to Ederick, Hala and Morgon and he moved closer to Genn. He took in the sight of this beautiful land with her at his side and knew there was no place on Llars he would rather be at such a pivotal moment. For good or ill, they would make their final stand here--together. He took the backpack with the Tome of Sigils from his back and handed it to Genn.
"Guard that with your life, and we will guard you. Go up to the hillcrest and fire upon anything that emerges from the tree line. Don't endanger yourself if you can avoid it, I need you to guard the Tome." He smiled at warmly at her. He didn't know why, but for some reason he felt like he could take on the world and win. Gennevera seemed more emotional the past few days, and more prone to panic. But Carym had been prone to dangerous emotional swings lately and he felt wrong to judge her. He assumed it was her concern for him and for their mission that made her overly cautious. He leaned in very close to her ear and whispered, "I love you, Gennevera." Then turned and walked to the forward edge of the boulders. Gennevera stood silently, a tear rolled down her cheek.
Carym, Bart and Morgon settled themselves in at the foot of the hill while Ederick and Hala conferred with the Jaguar Knights, assigning them to positions based on their inherent strengths. The avian knights would watch from the tall trees, ready to swoop down on unsuspecting attackers while the ground moving knights would be split, some would stay with the companions at the base of the hill and others would remain on the flanks. There was little time to spare, the scouts reported the enemy was close.
And the enemy was not what they expected.
"Frost Elves!" said Morgon suddenly. Everyone heard the Crimson Elf say those two dreaded words. That was almost enough to cause the stalwart warriors to reconsider their allies. Hala held them strong. Frost Elves were notorious as the most bloodthirsty, evil beings on Llars. Ruthless and savage in battle and sworn enemies of the Crimson Elves. There was silence among the companions, the tension was palpable. Each of them knew what it would mean to face Frost Elves.
The time dragged by slowly. Minutes seemed an eternity and everyone knew that the coming battle would be furious and deadly; they all sensed the evil approaching them. Morgon closed his eyes in concentration, then let out a slow sigh.
"Take heart, for as savage as the Frost Elves are, we are far stronger in magic than they," said the elf. "They cannot stand against our might!"
Carym was uneasy and nervous. He sensed the Shadowtides seething and gathering around their position, swirling and sniffing, doubtless taking an account of the companion's defenses. "They are scouting us with their dark magic," he said.
Sensing Carym's uneasiness, Morgon approached him. "Carym, do not fret over what you do not know.
It cannot help you. Focus on what you do know. Center your efforts around what you have learned, the Flame and Earth Sigils are your strongest disciplines. "
He nodded his head, saying nothing. It was good advice. Carym quickly gathered up a large number of fist-sized stones and staged them near his fighting position. When he gave the appropriate command in the language of the Sigils, the stones would then perform the action he required of them; he hoped. Morgon took his quiver of arrows and set them down, giving Carym a confident smile.
Carym then reached out to the Tidal forces commanded by the Earth Sigil and whispered in that secret language. A suit of shiny magical armor, jet black, coalesced around his body. Then Carym infused the armor with the power of the Flame Sigil, giving his armor the ability to react to an enemy strike with a burst of fire. Bart was a few paces away and on the other side of Carym, his staff ready. Behind Carym, and slightly higher up the slope, Ederick and Hala were ready with a bow and a quiver of arrows and Gennevera was crouching behind a rock formation near the hillcrest.
"We hold the high ground, Carym. We have the advantage!" called Ederick, this was what he lived for. Carym looked proudly at his friends. Bart, Ederick, Hala and Morgon were ready to fight. The shape-shifting Jaguar Knights were nowhere in sight, but Carym knew they were poised to strike.
"Frost Elves are after us? Shouldn't we run?" Genn called down to him urgently, her eyes watching the woods.
"They are too close now." None disagreed with Morgon's assessment other than Gennevera. "We must stand and fight." A bolt of energy streaked through the air and over the heads of everyone lower on the hill, striking the rocks near Gennevera, showering her with debris. A fragment of stone penetrated her arm, she let out a yelp of pain ducking down. Carym wanted to go to her, but he knew that he could not leave his position.
The fight was on.
A volley of arrows soared through the air and rained down upon the companions. Carym thrust one hand toward the barrage and a sheet of flame burst from his fingers, expanding rapidly, encompassing most of the missiles, turning them quickly to ash. Dark thunderclouds swirled angrily into a vicious gale controlled by Bart surging through the woods toward the as yet unseen enemy. From nowhere, a bolt of pure energy struck Carym and knocked him back against a boulder. Carym felt as though he had just fallen into an icy river and he gasped for air as though he were drowning. But the effects of the cold-infused spell were soon quenched by the power of the Flame Sigil within his own enchanted armor. In seconds the chill left him and his senses returned to normal. Pushing off the boulder he got to his feet and grasped his weapons. Then he opened his mind up to the Tides and tried to sense what was out there. As soon as he cast the spell and he could see the rivers of Tidal magic, what he saw was not all what he had expected. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and everyone around him moved as if mired in mud. Was this really happening? Or was it Carym's awareness of time that slowed?
The Tomb of the Dark Paladin Page 30
