Connell, and Casius,” she said introducing them. “This is Suni of the Anghor Shok, my employers protector.”
Suni nodded to each in turn his narrow face devoid of any emotion. “You are expected,” he said in a soft voice. Before any of them could respond he turned his back to them and disappeared once more into the shadows.
“Talkative isn’t he?” Connell quipped.
D’Yana nodded her head in agreement. “That is the most I have heard him speak at one time.” She motioned for them to dismount and led them through a narrow gap between the soaring trees.
Casius searched his memory, somewhere he had heard of the Anghor Shok. Then it came to him, “Of course!” he said aloud recalling the old poem he had read long ago.
“Of course?” Connell prodded him.
“Anghor lies far to the west beyond the great waste, a land of warrior priest. They are said to dwell in palaces of crystal and gold, their realm hidden within mountains of jade.
Connell looked skeptical, “For a man from such a wealthy land he hides his riches well.”
Casius laughed, “I did not write the poem Connell I merely read it.”
“Don’t believe everything you read Casius,” Connell answered. “Bards have a well earned reputation for embellishing the truth.”
D’Yana laughed, “Heed his advice Casius, if anyone among us understands reputations it would be your roguish companion, the Eagle of Kesh indeed.”
“Some of its true,” Connell said defensively. “In part anyways.”
Casius smiled at their banter.
They entered a small clearing, created when one of the giants had fallen. Through the ragged opening in the canopy high above them they could see dark clouds scudding across a steel gray sky.
Two hobbled horses nosed through the undergrowth for tender shoots within the shelter of the fallen giant’s trunk.
Suni stood talking to a tall dark haired man beneath the branches of a young sapling scarcely ten feet in height. He faced them as they entered the clearing his eyes shined brightly in the gloom.
“Welcome,” he said in a soothing voice. “I take it you have at last found your elusive quarry D’Yana?”
D’Yana inclined her head slightly in greeting, “Marcos this is Connell,” She said motioning to him with her right hand. “He insisted that his companion Casius come along.”
Marcos shrugged as if it was of no importance. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” He said turning his attention back to the young tree. He sang a soft wordless song for a few moments while watching the foliage of the sapling sway in the breeze.
“It is a sad time,” he said to his audience. “The trees are silent now, the old no longer teach the young how to speak. Once long ago their songs filled this wood with wisdom” Marcos laid his hand softly on the sapling’s bole. “A strange darkness has fallen over this wood. A wound to its very heart has taken away much of its strength.”
Casius shook his head, had this man lost his mind? Trees singing indeed!
“This forest has always been dark,” Connell countered.
Marcos lowered his hand and looked upon Connell a strange sadness in his gaze. “It has not always been so,” he said. “This is an old wood, it has stood proudly for ages beyond reckoning. Back in its youth it was many times its present size, sheltering much of this land beneath its verdant boughs.
“Men once lived here, wise and powerful. They dwelt in harmony with the wood. Then an ancient evil grew in power and corrupted their hearts. No longer were they content to live in fellowship. They grew ambitious and sought dominion over the forest. With axe and fire they strove to conquer, until the forest could no longer see any good left in the hearts of man. In those dark days its spirit awakened and in its wrath destroyed them, casting down the lofty towers and homes of those prideful people. The few remaining survivors fled to the mountains. Their golden age destroyed by their arrogance and greed.
“You are tolerated now for my sake, do nothing to give the forest cause to destroy you,” Marcos warned. “I can barely make myself heard through its pain and if truly angered I fear I could do nothing to protect you.”
Connell looked at him as if he were mad, “You speak with trees?”
“It is a gift that at one time was shared by men,” Marcos answered ignoring the look Connell gave him. “Before the breaking, the blood of man was strong in the ways of this world.” He paused in thought, “Perhaps there are a few yet who know the secrets. The blood of old is yet prevailing in the men of Ril’Gambor.” Marcos stopped speaking for a moment his eyes grew distant. “You’ve been here before Connell,” he announced. “This wood knows you.”
Casius gasped in amazement. “He can speak with the trees.”
“Easy Casius,” Connell said, shaking his head at his friend’s gullibility. “Many men know of my passage.”
Marcos smiled, “Your caution and skepticism is worthy a man twice your years.”
“Gray hair and a crooked back does not a wise man make.” Connell said quoting a favorite saying of his father. “Many a fool has been led to disaster following the words of a mad man.”
Marcos laughed and the color of his eyes began to shift from violet to deep blue. “Am I a senile dotard then?” he asked.
Connell took a step back; the man’s eyes surprised him. He had only heard of their like once. Told to him by his grandsire long ago.
“The colors of the sky danced across their wizened orbs and the fires of knowledge burned upon their brows.” His grandfather had read from an inscription found on a slab of stone near his home in Kesh. It was part of the ruins of an ancient monument dedicated to the fabled Tal’shear.
“You think I’m quite mad don’t you?” Marcos asked Connell.
“Eccentric perhaps,” Connell answered looking away from his disturbing eyes. “I promised D’Yana that I would hear you out,” Connell said with a slight shrug. “I make no promises beyond that.”
Marcos nods his head understanding this mans reluctance. “Very well, I have need of your sword arm, Connell. Four long years we have searched for you, time which I did not have too spare.”
Connell looked to D’Yana, “Four years?”
“I have been in Marcos’s employ for two of them.” D’Yana answered somewhat defensively. “ As I have said, you are not an easy man to find.”
“Your prowess with the blade is said to be unsurpassed.”
“There are plenty of men who are known for their skill.” Connell countered. “More than a few of them are willing to sell their arms and are easier to find.”
“They are men of questionable character, Connell. I need a man of integrity as well.”
“What is it you wish me to do?” Connell asked. “I am no assassin, and I will not fight a duel in your stead to protect your honor.”
Marcos laughed, “Nothing so mundane. I seek a talisman, an object lost in antiquity. I need your services to help me in its recovery.”
“D’Yana is a fair enough guide, she could lead you as well as I.”
“D’Yana has never ventured beyond Lakarra.” Marcos pointed at Connell. “You have traveled far and know the lands of the north.
“It must be you Connell, for what I seek only a skilled swordsman of honorable character can lay claim to it.”
“Are you so certain of my character?”
“You have a reputation for standing against tyranny and defending those who cannot defend themselves,” Marcos replied looking at Casius. “Did you not lead the ill fated rebellion?”
“Aye,” Connell nodded. “I swore an oath that never again would I allow my name to become a call to arms. Too many good men, men far better than myself died that day.”
“Many more good men are about to die Connell, should I fail to recover what was lost long ago,” Marcos said ominously. “A darkness is gathering in the west, an ancient evil that stands poised to strike into the very heart of the eastern lands. For three millennia it has worked its foul craft in th
e shadows. Growing stronger until it has become powerful enough to leave the darkness that has sheltered it for so long.
“No longer is it content to lurk in the shadows gnawing on its own ambitions. It has grown powerful and in its might it will throw down all that remains of the old world and spread its malignant shadow over all the lands.” Marcos looked into Connell’s eyes, his color shifting gaze holding the warriors without flinching. “You have felt its touch, even here in Lakarra it has gained much influence. Through its dark agents it prepares the way for its final conquest.”
Connell could not look away, the man’s eyes bored through him seeking to touch his very soul. He could not argue the point, for he had noticed the changes that were taking place. Men had become fouler, quick to anger and even quicker to kill. It seemed that good honest folk were becoming harder to find.
“You seek sanctuary in the north,” Marcos continued looking briefly at Casius thus releasing his hold on Connell. “You will find only death. The price put upon your heads is far greater than you can imagine. Brothers would turn against one another for a chance at such wealth.”
Connell’s brow furrowed in consternation, he knew Marcos spoke truly. If the bounty on them were high enough there would be no safe haven for them.
“It appears that we may have little choice Casius,” Connell said after a moments thought. “We may have to leave Lakarra altogether.”
Casius nodded, he had grown weary of the life that Connell led and did not relish the thought of being on the run for the rest of his days.
“I tire of playing the outlaw.” As he spoke he noticed the look of satisfaction on Marcos’s face. “This does not mean that I will blindly follow you on your quest,” he added.
Marcos held up his hand in a placating gesture. “Of course, will you at least join us on the first leg of our journey?”
Connell turned to Casius, “This choice I will not make for you. Do we go or take our own road wherever it may lead us?”
“I would go with Marcos,” Casius said without hesitation. “There is safety in numbers. Moreover the Senatum are searching for two, not five travelers.”
“It looks as if we are to accompany you at least part of the way,” Connell informed Marcos.
“That will have to do for now,” Marcos said, looking somewhat disappointed. He had hoped for a commitment from them.
Suni drew his staves from his belt in a rapid motion that caught everyone’s attention. “We are not alone,” he said flatly his dark eyes fixed to the south. “They have been followed.”
Connell drew his long sword and motioned for Casius to do the same. “If we have been trailed then someone has gone through great hardship to do so.”
Marcos raised his hand motioning everyone to be silent. From the shadows they could hear the faint rustling of the undergrowth.
A dark hunched form emerged from behind the roots of a nearby tree. It stopped, freezing in place knowing that it had been seen.
Casius’s heart was hammering in his chest; he recognized the way the thing moved. The twin burning lights of its eyes confirmed his suspicions. It was the companion of the creature he had slain outside of Haven.
Before anyone could react the beast leapt out of the shadows with amazing speed. It ran upright its large sickle shaped claws held out at its sides. Charging straight for Casius it roared in anger and defiance. Smoke streamed from its shoulders as the dim light of the obscured sun struck its knobby hide.
Marcos waved his right hand and the ring upon his finger burned with an intense argent light.
Small Vines thrust up from the moist earth wrapping about the loping creatures legs. It staggered and with a sweep of its claws clove the impeding vines. Before it could resume its charge more vines wrapped about it. Lightning swift they burst from the soil, growing thicker they completely enshrouded the beast and pulled it violently to the ground. The mound of knotted stems writhed as the creature trapped within fought violently to be free.
Suni stepped forward his staves held protectively before him.
“Stop,” Marcos ordered his tone halting Suni’s advance. “It is a Naz’Haruk, one of Sur’kar’s more dangerous creations.”
Casius let his sword tip touch the ground. The weapon all but forgotten in his shock at having seen what Marcos had just done. “Are you a Warlock?” he asked carefully, if he was one he did not wish to draw his ire.
Marcos kept his eyes on the writhing bundle, “No Casius I am not,” he answered.
Connell took a step away from Marcos, keeping his sword in hand. “An enchanter then?” Connell pressed.
Marcos shook his head, “I am not known by the titles of man.”
The bundle thrashed violently, the trapped creature within released a howl that echoed in the wood.
“Kill it!” Connell demanded. He did not know if it traveled alone or with others. But with the noise it was making if it had companions they would be sure to find them.
“I will not become that which I strive against.” He lowered his hand the argent gleam fading away as roots from the trees roiled up out of the ground. They ensnared the bundle and drug it down into the dark earth. “Let the forest have its due, the kin of this creature have done much damage here and the trees crave revenge.”
“Then how did it come so far?” D’Yana asked once she had recovered from her shock.
“The forest is gravely wounded, its spirit is dying,” Marcos answered, while he swung up into the saddle of his mount. “I have awakened only a small part of the wood. It is beyond my power to revive the entire forest.”
Suni cocked his head to one side, “I hear the calls of hunters,” He said softly, his eyes closed as he strained to hear. “Three…no four brass horns.”
Marcos nodded, “As I feared, the calls of the Naz’Haruk have drawn the attention of Sur’kar’s minions.” He motioned for the others to mount up. “We must make all haste away from this place.”
“Why run?” Casius asked. “You can use your power to stop them.”
“The Phay’ge is not to be used lightly. What I have already done has placed us in grave danger. There are stronger and deadlier enemies that are drawn to such power as a moth is to a flame.”
Casius looked to Connell and then they too heard the thin high note of a horn in the distance. Needing no further urging they mounted their steeds and followed Marcos as he led them racing off to the northwest.
They wove through the trees for several hours until the sounds of the hunters could no longer be heard. The sun had set and the gloom of the forest darkened until the world had become nothing more than a land of deep grays and blackness.
Taking shelter within a hollow between two of the towering giants they set up a cold camp. It was uncomfortable and cramped but it was as safe a place as any to wait the dawn.
As the darkness became nearly complete Suni left their shelter and disappeared into the night.
Connell searched the darkness with his eyes but he could see no sign of him. He admired the man’s skill; he was a master at stealth. He nodded to Marcos as the man came to stand next to him.
“My words are true.” Marcos said. He knew this man had many questions and now was the time for a few answers. “There is an ancient evil stirring Connell, the doom of man draws nigh. The object I seek is the only hope, a weapon forged long ago with the strength to thwart Sur’kar’s might.
I seek Aethir, the sword forged by Ma’Rail, the greatest of the Tal’shear smiths to walk this earth. It was lost three thousand years ago when the world was reeling from the breaking.
Before he died Thoron’Gil carried it to a distant land and it rests there in his tomb hidden from the eyes of the world.”
“And you know where this tomb is?” Connell asked, this man really did believe in those old legends and myths. Connell was trying to decide if he posed a danger, he was either a Warlock or an Enchanter of some power. Enchanters by their very nature are recluses and seldom interfere with the affairs of men. W
arlocks on the other hand are ruthless men who care for nothing but their own ambitions. The expansion of their power and knowledge is the sole driving force behind their evil.
Connell doubted that Marcos was a Warlock, Suni did not have the look of a bonded man, and he had shown no ill effects from Marcos’s earlier use of power. Marcos may be an enchanter but one who has lost some measure of his sanity, and that alone may make him very dangerous indeed.
“I was there when the blade was cast, a small part of me lies within it. I know roughly where it is hidden and as I draw closer its whereabouts will become clearer to me.”
“I am having a hard time taking you seriously,” Connell said softly, looking directly into the man’s disturbing eyes. “There are many things about you that defy explanation. But do you really expect me to believe that you are three thousand years old?”
Marcos’s eyes flashed brightly in the darkness. Whether it was out of anger or amusement Connell could not tell.
“You are a straight to the point man,” Marcos said with a smile. “Actually I am far older than that Connell. I was born upon the great ship Tel’Ganduil as she sailed the Darkling Sea that lies beyond this world. I am the last of the Tal’shear warders. I chose to remain after my people had returned to the great void between the stars, to guard against the return of Sur’kar.”
Connell shook his head in amazement at this mans audacity. “You speak of legends, created by primitive people to explain that which they could not understand.”
Marcos let out a long sigh of exasperation. “Has the race of man fallen so far that he has forgotten the greatness of his forefathers?”
“Perhaps,” Connell answered. “If you are who you claim to be, can you not simply destroy this Sur’kar?”
Marcos looked over his shoulder he could see that Casius and D’yana had both fallen asleep. “Even at the height of my power I was no match for him. He was beyond the combined strength of the eight Warders who opposed him.
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