The Shrine of Kallen (The Tales of Zanoth Book 3)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  “They just about have to be,” Darek chuckled.

  “Which is why,” Myra continued, “the undead lords destroy every wanderer they find. A single roaming specter can kill an entire village in a single night without anyone even waking up to scream.”

  “Wanderers? Is that what they're called.”

  “It is,” she replied. “Most incorporeal undead remain near a location that is – or was – significant to them for some reason. Wraiths are the souls of individuals who have made a pact with the hells, and bound themselves to Zanoth using rituals of dark power. They're usually found near their former seats of power, or where their body was buried, or, in some cases, where their body was lost.”

  “Like the wraiths in the tomb of King Paffek?” Paul speculated.

  “Yes,” Myra nodded. “However, those particular wraiths were waiting for a sacrifice. The tomb didn't necessarily have any other significance to them.”

  “What about Cal Morrin?” Joey asked.

  “He was cursed; trapped in Zanoth, his soul enveloped in dark power, his mind in madness. So, he became Kalmock Tal.”

  “Makes sense, I guess.”

  “Specters,” she continued, “are the spirits of those slain by certain kinds of undead. They're almost always completely insane and have no clear idea that they're dead. They long to touch the warmth of life again. As a result, they kill living creatures without even realizing what they're doing. Which is why some of our horses ended up dead. They tend to stay near graves, crypts, or tombs. It's as if they know they belong there, but they don't know why.

  “Shadows and shades are almost like lesser-wraiths. They're often souls dragged back to Zanoth to serve some undead spell-caster, including magic-wielding wraiths. They're not particularly powerful, tend to stay near those that called them from the grave – or near the area where they were summoned, and they hate all light. So, a fire is normally more than enough to keep them away from a camp.”

  “Which is why we can be certain Grathis was behind this attack,” Alena asserted.

  “I'm not sure about that,” Myra said, shaking her head. “It would take a great deal of power to control a force that size. I don't believe Grathis could have sent them after us. Unless there's a large group of undead priests or magic-users nearby.”

  “There could be,” the ogress pointed out.

  “Maybe,” Paul replied, a definite lack of conviction in his voice, “but, I think I recognized one of the wraiths.”

  “You did?” Myra asked.

  “I think so,” he nodded. “The first time I saw him was in Paffek's tomb.”

  “What does he look like?”

  Paul quickly described the apparition – including his sword and use of dark power.

  “That's very odd,” she asserted. “And, somewhat disconcerting.”

  “Somewhat,” the paladin agreed.

  “Here's a question,” Joey interjected. “Why doesn't Paul permanently sanctify every campsite we stop at? That way, if we – or anyone else for that matter – ended up back in the place, a safe camp would be waiting.”

  “That would take a lot of silver,” Darek observed with a smile.

  “Can you think of a better use for it?” Joey asked.

  “There probably isn't one,” Alena replied, “but, it would be wasted in the long run.”

  “Why?”

  “The undead would corrupt every blessed area they came across.”

  “How?” Joey said with a shrug. “Have undead priests sprinkle unholy water all over the place?”

  “That's one way,” Myra nodded.

  “I thought I was joking,” the wizard observed aloud.

  “Another would be performing a human sacrifice at the location,” she continued. “Some undead spell-casters can also do it. Or, if they happen to have a varrool with them...”

  “Varrool?”

  “Genuine abominations,” Sarrac replied. “Partially physical, partially incorporeal. They're bodies are composed of the ashes of the innocents they sacrificed to the gods of darkness during their lifetimes. They are beings of unliving corruption.”

  “When one encounters sanctified ground,” Alena said, picking up the narrative, “they always do their best to defile it. Because they have a physical form, they can enter hallowed places. Because they're basically walking sacrifices of evil, they can destroy them.”

  “Are those things common?” Joey asked with a tone of concern.

  “Not common,” Nyssa assured him.

  “Or rare,” Alena un-assured him.

  “A lot of undead lords have varrool in their service,” Myra replied.

  “Does Grathis?” Paul asked.

  “Not that I'm aware of,” the fair maiden replied, “but, I don't know the full extent of his forces, of course.”

  “Occasionally,” Sarrac said thoughtfully, “a varrool will attach itself to a particularly powerful wraith.”

  “What makes you bring that up?” Joey asked.

  “I'm just thinking,” the ogre replied. “If the creature Paul saw tonight really was from Paffek's tomb...”

  “He might be running around with a varrool?”

  “It's possible.”

  “Of course, it is!” Nyssa giggled. “Almost anything is possible. Which reminds me; I wonder how big it is.”

  “How big what is?” Joey made the mistake of asking.

  “The thing!” she explained.

  “Oh, right...”

  For several more minutes, the party sat beside the fire, discussing and re-discussing a variety of topics. With the first rays of dawn, they got the men moving. It took the band nearly two hours to track down all the horses they could find. Eight had been killed in the attack, eleven more had simply disappeared into the wilderness. Fortunately, they had brought enough animals with them that this wasn't a major catastrophe. Recovering their beasts also didn't cost them so much time as to prevent them from reaching the former tomb of Kalmock Tal before the sun set. Provided, of course, that they hurried.

  Chapter 5: Safe & Sound

  “Do you think they're following us?” Joey asked, turning his eyes to the paladin.

  “That hoard of undead?” Paul replied, shrugging his shoulders. “How would I know?”

  “We'd better act as if they are,” Darek asserted.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Once we reach the tomb, you should sanctify the camp,” Darek explained. “Most of the men can sleep inside, but there's no way we're going to be able to fit all of these horses inside. The last thing we want is to have all of our mounts slaughtered.”

  “That's a good point,” the paladin said with a nod. “I should probably sanctify each of our camps on the way back. We can't afford to be caught off guard like that a second time.”

  “No,” Alena agreed. “We can't.”

  “If sunlight kills them,” Joey mused, “where do they go during the day?”

  “Any place the light can't reach them,” Myra replied.

  “Like hollow trees, that kind of thing?”

  “Anywhere will do,” she asserted. “Even under the ground.”

  “Really?” the wizard asked.

  “It's not like they have bodies,” the ogress pointed out.

  “So, they could be under us at this very moment?”

  “Possibly,” the former lich nodded.

  “Well, that's a comforting thought, isn't it?”

  “Not really,” Sarrac replied, shaking his head. “However, the fact is that the sun is up is. As long as that's the case, we have nothing to fear from them; wherever they are.”

  “Tonight, we'll be sleeping on holy ground,” Paul added. “So, we won't have anything to fear then, either.”

  “I hope you're right,” Joey replied.

  The remainder of their journey was unremarkable. Although the outskirts of the mountains along which they were traveling were rocky and barren, they were still far more filled with life than the dark lands. Here and there, clum
ps of long grass managed, not only cling to life but, to thrive. Occasionally, they would pass a solitary tree – of what appeared to be the pine family – clinging to the rocks. The surrounding air was filled with the sound of birds and the noise of busy insects. It certainly wasn't fruitful enough to be a permanent home for the living, but it was pleasant enough countryside to ride through, nonetheless.

  Roughly an hour before the sun set, the vanguard of the band encountered some of the sentries who stood guard over the tomb. These men immediately escorted Paul and his companions to Captain Thaelen, while the Warriors with them were reunited with family members they had been separated from for weeks.

  “How did you reach us so quickly?” Thaelen asked, taking Paul by the wrist. “The men I sent to General Halfar left just five days ago.”

  Alena shot Sarrac a glance as the captain said this.

  “We left before any messengers arrived,” the ogress replied. “We didn't meet any on our way here.”

  “We may have just missed each other,” Sarrac suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Thaelen said, shaking his head. “Part of the message was that we spotted what we believe was a wraith about a week ago. We've seen more since then. I hope to the gods I didn't send those men to their deaths.”

  “What was the other part of the message?” Alena asked.

  “I wanted the general to send more food,” the captain replied. “We've gone through nearly two-thirds of our supply, although we've been rationing what we have and foraging for more.”

  “Fortunately,” Paul said, “that's no longer going to be an issue.”

  “What do you mean?”

  A wide smile spread across Captain Thaelen's face as the paladin briefly recounted how he and his companions had discovered, cleansed, and captured the Fortress of Donmar.

  “That's incredible,” he said the moment Paul had finished his tale. “It's almost unbelievable. It's more than we could have ever even dreamed of. It's... It's...”

  “It's divine providence,” Sarrac suggested.

  “I couldn't agree more,” Thaelen replied with a nod. “The gods have given us what we need to utterly destroy the undead.”

  “Several of the things, yes,” Darek ceded. “But, I've got the feeling we're going to need even more before this is all over.”

  “They'll make sure we have it,” the ogre said confidently.

  “Paul once told me that he believed in answered prayers,” Darek replied with half a smile. “I didn't at the time. I have to say; I'm beginning to come around.”

  “We need to leave here with the first light of dawn,” Alena asserted. “The sooner we get back to the fortress, the sooner we can get back to slaughtering the dead and freeing the living.”

  “And, the sooner the Warriors and their families can start their new lives,” Myra added with a smile.

  “Until we get back,” Darek said, turning his eyes to Paul, “we have to be exceptionally careful. It may be that a legion of ethereal undead are following us. You need to sanctify the ground outside the catacombs before the sun goes down. Which means; you don't have a lot of time to waste.”

  “No,” the paladin agreed. “I don't.”

  Minutes later, the young man went to work. He began with the chapel and the passageway that connected it to the central chamber of the catacombs. Softly and slowly, he sang a prayer that asked the gods of light for their protection. With his arms across his chest, he raised and lowered his head as he marched along the boundaries of the area he intended to sanctify.

  Having blessed this corridor, he turned his attention to the hall that led from the exterior into the catacombs. Once this was sanctified, Paul then blessed an area just outside the entrance that was large enough to contain all of the horses, as well as the men that would stand watch over them.

  While this was being attended to, his companions offered their aid to Thaelen – who was orchestrating the withdrawal from the catacombs. The wagons were loaded with what remaining sacks of grain they had, along with what little clothing and the few favorite items the refugees from Kafmara had brought with them to this place. Many hands made light work and, in less than an hour, this feat was accomplished.

  Just before the sun dipped below the horizon, the paladin had also completed his task.

  “Why did you sanctify the chapel and the hallways?” Joey asked as the pair made their way back inside.

  “I didn't do that the last time we were here,” Paul explained.

  “You cleansed the chapel,” Joey pointed out.

  “I didn't sanctify it,” the paladin counter-pointed-out. “With all the men we have with us now, some of us are going to have to sleep in the chapel. That, combined with the fact that an army of incorporeal undead may be following us, I felt that it was a good idea to make sure that wraiths and what-have-you couldn't just walk in on us.”

  “You know,” Joey nodded, “when you say it like that, it's blindingly obvious.”

  “I think so.”

  “Have you finished?” the fair fairy asked, flying up to the face of her friend.

  “I have,” Paul nodded.

  “Good,” she smiled, “because you may want to re-sanctify this room.”

  “It's still sanctified,” the paladin replied. “At least, it feels like it is.”

  “Oh, it is,” she nodded. “But, the divine power has faded a little since you first blessed it. Can't you tell?”

  “I think I can...” Paul said slowly. “Still, I'm sure it'll be enough to keep the undead out.”

  “Oh, it will be,” she nodded again.

  “Then, why should I do it again?”

  “Because of your turns, silly,” she giggled. “Just think how truly pitiful that one was last night compared to the glorious magnificence of those during the siege! I didn't say anything this morning, because I was so happy that we were all still alive, but I was a little embarrassed for you. It was like how amazing Joey's lightning bolt was, right up until he passed out. At first, you're almost stunned by his power and – to be perfectly honest – his sheer masculinity; but then, you end up just wanting to say 'awwww' and pat him on the head. You see what I mean?”

  “I think I do,” Paul chuckled.

  “I wish I didn't,” Joey replied softly, shaking his head.

  “Either way,” the paladin continued, “I'm too tired to do it at the moment. If I channel any more divine power tonight, I don't know that I'll have a turn left in me if we end up attacked.”

  “You need to make sure that you do,” Darek observed, as the trio approached the rest of their companions. “The more I think about that wraith you recognized, the less I like it. He may still be trying to cut the thread of fate.”

  “What?” Joey chuckled.

  “It's part of the prophecy that led us to the vault,” Darek explained. “Sarrac.”

  “The prophecy of The Arms states:” the ogre began,

  “When time shall come to take his stand,

  To raise his fist and strike a blow,

  And fuel the flames that he has fanned,

  ‘Til they engulf the ancient foe,

  Then take up arms to lay them low.

  In ancient hall in empty room,

  Where bold men fell and dead did reek,

  And noble king once dug his tomb,

  To hide his bones in mountain peak,

  On Calcast height, the son must seek.

  Beware of those who fear the loom,

  And seek to cut the thread of fate,

  Who hope by such to stay their doom,

  For such a chance, they watch and wait,

  Lost souls of night and evil great.”

  “We found the vault on Calcast height,” Darek said, “in the tomb of King Paffek. Well... sort of. Anyway, the point is that the place was swarming with wraiths or – if you prefer – lost souls of night. After we managed to escape, I figured they had forfeited whatever deal...”

  “Deal?” Joey interrupted.

  “It'
s like I was telling you this morning,” Myra explained. “Wraiths are the souls of those who have made a pact with the hells – or more specifically, the creatures that rule over them.”

  “So,” Darek continued, “the wraiths from Paffek's tomb have some bargain to keep. For my part, I think it's safe to assume that part of that deal is killing Paul.”

  “Sacrificing him alive,” Nyssa said thoughtfully, “if what they said while we were there is any indication.”

  “Probably,” Darek nodded. “Either way, at the time, I figured he'd gotten away. Now, I'm not so sure.”

  “What you're saying,” Joey replied, turning to look at the paladin, “is that this wraith may actually be hunting Paul?”

  “That's exactly what he's saying!” Nyssa said with a wide smile. “Well done, Joey!”

  “What do you think, Myra?” Joey asked. “You probably know more about the undead than any other living creature on Zanoth. Do you think that's a realistic possibility?”

  “Well...” Myra began.

  “Of course, it's possible!” the fairy interjected, before her mind became enthralled by a completely different subject. “Almost... anything... is... possible... Like, it might even have a hot-springs in it. Wouldn't that be just lovely? Then, after a hard day of killing undead, we'd be able to soak in it and relax. Not all of us at the same time, obviously. We'd have to have a ‘girls' hour’ and a ‘boys' hour’. Maybe two girls' hours, come to think of it. And, we should probably get to go first, what with us being ladies and all.”

  “It's a sincere possibility,” Myra continued, rolling her eyes. “I hadn't considered it before this moment, just because – much like Darek – I'd assumed that when we escaped, the bargain had been broken. That may not be the case, however. Which would explain his being here – if it is the same wraith.”

  “I can't be positive,” the paladin admitted, “but, I think it's him.”

  “Whether or not it is,” Darek said, “you'd better make sure to sanctify the ground before we call it a night from now on.”

  “Absolutely,” Alena nodded.

  Shortly after this conversation, the evening meal was prepared. It was an extremely enjoyable one for a wide number of reasons. The first of these was that fathers, sons, and brothers were rejoined with their families for the first time in weeks. An additional cause of joy was the fact that the fasting endured by the catacombs' inhabitants had finally come to an end. Each was able to eat their fill without the slightest hint of restraint.