Brothers Haymaker (Haymaker Adventures Book 2)

by Sam Ferguson

  Knowing they were so close to Tomyn, Jonathan was extra vigilant during his shift. He stood behind a thick growth of briars and used his vantage point to scan the river and the opposite bank for any sign of movement. He routinely walked around the camp, checking for enemies creeping up from behind. Fortunately, the night was quiet, and nothing happened.

  The morning sun broke over the river with its warmth and birds heralded its arrival. Jonathan woke the others and they all prepared to cross the river. They crept through the forest for the last mile to Tomyn. Occasionally Ziegler would signal for them all to stop, but then he would resume moving forward without incident. It took them nearly an hour to cross the remaining bit of forest, but they made it to Tomyn silently, without raising any alarms.

  Jonathan and Jason were sent around the large tower they had spied from the river, while Ziegler and the others continued forward. Jonathan found the door at the base of the tower already ajar, so he slipped inside and peered around. Some bits of what used to be wooden furniture littered the main floor, along with heaps of brick and stone that had fallen out of place over the years. A broken set of stone stairs wound its way to the top, but the remnants of the wooden platform at the upper level were barely more than a couple of boards held together by rusted metal.

  “There’s nothing here,” Jonathan whispered.

  “Let’s move,” Jason said.

  Jonathan pulled out of the building and then the two of them moved quickly to catch up with Ziegler and the others. The entire city was overgrown with ivy and bushes like the tower. A few trees had even sprouted inside houses, tearing through the roofs and crumbling walls of stone out of their way over the years it took to mature. The main thoroughfare was little more than a few stones still poking out from the centuries of dirt and growth that now covered the road. Birds and deer inhabited a large structure to the left that appeared to be some sort of barn, for through the decayed outer wall they could still see signs of animal stalls inside.

  “It looks deserted,” Jason said.

  Ruben paused and looked to them for a moment, then he smiled and pointed to the ring that Koanin had given him. “Maybe I can see what the trees know,” he said with a smile.

  Ziegler nodded and the group crept toward a large grove of aspens growing between two brick buildings. Ruben moved to the closest aspen and pressed up against its white bark. He then whispered some sort of incantation and closed his eyes.

  Jonathan watched the wizard for a few moments, and then turned to peek around the corner of the building.

  “Well,” Ziegler said quietly. “What do you see?”

  Ruben sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, I really thought that would work,” he said.

  Ziegler sighed and snapped his fingers. The group was back out in the street and moving through the city again. They passed by an old shrine to some deity, but the statue had long since been broken and was now unrecognizable. There were a series of houses after that, most missing their roof.

  “Keep your eyes peeled for a set of windows,” Jason said as he nudged Jonathan with his elbow.

  “Windows?” Ziegler said. “What in Hammenfein do we need windows for?”

  “We don’t,” Jonathan replied. “Jason needs a pair of windows to impress his soon to be father-in-law.”

  Ziegler grunted and offered a single nod. “Eyes sharp. They could be watching us right now.”

  They crept through building by building for over an hour, but never found any sign that anyone, Larkyn or otherwise, had been in the area at all. Still, they continued their search, scouring the city one house and abandoned building at a time.

  Then, as they were crossing toward a rather large church, Jonathan whistled to the group and pointed at the crypt off to the side of the building. “Guys, look,” he said.

  “It’s a crypt,” Ruben said dismissively. There won’t be anything in there except for caskets and cremated ashes.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “No, I mean look at the gate. The building is old and has ivy all over it like everything else here, but the gate has a new lock. Look, it isn’t rusted or anything.”

  Ziegler motioned for everyone to be quiet and he moved around to the crypt while he held his sword at the ready. He gingerly reached up with his left hand and touched the lock, then he turned and nodded. He waved for the others to join him.

  “Larkyn practiced necromancy right?” Jonathan said. “Maybe this is where he performs his secret magic.”

  “How big are drow crypts?” Ziegler asked Ruben.

  Ruben shrugged. “Well, they are similar to ones you might find in Lehemat, so maybe a few rooms and a large chapel type room for the ceremony.”

  Ziegler nodded. He pulled on the gate, it didn’t move. He pushed it, still it didn’t budge. “We’ll have to make a bit of noise,” he said.

  “Wait,” Ruben said. “I have always wanted to try something.”

  “Ruben, we don’t have time for any more foolish spells with the trees,” Ziegler replied.

  Ruben shook his head and stepped in front of Ziegler anyway. He bent low to the ivy climbing on the nearby wall and whispered something to it. The ring on his hand began to glow and a small offshoot grew out of the vine and crept along the metal gate toward the lock. It slipped the point inside, and then a second offshoot formed and helped apply torsion to the mechanism. A series of faint clicks sounded and then the lock turned and the gate opened.

  “Well, I’ll be a frog’s uncle,” Ziegler commented. “That was impressive.”

  Ruben beamed and then gestured for Ziegler to lead the way.

  The group stealthily crept down the stairs and soon entered into what looked like a chapel. There were stone pews lined in four rows below a dais of gray stone that supported a pedestal made entirely of metal.

  “Seems normal enough,” Jason whispered.

  Ziegler shook his head and pointed to the floor. “Footprints,” he said.

  Jonathan looked down and sure enough, there were easily visible footprints in the dust along the floor. The group followed the thickest trail down a narrow hall and then around a bend to a large, iron door. Unlike the gate above, this portal was unlocked. Ziegler gently pressed it open and the group walked inside. A strange, red glow emanated from a crystal floating above an altar. Jonathan could tell by looking at the stone on the floor and the walls that the altar did not match. It was made entirely of onyx, the same stone that was used to form the altar the troll king used.

  “Something isn’t right here,” Jonathan said. Ziegler nodded and gestured toward two more doors on the opposite side of the room. Ziegler and Jason moved to stand watch at the doors, while Ruben moved closer to inspect the floating crystal.

  Jonathan glanced back through the doorway they had entered and gripped his bow, ready to fire at the first sign of an ambush.

  Suddenly, the door on the right opened outward. Jonathan jumped up against the wall and pressed into the shadows. Jason snugged himself up behind the door and Ziegler tiptoed away as well. Ruben and Miranda ducked behind the altar and watch Jonathan for their cues.

  Jonathan strained against the dim light, but it didn’t take him long to recognize what was entering the room. The creature was tall, with a mohawk of brown hair standing high over its ugly head. Its arms were muscular and lean, dragging something along the ground.

  The troll bent down and then came up with its prize. To Jonathan’s horror, an elf was placed upon the altar, bound at the wrists, knees, ankles, and around the upper arms. A thick gag muffled the elf’s screams. The red crystal twirled in the air above the elf, pulsing now with throbbing light that waxed and waned as it revolved. The troll sneered wickedly and raised an obsidian dagger.

  Jonathan didn’t waste another second. He drew back an arrow and let it fly straight into the monster’s heart. The troll looked up after the shaft dug deep into its chest, arm still poised over the intended sacrifice. It grunted and then fell backward. Jonathan looked beyond the troll and into the op
en doorway. There were iron cells in that chamber. He signaled to Ruben and Miranda. They rose up and began untying the elf on the altar while Jonathan moved into the open room with his brother.

  “This is sick,” Jason commented when they came to a pile of dead elves heaped into a grotesque pile in one of the cells. “Who would do such a thing?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “We have to check the other doorway.”

  Jonathan and Jason returned to Ziegler, who was still waiting by the closed door with his sword poised and ready to strike at anything that came out. Jonathan reached for the door and pulled on the handle. It opened and a flood of bright light assaulted his eyes.

  There was a commotion from within, grunting and shouting along with what sounded like furniture scraping along the stone floor. Jonathan blinked against the light and saw a large form standing up. As soon as he made out the mohawk, he put two arrows into the being’s chest. Jason and Ziegler rushed in and finished off three more trolls.

  “All clear!” Ziegler called out as the last troll’s head rolled upon the floor.

  “It’s an office of some sort,” Jason called out.

  “Why would trolls need an office?” Miranda asked.

  “Not the trolls,” the scared elf said as Ruben removed the gag. “That’s Larkyn’s office.”

  “Larkyn?” Jonathan echoed as he turned around to regard the elf they had rescued. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Deltys. I am a mercenary, or, I was.”

  “Mercenary?” Ziegler bellowed as he exited the room and approached the altar. He held his sword tip at Deltys’ throat threateningly. “You worked for Larkyn?”

  Deltys shook his head. “No, not really. What I mean is, he hired our group a short time ago. He came to Inghali looking for mercenaries. We signed on with him. He said he needed protection. Everyone has heard the rumors of Tanglewood Forest becoming more dangerous the last few years.”

  Ruben nodded and looked to Ziegler. The captain was not yet convinced, and kept his sword aimed at the mercenary’s throat.

  “Anyway, we came to Tomyn like he wanted. Then, one by one the others in my group went missing. Larkyn grew furious, said we needed to triple the patrols and be on our guard.”

  “Did he say what was after him?” Ziegler asked.

  Deltys shook his head. “Nothing was after him. It was all a ruse. He hired us to lure us here for his dark magic. By the time I figured it out, I was locked up in the cell with the others. The trolls were everywhere. They sacrificed the others one by one upon this very altar. I can still hear their screams.”

  “Why would he do that?” Ziegler asked.

  Deltys pointed to the crystal still hovering in the air. “He used the life force of others to fuel this crystal.”

  “Why?” Ziegler pressed.

  Deltys shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is, when the door was left open, I watched one time when the troll killed one of the others. His life force was drained out and absorbed into this crystal.”

  “Then we should destroy it,” Ziegler said.

  “Wait!” Ruben cautioned. “It isn’t wise to try and simply attack something like this. If what he says is true, it could strike back with a magical ward, or it could explode and bring the whole crypt down on top of us.”

  “Jason, go in the office and see what you can dig up.”

  Jason nodded and rushed back into the office.

  Jonathan watched Deltys as Ziegler continued to pull information out of him.

  “Where is Larkyn now?” Ziegler asked.

  “Said he had what he needed from us. Said he was going to Sierryn,” Deltys replied.

  “What is in Sierryn?”

  Ruben interjected. “That is the ancestral home of the Sierri’Tai. They lived in a vast system of underground caves.”

  Deltys shivered and rubbed his arms. “It’s said if you go far enough into Sierryn, you can find the underdark and harness its energy. It is where necromancy was born in Terramyr, and the reason for the schism between the drow and the rest of us.”

  Ziegler pulled his sword back and placed it into his sheath. “You said you are a mercenary?”

  Deltys nodded.

  “But you are not Pes’Tai. You are Svetli’Tai.”

  Deltys nodded again. “Most of my kin are endowed with magic. I am not. I was given the gift of the sword, and I used it to my advantage. I hired out with a group of mixed elves.” He pointed to the room with the iron cells. “Go and see for yourself, there are not only Pes’Tai piled in heaps in that chamber.”

  Ziegler nodded and folded his arms. “How long ago did Larkyn leave here?”

  Deltys shrugged. “I’m not sure, maybe a day or two, maybe more. I can’t be sure how long I have been down here.”

  “We should go back to Gwyndoltai. If Larkyn is in Sierryn, then the council can arrest him and put him on trial,” Ruben said.

  “You can’t arrest Larkyn,” Deltys said with a vigorous shake of his head.

  Ziegler shook his head as well. “Deltys is right. You cannot arrest a person like Larkyn. He will fight his way out.”

  “Then let the council take their warriors,” Ruben said.

  “You can’t have forgotten that some of the council’s warriors tried to murder us, can you?” Ziegler shot back.

  Deltys shook his head. “I heard Larkyn talk about the council. He has allies there. I don’t know who, but he has a friend there who would help him for sure.”

  “Maybe this letter will shed light on who that friend is,” Jason said as he came out of the office with a piece of paper in hand.

  Ruben frowned and moved to take the letter from Jason. He mumbled as he read through the words and then his mouth dropped open and he shook his head. “This letter is written to Larkyn by none other than Isylian.” Ruben turned to look at Jonathan.

  Jonathan knew the name well. It was the fiery red-eyed Svetli’Tai councilman. “He sat in the council meeting with me,” he said.

  “Isylian speaks for the Svetli’Tai people,” Deltys said. “His is the oldest family to sit on the council. If he is partnered with Larkyn, then Gwyndoltai will be a death trap if we go there.”

  Ruben nodded his agreement. “This letter lays out terms for Isylian’s fees in exchange for helping Larkyn acquire certain artifacts.”

  “Is Nebenuk’s amulet listed?” Jonathan asked.

  Ruben shook his head. “No, but other items of necromancy are listed. According to this letter, Isylian acknowledges Larkyn’s ambition to control a seat on the council and reestablish the legitimacy of the drow nations in Tanglewood Forest.”

  “For that, Larkyn would need an army. Even with Isylian, the council will not sit idly by and let Larkyn overtake a council seat.”

  “And that is why he is going to Sierryn,” Ruben said as he dropped the letter onto the altar. “Sierryn has a sacred crypt where all of their past warriors were buried.”

  “No, that doesn’t make sense,” Jonathan blurted out. “Nebenuk’s amulet controlled the weather. It didn’t help control armies brought back from the dead.” He then snapped his fingers and his eyes grew wide. “Larkyn gave the amulet to the troll king to control the weather in the Murkle Quags. That’s how the monsoons spread northward.”

  “We know that already,” Ziegler said.

  Jonathan smiled. “Larkyn wasn’t trying to raise an army of undead elves, he was trying to bring a nation of trolls north to help him reclaim his family’s seat at the council table. It must have been a simple deal. Offer the trolls power to conquer the peninsula, and then in return they offer the warriors needed to take back the council seat. We’ve already seen many trolls out here. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Then why would Larkyn need sacrifices, and why would he run to Sierryn?” Miranda asked.

  Ruben moved close and inspected the red crystal hovering in the air. He hummed and stroked his chin for several moments.

  “What are you doing?” Ziegler asked.
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  Ruben waved him off and kept staring at the crystal. Finally, he turned to Deltys and asked, “Have you ever seen power leave this crystal?”

  Deltys shook his head. “No, but most of the time the door was closed.”

  “Nebenuk’s amulet was altered to feed upon life force to enhance its power. Maybe Larkyn has figured out how to store life force indefinitely.”

  “That doesn’t explain why he needs it.” Ziegler quipped, his patience obviously shortening.

  Ruben snapped his fingers. “If Larkyn’s first plan to bring the trolls northward failed, then he would have to look for something to replace them. Sure, a few trolls remained loyal and relocated up here somehow, but most of the survivors scattered after the war was won. So, in the same way that he could use Nebenuk’s amulet to control the weather, maybe he can use this crystal, and the life forces inside, to control something much more dangerous.” Ruben pointed to the list of items on the letter and nodded. “Of course. He isn’t after an army of undead elves. He is trying to reach the underdark. If he can unleash just a handful of the demons found in the bowels of Terramyr, even the council would be hard pressed to defend Gwyndoltai from such an attack. This must be his plan.”

  “If that is true, then why leave this crystal here?” Jonathan asked.

  Ruben shrugged. “There are several crystals listed in the letter. This is only one of them. Perhaps he has them strategically placed to help control the demons once he releases them, or maybe this one is being kept here for safe keeping until he needs it. All I know, is if he has a few days’ head start on us, we will need to hurry to catch up to him.”

  “Then we have no time to lose,” Ziegler said. “We must go to Sierryn and stop him before he can attain his goal. With any luck, we’ll find Raven there as well.”

  “I might know a way,” Deltys said. “I don’t know if he still operates out here, but I used to know of an elf who captained a river boat. If we find him, then he can take you to Sierryn much faster than you can travel by land.”