The Kingdom of Shadow

by Richard A. Knaak

  Kentril asked again about the time factor and where the gem might be found. In response to the first question, Juris Khan assured him that if they left within the hour, there would be time enough. A path cut along the mountain centuries past would serve them well in that respect.

  In regard to the second question, the lord of Ureh requested that his daughter retrieve a box. Moments later, when Atanna had returned with the small silver container and given it to him, Khan produced for the captain a small stone of brilliant clarity upon whose top had been etched a single rune.

  “This is a piece left from the shaping of the original. The rune spell ties it to the other. Hold it before you, and it’ll guide your way.”

  “You should depart now,” his daughter informed them. She touched Kentril’s hand again. “Go with my blessing.”

  Zayl confronted him. “Captain Dumon, I would like to go with you. My skills could be of use, and I know this area well. It would speed matters up some, I believe.”

  “A sage suggestion,” Juris Khan declared. “I thank you.”

  “Well if he goes, you’ve no need of me up on that chill mountain,” snapped Tsin. “I prefer to wait here.”

  Their host accepted this decision also. “You would do me a boon by being here, master sorcerer. Perhaps with you to aid me, I can be freed of Gregus’s wicked magic. I offer you all the books, scrolls, and other works gathered in my sanctum as a start for your research, and in exchange for my freedom, afterward you may keep any that you wish.”

  If the talk of gold and riches had stirred the hearts of Kentril’s men, the mention of so much magical knowledge did the same for the Vizjerei. “You’re—you’re most generous, my Lord Khan.”

  “I would give anything to end this nightmare,” the elder responded, his gaze turning to Captain Dumon. “Is that not so, Atanna?”

  “Anything,” she agreed, also looking at Kentril.

  The tiny gem glowed bright, an encouraging sign.

  Quickly folding his hand so as not to risk losing the small stone, Kentril deposited it in the same pouch in which he also carried the brooch. He had not told Atanna about finding the latter but swore he would return it to her once the Key to Light had been set in its proper place.

  Juris Khan had given them explicit instructions about what they needed to do once they had obtained the magical gem. Kentril knew exactly where to place it, not only to make certain that the wind did not blow it off but also so as to catch the very first hint of sun. Only by following the instructions to the letter could he hope to keep Ureh—and Atanna—from vanishing from his life.

  The five men struggled their way around the mountain. While the path had been well carved, time had taken its toll. More than once, they had been forced to leap over breaks or climb above rock falls. Orlif had nearly slipped once, but Gorst and Jodas had pulled him back before anything could happen.

  Much to the mercenaries’ surprise, Zayl proved an excellent guide. He had spoken truth when he said he knew the area well. True, the necromancer had never climbed to the top of Nymyr, but he seemed to have a sense for how the mountain had been shaped.

  Torch in hand, Kentril now followed Zayl, which meant that as the fierce, cold wind blew the necromancer’s cloak about, the captain had a good look every once in a while at the mysterious pouch. Something about its contents still bothered him; he almost felt that the bag stared back at him. The notion struck Kentril as ludicrous, but still he could not shake off the sensation of being watched.

  “There is an outcropping here that we must go over,” Zayl informed him.

  “Gorst.” The brawny fighter, now clad in a simple cloak of his own, slipped ahead with a length of rope. With Kentril’s aid, the pair secured the rope, then, one by one, each man worked his way up.

  Once over, Kentril called a pause while he checked the tiny stone again. This time, it flared so bright that he almost expected to see the Key to Light sitting on the ledge before them.

  “It must be close,” he muttered.

  “Yes, we are in luck,” replied the pale spellcaster. “Juris Khan thought it had fallen much farther away.”

  “How long do you reckon we still have?”

  Zayl peered up at the night sky. It had taken them several hours to reach this point. The shadow of Nymyr had been swallowed by the dark some time ago. “Just enough, if we find the Key soon. This side of the mountain is not so harsh a climb as that which overlooks Ureh.”

  They moved on, steeling themselves against the cold night. Kentril retrieved the small stone again, correcting their path.

  Minutes later, they literally stumbled over the magical gemstone.

  Dirt and rock, possibly from Gregus Mazi’s murderous spell, had all but buried the artifact. Only when Kentril turned in a circle, trying to find out why it seemed the party should go no farther, did he kick up a few loose pieces of rock and uncover one glittering edge.

  Although the only nearby illumination consisted of their meager torches, the Key to Light still shone like a miniature star. Zayl bent down, digging up the gem. It fit in the cup of his hands, a perfectly shaped crystal.

  “Must be worth a fortune,” grunted bearded Brek. “What do you think we could get for it, captain?”

  “From Ureh, more than you could ever get selling it elsewhere,” Kentril retorted, glaring at the mercenary. The thought of betraying Atanna filled him with anger.

  Zayl quickly played peacemaker. “No one would think to do anything less than what we intended, captain. Now we must hurry; dawn will be too quick in coming.”

  With the necromancer carrying the artifact, they began their final ascent. Gorst secured all lines for them and acted as a counterweight now and then when they had to swing from place to place. Kentril actually found the way far more easy than he would have expected; the mountains of his homeland would have caused him much more difficulty. If not for the fact that the people of Ureh had been cursed to remain hidden in the shadow of this very peak, they could have easily rectified their own situation.

  At last, they neared the top. As the group paused on a large ledge, Zayl handed the Key to Light over to Kentril.

  “Say, cap’n?”

  “What is it, Jodas?”

  “What happens to the rest of the party if we don’t get this thing in the right place? They disappear with the rest?”

  Kentril’s gaze shifted to Zayl, who shrugged and answered, “It is best we do not find out.”

  After a few moments’ more searching, both Captain Dumon and the necromancer came to the same conclusion regarding the most appropriate location. Unfortunately, that location meant a treacherous climb up a dangerous rise some three hundred feet and more. Although only a small part of the tip of Nymyr, both agreed that based on Khan’s calculations it would be best.

  “I’ll do it alone,” Kentril informed the others.

  Gorst, however, would not hear it. Although he had remained fairly quiet up until now, Kentril’s suggestion stirred him to protest. “You need an anchor. We’ll tie the end of a rope around our waists. You fall, I’ll catch you, honest.”

  Knowing better than to try to argue at this point, Kentril agreed to let the giant join in the climb. In truth, it made him feel safer knowing Gorst would be there. They had fought side-by-side in many battles and could always depend on each other’s aid. If anyone could be trusted up there, it would have to be Gorst.

  Kentril gritted his teeth hard as he began. After a fairly simple journey, even a relatively easy search for the artifact, this last bit threatened to rip victory from their grasp. The wind felt a hundred times more fierce, and nowhere could he get a hold that satisfied him. Out of fear that to stop would mean slipping and falling to his death, Kentril pushed faster and faster, praying he would reach the top before his luck ran out.

  With the natural skill he seemed to have for everything, Gorst more than kept pace. Kentril imagined his friend gouging handholds out of the rock face. Likely it would have been better if the much la
rger mercenary had gone up by himself, but then it would have been his captain who would have protested.

  Kentril’s fingers finally stretched over the upper edge. He had to rebrace himself when ice caused his initial grip to falter, but after that, he managed to pull himself up with little trouble. Peering around, Kentril studied the immediate area. Large enough for four men to stand, it definitely offered the first place on Nymyr to receive the sun’s kiss.

  With the agility of a mountain goat, Gorst climbed up after him. Thick hair flying in his face, the other mercenary gave Kentril a big grin.

  From his belt pouch, Captain Dumon removed the artifact. He looked the vicinity over, not wanting the Key to Light to fall from its perch the moment the climbers had returned to Ureh.

  “There?” suggested Gorst.

  There proved to be a tiny outcropping shaped somewhat like a bowl turned on its side. It faced the right direction and fit in with Juris Khan’s directions but was not quite large enough for the gem to fit.

  Taking his dagger, Kentril began chopping at the spot. He only needed to remove a little of the frozen earth below. Then he could securely place the artifact within and be finished with this chill place.

  His dagger slowly bit into the icy ground. Chips of rock-hard dirt flew away—

  The tip of the blade scratched at something white. Kentril worked at it, trying to remove the obstacle to his success.

  He swore. With his dagger, he had unearthed a bone.

  There existed little doubt in his head that this bone had belonged once to one of the five unfortunates who had been murdered by Gregus Mazi. Now fate had let the dead sorcerer again hinder the plans to free Ureh from his curse. Try as he might, Kentril could not dig the bone out, and no other spot atop Nymyr would do.

  “Let me try.” Gorst took Kentril’s place, pulling out his own blade. For many men, the giant’s dagger would have almost served as a short sword. Gorst chipped away using his prodigious might, making progress where even his captain could not.

  Finally, enough of the bone—likely from the forearm—had been exposed that Gorst seized it in his huge hands and began to pull. The massive fighter grunted with strain, the muscles and veins in his neck throbbing. The frozen ground around the area cracked . . .

  The bone came free.

  With a startled yell, Gorst fell backward, slipping on the icy mountaintop.

  He began to slide toward the edge.

  Thrusting the artifact into the newly created hole, Kentril wrapped one arm around the outcropping, then braced himself against it. With his other hand, he seized the rope linking him to Gorst and pulled with all his might.

  The other mercenary’s head and arms went over the side. However, as the rope went taut, he spun sideways, sending one leg over but giving one hand the chance to reach for a hold.

  Gasping, Kentril tugged with all his might, fighting exhaustion, gravity, and Gorst’s not inconsiderable weight. The arm that held tight to the outcropping shrieked with pain but held.

  Gorst lost his first attempt at finding a grip, nearly skidding off into the air in the process. Only Kentril kept him from doing so, the captain throwing his own weight back to counter as best he could that of the larger mercenary.

  On his second attempt, the giant managed to grab hold of a small rocky area. With care, Gorst pulled himself to safety, for once gasping from effort.

  “The Key,” he called to Kentril.

  “Where it should be.” Barring another sorcerer blasting away what remained of the mountaintop, it would stay there for some time to come. Juris Khan had also indicated that even on days of rain or snow, the artifact would somehow be able to do its duty.

  The Key to Light twinkled suddenly, almost as if stirring to life. For a moment, Kentril wondered what inner magic would cause it to do so, but then it occurred to him that not only did the gemstone look brighter, but he could now see his surroundings in better detail.

  He looked over his shoulder.

  They had cut this even closer than he had thought.

  Dawn had come.

  The artifact flared like a sun itself, seeming to take in every bit of illumination around it. Kentril watched it a few seconds more, then hurried as best he could across the icy top of Nymyr.

  The light of day encroached upon where Ureh had sat protected. In the distance, the jungle seemed to open its green canopy. Nearer, the rocky landscape leading to the fabled realm took on distinct shapes.

  And Ureh?

  As the captain watched, sunlight hit the city where Atanna prayed for his success. Sunlight touched where shadow had kept her safe.

  And in the end, sunlight failed . . . and under the impenetrable and impossible shade of the mountain, the walled city stood triumphant.

  SEVEN

  Music touched the returning party, music full of gaiety and life. Not only did flutes play, but so did horns, lutes, and drums. As Kentril and the others entered, they also heard voices raised in merriment and noted light upon light darting about in the city below. Deep shadow still covered the kingdom, but hopelessness no longer enshrouded the lost realm.

  Atanna met them almost immediately. Her eyes became Kentril’s world, and her voice as she thanked him stirred again his heart and soul.

  “I want you to see something before we go to my father,” she immediately said. Taking him by the hand, she led the captain and the others to a high balcony, from which nearly all the city could be seen. Atanna waved her hand across the vision of Ureh, showing Kentril the fruits of his success.

  There were people—live people—celebrating in the streets.

  They were everywhere. Not the pallid specters of before, but breathing folk in flowing, colorful clothes more like those donned by the desert inhabitants of Lut Gholein rather than the more dour and formal eastern wear normally seen in Kehjistan. They laughed, they danced, they sang, all the things of life.

  “Nice,” Gorst commented, grinning at the festive activity.

  Captain Dumon looked at his hostess, ever a wonderful sight in herself. “I don’t understand. The people—”

  “It happened the moment the sun failed to touch our kingdom. Not only did the shadow hold, but all of Ureh seemed to gain earthly substance. We’re still not truly yet a part of the world again, but we are nearer to it than ever before!”

  The necromancer leaned close. “Magic is a strange and complicated creature, captain. Perhaps the lord of the realm can better explain this miracle.”

  Kentril nodded. “We shouldn’t keep him and the others waiting any longer.”

  Atanna did not release his hand, and he made no move to force her. They and the rest hurried through the halls of the palace, halls that, like all else, looked different in ways not noticeable at first.

  The chandeliers and oil lamps had become brighter, that much Kentril would have readily sworn. In addition, the sense of death and decay that he had experienced on his first entry had been replaced by one of spirit, of rebirth.

  And as there had been people of flesh in the streets, there now stood in the halls figures both solid of body and clad in gleaming metal. Armored from toe to neck in chain and plate and wearing open helmets with broad rims in front that stretched a good hand’s width ahead, they saluted the mercenaries and Atanna as the group passed. In some ways, their narrow eyes and pale skin reminded Kentril of Zayl, and he wondered if the necromancer’s ancestry held some link to Ureh.

  More people crossed their path as they neared Juris Khan’s chamber. These wore robes of state with blue or red sashes, and each bowed gracefully as Atanna and the captain headed to the doors. Courtiers also paid homage, men going down on one knee and women curtsying. Brek almost paused to make a play for one of the latter, but Gorst batted him lightly on the back of the head, urging the fighter on.

  The doors opened—and what had once been a room plunged in darkness even greater than that of the deepest shadow now glittered in gold and jewels.

  The very walls had been gilded in g
old. Scrollwork lined each segment, and reliefs decorated the centers. To accent figures and designs, gemstones of every color, hue, and transparency had been artfully interjected. Likely it had taken years for those who had crafted this astonishing display to complete their work, but their effort had obviously been worth the difficulties and time.

  A full honor guard greeted them as they walked inside, a score of armored figures snapping to attention, their lances pointing to the ceiling. At the far end, where the rich crimson rug that started at the doors finally came to its conclusion, a jubilant Juris Khan awaited the new arrivals. Albord and the rest who had been left behind seemed no less pleased at Kentril’s return than the lord of Ureh, and why not? The success of the venture meant that all of them would leave the shadowed kingdom laden with as much treasure as they could carry.

  Of Tsin, however, there was no sign. Remembering the talk of the Vizjerei aiding their host in escaping his personal curse, Kentril assumed that the bearded sorcerer had already rushed off to peruse Khan’s vast library of magical knowledge. So much the better, as far as the captain felt concerned. Not only would Tsin finally do something of value, but he would also be well out of the way.

  “My friends!” the gray-haired monarch gladly called. “My good and trusted friends! You have the gratitude of an entire realm! You have given Ureh a chance to be whole again in a manner we never thought possible!” He indicated the room, the guards, even the courtiers beyond the doors. “Already the fruits of your labors ripen. You bring life to a city! The people celebrate not only their renewal, but those who granted it to them.”

  “Captain Kentril Dumon,” Khan continued, resting his arms on his knees and smiling graciously. “You and your men—and you, too, Master Zayl—are the guests of the palace. It will take a few days to formulate your rewards properly, but in the meantime, whatever you desire in Ureh is yours.”

  Kentril thought of the festival outside. “Are my men free to leave the palace if they so choose?”