Metal and Magic: A Fantasy Journey

by Steve Windsor

  Ealrin had been so focused on Holve today that he hadn't noticed Teresa. Had she been this scared all day?

  "Are... are you ok, Teresa?" he asked her tentatively.

  "Yes," she shot back at him. "I'm fine. Why?"

  She glared at Ealrin with a somewhat normal expression for her, except that instead of keeping her eyes fixed on him, she kept glancing about the cave.

  "I'm just not good underground," she said, more to herself than to Ealrin. "Are the dwarves sure this cave is safe?"

  Holve chuckled as he too sat down and leaned his back against the cavern tunnel wall. The brown rock wall was smooth, as years of water trickling down the sides of the tunnel wall had worn it smooth. Holve grunted as he seated himself, obviously still in pain, but too proud to say he was hurting.

  "They certainly wouldn't be here with us if it wasn't Teresa. Try to rest."

  Ealrin had a sudden urge, so he stood up.

  "I'll go speak to Gorplin to check, Teresa. Be right back."

  He turned to go and find the dwarf, probably towards the front of the company. As he walked he glanced back at Holve and Teresa. Holve had a wry smile on his face, a knowing look on his face. Teresa cocked an eyebrow at Ealrin, then shook her and looked down at her own boots.

  Ealrin grabbed the hilt of his sword. It felt good to be reunited with the weapon Roland had given him. He had regretted leaving it behind on the battlefield. It was comforting to hold its handle. And despite the coolness of the cave, the blade and handle were warm to the touch. Ealrin was too glad to have it back to think much about this strange phenomenon.

  Gorplin was indeed at the front of the group, discussing something with a group of other dwarves, some elves and two men.

  One of those men was Tory.

  ***

  The group was discussing the next day's journey. Gorplin was leading the conversation, the new leader of the dwarves from Kaz-Ulum.

  "By tomorrow noon, we'll follow this stream out of the mountain and to where it flows to the sea. Good thing it's a fresh water spring. We'll rest here tonight and eat up some fish and drink plenty. That ought to give us all enough strength to march on tomorrow. If this spring weren't here it'd be a different story. Let your crews know we leave in the morning."

  Gorplin, though he was young for a dwarf, was quite in charge of the situation. He smiled at himself and seemed content with the progress of the day's march.

  Then a question arose from the troops.

  "And how will we know when it's morning in this blasted darkness?" asked an elf who looked as queasy as Teresa did.

  Ealrin looked around and saw that not everyone was excited about being in a dark tunnel. The elves, especially looked uncomfortable. Their homes generally were in the light of forests and trees, not the darkness of caves.

  "Ah, I forgot!" said Gorplin as he reached into the pouch at his belt.

  "At Kaz-Ulum we have reflectors of the suns that tell us the time of day. No such luck in this tunnel. So we'll use this."

  With that Gorplin pulled out an odd shaped object. It was metal on its top and base, but glass in-between. It was like someone had taken a tube of glass and pinched it in the middle. Something filled the top of the glass tube and was falling to the bottom half.

  "It's called an hourglass," Gorplin said as he chuckled. "Or in our case, it's a half a day glass. It's filled with sand that flows from the top to the bottom. We'll rest until all the sand reaches the bottom of the glass. I'll have some dwarves take the first watch."

  "I and some of the elves will watch as well. I doubt we'll be able to sleep underground anyway," said Lote from behind Ealrin. He jumped at her voice. He hadn't noticed her standing next to him or walking up to him. As all elves were, she was especially light on her feet.

  "Not a fan of the dark?" Ealrin asked her.

  "The dark I can handle. It's this rock roof I wish to be done with. It just feels like it'll crush us at any moment," she said as she looked towards the ceiling.

  Several elves and a few men looked up with wary eyes at the dark brown ceiling of the cave.

  Gorplin let out another chuckle.

  "I wouldn't worry yourselves much," he said as he put a hand to the wall of the cave.

  Gorplin's glove glowed with a dim and gentle green light.

  Then Ealrin gasped, as did several others.

  Spreading out from the point where Gorplin touched the wall, several dwarven runes began to emit the same green glow as his glove. All over the tunnel cavern similar runes also glowed green.

  "This whole tunnel system has been reinforced by dwarven runes and some dwarven engineering as well. This tunnel won't be coming down in this generation or the next! Now go make sure everyone's drinking plenty and eating. We march at the turn of the hourglass."

  Ealrin smiled to himself and to Lote. Being in a cave wasn't a bad thing, as long as it was with a dwarf who knew what he was doing.

  "Go settle the elves, Lote. And thanks for your bravery today," Ealrin put a hand on the elf's shoulder. Without the dwarves and elves, Ealrin would surely still be tied up and a prisoner of the Mercs.

  Or dead.

  The group began to disperse, and Ealrin looked around. There was still one person he wanted to talk to.

  ***

  "Tory!" he called as he watched the twin walk away from the group. He noticed that Tory’s shoulders drooped. It was certainly not how he carried himself normally. But then again, this was not a normal day.

  Ealrin wanted to know how Tory was handling his brother’s betrayal. Not only had he deserted the king, but he had also killed his fellow soldiers. Dwarves Ealrin had seen him talk with, laugh with, and fight with. Perhaps his brother could make sense of the situation when Ealrin could not.

  "How are you doing?" Ealrin asked hesitantly. He really didn't know how else to bring up the topic.

  "The march today has been alright, but I'm looking forward to seeing the sun again," he replied without looking at Ealrin. Without seeing directly into the man's eyes, Ealrin could tell that they were red and puffy. Were those tears of mourning or of anger?

  "Tory," Ealrin said, trying to figure out how to best approach the subject he was most curious about. He attempted to put a hand on Tory’s shoulder, but Tory knocked it away with his own.

  "Look," Tory said, taking a step back and looking directly at Ealrin's face. "I don't want to talk about Cory. I don't know why he did what he did. I don't know why he would kill his own people. All I know is that now Androlion has stolen from me not only a friend, but also a brother." His voice was rising as he spoke and several turned to look at him now shouting at Ealrin.

  Ealrin was now wishing he had not brought it up.

  "When next we see Androlion Fellgate, it'll be his head or mine."

  And with that, Tory stalked off into a part of the tunnel where no others were. Ealrin knew that this was something Tory Greenwall, perhaps for the first time in his life, would face by himself.

  ***

  Ealrin walked back to where Holve and Teresa were carrying his collected provisions: five fish and two containers of fresh spring water.

  Fishing had given Ealrin some time to think. It had also given Teresa and Holve the opportunity to build a small fire out of some moss and ribs through the cave. Others had done the same, causing the roof of the tunnel to become filled with smoke, but due to its height and an outlet somewhere unseen by Ealrin's eyes, the smoke did not stay in the cave or come down low enough to bother its occupants.

  "I didn't think you were coming back," Teresa said, looking up at Ealrin with a scolding look on her face.

  She was never one to begin conversations, or to throw needless words about. Ealrin looked at Holve questioningly.

  "She talks when she's nervous, compounded with the fact that we are both hungry. Hand over the fish," Holve said, answering Ealrin’s unspoken question.

  Teresa gave Holve a mean look, but said nothing more. She accepted the fish from Ealrin and began to co
ok it over the fire, using her sword as a spit.

  After eating and drinking Ealrin’s stomach felt better, but his mind was still a whirlwind.

  What effect was the treason of Cory going to have on the King when he saw him? How was the king faring, and had he met the Raiders on the battlefield yet? How was Holve, who was now snoring away beside him, going to handle the next day’s march?

  Why did Teresa look more beautiful when she slept than when she was awake?

  And if fate had intended for Ealrin to survive the dangers he had faced so far, what else was in store for him, the man with no past and a bleak future?

  Chapter 35: The Use of Lesser Races

  The company was awake and moving at the turn of Gorplin's hourglass. True to their word, the elves had not slept much at all, but rather spent their time keeping watch, replenishing containers of water, and fishing in order to have food on hand for the next day.

  No one was sad for their efforts. Not even the elves.

  "You snore," Teresa said as she woke from her sleep. It took a moment for her to stretch and stand up. Ealrin knew why.

  Sleeping on a cave floor was perhaps the least comfortable bed he could remember. And that included Soltack's books. His back ached, his legs were still tired from the previous day's journey, not to mention his entire body still hurt from the stress and fatigue of the battle he fought just two days ago. He was unsure of when he would get any real respite.

  Twin suns, had it only been two days? Ealrin thought. It felt like he had lived a lifetime in those short cycles of the sun.

  After cleaning up to care for the ancient dwarven caves, the group marched on.

  Without giving it anymore thought, due to the prodding of the dwarves up front and the goading of the elves behind, Ealrin collected his few things and began marching alongside Holve and Teresa again.

  By afternoon they would see the sun.

  ***

  The stream that began in the cavern where they rested continued on throughout the tunnel they walked in. Perhaps at one time it had filled this tunnel with water and formed it out. That may also have been why the dwarves left the tunnel unused. Knowing nothing about tunnels or caves or rivers and not wanting to frighten Teresa anymore than she already was, Ealrin decided to bring up a different topic.

  One he was still curious about.

  The ground was damper here, possibly due to the presence of the underground stream. There were times when they marched alongside it on rocky paths covered in some type of slimy plant that could thrive in such an environment. Other times the stream widened and they were forced to march through it, soaking their boots and marching as deep as their knees in the cold water.

  As they marched through the brown tunnels of rock and earth, ducking under rock formations, Ealrin voiced his question to Holve.

  "What are we going to do about Cory?" he asked his friend who, despite his obvious pain and tiredness, was determined to doggedly trudge through the cave. Holve would not take rests today.

  "Nothing, Ealrin. Cory has chosen his own path. Fate will deal with him now," was the answer he gave back. He walked in front of Ealrin due to the sliminess of their current tunnel and so his face was hidden. What emotion was playing over it right now? Was there any?

  "I think fate has little to do with justice," Ealrin said back, hoping to elicit some type of response more than what he had already received.

  Holve did indeed look back as he kept walking, shin deep in the stream.

  "You think so?"

  Ealrin was about to push for more, getting a little upset that Holve had nothing to say on the matter, but was surprised when Holve continued.

  "It's true that I've seen good people go to jail or worse for crimes they were falsely accused of. I've seen criminals and murderers live out their lives without ever having to face trial for their crimes or see the faces of those who were most affected by their evil. I've seen kings push their countries to war for little more than a stone's throw of territory and cause thousands to march to their deaths. They win a war and then sign over that same land later to another country just because it would benefit them more."

  He paused as he walked. He considered several different ways to say what was to come out of his mouth next. The bubbling of the stream, the splashing of hundreds of feet through water and the murmur of those around him filled Ealrin's ears for a moment before he began to speak again.

  "The difference between a good man and an evil one is how at peace with themselves they are. There's a reason a thief sleeps with a knife. His rest is never rest. He's tortured by his deeds. He may try to convince himself that he's done nothing wrong, but his heart knows better. The one who does well may not get ahead, but he'll be at peace with himself."

  Again Holve looked back at Ealrin. It wasn't anger that filled his face, like Tory had the day before. Instead, there was something else there. Was it sadness?

  "Fate will deal with Cory. It may not be today, but later we'll know the extent of the harm he's caused himself."

  Ealrin simply nodded and continued onward, thinking on what Holve had said. Would time really be the true teller of the consequence of Cory's decision to abandon his people, kill his friends, and betray his king? Ealrin didn't quite feel like that was sufficient.

  "If fate leaves out justice, my swords will not," Teresa said from behind Ealrin as they marched on.

  Neither, apparently, did Teresa.

  ***

  After marching for what felt like days through dwarven rune lit tunnels, admiring large caverns, and once being forced down to hands and knees through the underground stream to fit through a very tiny opening, Ealrin could see a trace of sunlight up ahead.

  The warm air was markedly different than the cool dampness that he had been breathing all morning. He took a deep breath of the summer breeze that was blowing into the tunnel and sighed.

  "I think I agree with the elves," Ealrin said as he took a second deep breath of the warm air. "I prefer the sky over my head rather than rocks."

  "Then don't just stand here breathing in the breeze," Teresa said she shoved Ealrin aside in an effort to get out of the cave as quickly as possible.

  Ealrin smiled at Holve. He knew Teresa had endured the march this morning with gritted teeth and a warrior's determination. The promise of sunshine was all that had kept her from losing her grip and giving into her fear of this cave.

  As everyone pushed forward towards the entrance of the cave, they began to bottleneck at the opening. Apparently they weren't quite ready for everyone to leave the cave for some reason. Ealrin could see Teresa making a concentrated effort to leave, pushing her way past several men of Thoran and stepping around several dwarves.

  Ealrin put aside what he normally thought a princess would be like: prim and proper, dainty and ladylike. Teresa was a different type of princess.

  Holve sat down, winded after a long morning of marching without rest. He breathed heavily and wiped perspiration from his brow.

  "Not sure why we've stopped when we're so close to the exit," Ealrin said out loud, more to himself than to Holve. He was really looking forward to seeing the sun and figuring out where they actually had walked to. He couldn't picture in his mind the map of Ruyn that Holve tried to describe to him. He was better at seeing with his own eyes.

  In no time at all Teresa had returned. She was no longer wearing a relieved look that promised sunshine, nor was she looking afraid of the cave either. Instead, she wore the look of determination that creased her brow and made her eyes glow.

  Something was wrong.

  "Holve, Gorplin wants you up at the mouth of the cave. You may as well come too, Ealrin. Goblins."

  ***

  Ealrin, Gorplin, Holve, Teresa, and Lote all lay on their bellies as they looked out of the mouth of the cave. What looked like five hundred goblins had made camp within a stone’s throw of where the survivors lay watching them. The sunlight filtered down from the tops of the trees that covered the base of the
mountain they had traveled under and stretched all the way to the edge of the ocean. From this distance, Ealrin could smell the sea. Gorplin and Holve estimated they were somewhere in-between Liaf and Loran on the southern coast of Thoran.

  The coast that was covered in goblins.

  Most had made some type of lean-to out of fallen branches and strips of raggedy cloth. Others had simply passed out underneath bushes and other shrubs. There was a lot of commotion going on in the camp, however, and it wasn’t because a group of humans, elves, and dwarves were all within reach. Four or five fights had broken out between goblins and around each were fifty or so others egging them on.

  They insulted the fighters and encouraged those they had placed bets on. From here Ealrin could see pots that goblins kept chucking gold bits into. Every now and then one of the spectators got drug into the fighting. Whether it was for a particularly nasty insult or betting against a fighter who took it personally, the fights continued to grow and became even rowdier.

  Ealrin wondered how any goblin general could convince another goblin to do anything.

  These were the strangest beasts, he thought.

  “Bah. Nothing to stop us from ridding this forest of their ilk,” said Gorplin as he began to rise from his position of observing, using his battle hammer to push himself up.

  “Hold on there, friend,” Holve said as he put a hand on Gorplin’s shoulder, urging him back down. “I’m sure that with your courage and skill we could rid ourselves of these pests, but I’m more curious about what these goblins are doing here, on the eastern side of Ruyn. They would have either had to sail all around the Southern Republic unhindered, or marched here without meeting any resistance. And I find it odd that they are positioned outside the very tunnel we traveled through.”