Tharn saw Alaezdar go down and he charged towards him, but when his horse bolted forward, Gartan slipped off the back behind him. Tharn turned around and saw Gartan rolling in the hard dirt. He stopped his horse and struggled briefly, trying to figure out who he should go after, but he noticed that because of the cloak Gartan wore, none of goblins or trolls saw him. Tharn immediately turned back towards Alaezdar. The pause was only a few seconds, but it was enough for the trolls and goblins to hone in on him. He was now the most visible and the slowest target.
Tharn looked up just in time to see arrows and spears fill the air in all directions around him. The only thing he could think of doing was stopping the horse and pulling it down on top of him. He grabbed the reins, turned the horse’s head, and brought her weight down on top of him. The weight was suffocating and he heard many of the spears and arrows hit their mark.
Gartan arrived as Tharn began to scratch and claw his away out from under the dead and bleeding horse. He grabbed Tharn’s hand and pulled, but the weight was too heavy.
“Leave me!” Tharn yelled to him.
Gartan took Tharn’s hand in both of his, knelt beside him, and began to hum from deep within his chest. Tharn felt his hand turn an icy hot that began to run from his hands down to his feet. Within a few seconds, he felt numb, but he noticed that the weight of the horse had become heavier.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Tharn yelled.
Before he realized what was happening, he looked at the dead horse and saw that it had turned into a block of ice and had begun to crack and fall apart around his body. Freeing himself, Tharn released Gartan’s hand and scrambled on to all fours for a few feet before rising to his feet and running. He only looked behind him to see that Rivlok was still on his horse, passing him, as he charged towards Alaezdar.
“Alaezdar, grab my hand!” Rivlok shouted as he approached Alaezdar.
Alaezdar saw Rivlok coming at great speed. He continued to run and only turned around when he knew that Rivlok was close enough to reach out to take his hand. Rivlok grabbed his hand and pulled with a swing to try to bring him to the back of his horse, but the speed and the weight of Alaezdar was too great. He let Alaezdar’s hand slip loose just before he was about to fall off of the horse himself. Alaezdar’s feet came off the ground from the speed of the horse and he fell onto the ground, hard on his chest.
Rivlok stopped and began to turn around when the goblins began to hone in on their now slow moving target. Arrows besieged Rivlok. Ten arrows pierced his horse and one sunk itself into his forearm. Rivlok shouted in pain and felt a new sense of fear -- a fear that adrenaline could not hide -- fill his being as the horse stumbled onto his forelegs. Rivlok rolled off and took cover behind his horse. Somehow, the animal wasn’t dead, but had only begun to panic trying to get away.
Alaezdar lay on the ground tasting dust and hearing the arrows pelt the ground all around him. He watched as Rivlok struggled with his terrified horse. Alaezdar feared all would be lost in this pass and panic began to set in. His vision blurred and seemed to turn white around the edges, as if he were entering a bright tunnel. Rolling onto his back and then again onto his stomach so as to remain a moving target, he tried to find some sort of shelter to hide in.
After dodging a few more arrows, he looked over to the side of the cliff for protection and he saw the cave.
“Tharn!” he yelled as he stood. “There, right there! Charge to the cave!”
Alaezdar noticed that Rivlok had also seen the cave and was already running towards it, leading his horse by the reins. The animal was still in a frightened panic. Morlonn also saw Rivlok running and assumed he had found the cave, so he ran towards him and pulled up beside him, all the while firing arrows randomly to provide cover as they both headed for the cave.
All five men now ran for the cave while the arrows and spears continued to rain upon them. When Rivlok and Tharn were only a few feet from the cave, they stopped abruptly at the entrance. It was barely three feet tall and three feet wide.
“This is the cave?” Rivlok cursed.
Arrows pelted the rocks around them. Morlonn fell to his stomach and crawled into the cave. Alaezdar and Tharn came running to the entrance and Tharn followed Morlonn in. Rivlok quickly unstrapped his bags from his horse and threw them towards the cave just as the goblins took a bead on him, a standing target now, and they pelted the horse with arrows. He took his bags and shaking his head in disgust and frustration, he crawled into the cave.
Alaezdar kicked the last bag back into the cave just as Rivlok’s feet disappeared and then he guided the horse between himself and the cave entrance. He took his knife out of his belt and sliced the horse’s throat. The horse’s eyes widened, and the animal jumped and grunted for a few seconds before losing its lifeblood and fell to its knees. While slipping himself into the hole, Alaezdar guided the horse down so that it provided a large block covering the cave entrance.
Once inside, they all crawled only a few feet until they found that they were in a wide circular area where they could stand, even though they had to bend over. Frantically they searched their bags in the darkness for their torches. Tharn found a torch with its wrapping first, and within a few minutes he found the oil. After he found the flint, he doused the torch with the oil and lit it.
As the light began to chase away the darkness, but not the shadows, the men found that they were surrounded by the walls of a cave which had been chipped away. Rough edges marked where axes or spears were used to chisel the cave by hand.
Rivlok walked over to Alaezdar and stood directly in front of him.
“Some cave we have here, Alaezdar!” he said and he leaned his head towards Alaezdar. “It doesn’t even look like it goes anywhere.”
“I told you I wasn’t sure if it was even here!” Alaezdar snapped back. He grabbed Rivlok’s tunic by the chest and pulled him to the ground face down. He rolled over on top of him and put his knee on his back and hissed into his ear. “Get into my face again, Rivlok, you had better be prepared to kill me!”
“Alaezdar! Rivlok!” Morlonn yelled. “Knock it off. We have to get together on this or we are just going to die. It won’t take long for the goblins to figure out where we are.”
“That’s right,” Tharn added. “We only have a few minutes to figure out a way deeper into this cavern before they find us, so you two need to put your dislike for each other aside for now!”
“How do suppose we do that, with Alaezdar’s knee in my back?” Rivlok asked.
“Wait…” Morlonn interrupted.
Alaezdar stood up, turned Rivlok loose, and drew his sword.
“I heard it too,” he said.
The five of them stood silently while they listened. The sound of footsteps worked towards them from behind one rock wall. Whoever or whatever it was, they really were not trying to be all that quiet. It sounded as if they were dragging their feet instead of stealthily walking through the cavernous tunnels.
“Well, there you go, Rivlok,” Alaezdar whispered. “It looks to me this tunnel does go deeper than we can see.”
They waited in silence, not moving for many minutes as the sound of the dragging feet became louder. A piece of the cavern wall suddenly moved inward and two sets of red, beady eyes reflected in the torchlight coming from behind the now open wall.
“Hello…?” came a voice from the shadows.
“We want no harm,” came another, slightly similar voice.
“Come out of the shadows and show yourself!” Alaezdar commanded.
Out of the darkness came two short, stocky figures. They had noses that looked like sticks that extended from behind their large round eyes. Their eyes went inward and were unnaturally close to their stick-like long nose.
A small horn protruded from the top of the head of each, not centered, but slightly askew to the right. It was so small and off centered that it looked more like a large bump than a horn. They had hair all over their bodies and had on very little but tattered clothing.
They looked like dead animals that had just clawed their way out of a deep grave.
“Chroks!” Alaezdar gasped, disgusted at the site of them.
Chapter 19
The watch along the outer perimeter for the Fortress of Blade at Daevanwood, home to Rager’s House of Renegades, was never a warrior’s favorite mission. In fact, though the most skilled men took the position, it was given to them as punishment or was drawn unluckily in a lottery if no punishments were to be served at the time. The guards who watched the outer perimeter were vulnerable to sneak attacks from raiders on route to the castle. The watch was their primary purpose in the fortress’s protection.
Men on the watch had to be prepared at any moment for such attacks, and any lag in their duties could mean instant death from an attacking scout silently attempting to clear the castle guards before the main raiding party launched their attack. Because of this those on watch had to keep a clear head, open ears and keen eyes. They had to know the territory and use every, bush, tree and rock to their advantage. It became a hated duty because Daevanwood itself was such a hated province and township and held in great contempt by the other kingdoms throughout the Known Lands.
Commander Carsti Balron, one of the main leaders of the City of Renegades was known throughout the land, and his success in surviving without the protection of a kingdom made many land hungry, tax-collecting kings envious and red with anger, especially since his fortress was highly protected by bands of the exiled or unwanted characters of the land.
The occupants of Daevanwood swarmed the streets as the unwanted thieves, wizards, rogues, warriors, merciless mercenaries and assassins who had been banned from other kingdoms, never to return. These low life types of inhabitants ruled the streets and had vowed to protect the city and not destroy their own so that they would always have a home to go to after their subversive work was done within those same kingdoms that would not have them.
Even with all the training these men received before standing the watch, the actual event was never easy. The animals in the woods stirred at awkward moments, and even a light breeze between the forests could sound like an army of men.
Of course, there were other dangers as well.
One could never be at ease from the larger animals or beasts of prey that lurked within the dark thick woods that surrounded the fortress. One could not predict when a band of stray goblins or gronts would come trouncing through the forests in search of treasures or for sacrifices for their religious ceremonies. These beasts, though uncommon to the area, often traveled across any land in the name of their annual cultic celebrations.
These thoughts crossed the minds of many perimeter watch men duly informed of any and all such dangers beforehand, including Deriyn, who now hid in the shadows of the moonlight shinning high in the sky above the dark fortress.
He looked toward its dark and ominous silhouette as it towered above the trees and wished he’d been posted as a guard anywhere within the walls instead of being out in the woods with the creatures and dangers of the land. He began to think of his home and his family, who lived just outside the city limits of Daevanwood, when he heard a noise that made his heart jump and his pulse quicken. It was a noise like the sound of a bush being moved by a hard wind, but no wind blew tonight. He had hoped that it was a deer, or a fox, or something harmless, at least.
Silently he withdrew his sword and hid behind the closest bush. If possible, he would first try not to be discovered, but if he was, he would fight to the death.
The noise was getting louder and closer, he could tell from the volume, whoever or whatever it was obviously did not care about being discovered.
The moonlight soon provided Deriyn with the silhouette of a man, a soldier.
“Deriyn. I know you are near,” the man whispered as he passed by, not seeing Deriyn.
Deriyn stepped out from the tree he was hiding behind and stood in back of the clumsy lurking soldier. He sheathed his sword.
“What are you after, your death?” Deriyn asked caustically.
“I’m bored,” Gharz stated flatly. “Besides, no one will be bothering us tonight. It is too quiet and I need to talk.”
“It’s too dangerous to be out talking. This is how we are going to get ourselves killed if we don’t get back to our post.”
“Post? You know that we have no specific post. The whole forest is our post tonight.”
“Still, we should not be this close together. It ruins the structure of... Wait, did you hear that?” Deriyn stopped talking when he heard another sound off in the distance.
“Sounds like a horse,” Deriyn said as he withdrew his sword again from its scabbard. This time quickly and not as quietly as he had done the first time. “It’s coming from the road and by the sound of it, he is riding fast. Quick, get ready to light the signal. I’ll go to the road to see if I can get a look at him as he passes. If he gets to the castle before our signal, Commander Balron will surely have our heads.”
Deriyn ran swiftly, but noisily to the road, thrashing his scabbard and pack against the trees and bushes as he ran. While Deriyn ran off in the distance, Gharz prepared the bow. Its arrows all had phosphorous tips and each arrow had a different color to alert the guards of the castle to different things.
Gharz withdrew an arrow with a green tip to signify a single rider and then waited for Deriyn’s signal to be sure. Deriyn made it to the road just seconds before the rider rode past him with great speed and without caution. After seeing the rider, Deriyn ran back to Gharz to inform him.
“Just one!” he said, out of breath.
Gharz lit the tip of the arrow with his pocket flint, strung the arrow as it caught on fire and let it fly. A bright green light streaked across the sky towards the castle.
Atop the wall of the fortress, two guards saw the arrow peak in the sky and then fall to the ground in front of the castle. It burned out as quickly as it had touched the ground.
“Go! Now!” one of the men guarding the wall said to his subordinate and sent him running to the watch commander. The man ran across the battlement and over to the commander’s tower that overlooked the forested valley.
“Single rider sir, unannounced,” Pilter gasped, out of breath, to the watch commander.
“How long ago was the signal sent?” Sergeant Mourt asked impatiently.
“Only moments ago,” he said. He turned to face First Warrior Konrod.
“An unannounced rider is coming towards the castle,” Sergeant Mourt told him. “I am on my way down to the gate to greet him. I wanted to inform you so that the watch relief may know of the upcoming situation.”
“Very well, carry on, and keep me updated.”
Sergeant Mourt gave a brisk salute and left for the gate before First Warrior Konrod could return his salute.
Reaching the gate, Sergeant Mourt was surprised to find that the rider had already reached it and was arguing with the guard. The guard saw Sergeant Mourt approach, relieved to see that help had arrived.
“Sergeant Mourt, could you please explain to this beggar that I cannot let him through.”
Sergeant Mourt looked at the rider, obviously tired from what seemed to have been a long strenuous ride. His clothes were soiled and worn, and the dirt upon them was sun dried. It was obvious to Mourt that the rider had not even attempted to wash off the dirt for what could’ve been weeks. His red hair was a long, oily and tangled mess. His horse’s hair was wet with sweat and the animal looked near d
eath with exhaustion.
“What is your business?” Sergeant Mourt demanded firmly.
“I wish to see Commander Carsti Balron,” Kunther said. He looked to the ground, too exhausted to hold his head erect.
“Unannounced?” he asked incredulously.
“I have come a long way to see him, sir, I cannot turn back now.”
“I can tell that you have come a long way, son. I can smell you from here. But if I let every stranger into this protected fortress wanting to see High Commander Balron, how long do you think he would be alive?”
“I realize your position, sir, but I have a message for him, and I need the services of Rager’s House of Renegades.”
Sergeant Mourt smiled. “Well, this is getting better and better by the minute. But you still cannot see our commander, nor hire the services of Rager’s House of Renegades, unless you can give me a very good reason to justify your passing, and I don’t think you can come up with one that good, if I am to be honest.”
Kunther looked into the eyes of Sergeant Mourt and saw that the man seemed adamant in his position, but he tried again.
“But my village, family, and friends are in grave danger and I have large amounts of gold and even dragon pieces to pay for services, not to mention the message I must give him that I know he will find most worthy of his time.”
“If this message will interest him, then you can give me the message and I will relay your words to him.”
Kunther straightened up in his saddle and raised his voice to address him further.
“I cannot give my message to anyone else but High Commander Carsti Balron!”
Sergeant Mourt took two steps towards the horse and looked blazingly into Kunther’s’ eyes.
The Warrior's Bane (War for the Quarterstar Shards Book 1) Page 25
