The Rising Past: Book 2 in The Keepers of the Orbs Series

by J. G. Gatewood

  It’s about time. I started to think he’d decided not to help us. Get me to the ground, Raythum said, although he felt relieved.

  Patience, my friend. I think we should give your brother a few moments to clear out some of the guards first.

  She flew within the confines of the rather large shield and grabbed Kahloom soldiers in her large jaws. Raythum could feel her exuberance and had to admit he felt the same thrill himself. This was, after all, the first time all day they had had any kind of an advantage.

  He began to grow impatient as he waited for his brother to finish his assault. He spotted several shields over the enemy forces, and knew the witch doctors had taken their own defensive measures. Tirell’s attack would be useless now, and Raythum just hoped his brother realized it.

  After several minutes, the skies cleared with the departure of the firestorm and lightning. The Dragons took the opportunity to fly toward the ground. When they were close enough, the riders jumped from their mounts and charged toward the enemy with weapons drawn. Morlidon raised his bow and pulled back on the strings, releasing arrows in a flurry. A rhythmic tink, tink, tink sound filled the air with each release of the bowstring.

  Raythum wasted little time and charged toward the guards. He thought of the innocent lives lost today, and let his frustration free in the way of his attacks. He held nothing back and attacked anything moving within his vicinity. The three remaining recruits flanked him and took on enemies of their own.

  Tirell’s attack cleared out hundreds of the guards, but hundreds still stood between him and the command tents. The Dragons kept up with their assistance, grabbing Kahloom with their teeth, and breathing fire in large swaths to help create a pathway.

  The tallest Kahloom bore down on Raythum. He swung his buckler and smashed into Raythum’s head, sending him staggering backwards. Raythum regained his balance and swung his own sword, but it only hit air as he missed. A high-pitched screech filled the air as Milenthia’s teeth closed on the Kahloom’s head. She spit it in the direction of the command tents.

  They continued to progress and noticed none of the commanders were indoors any longer. They came out and fought for their lives alongside their soldiers. The commanders were dressed in extravagant armor and large conical helmets.

  Raythum yelled to the others. “The armored soldiers, they are the commanders. We must get to them!” He waved his hand urging them forward.

  They charged with the help of the Dragons, amidst curses and arrows. Fireballs streamed forward on either side of them and the Dragons dropped down in front, flying low to the ground and creating a clear path.

  Morlidon had his bow trained on the commanders who wore the most extravagant armor. The Dragons landed, surrounding them and crushing several soldiers as their feet met the ground. Raythum ran forward, sword and shield at the ready.

  “Throw down your weapons and you’ll be spared,” Raythum ordered.

  His words didn’t stop the guards who still ran forward.

  Raythum turned and faced the oncoming soldiers. “I said, drop your weapons!” he yelled.

  A calming voice filled his head. They don’t understand you.

  Of course they don’t. Raythum thought to himself. They’re from a different continent, this isn’t their native tongue.

  He turned to the others. “Any of you speak Khalimi? I don’t think we’ll make any progress if we can’t understand one another.”

  Morlidon walked forward. “I learned a little during my training to become an emissary. You see I wanted to travel all around Nithor…” He picked up on Raythum’s impatience. “I’m sure I can get by,” he shrugged.

  Raythum couldn’t believe the Elf had started going into a story. They didn’t have time for this and he looked relieved when Morlidon picked up on his frustration. “Good, I’ll let you do the talking for me then. Get them to drop their weapons and we won’t harm them.”

  Morlidon translated. He bellowed to get the attention of the incoming soldiers, as well as the commanders. “Put down you weapons and you won’t be harmed.”

  The rushing soldiers slowed down their pace as they heard their native tongue—although butchered and primitive with none of the flowing grace they were accustomed to. One of the commanders—the one wearing the shiniest and cleanest armor, with large red feathers serving as a large and ridiculous plume—stepped forward.

  “Why should we believe you? We’ve had no issues with the Humans and Elves before today, but the Dwarves are a traitorous race who robbed my ancestors many generations ago. They would turn their backs on their word to suit their own needs and we are here to exact our revenge.” Morlidon translated.

  The Kahloom soldiers all stopped their approach and awaited further orders.

  “The Dwarves are our allies. As such, they sought out our assistance. We didn’t come to your land and attack you for no reason. Throw down your arms and no further harm will come your way. You have it on the word of the Ferrindale Elves and the prince of Havenbrook,” Morlidon said into the expectant silence.

  The Kahloom general opened his helm revealing his face. “Your titles mean nothing to me. You stand with our enemy, which makes you our enemy. Stand aside or prepare to feel the cool steel of my blade as it penetrates your soft flesh,” he snarled.

  Morlidon turned to Raythum and shrugged before responding. “Have you looked around? We have you surrounded. Are you so set on revenge you’re willing to embrace your own death?”

  “Death doesn’t scare me and getting my revenge will give me honor. My children and my children’s children will sing songs of my brave deeds. Besides, have you looked around? We have you outnumbered. Sure you might kill me, or even some of my commanders,” he spit, “but my soldiers will continue to fight on. They won’t rest until they are well within the confines of Drognard and have plundered the Dwarves…as they plundered us so long ago.”

  Morlidon turned and translated the conversation for Raythum, providing a brief overview. “It appears diplomatic tactics won’t work.”

  Raythum looked disappointed. He hated the death and carnage surrounding him and had hoped they could talk their way out of the current predicament. “I guess we are left with little choice.” He scanned the faces of the soldiers surrounding them. They didn’t wear the same look as their commander. They displayed no joy, or excitement on any of their faces. Just from appearances, Raythum thought he would be hard-pressed to find any of the soldiers shared in their commander’s view of the situation.

  “Very well. You can tell him we will continue to fight.” Raythum turned to another Elven rider and whispered. “As soon as Morlidon begins his translation of my words, I want you to fire an arrow and kill the general. I hate to do it this way, but I don’t see that we have any other choice.”

  The Elf looked confused. He pondered the words for a moment and picked up on Raythum’s plan. “I see. Cut off the head and hope the body dies.” He suppressed a grin.

  “Exactly. I wanted a more diplomatic resolution; hopefully this will bring that about.”

  Morlidon turned and faced the Kahloom. He began to speak as Raythum instructed. His words were enough of a distraction no one noticed when the Elf raised his bow and let loose an arrow with a thunk. The arrow cut through the air, whistling as it passed by Morlidon and sunk deep into the general’s throat all the way to the fletchings.

  The eyes of the Kahloom general opened wide; his words came out in a gurgle. Blood flowed from the wound and trickled out from his lips. He reached up to the wound unbelieving of what happened. He sank to his knees and tried to speak one last time, before he fell forward and crumpled to the ground, snapping the shaft of the arrow.

  Morlidon addressed the remainder of the commanders. “That was most unfortunate. Anyone else wish to continue this fight? I repeat, lay down your arms and no one will be harmed.”

  The commanders sent a signal, which spread through the ranks. A horn sent out three long, mournful and low blasts. The soldiers on the wall s
topped fighting and peered to the south, awaiting further word.

  The commander who initiated the signal walked forward. “I’m General T’Kahl and I have ordered a cease fire. I expect you to honor your word.”

  Morlidon translated for Raythum. “Tell him we will escort him to Yordrinn and determine our next course of action, but we will honor the cease fire with integrity.”

  Morlidon relayed the message to the general, who agreed and mounted his horse. Raythum issued his orders, starting with the Elven rider. “I will need Morlidon to translate, but I need you to stay here with the other riders and keep an eye on the situation. Morlidon and I will escort the general, and two of his associates to the wall to parlay with Yordrinn.” The Elf nodded his understanding and T’Kahl selected two other armored Kahloom to escort him after Morlidon translated the orders.

  Raythum and Morlidon mounted their Dragons and marched with T’Kahl back to the wall. The Kahloom soldiers spread out and cleared a path upon their approach. Raythum looked to the sky, noticing for the first time how late the day had stretched. The sun had moved far to the east and dusk would soon be upon them. His muscles ached and his energy waned. He turned to the others and assumed they were facing the same difficulties. It’d been, after all, a very long afternoon.

  They climbed the rubble leading to the top of the wall and felt the heavy weight of probing eyes from enemy and allied soldiers alike. Raythum searched the wall for the Dwarven general. He spotted him on the eastern edge and made eye contact with him. Yordrinn made his way over.

  As he neared, Raythum noticed the look of wariness and apprehension he wore. “General Yordrinn, I would like to introduce you to General T’Kahl of the Kahloom. He has agreed to a conversation in the hopes of a diplomatic and amicable solution to end this feud. I have given my word that none of the Kahloom soldiers will be harmed while we work through our differences,” he said the last phrase loudly, hoping the message would reach the rest of the allied soldiers.

  Yordrinn raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “How’d you get them to agree? I know I wouldn’t have if situations were reversed. I would want my revenge.”

  “The first commander shared your view, but I could tell others didn’t, so we nudged them a little to encourage a meeting. But we can discuss the details of those matters later. For now, we have more important matters to attend to.”

  Yordrinn turned toward T’Kahl and bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you general.”

  Morlidon translated the greeting and replied to the message for T’Kahl. Raythum noticed slight movement from behind Yordrinn. He shifted his feet for a better view, and spotted a large Kahloom soldier inching closer to the Dwarf. Raythum didn’t know what to make of it and moved ever so slightly to keep his eye on the soldier.

  Unaware, Yordrinn continued. “Let me be the first to apologize for any pain or harm my ancestors may have caused you. While it may have been a long time ago, I can understand your position and your desire for revenge. The Dwarves are known for holding a grudge too. I’m just thankful you’re willing to seek out an alternative…”

  The Kahloom soldier bent to the ground and picked up a discarded short sword. He let out a cry from his lips and charged toward Yordrinn. Raythum grabbed a dagger from his belt and flung it toward the running soldier. The dagger tumbled end-over-end and plunged half the length of the blade into the skull of the Kahloom. The soldier tripped and stumbled over his legs, crashing to the ground. Several Dwarves surrounded Yordrinn, and the Kahloom did the same around T’Kahl.

  ‘STOP! There will be no more blood shed on this day!” T’Kahl yelled through clenched teeth. “If anyone else uses a weapon, I will kill them myself.” He turned to Yordrinn and Raythum. “Please accept my apologies. I figured they would’ve listened the first time I ordered them at ease. I’m glad the prince here has quick reflexes.” He seemed to ease his shoulders. “You were saying?”

  Yordrinn appeared shaken. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the would-be-attacker’s approach. “Yes, I…err…I was saying…did that just happen?” He turned to Raythum. “I’m indebted to you. I owe you my life.” He shook his limbs to bring life back into them before turning back to T’Kahl. “I’m grateful you’re willing to discuss the matters of the past. It’s my hope the Dwarves can find some way to pay you back for the wrongs committed by our ancestors without more bloodshed.”

  T’Kahl considered his words before responding. “I hope we can come to a resolution so we can prevent any further death on this day.”

  “That is my hope as well,” Yordrinn replied. “We must travel to Drognard so I may present you to High Clan Chief, Ulor. I’m sure he’ll have much to say to you.” He turned to Raythum, although it pained him. What he needed to ask didn’t excite him in the least. “May I ask your assistance to get us into Drognard using a convenient and quick method?”

  It took Raythum a moment to understand what they asked of him. The meaning dawned on him. What do you think, Milenthia? Can we give them a lift to Drognard for a meeting with Ulor?

  If a Dragon could smile, Milenthia would’ve been. She understood how much Dwarves hated any kind of mount. They only trusted their feet to convey them from place to place. I think it’d be wise and amusing, she slid the last in surreptitiously.

  “We would be happy to get you off your feet, if only for a little while,” Raythum said with a wide grin on his face.

  T’Kahl agreed to the journey and the conveyance they’d use to speed up the process. Both sides released their troops to their own camps for the evening and the Dragons readied for the quick trip to Drognard. Yordrinn elected to sit with Raythum, and T’Kahl rode with Morlidon. Tension and uneasiness filled the ranks; it’d only take one small move to incite an eruption. The tension loomed thick and almost palpable.

  With both sides retired for the evening, they took off and flew toward Drognard. The sun passed over the eastern horizon, and the temperature plummeted—all yearned for the warmth of the city as they sped to their destination.

  The journey took a matter of minutes and the bright orange glow of the fires warming the entrance to the mountain greeted them as the evening transitioned into twilight. They landed inside the cave and several Dwarven guards who looked both surprised and apprehensive ran over, offering their assistance. One of them helped Yordrinn in his attempt to dismount Milenthia. He looked uncomfortable and out of sorts.

  Yordrinn brushed the guard aside. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of their new guest. “Send word ahead of our intentions for a council with chief Ulor.”

  The guard spoke to a young Dwarf whose duties were that of a messenger. He listened and ran down the tunnel ahead of them.

  Yordrinn turned to T’Kahl. “It’s but a short walk to Drognard. If you’ll follow me, we’ll soon be surrounded by the warmth and beauty of my home.”

  Before following the Dwarf who scampered down through the tunnel, Raythum asked Morlidon to tell T’Kahl to remove his helm. “The tunnels were designed for Dwarves and are hard enough to navigate without the extra burden of armor. Given the height of the Kahloom, I think they’ll find the tunnels impassable.”

  T’Kahl and his guards removed their helmets. He nodded his head in thanks to Raythum, before following Yordrinn down the tunnel.

  The walk went by quickly and Raythum could tell how grateful the Kahloom were for the warning about their helms. They craned their necks and ducked at several points during the walk. Raythum didn’t even think about it any longer, as he now felt quite used to the tight space.

  The familiar scents and smells of Drognard greeted them, as the tunnel opened to the city. Raythum’s mouth salivated as the savory aromas assaulted his senses. He smelled roast duck and pig, thick in the air.

  The Kahloom stared in awe at the vast expanse of the inside of the mountain. The city stood before them and bustled with activity. Word had already spread of the current state of the battle, and many of the Dwarven citizens seemed eager to get their fir
st look at the foreign Kahloom. They must have made an interesting group—Dwarves, Humans, Elves and Kahloom—all walking through Drognard because they received several long, probing stares.

  They made their way through town, and crossed the wooden bridge over a chasm carrying them to the entrance of the large audience chamber. They climbed the large, stone staircase and walked through the thick, wooden doors. Ulor already sat on his large seat positioned atop the dais sitting in the front of the chamber. He looked deep in conversation with several Dwarves, who all looked up when footfalls echoed through the room. Dwarven guards directed the party to a row of benches sitting just in front of the dais. Ulor continued his conversation as the party took their seat. He finished and stared at all of them, making the entire situation feel uncomfortable.

  Raythum sat and waited for their opportunity to speak. He hoped they could come to terms.

  A Well-timed Distraction

  The Dwarves flanking Ulor on the dais finished their conversation and took their seats opposite him. The high clan chief rapped his large scepter on the floor, calling attention to the meeting.

  The old Dwarf rubbed his bald, shiny head and stroked his long brown mustache before speaking. He addressed Raythum. It seemed as though Raythum had built up a large level of trust with the leader of the Dwarves. He had expected Yordrinn to do most of the talking and felt a little unprepared.

  “Raythum, it is a pleasure to see you again so soon. I understand there have been some interesting developments during the course of today’s battle. Would you care to elaborate for me?”