by Rick Brown
Marcus and I entered a large office. A graphic painting of a human sacrifice hung on one wall. Opposite the art sat a priest of Gorath. He was just sitting in his chair behind a desk, staring at us. I smiled to myself as I noticed no other chairs were in the room. Oh, these were my kind of people. Making the guests stand.
“Lord Hannen. Captain Hannen,” the priest greeted as he rose from his seat. “I am High Priest Grenlow, servant of Gorath. I have been eager to speak with you.”
“Eager!” I yelled, as my façade briefly dropped. “I have been stuck in a room with my son for days!”
The priest looked at me with his dark eyes. At first, I worried that I had gone too far, but then he smiled. “My apologies, My Lord. We have been busy. I hope the delay has not caused you too much grief.”
“Ahh… no,” I said as I attempted to regain myself. “Just an inconvenience.”
“Of course,” the priest said as he continued his smile. A smile that seemed so out of place. It put me out of sorts more than any other tactic they used.
“So,” the priest said, his smile dropping, “tell me, why did our attack on the King fail?”
“Why? That was your fault, you and your priests. I got them in, just as I had promised. They were not able to defeat the King’s magic user,” I stated.
Grenlow shook his head. “There is no magic user as strong as my priests, my Lord Hannen. The three we sent that night should have been more than sufficient. Now, I have to waste resources hunting this magic user down.”
“I can’t explain the failings of others,” I argued. “Your priest shot a flame at Eberon and his men, and he just waved it away.”
High Priest Grenlow sat quietly and stared at me. “Eberon, did you say?”
“Yes, Lee Eberon. He claims to be the true King of Alsselya. It was all just an excuse for King Kendrick to harass Marcus and me.”
“How did he stop the fire?” the priest questioned.
"I don't know. I don't trust magic users. I know nothing about it. Your man shot fire from his hand, and it was just blocked somehow before reaching Eberon."
“He’s a magic user, it’s the only reason he was able to beat me,” Marcus said for the thousandth time.
The priest walked around his desk to stand before me. It was a mistake in dominance tactics, as I towered over him. “Did he do any other magic?” Grenlow asked, his fetid breath blowing into my face.
“Well,” I said as I leaned back uncomfortably. Vile breath was not a tactic I would attempt to dominate someone, but I could now see its effectiveness. “He floated around the room, even carried the King with him.”
The priest stepped back, staring blankly at a wall. “Is it possible one lived?” I heard him mumble to himself.
“One lived?” I asked.
“An Eberon!” The priest snapped. “We believed them all wiped out when we took Ealinhart. Could one have escaped and passed on its lineage?”
“So,” I said smiling. “This is your fault, you and your people. I did my job perfectly.”
Once again, Grenlow gave us his wicked smiled. “Of course, thank you for pointing that out. Well, let’s see. What would an Eberon do if trying to retake his kingdom? He would need the stone, of course, which explains why the magic user went to the elves. Where I assume, he still is. It is winter in those mountains, after all.
“Next, would be the sword. Were he wise, he would travel through Vaelin and Spellion. Eberon’s, however, are arrogant people. No, he will try to cut across Alsselya.”
High Priest Grenlow frowned. “The dwarves. I have not been able to secure as strong a hold on them as I would like. Oh, they say the right things, but once out of sight, they do just as they like. I do not trust that they won’t hand over the sword. No, we must find other means to stop him, before he gets the sword.”
Grenlow then turned and smiled at me. “I have a plan. One that you and your son can assist with.”
It was my turn to frown. “Assist? We have done our assisting. We are here for our reward!”
"Of course, I should appreciate more what you have done for us. Please, follow me, and I shall impart your reward."
Finally, I thought. The priest led us from the room following yet more twisted hallways. The halls became darker as we traveled. Seeing fewer and fewer others along the way. Grenlow turned and led us down a spiral staircase. We descended so deep, I could only assume we were now well underground.
“Forgive the walk, gentlemen, but such rewards must be kept away from the common priests.” I looked at Marcus, and we both grinned to each other.
Finally, we came to a large door, which had a massive lock on it. Grenlow reached into his robe and pulled out a key, unlocking what I assumed to be a vault. Inside, however, was not as I expected.
Instead of gold and gems, there were long doctor’s tables. It looked more like a scientist’s lab than a bank. As we entered, four enormous wolves that were penned up in the corner started howling and snapping in our direction.
“Do not fear, I have total control of them,” Grenlow said as he walked to the cage.
“What is this Grenlow? Where is our reward?” I demanded.
“It is High Priest Grenlow!” He said, almost in a snarl. Suddenly I felt some invisible force ensnare me. I looked to Marcus, to see he was similarly bound.
"Your reward is coming, Lord Hannen. I offer you everlasting life." With that, he opened the cage to release one of the beasts. "This is a werewolf. He was once an old friend of mine, until he disappointed me," High Priest Grenlow explained. "So, I transformed him into an obedient pet, one that will live forever under my control. Sadly, he has lost what humanity he had. Now, he is just a dumb beast."
Then the priest turned and looked at me. “I now require a new leader for my pack. One that, once bitten, will still maintain some intelligence, at least for a little while. Until his humanity fades.”
“No! If you do this, I shall turn on you!” I threatened as I vainly fought against the binds that held me.
Grenlow laughed. “Oh, your will to harm me shall be gone. You will happily do whatever I ask. Gorath will see to that.” With that he stepped forward, pulling a dagger with a ruby in its pommel from his robe. With a quick slash, he cut a bloody slice into my arm, and then did the same with Marcus.
“The cut does two things. It imparts some magic from Gorath, guaranteeing your obedience, and also, it will keep the werewolf’s bite from killing you,” he calmly explained.
As he said this, I could feel pain radiating up my arm. At the same time, there was a paralysis sweeping over me. Grenlow stepped forward and started examining my eyes.
“Yes, I think you are just about ready. Once you have transformed, it will be your job to hunt down Eberon and stop him before he reaches the dwarves. As werewolves, you will only be able to hunt at night, that’s when Gorath strength is at its highest. His magic will make you invincible. Avoid the sun, for it will cause you harm.”
High Priest Grenlow then turned to the giant wolf. “Ok, now it’s your turn.”
The beast growled as it started to approach.
Chapter 4
(Lee)
“We shall miss you, Your Highness,” Councilor Nenelin lamented as I threw my bag over my shoulder. “I fear your short time with us will leave you with a poor impression of our people.”
I smiled at him. "Do not worry. I hold the elves in very high esteem. Your son does much for your reputation."
The Councilor smiled. "Indeed, and he thinks very highly of you. I confess I was concerned when I asked him to take my place as the Ambassador to Alsselya. He had so little experience with humans, most of it hunting down Dommerians. I am pleased it has worked out so well."
“Hopefully, we will be able to visit again before the war,” I said to the aged Councilor. Turning, I looked back over my shoulder to the others. “Is everyone ready? Ok, Whilhoit and Farloc take the lead. Goodbye, Councilor.”
Before we could take more than a few s
teps, Zarcharus came running up the path. “King Eberon! I apologize for being late to seeing you off. I wish you to know, I have volunteered to lead the elves into battle when the war comes. You can count on us.”
Looking at the young elf, I had to smile. It was only a month ago that I had healed his gut wound. Even with my healing, he had a lot to recover from. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Zarcharus. You have been a good friend.” I felt sorry for the elf. In the elven society, he took on much of the burden of his father’s sins. I knew his volunteering to lead their army was a way to compensate for that.
Waving goodbye, we started down the path that led to the southern pass in the Veluvian Mountains.
It took a week of uneventful travel to get to Lord Faluth's estate. After greeting a very surprised Lord Faluth and Jacob, we bought a pony for Orlik to ride and left the next day for Alsselya. Following along the lower edge of the mountain, we traveled east. For days we followed the cedar forests that lined the mountainside.
All along the way, I could feel Alynon’s Tear tug on my energy. Not that it was putting a strain on my power, but just skimming off the top. Every once in a while, I would take it out and look into its polished surface. It really was beautiful.
“Here you go, girl,” Abigail cooed as she leaned forward to give Dreamer another piece of carrot.
“You’re going to spoil that horse,” Whilhoit warned.
“And what if I do, what happens then?” She asked.
“Well… I don’t know. It’ll get fat or something,” he replied uncertainly.
“Nothing will happen. She’ll hardly get fat while we are riding all day. You’re just worried your horse will get jealous.”
Whilhoit looked dumbfounded. “Jealous? How does a horse get jealous?”
“Considering who’s handing them out, I wouldn’t mind being hand fed some carrots,” I joked.
She looked back and winked at me. “I’ll be sure to save you a bite.”
“A bite,” I sighed. “I guess I’ll always come in second to that horse.”
"You just ignore them, Dreamer. They're just stinky warriors."
“Watch who you lump in there,” Bri defended. “I may be a warrior, but I certainly don’t stink.”
“Girls are excluded, of course,” Abigail agreed. “Us girls have to stick together, don’t we Dreamer.”
“Orlik,” Barad called out. “The land seems to be opening up some here. Are we far from the border?”
“Ya guessed it, Lad. I suspect we’ll be crossing into Alsselya by this afternoon,” he answered.
“Well, I can’t wait,” Ryan said excitedly. “I’ve read so much about Alsselya. Finally, I’ll get to see it.”
“Whatcha read in them books was ‘bout ancient Alsselya, a wealthy kingdom that were well managed for centuries. I do no envy Lee in tryin’ to recover from what Dommeran has done to it,” Orlik explained.
“Well, that sounds cheery,” Barad moaned. “I guess we won’t be wealthy in our lifetime.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said with a smile. “Alynon hinted that he had assigned a protector to Alsselya’s wealth.”
“A protector? What protector?” Orlik asked.
“A dragon. He said he directed a beast to Alsselya’s wealth before the Dommerian’s could take it.”
Orlik laughed so hard he almost fell from the saddle. "A dragon?" He asked as he wiped away a tear, still laughing. "There's no taking gold from a dragon once it's got it, Lad. Those beasts do love anything shiny. It'll be packed in the back of its cave ne'er be seen again. Teams of fortune-seeking dwarves and humans alike have tried to kill a dragon fer it’s wealth, none ever returned. They be dumb, but vicious. You’d be better off trying to start from scratch.”
“It’s just a big lizard,” Barad pointed out. “How hard can it be?”
“You Vaelinian’s have no idea, do ya? We dwarves have been battling dragons for as long as we existed. They be hunting in Spellion lands as well, taking people and livestock alike for their food. Tearing up any village it wants, just for a snack. If we could figure a way to kill ‘em, don’t ya think we would?” Orlik asked. “No, there be no way through that hide. Might as well be made of armor.”
“That kind of sounds like what Ayisha said,” I admitted. “She didn’t seem pleased about Alynon’s choice, but apparently time was of the essence.”
“So, can we get the gold or not?” Ryan asked.
“Alynon believes we can, with the sword,” I answered.
“Then, we must have faith in Alynon,” Father Yagen stated.
“Aye,” Orlik agreed. “And Alynon may be right too. I wouldn’t have thought so with your ancestors, but Lee, you be stronger than them, you with that sword together might just pull it off.”
“And we’ll help,” Abigail volunteered.
Barad shrugged. “Why not, I’ve never fought a dragon before. Do you think Lord Faluth would like the head mounted for his wall?”
Orlik laughed. “The head could be the wall. These be no small lizards. Their wingspan can be the length of a city block, their heads the size of wagons. They can breathe fire from their gullets. Nasty beasts, all of them.”
“If they can’t be killed, why aren’t we overrun by them?” Ryan asked.
“Because, they kill each other,” Orlik answered. “A male will kill any young he finds that are no his own. What’s an amazing sight is when you see two males fighting for territory. Mind you, you’d better be watching from a distance. They’ll fight to the death and are no careful of what’s around them. I’ve seen whole mountainsides turned to rubble from a fight.”
“So, basically a beast the size of a manor, with a head the size of a wagon. Oh, and breaths fire,” Barad summarized. “Did you mention teeth?”
“No, I do no think I did. Teeth the size of a leg, your leg, not mine,” Orlik said.
“I see, and teeth as long as my leg,” Barad added. “Well, that will be exciting.”
"No use worrying about it now. We don't even have the sword yet," I reminded.
After crossing a shallow river later that day, Orlik announced we had entered Alsselya. The mountains now looming behind us as we moved onto flat lands. The Alsselyian side of the river looked no different than the Vaelin side, but somehow it felt like home. The cedars of the mountain transitioned into a deciduous forest of old oak trees, now sitting bare in winter.
It was after a week of travel through the forest that we suddenly exited out onto a road. Orlik turned to me. "Well, what do ya want to do? Continue hacking through the trees or follow the road?”
I looked up and down the road, weighing the risk. “If we keep traveling through the forest, we will never get there. We’ll have to risk the roads and hope we can blend in with other travelers.”
"Maybe we can find an inn?" Abi wondered wistfully.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t,” Brianna added. “After all, even Dommerians have to travel.”
Brianna’s statement ended up being prophetic, as we came to an inn that afternoon. I rode up next to Orlik, who had stopped just out of view of the inn. “What do ya think?” He asked.
“Doesn’t look busy. I say we risk it. We might be able to buy some food as well,” I answered. Tapping my horse Mabel, I rode forward and into the inn courtyard. The inn itself looked to had once been grand, but the years and lack of maintenance have given it a worn-down appearance.
As I rode up, two boys came rushing forward. “Take your horses, My Lord?”
“Thank you,” I said as I climbed down. “Take good care of them.” I passed each of the boys a copper.”
“Thank you, My Lord. We’ll take good care of them.”
The interior of the inn wasn’t any better than the outside. The floor tiles had cracks while some other tiles were just missing. There were chunks of plaster ceiling that had fallen away to reveal the planks from the floor above. Most of the room was dark, which I appreciated. I don’t think I want to
know what was hidden in the shadowed corners.
A stout man with a bushy black mustache came out from the back room. He had a dirty plate that he was washing with a soiled towel. He stopped for a moment and stared at us. "I don't want any trouble," he stated, as he looked us over.
I shook my head. “You have the wrong idea of us. We are just looking for food and beds.”
“Ain’t none of you have the look of anyone around here, except maybe you,” he said, pointing at me with his plate. “And ya ride with a dwarf. I’m no fool. You’ll have the Dommerian’s riding down on my place. They’ll kill my family and burn down my place if I do anything wrong. You’ll have to leave.”
“I understand, we aren’t here to cause you any grief. Can we buy some food before we go?”
“Do you have Dommerian money?” The man asked.
I looked to the others, who shook their heads. Of course we didn’t bring any Dommerian money with us into Dommerian controlled lands. I’m an idiot, I mentally berated myself.
“No, I’m afraid we’re broke,” I admitted.
He just stared at us a few moments longer. “If you’re broke, I can cut up one of your horses for ya, for a share of some of the meat, but I ain’t giving away any of my food.”
Abigail gasped, but I waved her down. “We aren’t to that point yet, good master. Thank you for your time. We’ll just be on our way.”
We left the inn and Abigail rushed out to the stables to check on Dreamer. "Well, that was a fine welcome back for the king," Barad said. "Looks like we'll be on the ground again tonight."
“Yes, but off the road. I don’t trust that innkeeper. He’ll have one of his boys off to report us to the local guards,” I predicted.
Bri nodded. “I agree. I don’t blame him though. He gave all the signs of telling the truth when he spoke of his family being killed and the inn burned down.”
“Poor man,” Father Pild sighed, stopping to say a quick prayer for the innkeeper.
Abigail came back, Dreamer’s reins firmly in her grasp. The two stable boys following behind her with the other horses.
We rode the horses hard away from the inn, hoping to stay ahead of anyone that might follow. After an hour, I finally slowed our pace to rest the horses. We turned off the road and found a camp far enough back that we couldn’t be seen from the road.