Spawn of Fury

by Sean Hinn

  “Time to go?” Lux asked.

  “Aye. Where’s your boots?”

  Lux shrugged.

  “Take Martle’s.”

  The private had already begun to wake and thrashed against Lux as he tried to untie a boot. A heel struck Lux soundly in the mouth, splitting his lower lip.

  “Aw, Fury, nuff o’ this!” Lux said. He retrieved the private’s discarded axe and hefted it over a shoulder. He loomed over the prone dwarf.

  “Ye can lose your boots alone or your legs with ’em, Martle. Now tell me ye don’t think I will.”

  Martle’s eyes went wide. “Mmm! Mmmm!”

  “Thought so. Now lie still.”

  A turn later Lux and Kalder were well away from the tent, huddled behind a wagon, Lux outfitted with the private’s boots, cloak, axe and dagger.

  “Dunno what ye got planned, Cap, but we ain’t got much time. Macon comes ‘round every few hours, and he’s overdue.”

  “Macon’s got his hands full tonight. Now listen close, Lux, and don’t ask questions.”

  Kalder brought Lux up to speed on all that had transpired that evening. Lux remained silent and listened until Kalder described the shape he had found Thinsel in.

  “That bloody coward! He ain’t fit to be a king!”

  “Keep your voice down, Lux. Now, he wants her dead, and can’t say I don’t understand why, but we ain’t gonna let that happen.”

  “Your damned right we ain’t.”

  Kalder nodded. “Follow me.” The two made their way quietly towards the healer’s tent. When they were close enough, the captain turned to Lux.

  “Ye’ll need to take ’em northwest, but not too far. Can ye find your way to Jayne’s Valley?”

  Lux nodded. “Aye.”

  “All right. That’s the tent right there. The three of ye get gone, fast as ye can. If all goes well, I’ll meet ye with horses and the rest of’ ‘em before dawn.”

  “And if it don’t?”

  Kalder thought for a moment but eventually shrugged. “The three of ye weren’t gonna see the next dawn anyways, I don’t guess.”

  “Kalder,” Lux said, sensing the captain’s uncertainty. “Might be I misjudged ye. Ye be doin’ the right thing.”

  Kalder shook his head. “I ain’t so sure about that. Dohr’s got a point. His way is simpler.”

  “Right thing ain’t never simple, Cap. That’s how ye know it be the right thing.”

  “And if dwarves die because o’ what we do tonight?”

  It was Lux’s turn to shrug. “We were dead soon as that first quake hit, Cap. Just ain’t lied down yet. And I don’t mean us to. Leastways not like cowards.”

  Lux nodded and clasped arms with the great dwarf. “Be well, scout.”

  “Be well, Cap.”

  XXXIII: EAST MORLINE

  Marchion had made better time than Nishali had estimated. Barris encountered the first of his knights barely an hour after parting company with the ranger. A leading squad of mounted elves slowed as Barris approached. A brief conversation informed Barris that Marchion himself would be found in the middle of the procession, an hour east.

  For the next hour, Barris rode Phantom at a walking pace along the narrow trail through the ranks of elves, exchanging pleasantries and words of encouragement with his knights. He would have preferred to ride harder, but he had not been seen by his cavalry in nearly three cycles, and to deny them a few brief words with their First would be an unnecessary assault on morale. By the time he reached Marchion, he found himself heartened, for he did very much love his knights, and they loved him in return.

  “Nishali will be dismayed to discover she has barely beaten you to the Maw, General,” said Barris.

  “That was the intention, First Knight. I suppose she expected we would camp this night.”

  “Yet here you are, riding in the dark.”

  “Is it dark?” Marchion looked around, pretending. “Well, so it is. Did you notice, Captain Hawthorn?”

  A knight at Marchion’s side replied. “I suppose I must not have, sir. What with the fine crisp air. Perfect for riding.”

  Barris laughed. “It is cold as a witch’s heart out here, Hawthorn, but your extraordinary strength in the face of it is noted.”

  “Ha!” laughed Hawthorn. “You flatter me. It is good to see you here, First Knight.”

  “And you, Captain,” replied Barris.

  “I will not share the sentiment,” Marchion said. “I would much prefer to be seeing you in Thornwood.”

  “Have you grown too old for a bit of adventure, then?” Barris teased.

  Marchion’s tone darkened. “Far too old for this sort. Has Nishali told you? About the beast?”

  Barris nodded. “She has. I caught a glimpse myself.”

  “What are your orders?”

  “I have none, General. Save those your queen has given. But I do have news. Belgorne has emptied into the Maw.”

  “Merciful Father,” Marchion replied. “So, the city has fallen?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “Dammit. Has anyone spoken to Silverstone?”

  Barris shook his head. “Not yet. Nishali intends a parley at dawn.”

  “Not you?”

  “I am due in the Grove. I leave this action in your capable hands, General.”

  Marchion dismounted his horse. “A word in private, Barris?”

  Barris climbed from the saddle and followed Marchion a few paces away.

  “These elves have never seen battle, Barris. Your presence would be comforting.”

  “Yet I cannot stay. You know what the beast portends. There are duties I must attend to.”

  “I do. But if Belgorne has fallen, the dwarves will not be of a mind for peace.”

  “I recall a cavalry master once counseling a young knight to presume nothing.”

  “This is not a day of lessons, Barris. If we are not careful, it may be a day of death.”

  “It may be even if we are careful, General. This is not like you. What truly troubles you? Tell me your family is well.”

  “They are, all thanks to the Father. I suppose I am just tired.”

  “It is more.”

  Marchion sighed. “Barris, I am old. When the last winter arrived, I spent my days huddled in my blanket, signing documents, drinking tea and training with our elves an hour each afternoon. I had thought it would be that way forever. And now….”

  “And now our sacred duty is upon us.”

  Marchion met Barris’ eyes.

  “You are equal to these tasks set before you, Knight of Thornwood,” said Barris. “Of this I am certain.”

  “How can you be? We do not yet know what we will face.”

  Barris nodded. “Then let me amend my words. You are as equal to this task as any in all Tahr. More so. Every elf in this cavalry has been your pupil. Myself included. I have faith in my teacher. You have trained me to be a knight worthy of trust, have you not?”

  Marchion nodded. “I have.”

  “Then trust I speak true.”

  Marchion grasped Barris’ shoulder. “I suppose it was me in need of comfort.”

  “We all do in such times.”

  “And you?” Marchion asked. “How do you fare, truly?”

  Barris thought for a moment before deciding to be candid.

  “I am sick at heart, if truth be told. I’ve spent Father knows how many days and nights racing around Tahr and as far as I can tell, I have accomplished nothing. Everywhere I turn, ill news greets me, and every time I go, I leave behind those I care for. Just this night…” Barris shook his head, assailed by unwelcome thoughts of young Nikalus, of Mikallis and Aria, of his queen and Pheonaris, of his knights and old friends. “Never mind. Come. You would not want Nishali to see your knights arrive saddle-weary at dawn.”

  “Barris, I am sorry.”

  “Do not be. We have no time for self-pity. Forgive my frailty.”

  “To speak one’s heart is no frailty, Sir Barris,” Ma
rchion admonished, the tone of the master returning. “Recall your lessons. Honor cannot be but for sacrifice, and sacrifice cannot be but for love. Thus, the heart of honor deserves voice.”

  Barris nodded. “Nü glahr ni, old friend. I suppose I will give you one order after all. Survive the days ahead. I would not lose the elf I would call Father.”

  “Nor would a father lose his son. Travel with care, Barris. The beast will give no quarter, of that I am certain.”

  “If it comes, General, do not tilt.”

  Marchion nodded. “Defensive posture. We are prepared.”

  Barris again mounted Phantom and led him through the ranks of elves. When the pair passed the rear guard near the Morline, he gave Phantom his head.

  Make haste, great stallion, Barris urged, willing the strength of his spirit into his friend. As knight and horse tore west along the dark East Morline trail, Barris offered a silent prayer.

  If you will it that I should survive these times, Father, I will spend more time among those I love. I will guide Mikallis through this awkward period in his life. I will welcome Nikalus into my home. I will speak my heart to my queen.

  Sincere as were his intentions, however, Barris acknowledged the truth within his own mind before he had completed his oaths: he would be hard pressed to keep them, for he was First Knight of Thornwood, and duty rarely made allowances for such promises, no matter how solemn.

  XXXIV: THE MAW

  Nishali lay awake within her tent. The night was cold; her blanket only just kept her warm, and then only if she occasionally pulled it over her head. Thus, her sleep was fitful, as she would wake from time to time in need of fresher air. A bit of magic could have warmed her bedding easily enough, but the cost of one warm night would shorten her life by some unknowable measure, and Nishali weighed such costs like a miser.

  ~Nishali. Are you awake?~

  Kade, from somewhere near.

  ~My order was clear. Do not use the Speech, Kade. Come, if you must speak to me.~

  A turn later Kade crawled into the tent beside the First Ranger.

  “It is late,” Nishali whispered. “What troubles you?”

  The span of several breaths passed before Kade replied.

  “Much, Nishali, now that I consider it. But that is not why I am here.”

  “Oh?”

  “It… is a cold night.”

  Nishali propped herself up on one arm.

  “It is.”

  Silence hung.

  “You would lay with me, Kade Calayaan?” The ranger’s tone was unreadable.

  Kade’s voice did not quite tremble, but neither was it even. “I would.”

  Had there been light in the tent, Kade might have described Nishali’s expression then as wistful. Reflective, perhaps, but not surprised. The affection the two carried for one another had never before been given voice, but it had never needed to. It was how Nishali had wanted it, to that point.

  “And what of the warmer nights?” she challenged, not unkindly.

  “All the nights to come,” he breathed.

  Nishali sat fully upright.

  “You are afraid this night, ranger?” she asked.

  “No. I mean, well, yes. But not in the way you mean.”

  Nishali waited.

  “These times,” he began. “They are uncertain. I cannot but help to feel that an age draws to a close.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  Kade floated a tiny orb of soft, blue light between them. “It is as it must be. I do not fear what is to come, overmuch. But if our time wanes, Nishali, I would spend what remains of it with you. As for my fears… I fear only that you will refuse me.”

  Nishali enjoyed a smile before replying.

  “All the nights, you say. You would light a lamp for me?”

  Kade nodded. “I would.”

  Nishali reached to touch Kade’s cheek. Her thumb gently caressed his lower lip. She lifted her blanket to allow the elf to crawl in beside her. She grasped his hand and rolled her back towards him, holding his arm tight against her belly.

  “It is a cold night. You may sleep beside me. But sleep only.”

  She finished her thought within his mind.

  ~I will light a lamp for you, Kade Calayaan. And on that night, we will share our gifts.~

  Nishali kept her next thoughts to herself, the most insistent one being a profound sense of regret that she had waited so long to allow herself to be loved. She knew beyond doubt that had she signaled her assent at any time in the past decade, Kade would have made his proposal sooner. Her second thought was one of wonder at the balance of things, that the looming horrors they faced presently could cast such a pall over the world, yet in doing so provide the spark for love to ignite. Enchanted by the bliss of the moment, she supposed even as she and Kade lay awake, lovers throughout Tahr might be whispering similar intimacies to one another, not cowed by the horrors of beasts and ill omens, but rather emboldened by them. On any other night of her long, solitary life she would have dismissed such notions as fanciful, but as she lay there in Kade’s arms, she embraced the idea as tightly as he embraced her.

  The pleasant thought was cut short by the voice of an elf.

  “Nishali!” called a ranger from across the camp. “Come now!”

  “Go!” she told Kade as she pulled on boots and grabbed her bow and quiver. She followed him at a sprint, quickly closing the distance between them. Two dozen elves stood with bows drawn, facing away from Nishali. She broke through the line, reaching for an arrow, but slid to a stop when she saw the intruders.

  Before her, beneath several orbs of light, stood two dwarves, a large male and a female, the male with what looked like a dwarven child strapped to his back.

  “Who are you?” Nishali demanded.

  “I be Lux, ranger, and this here be Nova.” Lux nodded towards the female. “We ain’t lookin’ for trouble.”

  Nishali approached to look more closely. “Why do you carry a chi– Father! What… what happened to this child?”

  Nova shook her head. “Ain’t no child. This here be Thinsel Greykin, of G’naath.”

  “And what… who did this?”

  “King Dohr, ma’am,” Lux replied.

  A murmur erupted among the elves.

  “King Dohr? Silverstone?” asked Kade, standing then beside Nishali. “What happened to his father?”

  Lux took a knee. Thinsel moaned at the movement. “I’ll tell ye all I know, but can ye help Lady Thinsel? Please? Ye got the magic for it, aye?”

  “Stand down, rangers,” Nishali ordered. The elves returned their arrows to their quivers. Nishali and Kade quickly unstrapped Thinsel from Lux’s back. Within moments several elves had whisked her into a nearby tent.

  “You are also unwell,” Nishali said to Nova. The dwarven scout stood weakly, dripping in sweat.

  “Ain’t my best day, aye,” Nova agreed.

  “Follow the others. We will tend to you,” said Nishali.

  “I be all rig–”

  “That was not a request. Go now.”

  Nova was too weak to argue.

  “Tell us all there is to tell,” said Kade to Lux.

  Lux began to speak but Nishali interrupted.

  “Wait,” she held up a hand, listening. She turned to Kade. “Marchion.”

  Nishali closed her eyes.

  ~Come to me, General. Quickly.~

  “Hold your tale for a moment. Kade, a fire please?”

  Kade turned to several elves who stood near. They rushed off to gather wood.

  “You will tell your tale to myself and General Marchion of Thornwood. He approaches.”

  Lux nodded. “I would ask ye, ma’am–”

  “Nishali.”

  Lux’s eyes widened, the name of the First Ranger familiar to him.

  “Aye, Nishali then. I would ask ye, please tell your elves that a company of gnomes and maybe a dwarf or three is gonna arrive in this valley soon. They are friends, ye need not be threatened b
y ‘em.”

  “How soon?”

  Lux shrugged. “Dunno. Real soon, I hope.”

  Nishali closed her eyes again. ~Kade. Set a watch. More come. Weapons tight.~

  “It is done.”

  Lux sighed. “Thank ye.”

  A trio of riders from the east came at a gallop, General Marchion in the rear. They slowed and approached.

  “Trouble, Nishali?”

  “Some, at least,” she said. “Garne Silverstone is dead.”

  “No!”

  “His Secondson leads Belgorne. This dwarf is Lux, and he is about to tell us all.”

  Marchion climbed from the saddle and eyed Lux. Four elves returned with arms full of firewood. The elves ignited the fire with magic just as Kade returned from the edge of camp. Lux looked to the fire, then back to Nishali.

  “Sit. Warm yourself and tell your tale.”

  Lux spared little detail, beginning with the quake that decimated Belgorne and the subsequent suicide of Garne Silverstone. He told of his scouts’ first encounter with Mama, the arrival of Oort and Thinsel in the cave, Nova’s injury, their return to Belgorne, Thinsel’s torture, and finally, all he had been told by Kalder before they had escaped. Nishali, Kade, and Marchion listened attentively, waiting until he had completed before peppering him with questions. Where did he expect the dwarven army would be now? Was Oort’s offer to shelter the dwarves in G’naath genuine?”

  “That part be hard to guess for sure, General,” Lux answered. “But far as Cap Kalder says, it be the truth, least when Oort said it, and I judge that gnome true, for what it be worth.”

  “What do you think, Nishali?” asked Marchion.

  Nishali shook her head. “We will have to discover that for ourselves when they arrive.”

  “If they arrive,” Kade countered. “Sounds like they have their own escape to arrange.”

  “Kalder’ll get ‘em out,” Lux said. “He tells Jade what Dohr has planned, ain’t a dwarf in Belgorne gonna be able to stop her leavin’. But….”

  “Yes?” Nishali asked.

  “But if they don’t, somehow, ye gotta warn G’naath. It’ll be a slaughter if Dohr has his way, it will.”

  “G’naath is responsible for these ills we face, by your own word,” Nishali said.