The First Compact: The Karus Saga (The Karus Saga: Book Book 3)

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “Well, then,” Karus said, “I see no reason to delay. Are there any objections?”

  There were none.

  “Right then.” Karus clapped his hands together. “Let’s go see what’s up there.”

  With Amarra by his side, Karus started up the hill. Si’Cara moved slightly ahead with Tal’Thor. Kol’Cara snapped an order and the elves of the Anagradoom fanned out to either side, though three remained behind with the dragons.

  The climb did not take all that long. The slope was an easy one and the hill not terribly high. Before Karus knew it, they were at the remains of the outer wall of the castle. The smell of death was much stronger and had grown more powerful with every step up the hill.

  The ruined castle was clearly ancient, for the stone, which in places was covered in carpets of moss or overgrown by brush, was well-weathered. The wall was no more than a jumble of collapsed stone blocks. The mortar that had held the blocks in place had long since crumbled to dust.

  Si’Cara stopped before the wall, crouched down, and pointed, looking back on Karus and Amarra. “See here? Goblin tracks. No more than three days old.”

  The tracks were unlike any footprint Karus had ever seen. They reminded him of large bear prints.

  “These three points,” Si’Cara said, “are foreclaws. These marks here are the toes, and this is the heel. The goblin was going that way.” She pointed to their left, along a path that followed the wall around the hill. “Goblin feet are webbed, which is why the print is so wide. Don’t let that fool you. They are generally on the smaller side. A full-grown one will come up to your chest, Karus. Because of their webbed feet, they can swim quite well.”

  “If you see one that is unarmed,” Tal’Thor added, “don’t assume it is helpless. They prefer to use their claws over weapons. The claws are razor-sharp.”

  “I already don’t like them,” Karus said as Si’Cara stood and began climbing up, over the wall. Tal’Thor followed after his wife.

  “When I was a child,” Amarra said to him, “there was a bad infestation that went undetected for months in the catacombs under Carthum. Many people died before the city guard was able to clear the catacombs and eradicate them.”

  Karus glanced at the wall, feeling apprehensive about going forward. Only, he knew he had to. The High Father demanded it. So, he stepped up to the wall and began climbing the pile of stone. It took some scrambling and he had to push aside brush, which had grown up amongst the stones. He almost slipped when a loose bit of stone shifted under his foot, but he was able to get himself up and onto the top of the wall. Climbing in armor was not the easiest of things to do. It took effort.

  He stopped and turned back, holding out a hand to Amarra. Scrambling the first few feet, she gripped his hand tightly and he pulled her up to him. She shot him a wink and then made her way deftly over the other side, following after Si’Cara and Tal’Thor. Both elves had already made their way over the wall and had begun moving cautiously out into the courtyard.

  Karus remained where he was on the wall, studying the interior of the castle and the remains of what looked like a vicious fight.

  Where buildings had once stood was now only a tangle of overgrown, mismatched piles of stone. What had been the central keep was a ruin too. The top of the keep had fallen in on itself. An entrance, where a door had once stood, had been recently cleared and dug out. The hole was overly small, about four feet in height and three in width. He could not see inside and felt a sense of unease wash over him. It was as if the hole led to an ominous pit of darkness.

  Karus shifted his gaze away from the hole and whistled softly, for one heck of a fight had taken place here. There were bodies lying all around the entrance. The bodies were small, the skin greenish. Birds of all kinds hopped around the dead, worrying at the flesh. Disturbed, they squawked loudly as the two elves moved amongst them.

  “Goblins,” Amarra breathed in disgust below him.

  “Yes,” Si’Cara said, looking back. “There may be some live ones about. We must be cautious. If you would, mistress, for your own safety … please stay close to me.”

  Karus ran his eyes over the bodies. There were dozens and each had seen a violent end. He wondered what had killed them, then spotted a larger body, about the size of an orc, only he knew it wasn’t. The shape was wrong. The body lay in the shadow of one of the ruined buildings and it was hard to make out, for there was a bush growing in the way. Carefully, he climbed down the other side of the wall as Kol’Cara’s elves moved into the courtyard, spreading out, disturbing the hungry birds even more. One elf went to the entrance hole, peered into it for a long moment, drew a sword, and then disappeared inside.

  Kol’Cara knelt next to a body. He looked over at Karus. “They’ve been dead no more than three days.”

  The smell of death was overpowering now. Karus glanced down at the body of the goblin, feeling an instinctual distaste and loathing. The goblin, though bloated in death, had been a twisted and ugly thing. Strange tattoos ran over the exposed skin.

  He moved on, past Kol’Cara, stepping around and over the bodies. Squawking loudly in protest, the birds scattered out of the way. Each goblin had taken a gruesome wound, likely from a sword or some other edged weapon. One had been nearly chopped in half at the waist.

  Karus continued slowly through the field of bodies, working his way toward the body he’d spotted lying in the shadow beyond the bush. He stepped around the bush and stopped. Karus stared in amazement at the creature that lay dead at his feet. It was most definitely not a goblin and the birds had completely avoided disturbing it.

  “A Vass,” Kol’Cara said at his side.

  Karus almost jumped, for he had not heard the elf come up.

  “A what?” He glanced over. “What did you call it?”

  “That is a Vass,” Kol’Cara said, in a tone filled with awe, and a healthy mixture of what Karus took to be horror. The elf shook his head slightly. “I had not realized there were any on this world. This is most definitely not good, for where there is one, there are many more.”

  Karus turned his attention back to the creature. It was clearly male and had long since died. The creature had sat down and leaned back against a pile of fallen stone before it expired.

  For lack of a better description, the dead Vass looked like a cross between a tiger and a man. The face was fearsome, animalistic, and covered in orange and black patterned fur. The jaw was slack, mouth open, revealing a set of yellow canine teeth.

  A beautifully crafted longsword lay at its side. The weapon was almost too large to be practical, and yet Karus could easily imagine the creature wielding it with ease.

  By the size of the Vass, it had stood over eight feet tall and had clearly been strong. Its arms and legs were thick and muscular. The Vass had not died easily. There were dozens of slashing wounds all over its body, some superficial and others quite deep.

  Even its black chest armor was badly scratched and clawed. A deep gash along the left side of its neck had likely finished the creature. The fur was matted with dried blood, which had run down its side to the ground where it had pooled and then dried.

  Half a dozen goblins lay a few feet away. The Vass had clearly taken them all down before succumbing to his own wounds.

  “Death from a thousand cuts,” Karus breathed, trying to imagine the terrific fight that had gone down in the courtyard around them. As imposing and large as the Vass was, he had difficulty believing it had single-handedly killed all of the goblins he’d passed.

  “Indeed,” Kol’Cara said. “The Vass are fearsome warriors. It is said amongst my people, the only good Vass is a dead Vass.”

  “They are with the enemy, then?” Karus asked, looking over. “Part of the Horde?”

  “No,” Kol’Cara said, “the Vass are not of the Horde. They are everyone’s enemy and walk their own path, for reasons known only to themselves. I have never heard of them allying or working with another race. Karus, the Vass are feared and respected by all s
ides. That they are here, and so close to Carthum, should be of great concern. In the days ahead, we must watch out for them.”

  Karus turned around, gazing over the ruins of the castle courtyard and the numerous bodies that lay scattered about. The keep’s entrance, only feet away, looked like a forbidding black hole, a portal that opened to another world, one of eternal darkness.

  The thought of going into such darkness fed his unease, for who knew what horrors waited within, perhaps even those larger insects that Kol’Cara had mentioned. He wondered if more Vass were in there.

  “Do you think this was where they lived?” Karus asked. “The Vass?”

  Kol’Cara shook his head. “No. There is clearly a goblin den under this hill. The Vass are more civilized, a sophisticated people, like yours and mine. They build villages, towns, and cities on the surface. They educate and love their children. They do not live like animals in the dirt.”

  Karus thought about that, his gaze returning to the tiger-like man. It looked like an animal, but then again, so too did the orcs. He had to adjust his thinking, for neither were animals, but people like himself, capable of reasoning.

  “Do you think he stumbled upon this place,” Karus asked, “and was surprised by the goblins, ambushed?”

  “No,” Kol’Cara said. “Such a thing is very unlikely.”

  “Then why was this Vass here?” Karus asked.

  “That is a very good question.” Kol’Cara glanced around. “This ruin is remote. He must have had a good reason to come here. Perhaps he was searching for something.”

  “Karus, Kol’Cara,” Tal’Thor called from across the courtyard. The elf was waving at them. “I have found a live one, a Vass.”

  Karus and Kol’Cara shared a quick look. They moved over and found Tal’Thor standing a few feet from the Vass, staying out of the creature’s reach. The Vass lay on its back, looking up at them, badly injured and clearly in a weakened state. That Tal’Thor was standing just out of reach gave Karus pause.

  Its thigh had been ripped open, exposing the bone within the leg. There were dozens of slashes and cuts across its arms, legs, and face. The creature had lost a lot of blood, which had stained the ground around it. The black leather chest armor was also scratched, pitted, and dented from battle with the goblins. The creature had removed its helmet, which lay discarded a few feet away, as if it had been tossed there. So too had an empty waterskin, which had a deflated look to it.

  There were drag marks through the dirt and vegetation, as well as a trail of dried blood, where the Vass had clearly pulled itself out of the direct sunlight and into the shade.

  Amarra, along with Si’Cara, joined them. She sucked in her breath at the sight of the creature and became very still. Her staff glowed brighter and then faded back to its normal sullen throbbing.

  “There is the body of another one on the other side of the keep,” Si’Cara said. “He clearly put up a fight.” She glanced around at a dozen or so goblin bodies that lay within fifteen feet of one another. “And it seems this one did as well.”

  The Vass bared its teeth at them, whether in pain or defiance Karus did not know.

  “I suggest we kill it,” Kol’Cara said to Karus.

  The Vass’s yellow eyes went to Kol’Cara. The two furry ears atop its head seemed to shift in his direction as well. Karus could see the intelligence in the creature’s gaze. It was weaponless and at their mercy. Its longsword, which was covered in crusted green blood, lay a few feet away in the dirt and out of arm’s reach.

  The Vass opened its mouth to speak and struggled, working its jaws, but no words came out other than a weak gasp. The creature swallowed. It seemed to make a great deal of effort and then tried once again to speak.

  “I would ask that you do it quickly, elf,” the Vass rasped in Common, barely above a whisper and clearly a struggle. “I have suffered enough. I would die and see my maker.”

  “Very well.” Kol’Cara handed his bow and arrows to Tal’Thor before drawing his dagger, an elegantly curved weapon. “I will do you that honor, though you have done nothing to earn it.”

  “No,” Amarra said, in a firm tone. “There will be no killing this day. He is why we are here.”

  “Me?” the Vass rasped, his eyes narrowing as he studied Amarra.

  “Are you certain?” Karus asked. He did not know who was more surprised, he or the Vass. “We’re here for him?”

  “Yes,” Amarra said, her gaze focused intently upon the Vass. “Yes, we are.”

  “How—?” The Vass coughed, a weak sound. “How could you know we would be here? Who … told you? Who betrayed us? I … must … know.”

  Ignoring the Vass’s question, Karus glanced over at the keep and felt a sudden wash of relief. The elf emerged at that moment and started over to them.

  Karus turned to Amarra. “We don’t need to go in there, do we?”

  “No, we do not,” Amarra said. “We have found what we came for.”

  “I did not want to go into that hole either,” Kol’Cara said to Karus. “I too am feeling great relief. You may not know this, but we elves prefer the outdoors. I was not looking forward to exploring a goblin den, a difficult and dangerous task during the best of times.”

  Karus wondered what Kol’Cara meant by the best of times. He could not imagine there ever being a good time to explore a goblin den.

  The elf who had emerged from the keep stepped up to them. He gazed briefly down at the Vass before turning to Kol’Cara. “I did not go far,” he reported. “There are more bodies inside, all goblin. I saw nothing living.”

  Kol’Cara gave a nod and then turned his attention back to the Vass.

  “What is your name?” Amarra asked before Kol’Cara could speak.

  The Vass had not taken his eyes from Amarra. He had been studying her critically. His eyes lingered on the crystal staff. “You are a priestess, human woman, are you not? You are directly blessed by a god.”

  “I am Amarra, High Priestess to the High Father.”

  “High Priestess … we honor your god.” The Vass paused, his eyes closing, as if he’d gone to sleep. They opened after several heartbeats. “But … we do not worship him. Does that bother you?”

  “No,” Amarra said. “Each must follow their own heart when it comes to faith.”

  “Truer words were never said …” The Vass coughed, bloody spittle flecking the fur around his mouth. “You will not heal me?”

  “I cannot,” Amarra said. “I am not permitted to do so. I think you know that.”

  The Vass gave a nod of agreement and turned his eyes back to Kol’Cara, whose knife was still drawn. “Do the honorable thing and kill me, for I will not be held captive.”

  “Permit us to help you.” Amarra took a step nearer. “You will not be our captive.”

  “Amarra,” Karus said sharply and grabbed her arm to keep her from getting closer and within reach of the creature.

  “Vass are not to be trusted,” Kol’Cara said. “It would be best to put him out of his misery, as he has asked us to do. To take him with us would be dangerous. Besides, his wounds are grave. He may not even survive the trip.”

  “What would you know of trust, elf?” the Vass hissed through clenched teeth. “Your kind has betrayed many over the long years.”

  Shooting Karus a hard look, Amarra pulled her arm from his grip. “What is your name?”

  “Ugincalt. You can call me Ugin. I like it better than my full name, always have.” Ugin coughed and then grimaced, his hand going to his leg, gripping it above the wound. Karus noticed a tourniquet had been tied there, which was likely why Ugin still lived.

  “We will help you,” Amarra said, “if you will allow us.”

  “And then I will be your caged pet?” Ugin said, face twisting with what Karus took to be derision. “Will you lock me up in a cage for your people to gaze upon? Will you make me into an object of curiosity? Is that it? Thank you, but no. Death is preferable.”

  “As I told you,” Ama
rra said, “you will be no one’s captive. When you are able, you may leave of your own free will.”

  Ugin eyed her for a long moment before responding. It was as if he was weighing her words, thinking them through, deciding whether or not she spoke truth. A spasm of pain overcame him. He grimaced, baring his canines. It passed in a moment and left him panting. When he recovered, he spoke again. “And will they agree to the same terms?”

  “They will,” Amarra said, “unless you seek to harm us or our people in some way or manner.”

  “I would hear them agree to the terms,” Ugin said, “before I do.”

  “It is as she says,” Karus said.

  “And you, elf?” Ugin asked Kol’Cara. “You seem to be the leader of your people. Will you give me your word of honor?”

  Kol’Cara gave a slow nod. “I do not like it, nor do I trust you, Vass, but I will abide by such a deal.”

  “Bargain fairly struck, then,” Ugin said to Amarra. “You have my word of honor, and to my people, nothing is more important than honor. I will not harm you or yours”—Ugin coughed lightly—“as long as you live up to the terms of our agreement, priestess.” The Vass seemed to relax a little. He loudly cleared his throat before speaking again. “Do you have any water?”

  Karus unhooked his canteen from his harness, unstopped it, and stepped forward, cautiously handing it to Ugin. The Vass drank deeply before handing it back.

  He closed his eyes for a long moment, as if in bliss, and then opened them. When he spoke, his voice was stronger. “Thank you. I ran out of water the night before last.”

  “Why are you here?” Karus asked.

  “I will not speak on it.”

  “Why not?” Karus asked.

  “That was not part of our bargain,” the Vass said, “and besides, it is none of your business what Vass do.”

  “Right.” Karus glanced over at Amarra, wondering what she had just tied him to. He looked to the entrance to the goblin den. “Can we go now?”

  She gave a nod.

  “We need to tend to his wounds,” Si’Cara said, “before we move him. And even then, he might not live to see Carthum.”