Relics- The Chronicles of Solomon Drake

by Robert York

  “Race,” he said without looking at the Werewolf, an edge to his tone. “Go put some clothes on before you sit on my furniture!” “We are all quite impressed with your abilities and physical attributes, that being said I want you clothed when you are not in wolf form.”

  Dejected, Race’s cocky expression faltered replaced with one somewhere between eating an entire bag of lemons and inhaling the decaying earthy scent of raw sewage. He turned stalking for the sleeping area of the cave grumbling under his breath every step of the way. Satisfied a genial smile once again appeared on Barnabas’s face as he gave Wilmar his full attention.

  “My apologies for the outburst Wilmar, but I detest sitting in a place where an unclothed sweaty backside has been.” Barnabas said distastefully. “It is one of my pet peeves as the younger generation says.”

  Wilmar raised his hand in an understanding placating gesture.

  “I understand Heir Barnabas, I too have had to deal with my share of unpleasant behavior,”

  He glanced in my direction.

  “For example, your apprentice thinks that he’s amusing,”

  Well, that’s a hurtful thing to say to someone. Wilmar’s in the cave less than, what ten or fifteen minute’s tops and this is the first meaningful thing he says. Not “Hey nice cave.” or “Love the tapestries.” or “Mind if I peruse the library,” No, he has to go right to insulting the hot looking Wizard guy. Now, I don’t normally go around referring to myself as a “hot Wizard” in matter of fact this is the first time. I don’t do so now out of vanity or pride, but with the knowledge that at least one woman, Adrianna - Vampire though she may be - finds something “hot” about me.

  Barnabas glanced in my direction before turning his gaze back to Wilmar.

  “Yes, sadly he does,” Barnabas, agreed. “No matter how often others tell Solomon that his humor is far from being amusing, he continues to maintain the opposite opinion.”

  “That’s only because you two grouches don’t appreciate my comic genius and timing,” I replied smiling.

  “I agree with Barnabas and Wilmar,” Adrianna piped in. “You’re not that funny.”

  I gave a long-suffering glance to Adrianna that she answered with a playful wink. After the chuckles died down Barnabas said.

  “I think Solomon has endured enough of our ribbing. Please Wilmar, tell us what you know,”

  Wilmar began his tale without any preamble. The first thing he told us about was his enchanted mirror alerting him to the presence of Mid-Realm creatures in the woods. Then he spoke about how he found me nearly unconscious as well as badly beaten at the hands of a group of rampaging Yetis. He also mentioned their unusually large numbers along with the strangeness of them being in this area. Normally they wouldn’t venture far from the doorway between our two worlds. He spoke of treating my wounds, feeding me, going through all the stuff in my pack, which spurred more questions from Wilmar. Barnabas finally had to stop him, bringing him back to the matter at hand. Answers about the times in which we lived and the wonderful gadgets that dominated our modern lives would have to wait for another time.

  After a pause, Wilmar said.

  “I would like to hear of what happened to my friend...” Wilmar checked then added. “Our friend Heir Bialek.”

  “Where should I begin,” asked Barnabas.

  Tilly came scampering out of the kitchen area carrying a small silver tray, a pair of tall ornately painted white china mugs rested upon on it. Cocoa topped with a generous dollop of whip cream sprinkled with nutmeg sloshed gently in the mugs. Tilly deposited the first mug next to Wilmar then he presented me with the other, a wide contented smile lighting his face.

  As he passed by me he noticed Wilmar’s fur coat slung over the back of one of the red velvet chairs. He scurried over to it making a disapproving “clucking” sound with his tongue. To his credit the little Elf took the heavy fur coat awkwardly in both arms while still balancing the silver tray, then he walked it over to the spindle coat rack hanging it up before heading back to the kitchen area.

  “At whichever point you feel I should know about whatever has happened,” Wilmar said.

  I gratefully sipped the cocoa. It was hot, almost to the point of burning my tongue, but delightfully good. The cocoa was thick with a rich flavor like drinking a bar of milk chocolate. This was not made from instant powder packs. Tilly had made a drink that was worthy of the Gods taste buds from scratch. I was in heaven. I held the mug in both hands savoring each sip as I listened to the conversation.

  Barnabas inclined his head then began. He told Wilmar about Whitey tracking Tilly to the magic shop after he murdered Hans Bialek. A slight pang of sorrow could be detected in the big man’s face as Barnabas presented the details. He told Wilmar about my encounter with the Vampires and the tall Wizard at Stumpwater’s. It took Barnabas a little explaining for Wilmar to understand what Stumpwater’s actually was, seeing that Wilmar had never been there before. Barnabus spoke at length about traveling to Adrianna’s building, where we stumbled into an assassination attempt that nearly succeeded in taking her life.

  Barnabas also told Wilmar about the relics of King Arthur in great detail as he had relayed them to Adrianna, but wisely left out information about the exact whereabouts as well as the specific nature of the protections surrounding each relic. The last thing he said was that he’d received a message from Oswald twelve hours ago. Apparently he and Glum had taken the crown to prevent Whitey or the tall Wizard from getting it.

  “A moving target’s harder to find,” Barnabas said.

  Which I guess is true if you’re a non-magical person, but infinitely more difficult if you’re a Wizard. Spells and charms must be employed to mask whomever or whatever you are trying to hide. Stationary spells are easier to maintain because they are located in one place drawing power from the surroundings to concentrate the veil. Spells that require a person to be mobile however, masking their whereabouts is next to impossible. The spell must continuously be cast as you’re on the move, only an experienced wizard with absolute concentration can pull it off. In this case, I was hoping that Oswald was just such a Wizard.

  Barnabas raised a hand extending it palm out at a point beyond the fireplace. An obsidian stone sphere roughly the size of a sixteen-inch softball rose up from its brass base atop one of the bookshelves flying gracefully toward him. The sphere hovered to the middle of the table between the two men then began to rotate, slowly at first, then faster with each rotation. As the speed increased a swirling pattern of white energy pulsed to life at the spheres inky center. In a few seconds the swirling energy, which resembled water going down a sink drain grew to about fifty inches in diameter eclipsing the obsidian sphere. Dark shapes began to coalesce into recognizable images as Oswald’s voice became audible as though it was being tuned in on an old time radio.

  “Barnabas, are you there,” Oswald asked as his image came into sharper focus.

  “I’m here,” Barnabas’s voice replied though we never saw him.

  “We’re still on the move just as planned, but I fear that someone is close on our trail,” Oswald said.

  I was more than a bit surprised at Oswald’s haggard appearance. He took absolute pride in the way he looked. He was an extremely vain man spending far too much time at the salon or in front of a mirror. To see him in this disheveled state was distressing.

  “Are you safe,”

  “For now yes,” Oswald replied. “But I don’t know for how long.”

  “Have you identified who is following you?” Asked Barnabas, concern in his voice.

  “No,” Oswald replied. “But I know they’re close, I can sense their presence as can Glum.” “He has been rather edgy of late.”

  Suddenly, Oswald let out a huff of surprise, then was forced out of view to be replaced by Glum’s bald troll head. He gave a crooked toothy troll smile.

  “Hi Barnabas,” Glum said in his deep raspy voice. “Where Solomon?”

  “Hello Glum,” Barnabas said
in a voice very reminiscent of a parent speaking to a child that has just found a frog and wanted to bring it in the house. “He’s not here at the moment.”

  “Oh,” Glum said disappointed. I didn’t know he cared for me that much. Trolls aren’t known for expressing their emotions. Well, I guess anger and hate are emotions but they aren’t the important ones.

  Oswald did his best to force Glum out of view, but it was a hopeless effort. He had the body density and weight of a granite boulder that was just as immovable.

  “Now see here,” Oswald squeaked in an exasperated tone, pushing against Glum on every syllable. “Mind your manners.”

  Glum slowly moved to the left ceding Oswald more of the mystic camera’s eye.

  “Glum Hungry,” Glum said as his head disappeared from view.

  “Yes I know,” Oswald affectionately patting Glum’s cheek. “I am too, we will get something to eat soon,”

  “Glum want Hamburgers,” Glum said excitedly from somewhere out of view.

  “We’ll see, now behave yourself,”

  Oswald adjusted his jacket then smoothed back his messed hair as he once again looked toward us in the recording.

  “We’ll do our best to stay ahead of anyone following us,” Oswald said.

  The image flickered for just a moment right at the end of his sentence, almost like losing reception on a vintage television set with rabbit ears. Then a black blur moved across Oswald’s field of vision directly in front of him. Whatever it was darted quickly from right to left obscuring Oswald from the camera’s eye. Out of view Glum’s angry growl rose threateningly in volume as a look of panic entered into Oswald’s expression.

  “I will contact you soon if we are able,”

  Then the message abruptly ended.

  Silence dominated the atmosphere of the cave as we stared at the diminishing orb of white light. After a moment the obsidian sphere rotated silently in front of us, then gradually moved back to the shelf settling once again on its cradle.

  “We’re going to help them right?” I asked. “We can’t just leave them alone and defenseless.”

  “No,” Barnabas replied in a pained voice “We cannot risk it.”

  My anger inched higher. Oswald was Barnabas’s best friend and colleague. No, he was more than that. Oswald was family. He may have had his eccentricities, but he was a kind man always treating me with love and respect. I couldn’t sit here doing nothing to help, leaving him to whomever or whatever might be pursuing them. Barnabas must’ve been reading my expression like a book because he added just as I opened my mouth to argue.

  “Oswald and Glum knew the danger when they took up this responsibility… They volunteered for it my boy and if the thought hasn’t crossed your mind...”

  Barnabas paused looking at each of us in turn.

  “We are in as much danger if not more,” he continued. “Because we are running straight at the danger while they’re fleeing from it.”

  A long silence fell upon those gathered around the table.

  “Oswald and Glum are your friends. Our family. How can you not do anything to help? If your places were reversed, Oswald wouldn’t hesitate, he’d be doing what he could to help you,” the words spilling from my lips like an open faucet.

  I felt ashamed for my adoptive father. His pained expression didn’t move me in the least. I wanted my words to sting him. Sting his pride and arrogance. I didn’t care about hearing any of his rational or strategy. They needed our help, I wanted to grab my things and rush to their aid,

  “Much more is at stake than any of us realize Solomon,” Wilmar said.

  His eyes caught mine as he continued.

  “Barnabas is not being cautious for himself or for us but for what we must protect. It isn’t enough to rush in where angels fear to tread, we must be intelligent, cunning as well as strong… I’ve known Barnabas for many years now and I can tell you he cares deeply for Oswald and Glum as you do and would help them if he could,”

  Wilmar fell silent. After a short pause he added.

  “I cannot speak for the rest of you but I also accept this danger and by the grace of God I will not shrink from it,” Wilmar said, his words filled with resolve. Turning to Barnabas he said.

  “I will fight alongside you if you wish me to,”

  “As do we,” Adrianna piped up. Though Bart didn’t look as enthused about being a part of the little group.

  “I’m not sure who or what is behind any of this, but those responsible for killing your friends, as well as those that planned the attack on me which killed some of my people must be found and dealt with.”

  Race came out from behind a dressing screen pulling a tight fitting t-shirt down over his sculpted abs. He moved over to one of the chairs around the fireplace, pausing he looked right at Barnabas. A contemptuous look plastered on his face, he vaulted over the back of the chair landing hard in a sitting position with a spring clanging thud, his feet resting comfortably on the ottoman.

  “I’m indifferent about the whole thing man,” he said. “But I’ll stick around just for these plush digs.”

  He nestled his shoulders deeper into the comfortable cushions of the chair, his toes waggling at the warmth from the crackling fire.

  I felt a gentle tugging on the hem of my shirt. I glanced down to see Tilly, his puppy dog eyes looking expectantly up at me, waiting for me to throw in with the rest of this lot.

  “Yeah... OK,” I said finally, “Tilly and I are in too.”

  Tilly gleefully hopped in place clapping like a kid finding out he was going to Disneyland. Barnabas looked around the cave to each of us. His eyes lingered on mine a little longer than the rest. After a moment he rose from the table.

  “Since everyone is in agreement then we must make preparations,” he said. Then added. “We will be leaving in twenty minutes.”

  “Awwww...” Tilly groaned. “But Master Barnabas Sir, I’ve just taken three large pans of Sheppard’s Pie out of the oven. I would hate for it to go to waste.”

  Barnabas’s mouth quirked up into a relenting smile.

  “Yes, that would be a waste.”

  He pulled out his pocket watch flipping open the cover.

  “Shall we say forty five minutes until our departure? That should give us ample time to fill our bellies with Tilly’s Sheppard’s Pie before we go.”

  Barnabas turned to Adrianna and Bart as he tucked his pocket watch back from whence it came.

  “Our guests may have use of anything in the cave as we dine unless you wish to sit with us of course.”

  Adrianna inclined her head in an acknowledgement of thanks.

  “We’d be delighted to join you,” Adrianna replied diplomatically, then added. “We no longer have a need to eat human food, conversation however, appeals to me far more at the moment,”

  Bart’s expression remained impassive, I was thinking that he was rolling his eyes on the inside and giving us each the finger mentally.

  “Please, everyone have a seat while I get everything ready,” said Tilly.

  We obeyed Tilly taking our places around the table, Barnabas at the head, with Wilmar at the opposite end. Bart was seated beside Race, judging by their expressions they both were simply loving the seating arrangement.

  Sarcasm.

  Tilly, be it a flash of inspiration or insanity seated Adrianna next to me. I didn’t know whether to thank him or brain him with a serving spoon. The feelings that stirred in my being earlier were still lurking within me. I wanted her badly. Though I wasn’t sure if I could control myself, but I was going to do my best. With our interlude outside the tent cut short, I felt there was some unfinished business between Adrianna and I. Perhaps Tilly picked up on that. Regardless of his motivations I’m glad he placed us together. It gave me an opportunity to be close to her once again, even if it was only for a little while. During dinner our hands found each other’s under the table. Her small yet powerful hand in mine, our fingers entwined. It was a little slice of heaven and I
found myself not wanting it to end.

  Chapter 23

  Walking, from everything that I’ve read is without question one of the best exercises a person can engage in to stay healthy and fit. While that might in fact be true, I was wishing for a fast snowmobile or an eight-team dog sled as we hiked the three miles to Hans Bialek’s compound. Our progress hampered by knee high snow and bitter cold.

  Given my continual lamentations regarding the climate we found ourselves in, I can almost hear the mocking complaints of you the reader as it relates to my courage, my fortitude and my manhood. Such things like,

  “Stop your bitching already its not that bad,” or “Aren’t you a freaking Wizard?”

  “Don’t you have the ability to wield the powers of the heavens and the earth?”

  “Why can’t you just wave your magic wand, recite a spell zapping your whiny self there, so we don’t have to hear you complain about how cold it is or how long it takes to walk from place to place.”

  The answers to these well thought out queries are quite simple. First off, I don’t bitch. Complain? Perhaps, but I like to think that I point out obvious flaws in certain situations as they relate to my well being thereby giving voice to them.

  Secondly, magic - incase you haven’t realized - is incredibly cool to use, but it’s also governed by the rules of physics and therefore has limitations like all things in the universe. Rules, that modern science strictly adheres to regarding what we know today to be true and the rules yet to be realized by scientific formula in the future. When a Wizard employs a fire spell, or an ice spell or makes objects or even creatures of every description appear for example, they just don’t come from thin air or out of a monkey’s butt. - Though that would be funny, a magical monkey butt - Everything, and I do mean everything that a Wizard creates must come from somewhere.

  In the television series Star Trek they have these wonderful devices called “replicators.” These devices can make food, clothing, elements both basic and complex, and various other devices, ship components and a myriad of things that are far too numerous to list here. They can do all of these things based on a simple principle and that is that matter and energy are the same. By that I mean, it takes matter to create energy and energy to create matter. Everything in the universe was created by a huge release of energy (The Big Bang) most of the basic elements we know today originated from that explosion. We humans also use many of those elements to create other more complex elements by combining them in various ways. During the process of creating these new elements energy is released.