If that assurance is not enough and you still wish to break the curse, you must seek me out and I will tell you more. I will be at the holy site of Alsarobeth at the outer edge of the Known Lands.
In order to reach me you will need to make your first sacrifice and that is of your pride. Only those with holy names and bearing certain types of holy artifacts can gain entrance to Alsarobeth. You know the meaning of this.
One last caution. I have foreseen many futures and the possibility of our meeting is a slim one. In the only eventuality where it happens, neither your husband nor any of your friends will be at your side.
I await your decision, whatever it be. Time is a factor. My life is nearing its end. If you decide to seek me, you must begin your journey within a week after you read this letter.
May you be blessed,
Rahan
Edge reread the letter twice more, trying to digest its every meaning. “He says that neither I or any of our friends will be there if she meets him. It doesn’t say that we can’t accompany her on her journey.”
“She is strong,” said Squirrel, this time without a reptilian hiss in his tiny voice.
Edge didn’t doubt her strength. She was every bit his equal as a warrior and in some ways more equipped to survive on her own. But this was a journey to an ancient holy site and such journeys were always fraught with danger.
He looked to Fist. “Did she leave any other hint as to where she was going?”
Fist hesitated. “No. She just took what she needed for travel.”
Deathclaw approached Artemus and grabbed a handful of the wizard’s frosty hair. He lifted the wizard’s head from the table. “Do you know where to find this Alsarobeth?”
Artemus’ eyes fluttered open. They were beady and red. Frost covered the raptoid’s hand and Deathclaw let go with a hiss.
Artemus replied to Edge. “I do not. But the seer is right that she would need to bring a holy artifact. Otherwise the guardians of the holy site would not let her pass. It is likely that she has Tulos with her. Since the Prophet cleansed it, the dagger is a powerful artifact indeed.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” said Fist. “She may even have used it as her naming weapon.”
Edge nodded. One of the things that had stopped her from standing in front of the Bowl was fear of what would happen if she tried to dip her Jharro staff into its waters. The staff already belonged to the Grove. The trees might not like it if she bound it to another holy power.
He glanced at the ogre. “In her letter, Jhonate mentioned another person she had met. Someone who was also seeking the seer. Do you know anything about this person?”
“I haven’t heard of anyone like that, but I reached out to you immediately after I read the letters. I will do what I can to find out.” He hesitated again. “There is one other thing I should mention.”
“Yes?” asked Edge.
“Rufus smelled traces of a visitor in your house,” Fist said. “He didn’t like the way the man smelled. He sensed traces of rot on the man.”
“Rot?” said Deathclaw.
“Rufus said he smelled faintly like the evil stench of the Black Lake,” Fist said. “But I can’t see how that could be. It makes no sense how he could smell this on a person so many years after the Black Lake’s destruction.”
Edge’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. “It doesn’t matter. If there is any chance that smell came from the man she is travelling with we have to go after her.”
Fist nodded. “Then I shall send Rufus to come and get you. While I wait for your return I will do research on the holy site of Alsarobeth. I’ll also look into the identity of this visitor.”
Artemus rose from his chair. “Might I offer a word of caution?”
A word of caution was the last thing Edge wanted to hear at the moment, but he waved the wizard on.
“Jhonate chose to undertake this mission on her own and she specifically said she did not want us coming after her,” Artemus said. “She must have her reasons for believing this and for trusting the visitor that came to her. Shouldn’t we trust her judgement?”
Edge forced himself to give the wizard’s words some thought before he responded. “I trust Jhonate’s judgement in most things. But when it comes to this curse . . .” He shook his head. “Because the curse is on her body, she lets it weigh upon her like she did something wrong. She is desperate to cure it and that does affect her judgement. She forgets that I also share this burden. We should fix this together.”
“I don’t disagree with what you are saying, but I must point out that this letter was not addressed to you,” Artemus said. The more he spoke, the more the elemental’s influence over his appearance diminished. His eyes were no longer red and his nails weren’t quite so long. “This message and the instructions within it seem to apply to her alone.”
Edge let out a slow breath. “But can we trust the authenticity of this letter after the way this was worded?” He gritted his teeth. “Every phrase was perfectly formed to manipulate her feelings! I know Jhonate and I know exactly how she felt as she read it!”
“Ah, so it’s the letter’s tone that bothers you,” Artemus said. Then, with a regretful smile, he added, “But is that not also how the Prophet talks?”
Edge’s lips twisted in frustration. There was truth in his great grandfather’s words. John did seem to know exactly what to say to make you do what he wanted.
Fist tried to come to his aid. “But we know to trust John. For centuries he has proven himself. This Rahan is a complete stranger. How can we know to trust him?”
“This is a valid point,” Artemus admitted. “But can you explain how he knew Arriana’s name? Such hidden things are revealed to servants that know how to listen to the Creator’s will.”
“That’s not the only way hidden things can be discovered,” Edge said. “How many times have the Dark Prophet’s minions gotten away from us because they found a way to learn hidden things?”
“I could take the letter to the Head Wizard Valtrek,” Fist suggested. “He might be able to verify its authenticity.”
Edge didn’t like the idea of sharing so personal a letter with Valtrek. That crafty wizard had burned him in the past. But he had little choice. His arguments were falling apart. “Go ahead and take it to him,” Edge said softly.
Artemus frowned. “Edge, son, I didn’t say those things because I wished to discourage you.”
“I know,” said Edge, giving the wizard a mollifying smile. “I appreciate you speaking up and making me face the flaws in my thinking.”
Deathclaw hissed. “I heard nothing to keep us from our current course of action. We should still go to the Mage School while Fist looks into the letter and that other man that was in your house. You can decide what to do after we know everything.”
“That is indeed my plan,” said Edge. He took a deep breath. “We will set out right away. Fist, have Rufus leave right away and meet us at the Academy outpost near Oldbriar Village. We can make it there in two days. I have some instructions to give the patrols along the way. Also, there are some things I need you to pass on to Valtrek when you speak with him. There is a new dark wizard threat in the mountains here.”
Edge passed on everything that they had discovered about the Maw. Then they ended their communication and broke camp. He and Deathclaw mounted their horses and rode down the main road towards the nearest Academy outpost.
They traveled throughout the night and arrived just before dawn. This particular outpost was a small one, basically a few buildings and a stable surrounded by a wall of pine logs. Edge woke the outpost captain and told him about the threat. He requested that guards be posted at the villages near the pass in case the Maw sent more raiders. Then he and Deathclaw managed to sleep for a few hours before traveling on.
When they finally arrived at the Oldbriar outpost, Rufus was there excited and waiting. Like all rogue horses, Rufus could move at tremendous speeds and do so tirelessly. He had travel
ed through the portal that led from the Mage School to the Academy. This cut their distance by half and he had run without stopping from there.
He barely waited for Edge to dismount from his horse before wrapping him up in an enormous hug. He would have done the same thing to Deathclaw if the raptoid hadn’t drawn his sword.
“Ooh! Fist wants talk to you!” Rufus huffed.
“Tonight?” he asked.
“Yes!” said the rogue horse. “While we run.”
Rufus then grew, increasing his overall size and lengthening his back just enough for Edge and Deathclaw to tie their gear onto him and climb aboard together. They left their horses at the outpost and rode away.
The rogue horse ran all day and continued into the night, giving Edge time to delve into the bond and contact Fist. He didn’t bother to try and build a room in the bond this time. That would take too much concentration to attempt while riding, so they just spoke mind to mind instead. The ogre had important new information.
When I showed Head Wizard Valtrek the letter, he said that it did look to be authentic as far as he could tell. The paper he used is from a tree that only grows in Alberri where Rahan is from. The wax seal had been stamped with an ancient holy symbol. Also, he says the cadence of the letter fits that of a seer.
I guess that’s as close as we could expect him to get, said Edge, but there was a frightened tone to the ogre’s thoughts that told him Fist wasn’t finished. What else?
I asked him about the visitor at your house. Neither he or any of the guards knew of anyone seeking information about Rahan or looking for Jhonate, but it was a pilgrimage day. Hundreds of warriors were in line to stand in front of the Bowl.
That’s a heavy pilgrimage day, said Edge, his concern growing. If someone was going to get in without being noticed that would be the time to do it.
Yes, Fist replied. And when I told him about the smell that Rufus sensed in your house he grew worried. He told me to wait for him in the library and rushed away. When he came back, his face was white.
What did he find? Edge asked.
Something was missing from one of the tower vaults. It was an item of power that was recovered from the Priestess of War’s belongings after we defeated her at the Black Lake. If Jhonate’s visitor had smelled of the Black Lake . . .
Edge’s blood ran cold. What was it?
A long slender box covered in protective runes and with a jade stone on top. When I asked him what was in the box, he said that it had radiated such menace that he had never opened it. Fist paused. Does that sound familiar to you?
Edge swallowed. I think you have the same theory that I do.
Celos, the jade dagger, Fist said.
The last of the Dark Prophet’s original sacrificial daggers. They had known it was out there somewhere. They had even searched for it a few times. He found it frustrating that it could have been in a Mage School vault the whole time. Jhonate was in terrible danger if the person with her had that evil thing in his possession. How could the wizards have missed it?
There was a lot going on and there were a whole lot of artifacts brought back that day. Fist said.
Edge remembered. Artemus’ dagger had been one of the many things retrieved from amongst the Priestess of War’s trophies. Then we have not choice. We have to track Jhonate down.
I’m still looking into the holy site of Alsarobeth, Fist said. Valtrek had heard of it, but didn’t know where it was. Librarian Vincent has promised to help me search the records for mention of it.
Alright, said Edge. One other thing. Is Tarah Woodblade’s daughter still stationed at the school?
Sukie? Yes, I talked to her yesterday, said Fist. She’s expecting to be transferred back to the Academy in a couple weeks.
See if she knows if her mother is around. We are going to need to track Jhonate down and there is no one better than Tarah. With her skills they’d know for certain if the man who was with Jhonate had stolen the dagger.
Oh, said Fist. Sorry. Tarah and Djeri are in Malaroo right now. Their doing some work for the trollkin.
Edge sighed. We’ll have to make do then. Make preparations. At the speed Rufus is making, we’ll see you tomorrow night.
His prediction was spot-on. They arrived at the city of Reneul as twilight hit the following day. Despite the urgency of the situation, Edge couldn’t help but smile as the city of his birth came into view.
Since the rebuild, Reneul had grown larger than ever, sprawling over the nearby hillsides. Rising high above the city was the towering wall of the Academy. With the Mage School’s help, the Dremaldrian Battle Academy was bigger and more impressive than ever.
The new Academy covered twice as much ground as the old Academy and the walls towered 40 feet into the air. Every stone was runed to withstand attacks both physical and magical. The battlements bristled with ballistae and other weaponry. Should they ever be under siege again, they were prepared.
Edge wished that he had time to stop in and visit his parents or Lenny and Bettie and their family, but there was no time. He had Rufus skirt around the city and approach the portal site directly.
The three-mile road that led from the portal cave to the Academy was now a busy thoroughfare lined with shops and inns and taverns. Though Rufus was known in the area, the sight of the huge rogue horse with Edge and Deathclaw riding him was enough to cause a stir. Luckily when they arrived at the portal gatehouse, they were recognized right away.
The guards and mages stationed at the gates gave Edge salutes as they waved him through. The portal between the Academy and Mage School was an integral part of the relationship between the two schools as it shaved off two weeks of travel time by horseback. The level of security around the portal showed just how important it was.
The hillside around the cave had become a fortress in and of itself. High walls and guard stations watched over the entrance. They had to pass through two checkpoints before coming in full view of the cave. Once inside they had a surprise waiting for them.
Standing in front of the portal was a five-foot-tall dwarf that was massively muscled. He wore a suit of leather armor in plate style that left his arms bare. The armor was a masterwork and covered in protective runes that glowed heavily to Edge’s mage sight. A large forge-blackened hammer hung at his side and under a thick red handlebar mustache, was a familiar gap-toothed grin.
“Len-wee!” said Rufus excitedly and ran up to the dwarf.
Lenui Firegobbler, Master Weaponsmith, Wobble Representative on the Academy Council, and long time member of the Big and Little People Tribe shook his head. “Calm it, monkeyface. I’m wantin’ to talk to Edge first.”
“Lenny!” said Edge, climbing down from Rufus’ back. When he had first met the dwarf nearly two decades before, he had said Lenui’s name wrong and though it started as a running joke, the pronunciation had stuck. Nearly everyone in the tribe called him Lenny now. “What are you doing here?”
The dwarf’s grin slipped, his handlebar mustache drooping. “What am I doin’ here? Is that any way to talk to yer dag-gum best friend?”
Edge blinked at the sudden outburst. Lenny was indeed one of his best friends. They had been in countless adventures together over the years. He gave the dwarf a teasing smile. “Well, you’re definitely one of my oldest friends. I don’t know about ‘best’-.”
Lenny scowled. “Yer gonna doubt it? Would anybody else but yer best friend make you two of the most powerful swords in the Known Lands and not even charge you?”
“That wasn’t without compensation-,” Edge began.
Lenny didn’t pause to listen. “Would anybody else but yer dag-blasted best friend hoof his way all the way to Malaroo to help him kill a garl-friggin’ god?”
“The behemoth wasn’t a god,” said Deathclaw.
And at the same time Edge said, “You weren’t there for me. You were there for Jerry.”
Lenny poked his thumb at his chest. “Would anyone else but yer best friend go hoofin’ all the way back
to Malaroo again for yer wedding after you didn’t bother to go to his own wedding?”
This was probably the least fair part of the dwarf’s diatribe, but this time Edge kept his mouth shut and waited for Lenny to finish.
“Would anyone else but yer best friend join you in dangerous missions time-after-time over the years, takin’ wounds and getting’ a dressin’ down from his wife every time? Even makin’ her name a son after you?” Lenny said.
“I was honored,” Edge said sincerely, placing a hand against his chest. His namesake, Lenny’s youngest son, was almost five now. He had been a husky little boy the last time Edge had seen him, though that was to be expected with a child whose parents were a dwarf and a half orc. “How is Justanathan doing? I would have stopped in to see him but-.”
Lenny stopped him by raising an outraged finger into the air. “And then, after you ain’t spoken to him fer a year and a half, would anyone but yer own bestest friend in the whole durn world, come runnin’ to help the minute he learnt yer wife was in trouble?”
“I . . . you heard that?” Edge asked.
“I knew somethin’ was wrong when Rufus came through the portal by hisself and run off towards the mountains like his tail was on fire. So I went to the Mage School and made Fist talk,” said Lenny.
“Of course the ogre talked.” Deathclaw hissed with a roll of his reptilian eyes. “You are wrong about who Edge’s best friend is.” It pained the raptoid to admit the next part. “Fist would be first. Then me. Then Gwyrtha-.”
“His bonded don’t count!” Lenny protested. He folded his bulky arms. “Yer too close a part of him. That’d be like me sayin’ my own arse was my best friend.”
Edge sighed. “The only reason I didn’t agree with you right away was because of Jhonate.”
“Wifes don’t count neither, dag-blast it! A man’s gotta say that,” Lenny grumped, and it seemed he was legitimately getting upset. “Startin’ to wonder why I even came here.”
Sir Edge Page 10
