Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf) (17 page)

Chapter 19

Gray, Jardan and Tamina became the glue that held the children together over the next year. Yes, there were losses; it was inevitable but of the two-hundred and fifty kids that arrived in the fortress, one-hundred and twenty-nine survived to see the master slaver’s return.

At dusk on the fateful day, the overseers gathered everyone in the fortress courtyard. Every one of the kids had grown in size and girth, a testament to the hard work and nutritious food. The sound of someone clapping broke the silence and everyone turned to see the grey-skinned half-orc as he stepped out of a doorway that the kids were certain was not there a moment before.

“Well done! You have succeeded beyond my wildest imagination. I will admit I did not expect to see this many standing here today and my how you have grown.” Kralm began to move through the kids, placing a reassuring hand on shoulders or a simple pat on the back. “But today you enter the next phase of your training.”

Silently, a black cowled and hooded figure shuffled through the gathering. Their first impression was that of an old, old woman with greasy grey hair hidden underneath a dark cowl. She seemed to wheeze with every step and used a cane made of bones to help her move. In one arm, she carried a fanged skull of some unknown beast. Just as she came abreast to Gray, she stumbled. Her cane went one way and she the other.

Gray reacted out of instinct and moved in to catch her before she fell completely. As he snatched her up, he was aware of three things; how extremely light she was, that she still had the fanged skull
clutched tightly in her arms and that her bone cane skipped across the hard-packed dirt.

“There you go ma’am, you should be more careful.” Even as he helped her stand on her own, Gray felt her left hand brush his forehead as she whispered something that was both familiar and unknown. It was an odd feeling. Even as quickly as he felt it, it was gone.

“My thanks young man, I’m not as spry as I was in the old days.” She seemed to look around but did not see her cane not three feet away. “Now, where in the name of Nox is my cane.”

Jardan rushed forward, picked it up and handed it to her. “Here you go.”

“Thank you young man…you are very sweet.”

“Kâlikâ…I’m waiting,” said Kralm.

The old woman hissed in the direction of the half-orc but seemed to move a bit faster. She took a few more steps, sat down in the middle of the courtyard and began drawing in the dirt.

Kralm ignored her and clapped his hands twice. Four figures stepped out of the shadows; two dark elves, a bald heavily tattooed gnome and a dark haired elf. The grey-skinned half-orc gestured to them.

“These will be your Döcent. Your days in the Lüdüs will be spent training in a myriad of skills. Although you will learn from each Döcent, they in turn will aid and guide you in your training. But from this day forward you each belong to a Cöterie; Raven, Wolf, Cobra and Panther. Once selected, your Cöterie will be your family. They will share in your triumphs and suffer in your failures.”

Kralm clapped once and the beautiful dark elf female stepped forward. “This is Chikk Forlorn. Most recently she was the captain of the Ebony Eagle, a pirate ship of great renown, but her skills and reputation as a master thief are well known in the Subterreth.”

Chikk was wearing red leather pants, a white silk blouse with puffy sleeves and a black leather corset that greatly accented her curvy figure and displayed her ample cleavage. Her snow-white hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she rested her well-manicured hands on the hilts of her weapons. She was wearing a medallion with the raven emblem. Chikk curtsied slightly and stepped to one side.

The other dark elf stepped forward as Kralm continued speaking. “For those that make their homes in the Subterreth this next individual needs no introduction but since you are all surface dwellers, this is Darnac Penumbra. He’s the Blademaster of Avaris and probably the deadliest man alive with a blade, any blade.”

Gray noticed a couple things about the dark elf. First, the blademaster had at least eight different blades visible across his body. Secondly, judging from the looks the two dark elves were giving each other they had a history together. However, from the venomous looks the gnome was shooting him, there was no love lost between them. How this would influence his future, he was not sure but it was something he filed away for later reference.

Kralm continued his introductions. “Espen is a master assassin and an expert pharmakeia. You will learn a lot from him if you pay attention and live long enough to survive his lessons.”

The gnome seemed to slither forward instead of walking. He was short, probably less than three feet tall and had dozens of black tattoos covering his bald head and bare chest but the rearing head of a hooded cobra was prominently tattooed in the very center of his chest. The only clothing he wore was black leather pants and boots while numerous knives were visible hanging from his belt.

Finally the dark-haired light elf stepped forward. Kralm gave him a surly look but continued.

“And lastly, this is Mortharona Amarth. He is new to our legati but I can assure you that he is a master at espionage having recently completed a very important mission for the Dark Lady deep inside the Elfholm.”

Kralm turned back to the old hag. “Kâlikâ, you’re up.”

The dark cowled old lady chanted in an unknown language and the fanged skull began to glow with a black light. After a moment, she pointed at Graytael. “You...Isengrim, come!”

Gray hesitated for a second but when he realized that everyone was watching he stepped forward.

Kâlikâ thrust the skull forward. “Place your right hand inside the mouth.”

Gray did as he was directed.

“You will feel a slight burning sensation in your palm but whatever you do, do not remove your hand until I tell you so.”

Even as she spoke those words, Gray felt an irritating prick on the palm of his hand. As each second passed, the burning increased until it was naught but a torrent of fire. The inferno grew and grew until Gray did not think he could restrain himself any longer. It felt like his hand was completely aflame but since the old lady hadn’t given him permission to move, he just clenched his teeth and growled away the pain.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she said, “Enough!”

Instantly, the burning stopped.

“Remove your hand and show everyone your Signüm.”

Gray really did not know what a signüm was but followed her instructions anyway. He expected his hand to be charred or at least red but instead it seemed normal, although his palm felt tender. He was about to look at his palm when Kralm grabbed his wrist and held it aloft for all to see.

There was a quick intake of breath as everyone saw his signüm and Gray noticed that the dark elf blademaster grinned at the sight.

Gray had instinctively wanted to resist the half-orc’s grip but he was much stronger than he looked. Not to mention that he had long ago realized the truth of the whole situation, he was in fact a slave and Kralm was his owner.

Once the half-orc released him and the old woman signaled out another child, Gray looked at his palm. Seared into his flesh was the image of a black snarling wolf’s head. Other than being slightly tender at the moment and the memory of the burning, it did not seem seared into his flesh but placed there by magic.

Hearing one of the kids scream, Gray turned his attention back to the selection process. The whole method seemed to be testing each individual in some unknown way. Most only had their hand inside the skull for seconds while some lasted barely a minute.

Jardan leaned over and whispered. “No one has lasted nearly as long as you did.”

“Really? I just thought it seemed long.”

Jardan shook his head. “Hell, I bet you had your hand inside that blasted thing for nearly five minutes.” He was about to say something else when the old hag called him by name.

As Jardan moved forward, Tamina slid up next to him and held out her palm. She bore the symbol of the raven. “Have you noticed that every partnership has been severed?”

Gray had noticed. Additionally, every female had been placed in the Raven clan. Silently they watched their friend as he was tested. After about forty seconds, Jardan screamed and Kâlikâ signaled that he could remove his hand. Sure enough, Tamina was right. He bore a rival Cöterie’s symbol, the Cobra.

As Jardan moved back to stand with the rest of the kids, the old hag stood up slowly and gathered her things. Even though Gray got the impression that she was watching him, he could not prove it since her face was completely hidden by the heavy cowl.

Kralm moved back to the shadows. “I will leave you with your Döcent but remember two things; one…I will be watching and two…your lives depend on what you learn from your teachers.”

Then he was gone, swallowed up by the darkness of the Scar.

The beautiful dark elf pirate stepped forward and flashed her dazzling smile to her colleagues. “Ravens come with me and for the present time no talking the other groups.” However, she did seem to add an extra bit of sway in her hips as she walked away that invited looks from every guy.

Tamina just
squeezed Gray’s hand and followed her new teacher into the depths of the Scar. 

Espen the tattooed gnome snarled but when he spoke, it was in a
nasally whiny voice that immediately grated on everyone’s nerves. “Listen here you weak-kneed little pissants, if you’re wearing my symbol keep your mouths shut and follow me.”

Not wanting to anger his new master, Jardan just nodded his head toward his friend and fell in line.

Which left Darnac and Mortharona. They just stared at each other for a moment until the fair-skinned elf nodded his head to his colleague and took a slight step toward the Scar. “Come.”

Darnac watched all this silently and without a word to anyone, walked through the gathering of his followers and into the desert. He did not look back or pause but continued to walk deeper into the sands.

Gray shrugged and followed. After a few moments, so did the rest. An hour later, Darnac stopped at the bottom of a bowl shaped sand dune and sat down. Gray followed suit. Many of the others milled about before sitting down.

Minutes passed. Darnac did not speak, so neither did Gray.

Darnac pushed a silver bladed dagger deep into the sand but still did not say a word. On the hilt of the dagger was a black gem that seemed to blink with an unhealthy light. A slight breeze began to blow which was unusual for night time in the desert. Some of the other children had given up sitting quietly and began playing in the sand but not Gray. Even if no one else realized that this was a test, he did.

Sometime in the third hour, the sand moved.

Subtly at first but before long the children realized that they were surrounded by thousands of black scorpions. Only Darnac and Gray remained still. The rest panicked and in their haste angered the deadly insects and felt the bite of their poisonous stingers. One by one, the children succumbed to the poisonous arachnids. Until only Gray was left but still he did not move even when the scorpions began to crawl all over his body.

One part of Gray’s mind heard the clicking of pincers and felt their spiny feet all over his body but he forced himself to remain calm. There were many times Anasazi had placed him in similar situation to teach him how to control his emotions and reactions. One particular incident came to mind. The old shaman had made him sit on top of a fire ant hill and remain that way for hours, only by learning to relax his mind and body, had he escaped the incident without being stung. Now he used those same skills, to survive this. He forced his thoughts to be like a snow fed
mountain lake, cold and still.

Finally, Darnac snapped his fingers and the scorpions retreated. The dark elf cocked his head to the side and studied his newest apprentice. After a moment he asked, “What is your name slave?”

In the back of his mind, he heard Anasazi’s warning about using his given name. Not that he had been using his given name over the last year. “Isengrim, döcent.”

“Why did you not panic and flee like the rest?”

“You said it yourself, I am a slave. They might not have come to terms with that fact but I have.”

“Go on.”

“We are in the middle of the desert. I am unarmed, with no clothes and no water. Nor do I have any idea of where to run. Besides, I could not outrun the scorpions once they had us surrounded. Therefore, the best action was inaction.”

Darnac nodded. “That was very wise of you. And what of the others?”

“Döcent?”

“What should be done with them?”

Gray shrugged. “Whatever you wish.”

“Are they not friends of yours?”

“Yes, most of them but that is not relevant.”

“How so?”

“As a slave, we are property and our existence is only secured by our usefulness.”

Darnac smiled. “How did you come to this realization?”

“I have thought long and hard over the last year about our situation. It was not cost effective or a very logical way to leave a bunch of young slaves. There had to be a plan.”

“Continue.”