Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf) (25 page)

“Who was this Asad?” asked Gray.

Chikk answered. “If you travel south through the burning sands, you will reach a region known as Sahura, so called that after the river that runs through it. Only the areas nearest the river are fertile, the rest is parched rock and sands. Where the Sahura reaches the Crystal Sea lays Minos, the kingdom of the Minotaurs; on the other end Tjenu, the towering city. In between is a lawless region claimed by both kingdoms. However about fifty years ago, a warrior came forth that waged war on both monarchies. This warrior was known as Asad the Lion. His preferred weapons were twin claws of silver such as these.”

“And?” Galvorn prompted.

Darnac picked up the tale. “What Chikk isn’t telling is that even though the two kingdoms considered him a bandit and offered large rewards for his capture, no one would come forward with information about Asad’s whereabouts because the general populace of the region loved him. He only waged war on the rich kingdoms and there are tales that he gave the lion’s share of his loot to the poor.”

Gray
asked, “And you think these claws were his?”

“I’ve never heard of anyone else using such a weapon.”

Darnac held them to the light. There were three one-foot long blades attached to a bracer of silver and leather. The claws looked as if they had seen plenty of use but also lots of tender loving care.

“Why would Espen have them?” Gray asked, then realized how stupid the question sounded so he added, “I mean, why still have them after all these years?”

Darnac favored him with a smile. “It is well known that many assassins take a memento from their kills, a trophy if you will. Espen probably had dreams of using them one day.” The Blademaster cocked his head to the side and chewed on the inside of his lip. “But I have a better idea.”

Flipping them around bracers first, he presented the exotic weapons to Gray. “Here Isengrim, for you.”

Gray swallowed. “But…but…what….why?”

“Consider it a reward for your quick thinking yesterday in saving Galvorn. I won’t lie, he was as close to death as I have ever seen anyone. If you hadn’t remembered about the lamprey stone, he would’ve died. Simple as that.”

“But master, I am not worthy. I only acted to save my friend. There is no need to reward me for that.”

Galvorn nudged his shoulder. “Go on Grim. I guess I was sicker than I thought. You deserve something. Besides, somehow those claws seem very fitting for you.”

Reluctantly, Gray accepted the weapons and felt his heart flutter with excitement at holding them. Something felt…right about the strange weapons.

Darnac grinned. “I’ll teach you certain strategies and tactics useful for those claws.”

Gray furrowed his brow. “But Kënnári, I thought you said you’ve never trained with weapons like these?”

“I haven’t but I’ve studied how to defend against them, just in case. Asad was a canny fighter and had a nasty reputation. A true blademaster studies the styles of as many opponents as possible, just in case.” Darnac’s grin told him the rest. He had trained to fight Asad, in case he had been ordered to do so. “Come on, let’s get back to the barracks. We have lots of work ahead of us.”

The four of them departed but not until Chikk locked up Espen’s chambers and even put on a few extra security spells for good measure. Darnac nodded to the dark passageway. “You two head on back, I think I will walk this lovely lady back to her cabin.”

It seemed that the two instructors were going to be busy for the rest of the night. Gray and Galvorn grinned but followed orders.

Intermission

Pardon the interruption but at this point in tonight’s story, there is a gap of about six years.

I must admit that I have many times tried to get the Forgotten King to elaborate on those years but he has been extremely tight-lipped about them. I am uncertain if something detrimental happened to him or they were just more of the same. I tend to believe the latter of the two, since everyone he seemed to care about during his early years as a slave appear later in this story.

What I have been able to
discern is that the bond of friendship between Graytael and Galvorn strengthened over the years. They were in every aspect brothers, although to the best of my knowledge his half-brother was still in the dark that they were truly related. I do know that the relationship between Tamina and Graytael blossomed into a full-blown romantic affair even though it was frowned on by the teachers.

Why is this relevant?

You will have to be patient and wait until I get to that point in the tale. Ah, I see you have refilled your mugs with ale and have once again sat down by the fire. So, I will pick up the story once more. 

Chapter 27

When the door to the tavern opened, Aleena looked up expectantly but was saddened when it was not Rjurik. It was only five minutes ago when she heard the chiming of the ship’s bells and the caller walking through the streets of Asylum yelling, “Four bells and all is well.”

It had been strange to hear that during the first year she had spent inside the besieged city. She had found it odd that the caller would say
‘all is well’
when there was an army at the walls. She had been fearful that the Dark Alliance army would overrun the city’s defenses and slaughter everyone in their sleep. By the third year, it was just another day. By the fifth year, she could hardly remember living in anywhere else. Now, she routinely prayed for the siege to be over so Tallon could play in the woods and run in fields of clover rather than having to entertain himself down by the docks.

Aleena rubbed her swollen belly. She was still two months from her due date but that did not mean her daughter did not like to remind her that she was ready for bed, at least she hoped for a girl this time. Truth be told, Aleena was tired but she wouldn’t turn in until Rjurik returned home.

When she heard someone clear their throat, Aleena’s mind snapped back to the present and she looked at their newest customer. Wiping off her hands, she smiled. “Welcome to the Inn of Quiet Repose. I’m Aleena, your hostess.”

Judging from the empty eye sockets and the scars around them, the old man in grey robes was blind. He leaned heavily on a strange black staff with five brass rings at the top that jingled and he walked. When he spoke, his voice was friendly and comforting. “Hello Aleena, I am looking for Anasazi. Is he around?”

“No sir but he’s due back any day now. He’s on the Morning Star and she normally puts in on the third day of each month.”

The old man nodded as if he expected that answer. “Ah yes, quite right, a room perhaps?”

Aleena glanced at the door and back to their guest. It was not that they did not have any rooms, they had plenty. She was just worried.

The old man must have noticed her hesitation. “If you are waiting for your husband, he’ll be along shortly or at least a messenger will be.”

“What? How do you know that?”

The old man shifted his stance slightly and leaned more heavily on his staff. “You said this is the Inn of Quiet Repose and that you are Aleena. Correct?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then your husband is Rjurik Silvershield, the Captain of the City Guards. He is busy at the moment investigating a situation at the front gate that will keep him tied up all night.”

The blood nearly drained out of Aleena’s face as she blurted out, “They’ve broken through!”

The old man began moving toward the guest rooms with Aleena a pace behind. “No, no, no. The Dark Alliance army has pulled back. The siege is over.”

“What? Why? How?”

The old man stopped. “You know, for an intelligent young lass you ask silly questions.”

Aleena started to say something crass but bit her tongue.

The old man began climbing the stairs. “Don’t be thinking the war is over.
It’s not. It is just expensive to lay siege to a city as large as Asylum, especially for eight years. But then, that was probably the plan all along.”

Aleena was lost. She had no idea what this crazy old man was talking about and could not think of anything more intelligent to say except, “What?”

“Eight? The number after seven but before nine. I thought since you worked as the hostess, you would know your numbers.”

“I can count! I just don’t understand the significance of the number eight.”

“Ah? My apologies. Eight is special to followers of Clotho since as a spider-like demoness she has eight legs. There is nothing more to it than that although she likes her followers to believe it is a mystical number. Hogwash.” He stopped at the door to room three. “Ah, here we are. Can you make sure I’m up by the third bell of the forenoon watch?”

“Yes, yes of course.” Aleena nodded her head and started to turn away but quickly turned back, “Sir?”

“Pau, Mithra Pau.”

“Goodnight Master Pau, I’ll see you at the third bell.”

As Aleena walked down the stairs and blew out the last four lanterns, two questions rolled through her mind. How did he know room three was empty and how did he know she was about to ask his name?

As she moved to her room, she forgot all her worries as her little warrior-princess kicked a few more times.

*    *    *   *    *

Rjurik did not believe the reports, so he had marched all the way to the front gates in the rain to see it with his own eyes and he still did not believe it. The army of the Dark Alliance was gone. Their camp, or should he say the remnants of their camp, was still there but no soldiers. It just did not make sense.

“Captain Silvershield.” 

Rjurik turned to see a young man in an odd-looking baggy silk outfit approaching him. He quickly searched his memory but he was sure that he did not recognize the stranger but that really did not mean anything. He had met scores of younglings over the centuries and he hardly recognized them when they became adults.

“Aye, that’d be me.”

The young man stopped in front of him and bowed low from the waist but never took his eyes off of the dwarf. “Pardon the intrusion Captain Silvershield but I needed to talk with you immediately concerning an event of great importance and your assistant said that you would be here.”

Rjurik might have liked the polite manners of the young man and his flowery speech but he was in the middle of something and did not have time for chitchat. However, eight years of dealing with politicians had taught him the value of curbing his tongue, so instead of barking at the youngster Rjurik just took a bite of tobacco off the block of leaf he always carried and stared.

Unfazed by the dwarf’s manners, the young man continued. “I am Ronin Waverider, Guardian of the Five Rings and once a companion to Kamots Hawkeye, Warlord of the Highland Nation.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so first off?” Just a mention of his lost friend had softened the old dwarf’s heart and changed his mannerisms. He spit out some of the dark tobacco laden juice and headed down the steps to the main gate.

Ronin cocked his head to the side and tried to understand the true meaning of the warrior’s words. After a moment, he shook his head and rushed to catch up. His master had reminded him time and time again to stop overanalyzing what everyone said and just accept the words for what they were.

Rjurik glanced over his shoulder. “Ronin, I remember that name. Hawkeye spoke highly of you and your blind master. How is the old goat?”

Ronin did a
double take. The old dwarf had just insulted his master but at the same time, the monk could tell that he did not mean it maliciously. It was odd.

“He is well. He is with your wife at the moment. Congratulations by the way, I understand that you are expecting your second child this summer?”

Rjurik nodded. “For someone I just met, you sure know a lot about me.”

Ronin grinned. “You must understand that I feel that I already know you. I’ve heard stories about Hawkeye and Tatianna my whole life. And of course, you’ve played a major role in many of those tales.”

That brought the old dwarf to a stop. “Now listen here youngster, I’m not some fancy hero in these tales you’ve heard. I’m just me.”

“I know that. Master Pau is
very grounded and has strived to prepare me for the day the Chosen One needs my help.”

At the mention of Graytael’s legendary title, Rjurik’s good mood
dissipated and he once again felt the burden of failure he had carried since the Day of Darkness. “Aye…one day perhaps, if Gray still lives.”

Ronin was almost cheerful when he responded. “Oh he’s alive, that’s why I’m here.”

“What? What do you mean? You know where he is?”

“No, I don’t know where he is exactly but Master Pau was waiting for a sign that the next stage of Darkness had begun.” Ronin gestured to the empty camp. “This is it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simple, the war is entering a completely different phase and the warriors on the side of the Gods need to change tactics, hence my arrival.”

“You have a plan?”

“Nay, my master does. I am but a tool, he is the sculptor.”

Rjurik shook his head. “That is too deep for me. I’m but a simple dwarf trying to make my way in this crazy world.”

“I am a leaf on the wind, watch me soar.”

Rjurik furrowed his brow. “Huh?”

Ronin grinned. “Just one of my favorite quotes from an ancient scroll, I use it to remind me that we are all subject to the whims of this world, no matter how we think otherwise.”

Rjurik spit out some of the excessive tobacco juice. “Come on. Let’s head back to the fortress.”

Ronin hesitated for a second before falling in behind him. He had been happy to discover that the dwarven captain was at the front gates. His master had been very specific. Rjurik could not be in the fortress at the calling of Four Bells of the Midwatch. The young monk had asked why and was more confused at his Master’s answer and the conversation that followed than he was before he had asked the question.

‘The next stage begins at the ringing of the Four Bells of Midwatch. Rjurik cannot be inside the Fortress at that time. Period. Do whatever you must but do not let him interfere with the impending attack.’

‘But Master, if there is an attack shouldn’t we prevent it?’

‘Nay, our destiny is not to save one soul but millions. If Rjurik is inside the Fortress when the attack begins, he will die and that will change the course the Gods have decreed for him.’

‘But Master, how do you know his fate?’

‘Ronin, there are more factions at work here than you know. Trust in your training, trust in your faith and do your duty. You are but a tool, I am the sculptor.’

‘Yes, Master, by your command.’

All this went through Ronin’s mind as they traversed the elevated passageways of Asylum. He knew it was almost time, he could feel it. He needed some way to distract the old dwarf and keep him from the entering the Fortress. When he noticed that the door they were approaching opened towards them, an idea came to mind. Quickening his steps, Ronin reached the door one step before him and slapped his hand on the doorway. Knowing he needed to distract the veteran dwarf, he asked the one question he knew would get do the trick.

“Rjurik, I’m curious…have you heard any rumors about Graytael? I’m certain you searched for him, right?”

The old dwarf stopped and turned his body to face the young monk. “No…not a word in eight years. There were rumors of a slaver camp on the eastern shores of the Crystal Sea but by the time the Asylum navy made it there, it was abandoned. Of course, that was almost a year after the Day of Darkness but it was our only lead. If he lived long enough to make it to the camp, then he’d been sold as a slave and is who knows where.”

As Ronin kept him talking, the monk slipped a small wedge of wood out of his sleeve and into the top crack between the door and frame. “Do you still believe him to be alive?”

Rjurik nodded. “Aye, that I do. I can’t explain it but I know he’s still out there, just waiting for the day to break free from his bonds.” He swirled the tobacco juices around in his mouth for a moment before spitting again. “Hell, I probably wouldn’t even recognize him these days. He’d be nineteen now, no wait, twenty.”

Before the monk could respond, two sounds reached their ears, the chiming of the four bells marking the second hour of Midwatch and the sounds of fighting from inside the Fortress.

The dwarven Captain did not waste any time and slung his namesake off his back and onto his stump of a hand. With the other, he tugged on the door and prepared to bolt through. Tugging again, harder….the door opened ever so slightly but barely even enough to peek through.

“Bromios’ beard, the door is jammed and the Fortress is under attack!”

Ronin tugged also, not hard but enough to seem as if he was trying to open it. “It’s stuck. Is there any other way through?”

“Aye, this way!” Without waiting to see if the monk followed, Rjurik turned away and bolted down the passageway.

Ronin pulled free the small wedge and pocketed it before following the veteran dwarf. Part one of his mission had been accomplished, now he had to make sure that Rjurik stayed alive through the attack.