Empire of Bones (9 page)

“They were created by dark magic during the Mage War,” Kodan insisted. “Their sole purpose is to serve our cause.”

“They were created by Men, not the dark gods and certainly not by us,” Amar reminded harshly. “We have no dominion over such creatures.”

“I thought we served the dark gods,” Kodan Bak attacked.

Pelthit Re glided back, careful to remain neutral in the event they came to blows. Ideations of stealing power entertained him for the time being.

Amar bristled with raw energy. “You dare question me?”

“Only your sense of purpose. Perhaps these mortals have eluded you for so long you no longer know how best to neutralize them?”

Rather than lashing out rashly, Amar folded his arms across his chest and decided to hear his subordinate out. The time was fast approaching when he would be able to remove the troublesome Bak without much effort, but not yet. Not until the dark gods returned to claim dominance over all life on Malweir. Surely they wouldn’t begrudge him one minor act of retribution for all his years of dedicated service. “Explain yourself.”

Kodan, thinking he had finally gained the upper hand, answered, “Gnaals are beings of pure dark magic. The Mages are gone, we helped see to that, but their creations still haunt Malweir. They answer to dark magic.”

“Giving us control over them,” Amar finished. The idea had merit and he was disappointed he hadn’t thought of it himself. “This idea warrants attention. Find them, Kodan Bak. Enslave them to our purpose and send them after the princess and her fool wizard. I want that group dead long before they reach the jungle temple. Artiss Gran will not have his chance to execute his revenge.”

“What of the Hags?” Pelthit Re asked. Ever the one to exercise caution, the lesser Dae’shan focused solely on his subjugation of Delranan and Harnin One Eye.

“Useless creatures,” Kodan hissed sharply.

Amar held up a staying hand. “The Harpies still serve a purpose. Have them brought to me. I have a specific task they need to accomplish before their servitude ends.”

“They have failed more times than not and only two remain,” Kodan reminded them.

Harpies had been hunted to near extinction and what remained were sorry representations of what they had once been. Three had been contracted to harry and harass Bahr upon leaving Chadra. Instead of performing adequately, the Hags grew careless and made their play much too soon, or too late depending on the point of view. One of them had been mortally wounded, leaving the two survivors sulking in their mountain haunts. Kodan regarded them as useless in every aspect and couldn’t figure out why Amar continued to keep them on a leash.

“Their assault on the wizard was…unfortunate, but that doesn’t negate their uses. Instruct the Gnaals to kill all but the princess.”

“You mean to capture her again?” Kodan asked, the surprise in his voice was too evident for his liking and told Amar just how eager he was to forge a new destiny for the Dae’shan.

Amar fixed him with a deadly glare but said nothing. Let the fool stew in his anticipation.

Hunted

The night grew much darker than any they’d ever experienced in the north. Hundreds, thousands of insects chirped or hummed. Large predators with luminescent eyes watched them from the safety of the jungle. Occasional loud crashes sounded out, making those few still awake cringe. All but Rekka and Anienam found the jungle alien. Even Boen, whose travels had taken him around the world and into almost every imaginable environment, felt displaced. His grip never left the hilt of his sword.

As soon as he dragged himself up out of the wreckage of the barge he gathered his weapons and patrolled the surrounding area. This was no place to leave anything to chance. Veteran of a hundred campaigns, the Gaimosian was finally back in his element. The freedom of moving alone and at speed thrilled him. He crept past fallen trees and blended with bushes. He froze when strange sounds reached his ears. His eyes, once dulled, were now sharp, watching everything with great interest. He was the warrior again.

Unbridled, Boen circled wide around the wreckage. He found one of the horses lying twisted with a large tree jutting from the ribcage. Grimacing at the horrible death suffered, Boen gave the mare a final pat on the neck before moving on. He fully expected to run into another party of river Men anxious for revenge. Scum like that were little better than herd animals. He harbored no qualms about slaughtering them. Just like they deserved.

His turn at guard duty came and went but he couldn’t find sleep. His nerves were wound too tightly. Boen snorted. He was always wound too tight. Men in his profession often were. Only the strongest became fully acknowledged Gaimosian warriors. Each was promised a lifetime of wandering, trying to find their niche in life. They held no titles other than Vengeance Knights. No homes. No lands to call their own. They were the children of the world and executed their special brand of justice on those found wanting. Boen discovered early on that he thoroughly enjoyed his life’s calling. For him there could be no other way.

The call of a jungle cat followed closely by a strangled cry and silence forced his eyes open. Boen stared skyward, enjoying the stars one final time before they entered the thick, double canopy of the jungle. Heavy rustling drew his attention without raising his guard. Whatever had killed the animal was finished and unconcerned with this large of a group. Kill or be killed. It was the law of life. Boen gradually closed his eyes and let sleep claim him.

Dawn broke with unusual splendor. The dark clouds were gone, replaced by crystalline blue skies and only the faintest wisps of clouds. Boen yawned and stretched. His muscles were sore from sleeping on the hard ground again after so long. His neck felt pinched and his eyes were red, sore. He’d never felt more alive. Decades of life in the field trained him to endure moments like this. Fatigue often set in on the less experienced, the younger. He was beyond that. The soreness would pass and he’d be back to his normal self soon enough. All he needed was a few moments of solitude. Hungry, he decided to take his sword and run through a series of warm-up exercises and drills. There was only shame in being caught unprepared.

Dorl propped up on his elbows and watched Boen whirl through his drills. He’d never seen the like. The Gaimosian moved with such precision it hardly seemed real. Dorl thanked whatever god was listening that he didn’t run afoul of any Gaimosians.

“He has much experience. You should know this already,” Rekka chided from beneath the blanket next to him.

Dorl couldn’t help but grin. They’d lain together long into the night, enjoying the feel of each other’s arms. They kissed for a while before sheer exhaustion set in. He enjoyed the intimacy they shared while secretly wondering if it was going to last when things went sour. Rekka was a capable warrior with more skills than he could ever hope to possess. That left him a liability. He couldn’t decide whether she’d cut and run or stand by him to the bitter end.

“I’ve never seen him actually practice. I thought Gaimosians were born with the killer gene,” he admitted.

“Perhaps they are but every weapon needs to be honed before it can be put to use. They are a proud people, from what little I know. He is a good Man.”

From what he gathered, Dorl seemed surrounded by good Men. That and a handful of good intentions wouldn’t buy him a pint in the local tavern. “These aren’t times for good Men, Rekka. Malweir needs rough Men who are ready to visit violence on others.”

“That is a dour outlook,” she replied. “It would serve you better to abandon it before we get too far into the jungle.”

The jungle. He felt unrealized fear at the very thought. “What lies within?”

“Many things,” she answered too quickly for his liking. “There is great beauty as well as mystery. Death and life are boon companions. It is the most dangerous environment I have ever been in.”

“That doesn’t help my confidence,” he said flatly.

Rekka’s hazel eyes shined in the morning sun. “Nor should it. The jungle is capable of killing in a thousand different ways. Caution alone will not be enough to ensure our safe passage. Take heart though, my love, all is not bad. I grew up here. I can keep us alive long enough to accomplish our task.”

Dorl wasn’t entirely sure but had no other option but to trust in her abilities. She was their only link to the inside world of the jungle. He sighed and started to get up. “I hope this Hamr is worth it. I have a feeling we’re about to have plenty more dumped on us before the end.”

Rekka cocked her head, failing to understand what he meant by dumped. “Our enemies will not tire, Dorl. Neither can we. This task goes well beyond your personal needs or mine. All Malweir stands in the balance. If we fail, the world will plunge into eternal darkness.”

“You really believe that?” he asked.

“Yes. The guardian of Trennaron is very wise, ancient. He knows the dark times approaching have been heralded for centuries. As does Anienam, they are akin to each other.”

The idea that another venerable magic user locked in his ivory tower for countless centuries contemplated the end of the world didn’t sit well with him. Having Anienam around was maddening enough, he didn’t relish the thought of being around two such beings.
No wonder the world banded together to end the Mage orders. They can’t be trusted.

“Everybody up and pack! We need to get moving before the sun gets too high,” Bahr called from beside the stack of supplies. He and Nothol were already loading what they could on the horses. Some Groge put in his pack and hefted to his shoulders. The Giant had near infinite capacity to carry the heavy load.

Weary from a waterlogged night, the tiny band forged ahead into the jungle.

They kept moving until dusk, stopping only at Rekka’s insistence. Going through the motions of a, by now, well-rehearsed exercise, they established camp and began the guard roster. The sun set without fanfare as the darkness swallowed the jungle. Insects and worse emerged from their daytime hiding spots. The jungle took on a completely different feel. It was claustrophobic, haunted.

Bahr didn’t mind so much. He’d never been this far south but wasn’t letting that stop him from enjoying this new world. Ever the explorer, Bahr studied the trees, insects, and what rare animals he found lurking through the thousand shades of green. Now older than he liked to admit, the dispossessed sea captain stifled a yawn. He seldom took later watches, knowing he was already past the point of exhaustion. Aside from Boen, he was the oldest of the group. Anienam didn’t count, since no one rightly knew how old the wizard was and they didn’t trust him to pull guard duty correctly anyway.
Let the young ones pull the middle shifts. I’m getting too old for games
. He smiled despite being beaten down and in need of a long vacation.

Bahr stiffened suddenly. His skin crawled with intense feelings of evil. Cold sweat poured from his flesh. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. A hand slid to his sword, subconsciously knowing it wouldn’t be enough even if he managed to draw it in time. Almost frozen from fear, Bahr desperately scanned the area for signs of his assailant. Darkness leered back at him. The jungle was the darkest he’d ever seen, making it next to impossible to see more than a few meters into the murk. He was blind. Frightened.

Heavy footsteps announced the approach of a massive predator. The ground trembled with each fall. Leaves fell from branches. Stones cracked and shattered. Bats and nocturnal birds erupted from the treetops in waves. The cold feeling of dread continued to rise, as if the very world had grown diseased. Bahr felt bile rise in his throat. A pair of crimson eyes opened, staring directly into his soul. He cringed. Unable to look away or blink, the Sea Wolf watched as death stalked closer.

The flash of light blinded him. He roared in pain. “Be gone from here!”

He didn’t know who shouted or why. The dread slowly bled away. He could move again. Bahr drew his sword and staggered to his feet. Ragged spots peppered his vision, causing him to stumble and fall to his knees. Bracing himself, Bahr emptied his stomach onto the lush green undergrowth.

“Bahr, are you injured?”

He tried to look up only to discover he still couldn’t see. “I’m blind.”

“That is just a side effect of the magic. Your sight will return shortly.”

“Anienam?”

“Yes. It’s me. You’re out of danger now,” the wizard replied soothingly.

After suffering through a series of dry heaves, Bahr managed to ask, “What was that?”

“An evil from old times. It was a creation of the dark Mages and their lust for depredation. A Gnaal.”

“Gnaal?”

“A demon of immense power,” Anienam explained. “It has a singular purpose once loosed upon the target. I’m afraid we are being hunted.”

Bahr’s strength gave out and he slumped down. “Will it return tonight? I need to rouse the others. We can’t…”

“Rest, Captain. I will see to the others. The Gnaal wasn’t expecting to find a wizard so I doubt it will be back soon. There will be time in the morning to formulate a proper action. Now rest, I have work to do.”

Bahr swooned as darkness claimed him.

“How do you keep from getting bit?” Nothol asked and frowned at the proud Dwarf captain pushing his way through the thick underbrush like a bull.

Ironfoot chuckled under his breath. “You clearly don’t know much about Dwarves, lad. We’ve got so much iron in our blood these bugs would die upon biting us! If they could even pierce my skin. Tough as animal hide, it is. We Dwarves are made tough.”

Jagged patches of sunlight managed to penetrate the increasingly thickening canopy at random, offering light in an otherwise gloomy atmosphere. Humidity levels rose with the sun until many of their group found it unbearable. The undergrowth grew so thick Bahr was forced to have them dismount and go on foot, furthering their misery. The deadly combination of blood-sucking insects and oppressive heat sparked thoughts of turning around less than a day into their journey.

No one spoke of Bahr’s encounter with the Gnaal. Anienam worked quickly to establish more powerful wards afterwards, and briefed them all at dawn. There wasn’t anything for it, however, and the band was forced to push ahead. The Gnaal would be back once the sun relinquished its hold on the world. They would meet it then and could only push it to the back of their minds in the meantime. Brute strength wasn’t of any use against the dark creature, leaving Anienam their one sole hope of defeating it.

Nothol slapped at his neck, again, pulling his hand away along with the blood-smeared remains of a dark black mosquito with white bands. He frowned. Rekka was normally taciturn when it came to speaking to the group but she had no qualms discussing the seemingly unending multitudes of diseases and illnesses caused by the bugs of her homeland. Nothol was certain he was going to contract one or more before they reached Trennaron. Sadly, they wouldn’t have time to construct a proper funeral. He’d never be cremated, thus trapping his soul in the soft ground for eternity as bugs and creatures devoured his remains. The prospect didn’t sit well.

“Rekka, isn’t there something you can do about this? You’re not getting bothered at all,” Nothol begged. His skin had dozens of irritated spots filled with poison from insect bites.

The salve she’d made earlier was nearly gone and they would need to stop and forage through the jungle to find the proper ingredients. Time they didn’t have. She looked at Dorl’s best friend and slowly shook her head though it hurt her to do so. She and Dorl helped the others with what supplies she had while they lasted but they were dwindling fast. She briefly contemplated using the last of it now but that would only leave them sorely in need later, when they truly needed it. Teng was still days away, perhaps longer given the length of their column.

“I am sorry, Nothol Coll, but you know I cannot use the last of it without the ability to make more,” she replied.

He frowned despite already knowing the answer. He just wished it were different. “Rekka, I don’t like your jungle.”

“I am sure the jungle feels the same about us,” she said glibly. “We are invaders. The jungle will not adapt to us so we must learn to adapt to its ways. Too many outsiders come here without learning that lesson. You will see their skeletons along our path. Brodein is very dangerous and unforgiving.”