The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains (56 page)

“
To the Prince!”
All fifty men, Aelaine, the Chancellor, and Sir Liogan raised either hand or blade and chanted the same. They followed their king down the hill to the east, ready for war. All hoping an army would arrive to wage it with them.

Lavress looked north to the grove in the distance. He saw Niastae, though no one else would see the sphinx behind the sacred stones, not on a glorious charge with their king. He saw Grnikol, swarmed with sprites and pixies, outside the banyan tree circle. They had been watching, listening from afar, hidden by the trees and grasses that surrounded the Temple of the Whitemoon.

The hunter bowed, then gave the sign of peace and love, from heart, to lips, then brow. They returned the blessed sign, then wandered back into the grove beyond sight. He ran after the ensemble with a revived king, a young knight, a mighty lady of the arcane, and a Chancellor of Alden. Lavress knew his mission now, though not from any one being within his order of the Hedim Anah. He knew his going had come from the words and will of someone much higher than that.

Exodus III:X

Dead Man’s Pass, Misathi Mountains

“Is that…water?” Gwenneth looked to the waterskin Shinayne held out. Her vision was blurry, the heat had been terrible for three days, it was making her sick.

“Drink. It is bitter, from a spiral cactus we found, but it will help.” Shinayne was tired, the midday sun reminded her of their predicament, stole her strength, and even she had to rest in the shade of a rocky outcropping.

“How much did you get?” James, a little more used to dehydration from his years of drinking only wine, was faring only mildy better in the scorching vale.

“Two skins worth, Saberrak found them actually. Here, take the other.”

James drank little, saving it for Zen who plodded up to them and into the forgiving shadow of the rocks above.

“Is that water, tell me it’s water. Just lie to me and say it be water.” Zen was covered in sweat, his head was burned, his ears peeling, dragging his armor on his shield with a leather belt tied to the armstraps.

“Just for you, take it, I am fine.” James handed the skin to the dwarven priest.

“Ahhh…bitter water, warm, but it does the trick, eh?”

“Saberrak is looking for more of the plants. They have water near the bases of their roots. It is quiet out there, not even a vulture, nor hyena, nor crow in sight for a day and a half.” Shinayne drank what little was left in the waterskin Gwenneth handed back.

“Any more of those skulled totems?” James let the warm dry air blow on his face, closing his eyes to rest them from the constant glare.

“Plenty. Recent blood painted on a few as of late, they are watching us. I sense them in the peaks and highpoints, I hear them at night, they are waiting, hunting us.” The elf looked around the cliffs now, seeing nothing.

“How many?” Zen asked, savoring the water in his belly.

“I heard as many as eight chanting from one spot, women. I have seen none though. Saberrak says there are more, he can smell them.”

“What do we do, hunt
them
?” Gwenne blurted it out, not wanting to move.

“No, they are quick, that is what they want, for us to track them and tire. We would waste our time. We could set a trap. Lay out in the open, feign injury and moan, that may get them to come closer. But, keeping west and moving fast is the best bet. They surely are not going to follow forever.”

“What if they just want us far enough away from Marlennak? Far enough that no one will be near to hear or help?” James did not like planning against those he could not see, nor being hunted so far from any civilization.

“How far Zen, how much further to Evermont at the end of the pass?” Gwenne tried to wake up fully, her mind just speaking what came to it.

“Eight, nine days for certain. Maybe more. We sure picked the wrong season to do it.” Zen stood, knowing if he didn’t, he would have a harder time standing in a few minutes as his body relaxed.

“Those storms would sure be nice to have, they would bring some refreshing rain to the valley. Shame they never pass any further north, they just hover over the southern side of the mountains, day after day. Strange weather here.” Shinayne watched the clouds, they nearly seemed the same, every day, going from east to west. She shook her head, the heat and monotony was getting to her mind. She needed to meditate.

“No dragon either, right?” James asked, not at all frightened. At this point a fight, some fire, anything was better that the dry starving and thirsting in the valley.

“No, no sign of her. Likely gave up or we lost her. A wyrm that size cannot hide, we could spot it ten miles away in the sky. Come on, let’s get moving.” The elven noblewoman smiled to her exhausted friends, seeing them to their feet, and set out ahead to find her horned companion.

Shinayne saw Saberrak up on a cliff, she ran up to stand with him. He was still, she made some noise to let him know she was approaching, still he did not move at all. She walked up to him, admiring the wind in her hair and the view of a dozen valleys, more treacherous and small than Deadman’s Pass. She looked to his face, his eyes were faintly blue, effervescent, like shadows of sapphire hung below his brow above the tattoos. He looked down to her then the light vanished.

“Your eyes again. What is it?”

“I can feel
him
, he is going to return home now, but cannot find the way alone. He has a guide, she is taking him somewhere north of here.”

“Who?”

“Annar.”

“Well, that is good then, I would guess?”

“Not sure.”

“What do you think it means? If he is who the scroll says, what you believe him to be, then home would mean a good place. Gods belong in the heavens, right?”

“Not sure. I never learned these things, remember?” Saberrak was calm, curious, dealing with feelings he had not asked for nor knew how to interpret.

“You have your path,
our path
, and our journey. You freed him, if he needed any more of you, you would know.” Shinayne grasped, she did not know much of that sort of thing either.

“No, I do not feel I need to go, just that I am, I can, he is…”

“Connected.”

“Yes, that.”

“I feel that often, with Lavress. It is different, but the same. Cherish it, feel it, do not fight it. It will help when times are most difficult, I assure you.” Shinayne put her hand on his shoulder.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t. But, it is better than trying to silently surmise it all on your own, on top of a cliff, in the middle of the sweltering heat, while we need to be finding food and water. Come on,
Saberrak Agrannar o’ the Grays
, come on.”

He smiled, just hearing his name felt like nothing he had ever experienced. He had always been Saberrak the slave, the gladiator, son of Tathlyn, a piece of property meant to kill. He followed his elven partner, scouting down into the valley, running when any man would give up, any ordinary minotaur would tire, but not him.

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Water, cold and wet, then more was dumped on him. The bucket hit the rocks, he heard laughter, much laughter from all around. Tannek tried to open his eyes, he raised his hand to shield his face, even the shade was too bright.

“Get up brother. Me wife,
Chordene,
she wants a word with ye’.”

It was Drodunn’s voice, he knew his wife never liked him, he tried to stand even though he could not see anything yet. He fell, more laughter rose from so many around, his head pounded. Tannek knew he was still drunk, his legs were almost numb and his stomach felt as if he would vomit any moment. He rubbed his eyes, trying to see.

Smack, smack

“Allright, she wanted
two
words then.” Drodunn corrected.

Tannek felt his face turn red from the hard slaps of his brothers’ wife, he knew them well all these years. He had earned many.

“Taking the long road to the mines, eh? Hundred years it is then.” Tannek saw his men now, armed, staring at him and none too happy despite the laughter at his inebriation.

“No, brother.”

“
Life
in the mines? I hate that king, really I do.”

“No, not that brother.”

“Shart, they gonna have my own men execute us then? Blasted Therrak. He always hated the southern scouts, jealous he was. Thought it would at least been a toss into the crevice.” Tannek stood now, wobbly as he was. “At least I go out drunk. Allright, get it over with.”

High Hammer Brunnwik handed him an axe, patted him on the shoulder, and walked back by Drodunn.

“What? I gots to do it to me self? Now that is just too much! Ye’ tell Therrak to come down and handle it like a dwarf, like a king should!” His eyes saw blurred outlines now, the northern doors, but his southern men. Wagons, five hundred armed men around him for sure. One wagon had a stone coffin. A look of confusion washed over him.

“I am dead already. This not be real. I lost, and they killed me, and this is Mount Maonell, the home o’ Vundren. Oh, shart, they killed ye’ too?” Tannek had tears in his eyes.

“No brother. Ye’ won.”

“I won?”

“Ye’ don’t remember, do ye’?”

“Nope.”

“Do ye’ remember the rematch the next day, for a hundred more men and double the supplies?”

“Nope.”

“How about the rematch last night, for King Therrak’s battle axe?”

“Nope, can’t say that I do.” Tannek looked to the axe in his hand, it was not his. It was definitely gold and kingly, much like King Therraks. In fact it was.

“And the last one, this morning? For his underpants? Ye’ remember that one?” Drodunn shook his head.

Tannek pulled his trousers open, looked, they were not his. Nice and silky and green with axes and spears lining the cloth. Laughter erupted from the five hundred dwarves around them at the north doors of Marlennak.

“These aren’t mine, brother.”

“I know, ye’ won all damn four challenges. It got a bit stupid toward the end. Neither one of ye’ could really talk much.”

“Aye, bet it did.” Tannek laughed as much as his throbbing head would allow.

“So, we’re all officially exiled. With five hundred dwarves, the relics of Sheldathain, hell the whole sarcophogous on a wheeled wagon, and ye’ be in command.” Drodunn patted his brother on the shoulder, smiling. Then he punched him right across the face, knocking him to the ground.

“Aye, I deserve that I s’pose. Any more?”

“No, ye’ be my brother, I love ye’, but aye ye’ deserved that one. Ye’ always drink too much, and well, ye’ escalate things a bit. Kings underpants and axe and all that, what the hells were ye’ thinkin’? Now, we can never return home unless the kings both pardon us. And ye’ know one of em’ won’t.” Drodunn pulled his brother back up to his feet.

“Aye, ye’ know, yer wife hits harder than ye’ do though.”

“That is cuz’ she really hates ye’, especially now.”

“And you?”

“Naye, yer me blood, an Anduvann, we are all in this together now, like it or no.”

“Now what?” Tannek looked around.

“If it were me, I would raise that damn axe ye’ won really high. Then, I would yell somethin’ like
on to Kakisteele
, or
to King Thalanaxe
, or thereabouts. Up to you.”

“
Which way we goin’, before I sound off and look a fool?”
Tannek whispered so no one would hear.

“
North brother, the wagons won’t survive the pass through the mountains. We make for the Shanador Tradeway, open road. That way we can catch Azenairk somewhere before the Kaki Mountains, they got a three day lead on us, and no supplies. So we need to hurry
.” Drodunn smiled, his eyes motioning toward the north.

“Is it really out there? Ye’ think?” Tannek looked to his older brother.

“Aye, ye’ better believe it is, at least until we find out different.”

Tannek Anduvann, former Marshall, turned to the five hundred men in front of him. He tried not to fall over.

“Men o’ the Southern Outguard Scout! Ye’ no longer be dwarves o’ Marlennak, today, ye’ be Vundren’s chosen!” Tannek Anduvann raised King Therraks axe high.

Tannek!

Tannek!

Tannek!

“We be headin’ west, exiled we is, chasin’ after the rightful king and heir to Kakisteele, and the holy forge of our Father! I know there ain’t no sissies in me’ company, there n’er was one, and n’er will be! So, me western scouts o’ the sacred forge, me holy battlebeards of the lost mines, march north! To
King Thalanaxe
!” Tannek yelled until his voice went hoarse.

To King Thalanaxe!

Five hundred and three dwarves, and one lewirja that had just emerged from the northern doors on a full run, yelled loud and proud, surely the kings deep on their thrones felt it, and heard it clear as day.

“Well spoken brother, always escalatin’ it, but well spoken indeed.” Drodunn walked with the High Hammer Brunnwik who was guarding the coffin, sitting upon the wagon pulled by eight donkeys all reined together. Drodunn sat with him, and took the reins.