The Gateway (Harbinger of Doom Volume 1) (11 page)

“
Here it is,” shouted Dolan, as he
pointed to a glowing piece of obsidian on the floor.

Claradon stepped up next to Dolan holding a
large hammer. “For my father!” he shouted as he slammed the hammer
down onto the shard, smashing it to tiny pieces. The gateway
instantly disappeared and the chaotic din abruptly stopped. Where
the gateway once was, now remained only the crumbled back wall of
the sinister temple.

Before the men could rejoice in their victory,
a loud rumbling began. Within moments, the very earth beneath their
feet began to shake. They heard roaring and rumbling sounds like
those produced by a herd of large beasts. Mammoth chunks of stone
fell from the high ceiling.

“
The whole place is collapsing,”
said Dolan.

“
Grab the wounded and get them out
of here,” shouted Theta.

They did so and fled as the otherworldly
structure collapsed around them. Two minutes after the earth began
to shake; the evil edifice was no more. Only a mound of rubble and
a cloud of dust remained. Those that made it out of the vile temple
lay strewn about the circle of desolation. Some collapsed from
exhaustion, some collapsed from blood loss, still others were
already dead. Strangely, the sun was beginning to rise. It was
dawn. Somehow, the bizarre atmosphere within the temple’s depths
had distorted the flow of time itself, turning what seemed like no
more than minutes into more than six hours.

Young Sir Paldor was immediately sent ahead to
Dor Eotrus to summon aid, stopping only a few minutes to bandage
the wound on his chest. Tanch and Claradon set about to aid the
wounded in the party. Theta and Dolan searched for sign of the
skull-faced fiend that had fled the temple. They found no trail, no
spoor of the beast. It had vanished. They found the corpses of six
knights at the edge of the circle, however. Apparently, they had
fled during the battle and were killed by the skull-faced fiend or
some other horror that had also escaped.

After a short while, the survivors gathered
about and Sir Glimador reported the casualty list. Eighteen knights
were confirmed dead, eleven others were missing and presumed buried
in the collapsed temple. Of Dor Eotrus’s knights only Glimador,
Artol, Indigo, Paldor, and Claradon still lived. To everyone’s
astonishment, Sir Gabriel was amongst the missing. Nearly all the
survivors were wounded to varying degrees, although most not
seriously. Theta was a bloody mess, covered in ichor and gore from
head to toe, though little, if any of the blood seemed to be his.
Once the men had caught their breath, Claradon recounted what he
saw of the epic battle between Korrgonn and Sir Gabriel - even
Theta listened intently. All were shocked at Gabriel’s gruesome
fate. “The skalds will tell of that battle for ages to come,” said
Artol, tears streaming down his face.

“
Perhaps Sir Gabriel still lives,”
Claradon said, as he saw to Ob’s grievous wound, only half
believing there was some hope. “Perhaps we can free him of the
influence of the monster.”

“
I just cannot believe this,” said
Ob, “Last week McDuff, then Aradon and Brother Donnelin and Par
Talbon, and now Gabriel. How could this happen? Nobody could beat
Gabriel. Nobody.” His hand reached for his wineskin, but it was
lost.

“
It’s the end of the world,” said
Tanch. “I told you it was coming – no one wanted to listen, but I
foretold it. These are the end times.”

Overcome by all that had happened, Claradon
dropped to both knees and wept. His father and his mentor both
destroyed at the hands of chaos, and so many other friends and
comrades as well. It was all too much; his head was swimming. He
gripped Ob’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and recited a prayer to
Odin.

“
Steady boy,” said Ob, his voice
weak from his wounds and his eyes only half opened, “You’re the
Lord of the Land now. You mustn’t show weakness in front of the
troops.” Due to his wounds, Ob apparently didn’t realize that
nearly all ‘the troops’ were dead.

“
Perhaps, we can cast out the
monster from Sir Gabriel. We must find him,” said Tanch.

“
I’m doubting it pal,” said Ob
weakly, “Gabe’s the toughest son of a bitch this side of Odin.
Ain’t nothing, not even some damn chaos lord as can take him over
if he’s alive. He’s dead and it took his corpse I say. And that’s
the end of him.”

“
Oh my. Don’t say such things
Master Ob, we have to try the save him.”

“
The gnome speaks truly,” said
Theta. “Gabriel is lost. There’s nothing we can do for him save to
avenge him.” Theta pulled a metallic flask from his belt; uncorked
the top and put it to Ob’s lips.

“
You fought bravely, gnome,” said
Theta. “Drink this, it will strengthen you.” Ob did so. Almost at
once the flow of blood from Ob’s wound stopped and color returned
to his face.

The survivors soon headed back to the Dor as
fast as they dared. With them they brought as many of their fallen
comrades as they could manage, including Lord Eotrus’s body, what
little remained of it. Patrols would soon return for the rest of
the honored dead.

On the way, Par Tanch approached Claradon. He
spoke in a stronger, deeper and steadier voice than was his custom.
“Brother Claradon,” he said, taking care that no one else
overheard, “Though I know this timing is poor, I must advise you
that the Order of the Arcane, and likely the Crown, for reasons of
their own, will never allow the events of last night to be known.
They will cover it up. Some story will be fabricated to account for
the battle, the howling in the woods, the fog. They will force you
and your officers to swear to never reveal the truth.”

Claradon’s eyes narrowed as he was taken aback
by these words. “And what if I don’t go along with these lies? What
if I want everyone to know the truth of how father and Sir Gabriel
died?”

“
Then they will destroy you.
You’ll lose the Dor and your good name, perhaps even your very
life.”

“
Would they really go so far?
Could they?”

“
They would, they could, and
they’ve done such things before. I’ve seen it.”

“
But King Tenzivel has always been
a friend to us. He would never allow this.”

“
The king is old, Claradon. Dark
voices whisper in his ear these days. Things are changing in
Lomion, my friend, and not for the better - we cannot count on the
King’s support.”

“
Then what are we to
do?”

“
Let us be the ones to create the
tale. That way we can be assured that Lord Eotrus, Sir Gabriel and
the others are honored as the heroes that they are. We can say that
a pack of trolls came down from the mountains and caused all the
trouble. There was a time when trolls rampaged through these lands,
causing much death and destruction. Though rarely seen these days,
they’re still much feared and are considered exceedingly deadly.
Any knight that fell in battle to a pack of such beasts whilst
protecting his lands would be rightly named a hero.”

“
And how would we explain the
wailing in the night?”

“
We’d say it was the trolls. Few
alive in these parts have ever heard the call of a troll. If we say
that that’s what they heard, most would believe us.”

“
And the fog and the thundering
explosions the night father was lost?”

“
A freakish storm, nothing more.
Claradon, I know this is difficult, but we must do this. We must
protect the Eotrus name or your enemies will use this opportunity
to destroy you. We’ve little choice in this. Besides, we will
always know the truth. The people will know that our comrades died
as heroes defending the Dor. What does it matter that people think
they fell to trolls rather than chaos demons? A hero is a
hero.”

“Very well, very well. For the sake of my
brothers, I’ll go along with this. But know well, if it were only
my position and my life at stake, I’d tell the Order to go to hell,
and the Crown too, if need be.”

“
I don’t doubt it, Master
Claradon.”

“
What of Paldor? He’s likely
telling the tale even now.”

“
He hit his head in the battle. He
became delusional and wandered off. He didn’t know what he was
saying.”

“
You think of everything, don’t
you, Par Tanch.”

“
It’s my job, Sir. It’s my job.
We’ll not be able to keep the truth from the senior knights at the
Dor though. You’ll have to swear them to secrecy and all of us here
as well, of course.”

“
It will be done.”

Claradon awoke in his bed to Ob shaking him.
“Get off your duff you lazy bugger! The men are in the great hall
already. We need to get you down there right quick. Mister
know-it-all, fancy pants is giving a speech. The boys need to know
you’re the boss now, not that foreigner, nor anybody
else.”

Claradon’s head still spun from the tale Ob
told him the previous night, as Claradon stood by the wounded
gnome’s bedside. The last days seemed a maddened dream. Claradon
pulled himself together as best he could, splashing some water on
his face to revive himself. He strapped on his sword belt and
headed to great hall.

In the interests of keeping their secret,
knights guarded the doors, only admitting ranking knights who knew
the truth of what happened in the wood. When Ob and Claradon
arrived, Theta was standing at the forefront, addressing the men.
The knights were rallying around him, bristling for a fight,
enraged as they were over the loss of their Lord and their
comrades. Each time Theta spoke, the knights quieted
down.

“
We have to destroy his body,”
Theta boomed in his strong, steady voice. “When we do, we’ll be
killing Korrgonn, not Gabriel. But it won’t be easy. Korrgonn not
only has all of his own knowledge and skills, but now he also hath
Gabriel’s. Now he is far more dangerous than ever before. Now he
knows all that Gabriel knew. No one will be safe until we put him
down. And do not forget the skull-faced demon – that creature was
Mortach of Chaos. He must be destroyed as well.”

“
Oh my,” said Tanch. “Two Chaos
Lords running about; it’s the end.”

Artol stepped forward. “We must find them and
destroy them for what they’ve done, however difficult the
task.”

“
We shall track our enemies to the
ends of Midgaard, and beyond if need be,” boomed Theta. “We shall
cleanse the world of their plague.”

A cheer erupted in the hall, the knights
rising to their feet and shaking their fists.

“
There can be no other course of
action,” boomed Theta.

After the noise died down, Tanch said, “This
sounds like we’re embarking on a major undertaking. It may be that
my delicate back isn’t up to the challenge. Perhaps I can do more
good tending to the wounded or praying to Odin in support of this
valiant quest.” The knights laughed at the cowardly wizard and
poked fun at him.

Claradon moved through the ranks. “No, Par
Tanch. I’ll need you in this. You’ll come with us. We shall go back
to the Vermion, to the circle and pick up the trail of the chaos
lords. We’ll not return until we rid this world of
them.”

Ob cleared the way ahead of Claradon. “All
right, Theta, move aside,” shouted Ob, pushing through the troops
to the front of the hall. Theta glared at the gnome, stood his
ground, but said nothing.

“
Claradon is here now and will be
taking over.” Ob climbed atop a table and turned to the gathered
knights, his arms upraised. He motioned for quiet. “Brother
Claradon, as first son of House Eotrus, and upon Lord Aradon’s
passing, is now Lord of the Dor, and Patriarch of House Eotrus. You
will serve him with the same respect and honor with which you
served Aradon afore him. And if you don’t, I’ll rip your stinking
heads off!”

“
Long live Lord Claradon,” boomed
Sir Artol, from amidst the knights.

“
Long live Lord Claradon,” shouted
all the knights in response.

“
And death to the Chaos Lords,”
boomed Sir Artol, standing and raising his fist to the
air.

“
Death to the Chaos Lords,” boomed
the whole company in retort.

“
I guess we won’t be going home
anytime soon, Lord Angle,” whispered Dolan.

“
Not for some time,
Dolan.”

“
When do you think them evil-doers
will leave us be so we can live like regular folks?”

“
When I’ve killed them all; not
before.”

XV

EPILOGUE

Many years later.

The appointed hour is at hand. Our wait will
soon be over. I still cannot believe this - my most feared
nightmare has come to pass. I’ve dreaded this day for so long; I’ve
prayed it would never come. But it’s here - it’s now. There were so
many things I wanted to do before this fateful day. If only I had
more time.

But there is no more time for memories, no
more visiting with the shades of my past-- now is the time for
action, for courage, and for sacrifice. This time - I lead. I am
the rock that must steady the troops. I wield the sword that will
carry the day - or condemn us to everlasting defeat. This is my
burden. I carry it alone.