Authors: James Wolf
‘We will honour the quest,’ Ragad boomed, as he pulled Drual up onto his feet.
‘What be we waitin’ fer then?’ Forgrun hefted his pack onto Krun-Smiter.
‘Follow me,’ Logan turned back to Dolam and led on.
From Dolam, the Hand of Fire journeyed north for two days through the Grantlean countryside. They travelled along the Mountain Way, which would run on all the way through Sarcaedia and eventually on to Kendar – one of the three border cities of Sarcaedia, which stood right on the edge of Hathlore, holding back the Shadowlands. The company walked through countryside that was shadowed by the enormous Dredgen Mountains. It was wild country, and there were no villages, but the road was sometimes busy with passing traffic. During the evenings, Logan did not make them train like they had on the road to Dolam – much to Baek and Forgrun’s relief – for he said they would need their strength in the days to come. Nevertheless, Taem and his Master could not let those summer evenings pass without moving through the Sodan Forms.
Early on the third day north, when the sky was overcast and grey, Taem was curious when he saw a paved stone road joined the Mountain Way, leading off to the east. Taem found the contrast in the roads extraordinary. The Mountain Way was a simple trail of hard-packed earth, whereas the Rhungari road was paved with thousands upon thousands of cut stone slabs, in an exact repeating pattern. Taem saw a metal signpost that declared, in a flowing script of gold characters, “
Khan Zhen and ye Rhungari Empire 38 miles”.
Hirandar motioned for the company to take this stone road.
‘There’s gold in that sign,’ Drual said incredulously, as the company walked on past. ‘How is it that no one has stolen it?’
‘Ha!’ Forgrun snorted. ‘None do be stupid enough ter steal from ye Rhungari!’
‘Not everyone’s as dishonest as you,’ Jvarna scowled at Drual.
At every mile on the smooth stone road there was, without fail, another signpost with how many more miles it was to Khan Zhen. Every mile-sign Taem and his companions passed was a motivational spur, encouraging them to press on harder.
At thirty miles to Khan Zhen the stone road began to rise, as it left the flat wooded plains, and the companions were now striding through the rocky countryside of the low mountains. For as far as Taem could see up the grey road, as it wound and stretched high into the Dredgen, there was no sight of anyone else but the company of The Hand of Fire. Taem looked up at the great mountains, saw how they were so tall their peaks pierced through the grey clouds that filled the moody sky. There were still clumps of woodland and plateaus of grassy pastures in these low mountains, but Taem gazed ahead to where the road climbed and meandered through grey rock. Staring back west, Taem could still make out the sliver of the Mountain Way down below, trailing over the Grantlean plains, and leagues and leagues of countryside beyond, until the murky fog of a dreary day shrouded anything further.
‘Beaut’ful country!’ Forgrun patted Taem on the shoulder, as he paced on up the road.
‘Yes it is,’ Taem murmured to himself, as he followed after his companions.
The Hard of Fire trekked on past a squat stone lodge, set back from the road. Taem thought this lodge, with its dainty windows and small chimneybreast, was more akin to a sculpted cave than a house. It was so in keeping with its surroundings that, from a distance at least, it was hard to distinguish it from any other rocky outcrop.
‘Is this someone’s house?’ Baek asked his Rhungar friend.
‘Nay!’ Forgrun said. ‘It be a Ranger station, a Mckayley hut. There be many Mckayleys in ye western mountains, specially along ye roadsides.’
‘For in the mountains,’ Hirandar turned back to the others as Logan scouted ahead, ‘the weather can turn in an instant, from a mild day to a severe thunderstorm.’
‘Aye!’ Forgrun paced on after Logan. ‘Only in Dredgen can yhee ’ave four seasons durin’ one day!’
‘Yes,’ Hirandar gestured up towards the gathering clouds, ‘the thunder and lightning can be so fierce here, it’s safer to be under cover when the tempest strikes. The Grey Rangers take it as a matter of pride that there is always tinder, coal, drinking water, some dried foods and clean blankets to be found by those in need.’
‘They do be basic shelters,’ Forgrun said as they hiked past the Mckayley, ‘maintained an’ used by ye Grey Rangers. Any traveller be welcome ter find refuge within.’
‘The Grey Rangers allow not just Rhungars,’ Hirandar said, ‘but also men to use their shelters.’
‘Aye!’ Forgrun said proudly.
Taem could feel there was something brewing in the grey sky. Logan sensed it to, and urged the company to push on.
‘Drual!’ Jvarna called back to the rogue, who was lagging behind the horses.
‘I’m just covering the back trail!’ Drual snarled, but everyone could see he was tired and out of breath.
‘Well hurry up!’ Jvarna waited for the Darnean, with a cruel smirk on her face, as the others pushed on up the trail. ‘How is it an old woman has got more stamina than you?’
‘Look,’ Drual scowled, ‘your
majesty
, Drual Dhagren takes commands from no one–’
‘Except Logan Fornor, of course,’ Jvarna said flatly.
‘Well,’ Drual glared, ‘certainly no
Shacainian
!’
‘Okay then,’ Jvarna glowered at the rogue, ‘I guess the weakest of us should travel back here, behind the horses…’ The Shacainian jogged back up the road to report to Logan, leaving Drual glaring daggers into her back.
An hour later, the companions all glanced up as a loud crack of thunder rumbled through the mountains. Within moments, it began to pour harder than Taem had ever seen or felt. And there was nowhere to shelter. Whichever way Taem looked, lashing grey rain blocked his vision. The companions pulled up their hoods and struggled on through the rainstorm. Despite his Aborle cloak, Taem could feel his drenched clothes were sticking to his skin and growing ever heavier as they soaked up more water. When the next Mckayley hut came into view no one needed to be told to run for it, and all the companions sprinted for the stone shelter.
The company huddled into the one room hut, dragging Storm and Krun-Smiter inside through the low door.
‘Well this is cosy,’ Jvarna huffed as she was forced over the other side of the low room, away from the jumpy horses.
‘Perhaps,’ Drual sneered at the warrior woman, ‘you’d prefer it back outside?’
‘Well,
perhaps
,’ Jvarna said, ‘you should try and calm Storm and Krun-Smiter down, but they don’t suffer fools–’
‘Gladly!’ Drual snapped. ‘Even those horses are better conversation than you!’
‘I would say likewise!’ Jvarna said angrily. ‘Storm has better manners than
you
, and more of a backbone!’
‘You two
would
get on famously,’ Drual scoffed, ‘same intellect–’
Storm whinnied loudly, and Taem wondered if the mare’s ears had been burning.
‘Silence!’ Logan glared at Drual and Jvarna, as he rubbed Krun-Smiter down. ‘If you two do not stop your bickering, you will
both
be going for a walk outside to cool down.’
Jvarna and Drual continued to glower at each other.
Ragad had to drop his head and hunch his shoulders, the ceiling was so low. The Croma began to rub down Storm, and Taem heard the great Northman murmuring a song to the horse. It was so quiet that Taem had to strain his ears to hear it. He did not know if the song had words or was just a tune, but Ragad’s humming was so peaceful that both horses calmed down. Taem found it a pleasant sound after listening to Jvarna and Drual squabbling.
Baek discovered some candles in a wooden chest, and passed them to Hirandar. The Wizard lit up the dark room by sparking the candles with a thread of fire magic. Forgrun dragged some heavy woven mats out of a cupboard, so the companions did not have to sit on the stone floor. In the fireplace there were carefully stacked coal briquettes over a nest of dry tinder. Taem thought that fire would always be left ready to be lit, in case someone struggled into the Mckayley without the strength to build a fire. A tendril of flame spurted from Hirandar’s outstretched finger, and within moments a roaring fire was alive in the fireplace. Taem observed the flicker of disbelief in Ragad’s eyes at the magic, but it only lingered for an instant. Taem marvelled at the Croma; Ragad’s ability to conceal his emotions rivalled even the Sodan Master’s.
The companions all hung up their sodden cloaks to dry, and bunched together around the fireplace, warming their hands as they sat on the woven mats. Baek began to sneeze uncontrollably. The only other sound was the crackle of the fire, and the rain rattling on the glass windowpanes.
Taem thought he caught something moving past the outside of one of the hut’s windows. Logan spun round too. There was a silhouette against a dark sky. A loud knock at the door followed. Taem readied himself to leap into action. The door opened. Lightning tore the outside sky. And a Rhungar casually made his way inside.
Everyone turned in surprise to watch the new arrival. Logan loosened his blade in its scabbard. The Master did not release his grip on Mantioc’s hilt, as the Rhungar hung up his grey cloak and said, ‘That be an unusually cold one fer this time o’ year.’
As if the presence of eight outlanders were a normal thing, the grey-cloaked Rhungar put down his crossbow and axe, and sat down next to Ragad, to warm his hands at the fireplace. Taem saw this Rhungar had dark eyes, and jet black hair and beard. He did not wear the audacious clothes Taem had come to associate with Rhungars, but greys and shades of brown – to blend into the mountain terrain.
‘I be Strumval,’ the newcomer said, ‘o’ ye Rangers, an’ clan Galvin Tor.’
Logan released his grip on his sword.
‘Thank you,’ Hirandar said to Strumval. ‘For the Grey Rangers provided us shelter and warmth today.’
‘All be welcome here,’ Strumval said cheerily.
How refreshing it was to meet a genial Rhungar, Taem thought. Apart from Forgrun, this was the only friendly Rhungar that Taem had ever met.
Hirandar introduced herself, which received the honourary bow and knuckling of the forehead. After which, Hirandar went on to present everyone else to the Grey Ranger.
‘O’ clan Ironstone,’ Strumval remarked of Forgrun. ‘I be a friend ter many Ironstone in ye Mountain Rangers, thy clan-Rhungars make good fighters.’
‘I be Forgrun Krojan, son o’ Dugan. I too be havin’ friends o’ Galvin Tor, at my native Citadel o’ Dundean, far ter south.’
‘Yhee father be Lord o’ Stronghold?’ Strumval asked.
Forgrun nodded.
‘Yhee do be welcome ter ye lands o’ Khan Zhen,’ Strumval said to them all. ‘It be uncommon fer travellers ter enter these lands, but ye Rangers will see safe passage fer all good folk.’
‘You are alone?’ Logan asked, and Taem could tell this was unusual.
‘Me partner do left two day ago,’ Strumval said, ‘ter escort another party up ter citadel. In truth, he be jumpin’ at any excuse ter head back as his wife be with child, an’ be due any day. I be waitin’ down ’ere fer relief force, so I too can return ter citadel.’ Strumval glanced over the diverse members of the Hand of Fire. ‘It be a strange an’ unusual thing, ter meet such a mixed group be bound for me people’s empire. Strange enough ter meet one party, but yhee be ye second in as many days.’
Taem could see everyone’s ears perked up at this, and each of his companions leaned forward. Logan was the only one that did not move, but Taem knew the Master would be listening more carefully than anyone.
‘They be a larger group than yheeselves,’ Strumval went on. ‘Though nay nearly as friendly as yhee people. Nay! I do be feelin’ nay comfor’ble with them – nay at all. Strange that, non-Rhungars be rarely treadin’ ye winding mountain road, an’ then two groups do come along at once? In fact, that nay be ye only odd thing,’ Strumval rubbed his bearded chin. ‘I be due ter be relieved last night, or this morning at latest, but no Ranger do come? I do be never known fer Rangers ter be late...’
‘What do you remember of this other group,’ Hirandar asked intently.
‘Let me do think,’ Strumval mused. ‘There be a lord, an’ at least ten soldiers o’ his household – they be havin’ many ’orses. That man do nay be in charge though, ye leader be a nasty man with purple skullcap, black pointy beard, he be havin’ cold piercing eyes.’ The tough Rhungar shivered. ‘He may be wizard, but there be nothin’ good abou’ him.’
‘The lord was wearing house colours?’ Hirandar asked, although she had already formed suspicions.
‘Nay official house colours, I nay think,’ Strumval said. ‘But he be a big strong man with silver hair, but nay greyed through age, fer he be only in his middle years.’
Taem saw Logan shift uncomfortably.
‘The soldiers of the household?’ Hirandar said.
‘Oh aye,’ Strumval said. ‘Now I do remember. Aye. They all be havin’ badges on their jerkins. Their jackets be quartered yellow an’ sky blue, their house badges do be havin’ black doors on ’em.’
‘Defenders of The Gate?’ Jvarna said.
They had to be, Taem knew.
‘Led by their king,’ Hirandar said softly.