Authors: James Wolf
‘The description fits,’ Logan said reluctantly. ‘But why would Balthus go to the Rhungars?’
‘I fear it may be for the same reason as us,’ Hirandar said darkly.
This statement brought some uneasy looks amongst the companions. Taem looked to Baek, and his Aborle friend shook his head in disbelief.
‘They must have left Dolam the same time as we did,’ Hirandar sighed. ‘By horseback, they could have reached here before us – if they came direct. And they only would have done that if they had known The Gate would be besieged. Even the King of Grantle could not have known Kruns would be blocking The Gate... without some inside information,’ Hirandar muttered.
Baek gasped at what the Wizard was implying.
‘That is, of course,’ Hirandar spread her palms wide, ‘if this group is whom it suggests.’ Hirandar paused to weigh her words before she went on. ‘Isornel was once a Wizard of Jinamon, but he disappeared over ten years ago, whilst Logan and I were still travelling the length of Hathlore. Back then, Isornel was expelled from the Order for his increasingly…
dangerous
attitude.’
‘And we now know where Isornel has been in the years since,’ Logan said, ‘learning Dark magic from Calagar, Lord of Storms.’
Taem trembled at that damning proclamation, and he could see the worry in all the listening companions’ eyes – except Ragad’s. The Croma just looked intense. Taem could see the thought of a Greatseer of the Maliven did not bother the strong man.
‘Isornel came to the Fortress of Magic just before The Incursions,’ Hirandar said, ‘twenty years ago. Long was my search during those troubled times,’ Hirandar glanced at Logan, ‘and rarely was I at the Fortress as I travelled Hathlore. Whilst I was away, Isornel rose to become the highest Keyholder, and was set to join the Celestial Circle. But the Order had learnt much from the treachery of Calagar. The Circle kept a close watch on Isornel, and it was discovered he was indeed pursuing darker interests… Rather than face trial Isornel fled, and he has been on the run ever since. Whether Balthus is his conspirator, or unwilling pawn, is yet to be seen.’
‘I will not pass judgement until more is known,’ Logan said solemnly. ‘But sometimes the facts speak for themselves. However much you do not want something to be true, your will alone cannot make it so.’ Logan shook his head. ‘I will cease deceiving myself, and wishing things were different. If Balthus and his party are Dark Servants, we will deal with them like any other Shadowsworn.’
Taem heard how his Master’s voice was merciless. He knew, and so did all the rest of the company, that any Dark Servants unfortunate enough to meet Logan would not live long.
The rains of the storm cleared as swiftly as they had arrived. Soon the companions had left Strumval, and were trekking high towards the peaks. By the way Forgrun paced forth at the head of the company – for once quietly keeping to himself – Taem could tell his Rhungari friend was eager to get to Khan Zhen. When the Hand of Fire stopped for camp that night, Forgrun spoke of the hospitality they would receive at the Rhungari fortress, of the great feasts, the merriment to be found at the alehouses, and the colourful traditions of the Clans.
‘I too am excited to see the Rhungari city,’ Baek touched Forgrun’s shoulder, and the Rhungar became even more animated, as he raved about the sights he had promised to show the Aborle, many weeks ago, as they had walked towards Gulren.
As the company sat by the campfire, joking and laughing, Hirandar’s thoughts were more troubled than they had been in a long time. Although the Wizard would not burden the happy mood of the others, she knew the quest was becoming more dangerous with every step. Enemies were all around, and appearing unexpectedly. Hirandar hoped things would seem brighter once they reached the Rhungari city.
But the Wizard found heart, as she watched her friends around the campfire – their aliveness and their courage. Drual was cracking another joke to which everyone was laughing, including Logan, and even Jvarna – Hirandar allowed herself a wry smile at that. And Hirandar was pleased to see Logan laughing along too. The Sodan Master had been in a dark mood since Dolam, but with good reason. Hirandar knew Logan always had faith in people, believed people could be something more than they were. Hirandar hoped Balthus did not turn out to disappoint his old friend.
The following day, the company had made steady progress up into the high mountains when, as the dusk closed in, the next signpost told them the citadel was only two miles away. The warriors followed the path on with enthusiasm, past giant rocks and over rises in the undulating land.
‘We be arrivin’ in time ter catch dinner feast,’ Forgrun said eagerly, as the Hand of Fire strode on.
As the Rhungar told his companions of the great meal that awaited them, Logan cut in, ‘Quiet! Everyone!’
The company’s mood became serious and alert. In the distance, Taem could hear the faint noise of a mass gathering. Logan motioned for the company to make a defensive formation. Ragad and Baek took up the rearguard, Forgrun the left flank, Jvarna the right and Taem and Drual moved forward to match pace with Logan at the front. Hirandar remained in the centre. As the road went on, and the dusk darkened to night, Taem heard the drums become louder and the feral shouting recognisable. Taem shook his head in anger. How could the company suffer yet more misfortune? Taem knew those wild screams did not come from the throat of Man or Rhungar. They were the howls of his enemy.
Taem could just make out the hunched shapes of Logan and Baek on the rocky ridge above, their outlines silhouetted against the night sky. He heard the clamour of a mass of unruly creatures, as it swayed in on the soft night wind. From time to time a tremendous boom reverberated through the dark mountains, and Taem wondered what in Hathlore could be making such a noise.
The other companions waited at the foot of the ridge for their friends to return. Jvarna stared up at the two shadowy figures lying on the hill rise. Ragad appeared unbothered, but Taem suspected the Croma was heedful of everything. Forgrun examined the edge of his war axe, running a finger along its polished edge, lost in his thoughts. Hirandar sat cross-legged with her eyes shut, deep in concentration. The Wizard’s palms were together, almost in prayer, with the middle and ring fingers folded over. Her hands shook, as they moved slowly up and down. Drual’s anxious gaze darted around into the surrounding darkness. Taem stood watching the ground to the rear of the ridge, just in case any enemy came that way.
Logan returned to the main party, leaving Baek at watch on the top of the rise. Logan gestured for the others to come in close, and the companions gathered round.
‘The stronghold lays under siege.’ Logan whispered. ‘A force of thousands of Kruns and Ugurs is encamped on the plateau outside the gates. With catapults positioned on the south-eastern ridge, the Krun launch boulders at the walls of the citadel. Whilst the Rhungars return fire with their black powder war machines, cutting swathes through the midst of the horde. Even as we now speak, the Ugurs are hammering a great battering ram against the fortress gates. But the conflict is in a stalemate. Those Rhungari gates will hold for weeks, and the Krun are too numerous for the Rhungari warriors to charge out and battle them on the plateau. It is impossible for us to enter through the front door. Are there any secret entrances?’ Logan looked to Forgrun.
‘Aye there must be,’ Forgrun murmured, ‘but nay that I do know. I never do be here before, an’ know nothing o’ Khan Zhen’s mysteries. Years ago, when ye Rhungars be greater in number, there would be many entrances ter ye stronghold.’ Forgrun sighed. ‘But there be no longer enough soldiers ter maintain all ye passages an’ gates of old, so corridors havin’ been sealed and filled in fer defence.’
‘Can we go around and continue the quest?’ Jvarna asked.
By the way Forgrun glared, Taem could see the Rhungar did not like that suggestion, but Logan shook his head anyway.
‘The path ahead will be infested with Ugurs,’ Logan whispered. ‘Progress would be slow and dangerous, all but impossible to slip through.’
‘Didn’t think you’d be one to shy away from danger,’ Jvarna said mockingly.
Logan gave her a flat stare.
‘So what are you saying?’ Jvarna shrugged. ‘We wait for weeks – maybe months – for the siege to resolve itself, and maybe not in Rhungar favour?’
Forgrun snorted at that.
‘Dark forces conspire to delay our quest,’ Hirandar woke from her trance, and wearily rose to her feet, ‘when every hour plunges us into greater danger. We need both Rhungari support and counsel to aid the quest. We
need
to get inside the stronghold.’
‘The darkness is not always the enemy,’ Logan said softly, ‘it can be a strong ally on the battlefield.’
‘The Kruns can be deceived in the confusion of battle,’ Hirandar nodded to Logan.
‘Hold on a minute,’ Drual spoke for the first time. ‘You want the eight of us to mount an
offensive
against an Ugur army, thousands strong? Are you out of your minds? I knew this quest would be pure folly when I joined up with you people! I don’t even know why I’m here! Dangerous stupidity; not worth risking, even for the amount of gold you were talking about–’
‘Be silent!’ Logan said harshly.
‘Do you not
care
about anything but yourself?’ Jvarna glared at Drual. ‘Some of us are trying to do the right thing,’ she scowled, ‘but if gold is all you care about, the only thing you value in your life, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be well compensated later.’
Drual wilted in shame, and his arrogant façade dropped. Taem was surprised at Jvarna’s passionate outburst, and he could see he was not the only one. The warrior woman stalked off up the rise, to join Baek on the ridge.
Hirandar placed a reassuring hand on Drual’s shoulder, ‘You have a good heart, Drual; better than you would like to admit to yourself.’ Hirandar smiled at the downcast rogue. ‘Now all you need is a little faith.’
Hirandar said to them all, ‘The darkness can play tricks on the mind. Using my magic, and the night itself, we can deceive the Kruns into thinking our numbers are a hundred times greater.’ The Wizard grinned. ‘Taem, Forgrun and Ragad go back down the trail to the trees we passed two hundred yards back. Cut as many poles as you can carry, only so long,’ Hirandar held her hands one shoulder width apart, ‘and hurry back to this spot.’
Taem, Ragad and Forgrun jogged off into the darkness, and found the mountain trees. Taem gestured for Forgrun to attack the trees, and the Rhungar scowled.
‘My axe do be a weapon,’ Forgrun said sourly, as he set to chopping up the trees with his war axe. ‘It nay be a woodsman’s tool!’
‘Keep your voice down!’ Taem glanced around into the darkness.
As quietly as they could, Taem and Ragad snapped the branches into bundles of smaller sticks. In no time, the three warriors returned back to the main company carrying no less than fifty branches. They had managed to pile at least thirty branches onto Ragad alone, in the cradle of his massive arms. Taem and Forgrun piled the sticks on the ground, and Hirandar pulled a yellow velvet pouch from a pocket in her cloak. The Wizard reached inside the pouch and took out some thick yellow paste, which she smeared over the point of a stick.
‘These need to be put at intervals along the ridge of the plateau,’ Hirandar handed the stick to Taem. ‘Either pushed into soft ground or held upright by stones, so the pasted end is at the top.’
Forgrun passed the next stick to Hirandar, and the Wizard smeared yellow paste on one end, as the rest of the company gathered round to help.
Taem climbed to the top of the ridge with some of these sticks, and got his first view of a Rhungari citadel. What Logan had called the plateau was a flat expanse bordered by low mountains.
‘Taem!’ Jvarna whispered, from where she lay beside Baek. ‘Over here.’
Taem kept to a low crouch as he ran to where Jvarna lay.
‘That horde is
immense
,’ Taem gaped at the Krun horde, sprawled out in a great muddle across the eastern plateau. They were a chaotic mass of swarming bodies, and he guessed there were four thousand Krun and Ugur. Their jeers and howls filled the night with menace. Taem looked to his left, and saw how the plateau’s largest peak housed the Rhungari fortress. It was hard to tell where the mountain ended and the citadel began. What had first seemed to be rocky outcrops, were battlements and towers carved from the mountainside, with many torches lining the ramparts. In the centre of the mountain wall was a great door. It was not made of wood, but rock that was darker than the stone of the surrounding mountains.
One by one, the other companions scurried up the rise to join Jvarna, Baek and Taem.
‘Spread out the poles along the top of the ridge,’ Logan murmured. ‘Keep low to the ground!’
In a few minutes the warriors had spread the yellow-tipped poles for three hundred yards along the top of the ridge, and gathered back in the middle of the pole line.
Taem could see Drual and Jvarna shooting dubious glances at each other, unsure of the Wizard’s plan, whilst Forgrun eyed the noisy Krun Horde with an angry stare. Baek was frightened and withdrawn, wondering how they could possibly get to the citadel. Taem trusted Hirandar, but he could not see how this plan would work. He looked at the sheer size of the enemy army, and looked to his companions, saw their brows were heavy with fear and doubt. Even Ragad seemed full of misgiving. But then Taem saw Logan standing on the ridge, dauntless as ever, and that gave him strength.
‘Now, Drual,’ Hirandar said, over the howls of the far-off horde, ‘witness the power of ancient magic.’
Hirandar began to chant. As she spoke wisps of fog began to rise off the ground at her feet, and spread out to the boots of Logan and Ragad, by the Wizard’s sides. The Northman gawped in wonder – the first time Taem had seen unguarded emotion in the Croma. Even Drual, with all his worldly experience, had astonishment in his eyes.
Storm neighed in wild-eyed fear, but Taem steadied the mount. Baek caressed Krun-Smiter’s nose, and whispered reassurance to the whinnying horse.
The mysterious mist grew into a huge dense fog that covered the companions, and it surged out down the ridge, towards the clamouring Krun army. Taem felt goose bumps all over his body. It was not the cold of the mist, but the unearthly feel of magic that caused him to shiver. Taem saw the petrified look in Forgrun’s eyes. Jvarna was clutching her spear and shaking, Drual was sweeping his crossbow from side to side, and there was even a grimace of fear on Ragad’s stony face.
Half the plateau was now enveloped in the grey haze, and most of the Kruns had ceased their jeering to gape at the ethereal fog. It was so thick that Taem could no longer see his companions’ faces, only their vague outlines. Hirandar gripped her staff in two hands, moving to hold it vertical, as she continued to cast her spell. Without warning, a brilliant white flare erupted from the top of Hirandar’s staff. All the companions except Logan leapt back. The blazing staff lit up the ground and fog around the company. It was so bright that Taem had to shield his eyes. Hirandar pointed the flare-tipped staff far away to the left. Most of the companions gasped, as the left-most pole burst alive with the same bright light. The next one in line rent the night with pure light, and the one adjacent to that, like a spark running along a trail of black powder, until all the poles from left to right were alight. Taem’s jaw hung low as he gawked at the blinding wall of supernatural light, shrouded in fog and shadows, that stretched from one end of the ridge line to the other.
If Taem could have seen the faces of the Kruns, he would have seen panic spreading through their ranks.
Holding her staff in her right hand, Hirandar raised her left palm upwards. As she did, strange booming whispers began to emanate out of the fog. The companions cast uneasy glances into the mist. The spectral echoes started as whispers but, as Hirandar’s hand rose, they became piercing screams. Something moved in the mist, and Taem reared back in fright. He glanced over his shoulder. There it was again! He swept Estellarum from its sheath. A shadow was sweeping, circling and swooping. Taem sensed the creature. Felt its chill. The shadow moved too fast and too lightly. A spirit from another world! A shiver tingled down Taem’s spine.
‘What was that?’ Baek cried.
‘Decu watch o’er us,’ Forgrun mumbled from somewhere in the fog.
More shadows were gliding through the mist, forming the silhouettes of the warriors – phantom doppelgangers of the real companions. The companions leapt back and huddled together, as the ghostly forms drifted through the haze.
Grasping her staff like an infantryman, Hirandar marched forward into the fog. Logan drew his blade and followed, with the others just behind, loosening their weapons and catching up to Hirandar and Logan. None of the companions wanted to be left alone in the mist.
The Wizard thrust her staff into the air, in the direction of the Krun army, and the companions watched in amazement as a sphere of red light whooshed out of Hirandar’s staff, followed a few seconds later by a green and then a blue globe. Unbeknown to the warriors, the spheres of coloured light twirled high into the air above the Kruns’ heads. The Kruns and Ugurs stared up at the balls of light, mesmerised. But they all recoiled in fear as the flying globes exploded, in starbursts of light, with a deafening bang so loud it shook the ground.
‘What was that?’ Baek asked, as the earth moved.
‘The Light knows!’ Jvarna shivered.
‘Light help us!’ Drual yelled.
‘Relax,’ Logan said calmly, ‘and keep close to Hirandar.’
Shaken by the boom, the Kruns cowered away from the mist, from which an army of shadow warriors menaced toward them.
‘
Da Spirits ov Rhungar ancestors
!’ Some Kruns screamed.
‘
Ghosts
!’ Cried others.
It was at this opportune moment that the great gates of the citadel opened. Hundreds of armoured Rhungars charged to meet the Kruns, bellowing their battle cries. The Krun army turned tail and fled the plateau, abandoning their camps and war machines.
All this was unknown to the companions, who could see and hear nothing beyond the spectral whispers and shrieks of the fog around them.
‘The Krun have broken,’ Hirandar whispered, she alone could see ahead.
The rest of the company just followed the Wizard’s blazing staff, as they shot frightened glances into the mist.
The white flame on the end of Hirandar’s staff winked out of existence. The moment it died, so also did the white lights back up on the ridge, and the ghostly noises of the mist.