The Staff of Sakatha (28 page)

“They are from the swamps, unused to open plain fighting,” said Odellius and smashed a second of the beasts in the face with his own shield and then, as the creature reeled, chopped its left leg off at the knee.

“Now, then, that one seems better equipped,” said the First Rider, planting his steel tipped riding boot into the face of a downed reptile and crushing his mouth, as he pointed to the leader. “Shall we test his steel?”

Odellius nodded his head, “I’m afraid technically I’m still on civilian duties, First Rider, and he does seem quite fearsome,” he continued as the two advanced on the leader whose guard suddenly seemed to evaporate in the avalanche of steel. “But I’ll come along in case you get yourself in trouble and I have to save you … again.”

The two knights strode forward towards the heavily armored champion who turned to face them with a sneer on his face. He uttered something in a strange, guttural language, made a gesture with his sword even as the First Rider, who stood at least a foot and a half shorter than the massive creature darted forward and brought his sword up in a thrust that caught the big creature between the legs and drove into his body. Odellius, more on par height-wise with the creature, blocked a violent blow that caused his shield to ring and arm to go numb and fired off a level swing that neatly beheaded the creature whose shocked expression remained even while it rolled along the ground a moment later. After this, all resistance swiftly ended.

The two men stood for a moment and the First Rider looked to Odellius and shook his head sadly, “You tall fellows always go for the sweeping attacks. I’ve told you many times, my old friend, that it is easy to block such attacks, come in low, with a stabbing motion and your opponent must either dodge aside or be impaled.”

“I grant that for a half-hobgoblin, half-halfing midget like yourself such a tactic might prove effective from time to time but those of us who can see over the back end of a horse find an overhand strike has more power,” he replied and looked down at the First Rider, a large grin on his face.

“Ah, now with the racial insults,” replied the man and shook his head again with an equally broad grin across his square jaw. “At least my mother knew the identity of my father,” he finished as another of the well armored horsemen approached.

“That’s hardly fair,” said Odellius, “my mom had it narrowed down to three or four the last time I spoke with her.”

“First Rider,” said the man who wore steel armor with the symbol of four horseshoes around a clenched and bloody hand. “The enemy is defeated; the prisoners indicate that another group of them are holed up in the hills north of here.”

“Well done,” said Vipsanius with a nod. “Set a unit to take the prisoners back to Black Roost, allow them their personal possessions, but strip them of arms and armor.”

“Yes, First Rider,” said the soldier, clenching his fist, then turning to the other men, and beginning to bellow out orders.

“So Odellius,” said the squat man, “why are you out here chasing reptiles when you should be in Black Dale working on your masonry skills?”

“I apologize, First Rider,” said Odellius, scratching his mammoth belly with one meaty hand. “The mayor received your orders to mobilize after the reptiles landed.”

Vipsanius looked at Odellius through narrowed eyes for a moment and the coal black seemed to take on a hint of red. “I see,” he finally said and put his hand on his sword hilt. “And he ordered all men on civilian duty to arms?”

“Yes, First Rider,” said Odellius as he looked away toward where the knights organized the prisoners into lines in preparation for the long march to Black Roost.

“Most unfortunate,” said the First Rider with a shake of his head, although he also turned to gaze at the prisoners. “You and your men return to Black Dale and resume your twelve month,” he said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this incursion. The mayor is with you?”

“He joined us after a few days but died bravely yesterday when we first encountered the enemy,” said Odellius. “He led the first assault.”

The First Rider shook his head again, “This is most troubling my friend. There is something going on in the lands. I’ve known for several months now but I did not appreciate the gravity of the situation until this moment. Our own men influenced by this force, corrupted in some way.”

“There is another thing, First Rider,” said Odellius quietly as the two watched the organization continue apace. Most of the reptiles lined up tidily while armored horsemen maneuvered around them, their lances in an upright position.

“Go on, Odellius,” said the First Rider and turned to look up at the huge bellied mason.

“An emissary came to Black Dale shortly before the mayor sent us on this patrol,” continued Odellius quietly. “A man, a young man not much out of boyhood, named Jon Gray who claims he is the son of the Gray Lord of Tanelorn. He wanted to speak with you of an alliance.”

“I’ve had no word of such a thing,” said Vipsanius with a frown. “No messenger, nor my priest magically notified.”

“No, First Rider,” said Odellius. “Mayor Thorius thought the boy merely a drifter looking to steal or otherwise deceive you and refused to send a message.”

The First Rider nodded, “And what did you think of this young emissary?” he said and turned to face Odellius and look up at him.

“He’s no drifter,” said Odellius with a smile, remembering their tussle in the yard. “Perhaps he’s not what he claims but he is a lad to be reckoned with. I’ve heard of this Tanelorn, First Rider. They are a people not unlike our own and an alliance with them is something I would welcome. If their warriors are on par with the boy, then, at least, I would not want to be their enemies.”

“So,” said the First Rider, “you think it likely he is who he represents to be?”

“Yes, First Rider. I think it highly likely. I also think his presence here has something to do with the recent activities of the reptile creatures, of the … corruption of Mayor Thorius, and more.”

“Where is this boy now,” said the First Rider, “in Black Dale hoping that I’ll turn up?”

Odellius shook his head, “No, First Rider. He befriended the young brewer boy, the one who was sickly and untaken as a squire but who grew up well, Sorus Brewer. They headed into the hills with Sir Germanius. The old warrior hoped to end his life with some sort of glorious deed and seemed to trust the boy well enough.”

“Where were they headed?” asked the First Rider as his hand went to his square jaw.

“Into the Mountains of the Orc,” said Odellius, “I think …,” he started to continue but the First Rider immediately held up his hand.

“The Mountains of the Orc,” he repeated as his hand left his chin and his face turned towards the mountains which were visible to the northeast in the distance. “Did he say what he wanted up there?”

Odellius shook his head no, “I’m sorry, First Rider, the boy was in town for about a month hoping you would turn up but eventually grew bored and left. I think he confided in Germanius, otherwise I doubt the old fellow would have gone along.”

“Odellius,” said the First Rider, “would it bother you terribly if I ordered you to come along with me to the mountains instead of resuming your duties in Black Dale?”

Odellius smiled broadly. “To be honest, I was enjoying sculpting very much. I hoped to make a statue in your honor by the end of my term. Your form is not particularly easy to duplicate, short and wide and how I was going to cut that third leg of yours that hangs near the ground I’m not certain.”

The First Rider rolled his eyes, “Odellius, is it any wonder you’ve provoked every First Rider for the last ten years into giving you the worst civilian duties possible?”

“I’m quite congenial,” said the rotund warrior as he pulled himself up to his full height and squared his jaw. “I’m terribly insulted by this implication of yours.”

“It’s no implication, you great oaf,” said the First Rider as he broke into a hearty laugh. “I believe it was a direct accusation. Having said that, you will join me? You’ve met this boy of Tanelorn and I gather he trusts you?”

“We had a tussle in the yard,” said Odellius smiling broadly. “He fought well enough and seemed not to take it personally when I bested him twice.”

“He fights with skill you say,” said Vipsanius as the last of the reptiles marched off, accompanied by half a dozen mounted warriors. The First Rider’s lieutenant approached again presumably with news.

“He tried to wrestle me off my feet in the second go round,” said Odellius.

“Really?” said the First Rider raising his bushy eyebrows and smiling broadly.

“Truly,” said Odellius, “and he damn near sent me tumbling, but I managed to throw him off balance in the end. I would say he is a fine warrior and trustworthy as well. I’ll come with you to the mountains and wherever else you order me.”

“First Rider,” said the lieutenant who arrived. “The prisoners are en route to Black Roost and we await further orders.”

The First Rider stood for a moment as he looked towards the mountains in the distance, then to the hills more directly to his right, and finally back to his lieutenant. “I’m ending Sir Odellius’s civilian tour,” he said and pointed to the rotund knight. “Find a horse big enough to carry him and bring it here. Then take the main body to where you think the remaining reptiles might be up in the hills. Send a fast messenger to the Black Horse temple in the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc and tell them to expect me within a week.”

“Yes, sir,” said his lieutenant and immediately turned and began to bark out orders.

“You and I will continue alone to the temple and try and find this Jon Gray, the brewer boy, and Germanius,” said the First Rider.

“The mountains are quite large,” said Sir Odellius with a shake of his head. “They could be anywhere up there if they’re still alive.”

“There’s more going on than you know, Sir Odellius,” said the First Rider as he looked back towards the mountains. “The priests at the temple are versed in the arts of the Old Empire. Where they direct us we will find this boy of gray, I assure you of that.”

“If he’s alive,” repeated Odellius.

“I don’t like this at all,” said master Shill as he and Whitebone stood in the open cave bathed by the red glow from a dozen light stones embedded in the walls.

“They are clever,” the skeleton lord began to answer, but the war cry of Proteus caused him to turn and face the charging knight. Whitebone whipped out his sword but the snake creature was not as fast to arm himself, and Proteus slashed with his sword and tore deeply into the side of the creature. Whitebone raised a skeletal hand, spoke in a strange language, a green glow leapt from his hand, and it plowed into Proteus who went flying backwards.

Master Shill dropped to a knee and tried to hold in his guts as Jon Gray came charging at them only bounce off the green energy shield that now protected the duo.

“Jon Gray,” said Whitebone. The boy’s head snapped up as he looked at the skeletal figure closely.

“You know me,” Jon replied in his native tongue and Sorus, who skidded to a stop a moment before he crashed into the green barrier, looked at Jon, “What?”

Jon looked at Sorus, “He knows me,” he translated.

“Do you know him,” asked Sorus looking back and forth to the skeleton and Jon.

Jon shook his head, “No, at least not in his current condition. Perhaps I knew him when he was a living creature,” he said with a wry smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

“I know your father well,” said Whitebone and switched to the dialect of the traders that everyone could understand, “the Gray Lord. I know your brother Valarious and your sister Jane. I know your people, the Tanelornians. I know that your father possesses the Gray Horn which when sounded will signal the end of the world. I know that he has obtained the Usurper’s black sword, Banisher.”

“You have me at a disadvantage then, sir,” said Jon, his huge gray sword flicked back and forth and he looked for an opening in the green energy shield.

“Lord,” said Whitebone, “address me as Lord Whitebone. I also know why you are here, that you want to obtain the Staff of Sakatha to add to your father’s collection.”

“Why do you talk to them,” hissed Shill and winced in agony from the terrible wound at his side. “My life’s blood flows out, heal me.”

Whitebone turned to the snake, nodded his head, and then turned back to Jon, Sorus, and Proteus who had regained his feet, although his knees noticeably wobbled. “My companion wants me to heal him. I assume you do not wish for this to happen?”

“Damn right,” shouted Sorus brandishing his own blade, “if you so much as start to cast a spell I’ll … I’ll … kill you.”

Whitebone shook his thick white skull and his deep red eyes seemed to turn a shade of green for a moment, “I’m terribly frightened now,” he said. “Jon, we can work this out to your satisfaction and to mine,” he continued.

“Damn you, Whitebone,” said Shill as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crystalline rock that glowed with energy.

“Don’t let him use that,” cried Sorus, leaping forward into the green shield, and immediately flying backwards as a crackle of energy burst around him. Proteus moved around to one side and he tried to get a flank position as the snake creature began to utter a spell of some sorts. This ended when Whitebone’s sword cut off his head. The body fell to the ground with a thud, while strange greenish fluid began to pour out onto the floor.

“Does that prove the earnestness of my offer,” said Whitebone as he looked back to Jon. “We can work out a deal that is mutually beneficial. I want an alliance with your father against the Queen of the Abyss.”

“Why shouldn’t I just kill you and take the Staff of Sakatha for myself,” said Jon to the creature as his hand twitched, and he poked forward experimentally at the green barrier.

“That is certainly your prerogative,” said Whitebone with a shrug of his shoulders. “If you think you can kill me, then that is clearly your best choice. Do you think you can?”

Jon stood still for a moment, “I’m certain I can,” he said with a smile, “but my father tells me to consider all options before making a decision. What do you offer, Lord Whitebone?”