Book Read Free

Heirs of Vanity- The Complete First Trilogy Box Set

Page 34

by R J Hanson


  Each man here was a seasoned fighter, however, waiting for blood to be drawn is never easy. The minutes seemed to move as slow and thick as tree sap in winter. Finally, the sounds of chains, armor, and the heavy footsteps of the ogres in the brush could be heard.

  Roland and Eldryn stood in the tunnel entrance behind thick stones. They both remembered how the heat of the torch blinded the drow in the caves of Nolcavanor and how those creatures so depended on their night vision. The stones masked their body heat. Otherwise the drow, dark elves you kin, would see them easily despite the gloom.

  Eldryn, remembering Velryk’s lessons about surveillance, took out the small mirror that he used for shaving and held it out. He watched the troop of drow, ogres, and chained children march along the river. He suddenly found his target, walking, no, floating among seven drow soldiers. Eldryn waited while their enemies marched to within bow range.

  Eldryn nodded to Roland and they both stepped into the open, sighted their target, and loosed their arrows. In black luck Yorketh saw the arrows just before they struck home. A quick twitch of his hand and the arrows flew bare inches wide of their target. Two dark elves standing behind Yorketh did not share in his fortune. Roland and Eldryn’s arrows struck them with deadly force. Five more arrows glided through the air and took five more drow. Twelve elves, four ogres, and one mage were left to deal with.

  Eldryn saw that the slaves were all tied to a common chain and being led or drug by one of the ogres. Eldryn selected a special arrow and put it to string. Roland drew Swift Blood from its scabbard.

  Eldryn released the arrow and it cut through the night striking one of the large beasts in the chest. The ogre seemed uninjured at first. He took another confident step forward before blood burst from his mouth. He took another faltering step forward and was dead before his corpse struck the ground.

  Roland roared and charged out from the tunnel opening. Four more drow were killed in the next volley of arrows, one was seriously injured. The remaining seven drow charged for the tunnel entrance, determined to take it by force and be within the cover of the mountain before sunrise. The three ogres spread among the mountain side seeking out the hidden archers.

  Roland met two of the dark elves on his course toward Yorketh. Roland stepped to his left and swung with all his might at the drow on the left. If he had not had three feet of reach on the dark elves the move would have meant his death. Swift Blood struck the blocking blade of the first drow with such force that it knocked the dark elf aside, and sent him reeling into his companion who had been running along beside him. The two were untouched by Roland’s edge, however, the force of the attack knocked both of them clear of the small path and into the river which swept them off to the east toward the rising sun.

  The other five dark elves ran a wide arc around Roland hoping that they would reach the tunnel mouth while it was unmanned. Roland continued his charge directly at Yorketh.

  Yorketh had no idea that it was Roland that charged him, although the size of him should have served as a blatant reminder. Yorketh, unlike most of his colleagues, had served in battles with warriors and mercenaries before. However, that experience did little to steady the nerves of the frail wizard. His faculties were dulled by the tunnel vision effect. An effect almost all fighting men were aware of, and some knew how to contend with. He could not hear anything going on around him. He could only see the blade the large man charged him with. That blade looked to be the size of a barn door.

  If he had recognized Roland, that knowledge might have saved his life. Yorketh hurriedly whispered a phrase into the night air. The words traveled into Roland’s ears but were lost as nonsense in his mind as the green gem on his helmet took on a slight glow. Yorketh knew his attacker when the word of command failed to affect its target. Yorketh recognized Roland too late.

  Roland swung his Great sword in a vicious overhead arc aimed for Yorketh’s shoulder. If Yorketh had more room between him and Roland, if he had only a few seconds more for another spell, he would have been victorious, however, he did not. Swift Blood sunk into Yorketh’s frail shoulder and cleaved down to his navel. Roland ripped his blade free from Yorketh’s corpse and looked around him. Roland saw another ogre fall with five arrows sticking out of his throat and face. Two more ogres, clubs at the ready, charged the five soldiers now that they had them spotted. Five drow charged the tunnel when suddenly one of them caught an arrow in his hip. Now only four drow charged a lone Eldryn.

  Roland saw an injured drow near him. The dark elf was crawling toward his fallen sword. Roland had been a man who considered honor a part of combat. However, when he thought of the burnt doll that he carried in his pack and the children in chains nearby, he realized there was more a man could lose in war than just honor. The dark elf’s head rolled free from his body as Roland continued toward the drow that were reaching the tunnel.

  As Roland ran up the path to Eldryn’s aid, he came upon the drow with an arrow in his hip. Swift Blood’s point pierced the dark elf’s sternum, cracking it in two. Blood rushed from the wound along with air from the drow’s exposed lung.

  Eldryn had dropped his bow and took his shield from the ground next to him. He drew his shrou-sheld free from its scabbard as the first two drow reached the tunnel. The dark elf to his left thrusted his broadsword tip at Eldryn’s side. The dark elf on Eldryn’s right sliced an arc that cut low toward Eldryn’s leg. Eldryn lowered his shield to block the thrust aimed at his hip. Eldryn caught the broadsword cutting toward his leg inside the blade. He then thrust his shrou-sheld forward along the inside of the drow blade forcing the drow’s broadsword wide and plunging his shrou-sheld into the dark elf’s abdomen, just below the breastplate. The drow fell back with blood pouring out of his lower belly. Another cursed elf stepped forward, his mace held at the ready.

  The two ogres reached Tyll and Cambri. The soldiers had their shields and swords ready. However, the shields did little against the mass of the clubs and the strength that hurled them. Both soldiers were crushed under the weight of the ogres’ first blows and knocked to the ground. Tyll suffered a crushed leg, Cambri a crushed skull. Tindrakin, Facl, and Pala ran to their companions’ aid.

  As Roland reached the drow gathered at the tunnel, the one closest to him turned to face him. The drow put both hands on his bastard sword and made a sweeping cut toward Roland’s left side. Roland had time to parry the attack, but that was not Roland’s way. Roland responded with a side cut toward the right that carried his strength behind it. The drow’s bastard sword struck home, knocking the wind from Roland’s lungs, but not piercing his armor. Swift Blood struck the drow with an awesome force that crushed the dark elf’s breastplate, and his ribs. One of the ribs must have punctured a lung because the drow began frothing blood from his lips.

  Eldryn managed to block another thrust with his shield from the dark elf on his left. He feigned a low thrust toward the drow on his right. The drow dropped his sword low to parry the feign. Eldryn swept his blade up quickly and its edge found the gap in the dark elf’s armored thigh. The blade bit deep and scored a rushing flow of blood. The drow staggered back and fell against his comrade behind him with the broken ribs and pierced lung.

  Tyll, his leg broken, still managed to slashed out with his broadsword as he fell. The edge sliced through the ogre’s tough hid and stout calf muscle. The ogre yelled out and brought his club up high again. Tindrakin approached the ogre from behind and shoved the point of his polearm deep into the ogre’s kidney. As he did so, an unusual spear flew from the woods and struck the ogre in the chest. Kodii’s thrown spear had just missed the creature’s heart. The ogre yelled out again and spun on Tin. Tin withdrew the point of his polearm and stabbed it deep into the ogre’s abdomen when it faced him. The ogre accepted the second attack stoically as it brought its heavy club to bear. Tindrakin was slapped high into the air and landed among the rocks twenty feet away, unconscious.

  The other soldiers that approached with Tin barely leapt out of the path
of the other, uninjured, ogre’s attack. The wind from the club swing and the sight of his dead companion on the ground near him both added to the fear rising in Pala’s stomach. He stood his ground and attempted a cut at the ogre, which missed. Facl circled the beast attempting to draw it away from Tyll. He lunged in but only nicked the ogre’s knee. Another spear flew in at the group from a nearby tree. Kodii’s second spear struck home in the back of this ogre.

  Roland swung his Shrou-Hayn at the drow again, knocking both him and the dark elf with the leg injury from the ledge of the path. Both fell short of the river and hit the rocks thirty feet below.

  Eldryn was now able to focus on the drow to his left. The dark elf attempted another thrust. This time Eldryn allowed the point of the enemy blade past his shield. The shield glided along the top of the sword. Eldryn forced the blade down with the edge of his shield as his own shrou-sheld made its stride toward the drow’s unprotected throat. The point of Eldryn’s blade slide just below the chin and sunk deep, extending beyond the back of the drow’s neck. Eldryn ripped the blade from the drow’s throat, spilling his blood in great pools across the entrance to the cave.

  Roland and Eldryn looked across to where three soldiers, one severely crippled, faced the remaining ogre. The distance was great.

  Roland roared again and charged across the rocks. Eldryn thrust his shrou-sheld toward the ogre and focused his mind on striking the beast. A bolt of blue and white lightning cut across the lifting gloom and struck the ogre’s back. The creature’s back burst open under the force of the lightning bolt and it fell to the ground, dead.

  Roland continued his run until he reached the injured soldier, Tyll. It was immediately apparent that nothing could be done for Cambri, whose head had been crushed by the ogre’s club. Roland and Pala saw to Tyll, while Eldryn and Facl checked on Tindrakin’s welfare. Just then Kodii walked out of the brush to collect his spears and gather with the others of his ‘tribe.’ Roland noticed the blood on Kodii’s heavy spear.

  “More?” was all Roland asked.

  “Scouts,” Kodii said. Then he raised four fingers and brought the fingers down one at a time.

  It was clear to all that Tyll was unable to walk. Tin was dizzy and bruised, but otherwise uninjured. All of the fighting men looked to the twenty-three children standing in chains at the bottom of the path.

  “What now?” Eldryn asked Roland.

  “Now we get those chains off of them and feed everyone,” Roland said. “I could go for a hot meal myself. You and Pala gather the horses, El. Facl and I will unchain the children and then see to Tyll’s injured leg. Tin, you just sit down and get your head together.”

  The children were too exhausted to show much outward fear, but Roland saw it in their eyes. Roland saw their blistered and bloody feet and their open sores from the manacles and leg irons. Roland saw the whip marks on the backs of children that had not yet seen their tenth year. Their pain would stay in his heart for the rest of his days. Roland would see many more atrocities before his end, but this would stay with him forever.

  Roland remembered his younger days when he was forced to his exercises, his practices, and his reading. He complained that no other child was pushed so to be a good warrior. He complained because his childhood was so hard. Roland realized now that he knew nothing of a hard childhood. He also realized that he was grateful for every moment of exhausting exercise, brutal practice, and tedious reading. All those things made him the warrior that was able to free these children.

  “We will care for you,” Roland said. “You are safe now.”

  A rough splint was made for Tyll’s leg. Roland gave him a bottle of strong brandy for the pain. Eldryn and Pala returned with the horses and supplies. Tin, El, and Pala went to work building a fire, their first in over a month. Every person there looked forward to a warm meal.

  Roland and Facl gave sacks of dried fruit to the children who took them with greedy hands. Not a single child uttered a word.

  “You are safe now,” was all Roland could think to say.

  It seemed like there should be more, that he should say more, however, he couldn’t find words of comfort for them. He knelt and took the hand of a young girl. Her left eye had been clouted and was swollen shut but her right eye was a bright blue. Blood dried on her lips and in her long blonde hair from a broken nose. She had rope burns on her neck.

  “You are safe now,” Roland said again.

  Roland and the others began the work of releasing the children from their chains and bonds of rope. It took time but none of the children showed any sign of impatience. In fact, they showed little sign of anything but weariness.

  Once they had refilled all of the water skins from the river, Roland and Facl went into the caverns to look around while the others worked to prepare a hot meal. They found where the drow had been digging here and there through the caverns but saw no pattern. It seemed a random search.

  Roland and Facl returned to the fire where everyone gathered for the warm meal they eagerly awaited. Eldryn had learned a trick or two from Ashcliff and had boiled the beef jerky in water. He had added a few herbs collected from nearby and had produced a very hearty stew. The men ate quietly as the sun rose above the forests to the east. The children consumed the stew. As soon as the meal was done each of the young ones fell to sleep.

  “I know we must head out of here soon,” Roland said. “However, the children need their rest and we cannot carry all of them. We should all get some rest and be ready for the journey back to Skult. We won’t be traveling as light going back, and we will have much more to care for. It will be a trying time for each of us.”

  Roland and the others split up to gather what useful items their fallen enemies might have. Each man kept the equipment from his own kills. The soldiers were unaccustomed to this practice in that it was usual for the knights, paladins, or whatever leaders were about to cherry pick the best finds. Roland retrieved several trinkets, a wand, and a frost brand dagger from Yorketh. The greatest treasure discovered on the dead mage were two maps. One of Daeriv’s inner forces, and his Keep, and the other a map of supply lines and outposts setup throughout northern Lawrec. The map of the Keep also indicated that there were a set of docks on the northern shore somewhat protected by that Keep.

  The men returned to the dying fire and began piling their new equipment with their packs. Then they began stripping the gear they wore. Eldryn and Pala were to take the first watch. Roland, Kodii and Facl the second. Tin and Tyll rested the whole day through.

  Roland awoke to find himself alone on the mountainside. He looked down river and saw several children in the water riding freshly cut logs and traveling swiftly toward Skult. He heard a footstep behind him and whirled.

  Clairenese was there, smiling. Roland felt peace settle over his heart and his spirit. He had truly never seen a woman so beautiful, and so gentle of presence.

  “All will be well for them,” Clairenese said. “You have saved them from their real peril.”

  “I love you,” Roland said. “That causes me to be afraid.

  “You said as much when we met,” Claire said with her crippling smile. “And I believe you, for I have a way of knowing a man’s mind. Why the fear, though? You must know that I love you as well.”

  “I do,” Roland said. “But now it’s not just El’ and I. Now I have our future to win. I fear that I may fail you.”

  “You face all of this, Daeriv and his terrible forces, and you are afraid of failure only?”

  “I have always been afraid of failing,” Roland said. “But before it was pride. Now…I cannot fail you.”

  “Know that I love you,” Claire said. “Trust in your Bolvii and trust in my love. Do what you must, and know that I love you.”

  “If the children are safe now,” Roland said, “what am I still doing here?”

  “You must return the Shrou-sheld Blancet to the Prince. It is his only hope against Daeriv.”

  “How will I ever find a single sword
in all of this mountain?”

  “You will find it because I will show you the way,” Clairenese said. “Follow me and take care to remember the route.”

  “How do you know where the sword is?”

  “Father was there when it was dropped,” Clairenese said. “He was once an evil man, but has not been so for several hundred years. He now wishes for peace, that is why he needed the Shadow Blade.”

  “What Shadow Blade?” Roland asked. “They are a myth spawned by dramatic merchants. They are no more than closet shadows told by burglars and thieves to scare one another.”

  “I assure you they are real. They are few, but powerful. Your traveling companion and friend, Ashcliff, he is a Shadow Blade. He retrieved the artifacts Father needed. Those items were his once. He lost them when he lost his one true friend and his own soul. He was cursed thereafter.”

  Clairenese came to Roland and they held each other.

  “Is this real?” Roland asked.

  “As real as any dream,” She said.

  Roland kissed her and felt hot desire and cool contentment roiling in his soul.

  “We haven’t much time,” Clairenese said when they finally separated. “Follow me.”

  Roland followed her deep into the caverns beyond many twists and turns. Roland took to marking the stone as he had done in the hallways of Nolcavanor. He attempted to remember each step and turn. Roland rounded the final turn and was faced with a flat stone wall.

  “Where from here?” Roland asked.

  “This wall is veined with enriched lexxmar,” Clairenese advised. “Father placed it here so that no one could ever find the body of the White Paladin. The wall is only a few inches thick and will fall to a little work. You must hurry for Daeriv sends some of his best after you even now.”

  “I will come for you,” Roland said.

  “I know.”

 

‹ Prev