The Blighted Fortress

by David E Dresner

  Glenda returned and handed Traveler a bolting key, “Works just like the rooms and doors, assured privacy. Enough said on that subject.” Traveler made a speedy exit down the hallway to prepare for the long day ahead.

  The keeper had set up a table with a generous serving of foods. There were the usual warm breads and cheeses. Joining them were a slab of rich yellow butter and a jar of honey. Ale mugs were on the table filled with creamy milk.

  Just as they were seated and beginning to eat, the keeper brought out a platter of cooked eggs. The eggs were partially scrambled, partially poached and partially sunny-side. Despite their confused shapes they were delicious.

  Joining the eggs were slices of ham. Looking at the ham Glenda laughed and said, “After meeting Mister Boar yesterday I have no concern for how my pork is served, it’s welcome in all forms from bacon to chops.”

  The keeper joined them while Traveler and Glenda ate. “You’ll want to head out after you’re finished. Throbb will reach the duke’s fortress tomorrow and spin his tales of demons and other lies. You will be described as an eight-foot giant with hands like shovels. He will never admit being bested by a youth and his men will nod at his tales.”

  The keeper chuckled, “I warned him about your hidden strength, but he can only accept what his pride permits. He deserved your humbling, I have seen him at work tormenting the local farmers, and on those days he belongs in my pen with the other pigs.”

  “The duke, to his credit, is a fair man and knows Throbb; however, he is also a practical man. He needs to support his soldiers and their unit leaders, including Throbb. The best outcome for you is to be long gone. I’m sure the duke will have Throbb on a short leash to return to duty after a quick visit to my inn.”

  Traveler looked up from his empty plate. “We may have a problem, Hermann. We were sent to talk with the duke. We need to know how to get there without running into Throbb and his men.”

  The keeper shook his head, “That’s a meeting that’s unlikely to happen. Even if you avoid Throbb, you will find a well-guarded gate into the duke’s fortress. No stranger gets in without permission and nobody talks to the duke directly.

  “To meet the duke you must first meet with his mage and make your case. The mage then determines whether the requests are worthy of the duke’s time. Few, if any, are granted an audience. The mage passes harsh judgement on those attempting to bypass him and meet with the duke in private.

  “Be warned that the few who have met the mage have all returned in a confused state of mind. He has great powers over those he meets with, it seems impossible to keep secrets from him.”

  Glenda looked at the keeper and frowned, “What do the people say who have seen this mage? Is he old or young, tall or short, and how has he gotten into this position of power? Where did he come from, is he a relative of the duke’s? Has he always been the duke’s gatekeeper?”

  The keeper looked at Glenda and gave a shake of his head. “Definitely older and stooped of back. He was an important advisor in the court for many years. He grew up here and was trained by his father, the prior mage. He was well-liked and respected. His job was only to advise, nothing more.”

  “Sounds like he was a good guy, what happened to change that?” asked Traveler.

  Hermann leaned back in his chair. “If you are determined to meet with the mage there is a rather long story you should hear. I have heard it many times from visitors to the inn and they all tell basically the same tale. Do you wish to hear it?”

  Traveler and Glenda nodded. Glenda added, “Hermann, this story may be critical to our success, we’ll make time. And spare no details. The devil is often in the details.”

  Hermann smiled at her reference to the devil then said, “As you request. There should be enough time for the tale and for you to leave well ahead of Throbb.” Chuckling he added, “Besides, Throbb always insists on a large meal and lots of ale when he arrives, followed by a long nap. Now here’s the story.

  “The mage’s role changed when the duke’s lands were threatened by an invading army of Huns from the East. They were sweeping through the mountain passes and valleys on their way to invade the rich western cities. Under their leader, Attila, they were an unstoppable force. Their army destroyed all opposition that faced them.

  “Some mountain lords tried to negotiate a treaty but without success. It is said that the Hun leader laughed at them saying, ‘Why bargain when all is ours? You have nothing we cannot take.’

  “Our duke assumed there could be no negotiation and prepared to defend our land.”

  Chapter 39

  Best Laid Plans of Mice, Men, and Dukes

  “The duke’s strategy was to take the initiative and launch a surprise ambush attack. His attack would be centered around the final mountain pass. The pass’s narrowness gave him a strong advantage facing the much larger army. The duke patterned his strategy from the Spartans confronting the invading Persians at the entry pass of Thermopylae. A small group of Spartans was able to hold off the massive Persian army.”

  Glenda nodded, “So, that is how the duke stopped Attila.”

  “Sadly no, he did not. This is what I’ve heard from soldiers who were there.

  “The duke planned to arrive at the pass with his army a week in advance of the Hun’s earliest arrival. He would prepare the battlefield, both on the steep cliffs and in the open field. Sadly, the plan never got put into action. We later came to appreciate the skill and brilliance of the Hun armies and their leader Attila.

  “I am told that when the duke arrived at the open field he was stunned. He found the Hun army facing him. The Hun had already come through the bottleneck of the pass. There was no element of surprise. We were encircled and vastly outnumbered.

  “Somehow, facing certain defeat, the duke was able to meet with the Hun leader. How he secured the meeting is a mystery. He was alone with Attila except for the mage. How and why the mage was there is another mystery. After some time passed, the duke and the mage emerged from the tent. The next morning the Hun army had disappeared and we all survived. That ends the story.”

  “Well we’ll sort that story out when we meet these two,” said Traveler.

  “Perhaps you will meet the duke but probably not. Rumors coming out of fortress claim the duke is not just ill, he is a changed man. He is a recluse staying in his personal quarters in the fortress.

  “The mage now oversees all activities and appears to make all decisions. Even when the duke attends occasional dinners in the great hall, he speaks little. When he does, his voice is soft and hesitant. Our men who have known him in battle fear he has suffered a head trauma or possibly was poisoned by this Attila, others whisper the mage is at fault. No one knows the truth.

  “Now the sun is rising and you need to choose your course of travel.”

  Chapter 40

  Leaving Dodge

  “There are two routes to reach the fortress. One route is easy. Just stay on the narrow road in front of the inn. Follow it and it leads directly to the fortress in several days of brisk walking. Of course, that is the same route that Throbb will be on. You could stay on it until you hear him coming, then hide in the woods until he passes.

  “The second route is along the river which also flows directly to the fortress. That route is slower but keeps you from running into Throbb. You can follow the animal trails that are along the river and these well-worn trails should offer acceptable passage.

  “Regardless of the route taken, Throbb will likely have the master-of-hounds with him and of course the tracking hounds. Dogs need a starting scent, and I saw Throbb pocket Traveler’s table napkin when he left. Using the napkin scent the hound chase will be on. These tracking hounds are amazing at following a scent. It is impossible to elude them once they are on your trail.”

  Great, Traveler thought, show good table manners and what do you get? A pack of hunting dogs after you.

  With his travel advice over, the keeper handed each of them a cloth bag filled wi
th various foods. The bags were cinched with a rope which served as an over-the-shoulder carrying strap. Glenda gave the keeper a hug, and Traveler offered a warm handshake. They put the bags over their shoulders and stepped outside.

  Chapter 41

  River or Road?

  Once outside Glenda said, “We really need to know what went on in that Attila meeting. I think there are big clues for us regarding the dangers ahead. If we’re lucky we may find tips about how to possibly neutralize the jinn.”

  Traveler agreed, “I have no idea how the duke managed to escape, maybe he bargained by selling out his fellow lords. I do have a strong reaction to this mage. He doesn’t sound like the sharpest blade in the world of mages. I bet he was just a loyal dog following his master, then he got very lucky and survived. The duke is probably ill from all the stress, possibly poisoned, and so this mage falls into the power position.

  “Anyway, let’s save that mystery for later. Right now we need to survive a pursuing Throbb and whatever hound pack he’s bringing with him. It’s a shame we can’t turn Trajan’s pack loose on those hounds.”

  “Well we can’t, so let’s start down the road right now. We need to get some distance from the inn then we’ll figure out the best route,” said Glenda.

  “Agreed, and it’s better for Hermann if he doesn’t see what we decide to do. In his case, the less he knows the better off he’ll be when Throbb shows up.”

  As they were finding their walking pace, they discovered it was a warm fall morning. Birds announced themselves and a soft breeze promised to cool their hike. The cooling breeze also delivered fall pollen and Glenda gave a big sneeze. Traveler started to laugh when his own nose itched followed by a sneeze explosion.

  After Traveler’s sneeze Glenda laughed, “Stealth is defeated by pollen! I bet even the Garden of Eden had it. God’s little joke to keep humans in their place.” She then wiped her nose while Traveler answered with another big sneeze.

  “OK Sneezy, do Tarzan and Jane use the road to move faster or go slower beside the freezing river?”

  Traveler pondered his answer, “To paraphrase old Paul Revere, ‘One is by land, and two is by river’ and Sneezy votes for land. We have the forest as cover on both sides of the road. We can leap up into trees if need be.”

  “Road trip it is then,” answered Glenda, “and a fine morning for hiking it is.”

  The calmness of the day wrapped around them, the village and Hermann quickly disappeared. The road continued ahead as a wide dirt trail. It was more than a path but less than a true road. The width of the road varied as it converged and diverged depending on the surrounding trees and rocks. Still the road was serviceable for horses pulling wagons as long as they could move to the side when necessary.

  “I wonder how this road fares in the rain, it has to be one very long mud puddle,” said Traveler. “Probably the result of minimum maintenance. I’ll bet it’s only here so the duke can collect taxes and food from the locals.”

  Now that the morning meal had settled, they fell into a natural striding rhythm. Each of them thought about the huge road investment made by Rome to connect and civilize large parts of Europe.

  Suddenly Glenda exclaimed, “Watch out! I just stepped in a small pothole filled with mud and never saw it. We can’t afford to twist an ankle and then try to run from Throbb and his hounds.” Traveler nodded and began to look more carefully at the road’s surface.

  As they walked in silence, they observed the massive trees on both sides of the road housing a multitude of birds. “This must be nesting season, there are a lot of birds carrying twigs somewhere,” observed Glenda.

  Traveler nodded, “As a boy scout, I was a birdwatcher back in Charlottesville. There are more types here than I’ve ever seen. I don’t think some of these birds even exist anymore. Speaking of birds. Since you’re Norwegian I bet you don’t know that the American passenger pigeon died off in the early 1900s.

  “They had flocks in the millions but were hunted to extinction for food and sport, just like the great buffalo herds. The last pigeon was a female named Martha after George Washington’s wife. Martha passed in 1914 and never laid a fertile egg. Civilization and people are killing off lots of animals and birds and that’s sad and wrong.”

  Glenda now had the history bit in her own mouth, “Since we’re discussing nature, you know birds and buffalo but I know ice. Did you know that the Ice Age ended in Scandinavia around 11,000 BC? In Norway we grow up with ice and snow. We are a country of ragged mountains and fiords all created as the glaciers cut through our land then melted. The melted ice created the most clear and beautiful lakes.”

  In the middle of their conversation Traveler suddenly smacked his arm, “Ouch! That fly was the size of a sparrow, and hungry. We need hats to swat these monsters away.”

  Glenda walked to the side of the road and snapped several small branches off a leafy tree. “Use this as a swatter. Pretend you’re a cow or horse and just keep the swatter tail going non-stop.” Traveler took his swatter and immediately began creating a protective force field around himself.

  After walking and swatting for some time he found he was a bit bored. He suddenly swatted Glenda’s hair, “Big fly ready to nest in your locks. I probably saved your life.”

  Boys and swat toys, dangerous combination when bored, she thought. “I really appreciate that. I’ll keep a keen lookout for you also, trust me.”

  Continuing on the dirt road they noticed a sharp narrowing ahead, “Looks like the road maintenance money ran out up ahead. Maybe they changed work crews and somebody got lazy or maybe the flies drove them off.”

  “Likely all three,” Glenda said.

  “I’m hot, thirsty, and frankly getting tired,” said Traveler.

  “Well, I couldn’t have said it any better. Let’s head for the sound of a running stream, fill up on water, and cool off.”

  Chapter 42

  Off the Beaten Path

  “Lucky us,” said Traveler. “This narrow part of the road has a path starting behind the big stump and heads toward the river. I bet the road guys created this access trail to water their horses and oxen.” The two headed into the dense woods following the trail.

  What was once a cleared path was rapidly becoming part of the forest. Fresh saplings had rooted in the open space and were climbing for light. Existing trees had their lower branches spreading to capture the open space and discourage the sapling growth.

  As they walked single file Traveler cautioned, “Better keep a safe distance behind me. Some of these branches are whips when I push through them. This path is going to be ancient history in a couple more years.”

  Glenda gave a grunting “OK” as she followed, pushing aside challenging undergrowth. The branches seemed to resent Glenda’s second pushing away and she heard them snap back with a crack. “I think the woods are mad that we’re moving them out of their sunlight territory. Light is scarce down here and nobody gives up their share of sun without fighting back.”

  Traveler turned to acknowledge her comment and found a thorn bush was scraping across his arm. “Ouch! New growth with an attitude.”

  Leaning down he picked up several recently dead limbs and handed one back to Glenda. “Use this to push stuff away before using your body.”

  “Thank you, good idea.” Glenda thought to herself, So obvious, why didn’t I think of that. The forest is dumbing me down. Just then a nasty green fly took a bite of her clearing arm. Traveler heard her loud “ouch” followed by an unladylike word.

  Going was slow and after half an hour of pushing brambles out of the way, Traveler announced, “Break time.”

  “That’s the second good idea you’ve had in an hour. The forest is making you smarter while it’s dumbing me down.”

  “Nothing smart going on here. I need to rest; my arms are ready to fall off. I feel like Stanley looking for Livingstone.”

  “Stanley who?”

  “You don’t know about Stanley finding Livingstone?”r />
  “I guess the answer is ‘no’ and I don’t think I ever did. I bet you’re going to educate me.”

  Traveler grinned, “Well it’s a true story, and a great one. One of the most famous people in England in the mid-1800s was a missionary explorer named–”

  “Wait, let me guess, he’s Livingstone. Am I right?”

  “Give the little lady a stuffed panda bear. Yes, you are correct. May I continue?”

  “I can’t wait. Keep educating me, please.”

  “Well at this time explorers were just beginning to explore and survey the dense African interior. One of their goals was to find the source of the mighty Nile River. Did you know the Nile is the longest river in the world? It’s over 4000 miles long. To appreciate that distance, the mighty Mississippi is only a bit over 2000 miles. The Nile is twice as long.”

  “Wow.”

  “That sarcasm just lost you the sweet panda bear. Anyway, Livingstone was charged with locating the source of the Nile somewhere in the heart of Africa. Over time his progress reports slowed then stopped. All England felt they had lost one of their great explorers and a great man. So, a second man–”

  “Don’t tell me, I’m betting its Stanley, right?”

  “The little lady is correct, but an answer with attitude again loses the panda. I suggest you consider your limited entertainment choices right now. Listen, learn, and enjoy the tale.

  “To continue, both men become exhausted in the unforgiving jungles. They wandered separately for years. They each encountered a host of dangers including debilitating diseases, poisonous snakes, hungry jungle cats, and river crocodiles.

  “Indigenous tribes were another great threat. When Livingstone finally stumbled upon a major village, he had to witness Arab slave traders shooting the villagers for sport.