The Blighted Fortress

by David E Dresner

  Breaking stealth slightly, they moved their legs into crisscrossing positions with their backs against the wide stone pillar. “Not exactly a comfortable position,” whispered Traveler and Glenda smiled back.

  “Our consolation prize,” whispered Glenda, “is that we definitely have the best seats in the house. We have a wide view of the room and most of the tables. The dais is right in front and that’s where the important people will sit. We’ll see and hear everything that happens there.”

  With their whispered exchanges over they settled into a stealth meditation mode. Their minds went back to their Chicago sanctuary with its safety, great food, books, and their study alcoves. Both remembered sitting under their cascading waterfalls with sweet soaps and lotions. They thought fondly of being rested, clean, well fed, and only struggling with the demands of their books.

  Those memories seemed a lifetime ago. Their current proximity to each other, absent deodorants, and wearing stable work clothes brought the present situation up-close and personal. Their meditation was broken by a roar similar to that heard in a zoo at feeding time.

  The roar was coming from hundreds of men entering through the massive doors. Their sound was a cacophony of shouting, boasting, challenging, and laughing. Chairs resisted being pulled across a rough stone floor with loud screeches. Tables groaned as massive arms descended to rest on them. Later they would groan again as massive drunken heads descended on them.

  With the influx of the large number of soldiers the air changed both its direction and its odor. Glenda poked Traveler, breaking stealth for a moment to show her holding her nose and Traveler grinned back.

  Simultaneous with the men sitting down, dozens of servants entered with large jars of ale for the soldiers. On the dais servants were pouring wine into the steins. Wine was for the nobility, it was far too expensive to waste on the average soldier.

  Many a nobleman had quipped “Ale is for the louts to get drunk on, while wine is for the educated to discuss philosophy and politics.” Other nobles quietly reflected that alcohol in any form quickly levels the playing field between the louts and philosophers.

  In the midst of cascading sounds, heads suddenly snapped up. The great hall was instantly quiet. A massive man entered the dais and walked slowly to the dining table. Most people would simply call him a true giant. NBA players would quickly agree.

  The man was suited in heavy leather with a chain hauberk that climbed up a thick neck and fell below his knees. His massive shoulders pushed the top of the armored shirt straight out from his neck. Thick dark blond hair fell outside the mail’s neck protection and landed on the squared shoulders. The duke, lord of all he surveyed, had arrived.

  That suit must weigh a ton, thought Traveler, respecting the giant’s strength.

  That suit should keep his body odor contained, thought Glenda.

  Then a second man quietly emerged. While the duke presented a physically commanding presence, this man projected the calm confidence of a behind-the-scenes puppet-master. A red cape fell across narrow shoulders and was cinched at his chest. An aged face looked across the seated warriors. The mage had joined the duke at the elevated head table.

  As the mage rotated his head to scan the seated men, Glenda stared down at him, then grasped Traveler’s arm. Hard. Pressing her lips against his ear she whispered, “His eyes!” They simultaneously wrapped themselves in their deepest stealth covering.

  Chapter 83

  The Jinn Assesses His Workers

  Looking out at the packed great room, the mage’s eyes swept across every warrior and occasionally paused. There had been a moment when a vibrational warning had come to him. It was a vibration not expected from this herd of human men. He instinctively poised himself to attack, defend, or retreat. Then the moment passed as quickly as it had arisen, there was no threat here. He was the only threat.

  The seated warriors who had been relaxed in the presence of their duke felt a primal fear pass through them when the mage appeared. The mage had somehow changed. His prior persona reflected an easy competency mixed with caring and a hint of humor. Now his face showed no emotion. His eyes seemed to contain a flickering flame that that mirrored the dais’s blazing hearth with its ascending sparks. No warrior chose to look into those eyes.

  As he paused to study the assembly, the mage observed their individual and collective fear. He knew fear was a survival instinct built into their cellular development over many eons. Their instinctive fear came from an unconscious awareness they were being studied by a great predator. Every goat knows when the tiger is approaching well before it hears the soft tread of heavy paws.

  The jinn inside the body of the mage calmly assessed the human herd as his assets. Brute strength, animal cunning, and pack obedience, but little else. These human resources were limited in their cognitive capabilities; however, under his continuing firm oversight they would complete construction of the portal.

  Once completed the portal would provide the gateway for the host to enter and end his isolation. The full host would find the dark god, absorb it, and end this too-long pursuit.

  The soldiers slowly relaxed as mugs of ale brought a needed calm to their nerves. As feasting and drinking progressed the jinn found itself concerned over the time being wasted as these humans gorged on food and alcohol. He recognized their feasting cycle. The more they drank the more they ate, and the more they ate the more alcohol they would consume.

  The jinn knew that alcohol in any form greatly disrupted human behavior. Even worse, their ability to fully function the next day was impaired. The creature decided that when they began work the next day on the portal he would abolish alcohol. They are not intelligent enough to drink and work. Drink goes.

  Chapter 84

  Observing the Creature from Above

  Traveler and Glenda studied the mage, as the mage in turn studied the feasting warriors. They watched his face which had an expression similar to a teacher looking with disapproval at a class. “How best to manage you?” was the unspoken message coming from the mage.

  They also watched his eyes. One moment they were calm and the next moment they held dancing red flames. They knew with a certainty this was the sought-after jinn, the fire creature from the museum. Now they understood the stories from Hermann and the stable foreman about the Hun army retreat and the rise of the mage. The jinn was in control of the fortress.

  Glenda again squeezed Traveler’s arm and finger pointed toward the seated duke. Both of them were struck by the rigidity of his face and his body. This was not the normal, animated duke they had heard about. In past feasts he would raise his large drinking horn to toast a selected warrior to accompanying cheers from the seated warriors.

  In prior feasts the toasted warrior would typically try to stand and bow to his lord first, then to his comrades. Frequently a saluting warrior only made it halfway up from his seat before swan diving onto the table. This drunken fellowship would generate another round of cheers from the men.

  This feast now had a different tone. It was quiet and subdued. The tone could be described as bordering on sad, similar to the mixed emotions generated by alcohol at a funeral wake. Warriors quietly drank as much as they could hold, but tried to remain inconspicuous.

  These warriors reminded Traveler of a group of middle school boys brought to the principal’s office on discipline charges. These school boys expected a serious lecture and possibly a suspension. These seated warriors felt the duke was no longer the principal in charge. There was a new principal and it was the mage. You did not want to visit him, his idea of a suspension chilled your bones.

  While the feasting continued, Glenda and Traveler noticed the mage had stood up and was leaning over the duke to whisper in his ear. The duke now rose and pointed to a seated warrior below to join him and the mage.

  The warrior slowly rose with obvious trepidation. He was struggling to clear his head before a visit to the dais. Traveler and Glenda immediately recognized the reluctant warrior, it
was Throbb.

  Throbb approached the steps to the elevated dais knowing all eyes were on him. Any misstep and he would be tomorrow’s joke. His first challenge was ascending the four steps to reach the top of the dais. There was silence as the seated warriors watched him slowly place each leg and foot to ensure he did not tumble backwards.

  The short walk and climb up seemed to refresh him. Once at the top he approached the duke and mage with a steady-enough walk. Standing in front of the duke, he bowed his head. Once again the size of the duke stood out. Throbb was a very large warrior himself but appeared as a child beside the giant.

  Both Traveler and Glenda immediately sensed this was not the confident, assertive Throbb they knew from the inn, nor the fearless warrior challenging the huge bear. This was a scared Throbb doing his best to hide his fear. They saw that while Throbb looked to the duke he never glanced at the mage. It was the mage he feared.

  Again the mage whispered in the duke’s ear. The duke placed a large hand on Throbb as if he knew the trembling warrior needed assurances. “We understand you had a set of experiences over the last several weeks and we would like you to tell us about them. We have heard about a young man who bested you in table wrestling. I find that hard to believe, you are a proven battle warrior with arm strength that few would seek to challenge.”

  Throbb visibly straightened and appeared to gain back some of his composure. However it was a two-edged compliment. One edge was high praise regarding his arm power. Mitigating the praise was the rumor that he was bested by a farm boy.

  The audience was fully entranced. Many of them had contested Throbb at a wrestling table to live with a sore shoulder for weeks after. Noisy drinking was now stilled as each seated warrior listened to Throbb’s response. Instead of Throbb answering, the mage whispered to the duke and the duke answered his own question.

  “Now the story claims,” said the duke, “that you and Karl, my master of hounds, pursued these two youths across dense woods to no avail. After several days of pursuit, the only creature discovered was a giant bear. I understand this was the father of bears and stood higher than a seated warrior on horseback. This bear attacked your men and the hounds. It was a killing animal without fear.

  “I was told by our master of hounds that you alone went on the attack against the beast. Your courage was remarkable. I have witnessed you as a true warrior in battle. In most battles we fight with our brothers on each side. In this battle it was only you against the beast. I once had to defend myself against such an animal and never have I had a more dangerous fight. I survived and you survived, so I salute you!”

  With this praise the hall’s tension was broken, loud cheering and table thumping rocked the hall. This was the duke they all knew. Ale mugs were raised and pointed at Throbb and the duke. Somehow the mugs never quite pointed at the mage.

  Throbb was now the man of the hour. He began to envision the rewards that may come from the duke. Possibly he would receive a farm or an inn and be able to retire from this warrior’s life. Throbb believed that each warrior had a fixed number of successful battles he could survive. His instincts told him he had reached that limit.

  As the duke told the story, Glenda and Traveler considered their own part in all of it. The duke had made an accurate telling of certain events but had omitted others. Glenda and Traveler realized that the “other” details were the real reason Throbb was on the stage.

  The mage now rose and moved to stand beside Throbb. The mage made a curt bow to Throbb and attempted a smile as he stared into Throbb’s eyes. The smile was twisted and the eye contact petrified the warrior. Throbb shivered and felt his knees weaken. He had to clench his lower body regions to avoid humiliating himself.

  Maintaining his warped smile the mage said, “We are all impressed with how you brought this giant bear down. Now let’s hear more details about the two youths. Given the events we all heard about from our lord,” and the mage nodded toward the duke, “they seem to be something beyond simple farm youth. Given your personal encounters with them, would you agree?”

  Throbb’s mind was a kaleidoscope of swirling thoughts and emotions. Part of him was trying to recall the events while part of him was still engaged with controlling his body’s nether region. Fear was an overwhelming force. He looked to the duke for support but found the duke was looking away from both him and the mage. The duke appeared as a man whose mind is elsewhere.

  Gaining his voice Throbb answered, “I am a simple warrior so my knowledge of things beyond normal is limited. I was naturally stunned when this youth bested me in wresting. He was tall and had solid shoulders but lacked the fullness of battle muscles. I remember looking him in the eye while our arms were contesting and saw a confidence rarely seen in any of my opponents either at wrestling or on the battlefield. I should have scared him yet he seemed above fear.”

  Throbb found that once he began to talk his mind and body settled down a bit. Now he began to accept the attention focused on him in front of his comrades. He again began to think ahead to his acclaim at the dinner tables. He would retell these stories many times and add subtle details.

  The details would present him facing a young man who was far from normal. He would strongly hint the man was a possible deity. Throbb, the giant bear killer and wrestler of gods, that was a story of Throbb the hero, not Throbb the vanquished.

  The mage seemed to accept this explanation with a slight nod, “Did you see or hear of other feats of strength?”

  Now relaxed, Throbb recalled the tales he heard from the innkeeper. “Indeed. The innkeeper offered overnight room and board if the boy would chop into firewood some portion of a large log pile. The keeper shared with me that the pile was easily several days of chopping for an experienced woodcutter; however, the boy did it all in an afternoon. The keeper said the boy must have gotten help, but he added that he never saw any help. It was unexplainable to the keeper.”

  Again the mage nodded in encouragement and Throbb suddenly produced another tale. “Before we began our arm contest one of my men, well into his cups, was a bit frisky toward the boy’s sister. She was dressed in simple clothes, however she was a beauty. Long russet hair on top of a very tall body with striking green eyes. A Viking may have called her a Valkyrie.”

  Glenda had a sweet smile on her face and nodded as she gave Traveler’s arm a strong squeeze. Traveler gave her a simple “get over it” look back.

  All the seated warriors were captivated by this image of one of their own being forward with a Valkyrie. They loved where this tale could go and were holding their breath for Throbb to continue. Many took deep draughts of ale sending their imaginations on fantasy trips fueled by the ale. What next? they silently pondered while waiting for Throbb to continue.

  Throbb saw he had the full attention of the warriors and he continued, “The boy was obviously going to challenge my man’s behavior when a great beast intervened. The innkeeper raises a fighting breed called Molossus. The Romans used them in battle and they are terrifying. The keeper breeds them to guard all sides of the inn. They obey only his commands.

  “This beast, named Trajan after the great Roman Caesar, was the alpha of the keeper’s pack and outweighed me. It had fangs that were as long and thick as my thumb. When it appeared in front of the girl, we all thought it was going to attack her. Maybe she appeared vulnerable or gave off an odor that stirred it.

  “Then she placed a hand on its head and we realized it was protecting her. It stood braced beside her and swept its eyes across each of my men to look for a threat. Trust me, there no challenge made toward the beast. The girl’s brother then sat down for our arm contest and that ended the focus on the girl.”

  As Throbb was speaking the creature was frustrated. The usable information was limited. All the creature could determine was that the young man was strong, but many farm men have power beyond their appearance. Big muscles don’t always mean superior power. The woodcutting story sounded like a keeper’s tall tale to amuse his gues
ts. The young woman had likely been the object of Throbb’s own pursuit not some nameless soldier. The girl had probably fed the beast and it was simply protecting her as its food source.

  The jinn was annoyed, this man Throbb was more a storyteller than a credible witness. What the jinn needed was hard information, such as what did the two actually look like. The jinn decided to enter the man’s mind and recover all relevant information including the visual images. Naturally this intrusion would destroy the cognitive mind, but that was not a concern to the jinn, gathering accurate data was the only thing that mattered.

  As a beaming Throbb was standing, his hoped-for retirement arrived, but not as he had wished. The watching audience saw he suddenly had an expression cross his face similar to those caused by a killing spear or sword thrust.

  In a moment his life as a human was over as the creature extracted all of Throbb’s thoughts and memories. The creature would later sift through the recovered data to determine if there was any possible threat to itself.

  The creature did not bother to reinstate Throbb’s nervous system, he was as disposable as a tissue. Without a sound, Throbb, the giant bear killer, collapsed to the floor. He was dead before his body was at rest.

  The audience sat stunned in their seats. There was no sound or movement. Then the mage knelt down, put his hand on Throbb’s neck and pronounced, “He has passed on. The stress of reliving these dangerous events has taken its toll. This feast should end now but each of you will remember and respect the experiences that warrior Throbb told us tonight. Tomorrow we will give him a proper burial.”