by Clark Bolton
“We are landing! Go get all your stuff; no time to do more for him!” Berdtom told the girls as they filed passed them.
Onaleen objected. “I can do more, I know I can!”
Autbek watched her for a moment in sadness. “No, Onaleen, we have to go, I think he will be ok!” He hoped he sounded more convincing then he felt.
She looked down at her patient in the hammock for a moment then nodded her head. “Ok, I guess I don’t know how to help more anyway.” With that she gave one of the crew some instructions with the help of Pemmesa in the use of the herbs, and then went to retrieve her pack.
Their descent by rope was much the same as their boarding. Murac went first as the captain did his best to steady the ship in the darkness. They looked to be in a set of rocky foothills with no signs of civilization whatsoever.
No words of friendship or even a thank you were offered by the crew, though they did seem more gently with the dwarves. With only a nod from the captain, Autbek, the last to leave, slid over the side with help from the crew.
Chapter 28
“An old place to find an old man!” Bek remarked as he guided his mount through the thin trees and onto the well-worn stone tiles of the Antarak ruins a short distance outside of Astrum. Behind him came Fesmbol and his three men-at-arms who had become their constant companions of late. He knew the three to be largely status symbols for Fesmbol, rather than for any real need for protection.
“You said it would be in ruins.” Fesmbol said sarcastically as he looked at the jumble of stones that looked to have once stood erect as in other such places throughout the lands of Bene Aimont. Here not a single monolith was standing except for several very short ones that stood little taller than a man. “Why ever did you come here in the past?”
“Spring festivals and such.” Bek replied with a melancholy look to his face. “This stone here I used to dance about as a boy.” He noted as he stretched out a foot to lightly kick the stone from horseback.
“Over here my lord!” One of the men-at-arms called out as he motioned toward a thin clump of trees at the far end of the open square. Fesmbol dismounted and handed the reins of his horse off to one of the men and began walking toward what looked to be a couple of people sitting in the shade.
“Eifled, the Elder!” Fesmbol called out to the familiar figure that he saw now was accompanied by a couple of men in the livery of the Mage Councilor’s office. “I’m told by dwarves that you have fallen in love with this place.”
“Indeed my lord Fesmbol, I have, or what is left of it.” Eifled replied as he set aside some parchments he had been working with. “Have you come to share my love for a place once better deserving of it?”
“Ney, such rubble I leave to you scholars.” Fesmbol replied as he walked up to the man to see what he could possibly be doing at such an ancient site. “It’s mages I’ve come looking for at that tower they call home, but always they are absent as are you.”
Eifled nodded his head as he studied the Earl’s son for a moment. “The court has been active and so I think these mages are being missed more than me.”
“Not so, father has asked for you more than the Mage Councilor as I recall it. Seems he and his court have not forgiven that last mage of theirs unlike myself.” Fesmbol gave Eifled a wide smile as he motioned for Eifled’s two companions to leave which they promptly did with a bow.
“Good to be appreciated by the lord of the land.” Eifled replied. “But Autbek and his apprentices have taken a short journey, my lord, and so you’ll not find them with me. Which is just as well as the study of the past can be trying for those not half as old as I.”
“I’m sure but none the less I am wondering when I can first exercise my rights to their company though the need is not great at the moment.”
“Oh, a need has come your way that the court cannot fulfill but you think that a mage can.” Eifled stated flatly. “I hope it can wait for some time as it may be that before my friends return again to Astrum.”
Fesmbol nodded his head while spouting a most insincere smile. “Bek misses them so! Don’t you Bek?” Fesmbol called out over his shoulder at the man who had been wandering around aimlessly through the ruins.
“I do for sure, my lord!” Bek yelled back in an unconvincing tone.
“Ha-ha, now do tell me where they went Eifled as I do feel you have some obligation to say.” Fesmbol said with a quick frown.
“The mages in that tower only confide in me so long as I commit not to pen their activities until long past have their deeds gone, and so I think to let slip from my mind temporarily what is not mine to tell.”
Fesmbol shook his head in disappointment at Eifled’s elegant excuse before saying, “Then can I not say to you what the court has been doing?”
“To me, my lord, or to the land of Astrum?” Eifled asked quizzically. “I know what it is your father has them thinking and I see in you that it may have come to pass.”
“You are a soothsayer and fortuneteller, Eifled, and you are right, they are calling all to service here into this wood.” He said as he motioned around him with his arms. “For so large is the number that a place like this will have to serve as a palace for some.”
Eifled frowned as he reasoned what must have happened. “This army of his will not have the King’s blessing and will be seen as crossing a line not crossed in some centuries.”
“Yes!” Fesmbol replied loudly with some glee. “They call you wise so let me then ask you my place in all this, or should I wait until I can employ one of the tower’s mages to help me find my own answers?”
Eifled sadly looked about him at the once majestic place of worship for a few moments before replying slowly, “You have the needed initiative to make a fine prince, Fesmbol, though the blood your family will have to wade through to get you there will be deep.”
Fesmbol glanced back at his friend, Bek, to see if he had heard Eifled’s comment before saying softly, “Blood from this is not mine to staunch I tell you. I was content a year ago to be a businessman’s lackey until I could learn to stand on my own before Cachner dragged me into my father’s light.” He then stood tall and looked down his nose at Eifled to say, “I will be a prince then…and one with mages at my call.”
Eifled felt compelled to say, “They will come, future prince, but you will not be able to compel them to do all that I see in your mind.”
“Ha-ha, perhaps not all!” Fesmbol laughed as he turned to leave. “But do remind them, Eifled the Elder, that I must be kept happy least I open that box.” He motioned to Bek to come to him as he walked back to his horse.
“Will you be getting a pet mage soon?” Bek asked as they prepared to leave.
“Hmm!” Fesmbol mumbled as he paused to look around one last time. “That is not the real question here though is it, Bek?” He said in a condescending tone as he glanced toward the distant Eifled who was out of earshot. “You need to ask yourself why the man most apt at piecing together the reasons for a coming catastrophe, and a war, is in a place like this making sketches of runes on stones…while studying a finely penned poem!”
“He’s a sage.” Bek grumbled as he climbed into the saddle. “They like to count the dead then tell lies about them!”
“Yes…” Fesmbol replied as he thought of something. “…or talk to them about what they might know!” Glancing back at Eifled from atop his horse he could not help but conclude that the man was doing something essential for Autbek or perhaps Berdtom. “Are there other places like this near?”
Bek shrugged as he waited impatiently for them to get moving. “Don’t think so.”
After the Bone-Cutter disappeared they watched the starry sky for a few minutes longer in awe of what they had just accomplished. Then they began to access their surroundings. They found Murac had already chosen a campsite and was in the process of climbing to the top of a small hill.
“Keep the fire small and make sure it is out before first light!” Murac told them as he sat down on a
boulder, not far from the top.
Nobody said much as they pulled out blankets and helped the dwarves with the fire building. No one seemed able to tell how long it would be before sunrise and so all rushed to lie down, finding themselves now suddenly exhausted.
When the sun was nearly up, Murac announced the direction they should go. He and the dwarves had worked out their position as best they could from the stars and from the rising sun. “Looks like we are near where we expected to be. With luck the small city of Urbourkas will be there to the left and the Monastery off that way to our right.”
Berdtom nodded his head. “If the city is closer we should go there first to pick up horses or mules. Hopefully, and according to our best maps, there is a road from the city to the Monastery.”
“Yep, think we are a lot closer to the city.” Murac added as he waited for the others to pick up their packs.
Traveling by foot across the hills turned out to be painfully slow, especially with the girls, none of whom had ever carried a pack nor traveled far. After a time the party divided up nearly everything the girls carried, with the dwarves taking the bulk of it.
After a day of travel the girls had reclaimed much of it, being ashamed that they were not carrying their weight. Haspeth figured out about that time that successive levitate spells on one’s pack made for a much lighter load, though Autbek cautioned him on expending all his energy in that way.
“What! If I carry it without levitating don’t I lose just as much energy?” Haspeth asked him incredulously.
Autbek had no answer to that, and so left it to Haspeth to decide what worked best for him. Finally though, on the second day of travel, with still no signs of civilization he found himself applying levitation spells to his pack and to anyone else who asked for it.
“Thanks, O’t.” Onaleen smiled as he lightened her load again for about the fourth time that day.
Murac was the first to point out haze in the distance. “Looks like something off that way, town maybe.” This lifted everyone's spirits, though it soon dropped again when they heard wolves howling.
Castor began drawing runes on his pack and that of Lita’s. “Hope they are not as big as wyverns!”
“Bring them on, I say!” Haspeth announced as he bounced on with his pack, light as air, after Murac.
“Careful what you wish for.”
When they caught sight of wolves on a hilltop some distance away Murac studied them carefully. “Big! Dire-wolves maybe, anyway best be prepared.” He then removed the short bow he had strapped to his pack and then pulled a small quiver of arrows out and attached it to his belt.
The others looked at each other with concern but when the wolves disappeared from the hilltop they managed to put them out of their minds for the most part. When the second set of howls started it was obvious now that the wolves were much closer.
Murac turned to look back the way they had come. “Negorch, Luzac, keep to the rear, and whatever happens nobody runs! Understood?”
Haspeth gulped as he nodded his head. “Yea, but what happens if you run?”
“They will ignore all the rest of us, and then they will run you down like a deer.”
“Oh! Anyways you want me to shoot one?”
“First chance you get as that will likely keep them back.”
Castor could not resist a comment. “You know if you start running that will draw them in close enough to shoot!”
It took a moment for Haspeth to catch that. “Ohhh, ha-ha! Hey, how about an illusion! You could draw one in that way and I’ll take him out.”
“Not a bad idea battle-mage!” Castor admitted, but decided not to act on it yet.
When they caught sight of one looking right down at them from a hill, not more than two hundred paces away, they realized how huge they really were. “Gods!” Haspeth exclaimed, “That’s as big as a pony!”
The girls screeched and everyone packed in closer together. Autbek figured the wolf was just about in range. “Little closer … come on!”
“No!” Onaleen exclaimed. “Chase it away!”
Murac halted and looked around the gully they were in. “They are coming soon, so let’s pick the spot.” He then lead them a short distance to a rise that had several boulders on it. “Girls, get down there.” Murac then climbed up on a boulder and nocked an arrow.
The party did not have to wait long for several wolves to come down out of the hills to investigate. They seemed in no hurry to attack as their numbers slowly swelled.
Murac cursed. “Damn smart! They are keeping out of arrow range.”
Autbek looked to Castor. “Can you draw them closer? Twenty paces will about do it.”
They all looked to Castor who continued to study the wolves. “Give me a few minutes.” He then went to were the three girls were huddled and preceded, with Lita’s help, to sketch out a black rabbit on the face of one of the boulders.
Autbek watched in fascination as his student filled in the details and then began casting a spell. Suddenly the huge rabbit came to life and sprang from the boulder, and then it promptly sat down as if thinking.
Castor walked out a couple paces from the party. “Ready battle-mage?”
Haspeth grinned and then stepped up beside him. Autbek stepped up also figuring a show of overwhelming force would be the best way to scare off the pack.
There were about eight wolves now and they had started building a semi-circle around the party’s position. “I’ll send it down out that way then have it cut back toward us.” Castor announced.
When the rabbit sprang into action the wolves immediately took note, and true to form they could not resist the chase. Four wolves ran to cut off the rabbit as it looked to be heading down the wide gully. Castor let them get close then turned the illusion back toward the party.
The guise worked, and soon the air was filled with first the sound of enchanted missiles seeking their target, and then the yelp of injured wolves.
“CRAAACK!” When Autbek let loose with a lightning bolt the whole pack scattered and then ran for the hills.
“Woooo!” Haspeth yelled with arms raised as they disappeared over the hill. One badly injured wolf limped as best it could after the pack, leaving three of its pack mates behind in a smoldering mess.
“Damn dwarves, are they outmatched or what!” Murac exclaimed as he jumped down from the boulder and proceeded toward the dead wolves.
“This day they be!” Luzac agreed as he followed Murac.
They poked the bodies for a minute, marveling at the sheer size of the beasts, though Onaleen and Pemmesa refused to go near them. Castor did a quick sketch as Haspeth stood with his foot on the snout of one of them. Later when Haspeth asked to see the sketch he was disappointed to find out that he was not in it.
The party did not delay long and so soon headed down the gully again with a rather large black rabbit taking up the rear. Negorch grumbled about the thing but then decided it could be useful again. “Come on then, ya bloody hare!”
They walked for a few more hours then as the sun set Murac picked out what looked to be a defensible spot where they camped for the night. Though they heard several howls that night they were short and very far away.
Just before dawn Murac had the dwarves cook breakfast in the dark and then put out the fire so as not to have smoke about come first light. Though the food was a bit cold when the others arose no one complained, and so soon they were walking again.
Haspeth chatted with anyone who would listen that morning, but it was often to Murac’s back that he spoke. “No wonder there are no people about with wolves that big who could stand this place!” When Murac signaled suddenly for him to be quiet he could not help but asked why. “Huh?”
Murac had smelled smoke, though they could not see any. The haze in the distance they still saw from time to time but never could they detect any scent of civilization. “Be quiet now, Haspeth.”
“Ok.” Haspeth whispered.
The party then walked in si
lence down a narrow and rather steep ravine that looked to have not seen rain in some time. As they came to one of countless turns Murac frantically signaled them to halt, but it was too late. Most of them were now in full view of a man who at the moment had his back to them.
The point where the man stood looked to be a wide intersection of two or three gullies, and it was here that he or others had built a large campsite. There were various poles and crude drying racks, as well as items hanging from several stunted trees. The remains of a fire smoldered near the man who appeared sparsely dressed and in the process of mending or attending to something the party could not see.
Murac had to make the decision on whether to openly approach or try and back the party up before they were seen. He chose to walk forward, but got only a step or two before two very large wolf-like dogs jumped up from where they had been laying out of sight near the fire.
“GRRRRRR!” This alerted the man who quickly reached for a large weapon that appeared to be a spiked mace. He then paused to study the party for a moment.
Murac called out. “Hail! How be you this fine morning.” Hoping this would calm the man down a bit.
Castor spoke up. “Murac he keeps looking to his left; think there are more there!”
“Think you're right!” Murac said as he drew his long sword when it became apparent the man was intent on aggression.The two sides were still maybe fifty paces apart so when the man commanded his dogs to attack they had a bit of time.
“Those are wolves!” Haspeth exclaimed as the creatures sprinted toward them. It was about this time that they all realized he was right and that these two were even bigger than the three they had killed the day before.
Murac began barking commands. “O’t, ignore the wolves get that bastard! Luzac, up here with me! The rest of ya to this side…Haspeth the wolves!”
Autbek’s heart pounded as he concentrated on digesting what Murac had said, and so turning to gauge the distance to the man as he sidestepped with the rest of the part to one side of the ravine, he was shocked to realize now the size of him. He had to be at least twice Castor’s height. “Gods, he’s a giant!”