The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  The floating armada, free from imminent death, trudged toward the shore of Lemuria with exhausted and heavy hearts. None too soon, Erol and Belgin finally reached a place where they could walk. The two plodded and then crawled to the beach. The thankful centaurs helping them and Gile to the shore where all collapsed in complete fatigue.

  “Thank you,” Belgin sputtered to Gile as he fell to the sand. Two simple words, but in the entire history of the two words so often used, they never held a deeper debt of gratitude.

  On the safety of the beach, the women centaurs looked out for the young. Frantic families found each other while others only found sorrow. All counted both their blessings and what they tragically lost forever. A distraught Cergon stood insolently against the evening sky, staring at the dissipating cloud of fog that was beginning to reveal the empty sea where his beloved island of Sundaland should have been standing. Only a ghostly crown rim of rock for the fallen king that was the island still shyly peeked above the calm waters. They were mere suggestions of the majestic home that diligently stood watch off the shore of Lemuria since the dawn of time.

  Cergon’s weeping wife and young son joined him as they stared in disbelief at where Sundaland stood earlier. Belgin leaned in, still gasping for an evading breath that would bring his breathing back to normal, “I am sorry for your loss.” Tears fell from his eyes, both for the loss of his friends and his appreciation of them saving Erol and himself. His sincerity was evident to Cergon, who appreciated the gesture but desired no pity.

  Cergon broke his stare and looked to Erol. His emotions on the edge of taking him, “I watched as my parents were swept away, sucked in by the wizard’s whirl pool. This was the doing of Herrog. I know it in my heart.”

  “We did the best we could,” Belgin defended, feeling he let the centaur down.

  “No, friend, if not for you all would have been lost. You asked for my help earlier and I am embarrassed to say I told you it was not my problem to help. Moments later, without me even asking, all three of you rushed to our aid. I have learned something today, even in this loss.”

  Cergon set his jaw, his voice stern and determined, “There is one who will be held responsible for this. I will not stop until Herrog has been paid back double for this turn.”

  Belgin said no more as the sun set on the cold fireless camp, bringing an end to this terrible day. One of the most beautiful and precious parts of Lemuria was lost forever, wickedly removed.

  Δ

  The next morning Erol woke to see the centaurs standing at attention in ranks across the beach, the tide breaking endlessly on the hard sand behind them as though the events the day prior never occurred. The sun was still low in the waking sky when Erol reached over and pushed his father and Gile, drawing them from slumber. The centaurs were up well before dawn, but Belgin and Gile were anything but early risers.

  Cergon approached with his wife and child at his side. His voice cracked as he spoke wistfully of his land, “We have no home. Our marvelous city, our lush gardens and forests and our sacred healing fountains are no more. Forever we guarded them so that no one would know of or grow to desire our land and its secret. Now they are gone. So few were ever able to see them outside our people.”

  The immense sadness the centaurs held for their lost land hung on their every move and word. Cergon turned to Belgin and Erol, “I seek your permission to find a suitable land and hopefully establish a new city for my people.”

  Erol looked at the ranks of centaurs, there was over one thousand in all, “You will need quite an area and none of it is ours to give. You will need to seek the permission of Tegan, King of the Dwarves.”

  Cergon grimaced at the thought. “They can be hard to bargain with, very stubborn are dwarves.”

  Belgin spoke, “Can not the same be said of centaurs? Things change. Before yesterday, I had never seen a dragon I didn’t kill. Today I have one as a friend that I count closer than any other, one that helped save you.”

  Cergon looked at his son, wondering what type of things would be different in his time, just as his was far different from his father’s time. “Aye, things change. Where do I find Tegan, that I might ask my favor?”

  “He resides in the city of Tunder Bin and he will gladly hear your request there. Will you accompany us, as we are going there ourselves?” Erol offered, hoping the centaur would accept.

  With a quick look to his beleaguered and hungry army and people, he accepted, “We will march with you to Tunder Bin. We thank you for the offer.” Cergon’s wife elbowed him, reminding him of his manners, “Excuse me, this is my wife, Natalia. My son here is Franor.”

  “Very nice to meet you, we are forever in your debt for saving us,” Natalia offered far more graciously than her husband was capable. The centaurs were a strong race, many of which were highly trained soldiers. From the torso up, they were just like human men. They were very strong, with men usually not wearing anything, the women wearing halter tops only. The women, much like harpies, were very beautiful. The skin of the centaurs was much darker than that of the harpies, closer to the color of their hides. While the men were ornery and difficult, the women were very nurturing and gracious. The two were tremendous compliments of each other.

  The centaur’s weapon of choice was a bow for long distance and a sword for close battle. Both skills were on display during the fight the previous day. Erol knew Tegan would happily receive the centaur army, with his goal to find Milan still lingering. The brewing hate Cergon held for Herrog would also help during the inevitable battle that lay ahead.

  Erol, Belgin and Gile led the army toward Tunder Bin. Their journey of chasing the goblins lasted several weeks, taking them far to the north and eventually back south to the west coast of Lemuria. The trip from there to Tunder Bin would take less than a week if they got underway quickly, but first they needed to find food for the hungry and medicine for the sick and injured. Several of the centaurs knew the healing arts and led the search for the needed plants. They also carried several vials of the precious healing waters from their fallen land. The worth of the water now far more than its weight in gold. They sparingly applied the healing water, stretching it as far as they could.

  When Cergon gave the order of ready, the march toward Tunder Bin commenced. Not only did the order leave their former land behind, it also left their sorrow. While the nervousness carried in each centaur family for their uncertain future was evident, Erol was amazed as the centaurs seemed to have put the prior day’s events behind them. They were content in the moment and happy, despite the tragic loss of the day before.

  “Your people are strong,” Erol complimented Cergon.

  The centaur king looked around at his people, as many a mother held the hand of their young as the marched, noticing all that was new to them with appreciation and wonder. “Yesterday is gone, today is blessing and tomorrow a mystery. We try to live in the day, with only those of us that are charged by our position to reluctantly consider the always uncertain future.”

  The centaurs would need to rely on the goodness of the others to see them through for a while, and that was something they weren’t comfortable doing.

  Chapter 8: The Gruff Centaur

  “Sharpen the blades and shine the shields!” Tegan ordered. He was beyond beaming with the thoughts of finally marching to save Milan. Excitement blossomed across the city. Few things occurred within the mountain that brought it to attention and max efficiency like preparing for war. The orderliness brought them through many wars and skirmishes over time, as each man and woman set aside all personal tasks. Each took their assigned role and worked in unison for the good of their beloved city and people. But this day, this war, was extra special. This was not a fight over land or goods. It was to avenge their adored kidnapped Queen. The dwarves’ goal was to right this grievous wrong and return the Queen safely back.

  Arlow’s people came forward to fortify the dwarf army. The gargoyles also joined the cause, as Kyrie promised. Together, they
were prepared to depart for a long trip to the far north and the many struggles the army would encounter on the journey. Stores needed tended to, for the traveling army and the people remaining. Kings Fiji and Dorir would bring their best men to the force and lead them into battle. Tegan and Telon eagerly awaited their arrival, as their excitement for the battle brimmed for days on end.

  Tegan planned his route carefully, considering the many spots along the way the goblins and trolls could waylay them. They would march past the lands of the harpies and gargoyles. Tegan hoped to bolster his already stout force as he traveled north. He cared not who was aware of their movements, as he feared no one and would hide nothing as they went.

  “Are you ready to go back?” Telon asked of his brother. Due to the painful memories he carried, Tegan had not traveled back to the Demon’s Chamber since losing Milan.

  “I do not wish to, but it is on the path to Milan, so it must be done,” Tegan replied. “There is other business to speak of there also. If not for it, I would be choosing a different path.”

  Tegan noticed a slight tremble that shook the mountain. It was not a violent shake, but many of the dwarves happily ran out of the mountain, assuming Erol returned. Seeing no sign of his ogre friend, Tegan ordered, “Jaric, please go to the furnace room and ensure all is well.”

  Jaric quickly returned, “All is fine. They did notice the tremor, but there is no damage to speak of.” As Tegan brushed it off, moving back to the logistics of moving an army, a soldier came searching for him. He wore an urgent look, daring to interrupt the King from his work. He barely took time for the proper salute, “Lord, Telon has requested that you immediately come to the Upper Chamber, something is happening to the west.”

  Tegan rushed to follow the soldier as they ran up the short steps into the dining room. Telon and several other generals stood before the giant window looking out over the mountains. Far away, they could see a tremendous plume of smoke, dust, and fire shooting into the sky. It was quickly spreading in all directions. It was as if the sky was the floor and dirt was pouring from the mountain, spreading across it. No one had witnessed such an eruption since the fall of the Demon’s Chamber, but this one was far larger.

  “Where do you believe that is?” Jaric gasped, unable to fathom the power and energy released to cause the vision rising in the sky before him.

  “It must be one of the islands to the west of Lemuria. There are several that have active volcanoes on them,” Telon answered, concerned for anything residing near it.

  “Perhaps it is Sundaland? Send a small troop there in the morning to see what aid is needed, if any there yet live,” Tegan ordered. The destruction was too much for him to consider.

  “If it is the centaurs, they may be too proud to accept our help,” Telon added, knowing well the centaur’s hermit tendency.

  “Whoever it is, they may not have a choice,” Tegan answered. It was a horrible sight, even from this distance. He could not imagine what it looked like up close.

  “If the tables were turned, would they send us aid?” Telon posed, knowing the answer.

  “Probably not. But our job is to help those in need. Whoever is on that island will have severe need. We will do our part.” Tegan’s answered sharply, stopping Telon’s line of thought.

  Daril, one of Jaric’s sons, accepted the errand of finding those affected by the eruption and offering aid as needed. He and his men departed in the wee hours of the morning, hoping to be back within a few days. They marched hard for the coast on the West Road, the menacing cloud of the volcano lingering before them. His men understood their orders, with others quickly picking up their duties. The men would have rather been marching north to save the Queen, but that would wait until they returned.

  It was late afternoon on day two of their march when they reached the point where their trek would leave the well-trod road, leading instead on a worn dirt path that meandered through the forest, meandering to the ocean. As they approached the area, Daril halted his troops. A boisterous noise ahead peaked his attention, so Daril ordered his troops to scatter and hide off to the side of the road. The trees ahead of them soon gave way to the large feet whose weight rumbled the ground.

  Erol gingerly stepped, as gingerly as ogres are capable of, out of the forest, rewarding Daril’s hopes. Erol did not hate trees and when possible, was careful not to knock them down. The second ogre’s arrival was of great surprise to Daril. It was obvious he had not the agility, or caring, Erol carried. He smashed through the branches, going out of his way to do so. Little survived Belgin’s wreckage. In fact, it brought him satisfaction. He was like a child stepping carelessly on ant hills.

  Gile scrambled out of the trees, filling in behind the ogres. Daril was ready to step out from his hiding position to meet his old friends when the beating of a thousand hooves filled the air. Centaurs beyond count emerged from the forest, quickly refiling their ranks on the open road. The two ogres and Gile appeared as just out for a walk, but the centaurs were in military movements with sharp, snapping turns. Daril had never seen centaurs before and could not believe they were with Erol. Their orderliness and attention to detail impressed him. Daril risked stepping forward, striding confidently toward the first centaur of the paved path, with Erol also just before him.

  Erol saw Daril before the centaurs did and ran to meet his friend. “Halt!” The centaur ordered his warriors ready, as only Erol’s obvious friendship stopped the centaurs from arming themselves.

  “Daril, what are you doing here?” Erol said as he knelt low before the soldier, happy to see the dwarf he knew so well.

  “We came to lend a hand to those affected by the eruption. We saw it from far off, in the highest chambers of the city. King Tegan sends his aid,” Daril said as one of the centaurs rode up.

  “Erol, your dwarf friends prove generous. What aid do you have, for we are in great need?” Cergon asked gruffly and directly. He did not intend to be rude, but regretfully was unable to avoid it.

  “We have food, medicine and drink,” Daril stated, trying to stay diplomatic. Despite his quick distrust of Cergon, he understood there could be many injured in the centaur ranks.

  “Who is ‘we’, or do you carry it all yourself?” Cergon asked, wanting to know if this was Tegan. He was not trying to but seemed to be mocking the dwarves.

  “Who are we?” Daril asked, liking the centaur less and less. He turned and whistled and at the sound, the dwarf warriors with him appeared on the road, lined up to march. Cergon took a step back, not expecting the numbers before him. Daril continued, “Who are you to ask? Did we not come to aid you? If our aid is not desired say so, and we will depart. Perhaps you do not need it?” Cergon did not appreciate Daril’s tone. He smirked at Daril, his thoughts turned to teaching the surly little dwarf a lesson.

  Belgin knew he needed to step in. “Please Cergon,” Belgin insisted as he raised his hand to calm his undiplomatic friend. Then to Erol and Daril, “Dwarf friend, my name is Belgin, father of Erol. This is Cergon, King of the centaurs, of the land of Sundaland.” Even as he said the name of their lost island, the words pained in the centaurs’ ears.

  “I am Daril and here to extend the generosity of Tegan, King of Tunder Bin,” Daril answered, not taking his eyes off Cergon. He paused, and the tension built before he finished, “That is, if it is desired.”

  Cergon knew he had been too forward and offended the dwarf, “Off course, you are correct. Please forgive me. Manners are not my strong suite. We have many in need and the march has further worn us.” Cergon knew that if Natalia were close, she would have pinched him by now.

  Daril did not answer, but nodded to the centaur, forgiving his directness. He looked to Belgin, “Pleased to meet you.” Then he turned and called his men from the back. They came forth quickly, with horses pulling the wagons of aid.

  “My apologies,” Cergon said again to Daril with a bow. Then to Erol, “May we stop for a moment to provide some medicine to my injured and food to the hung
ry?”

  “Of course,” Daril obliged. Erol was glad to sit and talk with Daril, who told him all the news of Milan. Daril’s soldiers went around to the centaurs, who, unlike Cergon, appreciatively accepted the help.

  Daril informed Erol of Tegan’s intentions of raiding the north to save Milan. He also had a question for Erol concerning Cergon. “Does anyone like him?”

  “You will, in time. As for the quest to save Milan, I will go too.” Erol blamed himself for not being there to stop Milan’s taking. He was eager to right the wrong.

  After the dwarves applied the medicine and handed out the food and drink, Erol led them on their swift march toward Tunder Bin. He was eager to be back, both to see his friends and to start the journey to save Milan. They traveled quickly, and by the end of the second day since meeting up with Daril, they were coming to the bridge before the city.

  The feelings of the travelers varied greatly. The dwarves also were happy to be back, which happened far sooner than expected. Belgin was interested to meet the dwarves Erol spent so much time with and to see the great city of Tunder Bin. The centaurs, however, were quite anxious for their uncertain future and hoped for a new home for their families.