The Three Charms

by Brian Spielbauer

  He wiped away the brush of the linguistic weapon and asserted to the Queen of the Harpies, “I take no joy in taking a man from his family. Only at great need would I ask any to do so,” Tegan replied, as Angelica turned from him. She had no interest in any of his explanations or justifications. Timo again took hold of Angelica.

  “I will come back, I promise,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. Angelica returned it, but not as a blessing of the journey. If anything, it was kiss goodbye. She was certain she would never see him again.

  Timo turned to depart with his cousins. Each heart tore at the sight of Angelica holding her unborn in her hands as Timo walked off past them. Tegan welcomed Timo even as he looked again at Angelica, her eyes burning through him. She prayed her Timo would return but knew it was out of her hands. She turned back to her home as the harpies who visited the army came back for more food and drink. Angelica would not allow them to go back.

  Telon looked to Timo as they walked back down the stairs and out of the village to the waiting army, “Tegan better be dead if you do not return. It would be a better fate than facing Angelica.”

  Angelica’s words pained Tegan, but he was determined not to allow them to leave his thoughts. He knew many of his men would pass but he had to make sure Timo and many others made it back. Angelica’s words wrought with spite, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t truth weaved within her angered curse.

  Timo attempted a smile, although his quivering lip did not allow for speech. He knew he needed to go, as Milan meant much to him also. The separation from Angelica would be difficult, his love for her so strong. They spent every day together since the battle at the Demon’s Chamber. Their home in the trees was where he most wanted to be. But he also meant what he said and needed to be able to look his wife and children in the eye and be proud of what he had done. If he stayed and not kept his word when his friends needed him the most, that would have been nearly impossible.

  The men that stayed behind outside the tree land realm were thankful for the stop, always happy to spend some time with the beautiful harpies. Tegan summoned the generals of all the troops of dwarves, men and centaurs. They were completely unaware of the strife that just occurred in the tree top village.

  “Where are the harpy warriors, will they come in the early morning?” Arlow asked, hopeful a legion would be joining them. It did not take long for him to see their strength, as many had shown off their skills of battle for the men.

  “They will not come, and we will not wait until morning to depart. It is best that we go now.” The tone of Tegan’s voice, plus the unmistakable scowl that held fast to his grim face, told them things did not go well.

  “Gentlemen,” Tegan continued, his tone full of irritation as he could read their tired faces. “We go to war. This is not some stroll through the woods picking berries! I leave it to each of you to get this message through to your soldiers. I do not care for the relaxed mood. Is this message clear?”

  The generals did not sense the mood Tegan spoke of but knew to agree with his sentiment. Bryon of the men answered first, “We will address it directly Lord Tegan. I can assure you the battles we will encounter will test us. I have faced the enemy on the land we are journeying to and know well their strength. The trip will be a hard test for many that are with us, but the forces of the enemy that await us will be far more daunting. But, I assure you, we will be prepared.”

  All were aware Herrog’s forces routed the men of Calonia from their land. If anything, his forces would have grown stronger in the years since.

  Cergon approached Tegan, “Lord, I assure you our men are ready, but know that I will relay your warning to them. Where to now? Are we going directly to Calonia, now that we have the Dwarf Wizard?”

  “No,” Tegan answered sharply, “we travel to the land of the gargoyles. I hope to find some help there, in warriors and in information. If we depart now we can arrive there by tomorrow evening. We will march through the night. Once we reach the next point of the journey, we will take a day’s rest. I am certain the enemy is marking our progress, so we cannot needlessly delay. Every moment we rest allows our foe another moment’s preparation.”

  “If we are being marked, shouldn’t just send word or have the gargoyles meet us toward the desert?” Cergon questioned. He did not enjoy these stops and considered all them needless. He could not see the importance of the dwarf wizard, especially now that the harpies would not aid them.

  “We go to land of the gargoyles. Then north.” Tegan growled again to Cergon, dismissing his questions entirely. He was growing weary of the centaur, who was not used to someone else making decisions. Cergon road off in frustration.

  Each of the generals had stern discussions with their men, informing them of what lay ahead. To drive his message home, Tegan marched his army hard through the night. Doing so allowed them to cover the distance to the gargoyle’s mountain by the following days early afternoon. The trip should have taken the entire day.

  Chapter 13: Riddles in the Dark

  The exhausted men were happy to stop when they reached the base of the mountain, barely taking time to set up their tents before turning in. The Mammut Berge, named as such long ago for the monsters that existed there, was their destination. Though the Tolltier and evil gargoyles were relieved from the land, its many nooks and crannies, along with the woods of knotted and gnarled bush like trees, still had an eerie air that not even the cleanest spring breeze could shake. The soldiers noticed it, which aided the briskness of their march due to their desire to be past it sooner than later. While the gargoyles were busy setting up their home on the west side of the mountains, the east side, formerly guarded by the Tolltier, still lay uninhabited from the last battle and eruption. Few dared to enter the still tangled and mangled mess of forest, and none would drink of the cruel stream that drooled from the cursed land.

  Tegan looked at the troops as the set their camp, quite proud of the effort. He only watched for a moment though, as he was too interested in other things to allow rest for himself.

  “Do you think the men understand our point?” Tegan asked Telon as his brother dismounted his tired cat.

  “Many of these men have never seen a battle, so they can’t imagine the urgency and focus required. The stop with the harpies tested their discipline. Had we not decided to leave sooner, I doubt many would have passed the test. If they didn’t get the message just sent, there is none they will get.” Telon answered as he looked out over the tents. He then turned to the mountain as the midday sun’s rays lit the peak. He had not been back since the eruption and the mere sight of it made him uneasy. The ill feeling started when he first viewed the mountain from a great distance early that morning as they approached.

  “It looks nothing like it did,” Telon uttered under his gasped breath as he stared to the mountain before him, fully engaging in it for the first time. On the long approach, he only risked glimpses of the monument to Herrog’s persuasive powers and the destruction derived from them. Telon felt like he was looking into the past. In his mind, just for a moment, the air filled with the harpies rescuing those fleeing the mountain after the last battle. While the top of it was gone, the massive lava flows that occurred following the eruption devastated the area below and around the mountain. It was difficult to recognize, as time and change took their inevitable control. Wicked visions of what transpired took all who were there that day. For some the thoughts carried proud feelings of heroism and victory over the evil forces, while for others only loss of a loved one. For most, the strange twisting of both rolled through their pained memories. In war, seldom is victory, or loss, so clean as to be completely untainted by the other. For all, their faces were beacons of the feelings erupting from within.

  “I would call it an improvement,” Tegan dryly answered, only handling small glimpses at a time of the mountain before him. He was not ready to acknowledge his own sinister vision of the past, fearing his men would see his own feelings bare to the world. He was mainly
referring to the wretched gargoyles who previously called the mountain home. The pain caused by Sain and his kind that day lived long and still affected him and his people that very day. Kyrie had been a strong ally for the last five years and undid many of the wrongs wrought by the vile former leader of the gargoyles. But, like a loosened arrow, some evils cannot be undone. “Let’s go find Kyrie and General Deron and see what they can tell us.”

  Months earlier, Tegan sent General Deron with a troop of men to aid Kyrie. He charged Deron with helping Kyrie as they searched the mountain, inside and out, for any evidence of where Milan might be. As they traversed the uneven ground before the opening of the mountain, they covered areas where grass and trees stood as if untouched for a few paces, only to then reach an area of bare rock without a single sign of the intrusive vegetation that inevitably sought to wither such pristine structures. Always these rock walks led in a somewhat straight line to the mountain, as if poured there by gargoyles for clean paths leading away from their new home.

  During the last eruption, the ground opened in many areas, filling with the pooled lava that turned to rock when it cooled, leaving the maze-like pattern of stone before the front gate. The area had not the sickened feeling of the land around it but was now serene and beautiful. Even the most terrible scars of that dreadfully violent day eventually blended into the area around the mountain. The healing of Kyrie’s ascendance slowly defeated the ages of the prior putrid presence. The cracks from the separated earth, filled now with stone of the hardened lava, added to the beauty. It was part of the entire scene as the trees, flowers, streams, and rock blended together. They created the tapestry that was the low hills supporting the magnificent mountain above.

  Telon had all these thoughts and more as he touched his own blemish, his own place where wickedness brewed the fissure that became part of his tapestry. The scar on his face from the fight when he was so young, not only did it wound the skin outside but his soul within. The mark was at once both unmistakable to those just meeting him and unnoticeable to those who had known him very long. At first a devastating injury, but eventually it was a vital part of who he was. Telon turned the scar into something that made him stronger, made him more real. He would not change it, for it made him the man many now adored, and the one Lizzy loved. Telon was proud of what he overcame, and he considered everything, everyone and every occurrence that had its fateful role in creating him, necessary. Many things he hated in their moment of occurrence, but in the end an event for which he was thankful.

  A band of dwarves joined Deron on his assignment and they started the mining process to re-open the mountain. Like many of the tasks of the dwarves, mining was a long, tedious process. Dwarves deluged themselves, delving into the details and detours with which such tasks presented. Most creatures would be appalled at the thought of the time and frustrating turns and setbacks such tasks were embedded with, tasks that could never truly be completed. The dwarves drew excitement from encountering the hurdles and methodically creating ways to circumvent them. The fact that it was quite possible only their son’s sons would see the very end made it more compelling. In the end, as far as mining was concerned, the dwarves were undeterred and undefeated.

  The gargoyles were assisting Deron and his men, not only learning the trade of mining, but embracing the patient process. The dwarves not only completely cleared the opening to the mountain of the hardened lava, but it was obvious they did much more as Tegan and Telon climbed the steps. The crew of tireless workers opened the entire front of the mountain. The back wall was finished, and they opened several passageways into the mountain. This is where the work left off, with only small holes etched into what would be large hallways. These holes allowed for the quicker investigation of the damage in those tunnels, those not completely filled with the flowing lava during the past eruption.

  Most of the gargoyles who lived by the mountain made their homes in the forest below or in the highest of the upper chambers, which the eruption, miraculously, left untouched. The gargoyles grew to love the wilderness from their time spent around the city of Tunder Bin. Many of these surviving gargoyles were kept prisoners in the deep dungeons far below during Sain’s reign, with their own scars of torture not ready to surrender to their innate desire to stay inside.

  Gargoyle sentinels stood at attention on the steps, nervously watching the army that arrived without fanfare at their doorsteps. While they had grown to trust the dwarves, that trust was never to the extent that occurred between the dwarves and Arlow’s men. The centaurs were an added quirk to the approach, with the unexpected throng of creatures on hooves putting them on notice.

  Kyrie felt the tension of his guards as he brushed passed them and their uneasiness, welcoming Tegan at the top of the stairs, “So you return.” The lord of the gargoyles bent low to accept Tegan’s hand toward the bottom of the steps.

  He was not alone, as just behind Kyrie, and remaining at the top of the stairs, stood a female gargoyle. So few were ever seen. Up close, she was unmistakably beautiful. Everything about her, including her spirit, was softer than that of the males. She stood a normal gargoyle’s height. Her straight dark hair flowed down past her thick shoulders. She wore a black leather dress that covered her strong body and she was obviously with child. If not for the distinct color difference, she could have been mistaken for harpy.

  “Friends, I must introduce my wife, the Queen, to you,” Kyrie said, and he went back up the steps. All eyes were on him and his Queen, some noticing her for the first time. “This is Kallay.”

  Kallay walked to the edge of the steps and welcomed those before her, “Thank you for coming and especially you King Tegan, for sending your men to aid us. They have been a vital part of our efforts and taught us much in your trades.”

  Tegan scaled the stairs and bowed before the Queen, “It is our honor. We are proud to call you friends.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, but I must go for now. It is egg laying season and we have much work to do,” Kallay explained and a guard quickly took her arm and led her away.

  Tegan looked to Kyrie, not quite understanding Kallay’s words.

  “As she said, it is egg laying season. Only the Queen lays eggs. She can produce one a day. For us to recover, we will need to produce thousands of eggs over the next few years. It takes all off her focus and energy. Our nation revolves around her, keeping her safe and nourished,” Kyrie explained.

  “Where do you keep the eggs?” Tegan asked, before carefully considering the weight of the question.

  Kyrie stiffened, “That is not information we give out, not even for dear friends. The eggs are worth more than gold.” Tegan understood, especially given the dwarves history of trying to wipe them out.

  “I guess that explains your guards’ intentness. Are they concerned we are coming for the eggs? Have we not earned at least a little trust?” Telon asked in a sour tone. They hoped for a kinder welcome, but now feared their sacrifice for the gargoyles all but forgotten.

  “Things are not as safe here on the end of the dwarf lands as around your fair city. We must always keep a more diligent watch. We have had several creatures watching us as of late, so our guards are more untrusting than usual. It has nothing to do with the eggs,” Kyrie answered. His explanation sufficed for the moment, curbing the building tension as the focus turned to the creatures he discussed.

  Kyrie knew of Tegan’s plans and hoped for their success. His own vengeful thoughts not completely fulfilled, though he was again king of his people and their land. The stain on all he loved still affected every moment of their existence. Each new day offered the opportunity for his people and land to take another step in the right direction, opportunities of which they almost always afforded themselves.

  The blast ruined their land, destroyed most of the inner city, and the soul of his people was a mere shadow of the vibrancy he desired. Time aided the healing of all these areas. That and the payment in full to the one who was the puppeteer of the damage of
those dreadful years of Herrog’s occupancy, would bring his people and their land all the way back to health.

  “I believe the same creatures have been watching us also, but we pay them little heed,” Tegan exchanged boastfully. “We have greatly improved safety and travel between our cities. In time, we will extend that to your abode and beyond. Please, what can you tell me of the creatures have you seen?”

  “They seem to be like the Tolltier, but they have wings. We have not had a fight with them, not yet anyway. They watch us intently. I am also certain they have watched you since you left Tunder Bin. Trolls too are multiplying, as have other beasts who would be happy to see us defeated. They flock to Herrog’s call, which is hard to resist.” Kyrie was weary of the watchers, still not having the number of warriors he needed to defend his homeland and people.

  “Flying Tolltier? That is not good, not good at all,” Telon said, speaking for many of them. Kyrie’s description confirming their suspicions.

  Kyrie looked out on the army before the mountain, specifically noticing the centaurs. He held no fear of the hooved warriors, but rather was impressed with Tegan’s insight to add them to the growing military mass, “Tegan, you have reached far to include the centaurs in your army.”

  “Their land was taken back by the ocean, but we believe Herrog had a hand in that also. Herrog approached their Lord, Cergon, to form an alliance. After he denied Herrog’s offer, the wizard shattered their island and it fell into the depths. Only due to the efforts of Erol and Belgin were many of them saved.”

  “Belgin?” Kyrie asked, familiar with the name. Before Tegan could answer, the two ogres rumbled to the opening with Gile just behind. Kyrie smiled, seeing his old friend Erol. Quelna of old had spoken of Belgin. Kyrie was happy to add the mighty ogre to their numbers.