This was obviously the wrong answer, for Maolmordha clapped her hands together, and dropped to one knee, chanting a phrase just too quietly for anybody to be able to hear. The courtyard became much more macabre as everybody dropped quiet, straining to hear the words, the only movement being Maolmordhas mouth and the trickle of slowly-congealing blood around the edges of cobbles. A stray cloud moved in front of the sun, and the shadowed courtyard became cold and dark. Coincidence or not, even Thrasher paled when this happened, for it was a bad omen. He watched O'Bellah, who was refusing to be drawn in by any trickery on the part of Maolmordha. He had no faith in what she was doing. That changed when his comprehension caught up with the situation. He began to twitch with worry as a sense of evil permeated the air around him. It concentrated on a spot only a few steps away from them, and the shadows stretched and lengthened as they coalesced into blackness. The feeling made O'Bellah look away, but Thrasher was fascinated by the imminent arrival of something he was now certain would bring him opportunities that had currently lacked. The shadows formed into a mass that was easily an arm spans worth higher than any man there. It pulsed, as if it were a living form, and Maolmordhas chants reached a crescendo. She yelled something incomprehensible, and the feeling of hopelessness magnified tenfold. Where the shadows had combined into inky blackness, there now stood a being of concentrated darkness. The Golem had grown in stature since Thrasher had last seen the creature. It had gained bulk, and its menacing nature was as silently deadly as ever, perhaps even more so. This creature had certainly feasted on something recently.
“Be sure that my master, the Lord of Raessa watches from through this creature's eyes.” Maolmordha warned. “Now would you like to repeat to my master what you said to me?”
This time O'Bellah quailed, looking at the ground, his sword trailing on the cobbles as he sought a way out of answering.
“Well?” Maolmordha pressed.
“They are not here,” O'Bellah said ambiguously, stalling for time as he tried to think his way out of the hole he had dug for himself.
The Golem had not moved since it appeared, but now it somehow loomed bigger in front of them all as something behind it's dark eyes balanced control with increasing anger.
“Why not?” Asked Molmordha. “Why have you managed to let a group of mere travellers escape from a fortified village, surrounded with guards?”
O'Bellah stammered, trying to spill out any words to relinquish himself of responsibility, but all that came were a strangled series of noises. The man was not ready to take the fall for his losses, but quite able to blame an underling. This time was different. The Golem was an ally, its evil nature a useful tool in converting the weak-willed. When the malevolence turned upon him, O'Bellah was reminded of how insignificant he really was. By pure coincidence, the commotion caused this to be one of the rare times Dondera issued forth from her house, the noise building up her ire to the point that she could no longer sit around eating. “What is all this commotion?” She demanded of her son, without so much as even noticing the creature, and the two dark figures before him.
“Your son is paying the price of failure.” Maolmordha replied, and the Golem reached out. Touching Dondera it began the process of drawing her into it, tapping into her soul and sucking away like the ticks farmers found on their cattle in summer. Thrasher watched with glee as the huge woman comprehended her fate, and screamed with the sure knowledge that she was definitely not going to a better place. He had seen this before, relished the suffering. Dondera began to pale, and eventually her form was as thin as mist. Her screaming reduced to a wail as her life force became as insubstantial as an eddy of wind in a storm. The Golem swelled as it absorbed another life into its matrix, and a funny thing happened. O'Bellah began to smile. More than that, he started to laugh, and soon was throwing his head back in a state of joy, the humour that fuelled it failing to provide comprehension for any other person in the courtyard. He dropped his sword with a clatter as he raised his hands to his face, pausing to wipe tears away from his eyes.
“Oh by the Gods that was a sight to behold!” O'Bellah crowed, and still he made no sense. He stopped laughing and looked around at them all, bringing his attention to bear on Maolmordha. “Was that supposed to cow me? Was that supposed to be some sort of punishment? That was the funniest thing I have seen in years! The look on her face as she became trapped by your spell, the sound of her voice in agony. That was sweet. That was sweet indeed!” O'Bellah indicated Thrasher with one hand. “My man here has the location of the escaped tinkers and the rest. We can go and get them whenever you like. There is nothing to bind me to this place any more, it was only duty to that fat old hag that based my operation from here in the first place.”
A rumbling began to issue from what could be construed as the mouth of the Golem, and since this was the first time it had ever made any noise, they all listened intently. “No. Leave them. No use to you. Gather your forces. This is too important to be done piecemeal.”
“Your will, master,” O'Bellah replied. “What of the party heading for Bay's Point?”
“You will accompany my creature and see to them. Do not fail me.” The consciousness behind the dark eyes of the Golem faded once more, to be replaced by the dull longing for life, focussed on O'Bellah. He no longer appeared scared of the creature; in fact he was smiling at it. “That means that we get to take a little trip.” O'Bellah grinned at Maolmordha, who was actually looking in surprise at the both of them. “What? You think that you are the only person with the power to summon the Golem? You may be his assassin, but you are no more important in the scheme of things than anybody else. Before you report back to your master by the long route, consider that there is an easier way to reach Raessa.” O'Bellah indicated the Golem.
Maolmordha shuddered at the very thought of touching it. Command it she could do easily, but actual contact could result in the will of the creature taking over, and it had become too powerful already. Maybe one day it would take the fat man like it took his mother, but that was of no consequence. She did what her master ordered, and the student was her charge to be taught and compelled, until she too was loyal in every way to the Master of the Mountain fortress. “We will go by the way prepared for us, but we will be taking one other.” She lifted a finger and pointed at Thrasher. “That one will join us.”
Thrasher was intrigued. “This promises to be so much more interesting than riding around spearing farmers.”
O'Bellah did not seem to like the idea of his best lieutenant being taken from him, but he shrugged off the notion of losing him. “So be it,” he replied. “If you do not want the tinkers then he is of no use to me. I will see them all dead before this is over, and I shall exalt as I deliver the torturous blessing our master decrees for the country folk.”
Thrasher opened his mouth to protest. How could loyalty be repaid so suddenly with a dismissal like that? He frowned, but then considered that the possibilities for revenge were endless, and all in all he had gotten the better out of the deal.
For her part, Maolmordha seemed to seethe, her pale eyes turning to ice, and her jaw sticking out as she considered what to do next. “Be careful with this pet,” She said, indicating the Golem, “it might turn around and bite you.”
“Scared, woman? I go to Bay's Point by a much quicker method than you are prepared to take. I will see you at my feet. Bring your mercenaries into the village, and send messengers to the other camps.” He ordered of the guard that had arrived with news of the cloaked ones. “We are going to give this magnificent beast something to gnaw on.”
The mercenary did his level best to look away from the Golem, such fear did it emanate. “Yes Milord.” He replied, scrambling towards his horse just as fast as his feet would take him. With a gesture, O'Bellah drew the Golem off with him towards the tower.
Maolmordha pointed at Thrasher. “We leave, now.”
“Whatever you say, lady,.” he replied, grinning at his new companions.
In response, Maolmordha took one step towards him, and lunged at him, palm up. The heel of her hand connected with his jaw, and he launched across the courtyard, coming to a rest in a stunned heap up against the wall of the inn. “You will address me only when questioned,” She said, still stood in the attacking stance she had taken to hit him, “anything else is your death.”
Thrasher trembled as he lurched to unsteady feet. Never had anybody done that to him. It had a profound effect. If a mere woman could generate that much force, then he was willing to learn what he could accomplish. The smug look on his former commanders face would have taunted him once, but now his eyes were open to a bigger truth. Killing a few farmers with spears was childish play. He would be a part of something more.
“Is that understood?” Maolmordha said once more as she relaxed into a stance indicating the ready threat of violence.
Thrasher stood to his full height, a feral gleam in his eyes. “Mistress, I am yours.”
Maolmordha nodded in the understanding that all was settled. “This is Maolnemrhyth. If she speaks, be aware she speaks with my voice.” Maolmordha indicated the slight figure at her side, which made no indication that it had not even heard the conversation, nor witnessed his humbling. They turned and ran. Compelled to do so, he followed.
Chapter Eleven
“They are moving out of the valley on horseback.”
“What are the chances of them being captured?”
“Not great. They dealt with whomever it was that was chasing them.”
“What about the village?”
“There are people alive there, still trapped in a structure of some sort. What it is I cannot see, and they are unfamiliar to me.”
A foot scuffed the ground in frustration. “If only there were a way that we could contact them.”
Raoul opened his eyes and looked down from his perch on a jutting rock to see Belyn frowning at the ground. “Of course there is a way. You almost got through to them once before, and thank all that is right and good that you tried. Whatever we saw was not friendly, and it passed right by them.”
Belyn looked up at him in consternation. “That much. It was no more than an impression. If we could get through with actual messages, maybe we could also pick them up.”
Raoul jumped down from the rock. His cloak flared out over the short drop forcing Keldron to step back. “That is your speciality, my friend. I can tell you about any facet of the Old Law, but I cannot make miracles come from rock as you can.”
He began the walk back down the short slope to where Malcolm, Joleen and Yerdu were waiting with the horses. “Rubbish. You two are catching up fast. That air cushion you created when Yerdu fell could well have saved her life. I would say that that was a timely miracle of your own, one you know that I am very thankful for.” Belyn referred to the one incident when they had accidentally stumbled onto a mercenary camp in the Ciaharrian wilderness. They had been chased for the better part of four days by the mercenary band, and it had only been when they had stumbled on a narrow pass through a valley that they had been able to do something. Keldron threw as strong an air barrier across the gap as he could muster, and then something else unexpected had happened. Belyn tried the focus that produced heat, using the volcanic stone he had once used before. Instead of a heat barrier, the focus produced a lance of fire that shot through the gap and into the faces of the oncoming mercenaries. A side effect of the focus was the bolting of Yerdu's horse. In the panic, she was thrown off, and it was only the fact that Raoul held his own focus stone that had saved the day. He had tried to replicate Keldron's effort for he could see behind the focus, and the barrier under her had formed. There was no way round the blockage, and the mercenaries had not even tried to break through the barrier, for they had seemingly been fried to a crisp.
“I will never be able to understand why that fire broke through the barrier leaving it intact.” Belyn murmured as they walked back, hopping down ledges of narrow rock.
“I will never be able to understand how you got a focus so wrong,” Raoul retorted. “Maybe the two have a connection?”
Belyn stopped in his tracks, and Keldron saw the wide-eyed stare into nothingness on his friend's face that showed he had just made a breakthrough. His eyes came back into focus, and he walked past Raoul, slapping him on the back. “You may just have a point there old friend, one that definitely bears thinking about.”
Aside from the incident with the mercenaries, this had been the most eventful day since they had parted with the tribesmen. True to their word the wizards had kept an eye on their allies through focussing, but until recently they had not even begun to think about anything more. It was Raoul himself that had come up with the idea of an attempt to modify the focus that allowed them to take food from a room that Belyn had paid somebody to keep stocked in Eskenberg. That, coupled with the new skill that they had acquired to be able to see the tribesmen through their very spirits, had afforded them a limited amount of success. They had had nearly two months' worth of peaceful riding, to everybody's surprise.
Reaching the horses, Raoul climbed into his saddle.
Everybody was looking at him but as usual it was Yerdu that pre-empted all of them. “Well?” She said, the word implying a total recounting of events.
“They are all safe, as are the people they have met and rescued,” he replied. “It looks like they have responded to the sending, but we cannot be sure as to what got through. It also looks like whomever they have met up with has decided to take the fight to the mercenaries. People died just now.”
Those four words were enough to bring a sombre mood over them all. It was clear that the fight had truly been taken to the enemy, a situation that they had both hoped for and dreaded.
“There is no turning back now then,” Keldron said as he looked ahead to distant Leallyra, not much more than an impression on the horizon from this distance. “They are committed to the preservation of the Old Law by untried means, and therefore so are we. I just hope that we can find a ship to sail us to Caighgard.”
“This place is reputed to be a big port,” said Belyn. “I don't think we will have a problem finding passage.”
Raoul barked out a laugh. “You just need to be more concerned that whatever this madness is that has suddenly gripped the world has not extended to the city. We are a long way from home my friends, and we have no idea what the feelings are to the Old Law and those that follow it in the cities. I can tell you this much. This is a Duchy capital and although the guilds are based here for the sole purpose of the population, you can still expect them to be informed of problems outside. What you cannot expect them to be is supportive of our efforts.”
Yerdu sighed. “Overcautious as ever Raoul? Maybe you should keep quiet when we enter the city. We don't want your sense of righteousness damaged by what you might see.”
Raoul grinned in response. It was just banter between the two of them, for they had all become like a gang of siblings after so long on the road together. Yerdu had claimed Belyn for her own a long time before, and the natural chemistry between Keldron and Joleen was at times frightening but it had spread to include them all. Only Malcolm was ever distant, and when asked he explained it was his way and that he missed his family. That did not deter them at all, and through persistence he also opened up to their joviality. The horses had become part of the 'family' too, each showing its own character when one was observant enough to watch. Despite the hardship suffered by them all in their private moments, for it was not an easy journey, they had all grown as a result, knowing there would always be five other people that they could always trust. What had heartened Keldron more was the fact that the tribe had made it even this far into the countryside. A great deal of them had left the forest all that time back, and when they had encountered them and told them of what was happening decisions had been made on the spot. Every tribal member felt an affinity for the land, and therefore the people that lived upon it. There was never any dissent when they decided t
o aid their brothers and sisters across the country. It may have been that there was not a problem in this particular part of the Duchy, but they were made aware and thus prepared against the day they might witness the cruelty that the wizards and their companions had witnessed.
They rode on as ever, slipping into their usual roles. Malcolm rode point, keeping an eye out for danger some hundred paces ahead of the rest. Then followed Belyn in his customary state of concentration, especially with the ideas Raoul had given him. Yerdu had long since given up on trying to bait Belyn during these periods. Instead she dropped back to wind up Raoul, but even he was not having it this time. “I am worried for all the people we have passed by.” He said when she pressed him. “They are nothing more than glowing spirits to me, but when I see them and what they are about, I cannot help but wish that I was there with them. If only there was a way to speak to them.” He would not give much more than one-word answers to her after that, and baiting suddenly became less important as the gravity of the situation descended over them all. Keldron and Joleen rode at the back of the little column, quietly enjoying the humorous banter in front.
“You two can come forward as well.” Yerdu motioned with her free arm.
“Not a chance. After what happened to us before, I am best placed to use my shield of air should we get ambushed. We need space. Belyn placed near the front, myself behind. After coming so close to injuring you, Yerdu, I want some open space around me.” He also needed time to think while he considered the various focus stones he had secreted about him. At night it was either a case of dipping into Belyn's stores back home or if they were lucky, Malcolm would hunt down game and cook it. The latter did not occur often, for the plains stretched all the way to the coast, and there was rarely enough cover for large game to graze in peace. They had passed several villages in the past couple of days, and if there were a problem the villagers did not show it. Still, Raoul had tried his best to warn them without alarm. It seemed as if they had taken the warning to heart.
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 34