A Rage in the Heavens (The Paladin Trilogy Book 1)

by James A. Hillebrecht

  “A man speaks the truth as he sees it, and they call him heretic,” he mused aloud. “Another man mouths their senseless oaths, and they call him pious. When my time is done, I’ll stand and answer for my actions, and neither the words of priest nor man will make any difference then. If heretic is your word for such a view, then I’ll bear it gladly. Now eat the venison before it grows cold.”

  Darius began preparing his bedroll, paying no more attention to the young man. But as he started to drift off to sleep, he noticed that Joshua was only beginning to gnaw thoughtfully on the meat in his hand.

  * * * * *

  “Has the forest scrambled your wits?” demanded Jhan. “We can’t go down there!”

  “Of course we can,” Shannon countered. “This is our one chance to really gain on Andros and catch up with my father.”

  Jhan looked down the jagged side of the cliff, scattered plants and bushes clinging tenuously to the sides which suggested loose dirt rather than solid stone, and many of the rocks were coated with a spongy-looking moss that promised to slide like mud beneath the first foot. He shook his head.

  “I see now why they call them the Green Cliffs,” he said. “But we won’t gain at all on your father if one of us tumbles and breaks their head.”

  “No one’s going to break their head if we’re careful,” she answered. “Andros will have to take the long way along the Forest Road down to the Southlands. We can reach them simply by climbing down over a few rocks.”

  “A few rocks,” snorted Jhan. It was hard for forest folk to measure such a height, but he knew it would be certain death to fall from even a fraction of that distance. As he peered down, he felt just the slightest bit queasy and quickly stepped back from the edge.

  “That drop must be the equal of a hundred tall trees standing upon each other,” he stated.

  “No more than half that.”

  “But falling out of a single tree can still kill you,” he argued.

  “I was always prepared to climb down the cliffs myself without a rope,” Shannon told him. “Now with you here and the rope from the Peddler, we should have no problem.”

  “No problem,” he snorted again. “The way a corpse has no problems.”

  “Then walk around if you’re that afraid,” Shannon snapped. “We both knew there were going to be dangers along the way. This is just one of them.”

  “Alright,” he replied. “Alright. But if I’m the one killed, I’d just like to say in advance, ‘I warned you fair!’”

  Shannon had to smile. The encounter with the Peddler was two days behind them, the rain had vanished completely, and they were in better shape and better humor than they had been since starting out. Despite Jhan’s complaints, they had both been immensely heartened when they had emerged from the endless trees to look out over the great rolling quilt of the Southlands, clear proof they had finally arrived on the edge of their precious map.

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Now let’s get started.”

  Jhan sighed and produced the rope, tying the one end into a loop to make a rough seat. They then peered down over the cliff, trying to judge the best spot.

  “There,” said Shannon, pointing to a place to the right. “The bushes and trees are much less of a problem. Looks like there’s even a couple of ridges further down.”

  “Almost looks like others have used it,” agreed Jhan. “Still, I’m going first.”

  “It’s my idea. I’m going first.”

  “Don’t argue. The rope is barely the length of a pair of trees, so we’ll have to take a dozen turns to reach the bottom. If you’re above me and you slip, I might be strong enough to hold the rope. But if I’m above and slip, I’m bound to pull both of us off the cliff.”

  Shannon grimaced a little, but it was hard to argue with his reasoning. She accepted the one end of the rope and wrapped it a half-turn around a solid outcrop of rock, holding hard and bracing with her feet. Even with such precautions, she was hard put to hold on as Jhan began to work his way down the slippery cliff. She took a heavy breath, closed her eyes, and in her mind, she quietly sang a verse of the Great Song of Mirna, drawing strength from it just as her Father had taught her. Before she began a second verse, Jhan called out to her from below.

  “I’ve got good footing here,” he said. “Tie the rope round yourself well and take real care. The moss is very treacherous.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, tying her end into a similar loop. She slipped it over her head and under her arms, making sure it was snug. Then she cautiously began the climb down to where Jhan waited.

  Disaster struck in the very first minute. Despite the warnings and her precautions, her foot came down on a wide mossy stretch of rock and immediately slipped, her entire body lurching sideways. She grabbed for a hand hold, but the stone broke beneath her fingers, and with a wild scream, she fell.

  “Shannon!” Jhan yelled.

  She kept enough sense to grab the loose rope, and she pushed her feet downwards, trying to catch solid stone. Everything she touched seemed to break away, causing a small avalanche, but it also mercifully slowed her fall. She plunged past Jhan and had a fleeting picture of him bracing his feet despite the rain of stones, readying to resist the jerk when she reached the end of the rope. She caught sight of a small ridge just off to the side, and she managed to propel herself just enough to move towards it. The rope pulled taut just as the balls of her feet hit the ridge, jerking most of the breath from her lungs, but the combination brought her to a halt.

  She was terrified, however, to see that the ridge was actually the lip of a cave, and inside, she could see the flickering light of a fire and the dark figure of some kind of creature. The thing jerked to look at her with large eyes.

  “Aaaarrrh!!!” the thing roared, rushing at her on two legs.

  Shannon’s throwing hand was gripping the rope, making her daggers inaccessible even if she had had all her breath. Frantically, she put her foot against the side of the cave and shoved hard, pushing herself away even though she knew the rope would simply swing her back a moment later. She grabbed the rope with her left hand and reached desperately for a dagger, even though she knew with sickening certainty that it was her back that would be presented to the monster. The rope swung her right into the mouth of the cave, and an instant later, steel fingers locked on her arms, and she felt herself being lifted off the rope by a terrible strength.

  “Shannon!” Jhan cried again from above.

  “What’s this, what’s this?” grumbled a thick, deep voice right in her ear, and she felt herself being slowly turned around to confront her captor. She blinked as she stared into a barbaric face with wild hair, an unkempt beard, bushy eyebrows, and a tremendous nose, all the features larger and more prominent than a human’s, almost like a caricature of a man. The body, too, was heavily haired, though far from the animal pelt she had first thought, and the creature wore a large loincloth of tanned leather. But it was the eyes rather than the powerful hands which now held her, dark gray eyes flecked with gold that stared at her with a steady, curious intensity.

  “What’s this?” the creature repeated in the language of the Southlands. “A little human girl? Dangling from a rope before my cave? What’s all this about?”

  The words and the tone assured her of the creature’s intelligence, but it was the gentle scrutiny of the eyes that truly laid her fears to rest. Then she noticed how short the creature stood and how short were the arms which held her. He’s a dwarf, she suddenly realized.

  “Shannon!” came a cry from the cliff outside, and both she and the dwarf spun to see Jhan half falling into the entrance of the cave, his clothes covered with green moss. He must have abandoned all caution and slid down over the rocks when he saw her disappear into the cave, risking his life to reach her.

  The dwarf set her aside and grabbed a heavy battle-axe from the ground beside him, and Jhan scrambled to try to get to his feet, fumbling for the hilts of the Widow which he wore at his side.


  “Wait!” said Shannon, putting a gentle hand on the shoulder of the dwarf just in time to restrain another wild charge. “This is my friend. Jhan, take your hand off that sword!”

  The young man blinked, unsure, but while he kept his hand on the hilts, her cry was enough to stop him from drawing the weapon. The dwarf, too, held back, but he kept both hands on the haft of the axe, his smoldering eyes never leaving this new intruder.

  “We’re very sorry to have invaded your home like this,” she said quietly. “I’m afraid we were just trying to get down the cliff and slipped on the mossy rocks. We certainly mean you no harm.”

  The dwarf considered this for a moment, his fierce frown easing slightly, and then with a small snort, he moved back into the cave, keeping one shoulder pointed at these unwanted visitors. Shannon took her first easy breath since beginning the descent. She had never met a dwarf before, and it was a relief to find that he was capable of something other than ferocity. Jhan took advantage of the pause to come over to her side.

  The interior of the cave was lit by a bright fire with a large cauldron suspended directly above it by an iron chain, and off to one side was a large mound of black coal. There was a rough table with a single stool, a cot made of branches and hides, and a few small chests carved directly out of wooden logs. The nicest items in the cave were a heavy steel anvil standing right beside the fire, and a huge grinding wheel off to one side.

  Suddenly, she noticed other eyes staring at them from the back of the cave, wide brown eyes, very similar to the dwarf’s. She looked closer, and while it was hard to be sure, she thought she could see the outline of faces, two faces, three, no, four. Four faces. Of smaller dwarves. Of younger dwarves.

  “Are you alright?” Jhan whispered in her ear.

  “Just some scrapes and bruises from the fall,” she said absently, her eyes still studying the faces hiding in the niches of the rocks.

  The crude furnishings in the cave told some of the story, and the dwarf’s mutterings and grumblings suggested an exile from the Dwarf Holds of the north, a refugee fleeing here long years ago by preference or necessity to live his life out away from others of his kind. But where, then, had these little ones come from? The dwarf was still holding his war-axe, half-swinging it from side to side, and Shannon suddenly realized there was some special agitation working on him at the moment, something more than just this sudden intrusion by two young humans.

  The dwarf went to the huge grinding stone and began pumping the wheel with his feet, riding the edge of his axe over the surface to make the sparks fly.

  “Is there something wrong?” Shannon asked carefully. “Is there something worrying you?”

  “Rock Goblins comin’,” the dwarf rumbled, his thick hands rubbing the haft of the battle-axe in anticipation. “Feel it in the stone, in the bones o’ the earth. Rock Goblins comin’ like lava from the cone, killin’ all before them.”

  Shannon glanced at Jhan who shrugged uneasily. He looked back at the opening of the cave, clearly wishing to be out of here. She ignored both him and the sunshine and turned back to the dwarf.

  “What are Rock Goblins?” she asked.

  He turned fierce eyes on her, and for the moment, both youngsters tensed, readying for an attack.

  “Rock Goblins?” the dwarf growled. “Why, they be the curse o’ the caves, the bane o’ the earth. Back when the earth was coolin’ down from the heat o’ its birth, a massive bubble o’ foul ores and black gases floated to the surface and burst open, settin’ the Rock Goblins loose on the poor Children o’ the Crust. They spawn like cave-flies and eat everything that lives, and the only thing that keeps them in check is their hatred for each other. That, and the axes o’ the Children o’ the Crust.” He spun the grinding wheel hard, setting the blade of the battle-axe to it and making the sparks fly again.

  “And these creatures are coming towards the Southlands?” Shannon asked cautiously.

  “Aye, an army and more,” the dwarf rumbled, studying the edge of the axe. “I can almost feel the flap o’ their foul paws gettin’ closer with every minute. Fire and Darkness, they be comin’ hard!”

  He leaped to his feet with alarming speed and swung the axe around with a ferocious power, as if trying to hew off the heads of a dozen foes with a single swing. Jhan took an involuntary step back, but Shannon was far too distracted to feel fear. The invasion, the army from the north, barbarians, black wizards, and now a horde of these Rock Goblins, all bearing down upon the Southlands. Her eyes narrowed as she began to glimpse the magnitude of the danger into which she was leading them.

  “They fire the forests and chew through stone, killin’ all they catch,” the dwarf snarled. “Drivin’, drivin’ all before them, drivin’ til they press them against the Southern Ocean. Then they’ll turn the sands red and the waters crimson with the slaughter!”

  Shannon swallowed, the horror of the image conjured by the words making her stomach wrench. They were stumbling into a real war, not just some political struggle over a city or a province, but a battle of annihilation. Once again, she had a sudden, stirring sense that she, too, had some part to play in that confrontation.

  “We have to go,” she said abruptly. Jhan nodded in instant agreement and began heading for the entrance, but Shannon lingered for a moment, studying the stout little warrior before her.

  “Do you wish to come with us?” she asked, and the dwarf stopped flinging the axe and blinked at her. “I’m not sure where the fates will take us, but I feel sure that we will come against this enemy at some time. You are welcome, as well as…any you would like to bring along.”

  She pointedly did not look at the faces peering from the crevices in the caves back.

  “Shannon…!” Jhan said softly.

  The dwarf frowned, puzzling over her words. “Go with you? Leave my cave? Leave the Green Cliffs?”

  “If these rock goblins are coming as you fear, it may not be safe here,” she said gently. “With us, you would be moving amongst folk again. Perhaps amongst friends.”

  He stared at her, and for the first time, the tiniest hint of a smile came to his lips. But then he shook his head. “Amongst folk? No. No, that would make my head spin. And leave the Cliffs? Go out on the flat lands? Fire and Darkness, I’d be diggin’ myself a hole the first day and coverin’ it up behind me. No. No, I’ll wait and do my cleavin’ here.”

  Shannon frowned, but she knew immediately there was no point in arguing. The dwarf would clearly be out of his element away from his beloved cliffs, and trying to take his family with him…no. No, it simply wouldn’t do.

  “Very well. But do you think you might be able to help us make our way down the rest of the cliff? It’s proving to be more of a challenge than we thought.”

  The dwarf’s face brightened immediately. “Help you down the cliff! Why nothin’ easier! Come, come!”

  He waddled his way back to the entrance and walked into a small niche just off to the side of the passage. He returned a moment later carrying a rough basket made of strips of hide attached to a long thick rope.

  “You first,” he said to Jhan, and before the boy could protest, he found himself being helped roughly into the basket, his legs dangling through the strips, letting him sit and hold the rope.

  “Good trip,” the dwarf said and pushed Jhan over the edge.

  Shannon gasped and Jhan cried out, but the basket fell only a short distance, the rope in the dwarf’s hands jerking it to a halt. Then, looking over the side and whistling a strange tune, the dwarf began to let out the rope at a surprising speed, his hoary hands apparently immune to the friction of the rushing fibers. In only a few minutes, the rope stopped and Shannon looked cautiously over the edge to see Jhan waving from far below.

  As the dwarf was drawing the rope back up again, Shannon noticed an odd arrangement of rocks in a small cove right beside the entrance. They were even sized rocks stacked in three equal pyramids, and a hole had been punched in the adjoining wall to allow a
ray of sunlight to fall upon them. A memorial of some kind, she thought; and then, with a flash of insight, she realized it was a grave. She suddenly understood that it was more than his fear of the outer world or concern for his children that was keeping the dwarf here.

  She said nothing, knowing any words would be an intrusion, and she turned and stepped resolutely into the basket. But the dwarf paused for a moment before beginning to lower her. It seemed as if he wished to speak, to say something, and yet shyness or long isolation was stealing his voice. With sudden understanding, she realized he had seen few faces and heard even fewer kind words since the death of his mate.

  “Fare you well, little human girl,” he said finally. “Fare you well.”

  She felt a sudden rush of compassion for this lonely, isolated creature, raising his children amongst the rocks, the grave of his mate both solace and endless ache. She reached out and gently squeezed his rough arm.

  “Goodbye, my friend,” she said with a smile. “Know there are people outside this cave who share your concerns. And will carry your words to others.”

  He squirmed a little awkwardly, unaccustomed to such words and such feelings, but he smiled at her none the less. Then, with more care than he had shown Jhan, he lowered her over the side and began the descent.

  Shannon found herself plunging down the cliff’s face at an exhilarating speed, the green moss now acting as a cushion from the rocks, and only a few times did she have to push out from the cliff to avoid brushing against a thorn tree or bramble bush. She came to the ground what seemed all too quickly, and she hit the earth no harder than if she had jumped down from a single step. Jhan was there to help her up, and the moment she was clear, the basket went flying back upwards, vanishing into the crevices and shadows of the cliff in only a few minutes.

  “Sweet Mirna’s teeth and jowls,” swore Jhan softly. “That was a close one.”

  Shannon shook her head looking back up the cliff to where the basket had vanished. She even fancied she could make out the face of the dwarf peering down at them, though at that distance, there was no way to be sure.