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The Order of the Trident (Eldarlands Book 1)

Page 21

by Samuel Rikard


  The man who'd healed him, went to work unstrapping the leather bindings, while the man on the left pulled a change of clothing from a brown, linen sack.

  Released from the straps, Kashus sat up with assistance from his saviors. His eyes had trouble adjusting to their features, having been in the dim light for so long. He swung his legs off the slab, knocking the buckets of unnatural freezing water to the floor. A light amount of steam floated into the warmer cavern air. He felt his heart jump, seeing their faces clear into his vision. The Dreuslayers stood before him, ready to lead him to salvation. “I thank you for your willingness to retrieve me. Many would not dare enter this forsaken place.”

  Gareth looked the battered man up and down. He was lucky to still be alive. “Thanks would be better offered in coin when we make it out of here.”

  Ravion helped him to his feet while Kane helped him pull the tattered clothing in place. His bluing skin was cold to the touch and needed to be gradually warmed to prevent shock.

  Taking his first step, he nearly stumbled. He’d lost track of how long it’d been since he last stood. He quickly secured the rags around him, tucking the tension bands out of the way. They were by no means the clothing of nobility that he was use to, but they would offer a little protection in the cool cavern air. He stepped over the fallen commander, feeling comfort in his death. “Get me out of here.”

  The Dreuslayers escorted him from the small room and into the corridor. Passing from the room, darkness overtook him. He couldn't see so much as a shadow in the pitch black. “I can't see anything.”

  Ravion's calm voice echoed out, reassuring him. “Worry not. We can see just fine. We'll guide you.”

  He felt one of the men grab hold of his shirt, directing him through the tunnels. He had no idea how far they'd traveled. The absence of light made it feel eternal and brief at the same time. He could feel the walls enclose around him, narrowing into a single passage. The packed clay and rock felt to incline slightly and he felt the lingering warmth of the stone ceiling nor far above him.

  The battle continued to echo all around. He didn't know how far away they were, or even in they were going in the right direction. But these men had made a name for themselves. Perhaps they could see him to his family. Trusting in his rescuers, he moved when instructed and slowed when required.

  They moved forward several paces, stopping long enough to fend off the unseen attackers, and continued again.

  How they knew where they were going in the underworld of the catacombs, he couldn't answer. The fact they had the ability to see in the underdark was a mystery in of itself, but it served him. That was reason enough to keep quiet. He recalled the rumors of their formation. They were supposedly the only known beings other than the dreualfar to successfully navigated the unnaturally dark passageways. Kashus followed, unable to fall behind or move ahead. After what felt like hours, he could see a faint glow straight ahead.

  They led him into the sunlight, growing with each step. He felt it greet his face, leaving the catacombs behind him. The bright light was uncomfortable, but it was better than what he'd grown accustomed to.

  His eyes adjusting, he looked around, knowing he was somewhere on south of the Krondar border. The coloring of the stone and dirt told him that much. It was much dryer than back home. He was use to the brown soil, usually covered in a light layer of rain or snow. This soil was more of a red powder. A land just as harsh as its occupants. It took several minutes for his eyes to fully adjust to the light. They stood in a secluded grove, the cavern entrance behind them, and large stones surrounding in all directions. A familiar voice reached his ears, burning a long forgotten comfort into him.

  He turned to see his wife and children appear between two of the large boulders. They gracefully walked along the trail, breaking into a quick jog at his sight. His two sons, one twelve and the other seven, broke free of their mother's grip and charged, wrapping themselves around his waist. His wife smiled her precious smile, carrying their infant daughter in her arms.

  He caught his sons, hugging them tight. Picking them up, he carried them a few steps closer to his wife. They were too heavy for his weakened form to carry for long. Reaching her, he opened his arms, pulling his family close.

  “Kashus, I was afraid I’d never see you again.” his wife mourned in his arms. “Where’d you hide the stone? That’s what they’re after. We have to make sure they don’t find it!”

  He felt the tears rolling down his face. “It’s safe, my dear. I haven’t told them anything. I thought for sure the Dreu had killed you when they took the keep. I'm relieved to see you and our children are safe.” He held them for several minutes, afraid to let go.

  Gareth approached, clearing his throat to gain their attention. “Our arrangement is complete. Although we’ve learned what they’re after. We need to get out of here and move the stone. I can’t risk it falling into their hands.”

  “Yes, yes. I switched it with the jewel of Shadgull months ago. No one knows it’s there.”

  “Good. We’ll take care of it. For now, we need to get out of here. My men will keep your family safe. I suggest you take them to Marbayne so we can-- ” His words were cut short with the army of dreualfar swarming from the gap in the mountainside. “What the hell?” Gareth stared in confusion. “How are they in the daylight?”

  The dreualfar continued to swarm from the hole in the rock formation.

  Kashus watched both Ravion and Kane fall to the mass of dark-skinned alfar.

  Gareth charged into battle. He screamed his failure, several crude scimitars stabbing into him, silencing his objections. The ever growing horde of dreualfar cheered their victory over the Dreuslayer.

  Kashus looked around, his family was several feet away from him. He rushed toward them, seeing their distance grow with each step. The dreualfar surrounded them, hacking his sons to pieces. When they had finished all that was left was a pile of bloody gore on the stone and dirt covered ground. His daughter was ripped from her mother's arms. One of the dark creatures began chanting over the infant girl.

  Her features began to change. Her skin became dark, matching that of the dreualfar. Her ears elongated to a point and her short brown hair turned long and white.

  Horrified, Kashus watched the vile beast change his baby girl into one of them.

  His wife was forced to the ground, her clothes ripped away, revealing her naked breast. Several of the dreualfar restrained her while the others took turns ravaging her body. Having their fill, they beat her to a bloody pulp, leaving her violated and dying.

  The Highlord tried to look away, but his body wouldn’t obey. He tried to get to her and fight him off, but he couldn't move. He was trapped, watching his family's destruction. He screamed his failure. He couldn't save them. He couldn't slow them. He couldn't move. I'm a coward. I can't help them. I'm a broken man with little more than title. A man unworthy of being called Lord. Frozen in fear, he watched his family suffer his blight.

  One of the dreualfar grabbed his dying wife by her long brown hair. He pulling her nearly limp form up to expose her throat. Taking a rusty dagger, the dreualfar stabbed through the side of her neck, ripping the blade forward. Her lifeless body hit the dirt, ripping what was left of her neck with the impact. Her head rolled from her, coming to a stop in front of Kashus. An expression of disappointment stared deep into his eyes.

  He tried to fight, tried to yell, tried to move but found all impossible. He couldn’t do anything other than stand there and watch, unable to process what was happening.

  Nezial made his way from the dark cavern, his wicked smile burning through the daylight. He walked over, picking up the once-human baby girl. Continuing toward the Highlord, he played with the child as if he had some dark sinister purpose for her.

  His voice echoed deep into Kashus's head, a voice mixed with power, malice, and humor, “You thought you could escape me. You should know there’s no escape for you.” He playfully bopped the infant on the nose, withdrawing
an innocent smile from the corrupted baby.

  Kashus screamed, he couldn't help himself. He tried to move, even to comfort himself but was unable to do so. Looking deep into the mirror stationed above him, he was strapped to the stone slab. He could think of nothing but his family being slaughtered. His daughter being taken by these evil creatures to be raised as one of their own.

  The commander stood over the tormented man. His body was broken and now his mind was as well. A smile came to his face with the location of the stone revealed.

  He laid there screaming, the illusion of time eluding him. He couldn’t tell how long he'd been here, he didn’t even know where here was anymore. The visions that were forced upon him had taken all sense of placement. He wasn’t sure of anything. He retreated into himself, reliving his failure again and again. He didn’t know where he was. He didn't know what was and wasn’t real. He wasn't even sure if he was himself, the reflection in the mirror looked like him, but it was so twisted and mangled he could have been mistaken for anyone. All thought abandoned and flooded him, entangling his mind. He was lost, broken, broken in his soul, broken in his mind. All hope was gone. It all changed so much, so often, he couldn’t decide if anything was real.

  Several days later, Nezial stood in silence, watching his soldiers position the large wooden wedge next to the stone slab, where the man softly whispered to himself.

  The wedge was simply a section of tree trunk that had been cut at an angle and flattened to stand on end. It stood just over three feet tall, angled downward with the dull tip pointed straight up. The wood was stained with blood and other fluids from years past.

  Nezial had never seen it used before. The council, before his rise, reserved its use for traitors and general threats to their power. I wonder, had I not acted when I did, it's possible I may have faced this tool myself. I certainly proved myself a threat to their rule. Truth was, he'd grown tired of playing with the broken Highlord. The man was of no use to him any longer. He nodded to his soldiers, agreeing with their placement of the large device. Unstrapping the broken Highlord, he removed him from the stone slab. The man was limp, unable to fight even if he wanted to. His muscles were destroyed, leaving him at the mercy of his host. Of no use to himself, Nezail stood him up and held him for the guards.

  The soldiers approached either side, grabbing the weak human. Easily, they lifted him, placing him atop the wedge, dangling one leg down each side.

  Nezial tied a small rock to each leg, not meant to pull, but to apply a constant pressure. There's no threat of him going anywhere. He doesn't have the willpower to climb off. He turned to his men, waving them out the door. “Keep watch. I want to know when he's close to the end.” Nezial marched past them, disappearing into the dark corridor.

  Kashus stared into nothing. His mind danced with memories of life. Visions of the past, present, and future, none of which were true, but he didn't know any different. He wiggled, searching for a comfort that wouldn't come. Slumped down, his once ridged spine may as well of been a cooked noodle. Lost in nothing and everything at once, he sat there, unaware of what was happening the him.

  Over the course of three days, gravity pulled him down, slowly splitting him in half. The first day his hips began to separate, splitting him slightly. Blood and fecal matter rolled down the sides from his destroyed colon. The second day reached his stomach, allowing his bowels to drape down the sides, undamaged, but loose.

  He moaned incoherently, lost in pain, but unable to do anything about it. Even if his mind were intact, he didn't have the strength to move. The one thing he did know in his broken state, he would die soon.

  The third day, Nezial sat in his study, reading the contents of his glimmering, black book. The secrets it held were his and his alone. No one would dare read from it, not that they could anyway. He was chosen.

  A knock at the door roused him.

  “Enter!”

  The door creaked open, revealing one of his watchmen. “Commander, it's time.”

  He tossed the book aside and jumped from his chair. He didn't want to miss the final moments. Rushing toward the torture room, he rounded the corner and stepped inside.

  The guard took his post outside the door.

  Nezial looked upon the man, amazed by the damage the simple device was capable of.

  The Highlord was draped down both sides, his body nearly in two pieces. He continued looking around, tears of pain in his eyes. His innards hung from him, simply fallen out of his body. There was a fair amount of blood and other bodily fluids, but clearly not enough had escaped to kill the man. Though his time was extremely limited.

  Nezial watched in earnest. He heard the resounding pop of the Highlord's collar bone collapse under the pressure. The final breath escaped his toy, lying in two piles on each side of the wedge. His wicked smile breached his lips. “At last the Highlord is dead.” The dreualfar commander turned and left the chamber, satisfaction radiating from him. Stopping right outside the door, he addressed the two guards. “Clean up this mess and prepare for our next guest. The Lord of Shadgull deserves our finest hospitality.”

  Chapter XVII

  Dreuslayers

  Thick patches of moss clung to the ancient walls of the underdark, catacombs. Most of the low hanging stalactites had been broken off, leaving a jagged ceiling just above head level. The floor was solid, the dense clay and rock worn down from centuries of travel.

  Gareth and Ravion made their way through the dark corridors, listening to the echo off the seemingly, natural walls.

  Ravion led the way, his light steps were unheard compared to the clanking of metal from Gareth. The thin dalari scout wore his usual dark blue clothing with tan leather vest. He carefully made his way forward, searching for any presence in the unnaturally dark passage.

  Gareth continued on, not caring if the vile creatures heard him. In fact, he hoped they did. It'd give him an excuse to kill the vermin. His large shield was slung on his back with a heavy mace hanging at his side. This twin cutlasses were sheathed on each hip waiting to be drawn.

  Ravion stopped, throwing his fist into the air. Reaching across his body, he grabbed his longsword and prepared for battle.

  Gareth rolled his shoulder, flinging his shield around so he could lock his arm into the straps. Grabbing his mace, he readied himself.

  Several careless footsteps echoed down the dank tunnel, carrying the stench of feces and body odor. Unintelligible chatter bounced back and forth, announcing their numbers. It was clear they didn't know about the trespassers.

  Ravion stepped to the side, wedging his back into a crevice. Knowing his companion, he'd gladly play the bait. That would give him the perfect chance to ambush the creatures when they charged.

  Two dreualfar walked casually down the passageway, carrying on their conversation. One ran his fingers along the rough wall, listening to the other talk. They rounded the bend, freezing at the sight of the broad warrior. The human was stocky built and of average height. He wore tattered armor and held a large mace toward them. A spiteful grim glared them down, taunting them into action.

  "Come get some, you black-skinned bastards!" Gareth dared, slamming his mace against the shield. It rang out, echoing off in the distance. It was possible the noise would summon more. He hoped for it. That meant more to kill. Knowing he had some time before he'd pass Ravion, lying in wait, he charged forward, daring the creatures to do likewise.

  They drew their crude scimitars and hesitantly charged the large warrior.

  Gareth purposely took half steps, allowing them to close the distance. Seeing they were nearly upon him, he jumped back, throwing off their perception. Bracing his shield, he prepared for the impact.

  The first dreualfar slammed hard into him, dropping his sword from the unexpected change in distance.

  The bald warrior brought his mace around, crushing the dreualfar's head between it and the shield. It popped from the blow, splattering brain matter and blood across the metal device. The now dead dre
ualfar fell to the rocky floor.

  Ravion stepped from his veil, quickly moving behind his unsuspecting prey.

  Gareth threw his shield out, blocking several swipes from the remaining dreualfar. He had no chance of getting past it. He was nothing. Just a simple grunt armed for no other purpose than patrolling the tunnels.

  Ravion calmly brought his longsword up, placing the tip against the unaware dreualfar's spine. Wasting no time, he plunged the sword downward, sinking over half of the blade. The dreualfar buckled at the knees. His life gone before the blade stopped. Falling forward, the blade retracted.

  Gareth took the opportunity to kick his shield out, slamming it against the dead creature's face. He heard the neck snap, watching the head whip backward. The body spun from the impact, landing roughly in the dense clay.

  Ravion knelt down and wiped the blood from his father's sword onto the tattered clothes of his kill. He stood, sheathing his blade. “You just had to get your blow in didn't you?” Listening to his friend, he turned and continued down the passageway.

  “Of coarse. Now when he reaches Osirus, he can tell all his kin that he died at the hands of Gareth Dreuslayer! I'll bet he gets grand honors for that.” Laughing at the notion, he reached down and cut an ear from each of the fallen dreualfar. Quickly adding them to his necklace, he continued on behind Ravion.

  ***

  The sun hung low in the sky, retreating toward the horizon. In a few minutes, night would claim dominion over the city of Shadgull.

  The streets were wide, laid with the finest brick. Not a single stone was out of place in the fading light. The buildings were fantastic, made of stone and wood, each one with a blue shingled roof. The blue and silver banner of Shadgull hung in every direction. A lantern post stood every thirty feet on the side of each road, allowing merchants and citizens to find their way in the dark.

 

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