by R W Foster
He nodded and beckoned a dwarf in chain mail over. He conferred in a low voice with her, and after, she raced off. While they talked, Weijia walked by, talking with robed dwarves. She glanced over at me and winked. I gave a faint smile and turned back to Durrgedenn. I wasn’t surprised to see him watching me with an intent gaze. “Something is bothering you, my boy.”
“Indeed.” He waited, allowing me time to gather my thoughts. “Lord Silverhame,” I said, choosing to speak to him as an elder. “I have a couple of problems.”
“Do those problems concern the young lady who walked by?” He asked.
“One does, I think.”
“Tell me.”
“I find myself thinking about a certain young woman a lot. She is the first thing on my mind when I wake and the last I think about when I go to sleep. I find myself thinking about her at odd times, wondering what she would think of this, or how she would react to that. If I think of something odd, or funny, she is the first one I want to share it with.”
“You are in love with her.”
“Are you sure?”
He chuckled, yet seemed sad. “Aye. I felt the same way about a woman a long time ago,” he said.
“What happened?”
“We married and she bore me four strapping sons before she was killed in a battle with Lucien’s forces.”
“I’m sorry.” I scratched at my belly without thinking about it.
“Don’t be,” he responded. “She died with great-maul in hand, crushing the skull of a demon which was trying to kill our eldest son. Back to your problem. Is the woman you are always thinking about Weijia?”
“No,” I said. “She’s a Renline Keeper.”
Durrgedenn sat back in surprise. “I didn’t know any Renline lived. And you’re in love with a Keeper? You are aware she will outlive you by centuries, aren’t you?”
“Yes and yes. Now do you begin to comprehend my problem? What should I do?”
“Talk to her as soon as you can. So, what is going on between you and Weijia?”
“I don’t know. She has said she wants to be with me. Whatever that means.”
The Clan Lord laughed. “She wants you to bed her, my boy!”
My jaw dropped. Without thinking I said, “I couldn’t do that to my Rishka!”
The dwarf stopped laughing. “Carter, are you sure?”
Bewildered, I said, “Of course! Why would you ask me that?”
“Carter, do you know what Rishka means?”
“Yes. ‘Bright One.’ It’s an honorific.”
“Yes, but do you know what this means to the Renline?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who taught you the word?”
“Keeper Dearbhaile Galonadriel who is apprenticed to a Vaush-Tauric.”
“Morgrid’s beard! She’s still an apprentice. Wow. You are a lucky man, Carter.”
“Why?” I asked, still confused.
“Before I answer, have you called her Rishka?”
“No. She only called me thus right after I surrendered myself to Belial.”
“You surrendered yourself to Belial?! Okay, tell me the whole story from the beginning!”
Even more puzzled than I was before, I did as he bade me. I told Durrgedenn about being in my own world, meeting Mordecai and being drawn to this world. I spoke of the Crimson Walker, causing him to gasp, and the appearance of Azriel. I talked about Angriz and restoring him from the Bloodtaste, Lady Orwen’s abduction, meeting the Vaush-Tauric and Keeper Dearbhaile, the attack by Sera and Belial, the implementation and breaking of the Stop-Time spell, and the wiping of mine and Keeper Dearbhaile’s memory. I mentioned the wizard Cora, her contest and granting of the wish, the summoning and bargain with Belial. As if remembering that had triggered it, my hand stole up to scratch at the moss-type growth I had packed into my wound.
“Before I entered the summoning circle, she called me Rishka,” I concluded two hours later.
“Amazing,” he said.
“So, what do you think is so important with her calling me Rishka?” I asked.
“For a Renline, calling someone Rishka is the same as a human saying to another the words, ‘I love you.’ Understand?”
I looked at him in shock.
4
As night fell, the three of us - Durrgedenn, Weijia and me - headed out to sneak into Silverholme. The journey back to Silverholme took less time than did the escape. Not having to keep track of so many others made things easier too. The three of us were dressed in black and grey leather armor, our weapons tied down so they wouldn’t jangle and give away our movements. We encountered an orc patrol camped about an hour away from the fortress. We crouched behind a bush in the shadows cast by the orc’s fire. I counted four grey skinned orcs sitting around the blaze, plus one standing sentry duty at the edge of the light. A tent was set up a few paces away from the fire. The ones near the fire were cooking meat of some kind. The orc which was supposed to be on guard duty spent most of his time focused on the orcs by the fire and licking his thick lips.
“What should we do, Carter?” Durrgedenn whispered.
“Depends,” I responded at the same volume, scratching my abdomen where I had placed the pink moss to halt my bleeding. “Do you think we can get passed them without their knowledge?”
“With the way you travel, I would say that is probable.”
To my horrified surprise, I realized Weijia had circled around their camp and was creeping in. She silenced the inattentive sentry with ease by slicing his throat with a long knife. She dragged the dead orc further out of the light and gave a small rock a light toss into the brush on the other side of the tent. The orcs all looked towards the noise. After a small scuffle; one was sent to investigate. Weijia melted further into the shadows. The remaining orcs began to eat, not worrying about their companions.
A rock sailed through the air and hit one of the orcs sitting close to us. The stone bounced off his thick head and tumbled into the darkness. The orc jumped to his feet and began grunting and squealing at his companions. I don’t speak orc, but I think he blamed one of the others for throwing the rock. As we watched, the orcs began to fight amongst themselves. My friends didn’t take long to decide they weren’t content to watch the orcs.
I was startled when an orc sprouted an arrowhead from the center of his throat before he collapsed in a heap. The remaining two stopped their fighting to stare at their fallen companion. Weijia took this opportunity to slip out of the shadows to run one of the remaining orcs through. The last orc scrambled over to the tent and picked up a heavy mace. He leaped back towards the fire, intending on engaging Weijia, but met me instead. He swung his mace at my skull. I ducked and drove my sword into his gut. I pulled the sword from the dead orc and wiped the blade on his armor, then returned it to its sheathe.
“Did you have to attack the orcs, Weijia?” I asked.
“Yes I did. They and their master are responsible for me being tortured, remember?”
I didn’t want to confess I hadn’t. ‘What kind of person forgets something so horrible happening to another?’
“Of course not,” I lied. “I meant, did you have to do so now?”
“The only good orc, is a dead one,” she said, her face grim.
‘She has issues,’ I thought.
‘She doesn't just have issues, she has a subscription, a complete collection from issue one and fancy binders to keep them in!’ I responded to myself.
‘Heh-heh. Brilliant.’
“Okay, then,” I said aloud. “Let’s get going. And, please try to remember: this is supposed to be a stealth mission! No more killing orcs unless necessary!”
“I’ll decide what is necessary,” she said, frost falling from her lips.
“No. You won’t,” I said, my voice stiff. “Not if you want to continue on this mission with us. I am in charge. If you don’t wish to obey my orders, go back to the clanhold.”
Without waiting for her response, I stalked off i
nto the darkness. I was aware of Durrgedenn coming up to walk beside me, but if he had any thoughts on what had just transpired, he didn’t share them with me. The rest of the journey back to Silverholme was uneventful.
5
Once we got inside the walls of Silverholme, I suggested we split up so as to cover more ground faster in our search for the Lady Orwen. Weijia shook her head. “We should stick together, Carter.”
“Bad idea. In splitting up, we can better achieve our goal of freeing Lady Orwen and getting out of here which is better as far as tactics are concerned.”
“It makes more sense to keep you safe. If we lose the Walker of Worlds, there is no telling how catastrophic that would be. Durrgedenn, please talk some sense into him!”
“While I get your point Miss Fujii, Carter also has a point: we are here to rescue Lady Orwen. If we stay together, we pretty much guarantee our failure.”
“Fine,” she said in a huffy voice. “I’ll take the battlements and work my way down.”
“Excellent. I’ll start with the prison area where I was being held.”
“I will remain down here and search,” Durrgedenn said, “Shall we meet near the exit, or the torture chambers?”
“The exit,” I said. “Be ready. We might be coming at a run.”
“Don’t forget the signal arrow,” Weijia said. “It wouldn’t be good to be recaptured by Belial’s demons.”
“Agreed,” said the dwarf.
We clasped forearms, Durrgedenn headed to the left, and Weijia and I headed for the elevator. We encountered no one as we slipped through the hallways, and scurried passed doorways. We made it back to the torture chamber where we had first met. Little had changed except for the addition of five of the bat-type creatures and the decay of the other corpses. Flies buzzed around the bodies. I made the mistake of looking at the elf in the metal hoop device. The nest of squirming maggots where his eyes had been got my stomach to churning. I looked away before I added a steaming pile of puke to the carnage surrounding us.
I glanced over at Weijia and discovered she had made her face a mask of nothingness. Being back here had to have been harder on her than me, but she didn’t say anything. She glanced around once, then strode to the elevator. I hurried to keep up with her rapid pace. When we boarded the lift, she kept her back to the front until I worked the control which started us upward and we had cleared the first fifty feet of shaft.
“Are you alright?” I asked, scratching my old wound.
“I will be,” she responded. “I did not expect to be affected that way, Carter. It was as if I was tied to that wall again.”
“Must have been a living nightmare for you: being tortured, helpless, alone and afraid; not knowing if you were going to live or die, or when.”
“Yes.” Her brow furrowed and she leaned closer to me. “Carter, how do you know this? Were you also tortured?”
“Not the way you were. I had this shock collar around my neck which was used to keep me in line and whenever the mood struck Belial or one of his minions. The worst part for me was I was forced to compete in gladiatorial matches. I had to kill, or be killed. I came to not mind the killing as much. What hurt was coming to realize something about myself, something I had held dear to my heart, was false. Empty words that meant nothing in the end.”
The elevator had come to a halt, but neither of us were aware of this.
“What was it, Carter? What did Belial take from you?”
“My pride. I had always been smug and certain I could not be forced to do anything. ‘All you have in life are the choices you make,’ I told everyone in my unthinking arrogance. ‘Even if your life is threatened, you still have the ability to choose death. That’s what I would do in that type of situation. I would be defiant to the end.’ That’s what I said, anyway. When the time came, however, I did not. I gave Belial control over me.”
“Choosing to live isn’t giving someone control over you, Carter.”
“No,” I said. “Allowing them to dictate my actions did.” She sighed and reached for me. I turned and slung open the grate of the elevator. I stepped off. Without looking back, I said, “Be careful, Weijia. No telling what Belial has planned for us.”
“I will. You be careful, too, Carter.” As I started down the corridor, she said in a soft tone, “Come back to me in one piece, my love.”
I don’t know if I was supposed to catch those words, or not. I chose to act as if I hadn’t. I still had no idea how to tell her my heart belonged to another. I didn’t want to hurt her.
6
I stole along the hallway that lead to my former cell as during my escape. I still didn’t know why it had been switched from the one closer to the arena, but didn’t care either. Cool air from an unseen opening to the outside blew across my face. ‘This is familiar.’ It was the intersection from escape. ‘Towards the breeze, or to my left, into the darkness? Eenie-meenie-miney-moe.’ I went left, into the darkness, with some trepidation, with no idea what was down here. ‘Damn this oppressive silence is spooky.’ The air seemed to grow thicker, heavier and more ominous. Though there was no light in the hallway, it appeared to get darker. Just ahead of me, a little boy giggled. I froze, the hairs on my body all standing at attention, goose bumps running over my body. The sound stopped with no echoes. I drew the sword a clan Silverhame smith gave me, glad to have its weight in my hand.
I resumed walking, and footsteps echoed behind me. I whirled around halting, and bringing the long sword up in a defensive posture. The steps also stopped. I held my breath, straining my ears for any sounds, but there were none. Walking again, reluctant as hell, but this time nothing except my own heartbeat, which had ramped up quite a bit, made a sound. The silence didn’t remain for long, however. Just ahead of me, a baby begin to cry. The fear in that young voice spurred me into a run. The crying baby changed to a young girl shrieking, then a young woman screaming, then an old woman choking, then stopped. My nerves were shot. I stumbled to another halt, and leaned against a stone wall, trembling like as if with a cold.
Breathing normal again, and having regained my composure, I pushed against the wall, intending to go upright. Instead, the hardness of the stone gave way to the soft yielding of flesh. At the same time, a long, wet tongue slid up the side of my face. I screamed in revulsion and disgust and thrust my sword at who, or whatever had just licked me. The only resistance my sword met was when it impacted the far wall of the hallway. Malevolent laughter echoed through the darkness.
A sinister voice whispered near my right ear, “If you do not study…” Then, it moved to just in front of me and thundered, “YOU! SHALL NOT!! PAAASSSSS!!!!”
As the booming of the abrupt shout died away, I laughed. “Really?” wiped tears of mirth from my eyes. “Are you misquoting Lord of the Rings at me?!”
There was no response. Still chuckling a bit, I resumed walking. The dim stone walls and floor of the hallway were visible again. A little further the light grew a bit brighter. ‘It’s the mist.’ After another five minutes of travel, it was like I was in an ethereal realm. I moved to touch the wall on my right hand so I wouldn’t get turned around, and my hand met nothing. I stumbled forward into the mist and landed on my stomach, knocking the wind from myself.
I took a couple of minutes to recover, not noticing the moisture that was sinking into my clothing. I stood at last, and when my clothing clung to me, swore. ‘Just what I fucking need: my clothes to be wet.’ I trudged across the sodden, muddy ground, grimacing with abhorrence at each step. ‘Damn these wet clothes feel disgusting.’ Thunder rumbled off to my right, causing me to wonder if I had wandered outside somehow. A warm rain began to fall on me. Finding it tonnes better than the cold dampness that had already surrounded me,. I paused, tilted my head back to better enjoy the feel of the rain, and soon caught whiff of a familiar, coppery scent. My eyes opened. Sure enough, blood was falling from the sky like rain. I heaved a sigh and trudged onwards. Ten feet later, I tripped over a stone block, and rolled
onto my back, clutching my injured shin and swearing like a sailor.
Something made me roll with alacrity to my right. The world imploded around me. I smelled ozone an instant before a shockwave sent me rolling further away. When the world ceased spinning, I sat up and opened my eyes. The mist cleared enough for me to see a blackened crater where I had been laying just moments before. ‘Okay, somebody doesn’t want me to continue. This must be the right way.’ Curiosity had me check out the stone I tripped over earlier, scooping up my dropped sword as I approached it.
The stone looked to be ordinary granite; white with striations of grey and black, and polished to a high sheen. I walked around and froze, my heart in my throat. Claws had gouged out a name and two dates.
CARTER MARCUS BLAKE
10/9/20XX – 5/6/20XX
I must admit: seeing that freaked me out. For one, I never use my middle name - can’t stand the thing. For another, I had an inkling that the second date was today. A sliding step came as if someone was attempting to sneak up on me. I whirled, sword up in a ready defensive position. No one. Full of caution, I made my way passed the stone and began to move faster, something telling me that time was running out.
A large dark shape plummeted to the ground in front of me, making me leap backward on instinct. Lightning flashed, illuminating the newcomer in staccato bursts. One of the largest demons I had ever seen crouched in front of me, black wings furled over its massive muscled back. Four long, thick arms, the lower two of which were planted on the ground and two muscular legs, coiled and ready to launch the monster into action. Long and sharp looking horns stuck out of its skull-like head. An elongated, heavy tail swished back and forth like a cat’s. The fiend watched me with glowing silvery orange eyes, licking its face on occasion. Its wings unfurled and began to flap, stirring up a pleasant breeze. The wings were black near the demon’s shoulders and faded to red near the primary feathers. A stripe of yellow delineated the covert feathers. Keeping its eyes on me, the demon raised one of its arms from the ground, and stepped forward with slow care. This movement was followed by a matching step forward by its opposite leg. ‘The thing is stalking me.’