At first he could feel nothing . . . touch nothing. There was only blackness and he almost gave up, but then he began to . . . sense the weight of the mountain and the rock around him. Marcus was surprised that the texture of the rock varied in so many interesting ways. He knew that there were different types of rock, but never so many. Fascinated, he went further, feeling out hollowed spaces, caverns, tunnels, deep mines, the ancient bedrock, the flowing river of fire rock just beneath the mountain, burning red hot. It was glorious, amazing, and frightening all at the same time, and yet a completely different feeling from the forest. He could not sense the voice of the mountain as he could the forest, a presence that was almost physical but not. It was just . . . well, plain different. Perhaps he was not delving far enough?
Marcus pulled himself in deeper in an attempt to hear the voice of the mountain. Instead he bumped into two powerful minds that blazed hotter than the sun. He had never felt anything like it. Both were very close. He could sense the edge of their emotions as if it were a new taste. Then he realized that the minds, both terribly complex with an incredible feeling of great age, wisdom, and knowledge, were of two dragons.
Marcus could not explain how he knew exactly, but he did. He suddenly became conscious that one of the dragons was aware of his presence. A deep anger flared. There was a tremendous push, and he was thrust violently away. His mind was carried far. Then he sensed something else, to the south, another powerful mind. It was dark, vile, twisted, and corrupt. There was no other way to describe it but evil. He shuddered, feeling cold, alone, and afraid. Marcus felt a sense of deep despair and dread as it became aware of his presence and turned on him, drawing him in, much like a fisherman reeling in a catch. Marcus was trapped. He could not pull away as it drew and pulled him in and away from his body, and he felt himself begin to grow colder. He struggled mightily, but with no success. He began to panic.
A hand clamped down hard on his shoulder and Marcus was abruptly ripped back to his body and reality. Blinking, he was hauled roughly to his feet and found himself staring directly into a pair of deep silver eyes. It was extremely disconcerting, and Marcus shuddered under the intensity of the caretaker’s gaze. Menos had somehow pulled him back.
“Do not attempt that again,” Menos warned, poking a hard finger into Marcus’s chest.
Marcus blinked, disoriented. Feet were pounding up the stairs. He turned his head and saw Stiger reach the balcony, followed by Eli and the others. The floor suddenly vibrated, and from over the edge of the balcony there was a great scraping noise, followed by a deep, primal, guttural growl. The floor of the balcony shook with the impact of something smacking the cavern wall below. The cavern seemed to groan and dust billowed down from the ceiling. Several stalactites broke free and crashed to the floor.
Menos released him and stepped to the balcony railing as the massive head of Currose appeared, looming above, staring directly down upon Marcus with silver eyes that blazed with anger. Her head was the size of a small house. Marcus made the mistake of looking into the eyes of the dragon and found he could not look away, let alone blink. It was as if she could read his soul. His heart hammered as he felt pressure upon his mind. A great fear welled up inside of him. He wanted to scream and run for safety but could not move. The dragon’s mouth opened, revealing an impressive set of fangs and several deadly-looking rows of serrated teeth. Steam escaped from around her nostrils as she took a deep breath and exhaled it out in a blast of heated air.
“Foolish human,” the dragon hissed aloud, speaking common. “You play with earth-sense, a power you do not understand. Have you no wisdom?”
Caught in the deadly gaze of the dragon, his body was frozen, rooted to the floor. He screamed silently as the dragon’s mind brutally invaded his own, digging and pushing though unwanted thoughts, searching for something. Tears rolled down his face as the dragon pried loose his memories one after another and examined them. The torment continued, and his body shook with unbelievable pain. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the dragon released his mind. He was free.
Marcus screamed in agony as his muscles gave way. He collapsed upon the stone floor in a heap, breathing heavily. Tears freely streamed down his face as he cried unabashedly. He had never known such torment and shivered at the memory of the pain.
There was shouting. Marcus struggled to raise his head. After a failed try, he was successful. Stiger and Eli had their swords out. The legate was facing the dragon, a terrible rage contorting his face and his sword alight with blue fire. Marcus had heard of the magic sword, but he had not seen it at work.
The dragon’s head reared back and she screamed in outrage.
“Rarokan?” the dragon roared, the noise deafening in the confines of the cavern. A gout of flame leapt several feet from her mouth before being sucked back inside. “Human, you dare threaten me?”
“Currose.” A voice snapped like the crack of a whip. It took Marcus a moment to realize that it had been Menos. The dragon looked to the caretaker. “These are friends of the Compact. We do not treat our allies this way.”
A growling noise escaped from the dragon’s throat as she considered Menos. Currose ground her teeth in what seemed to Marcus to be frustration, and her head swung back and forth.
“Legate, put that abhorrence you call a sword away,” Menos ordered curtly. “We will not destroy the Compact this day.”
Marcus pulled himself to his knees and watched as Stiger hesitated a moment before angrily sheathing the weapon. The legate glared at the dragon with a look he might have given a man on parade who did not measure up to his standard.
“You do not harm my men,” the legate snapped at the dragon. “Nor do you threaten them.”
“Currose,” Menos said, “this is the Legate of the Thirteenth.”
The dragon snapped her teeth a couple of times before she leaned forward toward Stiger, sniffing as she came right up to the balcony. Marcus could not believe that Stiger stood his ground as they came face to face. The legate did not move an inch, nor did he flinch.
“I have met this one before,” Currose said.
“He is the descendent of Delvaris,” Menos said.
The dragon cocked her great head slightly before pulling back. “Very well, I leave this matter in your claws. I will return to my watch.” The dragon spared Marcus a look. “Foolish human. Have a care, for you meddled with that which should not be disturbed.”
Then her head and neck withdrew out of view from the balcony. There was the sound of scraping once again, and the balcony floor vibrated as the dragon settled down before finally becoming still. Dust continued to rain down from the ceiling in a fine mist.
“That was unwise,” Menos said, turning to Marcus. “Without proper training, there are things your mind is not capable of handling. What were you thinking?”
Marcus stood, if a little shakily. He had a pounding headache and his vision was swimming. He held his forehead in his hands for a moment until the worst subsided.
“What did you do?” Stiger snapped at him, demanding an answer.
“I tried to listen to the mountain as I do the forest, sir.” Marcus attempted to come to a position of attention and failed. He staggered slightly and was forced to catch himself with a hand to the cavern wall.
Ogg abruptly giggled, and surprisingly Eli chuckled along with him. Marcus noticed the legate grimace unhappily at Eli.
“He has mountain sense?” Braddock asked, abruptly looking over at Eli for confirmation.
“It would seem so,” Eli said, eyeing Marcus with what he took to be an extremely pleased look.
“Impressive,” Taha’Leeth said, eyeing Marcus curiously before glancing over at Eli. “The gods favor you greatly, ranger.”
“Mountain sense is a very rare trait amongst our people,” Braddock said. “Who taught you?”
“That would be me,” Eli admitted.
“You?” Braddock asked with astonishment written on his face. “How can an elf teach something only dwarves know?”
“To be fair, you taught me the ways of the forest,” Marcus said. The headache was receding. “I just used it here and found something a little different.”
“Rock Friend.” Garrack stepped forward and gave Marcus a friendly thump on the shoulder that was a little too powerful. Weakened from his encounter with the dragon, Marcus almost collapsed. Garrack caught him by an arm and held him steady. “Among my people you are now Rock Friend. You have great gift from gods. Is occasion for drink. Tonight we share friendly drinks.”
Marcus was almost afraid of what a friendly drink entailed, but it sure sounded better than confronting a dragon. “I could sure use a drink.”
“What exactly is this mountain sense?” Stiger asked.
“Your ranger can sense the mountain with his mind,” Braddock explained. “Perhaps one every generation or so is born with this gift. It is used to find new caverns and veins of ore for mining. Occasionally, when someone is strong enough, they can sense more.”
“More?”
“They can sense all living creatures under the mountain.” The thane turned a curious look on Marcus. “To provoke such a reaction from Currose, he must be strong with the ability, that is sure.”
There was a huffing sound from below and greasy black smoke rose up in several short blasts.
“It is time for you to leave,” Menos said curtly before turning and walking down the steps. Over his shoulder he looked back briefly at Marcus. “You have tested Currose’s patience. Do not do it again, for we may not be there to save you.”
Then he was gone, descending the steps to the cavern floor. Marcus felt chilled by the words of the caretaker. He knew without a doubt that he had been extremely lucky.
“Legate Stiger,” Braddock said, “perhaps we should retire for the evening to Old City. We have a place prepared for you, along with some food.”
“Lead on,” Stiger said, with an unhappy look over at Marcus.
Braddock said something to Naggock in dwarven, and several of the thane’s guard started through the doorway. Braddock followed, with Naggock a step behind. Stiger went next, trailed by Father Thomas and Sergeant Arnold.
“I thought you promised you would stay out of trouble.” Eli stepped by Marcus, amusement dancing in his eyes. The elf paused a moment and clapped him on the shoulder before he too stepped through the doorway.
Taha’Leeth looked as if she wanted to say something, but appeared to change her mind. Together with Aver’Mons she stepped through the doorway and left only Garrack and Marcus on the balcony.
Marcus was able to stand much better now. Garrack leaned down and scooped up his blanket and his pack.
“How about we both go and get drink now?” Garrack suggested with a grin. “We both get very drunk. Is not every day you piss on dragon and survive, no?”
There was a very loud and disgusted grunt below them. A gout of flame shot up into the center of the cavern, level with the balcony. The heat of the blast was almost enough to singe.
“That might not be a bad idea,” Marcus agreed hastily, retrieving his belongings from Garrack.
Six
Stiger cracked his neck and then stretched it out as he walked. They had left Grata’Jalor and made the short journey from the castle to the city. On the back side of the castle, a drawbridge over the chasm took them to a large tunnel that led to the city, where they emerged on a ledge high above the cavern that housed Garand Thoss. A road wound downward to the city itself several hundred feet below them.
Garand Thoss had been built inside an adjoining cavern that, much like the one that housed Grata’Jalor, had been painstakingly carved out by hand. Glancing up toward the skylights, Stiger judged it to be late afternoon. The light from above was beginning to wane, casting darkness and shadow across the city below. There were only a few lights visible. From what Stiger could see in the gloom, the city was large and mostly empty.
The city itself, though long-abandoned, was a grand testament to dwarven skill at construction and engineering. Several stories in height, massive steepled buildings rose from a variety of smaller structures on the cavern floor. Where humans would use wood, brick, and plaster, the dwarves seemed to prefer stone. As a result, all of the buildings had a very solid look to them. Yet despite that, Stiger felt that they looked elegant as well.
Braddock explained that only a portion of the city was visible, as the rest extended down into the mountain itself. As they made their way along the road and came closer to the crumbling buildings, it surprised Stiger that such a great city had been abandoned. He had difficulty imagining an imperial city being left in such a way.
The thane and his escort led them off the road and into a portion of the city that appeared to be settled. They passed by several armed patrols of dwarves, all wearing the yellow and brown of Hrove’s clan. When Braddock was not looking, Stiger thought he detected dirty looks cast their way. Though, to be honest, it was hard to be sure, what with dwarven beards. Still, Stiger found his sense of unease growing and wondered if it was just his imagination. Perhaps he was simply on edge because he was so far under the mountain. He found it very unnatural and suspected the elves felt the same way too.
They found a couple of gnomes waiting for them, standing patiently just before a tunnel that led downward and out of the massive cavern. The gnomes provided each of them with a lantern. No words were exchanged, and without any thanks to the gnomes, Braddock and his dwarves led them onward through a confusing maze of endless dusty passageways and staircases until they came to one that was nominally lit by oil lamps. The lamps had been hung from hooks in the ceiling every thirty feet or so. The passageway had also been swept clean and was free of dust and cobwebs.
“This is the Calgan District. It was once a thriving residential neighborhood,” Braddock explained. He stopped and turned to face them. There were numerous doors located to either side of the passageway, all freshly painted with bright solid colors. The painted doors were the first real bit of color that Stiger had seen in the abandoned city. Everything else had been drab, shrouded in dust and simply left to decay into ruin.
“Our cities are clan-based,” Braddock said, standing in the center of the passageway and addressing them. “Think of them as individual kingdoms, with each clan having their own distinct lands. One clan will not trespass on another’s without permission. Sadly, we are a quick-tempered people. I intend to change that. Garand Thoss will be an open city for all clans. It will be a model for the future of my people.”
“You mean to populate this city with members from all clans?” Stiger asked the thane.
“It is my dream,” Braddock explained with passion. “The first of our settlers from at least half a dozen clans have arrived. Most are second and third sons, with no opportunity to inherit. They come with royal grants to make a life for themselves and their families. More will come, seeking a fresh future, a new start.”
“That is a noble effort,” Stiger said, thinking on what Braddock was trying to accomplish by repopulating this dead city.
“Perhaps not in my lifetime, but surely in my son’s they will reclaim this city,” Braddock said brightly. “Garand Thoss will prove to be a symbol that one day all Dvergr will look to as an example.”
“In that you are stronger working together than apart?” Eli hazarded.
“Yes, exactly.” Braddock looked over at the elf with an extremely pleased look. “That is my dream.”
“One day long from now,” Eli said, “I hope that I am able return to see your dream fulfilled.”
Braddock looked at the elf for a heartbeat and nodded. “Once a thing is done . . . it is easy to forget. On that day, you will tell all who care to listen how this city was once a crumbling ruin? You will remind them of the greatness it took to rebuild?”
> “I will,” Eli said gravely. “I swear it.”
“Then I shall issue a proclamation. Upon my word, I will bind future generations to grant you access to Garand Thoss.”
“I am honored,” Eli said, inclining his head to the thane.
“The honor is mine,” Braddock replied with a faraway look in his eyes. “I will have my proclamation entered into the Great Record this evening. You shall receive a copy.”
Stiger looked between the two. Braddock was a determined leader. He would do everything possible to repopulate this city. Stiger could almost envision the thriving metropolis rising from the ashes of a long-dead city. He, like Braddock, would not live to see the dream come to fruition, but Stiger knew Eli well. As promised, he would one day return. It might take five hundred, maybe even a thousand years, but if he were able to do so, he would return. Should it succeed, Eli would witness the fulfillment of Braddock’s dream.
Braddock addressed the group. “Two of our settlers from my clan have offered to host you and your companions.”
“We are grateful for their hospitality,” Stiger said, suspecting that playing host was important to dwarven culture. Stiger would have been happy to make the long ride back to Castle Vrell, though he could not admit that to Braddock.
A lot of work waited for him. He had to assess and assimilate the three new cohorts. Stiger intended to personally evaluate their ability and then build upon it with more training, if needed. There was always room for improvement. Stiger also had to begin preparing for the coming campaign against the Cyphan. There were hundreds of details that needed attending to, the most important being how to feed and supply his men. That meant determining what supplies were needed, both in consumables and equipment. As legate, Stiger was now the equivalent of a general, though his men numbered less than a full legion. He had to start thinking like one, and for the coming offensive with the dwarves, he needed to be prepared. That would require a lot of planning.
The Tiger's Fate (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 3) Page 10