The Grim Wanderer

by James Wolf

  ‘Thank you,’ Baek said, and Forgrun grinned.

  A few people in the common room started clapping, and everyone soon joined in, giving the Rhungar a standing ovation. Forgrun made a grand bow, as people in the common room started cheering, and came up to thank him for getting rid of those thugs.

  ‘You threw them around like ragdolls!’ Baek slapped his Rhungar friend on the shoulder.

  ‘Aye,’ Forgrun grinned, ‘Master Logan’s trainin’ do actually make yhee stronger.’

  ‘Two tankards o’ thy finest, please me lady,’ Forgrun said to the serving girl, as he leant against part of the bar he had not destroyed, ‘an half glass o’ finest wine fer me Aborle friend.’

  ‘Look out!’ Baek cried, as Louse ran at Forgrun with a dagger.

  Forgrun spun, snatched Louse’s wrist with one hand, and grabbed his throat with the other.

  ‘O, ye should nay ‘ave do that!’ Forgrun said menacingly, as Louse struggled to stab him, but the Rhungar held him with ease. Louse used his free hand to punch Forgrun in the face. Forgrun just shook his head in disgust. He clutched Louse’s knife hand with both his huge hands, and twisted forcibly, snapping Louse’s wrist.

  ‘Aaaagh!’ Louse screamed as he dropped the knife.

  Forgrun swung his great fist into Louse’s jaw, and the thug collapsed in a limp heap. Forgrun shrugged, and took a tankard from the gawping serving girl.

  ‘What in the whole of Hathlore has happened here?’ Bessie came running into the common room, with her two tavern guards close behind.

  ‘Little bit o’ trouble,’ Forgrun raised his tankard and took a big swig, ‘but I do sort it.’

  Bessie looked at the unconscious men sprawled across her floor, and then at the broken tables and bar. She saw the way everyone in the silent common room was looking at Forgrun in awe, and she smiled at the Rhungar.

  ‘With the company you keep,’ Bessie shook her head, ‘it doesn’t surprise me that you taught these thugs a lesson.’

  ‘Aye,’ Forgrun raised his tankard, and downed the remainder his first beer, before picking up his second.

  ‘Take those men to The Watch,’ Bessie said to her tavern guards. ‘But search their pockets first – I need coin to cover all this damage.’

  Taem entered the common room and saw all the broken tables.

  ‘Did I miss something?’ Taem came over to Baek. ‘What’s that red mark on your face? And why is Forgrun’s nose bleeding?’

  ‘It was nothing that Forgrun couldn’t handle,’ Baek smiled, as he told Taem what had happened.

  ‘There be seats o’er here,’ Forgrun called to his friends. The Rhungar had been beckoned to join a group of adventurers sitting around a table set back in one of the corners.

  As Taem and Baek went over to the table, a heavy-set man with a shaven head stood up.

  ‘My name is Argan,’ he shook Taem’s hand cordially.

  Argan was six foot tall, and must have weighed at least fifteen stone – most of it muscle. He had the Beacon scar seared black into his cheek. Taem noticed Argan’s limp as he went to shake Baek’s hand.

  ‘Nargs,’ Argan said to Baek, as he saw the Aborle looking at the scars on his arm and his face. ‘That filth is hard to kill. Still, these old battle badges,’ Argan pointed to the ridged scar that ran down his forearm, ‘are always a good talking point with the ladies!’

  ‘And how did you get that scar?’ Baek pointed to the black Beacon scar on Argan’s right cheek.

  Forgrun growled at Baek, and Taem tried to catch the Aborle’s eye. Taem knew it was the mark of the Beacon, seared into the right cheek of every soldier of the Border Legion.

  Argan stared at Baek. The Borderers had a ferocious reputation, and their honour was a serious matter. They already believed the soft Southlanders did not understand or appreciate the heroic work they did.

  ‘I’ll let that go, Aborle,’ Argan said eventually, ‘but I wouldn’t ask another Borderer that, if I were you. This scar is the mark of The Legion, a beacon atop a tower, seared into my flesh by the Raven’s Fire. It is a mark of honour to us Sarcaedians that pass the test, a reminder of our oath to guard The Border.’

  Baek glanced at Taem and Forgrun, realising he had said something wrong.

  ‘Forgive my intrusion,’ Baek said, ‘but you are the first Borderer I’ve ever met, and I have great respect for The Legion.’ The Aborle put his hand on his heart and dropped his head.

  Argan relaxed back into his chair, ‘Well you don’t often find us so far from the Shadowborder. But I’ve given twenty years service to The Legion, and now I’ve come to Dolam for one last adventure, before I settle down – though I will always answer The Call of the Border, if the ravens return.’

  ‘I would like to see the Borderlands,’ Baek murmured, to which Argan nodded his approval.

  ‘I am Lockfor,’ said the other man at the table. Taem thought this slight man seemed as if he were hiding something. Lockfor had a shifty gaze that darted all over the common room, and he kept his black cloak clutched tight around him.

  ‘I’m from Marnion,’ Lockfor said.

  ‘A wizard?’ Baek asked.

  ‘I know a little of the magical arts,’ Lockfor smiled.

  Taem could not trust that smile.

  ‘I be Rani,’ said one of the Rhungars.

  ‘An’ I be Braknar,’ said the other Rhungar.

  ‘We both do be o’ clan Tsun Cloud,’ Rani said. ‘An’ do come from ye southern citadel o’ Ramduen.’

  Unusually for a Rhungar, Rani was fair haired and fair bearded, but Braknar’s beard was a more common brown. Taem could see Braknar, although giving away a foot in height, was far bulkier and heavier than Argan. He almost matched Forgrun for size. Both of these Tsun Cloud Rhungars wore bright clothes of fiery orange and shining silver. Taem could not believe a clan would choose to wear such a discord of colour.

  After Taem and Baek joined the table, talk soon turned to the great news of the day, the same news that was being discussed in every tavern of the city.

  ‘It’s true you know,’ Argan said softly. ‘I was there at Cragmir, fighting in The Legion, thirteen year ago. Dark times they were. Has any of you been to Cragmir?’

  The six others at the table all shook their heads.

  ‘Well,’ Argan said, ‘Cragmir is a city built into a mountain. It has four tiers, each one accessible from the level beneath, and each one heavily defendable. If the lower tier is overrun, we Borderers retreat to make a stand at the gates to the higher level. Not in a hundred years had even the first tier been breached, but thirteen year ago a vast army of Nargs laid siege to Cragmir. For nights on end battle raged along the outer battlements. Every night the Nargs would come and try to scale the high walls, skulking forward with the darkness, and every night we Borderers fought them off. It was carnage, the most desperate fighting I’ve ever seen. Soon, even we trained men of the Legion began to lose heart, but one man inspired us to keep fighting.’

  Taem could see the veneration in Argan’s eyes.

  ‘He was once a great captain and general,’ Argan whispered. ‘The Grim Wanderer men named him. Those of us who have seen into his dark eyes, we know well why men call him Grim. Although he never led the Border Legion into battle, all us warriors followed him. Always the Wanderer was where the fighting was thickest. His presence lifted us, and his mighty sword destroyed the Nargs.’ Argan shook his fist. ‘The Wanderer could wield that mighty sword faster than any man who has ever walked Hathlore. I saw it blow Nargs asunder! Destroy them with one touch. It was as if the enchanted blade knew of its master’s rage, and the Nargs soon learnt to fear him.’

  ‘The Wanderer’s sword,’ Lockfor said greedily, ‘must be a weapon of great power.’

  Taem glared at Lockfor.

  ‘On the seventeenth night,’ Argan went on, ‘I remember a full moon looming in the night sky. The Nargs concentrated their forces, bringing a monstrous battering ram to smash the gates. For two hours they crashed on the
doors of Cragmir with the ram, whilst we pelted them with arrows, bolts, stones, tar and fire. Countless Nargs were killed, but there were always more to take up the battering ram again.’

  Taem and his friends listened with bated breath. Argan’s words conjured pictures in Taem’s mind, and he could almost imagine being there at the siege of Cragmir.

  ‘Despite our best efforts,’ Argan murmured, ‘the gates eventually cracked and splintered, and the Border Legion was ordered to retreat, to take up the defence of the second tier. We Borderers abandoned the first gate and the outer wall, and I remember running for the second tier, but my comrades were shouting. I turned to look, and saw a unit of besieged men were trapped inside the city’s first gatehouse. Below these doomed men, Nargs continued to smash against the battered gates, and we all could see the gates would soon give way. The Borderer commander ordered us to continue the retreat, to abandon the men trapped in the gatehouse to certain death, so the Legion could be ready to defend the second tier.’

  ‘You left those men to die?’ Baek asked.

  ‘It was the only decision our commander could make,’ Argan said. ‘To try and save those men would have risked breaching the whole city. That is the way of war, Baek. Some brave men die so that others can live. So it was with heavy hearts that we retreated to the second gate. But,’ Argan held up a fist, ‘when the first wall’s gates came crashing down, and the smoke cleared away, all us Borderers could see one man standing in the open gateway.’

  Forgrun gasped. And Taem felt his heart surge.

  ‘The Grim Wanderer stood alone,’ Argan said proudly, ‘barring the Nargs’ entry to the city. It was the bravest thing I have ever seen, and I’ll never see the like of it again. As the Nargs rushed him, the Wanderer’s sword flashed. I watched as he battled the enemy, moving like no other man can. He struck down any of the beastmen that made it through those broken gates, until there were heaped piles of slaughtered Nargs. The beastmen had to trample over their fallen to reach the Wanderer, but any Narg that came within range of his blade died. It was impossible that one man could stand against so many, but the Light was with him.’

  ‘How could one man hold back an army?’ Lockfor asked.

  ‘Somehow he cut them all down,’ Argan said reverently. ‘Whatever mighty power was in the Grim Wanderer – I know not. But hold back an army he did, alone, in that narrow gap. Seeing this courage, we soldiers of the Border Legion charged back to the gate. The Wanderer had bought time for the men trapped in the gatehouse to escape, and they had managed to get out, but instead of heading to the second tier in retreat they took up position either side of the Grim Wanderer, and helped him hold the broken gates.’

  Baek, Forgrun and Taem listened in incredulously. Taem was hanging off Argan’s every word.

  ‘We Borderers surged out into the Narg horde beyond the gates,’ Argan said, ‘setting upon them with fury. It was dangerous to leave the protection of the city walls, but the Wanderer was at our head, and he gave every man heart.’ Argan smiled as he remembered the glory of that battle. ‘Onward we pushed, decimating the Dark Horde until they could take no more. The enemy turned and fled north, their twisted tails between their legs. The Wanderer had turned the tide of the battle, and a great victory had been won for the Light. There is no Borderer alive who does not revere the Grim Wanderer, and owe homage to his courage and skill.’

  Taem had been so enraptured by Argan’s story, that he had forgotten where he was as he envisioned the great defence of Cragmir. He looked at his friends, and saw they had been as captivated by the tale as he. Forgrun had even forgotten about his beer!

  Rani raised his tankard to Argan’s story, ‘Even amongs’ we Rhungars I do hear ye name an’ some o’ ye legends. He be ye man who crusades agains’ ye Dark. Ter wander bravely where nay others would dare. Ye man who could nay be killed.’ Rani raised up his tankard in salute.

  ‘Do it be true?’ Braknar asked. ‘What I do hear abou’ ye Wanderer avengin’ murder o’ family by Narg raidin’ party? He do Track ’em back o’er ye border inter Zezometh, do kill ’em all an’ be rescuin’ a girl-child they do take as play-thing?’

  ‘There are many legends of the Grim Wanderer's heroic deeds,’ Argan said wistfully.

  ‘He do sound like Rhungari brother who do swear himself ter Gromm,’ Rani said to Braknar and Forgrun.

  ‘If only we could get this Wanderer to come with us and follow my map,’ Lockfor said.

  ‘May as well wish for wings to fly us into the Lost Realms,’ Argan laughed. ‘You think the Wanderer would go on a quest for gold? Were you not listening?’

  Lockfor’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Aye, but how abou’ this Drual Dhagren then?’ Braknar asked. ‘I be hearin’ abou’ him. It do sound like ’e do be useful.’ The Rhungar downed the rest of his tankard, and signalled the serving girls to bring him another.

  ‘Dhagren is an adventurer,’ Argan said contemptuously, ‘not a warrior.’

  ‘But don’ he be ye richest an’ mos’ successful adventurer o’ our times?’ Rani asked.

  ‘It is true.’ Argan said. ‘He is the most prosperous adventurer of our time. But I’ve heard his mouth is bigger than his deeds, and his arrogance is matched only by how much the ladies fall for his smile.’

  ‘He is a talented thief,’ Lockfor said, ‘of that there is no doubt, but I’ve heard he’s no warrior.’

  ‘Neveryeless,’ Rani said, ‘this Drual Dhagren do be soundin’ useful. Do there be any chance o’ recruitin’ him?’

  Argan and Lockfor glanced at each other, and the two men laughed out loud.

  ‘No,’ Argan said, ‘he’s too happy where he is at the moment. He’s famous.’ The Sarcaedian warrior said bitterly. ‘Men listen to his stories, and women swoon at his feet. He’s very wealthy, and far too comfortable. Dhagren has no reason to head back eastwards, to risk danger and death.’

  ‘What about you three,’ Lockfor asked Baek, Forgrun and Taem.

  ‘We do see what yhee can do,’ Rani dipped his head to Forgrun, ‘Yhee do be great warrior.’

  Forgrun sat up straight, with a self-satisfied look on his face.

  ‘An Aborle seldom leaves his homeland,’ Lockfor said to Baek, ‘and only when he’s got the adventuring streak in him.’

  ‘And you, Lad?’ Argan said to Taem. ‘You’re dressed like a farmboy, but there’s something different about you. I've soldiered for many years, I know a strong character when I see one.’

  ‘We have something in mind already,’ Taem said.

  ‘Shame,’ Lockfor muttered, ‘there’s a lot of gold to be had at the end of this map,’ the Wizard patted a jacket pocket where his prized map must have been. ‘We’ll each have an equal share?’

  ‘No,’ Taem said decisively, ‘my Master has a task for us.’

  ‘Ah, you’re a squire,’ Argan nodded. ‘I guess your lord took you from your village to be his second, and teach you how to fight? You’re loyal to him, I respect that. Leave them be lads,’ Argan said to his adventuring colleagues, ‘they’re already taken.’

  ‘An’ yhee, Forgrun?’ Rani said. ‘Yhee will nay come with thy own kind?’

  ‘By Kaladim,’ Forgrun put a fist on his heart, ‘I mus’ stay with Taem an’ Baek ‘ere. I give them me oath.’

  ‘Be fair enough,’ Rani said gruffly, looking at Forgrun with surprise.

  ‘Who be we goin’ ter get then?’ Braknar asked. ‘There be a lot o’ Krun in ye Lost Realms. We do be needin’ some more adventurers, in case we be hunted an’ surrounded?’

  ‘But,’ Lockfor said slyly, ‘the four of us could slip through unnoticed where a larger group might be seen. And, less people to split the spoils with?’

  Taem did not trust the devious glint in Lockfor’s eye. There was no way Taem would ever be going to the Lost Realms in Lockfor’s company.

  Baek, Forgrun and Taem left the new group of adventurers to their planning, and their talk of future riches and glory – the very same discussion
that was going on at dozens of tables throughout the Entertainment Quarter. Even though it was late, Hirandar and Logan had not returned by the time the three younger companions went to their beds.

  Chapter 15 – A Nest of Vipers

  The companions sat down in the Sceptre Room for a late breakfast. Taem had never seen Logan dressed this way before. His normal countryman’s clothes were gone. Logan was clean-shaven, and his boots had been polished until they shone. He was garbed in a stylish black silk shirt and trousers of the finest brown suede. Around his neck he wore a courtly cloak made of blue silk – an ostentatious item of clothing that would offer little warmth and protection out in the wilderness. The Sodan Master stood and walked as if he had been born to be a lord.

  ‘Before you three say anything,’ Logan said stubbornly, ‘it was all Hirandar’s idea.’

  ‘But,’ Forgrun smiled, ‘I be goin’ ter say how smooth yhee do look.’

  ‘Yes,’ Hirandar smirked at Logan’s discomfort, ‘it was my idea. Logan has an appointment with a king. I’d wager, this meeting will be in front of the whole court, so King Balthus can show he personally knows the Grim Wanderer.’

  Logan scowled at that, but Hirandar shrugged, ‘If Logan turned up looking like he was setting off on an adventure, people would want to know where he was going, and what he was doing. Maybe even swear to follow him. But,’ Hirandar held up her index finger, ‘if Logan turns up looking every inch the settled nobleman, no one will question him when he says he no longer seeks to wage his lonely war.’

  Taem nodded thoughtfully. There was more to going to court than Taem realised.

  ‘Whilst Logan heads off to the castle,’ Hirandar said, ‘You three can come with me to look around the city.’

  Beak beamed from ear to ear.

  Soon after, the four companions left Logan behind at the Jester Inn and were walking the bustling streets of the Entertainment Quarter. The companions headed eastwards, into the Industrial sector of the city, where they saw hundreds of carpenters working in the furniture workshops, and countless men and women toiling in the forges and kilns of the giant factories. Continuing east, the companions crossed the river Treymar on one of the city’s many bridges. The bridge was as wide as a road, so horse-drawn traffic could cross, and was made of grey stone from the mountains. Taem marvelled at how the bridge had been carved by masons so that at each end it had gates – imitations of the true Gateway to the East.