by John Grover
“Very well. I will see to my wound, and then return.”
Sooth-Malesh shook his head and moved back to the wall. The elementals burned through the Neshing ranks, but the attacks continued. Fire against fire, strength against strength, the battle intensified.
###
Nachin escorted Olani back to her room. She rinsed her shoulder and bandaged it.
“I shall make you your tea,” Nachin said.
“Now is not the time. I do not want to relax. We are under siege.”
“What better time to have it, M’lady? You must take it. It does your soul good.”
“Must you always contradict me?”
“You misunderstand my intentions, M’lady. I have always known what is best for you. Now please, rest while I prepare you a cup.”
Olani removed her rings and bracelets. She brushed the hair from her eyes. Outside, she heard a rumble. She thought of it as thunder, but knew it was the war. A tremor rippled through the palace. She wondered what the King was doing right now. Where was he? Why did he not care of the attack upon his city?
There was a clatter behind her as Nachin fixed her tea. Her back was to him as he stood in an alcove, tending the fire in the hearth. The pot above it steamed and whistled.
Dishes clanked. The scent of jasmine filled the air. The candles in the room flickered to life, flames sparking in the wicks. The fire had returned to the city. Olani looked up and out of the window closest to her. The sky outside flashed, and as she went for a closer look, she caught Nachin’s reflection.
She watched him fiddle over her cup, a vial in his hand. She squinted and saw him pour white powder into her tea.
He returned to her, the cup in his hand.
“You always know what’s best for me, Nachin?”
“Of course, always, M’lady. Drink your tea, now.”
“Now? Leave it on the table. I’ll drink it when it cools.”
“I think you should take some now, so you can rest.” He pushed the cup toward her.
“Rest in peace, Nachin?”
“M’lady?”
She smashed the cup from his hand. It crashed to the floor in a tidal wave of hot tea.
“I trusted you!” She screamed. “You have been part of my family for years. You were to guide me!”
“Lady Olani, I am shocked. You have lost your senses…”
“Stop lying to me. I saw you. I saw you put it in my tea.”
“You are mistaken…”
“I’m summoning the gaurds.”
She took a step, and Nachin backhanded her. Olani collided with the reading table beside her, and tumbled onto the floor.
“Utter half-wit!” Nachin wailed. “I am not going to let a sniveling, weak girl take away my rule! I have waited too long for this; I’ve lived in servitiude to the most passive, ineffective leaders. That time is over!”
She attempted to crawl to her feet, but Nachin delivered a kick to her ribs. Olani hit the floor again, rolling over.
Nachin pulled a blade from his belt and stormed over to her. He whipped her onto her back and put the knife to her throat. “You were taking forever to die… you just kept recovering and recovering. I had to keep harvesting that damn herb in the mud and the stink. This will be much quicker!”
“You will simply be a casualty of the battle, my dear. They’ll discover your body under a pile of burning rubble. He leaned in with the dagger, and Olani sunk her teeth in his hand, between his thumb and index finger.
Nachin howled in agony, dropping the knife. Olani pushed hm aside and jumped to her feet, trying to run. He grabbed hold of her leg and tripped her, pulling her back down to the floor.
Olani landed a foot in his face. He fell backward as she crawled across the floor. Nachin shook his head, wiped his bloodied nose, and started for her again.
He came upon her and stopped short as she held the blade against him.
“Now, M’lady… do not act in haste.”
“Who offered you my position? The council? Have they conspired with you?”
“They cannot stand another day of your rule. They have begged me to rid them of you. Then together, we will rule Bhrungach and bring it back to glory.”
“Rulers of a fallen city. They will all pay for their treachery.”
“Do not get ahead of yourself, M’lady. You are not safe, yet.”
He lunged to take the knife from her, but she jabbed him in the throat. His eyes widened. Blood streamed from his neck. He stumbled backwards.
Olani advanced on him. “Am I safe now?” She brought the blade aross his throat and he fell to the floor. A puddle of blood now formed beneath him. She turned away from him and left the room.
###
The council sat and whispered amongst each other. They waited for Nachin’s return and for his good news. Instead, when the doors to the chamber burst open, they were greeted by a furious Olani, and a host of guards who took the old men into custody.
“What is the meaning of this?” One of the men cried.
“You are all under arrest for plotting to murder me! I hearby dissolve the council of the North. It will be no more.”
“You cannot do this! Hundreds of years of law… you cannot…”
“I can, and I have. There is no more North. No Bhrungach. I begin a new Bhrungach, one that will rise with honor and justice, one that will no longer be ruled by a council, but by a queen. A queen who is strong and loved.”
The men’s mouthes gaped, they clamored about, attempting to protest.
Olani directed the guards. “Any who resist will be executed. Take them away.”
Chapter Fifteen
A few days after they cleared the Western Isles, Pim, Tolan and the others, reached the shores of Norrow. A white sandy beach awaited their arrival, and beyond that, lush, green jungle with flowering trees reached toward the skies.
The ship cast anchor just off the shore, and they disembarked. The captain and his crew remained behind.
Pim looked around, listening to the sounds of strange birds and the chatter of animals that he didn’t recognize.
They walked along the beach, drawing closer to the jungle. The trees were ripe with a bounty of fruits and nuts. Bushes and thickets grew heavily with berries, and flowers glistened with nectar.
“There is a high point to this land,” Panno said. “It is there we must go.”
“This way.” Jodan pointed into the jungle. A path, strewn with wagon wheel tracks, formed there.
Tolan led the way, drawing his sword. Pim followed next, and the rest followed. Shannara stayed close to her husband seers, and Drith guarded the rear.
The trees provided a natural shaded canopy, and the path led them to a huge clearing. A massive garden spread across the clearing in every direction: patches of vegetables grew wild, and stalks were crowded with blue corn, green corn, and wheat. Fragrant greens grew tall and vivid.
The group walked among the rows of the carefully tended and pruned garden. Around the corners, small trees stood with more fruit: speckled apples, bitter pears, and holly peaches.
Pim had never seen many of these fruits and vegetables back home. He wondered how they were grown. He reached out to touch them when footfalls sounded. Tree branches cracked, and the jungle fluttered.
Within moments, the group was surrounded by men armed with spears. Their lean bodies were dressed in grass skirts, and moccasins donned their feet.
Drith raised his sword. Tolan seized his arm. “No, do not attack. These are the people of Norrow. We mean them no harm.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about,” Drith said. “We’re outnumbered.”
“Just show them we mean no harm,” Tolan said. “Lay down your weapons.”
“Are you mad?” Drith protested.
“He’s right,” Shannara said, setting down her dagblades.
Pim set his weapon down, as did the D’Elkyrie, and finally Drith reluctantly dropped his.
Among the Norrow people, an older
man with long white hair made his way through the ranks. He wore a headdress adorned with many colors of bird feathers, seashells, and nutshells. He carried a scepter with blue stones fixed into its head.
“Bow,” Tolan said to the others.
Drith shot him a look. “What?”
“You heard me, bow. It will help.”
The group bowed to the approaching King. The old man held out his hands. “You came from Fionngall. We saw your journey from our homes. You are not of their people.”
“Yes,” Tolan said. “The people of Fionngall are our friends. They helped us on a grave journey to save our world, and everyone in it… including your people.”
“What news do you bring from the other side?”
“An evil people have come to destroy us all. They seek something very valuable… it gives them power. We must not let them find it.”
“Why would you come here?”
“Because they will come here. The great power they seek sleeps in your land.”
“This is very troubling. Come and tell us more of this tale so we may help you.”
“You are very kind.” Tolan nodded and got to his feet. The others followed his lead and got up.
The group followed the island King and is people out of the clearing. They followed a path along cliffs overlooking the shore. Out on the shore, they saw ships and canoes, some rowing ships, and some with primitive sails. There were no real docks, just slabs of driftwood and loads of packs stuffed into the ships to trade with Fionngall.
“Looks like we docked on the wrong side.” Pim said.
“We are still where we need to be,” Tolan said.
“Yes, prisoners, now,” Drith said.
“We are not prisoners, we are guests,” replied Tolan.
“These people are savages,” Drith continued.
“These savages feed your people.”
When they came to an area of rolling green hills, they saw a great fort at the top. The hill fort was surrounded by walls made of wood, fastened together with pegs and rope.
The people of Norrow led them up the hill along a stony path, and came to a set of wooden gates. The gates were opened with a pulley system. Inside, the village thrived. Carts and wagons were filled with fruit and hay; livestock roamed behind fenced areas along huts; goats, fowl, and pigs ran and called among the other noises.
Dogs barked at the strangers in the village. More smoked fished hung from makeshift racks. Smoldering fires cooked stews and puddings. They noticed the people using tools made of bones and wearing clothes made of animal hides. They used every part of the animals they killed. Tolan admired how self-sufficient they seemed.
The armed men returned their spears to a rack beside a huge ceremonial hut, and dispersed into the village.
Their leader stopped the group and turned to Tolan. “Let us share a smoking pipe of herbs and talk at the circle. He pointed to a circle of flat stones with a bonfire in the center.
Tolan and the group took a seat on the stones. The sunlight grew shallow, and shades of purple and scarlet painted the sky as night grew near. Women threw more firewood into the fire, and served everyone a drink.
“Nectar from our flowers. We save it for special occasions. Your visit to us is, indeed, such an occasion.”
“We are honored by your kindness.” Tolan took a drink. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. It ran smooth on his tongue, and tickled his senses. Inside him, nightmare images of being drugged or sacrificed to an unknown tribal god flashed by. He chuckled and drank some more.
Pim could not get enough of it, and actually begged some of the women for more.
“I am Rasa, King of the Cree. We are one of the seven tribes of Norrow.”
I am Tolan of the High Guard from Cardoon. My comrades…” he gestured to Pim.
“I am Pim, from the Wivering of Gonnish.”
“Shannara, your majesty, Queen of the D’Elkyrie. My seers, Panno and Jodan, and my warriors.”
“Drith, King of Glenghorra.”
“Where in Norrow are you heading?”
“To your highest point,” Tolan replied, taking a puff of the pipe Rasa had just handed him.
“The highest point?” There was a look of concern on Rasa’s face. “That would be Hills Mount… where the Lost Caves are.”
“Lost Caves?” Shannara asked. She rubbed her arms. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. She turned and looked up at the dusky sky. The shadow of a great hill loomed in the distance. “I feel magic near.”
“Magic is banished here,” Rasa said. “It hasn’t been used in nearly a thousand years.”
“Well it’s here, despite its banishment,” Shannara said. “In the caves you spoke of.”
“The Lost Caves are cursed. None of the seven tribes go there.”
“Then that is where we must go,” Shannara said finally.
“We know your people fear the caves,” Tolan said. “But we must go there to save our lands.”
“This power is dark. It is dangerous,” Rasa said. “It could destroy you.”
“We must take that chance,” Tolan said. “We appreciate your concerns, but we have great strength, and a duty to our people. May we have your permission?”
Rasa nodded his head. “No one will stop you, strangers. But no one will help you, either.”
“Fair enough.”
“Stay with us, rest, and partake in our bounty.”
“You are gracious. We would love to stay, but only for the night. In the morning, we will continue our mission.”
Again, Rasa nodded and passed his pipe to Pim. The Wivering took one drag and coughed and coughed. He gagged as smoke trickled from his nose.
Tolan laughed and patted Pim on the back to clear his lungs. Pim turned to him, half-smiling. Tolan was glad to see it.
They smoked and drank with the King of the Cree in the night, and after the moon rose, they slept by the fire as the village fell into a peaceful silence.
###
Before they left the village, King Rasa offered Tolan a totem: a bird’s claw adorned with beads and shells. “To protect you from the dark,” the King had said. Tolan tucked it into his pack, shaking his head at the superstition of a magic-fearing people. The irony was amusing, but Tolan found them to be very enlightened for a primitive tribe. His people could learn a few things from them.
Within an hour, the group was scaling Hills Mount, a rocky, tree root-laden hill that seemed more imposing than the enchanting emerald green hills they had encountered.
At the top of the hill was a huge cave opening, nearly rising from the ground like the maw of a gigantic animal. They smelled something foul as they approached the mouth. Just inside, the passage went straight down into the darkness. Jagged rocks formed a natural stairway.
Shannara and Drith took torches from their packs and ignited them with flint and stone. Tolan signled for everyone to draw their weapons, and they descended.
The cave walls were littered with scratches and strewn with cobwebs. Dust and dirt covered the ground, looking undisturbed. There was an ancient feel within. The air reeked of musty, thick age, and stale rot.
As they went further below, the air grew moist, the walls became wet, and the ceiling began to drip. Fungus sprouted on every surface in colors of rust and dark green. Mushrooms appeared in clusters on the ground; some of the glowed with phosphorescence.
“The magic is strong here… and getting stronger.” Shannara twitched. “I can feel it. It’s here somewhere.”
“Are you alright?” Pim asked.
“It is almost too much for me to channel.”
“The cave delves deeper, but our sight is being obstructed,” Panno said. “Our vision may be blinded soon.”
“The stone must be interfering with your sight, dear one.” Shannara said. “Or it is trying to block you.”
“Odd, it’s a stone, yet it’s alive,” Pim said.
“Its magic is alive,” Shannara said.
Final
ly they entered a wider chamber. Its walls were covered in carvings similar to those of the First People. These were different in that there were no runes, and the figures were not those of the First People.
There were carvings of the stone in various places, fully intact, with energy radiating from it. The people on the wall wore masks and were more than likely descedants of the tribes of Norrow, except smaller.
In some drawings, the masked people wielded magic and summoned the stone from a mystical doorway, as if it had been conjured or teleported.
“The stone… it might not be from our world,” Tolan said. “That is, if this shows what I think it does.”
“Hey, look, over here…” Pim called the others to a fissure in the wall, a crack that led into a secondary passage. A green glow flickered from the other side.
They gathered around the crack in the wall, and Tolan gave it a kick. The wall broke apart, rubble fell, and a new doorway appeared. They moved through the chamber, the floor thick with mud.
Pim looked down and saw the mud ooze. It had moved. He froze. “Something’s in here.”
“What?” Tolan readied his blade. “Where is it?”
“On the ground,” Pim yelled as the mud slithered away from the group and attached to a pile of rocks.
The mud doubled in size, the rocks clung to it like bones, and it formed into a hulking figure. A mouth yawned open, mud seeping out of it. Eyes tore open on a bulbous head, eyes glowing green: the same green as the Neshing fire. The thing sprouted massive arms with fists like mallets.
“It’s a Golem!” Drith said.
It roared at the group and stomped toward them with thunderous steps. Despite its size, the Golem moved fast. It rushed at Tolan, who leaped out of its way. Shannara dropped her torch and flipped toward it. She landed a swift kick, but it had no effect. Swinging both dagblades, she only scraped across it, mud covering her knives to their hilts.
The Golem swung at her, but she ducked and rolled out of the way. Drith let out a war cry and raced toward the beast. He jabbed his serrated blade into the creature’s side; it bellowed and lifted both fists into the air. Drith did not see the blow fall.
Pim did. He raced across the chamber, unleashing his fleet, and tackled Drith in a flash, pushing him out of the way. The fists came down hard, and missed.