“I’m having whiskey with my breakfast, whatever anyone thinks,” he said.
“Drink yourself silly, for all I care,” Wamlak answered dryly. “You’ll be doing enough complaining about it in the days ahead anyway.”
Edwar looked over at him. “Why not take some with us – a bottle each, say? I’m sure the horses won’t feel it.” He glanced at Aram. “If Lord Aram doesn’t mind, of course.”
Aram looked up, met his gaze for a moment, and then returned to his meal. “I don’t,” he said.
The gate was about a mile east of the limits of the town and the road rose slightly as it approached the barrier. The wall had been built along the top of a long ridge that ran almost due north and south. It was manned by a much larger contingent of soldiers than the gate far away to the west, and they saluted Edwar with some amazement, and were even more astonished to discover that the man in charge of the entire military of Lamont, below the Hay himself, was passing into the dreaded east. And he was going there in the company of a complete stranger, ten legendary horses, three wolves, and most astonishing, one very lovely woman.
Beyond the gate, the road descended into another broad valley through which ran a meandering, quite substantial river bed, and then rose again toward the spine of a rocky ridge spotted with large clumps of rather tall, thick grass and scattered, scraggly trees. Little water flowed through the valley at the moment, but the heavy clouds overhead promised more. Aram gazed up at these clouds uneasily. Despite Ka’en’s assertion to the contrary, he knew that she suffered from the chill air, and the thought of adding dampness to the equation concerned him greatly.
He called up through the overcast to Kipwing, far above. “Does this cloud look substantial – is there a storm?”
“There is already rain over the sea to the south, Lord Aram,” the eagle answered. “I believe it may reach you before the end of the day.”
Aram looked over at Ka’en and then twisted around in the saddle to look behind him at the receding barrier, beyond which lay the last town, and the last warm bed they would see in some time. Ka’en perceived his thoughts.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“Maybe,” he answered doubtfully.
The clouds thickened and the countryside round about grew rougher and rockier, the trees and grass thinned out as they went east, but the ancient road, wide, smoothly paved, and maintaining its centuries-old integrity, went straight on. The horses made good time on this surface and Lamont quickly fell far behind. By the time they halted to eat and allow the horses to graze on the scattered clumps of tall grasses, the distant, gray line of the barrier could no longer be resolved from the crests of the seemingly endless hills over which they passed.
There were intermittent rain squalls throughout the rest of the day, but the storm apparently had not gained in strength, seemingly robbed of its moisture by the dry landscape round about. The land became increasingly rumpled, the hills ever higher and rockier, and strange, thorny, tree-like plants of several varieties supplanted the broad leaf and evergreen trees, though grasses still grew in some abundance in the low places between the hills. They never glimpsed the ocean to the south, though its pungent scent hung heavy on the air. Far to the north, just peering above the edge of the world, a line of gray peaks lent a sharp, broken aspect to the horizon.
Later in the day, they crested a ridge and surprised a sizeable group of large, hump-backed animals, with shaggy coats of dark brown hair, and short black horns grazing just south of the road. Quite heavy through their front quarters, they were leaner behind, and startled by the horses thundering over the hill, the herd wheeled as one and rumbled into the south, toward the sea.
“Shrinn,” Edwar said in answer to Aram’s questioning look. “Back before the troubles, the wild folk used them as a food source, and traded the hides to farmers along the border for vegetables. I imagine there are a large number in the land these days, now that they are no longer hunted.”
An hour later, to their front, a small cluster of hills near the road seemed to Aram to take on an unusual aspect, square rather than conical in general shape. Coming closer, he realized that they were, in fact, ruins. The horses slowed to a walk as they entered the area. A few of the ruins, nearly all of which were two-storied square and rectangular blocks of worked stone, lay to the north of the road but most of the structures were grouped up on the south side of the pavement.
“What’s this?” Aram wondered.
“Not a town,” Findaen answered. “Too small. A way station of sorts?”
“A military outpost,” suggested Wamlak.
Aram was inclined to agree with this assertion. “Joktan stated that this area was a wilderness, even in his time. Probably, there was a small garrison here to provide a measure of security for travelers.”
Ka’en looked around at the broken, ruined buildings, obviously of great age. None had roofs any longer, and most were filled with the rubble of their own ongoing, centuries-old, slow collapse.
“Maybe the workmen that built the road lived here,” she said.
Aram nodded. “Perhaps.” Thinking of the possibility of encampment, he studied the various broken structures, but saw no advantage in attempting to find sound shelter among the tumbled stone. Besides, though the overcast and occasional rain squalls persisted, the sun was obviously yet up in the sky; many more miles could be put behind them before this day ended. Turning away from the mystery, he urged Thaniel on toward the east.
Toward evening, Aram was relieved to see the face of the sun peering through the thinning overcast. The dreaded rainstorm had not materialized. A short while later they came to a bridge, where the road passed over a wide wash, through which there trickled a small stream. There was a perpendicular wall of rock on the eastern side of the wash, and small trees with many dead limbs lining the stream. Though the sun still hung in the sky above the western horizon, Aram felt that they should prepare camp while there was ample light, and let the horses graze on the sparse food. This would grant the wolves an opportunity to find food; also he intended that they have time to roam the surrounding hills, and secure the area before nightfall.
He set up the small tent near the rock, and the men gathered wood for a fire. Findaen made kolfa, and Wamlak cooked a simple meal of wheat cakes. The clouds failed completely by sunset and the stars showed clear and bright overhead when Aram and Ka’en turned in. The men gathered more wood and promised to take turns sustaining the fire throughout the night. This offer was obviously made for Ka’en’s benefit but no one stated it aloud.
The next morning dawned clear, and while not cold – for they were very far south – it was cool, and Aram insisted that they start the day with a hot cup of kolfa and a warm breakfast, Durlrang had discovered the carcass of a deer which had either died or been slain by another animal, and he and Leorg and Shingka had eaten well. The horses pulled at the scattered clumps of grass and drank of the stream. Aram stated his concern at the quality of the brackish water, but Florm declared it drinkable, at least for horses.
Before the sun had cleared the rumpled hills, they had broken camp and were again on the move. Kipwing, who had stayed once again by the seashore, which he said lay about twenty miles to their south, called down through the bright morning and assured them that the road ahead was clear. The only things moving about the landscape were scattered herds of shrinn, mostly to the south, between the road and the sea.
Aram looked over at Edwar. “You said the wild folk used these creatures as food?”
Edwar nodded, with a sour expression on his face. “I’ve tasted their flesh also. It does not approach venison – it’s far too fatty – but it’s edible.”
“We might make use of them, if we run low on food.”
“It’s a long way to the far side of the lost,” Edwar answered. “And as far as I know, there is little else in this land, though I admit that my knowledge is limited.”
For three days more they journeyed toward the east. The lands
cape changed very little except for becoming steadily dryer; the various prickly plants grew in profusion now, down in the draws and out on the hillsides, but grass still grew along the increasingly intermittent streams, which, though fewer in number and smaller as they went east, continued to supply the horses and the wolves with water. Aram began to be concerned that the supply of water for Ka’en, him, and the others might become a worrisome issue, for the days very often became warm, even hot through the middle hours, and the water levels in their canteens dropped precipitously. Despite the discomfort it would cause, he found himself gazing hopefully at the storm clouds that popped up occasionally in the southern part of the sky, but they invariably rained themselves out over the sea and the greener country to the south, losing vigor before reaching them.
At evening on the fourth day since leaving Lamont, they came to another cluster of ruins below a hill immediately to the south of the road. Spying a copse of ancient and bent trees near the base of the hill whose broken branches yet sported a touch of bright green; Aram dismounted and went to investigate. There, bubbling up around the gnarled roots, he found a spring of clear-flowing water that was undoubtedly the reason for the construction of the outpost or way station. They filled their canteens, the horses and wolves drank their fill, and Aram decided to make camp next to one of the ancient stone walls.
At mid-morning the next day, Aram looked toward the northeast from the crest of a hill and saw far away the black, broken summit of a triangular-shaped mountain rising above the jumbled landscape. As the day passed and waned away, it grew ever more substantial, and as its features were more easily resolved, proved to consist of several disparate peaks of various heights, as if massive towers of black rock had been pushed together by some mighty force and had collapsed inward, forming a pyramidal mass of broken stone.
“I see a mountain to the north, black, and standing alone,” Aram called up to Kipwing.
“It is the mountain of the deep darkness.”
“Are the lashers still encamped nearby?”
“I cannot answer,” the eagle answered. “The distance is yet too great, even for my eyes. But they were there when last I flew above that mountain, not many days past. If you wish, Lord Aram, in succeeding days, as we draw nearer, I will go north and look down, and then you will know.”
“How far to the north of the road does this mountain rise?”
“I cannot guess at such a great number of miles,” Kipwing answered. “But in the last five days, I have seen what horses may accomplish. If there were a road going north through the wilderness from the point where the ancient road passes to the south, they could gain the base of the mountain in less than a day. Alas, there is no road, and the way is rough. However, there is a broad river bed that passes beneath the road upon which you travel and as it goes north, runs very near to the mountain.”
“Is there water in this river?”
“Yes, but a small stream, except when it floods – the beasts draw their necessary water from it. In times past, before the floods of recent years, I saw evidence that the beasts had arrived there by following this river bed, for it is broad and generally level on either side of the stream. You will arrive where the road crosses this river in less than two days. If you and the horses made use of that same route, Lord Aram, you might perhaps gain the mountain in three days, perhaps four.”
“Thank you, Kipwing.”
“I am at your service, my lord.”
Findaen had listened to this conversation, and he and Andaran pulled up next to Aram and Thaniel. He looked over. “My lord – are you thinking of going to this mountain?”
“I am. There is a reason Manon’s servants have come into this land and remained – a reason I believe concerns our cause greatly.” He met Findaen’s gaze, suddenly aware that he had not properly discussed the existence of the dragons – the “winged demons” of which everyone in Lamont had knowledge – with his companions from Derosa. He glanced back at the others, and then promised Findaen, “I will talk further of this tonight, and seek your advice on the matter.”
Findaen watched him a moment, and then nodded shortly, and fell behind.
Ka’en, who, for her safety, Aram kept instinctively on his right as they went eastward – though it undoubtedly would not have mattered if they were suddenly assaulted by flying beasts of the underearth – spoke quietly. “You didn’t discuss this with him – or the others?”
“No, it seems I neglected to do so,” Aram answered with irritation, but that irritation was directed at himself, not her. By now, she had come to understand this attribute of her husband, and took no offense at his tone.
And as there was no need to add to his regret, she fell silent.
That evening, camped against a bluff south of the road, the men from Derosa listened as Aram told them in some detail all that he knew of dragons – his experiences of the previous summer, his subsequent discussions with Joktan, and that which he’d learned of the Lamontans. When he’d finished, the mood around the campfire was somber. Even Mallet appeared ashen-faced in the reflections of the flames. Eventually, Findaen looked up.
“Why did you not feel that you could tell us all this before now?” He asked.
Aram grimaced regretfully. “At first, I was uncertain of what to think,” he explained. “I had no idea what manner of creature or monster had flown above the ravine. Later, when Joktan suggested that they might be these things called dragons, I felt that silence was preferable until our intelligence on the matter had improved.” He shook his head in apology. “After I learned that these winged demons had terrorized the wild folk, and then gone away to the north, toward Manon, I knew that they must indeed be that thing which Joktan feared. I’m sorry, Findaen, I was so deep in my own thoughts concerning them that I guess I thought all of you knew, having heard the warnings that almost everyone we’ve met has given about this land.”
He looked up. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.
Findaen stared down into the flames. “And that is why you want to see this mountain of deep darkness.”
“I’ll go alone.”
“No.” Findaen shook his head in short sharp disapproval, meeting Aram’s eyes in defiance. “I just think we all should have some idea of what to expect.”
After a moment, Aram nodded. “Alright. Here are my intentions. I want to know why several lashers are encamped at the base of this mountain. They are connected with the creatures in some way – the winged demons – of that I am certain, and I believe those creatures to be the same that are in apparent service to Manon. It affects us in some way – or will in the future – of that I am also sure. I think it best that we discover what the servants of the grim lord do so far from home.”
Wamlak looked across the fire at him. “How many lashers are there?”
“Six, I think,” answered Aram, and he looked to Edwar for confirmation.
“I remember that there were six that traveled with the wagon,” the captain affirmed, “though there may have been more hidden inside.”
Aram didn’t answer this speculation – he was fairly certain of what it was that traveled across Lamont inside the wagon, but he didn’t wish to discuss this particular point until he knew for sure.
He glanced around at Findaen, Wamlak, Mallet, and Ruben. “I apologize,” he said, “I thought that I had included you more fully in these considerations.”
Wamlak answered him quietly. “Forgive me, my lord, but inclusion into your thoughts and intents is not one of your strengths, no matter how badly those around you need that inclusion.”
For a brief moment, Aram felt the flare of irritation, but the rebuke was warranted. After a moment, he met Wamlak’s cautious gaze and nodded. “An old habit of mine – keeping my own counsel.” He drew in a deep breath. “Alright, you might as well all know. I intend to go north to that mountain and discover the truth of what holds Manon’s interest in this place. If possible – certainly if I think it necessary – I intend to kill the lashers
.”
Edwar stared at him in frank amazement. “How will we kill such beasts as these? I remember those demons well – just one could eviscerate several men easily with a mere slap of its hand.”
“And yet I have slain several,” Aram said, and indicated his companions, “as has each of these men. They can be killed, Edwar, and they know fear as does any other creature.”
“This is a thing hard to imagine,” the captain replied, shaking his head slowly, but he glanced around the campfire with grudging, new-found respect for his fellow travelers. He looked back at Aram. “From whence do such beasts as these arise? Or are they a natural occurrence in your part of the world? – for we had never seen them, or known of them.”
Aram considered him for a moment, wondering how much of all that he knew he should divulge. But Wamlak’s quiet rebuke came back to him, and he realized that anyone that declared fealty unto him, or to his cause, had a right to nearly all of it.
“They are a creation of the grim lord, brought to life in the depths of his dungeons. Their creation is the reason he requires tribute of young women.”
The men stiffened, gazing at him with troubled eyes, and he heard Ka’en’s gasp of horror. Without meeting her eyes, he reached over and pulled her to him.
Then he looked at Wamlak. “You were right a moment ago – my friends have the right of access to all that I know of the world, and of our enemy. This is both a proper time and place. Ask of me what you will, for the road ahead grows only darker and more dangerous from here.”
In answer, Ruben reached behind him, grasped a handful of dry sticks and tossed them on the fire, causing sparks to fly upward. When Aram looked over at him, he asked, “What are dragons?”
Aram shook his head. “No one knows for sure, for they have not been clearly seen. Thaniel, Durlrang, Alvern, and I saw a pair of them fly against the moon one night, over the great plains.” He pushed with his boot at a stick that had burned through and rolled away from the fire, depositing it back into the flames. “Kipwing, who saw them just after dusk one evening, described them as serpents that swam through the air. And that’s an apt description for those that we saw as well.”
Kelven's Riddle Book Three Page 34