“My God, look at it,” Sir William exclaimed, prompting Aiden to look through the trees towards the city. The black, pulsating clouds continued to churn in the skies above, and flashes of lightning crackled every few seconds.
“How is it possible for mere mortals to generate such power,” Aiden said without emotion.
“Even if the entire conclave focused their will, this would be difficult to achieve,” Maggie explained with a slight crease of her forehead. “I have never before seen such power. Though it won’t last long, the intensity of the storm will cause extensive damage to the city.”
“We should keep moving,” Sir William advised. “Every moment we delay, the people of Amalis are imperilled.” Maggie nodded, and together they turned and continued through the forest. It wasn’t long before the druid’s warning about the changing terrain became apparent. The ground was lightly dusted in snow, masking frozen pools of swampy water. Maggie guided Thorn through the sad-looking trees drooping over the landscape, their branches bare as they awaited the turning of the seasons.
Aiden did his best to guide his horse along the same path as the tiger, trusting in Maggie’s ability to guide them through the swamp without falling into a pocket of icy water. It was slow going for the next hour and Aiden chafed at the delay, wondering how many lives were being lost back at the city.
An eerie silence descended upon them as they moved like ghosts through the barren swampland, until the faint hint of voices could be heard somewhere ahead.
“I hear them chanting,” she whispered as they came to a halt. “We need to disrupt the ceremony.”
“I recall they chased you out of here when you objected to their ‘new direction,’” Aiden remarked quietly. “Can we expect a hostile reception?”
“Undoubtedly,” she replied grimly, slipping down the side of the tiger and landing without sound on the soft snow. “Once the conjuration is disrupted, they will have only a few moments to recommence the ceremony or it will be lost.”
“They cannot be allowed to start it again,” Sir William stated, lowering his visor and stroking Bastion’s side. “Though it pains me to say it, we must break them.”
“I had hoped to have one last attempt to dissuade them from this insanity,” Maggie lamented, “but there’s no point dwelling on what might have been. If we have to kill them to protect the city, then so be it.”
“I have one question before we head in,” Ronan said as he dismounted and took out his short bow. “Will your god answer your prayers, or theirs?”
“Nature doesn’t play favourites,” Maggie answered evenly, taking out her green crystal. “It will be survival of the fittest.”
“Lovely,” Ronan grumbled.
Thorn suddenly growled as he sniffed at the air, and the answering snarl of another animal nearby could be heard. Aiden froze as a huge dark wolf loped into view, its yellow eyes gazing steadily at the small group.
From the opposite direction, another wolf appeared, and another, until five dire wolves took up position around them. Aiden’s horse screamed and reared at the presence of the predators, as did Ronan’s mount. They bolted at full speed through a gap between the monstrous wolves. Aiden silently cursed as the horse took most of his supplies with it.
Five pairs of yellow canine eyes watched the horses flee then turned their focus onto Aiden and his companions with a display of uncanny intelligence. Through the frozen swamp, the pounding of heavy paws upon the ground could be heard and a bellowing roar split the air. Aiden watched incredulously as a bear, larger than the biggest grizzly he had ever seen bounded into view.
“What the hell is that thing,” Ronan muttered in disbelief, gripping his bow tightly.
“Dire bear,” Maggie replied curtly. “I was dreading this moment. He belongs to Bowen, one of the most influential druids in the sect, and part of his rise to power was acquiring that bear as a companion.” Maggie took a few cautious steps forward, moving slowly so as not to provoke a response from the encircling animals. “Titan! Be gone from here and bother us no more.” she shouted at the bear, which replied with an ominous growl.
“Was that supposed to work?” Ronan uttered as the ring of animals started to close in.
“I thought it was worth a try,” Maggie shrugged, drawing her tiny sword.
“They send their minions to stall for time, instead of facing us themselves,” Sir William remarked, unperturbed. “Let us show them the error of their ways.” With a quick snap of her wrist, Maggie set Thorn loose, and the tiger let out a defiant roar before charging straight at the lead wolf. A brief flash of green energy enveloped the tiger as the raelani druid empowered the great cat with a prayer.
Sir William drew Solas Aingeal and held his shield tightly, as Bastion reared on his hind legs, kicking at the air. The huge warhorse did not show any fear of the beasts as he carried the knight straight towards the giant dire bear, churning up the snow as Sir William held his sword ready to strike.
Ronan quickly loosed an arrow into the side of the dire bear as it pounded through the snow. Aiden saw a second dire wolf move in to assist its cousin against Thorn, so he decided to help out the white tiger by aiming his sceptre at the rushing wolf and speaking the command word.
A brilliant shaft of light scorched the wolf along its flank, igniting its fur and sending it howling into the snow. It rolled around to extinguish the flames and then bolted into the trees. A grey-brown flash of colour dashed past Aiden as another wolf pounced on Maggie, bowling her into the snow and batting her around like a toy. Aiden was about to go to her aid until he was intercepted by another wolf.
Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, Aiden summoned his force shield and he suspected the beast would not see it. As it gnashed and bit at him, it fell against the shield harmlessly each time and Aiden was quick to capitalise, chopping at the wolf before it could recover.
Two arrows appeared in the side of the wolf in quick succession, serving only to anger it further as it sought to find a way past the shield. As Aiden stumbled backwards, one of the other wolves appeared from behind and lunged at the wounded beast, latching on with its powerful jaws and tearing away at flesh and bone. Aiden whirled around to see that Maggie was on her feet again, sporting a number of long scratches across her face.
“I was able to convince her that we’re her friends,” Maggie answered the unasked question as she raised her crystal and began whispering another prayer. Turning to Sir William, Aiden saw that the knight continuing to spar with the dire bear. Numerous cuts and long gashes were visible along the bear’s flank as Bastion charged past, allowing Sir William to deliver broad swings at the beast and move out of range before it could respond.
The bear appeared to be a fast learner, however. As the knight came around for another pass, it reached out and swiped at him. Its talons scraped along his shield, narrowly missing Sir William’s body.
Aiden was momentarily distracted by a cry from Ronan, who was running from the last of the wolves. In desperation, he ran straight at one of the nearby trees and continued to run directly up the side, his enchanted boots ensuring a steady grip on the vertical surface. The wolf saw what was happening and lunged at the sailor, grabbing his longcoat in its jaws just before he passed out of range.
Aiden bolted forward as fast as conditions would allow, sword at the ready. As the wolf thrashed about, Aiden stabbed it in the flank with his blade. As it howled in pain and turned about to attack him, Aiden recovered from his strike and slashed across the dire wolf’s jaw, shattering tooth and bone. The crippled wolf whimpered and thrashed about, so Aiden grimly raised his sword high and drove the point into its skull to end its suffering.
“Focus on the bear,” he called up to a much-relieved Ronan, who found a decent perch in the tree, and levelled his bow at the monstrous beast. Maggie watched carefully as Thorn wrestled with the pack leader in a vicious tumble of white and grey fur. Both animals were covered in welts and gashes, while the wolf Maggie had charmed joined in harass
ing the great bear.
Titan ignored them all as it lunged at the wolf and clamped its massive jaws around its throat. The wolf yelped in pain as it was held by the bear’s immense strength. Its life quickly ended with a sickening crack of its neck.
The bear roared in triumph and reared up on its hind legs, towering over the battlefield with its deadly paws at the ready. Sir William, unperturbed by the sixteen-foot monster looming over him, charged forward and delivered a powerful blow. Anticipating the attack, Titan lashed out with one great paw and delivered a solid hit that knocked Sir William from his saddle into a snowdrift.
“Maggie, we need you!” Aiden called as he hurried forward. A glimmer of armour amidst the snow caught his attention, and he was relieved to see the knight was still moving after the heavy fall.
“We’re coming,” Maggie called back. Aiden turned to see the druid and her tiger bounding forward. Blood matted Thorn’s fine white fur — some of it his, some of it from the pack leader. She landed on the ground near Sir William as the giant bear bellowed, injured, yet still ready to fight. Thorn positioned himself in front of Maggie, growling cautiously as the two beasts sized each other up.
“Bowen! I know you can hear me,” Maggie shouted to the forest. “Call him off, or we’ll slowly cut your precious pet into ribbons!” There was no reply to her request. A long, tense moment passed before the bear finally uttered a mournful growl and lowered itself to all fours, as it turned and ambled away.
Thorn wasn’t having any of that, however. The big cat leaped forward, startling Titan into a run with the tiger in close pursuit.
“Nice move,” Aiden complimented Maggie.
“That was a gamble, but it paid off,” she replied as she went to Sir William’s side. The knight slowly sat upright, clutching at his right shoulder in pain.
“He packed quite a wallop,” the old knight complained, his voice tense with the strain. “I hope you won’t think less of me if I pray we never encounter his like again.”
“That’d be just fine by me,” Ronan agreed, retrieving arrows from the field.
“It’s a minor wound, I can fix that,” Maggie surmised after a quick examination.
“It’s nothing, I’ve had worse,” Sir William responded with a shrug, as Bastion trotted over to his side and nuzzled him fondly. The ground began to shake from a tremor at that moment, and a wall of ice rapidly emerged out of the ground, rising twenty feet above them. The wall curved around, and although the top remained open, they were effectively sealed into a prison of ice several feet thick.
“Well played, Bowen,” Maggie murmured to herself, her shoulders sagging in defeat.
Chapter Nine
There was an undercurrent of tension in the air as Tosh led Pacian and the others through the upper level streets of Stonegaard. More than once he was jostled by a passing dwarf, or shouted at from a nearby street vendor. When asked to translate, Tosh explained that most of the shouts were supporting the uprising, to which Pacian and the ladies were associated.
The squad of soldiers around them kept a sharp eye out for potential threats. Despite the outspoken opinions of the population, nobody was attempting to kill them or stop their transgression. When a scuffle broke out near one of the shops lining the boulevard, Tosh quickly diverted them down a side street and around the commotion.
Eventually, they reached a broad staircase leading downwards, and pushed their way through the throng. The air was laden with the unique aromas of a bustling city, compounded by the enclosed design. While there had been some humans visible walking around upstairs, there were only dwarves on the second level for as far as the eye could see. The ceilings were around five feet in height, and Valennia had to stoop to avoid banging her head on the supports.
“No wonder these people are so short,” she muttered, “look how low this ceiling is.” Pacian was tempted to explain how such things actually worked, but decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Despite this, the street was as broad as the one above, and in no way felt confining to Pacian as they continued along.
Presently, they arrived at a squat building carved out of the surrounding stone, braced by columns and with a wide, sweeping entrance. Half a dozen guards stood out front, encased in the magnificent plate armour Pacian and bearing weapons that shone with the tell-tale properties of vythir. Colourful banners were draped above the door, depicting the heraldic symbols of dwarven clans. One of them was more prominent than the others — most likely the banner of clan MacTavish.
“This be the halls o’ the king,” Tosh explained. “I’ll leave me lads out here, while we head in to speak with King Sulinus.” The sergeant barked out a few orders to his men, and then gestured for the ladies to head in first. Before they could pass through the great doors, the guards gave them a quick check to ensure they were not carrying weapons. When Pacian tried to breeze past they had no hesitation about checking him from head to toe.
“Bloody hell, this one’s bristling with knives,” one of the guards muttered as he pulled weapon after weapon out of Pacian’s leathers and dropped them to the ground. Tosh and the ladies glared at him accusingly, to which he replied with a casual shrug.
After he’d been relieved of his weapons, they were allowed inside. Valennia fell into step alongside Pacian, and had a few words of wisdom for him.
“If you had given me your knives, I could have hid them on my body,” she whispered. “The men of your cities are reluctant to search a woman.”
“I wish I’d thought of that,” Pacian sighed, feeling naked without his blades. The great hall opened up before him, leading to a raised podium on which stood a heavy throne, gleaming in the light of crackling braziers. Stout columns lined the carpeted length of the room, rising up to a ceiling much higher than the rest of the level.
Along the walls were huge swords, polearms and hammers, hung in places of glory, with tapestries depicting great events in the city’s history draped above. As yet, only half a dozen hung in place, a sign of the city’s youth in the grand scheme of the world.
Upon the shining throne sat a burly dwarf with a neatly groomed beard and a subtle crown of gold and vythir, probably not worth much more than a small city. A gathering of well-dressed dwarves were in the midst of a discussion, as the small contingent approached the throne. Though their voices were hushed and their language foreign, Pacian could tell by the sharpness of their tone that it was not a pleasant chat.
The king noticed their approach and with a wave of his hand, the small group dispersed to stand on either side of the aisle. One of them, the familiar figure of the chamberlain, came forwards to offer his greetings.
“Nellise, it is good to see you again,” he offered diplomatically. “May I present His Majesty King Sulinus MacTavish, first of his name, Thane o’ the dwarven clans and ruler of Stonegaard. Your Majesty, this is Nellise Sannemann, emissary o’ the Kingdom of Aielund, and her entourage.”
“I am honoured to be in your presence, Majesty,” Nellise said, with a delicate curtsy to the king. Sulinus had an iron grey beard and soft features, though his face was lined with wrinkles. His eyes, however, had the look of someone who had fought hard to get where he was in life, and their uncompromising glare didn’t fill Pacian with promise.
“I don’t have much patience with formalities at the moment, Your Excellency,” Sulinus rumbled with a deep baritone. His words were much less accented than the others, suggesting he was well educated and possibly spent a lot of time in Aielund. “So, you can keep yer fancy words to yerself.”
“As you wish, Majesty,” Nellise replied without any less respect and deference in her voice.
“We were concerned when the ambassador from Aielund was withdrawn a few weeks ago,” Sulinus went on, leaning forward on his throne. “No reason was given, which could have been poorly interpreted by my people.”
“I was informed by Her Highness that the ambassador’s services were required elsewhere,” Nellise responded. “She did not inform me of the exact det
ails, however.”
“I see,” Sulinus grumbled, stroking his beard thoughtfully for a moment. “Well then, let’s get straight to business. Is that the one?” he asked, pointing at Sayana.
“She wields Thanesedge, if that’s what you’re asking,” Nellise said.
“You didn’t bring it with you, I take it?”
“We thought it best to leave it in a secure place,” Sayana piped up, her voice quivering a little at being the centre of attention. “We have been accosted once already by throngs of your people.”
“Probably a smart move,” the king mused aloud, glancing at some of his advisors. “I’ll be blunt, Miss Sannemann — I want the axe. My rule hasn’t been the smoothest in the past few decades, as questions as to my legitimacy have never been fully answered. A symbol of the old Kingdom would go a long way towards quelling dissent, and given the political climate in the region, stability is priceless. So as a favour to myself, and my Kingdom, I would ask that you relinquish the weapon.”
“We came here with a specific mission,” Nellise replied in a measured voice. “We seek the Sceptre of Oblivion, thought to have been in the vaults of Ferrumgaard—”
“I know why you came,” Sulinus interrupted, raising his hand. “Like most relics, it is thought to have been left behind during the exodus.”
“I would appreciate if you could confirm its whereabouts,” Nellise pressed, “as we agreed to assist in the assault on the dragon Azurefang in exchange for the sceptre. We fulfilled our duty, and now it falls to you to carry out yours.”
“The dragon still lives!” barked one of the king’s advisors, an ancient dwarf with a bald pate and sunken features. “Through poor leadership and cowardice, the beast still threatens our trade routes and dozens of our warriors lie dead, yet you expect your payment still?”
“Hey, that was the deal!” Pacian said, speaking up for the first time. “We never promised to actually kill the damn thing, only to help in the fight. It’s not our fault the bloody thing is an unstoppable demon from hell.”
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