That was enough to draw the young men’s attention.
“There once was a fair princess named Karsen. She was as beautiful as a flower, and as tender as a babe. The farms around her father’s kingdom were constantly being bothered by a cattle-stealing troll that was as mangy and mean as the day is long. The king had his knights, and they had their proud horses, and nearly every day they rode out to fight with the beast. At night the horses all gossiped around the stalls of the royal stable, each bragging about one feat or another that they’d performed afield.” Borg resituated himself and took a sip of the dwarf’s liquor.
“Well, one day, the stableman’s cart-nag gave birth to a pony. It was the ugliest pony to ever be born. All black-and-white spotted like a milk cow, with a huge lump on its head between its ears. The knight’s horses all made fun of the ugly pony, calling it names and teasing it to tears every day.”
“Then one day the princess came to see the ugly pony she’d heard the knights talking about at her father’s table. When she came into the barn, the other horses were calling the poor teary-eyed colt names like “lumpy head”, and “milk horse”. The princess felt so bad for the creature that she asked her father if it could stay in the garden, away from the mean old destriers.
“Her father, unable to deny Karsen her heart’s desires, commanded that a single stable stall be built in the corner of the garden yard for the ugly animal.
“Every day, Princess Karsen came and visited the colt and they became fast friends. When it was big enough to ride, she rode it around the garden and inside the bailey. She treated the ugly steed as if it were the most magnificent stallion in the realm. Soon she began to see a change coming over her four-legged companion.
“While all this was going on, the savage troll was growing bigger and bolder. The knights could no longer frighten it away when it came to eat from the farmers’ flocks and herds. One day the troll scared the king’s men back into the castle and stood at the gate, pounding away.
“‘What do you want?’ the king asked from the top of a tower.
“‘I want to eat the princess,’ the troll replied. ‘If you let me eat her, I will leave your lands alone forever more.’
“The king told his knights to make the troll go away, but even the bravest of the destriers were afraid of the huge, foul beast. As soon as they were close to the creature, they would buck and throw their riders and flee. Throughout the day and into the night, the troll kept pounding away.
“At the table that night, the princess told her father that she and her pony had heard what the troll said. To the king’s surprise, she also told him that her ugly horse wasn’t afraid, that it would proudly carry one of his knights out to face the troll. The knights at the table, despite their fear of what was waiting for them, couldn’t help but laugh.
“‘The horse is half cow,’ one said.
“‘It’s got a melon growing on its head,’ said another.
“‘Maybe the troll will die laughing at it,’ the first knight added.”
Borg stopped to take a long drink from his pot. Everyone in the cavern was captivated, not only by his story, but by the smooth, deep voice with which he told it. The sudden lack of speech made them antsy.
“Come on,” urged Jicks. “What happened?”
“Be patient, lad,” Oarly said. “Let him wet his voice.”
Princess Telgra was resting her head on Phen’s shoulder. Her eyes were glazed and dreamy as the images the giant’s words evoked slowly faded from her mind. Just when she was about to ask Borg to continue, he did.
“What the king, the knights, and the skittish destriers didn’t know was how much the ugly pony had changed.” Borg wiped at his mustache and went on. “While living in the garden stall, only the princess had paid the pony any attention. His black and white splotchy color had spread and blended until his coat was a shimmering silvery gray. His tail and mane, and the tuffs above his hooves had all turned snowy white. The most profound change, though, was that the lump on his head had extended into a long, curling spike of pearlescent ivory that was as sharp as a spear tip.”
“A unicorn.” Princess Telgra grinned.
“Just so,” Borg continued. “The very next day, the old troll started banging on the gates again, and the king ordered his knights to drive it away. Once again, the destriers balked, unable to overcome their instinctual fear of the huge troll. Again, the knights spurred the horses in, but they refused.
“‘Are you big, strong horses afraid?’ a voice asked from the bailey.
The princess sat atop her unicorn, who was chastising the terrified destriers that had once made fun of it.
“‘Who are you?’ one of the knights asked. ‘Where did you come from?’
“‘I’m the milk horse, the lump-headed pony,’ he said, puffing out his chest proudly. ‘I may be ugly, but I'm not afraid like these nags are. I’ll go face the troll. I’m not afraid to protect my princess.’
“The other horses were clearly stunned.
“‘Is this true?’ Sir Jaxon, the king’s bravest knight, asked the unicorn.
“‘It is,’ the princess answered proudly. ‘He is not afraid.’
“‘Then together we must make the troll go away,’ Sir Jaxon told the unicorn. ‘I must say,’ he added, ‘that only to save my princess would I dare ride a steed as beautiful as you into battle.’
“The unicorn shook its snowy mane and bashfully bowed its head. The princess slid off his back and Sir Jaxon climbed on. The other horses grew jealous and angry.
“‘It’s still got a horn,’ one horse said.
“‘He will run from the troll as soon as he sees him,’ said another.
“‘Your concerns are misplaced,’ the cart-nag observed. ‘That’s no horse. You’ll never be that elegant and beautiful. That’s a unicorn.’
“Just then, the castle gates cranked open enough for them to ride out without letting in the troll. The filthy creature was ready and waiting. The princess couldn’t help but run up the stairs to the top of the wall so she could watch. She was terrified for her brave unicorn’s life.
“Sir Jaxon fought hard against the troll, but was unhorsed and smashed. He was so badly injured that he couldn’t get to his feet. The unicorn danced and sprang, and ran out of the troll’s range, more than a little afraid and unsure of what to do next.
“From inside the castle, through the crack in the gate, one of the destriers laughed. ‘I told you he would run.’
“‘He’s not better than us,’ another of the horses added.
“‘He’s not running away,’ someone said, causing them all to look again.
“Seeing Sir Jaxon lying helpless, the troll bent down to grab up his meal.
“‘Look,’ the princess squealed to her father, who was standing protectively beside her.
“The unicorn charged with all he had. He ran as fast as any stallion had ever run, straight at the troll. He leapt with his head lowered and buried his horn deep in the beast’s arse.”
This caused Jicks and Phen to laugh.
“The troll screamed out in terrible pain, and when he jumped up, the horn broke from the unicorn’s head. As fast as he could flee, the troll limped away. And it never returned to bother the kingdom folk again.”
Borg finished off his pot, but waved off Oarly’s offered flask.
Princess Telgra seemed fast asleep, but Hyden, Phen, the monk, and the younger men were waiting for more. Even Lieutenant Welch and Corva, who were both stretched out on their bedrolls with their eyes closed, were still listening.
“Is that it?” Hyden asked.
Borg chuckled. “Do you really want to know?” he asked rhetorically. “All right. The destriers were all put to plow. Sir Jaxon recovered from his wounds and was rewarded with a lordship and a thousand acres for his bravery. He also took the princess as his wife and, in return for saving his life from the troll, he gave the unicorn the run of his land.”
For a long while all was silent. The
tale was done.
“That was a wonderful story, Borg,” Telgra said. She peeled herself off of Phen and gave the giant a big, loving hug. To everyone’s surprise, the Southern Guardian blushed brightly when she kissed his cheek.
Not long after, the cavern began to reverberate with a horrible animalistic sound.
Luckily they’d all been drinking and had grown use to Oarly’s snores.
Chapter 35
“Are you not tired, Phen?” Hyden asked quietly.
Borg had just left and the sun had yet to rise. The others were all sound asleep. Phen, as usual, had spent the night lying still, staring blankly. Since his stony predicament began, true sleep had so far been impossible. Hyden noticed this and was curious.
“I just don’t seem to get tired anymore,” Phen said. “Nor hungry or thirsty. I sometimes wonder if I’m really alive.”
“It won’t be long until you’re back to normal,” Hyden reminded him. “We’re halfway to the Leif Repline already.”
“But what if it doesn’t work?” Phen asked. “What if all of this time, my not being able to eat or drink makes me come back a starved-out husk.” He pointed to the small but deep chip missing from his shoulder. One of the skeletons in the Serpent’s Eye cavern had clipped him with a sword. “What if my wounds are fresh when I’m restored?”
“What if you worry yourself to frivels over things you can’t control?” Hyden was stern. “You’re not alone.” He indicated the cavern full of people with a sweep of his hand. “You still wear Claret’s tear. I know it will protect you, and you’ll have me, the greatest wizard of all time, to help you should things go awry.”
Phen laughed at Hyden’s mock bravado. “Aye.” He finally grinned a stony grin.
The realization of how glad he was to see Hyden alive and in the flesh, after so many months of wondering if he was dead, was enough to quell his concerns. “With you casting spells, all we have to worry about is losing our boots,” Phen joked.
“Just so.” Hyden nodded with a grin of his own. “Let’s work on the trick of taking a man’s weapon from him, until the others wake up.”
Phen grew excited. He observed intently as they went about repeating the words and hand movements required to cast the spell. It wasn’t that long ago that Phen was the one teaching Hyden. Now the tables were turned. Once he saw Hyden’s alteration, Phen quickly mastered the variation of the spell. He was well into another trick when Oarly’s snoring finally stopped. A heartbeat later the dwarf sat up and the others began to wake.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, a giant, slightly smaller and much older than Borg, but still over a dozen feet tall, strode into the cavern mouth. He had long, grayish white hair and a beard that flowed down to his ample belly. He was dressed in a fine ankle-length robe of emerald cloth that was trimmed in sky blue. An air of regality wafted off of him. He was obviously from King Aldar’s castle. He looked serious, but his smile was welcoming.
“Sir Hyden Hawk, when you and the princess are ready I will lead your party to Afdeon. My name is Caden Bral, but you may call me Cade. King Aldar isn’t expecting us until this evening, so there is no need to rush your morning preparations.”
“Thank you, Cade,” Hyden replied. “We won’t keep you waiting long.”
The giant nodded, as if it didn’t matter. Hyden noticed the carved bone wolf’s head buckle on Cade’s belt. He was certain it was dragon bone. King Aldar carried a staff made of the stuff and had gifted King Mikahl with a dragon bone medallion carved like a lion. It was a long-told legend that the giants had managed to kill a full-grown dragon once, without the aid of magic. Whether they really had or not, Hyden wasn’t sure, but they had given a dragon skull to Hyden’s people a long time ago. It sat in the Elder’s sacred burrow. The brain cavity had been opened for their fire pit. Dragon bone held some sort of magical power, he knew. He could sense it. Claret once told him that not many dragons were concerned with the ways of man, and even fewer of them were goodnatured. Properly enchanted, dragon bone was supposed to ward off living wyrms. Hyden figured that out here in the mountainous land of trolls and ice, such things were necessary.
They broke their fast on the little bit of elk that remained. After repacking their gear on the pack horses, they followed Cade out of the cavern into the mist.
They traveled a few hours without much visibility. Hyden used Talon’s sight, and though he could see above the cloud of steam when he flew high, he could not seem to find a bottom to the cloud cover. Talon flew as far below the group’s level as he dared but he never came out of the mist. At one point, whatever was below him grew so warm that instinctually he began to climb away from it. Hyden finally called the hawkling back to him, afraid that the curious bird would slam into a rocky floor or a hidden cliff face.
They came to another cavern; this one wasn’t naturally formed like the other had been. It was a carved archway some twenty feet high and easily as wide. The floor was polished smooth, glossy and perfect. The walls were ribbed with fluted column-like protrusions that ran from the floor up to the peak of the arch and back down the other side. These supports were spaced every twenty feet or so, and gave Hyden the feeling that he was walking through the ribcage of some great beast. Spaced evenly between the ribs were large ensconced torches. They seemed high on the wall to the companions, but not so much when a giant passed by them. The stone brackets that held the flaming brands were all intricately carved dragon heads. The flames seemed to be belching out of the dragons’ open mouths. The eyes of the menacing decorations had been polished so brightly that they reflected the dancing flames as real eyes might.
Oarly was clearly awestruck by the quality of the craftsmanship. The others were just impressed, and more than a little unnerved.
The long passage ended in a circular room crafted in the same manner of the long hall they had just traversed. The same fluted ribs ran up the walls, but these met in the center of the domed ceiling at an impossible upside-down pool of shimmering quicksilver.
“What keeps it from dripping out?” Jicks asked.
“Wow,” Phen exclaimed when he saw the phenomena. “Look, Hyden!”
Hyden saw it, too. As curious as he was about it, though, he was even more intrigued by the strange symbol grooved into the room’s floor. It was eerily familiar, and since the only symbols carved into a floor he’d ever seen were gateways into the hells, it alarmed him.
“Please,” Cade urged softly. “Everyone get your bodies, and the animals, completely inside the outer ring of the mark on the floor. We wouldn’t want to leave any part of you behind.” The giant chuckled at this.
No one else laughed. It was clear that he hadn’t meant that he would leave an individual behind, only part of one.
“Sir Hyden, Lieutenant Welch,” Cade instructed. “You and the elves keep the horses calm. This process will alarm them.” He looked around in the air oddly. “Is the hawkling in?”
“He is,” Phen called, setting the bird from his wrist to his shoulder.
“Here we go, then.”
There was a sudden smell of ozone and the air filled with static. Half a heartbeat later a whomp shook them deep in their guts. Only a flash of darkness followed, and then the horses were nickering and braying in distress. Looking around, it seemed to all of them that nothing happened. Everyone looked confused. Phen appeared disappointed.
Hyden realized that something actually had occurred. Now standing in the archway of the corridor they had come down were four giant boys, looking like man-sized ten-year-olds. They were wearing identical uniforms of emerald green balloon-sleeved shirts, trimmed in the same sky-blue as Cade’s robe. They wore leather pants, probably elk hide, or some short-haired goat skin. Their boots were shin-high and they carried no weapons, or anything else for that matter. A movement came in the passageway behind them and a few of the questers suddenly realized that they weren’t where they were before. A deep breath told Hyden that the quality of the air had even changed, from thin and frigid to
thick and steamy.
“That was interesting,” Lieutenant Welch said. “How far did we travel?”
Cade indicated that he heard the question and would explain shortly. First he gave them some instruction. “These pages will take the animals to a place where they can rest and graze. They will bring your things over to the guest quarters. Take anything you may need in the next few hours with you. We will be crossing the Cauldron. It’s slow going and visibility is poor.”
Cade then turned to Lieutenant Welch and spoke directly. “We have teleported from the Southern Ridgeway marker down to the Outer Moat marker. To answer your question, we have moved five miles as the crow flies, thus avoiding an estimated eighteen miles of hiking up and down the freezing rocks.”
“You have my most sincere appreciation,” Oarly said, before he started filling several flasks and bladder skins from another small keg he had cleverly hidden in one of the horse packs.
“It’s all right, Spike,” Phen was saying. The whoomp of teleporting had caused the lyna cat to puff up into a prickly ball in Phen’s shagmar coat pocket. If Phen’s skin hadn’t been petrified, he’d have probably been picking sharp quills out of his hand.
“Oh, come to me, Spike,” Telgra said, as if talking to a baby. “It’s going to be all right, little one.”
“Be careful,” both Corva and Phen said at the same time, causing them to share an awkward look. The princess paid neither of them any attention. At her gentle touch, Spike relaxed, and already she was toting him carefully away in her arms.
Dostin seemed terrified. He was clutching the thick oak staff he’d been carrying tightly in his hands. He looked ready to fight. Corva had to urge him along as Cade led them through a passageway almost like the first one they’d traversed. The only difference Hyden noticed was that the ornate sconces mounted between the ribs on the walls were made to resemble the cupped hand of some long-clawed creature. Flames leapt and danced up out of the palm. These were the tamer flames of some sort of oil lamp, instead of the harsh, smoky torches in the other corridor.
The Wizard and the Warlord (The Wardstone Trilogy Book Three) Page 27