The Fires of Starpoint Mountain

by Bill Albert

  “Face me you coward,” she croaked.

  “You are the most evil person the Land of Starpoint has ever produced. You assassinated a king and the Fourth Minister,” the tormentor said. “You also brought down the mountain. Do you think, if I killed you now, anyone would really care?”

  “Yes, I do. I’m sure that the Third Minister of the Giant Lords would.” There was a pause from her tormentor, so she continued. “I’m sure he’ll want to see me before the execution, and you know what? I want to see him.”

  “You must think you are charmed,” her tormentor, who she could tell by his voice, was male, smeared with his face next to her ear. “You survived the fall of Starpoint Mountain, a tarna infestation, with the Others in the swamps, how many more? Why do you survive?” he asked, and she felt his grip on her throat tighten.

  She tried to swallow, couldn’t, and forced the panic down inside of her.

  “Tell me now, Gallif. Why do you survive?”

  She tried to speak but couldn’t. Her breaths were more and more shallow.

  “Do you survive because you’re important?” he asked and waited for an answer.

  Gallif’s vision was starting to blur and she wasn’t sure if she heard his words correctly.

  “Or are you just lucky?” he asked and released his grip on her throat.

  Gallif coughed violently several times. Her reflexes took her forward each time only to be yanked back by his grip on her hair. She started breathing heavily and tried to massage her throat, but the strips would not allow it.

  “You are not afraid of death, are you?” he asked lightheartedly.

  “No,” she said in a strong and honest voice.

  “I used to be,” he said.

  His openness surprised her and that she desperately tried to put a face with a voice.

  “I tried to run away from it, hide from it, but now I’ve felt it twice,” her tormentor said. “Both times and your hands,” he seethed in anger.

  Suddenly he was directly in front of her and though she didn’t fear death she feared what he had become. His skin was sickly and blue and cracked as if the body had been dead for several days. His hair was dark and matted and had grown to a shaggy bush. His teeth were yellow and decayed while his mouth and tongue were black. Despite the deathly look his eyes were the most energetic she had ever seen. In them she felt she could see all the hatred and anger of the entire world of burning in his soul.

  As much of a threat Zaslow had been to her before she never felt in as much danger as she did right now.

  ***

  “Kallaf it is the most horrible thing the Land of Starpoint as ever seen, worse than the elves, and I think it is important that I escort her to the execution,” Acrufix said.

  They were meeting in a plain barefaced room in the capitol building in Outbound. There was a flat wooden table surrounded by four chairs in which three important of officers sat.

  Acrufix, the Elven Killer, sat in one chair with his arms she rested on the table looking out from the blank faced helmet. After Gallif had been escorted into the building he had helped secure the gates and prevent a riot. The angry crowd had been ordered to return to their homes and had obediently but reluctantly retreated. After that he had searched for the judge who would handle her extradition and found him here. Despite the fact that he was a human surrounded by two giants the presence of his armor and legends equaled their status.

  Mekon and sat at the table laid back into his chair. H he wore no insignia or uniform to identify him as a Special Agents of the Giant Lords. He had presented his credentials, hidden in the heel of one of his boots, before going into the swamps to hunt Gallif. He would be in charge of the convoy to take Gallif on the long and dangerous trip to Spring Field for her execution.

  The third official at the table was Judge Witchit himself. Despite his advanced age he was invigorated by the case after the shock of her confession had worn off. He had already notified his staff that he was not planning to officially retire quite yet and that all of his responsibilities, except for Gallif, would be moved to his successor. Behind him stood his assistants. Each wore dark robes from head to toe and one held a scale in his right hand while the other in his left them.

  “Of course, I understand,” Mekon said a glaring at Acrufix. “As a Special Agent I will be in control of the caravan and make sure Gallif gets to Spring Field safely.”

  “Understood,” Judge Witchit said that with a hint of a smile. “It would be as shame if she got killed on her way to her execution.” He let out a hearty laugh that died quickly when he got no response from the other two at the table. “Forgive my sense of humor,” he said without real embarrassment. “I’ve found after all these years of being a judge, some of the unspeakable crimes I’ve dealt with, that a good sense of humor goes a long way.”

  “I’m having the militia put together a caravan now and we will leave as soon as possible,” Mekon informed the judge.

  “In the middle of the night?” Judge Witchit asked.

  “Yes. The fewer people who see us leave the better. Judge, you all will lead in your personal carriage. I believe you have it ready.”

  “Yes,” Judge Witchit nodded. “My personal security guards will ride on horseback.”

  “As will the hobgoblin escorts, “Mekon continued. “That will be followed by three covered prison wagons. I will be in the first when we leave but will change from wagon to wagon as we go.”

  “Which one will Kallaf be in?” Acrufix asked leaning forward.

  “The prisoner,” Mekon said with anger, “will be inside one of the wagons. Only myself, the guard captain, and a few of his officers will know which one she is in.”

  Acrufix just leaned back in the chair and shook his head.

  “She should be ready to go soon,” Judge Witchit said then turned it to his attendant on his right. “Find Captain Fane,” he said. “Ask him where she is.”

  Without a word the attendant handed his scale to the attendant on the left, who took to scale in his free hand and held them even, as he exited.

  “Mekon,” Judge Witchit turned to him with a sudden seriousness. “Just how much danger do you think will be in?”

  “You saw the anger in the crowd today. She murdered a beloved king and destroyed the symbol of our land. There are lots of citizens who want her dead. Killing her would it make them part of a legend,” he said glancing briefly at Acrufix.

  “One of my security guards is an experienced caster,” the judge said. “Her prowess is remarkable.”

  “Good, I’ll be glad she’s with us,” Mekon said without excitement.

  There was a knock at the door and the attendant entered the room, retrieved his scale, and then whispered something to the judge.

  “He’s right outside?” Witchit asked. Both Mekon and Acrufix caught and the concern in his voice. With the attendant whispered a few more things than the judge rose. “Captain Fane is right outside. He said he personally saw his men leave the detention cell and bring Gallif up here. She should have been here for some time,” he said and walked out the door.

  Mekon and Witchit rose quickly and followed him. Even before they got to the outer office Judge Witchit and Captain Fane were in an intense conversation.

  “You’re positive she was escorted out There?” the judge asked.

  “Yes, sir! I saw them leave the cell myself,” he insisted refusing to back down despite the hobgoblin’s size of compared to the giants. Fane was very good as his job.

  “Has anyone left the building?”

  “No, we had the building locked down since we brought her in. My teams have been stationed at every exit and the roof. I guarantee you she could not have left the building.”

  “How many different routes are there?” Mekon asked stepping forward. “How many different ways could they get from her cell to this office?”

  “There are several,” Fane said as she quickly ran through the possibilities. “Excuse me, judge,” Fane said as he turned
and ran into the hall with Mekon and Acrufix close behind. “Lieutenant,” Fane called to one of the officers waiting there. “Get two guards; follow the route from the cells to here via the armory again. You do the same via of the dining hall,” he snapped at another guard then looked up at Mekon and Acrufix. “You two will follow me.”

  He sprinted down the hallway, took a sharp left turn at an intersection, and then took the stairs to the next lower level. They were on ground level now where some of the humans, dwarves, and halflings worked. They parted company as the three-foot-tall captain ran through the lobby followed by the seven-foot-tall giant the legend and armor. They went down another flight of stairs and stopped at a dark and intersection with two guards at their stations. They told Fane that no one had passed by in any direction since with the prisoner was originally brought through. Fane ordered them to fall alert and informed them the prisoner was missing. They were too good of soldiers to show any surprise.

  “Captain! This way!” one of the lieutenants called from the other end of the passage. Fane read in that direction coming to an immediate stop when he came around the corner and saw the carnage ahead of them. Mekon and Acrufix came to a stop just a few seconds later.

  There had been a bloodbath in this part of the hall. Four hobgoblin guards had been slaughtered. Their bodies lay in chunks scattered across the hall. They had a puncher and slice wounds on their chests, necks and backs. Fane prayed for their souls and knew they had died honorably. They had their hands tightly gripped around their weapons and had done their duty to the very end.

  Further down the hallway Gallif lay face down in a pool of her own blood. Mekon and Acrufix ran to her and Mekon, the gentle giant, carefully rolled her over. He was taken by the fact that her eyes were open and then relieved that she was still breathing. He used part of her prison uniform to wipe blood from her nose and mouth when she started gasping for air. There was a cut in her left cheek then ran all the way down to her chin and was bleeding profusely. She also had a severe cut down on her right arm.

  Mekon quickly examined the scene to take it all in. There was nothing in this hall outside the combat area. From where Gallif lay there it was nothing else around her other than a blood track of footprints from the bodies of the guards.

  Breathing heavily from the rush Judge Witchit came around the corner and also examined the scene. He shook his head sadly and also prayed for their souls. He walked over to Gallif and looks down at her and disgust.

  “If it were was in my purview, I would decapitate you this second!” he said through clenched teeth. “I will make sure, however, that these four noble guards are never forgotten and will honor them for wounding you enough to prevent you from escaping.” He bent down and roughly brush her hair back so he can see the side of her head. “It’s a pity,” he said spitting on her. “I had some hope that a heartless monster like you would have pointed ears.”

  CHAPTER TWO: FAMILIAR TOUCH

  Gallif blinked several times as she woke. She expected to be back in the dark, damp underground cell and was surprised to see a brighter, clean ceiling above her. She took a deep breath and picked up the distinct smells of chemicals mixed together. She was in a healing ward.

  Was she hurt? She remembered Zaslow’s dead like face in front of her, a sharp pain on her cheek, then nothing. She stayed still and carefully let her senses examine her whole body.

  There was some pressure to on her left arm, completely surrounding it, and she realized she was bandaged up even though there was no pain is there. Her left leg below the knee gave her the same sensation.

  She felt more pressure on her face and tried to open her jaw when a sharp stab of pain rocked her to one side. Instinctively she tried to reach up and massage her cheek, but her arms wouldn’t move. They were bound at the wrists and she now knew she was strapped into a cot in the jail. She struggled to move but found her legs were strapped in as well.

  “Don’t move,” am not unfamiliar voice said as the speaker came towards her. “Don’t open your eyes, Gallif,” the woman spoke quickly. “Don't move a muscle. Just lay there are like you are still out.”

  With that the speaker moved away just before she heard a door open and movement as two people entered the room.

  “Is she going to be alright?” a deep voice that she recognized as Mekon asked.

  “She lost lots of blood, but she’ll be okay. Her cuts have been cleaned and there’s no risk of infection,” the familiar voice said.

  “What about healing potions?” Mekon asks genuinely confused.

  “We aren’t allowed to use healing potions on prisoners.”

  “So, she’ll have scars on her legs and face.”

  “Better than the rips and gouges she sliced into the guards trying to escape,” another giant voice snapped.

  “Of course, your honor,” Mekon said, his voice restrained.

  “I’ve put off my retirement until this things life comes to an,” Judge Witchit said. “Like a stain on our civilization I want to see her permanently removed.”

  “As do I,” a third voice, lighter and lower, added. “I lost four of my guards who were handpicked to an elite force. I will follow her to her grave as well.”

  “Criminals like this shouldn’t get a grave,” Witchit said seething with anger. “She should be burned alive to prepare her for the hell she will spend forever in.”

  “Yes, your honor,” the lighter voice agreed.

  “How soon can we get the caravan moving?”

  “It’s ready at any time,” the lighter voice reported.

  “There is no reason for this to wait then, whether she’s conscious or not I want us moving in two hours,” Judge Witchit ordered sharply. “We will leave Outbound before sundown. Perhaps we will get attacked after dark and have to feed her to the Others for bait.”

  She could hear the door open, footsteps as they marched out, then the slam and lock of the metal door. She waited quietly not moving a muscle.

  “It’s OK Gallif, the gone,” a familiar voice said.

  Gallif opened her eyes and looked up at the figure looking down at her. She slowly started to smile but there was a sting from the cut on her left cheek. Despite the pain and Gallif was happy to see the olive colored skin of Rosario, who she had known at the school before the mountain fell.

  Gallif and Rosario had been friends. They had known and liked each other since they’d met. They’d had classes together, spent free time together, and trusted each other. Gallif had repeatedly said that Rosario was the best healer in the Land of Starpoint with casting skills the giants would be envious of. Rosario had said Gallif’s scales of reading nature were uncanny and could teach others how to tell which way the deer would run despite the fact she had the worst handwriting anyone had ever seen.

  Rosario smiled and urged Gallif to stay calm. “You’ve been cut on your left cheek between your eye and your jaw. We’ve cleaned it and closed it, so you won’t get infected.” Rosario brushed some of Gallif’s red hair back and gently ran her fingers across her chin. “I’m sorry. I can’t get any healing potions to remove the scar. They keep a pretty tight inventory on their supplies. They just wanted to keep you alive and they didn’t care just how healthy you were.”

  Gallif looked deeply into Rosario’s eyes and thanked her friend for everything she’d done.

  “I don’t remember how it happened,” Gallif said calmly.

  “You don’t remember anything?” Rosario asked gently running her fingers through Gallif’s hair feeling her skin and bones. She had done this before and was relieved that she had missed any scars or soft spots.

  “The guards were taking me to be questioned,” Gallif said trying to remember what happened. “We were walking through a hall and then…? A sudden…?” she searched for the memory of what had happened next and it quickly came back to her. “Zaslow!” she said tense with anger. “He is here!”

  Rosario put at hand on Gallif’s shoulder and tried to call her down. She released the bo
nds on the Gallif’s arms, and the younger woman sat up to face her.

  “There was a man,” Gallif said in shock. “He’d once been a special agent for the Giant Lords. His name was Zaslow, and he had been assigned to infiltrate some of the followers of the Invisible Gods. He ended up joining them, becoming a believer, and making moves against the Giant Lords.”

  Rosario grasps in shock. Like and so many she had worshiped the Giant Lords and the thought of anyone rebelling against them was unfamiliar, but her faith in the Giants’ wasn’t as strong as her allegiance to her friend.

  “He was inside the mountain gaining strength when we found him. I killed him, are at least one of him.”

  “One of him?”

  “Some new casting. A jump casting with multiple exits so he can make copies of himself.”

  Rosario’s mind was racing. The idea was almost frightening, yet she could see how it could work. She froze as she imagined the possibilities and was horrified by the consequences.

  “We fought and killed the second one in the swamps. There is a third one here.”

  “Gallif slowdown. I don’t understand what all you’re saying. I don’t know for sure what you’ve been doing. Yet, somehow, I knew that you had some things to do with the fall of Starpoint Mountain when you came back to the school but kept everything a secret if,” Rosario said shaking her head.

  Gallif knew Rosario was telling the truth. She breathed deeply and slowed her thoughts so she could tell what happened in the correct order.

  “All I knew was she left the school and headed to Spring Field,” Rosario continued. “The dwarf, Jacobus, and Luvin left the next day. Did they find you?”

  Gallif felt as if her heart had stopped for a brief second as a reminder of what had happened to Luvin. How he had been betrayed by Acrufix. How he had been betrayed by her. Rosario could see the pain and Gallif’s eyes and hugged her to comfort her in the loss to.