Soran estimated they had travelled a little more than two leagues when the way ahead was blocked by another wall of rock. The group stopped, looking to Soran. They had expected no further barriers. As they stood, Soran felt a faint buzzing vibration pass through his body and, as before, the rock opened smoothly in front of him.
Once more they settled into the steady pace of Gaharnian Guards until Soran suddenly gagged. Seconds later, the rest of his men had stopped behind him. Soran drew a more cautious breath and grimaced as the stink filled his nostrils. Drak came up beside the officer.
‘It is not the stench of Shardi, Sir.’
‘No, I realise that. I fear whatever smells this bad, will be proportionally worse than Shardi!’ He looked over his small band. ‘Prepare yourselves. Try to block your minds of whatever your eyes see, as the Healers and Seniors have tried to teach you.’
No sounds accompanied the awful stink at first, and Soran led his men onward. Then they heard shuffling and clattering. Soran stopped. The Guards drew close around him and he indicated they cover three of the lamps. They strained to decipher the noises ahead.
Finally, Nomis whispered: ‘It sounds like stabled beasts – kept in a group rather than individual booths, but it doesn’t smell like fengars, Sir.’
They remained listening a moment longer, Soran nodding as he agreed with Nomis’s interpretation of the noises. ‘The Guardian has Shardi at his command. We may expect worse than fengars I fear. Come.’
They moved quickly now, swords drawn and shields transferred from backs to forearms. The passage grew narrow. Soran swiftly indicated the remaining lamps be covered as light showed where the passage walls nearly met, leaving the barest space where a man might squeeze through. Keeping close to the sides, they crept to the opening and peered through. Soran bit his lip to keep himself silent while several Guards who glanced through turned hurriedly away and lost the contents of their stomachs.
Breathing as lightly as he could, Soran counted the number of monstrous creatures beyond. Most were lying down, but several stood on their hind legs and an argument was clearly escalating between two in particular. Soran took note of the claws, the tusks, the muscular limbs, as one of them half turned and lashed out with a hind leg. As its opponent moved back to avoid the taloned hoof, it threw its upper body forward, grasping the other’s head with its forelegs. Tusks scored grooves down a neck, but the first shrieked in fury and thrust its own tusks up into the chest of the second. One of the beasts lying down rose onto its hind legs faster than Soran would have believed possible and it rammed itself between its two snarling and bleeding fellows. Its head turned from one to the other and sharp guttural noises came forth. Soran realised it was using language, the human features of their faces belying the bestial grunts he was hearing. The one who had put himself between the two who argued, stamped on the floor. His head swung between the two and slowly they both backed away, lowering themselves to move on four limbs rather than upright on two.
Soran moved to see around the area where these creatures stood and lay. He could see a barred gate at the far end of the cavern and as he watched, a man moved into view for a moment then disappeared. Soran stepped back a few paces and gestured for his men to withdraw with him.
‘It would appear to be a holding cave for these – things. But there is a guard at the door. I count eighteen of the creatures. If any of you . . .’
Before he could continue asking for suggestions, there were shouts from within the cave. Soran swiftly returned to the crack in the rock wall. Four men in the black leather tunics of the Guardian’s fighters had entered the enclosure. All the beasts were up on their hind legs, crowding together, some silent, some squealing. The men held naked swords in one hand and three pronged lances in the other. One man came towards where Soran and his Guards were concealed, but his eyes were fixed only on the beasts. Two others took positions at the sides. The fourth man shouted for the animals to follow him and to remember they were to obey him as they would the Guardian himself.
With a certain amount of barging and glaring stares, the beasts followed him out of the cavern, the other three men flanking them. Soran held his breath as the last man out pulled the barred gate closed behind him. He let the breath out in relief as he saw the gate had not been secured on the further side. In fact, it had swung slightly ajar again as the sound of clattering feet and occasional snarls and grunts diminished.
It was a tight squeeze for all of them getting through the crack into the beasts’ enclosure. Soran went first and raced across to the gateway. The rest followed as swiftly as they could.
‘It’s my guess those things were not being taken out for exercise. I’d say they will be used to attack Lady Tika’s group. We must follow them closely now.’ He looked at each of his men as they stood around him. ‘At least we have seen these creatures and thus will not be taken by surprise at their monstrosity. We must pray there are none worse. Let’s go.’
Ashta was struggling as the Dragons rounded the central peak of the Guardian’s stronghold. Kija spoke urgently to Meppi’s mind.
‘Not far now, Kija. Another few wing beats and we will be sheltered.’
Brin dropped back to fly alongside Ashta, breaking the ferocious force of the ice-laden wind. Then they followed Meppi’s swerve to the left and it felt as if the wind had vanished. In truth, it still blew but to such a lesser extent it felt almost a balmy breeze. Meppi swung them up and onto a sloping ledge from where they looked down at the approach to the stronghold.
Mim saw, through much gentler falling snow, far below a thin strip joining this mountain with the main range beyond. Rubbing his eyes free of ice, he realised how only a few fighters could hold the entrance against any invading forces.
‘The gateway is directly below, where that span of rock meets this side.’ Meppi’s crystal prismed eyes flashed in the gloom of the mountain shadow as he spoke.
‘Well Mim, what’s to do?’ Lorak grinned evilly as he rummaged under his cloak. ‘If we be going straight in there, let’s have a tiny restorative sip first, eh?’
Kija groaned as Fenj murmured: ‘Splendid creature!’
Khosa’s head appeared cautiously from her travelling sack. ‘You do remember Tika must find the Grey One’s study?’ she enquired, sniffing daintily as a leather bottle arrived in Mim’s hand.
‘We remember,’ agreed Mim, holding the bottle angled so the Kephi could lap a few drops. He laughed as she sneezed, and gulped a mouthful himself.
‘Keep it with you boy. I have more.’ Lorak patted his cloak.
‘Tika is embattled already,’ Mim said. ‘We should waste no time. I will lead from here.’
‘No.’ Brin rustled his wings. ‘I lead, and you follow me.’
Mim began to argue but was overruled by both Kija and Fenj.
‘It will be as my firstborn says.’ Fenj’s tone brooked no further discussion. ‘And if it is the time for any to journey beyond, I wish safe journey and may the stars guide your path.’
Lorak grunted and slapped the huge black Dragon’s shoulder. ‘No need to go talking like that, Lord Fenj. I’ll wager you two hoppers that we’ll have many a good talk after this is done, you see if we don’t.’
‘You have great faith, Lorak of the Garden.’ Fenj’s eyes whirred the shadows-on-snow colour. ‘I accept your wager.’
Mim laughed aloud again, the hood of his cloak falling back. For a moment they studied the once-Nagum boy, then Brin gathered himself to lift from the ledge. Ashta rose directly behind him, Meppi nearly level with the pale green Dragon. Kija and Fenj moved into position and the five Dragons formed a close V formation. Brin flew further out from the mountainside then pulled in his left wing and dived, roaring out his deep bass call.
Lorak shut his eyes firmly as Fenj also called, the tone trembling through his massive frame and into the old gardener’s body. Mim’s eyes blazed as he watched over Ashta’s head Brin’s first blast of fire at the gate which was suddenly in front of them. Brin p
ulled up to circle back as Ashta and Meppi sent streamers of fire into the gate, then they too were flying upwards in a tight sweeping curve. As they came round again on Brin’s tail, Mim heard screams and yells fill the silence following Kija and Fenj’s attack on the gate.
This time Brin slowed and came low enough to land as he sent another scorching blast through what was left of the great gate. The iron hasps and studs crashed from the flaming wood and the remains of several black clad bodies lay motionless as smoke rose from them. Brin folded his wings tight to his sides and lunged inside bellowing his call and belching fire. Ashta was close behind him and moved up to his shoulder as they found there was plenty of space within the entrance.
Fighters came pouring from two passages, skidding to a halt as they saw what confronted them. Mim saw one fighter, grey flashes on his shoulder presumably marking him of higher rank, tumble into the chamber, take a cool look at what was happening and then sprint for another passage which clearly led upwards. Mim slid from Ashta’s back and raced after the man. Ashta roared and swung away from Brin to follow her soul bond.
Meppi followed Ashta as Brin reached the passages from which the fighters had appeared. A man emerged from an opposite passage and stood gaping at the sight of a great crimson Dragon in the entrance chamber. He was in different clothing from the black uniformed fighters and he stood, eyes popping and a faint wail issuing from his open mouth. Kija, behind Brin, studied him, her golden eyes whirring. A servant of some kind, no warrior this one, so she sent only a small jet of fire to scorch the stone in front of him. The wail rose to a shriek and he grasped handfuls of his long robe and fled back whence he’d come.
‘You watch the passages on that side Kija. I will guard these. Father, be sure no secret ways open near the gate lest they try to surprise us.’
‘Ashta and Mim,’ Kija began.
‘The ways are too narrow Kija,’ Brin said gently. ‘All we can do is wait for them now.’
Chapter Thirty-One
Rhaki had immediately known when the wards he had set around his stronghold were breached. He stood in his study, utterly still, as he sought with the Power where the breach had occurred and who had dared such a thing. His mind probed deep into the roots of the mountain, following the direction he had ordered his fighters and the Cansharsi to take.
Emla! Rhaki stiffened as he recognised the signature of his sister’s mind. No. It wasn’t possible. She would never leave the great House. There were other minds he could not recognise near hers. Rhaki clenched his fists in fury and hurried back to the chamber where Iska lay.
As he stormed in, he knocked a servant crashing to the floor, regardless of the man’s grunt of pain as the hot water he’d been carrying spilled over his chest. Rhaki stood opposite Bark and stared at Iska’s white face and closed eyes.
‘If she is not awake, I must enter her mind anyway. Move aside Bark.’
Rhaki stooped lower, placing a hand each side of Iska’s shuttered face. He took a steadying breath and a rapid stream of thought screamed through and past his mind. He knew at once that Iska’s call was directed towards Emla, although he was unable to take it in. His own mind had been focusing to needle its way into Iska’s and this sudden strong eruption from her mind hurt him immensely. He gasped, his hands falling away from Iska’s face as he pulled his mind free of her. He regained his control almost at once and tilted his head on one side as he looked down into Iska’s open eyes. He smiled and shook his head slightly.
‘That was very wrong of you Iska.’
Bark’s hand began to rise towards the Guardian but Rhaki had already placed the middle finger of his right hand gently on the centre of Iska’s forehead. She convulsed, a light blazed momentarily in her eyes before they went blank and she lay still.
Bark’s hand dropped back as he stared at Iska. ‘She is dead Master!’
‘And so will all be who dare cross me.’ Rhaki snapped back. ‘Come,’ he called as a knock sounded at the door.
Jal entered, breathless from his race up from the lowest levels.
‘Master, the Cansharsi are slain,’ he blurted between gasps for air. ‘They had Dragons in the tunnels with them. Smaller than Dragons I have seen, but well able to spew fire, Master.’
‘Killed all my Cansharsi?’ Rhaki scowled at Jal.
‘Of the first group, yes Master. And there are Great Dragons at the main gate.’
‘Are all the Cansharsi now deployed with fighters?’
‘Yes Master.’
‘Do your utmost to protect this place Jal. I will be in my study – I have much to do which does not concern you. But this stronghold will be defended to your last breath. You understand me?’
‘Yes Master.’ Jal glanced at Bark who still stood by the bedside where the Lady Iska lay. His eyes went to the Lady and he swallowed as he recognised only too well that it was a corpse lying there now.
‘There was something else Jal?’
Jal swallowed again and bowed hastily. ‘No Master. I will return to my men.’
Rhaki’s gaze moved to Bark. ‘You have seen death often enough before Bark. Why such sorrow for this one?’
Bark raised his head to meet the Guardian’s eyes.
‘Master, this was Iska. We studied in the Asataria with her. She was always kindly.’ His ruined voice was barely audible.
‘Always interfering, as I recall.’ Rhaki turned away as he spoke. ‘Stay with her if you wish. I have things of importance to attend to. I will not be disturbed Bark,’ he said warningly. ‘No one enters my study until I call.’
‘Yes Master.’
As the door slammed behind the Guardian, Bark winced. A servant touched his sleeve.
‘May we help you with the lady Sir?’
Bark looked down at the face turned sympathetically up to him.
‘That is kind Galt. I’m sure the lady would appreciate your help.’ Bark leaned over Iska’s body and his long fingers gently closed her eyes.
Rhaki was already in the chamber where he kept his amplifying bowl. He fought to control his breathing and his tension as he sat, the bowl before him. After long seconds, he placed his hands around the bowl, envisaged his sister and demanded to see where she was. The deep blackness of the bowl stirred, quickly clearing to reveal Emla pulling a short sword from the chest of one of his fighters. As she raised her arm again, she faltered for a moment and then vanished from Rhaki’s scrying bowl. Rhaki smiled grimly. She had been aware of the touch of his mind and had shielded herself from him. He sat back, thinking fast.
His decision made, he hurried back to his study and began taking certain books and scrolls from his shelves and worktable. Carrying as many as he could manage, he went swiftly to his secret chamber. After several such trips, he loaded a leather bag with his most precious documents, including the records of his genetic experiments. Once more he went along the dark passageway. Carefully he lifted his black bowl and placed it beyond the door.
Stepping back, he cast an eye over the jumbled contents of the chamber then pressed the stones that sealed the room. Rhaki bowed his head then raised his hands, chanting softly all the while. Picking up the bowl, he returned halfway to his study and stopped, again putting the bowl on the floor. He stood in the passage, his fingertips just touching the walls to each side, and chanted another incantation. Back in his study the bowl was carefully wrapped in cloth and placed into his bag. Rhaki smiled as he looked round his study. He would make things very difficult for those fools should they reach this room!
He sealed both the inner and outer doors, then pulled the thick carpet from the floor before the hearth. He had to heave the table aside to get the carpet free to reveal a mosaic circle, inlaid with crystal and jet. Wrapping his thick woollen cloak around himself and a weatherproof cloak on top of that, he carefully placed his leather bag at his feet as he stood in the centre of the mosaic circle. The air seemed to fizz and crackle as Rhaki’s voice rose steadily higher.
There came a sound like a great gulp
and the room seemed to shiver and lose all its air. Then the chamber settled again and air returned. But the Guardian was gone.
Emla sat on the floor, her back against the wall. Just beyond her outstretched legs lay the grotesque form of one of the creatures they had fought. And beyond that corpse, the body of a Guard lay in the first boneless collapse of death. She drew her knees up and rested her sword across them. Her hand felt glued to the hilt and she saw it was indeed stuck – with dark thick blood.
Tika slid down beside the Lady. Emla looked at her. Despite her pallor, her eyes were glowing with the residue of the rage that seemed to have engulfed her as the
fighting began. Farn’s silver blue head loomed over the two.
‘The few who lived, ran away, my Tika.’
‘Gone for help I expect.’
Baras joined them with Kemti as Tika spoke.
‘Exactly, Lady Tika. So we must hurry on, get further into the stronghold before more fighters arrive to keep us held back here.’
Emla groaned but reached up to Kemti’s hand, hauling herself to her feet. She pulled Tika up with her.
‘Onward it is then.’
She stiffened suddenly, her hand tightening on Tika’s wrist, but all of them felt it. A blast in their minds, a warning, a plea to trust Bark, a direction, then emptiness. Farn’s eyes flashed the softest blue and he moaned. Emla swayed and both Kemti and Tika held her from falling. Gently she freed herself from their hands and drew herself upright again.
‘He has killed the Senior Lady, Iska, my dearest friend. For this alone, he will pay with his own life.’
Her voice was low but it rang with true conviction.
Guards were dragging corpses to the sides of the tunnel to leave a clear path; as Baras pointed out, there would be another band of Guards coming, only a day or so behind them.
Soul Bonds Book 1 Circles of Light series Page 30