“This is will-giver,” Delgart noted, pointing the sword at the earthen ceiling and turning it so that its edges caught and reflected the magluku illuminating the room; golden flames licked the edges of the blade. “If any one of us chosen, but most especially, Sir Blakstar, were to threaten any of you with this sword, that person would immediately surrender, begging for clemency. Such is the power of the sword of Sir Karble in battle: the slightest scratch from will-giver drains all desire to fight from the enemy, and this enemy is easily dispatched. So our plan is to distract Spenthronsa, keep her busy, to get Sir Blakstar close enough that he can drain her will from her, making it easy for us to finish her off and rescue our captured companion from the sponsu queen.”
The younger members of the squad looked surprised by the casual way Delgart suggested this approach; the youngest, second chief shield Hranda expressed their fears.
“And this does not frighten you at all, Sir Blakstar?” she asked.
Blakstar shrugged. “We’ve haven’t actually tried the sword’s powers against a really powerful enemy,” he admitted, “but we are fairly sure it will work the same way: it just might take a little longer.” He smiled reassuringly.
Delgart added his own smile to reassure, then lowered the sword and began to draw the circle with the sword’s point that would open a doorway of communication to Marilee.
“You will all be able to see and hear Marilee,” Thal noted, “and whoever joins her, but she will only hear and see Delgart and those of us who are able to safely touch the sword once he opens the doorway, so you will need to relay your questions through us.”
The small gray arch shimmered and became Marilee lying on the ground with Klare kneeling beside her; Thal, Klaybear, and Blakstar all reached out and touched the hilt of the sword held by Delgart. Grelsor, Hrelga, Lidelle, and Luthina came and stood around them, eyes going distant as they shifted to the mental plane to watch and protect the others.
“Klare, what are you . . . ,” Delgart started to ask, but Klare cut him off.
“There isn’t much time,” Klare said quickly, “Marilee and her three companies were driven back almost the moment they entered the Mariskal; Marilee, herself, was attacked by something emotional, an orthek, but not an orthek, and not a physical or mental attack. Only breath-giver seems able to keep her breathing, no pun intended, Klaybear. I’ve brought the First, Third, and Fifth with me, and I left the Seventh back in the camp.”
“Losses?” Delgart asked, forestalling the others with one hand held up.
“They were heavy at first,” Klare replied, relaying information from someone on her end, “when the three companies were separated; once they withdrew and the three other companies arrived, we have been able to hold our own with very few losses.”
“Why haven’t you pulled them out?” Delgart asked.
“If we do,” Klare replied, “your captains reckon the Forsaken Fortress will be taken within an hour. The threat to both Marilee and the fortress comes from the southeast, from somewhere on your end.”
“We know what it is,” Delgart put in, “and we will deal with it, as soon as we can get there; we have information that it is the sponsu queen, a creature named Spenthronsa that apparently guards the west approach to Morokolu. There’s more,” he went on, “we have also learned that this creature will soon have Tevvy, and that he will die if we do not come to his aid by noon tomorrow.”
Klare’s eyes widened, and then she nodded. She looked around suddenly; they could hear noises from her end of battle increasing. “You must close the door!” she exclaimed. “Whatever it is has some way of detecting our actions and has. . . .” They saw Klare leaping to her feet and hurling a bolt of green-lighting from the end of breath-giver at an enemy they could not see; Delgart lifted the sword and closed the doorway.
A stunned silence followed Delgart’s action, and the commander sat staring at the space where Klare and Marilee had appeared on the table before him.
Velnar cleared his throat and broke the silence. “Well,” he began, looking around the table, “I think that answered all of my questions,” he finished, winking at his wife, Janelle.
Janelle smiled back at him. “Decisively answered,” she added.
Wordlessly, Delgart passed the sword back to Blakstar, who slid it with a steely hiss back into its sheath; the sound caused everyone to shift and sit up straighter in their seats. For a moment, Delgart held his face in his hands, then he took a deep, calming breath. He stood and pulled the map of the swamp he carried, unfolded it, and placed it on the table.
“Reena,” he said, “correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this guardhouse is about here,” he pointed to a spot on the map as Reena moved from the door to the table.
“Maybe just a little more south,” she noted.
“That puts us less than two miles from this bridge,” he went on and pointed, “and it’s another four miles to this second bridge, here, which is about a mile from the west entrance of Morokolu and location of Spenthronsa. How long for us to get there from here?” he asked.
The others had gotten up and moved closer to the map. “That depends on how many enemies are between us,” Reena noted. “Our hosts were not too clear about that.”
“They did say that they would answer our questions,” Hrelga noted.
Delgart looked around. “Rekor,” he called loudly, “we have a question.”
There was another flash of light and puff of smoke. “Yes, we know,” came Rekor’s voice out of the gray cloud of smoke, “you want to know what forces you face between here and Morokolu.” The smiling, old wethi came out of the smoke behind Delgart and walked up to the table. He looked down at their map. “Anticipating your arrival, we have cleared your way to Morokolu,” he noted, but then he frowned, “or perhaps I should say that the wedaterem that we returned to their natural state cleared the way for you. We thought it just that they turn on their masters before fleeing the area. Some of our fellows have moved south of the dome and are currently changing the swamp creatures back; it’s a pity that your two companions arrived there before we did, else we could have prevented them from being captured.” He shrugged. “Ah, well, it is probably better this way, since they might have been harmed had they arrived at the point when we had just repaired the damage and turned the wedaterem against their masters.” He said this last sentence softly, as if he were speaking to himself.
Delgart brought him back to the present. “So what you are saying is that this area,” he pointed to the map, “is clear, and that these guard posts are empty?”
“They were within the hour,” Rekor replied. “However, those closest to Morokolu will likely be re-manned by morning, so you will encounter more resistance the longer you wait and the closer you come to your goal.”
“Thank you,” Delgart said. “If you would convey the symbol for the telepad to my maghem, I think that is all we will need, for the moment.”
Rekor nodded and passed a slip of parchment to Hrelga; he stepped back into the cloud of smoke, vanishing in another flash of light.
Delgart looked around. “Let’s get some rest now, while we can, in shifts.” He turned to Blakstar. “Do you have a full flask of the Waters?” he asked. Blakstar nodded once. “We may need it. We will leave again at midnight, which should give us all about four hours rest, even taking out time on guard duty.”
Chapter 18
We have not begun to discover even a small part of all the creatures that inhabit our world. There are remote corners populated with creatures that could rival the most frightening denizens of our worst nightmares–throwbacks from prehistoric times, or the twisted creations of Gar’s vile imagination. . . .
from Annals of Melbarth, Fourth Series, Early Lectures of the Hierarchs
Lecture by Sedra Melbarth
The command squad of the Seventh Legion traveled south from the earthen guard post and reached the first bridge within thirty minutes of setting out at midnight, their way dimly illuminated by t
he sickly glowing slime infesting any and all pools of water. The bridge crossed one of the main channels running through the Mariskal; the channel ran north-south toward Morokolu, surrounding the granite dome on three sides and becoming a large, foul-smelling, slow-moving lake at that point, before continuing on its winding path toward the Inner Sea. The bridge traveled east-west and was over two miles long, although only the center and deepest part of the channel actually needed to be bridged. However, since the shallow edges were home to monsters that feasted on hapless creatures who stumbled carelessly into those areas, the wide shallows on either side were also bridged to facilitate safe passage across this area. As the squad traveled further south, these creatures became more prevalent, and one of the older members of the squad, Lidelle, called them the negumflum, which he interpreted as the ‘floating teeth of death.’ They appeared to be relics from another age, thought to be distant relatives of the aperum, or perhaps creatures from some alien world, reptilian, armored, with barbed ridges running the length of their long, sinuous spines. They were squat, wide and long, moving slowly over the ground on short, stumpy, clawed feet; two-thirds was body and tail and one-third head, with most of the head a long, gaping mouth filled with rows and rows of razor sharp teeth; its eyes were set well-back and on the side of its head, nostrils at the end and on top of the long mouth, so that it could float unmoving in the murky water for hours at a time. In the water, it was hardly distinguishable from an old, gnarled log; on land, if standing still, it looked like the fallen trunk of a tree, with broken, knotty limbs supporting it.
Delgart and his command squad discovered these denizens of Mariskal as they approached the east end of this bridge. Reena, scouting ahead, slowly approached the beginning of the bridge, not paying attention to the knotty, fallen piece of an old tree, resting on four broken, gnarled, stumps of limbs nearby; its sudden motion caused an automatic response in the Chief Scout, which saved her life, and her legs: she leapt backward away from the movement, so the negumflu only slashed her leg, slicing through the thick leather legging and boot. The kortexi, in front of the rest of the squad, was close enough that he could rescue her before it could get a better grip on her legs. After a short sprint, will-giver, a golden, flaming brand in the dimness under the drooping branches of cypress and cedar trees, was untroubled by the creature’s protective armor, slicing it in two; it took a full minute after being cut in half before the legs and mouth of the negumflu stopped moving and snapping.
“What is that thing!” Reena exclaimed, her voice shaking as much as the hand pointing at the pieces of the creature still trying to bite and crawl toward her; she continued to shy away from it.
Delgart and the rest of the squad came running up as Blakstar kicked the lower half of the beast onto its back, so that a pair of its short legs moved uselessly in the air; its tail continued to thrash, flinging its fluids all over. “I have no idea,” Blakstar admitted.
Lidelle looked over the remains, still moving mechanically, although the motion was slower now. “It was a negumflu,” he noted. “They don’t usually come this far inland, since they are salt-water creatures and hunt closer to the Inner Sea.”
“I thought it was an old log,” Reena said, “so I did not look at it twice!” She was still eyeing it with disgust and fright.
Lidelle nodded. “That is how they hunt,” he said, “grabbing the unwary person who does not notice that this log has eyes.”
Grelsor and Klaybear squatted next to Reena, inspecting her leg. “She looks fine,” Grelsor said, “there are some scratches, but the leather protected her.” He ran one green-glowing hand over her leg, making sure that teeth were not poisoned or infected. Satisfied, he and Klaybear stood, and the two kailum helped her to her feet.
“Are you fit enough to continue your duties?” Delgart asked, feeling concern and relief for his Chief Scout’s well-being.
Reena looked at him for a moment before she nodded. “I’ll keep my eyes open for logs with eyes.”
Delgart smiled, but then turned to Grelsor. “Do you agree with her?” he asked.
Grelsor nodded. “She’ll be fine,” he grinned, “as long as she stays away from logs with eyes and sharp teeth.”
Some nervous chuckles passed around the squad. “All right,” Delgart said, “double-column, bows ready, and shoot any eyes you see,” he added, half-grinning before turning toward the bridge. The squad jogged across the bridge, which was a hodgepodge of materials: some stone pylons, some wooden; some of the support beams wooden and level, some made from thick ropes and sagging; some of the railings made from wood, some from ropes strung between stone pylons, the wooden slats thicker and thinner, narrower and wider, with no rhyme or reason to how the structure was put together. Thus, sections of the bridge were well-constructed and firm while other sections were, to all appearances, afterthoughts, thrown together with whatever materials were at hand, as if the builders periodically ran out of coin in the process of construction but were required to continue anyway. This conglomeration slowed the squad’s progress, for these sections were narrower, ricketier, and dipped dangerously into the swamp if too many crossed at once, and hordes of negumflum floated close to these sections.
“We should just drop an ice ball into the water,” Thal noted when the arrows of the seklesem simply bounced off the thick, armored hide of the floating monsters, “that should keep them from getting too close until we have crossed and moved on.”
Delgart laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “The simplest solution,” he noted, “is usually the best. The three of you should take turns, so that no one gets too tired.”
Blakstar sighed, looking glum.
“Why so sad, Sir Blakstar?” Reena asked, giving him what Delgart recognized as an adoring look.
Delgart laughed; Klaybear and Thal joined him. “He is sad,” Thal said, “because now he will not have the opportunity to swing his flaming sword.”
The kortexi looked at them for a moment, then he shrugged. “Everyone needs a hobby,” he noted with a straight face, turning away quickly, then walking down the rickety section of bridge. “Maybe I can get some swings in before you maghem freeze them out of my reach.”
Hrelga shook her head and moved after Blakstar, bending to touch the surface of the water with her rod. “Kreus-plotu,” she sang and continued to sing the words. From the tip of her rod outward in an ever expanding circle, the surface of the water turned to ice, the crust thin at first and quickly thickening, locking the negumflum tightly in its cold grip, ice crystals forming among the ridges and spikes across their bony spines. Freezing the surface had a further benefit: where the bridge section sagged into the water, it became firmer and easier to cross, held like the negumflum firmly in the ice.
When the squad reached the other side of the bridge, they found another earthen guard post, abandoned as the first had been, and another about a mile beyond the west end of the bridge; at that point, the path they followed rejoined a path coming from the north, both moving south, directly toward Morokolu. As they turned south, they met a pair of wedaterem, moving very cautiously north.
“Scouts!” Delgart hissed, as his squad, warned by his own scouts, melted into the shadows behind the cypress trees. Delgart signaled to his kailum to move closer, so that one of them could put the wedaterem to sleep. Lidelle was closer; the tall, gray-haired green kailu moved from tree to tree and shadow to shadow until he was close enough. Delgart and the squad waited while the kailu worked. First one, and then the other, shook his head, blinked and rubbed at his eyes with the back of one large, grubby hand. Both yawned widely, still shaking their large heads, desperately trying to stay awake, but both stumbled once, then again, and then both toppled onto the ground with the dull thudding of limbs and two large clubs.
Delgart let out his breath slowly. “Luthina,” he said, “send them to the gray maghem, and let’s move on before whatever group they are scouting for shows up, or notices they have not reported.”
Luthina je
rked once, startled out of her own thoughts, then nodded and hurried to where the two had fallen, singing the orthek; the wedaterem scouts disappeared in a flash of light.
Delgart frowned looking south. “The squad those wedaterem were with cannot be too far away,” he noted, “and we are near the point where the vegetation is all dead, so we will not have much cover. If we are encountering scouts here, I fear the guard posts north of the next bridge have all been re-manned, which will slow us down.”
“They might only be advance scouts,” Velnar said, “or messengers,” he put one hand on Delgart’s shoulder. “Do not borrow trouble from tomorrow until you see it.”
Delgart nodded once. “That is true,” he replied. “However, as commander, part of my job is to anticipate and plan for all contingencies. . . .”
“But not worry about them needlessly,” Velnar put in sagely, grinning and squeezing his shoulder once before moving back to his position.
Delgart returned the grin, and waited for the rest of his squad to follow Velnar’s lead, then he started the group jogging south again. Once they had achieved their stride, Delgart turned to Grelsor. “Are all of you prepared in case we meet a larger group?” the commander asked.
Grelsor nodded. “We are ready,” he replied; “we can cover the entire group with an irresistible urge to sleep.”
“Would it make any difference,” Delgart went on, “if the group consisted of both wethem and wedaterem?”
“None,” Grelsor said. “We can send the wedaterem away, then bash in the skulls of those who remain.”
“That’s not fair,” Blakstar noted over his shoulder, “to strike them while they are down, that is.”
Grelsor laughed wryly. “And you think pointing that sword of yours, which drains their will to fight, is?”
Delgart could not see his face, but he could imagine his expression. “At least I give them a chance,” Blakstar replied rather lamely.
The Redemption, Volume 1 Page 99