Keep on the Borderlands

by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  “You said it yourself, Eddis,” he replied with the smile that so annoyed her. “Everything in here’s long dead. But, you know, with such a mess all around, there’s just got to be something valuable hidden!”

  He’d search for golden eggs in a pile of chicken droppings, Eddis thought. “Listen to me, you light-fingered little man. You come away from this cave reeking of dead things and you will sleep in the road. Because you will not have a place around the fire tonight!”

  Kadymus held out his hands and laughed. “I won’t touch anything dead, all right? But it can’t hurt to look, can it?”

  “If it’s you that’s looking, it just might—” Eddis said, then shrugged and fell silent.

  Jerdren shook his head. “Blor, keep an eye on him. Kadymus, you stay where we can see you. You should know by now that any cave in this place can hold just about anything. And I’m not talking about treasure.”

  “If there is treasure—” the thief grinned—“I’m the one to find it. C’mon, Blor. You hold the lamp for me, and I’ll share evens with you.”

  “You’ll share evens with all of us, you little rat,” Eddis growled, but she doubted he’d heard her. He was already wandering around, peering into the gloom while Blor got out flint and tinder and lit the stub of candle in his lantern. “Keep him quiet and close, will you, my friend?” she asked quietly as Blorys looked down at her on his way back into the reeking cavern. “This place is—I don’t know! I just feel like something’s back there in the dark, watching us.”

  “I know what you mean, Eddis.” He smiled. “Though, if you ask me, something killed whatever lived here and left. The place feels deserted.” He looked around in alarm as Mead got to his feet. “What?”

  The elf shook his head. “Do not alarm any of our wounded, please. I just wish to test the place. There is no life in this chamber, but…” His voice trailed off, and Eddis could hear him mumbling under his breath. “I cannot detect anything close by,” he said finally, and he sounded frustrated. “But I feel something wrong.”

  “Oh. Great,” Eddis muttered. She came halfway around and onto her feet, sword and dagger out, as Kadymus’ low mumbling suddenly stopped.

  “Hey!” he announced. “There’s an odd thing over here!” And as Blorys came up with the lamp. “Oh, sorry. Guess it’s just a puddle, but it looked strange, like it was moving, and I—” He yelped. “Gods above, it’s coming at me! Look out!”

  Eddis threw herself to her feet, sword in hand as Blorys caught the thief by his collar and yanked him back. Candlelight shone on something pearly, gray, and snakelike. It reared from the cave floor to snap at Eddis, who threw herself to one side. The thing followed, and Blor hauled out his sword to slash at the thing.

  Mead’s voice echoed. “Get away from it!”

  Blorys stared. “My sword! What’s it done to my sword?”

  The blade was smoking, dissolving. Molten metal splattered to the cavern floor, and he threw the hilt with an oath as it began to steam. Eddis tugged at his arm.

  “Get away from it!” the mage yelled again. “It is gray ooze, and it eats anything metal!”

  Kadymus shrieked and pelted back across the chamber, stopping only when he reached the mouth of the cave. The ooze puddled on the bone-littered floor, but it was already beginning to form itself for another strike. Eddis hauled Blorys around with all the strength in her, and they ran.

  “Eats… metal!” Blorys sounded as stunned as he looked. He rounded on Kadymus. “That was my best sword! I’ve had it since before I went in the army! You filthy, wretched, light-fingered, little—!”

  “Be grateful you still have your armor,” Mead said sharply as the man paused for words. “And the metal buckle of the belt that holds up your pants. Jerdren,” he added, “it seems to me that the storm is moving on. So, unless you know how to stop gray ooze, we had better get out of here. That thing knows we are here, and I have nothing that will even slow it!”

  “Out,” Jerdren ordered sharply. “Everyone, out—now!”

  It was still raining heavily, and the wind blew hard, tearing small branches free to pelt down on the company as it wrapped sodden cloaks around their legs. But the storm was as short-lived as it was fierce. By the time they reached the road, the rain had turned to a thin drizzle, and the sky overhead was a deep blue.

  It took time to get a fire going, since all their wood was soaked. The company devoured the bland mess their provisioner cooked up for them, then spent the remaining daylight hours tending to minor wounds, drying cloaks and blankets. One of the Keep men brewed hot mulled wine.

  “Wonder where our big, bad hero wound up,” Eddis remarked sourly as she sipped the spicy, steaming liquid. “One muscle-bound brute and a handful of weakened monsters taking on an orc den? He must be mad.”

  Jerdren shrugged. “Really? He impressed me. Think how long those bugbears held him, and somehow he kept himself fit and fed, ready to fight his way out if he got the chance.”

  “I hope he will work off his rage against his captors, if he comes here,” M’Baddah said. “But against so many orcs—”

  “Wasn’t so many as all that.” Hebold’s voice boomed out.

  Eddis snarled a wordless curse as the man strode into the firelight.

  “Lost most of my allies, worse luck, but I did all right myself. Just look here!”

  He hauled a length of rope from his belt. Eddis peered at his hand, realized what she was looking at, and thrust Flerys behind her. Severed orc hands were strung on the rope.

  The “hero” grinned at her proudly, then looked at Jerdren, his chest expanding.

  “Jerdren, isn’t it?” Hebold asked. “Thought you might be camped hereabouts—this was the safest spot we found, anyway.” He brandished his trophy. “Proof of my kills.”

  Eddis glared at him, her eyes narrow slits. “Get that mess out of this camp. Now!”

  He stared at her blankly.

  Eddis freed up a dagger and bared her teeth. “Far, far out of camp! Or you can take yourself back to that bugbear cell and lock yourself in, for all of me, but you won’t stay here!”

  He took a step forward and scowled. Eddis held her ground, jaw set, and freed up another dagger.

  “Woman,” he snarled, “where I come from, your kind tend fires, provide pleasure, and nurse babes.”

  “Go back there, then,” Eddis overrode him. “In this company, Jerdren and I are equals. Captains. If you’re thinking of fighting with us, or even staying here the night, you’d better remember that.”

  Hebold gazed down at her for a long, utterly still moment, then turned and strode from camp.

  “Nice going, Eddis,” her co-captain said mildly. “He’s big and tough, a good fighter, and he knows more about these caves than we do. And you’ve alienated him.”

  Blorys caught hold of her shoulders. “Are you mad, woman? He’s big enough to break you in half!”

  “He won’t, Blor. Don’t you know? The gods protect the mad,” Eddis replied.

  Blorys laughed quietly. Jerdren shook his head and went off after Hebold.

  She sighed faintly. “I’m just glad we got all that silver out of sight before he showed up. I don’t trust him.”

  She looked up as Jerdren laughed aloud He and the big man were standing together at the edge of the clearing, talking quietly. Trading exploits, no doubt. So long as they don’t trade stories where I have to listen to them, she thought. Or Flerys. She turned to look for the child and found her waiting quietly.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she said. “I didn’t want you to see what he had.”

  “Didn’t hurt,” Flerys replied. “I saw, but bandits took hands sometimes.” She shrugged. “Is just hands, not anything messy.” She shivered into her cloak as a cool breeze sprang up and went back to the fire.

  Eddis glanced at Blorys. “Gods. That poor child. You think regular guard’ll be enough to keep an eye on that Hebold tonight—if he stays?”

  “Oh, he’ll stay, all right,�
� Blorys said glumly. “But Jers’ll probably be up half the night, trading war stories with him.”

  * * *

  Near dawn Eddis was wakened by men shouting and a dash of weapons. She snatched up her sword, but Jerdren and two of the Keep spearmen were already on their way back to the fire. Jerdren grinned and wiped his bloody sword.

  “Orcs,” he said as Eddis looked at him. “We killed three, and Hebold went after the last two.”

  “Great,” she muttered and tugged the cloak around her shoulders. “They’ve found us.”

  “If they were a scouting party, there won’t be any of ’em left to report what they found,” Jerdren replied. “It’s early, Eddis. Go back to sleep.”

  * * *

  When she woke again, it was full day. We’re waiting for the men from the Keep, she remembered. No fighting today—unless more orcs or other things come looking for us. Just as well, she thought as she sat up. Everything ached at the moment.

  Jerdren had posted guards. She could see a spearman out there, pacing the road. A few others sat together talking quietly and honing their blades, and Flerys was getting another archery lesson from M’Baddah.

  Across the firepit from where she lay, Jerdren and Blorys had Zebos’ map out. Hebold was looking over their shoulders.

  “First place we went was there. Rumor had it the worst and toughest creatures were as far from the road as they could be, and that seemed a likely start. Turned out to be gnolls. Handful of coins, no gems that we found, and a pack of cowardly dog-monsters aren’t worth fighting.” He shrugged. “Next place we went was that hobgoblin lair, worse luck. Couple of my men were full of ’emselves for killing off gnolls, got too loud, and drew down an ambush on us. Lousy hobgoblins must’ve been lurking while we went in for the prisoners. They were waiting just short of the door when we came back.”

  “Heard about that,” Jerdren said. “Still a bunch of ’em left, if you want to finish ’em off.” It wasn’t quite a question.

  Hebold grinned. “May not have to bother. That hobgoblin—the one I shared a cage with, I told ’im the bugbear lair’s empty, and that their chief kept his treasure in chests, lots of ’em in the secret passage behind his bedroom. Fool creature believed me, too. That minotaur’ll do for ’em.”

  “Could work.” Jerdren grinned.

  “So—” Hebold stretched long and hard. “You find much trove so far?”

  “Oh, you know. Few coins here and a few there. We sent most of it back to the Keep, of course.”

  “Sounds foolish.” Hebold squatted on his heels next to the fire.

  “Some fools we’d be if we buried it here and came back to find it gone.” Jerdren turned back to the map. “So… you’ve emptied that cave, and that one’s where the orcs were. And the small one here. Bugbears—here. Gnolls are gone, or as good as, and so’re the orcs, and your goblins are done for. We wiped out the kobolds, first day. What’s it leave us, then?”

  The big man shook his head. “Didn’t get much chance to look around. Still… while back, late one night, I was trying to sleep, and I could hear one of the bugbears challenging someone. Then he backed away, and all of ’em looked flatout scared. Here comes this—figure. Black hood, cloak the color of dried blood. Never saw its face, but its voice gave me an unpleasant feeling. Said something in Common about sacrifices. Went to the other cage, looked in and said, ‘That one and that.’ Bugbears dragged out two of my men and hauled ’em up the stairs, and that hooded thing went off behind ’em.”

  “A priest,” Panev murmured. He had come up quietly behind Eddis. “A black hood and red cloak, you’re sure of that, man?”

  Hebold nodded.

  “The curate may be right after all. He has heard rumor these past years—disquieting tales of men and women who travel along this road from the east, but they do not seek the Keep. He questioned the man Zebos, who said he had seen strangers who passed through his town, and all of them wore dark red cloaks. They did no business with the local merchants, he said, and never spoke to any but their own kind. The curate asked that I serve as priest in this company, rather than either of his acolytes, because he fears the red-cloaked ones to be part of a cult of the undead.”

  “Undead?” Jerdren asked. “Why didn’t we hear of this before now?”

  “Because it seemed unlikely to us that such a temple would be here—so far from any town. But if this man has seen the priest he describes, then I believe the temple must be nearby. Of the priests in the Keep, only the curate and I can turn powerful undead.”

  “Turn?” Blorys asked. He looked bewildered.

  “You cannot stab a skeleton to the heart—it has none. I have spells to force them away from me. From us. Or to unmake them.”

  “Great,” Jerdren muttered. “So, where’s this temple? Every cave opening on this map of Zebos’, we’ve marked. We know what’s there—or was.”

  Hebold studied the map closely, holding it nearly to his nose. “No. There’s one missing. Should be just… here.” He pointed. “When we went after the gnolls, we could see it. Another cave, a little lower down the slope and nearer the center of the ravine.”

  “Undead,” Jerdren said. He thought, finally looked at Eddis. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes,” Panev said. “And each member of this company must decide whether to continue to fight. Such a temple will be a place of great evil.”

  In the end, the entire company—including Flerys, who was startled to be given a vote—chose to go.

  Kadymus grinned widely. “A temple! Think what treasure we’ll find!”

  “No!” Panev shook his head fiercely. “In such a place, you touch things at your peril. I will instruct you before we go into battle.”

  * * *

  The party from the Keep arrived early the next afternoon. Eddis was beginning to feel nervy. Every weapon she owned was freshly edged, and there was nothing left to do but wait.

  M’Baddah, Willow, and Mead had gone up the ravine that morning, to see if they could locate the cave Hebold claimed to have seen. They’d found it, but hadn’t dared go too close. Mead’s reveal spell showed danger and great evil, but he couldn’t tell anything more specific than that. They had also seen twenty or more dead hobgoblins near the foot of the cliff near the bugbears’ cave but had no explanation for what had killed them.

  The Keep guards brought food and a hide full of new arrows and quarrels, spears and daggers—and a parcel and message for the priest.

  Panev read the message and drew Eddis and Jerdren aside. “The curate tells me that visiting priest and his two acolytes have been arrested. A search of their rooms revealed evidence that they are not the holy men they pretend to be but servants of a secret, evil brotherhood. They also found a map that shows these caves. The curate sends his blessings to the company and all the potions and wands he could gather. I see Hieroneous’ hand in this.” He smiled. “Things will go well, if we are all well prepared.” He walked off, deep in thought.

  “Always do, don’t they?” Jerdren asked of no one and went over to talk to Hebold.

  Eddis gazed after him, then went in search of Blorys. Jers had been acting odd—like his old, wild self—ever since Hebold first showed up. Blorys might not be able to do anything with him either, but he’d stand a better chance.

  * * *

  Eddis took third watch with M’Baddah and one of the spearmen. It was very dark and cold, and utterly silent except for someone snoring near the fire, and the occasional shifting of the picketed horses. The hour over, she woke Jerdren and lay down close to the fire.

  A man’s yell of pain and the screams of terrified horses had her on her feet scant moments later. There was chaos all around the fire, as men ran to protect the horses, and others headed toward the dash of weaponry, far enough into the trees that it was hard to tell who was fighting whom—or what.

  “Lights!” Eddis shouted. “You and you, let’s get some lights out there, or we’ll wind up killing each other!”

  The battl
e had moved to the road by the time she and Blorys came running, each carrying a lantern and drawn sword. Three men were down, one wailing in agony. Beyond them, five heavily armed hobgoblins fought furiously. Jerdren and Hebold were battling side by side, finishing off one fallen brute, but the others seemed unharmed as yet.

  The unexpected light distracted one of them. M’Baddah and his son charged it, M’Whan lunging as his father swung the curved blade, two-handed. Blood ran down the creature’s face, blinding it, but as M’Baddah brought the blade around again, it caught him by the forearm and yanked, dragging the outlander onto his blade. The outlander shouted in sudden pain, the outcry drowned by M’Whan’s, “Father!”

  The youth stabbed, again and again. Eddis handed the lantern to one of the bleeding men stumbling back from the fray and ran to help. Blorys came hard on her heels, and as Eddis jabbed at the brute, Blor shoved the lantern at its face. Momentarily blinded, it snarled and slapped the thing aside. Blor staggered but managed to stay on his feet. Eddis was behind it, then, out of its reach and safely away from M’Whan’s flailing sword.

  No room to swing the sword, without cutting one of their own, she thought, and lunged, plunging the point into the unprotected back of the hobgoblin’s knee. It bellowed in rage and pain, dropped M’Baddah, and swung around to face her, but M’Whan and Blorys attacked now, cutting it badly. It was swaying as it turned from her to face this new threat, and it went down. Eddis brought her sword down hard across the back of its neck, again and again until it no longer moved.

  She fell back, winded. Two more hobgoblins had fallen since she had sprung to the attack, but more men littered the road, and she could still hear the high-pitched, shrill cry of a terrified horse, back in the camp.

  M’Whan knelt to help his father, and Eddis came around to steady the man as the youth got him on his feet.

  “How bad?” she asked. Her lieutenant’s face was ashen.

  “My arm—above the wrist. I think it is broken.” He gripped M’Whan’s shoulder tightly. “Thanks to you three, it is only that.”