The Ruins of Melda

by Matthew Cayle Adams

  Lamus was oblivious to the change in tenor. He studied the ring he held in his small hand. Moving back to the window and standing on his toes as high as he could, he looked out beyond the courtyard. At that moment, a bolt of light flashed into the chamber through the slit window, and the roar of the gnolls grew even louder. He looked up to the higher slit opening near the ceiling of the chamber loft where the lone arrow had come through. Nothing more came in. He turned himself about, moved closer to the sill of the window, and raised his arms once again. He closed his eyes and reached within, and again the lethal cobalt fog began to flow from the opening. Instantly, cries were heard below. He held that stance for a long time, until the rhythmic drumming all at once deadened and a great cry went up below. Just then, the source of the noise shifted from the outer window to the stone floor hall below.

  “They are inside,” he whispered to himself. His legs failed him, and he slid to the floor.

  The inside wall of the tower contained a wide spiral staircase which was open and exposed on its inner side. As the staircase ascended, the width of the steps narrowed. Its base was the main entrance to the tower. The two-story-high metal-strapped doors were the barriers that kept out the beasts. The barriers had now been breached. From the loft at the top, the entrance could be seen through the open center core of the tower. The great monk raised himself up and held the chamber loft entrance sealed by projecting his power down through the core.

  He backed up against the wall, one arm extended into the window slit, maintaining a steady but lessening blanket of fatal blue fog. The other arm he held outstretched, hand open and palm up, toward the center staircase. His aged eyes shifted from the chamber entrance to the far wall, where a small stone panel sat just above floor level on the tower bulwark.

  Lamus leaned hard against the wall. He pulled his arm away from the window and the fog ceased to flow. With this arm, he steadied the other arm, outstretched and aimed at the loft entrance to the chamber. A shield of blue mist formed from the top step of the entrance to the ceiling of the tower. He then pointed directly at the stone panel on the opposite wall.

  The stone panel blocks shifted and fell to the floor. An arm reached out, then another, and then the head of a king’s messenger, with his leather strap about his neck, thrust through, and without looking up, the man pulled himself out of the inner-wall staircase of the tower and onto the floor of the chamber. The top of the concealed stairwell opened into this small circular room with its eight slit windows, four at eye level, four much higher. The messenger immediately turned about. He helped another man, who was dressed for the wilds, climb out, and the two of them each grabbed an arm of a dwarf in full armor and pulled him in. Lamus silently watched the company as they emerged from the tunnel, his one arm extended toward them and the other still pointing toward the weakening inner door.

  The company turned as one, and before them stood the great monk, an imposing figure though smaller than most men. He was dressed in a gray shroud. His perfectly reduced dimensions made him striking. The deep creases that streaked across his face could be easily seen as the hood of his cloak was pulled back. His short white hair fell about his head like a round bowl.

  He spoke as the arm pointing at the small company slowly lowered. “Are you three the cause of all this?”

  Chapter 33

  The small company faced the legendary Monk of Melda.

  “I am Hasdel, a king’s messenger,” said the gava. “We have an escape route, through the tunnel under the terrace. Let us hurry. Then we will tell you all that we know.”

  “I am cut,” said Lamus as he opened his robe slightly to reveal a leg drenched in scarlet. “You don’t have an escape route. Any gnoll can follow blood better than a hound.”

  “I will carry you,” said the dwarf.

  The wilderness man untied the scarf about his neck. “Let me see if I can stop the bleeding,” he said as he stepped forward.

  Lamus shook his head in protest. “Don’t waste your time.” His voice was loud enough to be heard over the clamor outside. He continued to hold his arm toward the blue mist separating the chamber from the staircase filled with screaming gnolls. He shifted the weight of his small aging body to his back leg and stumbled slightly, revealing his growing weakness. Beads of sweat peppered his weathered face.

  “I am Quillen. We have met before,” shouted the man dressed as a hunter over the roar of the beasts. Lamus glanced back at the hunter but said nothing. He then reached into his robe pouch and withdrew two objects in his small hand. Without speaking, he tossed one of the items, an arrowhead, to the hunter.

  “I recognized the king’s ring,” he said, looking down at his hand. “You gave me false hope. I thought for a time I might actually be rescued.” He tossed the ring to Hasdel.

  The blue mist barrier shook violently and then flickered. The dwarf stepped past the monk and stood before the barrier in a ready stance, waiting for the barrier to open.

  “Lamus, this is Kellenor Braid of Dalkeeth, Captain of the Guard,” Hasdel called out. The monk said nothing.

  At that moment, a boy reached the opening in the inner staircase to the loft and pulled himself up. He stood erect and dusted off his arms.

  “And this is young Tythan Pree of Riverlok,” said Hasdel.

  Ty nodded and looked frantically to Hasdel, “That old shopkeeper from the Kingfisher is outside!”

  Hasdel shook his head, and the barrier flickered again. He considered Lamus. “You are not going to be able to hold it much longer, are you?” shouted Hasdel over the clamor.

  “That is true,” said Lamus. “When I stop, I fear I am done.” He continued to hold up his arm and spoke vaguely to the company. “I was raised in this tomb, and I can easily die here. Still, I cannot imagine why you are here.”

  “Monk, we still have a chance. Come with us, and we will explain,” called Hasdel. “Ty, lead us down.”

  Ty quickly dropped back through the opening into the tower wall’s inner staircase and began the descent. He rushed down the narrow passage, pressing his arms against the walls to steady himself.

  Hasdel extended his hand to the monk. Lamus stepped cautiously toward the opening. “Good,” said Hasdel.

  Lamus held his hand open toward the blue mist. Quillen and Kellenor dropped back toward the hidden entrance next to Hasdel. Kellenor, without a word, grasped the small monk below his arms. Lamus continued to hold his palm outstretched. The blue mist flickered.

  “When the monk releases his hold on the force, there will be an onrush toward us! This is going to be maddening!” shouted Hasdel.

  “You and I need to follow the boy,” Quillen said to him. “Then the dwarf will carry the monk in to follow us. When the monk releases the force, the captain will drop in and become the rear guard. It’s the only way,” said Quillen. “Did you hear me, Captain?”

  The big dwarf nodded. Ty was the vanguard of the company as they made their escape from the tower loft. Suddenly, he stood face to face with a gnoll. The gnoll held his head down as he climbed the steep stairwell, so Ty saw the gnoll before the creature saw him. They both froze for a moment, but Ty rapidly recovered and kicked the gnoll with a fury that sent the beast tumbling back into his own. Ty turned and cried out, “Gnolls!” as he raced back up the staircase.

  Hasdel had dropped into the inner stairwell and heard Ty’s cry. “Out! Out!” called Hasdel. The others in the company reacted quickly. Hasdel and Quillen moved Lamus away from the stairwell as the big dwarf lowered himself onto the inner staircase, an axe in each hand to better combat the gnolls in such tight quarters. Ty squeezed past Kellenor, who blocked the progress of any gnolls. The gnolls flooded the stairwell below.

  This day the narrow chamber became a cavern of death for the gnolls as the dwarf slew them with great passion. Kellenor Braid of Dalkeeth, Captain of the Guard, became a devastating machine of doom as he steadily progressed through the passageway, butchering the fleeing gnolls with each mighty swing of his axes. When th
ere were no living gnolls in the inner staircase, the huge dwarf climbed back up the stairwell and pulled himself into the chamber loft with the others.

  Kellenor stood over the small passageway exit, waiting for the gnolls to regroup and try again. Quillen called out, “They will be coming up the main staircase now that Lamus is losing his hold.” Quillen shouted to Kellenor, “You should take the main stairs. I can handle this narrow stairwell!” The two fighters changed positions and waited at arms. Ty stood motionless, his long sword at his side.

  Hasdel had withdrawn into a cove that provided some shelter from the sound of the gnolls’ cries. The cove connected to a small exposed landing that protruded from the tower. He stood there with the monk and the boy from Riverlok. “The crossing to the other tower is gone, but we could fall back to the landing. Do you agree, Monk?” he asked.

  “It doesn’t matter where we stand,” said Lamus, his voice trailing off as he turned to face the horde of gnolls coming up the main staircase. “I would have liked to have lived to comprehend all this,” he said softly.

  “Retreat to the landing!” shouted the king’s messenger from the rear, but no one responded. Quillen kept the gnolls from coming up the hidden passageway, and the dwarf captain kept them from coming up the main staircase. The young Riverman stepped between the two defenders, fighting off the few beasts that breached the guard. The gava stood on the landing that jutted out from the tower’s upper chamber. He could see that the battle raging on the inside was being lost. “Retreat to the landing!” he called again.

  This time his call was heeded as the huge dwarf drew back. Lamus’s power had weakened and flickered out like a small flame. The old monk instantly fell. Hasdel stepped to his aid, placing one arm under the shoulder of the aged one. Ty retreated from fending off the gnolls who had made it past the blade of the dwarf captain and took the other side of the fallen monk. The three, with the ailing monk, could not hold the pressing gnolls; they were driven back, step by step. Soon, they were joined by Quillen in the chamber center of the tower. They drew back together to the landing entrance. The landing was the size of a small room shaped in a semicircle about the outer tower wall. The only entrance to the landing was from the tower, which enabled the small company to hold off the many onrushing gnolls struggling to crowd through the narrow portal. Unfortunately, it was also the only exit, thus leaving the company trapped on a ledge and exposed.

  Kellenor held the gate, but even the mighty dwarf was showing signs of fatigue. Lamus was finding it difficult even to stand and slid down to the floor behind the low wall that encircled the landing. He sat shrouded in his gray bloodstained cloak. Hasdel stood next to Kellenor the brave fighter, jabbing and slashing at the gnoll limbs that extended into the landing past the great dwarf. The entrance was secure for now, but Quillen had discovered the company’s vulnerability. The gnolls were scaling the outer wall. Gradually, more and more gnolls climbed higher and higher up the bastion.

  The landing had been built to serve as an observation platform. It protruded from the tower near the top and was held aloft by cantilever braces rising out of the sides of the tower’s walls. Scaling the landing meant crawling under the structure to reach up and over the side of the low wall. It was a perilous climb, but some made it. As those few gnolls reached the low wall about the landing, Quillen rushed over and struck them, and they fell screaming to the rubble below. Ty joined the hunter and frantically fought the gnolls off the stone railing. Unless they could hold them there, in a short time the gnolls would surmount the wall en masse and the company would be overrun. They fought on, but their arms lowered and their blows weakened. It was only a matter of time.

  The gnolls came and came at the company, a relentless onslaught of screams and fury. Kellenor’s legs were cut badly, as gnolls had taken to lunging low at him. Several gnolls made it to the landing, but Quillen, Hasdel, and Ty drove them back over the wall. Lamus slumped to his side. He could not rise. Then there were too many. The gnolls had made it over the wall in such overwhelming numbers that the company could not withstand them. The four, including Kellenor, were driven back against the low wall, shielding Lamus and hacking wildly.

  Then suddenly Ty called out, “Look!” He pointed toward the sky, but he was not heard above the clamor of the raging combat. Kellenor sang out his ancient battle cry, a shrill wail, and it gave a renewed strength to the fighting men. Ty called out again, but again, there was no response as the men fought to their deaths.

  A huge, dark shadow suddenly fell over the tower, and abruptly the fighting stopped. All came to a halt, both man and gnoll. Ty called out again, “Look!”

  Jolted by the sudden change in the light, all eyes turned upward to behold a sight never before seen. Out of the sky, diving hard toward them, were swirling swarms of starlings, hundreds of thousands, a multitude of murmurations. The gnolls fled over the wall while the men stood frozen as willing prey. As the starlings descended upon the tower, they drew closer together, blotting out virtually all light like an eclipse of the sun. The Ruins of Melda fell into darkness.

  Chapter 34

  On a rise several hundred yards away, Kalo, still infused with elven magic he had been gifted upon departing from the Shimmerstrand, sprinted forward to join his companions. The young friend of the Maidens of the Shimmerstrand had surveyed the battle scene with the keen eyes of an eagle. The maidens’ vast army of starlings gathered high in the sky behind him. They assembled from all the corners of the land, arriving at this place almost at once and in such concentration and mass, they darkened the entire northern sky. They swarmed overhead, over a million starlings, dancing, diving, and swirling, waiting for direction from below.

  As Kalo grasped the plight of his companions, his bond with the murmuration overhead took hold, and the attack was on. The massive swarms of starlings dove, rolling and turning south toward the ruins. It was a black funnel of energy racing to its mark.

  The gnolls and trolls, as well as their shrouded master, realized the tower of Melda was clearly the target. They deserted the area as rapidly as possible, leaving the men on the landing to suffer the impact. The first murmuration confirmed their assessment as it brushed over the landing with inches to spare, driving the men onto their bellies. The roar of the swarm was deafening, and the force of the continuous stream of a hundred thousand birds flying in tight formation created a lift effect that sent the surrounding debris on the tower plaza swirling into the air, cloaking visibility near the tower. As quickly as one murmuration passed, another followed close behind. In that momentary gap, the men crawled off the landing and back into the center of the tower.

  Kellenor and Hasdel were nearest the gate back into the tower. They stepped back in with weapons at the ready, but they were alone. The gnolls had vanished. Bodies littered the staircase to the main floor. Next off the landing came Ty, and then Quillen, aiding the old monk. The company stood and surveyed the carnage inside the tower. They looked at one another, but no one spoke; the thunder of the murmurations outside continued its relentless assault. Ty walked to the edge, peered down into the lower level, and saw the massive doors swung open by the pounding of the trolls.

  Then a figure appeared and entered the chamber below. It stepped over a fallen gnoll and stopped.

  “Kalo? Kalo? Is that you?” cried Ty from above.

  Hasdel quickly ran to the ledge and looked down. “Lad! You found us!”

  The young Riverman on the chamber floor looked up and waved.

  Hasdel called out again. “Are you responsible for all this?” He pointed outside.

  “Who else?” remarked Quillen.

  Ty and Hasdel hurried down the staircase, kicking bodies aside, clearing a pathway. First Ty, then the king’s messenger embraced young Kalo. They could not speak over the roar of the murmurations, but they laughed, and Kalo’s eyes filled with tears at the sight of his friends and companions. Kellenor descended now, too, and he stepped past the gathering to the open door, where he stood at the r
eady. A cry sounded from the landing above. It was Quillen, and this time he held the old monk up with one arm. With his free arm, he saluted Kalo below; his salute then became a waving call for help. Ty quickly obeyed his mentor and hurried back up the staircase to take the other side of the Monk of Melda. Slowly the hunter and Ty, bracing the monk, walked down the steps one by one to join the others. Still supporting Lamus, Quillen reached out and clasped the shoulder of the boy from Riverlok. Kalo looked up and smiled, nodding to the hunter.

  Hasdel put his arm on Quillen and guided him to draw the monk up close to the boy. “Kalo, this is Lamus, the Monk of Melda,” he hollered over the sound outside. Kalo bowed his head. The old monk nodded slowly back as he tried to straighten. Hasdel smiled and pointed to the dwarf captain by the door. “And that is Kellenor, the dwarf Captain of the Guard you rescued—remember him?” he shouted. “The messenger did not survive,” he added, shaking his head. Kalo nodded.

  Hasdel herded the company behind one of the open massive doors. The cove gave some shelter from the sound, and he spoke loudly so all could hear. “Kalo, we need to travel to the Eastern Rim Mountains to reach the monk’s hermitage. It could take four to five days. Is there a way we could use these birds you have brought in our escape?”

  Kalo looked into the faces of his companions. His voice was weaker than Hasdel’s, so he needed to shout. “I didn’t bring the starlings!” The company stared at him. “The Maidens of the Shimmerstrand sent them!” He waited. “I can’t tell them to stay or to go. It’s not like that.” He watched for their reaction, then said, “I’ll have to explain.”

  Quillen said to no one in particular, “I’m dying to hear this!”

  “They’ll stay, encircling and protecting me, and now you too, as long as we are in danger.” He smiled and nodded. “And then they’ll leave!”