The Fortress of Donmar (The Tales of Zanoth Book 2)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  After this arguably disgusting, but undeniably delicious, repast, the party decided to call it a night. They had traveled far on little sleep and were very nearly totally exhausted. Paul volunteered for third watch before rolling over and going almost instantly to sleep. In what seemed like mere moments, Alena was shaking him gently by the shoulder.

  The young man got up with a stretch and began pacing around the camp. He was still extremely weary, but knew that falling asleep while on watch in Zanoth was tantamount to cutting your own throat as well as the throats of your companions. As a result, he refused to sit down for a moment, and instead marched back and forth as the minutes slowly ticked away.

  During the following few hours, he had time to consider exactly why Joey might have been sent with him. At the moment, it seemed rather hard to fathom. His friend was a great deal of fun to be around, but he couldn't imagine him being of much use in Zanoth. As much as it pained him to admit it, Alena was right: Joey was terrible at swordplay. How a guy who could play baseball as well as he could, couldn't just keep hold of his weapon was beyond him. Just don't let go! How hard a concept was that? It's not like he let the baseball bat fly out of his hands every time he took a swing.

  Still, The Administrator had been right about him having a busy night. So, more than likely, Joey would prove useful, maybe even critical, at some point. The young man thought it might have something to do with his friend being a security expert. Of course, on the other hand, they weren't very likely to need someone to hack through a firewall on an almost medieval world ruled by undead.

  Whatever the explanation, at least Joey still thought this was all just a trip. His opinion would probably change over the next few days but, for the moment, he wasn't angry about being dragged into this nightmare. In all honesty, Joey was so shallow he'd almost certainly be willing to risk getting eaten alive by zombies in order to get the chance to stare at beautiful women. And, even with all its negatives, Zanoth did have plenty of that. All things considered, he probably wouldn't be all that upset even after he finally managed to put two and two together.

  The young man's thoughts were driven from his head by the sight of the rising sun. Its golden gleam was filtered by the gray mist that drifted in the air over much of the sad and sickly dark lands, but it still struck him as a sign of hope. The glowing orb refused to surrender to the eternal night that sought to completely consume this world. Its shining rays beat their way through the shroud above, painting the forest floor with what little light they could. It reminded him of the old saying: It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.

  That was what he had been sent to do. As unbelievable as it seemed, it was also obviously true. He had been summoned to light a candle, to ignite a flame, to show the darkness that light still stood against it, and to give those who hide in darkness something to fear. That was his purpose here, and he intended to see it through. Unfortunately, at the moment, he had no idea how he was going to go about it.

  Just moments after the sun had risen above the horizon, Paul awakened his sleeping companions. Minutes after this, they had consumed a breakfast of leftover Unncar worms, mounted their beasts, and renewed their journey. For several hours, they traveled among the sullen shades of the woeful wood before coming to a wide paved path that ran through the edge of the forest. The band struck out to the west, moving carefully along the once well-traveled road.

  They were very well aware that any undead traveling through the region might make use of the thoroughfare. As a result, they approached every turn slowly and carefully, doing their best to see what was ahead without risking being seen themselves. Even with the delays caused by this caution, Sarrac assured them that this route would lead them most quickly to their destination. However, after just over an hour, their eyes fell on an unwelcome sight.

  “A falauk!” Paul shouted, pointing into the sky above.

  “A what?” Joey asked.

  “An undead bird,” Alena explained. “They use them as scouts. You can be sure we've been spotted.”

  “Traveling on the road is just a bad idea,” Paul asserted.

  “Usually,” Sarrac admitted. “But, so is staying alone in the dark lands longer than we have to.”

  “Agreed,” the young man nodded. “So, what do we do?”

  “Wait and see which way it goes and then go the other,” the ogre replied. “We're all mounted. Hopefully, whoever the beast reports to won't be...”

  “Is that the entire plan?” Paul chuckled, before glancing at the former lich. “Myra, can you stop it?”

  “Not unless it gets closer,” the maiden asserted. “It's too high up at the moment.”

  For almost a minute, the party waited in silence. The undead beast circled the party several times before flying quickly away toward the east.

  “At least they're behind us, not in front of us,” Alena observed.

  “That's some consolation,” Sarrac replied. “We only need to follow this road for about ten more miles. So, let's try to put some distance between us and our soon-to-be pursuers while we have the chance.”

  Having said this, the ogre kicked his beast into a gallop and began flying down the road ahead. For several more miles, the group moved along without impedance. This changed, however, as the band came around a rather sharp turn in the road. The trees that surrounded the path on each side kept the undead patrol marching east and warriors riding west hidden from one another until they almost collided. Fortunately for the party, the patrol was a small one, consisting of only twenty members; only four of which were mounted.

  Weapons were readied and voices raised as soon as the two groups met. Almost instantly, Paul lashed out at the ghast who served as the patrol's commander. With a single blow, he knocked the blade from his foe's hand, before serving his head with a second strike. Myra commanded two of the four reapers that served their enemies to attack their companions. They immediately obeyed; their own will completely dominated by that of the former lich.

  Two ghouls on horseback attacked Sarrac as he fought to defend himself with sword and shield. His opponents were skilled, but they were no match for the powerful ogre. In moments, he had cut one from shoulder to hip, knocking its lifeless body from the saddle.

  Six of their undead enemies were skeletal archers. The ogress understood the danger they could pose to the party and charged through their ranks; the hooves of her horse shattering two to shivers as she rode them down. Her four remaining foes bent their bows and sent shafts flying at her back. One of these bounced harmlessly off the shoulder of her breastplate. The other three, however, found a softer target. Each of them ripped through Joey's back, where he sat clinging to Alena. With a cry of agony, he slipped from the saddle and fell to earth.

  Paul glanced up just in time to see his friend struck down. Rage filled his soul as a scream filled his throat. He lashed out at the ghoul that faced him in a whirlwind of blades. In moments, his second foe was slaughtered, golden fire blazing from the wounds the young man had inflicted on him. He quickly charged past the four fighting reapers, taking just enough time to decapitate one as he passed, before flying into the ranks of the six zombies that were slowly making their way into the fray.

  Myra lashed out with her dark power, instantly killing two of the archers, as Alena ended the life of the remaining two with her flashing blade. Faced with only one foe, Sarrac quickly brought the abomination's life to an end, before flying to the aid of his ally. In just over a minute, the last of the zombies, as well as the reapers, had been slain.

  They had destroyed their enemies and only one of their number had been injured. Joey lay in a quickly growing pool of his own blood, his life rapidly ebbing away.

  “Joey!” Paul cried, pulling his friend up and rolling him over as best he could with arrows protruding from his back.

  “Bro...” Joey replied, before pausing to cough, blood beginning to trickle from the corner of his mouth. “I'm not sure this is a trip...”

  “I
t's not,” the young man said, the blood draining from his own face. “You can't die, man. That's not why you're here.”

  “I think Alena was right,” he smiled, before coughing again. “I kept her from getting shot in the back. That was pretty useful wasn't it?”

  “I didn't mean that,” the ogress almost whispered, gazing down at the dying young man. “I didn't really think...”

  “It's no big deal,” Joey replied. “Maybe it's not like the Matrix. Maybe when I die here, I'll just wake up alive and well back home.”

  “Maybe,” Paul replied. “But, you can't die.”

  “I think if you look at it objectively, bro,” Joey said, glancing down at the arrows sticking out of his chest, “you have to admit that I can. In fact, I'd go as far as to say: I'm going to. Still, you were right. Zanoth is real and it needs you. I'm just sorry I'm not gonna be here to help.”

  “Myra,” the young man said, his eyes turned to the fair maiden. “Can you heal him?”

  “No,” she replied, shaking her head. “But, I can make him undead.”

  “Pass,” Joey said, before coughing again. “I'll stick with life or death. But, thanks for the thought.”

  “If Nyssa were here, she could heal you,” Paul pointed out.

  “That's nice,” Joey nodded weakly. “But, since she's not...”

  At that moment, the young man closed his eyes and stopped talking.

  “Joey!” Paul screamed.

  “Yeah,” he coughed. “Give me a minute, man. I'm thinking...”

  “About what?”

  “Aren't you a paladin or something?”

  “I think so,” Paul replied.

  “Well, didn't you make me play a paladin in that stupid MMO?”

  “I did.”

  “Couldn't I heal people?” Joey asked.

  “You could!” Paul exclaimed.

  “Then, heal me before I actually die, you moron!”

  “Of course!” the young man yelled. “Why didn't I think of that?!”

  “No idea, you idiot,” Joey replied, coughing up more blood. “But, would you please hurry? I'm in a great deal of pain here.”

  “Okay... Let me think... I know the book said something about Laying on Hands...”

  “You mean you didn't read it?” Joey asked.

  “What book?” Myra asked at the same moment.

  “I skimmed some of it,” Paul explained. “I thought I had more time.”

  “Well, I don't,” Joey pointed out, his breathing clearly getting more labored.

  “Right!” the young man said.

  He then laid his hands on Joey and did his best to heal him through sheer force of will. Nothing happened.

  “Are you just going to let me die, or what?”

  “I'm not sure how to do it...”

  “Well, do something! Do anything! I don't care if it's something you've read in a book, played in a game, or seen on TV; but do something!”

  “Okay!” Paul said, leaning his friend back before slapping him on the forehead and yelling, “Be healed!”

  To the complete and utter amazement of all five companions, the arrows in Joey's body immediately pushed themselves from his flesh, his wounds closed, and the color returned to his face.

  “Well...” Joey said, gazing down at his bloodstained clothes and completely healed chest. “Maybe this is a trip after all.”

  “No, it's not,” Sarrac assured him. “We need to get out of here. We still have enemies on our trail and Paul just used divine power which is sure to attract attention. If we don't all want to end up dead, we need to go now!”

  The entire party could see the sense in this and, mere moments later, they were once again on their way. Sarrac decided to leave the road behind them, even though it would cost them some time. Under the circumstances, they just couldn't risk traveling along it any longer. Plus, of course, they were only a few miles from where he intended to leave the thoroughfare anyway. So, all things considered, the increased safety was worth the slight delay.

  “What book?” Myra asked again, as soon as they were once again in the relative safety of the forest shades.

  “The Paul Alexander Stevens' Complete Guide to Paladinhood,” the young man replied with a smile. “The Administrator sent it to me back home. At least, I think that's the case. I guess I can't be positive but, The Administrator knew I was going to get it, so I figured...”

  “You didn't read it?” she interrupted.

  “I was sort of reading on it,” he replied. “It'd just been a really busy week and I was a little distracted with trying to find out where those e-mails had come from, who'd published the book, if there was any way to trace the sender, etc.”

  “So, instead of reading what you'd been sent, you decided to spend all of your time trying to find out who'd sent it?”

  “Kind of,” Paul admitted.

  “I can't believe this,” she replied, shaking her head. “A god sends you a book and you don't take the time to read it. I mean, what kind of person would do that? Or, not do that, I guess...”

  “A god?” the young man asked.

  “Whoever this Administrator is, it's pretty clear they know what's going on here on Zanoth and on Earth. And, they know what your part in all of it is. I can't imagine any power short of a god knowing all of that.”

  “Mmmm,” Paul hummed. “I see your point. It makes me wish I had a copy here to read through. Either way, if I end up back on Earth I'll certainly spend more time on it. Having thought about it in those terms, I can think of another book I probably need to read.”

  “What's that?” she asked.

  “I don't think it matters here,” he replied. “But, I'd bet money it matters back there.”

  “Then, you should read it.”

  “I think I will...”

  Chapter 3: The Latest Gossip

  “I think you're getting better,” Paul said encouragingly as Joey trudged over to pick up his sword for the fifth time.

  “I'm pretty sure you're lying,” he observed as he bent down to retrieve the blade.

  “No, I'm not.”

  “Then, you're deluded,” Alena asserted. “It's blindingly obvious that he's getting even worse than he was. Which, I admit, is hard to believe.”

  “Why, thank you!” Joey exclaimed.

  “I'm on your side,” the ogress pointed out.

  “In what way?”

  “I'm agreeing with you that Paul is lying,” she explained.

  “I see,” he nodded. “In that case, consider my thanks sincere.”

  “Then, you're very welcome,” she smiled. “I mean; you may not be able to handle a sword at all, but you seem to be an expert at stopping arrows.”

  “Oh, that's a real riot,” Joey said sarcastically. “You know, the more I get to know you, the more you make me want to laugh.”

  “That's funny,” the ogress replied, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  “I think you two have sparred enough for tonight,” Myra interjected with a smile, “No good will come from wearing Joey out with practice.”

  “That's true, I guess,” Paul admitted, stepping over to take seat beside the beautiful maiden. “We can always try again tomorrow.”

  “Maybe Darek can help him,” the ogress suggested. “I think he's actually a little better with the blade than either of us. Sarrac's style depends too much on strength to be of any use to Joey.”

  “Thanks, again,” Joey replied, stretching himself out on the ground. “It's good to know that, on top of everything else, you think I'm weak.”

  “Only compared to Sarrac,” she replied, trying to make him feel a little better. “And me, of course,” she added, failing to make him feel better at all.

  “You know, it's rather curious that you were able to heal Joey today,” Myra began after a few moments of silence. “And extremely fortunate.”

  “I couldn't agree more,” Joey replied. “He saved my life.”

  “He did,” she agreed. “
But, that's not really what I meant.”

  “Ah,” he nodded. “So, you're a member of the life is expendable party, then?”

  “Of course not!” she laughed. “Obviously, I'm thrilled that he saved your life...”

  “How thrilled?” Joey interrupted.

  “Not that thrilled,” Paul replied. “So, shut up.”

  “Shutting up, sir,” he chuckled.

  “Anyway,” the fair former lich continued, “my point is that you had to channel divine power to do it.”

  “I know,” Paul nodded. “Sarrac mentioned it at the time.”

  “Right. That means we can be sure that you can still turn.”

  “I can see that,” the young man agreed.

  “Hmmm,” Joey replied thoughtfully. “That raises a question, though. If there are no shrines left and shrines are what divine power is channeled through, how did he heal me?”

  “I have no idea,” Myra admitted. “But, for the moment, we just need to be glad he did.”

  “Oh, I am,” he nodded. “I'm just curious, that's all.”

  Minutes later, Sarrac returned to the camp carrying more foraged supplies. This time, it was nothing more than a number of nuts, berries, and roots, but it was all very nourishing. And, although Paul was disappointed by the fact that none of it was nearly as tasty as Unncar worms, he was thrilled that none of it was as nasty as swamp roots. After their meal, the party laid down for the night; the young man, the ogre, and the ogress once again dividing the watches of the night amongst them.

  They set out with the sunrise the following morning, heading further through the forest and drawing ever nearer the base of Winpar mountain. By early afternoon they had been approached by sentries standing watch on the outskirts of the camp. Sarrac gave them the appropriate passwords and the party was allowed to continue. Shortly after this exchange, the band rode into the current encampment of the Warriors of Dawn.

  The scene struck Paul as rather dismal. There seemed to be close to a hundred men, perhaps even a few more, sitting here and there around small fires. Most of them were fairly well armed and armored, but they were also unshaven, somewhat thin, and obviously weary. A single glance across the camp was enough to show him that morale couldn't be particularly high. These were not men championing a cause, these were men running for their lives. It looked more like a refugee camp than a camp of war. The young man sincerely hoped he could do something to help these people.