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

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The Fortress of Donmar (The Tales of Zanoth Book 2) Page 6

by Aaron J. Ethridge


  “Well, my time in Zanoth beefed me up a good bit,” Paul explained. “I was here for weeks under almost constant physical strain. It had a bit of an effect.”

  “Sure, sure. But then, why didn't that buff follow you back to Earth?”

  “I have no idea. But, no time had passed either.”

  “So, maybe we're actually living two lives?” Joey asked.

  “Maybe,” Paul shrugged. “How would I know? Either way, if we end up back on Earth, which I hope we don't...”

  “Hold on there, Bro!” his companion interrupted. “I can see why you want to stay, but as soon as I've done whatever I'm supposed to do, I'm totally out. This world is completely messed up, man. The finest woman we've met so far is only three inches tall. I mean; what's the point of that?! It's a complete and total waste in my opinion.”

  “I see where you're coming from, I guess,” Paul chuckled. “So, are you upset that I dragged you into all this?”

  “Naw, man, not at all. I'm glad I got to see 'em, if nothing else. I just hope I can remember what they look like after we're back home.”

  “You will.”

  “I'm glad,” Joey smiled. “Seriously, even Alena's pretty fine, you know?”

  “She is,” Paul chuckled again. “You have an amazingly one track mind.”

  “Maybe,” his companion admitted. “But, it's a good track.”

  “Well, I'm happy you're happy. Now, let's go find Nyssa and see what she's up to.”

  “Agreed! If nothing else, it's a pleasure just looking at her.”

  The two young men quickly made their way out of the tent in search of their companions. Within minutes, they found them all gathered around a large bowl filled with water, on the surface of which floated a number of beautiful and delicate flowers of a variety of colors. The fairy fluttered in the air above the bowl, chanting words that neither of the young men could understand.

  “Where did you find flowers?” Paul whispered softly to Darek.

  “Nyssa made them bloom,” he whispered in reply. “She is a fairy, after all.”

  “Oh, right,” the young man nodded. “That makes sense.”

  “Would you two be quiet?” Alena said, glaring at them. “She needs to concentrate.”

  In reply, the two simply nodded silently. Seconds later, a picture of Kafmara was painted on the still surface of the water. Slowly the scene shifted and transformed becoming that of The Tottering Tankard, the pub which was the front for the Warriors of Dawn in the city. As the image altered, they beheld Gregory talking with several large men at the back of the main room.

  “What are they saying?” Darek asked.

  “Hold on,” Nyssa replied, her tone making it obvious that she was working to focus all her attention on the task at hand.

  For several silent seconds, she hovered above the scene, her tiny eyes staring at the bowl below her.

  “They’re very worried,” she said in hushed tones. “The executions are terrifying the citizens and they feel it's only a matter of time before people start talking. At the moment, they're as afraid of reprisals from the Warriors as they are of Baron Dragmor; but that can't last.”

  “We've put them in a very bad position,” Myra replied, shaking her head. “Their choices seem to be: suffer at the hands of the undead, or suffer at the hands of the Warriors of Dawn.”

  “The Warriors would never do anything to hurt the people,” Alena asserted.

  “Well, it's a good thing they don't realize that,” Darek pointed out. “It may be the only thing keeping the Warriors alive right now.”

  “We don't use fear as a tool,” the ogress replied almost condescendingly.

  “Maybe not,” Darek ceded, “but, it's certainly working in our favor at the moment.”

  “In any event,” Sarrac said, “the sooner we can help them, the better.”

  “Very true,” Darek nodded. “Nyssa, if you go into the back, toward that room where Gregory first met you all, you'll find a door on the left end of the hall.”

  “Alright,” the fairy replied, the image in the bowl shifting as she spoke.

  “Then, go down those stairs and through the second door on the right. Although we can't see it, there's a door in the middle of that wall.”

  The picture filling the bowl approached the wall and then went through it. On the far side was a chamber filled with worn weapons and armor.

  “That's it,” Darek smiled. “Can you move the door of the vault to that far wall?”

  “I can,” Nyssa said, closing her eyes as the image in the bowl faded away to nothing.

  “Well, I'm impressed,” Joey said with a wide smile. “How'd you do that?”

  “Magic,” Alena replied, shaking her head.

  “You know,” he said with a touch of sarcasm, “I'd actually managed to figure that out on my own. But, it's not really much of an answer, is it?”

  “What could she say that you'd understand?” Myra asked quite sincerely.

  “Hmmm,” he replied thoughtfully. “Actually, I see your point... Can you see anything you want that way?”

  “Not anything,” the fairy explained. “Some things are protected from scrying magic. For instance, I couldn't see this camp because Paul has The Veil. I have to know where whatever it is I'm looking for is as a starting point. This was fairly easy because I knew where Kafmara was from here. And, even at that, it took a good bit of effort. Still, as you can see, it can be very useful.”

  “I can see that,” he agreed. “For one thing, now we know where to move the vault. How long before we head out?”

  “We?” Alena smiled. “There is no we, Joey. That is to say, we will be leaving very soon, but we'll be doing it without you.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “I agree,” Sarrac nodded. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she said, lifting her hand toward Joey, “that he obviously needs to stay with Thaelen while we do this.”

  “I don't think I agree,” Paul pointed out.

  “I have to admit that I do,” Myra added. “No offense, but Joey's clearly not ready for something like this.”

  “He's not even close,” Nyssa observed.

  “What makes you say that?” Joey asked, gazing at the beautiful fairy. “You don't even know anything about me.”

  “No, I don't,” she admitted. “But, I know Myra and Alena well enough to know that, if they don't think you're ready then you're not.”

  “Well, I'm going anyway,” Joey replied, shaking his head. “If I end up getting killed, I'll need Paul to being me back from the dead.”

  “I'm not sure I could do that,” the young man replied. “I mean; I just learned how to heal.”

  “And, only really powerful paladins could ever raise the dead,” Alena pointed out.

  “But, he is the it,” Nyssa replied.

  “Either way,” Sarrac said. “The Administrator said he might prove useful. He can't do that if we leave him behind.”

  “He can't do that if he's dead,” the ogress retorted.

  “I've got to go with the ladies,” Darek replied thoughtfully. “I mean, if Alena thinks he doesn't have a chance, you can be sure he doesn't. After all, she pretty much sees all life as expendable.”

  “No, I don't,” she corrected. “Which is why I think he should stay here.”

  “Well, I'm a grown man,” Joey asserted. “I go where I want, when I want. And, where I want to go is with my boy here. So, that's the end of it.”

  “No, it's not,” Alena said with a touch of heat. “You're not the one in charge here, Joey, and neither is Paul. We can't risk the quest, not to mention your life, on your whims.”

  “Wanting to stay with Paul isn't a whim,” he said, raising his own voice as he spoke. “I get a whole lot of whims sister, and this don't fit in with any of them. I'm in this nightmare for some reason. I'm not about to let you break up the party so I can get killed in some stupid, ironic, horror movie twist.”

  “What's a mov
ie?” she asked, glaring at him.

  “It doesn't matter,” Paul replied, shaking his head. “What does matter is that Joey's right. We don't know why he's here, but we need to keep him with us.”

  “I agree,” Sarrac nodded.

  “I don't,” Alena, Myra, Nyssa, and Darek all replied simultaneously.

  “A few things,” the ogre said calmly. “First, The Administrator sent Joey here for a reason. Second, we can continue his training as we travel since it's going to take us days to get where we're going. Third, Joey's life is his own to risk. How would we feel if we left him here and he ended up dead, anyway?”

  “You're right,” the ogress admitted with a sigh. “But, when he does get himself killed, I don't want you two trying to include the rest of us in the blame.”

  “She's right,” Nyssa nodded in agreement. “After he's dead, I don't want to hear a word about it. We did what we could to save him, but he didn't appreciate it!”

  “I do appreciate it,” Joey asserted with a smile. “But, it's just possible that I won't get killed.”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Of course, you're going to get killed. If you weren't, why would Alena and Myra have warned you about it?”

  “I suppose I see your point,” he chuckled.

  “Good!” she smiled. “Because, once you are dead, I don't want you complaining about it.”

  “I won't. After all, I'll have brought it on myself.”

  “Wow,” she replied, gazing at him with a wide smile. “That's a surprisingly mature attitude. I'd have never expected anything like that from you. Who knows? Maybe you won't even end up dead.”

  “Maybe, I won't,” he agreed.

  “Don't be silly,” she laughed. “Of course you will! I just said that to encourage you!”

  “Well, I appreciate it, either way.”

  “Anytime!”

  Having come to a decision, the party quickly gathered the equipment they needed, including enough horses for their entire band, and headed back into the wilderness. It would take them a few days to reach the fairy well - even on horseback - and with every passing hour, more innocents might be sacrificed to the unholy hunger of the famine ghast and the monsters that served him.

  It was imperative that they reach the vault as quickly as possible and get it, along with the equipment it contained, to the Warriors in Kafmara. Before the sun touched the horizon, they had already covered a good portion of the distance that stood between them and their destination. All they could do was hope their allies would be able to hold out until help arrived.

  Chapter 4: Amongst the Foe

  “This is not funny,” Joey observed, as he bounced along in the saddle, doing his best not to slide off one side then the other.

  “What's not?” Paul asked, gazing at his friend and doing his best not to smile.

  “Giving me some kind of crazy circus horse when you know I can't ride.”

  “It's not, bro,” the young man chuckled. “It's just a regular old horse horse.”

  “Then, why on Zanoth is it trying to buck me off?”

  “Why on Zanoth?” Paul repeated.

  “I'm guessing that's what the locals say,” Joey explained. “You know; instead of why in the world?”

  “We say both,” Alena pointed out.

  “I appreciate the info. I figure I need to pick up the vernacular if I'm ever going to end up with a girl. Who knows how long we'll be here, and it's easier to sidle up to the ladies when you know the language.”

  “I don't think you'll need to worry about it,” the ogress said, shaking her head.

  “You think not?” Joey asked, a knowing grin on his face.

  “No,” she replied. “You're not going to have a chance, no matter how much you sound like a local.”

  “Thank you, Madam Cow. I should have known I'd have your support... Either way, why is this animal determined to throw me off its back?”

  “It's not,” Paul pointed out. “If it were, you'd be on the ground.”

  “Whatever,” Joey replied. “None of your horses are acting like this.”

  “None of our horses are having to fight to keep us in the saddle,” Myra explained. “He wouldn't be jerking around like that if you'd just keep your weight centered.”

  “That's easier said than done,” he replied with a slightly defensive tone. “It's not my fault he keeps jumping from one side to the other.”

  “Yes, it is,” Alena responded. “You need to get yourself balanced, hold the reigns gently but firmly, and match your rhythm to his.”

  “I have a better idea,” Joey asserted. “How about I give this up for the day and go back to riding behind you?”

  “I thought you didn't like clinging to me like some damsel in distress?” she observed.

  “Yeah, well, I've changed my mind,” he replied.

  “That doesn't matter,” Sarrac asserted.

  “Why is that?” Joey asked.

  “For one thing, you're going to have to learn to ride whether you like it or not,” the ogre explained. “For another, we need to stop for the night. The light's already starting to fail and we shouldn't risk traveling in the dark if we can help it.”

  Minutes after this observation, the entire band was gathered around a small, crackling fire. They ate a meager meal and took a few moments to rest their weary bones before Paul suggested that Darek take a turn at teaching Joey. Unfortunately, the results of this exercise were rather lackluster.

  Joey was determined not to let the blade slip from his grasp no matter what happened. For the brief period the pair were able to practice, he didn't drop his sword a single time. He did, however, almost break his wrist as Darek tried to show him how to disarm an opponent. Fortunately, Nyssa was able to heal the injury, but it brought the lesson to a grinding halt for the evening. It was very clear to the entire band that, if Joey were ever going to become a swordsman, he would need months of practice - at the very least.

  The next morning, they were once again on their way as the sun broke through the cover above; softly kissing the sickly treetops with its gleaming rays. The following few days were filled with the same predictable pattern: The party would travel until nearly nightfall; with Nyssa scouting ahead in order to keep them away from any accidental encounters with the undead. Joey would then spend close to an hour sparring with one or another of the band. Sarrac did his best to find food in the wilderness. The remainder of the group passed the time in talk.

  Paul found himself enjoying the journey in spite of a certain degree of monotony, long hours in the saddle, almost constant danger, and the fact that much of their road wound through the dark lands. For one thing, in Zanoth, he was a hero fighting to save the world from undead horrors; not merely some junior programmer banging out code for a manufacturing facility. Although his life was almost incessantly in peril, at least it had a very clear purpose here. He also found himself surrounded by friends who had risked their lives with him on numerous occasions. Back home, if he could even call Earth home anymore, Joey was the only genuine friend he had. And, as Joey was here anyway, Paul didn't feel he was missing anything in the friend department.

  Plus, of course, it was a great deal of fun watching Joey be terrible at almost everything. As the days passed away, his riding became passable, and Darek felt that his skill with the sword had reached the survive for several seconds level. At least, it had provided he remembered to keep his shield up as much as possible and fight defensively. Paul had little doubt that his friend would master these skills in time but, for the moment, it was hilarious seeing him attempt to ride and fight.

  The young man's last, and most acute, source of pleasure was, understandably, being near Myra both day and night. Although the maiden wasn't showing any conscious signs of questioning her new no courting rule, she had, on two separate occasions, snuggled up to him in her sleep. It was slightly cooler than the eighty degree nights they had slept through just a month before, but it certainly wasn't co
ld enough for her to be cuddling with him for warmth. That alone would have given him hope, but there was even more that offered him encouragement.

  He was unquestionably her favorite conversational companion and the pair passed many a pleasant hour in talk. They discussed their hopes for the future of her world, and what his was like in comparison to a land ruled by the living dead. During one of these conversations, Myra mused aloud on the possibility of someone traveling from Zanoth to Earth. She didn't have much to say before the subject shifted, but it was enough to show Paul what she was thinking.

  He didn't exactly have her on the ten-yard line yet, but it seemed fairly obvious that she wanted to be with him. All he needed to do was bide his time and wait for an opportunity to broach the subject again. Well, that and find a way to stay in Zanoth or bring her to Earth. But, what were such obstacles in the face of love? They'd find a way eventually. They just had to keep searching for a solution.

  After days of continual travel, the party finally reached what Paul thought of as The Plain of Dust. It was an extensive expanse of ground covered in a fine gray powder that was as dry as ash. The first time the young man had crossed it, he'd done so on foot. He thanked everything good that this time he and his allies would be on horseback. Not only would this allow them to put it behind them more quickly, but it would keep their heads mostly above the clouds of lung-filling dust that would be kicked up as they passed.

  This plain sat on the very outskirts of the lands surrounding the Tower of Daelfaun, which Lord Grathis was temporarily using as his seat of power while he worked to restore order to the region. Although their entire journey had been perilous, from this point on, it would be doubly so. They were about to enter a realm filled with the forces of their foes, heading for a destination completely surrounded by the enemy. If they were discovered, flight would be difficult and escape almost impossible. With these thoughts in mind, they gently kicked their horses into motion once again.

  In less than an hour, the party had left the plain behind them and were making their way along a road that led mainly in the direction of the fairy well. After carefully avoiding two different patrols, they reached the spot where the young man had first met the fair young maiden riding at his side. A smile spread across his face as he considered the fact that just a few weeks ago he and Myra had tried to kill each other just yards from where their horses were currently trotting. He shot a glance at the young lady and discovered that there was a smile on her face, as well.

 

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