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 25

by Aaron J. Ethridge


  “Well, either way, you're gonna do it now,” Paul chuckled. “So, it's good that you didn't bother putting it on your list. Let's hurry. I want to get this done and get the food unloaded as fast as we can. Then, we can finalize our plans.”

  Just over a half-an-hour after this conversation, the bodies had been snatched, their uniforms stripped, and the aforementioned food unloaded. The fairy and former lich then turned their attention to examining the capture stones in their possession. While they were busy with that, Gregory had some of his men take the wagons to the border between the lands of Lord Renald and Lord Darril. By the time they returned, the maidens had made some progress.

  “I believe the stones are from Kal Tammon,” Nyssa said, gazing down at the stone rolling slowly along the floor a short distance below her glowing hand.

  “I do, as well,” Myra agreed.

  “Well, we could hardly have better news than that,” Darek asserted. “You may be right, Sarrac; the gods may be watching over us after all.”

  “I'm sure they are,” the ogre nodded.

  “What is Kal Tammon?” Joey asked.

  “It's Lord Darril's most North-Eastern fortress,” Gregory replied.

  “Do you guys know the name of every building within a hundred-mile radius?” he asked.

  “All the important ones,” Alena answered. “And it's probably more than a hundred-mile radius, really.”

  “We've had nothing to do but plan a rebellion for hundreds of years,” Darek explained. “So, yeah, we know a lot about our enemies.”

  “Okay,” Joey nodded. “In that case, tell me a lot about Kal Tammon.”

  “Well,” Sarrac said, “as has already been mentioned, it's on the North-East edge of Lord Darril's territory. It's fairly small, but extremely well positioned; having been built atop a plateau in the mountains that's about fifty feet high. The only way to reach it is by crossing a metal draw bridge connecting it to a narrow road built up to within about thirty feet of the fortress walls.”

  “On top of that,” Darek added, “the garrison is unusually small because it's so easy to defend and basically stands guard over nothing. When you add in the fact that the patrol we slaughtered probably came from there, I think it's safe to assume that it's even emptier than usual.”

  “It's also close to where we are and the mountains,” Gregory pointed out. “Which means that, if we can find a way to move the vault inside, we should be able to attack the gate, lower the drawbridge, and let in reinforcements from outside. The General and I can lead most of the men in that direction - doing our best to avoid the undead - while you guys get ready to storm the place. Then, we can lay siege an hour or two before you move the vault. Commander Galfas is certain to think we're insane. No one would attack Kal Tammon with nothing more than a couple hundred cavalry.”

  “Commander Galfas?” Joey asked.

  “The vampire in charge of the garrison,” Sarrac explained. “It's too small to be under the control of a lord.”

  “But, there's a dark shard there?” Paul asked.

  “There is,” Myra nodded. “It may not be a large fortress, but it's very well defended.”

  “Unless you can just teleport into it,” Joey asserted.

  “Exactly,” Nyssa smiled.

  Before Myra and Nyssa turned their entire attention to figuring out exactly how to bypass the defenses of Kal Tammon, the former lich sent a magical message to General Halfar asking him to join them as quickly as possible. As the good General had been anticipating such a message, he had led his men into a position just miles down the road. Twenty minutes after he received the summons, he - along with nearly two hundred Warriors - arrived at the cell.

  After a very brief explanation, General Halfar threw his entire support behind the plan. He and Gregory would leave a hundred men with the party at the vault and lead the rest, along with all the horses, into the wilderness. As soon as they got the message from Myra, they would marshal their men and move them to lay siege to Kal Tammon. It would likely be a harrowing five days or so, but the General was confident that they could keep out of the undead's reach for that long. Especially since Grathis had no idea where they were at the moment and they'd be able to break up into small groups once again as soon as they reached the mountains.

  His only request was that Nyssa help them avoid any patrols that might be between them and the wilderness and then take the time to hide a few camp locations for them. The fairy was more than happy to comply. Joey forcefully added the stipulation that he be allowed to accompany them and escort Nyssa back to the cell. All the companions saw the sense in this and the decision was made that all of them, with the exception of Myra, would travel along with Gregory and the General until they were once again safely in the dark lands.

  For her own part, the former lich would take command of the Warriors that remained behind and continue examining the capture stones. Although not having Nyssa's help would likely make the task more difficult, she still hoped to gain additional insight before her companions returned. If everything went well, it was possible they would be able to work out a way to get inside the fortress before the vault was even ready to move again.

  Although Paul didn't like the idea of leaving her behind, he had to admit that it was the only reasonable course of action to take. She had work to do and he and the rest of the party would be much more useful escorting the Warriors out of the area than they would be sitting around in the vault watching her work. In reality, she was in essentially no danger considering the fact that she was hidden in a place no one would think to look for her and was guarded by a hundred of their best men.

  The band managed to get underway before the sun set; trotting along the thoroughfare together in a long, fairly narrow, column. Nyssa took the lead; scouting some distance ahead in order to prevent any unexpected encounters. Just before dark, she warned them of the approach of a small patrol of troops belonging to Lord Renald. Fortunately, they were able to run them down and slaughter them with very little effort.

  Shortly after this brief conflict, they reached a road running due East. The commanders decided it would be best to follow it and continue traveling through the night; getting as far as they could before the following dawn. For nearly ten miles, they traveled along this thoroughfare until it came to an abrupt end at the very edge of the dark lands. The band continued traveling Eastward and, by the time the sun rose, the outskirts of the mountains were in view.

  The group made camp; intent on taking only a few hours rest, before they continued their journey. Before Paul had fully realized he was asleep, Alena was gently kicking him in his side and telling him it was time to go. With bleary eyes and a sluggish step, he moved over to his horse and climbed back in the saddle.

  He spent the remainder of the day yawning, stretching, and wondering when General Halfar would decide they had gone far enough for the day. Nyssa, her sleeping schedule having gotten completely out of whack, decided early in the afternoon to take a nap in a bag hanging from Alena's saddle. She pointed out that Joey had actually been the inspiration for this and thanked him again. He offered to carry her in his pocket, but she merely stared at him from under a single raised eyebrow before climbing sleepily into the pouch that would serve as her temporary boudoir.

  Roughly an hour before dark, the General brought the band to a halt. He then asked Nyssa to use her magic to hide a number of specific locations in the surrounding countryside while the rest of the group made camp. Very refreshed from her nap, she was happy to comply; although it would certainly take her most of the night. As soon as dinner had been eaten, Paul and his companions, with the exception of the fairy, quickly fell asleep.

  They woke with the following dawn; Nyssa having just returned from her night's works. The companions bid farewell to the rest of the Warriors before heading back toward the vault. If they wanted to reach the cell as quickly as possible, they would need to ride for nearly twenty hours almost without a break. Paul felt sorry for his mount, his
companions, their mounts, and himself but, on the other hand, he wanted to get back to Myra as quickly as possible. More than likely, she was safe and sound, but he couldn't deny that he'd feel a lot better once he knew that was the case.

  The young man decided, as he often did, to fill a few of the empty hours with interesting conversation. As a result, he introduced a topic that had been in the back of his mind for some time.

  “Alena,” he said, turning his eyes to the ogress, “how long have you known the General?”

  “Most of my life,” she replied.

  “How 'bout you, Sarrac?”

  “Let's see,” he said thoughtfully. “Fifteen years or so, I guess.”

  “How did you two meet him?”

  “He found me wandering around the outskirts of a village when I was about eight,” Alena said, her brows drawing together as she spoke. “My father had angered our lord... I don't remember exactly what happened, but both my parents were harvested before all was said and done. The captain of the garrison said that I wasn't ripe, so he left me behind...”

  For several seconds, she grew silent before speaking again.

  “I actually asked him to take me, as well,” she continued, her voice rather low. “He just laughed and told me he'd take me to meet my lord one day, but that I wasn't ready for him yet. They actually... Neither of my parents were alive by the time they were taken... A neighbor and his wife took me in and were very kind to me, but they weren't my...”

  Here, she paused again.

  “Several days later, I decided to run away,” she explained. “I filled a bag with food, grabbed a knife, and wandered out of the village. The next few weeks are a bit of blur. I remember always being afraid, usually being hungry, and being very, very lonely. It was the grace of the gods that I survived. I remember seeing a field of grain and thinking that some of it was probably ready for harvest. I picked some and had just sat down to eat it when Mark, that's General Halfar's first name, saw me.

  “At first, I was terrified of him; I had never seen a human before. I tried to run, but he followed me. Then, I tried to stab him, but he grabbed me and wrested the knife out of my hand. I went into hysterics for a few minutes, but finally calmed down once I realized he didn't mean to hurt me. We had a little talk and he decided to take me under his wing until he could get me someplace safe.

  “Two weeks later, he left me with a family he knew. I lived with them for about a year or so. Then, the father - who was a bit older than his wife - was harvested. The next time Mark showed up, I asked him to take me with him. He did. At least, for a few weeks.”

  Here, she actually smiled.

  “The General has spent most of his life living in the dark lands,” she said, “constantly on the move. He never had a real family. His parents were killed when he was young, much like mine, and he just started traveling; always staying just out of the undead's reach, longing for the day of the it and doing his best to bring it about. The last thing he needed was a ten-year-old girl trailing along behind him.

  “So, he'd come get me and take me with him for a while then, he'd leave me for a few months, or a year or so, with some family, or some widow, or something like that. After I turned sixteen, I traveled with him more and stayed put less. He taught me how to fight and brought me into the Warriors of Dawn. In some ways, I guess you could say he's my foster father...”

  “I see...” Paul replied, nodding his head slowly. “And you, Sarrac?”

  “Not much to tell, really,” he said somberly. “My mother died when I was an infant, my father was killed in an accident when I was fifteen. After that, I didn't feel like home was home anymore. I set out on my own and ended up running into the General maybe six months after that. I hated the undead and made that a little too obvious - and a little too public. I was in a pub, shooting off my mouth, when a ghoul tried to arrest me. A fight broke out, Mark killed the monster, and we escaped together. After that, he told me of the Warriors of Dawn and I became one of them.”

  “And, that's when you two met?”

  “No,” Alena replied, “that wasn't until years later. By that time, Mark already had me out searching for more information on the it. We'd see each other every year or two, but it's not like we really traveled together all that much. It's like I said, he's kind of like my foster father. I had already seen one father die, I didn't want to be around when another one did.”

  “Zanoth really is a nightmare world,” Joey observed aloud.

  “In some ways,” Darek agreed.

  “Either way,” the ogress continued, “He introduced Sarrac and me years later. In fact, he brought Sarrac to be my partner...”

  “An idea she hated,” the ogre smiled.

  “I did,” she admitted. “Mark worked alone. When his friends died, he usually didn't hear about it until months after the fact. I wanted that same comfort; as cold as it was.”

  “But, she really needed me,” Sarrac replied with a wink. “I don't know how she managed to stay out of trouble before she had me watching out for her.”

  “I didn't,” she laughed, “but, I don't see how you got anything done without me pushing you.”

  “I didn't,” he replied with a chuckle.

  “And then you decided to stick together?” Paul asked.

  “For the moment,” the ogress nodded. “He's actually on a probationary period.”

  “I have been,” he replied, “for the last ten years.”

  “So far, he's doing fairly well,” she said, smiling at him as she spoke. “But, it's like I told him on day one: if he gets himself killed, I'm not going to travel with him anymore.”

  This elicited a laugh from the entire party.

  “So,” Darek said, turning to Paul, “would you like to hear the rather tragic, soul crushing story of my becoming a Warrior of Dawn?”

  “No, thanks,” he replied, shaking his head. “I think I've had enough of that for one day.”

  “I completely understand. Just let me know if you get curious.”

  “I certainly will.”

  This brought the current subject to an end. Their conversation during the remainder of the day wandered over topics as diverse as: whether or not women ever dyed their hair in Zanoth, why Unncar worms were so hard to find, and if you could buy them from any of the villages anywhere near the cell of the mad monk. With such compelling and thought provoking philosophical questions, the band completed the rest of their journey quite happily.

  It was with heavy limbs, but light hearts, that they finally reached their destination. Myra and the warriors with her were perfectly safe and she had even managed to make some progress with the capture stones. As soon as they arrived, the companions removed the saddles and reigns from their mounts before releasing the beasts into the wild. If everything went according to plan, they wouldn't have any more need of them and no one liked the idea of having to keep that many horses in the vault with them for three or more days. Once this detail had been attended to, each of the band crawled onto pallets made of sacks of grain and went to sleep.

  The following day was marginally unpleasant. Although the vault was spacious, to say the least, its over one hundred occupants found themselves somewhat crowded together; even having made what room they were able to by moving all the racks and equipment that could, in fact, be moved. They also took the time to stack the sacks of food in piles along the walls that reached the ceiling. These alterations, however, couldn't completely alleviate the feeling that the chamber was, to some extent, overfilled.

  In addition to this discomfort, were the added the annoyances of boredom and the necessity of constantly speaking in whispers. Several times during the Warrior's occupancy of the cell, they had caught sight of squads of Lord Renald's men marching along the road. It would be the height of foolishness to attract the attention of the undead with a word spoken a little too loudly.

  These factors working together caused Paul to spend most of the day alternating between quietly chatting with his companion
s about how the next step of this plan might play out and silently watching Myra and Nyssa as they worked away. Joey, for his part, wiled the day away; reading through his spell book.

  “Yep,” he said with a wide smile. “That'll do it, I think.”

  “What will do what?” Paul asked quietly, turning his gaze from the maidens to his friend.

  “This,” he replied, pointing to a particular passage. “This is what I've been looking for. I think it may solve a serious problem I've been having lately.”

  “What problem?”

  “When you see the solution, I think you'll understand the problem.”

  “Then show me the solution.”

  “Gladly,” Joey replied softly, climbing to his feet and taking up his staff.

  He gazed down at the open book in his hand and forcefully, but quietly, recited words of arcane power. Instantly, he began to shrink until he was roughly the size of a seven-year-old child.

  “Well...” he said with a particularly high pitched voice, “that didn't exactly go like I thought it would.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Joey replied, shaking his head. “I thought I'd end up a lot smaller than this.”

  “I hope it's not permanent,” Paul said. “Although I have to admit, you're kind of adorable.”

  “Oh, that's rich,” he nodded. “So very witty. I can't believe you just came up with that on the fly. Anyway, no, it's not permanent. But it lasts long enough.”

  “Long enough for what?”

  “Maybe I could figure out a way to reverse it,” Joey said, turning the book upside down as he spoke. “I wonder if Myra knows of any way to do that.”

  “What would be the point of that?” Paul asked, as it dawned on him what his companion was thinking of. “Her being the size of a child isn't going to help you press your suit.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” Joey replied.

  “I just mean...”

  “Anyway,” his friend interrupted, “the point is that we might be able to meet each other half-way.”

 

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