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 28

by Aaron J. Ethridge


  “Here goes nothing,” he said before striking the stone with all his might.

  The shard shattered in an explosion that threw the young man across the room and into the far wall. His allies rushed to his side, Sarrac rolling him over on his back.

  “Nyssa,” he said, lifting his head slightly to look at the fairy. “What exactly was that spell you cast on me?”

  “It's like magic armor,” she smiled. “It completely covers you in a shield of arcane power. Which is why, even though you were probably hit by thousands of tiny crystal fragments, there's not a scratch on you.”

  “I see,” he said, laying his head back on the floor. “Well, from now on, I'd rather not do it that way; if it's all the same to you.”

  “Oh, it is,” she assured him. “I mean; however you want to do it is fine with me. Maybe next time, you should have your sword in your left hand and your shield in your right.”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “Maybe that would do the trick.”

  “We'll come up with something better next time,” the ogre asserted, giving Paul a hand up. “For now, we need to focus on finishing our search.”

  The party moved from the dark shard chamber into the treasury of the fortress. It was filled with chests of gold and silver, racks of weapons and armor, and shelves filled with books and scrolls. As most of the companions were carefully examining the treasure they had found, Nyssa was carefully inspecting one of the chamber's corners.

  “Something's hidden here,” she said thoughtfully, her eyes running slowly up and down the wall.

  “Undead horrors?” Joey asked.

  “No...” she said, running her tiny hand along the rock. “Something else...”

  “Well, if you find anything...” Darek began.

  “Right there,” she said, pushing gently as she spoke.

  The corner of the wall swung open like a pair of double-doors revealing a small chamber filled with dusty tomes and ancient scrolls.

  “Wow!” Joey said, smiling at Nyssa. “You've got some good eyes.”

  “Fairies aren't just good at hiding things,” she explained, “we're also good at finding what's been hidden.”

  “Well, this certainly is a find,” Myra said, stepping into the room and pulling a volume from the shelves that lined the chamber. “You wanted some books on magic, Joey. Here they are.”

  “Score!” he replied before grabbing up a number of books and scrolls. “I'm gonna take this stuff upstairs and get a look at it in the light.”

  “We've got light here,” Paul pointed out.

  “Okay then,” Joey replied, moving toward the door, “I'm gonna get a look at it at a table.”

  “That, I can see,” the paladin admitted.

  The band, along with the hundreds of Warriors that now filled the stronghold, completed their search before nightfall. Paul could still feel the presence of incorporeal undead, but they were in hiding and unlikely to reveal themselves before the sun set. If Myra was right, they would flee as soon as the darkness was there to shield them. If not, he would be able to sanctify the fortress and destroy them. Their victory, up to this point, was complete.

  The young man decided to point this fact out as he and the former lich happened to find themselves walking alone through the former crystal chamber.

  “Myra,” he said with a smile, stepping up to her side. “I've been wanting to talk to you.”

  “About what?” she asked with a smile of her own.

  “About us.”

  “We've already talked about that.”

  “I know but, now that we've captured Kal Tammon, things have changed.”

  “Not much.”

  “Yes, they have,” he asserted. “We're a lot safer now than we were weeks ago.”

  “I agree,” she replied, stopping where she was and turning to face him, “but we're not nearly safe enough.”

  “Safe enough for what?” he asked. “Safe enough to court? I mean; even if we got married today, it's not like we'd be having children tomorrow.”

  “That's not the point, Paul,” she replied, shaking her head. “It's not just that we're not safe enough for that now. We'll never be safe enough for that. So, what's the point of...”

  “The point,” he interrupted, “is that I really care about you. No, in fact, I don't really care about you. I love you. That's the point!”

  “I...” she said before pausing for several seconds. “I love you, too. But, that doesn't change anything.”

  “Yes, it does!” he insisted. “It changes everything.”

  “It doesn't change the fact that Zanoth is a world of death!” she exclaimed. “It doesn't change the fact that families are torn apart or that children are sacrificed to the hungers of the undead. Love doesn't change any of that!”

  “I disagree,” he replied, shaking his head. “I think love changes all of that. And, it is changing it. We're winning, Myra.”

  “We've won a few battles, Paul!” she replied. “This war is a long way from over.”

  “That may be true,” he ceded, “but, we don't need to end the war. We just need to find a place where we'll be safe.”

  “It amounts to the same thing,” she said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “Could we please stop talking about this?”

  “Yes...” he sighed. “But, I'm the type of guy that's at least got to have hope. So, promise me that you'll tell me if we're ever safe enough and I'll do my best to leave you alone.”

  “I don't want you to leave me alone,” she replied. “I just don't want to talk about this. There's no point.”

  “Okay,” he nodded. “Still, you'll tell me if we ever end up being safe enough, right?”

  “If that ever happens,” she replied with a very slight smile, “you'll be the first to know.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a heavy heart, the paladin made his way upstairs alone. He soon discovered Joey sitting at a table, digging through the volumes he'd collected.

  “Find anything useful?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” Joey replied, shaking his head. “I've found some stuff on magic theory I plan to read later, but so far I haven't found a make her bigger spell.”

  “Well, keep looking.”

  “I plan to,” Joey assured him, laying aside the tome in his hand before unrolling one of the scrolls. “Blank. What's the point of that? Why would you hide...”

  The aspiring wizard stopped mid-sentence as words began to form on the ancient paper. The light of the setting sun was coming through a window directly behind him, illuminating the page as runes formed on its surface.

  “What do you make of that?” he asked, turning it toward the paladin.

  “Sarrac,” Paul said, raising his voice, “come here a minute, would ya?”

  The ogre replied in the affirmative and stepped quickly to the table.

  “What do you make of this?” the paladin asked, taking the scroll and handing it to him.

  “Let's see,” Sarrac replied, holding up the parchment in both hands, “The Fortress of Donmar:

  Once dawn has come to shake the night,

  The siege complete, the battle won,

  This prophecy shall come to light,

  Once more shall see the glint of sun,

  The prophet’s work, at last be done.

  For what you seek has long been sought,

  A hidden home, both safe and sound,

  Made long ago, by magic wrought,

  Though never lost, shall soon be found,

  On holy ridge, on sacred ground.

  To fallen shrine, both sacked and burned,

  On Palmos Hill, your path must lead,

  Where clerics died, as battle turned,

  Whose lives were lost, but souls were freed,

  As well they fought, for god and creed.

  A man in robes will show the road,

  And point you to the door ahead,

  That leads to rest, from heavy load,

  Where table sits, with wine and br
ead,

  In halls long hidden from the dead.

  Corruption though, did find its way,

  Through portal dark, in times of old,

  A deadly beast, which you must slay,

  Awaits you there, in chambers cold,

  If you would live, you must be bold.”

  “Sounds like a prophecy to me,” Paul pointed out.

  “Obviously,” Sarrac chuckled. “It actually says that it is.”

  “What should we do?” the paladin asked.

  “Head for the shrine of Palmos in the morning,” the ogre asserted. “It will likely take us close to two weeks to reach it. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll get there.”

  “We need to discuss it with the others.”

  “I agree.”

  Paul went to get Gregory and the General while Sarrac rounded up the rest of their companions. As soon as they were all collected, the ogre read the scroll aloud before sharing his opinion that the it and his closest companions should make their way to the shrine as quickly as possible.

  “I think the title of the prophecy speaks for itself,” he asserted. “The Fortress of Donmar must be a place of safety.”

  “If the prophecy is genuine,” Gregory observed.

  “I feel certain that it is,” the ogre replied.

  “There's a shock,” Darek smiled.

  “You don't?”

  “Whether I do or not,” he replied. “it's obviously worth checking out.”

  “I'm glad we agree,” Sarrac nodded.

  “Am I the guy in the robe?” Joey asked thoughtfully.

  “Maybe,” Paul said, “but, if it were you, I think it would have said: A man in a dress.”

  “That just keeps getting funnier.”

  “What about the vault?” the General asked. “We can't move it without you.”

  “Yes, you can,” Myra corrected. “You just have to know where you want to move it to.”

  “We can leave you with the coordinates here and the ones that will take the vault to the catacombs,” Nyssa assured him. “That will allow you to escape or bring the women and children here; depending on what happens once we're gone.”

  “I sent scouts to the catacombs days ago,” General Halfar replied. “Depending on their situation, we may simply try to sneak more food to them. If at all possible, I'd like to keep the vault here until we find out what Grathis's reaction to all this is going to be.”

  “That's a good point,” Gregory nodded. “Actually, I think you should stay long enough for Paul to sanctify this place. Or, at least, take the time to cleanse away the corruption.”

  “I agree,” Alena added. “There's no point in leaving Kal Tammon until we've done our best to secure it. All Grathis would need to do at the moment is wait until nightfall and send an army of wraiths and specters in here to kill everyone.”

  “It wouldn't be quite that easy,” Myra asserted. “Wraiths and specters are difficult to control; especially in large groups. He would certainly be able to send a force of shades in, but they're not nearly as powerful.”

  “You may be right,” the ogress admitted, “but, the point is that Paul should take the time to sanctify the fortress before we leave. I'm sure you agree, Sarrac.”

  “I hate the loss of time,” he replied. “But, you're right.”

  “Well, then,” Paul said, standing as he spoke, “I may as well get started. The sun is down and I can already tell that the undead are no longer here. Commander Galfas, and whatever else we didn't manage to kill, must have fled already.”

  The young man quickly obtained and blessed several skins of water before making his way down to the commander's former chambers. Using holy water, he washed away the runes of blood and began the cleansing process. By midnight, he was completely exhausted, but the last remnants of corruption had been purified. Sanctifying the fortress would have to wait until the following morning. He had done as much as he could in a single day.

  He awoke to find that Nyssa and Myra had spent a significant portion of the preceding evening magically grinding a large number of the silver coins from the treasure room into dust. As a result, he had what he needed to make the sanctification permanent. Unless, of course, the undead managed to fight their way in, slaughter everyone, and desecrate the place - like they had when the stronghold had fallen centuries before. Still, all things considered, it was worth the time and effort to at least try to make it last.

  This process took longer than they had hoped, in spite of the fact that Paul channeled the divine power until he was afraid his blood was going to boil. During the two days it took him, the rest of his companions made, what they felt, was the best use of their time. Nyssa and Myra put together the coordinates of the stronghold, the catacombs, and another storehouse for Gregory and the General. Alena, Sarrac, and Darek helped the Warriors get organized into a regular garrison. Joey, for his part, spent two days searching through every book and scroll in the place for a growth spell.

  Finally, the fortress was sanctified and the companions were on their way. According to Sarrac's estimates, it would take them nearly two weeks of constant travel to reach their destination. Their road would lead them into the lands of Lord Nimmon. However, as that particular undead lord hadn't had soldiers slaughtered by the it yet, his troops weren't likely to be looking for them.

  During these days of travel, Paul did his best to mention courting as little as possible. He found this more difficult than he imagined, however, as they were clearly heading toward a place of unquestionable safety. On the other hand, Myra pointed out that it certainly wouldn't be safe until after the deadly beast, whatever it was, had been defeated. And, the fact that their camp was attacked during the night on no less than five occasions during the first twelve days of their journey, made the we're safe argument somewhat difficult to support.

  “I've got a question,” Paul said thoughtfully on the thirteenth evening.

  “What is it?” Myra asked.

  “Where did they get that battering ram?”

  “What?” she laughed.

  “That battering ram,” he replied. “The one the Warriors were using to knock down the doors to the keep. Where did they get it?”

  “What made you think of that?”

  “I don't know,” he shrugged. “Just mulling things over, I guess.”

  “Well, it's wasn't really a battering ram,” Darek pointed out. “It was just a tree trunk.”

  “Whatever,” Paul replied. “My question still stands.”

  “The General brought it,” Alena explained. “He knew we might not be able to open the doors. So, he had his men cut it down and carry it with them. If we hadn't made it to them, they would have made it to us.”

  “The General's a good man,” the paladin observed.

  “He is,” the ogress agreed.

  “While we're asking questions about the siege,” Joey said. “Myra, why couldn't you kill those skeletons?”

  “I was killing them,” she replied. “I just didn't have time to finish before one managed to reach me.”

  “Right, right,” he nodded. “But, normally, you pretty much just blow them up.”

  “Those weren't just skeletons,” she explained. “They were skeletal knights, like General Kass. They have minds of their own and are very resilient against attacks of dark power. Which is why they're hard for me to control or kill.”

  “I can see that, I guess,” he replied. “That also explains the laughing. At least, I thought I heard one laugh.”

  “You did,” Nyssa asserted.

  “Also,” Joey continued, “did anyone notice that my staff seemed to electrify that one skeleton when I knocked its head off?”

  “I did,” Nyssa nodded.

  No one else had.

  “It slipped my mind right after the battle,” he explained. “Mainly because, as soon as we found all those books and scrolls, I wanted to see if I could find some kind of make people bigger spell...”

  “Why would you want that
?” the fairy interjected. “You're already ludicrously huge. Of course, I have noticed that men seem to want to be the biggest man around and Sarrac makes the rest of you look really stumpy in comparison.”

  “Why, thank you,” Darek laughed.

  “You're big enough, Joey,” she continued, “In fact, you're way too big. If anything, you need to find a spell that can make people smaller.”

  “I already have. Don't you remember?” he replied. “I shrank myself not all that long ago.”

  “Did you?” she asked. “I wish I'd have seen that. I'll bet you looked adorable.”

  “He did,” Paul asserted. “Although, you did see him.”

  “Did I? Then, I guess he wasn't all that adorable. If he had been, I'd have remembered.”

  “All this is beside the point,” Joey replied. “What I want to know is: why did my staff do that?”

  “There are a number of possibilities,” Myra pointed out. “It may just do that anytime you hit anything with it. Or it could be that your emotions at that moment were driven to such a pitch that the staff manifested them as lightning. Or it could even be that you have an affinity for electricity and the staff simply channeled that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Some magic users,” the maiden explained, “have a certain natural connection to one of the elements. You may have noticed that Nyssa is incredibly adept with fire.”

  “I had,” he assured her.

  “Fire is her element,” Myra continued. “It may be that electricity is yours. The fact that you almost managed to strike Baron Dragmor with lightning, in spite of the fact that the spell you used was way beyond your skill level, attests to that possibility. Plus, it didn't kill you when it went wrong - which is even more proof. You should probably try using some other electricity based spells and see how they work for you.”

  “Why didn't you mention this before?”

  “I hadn't really thought about it,” she replied. “Besides, it's not like you can't use other spells, as well. Look at Nyssa...”

  “I love to,” Joey interjected with a smile.

  “Right,” the former lich replied, rolling her eyes. “My point is: she can use all kinds of magic. She just happens to have an affinity for fire. There's no reason to limit your learning, even if you do have a connection to electricity. I'm just saying that you should explore that idea and see where it takes you.”

 

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