The Staff of Sakatha

by Tom Liberman

  The First Rider rolled his eyes, “Odellius, is it any wonder you’ve provoked every First Rider for the last ten years into giving you the worst civilian duties possible?”

  “I’m quite congenial,” said the rotund warrior as he pulled himself up to his full height and squared his jaw. “I’m terribly insulted by this implication of yours.”

  “It’s no implication, you great oaf,” said the First Rider as he broke into a hearty laugh. “I believe it was a direct accusation. Having said that, you will join me? You’ve met this boy of Tanelorn and I gather he trusts you?”

  “We had a tussle in the yard,” said Odellius smiling broadly. “He fought well enough and seemed not to take it personally when I bested him twice.”

  “He fights with skill you say,” said Vipsanius as the last of the reptiles marched off, accompanied by half a dozen mounted warriors. The First Rider’s lieutenant approached again presumably with news.

  “He tried to wrestle me off my feet in the second go round,” said Odellius.

  “Really?” said the First Rider raising his bushy eyebrows and smiling broadly.

  “Truly,” said Odellius, “and he damn near sent me tumbling, but I managed to throw him off balance in the end. I would say he is a fine warrior and trustworthy as well. I’ll come with you to the mountains and wherever else you order me.”

  “First Rider,” said the lieutenant who arrived. “The prisoners are en route to Black Roost and we await further orders.”

  The First Rider stood for a moment as he looked towards the mountains in the distance, then to the hills more directly to his right, and finally back to his lieutenant. “I’m ending Sir Odellius’s civilian tour,” he said and pointed to the rotund knight. “Find a horse big enough to carry him and bring it here. Then take the main body to where you think the remaining reptiles might be up in the hills. Send a fast messenger to the Black Horse temple in the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc and tell them to expect me within a week.”

  “Yes, sir,” said his lieutenant and immediately turned and began to bark out orders.

  “You and I will continue alone to the temple and try and find this Jon Gray, the brewer boy, and Germanius,” said the First Rider.

  “The mountains are quite large,” said Sir Odellius with a shake of his head. “They could be anywhere up there if they’re still alive.”

  “There’s more going on than you know, Sir Odellius,” said the First Rider as he looked back towards the mountains. “The priests at the temple are versed in the arts of the Old Empire. Where they direct us we will find this boy of gray, I assure you of that.”

  “If he’s alive,” repeated Odellius.

  Chapter 20

  “I don’t like this at all,” said master Shill as he and Whitebone stood in the open cave bathed by the red glow from a dozen light stones embedded in the walls.

  “They are clever,” the skeleton lord began to answer, but the war cry of Proteus caused him to turn and face the charging knight. Whitebone whipped out his sword but the snake creature was not as fast to arm himself, and Proteus slashed with his sword and tore deeply into the side of the creature. Whitebone raised a skeletal hand, spoke in a strange language, a green glow leapt from his hand, and it plowed into Proteus who went flying backwards.

  Master Shill dropped to a knee and tried to hold in his guts as Jon Gray came charging at them only bounce off the green energy shield that now protected the duo.

  “Jon Gray,” said Whitebone. The boy’s head snapped up as he looked at the skeletal figure closely.

  “You know me,” Jon replied in his native tongue and Sorus, who skidded to a stop a moment before he crashed into the green barrier, looked at Jon, “What?”

  Jon looked at Sorus, “He knows me,” he translated.

  “Do you know him,” asked Sorus looking back and forth to the skeleton and Jon.

  Jon shook his head, “No, at least not in his current condition. Perhaps I knew him when he was a living creature,” he said with a wry smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

  “I know your father well,” said Whitebone and switched to the dialect of the traders that everyone could understand, “the Gray Lord. I know your brother Valarious and your sister Jane. I know your people, the Tanelornians. I know that your father possesses the Gray Horn which when sounded will signal the end of the world. I know that he has obtained the Usurper’s black sword, Banisher.”

  “You have me at a disadvantage then, sir,” said Jon, his huge gray sword flicked back and forth and he looked for an opening in the green energy shield.

  “Lord,” said Whitebone, “address me as Lord Whitebone. I also know why you are here, that you want to obtain the Staff of Sakatha to add to your father’s collection.”

  “Why do you talk to them,” hissed Shill and winced in agony from the terrible wound at his side. “My life’s blood flows out, heal me.”

  Whitebone turned to the snake, nodded his head, and then turned back to Jon, Sorus, and Proteus who had regained his feet, although his knees noticeably wobbled. “My companion wants me to heal him. I assume you do not wish for this to happen?”

  “Damn right,” shouted Sorus brandishing his own blade, “if you so much as start to cast a spell I’ll … I’ll … kill you.”

  Whitebone shook his thick white skull and his deep red eyes seemed to turn a shade of green for a moment, “I’m terribly frightened now,” he said. “Jon, we can work this out to your satisfaction and to mine,” he continued.

  “Damn you, Whitebone,” said Shill as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crystalline rock that glowed with energy.

  “Don’t let him use that,” cried Sorus, leaping forward into the green shield, and immediately flying backwards as a crackle of energy burst around him. Proteus moved around to one side and he tried to get a flank position as the snake creature began to utter a spell of some sorts. This ended when Whitebone’s sword cut off his head. The body fell to the ground with a thud, while strange greenish fluid began to pour out onto the floor.

  “Does that prove the earnestness of my offer,” said Whitebone as he looked back to Jon. “We can work out a deal that is mutually beneficial. I want an alliance with your father against the Queen of the Abyss.”

  “Why shouldn’t I just kill you and take the Staff of Sakatha for myself,” said Jon to the creature as his hand twitched, and he poked forward experimentally at the green barrier.

  “That is certainly your prerogative,” said Whitebone with a shrug of his shoulders. “If you think you can kill me, then that is clearly your best choice. Do you think you can?”

  Jon stood still for a moment, “I’m certain I can,” he said with a smile, “but my father tells me to consider all options before making a decision. What do you offer, Lord Whitebone?”

  “No, Jon,” said Sorus, “don’t listen to him. It’s some kind of a trap.”

  Proteus continued to skirt around the edge of the circle and get in position to bypass the energy field that blocked them off from the skeletal creature.

  “I’d heard you were a stupid oaf,” said Whitebone to Jon with a nod of his head. “A boy incapable of thinking on his own, but perhaps the rumors were unfounded. You seem quite reasonable.”

  Jon nodded his head, “Make your offer, Lord Whitebone.”

  The skeleton moved a hand to its chin and apparently did not notice as Proteus sidled another step closer, “The Staff of Sakatha is a relic from the Old Empire. The reptile men of Darag’dal are degenerate dragon children, their blood thinned over the generations, but they hope to raise a great hero from that bygone era, Sakatha the Great.”

  “Go on,” said Jon careful not to look at Proteus, who edged closer in small motions and now stood only twenty feet from the bone lord.

  “The Lady of the Abyss wants the staff for a similar purpose; she hopes not to raise Great Sakatha but to animate his corpse and make him one of her most powerful minions,” Whitebone said as his red eyes began to blaze wi
th fire. “I want neither of these things, and if your father takes the staff out of circulation or even destroys it I will be quite pleased.”

  Jon nodded his head, “Are you not a servant of She of the Undeath? You certainly have the countenance of the dead,” he said as his eyes glanced once towards Proteus who now stood no more than three steps from the undead lord.

  “I am subject to her will, yes,” said Whitebone, “but she and I have different agendas. Have you heard the name Shinamar?” he said with a tilt of his head.

  Jon shook his head, “No, should I?”

  “No,” said Lord Whitebone, “and I am not in such an expansive mood as to illuminate you to his role in all of this. All I need is a child of the dragon to tell me where the thing is located; you help me find it, and then we turn it over to your father. That seems reasonable, does it not?”

  “It does,” said Jon.

  “Don’t trust him,” shouted Sorus and pointed with his finger to the skeletal warrior. “I bet that white dragon was his all along, that’s how it knew your name!”

  Whitebone stood up stiffly for a moment but then resumed his previous attitude, “I am not lying to you Jon,” he said. “I am not telling the complete truth of course, as our desires do not match exactly. But, in this case I think we can, and should, work together.”

  Jon nodded his head, “I’m willing to accept that, Whitebone,” he said.

  “Did the boy mention a white dragon,” said Whitebone his inflection apparently calm.

  “It was traveling with some dragon children,” said Jon with a shrug. “Sorus, myself, and another knight came here and found the creature. I suspect it wanted to find the Staff of Sakatha as well. It probably worked for the dragon children.”

  “That would seem to make sense,” said Whitebone with a casual nod of his head. “You’ve been in this region before?”

  “Yes, just a couple of days ago,” said Jon. “We came across the creature and its friends in the darkling lands below the mountains. Sir Germanius killed it but died in the effort, so the dragon cannot be of any help to us now.”

  “I see,” said Whitebone his voice suddenly cool, but the fire in his eyes now glowing with white hot intensity.

  “Jon,” said Sorus. “Something’s up!”

  “This friend of yours, Sir Germanius the dragon slayer, he died while killing the beast,” said Whitebone as his body began to tremble.

  “Yes,” said Jon with a nod. “It was a fair battle and they killed one another. There was a darkling with them that I killed, and Sorus here fought and killed a dragon child at the same time.”

  Whitebone stood silently for a long moment as his eyes grew more intense until they were white hot and boring into Jon with pure hatred.

  “Watch out, Jon,” said Sorus and leapt forward to push Jon out of the way as a bolt of energy shot out of the skeleton lord’s eyes at the young gray knight. Sorus hit Jon like a wooden practice sword against a set of heavy plate mail, bounced off straight backwards onto the floor, but the impact caused the Gray Knight to turn sideways and the white hot bolt sailed past his right ear. He clapped a hand over it as the near miss sent a burning sensation through his body.

  As Sorus picked himself up off the floor Proteus moved in from behind the skeletal lord with his sword raised and began a quick motion aimed at the creature’s midsection. Whitebone whirled with astonishing speed and parried the blow. Proteus slid sideways but managed to get his own defense up in time to knock aside the riposte that sailed harmlessly past his head.

  Jon looked at the green shield that separated him from Whitebone, and the lord of death glanced over his shoulder, smiled, and then his blade flashed out again, this time it caught Proteus a glancing blow on his shoulder. The knight of Elekargul winced in pain but struck back, although he missed missing widely, as Whitebone moved with tremendous grace.

  “Jon,” screamed Sorus, “I’m going to go around it,” he continued and then dashed off to the side of the energy field as he hoped to follow Proteus’s movements. This time the green glow actually lurched at Sorus, and the boy, surprised, was unable to dodge aside. It hit him with a crackling burst of energy, and he flew back against the wall and smashed his head with a dreadful thunk. The lad slid to the ground with his eyes rolled back in his head and his sword on the floor next to his limp hand.

  Whitebone parried another blow from Proteus with apparent ease and his own blade nicked the warrior on the right hand, drawing a narrow stream of blood, “I’ll kill your friend here first,” said Whitebone with a casual glance at Jon, “and then I’ll finish you slowly and painfully.”

  Jon paused for a moment, watched the swordplay between Proteus and Whitebone, took a quick glance at the fallen Sorus, set his jaw, and raised his sword, “For the Gray!” he yelled and charged directly at the glowing green energy shield as his massive stone sword swung down with devastating force. The two forces met, green energy shot up the blade and into Jon’s arm. His body stiffened but his momentum kept him going forward until he reached the shield itself. There was a strange silence as its energy engulfed the sword and then Jon at the same second, but then there was a terrible cracking sound and Jon plunged through to the other side, stumbled for a moment, and then caught his feet and turned to Whitebone.

  Lord Whitebone looked over at the sound and Proteus lunged forward, the tip of the sword penetrated the skeletal master’s heavy cloak, slid into his body, and nicked a rib. Whitebone whirled with a move too fast to completely comprehend, raised his free hand, slapped Proteus across the face, and the knight turned almost instantly blue, flew backwards ten feet, and collapsed to the ground, his entire body shivering.

  Meanwhile, Jon moved directly at Whitebone who spun again and brought his sword up to block the descending stone blade. There was the slightest clink when the skeletal lord’s blade broke, but the parry did nothing to stop Jon’s sword and it continued to decend almost unabated and crashed into Whitebone’s shoulder with such force that the bone turned to powder and sprayed out of the collars around his neck and wrist with a puff.

  Whitebone screamed in agony, his eyes burning red, Jon flipped his massive sword up with a simple wrist movement, and then turned it in a downward sweeping arc aimed at the skeleton’s head. The creature shrieked out a single word and vanished as the sword plunged through the spot it occupied a moment before and crashed into the ground with the terrible sound of rock on rock. Jon looked around but could not see Whitebone, and then rushed over to Proteus who lay in a curled-up position, his face blue and his body cold to the touch.

  “Are you all right?” Jon said as he put his hand on the man.

  “I’m cold,” said Proteus with a smile, “which means I’m not dead, should you care to look on the positive side of things.”

  “True enough, here, take my cloak,” said the gray knight and pulled off the gray cloak with the mistletoe symbol on the shoulder. “I’m going to check on Sorus, I think he’s all right as well, just dazed from that energy shield thing.”

  Proteus nodded as his teeth chattered, “I’ll try to get up and move around; my legs don’t seem to want to take orders at the moment but I’ll convince them.”

  Jon walked over to Sorus who sat against the wall and blinked wide eyes set in a face ashen white. He reached back to feel his head and immediately knew he was bleeding again, “I think Proteus is going to be mad at me for opening my wound,” he said with a smile.

  “Just sit right there for a bit,” said Jon. “You were right about Whitebone and you saved me from that bolt he threw. Proteus is going to be okay but we need to get out of here as quickly as possible. I think there are more darklings about and we’re in no condition to deal with them.”

  “Just give me a second,” said Sorus and put his hands by his legs in an attempt to slowly rise, “I’ll be okay.”

  Jon went back over to Proteus who had somehow managed to get shakily to his feet, and his color changed to a slighter redder hew although he still shivered un
controllably. “I’ve never been hit with anything like that,” he said with a shaky voice. “Let’s get out into the sunshine. I don’t think I like it here in the darkling lands much.”

  “Agreed,” said Jon with a nod of his head and he put his arm under Proteus’s and helped the warrior along. “Don’t forget your sword,” he reminded the knight as he pointed to where it lay on the floor.

  “Right,” said Proteus, “I must be more addled than I realized,” he continued, “a knight never leaves his sword on the field of battle unless he’s dead.”

  The two staggered over to the blade, Proteus picked it up, sheathed it, and then they walked slowly over to Sorus who was also barely on his feet. Jon slipped his other arm around the young knight and the three of them walked arm in arm back towards the entrance of the cave.

  Chapter 21

  The two figures, one immensely fat atop a draft horse that plodded along, and the other short and stout aboard a thickly muscled horse, arrived at the gates to the Black Horse temple as the sun set early in the shadows of the Mountains of the Orc. A livery boy, wearing a cloak with a simple Black Horse symbol emblazoned on it, dashed out from a long building and over to the men. “Hello,” he started to say and then saw the two men clearly and pulled up short, “First Rider, sir! Welcome to the Black Horse temple, can I take your horse, sir?”

  Vipsanius dismounted quickly althought it took a bit longer for the rotund Odellius to swing his leg around and get off his own mount. A few seconds later the two strode off to a tall stone building in the center of the courtyard while the boy led the horses to the long structure not far away. As soon as the young livery boy got to the paddocks he shouted out to another boy who lazed nearby on a bale of hale, “It’s the First Rider and Sir Odellius!”

  “What?” said the second boy jumping immediately to his feet. “What’s that you say?”