Remnants of the Order

by Hamish Spiers

  Lorial looked to the south. The land was very dry, with the occasional rocky outcrop or hill, and was sparsely covered with coarse grass. There were some small trees, bushes and clusters of wild flowers as well but nothing in the way of cover.

  “We won’t be able to move from here until it’s dark again though,” she said.

  “Then we’ll wait,” Ishtvan replied. “Anyway, we’re not far from a safe haven. In a day or two, I think we can make it to Ketchyin. Then we can get some more supplies and plan our next move.”

  “We’ll be going into the town?” Lorial asked.

  “Well, we’ll have to,” Ishtvan told her. “Where else were you planning to stock up?”

  “There might be some mountain streams nearby,” she pointed out.

  “True. But do you think you’ll find a spare flask by any of them?”

  It was hot and dry when they entered the town of Ketchyin late the next morning but, at least, it was a pretty place. Low buildings with generous eaves provided some shade, the streets were wide and paved with cobblestones, and small trees and fountains lent the town some cheer.

  It was also close to the mountains, more barren here than they had been farther north, and not far from desert country. The land of Maharei to the south, of which Kalishar was the sole remaining city, had dried up over a thousand years ago and nothing remained of Damasi, the civilization that had once thrived to Maharei’s east.

  Still, Ketchyin had some life left. Plenty of greenery managed to survive in the dry conditions and there were a few small farms scattered around the town as well, irrigated by underground reservoirs that also provided drinking water. And the townspeople looked as though they didn’t have a care in the world.

  “What’s wrong with these people?” Lorial muttered.

  Ishtvan gave her an odd look. “What do mean, what’s wrong with them?”

  “How can they all be so cheerfully ignorant of all the fighting that’s been going on this past few years?”

  “They’re not ignorant,” Ishtvan told her. “They’re probably more aware of it than most people are. They’re just putting up a brave face, that’s all. Besides, they probably don’t think anyone would bother with a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. Why should they?”

  “I was in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere before I went to Ensildahir,” Lorial said. “That didn’t help me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Ahead of them, a number of people were playing instruments, singing and dancing in the street. Finding some shade, Lorial and Ishtvan sat down to rest and watched them.

  “Well, whatever else you can say about these people,” Ishtvan said, “they know how to have a good time.”

  Lorial nodded, fumbling through her pockets for coins to buy supplies. Ishtvan in the meantime was thinking over their next move when noticed a man sitting on some steps a few yards away from them. He was also watching the singing and dancing but he watched as Ishtvan and Lorial did, as an outsider looking in.

  “Keld,” Ishtvan murmured.

  “What?” Lorial asked.

  “That man,” Ishtvan said, nodding towards the seated figure. “That’s Keld Vascakyle, an old friend of mine. He was at Orishelm when it fell.” There was no trace of anger in his voice as he spoke of his city, just a quiet sadness. He motioned for Lorial to follow him and they walked over to his friend.

  “Keld,” Ishtvan greeted him. “It’s been quite a while.”

  Keld’s eyes lit up when he recognized him. “Ishtvan.” He climbed to his feet and clasped his hand in greeting. “You’re alive.”

  “More or less,” Ishtvan said, managing a smile.

  “And you are?” Keld asked, turning to Lorial.

  “Lorial Sunderlass,” she replied, shaking his hand as well. “I’ve been traveling with your friend Ishtvan for the past few days.”

  “A pleasure,” Keld said, then nodded in a direction down the street. “Say, I’m staying next to a little inn close by. Why don’t we go back to my humble lodgings and talk?”

  “Good idea,” Ishtvan said, following him. “Do you have any spare flasks, by the way?”

  “I’m sure the innkeeper could find me a few,” Keld said. “Why do you ask?”

  “Long story,” Ishtvan told him. “By the way, how did you get away from Orishelm in one piece?”

  Keld shrugged. “I was knocked out. When I came to, there was no one near me so I was able to crawl off the battlefield and limp off into the forests.”

  “How did you end up here?”

  “The local innkeeper gives me free board in exchange for dealing with any Angdar who wander too close to the town. It’s a good deal. But what I really want is to head back north and help our friends in Valahir.”

  “You’ve tried?”

  Keld nodded. “A couple of times. The Angdar have them hemmed in tight. They control both sides of the Avahast and you can’t head east and try to get in from the north because of all the sentries near Wyvern’s Peak. And short of that, without any reinforcements, the only thing you could do is try to cross the Ileskande Mountains.”

  “Well, they say Kelahil the Wolf–Hearted did it,” Ishtvan said. “Although, I’ve always thought that part of the histories was made up.”

  “By people who’ve never seen those mountains,” Keld said, stopping in front of a doorway. “Here we are.”

  “Lorial and I are heading to the southern cities with important news,” Ishtvan said as they stepped inside.

  “Ensari or Kalishar?”

  “Either. I’m sure it concerns them both. We’ve uncovered information that the Angdar armies are planning to attack Ensildahir. The captain of the guard there is working with them.”

  “Well, that is important,” Keld agreed.

  “There’s more,” Ishtvan told him. “Cirreone...” He stopped and corrected himself. “No, it’s not just Cirreone, or even all of Aracea. It’s the entire Aracean Empire. They’re resuming their fight against the lands allied with the mages.”

  “Well, the fighting from their side’s been quiet for a while,” Keld conceded. “I take it this isn’t going to be more raiding along the border of Un’vari then?”

  “A fleet of ships is attacking Ensari from the sea.”

  Keld shook his head. “The Araceans really need to abandon this stupid grudge with the western regions. We should be uniting against the Angdar.”

  Ishtvan waited a moment before replying. “Well, that’s the thing. We’re not entirely sure that the Araceans and the Angdar aren’t on the same side.”

  “Are you joking?” Keld asked him after a moment’s pause.

  Ishtvan held his gaze. “The attacks are going to coincide, Keld. Down to the day.”

  Keld pressed his hands together and rubbed them against his forehead, exhaling a breath of air. “We can’t fight the Araceans and the Angdar at the same time.”

  “We’ll have to try,” Ishtvan said. “But there is one consolation. Ensari and Maharei have the best fleets in the Greater Realms. The Araceans’ attack would work as a surprise strike if they can cripple the Ensari ships before they can leave the harbor. But if those same ships are waiting for them as they come through the strait, they’ll decimate them.”

  Keld smiled. “Well then. We may have a fighting chance after all.” Then his smile faded. “However, that’s going to depend entirely on whether or not you can get to Ensari or Kalishar safely. If you want any help from me, you’re welcome to whatever I can give.”

  “We might like some help actually,” Ishtvan said. “Earlier, we talked about crossing mountains. The Ileskande range is almost impassable, true enough, but there are a few paths across the Entruscian range.”

  Lorial, who had so far been listening to the conversation in silence, stirred at this. “Hang on, Ishtvan. We’ve just come out of the mountains. Why would we want to go back?”

  “Because,” Ishtvan told her, “if our enemies are onto us, they may well have riders waiting to cut us off at
Avani’s Pass. I hadn’t really thought of the possibility until just now, to tell you the truth, but now that I have, I’ve got an idea.” He turned to Keld. “You’ve been through the mountains before. You and your brother escorted the Arahir envoys to the Ulak once or twice, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Liulfur and I made that trip four times,” Keld replied.

  Lorial couldn’t help noticing that Keld looked a little sad as he spoke.

  For a moment, Keld was silent. Then he shook away the mood that had taken him and smiled again. “Anyway, I think I know where you’re going with this. You want to cut through the mountain range and just head straight to Ensari.”

  “Basically,” Ishtvan said. “Do you remember the Ulak paths well enough?”

  “I think so. If you want to leave now, we can reach the nearest trailhead just after sunset.”

  “You can leave just like that?” Ishtvan checked.

  “The innkeeper and I have an understanding,” Keld told him. “Now, let’s get ready.”

  IV. The Ulak

  They reached the trailhead in the early evening, just as Keld had predicted.

  “No wonder not many people know about these paths,” Lorial remarked.

  To reach it, they had climbed through a crack in the bottom of a cliff face, scrambled over a heap of rubble, descended fifty feet below the ground and then made their way up through a network of caves until they emerged somewhere on a ridgeline.

  “Yes, there’s a reason not too many people know about the Ulak,” Keld said. “Come on. With luck, we might be able to reach one of the guard shelters.”

  “Are they likely to welcome us with open arms?” Lorial asked. “We are dropping in uninvited here and with all the fighting near here, these people might not be feeling overly hospitable to strangers right now.”

  “The Ulak are always generous to those in need,” Keld said. “And they can tell their friends from their enemies.”

  They traveled late into the night until they saw a light from a small cabin ahead and two figures coming down the path towards them. They were strong in build, their skin tougher than human skin and their heads each adorned with two horns that curled down then forward. Yet despite this, they were handsome even by human measures.

  “Greetings, my friends,” one of the men said, his voice resonant and warm.

  “Greetings,” Keld replied. He introduced himself and his companions. “We’re seeking passage through the mountains.”

  The Ulak who had spoken frowned. “That may not be possible. There’s a Korlaki near the western paths.”

  Keld and Ishtvan exchanged glances.

  Lorial turned to them. “What’s a Korlaki?”

  “A relic from a bygone era,” Ishtvan told her. “One of the fallen mages created them in the first war. They should have all died out a long time ago but there are a handful of them left in deep caves around the place and they seem to live indefinitely.”

  “And they’re very dangerous, are they?” Lorial asked.

  “If the one that’s terrorizing the eastern paths is typical of its kind, they’re lethal,” the first Ulak guard told her. “This is an extremely agile and aggressive creature. I don’t know if it’s evil as such. It kills in the manner of any beast that consumes flesh to survive but...” He let the words hang in the air.

  Keld turned to Ishtvan. “Maybe we should just chance Avani’s Pass.”

  Ishtvan shook his head. “No. Those riders from the other night are expecting us to go there and that gives them too much of an advantage. A few archers could cover the pass and we’d never even see them.”

  He looked back at the Ulak. “Sorry. Just consulting.”

  The spokesperson of the two Ulak shrugged. “That’s all right. However, as you’ve come this far, you should rest. And you’re welcome to whatever other hospitality we can offer. Then tomorrow, if you want my advice, you should keep going to the villages and find Amoraak. He may be able to help you.”

  The following morning, they left the Ulak guards and set out for the main villages, following a ridgeline that crossed the main range. There were much higher mountains a little way to the north but by and large, the mountains this far south didn’t tower over the surrounding landscape quite as much as those at the far northern end of the range.

  Lorial looked at the sharpened precipices of rock that pierced the thick dark clouds that had enveloped the range overnight, piercing them like twisted blades. These peaks were unlike the northern mountains in more ways than one. This was a barren land, as lifeless as the desert wastes of Damasi.

  “How can the Ulak survive up here?” she asked. “What do they eat?”

  “They manage to grow some crops in terraced fields near their villages,” Keld told her. “And there are plenty of mountain goats around here as well. They’re even greater survivors than the Ulak.”

  “Have they always lived in these mountains?”

  Keld smiled. “Who, the Ulak or the goats?”

  Lorial laughed. “The Ulak.”

  “No,” Keld said. “Sól found them on the plains of Agamon early in the initial fighting with Strahd and the Angdar.”

  “Where is Agamon?”

  “North of Hadras, east of Aracea.”

  “And what was Sól doing out there?”

  “Well oddly enough,” Keld said, “she was trying to find where the Angdar had come from to see if there was a way to stem the tide of Strahd’s armies. And, as it turned out, she found his answers in the Ulak. They had been enslaved by the armies of Kharadaan for a time, bred and magically altered and eventually, their bastard offspring became a people of their own, sharing the Ulak’s strength and stature but little else.” He shook his head. “The Angdar are violent brutes. Anyway, Sól led the Ulak here.”

  They traveled all through the day and well into the night, stopping for short rests. Then, just before the following dawn, they came to a number of villages with thatched houses cradled against the mountain slopes. Beneath them, Lorial saw the terraced fields that Keld had told her about, all joined together by small stairways, while farther down the slopes gave way to sheer cliffs that plunged into valleys.

  Back the way they had come, over the mountains and far off in the distance, Lorial saw the rising sun, its light glimmering off the higher snow–capped peaks like molten diamonds.

  Keld waved his hand, indicating the nearest group of homes. “Well, this is the main village. If Amoraak’s close by, this is where we’ll find him.”

  As they reached the buildings, a group of Ulak came out to greet them, the head of the group smiling at Keld in recognition. “Keld,” he said, clasping his hand.

  “Mebarak,” Keld replied. “It’s been a while.”

  Mebarak grew solemn. “It has. I was sorry to hear about Orishelm. And I was equally sorry to hear about Liulfur.”

  “Thank you,” Keld said. He held Mebarak’s hand a moment longer before letting go and turning to Ishtvan and Lorial in order to introduce them.

  “We need to see Amoraak,” he then said. “We want to traverse the range and go down the paths to the western plains.”

  Mebarak frowned. “Didn’t the sentries tell you about the Korlaki?”

  Keld nodded. “They did. But we have to try. We must reach either Ensari or Kalishar and Avani’s Pass may be being watched.”

  “I see.” Mebarak was silent for a moment. “Well, Amoraak will be back soon from a hunt. Why don’t you and your companions join us for breakfast while you’re waiting?”

  They ate well and Amoraak arrived shortly after they had finished. He wasn’t large when compared to the other Ulak men, and he appeared to be older than them, but he was no less impressive for it.

  “Mebarak tells me you have to cross the western ridge,” he said to them. “And that you’d rather risk the Korlaki than brave Avani’s Pass.” He looked at Keld. “I assume you’ve weighed the choices carefully and that you’re not doing this out of bravado or sheer stupidity.”

 
; Keld shook his head. “I’m too old for bravado. And I’m probably too old for stupidity.”

  Amoraak smiled. “Very well.”

  “We have to assume Avani’s Pass is being watched,” Keld said. “As bad as the Korlaki is, a dozen archers waiting in ambush seems more dangerous to me. I don’t imagine the Korlaki’s expecting us for one thing.”

  “True,” Amoraak said. “And it acts out of instinct rather than malice. But it’s a dangerous creature.”

  “That’s true,” Keld agreed. “We’d be careful of course but –”

  Amoraak held up a hand. “No, we wouldn’t dream of allowing you to go alone. My people are at least familiar with this creature. We will accompany you.”

  “We don’t want to endanger anyone unnecessarily,” Keld said.

  Amoraak shook his head. “No. Your coming here is the prompting I needed. Sooner or later, we will have to deal with Korlaki because we can’t have the western paths closed to us indefinitely. So why not now?”

  “Well, if you think so,” Keld said.

  “I do,” Amoraak said, stopping any argument. “And now you and your companions must rest. I have to think. All things being equal, we’ll set out in the morning.”

  When they awoke the next day, the group shivered. It was noticeably colder than it had been the night before and a layer of snow covered the ground around the village. A blizzard had descended upon them.

  “It looks like we won’t be able to go anywhere today,” Amoraak told them later in the morning. “I’m afraid this sometimes happens. It’s out of season, certainly, but it’s not uncommon for winter to occasionally rear its head again in the early days of spring.”

  “Is there nothing we can do?” Lorial asked him.

  “Shall I wave my hand and make it stop?” Amoraak suggested with a smile. “No, I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait it out.”

  He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. By the end of the day, it’ll probably blow itself out and we’ll be able to set out tomorrow. I’m sure of it.”

  Amoraak was right. By late afternoon, the blizzard was gone. Unfortunately though, they couldn’t set out the next day as Lorial had hoped because with a lot of half– melted ice about, the Ulak didn’t think it was safe to travel on the path yet. However, the day after that, the weather was clear and the conditions on the path looked much better.