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The Tomb of the Dark Paladin

Page 7

by Tom Bielawski


  Standing before the hurkin king were Gavinos and Coronus; the dour high priest of Umber was nowhere to be seen. A few hurkin soldiers stood about the room, lazily watching their liege and his advisers. Cannath, sword sheathed, walked down the rich carpet that led to the throne. He stopped behind the two elves, inwardly furious that they seemed not to notice him, prepared to draw and strike them both dead with his sword.

  Yet, the rightful thayne of Hybrand stayed his hand.

  "Your fleet is arriving now, King Ognadrog," said Gavinos. "By tomorrow all of your warships will be in the bay. They await orders to sail on Arnathia."

  Arnathia? They plan to invade the Arnathian Empire, he thought to himself. Once he would have thought that such a thing were impossible, yet Arnathia was on the very precipice of breaking apart. He thought it odd that the elves would choose to speak to the hurkin king in Cklathish, but that thought drifted away as the conversation continued.

  "What do the reports say of expected resistance?" asked Ognadrog. "It will be some time before my ground supplies begin to arrive in Hybrand, though it will go much more swiftly now that I rule the Eastern Kingdoms."

  "The Arnathian eastern provinces are in unrest. The latest reports show that the emperor's state of paranoia is so great that he has withdrawn most of his forces from the provinces to Arnathia Proper. The eastern provinces that stand between you and the Arnathian throne are in turmoil. They struggle to find a national identity for themselves in a futile hope of raising a standing army. Hurkromin's annexation of Hybrand has not gone unnoticed."

  "They will fall," said Coronus in his dark voice. Ognadrog nodded and Gavinos seemed to agree. What hope was there left for the world? Cannath knew that thanks to his own greed and lust for power, the last barrier to prevent the darkness of Hurkromin from spreading west had fallen. "Nothing will stop you short of the border of Arnathia Proper."

  "What news from Shalthazar?" asked the king, regaining the instant attention of both elves.

  "The great wizard is consumed with a task that Umber has assigned him. The Tomb of the Dark Paladin lies hidden in the north and Shalthazar seeks it with great urgency."

  "Why would he want to find that?" asked the hurkin. "Nothing but the ghost of a betrayer to find there."

  "Umber believes that the Everpool is located within the tomb and protected by the ghost."

  "So, I'm supposed to send my combat troops to find this hidden pool when I am preparing to invade Arnathia?" demanded Ognadrog angrily.

  "You may disregard those orders, King. I will return to Shalthazar and bring my own regiment of troops in your stead."

  Gavinos looked at Coronus in shock, it seemed to Cannath that he would argue the wisdom of defying Umber's chosen puppet. Instead, he simply nodded.

  "It's Umester. Isn't it?" asked the king suddenly. This time there was a palpable emotion in the hurkin's voice and Cannath suspected it was fear. Who was Umester? Neither of the two elves answered the king, but they didn't have to.

  "By all the hells!" grumbled Ognadrog.

  "Since, mighty king, your wisdom has already discerned the truth..." began Gavinos. Cannath felt his blood pulsing at the sly elf's conniving voice. "You must understand that this is truly a sensitive topic. Perhaps even Shalthazar does not understand the portent of freeing Umester from his prison."

  "So," drawled the king in a voice that sounded like a dog growling. "The foreigner doesn't even know that he works to find his own replacement? That's why you've been kissing his backside all this time!"

  "His usefulness has nearly run its course. He was the only one who could fill the pathetic Nashian prophecy and give them the impetus to conquer the north. Now that it is safely under our control, it is a matter of time before the Tomb of the Dark Paladin is found."

  "And Umber has the Order of the Black Sigil to fight for him," added Coronus.

  "Do you think they will be willing to transfer their loyalty so easily?" asked the king. "You know how wizards are; they will keep to their magic -and to Shalthazar- above all else." When neither of the elves seemed inclined to comment, the king went on. "What will be the place of King Ognadrog the Merciless with Umester walking the world? What will be your places, for that matter?"

  "As the bearers of the power of the Shadowtide, our places are secure. Your own will be based upon performance of your duties." Gavinos was a powerful minion of Umber and carried within himself a vital piece of the power that Umber called Shadowtide. He guessed there would be others besides himself and Coronus.

  "That, Gavinos, sounded like a threat!" the angry king stood and held aloft his mace. The hurkin was every bit of seven feet tall!

  "A promise," quipped the elf, unintimidated.

  "I liked Umber better when he was silent and out of reach," grumbled the king as he sat back down, sulkily tossing his massive mace to the side.

  "Umester was imprisoned for a reason," said Coronus, a distant look in his eye. "Despite Gavinos' optimism, there exists a potential danger to us all considering the chaotic nature of Umber's child."

  Umber's child? thought Cannath, incredulous. It seemed beyond reason that such a thing could be true. And it seemed that not everyone here was pleased with the prospect of the bastard child of the dark lord walking the lands of Llars. Despite his bellyaching, Cannath thought that the hurkin seemed more confident than he should be.

  Now, more than ever, Cannath resisted the urge to draw his sword and slay all three of these men. A measure of wisdom drifted through his vengeful brain. Should he tip his hand here and reveal himself to be anything but the puppet they assumed him to be, he would surely die. Coronus was a skilled magic wielder, and Gavinos was more a mystery now than ever -he had no idea what mischief his old adviser was capable of. Ognadrog and his guards would be bad enough in a one-to-one fight, never mind fighting them all at once. No, he would not win. And then what revenge would he have? No, he must calculate his revenge. Hybrand was lost, the Eastern Kingdoms were lost, his people were lost. There was nothing he could do about any of that. But he could have revenge against the one who had orchestrated all of it, Umber.

  "What of the puppet?"

  "Cannath?" asked Gavinos. A stab of fury flashed over Cannath's visage as Gavinos cemented his role as a manipulator aloud. Cannath let the moment pass, for now he had bigger plans.

  "Why is he here?" demanded the hurkin, suddenly seeing Cannath for the first time. "How long have you been there, human?" It was at that moment that Cannath was overtaken by complete clarity of mind. The men did not know he was even there until that very moment, somehow he been invisible to them. It had to be the armor or the weapons or both! He didn't let his mind wander, however. The hurkin king had asked him a question and Cannath knew he had to play his hand wisely.

  "I've only just arrived, Og," he said casually, hoping to annoy the hurkin. "Didn't you see me walk in?"

  "I wouldn't have asked if I had!" said the king angrily. "Why didn't the page announce you?"

  "He's your page. Why don't you ask him, eh?" Cannath casually jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he inserted himself between the hurkin and the two elves. Cannath knew that Gavinos would be analyzing his sudden appearance in his mind until he found the answer. The elf would soon assume that the human king's new armor and weapon had something to do with his unnoticed appearance and the elf would find a way to part Cannath from them, but the rightful ruler knew his course

  Ognadrog made a rumbling sound in his chest that was not unlike the sound made by the great cats that roamed the northern wilderness. Cannath's mind raced and his hand twitched with anticipation. He desperately wanted to kill these men, even though he knew it meant that he would die in the process. But a sense of great disappointment cut through his haze of hatred and anger, and he somehow felt ashamed of himself for it. He felt a clarity of purpose and he knew what he must do. If he could not save his kingdom, or himself, from his own wrongdoing then he must do something to save the rest of the world from this pestilence.
r />   "Why doesn't the little thayne go and hold court with his subjects?" sneered Ognadrog.

  "Oh come now, Oggy. You know you've enslaved them all."

  The hurkin king laughed, the elves did not seem amused. Cannath noted that Gavinos was watching him with intense scrutiny, yet he could not trust himself to speak to his former friend.

  "This meeting is not for you, Thayne Cannath," said Coronus quietly. Cannath still got chills when that dark elf spoke, despite his soft-spoken demeanor.

  "I suppose it isn't," he said, walking towards the door. Gavinos watched him go, not saying a word.

  Cannath strode boldly down the carpeted walkway, eying the tapestries as he went. Although he saw the amazing artwork depicting centuries of Cklathish history, and the display of arms and armor that had served generations of Hyrbandese royalty, his mind was elsewhere. He was planning his next move and he knew that there was a very real chance that Gavinos would see him dead before he reached the castle gates. He really wanted to kill that elf, and he almost turned around to do it, but again he felt that something was propelling him to gain his revenge in a more powerful way. He opened the door and shoved the page aside, giving him a dour sneer.

  With renewed determination, Cannath headed for the castle gates.

  The Thayne of Hybrand walked out of the gate with no farewell, no royal send-off. The guards were mainly hurkin, vicious ugly things that respected none but their own officers. Cannath was fairly certain that the hurkin king would send a squad of hurkin soldiers to capture and imprison him, and he was ready for that fight, but it did not happen. The portcullis slammed shut behind him as he walked out into the cold, damp air. Sea gulls flew high above, attacking an osprey that dared to venture too close to their nests on the castle walls.

  He walked down the road paved with rocks hewn and placed by men who had served his family centuries ago. Their blood and toil seemed now seemed to have been spent for naught. Everywhere he looked he saw buildings, ships and things that reminded him of what he had sacrificed for his kingship. He had lost sight of it all in his lust for power, his lust for the kingship. Cannath of Hybrand finally got his kingship, and now he was king of nearly nothing. It seemed that Hybrand City was barely inhabited. The streets were quiet, aside from the booted feet of the patrols of the Hurkin Horde marching up and down the street. Surprisingly, Cannath felt some regret about that but he couldn't dwell on that; there were larger things to worry about now, after all. In the end, such abuses of the populace would harm the new occupiers, for there would soon be none left to support them with taxes and food.

  A bedraggled woman, head down, walked along the street toward a shop with a small child in tow. Cannath shook his head and quietly said, "This is what is left of my people." The woman must have heard him, or his heavy stride, and looked up. Recognition dawned in her eyes. She walked over to him and he was prepared to hear her beg him for help, a plea which he would have to refuse for he needed to get to the port quickly.

  "You foul, demon-spawn, filth! You're a sorry excuse for a thayne! Look what you've done to us!" she screamed, futilely swatting him with a shawl. "You've traded one demon for another, and this one is worse!" She broke down and began crying as she hit him and for once, Cannath had nothing to say. There was nothing to say. He was a failure. The child, hiding his body behind her skirts, gave him a dirty look. At first his pride wanted very much for him lay the woman out on the street for her insolence, but inside he knew he deserved it. He gently pushed the woman aside and continued on his way. Cannath felt something strike him on the back, the impact coincided with a shouted, "Craven!" He forced himself to ignore the taunt, gritting his teeth.

  He continued on, enduring the taunts that the woman shouted until she was out of hearing. Not surprisingly, precious few were drawn out to watch the spectacle. Of those few citizens that remained, most were terrified to be out lest they be abducted, enslaved or worse. Most of the homes in the city had been taken over by the soldiers of the Hurkin Horde for quartering of troops.

  Cannath made his way through town, encountering no one else save for a few bored hurkin soldiers, and found himself standing before the gates to Port Hybrand. The sky overhead was dark, evening was not far away. Gulls dived mercilessly from high above, bearing down toward their unseen victims blocks away. Cannath hated them, but they were remarkably good at killing rats.

  The massive gate stood open, and the port was busier than the thayne expected to see. He paused there for a long moment, savoring the memory of his victory over the Arnathians in what he later termed the Battle of Port Hybrand. The city fell to his troops, and those of Commander Coronus, shortly after. When the castle had been retaken, he found that Craxis had committed suicide and cheated the new thayne of his revenge.

  He seethed over that memory and pushed his way through the gate to the port area. The bustle of the port was due to the large presence of the Hurkin Horde. There were a number of their brooding black-sailed ships docked in port, and many more floating lazily in the harbor. The port businesses that thrived on servicing merchants and sailors had been allowed to continue to exist, as Ognadrog undoubtedly saw their usefulness. Still, he was angry to find that a number of the shops that had once been operated by Cklathmen were now home to hurkin merchants, a trend that the thayne expected would continue.

  He entered the first shop he could find that was manned by a human and understood the folly of not wearing a disguise. While it seemed that his armor and weapon might help him escape notice from those who were not expressly looking for him, he doubted that the assassins employed by Coronus and Gavinos would be so fooled.

  "What do you want?" scowled the shopkeeper, his bruised face told a sorry tale. "Ain't them fancy new clothes you got? Did your new master send you to fetch him some to match?"

  Cannath resisted the temptation to add more bruises to the man's collection. "I need a coat with a hood. Leather, weather-proof."

  "You got money, thayne?"

  Money. Cannath had completely forgotten to bring with him any money or supplies. He thought for a moment and removed a golden ring from his finger. He held it aloft and looked at it in the flickering light. It was a ring that Gavinos had brought back from Nashia or some other far-off place. For a moment he wondered if that ring had been the key to the elf's charm, but he felt no different as he laid it upon the table. "I will sell this ring to you, it is pure and its worth is considerable. Deduct what you will for the coat, and give me the remaining in gold coin."

  With a skeptical eye, the merchant picked up the ring. He took a small eyepiece from his pocket and looked closely at it. Without a word, he pocketed the ring and the eyepiece and led the thayne to a display of coats. Cannath put one on, pulling the hood over his head. It covered his armor and tabard well, and the shadows of the hood hid his face. The thayne was a tall man, taller than most Cklathmen and as tall as most hurkin. He hoped his height might help him pass casual scrutiny.

  "Made from beaver, that," said the merchant. "Some odd creature that only lives up north, it is. Waterproof as anything you'll find. Keep you warm, too, and lots of pockets." It was indeed a fine coat. It was also long, its bottom hem fell to his boot tops, and there were slits on the sides to allow free movement when fighting. The pockets were large and would hold a great many useful items.

  Cannath nodded, then held his hand out to the merchant who disappeared into a back room. The man returned with a small package, but hesitated to give it to him. "I have your coin, O Thayne. And I have a mind not to give it to you. I know you'd strike me dead and take it, so I'll not give in to temptation. A fool could see you're set for leaving Hybrand and you don't want no one to know. So, what makes you think I won't tell?"

  Cannath stared hard at the man. Finally he spoke.

  "All my life I wanted only to remove the yoke of Arnathian rule from my people, to relieve our suffering. Ever since I could speak, I've cursed and hated my great-uncle who sold our country to those bastards so long ago. When the ti
me came, and Gavinos and the Spiders had promises of freedom, I fell for it like a sucker." Cannath spoke so low and so angrily that the merchant had to listen closely so as not to miss anything. "I vowed not to repeat my family curse, ironically I did exactly that. I allied with a far more vile enemy to overcome the Arnathian Empire, already on the brink of destruction.

  "I wasted my life. I wasted the lives of my people. I wasted everything. Yes, I am leaving and I will not return. You wonder what will become of Hybrand?" asked the thayne, his eyes flickering in the light of the oil lamps. "I have lost my right to know. I have lost my right to rule. I have lost my right to care. Perhaps, I have even lost my right to live. I go to rectify my mistake the only way I can, and that is a way that will end with my death. I do not know if I will succeed. I do not know if Hybrand will survive. The House of Hyr, and its curse that has been the bane of this nation's existence, ends with me.

  "Do what you will, merchant," Cannath finished, his hand out. The merchant had been prepared to hear a number of things from his ruler's lips. But that was not one of them. He handed the thayne the package and grasped his arm.

 

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