The Tomb of the Dark Paladin

by Tom Bielawski

  "What do you want?" demanded Hala proudly. Inwardly she was nervous, she wanted to be gone from this town. Genn's eyes narrowed and recognition was on her face. She held her wand at her side and flicked it in a silent signal to Hala.

  "You are under arrest," came the bored reply. "Surrender your arms."

  "Whose authority do you carry, hurkin?" demanded Genn. Hala frowned. Hurkin? Could that be right? Hala was a skilled warrior but holding two hurkin warriors at bay, even with Genn and her magic at her side, would prove difficult.

  "The authority of the Rhi of Myrnwell, of course," he said, ambling closer. It was clear that neither of the men seemed to feel the least bit threatened by the women. They could not afford to hesitate if the Rhi's men were indeed closing in on the town. They had to escape!

  Hala closed her eyes, feigning an expression of fear. She called upon the ancient and powerful magic that only she and her kin could call upon, shape-shifting magic. A burst of amber light seemed to infuse the princess and in seconds her skin was covered in a sheen of dark fur. Her fingers lengthened and long claws protruded from their tips. Her face resembled that of a cat and her body rippled with muscles under the protective fur covering her body. She leaped from the back of her surprised and frightened mount landing lightly on the ground before a rapidly backtracking draft horse; she was a fearsome image of a cat-woman. The hurkin drew his sword and his kicked his horse, urging it to attack. However, the sight of the seven foot tall woman that looked like a jaguar spooked the mount and the rider could not keep it under control. She leaped into the air and wrapped her arms around the creature's neck even as the hurkin tried to beat her with his sword. Long claws raked great gashes in the thrashing mount's neck, unleashing a torrent of blood.

  She nimbly dropped to her feet and bounded a few paces away, claws out and ready to fight. The rider calmly rode his dying horse to the ground then stepped off, leaving the thrashing creature to its death and advanced upon the formidable cat-creature. A bright flash and a bang revealed that Genn was engaging the second rider. Hala stood her ground, daring the rider to get close enough to taste her claws. The hurkin obliged.

  Without missing a step, the armored rider advanced and swung his lance at her, testing and probing her reactions. A grim laugh sounded from behind the leering visage on his helm. When she advanced to attack, the rider defended and backed away.

  "Does it hurt when you change?" asked the rider in an eerie and hopeful voice. "I hope it hurts more when I bleed you slowly. I want to feel you die." He was taunting her, trying to prolong the duel. Whether he was perversely savoring the moment or simply drawing out her weaknesses, she couldn't be sure.

  "Then fight me!" she shouted, leaping high into the air. The hurkin rider stepped in and tried to gut her with an overhead stroke, but her powerful arm knocked the blade away and the sound of ringing steel split the air. The hurkin underestimated the strength the protection her magic-infused fur afforded her, he crashed to the ground under her momentum. The claws of her right hand penetrated the savage hurkin's visor and found flesh on his face while her left punctured metal and ripped the straps holding the armor to his arm.

  The hurkin was stunned, but not dead. As she ripped the visor from his face, he kicked her hard in the gut and she was forced to roll away. She crouched, ready to spring, but used the moment to glance at Genn. The other woman was locked in combat with her own enemy rider.

  Hala's opponent laughed as he wiped blood from his face. His bare arm bled from a gash made by her claw. The muscular hurkin faced her with his lance held in both hands. The hurkin closed the gap between them, ready to fight. Hala obliged and sprang forward, claws extended. Using her enhanced strength, she blocked the powerful warrior's blow and stepped in close, too close for a spear strike. Sensing that he made a fatal mistake, the hurkin spun away and tried to get out of the reach of her dangerous claws. But Hala was too fast. She slashed a terrible blow across the hurkin's flank as he twisted, splitting the metal of his armor and gouging the flesh beneath. Finally, the hurkin showed signs of weakening and grunted in pain as he stepped away. Hala slashed low, cutting the muscles behind the man's knee and he went down. The hurkin continued to fight, viciously swinging his spear in a protective arc. But in his weakened state, he was no match for the warrior-princess. Hala slashed with both arms, alternating blows from each side, until the hurkin lost all grip on his spear. Then she slashed him across the throat and ended it.

  Winded, she backed away from the scene of the battle to the edge of the road near a tree and leaned on it to catch her breath. The other hurkin seemed to have been subdued by Genn's spells and Hala let go of her hold on native power of the Jaguar Tribe. Her body returned to normal once again.

  That's when the rest of them arrived.

  More warriors were coming fast. The women could not flee, their mounts ran off in a panic when the fighting started. If they tried to flee afoot, the advancing horsemen would cut them down from behind. Wearily they faced the street, toward the inn they so recently vacated, and watched the horsemen approach. There were two more hurkin, armed and armored as the first, the others were humans with crossbows aimed at them.

  "This is what it comes down to?" asked Genn angrily. "It can't end here! I cannot go back!"

  Hala thought the woman's mumblings were curious, but she didn't have time to mull them over. She was not sure she was strong enough yet to change back into her feline form and fight off these men, and her pack and weapons were on her horse. Even so, she was a capable fighter and tried to think of a way to turn the odds in her favor.

  "It will not end this way!" Genn shouted, her fists held out to her sides. Hala thought she saw the air about the woman darken and come alive, but she couldn't take her eyes from the enemy soldiers long enough to be sure. The riders stopped a distance before the women but would not make the mistake of closing the distance with them.

  "You will pay dearly for killing my soldiers," said one of the skull-helmed hurkin riders. The speaker's armor was like the others but bore images of gold and there were curled ram's horns atop his helm. There was a deep anger in the heavily accented voice of the hurkin leader. "But not today. Today you will tell me things. Tomorrow I will kill you."

  "What do you want from us?" demanded Genn in anger. She seemed almost panicked to Hala.

  "Ahh, it is the little pet," said the hurkin condescendingly. "You will not enjoy my questioning, I think."

  Genn thrust a hand out and the image of a leering skull appeared in the air before her. The hurkin leader laughed until the skull flew across the distance between them, a trail of blue flames behind it. The skull screamed hideously as it went, causing everyone distraction. Then the skull slammed into the hurkin leader and exploded, dousing hurkin and horse in blue flames.

  A peel of thunder exploded in the skies above and a ball of fire appeared in the air, a trail of flames and smoke marked its path in the sky. Everyone looked up, even the indomitable hurkin seemed taken aback by its appearance. The humans under the command of the hurkin began to panic and one shouted, "Dragon!"

  Hala was fearful too, but there couldn't have been a better opportunity to flee. She and Genn ran together and that seemed to trigger the human warriors of the Rhi to scatter as well; only the hurkin tried to stand their ground against the looming fireball, fighting to hold their position as their horses protested. The fiery object streaked closer and closer as the women neared the tree line, roaring through the sky as it went. The fiery ball grew larger and thunderclaps seemed to herald its coming. Finally the ball of flame crashed into the dirt road near wear the hurkin warriors waited. The explosion of fire and dirt was more than their horses could handle and they bolted, one of them carried its rider away while other left its hurkin master on the ground. The force of the explosion knocked Genn to the ground and Hala fell hard into a prickly bush.

  She got to her feet quickly, intending to run as far and as fast as possible until she saw what was standing in the small crater in
the street. Genn got to her feet quickly and grabbed Hala by the shoulder intending to drag her away. When she realized Hala's feet were rooted to the ground she turned, following Hala's gaze.

  A man crouched on the ground, his body was aglow with soft flames and the air about him shivered in a cloudy vapor.

  "Carym!" whispered Hala.

  Bart stepped out of the Pathway Arch and knew immediately that he was on Llarsian soil. Ederick stepped out behind him, his face pale. "I never want to do that again," the knight growled.

  Bart nodded in agreement, but his first concern was figuring out where they were. The Pathway Arch took them to a mountainside that afforded them a good view of the landscape. He surveyed the rolling hills before him, and the signs of tiny villages here or there, and decided they must be somewhere in the Myrnnish countryside. He hoped that they would be able to pick up Carym's trail soon, for he had no idea how many days had passed since his departure.

  "By the love of Zuhr alone we managed to come out in Myrnwell, so we did."

  "We paid a stiff price to pass through that Hellish portal, Bart," Ederick said as he unconsciously put his hand on his wounded arm. Bart said nothing more, he wanted to put the horrible memories of the creatures and spirits that prowled the pathways as far behind him as he could. He looked back at the Pathway Arch behind him, wondering if he could use his magic to gain a better understanding of how to open the magical portal; but the arch was gone.

  "Better that it's gone," said the knight grimly. "We are not to speak of this again."

  "So we were told," said the bard, noncommittal. The knight's brow furrowed. They both agreed that what transpired in the pathways had been an incredibly terrifying ordeal. Ederick believed that the price of their passage was their agreement with a Cjii that patrolled the pathways, and their promise of silence. Bart, however, felt that they had paid their price in a far more profound way before they met the Cjii by ridding the pathway of a soul-stealing monster.

  Just then an explosion from above and a trail of flames streaked across the sky.

  "That looks like a dragon!" said Ederick. "It landed down there, near that village."

  "If it is a dragon," said the bard, suspiciously, "then it's hunting Carym, so it is."

  A sense of urgency pushed the weary men to hurry down the mountainside. They moved quickly through the dreary woods until they reached a road. Bart was reluctant to risk traveling in the open, but the situation seemed dire; they had to reach Carym in time!

  They trudged on climbing over fallen trees or stepping around pools of deep, cold mud. It was clear that this road was not frequently used, and with the abundance of obstacles, the going was little better than if they had traveled through the woods. Still, the road led them to the village before dark. The road they were on intersected with another road at the center of the village. It was clear there had been a battle, there were scorch marks on the buildings and some corpses were heaped in the back of a wagon.

  "Humans, hurkin," said the knight, cautiously checking the bodies and the scene of the battle. "Some wore the badge of Delfyd Rhi. There was definitely a battle, but there are no signs of a dragon."

  Bart closed his eyes and reached out to the Tides, letting the magic pour into his body. The Tides were swirling, rippling, it was clear there had been a magical disturbance here. He could sense the power that had moved the Tides in such a profound way; it was Carym.

  "Carym has been here," said the Bard.

  "What about the others?"

  "I can't say. But he was here. And it he went that way, so he did," said the bard, pointing to the road that led toward mountains looming in the distance.

  "How long ago?"

  Bart looked this way and that, like a hound seeking its pray. Without answering the knight, he started walking down the road but made a sudden right turn; Ederick followed cautiously behind. There had been a battle here and if Carym was on the winning side, Bart knew reinforcements could be here soon.

  They walked up to an inn and Bart almost went inside, instead he ducked into a tight alley between the inn and another building went to the back toward the stables. Ederick had his sword and shield out, ready for any attack. When they emerged from the alley, they were met by three people with weapons drawn and ready to fight.

  "Carym!" said the bard, relieved to see his friends were alive. Carym seemed different to his eyes somehow. "You like you've been through Hell, so you do!"

  "You have no idea," Carym replied with a smile, but his eyes were troubled. "You don't look any better, but stories will have to wait. It was Zuhr's good fortune that you found us, for we must leave quickly."

  "Aye," replied the bard. "The stories will wait."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  C H A P T E R

  E L E V E N

  ~

  Zach turned and noticed for the first time that the plateau they were on was more like a shelf with sheer walls to the right and left. Straight ahead was another sheer wall, but this one framed an archway with mysterious lettering. Balzath sauntered up to the arch and stepped inside.

  Zach slowed his pace and let the priest and the wizard slip past him, feigning interest in the writing about the arch. Finally he entered, having allowed enough time for an ambush to kill off the others if it were going to happen. He stepped inside. The tunnel was not unlike those that he and Carym had followed on their journey back to the surface from Lordsdeep, here it was gradually descending. He followed along cautiously in silence, the darkness illuminated by dim glowing lights floating along near Urelis and Balzath.

  The farther away from the entrance they went, the warmer the air became. The weather outside was going to turn worse soon, and Zach did not care to be anywhere near it. The relative warmth improved his mood and he felt better about the journey, he only wondered what it was the ogres had that Shalthazar wanted.

  "Balzath!" barked Ebonaar. "We need to stop."

  "Aww, are you tired?" she asked patronizingly. Zach smirked, but he knew he wouldn't mind stopping either

  "This looks like as good a place as any to stop," offered Urelis. Zach knew he would be complaining soon too, if they didn't stop now. Balzath ignored the wizard and looked at Zach.

  "What says our scout?"

  "Stay or go, I care not," he said with feigned disinterest.

  "Alright, boys. Let's stop here."

  Zach dropped his pack to the ground and laid out his bedroll. He was the only one who was not famished, the others tore eagerly into their food. But Zach hadn't been eating much of late, he truly hadn't felt the need. While the other three ate and talked, or complained, Zach drifted off to sleep.

  Zach was awakened by the soft presence of the witch alongside him and he knew it was his time to stand watch. When the witch slipped quietly into the bedroll without so much as an inappropriate grope, he found himself oddly disappointed. Then he shook off the nonsensical feelings and moved to the edge of their makeshift camp. He stepped over the sleeping priest, tempted to accidentally step on his head.

  The tunnel was quiet, deathly so. His mind wandered to what this mission was truly about. What great secret could the mysterious ogres be hiding that someone like Shalthazar would need so badly? Balzath had been tight-lipped on the subject, despite his efforts to glean information from her. He was convinced the others knew as little as he did. One thing was certain, he had heard Balzath mention a terrible name in her sleep: Umester. A few short years ago that name would have earned a scoff from the assassin, but nothing seemed too far-fetched to him anymore. And from what he knew of the ancient lore, Umester was a terrible being. That might explain the terror he detected in the voice of the sleeping witch.

  Zach stared off into the darkness, alternating his watch in each direction. The dagger seemed to call him then, and he instinctively grasped his handle. However, when his hand closed over the hilt he did not feel the usual comfort of the blade's power, instead he felt its desperate thirst. Morloth wanted to feed, and the desire manifested itself
within his own body. He hungrily eyed the sleeping forms of his companions, but he knew he must not harm them; yet.

  Then a strange thing happened, he could almost feel the vibrations through the air of the beating hearts of each his three companions. It was a powerful sensation that urged him to kill, but he forced himself to ignore it. He sensed the presence of more beating hearts a distance farther down the passageway in the direction they were heading. Somehow he could tell those beating hearts were not human; whatever they were, they were hale and strong. Considering that he could not sense anything from behind, he decided to explore the tunnel ahead and see what it was that his dagger's profound senses had picked up.

  With Morloth firmly in hand, he padded silently down the tunnel. With dagger enhanced sight the assassin needed no light to see. The walls and floor were plain and smooth, as before. The farther he went, the stronger the sensation of approaching prey became. He felt hungry, ravenously so, and he desperately wanted to satiate the blade. Finally, he heard voices ahead, guttural, vicious. There was another sound; it was a soft scratching like fingers clawing at a wall. He came to a stop where the tunnel opened into a small chamber. Oddly, the sound seemed to be coming from the behind the wall. He sensed a number of hearts beating behind the wall and the scratching sounds seemed to be growing louder.

  As he stepped closer to the wall to listen, a particularly loud crack sounded and a piece of the rock wall fell away. Zach hopped back to a safe distance and watched, alert for danger and intensely curious. He heard some soft but very distinct voices, though he could not understand what they were saying. More of the rock wall fell away and a small creature climbed through.