Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  Baram raised his eyebrows and sighed as he nodded in agreement.

  “All set,” he said.

  I smiled once more as we headed for the door that would start us on our search.

  The cold night air greeted us with its chilly embrace as we stepped into the darkness. But we had not gone more than twenty paces before Baram stopped, turned, and stared up towards his home. Following his gaze, I looked up and saw that Kendra stood at the window. She was illuminated by the light from inside and was waving forlornly at her departing love. Baram stood as still as stone, watching for brief moments before raising his own huge hand in his gesture of farewell, his gaze remained unmoving from the window. I knew I had to try just one final time…

  “You know I won’t think any less of you my friend, if you wish to return.”

  Baram said nothing. So I decided to press a little further.

  “Indeed, it would be the actions of a wise man to favour a warm bed and an even warmer embrace rather than the cold nights to be had in the wilderness.”

  Baram returned from his thoughts to turn and look at me fondly.

  “Thank you, my friend.” He placed on huge leather covered hand upon my shoulder. “But I still need to do this, as much for her as for me,” he added.

  He then turned and walked down the street heading off in the direction of the stables.

  Glancing up at his home one last time, seeing nothing more than a lighted window, I turned to join my companion.

  King Silverstone had chosen the hour well. The streets were almost void of people as we headed ever nearer the stables. The patrons that frequented the many taverns had long since departed from their nightly haunts, and only a few of the houses we passed still showed signs of life from their lighted windows.

  We were now deep into the western district, and not more than fifty strides from the stable’s entrance when we heard the sounds of many heavy footsteps striking the cobblestones from around the next bend.

  “The city watch,” whispered Baram in hushed tones. I looked at him and then myself. It would have taken too long to explain why two heavily armed men were walking the streets at such an hour, and time was a luxury we could not afford. I knew the King would have told few about who we were, and about the job he had commissioned, so I took the only option left available.

  “Quick! Into the shadows!” I urged.

  Squeezing into a dark gap between two houses proved no easy feat for the giant weaponsmith. His chest was so broad that it actually touched one of the houses whilst his back was pressed against the other.

  I threw myself into the shadows and pushed myself close to Baram as two rows of six armoured soldiers passed us by. Once I was sure that they had gone, I slid back out into the street only to find Baram remaining between the gap.

  “Taragon! Your arm please if you will?” came a muffled voice from within the darkness.

  “What is it?”

  “I appear to be stuck somewhat,” said the invisible weaponsmith.

  Thrusting out my hand whilst smiling to myself, I found Baram’s and pulled him free from the gap.

  “Thanks, I’m glad to be outta there,” he said relieved.

  “Come, we wasted too much time,” I warned, “let us be swift,” and we quickened our pace.

  A lighted lantern cast its radiance on three horses and two people that stood waiting upon our arrival at the stables. As we neared, I made out the young boy who had stabled our horses standing next to a short, stout man with a potbelly who held the lantern.

  The eyes of the pot-bellied man were cast wearily upon us, and I almost thought I saw him take a step back as Baram entered into the lanterns light.

  “Have no fear, we mean no harm,” I reassured.

  The stout looking man gave an uneasy nod as he placed his free hand onto the boy’s shoulder.

  I turned my attention towards the boy kneeling at eye level with him once again.

  “Well hello again, I see you have done a fine job as usual.”

  Storm, Anvil and the packhorse were there loaded with our packs and ready for the off. Baram took the reins of his horse and gently caressed its neck.

  “They are fine horses, sir. Everything is as you asked. I’ve fed and watered them recently, so they will not tire for a while.”

  The boy looked up at the pot-bellied man.

  “This is my father, Betrim.” The man nodded a greeting upon hearing his name.

  “He said I should not be alone, so he accompanied me here.”

  “A noble gesture and rightly so,” I agreed whilst acknowledging Betrim in return. “So tell me what is your name boy?”

  “Karl,” smiled the boy.

  “Well Karl.” I reached into my money pouch and searched for a gold coin by the light of the lantern.

  “As promised, here is the gold coin for you, and well deserved.” Karl smiled broadly as he held the coin up for his father to see. Betrim smiled back as he patted his son on the shoulder.

  “Now Karl, I have but one more final request. Can you find me some cloth rags? Enough say to cover the hooves of our horses?”

  Karl nodded. “I know where some are. There is a pile of cloth sacks that we used for the horse’s feed just over there.” The boy pointed to a small hut in the darkness.

  “Could you use those?” he asked.

  “Yes, they will be ideal,” I answered.

  Karl eagerly led me by the arm to the pile of the empty grain sacks. Grabbing an armful, I took them back to the horses and began tearing the sacks at various places before proceeding to wrap the resulting strips around the hooves of Storm. Seeing my intention, Baram did the same to Anvil, and even Betrim and Karl helped by clothing the hooves of the packhorse.

  I turned to Baram. “It is better that we should walk them to the eastern gate.”

  Baram nodded his approval.

  “We should be unseen by the city watch as they won’t make their next rounds for another hour,” he declared.

  “Good.”

  Tying the packhorse to the back of Storm’s saddle, we stowed our food packs from Kendra and made ready for the off.

  “Thank you again young Karl, now off to your bed with you, and I would appreciate it if you said little of this to anyone.”

  “The boy knows when to talk and when not to,” said Betrim.

  “Thank you Betrim. Karl.” And with a farewell nod in their direction, Baram and I led the horses from the stable area and headed for the eastern gate.

  The journey across Ranak-Lore was a swift and silent one. The padding we had applied around the horses’ hooves effectively muffled their passing over the hard cobblestones. As we made our way through the many moonlit streets, we encountered few people. Those that we did meet were either too intoxicated to care or knew better than to try and stop two fully armoured men and enquire after their concerns. Before I knew it, the eastern gate came into view.

  My eyesight was quite good in the darkness, as it generally had to be. I could make out a raised portcullis and saw that one of the huge wooden gates lay open to the outside world. I could also make out the shape of a low, long building, which stood just to one side of the gate. Apart from that, I could see nothing but the night. My sword hand rested uneasily upon the hilt of my sword as we drew ever closer.

  I could almost feel the tension Baram, and I shared as we reached the gate.

  “Mr Stein I presume?” rasped a familiar voice with all the charm of a viper.

  Turning to my left, I saw two fiery red coals glaring at me from within the darkness.

  “Luka, always a pleasure.” I greeted slyly.

  “And I see you have brought Mr Oakengood with you too.”

  “Luka,” greeted Baram uneasily.

  “I think we can risk a small amount of light wouldn’t you say?”

  But before I could, Luka had materialised a small glowing ball of red light that he held in the palm of his hand.

  The light immediately bathed the area around us in it
s unearthly glow. It was then that the horse and rider behind Luka became visible.”

  “Gentlemen,” began Luka, “This is my apprentice, Jaramel.”

  “The figure on the horse crossed his arms he brought them up to near his forehead in the standard greeting of a wizard.

  “Jaramel Ovin, at your service sirs,” announced a young sounding voice.

  I studied the young apprentice with some interest. This is the man we would be travelling with until we found this Soul Crystal. Our lives could well depend on this young wizard someday. I could not see much of him in this light, but he couldn’t have been any more than eighteen years of age. He was dressed in a hooded travelling cloak of what appeared to be brown cotton, but in this light, it could just have well have been bright orange! It covered his length and stopped just below his knees. He wore trousers of cloth and riding boots of leather. Around his waist was wrapped a thick looking belt that appeared to have several pouches attached to it. Stuck into the side of this belt was a small curved blade that was sheathed.

  Judging by his looks, he did not seem to be the type of person who would be of much use in a battle. But that was the tricky thing with magic users. You could never quite tell what sort of powers they concealed within, as I had first found out to my misfortune many years ago.

  I just nodded a quick greeting towards the young apprentice.

  “Mr Stein,” sounded Luka, “Jaramel is an accomplished apprentice who is adept in his use of the arts, and I have trained him in all the knowledge I possess regarding the Soul Crystal.”

  Luka reached within his cloak to produce a rolled piece of parchment, which he then preceded to hand to me.

  “This map is what we know of the north, you will see it’s incomplete as that area has been greatly unexplored by the South for obvious reasons, but it still may prove to be of some use.”

  The master wizard reached once more into unseen compartments.

  “And here is the King’s seal on this scroll for the attention of Governor Talak of the North. With this, you will be able to pass freely through the Great Divide.”

  Stowing the map and the sealed parchment in my saddlebags, I made ready for the road.

  “One final thing Mr Stein. The King wishes me to send you his good tidings, and the speed of the Gods for the journey at hand.”

  “Thank the King for his kind words. What will Ranak-Lore and the King do now?” I enquired.

  Luka seemed to be staring into my soul again. For brief seconds that seemed longer than they were, he stood and looked at some far off place within me.

  “We are going to prepare for your failure Mr Stein,” came the cool, cold reply.

  “Cheery,” I thought.

  “Do not misjudge me,” countered Luka even though no words left my lips. “We are counting on you to return with the Crystal. But both you and I know that the mission ahead is a perilous one. I will give the King what counsel I can, but you must understand even with the Soul Crystal there is an element of failure, for nothing is certain.”

  “Your honesty is…appreciated Luka, but I don’t intend to give up just yet.”

  “Then I wish you well Mr Stein.”

  Luka bowed once in my direction then turned to Jaramel as Myself and Baram started removing the cloths from our horses’ hooves.

  “Reekin mullous tanagar ve-jetin allom,” said the Court Mage in some unintelligible tongue.

  “Allacra frotonus master,” came Jaramel’s strange reply.

  After mounting Storm, I turned to Baram.

  “Let’s ride. We have a Crystal to find.” Baram nodded in response.

  “Luka.” I bowed in gesture at the fiery-eyed wizard before kicking at the flanks of Storm to gallop off into an uncertain future beyond the gates of Ranak-Lore.

  Chapter Six:

  Camp was made in a dry riverbed, hidden from the road some twenty miles north of Ranak-Lore. It was only another two miles to the nearest town, but I had decided against travelling there this night because if anyone had been watching our departure, it would have been the first place they would have looked. Not that I was overly worried about being followed by any possible pursuers at present, we were still deep in the south, so safe from any of the troubles that the north had to offer. For now, at least we could relax somewhat. The watch was taken in turns, and I volunteered first. A watch was still needed even though we were in familiar territory, as I did not fancy becoming a midnight snack for a party of roaming Razorbears, or Wolvern pack. But scanning the tree line a little way from the riverbed revealed nothing but the night and the sounds that come with it. Looking back to the camp, I could see the glow from our fire reaching up from the riverbed to create a haven of light into the gloom. I could not see Baram or Jaramel from where I sat, but I knew they were awake, as every now and again the deep voice of Baram would reply in answer to some question of Jaramels.

  I remembered how surprised I was when we first made camp after the ride and seeing Jaramel’s eyes properly for the first time. They glowed like his master’s, a fiery red, but to a lesser extent. Probably something to do with the magicks running through their veins. I had not noticed them before when we had first met in Ranak-Lore, as the red glow from Luka’s light had first disguised this fact. I admitted to myself that they bothered me somewhat, and I could not help wondering whether this was going to be a burden to me later on or not. I pulled my blanket tighter around myself against the chill of the night and tried not to think anymore on the matter.

  Well here I am again Taragon, I thought to myself. Another day, another job. How would this one turn out I wonder? Looking up to the sky revealed the moon starting to appear from behind a dark bank of clouds to lighten the area around me with its silvery glow. This improved my vision, but there was still nothing to see. I started thinking about tomorrow. We should ride through the next town and carry on towards Galma.

  Galma. The name brought back a wealth of memories. Galma was only five miles from my birthplace of Fretham. Galma was a small town where I spent a lot of my young adult years; fond memories of Uncle Darack filled my thoughts. I thought about Darack and wondered if he was still alive. Maybe I should pass by Fretham and pay my regards. I toyed with the idea but dismissed it just as fast, too many memories. Maybe after this job was done.

  The clouds continued their journey across the sky as the night moved on. Kicking Baram softly in the side signalled his watch. He awoke grumbling and mentioning Kendra’s name as he did. I looked over at the sleeping bundle of Jaramel.

  “Wake him in two hours for his watch.” I urged.

  Baram yawned, nodded, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes all at the same time. Passing him my blanket, I settled down to the rough bed he had made for himself and drifted off into an uneasy sleep. Fretham, how long had it been?…Darack…Home…

  We broke camp just after dawn and set off along the road. Dark clouds threatened rain, and by mid-afternoon, the heavens opened. Until now the roads had been kind to us, but now they slowed our progress, so much so that our horses were eventually forced to move at a walk through the thick mud. We had journeyed only half the distance to Galma and were due to stop for rest anyway, so I scanned the road ahead of us in an effort to find a refuge from the downpour. The path we travelled led through an undulating area of small hillocks that rose on either side to block our view for any great distance. Large boulders could be seen protruding from within these grassy mounds, glistening in the rain they looked like huge grey jewels just waiting to be dug from the earth. Trees were sparse in this landscape, and the rain did little to better my view. I looked around. Nothing! No shelter from the downpour which was now beginning to feel uncomfortable. I looked back to Baram who rode behind the packhorse.

  “Keep your eyes open for shelter,” I yelled.

  Baram raised his hand in understanding.

  We continued on for another half a mile until a shout called out from behind.

  I slowed Storm and turned in my saddle.

&nbs
p; “Taragon, over there!” It was Baram, and he was pointing to a large overhanging rock some twenty metres from the road. I looked up at the relentless heavens, and it seemed as if the rain was never going to stop.

  I nodded my head and turned off the road, leaving Baram and Jaramel to follow as I headed towards the overhang. The sheltering of rock was large and dry at its centre for which I was thankful, but there was no room for our rides as well. Tying our mounts at the edge of the outcrop was the only option for the horses. At least this provided some shelter for the beasts. Saddles were removed and used as backrests, Baram also took this opportunity to remove his food pack from the packhorse before settling down against his saddle in the centre of the overhang. After making sure, the horses were secure and content I returned to the duo who were both in the process of chewing on some sort of round biscuits.

  “No wonder you haven’t a woman to call your own Taragon, you spend too much time caring for that horse of yours,” jested Baram with a smirk whilst holding up a large round biscuit in the offering.

  “I have many women I can call my own,” I replied, “ but none that can carry me such a distance,” I smirked back as I took hold of the biscuit for closer inspection.

  “Oatmeal cakes!” announced Baram.

  “Kendra must have made me some and stowed them in my sack without my knowing. She knows there my favourites,” he added.

  Sitting next to the weaponsmith, I bit into the cake. The moist taste of wild berries and sweet oatmeal ran happily over my taste buds.

  “Mmm it’s good,” I replied. Baram smiled and bit into another with an agreeing nod of satisfaction.

  Jaramel meanwhile sat huddled in his brown cloak to Baram’s right quietly eating his cake. I glanced over to see his two shining red eyes peering out into the sheets of rain that cascaded beyond the edge of the overhang. I had not spoken to the young apprentice much since we had left Ranak-Lore, partly because I had nothing to say to him, and partly because I had not made my mind up about the curious mage.

  “Looks like it’s not going to relent for a while,” said Baram as he motioned towards the rain whilst finishing off his second cake.