My legs carried me across the courtyard. With no particular direction in mind, I found myself standing before the northern gate of the fort. Watchful eyes of guards were felt upon me as I walked through its opening. I thought an acknowledgement of some sort was called for, so I gave a friendly nod of reassurance to one of them, but the gesture was not returned.
Beyond the gate, the land was even more abundant with staked spikes than that to be found on the southern entrance of the fort. I now walked upon a wide path that led between the defences. The trail continued level for another twenty paces or so before sloping gently downwards towards my now intended goal… The Nazoran Battle Plains.
I stood before them like a wanderer upon the shores of destiny. My fate could now well lie somewhere within these lands. A fate that could end up like my father’s.
I scanned the plains before me. They stretched off into an uncertain distance as far as the eye could see. Nothing ever grew here. Nothing ever wanted too. Things just died upon this land. I raised a foot and took my first awkward step upon the northern territories. The earth was hard beneath my feet. I continued another ten paces forwards before stopping to crouch down to collect a handful of the dry earth. I looked briefly upon the unfertile soil in the palm of my hand, and then closing my fist tightly to encase it, I closed my eyes in past remembrance ...
“Son, it is every soldier’s duty to fight for his King, and if necessary lay down his life for the good of the land.” My father knelt in front of me and laid a gauntleted hand upon my shoulder. I could almost feel the weight of it now.
“Don’t worry yourself son, I don’t intend to die this day, and besides, I will need your strong arm to protect your mother while I’m gone.” My father smiled warmly and gently clenched my shoulder. The vision in my mind then stood and walked to where my mother waited with a tear-filled face. My father embraced her in his loving arms and said words to her I could not hear. I still remember the way the morning sunlight reflected off his armour. It made him resemble some spectral apparition in the light of day. If only I knew then what that omen would bring. One month later, three soldiers brought news of his death upon the Nazoran battle plains. Four months after my mother followed from a strange sickness that had taken her suddenly, and I was left alone.
Rising to my feet, I threw the soil to the breeze. At that precise moment, a whirlwind of air whipped all about me. I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the dust but the wind subsided as quickly as it came and all became still… a breeze, nothing more.
I looked around feeling the need for something to say. Words left unspoken? I searched for them, but they did not come. Turning back to the fort I saw the illuminating glow of many torches. Soon they will be closing the gates ready for the night. My words will just have to wait.
By the time I had returned to the guest quarters, it was dark. Baram and Jaramel were both in conversation as I opened the door.
“Ah, there you are Taragon,” beamed Baram. His face changed from that of a smile into a look of concern. “Is everything well?”
I reassured him with a smile of my own.
“Everything is fine my friend.”
“Come now,” I continued whilst turning my back to them, “we have a meeting to attend.”
Governor Talak’s large frame stood hunched over a table as we entered his quarters. It was the same table we had dined upon earlier but now remained free from the plates and trays. The only objects upon it now was a lighted candle and a map. It was to this last item that the Governor was giving his attention.
Next to the Governor stood another man. Small in comparison and slender of build, he wore leggings and boots of dark brown and a cloak of matching colour. He was also stooped over the table and was currently pointing out an area of interest on the map for the Governor’s attention. Long scraggly hair covered any facial features that may have otherwise been seen.
“Ah, there you are!,” Talak raised his gaze from the table.
Now standing upright he looked across to the man on his right.
“This is Jantar,” he indicated with a nod.
“Jantar,” he continued, “these are the fools I was telling you about,” the Governor waved his hand vaguely in our direction.
Jantar quickly threw his head back freeing his hair from his face in one swift motion. Underneath lay a face full of cunning. Sharp eyes, narrow and cat-like sat either side of a small pointy nose, cast their gaze intently over our party as a wry smile formed on a set of close lips.
He made a move around the table. As he did, I took note of the limp to his right leg as he came to stand before me.
“Jantar Pallinslade at your service.” Jantar extended a leather-gloved hand in friendship.
I took the hand in mine and shook it firmly.
“Taragon Stein at yours,” I returned in greeting.
“The man who found Shilindria’s mirror?” asked Jantar in disbelief.
“The very same,” interrupted Baram to my annoyance. It was bad enough living up to his reputation of me in Ranak-Lore, let alone have him starting again within the northern territories.
“Then I’m doubly honoured,” said Jantar with a bow. “I had thought about trying to find that particular artefact myself at an earlier time. You must tell me how you came to acquire it when the time permits.” I scrutinised Jantar for any signs of mockery, but there was none to be seen. I think he was generally impressed by me, or at least by my mostly undeserved reputation. I was beginning to feel slightly uneasy by this conversation, so I decided to change it.
“May I also introduce the finest weaponsmith in all of Ranak-Lore, Baram Oakengood.” I thought I’d play Baram at his own game but then realised that he probably was the best weapon maker that Ranak-Lore had to offer anyway.
“Taragon…,” said Baram bashfully. I turned to see the big man’s cheeks actually turning red.
“Master Weaponsmith,” greeted Jantar with a bow. Baram just continued grinning stupidly.
“And this is….”
“Master Ovin,” finished Jantar with a bow “I have seen you on several occasions but have never had the pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” returned Jaramel as he greeted Jantar in his usual way.
“Jantar is my best scout,” stated Talak proudly from his place by the table.
“He’ll be going with you partway, so I don’t want him returned with any northern axes buried in his back!”
“Hopefully Governor, we will ALL be able to return without any northern axes in our backs,” I smiled.
Governor Talak stared at me with raised eyebrows. “I doubt that will happen,” he replied coldly.
“Anyway, come over here and look at this. Jantar may just have found a secret way for you to enter the north.” The Governor beckoned us over to the table, and we obliged. Once assembled he spoke again.
“As you can see from your map, Jantar has updated it as best as he is able.”
I examined our restructured map as it lay on the table with interest. The map now showed the northern territories to be mainly divided into three broad sectors. The dividing factor of these areas originated from a river that had been drawn on the topmost central part of the map. It then continued down the page in an irregular line before branching out to journey on to two other routes; these headed off to the south-east and south-west respectively. Forests and mountainous areas appeared abundant and were separated by vast expanses of open land. The largest of which was the heart of the map and close to where the three branches of the river joined. Dots encased in circles had also been added to signify the towns that Jantar had identified to those that were already marked, many of which were again centrally located.
The map now had real value and had been expertly filled out with as much information and care as possible… except for two extensive areas at the upper end of the map.
The first of these was a large blackened area in the top northwestern region. This we already knew was the area known as
The DeadLands and our ultimate goal.
The second area corresponded to the northeastern corner of the map and remained largely unfilled and unchanged as when we had first given our map to the Governor. Obviously, Jantar had little knowledge of this region.
“Amazing!” I said aloud.
I looked to Jantar. “This will aid us greatly,” I said in genuine admiration.
Jantar smiled in appreciation.
Baram leant over the table a little further with a puzzled expression etched upon his face. He then pointed a leather gauntleted finger at the bare northeastern region of the map.
“Why is this area empty?” enquired Baram, his head moved a little nearer to better his view. “Is nothing to be found there?”
Jantar sighed.
“It has taken me seven months, under many different guises within the northern territories to gather the information you see before you now. Initially, my mission required me to spend a year in the north to gather all the facts that I could.”
“A Year!” interrupted Baram with surprise. Jantar nodded.
“What sort of information?” I added.
Jantar’s intelligent eyes looked at mine.
“Such things as the lay of the land. The people that inhabited it, anything and everything that could be of use to the south.”
“You’re a spy!” said Baram accusingly.
Jantar smiled upon hearing this last remark. “I prefer the terminology, gatherer of knowledge. But yes, you are right master Baram, a spy I am.”
Jantar shifted his weight to accommodate his bad leg, which he stretched before him. He then began pointing to the region on the map that Baram had indicated.
“I was near to this region when things in the north started to become a lot more interesting. Tribes were on the move; a truce had been called between the leaders to stop their infighting, and even the Malikan war bands from their isle off the coast were spotted on these shores. Something significant was happening, and on the lips of all was a name.”
Jaramel hung his head in shame. “Vorgannon,” he said solemnly. Jantar nodded his agreement.
“Indeed. It was to this name that the tribes rallied. Great wealth and all the riches of the south were being promised to those who would unite under his banner.”
“What of the ones who refused?” I challenged, “Surely not all would have joined to his will.”
“There were those who resisted and questioned his motives, a few of the small tribes I think.”
“What happened to them?” asked Baram.
Jantar shrugged. “They were not heard from again.”
“So you decided to return and report what you had seen?” I asked.
Jantar nodded again.
“Quite so. I broke my cover in a small town near to this region and stole a horse to better my escape to the south.” Jantar stopped his tale to rub at his leg nonchalantly.
“Unfortunately I was caught stealing the animal and beaten by a foul beast of man who wore an iron gauntlet upon one fist.”
Jantar’s words hit me like a war hammer. Surely it couldn’t be!!!
“Tell me! Was this man a huge fat oaf with breath like a scandonian skunk!” I demanded.
Jantar wore a puzzled expression but nodded his agreement.
“You know of this man?” he questioned in bewilderment.
I nodded as I recalled the name with venom. “He is known as Olaf Ironfist, a bloody thug of a man who kills for pleasure as well as personal gain.”
Jantar tapped lightly upon his crippled limb. “After I managed to escape his imprisonment, it was one of his men who gave me this leg with a parting gift of an arrow.”
It was now the Governor’s turn to look bewildered.
“Olaf…” he said in thought whilst stroking the hair on his chin. “Olaf Ironfist…I recall hearing that name before from a dispatch I received from the south some time ago.”
“Is he not a wanted man?” the Governor questioned.
“Several times over,” I agreed.
“It surprises me not,” said Jantar. “Vorgannon is welcoming all who will fight for him. Mercenaries and thugs are many within his ranks, and now it would seem he is welcoming criminals from the south as well.”
So Olaf was in the north. No wonder the south had seemed a quieter place of late.
“But how did he get past the Divide?” protested Baram. “I mean, it is patrolled isn’t it?” Baram looked to the Governor for some confirmation of this. The Governor responded irritability.
“Damn it man. It’s patrolled of course it is. But we can’t keep an eye on every inch of it all of the time! It’s damn near fourteen miles long!”
Talak leant his weight upon the table, bringing both of his fists down upon it with a thud.
“I told the King we would need a wall as well,” he hollered. “I warned him this sort of thing would happen…” Governor Talak’s volume increased as he continued with his rage.
“But would he listen? Oh no! He’d rather go and spend all the time building that!…that!” Talak stretched out a hand blindly in front of him as he searched for the words, “That blasted Galvian construction around his city!” he finished. “Rather than spend it here where it’s needed.” The Governor shook his head in disbelief as an uneasy quiet descended around us.
I looked to Jantar, who chose his next words with care.
“I’m sure Master Baram meant no ill meaning my Lord.” Baram nodded his head vigorously to Jantar’s words. “None,” responded Baram.
Governor Talak shook his head.
“Forgive me,” he said apologetically, “I forget myself.”
“The burdens of a leader of men are great and many, your apologies are not needed,” responded Jaramel sympathetically.
Talak looked Jaramel squarely in the eye before slowly nodding his head. His attention then once again returned to the map.
“As I was saying, this is where we are now,” Talak pointed to an area at the bottom central end of the map.
“This region above it relates to the Nazoran Battle Plains. The Plains continue for half a day’s ride northwards until they reach this mountain range here.” Talak indicated to a point just above the Plains. “The mountain range runs from east to west to form an impassable barrier into the north proper. The only way past these mountains lies here at Hillstone Pass, which is situated at the far eastern end of the mountain range... Or so we thought.” The Governor moved to one side and looked to Jantar.
“Jantar?” he requested.
“My Lord,” replied Jantar as he took the Governor’s position.
“I believe that Vorgannon is amassing his army here, on this large plain centrally located close to where the three branches of this river join, and it is to Hillstone Pass where he will eventually lead his armies of the north against us. Hence it is heavily guarded. A fact that I found out whilst trying to flee to the south.”
Jantar looked to see if he still held his captive audience before continuing.
“I was forced to journey along this mountain range westwards, hoping to find a place where I could cross over it. But in my condition then with my leg, I didn’t hold up much hope of succeeding. But as luck would have it, I came across a cleft in the cliff face at this point here,” Jantar placed a finger over the indicated position before continuing.
“I found a cave cunningly hidden by that cliff face.”
“A cave?” I said intrigued.
Jantar nodded. “Big enough for a man to lead a horse through.”
I smiled upon hearing this. Some good news, at last, I thought.
“I journeyed through the cave which continued right under the mountains to exit at this point here. The exit was just as well concealed as the entrance,” he added.
Talak snorted. “That’s why its discovery has remained hidden until now. We are pretty sure the north doesn’t know of its existence.”
I looked to Jantar and pointed to the southern entrance of the cave that he ha
d indicated. “Then this is our route.”
Jantar agreed with a nod.
“A word of warning, though,” advised Jantar. My heart sank a notch.
“Even though the North may not know of its existence, something does.”
“Something?” enquired Jaramel.
“There were many bones of large beasts scattered near to the central area of the cave. It was all that I do could just to keep my horse from bolting.”
“A beast’s lair?” interrupted Baram. Jantar nodded.
“The luck of Kanthar must have been with me that day as I passed through. No sign of this beast was seen except for the rotting carcases of its meals that littered the floor.”
“Even so,” I said, “I’d rather take my chances with the beast of this cave, than the armies of the north.”
“Well said!” approved Talak.
“Then it is agreed?” enquired Jantar.
I turned to both Jaramel and Baram for their approval before replying.
“It is,” I confirmed.
“Good,” roared the Governor, “then if your minds are set,” the Governor’s gaze was intently upon Jaramel as he spoke, “and if you’re still going to go through with this foolish venture, you'll leave in several hours when it's good and dark!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Jaramel’s reply in the form of an assertive nod.
The Governor sighed as he tightened his cloak about his shoulders.
“I’ve had your food stores replenished, and you will find your horses refreshed, saddled, and ready to leave.”
“Your aid in this matter has been greatly appreciated,” said Jaramel, and added a bow to this effect.
Talak nodded.
“Jantar here will take you as far as the cave’s entrance. After that, he is required to return.”
Jantar smiled. “My duties would have me watching those who are watching us.”
“We understand,” I replied, “Your help has already been greatly received in the form of this map.”
“Well then,” said the Governor in his usual loud tones, “if there’s nothing more to be said, then you should be on your way.”
Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal Page 21