Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal

by Jason L Crocker

  I looked to Baram and Jaramel who both gave the impression of being satisfied with the task at hand. With the meeting over, it was time to leave.

  A little later and we were collecting our rides from inside the stables to the melodious notes of the Governor’s dulcet voice, as he barked his orders at the night guard to go and make ready the southern gate.

  Jantar’s chosen horse was a sleek looking small brown mare. The mare’s coat was so rich that every time it moved it caught the lantern’s light and sent waves of shimmering reflection along its length. Jantar noticed my eyes upon him as he limped around his horse to mount it on its left side. Once positioned, he placed one foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up to swing his bad leg clean over the saddle without incident.

  “Don’t worry Mr Stein. My handicap only slows me on the ground. Whilst upon a horse, I’m as equal as any other.”

  “Forgive my eyes but I was only admiring your horse,” I replied with a half lie.

  “Jantar stroked the neck of the mare.

  “A beautiful beast isn’t she. I’m afraid I’ve grown rather attached to her since our escape together from the north.” “I call her Spirit, for she has plenty,” he added with a smile.

  “A noble name,” I smiled.

  Anvil and Udos left the stables with their individual riders, soon to be followed by Spirit and hers. I would follow as soon as the stable hands had finished attaching our laden packhorse by way of a rope to the rear of Storm’s saddle. With their task completed, I thanked them for all their attention before following my comrades out into the courtyard.

  “Tell me,” I heard Talak say to Jaramel as I neared, “is Luka still mad at me?”

  Jaramel slowly nodded. “He has not as yet forgotten the incident,” replied the mage.

  The Governor snorted.

  “Huh! Well, it his own damn stupid fault for leaving that blasted potion on the edge of the table in the first place.” The Governor looked to me as I joined the line of horses.

  “Well I’m not a one for long goodbyes,” stated the Governor in a firm tone. “So all I’ll say is good luck to you, and keep your heads down.” The Governor gave a firm nod in a gesture of farewell before turning his back to head off in the direction of the tower.

  “Governor Talak!” called Jaramel. The Governor turned at the summons.

  “May the Holy Paladin watch over you,” said Jaramel with all sincerity.

  The Governor stood defiantly in his stance as he mulled the words over.

  “Save your prayers master Jaramel. For it is you he is going to have to be spending all of his bloody time with!” The red-headed giant smirked to himself as he turned for the last time to continue his walk across the courtyard. I looked into the darkness beyond the southern gate as we moved to journey beyond it.

  Chapter Eight:

  Jantar’s plan was a simple one. He had explained that we would continue travelling along this eastern road until we reached a position just prior to the next fort. Word of our passing had already been sent ahead, just in case any of the soldiers guarding the fort would mistake us for intruders. Once we had reached our desired position, Jantar would then have us enter the Nazoran Battle Plains and head northeast. Then under cover of night, we would continue across the plains until we reached the protection of mountain range on the far side. This was estimated to be at some time just before dawn. Jantar had also warned that although many eyes kept watch on Hillstone Pass, a few could also be keeping watch over our chosen route. Probably in case anyone was foolhardy enough to try an attempt to go over the mountains instead of around them. Jantar had also stated that the success of our mission rested upon our ability in not being seen. “To be seen is death,” he had said.

  My mind raced as fast as Storm, as we rode at speed along the dirt road between the two forts. We had only journeyed about two miles when Jantar suddenly slowed and changed our path. The appointed time had come. Small glows ahead, the flickering of flames from the torchlights of the eastern fort moved like fireflies in the air. Jantar led us from the road and onto the hard earth of the Nazoran Battle Plains.

  My mind continued with its musings as we travelled. The plan was simple enough, and in my experience, the more straightforward a plan was, the better. I looked to the night sky as I recalled past events. Clouds in dark clusters sailed their way across the heavens obscuring the light of the moon with huge pools of shadows that mirrored their movements upon the land below. I looked ahead at the rest of our company riding before me. Baram, a large dark shadow of himself, rode encased in his cloak of black Razorbear fur, the only clue to his form being the sheathed long-staffed battleaxe he wore across his back. Jaramel rode alongside him upon Udos and looked to be himself almost a part of the night. I looked a little harder even though I rode just behind him. His magic was at play here I told myself. He had somehow managed to almost blend the blackness in around him wear it as if it were a cloak. A neat little trick of concealment I thought and remembered the many times on different occasions when I could have benefited from such magic. As for Jantar, I could not even see him! He rode just ahead of Baram and Jaramel, and the only clues to his existence were the occasional glimpse of what little light caught upon the glimmering flanks of Spirit.

  As for me? Well, I had always been adept at concealment when necessary, it was a requirement of my trade. This was the main reason for my black leather armour, and on top of this, I had been lucky enough to happen across my faithful horse Storm, who was himself as black as midnight. Concealment had always been my preferred option, and this was exactly how I was going to play this job. Sure, it may be bigger than anything I had undertaken before, but the principle was the same. I now had a guide who was leading us into an unseen secret route into the north. Once we were there, I would simply follow the map along its eastern edge avoiding the towns whilst staying close to the forests, that was until I reached these so-called Dead Lands. I could live off the land if needed, and I had Jaramel’s magic and Baram’s battleaxe in helping me obtaining this Soul Crystal. Once I had that in my possession, I would simply follow the same route back and pass it into the hands of the King myself, there ending my mission, and claiming my reward. I smiled happily as I tried to fool myself for just a little longer.

  After an hour of travelling in one direction, we then changed it for another. Our route now headed directly north. The landscape, what could be seen of it was featureless. The flat of the earth stretched off in every direction only to disappear into a curtain of night at the range of my sight. The only sounds to be heard from the blackness was the wind in my ears, and the hard canter of the horse’s hoofs every time they struck the earth, after another hour continuing our steady pace, it was then almost a welcome relief to hear Jaramel suddenly let out a cry to stop. Jantar emerged from out of the darkness ahead, as I drew level to Baram awaiting an explanation.

  “Riders on the plains,” said Jaramel, who indicated this by pointing in the relevant direction.

  I immediately turned my head but saw nothing but the black of night. I was about to question him further but then remembered Jaramel’s words. “Night becomes almost as day with these eyes.”

  Jantar turned to face the mage. “Are you sure? I see nothing,” he questioned.

  “Oh, I would take his word for it,” I replied.

  Jantar gave a nod.

  “How many?” he added.

  Jaramel peered into the darkness. “Six,” he reported, “but they are still some way off.”

  “Are they heading in this direction?” I questioned.

  Jaramel gazed again into the blackness and shielded his glowing eyes as if it were a bright summer’s day. He then shook his head.

  “No, I do not believe so, but it is hard to tell. I think they are heading south-west,” he added.

  “You are full of surprises master Jaramel,” said Jantar with a grin.

  Jaramel acknowledged the comment with a nod of his head.

  Our guide turned his head
in the direction Jaramel had indicated. “They must be on patrol,” he said.

  “Keep your eyes on them Jaramel,” I urged “and let us know if their direction changes.” The young apprentice agreed to my wishes with a nod.

  It was another hour of riding before Jantar once again changed our heading. My world started lightening around me as the approach of the new day’s sun made its presence felt. It was still dark, but it was now a gloomy dark, and out of the murkiness in front of me rose a gigantic shape, blacker than black, silhouetted against the greying skies, it towered high into the heavens above. We had crossed the Battle Plains and reached the mountains beyond. The lay of the land around us also changed. The featureless plains were now dotted with boulders and rocks, and even a few trees and shrubs grew close to the mountains edge. Jantar hugged close to the base of the impassable barrier, following the curvature of its shape, his head all the while darting from left to right and even upwards as if he was searching for some recognisable mark. The trees I noticed were becoming more abundant now, sheltered by the mountains and fed by the water that ran from them they grew freely. It was in front of a large group of these trees, set against the mountain’s base when Jantar suddenly stopped. Dismounting from his horse, he turned, smiled, and then announced that we had arrived. Looking around, I saw nothing except for the trees. They extended outwards for about twenty paces then continued along the base of the mountain for about another fifty. There was nothing unusual looking about them, and another large group could just about be seen off in the distance. However, the foliage concealed anything that may have lay beyond them. Dismounting, we once again followed Jantar, as he led us into the woodland. Even though we had remained in the mountain’s shadow, the appearance of the morning sun could not wait any longer, and the world around us brightened. The depth of the woodland had been quite deceiving, as we had to weave our way through many trees before emerging out into a small clearing upon the far side. I checked the trail behind me…nothing, not even the boulders or the Battle Plains themselves could be seen through the foliage. Green grass was to be found growing on this side, and a small pool of water was also to be found here, but apart from that, there was nothing but the cliff face itself.

  I looked to Baram who looked back to me with a shrug of his shoulders.

  Jantar, however, walked up to the cliff face, turned to his left and motioned with his hand.

  “Here is your entrance Mr Stein,” he declared.

  Moving nearer, I was amazed to see a large fissure which ran up the side of the mountain. It had been hidden from my previous position by a small outcrop of rock and was only visible to the eye if you were standing near to the cliff face. The fissure was about four feet wide by ten foot tall.

  “By the Gods! I wouldn’t have believed it!” I said aloud.

  Jantar smiled at my last remark.

  “It looks a bit tight,” stated Baram with concern.

  “I can assure you master weaponsmith, that it only remains that way for a small distance. It soon opens out.” Baram eyed the dark gap with suspicion, not entirely convinced of Jantar’s words.

  The clearing was a good place to rest. The camp was made, and Jantar joined us before his departure. Fresh grass refreshed the horses, as did the water. Once we had breakfasted and recovered our strength, it was time for Jantar to leave.

  “Follow the main route of the caverns, and you will not get lost. It should only take you about three hours to journey to the other side,” advised Jantar.

  “Unless the caverns inhabitants have other ideas,” I jested.

  “Yes, caution is advised.” Jantar looked down to the ground before looking up again. “I feel somehow that I should be going with you.” His voice was edged with genuine sorrow as he spoke. I smiled fondly at his gesture. There is nothing I would have liked better than to have this experienced man who knew the land ahead accompany us on this quest, but I also knew it would have been an impossible request.

  “Your skills are needed elsewhere in these dark times my friend, and besides you have already helped us more than was expected.” I extended my hand to Jantar in respect for all he had done. He took my gesture of friendship to hand and wished me well. I then turned to retrieve my Glowball staff, leaving Jaramel and Baram to say their farewells.

  With my Glowball staff in hand, I turned back to Jantar. “What will you do now?”

  “I will head further along the mountain’s base before breaking my cover to head south. I am sure to be spotted in the daylight, but with any luck, they will think I am just spying upon the pass. It may even draw some attention away from this area.”

  I nodded at his plan.

  “When we return, I shall have to tell you the story of Shilindria’s mirror,” I smiled with a sideways glance to Baram.

  “I shall look forward to the day,” returned Jantar.

  With one final acknowledgement to our guide, I turned to face the obscurity of the fissure. Holding my now illuminated Glowball staff aloft in one hand, I pulled upon the reins of Storm with my other and walked him into an uncertain future.

  The world beyond the entrance looked strange indeed, almost as if I had passed through one plain of existence only to swap it for another. The unnatural blue light that emitted from my Glowball pushed back the darkness to suddenly reveal a thousand glowing eyes staring back at me from the very walls of the tunnel itself! However, a more close-up examination of one of these eyes, revealed it to be no more than Aragonite, a type of crystalline mineral commonly found within subterranean structures. Knowing what they are did little to comfort me, as they still seemed to be following my every movement. Looking ahead, the tunnel continued to the edge of my light and was confining, to say the least. Barely a head taller than mine for space above, and only half an arm’s length in width on either side of the horses. I forcibly pulled on Storm’s reins once again as I guided my reluctant animal past sharp outcroppings of rock that were ready to ensnare the unwary. I was not sure if it was the closeness of the walls that he was objecting to, or whether he knew something that I did not.

  After twenty or so paces and some more coaxing on my behalf, I finally managed to convince Storm enough to lead the packhorse through the confines of the tunnel and out into a much more pleasing, spacious cavern. The foul curses that followed told me that Baram was having similar trouble in convincing Anvil that this was the correct path to take. Glancing behind, I saw the big man’s bulk slowly emerging from along the tunnel. But just when I thought he was free of its restraints, his foot accidentally caught on one of the many rocks that littered the ground. Stumbling backwards into the cavern he let out yet another curse, then regaining his balance he came to stand beside me.

  “If I’m going to have to go through there again!” he declared, with a face full of anger, “then this damned horse is going to be staying here!”

  I tried to conceal my amusement as I looked for the third of our trio.

  Fiery red haunting eyes approached. They came towards us floating in the murkiness accompanied by only a shadowy, silhouetted outline of form. What strange manifestation approached?

  Jaramel stepped into the Glowball’s light guiding a calm and compliant Udos behind him. Baram and I exchanged glances before turning our looks to the mage. If Luka did have words with Udos, then it must have been ones of serious obedience.

  The mage joined our group and stood with eyebrows raised in question.

  Shaking my head, I then raised the Glowball staff once again and continued deeper into the cavern.

  The path that we trod constantly twisted and turned throughout the mountain, with each new tunnel we entered leading into another cavern, and each cavern into yet another tortuous tunnel. Stalactites of varying sizes decorated the ceilings of these caverns, leaving the room on the ground for the stalagmites, and to small pools of water that collected between the rocks. As we walked small creatures that lived on the cavern’s floor would scurry for the darkness that was robbed from them by the approa
ch of my light, and with each new step, another set of eyes within the walls was there to keep with their constant vigil of glowing scrutiny.

  We had journeyed through the dank tunnels and spacious caverns on uneven ground for about two hours now when Storm suddenly decided he was not going any further. I pulled upon his reins a little harder. I had been disappointed with his stubborn antics at the entrance and had no time for them now. Yet again he refused my will and actually began walking backwards, taking the packhorse and me with him! Baram was having similar trouble with Anvil, and it was only Udos who remained calm.

  “What’s the matter with them?” complained Baram.

  I was about to reply with confusion when I suddenly remembered Jantar’s warning about the beast.

  I turned to stare along the tunnel ahead of us. The light of the Glowball illuminated just enough of the passageway to reveal a bend in the tunnel some twenty metres ahead. Whatever lay beyond that bend was enough to alarm the horses. A foreboding sense of dread coursed through my veins as the caverns once again took on the feeling of unfriendliness.

  Moving to Storm, I collected my shield from its place on the saddle and slid its comforting warmth high along my arm. Turning to Jaramel, I spoke in hushed tones.

  “Jaramel, take the horses back into that cavern we just passed and secure them. Udos’ calm nature may have some effect at quietening them.” Jaramel stared ahead along the passage for several moments before turning his gaze back to me.

  “Be careful Mr Stein,” he cautioned, “I have not been sure until now, but there is definitely magic at work within these caves.”

  That was all I needed! Thoughts of the magically created Fangore I had killed returned to haunt me, as I took heed to Jaramel’s words.

  Baram stood restlessly by my side.

  “Well my friend, what say you to unsheathing that battleaxe of yours?”

  Baram responded with a nod of grim resolve. Placing one hand to his side, he took hold of the weapon’s shaft, and then pulled with his other the releasing strap that held his battleaxe in place. The heavy bladed weapon immediately fell into his grasp. Just like the old days, I thought. I just hoped the soft comforts of Ranak-Lore had not dulled his fighting prowess.