What a way to go. To be killed by magic of all things!
“Canaktation” Jaramel’s voice sounded close to me. A wave of warm air washed all over my face, it was the only effect that I suffered from an otherwise deadly fireball attack. Jaramel’s words had thankfully dissipated the flame.
“Ahh, so you know of the arts too do you? Well, try this!” The voice came again from the darkened corner, but this time it was full of menacing threat.
Jaramel spoke again as I instinctively started reaching for my crossbow straps.
“Please, Artemis we mean you no harm. We are in dire need of your skills.”
The loud crackling noise that had been building from the corner started to fade. I decided now was a good time to explain my sudden arrival.
“I have a friend outside who has been poisoned and is close to death. I beg of you Artemis, save his life if you can, and I assure you no price will be too high,” I meant my words, even if I did see the five hundred gold coins dwindling down to nothing before my eyes.
Silence followed as my proposition was considered…
“Bring him in,” the reply was unenthusiastic, but it sufficed.
Collecting the big man proved to be just as equally difficult as placing him upon his horse in the first instance. To begin with, I wanted to check again for his life beat but chose to ignore this impulse...just in case. I then somehow managed to rally enough of my strength to lift my friend free from his horse and position him over my shoulder, be it somewhat awkwardly. The short walk that followed to Artemis's home seemed to me to be the longest in my life. Nearly twice my legs buckled from under me by the weight of the weaponsmith, but somehow I held firm. I neared the doorway, and the thought of wandering into a darkened room with Baram’s great weight upon my shoulders did not bode well, but thankfully I did not have to, as it was now well lit by a multitude of candles.
“Place him on the bed.” The hunched man who had spoken was wearing a simple brown cloak, not too dissimilar from Jaramel’s and was pointing a skeletal finger in the direction of the bed.
Without a second glance to the healer, I struggled to the bed whilst carefully avoiding the various piles of books that lay scattered across the floor. Then kneeling down I carefully placed my burdened load upon it. I barely had time to stand again before a mass of wild grey hair pushed its way in front of me to kneel in front of Baram. Artemis began his work by carefully examining the weaponsmith’s body, mostly by using his long probing bony fingers, but he did pay particular interest to the area around the impaled arrow upon his leg, and I still had not managed to see his face yet.
“He was wounded with this.” From its the place in my bootstrap where I had managed to safely secure it, I produced one of the Ranger’s poisoned arrows in an attempt to aid the healer.
Artemis raised his head without turning and held out a hand. As soon as I placed the blackened arrow within his skeletal grasp, he moved it to his nose, sniffed deeply, then nodded his head. He then stood with his back to me and turned. If I had been in the Dead Lands now, I would have instantly killed the thing standing before me, for fear of it being a ghoul! Eyes clouded like a misty morning stared soullessly back into mine. Skin, thin and taut, was stretched to the limits across a bony face. The wild hair that I had seen on the old man from behind was if anything more uncontrollable looking from the front, and then the thing smiled with a toothless grin before speaking.
“Your friend is waiting outside death’s door. If it weren't for his great size, then he would have already passed through it by now.” My eyes went to Baram’s stricken form. He lay as helpless as a sleeping child. The once towering pillar of strength that I had come to rely on so many times in the past, now reduced to nothing more than the frail wretch lying before me.
My gaze returned to Artemis, “But can you heal him?” My pleading words came slow and full of hope. Artemis looked me up and down deep in thought whilst stroking his chin with a bony hand.
“Perhaps,” he nodded. Before I could intervene further on this strange old hunchback, he turned to Jaramel. “You!” he said sharply. The young apprentice had been in the process of looking at several objects with great interest that lay on the table.
“Me?” responded the mage.
“Yes you, you dullard!” I envisioned the frown under Jaramel’s hooded head.
“Do you known of the spell Envigoss?” questioned Artemis.
Jaramel nodded. “A minor spell of heating, of course.”
“Good,” responded the healer with a sideways glance.
The ghoul-like Artemis then turned his head in every direction before homing in on a large brown jar that lined one of the many shelves. Pulling the cobweb covered jar from its resting place, he then removed the cork lid and smelled the contents. “Good, still fresh,” he said happily to himself.
Moving to the bed, he then produced a small knife from some hidden pocket and made two small tears in Baram’s trousers about the wound. He then scooped a handful of the jar’s contents (which to me resembled mouldy cheese) and smeared it all over the affected area before turning to Jaramel once again.
“Stop eyeing up my reagents and come over here!” he snapped. Jaramel did so. “Cast Envigoss over the wound, but make sure your hand does not touch the balm I’ve placed there, and continue the spell until all of the balm has dissolved into the wound,” The bent frame of Artemis glared upwards at Jaramel as he leant closer towards him. “Have you got that?” Jaramel said nothing but nodded slowly to show that he understood the simple instructions.
“Good!” Once satisfied that his instructions were being carried out correctly, Artemis the ghoul returned his attention back to me.
“Make no mistake, all I have done so far is to stop your friend slipping from beyond my reach. The properties of the balm will also soften the flesh around the wound, this will make the removal of the arrow a much easier task.” His almost pupil-less eyes regarded me without so much as a hint of emotion. Blackened teeth were exposed into a grin. “What happens next Mr…?”
“Stein,” I answered back.
Artemis acknowledged my name with a small nod of the head.
“What happens next Mr Stein, is entirely up to you.”
“To me?” I asked, wondering what in the black pit he could mean by this. The old hunchback nodded again with another sickly smile, but this time without the teeth.
“Yes, you see my services will not be free.”
“I have gold,” I responded quickly, whilst mentally envisioning the amount of coin I had left. Artemis waved his hand dismissively in front of him and shook his head.
“I have no need for gold at present, but you will leave me five pieces for the inconvenience you have caused to my door.” I nodded grudgingly. I would gladly give all that I owned to have Baram back on his feet, but to lose five gold pieces over a door! Where was the sense in that?
“Then what is it you require?” Artemis smiled again, and I wished that he had not. Every time he did, he looked like the happy undead. It was starting to become a little unsettling.
“You look like a man who has lived by the sword, and I also see that you have a southerner mage of some reputation with you.” His eyes wandered to Jaramel, “some might even say a Royal reputation if I am not mistaken.” Damn, I had totally forgotten about Jaramel’s speech. Even so, I still did not understand how he could have managed to deduce that he was from the King’s court?
“And…?” I added dangerously, my words intending to dissuade him from this line of questioning.
“And Mr Stein, in return for your friend’s life here, I would like you to recover something for me that is rightfully mine.” So that was it! I had always known that there was plenty of work to be had in the north. It was just that with all the infighting that was going on and their hatred of the south, I had never been able to take advantage of the situation. But I never once would have guessed that I would be bartering with Baram’s life upon the work of my trade.
/> Artemis was trying to read my face, carefully scrutinising for any signs of my acceptance. What choice did I really have?
“What is it you seek?” I said resolvedly. The healer beamed me another blackened smile.
“It is a small item of no great importance to anybody but myself,” raising his hands he placed both his thumbs and forefingers together until they formed a rough shaped, small, bony circle. “It is an orb of pure white glass about so big. It was stolen from me in this very house, not two nights past.”
“Stolen! By whom?”
Artemis face darkened as if a sudden shadow past over it, his fore head became a wrinkled frown and his white milky eyes widened in anger.
“I have made many enquiries in the village, and I know who he is, and where the stinking pig is even now!” Artemis spat on his own floor as I waited for him to gather enough of his self-composure before continuing his tale. “He was seen leaving the village with his men after the theft. Apparently, he is one of Vorgannon’s highest mercenaries, or so he claims. A great hulk of a man who wears an iron fist, I believe he is called Tolaf Steelfist or some such nonsense…”
My heart sank a notch as I recalled the name of the one man who I did not want to run into in the north, or anywhere else for that matter! “Olaf,” I corrected, “his name is Olaf Ironfist.”
“You sound as if you know of him,” Artemis said in surprise.
“Our paths have crossed once or twice before,” I answered regretfully.
“Good, then you may have a small advantage,” said Artemis pleased.
“Advantage!” I thought. You normally do not get an advantage with Olaf Ironfist, you do however normally get dead!
Artemis continued his account. “Apparently this Olaf dog has been going from one town to the next collecting up all manner of magical objects in the name of Vorgannon. He spends but a week in each town before moving onto the next.” The grey haired zombie-looking healer smiled happily to himself, “I have now found out that he currently resides in the town of Vingard, just half a day’s ride to the east of this forest.”
Jaramel left his position by Baram’s side, the balm apparently dissolved.
“If Olaf is collecting magical objects for Vorgannon, then Vorgannon will intend to use them in the forthcoming battles.” I looked at Jaramel upon hearing his words. I did not really care what in Junderland’s beard he was doing, or whom he was doing them for. All I cared about was the paralysed figure lying on the bed at the back of the room. An image of Kendra running to greet our return, with Baram’s rider-less horse by my side, was instantly pushed from my mind.
“We’ll go now and leave the pack horse and Anvil here,” I said to Jaramel. “We shall move quicker without them.” The apprentice court wizard gave an agreeing nod before heading out through the broken doorway. With one last look towards my stricken friend, I turned to join him.
“One more thing Mr Stein.” Artemis’ crypt-like words froze me to the spot. I turned to listen. “The poison which runs through your friend’s veins is very potent indeed. It will take me all afternoon to prepare the necessary ingredients to aid his recovery, all of which must be administered correctly, and in the right quantities, or he will die. I will now slowly start to prepare the healing elements necessary for your friend’s revival.” The hunchback’s eyes went coldly to Baram before returning to hold my own with their callous stare, “but I will not administer the last of the ingredients until you have safely returned the orb back into my hands. Failure to do this will quite simply mean the death of your friend… I hope you will understand.” Understand I thought! Without me realising it, my hand went to rest upon the hilt of my sword. Before I knew what I was doing, Artemis spoke again. “Oh, and I have already seen my death Mr Stein, and I can assure you, it is not by your hand.”
I nodded at his words, before adding some of my own. “Then if we do not return with your orb, it is because WE are dead,” My eyes went sadly to Baram. “Heal him well until then.” Artemis gave a final nod before I regrettably left my friend’s life in the hands of this man.
Chapter Thirteen:
Trees rushed past in varying shades of green, the afternoon wind was strong in my face, and clouds of dust were left in our wake.
I did not know whether it was the fact of being free from the tethering chains of the packhorse that made Storm gallop so well, or whether it was just because he sensed the urgency in me that kept his pace so keen, but whatever it was, I was grateful. Even Jaramel galloping on Udos was having trouble keeping speed. But it mattered not because I was focused now and had been ever since leaving Artemis’s hut. Never before in my life was I set so intently on achieving a goal such as this one. I would take that orb, I had to.
What should have taken us half a day’s ride to reach had only taken us just three and a half daylight hours. Bringing Storm to an abrupt stop, I surveyed the village that lay below us. The village of Vingard was safely nestled at the base of a surrounding valley.
The heavy panting of our tired horses played upon my ears as I studied the hamlet from afar. It was not large, twenty buildings at most, this would make finding Olaf a much easier task. Not that he would have needed much finding, I would just have to follow the corpses! The village appeared to have two entrances, which looked approachable from the east and west. North of the village there was a grassy slope that descended to the dwellings at an almost impossible angle. But as luck would have it our gentle southern rise was tree covered. This would be the route we would take to reach the village unseen, but we would still have to wait until after dark and judging by the position of the sun that would be soon. Time enough to find a safe place to rest until then.
“We can’t do anything until it gets dark. Let’s rest the horses until then.” My first words spoken in over three hours to Jaramel were answered with a nod.
“He’s not what he seems you know.” I puzzled over Jaramel’s comment as I led my mount Storm in the direction of the sheltered lake we had recently passed.
“Who’s not?” I enquired.
“Artemis the healer,” replied Jaramel, as we continued at a walk back along the open road.
“Oh, and what makes you say that,” my interest snared.
Jaramel shrugged his brown-cloaked shoulders. “During my tuition into the arts. Master Luka would teach me the origins of work belonging to several powerful magic users. One of these was a man called Ackrulas.” The apprentice wizard turned to stare in my direction with the two fiery coals he used for eyes, “a hunchback by all accounts.” My attention increased as I listened carefully to the information that followed. “Apparently this Ackrulas was banished several years ago to the north for using his all-seeing orb to rob the living for his own personal gain.”
“All seeing orb?” I interrupted my interest now at its peak. Jaramel nodded.
“He used it to spy on the owners of wealthy homes and then go and rob them of their possessions whilst they were away… he also stole from the dead.”
“Why would a mage need to rob the living?”
Jaramel shrugged
“Some of the reagents in our potions and spells can be very expensive if you do not have the correct means of obtaining them.”
“And you believe this Artemis and Ackrulas is one of the same?” Jaramel nodded again.
“The magic that radiates off him is great indeed, but I won’t know for certain until after I have viewed this orb we seek.”
A cloud of confusion filled my mind as I aired my concerns. “But if this man is Ackrulas, how can this help us?”
Jaramel turned once more to me, and by doing so, the light of the waning sun illuminated just enough of his hooded face to reveal his smile.
“Ackrulas’s orb holds the power to disclose the exact location of any object he so desires to find.” This was good news, an object like that could save me weeks of my time searching for people’s lost belongings. It then dawned on me like a new day's sun, by the Gods! How could I be so stupid,
I looked at Jaramel half hopeful.
“The Soul Crystal?” I asked eagerly.
Jaramel nodded, and even though I did not see his smile this time, I am sure that it was there.
“It could save us many days of searching,” said Jaramel enthusiastically.
I agreed with a nod. If Jaramel was right about Artemis, and he really was Ackrulas, then once we returned him his orb, Baram would be healed, and maybe, just maybe, we could also discover the precise location of the Soul Crystal. I smiled inwardly to myself that was until I remembered where the orb was currently being held.
“Maybe the fates will be kind to us?” added Jaramel.
Perhaps I thought, but then obviously he had not met with Olaf Ironfist yet.
The little time we had by the lake was spent with rest and reflection on the night to come, I tried to push all other thoughts from my mind, leaving it free enough to concentrate on the task at hand. This, however, was proving to be a lot harder than it should have been, what with Baram, the Soul Crystal, Ackrulas’s orb, (if that was who he was) and Olaf Ironfist to contend with, my thoughts were in turmoil… If only there were a woman on hand to soothe my troubled mind. But there was not, there was only a darkened lake, under a cloudy sky, with an apprentice boy wizard from the King’s court for company. Oh well, at least our horses were recovering their strength.
“Do we have a plan?” Jaramel’s question was direct and to the point. The apprentice magic user had been sitting in one of his usual trance-like states for the past ten minutes, but now his eyes were open and staring at me in their usual unnatural way. I did have a plan of sorts, I was going to tell him a bit later so that it was still fresh in his mind, but looking at him now, he did not seem to me to be the type to easily forget something.
Taragon Stein: The Search For The Soul Crystal Page 30