Dark Sahale

by Sam Ferguson

  “So what was it?” Erik asked.

  Lubbok shrugged. “We never found out. The humans escaped our grasp and nothing came to chase them. After more than a month of waiting, we entered the forest, but found only savage elves. We have been at war with those foul creatures ever since, but I do not think they are responsible for driving out the humans. The humans of Galardene were worthy opponents, strong and large, like us. They were disciplined warriors and were an honorable people.”

  “How many humans escaped?” Erik asked.

  Lubbok shrugged. “Not many. I don’t know the exact count, but it was fewer than one hundred, that was why we assumed something great was pushing them out.”

  “And did your people ever cross the Dread Pines and come to these ruins?” Erik asked.

  “Twice, but both parties found nothing extraordinary. So we ended our search.”

  “Strange,” Erik said.

  “What’s he saying?” Rafe asked. “Does he know what happened here?”

  Erik shook his head. “He said it’s a mystery. They don’t know what made the northmen of Galardene flee.”

  “There is a distinct evil here,” Lady Arkyn said. “I can feel it.”

  As if on cue, several figures appeared on the rooftops around them. Some were armed with bows already drawn and trained on the party, others with swords or axes. Lubbok shouted orders to his warriors, but Erik told them to hold their fire. He knew these people.

  They were tall, with lean, muscular bodies. The men wore loin cloths and the women wore coverings both over their groin and their chests, but otherwise the people were naked, save for black, swirling tattoos that covered their bodies.

  “Blacktongues,” Erik said.

  “Impossible,” Lady Arkyn said. “They were wiped out in the war against Tu’luh.”

  “Hold your fire, if they had wanted to attack, they would have already done so,” Erik said. “I think they want to talk.”

  “Are you mad?” Lady Arkyn shouted. “They’re assassins.”

  “Brother,” Erik began, addressing Lubbok in orcish. “I will try to speak with them.”

  “Who are they?” Lubbok asked. “We have not seen their kind before.”

  “They are a race of assassins, a most wicked and vile people. I have fought many of them.”

  “Murderers who work with cowardly arts,” Lubbok said. The three orcs spat in disgust.

  “Are you flesh and blood?” one of the Blacktongue women asked. She walked toward the edge of the roof she stood upon and looked down at Erik. “I see that you are their leader, how is it a man walks alongside both elves and orcs?”

  “How is it that Blacktongues live here in Galardene?” Erik said.

  The woman tilted her head to the side and sneered. “You are alive then, and have your mind under your own control?”

  “Last time I checked,” Erik said. “Either come down and speak with me face to face, or I will come to you.”

  The woman dropped down from the roof as gracefully as a bird might land upon a branch. She stood and walked toward Erik, leaving her hatchets hanging from her belt as she came in close. Though her irises were a bright blue, the whites of her eyes had been tattooed black also, making for an intimidating visage. She showed no hint of fear, and as Erik scanned her with his power he found that she had not yet decided whether Erik and his party were a threat or not. Still, the idea of conversing with a Blacktongue was more temptation than he could resist. He had long ago set aside the hatred he had once felt for them, and was now discovering that he was almost happy to see that some of them had survived. While he did not mourn those he had fought against and killed, he found that as he focused on the idea of extending mercy to each of his foes in an attempt to keep the beast within himself caged, he did not much enjoy the thought of being a major contributor to the death of an entire race. The fact that he saw some here and now, and was about to talk with them, gave him a hope he had not experienced before.

  He slid off his horse, pushing Lady Arkyn’s hands back when she tried to hold him in place.

  “I am Erik Lokton, from the Middle Kingdom,” he said.

  The woman nodded. “I know your name well,” she said. “Among our people, you are called the scourge.”

  Erik smiled. “It has a nice ring to it,” he said. “But, I must tell you, I am not here to bother your people. I am on an important mission.”

  “You are not the first person to come through here,” the woman said. “Do you serve the first?”

  Erik drew his brow into a knot above his eyes and folded his arms. “Who else came through here?” he asked.

  “He was in the form of a man, but when he found us, he took the form of a demon. He slaughtered many of my people. He burned many of our homes.”

  “A shadowfiend,” Erik stated. “No, I do not serve him. I believe he is responsible for the murders of many people back in my homeland, and I am following him.”

  “You are going to fight him?” the woman asked.

  Erik nodded. “I am going to stop him.”

  The woman shook her head. “Then you will die, Erik Lokton of the Middle Kingdom, and all of your friends along with you.”

  “What is the ugly woman saying?” Lubbok shouted in orcish.

  Erik held up a hand to silence him. It was a good thing that other humans did not take the time to learn orcish. If she had heard the insult, the conversation would have shifted to fighting in a heartbeat. “How long ago was he here?” Erik asked.

  The woman was silent for a moment, and then she answered. “Two days ago. He came with a woman. She had dark hair, and fair skin. They appear to be working together. She had magic, and he fought with the soul of a demon.” The woman gestured to the others on the rooftops. “We few are all that remain. Before the… shadowfiend came to us, we numbered four hundred strong. You cannot beat him. It is best to bury your dead and leave him be.”

  “I have to ask you something,” Erik said. “When he fought with the power of a demon, how many shapes did he take?”

  The woman narrowed her eyes and emitted a low grunt. “Two,” she said after a few moments. “At first, he was like a monster, but then when more of us came out against him, he changed into a dragon.”

  “A dragon?” Rafe asked. “Just what in Icadion’s name are we hunting?”

  Erik nodded. “Then he is the one we are after,” he said. Erik turned around to face Lady Arkyn. “This is the one who killed and absorbed the powers of the other sahale in Winter’s Beak. He has to be the Dark Sahale."

  “We will let you pass, but you cannot stay here,” the woman said. “You are dead, all of you, unless you turn back now.”

  Erik smiled at her and shook his head. “If you know who I am, then you know that I am the only one who can stop the monster. Which way did he go?”

  The woman pointed northward. “They went that way, toward the mountains.”

  “Erik,” Lady Arkyn said. “He is going after the sahale we are trying to find.”

  Erik nodded. “Then we have no time to lose. We must track him down.”

  The woman gestured toward his horse. “If you survive, then you may pass through this way once more, but I do not expect to see you again. This is the end of the scourge.”

  “Tell me, how did you come here in such numbers?”

  “We are of a different clan,” the woman said. “We have lived here since the humans left this city. Before that, we lived in caves to the east.”

  “What drove the humans from this place?” Erik pressed.

  “If you go northward, you will discover that as well,” the woman replied. “If I were you, I would seek shelter before the sun goes down, otherwise, you may not live long enough to find your shadowfiend.” With that, the woman snapped her fingers and the other Blacktongues on the rooftops disappeared as if made of vapor. The woman walked to an open door and vanished into the darkness of a vacant shop, leaving the six in the street by themselves.

  Erik scanned the ro
oftops once more. He would be surprised if the Blacktongues actually let them pass through without a fight. If what the woman had said was true, then perhaps they might allow it in order to let Erik fight their mutual enemy, for no matter the outcome of such a fight, it would mean one less enemy for the Blacktongues. As his eyes searched the roofs, he saw another woman. This one was not like the Blacktongues. She wore a dark blue dress, and had long black hair that flowed out to the side with the wind. She looked at Erik and tilted her head to the side, staring at him. Erik reached out with his power and felt a strange mix of emotions coming from the woman. At once he felt contempt, curiosity, and respect emanating from her. The young warrior turned to alert Lady Arkyn to the woman’s presence.

  “Up on the roof to the south east, a woman, do you see her?” Erik whispered.

  “There is no one there,” Lady Arkyn said.

  Erik turned back around and saw that the woman had vanished. “We need to hurry,” Erik told Lubbok in orcish. “The murderer was here, and he killed many of their people.”

  “How many?” Lubbok asked. “They look like capable fighters.”

  Erik nodded. “She said they are all that remain of four hundred.”

  Lubbok’s eyes shot wide, and then a great grin stretched the lips behind his lower tusks. “Then it shall be another good fight, brother, and we shall prove our valor.”

  They left Galardene as quickly as possible, riding northward alongside the Black River as Zefra had suggested. Despite the Blacktongue’s warning, they were not able to find adequate shelter before nightfall. There was nothing with which to build a lean-to, so Lubbok and the other orc warriors pitched single man tents that they had with them. However, instead of sleeping in the tents, the group built a large campfire in the middle of the tents and then slept some fifty yards away. It was a simple ploy, but one that proved effective, for during the second watch, visitors came to call upon them.

  Lady Arkyn woke the group quietly and they readied their weapons as a group of ten men snuck up on the camp from the north. They were crouched low, nearly crawling as they moved in close. They came within ten yards of the tents and then sprang up silently and began charging the tents with swords and spears. They ripped through the light canvas material and let out war cries as they stabbed down where they thought their victims would be.

  With the aid of the camp fire’s light, even Chabba and Chongor could effectively aim their bows on the assailants. Upon Lady Arkyn’s signal, the three of them unleashed their arrows in a furious volley one after another until all of the attackers were slain but one. The last one they struck in the legs. He stumbled and fell into the camp fire, screaming and shouting in agony as he scrambled to roll out of the flames. Before his clothes had stopped smoking, Erik was on him with his sword. The young warrior pressed the tip of the blade into the warrior’s throat.

  “Who sent you?”

  The man looked up with savage, red eyes and lashed out with a free hand. Erik’s sword pushed in, and the warrior fell to the ground. He turned and was about to speak to Lady Arkyn, but then an eerie green light rose from the Black River. It hovered just a few inches above the ground and started fanning out as it neared the camp.

  “What evil is this?” Rafe asked.

  “It’s necromancy,” Lady Arkyn said. “I have seen it before, outside of Winter’s Beak.” Lady Arkyn peered into the darkness, and then finally pointed beyond the river. “There, there she is!”

  “Who?” Erik asked.

  Chabba didn’t need to understand Lady Arkyn’s words to know what to do. He and Chongor lit their arrows in the campfire and shot in the direction Lady Arkyn was pointing. The flames illuminated the immediate area around them as they flew. When they reached the opposite side of the river, the group saw another dozen warriors with swords and spears. They were standing behind a woman with dark hair.

  “That’s her,” Erik said. “That’s the woman I saw after the Blacktongues left.”

  “It is the same woman I saw outside of Winter’s Beak!” Lady Arkyn shouted as she fired her arrow at the woman. The arrow went wide and slammed into one of the nearby warriors. To their horror, the woman let out a blast of green light from her hand and the slain warrior rose back to his feet and pulled the arrow from his chest.

  “Witch,” Lubbok snarled. The three orcs spat. The green light stretching toward them began to fall upon the dead that had initially attacked the camp. The bodies started to stir. Lubbok reached down and removed a burning log from the fire and used it like a club on the first reanimated warrior. Embers and sparks exploded as the log connected with the warrior’s face. A sickening, wet crack rent the air and the warrior’s head spun around on a shattered neck. “Come back from that,” Lubbok growled. “Use fire!”

  Erik smiled. He had fire, and whether it would bother his new brothers or not, now was the time to use it. He let his power and rage flow through him and ignite the blade. Chabba and Chongor lit their arrows in the fire, as did Lady Arkyn. Lubbok muttered some sort of curse at Erik for using magic, but he paid it no mind. He went to work taking the heads of the newly reanimated corpses before they could fully regain their senses.

  The woman across the river screamed angrily as her spell failed to heal the burns on her warriors. There was little she could do, so she and the others across the river turned and fled after Erik and Lubbok finished off the rest of the original ten. Chabba and Chongor took down another two each as they fired arrows across the river. Lady Arkyn continued to fire at the woman, but none of her arrows hit their mark. Every time they came within a few feet, the missiles would unexpectedly turn and fly off to the side.

  Erik watched the woman flee, but as he reached out with his power once more, he was surprised to discover that she had no fear of him or the others. She was retreating, but not because she thought she would lose. He could sense that she was holding back. Perhaps this attack had been meant to capture them instead of kill them outright. He wasn’t sure, as the warriors had definitely fought hard, but he couldn’t shake the impression that the woman didn’t want to kill him. Perhaps they meant to kill the others, but not him.

  “Magic,” Lady Arkyn hissed as she finally gave up.

  “It’s all right, at least they’ve gone,” Erik said, still trying to process his impressions of the woman.

  Lubbok was not very pleased. After he was finished with the log, he tossed it aside and came at Erik, pointing an accusing finger. “You lied! You said you were not a wizard!”

  “I am not,” Erik said. “This sword is a special item, made from Telarian steel and endowed with a rare enchantment.”

  “A coward’s weapon!” Lubbok spat.

  If Lubbok didn’t like the sword, then he would hate to find out Erik was actually sahale. “Brother, it was the only way to stop the witch’s magic.”

  “I would rather die than use such a device!” Lubbok shouted.

  Erik extinguished the flames and sheathed the sword. “Don’t worry, Lubbok, you will never have to hold the sword. I, on the other hand, must use it as part of my station. It will aid us in the upcoming fight.”

  Lubbok stormed off, ranting about how he had half a mind to leave and return home and let Erik go on ahead without him. For a moment, it seemed as though he were going to do just that, for he walked far out into the darkness and disappeared. Even Chabba and Chongor stared off after him, though they did not look nearly as upset about the sword as Lubbok had been. Lubbok came back a minute later, having apparently calmed himself down a bit. He didn’t offer an apology, or admit that he had come to terms with Erik’s magic sword, but he did offer get the horses so they could continue onward.

  Erik figured that was as close to a reconciliation as he could hope for.

  They traveled through the night, keeping the river in sight, but not daring to get too close to it just in case the witch came back with her warriors. When they found a grouping of large boulders, they decided to camp for the remainder of the night.

 
The following day, they were up at first light. They continued along their way as quickly as their horses would allow, and maintained a grueling pace for two days, finally arriving at the ruins of Tarntin during the middle of the day.

  “Do we expect any surprises here?” Lady Arkyn asked.

  Erik shook his head. “If you mean more Blacktongues, they are all in Galardene. She did say that something in the north would show us why the other people left though.”

  “I bet she was talking about that witch and her crazy warriors,” Rafe put in. “If you had an army that could never die, I bet you could run a whole slew of men out of just about anywhere.” Rafe brought his horse up alongside Erik’s. “By the by, how exactly did you see that kind of magic before?” Rafe asked Lady Arkyn.

  “After I investigated the crime scene where the others were murdered, I was attacked during the night by a group of these same kind of warriors.”

  “Same as in similar, or same as in the exact same group?” Rafe pressed.

  Lady Arkyn shrugged. “I used a natural gas explosion to kill the ones after me. I don’t know if I killed them all, but I thought I had gotten the majority of them at least. I also thought I had killed the witch, because I didn’t see her or the magic after the explosion.”

  “I see,” Rafe said dryly. “You two sure do make your share of enemies, I’ll give you that. I think I might need to raise my fee a bit.”

  “If we live through this, I can reimburse you enough to replace your ship,” Erik said.

  “Well,” Rafe started as he tilted his head to the side and shined his nails on his shirt. “That will be a good start, but considering all the extra work that has gone into a voyage that was supposed to be a simple transport job…”