The golden warrior did not back up. “I dislike being fenced in, my good man. What will happen if I take another step?”
You will die, thought Garkim irritably. “You will trigger a trap, and you will have little time in which to regret it,” he said loudly. “You are safe there, where you are. Please lower your weapons and pay attention to my instructions.”
“Identify yourself more fully to us first,” said the silver warrior grimly He stepped forward, his right armored foot coming to rest a fraction of an inch from the circle of inlaid flowers. “You seem to have been expec—”
“Hey! Is this the Utter East?”
Startled, everyone looked back at the gate. A clean-shaven youth with short, sandy hair and well-tailored clothing had come through. He held a large fighting knife out as he turned around, staring at the chamber with huge eyes. He carried a large backpack with a bedroll on top, and a long coil of thin rope hung from his belt. “Wow!” he gasped. “What a place!”
The gold-armored warrior abruptly reached out with his hammer and struck a light, glancing blow against the white tile floor outside the circle of inlaid flowers. It happened too fast for Lord Garkim to catch the thought and shout a warning. He was in the act of flinging up his arms to shield his face when the trap went off.
A block of black stone fell out of nowhere from above and struck the ground directly in front of the gold-armored warrior with a bone-jarring crash. Shattered floor tiles flew across the room, hammering armor and battering exposed skin. The gold warrior fell backward, his hammer clattering to the ground beside him. The black pillar, as wide across as a man’s outstretched arms and half again the height of a tall man, settled upright into the smashed tile floor with a groan, then was silent.
“Stay where you are!” roared Garkim, enraged and unnerved. “Stay there or you will be killed!”
Several of the visitors moved anyway, grabbing the golden warrior and hauling him and his weapon away from the stone, closer to the black gate. The warrior with the staff helped the armored man to his feet.
Anger burned in Garkim’s face. “The gods curse your stupidity!” he shouted in fury at the group, now bunched defensively around the arch. “This room is protected against all invaders using the gate! You are idiots and fools to doubt me!”
The visitors said nothing, their weapons ready. After a pause, however, the silver-clad warrior—their leader—lowered his shield and hammer. He exhaled and nodded his head, muttering instructions to his comrades. The men moved away from the black gate, eyeing it and Lord Garkim with grave suspicion.
“We will follow your directions, then,” said the leader to Garkim. “My name is Miltiades, of Phlan. You obviously anticipated our arrival.”
“Not I,” said Garkim, forcing himself to be civil with an effort. “Your arrival was foreseen by my liege, our emperor, the Mage-King Aetheric III of the Imperial Reaches of Doegan, who bids you welcome. I am instructed to see you safely out of this building and guide you to quarters prepared for you in the mage-king’s palace.”
“I thought this was the Utter East, not some empire,” mumbled the youngest man.
“Noph,” warned the silver warrior.
“This is indeed the Utter East, or at least a part of it,” said Lord Garkim. “It is well that you came here and not to one of our neighboring kingdoms, but we can discuss that later. For now, be assured that you are in good hands.”
The third man through the gate, the one with curly blond hair and a two-handed sword, grinned as the tip of his weapon touched the floor. “You don’t seem fond of people just coming and going through the gate,” he responded. He tilted his head briefly toward the huge block of stone to the side, then glanced back at the gate. “Speaking of which, what’s keeping Aleena?”
“Experience with gates breeds great caution,” said Garkim. “Only a poor man or a fool fails to bar his door. Now, if you at last wish to escape this chamber, you must first look—”
He broke off and craned his neck, his gaze going past the newcomers. Something behind the visitors had changed. He hadn’t yet caught what it was—he hadn’t been paying attention. The newcomers, following his gaze, turned to look at the gate.
“Tyr’s Word,” someone whispered in shock.
Lord Garkim stared in astonishment, his instructions forgotten. The blackness inside the stone arch had vanished. No colors replaced it. He could look under the arch and see the other side of the rotunda clearly.
“The gate!” shouted the golden-armored warrior. He turned to the silver warrior in amazement. “What happened to the gate?”
The silver warrior shook his head, staring at the space under the stone arch. “That should not have happened,” he muttered, glancing uneasily at Lord Garkim. “The gate should still be working, unless—”
“Unless something happened at the other end,” said Kern suddenly. He stepped forward, tested the space under the stone arch with his hammer, then slapped a hand against the stone arch. The runes that covered it were dark and lifeless. “Where is Aleena? Did some fiend attack her?”
Noph cleared his throat.
“Uh, guys, it’s okay,” he said. Everyone turned to stare at him. The youth had already put away his knife. “Uh, Aleena, um, she stayed back. Maybe she…”
“She what?” shouted several of the men at once.
Lord Garkim closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.
It was going to be a day he would not soon forget.
Chapter 3
Of Elephants and Bloodforge Wars
Lord Garkim could read minds, but having five strong-willed subjects made the process difficult. It proved to be easier to keep all conversations with them direct and to the point. It never hurt to first play the good host, of course, as it led to a lowering of mental barriers and swift answers later.
As Garkim and the five visitors left the vault, they pushed through a growing crowd at the top the steps by the main door, where confused guards and two city councilors talked rapidly with several of Doegan’s best wizards. Garkim had nothing left to tell them, his verbal reports already made. His mission to bring the visitors back to the palace took priority even over the gate’s failure.
The visitors from Undermountain remained silent in the confusion, following Garkim’s lead. They had already tied down, sheathed, or peace-bonded their weapons for the trip to the palace. A royal passenger wagon harnessed to a small, short-eared elephant awaited them on the street, with a brown-skinned Mar driver brought from the royal stables. The five visitors gave the elephant long, wide-eyed looks. Several of the men rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
“Where are your horses?” Noph asked, tearing his gaze away to look up and down the crowded street. “Or do you only have monsters to pull your wagons?”
“Horses!” Lord Garkim laughed, leading the group down the steps from the vault’s doors. “Alas, horses do not fare well here. A few came when this land was settled, but most died from disease. What few we have left are for important business only, not for easy rides across town. The red oxen and our eternal friends, the elephants, are far more durable. You are in no danger from this beast. It is quite intelligent and friendly.”
When they reached the wagon, the newcomers crowded close to the elephant and dared to touch it. Even Miltiades was impressed. “As you might be with us for a while,” said Garkim in a friendly tone, behind the group, “I will tell you more about our fair realm.” He signaled, and the drover pulled down the wooden step-ladder on the wagon’s side. Garkim swiftly climbed aboard, seating himself on a silk-padded sideboard. “Later, I should like to discuss your own business here, of course.”
Garkim already knew why the five were here, but it was always useful to know how far they would go to cover up the truth. Garkim had no illusions about lying. Everyone, even children, lied or shaded the truth. They did it almost every hour.
“We would like to hear about your kingdom first,” said Miltiades. He spoke politely but made the request sound lik
e an order. “We had an arduous journey getting to our end of the gate, and we would like to collect our thoughts while we ride.” He hesitated before boarding the wagon, giving the elephant a last long look, then climbed the steps and took his seat across from Garkim.
Garkim grimaced, thinking of the damage that metallic armor would do to the wagon’s silk cushions. It could not be helped, but the visitors would be happy to dump their armor by nightfall once they’d experienced a bit more of Doegan’s late-summer heat and humidity.
The seat cushions were a niggling matter, though. The visitors were without a doubt quite dangerous, and Garkim had already marked Miltiades for special attention. The holy warrior’s thoughts revealed he was by far the most experienced of the group, constantly sifting through hundreds of possible actions and reactions, ever alert for betrayal or attack. He was no genius, but he was far less a fool than any of his comrades, Garkim thought.
The councilor waited until the rest of the group was aboard before ordering the elephant’s driver to set off. The robed driver called out a command in Maran, prodding the beast with a hooked implement. The wagon lurched forward as the elephant took up a slow, steady pace through the street past waving vendors, yoked oxen hauling carts, and endless numbers of dusty, robed citizens. The sky was clear, and the noon sun was hot.
“To begin with,” Garkim said pleasantly, “we properly refer to our realm as an empire, not a kingdom.” He glanced at Noph. “As things stand now, however, all of our provinces are in rebellion and have declared themselves independent, so we are technically less an empire than a kingdom. For now, at any rate. You are the guests of the Mage-King Aetheric III, Emperor of the Imperial Reaches of Doegan. This fine city is our capital, Eldrinpar. The Doegan Empire is the most powerful of all realms here, and our navy is supreme throughout the seas of what you call the Utter East. I should say that the term, ‘the Utter East,’ is not used much these days except perhaps by poets. We refer to our lands as the Five Kingdoms.
“Doegan and the other realms were colonized just over two hundred years ago by a fleet of Ffolk from the Moonshae Islands. You have heard of these islands, yes?” Garkim saw the five men nod and nodded himself in satisfaction, looking away again at the street scene as they rode. “This region was already long inhabited by my own people, the Mar. We are smaller and darker than the Ffolk, as you see, and my ancestors’ ways were less civilized than those of the divinely blessed newcomers. The Mar did not fare well against the conquering Ffolk in their various wars and rebellions, but eventually the two groups made peace and settled into their present civilization, which has benefited everyone.”
Garkim paused. He could tell from the group’s thoughts that they had already noticed that the short, brown Mar in the street around them were poverty-stricken, while the few people who had visibly pale skin were well-dressed and well-fed. He shrugged. He was so used to this that it made no impression on him. The newcomers could think what they wished.
“The original fleet from the Moonshaes was commanded by Duke Aetheric, an ancestor of our emperor, who is said to have left the Moonshaes to destroy pirates to the south. It is rumored that the duke hoped to gain enough treasure from raiding the pirates that he could pay off debts of his own, but who can say for sure? He had assembled ships from several sources in the Moonshaes—a Count Boarswic, a Lady Cambor, a Baron Parsane, some temples, and a group of Northmen in longboats. The fleet met no pirates but suffered dreadfully from the ravages of plague, which caused many ports to deny them entry, food, and treatment. The fleet was forced farther south by this and by great storms until it came to rest on the beaches of our fair land.”
“Which temples went with them?” said Kern, the red-haired holy warrior in the gold-scale armor.
“Hmm.” Garkim stared ahead at the high tower of the palace in the distance, weighing his reply. This could be a touchy spot. “I will consult the old writings for you concerning that point,” he said slowly. “The references are confused on this. Tempus and the Earthmother, certainly, were among them and are with us now.” He cleared his throat and resumed. “As I was saying, the ships dropped anchor here, and the various groups held council to decide what they should do. Conflict swiftly broke out between them, and each group finally elected to go its own way.
“They called this place the Utter East and formed five different kingdoms. Duke Aetheric became the king of Doegan, Lady Cambor queen of Edenvale, Count Boarswic king of the debased and degenerate realm of Konigheim, and the Northmen settled their own rough spot, which they called the Mead-Hall of Clan Chief Harvald. Baron Parsane and his ship were tragically lost on the voyage over, but the crews of his surviving ships established the Free Cities of Parsanic, which are as chaotic a group as you could hope to deal with. Best for you that the gate led you here. ’Tis a pity it… ceased to function.”
They are thinking of the wizard-woman they left at the other gate, back in Undermountain, Garkim thought. Aleena Paladinstar was her name. The boy has feelings for her. Garkim rolled his eyes.
“Aleena must have done it,” interjected Noph with a gloomy look. “She said she wasn’t coming. I’ll, uh, explain later.”
Miltiades stared at his young companion, then shrugged. “Very well. Lord Garkim, please continue with your story. What happened to the temples’ ships?”
“The temples’ ships… The representatives of the temples were denied a vote in the fleet’s last council. One high priest had been killed by a sea monster before landing, and many priests were dispirited and had lost their powers. They settled among the Ffolk in the various colonies. Many of these former priests gained power in an evil cult later, but that’s another story.”
Jacob, the warrior with the two-handed sword, cleared his throat. “Perhaps we might be of assistance in rooting out these wretches, if—”
“Let Lord Garkim continue,” interrupted Miltiades. “We have other business to which we must attend.”
There was an embarrassed silence. “Your pardon,” said Jacob, subdued.
“Your offer of assistance is appreciated,” said Garkim diplomatically. He paused, listening to the steady thump of the elephant’s feet and the creaking of the wagon’s wheels over the hard-packed earth of the street. The visitors were considering ways to find out where this kidnapped woman they sought was held, he knew. All in good time, all in good time. The mage-king obviously had something in mind for these gentlemen first.
“To continue,” Garkim went on, “the various colonies were settled, and the Mar, the inhabitants of this fertile land, came to an accommodation with the inv—with the Ffolk. The—”
“Were you going to say, ‘invaders’?” The voice was Noph’s, from where he perched at the rear of the jostling wagon, holding on to his seat with both hands.
Garkim burst out laughing. “In fact, I was, yes. There are many points of view on this, and sometimes it is best not to take sides too obviously. You understand. The past is the past.”
“It looks like the past is still with you,” responded Noph. He was looking behind the wagon at a cluster of beggars following them at a safe distance, hands outstretched beneath pleading faces.
Garkim’s smile faded as he read Noph’s thoughts. “Ah, yes. It is with us, you are right. It is everywhere, the past. But this is now, and we must deal with what is now. To understand the now, I will explain a bit more about the past and bring you to the present.
“The Founding Lords, the Ffolk who landed on these shores, explored this new realm. They investigated the old ruins that dot our land, meddled in sacred tribal lands, hunted for gold and whatever valuables they could pull from overgrown tombs. They were like puppies, digging for their treasures, but they were not wise—or so some of my people say. The Ffolk built their kingdoms, and this much was well and good, you see, but the digging into old ruins—this is dangerous even in your home lands, is it not?”
There was a general murmur of agreement at this from the others. Garkim nodded. They came here from U
ndermountain, after all. He mulled over what he would say next. He should tell them about the bloodforges, he knew. The mage-king had not forbidden it, and they would hear about bloodforges soon enough from any citizen of the kingdom. Still—the short version would do.
“A hundred years ago,” he went on, “an explorer from Edenvale looted an old temple and found a great glowing stone. It was so large that he had to bring it back in a wagon, but the queen made him rich and had her wizards and priests set to work probing its secrets. In time, they discovered some of its powers, and they named this stone the bloodforge.”
Several of the men gasped audibly. “The bloodforge!” he heard Noph whisper. “That’s what we came here to—”
“Shhh!” several men responded at once.
“You said the queen of Edenvale had her priests study this device, the bloodforge,” spoke Miltiades loudly, trying to drown out the whispering. “Were these the same evil priests you talked of earlier?”
“No, no, they were not. A large number of priests had come on the voyage, and most are still honored in our kingdom today, though most of my own people, the Mar, prefer the original gods who held sway here. You understand, of course.”
“Any worshipers of Righteous Tyr around?” asked Kern with considerable eagerness.
Garkim’s mouth twitched. Careful…. “No, I am afraid not,” he said at last. “The worship of many gods known to the Moonshaes was never brought over by the fleet at the start.”
Kern sighed heavily. “That is grave news,” he said, with honest regret.
Garkim decided not to comment further. “Be that as it may, I must explain the role of the bloodforges in subsequent events. The queen of Edenvale learned to use the powers of this device to conjure up magical beings, sufficient to create an army of unthinking and loyal troops. This was power unheard of, as you can imagine, and she put it to use at once against her rival, the king of Konigheim.”
Forgotten Realms - [Double Diamond Triangle Saga 04] - Errand of Mercy Page 3