“Before we begin,” Wyman said, “let us raise our cups to the Kinship and their most glorious victory! I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re happy to have you home.” Everyone at the table raised their cups with cheers and affirmations as Wyman continued. “I know that I don’t need to remind anyone here of the hardships we’ve endured at the hands of the thieves these many years. May their defeat mark the beginning of more promising times.” The men took long drinks from their cups in solemn agreement.
Wyman’s words brought a weariness to Glak’s expression that did not reflect Wyman’s hopeful sentiment. He shook his head as if in apology. “No doubt the miners’ fears have been greatly eased by this news. They, more than any, have borne the brunt of the thieves’ attacks. But while the tale of our success might make for a fine drinking song, I fear that the relief it brings about will be all too short-lived.”
“You believe that the thieves will not be deterred even by such a resounding defeat?” Wyman asked.
Glak waved his hand dismissively as he leaned back in his seat. “I expect that those few who survived will recruit others and eventually retaliate to gain back their fortune. With the proper defenses in place, they can be staved off for a while. It will be quite some time before they build enough strength to become a true threat again. But I did not call all of you here to boast of our achievement. In all honesty, it seems but a shallow victory in light of what has come to pass.”
There was an uncomfortable delay as Glak leaned forward again, looking no one in the eye. He stared in silence at his half-emptied cup and rubbed his beard in an agitated way. Elowyn could feel the mood of the room shifting from one of celebration and confidence, to one of great anxiety as Glak’s visible uncertainty unnerved the group. They glanced at one another with concerned expressions, looking for reassurance in each other’s faces, but finding none.
“The western slopes of the mountains, beyond Minhaven’s borders, are riddled with caves and dark chasms in which men’s footfalls are rarely heard. Lurking there is a danger that may prove to be a far greater menace than the thieves. In these last months we have encountered a growing number of savage beasts that I’ve never seen before. They walk upright and have the mastery of armor and weapons. They do not speak in any known language, making only guttural, primitive sounds to each other as the trolls do, yet they are not like trolls. They are the size of men, with sickly, blotched brown and yellow skin and round, red eyes. Each that I have seen has an identical circular mark on its forehead, more like a brand than anything natural. They are always together in great numbers, and those numbers are growing by the day.”
Elowyn gasped and accidentally dropped the metal pitcher she was holding. It clanged loudly as it bounced off the floor, spilling its contents all around her feet. Flushing red, she choked out a horrified apology and ran to the kitchen for rags and a new pitcher. In the privacy of the kitchen, she pulled up her sleeve to look at the oozing and still painful burns on her arm, while the terror of her dream engulfed her anew. She could hardly believe what she had heard, and yet the details coincided too perfectly. She was now troubled, more so than before, by the thought that what she had experienced during sleep two nights ago was more than an ordinary dream.
Elowyn splashed some cold water on her face, trying to both calm her fears and overcome her embarrassment at having dropped the pitcher in front of the most important group of men in Minhaven. Surely Wyman would never ask her to serve his guests again. Swallowing down both pride and tears, she took a deep breath and walked back into the adjoining room. She cleaned up the spill with her rags then stood silently in the shadows once more, clinging with all her strength to a newly filled pitcher. She forced her mind to focus once again on Glak and the imposing circle of men seated around the table. Glak had apparently not let her reaction to his tale distract him, nor did he acknowledge her return to the room.
“The few times the Kinship previously encountered the beasts, they did not appear threatening,” he said. “We had no grounds to challenge them so long as they were content to remain in their caves and bother no one. Then several weeks ago, we rode into the village of Solis. We expected to replenish our supplies and seek shelter from some rough weather that was bearing down from the north. What we found instead were the remains of a horrific massacre. The small village was strewn with the bodies of men, women, children, and livestock. No living thing had been spared.
“We searched for signs of who had committed this atrocity, finding our answer among some of the slain. A handful of the beasts lie among the dead—it was disheartening to see how very few there were. The attack must have taken the entire village by surprise, for there were no signs that defensive preparations had been made. Each seemed to perish while going about his daily business.
“We had little time to look around with the foul weather building on the horizon. We took the mountain road to the monastery above the village, only to discover that the monks had met the same fate. From what we could tell, the beasts’ intent was destruction alone—little, if anything, was taken. The golden chalices on the altar were untouched, the treasury room unopened, and food cellars still stocked for winter. We had no choice but to shelter in the monastery that night, taking great care to watch the road and the hillsides in rotating shifts. When morning dawned and the foul weather had passed, we gathered the bodies of the monks onto a rocky slope of the mountain and lit a pyre. There were simply too many to bury, and their stench had already begun to draw vermin. We carried out the same ghastly duty for the slain villagers, our souls sickened nearly to madness with every innocent life thrown onto the fire.”
Glak stopped speaking abruptly and closed his eyes. He cradled his head in his hands and rubbed his forehead intently, as though he were attempting to wipe away each horrific memory. The other man from the Kinship stared off into a dark corner of the room, turning away from the appalled expressions of his companions. His body might have been firmly settled into his seat at the table, but his mind was back in Solis, reliving each moment as Glak described it aloud.
“Before leaving that place,” Glak continued in a voice that was barely audible, “we erected a wooden sign to warn travelers, and sent two of our own on to the next monastery to inform the monks there of what had happened. The rest of the village we left as we had found it, since we did not want to profit in any way from the calamity that had befallen it.” His lips suddenly grew tight and his face paled in anger. “The thieves followed after more quickly than we anticipated. When our two messengers returned to us, they informed us that the thieves had already swept through the remains of the village and monastery to claim whatever treasure they could find. We resolved to eradicate the thieves once and for all, to honor the dead as well as to protect Minhaven from future attacks.
“We knew where their stronghold was and caught them off guard. We killed all that we found there, plundered their ill-gotten wealth, and torched what was left. Never have I seen my men fight with such fire in their hearts. I was pleased to see them so heartily welcomed into the festivities last night without having to give an immediate account of what happened at Solis. The Festival should remain a reverent and joyous celebration, devoted wholly to the Ancients. I would not be the one to taint it with stories of sorrow and mourning.”
Glak took a long, slow drink from his cup and watched the flames in the hearth dance for several moments before he continued. “And yet the people must eventually be told, as we remain in great peril here. We discovered during our attack on the thieves that they had been plotting a way to use the beasts as a weapon—to take out other villages, including Minhaven, without coming to harm themselves. We may have halted the thieves’ plans, but the beasts still roam free. Perhaps their eyes have turned toward us now, and we are as unsuspecting as the men and women of Solis.”
The other men around the table sat frozen in their seats, stunned and breathless. It seemed to Elowyn that it took a long time for anyone to speak.
Luc
an finally broke the oppressive silence that had fallen across the room. “This is grim news I find difficult to bear. I have been to Solis many times, trading goods in the village and delivering supplies to the monastery. To think they are all lost ...” His voice broke off and there was silence again for a long while.
Grindan spoke softly, “Solis was a sister city, living at the mercy of the mountains’ whims. Their fate could have easily been ours.” He raised his cup, saying, “May the dead find peace in Aviad’s keeping.” The others raised their glasses in silence and all drank together.
Glak leaned forward, looking intently at each of his companions around the table. “I am afraid that the beasts are not the only omen of darkness bearing down upon the world. My men have reported that throughout the lands, other strange creatures are emerging from the recesses of our mythology. Even Tyroc is not immune. Rumors are spreading that they have been plagued by a wolf-like beast that breathes fire.”
Elowyn swallowed hard at the mention of the Hounds, but she did not drop the pitcher this time. It would seem that the dangers they thought they had escaped by leaving Tyroc were catching up to them. Elias had warned Einar that Braeden’s eyes could see everywhere and that his hands reached far. Just how far? All the way to the northern most reaches of the world?
“This is the first we have heard of such things,” Lucan said with an alarmed expression.
“Aye, Minhaven is still very isolated and such troubles are often slow to find it. But many in the Kinship are well-traveled, and I myself have strong connections in other cities where we have given aid and protection. In some cases, our own eyes have been able to verify that the rumors are based in truth. Still, Minhaven is our home and our primary obligation. When the Festival is ended, I intend to lead my men into the mountains to see if we can thin the beasts numbers, if not destroy them all together. We will need all your help over the coming days to repair and replace damaged armor and weapons, to obtain warmer clothing, fresh food supplies, and other provisions as well. I realize that this will not be an easy task during Festival time, but the thieves gave up enough treasure that we can certainly make it worth your while. We will use whatever amount of the spoils we need to well prepare for battle, and the rest will be disbursed among the people.”
“Surely, you know that all we have is at your disposal,” Wyman replied. “Festival or not, we will do everything that we can to provide your men with the supplies they need. But would it not be wiser to set up our defenses here and wait until spring to go up into the mountains? You and I both know of the storms that can descend so suddenly at this time of year. Neither man nor beast can stand against them and live. It would be folly to let the storms bury all of the Kinship as they did my brother.”
“I must say that I agree with Wyman,” Brant added. “Now that we know of the beasts, we will not be caught unaware as Solis was. I will have my men increase their patrols and send a scouting group further out, to watch the foothills for signs of movement. Over the winter, I will recruit and train others, and make sure that our defenses are repaired and strengthened as much as possible. With all these measures in place, we should be able to hold out until spring without asking the Kinship to take undue risk for our sake. Anything more you can tell me about the weapons, armor, and nature of our new enemy would be of great help. Though from your description, it sounds as if their strength lies within their numbers and not in their weaponry.”
“By all means,” Glak replied, “set about those tasks at once. We must do everything possible to strengthen our position here should the Kinship fail. But I am resolved to bring these beasts to battle on my own terms. I well know the dangers of these mountains, having grown up on their very slopes. I fear that at the rate the beasts are multiplying, they may be too much for us to handle alone by spring. Why should we give them the time to grow and organize, and put us on the defensive in our own land? I would not allow them to come down upon Minhaven as they did Solis, showing no mercy to man, woman or child. No, we should take them by surprise—defeat them at their own doorstep before their numbers increase any further. All too soon the winter snows will close off the western passage and our chance will be gone. We must strike now.”
While Wyman still seemed apprehensive about this plan, he and all the other men present pledged their full support. Glak placed the member of the Kinship he had brought with him in charge of making all of the arrangements. The man immediately left with Lucan to begin their work. Wyman excused himself as he had more preparations to make for the coming evening’s festivities. Grindan, who had remained notably quiet during most of the meeting, was left sitting at the table with Glak, while Elowyn began to clear everything away and returned to the kitchen to finally begin her work. She noticed with some regret that hardly any of Wyman’s best food, which she had so carefully served out, had been touched.
The tension Elowyn had sensed the night of the Festival between Glak and his brother was unmistakable now. They remained together at the table, but their eyes were directed everywhere else in the room except toward each other. Grindan was the first to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence. “Well, little brother, it is good to have you back again, if only for the Festival. You know that our father’s home is always open to you should that empty cottage of yours get too lonely.”
“It is good to be home,” Glak said quietly. “I thank you for the offer of hospitality, but I am looking forward to whatever solitude I may be able to find over the next week.” Glak’s demeanor spoke of a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion.
Though Elowyn knew she shouldn’t listen in, she could not help it. With the tavern empty their voices carried all too clearly, and the curiosity she felt was no match for the mindless task of washing set before her. She hoped that Glak would give his brother more information about the beasts with the mark. If the beasts really were tools of Braeden, Elowyn knew that she would finally need to tell Morganne about her dream and everything she had heard.
“If all goes well,” Glak continued, “I’ll be able to spend the whole winter comfortably in Minhaven. And if we fail in our task, I suppose I’ll find my solitude buried beneath it.”
“I do not find such comments amusing,” his brother said sharply. “Wyman is right. Going so deep into the mountains right now is a terrible risk, for you and your men. Are you certain that with the proper defenses in place this battle cannot wait for the spring thaw?”
“All too certain. I know that my decision must sound rash, but I ask you to trust me on this point.”
“I want to trust you Glak, I do, but I look at you sitting there and I wonder...not about your judgment or your courage. I wonder about you, Brother. There was a young boy I once knew named Glak. He was gentle, and quiet, and he loved to wander the hillsides alone. He was intent on learning to be a blacksmith, like his father, and his father’s fathers. He plied the smith’s hammer with such precision and strength, many thought he would grow up to be the most skilled smith Minhaven had ever seen.
“Then one day, young Glak goes off to a distant monastery in search of a renowned healer, whom he believes can cure his elder brother of a deadly illness. He returns with the cure, but will not speak of his travels and is never the same afterwards. He abandons the forge and picks up a sword, not to planish it, but to wield it. Instead of roaming the green mountain hillsides in peaceful contemplation, he seeks out the dark, tangled places with an unquenchable fire burning in his heart. Day by day, he returns home bruised and bleeding, sometimes with bones and sword both broken. Yet no explanation he offers to the brother who remains his only blood kin in this world.
“And now that young boy is a man, who has worked hard to earn the admiration and loyalty of those who have pledged to follow him to whatever end he leads them. Glak’s elder brother, no doubt, remains one of his greatest admirers, proud as he is of his younger brother’s many accomplishments. Yet he worries when he sees the young Glak acting with reckless abandon, as though he values every l
ife but his own. His elder brother still questions each and every day what happened on that journey to the monastery so long ago, and wishes that he could dispel the shadow that has remained over his younger brother’s soul ever since. He asks himself, if the boy who was Glak had not made that journey for his elder brother’s sake, would he have lived out his days content as the preeminent blacksmith of Minhaven?”
His heartfelt question was met with stubborn silence.
In a soft, almost hurt tone, Grindan said, “For most of our lives, Glak, we’ve only had each other, and that has brought us closer than most brothers could ever hope to be. Yet since I recovered from my illness you have been hiding from me. Why? What happened to you out there? What pursued you on that journey to the monastery that you are still running from?”
Glak slammed his fist down on the table, hard enough to make Elowyn jump as she listened intently from the kitchen. “I am no coward, and I do not run from my responsibilities. If I were to run, we would all be consumed!”
“Do not raise your voice to me.” Grindan’s tone became stern. “I am not one of your underlings—I raised you in our father’s place from the time you were a child. I know more than any how resolute your courage is. You have nothing to prove to me, Brother. Even so, it is not your personal responsibility to fight all the evils of the world to extinction, and to believe otherwise is folly. Whether or not you care to admit it to me, or to yourself, you are running from something. Not responsibility, not beasts of the mountain, probably not even me, but something buried deep within you.” There was a long silence before Glak spoke again, this time in a softer tone.
Ancient Voices: Into the Depths Page 4