The Shrine of Kallen (The Tales of Zanoth Book 3)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  Already, the sounds of ringing bells had begun to echo throughout the city, blending with the noise of screaming men and clashing weapons. Several wraiths, who were unable to join the battle taking place in the sunlight, had gathered just inside the entrance to the citadel. The moment the party came into view, they attacked.

  Paul deftly dodged the first insubstantial hand that lashed out at him before returning the assault with devastating effects. Golden flames engulfed one of his foes as another reached out toward his very heart. The magical armor that encased him protected him from this attack. He almost felt as if he could see a look of surprise in his enemy's glowing red eyes as its hand failed to force its way through his armor. The paladin quickly squelched this sensation of shock by jamming his sword through the monstrosity's chest and bringing its unlife to an end.

  Myra dominated the mind of one of their foes and forced it to attack its fellows before she lashed out at another with the dark power. Nyssa covered a number in magical fire. Darek, Alena, and Sarrac struck down several more. Joey felt it would be best to keep what little arcane energy he might be able to wield in reserve. As a result, he simply started beating one of their foes in its incorporeal head with his staff. Almost to his amazement, this worked. Although it didn't kill the creature, it certainly gave it pause. For a moment, it seemed to gaze over the scene – where its companions were quickly being slaughtered – before deciding to flee through a nearby wall in order to escape the swinging staff of the fearsome wizard.

  As soon as these enemies had been overcome, the band made their way deeper inside the stronghold. What appeared to be a legion of zombies was filling the hallway they were passing through; continually pouring out of multiple chambers. They seemed to be making their way toward the courtyard. Fortunately, these foes were no match for the party.

  They cut down one after another without the slightest effort. However, these enemies were so numerous that walking over their dead bodies became somewhat difficult by the end. As was not slipping on the gore that completely covered the stone floor. It was also hard to be sure that each of them was completely dead when it collapsed. As a result, there were several times that one party member or another was caught in the grasp of an undead hand reaching up from the pile of corpses. Fortunately, a sword thrust or two was usually more than enough to deal with this situation.

  After they had finally managed to hack their way through these adversaries, they encountered a much smaller, and very different, group. Ten living guards stood in one of the chambers between where the party was and the entrance to the tower at the center of the citadel. A ghoul, who appeared to be their captain, was the first to spot the party.

  “Kill them, you fools!” he cried.

  “I wouldn't try that if I were you,” Darek asserted, stepping into the room with his sword at the ready and nodding back over his shoulder at Paul. “He's the it.”

  “There's no such thing!” the ghoul cried. “Now, kill them!”

  For a moment, the men stood irresolute. This so infuriated the captain that he drew back his blade to strike one of them down. Instantly, Darek sprang forward and jammed his sword through the ghoul's armor and chest.

  “What... what should we do?” one of the guards stammered as his commander dropped to the floor.

  “Drop your weapons,” Sarrac replied, “make your way to the courtyard, and surrender yourselves to the Warriors there.”

  “What will they do to us?” another asked.

  “I'm not sure,” the ogre admitted. “But, they won't kill you.”

  “If you don't drop your weapons,” Alena said, “we will.”

  Almost instantly, they lay down their arms and began making their way down the hallway the party had just left. The companions quickly made their way to the entrance of the tower. Surprisingly, it was unguarded when they arrived.

  “Up or down?” Joey asked, his gaze on the stairs at the far side of the chamber.

  “Up,” Alena replied. “The good governor is a ghoul. More than likely, he's at the top of the tower.”

  “Hold on,” Paul said with a thoughtful expression on his face. “I have an idea. What would happen if I destroyed the runes that help the governor control the wraiths in the city?”

  “There's a good chance they would go crazy,” Myra replied. “As I've told you before, they're not the easiest undead to manage, and most of them aren't exactly sane.”

  “That's what I was thinking,” the paladin nodded.

  “It's a good plan,” Sarrac asserted.

  “It is,” Alena agreed. “Let's just be quick about it.”

  The party plunged into the depths below; making their way quickly to and through the chamber that held the dark shard. Nyssa created a ball of light above her tiny head, sparing Joey the trouble, and the band continued down the steps at the far side of the room. The moment they reached the heart of the citadel, Paul took a flask of water in his hands and began to bless it.

  While he was doing this, several incorporeal undead drifted through the walls and into the chamber. One of these intoned words of arcane power while his allies attacked. As soon as the creature brought its spell to an end, the fairy's light was extinguished.

  Paul dropped the flask in his hand and ripped his sword from its scabbard. The magical darkness that surrounded them smothered out even what little light his burning blade offered. Assuming that it was, in fact, burning. At the moment, he couldn't see it.

  The paladin focused on discerning his enemies through the eyes of faith. He seemed to be wrapped in a cloud of glowing red mist. It was impossible to distinguish one undead foe from another. Everything around him seemed to be evil. Which hardly came as a shock, really.

  As his face was clutched in the icy grip of an incorporeal hand, he lashed out at the darkness. The sound of Darek yelling for everyone to spread out before one of them killed another was mixed with the fairy chanting earnestly. Myra ordered the undead to fall back and Paul heard her slam the butt of her staff on the floor. He could only assume that this had released a wave of dark power.

  After roughly five seconds of darkness, light once again filled the chamber. Unfortunately, the room was also filled with undead. Paul had no idea how many wraiths were down there with them, but ‘a lot’ seemed like an understatement. Also, they seemed to be really, really angry. At least, he felt it was fury that was burning in their glowing red eyes. Of course, maybe that was just him.

  “Drop dead!” he cried, snatching up his holy symbol as he did so.

  A wave of golden light erupted from the paladin, only to be countered by one of pure darkness.

  “Destroy those runes!” Myra yelled, before once again slamming her weapon on the floor and ordering the undead to retreat.

  The creatures obeyed the maiden, but only for a moment. Within seconds, they were once again advancing toward the party. Paul grabbed up the flask from the ground and began working feverishly to destroy the runes corrupting the ground on which they stood. While he was attending to this, Myra took up a position by his side, defending him from their enemies' attacks.

  Alena, Sarrac, and Darek surrounded the paladin and former lich, doing their best to drive back the horde of undead pressing in on them. Nyssa flew amongst the party members, supporting each of them with her magical flames as they had need. Joey started out using his staff, but gave this up after several seconds.

  One wraith managed to dodge his attacks. It successfully reached through his robes and grabbed him – if the agony ripping through his chest was any indication – by the heart. As he bellowed in pain, he channeled arcane energy through his staff, blasting electricity through his foe as well as several others drifting nearby.

  The sheer number of enemies they had to face made the situation difficult to deal with. Myra had taken control of several – including the undead spellcaster – and turned them against their enemies. She also struck down a few others using the dark power. In spite of her best efforts, however, one slipped past her a
nd made its way toward the praying paladin.

  Paul felt its fingers as they wrapped around his throat. It was attempting to tear his very soul from his body. Still, he couldn't stop what he was doing. All he could do was attempt to resist the creature. There were far too many undead for them to face, and the unholy ground on which they were standing made them even more powerful. If he and his companions were going to defeat them, he had to destroy the runes. Myra would take notice of the fact that one was killing him before it actually managed to. There was no way she would let him die mere feet from her. Of course, she did seem to be taking her time about it.

  After several seconds (though, it felt far longer than that to Paul), Myra realized the paladin was under attack. She demanded that the creature assaulting him die – which it immediately did. However, she was in such a hurry to destroy the monstrosity that she accidentally hit Paul with the same bolt of dark energy that killed the wraith. Of course, since he was completely immune to it, that didn't matter in the least.

  Just after this happened, the last of the corrupting runes was dissolved.

  “Drop dead!” Paul cried once again.

  This time, the effects were far more effective. A flash of golden light filled the chamber, countless throat-less screams echoes off the walls, and their enemies were burned to glittering dust.

  “That wasn't so bad,” he said with a wide smile.

  “It wasn't so good, either,” Joey observed, clutching his chest.

  “It was exciting,” Nyssa pointed out.

  “A prefer a different kind of excitement,” the wizard explained.

  “What kind?” she asked innocently.

  “It's funny you should ask,” he replied. “I've been meaning to discuss it with you.”

  “Have you?” she asked, slightly raising one eyebrow.

  “For some time,” he assured her. “Either way...”

  “Either way,” Alena interjected, “now's not the time. Paul, you need to destroy the rest of the runes.”

  Just minutes later, the paladin had destroyed the last of the runes. With this task complete, the party made its way back up the stairs. They arrived on the ground floor to find it completely under the control of the Warriors of Dawn. General Halfar had contacted Rex Shane and Thaelen and his men had cleared the tower while the party had been indisposed. They had not, however, defeated – or even discovered – Governor Bermoth as of yet.

  Shortly after they emerged from the depths, the general asked the it and his companions to help clear the streets. This was done in very short order. Not only was the garrison filled with legionnaires (whose only advantage was that of numbers), more Warriors were armed and dispatched to slaughter their foes with every passing minute. In less than two hours, the city had been captured.

  “Well done!” General Halfar said, marching toward the party as they made their way back into the citadel.

  “That's an understatement,” Rex Shane laughed, extending his hand to the paladin. “I never dreamed I would see this day.”

  “It has been an excellent one,” the general smiled. “Not only have we freed Parmoor, most of the living guards had sense enough to surrender.”

  “Mmmm,” Darek replied. “What do we plan to do with them?”

  “Give them the choice,” Rex asserted. “They can join us or leave the city.”

  “I don't think I like either of those,” Alena replied.

  “Nor do I,” Darek agreed. “Letting them join us is asking to be betrayed; letting them go is inviting them to join whatever army may end up heading this way.”

  “What choice do we have?” the general asked, his eyes locked on those of Darek.

  “They would have gladly killed us if their masters had ordered it,” he replied.

  “We're not like them,” Myra asserted.

  “No, we're not,” Alena agreed. “That's a point you really need to consider.”

  “We can't afford be stupid by trying to be noble,” Darek added. “These men have taken up arms against the living in service of the dead. We can't trust them.”

  “No,” Paul replied, taking a deep breath. “We can't. Well, not yet anyway. Most of them were probably just doing the best they could to survive in Zanoth. I doubt they relished working for the undead.”

  “Some of them may have,” the ogress said, shaking her head. “Governor Bermoth started out as a guard in this very city. Grathis transformed him into a ghoul for his years of faithful service. I don't think it would be a good idea to bring someone like that into the Fortress of Donmar.”

  “They're prisoners,” Sarrac pointed out. “I think the wisest course of action would be to treat them as such.”

  “How do you mean?” Alena asked, turning her face to his.

  “The fortress has plenty of prison cells,” he replied. “I say we use them.”

  “That's a good idea,” Paul nodded. “It'll keep them out of trouble, keep them close to their families, and give us time to decide what to do in the long run.”

  “I can see that,” Darek nodded. “It's merciful without being foolish. Alena?”

  “I suppose so,” the ogress replied with a lack of conviction. “We just need to keep a close watch on them.”

  “We will,” the general assured her.

  Having come to a temporary decision, General Halfar had the prisoners escorted to the cells and securely locked away.

  With this issue resolved, the Warriors turned their attention to moving as much of the city as possible into the fortress. As soon as word spread that Parmoor was being evacuated, the streets were flooded with people. The men watching over the gates found it almost impossible to control the incessant flow of shoving citizens seeking safety.

  Paul and Sarrac took the situation in hand. The paladin explained to the crowd that only women and children would be allowed into the fortress until there were none left in the city. He advised the menfolk to use the time this would take to pack up whatever belongings they could. Sarrac was in charge of enforcing this policy.

  A few men – doubtlessly driven by concern for their families – insisted that they be allowed inside with their wives and children. However, a few well-chosen words – and the massive sword laying across his shoulders – persuaded most of them to do as they had been asked.

  Alena also quickly waded into the fray, far less hesitant about using physical force than Sarrac when she felt that the need had arisen. Fortunately, she only got into a fist fight with a single massive, loud-mouthed fellow. Even more fortunately, the ogress's ability to beat him almost unconscious in a matter of moments convinced any other potential trouble makers that it wasn't worth crossing the muscular maiden.

  With some ground rules laid out, the flow of traffic became much more manageable. Thaelen organized a number of Warriors to help direct the women and children into the fortress. Once inside, Anne helped them find places to temporarily settle themselves until the evacuation was complete. In a very few minutes, this operation had been streamlined. Still, one thing was clear to the paladin: this was going to take some time.

  Chapter 13: Anticipated Attack

  “How long do you think this is going to take?” Joey asked, taking up a seat on the ground beside the paladin and gazing over the river of women and children that was flowing steadily into the Fortress of Donmar.

  “A few days,” Paul speculated. “There are thousands of people in Parmoor and they all have to pass through a single pair of doors.”

  “At least it'll give us a little time to rest,” the wizard replied.

  “Until Grathis's army gets here,” Darek pointed out. “Once that happens, we'll probably be fairly busy again.”

  “If it gets here in time,” Paul replied. “He's got less than five days to make it. If he reaches Kal Tammon before he finds out what's happened here, we may be long gone before his forces arrive.”

  “That's not likely,” Alena asserted, shaking her head.

  “What makes you say that?” Joey asked.
>
  “The fact that no one even spotted Governor Bermoth,” she replied. “My guess is that he fled as soon as we attacked.”

  “Why would he have done that?” Paul interjected.

  “He may have figured that the it was on his way,” Darek replied. “He knew that someone had escaped the prison, broken into the citadel, killed a few of his men, and vanished like smoke. We put the entire city on alert twice in the last two days. If I had been in his shoes, that would have put me on my guard.”

  “Bermoth is a survivor, not a warrior,” Myra added. “He was always a great deal better with his brain than his blade. He's gotten where he has by being cautious, clever, and several steps ahead of his enemies.”

  “Which means,” the ogress said, “that he may have already gotten word to Grathis.”

  “I think we should assume that he has,” she nodded, “and act accordingly.”

  “How could he have done that?” Paul asked. “His forces are days from here.”

  “I'm not the only one in Zanoth that can send messages with magic,” she pointed out.

  “Of course,” he replied. “I should have thought of that.”

  “You should have,” the fairy agreed. “Sometimes you're almost as slow-witted as Joey.”

  “I'm getting quicker,” the wizard replied. “I considered that very question, but I managed to work out the answer for myself.”

  “Well done!” she said, turning to him with a beautiful smile. “Which reminds me: I've been thinking about it, and I believe I've worked out a way we can both get what we want.”

  “That's certainly good news,” he replied with a smile of his own.

  “I agree,” she agreed. “I'm glad you do, too. So, that's settled then.”

  “Tentatively, I think it is,” he replied with a thoughtful expression. “Although, I would like you to walk me through it one more time.”

  “Are you seriously telling me that you don't understand something that simple?”