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

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  “So,” Joey said, as Paul slowly approached the rest of the party, “you done?”

  “As done as I can be for the moment,” the paladin replied. “I wish I could do more, but I've got to save something for tonight. In fact, I'd better take a nap.”

  “I think that's a good idea,” Myra said, offering him an understanding smile.

  “Well, before you do that,” Joey replied, “check this out.”

  Immediately, the wizard stepped just beyond the gates of the citadel and began to draw glowing blue runes on the cobbles with the end of his staff. The moment he drew the last of these, they vanished.

  “What did you do?” Alena asked, looking at the seemingly unchanged ground.

  “He created a ward!” Nyssa said excitedly. “Well done, Joey!”

  “Thank you,” he said with a bow. “It's something else I've been working on for a while.”

  “What does it do?” the ogress asked.

  “The first undead that steps on it is going to get a bit of surprise,” Joey replied.

  “Might they find it shocking?” Paul asked with a grin.

  “Very witty,” Joey said with mock disdain. “Sometimes, you almost stun me with how clever you are.”

  “Does he?” the fairy asked, gazing at the wizard from under a single raised eyebrow. “It must be because you're a little slow...”

  “Are you sure it works?” Alena asked. “I mean: it's not likely to go off when just anyone touches it, is it?”

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” Joey replied, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “Look,” he said, stepping into the area and walking around. “It's perfectly safe. I'm getting better and better with magic, you know?”

  “You are,” Paul nodded wearily. “But, be that as it may, I need a nap.”

  “So do I,” Joey replied with a stretch. “That took a lot out of me.”

  The pair made their way into the barracks of the fortress to get the rest they needed. It was the first time Paul had been inside for days. The party had spent the last few nights in a nearby inn, just to keep from adding to the constantly flowing traffic.

  The young man was amazed at the number of makeshift tents that covered the ground between the entrance and the keep. People were everywhere; carrying on the most mundane day to day tasks. Some were plowing up fields, others carrying buckets of water, and some sat around small fires cooking away to prepare the midday meal. He even spotted Thaelen and a small group of men working on what appeared to be the beginnings of a rather large house.

  On one side of the gateway was dread, war, and death. On the other was hope, peace, and life. Whatever happened, they had to keep the undead from making their way inside the fortress. For the first time in centuries, the living had a home. They couldn't lose it now. He couldn't allow that to happen.

  With these thoughts in mind, the young men fell asleep. Shortly before the sun reached the horizon, he was awakened by Myra's lovely voice. He slowly opened his eyes to find her wrapped in the glowing sunlight that was pouring through a nearby window. In his heart of hearts, he felt he'd never seen anything that looked more like what he imagined an angel must. One thing was certain; he needed to track that guy down and find out if he had a ring for sale.

  The decision was made to have the party start the night on the walls above the gate. If they were very fortunate, they might be able to keep the undead from lowering the drawbridge. If they couldn't manage that, they hoped they could at least slow them down to a certain extent. As soon as the sun set, the assault began.

  The first wave was, as they had anticipated, a horde of incorporeal undead. These were kept at bay, however, by waves of golden light that emanated from the sanctified ground as they approached it. Just moments after this initial assault was driven back, the companions found themselves the target of a second, more substantial, attack.

  A large force of scralee and reapers had made their way over the walls. This group was led by several skeletal knights and a familiar vampire. Paul took up a position on the very edge of the sanctified ground on which they stood and awaited the flood at the side of his allies.

  “So,” he said confidently the moment the vampire was in hearing distance, “we meet again, Commander Galfas.”

  “We've never met before,” the vampire replied, swinging the scimitars that he held in his hands. “If we had, you'd be dead.”

  “Well, I've heard of you,” Paul said. “Kal Tammon used to be your fortress.”

  “It still is.”

  “That's not what I heard.”

  As the paladin made this observation, the two groups crashed together. Several of the scralee and reapers burst into flames and even the skeletal knights howled in pain as their feet smoked and smoldered when they touched the holy ground. Commander Galfas was more cautious, however. He allowed his forces to press in on the foe, while he remained safely outside the area protected by the gods of the living.

  Myra commanded one of the knights to attack his allies. Instantly, he turned to do so. Before he could land a blow, however, Galfas ordered him to kill the former lich. This order was enough to free the monstrosity's mind. He dashed toward the maiden; letting out a fierce battle cry as he did so. Sarrac interrupted this charge; lashing out at the undead warrior with his massive two-handed blade, while Nyssa covered the creature in fire.

  Alena and Darek fought side by side, bringing one unlife after another to an end. Joey fought defensively, saving his power, and doing his best to keep enemies off his allies' backs. Myra decided to take a more direct tack, and ordered another of the knights to die; shooting a bolt of black energy in his direction. Before this attack reached its target, it was countered by another.

  In the shadows, just behind Commander Galfas, Paul spotted a robed skeleton wielding a staff. It was this creature that had protected the undead warrior from Myra's power. The paladin decided that this situation needed to change. He stepped beyond the confines of the hallowed ground and fell on the commander.

  This time, Paul was prepared for his opponent's skill. In truth, Galfas was the finest swordsman he had yet to face in Zanoth. Still, he was certain that he could defeat him with the aid of Telseir. At first, such seemed to be the case. The paladin clearly had the advantage as he drove his opponent back step by step. This proved to be a ruse, however.

  After Paul had moved some distance away from the sanctified ground, the commander called on his men to attack the paladin. He also exerted himself; showing the young man that – even with Telseir in his hand – Galfas was an opponent to be dreaded.

  Fortunately, before he could be completely overwhelmed, his companions rushed to his aid. The undead spell-caster fired a bolt of dark energy at the ogre as he flew toward the vampire, but Myra managed to counter this with a well-timed blast of her own. As skilled as Galfas was, he was no match for the combined efforts of Sarrac, Alena, and Paul. In mere seconds, the paladin was able to take advantage of an opening and jam his blade through the armor and into the heart of the commander. With a cry of agony, the vampire dissolved into mist and vanished from the walls.

  This had given the foe more than enough time to supplement their numbers, however. As the party fell back, a massive force of undead followed at their heels. The moment his feet touched the sacred ground, Paul turned. A wave of golden light ripped through the ranks of the enemy, leaving nothing in its wake but glittering dust.

  Suddenly, countless barbed shafts shot from the darkness. Providence, luck, and magical armor all worked together to save the party from this assault. One of the arrows did manage to make its way through Darek's forearm, however.

  “I think we need to fall back,” he said, glancing down at his injured arm. “We're too exposed here.”

  “I agree,” Alena replied as several more shafts were deflected by her shield. “Let's go.”

  The party quickly climbed down from the walls, thanking providence as one arrow after another narrowly missed them. Shortly after
they reached their next line of defense, which was in one of the streets that had been blockaded with everything the defenders could find, the sound of an explosion ripped through the air.

  “It looks like they've found a way to corrupt the place,” Joey observed.

  “They already knew how,” Myra pointed out. “It was just a matter of getting the opportunity.”

  “Let's try not to give them another one,” Paul said before taking a moment to heal his wounded ally.

  The battle continued to rage throughout the night. The living did far more damage than they took, but it was a battle of attrition. The undead seemed numberless, tireless, and relentless. Step by step and inch by inch, they drove the Warriors back toward the fortress. More than once, when the enemy was about to completely overwhelm them, the paladin turned; destroying their foes and giving them a moment of respite. As the hours passed, however, this exhausted him. He had done all he could with the divine power, the rest was up to the skill of the defenders.

  Just before dawn, the enemy came within view of the walls of the citadel. Thaelen, and nearly thirty of the Warriors, were suddenly cut off by the foe. General Halfar charged to his rescue; rushing into the ranks of the undead with a number of men at his heels. The old man had refused to use the divine power during the battle, saving it for just such an emergency.

  “To the grave!” he bellowed, holding his holy symbol aloft as he did so.

  Nothing happened. Seconds later, he was surrounded and struck down.

  “Mark!” Alena cried over the din of battle.

  Instantly, the party flew in the direction of their fallen friend. The undead were driven back before the rage of the ogress and the valor of the ogre at her side. Myra lashed out with the last of her power as Joey sent a bolt of lightning shooting from his staff into the crowd of foes they faced. Darek did his best to defend their flank, while Nyssa vanished from sight.

  Just before Paul reached the bloodied body of the old man, he heard the voice of the fairy above the noise of battle.

  “He's alive, Paul!” she yelled. “But, he won't be for long! I don't have the strength to heal him.”

  The paladin flew to the side of the general and prayed for the strength the save his life. The divine power flowed through him, setting his nerves ablaze. The general would live. At least, he would if they managed to retreat.

  The young man glanced over the battlefield to find he and his companions cut off from the citadel, just as Thaelen and his men were. Each group was struggling to reach the other, but there were too many undead between them. Even if they managed to join forces, they'd never be able to reach safety.

  There was only one thing he could do. Paul leapt to his feet, raised his holy symbol, prayed to be allowed to lay down his life for his allies, and turned. As a wave of golden light burst around him, darkness filled his eyes and the sounds of battle seemed to fade away. Then, there was nothing.

  Chapter 14: Take a Breath

  “Did I live?” Paul asked, slowly opening his eyes and gazing at the fair former lich who sat on the edge of a bed a short distance away. “Or did we all die?”

  “You lived,” she smiled. “Although, for a while, we weren't sure you were going to.”

  “I couldn't heal you,” Nyssa said from where she lay on her own bed. “I tried, but I didn't have the strength left to do it.”

  “Yeah,” Joey added with a stretch, “you scared us pretty good there, bro.”

  “Where are we?”

  “In the Fortress of Donmar,” the wizard replied, “in the barracks.”

  “Right... I mean: where is the fortress?”

  “You mean: ‘where is the gateway?’,” Joey corrected. “It's in the middle of nowhere on the edge of Mal’Creal.”

  “Under the circumstances,” Myra said, “we felt it would be better not to move it back to Kal Tammon. If Grathis attacked it with that army, we would have a hard time defending it.”

  “Why didn't you move it back to the fairy well?”

  “We considered it,” she replied. “But, after a brief debate, we decided that it would be better to move it someplace new.”

  “I just hope he doesn't find the place,” Paul replied.

  “So, he's awake at last?” Alena asked, opening her own eyes and rolling over on her side to look at the young man.

  “He is,” Myra nodded. “Thank the gods.”

  “I'm sure he's not any worse for the wear,” the ogress smiled.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Paul chuckled. “How long was I out?”

  “Just over twenty-four hours,” Myra replied. “You collapsed just before dawn yesterday.”

  “What happened after that?” he asked.

  “A lot,” Darek said, gazing at the ceiling. “The first thing was that your turn destroyed every undead in a two-hundred-foot radius or so. I must say, it was one of your best. After that, Sarrac threw you over his shoulder and we – meaning every Warrior outside the citadel – fell back behind the walls.

  “In less than a minute, the undead had regrouped and charged the gates. One of the skeletal knights who was out in front triggered Joey's ward and...”

  “And it was glorious!” the fairy interjected. “Lightning shot up from the ground and cooked him like an oversized unncar worm – although it didn't smell nearly that good – and then the lightning blasted through the crowd. It had to have killed a hundred of them.”

  “Not that many,” Darek replied, “but it did a lot of damage. It also gave them something to think about. They had no way of knowing that that was the only trap we had set. By the time they attacked the gates again, the sun had risen.”

  “We managed to drive them back and sally out,” Sarrac said. “They retreated – probably intending to regroup – just as the runes recharged. As soon as they did, we fled into the fortress and disappeared.”

  “I wonder what Grathis thought when he got inside the citadel only to find nothing there?” Alena added.

  “You can be sure he's trying to figure out how we did it,” Myra replied. “Gods willing, he never will.”

  “As soon as we were all back in the fortress,” Nyssa said, “Mark managed to heal you.”

  “He did?” the paladin asked. “That's odd. I wonder why his turn failed.”

  “I've been thinking about that since yesterday,” Myra replied. “I believe it's because the fortress – and hence the shrine – isn't actually in Zanoth.”

  “What do you mean?” the wizard asked.

  “It's like I explained before, Joey,” she replied. “Usually, divine power flows from the heavens, through shrines, temples, and other holy places to priests and paladins. That obviously doesn't apply to Paul, although I have no idea why. However, I'm fairly sure it is the case for Mark. He couldn't turn in Parmoor, but was able to heal Paul – and several other people – as soon as he was back inside the fortress.”

  “He couldn't sanctify the ground in the city, either,” Paul pointed out.

  “And, I couldn't transport us from the citadel to the shrine.” she added. “Which is another reason to believe that the fortress isn't connected to Zanoth even though the gateway is.”

  “I suppose I see that,” Darek replied. “On the other hand, you could have made a mistake with one of your spells.”

  “That's easy enough to put to the test,” Myra smiled. “Do all of you feel up to a trip to the village?”

  They all did. The entire band gathered around her as she drew a series of glowing runes with the tip of her staff. As soon as these were complete, she slammed the butt of her weapon on the floor. Darkness instantly enveloped the party. Moments later, they found themselves standing just outside the shrine.

  “It looks like I didn't make a mistake, after all,” the maiden said, turning her eyes to Darek.

  “I never doubted you for a moment,” he replied with a chuckle.

  “So, then,” Joey said thoughtfully as the party turned and began strolling back in the direction of the keep.,
“General Halfar can only use the divine power when he's inside the fortress.”

  “Such would be my guess,” Myra nodded.

  “That's not particularly useful, is it?”

  “It came in fairly useful for Paul just yesterday,” Sarrac pointed out.

  “Sure,” the wizard ceded. “Still, I think it would be a lot more useful if he could use it while he was in Zanoth.”

  “I won't argue with you there,” the ogre laughed.

  As they sauntered along, Paul was surprised at the level of noise currently being generated in the little village. The sound of saws and hammers filled the air, and throngs of chattering people filled the streets. It was clear that the fortress's new inhabitants intended to turn their new haven into a home as quickly as they could.

  The smell of cooking food drifted on the breeze as they approached the inn, which was now both occupied and in service. Darek insisted that they make their way inside to enjoy a decent meal together in complete peace and relative quiet. This suggestion was immediately agreed to, as none of the party members had yet to eat breakfast. After they had found a table and placed their orders, Paul returned to the subject of his unconsciousness.

  “So, other than the battle, did I miss anything exciting yesterday?” he asked, turning to Myra; who sat by his side.

  “I wouldn't say exciting,” she replied.

  “General Halfar held a service for the fallen,” Joey said. “He asked us whether or not we should wait until you were awake, but we told him to go ahead without you. Everyone understood why you couldn't be there, and we felt that it was the kind of thing it was best to handle quickly.”

  “That was probably wise,” Paul replied before taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “How many men did we lose?”