The Q'Herindam

by B Cameron Lee

  At last, during a halting session of pointing and naming, Arwhon discovered the Droogul did not use that name for themselves. In their language, they were the Guilar.

  Arwhon stayed what he believed was only two days with the Guilar, eating, sleeping and resting. The young ones started to come to him on the second day, shyly at first then in numbers. It was so pleasant to have them sit on his knee, trustingly, as he practiced his Guilar speech with them. In time Arwhon recalled his duty and asked to be led back to Dwarfholme. He saw fear on the faces of the Guilar at the mention of the name. However, the partner of the female he had first healed stepped forward and offered to show him the way and they set off.

  It took what Arwhon reckoned was over a day of walking, through tunnels and caverns, some of them so big that the smallest sound echoed repeatedly. He saw veins of minerals, occasionally the flash of crystal and odd colourless plants growing in some of the hot springs they passed. Eventually the Guilar, who named himself Dobar, slipped through a crack in a cave wall and Arwhon, following, found himself behind a rock high up in yet another cavern. Dobar pointed out a tunnel down below and nodded, indicating Arwhon follow it. Then he took Arwhon’s hand in his and got down on his knees in subjugation again. Arwhon gently raised Dobar up and showed him how men clasped hands.

  Dobar jumped up and down excitedly at this show of equality and it took Arwhon some time to explain to Dobar he wanted the Guilar to wait for him in the cavern on the far side of the crack until he returned. Dobar seemed to understand and gave him a warm smile before turning and sure footedly moving away through the gap, only pausing once to look back over his shoulder.

  The passageway Arwhon found himself in took him straight to Dwarfholme. Before entering the huge cavern, he buckled on his helm, not knowing what to expect. Arwhon remembered the way to the King’s residence and took it. All around him dwarves stopped what they were doing and fell silent. The marketplace lost its bustle as both sellers and buyers stilled, watching wide eyed as he passed. Whispered word spread like wildfire and Dwarfholme came to a standstill. Arwhon knocked on the door of the King’s residence and it was opened. The servant gasped when he saw Arwhon.

  “Wait here please. I need instruction.”

  He shut the door and Arwhon could hear him scurry off. The flustered servant soon returned and the door swung wide to admit Arwhon. He was taken immediately to the see the King.

  Ironsides looked very angry, red faced as he strode back and forth in front of his stone seat, stopping only to be seated when Arwhon arrived following the servant.

  “The Mage said you were dead. Lost to a Droogul attack. I couldn’t see how a warrior like you would succumb to Droogul but you’ve been gone three weeks or more. What say you?”

  “Sir, your Mage is working for the Q’Herindam against Man. He sealed me in Durhain’s Cave with a Dwarf Magic ward. I was in there for most of the time I’ve been away but discovered some magic of my own.”

  Ironfist looked perplexed.

  “I’ve known the Mage for many years. He’s a surly old beggar but murder? We’ll summon him and see what he has to say.”

  “Sire, by now the whole of Dwarfholme knows I’m back. If we don’t go to the Mage’s residence immediately, he will escape to do harm elsewhere. Can I have permission to go to his residence?”

  The King stepped down from his padded chair.

  “You and me both. I want to hear what he has to say about this. Guards!”

  The King’s bodyguard rushed to assemble, buckling on helms and forming into two ranks, axes at the ready. Ironsides and Arwhon left the King’s residence post haste, following the bodyguard. With the burly dwarves clearing a path through the crowds they quickly made their way through Dwarfholme to the bottom of the narrow track leading up to the Mage’s residence. With any luck he hadn’t heard the news yet.

  “It would be better if I went first Ironfist. I can protect myself and you and your men from magic now. The Mage may be expecting us.”

  The Dwarf King agreed, so Arwhon took the lead up to the Mage’s residence, not wasting any time. Soon Arwhon strode up to the Mage’s door, the King and his guard puffing and panting behind him as they strove to keep up with his Man sized steps. Arwhon knocked and stepped back. Grumbling could be heard from within and the door was thrown open.

  The Dwarf Mage’s eyes widened in shocked recognition of Arwhon and without any preamble or warning the Dwarf Mage immediately raised his arm and threw a fierce and deadly spell towards Arwhon. It bounced harmlessly off a shield of Fire.

  “I did learn some Fire Magic after all Mage. Now what were you saying about the Q’Herindam being right and Man should be wiped out?”

  The Dwarf Mage tried to slam the heavy door but Arwhon turned it to ash instantly. The Mage’s beard and hair were singed with the heat of it as he stepped back but the stoic old dwarf did not give up.

  “Manlover.” He spat at the King, who stood beside Arwhon, before trying another spell against them which Arwhon easily blocked once more.

  It was too much for one of the guards, his King being threatened. He threw his spear, piercing the Dwarf Mage right through the heart. The Mage toppled backward and lay still.

  Arwhon wasn’t sure about this at all. It seemed much too easy. He knew magic was deep and complicated and he’d only just begun to paddle in the shallows of it. He remembered the previous conversation with the Dwarf Mage regarding the avatars and felt the Mage may have yet another trick up his sleeve. Arwhon turned to the King.

  “May I make sure the Mage is really dead, Ironfist? He’s a crafty old bugger and may yet have another twist or two left.”

  The King nodded.

  “Do it.”

  Arwhon drew his sword and pointed it at the apparently dead Mage. There was a bright flash of light and after the smoke cleared all that remained of the Mage and the spear was a small puddle of molten steel on the stone floor.

  Ironfist was suitably impressed.

  There was a snuffling noise at the back of the cave and Arwhon raised his sword to point it at the source but was relieved when Leadfoot crept forward, his hands held high.

  “Please, don’t hurt me. I’m not like him. I knew he was evil but he threatened to kill me if I told anyone. All I wanted was to learn magic.”

  Ironfist looked Leadfoot up and down speculatively.

  “Did you manage to learn any lad?”

  “Quite a lot yes, Sire, and there are grimoires on the shelves which hold yet more.”

  Ironfist relaxed a little, considering Leadfoot’s words.

  “Well, time to test your talents. You are now Dwarfholme’s new Mage. Probationary of course, so attend to your studies and prove your value to this Kingdom my lad.”

  An apprentice no longer and honoured to serve, Leadfoot beamed ear to ear as Arwhon and the King left him.

  “I suppose you’ll be off now.” Ironfist remarked to Arwhon as they walked back down to central Dwarfholme with their guard in tow.

  “Well, I’d like to but there’s something very important I must do first and it involves you.”

  Ironfist looked up at Arwhon speculatively.

  “I suppose you mean some form of payment for the trouble you’ve been caused by that double dealing Mage?”

  “No, nothing could be further from my mind. I would like you, and only you, to come with me into the tunnels for an hour or so. I can guarantee your safety.”

  The Dwarf King looked relieved.

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, and I would like to go there straight after lunch.”

  The Dwarf King agreed and after they’d retired to his residence to dine, Arwhon and Ironfist set off alone into the tunnels.

  Arwhon easily remembered the way back to the cavern he’d been left in by the Guilar, it wasn’t too far from Dwarfholme. He stopped mid way along it, just below the conspicuous boulder perched high up on a ledge. The Dwarf King appeared puzzled by Arwhon’s actions but said nothing, merely waited
. Arwhon addressed him.

  “Ironfist, in all my dealings over the last year or so, I’ve learned to give trust. Initially, some thought I was foolish but each time I’ve trusted, so far, my trust has been rewarded. I’m asking you to trust me now and no matter what you see or hear, please do not draw a weapon or do anything rash.”

  Ironfist was now quite unsure where this was leading, expecting grand displays of magic or some other such equally wondrous thing but when Arwhon called out in a strange tongue he was perplexed. All Arwhon was doing was saying ‘Hello Dobar’ in the Guilar language. It took a few more calls before a large eyed, white furry head peered around the rock high above.

  Ironfist jumped.

  “Droogul, Droogul. Draw your sword Man. Quickly or it will have us.”

  Dobar’s head disappeared instantly at this outburst but Arwhon placed his hand on the Dwarf King’s shoulder to steady him and called out for a second time. Dobar’s head craned around the rock once more and the Guilar saw Arwhon with his hand on the King’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze now and again.

  “Be silent Ironfist. Sir. Dobar will not hurt you. I stayed with him and his Tribe for two days on the way back from Durhain’s Cave. It’s a tale worth telling and I will but first, you two must meet.”

  Arwhon spoke softly again and motioned Dobar to descend from his high perch. The Guilar, showing much trepidation, climbed down slowly and stood on the other side of Arwhon from Ironfist. Arwhon squatted down until they were all about the same height and spoke softly to Dobar for a moment. Ironfist’s eyes were like saucers as he saw the creature he had lived in fear of all his life standing less than an arm span from him. While they were both quiet, Arwhon took the time to explain what he knew to the King of the Dwarves.

  “In Durhain’s Cave, there was a passage of script which told of the creation of seven races on this world. Dobar is not a Droogul. Their name for themselves is Guilar and they entered into the natural passages under Mehgrin’s Wall long before the Dwarves started digging into the mountains. They have access to the surface on the Myseline side of Mehgrin’s Wall but only venture out at night. Their numbers are small but they have some sophistication. Look at these.”

  Arwhon withdrew the carved bone and a carved jewel from his pouch and handed them to Ironfist to examine. The Dwarf King gave a low whistle as he turned them over admiringly. The whistle was repeated by Dobar. Ironfist smiled and whistled a little tune which Dobar repeated. Looking over Arwhon’s helm, they smiled at one another as Arwhon provided the King with yet more information.

  “The goats you lose are only taken when the Guilar cannot find any other food. Usually in the depths of winter outside, when the snows lay thick upon the ground. If need be, I will pay you to supply the Guilar with any excess or old goats you may have from time to time.”

  The Dwarf King shook his head.

  “No need Arwhon.” he said as he handed back the carved bone and jewel. “It appears there has been a misunderstanding which has gone on for far too many years. To think we were killing folk of another race is sickening, especially our neighbours. Tell this Guilar I will instruct all Dwarves not to harass, chase or kill them and we will leave a goat here, at this spot, every week as a sign of our good faith.”

  By dint of his smattering of the Guilar language and sign and hand talk, Arwhon conveyed the message and when Dobar eventually understood, he jumped up and down with excitement for a moment before offering his open-palmed hand to the wise Dwarf King. Ironfist took the Guilar’s hand into his warm, sincere clasp.

  Another mending.

  All the way back to Dwarfholme, Ironfist spoke in an excited torrent about how people wouldn’t believe him and if he’d only known and how marvellous for Arwhon to find out about the Guilar. It was quite exhausting answering the King’s questions so Arwhon finally promised the whole story over dinner that evening. The King was an avid listener and they talked far into the night. Finally, Ironfist asked Arwhon if he wanted to return to Belvedere through the tunnels that had brought him here. A saddened Silverseam had already returned to Belvedere, presuming Arwhon dead, but he’d been told by his King to keep quiet about Arwhon’s death because of the shame it would bring to the Dwarves.

  Arwhon thanked the King but asked if he could be taken up to the surface instead, as he missed the sunlight and planned to make his own way back to Belvedere.

  So it was that Arwhon was delivered into the blue sky and green forest with a pack of food, a bottle of water and the warmest thanks from the Dwarf King, who personally escorted him. They said their goodbyes at the concealed door and Arwhon set off, glorying in the sunshine which would now become part of his Firemagic. He would have to go to Trugor to discover what the obelisk had to offer but first there was his loved one, Shiri and Cristal, Cringle, Krissi and Duran to catch up with in Belvedere.

  As soon as he thought this, his mind flooded with a warm yearning and he heard a piercing cry from somewhere above. Arwhon looked up to the fearsome sight of a fully grown Gryffon stooping on him. With a flare of wings and a few backflaps, Krissi landed before Arwhon and casually knocked him over to lick his face.

  6. Water finds its own Level.

  Kuiran sat in the study of his parent’s home reading his way through a pile of dusty books. His birth parents. Merina and Abron. He called them by their own names rather than Mother and Father. It was disconcerting having two sets of parents. Kuiran felt he was still the son of Vehrin’del and Jahron’dal of the Darkwood but now his birth mother and father were also in his life.

  The trip down from the Tower had been necessarily slow and required more than a few days stay at the inn in the mountain village. Nearly everyone there remembered his parents from the time before the Council of Mages and were thankful they had survived the ordeal of imprisonment. It had taken Merina and Abron some time to recuperate from their twenty year ordeal but magic had its ways and in a week or so they were much stronger looking and moved around far more easily.

  Merina and Abron’s house had been appropriated during their long imprisonment in the Tower and while the two of them languished behind warded stone walls for twenty years, it was used by one of the Council of Mages. But the Council was no more, so all of the dead Mage’s belongings and arcane paraphernalia had been thrown out of the house onto the street which ran along the front wall of the grounds. Left there for whoever wanted it. Come morning the street was empty and quite a few citizens had reason to thank Merina and Abron for their generosity.

  The four rescued Wyalonians from the Tower had been greeted with joy by most of the populace of Sanctuary, who remembered them from before the rule of the eight Mages. Kuiran’s mother and father had taken over some of the responsibilities of running Sanctuary along with the other couple from the Tower, Abron’s brother Jermiah and his wife Effany. It took some of the strain off Commander River’s shoulders and soon Sanctuary settled down, petty squabbles and arguments disappearing with the security given by able leadership.

  Each night Kuiran learned more history of the troubles on Wyalon and why he was sent away from the island, placed onto the bosom of the sea in a spelled casket. He learned Ssarista was tasked with guarding him until he reached his destination and asked to keep an eye out for him if he ever needed help. The Q’Herindam were the problem, even here on Wyalon. Merina had told him all she knew of them.

  Apparently, the Q’Herindam, although they’d split from the peaceful, Earthmagic using M’Herindar, were still not content with their lot. Their burning ambition was to rid all the lands of the taint of Man. To that end they had decided to relearn all four of the magics and studied Watermagic, Airmagic and what they could find of Firemagic besides the Earthmagic they already commanded. They were trying to recapture the might of the Hirondae from days long past in the hope it would give them the strength to fulfil their singular driving aim. The destruction of Man.

  Merina did not know where the evil driving the Q’Herindam came from, nothing in her stud
ies could explain it completely. Apparently, the seven Watermagic wielders who became the Council of Mages on Wyalon were corrupted by the eighth, a disguised Q’Herindam Mage who could, quite passably, work Watermagic.

  It was thought he was actually a Wyalonian until the coup.

  Kuiran learned he himself once had a brother and sister but the Council of Mages had killed them and the reason he was set adrift was down to an old Mage who had foreseen the trouble coming.

  “Watermagic lends itself to intuition, divination and farsight,” Merina had explained to him one night. “We are insightful and empathic anyway but the Watermagic extends the ability in some of us. We were warned our children were in danger and to send you away. Abron worked hard on the metals of the casket to instil memory in them so the spells he placed there could be used when necessary.”

  Merina rose and once more felt the metal ends of Kuiran’s staff. In her capable large hands his staff seemed almost normal sized.

  “I see you intuited where they needed to go. I worked at the spell which suspended your life until the casket was opened and also on the spell to guide the casket where it needed to go across the oceans. We chose the Darkwood because the M’Herindar are renowned for being a peaceful people and we hoped your life would be peaceful too.”

  Kuiran wearily shook his head.

  “The Wise Ones of the M’Herindar gave me the task of being Arwhon’s bodyguard, the Arm. Arwhon is a young man who set off from home to visit his Grandmother but he found a Ring which claimed him. With the aid of the magic in the Ring and the people who came to serve him, he rapidly grew strong enough and clever enough to free the lands from Dominion but he still carries on the fight against the evil of the Q’Herindam. I came here to learn Watermagic so I could return and aid him further in his quest.”