Lands of Daranor: Book 01 - DreamQuest

by Bill T Pottle

  “Spare my life, please,” she pleaded. “I can rule with you…I can do anything you want me too…” her clothes began to melt away, revealing a beautiful half-naked woman, who pressed her body against Tarthur. She reached behind her for a dagger, even as Tarthur threw her to the ground.

  “Why don’t you ever understand? You cannot offer me anything, except your life, which I take now.” Tarthur reached forward, and sent fire lancing into Marhyn’s body, which shuddered once and then became still, smoldering on the ground. Tarthur stared at her without pity for a moment, and then began to weep at all he had witnessed, all the pain that had been caused, over and over again.

  A thin wisp of blue smoke, the color of the marble in Marhyn’s fortress, wafted up from the corpse as Tarthur was crying, head in hands. He felt the life-force, looked up, and nodded softly. With a sweep of his hands he let the walls of water crash down, obliterating any trace of the smoke or the body.

  Tarthur turned to look at the flaming elven forest and sent another set of waves into it to extinguish the fires. There was a gigantic hiss as the fires gave their heat to the water, and colossal columns of steam rose up to the sun.

  Zelin was destroying the Death Lord’s army. Instead of fleeing, as they should have done, they had decided to stay and fight it out to the end. The monsters there just wanted to kill anyway. A few of the men had deserted, but for the most part, they were there to kill or be killed.

  Most fell into the category of the latter. With two elements of power, they were no match for Tarthur. The rest of the king’s army began to fight on soul now too. Their bodies were absolutely fatigued beyond all belief, but they saw the end in sight, and nothing could turn them back from their aim. Before twilight fell, the entire force of the Death Lord and that of his sister had been obliterated.

  Tarthur was dead tired. How he had gotten the orb, or made it back so quickly, were stories that had to wait for another day. The first thing he did when he got back was to seek out Derlin. The two looked at each other and began to cry together as men. They embraced, and that was where Tarthur collapsed.

  The healers’ tents were overwhelmed that night, and the army did not leave the site of the battle for almost a week, except to move a little inside the trees to escape the stench. Yvonne insisted on caring for Tarthur herself, and there was no one who would argue with her. She only allowed Derlin and a doctor in for a few minutes. Tarthur was very near death, he had used all of physical strength to return so quickly and use the magic. Yvonne sat up all night, wiping his head with a cloth and exhorting him to hold on.

  People came up, Yonathan and Kandan among them, and others that had not been able to fight came up to staff the healers’ tents and bury the bodies. There were many serious cases of men whose bodies simply gave up. They had lost blood and sweat, and driven themselves to extreme fatigue. There were widespread infections and diseases that most of the army doctors had no way of fixing. Tarthur himself was in bed for three days before he finally rose.

  Upon leaving his tent, Tarthur received a standing ovation from the crowd. It was time to tell his story. Yet, what could he tell? He got up, told them of his meetings, told them of Yan and his ultimate sacrifice, for he had learned that Yan was once again outside of the world, lost in time. After the battle with Darhyn, Yan might have been able to retransform himself, but instead he had used all of his power to meld Tarthur’s body with the wind, and fly him back to Breshen. Yan had given up everything, and so had so many others who had given their lives in the fight against evil. Then a strange thing happened. For the first time ever, someone would have said that Tarthur was modest. He didn’t see himself as a hero, at least no more so than anyone else who had stood together on the field that day, or those who had fallen before. He did, however, use his moments of fame to call for better relations among the races. They had been lucky, but they must be united since the threat could come again. And for once in his life, Tarthur told the story exactly the way it happened, without embellishment. It needed none.

  Later that day the council met to discuss everything and make sure that there were no loose ends. This time when they met, they were in high spirits, and there was none of the tension that had marked their earlier meetings. Tarthur began. “So after all this, I really still don’t understand everything. Why did Darhyn choose me? I mean, what was his plan?”

  The members looked around hesitantly at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Finally it was Zelin who spoke. “We have been hard at work trying to determine this for over a year now, and I think we finally have some answers, though not all. Why it was you…that we don’t know.”

  Tarthur spoke again, suddenly remembering something. “One thing he said to me surprised me. I had forgotten about it until now. Darhyn told me, ‘I have saved your pitiful life enough times.’ When did he ever save my life?”

  Zelin sighed. “This is indeed important. It might fill in some gaps that I have been wondering about. For instance, why were you allowed to escape so easily from Marhyn? Why did she not simply kill you when she had the chance, or put you under maximum security? Why have you been so incredibly lucky? Here is what I surmise. Whether it is what truly happened or not, only Darhyn knows…”

  “After the last war, Darhyn sent the Water Orb out of the world so we would not be able to reclaim it from him. He was preparing to set up an army and attack us, but before this he sent his mind out to find some humans who could do his bidding. He found Warren, and he found you. He probably found others too, although, they are no threat to us now that their master is gone. He began to help them rise in power and status, so they would be where he needed them when the time came to attack. But you, Tarthur, you messed up his whole plan. For you wounded him. Yet much more importantly, you destroyed the Water Spell. Yes, when you read aloud the original spell, you destroyed it and took away Darhyn’s ability to use the Orb. But luckily for us, you copied down the spell in your sleep, and so it was not lost to us. Little did you know that one act would be so important. It’s hard to believe that he could overlook something so important as making a copy of the spell, but more often than not it is overconfidence that brings down the powerful.”

  “After this, Darhyn’s plan changed. Without the aid of the Water Orb, he couldn’t march into Breshen and take it and take the whole kingdom like he could have with it. He would have had a chance if Warren had killed King Garkin, and he probably would have been able to stop, or at least delay a mobilization. But Addyean thwarted that plan. So he had to wait and build up an ambush in Castle Rathskellar, knowing that we would go in after the Orb. He meant to destroy our army there and kill you, taking the spell. That way, he would have no trouble defeating us.”

  Tarthur was puzzled. He didn’t want to believe that all this time they had only been walking into a trap. “But, what about the skull knights that attacked us?”

  “Did they ever attack you directly? Or did they attack Yonathan, Derlin, and Yan only? Remember back when you came to us, you had no wounds from them. They were probably trying to keep up the charade, or they were trying to kidnap you and bring you and the spell back to Darhyn. That could also explain why the Rune Sword flared up to wake you. It sensed their deception.”

  “But Darhyn wasn’t the only one protecting you. The Orb itself has the power to control things. When we met in the Vale, Tustor revealed that it had placed a marker on you, and this is what protected you from coming to harm from Marhyn. The Orb wanted to come back. It sensed that it was needed, and now with the destruction of the merfolk, it has come to pass. It will be needed to help them rebuild.”

  Now the question came from Addyean, and it was directed more at King Garkin than the others. “Why did Warren slip past us? Did he have some kind of marker as well? Considering recent events, I wonder why I did not learn that he was evil at Treshin.”

  Zelin replied. “No, Warren did not have any kind of marker. I myself sensed something was off, but I did not imagine that this would happen.”

/>   Dalin spoke up. “Perhaps it didn’t have so much to do with Darhyn as with other things. My father once told me that he would die from a monster biting him in half. It had to do with something that had happened earlier in his life. Still, I wonder how he knew…”

  The council fell silent at this revelation. No one spoke for a few minutes, and then General Cilio broke the silence. “I have sent units of the army to Castle Rathskellar to go and destroy the infernal fortress once and for all, and to try to till the soil. The same will be done in the south with Marhyn’s castle. I believe that these two will never trouble us again, and we can set up memorials on the spots and set up cities nearby. That way, others who would be like they were will have no place to erect fortresses, and if they do we will have plenty of advance notice.”

  Zelin spoke with satisfaction, but his oldness and frailness were apparent. “From Tarthur’s accounts of the deaths, I think we can believe that Darhyn and Marhyn have really been defeated and destroyed. If Darhyn has in fact made it to another dimension, we may have to worry about him coming back at any time, so we must be always in a state of perpetual readiness. We will have magicians watch the gates, and we will be ready if he comes again. But with Water, Earth, and Fire on our side, even if he comes at the peak of his power, we should be able to defeat him. Now that we have the Water Orb, we can also take the self protect spell off of the Earth Grain, by attacking, and using the Earth Grain to defend ourselves. Polu and I will take care of this.”

  That settled, the council decided to retire, and Tarthur couldn’t help feeling very lucky.

  * * *

  The days rolled by, and gradually everyone went their separate ways. Sir Terin and General Cilio went back to the capital to run the city in the absence of the king, who stayed with Derlin, Tarthur and the elves in Breshen. It was approaching midsummer, the elven time of grieving.

  Tarthur and Derlin once again went to stay with Dalin in his tree. When they came back, Valena rushed out, grabbed Derlin tight in her arms, and held him there, as if she would never let go. She had already heard about Hano.

  Derlin reached inside his vest and pulled out the green ribbon that he had kept ever since the last time they had met. It was stained red in a few spots with blood.

  The meeting between the two started awkwardly. “I’m sorry about what happened to Hano and your father…” Derlin began softly. “I know they meant a lot to you…”

  Derlin looked into her deep eyes and saw the pain there burning so intensely. He could tell the death of her father and fiancé had hurt her tremendously. Without speaking, she put a finger to her lips and held Derlin tighter.

  In the week that they stayed in Breshen, Derlin and Valena grew closer than ever before. They talked all night long, about their stories, about pain, and about what it meant to be alive. Derlin had never realized that it was so tough to be a princess. Sometimes they fell asleep in each other’s embrace. Dalin smiled but said nothing.

  The ceremony honoring the dead was beautiful. King Garkin stood beside Dalin as they mourned Hano, the elven king, and the forest itself. The trees that had died in the fire were called by name, and an account of them was told by the other trees. They started out on the sacred lawn, where an elven caller described the dead. He told of their childhoods, their loves, and their sacrifices. The elven community was close. Everyone knew everyone else. When it was done, they walked silently through the forest, contemplating the passage of time. The leaves were already beginning to turn various colors and as they fell they formed a carpet of color for the mourners to walk on.

  For a few days, no one said anything. The whole group lived in silence, and then abruptly King Garkin announced that he must go back to the capital, and Tarthur and Derlin knew that they had to go with him too. Derlin was having terrible problems trying to decide what to do. He wanted to spend his life with Valena, and it looked as if she wanted to spend hers with him as well.

  One night when they were talking, Dalin walked into the room. He looked a little sterner than usual, and Derlin and Valena turned to greet him.

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard, Derlin, but the king plans to leave for Tealsburg tomorrow at sunrise. He was hoping that you would join him.”

  “Actually, your majesty,” Derlin began to reply. It felt weird to think of Dalin as a king. He had not formally taken the title. Everyone just seemed to call him that. “I was kind of hoping to live here for a while. If that’s okay…”

  “Well,” Dalin replied. “You know that the elven rules about marriage are very strict. In the present situation, they have become even stricter. She is the princess, you know. If anything were to happen to me…you’d be next in line for the throne.”

  “The throne? I don’t want the elven throne, I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with it!”

  “I know that, Derlin. I know that you are a good and honest man, and there is no one that I would rather wed my sister to. However, you still have a few responsibilities in the world to take care of first. And things around here are very hectic right now. I think it would be best if you returned to Krendon with Tarthur for a little while, just a few months. Then after that, if your heart is still true, you could come back. I should have established a more firm control by then, and if you two love each other as much as it looks to me…then there’ll be no problems. That’s as long as you agree to give up the throne, of course.”

  Derlin sighed. Being separated from Valena for even one minute was torture. He didn’t even like leaving her to go to the bathroom. But Dalin was right. He did have responsibilities to the rest of the world for a while longer. The war had caused such terrible devastation, and he would be able to help inspire the people to have hope in the future. He nodded. “I guess you’re right again, Dalin.”

  He turned to Valena. “You know I’ll miss you dearly, precious. So let the time pass swiftly until my return.”

  They talked all that night, and once again fell asleep in each other’s arms. Derlin rose to go early in the morning. Afraid to touch what appeared to him to be a beautiful statue, he gently moved a stray lock of hair from her face. She stirred, and then awoke. The look in Derlin’s eyes told her that it was time for him to go, at least for a little while, and she reached up her hand softly, and gave him a cool kiss on the lips, whispering, “I love you too” into his ear. It was the first time she had told him.

  Derlin was smiling the whole way back.

  * * *

  In Tealsburg, the festivities were grand. Tarthur couldn’t help feeling a little bad for the people who weren’t there, those who had given up everything for the others to survive. Tarthur met Yvette again, and she actually seemed rather impressed by him. He should have noticed it, but the whole world was amazed. Already the legends were beginning to grow about the man who bore two elements of power. “Seven feet tall,” he was. He had come from some “remote northern province, where he killed cougars and minidrakes with his bare hands,” and “spat into the eye of Darhyn,” who had “quaked in fear and run away from the vicious hero.” Tarthur himself admired some of the stories, they were quite well told. He decided that he should have thought of them himself earlier in Krendon.

  The formalities and court presentations didn’t give either Tarthur as much pleasure as he had always imagined that they would. Before, he would have loved to have known a real knight, but that day Tarthur had every rank of knighthood, every conceivable title of generosity and magic and every beneficial adjective heaped on top of him until he thought he was going to be buried. It was weird for the boy who had always been poor to ask for anything and have it immediately granted by the king. An earldom? Sure, why not? Horses, swords, gold, food? Whatever Tarthur asked for was provided him free and without delay. Just for the heck of it, he had himself promoted to Earl of the North, with Derlin as his lieutenant earl. There was no Earl of the North, and Tarthur had never even heard of a lieutenant earl before. They both just made up those titles, but now he was the direct supervisor to Baron Erc
rilla. Not that any of this mattered now, though. Tarthur was unsure of what to do with his life now. He didn’t know where he would live permanently, but he knew that he must at least return to Krendon for a while. And he knew that he wanted to take Yvonne with him. Yet before that, he had some places to stop by.

  * * *

  In the grasslands in the shadow of the hideous fortress of Queen Marhyn, two figures stood silently with their heads bowed. They had been standing through the entire night, neither talking, each lost in his own private thoughts. One was a big man. The other one a little smaller and was missing his right arm. Day broke, and the one handed man nodded to the other one.

  “It is indeed time, my friend,” Yonathan nodded back. Kandan went over and picked up a shovel, and with his good hand began to turn the soil lose and shovel it out of the hole. “It will be hard, you know,” Yonathan trailed off. Nothing like this was ever easy…

  “I know,” Kandan replied. “Yet, this town will live again. If we die trying, this town will live again. As God is my witness, this town will live again!”

  Yonathan stuck a banner in the ground with a grim determination, and spoke aloud. “I hereby declare this the new home of Freeton, the town that like the phoenix will rise from its ashes to create itself anew…”

  * * *

  Tustor was ready to see Tarthur, and the look on his face when Tarthur humbly begged the revered leader of the decimated mermen to become the keeper of the Water Orb and to use it to help rebuild their shattered race was like none other that he had ever seen. Tustor wept huge salty tears of joy, and hugged the Orb and caressed it tightly. Girn came forward—he had been with them all this time, and Tarthur felt a little embarrassed and sorry for his friend. Yet, Girn too had grown through the ordeal. He had lost his stammer, and Tarthur could see he was perfectly happy staying with the mermen. Tarthur offered to take Girn back to Krendon, and Girn thanked him. Girn would return to Krendon often, but he would make his home in the sea for a while at least.