The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 03 - Glimmer in the Shadow

by Jason McWhirter

  Seven

  Ullis Hill

  Jonas and the rest of the group rode hard all morning. They stopped once to rest the horses and refresh themselves with some water, dried beef, and cheese. During the few times when they slowed to a trot to rest the horses, the group talked softly but sporadically, since everyone was so tense about their mission, where there were so many unknowns. Not knowing what to expect hampered the smooth flow of casual dialogue over their anxious tongues. Fil and Jonas, riding in the rear, managed to converse fairly regularly.

  “So Jonas, how are you feeling?” Fil asked nonchalantly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, about this new role of yours. I imagine you’re a bit apprehensive and all going into this fight with the meager weapons that we all possess,” Fil said jokingly, “or am I guessing correctly that Shyann has given you some blessings in disguise?” Fil asked as he eyed the plain looking swords hanging from Jonas’s waist.

  Jonas had to look at Fil to make sure he was joking. “Meager weapons? Oh no, my friend, they just look that way,” he said, tapping the hilt of one of his swords. The black pommel did look plain, and it certainly lacked the cavalier luster of his previous weapons and armor.

  Fil raised his eyebrows in interest, urging Jonas to continue.

  “The weapons are magical,” Jonas continued. “Everything is actually, even my boots. I’m just not sure how it all works yet.”

  “Figures,” Fil said. “Don’t you ever wonder why the gods just don’t explain things? I mean, why make everything so secretive? I don’t get it, reason number nineteen for my lack of allegiance.”

  “What are the other eighteen?” Jonas asked.

  “You really want to know?”

  Jonas laughed. “No, not really.”

  Allindrian had slowed her horse and moved next to the two young men. She smiled at Jonas as she positioned her horse near his. They had only talked briefly since Jonas had been rescued from the grips of the Forsworn. Everyone had been so occupied, and Jonas had needed a lot of rest from his ordeal. Early that morning they did have an opportunity to spar and afterward to talk briefly about what Shyann had asked of him, and of his new role in her name. But they had not had a chance to delve into much detail.

  “So shadow warrior, what do you know of these weapons, besides the enhanced speed of the boots and gloves?”

  “I can make the edge of the blades light up at will, and I think Shyann’s symbol on the breast plate will shed light when I wish, or maybe when evil is near, but I have not yet tested that theory,” Jonas said.

  “Enhanced speed? What symbol?” Fil asked, staring at the plain charcoal gray metal plate that covered Jonas's chest and most of his stomach. The rest of the cuirass was black hardened leather and dark chainmail, all lacking fancy symbols or intricate designs that you might see on expensive armor.

  “I think that is the point,” Allindrian said. “To blend in and look normal. But when the time comes he can show his true power.”

  “I see. I guess that makes sense,” Fil said thoughtfully.

  “Jonas,” Allindrian continued, “I think the magical properties of your clothes are similar to my ranger cloak.”

  “How so?” Jonas asked.

  “I think they may help you blend into the shadows or surroundings. And your boots and gloves, along with their enhanced speed, may help with silent movement, or maybe even climbing.”

  “How do you know this?” Jonas asked.

  “I don’t. But that is what I would create for you if I were Shyann,” she said smiling.

  Jonas looked at his clothes and held his plain gloved hand to his face. “Makes sense,” he said. “I guess I will find out. And I hope you're right.”

  They rode silently for a while before Jonas spoke again. “What do you plan to do after all this?” he asked Allindrian. “I mean, if we survive.”

  Allindrian looked at the young warrior. He was getting older she thought. He looked older for sure; no doubt the trials and ordeals he had been through had definitely matured him. He was certainly no longer the same young man that she had met five years ago. The five years of training, combat, and numerous trials, had molded him into a man, someone who had seen and experienced more in the last few years than most do in a lifetime, someone who had gained not only incredible physical skills, but also an immense emotional strength. She liked that about Jonas. He was so strong, so powerful, and yet so humble, and…what was the word…insecure. That wasn't really the word she was looking for, but it fit in a way. He questioned everything, always wondering if he could have done something better, or different, to create a better outcome.

  “I will go back to my home. I will visit my king and queen. It has been a long time,” she said as she thought about returning to her homeland.

  “What’s it like there?” Jonas asked.

  Allindrian smiled broadly. “Very different. It’s beautiful, the most amazing place you have ever seen. The forests are lush and green with trees much bigger than here. Everything we build is a part of our surroundings, unlike here where you destroy the land so that you may live. Things are much…slower…my people talk much less.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Elves live a long time, Jonas. There is no hurry. Silence is preferable to the random chatter often associated with humans. We do not feel the need to rush anything, whether it be the crafting of a sword or the dialogue between lovers. In a lifespan longer than multiple human lifetimes, there is no need for haste and things are worth doing well. You might find my home rather quiet and boring,” she said.

  “It actually sounds nice.” Jonas turned and looked directly at Allindrian. “How long will you live, Allindrian?” he asked bluntly.

  She locked eyes briefly with him before looking away. “My human blood speeds up the aging process somewhat, but I could live as long as five or six human lifetimes. But the life of a Blade Singer is dangerous, and I can die by an arrow or sword just as easy as you.”

  They heard a commotion ahead as King Baylin prodded his horse into a run, signaling for the group to move out. The rest of the group followed, urging their horses to a gallop as they fell in behind the king.

  “Guess our break is over,” Jonas said with a smile. Allindrian smiled back, and they raced after the rapidly departing group.

  It became obvious when they neared their destination. Dark clouds had moved in and their surroundings took on an ominous look. Up ahead a low lying fog covered most of the ground, and everything about it seemed to say do not enter.

  Lor-telliam pulled his horse to a stop and motioned for everyone to dismount. There were a number of stubby oak trees in the vicinity and they would make good spots to tether their animals. “I think we should walk from here. We are close. I can feel the magic, and that mist up ahead is the border,” Lor-telliam announced as he dismounted.

  Suddenly the horses whinnied, dancing and stomping on the ground nervously as they pulled on their reins. Kromm, who had already tethered his horse, drew his blade. Lor-telliam stood next to him gripping his wooden staff in both hands. The tip of the staff was carved into three leaves surrounding an oblong stone which began to emanate a bluish glow. He wore a slender sword at his side paired with a hunting dagger.

  Then they all heard it, a deep rumbling growl coming from some shrubs ahead of them. The group froze, quickly unsheathing their weapons, their eyes intently searching the shrubbery ahead. They gripped their weapons tight as they looked tensely into the mist shrouded shrubs. Then they heard it again, this time much closer.

  That's when Jonas felt something probing his consciousness, and the word friend echoed in his mind. The connection was subtle but familiar. He couldn’t explain it, but he had felt this mental touch before. Then it came to him. It was Tulari. “Wait!” Jonas yelled as he sheathed his blade, “Put your weapons away!”

  They looked at him with surprise. “Why do you say this, Jonas?” Lor-telliam asked.

  “Whatever is
out there is here for me. I can hear its mind, a familiar voice that I’ve heard before,” Jonas said trying to explain the connection.

  “Tulari?” Fil asked.

  “Yes.”

  “She, or he, whatever it is sounds much different,” Fil said with his eyes raised. “A bit more aggressive if you know what I mean.” But he slowly sheathed his blade and the others followed suit, though not without some apprehension.

  Just then a giant wolf-like creature emerged from the mist ten paces ahead. A thick coat of mottled gray and black fur covered its massive frame. Its shoulders were as high as their own, and the eyes in its large canine head glowed blue in the shadows. It opened its mouth, revealing teeth as long as daggers, as a low rumble escaped from its powerful lungs. Then its piercing eyes swept over the group before landing on Jonas.

  “What is that? Jonas, you sure about this?” Fil asked, his hand still resting on the hilt of his blade.

  “It be a night wolf,” Cade said, “a distant cousin of the dire wolf. They are rare, almost extinct, and they don’t hunt in packs like their cousins,” the Dakeen warrior explained. He had already re-slung his battle axe on his back and he casually stood before the beast with his arms crossed over his muscled chest. “We have seen a few in de mountains back home. If he meant us harm, then he would’ve attacked us silently, from the shadows. We are safe.”

  “She would have,” Jonas corrected. “Tulari is now female.” Jonas wasn’t sure how he knew it, but somehow he could sense that the wolf before him was indeed female.

  “Who be this, Tulari?” Cade asked.

  “It is, or was, my cavalier steed.”

  At the mention of her name, the night wolf casually trotted over to Jonas and sat down on her haunches in front of him. Jonas could not believe how big she was. As large as a horse, her head alone was the size of his torso, with paws as wide as two human hands. Jonas could see the sharp tips of long black claws emerge from the thick pads. Tulari opened her mouth panting, letting her long pink tongue hang out. She could have easily clamped those jaws around his entire torso as if he were no more than a bone to chew on. Instead, she leaned forward to nuzzle his body, almost knocking him over with her powerful strength. He felt the wolf nudge his mind again, yes, Tulari, she said, affirming what Jonas had said.

  Jonas reached around and rubbed the thick fur around her neck. He could feel powerful muscle underneath and a deep low rumble reverberated through his hand. She was purring like a kitten. Jonas smiled and scratched behind her ears. “I’ve missed you, my friend.”

  “It is said they can hear and smell prey miles away, and that they are called night wolves because they are like shadows. You will not hear or see them, until it’s too late,” Tolvar said.

  “There is magic around her,” Lor-telliam added.

  Tolvar grunted agreement. “There be mystery around these beasts. Some say they can shift form. Others say they have power in their eyes, that if you look into them too long you will be lost. Their pelts are worth a fortune.”

  Tulari swung her head toward the Dakeen warrior and barred her teeth, with a look so menacing that even Jonas stepped back from her.

  Tolvar just laughed with is arms still crossed before him. “Do not fret, night beast. I’m allergic to fur.”

  Cade, Tolvar’s brother, chuckled under his breath and nudged Tolvar with his elbow. That was the first time that Jonas realized that dwarves had a sense of humor. Even Tulari recognized it for she stopped growling and stood passively next to Jonas as if she were waiting for orders.

  “Welcome back, Tulari,” Allindrian said as she slowly stepped toward the night wolf and put her hand out. Tulari leaned forward and sniffed her hand. Then she licked it, allowing Allindrian to come close and pet her huge head. “A fitting companion for a shadow knight,” Allindrian noted.

  “Let us go while we still have light,” Lor-telliam suggested. Everyone prepared themselves, tethering their horses and securing their weapons. They stayed close to each other as they moved up the gentle hill towards the mist that lay ominously across the grassy terrain. Tulari flanked Jonas, drifting in and out of the shadows. As they came to the top of the hill they looked down upon a completely different landscape, a dark foreboding place with thick fog swirling on the ground and dark clouds hovering above. Black swampy water bubbled up through the patchy grass, permeating the air with the smell of rotting vegetation. “Ullis Hill is two miles through this,” Lor-telliam said. “Stay close and be vigilant.”

  “In Ulren’s name what has the power to do this?” Fil asked.

  “The Shan Cemar,” was all the Ekahal said before he led them forward.

  They moved slowly after Lor-telliam, hands grasping pommels, their eyes intensely scanning the area. Occasionally Jonas would see a shape looming in the mist that seemed to resemble some sinister creature only to have it turn out to be the silhouette of a tree. Everyone was nervous and jumpy, and Jonas felt his palms and forehead begin to sweat. They had advanced maybe several hundred yards when Jonas heard Tulari growl nearby, though he couldn’t see her. In the same instant he noticed that the center plate of his armor began to glow brightly with an intense blue light, illuminating Shyann’s tree. The fiery blue beacon alerted the rest of the party and the sound of blades being drawn from scabbards filled the air.

  “A warning” Allindrian said as she nocked an arrow to her bow.

  “I think so,” Jonas responded. But he didn’t like the light glowing in the darkness, silhouetting his body in blue, making him and the group a target for any nearby enemies. So he wished it away, and it disappeared in a flash.

  Just then Tulari whispered in his mind…trolls!

  “Trolls!” Jonas yelled.

  “Run! Follow me! If we keep moving then they can’t surround us!” Lor-telliam shouted as he led the group farther into the darkness. “Protect the king; if he dies we can’t retrieve the sword!”

  The trolls were upon them almost immediately. Out of the darkness they came, bringing with them an overwhelming odor of decay that surrounded them like a hoard of buzzing flies. Taller than Kromm they were, with long arms and legs. The fingers and toes of their claw-like hands and feet extended into nasty black talons, hooked and razor sharp. Sparse tufts of matted hair covered their monstrous heads. Broad bulging noses and large thick lipped mouths filled with rotting teeth dominated their facial features. Their thick skin resembled that of a diseased toad, bile green and covered with sores and warty growths. Jonas thought they were the ugliest, most disgusting things he had ever seen. And they were fast.

  One leaped from the darkness at Jonas and he was so surprised by its speed that he barely avoided it. If it hadn’t been for Cade he may not have. As Jonas ducked and tried to spin away from the creature, Cade swung his massive double bladed axe in a vicious arc, slicing deeply into its thigh, causing it to stumble and just miss Jonas.

  Both of Jonas’s blades erupted in blue flame as he launched himself toward the distracted troll, ramming both swords through its back, their flames flaring even brighter as the troll screamed in pain and fear, yanking itself off the vicious blades and stumbling into the mist.

  More trolls came at them from the shadowing mist, forcing them to stop and form up. “They will regenerate if not cut by magical means!” Tolvar yelled as he sliced off the leg of an attacking troll. Cade was there to cleave its skull in half.

  Jonas noticed that both of the dwarves' weapons glowed with an iridescent light. Fil, he thought, suddenly worried. His sword was not magical. He looked ahead for him and was almost blinded by fiery red flames shooting from the hands of Lor-telliam, flames that quickly and completely consumed four attacking trolls. Several others howled in fear and jumped back into the protection of the mist. They were afraid of fire.

  Fil, meanwhile, brought his shield up to block the wicked punch of an attacking troll. Nearly as strong as an ogre, the force of its strike sent Fil stumbling backwards, his arm throbbing in pain. But he had no time to recover as
the beast's long arms shot out with lightning speed, grabbing both edges of the shield, and yanking hard to the side. Fil flew into the air and landed several paces away in a puddle of black water. He was frantically trying to get up when he felt an immense pressure on the back of his neck, then suddenly he felt weightless. The troll had lifted him into the air and spun him around to face him, its grip on his neck like an iron vise. He knew with certainty that in a split second the beast could snap his neck like a twig. He had dropped his sword, but had instinctively drawn his knife, slicing the blade across the troll’s wrist. The beast paused momentarily, but Fil was horrified to see that the wound had miraculously closed and the troll responded with a wicked grin. Time seemed to slow as Fil saw his death before him. In a surreal daze he stared into the beast's open jaws. He knew he could do nothing to prevent those deadly teeth from tearing into him. Even in his stupor he could smell the creature's fetid breath and he gagged and screamed in revulsion, bringing his hand up to his face in a futile attempt to protect himself.

  Just then he heard a loud roar and found himself flying through the air again. This time he landed on his back and quickly righted himself, relieved beyond measure to see Tulari on top of the beast, the long black talons of her powerful hind legs raking into its abdomen, completely disemboweling it. Tulari then clamped her powerful jaws on the troll's head, and with a mighty jerk of her neck, tore off its head as if it were a plum being plucked from a tree.

  Meanwhile, Kromm and Allindrian were fighting side by side as they had done deep in the catacombs of Cuthaine. As he blocked their powerful fists with his shield, he swung his giant blade left and right, cutting down troll after troll. The sound of their fists striking Kromm’s shield resembled the cadence of a war drum, with each beat marking another casualty of his blade. Allindrian had dropped her bow and the reassuring song of her sword sang death to any who came near. Her silver blade whistled through the dense mist, weaving and slicing into arms and legs. They came at her with foot and claw, but it was like trying to snatch a fly from the air as she eluded every attack.