"Tea anyone?" asked Bourne. Strom nodded and Beneth continued to merely squint at him. "I know it is early but I thought we should put our heads together about anything we might have gleaned from last night before the others awaken. What say you two?"
Strom immediately opined, "Our Bard and, of course, Leena raise no objects with me. However, Durrock Deepheart certainly did peak my attention. I do not know whether to trust him or not now. He is almost too boastful to be taken seriously and that unnerves me somehow."
Beneth nodded and said, "Yes, his outbursts were disturbing but, for a drunken Dwarf, he was quite tame I thought. I still wonder if taking him is such a good idea. You know that the Dark Lord's minions have heard about our plans by now."
"And if they know, everyone else knows, too. Yes, I understand that," interjected Bourne. "I do not know if Avet or any of his minions care much about my actions but if they think I am a turncoat, any one of them might kill me just for sport.
"But, we cannot fight a cavern full of priests by ourselves much less find an overlooked passage into the temple to begin with. We need his and Leena's help." The three continued to converse and even argue about what they each heard and saw the night before. Finally, they decided to have Durrock along with the rest of the party but to be mindful of his actions.
Bourne then said Strom, "My good Thief, I purpose that you carry the Wereguard Mace stone while on our quest as you can certainly hide it more apply that I. I would feel it to be more secure out of my own hands."
Strom inhaled deeply as he sat up straight and frowned. The thought of the gem's curse sifted through his hung over mind. "Very well, but I thought you were to have given that to Druces already. Funny, I somehow forgot about the stone... very odd."
"Part of the curse I imagine. How else could something like that have been forgotten in the first place?" said Beneth. "Still, Bourne, the Lady was insistent about having you give it to her before Tantalous was dealt with."
"Yes, well, consider my giving it to her if we survive my counter-offer," replied Bourne dryly.
Just then, Durrock came striding into the kitchen. He seemed rather cheery and no evidence of overindulging was present on him. "I smelled tea so I was hoping someone was up," he said as he poured himself a mug of the strong brew Bourne had made. He leaned back on a counter and said, "I must thank you for a splendid evening, my friends. I just hope I was not too oppressively drunk or mouthy. Mushroom ale, sweet nectar that it is, can sometimes work my mouth for me, if you get my meaning." The three companions of old merely looked at him and smiled. Yes, they had better keep an eye on him.
The next few days would consist of a journey and final preparations for an onslaught. Time enough, though Bourne, to consider how to counter anything Durrock and any of his companions might have in store for him.
A few days later they were packed and ready to begin their journey to the Spider god's lair. They road to the far west border of Wencelington by the river's edge to what had once been an elaborate river dock but was now only a series of old warehouses. The river's traffic still produced a good living for some but most of the vessels that traversed the waters were headed for larger towns far away. Passage for the party on what was little more than a large, covered raft had already been procured by Lena. The horses and equipment made the journey on a smaller separate raft which Strom kept a close eye on much to the chagrin of the boatmen that owned and piloted the rafts.
During the ride down the river, Durrock kept very much to himself and only occasionally consulted with Tassif about popularizing other Dwarven operas. Still, during the rest of the journey, Bourne thought that Durrock stayed rather close by him. It might have been his imagination, he told himself.
After two full days' travel northward, the boat stopped at a small ramp in the middle of a forest many leagues from anything that could realistically be called a town. The party left the boat men with some extra gold and strict instructions to tell no one where they had been deposited. Beneth found that his glaring at the uninitiated during such negotiations usually sealed the deal rather quickly. Humans never seemed to enjoy being stared down by an Elfish mage that appeared to have a mean streak and wild eyes.
Finally, when the group was encamped for the night after a day's ride away from the river, Bourne asked Durrock, "You said you were friends with Avet, is that so?"
"Not really friends. Men like that do not really have friends as you know them, but I worked for him years ago."
"Nonetheless, what do you think his opinion would be of me trying to work to free myself from a terrible and unjust wrath?"
Durrock locked his eyes to Bourne's and replied, "I do not think he would approve. I took this job because of a sense of honor for my Order and the promise of gold. You took it to avoid conflict with the Dark Lord's minions. Avet would think you a coward, my friend. I do not, of course, but then again, I am not totally single minded as he is."
Bourne nodded and said, "I suppose not. Did you know that I tried to join his cause a year or so ago? His lieutenant, Gallford, would not have me."
"Avet's cause is for people with a strong desire to rid creation of Devils, not to help people running from them. I would imagine that Gallford, buffoon that he is, suspected you were looking to him for protection. You do not come across as someone desirous of being a foot soldier in a grand cause, if I may say so," Durrock opined.
Bourne only replied, "Perhaps not but I do not turn my back on the needy and call myself a savior either. Anyway, as long as I am to be done with the Dark Lord, I will be done with Avet and his people as well."
Durrock shrugged and said, "I think you have little to fear from Gallford. I imagine you could hold you own against him by now and Avet has little interest in people not wholly committed to him." Bourne took those words to heart but found little more trust in the Dwarf. He did not like to admit it, but he felt sure that there was more to Durrock's part in this quest than just the killing of Tantalous. He would have liked to ask Durrock what he thought about giving the Wereguard Mace stone do Druces, but did not want to give away any information that the Ranger might not already have. He decided, for the moment, to leave things as they were and to stay vigilant. Maybe having Durrock in his midst might actually prevent Avet from sending an assassin for him. Bourne would just have to wait and see what was to unfold.
The party reached a large river the next day. The river feeding it was smaller and faster flowing but the path they were to follow lay beside it. "Two days ride will bring us to the watchtower overlooking the main tributary to the Hardoak river," Bourne said as they began to head up a gentle slope.
They made good progress upstream that day and rode into the late dusk. The next day put them within two leagues of the abandoned watchtower but a run in with a few Bugbears earlier that day made them rethink continuing on into the night. Beneth managed to scare off the creatures with pyrotechnics so little real action took place, but since the territory was not well known to them, they decided to be cautious and take their time. The deep woods was no place to get lost.
Durrock kept a good sized tent in the Bag of Holding that he had brought with him. Being a Ranger, he preferred to sleep under the open sky but he still liked to have a dark corner to meditate in. The Dwarven goddess he prayed to for strength and divine spells preferred her subjects to do so from cave-like surroundings. But, the Holding Bag allowed him to carry very large and heavy objects as if they were near weightless so having a tent along was no inconvenience to him. Being little more than an opening to a tract of inter-planer space, the small bag seemed to house a huge room inside its small outer walls. Leena also had such a Holding Bag as well, but it was a bit bulkier on the outside though it held the same dimensions on the inside. In it, she kept the provisions for the horses, a stash of arrows, an extra suit of maille, three shields, and enough water to last the party for a week.
That night, Strom told her, "Do not forget to empty your provisions from the bag before we entry the god's lai
r. We will need the storage for the gold and other treasures we will be picking up from the treasury therein." She only nodded at him for this was not the first time he had brought up the subject.
Beneth had been sitting cross legged in front of their small fire but he roused himself from deep thought and said, "Yes, we will have to put as much of our treasure and possessions in it as we can if I am to teleport us from the lair back to Wencelington. I can only accommodate so much weight in that process; about twenty-eight stone I would imagine which still leaves us with the problem of retreat. That will be at most three people. What have you decided on that account, Bourne?"
"Some of us will have to climb out of the lair back the way we entered it. We have discussed this. As long as the anti-poison potions hold up their end, we should have little trouble with our escape. Also, if you teleport the most wounded of us to the Clerics' Temple, all the better."
Beneth looked puzzled and replied, "The Clerics' Temple in Wencelington? I thought you distrusted all of those in the service of the gods. We have spent a fortune on healing potions for a year now!"
Bourne shrugged. "They were either unwilling or too expensive to help us when I had a price on my head. But, now that the wrath is to be lifted, I supposed we will be on even ground with them again. At any rate, my prejudices of old have begun to tire me," he said casually.
"Good man," said Durrock loudly, "Time for some new prejudices!" And, with that, he let out of long, soft chuckle. "Do not worry with our escape. As long as we can get back to the supply room that we will spill out into, I will make sure whomever is alive can climb back out into the unoccupied caverns. The only place this god's treasury can be is directly behind his throne room and that should be right behind the hallways leading to the storerooms. If the Elf here can wall out most of the Clerics as we planned, that should be no problem. If we cannot even do that, we need not even go into the lair to begin with."
Strom broke the following silence by saying, "True enough. Just remember to empty out your Bag of Holding as well. It would cause me great physical pain to leave anything of value behind!" Everyone but Beneth gave a chuckle. It appears that the Magister was rather too involved in his meditations to really be listening.
The watchtower was a very old stone building that might have been the corner of a castle at one time. A small wooden room had been built around its base but it was left open for all to enter. A staircase wound along the inside of the tower to an open deck some fifty foot spans above the ground. From its top, one held a commanding view of the river for a league or more in either direction and many leagues to the southern downhill expanse the tower was perched on. The forest that surrounded it was made up of primarily broad, squat trees no more than thirty foot spans tall. Still, there were enough taller trees to obscure the tower's view in some directions.
"The tower has no name that I know of but I have stayed the night in it once before many years ago. The tower has but one doorway to its stairs that is easily blocked or magically walled shut," Beneth informed the party. "I have always assumed that it was not the tallest tower in whatever larger structure it was once a part of. My great, great uncle once mentioned the stronghold of Mat 'e Celm that used to be in this part of the world, but I am sure that he has not been back here for thirteen centuries or more."
The party decided to spend the rest of the day preparing for their attack on the cave lair. They would break camp at first light which would put them at the mouth of the caverns by mid morning. After securing their horses they would have to make their way through the cavern's crevices, which Durrock said would not take more than an hour, enter the demi-god's lair, have Beneth and Leena (who would be wielding a Spell Storing Ring) cast some spells to seal the bulk of the Clerics out of the main chambers, deal with any miscellaneous Clerics, then kill the Spider god. Whoever was left standing would loot the treasury room then make haste back to the crevices to make their way out to where the horses stood. The injured would be teleported out by Beneth. The plan was simple yet hardly foolproof and the party all knew that is relied rather too heavily on Beneth's survival. Strom and Leena took the task of guarding him personally.
The night before the eminent battle passed slowly for all in the company. They had seen a few Clerics walking the high roads to the lair's western entrance and had avoided being seen by them. Still, one does not gleefully engage in battle with an untested foe whose powers are the subject of rumor only. A spider demon from the Abyss would be none too difficult to dispatch. A demi-god would be quite another matter possibly. Uncertainty can either rob any moment of its joy or enrich it. When facing death, there is little joy in the moment to begin with.
Chapter 7 - Our Lair of Darkness
Tantalous wandered the treasure room of its great hall. There were still so many wonderful sensations it felt in the presence of gold and jewels. Each bauble felt like a promise of servitude and sin. Any man would betray all that he loved for enough gold. This truth had become apparent to Tantalous only after hundreds of years of living at the bottom of the dark, stinking Abyss serving cruel masters and the very vile. But, with that realization, its life had changed forever. Godhood and all that it entailed could be bought for the mere promise of power which is all gold really is.
Now, it had a fine lair, an ever filling treasure room, and thousands of followers. Ah, that was what the success of the gods was really all about; living in the minds of its followers. Magicians could user their minds and spirits to perform impressive feats of power but that could, in no way, compare to what the power of a thousand minds bent to one master could do.
Tantalous stretched forth its mind and felt all its Clerics that were meditating. Channeling their mental energies allowed him to bestow miraculous powers to them. They had but to desire it and focus in pure servitude and spells would be theirs for the using. "Ah, such pure power; such wonderful minds," it thought as its spirit crept through its servants'. The Clerics worshipped it him. Yes, he had decided to be a male god. And, soon, with perhaps another five hundred or a thousand Clerics' energies, he would be able to bestow the power to raise the dead to a select few of them. With that power he could make a play to win over the TwinCities and then Norec proper. Within perhaps ten years, this whole country would be his and then, he could leave this plane and make his ascent into the Heavens where he belonged.
"What was that!!" Something had jarred him back to his own mind. Some of his Clerics had been waylaid! Others had been cast behind barriers! He must arouse all of his people and send them to action! "Intruders!" he thought aloud. "Awaken, my guards! Rend the evil doers' flesh! Rip their bones but leave one alive for me!"
The party had entered the far side of the caves at dawn and rappelled down into the mountain's crags easily enough. The storeroom they dropped into was near the main hall of the lair but still in a dark corner of the caverns so they were allowed some noise upon entering it. From there, they had crept into the dark, rough hewn hallways and Beneth cast the first few of his wall spells in the main tunnels before an alarm was sounded. When a few stunned Clerics saw them and began shouting, everyone in the party had to scramble to chase the black robed fools away from the main hall and into narrow tunnels to be sealed off. Before the last of the walls could be erected, a band of a dozen or so Clerics assailed the party and the slaughter began. The young men and women were no match for seasoned fighters with enchanted weapons and they were made to flee quickly while more walls of stone or iron were put summoned in to place.
Venpuezo was awoken from his sleep. He liked to sleep late in the mornings and it could not have even been midmorning yet, but Tantalous was in need. In his mind, the god screamed for him and his head ached at feeling it.
"Boy!" he yelled to his Page who was also now awake and hurrying to get the equipment of the Champion of his god prepared; armor, shield, and that horrible, horrible sword of his.
Bourne peered around the corner into the sleeping chamber. The Cleric he had just accosted had said that
the Champion's quarters were at the end of this hallway. He had heard the clanking of armor being applied and the voice of someone who might have been an Easterner giving orders and so he crept along the passage and peered into the Champion's room.
There he was, all but ready for battle. And, there it was; the Sword of Nine Lives Stealing. It certainly looked evil with its black blade, a wide, over-stylized crosspiece, and menacing runes carved into it. He wondered if these types of evil swords had to have such a look in order to be functional or whether the entities that forged them just thought that look appropriate for such a weapon. "No matter," he thought. "A sword is only as good as its wielder."
Venpuezo had just put on his last knee cop and dismissed his Page when he saw a large man appear from around the corner and slam the flat of his sword onto the Page's head. "He is just unconscious for now," the man said with a faint smile on his lips. The man hoisted his shield in front of him and was wielding a large hand-and-a-half sword. Venpuezo knew his long sword would be faster than the intruder's heavier blade but he would have to do without his shield which was in an outer room. Then, the man said, "Shall we get this over with? My comrades are making their preparations and then I have a demon to slay." And, with that, the fight was on.
Venpuezo's quarters were large and well furnished. He even had a reception area and small thrown of sorts at the other end of the room. But, for two well built men, the area was not an overly generous place for sword fighting. Bourne advanced quickly and made several powerful, well placed blows at Venpuezo. He outweighed and overshadowed the Easterner by a small margin, but that gave Bourne no confidence as he knew small men could be quicker and just as vicious as a larger man. So, when his blows were countered by Venpuezo, he was not surprised. He was, however, irritated when the Easterner's sword clove through his right shoulder piece after a rather brilliant parry. The armor absorbed much of the strike and the black blade only grazed his flesh. Still, Bourne had hoped to draw first blood. Also, that blade caressing his skin made his spine tingle.
Tales of Fantasy, Fables, and Fiction Page 19