by H. J. Cronin
The mer man stood up and eyed the newcomers. ‘Welcome, landers, to my underwater world, home of the alvarians. This is the city of Falantis and I am Emperor Alantuas.’ He opened up his arms in a show of peace to the newcomers, and the companions noticed his webbed hands and feet. ‘The families of the four dead alvarians have been compensated – you misunderstood their attack, they were not sent to kill you.’
Ardag stepped forward, ‘Our apologies for your loss, but we had to defend ourselves,’ he said with a bow, and then continued. ‘Greetings Emperor Alantuas of the alvarians, we cross your sea in peace. Why did you bring us to your beautiful city?’
Emperor Alantuas laughed. ‘You flatter me with your words, lander. Your journey interests us, that is why,’ he said, sitting back down.
‘What do you know of our journey?’ Ardag asked, choosing his words carefully.
Again the emperor laughed. ‘I know nothing of where you journey to – it is your companion I have an interest in.’
Ardag and Bry looked at Johan, concerned about the possibility that Count Darkool had alerted the alvarians and that they had joined the enemy. Lady Lalo didn’t stir; she just carried on looking at the emperor.
Johan bravely stepped forward but the emperor held up his hand to halt him and began, ‘Not you, lander,’ he said, staring straight into the eyes of Lady Lalo. ‘I have had my dolphin scouts report to me about a small ship carrying a crew of green-skinned creatures. Tell me, Lady Lalo, how have the foul race of elves made their return?’ he asked in a sinister and hostile tone.
Bry gasped and looked at Lady Lalo, ‘He knows you?’ she asked, staring at the elf, who had not continued to gaze levelly at the emperor.
Before Lady Lalo could say anything Emperor Alantuas cut in, ‘Four thousand years ago the elves were not unlike the alvarians, we lived in unison here under the waves of the sea. The gods created us to live forever and be the guardians of this world. Soon the elves became wicked, greedy and cruel. They wanted to explore the land and be the dominant race, so they left our underwater cities and settled on Wilmurin. When the humans came the elves dominated them and turned them into slaves – they beat them, killed them and did unimaginable things to them. We were happy when we discovered that the druids had overthrown and annihilated them. I am sure you can understand my shock at seeing these despicable creatures alive again—’
‘They are no longer the same creatures, emperor!’ Johan interrupted. ‘They saved us, and now they guide us.’
‘You must be under a spell, lander, they are not to be trusted.’
‘I trust Lady Lalo with my life,’ Johan immediately said in response. ‘From what I hear, your race is no better than the old elven race!’
‘Such stories are told to the children of Wilmurin so that they fear the sea – stories handed down from the elves to keep the druids on Wilmurin.’
‘Very well then, but how do you know Lady Lalo?’
‘Lady Lalo is the daughter of Emperor Lemwin, the vilest of their race.’
Johan sucked in a deep breath and looked at Lady Lalo, surprised at the revelation of her family’s past. It was Lady Lalo’s time to speak, ‘My father was an evil man who loved only his family. I spoke out against him and was imprisoned, I did not like the way my people treated the druids. I am ashamed.’ She lowered her head slowly and closed her eyes.
‘I do not fall for your lies, elf. What is your business with these druids?’
‘Our numbers are below twenty, there are too few of us now. We must get these druids to Jotun.’
‘Jotun? Such an arid and cold place, why do you go to Jotun?’ the emperor asked.
‘Business only Johan can authorise to be shared,’ said the elf, looking over her shoulder at Johan.
Johan nodded at her, ‘You may tell Emperor Alantuas, Lady Lalo, it may serve in our favour.’
‘Very well. Darkness has come to Wilmurin,’ she started, ‘far greater than that which my kin brought. Count Darkool has come!’
‘Count Darkool? That vampire lord was destroyed in the Second War of Wilmurin, why should I believe you?’
‘It is true, emperor,’ Bry said, now joining the exchange. ‘He has come and Wilmurin will be laid waste unless we can destroy him. The answer lies in Jotun.’
Emperor Alantuas took a moment to think. When he was ready to speak he stood up once more, ‘Very well, the elves stay here under our watch. You three are free once again to travel to Jotun and fulfil your futile quest, but there is a storm coming on this day so you will stay with us for a week – as our guests, of course.’
‘But the elves have done nothing wrong, emperor,’ Johan pleaded. ‘The elves are a changed race, and we need them! They have helped us through many perils and vowed to join us.’
‘I will entertain no protest, lander. The elves will not be killed, they will be our prisoners for eternity so that they can never return to the land and once again bring death and destruction. They have deceived you and they will carry on deceiving you until they have accomplished whatever sick goal it is they plot.’
‘You are making a big mistake, emperor,’ Johan remarked, shaking his head. He thought for a moment then added, ‘If you keep them here then will you at least aid us? You have obviously been left here undisturbed and your numbers seem vast. Numbers that will help turn the tide on the enemy. I understand your warriors can walk on land – help us defeat Count Darkool.’
The emperor paused for a moment and then shook his head and waved his webbed blue hand. ‘The wars and battles of the landers do not affect us here. For thousands of years we have stayed here and for thousands more we will remain. We will give you food and shelter for a week but after that you are alone.’
Ardag listened to the exchange. He felt a hint of anxiety creep over him, a fear of leaving this place without the elves. As well as this, they needed help from the alvarians; perhaps they would be able to make a difference in this war. ‘Emperor, if I may?’ he asked bowing his head.
‘Go on.’
‘The legions of Count Darkool neither breathe nor eat, they are tireless and bent on turning everything to ash. The bone army of the count will find its way to your cities – once Wilmurin has fallen they will acquire an even vaster army then any of us could imagine. I fear your people will be fighting for their lives sooner rather than later.’
‘Wars have never bothered us, Ardag son of the Eagle,’ the emperor snapped. ‘I will not risk the lives of my people for your fears and doubts. Go now, relax and rest.’
Ardag turned, sighed and walked away with Bry, Johan, and Lady Lalo.
As they started walking Emperor Alantuas called after them. ‘Lady Lalo stays here,’ he said, staring at the green-skinned elf. He turned to one of his guards and whispered something to him. A number of guards immediately surrounded Lady Lalo and led her away. Johan lunged forward to help her, but Ardag pulled him back and shook his head. Johan stared back at him defiantly for a few seconds before calming down.
The door behind them opened and in walked the remaining elves, escorted by a host of guards. As they marched they were composed and silent. All the companions could do was watch.
Ardag turned to Johan and whispered, ‘We must rescue them.’
Johan smiled and whispered back, ‘Funny that, I was just thinking the exact same thing!’
2
Journey South
Bethegar and Parmeus walked through the burnt remnants of a once beautiful forest. They had travelled in their human forms because to use their animal forms for any length of time was too exhausting. In human form they could tread lightly and avoid detection, although if they accidentally stepped on a twig it crunched so loudly it might instantly give away their position to nearby enemies. Since the desolation of Bemon the duo had travelled along the eastern coast, avoiding Fluskany and other minor towns, until they reached Floran Forest. They ate game they had hunted; raw, tough, bloody meat, because it was too risky to start a fire.
By good for
tune they hadn't come across anybody yet. The dark sky with its green glow actually assisted their flight to the south, although it was unpleasant not to be able to see the sun. It would be another three days’ trek before they reached the end of the forest, where they would try to avoid the small town of Floran. Bethegar knew that the town would undoubtedly have been taken over by the enemy by now. They both hoped that the south of Wilmurin was still as beautiful as it once was.
As they continued to walk throughout the day, they found themselves approaching a strange golden obelisk marked with curious green symbols and pictures in the centre of a tiny clearing. It stood three metres tall and the two companions felt a strange aura as they stared at it.
‘What is it?’ asked Parmeus
‘It is the last elven shrine. There was a time when many were built around Wilmurin, in the time of the elves. After their downfall, the kings of the time destroyed them all. They were symbols of the wretched elven gods – this is an elven grove, where they worshipped those gods,’ Bethegar replied
Parmeus paused for a moment, staring at the beautiful obelisk. ‘This is the farthest south I have ever been, King Bethegar. Such things do not remain in the north, I am sure.’
‘No, they don’t,’ Bethegar said, still looking up at the shrine. ‘This one was kept here at the request of the people of the local town, Floran. They see it as a lasting symbol of our victory.’
‘There is little remaining of the elves, isn’t there?’ Parmeus asked with a sigh.
‘Stop!’ Bethegar said holding his hand up.
‘What is it?’ Parmeus asked, anxiously looking around.
'I hear hooves,' Bethegar replied, as the unmistakable sound of approaching horses became even clearer. 'Get down!' Bethegar said as loudly as he dared, bringing Parmeus down with him.
Just to their left Bethegar and Parmeus saw a dozen horsemen on black steeds. It was obvious from their dark red armour and helmets that they were the High Count’s vampire horsemen. They failed to see the druids and slowly trotted past them. Bethegar managed to make out what they were saying.
'High Count Darkool has travelled south to take Lerthayl,' said one of the soldiers.
'I always knew Count Kharki was an incompetent fool,' said the one in the lead.
Another soldier scoffed. 'Just as long as they take the city. For months we have been at war in the south. The north fell in just over a month.'
'The north was taken by surprise, the south has had time to prepare. High Count Darkool will soon be victorious,' said the first vampire.
'Well, what pisses me off,' started the one in the lead, is that we are here hunting this King Bethegar whilst our brethren are down south fighting a war. We’re never going to find the bear.'
'High Count Darkool wants his head, so we will give it to him,' the first man responded. With that the vampire horsemen moved on towards the north, oblivious that their prey was only a few feet away.
'That was too close,' Parmeus whispered to Bethegar as the riders wandered off.
'We must move with haste, Parmeus,' Bethegar said as he stood up, and then led the way.
They made their way through the forest for the rest of the day and into the next, avoiding another three patrols. The pair were vigilant because it seemed to them that High Count Darkool had troops everywhere. When they drew close to the edge of the burned out forest they both picked up pace and ran for the opening.
Bethegar suddenly felt the whiz of air pass his face as an arrow flew past and hit a tree with a thud. Another arrow flew past and then another. He realised he’d been unaware of an enemy patrol only two dozen metres behind them.
Bethegar knew they had to stand their ground. Whilst running he called out to Parmeus who was running behind him, 'Parmeus, change!' With that Bethegar spun around, taking on his large black bear form; Parmeus followed suit and took on his black panther form.
The two immense animals stared at the approaching attackers who were no longer firing arrows at them. There were five of them, mounted on black steeds and clad in dark red armour. They all wielded swords and, as one, charged towards the druids. Bethegar was the first to react and let out an almighty roar. He leapt forward and Parmeus followed.
The horses were not afraid of the ferocious animals; they were accustomed to dreadful creatures. As he approached one of the horsemen, Bethegar soared into the air, so high that he flew above the horseman; using his powerful claws he removed the rider from the saddle with ease and landed on top of him. Effortlessly he mauled the helpless vampire.
Parmeus picked his foe and charged the horseman. The vampire swung his sword down at the approaching panther, missing it by a few inches. Parmeus carved a deep gash into the side of the horse with his long, razor-sharp claws, bringing it and its rider down to the ground with a screech. With one clean swipe he cut through the throat of the vampire, destroying it forever.
The three remaining horsemen regrouped and faced the shape shifters. The two druids simultaneously growled at the horsemen and the opposing sides charged at each other. Two of the horsemen broke off to confront Bethegar, bringing their swords down as he came close. Bethegar avoided one of the swords but the other one gashed his shoulder; he felt the warm blood amongst his fur but was unmoved by it. He turned and faced the horsemen as they prepared for a second charge. Within moments they were again kicking up dirt as they raced towards him. Bethegar didn’t charge, but waited for them to approach. Once they were close enough, Bethegar spun around and with his powerful paw hit the horse on the right side with all his strength. The animal hit the other horse with such force that both horses fell down. Horses and riders were in a heap as Bethegar approached; the two riders managed to stand in time to confront the big black bear but their attempted attack was futile as Bethegar destroyed them with his ferocious claws.
The last rider saw what had happened to his comrades and fled, but his mount was not nearly as fast as the black panther. Parmeus pounced onto the back of the fleeing rider and brought him down to the ground; with his powerful jaw he tore the rider’s head from his body.
The druids returned to their human forms and an exhausted Parmeus fell to the ground. Bethegar checked the wound on his own shoulder and the blood had stopped flowing. Parmeus looked up and smiled at him. ‘Nasty looking wound, Bethegar,’ he said sarcastically.
‘It’s just a cut, little panther,’ Bethegar replied and Parmeus laughed.
‘We should carry on, the forest edge is close,’ Parmeus said, pointing towards the opening.
‘You’re right. That won’t be the last patrol in this area,’ Bethegar said, and helped Parmeus up onto his feet.
The duo carried on their journey as the wind blew the vampire dust away.
They left Floran Forest and narrowly skirted around the town. The grass was black and lifeless because it had not seen the sun for some time. The companions travelled over the next two days and set up camp by a small cluster of rocks. The night was quiet, there was no noise from nocturnal animals, no breeze from the wind, and the haunting green glow from the sky made it hard to sleep. The days were dark but the nights darker, and still with no fire they were cold but hidden.
It was Bethegar’s turn to be on watch; he sat upon a small rock and looked out over the land in front of him for any signs of enemy patrols. It was futile exercise for it was too dark to make anything out; even the green glow didn’t help him. He felt a twinge of pain in his shoulder from the cut; he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it. The blood stained the tunic he wore, forming a red patch on his shoulder. He didn’t have the resources to treat it.
Bethegar all of a sudden felt as if he was being watched; he stood up and gently woke Parmeus from his slumber. The pair silently looked around to see if anybody was there, but could see no one. Then they heard a cough from behind, and the two druids spun around to see a face staring at them from behind one of the rocks.
‘Come out slowly,’ Bethegar said, and Parmeus looked on anxiously.
&
nbsp; The figure stepped out from behind the rock and the druids could make out the body of a woman. She was of a medium height, her hair and eye colour obscured by darkness.
The lady put a finger to her lips and then spoke in a whisper, ‘Follow me, they are nearby.’
‘Why should we trust her?’ Parmeus asked Bethegar.
‘We can’t,’ he replied. He carried on looking at the lady and then asked, ‘Who are you? How do we know you are not leading us into a trap?’
‘If you want to stay here then do so. I offer you shelter and food, now come,’ she responded, turning around and starting to walk.
Parmeus and Bethegar shot each other curious glances. ‘Come Parmeus, but be on your guard,’ Bethegar finally said and they followed the lady.
After walking for about a quarter of an hour they arrived at a small hut. The glow from the windows gave the hut a homely impression, and the scent of freshly cooked bread could be detected from the outside, making Bethegar’s mouth water. The woman held the door open for them and they both entered the small, comfortable-looking space. The room was warm from the fire that glowed in the corner; it was quite large and, in the centre, was a wooden dining table at which sat four boys. In the corner of the room in front of the fire there was a seating area. There were closed doors which Bethegar assumed led to bedrooms.
Bethegar and Parmeus could now see that the lady was in the latter half of her life, her hair dark and her eyes blue. Her eldest son could not be much older than sixteen and the youngest, about ten. They all stared at the strangers curiously. ‘These are my sons Eli, Phal, Erik and Jen,’ the lady said. ‘I am Sara, and my husband died in the defence of Flordonium. What brings you here, Bethegar of the Clan of the Bear?’