The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2)

by Jerry Autieri

  "Why are we too late?" Lethos asked at length. "You have not said."

  "According to your story, they had carried a large piece of wild stone aboard their ark. They also targeted Norddalr, which was one of their traditional homes."

  "Impossible," Valda said. "It was my father's stronghold."

  Syrus shook his head. "Norddalr, Tsaldalr, and Raffheim are all named as Tsal strongholds in these texts. The names have come down in different forms, but the maps are clear. In any case, they took Norddalr first for its towers are higher than Raffheim's. They have set a beacon for their king, who can see this through the mists. This is what the Order feared the most. Once the beacon is lit, the king will follow it with his people."

  "Then we must destroy the beacon," Valda said simply. "How is it done?"

  "I do not know. The book does not indicate, or it is beyond my ability to understand it. In any case, we would have to go to Norddalr, and if the wild stone is used, then neither Grimwold nor Lethos can approach it."

  "Can't it just be kicked apart?" Lethos asked, knowing the simple solution never worked.

  Syrus shook his head. "I don't know. It is connected to the captain of the white ark that carried the stone."

  Lethos looked at Valda, and he voiced what both knew. "Avulash must be killed before we can destroy the beacon. And we can't get anywhere near him."

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The journey by boat was less spectacular than traveling by a storm cloud, but Lethos was grateful for the mundane. The large Avadurian fishing vessel was no different from any of the others that dotted the waters of these barbarian lands. A crew of five men bent easily to Grimwold's will and seemed even cheerful enough to be sailing directly for the lands of their ancient rivals. It took several days of travel, camping on the coast of Avadur as they went, but soon the island of Finnmogur loomed on the horizon. After days of being in everyone's way aboard the overfilled ship, Lethos was glad to step onto land again.

  Blund's provisional capitol of Brunholm greeted this fishing vessel much as the first time Lethos had arrived here with Valda. Armed men gathered them at the shore and marched them inland to Blund's hall. When Grimwold released his control over the Avadurian crew, they grew so hostile that they were subdued and captured. Valda had argued for their release, but her word seemed to carry little weight.

  The A-frame homes of Brunholm were busy with people rushing about their daily chores. The passage of their little procession gathered smudge-faced onlookers, particularly with Syrus carrying a stack of ancient books. A dog barked at them until children shooed it away. Lethos felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the repaired hall of Captain Blund atop its hill. Though he called himself a war chief, Lethos still couldn't help but remember him as the desperate, half-dead captive of the Avadurian troll pits. He supposed the captive fishermen would not get a fair handling after all.

  They awaited Blund's pleasure in the hall, surrounded by guards who seemed unable to decide if they wanted to be intimidating or friendly. Lethos caught a few with a smile that others grunted away. Grimwold picked his nose as he sat at table, and Syrus opened one of the books to begin reading by the thin light dropping in from the smoke hole at the center of the hall. Only Valda and Thorgis stood, facing away from each other. Thorgis still held his sword like it was Danir's child. How long before Grimwold lost his patience and tore it from his arms? How humiliating for the son of a king.

  "And so you return to try my hospitality again?" Blund appeared in the door with more guards at his back. He wore plain clothes, though had clearly given thought to the gold armbands and rings he displayed. He folded his arms so as to emphasize them.

  Grimwold stood and bowed. "Is anyone more famous for his hospitality than Blund Bloodtooth?"

  "Flattery," Blund said as he swept into the room. He paused at Valda and gave a short bow, nothing fitting for a queen, but at least a concession to her station. Thorgis cleared his throat, but Blund's eyes glided past him. He climbed to his chair upon the raised platform at the far end of the hall, and once seated he waved back his guards. "You brought me captives."

  "They were taken here against their will," Valda said, careful not to look at Grimwold. "Could you not show them mercy and cast them back into the sea? They are but fishermen and will surely return to their families."

  "They attacked my men," Blund said, shrugging as if that explained all. "I don't care what they do for a living."

  "Please, we have more important matters," Grimwold said. He was still war chief of Reifell, and though he lacked all the finery Blund displayed, he could speak plainly as one chief to another. "The land is under threat and we need to gather our strength here before we decide our next steps."

  Blund smiled and nodded. "Oh, the land is under threat. Harald Redfingers is no more, along with most of his people. The south of Finnmogur is in chaos because of strange creatures that appear out of nowhere then vanish. They bring storms, it seems, like your friends did."

  "Those were no friends," Grimwold said. "And they are not even the same as what you face here. It is dire news indeed to hear of such a fate. Have you any more reports since we have been gone?"

  "All is quiet now, but the people left behind panic." Here Blund looked to Valda. "They look to me for guidance and north to Norddalr for our High King. I have not said anything to them for fear of making matters worse. But the rumors are growing that Norddalr is finished and the High King is dead. Some claim to have traveled from there and say the island is surrounded by a strange mist."

  "Then give us your roof for a while longer," Grimwold said. "And we will fight back these invaders."

  Blund raised a skeptical brow. "You handful against these things that can devour half an island?"

  "You've seen what I can do. Do not doubt me." Grimwold's smile flashed, and Lethos knew he enjoyed the drama. Blund seemed less enthusiastic for it, but he nodded.

  "Stay as long as you need, but leave my hall in one piece this time."

  So they settled into rooms, and Syrus spread out his books. They ate well, slept well, and kept Thorgis and Valda separated. Grimwold did not demand the sword from Thorgis yet, who even now slept atop it. Lethos could not understand Thorgis's possessiveness nor Grimwold's patience. He asked neither about it, and figured all would work out in time.

  Syrus had become the focus of everyone's attention, and Lethos admired how he calmly went about his studies. Grimwold sat with him, unable to offer more than encouragement, and mumbled about their old adventures whenever Syrus seemed to pause.

  After several days of this, Syrus was ready to make his recommendation. He had gathered all of them to the table, Blund included out of respect. He was haggard and bleary eyed from his sleepless efforts, and he rubbed his face before he started.

  "One ark of the Tsal does not contain many of their number, but is mostly slaves and other things they need to stay at sea. They don't eat, apparently, but survive off the radiance of the wild stone. In any case, the wild stone will have been placed at the highest point in the land to not only serve as a beacon but to provide a boost to the Tsal's magic. The key is in destroying that stone, along with Avulash. The beacon magic is strange and complex, and I do not understand magic at all."

  He paused to look expectantly at Lethos. "Why look to me? Because I came from the south? I don't know magic."

  Again Syrus scrubbed his face with both hands and continued. "Nothing in any of the books I recovered explains how to disable the magic of the beacon. The Tsal king will arrive with all his people, and from what the Order of Phyros hinted at, they felt the king was something of a god himself."

  "Not encouraging," Blund muttered.

  "I am missing a part of the puzzle," Syrus said, his rich voice now thin and tired. "I've scrubbed these books for more on these beacons, but all I have found is dire warning to never let one rise in the first place. The Order must have known how to destroy them, but if they recorded it, the books are likely back in Tsaldalr. As strange as it
sounds, I would be willing to go back."

  Grimwold grunted. "There is no time. I know you thirst for knowledge, my friend. But these Tsal strike like snakes hidden in tall grass. When they bite, they kill. All I can think of is to be where they will appear next and prepare an ambush of our own. I cannot approach Norddalr, not with that wild stone to burn me up like a dried leaf."

  Syrus scratched his short, dark hair. He had not even paused in his studies to shave it back down. "They have your scent. They have your blood. Both you and Lethos are open to their magic. Again, I only know that with blood they can perform remarkable magic. Think of how Amator raised an army of trolls with wild stone and blood sacrifice. Imagine what the masters of this magic are capable of doing?"

  They all sat in sullen quiet, then Syrus slapped the table with his open palm. "Of course! High King Eldegris was the last paladin of the Order of Phyros, at least in Valahur. He knew the threat and knew the Tsal were coming. He could not stop them, so he sent me to confound their efforts in Tsaldalr. I realized this later, of course, but he knew what he needed to know. He wanted his son and his sword away from Avulash."

  "This much I have guessed myself," Grimwold said. "But why let himself be killed along with his family?"

  "I cannot guess the mind of my king," Syrus said. "Perhaps he saw no other way to resist the Tsal once you were incapacitated and sought to fight a battle of delays. Perhaps Danir told him to do all of this. No one will ever know. But here is one thing I am certain of. He knew this day would come, and he told me what to do."

  Syrus's face beamed with pride. Lethos was happy just to see the poor man smile once more. He had been a cheerful and loyal man before Tsaldalr, and Lethos hoped he would recover it.

  "What did my father say? Why would he keep it secret from me?" Thorgis asked. Syrus ignored his challenges, his eyes focused on a memory.

  "You paid so little attention to your father," Syrus said. "But we were both standing in the library, surrounded by hundreds of books, many of them no doubt as ancient as these. He said, 'What I have not told you fills all the books in this room.' He was telling me that the answers I need would be in the library. We must get to that library."

  "We can't go," Lethos said, feeling his heart sinking. "The wild stone prevents--"

  "Only you and Grimwold," Valda said. She stood from the table. "But not Syrus and I. We will retrieve whatever we can from the library."

  "What?" Thorgis stood in challenge to his sister. "You will not take me?"

  "No," Syrus said. "His cowardice will get us all killed."

  Thorgis's face burned red, and Grimwold stared at him impassively. Lethos looked aside, embarrassed for the boy. Yet he had heard from Syrus during his brief rests of how Thorgis had failed on every count. Only Blund seemed to waver on supporting Thorgis, but the issue was solved when he snatched up his sword and strode from the hall.

  Valda did not watch him leave, but continued as if he had never spoken. "War Chief Blund, you must lend us a ship and brave men. They may die in ways no man can imagine, but they will die as heroes. Do you have such men to spare?"

  "Well, the island is in a panic," he said. Grimwold narrowed his eyes, and Blund hastily rubbed his mouth. "But there will be enough to ferry you back and forth. I'd go myself if I were not needed here."

  "I'm certain you would," Valda said, her smile thin. "Syrus, do you know what we seek?"

  "Not at all."

  That statement killed the momentum, and Valda sat once more. Yet at last she shook her head. "No matter. We will never know until we enter the library. Can you travel today? If so, then we must prepare rations and mead then set sail. We cannot waste another moment."

  Lethos's chest had grown so tight he thought he might not breathe again. Grimwold sensed his anxiety and regarded him with narrowed eyes. Of course he could not ruin Valda's honor by contradicting her or preventing her departure. He wanted to stop her, of course, for this was a suicidal task if he ever heard one. Yet it was her decision to make, and none were better suited than her and Syrus. She knew the layout of the fortress, and Syrus would know what they needed. He tried to breathe deeper and calm himself.

  "I was hoping for a better meal and some rest," Syrus said, wiping his face once more. "But I can sleep aboard the ship, and the feast can wait for the day of our victory."

  Grimwold clapped Syrus's shoulder. "There's the man I know. You are a true hero. A song will have to be made to honor all you've done."

  The rest of the afternoon passed with Lethos wandering helplessly between the hall and the ship Blund had provided. More barbarians were willing to die horribly than Lethos would have guessed. For them the thoughts of sailing with their High Queen against invaders who had captured the heart of their nation far outweighed the danger. More than once Lethos found Blund quietly persuading some of his best warriors to remain behind, but by their nature they would not. At least the ship would be crewed by the best Blund could offer. When it came time for Valda and Syrus to sail, Lethos had a lump in his throat the size of a fist.

  "Be safe," was all he could think to say. It made him wince, because it was trite and obvious and he always thought he was better at words than this. She stood at the bottom of the gangplank, dressed in deerskin pants and carrying a shield, and smiled at him.

  "You as well. I don't know what will happen next." She paused to shift the shield on her back. "I must thank you for all you've done for me. I will never forget it."

  He nodded again, feeling his face heat up. Her smile widened then she bounded up the gangplank and disappeared onto the deck.

  Syrus came next with Grimwold guiding him by his shoulder. "Don't do anything to get yourself killed," he said. "Without whatever it is you need from the library, we're in a lot of trouble. Besides, you're half of all the actual friends I have. Can't have you dying. You're sure about this? Everything is sailing on your hunch."

  "I'm right," Syrus said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "I just don't know the specifics. It's probably a book or something to turn off the beacon once it is no longer needed. I'm just certain Eldegris wanted me to return to the library after I had spent time in Tsaldalr. These books are filled with diagrams of objects that I don't understand. Maybe something to match one of them will be there."

  Grimwold slapped Syrus's back. "I'm sorry for all the times I made light of your reading and studying. It's saving all our heads today."

  Blund and his people gathered at the shore to wish the crew success. The cheering was punctuated with the weeping of wives or mothers or the wailing of children too young to understand why their fathers were sailing away. Lethos felt like joining them as he watched Valda waving to her subjects like the queen she was. Her brother, Thorgis, had not been seen since he had stormed from the hall. It was better he did not mar this final look at Valda before she sailed off.

  Lethos startled at Grimwold's heavy hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it but continued to watch the ship as the oars reached into the water and pulled it out to sea.

  The remainder of the day was subdued and quiet. For the first time since this had started, Lethos was without Valda, and he did not know what to do with himself.

  The answer came when storm clouds gathered and distant screams echoed across the fields.

  Rushing out of Blund's hall, Grimwold and Lethos saw the barren treetops shaking beneath black storm clouds. People were fleeing the area like rats from a sinking ship.

  Then from between the trees stepped the enormous shape of a giant. Its roar tore across the fields like a clap of thunder.

  "Looks like the Tsal made some improvements since the last time I saw it," Lethos said. "It's bigger and uglier."

  The giant tore up a pine tree by the roots and hurled it at the fleeing villagers.

  "Then let's go bring it down," Grimwold said.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Syrus was glad for the sea air again. The darkness and dust of Tsaldalr had wormed into his very flesh and sapped his hope with every day
he had spent within it. Now the deck rocked beneath a storm-dark sky and sea spray tickled his face. Strong sailors worked the sails and the oars, bolstering their spirits with song. Their helmsmen, Girrolf, was a broad-shouldered man with a wild, coppery beard and deep laugh. Syrus liked him immediately and understood why Blund had tried hard to keep him behind. Girrolf was a man who did not intend to die in bed and let everyone know it.

  Valda was a welcomed relief from her slug of a brother. Had he not been the son of king, Syrus wondered if he would have murdered the little snot. Now in the clear air such a crime was beyond him, but trapped in desperation in the darkness of an ancient evil he might have killed him with his bare hands. How such a noble king could produce such a child was beyond him. Valda, however, had inherited the best of her father. She wore her shield like she knew what to do with it. Blund's men had become her own to command within hours of leaving sight of the shore. She walked among them, learning their names, praising their bravery, and encouraging them to face the peril that lay ahead. Thorgis would have brooded in the prow, leaving everyone to wonder at his thoughts.

  The eastern shore of Norddalr was not a long journey, but the actual fortress lay farther west along the coast. Yet as the men rowed toward the edge of the island, their songs faltered and died. Nothing but black storm clouds rolled overhead, lightning flashing between them as if each cloud dueled with its neighbor. A heavy, yellowish mist shrouded what had once been green shorelines or fresh cliffs. Now all was shadowy and pale behind the veil.

  "It is as if this land is no longer part of our world," Girrolf said, relaxing his hold on the tiller to stare along with his crew.

  "There is probably much truth in that," Syrus said. "The Tsal claim these lands were once theirs and seek to recapture them. I think this is what they will do to all of Valahur and Avadur. Maybe it's what they will do to the world."