Paladin's Fall: Kingdom's Forge Book 2

by Kade Derricks

  Hexen opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Gashan shook his head slightly. Hexen led the way, and Gashan followed him down the stairs.

  “You’ll have to forgive her. She is not herself these days,” the Paladin said.

  “Her people and mine have not had a good history; not recently, anyway. There is nothing to apologize for. I only hope that we can earn her family’s trust one day.”

  “It isn’t just that,” Hexen said. “Two of her children are missing. We hope—we believe—they snuck out to join Jin and Dain. One of the guards thought he saw a wolf bound over the wall the night Dain left.”

  Gashan nodded. It was a wonder the woman hadn’t executed him and his guards. Her husband, Jin, and now more of her family were out there. Out with the demons and undead. He’d seen the disfigured bodies of those who hadn’t escaped the demons’ claws. Altogether, the Baroness was conducting herself better than most seasoned commanders Gashan had known. She placed the duty to her people above her family. He understood that.

  “If he has any questions about the mortar, send the dwarf to me. I’ll be happy to offer whatever assistance I can.”

  “Tem is stubborn, but once he’s away from Sera I will extend your offer,” Hexen said. “Will you think on how the demons are getting in?”

  “I will,” Gashan promised.

  He was still thinking about it after he woke the following morning. Tem and Hexen were waiting for him. The pair joined him for a modest breakfast of eggs and rice.

  “Have you fought a siege before?” Tem asked.

  “I have not,” Gashan replied. “But as leader of the Royal Guard, my men and I planned for them often. The citywide defenses of Mirr fall to the army, but I was responsible for defending the king’s castle.”

  “And what do you think of ours?” Hexen asked wryly.

  “This castle is well prepared. Whoever planned all of this did an excellent job, and the construction is excellent, as well. Sieges are lengthy affairs, generally. I assume you have many months’ worth of provisions laid by?”

  “Almost a year’s worth,” Hexen said. “And when Galena learns we are trapped in here and the gold road is closed, we expect aid from them.”

  Gashan nodded. That all sounded well in theory, but so far all Galena had sent were criminals. Help might not come as soon as they hoped.

  “The Baron and Baroness did the planning with help from Razel and myself,” Tem said. “Hexen tells me your towers are sturdy, and all mortar as you said. How did you make the mortar for them?”

  “Birke, join us,” Gashan called to one of his men. A young golden elf came to sit near him. He eyed the Paladin and dwarf with some suspicion. Gashan might have understood why they were being treated as they were, but not all of the men in his command did.

  “Birke, the demons are scraping at the walls and destroying the runewarding. I was telling Tem here how we used a mortar to build our own towers and scratched the runes into it. Your father worked on them, didn’t he?”

  “Father built over half of them, yes. I used to visit him during the construction,” the younger man started.

  “Were there additives for it? Standard mortar would be too soft to resist anything that can chip granite,” Tem said. “It wouldn’t stand up to those demons at all.”

  “He added sand and marble for abrasion and strength and a bit of Charlite, as well.”

  “Makes sense; Charlite is spell-enhanced, but that won’t help us here,” Tem said. “It’s rare and costs a fortune. We don’t have any around here.”

  “Actually, a substitute can be made from a blend of chalk, charcoal, and pumice. Two pounds pumice for every three pounds of chalk and a quarter-pound of charcoal,” Birke said, his eyes lighting up. “Then you spell the mix. I can show you how the spell works. There are a few others here that have the talent for it, as well. Bendigo’s father was apprenticed to my own. After blending it with the marble and sand, you add water, and then it sets in about an hour. Do have all of that on hand?”

  Tem’s eyes lit up in answer, and the dwarf grinned. “One advantage to working with wood elves is they can draw almost any mineral you can imagine from the earth.”

  With little to offer on the mixing of mortar, Gashan and Hexen excused themselves, leaving the young golden elf and the dwarf chattering in excitement.

  “More deaths last night?” Gashan asked as they walked.

  “Three men all along the south wall, all without a sound. My men are spooked, and rightly so,” Hexen said grimly.

  “I have some questions for the Black Corps, but if Regan is in charge, my asking them might prove a problem. He doesn’t trust me,” Gashan said. “You’ll need to be the one to speak with him. If it comes from me he’ll reject it out of hand.”

  Hexen nodded, and Gashan outlined his questions. After thinking about the problem all night, he had an idea on how the demons were getting inside—and on how they were able to vanish without raising an alarm. One Regan wouldn’t like.

  Dain stood before a tall ivory column. A blue flame danced lazily atop it; one that had been burning for countless ages, he’d once been told.

  Further south lay the open ocean, a great, rolling expanse of blue and turquoise. He’d been on the ocean before, though never this far north. He imagined the smell of salt and the song of seabirds. It came to him that he would like to see the ocean again, but not today. Today, his task lay far from that path.

  “This is the valley of Lorthol—the Valley of Shade,” he said. Jin, Luren, and Telar all leaned closer to hear him. “The eternal flame marks the temple’s path.”

  “This place is old…ancient,” Luren said. Her green eyes shone with excitement. “The land itself speaks.”

  “That’s the magic. That’s why the demons created their Well here,” Dain said.

  Jin had been here once before. He and Sera had brought her less than a year after Teran’s fall. After Sera’s parents, King Teldrain and Queen Selasa, gave their lives to protect the city’s people, they’d charged Sera with the temple’s protection.

  Since then, he and Sera alone made the annual trip to renew the wards on the outer doors. He’d found those trips pleasant; a welcome diversion from the everyday routine.

  This trip was different.

  Somewhere behind them, Koren and her demons searched for Lorthol and the power waiting here, and if she found it, demonkind would rage unchecked all over the northlands, destroying all in their path. They knew no other path than that of death and destruction. The valley, the wood elves, Galena, and Dain’s family would all be doomed.

  But not if we kill Koren first.

  Dain led the way down a winding, leaf-covered path. Even on the brightest of days, true sunlight never touched the valley floor. Slick green moss covered the rocky trail, slowing the group’s progress. No one spoke. The damp air was heavy here, thick with power. It seemed to resist sound.

  Leafy ivy hung like a blanket over the outer wall, and only in a few faded grey sections could the wall even be seen.

  They passed through the open gate and into the temple’s courtyard. Stalks of tall grass sprouted from cracks in the cobblestones and thick strands of spidersilk hung in webs between them.

  The temple itself was enormous. The entire castle on the gold road would have fit within its domed roof. Spaced fifty feet apart, columns of white rose a hundred feet into the air. Between the center two columns stood the temple’s twin doors. Made of an unknown black wood and rising over twenty feet high, they stood in stark contrast to the bone-white of the rest of the temple.

  Like sentries, a pair of statues waited beside the door. The heads of both had been removed long ago—the work of some ancient thief, no doubt.

  Dain paused at the huge doors; he felt like a child standing in front of them. He place
d his palm on one of the runewardings that covered the wood. Despite the shade and the air’s dampness, the wood was warm to the touch. It had been every time he and Sera renewed the outer warding. It felt alive.

  “I don’t understand,” Jin said. “The doors are sealed, and if there are other wards inside, Koren shouldn’t be able to enter.”

  “This outer ward only lets the caster know it has been breached,” Dain said. “Your mother will know the instant I open this. Hopefully, she’ll know it’s me and that we’re here to defend the temple.”

  He removed a great steel key from around his neck and fit it to the lock. It rattled and clicked, and he felt the bolt loosen.

  “As for the wards inside, I doubt they will stop Koren.”

  “I felt something just then. It must have been the spell,” Luren said, her fine-boned little face grave with concentration. “This whole place, ever since we left the main path, makes me feel…uneasy.”

  “We’re getting closer,” Dain said. “Your grandfather said the demons built this place to tap into deep earth magics. The elves and demons fought over the valley until Teran, the first wood elf king, led an army to seize this place and defeat the demons.”

  Dain pulled the door open and led the way into a small chamber. Several torches hung on a wall to the left. Although Jin or Luren could light the way with their crystals, Dain removed them and passed them among his children. They might prove useful later. He resealed the lock on the outer doors and then led the way to the second set of doors.

  “Do we need to worry about traps?” Telar asked in a whisper.

  “I don’t know,” Dain said. “We’re already further than I’ve ever been before. Stay a few paces behind me and keep your eyes open.”

  The key opened the second door, also runewarded, and after closing it behind them with a resounding boom despite their careful movements, they entered the temple’s central chamber. At the chamber’s middle was a hole that stretched halfway across the room’s entire width. Warded carvings surrounded it in a labyrinth of lines and circles.

  “What now?” Jin asked.

  “I guess we go down,” Dain said. He started across the wards, and to his surprise he encountered no resistance. Probably recognizes only demons, he thought. Probably.

  “Are you sure about this?” Jin said.

  “I’m sure of nothing, but I see little choice.”

  “Father, I’m scared,” Luren said, her voice growing higher.

  “I am too,” Dain said. “But we have to go on. You’re brave, Luren. Bravery doesn’t mean not being scared—it means you keep going even when you are. Besides, I’m more scared of what happens if Koren captures the Well than of what lies within it alone.”

  Luren swallowed audibly and nodded, pulling herself up straighter. Dain squeeze her shoulder, and Telar reached out and took his sister’s hand.

  “I’m with you, Luren, I’ll help you,” he said.

  A spiraling staircase wound down into the hole, and Dain led his children down.

  The temple warmed as they descended. There were great piers supporting the stairs, but other than that their surroundings consisted of damp, black earth. Long ruddy worms and fat white grubs squirmed through the soil. Occasionally, exposed tree roots or rotted yellow bones poked through the surface. At one juncture they passed the curved tusk of some great beast, almost twenty feet long.

  Each step ground rough beneath their boots as they trod on more runewardings. Some flashed briefly underfoot, a flare of light to match their crystals in the gloom. Dain tried not to think too much on what that might mean.

  Creator, shield us.

  It took them roughly two hours to reach the bottom, Dain reasoned. The darkness here was thick and close, and the light from Jin and Luren’s crystals shone but a few feet. The floor reflected the light faintly, and Dain bent to examine it. It was smooth and cold, almost glasslike. There was nothing here he would call a well. Still, he could feel currents of power in the place—boiling and gathering and flowing all around them. Hoping for more light, he lit one of the torches and saw another warded door. This one was not locked.

  He lifted the latch and pulled. Light spilled outward, blinding him.

  “Ah, visitors at last. I have been waiting,” a voice said from within. “Now, what manner of creatures are you?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “You think one of my men is a traitor?” Regan asked. He then pointed over Hexen’s shoulder. “Is this his idea?”

  Gashan ignored him. He was content to let Hexen handle the situation. Pretending he couldn’t hear, he leaned on the stone wall and focused on the human’s camp instead. From this high vantage point, he could see all of them. Like his own men, the Black Corps soldiers weren’t trusted. How could they be? Wisely, the Baron had kept them isolated from the rest of the defenders in the area immediately behind the main keep. Gashan’s own men were in the courtyard in front of the keep.

  Two groups of defenders: one the Baron didn’t trust and one the Baroness didn’t. It was almost comical. He would have laughed had there not been an army of demons, undead, and his own countrymen outside.

  “Regan, everyone is suspect,” Hexen said, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

  “What about his men? If there are traitors among us it’s likely them.”

  “Gashan’s men are watched night and day. There is no way it’s one of them. Besides, the murders started before they even got here.”

  Right after the Black Corps arrived, Gashan thought, but stayed quiet.

  “I don’t believe it. You saw what Kray did. He masqueraded as a golden elf for years. There could be another of them, and it could be slipping out and murdering us right beneath our noses,” Regan said, eyes bright.

  “Unlikely,” Hexen said evenly.

  Gashan admired the Paladin’s composure. They’d been arguing for half an hour now and showed no signs of resolving anything. Like it or not, he might have to get involved. He didn’t think that would help, but Hexen was getting nowhere, and despite Regan’s bullheadedness in this, he knew that the man was essentially good at his core. He also knew that the soldier cared for Queen Jin, and that endeared him to Gashan somewhat.

  “All we’re asking for is an open mind,” Gashan said.

  “Oh shut it, you,” Regan said. He pointed a finger in Gashan’s direction. “You and your men haven’t given me a good enough reason to trust you yet.”

  “Jin trusts me,” Gashan said, unable to stop himself. Regan looked stricken for the space of a breath, then composed his face into a hard mask.

  “Well. Jin isn’t here, is she,” he said, his voice flat and cold.

  Hexen shot Gashan a dangerous look. No, that hadn’t helped.

  “Let’s make a deal, then. Tonight we watch your men, and tomorrow night we’ll watch Gashan’s.”

  “What if he warns his men,” Regan said.

  “Look,” Gashan started. “We’re going to watch your men regardless. Hexen is already watching mine. What we’re offering you is the chance to join us.”

  “Fine,” Regan said, voice still icy, “but there is nothing to be seen. And I’ll be more than happy to return the favor.”

  Night fell and, atop the southern wall, the three of them waited in the deepest shadows near one of the stone towers. Trying to force any action toward their section of the wall, Hexen had doubled the usual guard on both the east and west walls and armed those men with bright torches.

  “The attackers have to know it’s a trap,” Hexen said. “No way they’re that foolish.”

  “I don’t think it matters,” Gashan said. “I don’t think they can help themselves.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I don’t know. Just a feeling,” Gashan said.

  Regan m
umbled something unintelligible. He leaned against the wall sullenly, some distance from the other two. Since the sun had set, he’d said nothing. He ground the toe of his boot into the stone and looked out toward the forest.

  Gashan had little experience with humans, but the man seemed…well, young. And he’s probably just as worried for Jin as I am. An owl called in the dark, and its shadowed silhouette passed over the moon. Movement below drew his eye. A vague shape was slinking among the tents. It might have been a guard or just someone out to relieve themselves, but he nudged Hexen to be sure the Paladin saw it.

  Hexen nodded. He gestured for Regan to join them.

  “Someone just taking a piss,” Regan whispered.

  The shape froze then. It cocked its head as if it had heard them.

  “Then again, perhaps not,” Regan said, crouching low.

  No one moved. The owl called again. Gashan thought he could almost hear the beat of its wings in the still night air. He kept his eyes locked on the shape below.

  In a sudden burst of speed, the shape moved. It darted out of the moonlight and then melted into the darkest shadows near the wall directly beneath them.

  Gashan leaned over the edge. He could see nothing. Then there was a scrape on the stone below, followed by a quick flash of movement, and then something clawed at him. Pain, bright and hot, flared in his shoulder. He jerked back on instinct, but whatever held him was stronger. It pulled him forward with a monstrous heave, and then Gashan felt himself falling.

  He landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him. He fought to draw breath as he rolled over and then rose to his knees, covered in rough straw. He’d gotten lucky. The fall was at least thirty feet and, if he’d landed on his head or anywhere instead of on the piles of hay and forage for the livestock, it would have killed him. Sounds of fighting carried down from above. A yellow light flared brightly, lighting up the night, and he ran for the stairs at the wall’s edge, bounding them in twos and threes.