Keeper of the Realms

by Marcus Alexander

A creak followed a low-pitched groan. The sound snapped and reverberated through the chilly dawn air.

  An arm of epic proportions punched up from the fissure. It snaked from side to side with poor grace until its branch-like fingers found purchase on a nearby boulder. Tensing, the arm pulled the rest of its body free from the soil and slowly but with great determination stood upright.

  A behemoth.

  It took a juddering step forward and slammed a wagon-sized foot down amongst the crowded Tremen.

  Not all were quick enough to jump out of the way.

  ‘Jensen!’ shouted Nibbler. ‘What are we going to –’

  ‘Pull back!’ hollered Jensen by way of answer. What choice did they have? ‘Pull back!’

  But they couldn’t. More Shades had arrived and, dancing between them on delicate, skittish legs, were Rhinospiders. Stomen armed with lances and tasselled spears rode their mounts with negligent ease. Their eyes viewed the gathered Tremen with contemptuous scorn.

  ‘Going somewhere, you green-skinned monkeys?’ sneered a rider. ‘What’s it going to be, squished beneath the behemoth’s feet or fed whimpering and crying to my steed?’

  The Tremen, threatened on all sides, were herded into a narrow defensive position. Tired, and with many carrying fearsome wounds, they moaned in dismay.

  Luck was not with them today.

  ‘Surrender!’ cried a Treman, unable to face being devoured by a Rhinospider. ‘We surrender!’

  The Stomen laughed at that.

  With Stonesong flashing around them, the Stonesingers urged the behemoth on. They watched with grim satisfaction as it raised its foot again. It paused, readjusted its aim and brought it crushing down. Pressed and hemmed in, the Tremen had even less space to jump aside than before.

  Those who survived cried in terror.

  With an awful juddering motion, the behemoth slowly raised its foot once more.

  Growling furiously, Jensen raised his weapon. ‘If we die, we die as Tremen, not as sheep! Up! Up and at them!’

  ‘No!’ shouted Nibbler. ‘No! You’ll die –’

  ‘We’ll die anyway!’ snarled Jensen. Riding a wave of anger, he shook his sword. ‘Who’ll join me? Who’ll show these dark-hearted curs that we know how ta die as free men?’

  Nibbler stared at the Tremen in disbelief. His gaze took in the masks of rage and hopelessness and horror worn by the diminutive Tremen. He also caught the grim expressions of the Stomen, noticed their sneering lips, their uncaring eyes and looks of derision. As he breathed in he tasted the scent of fear, of blood and the indescribable smell of dread.

  Something clicked inside his head like a switch being thrown. And without conscious thought he ripped the pendant from round his neck and waved it overhead.

  But in the press and panic of the crowd and beneath the shadow of the behemoth’s foot he realized he wouldn’t be spotted.

  He had to do something about that.

  Spitting out bolt after bolt of lightning and gusting wave after wave of flames, he danced back on his rear legs and waved the pendant from side to side.

  ‘THE PENDANT!’ he screamed. His voice cut through the bedlam and sliced through the jigsaw muttering of fear and panic so that even the Stoman riders bobbing back and forth on bloated Rhinospiders heard him. ‘I HAVE THE PENDANT! I HAVE IT! AND IT’S HERE FOR THE TAKING!’

  A wave of interest was kindled amongst the Stomen. Who hadn’t heard of the magical pendant wanted by all and coveted most dearly by their Lord Bane?

  The Stonesingers’ song faltered.

  The Rhinospiders’ dancing legs slowed.

  Even the Shades ceased their endless twitch and snarl to stare at the pendant glittering in the crisp sunlight.

  ‘YOU WANT IT? COME AND GET IT!’

  Spreading his wings, Nibbler shot into the air. As he hurtled beneath the behemoth’s foot he spiralled once, twice round its leg, then in a final wave of flame and lightning that was certain to grab the Stomen’s attention he flew off. Banking low, he hovered over a nearby spire of rock and, dancing back and forth in the air, waited.

  Teasing his enemy.

  Taunting their hearts with what lay in his grasp.

  The Stomen stared at his silhouette. Looks were exchanged, dry lips were licked. A ripple of motion shuddered through their force and without any commands being uttered they gave an almighty roar and burst into motion.

  Howling, hissing and screaming, they chased after the Winged One and the pendant.

  5

  Loyalties

  Charlie rubbed at her eyes. She was irritated and far from happy. ‘Why do you have to split us up?’

  ‘I’m not breaking ya up outta spite but outta necessity. I don’t need ta tell ya that after yesterday’s events me resources are limited and now I must split them even further.’ Lady Dridif paused to pull a sour face. ‘Freeing the Winged Ones is our most urgent goal. But with Bane’s two armies rapidly approaching I must also devise a way ta defend me city. That is two cans of worms I must attend ta and only a few good men and women ta rely upon. Which is why I’m sending ya three Keepers ta the Winged Mount. Ya will find this Serpent’s Tail and ya will free the Winged Ones.’ Dridif paused to fix Marsila, E’Jaaz and Charlie with an unflinching stare. ‘However, with me generals butchered and me army reduced from tens of thousands ta hundreds I’m presented with a problem of no small measure. I must harvest the few surviving seeds of talent that remain ta aid the defence of me city. Kelko, ya will stay here –’

  ‘I’m not leaving Charlie,’ protested Kelko. ‘Not again and not when she needs me.’

  ‘Loyalty is ta be commended,’ said Dridif. ‘But ya’re needed here.’

  ‘But wot about Charlie?’ insisted Kelko. ‘Ya’re sending her inta lands held by the enemy. We know that Bane has garrisoned Shades –’

  ‘Enough, Kelko,’ insisted Dridif.

  But Kelko, unabashed, continued: ‘– Stomen warriors and Stonesingers at the Winged Mount. There’ll be behemoths too and wot about Rhinospiders?’

  ‘I said enough!’ snapped Dridif. She slammed her hand on the table and though she was a slight woman the desk shivered beneath her fist.

  Silence fell across the room.

  ‘They are Keepers!’ said Dridif. In a quieter but no less fierce voice she continued. ‘Keepers have and forever will be charged with dangerous tasks. It is their duty ta ensure peace and the sovereignty of the realms. It has been dis way through the ages and so it will remain for the foreseeable future. Ya know dis and they know it.’ Kelko opened his mouth to bluster a reply but Dridif held up her hand. ‘As young as she is, Charlie has proved her worth. Marsila and E’Jaaz have also done so countless times before. Knowing dis, I will not hesitate in sending them ta the lion’s den. And as for ya, Kelko of the Fat Oak, well, I intend for ya ta stay here and lead our defences. Ya’re ta be Sylvaris’s first general.’

  Kelko’s mouth twitched and only after a few hesitant attempts did he find his voice. ‘Ya wot?’ he croaked.

  ‘Ya heard me … general.’

  ‘Bu-but why?’ said Kelko. ‘I mean … me?’

  ‘Ya really need me ta answer that?’ Taking a second look at Kelko’s dazed expression, Dridif sighed. Perhaps she would have to provide an answer. ‘Who escaped the Soul Mines of Zhartoum and raced across the Great Plains ta warn Sylvaris of Bane’s intended attack?’

  Lady Dridif

  ‘Kelko did,’ said Marsila.

  ‘Yes, he did. And when the battle lines faltered, who was the first ta take a step forward and face the enemy?’

  ‘Kelko,’ repeated Marsila.

  ‘And when all the generals had been slaughtered and our lines were being overrun, who was the last ta leave?’

  ‘Kelko,’ said Marsila for the third time.

  ‘And there ya have it, Kelko of the Fat Oak. Yer name is worth yer weight in gold.’

  ‘A truly heavy name,’ said E’Jaaz. ‘And one that is uttered on the streets of Sylvaris with fo
ndness and respect.’

  Marsila nodded in agreement.

  But Kelko’s face had turned pale. ‘Even if I don’t agree with yer wisdom in picking me and as much as I appreciate the honour, how can ya ask me ta leave Charlie when we all know she’ll be in danger?’

  ‘Kelko …’ began Charlie but was silenced by Dridif.

  ‘Kelko, ya must accept that we face the end of days. Risks must be taken. If we do not take them, then all is lost. Literally. If we cannot take a stand Bane will wipe us from the face of Bellania. Sylvaris will be cast in shadow, our people will be enslaved – and with Bane’s twisted taste for flesh we both know that Treman children will end up in his cook pot. Now Charlie will go and find dis Serpent’s Tail and ya will manage the defences of Sylvaris. We need ya, Kelko of the Fat Oak. Ya will give our people new heart.’

  Kelko released a sigh but he stood straighter and his chin lifted. ‘End of days, huh? All right, I’ll play at being general and at least while I’m here I’ll know that Marsila and E’Jaaz Keeper will be by Charlie’s side. Ya will keep her safe, won’t ya?’

  ‘Of course,’ said E’Jaaz.

  Marsila scowled at the other Keeper. ‘Don’t lie to the man. Kelko, you know we can’t promise that. Anything could happen – loss of life, loss of limbs, capture, torture or death – but, as Keepers, we promise to do our utmost to keep Charlie in one piece.’

  ‘Kelko of the Fat Oak,’ said E’Jaaz solemnly, ‘I promise you that I will die before allowing Charlie to be taken from my side.’

  Kelko blinked in astonishment. ‘Well, if that’s the case I’ll feel slightly better about allowing Charlie ta go with ya. And at least I know that rascal Jensen will be there ta keep an eye on the lot of ya.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ said Dridif. ‘Jensen the Willow will be returning ta Sylvaris too. I need his rather special talents.’

  ‘Wot?’ asked Kelko. ‘Why?’

  ‘Money,’ said Dridif with a shrug. ‘War is a costly business and we need money as much as we need blades and warriors. Maybe more so. Money buys medical care, military supplies, food and clothing. It can influence the minds of those not yet swayed by Bane’s fist, it can buy the vote of the freetowns in the deep south and be used ta bribe the barbarians of the icy north. Money is and will continue ta be an essential part of our fight for freedom And for that I need Jensen.’

  ‘What position do you intend him to hold?’ asked Marsila.

  ‘Chancellor,’ said Dridif.

  ‘Me a general? And Jensen a chancellor?’ Kelko swallowed in disbelief. ‘Times really have changed.’

  ‘That they have,’ agreed Dridif. ‘Now ta work. Let us discuss how these three Keepers are ta operate when they travel ta the Winged Mount.’

  6

  Messages and Tall Tails

  The Shade scampered into the fortified temple that had once belonged to the Winged Ones but had since been requisitioned by the Stomen. Speeding past shackled slaves and between the legs of warriors, it slithered down corridors and round corners until it reached a large circular door that bore carvings of swallows and hawks. It squeezed its boneless body through the gap between frame and door, and eased itself into the candlelit room beyond.

  The Stonesinger ceased his chanting and allowed the flicker of power to diminish from around his fists. ‘What do you have for me?’

  The Shade passed on its message.

  ‘Interesting,’ said the Stonesinger.

  He rose from his reclining position and strode towards the oval patch of exposed rock that lay in the centre of the mosaic floor. Singing softly, he summoned his power. With gestures and sweeping motions of his hands, he caused arcane-looking words to rise from the ground. Once he was happy with the message he increased the volume of his song and the glow of flame that surrounded his fists. He lifted his hands overhead, shifting stances, then punched them downward.

  A shade

  SHHKMPF!

  The raised words disappeared into the ground.

  ‘It is done,’ said the Stonesinger.

  Message delivered, the Shade disappeared back beneath the door.

  Hundreds of miles away in a chamber that lay beneath the Western Mountains, another Stonesinger stood next to a similar-looking patch of rock. When he heard the sliding of stone upon stone he ceased his quiet contemplations to study the raised symbols that had appeared. Once he was confident he had memorized the words he left the chamber and hastened towards the Throne Room.

  ‘The lord has departed to confer with his god,’ said the man-at-arms who guarded the door.

  ‘Then allow me to pass my message to one of the generals.’

  ‘Hello, sonny,’ drawled a voice. ‘We’ll hear what you’ve got to say.’

  The Stonesinger turned to find a pale-faced Treman looking expectantly up at him. The Treman’s arms were crossed, two sword hilts jutted over his shoulders and running down his face was an impressive scar.

  ‘What makes you think –’ began the Stonesinger, only to stop when a heavy hand clapped down on his shoulder. The hand belonged to a powerful Stoman who was naked other than sandals, loincloth and a necklace made from teeth. A quiver hung from his belt and a longbow was strung over his shoulder.

  ‘Don’t think,’ growled the near-naked Stoman, ‘just talk.’

  The Stonesinger froze as he felt something cold slide partly up his nostril. Moving just his eyes, he looked down to find the angry-looking Treman with one of his swords in hand, its tip the cold needle he felt in his nose.

  ‘We’re the Delightful Brothers,’ said Stix, ‘and if you don’t want to look like you had an accident while picking your nose you’d better deliver us your message. We’ll make sure it gets passed on to your lord.’

  Fearing more for his nose than for his reputation, the Stonesinger politely, very politely, informed the Delightful Brothers of the events unfolding near the Winged Mount.

  ‘Pendant?’ said Stix.

  ‘Winged One?’ said Stones.

  Smiles, like unholy flowers, blossomed on the brothers’ faces.

  ‘Sounds like we’ve just found a job that would suit our talents,’ said Stix.

  Grinning wickedly, the Delightful Brothers sent the Stonesinger packing, then headed into the Throne Room.

  ‘So if no one’s heard of this Serpent’s Tail,’ said Marsila, ‘how are we going to find it?’

  ‘I’ve studied the maps and none of them, old and new alike, have any mention of a Serpent’s Tail,’ said Dridif. ‘Or at least none near the Winged Mount. The only mention of a Serpent’s Tail is in the lands far ta the west.’

  ‘Is that worth looking into?’ queried E’Jaaz.

  ‘No,’ mused Dridif. ‘That far away from the Winged Mount makes it nothing more than a red herring. We need ta be precise about dis. The dark god told Charlie that the Serpent’s Tail could be found within the shadow of the Winged Mount so that is where we must concentrate our efforts. I would guess that we’re looking for a geographical location that looks like a serpent’s tail.’

  Dridif gestured for her guests to join her by the large map that filled the wall of her study.

  The three Keepers and Kelko moved closer.

  ‘You do realize that the Winged Mount is huge?’ said Marsila. She pointed at its location. ‘That’s going to cast one heck of a large shadow and, as the sun moves, that shadow is going to travel across a lot of ground. We could be talking about an area that is tens of square miles. That’s an incredible amount of distance in which to find something.’

  Dridif remained silent. This was not news to her.

  ‘Like looking for a needle in a haystack,’ said Kelko.

  Charlie groaned inwardly. With time so short they couldn’t afford to treat this like some sort of fairy-tale treasure quest.

  ‘But surely the Winged Ones would have left some sign?’ said E’Jaaz. ‘Some indicator as to where the Gateway must be? To leave us with nothing more than a hinted location is too vague. Even for them.’


  ‘I think it was intended ta be vague,’ said Dridif. ‘The Winged Ones wouldn’t have wanted the information ta be easily revealed if the pendant fell inta the wrong hands.’

  ‘So we’re really going to be combing through miles and miles of enemy territory hunting for something that looks like a snake’s tail?’ grumbled E’Jaaz. ‘I’m betting that you guys are all thinking this Serpent’s Tail is a crag, a funny-shaped hill or cliff. Am I right?’ There was a round of sheepish nods. ‘Well, what happens if it’s not something as large or as obvious as a cliff? What if we’re looking for something small? I’m guessing that we don’t have the leisure of taking months to find this tail either?’

  ‘No, ya most certainly do not have months!’ snapped Dridif, irritated that once again he was trying to make light of the matter. ‘Ya have days, three at most, before people start dying. Time is of the essence!’

  ‘Is there any chance we should be looking for Serpents’ Tails? As in plural?’ suggested Charlie. ‘I mean, the god did say “Serpent’s Tail” but that’s spoken word, right? Phonetically speaking, serpents’ and serpent’s sound the same but when you write them down they mean two different things. So maybe we could be looking for a series of hills or even, I don’t know, old trees that resemble a bunch of snakes’ tails?’

  ‘Now that’s a good point,’ said Kelko. ‘Dridif, have ya heard of anything that might sound like –’

  ‘No, I have not,’ retorted Dridif. ‘And before we go down that route or ya decide ta spend the entire day debating wot this Serpent’s Tail may or may not look like … well, just forget it. Wot we need is eyes on the ground! Which means enough talking and more action. Charlie, E’Jaaz and Marsila, ya will travel ta the Winged Mount. Once there ya will make sure that scoundrel Jensen the Willow returns here.’

  ‘What about Crumble Shard and Nibbler?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘Nibbler will of course stay with ya. This Crumble Shard … I remember him. He seems like a nice enough lad but he is not my concern. He may stay or return as ya see fit. Just bear in mind that where ya go might not be safe for civilians. Now any last words?’