Austerley & Kirgordon Adventures Box Set

by G R Jordan

  “Farthington?” queried Kilon.

  “The man-dragon is known as Farthington to us, or as Zmey Gorynych,” Austerley answered. “He kidnapped my friend’s wife when we previously had him cornered and has run away from us. So far we have tried to track him and have ended up here, but we weren’t sure that he was here.”

  “Oh, he’s here,” said Kilon. “And there are many who wish he wasn’t.”

  “Well, I intend to rid this place of him,” declared Austerley, in a moment of bravado which caused Kirkgordon to laugh.

  “Why do you mock the Professor?” asked Kilon.

  “Because he didn’t want to come here. So far, he’s passed out twice and has only attracted bad things with that damned foot of his.”

  “Ah, I see you have exchanged feet with someone. You have such a talent, Professor, for the words in the books. But I think you may have chosen the wrong donor this time.”

  “You don’t say,” grunted Austerley.

  “If I was you, Professor, I’d have someone cut it off quickly and learn to walk without it.”

  “Nobody is cutting my leg off. Can we get that straight?”

  “But it will cause you trouble, Professor. You see, the talk in quiet corners is that they have returned. Returned to cause trouble.”

  “Who?” asked Kirkgordon.

  “The webbed-feet people. Very dark is their world. The creature they worship brings only the black night.”

  “We saw some frog-men when we arrived in this world,” said Kirkgordon.

  “Frog-men?” asked Kilon. Austerley made some bizarre noises. “Ah yes, I see the way it’s put together now. Yes, Archer, frog-men.”

  “Then Dagon is looking for me, Churchy. You hear that? Dagon’s here.”

  “Looks like it. But he may not know you’re here. It might be Farthington he knows about.”

  “Archer,” said Kilon, “if I know you are here then they will. Nothing hides from the shadow.”

  Austerley was shaking on the bed. Staring at his foot, he muttered under his breath. Kirkgordon could see Austerley was withdrawing into himself, drawing back from the mammoth danger they now faced, but he needed to salvage something good from this situation.

  “Kilon, are you able to heal people?”

  “You have need of a healer? If it’s the Professor’s foot you speak of, then sadly not,” answered Kilon.

  “No, an associate of mine got bitten by some little furballs with big fangs, called… called… Austerley, what do you call the furballs?” There was a grunt from Austerley followed by more weird noises in another language.

  “But of course. Where is the sufferer?”

  “On the other bed. I’ll take you nearer if this coldness is released from my throat.”

  “Of course, I think I can see you are the Professor’s friend.”

  Kirkgordon felt the cold disappear from his throat and led Kilon to Nefol’s bedside. The monoped creature stared intently at the sleeping girl. Suddenly the room began to hum. It was like a quiet droning in the background and the feeling that the merest of sea breezes was tickling its way past your face. For Kirkgordon it was as if he could drift away, back to more pleasant times, but then the rattling of Austerley’s foot broke through all semblance of calm.

  “What are you doing, Kilon?” asked Kirkgordon.

  “Please don’t interrupt my friend when he’s working,” came a voice from the darkest corners. “At the moment he is assessing how she is and then he will work out how to heal her. He’s very good at healing people, isn’t he, Professor?”

  Austerley nodded as he fought to calm his foot down, to no avail.

  Kirkgordon addressed the dark. “But what about Auster… the Professor’s foot, why can’t he do anything about that?”

  “Because, Archer, the girl has been affected by a physical poison, something natural, so to speak, even if you struggle to believe it. The Professor has a spiritual pain. You need a priest.”

  “A man of God,” asked Kirkgordon.

  “If that’s where your allegiance lies. But there are others who could work on it.”

  “I’m afraid our priest died saving several of us, including the girl who the foot came from. I could really use him now.”

  “It is done,” interrupted Kilon.

  “What’s done?” asked Kirkgordon.

  “I have stabilized her.”

  “Stabilized? You didn’t even touch her!”

  “He doesn’t touch people, Churchy. You felt the wind, his presence. He touched her in other ways,” informed Austerley.

  This was getting to be too much for Kirkgordon. For once, all he wanted was to be stuck in some Middle Eastern market running for his life with his protectee.

  “I need to go out and get some items to help her recover fully, Professor, but my friend will remain here to watch over you. Don’t worry about the girl, she will be fine in a few hours,” said Kilon.

  “Where is your friend?” asked Kirkgordon.

  “He’s in the corner, Archer.”

  “Which corner?”

  “Any corner, any dark space.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Churchy, he’s in every corner. He belongs in the dark places, the spots the children fear to look into. Sometimes you are just plain ignorant. It’s a wonder you managed to get here.”

  “Get here. A wonder how I got here.” Kirkgordon rounded on Austerley. “You lie there with a damned foot that acts as a beacon to the weird and wonderful, no offence guys, and brings us frog-men, furballs and now the good doctor and his… his… what the hell is it?”

  “Bwgan,” said Kilon.

  “Bwhat?”

  “Bogeyman, Churchy,” spat Austerley. “He’s just a bogeyman.”

  “Hey-ho, that’s just dandy then. You just remember who’s keeping Havers from lopping that foot off before you get on your high horse again.”

  “Shall I retire and retrieve the required items for the girl’s healing, Archer?” asked Kilon.

  “Yes… yes, please do. And thank you. Sorry if I seem on edge. It’s just that I’m finding things a bit weird and my wife’s life is on the line.”

  “They do say there is a woman with the dragon. I shall see what I can find out, since you are a friend of the Professor,” said Kilon before leaving the room. Austerley grinned at Kirkgordon, reminding him that it was the Professor who had the connections.

  “Time to just sit and wait then,” said Kirkgordon. “I take it the bogeyman is still here?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I wish he wasn’t,” groaned Austerley. “This foot of mine just won’t settle.”

  A Familiar Church

  Havers emerged from another shop, shaking his head at Calandra. This was the fifth supposed apothecary they had investigated, but no one seemed to know what to do about a bite from the furballs. There was anger brewing within Calandra at the uselessness of this city and she was beginning to regret coming here. Surely the human doctors from Churchy’s realm could sort this out. They would at least have more interest.

  “Where now then, Havers?”

  “Well, my dear, I am beginning to think this is a wild goose chase and we may need to think beyond the basic healers of the town. Possibly we may garner better information from the holy men. There was a temple to what looked like a reasonable god a few streets back,” said Havers.

  “Okay, but let’s be quick. Nefol’s condition may be getting worse for all we know.”

  “I am moving with some alacrity for a man of my age, I’ll have you know. But yes, by all means, a little push to our efforts may help things along.”

  The streets of the town were busy and in this particular area were based on cobblestones which were well maintained. Various carts and horses were being driven along the main thoroughfares and Calandra had to be careful where she trod, given the amount of manure scattered along the road. Soon they arrived at the temple, which was really a glorified set of lodgings. As had been thei
r plan, Havers went to call on the residents while Calandra kept watch from across the street.

  Havers knocked on the door of the lodgings. It opened and to Calandra’s surprise a human peered out. There were plenty of humanoid persons in the town but Havers had been the only actual human she’d seen since they had left their rooms.

  “He has a price for her return. No, don’t look round or the blade will remove your head.” The voice came from behind.

  “He has a price? Since when did he need money?” asked Calandra.

  “There is no need for money, Miss, but can you not feel it in the wind? The one who would be his master is not pleased. He roams forever in the dark, waiting to be released, waiting to wreak havoc on the world, on many worlds.” The voice was low and husky and Calandra thought she had heard it before on a late night radio show that she had listened to while babysitting Austerley.

  “So he knows we are here. He must need us bad or I would be dead.”

  “Not you. He needs Austerley. It has been sent and it is coming. In the week ahead the days will darken and the fear will accompany it, but that will be nothing to when it is unleashed. If Kirkgordon wants to see his wife again, he will get Austerley to destroy it.” The voice sounded urgent, as if it wasn’t sure that the contract would be signed.

  “And how do we know what it is that we are to destroy?”

  “Austerley will know it when he sees it. The rip in time, the fracture that it seeks to come through. In the Rock Temple. Tell Austerley that the one steeped in darkness comes.”

  Calandra shook her head. “You think I am just going to go running back to the gang with some cock and bull story about Farthington being in trouble and for our help he’ll be happy to release Alana? I am eight hundred years old and have seen a con or two in my time.”

  The voice became intense and angry. “Tell Austerley. Tell him of Captain Orne’s downfall. And it will not stop here, for it searches the realms. Tell him. For all our sakes, tell him!”

  Then came a silence which made Calandra think about looking round. But before she could investigate whether the voice had left the vicinity, Havers emerged from the building across the road.

  Calandra turned her attentions to her feet to keep Havers from seeing her face. Part of her was worried that any notion of dealing with Farthington, and in particular saving him, would cut against Havers’ plans.

  “Any luck, Havers?”

  “Actually, we may be in luck. The head priest of this order seems to know a method but he has had to consult some of his other priests. I said I would pop out and bring you in to hear about it. Friendly chap, been serving this city for a number of years. His order is originally from Hurkangdra. Ah, I see that rings a bell with you.”

  “Yes, it does. I was there for nearly ten years when I was about three hundred, I think. A quiet realm with some underlying problems.”

  “Yes, the priest said so. He said that they were based there originally but they felt called to come here. Or rather, a message from their deity advised them to come here.”

  “And what deity is that?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. The name is quite awkward, but they certainly seemed harmless.”

  “After you, then.”

  The pair walked across the road and Havers knocked on the door. After being led inside, they were taken to an old room which was dank and dusty. In a circle sat six hooded figures of whom only one removed its cowl when the pair entered the room. Havers began to talk in the language of the city and Calandra looked around. There were several pictures on the wall which showed Hurkangdra. She recognized the sea rocks being shaped on the anvil and the Flattenburg fish being eaten on the shores. A speciality of that region.

  There was a small altar at the top end of the room, probably just large enough to hold a person lying down. Would be cold though, thought Calandra. She could hear Havers conversing as she walked closer to the altar and spied some writing on the side. It was in older Hurkanda, which was handy as that was what she had spoken for those ten years. The modern language was bewildering to her.

  There were three words in large letters of the Hurkanda script and they certainly weren’t normal ones. The second word was the easiest and meant group or meeting. The third one was bizarre, not a word she could grab at all. The first word she knew in her depths. It wasn’t a common one but she knew, she was sure. Come on Cally, old girl, you can do it. She stared at the letters in stone. Arcane. Maybe arcane. Or cryptic or magical. Mystic, that was it, mystic. The mystic group something or other.

  The third word was eluding her and she turned to watch Havers listening to the priest. He briefly looked up and smiled, indicating that all was okay. Turning back to the letters, she realized that the last word was two words rammed together. Fish was the first part and the second… This was like that blasted game Kirkgordon went on about playing with his children.

  Ah yes, deity. That was it. Fish-deity or Fish God. The mystic group of the fish god. Bit weird that but then Hurkangdra was a place where fishing had ruled. And drinking of course. Mustn’t forget the drinking.

  Havers touched her shoulder and made Calandra jump round.

  “Well, that’s settled, Miss Calandra. They are just going to get a few things and then we will be off. I said we could take them to Nefol but they suggested they go and get her. I’m going to go with them, of course. They said you should stay and they could look at your wounds from the journey.”

  “I dare say it will be to Austerley’s taste here,” said Calandra.

  “How so?” asked Havers.

  “Hurkangdra is mainly coastal and they have all sorts of tall tales. Do you see the pictures? Takes me back. Even this old altar here. I can read the script, Havers. Look, from right to left, like the Chinese. Mystic group of the Fish-god.”

  “Mystic group? Could be mystic like arcane? And an organized group? An order.”

  “Probably.”

  “We need to go, dear lady. Ready your weapon.”

  “Why, Havers? It’s just Hurkangdra culture.”

  “Esoteric Order of Dagon. He is a fish god in many cultures. I believe that says Esoteric Order of Dagon.”

  “The island church. No,” whispered Calandra.

  Havers strode up behind one of the hooded priests and pulled down its deep hood. An elliptical green, slimy head was revealed. The head spun round and bulbous eyes looked at Havers.

  “EOD, my dear, it’s definitely EOD.” And he drove a concealed knife into the frog-man. As he let the frog-man fall to the ground, Havers pulled his pistols from inside his garb. Before he could fire, one of the priests swung an arm and caught Havers in the mouth, sending him crashing backwards. The roof of the room was too low for a frog-man to leap and the restriction forced them into small, controlled hops. This saving grace allowed Calandra to step in front of Havers with her staff. As she clobbered a frog-man with the end of the staff, she heard Havers shout a warning and she spun the staff behind her without looking. A dull thwack onto coarse skin told her she had hit the target and the subsequent thud confirmed it had been a good strike.

  “We need to go, Havers.”

  “An excellent suggestion, my dear, one I have already made, but we are somewhat cornered at the moment. Any suggestions?”

  “Apart from fight our way out, not a lot.” Another frog-man felt a blow under his chin, but Calandra knew she would tire eventually and she had no idea how many of these creatures there were.

  “There are reasons I run the department, my dear. Now close your eyes on my mark.” Havers threw a small device from behind her and she saw it land amongst the frog-men. “Mark!”

  Shutting her eyes, Calandra kept her staff swinging in front of her for protection. Despite pulling her eyelids tight, her vision still registered a bright white. And milliseconds later came the bang. She heard a voice beside her, but it was unintelligible because of the ringing in her ears. Something grabbed her arm and she barely held on to her staff with her other hand. Her
feet tripped forward but she had the dexterity to remain upright while the unknown force dragged her on.

  She opened her eyes and saw Havers’ hand pulling her. Around wooden corridors they ran, in what seemed like a maze. Havers would have memorized the way in, thought Calandra, so that must be blocked. A frog-man appeared in front of them but she saw a knife shoot straight into the amphibian’s throat and he collapsed to the ground.

  Slowly, her ears were recovering and she was grateful to hear the drumming of their feet on the wooden floorboards. Having no idea where she was, she trusted Havers’ arm as they began to climb stairs.

  “Watch your feet, Miss Calandra, these are damned wide.”

  “Meant for hoppers then, Havers.”

  “Ah, you are hearing again, good. My apologies, but I didn’t have time to warn you of everything.”

  “Can we not slow down a moment? I don’t hear them behind us.” The floor and walls of the building were now stone and there was a mustiness in the air born more of disuse than decay.

  “I am afraid not. In my attempts to render aid to Nefol I told the priest our location. Once they fail to find us they will no doubt make their way directly to Mr Kirkgordon. I have a feeling they knew Mr Austerley was nearby anyway, from some of the comments they made to each other. Unfortunately I realized this after I had disclosed the location.”

  “Dammit Havers, they’ll just kill Nefol and Churchy. Austerley’s their baby.”

  “I am aware, my dear. Round to the right there.”

  She turned as directed and they found a wooden door in front of them. Calandra leaned up against it, listening for sounds beyond.

  “There’s a low chant. But it sounds distant. Maybe only one or two,” said Calandra.

  “Listen behind,” advised Havers. There was the sound of a multitude of splats, many hopping feet landing on stone. “We can’t go back. I think forward will be easier.”

  “After three then, element of surprise. You take the right, me the left.” Havers nodded. “One, two, three!”

  Calandra drove the door open with her foot and led Havers into the room. It was a small, dimly lit hall with many stained glass windows. They had entered from a door midway along one side of the hall. From their left came the smell of burning incense and on a small stage was a hooded figure who was chanting. While this was not a large issue, the fact that the other hundred hooded figures who had been crouched in prayer were now rapidly rising to face them undoubtedly was.