Dark Times

by Brian Murray

  “Remember this, boy: I will be the one to kill you.” Dax held the young man for a long moment, staring into his eyes, then pushed him away, propelling him backwards.

  Tucci landed hard on his back with a thud.

  Dax turned to face the others. “You know how I feel, I will leave it up to you to decide whether to trust him. I do not,” he concluded, walking away from the group, his anger boiling.

  Thade turned to face his friends. “I agree with Dax. You men had better decide. Our judgement is clouded by his past. I would kill him now and not give it a second thought. You men had better talk to him, I’m finished here.” The former gladiator followed Dax away from the fire, his anger also building.

  Zane looked at Rayth. Zane knew about the treason, but had not known that his two friends felt so strongly about the Chosen’s son. The only man here with a totally impartial view was Rayth. He did not know the Chosen nor the history with his son.

  “What the hell is going on here, Zane?” asked Rayth, utterly confused.

  “Rayth, you do not know the history and therefore you can talk to him without bias. You give us your opinion when you’ve finished.”

  “What are you talking about?” asked the innkeeper.

  “Please, do as I ask. We’ll leave judgement to you.”

  Rayth nodded. Tanas and Zane left the innkeeper with Tucci, their silence heavy.

  ***

  Zane and Tanas found Dax and Thade sitting alone, talking in whispers. Zane sat next to his mentor. “I’ve asked Rayth to speak to Tucci. He’s a good judge of character and does not know the history. Will you trust his decision?”

  Dax glared at Zane for a long moment, then nodded. “I will not like it if we use him, but if that is Rayth’s decision . . . ” The old warrior paused. “I trust my friends.”

  “Thank you, Dax.”

  “But remember one thing, Zane. If I smell the hint of a trap, I will not hesitate—I will kill him.”

  “I fully understand, Dax and I’m sure there will be a queue.”

  ***

  Rayth looked down at the cowering Tucci for a long while, then knelt down and pulled out his dagger.

  “Please,” whimpered the younger man, curling into a ball, his arms protecting his head.

  “I’m just going to cut your bonds.”

  “Oh . . . thank you,” gulped Tucci, looking up at the burly man.

  Rayth slowly sat down next to the younger man and smiled a genuine smile. “You listen to me carefully, boy. You have to convince me of your story. I know nothing about you and to be honest, I don’t care to know. I’m here to judge your words—so tell me the truth. But believe this, I will not put my friends in jeopardy and will kill you where you sit if I sense any untruths. Do you understand?”

  Tucci nodded.

  “Good, so start at the beginning. How did you get here?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “We don’t have much time and I bore easily, so don’t make it too long.”

  Tucci stared at the older man for a while, then let out a long, heavy sigh. He started by introducing himself as Prince Tucci, son of the Chosen, heir to the Phadrine throne. He told Rayth of his love for his father when he was younger and how, as he got older, he thought his father did not love him. He did not realise until it was too late that his father did, in fact, love him deeply. Tucci explained meeting his ‘friend’ named Naats Flureic, the Darklord. The man preached to him of better times ahead and the arrival of the One—a great man with great power.

  He explained that he was given the drug from the balamine plant, the black crystals, which had caused the young man to change. He said with hindsight, he should not have taken the drugs. Everything he had done wrong was because of his addiction to the drug. The drug caused pleasures to be heightened and Naats Flureic had told him that the best form of pleasure was the raping, torturing, and killing of people. It was when he was high on the drug he undertook dark deeds. Tucci’s voice choked and he was unable to either give any more details nor tell Rayth how many people he had killed, tortured, or raped. And he could not mention the children—the utter shame prevented the words passing his tongue.

  His voice was full of sadness when he explained how he had plotted the assassination of his father, mother, and sister. He paused before he told of his last meeting with his father in the throne room in the white palace, and taking his own life, by plunging a dagger into his heart . . .

  “Then I arrived on the Grey Path. You would have thought by the way I’d served the Darklord, I would have seen happiness in the afterlife. But no, I was abandoned. That’s when I realised I’d done nothing right in my life and I’d been tricked. The only reason my soul is not confined in Mount Moranton is because I am a Child of the Light, one of Her protectors. My eternity will not be in Paradise, nor in the darkness within the Black Mountain of the Damned as I deserve, but wandering the Grey Path.

  “Then the Divine One came to me and told me I could start on the road to Paradise. It would be a long, hard journey, and I may not even get there, but I have to try. She explained I would have to guide some men through the mines to Yallaz’oom. In a dream, She said these men would help my father. Of all the bad things I’ve done in my life, I have a chance to help my father in the afterlife. I am a Child of the Light, but I was corrupted by darkness and wish to correct my wrongdoings.

  “You men will help my father if you survive this, and that’s important to me. I care nothing for you or your people and you can do what you want with me after I’ve shown you the way, as long as you help my father. I love my father and he deserves better than me. But here and now, I will try and make him proud of me. This is not a trap, and I do not intend to lead you intentionally into danger. There are dangers ahead in the mines, but they will not be my doing. I promised the Divine One I would guide you through and this promise I will keep.”

  “So you’re doing this for your father?” asked Rayth.

  “Yes,” said Tucci, bowing his head.

  Rayth thought for a while, staring at the young man, watching him rub his hands like he was washing them.

  Tucci looked up at Rayth and smiled weakly.

  “Boy, I believe you. I do not know why, but I do.”

  “Thank you,” said Tucci, genuinely grateful.

  “Don’t thank me yet. You have to face the others. I want you to explain exactly what dangers we will face, travelling through the mines. Leave nothing out, as this will keep you alive.”

  “I will,” promised the young man, his smile growing.

  Rayth and Tucci rose and the older man led him to the others.

  The friends sat in a circle, chatting in low whispers. When they saw the two men walking towards them, they stopped their conversation. Zane rose to greet Rayth. The former axe-wielder simply nodded and joined the others.

  “So Tucci,” started Zane, “Rayth believes your story.”

  “I thank him for listening and thank you for giving me the chance. If it’s fine with everyone, I will explain what the mines are and what we will face once we’ve entered the tunnels.”

  “What do they mine?” asked Zane, sitting down.

  “The Black Mountain of the Damned or Moranton is not just a mountain. It’s where corrupted, evil souls are held in the afterlife—it’s the eternal home of the damned. The souls of murderers, rapists, and killers are held within the rocks, in permanent blackness. As there are more and more corrupt men now living and dying the mountain grows, hence there are many cave-ins from earth movements.

  “The Keepers, the men in the grey robes, are the guardians of the mines. They search the Grey Path and round up people, the Wanderers, to work the mines. The unfortunate people who are captured by the Keepers become miners and dig for the souls of the damned. Once the souls are found, they are sent to Yallaz’oom. There, I believe, the souls are converted into the Dark One’s army and necromancy is used to transform the souls into foul beasts. If the men have enough evil in them, they’re
returned into human shapes to form the Dark One’s elite—the Caynians.

  “Now within the tunnels, the souls that are not used or damaged are discarded. It is these exposed souls that corrupt and alter the bodies of injured miners, to form the Solus. There is a spell in the air that completes this change. The Solus are small skeletal beings that hide in the depths of the tunnels. They feed on the corruption in the air and devour lost miners who wander too deep into the mountain. Essentially, the creatures are used to stop lost miners from reaching Yallaz’oom. The Solus hide in the cracks in the mines. No one knows how many of them there are, but they attack like a swarm of ants, climbing down walls and leaping from ceilings.”

  “Are you telling us that this place is Hell?” asked Thade.

  “In a word, yes. The souls of evil men are held in the Mountain. The Dark One discovered this and used his black magic to open the mines. He now uses these souls to create his army.”

  “Where do the Keepers come from?” asked Zane.

  “I believe they’re people from the Grey Path who have been altered by the Dark One. They don’t talk to the miners. They let their whips do the talking for them.”

  “How do we get into the mines?”

  “Well, there are quite a few of you,” said Tucci, looking at the other soldiers. “The only way to get everyone in is probably to storm the tunnel entrance and kill the Keepers there. Once past the Keepers, I know a route that will keep us away from the main digs. It will take a while, but we will reach the far side and Yallaz’oom.”

  “Will the people in Yallaz’oom receive word of the attack?” asked Dax.

  “That I don’t know. The Dark One is not here and I’m not sure if they can contact him. If they can, he may be able to inform his army in Yallaz’oom that we’re coming.”

  “Well, that’s a risk we will have to take,” said Zane, looking towards Dax.

  The older man nodded.

  “I would suggest we attack the entrance at night. There are fewer guards at night, and we will have the element of surprise,” said Tucci.

  “I do not trust you,” hissed Dax. “You know that and I will be behind you all the way through the mines. If I smell a trap you will taste my death-dealers. Understand?”

  Tucci nodded. “If you kill me, I will either go to Moranton or return back to the Grey Path. Death here is different, to die means starting one’s journey again. This is eternity and there’s no escaping one’s fate.”

  “You remember this, boy,” hissed Dax. “I will hunt you for eternity. You will learn a new meaning of hell—my hell.”

  ***

  The men rested during the day and Captain Jamie briefed his axe-wielders on the plan. The men changed; they now had a mission. They prepared their weapons for the attack. A grim determined look returned to the men’s eyes. They now had an enemy to fight and would be doing what they were trained to do; fight an enemy in hand-to-hand combat, and these warriors excelled at it. When the strange colourless dusk descended on the mountain, the men started to wind their way around to the tunnel’s entrance.

  The axe-wielders surrounded the clearing in front of the tunnel entrance. Dax, Zane, and Captain Jamie looked towards the tunnel to determine how many Keepers were on guard. They estimated there were ten to twelve around the entrance, but could not tell how many lurked inside the dark tunnel. Tanas and Thade waited farther back as they had been given the duty of guarding Tucci.

  Dax turned to Captain Jamie and nodded. Captain Jamie smiled at the warrior. For the first time, he was to directly serve his liege. Pride swelled inside him and he gazed at his men; they all looked strong and ready. He held up his fist, peered at the tunnel entrance, and paused. He pointed towards the tunnel entrance. The edge of the clearing seemed to move when all of the axe-wielders rose in unison and slowly marched across the open ground towards the tunnel mouth.

  ***

  Kriss reached his clan and informed his chieftain of the army marching their way. Without hesitation, the clan chieftain gave the order to dismantle the camp. He ordered Kriss to ride ahead to Kal-Pharina and inform the Chosen that the army approached. He was not to stop but head straight to the white palace. If he passed any clans, he should inform them to break camp and head towards the white city. The chieftain told Kriss he would look after his belongings as though they were his own.

  Kriss replenished his supplies, got a fresh mount, and rode off, heading for the white city.

  ***

  Inside the white palace at Kal-Pharina, Ireen stood on her balcony, gazing over the city. She did not hear Megan enter the room, nor did she hear Megan walk out on the balcony to stand next to her.

  “Lost in thought?” asked the Rhaurn.

  Ireen clasped her chest in shock. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Sorry, I did knock.”

  “I was thinking,” admitted Ireen softly.

  “Thinking of Thade?”

  Ireen turned to Megan and smiled coyly. “Am I that transparent? Yes, I was thinking of Thade, wondering where he was and if he was safe.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about him, he’ll be fine and here for you soon, just wait and see. Wherever he is, he’s probably thinking about you.”

  “Are you worried about Tanas?” asked Ireen.

  Megan thought for a heartbeat. “I miss Tanas sorely, but I know he can take care of himself. I do worry but I know he’ll be here soon. He promised and he’ll be here.”

  The two women stood on the balcony in silence. “I’m worried about my people,” said Ireen suddenly.

  “Your father has everything under control.”

  “Our father,” corrected Ireen firmly.

  “Yes, our father has everything under control. Zane and the others will arrive here soon. That I believe, and when they do, nothing can stand before them.”

  “I believe that too, but the not knowing is gnawing at me.”

  “Don’t worry, my sister, everything will be fine,” said Megan with confidence.

  Ireen turned to face her adopted sister and the two women embraced. In that act of affection, they gained strength from one another.

  They would survive; Ireen decided they would.

  ***

  One company of one hundred axe-wielders calmly and confidently crossed the open ground. The others remained, lining the edge of the clearing, primed and ready to aid their comrades should they be needed. The first company of men moved towards the tunnel entrance as a unit; nothing would stop them. Each man held his axe before him, prepared for whatever they faced.

  One of the Keepers turned and saw the men marching slowly towards him. It seemed confused. The Keeper pulled its iron-tipped whip free and stepped backwards. It turned towards its fellow Keepers, but apparently did not speak. However, more Keepers soon gathered at the entrance of the tunnel, to face the Rhaurns.

  The axe-wielders heavily outnumbered the Keepers and kept marching forward at a steady pace. They did this for two reasons. The first was to maintain the formation; the second, they had time to change if something unexpected emerged from the dark tunnel. Nothing did. The gap closed and the axe-wielders brought their axes to bear, ready to strike.

  Captain Jamie held up his fist, some fifteen strides away from the Keepers. The company of men halted. Twenty Keepers waited silently before them.

  “Drop your weapons and we will let you go,” shouted Captain Jamie, his gravelly voice strong.

  The Keepers’ response was silence. Then they uncurled their whips. The Keeper in the centre flicked its arm and a whip slashed through the air, cracking noisily above the axe-wielders’ heads.

  “I take it that means your answer is no.” Captain Jamie pulled his clenched fist down sharply. This was the command to attack. Without hesitation, the axe-wielders charged forward. The Keepers’ whips struck out like coiled snakes, striking and deeply cutting the men. The first few axe-wielders bore vicious cuts. In one instance, the iron tip slashed a warrior through his neck, killing its victim. But the
axe-wielders’ charge quickly overpowered the Keepers, and soon the soldiers were cutting and chopping the robed creatures. There was no blood. When the Keepers were struck with a killing blow, their robes would fall to the ground and the creatures simply vanished, leaving only a pile of dry grey dust under their robes.

  No sooner had it started, the fighting was over. The axe-wielders swiftly gained control of the tunnel entrance and the others moved forward warily.

  At the rear, Tanas and Thade brought Tucci forward.

  “We have done our bit, we’re in the mines. Now it’s up to you, boy. And remember what I told you,” hissed Dax menacingly.

  Tucci swallowed hard when he looked into the old warrior’s violet eyes. “We need torches, there’s a store of them on the left just inside the tunnel.”

  Captain Jamie ordered several axe-wielders to get torches and ropes.

  Dax stopped and turned in the mouth of the cave. He called back to one of the axe-wielders. “Bring those robes, they may come in useful later.”

  “Yes sir.” The axe-wielder gathered several robes that were not too badly ripped, then he raced into the tunnel with the clothing tucked under his arm.

  The men entered the Mines of Moranton.

  ***

  A Keeper, about to relieve its companion, saw the men attack its brother. The Keeper stalked back deep into the tunnels and there watched the carnage. Then it moved farther back into the blackness. When the Keeper thought it was safe, it dropped to one knee and concentrated.

  ***

  The Dark One felt happier; the Dread were crossing the Steppes and the arid land was much more to his liking. The journey had been uneventful so far for the Dread and he felt his army’s lust for blood growing. He could feel their yearning as much as he yearned for blood. The Dark One rode next to Malice with his hand on the hilt of the Blade of Yallas. He turned to face the warrior and smiled inside his helm. The man had been loyal to the him since the beginning. Apart from Naats Flureic, Malice was the closest being the Dark One had to a friend. But friendship was not something the Dark One wanted. He wanted—he demanded—total obedience. Just then the black crystal on the Blade of Yallas started to throb with heat. The Dark One looked down at the sword hilt, then turned to Malice. “I need to stop for a while.”