Malek shook his head, embarrassed all the more so by his friend’s gentle look of growing concern, even as he lost himself in his silly fantasy of a desire that could never be. “I’m well, dear Latif. First good night’s sleep I've had in quite awhile, in fact. And with such fine fare you have brought us, I shall eat quite well, thanks to you.”
Latif gave an approving nod. If he sensed even a hint of Malek’s helpless infatuation, he was graceful enough not to show any sign of it. “I am glad to hear that. Eat hearty, my friend, for I sense that today our adventure truly starts.”
"Damn right, boy. Today our adventure starts in earnest!" Alacabar pumped his fist even as he helped himself to a handful of sausage links.
Morlekai's excitement was better controlled, but even Malek could sense the seething hunger radiating from the man's gaze that had nothing to do with food; eyes glimmering a fiery gold in the refracted light, despite his pose of indulgent calm, holding Lucienda close. "Eat well, my friends. For the final pieces of the grand puzzle have come together at last, and we shall soon go forth to discover secrets long lost to the eyes of man; to behold wonders that will become the stuff of legends."
All of them gave a hearty cheer at that, even Latif feeling the excitement, and it was all Malek could do not to gently pull the smiling young man down upon his lap and kiss him gently, passionately, losing himself in the camaraderie and affection they all felt for one another.
A bemused clap on the back broke him out of his reverie, the all too knowing eyes of Alacabar looking into his own. Understanding. Gentle. So at odds with his normal fierce temperament. "Come, pup. Eat hearty, and fret not over treats forbidden. For we go forth upon a grand quest to behold joy and wonder the likes of which no man has seen for centuries!”
Smiling at the shaggy warrior with grateful affection, humbled to have such people who understood and cared for him, Malek did just that. Appetites sated even as their hearts were filled with fierce hope and excitement, the party lost no time in making their way from the grandly appointed inn to the market for necessary purchases and a dearly brought pony, and from there to the outskirts of the capital city, all as efficiently and quickly as they could manage in the bustling crowd. Only once did Malek feel the slightest tug on his cloak, and his dark knowing smile froze the young would-be pickpocket in his act. Features turned pale and panicked as the boy's too thin arms found themselves locked in an unbreakable vice. Malek gave a single shake of his head, sensing far more of the panicked boy's mind than he wanted to. He released the lad and flipped him a still warm bread roll, deftly caught with hurried thanks before the boy scampered off at a sprint, knowing better than to tangle with the dark avatars before him, brooding gods striding within his city, the very ground trembling in their wake. Malek smiled at the lad's flight of fancy, having no doubt that the boy will have forgotten all about them by the time the golden sun kissed the far horizon.
They approached the great southern gate in the walled and fortified capital, taking their place in the vast flow of traders, visitors, and noblemen entering and leaving the grand city. The guardsmen gave them nonchalant nods, waving them through with nary a second glance after a double take at their exotic mail and weaponry; their pins marking them as Delvers both explaining their rights to armaments far in excess of the norm, as well as freeing them of the need for inspection, confiscation, or surcharge.
And as soon as they were able to wind their way past the crowded cluster of trade laden wagons and nobly appointed carriages, they stretched out their stride and began to run in earnest at the side of the road, making allowances only for Latif's recently purchased pony. A fine mount, Malek's professional eye allowed. Though the price for the quick purchase had been absurd, at least the seller in equine flesh had been honest about quality, and who would dare otherwise amongst men and women as deadly as Erovering's Delvers were rumored to be, even here?
Rich as hades and free with their coin, but you dare not cheat them on quality or it would be your own head on a pike, Malek's sensitive ears had picked up that phrase more than once that morning as they had made their purchases; fawning merchants bending over backwards to show off their best quality wares, Latif happily taking care of managing their purchases of wax protected rations as well as various dried herbs and other items aligned to the healers' trade. The traders had been all but shivering with mercantile glee as Morlekai's purse seemed to flow with silver, though his gaze made it clear blood would be the price, should any be so foolish as to present him with any ration, packet, or other various and sundry not up to his or Latif's exacting standards.
Eventually the flow of travelers thinned out on the great road, most everyone going at a steady but unhurried rate, secure in the knowledge that the great road linking the capital to the continent, flowing as it was with the lifeblood of trade and noble influence, was patrolled quite regularly by Riskordian cavalry. Those few guardsmen to be seen were no doubt the footmen of various nobles, their finely gilded carriages a marked contrast from the many traders and farmers going about their business at a contented clop, no faster than a farmer's mules chose to drag along a now empty produce cart.
It was only after they had traveled some distance from the capital that they were able to allow Latif's pony a solid canter along the heart of the road, now making far better time than they had before, Malek and his companions easily pacing their newest member, moving with the steady loping stride of wolves ready and able to maintain their pace, near effortlessly, for countless hours, till high noon had at last welcomed them with a day as warm as any Erovering autumn, and Morlekai with a single glance made it clear that now was the time to break their fast. They enjoyed a quick meal of cheese and sausage saved from the inn, even as they gazed speculatively at the highest peak of the broken range that marked the boundary between Riskord and her southern neighbors.
“How long a journey, do you think? Alacabar asked offhandedly, drinking deep of the crystal clear stream at the edge of their impromptu campsite.
Morlekai shrugged. “With the pony, I would say at least three days to get to the mountain range without wrecking her for good.”
Malek frowned. From what he recalled from his studies at Highrock, that distant range was at least a week's journey away.
Alacabar nodded. “And we’ll still need her to carry Latif up as high as she’ll take us.
Latif followed their gazes towards the majestic snow-capped mountains surrounded by billowing clouds so very far away. "And that entire mountain range is the source of the Regio we shall enter?" His voice was somewhat breathless, filled with a quiet awe.
Morlekai smiled. “Only as we ascend those slopes will we get close to our goal, lad. It is the top peak of that range which miners and travelers once visited far more frequently than they do now, few aware of its resonance with higher realms, despite the stories of the odd traveler going missing, or the doomed mining party never returning from their excavation, mystified fellows looking desperately for their friends the next day, to see nary hair nor hide.”
“Hence why Riskord no longer bothers to mine the iron within,” Lucienda explained, beautiful grey eyes contemplating the majesty of the vast mountain range still days away. “The cost became prohibitive with the hazard fees the miners guild was charging, and as there are other, far less perilous sources of iron to be found elsewhere, the mines of that range were eventually all but abandoned.”
Morlekai nodded. “True. Drink up and refill your flasks, my friends. We shall stay along the main road and make good time, I suspect, though tomorrow we may have to trek through smaller roads before we are at the foot of the range.”
Malek gazed speculatively at the grand mountain range, and then back towards the capital, fancying he had caught a flash of light reflecting of a body of water some distance away. “Come to think of it, Morlekai, that range is as much west as it is south of us, and if I remember my geography, there is a town by the major river along that range specializing in ferrying the ore back
towards the capital.”
"A good observation, Malek," Morlekai allowed. "Indeed there is a river that runs straight to the harbor of the capital, about a mile to our right. A favored route for transporting people and goods to and from Riskordia. Did I not think we would make better time than a boat going upstream, we would be sailing up that river even now."
"Well, no time like the present. Let's get a move on." Alacabar immediately began to set the pace, and Malek was happy to feel the miles fly behind them, relishing in the exhilaration of the run, breathing deep of air that smelled more of autumn than winter, already warmer than Erovering's deadly chill, separated by a mountain range and graced with the warm midwinter winds coming inland that the ship captain had mentioned.
When they set up camp that night, a hushed excitement permeated the encampment, everyone looking forward to the day to come. When Malek asked Latif if they had pushed his mount too hard with their pace, Latif smiled and waved away Malek's concern, assuring that his mare would be fine. And sure enough, the next day his pony looked as refreshed as the moment they had purchased her, Latif chuckling but not denying it when Lucienda wondered aloud if his talents had something to do with his pony's remarkable stamina.
"Perhaps just a tad, my lady. Warped my gifts have become such that the Healers Guild considers me a sadly broken creature, but in terms of infusing vigor or healing the wounds of Shadow, I believe I am second to none."
"Then for us, you are the most preeminent of all healers, dear Latif," Lucienda's sensual voice assured, smiling at his delighted blush even as they made their way once more toward the majestic mountain range many miles southwest. They had separated from the other traders and carriages flowing south to such an extent that fellow travelers were few and far between, though their reaction when Morlekai's band raced towards them was always the same. Eyes widening with surprise, the sharp stench of their fear washed over Malek as he and his friends darted past the terrified travelers, then relieved gasps and whispers of 'mad Delvers' when they thought Morlekai's group safely in the distance.
Malek couldn't deny the excited awe coursing through him, heart racing despite the subtle sense of misgiving he felt. They had met hardly a soul once they had left the main road, and Malek was strangely certain that their time had only improved even as they lost themselves in their loping run, like wolves simply absorbing the scenery, slowly chasing down their prey, the hours melting away to nothing as evening bled to darkest night, a camp established without a word being said, Malek setting up his bloodwards on pure instinct, all five of them dropping into deepest sleep.
As sunset painted the sky a brilliant patina of crimson and gold by the end of the third day of their journey, they found themselves at the foothills of the mountain range at last, their eyes instinctively fastening upon the highest peak, and only then did Malek feel himself slipping free of his strange reverie, suddenly famished, realizing none of them had bothered with a bite to eat all day, merely drinking deep of whatever ice cold streams they had passed in their loping run.
Latif quickly rectified the matter of their growling bellies with wax covered rations passed all around.
"Truly, she's a wonder!" Alacabar declared as they looked up towards the vast wood-covered slopes of birch and pine that abruptly turned to grass and, higher still, a majestic snow-topped summit that sparkled brilliantly against the crimson backdrop of the setting sun.
Latif was smiling and nodding in accord before he suddenly paled, blinking, looking about him, the face of a man waking from a daze, unable to comprehend what was before him.
“Latif?” Malek squeezed the trembling healer's shoulders, seeking to reassure him. Frightened eyes smiled into his own.
"It is all right, friend Malek. I just realized, I think, that, well, we have traveled well over three hundred miles. In less than three days."
Malek gave a slow nod, taking in the full gravity of their surroundings. "I have a fair head for geography as well, having done a study of the interior of this continent, the major geographical landmarks anyway, for reasons best not worried about now." He took a deep breath. "Three hundred and fifty miles, or thereabouts, but yes, we made good time. Damn good time."
Latif shook his head. "Malek, that is incredible time for a three-day journey by pony, even if my own magics were, well, infusing her just a bit. And you four were running for the entirety of our trip, in full armor, and entirely cross-country for the past day!"
Malek smiled and shrugged. “I suspect we were lost in a Delver's daze of sorts.”
"But my pony! By the gods, Malek, I'm surprised she isn't completely lame, even with my gifts. And how did Morlekai know? Come to think of it, he implied it would be a three-day journey. And it was, even though by rights it should have taken at least a week if not days longer, as no horse should be forced across rugged country at a gallop."
Malek took a look at Latif's restive mount, suddenly uncomfortable with his attention, as if it had caught the gaze of a predator, yet Malek's experienced eyes saw a mount as fit as any rider could want. "I don't know, Latif. She looks to be in good health and as content as any horse can be around four Delvers. Perhaps you strengthened her with your own gifts far more than you realized, even as we all lost ourselves to that run."
“Indeed you did.” Morlekai's voice. Quiet. Solemn. “You have more potential than you realize, Latif, and your mount is fine. That is all that matters. That and the adventure ahead. Rest well, my friends. Let us do our best to prepare for the trials that await us.”
But as to what those trials were exactly, Morlekai simply flashed his most enigmatic smile, refusing to say a word. “Get to sleep, Hound. All your questions will be answered upon the morrow. Certain puzzles are best solved by instinct, lad, and your role will become apparent when the time is right.”
Malek grimaced but didn't argue with his leader, merely sighing and getting comfortable by the welcome campfire, checking the thick soles of his boots and relacing his footwear as was Alacabar, but not before casting protective bloodwards in place, on the off chance any fell creature should think to enter their campsite. Shoes relaced and camp secure, Malek allowed himself to drift off into peaceful slumber, soothed both by the crackle of the campfire and the refreshing scent of pine-laden air.
43
He heard a scream. It cut through the still night air. Malek bolted upright, throwing off his woolen blanket, blinking in confusion, only then realizing that the hoarse cry had been his own.
“Bloody hells, boy! What’s got your panties in a knot?”
Malek grimaced apologetically at his irked looking red-haired companion. "My apologies, Alacabar. It was the dream."
“Blast and damnation! That dream still has you in its clutches?” Alacabar gave a pitying shake of his head. “Fret not, lad. Let it grab ahold of your soul no more than it has already. You yourself checked out that textile hall and found naught amiss, yes? So it is just the specter of your own fears and regrets, nothing more than that.”
Malek blinked. "You knew about that?" Before grinning sheepishly, his friend's expression making it clear as day that of course his band knew about his midnight ramble the other night, how could they not? No doubt sensed it from him, linked as they sometimes were, body and soul, assuming Lucienda hadn't followed him herself.
“Silly question, boy. As I said, you found naught amiss, and last night you slept deep as any babe. So rest. Rest as well as you can. For there is nothing to be done in any case, save find that which we have fought so hard to seek out, to return home as valiant heroes, with wonder in our hearts, tales to share, and gold fit to fill the Guild’s vaults to bursting!”
Malek took a deep, shuddering breath. The terrified screams still echoed through him. Even being awake and in the moment did little to blunt the helpless turmoil he felt, haunted by those desperate, pleading eyes. "Something wasn't right, Alacabar. I don't know what, exactly. I don't know why I feel this way. I only know that something was wrong with that textile hall."
“Then we will investigate it.”
Alacabar's fierce gaze locked upon Malek's own. “We will search it top to bottom if it puts your heart at ease, little wolf. But for now, upon this day, as we stand upon the cusp of greatness and wonder, let us focus all our resources and resolve to uncovering that divine sparkle which will ease all our souls. The horn, my young friend. The Horn of the Heavenly Host, and its promise, wondrous and dreadful both. Let us recover that divine artifact. Let us put that piece into play. A piece that will shake the board like no other, send so many ivory towers crashing to the ground, along with any damned fool thinking to build his empire upon the backs of indentured men, whether with fields of crops or a forest of spears. We will bring those arrogant bastards to their knees. And we shall change the face of the world, in ways we can't even fathom.”
Malek shivered with subtle rapture, the very mention of that divine fragment of the Heavens soon being within their grasp sent all his anxieties and doubts fleeing.
Infused with a renewed sense of purpose and focus, Malek gave a resolute nod. "Very well, Alacabar. We shall uncover this artifact in all its glory and wonder. We shall see what path that tool of destiny itself will lead us down. And when we have claimed our prize, let us go back to that textile hall that hides a clever foulness, a quiet rot, and tear it down brick by brick until we uncover all its secrets, no matter how ugly or well-hidden they may be."
Alacabar chuckled with fierce approval. “Done and done, boy. We shall emerge victorious, and buy that hall outright with bribes to council and a fat purse for Lilithon Montid’s hall. It will make a fine location for a new chapter of the Guild, and stronger relations with Riskord as well would not be amiss! I am quite sure the Council of Guildmasters will approve as well, particularly since it will be paid for with our own coin.”
Gods of Shadow and Flame Page 49