by F M Andrews
Without thought, Lutex rushed over to him and swept him up in a smothering hug, burying his face in the soft, earthy smelling fur. For a moment a quiet rumbling emanated from his friend but then it all got too much for the cat and he leapt down to the ground and began to lick frantically. Lutex smiled and asked gently, “What took you so long? I was worried.”
“Many men in forest. Wanted to see where they were going,” Tubble answered in an offhand way, concentrating on a particularly sticky bit of fur on his tail.
Brack was puzzled. “Maybe it is the king’s hunting party. What did they look like?”
Tubble projected a picture of a column of armed trolls crashing through the undergrowth, leaving a swath of destruction behind them. To Lutex they looked like just another clan of troll; however, to Brack they were something entirely different. He gasped and sat down heavily, shaking his head in defeat. “This is bad. This is very bad.”
Lutex and Tubble looked on silently, waiting for an explanation.
“They are the Krax warrior cast. They must have crept across the border and are now heading towards Haktara. They have probably found out that our defence is weakened and that we have lost most of our fighting men to the portal. This reeks of Zail.” Brack leapt to his feet. “We have to warn the town. They will never suspect an attack to come from the forest and they will be easy pickings. The only chance they have is if they can seal the gates and prepare to defend their walls before the Krax arrive.” Slinging his pack over his shoulder he began to run, leaving the boy and cat scrambling to catch up.
It was a long, exhausting day but, as they topped a small rise, Haktara came into view, lit by the soft evening light from the final rays of sun that shot low across the open fields. Lutex and Brack both bent forward, hands on knees, breathing heavily, staring at the small walled city before them. It was really quite pretty, Lutex thought, made from warm yellow stone and built on a small symmetrically round hill. The large stone wall that surrounded it was reflected in a wide moat that ran its entire length. The deep waterway could only be crossed by a single drawbridge leading to an impressive arched gateway.
The city’s buildings perched one above the other up the hill, and a huge, ornate castle sat like a crown on the very top. All appeared peaceful, almost sleepy. An overloaded cart, pulled by plodding cattle, rumbled along the stone road towards the archway where a couple of uninterested guards leaned against the tall, open gates, deep in conversation. It was hard to believe that death and destruction was even now bearing down on them, but this thought spurred the trio on. For Lutex it was imperative that he enter the city before it was either overrun or locked down. There was no doubt now that the Shard was inside the walls; he could feel the irresistible force it exerted on him like a chain attached to his heart being inexorably winched in. He could not afford to be shut outside. They raced down the hill and up the road, finally clattering across the drawbridge and into the shadow cast by the immense, towering walls that looked so much more intimidating up close.
Panting, they stopped in front of the guards. Lutex kept well back, hood up and head down. Tubble was invisible. Brack strode up to the guards, gesturing and speaking urgently in his own, guttural language. At first the guards scoffed and laughed as if Brack was telling them a really good joke but eventually they became more serious until, finally, it came to the stage where one of them drew his sword and pointed it just under Brack’s chin. This was not going well. Lutex shuffled up to Brack, making sure to keep his head down, and grabbed his hand to try and find out just what was happening.
“These fools think I am lying, making it all up, and they want to throw me in the dungeons for trespassing in the king's forest,” Brack raged to Lutex silently.
Holding Brack’s hand, Lutex could now listen in on the conversation. Brack took a step away from the sharp sword tip. “At least bring up the bridge and close the gates. It is nearly sunset now anyway,” he pleaded.
“We have not taken up this bridge for as long as I can remember and we will not be taking orders from a lying, young sprat,” the guard spat, stepping to close the distance between his blade and Brack’s neck once again.
Brack braced himself and tried a different tack. “Think about it, what is the worst that can happen if you do fortify the city? A few inconvenienced people. But just imagine the trouble you will be in if what I say is true and you are invaded this night and you had not heeded my warning!” Both the guards looked a little less certain, a little less confidant, and their eyes began to dart towards the forest, a dark shadow several stone throw's away. Brack sensed he was making progress. “Come on! What possible reason would I have to tell you lies?” he was pleading now.
The guard’s sword tip had dropped a fraction while his other hand stroked his chin in contemplation. “He has a point, Olin.”
Olin was still staring at the forest’s edge, assessing the situation. Suddenly he stiffened and pointed. “Did you see that?” he asked, not taking his eyes off a spot under the forest eave. As one, they turned and scrutinised the spot he was pointing to. Several small shadows, darker than the rest, moved quickly towards the road. “Drop the portcullis, close the gates and raise the bridge!” Olin shouted to the towers above. His fellow guard raced towards a lever and chain arrangement just inside the gate. It was rusted through lack of use and refused to budge. The guard was straining hard to pull it. Brack ran across and added his weight, but still it did not move.
The dark, ominous shadows were growing in number and size as the Krax sped towards the gate. They must have heard the guards call to seal the city and the race was on. Lutex watched in horror as the front runners came sprinting down the road. The low evening light reflected off well-honed weapons held aloft, metal studs in leather armour and grotesque polished helmets. They were not going to get the gate closed in time! Lutex felt helpless, what could he possibly do? Frantically he looked back at Brack and the guard who were still struggling. Maybe he could just give the lever a little shove. It might do nothing, but he had to try. Blocking out the sound of pounding feet and shouted orders he concentrated on gathering as much power as he could and threw it at the offending leaver. With a squeal it released and the huge iron portcullis slammed down from above. The boom it made was almost lost in the clanking of chains and the creaking of wood as the drawbridge rose in front of it and finally the gates clanged shut behind that. A triple barrier. Quite a neat arrangement, Lutex thought absently as he let go of a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding.
Loud alarm bells were ringing now, orders were being shouted and the rhythmic thump of boots on cobblestone echoed off the walls. Files of hastily dressed trolls ascended the walls, quivers full of arrows, bows slung over their shoulders. All the trolls Lutex could see were the same as Brack. “Where are the warrior class that fought in Feld?” he asked Brack.
“They do not live in the cities,” Brack answered. “They have their own camps. They are mobile and go where they are needed. With a bit of luck, there might be a camp nearby. If there is, and if the King can get a message out to them, they will come and fight.” Lutex noticed that there were a lot of ‘ifs’ in that statement.
Looking out at the scene before him from the relative safety of the shadows, Lutex saw that along the inside of the wall, chains ran from the top to pulleys at the bottom at regular intervals and as he watched the reason for these became clear. A troupe of four burly trolls raced up to one of the pulleys and began a well-rehearsed manoeuvre, each taking turns at pulling down hard on the chain. Nothing appeared to be happening but a loud creaking from above made him look up to see a huge wooden trap door opening on top of the wall and a catapult like machine raising up into position. A cart rattled down the road and a bag of large, round stones was dropped off next to the pulley gang. Once the catapult was securely in place, the chain was detached and used instead to pull the bag of rocks up to the top of the wall. The smell of granite dust and sweat hung heavy in the air.
In all this
confusion Brack and Lutex were almost forgotten, and they were just about to slip away when Olin spotted them. “Oh no, you don’t!” he called, suddenly making them the focus of all in the vicinity. “I think the King will be very interested in anything you might be able to tell him about ‘our friends’ out there,” he said pointing in the general direction of the world beyond the wall. “Fringal, take them to the castle, and don’t get lost this time.” This must have been an old joke because it only solicited a few wry grins from the surrounding trolls. A young troll, who looked a bit nervous, detached himself from the rest and came over to Brack. Lutex wondered if Olin had given Fringal this task to ensure he was well away from the conflict that was about to erupt.
Despite Olin’s comment, Fringal proved to be a good guide, although not one given to talk, and the first stars were only just beginning to appear in the sky overhead when they finally walked through the cavernous castle foyer. For Lutex, the journey through the city had been a blur full of unfamiliar sights, sounds and smells. The lower level was full of life that spilled out into the twisting, cobbled lanes that wound through two-storied houses, pressed cheek to jowl. The alarm bells had everyone out in the streets trying to find out what was happening but the throng had automatically made a path for Fringal to pass through. As they climbed higher the roads became wider, with separated houses and gardens and further up still they came to an avenue through a green space dotted with trees that Brack said was the King’s gardens, although everyone was allowed to use it. Finally as they came to the top of the hill the huge palisade of the castle came into view.
The one thing that had been a constant since they had entered the city was the increasing pull of the shard. The closer they came to the castle the greater the pull. Somewhere up there was the object of Lutex’s search, and his pulse quickened with anticipation. He was so distracted by it that he hadn’t even noticed what Fringal had said to the castle guard at the gate but whatever it was must have been enough to have them escorted swiftly to a plush room deep inside the castle itself where they were to wait for the King to call them.
And wait they did. Time passed slowly. Brack paced the length of the room for the hundredth time unable to sit still as Lutex quietly scratched Tubble’s invisible ears, hoping the guard by the door would not notice his strange behaviour. It must look like he was just waving his fingers in the air. He found it hard to stop himself staring at the doors that lead to the throne room because he knew, with every fibre of his being, that just beyond them was the shard.
A servant came round to light the lamps, release the heavy drapes and light the fire. And still they waited. Lutex was hungry. Searching in his pack he found the last of the apples and handed one over to Brack as he passed by. He accepted it gratefully and finally sat down next to Lutex to eat it. And still they waited. Eventually, just as they had thrown their cores into the fire, the ornate doors at the end of the room swung open and a well-dressed courtier entered, looked disdainfully down his nose at them, sniffed and proclaimed that the King would see them now.
“Bow when you enter and do not speak until asked to,” he said in a bored voice, turning his back on them and heading towards those imposing doors. Lutex grabbed Brack’s hand and they followed the troll’s receding back. They had nearly reached the door when he turned back to face them, sniffed once more and addressed Brack. “And the boy needs to take off his hood.”
Lutex felt a prickle of panic. Without his hood he would easily be spotted as one of those ‘evil baby eaters.’ Brack squeezed his hand in reassurance and sidled up close to the contemptuous courtier as if he was going to share a juicy secret and whispered quite loudly.
“Much as it embarrasses me to say it, the boy has nits. It is probably best to keep his head covered whilst he is in castle as they are a really nasty, contagious variety and the hood seems to be the only way to stop them jumping off onto other people.”
The courtier shot a disgusted look at Lutex, shivered, and nodded once. Lutex let out a sigh of relief, giving his head a frantic scratch for good measure.
With a flourish the courtier pushed the double doors in front of them open to reveal a large cosy room full of trolls, deep in conversation. Most were in some sort of uniform or other. There was a group clustered around a table pointing and gesturing to what Lutex assumed must be a map of some sort and another group huddled near the roaring fire; however, it was the tableau right in front of him that drew his attention. A female[CL24], dressed in a stunning blue velvet gown was standing staring defiantly up at a tall imposing troll, the gold circlet on his brow marking him as the king. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips and her face flushed.
“You cannot make me do this, father!” she said angrily, eyes blazing.
“You will do as you are told, young lady. This is not a game.” The king sounded thoroughly exasperated.
Into the sizzling tension, the disdainful courtier cleared his throat. “Your highness! Presenting the two peasants that were sent from the gates,” he announced, managing to convey the maximum amount of scorn he could in these few words. “Apparently,” he drew this word out as if to cast doubt upon his next statement, “they were the ones who gave the warning.” He finished sniffing one more time for effect.
The king and the young woman turned as one to face them, and Lutex felt the ground sway beneath his feet. A beautiful gem, shaped like a single tear drop, glowing with an inner light was strung on a silver chain, clasped around the woman’s neck. The shard. It was a presence all of its own, a magnetic force that had him firmly in its grip and it took all his concentration to stop himself from staggering across to it. How could the others not feel its powerful essence?
“Brack, she has the shard,” he blurted. “I can’t believe it, we’ve found it. It is here right in front of us!” Brack took an involuntary step backwards staring at the princess but before his odd behaviour was noticed the king unknowingly intervened.
“Thank you, Snot,” he said in a booming voice and Lutex had to pretend to cough to cover his amusement at the stuffy man’s strange name. No wonder he had to pretend to have airs and graces.
“Welcome, and thank you,” the king proclaimed as he strode towards them. “Without your warning I doubt we would have been able to seal the city in time. Knowledge is a powerful thing, is it not my dear?” he boomed. Was it Lutex’s imagination or was there a note of recrimination directed at his daughter in his voice.
“To be able to defeat this enemy we need to know as much as possible about them. Come lad, tell us all you can. How many of them are there, what armament do they have, have they many supplies with them, that sort of thing,” the king prompted guiding Brack and Lutex over towards the crowded table. Lutex could feel Brack communicating with Tubble to get the answers to these questions and tuned out, all his concentration focused on the princess, his heart sinking as the reality of the situation began to hit home.
So far he had been so fixated on finding the shard that he had not really thought about what would happen after that. But, now, faced with the impossible reality he was starting to panic. How was he ever going to persuade a princess to leave her people and come with him, a supposed ‘baby eater,’ to another world? Even if, by some miracle he managed to talk her into coming, there was the small fact that they were also trapped in a siege situation and he was rapidly running out of days before he needed to be back at the pickup point. It was all so unfair, so wrong. Zail was going to win. Evil would triumph after all. For the first time in his short life, Lutex felt utter despair. To come so close, and then to have all his and his friends’ sacrifices count for nothing was almost too much to take.
This, surely, was the end of all hope.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Elarick gasped.
The limbo had been unnerving for them both. For the first time either of them could remember, they could not feel the other's presence. They had been totally alone in the dark, floating in the disturbing nothingness. Their arrival had be
en such a relief that the fact they had thumped down hard on the side of a hill and ended up tumbling, in a jumble of limbs and packs to the bottom of the slope, did not bother them at all. Coming to rest on their backs, arms spread wide, fingers touching, they grinned at each other with a mix of relief and excitement, revelling in their closeness. But then a strange thing happened. With a lightning jolt, their minds opened to each other in a startling new way. They could see, or rather hear, every thought the other was thinking. Each of course experienced wild, excited surprise. It was truly overwhelming. Too overwhelming. They let go their hands, but it made no difference. Both girls put their hands over their ears in an automatic reaction to try and block out the noise. Emarick was the first to think of closing her mind. She imagined pulling down the shutters on her thoughts. Immediately Ela saw what she had done, and followed suit. Now, although they could still feel each other's presence, there was silence. “Can you hear this?” Ela tried thinking at Ema, as if she were saying it out loud, without actually saying the words.
“Yes,” Ela mind yelled back, sending an image of herself jumping up and down with excitement.
Both girls fell back on the grass, giggling. This was wonderful. They could say whatever they wanted to each other, and no one else could hear them. They just lay there for a few moments, taking in all the ramifications of this new development. “I think it is easy to use our talent here,” Ema thought and, as one, they reached out for the power. Immediately they were rewarded by a surge, so strong that it threatened to totally engulf them. Instinctively they let go as if it were a hot potato. They were going to have to be careful here; after all, they were still only learning this whole magic thing.
Closing their eyes they gently began to probe their surroundings and instantly they felt what could only be called a tug from one direction. The shard. It felt as if it were distant, yet it was a constant and unwavering pull. Both girls sighed with relief. Maybe this wasn’t going to be too difficult after all.