BlackThorn's Doom (11 page)

Casius’s eyes narrowed and his hand slipped into his cloak coming to rest upon Aethir’s warm hilt.

Connell grabbed his elbow and hissed a warning. “Do nothing, lest you doom us all!”

Casius stood at the brink of violence for a few breaths. Coming to grips with his rage he let his hand fall from his blade. He knew Connell was right, freeing the world of Sur’kar would free those men, not an attack that was doomed to failure.

Connell relaxed and turned his friend about. “They will pay.” He said softly, his eyes burning with wrath. “When the time is right.”

Marcos put his fingers to his lips and pulled them around the corner of the building. A gate swung open across the lane and a force of several hundred Morne marched out. They turned sharply to the right and moved towards the town’s center.

Casius breathed a sigh of relief as the gate was closed. “We are blessed to have your ears with us Marcos.” Casius said once he got his beating heart under control.

“Boldness has gotten us this far,” Yoladt said peeking around the buildings corner to watch the Morne depart. “Perhaps it is time for stealth.”

“There is but one path into Trothgar.” Marcos said with a nod to the dark opening. “Once upon the causeway our enemies eyes will be upon us. I’m afraid that there is no other way before us.”

Suni looked to the gate. “The gate of skulls is warded, Connell.” He said with an uncharacteristic touch of excitement in his voice. “Grel’in bar the entry.” He turned and faced Connell. “They are a foe for which I have prepared all my life to face. You have never faced one in combat, pray that you never do.”

“He’s right Connell.” Marcos said. “They will not see a threat if one man approaches, this may give Suni the edge he needs to overcome them.”

Connell studied the black opening. Within the darkness he could see the massive iron gates standing open. Beyond them lay a long tunnel whose walls danced with the reflected light from the fires within the calderas.

Before the gate stood three warriors dressed in dark chain mail. The red plumes upon their helms a warning to all, Grel’in hold the gate. Each of the guardians bore a small buckler upon his left arm while the cold fingers of their right hands rested lightly upon the sheathed broadswords at their hips.

Connell began to move when Marcos gripped his shoulder, stopping him. “He is Anghor Shok,” Marcos reminded him. “Your presence will only increase his danger.”

“It will be three to one,” Connell whispered harshly. “He is going to get himself killed.”

“Perhaps,” Marcos answered softly. “But would you insult Suni? He has trained for this his entire life. Do not underestimate him. Watch and learn what the fabled warriors of Anghor are capable of.”

Mixed emotions raced across Connell’s features. He was both angry and concerned for his companion’s safety. It went against his very nature to allow another to take such risks alone.

Yet he had learned to trust Marcos. The Tal’shear was filled with much wisdom. Besides he knew to rush out to join Suni now would only serve to alert the guardians that something was afoot. He only prayed Suni was up to the task.

Suni strode boldly up the causeway. He kept his head lowered hiding his features within the darkness of his hood. Occasionally he would lift his head slightly to check on the positions of the unsuspecting Grel’in.

An odd feeling swelled within his breast, it was excitement. A sensation he had not felt since his early days within the temple. He grunted and forced the emotion aside. He knew that he would need the calmness of a master to succeed here. Halfway towards the gate his breathing slowed as decades of practiced discipline took hold.

Goron Taul watched the lone Morne warrior approach through eyes that were no longer his own. The lunatic ravings of his tortured spirit faded as a thin shred of his remaining sanity returned. There was something familiar about the way the man moved, hinting at a memory from centuries long since past.

His captor became aware of his sudden lucidity and lashed out, dark tendrils of power sought to crush what remained of his soul.

Goron recoiled and fled back to the sanctuary deep within his mind. It was the one place where the usurper of his body could not reach him. Dark power slammed against the walls about him but failed to breach the core of his being. They had shared several millennia together and Goron had learned to evade the worst of his captors might. He felt his sanity slipping away as the faint stirrings of hope swelled within him. The last time he had ever seen a man move like that it was long ago as he fought on the very plain that this mountain stood upon.

He had watched in awe as the Anghor Shok jealously protected their Tal’shear wards.

A surge of anger filled him as he remembered the foul deeds he was forced to witness. Watching helplessly as his body was taken from him and he turned upon his friends in combat slaying many of the men he had sworn to protect.

Lashing out with a strength fueled by his anger he struck the demon with all the strength he possessed. The demon laughed at his weakness and struck back.

Dark power burned into him fraying what remained of his sanity. Gibbering in pain and fear he retreated into the darkness, his mind all but destroyed. All the while his body stood motionless before the gate, no hint of the internal struggle visible to the outside world.

Suni drew nearer, the guards watching him with unblinking eyes that burned within the shadows of their plumed helms.

Suni stepped off the causeway and onto the rough stone of the tunnels floor. The gate stood before him, the thick black iron plates of its construction gleamed wetly in the darkness. Countless spikes adorned its surface. Impaled upon them were thousands of skulls. Most yellowed with age but there were more than a few that still held tatters of rotting flesh clinging to them.

Suni took all this in with one quick glance. The Grel’in now stepped forward blocking any further progress on his part. “Veh tok amanu!” One of the Grel’in growled threateningly his corpse white hand drawing his blade slightly from its scabbard.

Suni understood the foul language, it was taught him long ago during his early years within the temple. “It is forbidden.” The grim figure had said.

Suni spun into the warrior’s chest. His left armed pinned in the Grellin’s grip. His right hand shot upward his fingers extended their tips touching. Into the visor they plunged, driving through the left eye. Flesh ripped and bone splintered. Suni yanked his hand free, blood and bits of brain splattered onto the dark stone. The Grip upon his arm released as the Grel’in fell backwards dead before striking the stone.

Suni spun away towards the startled guards. He lashed out with his left foot, sweeping the feet out from under the closest of the two. Leaping over the fallen warrior he dove towards the Grel’in yet standing.

The possessed warrior stepped back, surprised at the speed of the man. His sword was only half drawn when Suni’s fist delivered a powerful blow into his throat.

The force of the strike crushed his windpipe and broke his neck in two places. The Grel’in died quickly, a surprised look upon his withered face.

Suni continued his dive, rolling as he struck the ground he was on his feet in an instant. His hands dipped within the Morne cloak withdrawing his Kalmari in a sweeping motion. He turned to face the remaining warrior who was now on his feet with his sword drawn.

The Grel’in spared a glance to his fallen companions. For the first time in his many millennia long existence he felt the metallic taste of fear. The Grel’in believed that they were invincible, yet before him stood a mere man who had slain two of the Dark Lords most powerful warriors. He had accomplished this with his bare hands no less.

Many generations past his host had been a formidable warrior in his own right. The Grel’in drew upon the fighting skills of his host.
HH

Blow after blow the Grel’in threw at the man, his sword striking nothing but empty air. The human was quick with an agility that amazed the Grel’in, Always staying one step of him.

The Grel’in’s blade rang shrilly, striking the stone in a spray of sparks. Suni stomped on the flat of the blade and struck the Grel’in’s helm a powerful blow with his Kalmari. The Helm was dented badly, the Grel’in’s skull fractured in several places.

The Grel’in was knocked off balance and fell forward. Suni struck the guardian twice more across the back of his helm. The black spirit within the man’s body screamed in rage as the life upon which it had fed for ages winked out. With its hosts death the possessor too felt the touch of death’s cold hand.

Suni returned the Kalmari to his belt and stepped through the gate to ensure that the way ahead was clear.

Chapter Nine

Suni stood looking down the long rough-hewn tunnel. The walls pulsating with reflected light from the calderas. At the tunnels end stood the iron bridge that spanned the molten stone lake known as the Magmal. Perched upon a dark isle of glassy stone stood Sur’kar’s tower, a massive construct of dark stone and iron rising high above the roiling fire and lava.

Suni turned his back to the dreaded edifice and raised his arm, signaling the others to join him.

The ground shook violently and a deafening roar filled the tunnel. Suni looked over his shoulder; the entire calderas had filled with fire and upwelling lava. Only a faint shimmering wall of power protected the tower, bridge and tunnel from the hellish heat.

Suni drug the bodies of the slain Grel’in behind the gate, hiding them in the shadows. By the time he had finished the others had joined him at the entry.

The eruption was still occurring when they reached the tunnels end. Flashes of light flickered where the lava was held back by arcane power.

Marcos looked at his hesitant companions. “It is safe to cross.” He said reassuringly. “Sur’kar has bound his power to the metal and it protects the way ahead. It will hold as long as he lives.”

Casius looked at the violently churning flame. “And when we kill him? What Happens then?”

“The protection will fail.” Marcos answered. “It will not end suddenly, it will last weeks before the volcano reclaims the tower and bridge, eventually even the town beyond will fall.”

Casius breathed a sigh of relief, his concerns about being trapped within the tower somewhat abated by Marcos’s statement.

Out onto the bridge they ventured. It was three hundred feet long and fifty feet wide. The iron plates rang dully with each footfall. It spanned the molten stone in a graceful arc, without railings or visible supports of any kind. A ribbon of blackened metal that looked far to weak to hold its own weight let alone any who would dare cross it.

“Amazing,” Yoladt said in awe as they drew near the middle of the span. “We should be dying from the heat of this place.”

“Should the wards fail we would burst into flame and the metal upon our persons would flow like water.” Marcos added motioning for Yoladt to keep moving.

They stepped from the span and entered a courtyard surrounded by a low wall on three sides. Before them stood the tower, dark and foreboding devoid of windows and doorways, a bleak construct rising high into the ash-laden air.

“We’ve come a long way for naught.” Casius stated looking up at the blank wall before them. “No doors or windows, how do we get in?”

“But there is a door, Casius.” Marcos said stepping forward and placing his palm upon the icy surface. He winced at the contact and stepped back as fiery red tendrils of light formed the outline of a doorway. “If one knows where to look.”

Connell stepped back and drew his sword as the double door swung soundlessly inward. Casius grasped Aethir’s hilt but Marcos’s stayed his hand.

With a slight frown into the gloom beyond the doorway he drew his own blade. “At times such as these a few precautions are wise.” With a nod he sent Suni into the tower.

Smiling at Casius he followed the warrior into the darkness.

Connell held Casius back until Yoladt had passed through the entry. “Stay close,” He whispered before stepping across the threshold.