BlackThorn's Doom (28 page)

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Authors: Dewayne M Kunkel

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Epic

BOOK: BlackThorn's Doom
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Casius watched the Morne depart and as they faded from view he allowed the fire within him to cool. The argent light died and the sword grew quiescent. He sheathed Aethir and slowly limped down into the field of bodies.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Casius staggered through the corpses, oblivious to the carnage about him. He felt numb, too many horrors he had seen, and too many friends had died. He wanted nothing more than a hot meal and a full nights rest.

He looked up and was nearly bowled over by Connell. Behind him came D’Yana, Yoladt, and Gaelan. Lord Burcott limped along leading the surviving men in a rousing cheer that rang loudly from the mountains.

Each of his friends embraced him, all of them were filled with questions but they could see the haggard look in his eyes and they decided such talk could wait until after he was rested.

Casius’s eyes were wet with tears of joy. “It does my heart good to see you alive.” He said to them.

Connell slapped his back. “You have done well Casius.” He said a somber look replacing the joy upon his face. “Had I known that you survived the towers collapse I would never have left you in that dark hole.”

Casius gripped his friend’s arm. “I thought you had perished as well.” He said. “But it was not I that survived the fall. Rather something else, it was many days until I returned.”

King Pelatus stepped forward a crude bandage across his shoulder stained red with blood. He removed his helm and bowed to Casius. He lifted his head and gripped Casius’s hand firmly. “I am Pelatus, King of Ao’dan.” He said introducing himself. “Ask anything and if it lies within my power it will be yours.”

Casius was somewhat taken aback by the offer. “You owe me nothing.” He responded.

Burcott laughed at his modesty. “Hah!” He spat slapping Casius’s shoulder. “The whole world owes you boy!”

Yoladt approached slowly his face filled with awe. He came before Casius and fell onto his knees, his face pressed into the earth at Casius’s feet.

Casius pulled him up by his cloak. “I am no King.” He said to his friend, rather embarrassed by the attention he was getting. “Nor do I wish to be treated as one.”

Yoladt avoided his gaze. “You are the one, chosen by Aethir.” He said explaining his actions. “You are Thoron’Gil reborn and our Se’estra has foreseen your victory. It is said among my people that once the sword’s destiny is fulfilled then the bearer of the dark blade will return and lead the Mahjie to new lands beneath a bright sun.”

Casius shook his head. “I am no leader.” He said relaxing his grip on Yoladt’s cloak. “Look about you.” He said indicating the thousands dead Morne with a wave of his hand. “They followed blindly, and look at the price the world has paid.” He smiled at the confused look upon the Mahjie’s face. “The fate of your people lies within their hands. You have a strong leader, follow your Se’estra. Let her lead the Mahjie into the sun.”

“As you wish.” Yoladt said despondently.
King Pelatus looked upon the fallen warriors of his Kingdom. “There are many graves to be dug.”
“It is a grim task.” Connell responded. “A high price for surviving.”

“The dead will keep ‘til tomorrow.” Burcott suggested. “Our honored dead would not mind if the men rest. And if the Morne do?” He spat at his feet. “To Hell with them!”

Gaelan agreed with his advisor. “Have the men stand down, and search for wounded.” He suggested. “But keep a sharp watch, there may be more than a few foul things hovering about.”

The men searched but few were the number of wounded. The Morne were ruthless and left no one who fell whole.

The weary men made a crude camp away from the field of battle. With so many dead about no one wished to remain near. They collapsed in their armor and slept soundly, the time for nightmares would come but not this day.

Casius felt their eyes upon him as he walked about the camp. He knew they thought of him as some kind of hero, but he was not. He was merely a man who had been fortunate to survive many perils.

Casius wandered about the battleground and came to Sur’kar’s corpse. He lifted the dried up husk and started to make his way up the scree to the plateau above.

Connell joined him on the slope. “Casius,” Connell said when he guessed where his friend was heading. “The wood above does take intruders lightly.”

“It will suffer me.” Casius answered, moving upward until he stood upon the escarpments rim.

Connell remained where he was, the feeling of dread coming from the old trees holding him at bay. The sensation was far stronger than before and he was wise enough to know that whatever awaited Casius above was not going to allow him entry.

Casius stopped at the tree line and gave Connell a nod of reassurance before stepping into the deep gloom. He found a broad path amid the trunks. He carried his burden deeper into the trees until he came to a small glade. In its center stood a large slab of dark stone, stained with lichen.

He laid Sur’kar’s body upon it and stepped back. The stone glowed dimly, a soft blue light that did little to illuminate the clearing. Sur’kar’s body sank slowly into the rock. Within moments he was completely gone, the stone entombing him. The ground rumbled and the boulder disappeared into the earth. In its place a young sapling sprouted from the dark earth.

Looking up from the new growth Casius was surprised to see a young man looking at him.

He was dressed in a simple robe of linen. His feet were bare and covered with dirt. His hair was cut short and unruly, as if the raven locks had never been combed. He smiled and nodded in greeting his dark eyes filled with mirth.

Although he appeared to be a young man Casius knew he was far from human and much older than he appeared.

“You have strong sight, for a human” The young man said. “Whether it be by Sword, Ring or the touch of Ma’ul that resides in you, I cannot say.”

“I would ask a boon of this forest.” Casius said. “Will the forest ward this body?”

The young man nodded. “The time of my kind is drawing to an end. But as long as this wood stands it shall be guarded. You have the word of a forest lord.”

Casius turned to leave but stopped. “One other?” He asked.

The forest lord stood a little taller and arched an eyebrow in surprise.

“Among the dead lie many Taur Di.” He said looking back towards the field below. “There are too many for us to bear home, would Delin’ tor accept them? They deserve to be interned in the boughs of trees and not in a mound of earth.”

The young man took a moment to consider the question. “The Taur Di are known to us,” He said. “We will honor them as is befitting their service to my brethren.”

Casius smiled in gratitude and was about to speak when the forest lord simply vanished. One moment he was standing in front of him. The next he was simply gone.

Casius left the wood and rejoined Connell on the slope below the plateau.
“Where’s the body?” He asked.
“Where no one will ever find it.” Casius answered. As he slid down the loose scree he slipped and fell onto his back.
Connell pulled him upright. “You need some rest friend.” He said helping him down the slope.
Casius nodded. “I wonder if I will ever feel hale again.”
“In time,” Connell answered leading him to the makeshift encampment.
Casius collapsed and slept, a deep dreamless sleep.
Connell sat nearby watching his friend; D’Yana came and sat at his side.
“He will be scarred.” She stated looking at the burns upon his face.
“Aye,” Connell replied. “As will we all.”

“At least his hair is growing back.” She said noting the bald swath across Casius head was coated with stubble. “Why on earth would it be white?” She wondered noting the color for the first time.

“I am surprised that any of his hair remains dark.” Connell answered. “Given the terrors he’s lived through.”

D’Yana laid her head on Connell’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Within moments she was asleep as well.

Connell remained awake, he dared not move for fear of awakening her. He would simply sit out the night watching over his two companions.

Wet tears rolled down his face as he thought of his father. He was ashamed for leaving his home, and now after having healed the breach between them his father was dead. He fell asleep thinking off all the things he had wanted to tell him.

The sun rose in a glorious display of gold and fiery orange. It was the first day of a new age and the air began to grow warm with its light. The snow melted and the ground grew soggy, the warmth of summer returning at last.

Casius awakened late in the day, well past noon. He was annoyed that no one had roused him.
“We tried.” Connell said in their defense. “But you refused to stir. After several attempts we decided to let you rest.”
Connell led Casius to the battlegrounds. The men were excavating a long trench, preparing a massive grave for the fallen.

“Something odd happened last night.” Connell said as they drew near. “The Taur Di are gone, not a single man remains. The sentries saw or heard nothing in the darkness, but some how they have been taken.”

Casius looked to the overhanging trees on the plateau above. “They are in the forest.” He answered. “The trees have claimed their bodies, and honor their sacrifice.”

Connell followed his gaze and shook his head in amazement.

Lord Burcott saw them approach, the old veteran was covered with dirt and wearing only his breeches. “I cannot find a single Taur Di.” He said to Connell.

“They are being cared for.” Casius answered. “The forest of Delin Tor has taken them and they are resting in a place of honor befitting their customs.”

Burcott sighed with relief. “Jehnom would be pleased.”
Casius began to remove his chain hauberk.
“What are you doing?” Connell asked.

“There is work to be done.” Casius answered dropping the grime-encrusted mail onto the ground. “Besides I wont be needing that anymore.”

Connell shook his head. “The Morne are gone but there yet remains Troll’s and Fell hounds about.”
Casius smiled. “I have slain two Ma’ul and Sur’kar himself. Do you really believe that I can’t face a Troll?”
Connell grinned. “I guess not,” He said. “You’re no longer my student are you?”

Casius joined the line of men who were passing along flat stones from the pile of rubble at the escarpments base. The walls of the pit and its floor were being lined with dry set rock.

The bodies of the dead men were wrapped in their cloaks and laid within the trench with weapons upon their chests.

It took the better part of a week to construct the mound. Taller than two men it stood, covered with fresh cut sod from a nearby hillside. The men resting within a mix of all nations, they fought side by side in life and in death they were interred together.

The Morne were gathered and burned. The fires leaving dark scars upon the earth that for many years would never grow grass.

Gaelan swore to rebuild the ruined temple nearby and dedicate it to the memory of those who died here.

On the ninth day following the battle a weary group of men left the hills and out onto the open grasslands. The men moved slowly, marching in loose ranks with the Kings of Kesh and Ao’dan at their head.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was a weary column of less than two thousand men who reached plain before Cal’Arev. They were battered, not one among their number was without injury.

As they entered the dried lakebed about the city bells began to toll from the buildings. Six Riders appeared on the broad causeway. With lances held high and streaming pennants of scarlet attached just below the steel heads.

The men formed ranks and marched forward with determined strides. The weariness was still upon them but they hid it well.

The riders drew up short of the approaching men. “My Lord.” Their Captain said greeting Gaelan. “Dismount.” He ordered his men. He strode forward and offered Gaelan his mount.

“I have come this far,” Gaelan said refusing the offer. “And I will not ride while these good men must continue afoot.”

The Captain bowed, stepping aside as Gaelan led the column forward. “What news do you bear?” He asked one of the bloody warriors.”

“Sur’kar’s dead and the Morne have been routed.” The man replied without breaking stride.
The Captain stood staring at the men in awe as they marched past, his guards smiling broadly at the news.
“Do we escort them into the city?” One of his men asked.
“Ride ahead, Jebin.” The captain ordered. “Give word to the steward. These men have earned a heroes welcome.”
Jebin saluted and galloped off for the city.
The Captain ordered his men to follow well behind the warriors. “It is their day not ours.” He said.

They reached the ramp leading into the city and a crowd of thousands lined the thoroughfare. Cheers greeted the men, the crowds waving brightly colored clothes from every balcony and window. Even the rooftops were crowded with onlookers.

The city quickly took on the atmosphere of a carnival. Vendors plied their wares from shop windows and Bards performed on every corner. From the Inns along the way serving girls rushed out and handed mugs of ale to the marching men.

The people lining the way to the keep were thin, each bearing the haunted eyes of someone who had seen much death and destruction. And yet they cheered, the grief a mere shadow of what it was.

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