Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf) (36 page)

Kieran could tell from the disemboweled midsection of Zivën that he was dead but the rules were precise. So, he went through the motions of checking the dark elf’s pulse and at the same time slipped on the ring Kâlikâ had given him. Standing up, he turned back to Lalith and the crowd. With his right hand he waved it back and forth under his chin. “Zivën the Blademaster of Timgâd is dead. Galvorn is the victor!”

The stands erupted into cheers even though it was technically a break in protocol since Lalith hadn’t given permission for the students to rise, although the Dark Queen didn’t seem to mind.

As much as Gray wanted to rush to his half-brother’s side to check his injuries, he refrained from doing so in fear of stealing some of the glory he’d earned this day. For it was the first time he’d ever seen pride reflecting in Lalith’s eyes as she watched her son stand up, bloody but proud. And as much as Gray longed to plunge his claws into the sorceress’ chest and rip out her heart, she was still his friend’s mother. Having grown up without one, he couldn’t rob him of this moment.

*    *    *   *    *

Even though Galvorn had heard Kieran proclaim him the victor, it was still hard to believe he’d won. The moment he had locked swords with Zivën, he knew that the older dark elf was actually the better swordsman. It was nothing major but subtle variances in how he’d moved. The foremost difference had been that the Blademaster had rested on his laurels and relied on his reputation to keep challengers at bay, whereas Galvorn was in better shape and training constantly.

Galvorn reached up to remove his blindfold and winced at the pain in his left shoulder. Up until this very moment, it had been nothing more than a dull ache but now it was throbbing and he could feel the blood running down his arm.

“There, there youngster, rest easy,” said Kieran as he pulled off the blindfold. “You did well Blademaster.”

Galvorn blinked and shook his head. “What? What was that?”

Kieran grinned slight. Turning aside, he picked up Zivën’s fallen tulwars and replaced them in their sheaths before presenting them to the young Sicárii. “A Blademaster should have proper weapons. I know for a fact that these swords have been enchanted to never break. May they serve you well, Blademaster.”

Galvorn accepted them with his one good arm. “Thank you.”

Kieran jerked back in mock surprise. “A Blademaster with manners? My, my…that is refreshing. I see that those swords are already in a better home.” Turning away, the Sultan signaled the medics. “Now, let’s get that wound looked after. It would not be a good thing to keep your mother waiting for long.”

Galvorn pushed away the medics and struggled to his feet. His wound would wait. He was a Blademaster now and with the title came responsibilities. Throwing the baldric over his good shoulder, he grabbed a clean towel from one of the medics and clamped it tight over his wound as he moved across the sand to stand in front of the Dark Lady.

For once in his life, he felt confident enough to meet her gaze.

*    *    *   *    *

Lalith was shocked at the change in her son. She hadn’t had any direct contact with him in five, no six years, and she could see that he had grown up. No longer was he the child scampering about for her attention, now he was a man, bloodied in combat and highly trained. Trained enough to duel a Blademaster and live to tell about it.

Nonetheless, the most shocking of all was how he carried himself. Galvorn stood tall with his shoulders held back even though one was bleeding profusely. In addition, there was the fact that he now met her gaze, which was completely new. His
cerulean eyes held no hint of challenge in them but carried the same resolution that Darnac’s did, the simple knowledge that his fate was now tied to her pleasure. It was a delicious sight.

Lalith snapped her fingers and pointed at his shoulder. The medics rushed forward to do her bidding. “Well done my son but you need to let them tend to your wound. It wouldn’t do to have get infected.”

Galvorn nodded. “As you wish.”

Lalith reached out and gently caressed his chin. It was a tender, motherly gesture that was very out of character for her but one she calculated that her son needed. She could see the excitement of her touch and approval reflecting in his eyes. She hid a small self-
satisfying smile as she turned back to the captive dwarf.

“Blademaster, it might interest you to learn that Aaron here was planning on having you assassinated during your duel.”

Galvorn shifted his gaze to the bound dwarf. “That does not surprise me, nor does his failure.”

Lalith’s head snapped back to look at her son. “You didn’t think his students were capable of
committing such an act?”

Galvorn shook his head. “Nay, the students are vastly undertrained but I was referring to the fact that Grim had my back and I knew he wouldn’t fail.”

“Really?” Lalith shifted positions until she was facing the Sicárii and was surprised to find him only two steps behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach nor had Jinx alerted her to his presence. Slightly perturbed, she shot her gargoyle familiar a message. ‘
How did he get so close without you telling me?’

*
I’m supposed to do everything for you? Since when? *

Lalith scanned the half-elf’s eyes and noted that they were the color of storm clouds in spring. Something about their color seemed familiar and tugged on her memories but nothing that she could pinpoint at the moment. However, she couldn’t see or sense any malice in them, just concern for her son.

‘What do you know about this Isengrim?’

Jinx chuckled and flew out from behind her to circle the young assassin.
*He is as deadly as they come. He kills without malice or emotion and is the most skillful tracker in the bunch. These two traits have earned him the nickname Grim Stalker.*
Jinx thought about quitting there but just couldn’t resist adding,
*I would say that he is your son’s opposite half. Where your son is flippant, Grim is serious. Where Galvorn is flashy, he is cold and efficient. He is every bit your son’s twin.*

‘Is he loyal to us?’

Jinx ducked behind her in case his face betrayed his lie.
*I sense no malice in him, other than the fact he resents being a slave.*

‘Don’t
they all.’

Lalith’s face softened as she turned on her charm. “Grimstalker, I feel I should thank you for saving my son from,” she kneed the bound dwarf, “this coward’s devises.”

Gray nodded his head. “No thanks are necessary m’lady, Galvorn is my friend.”

Still in doubt about his loyalty, she thrust the fallen dwarf toward him. “And this one?”

Gray cocked his head to the side. “M’lady?”

“What should be done with him?”

Gray shrugged. “Whatever you wish. He is of no concern to me.”

Lalith gestured to the students. “And them?”

Gray’s eyes scanned the gathering of students and knew she was testing him just as Darnac had those many years ago. However, the truth hadn’t changed and so he gave the same answer. “Whatever you wish.”

Lalith was taken
aback by his blunt answer but felt compelled to ask, “Are they not friends of yours?”

“Yes, some of them but that is not relevant.”

“Interesting. Please explain?”

“As a slave, we are property and our existence is only secured by our usefulness.” He fingered the collar around his neck. “I live and die by your whim or that of the Dôminus. I fail either and my life is forfeit. This I know.” Gray gestured to the students. “They have yet to realize that and worse, I doubt they have been trained properly. From my experiences with Aaron Kingslayer, I would guess that he failed to impart this knowledge. Worse, he probably bribed and enticed them with promises of working off their debt to the Dark Alliance.”

Gray paused for a few seconds but since it seemed that Lalith was still waiting for him to make a recommendation, he took a breath and continued. “When a hunter misses his target, he doesn’t blame the arrow. The fault lies with the hunter or the fletcher. These students are like arrows. They can only act as they have been trained. I would hate to see you waste the resources already invested in these students. It is not their fault and they should not bear the blame of someone else’s failure. Nonetheless in the end, it is your decision.”

Lalith smiled. Now she could see what Darnac had seen in this young man. He had a sharp mind and un
derstood the harsh realities of the world. “Very well, they can live…for now. But you better have them ready when I need them.”

Gray did a
double take. “Excuse me?”

Lalith ignored him and turned to face the emaciated dark elf rogue. “Kieran, you are hereby promoted to Headmaster. And since it seems you are woefully short on instructors, I have just found you a new Weaponsmaster.”

Kieran nodded. “You words, my actions m’lady. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. You have been given a year reprieve. I want these students ready for the next phase of the war.” Lalith turned back to face Isengrim. “Well Grimstalker, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Gray bowed his head, “I am humbled by your faith in me. Thank you.”

“You fate is now linked with these students. Fail and they die, they fail and you die. Your arrows must be ready when I need them.” The Dark Lady turned her attention back to the new Headmaster. “I will contact the Dôminus and alert him of the situation. Anticipate a few more instructors over the next few days. Do not fail me Kieran.”

“Never. The Sicárii will be ready when you next call for them.”

“See to it.” Lalith took several steps away from the crowd before facing her son. “Blademaster, you will come with me. I have need of your skills.”

“Yes ma’am.” Galvorn took a step toward her but hesitated and walked over to his half-brother and held out his good arm. “Good luck Grim.”

Gray clasped forearms with him. “Same to you brother. I’ll look after your belongings.”

Galvorn cocked his head to the side. “What belongings?”

“By tradition everything that was Zivën’s is now yours. It seems you are leaving before claiming it.”

“No worries my friend, you are the Lüdüs Weaponsmaster. It’s yours now.” Galvorn looked over at the new Headmaster. “You hear that Kieran.”

“Yes Blademaster.” As Galvorn began to turn away, Kieran called out. “And what of the Kingslayer?”

Lalith eyes flashed with annoyance. “He is Kingslayer no longer. That title has been stripped from him and is never to be used again.” She waved one hand at her son. “Bring him along. I have plans for him.”

Galvorn grabbed the bound dwarf by his tunic and unceremoniously dragged him to the expanding circle of darkness under his mother’s feet. Several seconds later, the globe of darkness engulfed them and they were gone.

Chapter 39

Kieran moved to stand
alongside his newest instructor. “Bet you didn’t see that coming?”

Gray shook his head. “No, no I didn’t.”

Kieran began walking back to the main part of the Lüdüs and Gray fell in beside him. “I must say that I’m pleased to have you aboard. However your assessment wasn’t incorrect, the students are vastly undertrained and we only have a year to get them ready.”

Gray grinned. “No worries. If my guess at what Lalith has planned, we will be fine.”

Kieran wasn’t too sure about that but he liked the young half-elf’s optimism so he let it ride. “You realized that I have been very unpopular with Zivën and Kingslayer, I mean Trollslayer for stating the obvious.”

“Don’t fret. I have had my dealing with those two over the years. You couldn’t tell them anything. They knew everything.”

“To my dying regret, I’ve sent many a student off to their deaths knowing they weren’t ready.”

“I’ve told the Dôminus many times that Aaron and Zivën were the problem but only he or Lalith could make the change that was required.”

The two instructors heard the sounds of running feet behind them, so they paused and looked back to find Rjani and Khan rushing after them.

“Headmaster, a moment,” called the gnome.

“Yes Khan? What can we do for you?”

The bald and tattooed gnome elbowed the lovely dark elf.
Rjani cleared her throat before speaking. “Sir…what about us?”

Kieran looked over at Gray. “Weaponsmaster, it is your call. I must depart for Timgâd within the hour. I am sure that this trip will take at least a ten-day if not longer. The Council of Shadows rarely moves quickly.”

Gray nodded and turned his attention back to the two students. “Rjani…Khan, send everyone back to their dorms. Inform them that they have the next two days off but on the third day, prepare for hell.”

“Yes Döcent,” replied Khan with a grin and the two students sprinted off to pass the word.

“You handled that very well. I think you’ll do fine.”

Gray nodded. “Thanks.”

The Headmaster resumed walking. “One question, why give them two days off?”

“Three reasons. One, I remember that we only had a few days off during my time here and those we did have were like golden
nuggets, rare and precious. Two, it will give me time to go through any notes Zivën left behind and work up a proper training regimen.” Gray paused for a moment and scratched his head. “And lastly, it gives us a bit more time for the other instructors to arrive.”

Kieran laughed. “My, my…you are a sharp one. In many ways you remind me of Darnac.”

That remark caused Gray to raise one eyebrow. “I thought you two didn’t get along.”

“We’ve had our differences that is true. However, I have always respected his fighting prowess. But it has only been in the last decade or so that I have come to admire his uncompromising attitude. It takes a rare man to remain true to his principles given everything that has happened to him over the centuries.”

Gray nodded. “Those are some of the same reasons I respect Darnac.”

They stopped at an intersection. Kieran pointed down the left corridor. “Your new quarters are down that way.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I shall try to hurry but don’t expect me back any time soon.”

“I won’t start to worry until the second ten-day has passed.”

The two instructors clasped forearms and parted ways.

*    *    *   *    *

Khlekluëllin shuffled once more through the piles of scrolls and letters that covered his desk as he searched for that one parchment he desperately wanted.

Halhulingrath’s voice echoed in his head.
* It is to your left, fifth page down.*

Khlekluëllin laughed and spoke aloud even though his dragon companion was mile away. “How is it that you knew where that parchment was?”

*Your mind knew where it was but right now it is too cluttered with worry to perform at its peak.*

Pulling out the parchment, Khlekluëllin scanned its contents once more. There was an unconfirmed report of massive troop movements in the Highlands. Evidently, one of the Feredir’s had ran across an old shepherd who had relayed the tale. Since the ranger hadn’t seen it for himself, it was considered an unreliable report.

Khlekluëllin stood up from his desk and moved to the map of Terreth that covered one wall of his office. Scribbling a few runes on a scrap of parchment with a date, he shoved a pin in the Highlands and stepped back. Everything in his being said that the Dark Alliance wasn’t through, no matter what the general populace thought. Their hadn’t been a major conflict with the enemy in years but then, the Dark Alliance hadn’t had a reason to pull back when they did. Logically, there was a plan. Khlekluëllin just hadn’t figured out what it was…yet.

“How did my mother manage all of this by herself?”

*She didn’t.*

“What?”

*She had a dozen scribes and administrators working for her. It was their duty to take care of the day to day business of running the kingdom.*

“Where are they now?”

*You sent them away.*

“Oh, that’s right. Until we knew for sure that none of them were working with my brother, I didn’t want them anywhere near the throne or with access to our troop information.”

*You should know that they are all loyal to your mother and the throne. They are simply waiting for your summons.*

“How do you know all that?”

*I scanned them.*

Truth be told, the mental ability of a dragon scared most historians more than the fact of their large size, razor sharp claws and terrible breath weapons. The simple fact that a dragon could read your mind and know your deepest darkest secrets frightened most people.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to do that.”

*Shh…I’m not, so don’t tell anyone.*

Khlekluëllin laughed. “Runner!”

Immediately, three pages stepped into the room. They were all young nobles, too young to begin an apprentice or serve in the military but to old too not have them do something constructive. All three bowed low and spoke in unison, “Yes m’lord?”

“Summon my council. They have work to do.”

“Yes m’lord,” and they were gone.

Khlekluëllin smiled. For the first time in months, he felt that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

*Now about that report you dug out…*

And the light faded from view.

*    *    *   *    *

Amani and Dancer inched their way to the peak of the ridge and peered over its edge.

The wind was in their faces, which would carry their scent away from the skittish bison below. It was a small herd, only about fifty calves but it was not the buffalo that the two Highlanders were concerned about, it was the camp of orcs on the other side of the valley that captivated their attention.

In many ways, Orcs were simple brutes but they did have a certain shrewd intelligence. They were obviously clever enough to fence off this small valley to pen up a portion of the wandering buffalo herds to keep their main food source nearby. Therefore, they would also be smart enough to realize something was wrong if the presence of the two Highlanders stirred up the buffalo.

Amani reached out and pushed aside a small shrub that was blocking their view and she felt her heart catch in her throat. The quick intake of breath told her that Dancer had also seen the same thing. In the distance, shrouded in constant fog was the notorious silhouette of the Black Falls Fortress.

They had both grown up in the shadow of the Dark Alliance and much of its history was tied to that ominous fortress. It was originally built as a refuge for travelers by a famous dwarven adventurer named Haldar. For a short time, it became a beacon of learning and unity for all of Terreth. However, time is the enemy of all mortals and Haldar’s legacy fell into ruins. Centuries later, it became the main stronghold of the evil that now plagued the land.

Even as threatening as the fortress was, it was the untold number of troops littering the lowlands that captivated their attention. Thousands, nay tens of thousands of soldiers lay between them and their destination, the Dragonfang Mountains.

Dancer shook his head. “What are they doing?”

“Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

Amani’s eyes scanned the closest camps looking for a path through the enemy lines. “Waiting for the order to invade the Southlands once more.”

Dancer nearly jumped to his feet. “The Southern Kingdoms will be overrun. They’ve barely recovered from the last invasion.”

“True, but that is not our concern.”

Dancer’s eye went wide. “How can you be so callous?”

“Not callous, realistic.” Amani turned to face her companion and bit back the angry retort that was on the tip of her tongue. She hadn’t realized how close they actually were until this very moment.  She swallowed and licked her lips several times but they remained dry. “It’s actually rather simple. Neither of us can shape shift so there is no way of warning the Southlands.”

Dancer nodded and his face softened. “That is true.”

Amani’s eyes seemed to grow larger. “This mission we are on to find Odovacar is paramount to the wellbeing of our people. This I know. I‘ve had dream after dream concerning the curse which keeps us shielded from Luna’s gift and Odovacar figures in every single vision. We must find him.”

Dancer reached out with one hand and placed it on her shoulder. “We will. I promise.”

Amani’s skin was afire from his touch and her nose was suddenly filled with his scent; an earthy smell seemed to call to her. She lifted her chin ever so slightly and inched forward.

Dancer held his breath and leaned forward. He’d long dreamed of their first kiss.

Crack.

The sound of twigs breaking echoed up the ridgeline and the two Highlanders froze. If anything, they both sunk lower into the tall sawgrass.

Even though the traditional Highlander armor had evolved from simple leathers and furs to chainmail and hardened leathers, they had retained certain features that were intrinsic to their cultural habits. In some ways, they had even improved on the dwarven concept of armor. Instead of making a full suit of chainmail armor, they used the mail to reinforce the more vulnerable areas of the body while using layers of hardened leathers to cover the rest, kind of like the scales of a fish. This ingenious combination allowed the Highlanders unprecedented protection while keeping them agile and at home in the wilderness. The natural tones of their armor and cloaks paid off as a patrol of orcs passed within five yards of them.

Amani waited until they were out of sight before speaking. “Come. We best be going before they loop back.”

Dancer nodded. He was frustrated that the brutes had interrupted their moment but relieved that they hadn’t been spotted. Keeping himself low, he followed the lithe spellcaster down the ridge and into the night.

*    *    *   *    *

Nilrem roared and threw the log against the closest obstacle which just so happened to be the wall of the sweat lodge. Luckily, no one was inside at the moment since it buckled and collapsed under the assault. Turning to face Karin Fleetfoot, Nilrem screamed, “What do you mean there is no sign of Amani at the northern pass?”

Karin unconsciously stepped backwards when he replied. “I found two sets of tracks leading to the pass and through it. One was certainly Amani’s. The second…”

“Dancer’s,” replied Nilrem. “I should’ve known something was awry when the Moonsword was missing out of the lodge.” The huge Highlander took a deep breath and looked at the damage he’d done. “Sorry about that Karin.”

“No harm done my Chieftain. Should I gather a hunting party?”

Nilrem shook his head. “No. They have too great a head start on us and as much as I hate to admit it, it was their choice. Amani and Dancer have chosen their own path and they must walk it without our help or protection.”

Karin cocked his head to one side. “You are calmer than I would be if one of my daughters were off wandering the Highlands without me.”

Nilrem chuckled and placed one hand on his friend’s shoulder. “That’s what you say now before they’re teenagers. Just wait, one day you will know this feeling. It is odd to be both proud that they are making their own way and scared that they aren’t ready.”

“I can only imagine. Now what?”

“Organize several scout patrols. I want that pass under watchful eyes all day long. Eventually, they will come back and they may need our assistance at that time.”

“It will be done Chieftain.”

As Karin rushed off to do his bidding, Nilrem set about the task of cleaning up his mess and rebuilding the sweat lodge. Well at least he now had a project to help occupy his mind and to keep him from worrying.

It didn’t help.

*    *    *   *    *

Anasazi rubbed his temples and blinked repeatedly as he watched the old blind man move down the stairs and maneuver through the crowded inn with ease. As strange as the old man’s mannerisms were, that was not what had him bewildered. Anasazi knew he had had a long conversation with Master Pau but he could not remember any of the details just that it happened. He felt that it was a good meeting but that was about it. There was something familiar about this bafflement but it was more than that. He had the impression that he’d been idle too long.