PURE OF HEART (13 page)

Spear, axe, and sword hit the Krulg from three separate directions. The creature crumpled to the ground. There was silence in the clearing, save for the breathing of the warriors and the wolves.

Oieda walked before the leader of the wolves and scratched behind its ear. She said something that was too faint or in a tongue too strange for anyone except the beast to understand.

“We will follow them.” She rose. “They will take us to safety.”

“Anything you say, Doctor Dolittle.” Dean smiled.

As they ran, Han howled in pain and fell forward.

“That stupid, clumsy Krulg stepped on my ankle,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Bravic looked at the Elvana’s swelling ankle. “He can’t walk, let alone run. It’s not badly hurt, though.”

Han winced at Bravic’s touch. “It feels badly hurt.”

“We’ll have to carry him,” Dean said.

Oieda leaned and whispered to the giant wolf. “No. It will slow us too much. She will carry him.” She pointed to the wolf.

“You want me to ride a wolf?” Han’s eyes widened.

“Don’t look a gift wolf in the mouth.” Dean cautiously set Han on the broad back of the wolf.

The four set off with the pack. The three tried to keep up with the wolves’ rapid pace. The wolves slowed somewhat for them, but soon all three were soaked with sweat.

Han anxiously hung on, trying not to pull too hard on the wolf’s fur.

Oieda ran up alongside him. “Do not worry. You can hold on as tightly as you need.”

“Okay.” Han nodded, but he was still very pale. “I’m not worried.”

Dean saw Oieda look away to hide her smile. They ran for many hours at this steady pace. The lead wolf stopped occasionally to sniff the air and change direction. When they finally stopped, now many miles from the city, the three fell to the ground, panting. Han slid off the wolf’s back as it moved over to nuzzle Oieda.

The Elf stroked its fur and whispered things only the two could understand as it licked her face. Then it raised its head and howled, and the pack disappeared into the woods.

After they caught their breaths, the companions made camp. They slept under pine trees; everything they didn’t carry on them now burned in Modos. Dean rolled over on his pine needle bed and wrapped his leather jacket tighter around his body.

They traveled only a little distance over the next two days, for they were now without horses, and each had to take turns carrying Han. Their spirits were low due to the loss of equipment, the lack of food, and the gloomy weather. The days were especially gray with a constant mist. On the third day, Han was able to walk again, much to the delight of everyone except Bravic. Before, Han had been able to talk constantly in everyone’s ear. Now he leaned on Bravic solely for support, and since he was the closest in height, the Dwarf was the main audience for Han’s constant questions and tales.

By the fifth day, Han could walk on his own, and it raised everyone’s spirits, because he hunted and brought back plenty of fresh food. After they ate, Bravic set a very fast pace. They stopped much less to rest, and as night came, he quickened it more.

“Can we camp here?” Han asked finally. His ankle was sore again.

“Yeah, Bravic, we’ve hiked all day,” Dean groaned as he slumped to the ground.

“I’d like to push on a little farther.” Bravic peered around. “The Hall of Fallen Warriors is supposed to be somewhere in this vale, and I’d rather be tired than spend more time here.”

“The Hall of Fallen Warriors,” Han and Oieda shouted together as they rose to their feet and quickly looked around.

“What’s this Hall?” Dean asked.

“It is the place where the spirits of great, good warriors go to rest before they leave this world. It is said if the living enter the Hall, they will not come out,” Oieda explained. “We should not have come this way.”

“It was the fastest,” Bravic grumbled.

“I—I think I can travel a little farther,” Han stuttered as the hairs on his neck rose.

They got moving again and soon came to a fork in the path. Bravic stopped. “I don’t know which way.” He cursed.

“Don’t say one path takes us out and one takes us to the Hall.” Dean tossed his hands up.

“That I don’t know,” Bravic muttered.

“The path to the left is more traveled. I think we should take that one.” Oieda scanned the ground.

“Why?” Dean asked.

“The dead leave no trace of passage,” Oieda said.

“Thanks for giving me the creeps,” Dean said.

“Me too,” Han added.

They hurriedly went down the path to the left. As they moved down the twisting trail, they walked faster and watched the shadows start to lengthen. When they came into a clearing, four huge statues loomed above them. Behind the statues was an enormous arched entryway. The statues stretched skyward, standing almost twenty feet tall. They were carved in the form of armed warriors: an Elvana, an Elf, a Dwarf, and a Human.

“Oh, major creeps.” Han groaned as he stared up at the figures. “There’s four of them and four of us.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Dean said. “There’s writing on the bases. Should we read it?”

“I wonder if it’ll do something. I say we read it.” Han rushed up to the base of the Elvana statue. “Everybody read in order, okay?”

“Something bad could come of this,” Bravic said nervously but he walked to the base of the Dwarf statue.

“I say we read it. What’s the worst that could happen?” Han asked.

“In my world,” Dean walked over to the statue of the human, “when someone says that, it’s usually right before something
really
bad happens.”

“Should we not read it then?” Oieda moved into place. “No offense intended, Han, but following your decision is not my first instinct.”

Dean and Bravic chuckled while Han frowned. “Thanks.”

“Now I’m curious too.” Dean roguishly grinned. “Let’s do it.”

One by one, they all read the words inscribed on the stones:

“In this Hall of Fallen Warriors,

there lie those who cared.

They cared for others and not themselves,

they were the few who dared.

“In this Hall of Fallen Warriors,

are those who gave their lives.

They died for what they believed,

their sacrifice saved lives.

“In this Hall of Fallen Warriors,

those courageous souls now lay.

They had the courage to seek peace,

But they fought when there was no other way.

“In this Hall of Fallen Warriors,

are heroes of the past.

They want only one thing now . . .

that what they died for will last.”

As the echo of Dean’s voice faded, a silence fell. The four stood as motionless as the statues above them.

“Nothing happened? I can’t believe nothing happened.” Han looked around. “That stinks.”

“I thought something might happen, too,” Bravic said. “We need to—”

“Something did happen. Look.” Dean pointed back to the mouth of the valley. Dozens of black forms flew straight toward them.

“Tarlugs!” Oieda spat.

“Those stupid flying Krulgs,” Han said.

“We can’t fight so many. Into the entryway,” Dean ordered as he moved back.

“Do what you want. I’m not going in there,” Oieda called back to him as she raised her spear.

Dean stepped into the opening and saw it was an alcove with a large metal door at its end. “It’s a better vantage point than out in the open.” Dean looked at the approaching Tarlugs, numbering at least thirty or more. As the creatures descended, they screamed in glee at the sight of the four figures.

“Maybe you are right,” Oieda said quickly as she turned and ran to the others.

“Can they get us in here?” Han asked.

In answer to his question, one of the beasts flew straight into the alcove, only to land at the end of Dean’s thrust sword. As Han leaped backward, he slammed against the massive iron door. It swung open easily and the Elvana tumbled through.

“Han,” Dean yelled as he rushed into the darkness after the Elvana.

The Tarlugs landed at the end of the alcove and drew their weapons. Bravic grabbed Oieda by the arm and pulled her through the door.

“Let go,” she growled as she pulled her arm free.

“There’s too many out there,” Bravic said.

“We can take them one at a time,” Dean said. “Bravic, get on that side—”

“Close the door,” Han begged as he saw the approaching Tarlugs and pushed at the door.

“Don’t!” Dean yelled but it was too late. The massive door swung shut and the companions were plunged into a silent darkness. “Crud. Did you forget about the part where no humans who come in here leave alive?”

“Oops. Sorry,” Han said.

“Will someone light a torch or something?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know if you want to.” Han’s voice was low.

“Why?” all three asked.

“Funny thing . . . the door locked.” Han nervously chuckled. His words echoed through the silence that again fell around them.

“We opened it.” Dean set his back against the door. “Does it only open from the other side?”

“I heard a lock click in place,” Bravic said.

Oieda pounded on the door with her spear. “OPEN THE DOOR,” she screamed.

“What are you doing?” Dean shouted. “We don’t want them to get in.”

“I want out.” Oieda’s voice was strained.

“Hold on. There’s a torch on the wall.” Bravic took flint from his pocket and lit it. A glow of light soon arose and they could see they were in a stonework hall where the ceiling disappeared into the dark. Bravic looked at the door and frowned.

“Can you open it?” Oieda squeezed his shoulder.

The Dwarf shook his head. “There is a lock here and here and here.” He pointed to three places on the door. “I can’t tell how it was triggered to lock.”

“You’re a Dwarf,” Oieda snapped. “And you don’t know how someone got a door to lock?”

Bravic scowled. “There are several different options rattling around in my head as to the how they did it, but they don’t do us a lick of good. That door’s not opening for me or anyone else.”

Dean stepped between the two of them. “Shall we go forward?” he asked.

“Do we have a choice?” Oieda snapped.

Dean looked from Bravic to Oieda to Han and back to Oieda. “Oieda, you’re really pale. Are you okay?”

“I am fine,” she said as her eyes darted everywhere except to look at him.

“Seriously, did you get hit or—”

“I am unhurt.” In the torchlight, her green eyes flashed. “I do not like enclosed places.”

“Neither do I.” Han moved closer to her. “Especially when it feels like the walls are right in your face. It makes it hard to breathe when you think we’re in a tomb and—”

“Stop talking, Han,” Dean said as Oieda turned even paler. “Let’s get moving.”

Bravic held the torch up and led the way across the tiled floor. Han walked next to Oieda while Dean guarded their backs. Their footsteps echoed from far away but Dean could only guess how big the hall was.

“Do you think that’s right?” Han asked. “That no humans leave alive?”

“No,” Dean scoffed. “Shh.”

“I’m not scared,” Han whispered. “I’m an Elvana.”

“Why does being an Elvana make you not scared?” Dean asked.

“Because they say that no
human
comes out alive,” Han said.

Dean frowned. “Thanks.”

“Sorry.”

After only a few steps, they saw a gleam of metal on the wall to the left. It slowly revealed itself to be a suit of gray plate armor, standing as if worn. It was in front of a small raised iron door with carving on it.

“Don’t touch anything,” Dean said directly to Han.

“I won’t.”

“Don’t read anything either,” Bravic called back.

“I said I won’t. But I don’t think that us reading the text on the statues brought the Tarlugs. I think they followed us from Modos or they—”

Dean held up his hand. “Don’t say anything either.”

“Now I can’t talk?” Han asked loudly.

Suddenly, torches on the walls burst to life. The flames seemed to jump from torch to torch until the whole massive hall was filled with light. The companions all froze in their tracks except for Han. He threw his hands up. “My talking did not do that. That was a coinciden—”

“Quiet,” Bravic fiercely whispered.

As they peered down the hall, they could now see suits of armor and clothes seemingly hanging in the air, each in front of small metal doors.

“Any who enter the Hall of Fallen Warriors must die,” a voice echoed through the chamber.

“Oh great . . . I knew it,” Dean grumbled as everyone drew their weapons. “I just knew it.”

At the far reaches of the light, they saw an armored figure appear and walk toward them.

“You have defiled the dead of this hall and now you must pay with your lives,” it said ominously as it continued to approach.

“I didn’t read anything. I didn’t touch anything. All I did was ask a question,” Han whined as he nocked an arrow.

“We didn’t defile anything,” Dean called to the figure.

“Thieves,” the man spat. “You’ll steal nothing from this tomb.”

“I’m not a thief,” Bravic retorted, now truly offended.

“All that come into this tomb are thieves.” He was now only fifteen feet in front of them. “Choose who’ll die first.”

“We didn’t come here to steal.” Dean stepped forward.

“Choose who will die first,” he repeated.

“If someone has to die, can we pick you?” Dean asked.

Oieda groaned.

“Your choice is made. You all will die,” the man announced.

The man took four long strides and lunged forward. His sword swept down, aiming to cut Dean in half. Dean jumped to the side and the blow rang like a bell as it struck the floor.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Dean yelled as he backed away.

“But you must,” the man sneered as his sword cut at Dean’s chest and barely missed.

“We were seeking shelter,” Dean explained as he blocked another blow.

Growling, Bravic rushed at the man. The man sprang forward, grabbed Bravic, and flung him sideways. The Dwarf crashed into the wall and slumped to the ground.

The man struck at Dean once more.

While Han backed up with Dean, Oieda circled the man.

“Listen! We don’t want to fight you,” Dean growled.

“Die,” the man yelled as he thrust at Dean who parried the blow.

“Don’t move!” Oieda ordered as she pressed the tip of her spear against the man’s back.

Dean exhaled. “Nice move.”

Oieda smiled.

With one sudden motion, the man twisted, grabbed the spear, and pulled it forward with one hand; his elbow hit Oieda squarely in the chest and sent her sprawling to the floor.