The Grim Wanderer (40 page)

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Authors: James Wolf

BOOK: The Grim Wanderer
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‘Thank the Light for that!’ Baek whispered, and most of the companions sighed in relief.

Taem knew those spectres had been Hirandar’s creation, but he was still relieved they were gone. The mist dissipated, and Taem perceived more of his surroundings. Hirandar was leading the Hand of Fire to the gates of Khan Zhen, as the last of the Rhungar warriors returned inside the citadel.

A couple of minutes later, the company strode through the great doors into the mighty fortress of stone. Taem glanced around in wonder at how the gigantic doors were operated by a complex system of giant cogs and chain pulleys. Even The Gate, back in Grantle, was not as substantial as these Rhungari doors. Taem was bewildered when the doors slammed shut behind Logan, crashing together with surprising speed, and with no visible gatekeepers to operate them.

Inside the enormous gates a Rhungar in full armour, with a long greying beard and determined silver eyes, waited for them. Taem could see a great passage led on into the depths of the mountain, illuminated by burning torches set into the tunnel walls.

‘Logan Sodan,’ the grey bearded Rhungar said in shock, ‘an’ Great One Hirandar!’ The Rhungar shook his head in amazement. ‘Yhee are favoured by ye Ancestor-Gods! I should do known, when I see such magics. There be few in Hathlore who do command such power.’ The Rhungar knuckled his forehead to Hirandar. ‘Yhee an thy friends be most welcome, most welcome!’ He bowed to the whole company, and shook Forgrun’s hand in the Rhungar manner.

Taem winced as the Rhungars’ arms slammed together with bone crunching power, each clasping the other’s right forearm with their right hand.

‘This be an honour, Lord Captain Harnan,’ Forgrun mumbled, and dipped his head low as he met the Rhungar Lord.

‘Yhee still be alive, Grim Wanderer?’ Harnan grinned.

‘Still alive, my friend,’ Logan clasped forearms with the Rhungar Lord.

‘Yhee Light do truly favour yhee so,’ Harnan shook his head in disbelief.

Taem marvelled at the Rhungari Lord’s heavy armour – it was etched with zildar decoration! He knew zildar was the most precious element of Hathlore, a metal more ardent than silver, more glowing than gold. The same metal that swirled through Estellarum’s crosspiece.

‘For yhee that do nay know,’ the Rhungar Lord began, ‘I be Harnan Molboroth, Captain o’ ye Citadel Guard.’

Taem saw how Harnan had an axe of Kalador engraved into each of his metal wrist guards. Taem knew, from Forgrun, that those were badges of valour, which said Harnan had served protecting the Clan King in the legendary Kalador Guard.

‘I do nay begin ter understand ye power o’ magic,’ Harnan shook his head, ‘but we truly be seein’ thine worth today! We be thinkin’ relief force be comin’ from a southern stronghold, but nay! Our saviours do be numberin’ just eight! A strange an’ varied group yhee be,’ Harnan glanced from person to person. ‘Thy efforts lifted ye siege, fer which yhee have me thanks, an’ ye gratitude o’ ev’ry Rhungar in this city. Please, yhee be comin’ with me. Me Lord Drogal, ye Lord o’ ye Citadel, will undoubt’ly want ter speak with yhee.’

Harnan led the Hand of Fire into the mountainside, down a vast passage, through a second set of colossal doors – the twins of the outside doors – and under an elevated portcullis. Harnan took the company along a passage with a smooth arching roof, fifty foot wide. In the passage walls, Taem observed there were small slits in the rock. Through those shadowy arrow slits, Taem could see many pairs of Rhungari eyes watching the company.

A distance from the second door, which was now closing – again, with no one visibly operating it – were a third pair of opening gates, and another raising portcullis.

‘It’s ingenious!’ Taem whispered to Baek. ‘These doors are linked like a chain of weirs in a canal.’

‘Aye,’ Forgrun said. ‘If one door be open, the others must be shut.’

‘These Rhungar tunnels are layered with defences
upon
other defences,’ Taem glanced up at two large holes in the ceiling, between the door and the portcullis, from where hot tar could be poured down on invaders.

A further hundred foot deeper into the passage, Taem could now see the tunnel was blocked by a stone wall that loomed up out of the darkness, sealing the whole passage from floor to ceiling. In the centre of the wall was a small door, and to each side and above this last door, Taem saw more lines of arrow slits. In the centre of the wall, above the door, there were two deep sunken holes.

‘Fer cannons.’ Forgrun pointed up, when he saw the puzzled look on Taem’s face. ‘Any enemy that ever do penetrate this far into ye mountain will be havin’ balls o’ lead flying at them at tremendous speed.’ Forgrun smiled at the thought of Kruns fleeing from the wall, under cannon fire.

‘Throug’out hist’ry,’ Harnan gazed at the wall with admiration, ‘nay enemy do ever breached ye inner wall. Fer an enemy ter reach ye citadel, they do be havin’ ter absorb enormous losses.’

The group walked on through the inner wall, in single file. Taem heard the muttering rumblings of Grumbold – the coarse Rhungari battle language – coming from arrow slits and tar holes overhead, as he walked through the tight passage.

After the inner wall, the wide passage continued as before, and Taem saw tunnels running off to the sides, to the arrow slits that lined the previous passages.

‘It is astonishing,’ Taem whispered to Logan, ‘the cleverness of this defensive system. The whole citadel can be defended, right up to the inner wall, without a single Rhungar warrior being in real danger.’

Logan nodded, ‘Many years of threat and war, have taught the Rhungars they need to build great fortresses to live up here, to protect their people from dark creatures that roam these mountains.’

Now that the Hand of Fire were through the inner wall, they saw many Rhungars stomping past. Taem noticed how every Rhungar carried their axe with an easy familiarity, and he saw the great strength of body and will in these sullen warriors. Taem watched as many Rhungar soldiers touched their fists together in homage to Harnan, as the Rhungar Captain paced on past.

‘What does this mean?’ Taem touched his fists together, as he spoke to Forgrun.

‘Tis ye Gromm sign o’ respect fer skill in battle,’ Forgrun murmured.

Harnan led the Hand of Fire through a vast antechamber, twice the size of the paddock back at Taem’s home farm. This great chamber was full of shadows, lit by the flicker of countless torches and fires. There were hundreds of Rhungars in the chamber, all stout and stern, and ready for war. Taem saw there were many Rhungari Clan warriors – in the colours of their clans – two hundred Citadel Guard, five score Brothers of Gromm, a thirty strong unit of Storm Hammers, and handfuls of Grey Rangers sitting around the campfires.

The gathered Rhungars glanced up at the diverse company of the Hand of Fire, and Taem could see many of those Rhungari stares were sceptical.

Taem recognised the Brothers of Gromm, sitting separate from all the other Rhungar warriors. Like Bodran, their bodies were covered in swirling white tribal tattoos, showing their dedication to the way of Gromm. Taem thought those tattoos made them look ghostly and ferocious – truly terrifying to the enemies of the Rhungari Empire.

‘No need to stare,’ Hirandar murmured to Baek, as Harnan led the Hand of Fire on.

‘Why
do
they have white tattoos?’ Baek whispered to the Wizard.

‘White is the colour of the Shade World,’ Hirandar said quietly. ‘When Rhungars die they believe they go to the Shade World, endure there whilst the Ancestor-Gods deliberate whether they are worthy to enter the Misty Halls. If the Gods prevent their entry, they are condemned to an eternity as a wraith. I believe the Brothers of Gromm cover themselves in white tattoos because they see themselves as
living
wraiths.’

‘Well,’ Drual said smugly to Jvarna, ‘looks like you succeeded in keeping me around for a little longer.’

Jvarna gave the rogue an icy glare, ‘You
must
be delusional.’

‘I know when a woman wants me,’ Drual smirked.

‘You’re soon going to know what it’s like,’ Jvarna laid a hand on one of the daggers in her belt, ‘when a woman
wants
to kill you!’

‘Ha,’ Drual scoffed, ‘join the queue! I’m sorry princess,’ Drual grinned, ‘but it wouldn’t work between us–’

‘What!’ Jvarna hissed.

‘I can’t go out with you,’ Drual said innocently. ‘I’m
Drual Dhagren
, the dashing hero! Imagine the outcry amongst the ladies at court if you and me… no. It wouldn’t be fair on all my admirers.’ The rogue trailed off after Harnan and Logan, leaving Jvarna fuming.

Taem shook his head at the rogue, as he and his friends snaked through the Brothers of Gromm. Taem was amazed how the Brothers of Gromm all had massive muscular torsos. But then, he remembered Forgrun had told him their only pastime, aside from drinking stupefying quantities of beer, and searching for death in combat, was doing unfathomable numbers of press-ups.

‘In becoming a Brother of Gromm,’ Hirandar whispered, ‘Gromm will forgive a Brother his sins, allow him admission to the Misty Halls – regardless of the wishes of the other Ancestor-Gods. For Gromm is the strongest of all the Gods, and none can stand against him – save Odrin.’

‘Odrin?’ Baek murmured. ‘Forgrun said Odrin is the King of all the Rhungari Gods?’

‘Yes,’ Hirandar said softly. ‘Odrin is the Lord of the Ancestor-Gods, but it is not his place to decide admittance to the Misty Halls. For he is the eldest of the Gods, the father to all. If the choice were to Odrin, he would never turn any Rhungar away from his halls. However, this simply cannot be. So Odrin must leave the other Gods to decide who enters the Misty Halls. And if Gromm wishes a Rhungar to enter the Halls, there is no other who has the strength to oppose him.’

Harnan led the company across the cavern, past the campfires of the Storm Hammers. They had burnished heavy armour, which had a dark blue sheen, and wore long black cloaks – black was the Rhungar colour of piety and responsibility. All Rhungars were stern, but none were more sullen than these Storm Hammers.

‘Don’t stare!’ Hirandar murmured at Baek. ‘Those Rhungars are not fond of the Aborle.’

‘They have no axes?’ Baek said in amazement.

‘The Storm Hammers,’ Hirandar whispered, ‘as the name suggests, carry a warhammer – the Rhungari weapon of retribution.’ Hirandar took a shifty look around before she continued, ‘Rhungars believe storms happen when the Gods are angry, and the Storm Hammers fight to appease the wrath of the Gods. They are the avengers of the Rhungar world, the grudge bearers who will right any slight committed against their people. They are also the custodians of the Rhungar temples, and absolute
sticklers
for tradition.’

Taem marvelled at how much information the Wizard had on the Rhungars, but he knew Hirandar had spent years studying their ways.

 

‘I wouldn’t want you if you were the last man in the whole of Hathlore!’ Jvarna hissed under her breath, as she and Drual followed Harnan and Logan – who were talking amongst themselves about the Krun threat.

‘You don’t need to pretend with me anymore,’ Drual smirked, as the warriors made for the torch-lit tunnel out of the first antechamber.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about?’ Jvarna snarled.

‘You
know
.’ Drual smiled.

Jvarna scowled, ‘The only thing you’re going to know is the back of my hand–’

‘Woa!’ Drual threw his hands wide, ‘settle down my Lady! There’ll be plenty of time for that later…’


What!’
Jvarna screamed. ‘You big-headed buffoon! I’d sooner kiss a Rhungar!’

At which many Rhungars, sitting around the campfires, turned to the Shacainian. Jvarna went the deepest shade of purple, as she hurried on to catch up Logan.

‘Well, my Lady,’ Drual grinned at Jvarna, ‘as you can see,’ the rogue gestured to the many watching Rhungars, ‘that can easily be arranged!’

 

The Hand of Fire went through another set of great gates, into Khan Zhen’s main chamber, the Under City. They were all struck dumb. Even Logan and Hirandar, and the two Rhungars, were awed to silence by the incredible spectacle. Taem gazed up at the vast roof, hundreds of feet overheard. The Rhungars called this vast space a chamber, but Taem thought that was an inadequate word to describe the sheer size of this immense space. The Under City was as big as Gulren. How the mountain peak was supported by little but air was a structural impossibility.


Amazing
!’ Taem whispered. Taem had to blink and refocus his eyes, but they were not deceiving him. The massive roof seemed to have nothing to hold it up! It was the most astonishing architecture Taem had yet seen.

‘I told yhee that yhee do be impressed!’ Forgrun grinned at Baek, as the Aborle gazed over the Under City in wonder.

‘Durin’ day time,’ Harnan said, ‘ye city chamber be lit by outside light via a system o’ shafts an’ mirrors.’

But as it was night, Taem looked out over the Under City and saw how it was covered in a blanket of lights, each one a twinkling glow of warmth in the darkness of the underground. Staring up, he saw how crystals gleamed far overheard, reflecting the light below, and he wondered if the Rhungars had embedded their own stars in the rock ceiling of their Under City. Taem could see there were hundreds of giant iron braziers, full of smouldering red coal, scattered over the rock floor. They bathed the entire chamber in a red glow, giving the Under City a welcoming feel, and the impression of great strength. The rumble of hundreds of Rhungar conversations circled around the city, both in Grumbold and the common tongue.

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