Table of Contents

The Staff of Sakatha

by Tom Liberman

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Thank you, mom, for your proofreading expertise.

Thanks to my gaming group; Alex, Andy, Brad, Fred, Jon, and Nick for providing me a playground with which to imagine Corland.

Thank you, Jesus Garcia Lopez for the wonderful cover.

Please visit my blog to keep updated on the next novel in the Tales of Corland saga.

Prolog

The long staff appeared to be a white crocodile on the point of its tale in the hands of the gaunt child of the dragon who glanced back and forth between the precipice at his back and the approaching horsemen to his front. He wore what once were gaudy robes, but the silver and gold stitch-work was ripped away, leaving long rents in the fabric, and the collar was torn to reveal a heavy coat of chain mail underneath. At his feet two other children of the dragon were on their knees, their hands pressed together, eyes closed, and heads tilted up towards the sky.

The smaller of the two, who wore a heavy silver necklace with a brilliant green snake carved of jade, coiled and ready to strike, looked up to the standing dragonchild and gazed at him for a moment, “Lord Sakatha,” it hissed through front fangs as its long narrow tongue slithered out of its mouth, “the Emperor’s men are coming. We must pray for salvation.”

“There is no salvation,” said Sakatha and tapped the end of his staff on the ground. “The Black Horseman is at their head and he will not negotiate, he will not take prisoners, he will not be corrupted; he and his companions will slay us and take the staff for their own.”

“How can this be?” asked the other dragonchild. “You promised that the emperor would be defeated that you would rule the world, that the children of the dragons would rule at your side.”

Sakatha moved his eyes to take in the second of his companions and stared at him for a long moment, an instant that seemed to draw out immeasurably considering that the extent of their lifespan equaled the time it would take the horsemen to arrive at the cliff. “I was wrong,” he finally said. “Is it that difficult to fathom that I underestimated the power of the emperor?”

“I don’t understand,” wailed the creature at his feet that clutched wildly at the symbol around his chest. “You will save us, Great Sakatha, won’t you?”

Sakatha shook his head once again and planted the staff firmly in the ground to await the arrival of their pursuers. It was the matter of only a few more minutes before the six horsemen appeared at the plateau where the three dragonchildren awaited.

The obvious leader of the horsemen was a darkling with deep purple skin and silver eyes. He rode a massive black unicorn and even the animal’s horn was the color of night. Fire came from its nostrils as it breathed and the rider looked at Sakatha with a narrow smile and eyes squinted to a slit. “This is the end, Sakatha,” he said. “I come by order of the emperor himself from the throne of kings in mighty Das’von. You have been convicted in absentia of treason to the empire. Do you deny your guilt?”

Sakatha shook his head slowly and looked up at the sun that rose high in the sky. “You would be nothing more than a worm crawling under the ground had you not that black sphere around your neck,” said Sakatha as he pointed to the neck of the lead rider where the black sphere seemed to emanate darkness that spread over the man.

“I do wear it though,” said the Black Horseman. “And I carry the order of your execution under the seal of the emperor,” he went on and produced a large envelope sealed in wax with a symbol of a running cheetah. “Do you choose to fight or accept your punishment with dignity?”

“You wish me to fight,” said Sakatha. “You wish me to invoke the power of the staff I created. My token of rule is my own, crafted by my hand, not stolen from someone else,” he said and almost spat the words as he glared at the black ball around the neck of the leader.

“We nomads,” said the rider with a wave of his hand towards his companions, “are a desert people. We accept the sunrise as the herald of the day and the sunset as the harbinger of the night. You are who you are, Sakatha. You are as you have always been. You will do what is in your own best interest. I have traveled far to find you and am not adverse to stringing out the pleasure I will enjoy at killing you and the high priests of your blasphemous religion.”

“Death to you, Ming!” screamed one of the children of dragon on his knees and started to rise to his feet as he muttered strange words and reached into his robe for something.

Before he even managed to get both feet under him one of the riders spurred his horse with such rapidity that the beast was under way seemingly before the priest started to rise. A sword flashed out from under the heavy riding cloak of the nomad and pierced the eye of the priest in an instant. The rider made a flicking motion with his hand, the tip of the blade ripped the eyeball from its socket, which then flew over the edge of the small precipice, and disappeared into the depths of the chasm.

The priest screamed, clutched the hole where his eye once was, fell first to his knees, then face down on ground, and whimpered while he clutched at his face.

The second priest watched in silence for a moment and then stood, his arms raised high in surrender, “Mighty Left Hand,” he said and turned to the rider. “Might I beg for mercy?”

“Now you think to address me by my proper title,” said the horseman with a shake of his head. “After you and your kind betrayed the emperor’s daughter and tried to take her city. Now you think to plead for mercy after your minions murdered every human child in Stav’rol when they refused your kind offer of alliance, now you think that?”

“It wasn’t me,” said the priest, but then a gush of blood came from his throat as Sakatha the Great cut it with a single swipe of a curving knife that glowed with green energy. The man gurgled for a moment with a strange little sound, then fell to the ground, and slowly bled out his life as he twitched pitifully.

“I grew tired of his voice,” said Sakatha. “Do you mind that I took the liberty Ming? Or should I use your many honorifics, Black Horseman, Left Hand of the Emperor, Demon Rider, He of the Lonely Charge?”

“Titles are pleasant,” said the darkling, “but in the end are merely flatteries of bygone deeds. You wouldn’t want to tell me where that noxious steed of yours has flown off to, now would you?”

“Chusarausea the Toxic you mean,” said Sakatha and raised his eyebrows to look at the leader of the horsemen with a puzzled expression.

“The stench of that foul beast still haunts the wardrobe of the emperor’s daughter,” said Ming with a sad shake of his head. “What she saw in you I cannot fathom. It was clear to me from the beginning ….”

Here a moan from the man on the ground interrupted his speech.

“Kill him already,” said the Demon Rider and his orders were carried out instantly. “Now, where were we?”

“Queen Doria, the delightful daughter of our august majesty,” replied Sakatha with a polite nod of his head. “Perhaps she admired my staff. It is rather lengthy,” he went on and caressed the long staff held in his right hand and smiled broadly.

“So I’ve heard,” said Ming with a sudden smile on his dark face and he laughed. “You face death as a nomad might, Sakatha, I admire that. Tell me where the dragon has gone and the secrets to the staff and I’ll make sure your death is quick.”

“That I will not do,” said the dragonchild with a shake of his head and he lifted the staff again and pounded it into the ground. This time the thing suddenly shook and a moment later instead of a living crocodile it took on the shape of a mummified beast of the same type. Where once brilliant green scales were carved up the length of the spine, now tapered and decayed wraps stood instead.

“An interesting trick,” said the Black Horseman, his five companions suddenly tense and spread out in a semi-circle around the child of the dragon.

“Have no fear,” said Sakatha but the voice was not strong anymore, it was suddenly wheezing and weak like that of an old man. “My last trick will be of no harm to you.”

“You will cheat me of killing you,” said Ming as he watched the dragonchild’s face suddenly grow old in a mask of wrinkles, then the skin crumbled away and left behind a skull as the robes drooped on the now skeletal frame. “You kill yourself?”

“No,” said the rickety voice that somehow came out of the living skull. Sakatha still stood but as some sort of undead monstrous copy of his original form. “I am no longer Sakatha the Great, ruler of the children of dragons, King of the Marshes and Swamps, I am now Sakatha the Undying, Sakatha the Lich Lord, Sakatha who Shall Rise.”

“Interesting,” said the Demon Rider and pursed his lips with a smile. “When, might I ask out of curiosity, will this rebirth take place?”

The skull had no lips by which to reveal its teeth and smile, but that was the impression it gave off in any case. “Ages from now, when the Staff of Sakatha is recovered, when Chusarausea wields it, I shall return, I shall fulfill my destiny, I shall rule the world!”

The Black Horseman shook his head for a moment and then drew out the slimmest of scimitars that glinted with a flash as the sun caught its blade, “Nothing for me to worry about then,” he said and made a little motion with his head as he and his companions closed in on the thing that was once king of all the children of dragons.

Chapter 1

A rider on a brown splotched fox trotter emerged from the low rolling mist that tended to gather around the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc much like a swimmer might suddenly break the surface of a high mountain lake after a deep dive. He wore a long gray cloak fringed with a floral arrangement on the collar of both the neck and sleeves, and his horse seemed small for his frame as the stirrups were so low that they almost dragged the ground. He stopped for a moment, pulled out a well tattered of parchment, and looked back over his shoulder towards the narrow path that led high into the peaks. Ahead of him a small river flowed from his right to his left and he traced a blue gash on his map that was labeled “Frosty Run.”

As he read the map his youthful face showed a square jaw with no trace of manly whiskers and light gray eyes that danced in the morning light. A broad smile, so genuine and happy that it seemed to cause even the birds to chirp with a little extra vigor, came across his face. He tucked the map back under the gray cloak, turned the horse to his left with a subtle movement of his hand, and began to follow the river downstream.

A few hours more and the mists of the mountain morning lay far behind him as he came to a river junction where another stream flowed from the north into the Frosty Run. He stopped again to pull out his map only to smile even more deeply than the first time and let out a great, “Whooop!” that echoed so deeply and loudly that a woman who tended to her kettle in a farmhouse almost a mile away looked up and around for a moment before she went back to work.

In the distance the rider saw smoke from what must be the chimneys of a small town, he dismounted quickly, and stood next to the horse so that they were shoulder to shoulder. He rubbed the mane and neck of the beast with gentle motions of hands so enormously large that the horse appeared to be a small version of the breed. “Eschrichtius,” he said and leaned down to whisper in its ear, “many miles, many months but now we are close to our destination, we will complete our mission.” Tche young man looked up to the sky, his hand fell on the thick gray scabbard at his side where a stone handled hilt protruded, and he ran his finger over it lightly, “For the Gray!” he shouted and slapped the horse on the rump, which launched the trotter into motion, and it pranced over the fields and left the young warrior behind for the moment.

He stripped off his gray cloak and revealed a rather skinny frame considering the tremendous size of his hands and then pulled off a heavy chain shirt and the jerkin below it. Within a few moments he was naked, his well-tanned and muscled body still yet to completely fill out. He took three enormous strides towards the river, dove in with a great splash, and screamed out in pain and ecstasy as his body hit the cold mountain runoff.

Ten minutes later, still swimming in the river with massive overhand stokes, he felt a presence and, with a look to the shore, spotted a young man near an eddy in the river with a small keg in his arms. Behind the boy stood a two-wheeled barrow with half a dozen more of the small kegs stacked neatly in it, on it side was emblazoned a symbol of a frothy mug of beer with the name “Smooth Stride” etched below.

“Hail there, boy,” shouted the young man in the river and stood so that the upper half of his body was revealed. “Is this Elekargul and do you understand me?”

The young boy nodded his head, his eyes wide as he stared at the behemoth in the river. The boy wore a heavy wool coat and deerhide pants that were worn and sturdy at the same time. “You have a funny accent,” he replied, “But I understand you.”

“I’ve been studying the whole trip,” said the young man in the river with a shake of his head that sent water cascading in all directions. “Father made me promise.”

“Who … who are you?” said the boy. The keg still dangled in his left hand and his eyes squinted a little to get a better look. As he glanced around the boy spotted the pile of clothes that included the chain shirt and the thick scabbard with the stone hilt and took a step backwards away from the river.

“I am Jon Gray, son of the Gray Lord, ambassador of Tanelorn the City of Gray. I come to Elekargul to meet with the First Rider and conduct affairs of the state.”

“Oh,” said the boy.

“I’ll come ashore there and get dressed if you don’t mind. I don’t mean you any harm,” continued the naked young warrior in the river.

The boy on the shore nodded his head and backed away further yet.

Jon emerged from the water, his thin frame somewhat blue from the short immersion. He strode up to the young man, gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder, and stuck out his hand, “Jon Gray at your service,” he said.

The boy looked up at the young man who stood at least a foot taller than him and whose body was half again as wide at the chest.

“Sorus Brewer,” he said with a look over his shoulder towards the smoke that rose down river. “I’m a brewing apprentice from Black Dale. I’m getting fresh water from the creek. How tall are you?”

Jon laughed aloud his deep voice booming and young Sorus suddenly found he couldn’t stop the laugh that rose to his own throat and, he smiled brightly. He thought to himself that nothing could go wrong with this enormous young man at his side. It was the first time he had the thought but many years later he still remembered the moment and how true it was in so many respects and yet how utterly and completely wrong it was at the same time.

“I like beer,” said Jon. “My father says too much, but what do old people know?”

Sorus laughed again, “He sounds like my dad. You are really tall, I’m near six feet and everyone says I’m the tallest boy in town for my age, maybe in all of Elekargul. Taller than a lot of the squires and some of the knights too.”

“I’m just short of seven feet myself,” said Jon with smile as he turned his back to the boy and began to gather up his clothes and pull them onto his wet frame with apparently no concern at all. “My sister says all my growing happened to my body not my brain, but what do girls know?”

Sorus laughed again, “Not much. How old are you, I’m fifteen but I’ll be sixteen in a six month.”

“Seventeen by now I’d guess. When I left Tanelorn I was sixteen but it’s been a long trip.”

“I’ve never heard of Tanelorn,” said Sorus a rather sheepish expression on his face. “Is it past Adas Jdar?”

“It’s north, far to the north near the center of the continent, have you heard of the Lake of the Demons?”

The boy shook his head.

“Hmm,” said Jon Gray. “Lonely Mountain?”

The boy shook his head.

“You’ve heard of Tarlton, the City in the Sand at least, right?”

The boy nodded his head, “That’s thousands of miles to the north but I’ve heard of it.”

“If you go to Tarlton and then travel the same distance twice more you’d be near Tanelorn,” said Jon Gray his smile suddenly seemed to widen further as he noted the wide eyed look of disbelief on the boy’s face. “You don’t believe me?”

“That’s all wild lands, filled with terrible monsters, you couldn’t have come all that way on horseback?”

“No, no,” said Jon with a smile. “I portaled to Sea’cra, that took some doing, and then caught a ship to Tarlton where my father wanted me to make some contacts. Then I continued on to Doria”

“You know how to use the old portals?” the boy said his eyes wide again, and he moved away from the young knight of gray.

“Not me, my father has a working one in the basement of his house and my brother Valary can make it go to some places,” said the Jon. “That was the first time I’ve used it. Val said he didn’t know any reliable ones further south so he sent me to Sea’cra instead.”

“Oh, said Sorus. “I’ve heard people talk about Sea’cra but it’s way, way north. I know about Doria too, that’s the City of Spiders and they have spider wizards that can cast spells that suck out all your juices just like spiders can.”

“Well,” said Jon an indulgent smile on his face. “Actually the city is filled with ancient towers dating back to the Old Empire and there are all these walkways between them so that when you see it from a distance it sort of looks like a spider web.”

“And these spider wizards,” went on the boy apparently oblivious to Jon, “They worship an eight legged woman who lives in the darkling lands. And they have fangs just like spiders and can spin webs from their … you know.”

“I’m not really sure there are any spider wizards actually,” went on Jon.

“And when they get married and have babies the women have dozens and dozens of little spider babies instead of a real person!” said Sorus his voice rising in excitement.

“If that was true …,” started Jon but was interrupted by the excited boy yet again.

“I even heard they eat their own young if they aren’t promising enough as wizards so only the really evil ones survive!”

“I guess that could be,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders. “How far away from that village of yours have you ever been?”

Sorus suddenly seemed to hear something Jon said and stopped his chatter to think for a moment, “I guess I’ve only really been in Black Dale mostly, although once I went with the brew master to Black Roost when I was a kid.”

“It’s a big world out there,” said Jon Gray now almost completely dressed. “Why don’t you let me give you hand filling up those kegs and we’ll head back to town. You can tell me who is important and who isn’t, does that sound fair?”

The boy nodded his head almost mechanically and then seemed to shake off his dazed expression. “I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry!”

Jon grabbed one of the small kegs from the barrow in each hand and walked them over to the river where he uncorked them and dunked them in the water.

Sorus did the same with the keg he was holding but used both hands and the weight of his body to push the thing under water so that it began to fill. The gurgling sound of the water as it flowed into the kegs filled the air for a few moments but then, when his was full, Sorus hauled it out of the water with some effort and stoppered it. He bent at the knees and put his arms around the barrel to get it up on his shoulder before he straightened his legs and slowly walked to the barrow. By the time he managed to roll it off his shoulder and carefully onto the wheelbarrow he found Jon Gray standing next to him one barrel under each arm and with a gay smile on his face. “What’s that bird there?” he asked apparently not even aware of the weight of the kegs, and pointed, with his chin to a small bird with a black band around its yellow feathered neck.

“That’s a Sandgrouse, I think, a yellow throated one they call it,” said Sorus as he looked at the bird for a moment. By the time he turned around Jon already had two more kegs at the river and pushed them under with an easy motion. Sorus grabbed the last keg and rushed over to join him. “You don’t have to do all the work,” he said and pushed his own barrel under.

“Who is in charge of that village, you called it Black Valley?” said Jon as the water gurgled into his kegs.

“Black Dale,” said Sorus his own keg filled quickly in the fast running river. “This twelve month it is Sir Thorius Brokenhand. He’s all right I guess but a bit of a blowhard,” continued the boy and suddenly looked around. When he saw they were alone. “Kind of a complete blowhard mostly but Thaddeus says most of the Brokenhands are that way.”

“Right, right,” said Jon Gray as the water filled up his kegs and he hauled them out of the river. “You guys have a whole naming thing. You’re Sorus Brewer because you’ll never be a knight just a commoner, right?”

“I could be a knight,” said Sorus and then after a pause a look of determination crossed his face as his jaw tightened and his lips came together. “I will be a knight. Anyone can be a knight if they do something heroic. I’m going to be a Coppercoin! Then maybe I’ll even do something so great I’ll get my own name!”

Jon looked at him with a half-smile and nodded his head. “I’m not sure what all that means, Sorus, but if you can be a knight by doing something heroic I’m sure you will be.”

Sorus suddenly felt himself blush like when he spoke to one of the prettier girls in town and he wanted to do something to impress this boy who was a year or so  older. “Coppercoin is the name a commoner takes if he gets knighted.”

“Really,” said Jon with a smile. “So you get assigned a name when first knighted?”

“Well,” said Sorus as he loaded the last barrel into the wheelbarrow and then bent down to grab it by the handles.

“Here, we’ll each take one handle, are you right or left strong?” said Jon and leaned down with him.

“Are you really a lord’s son?” asked Sorus as they each grabbed a handle and began to wheel the laden barrow back to town.

“My father is the Gray Lord,” said Jon, “that just means he’s sort of in charge in Tanelorn but I’m not a lord or anything, just a gray knight, but that’s about the best thing you can be if you live in the gray city.”

Sorus looked at the huge warrior’s gray cloak and then at his gray eyes, “Is everything gray in Tanelorn?” he asked.

Jon Gray laughed out loud again and Sorus once more found himself laughing along although he wasn’t exactly sure what was so funny. “No, no. My father is a bit of a fanatic about neutrality. Gray is half way between black and white, good and evil, right and wrong, blah blah blah, blah blah. He’s always telling me to avoid the extremes and find middle ground but mostly he just gets mad at me and says I’m headstrong and young. My sister says I’m the stupid one of the family.”

“I have a sister like that,” said Sorus. “Is she older or younger?”

“That,” said Jon with a shake his head, “is the bane of my existence. You wouldn’t think twelve minutes would make that much difference but …,” and then he shrugged his shoulders.

“Mine’s older too,” said Sorus and reached up to clap Jon on the shoulder.

Jon reached over and put his arm around the lad and the two walked towards town together as they pushed the laden wheelbarrow along. With a look back the tall lad pursed his lips and whistled, a moment later the trotter appeared from a small copse of woods and followed them into town.

Chapter 2

“Here he comes,” said a small girl of about ten years and poked an older girl who had the same dark red hair and orcish jawbone common to half human half orc children. “Shia loves Sorus, Shia loves Sorus,” she chanted as the two jumped out from behind a tree. The older girl carried a bucket filled with water and began to walk down the narrow path as she pretended she did not see the boys with the wheelbarrow.

“Shut up, Rhia,” she whispered with a narrow eyed glance at her little sister.

“Who is the other one?” said Rhia and stopped to gaze at the man so much taller and broader than Sorus. “He’s tall and handsome!”

Shia stopped as well and pretended to notice the duo for the first time, “Oh, hello there, Sorus,” she said and lifted her head so that her nose was slightly elevated, “Off fetching water, brew boy?”

Sorus suddenly stopped and let go of the handle of the wheelbarrow which caused his half to fall to the ground.

“Watch it,” said Jon and then his eyes came to rest on Shia and Rhia. The taller of the girls was in the full blossom of womanhood with clear green eyes, long legs, well defined arms, and thrusting young breasts only half covered by an open necked collar. “Hello Dolly,” he said with a wink at the girl.

Sorus stood and stammered for a moment, “Ohh … I … hello Shia,” he finally blurted out his and face suddenly turned quite red.

Jon put down his handle of the barrow and walked over to the girls which left Sorus to stand and stammer alone. “What’s your name?” he said with a broad smile, looking down at the younger girl. Suddenly he took her around the waist, lifted her high, and tossed her upwards so that she actually spun completely around, and then caught her in his massive hands. “You two must be sisters, each one prettier than the next. What’s a boy to do?”

“I’m only ten,” said the younger girl who flushed bright red and laughed as she was held. “My name’s Rhia Quick and this is my sister Shia Speed.”

“Hello,” said Shia her eyes wide and she looked up at the impossibly tall and handsome boy. “Are you new to town?” She covered her mouth, “That’s a stupid question.”

“Fresh off the turnip wagon,” said Jon and put down Rhia and gave the older girl a chuck to the chin. “Sorus here was just showing me around but he didn’t mention how pretty the girls are in this place.” Jon turned to Sorus who still stood with his mouth open. “Sorus, shame on you!”

“I … I’m sorry?” stuttered the boy after a moment.

“You talk funny,” said Rhia with a laugh.

“Funny how,” said Jon and smiled broadly at the girl.

“I don’t know,” she said suddenly and turned her face down to look at the ground.

“Funny like, Blahad gaido daiafab papagafoop?”

Both girls laughed out loud and covered their mouths while Sorus stood there for a long moment until he felt he had to say something. “C’mon Jon, I have to get the water to the Smooth Stride or Thaddeus will have my head,” and he turned to grab the handle of the wheelbarrow and lift it up.

Jon winked at the older girl one more time, picked up the little one once again and twirled her in his arms, set her on his shoulders with a gentle thump, and then joined his friend at the wheelbarrow as he took a handle and started into town. His horse appeared at that moment and trotted along at an easy pace.

“Is that your horse?” said Rhia from his shoulders, crinkling her nose, and looking at the beast.

“It certainly is, and a fine one at that. He might not look like much but he’s Tarltonite bred and strong enough to carry a big tubbo like me a thousand miles.”

“You’re not fat,” said Shia, again giggling, and covering her mouth.

“Come on,” said Sorus as he stamped his foot, and his face red with anger instead of blush.

Jon clapped the young boy on the shoulder and smiled broadly, “Sorus is right as always,” he said and the young brewer found his anger evaporated by the good humor of the young giant. “We need to get that water back to the … Smooth Stride?”

“Right,” said Sorus. “Sir Thaddeus wants to start early to try a new recipe.”

A few minutes later the four arrived in front of a one story wooden structure painted yellow and green and decorated with golden barley spikes where a tall Hobgoblin with dark skin and a scowl on his face stood at the front door. “Sorus,” he said. “I told you to bring back seven kegs of water, not a great oaf and two pretty girls.”

The brewer boy smiled and shrugged his shoulders, “I found Jon at the creek and we met up with the girls on the way back.”

“Thaddeus Redhand,” said the Hobgoblin as he came forward to take the hand of Jon Gray. “Sorus, take that water in back and pour it into the number two and three vats.”

The boy immediately began to unload the wagon, one keg at a time, and hustle them into the building.

Jon stood about six inches taller than the Hobgoblin and grasped his hand firmly. “Jon Gray,” he said. “I’m here as an ambassador from Tanelorn.”

“Is it common for dignitaries to act as horses for the girls of town?” said Thaddeus with a wink to Rhia still on Jon’s shoulders. The girl giggled and nodded her head.

“It’s been known to happen,” said Jon as he bent down to a knee, lifted the girl off his shoulders, and planted her on the ground.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said with a little courtesy.

“A pleasure, milady,” said Jon and bowed deeply.

“If you’re here to make alliances you’ll want to see our mayor for the twelve month, Sir Thorius Brokenhand,” said Thaddeus.

“Sorus said something about a twelve month,” said Jon. “I’m not particularly familiar with your ways, what does that mean?”

“Each knight of Elekargul serves twelve months in the field and then twelve months in a town learning a trade,” said Thaddeus. “I’m learning the brewing business this twelve month, but you might be assigned as a carpenter, a mason, a tailor, an administrator, or any other job the first knight thinks might help you become a more rounded man.”

“Gotta be a bit dull,” said Jon as the two walked into the building where half a dozen wooden table were arranged in neat order, their chairs stacked on them perfectly. “After a combat tour how can you stand to brew beer and wait tables?”

“It’s more interesting than you might think,” said Thaddeus. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” said Jon.

“They grow them big in, where did you say you were from again?” said Thaddeus as the two sat down at one of the tables after they pulled down a pair of chairs.

“Tanelorn,” said Jon.

“I’ve heard of it, is it beyond Relm?” asked Thaddeus a puzzled expression on his face.

Jon nodded and smiled, “Yes, far beyond Relm, I would guess, although I’ve never heard of that place. Tanelorn is the gray city near the center of the continent east to west but near the frozen lands to the north.”

“Oh,” said Thaddeus his eyes wide. “That is a long way away. What could anyone from there want way down here in the Dorian Peninsula?”

Jon closed his lips and shook his head, “I’m sorry, Thaddeus, but that is something I am supposed to speak about only with the First Rider.”

“So you know about the First Rider then,” said the knight with a nod of his head.

“I have studied what we know of your people on my journey here,” said Jon, “But I’m afraid most of it is either old or of dubious reliability. I came on ship from Tarlton, and Sea’cra before that, and I’ve gathered as much information as I could while traveling. There is a Hobgoblin nation to the north of here, Hakor something or another?”

“Hakor’lum,” said Thaddeus. “It’s fairly far north though. I’m from a village of Hobgoblins in Hram’dros the orc nation to our east. You probably came through there if you traveled from Doria unless you braved the lands of the Formia?”

“The insect folk,” said Jon with a shrug his shoulders. “I was advised to avoid them so you’re right. I did come through Hram’dros. They consider the knights of Elekargul to be quite fearsome foes and cannot understand your nation’s aversion to slavery.”

Thaddeus laughed aloud. “They might not understand it but I’m grateful for it. As a Hobgoblin in Hram’dros I was a slave, although a willing warrior. I was wounded and captured while raiding Elekargul. It didn’t take me long to realize that a life of freedom is preferable to old loyalties and I was able to aid my new home in battle and gain my knighthood.”

“Yes, what did Sorus say your name was, Redhand?” said Jon. “And the girls, they are sisters but they have different last names? It seems confusing.”

Sorus took that moment to stick his head out from a back room. “I’ve got the water in the vats Thaddeus, do you want me to start mashing the barley?”

“Go ahead and get started,” said Thaddeus. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Where were we Jon?”

“Names, it’s a bit confusing how it’s all set up,” said the powerful lad and sat back in his chair. “You don’t have any beer ready to go by any chance? I’ve been traveling for over a month since I left Doria.”

“Of course, how inhospitable of me, Lara!” he called out and a young girl not yet into her teens appeared a moment later from somewhere in the back. She looked at the young man who sat next to Thaddeus and her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped before she came over. “Lara, get Jon here a Smooth Strider, will you?”

The girl curtsied quickly and nodded her head up and down, “Yes, Sir Thaddeus. Hello,” she said to Jon and smiled at him. While Jon was seated they were almost eye to eye.

“Scoot now, Lara,” said Thaddeus and the girl shut her mouth, turned around, and dashed off towards a long bar near the side of the big chamber.

“You’re going to have to fight them off,” said Thaddeus.

“I’m not much good at fighting, at least that kind,” said Jon with a smile.

“Hmm, I doubt that, but in any case, you wanted to know about how people are named, right?” said Thaddeus.

“Right,” said Jon with a nod, his eyes watching as the young girl pulled down on a tap and a golden amber liquid poured into a large mug. “The sisters with the different names?”

“All girls are named by their mother or aunt’s name as a given name and then Quick as the surname until they are of marrying age then they are called Speed. That way any knight knows if a girl is ready to be married or not.”

“What is the marrying age?” asked Jon as the young girl came over and carefully set the drink down in front of him.

“I hope you like it,” she said with a smile.

“Run along now, Lara Quick,” said Thaddeus and the girl frowned at him and wrinkled her nose.

“It’s up to the father to decided when a girl is eligible for marriage, or an uncle or brother if the father is not available to make that decision. Once the girl marries she takes on the given name of her husband as her own last name.”

“I think I see,” said Jon with a shrug. “And apprentice boys and what not take the name of their job, so Sorus’s surname is Brewer.”

“That’s right,” said Thaddeus. “Boys like that who are not chosen as squires by the time they are ten usually became lifetime craftsmen. Often they are actually the ones who run things and a knight doing his twelve month learns from them.”

“And the knights themselves?” asked Jon.

“Well, that’s a bit complex. When you are granted knighthood you can choose your own last name but it has to be from the list of acceptable names,” said Thaddeus. “You’re supposed to pick something that fits your temperament but people don’t always do that.”

“And you’re a Redhand?” said Jon.

“Correct again. It’s considered good form to take the name Redhand if in the battle in which you earned your knighthood you killed more than a single foe,” said Thaddeus with a shrug of his shoulders.

“And you achieved that?” said Jon.

“I was fortunate,” said Thaddeus, “but, to answer your question, yes.”

“And who makes the list of acceptable names?” said Jon as he took a long draught from his beer. “Ahh, quite delicious. Maybe the girl should bring me another as I might go through this one quickly.”

“Lara,” shouted Thaddeus but the girl, who watched closely from nearby, was already up and filled a second mug.

“When Brutus Brokenhand first settled in Elekargul he had two dozen of his trusted warriors with him and each of those men became the original named knights. But, if a knight does something particularly noteworthy then he is allowed to choose his own name to add to the roles. Redhand for example is one of those. During a particularly bloody battle a knight of Elekargul stabbed a terrible creature so deeply that he ended up pulling out the thing’s heart which stayed beating in his hand for a moment, thus Redhand.”

“That’s what Sorus meant about getting his own name,” said Jon. “He also said something about being a Coppercoin?”

“Yes, Coppercoin is the name that a young un-squired knight can take if he performs heroically on the field of battle to gain his knighthood. A lot of the boys want to be Coppercoins but they are few and far between. The original story is quite interesting but I think maybe it’s time you went to see Thorius Brokenhand before you have too many Smooth Striders,” suggested Thaddeus as he noted the speed with which the young man poured beer down his throat.

Jon gave his not quite empty second mug a rather forlorn look but then nodded his head and smiled, “You’re right of course Thaddeus. It’s been such a long journey I got a bit carried away. Which way to the mayor?”

“You’ll make a left out the door and then walk about two blocks until you come to a larger thoroughfare heading east and west. Take a left there and when you get to the red brick building that’s the place. You can ask anyone along the way and they’ll be glad to help you, Jon. You’re going to be quite an attraction here in Black Dale.”

Jon stood and looked at Thaddeus for a moment. “You’ve been a big help and so was young Sorus. He handled himself quite well. You wouldn’t know where I might find the First Rider?”

Thaddeus shook his head, “The First Rider is out on patrol and I’m serving my administrative twelve month so I’m not really in the loop. You might want to stop by the mason. Sir Odellius is an old friend of the First Rider and might know more.”

“Thank you again, Thaddeus. I’m certain I’ll see you around town for the next little while at least and perhaps I’ll stay long enough for you to join me in the field!”

Thaddeus nodded head and then turned towards the back of the shop, “Now be careful with the barley,” he shouted and strode through the door.

Chapter 3

“What do you think, Mikus?” said a tall knight who wore a golden tunic with the symbol of four horseshoes that faced out from each other with a broken hand symbol in the middle. His hair was gray at the temples and thin on top and his steady blue eyes gazed at a younger man dressed in a plain tunic that bore the four horseshoe symbol but was empty in the middle. The older knight sat in a high backed leather chair behind a large oak desk clear of papers, although an inkwell and feather pen rested on it. The room contained a number of hunting trophies on the walls and a heavy carpet, both thick and lush, covered the floor.

“Everyone saw him come into town with the brewer boy this morning and he was talking with the blacksmith’s daughters. Nobody knows much about him yet but he’s going to have to come here eventually dad,” said the young man who fingered a slim sword scabbarded at his side.

“The symbol on his cloak, some kind of plant, what’s that all about?” said the man.

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know dad. Why don’t you send for him?”

“Let him come to me,” said the man and pursed his lips. “There is something strange going on for a fellow like that to just show up in Black Dale. We’ll have the First Rider breathing down our necks soon enough and that sanctimonious Coppercoin never liked me, not since we took the challenge together that one year.”

“He’s always been nice to me, dad,” said the boy as his face broke into a small smile.

“That’s because he knows it will make me angry, Mikus,” said the man. “Mark my words, son, mark my words. That stranger brings trouble to Elakargul and trouble to me. The faster we can get rid of him the faster we get back to our way of life.”

Just then the outer door of the chamber opened and a plain looking woman with dark eyes peeked her head inside. “Sir Thorius, there is a young man here to see you.”

“Thank you, Servellia, you can show him in,” said the older man and then made a motion with his hand to Mikus. “Sit down there and pay close attention to everything he says. I want to make sure I remember every word in case we can use it against him later.”

“But, dad,” started Mikus but was cut off from further discussion by a hard glance from his father.

A moment later Jon Gray strode into the room, a huge smile on his face and he nodded his head to the man behind the desk. “I’m Jon Gray from Tanelorn, my father is the Gray Lord and I’m here to discuss a matter of great importance to both our nations!”

Thorius looked at him coldly and shook his head sadly, “I have never heard of this Tanelorn or this Gray Lord of yours, how can I be expected to treat you as an ambassador if I do not even know the nation you represent?”

“I have papers,” said Jon, taking a step back, and rummaging around inside his gray jerkin.

“What on earth could papers mean to me?” said Thorius, “If I have never heard of this Tantalorn? You could have written anything about anyone. How would I know the difference? I’m sorry young man, you have come a long way for no reason. I offer you the hospitality of Black Dale for as long you would like, but that is all that I can give.”

“But,” said Jon, his smile fading for the first time, “you don’t understand, Sir Thorius.”

“I understand all too well young man,” replied the knight with a slight smile on his face and again a sad little shake of his head. “You hoped to create some sort of stir, bilk some money, or run some sort of a scam on the people of my little town. Well, it won’t work, not while I’m on watch. So, you might as well take your little confidence game somewhere outside of Elekargul. We are not a nation of people to be fooled easily.”

“But,” said Jon opening his hands to face up and spreading his arms.

“No buts,” interrupted Sir Thorius. “If you don’t leave my office immediately I’ll send for some knights. You can stay in town for a few days but if I hear word you are trying to spread any of this Tantalorn nonsense then I’ll have to do something about it. Do I make myself clear?”

“I … yes. I understand,” said Jon and stood to his full height. A look of calm replaced the anger that had threatened to burst through. “Thank you for your time today.” With that the tall young man turned and strode out of the room, his fury only barely in check. Once out into the street he managed to stifle the scream that rose in his throat but his fists clenched at his side and his jaw was tight. “Damn that bastard,” he said to himself and stood there for a long moment as walkers by stopped to gawk at the stranger for a moment before they continued on their way. It took him a little while to remember that the mason supposedly knew the First Rider but in his anger he couldn’t remember exactly where he was supposed to go. “And damn if I’ll ask any of these miserable people,” he muttered to himself.

It took him half an hour as he wandered around the small village and stewed noticing almost nothing about town before he found himself in front of the building that seemed to fit the bill. There was a placard out front which Jon couldn’t read completely but the squat stone structure and the large number of half cut and uncut stones that lay in the yard served to make it clear what kind of place it was. Jon walked around to the back and spotted an immensely fat man with a chisel in one hand and a hammer in the other at work on what was clearly a statue of an orc with a long spear. Jon moved closer and was surprised at the detail of the work even in this half-finished condition. The man who worked on it sweated profusely and, when he pulled a rag from his back pocket to mop up the overflow, noted Jon for the first time.

“Ho there, stranger,” he said with a jolly laugh. “You’re a tall one but not as big around as old Odellius Buffalorider!” he said and patted his immense stomach. While the man was quite fat he was also tremendously broad with thick shoulders far wider than Jon’s own and the muscles beneath the layers of fat in his arms were pronounced and clearly powerful.

“Pleased to meet you Odellius,” said Jon. “My name is Jon and the brewer suggested I might come talk to you.”

“Hang on now a minute there, sonny,” said the giant man and wiped more of the sweat from his brow. “Let’s take a canter over to the well and get some fluids in me. I’m leaking like a two bit orc whore who sees a rich old client.”

Jon shook his head for a moment, not sure he heard correctly, and then laughed out loud. “Anybody ever mention that you have a way with words?” he asked as he walked with the man over to the well. The mason cranked the lever with power and a gusher of water soon emerged with which he filled with a big tin cup and poured over his head. The big man repeated this process two more times and then drank two full tins with huge gulps.

“Ahh, that hits the spot. Now, where did you say you were from my little friend?”

“Tanelorn, have you heard of it?”

“The gray lands!” said Odellius. “Of course I’ve heard of it. You’re a free people just like us. No slaves, no master, each man to make his own way. There’s Caparal on the Western Ocean too but not many other free people in the world. I’ve heard tell of the Gray Lord even this far south and I’ve been to Doria and met with captains of trading vessels who tell tall tales. I know about the sea king of Cawl as well. You’re a long way from home lad.”

Jon shook his head in astonishment, “That’s all exactly right Odellius. The mayor said he’d never heard of Tanelorn, that I should get out of town.”

“Ah, yes, he’s an old Brokenhand he is,” said Odellius. “You best lay a bit low,” he continued and then looked over the seven foot tall boy and smiled with a shake of his head. “Yes, well, you won’t much be able to manage that any better than I then, will you?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Jon.

“Well, no matter, just try to stay out of trouble and the old guard can’t do much to you. We’re a free people here in Elekargul, freeriders some call us,” said the big man and offered up another cup full of water to Jon who took it, drank half and poured the rest over his head. “So, what do you think of Brutus there?”

It took the young gray knight a moment to realize the older man spoke of the sculpture in the yard, but once it sunk in, he smiled, “I like it,” said Jon with a smile. “The detail work is very nice; you must have been sculpting for many years to be so skilled?”

Odellius laughed and his massive belly jiggled about wildly, “No, no, believe it or not, fifty-five years old, a knight of Elekargul for thirty-seven of them and this is my first twelve month as a mason. The First Rider, damn him the little shrimp, said I was getting too fat to ride into battle and thought a good outdoorsy type job might thin me down a tad.”

“How long have you been sculpting then?” said Jon as he walked back towards the piece and gave it a careful look. There were half a dozen more statues in the yard of various form but they all looked to be by the same hand.

“This is my third month of the twelve,” said Odellius and stood up tall but still a full foot or shorter than Jon. His chest filled with pride and the barrel was massive and clearly contained a huge amount of muscle under the layers of fat. “I started off a bit slow but I’m getting the hang of it. A well rounded knight is a good knight is the motto of Elekargul. You should have seen me when I was tailoring. The thread and needle aren’t made for ham hocks like these,” he said and grabbed Jon by the shoulder and gave the boy a squeeze like none he ever felt before.

It took all Jon’s willpower to keep a cry of pain from his mouth but he managed to contain himself and smiled at Odellius  as his eyes almost burst out of their sockets. “You’ve done amazingly well, Odellius, what was the surname again?”

“Buffalorider,” said the big man and turned back to the stonework. “I’m going to give this another hour but then you meet me in the yard and we’ll have a tussle with the sticks. I can’t judge a man proper until I’ve battled him. Meantime you get on over to the Temple of the Black Horse and see if Sir Kentstus can set you up with a place to stay while you’re in town. I think the First Rider will be wanting to talk to you and you might as well stay here as go anywhere else. He could be riding anywhere on patrol but he’ll likely come by here to pay his respects to me and make sure I’m exercising properly.”

“There isn’t an inn in this town?” said Jon and looked around.

“You won’t find many of those in all of Elekargul. It’s considered inhospitable to have a stranger in town and not put him up. You might want to learn a little of our ways as well or you’ll be getting yourself in trouble,” said Odellius, smacking Jon on the back. The boy staggered forward a few steps.

“How’s that,” said Jon when he got his breath back.

“Don’t go admiring anyone else’s things,” said Odellius. “Here in Elekargul if a man needs something another man has, he just asks for it. He’s expected to give something of equal value in return naturally. We don’t tender coin for the most part although it comes in handy at times for dealing with outsiders. If you see something needing done then just go about doing it.”

“That’s an odd system. How do you get food, supplies?”

“You go to the shop you want and take what you need but bring something they can use. If you need a coil of rope take it but bring in hemp so they can make more or a few fish you caught out of the river so they can have lunch. That’s pretty much the way it is here in Elekargul,” said Odellius and nodded his head. “Most strangers don’t much ken to it but those of us that live here seem to like it just fine.”

“I can see how a stranger might well get himself in trouble. The mayor didn’t give me any advice on that but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Jon with a shake of his head. “What could the mayor have against me when I only just got into town?” but his words went unheard as Odellius was already back at work with his chisel at the big stone in the yard.

It took Jon only five minutes to find the temple of the Black Horse, the giant placard of the rearing black horse being a dead giveaway, and shortly after that spoke with Sir Kentstus, a thin man with decidedly hawkish features that spoke of goblin blood in his veins.

“So you need a place to stay for a bit then, Sir Jon,” said the man scratching his chin. “I’d probably better ask someone without any impressionable daughters or there’s likely to be trouble,” he said with a wink to the handsome boy.

“I can keep myself in hand,” said Jon with a smile.

“Don’t be so sure, young man,” said the middle-aged knight with a shake of his head. “We teach our girls to take what they want just like a man. The only thing they can’t be is a knight unless they got the purple face disease as a girl and can’t bear any children. Any girl named Speed is as likely to saddle up on a big handsome fellow like you as not. We better put you with boys. You seem the heroic type, might inspire a few of the lads.”

“I’ve already met Sorus Brewer,” said Jon with a helpful smile. “He and I hit it off pretty well. Does he have a place in town?”

“Right he does,” said Kentstus with a smile. “He’s a big lad too, with dreams of glory. You might well be a good influence on him. He lives on the south side of town in a little house painted red. You tell him I said it was fine to stay there while you’re in town. Any idea how long you’ll be here? No one will say anything, but you can wear out your welcome if you stay too long. Has anyone explained our rather unique economic system to you yet?”

“Sir Odellius gave me a good lecture on it,” said Jon, “and I’ll try to be careful not to offend anyone.”

“He’s a good man that one is,” said Kentstus. “A lot of those Buffaloriders are a bit too free spirited for my tastes. I’m an Openpalm myself but Odellius is a fine man and he’s fought in many a battle over the years.”

“How does one become a Buffalorider?”

“You just choose the name that seems most appropriate when you gain knighthood,” said Kentstus with a shrug. “I think Odellius chose pretty well but he’d have been a fine Brokenhand. Too many of the boys who want to be heroes but don’t have the right stuff take the name Brokenhand these days. It used to mean something when I was a lad but not anymore. A crying shame. Brutus Brokenhand will be spinning in the grave no doubt.”

“I’d like to talk with you further about Elekargul, its religion, its founding, but Odellius wanted to meet me in the yard for something about the sticks, and I’ve got to find my horse and get things unpacked or I’ll be late.”

“Going into the yard with Odellius then are you,” laughed Kentstus and took a step back to size him up. “You might just be big enough to get a win but … well, that’ll be something to see. I’m sure you’ll draw quite a crowd and I have to say I’m interested in seeing it myself. Until then, sir.”

Jon gave a little bow, “Until then.” The gray knight then walked back outside and gave a long whistle although it was several minutes before his horse found him. They made their way to the house with the red door, managed to unpack in fairly short order, and then wandered about to find the yard. It didn’t take too long as there was a crowd already gathered in a large open yard where a number of wooden swords and helmets lay in orderly rows.

The cry of, “There he is,” sounded at about the same time as he spotted his destination. It was clear he was expected. “I’ll have to go easy on the old tub,” thought Jon to himself as he approached the throng. The people of Elekargul might think Odellius a great warrior but compared to the finest Tanelorn had to offer Jon didn’t think he’d have much trouble with an overweight fifty-five year old man.

There were several hundred people gathered at the yard and that number included the rotund knight. As Jon approached a couple of young men pulled on heavy leather breastplates, slapped iron helmets on their heads, took long practice swords from the pile, and walked out into the middle of the yard. They nodded at one another and a shout from a thin man at the edge of the pitch, “Go!” sent them to it. They began to spar at first cautiously and then with heavy strokes. Eventually one of the boys managed to catch the other a strong blow to the side of the head and the second went down in a heap to the applause of the spectators.

The fallen boy shook his head a few times and took the hand of the first boy to stand. “Another go?” asked the victor with a smile on his face but the second boy’s face remained a little dazed from the blow and he shook his head. “Give me a minute or two,” he finally said as they made their way over to a set of benches where a number of other potential combatants awaited.

Odellius stood up, his massive bulk making him rock from side to side as he walked, moved quickly to Jon and clapped him on the shoulder. “Shall we have a tussle?”

Jon smiled broadly, walked over to the pile of wooden swords, and found a thick specimen that was almost the longest in the pile. Next he examined the hide breastplates and found one, that if adjusted wouldn’t be too tight, and then put on an old iron helmet that was lined with sweat stained leather and stank of too many uses without a good scrub. “Let’s go!”

By now the crowed swelled to more than three hundred spectators, as the entire village seemed to have flocked to the scene. Among those who watched was the young son of the mayor, Mikus Swift, although his father was nowhere around.

Jon watched as Odellius went through the equipment and found a massive leather breastplate that he loosened to the end of its strap, a bowl like iron helmet that still barely fit over the man’s giant head, and then, strangely, a very short and small wooden sword more suitable for a young boy than a man of his immense size and strength.

The two large men, one tall and the other extremely broad, made their way out to the center of the pitch and nodded heads. The same “Go!” came from the sideline and Odellius launched himself at the taller boy with a speed that belied his immense girth. Soon the two fought in close quarters and Jon found his lengthy wooden sword completely incapable of a powerful strike against the close in opponent. He tried to get away from the massive man, but Odellius stayed with him as his little sword ripped around the big man’s body with tremendous rapidity and slammed into Jon’s side with wind smashing blows. In a matter of only a few seconds Jon found himself backed towards a patch of dirt that was a slightly different shade than the rest of the pitch, and when his foot hit the area Odellius shifted suddenly and pushed Jon into the looser ground. Jon’s foot slid in loose dirt just as the big man’s belly hit him in the waist, a fast blow caught him high in the shoulder, his knees buckled, and he tumbled to the ground to a huge round of applause from the crowd.

Jon shook his head and looked up into the sun to see Odellius bending over him, his hand held out, “Another go?”

Jon nodded his head and let Odellius pull him to his feet.

The two stood face to face in the central yard again and Jon balanced on his toes and waited for the word from the starter. When it came he immediately dodged to the side but this time Odellius kept at a distance and slowly circled in a manner that forced Jon towards the loose ground. Aware of the danger, Jon lashed out with his superior reach to strike home blow after blow against the midsection of his foe but Odellius didn’t even seem to notice the swats that would have sent most men to the ground with a cry of agony.

“His skin must be thick as an elephant,” thought Jon to himself and tried to move in, only to have Odellius charge forward quickly and land several lightning fast shots that almost sent Jon over backwards. Jon used his huge stride to back away from the massive man whose forehead was covered with sweat and whose mouth hung open as he tried to suck in more oxygen. Jon realized this was the way to beat the behemoth, keep out of range, strike, and force a chase. Eventually the big man would go down and Jon smiled in triumph. As he carried out this strategy he became aware of the crowd’s shouts for the first time.

“Look at the tall one run,” shouted a boyish voice, followed immediately by another cutting comment, “Fight like a man, Julia,” it came and hurt him deeply. He took a moment to look at the spectators and spotted the sisters, Rhia and Shia and their look of acute disappointment hit him like one of Odellius’s strikes.

Jon looked at Odellius, who now breathed like a horse after a long run, and suddenly decided on a change of tactics. He charged forward, let his wooden sword drop to the ground, drove his shoulder into the midsection of the man, wrapped his long arms around him, and tried to throw him off balance. For the briefest of instants the fat mason seemed to slide off his feet and Jon had him all but tipped over, but then Odellius shifted his weight forward and Jon felt his knees buckle. The gray knight went to one knee and, with a tremendous effort that turned his biceps into massive balls, drove forward, and lifted Odellius to his toes and then a few inches into the air. At the last moment the big man used his little wooden sword to smack Jon on the side of the leg and Jon felt all this strength suddenly leave him. He collapsed to the ground as the big man stumbled and dodged to the side to avoid smashing him.

Jon rolled on his back and looked up at Odellius whose face was red with exertion and whose hand was out in an offer to help him up. It was only when he took the hand that he heard the eruption of screams and cheers that came from every member of the crowd. Jon walked off the pitch his arm around Odellius as everyone continued to applaud. They walked to a wooden bench and collapsed on it together, the thing creaking ominously beneath their weight. A young boy, not more than seven or eight, rushed over with a huge mug of frothy beer that he handed to Odellius and another boy, whom Jon vaguely recognized as Sorus Brewer, handed him a smaller mug filled with water. Odellius tilted back and drank with one huge pass, then pulled off his helmet to reveal wet and sweaty hair.

“Well fought, Jon Gray,” he said with a nod of his head. “I never thought I’d know what it feels like to fly but I was like a bird there for a moment!”

The people nearby broke into laughter, whispering back to those further away the words of the immense mason; laughter began to break out all over the little pitch. Jon stripped off his own iron helmet revealing his shock of sandy blonde hair and began to pull off his jerkin as a dozen young hands immediately reached in to help him.

Mikus Swift ran quickly back to the manor house his feet covering the distance quickly. He burst in the front door of the home, slammed it, and dashed to the large office where his father awaited his report. The man sat behind his large desk and drummed his fingers on the surface. “Well?” he said, his eyebrows arched.

“Odellius beat him, dad,” said Mikus, and Thorius smiled broadly as he eased back in his chair.

“So the young warrior from Tanelorn was humiliated?” he asked and Mikus hesitated for a moment, his face turned down towards the wooden slats of the floor. “Well?” repeated Thorius as his eyebrows came together. “The boy was thrashed, yes?”

Mikus nodded his head. “Twice straight.”

“And this Jon Gray did he take defeat poorly, whine and complain?” said Thorius and sat up in his chair and eyed his son closely. “Tell me what happened, boy!”

“It was a fair fight and … and …,” the story tailed off into silence.

“And,” said Thorius who stood and came around the table to hover over his teen son. “What happened?”

“Jon Gray tried to wrestle Odellius down,” said Mikus suddenly in a burst as his eyes shone brightly. “He had him for a second too, had him lifted up, but then Odellius knocked his leg out and he fell!”

“In the air?” said Thorius as he turned and sat on the edge of the desk. “Odellius?”

Mikus nodded, “He almost had him!”

“I suppose the crowd thought that it a noble effort,” said the man as his shoulders slumped.

“They went crazy, dad,” said Mikus. “Maybe you’re wrong about Jon Gray. He seems like a pretty nice guy.”

“I’m not wrong,” insisted Thorius and shook his head sadly. “You remember that. No matter what happens from here on out that boy will bring trouble to Elekargul. Any sort of alliance with Tanelorn will bring down dangerous foes upon us.”

“We’re knights of Elekargul,” said Mikus, standing tall, his eyes shining with passion. “It doesn’t matter what danger comes against us. We’ll fight it and defeat it!”

“You’re not a knight of anything, squire,” said Thorius. “But the chance to defeat the boy early is clearly finished. I must muse upon a new plan. Get out of here, Mikus. Go practice in the yard, your sword skills lag behind other boys your age.”

“Yes, father,” said Mikus and turned around and left the old knight by himself.

“If anyone is going to be a hero it’s not going to be some trumped up teenager with delusions of grandeur,” he said to himself, and then returned to the desk and looked at its empty surface for a long time.

Chapter 4

Strange draconic creatures apparently spun lthrough the air and battled one another in etched figures on the high domed ceiling. At the apex a massive green dragon with a half a dozen horns thrust from its forehead held court. On its back sat a human with strange, white, reptilian eyes, a long staff shaped like a crocodile in his right hand. Far below a decayed skeletal figure sat on a marble throne, its hands clenching the arms of the chair and its empty eye sockets peering endlessly out towards some unseen vision.

Two creatures appeared in a narrow corridor and argued with one another as the first, and taller, jabbed the second with a forefinger inches from his face.

“I tell you, Usharra,” said the first as his features became visible in the dim glow of the cavern. His head was horny and scaled while long layers of scales streamed down his arms and neckline. The scales were predominantly green but a sprinkle of red and purple gave them an iridescent look. “The staff has been found. How else do you explain the dreams?”

“The great Green One has always dreamed,” said the second creature. It was clearly the same species but its scales were predominantly blue in color although smattered of green giving him a rippled look much like waves breaking on a shore. “There is no reason to suppose these dreams are different than any of the others chronicled over the years.”

“These are more specific than others mentioned in the Chronicle of Dreams,” said the first creature. “You know I’m telling the truth, you’ve read the chronicle as often as I, and you know Chusarausea has never dreamed so specifically of the staff before, so specifically with directions for actions.”

“We know nothing of the sort, Melharras,” said Usharra with a wave of his long fingered hand. “There are many visions, by many people, over the centuries. There is also the untold amount of time that the Great Green One slept before he began to dream. Finally, there is the matter of great Sakatha’s condition,” this last with a glance to the skeletal figure on the throne. “Even if the staff were found, we would awaken not a leader of our people but the monstrosity of death there. It is uncertain how he will react to we children of the dragon all these centuries later.”

“How can you doubt his reaction?” said Melharras and stopped before the skeletal figure on the throne. “He led us in the great rebellion against the emperor thousands of years ago and when awakened will lead us once again.”

“Legends are notoriously inaccurate,” said Usharra with a dismissive wave of his hand. “There are no guarantees of the nature of that thing, nor its agenda if awakened.”

“How can you be so stubborn?” said Melharras. “This is the great awakening, this is the time generations of our people have long awaited. We must find the staff; we must take it to the Great Green One who will use it to awaken his former master. Then great Sakatha will ride the skies again and we will emerge from our skulking in the swamps and waterways of the world to take our rightful place at the head of a new empire, this one our own.”

“The legends also speak of the awakening of the emperor,” said Usharra. “If all you say is true and Sakatha rises and rides the toxic one, then do not the legends also suggest that the emperor will rise again? What makes you certain that this time great Sakatha,” again with a distasteful glance at the thing on the throne, “will be able to best his old foe?”

Melharras stood silently for a long moment his head bowed and the dim light twinkling off his scales. “It is not for me to say what great Sakatha will do upon rising. It is my duty as a child of the dragon to make it happen. The great green one dreams of the lands to the south of us, where the freeriders roam, he dreams of the Staff of Sakatha. We must send spies to find out what we can and then we must prepare a fleet to sail around the Dorian Peninsula and attack, if necessary, to take the staff.”

Usharra also stood quietly for a long moment and gazed at the strange creature on the throne, “I will not oppose you in Council,” he said. “We will send spies and we will prepare at least one ship for the journey but I do not like this turn of events. I do not trust the dreams of Chusarausea and in particular I do not trust the lich who promises to raise our former lord. The creature is dangerous and manipulates us. Mark my words, Melharras, this will not end well for our people. But, that being said, I will support you to the Council and if sent to Elekargul, as I suspect I am most suited for the job, I will perform my duties to the best of my ability.”

“You have chosen wisely, Usharra,” said Melharras eagerly fingering a long dragon shaped medallion on a chain around his neck. “I am not as concerned by Lord Whitebone as you. He is a foolish creature who hopes to use great Sakatha for his own ends but that, quite clearly, is not a problem. Once brought back to life the great one will not be subject to the orders of one such as Whitebone.”

“I hope you are right, Melharras,” said Usharra, shaking his head from side to side as he studied the motionless creature on the throne, “I hope you are right.”

Chapter 5

“Lord Whitebone,” said the shadowy creature who hovered both off the floor and on it at the same time. The skeletal creature he addressed sat at a stone desk covered with parchment as it scratched something out with a quill pen. The thing wore a heavy wool cloak of deep purple and a chain shirt over a leather jerkin, but its bone hands and skull were exposed in the room barely illuminated by a pair of reddish glow stones. It kept its head down as the shadowy thing waited patiently in the small room furnished with a shelf of books, a small table, and a dresser with four drawers. Long moments passed with the scratch of the quill the only sound. Finally, after some minutes the skeletal creature at the desk lifted his head, “What brings you to me, servant of the Abyss?”

“The mistress of the Abyss, she who has eternally ruled, wonders about your progress in the resurrection of the dragon child king,” said a low dark voice that emanated from the vaguely human shadowy form.

“I have contacted the children of the dragon that hold his bones, I have found the toxic dragon and ordered the manipulation of his dreams, I have sent minions to the lands of the freeriders where the Staff of Sakatha has reportedly surfaced, and I continue to gather information. Does your mistress ever leave her little den of pleasure and do something herself?” said Whitebone and turned the full focus of his gaze on the shadowy form. His eyes were not empty sockets but red embers that glowed and seemed to shoot forth a light that caused the dark form to waver. “Tenebrous, I grow weary of these disturbances. When Sakatha is raised,when I control him and his foolish followers, then I will alert the mistress of the Abyss. If you have nothing useful to report, stop wasting my valuable time.”

“Lord Whitebone,” said Tenebrous with a shadowy bow of sorts, “I was not aware if you knew of the Gray Lord’s involvement in the situation.”

“That meddlesome old fool is a trouble maker,” said Whitebone putting down his pen and crossing one leg over the other as a bony ankle flashed from beneath a pant leg. “But how could he be involved in this? Tanelorn and it cursed gray wall is too far away to influence matters in the south.”

“He sent his son to look into the situation. I believe he wants to collect the staff and put it in his vault away from anyone who might use it for their own ends. The same thing that he did with …,” here he looked around and his voice lowered. “The Black Sword and the Gray Horn,” said Tenebrous. “His commitment to neutrality is difficult to fully comprehend but it is most strong.”

“Valarius? The druid? That might well present a problem. He is a worthy foe. I must ponder this,” said the skeletal lord tapping his bony fingers on the stone desk.

“Not Valarius,” said Tenebrous. “The younger boy, Jon.”

Whitebone threw back his head and laughed, a strange sound that was more like the clack of hail stones on a rocky shore. “The hot headed one? Jon Gray? Really?”

Tenebrous’s form seemed to waver momentarily but he said nothing.

“You have something you want to say, dark servant?” said Whitebone.

“Yes, Lord Whitebone, about Jon Gray,” said Tenebrous.

“Go on nether spirit before I lose my patience and send you back to the Deathlands from whence you came,” said Whitebone.

“I think the boy is a greater danger than you might realize,” started Tenebrous but was interrupted by Whitebone who shook his head.

“I’m more afraid of his sister than of him,” said Whitebone. “He can easily be manipulated into doing whatever I choose. He is young and foolish. They do say he is capable enough with the sword but that is not a concern of mine. We will twist his reason so that he ends up helping us. This is good news indeed and a way to get back at that meddlesome lord of gray and his delusions of peace. Is there anything else, Tenebrous?”

“I suspect that the Gray Lord is being assisted by the Unbeliever,” said Tenebrous and chose his words with slow care.

Whitebone looked up sharply, “That is a matter more for your mistress than for you or me. I have no delusions about my own divinity and if Shinamar is able to disperse the power of the gods then so much the better for me.”

Tenebrous bowed as best a shadow might and offered one final piece of advice, “Shinamar, while not directly opposed to your interests is most powerful even in his current reduced condition. When he fled the vanished Das’von he took the magical tomes of Elucidor the Omnipotent, his former master. If he is aiding the Gray Lord and participated in the decision to send Jon Gray to Elakargul then this might be something of a concern for you.”

“It is not your business to tell me what is my concern and what is not my concern,” said Whitebone and stood, as the glare deep in his eye sockets glowed a deeper shade of red. “You have reported to me what you know. Now, get out of my site before I disperse you.”

Tenebrous’s shadowy form oozed out of the room and in a few moments Lord Whitebone sat by himself at his smallish stone desk. “Shinamar indeed … Jon Gray,” he said aloud and then threw back his head in laughter.

Chapter 6

Jon Gray sat in the small kitchen of the home of Sorus Brewer, sipped hot tea from a mug, and stared out the window at a small yellow bird that hopped along the ground and pecked at something with great vigor. “I wish I had something to do,” he said aloud just as a tall woman with long blonde hair emerged from another room and slipped on a light woolen jacket.

“I’d keep you quite busy again and again but I’ve got to get back to work or mother will have my hide,” she said with a smile and leaned down to give the boy a lingering kiss.

“You people are the most energetic bunch I’ve ever seen,” said Jon reaching around to grab the healthy young woman by the rear. She was taller than most girls, with a healthy tanned complexion that mixed well with her blonde hair.

“Weren’t you just complaining about being bored,” said the young woman and swatted away his hand. “Why don’t you go find Germanius, I’m sure he’ll have some scheme or another to get you killed.”

“That old kook,” said Jon with a laugh and tried to grab the girl around the waist but she proved too nimble, dodging away at the last moment and grabbing a biscuit from the pan on the stove as she turned to give him a wink and dashed out of the cottage.

“He’s not a kook,” shouted Titia her voice carried through the open window. “He’s just an old knight who wants to die in battle rather than in bed.”

There was silence for a moment and then her head popped into the window, “I’m serious, Jon. He’s a great hero from years ago. You could learn a lot from him. Go see him.”

“Fine, fine,” said Jon with a yawn and reached a hand out towards the biscuit pan on the stove but it was slightly out of his reach. He looked around the kitchen and spotted a broom. Using the chair opposite him he kicked it towards the broom which fell on the floor with a clatter. Then he grabbed another chair and used it to slowly scoot the broom towards him until it was within his reach. Then he used the broom as an extension of his arm, wacked at the pan on the stove, and sent it to the floor with a huge clatter. Finally, he dragged the pan, which fortuitously landed upright, towards him where he picked out one of the biscuits.

“What was that,” came Sorus Brewer’s voice from outside, and the boy opened the door and leaned inside.

“A pan fell,” said Jon and munched on the biscuit.

Sorus shook his head and stared at Jon for a long moment, “Why don’t you find something to do?” he finally asked.

“I’m waiting for the First Rider to come into town,” said Jon. “Odellius said that was the best thing and Sir Thorius won’t send out messengers looking for him because he thinks I’m a fraud. Half the town believes it now.”

“If you would get up off your butt and do something heroic people might think you were someone important,” said Sorus with steady eyes and an ever so slight shake of his head. “I mean, all you do all day is eat and drink and you don’t contribute anything. That’s not the way it works in Elekargul.”

“It’s the way it works in Tanelorn,” said Jon with a smile. “But, you’re right. My father always says I have a tendency towards sloth and my sister, well, you don’t want to know what she says about me.”

“So,” said Sorus and spread his arms. “Come with me to the Smooth Stride and you can learn about the brewing business.

“Yawn,” said Jon.

“Then go by the mason’s and learn about rock cutting. You seem to admire Odellius enough, I’m sure he’d be willing to give you something to do if only haul stones up from the quarry,” said Sorus. “Really, Jon, all you do is spend time with Titia and she was betrothed to Jatius before you showed up. That hasn’t helped your reputation in town either.”

Jon shrugged, “How is it my fault if she likes me better than him. Besides, I haven’t tried to pull anything with Shia so why are you complaining?”

Sorus suddenly blushed and shut his mouth tightly. “Fine, Jon. You just keep doing nothing and see if that gets you any closer to the First Rider. What would that father of yours, that you’re always talking about, say?”

Jon stopped the movement of his jaws for a moment and looked at Sorus, “Hey, it was a long trip here and not many men could have done it and survived,” he said. “I deserve a little break.”

“You’ve been saying that for near on a month now Jon,” said Sorus. “Maybe the First Rider isn’t here because he wants to see if you really are someone to talk to.”

Jon gave off a long sigh, looked at the pan of biscuits with a bit of a forlorn cast to his eyes, and then stood up with a great yawn. “Maybe I’ll go talk to that crazy old coot that’s trying to get himself killed. There might be something interesting there.”

“Sir Germanius isn’t an old coot,” said Sorus. “He’s a highly decorated knight of the realm but he’s gotten old and hasn’t managed to get himself killed in battle yet. It’s a stain on his reputation. The older he gets the more he wants to go out in a blaze of glory.”

“I’ll never really understand you people,” said Jon. “He should be laying back and enjoying retirement supported by all the people he’s helped over the years.”

“That’s not the way it is here in Elekargul Jon,” said Sorus. “But, you’ve been told that many times so I don’t see the point in repeating a lesson that won’t be learned. You should talk to him; see if you can find something to do with him. He’s a good old egg if you’d give him a chance.”

Jon stood up and grabbed a leather jerkin casually tossed over the back of a chair and noted a large yellow stain prominent on the front. He tried to brush this off, and managed to remove some of the crusty material, but what was left behind wasn’t any more appealing. Finally he gave up the attempt and threw the thing over his shoulder and left the house. He was pretty familiar with the town by now and walked directly to the tanner where Germanius lived and worked.

In the back yard four or five boys busied themselves with various tasks while the real operator of the shop, Titus Tanner, barked out orders and kept the young apprentices in line. He was a short man with some child of dragon blood in his veins as his neck had a few scaly spots as did his arms. “Hey Titus,” said Jon with a wave and several of the young boys looked at Jon their eyes alight with excitement. “Have you seen Germanius?”

Titus pointed with his head towards the grizzled old veteran whose gray hair was just visible from around the side of a shed. Jon ambled over in that direction and found the old man as he hobbled along with the help of a cane and tried to drag a deer hide to the back of the yard. “Let me grab that,” said Jon and took the thing easily in one hand and threw it over his shoulder. “Here, put your arm around me and I’ll get you back to your chair,” said Jon to Germanius.

“There’s going to be a fair?” said Germanius and looked at Jon suspiciously and then to the sky. “It’s a little too early in the year for the summer fair,” he said a bit too loudly and Jon smiled.

“Chair,” he said and pointed to the big rocking chair the old knight usually occupied. “I’ll take you to the chair,” he said in a loud voice that enunciated each word.

“No need to yell,” said Germanius with a smile and patted Jon on the back. He put his arm around the big gray knight and let himself be helped back to the chair which he sank into with a sigh. “Damn knee,” he said. “It’s never been the same since them Grelm orcs attacked in the year of Stanus Brokenhand’s second tour as First Rider.”

“You’ve told me that one, old fella,” said Jon with a smile. “Listen, I was thinking we might take a trip up the river to that old cairn I spotted when I was coming out of the hills. It had a symbol on it I’ve been thinking about.”

“Eh, what’s that?” said Germanius who leaned over and cupped his ear with his palm.

“Up in the Mountains of the Orc, a symbol,” said Jon loudly into the ear of the old warrior.

“I’ve been there many a time,” said Germanius sitting back in his rocker with a smile. “Me and old Mikus Brokenhand went up there. When was it, about forty years ago the year of … who was the First Rider that year? I remember that young Buffalorider fellow tried but it was a Coinkeeper. Magnus or his brother Quintus I think. But, no Quintus was a Wingedhorseman, one of the last before the Hoof Rot wiped out the stock. In any case we found a cave with one of those ruins from the Old Empire but it was still pretty much working because we accidently summoned something from the demon world. A fire creature as I recall, a real beauty she was, tried to kill us of course, but Mikus charmed the socks off the poor thing and had his way with her right then and there. He was always a bit of a ladies man but that’s messing with fire if you catch my drift. I remember once when we were boys; that was in the year Cincattus took First Rider for the sixth or seventh time. That boy Cincattus, now there was a real knight.”

Jon Gray sat quietly and let the old man tell his stories for a while and soaked up the mid-morning sun until one of the boys in the yard came over and gave him a cup of ale which he drank with large and practiced quaffs. Normally on a day like this several of the young apprentice tanners might come over to him and ask him about the excitement of his long journey to Elekargul or about life in Tanelorn but they didn’t seem to be as interested in the last week or so. “So, Germanius,” said Jon, leaning back in his chair, and stretching mightily as his long arms reached for the sky. What do you say, into the mountains for glory?”

“Glory?” said Germanius his ears suddenly perked up.

Jon nodded his head. “Glory it will be!”

“Is it dangerous?” said Germanius his body suddenly alert and his eyes gleamed.

“Very,” said Jon loudly and nodded his head in exaggerated movements.

“When do we go?” said the elderly warrior, flexing his knee and looking Jon steadily in the eye.

“Tomorrow morning?” said Jon as he pursed his lips.

The gray haired old warrior nodded his head. “I’ll be at the north gate at dawn.” Then he got up and limped slowly out of the yard while Jon watched with a shake of his head.

“That old coot will forget by morning,” he said aloud and smiled. “Still, I’ll see if Sorus wants to join me and I might get in good with young Mikus by inviting him.” With that the young son of the Gray Lord stood up and decided to head to the Smooth Stride first to talk with Sorus and then over to the manor house and talk with the son of the mayor.

An hour later, Sir Thorius sat in his usual place behind the wooden desk while his son eagerly explained the events a few moments before. “He wants me to come with him up to the Mountains of the Orc!” said the boy his eyes wide in excitement. “He’s taking old Germanius, so it must be dangerous. I’ll get a chance to do something heroic, gain my knighthood!”

“Germanius agreed to go,” said Thorius as his hand gently rubbed his chin. “He might just be grasping at straws for his last charge,” mused the mayor, “he doesn’t think particularly clearly these days and we haven’t had an invasion in five years.”

“It would give me a chance to spy on Jon too,” said Mikus putting his hands on his father’s desk as his eyes glowed with eagerness.

Thorius looked up at his son lazily and smiled, “Don’t try and con your father, Mikus. You want to go for the glory of it. But, you make a point. If the son of the Gray Lord does something cowardly you could tell everyone about it. Who else is going with you, anyone of importance, that damned Odellius?”

“I think Sorus Brewer is coming. Jon lives at his house but I don’t think any of the other knights are coming. Everyone is kind of bored with Jon now. He just sits around doing nothing,” said Mikus his shoulders drooping a little. “But maybe this will shake him out of it!”

“Possibly,” said Thorius with a sly smile as he sat back in his chair. “I’m beginning to think that boy is not nearly as brave as he wants people to believe. He is strong, there is no doubt of that, but he’s probably led a life of luxury, the son of a ruler, everything has gone his way. Now, he faces real adversity and he responds by lazing around drinking, eating, and whoring with what’s her name that little tramp.”

“Titia,” said Mikus.

“The one who’s married to that Openpalm boy?” said Thorius and sat up in his chair.

“No, no,” said Mikus. “Her younger sister. She’s not married but she was engaged.”

“Almost as good,” said Thorius and rubbed his hands together. “Almost as good. I was worried about this Jon Gray fellow for quite a bit but it turns out it was all for nothing. All right, Mikus, go with the boy up into the mountains and look for your glory. The worst that can happen is you don’t find anything. If you do, then outshine that gray knight, show him what a knight of Elekargul can do.”

“I’ll do my best, father,” said Mikus. “I’m going to be a knight!”

“Yes, yes,” said Thorius with a look to his young son as he nodded his head. “You’re only fifteen so that will be a feather in my cap. Have you thought about what name you’ll be taking?”

“Brokenhand of course,” said Mikus as his face broke into a huge smile. “Just like you!”

“That’s the boy,” said Thorius his own face a mirror of his son’s. “Now what are you going to take with you up to the mountains?”

“I’ll need some cold weather gear because it can get chilly up there at night. I’ll need my sword and armor of course and I’ve already got that polished and ready,” said Mikus with a smile that ran from ear to ear.

“What else?” asked his father as he nodded his head in approval.

Chapter 7

The next morning the four stood at the little northern gates of Black Dale with both their horses and a small crowd of well-wishers. Germanius had a beautiful gray mount that was long in the flanks and had the narrow head of a runner. He stood next to the massive Odellius who helped him onto the horse and gave him some final words of advice, “Now then Germanius, don’t get yourself killed in the first run, take down a few of them first will you?”

The old man smiled down at Odellius and said, “You’re not my son, but it’s kind of you to say so.”

Odellius looked up at the old knight and laughed aloud. He then turned to the others gathered nearby and shouted out, “He’s so deaf he wouldn’t hear a halfling whore faking an orgasm for her half-giant paramour!”

Several of the women gathered nearby shook their heads but laughed, and young Shia and Rhia, who stood near Jon Gray with wool blankets and boxes of food, giggled into their shoulders as they couldn’t cover their mouths.

“Be careful, Jon,” said Shia and stepped up to the boy. He looked down at her and smiled although the tall blonde woman nearby kept a close watch on the two. “Take these blankets to keep you warm in the mountains and I made you cookies,” she said and held the blanket and the box towards him.

Jon leaned down, kissed her on the forehead, took the offered items, and stowed them in the bags on his trotter. The horse was freshly scrubbed and looked spry with its tail high in the air.

Rhia’s lower lip trembled and her eyes showed just a tinge of wetness as she held up a small package for Jon, “I knitted you some socks,” she said, “but I’m not very good at knitting, I’m gonna be a knight like you when I grow up!”

“Girls can’t be knights,” said Shia and gave her little sister a small shove.

“Sure they can,” said Jon. “In Tanelorn anyone can be a knight if they want. They just have to be brave.”

“Not here,” said Shia.

“I can too if I get the purple face disease!” said Rhia and defiantly stuck her chin out towards her sister.

“You can die if you get that, stupid,” said Shia with a shake of her head.

“I don’t care,” said Rhia. “I’m going to be a knight just like Jon.” With that she turned to the tall young knight, grabbed him by one massive leg, and gave him a hug. “Will I ever see you again?”

Jon patted the young girl on the head and smiled, “Of course you will, I’m just going up in the mountains for a few days. I’ll be back soon enough and we’ll start you learning about swords, how does that sound?”

Rhia stepped back with a huge smile on her face, “You promise?”

“I promise,” said Jon, bent down, put his huge hands around her tiny little waist and lifted her high in the air.

“Wheeee,” said Rhia.

“Come on, Jon, the morning is passing,” said Sorus, his own little horse carefully brushed and spry, although not nearly the beast that Germanius rode nor even equal to the black charger of Mikus Swift.

Mikus stood next to his father and discussed something quietly, with an occasional look  at Jon and the others, but at this word from Sorus stuck his hand out to his father, “Well, father, wish me luck!”

“Good hunting Mikus,” said Thorius and took the proffered hand in a firm grip. “Make me proud.”

“I will,” said the boy with a smile, turned to his own horse, mounted it with ease, and then waved to the two dozen or so people gathered at the gate. “Tally ho!”

With that the four rode out of Black Dale to the cheers of the spectators although in the background many other people went about their business with barely even a look up at the commotion.

“How far is it to the mountains?” said Sorus as he rode next to Jon while Germanius went ahead with Mikus.

“Not more than two days of easy riding,” said the tall knight with a heartfelt smile for the young brewer. “Getting nervous already?”

“No, not at all,” said Sorus and sat up taller in the saddle although Jon still towered over him.

“It’s all right to be scared,” said Jon. “My father says that everyone is a coward before the battle but that once the fighting starts you find your inner strength.”

“Really,” said Sorus. “Are you afraid?”

“Well, I’m not all that sure there is anything to be afraid of up in the mountains. It was near the peak when I spotted the strange markings on the rock. They sort of looked like a crocodile and that’s something I’m here to talk to the First Rider about.”

“A crocodile?” said Mikus his faze screwed up in puzzlement, “In the mountains? That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“It might make a great deal of sense,” said Jon quietly and looked ahead to Mikus and Germanius who cantered a few hundred yards ahead. “The old man rides well.”

“What do you mean it might make sense,” said Sorus. “You came here for a reason, but then the mayor wouldn’t listen to you, and now you haven’t said anything to anyone in the rest of the time you’ve been here. Why did you come to Elakargul?”

Jon looked at Sorus for a moment and then nodded his square jawed head, “I trust you, Sorus, but I don’t feel the same way about Mikus.”

“I understand,” said the young brewer, “But Mikus is ok, his dad is a bit of an ass, but Mikus just wants to be a knight. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

“If you say so,” said Jon. “I also don’t really trust Germanius,” he went on.

“What?” said Sorus. “He’s a fine knight and as trustworthy as they come. His generation, they take being a knight very seriously although there aren’t many left his age. Most die in battle, that’s the way of our people.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust his integrity but he’s old. If I say something to him about my real mission and he lets it slip to Thorius or one of his allies that might hurt my chances of doing what needs to be done,” said Jon his face somber as his eyes looked ahead to the old man.

“What is it that needs to get done?” said Sorus and pulled his little horse next to Jon’s. “You can tell me, I’m on your side.”

Jon nodded his head, “I know, I know. My father is a stubborn man and he thinks things must be a certain way.”

“He built an entire city, right?” said Sorus.

“He founded it at least. He traveled the world slaying monsters, saving maidens, doing all sorts of heroic deeds and then he just decided that it … it was futile.”

“How can doing heroic things be futile?” said Sorus. “That is what any man wants to do, be a hero, save the girl, get married, have sex!”

“I hear you,” said Jon as a smile crept onto his face. “That Shia is quite a little beauty.”

“Yeah,” said Sorus. “But you saw who she baked cookies for, you. She’ll only marry a knight and not some stupid brewer boy.”

“But, you can be knight if you’re brave enough. Germanius can knight you,” said Jon.

“I know, but sometimes I think I’m not cut out for all of this. I like brewing and I get scared. Maybe I’m just not meant to be a hero,” said Sorus, hanging his head, and patting his horse on the neck.

“Bird droppings,” said Jon. “You don’t know if you’re going to be a hero until you face real danger for the first time. Some people who think they are brave run away and the ones who are scared stand up and fight. My first time in battle I was a bit younger than you, we were fighting remnants of the Five Nations after the war, cleaning up pockets of resistance. My father took me along and I was so scared I peed myself,” went on Jon and noticed the look of astonishment on Sorus’s face. “Yep, it’s true. But, when the fight started, I pulled out my sword and did my duty. Once you’ve been heroic it’s easier the next time. It’s like that with everything. If you’re a coward the first time it’s hard to break out of the habit.”

“So, this first time will be my test?” said Sorus looking at Jon with wide eyes but a firm jaw.

“Well, you can always redeem yourself even after failing,” said Jon. “You have those Brokenshield fellows here in Elekargul, right? They get stripped of their knighthood for cowardice but they can get it back.”

“Mostly they give up their knighthood because they can’t perform the duties. It’s usually to raise children when their wives die in childbirth but sometimes it happens because of cowardice, you’re right Jon,” said Sorus, looking up into the morning sky as the ground slowly went past. “But, what about your father giving up being a hero, does that have anything to do with you being here?”

Jon smiled, “My father started lecturing me when I was still in the crib, so I’ve heard the stories many times. My father, he set out to save the world, to be a hero, to destroy evil, and bring good to everyone. He did that for a few years after he left home when he wasn’t much older than you. He traveled with some other fellows, a paladin of the sun god, a nature wizard, a rogue, sort of your typical adventuring party.”

“Then what happened,” said Sorus as he leaned forward in his saddle, eyes darting back and forth between Jon and the road ahead.

“They killed a blue dragon that was terrorizing a village,” said Jon, “and when they went back to its lair there was a baby blue in the nest.”

“Did they kill it?” said Sorus.

“Well, my father’s friend, the paladin, wanted to kill it. He said it was evil by its very nature but my father thought they could raise it, or turn it over to someone to be raised, and it could be a force of good. There was a big argument,” said Jon. “At least that’s the story I’ve been told.”

“What happened?” said Sorus.

“They agreed to turn it over to someone they knew, a woman who was good with animals. That night the paladin slew the thing in its cage, slaughtered it,” said Jon. “The next morning when my father found out he got into a fight with the paladin but lost and was almost killed. My father’s friend, the druid, Tarragonius, intervened and saved him. After that my father and Tarragonius left the others and set out on their own.”

“Blue dragons are evil, at least that’s the way it is down here in the south,” said Sorus. “I kind of see where the paladin was coming from; I don’t mean to say anything bad about your father,” went on the young brewer one hand spread out as he shrugged his shoulders.

“My father thought about that, and he and Tarragonius talked about it all the time. My father finally decided that maybe there wasn’t such a thing as good and evil.”

“Sure there is,” said Sorus. “Look around, there are lots of evil things in the world.”

“Do they think they’re evil?” said Jon and turned to the boy with a suddenly hard edge to his gray eyes. “Don’t we all do what is in our own best interest?”

“Well, yeah,” said Sorus. “But sometimes I do things that hurt other people and I know that’s wrong.”

“Why is it wrong if it’s in your best interest,” said Jon. “At least that’s what my father would say. I don’t really believe everything he says but sometimes it makes a lot of sense. Let’s say you were starving, would killing and eating your horse be a good thing?”

“Yes,” said Sorus. “Otherwise you’d starve.”

“But it’s not good for the horse,” said Jon.

“The horse is just an animal,” replied Sorus.

“That’s true, but every day you have make decisions about what is good for you and a lot of times that isn’t so good for someone else. For example, Thorius is doing what he thinks is best for him and for the town of Black Dale by trying to get rid of me. I’m doing what I think is best by staying and trying to complete my mission, which one is good and which evil?”

Sorus shrugged, “Well, I guess it depends on who I’m talking to.”

“Right,” said Jon. “That’s my father’s point. Anyway, my father decided to take himself out of the equation.”

“How’s that?” asked Sorus.

“He decided to stop trying to influence other people and remain neutral in all things,” said Jon.

“That’s impossible, how can he be the king of Tanelorn if he doesn’t make decisions?” said Sorus.

“He’s not the king, he’s the Gray Lord,” said Jon. “In Tanelorn people don’t tell other people what to do. People decide what is best for themselves and do it. At first it was just my father, Tarragonius, and a few others but over the years the city grew as other men and women who were tired of fighting, of deciding right and wrong, joined him. Now it’s a city full of people like that.”

Sorus rode along in silence for a long time, “It doesn’t seem like a very efficient system, I mean how does anyone get a well dug if they can’t tell anyone to dig it?”

“They dig it themselves and if someone else thinks it is a good idea they join them,” said Jon. “But, you’re right, it’s not very efficient and sometimes things don’t go so well. Do you know what I’m supposed to say when I meet someone who might be tired of deciding good and evil and would be a good candidate to come to Tanelorn and live?”

“No,” said Sorus and shook his head.

“Tanelorn has few luxuries to offer other than peace of mind. Some have found that allure enough and perhaps you might be among those so inclined,” said Jon looking intently at the young brewer with gray eyes and a firm jaw.

Sorus sat in the saddle for a long time and thought as the two young men rode side by side in silence for several hours until the young brewer broke the quiet, “I think your father might be on to something,” he said and Jon nodded silently.

“What about this mission of yours?” said Sorus. “We’ll be stopping for lunch soon and I’d like to hear about it before we catch up to those two.”

“My father thinks that relics of the Old Empire are influencing people unduly,” said Jon.

“The Old Empire?” said Sorus. “That’s big stuff! There are all sorts of old stone circles that are still magical from those days, people say that Doria was built in those times.”

“My father wants to collect these old relics, store them away so that they can’t influence people, so that people can make up their own minds about things, so their judgment isn’t clouded,” said Jon.

“Why doesn’t he just destroy them then?” asked Sorus.

“Dad would say that he doesn’t have the right to make that decision. I think he’s a little crazy sometimes about neutrality. You have to make a stand somewhere but my father doesn’t think so. So he just collects these things and hides them away.”

“What is it you’re here to collect?” said Sorus, the truth of Jon’s mission beginning to become clear to him.

Jon smiled, “You’re on the right track,” he said. “In the ancient empire there was a great child of the dragons, a king, or something like that and he had a powerful relic called the Staff of Sakatha.”

Sorus shook his head and partially closed his eyes, “Hmm, I’ve never heard of it and there aren’t many reptile men around although there are some way up north in Darag’dal.”

“My father seems to think the staff has reemerged,” said Jon. “I don’t know how my father gets his information, but he is almost always right about these things. He thinks it’s down here near Elekargul somewhere, he wants me to collect it and take it back to Tanelorn.”

“You should just tell Thorius that,” said Sorus. “I’m sure if he knew he wouldn’t be so dismissive towards you.”

“I’m to talk to the First Rider about it and the First Rider only,” said Jon. “My father was very clear on the subject. Those old relics, when you hold them in your hand, when you taste the power they carry, they can corrupt you,” said Jon and his eyes grew dark and cold and his hand clenched at his side. “It isn’t easy to fight off that sort of temptation, that sort of power.”

“Have you held them in your hand?” asked Sorus his voice almost a whisper.

“The Gray Horn and … the Black Sword, Banisher,” said Jon as his body suddenly trembled and a haunted look came to his eyes.

“What are they?” said Sorus, his voice became quieter if anything.

Jon suddenly shook his head and laughed out loud, “Enough of this talk, Sorus the future knight of Elekargul,” he said and clapped the boy on the back. “I hope you brought a small keg of your finest for the journey and my belly rumbles like I haven’t eaten in week.” He spurred his horse which leapt off in a gallop and he called out to the riders far ahead, “Sir Germanius, Mikus, my belly tells me we must stop for lunch!”

Sorus spurred his own steed and quickly caught up with the others as they settled on a spot where a small creek flowed into the Frosty Run River. Nearby bunches of purple flowers interspersed with green grass dotted the landscape and Jon spotted several small gray rabbits that nibbled on the bounty.

“What sort of flower is that?” he asked no one in particular, as he and Sorus unpacked two of the horses, while Germanius filled a kettle with stream water and Mikus gathered wood for a fire.

“Those,” said Sorus as he pointed to the purple bunches. “They call them Aubrieta I think, my mom likes them. They grow around here a lot, near creeks. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said Jon. “My mother is always telling me that it’s important to know the animals and plants of a region.”

“You have a mother?” said Sorus and laughed aloud. “You talk about that father of yours so much I figured maybe you dropped from the sky or something.”

“No,” laughed Jon. “I guess I don’t talk about her as much, but I think about her a lot.”

“I feel sorry for the poor woman,” said Mikus who returned with an armload of wood and caught the tail end of the conversation. “Having to give birth to a boy with that giant of a head must have been a traumatic experience.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Mikus,” said Jon as he got up to help dig out a small fire pit. “I’m a twin.”

“There’s two of you?” asked Mikus and shook his head in disbelief, “I can’t believe a woman could survive such a birthing.”

“My sister is not as big as me,” said Jon, “she only comes up to here,” he said pointing to his lips.

Sorus, knew his own height of six feet and realized the girl was half a foot taller yet. “Yeah, a real shorty I bet.”

Jon laughed, “She always complains there aren’t enough tall boys in the world but I don’t think she means it. She loves to fight more than me and is already a gray captain.”

“Aren’t you a captain in your army,” said Mikus as he turned to face Jon.

Jon shook his head sadly, “My commander says I have to learn discipline before I can be a captain. I think he’s still mad about me and his daughter.”

“I don’t even want to know,” said Mikus as they put the kindling in a pile and the young squire began to scape his knife over a metal plate, which instantly produced a shower of sparks that caught light to the kindling, and soon a roaring little blaze was going.

“Those rabbits good eating?” said Jon with a motion of his head to the bunnies that romped all over the field.

“Three Maria’s,” said Sorus with a grin. “I don’t know why they call them that but they’re fine eating. They’re all over the foothills like this,” he went on. “There’s another kind too called Mountain Rabbits that are a little bigger with big white tails. We’ll bag a few this afternoon after lunch if you want to try them. Do you have rabbits up north in Tanelorn?”

Jon smiled, “I don’t think there’s anywhere with rabbits. Speaking of rabbits do you have gnolls down here,” he continued.

“I’ve heard of them,” said Mikus. “Great hairy beasts, ten feet tall and they like to laugh in this crazy way, right?”

“They are big and they are hairy but I don’t know about ten feet tall,” said Jon, “at least not where I’m from anyway. We have an expression up in Tanelorn that the bunnies made me think about. Rabbits breed like gnolls!”

“There must be a lot of them then,” said Mikus with a smile. “How come they don’t just overrun Tanelorn?”

“I fought a dog-man once,” Germanius rumbled up from the depths as he stirred some vegetables into the water not yet aboil. “Not much bigger than Jon there,” he went on, “but a wild creature he was, he fought with an obsidian blade, the stone swords are sharp but brittle. He smashed it against my shield and near broke my arm but I managed to best him in the end.”

“Where was this?” asked Jon.

“Eh?” said Germanius as he went back to the vegetables.

“Where … did … this happen?” Jon said in a loud voice.

“No need to yell,” said Germanius and then gave Jon a wink. “The old man is only mostly deaf, not completely.”

At this all three of the youngsters laughed aloud and Sorus urged the old knight to continue, “Come on Sir Germanius, tell us the story.”

“You youngsters always humoring an old knight,” said Germanius with a smile as he attended to their lunch with great diligence. “It was well west of here, in the territories of the orcs, Grelm it is now, but before that it was something else, I can’t remember. I couldn’t have been much more than twenty or so years old. There were reports that the old masters were stirring and me and some of the fellows went into the orc lands looking for any them.”

“Old masters?” whispered Jon to Sorus who replied with a nod of his head.

“I’ll tell you about them another time. Brutus Brokenhand was their slave and he escaped and founded Elekargul,” said Sorus and turned his attention back to the old man who himself had paused in his story for a brief moment to fish out a small onion and pop it into his mouth.

“I think it was Torrentius Oldhill watched the camp that night when we was attacked,” said Germanius. “He was mostly hobgoblin old Torrentius, he leapt in front of them ambushers and was near chopped in half by the dog-man but held them off long enough for the rest of us to get up. It was quite a scramble I can tell you that. At one point one of them, a little fellow, goblin or some such, jabbed a dagger right up my arse. Now boys,” said the old warrior, “let me tell you straight, don’t ever let a goblin feller jab his dagger up there unless you’re fond of screaming like a little girl every time you take a crap for the next month.”

The three young men burst into laughter, Jon and Sorus clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces, and Mikus rolled around on the ground so much so that he put the tail edge of his leather jerkin into the fire and had to throw it off and stomp it out, which led to more merriment.

After everyone finally settled down Germanius continued his story, “The way that dog fella laughed was enough to chill the bones, sorta half a laugh, half a scream, and a little something else as well. I stuck my sword in his eye and that was that, but we had to bury poor Torrentius in the morning,” finished Germanius and this sobered the boys a great deal.

“He died a hero though,” said Mikus. “I mean he saved the rest of you from getting ambushed in camp.”

Germanius nodded his head in agreement, “Every day I’m alive is because of that,” he said. “I had forgotten about that until you mentioned gnolls,” he went on. “There’s quite a number of good fellas in their grave instead of me. Sometimes I wonder if the Black Horse wanted it that way or whether it’s just the fate of things.”

“Tell me about the Black Horse. I don’t know much about your religious beliefs,” said Jon with a look to Sorus.

Sorus thought for a moment as Germanius poured the hot water off through a strainer and began to dish out piles of vegetables; carrots, onions, cauliflowers that set off a cloud of steam, onto tin plates and passed them to the boys. “The Black Horse is sort of a god to us here in Elekargul but also sort of just a thing to say. Nobody really prays to it and it doesn’t really give bounties to priests or anything,” said Sorus between bites. “We just sort of talk about him and go about our business.”

“It’s like that in Tanelorn, everyone who settles there comes from somewhere else so they all worship different gods, there isn’t anything really common to the gray city,” said Jon and gobbled down his own food in great bites. “My father doesn’t worship any gods at all but some of the gray druids are very religious.”

“Doesn’t worship any gods at all?” said Mikus.

Jon shook his head, “Nope. He says that it’s up to a man to make his own way in life and that anyone who prays for guidance is just fooling themselves.”

“That’s pretty raw,” said Mikus. “I know a lot of men who’d have something to say about that.”

Jon shrugged his shoulders, “That’s my dad. He says what he wants, or at least he used to.”

“Getting soft as he gets older?” said Sorus with a look at his friend, concern in his eyes.

Jon paused the shovel like motion and stared at Sorus for a long minute before he replied, “I don’t know. Right before I left to come here he told me that a nation … what was it … a nation without heroes is a nation run by thugs.”

“What does that mean?” said Mikus and looked at Jon who shrugged his shoulders but Germanius nodded his head and put his hand to his sword hilt.

“It means that ambitious, strong men of action drive a nation, and if those men aren’t heroes then the thugs take over. The only ones who can stop self-interested bastards are the heroes,” he said and stomped his foot. “By the balls of the Black Horse I’d like to meet your father Jon, but I’m too old, too weak. You’ll just have to act like him and I’ll settle for that.”

Jon looked down at his plate for a few seconds, “Big boots you’re asking me to fill Germanius, I’m not sure I’m up to the task.”

“Paint my left leg black and call me a zebra boy,” said Germanius and walked over to Jon and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “It’s the thugs that are sure they’re right, they don’t doubt their capabilities. It’s the heroes that worry if they can do it. That’s what stops heroes and lets the scoundrels into the barn. Get off your arse and start acting like a man.”

“You sound like my father,” said Jon and put his own hand on the old warrior’s shoulder.

“I’m getting all weepy here,” said Sorus and put his arms around Mikus as the two young boys began to sob into one another’s shoulders.

“Okay, okay,” said Jon his arm still around Germanius. “I get it. Let me tell you all about what might be up in those hills. You too, Mikus. You’re father doesn’t much like me.” Mikus began to say something but Jon raised his hand and shook his head, “No, no, Mikus. He doesn’t much like me but that doesn’t mean I hold you responsible for the way he thinks. Actually, a lot of people don’t much like me. I’m a spoiled rich kid whose had everything in life go his way and sometimes I get a little full of myself,” he went on.

“A litte?” said Sorus.

“I’m baring my soul here,” said Jon, “and this is what I get?”

“You’ve got a thin hide for someone with such a thick head,” replied Sorus with a smile and Jon laughed.

“Fair enough, Sorus,” said the massive young knight of gray. “Mikus, you’re part of the team and that means you get to hear everything. You can make your own judgment about me. Does that sound about right?”

Mikus nodded his head and remained silent.

“I’m here looking for something called the Staff of Sakatha,” said Jon, “and I when I came over the Mountains of the Orc I spotted a strange mark on a rock up near the peak. It reminded me something my father said about the staff. I’m not getting anything done in town waiting for the First Rider so I thought now was the time to act.”

“That’s the boy,” said Germanius with a nod of his grizzled head. “You can’t wait for somebody else to be a hero.”

“I don’t know about all that old man,” said Jon with a smile on his face, “but I aim to figure out what that thing up on the mountain was and if the First Rider cares to join us then maybe we’ll let him have some of the glory!”

“Let him suck the blister juice off our feet,” said Germanius. “Ours is the glory!”

“Wahoo!” shouted Mikus.

“Who’s going to clean the plates,” said Jon his eyebrows raised.

“Being a hero is sometimes pretty unheroic,” said Sorus, grabbing the plate from Jon’s hand, and walking towards the creek.

“I’ll help,” said Mikus, with a laugh as Jon poured cool water on the fire and began to stomp at it while Germanius limped slowly over to the horses and began to pack up some of the equipment.

They reached the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc that night, but the main trail lay further to the north, so they stopped and camped near a small creek that meandered out of the hills and towards the Frosty Run behind them. Even though it was only their first night together they already seemed to have established a routine as Mikus gathered firewood, Jon and Sorus took care to set up camp, and old man Germanius brushed down the horses and prepared them for the long night.

“Should we let the horses run,” said Jon over his shoulder to Germanius who hobbled the horses with a length of rope.

“Not this close to the mountains,” said the old soldier, suddenly able to hear again apparently thanks to the daylong activity. “Strange critters roam these hills, you’re lucky you didn’t face off agin one on your way over the mountain.”

“I saw a big bear or something one night,” said Jon and walked over to the old man and helped hobble the last horse. “It growled pretty loud but I guess it wasn’t much interested in a tussle.”

“Bears won’t bother ya much unless you’re travelin’ with a lass,” said Germanius. “Them bears can sniff a woman’s blooding from a mile or more away. Then they come’s and kill’s you and leaves the girl as she was. I seen it happen.”

“Really?” said Jon and patted the old man on the back. “I’ll remember to tell my sister that when I get back to Tanelorn. If I ever get back.”

“You might get back one day,” said the old warrior, and then suddenly a pained expression came across his face as he bent over his hands on his legs and let out a grunt.

“What’s the matter?” said Jon and put his big hand on the grizzled veterans back.

“The leg shoots,” said the old man through gritted teeth. “Like a dagger in the back of the leg dragging up and down. Hurts like the rotted tooth needing to get pulled. I gots the Zosters about twenty years ago and now I get these shooters now and again. They get worse the older I get. It’s time to die, past time to die,” said Germanius, standing up, and looking at Jon, his teeth still clenched. “Find me something good to die for boy. That’s what I ask of you.”

Jon put his arm under the ribs of the old warrior and helped him to the small fire that Mikus got started, “You sit down here old man,” he said and helped Germanius to the ground. “I’ll find you something good, I promise you that. Something that folks will be talking about for years to come. What do you say to that?”

Germanius nodded his head and then grimaced in pain again as he sat down with a thump, “I’ll be fine come morning.”

“You just stay there and take it easy old man, me and the kids will cook up some supper, here, take a sip of this,” said Jon and pulled a small leather flask out from his belt. “I was saving it for a victory drink but we might be dead by morning so why not take a jolt now?”

“I like your thinking on that,” said Germanius, took the flask, pulled out the leather stop, tilted it back, and poured a generous amount down his throat. “Ahhh, by the fifth leg of the Black Horse that hits the spot!”

Jon laughed and turned his attention to the camp where he helped Mikus and Sorus finish the fire, get out the bed rolls, put a roast chicken they brought from Black Dale on the fire, and start the water to boil.

Two hours later they were ready for bed as the fire burned brightly in the night and only a few clouds dotted the sky where a half moon shone brightly. “It’s hard to get used to that sky,” said Jon as he looked up. “It changed when I was sailing from Sea’cra to Tarlton.”

“The stars are different in the north?” asked Mikus with a puzzled expression on his face as the two lay on their rolls and gazed skyward. Sorus sat nearby, his back against a tree, and watched the same sky but still wore his chain shirt with his sword out and next to him.

“The world is round,” said Jon. “So when you get past the halfway point the stars change. They’re all different down here, none of the same constellations at all.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Mikus. “I mean, I knew the world was round, everyone knows that cause you can see a ship’s mast come up over the horizon, I just never really thought about how the stars would be different when you look up.” Suddenly the boy stopped and thought for a long time. “Hey, if the world is round, on the other side, in Tanelorn, up is our down.”

“That’s right, Mikus,” said Jon with a smile. “I bet you’re wondering why we don’t all just fall off?”

Mikus laughed and Sorus gave a chuckle from his seated position nearby. “What are you laughing at, Sorus,” said Mikus.

“Not at you,” said Sorus. “I was just thinking about that too. What is up and what is down? I mean, if people up in the north half look up they see the stars above them, but we in the south half look up and see the stars above us, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Mikus, “but that doesn’t make much sense.”

Just then a heavy snore from Germanius came from under his blanket and was followed by a staccato burst of several more.

“Germanius might have the right idea on this one,” said Jon. “Tarragonius, the gray druid, tried to explain all that to me once but I got a little lost. I’m not sure anyone can figure it out.”

“Yeah,” said Mikus. “I guess there’s not much to be gained in thinking about things you’ll never understand, but, jeez, it sure doesn’t make much sense.”

“Get some sleep,” said Jon and rolled over onto his side. “Wake me up in a couple of hours, Sorus, and I’ll spell you. Let the old man sleep, he’ll be sore in the morning and I’d be surprised if you and Mikus weren’t a little worse for wear yourselves.”

Sorus gave Jon a short nod with his head and looked at the sky for a moment before he gazed out toward where the mountains loomed above them.

The mountains appeared huge to Jon, whose own lands of Tanelorn were plains with long low hills covered by grass. There were massive mountains further north of Tanelorn, in the frozen lands, but Jon never went that far in his travels. When he first came across these mountains he grew to know the cold nights in the heights and he slept comfortably under the heavy woolen blanket given to him by Rhia and Shia.

The night went by uneventfully. The four packed up their camp the next morning, headed along the mountains, and looked for the trail that led up the slopes. It took them all of the morning and part of the afternoon to find the trail and it was the sharp eyes of Mikus who spotted it. “That looks like a bit of trail,” said the boy as he pointed to a small bush that sat atop a rock, “behind that rock.”

“I think you’re right,” said Jon and nodded his head and walked over to the little gap in the rocky foothills. “It looks right and the time we took to get here is about what I remember. What do you say, Germanius, camp here for the night and start up in the morning, or cover some distance with the light we have left?”

“My back hurts like an old bear that fell out of a tree trying to get honey,” said the old warrior. “Damn that Odellius for giving me such a fine horse, I’da been better off on a donkey, they ride smoother and not so hard to climb in the morning.”

Mikus looked at Jon, “Did he answer your question?”

Jon laughed and shook his head, “I’m not really certain but I think he means we should get to where we’re going as quick as possible so he can get himself killed.”

“That’s about right,” said Sorus. “If we’re lucky that’ll be me and you someday, Mikus.”

Mikus nodded his head and dismounted to lead his fine horse up the path. “I’ll scout ahead and if I find something dangerous I’ll tell Germanius!”

The stone projectile caught him directly on the temple and he was dead before he hit the ground. His horse reared, wheeled around, and headed back towards town at a gallop.

“Where did it come from,” shouted Sorus as he gazed wide eyed in all directions.

Jon dove for cover behind a large rock just to his right when he heard Sorus’s words, “Get off your horse, get to cover!” he shouted and then looked around to find that Germanius not only already lay under cover, but had also pulled his horse along with him to provide protection from a second side.

Two more rocks sailed past Sorus’s head just as the boy leaned down to dismount and a third hit his steed in the foreleg which sent the beast skyward with a kick. The young brewer managed to dismount with a thump, fell to one knee, then pulled his horse down, and quickly hustled to the cover of the rocks near Jon. “Where is it coming from?” he said and looked around until his gaze came across Mikus dead on the ground his eyes open and sightless. “Is he dead?”

Jon nodded his head, “Killed outright, lucky shot. Bastards. We’ll kill them, don’t you worry,” he said as a trio of rocks skittered off the boulders just above their heads. “There,” said Jon and pointed off to his right. “Three of them at least, maybe five, slinging from just up there. If they’re smart they’ll have a couple of swordsmen protecting their flank if we try to get around them. Germanius, what do you see?”

The old knight was a good ten yards from them, behind a group of three large angular rocks and had his horse positioned to his left to cover any enfilading fire. “They’ll try to come around us to your side,” shouted the old warrior and pointed behind Jon. “I figure three slingers, maybe four. Either they’ve got no swordsman or they’re cowards; they should have attacked us right when the slingers fired. That’d been their best chance.”

“Sorus,” said Jon. “Grab the horse, run about ten yards out, when the slingers fire, dart back and take cover in those rocks between Germanius and me,” said the gray knight as he pointed to a clump of low rocks between the two. “I’m going to go to where the slingers are headed and beat them there.”

“Got it,” said the brewer, immediately following Jon’s commands and heading back into the open. “After five long strides two stones ricocheted on the ground, neither one coming with five feet of him, and he quickly turned and retraced his steps as another stone hit his horse in the flank, which caused the beast to jump, but he was able to control it and lead it to cover. When he looked back to where Jon was a moment ago he saw the trotter but no sign of the warrior. He then looked towards Germanius who had his long steel sword drawn and was in a low crouch.

“We charge the bushwhackers as soon as Jon hits them, we’ll catch ‘em as they run. Gut ‘em straight through and don’t think about it,” said Germanius in a low shout and with a clenched fist.

Sorus nodded and a moment later a huge bellow came from Jon followed by a terrible shriek. Germanius was up, he ran to the boulders, tried to leap the first one but his foot caught on vines from bush and sent the old man face first into the ground where he jammed his hand as he tried to catch himself. Sorus was up right after him and paused to help the old warrior, but Germanius spat out, “At ‘em you fool, I’ll get there!” so the brewer continued with a bound over the fallen knight.

Just beyond Germanius the trail led back and around to where Jon pointed earlier and suddenly two young goblin boys, not more than teens, each with a sling in their hands appeared around the corner looking over their shoulder and running at a full gait. Sorus jumped down from a rock into their path, and the first one ran himself onto the boys slim blade which pierced deeply into his belly. The creature opened his eyes wide in shock, looked up at Sorus, spat out something in a strange language before his gaze lost its focus, and fell to the ground.

The second goblin stood and stared for a moment as his mouth tried to say something but no words came out. It then pulled out a small dirk from its belt. Sorus tried to pull his sword out of the first goblin’s belly, but the creature had fallen sidewise, and the blade was twisted and wouldn’t easily slide out.

At that moment Jon came around the corner with a mammoth stone sword, somehow both thick and sharp, in his hand. The gray knight’s eyes were calm, his face bore a cool almost relaxed smile, and his movements seemed to be slowed somehow to the eyes of Sorus. Jon was a good fifteen feet away, yet he covered the distance in three apparently leisurely strides, and was on the goblin before Sorus could even open his mouth. The gray sword licked out and the goblin was in two pieces, cut in half at the waist.

“Come on,” said Jon his voice quiet and calm. “There might be more up in the hills,” and then leapt off.

Sorus tried to follow but, while the gray knight appeared to move long, sluggish strides, he leapt from rock to rock with a speed that belied belief and he was quickly up and out of Sorus’s sight.

“Never seen anyone move like that,” said Germanius’ voice from his right, and Sorus jumped from fright and raised his slim blade which had somehow loosed itself from the goblin boy.

“By The Mare, don’t startle me so,” said Sorus as he looked up to where Jon had vanished up into the hills.

“He moves like a ram, or a cougar, and that sword, looks heavy enough to cut iron but he wields it like a toy. If we had a brace of soldiers like that, by the Black Horse, the orcs would tremble!”

By the time the two arrived fifty yards up the hill Jon stood in a small clearing where a campfire and gear indicated the creatures had spent the night. One of them was dead, his head crushed so badly that it took Sorus a moment to realize that it was a goblin, and a second was on his knees with his hands held up in surrender.

“One of them put up a fight,” said Jon as he pointed with the mammoth blade, “but his friend thought better of it.”

“They killed Mikus,” said Sorus.

“They’re just boys, goblin boys, younger than you,” said Germanius with a shake of his head as walked over to the survivor and talked to him in the guttural language of the creatures.

“You speak that?” said Jon to Sorus and the brewer shook his head in the negative. “No, not much. Germanius said something about blood but I’m not following it much. The goblin wants mercy, that’s ‘hugara’ that he keeps saying. Germanius is saying something about killing our friend and wanting payment but I’m not sure.”

At that point the old warrior turned to Jon and smiled. “You were right, there’s something big going on up in the hills. Those boys said there is a dragon up there and a child of the dragons gave orders to the goblins and orcs to come down from the mountain and attack the freeriders,” he said as his smile broadened. “A dragon, can you imagine that. What better way to die than fighting a dragon.”

“Better than getting killed by a goblin with a sling,” said Sorus. “Poor Mikus. I never liked him much and his father is an ass but that’s no way for a squire of Elakargul to die. Should we kill him?” said Sorus and pointed with his blade to the goblin. “If we don’t, won’t he just head back up to his tribe and tell them what happened?”

“I don’t like killing in cold blood,” said Jon, his huge blade sheathed. “Let him go. We’ll pile up a cairn for Mikus and follow the little rotter up into the hills. He’ll lead us right to them.”

“Careful, Jon,” said Germanius in a whisper, his face away from the goblin boy, “he might speak Elakargul better than he lets on although I doubt it. You’re right though, give the bastard a head start and follow his trail. We’ll come up on them at night, take them down, and find out where this dragon is holed up. By the Black Horse, a dragon! Jon, you’re a man true to his word.”

Jon nodded his head and made a motion towards the little goblin who immediately peed all over himself, “Scat” he said and the creature got the idea well enough and fled headlong up the trail.

It took the about ten minutes to pile rocks on the body and find a suitable stone to carve Mikus’s name on. Germanius said something over the body but Sorus couldn’t bring himself to take part in the ceremony, more than to stand by with a dazed expression on his face, and soon they were on their way up the hill as they followed the trail of the little goblin. The creature didn’t do much to hide his path in its headlong flight and they were able to follow it with relative ease. By the time they cleared a small crest it was near dark, and Jon and Germanius picked a spot next to a small rise to tie up the horses.

“Get out the food but no fire,” said Jon to Sorus. “Germanius, you help him. I’m going up to find their cave or village or whatever. It shouldn’t be hard once it gets dark. I’ll be back in an hour at the most. I’ll call out like that little thrush bird that’s always around town, the trilla trilla sound so as you don’t kill me, right?”

“Got it,” said Sorus and suddenly felt his heart beat at a normal pace for the first time since the attack. He looked at Germanius who busily set up the camp and then he suddenly cried, great sobs shaking his shoulders and tears streaming down his face. The old warrior didn’t even look up and continued about his business while the strange episode continued for quite some time. Sorus tried to stop himself but each time broke more deeply into tears until after ten minutes he finally regained control of his emotions and began to help the old warrior. “I’m sorry about that,” he said and pulled open a tin of flat biscuits good for sustenance but not particularly tasty.

“It’s just fine,” said Germanius with a pat on the boy’s back. “First time you’ve killed anyone?”

Sorus nodded, “And the first time I’ve seen one of my friends get killed. It happened so fast, Mikus was just walking along and then he was dead, that could have been me. I could be dead right now.”

Germanius looked at the boy for a moment and then nodded his head, “Or me, or Jon, but it wasn’t, and that’s the way it is. Either you’ll get used to it or you’ll be the dead one, either way there’s not much to be done.”

Sorus sat for a moment on his haunches. “I always thought it would be more glorious,” he finally said.

“It’s never glorious in the doing,” said Germanius. “It’s in the remembering. That’s what’s glorious. Mikus is dead but he died helping us survive and we have to remember that. If we don’t then it was a wasted death. Jon’ll be back soon and then we’re gonna go up there and kill a bunch more of ‘em, maybe find a dragon, maybe find that Staff of Sakatha thing that Jon talked about, or maybe not. Maybe we’ll all die. Do you think you’re doing it for a reason?”

“I thought I was doing it for me,” said Sorus and thought for a long moment his eyes shut as he listened to the crickets that began their nightly song. “But, maybe I’m doing it for Elakargul, maybe wanting to be a knight isn’t about me at all, it’s about our country, about being free from the orcs, the old masters. I guess being a knight is good for me too, Shia might love me, people might respect me but being a hero, doing things, getting famous, that really helps the country more than me, I guess. I’m not sure. I have to think about it, I guess.”

“You’re a good lad,” said Germanius. “You keep with Jon there, maybe when this is all over you head north with him back to Tanelorn, make yourself a life. You fought well back there but I’m not going to knight you yet. You can do better and you will, and then I’ll knight you before I die. Even if that damned dragon grabs me in his talons the way the great black had Tractus Brokenhand the day he saved Simious Coppercoin, I’ll live long enough to make you a knight.”

“Thank you, Sir Germanius,” said Sorus. “I’ll … I’ll try and do better next time.”

Germanius nodded his head and pursed his lips, “You will boy, you’ll do fine, but remember what I said, you stay with that Jon Gray, that boy is something special. I’ve never seen his equal, not among the best of my old friends. That Tanelorn he talks about, his father, and now he’s down here to collect that thing, there is something going on in the world Sorus. I don’t know what it is and I won’t live to see what comes out of it, but there is something going on and you should be part of it. Promise me you’ll stick with Jon no matter what.”

“I will,” said Sorus. “He moves so fast and you didn’t see it, but he cut that goblin in half with a flick of his wrist, he didn’t even swing hard, the blade moved so fast I didn’t see it. That sword is thicker than my leg, how can it cut like that?”

“Magic, Old Imperial magic,” said Germanius. “I’ve seen enough of it over the years to recognize it.”

“Jon said his father was collecting relics from the Old Empire, putting them away where they can’t influence people,” said Sorus as the darkness slowly deepened. The air was noticeably cooler even just this  short distance into the mountain. “Here, we should put on our woolies and thick socks,” said Sorus and moved over to the horses. “And get out Jon’s also, he’ll be wanting them when he gets back.”

“You’re right son,” said Germanius. “I’m an old fool. My blood is a boil from the battle and I’m not thinking clearly,” he said and moved over to help Sorus unpack gear from the horses.

“That old magic is dangerous,” mused Germanius as they grabbed the mountain gear. “They could do things in the old days, you’ve never been to Doria, have ya?”

Sorus shook his head and said, “I hope someday.”

“The towers there, so high they’re in the clouds, and walkways between ‘em. It’s all magic, Old Empire magic from before men remember, from before Akiona I, before everything,” said Germanius and nodded his head as his voice slowly tailed off into silence.

“I heard that kings once ruled in Doria,” said Sorus, “is that true?”

Germanius shrugged his shoulders, “If so, it don’t much matter to you and me. It’s queens now and has been for as long as anyone remembers.”

“I guess,” said Sorus pulling out the last of the winter gear. He began to take off his clothes and put on the light wool underthings one layer at a time. “Gets cold quick, eh Germanius?” he said with a smile as he hopped into a pair of thick denim pants.

“It’ll be colder yet, but first it’ll be hot and bloody,” said Germanius as Sorus suddenly heard the call of the Ridgewayia Thrush and Jon Gray appeared around the corner, a narrow smile on his face.

“I found them,” he said, spotted the woolen clothes laid out on a rock and began to quickly change. “I thought we’d wait for a few hours until they’re mostly sleeping and then ambush.”

“How many are there and what’s their defenses?” said Germanius his hand on the hilt of his sword, “and was there any dragon sign?”

Jon shook his head. “I didn’t see a dragon but I saw a child of the dragons, big fella with wings and the rest of the dragon look, not a swamp reptile man by any stretch, or one of them little ones either. He was six foot at least and mostly green and white scales. They’re holed up in a cave about a mile from here. I watched them for a bit but there’s no telling how many are in there. I’d guess no more than a dozen judging by how many came out to piss while I was watching, but maybe they’ve got strong bladders.”

“A dozen?” said Sorus looking back and forth between Jon and Germanius. “That seems like a lot, we’re only three.”

“Surprise is the difference,” said Germanius. “Besides, you saw the goblin fellow run earlier, we hit ‘em hard and they’ll fold up sure enough, and then we find the dragon.”

“Don’t kill the dragon child,” said Jon. “I want to talk to him about the Staff of Sakatha, if any one knows it’ll be him.”

“I’ve don’t know much about them,” said Sorus, “does it really have wings?”

“We’ve got some south of us in the swamps,” said Jon. “Mostly they are just scaled folk with tails, not really much like a dragon, more like a lizard with two arms, two legs, and a head. The tough ones can have wings and sometimes they breathe fire or lightning so you gotta watch out. A bunch of them attacked Tanelorn a few years back when I was just a kid. I remember riding out with my dad and some of the gray druids but I didn’t do anything in the battle. Anyway, this one looked like he might be one of those tough ones with wings and lightning breath maybe.”

“A couple of years ago a snake looking one came through Black Dale but I was just five or six. I remember it had a forked tongue and a head like a snake but a body like a man except with scales,” said Sorus, his eyes half closed as he remembered the story.

“There are all kinds of children of the dragon,” said Germanius with a smile and shrug of his shoulder. “They die when you stick a sword in their belly just like everyone else.”

“Don’t kill him,” Jon repeated as he pulled on the last of his mountain clothes. “I want to talk to him about the staff.”

“You kin speak with the children of the dragon?” said Germanius and eyed the boy closely.

“My brother gave me this amulet,” said Jon, reaching beneath his woolen cloak and pulling out a small dragon shaped pendant. “If I wear this I can talk their lingo I guess,” he went on with a shrug of his shoulders. “If he knows where that staff is then I’ll have it out of him one way or the other.”

“Torture mostly don’t work,” said Germanius as he sat down on a nearby rock, pulled out a small knife, and began to whittle on a piece of wood.

“Works just fine from my memory,” said Jon as he paced back and forth and smacked his fist into his palm.

“Nope,” said Germanius, his old hands still skilled, as the stick slowly became a long, four legged, creature with a head full of teeth. “They just tell you what they think you want to hear, which is mostly just lies. After they tell you so much you pretty much don’t know what is a lie and what is true.”

Jon was silent for a while and Sorus looked at Germanius, “It sounds like you’ve seen something like that before?”

“When I was a kid, I wasn’t born in Elakargul,” said the old man. “I was a slave to the insect men; we worked the hives, us little ones with small hands were good for rooting out the bugs that got into the leaf farms. They’d whip us if we tried to eat any of the produce instead of the bugs. So, we’d mostly just lie but if the beating got too bad we’d say anything, say anyone was doing it whether they were or weren’t, it didn’t much matter, you just say anything to stop the pain.”

Jon and Sorus were silent as the old warrior continued to carve at the stick and it began to take the shape of a crocodile. “I won’t be part a no torture,” he said as he neared the end of his project.

Jon nodded his head, “I won’t torture anyone. Not now, not ever again. You’ve got my word as a gray knight on that Sir Germanius,” he said and looked at the old man with steady eyes.

Germanius said nothing but continued to whittle away until the thing looked just like a crocodile, “Show him this and see which way he looks,” said Germanius. “That’s one good way, another is to be nice, sometimes folks is glad to have a friend and they’ll say things.”

“How long before they’re asleep?” said Sorus and looked back and forth between Jon and Germanius.

“Hours,” said Germanius. “Sit down, do something, take your mind away, I like to whittle.”

“I like to make beer,” said Sorus with a smile on his face.

Germanius nodded, “I approve.”

Jon smiled as well, “I don’t think we’ve got the right ingredients or the equipment for that, too bad though. That’s a mighty fine brew you’ve got at the Smooth Stride. You didn’t bring a jug along by any chance?”

Sorus laughed, “Not a jug, no malt, no mash tun, not even a keg,” he said and held his arms out and shook his head. “Still, when this is all said and done I’ll brew us all up something tasty and we can drink it together.”

“Say a toast for me,” said Germanius. “I won’t be there, but I’ll be there.”

“We’ll do that,” said Jon and looked at the old warrior, “and we’ll find that dragon for you to fight as well. I can’t promise you anything too big but it’ll be a dragon at least.”

“Now, you boys,” said the old warrior pulling out a couple of more long sticks he had picked up along the day’s journey, “What’d ya know about whittling?”

Hours later they stood together outside a small cave a bit further up the hillside and watched the firelight from inside flicker in reds and oranges against the walls. A single creature, goblin, orc, or a mix between, stood at the cave entrance half asleep as he tried to keep his head up. He was so heavily bundled in woolens that he could barely move his arms, and Sorus had to keep from laughing as the beast tried to go to the bathroom without soiling itself. It was a near thing and they weren’t sure if he accomplished the mission or not.

Jon nodded to Sorus who fingered a long dagger as they watched, “Behind him and through the throat so he can’t cry out, just like Germanius showed you. Hold his head back so the blood has free flow.”

Sorus nodded his head and his hands were steady as he slowly moved down the rocky slope to where the creature stomped his feet for a moment, walked a few steps before it leaned back against the cave wall, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Sorus came up to the sentinel quickly, slipped the blade under his neck, and slit his throat with a quick motion. From even the short distance away that Germanius and Jon stood, they couldn’t make out the flow of blood, and the creature’s legs immediately gave way as the young brewer lowered him silently to the floor. A few seconds later all three of them stood outside the cave together.

Jon drew the massive stone sword from its scabbard and nodded his head in approval to Sorus while Germanius drew his own steel blade and the three moved into the cave with quick steps although not quite at a run. A few screams rang out a moment later, there was a strange little tinkling sound as blade hit blade, but only seconds later it was over.

Four goblins lay dead on the cave floor as pools of blood grew into large puddles that accumulated an indentation and were soaked up by heavy straw mats, while five more sat against the far wall their hands raised over their heads and their eyes wide with fear. A large orc moaned on the floor his left arm, still clenching a long blade, chopped off, while his right arm tried to staunch the flow of blood from the wound. Finally a strange child of the dragons sat on one of the straw cots his lips curled into a snarl, a dagger in his hand, but blood flowed freely from a deep stab wound in his upper leg.

Jon motioned to the orc against the wall and one of the goblins rushed over and began to attempt to stop the flow of blood with a heavy cloth jerkin bandage although it did little to help.

“Needs a tourniquet,” said Germanius to Sorus. “You know how to tie one?”

Sorus nodded his head and went over to help the goblin with the orc while Jon walked over the dragon creature as it took in a deep breath. Jon shook his head, the left side of sandy blonde hair flew freely while the right side was matted down with blood. “Don’t do it!” but his shout was not quick enough as a blast of greenish gas billowed out of its mouth towards the gray knight who dodged quickly to the right and only took a small part of the blast. Jon took a single stride forward and hit the creature in the head with the butt end of his sword, which sounded a loud crack. The dragon child immediately slumped over while Jon shook his head and put his hand to his eyes. “Burns like fire,” he said.

“Don’t rub it,” said Germanius. “Sorus get that jug of water there and rinse out his eye with it, I’ll keep watch on the prisoners.

Sorus, half-finished as he helped the little goblin tie the tourniquet around the stump on the now unconscious orc, quickly turned over the job to the orc’s ally. He then leapt up and followed Germanius’s commands and held the jug over Jon’s eye.

The gray knight squirmed away and tried to scratch at it as Sorus noted some blisters on his cheek. “Stop that Jon, let me get water in there,” he said, unstoppered the jug, and held it up.

“Smell that,” said Germanius and Sorus realized that he might be ready to pour beer or alcohol into the wound and brought the jug to his nose to make certain of its contents. He didn’t smell anything but decided to take a sip just in case and found it contained nothing more than water. He then held it over Jon’s eyes and quickly poured out a bit too much as it slopped over the lip in a rush. Jon pulled away and shook his head for a moment and then turned back to Sorus his eye closed and already swollen.

“Better give it another wash just in case,” he said and held open his eye with his forefinger and thumb as he knelt down and tilted his head back for another splash.

Sorus was a little more careful with the jug this time and managed to get a healthy dollop of the water on target. After a few more careful applications the young gray knight seemed to be somewhat soothed.

“Damn thing,” said Jon and took the jug from Sorus and poured it over his head. “I should have seen it coming.”

“You did see it coming,” said Sorus as he turned back to the prisoners and noted with satisfaction that they still sat huddled against the wall with no hint of aggression on their faces. “You missed most of it. I’d hate to see what would have happened if you got the full blast.”

“I’d not be as pretty anymore,” said Jon as he fingered his eye and Sorus could see redness even in the dim light of the cave.

“Tie them goblins up,” said Jon. “The orc is done for, he’s lost too much blood,” he continued and walked over to the unconscious creature whose arm was not effectively treated and the blood flow had slowed to a thick trickle. He grabbed the creature by the chin and turned his head first one way and then the other. “He’s finished. Shouldn’t have gone for his sword or he’d be alive today.”

“What about him,” asked Sorus and looked up from his job with a nod to the child of the dragon who still lay unconscious on the floor.

“I hit him pretty good,” said Jon, his huge stone sword now sheathed. “I don’t think he’ll be waking up for a bit but I didn’t bash his skull like I did that fellow down the hill. I meant to just knock him flat but I was a bit keyed up and hit him too hard.”

Germanius came over with a bucket of what looked to be dish water. “Put on that amulet,” he said and then threw the contents of the bucket on the child of the dragon with a splash. A moment later the creature sputtered to consciousness as it spit water from its mouth and tried to rise, although it immediately gave a cry of agony as the deep wound in its leg made itself felt. “Show him the carving,” said Germanius as he eyed the creature with a steady gaze.

Jon pulled out the wood statue the grizzled veteran gave him earlier in trade for his own more poorly carved specimen. The creature’s eyes widened for a moment and it looked towards a wall of the cave that was, to all apparent vision, nothing out of the ordinary. Sorus was by now finished with the goblins and immediately went over to the area to search it closely.

The wall of the cave didn’t look unusual in any way, sort of a dull gray with sparkly things in it, and Sorus couldn’t make out anything different in this section from any other area. “I don’t see anything,” he said over his shoulder.

“Take a branch from the fire,” said Germanius, “and bang around a bit,” he added with a nod of his head. “I’ll bet my left arm there’s something there, something to do with the dragon, or the staff, or both.”

Sorus came over, took a brand from the fire, and walked back over to the section of the cave where the creature looked a moment ago. The child of the dragon, for his part, looked anywhere but that area as it snarled at Jon. At one point it went to inhale deeply again but the Gray Knight punched him hard in the stomach, and it rolled over on its side and held its belly after that although the movement forced more blood from its leg.

“He’ll bleed to death if we don’t get that wound covered,” said Germanius to Jon as Sorus searched the back region of the cave.

“Go ahead,” said Jon. “I want to keep my eye on him in case he tries breathing that toxic goo on me again.”

Germanius nodded his head and began to pull some of the clothes off the dead goblins and rip them into strips. Within a few minutes he had enough to tie them around the upper thigh of the creature several times over and staunch the flow of blood. The beast didn’t squirm too much and managed to keep a snarl on its face the entire time.

“I found something,” said Sorus as he came back from the search just as Germanius finished with the wound. “There’s a notch in the wall or something, I tried to pull it and push it but nothing happened. Maybe I’m imagining it,” he finished with a shrug of his shoulders. “I didn’t see anything else suspicious looking. It might just be a natural indentation. I can’t tell a thing in this firelight. It’s hours until morning and I don’t like the idea of waiting here,” he finished with a look at the bodies on the floor and puddles of blood that slowly shrank as the straw sucked up the excess. The boy felt nauseous for a long moment and thought about going outside the cave to get some fresh air but then decided against it as Jon sat hunched over the strange dragon creature and whispered something to it as it continued to glare at nothing and remained silent.

“It’s something,” said Germanius as he came back. “Looks to me like a little piece fits in there. Search gas breath there is my bet,” he finished while he stared at the creature.

“It’s not talking any,” said Jon, “and I doubt the show it the statue trick will work again. “Sorus, you know what that notch looks like in the wall, see if you can find anything on the dragon child that looks like it might fit while I’ll go through his things. If he breathes in deeply give him a club to the stomach,” he finished with a nod to the young boy.

“My eyes ain’t what they used to be,” said Germanius. “Especially in the dark.”

“You looked like you could see just fine when you killed that one that was coming up behind me,” said Sorus as he reached down and pulled at the heavy wool shirt the creature wore. The shirt was empty but it’s pants pockets contained a number of strange items including a little silver stick like object with two curved projectiles coming off the end. “I think I found something,” said Sorus, holding it up to the light, and the creature suddenly hissed at him although the venom of the action was somehow less, the light in the creature’s eyes seemed to be dim. “It’s lost a lot of blood,” said the young brewer and looked at the blood soaked bandages that covered the wound. “I think you might have got him in a vital spot, Germanius,” he concluded.

“You were the one that stabbed him, Sorus,” said the old knight and patted him on the back.

“I was?” asked Sorus as he suddenly straightened up and looked at the older knight with his lips pursed. He scratched his head for a moment and then shook it back and forth. “I don’t remember that … well … we rushed in and then Jon killed that one up front and I stabbed the other one and then … well … it happened so fast. It was like it happened slow then but now, I can’t seem to remember it. Did I really do it?”

Germanius nodded his head, “It was a fine blow just as it was going for its blade, right where you could put it down without killing it,” he said. “Maybe too deep and too close to the big blood veins in the leg but we’ve got what we need and prisoners are never easy to deal with when you’re a small party. Check his belt pouch, he’s probably got some silver or gold and we might need that before we’re done here in on the mountain. Them creatures deal in precious metals and we’re not in Elekargul anymore.”

Sorus rummaged around the creature’s belt for a moment and felt it stiffen in resistance, but then it slid down against the back wall and closed its eyes. Its breathing became shallower each moment and by the time the young brewer pulled a small pouch that made a satisfying chink sound from its belt it was clear the creature would be dead in a matter of moments. “Should we just let it die?” he asked as he looked down on it.

“We tried to bandage it,” said Jon with a shrug. “We can’t stay here and take care of it or they’ll be hundreds of them down on our head soon enough. Germanius is right; we use that thing you found, see what’s in the back of the cave there, and move on.”

Sorus stood for a moment longer and stared at the unconscious creature and the moment of the attack came back to him with terrible intensity. He remembered his sword when it cut down the first goblin as it turned to look at him with surprise the only expression on its face, then he turned to his right and saw the dragon child as it rose up from its position on the straw mat, a sword in its hand, and he stabbed forward with the tip of his blade as he had practiced so many times while he dreamed of knighthood. He remembered as he watched the other boys lucky enough to be chosen as squires while he still lay on the sick bed and wished he didn’t have to be the one with the weak constitution, that it was he who learned to be a squire, learned to be a hero of Elakargul. Then, after he sunk his blade into the thing’s leg, which had the same resistance as that goblin boy’s stomach down the hill, like a stab into a mass of straw, the flash out of the corner of his eye as the larger goblin came at him and Germanius struck it down with a casual swipe of his sword. “Will I ever be able to kill something so casually,” he thought to himself and then tried to imagine what he must have looked like to Jon and the grizzled knight while he stabbed the dragon child in the leg. “I wonder if they think about everyone they’ve ever killed,” he continued to muse to himself for a moment longer as the slow breath of the creature seemed almost ready to stop but then, just when he thought it was done, another ragged gasp came from the poor thing.

“Come along, Sir Sorus,” said Germanius. “We’ve got work to do and you’re going to have to figure out a name to take.”

Sorus looked at Germanius his eyes opened wide for a just a moment as he suddenly realized that his boyhood fantasy was a reality. He was a knight of Elekargul as pronounced by another knight. Somehow it wasn’t as great a moment as he imagined all those times.

“Not what you were expecting,” said Germanius and put his arm around the boy and smiled with the amazingly full set of teeth the veteran still had in his head.

“No,” said Sorus and shook his head. “I imagined it different but I guess it’s probably always pretty much like this.”

“It’s always different,” said Germanius. “I’ve knighted seven boys before you in my years and not one was the same. Someday you’ll be knighting boys and then you think of me now and again, won’t you?”

Sorus nodded his head, “I’ll never forget you Sir Germanius. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”

“Now, don’t get sentimental on an old fart,” said the knight with a smile. “This night is far from done and I smell dragon meat not far in our future. It’ll likely kill us all but you wouldn’t be the first boy knighted and killed in the same day. Not by a long shot.”

“What are you two talking about,” said Jon as he suddenly emerged from around the corner of the cave. “I untied the goblin boys. No sense letting them starve to death in the cave or get eaten by a bear. Where’s that key you found?”

“Right here,” said Sorus and pulled out the silver device. Jon looked at it for a long moment.

“I couldn’t find that notch of yours,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, “so the honor is yours. Just remember if there’s a dragon behind it then we let Sir Old Fart go first! Right?”

“Right,” said Sorus with a smile and Germanius let go a great guffaw. Sorus heard a scramble behind them as the goblins fled the cave but then began to look closely at the wall as he tried to find the little indentation he noted just a few moments before. It took him five frustrating minutes to find the thing but once he did the little silver key thing fit into it like a custom made lance in the hands of a veteran knight of Elekargul. Nothing happened for a long moment as the three stared at the silver thing glinting in the notch of the wall. Then there was a deep sort of grumble of a sound as the cave began to shake like in an earthquake.

Most of the volcanoes in the region were west of Elekargul in the territories of Doria and the orc realms, but there were still plenty of earth tremors, and Sorus knew enough of what they felt like not to be too frightened. Still, it was unnerving to be inside a cave under tens of thousands of tons of rock when an earthquake was going on all around you. It didn’t last long and the three men looked at each for a moment with eyes wide in the dim light of the fire.

“Did you see anything move?” said Jon and looked at Germanius, who shook his head and turned to Sorus, who in turn shook his own head and looked around. “Maybe it was back a bit,” said Jon and turned deeper into the small cave, “where we tied up the goblins.”

In a moment the three moved towards the rear of the cave and found the cause of the strange rumble. A large stone stalactite that ran from the ceiling almost to the floor along the wall had swiveled or twisted somehow to reveal a wide passage behind it, with a set of perfectly cut stairs, both wide and smooth, that led downwards, not into darkness but into light as evenly-spaced light stones were embedded into the wall to provide fine illumination for the trip down.

“I’ll be a two-legged dolphin,” said Germanius with a look of astonishment at the passage. “I been around a bit and ain’t never seed nothing like that afore.”

Jon Gray stared at it as well. “I have,” he said. “It’s Old Empire made for sure. Sorus, maybe you should head back and tell the people in town what we found.”

“The hell with that Jon,” said the boy, “and call me Sir Sorus if you don’t mind.”

Jon nodded his head, “You can call me fish for brains but that’s dangerous stuff down there, darklings, brain suckers, black things, if you come with us it won’t be pleasant.”

“Sir Fish for Brains,” said Germanius and clapped Jon on the back.

Jon laughed out loud as did Sorus. “Ok then,” said the young Tanelornian as he put his hand on the hilt of his sword and moved to the front. “Follow me.”

Chapter 8

“I don’t know why you trust that dragon child,” said the ghoulish creature as it licked its lips with an impossibly long tongue and fingered the open sores along its left side with the two digits that remained on its right hand. Before it, on a throne made of the thick bones of several creatures, or possibly of one many ribbed beast, sat Lord Whitebone in a regal and lush purple robe. “The creature clearly works for the lizards of Darag’dal, that unctuous Melharras, and his overly sly sidekick. It will betray us and use the Staff of Sakatha for his own ends once we raise the master.”

“You servants of the Lady of the Abyss are not capable of independent thought,” said Whitebone with a shake of his head and he gave a strange sigh. How he managed such without any air in his lungs remained a mystery to the ghoul lord but one he did not ponder greatly, being without a heartbeat himself. “The only one of you that shows any capability towards rational thinking is Tenebrous and I understand he is, once again, in trouble with she who has ruled for all eternity.”

“Do not speak his name,” said the ghoul as it scratched at other sores, this time on its leg. “The sooner she returns him to the Deathlands from whence he came the sooner I can take back my rightful place beside her throne.”

“The internal strife within the Abyss bores me,” said Whitebone as he somehow managed a tired expression on his skeletal face. “I understand the child of the dragon’s motivation just as I understand your motivation Thantos, the motivation of the lizards, the motivation of your mistress, and the motivations of the cockroach that crawls across your foot. Do you suppose for a moment that I don’t?”

Thantos looked at his foot for a moment, started to jump backwards, managed to control himself, and looked back up at the skeletal lord with fangs bared, “You like to play games Lord Whitebone,” he said, a small snarl coming from his mouth, “but you cannot think that giving Snowball to that creature was wise.”

“Again, you presume to tell me my business, I clearly was not plain enough in my admonishment. Thantos, do not tell me how to run my affairs, do not critique my decisions; report to me the messages from your mistress and consider yourself privileged that I do not send you to the Deathlands myself.

Thantos scratched himself under the arm and sniffed at the finger for a moment before he returned to scratch a little more.

The tall skeletal figure shook his boney head and sighed, “You are certain that I cannot deal with Tenebrous anymore?”

“The shadow whose name shall not be spoken is not able to fulfill his duties at this time because he cannot follow orders. You will deal with me and only me if you wish to communicate with the lady of the Abyss, she who rules eternally,” said Thanotos. “Now, you will tell me your plan to gain the Staff of Sakatha from the lizards, should they manage to find the thing.”

“I will,” said Lord Whitebone as he made this statement seem more like a question.

“You will or you face the wrath of the mistress of the Abyss. She aided you up until now only because of your past loyalty but do not take her support for granted. She wants to have the Staff of Sakatha.”

“Of course she wants the staff,” said Whitebone with a shake of his head. “Everyone knows she wants it so that she can control Sakatha when he rises as a lich lord.”

Thantos bowed his head, “I cannot speak to my mistress’s desires,” he said and once again licked his impossibly long tongue over his teeth. “I can only convey messages from her to you, Lord Whitebone. She wants to know, specifically, what are you doing to acquire the staff?”

“I have explained to both you and Tenebrous before you,” said Whitebone, although Thantos grimaced at the name, “that I am doing everything in my power to gain the staff. There are a number of possible outcomes to the endeavor and success is uncertain. Your mistress will have to live with that.”

“She will not like it,” said Thantos. “She wants more concrete reports as to your plans. She learned through sources that you sent your dragon up to the surface to aid the darkling’s men and their allies and this has upset her. She wants to know what you are doing, specifically, to get her the staff.”

“I do not have time for this nonsense, Thantos,” said Whitebone his hands beating out a strange tempo at the bone arm of the throne. “I am trying to get the staff. If we do not get the staff then we cannot use the staff. I don’t know where the staff is currently located, your mistress doesn’t know where the staff is currently located, I don’t know where the remains of Sakatha are hidden or even how to use the staff to resurrect his deathly form. The first step in this process is to find the damn staff!” said the skeletal creature and for the first time raised his voice. “Now, the only one who knows where the thing is hidden is the toxic one and his dreams are unpredictable and certainly not available to the likes of you or me. So, we have to use his dreams as a conduit to someone we can control once they obtain the staff. Does this chain of logic stretch your ability to follow it?”

Thantos thought for a moment and began to scratch himself on one of his many open sores and then looked up at the tall skeletal figure, “So, you hope to use the dragon child to get the staff and then take it from him?”

Whitebone nodded his head almost wearily if that were possible for a living skeleton. “I’m so pleased you have grasped the nuances of the situation.”

“But what if the creature gains the staff and takes it back to the lizards?” said Thantos.

“There is nothing certain in life or in death,” said Whitebone. “That is a dilemma we will deal with when it comes. The first thing is to make sure that the staff is found. That being said, do you think it will be useful to have my pet dragon around when the staff is found?”

Thantos thought for long minutes as Whitebone stared at him, the deep red embers of his eyes glowing with muted heat, finally the ghoul scratched himself again. “I shall report your progress to the mistress of the Abyss, she who rules eternally, and, if you are lucky, she won’t summon you to her side. You are a creature beyond the curtain of life as am I, and you too are subject to her will, no matter that in your arrogance you might believe otherwise. Do not think to betray her Whitebone, or she will send you to the Deathlands. I understand you’ve never been?”

Whitebone stood up, turned away, walked down a narrow corridor, and left the ghoul to his own devices. The creature smiled deeply and revealed its long fangs yet again, “Run away little skeleton, run away,” he said in a low whisper, “the mistress will have you soon enough and, after she is tired of playing with you, you will be mine.”

Chapter 9

The wide, well lit staircase went down and down; somewhere past the two hundredth step Sorus lost exact count, and another hundred after that he no longer bothered to keep track. The evenly spaced lights made the passage of time and distance seem like a dream, and the young brewer wasn’t sure how far or how long they had traveled when he bumped into Germanius whose hand was up against the wall. “What is it?” asked the young brewer.

“It’s my knees,” said the old knight. “These stairs are too much, give me a moment to rest,” he finished and flexed first his left knee and then his right.

“Jon,” whispered Sorus, but the gray knight was already too many steps ahead to hear the voice. “Jon!” he said a little more loudly but even that voice seemed to die in the stairwell. “Wait here,” he said to Germanius with a pat on the old warrior’s shoulder. “I’ll get him and we’ll wait a bit. It’s been a long day and night, we all need to rest.” With that Sorus started off down the stairs in pursuit of Jon as he whispered out now and again, “Jon!” but he got no reply. He went down another hundred steps at a quickened pace and once stumbled as his toe caught an edge, and he almost fell head over heels but managed to catch himself with a quick hand on the wall and skittered to a stop, “Jon!” he whispered again, “Jon, wait, it’s Germanius!” But there was no reply. Sorus stood for a long moment and looked forward down the stairs and backwards towards Germanius and then sighed, “damn.” Then he began to trudge back up the stairs towards the old warrior. It took him longer than he thought but he found the man coming down towards him with hobbled little strides.

“Germanius,” he whispered as he came up to the old warrior. “Sit down, Jon’s gone ahead but he’ll realize he’s alone and come back for us soon enough,” although Sorus didn’t believe it even as the words came out of his mouth. After a month with young Jon Gray the brewer knew the boy’s habits too well and caution wasn’t one of his traits.

The knight of Elekargul looked at Sorus for a long moment as if he wanted say something caustic but then a pained expression came over his face and he winced badly. “Damn shooters, maybe you’re right, I’ll sit for a spell. That boy is headstrong but I can’t say I wasn’t the same when I was his age. He’s got a lot of responsibility for one so young.” With that the knight slowly lowered himself to a stair and, with Sorus’s help, came to the ground with only a small thump. “Ahhh, damn that hurts,” he said.

“It’s ok, Germanius,” said Sorus. “Now that I think about it, my knees hurt too and I’m exhausted. I’m a fifth your age. We’ve pushed too much. We should have stayed in that cave and waited until morning.”

“I should argue with you,” grunted Germanius, leaning against the wall and putting his legs out along the step, “but I’m too damn tired.”

“Here,” said Sorus and took off his heavy woolen jerkin, “use this as a pillow, it’s warm down here anyway,” he said and put it under the old knight’s head. “Get some sleep, Jon’ll be back eventually, he won’t just leave us.”

Germanius nodded his head and his eyes began to close even before he leaned back on the make-shift pillow. Within seconds his snores filled the stairwell and suddenly Sorus felt very sleepy as well. He knew he had to stay away to keep watch over the old knight but it wasn’t long before he dreamed as well. It seemed only a moment later that a rough shake of his shoulder woke him up. “Good morning,” said Jon and smiled down at him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Huh,” said Sorus, looking around. He couldn’t remember where he was for a moment. “Where are we?”

“On the stairs into the darkling land,” said Jon. “I let you sleep for a few hours, Sir Germanius is still out, but I’m going to need some sleep as well. Can you take over the watch?”

Sorus nodded his head, “At least it’s warm,” he said and groaned as he tried to sit up.

“What is it?” said Jon.

“My back,” said Sorus, reaching behind and putting his palm to his spine. “This floor is a bit harder than my bed at home or even that cot at the Smooth Strider. I’ll be ok.”

“We should have thought all this through before we charged away,” said Jon with a shake of his head. “I’m worried about the horses as well. We left them hobbled back at the camp site and they won’t survive more than a couple of days without water. We need to finish up here and head back as soon as possible. If Jane finds out about this I’ll never hear the end of it. Now, keep watch and give me a few hours of sleep. If Sir Germanius is up for it in the morning I know where to go.”

“Where?” said Sorus as he suddenly came fully awake and the pain in his spine vanished.

But Jon already lay on the stone step his eyes closed and his breath in an even rhythm.

It seemed to Sorus that each minute took an hour as he watched the two sleep that long, long night, but eventually Germanius stirred, groaned loudly, and opened his eyes. It took the old warrior a few seconds to focus in on Sorus and then Jon, still gently in slumber, but then he grimaced and began slowly to rise.

“Arrahgh,” he said. “That smarts,” and he grabbed at his back exactly the way Sorus did earlier. “How long did you let me sleep?”

“I’m not sure, how do you keep track of time underground?” said Sorus.

“You don’t,” said Germanius. “You pretty much eat when your belly tells you and sleep when you’re tired. I was underground once for almost a week chasing darklings back in the year Romius Openpalm was First Rider. We never caught them and we only found out how long we were underground later when we got back up. It’s a strange thing being underground.” All the while the old knight stretched and turned first his legs, then his arms, and finally his back. “I haven’t warmed up like this in years,” said the old knight, “but you should do it. It keeps the body limber.”

“I’m not too bad,” said Sorus, smiling and stretching his arms to the sky.

“I know that, because you’re young,” said Germanius. “But, you should learn to stretch everyday proper like and when you get older you won’t have as many troubles.”

“So, how do I do it?” asked the young knight and watched Germanius. The two went through a long series of small movements and by the end Sorus had to admit that he did feel a bit better. When they finished they saw Jon Gray watching them with a twinkle in his eye.

“I’ve seen morning salutations like that before,” he said. “In Tanelorn we’re allies with the elves of Alianus and they practice that sort of thing. One of my father’s friends, a dwarf named Sir Pedlow Fivefist has a son that married an elf girl and she tried to teach them to me.”

“A dwarf married to an elf?” said Germanius, “That must be some place, your Tanelorn. She must be an ugly elf.”

“It’s a long story but ugly isn’t the word I’d use for Appolonia,” said Jon and got up and started a routine similar but different from the one Germanius used.

“It’ll take me a wee bit longer to be ready,” said the old knight with a smile as he flexed his leg. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell it. I’m sure the boy wants to know,” he continued with a look towards Sorus. “Yes, even though you’re a knight now, I can still call you a boy,” he said which shut the objection that was on Sorus’s lips before it could emerge.

“About five years ago, I was just a kid then,” started Jon, “a group of orc kingdoms called the Five Nations attacked an elf nation called Alianus. My father has pledged never to lead a war of aggression and we only defend ourselves, but to get to Alianus the orcs either had to go through a gnoll kingdom called Grelm or Tanelorn. My father and many of the knights wouldn’t let the orcs pass so we got involved in the fight. One of the dwarves was the son of Sir Pedlow, a fellow by the name of Sir Strombolt Fivefist, and he went up to the elf lands for something or another. I can never remember the story, but he ended up saving the life of one of the elf princes, Halavar Evenday, but took a terrible wound doing it. Halavar took Strombolt back to his home in Alianus and his sister, Appolonia, nursed Strombolt back to health. Well, you can guess the rest. They’ve got a little girl now but I can’t remember her name. She bit me though, I remember that, when I tried to pinch her.”

“Maybe if I get wounded,” said Sorus, and Jon and Germanius looked at the boy with smiles on their faces.

“It’s a good strategy for finding a wife, that’s true,” said the old warrior and chucked Sorus on the chin, “but it comes with its own dangers.”

“The wounds or the wife?” said Jon.

“You’ll find a girl that steals your heart one day,” said Germanius to the young gray knight. “I know you’re happy to sow your wild oats in whatever pretty lass happens by the farm, but one day you’ll find someone and then you’ll see. Yes you will.”

“I already found the one I want,” said Sorus, and neither the old man or the young knight chose to contradict him.

“Come along now,” said Jon. “Sir Germanius, I’ve found that dragon for you and it’s not a small one either. I wouldn’t call it an earth shaker but a good twenty feet long to the tail, white as snow, with a pair of horns about as long my dick and twice as thick!”

The old knight suddenly stood up straight and nodded his head, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. “You’ll let me strike the first blow, boy,” he said more as an order than a request and Jon nodded his head.

“Of course, old man, a promise is a promise,” he replied and put a huge hand on the knight’s shoulder. “It’s about five hundred steps down and then along a corridor into a cave. It’s with another of those dragon children and a darkling elf. I couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying, but I think it might have something to do with my little quest as well. I think they’re waiting for our friends upstairs and I doubt they’ll wait much longer.”

“Then why do you stand there and yak away,” said Germanius, looking up at Jon, and putting his hand to the hilt of his sword. “Let’s be about it. If this is my last day alive I’d prefer it to be shorter than the second to last. My knees can’t handle much more. I feel like it’s bone rubbing bone down there, can’t you hear the grinding?” he said and squatted down and then rose again.

Jon and Sorus listened for a moment but the old man suddenly broke into a large grin, “Stop your foolishness boys, I wasn’t serious. There’s a dragon to kill and I’m just the old knight to do it.”

With that the three made their way down the stairs, although Sir Germanius moved with care and his limp became pronouncedly worse as the journey went on.

“Only 500 steps you say,” said Germanius with a grimace as his right knee almost collapsed under him.

“Here, put an arm around my shoulder,” said Jon and leaned down and put his own arm around the waist of the old knight. “You need to save up strength so you can kill that white beast down there.”

“Ahh, that I do,” said the old knight as he slipped his arm around Jon, who walked hunched over to help Sir Germanius, as they slowly made their way down the staircase.

It seemed like hours to Sorus as he watched the old knight and Jon Gray limp down the stairs, and the long journey gave him too much time to think, “Maybe I should whittle,” he said quietly to himself and then laughed. This brought about a glance from Jon and Germanius but neither said anything as they continued their trip. “It’s well and good for Sir Germanius to want to die in glory at the end of his life, but fighting a dragon I could die as well, and for what, so that Jon can find this thing his father just wants to lock away so no one can ever get to it?” he thought to himself as the journey continued. “If it’s that powerful who’s to say I couldn’t use it and become a great knight, the First Rider, and then Shia will marry me.”

Every time his thoughts drifted down this path he pulled himself up short and tried to think more nobly, like a knight should, but it didn’t take him long to realize that being Sir Sorus didn’t change him more than his thirteenth birthday changed him into being a man. “I’m the same person no matter what,” he finally admitted to himself. “I want the same things I wanted before. I promised Sir Germanius I’d stay with Jon and I guess that’s what I’ll do.”

He just came to that decision when they reached the bottom of the seemingly endless stairwell. “Who could have built these stairs?” he asked out loud and looked back up to the endless string of light stones that stretched behind them.

“Darklings,” said Jon, but Germanius shook his head. “This was built by the Old Empire, nobody builds a set of stairs like this unless they’re marching armies. When the emperor finished conquering the world he started conquering the darklings and this was one of the roads that made it possible.”

“You can’t know that,” said Jon with a skeptical look at the old man. “It could be darkling construction just as easily.”

“No,” said Germanius, “I’ve seen plenty of darkling tunnels to the surface and they’re not anything like this. This is a road for an army and the darkling’s don’t invade the surface, they can’t stand the light. Besides, they see well enough in the dark, what do ya think those light stones in the walls are doing?”

“That’s true,” said Sorus and Jon nodded his head.

“You’re probably right, Germanius but that was so long ago. My father, he thinks the Old Empire … that things are turning circle, that creatures buried during the reign of the Usurper before the fall of everything are coming back, that the world is … well, I don’t even really know, he mostly talks to Val about that stuff.”

“I thought your sister was named Jane,” said Sorus.

“My older brother Valarius,” said Jon. “He’s a druid. He and father talk a lot about those sorts of things but I’ve never really been much interested. It always seemed kind of boring but these steps are something else. The power to do something like this, the power to make … Banisher,” said the young gray knight.

“Banisher!” said Germanius and suddenly turned to him. “That’s a name from the dim. Banisher, the Black Sword, wielded by the Usurper to slay the Emperor and send his allies back to the Nine Hells and beyond.”

“No one knows if those stories are true,” said Jon. “In any case, yonder lies a big open cavern and the dragon is inside with the darkling elf and the dragon child. I don’t think we can surprise them. The cave is big and they’ll see us coming from a distance.”

“How can we take them then?” asked Sorus, his hand ahold of his slim blade. The cold of the hilt made him feel better, but the thought of a dragon quickly sent fear through his body again. He felt his legs suddenly go weak, and he put a hand up against the wall to steady himself. “If we can’t surprise them and that dragon unleashes his breath on us we’ll never even get close to them.”

“We don’t know if it can use its breath,” said Jon. “Not all dragons can but we do need a plan and I’ve been thinking all the way down here.”

“Go on, Jon,” said Germanius, standing up straight and looking into the young knights eyes as much as he could from so far below. “You make a plan and I’ll follow it. So will Sir Sorus here. This is your mission and yours alone to decide.”

“They’re waiting for those creatures we killed upstairs, so they might not be in the mood to attack us right away,” said Jon. “Germanius goes in first and tells them you found their friends just after an ambush up in that cave. Tell them the truth, the dying creatures, the bloody remains, and then say something about a giant human with a big sword and a young knight of Elekargul. Then Sorus and I burst in; while they look at us you close in on the dragon and kill the creature. You’ll be alone up there against all of them for a few moments and it won’t be easy but Sir Sorus and I will come up as fast as we can to help you.”

“I’ll have to cover my knightly sigil,” said Germanius and pointed to the symbol of the knights of Elekargul, a set of four horseshoes pointing away from each other and a hand broken at the wrist in the middle.

“I don’t think so,” said Jon. “I didn’t watch them long but I got the impression the dragon child and the white dragon weren’t from around here and the darkling elf has probably never been on the surface at all. He might know about the knights of Elekargul but he won’t make the connection between your symbol and the knights fast enough. If we go quickly this has a chance of working.”

“All right,” said Germanius. “I’ll kill the dragon but I won’t be able to hold off the others long.”

Jon stood up straight and stuck his hand out for the old knight to grasp and they shook for a long moment and stared at one another. “It’s been a pleasure serving with you Sir Germanius Brokenhand,” said Jon with a nod of his head. “If I ever do find one girl to settle down with I’ll remember you to her with kind words.”

Sir Germanius smiled, “You’re a good boy, Jon,” he said. “But you’re young and headstrong. You listen to your father if you ever make it back to Tanelorn, and I want you to promise me something.”

“Of course,” said Jon with a nod of his head, “anything.”

“Take Sir Sorus with you. You two are bound together I think. Take him back to this Tanelorn of yours, keep him with you and keep him safe.”

Jon nodded, “I will.”

The two men then turned to Sorus who stood there, a sheepish look on his face, and suddenly he found tears in his eyes, “I don’t want you to die, Germanius,” he blubbered and hated himself immediately.

“What you want doesn’t matter,” said the old knight with a smile as he patted the young knight on the shoulder. “It’s time for me to die. You watch me kill that dragon and tell everyone back in town; my grandson lives in the hills west of Red Roost. You tell him how I died, and you tell the First Rider.”

Sorus nodded as the tears still came down his face, “I will, Sir Germanius. You can count on me.”

“I know I can,” replied the knight and then turned towards the cave mouth and strode inside.

A moment later they heard his voice calling, “Great dragon of the north, I have news of your allies, they are slain by a giant but they told me of the staff!”

There was a sudden babble of sounds from beyond the door as the acoustics of the large cave seemed to turn all conversation into a muddle.

“Give him a few moments to get away from the cave entrance,” said Jon. “He’ll move off to the side so they’re not looking directly at it and then we make our move.”

Sorus nodded and pulled out his sword, “I’m with you, Jon.”

“I know,” said Jon. “It looks like I’m to take you back to Tanelorn. There’s no getting out of that promise I made to Germanius, so you’re stuck with me.”

Sorus nodded and they waited for a few more seconds and then Jon pulled his mammoth stone sword from its scabbard and raised it up, “For the Gray!” he shouted and dashed into the room. Sorus didn’t have a moment to contemplate the war cry but simply shouted out, “For Elakargul” and charged in after.

Sorus watched Jon as he loped across the smooth marble floor of the immense cavern, immediately broke into a sprint of his own, but fell further behind with every stride. The seven foot tall teenager moved with apparent languid motions but covered ground faster than a sprinter, which left Sorus far behind. Up ahead stood the first dragon the young knight saw outside of pictures, a dragon child much like the one upstairs but with green and white scales, and a darkling elf with purplish black skin, silver hair, and a twinkling set of chain mail on his breast and arms. In front of them stood Sir Germanius, his arms spread out as if in appeal although the eyes of the three foes eyes locked on Jon Gray as he dashed towards them his sword raised above his head.

Things seemed to move in slow motion as Sorus willed his legs to move faster. The darkling elf moved first as it pulled a slim, curved blade from the jeweled scabbard at his side and lunged towards Jon and shouted out something in a language that the young knight did not understand. The dragon child looked towards the white dragon in confusion and the creature itself, just as Jon described with two long, thick horns protruding from its head, turned to face Jon with a look of anticipation in its eyes.

“Jon Gray,” it said in the plainest words Sorus ever heard in his life. “My master told me you might be meddling in these affairs. I’m glad it will be I, Snowball the steed of Lord Wh …. Argahaha,” it screamed, and Sorus noted Sir Germanius’s sword plunged deeply into its neck.

The dragon child hissed, charged towards the old knight, and drew a wicked blade from its side with a quick motion.

“Watch out!” screamed Sorus still halfway across the great chamber and Germanius pulled the blade from the creatures neck but not before it reached forward like a snake with one talon and grabbed the wrist of the old warrior. Sorus heard the snap from across the room clearly, but the broken sword arm didn’t stop the old knight as he pulled a longer dagger from his belt with his left hand and lunged forward towards the beast’s mouth. The creature opened its jaws wide enough to encircle the waist of Germanius and bit down with a terrible crunching sound as the teeth bit into chain armor.

Germanius plunged the dagger into the creature’s head between the two horns and a fountain of blood spewed out of his mouth. A moment later the dragon child plunged his blade into the old warrior’s lower body which hung kicking and squirming in the mouth of the creature.

“Damn you,” screamed Sorus, and suddenly he was there, on top of them, as he rushed past Jon and the darkling elf and towards the dragon child. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the elf raise up his sword to parry Jon’s sweeping blow and heard a strange little tinkle sound, but then he was upon the dragon child who busied itself plunging its blade into Sir Germanius a second time. He lunged forward the point of his own sword aimed at the creatures exposed back but it half turned, perhaps as it heard his cry, and the blade slid along its right shoulder and sliced through a thick leather breastplate but failed to damage the creature.

Sorus’s momentum took him past the dragon child and into the side of the dragon itself where he bounced off the hard scales and took a step backwards. He spun around just in time to see his foe lunge with its sword and the young knight managed to parry the blow with a quick down stroke and then whip his own blade up towards its throat, but the creature was too quick and dodged backwards and out of the way.

Screaming with fury, Sorus launched himself towards the creature and was inside a sword blow that would otherwise have cut him in half. He wrestled with the thing for half a step but then it stumbled over something and went over backwards to the floor with Sorus on top. The dragon child tried to wriggle away but the brewer hacked downwards with a chopping motion, the very bottom of his little sword slicing into the thing’s face and cutting through its lower jaw to expose a complete second set of teeth embedded below its main fangs.

“Ahhh,” he screamed as the thing tried to raise its head and bite at him. He struck again with the bottom edge of his sword and pushed down with all his strength until he felt the blade bite heavily into bone. Blood was everywhere but he raised his sword again and jammed it down at the throat of the creature, slicing through its neck as more blood shot out. He raised his sword yet again and felt a heavy hand restrain him. He spun, without thinking and slashed at the hulking figure behind him but a thick stone sword blocked his attempt and there was a sudden strange little tinkling sound. When Sorus brought the blade back it was light, and when he looked at it he realized it had snapped in half. He gazed up through the haze and saw Jon Gray’s intent gray eyes.

“So … sorry,” he said with a shake of his head. He staggered to his feet, his legs unsteady and his hands trembling. “I got carried away,” he went on and looked at the broken sword in his hand but did not really see it. “I think it’s broken,” he said.

Jon nodded his head. “You’ll have to take Sir Germanius’s,” he replied with a motion of his head behind Sorus. The young knight felt the anger and energy suddenly drain from his body, and he wanted to fall down, but he managed to turn and see the old knight still in the jaws of the white dragon with his small blade buried in the thing’s head. On the ground near him lay his long sword where it dropped when the creature snapped his wrist.

“I don’t know,” said Sorus and looked back at Jon, who nodded his head a single time.

“Of course you do, he wanted you to have it, you know that,” said Jon with a motion of his head towards the sword again.

Sorus shook his head and the strange webs that seemed to engulf it slowly evaporated and returned clarity to his thoughts. “What happened to the darkling?”

Jon pointed with his heavy stone sword toward a figure slumped on the ground ten feet away that made little sounds, “I cracked him pretty good in the ribs and he’s not breathing so great. We won’t torture him for information though, right?”

Sorus nodded his head, “Right,” and went over to pick up the sword. He took it in his hand and the hilt of the heavy blade felt like a bolt of lightning. He stood and looked at the crushed body of the old knight still in the jaws of the dragon and smiled, “Should we leave him like that?” he said. “It’s a pose I think he’d be proud to be remembered by.”

“Can you draw at all?” asked Jon as he came over to stand next to the boy.

Sorus shook his head, “No.”

“I’ve had lessons,” said Jon. “You watch the darkling while I make a sketch. We’ll carry Sir Germanius back up to the surface, bury him, and then take the sketch to Odellius and see if he can do justice with a statue. I think the old fellow might like that, what do you say?”

Sorus nodded his head and smiled, “I think he’d like that just fine, and I think Sir Odelluis might be proud to have that chance.” The young knight then walked over to the slumped form of the Darkling and saw that the creature looked like a curled up baby and the wheezes that escaped his lung were his best attempts to breathe. The creature looked up at him with those strange silver eyes and made sort of a gasp but said nothing else. The skin of the creature seemed to turn a lighter shade of blue as its breath became more and more labored while Jon worked away with a piece of parchment and some charcoal pens he pulled out from some deep recess in his pack.

“I think he’s dying,” said Sorus to Jon and the big gray knight looked up from his work for a moment. “My amulet only works with dragon children and you did a good number on that one over there so it doesn’t really matter anyway. I’m sure they knew something about the Staff of Sakatha but now we’ll never know. We can only hope that we find out something from someone else.”

“You’re not mad I killed the dragon child?” asked Sorus as his eyes turned back to the still corpse and the thick pool of blood all around it. The image reminded him that blood covered his hands and armor and he realized how sticky he suddenly felt.

“Killing your opponent is the objective,” said Jon in a monotone sort of voice and Sorus could tell this was another lesson from the young gray knight’s father.

“I suppose, but we needed that information if we’re going to find the staff,” he replied. “By the Black Horse I’m a sticky mess. We need to find some water.”

“I’m not much for a jaunt around in the darkling lands,” said Jon as he still looked at the climactic battle scene of the dragon and Germanius. “But, you are a mess. That darkling isn’t going anywhere and there’s probably water in this place somewhere. Look around but don’t get too far away.”

“Okay, Jon,” said Sorus with a glance at their downed foe as it struggled to breath. The rattling sound in his throat grew more pronounced with each breath. “Do you think you broke his ribs?”

“I probably punctured his lung,” said Jon. “The flat of the Stone Blade is more dangerous than the edge at times and I sometimes forget that. Now go get cleaned up, this figure drawing is damned difficult and my big meat hocks weren’t meant for fine work like this.”

Sorus looked down at the darkling whose skin now looked almost yellow and who gasped out quick, short breaths, and then he turned to walk past the white dragon and Sir Germanius although he tried not to look too closely at the pair. He walked for maybe fifty paces, still well within sight of Jon and the battle, when he heard a slight rush of a sound that reminded him of the noise a small creek might make and soon enough found a pool where a cataract of water cascaded from a crack in the wall nearby. He quickly stripped off his clothes and took a step into the water only to give off a howl and jump back.

“Are you okay?” shouted Jon’s voice echoing throughout the large cave and bouncing back and forth several times before silence once again fell.

“I’m fine,” said Sorus in a lower tone but now concerned that sound might alert any other creature in the vicinity to their presence. “Water’s cold,” he finished and then clenched his jaw and moved quickly into the freezing water. He could stand the intensity for only a few seconds but managed to duck his head and rub out at least some of the blood. He leapt out, his body gave a shudder, and then tried to quickly wash off his jerkin, but the thick blood seemed to have seeped into every nook and cranny and he knew the job was impossible down here under these circumstances. He did his best in the short time, then slipped the wet clothes back on, and made his way back to Jon as his body shivered badly.

“You look like a drowned rat,” said the young knight. “We should get out of here as quick as possible. I didn’t mean to yell that loud earlier and who knows who heard. I finished drawing,” he said and handed over the art for inspection.

Sorus looked at it as his hands shook from the cold and his teeth chattered, “I can’t tell in this light,” he said, “but it looks okay.”

“Help me pry open the jaws of this thing,” said Jon and took ahold of the creature’s upper jaw.

Sorus grabbed the lower and with a, “One, two, three,” they managed to extricate the old knight from the dragon’s mouth. Puncture wounds ran up and down his body in the shape of the dragon’s jaw. The razor sharp teeth apparently cut through his heavy chain armor like the old man’s knife through soft pine.

“By the Black Horse,” said Sorus and stared in wonder at the damage the creature did to Germanius with a single bite. “The power of this thing,” he said as they kicked over the dead dragon.

“Cut the horns off,” said Jon. “We’ll take them back to town to give to his grandson and any other relatives.”

Sorus nodded his head and reached for his sword and only belatedly realized it was the blade of Germanius and he didn’t want to use it for the first time in this way. He looked around for a long knife but the only one readily available was stuck in the head of the dragon. He tried to yank out the deeply embedded hilt, but the skull of the creature did not yield the blade. “Thing’s stuck in deep,” he grunted and put his back into the effort. Blood and other gore stuck to the hilt of the blade and made it difficult to grip and even with his best effort he failed to pull it free.

“Maybe it’s meant to be there,” said Jon and handed over a small dagger. “This is a Tanelornian knife,” he said, “my father made it himself. Why don’t you keep it for a while?”

Sorus looked at the blade which seemed sturdy and plain with only a floral symbol at the end, the same symbol that adorned Jon’s armor.

“What is that flower?” he asked and pointed to the decoration.

“Mistletoe,” said Jon. “It’s the holy flower of the gray druids and the symbol of Tanelorn. They say it stands for neutrality.”

“I’ve never heard of that plant,” said Sorus as he began to work on the horns of the dragon. “This isn’t a really big one is it?”

Jon looked at the dragon, walked around it, and finally shook his head, “Not really, but big enough. It’s no baby.”

“It knew your name,” said Sorus as he finished the first horn and started on the second.

“You noticed that.”

“I did.”

“I noticed it as well.”

“What do make of it?” said Sorus with a final hack through the last of the thick horn, and the young knight pulled it out.

“I’m not sure,” said Jon. “It means someone knows I’m here which surprises me. This dragon must work for that someone but I don’t think it is going to tell us.”

“No,” laughed Sorus and put the horns in his pack. The exercise warmed him considerably although he still shivered in the damp clothes. “It’s a long walk up those stairs and Sir Germanius isn’t exactly a featherweight,” he said dubiously as he eyed the fallen knight.

“You’re right,” said Jon. “Help me take off his armor and that should lighten the load enough. We don’t have anything to make a bier out of so I’ll throw him over my shoulder. He’s an old man and might not be all that heavy.”

A sudden strange sniff or grunt sound came from somewhere on the far side of the cavern and Jon looked at Sorus. “It’s time to go.” He bent down and picked up the body of Sir Germanius, threw it over his shoulder, armor and all, and began to walk quickly towards the entrance door. Sorus followed, although he looked back several times to the rear of the cavern for the source of the strange sound but never spotted anything.

Soon they began the long trip up the stairs as Jon carried Germanius, and to Sorus, suddenly incredibly tired and his legs sore, it felt like every step was a mountain to climb. The journey seemed endless to the lad and his breath came in labored gasps long before they reached the half-way point. “I … gasp … don’t think I can make it …,” he said to Jon and leaned up against the wall, but one look at the gray knight, who carried dead Germanius over his shoulder, his own face red with exertion, told him not to say it again. “I’m sorry, I’ll make it. Can I take him?”

Jon simply shook his head and began to put one foot in front of the other as they moved more slowly with each step. They took several rests on the journey and it seemed to Sorus that the trip back was at least twice as far as the trip down. After who knows how many hours, they suddenly saw a dim light from up ahead and soon enough found themselves back in the cave where they first ambushed the dragon child and his goblin cohorts. Jon let out a huge groan, dropped Germanius to the ground with a thump, fell to his knees, and then to his hands. Sorus leaned up against the wall where the funny little key still stuck out of the notch. Almost without thinking he reached up, twisted it, took it, and put it in his pocket.

“We could sleep here,” said Sorus and put his head back on the wall and closed his eyes as a sudden tremble indicated the passageway was closed again. “It’s probably safe.”

“The horses,” said Jon slowly as he climbed back to his feet. “Well get to them, ride down, and then camp at the base of the mountain where we built the cairn for Mikus.”

The mention of the mayor’s son was like a splash of cold water on Sorus’s face as he remembered the death of the day before. “It was only yesterday,” he said with a shake of his head, and his mouth hung open in wonderment. “I … it’s hard to believe all this happened in a day.”

Jon nodded and bent down to pick up the old knight but failed in his first attempt to hoist him. “Here,” said Sorus, moving over, “you take him under the arms and I’ll get him by the legs, it’s not that far down the hill to the horses and then it’ll be easy.”

Jon nodded and the two picked up their burden and began to walk slowly down to the horses.

Chapter 10

A fleet of three flat-bottomed ships made their way along the coastline while Usharra Dushallama stood on the deck of the largest and watched the land slowly slide past. The terrible weather that delayed them as the rounded the tip of the Dorian peninsula no longer forced them into inlets, although the cool breeze from the south caused the blue scaled dragon child to shiver and hug his thin hide cloak close about his body.

“Would you like another cloak?” said the red scaled officer as he moved up next to Usharra. The man wore a Dorian style heavy fur cloak wrapped around his sturdy frame.

Usharra shook his head and shivered, “I do not wish to wear any clothes of the Dorians,” he said with a shrug. “There are those who accuse me of dereliction of loyalty to Darag’dal,” he went on and stamped his feet on the ground. “What is the status of the other ships?”

“The Green Dragon is barely seaworthy,” replied the officer with a shake of his head and his tail moved with a similar motion. “The Gray Crocodile is in somewhat better condition but our warriors must work the pumps every hour of the day. Our own ship suffered seriously during that last storm and it slows our progress greatly. The hull cannot take more stress and another storm might well sink us. I reiterate my request to stop at a port and effect repairs. Soon we will pass Delcius, the most western Dorian city. Once we pass the human realm there are only the orc nations of Knog’dal and Adas Jdar neither of which will offer us any ports. If we do not stop here then the entire mission might well end at the bottom of the Southern Sea. Our ships are designed for coastal work not this ocean going travel.”

“I hear your request,” said Usharra and looked at the volcano that rose up out of the morning mist. “We cannot risk word of our mission reaching the freeriders and unless we risk immediate sinking, I cannot accede to requests. I am sorry, my friend.”

The red scaled naval officer stood silently for a moment as the tall volcano came more clearly into his vision, pulled a piece of sealskin parchment from a pouch at his belt, and studied it for a moment. “I think that’s Black Mount,” he said, “although there are so many of them along this coastline I’m not completely certain. We passed the Five Volcanoes yesterday.”

“You’ve never been to these seas before?” said Usharra and looked over the shoulder of the red scaled naval officer and at the chart.

He shook his head no and then handed the chart over to Usharra. “This chart was purchased from Dorian tradesmen but it is several years old at least and probably not completely accurate. If you don’t mind me saying, High Priest …,” he said as his tail once again moved back and forth in an agitated fashion and the red scales around his mouth suddenly turned a slighter deeper shade.

“Go on, captain,” replied Usharra.

“We do not belong in these lands; our people cannot stand the cold, our soldiers cannot march over open expanses, we are suited for the fens and swamps where the shoe wearers do not fare well. If the High Council persists in these expansionary exercises it bodes ill for Darag’dal,” said the captain looking directly at Usharra.

“I am a member of the High Council,” said Usharra his own green scales shaded slightly darker but his tail moved only slightly.

“I am well aware of that,” said the captain. “That is why I bring my concerns to you,” he said as his scales returned to their more normal color but his tail still waved in an agitated fashion. “Your own objections to this current scheme are well known to we in the navy and you have an ally if necessary.”

“What you say is treasonous,” said Usharra looking back towards the shoreline and the tall volcano. “If the High Council finds out, they will execute you.”

“My loyalty is to Darag’dal, minister,” said the captain and held his head high, his tail moved only slowly now, and his skin returned to its normal shade of red. “Not the High Council.”

A small smile appeared on the mouth of Usharra watching the motion of the ship, “Your loyalty is noted, captain,” he said as his own tail moved back and forth at a languid pace. “There are many aboard who do not share your opinion, particularly the general and his staff,” he continued in a quiet tone. “However, the time may well come that I need your support. Until that time though I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.”

“I understand completely, councilor,” said the captain and turned his gaze towards the shore again just as a spectacularly bedecked dragon child moved onto the deck, his uniform covered with bone medals and patches.

“General,” said Usharra. “The captain and I felt the condition of the ships might merit a stop at the next available port.”

The general, a red scaled dragon child with a thick crest on his head and two small horns over his ears, curled his lip in a sneer as his scales turned almost black, “Out of the question, Usharra,” he spat without a moment’s hesitation. “Secrecy is vital to the success of our mission. Our troops are inexperienced in battling on land and our reports indicate the enemy are expert horsemen. We have little hope of standing against such forces on foreign terrain. Surprise is our most vital ally and we cannot compromise it, no matter the risk.”

“I understand, general,” said Usharra and bowed deeply. “I agree completely but felt it necessary to pass along the captain’s concerns. The ships are badly damaged from the storms we encountered rounding the point and the concern is legitimate.”

“If we sink our warriors can swim ashore,” said the general, “and we can regroup and continue the mission through the orc territories if necessary.”

“Without their equipment,” said the captain and turned his head to face the general.

“With Sakatha’s guidance we will overcome any obstacle put in our path,” said the general with a nod to the captain. “Concern yourself with the ships and leave military matters to me.”

“Yes, sir,” said the captain and also bowed but not as deeply as the councilor. “Remember that I am the commander of this fleet as long as we remain at sea.”

“I remember well enough, captain,” said the general who returned the polite bow although his tail moved in an up and down fashion and he exposed his long and sharp teeth. “You would do well to keep in mind that any failure of the navy in this matter will be reported to the high council without regard for previous service.”

“I take the meaning of your words,” said the captain and this time he did not bow at all. “Yet, I remain the captain.”

“And I,” said the general, “remain the commander of this mission.”

“I,” said Usharra, “am the overall commander of this mission and that is a fact.”

“Of course, councilor,” said the general turning to Usharra and nodding his head slightly. “Naturally this is a dangerous mission and if an unfortunate event might deprive you of the ability to command I stand in readiness to continue the mission.”

“That is always good to know, general,” said Usharra. “I am aware that I can count on you to perform to the best of your abilities. It is that simple fact that drives me to continue in my current role.”

The general stood for a long moment and stared at the councilman as his tail moved back and forth in increasingly agitated fashion until he finally nodded his head and walked over to an unoccupied portion of the deck.

“At our current rate of travel how long until we arrive at the disembarkment point?” said Usharra to the captain.

“At least another week and that is if the charts are accurate,” said the captain and shook his head sadly. “The ships are slowed to half their normal pace and traveling at night is particularly hazardous.”

“Affect what repairs you can,” said the councilor, “we will arrive when we arrive and not before.”

Chapter 11

“I’m telling you all,” said Thorius Brokenhand as he stood on a table and looked out over what appeared to be the entire town’s population of Black Dale. “It was just reported to me that there are Lizardmen roaming in Elekargul and that it is expected that we will do something. I’m to muster as many knights as possible and set up a defense of the town.”

In front of the mayor stood a throng of perhaps two hundred people that included the majority of those who lived in town. They gathered outside the temple of the Black Horse because their numbers could not fit into any other building. The crowd was mostly women and young men although all the knights doing their twelve month of civilian duty stood by as well a fairly large number of farmers and herders who lived on the outskirts of the region.

“That doesn’t make any damn sense, Thorius,” said Odellius near the front of the crowd. “For a minor threat like this the men serving their twelve month in patrol do the job. We’re on our civilian twelve month and only a state emergency can change that.”

“I’m telling you, again, that this is a state emergency. I got a message from the First Rider just an hour ago to that effect. The lizards landed some sort of an expeditionary force up the coast from Black Roost and they are heading north towards us. The First Rider wants us to muster and head south and try to intercept them.”

“That will leave the town completely undefended,” said the Thaddeus Redhand as he moved up to stand by Odellius. “The whole point of the system is that towns are defended by knights on civilian duty while the men on patrol take care of outside threats.”

“Are you prepared to defy me on this, to defy the word of the First Rider?” said Thorius and held up a piece of parchment.

“Are you sure it’s from the First Rider, have you examined it closely?” said Thaddeus.

“Thaddeus,” said Thorius as he waved the paper in the air, “I’ve taken every precaution, this is a real threat. There could be thousands of them soon enough if they’ve launched a fleet from Darag’dal. Now, I want every able bodied knight to meet tomorrow morning at the west gate. Bring as much in the way of supplies as you can carry. We might be gone for an extended period. Are there any questions?”

The men in the crowd mumbled to themselves for a moment and it looked like things would end right there before Odellius spoke up again, “Thorius, I know you’re up to something.”

“And…,” said Thorius.

“And I’ll be staying here in town unless you show me that message from the First Rider,” he replied and, as he moved forward, his huge bulk bumped into the table and almost sent the mayor reeling to the ground.

“And if I show it to you and it meets with your approval you’ll follow my orders and not question me in the future,” said Thorius after he regained his balance and stood with his eyes towards the crowd.

Odellius ndded his head once and held up his hand for the paper. When the mayor handed it over Odellius examined it closely for a few moments and then handed it back, “It looks real enough,” said the big knight with a nod to the mayor. “I’ll be there in the morning but this makes no sense. Send a boy out to find the First Rider to confirm it,” he said.

“I give the orders here,” said Thorius as he glared down at Odellius. “You said you would obey my orders if the note proved genuine. Now, are you going to obey or are you going to be an oath breaker?”

The crowd went suddenly silent at this insult and the great knight looked up at the mayor with a look of disdain on his face as his lips curled down and he shook his head, “I said I’ll be there in the morning and I will be,” with that the big knight turned to face the people and nodded his head. “I’m a man of my word as you all know and I’ll go with Thorius Brokenhand.” Then he turned and left the little crowd and headed towards the mason’s shop where he lived.

“My son will be back with Germanius and the Gray boy soon enough,” said Thorius still on the table as he addressed those in the crowd that remained. A large number of the guests began to follow Odellius out of the yard but the majority stayed and listened as the mayor outlined his plan.

Chapter 12

Jon and Sorus woke late the next night after they slept all day and part of the night and then immediately turned in again for a few more hours of fitful rest until the morning sun alerted them to the new day. Sorus stood up and stretched mightily as his gaze fell on the twin rock piles that housed both Sir Germanius and Mikus and then he yawned again. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept so long before,” he said to Jon who lay on the ground and blinked his half-open eyes lazily. “We should get back into town. If we ride hard we might make it before nightfall.”

“No sense in rushing,” said Jon, as he also looked at the piles of rocks. “It’s not good news we bring.”

“More reason to get there sooner,” said Sorus. “Thorius needs to know his son died, and the town should know about Germanius and that dragon. If we delay, it might look like we didn’t want to come back as quickly as possible.”

“That’s true,” said Jon, stifled another long yawn and rolled over onto his side.

“C’mon Jon,” said Sorus and gave the sleepy giant a swift kick. “I’ll start packing up the camp and you find the horses. Remember, we turned them loose yesterday so they could find water and good grass after being hobbled for so long.”

“Mmm,” said Jon from under this blanket. “I remember.”

Sorus kicked him again, this time a bit harder, “Jon, I’m serious. We need to get back to town as soon as possible. I’ve been thinking about it, the mayor doesn’t like you to begin with and now his son is dead. We’re going to need to explain things.”

“All right, all right,” said Jon as he rolled over and sat up. “We’ve got the dragon horns to prove it and my sketch. No one could believe I drew that thing from my head. The mayor isn’t going to like me no matter what but this will prove I’m here for a reason and maybe I’ll finally get to talk with the First Rider. Once that happens everything will come around.”

“I hope you’re right, Jon,” said Sorus and busied himself with cleanup operations on the pots and pans accumulated from the huge meal the two made for themselves when they got to the base of the Mountains of the Orc. He remembered how they ate in silence and avoided the corpse of Sir Germanius laid nearby. It took them almost an hour to fill their bellies, but then they managed to drag themselves over to the rocks and finish the job with a second cairn. Finally, exhausted and weary, they fell into the sleep of the dead. Now, under the light of day things seemed slightly different. Sorus looked at Jon again and wondered what reception the town might give them. With Mikus and Germanius dead, they were the only survivors and maybe things wouldn’t go so well back in town. Sorus decided not to tell Jon any more of his misgivings as the young knight seemed so confident.

They rode hard all day but because of their late start had to camp again. They fixed a quick dinner and went back to sleep without a word to one another. The heavy weight of the sword at Sorus’s side didn’t seem as strange as it did yesterday and he guessed that pretty soon he wouldn’t notice it all. The next morning they rose and went through their morning routine without comment and soon the open road stretched out in front of them again. Within a couple of hours they spotted smoke from the chimneys of Black Dale and not long after that they rode into town.

“It seems sort of quiet,” said Sorus to Jon as they approached the small village. “Unless I’ve lost track of days and this is a holiday or something,” he went on as his eyes darted back and forth and he noted the lack of activity at the town gate. “Where is everyone?”

Jon shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, maybe there’s a festival or something out of town?”

“I don’t think so,” said Sorus as they spotted a woman across the open area between the gate and them. “Hey, Strenia! Strenia it’s me, Sorus Brew … Sorus.”

The young woman looked up and her eyes widened at his approach. “Sorus, you’re finally back, thank the White Mare. Where is Sir Germanius? We need him.”

“Why,” asked Sorus dismounting from his horse and looking back at their third and fourth horses, Germanius’s and Mikus’s neither of which had a rider. “What’s going on, where is everyone?” he said waving his arms to indicate the entire town.

“That’s his horse isn’t it?” said the woman suddenly, and she took a step back as her eyes widened again, not in surprise, but this time in shock. “And that’s Thorius’s that he loaned to Mikus. Are they both …?” said the girl and her voice suddenly trembled.

Sorus nodded his head but did not elaborate except to say, “I can tell the whole story to the town tonight at a meeting, but what is going on around here? Where is everyone?”

“They’re all gone,” said the tall woman looking at the ground. “All except the mayor and a few of his friends. Everyone else went looking for the reptile men.”

Sorus shook his head and said, “What, wait, I don’t understand. What reptile men? I’ve been gone four days maybe five. What’s happened here?”

Strenia looked at Sorus and then at Jon, who also dismounted and led his horse over, and a tear almost seemed to appear in her blue eyes before she rallied, “You need to go see the mayor right away,” she said to both of the boys. “There’s been an invasion and the men are off trying to see to it.”

“An invasion!” shouted Sorus, “That’s crazy. How could the reptile men invade us, Darag’dal is a thousand miles to the north of here.”

“I don’t know,” said Strenia as she shook her head and looked at the ground. “But the First Rider sent out a notice and all the men went off looking for the invaders.”

“How long ago was this?” interrupted Jon as he moved up next to the girl and put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok, Sorus is a knight now, Sir Germanius knighted him. You can tell us and we’ll set things right.”

The girl looked up at the towering young gray knight and smiled, “Titia says you’re really nice,” she said  with a bob of her head and a twirl of her hair. “Do you really think you can help us?”

“Of course we can,” said Jon with a broad smile as he slapped the sword at his side. “Now, tell us what happened?”

Strenia looked around the area and then lowered her voice, “It’s the mayor. He sent all the men out looking for the invaders and now there’s no one guarding the town. Everyone thinks the mayor forged the First Riders signature on the orders but no one can prove it. Odellius looked at the orders and I guess they seemed okay. Maybe there really is an invasion?”

“If there really was an invasion,” said Sorus, “the knights of Elekargul would see to it. We didn’t see anyone or anything like that near the Mountain of the Orc but I suppose it’s possible. Jon, come on, we’ve got to go see the mayor right away,” he finished and turned to the gray knight and grabbed him by the arm.

“I don’t like this,” said Jon. “There’s something else going on. This happened exactly how long ago Strenia?” he asked and turned back to the girl.

“Well,” she said, her eyes moving back and forth in their sockets for a moment. “The mayor made the announcement outside the church not last night but the night before. Then everyone gathered up and left yesterday morning.”

“We killed the dragon right about then, maybe before, maybe after,” said Sorus. “Do you think that thing’s master is behind this? How could they act so fast?”

“I don’t know,” said Jon. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense unless it’s just coincidence, but I don’t think that it is. With no men in town and the creatures in the mountain up in arms this place is vulnerable. They might invade anytime starting tonight. An army could march up those stairs and be here in forty-eight hours or even less.”

“We need to talk to the mayor, Jon,” said Sorus and once again tugged on the arm of the tall young man. “Maybe the note was a forgery, not from the mayor but from those creatures who want the staff?”

“You could be right,” said Jon. “Thank you for your help, Strenia,” he said to the woman. “Don’t you worry about anything. Now that Sorus and I are here, we’ll get this mess straightened out.”

“Did Sir Germanius really knight you,” she said and gazed up at Sorus with raised eyebrows. “Have you taken a name yet?”

“Yes, he really knighted me, and no I haven’t decided on a name yet. I think I’ll wait until all this clears up. I’m not even sure the mayor will approve it. His son, Mikus,” said Sorus suddenly as his eyes narrowed and his gaze turned to the ground, “Mikus was killed and Jon is the only witness to the knighting and he’s not a citizen of Elekargul.”

“Oh,” said Strenia. “But, the mayor has to approve you, otherwise he’s calling you a liar and no one thinks that,” she went on touching him on the shoulder and looking deeply into his eyes. “Everyone in town knows you aren’t that, even if no one wanted you to be their squire.”

“Thank you, Strenia,” he said. “Even Shia?”

The young woman laughed, “I think even her, but you need to talk to the mayor right away. He’s in his office with the only other knights that stayed in town, Thadeus Cormeus Brokenshield, Markus Brokenhand, and Decilus Brokenshield.”

“Thadeus Brokenshield?” said Sorus with a shake of his head and a look of puzzlement across his face. “He’s no knight, he’s a Brokenshield unless he performed some act of heroism in the time I’ve been gone. I don’t think that’s possible unless a beer keg needed saving from overflow.”

Strenia laughed again and shook her own head, “Mayor Thorius said all able bodied men, including Brokenshields, were to assume duties as knights. Thadeus, Decilus, and Markus jumped over all the others in town and are the lieutenants to the mayor.”

“Brokenshields are mostly that because their wives died in childbirth,” said Jon, “Those two should be ok, right?”

“Most of the time that’s the reason but sometimes it’s cowardice or dishonorable behavior. Both of those two are in that group,” said Sorus “This way,” he continued and walked away from the town gate.

“Strenia,” said Jon. “Go get someone from the stables to take care of the horses while Sorus and I see to the mayor,” he said with a wink at the woman.

She nodded her head, “Shall I take them to the gates and hitch them?”

“Can you handle all four?” asked Jon and turned his head to the side to look at the steeds.

“We’re a horse people,” she replied, “it’s not only the knights that need to handle them and girls get trained as well. I’ll take care of them, don’t you worry. Just see what you can find out from the mayor and his guards.”

“Come on, Jon,” said Sorus already a dozen strides ahead. “Stop flirting with every pretty girl that comes across your path and get to work!”

A few minutes later they stood outside the building that housed the mayor. On the streets they saw only women and young boys, and they gave the two knights strange glances as they rushed past.

“Mayor Thorius,” shouted Sorus as they approached the building. “Mayor Thorius, it’s Sorus and Jon Gray with important news.”

If anyone in the building heard the cries no indication came forth immediately, and the two young boys continued forward until they reached the front door of the building. Normally the way stood open to visitors during daylight hours but not this time. Sorus walked straight up to it and tried to push it open and met immediate resistance. “By the Black Horse, why is this locked?” he asked and then pounded on it with his open hand. “Mayor Thorius, Mayor Thorius. There is important news from the Mountain of the Orc. We bring word of danger.”

Again only silence greeted the outburst and the two waited for another long moment. “What should we do?” said Sorus and turned to Jon

The big gray clad knight shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure we can do anything about the mayor. We should either try to catch up with the rest of the warriors and Odellius or try to find the First Rider and report directly to him,” said Jon and added his own considerable weight of fist to the pounding on the door. “I don’t even know if coming straight here was helpful at all.”

Suddenly a low voice from behind them spoke and they spun around, “Do you think the First Rider is in charge of Black Dale, or perhaps you think it is Odellius the mason?” it said. It belonged to a middle aged knight with a badly shaved face, a disheveled jerkin, and a scar along his cheek.

“Oh, it’s you, Thadeus,” said Sorus and did not attempt to conceal a sneer. “I hear you’ve been restored from the ranks of the Brokenshields?”

“In order to be a Brokenshield you must be a knight of Elarkgul once, brewer boy,” said the man, his words slow and even. “Now that I’m restored you must treat me with more respect,” he continued, “call me Sir Thadeus or I’ll have you whipped.”

“Sir Germanius knighted me,” said Sorus and stood up tall, although he had to brace himself against the alcohol fueled breath, the stink of decay, and several black rotted teeth.

“Oh he did now,” said Thadeus with a little smirk. “Where is that old fool anyway? I doubt he’ll remember doing it and I wouldn’t be surprised if you just made the whole thing up.”

Sorus’s eyes opened wide and then narrowed into a gaze that burned, “Sir Thadeus, we are knights of Elakargul together and we work for the same goals, the nation, the orders of the First Rider, and the Black Horse. We might have our differences but that doesn’t mean we must be enemies.”

“I remain unconvinced you are a Knight of Elekargul,” said the man, “and don’t expect to use the gray fraud here to back up your claim. The mayor thinks he might be part of the invasion plan.”

“What do you mean?” started Sorus and put his hand to his scabbard, but Jon put his own hand on top of the boy’s to prevent any rash action.

“And a coward as well,” said Thadeus as he noted that Jon did not draw his own blade. “You let me insult your honor without showing outrage? Only a false knight would do such a thing.”

“He’s not a coward!” screamed Sorus and rushed forward to shove Thadeus in the chest with his forefinger, but the older knight saw it coming, twisted aside and caught the oncoming finger in his hand and twisted it hard. Sorus yelped in pain and suddenly found himself on his knees as he looked up at the former Brokenshield. “Let me go!”

“Do you promise to behave,” said Thadeus a wicked smile on his face.

“Go to the darkling land and eat purple mushrooms,” said Sorus, and then yelped again as the older knight twisted his finger back to the point of breaking.

“Let him go,” said Jon his large frame suddenly looming over the former Brokenshield. Thadeus stood just a shade short of six feet tall with a pronounced paunch but his arms were still strong. He looked up at Jon and a sneer started to form on his face, but the expression of the young gray knight stopped the word’s utterance. Jon’s eyes burned with intensity and the muscles in his forearm were massive and bulged beneath the chain jerkin as they flexed ominously. “Let … him … go,” said Jon and his huge hand descended and clapped onto Thadeus’s shoulder with an audible thump.

“You can’t threaten me,” started the knight but as Jon’s hand began to squeeze harder Thadeus tried to pull away, “ow, hey,” and then a strange look came across his face, first anger, then shock, and finally, as the pressure became greater still, a look of stark fear, and the knight released Sorus’s thumb. Jon immediately let go of the shoulder and Thadeus took two steps back as his hand came to the imposed upon limb and rubbed it. He looked up at Jon and his expression of fear slowly retreated until the snarl returned. “You can bet I’ll get revenge for that,” said Thadeus. “I’ll carve you up. The bigger they are ….” He started to threaten but Jon simply turned his back on the man, walked over to the door and, completely in stride, lifted his boot, and lashed forward with a kick.

The sound of splintered wood and ripped metal hinges crashed through the air, followed by a thump as what remained of the door fell inside the entranceway. “Mayor Thorius, I am Sir Jon Gray, ambassador of Volorius the Gray Lord of Tanelorn, I have immediate business with you regarding the future relations of our states. You can come out and talk to me or I’ll come in and drag you out, I leave the decision to you.”

A moment later Mayor Thorius walked down the hallway towards the broken door, an expression of amusement on his face as he looked at the destroyed entrance way, the wood splintered from where the door hinged and then to Jon and Sorus who stood at the entrance side by side. “All you had to do was knock,” he said with a smile. “Events overtook us swiftly here in Black Dale while you and my son were out gallivanting around. I’m sorry if don’t have time to come running every time you whistle at me.”

“There is a goblin force up in the hills that might well attack Black Dale at any time,” said Jon.

“First things, first,” said the mayor looking around. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said and spread his hands wide, “but I’d like to have the report from my son. He is a squire of Elekargul and you are merely a visiting … dignitary … and the boy is simply a journeyman brewer.”

“I’m a knight …,” started Sorus but then remembered the fate of Mikus and his tone changed from anger to quiet calm. “I’m sorry mayor, Mikus died in the Mountain of the Orc, we buried him in the foothills near the trail leading up.”

The mayor’s smug expression suddenly changed as his eyes narrowed and hardened, “He died?”

“We were ambushed by goblins just as we went onto the mountain,” said Sorus. “One of them hit him in the head with a sling bullet. I’m sorry.”

“I trusted you with my only son,” said the mayor and turned to Jon Gray his eyes filled with hate and his lips curled in anger. “What did you do, kill him yourself so that he wouldn’t report back on your plot to destroy Elekargul?”

Jon simply looked down on the man with his jaw stuck forward and his gaze steady and certain. “I’m here to help. You can take it or not.”

“An unlikely offer,” said Thorius and pushed past Jon and Sorus. “Thadeus, arrest both of these boys on suspicion of murder.” He looked around the small open courtyard for a moment, “I suppose you killed Sir Germanius as well,” he said with a shake of the head. “I can see now you came for the express purpose of distracting us while your reptile allies prepared for invasion.”

“This is madness,” said Jon turning to Sorus. “Come on, let’s go somewhere where real men need our help.”

“You’re under arrest Jon Gray, if that is your name,” said Thadeus, and another man, this one also reeking of alcohol but standing taller and broader than Thadeus with orc blood in his veins, suddenly appeared from where the mayor had recently emerged.

“Jon, he’s the mayor, he’s the extension of the law of the First Rider,” said Sorus. “If he says we’re arrested then there is nowhere to go. They will post arrest notices for us everywhere in Elekargul, we’ll be fugitives if we run.”

“Listen to the brewer boy,” said Mayor Thorius with a smile. “If you are innocent, as you proclaim, then a jury will find as such and you can go then.”

Jon looked at Sorus and then at the two hired thugs and finally to the mayor himself, “Sorus might be subject to your laws, but I am not. I answer to no one except the Gray Lord and if you try to arrest me I’ll pummel the men you send.”

The taller, broader orc blooded knight smiled and cracked his fingers. He stood well over six feet with shoulders near as wide as Jon’s and the thick body of a man in the prime of life. “I’d like to see that,” he said and nodded his head. “We haven’t met yet, Jon Gray,” he said. “I’m Decilus Valerus Brokenshield. I served with the First Rider and rode down the champion of Adas Jdar after we broke their invasion. He was taller than you and fully a man but my lance cut him down quick enough. Do not think you frighten me.”

Jon stared the man in the eyes for a long moment and neither showed any signs of retreat. “Sorus, you can stay in town, but the trial is rigged, you’ll be found guilty of associating with me, and I’ll be found guilty of planning an invasion or some such nonsense. We have to find the men of Black Dale or the First Rider to prevent something terrible from happening,” he said and turned his gaze to Sorus who stood with his mouth agape. “Now, Sorus, take a knightly name because you know that Sir Germanius granted it to you. Take your name and come with me or stay here and die.”

“Don’t listen to him, son,” said Mayor Thorius sidling up to the boy and putting his hand on his shoulder. “He’s a spy for the reptile men and hopes to clear the way for their invasion. He tricked you, but we won’t hold that against you in a trial. He fooled everyone in town except me and my son. I don’t think you killed Mikus, I’m sure it looked like an ambush but how did they know you were coming, how did Jon escape without any wounds, ask yourself that Sorus. You won’t be blamed; testify against him and I guarantee your safety and the safety of your family.”

Sorus stood for a long moment as his eye darted back and forth between Jon and the mayor and then to the hulking Decilus and his sidekick Thadeus. His hand clenched and unclenched at his side and then he felt the weight of Sir Germanius’s sword on his side, he remembered Jon carrying the old knight up all those stairs and how they buried him together, he remembered how the dragon creature knew Jon’s name. He turned to the mayor, “My name is Sorus Nightwalk because I slew my enemies underground in the darkling realm. I do honor to Agrium Nightwalk who led the midnight attack on the orc fortress we now call Agrium’s Keep. I pledge to honor his memory and hold his name to the highest standards of Elekargul. Today I go with my friend Jon Gray and any man who tries to stop me will feel my wrath!”

“Fool,” spat Thorius and looked to Decilus, “Kill them both.”

Decilus smiled and drew his sword, a long blade of black iron with strange yellow sigils carved up and down its side. Next to him Thadeus looked back and forth between the mayor and Jon Gray and appeared almost ready to run but then found his courage and drew his own blade, a slim steel weapon curved towards the end in the style of the humans of Doria. “I’ll take the boy,” he said and moved to face Sorus.

A number of passersby heard the exchange of words and saw the swords glint in the sunlight. Some of them stayed to watch the battle while others ran off to spread the news.

“This doesn’t have to be this …,” started Sorus, but Thadeus wasted no time and lunged at the boy before he even pulled out his weapon. Sorus jumped aside as the blade scraped over his left ribs and a sharp sensation of pain quickly followed. He took two quick steps backwards, pulled out his sword, and felt a momentary slickness as his hand brushed his left side.

Jon and Decilus circled one another for a moment before the orc blooded knight raised his sword and brought it around with a long low sweep designed to take advantage of Jon’s exposed legs. The gray knight didn’t even bother to draw his own sword but simply raised his boot and brought it crashing down on the wrist of his opponent which shattered like an old tree limb with too much ice in a heavy windstorm.

Decilus screamed in pain and spun to the ground, pinned there by the weight of Jon’s foot as the gray knight reached forward with his right hand and put it fully around the neck of his foe. Jon’s wrist flexed and Decilus’s neck pressed backwards to an unnatural angle. The Brokenshield punched at Jon’s face with his other hand, connected with a solid blow, but the boy ignored it completely and continued to push the neck backwards. A second snap followed a moment later and then the big warrior lay glassy eyed on the ground, his eyes bulging hideously and his neck muscles frozen in clenched rigor.

Jon turned to the mayor and saw that the man had a knife in his hand and circled behind Sorus, “Don’t do it,” said Jon his voice low but filled with menace. “Let them finish it.”

Mayor Thorius looked up at the huge boy and then his eyes came to rest on the dead Decilus and his courage fled. He tossed the knife at Jon but the blade spun badly and only the hilt struck him in the midsection. The mayor then fled back into the building as he shouted, “murderers, murderers, save me!”

The crowd didn’t seem inclined to heed his call and stood silently as Sorus and Thadeus circled one another; their blades leapt out to strike now and again but neither man gained any advantage. “You fight well for a brewer,” spat Thadeus to Sorus and flicked his blade towards the boy’s head but came up well short as Sorus thrust forward with his own blade. Sorus tried to remember the things he watched when the other squires worked with their masters but nothing seemed to be real in this fight as the steel blade of his foe flicked out and back. Whenever he circled to his left there was a strange pain in his side that he couldn’t quite pinpoint but that bothered him nonetheless.

He feinted at Thadeus but the experienced knight simply parried and moved again to his right and forced the painful turn. “You’ll bleed out soon enough,” said the newly restored Brokenshield and moved away from Sorus with a broad smile on his face. At that moment his path took him across the corpse of his ally and his foot hit it with a thump. Thadeus stumbled and his eyes opened in horror as he saw the frozen death mask of his friend.

“Now, strike,” whispered Jon to himself but so quietly that only he heard it.

Sorus noted the distraction but did not attack and instead circled to gain a better position and Thadeus snarled, “You bastard,” and regained his balance as quickly as he lost it. “I’ll kill you,” he said and moved forward, his sword a blur of motion. Sorus managed to block the first few blows but was driven quickly backwards and suddenly felt a stinging on the side of his face and then another on his shield arm.

“Now you die!” shrieked Thadeus lunging towards the former brewer with the tip of blade aimed directly at the center of Sorus’ chest.

Sorus suddenly remembered how Jon had stepped forward when the dragon child attacked him and did the same while also turning his body slightly sideways; this caused the thrust to slide inches past him. His own blade, the heavy sword of Sir Germanius, came down on the area between Thadeus’s shoulder and neck and bit ten inches into the flesh.

Thadeus’s momentum took him into Sorus and the two collided with a thud that sent them both backward a step. Thadeus snarled, and then the shower of blood that coated the left side of his face and body seemed to catch his attention as he reached up and touched the wound. The expression on his face went from anger to puzzlement, and then his legs collapsed out from under him, the blood gushing from the deep wound. He stayed on his knees for a second, his gaze still fixed at Sorus as his mouth opened and closed silently. Finally he managed to gasp, “A brewer boy?” and fell face first to the ground.

“Well fought, Sorus Nightwalk,” said Jon as he came up behind Sorus. “You should have taken him when he stumbled, but you hesitated.”

“I know,” said Sorus with a look down at his fallen foe. The blood geyser slowly abated although the pool of reddish brown ichor continued to grow. “I’ll need lessons.”

Jon nodded his head, “You did well though. The only badly fought duel is the one you lose. Now, I suspect the people in town will support us against the mayor, but I think it best if we don’t put them in that position. Shall we try to find the First Rider or look for Sir Odellius and the other townsmen?”

“I … I don’t know,” said Sorus. “Let’s just get the horses and get out of here for now. Is that all right Jon?”

The big gray knight nodded his head, “That sounds just about perfect to me, Sir Sorus, after you?” he said with a motion of his hand towards the stables. “They probably haven’t even finished brushing down the horses yet.”

Sorus started to lead the way but then looked back at the two bodies in the dirt, two men who, moments before, stood vibrant and alive, and thanks to a stupid disagreement now lay dead on the ground. Sorus knew that Thadeus had a daughter and maybe a son as well from a marriage that ended sometime in the past, and he now remembered the party just two months ago at the Smooth Strider where Decilus celebrated the birth of his first son. He looked at the two lifeless bodies and felt not just an overwhelming sadness at their death, for dying happened to everyone, but that he caused the death and not indirectly at that. His hand found Sir Germanius’s sword sheathed at his side and he bit his upper lip as he stared at the bodies for a long moment.

Jon watched the boy for a moment and remembered a similar moment in his own life, when he fought against the orcs of the Five Nations and left behind him a trail of corpses. His father stood next to him that day and told him someday he’d have to encourage young knights in the same position. “I knew someday I’d be the one leading others, telling them how to behave, I just didn’t think so soon,” he thought to himself and turned to Sorus. He let the boy look at the bodies for a moment longer and then stepped up behind him and spoke, “They’re dead and only dark magic can bring them back. You killed Thadeus because that is the way the world spun today. Tomorrow someone might stand over your corpse and wonder why. I don’t think there are any answers,” he went on and put his hand on Sorus’s shoulder. “My father says the only reason for anything is that which we give it. There is no grand scheme, no power to guider our destiny, we make our own way in the world, and if that’s not enough then too bad.”

Sorus looked up from the bodies. “Your father is a hard man,” he said to his friend. “I’d like to think there is meaning behind all of this whether it be the Black Horse, the White Mare, or some other god of the orcs or the dragon children, or the Dorians, maybe. I don’t know.”

“Give it meaning,” said Jon. “That’s what my father always says. Nothing happens for a reason but we go on living anyway.” The young man suddenly got a faraway look in his eyes and stood up straight:

“Because my life is my own to lead
Because my destiny is my own to forge
No one else can guide my hand
No one else can govern my mind”

“What’s that,” said Sorus as Jon began to walk off towards the stables.

“It’s part of the gray oath,” said Jon. “When a gray knight invites you to join the order you stand in front of the gray wall, plant a flag of your old allegiance on it, and say the oath.”

“Oh,” said Sorus. “So if I were to come back with you to Tanelorn and become a  gray knight I’d have to give up my loyalty to Elekargul?”

Jon looked at him as they walked and nodded his head, “That’s right, Sir Sorus. When you become a gray knight you foreswear all other oaths and promise to lead your own life.”

“But isn’t that swearing an oath to the Gray Lord then?” said Sorus as they approached the stables. Their horses still stood out front as a young groomsman carefully brushed them down.

“No,” said Jon. “That oath is really to you, not the Gray Lord, not Tanelorn. You swear to be true to yourself no matter what. It’s a surprisingly difficult oath to say and to keep.”

“I suppose your father is the one who made it up?” said Sorus with a smile. “Ho there, Junius,” he shouted to the boy who brushed down the horses. “Saddle up mine and Sir Jon’s again, we’re heading back out.”

“Hey Sorus,” started the dark haired boy with a smile but then caught himself, “I mean Sir Sorus.”

“Word’s getting around then, is it?” he said with a smile and walked over to his friend. “There was trouble at the mayor’s,” he said. “You’re probably going to hear some bad things about me and about Jon but I’m on your side in all this. Jon and I are going to get to the bottom of this trouble, don’t you worry.”

“I was mostly worried that Sir Arturious was going to tan my backside for not brushing down the horses fast enough, so two less is a good thing!” said Junius and broke into a large smile. “I can’t wait until his twelve month is done, the First Rider has to put someone better in charge next time.”

“It’s good to worry about the things that affect you most,” said Jon as he meandered over and patted his trotter on the flank. “A good tanning of the backside is of more immediate importance than an invading reptile army. Let that be a lesson to you, Sir Sorus.”

Sorus nodded his head, “I see your point,” and then he stood and watched as the boy saddled up both of the horses.

“We keep a supply of grain and rations in saddle bags for emergencies,” said Junius looking at Sorus. “In case someone doesn’t have time to pack. I can get a couple if you like?”

“That’s a very good idea, Junius,” said the young knight and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go grab that while Jon and I finish prepping the horses?”

The boy nodded his head and ran off into the stable.

“I should have thought of that,” said Sorus to no one in particular. “I’m still getting the hang of being a knight, and now I’ve got to learn how to be a fugitive!”

Chapter 13

The two riders moved slowly as their mounts walked towards the wide river that flowed in front of them. When they reached it Jon Gray dismounted, tied back the reins, and let the horse trot over to the water which it began to gulp down eagerly. Sorus sat on the back of his mount for a while longer and looked to his left and right before he also dismounted and allowed his own steed to drink.

“We’ve reached the point of decision,” said Jon as Sorus moved over to him. The two young men stood on a grassy knoll that looked out across the Frosty Run and towards the interior of the lands of Elekargul. “Tell me again what lies in which direction,” he went on, his gaze still towards the horizon.

“If we follow the Frosty downstream we’ll eventually get to Black Roost, the capital of Elekargul. It’s along the Southern Sea at the head of the Bay of Lights. I don’t think the First Rider will be there though. He’s almost always on patrol. If what they said in town is true, we’re more likely to find the men of Black Dale in that direction. The attacking reptile men are supposedly coming from the south.”

“I know the Mountains of the Orc are to our northeast,” said Jon and looked in that direction, “but I don’t think that’s our destination. What about that way,” he said and pointed straight across the river to a series of low hills.

“That’s mostly just farmland,” said Sorus with a shrug of his shoulders and a glance at Jon. “If you go far enough you get to a hilly region where the Dorian knights have a temple.”

“There are Dorian knights in Elekargul?” asked Jon with a look at the boy, his eyebrows raised, and his head tilted slightly to the side.

“That’s what they say,” said Sorus. “Don’t forget that I’ve never been much out of Black Dale. Anything I tell you is just what I’ve heard other people say.”

“Why is there a Dorian temple in the middle of Elekargul?” said Jon as he looked in that direction.

“I don’t know,” said Sorus with a shrug. “I think it’s called the Temple of Fear. I’ve seen traveling Dorian knights come through Black Dale a few times over the years but I’ve never really talked with them. You went through Doria to get here so you probably know more than me about it.”

“I didn’t spend much time in one place,” said Jon and now looked back over his shoulder and towards the town of Black Dale from whence they came. “The biggest order of knights is Mixcowatel or something like that. I can’t pronounce most of the names. They like to use a spear; that is their holiest weapon I think.”

“That sounds right,” said Sorus as he closed one eye and pursed his lips. “There was something about a spear; I remember that … I can’t remember. I don’t think it’s important anyway. Now, if we get past those hills then we arrive at the heartlands of Elekargul. Most of our major cities are there on the Old Water Lake: Black Home, Black Helm, Black Sword.”

“You people like naming things by color I can see,” said Jon.

“Don’t look at me,” said Sorus. “I’m just telling you what you asked. Now, if we head north then we get to Hollow Wood and west of there is the Wood of Waves. The First Rider is usually up that way patrolling because the insect men are so aggressive. He could be close to us or even all the way to the east on the border with Relm.”

“You don’t have a guess?”

Sorus shook his head, “There’s no telling, Jon. “The First Rider is on patrol for almost his entire twelve month. The only time he’s not is the first week when he makes all the civilian assignments for the knights coming off their year of military service.”

“So, there’s a new First Rider every year?” said Jon, his gaze still looking deep into the heart of Elekargul.

“That’s right,” said Sorus with a nod of his head. “Every year on the Day of the Black Horse the knights on civilian duty gather in the plains and anyone who wants sets out that morning to where the wild stallions roam. The knight who returns with the finest mount is the First Rider for the next season.”

“Who makes the decision on the finest mount?” said Jon. “Anything subjective like that might end up in a fist fight is how I find those things finish often enough.”

“The First Rider from the previous season makes that decision,” said Sorus. “Then the new First Rider makes all the civilian assignments for the coming year and also sets up the groups for the military patrols. Maybe someday I’ll get to try for First Rider.”

“Didn’t you say that anyone can make the attempt,” said Jon turning to the boy. “Why couldn’t you just try every year?”

“Oh no,” said Sorus, his eyes wide and with a firm shake of his head. “Only the best knights try. If you tried when you weren’t one of the top knights … that’s bad. Everyone will laugh at you. Sometimes only two or three knights make the attempt but usually about a dozen go for it. I would never try for that until I get much more experienced.”

Jon nodded, “I can see why my father wants to be allied with Elekargul,” he said with a smile. “All right, so one direction is as good as any another? I’d like to see this Hollow Wood and the insect men.”

“North then,” said Sorus and looked to his right and upstream. “We’ll head up the Frosty Run and look for somewhere to ford. We can do some fishing and hunting and there will be plenty of farmers along the way. I won’t be surprised if we run into a patrol within a day or two. There is usually some activity along the eastern edge of the Mountains of the Orc.”

Jon walked over to the river, gave a whistle, and his horse lifted its head and came over at a trot. Sorus watched with a wry smile and tried the same whistle but his steed, borrowed from the stables just a few days before, did not react in the same way. “How long did it take you to train him?” said Sorus as he grabbed the reigns of his own horse.

“He’s Tarlton bred,” said Jon. “The finest horses in the world, the man who sold him taught me the whistle. Naturally, I didn’t get any of the palace stock but he’s a beautiful animal for long journeys and not as slow as he looks.”

“I’ve heard of Tarlton,” said Sorus, “it’s the desert city, right?”

“It’s an amazing place. Can you imagine a huge city on the edge of the desert and not a river in site? They get all their water from the oceans; their priests worship a sun god named Ras and they wade out into water every day with these huge containers and pray for the water to be drinkable. Then, everyone in the entire city comes and fills their personal and family containers from those. It’s a sight to see, let me tell you.”

“What if someday the water stayed salty?” asked Sorus a look of almost horror on his face.

“Everyone would die I guess,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders. “The city is from the Old Empire though and was re-founded almost 500 years ago according to what I was told. I guess if something like that were going to happen it probably already would have. It seems kind of crazy to me too, but it works for them. I saw a few nomads in town while I was there as well. Dark-skinned men with hard eyes and hard bodies. They say that is where they breed the best horses, out in The Sands where the nomads live. I don’t know, I only spent a couple of days there picking up a horse and then my ship headed south for Doria.”

The two mounted their horses and began the journey north up the river in the same direction they went just a few days before with Sir Germanius and Mikus. “It was only, what, five days ago we took this same route,” said Sorus, looking at Jon with a frown on his face and puttting his right hand on his chest above his heart. “It seems like a long time ago but sometimes it feels like it didn’t happen at all,” he continued with a look at the ground as the horses moved slowly forward. “I know what your father says, but those things are in my heart now.”

Jon didn’t say anything as they continued the journey north. About two hours later they came to a small sandy area where they crossed the river and headed northeast towards the center of Elekargul. “How many days until we get to Hollow Wood?” asked Jon, the first words spoken in some time.

Sorus shrugged, “I don’t know Jon; I’ve only been outside of Black Dale a few times in my life. I guess maybe a week? We should run across patrols sometime soon though, or at least a small farm where we can ask someone about the last time riders went through.” Even as the young knight said these words they came up over a small rise and spotted a group of houses in a small valley. “There you go,” said Sorus with a smile on his face. “It’s probably someone I know; the farmers come into town fairly frequently to sell their produce.”

The two spurred their horses towards the group of homes and as they approached made out more of the details of the place. A small grove of some sort of crop trees sat on the left side of the main house and beyond that a field with green plants gathered up the midday sunshine. The largest building turned out to be a sturdy wooden barn painted light yellow where an old horse nipped at the grass, and the last building was a large shed or possibly a small guest house. As they approached the buildings a young boy of nine or ten dashed out from the barn and waved a small wooden sword at them. He was immediately followed by an older boy who started to yell something but then spotted Jon and Sorus and stopped with his mouth open for a long moment. The smaller boy looked back and saw the older’s expression and quickly turned to face them. A broad smile came across his face and he waved at them and gave out a high pitched yell, “Hello!”

“Hey there,” shouted Jon back as he rode over to the boy, reached down with one massive paw, hauled him up the horse, and sat him down in the front. “What’s your name?”

“You talk funny,” said the boy as he craned his head around to see Jon.

Jon nodded his, “I’m not from around here, my name is Jon Gray, what’s yours?”

“That’s a funny name,” said the boy his face screwed up in a puzzled expression. “Aren’t you a knight?”

“I’m not from around here,” replied Jon and put his hand on top of the boy’s head and turned it around to face the front as they approached the house. “What’s your name?”

The boy squirmed around again to face Jon and looked up him with squinting eyes, “You’re taller than my dad?” he said with wide eyes.

“I believe you,” said Jon and smiled down at the boy once again. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Danus,” said the boy as he still tried to squirm around to look at Jon, although the gray knight’s huge hand kept the boy turned around to face the front. “Let me go!”

Jon put his arm around the boy, with a swing of his leg dismounted, and then set him down on the ground. “Go get your father, Danus,” he said and released his hold around the young fellow’s waist.

Meanwhile Sorus rode over to the older boy who looked to be in his early teens and dismounted from his steed. “Hi there, do I know you?”

The boy shook his head and gazed back with wide eyes.

“I’m Sorus Nightwalker but I used to be Sorus Brewer from Black Dale down the river. I bet you’ve been to town a few times, right?”

The boy nodded his head his eyes still wide.

“Have you seen any patrols come by lately? Any dragon children?” said Sorus as he led his horse over to a nearby post and tied off the reins. “Is your mom or dad home?”

The boy shook his head at the first question but then nodded it at the follow-up.

Sorus looked at him for a second, “Was that no to seeing any patrols and yes to the dragon child or yes to your mom and dad?” The young knight then laughed out loud as the boy stared at him for a moment. “Never mind, we’ll figure it out. Come on, let’s go to the house with Jon and your brother. That is your brother isn’t it?”

The boy nodded his head and smiled.

“What’s his name?” said Sorus as he motioned with his head to the younger boy who walked with Jon Gray towards the house.

“He’s Danus,” said the older boy, “and I’m Olneus.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Olneus,” said Sorus and he suddenly realized he mimicked the behavior many of the powerful knights of Elekargul used when the spoke to him back in Black Dale. “Have you seen any children of the dragons around here at all?”

The boy shook his head no again as they got to Jon and Danus. “What have you managed to get out of this one,” said Sorus to the knight of gray, just as a tall man came out of the house, a sword buckled to his side and a square jaw that looked a bit orcish, although his blonde hair and features were mostly human. “Proteus,” said Sorus with a smile. “I thought I might know who lived here. It’s me, Sorus Brewer, except I’m a knight now, Sorus Nightwalk.”

The man’s frown suddenly broke and he smiled at Sorus, “Sorus Nightwalk, it suits you, and who’s your big friend?”

“I’m Jon Gray,” said Jon and moved forward to grasp the man by the hand. “Sorus and I are looking for the First Rider. Has he been by on patrol anytime recently?”

Proteus looked to Soras for a moment and then at Jon with a glance of narrowed eyes.

“He’s ok, Proteus,” said Sorus. “He’s an ambassador from a place called Tanelorn. We were up in the Mountains of the Orc with Sir Germanius a few days back. Jon, show him that sketch you made of Sir Germanius.”

“That old man,” said Proteus with a smile. “He served with my grandfather if you can believe that and I’m old enough to be your father, Sorus. How is he?”

Jon handed over the sketch and the square-jawed man looked at it for a moment and said, “Oh, well, that puts a new light on the subject then doesn’t it? Why don’t you boys come on in and the lads and me will make up some dinner. You’re welcome to stay in the barn tonight. We can talk about the First Rider in a bit. So how did you end up with a sketch like this of Sir Germanius, Jon?”

The two boys tried to peek at the paper their father held, he looked at it one more time as a smile appeared on his face and then handed it to his oldest son. “Don’t rip that Olneus and make sure your bother doesn’t either.”

The young boy nodded his head solemnly and took the piece of paper over to a butcher block table in the kitchen. His brother climbed up on a chair next to him and they stared at the paper wide-eyed while the others walked through the kitchen and into a small dining room.

As they passed, Jon noted the kitchen looked well equipped with a fine wood stove and a number of cabinets but none of the floral curtains or vases filled with flowers that one expected to find in the domain of women. They made their way to the dining room that was also clean and orderly although lacking in the feminine touch.

Proteus motioned to the chairs and took a seat at the head of the table. “So, Jon, tell me how you ended up with this sketch.”

Jon looked at the square-jawed man and then to Sorus, who nodded his head, “I came to Elekargul on a mission from my father and we ran into some trouble in town with the mayor. He didn’t … think my story was believable and refused to send out scouts to alert the First Rider.”

“I can understand that,” said Proteus. “Who knows who you really represent and, if you wait long enough, the First Rider will find you eventually.”

“That seems reasonable,” said Jon. “It was Sorus here who I first met up with when I came out of the Mountains of the Orc and he suggested heading out to prove myself as a warrior. Sir Germanius and the mayor’s son came with us.”

“The old fellow looking to get himself killed in one last heroic stand no doubt,” said Proteus, “but why did Mikus come along?”

“I’d guess the mayor wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything to harm Elekargul,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders although he did raise his eyebrows.

“That’s a charitable assessment,” said Proteus as he nodded his head. “So you found a dragon up in the mountains. That’s quite an achievement.”

“I don’t think it was a coincidence,” said Jon. “The dragon recognized me as soon as it saw me and called out my name. Fortunately for me, Sir Germanius had one last good fight in him and killed the beast before it did the same to me. I’m no artist but I think the sketch is fairly accurate.”

“Why would the dragon recognize you?” said Proteus his hands flat on the table.

“We don’t know,” interrupted Sorus, “but I heard it say his name as clear as day. The dragon children are involved in this as well. Jon … Jon confided his mission to me and I can vouch for it. He needs to see the First Rider as soon as possible. There are forces in the darkling lands moving against him and maybe all of Elekargul.”

“We’ve seen several reptile men about of late but none with dragonish features, just the usual sort from Darag’dal but they did act a bit strange,” said Proteus.

“The mayor martialled all the civilian knights in Black Dale and sent them south to fight off an invasion from the reptile people,” said Sorus. “The town is completely vulnerable and Jon and I found a stairwell in the darkling lands wide enough to march up an entire army. We have to find the First Rider and tell him what is going on.”

“He was here not long ago,” said Proteus. “But, there’s nothing we can do until tomorrow morning,” he went on. “You wait here and the boys and I’ll set up something to eat.” With that the square-jawed man stood up and left the room.

“He looks like a knight but he’s a farmer?” said Jon.

“Proteus’s wife died in childbirth with their second son. He has no sisters and he took the Brokenshield so that he could raise the boys. He’s one of the finest knights in all of Elekargul and once served as the First Rider but that was before I was born,” said Sorus. “Once the boys are old enough to be on their own he can try to regain his name.”

“Can’t he just take it back; it’s not like those other fellows who had theirs stripped from them,” said Jon a puzzled expression across his face.

“That’s not the way it works,” said Sorus with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter how you become a Brokenshield, the only way back is through some act of heroism and then another knight can give you a second name.”

“We’ll be safe here?” said Jon, “He can be trusted?”

Sorus nodded, “Absolutely Jon. I know the mayor comes across badly but there aren’t many knights like that in all of Elekargul. Even the mayor did what he thinks is best for the nation even if it doesn’t seem that way.”

“Unless he’s being influenced somehow,” said Jon his hand placed on the table as he drummed with his fingers. “There are forces here at work beyond what I understand. The Staff of Sakatha is a relic of the Old Empire there are a lot of people who want to get a hold of it. The reptile men, or dragon children, or whatever you want to call them, yes, but other forces as well. An item like that brings out the worst in men, that’s why my father wants to put it away where it can’t influence the world.” Jon suddenly looked up from the table and saw that young Danus gazed at him with wide eyes from the doorway. “Did you hear all that?” said Jon looking at the boy.

Danus nodded his head. “What’s the Staff of Sakatha?”

Jon looked at Sorus and shook his head, “I’m not doing a good job of keeping this whole thing secret, am I?”

The young knight smiled and laughed, “I don’t think there is much of a secret at all to be honest Jon. That dragon knew you; Proteus mentioned that reptile men in the region are acting strangely. It took you how many months to get here after you left Tanelorn?”

“Maybe four and a bit. I used a portal to Sea’cra but then it took me a while to find a ship heading as far south as Tarlton. Once I got to Doria it took me almost two months to make my way here,” said Jon as he closed his eyes and looked to the sky. “If anyone back in Tanelorn knew my mission they couldn’t have beaten me here.”

“No, but they could use magic to pass messages along. I’ve seen the priests in the temple of the Black Horse communicate all the way across Elekargul with other clerics almost instantaneously,” said Sorus. “Who knows what’s possible with magic, and your father doesn’t control the only working portal in the world.”

“That’s true,” said Jon just as Danus came back into the room with his brother, both carrying plates and silverware and beginning to set the table. The boys worked diligently for a few moments and soon flatware, silverware, and stemware covered the previously empty surface. The boys finished their work and disappeared back in the kitchen only to emerge with pitchers of water that they poured it into all the glasses. Jon and Sorus watched the proceedings and looked at one another with raised eyebrows. After pouring the water the boys returned to the kitchen and Danus came back out a moment later with a small plate of dried bread and cheeses while Olneus returned the art work to Jon. “Here’s your drawing back,” he said and held it up with a shy smile on his face.

“Thank you, Olneus,” said Jon and took the parchment with a smile. “Did you know Sir Germanius?”

The young boy nodded his head solemnly, “He fell asleep once over there,” he said and pointed to the large fireplace where kindling and logs stood at the ready and a rocking chair did look invitingly comfortable.

“Hello Dolly,” said Jon and walked over to the fireplace, spotted a knife and a metal block, which he quickly used to spark up the blaze. Within a few moments the kindling caught fire and smoke began to rise up the flue.

A couple of hours later the boys were in bed while Jon, Sorus, and Proteus sat around the blaze and sipped whiskey from tall tumblers, “You get this from the orcs you say,” asked Sorus as he screwed up his face and took another sip.

“Just over the mountains,” said Proteus who also took a small sip and closed his eyes as an expression of contentment came over his face. “They make the finest I’ve ever had and I trade some of my chicken eggs with a fellow over there about once a month or so. Add a little more water if it’s too hearty for you, Sorus. You’re just a boy still, even if you’re a knight, and there’s no shame in adding water for taste. Sometimes a fellow thinks he has to do something the hard way to appear manlier, but often times the best strategy is to do things as easily and effectively as possible.”

Sorus nodded his head and eyed the tumbler for a moment before he got up, took the water filled pitcher from the small cherry wood side table near the fire, and poured a small amount into his glass. He then stood and looked at the fire for a moment before he took another sip and nodded his head, “That’s a bit more like it. I thought I was drinking straight from an ant’s stinger!”

Proteus laughed and Jon stood up and went over to the pitcher himself. “I had the same sort of thoughts,” he said and put a splash of water in his own drink. “That stuff is toxic,” he said as he took a sip of the drink and smiled. “Much better. Proteus, I want to thank you for having us as guests in your home. You’ve raised a couple of fine boys there and I’m sure they’ll become knights when they get older. Do you plan to try and gain back your name once they become men?”

Proteus nodded his head and rubbed his chin with his forefinger and thumb. “I’ve thought about that a lot over the least ten years,” he said. “I’m not as young as I was then and I’ve grown fond of this lifestyle. I take care of the cows, the chickens, manage the crops; it’s hard work in its own right and Elekargul needs good farmers as much as it needs good warriors in many ways.”

“That’s true,” said Sorus, “just like it needs good brewers, but isn’t that why we serve a twelve month every other year, to be good citizens, not just good warriors?”

“The twelve month system works fine,” said Proteus with a shake of his head in contradiction to his words, “and I think it’s generally a good idea, but there is no way a knight can really learn a trade by serving twelve months. It’s up to the journeymen and the apprentice boys who never want to be knights to do things right. We knights tend to get rotated in our twelve months anyway, so just as you’re getting a feel for one job it’s back to the patrolling and then off to some new job. When I did my twelve month I always tried to take on too much responsibility rather than let the journeyman do the job. I’ve thought about that a lot since I took the Brokenshield,” he concluded as he still rubbed his chin and looked at the roaring fire.

Sorus nodded his head and said, “We’ve had a few knights try to do too much at the brewery, but a lot of the times it’s a man like Thaddeus Redhand who lets the journeyman and the apprentice do the work and just tries to learn from them.”

“Thaddeus Redhand,” mused Proteus and a smile appeared on his face. “I was in the battle when Thaddeus got his name. We were fighting insect men up north making a raid, but they hooked up with a bunch of renegade orcs from Relm. Bandits, criminals, the sort who live up in the wilderness areas until they wear out their welcome and have to move on again. I suppose the mayor suspected you fell into that category, Jon, just some roving drifter moving from one place to the next but,” he continued and looked at the size of the boy and remembered his own impression upon first meeting him, “no, you’re not that sort and anyone can see it. I think there might be an untoward influence on the mayor and some others. I told you, the First Rider was here not long ago and now I’ll tell you the entire story. Then tomorrow morning, we’ll ride out and find him.”

“What about the boys?” said Sorus and looked towards the wooden door where they disappeared just a short time before.

“They’re getting old enough to take care of themselves and the farm,” said Proteus, the smile gone from his face and his eyes steady towards the front door.

“There are darklings up in those hills, not a day’s travel from here,” said Jon. “Maybe the boys could come with us. They both look old enough to sit a mount and I’d hate to be responsible for taking you away from here if something were to happen.”

Proteus thought about that for a long moment and nodded his head, “That’s a good idea, Jon, I hate to leave the farm unattended, but we shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of days and the boys need some experience riding. I’ve got a couple of ponies, but they won’t be able to keep up with your horses, so if speed is of the essence we should leave them behind.”

Jon thought about both proposed plans and nodded his head, “It could go either way really,” he finally concluded. “But from what Sorus and I saw down there in the darkling lands I’d say I don’t feel comfortable leaving the boys behind. We’ll head out in the morning?”

Proteus nodded his head, “That’s right. Now, the First Rider came to me about three months ago with news that something big happened up in the Mountains of the Orc and asked me to keep an eye on the region.”

Jon started to interrupt with a question, but Proteus raised a hand, “Let me finish the whole story or we’ll be here all night.”

Jon nodded his head and smiled, “Of course Proteus, I’m sorry, please continue.”

Proteus nodded, stood up to get a large glass carafe filled with a light brown fluid, poured some into his cup, and offered it to the other two. Both of the boys looked at their own still half-full containers and shook their head. The square jawed knight then went over to the fireplace and the pitcher of water, poured in a small amount, and then returned to his seat. “About three months ago the First Rider asked me to keep an eye on the Mountains of the Orc. He didn’t want to increase patrols in the region because he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on. Vipsanius is in contact with the orcs of Adas Jdar over the mountains and they informed him that the darklings below the mountain were working with dragon children from Darag’dal and the Lady of the Abyss, although towards what end he was uncertain.” Proteus paused for a moment and took a sip from his tumbler. “About a month later the First Rider visited again, this time with more concrete information. Apparently a powerful undead creature named Lord Whitebone sent allies, yes, Jon, likely that dragon Sir Germanius killed, to the region to look for a relic of the Old Empire.”

At this Jon and Sorus looked at one another but said nothing.

“Does that sound right to you, Jon?” asked Proteus and stopped his story for the moment.

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to interrupt,” said Jon with a smile on his face as he polished off the last of the liquid in his tumbler, made a face, and then got up to pour himself some more.

“Could you top me off as well,” said Sorus, his cheeks a little red and a rather silly smile on his face.

“Be careful with that,” said Proteus with a grin. “It’s more potent than that beer you brew in town and we don’t need you with a hangover tomorrow morning.”

“Just one more,” said Sorus with a smile. “I think I’m acquiring a taste for this stuff. Next time I’m over the mountains I’ll have to buy some for myself.”

“Next time you’re over the mountains,” said Jon, pouring the whiskey in both of their glasses, and then adding a generous dollop of water. “You’ve barely been out of Black Dale in your life and now you’re talking about the next time you go over the mountains?”

“It was a sigure of feech,” said Sorus and then hiccupped.

“That’s your last,” said Proteus shaking his head and smiling. “But they say the lesson learned best, is the lesson learned hard.”

“Hear, hear,” said Sorus and took the proffered glass from Jon, tilted it back, and splashed some of the burning liquid down his throat. “Whoopee!”

“Vipsanius didn’t know what this relic of the Old Empire was or how it tied in with Elekargul, only that those interested in it were in the region. About a month after that, or one month ago, I got a visit from a roaming band of knights, and they planned to head up into the mountains to investigate a sighting of undead creatures. They stopped here to provision and gave me a map of where they were going in case they didn’t come back. They didn’t say anything about this relic, but I think we all knew what was going on. They never came back and just two days ago I got a message from the First Rider.”

“What did it say?” said Jon and looked over to Sorus, whose head was back and his body slumped in the chair fast asleep. “Kids,” he said with a smile to Proteus.

“How much older than Sorus are you?” asked the square-jawed father of two with a smile.

“Only about two years,” said Jon, “but I’m the son of a lord and I’ve trained for things like this all my life. My father taught me to drink but not get drunk, to listen to everything people say even if it seems immaterial. My brother Val is better at it than I am, and my sister Jane is also, but I’ve learned a few things at least. Sorus there was born to be a brewer not a knight, not a man of responsibility, a man who orders other men to their death. He didn’t have anyone to teach him, so maybe I’m only two years older than him, but I’m ready to help the knights of Elekargul take on a darkling army, an armada of reptile men and their dragon children allies, or endless waves of creatures from the abyss. I know about relics of the Old Empire,” he went on with a look to the great stone sword that leaned against the wall by the door, “and if something like that is around here then you’ll want my help.”

Proteus nodded his head and frowned, “All well-spoken Jon,” he said, “but you remain seventeen years old and, despite your size, many of the knights of Elekargul will likely not let you lead them. You’re going to need our help, and to get it you need to convince the First Rider that you are on our side. After all Jon, you must look at it from his perspective. A relic of the Old Empire suddenly surfaces and all sorts of factions want to claim it. Why is your claim more legitimate than anyone else’s?”

“I can show you that,” said Jon, as he stood up and went over to his pack, “but you don’t have to believe it any more than the mayor of Black Dale did. I am an ambassador of the Gray Lord come to Elekargul all the way from Tanelorn. We are nations of free people, two of three that my father knows to exist in the entire world. We must band together despite the great distance between our nations.”

“Stop right there, Jon,” said Proteus and leaned forward in his seat and put his hand up to stop Jon. “I’m not the First Rider and I have no authority with my people. I’m merely a Brokenshield, my past accomplishments withstanding. It’s not me you must convince but the First Rider. I don’t want to see what you have there. Save it for the right time. Now, let me tell you what the note from the First Rider said and then you can tell me what we should do next.”

Jon stopped in his tracks, the papers in his hand held out towards Proteus; then he turned and put them away.

“The message told me the location the patrol went to in the hills and that more knights were coming to further explore the region. He hoped to be with those knights but thought it might not be possible. He wanted me to pass the map onto them but they aren’t due here for at least another week. If this relic of the Old Empire …,” said Proteus.

“The Staff of Sakatha,” interrupted Jon, his gray eyes steady on Proteus.

“If this … Staff of Sakatha … has emerged up in the Mountains of the Orc and there are already minions of the abyss and dragon children there, then every day, every hour is of importance. We can ride out in the morning to the plains and hopefully meet up with the First Rider within two or three days, but we might just as easily miss them entirely. Another choice is to wait here until the First Rider or the patrol he sent arrives but, as I said, that might be a week or even more. The First Rider is trying to assemble an experienced group and that can take some time in Elekargul as everyone is off on their own patrols. Generally the most experienced knights lead a patrol for a twelve month. Or,” he said as he summed up, “you, Sorus there,” with a finger pointed to the sleeping boy, “and I can follow the map ourselves up into those hills.”

“What about your sons?” said Jon.

“I can leave them here to tell the First Rider where we went or to pass along a copy of the map in case Vipsanius isn’t with them,” said Proteus, standing up, and going over to a large desk in the corner of the room. He reached under the desk, flicked something with his hand, and then pulled open the drawer. Inside was a map on a plain piece of parchment although from the distance Jon sat he couldn’t make out much of anything else. “I have the map here and I’ll make a copy for us if you think that is what we should do.”

Jon looked first at Proteus, then at Sorus, and finally he gazed into the fire for a moment to watch the flames lick over the thick logs as they turned from brown to black. The wood slowly consumed released its energy into the room in the form of heat. He spent several moments at this and then turned to Proteus, back in his seat and with his tumbler at his lips. “I think we three should head up into the mountains first thing in the morning,” he said. “But, I can understand that you might not trust me and prefer to find the First Rider and gain his counsel.”

Proteus smiled broadly, “You are a boy of action,” he said, “it’s plainly written on your face and I expected nothing less. As I’ve gotten older, and wiser,” he went on, “I find that action is almost always the best strategy but not before you analyze all the pertinent information with a critical eye. The bad First Riders are always the ones who surround themselves with men who agree with everything they say. I’ve heard your council and I’ve weighed the facts; we ride in the morning … to the mountains!”

Jon nodded his head and looked the logs as they burned, their energy slowly sapped away to leave nothing but burned out husks, and then he looked at fifteen year old Sorus Nightwalk. “I don’t like taking Sorus with us,” he said. “He’s so young and there will be danger.”

“When Sir Germanius granted him a name he became a knight of Elekargul. Cincanattus Clay was younger than Sorus when he took a name and perhaps just about your age when he intitally became First Rider,” said Proteus as he nodded his head and looked at the sleeping lad. “It will be dangerous but, if he survives, he might become a great knight.”

“Who was Cincanattus Clay?” said Jon, turning his head to the side to gaze at Proteus.

“You’ve not heard that story?” said Proteus. “It’s one of the most famous in all of Elekargul.”

“I’ve only been in the nation for a week,” said Jon, “although I’ve heard a number of astonishing stories. Your people were born of fire and war, like my own. Tell me about this Clay.”

Proteus stood up and tossed another pair of logs onto the fire, then returned to his chair, and leaned back with a long sigh, “Cincannatus Clay was an apprentice potter not taken on as a squire when he was a boy. He longed to join the knights, much like Sorus. He lived in the little village of Dale Camp which is in the far north of Elekargul beyond the Hollow Wood. In those days the insect men did not yet rule the lands to the north of our nation but instead a tribe of mixed bred orcs and ogres lived up there and attacked us on a regular basis. The mayor of the town was a Brokenhand and a former First Rider. He only had one son and spent his life training the boy in the ways of the sword and lance. His son showed considerable promise with both weapons; many thought his future quite bright and those included most of the eligible young girls in town. His son thought a bit too much of himself, as spoiled boys often will. One day a band of orcs led by a powerful ogre killed some farmers in the north and the patrolling riders mustered in town to ride them down. The town mayor offered his son to squire for one of the knights headed out to battle, as the laws of Elekargul prevented him from abandoning his civilian duties. That night the boy dallied into the late hours with pretty girls and drank too much. He did not fall asleep until only a few hours before the group planned to head out after the marauders.”

Proteus stopped her for a moment. “Yes, there are spoiled children in Elekargul as there are everywhere in the world but we try to teach them better.” The square-jawed knight took a sip from his glass and continued his story. “The rules back in those days were such that no boy without master could take the field of battle with men, so Cincannatus broke into the other boy’s equipment, stole his arms and armor, and left a single copper coin behind as payment. The thinking being that the coin was as valuable to Cincannatus as the armor to the squire. I suppose you can imagine the rest from there. Cincannatus performed great deeds of valor on the battlefield, saved several knights, and personally slew the leader of the maruaders. When they returned to town the mayor himself heard of his son’s performance in the field and insisted on rewarding the boy. When Cincannatus took off his helm everyone knew the truth and the mayor, being a knight of Elekargul, did not become enraged but instead honored Cincannatus by not only making him a knight but also giving him the opportunity to create his own name. It is the only time in the history of Elekargul that a newly made-knight also create a new name line at the same time. Cincannatus chose the name Coppercoin and only boys without knightly masters who perform valorously on the field of battle take it. It is the rarest of names in all of Elekargul and any Coppercoin you might meet is a force with whom you must reckon. Cincannatus went on to become First Rider eleven times and is probably the most famous knight in all of our history after Brutus Brokenhand.”

“That’s quite a story,” said Jon. “In Tanelorn anyone can become a knight but, like here, only if another knight deems them worthy. We don’t use names in the same way you do though. A parent names a child at birth and they keep that name all their lives.”

“The First Rider is a Coppercoin, Vipsanius Coppercoin. He’s quite a fellow and it will be most interesting to see you two fight side by side if that ever comes to pass,” said Proteus and he nodded his head and smiled at Jon.

“Why is that?” asked the tall young man suddenly feeling a little light headed, but did not let that stop him as he finished off the dregs of the last tumbler of whiskey.

“That is a tale for another night, my young friend,” said Proteus. “Now, do you think you can carry your friend to the barn? We should get an early start tomorrow if we want to get to the mountains by midday. I don’t like to climb those things under anything less than ideal lighting conditions.”

Jon stood up, walked over to Sorus, looped his arm under the boy, and threw him over his shoulder with an almost casual move. “I think I can manage,” he said and then turned towards the front door.

Proteus lit a lantern with a stick from the fire and led the two outside to the barn and watched as Jon put Sorus on a bed of straw and then arranged his own. “Good night, Proteus, and I’m sorry I’ve gotten you involved in all of this,” said Jon.

“Don’t be sorry, Jon, the Black Horse works in mysterious ways, perhaps it is time I started to think about being a knight again. These years with the boys, most knights consider it the worst thing that can happen, taking the Brokenshield, but these years raising the boys, farming, working in short sleeves with a hoe and a plow horse, well, I’ve taken to them, I must admit. After … after my wife died … I didn’t really want to go on living at all and I thought … I could raise the boys just long enough … well … I hate to give it up but I think now it’s time. We’ll see. In any case, Jon, what happens happens, what doesn’t, doesn’t. Sleep well knight of Tanelorn and may the morrow bring us good fortune.” With that the square-jawed man walked away and Jon watched the lantern swing back and forth until it reached the house and disappeared completely.

Sorus already snored lightly and Jon listened to him for a few minutes and then put his own head down on the straw and soon was asleep.

Chapter 14

“Dead!” screamed Lord Whitebone as the skeletal creature stood in front of his bony throne and looked at the ghoulish form of Thantos. His death mask skull radiated a wave of palpable heat and his eyes burned so intensely that they appeared blue in color. “What do you mean dead?”

“He now serves the Mistress of the Abyss, She Who Rules Eternally, She who has Ruled in the Abyss since the …,” said the ghoul and licked its lips and smiled at the rage of Whitebone.

“Enough of your listing of her titles, is she so insecure in her reign that her servants must repeat endlessly this mantra of her eternal rule. Damn you, Thantos, and damn your mistress as well,” said Whitebone turning his back on the ghoul with a sweep of his long cape.

“Shall I convey that message to She Who Eternally Rules,” said Thantos, unable to keep the smirk from his face but the comment did not provoke the angry reaction for which he hoped.

The undead master said nothing and paced back and forth in front of the ghoul for a long minute before he turned to face the creature once again, “How did it happen?”

Thantos spread his arms, “Our informant did not witness the actually murder itself, merely the milieu after the fact. We have a description of the culprits.”

“Tell me,” said Whitebone, moving to within inches of the ghoul.

“It is not for me to say,” said Thantos and once again he smirked as his impossibly long tongue licked up into the hollow of his nose. “The Mistress of the Abyss, She Who Rules Forever, stays my hand unless you are willing to negotiate.”

Whitebone reached forward with a long hand, his clawed fingers came to rest under the chin of the ghoulish creature and dug into the decayed flesh. “I raised that dragon from an egg,” he said. “I will have vengeance upon those who killed him and I will not tolerate anyone who keeps the culprits from me. I will tear you limb from limb if you do not come forward with the information immediately!”

Thantos looked at the burning embers in the hollow sockets of Lord Whitebone’s face and shook his head, “No, Lord Whitebone. While I’m convinced your threats are genuine I cannot violate a direct order of the Lady of the Abyss, even should I so desire. You know this to be true as you, in your state of undeath, are subject to the same laws as I.”

Whitebone glared at the ghoul for a moment but then slowly pulled back his hand and put it behind his back where he clasped it with his other, “True enough, Thantos,” he said as his eyes dipped in intensity to a molten hot piece of metal freshly pulled from the forge. “What does the Mistress of the Abyss desire from me?”

Thantos smiled and walked over to the bone throne, sat down in it, put his hands on the armrests, and once again licked his face, “She Who Rules Eternally, The Great and Glorious One, wishes you to personally see to the Staff of Sakatha. When you, personally, on your knee, return it to her then she will give you the descriptions of the people responsible for the death of your little dragon.”

“Perhaps,” said Whitebone who moved a few steps away from Thantos, “you are lying about my pet in order to get what you want?”

Thantos shrugged, “I merely follow the orders given to me by the Lady of Death, the Ruler of the Deathlands. I do not know if your precious pet is alive or dead. I simply relay information from her to you. If you think I am lying than I shall return to my mistress, She Who Has Ruled for all Eternity, and report your answer.”

Lord Whitebone nodded his skeletal head and stared at the ghoulish creature for a long moment as his eyes slowed cooled to a deep red. “That is true of course, and I shall find out if Snowball is dead in due course in any case. Naturally, if it is a lie your mistress knows how I will react when I find out. She also knows that she is safe from my wrath but you, Thantos, are not.”

“Your threats, as I explained earlier, are of no concern to me,” said the ghoul and playfully ran his hands over the throne and snapped off what looked to be a finger bone, “oops.”

“I agree to your terms,” said the skeletal ruler of the region. “I will travel by portal to the darklands and see to the retrieval of the staff myself. However, not being a dragon child, I do not have access to the dreams of Chusarausea and this limits my ability to find the staff. The dragon dreams are only accessible to descendants of that race, the reptile men and such. Snowball was to coordinate activity with several dragon children but now I do not have those contacts, unless they survived the events that killed my dragon.”

“I have no knowledge of that,” said Thantos with a shrug his shoulders, “and the difficulty of finding the staff is not my concern. I simply expect that you will find it, you will obtain it, and you will return it to She Who Rules Eternally. Other than that, I leave the details to you.”

“Now, if you will vacate my seat,” said Whitebone and nodded his head slightly to Thantos, “I can summon my servants and prepare to venture out.”

“If you require any further aid from me, or the Lady of the Abyss,” said Thantos, as he stood up and casually tossed the finger bone across the floor where it came to rest up against the wall, you will inform us over the usual channels.” With that the ghoul walked down the narrow hallways and soon disappeared around a corner.

Whitebone sat in his throne and stared into empty space for some time until a large soldier with a badly scarred face approached, “Lord Whitebone,” he said with a bow. “Your orders?”

“Tell the mages to prepare the portal for travel to the darklands, the same location we sent Snowball,” said the master of the realm as his fingers tapped irregularly on his bone throne.

The scarred warrior turned to leave but Whitebone raised a finger, “General,” he said and the soldier turned back to face his commander. “Tell everyone to keep an eye out for the dark shadow Tenebrous and if they see him to report it to me immediately,” he finished.

“Yes, Lord Whitebone,” said the scarred warrior and turned once again and marched stiffly out of the room.

“The black shadow is far more dangerous than Thantos,” mused Whitebone as his fingers tapped out a rhythm on the throne, “and yet far more useful at the same time. It is most vexing that the most predictable of my servants and my enemies are also the least useful. I suppose that is the way of things.”

Chapter 15

“My head hurts,” said Sorus as the trio of men and their horses walked slowly east towards the Mountains of the Orc. Ahead of them the Frosty Run gurgled with snow melt and promised fresh fish for dinner but, for the moment, the air was crisp, the sky blue, and the boy’s head hurt.

“Let that be a lesson,” said Proteus as he glanced over from his mount. “Next time drink in moderation. All things in moderation, drink, food, battle, horseback riding, and dungeon delving for lost relics of the Old Empire.”

“Ooooh,” moaned Sorus as his horse’s hooves plowed into the lush fields of grass where pretty little orange flowers blossomed more fully as the morning progressed. “I’ll never drink again,” and then he suddenly pulled his horse over, tried to dismount, fell to the ground on his knees and then elbows, and then threw up with great heaves. The horse moved away.

“Eggs,” said Jon with a shake of his head and looked at Proteus with a smile on his face, but also turned the other way, his own stomach suddenly queasy.

“I didn’t think that was such a good idea this morning,” said the square-jawed Brokenshield who also shook his head, “but I did suggest just some stale bread and a little milk.”

“Shut up,” said Sorus from the ground, “it’s not like I can’t hear you,” and then he started to heave again although only liquid came up and then nothing at all. After a few more moments he staggered to his feet, lurched over to his horse, pulled off a canteen, and took a shallow swig of water. He breathed deeply for a few more moments and then took another sip.

“At least he didn’t throw-up on the flowers,” said Jon. “What are those orange ones? Our flora and fauna is totally different in Tanelorn.”

“Flora and fauna?” said Proteus.

“That’s what it’s called,” said Jon. “Animals and plants,” he continued and moved his hand, open palm towards the landscape.

“I know that’s what it’s called,” said Proteus with a smile as he threw up his own hands in a defensive gesture. “I just don’t often here those terms used. You did have quite the education back in Tanelorn.”

“I guess so,” said Jon. “My mom made sure of that and my older brother Val is kind of a stickler about learning things. He’s a gray druid now and he talks with dad and the other elders about important things.”

“An older brother,” said Proteus. “I can’t imagine your poor mother wanting to have children after one like you,” he said as they waited for Sorus to roll onto his horse and continue the journey. The poor boy managed to mount on his third try as he slung his leg up and around and then fell forward, face down, onto the mane of the beast.

“He was born early,” said Jon. “He’s much shorter than me and has a club foot so he’s more of a wizard than a fighter. That’s not to say he doesn’t know his way around the blade though,” said Jon suddenly and turned his head and looked at Proteus. “I didn’t mean to say ….”

Proteus smiled and shook his head, “I didn’t take it that way Jon, and I’ve got an older brother myself. I’m sure he’s a fine bladesman but everyone has their own specialties and interests. Not everyone is made out to be a knight,” he said with a shrug and looked over at Sorus. “Sit up straight boy, leaned over like that you bounce more, and in your condition, that’s not good.”

“Uhghh,” said Sorus and tried to sit up but only managed a half slump in his seat. “I don’t feel good.”

“Is your brother a knight?” said Jon as he looked at Proteus, “or is he a potter or something?”

“He’s a knight as well,” said Proteus with a shrug and quick rise of his eyebrows, “but that doesn’t mean it’s for everyone. Some of my friends growing up wanted to be knights but then as they got older decided on something else, farming, pottery, tailor, tanner, anything really. There’s no shame in it and those are important professions,” he continued and slapped the leather riding saddle and then the thick wool shirt he wore. “Like I said before, we knights take our twelve month but we don’t really learn a profession. If the journeymen didn’t do their job then the nation wouldn’t be the same.”

“Do you have many wizards here?” said Jon as he glanced over at Sorus. “The reptile men to the south of Tanelorn have snake wizards and we skirmish with them regularly and then there are the rock beasts.”

“Rock beasts,” said Sorus suddenly alert, “what are those?”

Jon shrugged, “That’s something the gray druids want to know as well,” he said and suddenly became quiet. Sorus looked at Proteus who held up his hand palm toward the young knight and nodded twice quickly with his head as they watched Jon. After a few moments the gray knight seemed to come out of his reverie and looked at the other two and shook his head as if to wake himself up. “Sorry, it’s just that I haven’t been away from home for this long ever before. I was just thinking about my family, my friends, my girlfriends.”

“Girlfriends?” said Sorus smiling, “plural?”

Jon shrugged and smiled with a closed mouth, “Well, who am I to say no when they come knocking at my door. I hate to be rude.”

Proteus laughed, “It must be tough to be the son of the ruler,” he said, nudged his horse over to Jon, and smacked the broad-shouldered boy on the back.

“You forgot to say, ‘the son of the ruler and devastatingly handsome,’” said Jon and gave the older man a punch to the shoulder that rocked him to the side.

“My mistake,” said Proteus and reached up with a pained expression to his shoulder, “and watch yourself when you punch your elders, we’re frail old men.”

Jon and Sorus laughed and the young knight of Elekargul suddenly remembered the original question, “Jon, what are rock beasts?”

“There is a … creature … an elemental thing … well, something to the east of Tanelorn called the Rock Lord. No one really knows what it is to be honest. He appeared before I was born not long after my father settled in the region, before Tanelorn. He … it …whatever, it somehow turns living creatures into stone beasts, not just animals either, plants, insects, and people.”

“How do you fight a thing like that,” said Proteus and looked at Jon with a shake of his head.

“That’s what the gray druids do most of the time; they keep the Rock Lord and his minions in check. It’s not hard once you learn the proper spells, a liberal dose of water, a quick bit of cold, and then a heavy batch of hammer play from the gray knights does the trick,” said Jon. “I’ve broken up quite a few in my day. Luckily they’re not too bright, not much different from fighting zombies and skeletons really. They don’t coordinate well and can’t function as a unit on anything other than at the most basic level.”

“That’s horrible, living creatures turned to stone but still alive,” said Proteus. “No wonder the druids of your land want to destroy them so much. If they can’t function as a military unit why doesn’t your father just march on them, kill this Rock Lord, and end his reign once and for all.”

“My father swore never to launch an aggressive military campaign. The knights of gray and the druids of gray only go to battle if we are attacked by someone else,” said Jon. “That was one of the pledges he made to the Union of Grelm and the Five Nations so that they accepted his rule in the region.”

“But you said the rock beasts and you fight regularly,” said Sorus. “Why don’t you just wait for them to attack and then counterattack them all the way back to this Rock Lord.”

“My father,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders, “thinks that a violation of the spirit of his pledge. When attacked we only fight back to the edge of our borders and then leave off. I don’t agree with him myself but he’s still in charge of the lands and, until I’m in command, that’s the way it is.”

“Will you be the Gray Lord eventually,” said Sorus and looked at Jon closely with lips slightly parted.

Jon shrugged again, “I don’t know. My brother says he doesn’t want to be ruler and there are other men, older than I, who are powerful warriors and my father’s aides. My father didn’t get married until later in life and Val is twenty-five; I’m seventeen like my sister but my father is sixty. There’s Scar Blackheart, he’s an orc formerly of the Black Rose tribe of the Five Nations, and others as well. My father says that each generation has to rule themselves and overcome their own hardships so I don’t even know if Tanelorn will go on after he dies.”

Proteus and Sorus continued alongside Jon as their horses moved at a slow but steady pace. No one said anything for the next few miles, and soon a little eddy of the Frosty Run appeared in the clear morning air. Sorus rode ahead, dismounted, and plunged his head into the cool mountain-fed river for a moment. He then pulled out and shook his head back and forth before he ducked it back under for a second time. He repeated this process several more times until his ears were bright red and his face had a huge smile. “Now, that’s more like it,” he said and stood up straight, bent his back, and looked up into the blue sky where a few fluffy clouds drifted past. “I’m feeling better now!”

“Kids,” said Proteus and shook his head as a broad grin came across his face. “It takes me four days to recover from something like that.”

“You drink too much frequently?” said Jon although he also laughed at Sorus’s new found energy.

Proteus looked at Jon and raised his eyebrows, “Come on, Sir Sorus, let’s try and find a ford in the river so we can head up in the mountains, find that relic, and get back to my boys before the First Rider even knows we’re on the mission.”

Jon pulled on his reins and turned his horse north and upstream, “I’ll head north,” he said and spurred the two toned trotter into a canter.

“I guess we’ll go downstream,” said Proteus to Sorus and the young man looked up towards the square jawed former knight and managed to glance at the sun. He turned his head and closed his eyes, “Ughhh, maybe I’m not so great,” he muttered and bent over for a moment but managed to keep from a repeat performance.

“Mount up there, Nightwalk,” said Proteus, “and let’s find that ford before Sir I’ve got ten girlfriends back home finds one and starts to feel even better about himself.”

Sorus managed to get back on is horse and they took off downstream at a slower pace than Jon. It took them about twenty minutes to find a good spot to cross the river and they met up with Jon about half way back. A quick decision sent them across the river and within an hour they approached the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc.

“Where does that map say we head up?” said Sorus as they rode along the foothills and occasionally glanced towards the mountains that loomed high above them.

“It’s not really that fine a map, Sorus,” said Proteus with a glance towards the saddlebag where the map rested. “We should find a small trail somewhere along here and then head up. If we find the right one then we’ll find some ruins about halfway up the mountain but it might be dark by then.”

“Great, another night in the mountains,” said Sorus. “At least I’ve still got my cold weather gear from the last time.”

Soon enough they found a trail but, before they headed up, Sorus spent considerable time scouting out the region to look for any hidden ambushes. When Proteus looked to Jon the young knight nodded his head and said, “You can’t blame him after what happened before,” and then explained the death of Mikus to the older knight.

“The problem,” said Proteus in a low voice to Jon while Sorus was off, “is that an ambush might be around any corner and you can’t spend hours looking under every rock.”

“I know,” said Jon, “but I think we can afford to lose ten minutes here and he’ll learn in time that sometimes things just happen and no one is to blame.”

After the short delay they led the horses up into the mountains on the small trail. They spent most of the day in the slow ascent and stopped once when a goat almost ran headlong into them. Proteus took it down with a quick shot from a small bow he carried at his side and they dressed the creature quickly before they continued the journey.

“I don’t think we’ll make the ruin before nightfall,” said Proteus as he looked to the darkened sky. “We should find a campsite soon. There are goblins up in the hills most nights and they’ve been more aggressive of late.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Sorus as he continued to look at each large rock or tree in the hopes he might spot an attack before it happened. “Can we start a fire to cook the goat?” he said, “or should we try not to draw attention to ourselves with the smoke and light?”

Jon looked to Proteus who replied, “A fire should be all right if we keep it under an overhang. Smoke isn’t easy to see at night and the light won’t be visible from too far away if we keep it low.”

Soon enough they sat around a fire, goat haunch over the open flame, as they drank hot water and complained about the already cold temperature. “It’ll be colder later,” said Proteus. “Jon, do you think we should set watches or just try and get a good night’s sleep?”

Jon shrugged, “Watches are probably a good idea just to get into the habit. It might take us a couple of days up here to find the ruins and if we’re on the wrong path longer than that.”

“Sorus,” said Proteus to the young knight, “why don’t you get to sleep first to recover from your overindulgence, I’ll take the first watch after dinner, Jon you take the second, and Sorus can take over from you until morning.”

Late that night Jon shook Sorus’s shoulder as the boy lay curled under the heavy wool blanket and it took a moment for him to wake up, “Hmmm,” he grunted, “my watch?”

“Here,” said Jon and handed him a mug filled with hot liquid, “I stoked the fire a bit and boiled some water. This should wake you up, drink it and have some food as well, that helps on watch.”

“Thanks, Jon,” said the boy as he rolled out of his blanket and found his heavy boots in the dark after a missed grope or two. He knocked them together and flipped them over for a few seconds before he put them on his feet, while Jon crawled under his own heavy woolen blanket and began to breathe heavily within a few seconds.

The moon was low on the horizon when Sorus looked up from his cup of coffee towards the sky. Even at this lower altitude of the mountains the sky seemed clearer than on the ground near Black Dale and the twinkles of the stars gleamed like lanterns during a festival night. The moon was low on the horizon and the only sounds that came to the young knight’s ears were the snores of Proteus and the rhythmic croaks from the little frogs that lived in the trees. On the night he and Jon chased the goblins into the cave he didn’t notice such things and he couldn’t help but stare at the stars and listen to the new sounds for a moment before he shook off his wonder and looked around the camp. By the fire several chunks of goat meat sat in a pan and the coffee pot rested on a little mesh tray just next to the fire.

Sorus took a few steps over to it when a small crack from somewhere beyond the camp caused him to stop suddenly and snap to attention. In the night it was impossible to tell from what direction the noise came, but the camp rested against a little notch in the hillside which limited the possibilities. He stood frozen with the empty mug of coffee in one hand, strained his ears towards the darkness, and waited for another sound, but long minutes passed without a repeat. Sorus realized he wasn’t breathing and took in a large gulp of air when an owl flew silently overhead. It was only the fact that he happened to look in that direction that he noted the creature at all and he jumped backwards with a cry as it sailed a few feet over his head.

Proteus and Jon were up in a flash, both with swords in hand as the first looked into the darkness and then at Sorus, “What is it?” they said almost in unison.

“Just an owl,” said Sorus. “It flew past my ear and startled me.”

“There are some little ones up in the mountains,” said Proteus, “I think they call them elf owls and they eat mostly insects and such. They make a whinny like a horse,” he continued as he lay his sword down next to his bedroll and started to climb back in. Just at that moment a heavy growl suddenly came out of the darkness and the square-jawed knight reached for his sword again.

“What was that?” said Sorus and Jon shook his head, shrugged his shoulder, and looked to Proteus in the dim light of the campfire.

“Not a cougar,” said Proteus who stood up his blade in one hand, “more like a wolf or a pack of those wild dogs that roam up here, what do they call them, bush dogs, good swimmers but not active at night much,” he said.

“I don’t know,” said Jon as he stared out into the darkness just as a second growl and a little bark emanated from the night. “If they’re just dogs then they’d leave us alone, unless they’re more aggressive down south.”

“No,” said Proteus with a shake of his head. “Dogs like that won’t attack men, not during the day at least, but they travel in packs, up to a dozen or more. I don’t think they’d come at us but maybe something has them worked up.”

“What should we do?” asked Sorus as he looked back and forth to Proteus and Jon. “Attack? Wait for them?”

“Do goblins used trained bush dogs?” said Jon with sword in hand as he tried to penetrate the darkness with his gaze.

“No, not around here at least, they hate dogs, kill them on sight, but they do ride lizard creatures sometimes,” said Proteus who also looked back and forth as the three men drew up into a semicircle around the fire. “That didn’t sound much like a lizard and goblins generally don’t stalk around much, they just attack.”

Two more growls sounded from outside the fire and Sorus repeated his question, “What should we do?”

Jon looked to Proteus who reached into the low fire, pulled out the back end of a smoldering log, took a few steps into the darkness, and waved it back and forth. Sorus bent down and picked up another branch while Jon simply watched the darkness and spotted a pair of green eyes glowing to his left, “There’s one,” he said and pointed with his huge stone sword towards the eyes, but they blinked out almost as soon as he gestured.

“I don’t see it,” said Sorus as he tried to follow the point of Jon’s sword. Proteus continued to advanced forward in half steps while he waved the smoldering log.

“I don’t see anything,” said Proteus but another growl sounded to their right and Jon spun in his tracks, lashed out quickly with his sword, but saw nothing and hit the same. “They’re not behaving like wild dogs,” said the older man his back towards Jon and Sorus. There’s something strange going on here, they wouldn’t hold back like this if they weren’t under some sort of intelligent command.”

“Do you think they’re being controlled by something, someone?” said Sorus.

“I don’t know said,” Proteus, “but the fire is getting low and they’re just standing out there growling at us. Put some more wood on and, if they are just wild dogs, that should frighten them off quickly enough.

Sorus went over to the small wood pile and looked at the few pieces stored for a quick morning fire and little else, “There’s not much wood here,” he said. “We only piled up enough for breakfast tomorrow.

“Put it all on,” said Proteus, “no sense in taking half steps.”

Sorus looked over to Jon who nodded his head, “If you’re going to do something do it all out, no half measures.”

Sorus began to pile the few pieces of wood onto the fire, which first began to smoke, and after a few seconds burst into flame. The region lightened noticeably with the increased blaze but the growls seemed to grow in intensity with it until it seemed like at least a dozen of the dogs surrounded them. “It’s not working,” said Sorus, “and that’s the last of the firewood. It won’t last more than half an hour.”

“No dog is smart enough to wait like this,” said Proteus. “Who’s out there?” he suddenly yelled into the darkness but the only response was another chorus of growls.

“That’s it,” said Jon suddenly and rushed out into the darkness and left Proteus and Sorus to look at one another for a second and then, as if by some unspoken but mutual communication, they both rushed after him. Sorus felt his heart hammer in his chest as he charged into the darkness unable to see much of anything. A large shape came up suddenly to his right and he lashed out and stuck his blade several inches into a small tree. “Damnit,” he shouted as he looked around but saw nothing. A shout from Jon to his left caused him to pull at the sword. This action seemed to wedge it more deeply into the tree. “Let go!” he shouted at the tree, put both hands to the sword, pulled with a mighty heave that unstuck the blade with a sudden lurch, and sent him backwards head over heels where he landed with a thump and cracked his head against a large rock.

He sat up a second later; the world swam in front of him and a rough hand grabbed him, he tried to lash out with his sword but the blade didn’t seem to be there and he smacked Proteus in the side. “Sorus, are you all right?” said the square jawed farmer as he looked around.

“I … I’m okay,” said the young knight with a shake of his head and a glance around. “I fell down.” He reached back and grabbed at the sharp pain in the back of his head and suddenly touched wet hair. “I’m bleeding?”

“Did something attack you?” asked Proteus, “Jon, he’s over here.”

“No,” said Sorus and looked at his wet hand in the darkness not able to tell much of anything. “I swung at a tree and my sword got stuck and then when I tried to get it out I fell over backwards, my sword!” he suddenly said and looked around wildly in the darkness.

Proteus scanned around as the hulking seven foot form of Jon Gray suddenly emerged from the darkness, “They’re gone,” said the gray knight. “That was no band of bush dogs,” he went on and then noticed Sorus sitting on the ground. “Are you ok?”

“Here it is,” said Proteus a few feet away as he picked up the sword. “Come on, let’s get you back to the camp and look at that nut of yours.”

“Is he wounded?” said Jon and glanced at Sorus with his eyes wide in the darkness.

“It’s not bad,” said Sorus, “I just hit my head on a rock when I fell down,” and he moved his hand back to his head and the wetness that seemed to grow more damp.

Proteus took the boy by the arm, helped him up, and the three found their way back into the camp after a couple of mistrials in the darkness. Only a low, orange flame remained in the campfire as Proteus lowered Sorus down, “Here, let me look at that. Jon, see if you can find a few more logs but don’t go too far from the camp. Whatever was out there isn’t far away.”

Jon nodded and headed out into the darkness as Proteus had Sorus lean over and saw the large amount of blood that came from a gash across the boys head, “Head wounds bleed like a creek at spring flood, let me get some bandages from my bag,” he continued and headed over to his pack. When he got there it was clear someone ransacked the camp while the trio blundered around on the mountain. “The map!” he exclaimed and rushed over to the open sack and the scattered possessions. It didn’t take him long to find it missing.

“What’s wrong,” said Sorus as he began to feel a little lightheaded.

“They stole the map,” said Proteus who soon returned with bandages. “But how could anyone know that we had it?” as he applied the thick cloth to Sorus’s head. “Hold this in place,” he ordered Sorus who put his hand to the cloth and pressed it down. “If it doesn’t stop bleeding in ten minutes or so I might have to stitch it up. I’ve got needle and thread in the pack if they didn’t steal that.”

“You know the healing arts?” said Jon as he returned at that moment, his sword sheathed, and a thick pile of dead wood in his arms.

Proteus nodded, “All knights need to know such things in case there isn’t a priest with healing magic available after a battle.”

Jon nodded, “The knights of Tanelorn can learn much from those of Elekargul,” he said as he put the wood onto the fire which almost immediately sprang back to life.

“They stole the map,” said Proteus to Jon, “but they didn’t kill the horses or take anything else that I noticed.”

“That means …,” said Jon.

“That they know exactly why we’re here,” finished Proteus. “The only way that can be is if they watched the trail because they captured or killed the others.”

“That makes sense,” said Jon. “It also means we’re on the right track. They were stupid not to kill the horses when they had the chance.”

“Probably just low level thugs sent with orders to steal the map and nothing else,” said Proteus. “That’s the problem with slave based militaries. You can’t trust the average soldier with even the simplest task because they have no motivation to think on their own.”

Jon nodded, “It’s the same in Tanelorn. We defeated the orcs of the Five Nations just a couple of years ago when they attacked us. The orcs themselves come from five different tribes and don’t coordinate well, but they also relied on slave auxiliary who never fought like soldiers.”

“I thought you didn’t fight wars of aggression,” said Proteus as the two moved over to Sorus. “Keep pressure on that for a few more minutes,” he said and examined the blood-soaked bandage, “I don’t like the look of that, we’ll probably have to stitch.”

“It was a strange war. I was only eleven or so when it started” said Jon with a shake of his head. “It began with them trying to fight a group of elves that live on the opposite side of Tanelorn. They marched across our territory and we didn’t allow it. After that they sent an army but we defeated them and all of sudden the orcs began to revolt against their leaders, against the idea of slavery. My father says the presence of a free nation like Tanelorn makes every right-thinking man want a better form of government for themselves.”

“We’ve seen similar things here in Elekargul,” said Proteus, “but I think now we need to take care of young Sorus here. Have you ever stitched someone up before?”

Jon shook his head.

“Now’s as good a time as any to learn and I’d prefer you practice on the boy in case something happens to me later!” said Proteus as he clapped Jon on the shoulder.

Sorus looked up while he still held the bloody bandages to the back of his head. “Do I get any say in this?”

Proteus shook his head, “Nope.”

Jon looked nervous as well. “Do I get any say in this?”

Proteus smiled and walked over to his pack and began to rummage around for the needle and thread. “You want to put the needle in the fire for a bit to keep down the chance of infection,” he said, “and we’ll douse Sorus’s head with some of the bourbon to clean the wound.”

“Can I drink some as well?” said Sorus as he eyed first the needle that Proteus pulled out of his pack and then Jon Gray’s huge hands. “Do you think you can handle something so fine?” he asked the big knight.

Jon shrugged, “There’s a first time for everything,” he said with a smile, took the needle from Proteus, then looked to the fire as he twisted the little thing in his hand back and forth. He thought about it for a moment and then pulled a fiery brand from the blaze and held the needle up to it for a few moments. Meanwhile Proteus found the flask of bourbon and applied it in equal doses to Sorus’s head and mouth. Jon attempted to thread the needle several times without success but eventually managed the trick.

“I’m gaining a new respect for mother,” said Jon with a shake of his head as he tried to tie a knot in the end of the string after watching the thread slip out the first time.

“Your mother,” said Sorus, “Not your sister; hey can I have another swig?”

“My sister,” said Jon with a snort as he finally managed to tie off the thread. “She wouldn’t know a needle and thread if I stabbed her in the behind with it. You think I’m a stubborn mule? I wish you could meet her,” he finished as he walked over to Sorus and Proteus with the tools of his new trade. “All right Sorus, this will hurt you more than it’ll hurt me!”

“Great,” said the young knight with a smile and bent his head over. “Let’s get this over with.”

Proteus leaned over and offered advice as Jon began to slip the needle through the skin on the top of Sorus’s head, “Come in at a steep angle, that’s right, there you go, and pull it through, excellent. Now repeat that about ten more times back and forth.”

“What are we … unnh … going to do without the map?” said Sorus as he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the pain.

“Good question,” said Proteus as he watched Jon’s work carefully. “You’ve got to pull the thread tight but you don’t want to break it, that’s the way.”

“You pretty much know that map by heart anyway, don’t you Proteus?” said Jon, his huge hands on Sorus’s forehead making the knight look more like a child than a young man. “I think we just go on with the mission. Our other choice is to head back down the mountain, find the First Rider, and then climb all the way back up and be pretty much in the same position.”

Proteus nodded, “That’s right, now loop back one more time, there, I can’t say I disagree with you, Jon. I’d rather get in trouble for doing something than not doing something, but the thing that concerns me the most is that our foes know we are here, they know where we are headed, and they might even know what we are looking for if they captured the other knights.”

“We don’t even know who are foes are,” said Sorus and winced as the needle passed through his skin one last time. “They can ambush us any time.”

“That is true,” said Jon. “There, now what?”

Proteus looked down at the stitch work and smiled, “You’ve got to make a little knot there at the end, no, don’t cut it until after you finish the knot. Here,” he said and took the needle from Jon’s hand, “it’s a special kind of knot called a square knot, like this. There we go. Good as new, Sorus. I’ll want you to clean that out with bourbon or alcohol every day but we’ll dress it for now with some more cloth. Was that too bad?”

“No,” said Jon and Sorus in unison and then they laughed.

“I think he was talking to me,” said Sorus and held a wad of fresh cloth to the back of his head while Proteus wrapped a length of leather around it.

“This won’t be such a great hold,” said the older knight as he cinched the bandage on, “but it’ll do for now. The light is coming up already so we need to decide on our next course of action pretty quickly now.”

“They might still be watching us,” said Sorus with a pat to his head to test the bandage.

“Don’t play with it,” said Proteus. “You could be right. There are plenty of places to get a good vantage point. They probably had scouts at the pass waiting for the next group of knights to come up. Then, whoever is in charge ordered last night’s little show.”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Sorus and suddenly sat upright which made him dizzy for a moment. “Bury me and head back.”

“What?” said Jon.

“Not really bury me, make a cairn while I hide somewhere, and then ride back like you’re giving up. Then I’ll stay here and watch who comes along. Head back a couple of hours and then get in a fight or something and pretend to change your minds. When you get back I can report what I saw. I might even overhear something important!”

Proteus looked to Jon and nodded his head while he tucked his lower lip under his upper, “That’s actually a pretty good idea, Sorus. Jon, what do you think?”

“It’ll be dangerous,” said the gray knight and looked intently at Sorus. “You’ll have to be very quiet and don’t do anything heroic. Just watch and listen.”

“My head hurts so much I’m not sure I want to move around all that much anyway,” said Sorus with a wan smile.

“We need to get going with this then,” said Jon as he suddenly stood up and looked around. “If they are watching us it’ll be light soon, so you need to figure out a hiding spot while Proteus and I build a cairn.”

Sorus looked around, “There are plenty of spots, over there behind those rocks, back there beyond the tree, somewhere overlooking this camp is probably good because that’s the first place they’ll come.”

“Here,” said Proteus, “take your blanket, some food, and water too. You might be there for hours depending on how long it takes Jon and me to get down the mountain a ways and turn around. I think we should go a couple of hours at least to convince them we’ve really quit.”

“Good idea, Proteus,” said Jon. “Take that stuff and get yourself hidden. We can check if you are visible. Get a decent distance too or they’ll hear you breathing. But, not far enough away you can’t hear them talking. Proteus, maybe we should start talking like Sorus is dead.”

“Right,” said the older knight with a nod of his head. “Here Jon, help me with these rocks. We’ll bury Sorus and then decide what to do.”

The two busied themselves building a rock pile until light began to filter in from dawn, and then saddled their horses and headed back down the mountain as they continued their phony conversation. Sorus waited in the shade wedged between two large boulders partially under a massive tree root. It seemed like a comfortable spot when he first chose it but as the minutes wore on it became less so as a colony of ants began to stir and wander around. “At least they don’t look like the biting kind,” he muttered to himself as they wandered over his boot. “They’ll be in my pants before too long.” He tried to tie his cuffs off with some string he had in his pocket and managed a moderately effective job. He also took a few sips from his water flask and ate a bit of leftover goat meat from yesterday. The voices that came from down near the camp didn’t sound much different from the songs of the morning birds and it wasn’t until they were almost on top of him that he noticed.

“I’ve heard Whitebone is here,” said the voice suddenly and almost in the ear of Sorus. The boy almost jumped up but managed to control himself, although his breath sounded suddenly extremely loud. He peeked through the small crack in the rocks, towards the clearing where they spent the night, and saw the shadow of a man but nothing else.

“Once the dragon died that was inevitable,” came a softer voice, more like a whisper and Sorus barely heard it. “We need to find the staff before he gets here or sending it off to the High Priest will be that much more difficult.”

“Our soldiers are overdue as well,” said the first voice. “General Pharrassa and the others were to arrive by now.”

“We cannot count on them,” said the soft voice. “Their ships might not clear the Dorian peninsula, they all might be drowned.” At that moment the two figures suddenly appeared in the clearing. One wore a heavy brown cloak up over his head and soft leather gloves on his hands.

“It must be a darkling,” thought Sorus to himself, as he knew the creatures did not like to expose themselves to the intense light of the sun. The second figure was very thin and his head looked like a snake with a narrow, green-scaled neck, and no ears. There was a mouth, thin little slits for a nose, and its body appeared more humanoid although the heavy green cloak with red trim around the arms and neck hid almost everything from Sorus’s view.

The darkling spoke next as it pointed to the rock pile, “One of them died in the night,” it said. “We ordered those damned goblins not to attack but simply steal the map. I’ll have Ugred’s hide, we want them alive.”

“It’s no matter,” said the soft voice, its strange snake’s tongue flickering out to taste the air. “The others survived and have fled for the moment. They will be back with reinforcements eventually and without the warriors of Sakatha to aid us we cannot stand against them in the open.”

“Why face them in this awful brightness,” said the darkling. “We can lure them underground where my people have every advantage. We will slay them all.”

“Advantage or no,” said the snake creature as it turned to face the darkling. “How many of your men did you lose capturing that first group of knights?”

“We underestimated their strength,” said the darkling. “A mistake we will not make again. We killed them in the end though.”

“Yes,” said the snake. “You killed them in the end against my orders. I wanted prisoners. We must find out how much they know about the Staff of Sakatha and what they intend to do with it if they recover it.”

“Why must we waste time with such things, master,” said the darkling. “You will find the staff and we will transfer it to your high priest so that he might awaken Great Sakatha from his slumber.”

“It is not so simple as that,” said the snake man. “With Whitebone on his way, he brings not only his power to the task but also that of the delusional mistress who currently occupies the throne in the Abyss. Against undead armies we might well lose the staff forever and potentially Great Sakatha himself might fall under her sway. This must not happen. We might be able to use the freeriders to our advantage. Let them take the staff back with them to their capital and then wrest it away for delivery to the high priest.”

“That is a dangerous course,” said the darkling.

“There are no easy paths,” said the snake creature with a little hiss. “There never are. Both of the children of dragon are dead and we don’t have access to the dreams of the Toxic One anymore. The staff is somewhere nearby but under who knows how many tons of rock in some hidden chamber of the Old Empire. Your excavators work hard but without those dreams we are simply flailing about like a blind man in a brothel.”

“As you so correctly point out, master,” said the hooded creature with a shrug of his shoulders and the two men began to move again and quickly left Sorus’s view. “There is much rock and even with great effort the chances of stumbling on the site is unlikely. Given enough time the slaves will dig into the right chamber but the work is difficult and killing them is a costly procedure. We have to bring up new ones from the lower levels and train them in the use of the tools.”

“I’m well aware …,” said the sibilant voice that slowly trailed off into the distance as the creatures continued their conversation, but Sorus could no longer hear them.

The hours passed slowly after that and the young knight of Elekargul began to get cramps in his left calf at about the same times the ants penetrated his defenses and began to clamor up his right leg. He gritted his teeth and bore the discomfort for a time but began to shift restlessly as the minutes dragged slowly by. “It’s been like eight hours,” he said to himself in a small whisper but a look at the shadows cast by the trees told a different story. “By the Mare, not even midday yet,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll be bitten to death by the time they get back.” After a bit longer he decided to change the dressing on his wounded head and carefully unwrapped the bandage, put a splash of the liquor on it, which almost made him shriek in agony, and then tried to rewrap it. The bleeding seemed to have stopped at least, although as soon as the sharp pain cooled, the dull ache returned.

More time dragged by with no sign of any activity when he suddenly felt a strange presence in the clearing and then a tall shadow fell across it as he peered through the rocks and held his breath.

“Lord Whitebone,” said a quiet voice that sounded like the snake creature but might not be the same as the one earlier.

“Speak serpent mage,” said a cold voice without any inflexion.

“This is where the second group of knights camped,” said the snake creature. “Our goblin servants attacked them in the night, slew one of their numbers, and took the map. I fear that there will soon be more of them in the region. They know about the Staff of Sakatha and clearly have their own designs upon it.”

“The survivors fled?” said Whitebone.

“That is accurate, Lord Whitebone,” said the snake mage in its sibilant voice. “I sent some of the goblins down after them to make sure they did indeed move off the mountain. But, as I said, I’m sure they will return with reinforcements. My own darkling allies are unreliable on the surface. If you could loan me some of your undead warriors I might make an effective defense.”

“The first group you captured,” said the first voice as the two suddenly moved into the clearing and gave Sorus his first look at the skeletal master, Lord Whitebone. He looked like a normal man with a heavy cloak, boots, and thick gloves but one look at the skull that served as his head made it clear this was not the case. Sorus again managed to keep his gasp mostly muffled but for a moment it appeared the strange boney creature looked in his direction.

“Sadly, my message of their capture was premature, Lord Whitebone,” said the snake beast. “The entire group died in the battle along with a number of darklings and the last of the dragon children. We no longer have access to the dreams of the great green dragon.”

Whitebone turned to the creature and stared at him for a long minute and even Sorus could see a faint red glow around the eye orbitals. “I want the creatures that killed my dragon, serpent priest. You can have the staff for your own ends if you desire, but I shall have vengeance upon those that slew my dragon.”

The snake mage gave a strange little hissing sort of laugh and flicked its tongue out several times, “As you wish Lord Whitebone. I can bring forward the slave who stumbled across the scene of your pet’s death but there are no witnesses as to the men who did it.”

“That is not good enough,” said Whitebone. “Once you have the staff you have in your power the ability to raise great Sakatha not as an undead minion to that vile creature in the Abyss but as a living dragon child capable of leading your people in the new empire. Great Sakatha has much knowledge of the Old Empire buried in his brain and this is an incalculable advantage.”

“I am not a child of the dragon,” said the snake creature. “I am a child of great Nechustan the World Snake. The children of dragons are our slaves and have been ever since the fall of the Old Empire.”

“Of course,” said Whitebone with a strange little bow. “How terribly ignorant of me to forget that fact. Yet, you work with the lizards who want the staff to bring back Sakatha as a living entity.”

“Just as you work with the Mistress of the Abyss who wants to bring back Sakatha in his undead state and thus increase her own power,” said the snake creature. “We are all looking for our own advantage; perhaps you and I can work together in this case. I do not wish either your mistress or the lizards to have the staff. My people want it for another purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?” said Lord Whitebone as he turned to face his companion.

“I am not willing to divulge that Lord Whitebone,” the snake man replied, “perhaps if you told me your own plans for the thing I might prove more accommodating.”

Whitebone laughed, a clack of sorts, and shook his head no, “A valid argument. No, I do not want the staff in the hands of the eternal ruler of the Abyss. You haven’t seen a dark cloud of a creature named Tenebrous hanging about by any chance?”

The child of Nechustan shook its head for a moment, “I’ve heard the name but never had the pleasure of meeting the thing myself. I understand it escaped from the Deathlands a dozen times before the Mistress of the Abyss allowed it stay?”

“I’m not particularly familiar with its history,” said Whitebone with a shrug. “In any case, if you see the creature, inform it that I want a meeting with it.”

“As you command, Lord Whitebone,” said the snake beast starting to say something else when the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from down the path. Within a few moments the footsteps came close, then suddenly stopped and although Sorus could not see the creature, a third party joined the conversation.

It began to speak in some sort of strange language that Sorus did not understand, but the snake creature gave it a sharp rebuke and it then started talking with a strange accent in the language of the local traders. “Master Shill, Master Shill,” said the voice.

“What is it?” said the snake.

“They return, the big one and the freerider,” said the voice. “They come quickly, they surprised us, they killed …,” it went on apparently ready to continue its speech.

“I do not care who they killed,” said the snake creature. “Lord Whitebone, we must make haste back to the old ruin before they catch us here.”

The skeletal creature looked at the snake man for a moment, then turned his gaze to the hastily constructed cairn, looked around in all directions and, for a moment, his hot red eyes seemed to come to rest on the exact spot where Sorus lay hidden. “I,” it said, “I sense something.”

“We cannot wait,” said the snake creature.

“They’re coming,” said the goblin, its voice quaking with fear, “you didn’t see the big one with his awful sword, Smasher. He killed my brother!”

Whitebone waited a moment longer, his terrible gaze finally lifted from Sorus’s hidden spot, and darted to a small rocky outcropping above them, but then nodded his head. He started to say something but turned with a twirl of his heavy cloak and the group was gone from Sorus’s vision. Just a few minutes later Jon and Proteus trotted up the trail, their horses making enough noise to wake the dead.

Jon came into the clearing first and looked around, “Sorus? Did it work?”

Sorus popped his head out from the rocks, a huge grin on his face. “Better than I ever imagined,” he said and then began to slap at his leg where apparently the entire colony of ants had decided to roost. “I’m infested!”

Chapter 16

“We should attack the little village and slay them all,” said Melharras Yushhha as his spectacularly bedecked uniform glistened in the sunlight that shone at the edge of the large cavern. The less finely dressed priest of Sakatha, Usharra Dushallama, stood a step back in the shadows and the sounds of reptile men filtered from further back in the cave.

“Our job,” said Usharra not for the first time, “is to get to the Mountains of the Orc where the dreams of Chusaursea guide us to the Staff of Sakatha. It is not to engage the Freeriders in battle.”

“Battle,” said Melharras with a sneer as his lips curled back and exposed long, sharp teeth. “They are but women and children. The scout told us that two days ago when he first encountered the little village. Their warriors wait in the flats, bicker with one another, and stink so foully that the birds refuse to nest in the trees near them. We descend on the village, take a few prisoners, then lure the men into an ambush and kill them all. It is a simple matter really,” finished the general with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

“And when the entire nation of Freeriders comes to avenge this affront?” said Usharra.

“We shall already be in the Mountains of the Orc with the Staff of Sakatha in our possession. With the staff you, no doubt, can wield enough power to defeat such simple barbarians,” said the general and smiled at the priest. “I grow weary of traveling at night and avoiding detection by these people. They are weak and need to feel the poison of our bite!”

“Moving this many warriors at night to avoid alerting the inhabitants of this land are our orders nevertheless,” said the priest with a shrug of his soldiers. “The Mountains of the Orc are but two or three more nights of travel ahead. Perhaps you can cool your fighting ardor until then. I suspect that your soldiers will find themselves with quite a bit to do once we arrive in the mountains.”

“I find your cowardice quite distasteful,” said General Melharras in a rather bored tone, “and I shall report such when we return to Darag’dal.”

“I would think your braggadocio might be lessened after watching a third of your fighting force drown off the coast last week,” said High Priest Usharra in an equally bored tone of voice.

“Warriors die,” said Melharras as he turned to face the priest. “A veteran like me knows that most of them die of disease or mishap and only the smallest percentage die in combat or of their wounds. Besides, many of them managed to swim to the other two ships so it was hardly a third of my entire force.”

“Your compassion for your fellow soldiers is admirable,” said Usharra and turned away from the general with a shake of his head.

“Your foolish sentimentality is distressing, Usharra,” said Melharras as he followed the priest and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “We are here to do a job and that is all. If men die then they die. If you die then I take command. Now that we’re off those vessels I allow you to command, but I will tolerate it for only so much longer. If I wished to kill the women and children of that town I would do so and there is nothing you can do to stop me. Have I made myself clear to you, priest?”

“I understood you from the very beginning of this operation, general,” said Usharra and brushed the hand off his shoulder with a sudden movement. “While I understand that setting aside our differences is impossible, I do think we must coordinate our ascent of the mountain. I find the dreams of the Toxic One most erratic of late and particularly unhelpful. We need to make a plan in the event we cannot immediately find the Staff of Sakatha. I have strong indications that there are others interested in the item and they will fight us for it.”

“If you find the dreams difficult to interpret then I suppose Chusarausea chooses that to be the case,” said the general with a smile that revealed his long rows of sharp teeth. He put his hand on his sword hilt, “I take it as a sign that you’ve fallen out of favor with the dragon and with the tribal elders. That being the case, I see no real reason you are of use to this expedition at all.” With that the tall reptile pulled out his sword and took a step back.

Usharra took three steps back himself, raised his hands, and began to mutter magical words when a low cough interrupted them.

The general turned towards a smallish reptile man with scales colored largely a dull gray with a few patches of black, “What do you want?”

“It’s that reconnaissance you sent out, general,” said the boy with a squeak in his voice. “They met up with some Freeriders and there was a battle.”

“What reconnaissance?” said Usharra.

The boy looked at the priest, his eyes wide and then looked back at the general but said nothing.

“Damn you Melharras, if you destroyed our chance to get the staff in order to gain some personal glory I’ll …,” he stood for a moment incapable of putting thoughts to words as the heavily armed general stood ready to strike with his sword.

“You’ll what?” said the red and purple scaled warrior, “you’ll nothing. Sound the conchs,” he said and turned to the young soldier. “We’ll kill these Freeriders and then travel during the day to the Mountains of the Orc like proud warriors, not like snakes slinking to their nest.”

The boy ran off at a gallop and the general turned to Usharra. “I should just kill you now, but my troops need me. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be gone by the time we get back from killing the Freeriders. I’d offer to bring back one of their women for you but I’m not sure that’s to your taste.” With that the general followed the boy back into the cave although the sounds of conch shells already echoed back and forth along the passage.

“By Sakatha that fool will kill us all,” said Usharra to himself. “I must gather the loyal priests and the naval crew. We need to head directly to the mountains or all is lost!”

Chapter 17

“Where did they get themselves to?” said Odellius his breath coming in heavy pants as he and a dozen other knights of Elekargul stopped for a moment in their chase.

“I don’t know,” said Thaddeus. “Once the mayor joined us, who knows why he left the safety of town in the first place, things have been a shambles. That damn fool just charged after them into the darkness. We need to coordinate, but nobody is listening. We’re all on our civilian twelve month and no one wants to take orders from anyone else. We don’t have a command structure.”

“I know Thaddeus, I know. How many men followed the mayor after the creatures?” he said with a shake of his head as his breath slowly returned to a normal pattern.

“At least half of us,” said the hobgoblin brew master as he also shook his head and fingered the sword at his side.

“All right,” said Odellius and put his hand to his massive stomach. “Get everyone who is left gathered and we’ll advance silently. If those lobsters jump into a pot of trouble we’ll hear the fighting and charge up as a reserve force.”

“Yes, sir,” said Thaddeus as clenching his fist and raising it in salute.

A few minutes later forty men stood at the ready with Odellius in the lead. “All right men,” said the rotund warrior. “The mayor went chasing with the rest of the fellows so I’m taking command. I know the First Rider hasn’t authorized any of us to use military force but it is as it is. Does anyone object?”

No one dissented and after a few seconds Odellius nodded his head. “Excellent, we’re going to move forward at a walk, no noise, and keep listening for the sounds of battle up ahead. If you hear anything don’t go charging off into the night. Say something to a neighbor and I’ll issue orders. Understood?”

The men nodded and clenched their fist in the same manner Thaddeus did a moment before. “Now, let’s move out,” ordered Odellius.

They spread out into a skirmisher’s formation and walked silently into the night, their swords in hand, and ears cocked to listen for anything except the crickets and occasional hoot of an owl.

It didn’t take long to hear the strange almost kitchen like sounds of sword play and then a shout from some Elekargulian, “To me, to me! Knights of Elekargul.”

“Hold your position,” said Odellius in a loud voice but not a shout. “We’ll move around and flank them. Hit ‘em in the side. They’re reptile men, they don’t much like battling on land and don’t maneuver well. Watch out for their tails, they can trip you with a sweep. Now, come along and behave like knights, not little girls!” He continued and then began to move to the left in a wide maneuver.

The knights followed him silently into the cool evening and within another minute a new eruption of cries roared out as they attacked the reptile army from the flank.

Chapter 18

“They’re all after the Staff of Sakatha,” said Sorus as he finished with the ants. The young lad immediately flailed his arms and fell on his backside, “whoa.”

Jon walked over with two tremendous strides and knelt next to Sorus, “You’ve been lying down for six hours, Sorus. Take it easy,” he said and held the boy around the shoulders to steady him.

“They just left, a skeleton thing and a snake thing, they’re the leaders, we can catch them!” said Sorus and pointed off in the direction the two went only moments before. “But they’re not on the same side. I think there are like five or six sides and no one knows where the staff is hidden. They were talking about dreams and dragons and things. They need the children of dragons to interpret the dreams from some dragon that will tell them where the staff is hidden,” he blurted out all in a rush.

Proteus looked to Jon who looked back at the older knight and both men shrugged at the same moment. “Are you ready for a chase?” said Jon to Sorus as he turned back to the young man and released his hold.

Sorus put his hand to his sword hilt and rose unsteadily, “Of course I am. I … I just got a bit dizzy standing up so quickly. If we want to get that staff then we have to go right now.”

Jon nodded and smiled, “You’ve the warrior spirit all right Sorus, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it, and there is no doubt in my mind that Proteus there, Brokenshield or no, has the same. Now, the only question I have is; how do you kill a skeleton thing and a snake thing?” With that Jon started off down the path and then looked back to Sorus, “They did head this way, didn’t they?”

Sorus looked down the narrow trail and thought about it for a moment, “I guess, I mean the only other direction is back down the slope.”

“Good enough,” said Jon and dashed up the mountain trail.

“Follow him,” said Proteus as he busied himself with the saddle bags attached to the horses, “I’ll gather some supplies in case we end up gone overnight. Go on, Sorus, I’ll catch up.”

Sorus started to run after Jon but felt a sudden onset of nausea and slowed his pace for a moment, “Jon, slow down and wait for us!” he called out.

It took Proteus several minutes to get water, food, and other supplies from the horses and then he paused for a moment and stared at the beasts. “I’ll leave you free, head down the mountain if we’re not back in a day or so,” he said to the horses and shook his head. “I’m an old fool still talking to horses after all these years,” and with that went after Sorus and Jon. It only took him about five minutes to catch up with the two as they stood near a rocky overhang in animated discussion. They saw him coming and motioned him up with a wave of their hands.

“Goblins or orcs,” said Jon and pointed with his finger around the corner. “I sniffed out an ambush.”

“Well done, Jon,” said Proteus, “how did you spot them?”

Jon pointed to a crossbow bolt on the dirt trail just to their right, “I cleverly drew their fire,” replied the young warrior.

“It’s a good thing they didn’t wait until you were completely in the open,” said Proteus as he glanced at the wicked barb for a moment, “were you hit at all?”

Jon shook his head, “One shot went between my legs, and I think I heard the other whistle by my ear but no hits. Pretty poor shooting considering the size of the target.”

“So,” said Proteus with a look up towards the rock that sheltered them from the ambushers and then squinted at the afternoon sun in the opposite direction, “two of them and they’ve picked the wrong time of day for this location.”

“I only saw the two bolts,” said Sorus also who followed Proteus’s gaze at the position of the sun. “I don’t see any way they can work around to a firing position on us,” he continued and pointed to the large overhang above them. “They’ll just wait up there until we make our move unless they’ve got wizards to collapse the rocks on us.”

“I’d guess they are close to wherever the skeleton and snake thing went to ground,” said Proteus with a shrug. “It’s a terrible spot for ambush this time of day and the mountain has so many hidden spots it’s ridiculous that they chose this one.”

“They could just be stupid,” suggested Jon. “I don’t know about the goblins and orcs in this area but some of them around Tanelorn are fairly dim.”

“No,” said Proteus, “they might not be the most intelligent but in military matters they know their business. The only reason they set up the ambush right there is because they had to do it. I think our friends are just up beyond the rise. Sadly, that doesn’t get us past the ambushers. The sun at our backs is probably what saved you, Jon,” he continued and looked back towards the slowly setting orb of light. “We can’t count on that for much longer.”

“You’re right, Proteus,” said Jon and nodded his head with a look back at the sun. “We need to find a way past them and right now,” the young knight of gray looked around and shrugged his shoulders. “If I had my heavy shield I could just charge them and hope for the best but I don’t like my odds in this chain. Those heavy bolts will just punch straight through.”

“There’s no sense talking about things we don’t have,” said Proteus his hand on his chin as he looked at the overhang. “How high up is the lip on that rock?” he said and took a step back which almost exposed him to the crossbow fire.

“Careful, Proteus,” said Sorus, putting his hand on the older man, and pulling him gently back into cover. “No sense in getting killed before we make a move.”

Proteus looked back and smiled, “I’ve been watering crops for too long Sorus, thank you. I figured that someone tall enough might give someone spry enough a boost, and they might get over that lip and come up on the ambushers from behind.”

Jon looked up and nodded his head, “I can get you most of the way there, Sorus but you’ll have to do some scrambling,” he paused, leaned backwards, and looked over the rocky outcropping. “Maybe right there by that little indentation that looks like a duck feather, you could grab ahold and haul yourself up?”

Sorus leaned back but shook his head, “I can’t see it Jon, but I trust you. Hoist me up and let’s get going!” he continued as he sheathed his sword and rubbed his hands together quickly.

Jon kneeled down, “Sit up on my shoulders, when I stand get on your feet, and we’ll see how close that gets you,” he said.

“Be careful not to move too far to the right, Sorus,” said Proteus, “you might expose yourself to fire from up the hill.”

Sorus climbed onto Jon’s shoulders like a young boy on his father and then Jon stood up pushing the newly made knight of Elkargul high into the air. Sorus then put his hand on the rock face and balanced as he climbed to his feet on Jon’s shoulders. “I’m about six inches short of a good handhold,” said Sorus and looked down over his left shoulder to Jon.

The big gray knight put his hands up by his shoulders, palms up, “Stand on my hands,” he said and tapped Sorus on the ankle. “I’ll boost you up further. I think we can manage that last little bit.”

Sorus did as instructed and Jon pushed up with his hands and lifted the one hundred sixty pound boy as if he were no more than a small child; Proteus watched with a shake of his head. Jon extended his arms straight up, which lifted Sorus the extra inches, the boy found a purchase, and scrambled up the rock face like a spider. Jon felt the weight leave his hands and turned to Proteus, “is he up?”

Proteus nodded his head, “Maybe we should have given him a rope to haul us up. He’s going to have to take those ambushers by himself.”

“Do you have a rope?” said Jon and turned to the older knight.

“I brought one from the horses when you and Sorus dashed off a second ago,” he said and pointed to the saddle bag that lay in the shade of the rocky outcropping. “We might be days underground looking for the staff.”

Jon shook his head and laughed, “You’re right,” he said with a wry smile. “Sorus and I just went through that without any supplies at all. I can’t believe I forgot again.”

“You do seem a bit headstrong, Jon,” said Proteus, “if you don’t mind me saying. You’re a powerful man and probably pretty used to having things go your way, right?”

Jon nodded, “I know what you’re going to say,” he said. “My father always tells me to stop and think before I leap. It’s not as easy to stop when something needs to get done. My father always says its men of action that get things done in the world, not philosophers.”

“That’s all true,” said Proteus as the two continued their conversation, although both of them thought about Sorus who even now worked his way to position behind the ambushers. “Maybe we should be men of action and give those fellows up the hill a target just to distract them?”

Jon nodded, “I was thinking the same thing Proteus. We could dash across the trail to that spot over there, the cover is not as good, but it might look like we’re trying to work our way up to their position.”

Proteus nodded, “That should work, but keep your head down once we get there, don’t even try and take a look. I’ve seen men hit in the eye looking around a corner.”

Jon nodded and moved to the edge of the little outcropping, “Ready?”

Proteus nodded.

“One, two, three!” said Jon sprinting across the trail in a dash with Proteus right behind. A pair of crossbow bolts flew behind them after they took cover and then another one splattered the rock behind which they hid. The crack of the bolt against the rock caused both men to duck as they lay on the ground with their heads down. Jon’s foot stuck out just enough and another bolt hit the earth near it which caused him to curl up in a position like a little baby.

“Stop hogging all the cover,” said Proteus as another crossbow bolt skittered past them and down the trail.

“There’s more of me to cover,” said Jon with a laugh as Proteus put an elbow in the midsection of the young knight. “Stop poking me!”

Proteus laughed as two more bolts flew over their heads. One ricocheted off the rocks behind them, and landed on his leg. He picked it up with his right hand and brought it to his face for close examination. “Decent quality on this bolt,” he said as he turned it over. “It looks like orc manufacture from Adas Jdar beyond the mountains,” he concluded. “Do you see the two different metals here at the back?”

Jon scrunched his body to look at the bolt as he raised his head slightly, although he carefully kept it behind their cover, “That little bulge?”

“Right,” said Proteus. “You’ve been trained with weapons haven’t you?”

“Swords, lances, and a little bow work but nothing with a crossbow,” said Jon as he ducked instinctively when another bolt buzzed through the air over their heads. “Do you suppose Sorus could hurry up?”

“He might have to go a long way around,” said Proteus, “to get behind them. You should learn as much about all weaponry as possible even if you’re not going to use it. The more you know the better tactics you can devise against it. Now, these bolts use iron for the main body but with lead at the back to even out the weight. That’s typical of orcs across the mountain in Adas Jdar. We like to just thicken the entire bolt with a single material here in Elekargul because it makes the structure stronger.”

“Why even the weight?” said Jon as a particularly well-aimed bolt dug into the ground a few inches from his foot.

“Arrows tend to rise in flight because of the feathers in their tails so you have to weight them heavier at the front. Heavy tips do this naturally and add more penetrating power. When you apply the same principals to bolts they tend to sink too fast so you have to make them more evenly weighted for true flight,” said Proteus as another bolt skittered off the rock and sent a small cloud of pebbles down on the two.

“They seem to be getting the range pretty well,” said Jon and spat some dust out of his mouth. “Should we make a dash for that spot up the hill?”

“They’ll expect that,” said Proteus. “Why not roll off the face and down the hillside over there,” he said and motioned with his chin. “That will give you more cover and you can advance up the side of the hill.”

“True,” said Jon, “but they’ll be able to maneuver around and fire at me from a good angle.”

“If they change their position that might give Sorus the opportunity he needs to jump them,” said Proteus.

“Good point,” said Jon, “and to be honest, I’m getting a little tired of getting shot at without doing anything. I’m going to roll down that way. Once they take a couple of shots you can follow me or head up the trail while they’re focused on me.”

Proteus nodded, “Got it. Go whenever you’re ready.”

With that Jon suddenly rolled to his right, pushed off the ground with his hands, and got to his feet in a flash. He dove forward and off the edge of the hillside onto a steep slope while Proteus immediately dashed forward before the ambushers fired at Jon but he did hear the whiz of two bolts behind him a moment later. He reached the advanced point without incident and then called out to Jon, “Are you all right?”

“I’m good,” Jon shouted across the trail. “They’ll be moving into position to get at me in a second. I’ll tell you when I see them and you can make a dash.”

“If they’re smart,” said Proteus, “one will move to position while the other keeps his eye on me. If there are only two of them.”

A few moments passed without a sound as Proteus waited for word from Jon and the big gray knight watched a rock platform about fifty yards up the hill from his current position.

“He should be there by now,” said Jon. “I’m going to make a dash. Do you hear anything?”

Just as he spoke a harsh cry sounded from up ahead and Proteus immediately pulled his sword from its scabbard and charged up the hill. Jon, in an awkward position, needed to climb back onto the trail before he followed but, once up, quickly gained ground as his massive strides gobbled up the distance like a champion race horse in full flight.

Proteus got to the ambush spot and found a heavyset orc in thick leather armor studded with metal face down on the ground blood spurting from a wound under its arm. A heavy wooden crossbow with two dozen bolts laid out neatly on the rock sat nearby. A moment later Sorus appeared around the corner and smiled at Proteus. “I got this one from behind but the other one saw me coming, dropped his gear, and ran up the hill. I got him in the leg and tossed his crossbow off the side of the mountain. He crawled off but there’s a cave right back that way. I passed it when I came around. I’m sure that’s where the snake creature and the skeleton thing went.”

At that moment Jon suddenly appeared from around the corner his huge stone sword in one hand and a grin on his face. “Chattering away like ladies,” he said with a smile.

“The work’s all done,” said Proteus and clapped Sorus on the back. “Our young Nightwalk managed to kill this one here and chased the other one off. We were just deciding if we wanted to pursue or look into the cave where our real foes went.”

Jon looked up the trail for a moment, “The crossbowman doesn’t matter,” he said. “Where is this cave?”

“I’ll catch up,” said Proteus as he turned and sprinted back down the trail.

“Where’s he going?” said Sorus to Jon who watched the older knight dash around a corner and vanish from site.

“He’s getting the saddle bags,” said Jon. “With our equipment in case we get stuck underground again. We should have thought of that.”

Sorus nodded his head, “Especially because we just made that mistake a couple of days ago.”

“Proteus will catch up,” said Jon with a nod and a smile, “Where is the cave?”

“This way,” said Sorus and pointed up a little path that led away from the main trail. “I’m sorry it took so long,” he said as they walked. “I ran into a big bunch of scrub brush with thorns and had to go around. Then I got a little lost,” he admitted as he looked forward up the narrow trail. “I ended up too far up the trail and didn’t know if I was ahead of them or behind them so I went back around again.”

“You did just fine,” said Jon. “It’s easy to lose direction in these hills and you came through in the end. Stabbing a fellow from behind is never easy either,” said the gray knight, his own massive strides easily keeping up with Sorus as they ascended the little game trail. “It doesn’t seem honorable but when it comes down to someone living and someone dying it needs doing at times.”

Sorus looked back at the gray knight for a moment and smiled, “I didn’t think about it too much. I saw him there pointing his crossbow down towards the trail and just did it. Here, right up here is the cave. I didn’t get much of a chance to look at it but, like Proteus said, why else would they set up the ambush at this spot?” he said and pointed to a narrow crack in the cliff face.

“There could be another opening further up,” said Jon, but Sorus shook his head.

“There could be,” he replied, “but why not start here?”

Jon nodded. “We’ll have to wait for Proteus, I’m guessing he has flint to start a fire. I’ve got a light stone,” he continued and pulled out an egged-sized piece of crystalline rock of a strange purple color. “Stone of light, show the path!” he said in a quick mantra.

“You can do magic,” said Sorus looking at Jon with wide-opened eyes.

“Not really,” said Jon. “My brother Val made this for me and taught me the command words,” he continued as the rock began to glow with a dim light. “When we get into darkness it gets brighter. Let me go in first, you wait for Proteus. I’ll call out if there’s anyone waiting to say hello.”

Sorus nodded as Jon, rock in one hand and thick gray sword in the other darted forward into the dark. He had to duck and turn his body sideways to enter the narrow crevasse but disappeared within it a moment later. Sorus stood at the entrance and looked first to the entrance and then down the trail and then back again to the cave. The seconds seemed to pass slowly as his heart beat heavily in his chest and he remembered his blade plunging into the back of the crossbowman and then the pursuit of the second. He didn’t feel any regret about doing, it but a strange sense of sadness overcame him as he pictured the dead orc in the rocks. When Proteus suddenly appeared it caught him by surprise and he jumped back.

“Where’s Jon?” said the older knight, a saddlebag over his shoulder but sword still one hand.

“In there,” said Sorus with a motion to the cave. “He went ahead and told me to stay and wait for you.”

“Makes sense,” said Proteus and with that pulled a small stone from his pack, tapped it twice, and then waited a few seconds as it began to glow.

“Does everyone have one of those except me?” said Sorus as he shook his head.

Proteus pulled a second rock out of the bag and handed it to the young knight, “Tap it twice to activate it and then twice more to turn it off,” he said. “Now you have one of your own.”

Sorus took the rock and copied the motions Proteus made and soon the little stone began to glow noticeably.

“Come along,” said Proteus as he ducked into the narrow opening. “We can’t let Jon get all the glory.”

Sorus watched him for a moment and then went in after, although he did not have to duck his head or turn sideways to enter. A moment later he found himself next to Proteus in a large chamber where sparkling lights seemed to glow in the rocks like stars. “Do you see him?”

Proteus lifted the hand that held the stone and pointed to a little glowing light that came from below them and seemed to bounce along like a ball across the ground. “Don’t call out; the noise can carry a long way down here. Watch your feet,” he continued as he pointed to a rock-strewn path that led down towards the bottom of the large cavern. “It’s easy to trip in the dark and I don’t want you cracking open that skull of yours again.”

“Right,” said Sorus with a smile as his hand started to go to his head, but the stone occupied one while his sword occupied the other, and he was unable to check on the bandages. “Forward then,” he finally said and started the treacherous descent. “We can’t let Jon get too far ahead, he’s a bit reckless that one,” he concluded.

Proteus laughed, “You could say that, but when you’re seven foot tall with a sword like that who can blame him for a little overconfidence,” he said and followed Sorus gingerly down the narrow pass. At a couple of spots rock overhangs seemed to show signs of work as if someone cleared the way just enough to allow passage but not enough to make it easy. After a few long minutes and a couple of near tumbles they arrived at the base of the cavern where long rock columns extended from the ceiling in glorius displays of orange and silver almost like a stone waterfall.

“It’s beautiful,” said Sorus as he stopped for a moment to gaze up and around in all directions. “The other cave wasn’t like this.”

Proteus nodded and pointed to a long walkway that lay in front of them. “Someone smoothed that out,” he said, “but keep cautious. These caves usually have centipedes so don’t just put your hand anywhere. They’re poisonous as can be.”

Sorus nodded and went forward as his eyes scanned to the left and right before he peered ahead. Down below he couldn’t see Jon’s light bobbing ahead anymore since the wall of the cave bulged out and blocked off the view. “I don’t see Jon,” he said as he moved forward steadily and almost ran headlong into the young gray knight as he came from the other direction. Sorus jumped backwards and smashed into Proteus, knocking the light stone out of his hand to the floor, where it skittered into a narrow crevice and vanished.

“Damn,” said Proteus.

“Sorry,” said Sorus.

“Quiet,” said Jon. “There are some guards posted ahead. Strange creatures, darklings I think.”

Proteus looked up to the tall lad and spotted a heavy smudge of dirt on his cheek, a bruise already apparent above his eye, and a scratch on his cheek that didn’t bleed but looked painful. “What happened to you?” he said and reached forward with his now free hand to brush back the long sandy locks.

“I tripped coming down that passage,” said Jon as he pointed back towards the narrow entrance. “It’s trickier than it looks.”

Sorus smiled and almost laughed out loud but managed to stifle the impulse. “You youngsters always leap without looking,” he said and reached up to touch Jon on the shoulder.

Jon’s eyes flashed a momentary fierceness that caused Sorus to take a step back but then softened as his mouth opened in a wide smile, “Right you are, Sorus,” he whispered, “I could take lessons from a mature old knight like you.”

“What kind of creatures are they?” said Proteus, “how many, and how well armed.”

“I’ve never seen the like before,” said Jon, “I got lucky to see their light before they saw mine. It’s dim and red but I managed to get a pretty good look at them after I tucked my light under my cloak. They’re about fifty yards that way,” he continued in a low tone. “They look like bears mostly I suppose, great furry things, they have stone clubs. I saw two of them but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more.”

“Any chance of sneaking up on them without them seeing us,” said Proteus using Jon’s whispered tone.

Jon shook his head, “Not that I saw. It’s a pretty straight shot to a low arch where they’re waiting. I’d guess that beyond that is darkling land but who can say? Our best chance is to just charge forward and kill them. The pass opens up a little and there’s room for two of us to get at them at the same time.”

“Sorus,” said Proteus, “any suggestions?”

The young knight of Elekargul shook his head, “I don’t see anything else to do.”

“Agreed,” said Proteus. “Sorus, you had your glory up at the ambush point, do you mind if Jon and I take this one?”

Sorus frowned, “Well, if you put it that way, I suppose not. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Try to be as quiet as possible about it,” said Proteus to Jon. “If there are more of them back there we don’t want the whole tribe coming down on us. Sorus, when we get close try and shine the light stone in their eyes, darkling creatures don’t like it bright.”

Sorus nodded and then Jon looked at Proteus, “Ready?”

Proteus nodded and Jon turned and walked quickly around the corner with the older knight right behind. Sorus brought up the rear as they moved down the corridor to a narrow spot where Jon stopped for a moment and held up his hand. The young knight of gray looked back to Proteus and Sorus and nodded his head as he pointed around the corner. “A dozen strides maybe,” he said in a whisper and put his light stone in his pocket, “One, two, three,” he finished and suddenly darted out and around the corner. Proteus was right on his heels and Sorus, the light stone held high, dashed around last.

Coming around the corner the former brewer spotted the creatures right away. Just as Jon described, there were two of them under a natural rock archway beyond which a red glow emanated. Dark fur covered both creatures although the dim red light muted any hope of discernment of their true color. They stood about as tall as a man stands and wore only light cloth pants and a leather vest that gave them little protection. Both looked up at the approach of Jon, their eyes suddenly hugely wide as they grabbed heavy stone clubs that leaned against the archway to either side of them.

Jon was upon them even as they growled, a strange rumble sort of sound that seemed to reverberate through Sorus’s body, and moved forward to meet the young knight of Tanelorn. Proteus moved ahead also, and suddenly blocked Sorus’s view of events, which seemed somehow slowed down to a crawl, and he only managed to catch a flash of movment ahead before the Brokenshield moved out of the way. Sorus saw one of the bear creatures stagger forward to his knees as a gush of blood jetted from a wound along its neck. The second creature swung its heavy stone club at Jon who moved forward and was hit by only the very narrowest part of its shaft on the ribs although he gave off a great low grunt in any case. Jon lowered his arm swiftly and trapped the creature’s weapon under it as Proteus moved forwards as his own blade swung down towards the head of the beast. The creature looked at the descending blade and its eyes grew even wider as it tried to tug away. Finally, it simply let go of the club and raised its hand in a defensive motion. Proteus’s blade chopped the blocking arm off at the elbow and buried deeply in the forehead of the creature between the eyes. The beast plunged backwards with a convulsive movement and fell to the ground with a thump where it twitched a couple of times although it never uttered a word.

The second creature’s hand covered the wound on its throat, which did little to quench the spurts of blood, and watched open-eyed for a moment until Jon walked over and almost casually crushed its skull with a flick of his wrist as the flat side of his massive blade crashed down with terrible force.

The crack of the blow seemed to wake Sorus and events suddenly seemed to resume at their normal speed.

“Nicely done, Jon,” said Proteus and moved up next to the young knight. “Are your ribs all right?”

Jon lifted his arm and the club slipped out although Proteus reached forward with a hand, grabbed it before it hit the floor, and then lowered it gently to the ground. Jon stretched his left side over and pursed his lips, “I’m good,” he said, “it only hit me with the handle, hurt a bit at the moment though.”

“Quiet,” said Proteus and put his finger to his lips. “Keep the light stones away, we can see well enough. I’m going ahead for a second to see what’s there, you two wait for me and see if those creatures have anything valuable on them,” he finished and pointed to the two dead-bear like darklings on the floor.

Jon leaned over, gave off a little grunt of pain, reached into a satchel around the waist of one of the creatures and pulled out a flask, a small clam shell of some kind, and a beaker of some sort of liquid. He opened the flask, brought it to his nose carefully, and smiled, “alcohol.”

Sorus went to the second creature who wore a similar satchel around its waist and detached it with a quick motion. Inside was another flask much like the one Jon took, a small pouch that chinked when Sorus touched it, and another bag filled with something soft that smelled musky when the young knight brought it to his nose. “There are some coins here,” he said and looked up at Jon with a smile, “and more of that whiskey I’d guess.”

At that moment Proteus appeared at the entrance to the natural cavern, a strange look on his face. His eyes were open wide to see in the darkness, his teeth clenched, and his jaw tight as his eyes darted back and forth between Jon and Sorus.

“What is it, Proteus,” asked Sorus while Jon continued to examine the items found on the strange bear creatures.

“It’s like you said, Sorus,” said the knight with a nod of his head. “It’s a skeleton of some sorts, wearing robes, and a creature that looks like a human snake. They’re down the passage a bit. It’s darkling made for certain. The natural cavern ends not far past the archway here,” he continued and pointed to the natural formation above their heads. “I couldn’t hear them but they seemed to be arguing about something. There are more exits from where they’re at so if we want to attack them, now’s the time.”

“If,” said Jon and looked at Proteus with raised eyebrows.

“They look …,” started the older knight with a shrug his shoulders, “they look like they are perfectly capable of defending themselves. The skeleton wears a sword but the snake is a wizard or a priest I’d bet.”

“We could just follow them,” said Sorus as he looked back and forth to the two men. “They don’t know where the staff is either but they might lead us to it eventually.”

“Down here, among the darkings,” said Jon with a shake of his head. “It’s too dangerous, we’ll be spotted soon enough and have them down on us like a hoard of grasshoppers. We take them out now and see if we can get information from them after that.”

“I agree,” said Proteus the strange look still in his eyes, “Do you mind if I say a prayer to the Black Horse first, Jon?” he continued and knelt to the floor.

Jon watched him silently for a moment. Soon Sorus joined Proteus on his knees.

“May my steed be swift, my blade be true, my heart be strong, and my seat steady,” said Proteus from his knees and Sorus said the same. “There,” said Proteus and stood back with a smile at Jon. “My fate is my own.”

Jon nodded, “Lead the way, Proteus; Sorus and I will follow.”

Proteus took his sword in hand and walked steadily past the tall archway and into the red glow beyond. Jon went next and Sorus followed behind in the rear. Jon’s huge body blocked his view for the most part and the young knight of Elekargul strained his eyes in the dim red light to see further ahead. The natural cavern quickly gave way to shaped stone walls and a smooth floor worked to perfection by skilled hands. The red glow came from stones embedded in the walls and Sorus did not notice when Jon suddenly stopped in front of him and he banged into the young knight and bounced backwards a step. Jon didn’t chastise him but simply looked at Proteus, who stood with his hand raised just ahead.

“Right around this bend,” he said in a whisper and lifted his sword. “Now!” he suddenly shouted and dashed around the corner. Jon went next and was instantly out of view of Sorus who charged after. When he turned the corner he saw Proteus already halfway across a narrow chamber where the skeletal creature stood in mid turn and the snake thing still had its back to their approach.

Chapter 19

“We’re lost,” said Thaddeus to Odellius and about a dozen other knights as they stood in a small circle, the moon shining overhead like a baleful eye watching their predicament. Around them the groans of wounded knights and the hisses of reptile men sounded intermittently. “Why don’t they finish us off?” he said to the rotund knight whose face was visibly red even in the darkness and who sat on one knee as his breath came in great gasps.

“We surprised the bastards,” huffed Sir Odellius between labored pants. “Killed more than we had any right,” he continued. “They’ll probably wait for morning to finish us off. The darkness isn’t their friend and they don’t like the terrain.”

“That gives us about an hour,” said Thaddeus, and some of the other men, their eyes hollow and many with wounds on their arms and legs, nodded their heads as well.

“Should we attack or wait to be annihilated?”

“Normally,” said Odellius as his breath becoming more shallow, “I’d say attack and die, but every hour means the chance for more knights to find us,” he finished and put his hand on the ground. “How many are we?”

“I count fifteen able to fight,” said Thaddeus looking around the group just as a dart flew through the air and missed him by a few inches. “Shields up!” he ordered, but the men formed up in a circle with their shields linked to provide protection before he finished.

“I don’t think they want to wait until morning,” said Thaddeus to Odellius with a wry smile. The sound of darts as they clanked off heavy shields sounded almost like thick rain drops hitting a thin metal roof. “Luckily they don’t use crossbows or heavy bows,” he continued, “or this would be over in a few moments.”

“Lucky indeed,” said Odellius just as a lucky dart penetrated the shields and embedded itself in the shoulder of one of the men. The unfortunate soldier stifled a cry of pain and kept his shield in position as another man, inside the circle, moved quickly to attend to the wound. “It’s just a matter of time though,” he continued, “perhaps I should revise my original plan.”

Just then the hail of darts began to slow and within a few moments came to a complete stop. “They are far from home,” said Thaddeus with a hopeful smile. “Perhaps they did not bring a particularly large supply of darts.”

“It is a possibility,” said Odellius and grinned back. “Keep those shields up lads, it might be a trap, but I think we can hold out until morning unless they come at us.”

Over the next hour an occasional dart hissed through the air but there were no more casualties and the warriors rotated the shield men and managed a few moment of fitful sleep as they waited for the dawn and their deaths.

“It’s getting lighter,” said Thaddeus and nudged Odellius whose snores rang out into the early hours of the morning. The rotund mason opened his eyes instantly, looked around to take in the slow lightening of the sky, and nodded his head.

“Are they up yet?” he said with a motion of his hand to the surrounding group of reptiles.

Thaddeus nodded, “I’d guess about a five hundred of them at least, they’ve been yelling at us, apparently some of them know our language. Things about Black Dale and what they’ll do to our wives after they kill us, the normal things.”

Odellius smiled. “Let’s hope they try and make good on that; the First Rider and our men will run them down easily in this open terrain,” he said and suddenly stood up. “Form up men, they’ll be coming for us in a few minutes.

The able knights stood up and arranged themselves in a circle around those too wounded to stand and, as daylight began to banish the darkness, the forms of their foes slowly became clear. Thaddeus’s guess appeared to be about correct as the reptile men had them ringed in on all four sides with about a hundred or so in each group. The leader of the enemy was a tall man who wore a spectacular uniform decorated with many bone symbols. Odellius shook his head, “With our mounts they’d run before us like children,” he said.

Thaddues looked at Odellius, his eyes shining brightly. “It’s too bad men on their civilian twelve month aren’t allowed either horse or lance; still, death against an overwhelming force isn’t the worst way for a knight to die, now is it?”

“Balls on,” said Odellius and gave the younger knight a clap on his shoulder so hard he staggered forward a step. “By the Black Horse, I’ll take them lizards on with a wooden practice sword and five beers in my belly.”

“They’re getting ready to come down on us,” said Thaddeus looking up at the gathered reptile men and listening to their strange sibilant language as they shouted orders to one another. “We’ll not hold up to even a single charge,” said the knight with a smile, “but I’ll go down with one of them at least,” he finished and pulled out his sword. “For Elekargul!” he shouted and the men shouted it as well, but then a horn sounded and the shout suddenly echoed tenfold in the distance.

“By the Black Horse,” said Odellius. “If that’s not the First Rider and a company of men then I’m a tea totaling brewer boy in his mother’s petticoats!”

The reptile men directly to their right spun almost to the man to look behind them, and all four groups began to signal frantically and moved to unify their formation. The sound of thunderous hooves came next and then, from a small dip in the hills, a hundred heavily armed horsemen, their plate mail glinting in the orange glow of the morning sun, charged forward, a white banner with four black horseshoes carried by the lead rider.

The horses seemed to gallop at the same speed and maintained a perfect line as they moved with deceptive swiftness towards the reptile men who hurriedly tried to form a wall. A loud cry came from the horsemen and all one hundred lances dipped at the same moment to create a terrible phalanx of death. The two groups of reptile men on either side of the trapped knights raced towards the unit closest to the horsemen while the creatures across simply tried to cut through Odellius and his men.

“Face me,” cried Odellius, turning his back to the reptiles and facing the soldiers at his command who turned to look at the massive warrior. “Line up, three deep, rows of six,” he calmly ordered and they obeyed in precise fashion getting into place just as the hundred or so reptiles hit their wall. The creatures that struck the center of the wall stopped in their tracks while those on either side flowed around and jabbed with their swords at the massed center.

From behind this little battle, the sound of thunder rolled over the battlefield and a hundred lances swept through the reptile lines like a scythe through a field of wheat. As Odellius tried to bellow orders the horsemen flew past him, their mounts heavily armored, and the men on their backs silent.

A short man with the features of a hobgoblin that included a square head with black hair and black eyes motioned with his hand; fifty of the riders suddenly swung their horses around in perfection unison, and lowered their lances for another charge. The leader made another move with his hand and all fifty of the remaining knights dropped their bloody lances, dismounted, and pulled out thick swords like a drill team on the parade field. “By the lance, by the sword, by the horse, to me knights of Elekargul, to the First Rider!”

The isolated soldiers dashed across the field and found positions with the fifty heavily armed soldiers like gears that turned on a mill, and Odellius found himself next to the squat man who gave the orders. Odellius stood almost a foot taller than the man although their bodies were nearly the same thickness and the little man’s legs were even stouter, like trunks of some great tree.

“I expected you’d find a way to weasel out of your twelve month of masonry,” he said to Odellius, although he kept his eyes on the reptiles that tried to reform with at least half their number dead or badly wounded. “Swords … up!” and sixty some odd blades rose into fighting position while shields locked.

“It’s nice to see you as well, Vipsanius,” said Odellius.

“At the double!” shouted the squat man and men started toward the few reptiles that managed to band together after the second sweep from the cavalry. The big leader of the group, a flagman at his side, shouted orders but their lines remained jagged and many of their foe looked at the horses, who swept around for another charge rather than at the swordsmen who rapidly approached. “Address me as First Rider if you please,” said the short man. “Keep in line there, Surantius,” he shouted as a young knight with an open hand symbol between his four horseshoes surged half a stride ahead. “Make a note, Odellius,” he continued, “how many of them watch the horses and how many watch us.”

“Yes, First Rider,” said Odellius as they moved to within ten yards of their massed foes. Some of the enemy noticed the foot soldiers, although at least half, if not more, watched the horsemen now completely wheeled and ready to charge forward again as they lowered their steel lances to chest height.

The horses moved aside at the last second and rolled past like a river split around some massive stone, but their movement captured the attention of most of the reptiles in the square and the First Rider’s group hit them a moment later at a full run. What few of the enemy put up a fight were quickly dispatched as their hide armor proved no match for the field plate of the knights and within a moment Odellius and the First Rider approached the heart of the enemy unit where the great captain and his personal guard awaited.

“A weak choice of armor,” said Vipsanius and thrust his blade under the arm of a reptile whose own overhand smash he easily deflected with a steel shield.

“They are from the swamps, unused to open plain fighting,” said Odellius and smashed a second of the beasts in the face with his own shield and then, as the creature reeled, chopped its left leg off at the knee.

“Now, then, that one seems better equipped,” said the First Rider, planting his steel tipped riding boot into the face of a downed reptile and crushing his mouth, as he pointed to the leader. “Shall we test his steel?”

Odellius nodded his head, “I’m afraid technically I’m still on civilian duties, First Rider, and he does seem quite fearsome,” he continued as the two advanced on the leader whose guard suddenly seemed to evaporate in the avalanche of steel. “But I’ll come along in case you get yourself in trouble and I have to save you … again.”

The two knights strode forward towards the heavily armored champion who turned to face them with a sneer on his face. He uttered something in a strange, guttural language, made a gesture with his sword even as the First Rider, who stood at least a foot and a half shorter than the massive creature darted forward and brought his sword up in a thrust that caught the big creature between the legs and drove into his body. Odellius, more on par height-wise with the creature, blocked a violent blow that caused his shield to ring and arm to go numb and fired off a level swing that neatly beheaded the creature whose shocked expression remained even while it rolled along the ground a moment later. After this, all resistance swiftly ended.

The two men stood for a moment and the First Rider looked to Odellius and shook his head sadly, “You tall fellows always go for the sweeping attacks. I’ve told you many times, my old friend, that it is easy to block such attacks, come in low, with a stabbing motion and your opponent must either dodge aside or be impaled.”

“I grant that for a half-hobgoblin, half-halfing midget like yourself such a tactic might prove effective from time to time but those of us who can see over the back end of a horse find an overhand strike has more power,” he replied and looked down at the First Rider, a large grin on his face.

“Ah, now with the racial insults,” replied the man and shook his head again with an equally broad grin across his square jaw. “At least my mother knew the identity of my father,” he finished as another of the well armored horsemen approached.

“That’s hardly fair,” said Odellius, “my mom had it narrowed down to three or four the last time I spoke with her.”

“First Rider,” said the man who wore steel armor with the symbol of four horseshoes around a clenched and bloody hand. “The enemy is defeated; the prisoners indicate that another group of them are holed up in the hills north of here.”

“Well done,” said Vipsanius with a nod. “Set a unit to take the prisoners back to Black Roost, allow them their personal possessions, but strip them of arms and armor.”

“Yes, First Rider,” said the soldier, clenching his fist, then turning to the other men, and beginning to bellow out orders.

“So Odellius,” said the squat man, “why are you out here chasing reptiles when you should be in Black Dale working on your masonry skills?”

“I apologize, First Rider,” said Odellius, scratching his mammoth belly with one meaty hand. “The mayor received your orders to mobilize after the reptiles landed.”

Vipsanius looked at Odellius through narrowed eyes for a moment and the coal black seemed to take on a hint of red. “I see,” he finally said and put his hand on his sword hilt. “And he ordered all men on civilian duty to arms?”

“Yes, First Rider,” said Odellius as he looked away toward where the knights organized the prisoners into lines in preparation for the long march to Black Roost.

“Most unfortunate,” said the First Rider with a shake of his head, although he also turned to gaze at the prisoners. “You and your men return to Black Dale and resume your twelve month,” he said. “I’ll get to the bottom of this incursion. The mayor is with you?”

“He joined us after a few days but died bravely yesterday when we first encountered the enemy,” said Odellius. “He led the first assault.”

The First Rider shook his head again, “This is most troubling my friend. There is something going on in the lands. I’ve known for several months now but I did not appreciate the gravity of the situation until this moment. Our own men influenced by this force, corrupted in some way.”

“There is another thing, First Rider,” said Odellius quietly as the two watched the organization continue apace. Most of the reptiles lined up tidily while armored horsemen maneuvered around them, their lances in an upright position.

“Go on, Odellius,” said the First Rider and turned to look up at the huge bellied mason.

“An emissary came to Black Dale shortly before the mayor sent us on this patrol,” continued Odellius quietly. “A man, a young man not much out of boyhood, named Jon Gray who claims he is the son of the Gray Lord of Tanelorn. He wanted to speak with you of an alliance.”

“I’ve had no word of such a thing,” said Vipsanius with a frown. “No messenger, nor my priest magically notified.”

“No, First Rider,” said Odellius. “Mayor Thorius thought the boy merely a drifter looking to steal or otherwise deceive you and refused to send a message.”

The First Rider nodded, “And what did you think of this young emissary?” he said and turned to face Odellius and look up at him.

“He’s no drifter,” said Odellius with a smile, remembering their tussle in the yard. “Perhaps he’s not what he claims but he is a lad to be reckoned with. I’ve heard of this Tanelorn, First Rider. They are a people not unlike our own and an alliance with them is something I would welcome. If their warriors are on par with the boy, then, at least, I would not want to be their enemies.”

“So,” said the First Rider, “you think it likely he is who he represents to be?”

“Yes, First Rider. I think it highly likely. I also think his presence here has something to do with the recent activities of the reptile creatures, of the … corruption of Mayor Thorius, and more.”

“Where is this boy now,” said the First Rider, “in Black Dale hoping that I’ll turn up?”

Odellius shook his head, “No, First Rider. He befriended the young brewer boy, the one who was sickly and untaken as a squire but who grew up well, Sorus Brewer. They headed into the hills with Sir Germanius. The old warrior hoped to end his life with some sort of glorious deed and seemed to trust the boy well enough.”

“Where were they headed?” asked the First Rider as his hand went to his square jaw.

“Into the Mountains of the Orc,” said Odellius, “I think …,” he started to continue but the First Rider immediately held up his hand.

“The Mountains of the Orc,” he repeated as his hand left his chin and his face turned towards the mountains which were visible to the northeast in the distance. “Did he say what he wanted up there?”

Odellius shook his head no, “I’m sorry, First Rider, the boy was in town for about a month hoping you would turn up but eventually grew bored and left. I think he confided in Germanius, otherwise I doubt the old fellow would have gone along.”

“Odellius,” said the First Rider, “would it bother you terribly if I ordered you to come along with me to the mountains instead of resuming your duties in Black Dale?”

Odellius smiled broadly. “To be honest, I was enjoying sculpting very much. I hoped to make a statue in your honor by the end of my term. Your form is not particularly easy to duplicate, short and wide and how I was going to cut that third leg of yours that hangs near the ground I’m not certain.”

The First Rider rolled his eyes, “Odellius, is it any wonder you’ve provoked every First Rider for the last ten years into giving you the worst civilian duties possible?”

“I’m quite congenial,” said the rotund warrior as he pulled himself up to his full height and squared his jaw. “I’m terribly insulted by this implication of yours.”

“It’s no implication, you great oaf,” said the First Rider as he broke into a hearty laugh. “I believe it was a direct accusation. Having said that, you will join me? You’ve met this boy of Tanelorn and I gather he trusts you?”

“We had a tussle in the yard,” said Odellius smiling broadly. “He fought well enough and seemed not to take it personally when I bested him twice.”

“He fights with skill you say,” said Vipsanius as the last of the reptiles marched off, accompanied by half a dozen mounted warriors. The First Rider’s lieutenant approached again presumably with news.

“He tried to wrestle me off my feet in the second go round,” said Odellius.

“Really?” said the First Rider raising his bushy eyebrows and smiling broadly.

“Truly,” said Odellius, “and he damn near sent me tumbling, but I managed to throw him off balance in the end. I would say he is a fine warrior and trustworthy as well. I’ll come with you to the mountains and wherever else you order me.”

“First Rider,” said the lieutenant who arrived. “The prisoners are en route to Black Roost and we await further orders.”

The First Rider stood for a moment as he looked towards the mountains in the distance, then to the hills more directly to his right, and finally back to his lieutenant. “I’m ending Sir Odellius’s civilian tour,” he said and pointed to the rotund knight. “Find a horse big enough to carry him and bring it here. Then take the main body to where you think the remaining reptiles might be up in the hills. Send a fast messenger to the Black Horse temple in the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc and tell them to expect me within a week.”

“Yes, sir,” said his lieutenant and immediately turned and began to bark out orders.

“You and I will continue alone to the temple and try and find this Jon Gray, the brewer boy, and Germanius,” said the First Rider.

“The mountains are quite large,” said Sir Odellius with a shake of his head. “They could be anywhere up there if they’re still alive.”

“There’s more going on than you know, Sir Odellius,” said the First Rider as he looked back towards the mountains. “The priests at the temple are versed in the arts of the Old Empire. Where they direct us we will find this boy of gray, I assure you of that.”

“If he’s alive,” repeated Odellius.

Chapter 20

“I don’t like this at all,” said master Shill as he and Whitebone stood in the open cave bathed by the red glow from a dozen light stones embedded in the walls.

“They are clever,” the skeleton lord began to answer, but the war cry of Proteus caused him to turn and face the charging knight. Whitebone whipped out his sword but the snake creature was not as fast to arm himself, and Proteus slashed with his sword and tore deeply into the side of the creature. Whitebone raised a skeletal hand, spoke in a strange language, a green glow leapt from his hand, and it plowed into Proteus who went flying backwards.

Master Shill dropped to a knee and tried to hold in his guts as Jon Gray came charging at them only bounce off the green energy shield that now protected the duo.

“Jon Gray,” said Whitebone. The boy’s head snapped up as he looked at the skeletal figure closely.

“You know me,” Jon replied in his native tongue and Sorus, who skidded to a stop a moment before he crashed into the green barrier, looked at Jon, “What?”

Jon looked at Sorus, “He knows me,” he translated.

“Do you know him,” asked Sorus looking back and forth to the skeleton and Jon.

Jon shook his head, “No, at least not in his current condition. Perhaps I knew him when he was a living creature,” he said with a wry smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

“I know your father well,” said Whitebone and switched to the dialect of the traders that everyone could understand, “the Gray Lord. I know your brother Valarious and your sister Jane. I know your people, the Tanelornians. I know that your father possesses the Gray Horn which when sounded will signal the end of the world. I know that he has obtained the Usurper’s black sword, Banisher.”

“You have me at a disadvantage then, sir,” said Jon, his huge gray sword flicked back and forth and he looked for an opening in the green energy shield.

“Lord,” said Whitebone, “address me as Lord Whitebone. I also know why you are here, that you want to obtain the Staff of Sakatha to add to your father’s collection.”

“Why do you talk to them,” hissed Shill and winced in agony from the terrible wound at his side. “My life’s blood flows out, heal me.”

Whitebone turned to the snake, nodded his head, and then turned back to Jon, Sorus, and Proteus who had regained his feet, although his knees noticeably wobbled. “My companion wants me to heal him. I assume you do not wish for this to happen?”

“Damn right,” shouted Sorus brandishing his own blade, “if you so much as start to cast a spell I’ll … I’ll … kill you.”

Whitebone shook his thick white skull and his deep red eyes seemed to turn a shade of green for a moment, “I’m terribly frightened now,” he said. “Jon, we can work this out to your satisfaction and to mine,” he continued.

“Damn you, Whitebone,” said Shill as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crystalline rock that glowed with energy.

“Don’t let him use that,” cried Sorus, leaping forward into the green shield, and immediately flying backwards as a crackle of energy burst around him. Proteus moved around to one side and he tried to get a flank position as the snake creature began to utter a spell of some sorts. This ended when Whitebone’s sword cut off his head. The body fell to the ground with a thud, while strange greenish fluid began to pour out onto the floor.

“Does that prove the earnestness of my offer,” said Whitebone as he looked back to Jon. “We can work out a deal that is mutually beneficial. I want an alliance with your father against the Queen of the Abyss.”

“Why shouldn’t I just kill you and take the Staff of Sakatha for myself,” said Jon to the creature as his hand twitched, and he poked forward experimentally at the green barrier.

“That is certainly your prerogative,” said Whitebone with a shrug of his shoulders. “If you think you can kill me, then that is clearly your best choice. Do you think you can?”

Jon stood still for a moment, “I’m certain I can,” he said with a smile, “but my father tells me to consider all options before making a decision. What do you offer, Lord Whitebone?”

“No, Jon,” said Sorus, “don’t listen to him. It’s some kind of a trap.”

Proteus continued to skirt around the edge of the circle and get in position to bypass the energy field that blocked them off from the skeletal creature.

“I’d heard you were a stupid oaf,” said Whitebone to Jon with a nod of his head. “A boy incapable of thinking on his own, but perhaps the rumors were unfounded. You seem quite reasonable.”

Jon nodded his head, “Make your offer, Lord Whitebone.”

The skeleton moved a hand to its chin and apparently did not notice as Proteus sidled another step closer, “The Staff of Sakatha is a relic from the Old Empire. The reptile men of Darag’dal are degenerate dragon children, their blood thinned over the generations, but they hope to raise a great hero from that bygone era, Sakatha the Great.”

“Go on,” said Jon careful not to look at Proteus, who edged closer in small motions and now stood only twenty feet from the bone lord.

“The Lady of the Abyss wants the staff for a similar purpose; she hopes not to raise Great Sakatha but to animate his corpse and make him one of her most powerful minions,” Whitebone said as his red eyes began to blaze with fire. “I want neither of these things, and if your father takes the staff out of circulation or even destroys it I will be quite pleased.”

Jon nodded his head, “Are you not a servant of She of the Undeath? You certainly have the countenance of the dead,” he said as his eyes glanced once towards Proteus who now stood no more than three steps from the undead lord.

“I am subject to her will, yes,” said Whitebone, “but she and I have different agendas. Have you heard the name Shinamar?” he said with a tilt of his head.

Jon shook his head, “No, should I?”

“No,” said Lord Whitebone, “and I am not in such an expansive mood as to illuminate you to his role in all of this. All I need is a child of the dragon to tell me where the thing is located; you help me find it, and then we turn it over to your father. That seems reasonable, does it not?”

“It does,” said Jon.

“Don’t trust him,” shouted Sorus and pointed with his finger to the skeletal warrior. “I bet that white dragon was his all along, that’s how it knew your name!”

Whitebone stood up stiffly for a moment but then resumed his previous attitude, “I am not lying to you Jon,” he said. “I am not telling the complete truth of course, as our desires do not match exactly. But, in this case I think we can, and should, work together.”

Jon nodded his head, “I’m willing to accept that, Whitebone,” he said.

“Did the boy mention a white dragon,” said Whitebone his inflection apparently calm.

“It was traveling with some dragon children,” said Jon with a shrug. “Sorus, myself, and another knight came here and found the creature. I suspect it wanted to find the Staff of Sakatha as well. It probably worked for the dragon children.”

“That would seem to make sense,” said Whitebone with a casual nod of his head. “You’ve been in this region before?”

“Yes, just a couple of days ago,” said Jon. “We came across the creature and its friends in the darkling lands below the mountains. Sir Germanius killed it but died in the effort, so the dragon cannot be of any help to us now.”

“I see,” said Whitebone his voice suddenly cool, but the fire in his eyes now glowing with white hot intensity.

“Jon,” said Sorus. “Something’s up!”

“This friend of yours, Sir Germanius the dragon slayer, he died while killing the beast,” said Whitebone as his body began to tremble.

“Yes,” said Jon with a nod. “It was a fair battle and they killed one another. There was a darkling with them that I killed, and Sorus here fought and killed a dragon child at the same time.”

Whitebone stood silently for a long moment as his eyes grew more intense until they were white hot and boring into Jon with pure hatred.

“Watch out, Jon,” said Sorus and leapt forward to push Jon out of the way as a bolt of energy shot out of the skeleton lord’s eyes at the young gray knight. Sorus hit Jon like a wooden practice sword against a set of heavy plate mail, bounced off straight backwards onto the floor, but the impact caused the Gray Knight to turn sideways and the white hot bolt sailed past his right ear. He clapped a hand over it as the near miss sent a burning sensation through his body.

As Sorus picked himself up off the floor Proteus moved in from behind the skeletal lord with his sword raised and began a quick motion aimed at the creature’s midsection. Whitebone whirled with astonishing speed and parried the blow. Proteus slid sideways but managed to get his own defense up in time to knock aside the riposte that sailed harmlessly past his head.

Jon looked at the green shield that separated him from Whitebone, and the lord of death glanced over his shoulder, smiled, and then his blade flashed out again, this time it caught Proteus a glancing blow on his shoulder. The knight of Elekargul winced in pain but struck back, although he missed missing widely, as Whitebone moved with tremendous grace.

“Jon,” screamed Sorus, “I’m going to go around it,” he continued and then dashed off to the side of the energy field as he hoped to follow Proteus’s movements. This time the green glow actually lurched at Sorus, and the boy, surprised, was unable to dodge aside. It hit him with a crackling burst of energy, and he flew back against the wall and smashed his head with a dreadful thunk. The lad slid to the ground with his eyes rolled back in his head and his sword on the floor next to his limp hand.

Whitebone parried another blow from Proteus with apparent ease and his own blade nicked the warrior on the right hand, drawing a narrow stream of blood, “I’ll kill your friend here first,” said Whitebone with a casual glance at Jon, “and then I’ll finish you slowly and painfully.”

Jon paused for a moment, watched the swordplay between Proteus and Whitebone, took a quick glance at the fallen Sorus, set his jaw, and raised his sword, “For the Gray!” he yelled and charged directly at the glowing green energy shield as his massive stone sword swung down with devastating force. The two forces met, green energy shot up the blade and into Jon’s arm. His body stiffened but his momentum kept him going forward until he reached the shield itself. There was a strange silence as its energy engulfed the sword and then Jon at the same second, but then there was a terrible cracking sound and Jon plunged through to the other side, stumbled for a moment, and then caught his feet and turned to Whitebone.

Lord Whitebone looked over at the sound and Proteus lunged forward, the tip of the sword penetrated the skeletal master’s heavy cloak, slid into his body, and nicked a rib. Whitebone whirled with a move too fast to completely comprehend, raised his free hand, slapped Proteus across the face, and the knight turned almost instantly blue, flew backwards ten feet, and collapsed to the ground, his entire body shivering.

Meanwhile, Jon moved directly at Whitebone who spun again and brought his sword up to block the descending stone blade. There was the slightest clink when the skeletal lord’s blade broke, but the parry did nothing to stop Jon’s sword and it continued to decend almost unabated and crashed into Whitebone’s shoulder with such force that the bone turned to powder and sprayed out of the collars around his neck and wrist with a puff.

Whitebone screamed in agony, his eyes burning red, Jon flipped his massive sword up with a simple wrist movement, and then turned it in a downward sweeping arc aimed at the skeleton’s head. The creature shrieked out a single word and vanished as the sword plunged through the spot it occupied a moment before and crashed into the ground with the terrible sound of rock on rock. Jon looked around but could not see Whitebone, and then rushed over to Proteus who lay in a curled-up position, his face blue and his body cold to the touch.

“Are you all right?” Jon said as he put his hand on the man.

“I’m cold,” said Proteus with a smile, “which means I’m not dead, should you care to look on the positive side of things.”

“True enough, here, take my cloak,” said the gray knight and pulled off the gray cloak with the mistletoe symbol on the shoulder. “I’m going to check on Sorus, I think he’s all right as well, just dazed from that energy shield thing.”

Proteus nodded as his teeth chattered, “I’ll try to get up and move around; my legs don’t seem to want to take orders at the moment but I’ll convince them.”

Jon walked over to Sorus who sat against the wall and blinked wide eyes set in a face ashen white. He reached back to feel his head and immediately knew he was bleeding again, “I think Proteus is going to be mad at me for opening my wound,” he said with a smile.

“Just sit right there for a bit,” said Jon. “You were right about Whitebone and you saved me from that bolt he threw. Proteus is going to be okay but we need to get out of here as quickly as possible. I think there are more darklings about and we’re in no condition to deal with them.”

“Just give me a second,” said Sorus and put his hands by his legs in an attempt to slowly rise, “I’ll be okay.”

Jon went back over to Proteus who had somehow managed to get shakily to his feet, and his color changed to a slighter redder hew although he still shivered uncontrollably. “I’ve never been hit with anything like that,” he said with a shaky voice. “Let’s get out into the sunshine. I don’t think I like it here in the darkling lands much.”

“Agreed,” said Jon with a nod of his head and he put his arm under Proteus’s and helped the warrior along. “Don’t forget your sword,” he reminded the knight as he pointed to where it lay on the floor.

“Right,” said Proteus, “I must be more addled than I realized,” he continued, “a knight never leaves his sword on the field of battle unless he’s dead.”

The two staggered over to the blade, Proteus picked it up, sheathed it, and then they walked slowly over to Sorus who was also barely on his feet. Jon slipped his other arm around the young knight and the three of them walked arm in arm back towards the entrance of the cave.

Chapter 21

The two figures, one immensely fat atop a draft horse that plodded along, and the other short and stout aboard a thickly muscled horse, arrived at the gates to the Black Horse temple as the sun set early in the shadows of the Mountains of the Orc. A livery boy, wearing a cloak with a simple Black Horse symbol emblazoned on it, dashed out from a long building and over to the men. “Hello,” he started to say and then saw the two men clearly and pulled up short, “First Rider, sir! Welcome to the Black Horse temple, can I take your horse, sir?”

Vipsanius dismounted quickly althought it took a bit longer for the rotund Odellius to swing his leg around and get off his own mount. A few seconds later the two strode off to a tall stone building in the center of the courtyard while the boy led the horses to the long structure not far away. As soon as the young livery boy got to the paddocks he shouted out to another boy who lazed nearby on a bale of hale, “It’s the First Rider and Sir Odellius!”

“What?” said the second boy jumping immediately to his feet. “What’s that you say?”

“The First Rider! He’s here, this is his horse, look!” said the first boy and pulled the steed over for examination. “And fat Odellius too,” he continued with a huge grin on his face. “Look at this draft horse he’s riding. It’s probably the only one big enough to carry him!”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” said the second boy, his eyes wide as he looked around the barn, “my father said Odellius believes that a beating now and again does a boy good! Come on, get that saddle off, we have to get them rubbed down. The First Rider might want to leave in the middle of the night on an urgent mission and I’m not going to be the one to let him ride out on a scruffy horse!”

The two boys began to work on the horses with great dedication as the sun set and their lanterns provided light in the dim paddock.

“First Rider,” said the rather plain human wearing a heavy black robe that came down to the floor as he waved his hand to a thick wooden chair at the head of a large oak table. He had brown hair, marginally silver at the ends, and wore a small gold ring on his left hand ring finger but showed no other fine jewels on his person. To his right a young man, in an equally black robe, piled kindling into the fire and began to work at it with flint and steel. “We were told to expect you later in the week, you’ve made good time but your quarters are not yet ready.”

“I won’t stay long, Imprilius,” said the First Rider as he moved over to the large chair and sat down on a small cushion that propped him up a little higher than his normal stature. “Sir Odellius and I are here in regards to the unpleasantness in the Mountains of the Orc. There is important news that may change our interpretation of events.”

“Odellius,” said Imprilius with a nod to the fat man. “I thought you were in Black Dale this twelve month but, let me say, it is always a pleasure to see you. I’ll notify the cook immediately.”

“Sir Odellius,” said the First Rider and put his hands on the stone table just as the fire sprang to life under the administration of the acolyte. “I’ve revoked his twelve month for this situation.”

“I realize that magic from the Old Empire is a rare thing,” said the priest of the Black Horse as he motioned with his head to an older man who also wore the standard robes of the temple. “Tell the cook that we have an extra guest and that it is Sir Odellius.”

The man slid out of the room silently as his soft leather shoes seemed to glide over the floor and then he was gone. The boy who tended the fire got up, satisfied the blaze was well started, and also moved out of the room without a word.

“We’ve a visitor from far to the north,” said the First Rider, “An emissary of the Gray Lord of Tanelorn.”

The priest sat back in his chair and his brown eyes narrowed as he looked back and forth between Odellius and Vipsanius. “I’ve heard of Tanelorn,” he said and folded his hands on his laps as his fingers intertwined. “But what on earth could our two nations offer one another in an alliance? The distance is far too great for any sort of military aid.”

“Indeed,” said the First Rider with a nod of his head leaning forward in his seat. “It is about this relic from the Old Empire,” he continued. “The Gray Lord clearly knows about it and has known for some time. The journey from Tanelorn is many months, even years long at best.”

“Unless the Gray Lord has access to the portal system,” said the priest of the Black Horse and looked at the First Rider impassively.

The squat man paused for a moment, “I had not considered that,” he said. “Did this Jon Gray say anything to you about how he got here?” he asked Odellius.

The big man shrugged his shoulders, “No First Rider, we didn’t really discuss such things. He might have told Germanius or the boy Sorus but I have no knowledge; no wait, I do,” he suddenly said and snapped the fingers on his right hand.”

“Go on,” said the First Rider and leaned back in his chair.

“He had one of those two-tone trotters that they breed in Tarlton. I’m sure of it, the horse was a gelding, and those desert nomads never sell breeding stock to foreigners. He must have sailed south from Sea’cra to Tarlton and stopped there before continuing to Elkargul.”

“That does make sense, First Rider,” said the high priest of the Black Horse, his brown eyes reflective as he sat back in his chair. “I don’t remember where this Tanelorn is exactly, other than far to the north, but if they have access to portals he would’ve come straight to us, or at least as close as possible. If he purchased a horse in Tarlton it’s likely he didn’t sail around the peninsula, but instead stopped in Doria perhaps, or even Darag’dal, which might be explained by the nature of the relic.”

The First Rider nodded his head, “Yes, the staff is associated with the reptile creatures. The little force we just defeated proves our theory correct in that regard,” he said as he suddenly pounded his fist into the table. “They are here for the staff and so is this emissary. What was his name again, Odellius?”

“Jon Gray,” said the rotund man just as a group of boys and girls came into the room with plates, glasses, and silverware, which they began to set up industriously. It only took them a minute to prepare the entire table for all three men. As they finished another young boy in priestly robes entered then room, a decanter filled with a red liquid in his hands, which he poured into the glasses, careful to fill them to precisely the same depth. After this he left the three alone once again.

“Some relation to this Gray Lord,” said Imprilius with a look to Odellius, his head cocked at a slight angle.

“I assume so,” said Odellius, “but the subject never came up. He has the noble caste about him that’s certain. Seven feet tall if he’s an inch and powerful as an ox. He’s charmed all the Speeds in town and most of the boys worship him as a hero.”

“They say the Gray Lord is a giant of a man,” mused the First Rider with a nod of his head. “Perhaps a son?”

“If so,” said the high priest, pausing to guide a boy and girl acolyte as they returned with platters of food, “then this is of the gravest importance. If he sends his son all this way then the … old relic must be of tremendous value.”

The men paused in their conversation for a moment as the servers spread out several dishes that included a brown-glazed whole chicken on a bed of carrots and cauliflower, as well as a side of beef that stewed in its own juices with little cooked onions as a garnish . Odellius reached forward with lightning rapidity and began to carve the chicken with the expertise of a true trencherman while the high priest took on the side of beef. After a few moments dedicated to this important pursuit the men loaded their plates, Odellius refraining from a double portion after the slightest of glances from the First Rider. They began to eat and resumed their conversation.

“He’s not more than eighteen,” said Odellius. “Just a boy and come all this way. His father must have great faith in him,” he managed between mighty forkfuls of food. “Damn fine beef,” he said to the high priest, “I’m reminded of the dinner served to me by the wife of an orc we fought against back in the day. He had five daughters and the meal …”

“Sir Odellius,” said the First Rider, “I’ve spoken to you before about your bawdy stories and colorful anecdotes and when they are appropriate.”

Odellius looked up, a chicken wing in hand and poised in front of his mouth, “I’m hurt, Vipsansius, deeply hurt that you think I’d say anything inappropriate in front of his high holiness here.”

“I’m surprised he can say anything with half a chicken in his mouth,” said Imprilius and pointed his knife at Odellius.

“Half?” said Odellius, “I think that’s underestimating a tad.”

“Likely,” said the high priest with a shake of his head and hearty laugh. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“That’s kind of you,” said Odellius as he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth. “I appreciate your concern.”

“Are you two ladies done with your niceties,” said the First Rider, although a smile appeared on his face as he pushed back his half empty glass of wine. “We only have the nation to save, if you don’t mind.”

Both Odellius and Imprilius nodded their heads although the high priest said, “There is still dessert to come so we might lose the big man for a bit.”

“The reason I came to you,” said the Vipsanius and looked at the high priest with a squarely set jaw, “is help on where in the Mountains of the Orc we need to head if we are going to find Jon Gray.”

“I know,” said the high priest with a nod. “You know that Sir Giaus is half reptile and his dreams alerted us to this situation in the first place. I spoke with him extensively after our first meeting and learned a great deal.”

“Tell us then,” said the First Rider with a nod of his head, “You can, of course, say anything in front of Sir Odellius with complete confidence.”

“Sir Gaius believed the dreams emanate from the legendary mount of the Sakatha, a tremendously powerful green dragon called Chusarausea, as we discussed before. But, there is something new. Gaius thought the dragon is somehow being manipulated into giving the dreams and has resisted revealing the true location of the staff.”

“Interesting,” said the First Rider as his eyes closed for a moment and he paused. “That is why the forces trying to find it have so far utterly failed. Does Gaius know who manipulates the dragon?”

The high priest shook his head and smiled as a young boy brought in thick apple pie whose aroma immediately filled the room. “Vipsanius, would you do the honor please?” he said and pointed to the silver pie server that accompanied the dish.

The First Rider began to cut into the pie industriously and soon all three men had equal-sized slices on their plates. “Now, if you gluttons are done with the food can we get on with the important business?”

Odellius sighed, “If a man does not eat then he cannot perform heroic deeds. So it is written.”

“I’d ask by whom but I think I know the answer,” said the high priest with a laugh. “However, First Rider, I take your point. This is a serious matter and deserves our full attention. Gaius suggested that the dragon hoped to steer his followers in the wrong direction to keep the device from whomever is manipulating it. But that this subterfuge is slowly failing and those guided by this endeavor are getting close to the staff.”

“Is Gaius still here?” said Odellius between bites of his slice which already lay in ruin, two-thirds eaten. “Why not let him lead us to the thing?”

The First Rider looked down as did the high priest and Odellius instantly knew that the man was no longer alive.

“No,” said the Vipsansius. “I ordered him and a troupe of warriors into the hills to retrieve the thing and they have not been seen since. I’m almost certain they were captured or killed by the orcs or possibly the darklings.”

“There is this invasion of reptiles of Darag’dal to deal with as well,” said Odellius and High Priest Impilius looked up sharply.

“Yes, the messenger said something about that before riding off. An invasion? The creatures are ill equipped to fight our mounted style of warfare,” he said and looked back and forth between Odellius and Vipsanius. “I can’t imagine what they hope to accomplish.”

“I’m not convinced it was an invasion,” said the First Rider and stuck his fork into the partially eaten pie. “They managed to get all the way to Black Dale without anyone noticing them. I suspect they were on a stealth mission to reach the Mountains of the Orc and help liberate the Staff of Sakatha from whatever force is manipulating the dragon. But, they attacked the warriors and somehow Thorius Brokenshield guessed that they were there, which is something I still don’t understand. I have a theory about that that is not material to the current conversation,” went on the First Rider. “Whatever force searches for the Staff of Sakatha knew about the lizards and directed or somehow manipulated Mayor Thorius into sending them off in chase.”

“But if they were on a mission of stealth then why attack us?” said Odellius. “I was there the night of the battle from the beginning. The creatures launched the first assault although only with a small force. We beat them back easily and then the mayor and his men ran into the main group. We were beaten like a boy who can’t master the niceties of brushing down his horse every night and readied ourselves for a last stand when you arrived, First Rider.”

“Yes,” said the First Rider with a nod of his head. “That is true but our interrogators found that more of them, mostly the priests, were still hiding up in the hills. I suspect the priests knew of the mission in greater detail than the warriors.”

“And the fighters attacked out of sheer aggression,” said Odellius. “That does have the ring of truth about it. They stood no chance against heavily armored horsemen once daylight arrived, so attacking was foolish.”

“The priests escaped the carnage?” said Imprilius and gazed to the First Rider, his hands on either side of his plate and his brown eyes suddenly ablaze with intensity.

“That’s right,” said Vipsanius. “At least that is the last news I received. I sent a troop after them and they might well be destroyed by now.”

“Order them off immediately,” said the high priest. “That’s how you’ll find the Staff of Sakatha and this Jon Gray fellow. You have to follow them to the staff. They’re in tune with the dreams of the green dragon.”

“But didn’t you say the dreams are false,” said Odellius and looked to the high priest as he leaned back in his chair to pat his enormous belly. “Wouldn’t they be going in the wrong direction?”

“Not false,” said Imprilius and suddenly got to his feet, “just resistant to give the true location. That was the interpretation of Sir Gaius. These are clerics of Sakatha, they have direct access to the thoughts of the dragon. They are headed for the staff, for the mountain, for whatever force is manipulating the dragon, and for your Tanelornian friend.”

“Why don’t we just leave it to them then,” said Odellius. “Let them destroy whatever this evil force is, take the thing back to Darag’dal, and use it however they please.”

“No,” said the First Rider. “Imprilius and I discussed that possibility at great length. If the reptiles gain the staff they will become that much more powerful.”

“We are far away from Darag’dal, a thousand miles almost,” said Odellius, “and even with this staff their armies are useless in open terrain against armored knights. We have nothing to fear from them.”

“That was my point,” said the high priest with a shrug, “but the First Rider and I decided that the risk of them getting such a powerful relic from the Old Empire was dangerous. They might ally with the orcs of Adas Jdar, or relight the conquering ambitions of Relm, or, who know, align with the insect men. There is also the possibility that they fail in their mission and the other forces gain the thing.”

“What do we know about these other forces?” said Odellius as he once again turned to the First Rider. “Do we even trust Jon Gray? Should we just take the thing ourselves, throw it into the Maw, and be done with it once and for all?”

“That was my idea,” said the First Rider. “We know that anyone who wants it, be it Jon Gray, the reptile folk, or the manipulators whose identify we do not know, are not aligned with us.”

“I do not think Jon Gray wishes us harm,” said Odellius. “I know that I only tussled with him in the ring, but the boy seems true-hearted to me and what I’ve heard of the Gray Lord is all good.”

“You fought him in the ring?” said the high priest with a smile, “a seven foot boy against a seven hundred pound man, an interesting image.”

“Seven hundred? That hurts,” said Odellius his lips turned down in a frown and even the First Rider laughed aloud.

“He impressed you in the fight then,” said a smiling Vipsanius as he took a bite of his pie.

“The first round was easy enough,” said Odellius, as he leaned back in his chair the stout wooden legs creaked loudly, “I got in close and tumbled him as quickly a girl on her wedding night.”

“And the second?” said the high priest who leaned forward, his fork hung in midair and his mouth partially open.

“Ah, that was a tussle,” said Odellius. “The boy learned quick and stayed away from me. I dodged in close once, but he’s quick for his size and his stride is enormous, so he jumped back and I couldn’t catch him. He’s got a reach like a forest troll and kept whacking me with his stick from further than I could reach, and he’d a had me if he kept it up but the crowd started to give him whatfor and even some of the young Speed girls seemed to turn against him. Then he tossed his stick at me, grabbed me around the waist, and tried to spill me.”

Imprilius looked at Odellius for a moment his eyes blinking rapidly, “And how did that work out for him?”

Odellius nodded with a big grin on his face, “You haven’t heard the best of it yet. The boy got his arms around me; don’t say anything Imprilius,” noticing the high priest beginning to open his mouth to make a comment.

“Me?” said man in the robe and closed his mouth, opened his arms palms facing up, and smiled broadly.

“Gray lost his grip and went to a knee, so I put my weight onto him and the boy drove his shoulder into my belly and lifted me off the ground. I thought I was going over but managed to get in a good thwack with my practice sword behind his knee and he went straight down after that. I almost fell on him. That would have been the end of him for certain!” Odellius finished his voice almost rose to a shout and his face red as if he just finished the fight again.

“Off the ground?” said Vipsanius his mouth agape. “He actually lifted you?”

Odellius nodded.

“I was going over if I didn’t get in that lucky blow on his leg,” concluded the rotund warrior. “For me, the important thing is he didn’t beat me by staying away and tiring me out when he knew that was the way to victory. He came after me like a man, not a silly boy. That’s why I don’t think he’s lying about our mutual interests with the Gray Lord.”

First Rider Vipsanius nodded his head, “I’m willing to agree with that. High Priest Imprilius, Sir Odellius and I will stay here the night and head out first thing in the morning looking for those reptile priests. Do you have any trustworthy boys you can send out to scout for more patrols to join us?”

“Our stable lads are excellent horsemen,” said the high priest as he eyes flickered towards an attendant who stood in a nearby doorway. “I’ll instruct them to find men patrolling along the Mountains of the Orc and tell them to report to you anything they see of reptile priests. You’ll be heading south along the mountains so you should have news within two or three days at the most.”

“I hope that is soon enough,” said Odellius, “and I’d like to know more about this mysterious force that can coax a dragon to dream. That is our true enemy.”

“Agreed,” said the First Rider with a nod of his square head. He stood up, although this added little to his height, and smiled. “Imprilius, you’ve been an excellent host as always. Have our horses prepped for departure at dawn tomorrow and you have my permission to let chef stock Odellius’s saddle bags.”

“Why Vipsanius,” said Odellius. “I was beginning to think you didn’t love me anymore,” he continued with a huge grin and then grabbed the decanter of wine that sat nearby and poured himself a brimming glass. “Perhaps one more before bed to help me sleep.”

The First Rider shook his head but Imprilius nodded his own and motioned for Odellius to fill his glass. “It is many hours until morning and wine helps the digestion. You don’t mind if I stay with Odellius for a bit?” he said to the First Rider, “I’d like to hear how he’s doing in Black Dale as a mason. My nieces Shia and Rhia live there.”

“Of course not, Imprilius,” said the First Rider with a little bow. “I, on the other hand, will turn in for the evening to contemplate these matters. You’ve both given me much to think about.”

“Good night, sir,” said Odellius with a raised glass.

“Don’t stay up too late thinking about things Vipsanius,” said the high priest bobbing his own head up and down. “You cannot do anything by thinking and you need your sleep.”

The First Rider said nothing, frowned, and walked slowly out the room.

“He thinks too much,” said the high priest once the leader of the knights was out of earshot.

“He didn’t used to be that way,” said Odellius. “He was a bubbly little fellow, always cooking up something or another, got that from his mother, a lovely Halfling woman; although what she saw in that hobgoblin husband of hers I’ll never know. I offered to marry her when I was a lad, finest cook in all of Elekargul. I remember the puff pastries, she made the bread so light, filled with honey and berries.”

“Since he became First Rider he’s given up a lot of that,” said Imprilius as he sipped lightly from his glass, a small frown on his face. “It’s a position of great responsibility. He worries about all the people in the nation. Their lives are his responsibility.”

“That’s why I’ve never tried for the honor,” said Odellius who, in contrast, took a great swig of wine some of it spilling out of the corner of his mouth and on to his jerkin. “We Buffaloriders are not suited for such positions of leadership. We’re much too frivolous.”

The high priest looked at Odellius for a moment and took another shallow sip of his wine, “You’d be a fine First Rider, Odellius, and it’s not that you couldn’t do the job, it’s that you don’t want to.”

“What’s the practical difference,” said the rotund warrior and poured himself another full cup of wine. “The end result is the same.”

“Times are changing my friend,” said the high priest leaning back in his chair. “This Staff of Sakatha is just the first of it, I think. There’s a great deal more going on in the world these days.”

“You’ve piqued my interest, Imprilius,” said Odellius and also sat back in his own chair that again squeaked in agony from the pressure. “Tell me what else is going on.”

“You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve spoken about with the orc priests from Relm,” said the high priest, “and some traveling monk warriors from just outside of Doria, Thilnog Monks they call themselves, live on the side of the Maw volcano.”

“No one lives there,” said Odellius. “I’ve heard it’s as tall as the moon and erupts as frequently as an drunkard visits the slit trench.”

The high priest shook his head, “Now that Vipsanius is gone please feel free to exercise that vile tongue of yours to your heart’s content,” he finished with a laugh.

“You know you love it,” said Odellius with a smile. “Those acolytes of yours probably bow and scrape, and any petitioners do the same. You and I rode together as boys before you took up the calling. A fine knight of Elekargul we lost when you took the robes. The world is worse off without you in in armor astride a charger.”

“That is kind of you to say Odellius,” said the high priest with a  smile and continued, “but that is one of the things that the clerics of Relm, and Adas Jdar, and the Thilnog Monks are concerned about. The Gods. The future of the world.”

“Go on,” said Odellius, “although keep in mind that I’m not a religious sort of fellow. The Black Horse is fine for most but I prefer to put my trust in my lance.”

“Have you heard the name Shinamar, Shinamar the Loathsome?” asked the high priest his voice lowered almost to a whisper as he looked around the room for the sign of another presence.

Odellius looked around as well, his eyes half lowered as he returned his gaze to the high priest, “No, can’t say that I have,” he replied not quite in a whisper but in a lower than normal tone.

The high priest nodded his head, “You know that the entire world was once ruled by an emperor. He built the great cities, Doria, Tarlton of the Sand, Sea’cra, Caparal, Stav’rol, and the most ancient of them all, the King of Cities Das’von.”

“Everyone knows those legends,” said Odellius with a shrug and took another sip of wine. “The old stone ruins that are everywhere. They say it was once a portal system where anyone could travel anywhere in the world with a few simple words. I’m not sure I believe any of the nonsense but I’ve been to Doria and I’ve seen those towers. No one could build them today and people say the same about the other ancient cites, Sea’cra, Stav’rol, and everyone knows about Caparal thanks to the Tales of Yumanar. Fine stories they are to fire the warrior spirit.”

“Yes,” said Imprilius with a nod of his head and then lapsed into silence as his eyes gazed off to the far side of the room at shelf filled with china.

Odellius waited a few moments and then broke the silence, “About this Shinamar fellow …,” he prompted.

Imprilius shook his head as if awakening from sleep and smiled sheepishly, “Yes, of course, I was lost in thought there for a moment. My apologies. Shinamar the Loathesome. They say he was second in command to Elucidor the Omnipotent in Das’von before it was destroyed.”

“That name sounds familiar,” said Odellius scratching his chin, “I’ve heard it before at least, a magic user as I recall, mage king of Das’von.”

“That’s right, my friend,” said the high priest. “Shinamar is said to have betrayed Elucidor and destroyed the city.”

“A bad character, his moniker indicates as much,” said Odellius with a laugh, “never trust a man titled Loathsome.”

“There are those who think the emperor will rise again,” said Imprilius, his voice lowered even further as he leaned across the table to shorten the distance between them. “Some think Shinamar did it to hasten the rise.”

“That old story,” said Odellius. “I’ve heard it a hundred times from the orcs of Adas Jdar and Relm. They think that humans will rise and attempt to conquer the world. That’s why they don’t want anyone living in Doria. I don’t understand it myself but they seem to believe it.”

“That’s right,” said the high priest. “The demi-humans largely believe that when the Emperor arises so too will the Usurper. That the two forces will battle for control of the world. That the Emperor will support the demi-human races, the orcs, dwarves, elves, halfings, goblins and such, and that the Usurper will garner the support of humans.”

“I’ll not live long enough to see such a thing,” said Odellius, “so I’ve never taken the old legends seriously.”

“Something is happening,” said Imprilius, his brown eyes blazing. “We priests, we worship the Black Horse, the Dorians worship Mixcoatle of the Spear, the Dwarves worship Davim of the Anvil and on and on and on. There are thousands of so-called gods, each race worships them and gains their magical powers from them.”

“That’s true,” said Odellius, “everyone has a different god.”

“This Shinamar,” said Imprilius and now he spoke so low that the huge knight could barely make out the words, “this Shinamar is still around. He is active in the world and he has agents who do his bidding.”

“And he wants to bring back the Old Empire?” said Odellius.

“I … I don’t think so,” said Imprilius his eyes darting back and forth. “I had a strange dream where he spoke to me, I think it was a dream, I’m not sure. I awoke and I’ve not heard nor seen him again, but from hints the others drop, he may have contacted them as well. He is immensely powerful but somehow shackled, he cannot act directly, and he has enemies.”

“What did this dream say to you?” said Odellius his own wine cup forgotten and the huge warrior mimicked the whispered tones of the high priest.

“He … he said … he means to …,” Imprilius stuttered and was unable to finish his thoughts.

“Yes?” said Odellius.

“He means to slay the gods. To remake the world without them.”

Odellius looked at the priest for a moment and then burst out in laughter, his huge roars filled the hall, which brought out several of the acolytes who looked in at the jolly giant.

High Priest Imprilius did not laugh.

Chapter 22

“Where to now?” said Sorus as he cast a quick glance first to Proteus and then to Jon. “Whitebone knows we’re here and we have no idea where the Staff of Sakatha is hidden.”

“I don’t think Whitebone will bother us for a long while,” said Proteus as he looked back towards the mountain path they came down from moments before. “You’re right about not knowing where to go next though.”

“Why won’t Whitebone bother us?” said Sorus with first a frown and then a smile, “Not that I mind if you’re right!”

“I’ve seen priests do that trick before,” said the square jawed Brokenshield. “They have a one word escape but it takes them back to their home, and I got the distinct impression that Whitebone isn’t from around here. So, he’s a long way away now and that shoulder of his isn’t going to mend easily, even with magic. Jon crushed it to powder; I doubt he’ll ever be completely right again.”

“It was a lucky shot,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders and a narrow smile. “I was angry after what he did to you and Sorus.”

“Lucky you say,” said Proteus with a quick glance at the tall boy, “I don’t think so, but it doesn’t really matter. You saved both Sorus and me from that thing which means I’ll see my children again. That is more than I expected when we started this mission and it also brings me to my next point.”

Jon looked at the hardened warrior and deduced his thoughts, “You’re right Proteus. We’ve already asked too much from you. Go back to the boys and raise them straight and strong.”

“That’s right,” said Sorus who bobbing his head up and down eagerly. “You’ve done more than your share. You go back home and take care of your boys.”

Proteus looked at both of them and bowed his head, “I don’t like to leave you, but I think you’re right. I want to write a letter for you, to First Rider Vipsanius. I want him to know what happened, even if I’m a Brokenshield.”

“You’re not a Brokenshield,” said Sorus suddenly and looked at Proteus who paused for a moment and then realized what the young knight meant.

“You’ll grant me a second name?” he said, pulling his horse up short, and staring at Sorus with a strange grin on his face.

“Your boys are old enough and need to think about squiring or apprenticing in Black Dale anyway. The town needs an assistant brewer to take my place for the rest of the twelve month at least. Pick your second name, take care of the boys, and then report to Thaddeus Redhand in Black Dale for your duties. Is that understood?”

Proteus nodded his head and then raised his right hand and clenched it in the salute of Elekargul, “Thank you, Sir Sorus,” he replied. “I shall take the name Nightwalk both to honor you and because my journey took me into the darkling lands.”

Sorus suddenly blushed bright red and Jon gave out a great guffaw that seemed to release all the tension building since they left great underground complex. When the laughter finally died down, they pulled their horses up and Proteus Nightwalk wrote a short letter with a small feather quill and ink pot that came out of his saddlebag.

“How do you know to carry all that stuff?” said Jon with a shake of his head as a wry grin crossed his face. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we ran across an enraged buffalo cow and you pulled out a calf to calm her down.”

“It’s a lifetime of military duty my young friends,” said Proteus with a smile and he came over to Jon and hugged the huge boy although his head barely reached Jon’s shoulder. He turned and did the same to Sorus and then mounted his horse. Before he rode off he undid a saddlebag and tossed it to Jon. “Maybe you’ll find something useful in there one of these days! Ride north to the monastery of the Black Horse. They live in the shadows of the Mountains of the Orc and if anyone can give you advice it’s the high priest, a man named Imprilius.” He then spurred his horse and headed home at a gallop.

“Thank you, Sir Proteus,” shouted Sorus to the knight and the young warrior waved his arm for a long time at the slowly receding figure.

After a bit Jon and Sorus turned to each other and smiled, “That’s a good man,” said Jon, a broad smile on his face. “We were most fortunate to run across his farm.”

Sorus nodded, “Lucky is the right word, Jon,” he said. “I think we can just keep heading north along the edge of the mountains and we’ll get to the temple soon enough. I’ve heard of it and I’ve heard people talk about Imprilius before.”

“They say good things, I assume,” said Jon.

Sorus stopped, “You know, I’m not really sure. I think so. Proteus wouldn’t steer us wrong in any case.” With that the two boys turned their horses north and headed forward in the shadow of the mountain.

The next two days went by quickly and the boys didn’t run into anyone, although they managed to replenish their water supply from a few small streams and caught some of the little multicolored trout to supplement their diet of the plentiful wild carrots, onions, and other vegetables that seemed to grow with great abundance along the mountain range. There were also numerous patches of mushrooms, and Sorus carefully schooled Jon as to which ones were safe to eat and which were not.

Late in the afternoon on the second day they spotted a pair of figures as they rode at the same slow pace, and within a few minutes Jon recognized the hugely fat man on the draft horse although he first took his companion for a young boy. It was only when they approached closely that Jon noted the heavy chain shirt of the small rider, the four horseshoe symbol on his shoulders, and the simple slash in the middle. Jon didn’t immediately recognize the symbol but suspected its meaning almost immediately; even before Sorus jumped forom his horse and saluted with a loud, “Hail First Rider!”

Odellius rode up with a broad smile across his face, “I’ll be a four-breasted gnoll whore,” he shouted and rode right up to Jon and gave him a solid smack on the shoulder that almost felled the gray knight.

“It’s good to see you as well, Odellius,” said Jon as he winced and he tried to keep his seat. “First Rider, I am Jon Gray and my father, the Gray Lord sent me to discuss an alliance with you and your people.”

The First Rider looked at Jon carefully, “Odellius did not lie about your size,” he said with a sage nod of his head. “I’ve heard you tried to wrestle the big fellow to the ground.”

Jon smiled broadly, “It seemed to be the only strategy that gave me any chance of victory in the yard. I wouldn’t mind another crack at the old man, this time on a ground of my choosing.”

Vipsanius nodded his head, “It is most fortuitous that we meet like this emissary, Gray,” he said. “Odellius and I are on a quest and I suspect that your father sent you here less to arrange an alliance between our people and more to obtain something from the region.”

Jon looked at the First Rider for a long moment, “I cannot deny that my mission is twofold but believe me when I say that my father strongly desires the friendship of your people.”

The First Rider nodded his head again, “Perhaps we should ride on a bit and look for a place to camp; have you passed any reasonable spots in the last hour or so?”

Sorus nodded his head, “Yes, First Rider, there is a small creek about an hour or so back, it’s up against a defensible cliff.”

“What is your name, young knight?” said the First Rider as he took his horse a few steps closer to the young boy who rode beside Jon.

“I … I am Sorus Nightwalk; Sir Germanius Brokenhand knighted me before a white dragon slew him, although he killed the beast as well.”

“Well, Sir Sorus,” said the First Rider. “The knights of Elekargul are lucky to have such a man as you among our number. Sir Odellius here told me you were just a brewer boy but I’m happy that you’ve joined us. There are responsibilities associated with knighthood that do not fall upon a brewer, I trust you appreciate them.”

“Yes, First Rider,” said Sorus and once again saluted as he sat up as tall as possible in the saddle. He was significantly taller than the First Rider but not nearly as broad as the thick little man.

“Lead the way to this campsite of yours so that Jon and I can discuss both the future of our nations and this secondary quest of his,” said Vipsanius with a wave of his hand towards the south.

An hour and a half later the four made up their camp at the edge of the cliff face where a small stream flowed. Vipsanius sat by the stream, a small pole in one hand, with four trout already caught and on a line in an eddy of the stream. Jon busied himself with the fire while Sorus gathered wood and Odellius got out pots, pans, and various seasonings for the meal to come.

“Boy,” he yelled loudly to no one in particularly but Sorus, fifty yards away, a bundle of limbs in his arms, knew immediately that he was the subject of the bellow, “find some of those bay boleta mushrooms if you can, good with trout they are.”

“What do they look like?” shouted back Sorus as he bent over to pick up a fallen limb of good width.

“Brown little things with white flesh, they turn blue if you cut them,” shouted back Odellius and looked to Jon with a shrug of his shoulders. “Kids today.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” said Jon with a smile as the fire roared to life and he piled on kindling. “My father is always telling me to learn as much as I can about any region where I’m staying. He says little things can save your life. Where an animal burrows, what sort of berries are good to eat, how a predator stalks, all those things.”

“True enough,” said Odellius with a nod of his head. “How many of those fish do you have, Vipsanius?” he bellowed out to the sky.

The First Rider looked over his shoulder, “A little respect, Sir Odellius, I am the First Rider after all,” he concluded with a wry smile and a shake of his head.

“Sorry about that,” shouted Odellius as he poured a little oil from a vial into one of his pans, put a wire grill over the fire, and the pan on it. “How many of those fish do you have, First Rider?”

“That’s more like it,” said Vipsanius with a broad smile. “I’ve got four on the line and another one just about ready to take the hook. That means I’ve about enough for you but half as many as we need for all four.”

“You see what I have to put up with,” said Odellius grinning broadly and shaking his head at Jon. “No respect at all and I’m the one cooking.”

Jon smiled, “You might have made the first disrespectful comment,” he said as he lowered his chin and raised his eyebrows. “He is the First Rider after all.”

Odellius gave off a long sigh, “I can see where this is headed. I’ll just start cooking while you stick your nose further up his rear end.”

“I’m not exactly certain I can bend over that far,” said Jon as he looked over Vipsanius and his five feet six inch height. “He is a little fellow.”

“Never underestimate a man because of his appearance, Jon,” said the First Rider. “I’ve killed a lot of men who did that.”

“I believe you,” said Jon, just as Sorus returned with another armload of wood and dumped it by the fire.

“That should be enough for tonight I’d think,” he said. “Come on Odellius, leave those pots long enough to show me what these mushrooms of yours look like. I’m sure Jon and the First Rider have things they want to discuss.”

Odellius nodded his huge head and looked at the pan on the fire that had just began to pop and fizzle. “Watch that oil,” he said to both Jon and Vipsanius. “When it starts to sizzle throw one of the fish on there,” he finished and began to walk towards a small copse of trees with Sorus.

“Not much time,” said Vipsanius to Jon with a glance at the pan. “Come on and help me fillet these fish or Odellius will have our hides.” With that the First Rider went back to the stream and pulled in the line of fish. He and Jon set out to clean each one using sharp little knives made for the purpose and provided by the huge knight earlier.

“This is a lot easier with the right tool,” he said to the First Rider as they finished the first two and tossed them in the pan where the flesh immediately began to crackle and give off a delicious odor. “What sort of tool are you looking for here in Elekargul?” said Vipsanius to Jon as they continued to work at the fish that remained.

“Like I said, First Rider,” started Jon but was interrupted immediately.

“Call me Vipsanius if you will,” he said. “First Rider is more for ceremony and battle. Here in a camp I like to think I can be just a man, for a little while at least.”

“My father talks about that,” said Jon, “about how responsibility can wear a man down. I can see how your system of changing rulers every year has its advantages. I’d think that consistency of rule is important as well. You know in Caparal they elect a new ruler every four years?”

“I know something of Caparal,” said Vipsanius. “The Tales of Yumanar as written by Owondo are well known even this far south.”

“Of course,” said Jon and slapped his forehead. “How could I forget those stories? My older brother used to read them to my sister and me when we were children. The great Yumanar, who left Caparal and saved the Republic. I don’t remember them being particularly political though, mostly high adventure as Yumanar, Owondo, and the others traveled the world.”

“There are some that are more politically orientated than others; the less famous ones are more interesting from that point of view. When Owondo wrote of the different political systems they ran across he often compared it to the Republic of Caparal,” said the First Rider his hand in his chin. “As a boy they were less interesting to me, but as I’ve grown older, I find that they have their nuances on a level beyond adventure and excitement. Perhaps if the Black Horse allows me to grow older I’ll find another aspect to them as well. The stories claim Yumanar wandered for fifty years after he abdicated the throne and restored the republic. That is a long time and a lot of writing.”

“You said earlier not to judge a man by his appearance,” said Jon. “You shouldn’t judge one by his age either. I know I’m only seventeen but my father taught me to lead and to rule from even before I can remember.”

“I’m not judging you, Jon,” said the First Rider. “That being said, you are only seventeen and there is only one way to gain experience. It is good your father has sent you on this long journey, and if you survive I’m sure you will prove an able leader in Tanelorn. However, I am not particularly interested in your future as a leader. I am interested in my current rule and I think you are here for something besides making alliances. Tell me now.”

“The Staff of Sakatha,” said Jon as he looked down at the First Rider.

Vipsanius nodded his head, “You want to collect it for Tanelorn?”

“That’s right,” said Jon, “but not to use it. My father wants to keep the most powerful items of the Old Empire out of the hands of those who would use them for their own ends.”

“What if I wanted it?” said Vipsanius. “What if I promised to use it for good, to help both of our nations, to free people, to conquer the Dorians and make them a free nations, to conquer the orcs of Adas Jdar, to defeat the insect men, what if I promised all of those things?”

Jon sat silently for a moment with the knife in one hand and a half-finished fish on the rock in front of him, “My father says that the relics cloud the mind and that no one, not even with the best intentions can use them for good. He thinks that the gods, well, he doesn’t think of them as gods, just powerful creatures left over from the Old Empire now posing as gods, he thinks they warp the minds of all people and that the only chance a freedom loving nation has is to remove their influence.”

“What was that?” said Odellius as he suddenly appeared with Sorus in tow. They held a small cloth sacking bulging with round little mushrooms. “That the gods are really not gods at all?”

“Odellius,” said the First Rider, “Jon and I are discussing matters of state.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt First Rider,” said the huge man. “It’s just that what Jon says sounds like something Imprilius told me after you went to bed the other night.”

“We can discuss that at another time,” said Vipsanius and looked up to the massive knight, “for now Jon and I need to talk about this Staff of Sakatha. You and Sorus work on dinner while we finish our conversation.”

“Yes, First Rider,” said Odellius, clenched his fist in a salute, and went over to the fire to examine the fish. He immediately pulled a spatula from a leather wrap which contained a number of utensils and flipped the little fish over with practiced ease. “Bring those mushrooms, boy, we want to sauté them in this little pan here.”

“So your father plans to destroy the staff?” said Vipsanius, a small frown on his face. “I’m not sure I approve of that, but I can see where it might be best to destroy them entirely rather than let them do evil.”

Jon paused for a moment and said nothing.

“Go on,” said the First Rider and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder with a little pat.

“My father,” started Jon, “you have to understand I don’t necessarily agree with everything he says, my father isn’t certain about the entire concept of good and evil. If you, as leader of Elekargul do something like destroy the insect men, or conquer Adas Jdar in the name of freedom, isn’t that evil from the point of view of those nations? Likewise, if the reptile men of Darag’dal were to obtain the Staff of Sakatha and wage a terrible war of conquest wouldn’t that be in their own best interests?”

“What is good for me is evil for someone else,” said the First Rider with a nod of his head.

“I suppose that’s the concept,” said Jon with a shrug. “I’m not sure I totally agree with it, and my brother Val and he fight all the time about just that. But, to answer your question, my father doesn’t plan to destroy the Staff of Sakatha or any other relic of the Old Empire. He thinks that’s as bad as using them for your own ends.”

“What does he plan to do with it then?” said Vipsanius as his hand came to his chin. “It seems you either use it or destroy it and hope that your intentions are for the best.”

“My father doesn’t think anyone’s intentions are for the best when it comes to those old relics. He thinks these creatures, gods as we call them, created the relics during the Old Empire and that they warp anyone who owns one of them to their will,” said Jon. “I’ve held some of them,” went on the boy and his eyes became distant and he clasped his hands and ran his thumb over his fingers. “I think there is something to that idea.”

“You’ve held relics of the Old Empire,” asked the First Rider, and Odellius paused for a moment to listen closely to the conversation.

Jon nodded his head, “My father means to hold them, keep them away from those who would use them and be manipulated by the ancient powers,” he said. “I’m not sure it’s possible but that is the plan.”

“Wouldn’t the gods, or these creatures, however you want to describe them, simply manipulate their allies to come to Tanelorn and take them by force,” said the First Rider with a glance to Odellius and Sorus who immediately began to work on the food again.

“That’s what my brother says,” said Jon with a shrug of his shoulders. “My father thinks … well, I’m not sure what my father thinks about that. He starts using big words and philosophy and I get a little lost. My father thinks it’s important to let people act on their own, with as little influence on their minds as possible, and removing the relics is the best, if not perfect, way to achieve this.”

The First Rider nodded his head. “Does your father plan to kill the gods?”

Odellius suddenly gave a start and Vipsanius looked over at him, “Yes, Odellius, I’ve spoken with Imprilius on this subject as well, don’t be so surprised.”

Odellius laughed, “I’ll toss some of those poison mushrooms Sorus picked into your portion, not enough to kill you but you’ll have a bellyache in the morning and for a day or so.”

The First Rider laughed, “Fair enough, Odellius; now Jon, does your father plan to kill the gods?”

Jon shook his head, “I’m not really certain. He and my brother talk about things like that a lot, but I’m not always included in the conversation. I think my father wouldn’t mind if the gods just left or died or whatever but I don’t think he wants to participate actively in such a thing. I could be wrong about that.”

“It sounds like your father just wants to sit back and do nothing and take no responsibility,” said Odellius suddenly standing up and coming over to the two. “I don’t mean to interrupt, First Rider, but dinner is ready and I’m beginning not to like your father so much.”

Jon nodded his head yet again, “That’s what a lot of the younger knights say,” he said with a shrug. “They think we need to take a more active role in the world, not just sit back and wait for events to overtake us. You should hear him argue with the druids and the younger knights about invading the Rock Lord’s lands and destroying them once and for all.”

“The Rock Lord?” said Odellius.

“Enough,” said Vipsanius, “the smell of that sauce is enticing and these are matters that cannot be settled over a fireside conversation. Your father is the Gray Lord and I am the First Rider. You’ve been honest with me, Jon and when I come to a decision about what to do if we find the Staff of Sakatha and recover it I’ll be honest with you. In the meantime the food is getting cold,” he concluded with a smile, stood up, and walked over to the fire where plates of fish and mushrooms awaited.

Chapter 23

“Lord Whitebone,” said the ghoulish creature with a smile, as he looked at the great skeletal lord with his sharp teeth evident and his lips curled back in a huge grin, “in your weakened state the Great Queen of the Abyss suggests that I return to the darkling lands through your portal and proceed with the retrieval of the staff.”

Whitebone sat on his throne, his sleeve empty, his red eyes glowing a wan and dull color. He waved the hand that remained at Thantos and his voice was weak and without power, “Do as you wish Thantos. I am no longer interested in the Staff of Sakatha. I have ordered my creatures to release their hold upon the green dragon, and I no longer require your services as to the identity of the men who slew Snowball. My portal is yours to use for the usual price. Now begone from my presence.”

Thantos bowed deeply, “Your wish is my command oh great Lord Onearm,” he said and licked his lips with his huge tongue and turned his back on the throne. When the skeletal knight did not rise to the taunt he continued out and chuckled to himself as he left the room.

Silence reigned in the chamber for a long while as Whitebone sat alone on the throne with only his own thoughts to occupy him. He noted the shadowy presence before it spoke but could not rouse himself to address the creature.

“Lord Whitebone,” said Tenebrous as he emerged from the darkness and flowed forward in a liquid sort of way, “I apologize for my long absence. I offer no excuses nor do I bring false gifts to gain your support. I simply ask you to join me in an endeavor that benefits us both.”

Whitebone looked up at the shadow creature and nodded his head wearily, “I am greatly exhausted by my recent ordeal and cannot offer you much in the way of assistance Tenebrous, before I can give you anything you must simply ask.”

The shadowy creature moved so close to Whitebone that his black and insubstantial form seemed almost to envelop the white of the large warrior. “Lord Whitebone, the Staff of Sakatha is coveted by my mistress, you know this, but I do not want her to have it. As we both well know, I cannot disobey her orders.”

“I am weary, Tenebrous,” said Whitebone and leaned over on the throne and feebly waved with the one hand, “what do you want?”

“Allow me to use your portal to the darkling lands and follow Thantos,” said the shadowy form, its shape seeming to coalesce for a moment. “I cannot pay you the usual fee nor do I hold any hope to immediately relieve my debt for this service. There is some chance that if my plan comes to fruition I will return your good will, but that is unlikely and sometime in the distant future in any case.”

“Your honesty is appreciated Tenebrous, and your brevity. You may use my portal for your own purposes to travel to the darkling lands near Elekargul, but I might be in a less pleasant mood by the time you desire to return. I will not promise such access in the future,” said the great lord of the land.

“I accept your terms, Lord Whitebone,” said the shadow and slowly oozed backward and away from the throne. “I hope your health improves and our alliance proves fruitful,” said Tenebrous. “I know the way to the portal and I thank you for your boon.”

With that the shadowy creature slipped out of the room and left Whitebone alone to his thoughts once again.

Chapter 24

“High Priest Usharra, the fearsome knights patrol the region all around the hill,” said the smallish lizardman with orange and red scales along with a trio of horns, one to each side of his neck, and the last from the base of his skull. “We cannot penetrate their formation without being detected and all of our warriors are dead, the assault is impossible. We must retreat back to the ships and hope that Great Sakatha guides us home.”

Usharra waved a dismissive hand at the young acolyte and said, “Force was never our objective, young one. The loss of the warriors is a blessing from Sakatha and not a hindrance. After the horsemen patrols move on we will find the path to the Staff of Sakatha clear. Chusarausea has revealed all to me in my dreams. The Toxic One is unfettered now and able to aid us completely. The staff shall be ours, we shall raise Great Sakatha, and he shall lead us.”

“Yes, Master Usharra,” said the acolyte with a deep bow, “your wisdom is without peer and our people will owe you a debt of gratitude that cannot be repaid. Great Sakatha shall reward you with eternal life in his golden reign. The Old Empire will rise; the humans and the Usurper reborn will feel our wrath. Praise Sakatha, praise Usharra.”

The high priest nodded his head and again waved the acolyte away, “Go now, alert the other acolytes to keep close watch on the knights and prepare to cross into the mountains at a moment’s notice.”

The acolyte bowed again and slowly backed out of the room as he whispered words of worship to the high priest.

Chapter 25

“Shall we continue south,” said Jon pouring the dregs of the coffee on the smoldering fire the next morning as the four pondered their next move.

“We’ll eventually run into patrols,” said Odellius as he looked at the First Rider and stowed some pans in his large saddlebag. “If they’ve kept up with the remaining reptile men then that will guide us.”

“Where are the patrols most likely to be?” said Jon with a look to Odellius and then the First Rider, while Sorus worked carefully to pack away the remnants of the camp but remained silent.

“South,” said Odellius. “That’s where we met them in battle. We know they’re trying to get to the Mountains of the Orc, so our patrols are working their way up and down the region.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover,” said Jon as he again looked to the First Rider for an answer.

“There aren’t that many passes up into the mountains,” said Odellius, “and our men can cover those pretty well. I doubt they can slip past us completely. All of their warriors are dead and only their clerics and mages remain. Once we catch them it’ll be easy enough to destroy the few that are left.”

“We don’t want to destroy them,” the First Rider interjected himself into the conversation for the first time since his talk with Jon the previous evening. “We want to follow them. They are the only ones who know the location of the staff. We follow them to the staff and then take the thing by force.” He did not say what happened after that, leaving the question open for debate. Jon did not pursue the matter and they quietly continued to pack their gear until all stood ready. Then all four mounted their horses, the First Rider turned his steed south, and the rest followed.

They traveled for a good part of the morning without encountering anyone and the conversation was largely about the birds and small animals they saw, as Jon proved eager to learn as much as possible about the region. He and Sorus rode together in the middle while Vipsanius rode ahead and Odellius, on his massive draft horse, brought up the rear. The mountains to their left rose majestically high, with snow covered peaks visible early in the morning, but then clouds rushed in to hide their tops. Their slopes were green with trees and the sounds of a thousand birds sang through the morning. To their left the Frosty Run River occasionally meandered into view and at one point Odellius rode over to it and plunged his head into the cool waters.

When he caught up with the others his face bore a huge grin and his wet locks hung down alongside his ears, “Ahhh, the only thing better than a cold bath is a big-breasted woman with an itch that only a man such as myself can scratch.”

“How’s that,” said Jon and nudged his trotter over to Odellius.

“Ah, they used to call me Odellius Buffalodick when I was young and chased the fair sex, but I’m an old man now and shrunk down to a mere foot and half long in the pants,” said the mammoth rider as he grabbed his crotch and smiled broadly.

“It’d have to be about that long to get past that belly of yours,” said Jon, “and I fear for the poor girl trapped under your bulk.”

“Ahh my boy,” said Odellius, “Come over here, Sorus and you might learn something. I’m going to tell our little Jonny boy that there are many ways to make love to a woman, even for a big fat fellow like myself. You might learn something useful,” he finished with a wave of his great arm to the young knight.

“Sorus,” said the First Rider over his shoulder, “Odellius might exaggerate a bit but you can learn a few things from him, if you try not to take it too seriously.”

Sorus rode over to Odellius his eyes shone brightly, “Favor me with your advice, Sir Odellius of the giant prick.”

Odellius and Jon laughed aloud but then the rotund knight let his face relax into a shallow grin, “You like that Shia girl as I recall,” he said to Sorus; the boy immediately blushed, and put his head down. “There’s no shame in that,” he went on, “she’s a lovely girl, full-bodied and spirited as well. If you want to take her maidenhood you’ll have to be more aggressive in your wooing. Standing about stammering and drooling is no way to win a girl, particularly one your age. The lasses tend to like older men, something I lamented back in my youth, but which served me quite well enough over the years!” he said with a boisterous laugh. “Tell her what you want, and if she says she isn’t interested then go off and do something foolish, they like that.”

Jon nodded his head, “My sister says I’m about the most foolish boy in all of Tanelorn and the girls seem to like me alright. So, maybe this big oaf has it right.”

“I’m not like you or Odellius,” said Sorus as he sheepishly looked down at his feet in their stirrups. “I know that guys like you get all the girls, but I never thought I’d be a knight. Shia only wanted to be with one, so I guess I never really told her how I felt.”

“It’s never too late, boy,” said Odellius, “until she gets married at least, but even then the bravest of us knights have a tendency to die young; hazard of the job you know, so you can always get another crack.”

“First you tell me to do something foolish, which in our profession is likely to get me killed, and then you tell me to wait until all her other suitors do something crazy and die,” said Sorus.

“Achh, you think too much,” said Odellius, “I’ve known lads like you all my life.”

“My brother’s like that,” said Jon. “Always thinking and never doing.”

“Listen,” said Vipsanius and suddenly held up his hand, which caused the four to pull up their horses and turn their heads to the side. A moment later the sound of hoof beats became apparent to them all and, seconds after that, half a dozen fully armored knights pounded up from just over a rise and bore down upon them. As they approached and identified the group they immediately pulled aside and saluted the First Rider with clenched fists.

“First Rider Vipsanius,” said the apparent leader of the group, a tall human with pointed ears indicating some elf blood in his veins. “We’ve spotted the reptile men survivors. We allowed them to head into the hills as you commanded.”

“Lead us to the spot,” said the First Rider with a nod of his head. “But, not too close, they might set a rear guard.”

“Yes, sir,” said the man with another salute and expertly wheeled his horse. The other five men looked at Jon, Sorus and Odellius, but then turned their horses and followed the first.

“We’ll dismount and go on foot when we get close to the mountains,” ordered the First Rider looking back at the other three. “We need to follow them for as long as possible without being spotted if we hope to let them lead us to the staff. Sir Sorus, Sir Odellius, this isn’t your fight and the safety of Elekargul is not directly at stake, if you wish to leave Jon and I to pursue the mission I grant you that right.”

Sorus looked to Odellius and the young man and the older knight smiled and shook their heads in unison, “I think we’ll stay for a just a bit longer,” said the rotund knight. “I don’t know if I speak for Sir Sorus here but I’d like to see how this thing turns out in the end, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m staying with Jon,” said Sorus suddenly. “Sir Germanius ordered me to stay with him no matter what, and I’ll not let anyone tell me different, not even you First Rider Vipsanius.”

Jon turned to the young boy a puzzled expression on his face, “Sir Germanius said that?”

Sorus nodded his head, “He told me to stick with you no matter what, so you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“I like it just fine, Sorus,” said Jon with a nod of his head and he rode over to the boy and clapped him on the back. “I can’t imagine a better man to share my quests than you. No offense, Odellius but I’m not sure I can take enough food along to keep your appetites quelled.”

“None taken, boy,” said Odellius. “Sir Germanius was a good man, a bit out of touch in his later years but a fine knight and a true champion. If he thinks you and Sorus should stay together then I support that decision. Besides, I have a feeling you’ll be doing quite a lot of traveling in your lifetime, Jon, and I’m not a young man anymore despite my youthful appearance!”

“If you ladies are finished nattering,” said the First Rider as he looked over his shoulder and shook his head. “There’s a relic of the Old Empire to be found.” With that he cantered off after the other knights.

It took them almost an hour to find the spot where the reptile men broke through the ranks of the knights of Elekargul and into the mountains. The soldiers provided the four men with food, water, and supplies for their journey into the hills and took their horses.

Jon was particularly saddened to see his trotter go, “Take good care of him,” he told the powerful knight who held the reins. “She’s Tarlton bred and as fine a mount as I’ve ever had.”

The man nodded his head and, with the First Rider in the lead, the four set out into the mountains.

Chapter 26

“We will follow the debased dragon children,” said Thantos to the twenty or so gathered darklings of various shapes and sizes. The largest of them stood well over eight feet tall with pale skin and long tusks that came from a low slung jaw, while half a dozen more stood only four feet tall with nasty little blades at their sides. “They know where the Staff of Sakatha is hidden. When we retrieve the staff the Lady of the Abyss, She who has Ruled for All Eternity, will reward you well for you services.”

“Exactly how much will she reward us?” said almost the smallest of the strange creatures with the sharp knives, who wore a leer on his pale white face that exposed a double row of pointed little teeth. “I do not expect to be rewarded upon my death,” he continued, “I want a more tangible reward, ghoul.”

Thantos looked sharply at the creature, “The Mistress of the Abyss controls your soul after death so if you don’t want to spend an eternity in the deathlands than you should shut your fat little mouth.”

The creature laughed as did the two dozen others gathered around Thantos, the biggest made a sort of grunt sound and moved a step closer to the ghoul who licked his lips nervously and put up his hands in a defensive position. “Now, now, my darkling friends,” he said and backed up a step or two, “there is no need for violence. We can work this out. The Lady of the Aybss, She of the All Power, wants the Staff of Sakatha, the degenerate dragon children know where it is, and you can help me get it. This can work to our mutual benefit.”

“We await your offer, oh mighty subordinate of She Who Rules for Now,” said the little darkling creature with a wicked smile.

“You dare insult the Mistress of the Aybss,” said Thantos with a snarl at the goblin and he seemed to forget the huge creature nearby who sidled ever closer, “she will have your eternal soul for such mockery.”

“Your threats do not bother me, ghoul,” said the creature and smiled once again. “You need our help and we are willing to give it … for the right price. The Lady of the Abyss is a woman with great power and wealth but also one of capricious whims. It is well known she does not always honor her bargains and I merely wish to assure myself that our pay will be commiserate with the danger our work.”

Thantos looked at the little darkling for a long moment, then to the larger creatures, and finally to the others that surrounded him, “She promises you each five slaves and one thousand black coins,” he spat out, “is that acceptable?”

“Living slaves or mindless skeletons?” said the darkling, a wicked grin on his face.

“My Lady of the Abyss has little power over fleshy creatures such as yourself,” said Thantos. “The slaves will be deathly creatures but capable of taking simple direction. Now, is this enough or not? I grow weary of this dank place.”

The little darkling looked around to his companions and they chittered in the strange language of their species for a moment but, eventually, the leader nodded his head, “That is acceptable, oh ghoulish freak. The reptiles are currently under observation by my people as they climb the slopes of the mountain. Once they delve we will be able to find them quickly enough. In the meantime why don’t you make yourself comfortable,” he said and pointed to a wooden chair in the corner. “We’ll be in contact as soon as something happens.” With that the creature smiled, bowed ever so slightly, and walked out of the room leaving the monstrous beast behind with three of the other small darklings.

He walked a few yards down a narrow passageway to a large stone door, went through it, and closed it behind him. The door opened into a longer corridor, which he followed for twenty or so paces past two doors on his left, and one on his right, and eventually arrived in a large cathedral cavern where hundreds of the small darklings went about their business as they cooked, cleaned, and sharpened their weapons. A dozen passages led off to the side of the large chamber and the creature took one of them, walked for another hundred paces, passing open corridors on each side, and eventually arrived at a thick stone door that he opened without hesitation.

Inside the room a large wooden desk sat in one corner near a shelf that contained numerous skulls of strange creatures and other bones. Standing near the the desk was a tenuous black shape that seemed to undulate smoothly back and forth.

“Tenebrous,” said the darkling with a smile and a deeper bow than he gave to Thantos. “I apologize for the delay. I was on state business when I heard of your arrival but I came as quickly as possible. What can I do for you?”

The black form oozed and seemed to bow, if that was possible, and the deep but hollow voice spoke, “Chieftain Ramkalla, I appreciate you taking up your valuable time to see me. I am here to keep tabs on my friend Thantos. I know you harbor no love for him and hoped that you might keep me apprised of his doings?”

“What does the Lady of the Abyss offer me for such services?” replied the little darkling creature as it took a seat behind the large desk and ran sharp fingernails over the surface which caused an odd little squeal to permeate the air. “My people do not do the bidding of the Mistress of Death for free,” he said.

The black cloud ebbed for a long moment before the voice that came from its interior suddenly sounded again. “I am currently working for myself, having had a falling out with She Who Rules Eternally,” it said both deeply and slowly. “This is my task and I will supply any and all payments.”

“What does a shadow have to tender,” said Ramkalla with a shrug of his shoulders. “You do not have any power in the Abyss other than to do your ladies’ bidding, you certainly have no power here in the darkling lands, and you have little, if anything, that I desire. So, Tenebrous, although we have worked together successfully in the past I do not see common ground for us today.”

Tenebrous oozed slowly over to the desk as long blackish tendrils floated out to either side, “I do not ask you to do anything other than keep me informed of his location,” said the thick voice. “In return I offer you the death of an enemy of your choice. I do not have wealth nor power, as you state, but I can still bring death, it is the one thing the Lady of the Abyss allows me to do.”

“An intriguing offer, Tenebrous, but what if I were to demand the death of an important being in the world, someone wnose power exceeds your own?” said the darkling leaning back in his chair and smiling broadly, his many sharp teeth exposed.

“The choice is yours to make although the likelihood of my success under such circumstances is relatively slim. Yet I will endeavor to carry it out if that is your request,” said Tenebrous his dark form flowing out and around the desk.

“That is a reasonable offer, Tenebrous,” said the Ramkalla with a shrug of his shoulders. “It makes sense for me to name only something you are capable of slaying and the service is relatively small. As you know, I never cared much for Thantos and that disgusting tongue of his. I agree to your terms but the question of whom you shall slay is open-ended. I can ask at any time in the future when, perhaps, your power has grown from its current state.”

Tenebrous drew up for a moment, his form coalescing into a vaguely humanoid shape with a head and arms but then relaxing back into its wavy blob shape, and the creature spoke again, “That is acceptable Chieftain Ramkalla.”

The chieftain smiled happily, “Then, you should know that your friend Thantos is not more than two hundred steps from this location. He awaits word of news from the surface dwellers and, when given that, plans an excursion into our territory. When that happens I will inform you of his further movements and keep you abreast during his stay in my territory. In the meantime, can I offer you anything? Food, drink, women, boys?”

“I have little need for such things,” said Tenebrous, “a simple chamber in which to meditate and perhaps receive visitors is sufficient.”

The little darkling nodded his head and smiled again to display his many teeth, “Very well, Tenebrous. One of my assistants will make sure your needs are accommodated. Now, if you don’t mind I’ve important tribal business to which to attend.”

Tenebrous slid out of the chamber and under the door, his smoky form capable of movement through apparently even the smallest opening. Ramkalla watched for a moment, shook his head, and then snapped his finger; within a few seconds another little darkling of the same species entered the room from a small side door cleverly built into the chamber to look like nothing more than the cave wall.

“Yes, chieftain?” he said and bowed deeply.

“See that Tenebrous is given a room in which to mediate, it need not contain any amenities,” he said with barely a look up from his desk where some thick papers awaited his attention. “Inform me as soon as the reptiles head underground.”

He servant bowed deeply again, “Sire?”

“If you have important news then say it,” said the chieftain with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to ask for permission.”

“Yes, great chieftain,” said the underling with another deep bow. “It does not come under your direct orders but there are some freeriders who follow the lizards in the mountains.”

Ramkalla looked up sharply, “Freeriders you say?” he said. “That is most unpleasant news. That first batch of them killed my best warriors.”

“Yes, master,” said the simpering subordinate.

“How many of them and do they appear powerful?” went on the chieftain and looked at his hireling with steady black eyes as he fingered the little knife at his side.

“Four master, and Unglata reports that he thought one was the leader of them, the First Rider,” said the creature and took a step back and his eyes wide.

“What!” shouted Ramkalla. “Why was I not informed of this immediately. The First Rider in the mountains? There is more to this than I realized. First Thantos shows up wanting to track a group of reptiles in the mountains, then that devious Tenebrous wants to keep track of Thantos, and now the leader of the freeriders tracks the creatures as well. Why was I not informed immediately?”

The little darkling fell to his knees and raised his hands to the prayer position, “Oh great chieftain, mighty leader of the Skullbone Tribe, our scouts only just found out about this and we reported it as quickly as possible.”

“Lies!” shouted the leader of the darklings. “My orders didn’t cover these circumstances and you assumed they were outside the scope of this operation. Don’t deny it!”

“My master, forgive me,” pleaded the little darkling creature his head bowed, “I came to you as soon as I knew but our scouts did not report it to me immediately.”

“Then you are to blame for not giving them correct orders,” said Ramkalla. “Leave me alone to think for a moment.”

“Yes, master,” said the poor little servant, his legs shaking so badly he had to put his hand on the large desk to pull himself to his feet. “I await further commands,” he said stumbling out of the room, his already ashen face almost ghostly white and his hands trembling.

“I should have held out for a higher price,” said the chieftain to himself as he looked up at the stone ceiling where little sparkly minerals glinted back at him. “I should have guessed as soon as Tenebrous showed up that this was more than a simple job for the Mistress of the Abyss. I’ve been a fool again! A fool.” He snapped his fingers once more and immediately the aide reappeared from the hidden door.

“Summon the war master and my wizard,” ordered Chief Ramkalla without a glance up from the papers he now held in his hand. “Immediately with no delay. If you can manage this, I might let you live.”

“Oh, thank you master,” said the creature and bowed down so far his head touched the floor and his voice rose a couple of octaves. “I won’t let you down, chieftain, you can count on me.”

“Stop yammering and start following my orders!” shouted Ramkalla and suddenly looked up with fire in his eyes. “There is no time for this sort of simpering. You need to follow my orders quickly, immediately, and without question from here on out. The fate of our tribe rests in you doing this, do you understand?”

“Yes, master,” said the servant who bobbed his head up and down quickly. “I understand.”

“Then go right now and bring me the war master,” said Ramkalla as he stood up suddenly from behind his desk and walked to the other side of the room. Here he paused for a long moment, wheeled around, and then marched to the other side of the chamber, a process which continued for quite some time.

That is how the wizard and warlord of the tribe found him fifteen minutes later when they arrived in the chamber. The warlord was a tall creature with mottled white and black fur that looked vaguely like an upright hyena while the wizard was of the same species as the chieftain although somewhat taller, thinner, and with a strange bluish tint to his skin. Both men waited as the chieftain paced up and down in the chamber as they awaited his orders.

“Melwani, Samprokus,” he finally said as he came to a halt. “When the damned white dragon, the dragon child, and my brother interrogated those freeriders we captured did either of you overhear what they said.

Both men shook their heads but it was the warrior, Samprokus who spoke up, “Your brother did not allow us access, chieftain,” he said.

“I’m well aware of what my brother did and did not allow,” said Ramkalla, “What I asked was if either of you two showed any initiative and tried to find out the results of their conversation.”

The two looked at each for a moment and then the warrior spoke again, “I was unable to learn anything, chieftain. The white dragon did not want us involved and those creatures have superior hearing and sight as you well know. We did not want to risk being found out.”

“Likely enough you didn’t even try,” said Ramkalla with a dismissive wave of his hand, “but that is not of any importance whatsoever. Those damned freeriders are up in the mountains again and this time following reptiles. My brother was up to something and now that despicable Thantos is involved and so is Tenebrous. We must find out what this Staff of Sakatha can do that it is so important.”

“The Staff of Sakatha,” blurted out Melwani suddenly.

“Yes, you know of it?” said Ramkalla and suddenly turned on his wizard. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“This is the first I heard of it,” said the wizard with a bow. “It is a relic of the Old Empire and belongs to one of the great lords, Sakatha.”

“The Old Empire,” said the chieftain suddenly and smacked his fist into his palm. “That lying piece of undead waste. He said it was a fight between the Mistress of the Abyss and her sister.  What does this staff do exactly?” he said to the wizard and moved over to stand directly in front of the man.

Melwani looked to the warrior, then back to Ramkalla, and managed to somehow keep from a shrug “It’s not easy to say exactly, chieftain.”

“Then say inexactly,” said Ramkalla just as the first little servant came into the room, a look of pained fear on his face. “What do you want?”

“The reptile men,” said the cringing little darkling as he tried to look anywhere in the room except at one of its occupants.

“What about them?” said the chieftain his eyes wide with fury, “why is getting a simple report from you so difficult?”

“I don’t …,” started the darkling but then, catching glimpse of the storm clouds that gathered in the eyes of the chieftain, switched in midsentence, “they came below ground just a few minutes ago but in the old mine shafts,” he finally said with a blurt.

“The old shafts,” said the chieftain his face scrunched up so much that his wrinkles appeared to multiply many times. “There’s nothing down there at all.”

There was silence in the room for a moment.

“Shall I tell Thantos?” said the servant as it cringed.

“Damn,” said the chieftain as looked up at the ceiling of the chamber. “It all has to happen at the same time, doesn’t it?”

No one said anything.

“Fine, tell Thantos and have a dozen or so men take him to the old mines,” said Ramkall with a long sigh. “Wizard, tell me everything you know about the staff.”

“It belonged to a great leader of the dragon children long ago, a creature named Sakatha. He worked with His August Magesty, the Great Emperor himself and rode a terrible dragon whose very pores exuded a toxic gas so poisonous that only the holder of the staff could ride the beast,” said the wizard.

“What else,” said Ramkall tapping on his large desk with rapidly moving fingers.

Just at that moment the cringing figure re-appeared, a look of abject misery on his face, “Master,” he said and dropped to his knees and placed his forehead on the ground. “I informed the ghoul and he goes to the old mines. I wonder if I should now inform Tenebrous of this?” he said as he pathetically wrung his hands together, his face still down on the floor.

“By the Dark Demon Lords I cannot take any more of this,” said the chieftain and slammed his fist into the table.

The little servant made a weak little grunt of a sound and kept his head glued to the floor.

“Yes, of course, tell Tenebrous, let’s get as my people involved in this thing as possible,” he stated and the creature on the floor immediately began to crawl backward and toward the door.

“The staff, damn you Melwani,” said the chieftain and turned back to the wizard as he moved to within a few inches of his face. “I don’t care about the history, I don’t care about Sakatha or this dragon; what powers does the staff have and why would the reptiles want it, why does Thantos want it,  what does Tenebrous want, and what in the Nine Hells can the freeriders want with it?”

“It is a sovereign remedy against poison, I suspect,” said the wizard with a shrug of his shoulders. “It might have some power over dragons.”

“These are not facts but speculations,” said the chieftain as he spun around. “It’s pointless. We cannot betray or support one cause without risking the wrath of the others. Can we use the thing ourselves? No, that is insanity. There is no solution.”

“Yes, it is speculation merely, great chieftain,” said Melwani with a shrug. “These relics of the Old Empire are thousands of years old and their exact powers are unknown. If it is, indeed, even the real staff.”

“Get out, all of you get out!” screamed the chieftain and suddenly put his hands to his head. “I must make a decision and I can’t think with all of you talking so. Get out of my sight now!”

The two remaining darklings immediately left the chieftain on his own, and he paced back and forth along his room for several minutes as his hands waved and little disjointed statements came out of his mouth. The two stood in the antechamber and looked at each other until little servant returned. They said nothing and waited in silence as an occasional outburst came from the room. At one point a tall darkling with a thick wool cloak and leather leggings entered the waiting room, went into the corner with the servant for a moment, and spoke for a short period of time. The little servant’s face became a mask of terror as the conversation progressed and he looked at the wizard and the warrior for a moment and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.

“Out with it,” said the wizard.

“Our scouts report on the movement of the lizards, Thantos, Tenebrous, and the freeriders,” he said as tears began to form in his eyes.

“Oh the sake of the Black Lord, spit it out you coward and I’ll tell Ramkall,” said the warrior, grabbed the poor creature by the collar, and lifted him into the air.

“They have found a secret chamber unknown to our miners,” said the pitiful creature as it clutched at the warrior with weak fingers.

“We’ve mined these mountains for a thousand years,” said the warrior suddenly dropping the little servant, who fell to the ground with a thump and gave out as squeal as his knee twisted under him. “A secret chamber? How is this possible?”

The wizard strode immediately to the door and opened it with a burst, “Chieftain, a crisis approaches, and you must make a decision!”

“A crisis, you tell me a crisis, as if I didn’t know that. I must choose between the Lady of the Abyss, Tenebrous, the reptiles, and my own tribe,” he shouted. “Do you think I’m in here twiddling my thumbs and calling for girls?”

“They have uncovered a secret chamber hidden all these years,” said Melwani as he looked hard at his leader. “They are guided somehow into areas hidden by great magic. We must decide whether to unleash our warriors on all of them, or to back one side or the other. The time of decision is now, chieftain. You cannot dawdle in your thoughts any longer.”

Ramkall suddenly stopped and glared at the wizard, “Of course you are right. Thantos works for the Lady of the Abyss and her power is greatest. The children of dragon are far away and can largely do nothing. The freeriders are dangerous on the plains yes, but they cannot hurt us in the mountains or below the ground, at least not severely. We must back the Mistress of the Abyss.”

“And Tenebrous,” said Melwani in a quiet voice.

“That creature is doomed,” said the chieftain with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He thinks to betray the Great Lady of Death. He will undoubtedly return to the Deathlands once again to see if he can find his way out. His power is not for us to worry about. Samprokus,” he shouted suddenly and walked to the door, “gather your warriors, we will attack the reptile men and the freeriders and disperse them to clear the way for Thantos.”

“And Tenebrous,” repeated the wizard.

“Let him fend for himself,” said the chieftain with a smile. “This is about the survival of my people and he can ooze into the wastes as far as I care.” Ramkall turned to the warlord and looked him steadily in the eye, “You heard my orders and will carry them out?”

Samprokus nodded his head, “I will gather the warriors for the attack.”

Chapter 27

“I don’t like this traipsing about underground,” said Odellius looking up at the low ceiling only a few inches above his head as he put his hand on the rough cut stone wall.

“These mines are old,” said First Rider Vipsanius as he also put his hand on the stone. “No one’s cut here in centuries and the support beams are rotted to nothing. I suggest we move cautiously from here on out.”

Jon nodded his head, “It does seem dangerous in here, but those reptile men went before us and nothing looks caved in. Maybe it’s sturdier than it looks?”

“We move with caution,” said the First Rider again as he ran his hand over the rough wall. “The lizard creatures are even less used to underground travel than us and if they set off a cave-in, we might suffer the consequences.”

“Their trail is easy enough to follow,” said Odellius looking at a webbed footprint in a little muddy rivulet that emerged from the nearby wall. “They take no precautions and do not imagine they are followed.”

“Nor do we take precautions,” said Vipsanius and looked into the darkness; the glow stone in his hand penetrated just far enough ahead to see the narrow corridor sweep around to the right. “These caves are occupied by darklings I’d guess and they do not like visitors.”

“We killed a darkling,” said Sorus his eyes wide in the gloom. “They didn’t seem so tough,” he continued and put his hand to the blade at his side. It was difficult to believe that not many days ago Sir Germanius used it to fight the white dragon.

“They come in many shapes and sizes,” said Odellius and put his own huge hand on the thick blade at his side. “I’ve seen them eight feet tall and covered with black fur,” he continued, “and wizards and priests as well. The little ones come in waves and they pop out from any nook or cranny. Do not take them lightly. We defeat them easily enough on the surface as they cannot stand up against a cavalry charge but here, in their black lands, we are the strangers and our tactics a disadvantage.”

Vipsanius nodded, “Odellius is right, Sorus, never underestimate a foe in any case. That’s a certain way to die. I’ll take the lead; spread out a few feet between each man so we can keep watch and move slowly. Sorus, you come second, Jon third, and Odellius bring up the rear.”

The four immediately spread out in this order with the appropriate amount of space between them as each looked up to the ceiling and the many rocky protrusions that seemed to hang over them like dark clouds on a cold day. “They could be anywhere,” said Jon as he pulled out his huge gray sword and poked at a little hole in the wall.

“They’ll see us before we see them,” said the First Rider shining his light ahead. “Their eyes are light sensitive and they only use dark red and blue glow stones. Our bright lights will attract their attention long before we see them.”

“They’ll know about the reptile men too,” said Sorus with a grin, “and they’re in front of us.”

“That’s true,” said Vipsanius from up ahead, “but it doesn’t mean they won’t attack us. The reptiles might have an alliance with the creatures down here, something prearranged.” Suddenly the First Rider came to a complete halt and stared at the passageway that opened to his right.

“What is it,” said Sorus from directly behind.

“Look at this,” said the First Rider, his hand on the stone cut as he ran it back and forth. “It’s smooth, like glass, like a door frame.”

Jon and Odelluis came up to examine the wall and nodded their heads. “What does it mean?” said Jon, “I’m not much for caving.”

“I’ve read about cuts like this,” said the First Rider as his hand came to his chin, “but I’ve never seen the like. It might be a secret passageway just opened by the lizards,” he said and shone his light down the path. “Or someone just cut this pathway with significantly more precision than any we’ve yet found.”

“I don’t like the idea of coincidence,” said Odellius as he paused to take a look behind him just in the nick of time as a little darkling warrior stabbed at his back with a sharp knife. “Watch it,” he shouted, turned his body to the left, lifted his sword, and caught the creature under the chin with the hilt of his blade. The creature flew through the air, smashed into the wall behind them with a crash, and then crumpled to the floor.

More of the little creatures came out of nooks and crannies in the wall in a wave, and a huge, furry beast with four horns coming out of its head joined them from the open corridor ahead of the First Rider.

Jon, nearest to Odellius, flicked his huge stone blade at the first of the charging little creatures and connected, which immediately sent it to the floor with a crushed skull and one eyeball popped out of its socket. Odellius formed up with Jon, although the two of them barely fit side by side in the corridor, and faced off against the dozen or so creatures that came at them. One of the beasts, attached to the wall like a giant black spider, launched a dagger that sailed by Jon’s ear and hit the First Rider in the back of the shoulder, but luckily hilt first as it spun half a rotation too far.

Jon leaped at that foe, his long reach catching the creature by surprise, and chopped its arm off with a little flick of his wrist. Odellius reached up and grabbed a second creature that tried to drop from the rocks behind him and used it as a shield when a brace of daggers flew through the air. The young knight of gray raised his sword to swing again but the narrow confines of the cave knocked his swing off target and the little darkling he tried to hit dodged easily away and, with a riposte strike, nicked Jon’s arm just under his chain shirt.

“It’s too damn close in here,” shouted Odellius, dropping his sword and hurling the dagger-poked darkling past Jon. It smashed into two more of the beasts that hung from the wall. “Just smash ‘em.”

Jon instantly dropped his sword and plucked another creature from the wall, his massive grip catching it around the leg. He squeezed hard and a snap was followed by a high-pitched shriek. He tossed the creature at another up ahead; the second creature tried to dodge, and this allowed the huge gray knight to stride forward and punch it in the face shattering its nose and cheekbones. It seemed almost instantly that Odellius joined him, and their fists snapped the faces, ribs, arms, and legs of the two or three creatures that remained while the rest suddenly fled into little nooks and crannies in the walls.

At the front of the long corridor Vipsanius and Sorus stood side by side as a massive shaped loomed out of the darkness. It stood over seven feet tall, was covered by thick white fur, its pink eyes glared out at them, and it held a massive stone club in its hand. “Steady,” said the First Rider with a quick nod to Sorus as they pulled out their blades.

“I’ve got your left,” said the boy as his feet shuffled, and he moved a few inches backward unintentionally. The creature did not have room to swing its massive weapon in an arc so instead lunged forward more like a fencer with a rapier, and Sorus brought up his own sword to deflect the blade before Vipsansius could stop him. The weight of the stone smashed aside Sorus’s blade and his arm suddenly went numb as the club caught him between the elbow and the shoulder. The First Rider jabbed forward with his own blade, the tip embedding itself in the beast’s shoulder. It screamed in pain and whipped the club around towards Vipsanius, but the First Rider managed to bring up his shield and soften the blow although the force still knocked him against the wall with a thump.

A terrible splash of dark blood poured from the wound in the creature’s shoulder, which it stared at stupidly for a moment before it raised the club again and brought it down in a short arc against the shield of the First Rider. The metal shield rang out as the stone club hammered down and drove Vipsanius back, his head snapped against the wall with a loud thud. He saw little yellow stars twirling around his head for a moment as the creature reached forward with its free hand to grab him around the neck, but the First Rider managed a quick slash with this sword that severed the massive paw at the wrist and set a spurt of blood cascading in an arc across his eyes.

At that moment Sorus stabbed at the back of the creature with a small knife gripped in his left hand and plunged it deeply into the flesh of the beast. The thing roared, spun around with its fist into Sorus’s shoulder, sent the boy down and across the floor, but this gave the First Rider a momentary respite in which he gathered his wits.

When the beast turned to face Vipsanius the man lunged forward with his blade and buried it in the thing’s neck which killed it instantly. The beast’s legs immediately collapsed, it fell forward against the First Rider, and pinned him against the wall with a crash.

Jon and Odellius, just returned from their own battle, came up on the First Rider just like that when they returned to the doorway. Sorus lay on the floor in a heap and gave off a soft groan while the great furry creature lay, half upright, against the wall. It wasn’t until Vipsanius called out, “A little help here,” that they realized the location of the First Rider.

Odellius peered around the side of the beast and spotted Vipsanius pinned to the wall as he pushed mightily, but completely ineffectually, to remove the burden.

“Once, in my youth, I hired out a Bugbear whore but I’m guessing her embrace proved more pleasant than this one?” he said with a smile. “Jon, come here and lend us a strong shoulder, the First Rider’s gotten himself in a jam.”

Jon had gone over to Sorus and shook the boy’s shoulder to make sure of his health, “Are you all right, Sorus?” but turned to look back at the words of Odellius. “I’ll be right there.”

Sorus looked up at Jon, his eyes unfocused but immediately spotted the bloody area under his arm, “You’re wounded,” he said and reached forward immediately feeling a wave of nausea and slumping back down. “I think I hit my head.”

“You’ll be ok,” said Jon. “Just sit there and don’t move for a bit. I’ve got to help Odellius and Vipsanius,” he continued, stood, and headed back to where the other two members of the party awaited him. He arrived and looked over the situation for a few moments, “Can you breathe all right?” he said to the First Rider who nodded his head and grimaced.

“I can breathe mostly fine except for this big furry lump on my chest,” he said. “It’s bled all over me and I don’t suppose anybody packed a creek?”

“No,” said Odellius with a laugh as Jon moved under the thing with his left shoulder and braced himself against the wall. The rotund knight wrapped his arms around the blood-soaked creature and said, “One, two, and heave!”

Jon pushed, Odellius pulled, and for a moment it looked like nothing happened, but then the creature slumped over to one side and then crashed to the floor as more blood flowed from the open wound at its neck.

“Big fella,” said Jon as he looked down on the creature.

“Indeed,” said Odellius. “All we had to fight was a bunch of wee little one with daggers,” he went on as he looked over the First Rider carefully. “You don’t look wounded, just a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine,” said Vipsanius who now took the time to examine Jon and Odellius. “Sir Odellius, get some cloth bandages from my pack and attend to that wound under Jon’s arm. I’ll see to Sorus, he might have a broken arm.”

Jon sat down and let Odellius peel off first his outer jerkin and then the heavy chain shirt, “The dwarves of your land must have mined out an entire mountain to forge all these links,” he said as he eyed the massive thing and then dropped it to the ground with a clank. “You do have dwarves up north, and they do mine for ore?”

Jon nodded, “We do and they do. They were one of the first independent nations to join my father in the alliance of Tanelorn,” he said with a smile. “A dwarf named Sir Pedlow Fivefist from a place called Stav’rol, you might have heard of it, one of the great cities of the Old Empire.”

“I’ve heard of it, but know little. Now, this might hurt a bit,” he said, pulling out a small flask and dipping the clean cloth bandage in it. “But we don’t want that wound to get infected and we’re without a healing priest.” With that he slapped the bandage on Jon whose eyes grew wide but he did not cry out.

“That’s smarts a bit,” he said through teeth firmly clenched.

“Now, then, you’re a strong lad,” said Odellius, “a little pain is good for you now and again. It lets you know you’re alive.”

“True enough, mmmh,” said Jon as the big bellied knight began wrapping a dressing around the bandage and made sure to pull it snug.

Jon looked over to Sorus and the First Rider for a moment and then back to Odellius. “If Sorus’s arm is broken that makes things more difficult; do you train your fighters to work with both hands?”

“Some fighters do,” said Odellius, “but remember Sorus is a brewer by training, if he took any sword work at all it was on his own without supervision. I don’t think he’ll be of much use to us from here on, but he’s a brave lad and that’s good enough.”

Jon nodded, “True,” he finally said as Odellius finished his wrapping. “Besides with you, me, and the First Rider I’d imagine we’re a formidable force against any enemy.”

Odellius nodded, “Two men and two boys against the darkling hordes, it sounds like a good story indeed. I hope that was just a random party of the things and not a concerted attack.”

Jon looked at Odellius, “I hope you’re right, but I suspect it’s far more than that. The creatures worked with the white dragon Germanius slew, and they have to know about the Staff of Sakatha,” he said as he got to his feet. “I can’t imagine they want us walking around down here, and there are all those reptile men roaming about as well. It’s possible they stirred up the darklings and we just cleaned up the mess,” he finished.

Odellius stood and helped Jon put his armor and jerkin back on, “We should move as fast as possible then. The reptiles men are down to mainly priests and not warriors. If the darklings want to destroy them it won’t be particularly difficult and we need them to lead us to the staff.”

Suddenly the First Rider looked up from Sorus whose eyes now seemed steady and strong, “That’s it, of course,” he said and stood up with a snap of his fingers. “The reptile men know where the staff is and we’re all just following them, the darklings too!”

“He’s right,” said Sorus as he got to his feet. “Jon, that white dragon knew you! Its master, that skeletal thing, was working with the dragon children, and the reptile men, so far from Darag’dal, it does make sense.”

“Are we sure that Lord Whitebone was the dragon’s master?” said Jon, looking at Sorus and putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Of course,” said Sorus, bobbing his head up and down. “That’s why it attacked as soon as you explained that we, that Sir Germanius, killed the thing. You saw how angry it got when we told the story. It was here to negotiate with the lizards or the dragon children for information about the Staff of Sakatha. Then we came along and ruined the plan.”

“That all my be true,” said the First Rider, “but if the thing suddenly reappeared now after who knows how many centuries, what is guiding them, and why?”

“I don’t know,” said Sorus.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Jon, “at least not at the moment. We need to find those reptiles as fast as possible,” and looked at the floor for signs of their passage.

“Over here,” said Odellius as he pointed to a little green splotch on the floor, “It’s a good thing they chew tobacco,” he said with a grin. “Remind me to liberate a few pouches after we kill them. I’ve had it only twice before when traders brought it from Darag’dal. They say the lizards grow the finest tobacco deep in their swamps.”

“You’ve had that filthy habit since you were six years old,” said the First Rider, shaking his head and looking at Odellius.

“Not true,” replied the rotund warrior, “it was my seventh birthday celebration when my uncle gave me my first pouch.”

Jon looked at Sorus and then to the two men giggling like young girls, “You’d think we weren’t on an important mission,” he said, and the young knight of Elekargul shrugged his shoulders.

“Old people are weird,” he said and then led the way down the corridor indicated by Odellius. The two older warriors managed to stifle their laughter long enough to follow Sorus and Jon.

Jon took the lead as the passageway opened up slightly, Sorus kept five feet behind him, while the two older knights followed along in line with the First Rider now in the rear and Odellius behind the young brewer. Jon watched the ground for signs of the green spittle-like substance that the reptile creatures spat out at regular intervals and this kept them along the right passage despite the many twists, turns, and side tunnels.

“Is anyone keeping track of how many turns we’re making,” said Sorus at one point as he looked backwards towards Odellius and his eyes darted back and forth. “I’m totally lost, I don’t know how deep we’ve gone, how long we’ve been here, or what direction we’re facing.”

“It’s easy to get turned around underground,” said Odellius, “but all we have to do is follow the spit trail back to the surface after we find the staff.”

“I guess that’s true,” said Sorus and started forward again his lip twitching nervously, his broken right arm in a sling fashioned by Vispsanius, and a small knife clenched in his left. “By the Black Horse I don’t like being down here at all. I yearn for the open plains of Elekargul, a fiery steed under my hand.”

“Since when do you have a fiery steed?” said Jon as he took a glance over his shoulder, “other than the one you borrowed from Sir Germanius, which, by the way, you’ll want to return to his family eventually.”

“It’s just a figure of speech,” said Sorus with a grin on his face and his lip stopped its twitching for a moment. “I’ve ridden a few ponies before you came along.”

“I’ll miss that trotter of mine if we don’t make it back to the surface alive,” said Jon as he looked again and shone his light down both ends of a double turn in the passage. “I’ll have to remember to stop in Tarlton and pick up some breeding stock to take back to Tanelorn. First Rider,” he continued, “I’m not sure which passage to take here, it goes two ways and I don’t see any stains on the floor down either corridor.”

The First Rider and Odellius came forward so that all four of them stood together in the passage, “One pick is as good as the next,” he said and peered down each passage. “Who feels lucky?”

Silence greeted this question.

“Fine then,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll choose.” With that he headed down the passage to his right with short but steady little strides.

Jon put his hand out palm up and looked at Sorus and Odellius, “Gentlemen, after you.”

Sorus followed the First Rider, Odellius went third, and Jon brought up the rear. They followed the passage for perhaps forty or fifty steps when the First Rider suddenly stopped and looked into a little corner where his light seemed unable to penetrate. He held up his hand and Sorus stopped a few feet behind him which brought both Odellius and Jon to a halt as well.

“Who’s there?” asked the First Rider as he squinted and tried to peer into the impenetrable darkness that suddenly seemed to coalesce into a vaguely humanoid form. Vipsanius immediately took a step back, almost bumped into Sorus, and raised his sword. “Who is it?”

The dark shadow slid forward over the ground as Sorus, Odellius, and Jon moved up to join the First Rider, “Watch behind us,” he said in a low voice and pointed backwards to Sorus who immediately turned to watch the passage to their rear.

“I am called Tenebrous,” said the dark shadow with a deep voice that seemed to come from nowhere and all around them at the same time. “I think I might be of help to you.”

“What manner of creature are you?” said Vipsanius as he looked it up and down and tried to see any sort of shape or form to the thing.

“I am a shadow escaped from the Deathlands and kept permanently in this condition by She who Rules the Abyss,” said Tenebrous, his form shifting subtly from one shape to the next.

“How can you help us?” said the First Rider as he kept his sword at the ready position and narrowed his gaze on the creature.

“The Staff of Sakatha is near,” said the shadowy creature as its form winnowed down and flowed backwards down the corridor. “Time is of the essence. You must follow me to the staff and take it. I will then lead you out of this region.”

“Don’t trust him,” said Sorus, “he’s a darkling creature of some kind.”

“He serves the Lady of the Abyss at the very least,” said Odellius who stepped forward and his massive bulk filled almost the entire corridor. “The Staff of Sakatha is a powerful relic of the Old Empire and something she no doubt desires.”

“I am bound to obey The Lady in all her orders,” said Tenebrous with a slow drawl, “but her commands do not cover every eventuality and with some creativity I am able to pursue my own agenda.”

The First Rider looked at the creature and again tried to discern any sort of form, but the billowy nature of the thing defeated his every attempt, “Why should I trust you?”

Tenebrous gave off a low laugh, “I can offer you no assurances, nor do I even know who you are. I assume you are here following the lizard creatures and want the Staff of Sakatha for yourself. I know the gray boy came to this region for that purpose, and you must be his allies.”

Jon stepped forward, “You know me as well?”

“My mistress told me of your presence in the region before I was relieved of my duties in this quest,” he said. “I’ve spoken with your brother Valarius Tarragonus about certain relics your father has acquired and one in particular that interests me.”

“My father has something you want?” said Jon as Odellius, Sorus, and Vipsanius looked at one another with quick glances.

“Sadly,” said the black cloud, “no. Your father is not aware of the location of the particular relic that I seek but he is a resourceful man and your brother a powerful mage. If I help you in this situation then I hope to garner goodwill should any information about the item I seek be unearthed.”

Jon looked to the First Rider and shrugged his shoulders, “Everything he says about my brother is true, but he is well-known in Tanelorn and the surrounding regions.”

“Why don’t you take the staff for yourself,” said Vipsanius as he lowered his sword slightly.

The creature suddenly reached his smoky hand forward towards the First Rider who flinched away even as the smoke passed through the man, “In my current condition it is not possible to grasp and hold things I might desire. Therefore, I find myself reduced to dependence upon others for aid in this regard. Now, Jon Gray and companions, I said time was of the essence and I did not lie. The dreams of Chusarausea the great green dragon guide the dragon children and they close in on the ancient location of the Staff of Sakatha. My colleague, a ghoul named Thantos, guided by darklings, follows and means to ambush them when they break into the final chamber.”

“How close are they?” said Vipsanius and suddenly stepped close to the creature and lowered his sword.

“I am uncertain,” said the dark cloud. “I know that the dreams of the dragon became unfettered recently and they are moving directly towards a location somewhere in the region. I assume it is one of the ancient white marble temples of the Old Empire but I do not know for certain. If we continue to stand here and debate, then Thantos will gain the staff and return it to the Lady of the Abyss.”

The First Rider looked to Odellius who nodded his head with one quick motion and then to Jon who smiled, “What do we have to lose?”

“Our lives,” said Sorus as he looked to the dark cloud.

“That goes without saying,” said the First Rider a grin on his face. “All right, Tenebrous,” he said. “I am First Rider Vipsanius Coppercoin and we will follow you to the Staff of Sakatha.”

The black cloud became silent and immediately began to flow down the corridor in the direction in which they were already headed.

“At least I picked the right direction,” said the First Rider with a shrug and a smile as his short little legs followed after the dark shadow. “Spread out and follow me.”

Sorus went second, Jon third, and Odellius brought up the rear. Tenebrous led them down a series of corridors and then suddenly halted in the middle of non-descript hallway.

“What’s wrong?” said Vipsanius as he came up behind the creature.

“I must calibrate myself to travel with fleshy creatures,” said the shadow and paused for a moment. “I can move through a certain thickness of solid material and did not consider that when leading you. We must go around.”

“How thick?” said Odellius as he came forward to where the duo stood.

The shadow said nothing and floated in front of the stone wall for a long moment.

“I said,” said Odellius moving to within a few inches of the thick cloud, “how thick is the wall?”

“Perhaps a foot,” said Tenebrous as his form wavered in the strange shadowy light cast by the stones.

“How long will it take us to go around?” continued Odellius as Jon moved forward and put his hand on the wall with a speculative touch.

“I’m not sure,” said Tenebrous the thick voice slowed down even more than usual. “I did not calculate your presence in my original plan.”

“Limestone,” said Jon with a nod of his head and a sudden kick at the wall that sent a small spray of rocks in all directions. “With picks and a sledges it’s a ten minute job at most but we’ll have to use our weapons. It could take some time.”

“Wait,” said the shadowy voice. “Back aways, there is an old storage area with digging equipment. No more than a hundred paces.”

Vipsanius looked to Sorus and Odellius, “Go with Tenebrous and bring what we need; Jon, you and I will start working.”

With that Tenebrous led Sorus and Odellius back the way they came and left Jon and Vipsanius alone. Jon began to kick at the wall which knocked off little showers of rock while the First Rider used the hilt of his sword to dig holes.

“Can we trust him?” said Jon, jamming his heel into an indentation in the rock as they worked at the stone wall.

“Of course not,” said Vipsanius as he dug a hunk of rock out of the wall, his short, powerful arms flexed at the effort, “but that isn’t going to stop us from following him.”

“We can’t fight a creature like that,” said Jon, “not without magic. If my brother was here, maybe, but I’m not sure. My blade has some effect against creatures of that nature and I’ll try if it comes to that,” he finished and then yelped in pain as he kicked a particularly thick part of the rock.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Jon,” said Vipsanius as he carefully cut out another hunk of the wall. “Just make small little indentations here so that the picks have a place to grab when Sorus and Odellius return.”

Jon nodded and began to work more carefully, “Have you decided what you’ll do if we manage to recover the staff?”

“Not yet,” said the First Rider as a little piece of the wall fell out at his feet, “but I’ll let you know when I do.”

“I appreciate that,” said Jon with a smile just as Odellius and Sorus returned. The big knight of Elekargul carried two large picks and a heavy sledge hammer while Sorus managed to juggle two shovels tucked underneath his sling and held hard against his body. They dumped their bounty on the ground; the First Rider grabbed a pick in one hand, and began to hammer at the wall with quick, steady bursts that sent stone shards flying in all directions. One of them caught Jon in the brow and he spun around with a curse.

“Sorry about that,” said Vipsanius as he continued to pound away without pause. Odellius grabbed the sledge hammer and began to match swings with the much smaller First Rider. The little man with the powerful chest managed two knocks for every one of the rotund warrior and the rocks began to spray out of the wall in great showers. It took them less than five minutes of steady work to break through to the other side and another minute to clear enough of a hole for them all to pass. By then Odellius’s breath came in great gasps and sweat covered his brow. On the other hand the First Rider breathed normally and only a few smudges of dirt on his face indicated any work at all.

“Which way,” said Vipsanius to the dark shadow and the creature immediately flowed forward and took them deeper in the caves.

“Not much further ahead is where I last saw them,” said Tenebrous. “The darklings helped me up to this point but I suspect that we cannot count on them anymore.”

The group went forward a few hundred meters and then the shadowy form stopped again. “I must go forward alone for the moment,” it said with a deep voice. “I will return when I find the children of dragons.”

With that the creature moved ahead into the darkness and immediately vanished.

“What happens when we find them?” said Sorus and looked to the other three, his young eyes darting back and forth and his good hand twitching at his side.

“We should have a plan,” said Odellius with a gasp as he put his back to the wall and slumped to the ground.

“Sorus, you can’t fight,” said the First Rider as the boy started to object but Vipsanius raised a hand to halt him. “Sorus, you find where the staff is and try to grab it as soon as you can. The rest of us will try and create a distraction and defend you. Follow Tenebrous wherever he leads.”

“Do you think we can trust him?” said Sorus, shaking his head no.

“We have no choice,” said the First Rider. “It’s that or just go home and forget all this happened.”

“I’m not totally opposed to that,” said Odellius with a smile, his face covered with dirt and sweat.

“If you want to go back, I’d understand,” said Jon as he looked at Odellius. “This is my fight, not yours. I’ll go on alone.”

Odellius smiled and laughed out loud, “What do you think the chances of that are?”

Jon smiled back at the huge warrior, “None at all.”

“What kind of a distraction did you have in mind, Vipsanius?” said Odellius and turned to the First Rider, a wipe of his brow with the filthy sleeve of his jerkin only managing to spread the dirt around.

The First Rider tossed the pick in his hand aside and drew his sword, “Lay into them like knights of Elekargul,” he said with a smile. “Once Sorus grabs the staff we’ll cover his retreat as best we can and follow if possible.”

“What do I do with it if I get out of here and … and you’re not around?” said Sorus his face pale in the dim light of the stones.

“That is your decision to make if I’m not there,” said Vipsanius as the smile left his face and he looked at the boy with a steady gaze. “If you make it to the surface alive then take the thing to our warriors, or give it over to Jon, whichever you think is best. You’re a knight of Elekargul, a Nightwalker now, Sorus, but you have no commanding officer other than me.”

“Yes, First Rider Vipsanius,” said Sorus suddenly standing up straight and giving the salute of his people. “You can count on me.”

“I know,” said Vipsanius and patted the boy on the shoulder just as the dark shadow suddenly coalesced out of the darkness.

“It is up ahead,” said Tenebrous, “not more than five hundred paces. You should put away your light stones except for one and mask that. The reptiles have gathered for a ceremony. Thantos and some darklings observe them. I am uncertain as to the length of the ritual but it cannot be long. The region ahead is of white marble and the magic is extraordinarily potent. It disrupts me to some degree and my ability to aid you will be limited.”

“I’ve never seen a white marble ruin,” said Sorus with a look to the other three, who in turn looked to one another, their faces expressionless and their eyes hardened.

“You will know it when you see it,” said the First Rider with a glance to the boy. “Just remember what we talked about and do your duty as a knight of Elekargul,” he said and handed his light stone to Sorus. “You carry this for now but wrap it in cloth to dim the light. The reptiles are not underground creatures and need a light source, so we won’t need ours once we get there.”

Sorus took the stone in his good left hand and then looked down at his right arm in a sling, thought about it for a moment before he placed the stone in his right hand, and fished around under his jerkin to find something with which to wrap the stone and dim its light. After a few seconds he pulled out a small pouch filled with a leafy green material which he dumped out. He put the light stone inside and its glow was enough to penetrate the thin material of the bag, although made sight more than a few feet ahead all but impossible. “Good enough?” he said and began to walk forward behind the lead of Tenebrous, who all but vanished in the gloom.

“Careful,” said Odellius as Jon bumped into him from behind.

“It’s too dark, I can’t even see a giant bulk like Odellius,” said the young knight of gray with a chuckle, “and Tenebrous is completely gone.”

“Be quiet,” ordered the First Rider without a look back as he stayed right behind Sorus and the light. The boy continued to do his best to follow the black shadow but in the diminished light the creature was all but invisible.

“Tenebrous,” he hissed when they reached a fork in the narrow passage, “I can’t see you. Which way did you go?”

The deep voice intoned from nowhere and everywhere, “Over here.”

“That doesn’t help,” said Sorus and looked down both passages with no clear idea from where the voice emanated.

The three men following closely behind all chuckled and even the deep black voice seemed to laugh albeit in an ominous fashion. A dark tendril of smoke came out from the passage to Sorus’s right, licked over the boy, which caused him to jump back and straight into the First Rider with a crash. “Don’t do that!” he said in a loud voice as his body shuddered. “That is creepy.”

“This way,” said Tenebrous, barely visible in the gloomy cave with the limited light source, and gave sort of a waving motion to the boy. “It’s not much further. You should be able to dim your light soon.”

Sorus looked ahead and could make out a faint glow from up ahead and beyond a curve in the passage. “We’re close,” he whispered back to the others, “try to be quiet.”

Jon looked at Odellius and Odellius looked at Jon and then they both looked to their heavy chain armor and massive feet and barely managed to avoid a laugh. “Good luck,” they whispered to each other at the same moment.

The First Rider looked back at them, shook his head but smiled, and brought his finger up to his lips, “Shhhh.”

With that all four, and the black shape of Tenebrous, moved forwards towards the light. As they rounded the corner Sorus first glimpsed the white marble temple of the Old Empire and stopped dead in his tracks.

After miles of dank cave walls the dazzling white of this area blinded him for a moment, and he shut his eyes and put his hand in front of face. Murmurs and chants of a strange language emanated from somewhere up ahead although its exact location remained elusive. The cave was not a particularly massive chamber with a ceiling only ten to fifteen feet high with a great stone circle at its center. Each stone was of perfectly cut white marble and stood six feet tall, about three feet wide, and another foot in depth. There were perhaps a hundred of them in all and they cut off Sorus’s vision of the interior of the circle, but that was undoubtedly from where the sound came.

As his eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness he spotted a group of the small darkling creatures at another entrance to the chamber, with their swords pulled out as they watched the stone circle intently. Sorus pulled back with a start. “There are darklings up there,” he whispered back to Vipsanius, “in a passageway to our right. I can’t tell how many.”

The First Rider nodded his head as his body tensed and he quietly drew his sword from its scabbard. “We’ll wait until Tenebrous tells us or the darklings make their move,” he whispered to Sorus and then looked back at Jon and Odellius to make sure they heard.

“I don’t see Tenebrous,” said Sorus in a low voice and peered back around the corner. “It’s awful bright in there with those white marble pillars. I can hear chanting or something but I can’t see anyone, there are too many stones in the way.”

“Just keep an eye on the darklings,” said Vipsanius. “They are waiting for the lizards to get the staff and then they’ll move.”

Sorus nodded his head and went back to peer around the corner. At that moment the sinuous black form of Tenebrous materialized behind Odellius at the rear, although it took them a few moments to realize the creature’s presence.

“I cannot get close enough to see what is transpiring,” said the deep voice. “The region is too well illuminated and I will be seen.”

“What about the darklings,” said Vipsanius as he looked over his shoulder quickly but then turned to watch Sorus. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “You’re doing fine. Just keep watching and don’t worry about anything else.”

“I cannot approach the darklings either,” said Tenebrous. “Thantos is with them and he would recognize my presence immediately. I cannot tell you their precise numbers.”

“So you can’t tell us much of anything then,” said the First Rider in a low whisper.

“I’m afraid that is an accurate assessment,” said the shadowy shape. “It should be apparent when the dragon children complete their ceremony and gain the Staff of Sakatha. That is when Thantos and the darklings will strike. Once that happens you must act.”

“I understand as much,” said the First Rider, his hand still on Sorus’s back. “We’re going to send Sorus forward to grab the thing while the rest of us distract or disable the others. You lead him back to the surface and my people,” he went on and suddenly turned and gazed intently at Tenebrous, “if you do not safely guide this boy I’ll want a personal explanation as to why not. Is that understood, Tenebrous?”

The black cloud coalesced for a moment into a humanoid shape something like a man with two great horns on its head and massive wings sprouting from its back. “I understand, Vipsanius, First Rider of the people of Elekargul. I pledge that I will honor my part of the agreement.”

“I think they’re moving,” said Sorus as he noted several of the little darkling creatures move into the open. They were followed by a massive furred beast of the same variety he fought earlier. One of the little creatures got his foot under the large creature’s clumsy gait and shouted out in pain.

“What was that?” said Vipsanius and leaned forward and over Sorus’s shoulder.

“Clumsy,” whispered Sorus back to the First Rider. “I think, yes, the lizards heard it as well. I think there’s going to be a fight. Should we go?”

“Wait and see what happens,” said Vipsanius. “Maybe they’ll battle themselves out and we can strike from behind.”

“What if they take the staff out some other entrance?” said Jon from the rear.

Vipsanius looked to the dark cloud of Tenebrous, “Tenebrous?”

“It is possible the dragon children know another exit from here,” he said, his form darkening. “They have full access to the dreams of the Toxic One and I do not.”

Sorus watched as a darkling horde spilled out of the side passage with two more of the great furry creatures as well as half a dozen ghoulish monstrosities, their flesh rotting and decayed. Soon the sounds of battle echoed throughout the chamber for all to hear.

Odellius moved up next to the First Rider, “I do not like to stand and wait for the stronger side to emerge.”

“I agree,” said the First Rider, “but we’ve no sign of the staff.”

“The reptile men are coming out from the center of the circle and I can’t hear chanting anymore,” said Sorus in a normal tone of voice. A sudden explosion sounded from past the corner and the boy turned to look.

“Enough waiting,” said Vipsanius. “Odellius, Jon, with me; Sorus follow. We’ll head toward the stones and try and get to the middle.”

With that Odellius, Jon, and the First Rider burst out from their hiding place and immediately shuttered their eyes as the brilliance of the white marble reflected even the dim light a thousand fold. It took them a few seconds to adjust to the brightness; fortunately, the creatures embroiled in conflict were either too busy to notice them or did see them but were unable to react.

A dozen darklings lay scattered on their ground, their bodies burnt by some fiery spell while one of the big furry creatures lay on its side, a great blackened mass of flesh that emanated smoke. Near the closest of the white marble pillars three reptile men lay on the ground either dead or near death while half a dozen more, all in priestly robes, fought on against twice their number in ghouls and darklings.

Jon Gray’s massive strides took him toward the rear of the darkling creatures, although Vispanius kept up with his own little legs churning like spokes in a wagon wheel and Odellius quickly fell behind, his rolling gate no match for the other two. With one sweep of his massive stone sword Jon sent three of the creatures straight to oblivion, and the First Rider cut into another two with precise sword strokes through their necks.

Odellius, who brought up the rear, attacked the second of the huge furry beasts and drove his blade into the thing’s lower back at an upward angle, and his forward momentum caused him to crash into the creature. The sword burst out of the thing’s chest as it sprawled forward on top of a reptile man with upraised arms and crushed him to the floor with a terrible splat.

The arrival of the third force changed the dynamics of the situation immediately as the darklings turned to face their new foes, while the last of the furry creatures grabbed a reptile man and tore off his arm with a seemingly nonchalant motion. One of the priest’s eyes opened wide and a smile began to form on his lips as he assumed the First Rider and his friends were allies. Jon disavowed him of this notion with a flick of his wrist; his massive stone sword came down on the head of the creature, crushed it and sprayed a wide splatter of skull and brain matter in all directions.

Jon, Vipsanius, and Odellius blew straight through the combatants and into the maze of giant white stones while Sorus moved behind them. The reptile men and darklings stood in stunned silence for a moment, their weapons and spell-casting paraphernalia held high. The third, and final, great furry beast recovered first and took a swipe at a priest of Sakatha, severing his head cleanly, after which the battle resumed in full force.

The First Rider strode through the white stones, running headlong into a spectacularly bedecked priest and shoving him against a pillar with a thrust of his short but powerful arms. The reptile man cracked his skull against the stone, slumped to the ground, and left a trail of blood on the otherwise bright white surface. Within seconds all four of them stood near the center of the stone circle where a huge green stone made of jade, or some like substance, glowed with an internal light, and three reptile men stood around it, their arms raised and their chants at some sort of a crescendo.

Vipsanius raised his hand and the others stopped immediately as they took in the sight. One of the reptiles spotted the group from the corner of its eye, and the chant faltered for a moment, but a glance from the leader of the group returned them to their duties. The leader then raised a hand towards the First Rider, Jon, Odellius, and Sorus and a greenish gas engulfed them. All four scattered away from the miasma and coughs racked their lungs, although the First Rider went towards the priest at the center of the circle with his sword upraised.

At that moment the chants hit a crescendo and a tremendous flash of intensely bright green light, focused on the stone in the center of the room, exploded into the chamber.

Chapter 28

Jon Gray stood stunned for a moment, shook his head as bright little spots impaired his vision, blinked again and again as he tried to clear his sight. First he began to see large blobs of white but they slowly resolved themselves into marble pillars and then he spotted both his friends and the reptile men priests. Everything seemed unusually bright and a glance up revealed blue sky through a skylight in a domed ceiling that he didn’t remember from a moment before.

The reptile men looked up, down, at one another, and then merely stood there without a sound.

“What … what happened?” said Sorus as he blinked his eyes and tried to clear his vision. “Where is that light coming from? Are we outside?”

“The stones look the same,” said Vipsanius as also shook his head and blinked rapidly. “We’re in the same place, they’re,” with a point to the reptile men, “the same, I don’t hear any combat, but that,” with a look up, “is very different.”

A cool, calm voice said something that no one understood and a moment later a tall man who wore white robes with the emblem of a lithe cat on them appeared around some of the rocks. Right behind him came a group of children. He stopped, pointed to one of the rocks and began to lecture the little ones  in the strange language without a glance at the group.

Odellius went right up to him, looked at him, waved his hand in front of the man’s eyes, but neither he, nor the children, seemed to notice as he continued to lecture and the children looked rather bored. A number of different races appeared to be in the mix with at least one full blooded elf child, an orc, and even a little minotaur boy.

“What happened?” said Sorus again.

“Look,” said Jon, and pointed to the side of the chamber where a long set of stairs led towards the cavern roof and out into the open where sunlight filtered in. The reptiles seemed to notice it as well and they, with a glance towards the group and a bit of jabbering among themselves, began to walk towards the stairs.

“Is Tenebrous here?” said Odellius and looked around for the shadowy form but there was no sign of the creature.

“Let’s follow the reptile men,” said the First Rider as he started to walk after the creatures, “we still don’t have the Staff of Sakatha and they know where it is … presumably.”

The four followed, took the perfectly cut stairwell up to the surface and soon found themselves in a small city with dozens of tidy stone buildings and hundreds of people of all sizes and shapes who wandered around apparently oblivious to the two strange groups.

“What is this?” said Jon and noted that the reptile men likewise stared in stunned silence at the region.

“It’s the ruin, Jon,” said Sorus as he suddenly guessed the truth. “The ruin we were supposed to find, that the First Rider sent the other group to visit, but from thousands of years ago when the Old Empire still existed!”

“That’s not possible,” said Jon.

Odellius nodded his head in agreement, “I’m with Jon on this one, this is not possible,” he echoed the thoughts. “How can we be here?”

“I’m not sure we are here,” said the First Rider with a look around at all the people who seemed to take no note of them at all. “What was it Tenebrous said about Chusarausea and his dreams?”

“We’re in a dream?” said Sorus as he looked around from the mountainside at the valley below and then pinched his arm, closed his eyes, and shook his head.

“Did that work,” said Jon with a smile.

“No,” said Sorus as he opened his eyes, “and I didn’t think it would.”

“How can we be in a dream?” said Odellius as everyone in the crowd suddenly looked up and pointed towards the sky, and a low murmur began to grow.

“Magic, I’m guessing,” said Vipsanius with a wry grin. “These white marble sites contain much of the magical residue of the Old Empire. I’ve heard they are focal points for the magical energy that exists in the world. All the ruins are central points but the white marble is special beyond that.”

“That’s right,” said Jon. “Val talks about that all the time, that magic is more powerful when performed in the ancient stone circles, and even more in the white marble ruins. That’s their whole purpose, or at least that’s Val’s theory on the things. He’ll be so happy I actually listened to him for once!”

“Fellows,” said Sorus, his gaze on the sky.

“I think the First Rider’s on to something,” said Odellius. “If this is all a dream then we’re back in the cave with the fight still going on.”

“Guys,” said Sorus again, this time pointing to the sky along with almost everyone else in the small town.

“What is it?” said Odellius and he followed the gaze of the boy and then said, “I see.”

Jon and the First Rider looked up as well and spotted a long train of greenish smoke in the sky headed directly towards them, “What’s that,” said the young gray knight.

“I don’t know,” said Sorus, “but everyone is heading onto that cleared platform up on the hill over there,” pointing towards where the vast majority of people in town gathered.

The reptile men saw the movement of the crowd and immediately started off in that direction. “I’ve never been one to follow the crowd,” said Vipsanius with a shrug, “but in this case it might be the best strategy.”

“Agreed,” said Jon and the four set out after the reptile men towards the top of the hill. By the time they arrived the green trail of smoke was close enough to see clearly, and it appeared to be a massive green dragon with noxious fumes emanating from every pore in its body. Each time it beat its giant wings the smoke dispersed in little puffs, leaving behind green clouds. At least one person rode the beast and the crowd around them buzzed with excitement.

The top of the hill was cleared, and armed soldiers, wearing blue plate armor with the crests of black cats on their shields waited in a semicircle around a flat piece of stone that was a good hundred feet long and half again as wide. Around it a line of bright red stones seemed to mark a point the crowd did not cross. Right at the top of the hill stood a man in brilliant gold armor with a gold helm capped with the immense feathers of some strange tropical bird. As the dragon approached, the sound of the crowd suddenly died out, and the creature moved in with surprising agility to land without a sound on the platform.

The gas that came directly from the pores of the dragon coalesced in a thick noxious cloud, apparently heavier than air, and began to filter down little vents in the red stones and thus did not accumulate. The spectators all stayed well behind this demarcation zone and the thick gas looked intensely toxic.

Out of the green gas a regal man, with a brown hair, a simple crown of ivy, and heavy leather riding gear, emerged as an attractive woman with long blonde hair and a simple white dress emblazoned with the symbol of three towers connected by walkways on each sleeve, held his arm. In the man’s other hand he held a long staff carved to look like a crocodile with each scale made from crystal, the teeth of white ivory, and eyes of red rubies.

“That’s the symbol of Doria!” whispered Sorus as he looked at the towers on the woman’s dress.

“That’s Sakatha!” said Jon as he looked regal man whose white, reptilian eyes were now apparent.

“That’s the Staff of Sakatha!” said Odellius his eyes fixed on the staff.

All of the reptile priests suddenly leapt forward, and dropped to a knee, while the most spectacularly dressed of the group tried to address the great king Sakatha, but the creature and his escort simply walked passed.

The man in the golden armor walked over to the two, took the young woman’s free arm under his own, and whispered something to her that made her laugh. The reptile king glanced in that direction and sneered ever so slightly but said nothing. The three began to walk down the narrow path along the hillside to the cheers of the crowd.

The reptile priests looked at one another and babbled in they’re sibilant tongue for a moment, but then set out after their lord as they gesticulated wildly and tried to get his attention.

“We should go after them,” said Odellius. “That’s the staff and they’ll get it first if we don’t keep up.”

“No,” said the First Rider and examined the dragon, whose head now rested on its paws, and the breath from its nostrils cleared the otherwise impenetrable haze of green gas that surrounded it. “We are somehow in the dream of Chusarausea the Great, the Great Green Dragon, the Toxic One. He is the secret to what will happen.”

“What’s already happened,” said Jon. “If this is all a dream of a thousand years ago.”

“Far more than a thousand,” said a new voice, deep, sensuous, and strangely feminine.

All eyes turned to the dragon who gazed back at them with green eyes like impossibly large emeralds.

“Chusarausea?” said the First Rider and stepped as far forward as he dared towards the green fumes that still surrounding the beast.

The green dragon nodded its head languidly and closed its eyes for a long moment, “I am,” it said and opened its eyes once again. “And you are apparitions of a sort. I am now lying in a cave, shackled by little creatures, although my mind is now free from their magical influence. All this happened long ago … from my perspective.”

“This really happened in the past?” said the First Rider as he looked carefully at the languid green eyes of the creature. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t understand,” said Jon squinting and frowing, “but don’t let that stop you.”

The green dragon looked at them, placed its head on its long paws, and exhaled deeply which cleared the thick green smoke away from it for the moment. “Come closer,” it said with that somehow feminine voice that sounded both sultry and horrible at the same time. “I have something of great importance to tell you before you return from whence you came.”

The four men walked forward into the narrow lane of clear air provided by the steady stream of breath from the creature. They arrived in front of it, the four of them together not much bigger than the massive creature’s head. “What do you have to say to us?” said Vipsanius, who moved to the front while Sorus and the other two stood a pace behind and eyed the gas that circulated all around them.

“The Staff of Sakatha,” said the dragon as its mouth opened slightly to reveal row up on row of sharp teeth.

“What about it?” said Vipsanius as he moved to within a few inches of the huge maw that could easily swallow him whole.

“My master, Sakatha, needs it to rise again from the dead and renew his plans of empire,” said the dragon and breathed deeply as a strange smile appeared on his face.

“I would think you would want that.” said Vipsanius.

“Before I go on, I must ask you apparitions a question. If I help you obtain the staff, what do you plan to do with it?”

Jon stepped forward, “I will not lie to you great Chusarausea. I want the staff to keep it away from the reptile men to prevent the resurrection of your master.

“And you others,” said the dragon as its eyes turned to gaze upon them with such intensity that they all looked away for a moment.

The First Rider, his eyes turned down, managed to answer first, “I will turn it over to Jon Gray, so he can take it back to his father, and hold it in Tanelorn so that no one might use it.”

Jon looked at the First Rider with wide gray eyes and said, “Really?”

Vipsanius turned and looked at Jon with an even gaze, “Yes, I don’t completely agree with your father and someday, someone will take the thing from him and use it, but I agree with his plan in principal.”

“Besides,” said Odellius from behind, “what could we do with the stupid thing anyway?”

Sorus thought about a humorous reply but a look at the massive dragon stopped the words before they emerged from his mouth.

“Is this exactly the time for humor?” said the First Rider as he looked at Odellius with a shake of his head.

“I tend to joke when the situation gets tense,” said Odellius with a shrug and a look at the dragon. “I’d call this pretty tense.”

“So,” said the dragon interrupting with its powerful voice. “You would keep the staff away from the children of the dragons and thus prevent Sakatha from rising again.”

The four looked at each other for a long moment, and then up at the terrible green eyes that seemed to bore completely through their bodies and into their innermost thoughts. The concept of lying to this ancient creature seemed completely hopeless and they all came to the same conclusion almost instantly.

“Yes,” said Jon Gray. “My father does not want the ancient relics of the Old Empire influencing the people of today … of my time.”

The dragon smiled again, “Go on,” it said and blew gently once again to clear the toxic smoke away from them. “Tell me more of your father.”

Jon looked at the First Rider who nodded his head, “You might as well.”

“My father thinks that creatures like you are posing as gods in my time, and that they, and their symbols of power, have unduly influenced the world. He wants to forego them, to let people decide for themselves what is best for their own lives,” said Jon and stood up to his almost full seven feet in height and glared for a brief moment directly into the powerful eyes of the great dragon. “Creatures like you, whose time is done, should not be allowed to rise again, not now, not ever. He means to destroy them, destroy you.”

The dragon blinked once, its huge eyelids came down with an almost audible thud and it moved one massive paw enough to expose an equally huge claw that was as long as Jon was tall.

“So,” it said, quietly and almost with a pleasant tone, “Your father means to kill me and any of my associates left alive.”

Jon nodded his head, “Yes, that’s right, and if you aren’t going to tell us how to get the Staff of Sakatha then we’ll figure it out on our own.”

“I will help you,” said the creature, “and I will even explain my reasoning so that, should you survive, you might tell your father.”

“You’ll help us,” exclaimed Sorus, “but why?”

“In the beginning the elementals created the world, shaped it, fashioned it, for a period of time beyond your comprehension. After that they created plants and the great tree shepherds to tend to them. Then, finally, they fashioned the living animals, both thinking and bestial, to live upon the world although I do not know why they did this.”

“Go on,” said the First Rider his hand on his chin.

“The elementals and the shepherds intermingled with the living animals and the children born of these unions became the great powers of the Old Empire. We overthrew their rule. Yes, I myself am child of the elementals. I now believe the elementals let themselves be defeated as part of some greater scheme, and, just as the elementals passed, so too must we, their children, in order to let the world go on without us. My kind ruled for many tens of thousands of years, perhaps hundreds of thousands before the Emperor rose and ended all of that. Now, I simply wish to die, and if Sakatha regains his staff he will use it to coerce me into doing his bidding once again. I shall fly the skies and terrorize his enemies, slay those that oppose his rule. I see now why the elementals chose to let themselves slip into oblivion. Our time is over and that is something Sakatha the Great will never grasp. Your father,” Chusarausea nodded to Jon, “has the proper idea, but those that oppose him are mighty and do not conceive that they can be defeated. I suspect they are correct and once again shall rule the world, that the Emperor shall be reborn and that even the elementals will rise from their long hidden places. There will be terrible war, the loss of countless lives, perhaps even the destruction of the world. I refuse to be a part of such a scenario and therefore I give you the secret to the Staff of Sakatha!” it said as its voice rose to a crescendo.

The four men looked at one another but said nothing, their eyes wide as they gazed at the terrible creature, and it rose up on its forepaws. “The staff is embedded in the central stone of the white marble Temple below. To unlock it from its hidden location you must strike it forcefully with one of my talons.”

“But, we are apparitions, we are not really here,” said Sorus his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “How can we take one of your talons?”

“You cannot,” said Chusarausea. “But, upon the same stone in which the Staff of Sakatha is embedded rests one of my talons left for expressly this purpose.”

“We were right there,” said Jon. “There wasn’t anything.”

“It is there,” said the great green dragon with a hard look in its eyes. “You must look closely, but it is there.” With this final pronouncement the conversation seemed over.

“Thank you Great Green One, your words and your vision are both noble and true. My father will hear what you said, that I promise,” said the young gray knight and bowed deeply to the dragon. The creature looked at him through tremendous green eyes and a small smile curled on its face as it nodded its head. Then the creature closed its eyes and put its head down upon its paws.

Chapter 29

“How do we get back?” said Sorus with a look towards Jon and the others and then he glanced around and realized that they stood in the center of the stone circle with the lizard priests, back underground, as if the strange interlude never happened at all. “Oh,” he finished.

It took the lizards a moment to orientate themselves to the new situation and by then the well-trained warriors, Odellius, Jon, and Vipsanius, had swords raised and ready, “Tie their hands behind their backs,” ordered the First Rider to Odellius, “and hurry up about it. I can’t imagine it will take long to reinforce those darklings and ghouls.”

Odellius quickly found a length of rope in his pack, tied neat knots behind the creatures, while Jon went over to the massive crystal block in the center of the stone circle and stared intently at it. His gaze traveled up and down its sides as he looked for the curved shape of the talon and for a long moment he could not see it. Then the shape suddenly seemed to appear on one side of the block and he stared again for long moments.

“Hurry, Jon,” said Sorus but the gray knight did not reply, his eyes fixed on the block.

“Here goes,” he said and reached forwards, grabbed at the block, and clasped his hand. When he pulled it back it held a thick green talon which he raised over his head and plunged down into the stone with all his strength. The talon slipped through the stone block like a rapier through unarmored flesh, the jade rock shattered into a thousand glass shards and left behind a long staff that looked like a mummified crocodile.

The reptile men immediately dropped to their knees and began to murmur in prayer while only the leader of the creatures kept a wary eye on Jon who bent down to pick up the staff.

“I’m sorry to take this from you,” Jon said holding the staff in his right hand and the claw of the great green dragon in his left. “This is the claw of Chusarausea the Great and I imagine you might find it useful. While I cannot let you have the Staff of Sakatha, I offer you this in exchange. Perhaps not a fair trade but it is better than nothing.”

Usharra did not understand the words of the human warrior but the intent was clear enough. He knew the Staff of Sakatha was momentarily lost to his people, but the fact that it was once again found meant the death cult would try to obtain it, use it to not to bring Sakatha back to life but to control the lich thing hidden in the vaults below Darag’dal. He nodded his head and said, “Take what you must warrior, I accept your gift in return, but I do not speak for all my people and others will learn of this and chase you to the ends of the world.”

Jon didn’t understand the language of the creature nor did the others, although the two remaining reptile priests looked at their leader with open mouths and swaying tails. Jon lay the talon at the feet of the leader and then looked to his friends, “Perhaps now is the best time to beat a hasty retreat before the darkling forces return in great numbers.”

The First Rider smiled and Sorus nodded his head, “Let’s get out of here!”

With that all four men backed out of the center of the great stone circle and towards the exit as they kept a careful eye on the reptile men, “The knots will hold for a bit,” said Odellius with a huge grin. “Let’s go!” The four began to trot towards the exit at a quick pace. When they cleared the stones a couple of darklings stood at the doorway across from them while a pair of reptile men, apparently survivors of the earlier battle, stood with their backs to the outer stone ring.

Jon, Sorus, Vipsanius, and Odellius ignored them as they dashed across the open floor to the dark corridor beyond, “Tenebrous!” shouted the First Rider and fumbled in his packet for a light stone. “Lead us out of here or I’ll know the reason why.”

“There is no need for threats,” said the dark shadow, its voice low and rumbly as before. “Follow me, but once we reach the surface I cannot guarantee your safety down the mountain. The darklings are on the move and Thantos seems to have survived.”

“Then stop talking and start leading,” said Odellius looking over his shoulder back at the main chamber where the white marble stones stood. It took him a moment to realize why the site bothered him when it suddenly dawned on him, the stones, thousands of years after their construction, looked exactly the same as in the dream, as if no time had passed at all. Then they were off into the darkness as they followed the strange shadowy creature.

They jogged along the narrow corridors with the First Rider in the rear and Sorus right behind Tenebrous who floated along, apparently able to effortlessly keep at a pace they found comfortable.  Sorus noted the First Rider’s voice as he ticked off turns, “left, right, right,” as they made their way down the passages, and he turned to look at him as Odellius’s heavy breath filled the hallway. “Why are you keeping track of our turns on the way out?”

“It might be nice to find that temple again sometime in the future,” said the Vipsanius with a smile. “I’m also trying to tally with all the turns we took getting here in case Tenebrous is leading us astray.”

“Oh,” said Sorus suddenly ashamed that he didn’t keep mental track of their turns during the descent. “Are we going the right way?”

“As best as I can tell,” said the First Rider. “It’s not easy to keep track of things when underground but, so far, he seems to be leading us towards the exit. We are headed upwards at the very least.”

Sorus nodded his head as they continued and Odellius’s breath became more and more labored with every step. “Are you all right, Odellius?” said Sorus as he moved up behind the big knight. “You sound like you need a rest.”

“I’ll … huh huh, be ok,” said the man his face so red it seemed to glow even in the dim light provided by the stones. “Maybe I should eat and drink a little less. Don’t let Vipsanius know I said that though,” he told Sorus with a wink.

“I already heard,” said the First Rider. “Tenebrous, can we stop for a few minutes to catch our breaths or is it still too dangerous?”

The dark shadow paused for a moment and its shape twisted slightly although not into any identifiable form. “Yes, I will scout ahead to see if Thantos has prepared an ambush. The darklings seem less interested in pursuit than I imagined.”

The four men stopped and Odellius appeared seriously winded as he slumped to the ground. Sorus smiled broadly and slapped Jon on the back with his good hand, “You’ve got your staff, my friend. You came all this way, all those months, and now you’ve got it!”

“Now, the question becomes can I get it back home,” said Jon to Sorus his face quite serious for once. “I never really thought about that part. With reptile men, the dragon children, the Lady of the Abyss, and who knows who else chasing me down from every corner of the world, the journey might prove … troublesome.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before,” said Sorus. “You must be getting old like the First Rider and Odellius.”

Jon nodded his head at Odellius and Vipsanius and laughed aloud, “You might be right Sorus,” he said smiling broadly and infectiously. “I am usually a rather happy-go-lucky fellow. My father would approve of this new Jon Gray, although my sister probably won’t believe it.”

“That is an important question, Jon,” said the First Rider. “The journey back to Tanelorn is both long and perilous. Do you have a plan?”

Jon nodded, “I planned to go back the way I came. I’ll ride to Doria and then catch a ship up to Sea’cra. From there the journey across land to Tanelorn is thousands of miles. I used a portal on my way here so I’m unfamiliar with all the lands in between.”

“That’s a dangerous journey, Jon,” said Vipsanius “with or without the staff.”

Jon nodded, “I know, but what else is there to do?”

“I’m going with him,” said Sorus as he interrupted the conversation and moved over to stand next to Jon. “Sir Germanius ordered me to go with him no matter what.”

Jon looked up startled, “You’ve just become a knight of Elekargul,” said the young warrior of gray, “don’t you want to enjoy that for a while before heading off on a trip that will take years? You may never come back to Elekargul.”

Sorus shook his head, “It’s not really a matter of what I want or not. Sir Germanius gave me an order and I intend to follow it. Besides, Jon, sticking with you might be a lot of fun.”

“A lot of danger is what you mean,” said Odellius as breath slowly returned to normal.

“That too,” said Sorus with a smile, “every young knight wants a little adventure so he can tell stories to the pretty girls.”

Just then the dark voice of Tenebrous broke into their conversation, “The way is not clear. There are darklings at all egresses. I suggest we move directly towards where my enemy Thantos waits because there are fewer darklings there, the creatures do not trust one another, but my motivation might simply be to have you kill him. You should make your own decision.”

“You’ve been straight with us so far,” said Vipsanius to the dark shadow. “We’ll follow you against this Thantos fellow. Is there anything about him and his allies we need to know?”

“They carry toxins in their claws and on their teeth that slow your reflexes and can even paralyze you,” said Tenebrous. “They don’t wear armor so your swords should make short work of them but don’t let them scratch or bite you.”

The First Rider nodded his head, “I’ve fought ghoulish creatures before,” he said, “but this is a particularly powerful variety of the species. It doesn’t have any special powers that might tip the tide of battle?”

The dark cloud seemed to waver back and forth for a moment, “I assume Thantos is so equipped, but I do not know the exact nature of his abilities. He is the ghoul with the overly long tongue and if you kill him quickly the others will likely flee.”

“Good enough,” said the First Rider with a nod of his head, “lead the way.”

Tenebrous again seemed to flow and change shape as he headed further down the corridor and the four knights followed along at a fast pace.

“I haven’t done this much running since I was a wee boy,” said Odellius and slapped Jon Gray on the back with a hearty thump.

“You were wee?” said Jon in reply.

“Well, relatively speaking,” said Odellius with a smile barely visible in the gloom of the cave.

“Stop now,” said Tenebrous in his deep gravelly voice, “they are just ahead. Douse your lights and you should be able to see well enough once your eyes adjust.”

They deactivated their light stones as advised and waited a few moments before a dim glow from up ahead became apparent.

“It that sunlight,” said Sorus, “or just more glow stones?”

“Glow stones,” said the First Rider, “it’s not the right hue for sunlight. I think I can feel a breath of air though, we’re close to the surface. The plan is to rush the one with the long tongue and kill him first before he can organize resistance. Jon, you’re faster than the rest of us, so you’ll be the first one there, but try not to get too far ahead.”

Jon nodded.

The First Rider held up in hand, “Three, two, one, go!”

Jon’s long legs took a moment to get moving but his huge stride quickly carried him past Sorus and the First Rider and he burst ahead towards the half dozen shadowy figures that lurked in a small cave. Jon was first among them, spotted the long-tongued creature instantly, and moved directly at it as it raised its arms and began to chant. Jon raised his own sword and shouted out, “For the Gray!” as he brought it down towards the head of the leader even as a spray of silver energy enveloped him.

Jon’s sword suddenly seemed to slow, his face became a grimace of effort, Thantos licked his long tongue over his lips and began to smile broadly, when Jon let out a fearsome grunt, broke through the silvery cloud, and brought down his sword in a deadly arc. The smile vanished from Thantos’s face as it tried to move to the side and avoid the sword, but the blade bit into his shoulder and right through to the chest cavity as blood and gore spewed out in a spray.

Thantos reached forwards with long hooked claws, grabbed Jon around neck, but before it could grip deeply the young knight of gray jabbed his head forward and smashed the face of creature with his forehead and iron helmet. Thantos’s skull cracked, his eyes rolled backwards, and he felt to the ground as his life’s essence poured out from the terrible gash. Jon spun, but suddenly felt weak in his knees as the toxic contents of the claw pumped from his neck directly into his heart, and his legs felt like blades of grass in a stiff breeze. Two of the other ghouls moved towards him with their talons extended; he tried to raise his sword but felt like he swam under water, and their razor sharp claws seemed ready to tear off his face when a silver blade suddenly appeared between the eyes of one of the creatures. It fell dead to the ground and the second dashed away in a sudden burst of speed.

Odellius and the First Rider appeared a moment later as the two men swept aside the ghouls, their swords flashed and the big knight of Elekargul used his belly to bounce foes away. Jon felt his legs suddenly give out and he fell to the floor. He could feel his heart beat in his chest like some slow drum. It seemed only a moment later the face of the First Rider appeared over him and asked him in an incredibly slow and deep voice, “Areee youuuu alllll riiiiight?”

Jon tried to reply but found his mouth unable to form words and his arms unable to lift his sword.

“He’s brave enough,” said the First Rider to Odellius with a shrug, “but doesn’t always show the best sense in a battle.”

“He’s young, Vipsanius,” said Odellius and reached down to grab the fallen knight by the arm and hoist him up over a shoulder. “He’s tall but not all that heavy for his size,” said the warrior, “don’t forget to grab his sword or he’ll have our heads when he shakes off the effect of the ghoul poison.”

Sorus bent down and tried to lift the huge stone sword with his good left hand but only managed to push it a short distance, “It’s heavy.”

“Come along, Sorus,” said Vipsanius and turned his back on the young man, “act like a knight and bring the sword already. We’ve got to get off this mountain as quickly as possible. Tenebrous?”

“Yes,” said the dark voice.

“We’ve killed this Thantos friend of yours, and you’ve led us truly out of the mountain. I appreciate your help and will remember it, but I think our association has reached its conclusion,” said the leader of Elekargul and held out his fist to the creature.

“Yes,” said the dark shape as it shifted continuously. “I hear my mistress’s call to me even now. She knows the fate of her disciples instantly. I wish you well, Jon Gray and I suspect that we will meet again,” he said to the fallen lad. “As for you, First Rider Vipsanius, I don’t think our paths will cross again but perhaps I am mistaken. I wish you and your nation prosperity.”

The First Rider nodded, “Come along, Sorus,” he said, “grab that sword already and let’s be out of here. Hopefully the horses are waiting for us and we’ll be back in Black Dale to return Odellius to his duties as a mason as soon as the day after tomorrow.”

Chapter 30

It took the returning warriors three days to reach Black Dale because Jon’s sluggishness proved slow to improve and he was unable to guide his horse properly. Sorus spent much of the time riding next to Jon, with one hand on his own horse and the other on the reins of Jon’s trotter. After a couple of painful tumbles they tied a reluctant Jon to the saddle and did not hesitate to make merry over the fact. Jon proved unable to reply with his normal wit, as the aftereffect of the ghoul poison seemed to affect his mind as well as body. Eventually, they arrived in the town safely with both the Staff of Sakatha and all of their lives intact. News of their return preceeded the three, and the entire town’s population and most of those from the surrounding countryside, including Proteus and his two sons, were on hand to greet them with a rousing welcome.

In the next couple of days Jon recuperated at Sorus’s house, tended to by Titia, while the young brewer turned knight trained Proteus at the Swift Strider in the proper arts of brewing. After Jon regained most of his usual vigor he began to prepare to return to his far off home of Tanelorn. The First Rider suggested as much primarily because of the danger presented by the Staff of Sakatha. Before he took his leave from Black Dale he visited Odellius and the two took a trip to the nearby quarries to haul back a stone large enough to honor the deeds of Sir Germanius. Jon made his farewells with Titia, both tender and urgent, while Sorus spent his last few days with Shia but soon enough the evening of the day before their departure was upon them.

The townsfolk planned a large party for the heroes and even the First Rider returned from patrols to Black Dale to attend the event. As the celebration went late in the evening, Jon sat in a large chair near the head of the table, a tall glass of fine beer in his hand, as well wishers came by to give him their regards. The First Rider was one of the last to come up, “Jon, I’m leaving on patrol first thing in the morning so I won’t be able to say goodbye to you and Sorus,” he said and patted the boy on the shoulder.

“I understand,” said Jon sipping his beer slowly in the hopes of retaining a clear head for the morning. “Thank you, Vispsanius,” he said with a broad smile. “I appreciate all your help and I’ll take your message back to my father. I’m sure that he will be pleased with the alliance of our nations.”

“I hope so,” said Vipsanius with a smile on his craggy face, “I hope you don’t mind, but your old gray cloak took rather a beating during our time underground and I had some of the girls make a new one for you,” he continued, making a motion with his head. At this signal, Odellius, also seated at the table and had shown less restraint with the beer than Jon, pulled out a cloth-wrapped package from under the table and at the same moment a hush came over the room.

Jon opened the package carefully, with a rather goofy half-grin on his face, pulled out a supple cloth jerkin, and spread it open on the table. His eye came quickly to the shoulder where a symbol of four outward-facing horseshoes surrounded a sprig of mistletoe. Many of those in attendance gasped and the gathered people began to talk excitedly back and forth among themselves. Jon looked at the symbol for a long moment before understanding came to him, “Does this mean?”

“Yes, Sir Jon Gray,” said the First Rider with a smile. “You are now a knight of Elekargul with the name of Gray. In the future when a stranger comes to Elekargul and proves themselves as true friends of the nation they may, if they wish, take the knightly name of Gray to commemorate you and your visit.”

Jon sat in his chair for a while, gulped a few times, and proved unable to make any words come out of his mouth.

“I think the lad is crying,” said Odellius suddenly and smacked him on the back so hard that Jon almost fell out of his chair, although the blow seemed to force out the words Jon couldn’t manage a moment before. “Thank you First Rider,” he said, “this is truly an honor I did not expect. I hope … I hope that I can live up to this … wonderful honor. Maybe someday, if circumstance allow me the pleasure, I might return to Elekargul, to see you all again.”

“We’ll be waiting,” said Vipsanius with a nod of his head. “You take good care of him, Sorus; I suspect Jon’s adventures are just beginning and it gives me great hope that a knight of Elekargul rides with him.”

“I will, First Rider Vispsanius,” said Sorus with steady eyes as he moved over to stand behind Jon’s chair, “I will.”

At another table young Rhia Quick firmed her own little jaw, which showed no signs of the Purple Face disease, and muttered, “I’ll follow Jon to Tanelorn, I’ll be a gray knight just like him.”

“What was that?” said Shia glancing over at her little sister.

“Nothing,” said the younger girl and put her hands demurely in her lap, “nothing at all.”

Epilog

Far away in Darag’dal the ancient cathedral stood as before, and the decayed skeletal figure that sat upon the throne in the center of the floor still made no movements. Standing next to the ancient lord of all the dragon children stood Usharra; he held the claw of the Great Toxic Dragon in one hand and spoke with a tall dragon child in hushed tones. A pair of large red bat wings furled on the creature’s back and a dozen spikey protrusions emanated from its face. The creature nodded his head, with closed eyes, as the priest spoke at great length but refrained from making any comment for a long time. As Usharra’s story slowly wound down the dragon child opened its eyes with a languid motion and stared fixedly at the priest. Then it looked at the figure on the throne and nodded its head as its wings slowly unfurled, “What tribes of our people are located in the north, near Tanelorn?”