A Quick Sun Rises (17 page)

Holding a finger to his lips for quiet, he led the group through the trees toward his former home. A shower of emotion rained down on him with every step they took closer to the home that never really was his. The painful memories of hate and mistrust washed over him like an avalanche that chilled him from the inside out. His mother was the only one he really had any desire to see again. She had always shown him the love that he so craved from others, like his father, who offered nothing but abhorrence. He wanted his mother to know that he was well. He knew he could not stay, and probably would never be able to return again, but at least he wanted her to know that he lived and that he loved and cherished her. He felt a small tear run down his cheek and was grateful for the waning sun and his leading position so that no one would see it. He wasn’t ashamed of his emotion he just did not want to share it with anyone else at that moment.

He could almost sense the energy and excitement Dor and Tam felt at returning home. For them, the Ardath had fond memories of loving families and a safe haven. Both had experience such horrible things since leaving that he felt that this time he might be successful in convincing them to stay. It had been easy to deny him while they were in the wilds of the HuMan world, but now that they were back in the forest, taking in its scents, hearing its sounds and feeling the trees around them, he was fairly certain he and Jne might be the only ones leaving.

Holding up his hand for them to stop, he scanned the forest ahead. There was a small thicket on the right, a perfect place for a trap. Though he had no reason to believe that anyone knew of their presence, they were close enough to the village now to meet up with those picked to stand guard. Closing his eyes, he sent his senses outward becoming one with the forest and everything it held. He could hear his companion’s hearts beating, feel the heavy emotions exchanged between Dor and Tam and was somewhat surprised by the little emotion he felt because of it. Their love had been difficult to deal with in the beginning as he tried to stifle his own emotional bond to Tam but now he felt truly happy for the only friends he’d ever known as a child.

Pausing with Jne, he inhaled the almost intoxicating scent of her hair. He wanted to linger close to her, to delve deeper into the feelings he knew would be easy for him to decipher but he felt it would be too invasive and wrong to do so; a violation of the one for whom his feelings had continually grown stronger. Turning from his companions he inspected the thicket but then quickly turned away from it, concentrating instead on the sudden rhythm of two extra heartbeats. They approached from the east and would soon be upon them. He knew if he stretched himself farther he would be able to gather more information about who drew near but to do so risked their being discovered. They had to act.

Motioning to the others, he led them to the very thicket that, moments before, posed a threat. Now it was they who would be in position for a trap. Watching from their concealed location they waited until Dor wondered if Thane had misinterpreted his misgivings. He was about to voice such an opinion when his eyes suddenly caught movement. Three figures appeared out of the trees in the faded light of dusk. Dor’s eyes narrowed, recognizing immediately the arrogant swagger of the one in the lead. Glancing at Thane he could tell that his friend also recognized the person who had been responsible for his near death on the mountainside. It was PocMar.

A wicked grin suddenly spread across Thane’s face and Dor half expected him to rush from their hiding place with both swords drawn and finish off the coward where he stood. He would be justified in doing so and even were he brought before the Kinpa and examined, they could not have condemned him. PocMar’s actions had been cowardly and he deserved nothing less than death at the hand of the person he’d offended.

Thane looked at him and then motioned his head back. Dor followed his gaze and rested his eyes on a ripening patch of Shue berries. A boyish grin suddenly formed on his lips while an impish sparkle flashed in his dark eyes. Without a word, both gathered up a handful of the deep red berries while PocMar and his two companions drew closer. Their mannerisms, along with their noisy passage, revealed that they were not on alert or suspicious of anything out of the ordinary. With all of the trolls gone from the mountains, it was evident that the lack of raids had made the guards slack in their vigilance.

Jne’s expression made it obvious she could not decipher what the two meant to do while Tam’s face was that of a mother about to discipline her two unruly boys. “And what exactly do you two plan to do with those?” she asked in a demanding whisper.

Thane glared at her, bringing his finger up and motioning for her to stay quiet. PocMar and his companions were still approaching unaware of their plight. Tam’s fists were firmly planted at her waste in defiance while Jne’s face revealed her complete perplexity at the situation. Thane showed Dor his fingers as they counted down from five. Dor stifled a laugh as he nodded, preparing for the assault. Thane’s fingers showed three, two, one. Both stood unleashing a barrage of berries raining dark red terror upon their victims. PocMar was their main target and he took the brunt of the hits before realizing what was happening.

“We’re under attack,” he suddenly yelled and raced through the trees scurrying back toward the village leaving his companions behind who readied their bows but who had not moved from where they stood. One of them, who’d taken a stray berry to the chest, wiped the area with his finger bringing the mashed berry flesh to his lips. He smiled slightly but then aimed his arrow at the thicket. “Who’s there? Come out!”

Jne reached for her sword, but Tam placed a hand on her arm and shook her head. Thane and Dor were both in tears trying to hold back the laughter that wanted to roll off their lips like thunder. A few snickers escaped, instantly revealing their position. It was then that Tam took matters into her own hands.

“You and Thane stay here,” she whispered to Jne who merely nodded. “Don’t shoot!” she called out to the guards and then unceremoniously grabbed Dor by the ear and pulled him along behind her as she withdrew from their hiding place. “We are Chufa.”

Dor smarted from her hold on his earlobe but at the same time could not hold back the laughter now that they were caught and were not trying to stay hidden. Thane, still hidden in the brush, placed a hand over his mouth trying desperately to not give himself and Jne up. He knew that to do so would cause no small stir, especially since Jne would be seen as HuMan. She glared at him now as if understanding the jeopardy in which he and Dor had placed them and without warning reached up and flicked his ear hard with her finger. All laughter quickly faded as he gave her a questioning look while trying to rub away the sting.

“Name yourselves,” the guard commanded, lowering his bow but keeping it nocked. The other guard did the same while taking up a better defensive stance close to the trunk of the nearest tree.

“TamVen,” Tam returned, “and DorMar,” she finished, giving Dor a rough tug on his ear before letting it go.

“What mischief is this?!” the man by the tree interjected, his gruff voice breaking with emotion. “TamVen and DorMar are no more.”

Tam’s breath caught in her chest while Dor stood in stunned silence. They had been so occupied with watching PocMar that none of them took real notice of the other two guards. Tam stepped closer, the changing dim light of dusk making it difficult to see as neither their day nor night vision was at full capacity. “Paeh?” she called, tears suddenly streaming down her dirty face.

The man at the tree rushed forward. “Daughter?”

Chapter Twelve 

Helgar pressed them to almost complete exhaustion not allowing more than an hour’s rest a day for food and to regain what little strength they could. They were all anxious about their kin and the safety of Thornen Dar but even the elite guards were beginning to tire. The one who’d brought the message was left behind and told to follow as he could for they would not wait for him to recover knowing that to do so would only slow the rest. It was a near constant march since word came of the attack and the king’s demise and though they all wished for home they would not be able to continue like this much longer. Luckily, the mountains that marked their abode continued to rise in the distance tapping some unknown reserves that strengthened them and pushed them onward.

Now, even more than before, Rangor was determined to protect his prince. With the king dead and Helgar the only living heir, it was all the more imperative he be protected and kept from harm. Until he was crowned king in the Great Hall, Thornen Dar was without a ruler. The sooner Helgar was coronated the better for the dwarf kingdom.

Bedler’s Keep rose up like a beacon in the distance calling them forward, encouraging them to press on, telling them that Thornen Dar was only a day and a half farther. The dark castle was a mere half a day away to where they could just about smell the hard rock of their mountain home. Bardolf considered the keep for a moment realizing that their lives and those of all the good races would be determined there. It was dark and foreboding where it rose from the valley floor, a fortress almost impenetrable by an army alone. But Zadok had no simple army. How would it hold against an army back by sorcery and dragons?

“We be restin’ fer one hour,” Helgar grumbled, “then we be marchin’ until we be reachin’ our gates. Git what sleep be at yer eyes now fer ye won’t be gettin’ none ‘til then.”

There were no protests as the guard simply dropped where they were, not willing to waste precious sleep time on arguing. They were too hardened and loyal to complain anyway. They would have marched straight on the whole way had their lord asked it of them. All were willing to die for their liege, whether that be in battle or marching toward it there was no difference to them. Helgar barely had the words out of his mouth before loud snores could be heard coming from every quarter.

Bardolf approached his friend who had slipped beyond anyone’s grasp since he’d heard of the loss of his father. “Ye be needin’ sleep more then the rest o’ us,” he stated simply. “I’ll be keepin’ watch this hour.” It was a statement; there was no inflection in his voice to suggest otherwise.

Helgar growled. “Do ye be supposin’ to command yer lord?” he spat.

Bardolf ignored the rough edge of his friend’s voice. “If need be,” he answered flatly. “I’ll not be arguin’ ‘bout it neither. Ye can throw whatever royal fit ye be cookin’ up in that stone skull o’ yers but I won’t be backin’ away from it. Now stop wastin’ the hour and git yerself to sleep!”

Helgar’s face was a mask of rage. How dare he talk so insolently to him? He was the rightful king and none dare speak to the king in such tones or countermand him. Helgar rested his hand on the dagger at his side as if he might pull it and bury it deep into Bardolf’s chest, but his friend still remained solid where he stood, his expression tired but resolute. “I won’t be coddled,” Helgar hissed.

“Good,” Bardolf replied. “And I won’t be coddlin’ ye neither. But neither will I be bullied by me friend who not be himself at the moment. Ye need to be restin’ so as ye can be leadin’ us proper when we be reachin’ Thornen Dar. If the beast still be within the mountain we’ll be needin’ a king that can keep his feet, and his wits about him.”

Helgar took in his words and seemed to chew on them for a moment as if seeing how they tasted in his mouth. Finally, he spit but didn’t put up anymore resistance. Turning away he planted himself on a soft piece of grass and almost instantly fell asleep.

It was dusk when the ragged group of dwarves finally reached the heavy doors that marked the entrance to their ancestral home. It had been a hard climb over treacherous rocks and precipices to reach the hidden entrance. No one who did not know exactly where they were going could have found the entry to Thornen Dar, yet alone gained access through the solid stone doors that were hidden to view to the untrained eye. The entrance was of thick rock cut right out of the mountain and fitted so exactly as to leave the entryway invisible; a mere mountain face without sign of being anything else. But all took in a deep breath of awe as they gained the top of the outcropping that was the porch, as it were, to their kingdom. The doors had been blown outward with such force as to unhinge one of them, leaving it face down on the ground before them.

“A dragon indeed,” Helgar hissed, pulling his axe from its resting place on his back. “Prepare yerselves lads,” he continued. “We be huntin’ serpent.”

“To the square!” Rangor commanded the guard as they snapped to formation around Helgar.

The new king made to protest but backed down quickly, realizing he would have to fight them all to get his way. He was the king. And though he hated the idea of being left out of a fight, he knew it was no use in trying to change their minds. These lads had been trained since they were nigh off their mother’s breast to protect the king with their lives—whether the king liked it or not. He knew they would follow Rangor’s orders over his own and there was no time to argue with their captain right now.

The entranceway opened up into a large circular cave-like area that was rough cut all around, making the need for a barred entrance seem ludicrous. Nothing appeared grand or out of the ordinary except for the twenty offshoot tunnels that left the area going in all directions. The dwarfs didn’t even pause to determine which entrance they should pursue but instead moved quickly, with axes ready toward the seventh one on the right. All the other tunnels lead their followers through a myriad of pathways that eventually led to nowhere keeping the dwarf stronghold a secret from any outsiders who stumble upon the entrance.

The corridor quickly closed in, only allowing passage in a single file line. Two of the dwarf guards took the lead allowing Helgar the third place in line. He knew Rangor would not be happy about it, especially since he was forced almost to the rear, but Helgar had elbowed out the dwarf just behind him for the spot and he knew no one would argue now that they were inside and on high alert.

Through multiple twists and turns they pressed on until greeted by five more options. Again, without hesitation they moved to the tunnel just to the left and continued on as the floor gradually sloped downward. Five more small foyers offering multiple tunnel options were passed before they finally reached a large set of thick oak doors that had also been blown out from the inside. Though heavily damaged, the doors still hung precariously to at least one of the hinges though threatening to breakaway from the sheer weight at any moment. Passing through the entrance the dwarfs spread out into their protective square, each peering into the semi darkness in all directions, as they entered Thornen Dar.

“And what be this?” Rangor spoke softly while running a hand over the interior side of one of the doors. “It be wet and the wood turned sodden.”

Helgar inspected the door for himself. “The whole of the area be damp,” Bardolf said, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Even the air be dank and pressin’ in, almost like that that be infestin’ the Underwoods.”

“Aye,” Helgar nodded, trying to dry his hand on his damp shirt. “It be stinkin’ of a foul evil.”

The dwarfs spread out quickly as they entered the great city, their axes at the ready should anything still remain to attack. The air was fouled from the great number of dead that lay scattered about leaving the impression that the city had been caught by surprise. Men, women and children were mixed in the gruesome fray that pulled at the hearts of even these battled hardened dwarfs.

Helgar squatted down by a woman still holding her young daughter. With a hand covering his nose he inspected the bodies. “Look at their skin,” he breathed. They were waxen looking but with large pieces of skin peeling away from the muscle. And they were wet. No one spoke for long moments, each looking at the bodies closest to where they stood, trying to understand what had happened to their kin. Rangor finally commanded the guard to search for survivors while he and Bardolf remained with Helgar.

The once beautiful city that puffed up the dwarf people with pride lay in shattered ruins in all directions. Ornately carved buildings that had once awed the passerby with their artistry and grandeur were now cracked or ruptured into rubble, leaving piles of stone and mortar. The beautiful trees and garden spots that had made the inner cave of Thornen Dar the rival of any aboveground park were torn up or withered while the falls that fed the city was no longer running. And yet, the air was uncommonly hot and wet causing the dwarf’s clothes to dampen and stick uncomfortably to their skin.

Their search was superficial, sticking to the main thoroughfare that led up to the king’s palace. With such small numbers they couldn’t venture far or risk being separated should they face an assault. If it was, in fact, a dragon that attacked their beloved city, as appeared evident from the damage, they needed to stay together to have even the slightest chance.

“Remember lads,” Helgar offered as they inched toward his father’s home, “dragons may be harder than diamonds at their scales but we know that they be soft underneath and bleed just like anything else.” He was referring to their encounter on the journey to Calandra when he was almost taken away in the clutches of a dragon’s talons that had caught him up. It bled well enough then when he’d gotten his axe blade under its scales at the leg. Another of their companions had not been so lucky.

Helgar was anxious to reach the palace and search out his father, but Rangor reined him in, not willing to risk caution for speed. They had to be deliberate and thorough. Though the report was that the king had fallen, Helgar still held on to a sliver of hope that his father and king had somehow escaped the attack. The guard that remained should have been sufficient to at least get him back away from the battle.

After an hour of slinking about from one pile of rubble to another, they finally approached what had once been the pride of the city—Thornen Dar’s grand palace. Though it had faired better than many of the buildings in the city, there were still plenty of marks of battle and damage to the outside. Helgar, Bardolf and Rangor stopped just at the entrance waiting for the rest of the guard to return. Helgar was anxious to get inside and search but Rangor was able to hold him off, at least for the moment.

“Let the guard be regrouping first,” Rangor insisted. “Then we be at an advantage to more quickly be findin’ yer father.”

Helgar huffed but recognized the intelligence of Rangor’s plan. It would just slow them down to go about unorganized and risk researching rooms already looked at or miss others thought to have been searched. Still, it made him want to crawl out of his own skin with anxiety to have to wait. At this point, he would have welcomed a dragon attack just because it would have given him something on which to vent his anger and frustrations.

“I’ve found somethin’” a voice called out to their right.

Everybody quickly converged on the spot. Not far from the steps leading to the palace, next to an overturned cart, one of the dwarf guards was on his knees peering through a small gap created by a large piece of rubble supporting a back corner. “Help me,” shouted Bardolf as he gripped a side and prepared to turn the cart back over. Three others assisted, easily lifting it onto its side. A tiny form instantly scurried back away from the group trying to find escape but quickly found he was surrounded. Pressing his back against the cart he looked like he might try to claw his way over it. “Easy their, laddie,” Bardolf called out, shouldering his weapon and offering opened hands of peace. “Ain’t none of us here goin’ to be hurtin’ ya now. Ye be safe.”

It was a young dwarf boy, his bright red hair, not quite long enough yet to be braided, was knotted and dirty. His clothes were torn and ragged, and it looked like his left arm had been burned. His deep blue eyes darted about for a moment as if he still might try to run before finally settling them on Bardolf who slowly inched forward.

“We have to be hidin’,” the boy suddenly hissed. “It cannot be killed” The boy’s eyes seemed to go out of focus and widened as if he were looking through Bardolf to something terrifying. “It comes with the burning fog. No weapon can harm it.”

All were silent for a brief moment, the boy going quiet save for slight mumblings that were barely audible but nonsensical. “Where be the others?” Bardolf asked, drawing the boy’s attention and focus back to him.

“Deep,” he whispered. “Deep as can be gotten, those that got out. But they will be diein’ jist as soon as it be findin’ ‘em. There be no place it not be findin’ with its burning fog.”

“And what of the king, boy,” Helgar interjected. The boy’s eyes shot about as if suddenly seeing the others for the first time, his body tensing. “Answer me, boy,” Helgar insisted.

The boy’s eyes glazed slightly. “The king be livin’ in the palace, of course,” he whispered, “with all his guard about him.”

Helgar’s face flashed a glimmer of joy and hope that was quickly overrun by doubt. “In the palace, ye say?”

The boy looked at him blankly and then slowly came to his feet. “I’ll lead ye there.” No one moved, all looking to Helgar who regarded the boy as if trying to decide the truthfulness of his claim. Finally, nodding his head, he motioned to the guard to let the boy pass. He wanted to believe that there was truth in the boy’s statement but what he saw around him told him otherwise. The boy paused for a moment as a corridor was open between the rough, weapon clad guards. Looking at Helgar, he smiled slightly, a devious glint in his eyes as he finally moved forward. Helgar watched him pass. Pausing just beyond Helgar’s reach, the boy looked back at him his eyes suddenly filled will wild terror.