Greyrawk (Book 2) (18 page)

"Poison?"

"You don't think we allowed you to fight him at his full strength? He had Celaeri blood and he would have lived another score years in excellent health. He was too strong for you. No, we had to hurry the process along."

"I killed him fairly!"

"No, you did not. Although his death was necessary you may not tarnish his memory in such a way. Aryar Greyrawk was a formidable foe, even for me. You are merely Men, and of little danger to Celaeri. No, Dacu, without the poison Aryar would have cut you to ribbons. So we had our agent attend to it."

Lockwell stepped out of the shadows and bowed.

"I remember you," said Belderag. "You were there at the battle. I wasn't sure whose side you were on."

"I serve Jerue Adan," said Lockwell.

Belderag sensed something behind and turned suddenly.

"Hello, Dacu," said Ioane Adan. "Did I hear you mention Loric?"

"Yes, he is in Gornst with Alarie Skye and the Talos Company."

"Who leads the Talos Company?" asked Ioane Adan.

"Kerreth Veralier," snapped Jerue Adan. "You know that as well as anyone. Don't be coy. It's very human."

"Do not be alarmed," said Ioane Adan. "I wasn't sure if Veralier still lived."

"He does and he will be coming here," said Jerue Adan. "We must be prepared to kill him and Loric. We must be certain they are dead. Can you do that?"

"Do you doubt I can kill Loric?" asked Ioane Adan.

"You failed before."

"He is my son; my flesh and blood. It was difficult to focus on killing him. Have you no concern for your own children?"

"I have concern right now," said Jerue Adan.

"I think this conversation is not for my ears," said Belderag.

"Agreed," said Jerue Adan. "We will discuss parental responsibility in private. What else do you want, Belderag?"

Belderag went to his horse and pulled out the sword of Aryar Greyrawk. He knelt before Jerue Adan and offered the sword to him.

"Well, well. This is surprising." He lifted the sword and swung it. "Ah, still light as a feather. What is the price for this?" He looked sharply at Belderag.

Ian Greyrawk sat slumped against the stone barrier surrounding the Mother Stone. He was unsteady from loss of blood and drifted in and out of dreams and images. He thought he saw Belderag talking to Jerue Adan, but he knew it wasn't true. Dacu Belderag was the enemy of the Celaeri. Didn't Ioane say she believed him to be the leader of the Vlakan? Wait, didn't some Vlakan turn into Celaeri by the power of the Mother Stone? Was he losing his mind? He looked again and was sure it was Belderag with Jerue Adan. Belderag walked over to a horse and returned with a sword. The shape was unmistakable; it was Aryar Greyrawk's sword. Why was Belderag giving it to the Celaeri? Wasn't Belderag their enemy? It did not make sense and Greyrawk was too weak to fight through the cobwebs, but he knew one thing; he had to escape. He found that thought and held it tight. He had to find someone who could help him. Brandalay, whatever happened to Brandalay? He vaguely remembered some incident on the road north. Were they attacked? Brandalay left with someone else and he never saw him again. Where was Brandalay and who was he with? Why can't he remember?

Well, the thing to do would be to head to Gornst and find Arenna Aruk. She would know where Brandalay was. Walter Nunderburg would be of no use unless he was absent from his castle and Greyrawk could contact Lady Nunderburg. But that was too much risk for her. He would make for Gornst although the miles were greater than to Nunderburg.

He rolled to his knees and crawled into the bushes as if he was going to relieve himself. He peered out and did not see anyone watching him. He saw Jerue Adan walk to the Mother Stone with the sword Belderag gave him. Jerue Adan leaned and touched the blade to the stone. The air was split with a tearing screech and the blade began to glow green. Greyrawk ducked his head and made his escape.

He was so weak and had no weapons but he didn't dare look for any. He kept on his knees until he was below the top of the hill, then he moved east around the hill. He would not drop down to the lowlands until he had no choice. He moved steady, not too fast, still he felt the strain of movement in his weak body. He focused on each step, gaining a rhythm, but even that did not hold his concentration and he recalled seeing the first time he saw the Mother Stone.

Ioane Adan led him to the ruined walls of Castle Greyrawk. The cornerstone still remained but it had cracked. Another Celaeri came forward with a spear and wedged the tip into the crack, working it back and forth. The effort was gentle but relentless and the crack widened. Greyrawk turned to see Jerue Adan standing just behind him.

"Behold, Ian Greyrawk, the Mother Stone of the Celaeri. It has been on this hill for time eternal. It awaited us in the dawn of time and sustained us in the eons that followed."

The stone slid apart, revealing a hollow of a yard square. In the hollow sat an oval stone, polished like glass, dark with violet swirls in its depths. One end still showed cutting marks from where the seven stones had been removed. Greyrawk leaned over to look into it and Ioane grabbed his arm and slit his forearm, dripping blood onto the stone. Greyrawk turned to Ioane to object, but she did not notice, her gaze was upon the stone. The stone absorbed his blood; and it glowed from deep within; flickering lights dancing among the violet swirls. It was mesmerizing. He thought he could see Landermass in its youth and the Celaeri as bright shining stars dancing in the fields. He felt Ioane's hand grab his shoulder and pull him back.

"You were leaning too far. It is not safe to touch the stone now. We must wait for it to sing to us. Then we may approach, but we will never touch the Mother Stone. Its power is too pure; it would strip the skin from your body and you would not wish to pull away. Even in its waning the stone had great power. My mother tried to keep it glowing and was consumed by its power. I can still hear her screams." Ioane's vision looked into the past and she returned with a shudder. "Sit over there, Ian Greyrawk, and watch our people reclaim their true forms."

Greyrawk slumped down, light-headed and weak. He tore a strip of cloth from his cloak and wrapped his arm. The music of the stone began. He watched the shadowy figures approach the Mother Stone. They do not touch the stone, they gaze into its depths and the light is transferred to them. The shadows dropped away revealing the pale blue skin underneath and the flesh lives again. The pale skin and the bright blue, white or black hair of the Celaeri begin to fill the space around the castle walls. The eyes of copper or violet reflect the light remolding the Celaeri into creatures of Landermass again. Through his fog, Greyrawk hears the singing grow start slowly then soar to the treetops.

Greyrawk shakes the memories from his mind. He is hidden on the wild eastern slopes of Greyrawk Mountain, weak, hungry and alone. He had no one to help him reach Gornst. The bushes were gnarled and the branches grabbed at his clothing, tripping him. The mountain did not want to let go of him. He belonged there, he knew, but the Celaeri no longer did. They had changed, twisted over the centuries, becoming bitter and cruel. Their wars would no longer be of joy and adventure, but killing, slaughtering and eliminating their opponents. The Celaeri were no longer a young people. They clung to their bitter existence and what they would hold up as justification to be the masters of the land while Men slaved for them. Greyrawk would not see that happen. He would not allow that to happen. His eyes were open now and although he had engineered the return of the strength of the Celaeri he would resist and drive them back into the shadow. He pulls his cloak tighter around him and settles in under a tree to rest.

"Ian?"

"Yes, Jaele?" He stretched on the bed, the cool morning breeze easing him to wakefulness. She stood near the window watching the people in the street below.

"When can we quit the mercenary life? We've saved money. We could buy our own home. We could open an inn."

"An inn? That's a lot of hard work. You can see me working in an inn?"

"You'll get used to it. You can serve the ale and listen to the stories of the travelers. I can run the inn and the hired help. My uncle had an inn and put me to work in the kitchen. After a time I learned more of the business. Just hang your sword behind the counter and lord over the common room."

"You've thought about this a lot?" He stretched and got to his feet, pulling on his trousers.

"I admit it."

"You are tired of our work? You are the best woman fighter in the world. You draw out their guards and slice them down so fast, the caravan leaders always surrender immediately. No one else could fool them so well."

"I don't want to fight all my life. We are getting older, Ian. I am getting older. I feel it in my muscles. It takes longer to recover from a battle or days of hard riding. It's time for me to make a change."

"You want me to quit, too?"

"I don't want you to die on a muddy road alone. I want to raise our children and have a life away from killing. I want to grow old with you." She turned from the window, her arms crossed, her hair down on her forehead. Greyrawk walked to her and kissed her. He looked into her eyes.

"All right. We are signed on for two more jobs. When we return, we shall find us an inn to buy."

"Truly?"

"Truly. Nothing can keep me from that promise," said Greyrawk.

The sharp edge of the rocks jolted him back. He had reached an area where much of the eastern tower had fallen and the wind and rain changed the orderly tower stones into jagged pieces of rock scattered over a wide area. He had reached the eastern most slopes and now it was time to move down. He tried to stand, stumbled and caught himself on a dead branch. It snapped, sending him to the turf. The sharp crack of the wood breaking seemed to echo in the still air. Greyrawk lay still, listening for any sound that would indicate pursuit. After several minutes, he tried again.

He felt steadier after the delay. He no longer wavered with each step; instead he felt a connection to the ground, steadying him. He took a deep breath, listened and set off down the hill. He moved slowly, resisting the urge to hurry. He had not heard anything that would indicate his disappearance was noted. They wouldn't miss him until they needed more blood. Ioane Adan felt she had Greyrawk tied to her and the Celaeri. Besides, as weak as he was Greyrawk had no business trying to escape. He hoped the Celaeri thought he was beyond such effort and would not search for him beyond Greyrawk Mountain.

The trees grew close near the bottom of Greyrawk Mountain and the underbrush was thick. If he could eliminate most of the noise of his passing he could cover a mile or so without being seen. The forest paralleled the road to Gornst and he would hear pursuit coming down the road before it was upon him. He would slip deeper into the wood to avoid capture. His heart pounded as he moved out across the low hills. He was nearly free.

Greyrawk had covered three miles when he heard the horses on the road. He slipped deeper into the forest and waited. The horses continued past him and their sound faded off toward Gornst. He knew they would be waiting for him in the farmland beyond the forest. There would be no chance of slipping past them unseen.

Jaele flagged down the wagon. A guard jumped down and walked to her with sword at the ready.

"What is the problem?" asked the guard. "Are you injured?"

"No, but you will be," said Jaele. She drew her sword and lunged toward the guard. He was expecting her attack and brought his sword up to block the blow. The back of the wagon opened up and a dozen more guards jumped out.

"It's a trap!" yelled Greyrawk. He jumped down from the rocks and engaged the guards. The other mercenaries revealed themselves and ran forward to the fight. The superior numbers of the mercenaries cut down the guards. The wagon did not hold any goods to steal.

"Greyrawk!" called a mercenary.

He ran over to Jaele, who lay in the road, her side bloodied.

"Jaele!"

"Looks worse than it is," said Jaele. Her face was pale and pinched by pain but she managed a grin. "Got my side a bit, but no deeper. Just a lot of blood. I'll heal up fine with you waiting on me hand and foot."

"What about the next time?" asked Greyrawk. Jaele could see his hands were shaking.

"You always tell me I'm the best at what I do. Are you telling me to quit?"

"I don't know what I want you to do. But I do know I do not want to lose you."

She smiled. "Right answer. Come on, help me up. Or would you leave a lady lying on a road?"

That was as good as Greyrawk could remember feeling inside at any time in his life.

Greyrawk crept back toward the road to where walking was easier. He angled east and would meet the road just as it cleared the forest. The road was faster and over the farmlands would slow him. He had to take the risk. He stopped to catch his breath, looking east and turned west.

"Ian, there you are." Ioane Adan stood in front of him, her sword in her hand. "You are needed on Adan's Hill. That is where you must stay. It is not safe anywhere else."

Two Celaeri rode up with additional horses.

"You can ride back. You must be tired from your journey. You are a man of extraordinary strength, Ian Greyrawk. I am so happy to have you on our side."

She grabbed his arm and brought the point of the blade to his throat.

"Do not make me appear foolish in front of my father again. I will slit your throat without a thought. You are not full Celaeri and your death will not be mourned." She looked into his eyes.

"Your only purpose is to bring the Celaeri all the way back into this world."

"But if you kill me the stones will grow weak again."

"You are an intelligent man, Ian Greyrawk. But it will not save your life. Mount your horse."

Greyrawk mounted the horse and rode back to Adan's Hill without a word.

The Altenguds generally did not manipulate the world for their own ends; they set things in motion and sat back and observed. On the other hand, the Jungeguds walked among the races and pushed and pulled everything they could. Some such as the Menaloch and Agnaran used their strength to corrupt creation into their playthings. Galamog poisoned life and twisted it and claimed dominion. The races fended for themselves against the Jungeguds and the Altenguds watched everything.