The Children of Urdis (Grimwold and Lethos Book 2) (37 page)

"Thorgis," Valda said under her breath. It was not friendly, either. Her hands slid from Lethos's shoulders and she stood up. Feeling ridiculous being the only one on the floor, Lethos stood as well. Voices carried with strange clarity at the bottom of this vault, for though Valda had only whispered the name, all had turned to face her when she had.

"A family reunion," Grimwold said artlessly. Anyone with eyes could see neither Valda nor Thorgis were excited to meet even under these circumstances.

Thorgis shared the same golden hair and piercing eyes as his sister, though his chin was covered in a thin brown beard that showed his youth. His gaunt face strongly resembled the High King's, and his hooded eyes gave him an aloof air of royalty that was out of tune with his ragged appearance. He clasped his father's sword to his chest as if it were an infant under his protection.

"Sister, you've come so far," he said, his voice straining to sound fuller and stronger. Lethos, at least, was not fooled.

She merely nodded at him, and the air at the bottom of the library vault grew frosty for her cold smile. Well, seems like not all families get along, Lethos thought. Why is it so true of royal families in particular, even for a smattering of barbarian islands such as Valahur?

"Tell me there is food waiting for us on the surface," Syrus said. "Something cooked, I hope."

"The hard truth, my friend," Grimwold said, placing his hand on Syrus's shoulder, "is that dead snake was our ride home. We traveled the storm with him to find you. And it seems he had bought his masters time by killing himself."

"Wouldn't he have done better by killing us? Gods know one of their kind is strong enough to do it." Syrus edged closer to the body, his natural curiosity overcoming all his discomfort. Like Lethos, he had probably never seen one up close and wanted a look. He lifted Sharatar's dead face off the ground and his nose wrinkled at what he saw.

"He couldn't have known if I had just lost my grip on him or if the well had gone dry. I could've grabbed him again and he'd have achieved nothing. Using that moment to kill himself was the best blow he could offer us. We're well and truly stranded far from where we need to get."

They sat in silence, everyone staring at dead Sharatar as if he might sit up and offer to fly everyone home. At least that was Lethos's hope. He thought of Avulash and all the blood he had harvested. How many other villages would suffer the same fate while they figured out how to get back to him? Would he become so strong by then so as to be impervious to attack?

"I admit I had not paid much attention to the path we took here," Grimwold said.

"I did." Valda stepped beside Lethos and hoisted her shield on her arm. "I thought it naive at best to trust this monster to lead us anywhere but to a trap."

Thorgis's eyes drifted to the shield on his sister's arm, and he smirked. "You can give me the shield now, Sister. You will not need it."

She raised a brow. "What do you want it for? To hide behind when you piss your breeches at the next battle?"

"Well, I think we shouldn't waste any more time." Lethos stepped between Valda and Thorgis, his arms wide as if to sweep up the group. Syrus snorted a laugh and nodded at Valda's quip, but Thorgis only glowed red and tightened his clasp on the sword. "Let's hurry to the surface where no doubt the clear air will be better for everyone's mood."

Syrus had fetched a load of books from the darkness, and the way he fawned over these was disturbing. Lethos supposed he had sacrificed much to acquire them, but they were just books and not religious fetishes. Even as he struggled to carry the load he would not share it with anyone. He had indicated several other books on the floor for he and Grimwold to carry out, but when Grimwold broke the binding of one, Syrus cried in pain. Grimwold looked like a dog that had snatched meat from the dinner table. "I didn't realize they were so brittle."

Now they clambered back the way they had come. Valda went ahead of everyone, her blond hair streaming behind like she was charging into battle. The shield across her back bobbed as if taunting her brother, who had tried to catch up to her. Lethos went behind with both Grimwold and Syrus. Except for some excruciating progress through areas of pitch-black, they made good time. Deep in lost corridors and undiscovered rooms thuds and booms echoed. They waited for something to happen when these noises reached them, but nothing ever did. Either Tsaldalr was crumbling in its antiquity, or something still lived to make these sounds.

Syrus described the snake demon at length and opined that Tsaldalr was not abandoned but populated with things that had slept through the ages and were now awakened to the activity of outsiders. It was a grim prediction, for whatever might sleep in this darkness could only be something of the Tsal. Lethos had decided the Tsal had left nothing but horrors for the world to discover and disturbing this place was about as wise as rolling in a pit of vipers.

At last they exited to the surface and all shielded their eyes against the bright light of day. In fact, it was overcast and gloomy, another storm threatening to churn the ocean waves to foam and smash the black cliffs in madness. Yet the biting taste of sea salt was a blessing that Lethos inhaled deeply. The brewing storm seemed fierce, but at least it was natural. He now heard the bark of seals down the beach and the call of gulls from the air. These animals would know the difference between a natural and magical storm, and flee anything not of this world.

They decided to follow a path up the cliffs back to the woods where Syrus and Thorgis has first approached Tsaldalr. From there, it seemed nothing at all existed in this place, and in the gray distance the blue towers of Raffheim showed. Grimwold squinted at these. "I forget we're on enemy ground here, though if they knew what we did, they'd set aside their swords."

"Would they?" Thorgis asked. "Avadurians can never be trusted to do more than betray you with a knife in the back. When I am High King, once this business with these Tsal is settled, I will ensure Avadur is destroyed forever."

"That's a few days away, at least," Lethos said, laughing nervously. He again tried to intercept Valda and prevent a showdown between the siblings, but surprisingly Grimwold stepped forward.

"I shall say that day will never come." Grimwold towered over Thorgis, a full head taller and far broader than the young man. Even without knowing the powers he possessed, Grimwold was still intimidating. "I have come to collect that sword from you. It is not yours to bear any longer."

Thorgis's face turned red again and contorted with anger. "My father gave this to me. Who are you to speak against him?"

Valda seemed to hold her breath, her hands clasped over her chest as if expecting something dire. Syrus only snorted in derision, then set his load of books in the grass. Grimwold closed his eyes and rather than sense irritation from him, Lethos felt a strange calm. He broke the silence at last. "Very well, you may carry it a while longer. The main point is to prevent the weapon from falling into the hands of the Tsal."

The remainder of the day was spent finding shelter. They located an abandoned farmhouse where weeds had overgrown the inside and the roof had collapsed in most places. It served as a potentially dry place to hide. Lethos had extra clothing salvaged from the last village, and he passed these to Syrus and Thorgis who both shivered at the cold air. At last, Grimwold declared he would go alone to find transportation from an Avadurian ship.

"The fewer traveling the better, and I am already refreshed enough with power to dominate a small crew."

Lethos raised his brows at that statement. "I didn't even feel anything. Are you sure?"

"You're not paying attention," Grimwold said, then winked and gave a sly glance toward Valda. Lethos felt his face grow warm. He had been hovering about her since Thorgis's rescue and did not realize it. Grimwold continued, "Syrus, study the books you have found while I'm gone. I am confident you will find our next steps hidden in those pages."

It was an unceremonious departure, and Lethos watched Grimwold disappear toward the shoreline. For hours after his departure, Lethos continually tested his mental connection with Grimwold and expected to discover a horrible problem. Yet each time he received assurances all was well.

The storm eventually arrived but was nowhere as violent as it had seemed. Thorgis had returned empty-handed from his attempts at hunting, no doubt spoiled by the storm. Only Syrus seemed happy enough with the circumstances. He had been disappointed in the lack of food, mumbled something about raw cave fish, then took up his studying in the driest corner of the ruined house.

Grimwold had no luck finding anything in his first day, confirmed with a short mental communication. Syrus spent his day in study, with Valda attempting to help him, and Thorgis left to hunt. Lethos was as useful as a tree stump, but was glad for peace. By the end of the second day, Thorgis had cornered a rabbit somehow, and Grimwold reported finding a ship. Everything seemed improved, but then Syrus looked up from his books with his eyes blood-shot and bleary.

"We have lost too much time," he said.

"Grimwold has found a ship, and will get us back," Lethos said. He couldn't finish his statement since he had no idea of where they were going next. He was glad to leave the planning up to Grimwold at this stage. He had done enough already, hadn't he?

Syrus shook his head. "The Order of Phyros predicted just this sort of invasion from the Tsal. It's all here in this book." He patted the thick book resting across his folded legs. The other books were in a haphazard stack beside him, serving as an armrest. A patch of light from the broken roof fell across the pages he indicated.

"The Tsal, the First People, were banished from the world for their blood magic. They combined wild stone with blood and flesh to create abominations and slaves. Something we've seen ourselves."

"They made a giant from the flesh of King Eldegris's troops and some of Grimwold's blood," Lethos said. "And their ship was full of slaves that I fear might once have been human."

"Yes, slaves are important to them," Syrus said, running his finger along a line of faded text as if he were looking up his answer. "They would do nothing themselves if they could avoid it. They were beloved of Urdis, who in those days was not the god of deceit but of pleasure and leisure. Anyway, that's not the point. The Tsal offended and were to be destroyed, but Urdis loved his children and made a deal with the other gods so they could be preserved. The gods physically broke off a land to give to the Tsal and placed it far in the ocean. They surrounded the land with a mist that no one could ever penetrate. They might wander forever within it.

"The Tsal have sought a way through it. Urdis promised that with persistence the Tsal could get back to the world they had lost. That is what these Tsal have done. After all these thousands of years, they have found their way through the mists. The crumbs of the land the gods broke away are now Valahur and Avadur."

Syrus gave Lethos a level look with his keen dark eyes, as if expecting him to be shocked. Frankly, history mattered little to him as long as these Tsal were stopped.

"But what of this Order of Phyros?" Valda asked. "The swords and such?"

"Phyros had his own children, the Manifested." Here he gave Lethos another look, and this time it had his attention. "As part of the bargain, Urdis made they were to never interfere with the Tsal again. There's not a full accounting of that story in these books, but it seems Urdis somehow robbed the Manifested of much of their powers in this deal. Hence the name of the Deceiver. In any case, the Manifested were forbidden from taking action of any kind where the Tsal were concerned, even self-defense. So Phyros, or Danir as we call him, established an order of paladins to serve him and protect against the Tsal. Again, these texts all assume the reader knows this history. It does not go into details to create a whole picture. The Order and their swords, however, were clearly set against the Tsal."

They sat in silence, Valda staring at the pile of books as if she might absorb all their knowledge by glaring alone. Thorgis was skinning the rabbit outside and preparing their meager dinner. Whatever anyone felt about Thorgis, Lethos was glad for his hunting skill or they'd all starve. For a while all they heard was the rustle of dead grass and Thorgis humming contentedly.

"Why are we too late?" Lethos asked at length. "You have not said."

"According to your story, they had carried a large piece of wild stone aboard their ark. They also targeted Norddalr, which was one of their traditional homes."

"Impossible," Valda said. "It was my father's stronghold."

Syrus shook his head. "Norddalr, Tsaldalr, and Raffheim are all named as Tsal strongholds in these texts. The names have come down in different forms, but the maps are clear. In any case, they took Norddalr first for its towers are higher than Raffheim's. They have set a beacon for their king, who can see this through the mists. This is what the Order feared the most. Once the beacon is lit, the king will follow it with his people."

"Then we must destroy the beacon," Valda said simply. "How is it done?"

"I do not know. The book does not indicate, or it is beyond my ability to understand it. In any case, we would have to go to Norddalr, and if the wild stone is used, then neither Grimwold nor Lethos can approach it."

"Can't it just be kicked apart?" Lethos asked, knowing the simple solution never worked.

Syrus shook his head. "I don't know. It is connected to the captain of the white ark that carried the stone."

Lethos looked at Valda, and he voiced what both knew. "Avulash must be killed before we can destroy the beacon. And we can't get anywhere near him."

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The journey by boat was less spectacular than traveling by a storm cloud, but Lethos was grateful for the mundane. The large Avadurian fishing vessel was no different from any of the others that dotted the waters of these barbarian lands. A crew of five men bent easily to Grimwold's will and seemed even cheerful enough to be sailing directly for the lands of their ancient rivals. It took several days of travel, camping on the coast of Avadur as they went, but soon the island of Finnmogur loomed on the horizon. After days of being in everyone's way aboard the overfilled ship, Lethos was glad to step onto land again.