The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains (50 page)

“For me? Well I don’t really…allright, a trade then.” Zen took the weapon, putting it on his left side and hefting the blacksteel hammer of Marlennak over his shoulder as he picked up his shield.

Dalliunn swung the hammer, lighter steel than the heavy black they used here. He seemed to like it. “
Hiiilousii neerrllga?”

“Yes, we are heading west, that way.” Zen pointed to the right. “A long way to go, my friend.”

Dalliunn, not letting go of the warhammer for a moment, licked Azenairk on the cheek. Then to Shinayne, Gwenneth, and James the same. Saberrak gave him a pat on the shoulder and nodded, giving the hint not to try it. He jumped up, licked a horn, and padded of back to Marlennak, swinging the hammer round and round with every few steps and watching the sky.

“Ye got the fresh water and food for travel?” Zen asked, staring to the west in the dark of night.

“Yes, we are set. Are you sure you want to leave this way, Zen?” Shinayne asked quietly.

“Aye. They don’t believe it, they be tryin’ to have Gwenneth talk me out of it, and you all as well I am sure. We be just goin’ on faith and promises anyway, why wait around for more opinions? I know what they will say, I have heard them all before.”

Zen waited, waited for contradictions from the ladies, maybe James even. There was silence, the mountains made more noise than his friends did right now.

“Are we going to start out, or stand here til morning?” James spoke first, someone had to. He walked to the west.

“No objections then?” Zen turned to face them.

“Plenty actually. But I would not be here if they mattered in comparison.” Gwenneth smiled to her dwarven companion and walked ahead with James.

“Elf, minotaur, any last words?”

“Just try and keep up.” Saberrak jogged ahead.

“You have a lot of doubts, Zen, make sure that of the four of us are
never
among them.” Shinayne ran after her scouting partner.

“Aye, won’t happen again. Farewell Marlennak and great kings. Kakisteele, we be comin’.” Zen looked to the dark mountaintops, smiling as he charged ahead.

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“
Wha…wha…arrgghhh…uhhh
…what is it then?”

“Brother, ye’ drink too much, makes ye’ hard to wake up.”

“Me neck, where the hells am I?”

“Historium, sleepin’ with yer’ head down on the table. High Hammer found somethin’ o’ interest. Come look.” Drodunn smacked his brother on the back of the head, enough to widen his eyes.

“Been forever it seems, and just
somethin’ o’ interest
? I’d o’ found the damn lost mines myself by now, if they existed.” Tannek hated the smell of books, this was the only place in Marlennak there was never to be any excitement.

“
Right here
, right here it is boys.” Brunnwik pointed down at a page, a page among thousands within the fifty or more tomes he had strewn all over the massive stone tables. Sconces of divine light flickered, the silence was choking, and three dwarves sat alone amidst thousands upon thousands of years of history, locked in the top room, in secret.

“Too tired to read it, what is it?”

“It says that a lady named Undrabek died in travel to the Zuran Mountains, all her belongings to her eldest daughter, Gherrina, one of four children that made the trip to Fazurand just over two thousand years ago. The deceased had a surname she wished
not to be mentioned
, but for posterity, twas
Sheldathain
.” Brunnwik smiled, his wrinkles above the gray beard tightened.

“So,
if there is anything
, it is in Fazurand. Likely tucked away with all their wealth and vaults under the temples.” Drodunn sat, not very inspired at the latest.

“Nope. Says here, in this book,
Undrabek children taken into adopted family, named Arnepyke, three girls, a boy
, and
unnamed heirlooms
of great value.” The High Hammer sighed, looking to his lesser priest and to the Southern Marshall.

“So, they got adopted in, normal for any clan that lost their parents. What of it?” Tannek put his head back down.

“Fazurand
always
denotes each and every bit of value, down to the last gold coin when that happens. Like all the rest here, except
this one and one other
out of thousands.”

“So they had something,
maybe important
, something they did not want to---“Drodun was cut off.

“…did not want
anyone, in any city, to ever
know of. Exactly. Then,
Gherrina Arnepyke
marries Ackupha Joudeppe, a gem cutter with a very deep set o’ mines he owns. She takes the name Joudeppe. They has themselves a girl, firstborn, name her
Vulanri
, which means
what
? Come on, what does it mean?” Brunnwik barked the question to his two assistants.

“Means
hope
, don’t it?” Tannek did not follow.

“Exactly. Just like the tablet,
“carry the Hope
”. Says here that
Hope Joudeppe
, inherits untold heirlooms,
second
place it is not specific, as Fazurand always is. War of some dragons and giants,
blah, blah, blah
, and right here!” Brunnwik was stirring them up, excited more than he could handle.

“What? What does it say?” Drodunn was anxious.

Brunnwik jumped to another book, the brothers Anduvann in tow over his shoulder. “Gherrina and Ackupha are among those killed in Fazurand in the war. But, Vulanri,
Hope
, Joudeppe leaves the eastern dwarven city,
and to here
!”

Another book, another table, this one about Boraduum and its lineages. “Vulanri Joudeppe enters Boraduum, and
eventually marries who…?....who…?”

“Well
who
then dammit, I be’ all excited here!” Tannek growled.

“King Nentariun the Fourth, of clan
Thalanaxe
. Yes, clan
Thalanaxe
boys! Says she brought
three great gifts
that will not be mentioned beyond
the iron box
they are contained in, are of sacred nature, and will be passed down to their children without written word due to
historical and religious value.
Nentariun the Fourth was the great, great, great, great, great grandfather of Kimmirik Thalanaxe, Azenairk’s father.” Brunnwik breathed out, tears in his eyes, matching the eyes of the only other two in the room.

“
Dust, the deed, and the key. How many is that?”
Tannek whispered, afraid to talk.

“
Tis three, brother. Three items in an iron box.”
Drodunn sniffled.

“
I don’t believe it, we just let the heir of Kakisteele into our city, showed him around, and made fun of him in front o’ fifty dwarven lords, and our two kings.”
High Hammer gulped, wiped his eyes, and looked at all the books.

“
We just met a king?”
Tannek still could not fathom it.

“Aye brother, we need to tell our two kings and the nobles o’ the thronesroom. Find Azenairk Thalanaze and his companions, and settle this the right way. They be stayin at the Pub o’ the Bearded Hammer, they bought rooms for two nights, send messengers to fetch em’.” Drodunn looked around, no, no one else here.

“Aye, I will.”

“The armor, the crown, the hammer o’ that strange gold steel, we need to send for it and get it to its rightful owner.” Brunnwik sighed, straightening his robes, knowing it would be an argument indeed to admit how they found their answers.

“And how will we explain all that, the crypt and all?” Tannek stood, stretched, and slapped his face a bit to make sure he was not dreaming.

“I will accept all the blame there, brothers Anduvann, no worries.”

“No, can’t do that. I’ll stand with ye’.”

“Me too, all in this together now. Stength in numbers.”

“Allright, allright, I don’t be likin’ you two
that much now
, but enough to share some blame, let’s go to the kings.” High Hammer Brunnwik led them out of the Historium, past the Temple o’ the Cracked Wall, and into Castle Vairrek.

An hour passed, the empty thronesroom sat quiet. The guard had said the kings were awake, but nothing more. Another hour, Tannek was sleeping, Drodunn too, and the guard told the High Hammer that the kings were having breakfast, but dressed for court. One more hour, the guard saw three sleeping dwarves in the thronesroom and decided not to tell them the kings were on their way, each with the noble advisors they had eaten their morning meals with.

“Well, seems the High Hammer and his priest, and the Southern Marshall, all be sleepin’ it off in our room, eh’ brother? Must be imporatant.”

“Aye, let em rest. Not much on the agenda today in any regard.” King Rallik waved his hand, noble dwarves taking seats around the snoring three.

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“Storms to the south, blistering sun rising high ahead in the west, another beautiful day in the Misathi!” Zen could not have been happier to be out in the open again, going the right direction made him feel closer to fulfilling his promise with each step.

“Not sure I agree with the cheer, but the storm is certain. Heading west, like us.” James held his hand over his eyes, his sweat smelled like whiskey and mead, his fingers trembling as he stayed behind his friends.

“Aye, strange clouds there. Have ye’ seen our scouts Gwenneth?”

“No, nor our royal escorts, nor any shade. Just heat, red rock, mountains, and more heat. Did I mention how hot it is?” Gwenne had changed into her blue student robes, still dark and absorbing the rays of the sun, but better than her master graduate black garments.

“Thank Alden for white tabards and the breeze in the pass.”

“Hold up now. Somethin’ not right ahead. Look.” Zen put his hand up, gaze focused to the south side of the vale.

There to the left and halfway up the side of a small peak, stood Shinayne and Saberrak. The rock was scorched black hundreds of feet across and half a mile long. It looked like a line of black ink had been drawn from above across the slope. The elven noble and the gray minotaur stood amidst some sort of rubble at the genesis of the burned scar of stone, stood still and quiet.

“I counted fourteen, and twice that in humans with melted metal over their bones. Two of the totems, one there and one over there, also burned to near cinders. Quite a battle.” Shinayne looked over the charred remains of human soldiers, horses, and skeletons nearly three times her own height.

“Same giants,
Mogi
as the dwarves called them, like the one that Azenairk killed. Horses with leather saddles, humans with steel, all burned in a group here. The line continues, so the dragon was flying past them when it happened. Less than two days I would say.” Saberrak could smell the black blood, the Mogi blood, even after being burned alive by the flaming breath of the dark wyrm. He looked to the totems, pieces of horned skull seemed to watch him, perhaps only because he knew they were beacons.

“Seems your winged friend does not care for humans, horses, or the Mogi giants, Gwenne.” She spoke loud enough for her approaching companions to hear. Shinayne kicked the horned skull from the ruined totem that Saberrak was staring with.

“I don’t think she cares for anyone, or anything. Just revenge and fire and food. They are ahead of us, then, right?”

“Would seem that way, keep a watchful eye up in the air everyone.” Saberrak huffed.

“She had riders, three if I recall. A woman, a man, and a red minotaur. These were some of those soldiers from Willborne. I wonder if they are hunting the dragon, or us?” James was confused.

“Let em all kill each other, we just keep ahead and stay outta their way. What is that over there though?” Zen pointed toward the end of the line of blackened rock. Small piles of something had attracted crows.

Shinayne led, then Saberrak behind her. The rest trapsed down to the level ground of the valley and kept pace. As she got closer, the crows flapped in defiance of interruption. They warned with caws and squawks, but eventually took flight to the peaks as the elf came close.

“Oh Siril have mercy.”

“What is it?”

“Hundreds of chewed off hooves with horseshoes, piles of armor without bodies, and a blanket of blood and scraps covers it all. She fed here.” Shinayne was revolted, the view was horrific.

“She does not like steel then, good to know.” Saberrak huffed. The humor did nothing for his friend.

“What is it up there?!” James yelled to Saberrak and Shinayne.

“Tell them it’s nothing, no need to worry them.” Saberrak’s deep voice was low and quiet.

“We cannot kill that dragon, it is impossible. That beast could take on armies, cities, it melts the stone and steel with its breath. I think there is plenty of need for concern here.” Shinayne waved her hand for them to move on and shook her head casually. She was worried, but agreed that the others did not need to see this grotesque scene, nor hear of it.

“It does not know where we are going, and it will tire of searching if it is truly looking for us.” Saberrak tried to be reassuring.

“But I felt it, in my meditations, it
is looking
for us, horned one. We killed its children.”

“Then we will do the same to the mother if she crosses us again. I do not fear---“