The Immortal Mystic (Book 5) (30 page)

Nerekar shook his head. “Do you know why we are called Blacktongues?” he asked.

Lady Arkyn pulled her bow back and let an arrow fly. The shaft grazed Nerekar’s head, drawing a thin line of red from his temple to the back of his head where the arrow sunk into the tree.

“I should not have hired the mercenaries to handle the runners,” Nerekar said. “Though, I must know, what was it like to have a group of men led by a midget take down the mighty Gorin?”

Lady Arkyn set another arrow.

Nerekar grinned. “I inspected his body you know, after the mercs failed to check in with me. I guess our information was wrong on that too though, Rangkor told me that you died from that encounter. I must say I am impressed you held the charade this long. I should have expected it.” He winced suddenly and gasped for breath.

Lady Arkyn pulled back and aimed for the Blacktongue’s chest. “Give me the names, I won’t ask again.

“Your threats don’t frighten me, child,” Nerekar said. “Let me answer the question I put to you a moment ago, so you may tell others that we are called Blacktongues because we never betray our secrets.” Nerekar growled and chomped down hard with his jaw. Lady Arkyn watched in disgust as the man spit out his bloody, severed tongue. Nerekar laughed maniacally at her then, letting the blood flow out over his lower jaw.

Lady Arkyn sent the final arrow to end the macabre display. Nerekar jerked back upon impact as the shaft nailed him to the elm. The light in his eyes dimmed and his head drooped. Lady Arkyn turned back and made the journey to Ten Forts.

*****

The next afternoon, Lepkin emerged from the dungeon with a list of six names written on a piece of paper.

“How did you get him to talk?” Mercer asked.

Lepkin shoved the paper into Mercer’s chest. “Have the others round them up. I am going to see my wife.”

Mercer stood there, dumbly holding the piece of paper and glancing nervously between the dungeon door and the large man walking away from him. He stood there a moment, deciding whether to press Lepkin for answers or simply to let the hero go. Ultimately Lepkin made the decision for him by leaving without any regard for what Mercer wanted. He simply disappeared down the hall without another word. Mercer knew he couldn’t blame the man. After all, he spent the last month without his wife, without any word of her condition, and now that the traitors were exposed, he had only one objective on his mind.

Mercer sent the dragon slayers to round up the others. They successfully arrested four of them. The other two had tried to escape and were killed. Over the course of the day, they were all tried publicly in the courtyard. Ultimately each of them confessed to their crimes. Two sobbed like babies while one stood silent and the last one decried King Mathias and insisted he had done what had to be done for the betterment of the Middle Kingdom.

The headsman’s axe put a quick end to each of them. Rangkor, who had been bound and gagged throughout the trial was put to death last without trial, as Mercer had declared his crimes needed no trial. Then the five bodies were hung over the main gate facing the battlefield.

Mercer had hoped that would send a message to the orcs.

He was wrong.

The next morning he woke to receive a message brought to him by a battered and bloody runner. The westernmost fort had been taken in the night, and the fort adjacent to it had fallen by dawn. Before the commander could think how to effectively counter the attack, a dwarf messenger arrived with a call for help. The second easternmost fort had fallen as well. The dwarves were now in the third most eastern fort, barely able to hold off the orcs, who had tripled in numbers.

“Four forts conquered,” Mercer whispered aloud to himself as he stared at each of the notes. “If these numbers are accurate, then the orcs out number us four to one now. Do we have a list of casualties?”

The dwarf stepped forward. “No list, but of the five hundred dwarves that came to your aid, only three hundred remain. Of the men that fought with us in the two forts, only five hundred and fifty remain, but many of them are wounded and can no longer fight. We need support.”

The other runner shook his head and his shoulders slumped. “There are three survivors from the western forts. The orcs are already moving upon the third westernmost fort, and I have no way of knowing how many have been lost during the time I ran the message here.”

“By the gods,” Mercer said. “How could this have happened? We routed those pig-faced dogs only a month ago, and our scouts have not seen any reinforcements approach.”

The doors opened again at the end of the hall. From outside, Mercer could hear the bells ringing again. The officer running in was breathing heavy and pointing over his shoulder.

“The orcs are back!” he yelled. “They have the ram and they are coming for the gates.”

Mercer let the papers fall and he slumped back to sit in his chair. “Pull the men back,” he said. “We will concentrate all of our forces into the two central forts. Dig in and hold the forts until Al returns with reinforcements.”

The two messengers nodded and turned to run. The officer finished running up to Mercer and bent over to catch his breath. He then straightened and clasped a hand to his chest.

“Go to the surgeon and fetch Peren,” Mercer said.

“You mean Marlin, the priest?” the officer corrected.

Mercer shook his head. “No, it is Peren. Too much to explain now, just go. I will get Marlin and Lepkin.”

The officer hesitated.

Mercer smacked the man with the back of his hand. “Go now, man, before the ram is at our gate!”

Erik sat upon a fallen pine with stark, brittle branches. He reached into his pouch and pulled three raspberries out and plopped them into his mouth. He squished the tart juice out with his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth and then chewed the fleshy bits a couple of times before swallowing. He looked up, hearing an exasperated sigh coming from his left.

Jaleal approached from a nearby tree and shook his head. “I went out another few miles, but still nothing,” he said. “I am beginning to think that your wizard friend sent us off the wrong way.”

Erik waved the notion off with his left hand. “I read him with my power. His intentions were only to help us.”

“You were wrong about Salarion,” the gnome pointed out as he held his hand out for his spear.

Erik tossed the weapon to him casually and pushed off from the log. “Maybe he just misjudged the distance,” Erik offered.

“You said that he told you it would be a journey of days. It has been a month, Erik.”

Erik shrugged. “Maybe it is only a journey of days if you are in dragon form.”

Jaleal threw his hands out to the side and mocked a flapping motion. “Well, I can’t fly and last I checked, neither can you. So if it was days as a dragon flies, then we are in for a very, very long journey.”

Erik sealed his pouch and started walking eastward along the narrow trail. “Then I guess we best keep moving.”

“When we pass by that wizard in his cozy little tower I reserve the right to smack him upside the head,” Jaleal said.

Erik laughed. It had been a while since he had seen Jaleal so agitated, but it made sense. They had both become tired of subsisting on berries and the few rabbits they found grazing along the forest floor. The mountains were extremely steep so as to prevent climbing over them without risking injury or death. The only thing they could do was follow the single, narrow trail as it wound deeper and deeper in a range of jade peaks.

The only thing that was nice, was there seemed to be no danger. Even while Jaleal was scouting ahead using his magic and fast traveling through the trees he never saw so much as a bear. There were no people to speak of, certainly no Tarthuns, and there were no wild beasts or monsters. Still, Jaleal mentioned a time or two that he might die of boredom, or his feet might fall off from the endless walking. Erik didn’t necessarily disagree with him, but something inside the young champion compelled him to keep moving along the trail. It was as if something within him constrained him to believe that at the end of the trail he would at last find the Immortal Mystic and get the answers he had sought for so long.

They walked for the rest of the day, pitching camp right on the trail where they were when the darkness set in. Jaleal created a small camp fire to help stave off the cold mountain air while Erik divvied up the berries in his pouch. They hadn’t seen a rabbit that day, so there would be no meat. Jaleal disappeared as soon as the fire was good and strong, only to reappear with a few mushrooms.

“Not quite the same as rabbit,” he said as he grabbed his waterskin to rinse off the white mushrooms. “Still, these aren’t the poisonous kind, and it will taste different from the berries and give us something we can chew a bit.”

“Thanks,” Erik offered. Jaleal nodded as he finished cleaning the mushrooms. He then speared one over a thin stick he pulled from a nearby tree and held it out above the fire.

“I like mine with a bit of char,” he explained.

“Sounds good,” Erik replied. Erik went out and snapped a stick off of a fallen branch and peeled the bark off. Then he fashioned a point on the end and joined Jaleal roasting mushrooms over the fire.

“I wonder what Lepkin is doing right now,” Erik said as he watched the flames dance up and swipe at his mushroom.

“Probably busy bashing in orc heads,” Jaleal said with a shrug. “That’s where I should be. I should be throwing my spear and showing those brutes what gnomes are all about.”

Erik shifted his eyes toward Jaleal, but didn’t quite look at his companion. “I’m sorry you are stuck out here with me,” he said. “And I am sorry that Allun Rha kicked you out of his tower when we were there.” Erik realized then that he hadn’t ever said that before, despite it having happened more than a month ago. “I guess I could have said that a long time ago.”

Jaleal pulled his mushroom back and squeezed the sides before casting a sidelong glance at Erik. “You aren’t the one who zapped me out of there, so I don’t see why you are apologizing.”

Erik shrugged. “You have done a lot for me,” he said. “Even when I was stuck in Lepkin’s body you were by my side. If it wasn’t for you…” Erik’s words faded on a mountain breeze. He didn’t like to think what might have happened in the dragon’s lair had Jaleal not been there to help him. “It was foolish to go after Tu’luh alone.”

“Bah,” Jaleal grumbled. “Heroes come in all sizes, you did what needed to be done. Why, if we hadn’t left, we might be fighting the orcs
and
a dragon at Ten Forts. How do you think we would do in that scenario? At least in Demaverung we had the dragon boxed in, and we got to him before he could heal. It was the right move.”

Erik didn’t respond. He just rotated his mushroom when he saw the bottom turning a golden brown color.

“Besides,” Jaleal continued. “The dragon is dead, so there is no need to reevaluate the decision now.”

“Allun Rha said Tu’luh would rise again,” Erik said.

Jaleal let his mushroom dip down to where it touched the burning log before he snapped it back up. He pulled the stick from the fire and sat with a silly expression across his face.

“I guess I should have mentioned that earlier too,” Erik offered with a sheepish grin.

Jaleal nodded slowly. “So, we are out here wandering into nowhere while the dragon is supposed to come back to life? Did the wizard say how or when?”

Erik shrugged and shook his head. He pulled the mushroom back and broke the top off to take a bite. “Didn’t give me the details.”

“Did you think to ask?” Jaleal pressed.

Erik set the mushroom down. “It wasn’t exactly a conversation so much as a lecture with tests.” Jaleal cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on Erik, but the young champion didn’t meet Jaleal’s gaze. “Sorry,” Erik said. He couldn’t think of what else to add. Speaking with Allun Rha had not been overly pleasant. Not to mention how he had felt during that strange test the wizard had imposed upon him. Erik offered the rest of his mushroom to Jaleal and then scooted away from the fire.

The young boy laid back and tucked his arms under his neck as he gazed up to the stars. A few seconds later he rolled to his side and closed his eyes to get some sleep.

“I’d do it again,” Jaleal said after some time.

Erik opened his eyes and pushed up to prop himself on his elbow so he could crane his neck around to look at the gnome. Jaleal plopped the last mushroom in his mouth, chewed it up and swallowed it. Then he looked right at Erik and winked.

“Even with all of that, I would still be at your side. You’re different, Erik. You are not anything like the humans I was told about. I knew that the first time I saw you. It isn’t just your courage and determination either. There is something else, something that makes others want to follow you, and protect you. I am with you to the end, my friend.”

Erik smiled. He tried to think of something appropriate to say, but the words jumbled in his mind. The moment passed and Jaleal moved back against a nearby pine. He placed his hand out on the tree and then promptly went to sleep.

Erik laid back down and closed his eyes.

He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that left him fully refreshed by the time the sun lightened the sky with its first rays.

The two broke camp in a couple of minutes and resumed their journey. They walked for hours, stopping briefly at a quickly running brook to drink and refill their waterskins. Then they continued up a steep incline that forced them both to lean forward toward the mountain to avoid falling over backwards and tumbling down the slope. The trees grew thick in this part, so thick in fact that the trail was slightly narrower than Erik’s shoulders. At some places he had to twist his upper body sideways to fit between the heavily scented pines.

Eventually the trail levelled out again and they found themselves skirting around the edge of a rocky cliff face. They had a few feet of grassy trail to walk upon, but then the mountain fell away at the edge of the trail. There was a deep chasm that descended so far down neither of them could see the bottom. They continued along that trail for hours, until the early evening.

Then, as they rounded the north face of the rocky cliff something sparkled off in the distance. It was hard to see at first, as the sunlight reflected off of it so brightly that they couldn’t see what it was. However, the closer they got to it, the easier it became to see.

A large spire was the first shape Erik made out clearly. It was green, with golden trim shining in the sunlight. If Erik had been awestruck by how the white marble tower sparkled in the light before, it now seemed a dull stone by comparison to the grand structure before him. As the trail took them up over another small incline and then broke out into a wide plateau they both stood and stared at the magnificent castle of green glass before them. There were no walls around the structure, but the castle itself rose up into the sky at least fifty feet. The tops of the pointed towers ascended many stories higher still, with golden crests that reflected the sunlight with a fiery intensity Erik had never seen before.

“If ever I imagined a palace for the Immortal Mystic, this would be it,” Jaleal commented.

Erik nodded his agreement. “It is beautiful,” he said.

The two of them made their way to the castle and stopped only when they reached the grand double doors with hinges made of solid gold. A long handle bar was affixed vertically to each door and was made of the same, bright yellow gold as the hinges. However, the gold is not what caught Erik’s attention the most. Instead he was mesmerized by the glass itself. It wasn’t green at all, as he had thought from a distance. It was perfectly clear. Each pane was so thick, however, that the glass appeared green if looked at from certain angles.

“Magnificent,” Jaleal said. “I have never thought it possible to refine glass to this degree.” The gnome reached up to touch it with his pointer finger, but stopped just short of pressing his skin to the glass. “I wonder who cleans the smudges off,” he commented as he cast Erik a wry grin

Erik smiled and shrugged. “Maybe he’ll give that job to you.”

Jaleal scoffed. He pulled his hand away from the glass and took a step backward from the structure. “Do we knock?”

Erik then saw movement through the glass. He craned his head around the large handlebar and saw a figure approaching them. “I think they know we are here.”

The doors opened inward. A tall, slender man with a very long white beard approached them. His eyes shone as gold as the hinges in the doors, and his skin was heavily wrinkled and leathery. He smiled gently, but despite how far his lips stretched across his face they did not part to reveal the man’s teeth. Each hand was hidden into the opposite sleeve of a grand silver robe. The robe itself was so long that the man’s feet were not visible as he walked.

“I am Erik Lokton,” the young champion said. “Allun Rha sent me here to speak with the Immortal Mystic.”

The bearded man continued to smile, but didn’t say anything. His sparkling eyes moved to look at Jaleal.

“This is my companion and friend, Jaleal,” Erik said.

Jaleal stood uncharacteristically quiet.

Erik fidgeted slightly with his toes on his right foot. “Have we come to the right place?”

The man returned his gaze to Erik. “This is the right place,” he said in a soft, yet deep voice. The voice was much deeper than Erik had expected given the man’s size. “The question is whether you are the right champion.”

Erik stiffened and his mouth opened. He glanced to Jaleal and then back to the man in white. “I am the Champion of Truth,” he said. He tried to sound assertive and confident, but his voice cracked with the last word and left Erik with a slightly reddened face.

The bearded man looked at him intently.

Erik thought now that given his experience with Allun Rha, he should call up his power. He gathered what focus he could and then presented the man with the question he was dying to know the answer to. “Are you the Immortal Mystic?”

The bearded man smiled wide now, revealing brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth. “That I am, young Erik.” His voice echoed around them. “Come in, we have much to discuss, and much more to do.”

Erik started in after the bearded man, but stopped when Jaleal nudged Erik in the side. Erik called out, “Can my friend come in as well?”

The Immortal Mystic turned slowly and regarded Jaleal for a moment. The gnome who carries the shining spear, Aeolbani, and has helped to slay Tu’luh the Red, is most certainly welcome in the Hall of the Mystics.”

Erik noticed Jaleal’s chest puff up a bit and smiled as the gnome strolled into the palace without hesitation. The young champion followed him inside. As they passed beyond the doorway, the doors swung shut, creating a vibration through the hallway that Erik could feel within his chest.