The Paladins (6 page)

Rejik stood up and thrust his narrow face toward the other fiend. Tm tired from all the killing, today, but I still have the energy to throttle you, berk. But go! Go through the gate and see if you can find the bloodforge before I return to General Raachaak and make my report. We’ll see who ascends and who wriggles under a chasme’s stinger.”

“Fool! We have more power than we can imagine at our wingtips, and you want to run home to whine to a balor! So be it! Let us see who’ll be a molting lackey, and who will command the bloodforge. I’m not afraid!”

“Have fun on the other side, fighting those sentinels,” sneered Rejik. “Remember how tough the primes we encountered down here were? Ha!”

Shaakat paused, recalling the wounds he had suffered in this curious subterranean labyrinth, at the hands of humans, elves, and dwarves in armor. Once or twice, he admitted reluctantly, they had had to flee the battle, although they came that close to winning those fights.

“Exactly,” chimed in Rejik, reading his thoughts. “Do you think we can simply step through this gate and take our prize? We may well not be enough. Remember what Raachaak said? Others have failed before us.”

Shaakat gazed up at the portal, then craned his scrawny neck around to look over his feathery black shoulder, at the vast complex behind them. “I have an idea,” he thought. “It will require the both of us to succeed, but it cannot fail. Rejik, will you ascend, and never fear Raachaak again, upon a bold stroke? Will you join with me… for now?”

Rejik stared at the other vrock, pondering. He hissed ruefully, “First, tell me your plan.”

A young warrior in the best equipment ever made is still a young warrior.

“Noph, you aren’t planning to use that boat hook, are you?” Jacob asked sharply. Noph had been watching a pair of glowing eyes under the water beside the boat for several heartbeats. He’d thought of trying to hook whatever the eyes were—at least it was a distraction from all that spooky laughter in the darkness—but

Jacob’s tone dissuaded him.

“Of course not,” he answered. “I was just securing the hook. Has anyone else looked over the side of the boat lately?”

“Yes, but don’t worry about it. We’re at the end of the line.”

Ahead, the cave ceiling narrowed, ending their boat ride. Aleena moved the tiller to angle toward a cave mouth to the side, which led up and out of sight. Harloon hopped into the water and dragged the boat to the shore. Noph gasped and leaned over the side, watching for the eyes in the river.

“Sdop dhere,” a voice boomed.

“Doll, you musd pay a doll,” another voice shouted.

“Dheir lighds so brighd,” bawled another.

“Shud up, ‘ficial doll keepers can’d be bodhered by lighds,” scolded a fourth voice.

The party quickly drew their weapons and leaped to the shore. Three immense creatures with two heads apiece stepped out of the cave shaft—ettins! Each of the monsters carried a stone club the size of a man in each hand. They wrapped themselves sloppily in dark brown cave bear hides, covered in a thick layer of crusty dirt. Their wild, wiry hair grew long and unkempt, and then-large teeth thrust at odd angles from their puffy red mouths. With their large, watery eyes and upturned, piggish snouts, they resembled freakish ores.

“We no fighd widh you if you pay doll,” the right head of the middle ettin claimed. “We keep dhis area clear of monsders. We ged dolls for dhis.”

“We led everyone pass who pays doll,” said the other head, resting its two clubs on the ground. “You have sheep or caddie?”

“Aleena could blast these brutes,” suggested Noph, casting a worshipful look at the enchantress. “That would send them running.”

“Wait,” interrupted Miltiades, pushing Noph back with his warhammer. “These very intelligent creatures are attempting to provide a service. I suggest we deal honestly with them and be on our way.”

The ettins smiled at the compliment, displaying their rotting teeth.

“Dhad’s righd,” said the first one. “We very indel… imbled… inbred..

“Smard,” supplied its other head.

“Righd. Smard.”

“If they perform a useful service, they have every right to expect a fee,” said Kern.

“Looks like dhey don’d have caddie,” remarked the left head of the ettin on the right.

“Or sheep,” added the other head.

“Could we make dhem bring sheep back?” asked the left head of the last one.

“Nod likely,” answered the right side, sadly.

“Now what?” asked Aleena.

“Look,” interrupted Noph, “I know all about ettins; there are lots of stories about them in Waterdeep. They’re big, but they’re stupid. We give ‘em a little light show and they’ll back right down.”

“Sdupid!” cried the ettins.

“If dhey god no sheep, dhen dhey looks like lunch do me,” the leader’s left head snarled.

The middle ettin reached behind its back and produced a coil of clean, silky rope. Its gigantic hand clamped upon one end of the hemp while it flung the rest toward the heroes. The loops unfurled gracefully as the rope sailed through the air, and a circle opened perfectly to settle over Kern and Miltiades. With a distressing crunch, the rope yanked them together. The paladins fell to the ground, and coil upon coil of the rope lengthened and wrapped around them.

The three ettins brandished their clubs and roared as they closed in to fight the rest of the party. Aleena pointed her finger and uttered a sharp command, and streaks of light shot from her fingertips, striking the giants. She directed three of the shafts at the leader, which howled in pain and tumbled to the ground, letting go of the rope; neither of the other ettins took notice of the jolt to their bodies. They screamed in anger and came on harder.

Able and Harloon moved to intercept them with their warhammers while Jacob drew his sword and Trandon brought his staff to bear, moving in upon the shins and knees of the ettins. Noph grabbed for his boot knife while stumbling back from the giants’ charge. He tripped and rolled into the river with a loud splash, only to emerge a moment later, glancing over his shoulder for the glowing eyes.

Aleena waved her hands, and a hypnotic swirl of lights danced in the air. The giants’ dull eyes followed the lights even as they pressed the attack. One swung at Harloon, only to feel Abie’s crushing blow at the back of its knee. The wounded ettin bawled in rage and spun around, opening its back to the swordsman, who landed another biting attack. The second ettin struggled against Jacob and Trandon. That left the third one, the leader, which climbed unsteadily to its feet, still smoking from Aleena’s first attack. Noph waited for the tower of muscle and sinew to stand fully erect, then charged with his knife, aiming for the heel.

“Noph, duck!” screamed Harloon, breaking off his attack. He pushed the young man out of the way, as the ettin made a vicious swipe with its club. There was a sickening crack and Harloon’s body fell twitching to the ground. Noph hit the dirt and rolled between the feet of the ettin. He carved a gash in the monster’s ankle, came to his feet, and spun about with a smile on his face, until he saw Harloon lying close by.

“Harl!” he screamed, heedless of the monster standing over him, its club raised to smash in his head. The ettin bellowed in triumph as it waved both clubs aloft, but five brilliant missiles drilled into its chest, boring a hole straight through. It stood there for another moment, looking down at the gap in its body, then collapsed on top of Noph. He grunted under the weight and struggled to push the horrible-smelling body off of him.

“Free us from this Tyr-blasted rope!” ordered Miltiades, who still lay on the ground, bound with Kern. Jacob and Aleena rushed to unwrap them while Able and Trandon stood behind. With a few tugs on the loose end, the coils relaxed and tangled normally about their legs. The leaders rose to their feet but fell silent at the sound of sobbing behind them. Slowly, they turned to behold Noph, cradling Harloon’s bloodied head and shoulders in bis lap.

Somewhere in the caves beyond, distant laughter mocked the fallen hero.

“What have I done?” Noph wept, rocking his silent friend, back and forth. The warrior’s eyes stared lifelessly. “He saved me. I would have died if he hadn’t pushed me down.” Tears streamed down his face. “Does he have parents? Someone will have to tell them. I should go back now… to tell them, I mean. No one should die in the darkness like this. Can I take him up and bury him in the sun? We can’t just leave him here. What are we going to do? What am I going…”

“Noph, you’re babbling,” said Trandon. “Get up!”

Miltiades knelt down next to Noph and shut Harloon’s lids. “He died well, Freeman Kastonoph, but we must move on.”

Noph looked up at the paladin, shocked. “And just leave him here?”

“Indeed. The quest must continue.”

The boy began to sob through his words. “Harl worshiped you, as well as Tyr! He gave his—his life for me and—and you expect me to walk away from him—leave him here? Is that some kind of—of honor?”

Miltiades stood erect and looked down severely upon Noph. “Foolish youngling, we have all lost friends— friends whom we have known for years. If Harloon died saving you, honor him by finishing what he started.”

“But we can’t just leave him here!” protested Noph. “We can’t!”

“There will be time to mourn him when the quest is completed,” said Kern. “Come on, Noph. Be strong.”

“I don’t want to be strong! My friend is dead!”

“I have an idea,” Aleena intervened. She knelt next to Noph and stroked his hair. “I have an idea, Noph. Let’s put him in the boat, set it on fire, and send it down the river. He would have liked that.”

Noph looked into her eyes with a mixture of adoration and tears but did not speak.

“Freeman Kastonoph, he saved your life,” said Miltiades. “If you honor Harloon, then justify his death by completing his quest.”

Kern and Aleena helped Noph up. “After we finish rescuing Lady Eidola, I’ll introduce you to Harloon’s parents,” the red-haired paladin offered. “They’re merchant folk. You’ll like them.”

Able delivered a prayer for Harloon’s quick passage to the Seven Heavens while the paladins chanted. Trandon and Jacob poured oil over the boat. Aleena drew a candle from her pack, anchored it in the floor of the boat, surrounded by the black oil, and carefully lit it. They launched the craft with Harloon resting at the stern, one hand on the tiller, the other on his warhammer. Aleena cast a spell as it drifted away, and the tiny flame of the candle flared brightly, touching off the oil. With a whoosh, flames swept over the vessel and its noble occupant.

Noph stood silently gazing at the flames. How could the paladins claim to be men of goodness and light, and abandon their fallen? he wondered. They didn’t deserve Harloon, who would never let them down!

When the light of the bier had disappeared around the bend, Noph looked down at his feet and spied the coil of rope, barely noticing that it had magically wound itself up.

“Can I have this—to keep in memory of Harloon?”

Aleena waved her hand over the rope. “I detect no harmful energies,” she said. “If no one minds, I think it’d be fine for you to keep it.” The rest nodded assent.

Jacob and Trandon moved to the point position as the party prepared to move into the caves of Undermountain with only a fragment of map to show the way. Miltiades walked next to Noph.

“Freeman Kastonoph, you fought passably well in your first combat. I salute your courage. However, we are likely to be tested again before we complete our quest, and more may die. We will not have time to treat others as we did Harloon. Grieving is appropriate, but we must mourn after the quest is completed.”

“Yes, sir.” Pretentious bastard!

“Let’s get moving,” said Kern. “The princess awaits.”

“She’s not a princess!” insisted Aleena.

In the darkness ahead, the laughter burst forth again.

Interlude 4

When you lose control of the situation, just keep lashing out until you feel important again.

“Rejik, keep those manes under control!” “I can’t help it. The reflections keep trying to attack each other.”

The vrocks stood between two massive groups of lesser fiends, all jostling roughly amongst themselves; inarticulate obscenities echoed through the corridors around them. Hundreds of manes—bloated little creatures with pointed ears and noses, and spindly stalks of wiry hair growing from the backs of their heads— spread out of sight, filling the corridors of Undermountain with a horrendous din. Tiny slugs and leeches crawled under their colorless, fatty folds of skin as they jabbered incoherently and scratched at each other. Their pale, bulbous eyes seeped with yellowish, poisonous pus, which they wiped on their gnarled claws while they quibbled. To the other side stood dozens of brutish barlgura, looking like gigantic orangutans with savage lower fangs, surveying the army around them and shaking their heads balefully. They seemed to shimmer and blend with the stone walls beside them, as though they would disappear if they remained still.

Shaakat and Rejik cackled at their own ingenuity. The power required to beckon and command so many denizens of their cruel, chaotic native plane would have required weeks of exhausting work, but in Undermountain thanks to the power of a magical mirror they had found, they only needed to perform a summoning once for each type, lowly mane and sturdy barlgura. The floor-length glass lay embedded within the stone wall of a rough cavern, not far from the gate to the Utter East. Unadorned by any frame and unremarkable until the vrocks wandered within its radius of reflection, the device conjured perfect copies of the fiendish beings summoned by the vrocks. Now, instead of expending energy to muster troops, they labored magically to keep them from attacking everything in sight, especially each other.

“If the bloodforge can create obedient soldiers like the mirror creates berserk fiends, nothing can stop us,” thought Rejik.

“Now you think like a true tanar’ri,” returned Shaakat. “Now General Raachaak’ll have to deal with us! Come! Let us lead these miserable troops to glory and power.”

The vrocks flexed their telepathic powers. The manes squealed in protest, like a host of butchered pigs, but they turned and crowded after the vulturelike master tanar’ri, pushing and shoving. The barlgura frowned at the irresistible orders and grouchily complied, blending in with the screaming horde. In a river of shrill chaos, the fiends rushed toward the gate to the Utter East. They flowed into the terminal cavern and pooled around the two evil leaders, who ascended the platform and stood before the gleaming aperture. For a moment, the masses fell silent, instinctively bracing for a surprise attack.