The Tomb of the Dark Paladin (45 page)

Voices drifted softly through the trees as he finally calmed down. Could it be? Carym thanked Zuhr as he moved through the trees into a small glade. The glade consisted of a smattering of large boulders and a small stream where the companions were now tending a small cooking fire. Carym watched them for a moment, happy to see them all alive. It was then that he recalled the gruesome discovery of Kharr's head adorning the body of the undead knight, Hessan, and a knot formed in his stomach.

He took one step toward the camp and stopped, a low growl from drifted down to him from a nearby oak. Slowly he looked up to see the glowing amber eyes of a large panther in the failing light and cursed himself for forgetting there would be sentries. The moment of panic passed, as the cat dropped to the earth and in a faint amber flash, turned into a human warrior wearing the skin of a great cat. The man bowed to Carym, saying nothing, leading him into the clearing.

"Carym!" shouted Gennevera, rushing to embrace him. "I was so worried!" He said nothing for a long moment, enjoying her embrace and the sweet smell of her hair. His knees almost gave out on him then, overwhelmed by emotion and fatigue. Gently he pushed her back, forgetting how distant and cold she had been.

"I have the Tome," he announced. Ederick and Bart approached him, each embracing him and slapping him heartily on the back in congratulations. Carym politely thanked them and sat down on a smaller rock. Hala handed him a flat stone with some cooked meat on it and a few edible roots.

"We have to flee," he said wearily. He was desperately hungry, but he felt like Umester was right behind him.

"You will need your strength, Carym. Eat something," said Hala tenderly. He knew she was right. He had run a long way since he endured the last mental assault from Umester. He ate hungrily, realizing how long it had been since he had eaten anything. The food and the warmth of the fire made him sleepy. He took a drink from a skin of cold stream water and shook his head. There was much to discuss. Carym saw that Ederick had not missed the sword and shield he now carried.

"I saw the Rider's bones. You did well by him, Bart."

"Aye," was all the bard would say, but his injuries told Carym that it had been a hard won fight. 

Carym told the companions briefly what had happened to him in the Tomb of the Dark Paladin and at the Everpool. When he was finished, none seemed very surprised at Zach's turn to darkness. The knight's eyes flashed angrily at the mention of that name. Desertion was tantamount to treachery in his eyes. Zach was now guilty of both.

"While I was in Myrnwell I heard rumors of a phantom killer in Port Obyn. They said this phantom moved like a ghost and carried a powerful dagger, so they did."

Carym just shook his head, mourning the memory of his lifelong friend, saddened at the depth to which he had fallen. "So the Everpool destroyed the Dark Prince's prison and freed him," finished Bart, darkly. "Umester's tale is very old, and very dark. He personally slaughtered tens of thousands of people, so he did."

The revelation that the mentor who had helped them escape the Underllars was Umester stunned the others. To Carym it made complete sense now. The devious immortal needed some way to escape his prison. Locked away inside a magical box in the Temple of Zuhr in Lordsdeep, he set a trap and Zach fell right into it. It seemed Zach had been the right person for that job. 

Ederick told Carym of his fierce battle with wasp dragon riders of the Nashian forces and the Zuharim that had been working with them. He showed Carym the magical helm that had been awarded to him by the Keneerie commander of the Nashian forces, but the knight had been too concerned about evil magic it might possess to use it. Carym, too, was surprised to learn that these Nashians seemed an honorable people. The knight continued his tale, telling of his timely arrival and destroying the remaining oroks that had come with Hessan.

Carym wondered if the Nashians might be swayed by the truth of who Umber really was.

"What do we do now? Where do we go?" asked Gennevera, leaning her head on Carym's shoulder. He was touched by how much she loved him. With a small sigh, he pushed those thoughts from his mind. He needed to keep his mind clear and focus on the problems at hand.

"I was a fool to believe in Mathonry," confided Carym. "A fool."

"Do not blame yourself Carym," said Gennevera, squeezing his hand. "You have endured more than any man should ever endure. Each of us would have likely done the same in your stead."

"You couldn't have known," added the knight. "Umester is one of the most diabolical figures in history, more so than the Dark Paladin. His powers are beyond mortal comprehension."

Carym nodded, understanding the words for the truth that they told. Yet, he felt responsible. The knight was right, though. They could accomplish nothing by bemoaning their ill luck.

"We have to find Bishop Rohan, and quickly," counseled Ederick. "A force of Jaguar Knights sent by Hala's father found us while you were in the tomb. They've driven the Nashians back, but they expect a greater force to return. There are nearly a hundred Jaguar fighters in the forest around us, if anyone or anything gets close we will know with enough time to decide whether to fight or fly."

"My cousin, Delfyd, would do great damage if he got his hands on that book, so he would," Bart said somberly. "There is little time to waste."

Hala looked at Carym and nodded, saying nothing. Carym knew the woman well enough now, had she something to say she would have. He respected the princess; her people respected her and she fought beside them, bled beside them. She was loyal to the cause thwarting Shalthazar, steadfast when so much else had been so chaotic. He smiled and nodded back at her.

"Genn, do you have any suggestions?"

"Ederick is right," she said, standing up and walking behind Carym. "We need to return to the Hand of Zuhr." Genn unstrapped the Tome from Carym's back and held it reverently before her. A tear glistened in here eye as she held it in her hands. "Do you think..." she began, glancing at Carym with eyes full of hope. Carym looked at her questioningly, waiting for her to go on but she said no more.

"Thank you, Princess Hala, for all you and your people have done. It saddens me greatly that so many have fought and died for this cause."

Hala bowed deeply, embarrassing Carym at the show of respect. She seated herself by the fire.

Carym felt warmed by the show of faith. He drew the Sword of the First Paladin and handed it, hilt first, to Ederick. "This is yours now, Sir Ederick. I was not meant to bear this burden." Carym unstrapped the shield from his pack and handed it to the knight as well. Ederick's eyes lit up, he knew exactly what these items were. He held them reverently for a long moment, then bowed low to Carym.

"Carym, it has been my honor to serve with you these long days. I was lost and likely to meet the same doomed fate my former brethren are now rushing to meet. When I met you I knew there was something special about you. I prayed for guidance and knew I was meant to stay with you. Hard as it was to give up my mission to help the fight in Al Zocar, I knew Zuhr had other plans for me."

Carym nodded, not knowing what to say. The knight was reverently holding the sword and shield; he took a few practice swings and a few shield thrusts. The blade was powerful, but the weight of its magic had bogged Carym down. He wasn't meant for such a weapon; he hoped Sir Ederick was.

"I only wish I could have been there to see the First Paladin, to meet him," Ederick said reverently, staring at the blade of the sword. "I've so many questions!"

"He was a bit pressed for time," Carym said with a grin. "He wasn't very polite either." He took a long pull from a water skin. "In the end, he proved the story of his redemption true; were it not for his aid, I would not have escaped with the Tome. He has been freed of his curse, Ederick. He is with Zuhr now." Ederick nodded, then he sheathed the sword and slung the shield over his back.

"These gifts symbolize the power of the office of the First Paladin, not unlike the crown and jewels of a king or emperor. I do not know what Zuhr intends for me to do with these, but for now I will bear them faithfully until his plans become evident."

Carym smiled and was glad to be rid of the powerful weapons. Just holding them taxed Carym's strength beyond his limits. He sat back down and stared into the fire, thinking of Zach. He had been betrayed by his best friend and deceived by the one whom he thought was his mentor. What was Zuhr trying to tell the him through all of this? "Zach," he whispered clenching his fists. "I'll kill you."

"Savor your revenge, Carym, so you should. Nurse it. But don't act upon it yet. Your time will come, as did mine with that Hellspawn, Hessan. We've bigger problems now, so we do. We must warn the free countries of what is to come. An army with Umester as its general will have ghouls, specters, wraiths and demons in its ranks. Nothing will stand against Shalthazar and the Dark Prince, not alone anyway. Our survival will depend on alliances, so it will."

Hala disappeared into the trees while the bard had been speaking, and returned moments later. "My people will know of this soon. They will dispatch runners to Myrnwell, Brythyn and Ayre."

"Perhaps the Steel Empire could be persuaded to join the fight," said the knight.

"Alfheym," said Carym. "That is where Bishop Rohan will go. That is where we shall go."

"Tomorrow," said Hala with finality. "For now, we rest."

"Alfheym," came a soft voice from the shadows. In a flash Ederick's blade was out and the shield was on his arm. Carym never saw it move from his back, it just appeared on his arm. Carym stood too, his bo-tani sticks dancing with flames as his companions spread out and prepared for a fight. Carym could sense Hala's fury, her warriors had been on guard yet an intruder was inexplicably present. Flashes of soft amber light revealed that the Jaguar warriors were also moving in, if a bit late.

"Please," came the voice. "I mean you no harm." The figure of a man in black and red clothing piped and trimmed in scarlet and silver glided from the shadows, a hood concealing his face. He wore a long sword on his hip, and a bulge in his cloak looked very much like a bow to Carym. Then the hood seemed to roll back from the man's head, all of its own accord.

"Morgon!" whispered Carym, he was truly happy to see the red-skinned elf and gave him a warm embrace. Tensions diminished and everyone lowered their weapons. Morgon was a powerful Fyrbold, one of the guardians of the knowledge of the Flame Sigils. Carym had grown to like and trust this elf, even if others found his presence disconcerting. Crimson Elves, or Fire Elves as they were sometimes called, were known to be quick tempered. Nevertheless, everything about Morgon challenged those stereotypes.

"I apologize for the dramatic entrance," he said casually. Then he dropped onto a log by the fire. "Much has happened since our time in Myrnwell.

"Did you find the Tome, Carym?" he asked calmly.

"Aye."

"Is it safe?" Carym nodded in response to the elf's question. "Good."

"Why are you here, Crimson?" asked Gennevera. "Didn't you say you had 'more urgent' matters to attend elsewhere?"

"A very good question, Gennevera. I traveled to Alfheym, in earnest. I had hoped that the elves would see that Carym is the one prophesied to bring the return of the Sigils. However, in typical Elvish fashion," he growled, "my people were bogged down in debate. They could not see the forest for the trees."

"They will not help," Carym said simply.

"They would not, at first. Then I made them see reason, and at least earned safe passage for Bishop Rohan and the Hand of Zuhr."

Carym unconsciously reached toward the place where the stones were hidden. "So, you need to take the Flamestone back to Alfheym?"

"I will not take it from you, yet."

Uncomprehending eyes turned to Carym.

"You had more of those?" asked the bard in amazement.

"I charged Carym with keeping a small package for me a very long time ago, before he met any of you good people. It contains each of the Sigilstones. Truly powerful artifacts that mimic the power of the Everpool in their own individual way. The return of the Flamestone to the people of Alfheym may be what it takes to inspire them to action."

"What more would it take to move your people to fight for this cause?" asked Hala showing more emotion than Carym was used to seeing in her. "Frost Elves pillaging Alfheym?"

"Ah, Princess Hala. It does my heart good to see you again. Is your father well?" She nodded, not willing to divert from the subject. "I do not know. I hope that the king will intercede among the lords once he sees that an alliance is necessary; before war reaches our doorstep. Alas, as you are well aware, such was not always the way of my people," he finished sadly.

"But," he continued more brightly. "I can help you. We will not be easily defeated with the likes of this band!"

"I think I have had enough power, Morgon," he replied, bitterly. "I'll have no more of power or responsibility. I want only to be done with it all," he looked fondly at Gennevera. "I would like very much to go home the moment that my duties are finished."

Morgon nodded, seeing the affection in the man's eyes as he spoke of the woman who watched him. Morgon noticed her Keneerie heritage, but wisely said nothing. Keneerie were fearful of Crimson Elves, having been enslaved by them in centuries past.