Frostborn: The Eightfold Knife (23 page)

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Authors: Jonathan Moeller

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Frostborn: The Eightfold Knife
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“Staffbearer,” said Rakhaag. “You were a friend to the True People, long ago. What is your counsel? What should we do?”

Calliande took a deep breath. “I do not presume to command you.” 

“But we shall heed your counsel,” said Rakhaag.

“Then my counsel is that you should follow Ridmark,” said Calliande. “If anyone can find a way to free your kin, Ridmark can do it. He has defeated great foes in the past.”

For a long time Rakhaag said nothing, his eyes closed. The other lupivirii had their eyes closed as well. Ridmark suspected they were communicating without speech, using the strange telepathy of their kindred. 

At last Rakhaag’s eyes opened.

“So be it,” said the lupivir alpha. “We will follow you, Ridmark son of Leogrance son of Rience, because the Staffbearer has spoken for you.” 

“Then we shall go into battle together,” said Ridmark, “and meet victory or death as one.” 

“What do you wish us to do?” said Rakhaag.

“For now, travel north with us,” said Ridmark. “We follow the trail of the arachar to Urd Arowyn. But your senses are keener than ours, and I would like your packs to scout around us, to keep watch for any arachar.”

“If they approach, we shall kill them,” said Rakhaag.

“Or wound them, and then question them,” said Ridmark. “The more we know about our foes, the better.”

“Words,” spat Rakhaag. “Mere words. What good are words? Deeds are better.”

“True,” said Ridmark, “but the right words at the right time might save your kin. We had best be on our way. I hope to make at least another ten miles before dark.”

“So be it,” said Rakhaag, and the lupivirii vanished into the trees.

 

###

 

Calliande watched the beastmen depart, and she heard Ridmark let out a long breath.

She looked at him as he wiped sweat from his forehead, despite the chill from the spring day. He had been less certain than he shown.

“Remind me,” said Calliande, “to never gamble with you.”

“Why is that?” said Ridmark.

“Because your face,” said Calliande, “rarely shows anything at all of your thoughts.”

To her surprise, he smiled. “Useful in a negotiation, is it not? And I am surprised you are averse to gambling with me. You’ve done nothing else since we rescued you from the standing stones.”

“I suppose you are right,” said Calliande.

“Thank you,” said Ridmark. “I do not think I could have persuaded Rakhaag on my own.”

“Do you have a plan?” said Calliande. 

“Not yet,” said Ridmark.

She frowned. “Then have I just told Rakhaag to take his kindred to their deaths?”

“They would have died in any event,” said Ridmark, “but I am not that callous. If Rakhaag flees and does nothing, his pack will eventually die out. If we go to Urd Arowyn and fight, perhaps we yet have a chance of freeing both his kin and the villagers of Aranaeus.”

“Then you have a way to succeed?” said Calliande.

“Maybe,” said Ridmark. “I would prefer to avoid facing Agrimnalazur altogether. If we can get the captives away without alerting her, that would be best.”

“A difficult task,” said Calliande.

“Aye,” said Ridmark with a shrug, “but all things worth doing are difficult, all they not?”

Chapter 14 - Urd Arowyn

Four days later, they came to the foothills of the mountains, and Ridmark Arban looked upon the walls of Urd Arowyn.

Little wonder the lupivirii feared the place. 

Ridmark had rarely seen a stronger fortress.

A flat-topped foothill rose at the edge of one of the mountains, its crest encircled by a white stone wall like a rampart made of gleaming bones. With the wall Ridmark saw the crumbling shapes of dark elven towers, constructed with strange, alien angles. A massive round tower, at least a hundred and fifty feet tall, rose from the heart of the ruins. A small culvert had been built in the base of the wall, and a waterfall fell in a brilliant white spray down two hundred feet of cliffs. Urd Arowyn had its own supply of water, and space enough within the walls to grow crops to support Agrimnalazur’s slaves. The fortress blocked off a narrow meadow climbing the side of the mountain, offering even more space for crops and herds. 

And Ridmark saw green-skinned figures in armor patrolling the outer wall and standing watch over the ruined gates.

Arachar orcs.

“Well,” murmured Caius, “getting in there is going to be something of a challenge.”

Ridmark nodded.  

They stood concealed in the trees on the far side of the valley, the waterfall’s stream flowing between them and the dark elven ruin. Ridmark wanted to move closer for a better look, but he dared not. Too much movement, and the guards might notice him. 

Calliande, Kharlacht, and Caius stood at his left, Gavin and Rosanna at stood at his right, Father Martel behind them. Rosanna gazed at the walls with wide eyes, while Gavin’s expression was hard. Ridmark saw Gavin reach for her hand and stop himself. 

“I think they’re building something on the walls,” said Caius, squinting.

“Siege engines, it looks like,” said Ridmark. “Ballistae and catapults. In case any passing orcs or kobolds decided to raid.”

Caius snorted. “Only foolish raiders would challenge the stronghold of an urdmordar.”

“Yes, like us,” said Ridmark. 

He knew the villagers of Aranaeus were within the walls of Urd Arowyn. The trail led right to the gates of the ruin. They had found a score of dead villagers scattered over the last few days. They had been very old or very young, unable to survive the rigors of a long journey across the wild.

So the arachar had left them to die.

They would pay for that. If Ridmark could find a way to make them pay.

He turned as Rakhaag glided towards them, moving without sound. For all their size and speed, the lupivirii could move with terrifying silence.

“We have arrived,” said Rakhaag.

“So we have,” said Ridmark.

“The scent goes right to Urd Arowyn, just as you claimed,” said Rakhaag. “Yet there is no sign of my kin. Where are they?”

“Likely within the walls,” said Ridmark. “I suspect your females and young are harder to control than orcish and human slaves. Most likely Agrimnalazur put them into the death sleep and secured them within her larder.”

“Then why do I not smell them?” said Rakhaag. The muscles on his legs and arms thickened, black fur covering more of his pale hide as he started to shift fully into beast form.

Ridmark frowned, and then nodded. “Ah. You think I led you false? You cannot find the trail of your kindred because the arachar took them through the Deeps. There is an entrance to the Deeps below Urd Dagaash, and most likely one below Urd Arowyn as well.”

“Then why did they not take the humans through the caverns?” said Rakhaag.

“Because,” said Ridmark, “the Deeps are cramped and full of dangers. Would you want to herd seven hundred humans through a narrow, dark cave while spitfangs and kobolds and worse things attack?”

Rakhaag considered this. “No. For many reasons.” 

“And if the arachar had moved your females and young through the forest, you would have been able to find them,” said Ridmark. “Instead, they took them into Urd Dagaash and then underground through the Deeps. That’s why you thought they disappeared.” 

It was devilishly clever. And the urdmordar were always diabolically clever. Gothalinzur had come within a hair’s breadth of destroying the village of Victrix before Ridmark had stumbled into her plan ten years ago.

And Agrimnalazur had already destroyed Aranaeus. 

But perhaps it was not too late to save the villagers and Rakhaag’s kin.

“Of the True People,” Ridmark asked Rakhaag, “how many have come at your call?”

“Several packs. Perhaps two hundred total,” said Rakhaag. “They remain out of sight around the valley.” He bared his teeth in the lupivirii equivalent of a smirk. “Not even the eyes of the tainted orcs can spot us. But we will need to act soon. There is not enough game here to support us, and we will need to move on.” 

“We shall,” said Ridmark. “Have your kin keep watch over the valley. If any additional arachar arrive, or if any arachar leave Urd Arowyn, tell me at once.”

“I shall do as you ask,” said Rakhaag, “but only because the Staffbearer wishes it of us.”

He melted back into the trees. 

Ridmark sighed. Rakhaag had never stopped challenging him since they had left Aranaeus, usually two or three times a day. Ridmark could hardly blame him for that. The lupivirii thought in terms of dominance and submission, and the dominant male had to fend off challengers to his position. If he could not, he was no longer fit to be the dominant male, and that was that. 

“I don’t think,” said Gavin, “that he likes you very much.” 

“Like and dislike have nothing to do with it,” said Calliande. “Ridmark forced him to submit when he rescued you. So now Rakhaag will do what Ridmark says. But he will never stop testing Ridmark to see if he is fit to be dominant.”

“There’s a reason,” said Ridmark, “most lupivirii males do not live to reach thirty years. They wind up killing each other in these endless challenges.”

“God gave men and orcs and dwarves rational faculties for a reason,” said Caius, “to help us govern our passions. I fear he chose not to bestow similar faculties upon the lupivirii, though I know not why.”

“Perhaps they have a wisdom we do not see,” said Martel. “The beastmen may kill each other, but they do not lie, cheat, steal, betray, or commit adultery. Too often we use our rational faculties to justify the most grievous evils.”

“I am not sure which would be better,” said Kharlacht, “to live as the beastmen do, or to live as we do and know betrayal.” 

“Perhaps the beastmen did not fall as mankind did,” said Caius, “and learn the knowledge of good and evil.”

“I do not care what they know,” said Rosanna. “I want for us to live in peace in the village, and for the beastmen to live in peace in the woods, and for both of us to leave the other alone.” 

“A noble goal,” said Caius. “Perhaps we shall yet…”

Ridmark ignored them as Caius and Martel launched into another one of their theological discussions. Gavin listened, his head moving back and forth as they talked. Should they live through this, the boy would receive quite an education. But Ridmark’s concerns were more practical. He looked at the cliff below Urd Arowyn’s southern wall, following the white line of the waterfall as it fell to the churning stream. 

At the pile of rocks at the base of the cliff, the water splashing against them.

“You do have a plan,” murmured Calliande, coming to his side.

Ridmark turned his gaze from the waterfall. “Oh?”

“And it has something to do with that waterfall, doesn't it?” said Calliande. 

“I don’t know for certain,” said Ridmark. “I will have to look before I know. But…”

“Ridmark!” said Gavin.

Rakhaag reappeared, loping on all fours. Ridmark lifted his staff, wondering if Rakhaag had decided to challenge him, but the lupivir stopped a few feet away and blurred into his half-human, half-bestial form. 

“What is it?” said Ridmark. 

“Tainted orcs moving through the woods near here,” said Rakhaag. “They left Urd Arowyn, and travel south.”

An idea flashed through Ridmark’s mind. “How many of them?”

“Seven,” said Rakhaag.

“Scouts, I deem,” said Kharlacht. “Likely Agrimnalazur’s minions have abducted slaves from villagers other than Aranaeus. No doubt the purpose of the scouts is to watch for anyone coming to rescue the prisoners.”

“Like us,” said Ridmark. Perhaps they ought to conceal themselves and wait for the scouts to pass. On the other hand, the scouts might present a useful opportunity. “Did they have food?”

“Food?” said Gavin, frowning. “We have enough supplies.”

Ridmark ignored the question. “Could the True People smell if they carried food?”

“They stank of the taint in their blood,” said Rakhaag, “of the foul poison of the spider they drank. They also smelled of wheat and oil and salt and old meat.”

“Jerky and hard bread,” said Ridmark. “Rations, for a long time away from Urd Arowyn.” 

“So if we kill them,” said Kharlacht, “no one may notice for a few days.”

“Precisely,” said Ridmark. “Calliande, Kharlacht, Caius, come with me. We’ll need to deal with these arachar…”

“Sir,” said Gavin, “I would like to come with you, if I may.”

“I would prefer that you watch over Rosanna and Father Martel,” said Ridmark. 

“The beastmen will ensure that no one draws near to them, sir,” said Gavin.

“The whelp speaks truth,” said Rakhaag. “These tainted orcs and their human allies lumber through the woods like cows. A year-old cub could track them with ease.” 

“This is my father’s fault,” said Gavin. “I need…I should do something to make it right. Anything.”

Ridmark started to say that Gavin might get killed, that Ridmark would have to answer to his mother and father.

But Gavin’s mother had been dead for years, and his father had likely tried to have him killed. Would Cornelius have spared Gavin? He wouldn’t have been able to convert Gavin to the worship of Agrimnalazur. Would he have fed his own son to an urdmordar?

There were many ways a man could respond to that kind of betrayal. Most of them weren’t good.

“Very well,” said Ridmark. “Come along.”

 

###

 

Gavin followed the others through the forest, trying to keep his footfalls quiet. 

Rakhaag darted through the trees, moving with fearful speed and silence. Ridmark followed, almost as fast and as silent, the others moving after him. Gavin came last, the arachar orc’s sword in his right hand, a shield taken from one of Sir Paul Tallmane’s men-at-arms on his left arm. He felt bad carrying a shield taken from a dead man. Or, at least, he had felt bad, until Caius had pointed out that the man-at-arms had tried to murder Ridmark in cold blood. 

That made the shield easier to carry. Gavin practiced with it every night as they stopped, both Ridmark and Caius instructing him in the proper use of weapons. 

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