Hemlock And The Wizard Tower (Book 1) (28 page)

"Train us as well, and we’ll take care of it, since we started this," said Hemlock, standing.

"Please, do not break the circle," said Tored.

Hemlock took her seat under his calm gaze. 

Tored then turned to Taros Ranvok. "I cannot do this – it would be against your father’s orders."

Taros Ranvok trembled though he spoke calmly, "Bradrun was deemed high among us and was a great friend to all.  He does not deserve to meet his end at the hands of the Witch.  These people are responsible for his death because they roused the Mathi.  I am not saying to train us to fight it, which my father has forbidden.  I am saying to train them to fight and kill it.  They can free Bradrun’s spirit.  They have volunteered to do so."

Tored nodded as Taros Ranvok completed his plea.  "You are wise beyond your years, young Taros Ranvok.  There is an opening in your father’s edict and also in the law, which could be interpreted to allow such training to occur without violating the letter of the law.  Yet I feel that such training might violate the spirit of his word, if not the letter."

Taros Ranvok responded after a few moments, sounding even more resolute. "Tored, long have you served at my Father’s side and now you serve with me and you honor me by doing so.  Never have I used my station to ask you to perform any task or deed.  But, on this day, and under these circumstances, I must order you to train these outlanders in our ways.  They survived the attack of the Mathi and made it to this cave.  They clearly have strength.  With the help of your training and technique, I believe that they will kill the Mathi.  Bradrun was my friend and I am ordering you to train these warriors and to go with us and lead them to the Mathi."

Hemlock glanced at Safreon and was a little taken aback to see that he looked bewildered.  Gwineval appeared to be brooding.  Hemlock hoped that Tored would concede and allow them to partially make up for causing the death of Bradrun.  She knew that this was a distraction from their goal of returning to the City that they probably didn’t need and couldn’t afford, but a man had died because of them.

"Taros Ranvok, have you considered how the Witch might react if one of her Mathi were slain?" asked Tored after a long, awkward silence.

"They are outlanders.  If the Witch presses the matter, then we will tell her that it was aroused and then slain by them.  It is just." The young warrior responded.

"Assuming that there is even a parlay, the Witch will likely guess at our involvement," Tored pointed out.

"The Witch’s old laws are unjust and they need to change.  I do not fear her any longer.  I agree with your views, Tored, that the Witch only gets stronger the longer she is left alone.  I do not fear acting against her in this indirect way, as it does not violate the laws or my father’s decrees."

"Your father will think ill of this decision on both of our parts."

"Yet he will understand that Bradrun did not deserve his fate and also he will know that the outlanders are making up for their role in these events."

Upon hearing these remarks, Gwineval stood and started to make a stern comment, but Safreon quickly rose and grasped him by the shoulder and guided him back into his seat.

When all was again still, Tored addressed the four: "Do you agree to this course of action: to receive training in our ways of demon slaying and to join us in tracking and slaying the Mathi?  Due to the ancient pacts between the Witch and our forefathers, we will not be able to directly help you in this battle."

Hemlock looked to Safreon and nodded. 

"We agree," said Safreon simply, with a sigh of resignation.

"Safreon," hissed Gwineval, "this is not our fight.  We must return to the City."

"Gwineval, we have accidentally caused the death of their warrior and now he faces a fate worse than death.  How can we not act?" said Safreon.

"But we did so in ignorance, and helping them now and diverting from our path may prevent us from returning to the City before Falignus finds us," responded Gwineval.

"Would you compromise your values to return to the City, Gwineval?"

"Isn’t our ultimate cause greater than ourselves?"

"And what cause is that?  I believe that I live for a cause, but I have not seen you commit to any cause outside of those that are directed from within that Wizard Tower," Safreon replied.

Hemlock noted with satisfaction that this statement silenced Gwineval.

"We agree," repeated Safreon.

The four outlanders and the Tanna Varrans departed from the circle and proceeded farther into the caverns, which the group learned extended far across the land and offered the quickest and safest form of travel below the hilly, haunted terrain of the upper land.

Hemlock inquired about the Tanna Varran ability to fly, but was told that they could only fly for short distances and had limited capability for magical recharge away from the Town.

Later that day, Tored led the group into a wide cavern of singular beauty.  Glowing purple and pink crystalline deposits glistened in the chamber in the form of stalactites and stalagmites. Crystals were also embedded in rich deposits in the floor and ceiling of the cavern.

As
Hemlock appreciated the beautiful environment around her, she noticed something moving on the floor, far into the chamber.

Seeming to anticipate her surprise, Taros Ranvok dropped back and spoke to her loudly enough that Safreon and Gwineval were sure to also hear him.

"There are Grimoi in this room – lost souls.  Down here, they are slow and easy to evade, but do not meet their gaze for too long lest they bewitch you."

"Why are they down here?" asked Hemlock.

"They are drawn to the beauty of the gems.  And they are weak and cannot ascend back to the surface to attempt to escape this realm.  They are tired and weak, but still dangerous in their hate."

Hemlock took a closer look at the slow creatures, which littered the central portion of the chamber through which they now walked.  The creatures turned toward the Tanna Varrans and the four of them.

Hemlock picked up Merit as the pace quickened.

A few of the Grimoi seemed to focus on Hemlock as she passed near their shimmering, pale forms, inchoate as they crawled and stretched across the floor toward her.  They were vaguely humanoid figures, but seemed dreamlike and insubstantial. 

"They have such baleful eyes," Hemlock whispered to herself.

Suddenly Hemlock noticed that she had not evaded the nearest Grimoi and was but a few footsteps from its grasp.  She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned with a start to see Taros Ranvok beside her.

"Do not look into their eyes," he repeated, and from that point onward she was careful not to.

She saw that a Tanna Varran had paired off with each of her band and were similarly guiding Safreon and Gwineval.

Once again, Hemlock berated herself for underestimating the power of the ghosts of the Witch Crags and nearly being ensnared by them.  She considered how alien the magic of this realm seemed and how sheltered that she had been living in the familiar confines of the Warrens and the City.  She recalled tales of her youth and her life before she came to the City, but her mind quickly returned to her present peril.

After a time, the travelers left the gem filled cavern filled with the strange Grimoi behind them, and entered a tighter complex of labyrinthine and interlocking cave passages.  At times they had to crawl through barely man-sized openings, while at other times they could walk up to five abreast.

As they walked, the Tanna Varrans instructed the three Outlander fighters in their ways of battle. 

They stopped to camp and Hemlock and Safreon were covered in blue chalk, which Tored explained provided magical resistance to detection by the dead and also protection from fear of the dead.  Gwineval glared at Taros Ranvok as he approached with the chalk, and Taros Ranvok paused to consider the lizard–man for a moment before moving on to other tasks without attempting to apply it. 

Hemlock learned that Tanna Varran weapons were enchanted with intricate spells which they cast with chanted words.  Hemlock, using her ability to attune to magic, saw the spell’s patterns as intricate, yet uniform in focus; she visualized them appearing like ornate and stylized arrows.  The Tanna Varran magic existed in an apparent harmony with nature and seemed especially focused on the purity of the birth-death cycle and the natural circle of life which returned every being back to nature.

The group slept for several hours under the watch of Tanna Varran guards.  Gwineval still seemed to mistrust the unusual guides, but seemed to fall asleep quickly once he lay down.  At least, Hemlock assumed that he slept, for when she glanced over at him his lidless eyes stared back at her, though without recognition.

After another full day of travel, they reached an exit to the surface.

”We will track the Mathi overland from this point,” stated Tored.

”Won’t the Mathi just fly directly to the Witch’s Ziggurat?” Hemlock asked. 

“It would cost the Mathi a great deal of power to do that. It will fly from hilltop to hilltop, engorging itself on revitalizing souls at each stop and then resting for a time.  Demons are always fighting amongst themselves, and even a creature of great power, like the Mathi, can’t risk entering into the Ziggurat in a state of fatigue without risking assassination by a rival spirit,” Tored said.

Over the next few hours, the group made their way through lightly wooded terrain set amongst distant hilltops.

Hemlock was relieved to be above ground again, although the outdoor landscape of the Witch Crags still felt odd to her after all of her years living in the City.

As they walked along a ridgeline in the morning daylight, they saw a shallow, bowl-like clearing below them within which a large group of animals was gathered.  The two-legged beasts were covered in a light blue fur and grazed on bountiful patches of grass.  Though their bodies were thick and looked much heavier than a man, they had powerful feathered wings on their backs.  Their legs were comparatively thin and bent forward at the knee.  Their long necks ended in small, horse–like heads and their mouths were wide.  They chewed slowly from side to side, devouring great quantities of tall grasses and weeds.

"What a herd. What are they, Tored?" Safreon asked the native Warrior with whom he seemed to be developing a noticeable camaraderie.

"We call them Bosan, which means the Fathers of the Hills in our tongue.  They are great beasts and their spirits resist the evil that plagues our lands.  We hunt them and use their bodies for many things.  We always mourn their sacrifice when they are slain in order to fill our bellies and supply our craftsmen.  Watch as our warriors hunt one of the old fathers.  His feathers, bones and sinew will be used to make your battle wings."

Hemlock watched as four hunters fanned out from the Tanna Varran band and approached the herd in groups of two.  When they reached a distance of about fifty yards, they rose and bellowed a great singing call into the clearing.  The herd of Bosan scattered and took to clumsy and lumbering flight.

In a flash, the Tanna Varran hunters' wings deployed and they sailed into the air in pursuit.  They overtook one of the Bosan, and its torso was struck and pierced with their spears.  It cried out once and fell with a crash into a small copse of trees.  The Hunters descended on the kill as the rest of the band made its way down to the scene to assist in harvesting the meat, feathers, and bones of the beast.  Almost every part was put to some use or stored. 

When the band made to depart, Hemlock noticed that very little of the carcass remained.

In the next few hours, they picked up the trail of the Mathi. 

Tored gave them their final training in the use of the Tanna Varran wings: the strangely crafted backpacks which were familiar to Hemlock since she had used one to penetrate the defenses of the Wizard Tower.  Gwineval and Safreon struggled with their use at first, but soon they were able to launch themselves from the ground as high as nine hundred feet.  Since they were spell casters, they could replenish the power of their wings on their own, and fly repeatedly or sustain long flights.

Hemlock could not replenish the wings on her own, yet she seemed able to use their innate power very effectively.  Her power of magical affinity allowed her to use the wings almost as effectively as if they were an extension of her own body. 

The Tanna Varrans were amazed when she erupted almost two thousand feet into the air on a single magical charge and then soared back to Earth in complete and expert control.  She knew that if she used the power of the wings wisely, she could fly several times during a battle without a recharge.

Soon after the flight training was complete, the Tanna Varrans prepared to break camp and continue stalking the Mathi.  Hemlock approached Gwineval and Safreon, who were both strapping on their Tanna Varran wings in the manner that was used for portage.  Merit came up behind Hemlock, whose own wings were already appropriately configured for the upcoming hours of walking.

"Miss Hemlock, will you fight soon?"

Hemlock turned to face Merit and replied: "Yes, in all likelihood we will."

"What if you are killed?"

"That won’t happen – we will kill this Mathi and free the spirit of the warrior, Bradrun."