Into the Wastelands: Book Four of the Restoration Series (27 page)

Holgar moved out of the way slightly and nodded to Flare.

Stepping forward, Flare resisted the urge to smile. He had thought long and hard on how he wanted this meeting to go, and
so far it was going according to his hopes. He was quite sure he was about to shock the dwarves and he hoped it would be enough to keep things from getting nasty.

Flare whispered a quick magic spell to amplify his words. “My name is Flaranthlas Eldanari. My grandfather is Feilolas, King of the Elves. I am ninth in line to the elven throne.” His words w
ere having the desired affect, b
oth Holgar and Belgil twisted in surprise and even Emlin’s mouth dropped open. Of those he could see, only King Vognar seemed unaffected, perhaps that would change. “My father is Darion, King of Telur.” He paused briefly before adding, “I am his first son.”  This was true but King Darion had never officially acknowledged Flare as his son. The king had adopted him after the battle of Mul-Dune, both to reward Flare and to minimize his feelings of guilt.
The king had hoped that his adoption of Flare would not alarm the Church.

“I am the conqueror of Mul-Dune. I claimed that sword from the catacombs under
Mount
Ogular
.
” He lowered his voice at this point, “I will have that sword back.”

For the briefest of moments, there was silence and then the chamber erupted with conversation. Holgar and Belgil both looked dumbstruck, as did the guards that stood between them and King Vognar. The fat guard, Grom, looked to Emlin for guidance but got no help there. Emlin was still staring at Flare through wide eyes.
Strangely, King Vognar still sat stoically, looking unaffected by Flare’s statements.

It was at that moment that Flare heard it. There was a soft melody that seemed almost too quiet to hear. It sounded like someone humming a low whimsical tune. It sent shivers down his spine and his arms and legs were quickly covered with goose pimples. He had heard it several times before and he thought he knew where it was coming from. Dagan had once told him that one of the divine blades had sung to its owner and he felt that was what was happening now. Ossendar was singing to him.

Without thought of the consequences, he reached out with his spirit and yanked the sword from Emlin’s hands. It flew through the air and Flare snagged it by the hilt.

The sight of Ossendar coming to rest in Flare’s hand was enough to  jar Emlin from his shock. With his eyes still opened wide, he pointed at Flare and shouted, “He’s armed! Kill him!”

There was the unmistakable sound of several
twangs
as several dwarven bowmen loosed arrows from near the archway. The arrows zipped through the air and shattered against an invisible barrier three feet short of where Flare stood.

Smiling, Flare pulled his eyes from Ossendar and looked back towards the archway. The bowman stood there with their mouths hanging open.

The remains of the arrows were little more than small pieces of wood lying crumbled on the floor. They lay at the base of an invisible but solid sorcerer’s shield. Flare had created the shield upon entering the audience chamber. It seems that it was a good idea.

He began steeling himself. The sorcerer’s shield would protect him from arrows and even a guard or two, but if they came at him in numbers the shield wouldn’t last long.

“Stop!” King Vognar’s voice boomed from his position on the elevated throne.
The word cut off the hum of the crowd.

Flare turned to see the dwarven king standing in front of his seat and glaring around the room.

“
I granted him an audience and you try to kill him?”

“My king,” Emlin began, his voice sounding oily. He did not get to finish his sentence.

“Enough,” Vognar shouted in Emlin’s direction, causing the councilor to flinch. “I am king and I rule here. I will make the decisions.”

Emlin took a deep breath and nodded his head. “I did not mean to offend you, my lord.”

Vognar had already turned his attention back to the floor of the audience chamber. “Guards! Seize those dwarves!” He pointed to the
dwarven bowmen.

The guards did not move. They stood there staring dumbly between King Vognar and Emlin.
For just a moment it seemed they would not
follow orders
.

King Vognar slammed his hand down on the arm of his throne. “I said now!” He shouted
and the guards jumped to obey. There was a moment of silence as the bowmen were escorted from
the chamber. “Clear the room!” t
he king said, his voice just loud enough to reach the far corners of the chamber. No one moved for a moment, everyone just stared at the king. The little dwarven king seemed to swell as he sucked in air to explode. The crowd didn’t give him the chance but as one they rose and rushed the exit.

It took several moments for the room to clear, but soon the only occupants of the room were Belgil, Holgar, Flare, Emlin, and King Vognar. No words were
exchanged
as the
hall emptied
. The King and Emlin stared at Flare and Flare just stared right back.

When the room was clear, the King said, “Wait a moment. I’ll come down there.”

Emlin opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then he closed it quickly. The King did not look receptive to any advice at the moment.

The King and the councilor left the podium through a small door in the back and reappeared a moment later on the floor. The King approached with a brisk step, but Emlin followed with a noticeable hesitation.
The hesitation was understandable; even Flare’s two escorts were regarding him with something akin to fear.

Vognar stopped a good ten feet short of Flare.
There was a brief silence as the two group
s
regarded each other.

“So, is it true?” King Vognar asked. “Are you really the one that was prophesied about?”

“One of them,” Flare answered.

“What does that mean?” Emlin asked. “Either you’re the Destroyer or not.”

Flare didn’t get the chance to answer as Vognar spoke quickly. “I think it means that he’s not the Destroyer; he’s the other one.”

Flare’s
hesitated – taken
by
surprise – he
wasn’t aware that others knew of the true meaning of the Kelcer prophecy.

Apparently, Emlin was not aware. “What does that mean?”
t
he councilor asked, looking confused.

Flare ignored Emlin and instead addressed the King. “I am, as you say, the other one.”

Belgil and Holgar held their tongue, despite their obvious confusion; but Emlin did not.

“My King, I do not understand what he’s saying, but you should not listen to him. Retake Ossendar, whatever the cost, and expel him from our kingdom.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” King Vognar responded and Emlin’s eyes widened. Undoubtedly the councilor was not used to be
ing
addressed
like that by the King.

The King turned his attention to Emlin, “Leave us.”

“My king?” Emlin asked, looking astonished.

“Leave us,” the King repeated. His voice left no room for argument.

Councilor Emlin blinked at the King for several moments and then he bowed and left the room. He l
ooked disgruntled the whole way.

The King waited until the door closed behind Emlin and then he looked hard at Flare. “Are you the one?”
h
e asked.

Flare nodded, “I am.
”
It should have been evident enough just by the fact that he carried Ossendar, but he could understand how the king would need more confirmation.

“Forgive me, my King,” Belgil said after a moment, “but I don’t’ understand.”

The King glanced at Belgil and then looked back to Flare. “You know of Kelcer?” Belgil nodded and the King continued, “We have long known that the prophecy speaks of two men. One is evil and the other is not.” Both Belgil and Holgar looked surprised at this but they remained silent. The King took a deep breath, “I always hoped that this day would not come while I yet lived.”

Flare smiled, “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

The King grunted in reply and then asked, “Do you only have the sword?”

The smile slid from Flare’s face. “Yes. The sword is all I have.
I do not know where the helmet or the shield are located. The armor is supposed to be near the city of
Saprasia
.
”

The King was silent for a moment considering. “Then wh
y are you in these mountains?” h
e finally asked.

Flare shrugged and looked sheepish. “I only knew about the sword until recently and the Church has been pursuing me.”
Pausing he hoped Vognar would be receptive to his next suggestion. “Since you already know the true meaning of the prophecy, does that mean we can count on you to help?”

It was difficult to tell but it looked like Vognar actually smiled at that. “Whether you win or the other one wins, what does it matter to us? It will undoubtedly be bad for
the dwarves
either way.”

The statement caught Flare by surprise. “Bad for you?”
he repeated, “h
ow so?”

“The dwarves have never been treated as equals. Not even when we partook in the Great Wars. Our advice was never sought nor heeded, and once the fighting was over we were looked upon as servants rather than allies.”

“Perhaps your people were mistreated in the distant past, but those kings and leaders are long dead. I hope to avoid the mistakes they made.”

Vognar looked dubious. “You must forgive me but I’ve had little enough reason to trust a human,” he paused for several heartbeats and then hurried on, “or even a half-human.”

Flare did not know how to respond to that and so he held his tongue. There was a brief silence which was finally broken by Vognar speaking.

“Belgil, go and retrieve Flaranthlas’ things.”

Belgil started in surprise but recovered quickly. He bowed low and then turned and hurriedly left the room.

“
Flaranthlas, I would have you stay in a guestroom at my palace so that it will be easier for us to talk. Would that be acceptable?”

Surprised, Flare hesitated. “Well
, I really need to be going. I have a long journey ahead of me.” It was the simple truth. The Faerum wastelands were on the far side of Telurian territory which meant he had to cross the whole of a kingdom that was desperately searching for him.

“Journey?” Vognar repeated. “Are you heading to Saprasia then?” His eyes bored into Flare, he never blinked or looked away.

Flare nodded, “It’s the only place I know to go. The armor was lost there and
the Church
believe
s
that it is still there or perhaps a clue remains as to where it is now.” A new thought occurred to him and he pressed ahead quickly. “Do you know where the armor, helmet, or shield might be?”

Vognar’s forehead wrinkled in anger and his tone became even more gruff. “If I knew where the shield was, then the entirety of the dwarven realm would follow me to battle. We would liberate it or die in the attempt.”

“Of course,” Flare said quickly, “I meant no offense.”

After a moment Vognar nodded and some of the anger slipped away. “I have no idea where the armor is, but the helmet
has, for a long time,
been
rumored to be in the King of
Aramonia’s treasure room.
”

Flare took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Perhaps there was a reason that his path had brought him here. So,
it was possible that
the King of Aramonia had possession of the helmet. That suggested an alternate course of action; it might be better to go to Aramonia on the way to Saprasia. While Aramonia wasn’t exactly along the path he had planned to take, it would be faster to make a detour and try for the helmet then it would be to go to
Saprasia
and then come
all the way
back.

Smiling, Flare looked up at King Vognar. The dwarf was studying him inten
tly. “Thank you,” Flare said, “y
ou may have helped me even if you did not want to.”

“Perhaps,” Vognar said slowly, “but it was just a rumor.”

Chapter
22

It was late in the day as
the Guardians followed
Warren
into the mountains. They had made good time and hadn’t seen the first goblin. That wasn’t unusual. Goblins hated the daylight and preferred to come out once the sun had gone down. They had taken precautions though and
Warren
’s
men were spread out in front of the party, acting like scouts.
No one was particularly happy with the situation. The Guardians were unhappy about relying on the strangers to give warning prior to walking blindly into a bunch
of
goblins.
Warren
’s men were also unhappy; they did not enjoy their commander alone with the Guardians.

Warren and Heather led the way and Enton stayed close on their heels. Heather suppressed a grin at Enton’s attempt at chivalry. It was as if he thought
Warren
was leading them into an attack and he had to stay close to protect her. The urge to grin slowly left her and she wondered again what she should do about the big man. She forced the thoughts away, she could deal with it later if they survived this foolhardy attempt.

Immediately behind Enton, came sorcerers and magi. The two sorcerers had been walking with their heads together for hours, talking quietly and barely paying any attention to their surroundings. Cassandra and Mikela
walked shortly behind Dagan and Agminion, but they walked in silence.
Warren
had warned all four of them to use their craft only as a last resort and only then if their lives depended on it.

Aaron followed the small group
of magic-users
and he
seemed more at ease than Enton. He wasn’t foolish enough to trust these new strangers, but he did trust Heather.

Atock brought up the rear and he
, like
Enton, seemed to be walking on his toes. His hand never strayed far from the hilt of his sword and his eyes were busy constantly scanning their surroundings.

It had only taken a couple of hours to reach the spot where Heather and seen the prisoners being tortured and they gave it a wide berth. Undoubtedly there would be goblins near the prisoners. She even feared encountering a goblin heading to or from the amphitheatre. She shouldn’t have worried though.
Warren
took them a long way west to make sure they passed safely.

There were two mountain peaks here, and a valley led to the northwest. The group slowed while skirting around last night’s stage, but then they picked the pace back up quickly.
Gradually the land became more sloped and their pace slowed. The magic-users could not keep up a fast pace on a slope. They walked for several hours in silence before Heather spoke.

“Last night I saw a huge opening in the mountain. Was that the entrance to the mine?” Heather asked quietly.

Warren
glanced over at her and nodded. “Yes. Well, it’s the main entrance anyway. As I said last night there are several secret entrances we can use.” He looked around to see how the others were doing before continuing, “Most of the secret doors near the plateau have been found, but we know of some farther away.”

Heather looked back the way they had come. “But we travelled miles, are you telling me that the mine reaches this far?”

Smiling,
Warren
nodded. “The dwarves are at home under the earth. They built many mines, outposts, and even a few cities in these mountains.”

“And the Faerum allowed this? In their lands?”

“Both peoples benefitted. The dwarves got to do what they love; dig, mine, and make things. The Faerum got an excellent trading partner.” His smile slipped a little, “Like I said, they both profited from the arrangement.”

“Until the Faerum were all killed in the Third War of the Races? Were the dwarves all killed as well?”

For just a moment
Warren
looked unsure how to answer. He was spared from having to by the sudden and hurried return of Jerrold.

Even before Jerrold arrived,
Warren
had already waved
for everyone
to take cover
.
They were walking along a ridge on a rather steep slope and
they
were still going to the northwest, but that now involved some climbing. Luckily, the bushes and shrubs were fairly thick all along the mountainside. There was plenty of places to hide and
they
didn’t
needed
Warren
’s
urging, and in fact, they had already started moving that way before
Warren
had moved.

They all hunkered down in the bushes and prickly shrubs that grew this high up in the mountains.

Jerrold moved quickly to join them but he didn’t seem panicky or frightened and they had all began to relax even before he spoke. “We can see the entrance to the mine but there’s a problem.” He knelt down next to the shrubs and his multicolored cloak blended in nicely. “A small group of goblins are in the cave.”

“
You think they’
ve discovered the entrance?” Heather asked hurriedly.

Jerrold’s eyes twitched from
Warren
to Heather and then back to his leader. He did not look in her direction again, nor did he respond to her question.
He plainly did not like the Guardians’ presence here and he wanted everyone to know it.

Warren
sighed. “Please answer her question,” he said simply.

“I don’t think so,” Jerrold said and he gave no indication that he had noticed
Warren
’s frustration. “Most likely a patrol that just used the cave to make camp.”

Heather looked at
Warren
. “Do you mind asking Jerrold how many goblins
are
in the cave?”

Jerrold shot her a nasty glance and
Warren
actually smiled.
This time Jerrold did not wait for his commander to repeat the question. “We are not sure. We did not enter the cave and it is rather difficult to tell from afar. Our guess is no more than five or six.”

“Thank you,” Heather said, although she continued to look at
Warren
. She wasn’t sure why Jerrold disliked them so much but she could be just as childish as he could.

Warren
was silent for a moment as he considered their best course of action. Finally he looked back up, “Scout the area. I want to know if there are any more goblins hiding out there.”

Jerrold nodded once and then stood and jogged
back along the ridge in the direction he had approached from.

Warren
stood and motioned for the others to follow. Heather moved close and spoke quietly. “What’s the plan? Are we going to attack the goblins?”

Warren
hesitated for just a moment, “I think we have to. That’s the way into the mine and it’s the only one within three days that the goblins don’t know about. And I’m not even sure that the goblins haven’t found the other secret entrances. This might be the only one that’s still undiscovered.”

“You’re assuming that it’s still a secret,” Heather answered quietly. She didn’t like questioning
Warren
about his plan. She reserved the right to stop following
Warren
at any moment, but for the time being, they were following his lead.
She didn’t like having her decisions questioned and she really didn’t want to irritate
Warren
either.

He looked at her then; his eyes seemed to bore into her. “I know the risks, both to your people and mine. I don’t do this carelessly, but I believe it’s important to protect Nerandall.”

He seemed to mean what he said and she found herself wanting to believe him. She decided that she would trust him, at least for the time being. “All right,” she said quietly, “what’s the plan?”

Warren
smiled. “When I have one, I’ll let you know.”

As they neared the cave
,
that hid the secret entrance,
Warren
led them carefully through the brush. He was careful to keep them out of sight of the cave. It was still rather early for the goblins to be about, but they didn’t want to take any chances.

The cave was in a rocky stretch of a steep slope that overlooked a long swath of thick trees. The trees at least would provide them plenty of cover as they approached the cave.

They worked their way through the trees
in an overly slow manner. A bird called out three times and both Warren and Heather turned in that direction. He looked at her sharply and she just smiled. “We use bird cries as signals too.”

It didn’t take long for Maynard and Neely to push their way through the shrubs. They saluted
Warren
and then huddled in near him and Neely spoke quietly. “Sir, no sign of any other goblins in the area and we haven’t seen the goblins in the cave stirring yet.”

“We’re about to change that,”
Warren
said.

“So, what’s the plan?” This time it was Heather that spoke. Maynard and Neely both looked at her, but neither said a word. They didn’t seem to have the dislike for her that Jerrold showed.

“I need a decoy,”
Warren
said in way of answer.

Heather blinked at him, “A d
ecoy?” s
he repeated dully.

He nodded, “Yes. Someone who can walk past the cave and then run once they’re spotted.”

“How long do they have to run?”

“Not long,”
Warren
answered. “My men have short bows and will start shooting at them as soon as the goblins clear the cave. If any survive the arrows, we’ll have to take them out,” he paused briefly, “a bit closer.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. She would much rather kill the monsters from a distance than put any of her people in jeopardy up close.

Warren
sensed her hesitation and spoke quickly. “We use this ploy frequently and it works well against goblins. They’re not very smart.”

After a moment she sighed. “All right, I’ll be your decoy.”

“You?”
Warren
asked, looking surprised.

For some reason the look he was giving her irritated her. She didn’t know what his people felt about women fighters, but she wasn’t in a mood to listen to any such drivel. “Yes me. I’m the best woodsmen in my group and I’m the fastest too.”

Neely and Maynard shared a look but wisely held their tongues.

“As you wish,”
Warren
said after the briefest of pauses.

They set up with Enton, Atock, Aaron, Jerrold, and Warren near the cave with their swords at the ready. Quinn, Maynard, and Neely took up position to either side of the cave and slightly up the slope. That would give the advantage of being able to shoot at the goblins’ backs and not worry about being seen. The magic-users had been hidden in a clump of trees several hundred yards from the cave; close enough they could enter the mine with the others after the ambush but not close enough to be caught if things went badly.

After taking up their positions, they waited patiently for Heather to make her appearance. The plan was simple, Heather would draw the goblins out and the others would finish them off. Since there didn’t seem to be any other goblins in the vicinity, they didn’t have to worry about being too quiet. If they could kill them without too much of a mess, then they could hide the bodies and hope that this patrol’s disappearance was blamed on desertion.

A whistling came floating through the air and they began turning their heads to see what was causing it. It didn’t take long to spot Heather walking casually and whistling rather louder than what one would expect.

Breathing steadily, Heather walked slowly along the ridge. Her plan was simple but not easy. She had to catch the attention of the goblins and draw them out, but she couldn’t look like that was what she was doing.

She shuffled along the ridge and stopped several times to pick flowers.
Pausing, she listened for any sign that she had been spotted. Nothing.
Leave it to g
oblins to screw up patrol duty
,
s
he thought. If she hadn’t wanted to be seen, they probably would have already noticed her.

She moved several more feet along the ridge and  stopped to pick up a small stone, which she hurled down the slope.
Still nothing. She considered picking up another stone and throwing it into the cave but that seemed rather too obvious.

She started walking again, albeit slowly.
Her path was meandering and passed within maybe twenty yards of the cave mouth.

She was just beginning to suspect that the goblins would somehow not notice her when they emerged from the cave.
With a guttural roar, the first goblin burst forth.
He was a large brute, maybe a little taller than the average human. The fur that covered his body was a light brown. Like most goblins he didn’t wear much clothes, just a cloth wrap around his waist. In his hands he carried a large two-handed axe.
He was followed closely by his companions.