Sword of Light (The Knights of the Golden Dragons - Book One) (17 page)

           
The
Goddess she served gave little counsel despite the entreaties Tana voiced in
prayer. She grew more certain of the link that bound her to Gregor with each
passing day. Tana feared for the innocence the young warrior possessed. One
could not be thrust into the world and not be corrupted by the forces that
surrounded them, even in the sanctuary of the Temple of Light. Evil of many
forms tainted the natural places and the cities were filled with dubious men at
the best of times. These were not the best of times. Gregor’s simple nature had
awakened a desire in her to protect him, and she felt the loss of his company
with so great a distance between them. There was another feeling her travel
down the road to Zanthfar had brought to the surface, one Tana could no longer
brush away. She felt the pull of desire for the man he was to become.

           
Scents
and sounds of the deer the pair tracked drove thought from Tana's mind. She
gave herself to the hunt and kept pace with Fang as the two wolves neared the
kill. Instinct was so much simpler to understand than emotion.

           
Fang
tore at the deer, eating her fill of the first fresh meat she had taken in
quite some time. Her mistress was captured by the fire before her, staring into
the dancing flames, deep in thought. She was enveloped in the sounds of the
forest as her mind kept taking her to the first time she had encountered
Gregor, long before the careless swordsman had entered her home.

        
The dream had been as real as the
flames that flickered before her now, though the place she had found herself in
had been very different. She was trapped in a rocky valley shadowed by two
great mountains. Little vegetation was visible, and what trees and grasses
there were struggled to retain their normal forms. The sparse growths were
twisted by a pervasive evil that hung over the landscape. Tana felt weaker with
each breath of tainted air that stank of sulfur and brimstone. She stared into
the darkness where the valley’s entrance was lost around a natural bend in the
rock, sensing more than seeing the vicious forms that would soon enter the
narrow stretch of land where Tana found herself.

           
The
swordsman had appeared halfway down the rocky wall of the cliff to Tana's
right, bent on one knee with his head bowed and a black blade held out before
him. The dim light of the valley made the glowing weapon all the more
remarkable, burning away the darkness near the man and making his plated armor
glow. Gregor had lifted his head and pointed the sword to something behind
Tana, nodding as he looked beyond her. Tana tore her gaze away from the warrior
to see what he was acknowledging. The avatar behind her was as wide as the
valley and as tall as the mountains it floated between. The Goddess of Nature
extended her arms as Tana watched, restoring the plant life below her
outstretched hands. The avatar nodded to Gregor and then to Tana as the druid
huntress knelt to honor the vision. Tana had no fear as the avatar disappeared,
and she turned to meet the creatures she knew would flow out of the darkness in
moments.

           
The
holy warrior appeared at her side. "We must not fail." The words were
the last thing she had remembered before Tana had awakened from the dream, and
she had known Gregor was that warrior the first time he spoke. Tana had not
been able to decipher the vision despite turning it over in her head often, but
she knew in time they would stand together in battle. Their destinies were
intertwined and victory would be a matter of faith.

***

           
Gregor
knelt before the great altar in the main Temple, clearing his mind of all
thought. He offered up prayers as instructed by Father Wallin and focused on
opening his body and spirit to communion with the God of Light. A multitude of
candles drove the shadows from the circle of light in which he knelt,
illuminating the form of the God he served that towered over the altar. Gregor
gazed openly upward into the stone eyes of the statue that seemed to
contemplate the faithful warrior. He could not help feeling his worth was being
measured as the words of faith and commitment passed his lips.

           
Hours
passed before the final judgment of the God of Light came. Gregor felt an
undeniable force draw him to his feet as the statue before him was enveloped in
light, pushing away even the glow of the flickering candles surrounding him.
Father Wallin had prepared the warrior for this moment, and Gregor unsheathed
the black blade of Elenondo, bringing it up and pointing it toward the God of
Light as he had been instructed. As if in answer to the gesture, light poured
from the statue’s stony eyes and engulfed Gregor in divine power. Nothing could
have prepared the warrior for the sensations that flooded into him as the God
of Light set his entire being aflame with energy. There was no pain, only the
complete understanding of the divine strength of the God that had chosen him.
Gregor knew now that he had been chosen to serve the light long before he
understood such a faith even existed. A final surge of divine power ignited his
sword, much as it had done in the arena. When the light diminished, runes
remained near the base of the blade on either side of its flat surface. Gregor
stared at the markings, at a loss for comprehension.

           
"You
are complete, Master Gregor, and the God of Light has titled you well."
Father Wallin looked at the runes carved into the blade of the knight's sword.
"The markings are an ancient tongue that is all but forgotten, except for
those of us who serve and study within the great library. They spell Onmea, the
Sword of Light, and that is how you shall be known. Lord Gregor Light-sword, I
bow to the Knight of the Golden Dragon."

11

Meetings

The last days of the journey had been
uneventful as Tana and Fang neared Zanthfar. The road was well patrolled for several
days’ march from the main city and wooden towers manned by standing garrisons
dotted the road. Tana encountered frequent patrols of well-mannered soldiers
that kept merchants and travelers safe as they neared the city. These men and
women carried stories of orc raiding parties that appeared to have driven the
rogues and bandits from their usual hunting areas. The soldiers were not pleased
by this new development, but they had been able to kill or drive away the new
threat so far. Each of the orc parties was led by a creature similar to the one
Tana had encountered in her own forest, and it was these beasts that had caused
the most loss of life among the travelers and patrols. The beasts could not be
captured and there were no remains when they were killed, so the soldiers were
at as much of a loss as Tana to determine their origin. All of the roads that
led into Zanthfar were plagued by these frequent attacks and the war party sent
out by the city to locate their source had not returned.

           
The
pair had bypassed the city to take the more direct path to the Grove that
oversaw the wild lands of Zanthfar. The forests surrounding the central meeting
place were full of makeshift camps, and more rangers and druids of the Goddess
were arriving daily. Tana made her presence known to the high Druids overseeing
the gathering and offered what services she had to provide food and shelter for
the multitudes. Mithirina, the leader of the Grove, assured her that the
villagers protected near the Grove had provided for the gathering long before
the calling went out, and all knew the true bounty of the Goddess. "You
should take counsel with your brothers and sisters. We shall share our
knowledge soon and we must all learn what we can as the rest of those sent for
arrive. I imagine there are many here you have not seen for some time. Share
the peace of this Grove and rest while there is still an opportunity."

           
Tana
moved through the scattered camps and was warmly greeted by strangers and old
friends alike. The forest dwellers shared stories similar to Tana's own,
colored by their perception and the lands from which they had come. Tana noted
the men and women who protected the mountainous northern lands had been sorely
tested with the incursion of the brutal orc tribes. These humanoids, though
primitive and savage, had never been a direct threat to the mining camps
located throughout the rocky terrain until recently. Some orc groups had even
taken slaves and begun extracting ores from the tunnels. Rangers who tracked
the ore laden caravans of these orcs noted that they were moving into the
barren wastes that were shunned by the hardiest plant and animal life. They could
not fathom what power could coordinate such organized movement among the
savages. The beasts of burden that were loaded with the bounty were a mystery
in themselves. "Lizards wit’ thick ‘ides an’
t’ree
pair of legs
endin
’ in clawed feet.
Th
’ creatures be as long as two horses an’ stand ‘
alf
th
’
height of a man.
Th
’ beasts were driven forward by
th
’ constant crack of a
t’ree
-pronged
barbed whip wielded by ‘
andlers
that took their lives
into their ‘
ands
with every step.
Th
’
lizards seem to ‘
ave
little need o’ food. Their meals
are comprised of slaves brought for that purpose, or
th
’ corpses of their orc ‘
andlers
that are caught
nappin
’." The mountain ranger
describing the lizards took a moment to poke casually at the fire before him.
"They kill ‘
em
orcs when they can and, more
often than not,
th
’ lizards drag off
th
’ wounded ones after a battle before
fleein
’
deeper into
th
’ mountains. Makes it difficult
ta
interrogate
th
’
bastards when
th
’ wounded are taken by their own
pets."

           
"They
might have been trained that way." Tana interjected the thought that
seemed to be shared by many of the others around the fire. Nods of agreement
were seen as the ranger made to answer.

           
He
shook his head before replying, his gruff voice tainted by despair more than a
desire to disagree. "These be sad times when even
th
’ barbarian orc tribes would rather be ate alive
than caught. It
mus
’ be
sumthin
’
terrible that would make any creature choose death from
th
’
rippin
’ jaws of one of
those lizards over
th
’ punishment of their master.
Dark times."

***

           
Two
days after Tana had arrived, a gathering of all those assembled was held. The
sheer number of people that had come made it necessary to send various animal
companions away, and still the open center of the Grove was filled with tight
groups of rangers and druids from all across the lands. Each group was notable
by both the markings on their armor and the various leathers that composed said
protections. Tana recognized many of the groups from her studies but, even
among her peers, there were markings that predated written languages; ancient
tongues and insignias unknowable to outsiders. Every size and shape of man and
woman was represented, from the thin delicate tree dwellers of the great
forest, rumored to have distant connections to the long forgotten elves
responsible for training and educating the earliest druids, to the stout, broad
men and women who watched over the deepest caves and tunnels that wound through
the mountainous areas.

           
Tana
had never seen the tree dwellers before though she had heard stories of them as
a child. Many simple people thought of them as fey creatures born from the
hearts of great old trees. Even other rangers and druids rarely saw them, and
Tana could easily understand the mysticism that surrounded these people as she
looked at their delicate features and the gentle point of their ears, so like
the red foxes'. Each of the three that had come had long flowing hair with
intricate braids held by links of thin vines and leaves. The forest they called
home was an ancient one that no hunter dared enter, full of creatures
considered rare and magical. Anyone seeking to pillage that bounty would rarely
escape the creatures within, and never made it from the wood without the aid of
its protectors.

           
The
mountain people were another story. They were well respected among the miners
they kept safe. Gifts of strong drink and fine mining tools were often left for
them in tribute before ore was drawn from a new shaft. These mountain rangers
often set markings for the miners to guide their picks and keep them from
dangers like faults in the stone and hidden underground riverbeds that could
collapse tunnels on the unwary. Some of the hardiest mountain people even took
brides
from the family they protected, and this was
considered a high honor for the family of the lass in question. The miners
prospered, and the mountain rangers and druids kept their numbers growing,
which was crucial in light of the latest developments. Despite the welcoming
nature of the
rocky mountains
’ protectors, Tana found
their stories the most terrible. It was their people who suffered the most at
the hands of these new threats, and there was no end in sight.

           
Mithirina
brought her hands up to quiet the murmuring gathering, and silence, broken only
by bird songs, enveloped the Grove. "Let me start by thanking all of you
who have come. The numbers who have responded to the calling far exceed our
greatest hopes. We have much to review with you, and there is much to
accomplish before the light of the sun passes away today. There are a few I
wish to introduce before going any further. The sturdy gentleman to my left is
Fasurel Stonecutter, a man well known to the people who call the mountains to the
north home." Several cheers broke from the crowd as Fasurel raised a
rough, callused hand in greeting. "His knowledge of the great mountains of
his people is matched only by his bravery when defending them. Mistress Alunia
joins us from the ancient forest to the east. As many of you know, the
Ardataure peoples keep constant vigil over the mystic beasts within their
forest, creatures that once roamed all these lands in the ancient times.
Mistress Alunia's sharp eyes have already brought us much information about the
problems in the wild lands where this Grove makes its home. Last, I present to
you, Lord Galant Silverwing, ranger, protector, and the last Knight of the
Golden Dragon. This man dedicated his life to the destruction of all manner of
evil forces throughout these lands before being called as a ranger of the Goddess
we all serve. He is a servant of two faiths, a bridge between the natural and
the civilized world. Each of these three representatives brings their special
gifts to us, and hopes that we can together find a way to end the troubles that
have come to our lands."

           
The
lead druid paused for the spontaneous applause that could not be contained.
Tana was shocked at the sight of Master Silverwing standing among the various
people's leaders. His appearance as the representative of the civilized human
settlements, and being noted as a bridge between the keepers of nature and the
same, would have been curious enough when Tana considered what she knew of the
man. It seemed to Tana that Master Silverwing had long ago turned his efforts
to the protection of his remaining brothers in arms and away from the general
population. His appearance was surprising enough, but the twin blades hanging
at his sides brought up a number of other questions. These were the twin blades
which Gregor had put into Master Firebeard's care, showing signs of work that
could only be attributed to him as they glowed in the sunlight, fully restored.
The myriad questions in her mind would have to wait, and with effort Tana pushed
back the two most immediate ones: where was Gregor and was he safe?

           
"We
have become aware that the curse shrouding this wild land is a disease that has
spread to all corners of our world. There is still little information to
illuminate how or why these things have come to pass, but I wish to share what
we do know." Mithirina waited for silence to retake the Grove before
continuing, "Many of you here have noted the appearance of the demon blood
orcs, or Nilorque as they are called, leading aggressive bands of raiding
parties into the lands of men. Until recently the orcs were a minimal nuisance
easily dealt with by the militia of the cities, requiring no intervention from
the peoples that protect the wilds. The Nilorque have changed that, and we fear
that they are only the outward sign of a much greater evil. Mistress Alunia
will now share her observations since arriving here."

           
The
Ardataure stepped forward, speaking in a light voice that carried over the
Grove. "Many of you know the border plains in this area are home to the
largest concentration of orc tribes in the lands. The hardy wild men and women
who share hunting grounds with these barbaric tribes have always formed a
buffer between the settled lands and the plains, even trading with the more
civilized orc tribes. Nilorque, who have never in the past been encountered
more than one at a time, have begun entering the plains areas in groups as
large as twenty within the past few months. They are strong orc warriors imbued
with power by their tribal shaman before taking on the role as chieftain in a
group, and they have steadily grown more powerful than has been witnessed in
the past. Something is driving them to bring together their tribes, testing the
strength of this new unification with the massacre of human tribal groups also
living in the plains areas, wreaking havoc and causing bloodshed with no
discernible pattern or reasoning. It is as if the Nilorque, previously only
honored and recognized by their individual tribes for their battle prowess and
hunting abilities, have somehow been called upon by some outside power. The
seeds of power planted by their tribal shamans appear to have been manipulated
and multiplied tenfold by this unknown power. We have reason to believe that
the power in question is either a mage or priest of some great strength in this
land, who has somehow managed to take control of a Tharnorsa from the Abyss
itself. The Tharnorsa, a demon lord within the Abyss rarely encountered on this
plane even in its incorporeal form, is for all appearances somehow in thrall to
its summoner. Word has come from Lord Silverwing that brings us to this
conclusion. Lord Silverwing?"

           
The
knight stepped forward into the spot Mistress Alunia had left. "A student
of mine, Master Gregor, was completing his training in Nactium at the Temple of
Light with a weapons trial. It was a standard test of arms that all knights
face, and the Governor was kind enough to allow the final test to be held in
the arena of the city. A witness reported to me that during the melee, two
priests of unknown faith took control of the arena and, though one was slain, a
Raukohaun rose from the body as the other priest disappeared. The witness
described the creature quite thoroughly. It was little more than a demon whelp,
spawned of an unholy bond in the Abyss, but no less a demon that required very
little of its summoners. Master Gregor was able to slay the beast, and faith
prevented any further deaths in the arena. There were no protective symbols or
circles noted in the arena itself, indicating the summoners had not prepared
the arena grounds before the creature was brought forth. Such blatant use of
the summoning magic with complete disregard for the safety of the summoners is
unheard of even among those misguided souls who worship the creatures in the
Abyss. Master Fasurel Stonecutter has made some troubling discoveries in the
barren mountains near his home lands as well. Master Stonecutter, if you
will."