The Gateway (Harbinger of Doom Volume 1) (4 page)

“
Well, I’ll have none of it,” said
Ob. “Nothing but rubbish.”

“
I’ll not touch those things,”
said one knight.

“
Nor will I,” said
another.

“
I’ll take one,” said Claradon, as
he and Theta moved toward Gabriel. Claradon reached out toward the
glowing blade.

“
Dargus dal is mine,” said Gabriel
as he sheathed it and reached down into the chest. “But you may
have its twin.” Gabriel pulled another wondrous blade from the
chest and handed it to Claradon. “It is called Worfin dal, which
means the lord’s dagger in the old tongue.”

“
Asgardian daggers,” said Theta.
“I thought them all lost long ago.”

“
Not all, my Lord,” said Gabriel.
“Some few remain. I regret that I cannot offer you one, for of them
I possess only two.” He reached into the chest and withdrew another
dagger. This one was longer and thinner than the first two. Its
scabbard and pommel were less ornate, and although it glowed, its
luminescence paled in comparison to the first two. He presented it
to Theta.

“
This one, and all the rest are of
the finest Dyvers steel and ensorcelled by the arch-mages of the
Order of the Arcane. No better blades are forged in Midgaard today,
dwarven boasts notwithstanding.”

Theta nodded his thanks.

“
These blades will protect us from
the baleful fog and blind our enemies with the light of just and
valiant Tyr,” said Gabriel. “There are enough for each of you. Each
man will take one, like it as not. That includes you good
Castellan.”

The men grumbled and grunted in protest, but
in the end, each dutifully girded one of the daggers about their
waist or ankle.

“
I look forward to hearing the
tale of how you acquired these,” said Claradon.

“
And I’ll gladly tell it to you
and Aradon both, upon our return.”

“
I’ll be hearing that tale too,”
said Ob, “as long as it comes with mead or good gnomish
ale.”

VI

DOR EOTRUS

Claradon led the group from the central tower,
the very heart of the Dor, through the courtyard and down Market
Street, toward the main gates. As they made their way, they saw
citizens dashing about, frightened looks etched on their faces.
Many were carrying loads of food or other supplies, stocking up for
a feared siege; some were loading wagons with all their worldly
belongings, apparently preparing to flee the Dor for safer
environs. More than a few residents of the Outer Dor, the town
beyond the main walls, were filing into the keep proper, seeking
more secure refuge for the night. There truly was an unmistakable
and pervading sense of doom plaguing the keep. Dor Eotrus had ever
been a place of strength, peace, and security. Now all that had
changed.

Despite the circumstances, walking toward the
main gates Claradon couldn’t help but be impressed by the strength
and majesty of the Dor itself. The twelve-foot thick outer and
inner walls of the noble castle, crafted by master stonemasons,
stood forty and sixty feet in height, respectively. Mammoth towers
flanked the main gate and additional towers were situated at the
four corners of both the outer and inner baileys. The towers’
crenellated parapets partially obscured an array of large catapults
and ballistae fortifying the roofs. Looking back, whence they came,
he could see the enormous cylindrical tower they had recently
exited. It was a magnificent work of engineering that approached
two hundred fifty feet in height and included several majestic
turrets and minarets that branched off from the primary
tower.

Claradon had ordered the Dor’s forces to
prepare to defend against a possible attack and as they approached
the main gate, he saw that the preparations were well underway.
Squads of men-at-arms guarded the entranceway and the barbican area
beyond. Soldiers on the allures were heating iron vats filled with
oil and squads of crossbowmen stalked the battlements.

At the main gates, the men mounted fine horses
and headed out. The guards bowed to Claradon as he passed. Several
riders approached at a canter just as the group cleared the gates.
Their leader pulled up alongside Gabriel and Ob.

“
What news?” said Ob.

“
No sign of the patrol, Castellan.
We rode as far as five leagues into the wood. There were no
animals, no birds, not even the sounds of insects. All life has
fled the wood. I’ve never seen its like.”

“
Any sign of an enemy force?” said
Gabriel.

“
Or any strange beasties?” said
Ob.

“
None,” said the scout.

The expedition soon passed through the Outer
Dor and headed off the road, toward the Vermion Forest. Gabriel
sent outriders to cover their flanks while Ob rode some ways ahead
to scout. Gabriel rode at the vanguard of the main group, followed
by his picked men. Behind them was Theta, Dolan, Par Tanch, and
Claradon, the rest of the squadron closely followed.

As they rode through the ominous woodland,
Lord Theta and Dolan conversed quietly. Dolan now looked little
like a simple retainer; his aspect more akin to a veteran soldier
or mercenary - donned as he was in a battered cuirass of brown and
black-hued leather and equipped with a small arsenal of weaponry.
He girded the well-oiled longsword sheathed at his side in the
manner of a professional soldier, and the longbow engraved with
strange pictograms that he wore over his shoulder was clearly oft
used in battle. The hafts of several daggers protruded from sheaths
at his boots and his shoulder.

“
Lord Angle, after we’ve seen this
business through, do you think perhaps we’ll be able to go back
home?”

Theta shrugged.

“
I know we must be here for some
reason, something big, more than just some strange goings on in
some woods. We’re not halfway ‘round the world from home for just
that.”

“
What do you expect we’ll find in
these woods, Lord Angle?”

Expressionless and even-toned, Theta replied,
“Some world-eating monster or demon lord or ancient wyrm, no doubt.
It matters not, for I will put it down whatever it be.”

“
I thought we took care of all of
them fellas already?”

Theta ignored him.

“
Guess there’s some more lurking
about. I hate them lurkers.”

VII

THE CIRCLE OF DESOLATION

After two hours of travel through the
darkened, foreboding forest the expedition came upon the dread
circle of desolation. It was a bizarre and fearful sight. Not a
single living thing existed across its stark and barren expanse.
There was no foliage, animal life, or insect life whatsoever. The
circle consisted of nothing more than a desolate, flat area of
hardened soil that stretched out in a circular pattern several
hundred yards in diameter. The edge curved out a perfectly smooth
arc and was depressed several inches below the surrounding ground,
such that one would have to step down to walk upon the circle’s
barren interior.

No enemies were about and the knights could
discern no obvious signs of Lord Eotrus’s patrol. Gabriel directed
Ob to take two thirds of the squadron and scour the woodland beyond
the unnatural circle. They were to search for signs of the patrol
or of whatever enemy force had waylaid them. “But do not set foot
within the circle until I give you leave,” said Gabriel.

Meanwhile, the others examined the perimeter
of the circle itself, none daring to venture beyond the rim after
Gabriel’s warning.

“
We must determine whether it’s
safe step within,” said Gabriel.

“
Perhaps I can assist with that,”
said Par Tanch. “I think that the Arcane Order would approve the
use of the sorcerous arts in this circumstance. So with your
permission Sir Gabriel, I shall call upon my humble powers to
divine if fell sorcery is at work here.”

“
Of course Par Tanch, have at
it.”

Par Tanch began his divination by chanting in
a strange guttural tongue. He soon coupled his rather oppressive
intonations with strange arm and hand movements, akin to a bizarre,
primitive, and awkward dance. He tossed various sparkling powders
about that gave off small bursts of light and puffs of smoke that
smelled like rotten eggs. Such antics were mere mummery, and though
wholly superfluous, the members of the Arcane Order seemed to think
such things expected of them, so they carried on thus.

As Par Tanch put on his performance, Lord
Theta quietly approached the rim of the circle several yards to the
backs of the rest of the company. From a pouch at his belt, he
produced an amulet inset with an oblong azure-hued gemstone that
had the look of a sapphire, though it was actually a spinel. With
this ancient charm, Theta could detect the presence or residues of
all manner of arcane magics, marking them as either beneficent or
fell. As he held it aloft and moved it toward the rim, the gem
began to emit a soft flickering glow. The color of the stone
quickly changed to a fiery red. As he passed his hand beyond the
rim, the glow faded but did not extinguish.

Theta quickly replaced the amulet from whence
it came, and then gripped the strangely twisted wooden ankh that
hung from a leather cord about his neck. The ankh was no mere
accouterment, but an ancient holy symbol preserved from some bygone
age. One who grasped its deepest secrets could use it to detect the
presence of certain maleficent creatures, beasts, or men. In its
ear, Theta whispered words from ages past, forbidden words of
power, long since lost to the world. Gripping the relic tightly, he
surveyed the barren landscape before him. His eyes consumed the
circle for several seconds, devouring every inch of it. Finally, he
released the ankh, allowing it to fall back against his
chest.

He then passed the tip of his lance across the
rim of the circle and thrust it, gently at first, then more
forcefully against the bleak soil within. He seemed to be testing
the soil, as one might use a pole to probe the firmness of the
ground when traveling through a swamp or bog.

Completing his ritual, Par Tanch cried, “Oh
my, oh my. There is black sorcery at work here, Sir Gabriel.
Fearful, insidious magic of a kind quite alien to me. I would say
that--”

“
Chaos sorcery lingers along the
very rim,” said Theta, as he moved to stand beside Tanch. “It
emanates from something buried below the surface, but its power is
waning.” Tanch raised an eyebrow at Theta’s proclamations. The
knights looked to Tanch, apparently skeptical of the conclusions of
the foreign soldier.

“
I agree with Lord Theta’s most
astute assessment,” said Tanch. “I’d no idea you were so versed in
the arcane arts, my Lord. To your assessment, I would add, however,
that we can safely pass the threshold and enter the
circle.”

“
I concur,” said Theta. He boldly
stepped across the rim and walked about to no ill
effect.

“
You men, break out the tools and
try to uncover whatever is buried below the rim,” said
Gabriel.

VIII

CHAOS, COINS, AND CULTS

“
How goes the work,” said
Tanch.

“
Mr. Indigo’s broken three shovels
so far,” said Dolan. “Mr. Paldor’s only broken one. Not that he
isn’t trying as hard; it’s just that he’s smaller.”

“
This bloody ground’s like frozen
soil in the dead of winter,” said Paldor.

“
More like the packed dirt of an
old road - in the frozen dead of winter,” said Indigo as he wiped
his brow with the back of his hand. “Not easy work.”

“
That much is clear,” said Tanch.
“Oh, I do wish I could assist you in your labors, but with my
delicate back, I’m afraid such work is quite beyond me. Perhaps
after I’ve rested a bit longer under yonder tree, I’ll feel strong
enough to heft the shovel for a time.”

“
Hold on! Look at what we got
here,” said Dolan as he lifted a shiny metallic object from the
soil. “A gold coin with some strange markings.”

Dolan passed it over to Tanch before
redoubling his efforts to look for more. The others gathered around
as Tanch studied the coin for a time. “There’s no doubt,” said
Tanch, “some strange arcane signature indeed emanates from this
coin.” He held out the coin toward Theta. “Would you care to
examine it?”

Theta waved Tanch’s hand away. He wouldn’t
touch the thing. Tanch held out the coin toward Claradon. “Master
Claradon? Sir Gabriel?”

Claradon reached for the coin.

Gabriel started. “Stop!”

“
Aie!” cried Claradon as he
touched the coin, his face contorting in pain and revulsion.
Gabriel swatted at Claradon’s hand and the coin went flying. “The
damn thing burned my hand.”

“
It doesn’t seem to like thee
Eotrus,” said Theta chuckling.

“
Are you hurt boy?” said
Gabriel.

“
It’s a thing of evil! and should
not be touched by a righteous knight,” said Claradon, still wincing
from the pain.

“
Oh my, oh my,” said Tanch,
hopping from one leg to the next. “I beg your pardon Master
Claradon,” said Tanch. “I didn’t know it would harm you. Please
accept my deepest apologies. I didn’t know. Truly, I had no idea
that --”