The King's Ring (The Netherworld Gate Book 2) (3 page)

Murdok turned and went in through the other door. By this time, the two guards from the entry were running in after him, shouting and hollering something, but he wasn’t listening. He pushed the door open and saw a long, rectangular hall with a single long table in the center of it. At the opposite end of the hall was another door, which was closed. At the head of the table sat a single man, eyes closed and a glass of wine in his right hand.

Murdok rushed in and stopped a few paces away from the man. The man opened his eyes slowly and then lifted his head from the back of the chair to look directly at Murdok. He slowly set the glass down upon the table and drummed with his left fingers. He drew in a deep breath and then leaned forward, placing his black goateed chin upon his clasped hands as he peered at Murdok. “I do not wish to be disturbed,” he said simply.

“I am sorry, but I need to inform you that there is going to be an attack,” Murdok said.

In came the two guards from the entry. “Sorry, Ranger Diggs, but he slipped in. We’ll get him out.”

Diggs waved them off with a flip of his left hand and then pushed back from the table.

“Go back outside,” Diggs commanded. The two guards saluted and left just as quickly as they had come in, closing the door behind them.

“Sir, I am serious,” Murdok insisted.

“Yes,” Diggs said with a nod as he rose from the table. “I am sure you are.”

“You have to alert the other Rangers, Tehrigg has turned on us, and even now he marches to our gates with an enemy force of thousands.”

Diggs brought his hands in together and cracked his knuckles. Then he stretched his arms before pulling a blood-encrusted sword from its scabbard. “There are no more Rangers,” Diggs said. “A new day has come. Only those willing to wait out the night will live to see the dawn,” he said cryptically. “Tell me, guardsman, do you understand when it is time to lie down and let the darkness overtake the world? Or are you bound to fight the twilight?”

Murdok backed away, not fully understanding what was happening. He kept his gaze on the reddish-brown blade that Diggs held in his hand. “You killed them all?” Murdok asked. In alarm he drew his own blade and shook his head. “Why would you do that?” he whispered.

Diggs chuckled. “Because, like you, they did not see the good of change.”

“I will not betray our people,” Murdok said, backing away slowly.

“Then you shall die, as did the others.” Diggs lunged forward with lightning-fast speed.

Murdok barely lifted his sword in time to deflect the Ranger’s blade. Diggs sent a heavy kick to Murdok’s stomach, causing the man to stumble back. Then the Ranger jumped and kicked Murdok in the face. Murdok’s nose crumpled under the blow and blood began to fly through the air as Murdok sailed to the floor and landed on his back.

“Pathetic,” Diggs chided as he moved in with his sword raised high.

Murdok hooked his ankle around a chair and flipped it into the Ranger’s way. The chair didn’t cause any damage, but it slowed the Ranger enough that Murdok was able to roll under the sturdy table and out of reach. Murdok crawled to the other side, but he heard a heavy
wathump
atop the table. A blade flashed down between a pair of chairs in front of him, and Murdok stopped short.

“Come on out,” Diggs said. “Fight me like a man, or are you only a dog, crawling under the master’s table and begging for scraps!”

Murdok turned and tried to crawl the opposite way. No sooner did he near the edge of the table than a blade stabbed down in front of him again.

“I can do this all day,” Diggs shouted from above.

Murdok looked to the end of the table. He rolled to it. This time he wasn’t careful about making noise. He slid his feet up under him, planted his hands firmly against the ground, and his shoulders up to the table. This time, when the blade stabbed down, Murdok shot up with all of his strength. The table flipped up, creaking and groaning under the strain. Diggs stumbled and then fell into the middle of the long table. The wood splintered and the table snapped in half. Murdok kept driving his half up until the piece he held flipped over backward.

He then whirled around with sword at the ready. The table half slammed down atop Diggs.

“Son of a biff,” Diggs mumbled as the wood sandwiched him. Diggs was struggling to get out from under it. Murdok jumped atop the broken furniture and drove it down with all of his might.

“Gargh!” Diggs shouted.

Murdok jumped again, and then he stomped the table with as much force as he could muster. The table shifted under him, and he could feel that Diggs was positioning the table half to throw it off. Murdok leapt out to the side. A moment later, Diggs threw the splintered slab of wood toward the door. At that moment, with the Ranger’s sword on the ground next to him and his arms fully extended from throwing the table, Murdok came in with a single thrust, perfectly aimed at Digg’s chest. The blade slipped in between two ribs and stopped only as it went out the back and jammed into the other table half underneath Diggs, pinning him to the table like some sort of morbid butterfly in a collection. The Ranger’s eyes went wide and his hips arched up, struggling against the sword. When that didn’t help, he reached out and grabbed his sword. He swung it clumsily and glared at Murdok.

Murdok released his sword, unable to free it without risking being caught by Diggs’ sword.

“Come on, dog,” Diggs growled.

Murdok grabbed a nearby chair and brought it down with all of his strength. The wood cracked and broke apart as it smashed Diggs’ sword arm into the ground. The Ranger squirmed and moaned. He coughed up a bit of blood and then went still.

Murdok grabbed another chair, but then stopped when he realized that Digg’s upper arm now bent in ninety degrees about halfway between the shoulder and elbow. The sword arm was useless now. Murdok bent down and pried the Ranger’s sword from his grip. Diggs grunted, but he didn’t cry out. He just kept his icy blue eyes locked on Murdok.

“This sword is a Ranger sword,” Murdok said. “It is only given to those found worthy to join the Rangers.” Murdok turned the blood-stained blade over in his hands. “As you have dishonored it, I shall restore its honor.”

Diggs continued to stare into Murdok’s eyes. Murdok moved in and placed a foot on Diggs’ chest, near where his sword rested. The guardsman held up Diggs’ sword and then brought it down in one clean chop. Diggs’ head rolled free. The eyes still stared out, but now the fire was gone from them.

He wiped his new sword on Diggs’ pants and then left the way he had come in.

The two guards were waiting for him outside on the street.

“Are you loyal to Rasselin?” Murdok asked coldly.

The two guards glanced to each other and then back to Murdok. “Of course,” they said in unison.

“Then come with me, we are under attack and we need to raise the guard.”

“By what authority?” one of them asked.

“By the Rangers of Rasselin.” Murdok held up the sword and the two guards nodded slowly.

“What about Diggs?” one of the guards asked.

“He is unable to join us at the moment, but gave me his sword to show that I have the right to send you away from your posts. Go, find as many of the guard as you can. An army is coming to the gates, and will soon…” Murdok’s words trailed off and he stared down the street. “Oh by the Gods,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

The other two guards followed his gaze and similarly muttered under their breaths.

“They’re already inside,” Murdok said. “Go, now, GO! Find the others!” The two guards dropped their halberds and sprinted down nearby streets to find other guardsmen.

Murdok stood still and looked down the street he had been running on only a matter of minutes ago. Now, a horde of horsemen rode upon the street killing any who dared exit their homes or shops. Tehrigg was not among them, and all of them wore Shausmatian colors.

Murdok bent down and grabbed the two halberds the guards had left and held one in each hand. “I don’t know if any of you are listening,” Murdok prayed to the gods. “But, if any of you would lend me strength, I would be your servant forever.” He leveled the halberds, balancing them so that he could run and still wield each one. Then he charged down the street. It was only a matter of seconds before the horsemen saw him. One of them ordered a charge and they all kicked their horses into a faster gallop.

Judging by the speed with which they passed the buildings, Murdok knew he had only seconds until they reached him. He ran with carefully measured steps. Scanning the horses for a weak link in the group. He dodged left, then right, trying to create confusion among the riders, then he feinted left and jumped out to the right just as they closed in on him. He threw the first halberd with a wide arc, spinning the blade end through the air until it bit into a horse’s lower neck. The blade did little damage, as it was not a heavy throw, but the butt of the halberd planted firmly on the ground and the shaft splintered as the beast ran on. It punctured through the horse’s chest and the animal flipped over, throwing the rider and causing the next several horses to stumble and fall.

Murdok held the second halberd in both hands and went to slide on his knees, just under the closest horseman’s reach. As the rider passed by, Murdok struck up at the next horseman, catching him in the gut and flinging him from his saddle. The rider less horse neighed and jumped up, fore hooves clawing at the air and inadvertently creating a shield to Murdok’s left.

Murdok jumped up, running alongside the wall and twirling around to catch the next rider in the face. The halberd’s blade punched through the helmet’s visor and tore the man’s head off. Next, Murdok ducked down as a series of riders galloped in. The nearest one thrust a spear, but Murdok caught the weapon under his armpit and held it fast. When the rider yanked it hard, Murdok released it and then lunged in, using the spike atop his halberd to pierce the rider’s side and push him from his mount.

The next rider barreled in, shoving the horse out of the way and cleaving Murdok’s halberd in half with a heavy sword. Murdok held onto the sheared shaft and somersaulted under the rider’s horse. As he rolled below, he thrusted the pointed end of his broken weapon up into the horse’s gut. The animal jumped and kicked wildly, forcing the rider to hang on for dear life. Other riders couldn’t get in close now, for the horse became frantic, jumping and kicking at anything nearby.

Murdok danced around the horse, using it as a moving shield as he surveyed the remaining warriors. The living barricade only lasted a few moments though. When it became clear that the horse was beyond comforting, the rider drove his own sword into the beast’s neck and leapt off before it fell to the ground.

“He is mine!” the soldier yelled as he yanked his bloody blade from the horse.

The other warriors cheered and formed a semi-circle around them.

“Get him Barret,” one of them yelled.

“That horse has been with me since I entered the army,” Barret growled.

Murdok smirked. “Well then, judging by your age, I can only surmise that the horse has more than lived out his usefulness.”

Barret yelled and came in with a high chop. Murdok jumped left and swung his blade at Barret’s back. Barret whirled around with blinding speed, deflecting Murdok’s blow with such strength that Murdok nearly lost his sword. The man lunged in and shouldered Murdok in the chest, knocking him back against the wall of the house they were fighting in front of.

“Nothing to say now?” Barret sniggered.

“You fight as well as my sister dances,” Murdok said. He blew a kiss at Barret and then moved in. He swung left, then dropped and feinted a thrust before twirling around and chopping from the right. Each time, Barret kept pace, moving and shifting his feet and blade perfectly and blocking each advance. Murdok came in with an overhead chop. Barret used his sword to pinch Murdok’s sword against the wall of the house. Then the man smiled.

“My turn,” he growled. He pushed off Murdok’s blade and came in with a diagonal downward chop, then reversed it up into a feinted slice before flipping the handle over and twirling around in an underhanded slice. Murdok ducked under the blade, and then realized his mistake as Barret smiled and came down hard with a stab aimed for his neck. Murdok jumped back, barely avoiding the blade as it
clanked
against the packed dirt. A bit of dust and a couple chunks of earth flew up as Barret ripped his sword free and came in again.

Murdok pulled a knife from his belt and flicked it. The blade whistled through the air and suddenly stopped when it sank into Barret’s neck at the bottom just above where the ribcage forms together to form the sternum. Barret choked and coughed. Then he fell over.

Murdok rose to his feet and turned to face the other riders. Their circle was tight, and he knew to charge them would be death now. He had to wait for them to make the first move. Then, one of the riders pulled a bow from his back.

“I’ll end this,” he said.

Suddenly the door behind Murdok opened and a pair of big hands pulled him into the doorway.

A dark night fell over the city of Bluewater. The moon rose high into the night sky, but hid its face behind clouds and gave little light to the city below. Guards were out in force, patrolling the city with a ferocious determination and focus. Seldaric and Kai kept watch from the second floor window of a warehouse near the docks, hoping to catch the scoundrel as he attempted to escape.

“Are you certain that the assassin could not have a boat and crew waiting for him in some other predetermined spot?” Kai asked as he scanned the dark streets for any sign of movement.

Seldaric shook his head. “The waters are too treacherous in the other areas around the island,” the elf replied. “The jagged reefs and rock formations would pulverize any ship that was foolish enough to come too close to the shore.”

“What about a small vessel, like a rowboat or canoe perhaps?” Kai asked.

Seldaric again shook his head. “If the assassin is able to navigate the rocks and reefs with a canoe, then the open seas will take him down to the depths. I am unaware of any settlements reachable directly by sea other than Tuport.”

“You said he killed your grandfather,” Kai went on. “Was there anything else he might be after?”

Seldaric turned an impatient glare on him. “As I told you last week, if the assassin had wanted to steal from my grandfather, he would have gone to the Scholar’s Keep.”

Kai nodded and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back on a large wooden crate.

The elf turned back to the window. He was quiet for a while, and then he asked, “What of the man he killed in Rasselin, did he steal anything from him?”

Kai shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. Kai omitted the note he had found on Gandle’s body. “He killed the governor and escaped just as I arrived.”

“Seldaric, you have a visitor,” Ulthgaron said from outside the room they stood in. Seldaric and Kai turned to see Ulthgaron standing in the doorway. He bowed out of the way to reveal a slender, long haired elf. She tipped her head to the side and walked into the room. She wore red robes with bright, golden lettering on the rim of each sleeve. Her silvery hair was neatly braided into a single plait which hung over the front of her left shoulder. A long scimitar hung over her back and a pair of curved short swords were fastened to her belt. She limped as she approached, wincing each time her left foot hit the ground.

Seldaric bowed his head. “I am at your service,” he offered. Kai pushed off from the crate and watched the exchange half-heartedly, occasionally glancing back out the window.

“Your grandfather’s death is a tragedy. He was a visionary elf, and an extraordinary ally to our cause.

“Thank you, priestess,” Seldaric offered.

“There is something you should know,” the female elf said. She clasped her hands before her and sighed. “Your grandfather also guarded a secret.”

“I knew it,” Kai muttered under his breath. He turned now with his full interest. “What did the assassin take?”

Seldaric lifted his head suddenly and shot Kai a disapproving look. “Forgive him,” Seldaric said to the female elf. “He is not familiar with our customs.” Seldaric turned to Kai and reproved him in a sharp whisper. “This is a Svetli’Tai Kruk priestess.”

Kai drew his brow in and shook his head. “Yeah, like Ulthgaron, I can see her red robes for myself,” he said.

“No,” the she-elf corrected Kai. “A priestess stands above the rank and file Kruks. I am the commander of the Kruks assigned to Jahre. As such, it is my responsibility to lead the investigation into Jahre’s murder and apprehend the killer, by any means necessary.”

“Show respect,” Seldaric chided out the side of his mouth.

The female elf arched a brow at Kai for a moment and then turned to address Seldaric. “Have you had any sightings?”

“Beyond the attack last week, we have seen no sign of the assassin,” Seldaric replied.

Kai interrupted again. “I may not know your customs, but where I am from, if you want help with an investigation, you share what you know. If you want our help, tell us what the man took.”

“One should not talk to a Svetli’Tai Kruk Priestess in such tones!” Seldaric growled through clenched teeth.

The female elf raised her hand and shook her head. “It is alright,” she said. “I sense in him that the assassin has done something to hurt our human visitor as well.”

Kai stiffened. “You sense what?”

The priestess moved in closer to Kai and held her hand out before the ex-ranger’s face. Kai pulled back slightly, but she held her hand up and stared into his eyes. “He slew a governor, is that right?” the female elf asked.

“Anyone could have told you that by now,” Kai said. “I said as much to Seldaric and to Ulthgaron over there about a week ago.”

The priestess nodded and extended her hand until it touched Kai’s forehead. “And you suspect he killed a friend of yours,” she continued. “You can’t prove it, but you are sure he is responsible. Am I right?”

Kai relaxed a bit and nodded.

“Svetli’Tai Kruk Priestesses have an ability to read minds and hearts,” Seldaric put in.

The priestess nodded. “We aren’t wholly telepathic, but we can sense thoughts and emotions. Those of us who are very skilled can sometimes gather other bits of information. That is what sets us above the rank and file Kruks. All of us are skilled warriors, but a priestess’ ability to discern thoughts gives us the right to command and lead. In this way, we can control our guards, and ensure that each Kruk remains true to our mission.”

“What is that mission, exactly?” Kai asked.

She narrowed her eyes on him and pulled her hand away from his forehead.

Kai nodded and then pointed to her leg. “Looks like you came face to face with the assassin.” he said.

The elf offered a faint smile. “He put a dagger in my thigh as I tried to chase him from Scholar’s Keep.”

“What was he looking for?” Kai pressed.

The priestess shook her head and backed away two paces so she could more easily address Seldaric. “I am known as Liloriel,” the elf said. “I studied under the sage, Jahre. The Scholar’s Keep holds many secrets. Among them, there is one that is extremely dangerous to all of the elf races upon the Elven Isles.” Liloriel gazed beyond Kai and Seldaric to look out the window. Then she stepped in close to Seldaric and looked into the elf’s eyes. “Did your grandfather ever tell you of the Tomni’Tai scroll?”

Seldaric’s eyes narrowed. He nodded once. Liloriel sighed and shifted her eyes to the floor.

“Your grandfather carried it with him. This is what the assassin sought.”

“For those of us who are not versed in the subject, and can’t read minds, would you mind explaining what this item is?” Kai called out.

Seldaric started to say something, but Liloriel held a hand up to silence him. “It is one of three relics that will open a gate to the Netherworld. If the assassin succeeds in opening it, he will unleash an unspeakable evil upon the Elven Isles, and it could mean our destruction.”

“What will it release, exactly?”

“A horde of Sierri’Tai. The remnants of the last clans that nearly destroyed us during King Lemork’s reign.”

Kai nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “No offense, but why would a human care about a group of banished drow?”

Seldaric spoke, almost in a whisper. “Because they shall subjugate themselves to whomever releases them. He would become their king.” He shook his head and wrinkled his nose. “Most of the elves do not talk about it. After the Sierri’Tai were banished, we never spoke of them openly again. I only know about it because my grandfather told me some of the history.”

“And yet, I am sure he withheld most of the information, even from you,” Liloriel said. “The Kruks are entrusted with the guardianship of this secret. We are trained from birth, selected by the elf high council, to be adept warrior-scholars with the singular aim of preventing any from attaining the relics. However, beyond the cursory knowledge that most elves have, we Kruks know every detail about the history of the Sierri’Tai, and the mysteries of the Netherworld Gate. We guard our knowledge to ensure no one learns more than they should.” Liloriel turned a hard eye on Seldaric. “I know that sometimes Jahre told too much to individuals at different times. I could never prove it, but I know he had confidantes beyond the Kruks. What did he tell you?” Liloriel stretched out her hand to touch Seldaric’s forehead.

Seldaric agreed with a respectful nod. “He only told me a portion of it,” he admitted. “But it was enough to understand the havoc the Sierri’Tai would unleash upon us if they were ever to be freed. He told me that we were losing the war, and that the Sierri’Tai would have enslaved or slain all of us, had it not been for their banishment. He didn’t tell me any more than that.”

Liloriel pulled her hand away and nodded with a solemn expression across her face. “Thank you.”

Kai whistled through his teeth. “And you are sure he was after this scroll that lets these drow free?” he asked Liloriel.

The elf nodded again. “I am certain. I came here after investigating the attack in Medlas. Whoever this man is, he is the most deadly force I have ever seen. He tore through the Scholar’s Keep like child’s play, without raising the alarm. I only escaped because he said he wouldn’t kill a woman.”

“He killed the other Svetli’Tai Kruks?” Seldaric asked incredulously.

Liloriel nodded slowly. “They all perished. Beyond that, I am certain I don’t have to describe the horrors I saw in Medlas.”

Ulthgaron cut in. “I explained what happened there,” he called out from the doorway.

She sighed once more. “We must stop him before he finds the other relics.”

“Do you know where they are?” Kai asked.

Liloriel nodded.

“Are you going to tell us?” Kai pressed.

“No,” Liloriel said with a single shake of her head. “As I said, only the Kruks know all of the secrets from that era. It is my duty to find the assassin now.” Liloriel turned back to Seldaric. “Thank you, for your information. I will take my leave now.”

“Where are you going?” Kai asked.

Liloriel didn’t respond.

Seldaric moved and put a hand on Kai’s shoulder, but the man shrugged it off.

“You are wounded. You can’t possibly expect to defeat him by yourself. I have seen this man fight. If you know where he is headed, then let us come with you.”

“You don’t understand what you ask,” Seldaric said through gritted teeth.

Liloriel turned around and looked at Kai. “Is your lust for revenge so strong?” she asked.

Kai stepped closer, fighting through Seldaric as the elf tried to stop him. “You need us.”

Liloriel laughed. “I am a Svetli’Tai Kruk priestess. I have command over other Kruk warriors.”

Kai shook his head. “No, you said you were the leader at Scholar’s Keep. That means all of your warriors are dead, killed by the assassin we all seek. You want him dead as much as I do.”

“No,” Liloriel said with a shake of her head. “I want him dead much more than you do.”

Kai sniggered and grinned slyly. “Then let us come.”

The two of them stood there for a moment, arguing silently with their eyes. At last, Liloriel nodded.

“Very well, you shall be allowed to accompany me. Get some rest, for tomorrow we shall head out to sea. I have contacts within the city. I will arrange for a crew in the morning and we will be on our way.”

Kai noticed the grim glance that Seldaric shot him before bowing to Liloriel. “We would be honored,” Seldaric said. “When do we set out?”

“In the morning,” Liloriel replied. “I suspect that the human assassin knows already where to go to find the other items. If you have not seen him for the last week, my guess is that he has managed to escape this land unnoticed.” She turned to leave. Kai watched how the robes gently swayed with her form as she walked. Liloriel paused in the doorway with a hand resting on the doorjamb. She turned and narrowed her eyes on Kai. The man shifted his weight and let out a self-conscious chuckle as he turned away and ran a hand through his hair. The Svetli’Tai Kruk priestess turned to Ulthgaron. “I visited Medlas after the attack on Scholar’s Keep. Priestess Syndriel gave me permission to take you with me.”

Ulthgaron bowed. “I am at your service, priestess.”

“You should know, Syndriel was most pleased with your actions. She commends you for your honor. She wanted me to tell you that the other Kruks in Medlas are busy rebuilding the city. She trusts that you will continue to show the same dedication you did on that day when you chased the assassin here to Bluewater.”

“I will serve until my dying breath,” Ulthgaron swore.

Liloriel gestured to Seldaric and Kai. “As you are the only true Kruk here, Ulthgaron, I entrust you will keep an eye on them for me until we are underway tomorrow?”

“As you say,” Ulthgaron replied dutifully.

Liloriel nodded and then left.

Ulthgaron stood in the doorway with his arms folded and his eyes on the floor as he muttered something about the cursed dark elves. He approached Seldaric and offered a hand to the elf. “Are you sure you want to come along?”