The Staff of Sakatha (24 page)

“I’m well aware …,” said the sibilant voice that slowly trailed off into the distance as the creatures continued their conversation, but Sorus could no longer hear them.

The hours passed slowly after that and the young knight of Elekargul began to get cramps in his left calf at about the same times the ants penetrated his defenses and began to clamor up his right leg. He gritted his teeth and bore the discomfort for a time but began to shift restlessly as the minutes dragged slowly by. “It’s been like eight hours,” he said to himself in a small whisper but a look at the shadows cast by the trees told a different story. “By the Mare, not even midday yet,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll be bitten to death by the time they get back.” After a bit longer he decided to change the dressing on his wounded head and carefully unwrapped the bandage, put a splash of the liquor on it, which almost made him shriek in agony, and then tried to rewrap it. The bleeding seemed to have stopped at least, although as soon as the sharp pain cooled, the dull ache returned.

More time dragged by with no sign of any activity when he suddenly felt a strange presence in the clearing and then a tall shadow fell across it as he peered through the rocks and held his breath.

“Lord Whitebone,” said a quiet voice that sounded like the snake creature but might not be the same as the one earlier.

“Speak serpent mage,” said a cold voice without any inflexion.

“This is where the second group of knights camped,” said the snake creature. “Our goblin servants attacked them in the night, slew one of their numbers, and took the map. I fear that there will soon be more of them in the region. They know about the Staff of Sakatha and clearly have their own designs upon it.”

“The survivors fled?” said Whitebone.

“That is accurate, Lord Whitebone,” said the snake mage in its sibilant voice. “I sent some of the goblins down after them to make sure they did indeed move off the mountain. But, as I said, I’m sure they will return with reinforcements. My own darkling allies are unreliable on the surface. If you could loan me some of your undead warriors I might make an effective defense.”

“The first group you captured,” said the first voice as the two suddenly moved into the clearing and gave Sorus his first look at the skeletal master, Lord Whitebone. He looked like a normal man with a heavy cloak, boots, and thick gloves but one look at the skull that served as his head made it clear this was not the case. Sorus again managed to keep his gasp mostly muffled but for a moment it appeared the strange boney creature looked in his direction.

“Sadly, my message of their capture was premature, Lord Whitebone,” said the snake beast. “The entire group died in the battle along with a number of darklings and the last of the dragon children. We no longer have access to the dreams of the great green dragon.”

Whitebone turned to the creature and stared at him for a long minute and even Sorus could see a faint red glow around the eye orbitals. “I want the creatures that killed my dragon, serpent priest. You can have the staff for your own ends if you desire, but I shall have vengeance upon those that slew my dragon.”

The snake mage gave a strange little hissing sort of laugh and flicked its tongue out several times, “As you wish Lord Whitebone. I can bring forward the slave who stumbled across the scene of your pet’s death but there are no witnesses as to the men who did it.”

“That is not good enough,” said Whitebone. “Once you have the staff you have in your power the ability to raise great Sakatha not as an undead minion to that vile creature in the Abyss but as a living dragon child capable of leading your people in the new empire. Great Sakatha has much knowledge of the Old Empire buried in his brain and this is an incalculable advantage.”

“I am not a child of the dragon,” said the snake creature. “I am a child of great Nechustan the World Snake. The children of dragons are our slaves and have been ever since the fall of the Old Empire.”

“Of course,” said Whitebone with a strange little bow. “How terribly ignorant of me to forget that fact. Yet, you work with the lizards who want the staff to bring back Sakatha as a living entity.”

“Just as you work with the Mistress of the Abyss who wants to bring back Sakatha in his undead state and thus increase her own power,” said the snake creature. “We are all looking for our own advantage; perhaps you and I can work together in this case. I do not wish either your mistress or the lizards to have the staff. My people want it for another purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?” said Lord Whitebone as he turned to face his companion.

“I am not willing to divulge that Lord Whitebone,” the snake man replied, “perhaps if you told me your own plans for the thing I might prove more accommodating.”

Whitebone laughed, a clack of sorts, and shook his head no, “A valid argument. No, I do not want the staff in the hands of the eternal ruler of the Abyss. You haven’t seen a dark cloud of a creature named Tenebrous hanging about by any chance?”

The child of Nechustan shook its head for a moment, “I’ve heard the name but never had the pleasure of meeting the thing myself. I understand it escaped from the Deathlands a dozen times before the Mistress of the Abyss allowed it stay?”

“I’m not particularly familiar with its history,” said Whitebone with a shrug. “In any case, if you see the creature, inform it that I want a meeting with it.”

“As you command, Lord Whitebone,” said the snake beast starting to say something else when the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from down the path. Within a few moments the footsteps came close, then suddenly stopped and although Sorus could not see the creature, a third party joined the conversation.

It began to speak in some sort of strange language that Sorus did not understand, but the snake creature gave it a sharp rebuke and it then started talking with a strange accent in the language of the local traders. “Master Shill, Master Shill,” said the voice.

“What is it?” said the snake.

“They return, the big one and the freerider,” said the voice. “They come quickly, they surprised us, they killed …,” it went on apparently ready to continue its speech.

“I do not care who they killed,” said the snake creature. “Lord Whitebone, we must make haste back to the old ruin before they catch us here.”

The skeletal creature looked at the snake man for a moment, then turned his gaze to the hastily constructed cairn, looked around in all directions and, for a moment, his hot red eyes seemed to come to rest on the exact spot where Sorus lay hidden. “I,” it said, “I sense something.”

“We cannot wait,” said the snake creature.

“They’re coming,” said the goblin, its voice quaking with fear, “you didn’t see the big one with his awful sword, Smasher. He killed my brother!”

Whitebone waited a moment longer, his terrible gaze finally lifted from Sorus’s hidden spot, and darted to a small rocky outcropping above them, but then nodded his head. He started to say something but turned with a twirl of his heavy cloak and the group was gone from Sorus’s vision. Just a few minutes later Jon and Proteus trotted up the trail, their horses making enough noise to wake the dead.

Jon came into the clearing first and looked around, “Sorus? Did it work?”

Sorus popped his head out from the rocks, a huge grin on his face. “Better than I ever imagined,” he said and then began to slap at his leg where apparently the entire colony of ants had decided to roost. “I’m infested!”

“We should attack the little village and slay them all,” said Melharras Yushhha as his spectacularly bedecked uniform glistened in the sunlight that shone at the edge of the large cavern. The less finely dressed priest of Sakatha, Usharra Dushallama, stood a step back in the shadows and the sounds of reptile men filtered from further back in the cave.

“Our job,” said Usharra not for the first time, “is to get to the Mountains of the Orc where the dreams of Chusaursea guide us to the Staff of Sakatha. It is not to engage the Freeriders in battle.”

“Battle,” said Melharras with a sneer as his lips curled back and exposed long, sharp teeth. “They are but women and children. The scout told us that two days ago when he first encountered the little village. Their warriors wait in the flats, bicker with one another, and stink so foully that the birds refuse to nest in the trees near them. We descend on the village, take a few prisoners, then lure the men into an ambush and kill them all. It is a simple matter really,” finished the general with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

“And when the entire nation of Freeriders comes to avenge this affront?” said Usharra.

“We shall already be in the Mountains of the Orc with the Staff of Sakatha in our possession. With the staff you, no doubt, can wield enough power to defeat such simple barbarians,” said the general and smiled at the priest. “I grow weary of traveling at night and avoiding detection by these people. They are weak and need to feel the poison of our bite!”

“Moving this many warriors at night to avoid alerting the inhabitants of this land are our orders nevertheless,” said the priest with a shrug of his soldiers. “The Mountains of the Orc are but two or three more nights of travel ahead. Perhaps you can cool your fighting ardor until then. I suspect that your soldiers will find themselves with quite a bit to do once we arrive in the mountains.”

“I find your cowardice quite distasteful,” said General Melharras in a rather bored tone, “and I shall report such when we return to Darag’dal.”

“I would think your braggadocio might be lessened after watching a third of your fighting force drown off the coast last week,” said High Priest Usharra in an equally bored tone of voice.

“Warriors die,” said Melharras as he turned to face the priest. “A veteran like me knows that most of them die of disease or mishap and only the smallest percentage die in combat or of their wounds. Besides, many of them managed to swim to the other two ships so it was hardly a third of my entire force.”

“Your compassion for your fellow soldiers is admirable,” said Usharra and turned away from the general with a shake of his head.

“Your foolish sentimentality is distressing, Usharra,” said Melharras as he followed the priest and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “We are here to do a job and that is all. If men die then they die. If you die then I take command. Now that we’re off those vessels I allow you to command, but I will tolerate it for only so much longer. If I wished to kill the women and children of that town I would do so and there is nothing you can do to stop me. Have I made myself clear to you, priest?”

“I understood you from the very beginning of this operation, general,” said Usharra and brushed the hand off his shoulder with a sudden movement. “While I understand that setting aside our differences is impossible, I do think we must coordinate our ascent of the mountain. I find the dreams of the Toxic One most erratic of late and particularly unhelpful. We need to make a plan in the event we cannot immediately find the Staff of Sakatha. I have strong indications that there are others interested in the item and they will fight us for it.”

“If you find the dreams difficult to interpret then I suppose Chusarausea chooses that to be the case,” said the general with a smile that revealed his long rows of sharp teeth. He put his hand on his sword hilt, “I take it as a sign that you’ve fallen out of favor with the dragon and with the tribal elders. That being the case, I see no real reason you are of use to this expedition at all.” With that the tall reptile pulled out his sword and took a step back.

Usharra took three steps back himself, raised his hands, and began to mutter magical words when a low cough interrupted them.

The general turned towards a smallish reptile man with scales colored largely a dull gray with a few patches of black, “What do you want?”

“It’s that reconnaissance you sent out, general,” said the boy with a squeak in his voice. “They met up with some Freeriders and there was a battle.”

“What reconnaissance?” said Usharra.

The boy looked at the priest, his eyes wide and then looked back at the general but said nothing.

“Damn you Melharras, if you destroyed our chance to get the staff in order to gain some personal glory I’ll …,” he stood for a moment incapable of putting thoughts to words as the heavily armed general stood ready to strike with his sword.

“You’ll what?” said the red and purple scaled warrior, “you’ll nothing. Sound the conchs,” he said and turned to the young soldier. “We’ll kill these Freeriders and then travel during the day to the Mountains of the Orc like proud warriors, not like snakes slinking to their nest.”

The boy ran off at a gallop and the general turned to Usharra. “I should just kill you now, but my troops need me. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be gone by the time we get back from killing the Freeriders. I’d offer to bring back one of their women for you but I’m not sure that’s to your taste.” With that the general followed the boy back into the cave although the sounds of conch shells already echoed back and forth along the passage.

“By Sakatha that fool will kill us all,” said Usharra to himself. “I must gather the loyal priests and the naval crew. We need to head directly to the mountains or all is lost!”

“Where did they get themselves to?” said Odellius his breath coming in heavy pants as he and a dozen other knights of Elekargul stopped for a moment in their chase.

“I don’t know,” said Thaddeus. “Once the mayor joined us, who knows why he left the safety of town in the first place, things have been a shambles. That damn fool just charged after them into the darkness. We need to coordinate, but nobody is listening. We’re all on our civilian twelve month and no one wants to take orders from anyone else. We don’t have a command structure.”

“I know Thaddeus, I know. How many men followed the mayor after the creatures?” he said with a shake of his head as his breath slowly returned to a normal pattern.

“At least half of us,” said the hobgoblin brew master as he also shook his head and fingered the sword at his side.

“All right,” said Odellius and put his hand to his massive stomach. “Get everyone who is left gathered and we’ll advance silently. If those lobsters jump into a pot of trouble we’ll hear the fighting and charge up as a reserve force.”