The Tomb of the Dark Paladin (22 page)

Genn's face seemed stern, too stern. The warrior-princess realized that the other woman was trying to hide her anguish.

"We have to go!" she said in a panicked voice, trying to gather up Carym's belongings. "They know; they know we are here!"

"Shouldn't we wait?" asked Hala despairingly. "Shouldn't we see if he comes back? He is a powerful Fyrbold!"

"We can't afford to! Umber's hunters know where we are. We cannot stay!"

Hala's mind knew there was wisdom in the woman's words, but her heart did not agree. Her eyes caught sight of the dagger, the one that Carym had pulled from his own body and flung across the room. She picked it up carefully, looking at the blade. It was an ugly weapon made by an unskilled hand, or so it seemed. It's blade was rough and hardly seemed sharp, the pommel and hilt were inscribed with scribbles that seemed more like a child's doodling than language, and it was heavier than any dagger should be. Still, she took the dark weapon and wrapped it in a cloth, not wiping Carym's blood from it. Then she put it reverently in her pack. 

"Gennevera, you may stay or go as you please. I will wait for three days for Carym and the others. After that I go to my homeland and carry on this quest, with or without you."

"Go, yes. But carry on?" Genn's anger sparked. "How? Carym is gone. What can we do without him?"

"We have no choice, Genn. We have to go to the Everpool. Bishop Rohan and Morgon both warned against allowing the dark forces to find it first. The sacred text hidden within the tomb cannot be allowed to fall into Umber's hands."

Genn visibly stiffened. "With whose army do you propose we use to find the Everpool, Princess?"

"With mine!"

C H A P T E R

N I N E

~

Zach detested elves, especially Carym's lover, Gennevera. Thus, he was none too pleased to learn that his new master, Shalthazar, was, in fact, an elf. Nevertheless, Shalthazar possessed power beyond Zach's reckoning. The Prophet-General possessed the ability to bestow some of that power on others; a fact that helped the assassin overlook the dark wizard's Elvish heritage. In fact, Shalthazar seemed to want to make Zach part of his own inner circle, perhaps in response to the assassin's delivery of the magical device so ardently sought for.

Zach wondered if the ultimate goal of this mission was to merely remove the nuisance witch from Shalthazar's presence. Zach wasn't happy with Shalthazar's decision to place him under Balzath's command. Although she was as beautiful as any woman he had known, she was definitely mad.

While Zach waited for his new mistress to deliver his orders, he wandered the battlements of the massive fortification known as Fort Ogrewall. The keep stood atop a large hill that been the site of a castle long ago. Though the keep was not situated at the base of the mountains, the Ogrewall Mountains towered into the air on the horizon. The mountaintops were close together, with long spikes soaring into the clouds, giving the appearance of a row of vicious fangs.

The keep itself was really a large military city and had been hastily constructed with wooden timbers taken from nearby towns or cut from the trees of the great forests. Part of the great keep was much like a castle while the rest was much like any city Zach had ever visited. The castle part, Garrison Headquarters, was being slowly built upon over the previous structure and Zach wondered how many years it would take to accomplish that task. He descended the battlements to the courtyard below where a number of troop buildings were found. These were shops and businesses that supported the troops throughout the keep. He passed by a long row of craftsmen and the resounding clang of the keep's armory drew his attention. Zach had always been interested in the craft of war and could not resist a visit to the smithy to watch him ply his trade. He stood on the street in front of the shop and enjoyed the warmer temperature created by the massive furnace and forge within.

This smithy was one of many that kept the troops of the great Nashian war machine moving and inside several apprentices went about their tasks with such skill and efficiency that Zach had to wonder if they were apprentices or if they were all master blacksmiths. Impressed by the display of the finishing touches put upon a finely crafted sword, Zach turned from the smithy and strolled down the street with a smile on his face.

After passing several more blacksmiths shops, each busier than any other type of shop Zach had seen, he happened upon the section of the keep with inns. Some of the inns were clearly for the accommodation of the officers and nobility of the Nashian Army while others seemed to be occupied by lower ranking members. In all, it seemed very much akin to the way in which the Arnathian Army did things. That was a sign that this was a trained and skilled army of veteran soldiers, one that would be difficult to beat on the field of battle.

Zach went inside an inn called 
Inn of the Last Ranger
. Rangers were a rare group of people, loners mostly; they tended to live deep within the wilderness and rarely visited civilization. Thus, he was intrigued by the name. Under the right circumstances, this inn might prove to be a valuable source of information. There were a variety of patrons inside including soldiers, villagers, a prostitute and some of the clergy of Ilian Nah. He seated himself at an open table by the hearth and enjoyed the warmth, listening to the conversations of those nearby while he waited for a server to bring him a mug of warm, spiced ale.

The conversations inside the inn did not carry much of interest to the assassin. The whore was looking for a soldier who would spend some coin on her, the soldiers were drinking and talking of whoring, the few farmers and locals that he saw kept very quiet and looked often at the soldiers. Zach wasn't surprised by this. From what he had seen, the Nashians were not as well respected by their subjugated peoples as he had heard. While most people seemed pleased with the advent of paved roads and improved trade, the strict code of behavior required by the Nashians was anathema to what most of these free people believed.

Zach drank one ale and decided to leave. There was little of value to learn from this inn. As he walked out into the cool air, he spied a trio of local men walking towards him that his instincts told him would be of interest. But, as much as he wished to spy upon the men who appeared to be foresters, he did not have time to tarry. Zach placed his hand on
Morloth
as he walked by the trio and listened to them mutter and grumble about the Nashians. Other than some derogatory comments about their new rulers, the only thing of interest that he heard were the names of two of the men: Tharas and Seth. Zach filed that away in his memory and hoped he would have another chance to visit this inn that was named for rangers. Zach continued on his way through Fort Ogrewall, passing by the brothels and other shops.

Like any large military force, this one needed women for a variety of reasons. Keeping the brothels full and flowing with coin was one reason. But other women provided more material services such as the seamstresses who kept the uniforms of the soldiers ready for the next battle, or the women who slaved in the kitchens to keep the soldiers fed while they were in garrison. Finding little of interest within town, he made his way back to Garrison Headquarters. He stopped at the portcullis and waited for the armed men to confirm his status. While Zach waited, a pair of knights approached the gate. Stunned, he recognized the armor that the knights wore. These were Zuharim! Clearly they belonged in Fort Ogrewall for none challenged them and the guards let them through without question. The presence of Zuharim Knights confirmed the rumors about the downfall of their ancient order. After a few moments the guards let Zach inside and escorted him to his quarters.

His quarters were bleak in typical soldier fashion, little more than a room with a cot, but he looked forward to sleeping dry. He lay down on his cot and thought about what was to come. The first part of this group's mission required traveling to the dominion of the ogre tribes high up in the mountain passes. Shalthazar wanted to persuade the ogres to join the coming war on the side of the Prophet-General. Zach wasn't sure how they were going to persuade the fickle ogres to do anything that they didn't want to do and wondered what exactly Shalthazar hoped to gain from them. It wasn't likely that they would enter any conflict without strong incentive; he wondered what the dark elf had in mind. Just as he began to sink into unconscious sleep, Balzath threw open the door and walked in.

"These are my quarters, Balzath. You can't just--" he groaned, annoyed. The witch cut him off.

"Yes, yes. How very nice, dear." Balzath placed her hand under his chin to look him in the eyes. Zach felt a slight tingling sensation and his vision became cloudy as pain raced through his skull. "I come and go as I please," the witch said sweetly, her bosom scant inches from his face. He was exceedingly annoyed that she would barge into his room and place a spell upon him. "And I just know you are happy to see me. So, let's go on a little trip!"

With that, the woman released Zach and skipped out of his room like a young girl. Zach shook his head as he gathered his things and followed. He looked forward to returning to Fort Ogrewall after this dubious mission so he could begin performing his new duties, he only hoped that he would someday be ordered to assassinate Balzath.

The witch led Zach to the stables where there were four horses saddled and ready for travel. Two of them were already mounted, their riders looking down upon Zach with disdain. Balzath and Zach climbed onto their mounts and the witch led the way out of the town. The traveling companions were silent. Zach thought it odd that Balzath did not tell him who these two men were. One of them looked familiar but Zach decided it would be better not to ask, they would reveal their identities to him soon enough. 

The journey to the edge of Nashian held territory was uneventful and only took two days. The road between Fort Ogrewall and the foot of the Ogrewall Mountains was straight and controlled completely by Nashian Forces. Once they reached the foothills, however, the going became more difficult. A gradual increase in their elevation as they neared the mountains demonstrated that winter was not prepared to relinquish its icy grasp here.

The road ascended through the foothills and became more treacherous as it steadily narrowed to little more than a footpath, forcing the group to walk their horses. Giant boulders protruded from the ground like spines on the back of a dragon, true dragons were said to dwell in the high places of the Ogrewall Mountains. Zach recalled his encounter with the wasp dragon in the Underllars, which was something like a giant scorpion with the wings and the personality of an angry hornet. But true dragons were said to be great flying serpents, sinister and powerful. They were intelligent, cunning, and capable of great feats of trickery and magic. Shalthazar had foreseen that there might be some dangerous encounters through the pass and ordered two more to join their party. The first was Urelis. Zach thought the man was a sniveler, always worried about the state of his clothes and the set of his long blond hair. He was a something of a dandy in fact, yet he assumed there had to be something more substantial beneath the man's obsessive surface.

The other new member of the group was a priest called Ebonaar. Ebonaar was a truly loathsome fellow. He was bald and ugly and had beady eyes which were always darting about. The man carried a shiny black staff topped with a ram's head always gripped in his right hand, a hand that was actually a scaly lizard-like claw. Zach grimly recalled that he had been present when this malevolent priest had lost his hand. Ebonaar had assaulted him and Carym in Dockyard City. When Ebonaar cast a hideous spell, a screeching magical skull that sailed through the air, Carym struck the man's hand from his arm with a sword slash. Although the dark priest had escaped with his life, he nursed a vile hatred of Carym for his injury. When Ebonaar recognized that Zach had been a party to his disfigurement, he extended this hatred to the assassin.