The Unknown Man: Book 1 in The Keepers of the Orbs Series (21 page)

Humidity filled the air, making Eldrin's clothes feel damp as they clung to his skin. Eldrin’s irritation with the orb had grown ever more since he came upon the Ruvenka Mountains yesterday evening. So far, his group had found no signs of the Humans who had supposedly traveled through the area.

Itching to find some sort of progress, Eldrin ordered the Minotaurs to break camp before the sun crept high in the sky. The troops marched south and Eldrin surveyed the landscape stretching out before him. He reached up to his forehead and wiped sweat away from his brow with the back of his hand, disgusted it could be so hot this early in the morning. The Minotaurs grew restless, itching for some sort of combat. Eldrin couldn’t blame them, but thanks to the Dwarf, he knew the path they followed was the right one.

He was about to order the group to stop for lunch when movement on the horizon caught his attention. They still had a long ride ahead of them, but this raised his hopes and he urged the group to press on. They continued far longer than Eldrin anticipated, but finally they spotted the source of the movement. At first Eldrin sunk back in his saddle thinking it had been nothing—seeing as how it was only a horse—but then something else caught his attention. Eldrin noticed the horse’s shoes. Normally it wouldn’t be of any interest; however, this far from civilization horses would be wild and without shoes. The knowledge that this horse must be linked to the people he was in pursuit of invoked a sudden adrenaline-induced vigor.

Renewed, he increased his team’s hunt—realizing the keepers had to be close—they actively searched for clues. After an hour of looking, they stumbled across a small stream cascading down the edge of the mountains before continuing south. Eldrin ordered his men to stop to eat and drink. The Minotaurs tore into meat stinking of decay, seeming to enjoy it, making Eldrin's stomach turn.

He leaned over the bank and poured as much water over his head as he could. With the heat of the day, the ice-cold water felt very refreshing.  He searched and rummaged in his bag for something to eat, when a large commotion came from the waterfall. He shot his gaze toward the sound, surprised to see two Humans in full plate armor charging toward them. His troops were caught off guard and struggled to take up their arms. After the first two Humans stormed out of their hiding spot, two more followed.

Eldrin jumped to his feet and barked orders to his troops. They stumbled to prepare themselves as one of the creatures was cut down by the first two keepers. The Minotaur lost an arm and howled in pain as another sword thrust through his chest; blood coursing out of the wound. Another Minotaur pulled out two very large axes and charged toward the two keepers responsible for the fallen creature. He moved with a deftness and speed which could only come from one of his species.

Eldrin noticed this act and used the distraction to ready himself. He reached deep inside himself and found the energy he was trained to harness. He let lose fireballs and electrical charges, lighting up the already bright sky as he noticed two more Humans emerge from their hiding place behind the falls.

The Humans charged toward him and he unleashed the full force of his spark. The first soldier erupted in a wall of flame, screaming as his plate armor melted and burned into his skin. He fell over and rolled around, trying to diminish the fire. His efforts only lasted a few seconds though, as the pain overwhelmed him and he became motionless. Eldrin sent another stream of crackling energy toward the second keeper. He looked shocked when the stream quickly ricocheted off some sort of invisible barrier. The soldier grinned and his eyes lit up as he continued his charge. Eldrin stepped back awestruck, trying to find the dagger he carried as his only weapon. He pulled it out and readied himself while barking for assistance from the remaining Minotaurs. He knew he didn’t stand much of a chance facing off with a battle-trained soldier who had a full-length sword at his disposal.

The battle wore on and casualties were taken on both sides. Soon only one foe remained and Eldrin approached him cautiously. He waited for the Human and used his quick Elven speed to dodge the blow of the sword, countering with an attack and slicing his neck.

The remaining keeper fell to the ground, lifeless with blood trickling out of his mouth. With the Humans defeated, Eldrin quickly approached the waterfall and stuck his arm through the cascading flow. He wasn’t surprised to find where there should have been a stone wall, he encountered no resistance, just thin air. He walked through and into a large cavernous room. Inside, torches were lit and he noticed many of the soldiers' belongings littering the floor. He knew the orb had to be hidden in this room. He noticed a pyre in the center of the room. This is where they had burned their fires the previous nights, so they wouldn’t risk alerting any to their presence. As he began pulling logs from the pyre, he noticed something that stretched a satisfied smile across his face. It was a sealed wooden crate. He quickly pulled away more logs and snatched up the crate. At the knowledge that the object had to be the orb, his body filled with all-encompassing joy. After searching for a week, he finally found what he looked for. He pulled out the wooden chest and marveled at the ornately carved images festooning the box.

He released the latch on the case and slowly cracked open the lid. Even with the torches lit inside the room, a bright yellow light filled the cave as Eldrin laid his eyes on the orb. As he caught his first glimpse, awe filled him. His black eyes twinkled with the reflecting, yellow light. He wanted nothing more than to reach down and embrace the energy this item contained, but his satisfaction at succeeding forced him to sadly close the box.

He climbed out of the stream and walked onto the riverbank, where he caught the attention of the Minotaur who served as captain of his troops. He held the wooden crate high above his head in exuberance. A mouth filled with many sharp and jagged teeth stretched into what could be a smile across the captain's face, but quickly diminished as he returned his gaze to the heap of dead corpses burning in the inferno behind him. Eldrin felt bad about what would happen next, but knew speed was of the utmost importance. This Minotaur, after all, saved his life, but he needed to return the orb to Lutheras as quickly as possible.

Eldrin wheeled around and pulled out his dagger. He reluctantly put the case containing the orb on the ground. Having so much power in his hands, he wanted to embrace it, be consumed by it, but it wasn’t his place and he knew it. He took one last glance over his shoulder at the Minotaurs, but they unfortunately couldn’t travel through the conjured portals he could create. He uttered the incantation and thrust his dagger deep into the mountainside. He quickly carved out a doorway. He always marveled at this ability, and as it winked into existence, he stared into the throne room of the palace in Korloth. He picked the case up off the ground, and with it in his hands, he stepped exultantly through the gate.

He still hated traveling this way—it left his stomach in knots and made him feel sick—but nothing could beat the speed of the portals. His feet hit the stone floor adorning the palace throne room, and he felt an overwhelming sense of pride. In his master's anger, he had been sent on an almost impossible task. Against all odds, he had prevailed and it pleased him greatly. He glanced around the room, trying to find Lutheras.

He spotted him in the distance, standing with Tuk on the other side of a table littered with maps. At the appearance of the portal, he caught the attention of Lutheras. He looked angry and ready to release his wrath on the next person who approached him, but his face lightened as he spotted Eldrin. He noticed what Eldrin carried in his arms, and Lutheras’ eyes grew large like a child who set his eyes on a new toy that he longed to have. He spun around the table and started walking—almost running—in Eldrin’s direction.

He drew closer and said, “Eldrin my friend, tell me what you carry is the orb. Tell me you have triumphed where so many others have failed.” He walked over and grabbed the case from Eldrin's hands—his eyes filled with lust and greed. He immediately recognized the inscriptions on the case, as well as the power flowing into his hands almost instantly, and he licked his lips salaciously. He stared deep into Eldrin's eyes with a look of ecstasy, which quickly transformed into a smile. “I knew you wouldn’t fail me.” He turned and strode back over to the table, cradling the wooden crate as if it were his newborn child.

He set the case on the table and gingerly unfastened the clasps before slowly lifting the lid. The yellow light from the orb flushed in his face and cascaded into the room. Eldrin followed him to the table. He took a position next to his master and stared intently at the orb while Lutheras lifted it out of the box. Just gazing upon it, he could feel the energy emanating from within it, and he watched agog.

Lutheras tore his attention from the orb—which was difficult—to look at Eldrin. “Do you know what this orb contains?” Eldrin shook his head. He had no idea what could be accomplished with the orb. “With this orb, we’ll no longer have to raise additional troops to replace those who have died. I will be able to raise the dead.” He patted the orb. “Their soul is lost, but they become the perfect soldier. They will listen to any command, and obey without hesitation. They will no longer feel pain and will be able to fight on, long after they should have fallen.” His eyes grew large. “With this, there will be no one, and I mean no one, who will be able to stop our forces.”

Eldrin bowed his head toward Lutheras. “I’m glad my deeds have pleased you, my master. It wasn’t easy. They had it hidden well, but I’m glad I could bring it back to you.” Eldrin grew tired of the idle chitchat—his eyes hungered for battle and taking another step toward utter control of Nithor. “My question to you, Lutheras, is where do we attack next?”

They rode all morning in cooler and overcast conditions. The rains had relented, and they were all pleased to ride in a drier setting. By their best calculations, they would arrive at the pass leading deep inside the Ruvenkas at some point during the day, putting their nerves on edge. Tirene felt the mood around him, and decided he would do his best to try to lighten it. At first he told a couple of jokes, but they weren't very good and did nothing much to help ease everyone's anxious attitudes. When they made their break for lunch though, he began sharing what he’d learned of them all so far on the journey. The stories themselves weren’t much, but what they revealed was important. He had found a way to show each of them how far they’d come, all they’d done together.  Liniana couldn’t help but sit in wonder of yet another side to this complex man. He thanked each of them for their bravery thus far, and told them he felt proud to be in their company. This did help liven the mood, and as they ate, more stories came out and comradery shared. By the time they had finished their lunch, everyone was somewhat back to normal, and Matt and Jaeden had returned to razzing one another.

Tirene didn’t look forward to facing the Dwarves, but he did his best to not let it show on his face. He wanted his plan to succeed, and if the Dwarves didn’t comply, it would throw a huge hurdle into his path—one he didn’t want to face. If they were turned away, they would have to face the harsh reality that their cause might be lost.

Tirene let his eyes drift to the sky. Earlier in the day, he had noticed several eagles following them. He spotted two of them, and as he looked to the sky now he spotted one in the air circling, the other perched on the limb of a large oak tree. It watched their movements, which Tirene found odd. Normally birds of prey stalked their meals and nothing else, and it felt as if these birds tracked their movements. Shivers ran through Tirene's body. He tried to ignore the birds’ odd behaviors and set about focusing on the road ahead of them.

After a few hours of riding, and a definite increase in temperature as the afternoon grew long, their path came to a crossroads with another path running east-west. No signage or anything indicated where the path led, but they had to assume this road would lead to the mountain tunnels of the Dwarves. As far as all of them were aware, no path existed this far south that would lead into the Ruvenka Mountains.

Tirene slowed and let the others gather around him. “This must be the path we’re after. It came upon us faster than I would’ve imagined, but I know of no other roads leading into the Ruvenka Mountains.” He looked around to each of the other three. They all nodded their agreement. “If you all agree, then we’ll journey east and start the climb into the mountains.”

They nodded their heads in approval, working to suppress the nerves dangling in front of this next trek. Tirene led his gelding onto the road leading east—the other three following behind him. The road looked to be untraveled. The dirt on the road looked pitted from previous rains, and it left a lot of loose gravel. After a while, the road increased in gradient as it became much steeper. With all of the loose rock, the climb became treacherous for the horses, and the party had to slow their pace.

The road continued its steep climb with the path beginning to zigzag from side to side, accommodating the altitude increase. From its time of neglected use, the road narrowed at many points. If the Dwarves were ever going to mount an attack using this road as its main form of travel, they would have to spend a lot of time upgrading it. Luckily, for them, they had many tunnels coming out at various points throughout the mountain. Most of these access points were unknown to any race outside of the Dwarves. Given the current state of inter-race communications, they understood why the neglect had built up on this road.

The sun had disappeared behind the Ruvenka Mountains when the path took one last turn, and then straightened out. They could see the ground ahead of them widen and beyond that, two towers stood beside a gate. A battlement sat above the closed gate.

They lined up four abreast on the road and the tension in Tirene's stomach mounted. His plan had to work. They were too late in the day to begin the journey back down the mountain. As they continued their approach, a bugle trumpeted somewhere up above them on the battlement. Orders were issued and could be heard when the bugle quieted.

They reached the gate and a stocky, but formidable-looking Dwarf stepped out of the guard tower and approached them. He wore a long red, braided beard stretching toward the ground. 

They could see other Dwarves up on the battlement peering down, trying to get a better look at who approached. The Dwarf sidled up to the four newcomers where he bowed to all of them. “What are the likes of the four of you doing here? You need to leave, and I suggest you do it now.”

Tirene dismounted and the others followed suit. He returned the stocky Dwarf's bow and said, “I thank you for greeting us, my good Dwarf. We’re on a quest and hope to secure passage through Drognard at the graciousness of the Ironhammer Dwarves. It’s of the utmost importance we reach the other side, and allowing us to use your tunnels will save us over three weeks’ time.” The Dwarf let out a guffaw as Tirene finished speaking. Before he could offer anything more, Tirene spoke up again. “If you deny us passage, I’m afraid the effect on the whole world would be cataclysmic. I urge you to consider our request.” He bowed to the Dwarf again to emphasize he understood his lower position.

He still laughed at Tirene's words. “You presume too much, Human. I think we’ll be just fine here deep below the mountain. We do well to stay out of the goings-on of others, like the Humans.” Two other Dwarves came stumbling out of the guard tower. They were in a rush to reach the discussion. “I see no reason to allow you to pass through our tunnels.”

The other two Dwarves were almost upon them when Tirene said, “I beg you to reconsider. I travel with Liniana,” He pointed to her, “Who is the daughter-heir of Havenbrook. When Lord Brukahn dies, the lands will be under her control. This act today could go a long way to smooth ties between the Dwarves and the Humans—at least with the people of Havenbrook.” He stared intently at the Dwarf.

The Dwarf eyed her up and down for a long period. “I still don’t know if that has any meaning to me and I’m reluctant to...” The stumbling Dwarves had reached them and conversed with the first Dwarf for a moment off to the side. His eyes grew large at what they whispered into his ears and his attention shifted to Tirene. “What is your breastplate made of? It isn’t a common metal, and I’m surprised to see you bearing it.” He noticed a small smirk cross Tirene's face. “And that sword you have sheathed, do you mind if we examine it?”

This is what Tirene had hoped for. He had examined both pieces, and his gut told him Dwarves crafted them; although he didn’t know how he knew this. He didn’t want to flaunt them, but if Liniana's position as daughter-heir hadn’t budged them, he was glad their curiosity had gotten the best of them. He would let them make the decision for him and he would know for sure.

“Of course you can examine my sword.” He pulled it from the sheath and held it out, laid across his two hands as he presented it to them. The first Dwarf accepted the blade into his hands and Tirene could tell an immediate sense of awe overcome him. One of the others ran his thumb over the blade, and he winced when he cut it open. “This sword, as well as my armor, I believe, are crafted of Ruvenkan steel.” He watched the three Dwarves to see their expressions.

The main Dwarf stopped marveling over the blade. “You lie! These items cannot be crafted of Ruvenkan steel.” He paused and let his attention drift from the sword to Tirene. “If these were Ruvenkan, they would’ve been crafted by the Ironhammer Dwarves. I’m in my two hundred and twenty-first year and would’ve remembered them. I don’t recognize the items and we haven’t crafted
anything
for Humans in hundreds of years.” His focus returned to the blade. “Now tell me what are these items made of?” His glare was icy.

Tirene tried to figure out how to handle the Dwarf. “I swear what I’ve said I believe to be the truth. With that being said, the Ironhammer Dwarves would have to be the ones to have constructed them. Who else could create such a fine blade and armor that is almost impenetrable?” The Dwarves smiled at his compliment. “If you’ll allow us access into your city, I will allow any of your smiths to examine all of the items I have. This should be enough to prove to you I mean what I say.”

The three Dwarves huddled in a discussion between themselves, and an argument ensued. After much deliberation, the first Dwarf turned to them all and said, “Although I disagree, some of my compatriots wish that we take you up on your offer.” He harrumphed and continued. “We’ll escort you inside where your claims will be validated. If what you say is true and these items are Ruvenkan, I will approach the council to see if they will allow you access to proceed. If your claims are proved false, then we’ll turn you back out our doors.” A grin crossed the Dwarf's face. “So I hope for your sake what you say is true.”

The Dwarf turned to the guardhouses and yelled something to the others. None of the party spoke the Dwarven tongue, but Tirene assumed he ordered the gate opened.

The first Dwarf turned back to confront Tirene. “As much as I’m against this plan because I don’t believe you, I should divulge who I am, my name is Yordrinn Morpel.” He pointed to Liniana. “I know her name, what is yours?”

Tirene smiled at Yordrinn. “My name is Tirene. This is Matt.” He used his hand to point at Matt. “And the young man is Jaeden.” He inclined his head. “I know you don’t believe my story now, but I will tell you that you will be surprised once the sword is authenticated.”

Yordrinn turned to Tirene. “I hope you’re correct. If you would all follow me.” He turned and walked through the large gate.

As Jaeden started to climb back in his saddle, Tirene ordered him to remain afoot. He brought the boy close and whispered to him. “The Dwarves don’t ride on horses. They don’t trust another creature to be their feet, so they walk. To honor their ways, we’ll lead our horses and walk.”

Jaeden looked a little ashamed having not known about this custom, but stopped mounting and grabbed his horse’s reins. This act seemed to satisfy Yordrinn. “How do you remember that, but not your name?” he grumbled beneath his breath.

“That is correct, boy, we don’t ride any beast. It’s just not natural to trust your movements to a creature when you can react better using your own two feet.” He paused and laughed at Jaeden. “Besides, it looks as if a little walking might be good for you. You look a little scrawny and could use the benefit of a little hard labor.”

Jaeden's face turned beet red at the jibe. He started to step forward to react, but Tirene put his arm out to stop his advance and gave him a hard look. He stopped and followed behind the others.

They walked through the large iron gates, and Tirene noticed the thick portcullis— thicker than anything he had ever seen before. He knew he had visited the Ironhammer Dwarves before, but he didn’t recollect traveling through these gates. Tirene stared in awe at the entrance into the Dwarven lands, such a contrast after seeing the state of the road leading them there.

After they were all clear of the gate, it re-lowered, hitting the ground with a rumble that shook their feet, and locked into place with a loud clank. They walked for a couple hundred paces and rounded the edge of the mountain. Two large stone doors sat in the closed position. The doors were each fifteen feet wide, but their height mesmerized him. They were at least fifty feet tall with ornate carvings.

The group reached the door and observed a sliding panel hidden in the carving. Yordrinn rapped on the panel—the sliding panel made little noise at all, but it must have been enough to alert the Dwarves who stood inside—the panel slid open and revealed a pair of eyes. The eyes darted between the various members of the party, coming to stop on Yordrinn and the other Dwarves.

Yordrinn spoke, “Open the door. I’m escorting these Humans into the city. You have my approval.”

The panel slid shut again. Tirene could hear the faint sounds of latches clicking on the inside of the door before they slid open and stopped, just wide enough for them to pass through. Tirene spotted a number of guards with axes at the ready, waiting for them inside. Yordrinn again reiterated they should feel at ease, and the guards relaxed their hold on their weapons, but their eyes spoke of another story. They stood back and let the entire party move in.

The doors slammed shut behind them, startling Jaeden, who jumped. This got the attention of a couple of the guards and they chuckled, angering Jaeden once again. He didn’t react this time and tried to shrug it off.

Tirene looked around the chamber they walked into. It felt as large as the doors let on. To the left stood a metal railing running the length of the hall. Behind there was a deep chasm that fell off below. Tirene walked over to the railing and peered over the side where he could see an orange glow running the length of the chasm.

“That is a river of lava flowing through the caverns. It’s what gives us all of our warmth, especially in the winter time when the snow piles up.” He turned and walked down the hall. The other Dwarves still ogled the group, but they returned to their posts. Yordrinn noticed none of the Humans followed him. “You gonna stand there looking around or are you gonna follow me?” They struggled tearing their gaze away from the setting.