Valorian (37 page)

Valorian felt Hunnul's vast strength surge through him as hot and vivid as lightning. He realized, with a start of surprise, that traces of the lightning bolt's power were still within his horse. He hadn't noticed it before because he had been concentrating on Hunnul's mind, but now as he drew energy from the stallion's muscle, bone, and blood he could feel the crackling touch of the lightning sizzle through his every fiber.

Borne on the power of the black stal ion, Valorian sent his consciousness questing out of his body to find the soul of the dead warrior beside him. He didn't know what to expect by such an attempt, or if it was even possible to separate his mind from his body. Yet with the magic, it seemed to work. He felt himself become weightless and lose all sense of feeling as his conscious self stepped out of the mortal bonds of his body.

His eyes opened. It startled him to see his body sitting by the horse not more than two paces away, and for a moment, he was afraid he had performed his spell too well and perhaps separated his soul from his body. Then he noticed his chest was moving slightly in and out, and a small trickle of blood was flowing from a cut on his arm. He was still alive.

Elated, he looked about for the soul of the dead man at his side. The world he had entered looked much the same as when he was struck by lightning. The mortal realm was out of focus and bright with an unearthly diffused light. But unlike the time before, the world of the living was not vanishing before his eyes. Valorian soon found the dead man's soul close by, confused, angry, and frightened. The chieftain knew those feelings well. He reached out to the dead man to reassure him and together they waited.

In eternity, there is no sense of time, and while Valorian thought the wait was terribly long, in reality, the Harbingers came before his body had drawn another breath. There were two of them this time, as shining white and enigmatic as Valorian remembered. They had brought a saddled steed for the man's soul and invited him to mount. If they sensed Valorian's presence, they paid no attention to it.

Swifter than eagles they flew out of the mortal world into the curtain of mists, while Valorian's mind followed, using his touch with the dead warrior as a guide. He was glad he had the warrior to accompany him, for the passage through' the thick gray mist was longer than he recal ed. Without the Harbingers and the soul for company, he could have become disoriented and lost forever in the eternal mists. He tried not to think how he was going to get back alone.

At last they broke through into the blessed light and touched down on the plains of the realm of the dead. With the mountain of Ealgoden in sight, Valorian's mind bade a silent, sad farewell to his companion and sped over the green fields to the massive peak. He wondered if the gods knew he was there. He hoped they didn't Lord Sorh might not appreciate a mortal borrowing one of his servants. He pushed the thought aside when Ealgoden's peak loomed beneath him. This time he didn't need to search for a doorway. He went directly to the entrance he had used before and plunged through the black rock into the cold, dark tunnel.

An intense aura of hatred and malice immediately struck him like a physical blow from the small, cunning minds of the gorthlings. It was a powerful mental sensation that he hadn't picked up when his soul traveled through Gormoth, and it nearly smothered him in its depth and strength. He fought off the destructive aura with every bit of his and Hunnul's combined strength and concentrated instead on finding a gorthling as quickly as possible.

He knew they were there in the rocks and crevices of the tunnel wal s, waiting for condemned souls to come down the road, but he didn't know exactly where to look, and he didn't want to alert them by poking haphazardly into possible hiding places. However, there was one gorthling he remembered vividly, plus the place in the tunnel where it had been hiding. Perhaps it was still there. His mind probed deeper and deeper into the black holes. He didn't need lights this time to find his way, but he wished for one if only to dispel the terrifying, devouring darkness. Like a wraith, he slipped along the trail, past the lava river, and down the long, twisting passages.

At last he came to the section of tunnel where the gorthling had tried to snatch his dagger. As he had hoped, the little beast was hiding in a crevice waiting to torment approaching souls. Valorian gathered his magic into a powerful kinetic force, channeled it through his mental link into Gormoth, and snatched the gorthling out of its hiding place before it realized its danger. It gave a furious screech of alarm.

In an instant, every gorthling was aware of Valorian's presence and came swarming to stop him.

The chief sensed rather than knew that if they caught up with him, they could . imprison his consciousness with their own powerful, cunning thoughts. Desperately he pul ed his mind through the tunnels, taking the gorthling with him.

The other creatures ran furiously after him. Valorian pushed faster, holding the gorthling in his mental grip. He slowly forged ahead of the pursuers and reached the entrance before they could trap him. He didn't know if the magic command to open the door would work from the inside, but he tried it anyway and was rewarded when the door cracked open. The darkness and the furious cries of the gorthlings vanished into light as Valorian brought himself and his prisoner out of Gormoth. Before the other gorthlings could escape, he slammed the door shut again and came hurtling back across the realm of the dead.

Too quickly they entered the mists that were the barrier between the mortal and immortal realms before the man had a chance to get his bearings. Now Valorian had no guide. He wasn't sure how wide the mists were or which direction to turn. His mind became disoriented by the total lack of sight, sensation, or physical touch, and his momentum stumbled to a halt. He probed this way and that into the blank mists and found nothing. Fingers of panic began to clutch at his consciousness.

The gorthling in his grip cackled in glee at his predicament. Then it stiffened angrily.

Far away, on the edge of the mists came a voice, masculine, strong, and rich in timbre
. Master! We
are here! This way.
It was Hunnul, his being reaching out to Valorian. The chieftain raced after the beloved voice, its touch like a light glowing in the darkness.

Suddenly he was back in the warm, dim shelter, with the noises of horses and men assailing his ears and the pressure of Hunnul's legs against his back. Startled, he blinked and felt something squirm in his hands.

Master, the armband!
Hunnul reminded him urgently.

Valorian snatched the gold armband and shoved it over the head of the furiously struggling creature in his grasp. When the gold settled around its neck, the gorthling subsided in his hands. Its high-pitched squeal of rage brought everyone's attention snapping around to the chief.

"Gods above, what is that?' Karez gasped. They all stared in horrified surprise at the little, wizened beast crouched like a hairless, desiccated monkey on Valorian's arm.

Another warrior cried, "That's a gorthling! You've brought one of those things out of Gormoth?"

There was a collective exclamation of revulsion and horror, and everyone jumped back against the stone wall.

The chieftain climbed to his feet with the gorthling still clinging to his arm. Hissing, it sidled up to his shoulder and glared balefully at the clansmen. "Yes, it's from Gormoth," Valorian answered grimly.

"And back to Gormoth it wil go when we have destroyed the Tarns."

The gorthling suddenly cackled, showing its sharp pointed teeth. "That's what you think, dung-head. You'll never send me back!" The men edged even farther away at the sound of its raspy, malicious voice.

Valorian ignored the creature. In truth, he wasn't certain how he was going to return the gorthling, but he would worry about that later. "How long have we been in here?" he asked, striding to a slit in the wal to look out. The Tarns were busy .running back and forth and trying to shoot arrows between the stone slabs.

The clansmen looked at him strangely. One shrugged and replied, "Not for long, lord. You were only sitting there for a few minutes." The chief drew a long breath of relief. A few minutes. The journey had seemed interminable to him. Maybe there was still time after all.

"Mount your horses," he said tersely.

"Mount your horses, stupid mortals. You're about to die," repeated the gorthling, sneering.

"Be quiet," demanded Valorian, "and stay put, or I'll stuff that gold down your foul little throat."

The gorthling's mouth clicked shut and he clung to Valorian's shoulder, looking sullen, while the clansman mounted Hunnul. The chief ran his hand down the stal ion's silky neck and said softly, "Thank you, my friend." Hunnul bobbed his head in reply.

When everyone was ready, Valorian nodded once. "Cover your ears and hang on," he warned. He closed his eyes to concentrate. Would the gorthling's enhancement work here in the mortal world? he wondered. Had his quest into Gormoth been in vain? He began to summon the magic, and his answer came at once in an incredible flow of power. He felt invigorating strength flowing through his mind and body, enough strength to gather the magic out of the mountains themselves.

"Amara!" he cried in exultation and threw his arms wide to initiate his spel . At his command, the stone room suddenly exploded outward. The blast shattered the stone slabs and sent splinters and fragments of rock cutting like scythes through the Tarnish soldiers close by. The force of the explosion slammed others to the ground in a wide radius around the spot and leveled the entire ring of stone. The bodies of the dead lay scattered in the dirt and broken rubble.

For a moment, the clansmen and their horses, the Tarns and Tyrranis were stunned by the powerful blast. No one moved in the settling dust. Then Hunnul leaped forward up the trail, and the Clan warriors fol owed close on his heels.

"Stop them!" Tyrranis yelled furiously. Drawing his own bloody sword, the general kicked his horse to cut off Hunnul's escape. His officers and a few of the men who were still mounted followed him with their own weapons drawn.

Valorian saw them corning and felt his hatred rise to choke him. He wanted more than anything to sear Tyrranis to a smoking ruin, but he wouldn't break his vow for the likes of that man. Instead, he raised his sword over his head with both hands, lifted his voice in a great cry of rage, and clamped his legs to Hunnul's sides. The black flattened his ears, gathered himself into a mighty leap, and plowed directly into the general's big bay horse.

The brown stal ion staggered under the force of the blow, knocking the general off balance. In a frenzy, Tyrranis clutched his sword and grabbed for his saddle horn, his face masked in rage. He clung to the side of his saddle while his horse tried to regain its balance, and he looked up at Valorian's implacable face. His lips curled in a snarl of hatred.

The black sword came smashing down on the general's shoulder at the edge of the polished breastplate. The blow knocked Tyrranis further off balance. He slipped sideways, exposing his neck for a brief moment, and in that space of time, Valorian struck again. His sword slashed into Tyrranis's neck and hacked through to the spine. The general's head lol ed sideways as blood poured over his immaculate uniform. He seemed to hang on for a heartbeat or two, then his body sagged out of the saddle and fell to earth. His horse bolted away.

The gorthling on Valorian's shoulder licked its lips.

Almost in an afterthought, Valorian hurled a whirlwind of dust, gravel, and flailing winds into the midst of the other mounted officers that blew them off their terrified horses. The remaining soldiers of the Chadarian garrison, demoralized, made no further effort to follow the rear guard as they broke out of the encirclement and galloped up the trail after the caravan.

A prayer was on the chieftain's lips that he and his men weren't too late. By the position of the noon sun, he knew they hadn't been separated for long, but the XIIth Legion wouldn't need much time to catch and massacre the Clan.

He sent Hunnul racing over the rocky trail, deeper into the valley, with the rear guard trying madly to keep up.

At first, Valorian couldn't see the caravan through the groves of trees and the rocky outcroppings.

He heard it first—an inarticulate roar of screaming, yelling, roaring voices, mingled with the neighing of panicked horses and the rattle of weapons and armor. The sound cut to his heart.

Valorian leaned low over Hunnul's neck, his fingers damped to his sword, and his body automatical y adjusted to the horse's violent movements. The black mane whipped his face, and the gorthling's claws sunk into his shoulder, but he didn't feel a thing. He saw only the trail before him that led to the legion he must defeat.

All at once the valley opened up into a flat, broad meadow of thick grass, flowers, and butterflies.

The Tarns had caught the caravan there and brought it to a crashing halt.

Valorian saw it all in a flash when Hunnul broke out of the trees and crested a small rise. A force of perhaps two hundred soldiers were positioned between him and the caravan. They were there presumably to keep the clanspeople from turning back or escaping into the woods and hills. To Valorian, they were a cutting insult, a chal enge thrown in his face to keep him from his family. Farther ahead on the trail, the wagons, carts, and herds were thrown together in a chaotic mass of terrified people and animals, and all along that crowded line were clansmen and women tangled in bitter fighting with the legionnaires.

The chieftain's jaw tightened. Once again he relied on the gorthling's touch to summon more forces of magic. His vivid blue eyes seemed to spark from the vast power he drew out of the earth, river, and trees. On his shoulder, the gorthling began to bob and weave in excitement, for it had never felt such power before. The other warriors were close behind them now, their expressions angry and grim.

In unison, they broke over the rise and gal oped down on the force of Tarnish soldiers who were sitting patiently on their horses, watching the battle surge around the caravan. The Tarns weren't expecting an attack from their rear, since they thought the remains of the Clan rear guard were being rank destroyed by Tyrranis's men. It wasn't until they heard the hoof beats close by and a few men turned to look that they realized their danger. Before they could set up any defense, the clansman on the big black horse raised his hand toward them.