The next morning the four stood at the little northern gates of Black Dale with both their horses and a small crowd of well-wishers. Germanius had a beautiful gray mount that was long in the flanks and had the narrow head of a runner. He stood next to the massive Odellius who helped him onto the horse and gave him some final words of advice, “Now then Germanius, don’t get yourself killed in the first run, take down a few of them first will you?”
The old man smiled down at Odellius and said, “You’re not my son, but it’s kind of you to say so.”
Odellius looked up at the old knight and laughed aloud. He then turned to the others gathered nearby and shouted out, “He’s so deaf he wouldn’t hear a halfling whore faking an orgasm for her half-giant paramour!”
Several of the women gathered nearby shook their heads but laughed, and young Shia and Rhia, who stood near Jon Gray with wool blankets and boxes of food, giggled into their shoulders as they couldn’t cover their mouths.
“Be careful, Jon,” said Shia and stepped up to the boy. He looked down at her and smiled although the tall blonde woman nearby kept a close watch on the two. “Take these blankets to keep you warm in the mountains and I made you cookies,” she said and held the blanket and the box towards him.
Jon leaned down, kissed her on the forehead, took the offered items, and stowed them in the bags on his trotter. The horse was freshly scrubbed and looked spry with its tail high in the air.
Rhia’s lower lip trembled and her eyes showed just a tinge of wetness as she held up a small package for Jon, “I knitted you some socks,” she said, “but I’m not very good at knitting, I’m gonna be a knight like you when I grow up!”
“Girls can’t be knights,” said Shia and gave her little sister a small shove.
“Sure they can,” said Jon. “In Tanelorn anyone can be a knight if they want. They just have to be brave.”
“Not here,” said Shia.
“I can too if I get the purple face disease!” said Rhia and defiantly stuck her chin out towards her sister.
“You can die if you get that, stupid,” said Shia with a shake of her head.
“I don’t care,” said Rhia. “I’m going to be a knight just like Jon.” With that she turned to the tall young knight, grabbed him by one massive leg, and gave him a hug. “Will I ever see you again?”
Jon patted the young girl on the head and smiled, “Of course you will, I’m just going up in the mountains for a few days. I’ll be back soon enough and we’ll start you learning about swords, how does that sound?”
Rhia stepped back with a huge smile on her face, “You promise?”
“I promise,” said Jon, bent down, put his huge hands around her tiny little waist and lifted her high in the air.
“Wheeee,” said Rhia.
“Come on, Jon, the morning is passing,” said Sorus, his own little horse carefully brushed and spry, although not nearly the beast that Germanius rode nor even equal to the black charger of Mikus Swift.
Mikus stood next to his father and discussed something quietly, with an occasional look at Jon and the others, but at this word from Sorus stuck his hand out to his father, “Well, father, wish me luck!”
“Good hunting Mikus,” said Thorius and took the proffered hand in a firm grip. “Make me proud.”
“I will,” said the boy with a smile, turned to his own horse, mounted it with ease, and then waved to the two dozen or so people gathered at the gate. “Tally ho!”
With that the four rode out of Black Dale to the cheers of the spectators although in the background many other people went about their business with barely even a look up at the commotion.
“How far is it to the mountains?” said Sorus as he rode next to Jon while Germanius went ahead with Mikus.
“Not more than two days of easy riding,” said the tall knight with a heartfelt smile for the young brewer. “Getting nervous already?”
“No, not at all,” said Sorus and sat up taller in the saddle although Jon still towered over him.
“It’s all right to be scared,” said Jon. “My father says that everyone is a coward before the battle but that once the fighting starts you find your inner strength.”
“Really,” said Sorus. “Are you afraid?”
“Well, I’m not all that sure there is anything to be afraid of up in the mountains. It was near the peak when I spotted the strange markings on the rock. They sort of looked like a crocodile and that’s something I’m here to talk to the First Rider about.”
“A crocodile?” said Mikus his faze screwed up in puzzlement, “In the mountains? That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“It might make a great deal of sense,” said Jon quietly and looked ahead to Mikus and Germanius who cantered a few hundred yards ahead. “The old man rides well.”
“What do you mean it might make sense,” said Sorus. “You came here for a reason, but then the mayor wouldn’t listen to you, and now you haven’t said anything to anyone in the rest of the time you’ve been here. Why did you come to Elakargul?”
Jon looked at Sorus for a moment and then nodded his square jawed head, “I trust you, Sorus, but I don’t feel the same way about Mikus.”
“I understand,” said the young brewer, “But Mikus is ok, his dad is a bit of an ass, but Mikus just wants to be a knight. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
“If you say so,” said Jon. “I also don’t really trust Germanius,” he went on.
“What?” said Sorus. “He’s a fine knight and as trustworthy as they come. His generation, they take being a knight very seriously although there aren’t many left his age. Most die in battle, that’s the way of our people.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust his integrity but he’s old. If I say something to him about my real mission and he lets it slip to Thorius or one of his allies that might hurt my chances of doing what needs to be done,” said Jon his face somber as his eyes looked ahead to the old man.
“What is it that needs to get done?” said Sorus and pulled his little horse next to Jon’s. “You can tell me, I’m on your side.”
Jon nodded his head, “I know, I know. My father is a stubborn man and he thinks things must be a certain way.”
“He built an entire city, right?” said Sorus.
“He founded it at least. He traveled the world slaying monsters, saving maidens, doing all sorts of heroic deeds and then he just decided that it… it was futile.”
“How can doing heroic things be futile?” said Sorus. “That is what any man wants to do, be a hero, save the girl, get married, have sex!”
“I hear you,” said Jon as a smile crept onto his face. “That Shia is quite a little beauty.”
“Yeah,” said Sorus. “But you saw who she baked cookies for, you. She’ll only marry a knight and not some stupid brewer boy.”
“But, you can be knight if you’re brave enough. Germanius can knight you,” said Jon.
“I know, but sometimes I think I’m not cut out for all of this. I like brewing and I get scared. Maybe I’m just not meant to be a hero,” said Sorus, hanging his head, and patting his horse on the neck.
“Bird droppings,” said Jon. “You don’t know if you’re going to be a hero until you face real danger for the first time. Some people who think they are brave run away and the ones who are scared stand up and fight. My first time in battle I was a bit younger than you, we were fighting remnants of the Five Nations after the war, cleaning up pockets of resistance. My father took me along and I was so scared I peed myself,” went on Jon and noticed the look of astonishment on Sorus’s face. “Yep, it’s true. But, when the fight started, I pulled out my sword and did my duty. Once you’ve been heroic it’s easier the next time. It’s like that with everything. If you’re a coward the first time it’s hard to break out of the habit.”
“So, this first time will be my test?” said Sorus looking at Jon with wide eyes but a firm jaw.
“Well, you can always redeem yourself even after failing,” said Jon. “You have those Brokenshield fellows here in Elekargul, right? They get stripped of their knighthood for cowardice but they can get it back.”
“Mostly they give up their knighthood because they can’t perform the duties. It’s usually to raise children when their wives die in childbirth but sometimes it happens because of cowardice, you’re right Jon,” said Sorus, looking up into the morning sky as the ground slowly went past. “But, what about your father giving up being a hero, does that have anything to do with you being here?”
Jon smiled, “My father started lecturing me when I was still in the crib, so I’ve heard the stories many times. My father, he set out to save the world, to be a hero, to destroy evil, and bring good to everyone. He did that for a few years after he left home when he wasn’t much older than you. He traveled with some other fellows, a paladin of the sun god, a nature wizard, a rogue, sort of your typical adventuring party.”
“Then what happened,” said Sorus as he leaned forward in his saddle, eyes darting back and forth between Jon and the road ahead.
“They killed a blue dragon that was terrorizing a village,” said Jon, “and when they went back to its lair there was a baby blue in the nest.”
“Did they kill it?” said Sorus.
“Well, my father’s friend, the paladin, wanted to kill it. He said it was evil by its very nature but my father thought they could raise it, or turn it over to someone to be raised, and it could be a force of good. There was a big argument,” said Jon. “At least that’s the story I’ve been told.”
“What happened?” said Sorus.
“They agreed to turn it over to someone they knew, a woman who was good with animals. That night the paladin slew the thing in its cage, slaughtered it,” said Jon. “The next morning when my father found out he got into a fight with the paladin but lost and was almost killed. My father’s friend, the druid, Tarragonius, intervened and saved him. After that my father and Tarragonius left the others and set out on their own.”
“Blue dragons are evil, at least that’s the way it is down here in the south,” said Sorus. “I kind of see where the paladin was coming from; I don’t mean to say anything bad about your father,” went on the young brewer one hand spread out as he shrugged his shoulders.
“My father thought about that, and he and Tarragonius talked about it all the time. My father finally decided that maybe there wasn’t such a thing as good and evil.”
“Sure there is,” said Sorus. “Look around, there are lots of evil things in the world.”
“Do they think they’re evil?” said Jon and turned to the boy with a suddenly hard edge to his gray eyes. “Don’t we all do what is in our own best interest?”
“Well, yeah,” said Sorus. “But sometimes I do things that hurt other people and I know that’s wrong.”
“Why is it wrong if it’s in your best interest,” said Jon. “At least that’s what my father would say. I don’t really believe everything he says but sometimes it makes a lot of sense. Let’s say you were starving, would killing and eating your horse be a good thing?”
“Yes,” said Sorus. “Otherwise you’d starve.”
“But it’s not good for the horse,” said Jon.
“The horse is just an animal,” replied Sorus.
“That’s true, but every day you have make decisions about what is good for you and a lot of times that isn’t so good for someone else. For example, Thorius is doing what he thinks is best for him and for the town of Black Dale by trying to get rid of me. I’m doing what I think is best by staying and trying to complete my mission, which one is good and which evil?”
Sorus shrugged, “Well, I guess it depends on who I’m talking to.”
“Right,” said Jon. “That’s my father’s point. Anyway, my father decided to take himself out of the equation.”
“How’s that?” asked Sorus.
“He decided to stop trying to influence other people and remain neutral in all things,” said Jon.
“That’s impossible, how can he be the king of Tanelorn if he doesn’t make decisions?” said Sorus.
“He’s not the king, he’s the Gray Lord,” said Jon. “In Tanelorn people don’t tell other people what to do. People decide what is best for themselves and do it. At first it was just my father, Tarragonius, and a few others but over the years the city grew as other men and women who were tired of fighting, of deciding right and wrong, joined him. Now it’s a city full of people like that.”
Sorus rode along in silence for a long time, “It doesn’t seem like a very efficient system, I mean how does anyone get a well dug if they can’t tell anyone to dig it?”
“They dig it themselves and if someone else thinks it is a good idea they join them,” said Jon. “But, you’re right, it’s not very efficient and sometimes things don’t go so well. Do you know what I’m supposed to say when I meet someone who might be tired of deciding good and evil and would be a good candidate to come to Tanelorn and live?”
“No,” said Sorus and shook his head.
“Tanelorn has few luxuries to offer other than peace of mind. Some have found that allure enough and perhaps you might be among those so inclined,” said Jon looking intently at the young brewer with gray eyes and a firm jaw.
Sorus sat in the saddle for a long time and thought as the two young men rode side by side in silence for several hours until the young brewer broke the quiet, “I think your father might be on to something,” he said and Jon nodded silently.
“What about this mission of yours?” said Sorus. “We’ll be stopping for lunch soon and I’d like to hear about it before we catch up to those two.”
“My father thinks that relics of the Old Empire are influencing people unduly,” said Jon.
“The Old Empire?” said Sorus. “That’s big stuff! There are all sorts of old stone circles that are still magical from those days, people say that Doria was built in those times.”
“My father wants to collect these old relics, store them away so that they can’t influence people, so that people can make up their own minds about things, so their judgment isn’t clouded,” said Jon.
“Why doesn’t he just destroy them then?” asked Sorus.
“Dad would say that he doesn’t have the right to make that decision. I think he’s a little crazy sometimes about neutrality. You have to make a stand somewhere but my father doesn’t think so. So he just collects these things and hides them away.”
“What is it you’re here to collect?” said Sorus, the truth of Jon’s mission beginning to become clear to him.
Jon smiled, “You’re on the right track,” he said. “In the ancient empire there was a great child of the dragons, a king, or something like that and he had a powerful relic called the Staff of Sakatha.”
Sorus shook his head and partially closed his eyes, “Hmm, I’ve never heard of it and there aren’t many reptile men around although there are some way up north in Darag’dal.”
“My father seems to think the staff has reemerged,” said Jon. “I don’t know how my father gets his information, but he is almost always right about these things. He thinks it’s down here near Elekargul somewhere, he wants me to collect it and take it back to Tanelorn.”
“You should just tell Thorius that,” said Sorus. “I’m sure if he knew he wouldn’t be so dismissive towards you.”
“I’m to talk to the First Rider about it and the First Rider only,” said Jon. “My father was very clear on the subject. Those old relics, when you hold them in your hand, when you taste the power they carry, they can corrupt you,” said Jon and his eyes grew dark and cold and his hand clenched at his side. “It isn’t easy to fight off that sort of temptation, that sort of power.”
“Have you held them in your hand?” asked Sorus his voice almost a whisper.
“The Gray Horn and… the Black Sword, Banisher,” said Jon as his body suddenly trembled and a haunted look came to his eyes.
“What are they?” said Sorus, his voice became quieter if anything.
Jon suddenly shook his head and laughed out loud, “Enough of this talk, Sorus the future knight of Elekargul,” he said and clapped the boy on the back. “I hope you brought a small keg of your finest for the journey and my belly rumbles like I haven’t eaten in week.” He spurred his horse which leapt off in a gallop and he called out to the riders far ahead, “Sir Germanius, Mikus, my belly tells me we must stop for lunch!”
Sorus spurred his own steed and quickly caught up with the others as they settled on a spot where a small creek flowed into the Frosty Run River. Nearby bunches of purple flowers interspersed with green grass dotted the landscape and Jon spotted several small gray rabbits that nibbled on the bounty.
“What sort of flower is that?” he asked no one in particular, as he and Sorus unpacked two of the horses, while Germanius filled a kettle with stream water and Mikus gathered wood for a fire.
“Those,” said Sorus as he pointed to the purple bunches. “They call them Aubrieta I think, my mom likes them. They grow around here a lot, near creeks. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” said Jon. “My mother is always telling me that it’s important to know the animals and plants of a region.”
“You have a mother?” said Sorus and laughed aloud. “You talk about that father of yours so much I figured maybe you dropped from the sky or something.”
“No,” laughed Jon. “I guess I don’t talk about her as much, but I think about her a lot.”
“I feel sorry for the poor woman,” said Mikus who returned with an armload of wood and caught the tail end of the conversation. “Having to give birth to a boy with that giant of a head must have been a traumatic experience.”
“You don’t know the half of it, Mikus,” said Jon as he got up to help dig out a small fire pit. “I’m a twin.”
“There’s two of you?” asked Mikus and shook his head in disbelief, “I can’t believe a woman could survive such a birthing.”
“My sister is not as big as me,” said Jon, “she only comes up to here,” he said pointing to his lips.
Sorus, knew his own height of six feet and realized the girl was half a foot taller yet. “Yeah, a real shorty I bet.”
Jon laughed, “She always complains there aren’t enough tall boys in the world but I don’t think she means it. She loves to fight more than me and is already a gray captain.”
“Aren’t you a captain in your army,” said Mikus as he turned to face Jon.
Jon shook his head sadly, “My commander says I have to learn discipline before I can be a captain. I think he’s still mad about me and his daughter.”
“I don’t even want to know,” said Mikus as they put the kindling in a pile and the young squire began to scape his knife over a metal plate, which instantly produced a shower of sparks that caught light to the kindling, and soon a roaring little blaze was going.
“Those rabbits good eating?” said Jon with a motion of his head to the bunnies that romped all over the field.
“Three Maria’s,” said Sorus with a grin. “I don’t know why they call them that but they’re fine eating. They’re all over the foothills like this,” he went on. “There’s another kind too called Mountain Rabbits that are a little bigger with big white tails. We’ll bag a few this afternoon after lunch if you want to try them. Do you have rabbits up north in Tanelorn?”
Jon smiled, “I don’t think there’s anywhere with rabbits. Speaking of rabbits do you have gnolls down here,” he continued.
“I’ve heard of them,” said Mikus. “Great hairy beasts, ten feet tall and they like to laugh in this crazy way, right?”
“They are big and they are hairy but I don’t know about ten feet tall,” said Jon, “at least not where I’m from anyway. We have an expression up in Tanelorn that the bunnies made me think about. Rabbits breed like gnolls!”
“There must be a lot of them then,” said Mikus with a smile. “How come they don’t just overrun Tanelorn?”
“I fought a dog-man once,” Germanius rumbled up from the depths as he stirred some vegetables into the water not yet aboil. “Not much bigger than Jon there,” he went on, “but a wild creature he was, he fought with an obsidian blade, the stone swords are sharp but brittle. He smashed it against my shield and near broke my arm but I managed to best him in the end.”
“Where was this?” asked Jon.
“Eh?” said Germanius as he went back to the vegetables.
“Where… did… this happen?” Jon said in a loud voice.
“No need to yell,” said Germanius and then gave Jon a wink. “The old man is only mostly deaf, not completely.”
At this all three of the youngsters laughed aloud and Sorus urged the old knight to continue, “Come on Sir Germanius, tell us the story.”
“You youngsters always humoring an old knight,” said Germanius with a smile as he attended to their lunch with great diligence. “It was well west of here, in the territories of the orcs, Grelm it is now, but before that it was something else, I can’t remember. I couldn’t have been much more than twenty or so years old. There were reports that the old masters were stirring and me and some of the fellows went into the orc lands looking for any them.”
“Old masters?” whispered Jon to Sorus who replied with a nod of his head.
“I’ll tell you about them another time. Brutus Brokenhand was their slave and he escaped and founded Elekargul,” said Sorus and turned his attention back to the old man who himself had paused in his story for a brief moment to fish out a small onion and pop it into his mouth.
“I think it was Torrentius Oldhill watched the camp that night when we was attacked,” said Germanius. “He was mostly hobgoblin old Torrentius, he leapt in front of them ambushers and was near chopped in half by the dog-man but held them off long enough for the rest of us to get up. It was quite a scramble I can tell you that. At one point one of them, a little fellow, goblin or some such, jabbed a dagger right up my arse. Now boys,” said the old warrior, “let me tell you straight, don’t ever let a goblin feller jab his dagger up there unless you’re fond of screaming like a little girl every time you take a crap for the next month.”
The three young men burst into laughter, Jon and Sorus clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces, and Mikus rolled around on the ground so much so that he put the tail edge of his leather jerkin into the fire and had to throw it off and stomp it out, which led to more merriment.
After everyone finally settled down Germanius continued his story, “The way that dog fella laughed was enough to chill the bones, sorta half a laugh, half a scream, and a little something else as well. I stuck my sword in his eye and that was that, but we had to bury poor Torrentius in the morning,” finished Germanius and this sobered the boys a great deal.
“He died a hero though,” said Mikus. “I mean he saved the rest of you from getting ambushed in camp.”
Germanius nodded his head in agreement, “Every day I’m alive is because of that,” he said. “I had forgotten about that until you mentioned gnolls,” he went on. “There’s quite a number of good fellas in their grave instead of me. Sometimes I wonder if the Black Horse wanted it that way or whether it’s just the fate of things.”
“Tell me about the Black Horse. I don’t know much about your religious beliefs,” said Jon with a look to Sorus.
Sorus thought for a moment as Germanius poured the hot water off through a strainer and began to dish out piles of vegetables; carrots, onions, cauliflowers that set off a cloud of steam, onto tin plates and passed them to the boys. “The Black Horse is sort of a god to us here in Elekargul but also sort of just a thing to say. Nobody really prays to it and it doesn’t really give bounties to priests or anything,” said Sorus between bites. “We just sort of talk about him and go about our business.”
“It’s like that in Tanelorn, everyone who settles there comes from somewhere else so they all worship different gods, there isn’t anything really common to the gray city,” said Jon and gobbled down his own food in great bites. “My father doesn’t worship any gods at all but some of the gray druids are very religious.”
“Doesn’t worship any gods at all?” said Mikus.
Jon shook his head, “Nope. He says that it’s up to a man to make his own way in life and that anyone who prays for guidance is just fooling themselves.”
“That’s pretty raw,” said Mikus. “I know a lot of men who’d have something to say about that.”
Jon shrugged his shoulders, “That’s my dad. He says what he wants, or at least he used to.”
“Getting soft as he gets older?” said Sorus with a look at his friend, concern in his eyes.
Jon paused the shovel like motion and stared at Sorus for a long minute before he replied, “I don’t know. Right before I left to come here he told me that a nation… what was it… a nation without heroes is a nation run by thugs.”
“What does that mean?” said Mikus and looked at Jon who shrugged his shoulders but Germanius nodded his head and put his hand to his sword hilt.
“It means that ambitious, strong men of action drive a nation, and if those men aren’t heroes then the thugs take over. The only ones who can stop self-interested bastards are the heroes,” he said and stomped his foot. “By the balls of the Black Horse I’d like to meet your father Jon, but I’m too old, too weak. You’ll just have to act like him and I’ll settle for that.”
Jon looked down at his plate for a few seconds, “Big boots you’re asking me to fill Germanius, I’m not sure I’m up to the task.”
“Paint my left leg black and call me a zebra boy,” said Germanius and walked over to Jon and put his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “It’s the thugs that are sure they’re right, they don’t doubt their capabilities. It’s the heroes that worry if they can do it. That’s what stops heroes and lets the scoundrels into the barn. Get off your arse and start acting like a man.”
“You sound like my father,” said Jon and put his own hand on the old warrior’s shoulder.
“I’m getting all weepy here,” said Sorus and put his arms around Mikus as the two young boys began to sob into one another’s shoulders.
“Okay, okay,” said Jon his arm still around Germanius. “I get it. Let me tell you all about what might be up in those hills. You too, Mikus. You’re father doesn’t much like me.” Mikus began to say something but Jon raised his hand and shook his head, “No, no, Mikus. He doesn’t much like me but that doesn’t mean I hold you responsible for the way he thinks. Actually, a lot of people don’t much like me. I’m a spoiled rich kid whose had everything in life go his way and sometimes I get a little full of myself,” he went on.
“A litte?” said Sorus.
“I’m baring my soul here,” said Jon, “and this is what I get?”
“You’ve got a thin hide for someone with such a thick head,” replied Sorus with a smile and Jon laughed.
“Fair enough, Sorus,” said the massive young knight of gray. “Mikus, you’re part of the team and that means you get to hear everything. You can make your own judgment about me. Does that sound about right?”
Mikus nodded his head and remained silent.
“I’m here looking for something called the Staff of Sakatha,” said Jon, “and I when I came over the Mountains of the Orc I spotted a strange mark on a rock up near the peak. It reminded me something my father said about the staff. I’m not getting anything done in town waiting for the First Rider so I thought now was the time to act.”
“That’s the boy,” said Germanius with a nod of his grizzled head. “You can’t wait for somebody else to be a hero.”
“I don’t know about all that old man,” said Jon with a smile on his face, “but I aim to figure out what that thing up on the mountain was and if the First Rider cares to join us then maybe we’ll let him have some of the glory!”
“Let him suck the blister juice off our feet,” said Germanius. “Ours is the glory!”
“Wahoo!” shouted Mikus.
“Who’s going to clean the plates,” said Jon his eyebrows raised.
“Being a hero is sometimes pretty unheroic,” said Sorus, grabbing the plate from Jon’s hand, and walking towards the creek.
“I’ll help,” said Mikus, with a laugh as Jon poured cool water on the fire and began to stomp at it while Germanius limped slowly over to the horses and began to pack up some of the equipment.
They reached the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc that night, but the main trail lay further to the north, so they stopped and camped near a small creek that meandered out of the hills and towards the Frosty Run behind them. Even though it was only their first night together they already seemed to have established a routine as Mikus gathered firewood, Jon and Sorus took care to set up camp, and old man Germanius brushed down the horses and prepared them for the long night.
“Should we let the horses run,” said Jon over his shoulder to Germanius who hobbled the horses with a length of rope.
“Not this close to the mountains,” said the old soldier, suddenly able to hear again apparently thanks to the daylong activity. “Strange critters roam these hills, you’re lucky you didn’t face off agin one on your way over the mountain.”
“I saw a big bear or something one night,” said Jon and walked over to the old man and helped hobble the last horse. “It growled pretty loud but I guess it wasn’t much interested in a tussle.”
“Bears won’t bother ya much unless you’re travelin’ with a lass,” said Germanius. “Them bears can sniff a woman’s blooding from a mile or more away. Then they come’s and kill’s you and leaves the girl as she was. I seen it happen.”
“Really?” said Jon and patted the old man on the back. “I’ll remember to tell my sister that when I get back to Tanelorn. If I ever get back.”
“You might get back one day,” said the old warrior, and then suddenly a pained expression came across his face as he bent over his hands on his legs and let out a grunt.
“What’s the matter?” said Jon and put his big hand on the grizzled veterans back.
“The leg shoots,” said the old man through gritted teeth. “Like a dagger in the back of the leg dragging up and down. Hurts like the rotted tooth needing to get pulled. I gots the Zosters about twenty years ago and now I get these shooters now and again. They get worse the older I get. It’s time to die, past time to die,” said Germanius, standing up, and looking at Jon, his teeth still clenched. “Find me something good to die for boy. That’s what I ask of you.”
Jon put his arm under the ribs of the old warrior and helped him to the small fire that Mikus got started, “You sit down here old man,” he said and helped Germanius to the ground. “I’ll find you something good, I promise you that. Something that folks will be talking about for years to come. What do you say to that?”
Germanius nodded his head and then grimaced in pain again as he sat down with a thump, “I’ll be fine come morning.”
“You just stay there and take it easy old man, me and the kids will cook up some supper, here, take a sip of this,” said Jon and pulled a small leather flask out from his belt. “I was saving it for a victory drink but we might be dead by morning so why not take a jolt now?”
“I like your thinking on that,” said Germanius, took the flask, pulled out the leather stop, tilted it back, and poured a generous amount down his throat. “Ahhh, by the fifth leg of the Black Horse that hits the spot!”
Jon laughed and turned his attention to the camp where he helped Mikus and Sorus finish the fire, get out the bed rolls, put a roast chicken they brought from Black Dale on the fire, and start the water to boil.
Two hours later they were ready for bed as the fire burned brightly in the night and only a few clouds dotted the sky where a half moon shone brightly. “It’s hard to get used to that sky,” said Jon as he looked up. “It changed when I was sailing from Sea’cra to Tarlton.”
“The stars are different in the north?” asked Mikus with a puzzled expression on his face as the two lay on their rolls and gazed skyward. Sorus sat nearby, his back against a tree, and watched the same sky but still wore his chain shirt with his sword out and next to him.
“The world is round,” said Jon. “So when you get past the halfway point the stars change. They’re all different down here, none of the same constellations at all.”
“I didn’t know that,” said Mikus. “I mean, I knew the world was round, everyone knows that cause you can see a ship’s mast come up over the horizon, I just never really thought about how the stars would be different when you look up.” Suddenly the boy stopped and thought for a long time. “Hey, if the world is round, on the other side, in Tanelorn, up is our down.”
“That’s right, Mikus,” said Jon with a smile. “I bet you’re wondering why we don’t all just fall off?”
Mikus laughed and Sorus gave a chuckle from his seated position nearby. “What are you laughing at, Sorus,” said Mikus.
“Not at you,” said Sorus. “I was just thinking about that too. What is up and what is down? I mean, if people up in the north half look up they see the stars above them, but we in the south half look up and see the stars above us, right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” said Mikus, “but that doesn’t make much sense.”
Just then a heavy snore from Germanius came from under his blanket and was followed by a staccato burst of several more.
“Germanius might have the right idea on this one,” said Jon. “Tarragonius, the gray druid, tried to explain all that to me once but I got a little lost. I’m not sure anyone can figure it out.”
“Yeah,” said Mikus. “I guess there’s not much to be gained in thinking about things you’ll never understand, but, jeez, it sure doesn’t make much sense.”
“Get some sleep,” said Jon and rolled over onto his side. “Wake me up in a couple of hours, Sorus, and I’ll spell you. Let the old man sleep, he’ll be sore in the morning and I’d be surprised if you and Mikus weren’t a little worse for wear yourselves.”
Sorus gave Jon a short nod with his head and looked at the sky for a moment before he gazed out toward where the mountains loomed above them.
The mountains appeared huge to Jon, whose own lands of Tanelorn were plains with long low hills covered by grass. There were massive mountains further north of Tanelorn, in the frozen lands, but Jon never went that far in his travels. When he first came across these mountains he grew to know the cold nights in the heights and he slept comfortably under the heavy woolen blanket given to him by Rhia and Shia.
The night went by uneventfully. The four packed up their camp the next morning, headed along the mountains, and looked for the trail that led up the slopes. It took them all of the morning and part of the afternoon to find the trail and it was the sharp eyes of Mikus who spotted it. “That looks like a bit of trail,” said the boy as he pointed to a small bush that sat atop a rock, “behind that rock.”
“I think you’re right,” said Jon and nodded his head and walked over to the little gap in the rocky foothills. “It looks right and the time we took to get here is about what I remember. What do you say, Germanius, camp here for the night and start up in the morning, or cover some distance with the light we have left?”
“My back hurts like an old bear that fell out of a tree trying to get honey,” said the old warrior. “Damn that Odellius for giving me such a fine horse, I’da been better off on a donkey, they ride smoother and not so hard to climb in the morning.”
Mikus looked at Jon, “Did he answer your question?”
Jon laughed and shook his head, “I’m not really certain but I think he means we should get to where we’re going as quick as possible so he can get himself killed.”
“That’s about right,” said Sorus. “If we’re lucky that’ll be me and you someday, Mikus.”
Mikus nodded his head and dismounted to lead his fine horse up the path. “I’ll scout ahead and if I find something dangerous I’ll tell Germanius!”
The stone projectile caught him directly on the temple and he was dead before he hit the ground. His horse reared, wheeled around, and headed back towards town at a gallop.
“Where did it come from,” shouted Sorus as he gazed wide eyed in all directions.
Jon dove for cover behind a large rock just to his right when he heard Sorus’s words, “Get off your horse, get to cover!” he shouted and then looked around to find that Germanius not only already lay under cover, but had also pulled his horse along with him to provide protection from a second side.
Two more rocks sailed past Sorus’s head just as the boy leaned down to dismount and a third hit his steed in the foreleg which sent the beast skyward with a kick. The young brewer managed to dismount with a thump, fell to one knee, then pulled his horse down, and quickly hustled to the cover of the rocks near Jon. “Where is it coming from?” he said and looked around until his gaze came across Mikus dead on the ground his eyes open and sightless. “Is he dead?”
Jon nodded his head, “Killed outright, lucky shot. Bastards. We’ll kill them, don’t you worry,” he said as a trio of rocks skittered off the boulders just above their heads. “There,” said Jon and pointed off to his right. “Three of them at least, maybe five, slinging from just up there. If they’re smart they’ll have a couple of swordsmen protecting their flank if we try to get around them. Germanius, what do you see?”
The old knight was a good ten yards from them, behind a group of three large angular rocks and had his horse positioned to his left to cover any enfilading fire. “They’ll try to come around us to your side,” shouted the old warrior and pointed behind Jon. “I figure three slingers, maybe four. Either they’ve got no swordsman or they’re cowards; they should have attacked us right when the slingers fired. That’d been their best chance.”
“Sorus,” said Jon. “Grab the horse, run about ten yards out, when the slingers fire, dart back and take cover in those rocks between Germanius and me,” said the gray knight as he pointed to a clump of low rocks between the two. “I’m going to go to where the slingers are headed and beat them there.”
“Got it,” said the brewer, immediately following Jon’s commands and heading back into the open. “After five long strides two stones ricocheted on the ground, neither one coming with five feet of him, and he quickly turned and retraced his steps as another stone hit his horse in the flank, which caused the beast to jump, but he was able to control it and lead it to cover. When he looked back to where Jon was a moment ago he saw the trotter but no sign of the warrior. He then looked towards Germanius who had his long steel sword drawn and was in a low crouch.
“We charge the bushwhackers as soon as Jon hits them, we’ll catch ‘em as they run. Gut ‘em straight through and don’t think about it,” said Germanius in a low shout and with a clenched fist.
Sorus nodded and a moment later a huge bellow came from Jon followed by a terrible shriek. Germanius was up, he ran to the boulders, tried to leap the first one but his foot caught on vines from bush and sent the old man face first into the ground where he jammed his hand as he tried to catch himself. Sorus was up right after him and paused to help the old warrior, but Germanius spat out, “At ‘em you fool, I’ll get there!” so the brewer continued with a bound over the fallen knight.
Just beyond Germanius the trail led back and around to where Jon pointed earlier and suddenly two young goblin boys, not more than teens, each with a sling in their hands appeared around the corner looking over their shoulder and running at a full gait. Sorus jumped down from a rock into their path, and the first one ran himself onto the boys slim blade which pierced deeply into his belly. The creature opened his eyes wide in shock, looked up at Sorus, spat out something in a strange language before his gaze lost its focus, and fell to the ground.
The second goblin stood and stared for a moment as his mouth tried to say something but no words came out. It then pulled out a small dirk from its belt. Sorus tried to pull his sword out of the first goblin’s belly, but the creature had fallen sidewise, and the blade was twisted and wouldn’t easily slide out.
At that moment Jon came around the corner with a mammoth stone sword, somehow both thick and sharp, in his hand. The gray knight’s eyes were calm, his face bore a cool almost relaxed smile, and his movements seemed to be slowed somehow to the eyes of Sorus. Jon was a good fifteen feet away, yet he covered the distance in three apparently leisurely strides, and was on the goblin before Sorus could even open his mouth. The gray sword licked out and the goblin was in two pieces, cut in half at the waist.
“Come on,” said Jon his voice quiet and calm. “There might be more up in the hills,” and then leapt off.
Sorus tried to follow but, while the gray knight appeared to move long, sluggish strides, he leapt from rock to rock with a speed that belied belief and he was quickly up and out of Sorus’s sight.
“Never seen anyone move like that,” said Germanius’ voice from his right, and Sorus jumped from fright and raised his slim blade which had somehow loosed itself from the goblin boy.
“By The Mare, don’t startle me so,” said Sorus as he looked up to where Jon had vanished up into the hills.
“He moves like a ram, or a cougar, and that sword, looks heavy enough to cut iron but he wields it like a toy. If we had a brace of soldiers like that, by the Black Horse, the orcs would tremble!”
By the time the two arrived fifty yards up the hill Jon stood in a small clearing where a campfire and gear indicated the creatures had spent the night. One of them was dead, his head crushed so badly that it took Sorus a moment to realize that it was a goblin, and a second was on his knees with his hands held up in surrender.
“One of them put up a fight,” said Jon as he pointed with the mammoth blade, “but his friend thought better of it.”
“They killed Mikus,” said Sorus.
“They’re just boys, goblin boys, younger than you,” said Germanius with a shake of his head as walked over to the survivor and talked to him in the guttural language of the creatures.
“You speak that?” said Jon to Sorus and the brewer shook his head in the negative. “No, not much. Germanius said something about blood but I’m not following it much. The goblin wants mercy, that’s ‘hugara’ that he keeps saying. Germanius is saying something about killing our friend and wanting payment but I’m not sure.”
At that point the old warrior turned to Jon and smiled. “You were right, there’s something big going on up in the hills. Those boys said there is a dragon up there and a child of the dragons gave orders to the goblins and orcs to come down from the mountain and attack the freeriders,” he said as his smile broadened. “A dragon, can you imagine that. What better way to die than fighting a dragon.”
“Better than getting killed by a goblin with a sling,” said Sorus. “Poor Mikus. I never liked him much and his father is an ass but that’s no way for a squire of Elakargul to die. Should we kill him?” said Sorus and pointed with his blade to the goblin. “If we don’t, won’t he just head back up to his tribe and tell them what happened?”
“I don’t like killing in cold blood,” said Jon, his huge blade sheathed. “Let him go. We’ll pile up a cairn for Mikus and follow the little rotter up into the hills. He’ll lead us right to them.”
“Careful, Jon,” said Germanius in a whisper, his face away from the goblin boy, “he might speak Elakargul better than he lets on although I doubt it. You’re right though, give the bastard a head start and follow his trail. We’ll come up on them at night, take them down, and find out where this dragon is holed up. By the Black Horse, a dragon! Jon, you’re a man true to his word.”
Jon nodded his head and made a motion towards the little goblin who immediately peed all over himself, “Scat” he said and the creature got the idea well enough and fled headlong up the trail.
It took the about ten minutes to pile rocks on the body and find a suitable stone to carve Mikus’s name on. Germanius said something over the body but Sorus couldn’t bring himself to take part in the ceremony, more than to stand by with a dazed expression on his face, and soon they were on their way up the hill as they followed the trail of the little goblin. The creature didn’t do much to hide his path in its headlong flight and they were able to follow it with relative ease. By the time they cleared a small crest it was near dark, and Jon and Germanius picked a spot next to a small rise to tie up the horses.
“Get out the food but no fire,” said Jon to Sorus. “Germanius, you help him. I’m going up to find their cave or village or whatever. It shouldn’t be hard once it gets dark. I’ll be back in an hour at the most. I’ll call out like that little thrush bird that’s always around town, the trilla trilla sound so as you don’t kill me, right?”
“Got it,” said Sorus and suddenly felt his heart beat at a normal pace for the first time since the attack. He looked at Germanius who busily set up the camp and then he suddenly cried, great sobs shaking his shoulders and tears streaming down his face. The old warrior didn’t even look up and continued about his business while the strange episode continued for quite some time. Sorus tried to stop himself but each time broke more deeply into tears until after ten minutes he finally regained control of his emotions and began to help the old warrior. “I’m sorry about that,” he said and pulled open a tin of flat biscuits good for sustenance but not particularly tasty.
“It’s just fine,” said Germanius with a pat on the boy’s back. “First time you’ve killed anyone?”
Sorus nodded, “And the first time I’ve seen one of my friends get killed. It happened so fast, Mikus was just walking along and then he was dead, that could have been me. I could be dead right now.”
Germanius looked at the boy for a moment and then nodded his head, “Or me, or Jon, but it wasn’t, and that’s the way it is. Either you’ll get used to it or you’ll be the dead one, either way there’s not much to be done.”
Sorus sat for a moment on his haunches. “I always thought it would be more glorious,” he finally said.
“It’s never glorious in the doing,” said Germanius. “It’s in the remembering. That’s what’s glorious. Mikus is dead but he died helping us survive and we have to remember that. If we don’t then it was a wasted death. Jon’ll be back soon and then we’re gonna go up there and kill a bunch more of ‘em, maybe find a dragon, maybe find that Staff of Sakatha thing that Jon talked about, or maybe not. Maybe we’ll all die. Do you think you’re doing it for a reason?”
“I thought I was doing it for me,” said Sorus and thought for a long moment his eyes shut as he listened to the crickets that began their nightly song. “But, maybe I’m doing it for Elakargul, maybe wanting to be a knight isn’t about me at all, it’s about our country, about being free from the orcs, the old masters. I guess being a knight is good for me too, Shia might love me, people might respect me but being a hero, doing things, getting famous, that really helps the country more than me, I guess. I’m not sure. I have to think about it, I guess.”
“You’re a good lad,” said Germanius. “You keep with Jon there, maybe when this is all over you head north with him back to Tanelorn, make yourself a life. You fought well back there but I’m not going to knight you yet. You can do better and you will, and then I’ll knight you before I die. Even if that damned dragon grabs me in his talons the way the great black had Tractus Brokenhand the day he saved Simious Coppercoin, I’ll live long enough to make you a knight.”
“Thank you, Sir Germanius,” said Sorus. “I’ll… I’ll try and do better next time.”
Germanius nodded his head and pursed his lips, “You will boy, you’ll do fine, but remember what I said, you stay with that Jon Gray, that boy is something special. I’ve never seen his equal, not among the best of my old friends. That Tanelorn he talks about, his father, and now he’s down here to collect that thing, there is something going on in the world Sorus. I don’t know what it is and I won’t live to see what comes out of it, but there is something going on and you should be part of it. Promise me you’ll stick with Jon no matter what.”
“I will,” said Sorus. “He moves so fast and you didn’t see it, but he cut that goblin in half with a flick of his wrist, he didn’t even swing hard, the blade moved so fast I didn’t see it. That sword is thicker than my leg, how can it cut like that?”
“Magic, Old Imperial magic,” said Germanius. “I’ve seen enough of it over the years to recognize it.”
“Jon said his father was collecting relics from the Old Empire, putting them away where they can’t influence people,” said Sorus as the darkness slowly deepened. The air was noticeably cooler even just this short distance into the mountain. “Here, we should put on our woolies and thick socks,” said Sorus and moved over to the horses. “And get out Jon’s also, he’ll be wanting them when he gets back.”
“You’re right son,” said Germanius. “I’m an old fool. My blood is a boil from the battle and I’m not thinking clearly,” he said and moved over to help Sorus unpack gear from the horses.
“That old magic is dangerous,” mused Germanius as they grabbed the mountain gear. “They could do things in the old days, you’ve never been to Doria, have ya?”
Sorus shook his head and said, “I hope someday.”
“The towers there, so high they’re in the clouds, and walkways between ‘em. It’s all magic, Old Empire magic from before men remember, from before Akiona I, before everything,” said Germanius and nodded his head as his voice slowly tailed off into silence.
“I heard that kings once ruled in Doria,” said Sorus, “is that true?”
Germanius shrugged his shoulders, “If so, it don’t much matter to you and me. It’s queens now and has been for as long as anyone remembers.”
“I guess,” said Sorus pulling out the last of the winter gear. He began to take off his clothes and put on the light wool underthings one layer at a time. “Gets cold quick, eh Germanius?” he said with a smile as he hopped into a pair of thick denim pants.
“It’ll be colder yet, but first it’ll be hot and bloody,” said Germanius as Sorus suddenly heard the call of the Ridgewayia Thrush and Jon Gray appeared around the corner, a narrow smile on his face.
“I found them,” he said, spotted the woolen clothes laid out on a rock and began to quickly change. “I thought we’d wait for a few hours until they’re mostly sleeping and then ambush.”
“How many are there and what’s their defenses?” said Germanius his hand on the hilt of his sword, “and was there any dragon sign?”
Jon shook his head. “I didn’t see a dragon but I saw a child of the dragons, big fella with wings and the rest of the dragon look, not a swamp reptile man by any stretch, or one of them little ones either. He was six foot at least and mostly green and white scales. They’re holed up in a cave about a mile from here. I watched them for a bit but there’s no telling how many are in there. I’d guess no more than a dozen judging by how many came out to piss while I was watching, but maybe they’ve got strong bladders.”
“A dozen?” said Sorus looking back and forth between Jon and Germanius. “That seems like a lot, we’re only three.”
“Surprise is the difference,” said Germanius. “Besides, you saw the goblin fellow run earlier, we hit ‘em hard and they’ll fold up sure enough, and then we find the dragon.”
“Don’t kill the dragon child,” said Jon. “I want to talk to him about the Staff of Sakatha, if any one knows it’ll be him.”
“I’ve don’t know much about them,” said Sorus, “does it really have wings?”
“We’ve got some south of us in the swamps,” said Jon. “Mostly they are just scaled folk with tails, not really much like a dragon, more like a lizard with two arms, two legs, and a head. The tough ones can have wings and sometimes they breathe fire or lightning so you gotta watch out. A bunch of them attacked Tanelorn a few years back when I was just a kid. I remember riding out with my dad and some of the gray druids but I didn’t do anything in the battle. Anyway, this one looked like he might be one of those tough ones with wings and lightning breath maybe.”
“A couple of years ago a snake looking one came through Black Dale but I was just five or six. I remember it had a forked tongue and a head like a snake but a body like a man except with scales,” said Sorus, his eyes half closed as he remembered the story.
“There are all kinds of children of the dragon,” said Germanius with a smile and shrug of his shoulder. “They die when you stick a sword in their belly just like everyone else.”
“Don’t kill him,” Jon repeated as he pulled on the last of his mountain clothes. “I want to talk to him about the staff.”
“You kin speak with the children of the dragon?” said Germanius and eyed the boy closely.
“My brother gave me this amulet,” said Jon, reaching beneath his woolen cloak and pulling out a small dragon shaped pendant. “If I wear this I can talk their lingo I guess,” he went on with a shrug of his shoulders. “If he knows where that staff is then I’ll have it out of him one way or the other.”
“Torture mostly don’t work,” said Germanius as he sat down on a nearby rock, pulled out a small knife, and began to whittle on a piece of wood.
“Works just fine from my memory,” said Jon as he paced back and forth and smacked his fist into his palm.
“Nope,” said Germanius, his old hands still skilled, as the stick slowly became a long, four legged, creature with a head full of teeth. “They just tell you what they think you want to hear, which is mostly just lies. After they tell you so much you pretty much don’t know what is a lie and what is true.”
Jon was silent for a while and Sorus looked at Germanius, “It sounds like you’ve seen something like that before?”
“When I was a kid, I wasn’t born in Elakargul,” said the old man. “I was a slave to the insect men; we worked the hives, us little ones with small hands were good for rooting out the bugs that got into the leaf farms. They’d whip us if we tried to eat any of the produce instead of the bugs. So, we’d mostly just lie but if the beating got too bad we’d say anything, say anyone was doing it whether they were or weren’t, it didn’t much matter, you just say anything to stop the pain.”
Jon and Sorus were silent as the old warrior continued to carve at the stick and it began to take the shape of a crocodile. “I won’t be part a no torture,” he said as he neared the end of his project.
Jon nodded his head, “I won’t torture anyone. Not now, not ever again. You’ve got my word as a gray knight on that Sir Germanius,” he said and looked at the old man with steady eyes.
Germanius said nothing but continued to whittle away until the thing looked just like a crocodile, “Show him this and see which way he looks,” said Germanius. “That’s one good way, another is to be nice, sometimes folks is glad to have a friend and they’ll say things.”
“How long before they’re asleep?” said Sorus and looked back and forth between Jon and Germanius.
“Hours,” said Germanius. “Sit down, do something, take your mind away, I like to whittle.”
“I like to make beer,” said Sorus with a smile on his face.
Germanius nodded, “I approve.”
Jon smiled as well, “I don’t think we’ve got the right ingredients or the equipment for that, too bad though. That’s a mighty fine brew you’ve got at the Smooth Stride. You didn’t bring a jug along by any chance?”
Sorus laughed, “Not a jug, no malt, no mash tun, not even a keg,” he said and held his arms out and shook his head. “Still, when this is all said and done I’ll brew us all up something tasty and we can drink it together.”
“Say a toast for me,” said Germanius. “I won’t be there, but I’ll be there.”
“We’ll do that,” said Jon and looked at the old warrior, “and we’ll find that dragon for you to fight as well. I can’t promise you anything too big but it’ll be a dragon at least.”
“Now, you boys,” said the old warrior pulling out a couple of more long sticks he had picked up along the day’s journey, “What’d ya know about whittling?”
Hours later they stood together outside a small cave a bit further up the hillside and watched the firelight from inside flicker in reds and oranges against the walls. A single creature, goblin, orc, or a mix between, stood at the cave entrance half asleep as he tried to keep his head up. He was so heavily bundled in woolens that he could barely move his arms, and Sorus had to keep from laughing as the beast tried to go to the bathroom without soiling itself. It was a near thing and they weren’t sure if he accomplished the mission or not.
Jon nodded to Sorus who fingered a long dagger as they watched, “Behind him and through the throat so he can’t cry out, just like Germanius showed you. Hold his head back so the blood has free flow.”
Sorus nodded his head and his hands were steady as he slowly moved down the rocky slope to where the creature stomped his feet for a moment, walked a few steps before it leaned back against the cave wall, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Sorus came up to the sentinel quickly, slipped the blade under his neck, and slit his throat with a quick motion. From even the short distance away that Germanius and Jon stood, they couldn’t make out the flow of blood, and the creature’s legs immediately gave way as the young brewer lowered him silently to the floor. A few seconds later all three of them stood outside the cave together.
Jon drew the massive stone sword from its scabbard and nodded his head in approval to Sorus while Germanius drew his own steel blade and the three moved into the cave with quick steps although not quite at a run. A few screams rang out a moment later, there was a strange little tinkling sound as blade hit blade, but only seconds later it was over.
Four goblins lay dead on the cave floor as pools of blood grew into large puddles that accumulated an indentation and were soaked up by heavy straw mats, while five more sat against the far wall their hands raised over their heads and their eyes wide with fear. A large orc moaned on the floor his left arm, still clenching a long blade, chopped off, while his right arm tried to staunch the flow of blood from the wound. Finally a strange child of the dragons sat on one of the straw cots his lips curled into a snarl, a dagger in his hand, but blood flowed freely from a deep stab wound in his upper leg.
Jon motioned to the orc against the wall and one of the goblins rushed over and began to attempt to stop the flow of blood with a heavy cloth jerkin bandage although it did little to help.
“Needs a tourniquet,” said Germanius to Sorus. “You know how to tie one?”
Sorus nodded his head and went over to help the goblin with the orc while Jon walked over the dragon creature as it took in a deep breath. Jon shook his head, the left side of sandy blonde hair flew freely while the right side was matted down with blood. “Don’t do it!” but his shout was not quick enough as a blast of greenish gas billowed out of its mouth towards the gray knight who dodged quickly to the right and only took a small part of the blast. Jon took a single stride forward and hit the creature in the head with the butt end of his sword, which sounded a loud crack. The dragon child immediately slumped over while Jon shook his head and put his hand to his eyes. “Burns like fire,” he said.
“Don’t rub it,” said Germanius. “Sorus get that jug of water there and rinse out his eye with it, I’ll keep watch on the prisoners.
Sorus, half-finished as he helped the little goblin tie the tourniquet around the stump on the now unconscious orc, quickly turned over the job to the orc’s ally. He then leapt up and followed Germanius’s commands and held the jug over Jon’s eye.
The gray knight squirmed away and tried to scratch at it as Sorus noted some blisters on his cheek. “Stop that Jon, let me get water in there,” he said, unstoppered the jug, and held it up.
“Smell that,” said Germanius and Sorus realized that he might be ready to pour beer or alcohol into the wound and brought the jug to his nose to make certain of its contents. He didn’t smell anything but decided to take a sip just in case and found it contained nothing more than water. He then held it over Jon’s eyes and quickly poured out a bit too much as it slopped over the lip in a rush. Jon pulled away and shook his head for a moment and then turned back to Sorus his eye closed and already swollen.
“Better give it another wash just in case,” he said and held open his eye with his forefinger and thumb as he knelt down and tilted his head back for another splash.
Sorus was a little more careful with the jug this time and managed to get a healthy dollop of the water on target. After a few more careful applications the young gray knight seemed to be somewhat soothed.
“Damn thing,” said Jon and took the jug from Sorus and poured it over his head. “I should have seen it coming.”
“You did see it coming,” said Sorus as he turned back to the prisoners and noted with satisfaction that they still sat huddled against the wall with no hint of aggression on their faces. “You missed most of it. I’d hate to see what would have happened if you got the full blast.”
“I’d not be as pretty anymore,” said Jon as he fingered his eye and Sorus could see redness even in the dim light of the cave.
“Tie them goblins up,” said Jon. “The orc is done for, he’s lost too much blood,” he continued and walked over to the unconscious creature whose arm was not effectively treated and the blood flow had slowed to a thick trickle. He grabbed the creature by the chin and turned his head first one way and then the other. “He’s finished. Shouldn’t have gone for his sword or he’d be alive today.”
“What about him,” asked Sorus and looked up from his job with a nod to the child of the dragon who still lay unconscious on the floor.
“I hit him pretty good,” said Jon, his huge stone sword now sheathed. “I don’t think he’ll be waking up for a bit but I didn’t bash his skull like I did that fellow down the hill. I meant to just knock him flat but I was a bit keyed up and hit him too hard.”
Germanius came over with a bucket of what looked to be dish water. “Put on that amulet,” he said and then threw the contents of the bucket on the child of the dragon with a splash. A moment later the creature sputtered to consciousness as it spit water from its mouth and tried to rise, although it immediately gave a cry of agony as the deep wound in its leg made itself felt. “Show him the carving,” said Germanius as he eyed the creature with a steady gaze.
Jon pulled out the wood statue the grizzled veteran gave him earlier in trade for his own more poorly carved specimen. The creature’s eyes widened for a moment and it looked towards a wall of the cave that was, to all apparent vision, nothing out of the ordinary. Sorus was by now finished with the goblins and immediately went over to the area to search it closely.
The wall of the cave didn’t look unusual in any way, sort of a dull gray with sparkly things in it, and Sorus couldn’t make out anything different in this section from any other area. “I don’t see anything,” he said over his shoulder.
“Take a branch from the fire,” said Germanius, “and bang around a bit,” he added with a nod of his head. “I’ll bet my left arm there’s something there, something to do with the dragon, or the staff, or both.”
Sorus came over, took a brand from the fire, and walked back over to the section of the cave where the creature looked a moment ago. The child of the dragon, for his part, looked anywhere but that area as it snarled at Jon. At one point it went to inhale deeply again but the Gray Knight punched him hard in the stomach, and it rolled over on its side and held its belly after that although the movement forced more blood from its leg.
“He’ll bleed to death if we don’t get that wound covered,” said Germanius to Jon as Sorus searched the back region of the cave.
“Go ahead,” said Jon. “I want to keep my eye on him in case he tries breathing that toxic goo on me again.”
Germanius nodded his head and began to pull some of the clothes off the dead goblins and rip them into strips. Within a few minutes he had enough to tie them around the upper thigh of the creature several times over and staunch the flow of blood. The beast didn’t squirm too much and managed to keep a snarl on its face the entire time.
“I found something,” said Sorus as he came back from the search just as Germanius finished with the wound. “There’s a notch in the wall or something, I tried to pull it and push it but nothing happened. Maybe I’m imagining it,” he finished with a shrug of his shoulders. “I didn’t see anything else suspicious looking. It might just be a natural indentation. I can’t tell a thing in this firelight. It’s hours until morning and I don’t like the idea of waiting here,” he finished with a look at the bodies on the floor and puddles of blood that slowly shrank as the straw sucked up the excess. The boy felt nauseous for a long moment and thought about going outside the cave to get some fresh air but then decided against it as Jon sat hunched over the strange dragon creature and whispered something to it as it continued to glare at nothing and remained silent.
“It’s something,” said Germanius as he came back. “Looks to me like a little piece fits in there. Search gas breath there is my bet,” he finished while he stared at the creature.
“It’s not talking any,” said Jon, “and I doubt the show it the statue trick will work again. “Sorus, you know what that notch looks like in the wall, see if you can find anything on the dragon child that looks like it might fit while I’ll go through his things. If he breathes in deeply give him a club to the stomach,” he finished with a nod to the young boy.
“My eyes ain’t what they used to be,” said Germanius. “Especially in the dark.”
“You looked like you could see just fine when you killed that one that was coming up behind me,” said Sorus as he reached down and pulled at the heavy wool shirt the creature wore. The shirt was empty but it’s pants pockets contained a number of strange items including a little silver stick like object with two curved projectiles coming off the end. “I think I found something,” said Sorus, holding it up to the light, and the creature suddenly hissed at him although the venom of the action was somehow less, the light in the creature’s eyes seemed to be dim. “It’s lost a lot of blood,” said the young brewer and looked at the blood soaked bandages that covered the wound. “I think you might have got him in a vital spot, Germanius,” he concluded.
“You were the one that stabbed him, Sorus,” said the old knight and patted him on the back.
“I was?” asked Sorus as he suddenly straightened up and looked at the older knight with his lips pursed. He scratched his head for a moment and then shook it back and forth. “I don’t remember that… well
… we rushed in and then Jon killed that one up front and I stabbed the other one and then… well… it happened so fast. It was like it happened slow then but now, I can’t seem to remember it. Did I really do it?”
Germanius nodded his head, “It was a fine blow just as it was going for its blade, right where you could put it down without killing it,” he said. “Maybe too deep and too close to the big blood veins in the leg but we’ve got what we need and prisoners are never easy to deal with when you’re a small party. Check his belt pouch, he’s probably got some silver or gold and we might need that before we’re done here in on the mountain. Them creatures deal in precious metals and we’re not in Elekargul anymore.”
Sorus rummaged around the creature’s belt for a moment and felt it stiffen in resistance, but then it slid down against the back wall and closed its eyes. Its breathing became shallower each moment and by the time the young brewer pulled a small pouch that made a satisfying chink sound from its belt it was clear the creature would be dead in a matter of moments. “Should we just let it die?” he asked as he looked down on it.
“We tried to bandage it,” said Jon with a shrug. “We can’t stay here and take care of it or they’ll be hundreds of them down on our head soon enough. Germanius is right; we use that thing you found, see what’s in the back of the cave there, and move on.”
Sorus stood for a moment longer and stared at the unconscious creature and the moment of the attack came back to him with terrible intensity. He remembered his sword when it cut down the first goblin as it turned to look at him with surprise the only expression on its face, then he turned to his right and saw the dragon child as it rose up from its position on the straw mat, a sword in its hand, and he stabbed forward with the tip of his blade as he had practiced so many times while he dreamed of knighthood. He remembered as he watched the other boys lucky enough to be chosen as squires while he still lay on the sick bed and wished he didn’t have to be the one with the weak constitution, that it was he who learned to be a squire, learned to be a hero of Elakargul. Then, after he sunk his blade into the thing’s leg, which had the same resistance as that goblin boy’s stomach down the hill, like a stab into a mass of straw, the flash out of the corner of his eye as the larger goblin came at him and Germanius struck it down with a casual swipe of his sword. “Will I ever be able to kill something so casually,” he thought to himself and then tried to imagine what he must have looked like to Jon and the grizzled knight while he stabbed the dragon child in the leg. “I wonder if they think about everyone they’ve ever killed,” he continued to muse to himself for a moment longer as the slow breath of the creature seemed almost ready to stop but then, just when he thought it was done, another ragged gasp came from the poor thing.
“Come along, Sir Sorus,” said Germanius. “We’ve got work to do and you’re going to have to figure out a name to take.”
Sorus looked at Germanius his eyes opened wide for a just a moment as he suddenly realized that his boyhood fantasy was a reality. He was a knight of Elekargul as pronounced by another knight. Somehow it wasn’t as great a moment as he imagined all those times.
“Not what you were expecting,” said Germanius and put his arm around the boy and smiled with the amazingly full set of teeth the veteran still had in his head.
“No,” said Sorus and shook his head. “I imagined it different but I guess it’s probably always pretty much like this.”
“It’s always different,” said Germanius. “I’ve knighted seven boys before you in my years and not one was the same. Someday you’ll be knighting boys and then you think of me now and again, won’t you?”
Sorus nodded his head, “I’ll never forget you Sir Germanius. I don’t think I could have done it without you.”
“Now, don’t get sentimental on an old fart,” said the knight with a smile. “This night is far from done and I smell dragon meat not far in our future. It’ll likely kill us all but you wouldn’t be the first boy knighted and killed in the same day. Not by a long shot.”
“What are you two talking about,” said Jon as he suddenly emerged from around the corner of the cave. “I untied the goblin boys. No sense letting them starve to death in the cave or get eaten by a bear. Where’s that key you found?”
“Right here,” said Sorus and pulled out the silver device. Jon looked at it for a long moment.
“I couldn’t find that notch of yours,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, “so the honor is yours. Just remember if there’s a dragon behind it then we let Sir Old Fart go first! Right?”
“Right,” said Sorus with a smile and Germanius let go a great guffaw. Sorus heard a scramble behind them as the goblins fled the cave but then began to look closely at the wall as he tried to find the little indentation he noted just a few moments before. It took him five frustrating minutes to find the thing but once he did the little silver key thing fit into it like a custom made lance in the hands of a veteran knight of Elekargul. Nothing happened for a long moment as the three stared at the silver thing glinting in the notch of the wall. Then there was a deep sort of grumble of a sound as the cave began to shake like in an earthquake.
Most of the volcanoes in the region were west of Elekargul in the territories of Doria and the orc realms, but there were still plenty of earth tremors, and Sorus knew enough of what they felt like not to be too frightened. Still, it was unnerving to be inside a cave under tens of thousands of tons of rock when an earthquake was going on all around you. It didn’t last long and the three men looked at each for a moment with eyes wide in the dim light of the fire.
“Did you see anything move?” said Jon and looked at Germanius, who shook his head and turned to Sorus, who in turn shook his own head and looked around. “Maybe it was back a bit,” said Jon and turned deeper into the small cave, “where we tied up the goblins.”
In a moment the three moved towards the rear of the cave and found the cause of the strange rumble. A large stone stalactite that ran from the ceiling almost to the floor along the wall had swiveled or twisted somehow to reveal a wide passage behind it, with a set of perfectly cut stairs, both wide and smooth, that led downwards, not into darkness but into light as evenly-spaced light stones were embedded into the wall to provide fine illumination for the trip down.
“I’ll be a two-legged dolphin,” said Germanius with a look of astonishment at the passage. “I been around a bit and ain’t never seed nothing like that afore.”
Jon Gray stared at it as well. “I have,” he said. “It’s Old Empire made for sure. Sorus, maybe you should head back and tell the people in town what we found.”
“The hell with that Jon,” said the boy, “and call me Sir Sorus if you don’t mind.”
Jon nodded his head, “You can call me fish for brains but that’s dangerous stuff down there, darklings, brain suckers, black things, if you come with us it won’t be pleasant.”
“Sir Fish for Brains,” said Germanius and clapped Jon on the back.
Jon laughed out loud as did Sorus. “Ok then,” said the young Tanelornian as he put his hand on the hilt of his sword and moved to the front. “Follow me.”