CHAPTER 22 - ENDURANCE
Corvus was unstoppable; he rode Patch straight through the deep snowdrifts in the most direct route possible. Pushing the panting pony hard he had no time to traverse around them and he continued to follow the line of single pony tracks, as he had an urgent deadline to meet. With a snow-encrusted beard and numb extremities, he had already endured a lot, yet still struggled on through the bitter cold. Both Corvus and Patch were totally exhausted, they were wet and shivering and he knew that he was close to hyperthermia due to the extremely trying night that they had both endured.
After leaving the shrine the previous day he had covered several leagues on foot, jogging along at the standard Nordheim military pace – run one league, walk another and so on, until the blisters stop you. Moving around an area of prickly bushes he had been relieved to find one of the mounts that they had previously used that day. The Su-Katii had scattered the horses before entering the shrine. What an amateur, he thought – he would have killed them all to be sure. Tress’s contented pony had been happily grazing on a thistle bush and was not at all spooked by his rapid arrival. Had it been luck or had the magician had a hand in this as well? It appeared to Corvus that this Tamar fellow seemed to have his finger in too many pies for his liking. He was beginning to realise to his horror that he had now placed his total trust in this ‘Tamar’ and he didn’t like it one bit. As King of a harsh and savage nation he had never placed his trust in an outlander and this was a new and worrying experience for him.
Thinking back to the morning when he had been laid out on the cold floor of the shrine unconscious, he had awoken with his head spinning and a rare clarity of mind which was almost dreamlike, enveloping him. The magician’s astral form had casually walked around him in conversation but fortunately he was a different magician to that of the dark robed Wizard that had bartered for Amiria’s life. He was the one that Tress had spoken about – Tamar. He began explaining the recent events of the world, before finally coming to the real reason for his communication.
‘Corvus, I’ll be straight with you. I have a task that urgently needs completing it will take you to the nest of the enemy and I need your help. Are you up to the job?’
‘I’m up to anything that will hit back at those bastards, but your job will have to wait, I have my own agenda. My remaining son is being held as a royal exchange hostage, and with the death of my rival king’s son …whilst in my care, his life now hangs in the balance. I must gather what remains of my kingdom and men and free him, with force if necessary, before the news of his dead son travels.’ Corvus paused in contemplation, allowing Tamar to make his case.
‘What about Athene? Have you abandoned hope for her? She is being taken to the very place where I seek to send you, she badly needs your help and the survival of the nations may also be tied to her fate. Should she be of use to Bellack, it could forever change the world as we know it. Come on man, you have already witnessed some of these changes in Nordheim, the first of many changes to come.’ Tamar’s image had paced around the king during their conversation like a caged animal. Corvus did not like his body language one bit.
‘I cannot give up my family to rush out after a wench that I just met a few days ago, I’m responsible for a nation and have a duty to any survivors.’ But I’ll grant you, she did have nice hair and a fine figure, well once she was out of the baggy cloths that she seemed to favour, he thought to himself.
‘No I’m sorry, what do I care of your problems? My answer is NO, I have already lost one son, my other one needs me,’ his reply was stern.’
Tamar listened disappointedly, yet he never entered negotiations without an ace to play.
‘You will run into your fate, even when you try to escape it, but if you agree to my words, you will at least know what path to take and be prepared for what awaits you. If not both you and your son will be dead within the week. Our paths are aligned – where I need you to go, you will find Athene and your wife alive.’
‘What, but she’s…’
‘No Corvus, she is no longer a beast and lives again as a human, only the creator has the power to return the beast back into the person, Bellack had already restored her when he made you the offer for the exchange for Athene, he had to transform her back to gain the intelligence on you from inside her mind, I know this because I have seen these events in Bellack’s mind. He was desperate to get her exchanged and she is presently languishing in his dungeons. If you do as I say and carry out my task you may still have time to save her. I can assure you that if you take on my mission I will weave a spell that will enter your rival king’s mind, convincing him that your last remaining son Rikard’s life will be of value to him in the trying times ahead. You will be free to complete my task, rescue your wife and perhaps even exact some revenge, I could have just used my magic to convince you of this, but I still believe in giving the true of heart a chance. Unfortunately for your rival King, he is an abuser of innocents and I will not afford him the same courtesy. All that I’m sure of is …if you delay your wife will die Corvus.’ At last this Tamar was starting to some make sense to him.
‘Wizard, if you can read minds you would see that I have done far too many terrible things in my time, perhaps you weren’t watching me then?’ said Corvus, rolling his eyes in disgust at himself.
‘I can’t watch everything that goes on in this world, but I can see what is deep within a person’s heart – I wish I couldn’t sometimes, but we can only play with the cards we are dealt. So do we have a deal then King Corvus? My task only requires the use of your axe and then you are free to do as you please, rescue your wife or help free Athene and then we will take it from there.’
‘Go ahead and tell me more of what is required, wizard, but if you are lying to me, I will come back and snap your neck,’ threatened Corvus menacingly.
He had listened to the magician’s plans intently, committing every word to memory. The vision faded and as he came to, his head was thumping as if he had polished off a barrel of ale. Groggily he had gathered up his weapons, removed a bag from Lewem’s decimated corpse and began to stagger back up through the eerie silence of the deserted shrine.
He had known that he would have little chance for rest on his pursuit to the second shrine and as the sun had gone down he had came across the two hunters who had attempted to keep their camp fire low. Excited with the news that their king was alive they had informed him of their encounter with Titus, he was a little surprised at the killers’ good behaviour, but from the encounter he knew that they had perhaps five or more hours on him. After being supplied with food and extra furs to keep him warm, they had waved their king off again, uplifted that they still had a leader for these dark times.
His pace had slowed in the darkness, yet he could ill afford to ride with the careful attention that was usually required at night. One rock or pothole would be all that was necessary to leave his pony lame. Even worse, tonight the screams of many beasts, now feral and wild, could be heard individually roaming the land. At first, the change in the weather had been a blessing and the heavy snowfall helped to obscure him from the beasts that were closing in on him, but as the blizzard got progressively worse, he knew instantly that it had the potential to kill him. Caked in snow and freezing, his chainmail armour would be a death trap, even with the under-garment padding, the weight of the cold steel links forced the coldness closer to his body. Because the blizzard had struck so quickly and the fearful cry of the beasts were so close, he had not had sufficient time to stop and tackle the complicated ties and awkward angles required to remove the armour. He rode on freezing in the thick snow, hoping to put some distance between him and the enraged howls that carried through the night, when he suddenly remembered Lewem’s bag that he had been instructed to pick up. With the feeling in his fingers fading fast, he managed to untie the lid by pulling the strap free with his teeth. Bending over in the saddle with his hood down against the total whiteout that faced him and annoyingly blew into every exposed crevice, he struggled desperately to get into the contents. With his hand shaking uncontrollably he reached inside. The crystals and diamonds jiggled about the bag due to Patch’s struggling movements through the snow, but eventually he was able to locate several blue crystals, which he smashed against the large axe-head that was slung from his saddle. Quickly, after enjoying the growing warmth against his hands for several seconds, he shoved the glowing crystals down his top where they would do the most good. Not forgetting Patch he had held two crystals against the pony’s sides as he clung on low, huddled against the beast for maximum warmth.
Titus’s plan of escape had been easy to read and he had needed no wizard to guide him through his own lands as he knew well the location of the second shrine which had been damaged and pillaged after a landslide when he had been no more than a babe in a cot. Even with the second shrine under the rubble of the landslide, it was likely that it would retain its powers to increase the range of the portal diamonds, through its proximity alone - many of the underground quarters remained untouched as they were now totally inaccessible.
He had found the partially consumed bodies of slain beasts soon after, none of which were human remains, which meant it likely that those he sought were still alive. Judging from the marks of the struggle that had taken place, there had been quite a battle here as the smashed and splintered trees were testament and the carcass of a pony could be seen in the undergrowth. This was good as it would slow them. Later in the morning, Corvus had found the cabin and, after cautiously approaching, had warmed himself quickly against the still-warm embers that he managed to fan back into life. He had got lucky with his breakfast and rapidly consumed a pot of burnt porridge left in the hut, it was rank but it would supply him with the much needed energy that he would require to continue the pursuit. Shortly after setting off again and feeling renewed from the brief respite from the elements, his horse became skittish. Corvus trusted the creature’s sixth-sense as animals often had better senses than the rider, so he freed his axe from its sling in case of trouble. He scanned the path ahead, the bushes were a good distance from the snow covered path that continued up and around the hill side, he carried on cautiously smelling the air, hearing the slightest sound he twisted around to check behind him, nothing. As he turned back to face his front, a flash of movement caught his eye and his axe was instantly raised from its low slung position over the saddle. A stoat continued its mad dash across the path, Corvus exhaled with relief.
‘Spooked by little creatures now, are we?’ he remarked to himself holding his last word as he looked up. Just around the slight bend in the path crouched a green, scale-covered possessed one chewing happily on a pony rib, it was clearly identifiable as female, as its naked form still showed some vague lady-like features about it. The creature opened its mouth and hissed at him with disgust, its black forked tongue dripping with saliva as it did so, thinking what a tasty snack he would make. It began to advance towards him on all fours through the deep snow. His first thoughts for some reason were stupidly to wonder which one of his people this beast could have once been, as even malformed by the magic this creature looked familiar, but then he had known a lot of ladies in his time, some a little better than others. He was instantly drawn away from this puzzle as the beast broke into a frenzied charge towards him.
He moved in the saddle exactly as he had repeated a hundred times before in battle. ‘Move low to the right and start your swing before you are on top of your opponent, to allow for the extra movement carrying your opponent closer to their doom.’ His two-handed axe had a lot better reach than the green talons that snaked up at him and his axe carved through the beasts rib’s just under the shoulder as it reached up for him, halting the creature’s attack. He backed his mount away from the wounded beast as it still clawed the ground, trying to drag its mangled body and open fangs towards him. After several minutes of blood loss the beast finally died. He dismounted and struck the beast once again to be certain. He looked down at the corpse then quickly turned his face back into his horse with watery eyes as he recognized the birth mark that still showed on the creatures left breast after its transformation. This creature had once been Elsa, his first love as a teenager who had taught him how long winter nights could be spent in a better way. He had repeatedly teased her about her unusual dark birthmark which reminded him of an extra nipple. She had always jokingly replied.
‘Well my Lord, a future king should never settle for the norm, he should always aspire for more. Once you have had a woman with three, you will feel robbed with anything less.’
She had been wrong, but he had always remembered her with the soft spot that a man always harbours for his first love. Although an elder conquest with your language teacher for your first relationship was always going to be a lot of fun, it would never really work. The ensuing gossip in the royal court of a prince, rutting with a foreign scholar, had seen to that.
‘Goodbye my first dear love, you should have left Croweheim all those years ago when I asked you to.’ he whispered to the beast’s body with a tremor in his voice, then wiping his eyes clean he mounted up again to continue his pursuit, a burning rage soon replaced his tears.
Eventually he neared the ruins of the sunken shrine and Tamar’s voice came to him unexpectedly like a bell ringing in his head.
‘Corvus. Stop where you are now. Move no closer to the shrine or you will be discovered. Your timing is perfect, but you just need to wait a few moments longer where you are.’ He was already getting fed up with these annoying voices in his head and wanted to get this mission over and done with, just to be free of this annoyance alone. The wind whistled around him as he remained still in his saddle, he could swear that he could hear a faint voice in conversation in the distance, and on hearing a female’s scream it took every ounce of will power to remain where he was.
‘Count down from ten, then ride like your tail is on fire through the open portal.’ boomed the voice in his head again.
‘Remember your mission, but I’m afraid my powers can no longer help you once you have passed through the portal, good luck.’ Tamar’s voice faded as Corvus counted backwards from ten. Three, two, one he counted silently in his head and then spurred Patch into life. Snow sprayed in all directions as the exhausted mount summoned up its remaining strength and thundered down and around the scattered rubble into the ruins. The pony’s footing became firmer as the snow gave way to the circle of greenery in the centre. His view was fixed on the transport portal ahead which was still open and crackled and hissed as Patch hurtled towards it, unbothered by the noise.
‘Stay open, stay open, you son of a bitch,’ he repeated and almost shouted as he crossed the final few yards towards it.
The frightened pony skidded to a halt before the entrance of the portal, refusing to go any further. Corvus clutched his large axe and leapt down to run full pelt towards the magic Vortex, diving through the transport portal head first he passed through it just in time, as it closed seconds behind him.
Tress had made good time along the cart track with her commandeered pony, it was late afternoon and she realised that the horse had been invaluable. Stopping at a fork in the track, she observed an old marker stone. Chiselled roughly on it, she read ‘Masterstone Quarry, Bacu, 2 Leagues,’ a jagged arrow pointing to the right. She was now very close to her destination so she rode on for almost a further league, then dismounted and sent the horse running back from the way she had just come. There would be no quick getaway from this mission, as from here on in stealth would be her only ally. The track had fed into a slight valley, just as Tamar had described to her, a small copse of trees was all that remained of the woodland that had once filled the valley. The slopes of the valley were hewn with roughly-cut tree stumps, the timber from which was now employed deep within the mine shafts that lay beyond. The stone structures and timber roofs that made up the mine complex could just be seen as Tress approached. She could also see the Aristrian sentries guarding the entrance. With her cloak tightly wrapped around her, she closed in, but after her encounter with Titus and the damage it had sustained she now had doubts about the cloak’s ability to conceal her. Tress decided she would not risk getting too close if she could help it to increase her odds.
Her cautious approach to use stealth early had paid off, because as she moved towards the mine she now noticed movement high up in the remaining trees of the copse. Amongst the branches she spotted a bored looking man sitting wrapped in a blanket observing the land. He had a large horn hanging from his back and was positioned with a good view of the moorland from where Tress had approached, obviously an advance lookout, ready to raise an alarm. Her years of experience and procedures paid dividends today and from his almost sleepy demeanour, she knew that the guard had not spotted her stealthy approach. She spent as long as the situation permitted to assess all of the guards’ patterns, then quickly made a final check on her equipment and tightened any loose straps before moving out. The Dragon’s Thunder jars and the vial of liquid that Tamar had provided her with were still secure. Tamar had guaranteed her that the vial’s acidic contents would shatter the huge Moomran crystal that it was her mission to seek out and destroy. Once poured onto its surface the magical mixture would render the crystal unusable for its intended purpose – the freedom of the God Queen Soredamor. She slipped past the outer sentries into the large courtyard and gasped at the sight of the huge crystal resting on a large bed of sand. When she had been asked to destroy the crystal she had envisioned something the size of a man’s head. Being the size of a large wagon the oddly smooth surface of the crystal glistened with the light of the late afternoon sun and dwarfed the men that bustled about it. Amid a hive of activity, the Aristrian troops were untethering the teams of horses and removing the large logs that had been used as rollers to extract it. The path of logs led back to the enlarged mine entrance. Along the far side of the courtyard a group of Tanarian miners lay exhausted, still chained together and silent. The amount of noise and commotion in the yard was a great advantage as it would lessen the chance of her detection. She instinctively moved into the shadows of the huge open structure of the stables to the right. Most of the horses were still tethered within the stables, but moving amongst animals was always a risk. She noted the dark-cloaked acolytes moving amongst the troops, muttering their mystic enchantments from the darkness of their hooded faces. Some of them were obviously making the first preparations for a powerful transportation spell while others had started drawing a large pentagram about the imposing Moomran Crystal and were planting smaller green crystals into the sand and around the points of the pentagram. There must have been a thousand people in the complex, each going about their tasks or resting by the buildings. Tress could plainly see that there would be no easy way to get close to the crystal, even with her cloak. A horse whinnied to her right, seemingly spooked or was it just her overactive senses? Her heart was pounding with the nervous excitement of the moment. She had always retained a thrill at being dangerously close, whilst remaining unobserved. It was almost like a drug habit, she could remember this sensation from the enforced missions during her days in slavery - the familiar rush of adrenaline that she would feel, she had never been able to fully kick the habit.
It was an Aristrian cavalry mount that had first detected her and become skittish. Vicious, and bred for endurance, they were much larger than the local speckled ponies from the surrounding hills and this one had definitely sensed her presence. Fortunately, there were more than enough horses here to make an effective distraction and with what she had planned it would allow her to make a concealed approach in the ensuing confusion up to the crystal.
Tress moved away from the nervous animal whilst she mulled over her decision to use the horses. How had the Tanarians fared this morning? Had they broken out of the hills? She realised that there wouldn’t be any help from them today even if they broke out immediately they could not cover the ground that quickly; perhaps it would be before midnight at the earliest. She knew all too well that the Acolytes were about an hour away from completing their magical preparations that would teleport the crystal back to Bellack. She would have to risk a distraction, as to wait for the army would mean failure although any action to disrupt and delay the ritual of transportation would be of some benefit, as by delaying them, they would have to go back over some of the magical rituals again or maybe even restart it from the beginning. However, they would need to be disrupted more than once to delay them for the amount of time that she needed and it could all be in vain, as the Tanarian army may not have even broken out of the mountains yet, if at all? It was apparently clear to her that she would need to destroy the crystal on her own.
With so many people in one small area this was indeed a dangerous mission for her,’ she considered. ‘How had she let that magician talk her into it?’
If she managed to destroy the crystal there would be a thousand people after her and the acolytes were also skilled in magic. Her amulet would hide her from the usual searching spells, but when you know someone is this close, there were other darker ways of discovery. With a curse at the growing task, she moved into the stables drawing her dagger as she began to work her way behind the unsettled animal’s cutting all the leashes that she could find. The noisy unease from the animals attracted the attention of two solders, who were too preoccupied with their deep conversation to stand any chance of detecting her. They moved along the stables checking on the horses, they were fairly nonchalantly in their approach, chatting about the whores and bars that they were going to frequent when they returned home. Tress remained perfectly still until they were fully satisfied that it was just the rats that had annoyed the horses and moved off. She took one of the prepared jars of Dragon’s Thunder from her belt strap and backed up to the rear wall of the stables. Closing her eyes and averting her face from the burning flash that she knew would follow, she threw the jar onto the hay-strewn floor with great force. The jar smashed instantly, mixing the combustible contents and producing a mighty flash, which then set the hay alight.
The hysterical horses panicked and stampeded out of the stables in all directions. Men were knocked to the floor and trampled, others scrambled for safety as confusion reigned in the camp. Tress immediately took advantage of the distraction that she had created. Moving with lightning speed behind the terrified animals, she clutched her magic cloak and dashed towards the crystal, her hands trembling with adrenaline as she clutched the vial and ran over the strewn sand to the great stone.
A grizzled looking Aristrian sergeant bellowed out to his troops.
‘Stand to men and keep your eyes peeled.’
He walked coolly out through the mine entrance pulling the men back into shape and obviously knew a distraction when he saw one. It was too late for Tress to stop now, she was committed but it all seemed to happen in slow motion as her heart thumped heavily in her chest. Several astute men had remained near the crystal during the distraction and would need to be dealt with swiftly. She pulled her sabre free, arcing back her cloak and the nearest man fell instantly and silently with his windpipe cleanly severed. The second man fell as he started to turn, Tress’s arm jarred as her sword clanged against the man’s helmet and the impact hurt her arm, but the blow still managed to drop the man. One acolyte, distracted from his task of etching the symbols of power on the ground, looked up at the intruder and began to chant a spell. Tress quickly whispered the words that she had learnt in the service of her old master Zerch, many years before. The cantrip instantly glued the acolyte’s tongue to the roof of his mouth ceasing the terror that he was about to unleash. She quickly placed the thin vial in her mouth to free up one hand, her cloak swirled backwards as she reached into her baldric. Tress’s throwing knife thudded into the man’s dark hood, sending him reeling backwards to the ground. Tress jumped backwards from the path of a panicked horse. Hugging in close to the large crystal she quickly pulled out the acid vial from her mouth, thankful for the sturdy magical glass not breaking in her teeth, but as her hand was about to pull off the stopper, a crossbow bolt suddenly flew across the yard and punched her from her feet, sending the vial flying from her hand backwards into the sand. She slowly looked down in disbelief at the bolt embedded deep through her leather breastplate and into her chest. She tried to breathe but no air entered her lungs. Panic was quickly overtaken by the darkness that enveloped her.