The World Of Khoras - Tales - To Find A King
Slide
Kelverin sat down heavily in the snow and rubbed his sore feet. Hogarth stood nearby, one hand shielding his eyes from the sunlight, searching the great expanse. They stood at the edge of a cliff, high in the mountains. Before them sprawled a great vista. An ocean of air lay open before them and infinity seemed within reach. Kelverin enjoyed the breaks. Not just to rest, but also because he was able to enjoy the view. He was beginning to see the awesome beauty of which Hogarth so often spoke.
Far below them, an eagle soared, lazily riding the currents of warmer air. Kelverin, while not overly fond of heights, liked being up so high. Perhaps it was the thin air that made him feel so, but looking down eagles made him feel somewhat like a god.
Valdemar sat a few feet away, leaning up against a rock, fast asleep. Fenric was rumaging noisily biting into some fruit that Hogarth had said was edible. The chewing stopped abruptly followed by the sound of Fenric spitting his fruit out.
“Lady Fate frowns on us today, lads.”
“What is it?”
“They’ve found us. Five, on horses, over there! Everyone, move! Quickly!”
“How could they have caught up to us this quickly?”
“You’re the sorcerer, you tell me. They’ve no doubt got a worker of spells with them.”
Kel looked to where Hogarth pointed and was shocked to see how close their pursuit really was. Not much more than a hundred yards away he could see figures moving in the shadow of a rock outcropping. A steep rock face separated the two groups. It had taken Hogarth and the others only a few minutes to climb up it. But their pursuers would have to find a path their horses could manage. That bought them a little time. He counted four and then caught movement off to the left. A fifth. One, white haired and with the slender figure of a woman, leapt off her steed and grabbed a bow and let loose an arrow all too quickly. The arrow’s flight was erratic as the wind clutched at it. Even so, the arrow drove deep into the ground, sinking up to the fletching only four feet from Valdemar, waking him with a start.
All four fugitives scrambled to the feet and began running up the slope as fast as they could manage. The knee deep snow slowed them considerably. Another arrow followed them and another, stitching a trail as they went.
Hogarth stopped and turned his head. The others caught up with him and stopped as well. Hogarth inhaled deeply, sniffing the air.
“Now what?” said Fenric.
“Do you smell that?” Hogarth sniffed the air again.
“Smell what?” asked Valdemar.
Hogarth turned his head and inhaled deeply. “That!”
“I smell nothing,” said Kelverin.
“Come on, Garth,” urged Fenric. “It won’t take them long to get across that chasm.”
“Wait!” Hogarth paused, inhaling once more, as if to be sure. “Yes, follow me.” He started running off in a new direction. “This way!”
Fenric looked at Valdemar. Valdemar just shrugged.
“Well come one then,” said Kelverin, following after their scout, “before they manage to get up that slope”.
Hogarth’s trail veered off to the right. The other three followed as quickly as they could. Fenric and Valdemar each grabbed one of Kel’s hands and ran with him, almost lifting him clear out of the snow, his short legs pumping in the air.
Hogarth’s mad dash ended where sheer icy walls rose up out of the snow. The other three caught up to him and found him peering into a perfectly round hole in the side of the ice wall.
“This, my friends, is the Great Malusian Glacier!” He said proudly. “Or, at least one of the south faces of it”.
Kelverin peered into it. It was lit by a cold bluish light, sunlight filtered through a dozen feet of clear ice. It seemed to slope down and curve.
“We can’t hide in an ice cave. They’ll follow our tracks and have us for sure.”
An arrow sprouted from Valdemar’s back and he lurched forward, collapsing to his knees. All three whirled and looked. Their pursuit was still several hundred yards away, but they were coming and they were mounted.
“How in Kael’s name did they make a shot like that?”
“Magic” said Kelverin. “That arrow was enchanted just before it was fired. I can still sense the magic burning in it.”
“Well, now there’s no doubts,” said Hogarth, kneeling down beside Valdemar to examine the wound, “they’ve a spellweaver amoung them too”. Fenric stepped protectively in front of the other three, shielding them with his broad chest.
Valdemar’s wound was deep, but it had missed the heart. Hogarth gribbed the arrow in Valdemar’s back and snapped it off, leaving only an inch sticking from Valdemar’s back. With an effort, Fenric and Hogarth picked up Valdemar and pushed him inside the hole. Fenric, climbed in and quickly followed.
Kelverin stood at the edge of the hole and peered in. He watched Fenric quickly sliding away until he was out of sight.
“What are you waiting for? Go!”
“No, I couldn’t possibly. I’m really quite afraid of caves. Say, don’t bears live in-“
Hogarth picked Kelverin up over his head.
“Oh dear…” whimpered Kel.
“It’s not a cave!” said Hogarth. With a grunt of effort, he dropped Kelverin into the hole.
Kelverin fell with a wild shriek and the flailing of arms. He watched the small circle of blue light which framed Hogarth’s face and body speed away with frightning speed. His small body spun easily within the tunnel. His arms and legs groping and kicking, trying to find some purchase, were unable to reach the walls. The smooth interior of the tunnel was wet and slick and cold spray from his boots showered him. His small body spun around dizzily, veering this way and that. He was soon turned around three times over and completely disoriented. All that he knew was that he was hurtling down, into darkness and that he was picking up speed.
Distantly, ahead, he thought could hear the yells and cries of Fenric and Valdemar. Kelverin felt his stomach churn as he flipped over and landed on his belly. Icy spray continually pelted his face, blinding him. His finger nails dug into the icy snow, leaving long gouges behind. His tiny form shrieked through the darkness in a dizzying slide. Patches of light and dark overhead whirred past in a blur as he passed under cloudy patches of ice. A dull roar thundered all about him and he caught a glimpse of a whitish cloud of glittering snow that he kicked up as he passed.
He was quickly drenched and out of breath. His screams of terror had turned to gasps as he continued to claw and grasp, trying to slow his descent. The tube curved erratically sending him flailing about before rising sharply. His stomach bucked at the sudden change of direction. His momentum carried him through the curve and sent him hurtling up a slope.
With a sudden whoosh, he shot out of the tunnel. Blinding sunlight exploded all about him and he sailed through the air turning head over heel. He landed with a heavy thud in a bank of snow. The impact flattened him, driving the wind from his lungs in a sharp oof!
“There’s our brave wizard! I told you he’d been along.” He heard Fenric say. “That was some ride, eh?”
Fenric helped the grum wizard to his feet and brushed the snow off of his wet clothes. Fenric was also soaked and freezing, but seemed otherwise uninjured.
Valdemar was conscious, but weak and in pain. Fenric began tending his wounds, packing soft pine needles around the wound and bandaging it with strips that he tore from his own garb.
A scraping sound echoed from the tunnel and ended as Hogarth appeared feet first. Catlike, he landed on his feet, crouched and peered around cautiously, listening.
“What is it?” asked Kelverin.
He held up a hand for silence. Several moments passed. Hogarth listened and sniffed the air. Nothing. He stood and walked over to the others.
“You expecting to see enemies down here as well?” asked Fenric.
“Not likely, but possible. I was just checking to make sure it wasn’t still around. Sometimes, when they surface, they stop and rest.”
“Who rests?” asked Kelverin.
“Polar worms?” answered Hogarth as he knelt beside Val.
“By the gods, you mean that’s a polar worm tunnel?” said Fenric, amazed.
“It is.”
“Never thought I’d ever see one of those, let alone slide down it!”
Kelverin looked back at the gaping hole from which all four had just emerged. “Um. Excuse me. Are you telling me that that,” he said, pointing, “was made by a worm!?”
“The polar worm tunnels through the glacial ice. They heat it with their heads and swim through it with fins and ridges along the body. The sides of that tunnel were frozen solid so the worm passed through atleast several hours ago. But the smell is still fresh. So it wasn’t too long ago.”
“How did you know that tunnel was going to come out the other side of the glacier?”
“The worms can’t stay down forever. They’ve got to surface for air.”
“Do you think they’ll be coming down the same way we came?
“Perhaps. But not with their horses.”
“Well done Garth! Looks like we’ve evened the odds a little. By the gods, we may just live through this yet.”
“Let’s build a fire at the tunnel entrance. A big one. Then we can just let it burn while we hasten onward.”
“Aye, that’s a good idea,” said Fenric. “A good roarin’ fire might be enough to collapse the tunnel, this opening of it anyway. And if by chance one of comes down right quick, we’ll give ‘em a good surprise.”
The three bent to their task while Valdemar rested. They quickly gathered up pine cones, needles and branches from the few scattered pines and furs that stood nearby. When everything was gathered in a pile, Hogarth placed some grass on a flat piece of bark and began twirling a straight stick into the bark and grass as if boring a hole. A puff of smoke was followed by a flicker of flame. Hogarth gently placed more grass on it and blew, nursing it into a fire.
Fenric appeared dragging a small tree behind him. He began tearing off whole branches with his hands and handing them to Hogarth. In no time, a roaring fire stood in front of the tunnel.
“I think I can help a little” said the stout mage. He screwed up his face in concentration and pointed both thumbs at the fire. Slowly, it began to change color. First green, then blue. It’s flames leapt and crackled as if being fanned by the bellows. Tendrils of flame began curving toward the hole. Soon, a roaring column of flame was arching up into the hole, dancing along the insides of the tunnel.
“Well done! How long’ll it last?”
“Not long enough, I’m afraid. I’ve got a little magic left, but I’ll save that for Valdemar. I really need to rest, though.”
“Soon enough. But for now, we keep moving.”
Untitled
The clone prince shielded his eyes with a bandaged hand. Through squinted eyes he could make out the walls and towers of the city of Myranor. His city. Upon docking at port, they found horses waiting for them. The group covered the last few miles at a comfortable trot. The twelve riders surrounded the three rescued men in a protective formation. Tomolov was beaming with pride at his successful mission.
High above on the wall, the Gate Commander’s voice could be heard berrating a guard for dozing off. No doubt putting on a good show for the Prince. The gates were manned by twice the usual number of guards, all strictly at attention. Banners had been unfurled. A royal welcome. Indeed, news of the group’s approach had reached the city hours earlier from a scout and, judging by the bustling activity that could be seen, the news had travelled swiftly and now the whole city new.
Guards snapped to attention as the main gate swung inward and the riders trotted in. Tomolove nodded and smiled at the Gate Master who saluted the Prince. As they passed through the main curtain wall and into the main courtyard, a roar of cheers arose from the assembled crowds. Rose petals were showered down upon the riders from above.
Tyrus smiled and waved to the crowds, unused to such treatment, but enjoying it all the same.
Jerrik managed a weak smile and a small wave. Knowing their fatigue, Tomolov ordered his men to clear the way ahead and the fifteen riders pushed through the crowd toward the castle with all possible haste.
At the stronghold’s gate, they were met by the Honor Guard who escorted them in and closed the doors behind them, leaving the crowds and their muffled cheers outside.
“Have Garamand tend to the Prince’s party immediately,” Tomolov said to the waiting chamberlain. “I want hot food and clean clothes for these three at once. And then let them nap, with a guard at the foot of each bed. Convene the High Council in three hours.”
“As you wish, m’lord”.
This page last updated Wednesday, December 24, 2008. Copyright 1990-2009 David M. Roomes.