BlackThorn's Doom (7 page)

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Authors: Dewayne M Kunkel

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Epic

BOOK: BlackThorn's Doom
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He was not looking forward to the next leg of their journey, even if they survived the descent they still had to cross the plain and somehow enter the flaming heart of the volcano below, and defeat Sur’kar within his seat of power.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves he hoisted the pack upon his shoulders. The lightness of it bothered him. Their supplies were running low, should they succeed in their mission it was going to be a long hungry walk back to friendlier lands.

Yoladt looked out over the dark land and paused at the ledge. He looked uncomfortable and less sure of himself, the seeds of doubt clouding his judgment for the first time since leaving the lands of the Mahjie.

“I have led you thus far.” He said turning to look at each of them in turn. “With knowledge passed down among my people for countless generations. I must now confess that I know little of what yet stands before us.” His eyes darted to the distant volcano. “No Mahjie has ever ventured further than where we now stand.”

“Yoladt,” Casius said. “You have guided us well thus far. I for one am confident that you will see us safely to the land below.” A quick glance to either side showed him that his companions agreed.

Yoladt’s face relaxed, “Then we must move cautiously. Once upon the ledge we will be exposed. Ensure that no metal is left uncovered, one reflection and we are done for. Wrap your Morne cloaks tight about you and try to stay against the rock face.” He nodded to the plain below. “There is one choice to be made before we descend. Do we strive to cross the burning plain or swing north east and use the cover of the forest?”

“Which is safer?” Connell asked not liking either choice lying before them.

“Both are dangerous.” Yoladt replied. “The Muel’Don is filled with poisonous clouds and the rock is thin and may rupture underfoot casting us into pits of molten rock. As to what lies within the wood none truly know.”

“Sounds pleasant.” Connell muttered studying the way before them. “Swords and skill are of little use against gas and molten stone. The forest may be unknown but its dangers have not killed the trees. It is by that route I would venture.”

Suni nodded. “Connell has spoken my thoughts as well.”
Marcos looked to Casius. “As the sword bearer it is your decision to make.”
Casius stared for a few moments at the plain and the woodland beyond. “Under the cover of the wood.” He said.
“By Havoc’Mor then.” Yoladt said recalling the name from tales told to him as a child.
“It’s either hot coals or boiling water.” Connell said with a grin.

“It is always so.” Yoladt said stepping down onto the ledge. “Mind your footing.” He warned them as he started down along the cliff face.

Marcos followed with Suni after him. Casius took a deep breath and followed. He did not like heights but he knew should he slip Suni would keep him from falling. He trusted the Anghor Shok, the stead fast guardian of Marcos was as dependable as the rising sun. He looked skyward and shook his head for no sun shone here.

Behind him came Connell, taking up the rear, an uncharacteristic position for him. Ever since failing the test of the blade Connell had become quiet. He had learned something about himself he did not like, and was fighting an internal battle to come to grips with it.

What ever it was, Casius hoped he would work through it soon. He would need Connell’s strength more than ever in the days ahead.

The ledge was narrow, at times it descended so steeply that they were climbing rather than walking. Loose stone added to the danger and they had a few close calls when the rock beneath their feet began to slip.

The air grew hotter and fouler the further they descended. Becoming thick and humid, the stench of sulfur burned their throats and made their eyes water. The Unnatural winter had no hold here, in this damned place it was always summer. There was no breeze within the pit, heat sapped their strength and yet they pressed on.

The climb took them six hours. Upon reaching the shelter of the broken rock at the craters base, they tore off their heavy winter cloaks and collapsed onto the ground to rest.

Suni fared better than the others, he removed the dark cloak and stood watch within the shadows of a large boulder while his companions regained their strength, his dark eyes missing nothing.

He surveyed the fiery plain less than a half-mile away. He watched the noxious vapors drifting over the smoking stones and steaming dunes of ash and cinders. Nothing moved within its borders, an alien landscape hostile to all life.

Suni left his post and joined the others. “The forest is the wisest choice.” He said affirming their decision. “The Muel’Don offers only death to any who dare entering.” He shouldered his pack stirring the others into motion. “If we keep low and move among the rocks we can reach the forest unseen.”

Suni took the lead now, moving along deep clefts between boulders as large as houses they slowly followed the crater wall moving northeast.

They stayed within the stones until the first knotted branches from the trees extended out over them. The air changed growing only slightly cooler, and reeking of mildew.

It smelled so strongly of decay Casius thought he would gag from it. He tore a section of cloth from the hem of his cloak and tied it over his mouth and nose. This eased the smell somewhat but did not remove it completely.

“The hour grows late.” Marcos said looking into the vast expanse of sickly trees before them. “Let us back away to cleaner air and rest the night before entering the wood proper.”

Casius was grateful for Marcos’s suggestion. He was bone weary and did not think he could travel much further. He looked to the turbulent sky. With no sun or moon visible, he was curious as to how Marcos knew the hour.

Suni led them back up the slope, away from the wood. They found a sheltered space beneath a massive slab of rock that had fallen from the cliffs above long ago. One edge of the stone lay atop a massive boulder forty feet across.

The air was better with only a faint hint of the smell from the wood. Eating in silence each man fought off the exhaustion they felt until the meal was finished. Then they slept soundly, even though they were within the very heart of Sur’kar’s kingdom.

That night each man took his turn at watch; Casius did so late in the evening. He avoided looking up into the tumultuous sky; he found the roiling mass of cloud and flashing lights disturbing.

Marcos awakened them with the announcement that dawn had arrived. The lighting outside had not changed since their arrival, Tarok nor was still enshrouded in perpetual twilight.

They ate a breakfast of stale bread and leathery jerky. Washing it down with tepid water from rapidly diminishing supplies. Before making their way back to the forest edge.

Moving out of the rocks they entered Havoc’Mor. The trees were loathsome to look upon up close. The bark hung in shreds oozing milky sap that gathered about their roots in sticky pools. Where the bare wood was exposed it resembled the rotting flesh of a corpse.

The ground was littered with dead branches and cast off leaves. All about them large pale mushrooms thrust their crowns out of the detritus, and within the darkest shadows the fungi glowed with a pale green luminescence.

They kept to the forest edge; not wanting to face what may live in the forests depths. Moving east along the uplands rim. Through the leprous trees they caught occasional glimpses of the smoldering lowlands.

The stench of decay fouled each breath they took. Their clothing became streaked with yellowish stains from where they brushed against the hanging sheets of moss and bark.

The wood was still, only the sounds of the grumbling mountain and rumbling sky penetrated the trees. No animals were visible, only the sickly trees and knee-high mushrooms seemed to call this place home.

“Look well.” Marcos told them. “For this is the world Sur’kar would fashion out of the destruction he would bring down upon us all.”

Hours passed slowly within the silent wood. They stopped to rest around mid-day. Although they were hungry the mere thought of eating in the foul air nauseated them.

They sat in a small circle, their arms wrapped about their knees. No one wished to lean against the trunks; the pale wood seeping wet sap that resembled pus.

Connell’s head snapped up suddenly alert. “I heard something.” He whispered.
Sitting in silence they listened intently for any sound other than the persistent rumbling.
Suni pointed eastward. “Something walks this way.” He cocked his head to the side. “It is large and heavy.”

Grabbing their gear they moved further into the wood taking shelter in a thicket of tall reedy plants that reeked of rotted meat. The long thin stems were topped with an onion like bulb covered with a pale clear fluid that stuck to them if touched.

It was here that Casius saw the first sign of insect life. Something that resembled a bloated housefly landed on a bulb near his hiding place. The insect struggled and Casius watched in fascination as the bulb split and pulled the insect inside before closing once more.

Casius was torn from watching the plant devour the insect by the sound of snapping branches and dragging footsteps. Looking through the reeds he could see a large shadowy shape moving about where they had been sitting several minutes ago.

It moved bent over, its head close to the ground. Even in that posture Casius could tell it was far larger than a man. He let his hand drop to the hilt of his sword fearing the thing would charge them.

The reeds behind him exploded and a great hand closed upon his cloak. Before he could react he was lifted high into the air and thrown backwards into the trees.

He caught a glimpse of his assailant. It was a Morne of immense size. Its arms were too long for its hunch-backed body. Thick armor like plates covered its grotesque form.

He slammed into a tree trunk and the wind was knocked from him. He fell to the ground stunned and nearly unconscious. He knew his friends were fighting for their lives but there was nothing he could do.

The Troll sized Morne fell onto Connell and Yoladt, they fought well together keeping the giant at bay. If it lunged for one the other would step in and deliver a vicious cut that would barely mark the thick armored hide.

Marcos and Suni were busy with the second beast that had charged in from their resting place among the trees. Marcos moved like the wind, his bronze blade flashing in the twilight carving deep gashes in the beasts flesh.

Suni fought with his Kalmari, the iron rods striking with such force that the giant was nearly knocked from his feet with each blow.

Yoladt slipped in the crushed pulp of trampled vegetation and was struck by the creature. It was a glancing blow, one of the giant’s claws tearing a long gash across his forehead.

As he went down under the force of the strike Connell rushed in. With both hands he drove the point of his sword into the giants neck and up into its brain.

Dark blood gushed out and covered him as the beast fell onto its side dead. Wrenching his blade free Connell turned in time to witness Suni leaping onto the other attackers back. With inhuman strength he grasped the giants jaw and twisted until the woods echoed with a resounding snap as the brutes neck shattered.

Suni nimbly stepped off the falling creature and landed gracefully alongside Marcos. A quick look assured him that his charge had suffered no ill.

Marcos sheathed his blade and looked about, a worried expression upon his face. “Where is Casius?” He asked the exhausted men. “Casius!” He shouted no longer fearing discovery. The sounds of their combat should have been heard for several miles.

Connell and Suni looked about in the reeds fearing the worst.

“Over here!” Casius answered as loudly as his bruised ribs would allow. He levered himself up to his feet using the moist trunk of a tree for support.

His back ached and he had a large lump on the back of his head. Gritting his teeth against the pain he stretched out his back and inhaled deeply. Sprites of color swam through his vision and his balance was slightly off.

“Are you injured?” Connell asked looking his friend over.

Casius shook the cobwebs from his head. With a shaking hand he pointed to Yoladt. “I’ll be fine, nothing compared to Yoladt’s wound.”

The Mahjie warrior’s face was covered with his own blood. The deep gash across his forehead bled freely down his face and onto his clothing.

“What are they?” Casius asked Marcos walking to the nearest body.
“I do not know.” Marcos replied. “They appear to be kin to the Morne.”
“The Mahjie have no lore concerning them.” Yoladt answered with a grunt as Connell tightened a makeshift bandage across his brow.

Marcos nodded. “I doubt they have ever been seen by men before.” He said examining the face closely. “These were Morne once, but Sur’kar has warped them. He used his power to attempt creating a breed of great warriors.

“This forest is apparently his dumping grounds. We should be very cautious. More of his failures may wander this wood.” He stood and examined Casius more closely.

“You are fortunate indeed,” He said stepping back. “A few scrapes and bruises, nothing serious.”
“I wonder how many more of their ilk wander these trees?” Casius asked pulling on his pack.
“There may be many more, and some things far worse waiting to be discovered.” Connell answered.

Suni motioned for them to follow and melted into the brush, leading the way east. Though moving quickly he carefully choose a path that would leave little sign of their passage.

They traveled another five hours before settling in for the night within the scant shelter provided by a fallen tree.

Weary from combat and their arduous trek through the wood they forced down some food and fell fast asleep. All save Connell and Suni who had volunteered for the first watch.

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