Greyrawk (Book 2) (11 page)

"I can't see anything. What's waiting for us?"

"There are some large cats but they will scatter shortly," said Alarie Skye. "The larger creatures making all the noise are Hiataneti, an armored creature the size of a pony. They have many crab-like characteristics. We don't see them much."

"It's the Men blood that calls them," said Jerue Adan. "Ward us, Alarie."

She saluted and rode ahead to intercept the Hiataneti. She moved left of the trail to allow the others to pass. She lowered her spear, the tip glowed red, and charged into the dark mass approaching her.

"But aren't we going to help her?" asked Brandalay. "She's outnumbered!"

"She is doing her duty for the Celaeri," said Ioane Adan. "She is sworn to protect Jerue Adan and myself. Come, let us continue."

"She might die!"

"There is that possibility," agreed Ioane Adan.

"You can't let her die!"

"Brandalay," said Jerue Adan. "You do not raise your voice to a Celaeri. Be thankful you are safe with us. Alarie Skye knows her duty. You must learn yours. Come!"

Brandalay looked to Greyrawk who was riding close to Ioane.

"Ian knows his duty," said Ioane Adan. "He is to bring back our people. Go! If you wish to die with her, we shall remember you both in our songs." They turned away and did not look back, not even Greyrawk.

Brandalay looked to Alarie Skye, whose spear sprayed black blood from the head of a creature. Another Hiataneti's claws raked the flank of her horse, causing it to rear and nearly pitch its rider.

Brandalay spurred his horse to join Alarie Skye. There were six creatures now and she was bloodied and tiring.

He drove his sword into the back of the nearest creature. The blade cracked through the armor shell and the creature tried to turn toward him. Brandalay pushed the sword deeper and twisted it. The creature roared in pain. Brandalay pulled out the sword and struck the articulated neck several blows and the creature fell. Two others were charging him. Brandalay's horse danced out of the way of the snapping claws. Brandalay unsheathed the short lance he carried for fighting knights and pierced the head of the nearest creature. He brought his sword down on the head of the next one and its legs buckled but did not go down. He dismounted and charged, driving the sword point into the maw of the creature and driving the tip out the back of its head. He looked for others but Alarie Skye was pulling her spear from the carcass of the last one.

"Thank you, Brandalay. I would have fallen had you not come to my aid."

"I asked the others, but they wouldn't help."

"It is my duty to protect the Adan's at the cost of my life."

"They care so little for you."

"Do not be quick to judge my mother and grandfather."

"What? You have a resemblance to Ioane, but she looks too young to be your mother."

"Again you are seeing with your Men eyes. The Celaeri blood you carry must be much diluted. I am over a hundred years old by your reckoning. Ioane is over three thousand and I cannot guess the age of Jerue Adan. He is eldest."

"Give me a minute to take this in." Brandalay exhaled long, running his hand on his forehead. After several moments he smiled, looked at Alarie Skye and said, "You are very pretty for a hundred."

"I had heard Men used such flattery, but I never thought to hear it myself. As it is, I thank you for your sentiments, although I know not how it is helpful to our situation. We still must reach the citadel before more Hiataneti return."

"I agree. Those things are not easy to kill."

"They are not meant to be. Did you think they were supposed to be easy?" Her expression was quizzical. Brandalay started to explain his remark, and then thought better of it.

"Never mind. We still have a communication gap. Let's try to catch Ian and the others."

"Ah, Ian. He is your friend?"

"Yes, a recent friend."

"Then you have not sensed the changes in him?" asked Alarie Skye.

"What do you mean?"

"He is becoming Celaeri. He will kill your people to make room for us."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you saved my life and I think you could be a friend. I want to speak honestly to you. I do not want to stay in the shadow lands, but what will be the cost? Jerue Adan hates Men and will begin a war to cleanse this land of them. He has planned for centuries, this revenge gnawing at him. He carries blackness within him. I do not want you to die, Tarlac Brandalay. You have a kind heart; Celaeri do not have kind hearts. I wish my brother were here; he would know what to do."

"Is he at the citadel?"

"No. He left years ago. He is my half-brother. He is not full Celaeri and did not appreciate the nuances of Celaeri culture. He did not keep to Jerue Adan's leadership and wanted to see the world. He was headstrong and full of fun. Fun is a difficult concept for Celaeri. I miss him."

"Where is he?"

"I do not know where he is, or how to contact him. I can only wish for him and think about him. Ioane can tell when I think about him and she strikes me or sends me on dangerous tasks. I was thinking of him, earlier, perhaps that is why they did not aid me. In any case, they expected both of us to be dead by now."

"Let us go and disappoint them."

The roads of Anavar are similar to Amloth's roads; out of sight of the walls of the cities armed bands waited for travelers. The larger cities would send out patrols in the spring and summer to keep the roads open for merchants. Merchants hired guards for their journeys but most travelers couldn't afford guards and tried to join merchant caravans for safety. The bandits left no survivors and seldom attacked when the odds did not favor them.

From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.

They had found cover a dozen yards back where large rocks nestled close to a gnarled tree. Dvorak was bleeding steady but the wound wasn't deep nor in a vital place. Moria set to cutting out the arrow out of his shoulder; about six inches lower than the previous one back on Anavar. An arrow stuck out of Hobart's cap but no one else had been injured.

"Why do they always hit me?" said Dvorak. "Archers on Anavar hit me and now archers on Amloth hit me. We shouldn't have come here. Petty bandits are killing me."

"Fat men are an easy target," said Moria. "Besides, maybe they thought you were a rich merchant. They are hard to resist for a bandit."

"I'd hired better guards than this lot," said Dvorak.

"You couldn't afford the Talos Company," said Kerreth. "Now keep quiet, I need to know our situation."

Kerreth scampered to where Loric watched the road.

"How many?" asked Kerreth.

"Ten at least," said Loric. "There is someone pinned down behind those rocks. I think we wandered into an ambush in progress. They haven't flanked us yet. I will go around the left and see who their intended victim is."

"Good. Elberra, you have the right side."

"Yes." Her voice was full of venom. Whoever attacked them would gain the full force of her simmering anger and for that, Loric was glad. Elberra had difficulty setting aside her grievances. Once it took her seventy years to forgive Loric for something long forgotten by everyone including Loric.

Kerreth had both his swords in his hands and Hobart set out several arrows in the ground before his position for quick shooting. He tested his bow and nodded to Kerreth.

They had traveled for less than two hours north out of Andara, the coastal capital of Cresida when the bandits attacked. This puzzled Kerreth, as the Talos Company looked to be a fighting band, not merchants. They had no trunks or mules laden with supplies. There seemed to be no logical reason for the bandits to engage them. Perhaps Loric was right and they had stumbled into someone else's problem.

Elberra's war cry filled the sky and the bandits shouted as the blue demon rushed them. Loric and another sword wielder rushed from the other side. Kerreth stepped forward, twirled his swords and charged ahead, feeling the snap of Hobart's arrows pass him and strike two of the bandits. Kerreth spitted one bandit, but stopped. His shoulders drooped; all the bandits were dead. Elberra, Loric and the woman traveler dispatched them with precision. The woman was tall, lean and her tan freckled face was framed with wavy red hair. She held her sword expertly and was not breathing heavy. Kerreth noticed the rings on her fingers. The silver pinky ring was familiar to him, as he had fought against it and for it years ago. She was a mercenary. The ring was the sign of the Red Boars Company. It was a mostly honest business entity.

"You have deprived me of what little enjoyment I find in life," said Kerreth, brandishing his bloody blade. "I think that is mutiny. What do you think?" He asked the woman next to Loric.

"Depends on what you expect from your soldiers," said the woman. "For myself, if I was their commander, I would be pleased that the threat is gone and no one escaped."

"Threat? Were we threatened?"

"Only in theory," said Loric. "But our new companion would not know that."

"Of course, she is blameless in this disrespect of your leader," said Kerreth. "I will have to take this under consideration."

"Are you blabbering without introducing yourself to our guest?" asked Moria, walking up behind Kerreth. She pulled him to her and kissed him. She opened her arms in welcome to the woman. "I am Moria Albalen. This lump is Kerreth Veralier. Tall blue and beautiful is Elberra Turan. Dvorak Annis sits back there nursing another wound. This little Tuor is Hobart Hufflen. The rogue next to you is Loric Greyrawk. Watch his hands."

"Greyrawk!"

"Yes. Are you familiar with the name?" He brushed back his hair and offered his best smile. Moria rolled her eyes.

"Obviously," said Elberra, shaking her head.

"Are you related to Ian Greyrawk?" asked the woman. "There is some resemblance but he is darker and his eyes are grey not copper flecked."

"Possibly. I've never heard the name, but I have not been in Cresida for many long years."

"Did you know Aryar Greyrawk?"

"I did."

"Ian is his grandson. He returned to Greyrawk Mountain recently to see the ruins. He hadn't returned to his ancestral home since his mother fled with him when a rival lord killed Aryar. We run an inn near Peradon on Anavar. Ian said he felt compelled to return. It became an obsession. He spoke of it often and frankly, I was getting tired of the subject. He had been dreaming of the old castle for months."

Loric paused at her words and flicked his glance at Kerreth.

"When did he return to Greyrawk Mountain?" asked Loric.

"A few weeks ago he headed that way. I decided to follow him recently and ran into these bandits."

"Yes, they appear to be just what they are," said Hobart to Kerreth. "No sign of wealth or military experience. Just low-life's looking for easy money."

"What is your name?" asked Moria. "These men never get around to the important things."

"Jaele Larke. I am a distant cousin of Ian's. Thankfully, just distant enough." She smiled at Moria.

"I see," said Moria, nodding her understanding.

"Do you have Greyrawk blood?" asked Loric.

"No. I'm from his mother's side." She wiped down her blade and sheathed it.

"Good."

"Something wrong with your family?" asked Jaele.

"Some of my family. We are interbred with Celaeri. I am fully half Celaeri although most Greyrawk's have very little Celaeri blood. I would suspect Ian felt the call of that blood, as I have, but he would have no idea what it meant. His father died when Aryar died?"

"That's the tale. At least in the same struggle. I think Ian's father died in Belderag's dungeons."

"Interesting. Just before Ian left to go to Greyrawk Mountain did he seem more preoccupied with the subject?"

"Yes. It was all he could talk about and it got so bad I actually pushed him out the door. He's very little help around the inn anyways. Wasn't really cut out for it, but we make money and our children are well fed."

"Hmm. Well, Kerreth, if Dvorak is through bleeding for now, may we press on?" asked Loric.

"How did you know Aryar Greyrawk?" asked Jaele. "I never heard tales of Celaeri being around in recent memory and your coloring is unique even for a Greyrawk."

"Do you like it?" asked Loric, preening again. Moria slugged him. "No matter. I am older than I look. Aryar was a descendant of mine. I don't recall how many generations."

"A man's vanity," said Moria. "You have seen 30 centuries, Loric."

Loric frowned and rolled his eyes.

"I did not spend much time there when Aryar ruled Greyrawk Mountain. I am an outcast as far as the Celaeri are concerned. Too much Celaeri influence on Aryar although he knew it not."

"Are you saying the Celaeri controlled him?" asked Jaele.

"To a certain extent. You will ask what my agenda is, being half Celaeri, in returning to Cresida. I know the Celaeri better than anyone and I sense they are trying to reclaim their place in our world. The Celaeri returning would not bode well for the people of Cresida. They are fierce in war and cunning. They would drive Men under their heels again. I felt a pulling, a longing to return to Cresida, but I am wary of why. Now I fear Ian Greyrawk is involved with the Celaeri and far beyond his grasp of the situation."

"Oh poor Ian. Are you sure about this? You will rescue him? Can I come with you?"

"No," said Loric.

"Yes," said Kerreth. "She will be of help to us."

"Too dangerous," said Loric. "The Celaeri will kill her if they know she's nearby."

"Why would they do that?" asked Jaele.

"To keep you from distracting Ian for one thing. I fear for him."

"But you never say why," said Moria. "Your hints and riddles are worse than knowing the truth."

"You think so?" said Loric. "Well, let us get going. The longer we wait the more difficult it will be, especially for Ian."

"That's another one!" groaned Moria.

"What danger is Ian in?" asked Jaele. "Will they kill him?"

"Only if they have to. He should be in no danger of death, but he may be changed when you see him again." He plainly would say no more unless they returned to the journey.