Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) (28 page)

Chapter Twenty-F
ive

Michael opened his eyes
, yet nothing would come into focus.  He tried blinking his eyes only to have a nauseating wave of pain crash over him.  He would have cried out, but his jaw did not seem to work.  Michael next tried to sit up, but a firm hand pressed down on his chest.  Through the pain, he heard Branik’s voice, though he couldn’t understand the words.  The ringing in his ears seemed to render them unintelligible.

Collapsing weakly against the bed
; yes it was a bed, he could feel the blanket with his hand.  Michael was on the verge of panic.  He could not remember exactly what happened but, he knew beyond doubt, his jaw was broken and he could not talk.  He lifted a hand to his face and gingerly felt along the jaw line.  It hurt to touch and was extremely swollen. Also, there was a cloth of some sort wrapped around under his chin and over the top of his head.  Michael’s mind began to turn inward to try to escape the pain and the sense of helplessness.

Branik kept talking to Michael
, trying to get through to him. It was clear that Michael either couldn’t hear him, or refused to listen.  Seeing Michael go still, Branik feared it was the latter.  They had bound the jaw gently yet firmly to immobilize it, there had been little else they could do.  Branik was angry with himself.  He had struck out in reflex.  He had seriously injured Michael and hurt Colonel Bastise as well; though the Colonel only had the wind knocked from him and would likely have some bruising.  Branik had apologized to the Colonel, and Bastise had merely laughed the matter off.

Merric had helped them
tend to Michael and then left.  Branik was uncertain as to where he had gone, but figured he was looking for a way to help Michael.  Wizards could not heal and none of the druids among the elves had any talent for the skill either.  Branik felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Reek standing behind him.

“You must not blame yourself
. You only acted on instinct and could not have known the situation in which you found yourself.  You would have thought you were still fighting the Garolith,” Reek tried to assure him.

“I know better than to strike blindly.  It is one of our first lessons; know yourself and know your surroundings so you may strike true and efficiently,” Branik said heatedly.

“These were not normal circumstances,” Reek said hesitantly.  No one had spoken yet about Branik’s resurrection.  Reek was still shocked by the miracle his eyes told him was a reality.

“Where is Merric?”  Branik asked trying to change the subject.
  He knew there was no way he could have lived through the blow the Garolith had delivered, and he was confused as to what exactly had happened.  He reached down to place his hand on the hilt of his sword again, but it was not there.  It had not been there since he had awakened.  He remembered his swords shattering under the scythe of the Garolith, and their absence made him feel naked.

“I do not know where Merric went.  He left without a word about thirty minutes ago.  I assume he is trying to find some way to help,” Reek answered, glad Branik had changed the subject.

Reek and Branik both caught the movement out of the corner of their eyes and Reek instantly drew his swords.  Branik made the motion, and again realizing he had no swords, went into an open-handed fighting stance, putting himself between the movement and Michael.  Both relaxed as they saw Merric materialize.  Branik recognized the dark-haired dwarf standing beside Merric.  It was the young healer Michael had saved in The Slot.

Dain stumbled
, but Merric caught him.

“Breathe deeply.  The sickness will pass.  That’s it
, deep and steady,” Merric gently instructed Dain.

Dain straightened up and continued to take a few more deep breaths.  When the nausea passed
, he looked beyond the two Avari to the prone figure lying on the bed.  The two Avari stepped aside, and Dain could see the face of the wizard that had save his life.  Though the face was distorted by the swelling of an injury to the jaw, he could tell it was the same man.  Dain moved forward quickly and laid his left hand on Michael’s chest and his right on his forehead.  He closed his eyes and opened to the injury.  Dain gritted his teeth against the pain he felt coming through.  Michael’s jaw was not just broken it had been shattered.  Dain instantly started his work.

Michael’s body arched up off the bed at the pain coursing through his face.  That pain brought him out of his self
-retreat, and he started to fight against it.  Branik and Reek moved quickly in to restrain him so Dain could finish the healing.  It took Dain only a few seconds more to finish and, as he withdrew his hands, Michael’s body relaxed and his eyes fluttered open.  Dain sighed heavily in relief and wonder.  What he had just done should have tired him at least a little.  His stamina for healing had steadily increased over the last few weeks. Instead of a drain, Dain felt almost revitalized.

Dain studied the aura around Michael.  He had never seen one like it.  As Michael had lain there unconscious, his aura had been normal.  Dull
, pulsing red was the color of pain.  Now his aura had changed to a flat, dark gray, signifying intense loss; but what caught Dain’s attention most was that it was shot through with swirling blue, red and yellow.  The red was the dominate color, though the way they all swirled was almost hypnotic.  He knew the brilliant red was a rage like none he had ever seen before.  The blue represented happiness; and the yellow, Dain had only seen that color in other healers.  He had come to associate it with the healing gift.  How could a wizard have yellow in his aura?  Dain replaced his hand on Michael’s forehead.  Michael eyes blinked and focused on Dain.  As their gazes locked, Dain’s legs almost buckled with the emotions he felt.

Michael saw the young
, dark haired boy standing over him, and he instantly recalled the young dwarf from The Slot.  This was the healer, Dain.  Michael reached up and felt his jaw.  He could tell the swelling was gone and the absence of pain told him all he needed to know about what had transpired.  Michael smiled at the dwarf.  “Thank you, Healer Dain.  I don’t know if you remember me, but...”  Michael started.

“How could I forget?  You are Wizard Michael; the man who saved my life.  It is I who thank you.  I do not know what you did that day
, or today for that matter, but without your aid, many more men would have died, for I was nearly spent.  Your gift helped me to help them,” Dain said earnestly.

“You are most welcome.  All I did was give you a bit of energy to revitalize you.  You looked like you needed it more than I did,” Michael said sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

Michael’s eyes left Dain and moved up to see Branik standing over him.  He hung his head and tears dropped from his eyes.  He reached out and grasped Branik’s arm.  Standing, he hugged the big man tightly.  “I thought I had lost you.  I had lost you.  I healed your wound, but you stopped breathing and your heart ceased to beat.  I…”  Michael explained pulling back from his embrace.

“Michael, I am sorry I hurt you.  I should have known better than to strike out as I did,” Branik said sincerely.

Michael waved his hand in negation.  “I would suffer many such wounds to have you back, Avar Branik,” Michael said smiling up at him, his face still wet from his tears.

Branik understood the sentiment and actually flashed a slight smile
in return.  It was so quick that Michael was unsure if he had imagined it or not.

“Michael,” Reek said.

Both Branik and Michael turned to him, but he was looking only at Michael.

“I thank you for the life of my brother
, and I would be honored if you would allow me to call you brother as well,” Reek said bowing before Michael.

“
It is I who am honored by such a request.  Brother,” Michael said quietly placing his left hand on Reek’s shoulder.

Reek looked up and nodded once, smiling.

Dain noticed that Michael’s aura turned almost entirely blue as he saw the big Avari and its intensity hurt Dain’s eyes after Reek had spoken.  “Wizard Michael?”  Dain interjected when there seemed to be a break in the conversation.

“Yes, Dain?  And it is no longer Wizard, I am now Myrkron
; but just call me Michael,” Michael replied turning to the young dwarf.

“I am confused, Michael.  I see yellow in your aura which I thought
to be a color only healers possessed.  Now I hear you say you healed the big Avari’s wound.  How can this be?”  Dain asked.

“As I said
, I am no longer a wizard. I am a Myrkron now.  I have the ability to heal just as you do, though I dare say you are much more adept at it than I am.  It is a new ability for me,” Michael explained.

“I have never heard of a Myrkron before,”

“You are not alone in that, young healer, but further explanation will have to wait.  I must get you back to The Slot and your Axethane,” Merric interjected.

“Thank you again, Dain.  Maybe one day we can sit down and I will tell you what I can about Myrkron and you can tell me about auras,” Michael said moving forward to shake the healer’s hand.

“I’d like that, Michael,” Dain said smiling brightly.

Merric spoke the words of transport and he and Dain vanished from the room.

Michael wiped a hand across his face and looked at the two Avari.  “I need to go somewhere, and I am not sure where that somewhere is.  Are you two up to making a journey?”  Michael asked already knowing the answer he would get.

Branik and Reek both nodded their assent.

Michael closed his eyes and thought of the Oakkrin.  The only things he truly knew about them were that they were old and they were intelligent.  He hoped knowing their name and these other facts would be enough to get him to them.  He was not sure what would happen if he attempted to teleport without knowing a sufficient amount about his destination.  As he thought about the Oakkrin, an image came to mind of a large, sunlit grove.  Surrounding the grove were some of the biggest trees he had ever seen; soaring giants that were taller than any redwood tree back home.  He held the image in his mind and spoke the words of transport.

Merric materialized with Dain outside the healer’s tent.  Pace and Mardak jumped instantly to their feet upon seeing the two arrive.  One look at Dain’s face told Mardak that he was in better spirits than when he left and his color seemed better as well.  Whatever healing he had performed must have agreed with him.  Pace bowed to Merric and excused himself, running off to the command tents.

Merric eyed the big ogre before him.  He again took note of the numerous bags and pouches hanging from the ogre’s belt and the two red feathers attached to the leather headband.

“I am Headmaster Merric of Kantwell. 
Would I be right in assuming you are shaman to your tribe?”  Merric inquired.

Mardak bowed to Merric.
  “I am Mardak, shaman to these tribes and brother to Chieftain Karg,”

“I have not met many shamen.
  I would like to talk to you when time permits.  I am very interested in your abilities.”

“I have time now,” Mardak replied, gesturing for Merric to sit.

“Regrettably, I do not.  A Garolith was sent into Branna and I need to return to Kantwell, as that is without question, its destination,” Merric explained.

Mardak raised a bushy eyebrow at hearing the creature named.
  “Garolith?  Be very careful, Headmaster.  If what little I have heard about them is true, then you and your students will be in a great deal of danger.”

“What do you know about them?  Maybe your people have some lore that we do not.”

“I have heard that only the most powerful wizards can hope to stand against them, and that they are impervious to normal weaponry.  Steel has no effect on their bodies, but there is a legend that weapons fashioned from bone or ivory can hurt them.  That is all I know,” Mardak said apologetically.

“That is more than I had
.  Thank you, Shaman Mardak.  Please tell these things to Commander Salic.  It may be only a legend, but some legends are based in truth.  He will need all the information he can get if we have to face them on the battlefield.”

“I will so inform him.”

“Thank you again, Dain,” Merric said to the healer then spoke the words of transport and vanished.

Pace returned with Axethane Bran.

“Is all well at Kantwell, Dain?”  Bran asked.

“Aye.  A simple healing was all that was required
, but it was an injury that required immediate attention,” Dain assured him.

Chapter Twenty-
Six

Mortow walked out of his tent and mounted his horse.  Megan and Maklin were already seated upon their steads
, and the two Garoliths appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, spooking the horses so badly that Maklin was thrown from his.  The troll holding Mortow’s bridle was nearly pulled from his feet as he tried to keep the horse from bolting.  Mortow bellowed out a command and the horses went still, though they continued to shiver.

“Mind how you approach,” Mortow snarled giving the Garoliths a heated look.

“We apologize, Nine Key,” the Garoliths replied, bowing slightly.

Mortow thought he detected the faintest trace of laughter in their platitude
, but he chose to ignore it.

Maklin got shakily to his feet and dusted his robe off.  He took the reins from the troll, who had stepped in to keep the horse from bolting, and stroked the frightened animal’s neck in an attempt to calm it.  When he felt the horse stop shivering
, he eased into the saddle once again.  Maklin’s only consolation was that Megan looked pale from the incident.  Even through the sneer of contempt she gave him, he could tell she had been frightened by them as well.

The army was already formed up and ready to begin the day
's march.  Mortow surveyed the ranks before him and, satisfied that all was in order, gave the command to move out.  The trolls that had tended the horses would break down his tent and then catch up with them.

Mortow had been in a good mood when he woke this morning.  His plans were under way and they had made swift progress across the Steppes of Sorrow.  The incident with the Garoliths this morning had dampened his mood
, however.  It was as if they were testing him to see what he would do.  Yesterday morning, they had appeared out in the middle of the army causing a great wave of fear that had cost him the better part of an hour trying to restore order.  They acted like petulant children testing a parent to see how far they could push him before they were punished.

Perhaps another lesson was required to remind them
that he was in charge.  Mortow glanced back at the monstrous forms.  They were keeping their distance and seemed to be behaving themselves.  That they enjoyed these games Mortow had no doubts.  They caused no further trouble after their initial disruption.  It was like they fed off the chaos they caused and after having ‘breakfast’ they were sated.

Mortow turned his mind toward what he would do when the other races surrendered.  He had intended to turn Gratton into the Thelonean seat of power
, but he concluded that it was too inaccessible.  As a fortress it was second to none; as a place to rule from, it was too far removed from the lighter races.  He would need a more centralized location.  Perhaps now that the dwarves had been decimated, he would build his castle within Delven Vale.

The dwarves had retreated into the mountains at Middle Watch
.  They would have ample room there.  It would take them a long time to recover from their losses.  They were not a very prolific race.  The more he thought about it, the more Delven Vale made sense.  It could be easily accessed from both the east and the west.  It was ringed by the Anvil’s Teeth, a mountain range that had afforded the dwarves a barrier against attack; well, non-magic aided attack, anyway.  Mortow chuckled to himself.

How easy it was to bring the races to their knees.  It only reaffirmed his belief that only wizards
should rule.  Though he hated the word for what it had represented for the better part of his life, Mortow felt it was his duty to bring the races together under one ruler.  It would force races that had been at each other throats for generations to work together.  The war, though regrettable, was a necessary catalyst.  It would thin the races; had thinned the races.  The destruction that the war caused would allow for more collaboration among them as well.  Hostility, at first, was to be expected; but then they would find they needed each other.

The dwarves would be in demand for their metal and stone working as well as their inherent healing abilities.  The trolls would be needed for their stone working skills as well as their strength in helping to rebuild.  The ogres would become the peace keepers.  Their size would help them enforce the order that Mortow would demand.  The humans would be needed for their farming skills to provide food.

The elves were problematic.  They tended to be arrogant and aloof, but then there were not many left now except the Forrest Guard, and they would be suitably culled after the war.  The elven druids would be the real assets.  They would be able to coax the land to grow and regenerate after the ravages of war.

With the hierarchy of Kantwell eliminated, the younger magi would train under Mortow and his wizards.  They would come to realize that what he had done was free them from the strictures placed
upon them by the antiquated beliefs of magi long dead.  The one force he could not figure a place for was the Avari.  They were warriors that rarely fought.  They, like the elves, chose to live apart from the rest of the world.  Mortow had no doubt that he could bring them to bare if he could eliminate Micah.  Here, he would have to be especially careful.  One did not live as long as Micah had without learning how to survive; and from what Mortow had gathered about the Avari Lord, he had lived a very long time indeed.  He found records of Micah’s name going back almost two thousand years.

The Avari Lord was full of surprises, as one of his younger magi had found out.  Underestimating Micah had cost him his life.  It was a shame Meran had died.  He had been the first and only magi that had come to Mortow after his split with Kantwell.

“Master,” Maklin called from behind.

Mortow turned in his saddle and looked at him questioningly.
  “What is it?” Mortow asked in irritation.  He hated having his thoughts interrupted.

Maklin blanched slightly at the look on Mortow’s face and silently pointed off to the left.

Mortow could see a horse approaching at a walk.  From this distance, all he could see was a robed rider on a horse.  None of the scouts had stopped the rider so he assumed it was Mael or Mieka.  He had not seen Mieka in a few days.  He was unsure as to where she had gone after his ill-fated meeting with Michael; but one thing he was sure of, she had not returned to Kantwell.  Michael would have informed Merric of her betrayal and, though pained by that betrayal, Merric would have had no choice but to guard Kantwell against her return.  Mieka had been Mortow's eyes and ears within the wizard’s keep for these past six years.  Her actions had landed her firmly in his grasp now.  Mortow was never quite sure if Mieka was completely on his side until she delivered Michael to Gratton.  Now, even if she had doubts about her loyalty, those in Kantwell would not.

As the rider
drew closer, he could tell it was Mieka.  The rider was much too tall to be Mael and, besides, Mael had his duties to attend in Gratton.  With Mael and the trolls he had left to guard Micah’s nephew, he was assured that no one would be able to slip in and rescue the man.  Holding Micah’s nephew was a stop-gap against the Avari Lord, but it would not last forever.  Perhaps the Garolith’s would be able to eliminate Micah for him.  They were a formidable force against both magic and steel.  The Avari Lord had displayed the ability to use magic, though it appeared to be limited; and his swords, no matter how accomplished he was with them, would be useless against them.

Mortow slowed his horse and motioned Maklin and Megan pas
t him.  When the Garoliths were even with him he stopped.  They both stopped as well.

“I have a little job for the two of you.  Do you
know of the Avari Lord, Micah?”

They both stared at him with their glowing eyes.
  “We have never heard of this man,” one replied in its hissing voice.

That one comment gave Mortow some idea of just how long they had been imprisoned.  There was hardly a soul on Thelona that had not heard of the Avari and their legendary lord.

“He is a very skilled warrior that can command some magic.  And when I say skilled, I mean there is no one who is better with a sword.  He has been around for almost two thousand years, that I know of.  I want the two of you to hunt him down and kill him.  If you can,” Mortow threw the last comment in as a jab for all the trouble they had been causing with his army.

Both Garoliths laughed in that sibilant hissing way they had.

“One swordsman is hardly worth our time, Nine Key,” the one who had spoken before informed him.

“This is not a request
. It is an order,” Mortow snapped, his voice low and rumbling with menace.

The two Garoliths
looked at the army still moving away from them and Mortow, and then they looked at him.  Mortow could tell they were weighing their chances at being able to kill him before his army could return to aid him, and he flashed a wicked grin at the two behemoths.

“My army and my wizards are not close enough to aid me
, but then, I really do not require their aid.  Perhaps the lesson down in the cave was not sufficient.  Perhaps I need to repeat it on one of you before it will sink into those thick skulls,” Mortow said in an even tone beginning to raise his right hand.

Both Garoliths reared back on their tails to put more distance between them
selves and Mortow.  Raised up as they were, they were over three times Mortow’s height on horseback.  Bowing to him, they sunk down so that they were eye level with him, but they maintained their distance.

“As you command, Nine Key.  How will we know this, Avari Lord?”

Mortow lowered his hand and regarded his fingernails.  He gave them a description of Micah and told them to seek him in Branna.  Mortow waved his hand dismissively at the two giants and turned to a waiting Mieka.

Mieka had stopped a small distance from Mortow and the pair of Garoliths.  It was as much out of respect for Mortow as it was out of fear of the monsters.  When she saw Mortow dismiss the pair and turn to her she bowed slightly and approached him.  The Garoliths, having been dismissed, shot off at frightening speed to the southwest.  Mieka could not comprehend how something so big could move so swiftly.  As the Garoliths left, Mortow urged his horse forward to catch up with the army.  Mieka guided her horse in alongside him and matched his pace.  When they caught up with Maklin and Megan, Mortow slowed his pa
ce once again.

Mieka took note of the expressions
on both Maklin and Megan’s faces.  Maklin regarded her with aloof indifference and as always. Megan displayed a jealousy that bordered on anger; nothing new there.  She knew Megan thought of her as an obstacle in her path to Mortow’s side and she didn’t particularly care.  Turning to them, Mieka nodded to Maklin and flashed a charming smile at Megan.  She had the satisfaction of seeing Megan’s jaw tighten ever so slightly.

Mortow rode in silence for a few minutes then spoke.
  “Where have you been?”

“I know how you get when things don’t go as planned so I went to a place where I could think
.  I had no doubt that if you needed me, you would have found me,” Mieka explained.

“And what was this contemplation about?”

“Michael.”

“Yes, I would imagine it was.  I saw how he looked at you when he realized what you had done.  You did a fine job of concealing your feelings at that time
, but I wondered just how much it affected you as well.  What were your conclusions?”

“I found that it hurt to see that look in his eyes.  I had not realized it until that moment
, but I now know that he got to me more than I had counted on,” Mieka replied, staring at the reins in her hands, knowing better than to lie to Mortow.

“And now you feel I will be angry with you because of your feelings for Michael,” Mortow stated matter
-of-factly.

Mieka looked up to see Mortow smiling faintly
, and it took her by surprise.  She had not seen that particular smile in a very long time.

“Yes,” She replied looking at Mortow quizzically.

“Would it surprise you to know that I am actually happy for you?”  Mortow asked, glancing at Mieka out of the corner of his eye.  Her shocked expression told him that it did, and he chuckled.

Mieka cocked her head at Mortow.  She had expected anger or indifference
, but never this kind of reaction.  “You are happy for me?”

“Yes I am.  You are long overdue to find someone.”  Mortow lowered his voice so only Mieka could hear him, “I know the feeling
s you have harbored for me.”  At this statement, Mortow saw Mieka’s face flush.  “The truth of the matter is that I have always seen you as a sister and an apprentice, nothing more.  We have both been so caught up in our studies and plans that I feared you would never open your eyes and realize that I never felt that way about you.  When all of this war business is over, you should tell Michael how you feel about him.”

“I will be lucky if he does not try to kill me on sight after what I did.
He will never listen to me now.  Besides, how could I be with a man who does not believe in what we are doing?” Mieka said dejectedly.

“He will listen, trust me
.  And when the war is over and he sees how things are going to be, he will realize that what we do, we do for the good of everyone.  He is a smart man. He will come to understand this in time,” Mortow said still smiling slightly.