Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (51 page)

“Well,” Flare stumbled over the word, a little thrown off by the sudden change in the old man. “I didn't have a figure in mind, but I'm sure we could come to an arrangement.” The old trapper's eyes narrowed in a most alarming way.

“So, where are you going?” He watched Flare without blinking. “The only place that I can think of, where I could be of service, is the
Black forest
.”

Flare nodded, “Yes. Sort of.”

Morley looked to his right at the dwarf, and then he turned back to Flare. “What do you mean sort of?”

“Well, actually we are headed to Golteranth, and we were hoping to go through the forest.”

“You're joking! No one and I mean no one goes there.” He paused, looking at the dwarf again, “Arnok, what is this about?”

Arnok smiled, “I know what you're thinking, and I believe that these are good people. I believe that Flare is not the dreaded one prophesied about by Kelcer.”

“Morley,” Flare interjected quickly, “We're guardians. We were ordered to Golteranth to check the area out.” The trapper looked less than convinced, but Flare hurried on. “We really need your help, and we will pay you for it.”

“Doesn't matter if you will or not,” Morley said quietly. “We can't get there through the
Black forest
. There are too many goblins there, like I said. And there's more of them the farther you go into the forest.”

“Well,” Flare said, thinking quickly, “Is there another way that we can get to Golteranth?”

Morley shook his head, “Not that I know of.”

“Wait. Did you say there are more of the goblins than normal?” Arnok asked.

Morley shrugged, “Yes, the goblins live in the mountains, so understandably there are more of them the farther in you go, but this year they are scattered all throughout the forest.”

“But,” Arnok pushed, “Are there more of them away from the mountains?”

The trapper studied the dwarf for several moments, “What are you suggesting?”

The dwarf, with a gleam in his eye, turned towards Flare. “Didn't you say that Prince Zalustus attacked Mul-dune with goblins?”

Flare nodded, “Amongst other things, but so what?”

Arnok turned back towards the old trapper, “Morley. Could the goblins be guarding the entrance to Golteranth?”

“Guarding?” He repeated the word, making it sound like a word he had never heard before. “I don't know. Why would they be guarding the border?”

“I don't know why, but do you think they could be?” Arnok asked, sounding a little impatient.

“Well, don't get all grumpy.” Morley grumbled right back at the dwarf, “I guess they could be, but how in the name of the abyss would I know?”

Guarding the border. That was a thought that hadn't occurred to him. Could they really be watching for him? It did sort of all fit together. Someone had set a bounty on the guardians, and now a goblin army seemed to be guarding the border to a wasteland that no one ever went to. Was Zalustus that far ahead of them?

The door opened, and Philip entered. He quickly pulled his cloak off, shaking the water off. “Gods, it's really coming down out there.” He glanced around at the sullen faces, “What's the matter with you guys?” He looked passed them, “It looks like Atock got a fire going.”

Not only had Atock got a fire going and was warming some salted meat and bread. It was smelling good, and Flare had to fight to keep his concentration. “It appears that goblins are guarding the eastern side of the forest. Which means that we can't get to Golteranth.”

“Oh come on. There has to be another way.” Philip replied, looking from one face to the next.

Morley shrugged, “Not that I know of.” He chuckled, “Unless, you're willing to go through the pass of Dasharra.”

Dasharra? Flare knew it, of course, but he had never thought of going through there. “Isn't there a dragon there?”

Morley nodded, “Been imprisoned there for thousands of years.”

Flare nodded, he had heard the story before. Several thousand years ago, give or take a few hundred years, a member of the Dragon Order had defeated and magically imprisoned the dragon in the pass. “How long does a dragon live?” He asked.

Arnok shrugged, “Don't know.” A look of incredulity came over the dwarf's face. “You're not actually thinking of going through the pass, are you?”

Flare shrugged, “From what you've said, that's the only possibility.”

“It's death!” Morley exclaimed, “Unless you think that you can beat a dragon.”

“Oh, come on.” Philip replied, “Surely the dragon is dead by now. And I bet the goblins won't be guarding the pass.” He smiled, “It's perfect.”

“It's crazy.” Arnok scoffed. “I didn't think that you guys were stupid, but maybe you are.”

“I'll go.” Morley said quietly, and firmly. Everyone looked at him. He swallowed and fidgeted under their gaze. “The goblins have taken everything that I own, and if Lord Vinekh thinks that this is important, then I will go.”

“I say the pass, too.” Philip said.

“Me too.” Atock said carrying two plates piled high with food to the small group of men.

“All right then,” Flare agreed. “I'm not sure if this is a good idea, but we can at least scout out the pass, and then make a decision.”

“Okay. I'll go too.” Arnok said sighing. Then noting the surprise on the faces of the guardians, he added, “I still think it's crazy. But if you guys are set on it, then I'm in.”

Flare smiled. This might just work out after all, and he was pleased that the dwarf would be accompanying them. He had sort of thought that the dwarf would head back to Helum, but all the same, he was glad for the company. Well, plus they might need a hand keeping Morley straight.

“There's just one small thing to be decided.” Morley added, grinning at Flare.

“Oh. What's that?” Flare was clueless as to what the trapper was talking about.

“My fee.” The words made Flare groan.

Chapter 22

The bumping of the cart jarred Derek to consciousness. The road, if it could be called a road, bounced like there were boulders strung across it. A moan escaped his lips.

“Oh, we're awake, are we?”

The voice was strangely familiar, but Derek's head still seemed a little foggy. He opened his eyes, and it felt like the light was a knife going through his skull. Wishing that it really had been a knife, at least the pain would be over now, he twisted his body to look up.

He was in a small wagon. A dark brown tarp was pulled tight over rounded support bars to give the wagon a quasi roof. The tarp kept most of the light out, but Derek was lying with his head near the rear of the wagon, and the sun had found a breach through which it was pouring through. A bench ran along the right side of the wagon, and sitting on the bench, was Garrick.

Smiling, Garrick leaned over and nudged Derek on the knee. “Didn't see that coming, did you?”

Derek tried to sit up, but for the first time realized that his arms and legs were shackled. Not only were his ankles shackled together, but the chains were attached to a metal loop in the floor of the wagon. He shook his head, still trying to clear the fog. “What's going on?” He managed to mumble.

Garrick's smile got bigger. “You walked right into my trap.”

“Trap?” Derek repeated groggily, “What trap?” The words had barely left his lips, when the ambush on the road flooded back into his mind.

“Oh, I see that you've remembered.” He nudged Derek's knee again. “I actually had an ambush planned closer to Baron Ludon's estates, but, well, let's just say that other's had different ideas.”

Derek glanced around quickly, to make sure that the other guardians were not here. “Where are my friends?” Surprisingly, his voice was clear. Remembering the ambush had apparently shocked his grogginess away, but his head still hurt, throbbed was more like it. His arm hurt too, but at least it wasn't broken.

“They are safe.” Garrick shrugged, “At least for now. Here, have some water.” He pushed a small wooden cup into Derek's hands.

Derek accepted the water and turned the cup up, trying to be careful and not spill any. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. “Where are you taking us, and,” he paused, remembering the three fighters from Mul-Dune, “And who are you working for?”

Garrick leaned closer, as he was on the bench, and Derek was on the floor, it gave the impression that Garrick was towering over him. “I bet you want to know who's got you, but that's not something that I can tell you.” He considered for a moment, “I can't even tell you where you're going, but I can tell you what's going to happen to you.”

His statements were rather matter of fact, but they caused a chill to run down Derek's spine. “What's going to happen to us?” He croaked.

“These people want to ask you a few questions.”

“Questions?” Derek repeated blankly.

Garrick's smile grew rather nasty looking, “Yes, and they have the most interesting ways of getting you to answer them.”

“Torture.” Derek's stomach was feeling a little queasy. True, torture did not appeal to him, but his thoughts were all for his fellow guardians. He had led them into a trap! How could he have been so stupid?

“Torture.” Garrick said nodding, “And let me...”

Garrick's words were cut off by the rear flap of the tarp suddenly being pulled back and a blinding amount of sunlight pouring through. “Garrick! What are you doing in here?” The voice was a commanding one, and it lacked warmth.

“Uh, nothing, sir. I heard him moaning, and I thought that I would check on him.” Garrick had quite quickly lost the gloating edge to his voice. He now sounded scared, or perhaps just wary.

Twisting around to better see the speaker, the cuffs at Derek's wrists and ankles dug in, pinching the skin. The pain didn't even register though, as he recognized the man standing at the end of the wagon. It was the blond fighter, one of the three that he had recognized from Mul-Dune.

“Fine.” He barked, although he didn't say so, it seemed like he didn't believe Garrick. “You've checked on him. Now, get out of there.”

Garrick wasted no time, but scrambled to obey. He stood up and walked hunched over to the end of the wagon, where he dropped to the ground beside the other man.

“Wait!” Derek called out, as the fighter started to close the tarp flap, Garrick was already out of sight.

Hesitating, the fighter pulled the tarp open slightly and leaned his head in. “What?”

Derek gulped, he had so many questions but he got the feeling that he would be lucky to get one or two answered. “My friends. Are they okay?”

“A commander's first concern should be for his friends and those under his command. I am impressed.”

Not caring one whit whether or not the man was impressed, Derek pushed for an answer. “Are they okay? Please tell me.”

“They are, for now. Although, you will not be so happy about it when we reach our destination.” The man seemed grim, determined, but grim. He gave the appearance of one doing as he must, even though it was distasteful.

“So it's true, then? What Garrick said.” Nausea threatened to wash over him as he thought of Kara, Trestus, and even Enstorion being tortured. They had followed him, and he had led them right into a trap. How could he have been so stupid?

Cocking his head to one side, the man asked, “What exactly did he say?”

“He also said that my friends were safe, and that we were being taking to a place where someone could ask us questions. He implied that we would not like the way that the questions would be asked.”

“He said too much,” the man said clinching his jaw, “I will speak to him.”

“But what he said is true?” Derek held little hope that it wasn't.

The man studied him for a moment, and then slowly nodded his head. “Yes. Unfortunately, it is.”

“What's your name?” Derek asked.

“Keenan,” he paused for a moment, “Prince Keenan.”

Prince? How could that be? And prince of what country? He ignored these and the other hundred or so questions that popped into his head, instead he went straight to the point. “Listen, you know what's going to happen to us. Please, at least let the woman go. Torturing her would serve no purpose.”

Several moments of silence passed, and Derek held his breath. This Keenan appeared to find this whole torture business unpleasant. Perhaps he could be convinced to let Kara go.

Keenan sighed, “I wish that I could help you. For the woman's sake if for no other reason.” He shook his head regretfully, “But I can't.” Without warning, he let the tarp fall back in place, and disappeared from sight.

Derek laid his head back on the rough wagon floor. 'Adel have mercy.' It took a while, but he finally slipped back into an uneasy sleep.

Derek awoke later that day to find Garrick and a soldier looking down over him. He noticed two things right away. The first thing was the look of absolute loathing on Garrick's face, and the second thing was that the wagon had stopped moving.

Worry crept over Derek. Had he gotten Garrick into trouble? Was Garrick planning on getting his revenge?