Son of the Dragon (The Netherworld Gate Book 3) (13 page)

“But we do still exist,” Loerik said softly. “It was not a good plan, but it did work. And now, you are here, ready to finish what I wanted Lemork to do.” Loerik looked up to Talon with a smile. “If you slay Basei, then we can avoid the horsemen.”

“How do you know
he
is the right one to complete this when you say even Lemork went mad on this quest?”

Loerik smiled softly. “When the spell was taken to Jahre, he sent a message back to me before it was executed.” The old drow dug into his pocket and brought out a small, tattered and yellow piece of parchment. He handed the note to Talon.

Talon opened it to find Taish runes on the page. He shrugged and handed it to the queen.

She read it aloud. “Loerik, my friend, do not fear. I have seen a vision. There is another way to defeat Basei. When the time is right, I will send my grandson to rescue your people.”

Queen Amadriel dropped the note on the table and looked at Talon closely.

“I am his grandson, if that is what you are wondering,” Talon said quickly.

Loerik cut in. “I know things don’t always happen exactly as they are portrayed in vision, but answer me one question. Do you happen to carry the fang of a gorlung?”

Talon pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Loerik smiled wider. “The day I received that note, I had a vision of my own. I have only ever had one, but it was vivid and I still remember it. I saw a hooded man from behind. He carried Drekk’hul in his hand. He destroyed the Netherworld Gate, freeing my people. Then, he turned and led an army to Basei’s temple. In my vision, the man wore a bracelet on his left wrist. Dangling from that bracelet was the black fang of a gorlung.”

“He has no bracelet,” the queen cut in quickly. “Besides, it is foolish to think he could kill a gorlung. In five hundred years, only two gorlung beasts have been killed by our warriors, and each time it was at great cost.”

Talon pulled the fang from his pocket. “I don’t wear a bracelet, but I have the fang.” He set the tooth on the table. No sooner had he done so than the gorlung phantom reappeared.

All three of them startled, the queen and Loerik because it scared them, and Talon because he thought the beast dead. The great phantom beast bowed its head and moved to stand beside Talon.

“You command the beast?” Queen Amadriel asked, quietly moving to position herself behind the table opposite where Talon and his gorlung were standing.

Talon nodded. “I slew it in combat in the forest on Svatal Island. Now, using its tooth and a spell that Jahre gave me, I can summon it to aid me.”

“This is the man,” Loerik said, beating the table suddenly with his wrinkled hand. “This is the man who can slay Basei.” Loerik turned to the queen excitedly. “You must understand, the Netherworld is attached to Terramyr. If I were to explain it simply, it is like the underside of the world, connected metaphysically, but in a very real sense. If the horsemen destroy Terramyr, then the Netherworld will die with it.”

“Then it seems I must allow you to complete your mission,” the queen said softly.

“What of the warriors?” Talon asked. “Are there any that would go with me?”

“This isn’t the same as reclaiming a homeland,” Queen Amadriel said.

“But they are claiming so much more,” Loerik put in. “Just ask for volunteers. There will be warriors enough who will relish this adventure. There have been tales enough of our old home on Terramyr shared at family hearths these five hundred years, that I know many a young warrior who would be eager of the chance to explore another plane.”

The queen nodded slowly and sighed. She looked at the great phantom beast and then back to Talon. Very well. I will make your purpose known. Any who wish to fight alongside you will be allowed to go. I have only one condition.”

“What is that?”

“Any warrior who goes with you, thereby purchases the right for his family to live in the astral plane should you succeed.”

Talon nodded. “I will honor that. The warriors will go with me. The families will stay here, where they are protected. Once I am victorious, I will come back for the others.”

“Then we have a bargain, assassin.”

CHAPTER 12

Loerik waited only moments after the queen and Talon left the room before gathering his cane and a thick book and shuffling out from the tower and down to the streets below. He had been preparing for this day for the last five centuries. Now it was time to make sure those who had long ago pledged loyalty to him would still answer the call. He knew the queen would send her own messengers, but Loerik was ever one to do things himself, ensuring the right personal touch.

His first stop took him three blocks to the west, to a large manor house that spanned seventy feet in width, and was three stories tall. This was Clan Lerian’s manor, home of the second largest clan in the city, and some of the best fighters ever born.

Loerik didn’t bother ringing the brass bell outside the front door. He pushed it open and stepped inside, announcing himself with a loud, “Hello to Clan Lerian!”

A slim elf of only sixty years stepped into the entrance from a small doorway on the left. He wore what passed for fine clothing in the Netherworld, polished leather boots, leather trousers, and a leather vest with beads of glass sewn into the front. His silver hair was braided from the top of his head, creating a stiff ponytail that arced sharply over the back of his head.

“Master Loerik, to what does House Lerian owe the pleasure?”

Loerik bowed his head and leaned heavily on his cane as he pointed with his book toward a pair of double doors twenty feet across the entrance. “Go and fetch Master Leflin,” Loerik said. “Tell him it is most urgent that I speak with him now.”

Loerik didn’t wait for the servant’s response, but he didn’t need to. He was one of three Sierri’Tai that remained from the first generation, for such were the drow that had experienced Terramyr called by all the others who had been born in the Netherworld after their banishment. The distinction of being a first generation drow earned Loerik much respect. His station as the queen’s advisor only cemented his authority throughout the city.

The old elf ambled toward the double doors and pointed his cane at them when he neared, pushing them open with a gentle spell so he wouldn’t need to slow his pace and open them by hand. He moved into the parlor and made his way for a soft chair made of black leather. Loerik turned around, shuffling his feet as he spun in place, shifting his weight from side to side and then gently dropping down into the plush cushion.

If one were to ask why he visited Clan Lerian so often, Loerik was as apt to say that he was fond of this very chair as much as any of the Lerian clansmen. It was a rarity in the Netherworld to have such an exquisite piece of luxury. Even Queen Amadriel didn’t have a chair so fine as this one. Still, the chair was not the reason he called upon the clan today.

Leflin entered the parlor from the door on the opposite side of the room. He cast a casual glance at the several swords hanging along the wall, as he always did when he was in the parlor, and then he made his way for the plain, black wooden chair beside Loerik.

Leflin was a tall drow. Slender in face and body, but with sharp features and a high brow that gave him an austere presentation. The scowl he often wore across his face bolstered the perception that he was a traditional prude, but nothing could have been further from the truth. In the years that Loerik had known Leflin, the clan leader had taken more than seven wives, three still living in the manor at the present time. Leflin was also prone to holding gambling parties and spent a great amount of time and effort searching for any substance in the Netherworld that could replace tobacco. Not that he had ever personally had the chance to use tobacco, but he found the idea alluring after he had heard about it from his father who had been a first generation drow.

However, despite these less desirable traits, Leflin was also one of the most accomplished commanders in the city. Leflin had led countless campaigns defending the city from the vile creatures that inhabited the surrounding areas, and often with astoundingly successful results. He had cleared the southern warrens of crag wolves, repelled an army of rock trolls, and also successfully found and hunted four demons, and even a gorlung. Beyond these credentials, his clan was absolutely loyal, and was not fraught with the power plays that plagued some of the other houses.

“What can I do for you?” Leflin said, getting straight to business.

Loerik lifted the book and handed it to Leflin. “I believe the time has come to form your warriors.”

Leflin nodded and took the book from Loerik. “I heard about the human,” he said flatly. “He opened the Netherworld Gate and was ushered in to speak with the queen. How did she receive him?” Leflin arched a brow.

“As well as I could have hoped for,” Loerik replied. “In any event, she is going to allow volunteers to go with him.”

“Back to Terramyr?” Leflin asked.

Loerik nodded. “He is the one I spoke to you about. He is set on a path to slay Basei.”

Leflin set the book in his lap and leaned back on the chair. “Can he succeed?”

Loerik shrugged. “He would have a much better chance if you were still willing to go.”

Leflin nodded. “I have a few warriors who would do well in such a fight. I may not be the most reputable chief in the city, but my word is my bond. I pledged House Lerian to this cause when you first told me about it. I say no different now.”

Loerik smiled. “Open the book,” he said. “This contains knowledge of Terramyr that I have been able to compile in my time here. I have included histories, but they will be somewhat out of date now. There is also an extensive list of plants, animals, weather, and magic. There is more, but you can search it for yourself. Take it with you, and use it to help orient yourself to Terramyr. She is a beautiful plane, but she is vastly different from the Netherworld.”

Leflin opened the cover and a loose piece of parchment slid out. He caught it with his hand and looked at it. “What is this?”

Loerik lifted his cane and pointed it at the paper. “That is a list of Sierri’Tai for you. I need you to go to Clan Rooria and Clan Visigor. They too have pledged to the same cause. I must know that Talon has allies he can trust, that will support him no matter what he does.”

“So that is his name?” Leflin looked at the list and saw more names. “These names at the bottom are not listed with their clans.”

Loerik nodded. “They are without clans.”

Leflin balked and nearly dropped the paper. “You want me to take houseless Sierri’Tai into battle? They are not trained the same as clansmen. They fight alone, and use different techniques. More than that, they are unruly and—”

Loerik cut the clan leader off with a wave of his cane. “These are good warriors. They are also ambitious enough that the thought of assaulting a demi-god’s temple will not scare them. They have all the reasons in the world to prove themselves, and if they do well they will be greatly rewarded. Each name on that list must go with you. I expect you to follow my instructions.”

Leflin nodded and put the list into his pocket. “I can round them up as soon as we are finished here,” he said.

“Oh, but we are finished,” Loerik said decisively. “I am going to take a nap in this wonderful chair of yours. You, on the other hand, have work to do. You should go.”

Leflin laughed silently to himself as Loerik sank deeper into the chair and closed his eyes. The clan leader stood and made for the door, but turned back just before exiting the room. “What of Klegin and Ferrick?”

Loerik grunted before he answered. “I imagine they will take their houses along as well,” he said. “They are, after all, first generation Sierri’Tai, and they have ever been eager to return to Terramyr.”

*****

Talon spent the remainder of the day in a small room of queen Amadriel’s castle. The furniture was sparse. A bed with a frame made of the same sturdy, black wood as Loerik’s desk, with a mattress stuffed with leaves and dried moss. The rest of the room was bare, cold stone. A single window overlooked a street below, and gave Talon a vantage point from which he could see the tops of buildings, but there was never much activity down below the few times he had looked out the window.

Before coming to this chamber, the queen had summoned a few messengers to send Talon’s invitation out to the larger clans in the city. The queen had promised to update Talon as she received responses, but for the first few hours, no news came.

Queen Amadriel visited Talon twice before the evening meal was served. The first time was to announce that all houses had been alerted to Talon’s invitation. The second time she announced that Houses Lerian, Rooria, and Visigor had pledged their services to Talon. The queen returned once more afterward to inform him that Clan Dluvian and Clan Onjhi had pledged their services as well, and then once more afterward to wish him a good night.

He hardly slept.

His mind would not give him peace. His thoughts centered on the Sierri’Tai. How many of them would come with him? Would there be enough to slay Basei? Could he trust them? He had not given the idea much thought that they might choose anything else but to serve him. Even the old drow in the black dragon’s cave had said that the Sierri’Tai would be eager and willing servants to whomever released them. In truth, Talon hadn’t really considered what kind of state he might find the Sierri’Tai in. He had always imagined that he would open the gate to find a willing army of battle hardened warriors ready and willing to serve him, as if he was a king liberating them from a terrible prison. It hadn’t really occurred to him that the drow might have built an entire civilization in the five hundred years since their banishment.

More than a few times, his mind came back to the image of the dead priestess in the cave. Every time it did, he could feel the same guilt and agony he had as a child when his mother had been murdered. In breaking his rule, he hadn’t just become like Basei. He had, in some way he couldn’t explain, become responsible for his mother’s murder. To him it felt as if he had plunged his sword into his mother, and not the priestess.

He tried not to dwell upon these thoughts, pushing against them by recalling the ships he was supposed to build and trying to figure out how long that would take, and how many drow would need to be helping in order to make it work.

Before he knew it, a knock came at the door and morning had come. He had maybe managed to sleep a total of twenty minutes or so. Certainly nothing that would qualify as a restful night.

The door opened. “I have a couple of visitors for you,” Queen Amadriel announced as she stepped into the room.

Talon rose from the bed just in time to see two white-haired drow. One was the warrior he had met at the city gate who spoke with the thick accent. The other, Talon had not seen before.

“These are two of my finest warriors,” the queen said. “They are the only two soldiers remaining from the original group. They have decided to go with you, and take their clans as well.”

“Which clans are yours?” Talon asked.

The drow Talon didn’t know stepped forward. “We each have large families. I am the head of the Dluvian clan. I have twenty warriors under my command. They will all be joining with me.”

The other warrior stepped forward and bowed his head. “I have another twelve besides myself. Clan Onjhi is at your service.”

Talon nodded appreciatively. He could tell by the fact that the queen had taken the time to introduce them separately that this was an important matter to them. “I will be honored to have you with me. What we are going to do is not an easy thing, but it will be worth it in the end, I assure you.”

The two clan leaders smiled slyly.

“There are another sixty warriors waiting in the streets below,” the queen said. “Altogether that makes for ninety-two, plus these two. There are five houses going with you, as well as a score of houseless Sierri’Tai. Also, you should know that each of the clan leaders speaks Common Tongue. Loerik took great pains to make sure that the language would survive, if only among the larger houses of our people.”

Talon nodded. “That should be plenty. We need to make haste for the gate. We have much work to do.”

The queen held up her hand. “Before you go, I must ask for the relics.”

Talon looked at her quizzically. “The artifacts that open the Netherworld Gate?”

Queen Amadriel nodded. “You see, while I am authorizing the departure of these volunteers, I do not want other adventurous Sierri’Tai wandering back into Terramyr on their own. Even your presence here and your exodus with a host of warriors, could call great attention to us. I do not intend to see an army of Svetli’Tai marching through the gate to finish a job they started five hundred years ago. Those of us who choose to stay, do so because we have a home and a new life here. It is a hard life, but this is now our home. All but three of the Sierri’Tai in this city have been born here, and know nothing else.”

“So you would seal the gate after I leave,” Talon guessed.

The queen nodded. “If you should succeed, you will have the powers of a demi-god. With that will come the ability to travel across all planes under Volganor’s dominion. It should be no trouble for you to return and move the families of the volunteers.”

Talon nodded. “Agreed,” he said.

Within the hour, Talon was leading his new army through the gate. Ferrick, the drow warrior he had met at the city gate, was walking on Talon’s right side. Klegin, the leader of the Dluvian clan walked on Talon’s left. The group took their time winding their way through the cave and picking their steps so as not to trigger any of the traps. Talon was careful to point each pressure plate out to them, though it seemed each warrior was as capable of recognizing and avoiding the traps as he was.