Sons of Evil: Book 1 Book of Dread (25 page)

“I can assure you that you
have nothing to fear from us,” Barlow said.

“Thought not,” Durlag replied.
With a sigh he looked at Darius. “But you do have a bit of business here. He
was your friend and more, if I’m not mistaken.”

“He was my brother,” Darius
answered with a nod.

“That’s a hard thing. I’ve
lost a brother to those giants, years ago, as have many here. That won’t lessen
your pain, I know, but I do understand what you’re going through. What was his
name?”

“Luke Stoneman,” Darius said,
the words almost sticking in his throat.

“ ‘Luke Stoneman,’ ” Durlag
repeated. “A fine name. Do you and your kin work rock for a living?”

“Perhaps distant ancestors. We’re
farmers.”

“No shame in that. Just
thought you might have something in common with my kind,” Durlag said
wistfully.

“Afraid not,” Darius said. He
was able to add a soft smile.

Durlag grew more serious. “Regardless,
we can lay your brother to rest here, among our honored dead for as little or
long as you like.”

“Thank you,” Darius said. “You
offer a great honor, to him and to our family.”

Durlag nodded once, a simple
bow, then said, “All will be ready tomorrow. Take your rest tonight, under the
shelter of our roof. You’ll not be bothered by giants or anything else this
night.”

“We are very grateful for your
hospitality, King Durlag,” Adrianna said, “but one thing troubles me. As you
are now aware, we are looking to go north. Unfortunately, these mighty
mountains above us, even without the giants that call them home, are barring
our way. We were going east, but once we reach the sea…we believe even there
the way north may not be easy.”

Durlag made a show of deep
concentration while Adrianna spoke, then tugged on his beard as if stumped by
their quandary. “You are correct to worry about the passage around the
mountains. The sea coast is all cliffs and rocks and is quite treacherous. And
the passes over the mountains, of which there are two that you might attempt,
are well-guarded.” He shook his head slowly, but then a grin spread across his
face. “Of course, over and around are but two options, and the poorest if you
ask me.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Under, lass! Under the
mountains. A few hours passage at most.”

“You’ve a path clear through,”
Silas said with unconcealed awe. “That must be a long tunnel.”

“Tunnels,” Durlag corrected. “And
they’ve been here for as long as our history records. You’d be surprised where
some of our tunnels might lead.” He added a wink to this last comment, and if
they thought him ill-disposed toward the human race, they would have considered
it a slightly-veiled threat.

When they
had said their farewells for the evening, Darius took the initiative to thank
the others for their concern, but let them know he preferred to be alone. He
thought he meant it—he did to a point—but after several hours stranded with his
own thoughts he sought out Silas.

The cleric opened the door to
his room, smiled, and invited Darius in. “I’m afraid my hospitality can go only
so far as to offer you a seat and an ear. If your room is like mine, you
already know the dwarves’ living quarters tend to be a bit…uncluttered.”

“A seat and an ear is all I
need,” Darius said.

Once they were settled, Silas
simply waited patiently. The silence stretched out for several minutes.

Darius laughed at himself, and
he was soon wearing an embarrassed smile. “Not sure where to begin.”

“It’ll come to you.”

Darius nodded his agreement,
whether he thought so or not. “Did you ever lose anyone close?”

“Several people, actually. Some
very dear friends, and my parents, long ago. I know the pain of loss, but I
can’t say I know what losing a sibling is like.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“My mother was frail for years
before she passed, so it was not unexpected. My father…we were never close. He
didn’t appreciate the path I chose for my life, wanted me to work the soil like
he did. Now some of my friends…that was harder.”

“And?”

“And I dealt with each loss in
my own way. My faith gives me a certain perspective, which has helped me in
good times and bad.”

“So that’s the answer? God can
get me through this?”

“Faith is something personal,
Darius. It helped me. Whether you feel turning to God right now is your best
option is solely up to you.”

Darius pondered things for a
moment. “I don’t know that I’ve come to grips with God or His role in this
world or my life. Guess death makes you think about such things. Anyway, I
appreciate you not taking the opportunity to preach. Didn’t think you would,
but…well, no offense.”

“None taken. Comes with the
robe, people thinking I’m trying to score points with the Big Guy by converting
them.”

“I…” Darius rubbed his face
and sighed. “Before all this happened with the book, I still had dreams for the
future. Some day the war would end, and I’d get some land of my own and settle
down with a good woman, maybe have a few kids. Not much of a dream, really, but
as bad as things have gotten in Corterra, not one easily realized either. But
now…”

“That dream need not die with
your brother.”

“But how can I have the
‘happily ever after’ when the memory of Luke dying will always be there to
haunt me. How can I forget him?”

“You can’t. And you shouldn’t.
Mourn now, Darius, but don’t think you need to punish yourself forever for what
happened today.”

“I didn’t say I felt I needed
to punish myself—”

“But that’s what you’re
thinking.”

Darius looked away. “I
shouldn’t have let him come.”

“None of us should have, in
that case. We were all trying to look out for one another, Luke in particular,
being the youngest. But he was with us because he wanted to be, and because he
knew it was the right thing to do.”

“But I was his older brother. I
should have stopped him. Sent him away.”

Silas put a hand on Darius’
shoulder. “Sasha’s older than you, right?”

“That’s not the same.”

“But how will she feel if
something happens to you?”

“The same as I feel now,”
Darius was forced to admit.

“So, are you going to turn
back?”

“You know I won’t, although
maybe I should.”

“That’s
entirely up to you, as was Luke’s decision to be here with us. Don’t let guilt
be a burden. We have enough problems without that.”

Darius thought for a time,
then took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he said, rising. “I guess I better let you
get some sleep.”

“I hope you can get some rest,
too. And I’m available anytime you need to talk.”

After Darius had left, Silas
lay down and tried to settle his own mind, but sleep was slow to come. The picture
of Luke’s mangled body was still fresh in his mind, and despite his advice to
Darius, he couldn’t stop thinking of all the things he could have done
differently, subtle changes that might have kept Luke alive. He replayed the
conversation with Darius, hoping he had said the right things. Still troubled,
he did what came naturally to him at such times. He prayed.

*

Dwarven funerals were rumored
to be somber rites followed by raucous wakes, usually attended by the whole
clan. As one would expect, the ceremony for Luke was a small, brief affair,
attended by only his companions and the members of the scouting party that had
fought the giant that had felled him. Durlag officiated, reciting ritual
dwarven prayers that the deceased be embraced by friends and family in the
afterlife. When he finished, he offered the opportunity for Luke’s friends to
speak. After a nod from Darius, Silas said a short prayer, as did Barlow. Adrianna
simply went to the tomb where they had laid him out and whispered a private
goodbye.

Darius followed Adrianna. As
he approached, he took a long, slow breath to steady himself. Luke had been
laid out in a plain tomb of gray stone. The dwarves had fashioned a white tunic
as his burial robe, and had provided him a large shield to go with his own
weapon. They had done a good job of covering his injuries, and if not for the
paleness of Luke’s face Darius might have thought he still lived. Words refused
to come, but not tears. Darius bent low and kissed his brother’s cold forehead,
then brushed away the wetness that he had left behind. As he turned away
several dwarves stepped forward, closing the tomb by placing a great stone
slab. Darius winced at the thudding sound of it slamming shut, a reaction not
to the noise, but rather what it symbolized. Luke was gone.

Durlag had privately inquired
of Barlow, Silas, and Adrianna as to the arrangements to be made after the
ceremony. A small meal was provided, which the humans took in silence. As they
finished, Darius said, “When can we be off?”

“As soon as we like,” Silas
answered. “Durlag told us he would provide a guide.”

“Then let’s be away. Time
presses.”

“We can wait a day or two,”
Adrianna said.

Darius caught the sympathy in
her tone. He shook his head. “Not necessary. We should move now.”

“We could all use a rest,”
Barlow put in.

Darius
smiled softly and sighed. “No doubt. But it’s a luxury at this point. I
appreciate what you’re all trying to do, but I’d rather move on than pace in my
room. The dwarves have been fine hosts, but this whole place feels like a tomb
to me now. I’d rather put it behind me.”

Adrianna met his steely look,
nodded and said, “I’ll tell Durlag we’re ready to depart.”

They thanked the king and were
given provisions that would last them several weeks if they rationed them smartly,
as well as advice to move as swiftly as they could. “Winter can arrive early,
and be cruel,” Durlag warned. He made a gift of four warm blankets, with an
apology that he could offer no garments of value. “Our clothes won’t exactly
fit you tall folk.”

A dwarf named Kelsten was
their guide to the northern side of the mountains. The tunnels of the dwarves
often crossed one another, sometimes even seeming to double back, and they soon
realized they would be hopelessly lost without him. After a time the tunnels
were not even lit, and Kelsten had to hold one of the torches he had brought
along to illuminate the way. Despite the contorted paths that appeared to be
little used and the lack of light, Kelsten never hesitated or wavered in his
chosen direction.

Just over four hours after
they had set out, they rounded a tight bend and came to what seemed to be a
dead end. Before anyone could comment on Kelsten’s apparent mistake, the dwarf
touched some unseen lever with his outstretched hand, and a crack appeared in
the stone wall before them. He leaned into the doorway and pushed it open, the
late afternoon light flowing in to welcome them to the surface world once more.

Kelsten held up an open palm,
asking them to wait. He peered outside, then shouldered his way into the
opening. Once he was convinced they were unseen, he led the way out.

The sun’s light seemed
unbearably strong after their time in the dwarven underworld, and they each
held a hand up to cover their eyes. Kelsten did the same, but laughed anyway. “At
least on this side we’re in the shadows of the mountains. On the south side the
sun beats right down on you.”

Their dwarven guide did not
linger long, knowing he had a long hike back. Once he was sure they needed
nothing else from him, he advised them to move away from the mountains as
quickly as they could—giants were more prevalent on the southern faces, but
were known to dwell in the north as well—and wished them well. He waved once in
recognition of their proffered thanks, then stepped back inside. A few seconds
later he had triggered some mechanism which caused the heavy stone door to draw
shut.

Barlow was careful to watch
the door close, then eyed its edges closely. “Truly remarkable,” he said. “I
can barely find the door’s outline, even now, when I know exactly where to
look.”

They all took a moment to
study and marvel at the skill the dwarves had used in the creation of the
secret door, but realizing their task was still before them, and that the sun
was westering swiftly, they set out to see what progress they might make before
nightfall.

With the mountains at their
back they could see deeper into the north now, although the terrain here was
little different than that on the other side of the mountains. If they hoped to
see any indication of the great wood the elves called home—and they each knew
that realistically it was still a week’s march away—they were disappointed. Once
they had put some distance between themselves and the giants’ mountain home,
they breathed a bit easier, and allowed themselves quiet conversation, always
wary for passing patrols or other as-yet-unthought-of dangers.

“Is it just me,” asked
Adrianna, “or is it much cooler than it was a few days ago?”

“Probably just the shadow of
the mountains,” Silas said without much conviction.