The Demon's Blade (12 page)

"That's… well that's awful," Jerris shifted uncomfortably and wrung his hands as he walked.

"Awful? I dare say it is, and there is much worse. I could tell you things about the Master that would haunt your nightmares until your death," Darien said. "Be careful what you ask about him. I might actually tell you." Jerris gulped, but — Darien flashed a sly smile, just to be certain he did not frighten the lad too much. Jerris smiled weakly back, perhaps wondering what he had gotten himself into.

Jerris remained silent for a few minutes before he began to speak again. "So why is Avirosa called the Wraith anyway?" Jerris asked, "And the Duke called you Darien the Executioner. Why the titles?"

"When an apprentice becomes a Shade, that is, when he is fully inducted into the Order, he is expected to sever all ties to friends, family, and country. Familial names are discarded, and the titles become our names in the Order. Some choose their own, and others allow the Master to choose, as Avirosa did. The Master gave Avirosa the title of Wraith because of his gaunt appearance and his skill at striking without being seen," Darien explained. "On a more basic level, we are given titles for the same reason the Demon King took the title of the ancient enemy of the elves, to instill fear in others. The Master uses many weapons against his enemies, and fear is perhaps his greatest."

“So why are you the Executioner?” Jerris pressed. “I mean, why that name? Was it your duty to carry out executions?”

Darien fell silent for a time, deciding how much to reveal to the lad. The past few days had already called the nightmare to his mind too many times, and he was not prepared to speak of it openly. Perhaps he never would be. Nevertheless, the boy probably wouldn’t let the matter be without some kind of explanation.

“Well, executions were part of my duty, yes, though not exclusively mine. The Master expected us to be able to kill on command, without hesitation, regardless of circumstance. Executions were an excellent method to train us in this skill.” Darien paused a moment and looked over at his young companion to see that the lad was accepting his explanation. Jerris looked back wide-eyed, unexpectedly curious, perhaps foolishly so. Darien sighed inwardly and continued, “My specialty was open warfare and single combat. I was usually dispatched to lands under the Master’s control to eliminate particularly powerful enemies who were beyond the skill of most of my peers. Sometimes I acted alone, but I was more often at the command of many soldiers. I never failed to eliminate the target, whether it was a city, an army, or a particular man. I was the Executioner in deed as well as name.”

"So, this Avirosa. Do you know him? Did you fight together?"

"Yes, I know him, but not well," Darien explained. "Avirosa specialized in stealth, tracking, and assassinating targets in foreign lands. His magic is subtler, and less direct than my own. He prefers not to fight at all if he can help it. He is more likely to set traps and plan ambushes, where he has the best chance of victory. He has an uncanny ability to manipulate the minds of others, and command powerful beasts to fight for him. I, however, almost always operated in the open. I was supposed to be seen, that was the point, a public demonstration of the Order’s power, and a warning to those who would dare to stand against us.”

"Is he stronger than you? Could you beat him in a fight if it came to that? Having seen what you can do, I can't imagine anyone being able to beat you."

Darien chuckled quietly; whether the lad was really so ignorant, or simply attempting flattery was unclear, but amusing either way. “Well, there is no doubt much you can’t imagine. There are perhaps ten or so shades who would stand a reasonable chance of beating me in a fight, particularly if they possessed the element of surprise. Avirosa is among them. A direct confrontation with him would be risky. He was nearly my equal in single combat when we served the Master, and I am now woefully out of practice. We stand a far better chance of getting out of this region without incident if we can avoid facing him. Still, I am fortunate in a way. There are more terrifying foes by far than Avirosa. There are the Black Council, five former shades whom the Master found so useful, that he used his power to extend their lives, and grant them inhuman abilities. The strongest of these, is Alistair the Abyss. If we encountered him, we would both die very quickly. He also has dragons in his employ," Darien explained.

"So we're trying to avoid a fight then? How long do we have before Avirosa catches up to us?"

"It's difficult to say," the older half-elf explained. "It may take only a few days for Avirosa to learn what happened at Kantu, or it may take weeks. It all depends on the diligence of the Duke. Even if we assume the worst, we will have a few days head start. Avirosa, however, will have horses and will be well supplied, so we cannot hope to move faster than him. We have a decent chance to make the southeastern pass before he can even begin pursuit. After that we will face difficult choices. There will be risks no matter what path we take.”             

"Alright, I understand, thank you," Jerris nodded, appearing to be truly grateful that his companion had shared his thoughts.

They spoke very little after this. If Jerris was distraught by his mother’s death, he did not show it. He kept up with his more experienced companion, and made no complaint. The lad seemed, for the moment, to be driven by a strong sense of purpose. He handled the sudden shock of leaving everything he’d ever known behind him, and embarking on a difficult journey with a complete stranger far better than that stranger had expected.

Darien feared more for the young man’s safety than for his own. He had long since resigned himself to a grisly fate of one kind or another. He knew that sooner or later, his luck would run out, and the Master would find him, but the thought that the innocent boy could end up sharing his fate troubled him. He was resolved to get the boy to safety. For the first time since he had betrayed the Demon King, he found himself with some purpose other than simply surviving, and that purpose more than anything else steeled him to face whatever peril lay ahead.

Chapter 12: The City of Vorog

Two days passed uneventfully as two unlikely companions made their way through the woods away from Kantu. In the early morning of the third day, they struck the road just north of the town of Raven Hill, a free town along the main road from Vorog in the east to Stalag in the west. They skirted the edge of the town to avoid being seen, and then continued on to the southeast toward Vorog.

Beyond Raven Hill, the road sloped increasingly upwards, into the Red Mountains. The massive city of Vorog lay at the intersection of three branches of the Red Mountains, ideally situated to accommodate travel under the mountains to the regions east, west, and south of the city. As they climbed the steepening road, walls of imposing white capped peaks rose on either side of them. Directly ahead, one massive peak towered high above the others, its summit lost in thin white clouds, the mountain that the dwarves named Vor the Mighty, and the travelers’ destination.

By late afternoon of the next day, Darien and Jerris stood at the massive entrance to the dwarven stronghold of Vorog. "Well, here we are," Darien said to Jerris as they weaved through the crowds toward the gate. Above them, immeasurably high, stood Vor the Mighty. Somewhere, far above, hidden by the thin wispy clouds, the high king of the Redstone dwarf clan dwelt in his palace.

The two half-elves stood in the midst of a crowd of travelers going into and out of the mountain through a huge doorway. The cavernous semicircular doorway opened like a black mouth into the mountain. Two massive iron doors, each one ten feet thick and wide as it was tall, flanked the opening. The inner faces of the open doors were adorned with relief sculptures depicting scenes of dwarves in great battles, mostly with their traditional goblin enemies. Thin grey smoke billowed lazily out of the door and up into the afternoon sky.

Just to the right of the road, a swift river sped past the base of the mountain, then tumbled down a sheer cliff face, disappearing into a veil of swirling white mist and fog, perhaps a hundred feet below. The sounds of the river rushing over the reddish gray stones and the din of the waterfall filled the air. All round the entrance, wagons, travelers, and pack animals swarmed about, trying to make their way in and out of the crowded doorway. Many wagons had lined up on the left side of the road, waiting for the inspectors to collect taxes on their various trade goods. One of the inspectors was having some sort of argument with one of the traders. They appeared to be almost yelling at one another, only about fifteen feet away, yet the words faded into the background hum of the waterfall, the river, and the voices of all the other travelers.

Darien looked over at Jerris, who had a look of sublime wonder upon his face. The older half-elf could not help but chuckle to himself. He had seen many sights while serving the Master, but there had always been some mission or objective which consumed his thoughts, absorbing all his focus, so that he did not look at his surroundings so much as assess them, relentlessly observing and analyzing every detail to gain some small advantage. It occurred to him that while he possessed knowledge of many lands and peoples, he had never truly looked at the world simply to look at it, as Jerris seemed to be doing.

That was what he had been taught in the Order, after all. In the Order of the Shade, everything was reduced to its most basic level. Art, wonder, beauty, and decoration held no place in the world of the shades. Nothing has value, but as a means to an end. If a thing serves as a means to your end, then it is an asset and should be used. If it serves as a hindrance, then it is an obstacle, and should be eliminated. If it is neither, then it is nothing, and should be treated as such. It does not matter what kind of thing it is, whether it is a weapon, or a castle, or a man, or a kingdom of men. There is no difference. Their worth is what they contribute to the end, no more and no less. Nothing else matters.

"Well, what do you think?" Darien mockingly asked his open mouthed companion.

"Amazing!" Jerris exclaimed. "I had heard the dwarven cities were a sight to behold, but I never imagined anything could be so large. How do they even move those doors? They must be fifty feet high and weigh as much as a house. "

"The gates are partially hollow,” Darien explained to his amazed young charge. “They have a solid inner and outer shell, and in between there are narrow stairs and passages where dwarves can actually move about inside. The doors themselves have iron wheels underneath them, which can be locked and unlocked. The bottom level of each door is actually open to the ground. Once the wheels are unlocked, a band of dwarves pushes against the inner shell of the door from the inside, moving with the door. Despite their size, the doors can be closed and locked in just a few minutes."

"Really?" Jerris asked in astonishment. "It takes a few minutes to shut the city gates in Kantu, and they are little higher than a single man's height."

"Kantu is rather a poor comparison. The dwarves, however, are masters of siege craft. They can fire arrows and worse from portals higher up on the doors, and from portals in the mountainside. They can hurl boulders and flaming tar from high above on the upper levels. It is nearly impossible to breach a dwarven stronghold with any amount of force. There are also countless secret entrances hidden everywhere up and down the mountain. Most of them can only be opened from the inside, and they can use them to resupply without their attackers being the wiser.” Darien looked over at Jerris, whose eyes were wide with wonder. He smiled inwardly, and continued. “There is a story, I do not know if it is true or not, that a powerful Duke came to power and united several of the northern duchies against their dwarven lords. He crowned himself King and laid siege to the dwarven city of Talanog. The siege supposedly lasted from May until December, with no sign of any supplies going into or out of the dwarven city. The harvest was very poor that year, and the winter was harsh. By the end of the siege, the new King's armies were starving, with no sign that the dwarves would yield. Finally, the dwarves parlayed with the captains of the armies, offering them food and titles in exchange for lifting the siege and overthrowing the King. The dwarves had been receiving supplies through secret tunnels all along. The captains of the armies agreed, and the King and his supporters were then easily defeated."

"That's certainly an incredible story."

"As I said, I'm not certain it's true. The dwarves care more about craft and trade than they do about weapons and wars, but they are formidable foes.”

"Alright, so what now?" Jerris asked.

"We go inside of course," Darien replied. "We should be careful. Avirosa will likely have spies watching the road. We will try to slip by unnoticed, but if we can't, we'll have to put them off our trail in the lands beyond."

With that, they stepped inside the great doors. First, they passed through a long stone tunnel which sloped slightly downward. Ordinary torches lined the outer walls. The smoke flowed up the walls and along the high ceiling towards the entrance. The tunnel bustled with wagons, horses, and travelers on foot. The scent of fire and smoke mixed with the smell of people and animals to create a mildly unpleasant odor. The tunnel bore straight on into the mountain for about a hundred feet, where it finally ended in a stone archway. The path then opened into the huge space of the main plaza.

"Wow!" Jerris exclaimed upon getting his first look at the city of Vorog. Much of the mountain had been hollowed out over the centuries. The cavern was round, or nearly so. The dome shaped ceiling loomed high above, so high that it would have appeared as nothing but a red gray expanse see were it not for the sparkle. Thousands of sparkling tiles of all colors lined the ceiling, and appeared to the people below as sparkling points of light and color. In the center of the cavern was a massive triangular pillar extending to the apex of the cavern. Three statues jutted forth from the pillar, one upon each side.  The proud dwarven figures appeared to be emerging from the very rock faces. Each depicted a proud, long-bearded, thick-muscled dwarf. One appeared to be clad in plate armor and held a massive two-handed iron axe. Another wore overalls with a smock, and held a smith's hammer. The third appeared to wear only leather pants, with a bare and muscular upper body holding a miner’s pickaxe. The massive statues gave a clear sense of the power and skill of those who made them.

Lining the outer walls of the cavern were entrances of various shapes and sizes carved into the rock. There were inns, bakeries, tradesmen, smithies, tailors, and all the usual shops one sees in any large city. Narrow grooves had been carved into the floor for decoration, depictions of heroes, kings, wild creatures, abstract shapes, and spiraling patterns. Some ways off to the right, the road sloped into a ramp which headed up to another level, and then on that level, the road continued around the city until it ran up another ramp up to a third level. Horses and carts passed up and down the wide path on the first three levels. After the third, the ascending ramps narrowed, but continued at least ten more levels that could be accessed on foot. To the left was another ramp that descended to the lower levels of the city, and eventually into the mines far below where the dwarves extracted ores and gems from the depths of the earth. A second semicircular tunnel nearly identical to the one they passed through opened at the opposite side, leading out of the city to other lands further eastward.

"Where does the light come from?" Jerris asked curiously, noticing the absence of torches. "Is it some kind of magic?"

"Well, yes and no," Darien spoke thoughtfully. "It was the dwarves who developed magical torches like the one I gave you when we first met. However, they are technically fire magic, and are not all that different from regular torches. The principle difference is that the smoke is reabsorbed into the torch. They are a practical solution to the problem of smoke in underground areas. They use those torches during the night hours. During the day, the light you see comes entirely from the sun. As I understand it, the light is gathered in special sun rooms high above, and then sent all over the city by a system of enchanted crystals and mirrors. I cannot imagine how they were able to design such a complex method, but it appears to work well enough. There is also a main torch high in that central pillar that provides light to this cavern at night."

"How interesting. Can we go see these rooms?"

"This is not a sightseeing trip…" the older half-elf crossed his arms and groaned in frustration. “We don't need to linger here any longer than we must, and the dwarves don't allow travelers to wander around the city to discover all their secrets." Jerris grumbled audibly, as this companion led him off to the right towards the ramp.

"So where are we going then?"

"I want to visit an acquaintance of mine," Darien answered. "There is a bookseller, a very old dwarf who may be able to read that book with the prophecy in it. The book may or may not be helpful, but it is the only lead we have."

"Then you really do intend to look for the city!" Jerris said.

"You seem surprised," Darien said with a smirk.

"I guess I didn't really expect you to take it seriously," the lad replied. "I’m not really sure I take it seriously myself. I was just glad that you allowed me to travel with you. I didn't like the idea of trying to get away from Avirosa on my own."

"That's quite a sensible attitude," Darien said in amusement. "Evading him remains our first priority, but we should investigate as we can. We need to find someone who can read that book. This bookseller may be able to read some of it, or he may know someone who can. Either way, there's very little risk in simply asking. If there are any spies watching or following us, it will be easier to mark their presence if we wander about. The longer someone follows a target, the likelier the target is to realize, and I am no easy target.”

They headed up the ramps and into the upper levels of the city. On the higher levels, the streets gradually narrowed until they were little more than hallways. They tunneled some ways back into the mountain, forming a maze of interlocking passages, each one much like the next. Only the shops and residences differed. Most of the doorways had names carved into stone above them, though a few had etched metal plaques instead. Darien wound his way through the maze of dim hallways until he came to a wooden doorway. The bronze plaque above the door read 'Tobin Tostag, Scribe and Bookseller'.

Darien knocked on the door, and a white-bearded dwarf answered the door. He stood about four feet tall with a white beard that stretched halfway to the floor, and a mustache so thick that his mouth was barely visible beneath it. Sharp piercing brown eyes peered from beneath bushy white eyebrows, which reached nearly up to the dwarf’s crown of thick white hair. From what little was visible of his face, it was apparent that he was very old. Behind his eyes, one could clearly see a keen intellect and a long life's worth of knowledge and wisdom. He wore a long brown woolen robe with a white, fluffy fringe, and plain white woolen clothes beneath. Despite his obvious age, the man possessed strong thick limbs, and appeared as sturdy as the mountain itself. 

"Well what do you want?" the dwarf asked in a gruff tone. His voice was deep and earthy and seemed to fit well with the stone of the city.

"Tobin," Darien replied. "I have a book I'd like you to take a look at."

"I'm not interested in the books of common men," Tobin replied gruffly. "I don't know what book you could have that would be interesting enough to require my attention. There are many shops on the lower levels with competent scribes that might aid you…"