The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (45 page)

Rohan smelled the woman's hair. It was as pleasant as a dawning spring morn. He fought down the urge to love her, but his body seemed to be betraying his logic.

Dorian pulled away, amused by the fact that the elf had an erection.

"And what is this?" Dorian playfully asked with her eyes.

Rohan took hold of Dorian's chin and pulled her eyes back up to him.

"Our friends will not betray you."

"I hope that you are right," Dorian said, her hands rubbing the elf's sex. "I want you."

"And I you."

"We shall try for a moment, later." Dorian pulled away and changed.

Rohan gave his love a bad face, now that he'd have to see him again as a man.

"Come now," Dorian said as he grabbed his ax. The rough little dwarf pulled a bone out of his beard and tossed it over his shoulder to one side. Rohan guessed the object had to have been left over from an earlier meal. "We have a mission to uphold."

"Right you are, dear."

Both went back out upon the main deck.

The waves started to ripple. Then the ripple started to bubble. The
Argo
darted skyward, and blasted up, like an animal gasping for air. The ship continued to climb, until it was greater than halfway out of the water, then, slowly, it fell seaward, splashing huge waves as if proclaiming that she had arrived. Her entrance was a glorious one.

Too bad she hadn't an audience to appreciate it.

Her explosive entrance echoed through the meeting hall like a cannon explosion in a church. Salty waves cascaded from her simple wooden hull to splash forth upon the finest marble ever mined, carved, and set by mortal beings.

Bright blues and grays attacked the senses. Ancient glass windows, craving once more the warm rays of the suns, held back entire oceans, crystallizing into a dark deep black.

"Holy hell!"

The crew of the
Argo
turned to glance upon Molly, who gawked like an idiot in an art museum. Her expression matched the wonder of the entire crew.

She, of course, was the only one with the courage to express it.

"Sorry," the woman said, embarrassed.

"It's all right, my child." Keeth was just as dumbfounded. "I think you hit the peg with the mallet, there."

"Dorian," Ka-Ron asked, turning away from the guardrail. Her new dress showed off her feminine beauty more than anyone on board had been used to. The dwarf had to ask himself, was she accepting her new role as a woman?

"Yes, knight?"

"Where are we?" Ka-Ron looked up, marveling at the sheer brilliance in the hall's beautiful artwork.

The ceiling of the hall was spectacular - more impressive than any temple or church could produce: various dwarfs hammering into rocks, producing vast amounts of gold, silver, copper, jewels&other dwarfs, cutting, polishing, and rendering their earthly findings into beautiful treasures to be enjoyed by others. Above them, the clouds had parted, and the gods, themselves, looked upon the dwarf race, and they were pleased. Whoever the artist was who had created such a mural, he was not only a brilliant talent, he also had the right to be called a master.

Dorian looked up at the spectacular mural, wondering if anyone would ever know the name of the woman who had painted it.

"Ka-Ron, we are now in the center of the throne room." Dorian lifted his arms, casting his pride in all directions. "Here, the mighty dwarf kings ruled with both wisdom and great labor."

So overcome with joy in his ancient heritage, Dorian forgot himself for an instant, and took up Rohan's hand in his. Then, as if to play it off, the elf toyed with the dwarf's hair, as if to evoke feelings of fraternity and friendship.

"Where should we dock?" the wizard asked.

"Near the steps leading to the throne," Dorian suggested, lifting his ax and resting it upon his right shoulder. "If memory serves, the room containing The Fountain of Cures is just beyond the hallway, past the chapel."

"Then that is where we shall go."

Keeth pulled and lowered more of his magical levers.

The
Argo
became a normal seafaring vessel once more.

"Rohan," Keeth ordered, pointing toward the marble deck atop the grand stairs, half in the water, and half out. "Jump over to the main hall, and secure our lines."

The wizard did not have to ask twice. Even before the wizard had finished his explanation, the elf had sprinted up, over, and onto dwarfish territory. He marveled at the grandeur, while at the same time, taking hold of the boat lines, securing the
Argo
to her temporary berth.

The ship innocently bumped a few times, coming to rest on the ancient staircase.

"Ha!" the wizard laughed. "We are landed."

It did not take long for both Molly and Ka-Ron to get the same idea.

Both went back into the ship, in the cabins, and brought out En-Don. It was quite surprising to see the two of them working as one, considering.

En-Don was not looking good. As the curse seemed to progress, it was slowly taking away an innocent life. Molly was bearing up - love always had a way to help smooth out the ruffles. Ka-Ron was the nervous wreck.

Her son was looking like a man in his seventieth season of life. If both stood side to side, there would clearly be the mistaken notion that En-Don was the parent, or, in some eyes, the grand-parent. True, he still maintained a level of stamina, betraying his appearance. Molly's bedside mood contested to that. But, indeed, the man was looking quite frail.

"Thank you, mother." En-Don huffed, inspecting his armor. "I am quite capable of walking."

Ka-Ron let go, silently apologizing. Her worried eyes sought out Jatel, who, like her, missed nothing. Jatel signaled his master to calm down. Like all children, En-Don had to learn for himself.

The agony upon the knight's face was pure torture.

"Be quiet, sire." Jatel tried to calm Ka-Ron, walking up behind her, and rubbing her shoulders.

The knight rolled her eyes with a secret pleasure. "I thank you for the comfort, Jatel. I worry. I do worry for him, so."

"You would not be someone I would respect, if you did not, sire."

Ka-Ron paused.

She started studying Molly.

En-Don pulled out his mother's sword, wanting to wipe it down with oil, in case he needed it later for combat. Molly, trying her best to keep a positive face, aided Ka-Ron's son with all attention. Every so often, when En-Don turned his head, or when she thought nobody was looking, Molly betrayed the thoughts she was projecting. Molly was feeling the pain of loss. Slowly, cycle by cycle, her love was being put to an extreme test. Her eyes beamed happiness and sincerity each time En-Don looked to her for strength, but, Ka-Ron wondered, where could Molly turn?

Molly was alone.

"Jatel," Ka-Ron softly said, kissing Jatel's hands. "Look how she worries so."

"Molly?" Jatel said. "She's seems to be holding up well."

"She loves him." Ka-Ron's tone turned soft.

"Of course she does."

"I might have misjudged her."

Jatel stopped his task of rubbing Ka-Ron's shoulders, turning her to face him. The squire was quite beside himself with surprise.

"I am a fortunate man."

"Jatel, I was just&"

The squire, being quite adventurous, quickly placed his hand up to his master's lips, causing the woman to stop. Ka-Ron was all surprise.

"I have lived long enough to hear Ka-Ron of Idoshia state that she has made a mistake."

Each glared at the other for a long and silent moment.

Ka-Ron started to laugh. The sound of her laughter spread throughout the ship. It was one rare, and honest, moment to cherish.

"Dorian?" Keeth asked, waving the dwarf to stand by him on the bridge deck.

Both Rohan and Dorian joined the wizard.

"Yes?" the dwarf asked.

Keeth pointed out toward the greeting area, just east of the ancient dwarf thrones. "What are those, if I may ask?"

Dorian's eyes turned wide.

Throughout the ruins of the great hall, beyond where the
Argo
was currently resting, mummified bodies littered the floor. These bodies had the appearance of having just been assaulted and left where they had fallen. There was no evidence of foul play, war, or sickness. It just looked as if sometime in the ancient past, they just stopped - devoid of all life, their last agonizing moment forever frozen upon their faces.

They were all dwarfs.

Over half of them appeared to be wearing dresses.

Keeth gave the dwarf an inquiring glance: one that just could not be ignored.

"They are what remains of the greatest generation." Dorian answered. The dwarf bowed his head in respect and reverence.

"The greatest generation?"

"Yes, wizard. They are the remnants of those who lived here during the time that Jah-Bul-On reigned above the waters."

Dorian discovered that he was surrounded by all of his friends. He felt terrible, having to lie to them&having secretly to hide the greatest secret belonging to the dwarfish way of life.

"Some of the bodies look female," Jatel happened to say, looking out at the ruins.

"Elfish servants, no doubt," Dorian added.

This last comment had caused Rohan to glance down at his dear friend. The dwarf's eyes betrayed his gruff exterior. Dorian was in agony. He did not like the idea of lying. He was here to help a friend. He was here out of the kindness of his heart, and the boldness needed to give honest aid. Lying should have been nowhere in the equation.

Rohan felt deeply for Dorian's pain. He reached out, trying his best to hide the fact that he wanted to caress his face, but Dorian beat him to the punch. Turning away, Dorian cleared his throat.

The elf was left standing awkwardly, with his hand suspended in the cold air.

"Tell us, then," the wizard asked. "What happened here?"

"Ah!" the dwarf sprang to life. Like all of his race, storytelling was both a passion and an art. This he could do! "As I have stated before, the miners of this city were known to stand out amongst the dwarf race. They were, of course, skilled in almost all forms of mining, but, they were also known for their greed and ambition."

"Naturally," Rohan added, trying his best to recover from Dorian's slight.

"When the fountain was discovered, they all profited greatly from it. But the fountain was not meant for mortals. Baphomet, sensing the fountain, claimed it as his own. He caused all these deaths."

"Still, there appear to be quite a lot of female corpses here, my dwarfish friend." The wizard's glance was a long one.

Dorian did not look up at the old man.

"Well, we should prepare to get underway," Keeth continued, brushing his robes. "En-Don can no longer wait."

Everyone prepared.

From out of the room's darkness, there came forth an animalistic roar. Its savage sounds thundered throughout the ancient dwarfish ruins. Traces of dust knocked loose from the high etchings created a shower of debris.

"What in the blazes was that?" Molly asked. Upon hearing the terrifying sound, the woman found herself seeking En-Don's arms.

Dorian turned his attention back to the blackened hallways.

"Baphomet!" the dwarf uttered.

The Fountain of Cures couldn't really be called a fountain, in the traditional sense. More precisely, it was a huge bowl-like pool filled with cool crystal water. What made it a fountain, to the dwarfs, was the fact that a hole at the center of the bowl allowed the water to be recycled via an underground well.

"Tell me, Dorian," Ka-Ron asked. "What does Baphomet look like?"

Dorian paused, lighting several torches.

"I cannot say. Still, legend has it that he appears to each of us in the form we would recognize."

"How's that?" Rohan asked, accepting a torch.

"In the old stories, Baphomet uses the powers of illusion to keep his hold. He appears as a form you would love, hate, or fear. Anything he can use to trip your guard, he will do so." Dorian shook his head. "That is why my people fear him."

"Is there a collective fear that all dwarfs share, then?" Keeth asked.

"Yes, wizard." Dorian side-glanced Rohan. "That is why we have all given the beast the solitude he wishes."

The hallways were just as corpse-ridden as the throne room. Mummified grins seemed to peer out from the darkness, momentarily lighted by each of the group's flaming torches. Dorian kept his concentration away from the wizard, who, every now and then, continued to glance his way. Did Keeth know? Could he suspect?

Whatever the wizard may think, I will not openly betray my people.

Dorian kept his focus on the lighted opening before them.

"There's the fountain!" the dwarf said, his voice a whisper.

Everyone froze.

No one, at first, seemed to know what to do.

For countless seasons, he had slept in his chair. Having spared one dwarf's life - he couldn't even remember why - Baphomet had been told that his chair used to belong to a religious figure who had paid homage to the gods for their good fortune. It made for an appropriate rest.

Something moved.

Opening one eye quite lazily, Baphomet was amazed to see torchlight coming his way.

It was time to have some fun.

As Dorian had stated, the demon Baphomet made himself known to each of the group in a different form.

To Rohan, he was his father.

To Dorian, a hooded monk.

To En-Don, a giant spider.

To Jatel, he was Ka-Ron.

To Molly, he was invisible.

And, to Ka-Ron, Baphomet was her in her former self.

"To the Gods!" Ka-Ron huffed, gazing up at the beast with wonder and fascination.

"Who dares enter my domain?" Baphomet asked, rising from his chair.

It had been a long time since Ka-Ron had seen her true reflection. Her male image glared down at her with sharp eyes. Baphomet knew her weakness, and he knew it well. Only one person could beat her in combat, and that was herself.

"You are not allowed here!" Baphomet stated, pointing a strong arm out towards Ka-Ron.