The Soul Sphere: Book 02 - The Final Shard (29 page)

All agreed, noting that Solek would soon enough be able to guess where the Sphere was, once they stepped beyond the edges of the trees.

“Should I?” Tala asked her father.

He nodded solemnly.

She placed the Sphere in her hand and cast the finding spell while all about her held their breath. A shadow passed over her face, and all knew what it meant, but it passed quickly. She knew what to expect, and hadn’t really thought Solek would allow the final piece out of his possession. Once done, Tala slipped the Sphere back in the cloaking bag. She sagged a bit, weakened by the magical energy she had expended.

Deron was there to steady her. He told her all was well as he helped her sit on the ground. “Take your time,” he whispered.

“I’m alright,” she said. “Solek still has it. He sits upon a stone throne in Citadel.”

This surprised no one. The Veldoon seat of power was the city Citadel, so called because of its defensive position on the coast. Unassailable from the sea due to the high, sheer cliffs that ran all along the Veldoon coast, the city was built with tall, thick walls and powerful fortifications. No one discussed how they might hope to assault the city, which they would need to do to reach Solek himself. They understood there were many perils to be overcome before they would need to deal with that problem.

“It is well,” Deron said. “Solek will need to expend more power to strike at us over such a distance, and I doubt he will allow us to enter his land unchallenged. If we hope to weaken him as we advance—which we have stated is our goal—then we should be pleased he is content to sit upon his throne, rather than taking to the field.” Deron spoke with such authority on the matter that no one would have challenged his comments, even if they had disagreed.

They decided on their plan of march, desiring to stay twenty miles or so from the foot of the Gray Mountains until they neared the pass, which would also keep them away from any unknown danger from the Demon Hills. The elves would march on the right, nearest to Veldoon, flanked by the Delvish, the Ridonians, the Corindors, and finally the dwarves on the far left. They would march close, with riders ready to send news of trouble coming from any direction so the entire force could be brought to bear on any enemy.

*          *          *

Four days of cautious movement had allowed then to cover half the distance from the edge of the Eastern Forest to the Saber Pass. The world around them was eerily silent, unnoticeable when they moved in force, but when one stood on the fringes of the camp or a rider stilled his mount some distance from the main body there was an emptiness that seemed just beyond perception, and the lone person found themselves yearning for human companionship, though they often did not know why.

Scouts returned that day, bringing tidings of the Lorgrasians and the goblins. They had found scouts from Lorgras, exchanged information on the positions of their armies, and then returned with the good news. The two sets of scouts had estimated the Lorgrasian/goblin force would arrive a day or so earlier than the group advancing from the south, but that assumed neither was hindered in their movement. As the armies closed on one another and their destination, the scouts could guide them to a link-up safely distant from the pass, such that they could arrive there together.

As night fell and they made camp, there was a lightness in their spirit, and voices grew a bit louder, jokes were told and songs were sung. They marched in the open, and had been unopposed for days now, even as they neared Solek’s doorstep, and now more strength was arriving from the west. More than one soldier speculated that Solek had already done his worst, and that victory would soon be theirs.

The leaders let their forces enjoy themselves within limits—and the lack of ale or beer pretty much ensured those limits would not be pushed. But those in charge, while relieved and pleased at the news from the west, had no delusions as to the certainty of victory. Solek would be heard from, sooner or later.

A loud rumbling was heard that night from beyond the Gray Mountains, a distant storm growling its threats. The sound stilled the singing and loud talk, and as eyes turned toward Veldoon they saw great black clouds in the far reaches of that land, rimmed with red as if they were ablaze. Suddenly stout hearts were quailed, and fear found a new home.

Rowan was not sure what to make of the storm, and Demetrius and Corson exchanged wary looks, remembering the acid rain that had fallen during the assault of the Dead Legion on Mill Harbor. Tala had ridden to visit her father and asked what he thought.

“He is angry,” Deron said. “He knows we come. Such open defiance he probably did not expect.”

Tala saw her father’s expression was one of mild amusement rather than concern. “It is well then?”

“He wastes his energy on a show of anger.” He wheeled and spoke loudly to any who would hear. “He means to make us tremble before his display of might, but I see it for weakness on his part. Be at ease. It is a dog barking in the night. His bite is fierce, but no more so than what we already have felt. He will find us advancing in the morning, not running away. Pass the word down the line—it will take more than this petty show to frighten us.”

There were some nods, and a few uneasy smiles, and Deron’s words were spread quickly through the assembled forces. The distant storm still drew their attention, but they would rest easier now, and would go forward as one at dawn.

Tala followed Deron into his tent. “You have changed, father. You surprise me.”

“I have not changed as much as you might think,” he said quietly, so as not to be overheard by those outside. “It is, I think, more of a temper tantrum than anything else, but we have his full attention now, and his wrath will be terrible.”

“Then why—”

“Fear will not help us. We are committed to go forward. As leader, I owe it to our people to keep their spirits up and their hopes alive, faint though I think they might be. When the time comes to stand against him, we must not flinch.”

“So you would give them hope where you have none.”

Deron did not reply, simply looked away as if he could see the blazing clouds through the fabric of his tent.

“And what of me?” Tala asked. “Would you take my hope away?”

Deron stepped to the opening of his tent, then turned back to face her. “Far from it. I expect you to have enough hope for both of us.” With that he left her alone to contemplate his words and the coming storm.

*          *          *

If anything, the clouds were darker and more foreboding in the morning, but they stayed distant, a black shroud of anger that Solek wore around his shoulders. The Gray Mountains rose bleak and drear, their name apt, and upon the jagged peaks could now be seen sentinels, winged beasts that were not spawned in this world. The humans could see them when they took to the air, black shapes similar in form to men, but with large membranous wings that carried them with easy, gentle motions. The elves, closer and with keener eyes, could make out their features, and while they might be similar to man or elf in shape, they were clearly from the pit from which the Dark One himself had issued. As the army moved so did the creatures, marking them. The winged beasts made no move to close upon them, apparently content for now to watch from their lofty perches.

Rowan pulled his Avenger sword an inch out of its scabbard, enough to see the faint white glow, then returned it to its place with a nod of confirmation.

Tala was riding next to him, and was no more surprised by the glow of the blade than he was. “Spies of sorts, I suppose.”

“But with no need of secrecy. They want us to know we are being watched, and that Solek knows exactly where we are.”

“No change of plans?”

Rowan shrugged. “No reason to. Looks like those things could keep up with us, and out of bowshot, regardless of where we go. Never had any real hope of sneaking into Veldoon anyway.”

“Not with an army,” Tala agreed.

For a time the armies moved in a silent, hunched-over shuffle, as if waiting for a blow to fall. But after a time they began to relax somewhat, seeing that danger, while there, may not have been as imminent as they had first thought. In a way it made for great theatre, winged demons with a burning black cloud blazing behind them, and broke up the monotony of a long day’s march. The creatures remained at night, hidden by the darkness but outlined by an occasional flare of flame or lightning, their black eyes always turned to the camps below. Despite a strong guard being placed each night, sleep did not come easily, and as the days passed a weariness began to settle deep into the bones of Solek’s enemies. The very air seemed to grow oppressive—hot and heavy.

Corson commented on these feelings one day. “I half wish those things would attack.”

“But not really,” Demetrius replied with a knowing smile.

“Not really,” Corson agreed. “But the waiting is starting to wear me down.”

“It’s affecting everyone. We should reach the Saber Pass tomorrow or the following day. I doubt we’ll need to wait much past that time for Solek to make a move.”

Corson smiled. “I guess I’d better be careful what I wish for, in that case.” He watched the winged creatures, those in flight tracing lazy circles before alighting again at a place further along the path of the armies’ march and taking up the constant vigil once again.

*          *          *

They had left the Demon Hills behind, a stark marker of bad memories, and come into the fields before the Saber Pass, the gap between the Black and Gray Mountains directly before them. Through the pass was the menacing cloud that swirled and boiled, Solek’s bottled rage ready to be unleashed. Even the goblins, for all their bravado, were subdued by the sight. Mists had tracked them for three days now, so they moved swiftly, all chance of surprise gone. There was no need to increase the size of the guard at night—it was already large, with plenty of volunteers since the attack of the hill trolls.

Alexis gave the cloud little more notice than she had given the Mists. She had come for war, and these were merely signs that Solek was prepared to give it. She rode proud and tall, and her horse, perhaps sensing his rider’s strength and resolve, strode forward fearlessly. Alexis knew her troops watched her, and she would give them no reason to think she was wavering in her chosen path, now nearing its end.

Scouts returned with news of their allies moving to join them from the south, contact only a day away if they made for one another, less than two if they both moved toward the pass. “We can mark their progress from here,” one of the riders added.

“How so?” Alexis asked, seeing no movement over the fields.

The rider pointed to the peaks of the Gray Mountains, where dark, shadowy shapes could be seen. From where Alexis sat they looked like birds and she stated as much.

“So they might appear,” said the rider, “but we are distant. Winged demons they are, and they stalk the southern armies.”

“These demons do not attack?”

“Not yet.”

“Just like the Mists with us,” she mused aloud. “The Dark One wants us to know he knows where we are. But I’ll take the fact that he stays his hand as a good sign, whether it is so or not. If he could take us now, before we join with them, he would. Since he does not, he cannot. A reminder that he is not all-powerful.” She came out of her reverie, to see the scout staring at her wide-eyed. “But still a formidable foe,” she added. “Tell our goblin friends what you have seen. We will keep on for the pass, and join with our southern friends at the foot of the mountains. There we will decide how best to proceed.”

The rider bowed and rode off to carry out her assignment. Alexis watched the distant shadows moving on the mountains, and saw that they indeed only moved north when changing their position. She smiled a soft, hopeful smile.

*          *          *

The armies came together two days later, less than a day’s march from the Saber Pass. They greeted one another—mainly as new allies, but in a few cases as old friends, while above them the Mists and winged demons watched. The storm over Veldoon still raged, the cloud flashing now and again with red-tinged lightning.