A Whisper After Midnight (10 page)

Anienam took a few days before he was able to figure out the creatures were Harpies. A taste of their blood and a few feathers mixed with random chemicals told him everything he needed to know. The temptation to throw his use of magic back at Dorl nearly won through but he maintained enough composure to let it pass. Besides, he’d had his share of being wrong already. Their fragile group didn’t need any more distractions to their cohesion.

“Harpies?” Skuld asked. The wonder in his voice was almost innocent, refreshing.

Anienam waved generally. “An ancient race but one quickly dying out. Humanity has encroached upon their roosts. Much of the world has changed since their kind filled the skies. We are a blessing and a bane to all that came before us.”

Bahr grunted. “Seems to me the bane comes from those flying monsters.”

“They kill because they have no choice.”

Boen broke out in deep, bellowing laughter. “You don’t find deer trying to kill us for taking their lands, old man! Those bastards are killers, no doubt about it. They are hunting us and we still don’t know for whom. I can’t wait to wrap my fingers around one of their necks.”

“Life requires more than mindless violence, Gaimosian,” Anienam snapped back. “There comes a time when thinking is more important than skill with a sword.”

Boen waved him off. “Say what you will but keep your propaganda for youth like Skuld here. I’ve seen enough of Malweir to know where true strength lies.”

“Pay him no mind, Skuld. His kind has lost much and their plight formed the paths of their lives. There is no changing a man like that,” Anienam told the boy. He watched Skuld, constantly evaluating the former street urchin to see if he had the potential to take his place as the last in the line of Mages and wizards. His nightmares revolved around the order finally dying. Anienam wasn’t a strong man, nor were his convictions solid enough to change the world, and the thought of Malweir being unguarded against those dangerous powers lurking in the dark propelled him on. Besides, his father would have wanted it.

The wagon rumbled on, ever drawing nearer to the Kergland Spine and the next stage of their journey. He hadn’t been through Dwarf lands in decades and proved little help to the planning process. Not even Boen had experience with the Dwarves. They were a secretive race, mistrusting and unwilling to interact with the other races unless necessary. Once, long ago when the order of Mages first came to power, the Dwarves were an important part of Malweir politics. They held offices across the lands and ran banks and other institutions. The war for the crystal of Tol Shere forced them back in seclusion and concreted their suspicions towards the other races.

“This is all so new to me,” Groge commented after sensing Anienam’s deep sorrow. “I know only the granite mountaintops and the crisp bite of winter winds. This, this is almost alien to my kind. Wondrous and tempting.”

“There is much the lowlands offer that cannot be found lost in the mountains. A shame you didn’t come down in the summer when the flowers bloom and the birds roam free,” Anienam said and smiled. “The abundance of life refreshes the soul.”

The Giant nodded without understanding the concepts Anienam presented. “The very air is changed. I can smell no forge, no folded steel. Much of the oppression in the atmosphere is not here. I can breathe freely.”

“Wait until you witness the seduction of the seas for the first time, my friend,” Bahr added, riding up alongside. “Once she takes your hand she will steal your heart.”

“I have read of the sea,” Groge said, smiling. “Is it true the water goes on forever?”

“Damned near. I’ve sailed much of the northern seas and there were times when I was certain all land had faded away. It can make a Man feel very small.”

“What about a Giant?”

Bahr laughed. “Even a Giant. The majesty of the sea is without compare. Not even your mighty forges hold sway with the raw power of the water.”

“The elders would never allow us to leave Venheim just for the sake of witnessing something they deem trivial,” Groge said sadly. “Will we have the opportunity to go there on this journey?”

“I don’t know, but there is always a chance,” Bahr replied.

“Time and Fate often have little to do with one another,” the wizard added. “Anything is possible. I haven’t been able to foresee much since we left Delranan.”

“What of the war consuming your homelands?” Groge asked after a few moments. “We have had no part in wars for centuries.”

Anienam snapped the reins and pushed the horses slightly harder, leaving Bahr to deal with talk of wars and killing. He had no stomach for either. Soon even the sound of their banter drifted to mumblings. So much of his life had been dedicated to helping others; to altering the course of things for the better of all Malweir. He selflessly abandoned any chance at having a family, an heir, any hope of a normal life, for the greater good. There were times he wasn’t sure he could continue, but the next dawn always found him putting one foot in front of the other. Anienam was tried and tested, but remained constant.

The threat of the dark gods returning hounded his conscience. How many times in Malweir’s long history had they tried to return? To reclaim what once belonged to them and bring the world to ruin? He knew of at least five. Much was necessary if the dark gods had a chance of being released into the world. A great confluence of powers needed to happen first. He felt such power in the air. It rode the currents and charged the atmosphere. Anienam could taste the powers of the dark gods as they strained against the immaterial fabric of their prison. They wanted back as much he needed to find a way to keep them out.

What little warmth offered by the sun faded moments after kissing his aged skin. Time was an enemy, he contemplated glumly. No Man should have to endure the amount of sorrow and hardships he had. Not the most wicked. He acted in the vain hopes of defending his new friends and what they stood for, but even as he rode among them he knew many would not live to see the end of this adventure. Death forever hounded their footsteps. That only a few were claimed thus far was miraculous.

A handful of crewmen from the
Dragon’s Bane
were murdered upon returning from Rogscroft, along with the majority of the survivors of Ionascu’s Men. Badron’s absence left Delranan a mess, especially when Harnin One Eye made his bid for power. So much wanton destruction for what? The hastening of the end of the world? Anienam wished he could find a way out, a chance to end the threat of being lost under the crushing weight of the dark gods forever, but it was not in his visions.

All enemy powers seemed focused on stopping the small band of would-be heroes. The Dae’shan knew what dangers Bahr truly posed and would stop at nothing to kill him before he got to the Blud Hamr. Too many careful plans stood in the balance for the Sea Wolf to be allowed even the slightest chance of success. The Harpies were testament to that but were most certainly not the only tool at the Dae’shan’s disposal. Evil collected more evil. Any manner of nightmares could be awaiting them just around the bend. The old wizard found the thought daunting and he nearly gave thought to turning and abandoning the quest.

The idea threatened to steal his sanity so he gave a final look to the looming mountains and handed Skuld the reins. He then climbed into the wagon bed and retrieved the ancient text they’d nearly died for in the caverns under Chadra. Clues to their great mystery rested within and, though he was the only one to place the whole of his faith in the text, remained to be discovered. Without it they never would have found the Bergin Pass and the road to the forge of Giants. Venheim had been undiscovered by Man for centuries, making them the first explorers to interact with that ancient race in recent history. At any other time it would have been a tremendous achievement worthy of celebration. Too much rode on their shoulders for it to be anything less than life threatening.

A shame really. I should have liked to stay and learn more. They are a remarkable people with much to contribute to the younger races
. He sighed.
If only
. Anienam turned the pages daftly and with the care of a new mother. His initial time tables suggested they needed to have the hammer back in Delranan a week ago. The absence of the dark gods told him how wrong he’d been but that only strengthened his worries. Their lives depended on how accurately he could translate the book.
Nothing like a little extra pressure just when I don’t need it
.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Maleela asked upon waking from her nap. Long days and even longer nights left her exhausted. The others tended to forget she’d been on the road the longest, having been “kidnapped” by Aurec and taken to Rogscroft months ago. The horrors of that first night plagued her dreams almost as much as the thought that her life with Aurec appeared unobtainable. To reduce the stress she took to sleep.

Anienam didn’t mean to ignore her, but he was already engrossed in the book.

She made a show of clearing her throat and nudged him with a boot. “I am perhaps the only person in Delranan who’s read most if not all of the books in the royal libraries.”
Not that the library was much to boast on
. She doubted it contained more than one hundred books.

“You haven’t read this one,” Anienam said absently. His lips silently mouthed phrases and paragraphs as he dug deeper.

“You’re not giving me a chance, again. I grow tired of being ignored, wizard,” Maleela said sternly. As princess she was unaccustomed to being so casually dismissed.

The wagon continued on in awkward silence.

They camped at dusk. Only Boen and the wizard had ever ventured this far east and their recollections of the terrain were vague at best. Boen and Bahr studied the handful of maps purchased in Fedro, hoping to find the quickest route through the mountains and the river beyond. Added pressures of time running out and being hunted burdened both Men. Their troubles in the Murdes Mountains weighed heavily, forcing them to debate each decision no matter how minor.

The gentle cracklings of the small campfire broke the monotony of an otherwise silent encampment. Ionascu, crippled and broken, hummed a childhood lullaby from the edge of the small glade they’d confiscated for the night. His wild eyes darted from person to person. Plots formed and dispelled. He hated each for different reasons but reserved his true hatred for the One Eye. They’d once worked together, comrades and hesitant friends, but Harnin’s betrayal left Ionascu a hollow fragment of the Man he had been. He vowed to kill Harnin before this nightmare ended.

“I don’t trust him,” Skuld quietly told Maleela. His continued exclusion forced him further from the main group and left him seeking companionship from the fallen princess and the wizard. All of his dreams of being a sword-wielding hero gradually faded away.

She poked at the fire with an already charred stick. “Who?”

“Ionascu. He is a bad Man.”

Maleela paused and glanced over to where the older Man rocked gently, knees drawn up and head down. “There are many bad Men, Skuld. He’s the worst sort, a traitor. My father used dozens of Men like him while he consolidated power. Ionascu was once Harnin’s most trusted spy. I’m not sure what went wrong.”

“They would come to the streets and hire boys to spy for them, do odds jobs after the sun went down. I never thought they were touchable.”

She offered a half smile. “Everything has changed in Delranan. Men like Ionascu aren’t necessary past their singular uses. Harnin has always been a rat. He showed his true colors the moment my father departed for the war.”

“Why do we keep him with us?”

She had no answer. Whatever Bahr’s motivations were he failed to inform her, a fact Maleela found increasingly frustrating. She hated being left out, forced away from plans and thoughts. Objectively she knew it made sense. She was the daughter of the king and a liability, regardless of her strained relationship. That didn’t prevent her from gnawing on growing anger. She’d been stolen twice, once against her will. She’d endured harsh treatments from her captors and witnessed more fighting in the last few months than in her entire life. Men were dying in her name and it sickened her. She wanted to ball her fists and scream to the heavens. More, she wanted to be left alone. And if that wasn’t going to happen she wanted, needed, to be involved in the planning process, if for no other reason than peace of mind.

When she spoke at last it was with heavy tones. “Because he is just as much of a misfit as the rest of us. He can’t go home any more than we can.”

“I wish he wasn’t here. I don’t trust him.” Skuld went back to finishing the chunk of slightly stale dark bread. Whatever solace he searched for in the fire remained private but that didn’t prevent him from brooding while he ate.

Maleela empathized. Her trust diminished the longer the quest took. She gave Ionascu a last look before going back to the fire.

“We should go north and circle around the mountains,” Boen’s voice dominated the camp suddenly.

Bahr, face red, vehemently shook his head. “That adds too much time. Time we don’t have. We need to get south by the quickest route possible. Going around the entire mountain range will add weeks of extra travel.”

“The Spine is not as forgiving as the Murdes,” Boen said and frowned. “We barely made it down from them. The rock is different too. Sharp and wicked. The bones of many travelers decorate the passes. I would not try it with such a large group in the dead of winter.”