Can't Look Back (War for Dominance Book 1) (10 page)

Dantes led the group through the tunnel. Compared with the din they experienced on their earlier trip, the relative silence seemed eerie. Only a random shriek every few minutes pierced the muffling nature of the tunnel complex. Lady Ellyn winced every time she heard one. Even in the minimal light, John could see that she wanted to be out among the civilians, saving as many as she could, for as long as she was able.

After a particularly long scream, Father Telenor put his hand on her arm, offering her the simple comfort of a human touch. It seemed to work...until the next scream.

After 10 minutes, they arrived at the changeover where they had to go above ground to get to the shed tunnel that would take them back under the wall and out of the city. Dantes led them up from the wine cellar and cracked open the door to leave the cafe. He closed it again quickly when he heard a voice close by. The man’s voice was loud, though, and the group could hear him even with the door shut.

“All right, me laddies,” it said, “who wants to step up and try out the new points o’ my arrows? They’re not fire, but I’m told that they’ll light you up just as brightly.”

A chorus of growls answered his questioning.

“Well now, laddies,” the voice said, “I have to tell you that, while I can usually hold this bow a good long time, I’m a wee bit tired right now, what with all the fighting this morning, so I’m going to be asking you to decide who dies first a little more quickly than normal, if you’d be of such a mind.”

Lady Ellyn pushed past Dantes toward the door. “I’m out of spells,” Dantes said. “I won’t be able to help much, and we don’t know how many there are.”

“I care not,” replied Lady Ellyn. “I have listened to these beasts tear apart the people I’ve sworn to protect since the beginning of our journey. If I can help just one person on our way out of this godsforsaken city, I intend to.”

“M’lady, you know that I am also out of spells, correct?” asked Father Telenor.

“I do,” replied Lady Ellyn. “Can I still count on you to guard my off side?”

“Always, m’lady.”

“Then let us go,” she said. “For the gods of good!” She burst out of the door at a run, with Telenor close by her side. After a moment’s hesitation, the rest of the group followed.

John trailed the warriors around the corner of the nearest house, and found himself much closer to three large evil-looking creatures than he
ever
wanted to be. Dark green in color, they each stood over nine feet tall and had some sort of rubbery, moss-covered skin. The fetid stench coming from them threatened to overwhelm him.

“Trolls,” said Ghorza, coming to a halt. “I hate trolls.”

“I hate them too,” said Dantes. “Normally they’re a lot of fun to burn. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to do this the hard way, as I’m out of spells.”

Lady Ellyn hadn’t waited for the rest of the group, and as Ghorza and Dantes continued their advance, she charged up and sliced through the hamstrings of one of the trolls facing the other way. It crumpled, and she continued on to the next one.

The troll screamed in anger and frustration as it tried to get back up, but was unable. As John watched, the muscles that had been sliced off and left to dangle from the troll’s legs began to heal.

“Quickly,” said Dantes, “we have to kill it before it regenerates.”

The scream of the first troll caused the other two trolls to turn and face the new threat. That was all that the person trapped in the corner needed, and he launched an arrow dripping a black liquid. It hit the troll closest to him in the chest, and the wound began hissing. The troll screamed even more loudly than the first one.

“Can you do something that doesn’t make them scream so much?” asked Dantes as he and Ghorza threw oil onto the troll from bottles they pulled from their packs. “’Ware the arms!” he added to Ghorza. Nine feet tall, the troll had arms that were almost seven feet long, giving it a considerable reach as it continued to flip around.

Ghorza tried to light the oil, but one of the troll’s arms flicked out and slapped her down, stunned. Seeing the easy prey, Dantes was immediately forgotten by the troll as it pulled itself around toward the semi-conscious half-orc. “
Scintilla!
” John commanded, sending a spark onto the troll. The oil caught fire, and the troll was covered in flames. It began rolling around, trying to put them out. Ghorza was forgotten as the troll burned to death.

The third troll was trading blows with Lady Ellyn and Father Telenor. Although the troll could reach much further with its club than the humans’ weapons, it couldn’t attack and defend at the same time. Lady Ellyn was protected from the troll’s attacks by Father Telenor’s shield, though, and she was able to make attacks of her own nearly unhampered. It didn’t come without cost; the troll’s attacks were far stronger than those of a human, and Telenor’s shield was soon shattered. “Can’t hold...much longer, m’lady,” advised Father Telenor. “I’m down to almost splinters as it is.”

With a massive swipe that the two humans barely ducked under, the troll caught the shield’s iron edge on its club, and it flew out of Telenor’s grasp. The troll roared in satisfaction as the shield went spiraling through the air.

As the troll celebrated, Lady Ellyn dove forward in a half-roll. She used the momentum of the dive to stand up underneath the troll, and she stabbed upward, transfixing the troll on her blade. The troll’s roar turned into a scream of pain, which ended suddenly as an arrow flew up into its mouth, piercing its brain. The tip of the arrow burst forth from the top of its head and a loud hissing sound could be heard as the acid ate into its skull. The troll toppled to the ground, seemingly in slow motion.

All of the humanoids turned to the last troll, which had the arrow in its chest. It hadn’t attacked further, as a large brown owl was harassing it, fluttering in and out of its reach. Any time the troll tried to attack the archer, the owl would swoop in and claw the troll’s eyes, momentarily blinding it.

The archer whistled, and the owl flew up out of the way. The troll reached up to grab it, leaving itself undefended, and another arrow sprouted from its chest. This one found its heart, and the troll’s attacks began to slow. With a groan, it swung one more time at the owl, and then it collapsed to the ground. The owl returned to alight on the archer’s shoulder, nuzzling his cheek and then preening a wing.

“Many thanks, me lords and ladies,” the archer said, flourishing his hat. John could see that the humanoid was even smaller than he first thought; without the large hat, the archer was barely three and a half feet tall. John thought that the creature looked similar to the fire gnome he had met earlier in the week, with pointed ears and angular facial features, but where Vishdink had been red and gray, the archer was light brown like the trunk of a tree. Complementing this color, the archer had tufts of forest green hair sticking out all over the top of his head, which he quickly covered back up with his hat. The eyes that faced the group were solid black.

“You’re welcome,” said Dantes, helping Ghorza to her feet. “However, those things were far too loud. We need to leave,
now
.” He turned toward the shed.

“Wait!” said the archer. “Do you hear that?”

Dantes listened but didn’t hear anything other than the sound of combat in the distance. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Aye, laddie, that’s just what I was sayin’,” replied the archer. “While we were tusslin’ with the beasties, I heard the braying o’ worgs.” The tracking abilities of the oversized evil wolves were legendary.

“I don’t hear them now,” replied Dantes.

“Aye, and that’s what’s worrying me,” agreed the archer. “If they’ve gone quiet, they’ve got the scent.” He held up his head and sniffed the air. “They’re here,” he said. “
Run!
”

The sounds of running feet and the booming of drums calling the evil creatures to battle could be heard from the street in front of the cafe. The group ran toward the shed and went through the door.

As they started climbing down into the tunnel, a shout rang out from the yard. The door had been left open in their haste, and they had been spotted. “Climb faster,” Dantes urged. “Go, go, go!” Spurred on by the shout, the rest of the group hurried past him and down the ladder. The last member of the group went down the ladder as the first orc entered the shed. Seeing that everyone else was clear, Dantes dove into the ladder well and fell to the floor of the tunnel 10 feet below. Picking himself up, he ran forward and grabbed the end of a rope hanging 15 feet further into the tunnel. He pulled with all of his infernal might, and ripped out the key stones holding the tunnel’s roof in place. The tunnel collapsed behind them, sealing off their enemies as the first orc started down the ladder.

Dantes turned around to find everyone staring at him. “Didn’t that hurt?” asked John.

“Yes, quite a bit,” Dantes replied as dust trickled down all around him. “But it will buy us a little bit of time. Come on; we need to hurry.”

“They escaped into some tunnels and then destroyed the entrance,” reported the troll scout in its deep voice. “We have troops opening it up, but it will be some time.”

“They are beginning to get on my nerves,” Solim said. He motioned for the troll to return to his duties and turned to his brother. “Did you learn anything from them before their escape?”

“Yes, Solim. Before she passed out, the Magistra sent them on some sort of quest. She was barely coherent, but she said that they needed to go to the Mountain of Frost for some sort of end-of-the-world prophecy.”

“By the nameless
god
!” Solim swore.

“What is it?” asked Rubic. He had seen his brother get mad many times before, but couldn’t remember ever hearing that level of vehemence.

“This is
exactly
the reason I have been trying to kill them,” replied Solim.

He stomped over to a suit of armor and kicked it. It fell over with a tremendous crash that brought the rest of the room to silence. “No,” he said in a quiet fury that Rubic had to strain to hear. “The Prophecy is
mine
to claim! I will
not
let them take it from me!” Solim kicked the suit’s helmet, sending it flying through the air. It clattered to the floor on the other side of the room. A troll picked it up and looked at it curiously before smashing it flat. Solim glared at the leaders that had stopped what they were doing to watch. All of them found something better to do than meet his gaze.

Solim returned to the throne, now totally focused; his anger tempered into purpose. He glared at Rubic, who shrank from the malignance of his gaze. “It looks like you will get a second chance to kill them,” he said. “They will be fleeing. Take a squad of orc trackers and go outside the city walls. Track them down and kill them. Bring me back their heads...or don’t come back at all.”

“I think we should probably stop and decide what we are going to do,” said Lady Ellyn as the group came to a small clearing. They had been following the short archer through the woodlands for over an hour since escaping the city, as he seemed to know where he was going. Lady Ellyn nodded to the newest member of the group. “Why don’t you start by telling us who you are, and how you came to be fighting the trolls.”

“Aye, it’s pleased I am that you came along when you did,” replied the archer. “The name’s Fitzber, Captain Fitzber if you must, o’ the Earthen Gnome Rangers.” He performed the flourish with his hat again. “I am at your service.” He paused for a few moments. “Where to begin...where to begin...aye, at the beginning I s’pose. I was in charge o’ a group of rangers that was sent to the frontier to watch the border with Carpos. We knew they were coming, but didn’t know when or where. All o’ a sudden, they were upon us. They used goblin sappers to tunnel under our lines. We were quickly overrun when they burst forth from the ground behind our defenses. I sent all o’ my men to try and get the word back to Norlon, while I scouted behind their lines to find out what they were all about.” He shook his head. “I wish I hadn’t; the memories o’ that time will be givin’ me nightmares for the rest o’ me life.”

“Why is that?” asked Lady Ellyn.

“I saw their command element,” replied Fitzber, “and I knew the lads back at Norlon would be in trouble. Their troops were led by some sort o’ anti-paladin, astride a nightmare as dark as a witch’s heart. Every time it snorted, smoke came from its nostrils. As dark as its steed was, the anti-paladin was even blacker. He seemed to absorb all o’ the light around him, making it hard to see him in the darkness. He was hard to look at; he was evil personified.” He shuddered at the recollection.

“What did he look like?” asked Lady Ellyn, her voice empty of emotion.

“He was a big human,” replied Fitzber. “He had to be nearly seven feet tall, with armor black as the inside o’ a cave in an eclipse. He was totally black; even his helmet was black...all except for his blood red hands. At first I thought it was the blood o’ his foes still on him, but then I saw that his gauntlets had been painted red.”

“He does that to terrorize his enemies,” Lady Ellyn said. “When he pulls the hearts out of his enemies and holds them up, it makes them look bigger and him more ferocious by comparison.”

“Oh, so you be knowin’ that one, then?” asked the ranger.

“Aye, I do,” replied Lady Ellyn. “It is worse than we thought. That man is the Dark Lord Kazan. No wonder he didn’t show himself during the attack on Norlon; he would have wanted all of the paladins dead before he revealed himself, so that we couldn’t try to guess what he would do.”

“You said, ‘worse than we thought,’” interrupted Dantes. “Why did you think it was bad to start with?”

“I was at the battle fought before the gates of Norlon,” answered Lady Ellyn. “I saw the person I
thought
was leading their armies. There was a halfling riding on the shoulders of one of the leading giants...and he was wearing the queen’s crown. That was bad enough.”

“What is so special about the crown?” asked John. “I mean, I saw it, and it was pretty, but it’s just a crown, right?”

“No,” replied Lady Ellyn, “it’s much more than a crown. It’s a magical artifact. In fact, it’s one of the three artifacts that will be brought together at the end of the world. It’s all part of the Prophecy.”

“The Prophecy?” asked Dantes. “The Magistra said something about a prophecy. What do you know about this prophecy?”

“I don’t know a lot about it,” she replied. “No one knows much about it for sure, as most of the details were lost after the Sundering. What knowledge remains didn’t make much sense until recently. The one piece of information we have is a scrap of parchment that remains from before the Sundering. It says that at the end of times, a man will come from another world, he will gather the Three Items of Power and then...something will happen.” She stopped.

“Something will happen?” asked Dantes. “Could you be any vaguer? What is supposed to happen? What kind of Prophecy is that?”

“No one knows,” said Lady Ellyn with a shrug. “The parchment is torn at that point. It is hoped that this person will come and save the world from the darkness that is approaching. Half the people believe this. There are, however, cynics that perpetuate a rumor that the conclusion of the sentence is that the one that comes from another world will gather the items and thrust the world into a pit of darkness, from which it will never recover.”

“What do you believe?” asked John. He tried to keep the quaver out of his voice, but wasn’t entirely successful.

“Me?” asked Lady Ellyn. “I don’t believe that either of these endings are what was originally intended, as the one true god would never preordain our lives for us. What would be the point if everything happened according to destiny and not free will? The point of living
is
the constant striving. Without free will, there is no good or evil. We can only achieve purity through struggle; it cannot be given.” She looked intently at John. “You asked what I believe, and I will tell you. I believe that it is up to us. Whether this world rises or falls is dependent solely on our actions.”

“Great,” grumbled Father Telenor. “No pressure there.”