Fall of the Western Kings (Tirumfall Trilogy Book 1) (28 page)

Night thickened and still Jarlz forced his eyes to stay open. The others slept. Jarlz watched them toss fitfully. He wondered what dreams troubled them. The innkeeper snored from time to time, and then he’d start at something and roll over.

Once the stranger gave an outburst of strange verse. Jarlz thought it was the language of magic, but it was too garbled to tell.

Eventually Jarlz’s eyelids flickered closed. His head nodded forward, his chin resting on his chest. Reflex snapped his head back as he fought to stay awake. The night can’t last much longer, he told himself, and tried to force his exhausted mind alert. His head bobbed forward again, and once more he fought off sleep.

Suddenly he was wide awake. The rattle of small stones dislodged by heavy feet brought him to a crouch. It was close.  His ears strained to catch any sound. Pebbles rattled behind him, and more not far to his left.

Quickly Jarlz slithered to the others, shaking each, whispering for them to get up. Slowly each rose to a crouch with whatever weapon they had. The darkness closed in. They saw nothing, but the noise of crunching gravel left no doubt. They were surrounded.

Chapter 40

G
ant kept a firm grip on his reluctant guide knowing that if the elf got loose he could easily outrun Gant.  They exited the arena, turned left and followed the tunnel past two side branches until it dead ended at a cross tunnel.  The elf went right without hesitation, Gant hanging on to him.  They ascended a set of stairs, went right around a corner and down a short hall to another set of stairs.  Gant remembered these stairs.  Maybe.

At
the
top
was
a double
set
of
narrow
doors.
 
If
Gant
was
right there
would
be
two
guards
on
the
other
side.  The
elf
opened
the
door
and
stepped
through,
Gant
at
his heels.
 
There
were
no
guards where he’d expected them.
 
Gant
pulled
the
elf
up
short. 

“Where are
the
guards
that
were
here
before?”

“How
should
I know?
 
The
Queen
sets
the
guard
as
she
wishes and
she
doesn’t
consult
me.”

Gant
pushed
his
sword
point
into
the
elf's
skin
until
a drop of
blood
oozed
out.

“Killing me
won’t
help.”

Gant pushed him forward.  Several more turns, another set of stairs and they ended up on a broad landing that branched into half a dozen passages.  From the passage on the far right three elf soldiers emerged, saw Gant, and stopped.
 
There
was
a brief
outburst in
elfish, and then
all
three
drew
their
short
swords.
 
The
tallest stepped
forward.

“You, take your
sword
from
the
elf.”

Gant considered the
three
elves and what might happen if he let his
prisoner
go. “Take us to Lord Barkmar’s quarters,” he said.

A buzz
of
elfish.
 
Gant’s
captive
tried
to
pull
free.  Gant
jerked
him
back.

The tallest elf soldier waved his sword at Gant. “Let him go.”

“Okay. Keep
your
swords
on
me,
but
take
me
to
Lord Barkmar.”

More
elfin discussion and then, “Follow us.”

The tallest elf led off, Gant and his prisoner right behind him. The other two
elves
fell in behind.
 
Within a few minutes the whole nervous procession stopped at a door.  The lead elf knocked and Forest Lord Barkmar answered.

“Gant,
come
in,”
he
said,
stepping
back
to
let
Gant
inside.
“What’s
this
all
about?”

The elf soldiers shuffled sheepishly.  Gant shoved his prisoner into Barkmar’s living room.
 
Abadis
and
Uric
were there sitting around
a table,
half
empty
glasses
in
front
of
them.
 
Lord Barkmar said something to the soldiers in elfish and they left.  Lord Barkmar shut the door and
Gant
related
his story.

“I’m
afraid
you’ve
met
members
of
the
Watchers
For
Darkness. Fanatics
who
pray
for
Varg’s
return.
 
They
wanted
to
take Valorius,”
said
the
Forest
Lord.

“What
about
this
one?”
asked
Gant,
nodding
to
his
prisoner.

“Let
the
authorities
take
care
of
him.
 
We’ve
been
called
to the
War
Hall.
 
The
Queen
is
waiting.”

Gant turned his prisoner over to other soldiers and then Lord Barkmar led them to the War Hall.  On the way Gant and Lord Barkmar
were
joined
by
other
elves
and
soon
had quite
a procession.
 
The group
entered
the
War
Hall
through a pair of massive, ornate doors that stood open.  It was a huge circular, domed room with a raised central section.  A large
table
sat in the middle of the platform.
 
There
were
so
many
elves
clustered around
that
Gant
could not actually see what was on the table.

Gant followed Lord Barkmar across the wide expanse of open floor at the back of the room and approached the raised section.
 
As
they
approached,
Gant
caught
a glimpse
of
the elf
queen.
 
She
stood
near
the
middle
of
the
table,
surrounded
by elves
in
military
uniform.
 
She
spoke
first
with
one,
then another,
always
gesturing
toward
the
table.
 
Her
dark
pointed
ears swept
up
past
black
hair
that
was
pulled
back
into
a single braid
that
coiled
around
her
neck
and
looped
over
her
left shoulder
until
it
hung
down
over
a small,
silvery,
rune-encrusted breastplate.
 
In
her
right
hand
she
held
a short,
black
stone scepter.
 
Her
eyes
were
narrow
cold
slits
close
together around a thin,
angular
nose.
 
Her
lips
were
thin
and blacker
even
than
her
hair.
 
There
was
no
hint
of
warmth
in
her stare.
 
Yet
in
her
iciness
was
a pure
beauty
like
that
of
great sculptures.

In attendance on the main floor were a host of elves dressed in fine cloaks, breeches and shirts.  Like peacocks showing off, most wore gaudy gold
and
silver
jewelry.
 
The
glitter
of
gems sparkled
from
luxurious
pendants.  So this was
elf
nobility, thought Gant.

Lord Barkmar led them up onto the platform to join the huddled council.  Finally Gant could see the huge tapestry
draped
over the
table.
 
The
cloth
was
a masterfully
sewn
map
of
the
world with little
metal
figures and intricately
carved
miniatures of cities and towns placed on it.

“Here
is
Barlon’s
main
force,”
said
the
Elf
Queen,
pointing with
the
scepter
to
the carved miniature
Pogor.
 
“New recruits
swell
his
battalions
daily
as
the
scum
of
our
time
rally to
his
promise
of
easy
spoils
and
plunder.”

She
continued,
“In addition he
has
garrisons
here,
here
and here,”
she
pointed
to
the
outpost
at
Bal,
Barlon’s
Mountain Castle,
and
Netherdorf.
 
“He
controls all three Western Kingdoms, thanks to the idiot farmers in Dernium and the evil priests in Scaltzland, and he has a foothold this side of the Monoliths.  We expect Blasseldune will be his next target, and then the Eastern Empire.  We do not know
how
soon
he
plans
to
attack.
 
We
must
see
that
his troops
do
not
get
through
Chamber
Pass. Our
main
force
will
travel
through
the
wilderness
to
the Pass.
 
If
they arrive
in
time,
we'll
fortify
the
ridges,
trap
the pass
and
the
plains
before
it,
and
ambush
his
forces
when
they arrive.”

“What
about
his
forces
at Netherdorf Castle?
 
They’ll
be
at our
backs,”
said
an elf
near
the
front
of
the
throng on the main floor.