Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) (3 page)

BOOK: Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron)
6.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Chapter Four

 

 

Bran walked along the pass.  Lanterns had been lit an hour ago as the sun slid down behind the mountain.  He heard the mutterings of the men around him and could understand their astonishment.  He felt the same way.  For so long, the ogres had been their enemies; now one walked just at his back.  Mardak had asked to come along when Bran decided to check on Dain.  Bran granted his request.  Now they both walked among the men; some helping the wounded, some cooking, some repairing gear, most just sitting, staring at nothing.

Bran knew the grief that gripped the hearts of th
ese men.  He had lost twelve of his own.  This battle had been so overwhelming that the wounded were surprisingly few.  There had been few Dain could save.  Bran suddenly realized that Mardak was no longer right behind him.  So lost in thought was he that he failed to realize the absence of Mardak’s heavy footsteps.  He looked back and saw the massive ogre down on one knee. He was beside a man who was working furiously to staunch the flow of blood from a ragged belly wound on one of his fellows, who was obviously in agony.  Bran saw Mardak hand the man a small pouch and give instructions in a low voice.  The man nodded and immediately opened the pouch and looked in then looked back at Mardak.  Bran saw Mardak smile and nod, then pat the man gently on the shoulder as he rose.

Mardak
walked over to Bran.  At Bran’s questioning look, he explained.  "I gave your surgeon an ointment to use on those more severely wounded.  It will slow their heart rates and take away their pain.  They will sleep peacefully.  It has a healing property that will help a little, but I fear wounds such as that man’s are beyond its abilities.  The ointment will give him relief and make his last hours more tolerable.  No one should have to suffer the pain of such a wound before passing.  If it wasn’t for helping me, then maybe Dain could have saved that one."

Bran saw genuine sorrow in the ogre’s big black eyes.  He
studied Mardak’s face for a few moments.  "You are not to blame.  You did not inflict this wound.  In war, men die.  It does not matter what we wish to be, but what is.  We, none of us, can save them all.  Dain has done his part.  By healing you, he has brought you and your men to us as allies.  By that act, he may have saved the lives of countless others."

Mardak
looked down on the small dwarf before him.  He smiled as if seeing Bran for the first time.  "Wise words, Axethane, however words alone do not heal the heart; though I take your meaning and agree.  Come.  Let us go check on Dain.  My heart will lighten knowing he is well."

Bran nodded, turned
, and started walking again.  Pace would have taken Dain to the rear, as far from the mouth of the pass as he could.  They came to a place where the pass opened enough to setup a few small tents.  Bran headed for the small gray one.  He recognized it as dwarven, not only because of its stone color, but by its rounded shape, a vastly different style than the peaked roof, hide and canvas tents of the humans. By the presence of Pace standing guard outside the small tent, Bran knew Dain to be within.

Pace nodded to Bran as he came up to the tent.  He looked up at
Mardak as the big ogre went to one knee so as not to tower over the smaller dwarves.

"
How is he?"  Bran inquired.

"
Resting, Axethane.  He was so exhausted that he didn’t even stir when I set him down to setup the tent or when I moved him inside.  I've checked on him a number of times.  He has not yet moved."

"
Let the lad rest then.  We only came to check on him.  Karg and his men are watching the mouth of the pass along with Captain Hamil and some of his archers.  They have reported no movement out in the marsh.  Why don’t you get some rest?  I’ll watch over Dain for a bit."

Pace smiled and Bran saw his shoulders slump
slightly.  It had been a hard morning for all of them.  "Thank you, Axethane.  I could use a bite to eat."

"
Go on then.  I’ll get Captain Kallen to assign someone to watch over Dain until you've had some rest," Bran assured him.

After Pace set off to find the nearest cooking fire, Bran sat down next to the tent opening.  He let out a small sigh of pleasure at being able to get off his feet.  They had fought for many hours and the forced retreat into the pass had taken an
other hour.  Then he had to see to his men, what was left of them.  It was nearly suppertime now.  The sounds his stomach was making reminded him that he had not eaten since about this time yesterday.  As hungry as he was, Bran thought he would give up food for the next week for a dip in a nice cool mountain lake right about now.  The heat in these lower lands was taxing and made him feel grimy all the time.

Mardak
studied Bran as he sat in front of the tent.  He seated himself facing the dwarf and crossed his legs.  "So Axethane Bran, tell me about Dain."

Bran
opened his eyes and peered up.  "What is it you would like to hear?"

"
Anything that would give me insight into why he would go through what he did to help one of my kind."

Bran sighed again and sat forward
with his elbows on his knees.  "Dain is unlike most of our race.  His father is a Forger, and his mother is a Delver.  To say it is uncommon for such a union to take place would be an understatement."

"
The Forgers are your warriors are they not?"  Mardak inquired.

"
Aye.  We are the warriors and smiths of our people.  The Delvers are the stone crafters among us.  From them also come the healers.  The two clans hardly ever intermarry.  Dain is from such a union.  He was attached to a group guarding one of the passes into our land when I met him."

"
Is he not young for one of your race to be in a fighting unit?"

"
Aye, but not by much.  Most of us start out when we are not much older than he is now, as apprentices to a unit of soldiers.  We spend time as messengers and cooks' helpers.  We learn to tend arms and armor and then how to wield those arms.  If we display an aptitude for repairing things, we generally are then apprenticed to a smith so we can learn the craft of forging.  If we are better with wielding than repairing, then we are trained in fighting.  Dain was a cook’s aid when I met him.  He brought me a bowl of soup and then just stared at me."  Bran laughed lightly, remembering the awed look on Dain’s face.  "He told me I glowed."

"
Ah, the boy can see auras then.  That explains much," Mardak nodded knowingly.

"
How so?"  Bran asked.

"
Since he can see the aura of men, he can know what they are feeling and what is in their hearts.  He knew we came to help and were no threat to you.  He could read it in Karg’s and my auras.  That explains why he trusted me enough to approach.  He is a rare one, your Dain."

"
Aye.  That he is.  He has saved us more times than I care to count.  There isn't a man among my unit who would not give his life to protect Dain.  After this morning, I’ll wager a good many of Commander Salic’s men feel the same."

"
I’d not take that bet.  I can assure you they do, for I feel the same way."  Mardak chuckled.  "By the look on my brother’s face upon seeing me as I am now, I would wager he would take on a great wurm barehanded if it threatened Dain."

"
I’d not take that bet either," Bran said eyeing the big ogre.

Mardak
laughed at Bran turning his own statement back on him.

Bran was sitting with his head tilted back and his eyes closed when he heard a rustle from inside the tent behind him.  He heard the faint chink of chain mail and then
opened his eyes to see Dain pull back the flap on the tent.  Dark circles under the boy’s eyes spoke to his fatigue.

"
You should rest more, Dain.  The wounded are being tended," Bran told him.

"
There is one that requires me, Axethane," Dain stated as he walked from the tent and headed toward the area where the wounded were being treated.

Bran was immediately on his feet as was
Mardak.  They followed behind the young dwarf, watching him as he tried to smooth out the gray healers tunic he wore over his armor.  There wasn’t much gray left to it.  Most of it was stained an ugly dark brown from the blood that had dried on it from all the wounded Dain had healed during the battle.

"
Axethane, why does he think he is needed by one of them?"  Mardak asked, gesturing to the many wounded laying in neat rows on the canyon floor.

"
I couldn't even begin to answer that, Master Mardak.  I only know that he senses when he is needed," Bran told him with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

"
It's Shaman, Axethane," Mardak replied.

"
What’s that?"

"
If you choose to address me by title, then it is Shaman Mardak, not Master, but Mardak will do.  We ogres rarely use titles, except in the case of the Chieftain."

"
You are Shaman for your tribe?"

Bran saw a wide smile spread over
Mardak’s face.

"
Aye.  Our father would have been very proud.  One of his sons now leads our tribe as well as several others.  Karg is a mighty warrior and a great leader.  He has joined fourteen tribes under one command.  Additionally, I have been given the gift of the Great One's Touch. Though he knew I would one day be Shaman, my father never would have dared to guess that Karg would be a Chieftain."

"
I apologize, I do not know much about your culture.  From what I do know, is it not unusual for multiple tribes to come together under one leader?"  Bran asked.

"
No apology needed, Axethane.  I would not expect an outsider to know much of our ways.  To answer your question, yes.  Such a thing as Karg has done has never before been accomplished.  It is not unheard of for one tribe to take over another through war, but to bring so many together without war has never happened."

"
How did he bring about such a thing?"

Mardak smiled again.

"He talked to them.  Unlikely as it sounds, he traveled around just talking to our people.  He found that most thought as he did, that we should not be making war on the other races solely for the benefit of one man, and a human man at that."

"
Not all thought that way," Bran spat angrily.  "We were attacked by a large group of your people at West Gate.  Mortow has obviously persuaded some of your kind to his side.  They killed many dwarves before we were able to route and slay them as they fled."

"
It is as you say.  My people are war-like," Mardak said with a shrug of his massive shoulders.  "But then, there are always those ready to fight no matter what race they be.  With all of the trolls now following Mortow, for the first time, my race was without war.  Peace weighs heavily on those who have never known anything except war.  It doesn't surprise me that some would join him merely for the glory of war.  We are here for the same thing.  The only difference is that we fight so our people will be free.  We fight against Mortow because we know all he will offer us are the chains of tyranny."

Bran and Mardak stopped as Dain came to the same man Mardak had stopped at earlier and knelt down beside him.  His breathing was very shallow and his face was extremely pale.  Mardak gestured to the man lying on the ground.

"
If I had not felt for myself what Dain is capable of, I would say this man is beyond a healer’s ability.  Now, I am not so sure."

I
t was Bran’s turn to smile.  "If there is breath left in the man, Dain can heal him.  I have seen wounds much worse than this, disappear under his hands."

Bran and Mardak fell silent as Dain laid his left hand on the man’s stomach and right hand on his chest.  They saw Dain bow his head.  A few seconds later, Dain’s entire body went rigid
, and he sucked in a breath with a gasp.  The unconscious man’s body convulsed under his hands and Dain’s slight frame shook as they saw his lips pull back to reveal clenched teeth.  Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, they saw the gaping wound draw together and close. The man’s body relaxed and his breathing returned to normal.  Dain rocked back onto his heels and rose shakily to his feet.  He walked toward Bran and Mardak, stumbled, and nearly fell.

Mardak took a quick stride forward and easily picked Dain up with one hand.  He sat Dain down
in the crook of his left arm.  "Easy young healer, you must rest more if you are to help these men.  Driving yourself to exhaustion will gain them nothing.  Only healthy and rested can you do your job properly."  Mardak dug into a pouch on his right side and pulled out a few items.  He separated them in his palm with a finger on his left hand.  "See the gray leaf, young healer?"

Dain looked blearily at the items displayed on the big ogre
’s palm.  There were several different kinds of leaves as well as what looked to be roots.  They appeared so tiny in the massive hand that they almost looked unreal.  Dain nodded his head as he looked up at Mardak.

"
See the red colored root right beside it?  Take them both.  Put the leaf in your mouth and then bite off a small piece of the root.  Chew them together until they are smooth.  Once they're mixed completely, you will taste a sour apple flavor.  Only after you taste the apple do you swallow them."

BOOK: Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron)
6.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Silvertongue by Charlie Fletcher
The Ladies Farm by Viqui Litman
PursuedbythePrisoner by Ann Mayburn
Miracle by Connie Willis
Hollow World by Nick Pobursky
Revue by K.M. Golland
Memphis Heat 1 Stakeout by Marteeka Karland and Shelby Morgen