Sword of Light (The Knights of the Golden Dragons - Book One) (27 page)

           
“He
is headed into a trap, Mistress Mithrina, and we must find a way to stop him
before he reaches the Forsaken Mountains.” Gregor made no effort to hide his
concern for his mentor. “Lord Silverwing does not know the full power of the
threat he rushes to face.”

           
“Do
not underestimate the strength of your mentor, young knight. He is
knowledgeable and wise in years of training and study. There is little that he
could encounter and be unprepared to face. He will do what he is called to do,
as will the others with him, with little concern for the sacrifices that are
demanded.” Mithrina's words demonstrated her faith in the warrior knight even
as Lord Silverwing drew closer to his fate.

           
“Mistress
Mithrina, you do not understand. He is being drawn toward an enemy that is
beyond his abilities. The blade I bear is the key to the defeat of Father
Tur'morival, and without it Lord Silverwing will be slain. We must get word to
him before it is too late!” Gregor's voice rose with each word he uttered until
he was nearly shouting.

           
Mistress
Mithrina seemed unaffected by the outburst, and maintained her calm bearing.
“Accept his fate as he has, Lord Lightsword. We all commit our souls to the
higher powers we serve. This is our calling. If he is to join the God of Light,
Lord Silverwing will do so, and gladly, in service to his God. Do not belittle
his role in a misplaced effort to save him. You will do what you are called to
do, and so will he. “

           
Gregor
lowered his voice, bowing his head in reverence to the druid before him as if
to the God of Light he served. “Yes, Mistress Mithrina, God's will be
done.
 
How best am I to serve?”

           
“You
will lead the remaining forces assembled in the near lands into the mountains,
following the path taken by Lord Silverwing. Tana should be able to track him
readily enough. If his enemy is drawing Lord Silverwing to him as you assume,
you should have little difficulty in finding the evil that taints our world.
The rangers and druids still patrolling the wild lands can be quickly recalled
to join you. In a matter of a few days, you should be ready to go.” Mistress
Mithrina cast her eyes over Gregor's shoulder as movement at the young knight's
back caught her attention. “Yes?”

           
Boremac
appeared at Gregor's side, his face full of concern as he addressed the druid.
“Begging your pardon, mistress, but I do not see the wisdom of sending in all
the remaining protectors of the wood. The time we would lose in assembling the
group would just give the advantage to the one we seek, by my way of thinking,
and it seems he has advantage enough as it is. A small group of us would gain
the element of surprise, and have a much better chance of getting in to Father
Tur'morival's stronghold than an army of wood-keepers, no offense intended.
They would see us coming from days away and the loss of good men and women
could not justify the risk.”

           
Mistress
Mithrina cocked an eyebrow at the bold rogue's words. “What exactly do you
propose, rogue?”

           
Boremac
grinned at the measure she had taken of him. The druid did not mince words.
“Well, Father Tur'morival has gone to great efforts to ensure that Master
Gregor is brought before him, so we do not want to disappoint him. The priest
obviously needs the young knight alive for some purpose, or the assassins from
whom we rescued him would have killed him. My dealings with the killers of the
Black Hand, though minimal, have demonstrated their skills in the arts of death
and shadow. They are rarely called upon to capture anyone they can kill.”

           
Mistress
Mithrina considered the rogue's words for a few moments before replying.
 
“I see some wisdom in your words. Who do you
choose to accompany the young knight into the Forsaken Mountains?”

           
“I
think the path should be clear since Lord Silverwing passed through the lands
just a few days before us. The priest that has set the path before Lord
Silverwing, this Father Tur'morival, would have placed only enough obstacles in
his way to make him unaware of the trap that was laid. The huntress, Tana,
would come as a tracker, and Mistress Sephia should accompany us as well to
scout the lands ahead of us. This would ensure we do not alarm our target
before we make his stronghold. The mountain man, Dramor, would be invaluable
once we travel deep into the Forsaken Mountains, though I fear he would have
trouble sneaking up on a blind, deaf man that was asleep.” Boremac's last words
brought an angry grunt from Dramor, but the mountain man could not deny the
truth of it, and quietly grumbled to himself. “Still, his knowledge of the
mountains would make him worth the risk. I will complete the group and educate
the unwieldy in the art of moving unseen.”

           
The
leader of the druids nodded her approval. “If Lord Lightsword has no complaint,
we will go ahead with your plan. I will obtain horses for the chosen, and you
may leave at nightfall. The horses can speed you as far as the lower mountains,
and perhaps you can overtake Lord Silverwing. Does this please you, Lord
Lightsword?”

           
“I
can find no error with the rogue's reasoning, and a smaller force should move
more quickly.” Gregor held little hope that they would catch Lord Silverwing
before he faced Father Tur'morival. “You may know, Mistress Mithrina, that if
Lord Silverwing's spirit departs his body, we cannot bring him back into this
world without violating the code of the Knights of the Golden Dragon.”

           
“Yes,
Lord Lightsword, I am aware of the code you are bound by honor to keep. There
is nothing I can do except pray that he is not sacrificed.” She lowered her
head as if entering into prayer at that moment. “Have faith in the powers we
serve, Gregor, and know they have not forsaken us.”

           
Gregor
spent the remainder of the day making sure everyone carried enough supplies to
take them to the Forsaken Mountains with a minimal amount of unnecessary
weight. As the sun began to lower behind the trees, the small group he would
lead gathered to discuss the journey. Tana was engaged in a heated exchange
with Fang, and though Gregor could only understand the words Tana spoke, it was
easy to interpret the growling that served as Fang's reply.

           
“You
will remain here and I will hear no more of it!” Fang's snarl indicated her
displeasure at leaving her companion's side. “Don't use that language with me.
I will not have you eaten, or worse, because of misplaced concern for me. You
know that I can take care of myself.” Fang raised her hackles as she barked out
a rapid reply. “Don't bring that up again. Ancient history, pup, and I could
have taken them without your help. There were only four, and they only stunned
me momentarily.”
 
Fang lowered her tail
and turned away from Tana, obviously done with the discussion. “Turn away from
me? Get yourself to the woods and guide the wolves here. I need you to protect
those who remain.” Tana crossed her arms across her breast, watching as Fang
lowered her head and slunk out of the glade. “Damn animal!”

           
“Yeah,
the wolf's head is as thick as her mistress', it would appear.” Boremac's snide
grin disappeared as Tana turned on him with burning eyes.

           
Tana
pointed her blade at the rogue before speaking. “Watch your tongue, thief, or
lose it.”

           
Gregor
shouted at the pair a little louder than he intended. “Enough! We serve the
same purpose and it's time you all start acting like it! No one has been
pressed into this company, and the paths that have brought us together were not
of our own making. If anyone doubts the cause that brings us together, leave
now before you jeopardize the others later.
 
Faith will only carry us so far. Unity must take us the rest of the
way.”

           
“Well
spoken, Lord Lightsword.” Mistress Mithrina's words turned Gregor away from the
arguing pair. He bowed slightly in welcome to the leader of the grove. The
druid nodded in reply and held out a small vial filled with cloudy liquid.
“Take this draught. I pray you have no use for it. The liquid is a potent
restorative that should only be used in the most desperate circumstances. It
will heal even the direst wounds, though the imbiber will sleep deeply for some
time. Should your own powers of healing fail, this will not.” She turned to
face the horses that were waiting for the group. “These animals will take you
as far as they can and will return to me once you have released them. Go with
haste and know the Goddess and God travel with you.”

           
“Thank
you, Mistress Mithrina, for everything. I have faith we will overcome the evil
in the Forsaken Mountains, but I do not know what will become of the demon
bloods and tainted creatures once the deed is done. There are many priests in
service to Father Tur'morival scattered throughout the lands, and they wield
terrible power in their own right.”

           
“The
others will be dealt with.” The finality of Mistress Mithrina's words left no
doubt in Gregor's mind that they would.

16

Fire and Fury

           
Lord
Silverwing stood near one of the stone homes at a mining village, quietly
talking to the miners. It had been three days since the remainder of his group
had buried their fallen kinsmen and women. The rangers and druids that followed
him had moved rapidly toward the Forsaken Mountains, intent on their purpose.
Food and water grew scarcer as they traveled into the higher elevations, and
the kindness of the miners had been essential as the group moved forward. Lord
Silverwing thanked the mountain men for their information and supplies, and
went to join Fasurel. Master Stonecutter was gathering news concerning the
mines in the hands of the orcs.

           
Fasurel
was scratching his head, clearly perplexed by what he heard from the scouts. “I
don' get it an' I cannot say I much care
fer
it.
 
Lookin
' like the
orcs done abandoned the mines all at one time.”

           
Lord
Silverwing paused to consider Fasurel's words. “That is strange after all the
efforts they made to secure them. “

           
“They
still
guardin
' one road at the way up. Not many even
there, though.
Shouldn
' take much
ta
make the entrance wit' even the few o' us we '
ave.
”
Fasurel tightened his grip at his double-bladed axe, ready to destroy more orcs
and demon bloods.

           
“How
long will it take to reach the mine, Fasurel?”

           
Fasurel
scratched at his beard, forsaking his puzzled head for a moment. “No more '
an a
day the way we been
goin
'.
Could match arms wit' the bastards by nightfall
if'n
we push.”

           
“Better
we push forward, then. We can camp in the mines, if we need to, and move
through to the far side by nightfall tomorrow with some luck. The sooner we
find out where all the ore and orcs have been going, the better I will feel.
Finish gathering our supplies and I will gather the others. Night comes
quickly.” Fasurel shouted to some of the mountain men milling around the
village as Lord Silverwing began to gather the last of their party.

***

           
The
archers stood on a ledge overlooking the mine's entrance several hours later,
arrows nocked and easily tracking the movements of the scattered orcs in the
camp.
 
The large bonfire at the center of
the camp had served as a beacon in the night, allowing the rangers and Lord
Silverwing to find the best position from which to attack them at range.
Fasurel positioned the remaining warriors that preferred melee to a place
opposite the archer's location, allowing for rapid engagement of any remaining
enemies once the bowmen fired. Lord Silvering tracked the one demon blood that
moved through the camp, as it snapped orders to its orc brethren. The small
number of creatures assembled troubled the knight. He had not forgotten the
lesson learned when the two leaders assaulted the demon blooded orcs'
encampment, allowing half the number that followed him to be slain. “We need to
fire as one. These orcs have shields and weapons. They will not go down without
a fight, and we need to thin as many as possible before Master Stonecutter
charges. If you cannot take your target in the head, take them in the chest. Do
not leave this spot without my call. I need you pouring arrows into their
numbers.” The rangers nodded their understanding, their eyes never leaving
their targets, and waited for their leader's call to fire.

           
“Now!”
The knight's word was little more than a whisper, but it was enough, and angry
shafts appeared in the orcs below, piercing many of the creature's skulls as
the boar-faced humanoids brought their massive shields up to block the next
volley. The single demon blood burst into flame where he stood as Lord
Silverwing's arrow bore into the beast's eye socket. Lord Silverwing wasted no
time, sliding down the rocky wall that sloped away from the ledge where he had
stood moments before. He ignored the orcs that drew massive swords and turned
to pursue him, as he ran to cut off the mine entrance. If reinforcements were
to join the orcs around the fire, Lord Silverwing reasoned, they would emerge
from the mine itself.

           
The
sound of whistling arrows was everywhere at once as the archers at the ledge
fired mercilessly at the backs of Lord Silverwing's pursuers. Fasurel's great
bellow emerged from the far side of the encampment as he and his warriors
engaged the remaining orcs. These orcs were not demon bloods, and were
protected by their massive shields and thick plated armor, but the leader of
the mountain men took their heads just the same. The great swords the orcs
brought to bear against their attackers did them little good.
 
Vengeance for the fallen fueled the strikes
of all the masters of bow and blade, driving the rangers and druids alike into
a fit of madness the orcs could not match or stand against.

           
Lord
Silverwing was almost disappointed as the last of the enemies fell. Fasurel
made short work of all that he met, and the killing efficiency of the archers
was unmatched, so that none of the orcs survived and only minimal wounds were
sustained by the attackers. No reinforcements had presented themselves to face
Lord Silverwing's blades. Fasurel's words drifted across the encampment. “I
know
wha
'
ya
'
thinkin
', Lord Silverwing, an' I agree. They
weren
' meant
ta
hold this mine.”

           
“No,
Fasurel, they were not. There were far too few of them to stand against us.
Someone prepared this path. The question is, do we gain anything in finding
another way?” Lord Silverwing sheathed his blades, awaiting his friend's reply.

           
“One
way as good as
t'other
ta my
reckonin
'.
Don' see
findin
' another way
doin
'
much good. They know
we
comin
'.”
Fasurel took up a torch from near the mine entrance, moving to the fire to
light it.

           
Silverwing
watched the mountain man light the torch and motioned a couple of the others to
take up torches as well. “Yes, they know we are coming. I wish I were certain
of who 'they' are. Might as well get moving. We don't want to disappoint whoever
it is that has gone to such efforts to lead us here. “

           
“Aye,”
was Fasurel's only
answer.

***

           
Gregor
found himself in darkness. The man before him was bathed in white light. The
young warrior was dressed in armor similar to that worn by Gregor and bore the
two blades of the holy warrior's mentor sheathed at his sides. “Master?” Gregor
knelt before the man, certain the spirit of his mentor had left his body and
was passing into the glory of the God of Light.

           
The
vision of young Lord Silverwing smiled at the bowing warrior at his feet.
“Rise, Lord Lightsword. You are equal in my eyes and should bow to no man or
woman of the sword. Save your reverence for the priests of the Temple of Light
and our God.”

           
Gregor
rose as he was told. “I pay respects to you as I see fit, Master. Have you left
this world?”

           
“No,
brother. It appears the God of Light has plans for me yet. I have come to guide
you as I can, but time is short. You know the evil you must face, but you
follow my path in error. Do not be misled as I have. You cannot fail. The
huntress that follows my step will deliver you into the hands of the enemy,
though this is not her intent. You must forsake my path and find your own way
to the place where doom dwells. Follow the rogue. Boremac knows the ways of the
shadows and possesses the tools to take you to the heart of danger. The daggers
that led him to you in your time of need will guide you to the terrible danger
you must face.”

           
“I
do not understand. How can I save you if I am to be delivered into the maw of
the enemy?”

           
“I
do not know, Gregor. I only know what has been shown to me. Have faith, young
warrior, and the God of Light will save you when all others have fallen. We are
warriors of the Light, sent into battle. Leave it to the priests to interpret
the legacy of our actions.” Already Lord Silverwing was beginning to fade as the
light around him diminished.
 
“You, Lord
Lightsword, are to be the stuff of legends for centuries to come.”

***

           
Tana
knelt at Gregor's side, shaking him from sleep. There had been little need for
the rattling at her hands. His eyes sprung open, startling Tana as she released
him, and Gregor found he was sitting bolt upright with his hand at the hilt of
his sword.
 
“We have to follow Boremac.”
The words tripped over each other in their haste to make it past his lips.

           
Tana
was shocked into silence and Dramor was the first to give answer, disturbed by
the mere thought of following the rogue anywhere.
 
The mountain man and the rogue butted heads
often over Dramor's apparent lack of desire to move with anything resembling
stealth.
 
“
Wot
?
Ya
gots
ta be
yankin
' at us now, Lord Lightsword. I mean
ya
no
direspec
' but
wha
' bring this on?”

           
Boremac
snored loudly, indicating he was completely oblivious to the new
development.
 
Tana held her tongue for
the moment, though her expression was pained. She had felt they had been well
served with her tracking of Lord Silverwing. She had guided them easily to the
place where Lord Silverwing's companions were buried and was able to surmise
that the knight's remaining force had broken camp there only two days before
this group had arrived.

           
“Lord
Silverwing came to me as I slept. He warned against following his path and said
the rogue can bring us to the place we need to find.” Gregor related the dream
to Dramor and Tana, rapidly covering the details of his mentor's appearance.

           
Tana
could restrain her voice no longer as Gregor finished speaking. “Deliver you
into the hands of the enemy?
 
Why I would
do such a thing, or even how I could, is beyond me. By all means, let's follow
whomever you see fit, Master Gregor. As long as most of us are awake, we should
rouse our new tracker. By your leave?” Tana did not wait for a reply to her
request as she slipped toward the sleeping rogue with catlike grace. Two quick
slaps across Boremac's face had the desired effect.

           
“I
told you no one else could take your place, love. I don't know who that lass
is.” Boremac sat up, rubbing his eyes with his hands to clear the vestiges of
sleep. “What? Why is it still dark? What the hell did I miss? I had the
strangest dream. Tana, what are you doing right there and why are you looking
at me like that?”

           
Gregor
brought Boremac up to the present while Tana set out into the night to find
Sephia. The rogue was less than happy with the new position he held. “So, what
you are saying is, that Silverwing, whom you trust with your life, wants me to
take you wherever these blades of mine lead, knowing full well that the reason
these daggers glow at all is because you are in trouble? Is that about right?
Let's not forget the urging to keep the faith once the rest of us have fallen
around you. Tell you what, why don't you take the blades and I will have Tana
just cut my throat right here. At the very least, I can save myself the walk.”

           
Gregor
smiled at the rogue. “Can’t let you go that easy, my friend. You didn't expect
this quest to be without its challenges, did you? We all have our roles to
play, and immortality is nothing to fear. At the very least, the weight of sins
on your soul should be cleansed with your sacrifice in service to the God of
Light.”