The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) (100 page)

It appeared absurd to Garius to see the two bullheaded taur, the two women and the half-orc all behind the dwarf obeying him—such a motley bunch—but comply they did.

The pale-skinned warlock gave Garius a cruel, sardonic grin, knowing that she had bested him not only their previous contest, but she also held the upper hand at the moment. The imp was under her control.

There was not much choice in the matter. He had to do what was asked of him now, or the princess would die. That was not an outcome that he could live with.

“Very well, dwarf. I have no choice but to accept your demands and leave this village, never to return,” Garius mentioned to the sound of gasps from behind him. “Stay your demon and give your word that no harm shall befall my companions, and we will take our leave.”

“Aye,” Xorgram agreed. “Yer word?”

“Yes,” Garius responded. “But, I would very much like to know…who or
what
took our ‘
bauble’
, as you called it?”

“That’s not part o’ our agreement, Inquisitor. Now take yer princess and go! Afore I make the imp inject that venom in yer lady’s neck.”

Garius turned to regard the tiny demon, still poised to deliver the blow at a moment’s notice, a malevolent sneer planted on its misshapen face. The platform began to descend and then paused again suddenly.

“I will tell ye this,” called the voice of Xorgram from the platform again, his head still barely visible. “They be led by a demon. I be sure that’d interest ye greatly, Inquisitor. I ain’t one fer messin’ with demons, ye understand, eh? And if ye be thinkin’ o’ breakin’ yer word, know that I got several more o’ me kin on their way back and…let’s just say ye’d have ta carve up a hunnerd of us. Them ain’t great odds, I’m thinkin’.”

With that, the sound of the winch continued and the imp vanished from beside the princess’s exposed neck. She collapsed into the arms of Elec as Garius turned to regard the group. He nodded for them to exit.

“You really mean to leave?!” Saeunn gasped through bloody lips. It looked to Garius as if the taur was possibly a match for her and he knew that she would want to finish it for no other reason than to find out for sure. Garius simply nodded to her.

“I don’t—”

“If we stay
and
defeat these foes, what good does it do us?” Garius barked, interrupting Saeunn as she pleaded her case. “Remember our purpose. It was to recover the artifact. We failed.”

With that, the heavily armored Inquisitor made his way out of the mineshaft and into the village, under cover of moonlight and a starry night sky, leaving behind a stunned group of companions. He turned to regard them and spoke once more before heading down the path to Heartwood Valley below.

“We failed.”

It was a full cycle of night to day and back again before the woman finally roused from her slumber

“Glad to see you’ve finally awakened, my lady,” stated Elec to Princess Amara who lay upon his bunk at the rear of the caravan as it bounded along the path afforded by Heartwood Valley.

He stared intensely into her deep brown eyes with contemplation.  She was undeniably beautiful, regardless of the state of her disheveled blonde hair, which was matted and unkempt.

“What month?” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and pulling Elec from his musing.

“We are in the middle of The Deluge, princess,” Elec mentioned. The summer months will soon be upon us.”

Rose chuckled mockingly in response at hearing the label of ‘princess’ spoken aloud. Elec stared blankly at her as she looked from person to person in the caravan, looking for someone else who may have found it amusing. None did, especially the Inquisitor who wore a pensive expression. Rose rolled her eyes and ran an oiled rag along the length of her daggers, muttering to herself.

“My mother will be pleased that I return unharmed,” Amara stated to the elf in appreciation.

“It will be a joyous occasion for both your mother and the people of Norgeld to gaze upon you again, my lady,” Garius mentioned from not so far away, as he bowed his head respectfully.

“I have had…dreams about you all,” she informed them, sliding to the edge of the cot and offering a polite nod in acknowledgment of his courtesy.

“Dreams?” Elec asked, not understanding what she was implying.

“More like visions, I suppose.”

“What sort of visions?” Saeunn blurted from the adjacent cot beside Amara, sitting up and fully attentive.

Amara slid from the cot and pushed past Elec to stand in the center of the caravan.

“It…they were horrible dreams,” she admitted, spinning and staring at the half-ogre, Orngoth, sitting quietly in the corner of the wagon. He was staring at a multicolored gem nd glanced up at her. She backed away hurriedly, a look of panic present on her face.

“Visions can be…
deceptive
…and false, my lady,” Garius clarified as he took a seat, staring absently out the window. “But, you are already mindful of this fact.”

“Indeed,” Amara said as she backed into Rose, who caught her and straightened her up again.

“Careful, princess,” she teased. She moved to a cupboard, opened it, retrieved a pitcher and poured a mug of wine.  Amara backed away from Rose with a grimace and a look of embarrassment on her face. It was obvious she felt out of place here and Rose only accentuated that feeling for her.

“I thank you for finding me, Inquisitor,” Amara said as she cast her shadow over him.

“It was…unplanned, my lady. A stroke of blind luck, really, I am sad to admit,” he said. A look of confusion twisted her otherwise beautiful features, followed quickly by a clearly profound sadness.

“Apologies if my words offended you, my lady. I truly feel that finding you was a gift from the gods themselves. All of Wothlondia is the better for it,” Garius said, standing and dropping to one knee as he finished the statement. It was obvious to Rose that the Inquisitor wanted to make good on his show of respect to the princess. She once again fought to stifle a chuckle.

“Then what task brought you there?”

 “We were investigating the disappearance of a dangerous artifact. It contains the soul of a very powerful mage who is now an instrument of undeath and holds the key to the creature’s return to power,” Garius remarked as he stood.

“I see,” she said dejectedly, slumping into the chair which Garius had just vacated.

“The dwarf who held you captive. Who was he?” Elec asked, attempting to break her sour mood.

“I had visions of that one. He may have once been a hero in another life, I tend to believe,” she said, straightening her posture as she spoke. “He is not truly a scoundrel in the basest sense, nor does he seem to be a malevolent person by nature, but rather a misguided soul.”

“We should have slain him when we had the chance,” Saeunn said curtly, joining the woman at the table and staring hard at Amara.

“Aye. I have a feeling we might be seeing that one again,” Rose agreed, as she drained the mug, poured herself another helping of the wine, and then joined the other two at the table.

Saeunn tore meat from a rather stale leg of lamb they’d had in reserve. Elec had cooked it for her using something in his lab. The smell of the meat wafted in the caravan, though no one seemed hungry enough to care. The smell actually made Rose queasy.

“I’ve no intention of pursuing these highwaymen anytime soon. But, in the future, he will be brought to court to face justice for the crimes he’s committed against Norgeld…amongst others,” Garius claimed sternly. “You can bet on that. I may have given my word that I would never return, but I made no such promise regarding others from my Order.”

Silence fell over the wagon and Rose lay down on the cot at the rear of the space. Elec and Amara discussed many subjects at length while Saeunn honed the edge of her blade with a whetstone. Those were the last sounds she heard before sleep claimed her.

“I’m doing you no good here anymore,” said the half-orc to Xorgram as they stood about in his private chambers. Cassia, Helene and the taur were all there, as well as Fuddle. “I need to go.”

He had lingering thoughts about the woman he’d seen in the mineshaft—Cassia’s dance partner—and had the strangest recollection of his own mother.

Amtusk had fleeting visions of his mother. She might even still be alive and quite probably living in Oakhaven, where he was born. He had a sudden yearning to see if she yet lived there. The sentiment had surfaced mildly when he stopped Rogoth from killing his own wife in cold blood. Then seeing the redheaded woman reinforced the feeling, strangely. She reminded him of his earliest recollections of his mother for one reason or another. It was probably just the color of her hair, he figured.

“What are ye sayin’?” Xorgram said with a half-smile, spinning to stare at the half-orc and pulling him from his reminiscing. He scanned Amtusk closely, perhaps assuming it was all in jest.

There was no smile forthcoming, however.

“Are ye serious?”

Amtusk stood before him and nodded.

“I mean you no ill will and no disrespect, my lord,” he began to say as Xorgram scoffed at the title he so loathed. “But, I have come to realize that my life is…..”

Xorgram studied the half-orc’s body language, realizing him to be serious in his concerns.

“I am feeling that I need to seek
higher
purpose and wish to find it,” he paused and looked up toward the surface, “out there—with your consent, of course.”

Amtusk did not realize the true effect it would have on him, or Xorgram when he thought about, before approaching the dwarf with his concerns. It had obviously affected Xorgram as he recognized a pained expression and a hint of true sadness on the dwarf’s face, but he felt he needed to do this for himself. In his mind, his debt to Xorgram was paid.

Besides
, he mused,
pilfering and sacking the lowly merchants is not exactly a challenge anymore. I grow very tired of my duties here.
And I grow even wearier of Synewulf. If I stay, I will most likely kill him. It is better this way.

He looked up to see Xorgram’s staring past him. Before he could even move, it was already too late.

Cassia began to maneuver herself slowly at Amtusk’s back and Helene, too, began mouthing a spell. Xorgram shot Cassia a disapproving look, then shook his head ever so slightly, but did not catch Helene as she finished her spell.

Strands of the blackest pitch once more originated from her, sent forth along her arms as they entangled the body of the mighty half-orc, lifting him from the ground.

“No!” Xorgram barked, staring firmly at the warlock. Her eyes widened in surprise and she nodded with acquiescence, dropping the half-orc to the hard ground as her ebon bands faded from sight.

 “If I must die in order to be released from your service, then so be it,” Amtusk said resignedly.

“Ye have served me well, Amtusk. And I bear ye no ill will either,” Xorgram managed, helping the half-orc to his feet.

“Grogo will soon be here with me hammer and we will continue on as planned,” Xorgram declared, this statement directed more to the others in the room than to Amtusk.

“As fer you,” Xorgram said, moving behind his desk and fetching something. He tossed a shirt interlaced with a series of tiny black chains encompassing its surface to the half-orc. “This be fer you. Consider it a parting gift fer the loyalty ye shown me in the past.”

Amtusk caught the thing and considered it, holding it up with two hands and admiring its artistry. Xorgram leaned in to Amtusk and whispered, “There be a couple o’ horse at the base o’ the hill. Ye can take one if ye need.” Then he backed away from him and sighed deeply. A moment of silence passed as the half-orc continued examining the ebon chain shirt.

“And don’t ferget yer oath,” Xorgram added, nodding to the half-orc. He knew that Amtusk remembered the vows he spoke years prior when he joined the Blackstone Brotherhood. Words that were spoken as a vow to themselves and to the others, and had been upheld for a decade plus.

No one had ever voluntarily left before, though, and Xorgram had never even considered it until now, but he saw no real reason why he should kill the half-orc. It was simply not his way.

Xorgram stood away from the door and the others, even Skuros and Kroskus, mimicked his actions to allow the half-orc to pass.

Xorgram began to listen to the others murmuring amongst themselves as he watched the half-orc head straight toward the ladder.