The Orb of Truth (The Horn King Series) (9 page)

“Hi Bridazak! My name is Lester, and this is my brother Ross,”
the animated pick introduced himself. Bridazak looked up at Dulgin, smiling incredulously. Dulgin squinted with a blank stare, waiting for something he was supposed to notice, but heard only an uncomfortable silence.

“Can you see them? They are talking to me.”

“What are ya talking about, ya blundering fool? Them are just some ugly-looking, rusted tools ya got there. I thought you were in danger or something. Don’t be getting the mad fever on me,” he muttered in frustration as he moved back to the wood he had dropped.

“Ah, don’t worry about him, he is always grumpy,”
Lester chimed in response to the Dwarf. The other pick spoke,
“We are now at your service. There is no lock or trap that we can’t get through,”
it boasted in a demeanor of pride.

The items had distinct voices. Lester spoke with a deeper, metallic tone, while Ross had more of a squeaky, tinny whine.

“So this was his secret. Where did Spilf find you? This is amazing,” Bridazak sputtered.

Dulgin looked back over at the Ordakian and shook his head. Worrying his friend had lost his sanity, he went back to tending the fire.

“You can talk to us through your mind Bridazak, so as not to alert anyone around you. That is how we are talking to you right now, and that is why Mr. Grumpy can’t hear us.”

Bridazak tried it out,
“Can you hear me?”

“Yes, we can hear you.”

Bridazak slid his satchel over next to him and retrieved the strange wooden box.
“Can you find a way inside this?”
he asked in his mind.

“Why, sure we can. Lester’s specialty is finding traps and mine is unlocking the best of locks. We can see anything invisible or illusioned. There is nothing in the entire realm that we can’t bypass or find,”
Ross replied.

Bridazak moved the picks back and forth, side to side, under and over. They studied the container until Lester finally responded,
“Except for this. I apologize, but we are unable to locate any opening, lock, or trap. This is not from this realm Bridazak, which means our reputation is still intact.”

Ross added,
“Wow, that was a close call, brother. Good thing it is not from this realm. I can’t imagine our reputation being blemished—like that Dwarf. I would lock myself in a room and throw away the key. Wait, that doesn’t work. I could still get out. Well anyway, just look at that scar on his face. He scares me, Lester.”

Ross continued talking, but Bridazak tuned out his voice, remembering what Kiratta had told him,
“To open this gift you will need to bare your heart to the one that has given it to you.”

“Bare my heart,” he whispered.

“What did he say?”

“Never mind, Ross. Just let our new boss be. He is trying to figure something out, I can tell.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, I will let him be. Do you think he will be long, Lester?”

“Ross, this is not the time. Now be quiet so he can concentrate.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. Good call Lester. We will just be quiet now.”

Their exchanges didn’t phase the Ordakian as he continued to whisper, “bare my heart.” He closed his eyes and focused on the words.

“Hey Lester, why did he close his eyes? Is he going to sleep? What about us?”

“Ross! Be quiet! He is not sleeping.”

“Oh, okay, good, I just didn’t want him to forget about us. Don’t be so angry with me, Lester.”

“I’m not angry, but if you keep talking I will be.”

“Why? What did I do? Don’t be mad, Lester. I cannot take another silent treatment from you. Those years stuck in this bag, alone, with you in silence, were torture. I can’t handle it again.”

“Oh, just be quiet for once, Ross!”

Bridazak’s surroundings began to fade away as he searched deep within himself. His body stilled; there was no sound of a fire, or Lester and Ross, or the howling wind—just peace in this state of apparent solitude. There was a familiarity of his surroundings; it reminded him of the dream that haunted him for centuries. He saw a pinhole of light far off in the distance of his mind’s eye. As he focused intently on the source, it began to expand and move toward him. He was soon inside a tunnel with waves of warm energy gently washing over him. He felt the presence of a being so powerful that he could no longer stand, and dropped to his knees. There in the center of the splendor was the silhouette of a person.

“Are you the one who gave me this?” Bridazak asked, and was suddenly holding the ornate wooden box.

“Yes,” came the response; the voice, soft, pure, and comforting, yet somehow also terrifying and strong, penetrated his heart like nothing he had ever heard. He recognized this as the same sensation he’d felt while carrying the container, but it was no longer like looking through fog, or hearing underwater. He realized the door separating them was now open.

“I don’t understand what I need to do, or why I have been chosen,” the Ordakian replied.

Suddenly, Bridazak was standing before a mirror, endless in all directions. Inspecting himself quizzically, the voice returned, “For now you see only a reflection as in a mirror; soon you shall see me face to face. Now you know in part; soon you shall know fully, even as you are fully known. In time I will return and have already. Arise and return to me what was never lost; only waiting.”

The mirror liquefied and wrapped itself around Bridazak. An intense heat wracked his body, and he felt like his heart might explode. His eyes opened and he gasped for air. The ground lightly trembled under his feet. He realized he was back at the campsite and looking straight at Dulgin, who stared, mouth open and eyes wide, beyond Bridazak’s head. He slowly turned around to see what Dulgin was looking at—it was a two-inch in diameter perfect sphere of gold hovering before him.

“Do not be afraid, Bridazak,” it spoke with a deep, authoritative voice. The same strange sensation still enveloped him, though the peaceful realm he had visited seemed to be a distant memory. Dulgin’s knees slightly buckled from the Orb’s presence, but he stabilized himself.

“Who are you, or what are you?”

“I am Truth,” it answered.

“You are the reason for the trouble I am in, and the reason my friend died, aren’t you?”

“I am the reason for the trials you are facing.”

“Why are you so important to have? Why does everyone want you? I have so many questions.”

“I know your burden, Bridazak. I have been hidden from the world for hundreds of years. An ancient prophecy speaks of my release—a part of the prophecy that you have fulfilled.”

“I don’t understand, so the prophecy is fulfilled? Can we go? What do I do now?”

“You must complete what you have started, and bring me to the temple in Everwood Forest. The road ahead of you will be difficult, but you will not be alone. I have summoned a foreigner from the East to accompany you, and I will protect you from scrying eyes; you will not be found by magic known to any being while in my vicinity. Before you is a great task, with great rewards.”

“What is worth more than my friend? I thought this would be different. You came from nothing—out of my dream. I felt that I needed to know what kind of magic could come from dreams, because I needed to find meaning in my life, but my wish for some unknown good to come out of my fearful imagination has only brought loss. How am I supposed to do this without Spilf?” Bridazak backed into a large rock and slid down, burying his head between his legs in sorrow.

“Things are not always what they seem. Spilfer Teehle’s destiny is fulfilled. You have a choice: to seek the truth, or continue in uncertainty. What must be, will be done, Bridazak. There is a finish line ahead of you, and you must endure the hardships to complete the race. Your heart has led you this far.”

Bridazak sat still as the words from The Orb of Truth weighed heavily in his mind. He slowly peered up, to find that the golden sphere had drawn nearer to him.

“Are you taking me to the one that I am to meet? Is he at the temple?”

“No.”

“Who is he?”

“He is the one that was, that is, and that will forever be.”

“You are not answering anything, and yet you say you are Truth. Who are you talking about?”

“I will supply you with all you need when the time is right.”

Bridazak resigned himself, “Well, will you at least tell me about this foreigner you have summoned? Who is he?”

“His name is Abawken Shellahk and he comes from the province of Zoar. He is a fighter who will aid you in your quest.” The Orb moved toward the Dwarf, who stepped backward in surprise. “Dulgin of the Hammergold Clan, you were ordained to protect Bridazak and to continue your travels alongside him, no matter where they will take you. Do you accept this quest?”

The Dwarf regained his composure, “I respectfully decline. I recognize you are of importance, but,” he turned toward Bridazak, and continued, “he is not a quest. It has been and will continue to be a privilege and honor to fight for my friends. I will go anywhere and do anything for him.” Bridazak smiled; he could feel Dulgin’s words resounding inside his soul. Their long-standing bond had just grown stronger.

There was suddenly no wind and no sound of water rushing in the riverbed. They both heard the faint scuffling of movement on the rocks below their camp.

“I have allowed you to hear Abawken’s approach so you can see the truth that I speak. Now wait and greet him. He does not know why he has been summoned; you can inform him when he arrives.”

The Orb suddenly disappeared, but the Ordakian felt the weight of the object in his left pocket. Bridazak took a couple steps over to his friend and then whispered into his ear. When he finished, he slinked back into the recesses of the dark. Dulgin sat on a small rock next to the fire with his weapon of choice resting on his lap as he poked at the charred wood with a stick. It was only a minute later when the stranger approached the perimeter of the light given by the fire.

“Take one more step and it will be your last,” Dulgin confronted the intruder.

There was no reply for five long seconds, “I am sorry to disturb you, Master Dwarf. I thought I might find some company and share your fire this cold night.”

“You thought wrong. Dwarves don’t share anything,” he responded.

“I apologize once again, and will be on my way.”

“What brings you out here all alone, traveller?” Dulgin quickly asked.

The mysterious person entered the campfire light. He stood six feet tall and was lean but well-built. He was wearing tan clothing that had seen better days. Leather armor was showing under his attire, and his boots were wrapped intricately with more cloth and strips of brown hide. A gold, tassled sash draped around his waist and dangled down on his left side. The human hid his face with a tan-colored scarf which revealed only his eyes.

“Nice weapon,” Dulgin said.

He had noticed the stranger’s scimitar dangling at his side the moment he laid eyes on him. The hilt was masterfully crafted in gold and platinum with jewels inlaid throughout. The blade bore intricate etchings from top to bottom. It was a magnificent piece that rivaled anything Dulgin had seen before.

“I’m alone, stranger. Why don’t you sit for a few minutes to gather yourself before you take off?” Dulgin continued, since there was no response from the human.

The foreigner took a step toward the fire and then began to unwrap the linen from his head, revealing chiseled facial features which contrasted against a dark brown beard and untrimmed hair descending to his shoulders. His eyes were the color of the bluest ocean. The Dwarf motioned with his poker stick for the traveller to sit down by the fire.

“My thanks, Master Dwarf.”

“So, what are ya doing out in these parts? You are definitely not from around here,” Dulgin continued the dialogue.

“I am on a quest, Master Dwarf, that seems to have no end in sight. I have traversed the land beyond measurement and fought to survive on my own in a world that doesn’t relent in danger. My apologies for the long reply,” the human responded sullenly.

“How long have you been on this quest?”

“I am approaching the twelfth full moon.”

“What would be worth heading out into the world all alone for so long?” Dulgin’s interest was sincere.

“It is difficult to explain, kind Dwarf. It is something that I wrestle with myself, to be honest. With each day that passes, I question why I should continue. None the less, I will walk all my days if I must, in order to complete the calling that I have received.”

“Calling? Who called you?”

“More like a vision.”

“Oh, Dwarves get those all the time, after a good night of drinking.”

“Well met, Master Dwarf. I thank you for the brief warmth of your fire.”

Dulgin’s eyebrows both shot up. “I see no harm with you staying the night, Abaw—” he tried to stop himself from saying the human’s name, but it was too late.

Abawken instantly stood in alarm, hand on hilt, in a defensive posture. “I never revealed my name to you, Master Dwarf, and yet you know it. Who are you?”

Dulgin stood frazzled, not accustomed to the position he had been placed in; this was Bridazak and Spilf’s territory. He fumbled for the words to keep things moving along, but gave up and sat back down to tend to the fire.

“We know who you are, and we mean no harm,” Dulgin relinquished.

“I know there is another Dwarf in your camp that hasn’t revealed himself yet, as I saw that there are two bedrolls,” Abawken laid out the information he had gathered.

There was no movement for weapons, but everyone was cautious and slow to react.

“You have found what you were looking for,” Dulgin slowly stated as he continued to poke and spark the embers.

“I am in search of a Halfling, not a Dwarf,” he responded quickly and confidently.

“They are known as Ordakians, or ‘Daks, in these lands.”

Bridazak emerged from the shadows to reveal himself. Abawken’s eyes focused on him for a moment, then he quickly dropped to his knees and bowed before the Ordakian. Bridazak looked at Dulgin, smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. The Dwarf went back to his grumpy mood, shaking his head in unbelief.