The Reborn King (Book Six) (16 page)

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Authors: Brian D. Anderson

BOOK: The Reborn King (Book Six)
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“Are you badly hurt?” he asked Gewey.

The pain in Gewey’s leg wasn’t unbearable. He’d certainly had much worse. The same could be said of the gash above his waist. “I’ll be fine,” he replied. “Look to Nehrutu.”

Nehrutu was struggling to his feet. By now, blood had totally soaked his shirt sleeve and was dripping from his fingertips. Felsafell ripped the cloth free to examine him.

“I’m fine too,” the elf told them. But his face revealed the deception.

“There is no way of knowing how the bite will affect you,” Felsafell said grimly. “Sit. I have herbs and a salve.”

Nehrutu obeyed without protest. While Felsafell was treating him, Gewey took a look around and noticed the other lizard sprawled in a bloody heap, its head cut completely away from its body and tossed on the ground just beside it. He marveled at the strength the
first born
must
possess to have done such a thing armed with only a dagger. He then made a closer inspection of his injuries. Without the
flow
, both he and Nehrutu would have to heal naturally. And though his own wounds were far from life threatening, they would certainly ache and slow him down considerably.

After attending to Nehrutu, Felsafell did what he could to ease Gewey's pain. Once both
of his patients were ready to move, he took a minute to listen carefully for more foes. When satisfied that the danger had passed for now, he continued to lead them deeper into the mountain.

“What were those things?” asked Gewey.

“I don't know,” Felsafell replied. “I too have heard the same tales of the fire lizards that you were told. Perhaps the stories do have some basis in fact.”

“At least they didn’t breathe fire,” Gewey remarked. “In the stories my father told, they could burn a man to cinders with a single blast of their fiery breath.”

“Their bite was bad enough,” remarked Nehrutu. “I have never felt pain like it. It was as if the beast’s teeth were made of red hot iron.” He touched the bandage gingerly. “If anything, the burning is even worse than before.”

His remark caused Felsafell to pause and examine the wound once again. Gewey looked on as well, but the darkness prevented him from seeing color well enough to know if there was anything unusual.

Felsafell's sight was not so impaired. “It is already showing signs of infection,” he stated.

Nehrutu furled his brow. “So soon?”

“Yes,” he replied, not trying to hide his apprehension. “I think we must turn back immediately. I have never seen an infection spread so rapidly. You need the
flow
to heal you. Otherwise, I fear you will not last more than a day or two.”

“We cannot,” he contested. “Gewey must complete....”

Felsafell’s back stiffened and his hand shot up to silence Nehrutu in mid-sentence. He craned his neck, listening intently. Gewey heard the sounds a moment later. It was the hissing and scraping of claws…dozens of them coming near – and coming fast.

Without another word, the three of them burst into a dead run. With an injured leg, Gewey struggled to keep pace. But he grimly pushed on through the pain and managed not to lose sight of Felsafell. They twisted and turned down dozens of diverging passages. He prayed that Felsafell was leading them in the right direction. Another fight with the giant lizards would certainly be the end of their quest.

The pounding of their boots and the sounds of their heavy breathing was loud, but even above these distractions he could still hear the creatures quickly closing in. They couldn’t be more than one-hundred yards back…possibly even closer. On and on Gewey ran. He could almost feel the beasts at their heels when he at last saw a light ahead illuminating a curve in the tunnel.

The way out
, he thought.
Thank the Creator
.

He glanced over his shoulder, and it was instantly obvious that Nehrutu was in distress. The increasing light allowed him to see that the elf’s face had now turned ghostly pale. Moreover, at least twenty of the lizards were in sight and only a few yards behind. But the light ahead was drawing ever closer – it was almost blinding now. It looked like they were going to make it after all.

A sudden thought then caused his heart to sink. Escaping the interior of the mountain may not be any guarantee of safety. It was possible that the lizards would simply follow them outside and kill them there. He clenched his jaw.
Much better to die in the light of the sun than in the bowels of the earth
.

The three of them burst into the open air with literally seconds to spare before being caught. Without even glancing at their surroundings they all spun around, weapons drawn and tensed for a battle to the death. At first, it looked as if the lizards were coming straight for them. But at the final instant, the creatures in the lead came sliding to a halt on the very edge of the opening. With the others lined up behind them, they simply stared out, a feral look of hunger in their glittering yellow eyes. Gasps of relief sounded all around as the situation became clear. It was then Gewey could see for the first time that the reptiles' skin was not black at all, but a deep ocean blue. After hissing their deadly intent and frothing at the mouth a few more times, the beasts slowly and reluctantly retreated back into the darkness.

“Fortune remains our ally,” Felsafell remarked with a grin.

But the good cheer was short-lived. The harsh clanging of metal on stone quickly drew Gewey and Felsafell’s attention back to Nehrutu. His sword had slipped from his hand and fallen onto the ground beside him. Now, his legs were wobbling erratically. Gewey only just managed to catch him before he fell. He laid the elf gently on his back. His face was a colorless death mask.

Felsafell wasted no time in tearing off the bandage. Gewey gasped at what he saw; every bit of tissue surrounding the bite had turned black, with tiny white pustules forming all along the injury itself.

Nehrutu winced several times while Felsafell attempted to clean the wound. “It looks as if this is as far as I am going, my friends.”
His voice was straining through the pain, and large beads of sweat were beginning to form on his cheeks and brow. 

Gewey tried again to touch the flow, but it was still useless. “Hang on,” he said. “You can make it through this.”

But the look on Felsafell’s face told him a different story.

All at once, Nehrutu’s eyes widened and his hand shot out to point at something directly behind Gewey and Felsafell.

Only then did they begin taking notice of their surroundings. The rocky clearing they were standing in was roughly circular - about one-hundred feet in diameter. One side of it was flanked by the mountain, the other by a sheer cliff more than two-hundred feet high. Directly opposite the passage from which they had fled, another path could be seen leading further north.

But it was not the landscape that had startled Nehrutu. Standing about fifty feet away from them was a massive creature, its entire body covered in thick black fur. With shoulders as broad as a bear, it stood a full head taller than Felsafell. A pig-like snout decorated the center of its dark skinned face. As if stunned, it stared at them through red eyes that were set unnaturally close together.

“Morzhash,” croaked Nehrutu. “Don’t let it escape.”

Gewey vaguely recalled Aaliyah telling him about the Morzhash when they were in the desert together. But what were they doing here?

The beast had still not made any kind of move. Gewey gripped his sword and glanced at Felsafell.

“Hurry,” pressed Nehrutu. “If it gets away, it might bring others back here.”

“It seems afraid,” whispered Felsafell.

“We can’t take a chance,” said Gewey.

Without further discussion, he raced off in the direction of the northern path. With speed astonishing for something so large, the creature did the same. But Gewey was able to block its way. Raising his blade, he prepared to strike. Aaliyah had mentioned that the Morzhash were extremely powerful and quick, so he knew that such a large beast would likely be formidable. But with Felsafell at his side, he was confident they could slay it.

The ground shook with the pounding of its paw-like feet. Felsafell was moving in behind it, though he had not yet drawn his weapon. Just when the creature was coming within reach of
Gewey’s blade, it slid to a halt and spun around. At the sight of the
first born
, it let out a loud roar. But it was not a roar of rage or hatred. If anything, it was more akin to the sound of terror.

Felsafell halted and locked eyes with the Morzhash. It opened its mouth, but this time, instead if a roar, a defeated moan came forth. Its shoulders slumped and it dropped to its knees.

“Kill me quickly,” it said in a low, guttural voice. It bowed its head, awaiting its fate.

Gewey was dumbstruck. He lowered his weapon and looked to Felsafell, who was also clearly astonished.

“You speak,” Felsafell said.

“Of course I speak,
first born
,” it replied. “Now do what you must.”

Gewey was unsure what their next move should be. He could not reconcile the stories he'd been told with this submissive creature now kneeling before him.

“If you mean us no harm,” he eventually said.  “Then we mean you none either.”

The Morzhash huffed a scornful laugh. “It is not I who would have captured you. Nor do I travel with an elf.” The word 'elf' came out sounding like a curse.

“You bear elves ill will?” asked Felsafell.

“They are savages. Heartless brutes who destroy anything they do not understand.”

“The elf who travels with us is not your enemy,” Felsafell told it. “He is our friend, and he is poisoned by the bite of the giant lizards which dwell within the mountain.”

A grin crept over its face, revealing small pointed front teeth and two-inch long canines. “Then when he dies, the world will be just a little bit more tolerable.”

A desperate thought suddenly flashed through Gewey's mind. This creature was obviously familiar with the lizard's deadliness.

“Do you know how to help him?” he abruptly asked.

“Perhaps. But why would I wish to do that?”

Anger rose up in Gewey at this display of stubbornness. But before he could say anything further, Felsafell stepped in.

“If you can heal him,” he said, “then I promise to release you. You will be free to go on your own way unharmed.”

“And if I refuse, you will kill me?” it asked contemptuously.

“No,” Felsafell replied. “But neither shall we let you go.”

The creature was silent for more than a minute. Then, after making a grumbling sound, it rose to its feet. “Very well.”

With huge strides and the others following, the Morzhash strode off toward the base of the cliff face where a small leather satchel lay. From this it withdrew a tiny flask.

“Do you have a name?” asked Felsafell.

“I am Cloya,” it replied. “Daughter of Menru.”

Gewey only just managed to suppress a burst of laughter.
A female?
What in the name of all creation must the males look like
?

“Pour some of this on his wound and have him drink the rest,” Cloya continued. “He will be returned to health within a day. Until then, do not move him.”

The moment Felsafell took the flask from her hand, Cloya set off in the direction of the path.

“Wait!” Gewey demanded, barring her way. His sword was still in his hand.

Cloya halted and gave a grunt. “You break your oath?”

“I break nothing,” Gewey countered. “But Nehrutu is not yet healed. All we have is your word that what you have given to us will help him.”

Her back straightened, giving her already considerable height even more definition. “I am a
yetulu
, not an elf. I do not lie. Do as I say and he will live.”

“And what is to prevent you from returning with more of your kind to slaughter us?” asked Felsafell.

Cloya gave an ominous grin. “Nothing at all. But that was not the bargain, was it?”

“True,” admitted Felsafell. “Therefore, you are free to go. We will trust that you are being honest with us.” He bowed. “And we thank you.”

Gewey stared at the Morzhash for a moment longer before reluctantly sheathing his sword and stepping aside. She paused when level with him and looked down, her red eyes scrutinizing every inch of his body. Gewey met her gaze, but quickly found it difficult to maintain contact.

“I would know your name,” she said.

“Darshan,” he replied. His god name passed his lips before he realized he'd spoken it.

She chuckled. “Darshan? So you have come at last. I must admit, I expected…more. Of course, you may be lying.” She cocked her head. “We will know soon enough.”

After a final glance at Felsafell, she continued on her way to the path. Her long strides quickly had her out of sight.

Gewey and Felsafell hurried back to where Nehrutu lay. The elf’s eyes were now shut and his lips had turned a horrible grey color. Only the slight movements of his chest told that he was still alive.

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