The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) (44 page)

Locksher ran towards it and shouted, “Fist! Do it now!”

Fist heard the yelping of the lupolds and caught flashes of the fighting from Squirrel’s eyes. The speedy little creature had darted up to the mound, and climbed atop one of the boulders. He continued to watch the fight so Fist would know what was happening.

Fist wanted to go help, but he didn’t dare leave Locksher’s side. The wizard was burning up as his body tried to fight off the parasitic invaders. If the fever got any hotter, he was going to have to act whether the wizard was ready or not.

“Rufus, are you going to go help them?” Fist asked.

The rogue horse was standing at stiff attention in front of the cave entrance, covered in a blanket of snow. He was focused on the battle, but hadn’t moved. “No. I stay,” he said.
I protect you and Locksher if they come here
.

Fist had to admit that was probably for the best. The creatures were likely here for Locksher after all.
Thank you
.

He looked back to the wizard. “Wake up, Locksher!”

The wizard’s eye fluttered and Fist saw his lips move. The ogre leaned in closer. Was he trying to say something? The wizard grimaced, and Fist saw a tiny maggot wiggling between two of his teeth.

“Gross,” he said worriedly. “What do I do? What do I do?”

Maryanne ran around the corner, breathing heavily. There was a deep gash on her cheek and blood streamed down her face, but she was smiling. “We killed the things it sent up here. They weren’t all that hard to fight. I don’t think it knew exactly who we were, because if it was me, I would have sent-.”

“Something bigger’s coming!” Qenzic exclaimed, running into view from the falling snow. “Don’t how what it is, but it’s huge and it’s hairy and it climbs fast!”

Fist swallowed, not knowing what to do.

“Hey! I think he’s trying to say something,” Maryanne said, pointing at the wizard,

Fist returned his attention to the wizard. Locksher grunted and his eyes opened. They were filled with rage. Locksher snarled and raised his hand. Flames rose from his fingers.

Fist lurched forward and grasped both of his master’s wrists. He could feel the heat of the flames against his face as he released vibrating strands of earth and air. Electricity surged through the wizard. Fist tried to control the charge, sending just enough to kill the worms without burning the man’s insides.

Locksher hung limp. Fist laid him gently to the ground and sent his magic into the man to make sure he was alright. The ogre laughed in relief. “His heart’s beating. He’s still breathing!”

“Good, cause we might need his help!” Qenzic said, backing up.

“Oh damn,” said Maryanne, grabbing an arrow from her quiver.

Fist rushed to the entrance and looked out as the large beast pulled itself up over the cliff’s edge. It was twelve-feet-tall at the shoulders and covered head-to-toe in white shaggy hair. Its head was large and ape-like and it had long yellow claws. It opened up its mouth and roared, exposing enormous fangs.

“What the hell is that?” Lyramoor asked.

Fist’s eyes widened. “I think that’s a real gwatch.”

“It does kinda look like Rufus,” Maryanne remarked, lifting her bow.

“Not. A. Gotch!” Rufus roared and charged towards the creature. While he was on all fours it was taller than him, but he was just as heavy.

It ran towards him, roaring as it went, spittle flying from its fangs. It reared back, its clawed arms ready to strike, but Rufus was approaching too fast. They collided in the center of the rock shelf. Rufus’ broad shoulder caught it in the middle of its chest and he swept out with one long arm, bowling it over.

It landed on its back and Rufus was on top of it, pounding its head with brutal punches of his fists. It rolled, bucking him off, and swung one arm out in a heavy backhand that caught Rufus in the face as he came to his feet. Rufus roared and grew larger.

Fist and the other companions could do nothing but stare at the vicious display as the gorilla-like creatures went at each other, their fur matted in freshly fallen snow.

“I don’t see how I could get a shot in,” said Maryanne.

The two huge beasts battled back and forth. With each blow, Rufus grew slightly larger until he was as tall on all fours as the other beast was standing on two feet. The gwatch, though bruised and battered, was driven mad by infestation and unable to concede the fight and retreat.

Finally, Rufus grabbed one of its legs and yanked it out from under it. The beast fell and he pounded it with his fists. Then, while it was dazed, he grasped it with both hands and reared up, lifting it high in the air. With an earsplitting roar, he threw the gwatch. It struck the ground with an audible crunch and rolled off of the cliff’s edge.

Rufus spat after it and beat his chest with one fist. While the others nodded in approval, he shrank gradually back to his normal size and walked back to them, breathing heavily.

“Good fight,” Fist said, patting the rogue horse fondly as he sent his magic through the bond, checking him for infestation. He didn’t find any larvae, but there were several deep lacerations that he started healing right away.

“Not a gotch!” Rufus said again, looking at Maryanne.

She nodded and patted his arm. “I agree with you, big guy. I was wrong before. No resemblance at all.”

“Hey,” said Lyramoor, who was peering over the edge at the slope below. “I’m glad that’s over and everything, but we should go now. Whoever that person down there is, they’re waving their arms around and there are big things moving in that lake.”

“He is correct. We should leave right away,” said a weak voice and they turned to see Locksher standing at the cave entrance, leaning against a boulder.

“Locksher are you alright?” Fist asked, rushing to his side.

The wizard waved him away. “We must get back to the Thunder People territory quickly so that Maryanne and Charz can contact their bonding wizards. I know what we’re facing now and we need all the help both schools can send us. We should probably contact King Demetrius as well.”

“What is it?” Lyramoor asked.

“We’re dealing with the power of the moonrat mother,” he said.

Fist said. “But you said that was impossible. She is dead.”

“We didn’t know everything. When Mellinda was hunted down, Sherl thought she had destroyed all the orange eyes, but she didn’t.” He held up two fingers. “We missed two. Two of them that had dug their way into the ground down at the bottom of where that black lake is now.” He glanced at Qenzic. “From that moonrat you fought at the beginning of the war, I’m guessing.

“When Jhonate cut Mellinda’s soul free from the foul dagger it was bound to, part of it escaped here. Now, the orange eyes weren’t strong enough to contain the entirety of Mellinda’s twisted soul. This is why she hadn’t tried to use them to escape before. But two of them were just enough to contain her power itself. Nothing but her unbridled rot and rage.”

“So that’s what’s controlling the worms,” Fist said in shock.

“Yes and no. Mellinda is the raw power that controls them yes, but her intelligence was cut free . . . destroyed. What’s left of her would be a relatively dangerous though ineffective threat alone. But something else is attached to that power,” he said, his eyes intense. “Mellinda’s link to the Dark Prophet, forged by the Dark Bowl.”

His words brought silence as everyone tried to absorb the portents.

“We’re up against the Dark Prophet himself?” Qenzic said in a shocked voice.

“No,” said Locksher, frowning. Then he blinked. “Oh! I can see how you would think that, from the way I said it.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry everyone. Take a breath. I don’t think he has quite enough power to take control of that thing from such a distance. At least not yet. No. That would have been bad, though.” His tone grew serious again. “What we are facing is bad enough as it is.”

“Then what is it?” Maryanne growled, not amused.

“One of his servants,” the wizard said. “I’m not sure who, but it felt female. Perhaps one of his old high priestesses. Whoever they are, they have very powerful bewitching magic.”

“And earth magic,” Fist added, thinking of the rock house.

“And air,” said Maryanne, fingering her wounded cheek.

“And they have a seemingly endless supply of slaves and beasts being sent from Khalpany to feed this evil,” Locksher said. “They’ve opened up one of the old passes through the mountains that was blockaded after the last great war.”

Fist nodded in understanding. “That’s how she can continue to lose scores of them every day fighting the Thunder People.”

“She arrived fairly recently,” Locksher added. “I caught just a glimpse of the operation before she noticed me looking. This is why we need the academy and Mage School up here right away. She could send an army of dead out into the rest of Dremaldria at any time.”

Lyramoor looked up at the dark clouds above. “Unfortunately we can’t wait this storm out. We’re going to have to head back now before she sends more creatures after us.”

There was a rumbling noise from the lake behind them as if in agreement.

“I can do it,” Rufus assured them happily.

The rogue horse grew larger again to accommodate taking all of them at once and the wizard sighed pitifully. “Come along, everyone. I’ll strap us on.”

The grassy valley was broad and bowl-shaped and treeless. The bottom was a shallow grassy marshland fed by a stream that poured out of the edges of the Troll Swamps. The water was no deeper than a foot in most places and the marsh was full of small fish and frogs and was loud with the buzz of flies and other insects.

The armies began arriving a few days before the meeting and the border line of the two nations was marked with white painted stakes that were driven into the ground. Tensions were bound to be high and both sides were ordered to remain a fair distance from the line at all times. Camps were set up and units formed.

As per the terms of the agreement Xedrion had sent back with his messenger, Roo-Tan men travelled to the center of the valley and built a wide wooden platform in the midst of the shallow marsh. This is where the leaders of the two nations would meet to discuss the details of the treaty. On the water, but not in the water. A compromise since so many of the protector’s counsellors were wary of the merpeople and their affinity for water magic.

The Mer-Dan had wanted a large tent to cover the meeting, but Xedrion had objected. He wanted the terms discussed in the open, in full view of both armies. The Mer-Dan countered with a concern that a sudden rainstorm could come in and destroy the treaty documents. Another compromise was struck. The Roo-Tan raised four large poles around the platform and stretched a piece of canvas above the platform, providing shade and a modicum of protection from the elements.

When Justan arrived with Xedrion’s party on the day of the meeting, both armies were already staged and waiting. It was an awesome sight. Twenty thousand Roo-Dan savages on one side of the valley, their skin painted in various colors, small troops of armored demons scattered through their ranks.  On the other side, twenty thousand Roo-Tan warriors, archers and infantry, their ranks bristling with Jharro weapons.

The centuries of enmity between them had caused an air of thick tension that was palpable across the valley. Justan had seen large forces meet in battle before at the academy during the siege and later at the battle for the Mage School. But he didn’t want to imagine what this would be like, two forces so evenly matched.

War is an awful business
, said Artemus from within the bond.
Always best to avoid it if one can.

The last few weeks had been good for the spirit of Justan’s great grandfather. Justan had stayed away from the grove as much as he could and Artemus had been able to gain more and more control over the Scralag. It was a gradual process, and Justan devoted as much time to it as he could, conversing with Artemus and keeping him thinking. The old wizard hoped that he would be fully in control of himself by the time they were able to return to the Mage School and he could finally be reunited with his old wife Sarine.

Justan hoped he wouldn’t need Artemus’ help sooner. “I so want this treaty to work,” he said.

Me too
, said Gwyrtha from underneath him. The rogue horse loved a good battle but she was gentle at heart. She had no desire to see a mass slaughter.

Success is doubtful
, said Deathclaw, walking at Gwyrtha’s side. The raptoid’s face was a constant mask of irritation. His senses were disturbed by the close proximity of so many humans.
The enemy is treacherous
.

Deathclaw’s supposition was probably correct. The gnome warlord didn’t come all the way to Malaroo just to broker a dispute between two peoples that had nothing to do with his country. Tarah said that he wished to conquer the grove, but did not necessarily plan to do so through bloodshed. He also didn’t plan to destroy it, which told Justan that he likely wanted to mine it for its resources. Possibly Jharro sap for potions and wood to provide weapons for his armies.

Justan was certain that particular goal was somewhere at the heart of this meeting. He was also certain that Xedrion would never give in to such demands. Not after so long keeping any foreigners from coming near the holy place.

Once again, Justan wondered why the Prophet wasn’t here. The grove was within his realm of responsibility. He had told Tarah there were other places that needed his help, but what could be more important than a meeting that could possibly decide the future of the grove?

One thing that I learned through the years is that it does no good trying to understand the priorities of the Prophet
, Artemus said.
John is a complicated man with a point of view it is impossible for a common man to relate to. Just know that, though John is fallible, his mistakes are rare and when he does err it is never on the side of evil. IF he felt that his attention was needed more elsewhere, then it is a dire situation indeed
.

I suppose you’re right
, Justan said.
It’s just so hard knowing that he could come in here and single handedly make sure things turned out right
.

You don’t know that to be the case. The Prophet’s presence often complicates things as much as it helps
, Artemus replied with a dry chuckle.
When he’s around, people fear to make any decisions without asking him first. This is why he has few friends and rarely stays in one place for a long period of time. It’s a lonely life
.

Justan realized that was true. Even during the siege of the Mage School, he came and went, always on some errand or another. Perhaps that was a secondary reason he hadn’t stayed.

As Xedrion’s procession reached the valley’s edge, the army parted to allow him through to the center platform. Four of the protector’s sons led the procession. Sen, Qurl, Fleen and Jhexin. He had left his oldest remaining son Hubrin in charge in Roo-Tan’lan along with the rest of his children in case the Mer-Dan planned some sort of attack on the city while they were away. Xedrion walked behind them with his first wife, Herlda at his right arm. On his left walked Tolynn, her petite frame covered in a shifting armor of Jharro wood. Jhonate and two of her sisters walked behind them.

Justan and his bonded, along with Tarah and her companions were forced to stay at the outskirts of the army. As outsiders, they were there in a supportive role only. Justan exchanged encouraging glances with Jhonate before the ranks of soldiers closed behind her.

Do not worry for me, Justan
, she said, sending her thoughts through the Jharro ring she had given him.
If there is treachery, I am not so easy to kill
.

It is not you that I am worried for. When this thing’s over, you might be the only one left standing
, he replied.

On the other side of the valley, the Mer-Dan army began to part as their procession arrived.

“There he is,” said Tarah with a glare as she watched the Mer-Dan procession descend to the valley floor. Aloysius stood head and shoulders higher than the Mer-Dan representatives that walked beside him.

The gnome warlord’s scholarly white robes looked a bit bulky on him today and he was wearing a jeweled circlet. What pompous arrogance. He was ruler of no country, yet he carried himself like a king.

 For perhaps the tenth time this week, she fantasized about attempting an assassination. Esmine’s powers would make her invisible, she could sneak into the enemy army, draw her bow and fire an invisible arrow into the gnome’s back. He wouldn’t see it coming. No one would know that it wasn’t fired from someone in his own army.

Only Tarah knew that her papa and grampa wouldn’t approve. Her papa would have objected on moral grounds and Rolf because of the reputation she would gain. If she was still hearing their voices in her head, Rolf would have said,
Tarah Woodblade does what has to be done, but she ain’t no assassin
. And they would both be right in this case. Killing the gnome wasn’t a necessity at this point.

Aloysius had killed Esmine and started a war among his own people, but he hadn’t yet done anything to prove he was attempting the same thing here. She had only found the one track of his and, though the gnome had conquering on his mind, Sir Edge had poked enough holes in the evidence that even she was doubting it. None of the enemy tracks she had found since had supported her surety that the gnome planned an attack. The Roo-Dan warriors, though ever ready to fight if needed, were actually hopeful for the treaty to be signed.

“Look at his robes, Djeri,” she said. “Do they look a bit bulky to you?”

The dwarf squinted a bit as he peered across the valley towards the Mer-Dan procession. “Yeah. I think so. Like he’s wearing something under them. That’s not a good sign, but I doubt he’s planning on doing any attacking himself. That doesn’t seem to be his way. Maybe it’s just armor. He might be thinking assassination attempt.”

Tarah’s little dream of killing him with an invisible arrow died. “I think I’ll warn Tolynn anyway.” She sent the elf a message through the wristband she wore,
Watch out for the gnome. He’s wearing something under those robes
.

I shall keep that under advisement
, the elf replied.
But do not contact me through the wood again unless the reason is urgent
.

Yes, ma’am,
Tarah replied, frowning.

“You want me to go over there and scare him?” Esmine suggested, her child-like form appearing next to Tarah. “I could make him think he was on fire. That would be funny.”

Tarah had to admit, that did sound amusing. Still, she had to decline. “No, Esmine. He’s too smart. He’d figure out who was behind it. It’s best that he not find out about your powers.”

If he didn’t already know. It was an open secret that both the Roo-Tan and Roo-Dan had spies in each other’s camps. Xedrion made a point of finding out who the Roo-Dan spies were, then giving them false information. That was another disturbing thing. None of the spies had reported any sign of deception in the Mer-Dan commanders. They all seemed to be taking this treaty seriously.

“Maybe Tolynn will do it for us,” Esmine suggested. “She is fast. He could not stop her.”

“Perhaps. I doubt he has any defense for the things she can do,” Tarah said. She had casually suggested as much to her elf trainer just that morning. Tolynn replied that she would never attack during a veil of peace. But she hadn’t discounted the idea if there was treachery.

“You sure are feeling bloodthirsty today,” Djeri remarked, raising an eyebrow. He could only hear one side of the conversation, but he had a way of knowing Tarah’s thoughts. It was as if he understood her just by looking at her. “Have you given thought to the possibility that they might actually come to an agreement down there?”

“No,” she admitted. “I might not have proof, but there is no way that Aloysius doesn’t have some evil plan in mind. I just hope we get him when he tries it.”

Djeri gave her a reproachful look. “You know what you’re hoping for, right? If something goes wrong down there, these forty thousand people are going to war. No matter how it goes, that’s a lot of death. Is that what you want?”

“Well . . . no.” Tarah scowled, feeling guilty. “They should change your name from Djeri the Looker to Djeri the no fun . . . er.”

“I’m just saying have some perspective,” the dwarf said, putting his arm around her. He squeezed her close. “There will be another chance to take him down no matter what happens today. There is a lot at stake here.”

“Yeah. I know,” she said and squeezed him back. Still, she didn’t take her eyes off that gnome.

Xedrion bin Leeths wore his full set of Jharro armor this day. It resembled pieces of plate armor in many ways. Unlike the flowing way that the elves wore the wood, his armor was segmented consisting of breastplate, shoulder pauldrons, bracers, thigh plates and greaves. He also carried a helmet, which was tucked under one arm. He wouldn’t put it on unless he was ready to do battle. He hoped to avoid that this day.

He paused just before he reached the valley floor so that his children could move to the side and join the infantry lines. Only Herlda and Tolynn would be accompanying him to the meeting. If fighting began, his children would not be on the front lines, but they would be close. It was a sign of faith for his men.

Xedrion continued to the valley floor, where a ramp had been built crossing the short distance across the marsh to the center platform. He stepped onto the ramp and turned to face his army. Xedrion wasn’t a man for flowery speeches. He was a man who led by example and in fifty years as protector he had never let his people down.