Tides of Blood and Steel (29 page)

“What would you have me do?” Anger flashed behind his eyes.

“Stand up for our people. We are the captains of Delranan.”

Jarrik clenched a fist. “Mind yourself. You may have taken the place of Argis on this council, but you have not risen to his level. Above all we serve the king. Do not forget this. Ever.”

His warning was thinly veiled. Threats and suspicion haunted every corner in their kingdom now. No one was safe from accusations, least of all the once vaunted captains. Scores of people had been rounded up in a massive purge. The people lived in fear. Friend turned in friend, brother betrayed brother. No one knew who might be taken next, but no one wanted to die for protecting someone.

Skaning took it as an insult. “I have been a captain for nearly two years! Argis has nothing to do with that.”

“Of course he does!” Jarrik threw his arms wide. “Argis is the only reason you gained your title so quickly. Harnin is smart enough to remember that. Watch yourself before the One Eye decides to pursue that thought further.”

“I am not worried about Harnin, at least not in that aspect.”

Jarrik halted. Confusion twisted his handsome features. “Why insist on provoking his ire? He is not an enemy worth having.”

“Harnin will be an enemy for as long as he continues this course of action. I cannot control my emotions,” Skaning explained. He leaned closer so that no one else might overhear his next words. “I believe there is more. He does not act alone.”

“What more?” Jarrik’s tone darkened enough to put Skaning on guard.

“Ever since King Badron left, Harnin has become an entirely different man. He craves bloodshed instead of humility. He willingly sacrifices his people chasing shadows. How did this happen so quickly? He was not always such.”

“I don’t believe you,” Jarrik said without conviction. “Harnin is the sole entrusted regent to the throne. Who could possibly be helping him and what is there to gain?”

“I do not know, but think about it. He was always the most rational of us. There was a time, even right after the king’s son was killed, that he wouldn’t have dreamed of harming his own people. What changed? You cannot expect me to believe that Argis is to blame.”

“He leads a rebellion, Skaning. The man is dangerous to Harnin and Delranan.”

“So much of a threat that he warrants all of our attention? The rebellion did not exist before
we
created it.”

“Are you mad? Argis allowed the enemy to breach our defenses and steal the princess. We would not be at war if not for him!”

“You cannot blame it on one man, Jarrik. It took all of us to arrive here. Do not believe, but there is something sinister driving Harnin.”

Jarrik began to pace in tight circles. “Who? What? Without someone to pin the blame on, you only offer baseless claims.”

Skaning exhaled a deep breath. “I have said my piece. Take it for what you will.”

“I want to believe you, I truly do, but our hands are tied unless you can find out who this person is.”

The young captain nodded, almost ashamed he did not have the answers. “I will discover the truth in this.”

They parted without another word. Jarrik watched the younger man leave. Skaning had an air of confidence, like he felt better doing the right thing. Jarrik spat. Right and wrong were terms that offered little in the changing kingdom. He saw Skaning for what he was, a threat. If the boy did discover his imaginary truths, he would need to be dealt with. Jarrik decided to keep a close watch until then.

The Dragon’s Teeth

“This is it.”

Boen stepped past Bahr to stand at the center of his freshest nightmare. Disbelief continued to twist his features with concern. He hadn’t been the same since his encounter with the ghosts of his forefathers. The big man acted skittish when confronted now with the new unknown. Part of him had no desire to carry on, but his heart demanded that he learn the truth of why so many of his blood had been slaughtered so far from home in such a god-awful place. Or perhaps they’d been drawn here by some unexplainable power?

Boen shook his head. Snow fell from his unruly hair. “Can’t be.”

A permanent mist concealed the area. He might have easily led them past here if not for his previous encounter and the urging of the wizard. The old man had been locked in a meditative trance when he suddenly leapt up on the driver’s bench and shouted for them to stop.

Bahr dismissed Boen’s misgivings. “It has to be. Look at the mist. This is the only place we have encountered mist since we got in these mountains. You said so yourself.”

“There was one other,” Boen replied tersely.

Details of the ghosts remained his private memories. It was too personal to share. He searched every shadow, every crevice partially hidden from view. Boen did not want to see them again; his blood still ran cold from their last meeting. Yet disappointment plagued him. He had been wrong. The ghosts did not reappear. Boen felt… alone? Bahr listened, but thought nothing of it. He was convinced they had successfully arrived at the teeth of the dragon.

“The book says we would come to a place where the rocks are tinged in red and form teeth. It will appear as a mouth,” Anienam added.

Boen reluctantly moved towards the nearest rock. He reached out with a gloved hand to touch the porous surface. Flakes of red clung to the worn leather. The rock was easily twice as tall as a man. He squinted into the mists. More rocks choked the area. There was an ancient feel here. Boen resisted the urge to turn and leave.

“I told you,” he said.

Bahr came forward, staring with mouth agape. The rocks were dark red, as if they bled. A hint of a smile shadowed his face. “I’ll be damned.”

“I knew it!” Anienam shouted gleefully. “This is the entrance to the Borgin Pass!”

Dorl Theed passed a sidelong glance to Nothol. “Great, now what do we do?”

He had a valid point. All of their time and energy had been dedicated to finding this mythical marker in the untamed mountains. Now that they had actually succeeded they found themselves at an unexpected crossroads.

“The forge of Giants lies down this road,” the wizard continued.

Growing discomfort continued to spread among them. He needed to stop it and restore a sense of order. They had come far and this was not the time to fracture. Cold mist kissed their exposed skin. Anienam finished whispering his spell and the mist parted long enough for the group to stop deliberating and see the area for what it was. Massive, conical rocks were visible. Most sprang up from the ground while others hung from rock outcroppings. Maleela gasped with awe and shuddered. She felt as if she were standing in a giant maw, about to be devoured.

“It is like a dragon’s mouth,” she whispered.

Bahr turned to stare at her. “What?”

She edged closer. “The rocks, they look like teeth, Uncle.”

An odd feeling of doom clung to them. Ancient and malevolent forces gathered here. She wanted to leave now.

“Perhaps these are a real dragon’s bones,” Nothol suggested.

“Nonsense. There hasn’t been a dragon in this part of Malweir in hundreds of years,” Bahr scoffed.

Anienam clambered down from the wagon to get a better look. Despite all of his experience and travels, he had never been to the Murdes Mountains. The sights around him were astounding. He tentatively, reverently, reached out to touch one of the razor sharp rocks.

“Incredible,” he said admiringly. “Dragons may be rare, but they are not extinct. They are merely sleeping.”

“Asleep? Until when?” Dorl asked.

The wizard offered a tight smile. “Who can say? We are but one insignificant race in a grand world.”

“That has nothing to do with these being actual teeth,” Bahr said, trying to refocus them. “I’m sure the men that wrote your book thought the same things. Wizard, can you be certain this is the correct place?”

“Yes, I believe so. The book is very specific. The mists. The red stones resembling teeth. It all corresponds.”

Pleased with the reply, Bahr said, “Good. We are in the right place.”

“We should be moving,” Boen urged.

Anienam stayed them with a glare. “Not so fast. We don’t know what awaits us down this road. The pass might be filled with traps, or worse.”

“Worse?” Dorl hissed.

“The men who wrote the book never made it beyond this point. Once we leave here, we will be blind.”

“Wizard, those traps will be there regardless of whether we delay or not,” Boen grumbled. Specters leered at him in his mind’s eye.

Anienam conceded the Gaimosian was right, but Anienam had a lurking suspicion they were heading into grave danger. He sighed, but relented. The best thing he could for them all was prepare. Magic might be the only thing that could save their lives in the days to come. He resumed his place on the wagon.

“Stay close to me, Princess. We are not safe yet,” he told Maleela.

She nodded absently. The sheer scope of the mouth went beyond her comprehension. “Do you really think these are bones?”

Anienam smiled warmly. “Bones of the world. There are a few recorded instances of dragons being so large. None in the last two millennia. Whether or not they truly are dragon bones, they are not what we need to worry about.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Giants have had little to do with the rest of Malweir for centuries. No race has had dealings with them. We might not like what we find when we get to Venheim.”

Maleela was about to answer when the faint sound of hammers striking steel drifted across the wind. Her heart erupted with excitement. “Did you hear that, Anienam?”

He exhaled slowly. “Yes, child. I hear them. Venheim.”

“We are all dead,” Ionascu moaned. He threw his hands up and cursed Harnin One Eye for forcing him into this position.

“Be quiet,” Anienam scoffed. “We’ve made it this far. Have faith and it will carry us the rest of the way.”

Ionascu simmered hotly. “Faith in what?”

The wizard offered no answer. In what, indeed.

“Close up and move out,” Bahr ordered. “These Giants are real. Let’s get this hammer and be about our business.”

He tapped his heel to his horse’s flank and the tiny band lurched forward. Time had run out. All of the deliberation and second guessing was at an end. Bahr didn’t particularly care to confront a clan of Giants. He’d already been through enough since accepting the quest to rescue Maleela. Doubts racked his mind. The question of whether they had rescued or damned his niece haunted him. Harnin’s betrayal led him to believe they had all been duped.

He might have laughed if the moment were not so grim. Here, in the Mountains of Death, he and his small band were on an impossible quest to claim an ancient weapon and destroy an undying evil. Their chances were slim. Part of him wished he had kicked the damned wizard out of his home when he had the chance. Events might have turned out differently, though he somehow doubted it. Bahr shook his head. Things happened for a reason.

“What do you suppose these Giants are like?” he asked Boen quietly.

He and the Gaimosian weren’t the closest of friends, but each had come to rely on the other’s strengths. Boen had candor and the tactical experience that dwarfed the rest of the group. “We’ll find out once we get to Venheim.”

“Do you think there will be a fight?”

Boen flashed a toothy grin. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Bahr didn’t know if he was actually joking or not, but the question was disturbing. Boen had a way of simplifying even the most complex affair. The hammering sound grew louder. Bahr detected a musical quality in it, suggesting master craftsmanship. He never dreamed he might hear the song of the hammers in the wind. He was about to reply when two massive figures broke through the mists and blocked the pass. The mist distorted them, making them seem even larger than they were. Rocks and snow tumbled from the slopes.

“Swords!” Boen bellowed.

He glanced at Bahr, surprised to find the Sea Wolf in shock. The figures marched closer.

“Who dares trespass on this sacred ground?”

The voice was as deep as the crash of thunder. Boen staggered as the ground trembled beneath him. His heart threatened to quail. They wouldn’t stand a chance against these two monsters. The Gaimosian smirked and readied to meet death. The mist swirled like angry lovers around the figures. A sharp screech filled the muffled air. They’ve drawn swords, Boen thought.

“Answer us,” the second voice demanded.

Anienam jumped down and slipped in front of Boen. His arms were held up. There was youthful vigor to his words and movements. “Wait! We are not enemies! There is no call for violence here. I am a friend of your people.”

“You are violators and must be punished for your impudence.”

“I had hoped it would not come to this,” Anienam whispered under his breath.

His mouth moved without sound. Anienam clapped his hands as hard as he could. The pass filled with unnatural energies. The air bore a tainted green hue. A sharp wind screamed out from his fingertips. It tore into the mists, shredding the veil around the two figures. Surprise registered across their massive faces.