Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf (3 page)

Hawkeye grabbed the begging man’s hair and placed his knife’s razor sharp edge at the man’s throat. “This is the last time I'll ask you! Where is Blackfang?”

Twenty breaths passed and the begging man said nothing. Hawkeye pressed his blade harder against his throat and saw the first drops of blood begin to fall from his neck. Lowering his face until he was right in his ear, his tone grew colder. “I don’t have all day! Speak now or die!”

The crippled man cracked. “Okay! Don’t kill me! I’ll tell you all I know!”

Pulling his knife away slowly, Hawkeye raked the bloody edge across the man’s cheek. “I’m waiting.”

“Blackfang took some of the men north into the forest to chase some elf bitch. We were to stay here just in case she doubled back.”

Hawkeye pointed around with his knife. “What happened here?”

“These elves invaded our home and we gave chase. We didn’t expect them to put up much of a fight but they had mighty magic and drove us back. Blackfang’s witch countered with sorcery of her own which broke them. We moved in to finish them off and to search for prisoners.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Hawkeye dropped all his weight onto one knee. Unfortunately for the crippled man, it was onto the leg with Hawkeye’s arrow still lodged in it.

The injured barbarian yelped in pain. “I....I swear it’s the truth! That’s all I know!”

Reaching down with his left hand, Hawkeye wrenched free his arrow.

The crippled man screamed in pain.

Taking a moment to examine his arrow, Hawkeye frowned. The shaft was spilt making the arrow useless but he pulled free the silver arrowhead and tossed the rest to the ground. Turning to retrieve his tomahawk from the corpse of the second wolf, he wiped its blade on the dead wolf’s fur.

“I would suggest that you make yourself very scarce. I’m sure Blackfang would be upset if he found out you talked.” 

Holding one hand over his wound as he desperately tried to stem the flow of blood, the crippled man rocked back and forth in pain. Through gritted teeth, he cursed. “You son of a bitch! Blackfang will gnaw on your bones when he’s through with you.”

Ignoring the wounded man, Hawkeye turned his attention back to the injured elves and was surprised to see that the elf with the blue hair had watched his inquisition of the bandit without a word. Elves were known across Terreth as having an intense hatred for violence.

The blue haired elf was standing with bandages wrapped around his leg and chest area, they were bloody but not leaking. Leaning on him for support was another elf, so similar in looks that they had to be brothers, twins by the look of it. Judging from the hastily applied bandage, his twin must’ve sustained a nasty head injury along with injuries to his torso and leg.

The blue haired elf placed his right hand over his heart and gave a slight bow. “Well met Kamots Hawkeye, son of Luna. I am Khlekluëllin Amarth.” He gestured to the injured warrior at his side. “And this is my brother Mortharona; we are in your debt.”

Hawkeye noted that even though the elf’s name ‘Klek – clue – ellen’ sounded slightly harsh compared to his brother’s it still flowed off his tongue easily as did most words when spoken with the musical vocalization of the elven dialect.

 Khlekluëllin turned to the dwarf. “And yours master dwarf. It has been a long time since a dwarf has aided an elf.”

Rjurik took a bite out of a block of tobacco. “Well, don’t go makin’ much of it.” With a nod over his head at Hawkeye he added, “If it weren’t fer the youngin’ I would’ve passed ye by.”

Hawkeye placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Now Rjurik that isn’t true and you know it.” He turned back to the elves. “You must forgive my friend, Rjurik isn’t much for strangers.”

“Bah,” the dwarf said with a scowl and a spit. “Don’t go puttin’ words in me mouth; I say what I say, no more an’ no less.”

Hawkeye gestured to the injured werewolf behind him. “How much of what this idiot said was true?”

Scratching his chin, Khlekluëllin smiled slightly. “I am sure from his point of view, all of it. But explanations shall have to wait; my sister is missing.”

The evening air was broken by the howls of several wolves as somewhere in the distance a wolf pack had caught the scent of its prey.

Hawkeye looked to the north then back at the two elves. “You have no chance of reaching her in time but I can.” He turned his attention back to his friend. “Take them to the tower. I will go after their sister.”

Poking his stubby fingers into Hawkeye’s gut, Rjurik grumbled. “Now you listen ya big lummox! If ye do this, ye do this. Don’t go seeking your vengeance at her expense. Save her if ye can but don’t go gettin’ yourself kilt over a damn elf.”

“Don’t worry old friend. I’ll be back before dawn. Have a fire going and cook some of that boar. It would be a shame to let that meat go to waste.” 

Without another word, Hawkeye sprinted off to the north as the late autumn sun was just fading behind the mountains in the west.

Shadows moved at the edge of the forests while numerous large carrion birds began circling the recent battlefield. Nature was just waiting for its dinner. For in nature and especially in the Highlands, only the strong survive for long.

The rocky canyon walls echoed with the howling wind as it bit hungrily at the heavily cloaked riders. With heads lowered and faces covered against the swirling leaves and flying dust, they hardly noticed the barren landscape. As they wound their way single file following the banks of a rushing river, the once vibrant forest was blackened with death and decay.  Only the water remained clear and bright, seemingly untouched by the evil that was poisoning the land.

The leader’s horse stopped abruptly as the rider raised her hand to signal those who followed behind.  “We are close,” she rasped, her normally musical voice gritty from the swirling dust. Turning in the saddle, she gazed at her companions. “We shall walk from here.”

The dark warrior riding just behind her quickly slid from his saddle and moved forward to aid her dismount. The rest of the party followed with painful grunts and a few curse words.

A red bearded dwarf in particular began to grumble almost immediately.  “What in the name of the Nine Hells are we doing in this god-forsaken canyon?”

Ignoring the complaints and without waiting to see if any of her companions followed, the black cloaked rider lead the way around a slight bend in the canyon before stopping.

The river ended in a box canyon with the mountains blocking out the horizon and a huge waterfall crashed down with a deafening roar. Although the view of the waterfall was spectacular, it was not what the party had traveled many days to view.

Perched high atop the cliff, straddling the waterfall was a mighty fortress of black rock. It was dark and foreboding and seemed to glisten in the fading light. With the ever-lengthening shadows around them, the dead forest began to appear more threatening while the only sound was that of the howling wind and the crashing water. 

Planting his axe and setting his jaw, the red bearded dwarf shook his head. “There is no way this side of the Abyss that I’m going in there!”

Lalith had been expecting this type of response from a member of her party and nodded her head back the way they came. Moving behind an outcropping of rocks which blocked the majority of the noise from the waterfall, Lalith faced her opponent. “What’s the matter Gram?  Are you afraid?”

Shaking his head, Gram gestured with his axe to the land around them. “There be evil in this land. Don’t ya be feelin’ it?”

Calmly unwrapping her face, Lalith let the fading sunlight wash over her features. Her skin was creamy white with the pointed ears that marked her as an elf, the self-appointed protectors of nature. She flashed Gram a dazzling smile and pulled forth an ancient scroll from under her cloak. Unrolling it slowly, she pointed to an area on the map.

“We discussed this back in Asylum when I recruited you. Each of you have certain skills and abilities needed for this quest.”

Gesturing to a large oak tree with limbs reaching out over the rushing river, Lalith frowned at the sight of the decaying tree. “This was once a beautiful place. I used to run along the limbs of that tree in my youth. It saddens my heart to see this land wither and die.”

Gram and the others glanced from the ancient oak, back to the face of their leader.

Lalith absentmindedly fingered an amulet of an eight pointed star that hung on her neck. “I have searched long and hard for the source of the corruption. A few decades back I came upon a prophecy that foretells the coming of an ancient evil.” She gestured to the surrounding landscape. “This corruption is just the beginning of the dark times to come. We are all outcasts from our own people. I know much about each of you.”

Lalith pointed at the dwarf. “Gram, you were cast out of Darkmoor because you disagreed with the king.”

She turned her attention to the huge Minotaur warrior. “Jax was exiled because he refused to kill his best friend when he was wrongly accused of a crime.”

She pointed at the halfling. “And Quglie had to leave his homeland quickly because of a misunderstanding concerning the ownership of some certain jewels.”

Caressing the arm of the dark haired warrior at her side, she frowned. “Darnac and I were cast out of Elfholm because our love was forbidden by the Queen. In short, we are all warriors whose only home is the road but none of us have forgotten where we came from nor would we pass up a chance to return home. Correct?”

Gram glanced at his companions. Jax just nodded and Quglie shrugged his shoulders in resignation. Gaining confidence from his unspoken allies Gram said, “Aye. What you say is true but that don’t explain why we are here.”

Lalith pointed at the black fortress atop the waterfall. “We have to enter that accursed place if we are to rid this forest of corruption. Besides, if the stories of the treasures buried deep inside are true, each of us will become wealthy beyond our wildest dreams.”

Quglie spoke up for the first time in days, his voice was high pitched and childlike. “I like treasure as much as anyone alive but no hoard is ever left unguarded.”

Lalith smiled briefly. “So true; we will have to face traps both magical and mundane. And ancient writings tell of sleepless guardians that block the entrance.”

“Bah! Undead!” Gram spit in the dirt. “I hate the undead!”

Lalith shrugged her shoulders. “No one knows for certain what that passage means only that we should be prepared for anything.”

Lalith continued. “Remember the ancient prophecy, when the Darkness returns from whence it was banished and the Gods are helpless to act, look to the north for the Chosen One; a being of no race and all races, part black, part white, a creature of the balance, a true son of the Dhyana who will lead the Nine against the One in the final battle for the fate of Terreth for only he can unlock the secrets of the past.” 

Gram scratched his red beard. “We all have heard the prophecy Lalith but you’re asking us to risk our lives based solely upon your faith and your interpretation. There is no guarantee that this corruption has anything to do with that prophecy.”

Glancing back at the tower entrance, Lalith rolled her eyes. She was close. She could feel it. It had taken her one hundred and twelve years to get this close. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to her companions and once again gently fingered the magical amulet around her neck.  When she next spoke, her words carried with them a slight enchantment making her words seem sweeter, more persuasive and more calming. Each warrior’s mind became filled with visions as she spoke of dark futures.

“I understand your concerns and I agree with them but for the fate of all the land we must proceed. What if the tales are true and the Great Darkness is about to be reborn?  War will soon come to all of Terreth. Brother will fight brother and father against son as the great darkness sweeps out of the north feasting on all that we hold dear. Should we stand idly by and watch as our homelands are burned to the ground as our friends, families and children are made slaves of the Great Enemy? If we turn back now, what would we say to our children if this comes to pass? And yet, we knew in our hearts that we had a chance to stop it but we turned away in fear? What would we say? And even if I am wrong and this isn’t the source of corruption, what of the treasures buried inside? What good could we do with the gold and jewels that are surely in there waiting to be discovered?”

Releasing the amulet, Lalith ended her spell and waited. For several minutes each warrior reeled under the visions of the dark times ahead for their families and friends. Of course, the gleam of untold riches reflected in their eyes. Judging from the looks on their faces and the tears in their eyes, Lalith knew she had them even before they spoke. 

Gram was the first to regain his wits.  Hefting his axe onto his shoulder, he cast a quick glance at his companions. Each nodded his head in turn. “Well Lalith since you put it that way, we’re in.  What’s next?”

Lalith pointed to her horse. “There is a wineskin in my left saddlebag. We shall need it.”

Gram raised a bushy eyebrow. “Why? What’s in it?”

A serious look crossing her face, Lalith looked toward the blocked entrance.  “It contains a magical elixir that will bolster your courage and enhance your vision. At one point, if we get deep enough, we will have to enter the tunnel of darkness. We cannot chance a light once we’re inside it.” 

Nodding his head, Gram retrieved the wineskin and rejoined the group. Following single file, the party made their way around the lake and across the slippery stones until they were behind the mighty waterfall. The crashing water filled the air with spray and mist until every member was soaked to the bone without ever having set foot in the water. Finding a small pathway chiseled into the rock, the party crept up the rocky slopes to a small cave nestled about a quarter of the way up the cliff but a massive stone door blocked further movement.

Approaching the great slab of rock, Lalith began to chant something in a language that none in the party knew. As the wind continued to howl and blow, the companions stood solid and resolute as they waited for their fearless leader to open the entrance. Lifting her hands high into the air, the wind began to whip around her, building in fury and intensity. Soon, it resembled a small tornado.