Morigu: Book 01 - The Desecration Page 24

  Looking behind her, Bronwen saw that there was a cliff wall behind them. It is a masking spell, she realized, one that covered the entrances to the tunnel.

  The valley they found themselves in was tiny. It was all rock and dirt with no trees in sight. A path led up the side of the valley, where a structure could be seen. It was comprised of a wall with four grim towers, and a single gate that was lowered over a chasm of two hundred feet. All they could see inside the walls was a large grey dome that peeked over the side walls.

  The wolves raced up and stopped at the lowered drawbridge. Quickly the four dismounted. The wolves turned and sped back the way they had come, making no noise. Three figures stood at the other side of the bridge. They were cloaked in grey and seemed to blend into the walls behind them.

  "We have waited for you," said the tallest one. "We bid you welcome to the temple of the Horned God." The three bowed.

  "Well," said Mearead, walking toward the mysterious figures, "no doubt about it. This is the place."

  On the fifth morning of the siege the sun once again could not break through the barrier of clouds. The smoke from fires and magics created a dense second layer that made the day even gloomier. Arianrood, High Priestess of Fealoth, Queen of Aes Lugh, Ead, stretched her bare arms to the solemn sky. She stared at Tolan, her eyes two green beacons drawn to the red glare of Teague's barrier. Even she could not pierce that barrier. 'But there are ways,' she said to herself, 'there are always ways.'

  "General," she called. A creature all brown scales and fangs walked up to her. He towered over her, his armor made of stretched human skin. They stood on a stark scorched hill, a small stunted and burned tree their only companion. Arianrood stared up at the demon, her naked body pale and ethereal in the dim morning haze.

  "Tell the Fudiaacha (ravisher) to go to the main gate, and assemble a strong force there."

  The demon bobbed his head. He took a step back. "But mistress, the gate is..."

  Her hair sparked with green. "I know about the gate, fool. I will banish the spell that protects it." The creature made a hasty retreat. "And general," she called, "tell him to kill Lonnlarcan if he tries to bar his way again." She watched the shambling monstrosity make a hasty retreat. A smile formed on her lips. 'One day all creatures will fear me so,' she thought. She heard the rattle of a dark chain in her mind. 'All creatures,' she emphasized.

  A moment later she felt the quiver in the air that meant her sorcerers were renewing their attacks against the city. She watched as lines of power arced toward Tolan shattering uselessly against the dome of power the elf lords maintained. She saw a grey mist hundreds of yards across drift slowly toward the south side of the capital. Immediately new lines of power, this time from the city, raced to intercept the mist. It slowed, but continued. Arianrood nodded her head. This was her signal to begin her magics for the Shadow Lord had begun his attack.

  She squatted down, her hand tracing the foot-long piece of stone that lay there. It had been taken from the wall of the city. This was her key to destroying the barrier. Next to it lay a bowl filled with a dark red gore. Dipping in it a bone that had been whittled to a quill, she began to trace designs on the rock. Her voice rose up in a singsong chant as she began.

  In the city, Bairbre, the three remaining elf mages and the Shee, Dermot, sat at a round table. Their hands were clasped and their eyes closed. On the table was a circle of nine black candles surrounding a circle of five white candles which surrounded three translucent candles, and in the middle of the candles was a miniature of the whole city. The miniature rested about five inches off the table and was surrounded by a transparent globe like a soap bubble. This was the power shield that had been placed completely around Tolan. Tiny flashes of color above and below the miniature city showed where the enemy tried to break through. The attacks were intensifying and all five of the elves were drenched in sweat as they fought to keep the barrier intact.

  At one place a red glow showed faint and in perfect perspective on the miniature. The bubble's ends turned in at the point and met the red barrier, for the red was Teague and his power was melded with the other elves.

  Deep in the emperor's castle's bowels a man crept silently. There were no guards here. All were needed on the walls. The man, bent and grey, moved to the end of a black corridor where two great doors stood. These doors had no handle, no way of opening. He rested two hands against them for a moment, then the hands pushed through as if they were going through a fog. The body followed until the figure stood on the other side of the doors.

  He took a long shuddering breath at the sight that met his eyes, the sigh of two lovers when first they confront each other's nakedness.

  The room was full of statues and paintings. Draperies, rugs, wall hangings of gorgeous design cluttered every inch of space. The intruder danced down the long aisles. Here were neat stacks of precious ores, there a chest of jewels and diamonds. The room was filled with incredible wealth. It was the storehouse of the empire. The man laughed, the sound reverberating about the gigantic room.

  He began to talk to himself as he touched first one and then another treasure.

  "Oh, so crafty," he hissed, "so sly." His hand caressed a statue. "Want my help, eh, no, demand it! Well, not so smart Black One because this time I will outsmart you all." He cackled to himself, rubbing his hands together like some demented miser counting his monies.

  The intruder continued along until he found a hall filled with doors. He went to the end of this and entered the last door as he had entered the great chamber before. Inside he found a room some fifty by twenty feet.

  "Perfect," he whispered, though there was no one to hear. "Perfect." He closed his eyes and flew to his consciousness so many miles away. There he gathered strength and reformed as the bent cowled figure.

  He reached inside his cloak and withdrew a large object some three feet by one. It was egg-shaped. The color was ebony streaked with white lines. That the intruder had hidden the large object in his cloak was an indication of his power. To change dimensions for a material object is a dangerous and costly magic and therefore seldom used.

  This room was filled with paintings stacked against the wall. Almost all the floor space was covered by old statues. The figure, still holding the black object, walked to the door and placed the object down gently. He reached out and twisted the handle of the door. Three darts shot from the door and passed harmlessly through the figure. He picked up the object again and walked into the large room.

  There he chose a chest full of precious rubies and emeralds. He placed the object on top and returned to the smaller room bearing both effortlessly. He deposited the chest in the far corner of the room. He took out the black object and scooped up much of the chest's contents. Then he placed the object inside. He covered it completely with the jewels. The intruder closed the lid of the chest then intoned several words of power over it. Covering the chest with paintings the figure stood and observed its handiwork with delight.

  "Sly," he said aloud. "Very clever. Stupid bastards, I'll have you this time." The creature retreated to outside the room and closed the door behind him. Once again he intoned words of power, this time with visible results, for where once an iron reinforced door had stood, now there was a grey blank wall. Chuckling his delight, the man left the great chamber leaving everything the way it was, except for the room where the egg lay.

  In a tower far above the treasure chamber, Lonnlarcan stared at the reposed body of Cainhill. All evidence of the wounds had disappeared and his chest rose slowly with breath. Cainhill's eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

  The Ard Riegh rubbed his eye. Though the elf lord yet lived, who knew what the bite of the undead lord would do?

  Cainhill's skin held a sick yellow hue, but the healers had assured Lonnlarcan that his cousin's body was completely cured. Yet Cainhill made no response to any of them. The king shook his silver head in sorrow as he left the room. So it was that he did not see the elf lord's hand twitch and hi
s head cock as if he was listening to a voice no one else could hear.

  During the next day the magic attacks continued, though the dark army itself did little. A few catapults and such had been built outside the wall and were fired at the city with little result. All day long, Arianrood stayed upon the bleak hill working her magic. As the sun set, she stood up and had in her hands the piece of stone covered with runes. She held this up to the night sky and spoke in a harsh tongue.

  "Rock to stone, muscle to vein, like to like." Her body began to sway back and forth. "This is the Fuiea Fulteak of the Ead, time has passed, time will pass, time for stone and flesh." The stone in her hand began to glow white and red. "Feel the age. I name you Ageriach! Feel the age, Goisterass! The stone began to crumble at the edges.

  "Age, time--it makes you brittle. It saps your blood. It drains your soul. Sierrach!" she cried in a loud voice. "It is your time! Seaetheadfay!" She screamed the last word, and as she did the rock in her hand crumbled to dust.

  All along the frame of the great gate, the rock that formed it began to crumble and fall to the ground. Teague, in his no-feeling, no-thought state, did not know what was passing. The barrier that was him spread to the firmer parts of the wall, but they too crumbled. Faster and faster until two feet on either side had already fallen and the top of the gate began to deteriorate from underneath.

  In the tower room where the elf mages sat, they felt Arianrood's attack on the gate. Opening their eyes, they looked in horror at the miniature as the red glow of Teague's barrier spread itself thinner and thinner. Bairbre called for her lord with no voice and Lonnlarcan came.

  In a moment, he took it all in and tore toward the front gate. The others intensified their efforts at fortifying the walls, but they were already tired and the other attacks from the enemy continued unabated.

  By the time Lonnlarcan made it to the gate, eight feet on either side had crumbled and a bare five feet remained over the top of the gate. Mathwei, Niall, and Oidean skidded to a stop and stared up at the gate barrier that was thinning every moment.

  "My lord," Mathwei was out of breath. The Ard Riegh did not even turn to him. "We, Oidean and I, felt the attack. Can we do something?"

  Lonnlarcan turned to the warrior; his elven eyes saw the potential of magic in him. The old one seemed to be a red burning flame. It quickly passed the elf king's mind that he meant to question that one further, but there was no time.

  "We must stop the walls from crumbling or Teague will be torn apart." Several elf lords came running up. 'What I would do for a dwarf now,' thought Lonnlarcan.

  "Hudden," he said to one of his lords. "Take the colonel and this old man and all the others you can find. Do a simple reinforcement spell on the stone and use their energy to fortify it. I will try to bring Teague to consciousness, before he is destroyed."

  Mathwei and the others raced for the stairs as Lonnlarcan placed Kianbearac point first next to where the red barrier touched the ground. He went on one knee and sent his mind through the spear into the barrier to retrieve Teague's consciousness.

  The others reached the top and at the elf lord Hudden's instructions placed their palms upon the battlement floor. Quickly he spoke a spell and all there felt a tingling in their palms and a tugging. The crumbling beneath them slowed, but did not stop.

  Below, Lonnlarcan slowly gathered the elements of what was Teague. He only needed a few moments and he could free the mage from his own spell. The upper walls and all along the top of the frame had almost completely stopped their deterioration, as more elves hurried to add their strength. Niall strode up and down before the gate, sheathing and unsheathing his sword in agony over the thought that he could do nothing.

  In the tower room Bairbre had taken full control over the whole barrier except where the gate was. The other four directed their power there. Suddenly one of the mages cried out.

  "Another presence, it is...." And then she cried in agony as she burst into flame. The bubble around the miniature shattered as the four remaining were blown across the room.

  At the top of the gate some thirty figures knelt on the floor, their full attention to the task of willing strength to the stone.

  They did not see the two great dragon skulls on either side of them begin to bum inside, or the empty eyeholes turn a fierce red. They heard the creaking as the two skulls turned to them but took no notice. The heads pivoted on their great poles that held them until they faced the group of warriors.

  Mathwei felt a cold draft on his left side and turned inquiringly to Oidean, but the old man was engrossed in his task of mumbling words of power. Over the old one's shoulder, the warrior saw a red glow and looked with horror into the red pits of the long-dead dragon. He leapt to his feet and saw the other one likewise watching.

  "'Ware the dragons!" he cried. All turned at his cry even as fire began to appear in the skull snouts. Hudden lifted his arms and a shield of golden light surrounded all there. It was just in time as flame poured from both the mouths. It covered the shield and the heat of it pressed all there to the ground.

  Beneath them, Lonnlarcan was nearly through with his chore when he felt the crumbling of the stone begin again. He cried with despair as he felt Teague's consciousness torn from him as the spell forced the elf mage to try and close the gap.

  Above, the other elves joined their spell barriers to help Hudden, even as they felt the floor shifting beneath their feet.

  Niall, who had headed toward the top to see if he could help, froze in fear when he saw the dragon skulls attack. He could see that the elvish barriers would never hold against the dragon's fire.

  "Hah!" he shouted, "Trollsbane!" He raced up the final steps toward the nearest skull, and brought his great two-handed sword down on the eight-foot snout with his clan's ancient war cry.

  'Ruegal!" Such was the blow that the sword splintered and the great mouth was forced shut as it sought to release another great breath of fire. The skull exploded in flames, destroying it completely, the explosion throwing Niall through the air and almost over the lip of the battlements.

  The elves were able to direct their waning spell barrier against the other dragon skull. They made a scramble to safety before the stone about them gave way, sending them to their deaths below.

  Lonnlarcan cried with anguish as the top of the gate frame finally collapsed. The red barrier tore, reforming into Teague's flesh shredded into pieces. In a quirk of fate, Teague's head had completely reformed to fall at the Ard Riegh's feet.

  With a great crash, part of the wall and the top of the gate frame fell to the ground to mix with the bloody remains of Teague, mage of the elven kind, and with the aged and destroyed rock fell Hudden, the elf lord, and the three others of the elven kind, and the great skull of Ruhtivak was no longer animated, crushed and destroyed like its brother had been by Niall's sword.

  Even as the whole mess crashed at Lonnlarcan's feet, the Fudiaacha, Flannlorc ap Laiche, the Fomarian, led the Dark host toward the great gap that was once the gate of the city. But the charge halted before the rubble of the gate, for there stood Lonnlarcan with the elf host at his back. There was the wrath of the elven kind in their eyes. Behind them, the city took to flames as the Dark Ones' battle magic bombarded the undefended city.

  Mearead and his companions followed their mysterious host into the keep. Inside the thick gate the dome they had glimpsed before stood before them. This, except for a few outbuildings, was the only structure the fortress held. None missed the obvious warlike preparations of the few people they saw. All were cowled like those the companions followed, yet all were heavily armed, and none said a word.

  They followed the three figures into the dome, passing through a thick stone gate. Inside, all was gloom. The few lights were torches set high in the wall of the passage they entered. The passage snaked around the dome structure. Many of the turns were abrupt and held defensive works.

  Mearead was impressed. Even dwarves long used to fighting in cavern and cave would be har
d-pressed to breach these defenses. Every hundred feet or so a passageway would lead off the one they took and the dwarf could see in the dim hallways figures of shadow moving about.

  The hallways went on a long time, and through a steady incline and steep stairs the passage wove its way deeper down into the cliff.

  After nearly an hour of walking the tall figure stopped and spoke.

  "You are about to enter the shrine of the Horned God. It is his will that you be shown this secret that you may know us for what we are." He turned and led them further down, and then he pressed his hand on the left side of the wall. A door appeared and opened at his touch. So cleverly had the door been made that not even Mearead's dwarven eyes had perceived it.

  Again they entered a corridor, this one only wide enough for each to walk singly. This passage had several single steps, each about a foot high, and placed every ten yards or so. Mearead smiled to himself. Such a passage could be held indefinitely against an army. At last the party stopped. Before them stood two great doors, one silver, one of gold.

  "One door leads to death, one to the shrine. They change constantly. Only the Stalkers may know the proper door at any given time," said the one who had spoken before. All three of the cowled figures bowed their heads once and then the tall one pressed the door of silver with one hand. It opened easily and he stepped aside to allow the others to pass. The companions slowly filed in. All was pitch blackness. As Margawt, the last to enter, stepped in the door behind him slammed shut and the companions were left alone.

  "I can't see a bloody thing," Mearead said. His voice reverberated and echoed.

  "It is obviously a large chamber, wherever we are," Donal added. He dug through his pack to find something to light.

  "Is it a trap?" asked Bronwen.

  "Not hardly," answered the dwarf. "They could've taken us anytime along in those passages."