The Necklace of Zedan
Chapter 23
A chilly breeze sweeps into the midst of the figures waiting outside the castle gates. All but Thadden seem content to wait patiently. The thief however, is not one to stand still for very long. His fits of impatience, the constant walking in circles, cause the guards at the gate to watch him cautiously. As they finger their weapons nervously, a trumpet blares.
"Make way for the beautiful Queen Tyrella!” All the guards drop to one knee and bow their heads. A hush falls over the crowd of warriors, as the Queen walks towards the gate with Menecha in tow. Menecha's face is flushed. She starts to smoothen out her dress and then realizes that she is not wearing a dress. She is a warrioress now, and the armor and weapons that she is carrying brutally remind her. Her eyes try and probe past the gate to see a certain rogue with a cat by his side. Her heart begins to jackhammer. It pounds and pounds at her insides and begs to be let out. With grim determination, she is able to keep it in its cage. As she nears the gate, she spots the thief named Thadden. Forcing all emotion down, she restrains herself from running to the thief and burying her face in his chest. It is her duty to be beside the Queen. Holding back the tears, she stares numbly into Thadden's eyes. Menecha has come to know patience, and knows that in time, the right time, she will be able to run to Thadden. A smirk somehow finds its way onto Thadden's face. Perhaps, he approves of her armor and weapons. Clenching her fists nervously, they approach the gate.
* * * * *
Elsewhere in Mist Hollow, Jake's eyes search amid the shops, taverns, inns, and townhouses. There is no movement. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as a series of goosebumps invades his skin. Feeling bored and just a little bit useless as well, Jake starts to turn around. Then that he hears the rumbling of the ground. As the earth shakes and trembles, Jake heads in the direction of the noise.
"Might as well check it out. I've been through so much at this point it doesn't really matter.” Clutching the staff tightly, Jake continues. He travels beyond the small town, and catches glimpse of a huge cave.
"Is this where the townspeople have all fled?” Before he has time to explore the cave and receive his answer, he is roughly lifted off the ground. When he registers just how high off the ground he is, he thinks to look back. Before him stands a giant of a man made completely of stone. The giant examines him, and then lets out a hearty laugh. Jake falls to the ground hard, as the man of granite lets him go. His booming voice assaults Jake’s ears as he tries to get to his feet with the aid of the staff.
"Hello stranger! What brings you to Mist Hollow? And to your doom, quite possibly," the granite humanoid finishes.
Still trying to catch his breath Jake responds, "I came here to warn this town of the impending doom known as Belghar that is sweeping its way here. And to relay the message that if there are any here who wish to fight this man, then they are welcome to come down to Kyrella where the battle for freedom or slavery is being held. But I guess the inhabitants have already fled.” Jake stares up at the monstrous man to see a reaction.
"The inhabitants of Mist Hollow are dwelling in the cave. They are under my protection. Should this Belghar person come this way I doubt that he will survive much longer. I thank you for the warning, but it was unnecessary. I must go to them now. Leave this town to its fate!” Jake shakes his head at the stupidity of the granite man.
"If you should happen to change your mind about the help, go to Tyrella. We are going to need every person that we can get to destroy the man named Belghar.” With those parting remarks, Jake leaves the people to the cave and their protector. Gwyninne was still where he left her.
"Let's get out of here. We have done all that we can. It's time for us to ride back to Tyrella. We must rest before the war. With a final look at the Mist Hollow, Jake turns leaves the people to their fate. They gallop back into the mist, heading for Tyrella. The figure made of granite watches them leave with troubled eyes.
* * * * *
Cold wind bites into the army that moves along the road to Tyrella. In spite of this weather, they move along at an increasing pace. Perhaps it is the adrenaline that is pumping through their veins. Or maybe it is the sheer thought of the butchery they intend, that warms their guts and pushes them forward. It could also be their insane, power hungry leader who is spurring them on with promises of glory and wealth. Whether it be one or all of these reasons behind their determination, one thing remains unchanged, there is going to be a lot of blood spilt at the end of this conclusion. Floating above the legions in the middle of the army is Belghar. He notes the toughness, and resiliency of his army and he’s pleased. A shimmering wave of heat surrounds him obliterating any cold that approaches. The dark cloudy sky still hangs fatefully over their heads. Pontew is directly below him awaiting any instructions. Belghar mentally orders all of the commanders in the legions to halt the troops. With a few pleasing mutters of gratitude, the men begin to relax. When the men settle themselves, Belghar levitates higher and begins to speak.
"Men are progress is great. I suspect that we shall be in Tyrella by mid-afternoon tomorrow. But until then I wish to ask you a question.” There is complete silence. The sound of hundreds of heartbeats lets Belghar know that everyone is listening.
"Is there any brave soul among you that would love to serve your master in the highest way?” Instantly all hands come up, and they all cheer, as his evil smile surfaces. "Well, I say that I am a little flattered that all of you are so eager to serve me but all I need is one single, solitary man. Perhaps, I should rephrase the question. Who among you wishes to war with Tyrella?” Again all hands go up in a flurry.
"Good! Now, this person that I need is not going to be fighting with Kyrella. They will be serving me in a more suiting service. It is a special service rendered to those who would rather do something else rather than fighting.” His smile broadens.
"Who among you would rather not fight, and serve me instead?” There is a sudden murmur in the crowd, and fifteen hands, all from the same legion wave into the air. Belghar floats over to the crowd of hands.
"Ahh! I see I have some volunteers. I only needed one man, but I suppose I have a purpose for the lot of you. Are you sure that you all want to volunteer and not fight the Tyrellians?” Fourteen heads nod. The fifteenth man didn't like the tone in Belghar’s voice and wisely backed out of the group. A slight chuckle comes from the back of Belghar's throat. Mumbling under his breath the arcane words of magic, he swishes his cape in the direction of the ‘volunteers.’ A fierce, razor-filled wind gusts into the men. Their screams slice the air as razors cut into flesh, and bone. Blood drenches the white snow as the men die horribly. At the last man's final death rattle, Belghar continues his mutterings. For the second time this day, lightning erupts in the sky. Fourteen bolts come down from the sky and entwine themselves around the fresh carcasses. The bodies twitch, and float in the air. When they land back on the ground, the lightning bolts untangle themselves from the bodies and merge with the ground. Seconds later twenty-eight hands burst through the ground and pull the bodies down. When the last body disappears Belghar’s voice speaks up, "That is what happens to all cowards who do not want to fight in this war. But, don't worry men; I'm not one to waste men. They were sacrificed for the glory of our war. The unholy alliance from the undead has been accepted. We now have skeleton warriors who will come to our aid and help us crush those who oppose us, starting with those foolish Tyrellians. Prepare yourselves men. We march tomorrow. Only by marching in the morning can we expect to reach them by midday. Soon, we shall be the rulers of this world. And to those of you who survive there is great reward. Sleep for an hour. For tomorrow brings great salvation.” Seeing the butchery of their fellow mates, the men come to realize just what kind of situation they have gotten themselves into. Needless, to say sleep does not come too easily, and when it does, it comes too late to do any good.
"Make way for the beautiful Queen Tyrella!” All the guards drop to one knee and bow their heads. A hush falls over the crowd of warriors, as the Queen walks towards the gate with Menecha in tow. Menecha's face is flushed. She starts to smoothen out her dress and then realizes that she is not wearing a dress. She is a warrioress now, and the armor and weapons that she is carrying brutally remind her. Her eyes try and probe past the gate to see a certain rogue with a cat by his side. Her heart begins to jackhammer. It pounds and pounds at her insides and begs to be let out. With grim determination, she is able to keep it in its cage. As she nears the gate, she spots the thief named Thadden. Forcing all emotion down, she restrains herself from running to the thief and burying her face in his chest. It is her duty to be beside the Queen. Holding back the tears, she stares numbly into Thadden's eyes. Menecha has come to know patience, and knows that in time, the right time, she will be able to run to Thadden. A smirk somehow finds its way onto Thadden's face. Perhaps, he approves of her armor and weapons. Clenching her fists nervously, they approach the gate.
* * * * *
Elsewhere in Mist Hollow, Jake's eyes search amid the shops, taverns, inns, and townhouses. There is no movement. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as a series of goosebumps invades his skin. Feeling bored and just a little bit useless as well, Jake starts to turn around. Then that he hears the rumbling of the ground. As the earth shakes and trembles, Jake heads in the direction of the noise.
"Might as well check it out. I've been through so much at this point it doesn't really matter.” Clutching the staff tightly, Jake continues. He travels beyond the small town, and catches glimpse of a huge cave.
"Is this where the townspeople have all fled?” Before he has time to explore the cave and receive his answer, he is roughly lifted off the ground. When he registers just how high off the ground he is, he thinks to look back. Before him stands a giant of a man made completely of stone. The giant examines him, and then lets out a hearty laugh. Jake falls to the ground hard, as the man of granite lets him go. His booming voice assaults Jake’s ears as he tries to get to his feet with the aid of the staff.
"Hello stranger! What brings you to Mist Hollow? And to your doom, quite possibly," the granite humanoid finishes.
Still trying to catch his breath Jake responds, "I came here to warn this town of the impending doom known as Belghar that is sweeping its way here. And to relay the message that if there are any here who wish to fight this man, then they are welcome to come down to Kyrella where the battle for freedom or slavery is being held. But I guess the inhabitants have already fled.” Jake stares up at the monstrous man to see a reaction.
"The inhabitants of Mist Hollow are dwelling in the cave. They are under my protection. Should this Belghar person come this way I doubt that he will survive much longer. I thank you for the warning, but it was unnecessary. I must go to them now. Leave this town to its fate!” Jake shakes his head at the stupidity of the granite man.
"If you should happen to change your mind about the help, go to Tyrella. We are going to need every person that we can get to destroy the man named Belghar.” With those parting remarks, Jake leaves the people to the cave and their protector. Gwyninne was still where he left her.
"Let's get out of here. We have done all that we can. It's time for us to ride back to Tyrella. We must rest before the war. With a final look at the Mist Hollow, Jake turns leaves the people to their fate. They gallop back into the mist, heading for Tyrella. The figure made of granite watches them leave with troubled eyes.
* * * * *
Cold wind bites into the army that moves along the road to Tyrella. In spite of this weather, they move along at an increasing pace. Perhaps it is the adrenaline that is pumping through their veins. Or maybe it is the sheer thought of the butchery they intend, that warms their guts and pushes them forward. It could also be their insane, power hungry leader who is spurring them on with promises of glory and wealth. Whether it be one or all of these reasons behind their determination, one thing remains unchanged, there is going to be a lot of blood spilt at the end of this conclusion. Floating above the legions in the middle of the army is Belghar. He notes the toughness, and resiliency of his army and he’s pleased. A shimmering wave of heat surrounds him obliterating any cold that approaches. The dark cloudy sky still hangs fatefully over their heads. Pontew is directly below him awaiting any instructions. Belghar mentally orders all of the commanders in the legions to halt the troops. With a few pleasing mutters of gratitude, the men begin to relax. When the men settle themselves, Belghar levitates higher and begins to speak.
"Men are progress is great. I suspect that we shall be in Tyrella by mid-afternoon tomorrow. But until then I wish to ask you a question.” There is complete silence. The sound of hundreds of heartbeats lets Belghar know that everyone is listening.
"Is there any brave soul among you that would love to serve your master in the highest way?” Instantly all hands come up, and they all cheer, as his evil smile surfaces. "Well, I say that I am a little flattered that all of you are so eager to serve me but all I need is one single, solitary man. Perhaps, I should rephrase the question. Who among you wishes to war with Tyrella?” Again all hands go up in a flurry.
"Good! Now, this person that I need is not going to be fighting with Kyrella. They will be serving me in a more suiting service. It is a special service rendered to those who would rather do something else rather than fighting.” His smile broadens.
"Who among you would rather not fight, and serve me instead?” There is a sudden murmur in the crowd, and fifteen hands, all from the same legion wave into the air. Belghar floats over to the crowd of hands.
"Ahh! I see I have some volunteers. I only needed one man, but I suppose I have a purpose for the lot of you. Are you sure that you all want to volunteer and not fight the Tyrellians?” Fourteen heads nod. The fifteenth man didn't like the tone in Belghar’s voice and wisely backed out of the group. A slight chuckle comes from the back of Belghar's throat. Mumbling under his breath the arcane words of magic, he swishes his cape in the direction of the ‘volunteers.’ A fierce, razor-filled wind gusts into the men. Their screams slice the air as razors cut into flesh, and bone. Blood drenches the white snow as the men die horribly. At the last man's final death rattle, Belghar continues his mutterings. For the second time this day, lightning erupts in the sky. Fourteen bolts come down from the sky and entwine themselves around the fresh carcasses. The bodies twitch, and float in the air. When they land back on the ground, the lightning bolts untangle themselves from the bodies and merge with the ground. Seconds later twenty-eight hands burst through the ground and pull the bodies down. When the last body disappears Belghar’s voice speaks up, "That is what happens to all cowards who do not want to fight in this war. But, don't worry men; I'm not one to waste men. They were sacrificed for the glory of our war. The unholy alliance from the undead has been accepted. We now have skeleton warriors who will come to our aid and help us crush those who oppose us, starting with those foolish Tyrellians. Prepare yourselves men. We march tomorrow. Only by marching in the morning can we expect to reach them by midday. Soon, we shall be the rulers of this world. And to those of you who survive there is great reward. Sleep for an hour. For tomorrow brings great salvation.” Seeing the butchery of their fellow mates, the men come to realize just what kind of situation they have gotten themselves into. Needless, to say sleep does not come too easily, and when it does, it comes too late to do any good.