The Adventures of Brandar Odaron
Book 1: The Hidden Continent
Chapter 7 Reaching The Mountains
Of the twenty horsemen who went after the deserters, only seven returned, galloping behind many riderless horses, and shouting warnings of an attack from the north as they rode swiftly past the leader and his company. And while the men who returned did not stop, and gave no explanation, but rode as if fleeing for their lives, the puzzled leader ordered his remaining horsemen to make a stand in the trees along the roadside. Thus did the horsemen there begin to array themselves for battle until realizing that the returning riders were men whom none of them knew. With that, it took their leader, a Captain, only a little while to go and find his dead and naked soldiers, and what appeared to be the very skins of the Gress and Kobo deserters. Then did he realize that he had been duped, and that the ruse had allowed the Seven to ride far upon the road eastwards. “After them!” bellowed the Captain. “I want their heads on a pike! After them!”
The Captain of the horsemen sent several detachments from his company in pursuit of the seven fleeing riders, one after another, though the Northrons, having donned the dead men’s garb, had escaped by riding swiftly away. And at length, catching sight of the mountains on the horizon, Brandar led his Volunteers south then east into the foothills on the borders of the Eastmarch. And while that was a place of ill omen, shunned by Andarians long ere invasions from the West had begun, and now by the invaders themselves, it was the Northron’s shortest route to the Dwarf Realm of Barador, so Brandar deemed the risk was worth taking.
At sundown, from a high crown of the hills, the Northrons beheld an army of Durwolc running over the grasslands to the far west. Then Brandar said that he sensed eyes of evil-ones upon him. Thus, he led the way at rash speed onto the hard and jagged feet of the mountains; getting lost among the tor and ravines and rock-strewn vales. Yet, a dense fog moved up from the south, rolling swiftly over them; carried upon air so cold that it seemed an unnatural thing, where the Seven could see no farther than a few paces before them, and must ride much slower to keep the horses from stumbling.
Their stolen garments became soaking wet, making them wholly uncomfortable. And the unearthly mist gave them chills which touched them to the very bone, clutching even at their hearts. Then, after but a short while, the Seven lost all sense of direction.
Brandar called a halt and ordered that they take food. And here he asked Alak to use the Diamond of Far-Seeing to find a proper path. But when Alak had called forth the magic he suddenly reigned back his mount and drew his sword, shouting: “Stay back! What do you want? Stay back!” And he took to waving his sword at nothing but the mist. Then all the horses began shying and rearing, and kicking, and huffing and snorting, as if seeing something dangerous in the fog. “What is it?” asked Brandar, trying desparately to keep his own horse under control. “See for yourself!” said Alak. “Use the Gifts!” And when the rest of them activated the magic sight they beheld a multitude of ghostly warriors on the hills all around. Yet, the ghosts did not assail the Northrons, but stood silent, looking upon the Seven with no expressions on their faces. Then Brandar ordered all the magic of the Gems to be activated, which seemed to disturb the ghosts, though they still did not appear to be bent on fighting.
The ghosts were clearly those of Men of fighting heritage, for they bore weapons, even the women and children, and had paint on their faces. But their raiment was primitive, and none were armored, although some held round shields of wood painted in bright colors. And nearest to the Seven was one who looked like the oldest ghost of all, leaning upon a long crooked staff, who stepped up to Brandar, gliding above the ground as he strode. But when he had drawn to within an arm’s reach of Brandar’s horse, he stopped, and began speaking in an ancient tongue which the Seven, to their astonishment, found that they fully understood, though not the speech of the enemy.
“Good greetings, strangers,” said the old ghost. “Welcome to our land.” This ghost held himself in a stately manner, while his grey and thinning hair and his long grey beard blew gently in a breeze which the Northons could not feel. And he spoke calmly to the Seven, saying: “We are the People of Xalaria. The Hill Folk, you would name us. Be not afraid. We shall do you no harm.” Then the Seven felt as if they were familiar with this folk, for it came into their minds that here were people of their own ancient kin, long lost to time. “We will not fight you,” said the old one. “The magic upon your breasts prevents this, even if we wished it.” But, of course, all the necklaces were hidden beneath the Northron’s stolen shirts. “Yet, we know of your Quest, and are sworn to aid you in whatever way we may. We also hold the kings of Andaria as our liege lords, by solemn pledge. Therefore, we say that you are free to go among these hills, our homeland. What is more, we shall assist you with this warning, which you would not have but for our coming to you, and which favor we do by the Gods command, for the goddess Kaereh, of the Anon, has offered to receive us into the Halls of Naekor should we give you these words.
“Behold! Disguises shall no longer conceal you, nor any magic avail you, nor fate be kind, for MorLome has seen you, and sends mighty captains to find and slay you one and all. And evil Mages are with them, who know verily where you go, even through this cloud, which they devised to hinder your escape. Neither do they fear we spirits of the hills; we who this land have kept free of the Durwolc for three long Ages, until now.
“Beware! The Thralls of MorLome pursue you in great numbers. And they shall not turn aside until you are felled. Neither shall you escape without aid, as the Sorcerer of the West cannot allow you to enter into the East, for in that does he see defeat. Hence has he bent all his power against you.
“Flee to the mountains, and tarry here no longer. Go on to the Dwarf Realm, where lies your hope. Ride as swift as you may. Look! The enemy is already upon you. Flee then to the mountains. And may the Gods be with you.”
With that, the old ghost pointed west while he and his people faded from view, despite the magic of Alak’s Diamond. And in that direction, seeing far by that magic, even through the fog, the Seven beheld the armies of MorLome advancing across the hills to the north and the east. Thus did they ken that they were about to be attacked. And thus had the ghosts given them a timely warning. So too had the Gods bestowed favor upon the Emissaries.
Brandar rode rather haplessly upon a tortured path through the hills, striking for the mountains visible due east, using the magic of the Diamond to see in the night and through the fog. And as the wispy mists disappeared with the rising of the Suns, he then ordered the magicks of the Necklaces canceled.
Then the Seven rode without rest for two more days, and the night between. Yet, whether by the disorienting effects of the scattered hills, or enemy mages casting spells upon them, the Seven were again turned, and came to the mountains three leagues south of their intended mark. Yet, if spells were there cast to lead them astray, the glamory was wholly misplaced, as the Seven were now close to a pass which would lead them to the heart of the Realm of Barador, though they knew it not, and thought not to seek for it just then. Yet, of all the ways into the mountains, this was the most well guarded by the Dwarves. And that was rather fortunate indeed, as shall be seen.
Suddenly, Khalen’s horse collapsed from exhaustion, as the Seven descended another rocky slope. And Khalen was thrown so hard that he tumbled a good distance down the hillside. Then some of the Volunteers chuckled at Khalen’s cursing, but here Brandar gently rebuked them and then called a halt so that Khalen could gather himself. But all of their horses now sat themselves down and would not rise again, though the men kicked them and even whipped them, and pulled angrily at their reigns. What is more, the healing of the Emerald would not work its magic to restore vigor to the animals.
“That is enough for the horses,” said Brandar. “Let them go free. They served us well, and do not deserve an unkind death at our hands.” So, the Seven removed the saddles and the padding and bridles from the stolen horses, turning them loose, and took up their own packs once more. But instead of going their way, the horses remained where they were, resting; while some even lay down. “We go afoot,” said Brandar, “as when we started. But we could not have taken the horses into the mountains at any rate.” And as the horses took to resting, Brandar decided that this was a good idea, and ordered the taking of rest and food, although it would be the last of their provisions, including their water. "Nigh upon the feet of the mountains we are,” said Brandar, as darkness fell. “Water should be easy to find. Look for it as we go.”
The night was cloudless, and two of the three Moons were nearly full, so there was no need of a fire. And there they rested, not in the least eager to press on.
At length, Brandar spoke again: “Get up, good comrades. We are soon to march from Andaria in search of the Dwarves of Anauria, yonder, up those dark slopes. Away shall we walk off this hill of our own accord, after the ease of riding those mounts.” “Would that we had walked to here,” said Erek, rubbing his backside while rising. “My bottom is too sore, what with all that ‘ease of riding’, for me to go hiking in this rough country, as were I some child a-dancing in the meadow.” Now the others got a laugh out of that, since they too were quite saddle-sore. “We should find a good place to hide,” said Rosth. “We are at the end of our strength. And as for you, young princeling,” said he to Erek, “if we had not got these rides when we did, you would now be rubbing your feet instead of your arss, and begging the Gods for a horse to ride it upon.” And with that they all burst out laughing, for the out-of-place mirth seemed to lessen their troubles.
“Very well,” said Brandar, as the Seven began their tramping off of the hill, leaving the horses behind. “We must look for a secure campsite. But let us begin to climb this mountain ere night has come to an end. There may we find a cliff-top on which to rest out of sight.” Thus did the Seven make to leave that place when a shadow passed overhead more swiftly than a cloud crossing the Moons. And above them they beheld a flying creature of a kind which none had seen before; curving upwards with great black wings. But higher up they beheld a flock of such monsters diving towards them from on high. And there was little time to prepare for the coming attack.
Barely had the Seven activated their magicks when the monsters fell upon them, striking with beak and claw. And barely was even the magic of the Wizard’s Gems enough to keep the Seven from seeing death at that time, for the creatures were strong and agile and deadly. Each was large enough to carry a grown man, and even his horse, high into the air. Yet, it was found that the lightening of the Jadestone did the creatures such harm that it saved the Northrons, and kept them from an unspeakable demise.
This monster had a head like that of a vulture, but with long and sharp horns, and long fangs, and a forked tongue like that of a snake. No feathers did it have, as its body and wings were much like those of a bat, while it had thewed arms and legs, wickedly clawed. Yet, these bat-vultures did not land upon the Northrons, nor fought upon the ground, but attacked by swooping to use their front claws, striking at the heads of their victims, though at whiles using also their fangs or their hind claws. Thus would the Seven have been defeated were it not for the powers of their necklaces, where the Emerald healed them of wounds about their heads and shoulders.
Nine of the monsters were killed in the first wave; slain by lightening shot from the Northron’s outstretched fingertips, as the Seven had found this to be their preferred magic, when shoulder-to-shoulder and surrounded by foes. And this so startled the vile bat-vultures that the survivors flew up for a moment, which allowed the Seven to draw also their swords. But then the monsters swooped again, and again, and again. And at first the men fended off the assaults; shooting forth their blue-hot lightenings, and hacking off claws and wings, and even heads, with keen Andarian steel, while healing themselves at need. Yet, the creatures redoubled their efforts, so that the attacks came so often and swift, and so numerous were the attackers, and so relentless the assaults, that at length all of the Seven became so riddled with wounds so grievous that they had little time for healing, and were thus born down, kneeling upon the hillside, unaware that all of the horses had been slain and dragged away or taken up into the skies and carried away.
Then three Volunteers lost consciousness, due to the severity of the gashes in their flesh, and deep stabbings from fang and claw. And it seemed to those standing that those who had fallen were now finished, and could not be helped.
Nevertheless, by the blood of Odar which flowed in his veins, and remembering the spirit of fell wrath which had entered into him at the river, Brandar grew enraged, and so forgetting his wounds stood up, striking wildly with lightning from one hand and using his sword in the other, and hot sunbeams from his eyes, but also firebreath from his mouth. And because of that the bat-vultures could not come easily at the fallen.
By the ferocity of his rage, Brandar alone turned the tide, killing half of the bat-vultures there, so that the Volunteers still standing could heal themselves and then come to his aid.
When two-thirds of the monsters lay dead about the Northrons, the surviving creatures flew up, then went about circling above, screeching loudly in angry and crackling voices; the sound of them echoing in the hills. But they did not attack again just then.
Suddenly, Brandar collapsed from loss of blood, as he had not healed himself in his rage, and would have bled to death even as he fought. So, Erek, among the men standing, bent and healed Brandar ere his leader’s life should all emptied out, though Erek himself was near to the brink of death, and barely healed himself ere he would surely have passed out. Then all those yet standing healed those who had fallen, renewing the Seven as a company.
However, ere they could begin again to head east, Tomas said: “Look there, to the west! We are done for!” And cresting hills nearby, like some nightmarish shadow of the UnderRealms, there came a vast number of Gnoll, howling and snarling, grinning and slavering, and coming rapidly towards the Seven. And the bat-vultures above took to calling in their irritating voices, which the Seven found that they understood. “Come! Yes, they are here!” “Yes. Here! Come, ser us a feast this night!” “Yes! Yes! Come, and slay the man-beasts!” “Come! Yes! Come swiftly!”
“We go!” said Brandar. “Make for the mountains. Keep to your magicks. But mind the skie. Remember the Wizard’s words, and follow me!” Brandar then ran with the Volunteers close behind. But ere they had ascended the very next slope, Daram called out: “Look!. The Gress have come. In great strength.” And from the northeast the Seven beheld the remains of the army of Gress with which they had done batle at the River Theweg. “And there!” said Alak, pointing north. “The horsemen from the road.” Riding hard over the hills came the cavalry whose fellows the Northrons had slain in the woods, and whose garments they yet wore, though all thoroughly slashed, and spattered with their own red blood, and the thick black blood of the bat-vultures. “And here!” shouted Rosth, pointing south. “We are trapped on the third side as well. Southrons, in league with the West, on the move to this place.” From the south marched an army of Men whose livery was easily recognizable. “Kulahnin,” said Erek. “Curse their souls. Like as not they have Mages among them, for their lords are high in the arts of devilry.” Thus, freedom lay only in the mountains rising in tall and ragged spires in the east, like upturned teeth in the jaws of a great primordial creature of earth and stone.
Towards those peaks the Emissaries ran as never before, healing themselves as they went, so as to keep going despite the lack of food and water, and of sufficient rest. And in this way, at the rising of the Suns, they arrived at a high cliff-wall, all the while looking for an attack from the horrible bat-vultures yet circling above and calling still to the enemy upon land. And when the Seven came up to that wall the winged-ones indeed fell upon them once more, in a plot to keep them trapped until the rest of the enemy should arrive. But the cliff aided the Seven; keeping the bat-vultures from swooping as freely as they had been able to do before. Then the Seven slew so many more that the survivors flew up to circle above the cliff-top. Yet, the monster’s dastardly plan was achieved, for there rode up a company of the Westron Cavalrymen wielding long spears.
So did the horsemen charge upon the Northrons, intending that a final battle would be fought at the base of the cliff. Yet, Brandar broke away, running headlong to meet the riders; his bloody sword held high. And this startled the horsemen, as he shoute: “Death to MorLome!” Then he slew three with lightning, and cried: “For Andaria and the Dunjilar!” Whereupon he worked defiantly against spear and shield, and axe and sword, and hammer and mace; like a whirlwind in a forest of sharp and pointed steel, knocking the enemy’s weapons high and wide, then slaying rider and horse alike. But he was followed by the Volunteers, who likewise shouted battle cries; seeing no better way to fend off so many than to make their own charge, instead of waiting to be skewered. Thus did the Seven do battle with the horsemen. And while it was a hard and hurried fight, the Emissaries were prevailing, and many riders were being slain in short order.
Strong and agile were the Northrons. And so powerful were their magicks, and so imposing their counter, that the cavalry advance was stayed; with many an enemy mount turning or bucking, or running wildly away, or spinning about uncontrollably. And it soon became clear that the Northrons would win the day, despite the best efforts of the well-armed enemy. Yet, while many spears were hacked aside, and axeblows fended off, and mace strikes thrust back, the Northrons received grievous wounds, and were hard pressed to heal themselves as they struggled.
Well-trained and battle-proven were those horsemen. And their steel was nigh as fine as that of the Northron’s own Andarian swords. Thus were the Seven made to fight in earnest, regardless of the magic of their necklaces. And many times did the jabbing and slashing and hacking of the enemy make its mark.
Even so, by the powers of their necklaces, and their inborn strength, and their own training and experience, the Seven won the field, so that the greater part of those horsemen were wounded or killed, and only eleven rode away; leaving their fallen fellows on the gore-spattered gravel at the bottom of the cliff, with the nearly exhausted Northrons standing bloodied but victorious over the dead and the dying.
The Northrons once again healed themselves, suddenly dismayed to find that the power of Erek’s Emerald was waning. Then they went about catching horses within ready reach, but Rosth called out before each could find a mount, nodding to where Gress were bounding over hills northwest.
So then the Seven must ride upon four horses only, with Khalen behind Brandar, Alak behind Rosth, and Erek behind Daram. And barely did they get out from under a rather thick rain of arrows while following the bottom of the cliff-wall going south.
Riding much too swiftly over that rough and dangerous ground, the Seven could see the Gnoll coming less than three furlongs away, and outpacing even the main force of horsemen now riding down from the north, and also the Southrons a league away, but turning to cut off the Northron’s escape. And the Northrons need not look back to know that the Gress were coming behind them. So it was that the Seven were bound to be destroyed, should they not find a way into the mountains.
“What shall we do now?” exclaimed Alak. “Trapped as between hammer and stone! Would that we had wings like to eagles.” “Hush up!” said Rosth angrily, and quite unlike himself. “The end is not yet.” “Look for a way into the mountains!” said Brandar, pointing at a stretch of broken cliffs a little ways ahead. “We must outrun the enemy, there!” “We have lost our chance!” said Daram. “The ground is too rough! We shan’t make it ere these mounts falter upon the stones.” “True,” said Erek. “We shall break their very legs off at this pace. But what choice do we have?” “No choice,” said Brandar. “Keep looking for a pass, or some other way up. We can scale the cliffs if we must. Do not give in. Have we not made it to the mountains? The Dwarves will not be far away. Let us ride as swiftly as the horses may allow. And pray to the Gods that we make it in time.”
Night had fallen, but again the Moons gave enough light. And so it was that the Seven rode, moments away from capture. Then, as Erek had foretold, he and Daram’s horse broke a leg, and falling it spilled the two onto dangerously rocky ground. And then, to their utter disappointment, the Seven found that Erek’s Emerald would not heal the animal.
Then the Seven rode upon three horses only; one carrying three men. And as they all expected, that one broke one of its legs, so that the Seven had but two mounts between them. With that, Brandar ordered the remaining two horses released. And the Northrons went forward on foot as quickly as the treacherous land would let them go. And not a few times did one or another of the men likewise break a leg, where they found that the healing of the Emerald grew weaker with each effort to mend a limb. Then did they fear that their Necklaces would fail them altogether.
At length, and barely in time, the cliffs seemed lower and more broken, and much more accessible. And there Brandar found a deep fissure that went all the way up, with its end out of sight. “A likely place to climb,” said he, turning eagerly towards the cleft. But a short black arrow suddenly entered his neck from the right, piercing his throat all the way through. And he doubled over from the pain; nearly killed at that time, as hot blood gushed from his mouth and quickly entered his lungs, so that he would surely choke to death should he swoon ere pulling out the arrow, and if not for Erek, seeing that his leader could not next utter the words of healing, moved swiftly to heal Brandars wound. Then a torrent of arrows fell upon the Seven. Alak received a gash over his right ear, and an arrow in his right hip. But he was able to pull the arrow out and heal himself before the pain would lay him down. Khalen took an arrow in his arm, and Tomas one in the shoulder, while Erek took two in one leg, but Daram one in his side. Yet, Rosth was unhurt. Neither did Brandar get more than the arrow in his neck. But that was quite enough for Brandar. He and his wounded fellows struggled to break-off then withdraw the shafts, ere they all fell out from agony, and then called up the healing as quickly as they could.
Suddenly, the Gnoll were upon the Seven, having come more swiftly than the Gress by leaving many of their brethren behind, broken-legged and bleeding, as they ran heedless over the knife-sharp rocks in the night, driven by senseless rage. And the Gnoll who had made it loosed all of their arrows as soon as coming within sight of the Northrons. So had they come unexpectedly upon the Emissaries.
By fortune, Gnoll carry few arrows, and unpoisoned; preferring to fight using thin swords and short spears. Thus did the Seven have just the time needed to remove the arrows that struck true and heal themselves ere the Gnoll arrived like a pack of ravenous animals and engaged in close fighting.
Years later, Brandar would say that the arrow wound he had taken there was the most distressing he had ever experienced to that time, because both the arrow-head and the shaft were barbed, and he was forced to push it clean through, breaking off the feathers, ere drawing it from his neck, yet finding that he could not then utter the words of healing. And he thanked Erek, and the Gods, many times thereafter. Nevertheless, all of Seven had now to stand and immediately fight with a vicious company of Gnoll, numerous and unrelenting. And in the midst of the struggle, the Seven could see the approaching Gress, trotting steadily from the northwest, while the horsemen still rode from the north, and that army of Southrons drew ever closer. Doom had come upon the Northrons, of which there was no doubt.
Most of the Seven were then wholly convinced that this was their end when suddenly the bat-vultures entered the fray, so that the wounded and weary Seven were put to it all at once upon one flank, and also above. Consequently, the Seven must move east and make for the crack in the mountainside, even as they fought, or they would fail. “To the cleft!” shouted Brandar, fighting so fiercely that his words were stuttered. “Make for the cliff wall! To the cleft in the cliff wall!” And he began to move as he fought.
Step by step, limping and stumbling, clutching at huge gaping wounds, defending themselves from Gnoll upon their right, and then coming at them from behind, and from the bat-vultures swooping upon them from above, the Northrons moved slowly towards the fissure in the great cliff-wall. And lo, they made it to the safety of that place, as the cleft was so narrow that two only, wielding their magicks, could defend the opening against many, while the bat-vultures were prevented from flying in. Indeed, to the Northrons, it was as if nature herself had made a huge crack in the mountains, ages apast, just to save the Northrons from destruction that day.
The cleft was as a great vertical split in the cliff, from top to bottom. And it was so very narrow, and the approach so high and so jagged along the sides, that Brandar and Daram together kept the enemy from entering, while the other Northrons searched the ways of the bottom of a ravine behind the cleft, with the dawn full breaking. A haven they had found, and a mighty fortress. And also a trap, lest some way out of it could be discovered. Yet, Brandar and Daram filled the mouth of the ravine with such dread that the Gnoll soon pulled away, giving up their assault, and moved off to set up an encampment in the nearby hills. But the Gress and the horsemen would arrive very soon. And that may mean more fighting, as the morning grew brighter.
The Seven now rested and healed themselves, and took food and water, but dared not sleep, nor relax their guard upon the entrance to the cleft. Then a few of them made to search out the way east. “Lord Brandar!” shouted Alak, joyously. “Come see! A pass has been carved into the cliff!” And when Brandar ran to see what was afoot, he did not notice that the floor upon which he ran was itself smooth and level. “A stairway,” said Alak, as Brandar came close. “Stairs carved in the stone.” And all but Daram, who stayed to guard the entrance, crowded to see.
The steps began to rise at the back of the great crevice, and went so far up into the mountains that their end was lost from sight, despite the growing light of day. “This is it!” cried Brandar. “The way to the Dwarf Realm! Up the stairs we go, in search of the Dwarves of Barador! Follow me!” And Brandar took to the stairs as if they were the path to Esuriah itself. Quickly followed by his men, Daram came last, keeping a wary eye on the entrance to the crevasse. Thus did the Northrons at length rise above the cleft itself, and were high in the mountains ere the enemy were aware of their escape. And they climbed as far as they could manage, until at last they must rest.
Here they healed themselves; again finding that the power of the Emerald was finally fading, for it did not cure their weariness or hunger as thoroughly as before. Yet, they rested there, high upon the stairs, looking down upon the top of the crevasse, and upon the enemy encampments stretching now far out into the countryside, and which included all of the enemy that had come there in pursuit of the Northrons.
A day and night they rested, though sleep was difficult on the stone of the stairs. Then they climbed again, sure that the enemy would be braving the stairs themselves, down below. So, climb they must, and tarry not overlong while resting. Arduous was that trek, for the stairway went several leagues up, into the tallest of the mountains of Anauria. And when the Northrons reached its end on the evening of their second day of climbing, with little rest, they must stop and be healed once again. But while they were out of food, and going quite hungry, they found sweet and clean running water in abundance from the melting of snow upon the heights. And here they could see that they were at the bottom of a great and wide valley, between two mighty peaks, where the stairs gave way to a rough but discernable upward-sloping path. Yet, no living thing was to be seen in that valley, for it was all of treacherous black stone, and no plants nor lizards nor vermin, nor even birds, could be found thereabouts, though those dreaded bat-vultures could be seen at the edge of sight, far below, yet continuing to circle above the cleft in the cliff-wall there. Glad, therefore, were the Northrons that they had escaped so high into the mountains. But worried they became that no sign of life could be found, nor any sign that Dwarves indeed lived nearby.
“Bleak it is,” said Alak, as night fell and the Seven looked up into that dark and lonely valley. “Who would think that Dwarves, or anyone else, could live here.” “I remember what the Dwarves trading in Romin would say,” intoned Brandar, “when I asked about their homeland. ’We Dwarves do not live upon our mountains, but within them,’ said they. ‘We carve out dwellings for ourselves in the heart of the stone. And that is where we dwell, as warm as bears in their dens, and bees in their hives, and far more safely than living in houses of wood on the wide open plains.’” “Such is commonly known,” said Daram, “though few Men have seen those places, these days. I, for one, hope that the Dwarves at least have a hearth from which they may give us a hot meal. And mayhap they shall give us soft beds to sleep upon. My bones ache even after healing from the Emerald hanging from Erek’s neck.” “They say,” said Erek, “that the cities of the Dwarves are paved with bricks of gold, and there is a treasure trove ‘neath each of their beds.” “That I would like to see,” said Tomas. “Bricks of gold.” “Do not believe such tales,” said Khalen. “I am one who has seen such a city, in my youth. A marvel it was, to be sure, but it was not paved with gold. My father took me once to visit with the Dwarves in the Ice Mountains, away to the North. Believe rather what you see with your eyes, should we meet with the Dwarves of Anauria.” “Verily,” said Brandar. “But do not speak of treasure, should we come among the Dwarves, lest you ‘rouse their ire. And what is known is that the heart of a Dwarf is bound to the work of his hands, whether that be with stone, or with iron, or with gems. Thus, unwise and unwitting would it be to speak of treasures ‘neath their beds. The more especial if one wishes to beg of their charity. We must speak only of our purpose, such as it is, and entreat them to send aid in force of arms to Andaria.”
The Northrons rested there for the day, soaking up the sunlight. Then Brandar bade them continue, as night came on; hoping that movement would help them endure the cold. “The Gnoll may be climbing the stairs, by now,” said he, as the Seven made their way up the path, “not to say also the Gress, and mayhap Westrons, as well, on foot. Let us look for signs of the Dwarves, and with luck even the road to Barador, if the Gods will it so.” And he led his men up gully and ghyll, and many a rocky ravine. Yet, due to the roughness of the way, the Seven took many cuts and bruises as they went. And often would one of them sprain an ankle, and during the wearing of the night, Daram and later Rosth each broke a leg. But with each use of the Emerald, the healing power took longer than the time before. And this caused the Seven to lose heart.
Neither could anything be done to ward off the cold, as Brandar forbade the heating of stones with firebreath; fearing that the magic of the necklaces would give out entirely. And with the coming of another morning, the Seven found that daylight did now nothing to relieve the chill of the mountain's winds. Thus were they more cold than at any other time in their lives.
One day more they trekked, and were then just past the middle of the valley, as far as they could tell, when the sky became ashen, so that the Suns were shrouded. And at noon, the gloominess had grown as severe as when the Seven were braving the ranks of the enemy in the Eastmarch. And the cold winds sliced through their ragged garments, as though the whisps were blades made of ice. Then also were the men’s bellies aching from hunger, despite the healings that must be initiated so often that the Seven now rested more regularly than they traveled.
“The magic is weakening,” said Erek. “And we are likely all to starve to death. Would that some beast were here to be slain and eaten. … When will it ever end?” “Curse these wretched mountains,” said Tomas. “There is no game for hunting. What would I not do for some hot rabbit stew.” “We have been overly dependent on the Wizard’s Gifts,” said Alak. “Soon they may fail, and what then shall we do? These mountains alone shall slay us.” “Why are we even here?” said Erek, angrily. “We have seen not one sign of the stupid Dwarves since leaving the stairs. Shall we ever see them?” “Enough!” said Brandar, frowning at Erek. “You knew what you faced when you agreed to follow me here. Would you turn back now, after all we have been through? Would you return to face the armies of MorLome? If the Wizard’s magic fails us, and the Gods abandon us here, then so be it! But I think not that such is our fate. I, for one, shall go on, Dwarf Lords or no.”
“Forgive me, my Chieftain,” said Erek. “I spoke rashly, unthinking.” “The best course is yet to the east,” said Tomas. “And to keep our vows. Have we not come alive through the siege of MorLome? That alone should be worth a song or two, and thus reason to press on, even should we be defeated by these wan and bitter mountains. Let us take heart, and carry on. Dead we are not yet. And the Dwarves are likely nearby, else why shape this trail so easy to be followed?” But then Brandar changed his mind, owing that it was much too cold to go on without healing and rest. So he allowed Daram to heat a boulder with the firebreath of his Ruby. And there they gathered around, healed themselves, and rested.
“Let us go,” said Brandar, after the stone had cooled, “though it be without hope. Mayhap we shall come across the Dwarves soon enough. And they shall give to us sanctuary.” And he led the way, solemnly, as daylight began to wane.
The Volunteers followed Brandar farther into those ancient mountains, through that night and long into the following day, with the sky remaining cloudy. Then they came to the crest at the upper end of the valley, where the sides of the two peaks, north and south, were nearest to each other. And looking back, the Seven could see over the cliffs far below, and over the hills, and the land west, though the horizon was lost in the gloom, and in the smokes of the enemy’s fires. And they dwelt not long on that view.
Suddenly, Erek and Rosth called for the others to look up, northwards, and there the Seven beheld three winged beasts, each as black as the stone of the mountains, and descending rapidly towards the Seven. “Drakes!” said Erek. “Drakes are upon us.” And thus all the Seven drew their swords and activated their magicks. Then Brandar positioned his men on the slopes as best he could, in the time he had, with himself at the highest point. “Mountain Drakes,” said Khalen. “Curse the luck.” “Prepare yourselves,” said Bandar. Then the Drakes were upon them.
Drakes are not as great as the Dragons of the mountains. Yet, each was large enough to carry off a horse in one claw, which they are known to do. So too could one alone remove the head of a horse with but a bite of its jagged-toothed maw, or with a swipe of its claws. And thus were the Seven now in for a terrible struggle.
The Drakes fell upon the Seven like hawks upon prey. But the creatures did not swoop across the slopes, as the Bat-Vultures would have done, and as the Seven half expected, but landed on top of their victims, plunging their huge claws deep into flesh. And the monsters were used to biting the heads off their quarry before lifting the body and flying away, soon to devour it, or take it to a nest for their young.
Seven bright bolts of lightning struck the beasts, as the things sailed down, yet, whether by the nature of the monsters or the weakening of the Gems, the lightening did them little harm. Then Brandar and Alak and Tomas were born down, and kept their heads only by the sharpness of their swords, and the fighting skills that are a Northron’s training and heritage. But the three were gravely wounded.
Due to their positions on the slope, and the roughness of that place, the other four men could not swiftly attack the drakes from the side. And the normally devastating lightenings never so harmed the creatures that they would relent, and so release their victims. Neither was the giant-strength of Brandar’s Pearl enough for the Northrons to push the monsters away, so mighty were the Drake’s grasps upon the fallen.
Then Tomas was born up and dropped from a great height, so that he lay broken and unconscious; bleeding upon the rocky slopes. “Rosth!” called Daram. “Go help Tomas! Quickly! I go to Brandar!” But both Erek and Khalen could not come as readily as they wished because of the sizes and shapes of the boulders thereabouts. And Erek cursed the stone.
With no other course of action coming to mind, Brandar and Alak tried others of their magicks, and discovered that the fire-breath was the most damaging to the Drakes, for it burned them savagely. Then the two called loudly for the others to use the fire-breath, and with that power the Seven drove off their attackers; immediately afterwards setting about healing themselves of their deep bleeding wounds.
The Drake which attacked Brandar was the last to get away. And while each of the beasts had been hurt, none were killed. Then Brandar ordered that the Seven must stand well apart, once again. But as they hurriedly scrambled to take new positions, Khalen stumbled and hurt his knee, and must limp to take his place upon the slopes. And he had no time to heal himself.
The Drakes attacked again, more fiercely than before. And again, Brandar’s first opponent fell upon him once more. But this time, he stood fast under the weight of that daunting and evil beast; showing a tremendous feat of strength unaccounted for by the magic of his necklace. And Brandar stood there swinging his sword as the Drake clasped his shoulder, and attempted to bite him about the head and neck. But Brandar’s sword was too swift and keen for the Drake to defeat that Dunjilarian, the rightful heir of Odar, and the most dour Man the beast had ever encountered. But neither could Brandar free himself from its grasp.
The Drake that had dropped Tomas fell now upon Daram, who did go down, and began to struggle in a panic under the grip of the foul-smelling creature. But Daram was soon to lose his struggle, it would seem, and often came close to losing his head.
Meanwhile, just as Rosth knelt to offer healing to the unconscious Tomas, he was clutched in his side by the Drake that had, at first, attacked Alak. In that way Rosth lost his weapon, as the monster’s talons drove deep into his ribs. But the pain of those wounds caused Rosth to cry out so loudly that he lost his voice in that moment, whereupon he was dragged helplessly across the stones. Then did the Drake take to flinging Rosth against the stones, at which the man lost his senses, and would soon be dashed to a limp and bloody pulp.
Brandar hewed at the leg of the claw that was fastened to his shoulder, as Erek went to hack off a piece of wing from the Drake who held Daram, and Khalen attacked the Drake that was tossing Rosth against the stones.
Finally, with a last desperate and mighty swing of his sword, Brandar clove fully through the foreleg of the beast that was holding him. Yet, the claw remained as the Drake gave a cry and fell backwards. And when Brandar pulled that claw from his shoulder, he fell to his knees from the pain; staying upright only by speaking the words of healing, and not a second too soon. Later he would say that this wound was nigh as dire as when his throat had been pierced by that arrow from the Gnoll, and marks the second instance in which Brandar nearly died from a single wound. But later he also gave thanks to the Gods that he had not fallen, and was able thus to fight on.
This battle was one in which the Seven came nigh to failing. And long thereafter would they not speak of it, lest they recall the pain suffered there.
When Erek cut into the wing of the beast that held Daram, the creature let go of Daram and struggled to get away, no longer able to fly about. But Alak had by then climbed up the slope above the Drake and now jumped upon its back, driving with a mighty heave his sword deep into the startled monster’s back. The Drake fell sideways, throwing Alak off, but Erek was there and assailed it with fire-breath; so smiting the vile creature that it lay itself down, quivering with smoke and flame rising from its charred wings and mutilated body. Thus could the beast defend itself no more, and lay open to the Northron’s blade, at which Erek stepped in and deftly cut off its head.
Daram had been so wounded that he could not rise up, and then he swooned, bleeding profusely upon the stones. And Rosth had gone limp from the pounding he was receiving. But Khalen used both fire-breath and his sword to attack Rosth’s Drake, while the broken heap of Tomas lay quiet nearby. Then Khalen kenned that he must finish this fight, or Rosth and Tomas would die. He therefore drove into his foe with all he had to give, as worn as he was, and caused it to release Rosth, who was now in a very bad way, and fell as if dead as soon as being loosed.
Brandar’s Drake was made mad by the severing of its claw, and flew up to next come crashing down upon Brandar, with the intent of catching the man in its teeth. But the Northron was too quick, and far too strong, and so punched the creature’s gapping maw aside, whereat the Drake slammed headlong onto the stony slope. And with that, while the Drake lay stunned, Brandar drove his sword into its brain, at which it kicked and shuddered, and then lay dead; as still as the stones upon which it had fallen.
Alak soon recovered from being thrown from the now burning Drake. Then he and Erek went wearily to tend to the unconscious Daram. And at the last, Khalen had so wounded the Drake which had smitten Rosth that the monster was done-for. And so did Khalen plunge his weapon into its heart, killing it, at which Khalen fell down in his weariness, though he did not swoon. Rather, while he had fought to the end of his strength, he dragged himself over the heal Rosth. Yet, he could not manage to heal himself ere collapsing from exhaustion. Then, there was Rosth, waking up and discerning what had happened, and tearfully healed his fallen friend. And next, Brandar went over to impart healing to Tomas. So it was that the Seven survived the attack of the Mountain Drakes. But all of their healing was not there completed, for the powers of their Gems had been used to their fullest. And while the Seven regained most of their health, they were not completely healed as before, and they must use the last of the Emerald’s magic upon Tomas, who was thus made well enough to continue climbing.
Testing the other magicks, as the cloudy night fell, leaving them in darkness, they found that all of the magicks faded to nothing as they tried them in turn. So were they left as if blind with no more magical far-sightedness, nor protection by forceful energies, nor any further healing. And if that were not enough, it had grown colder than ever.
Unexpectedly, Brandar beheld a light upon a high place south, as though it were from a torch or small fire. Then Daram, perceiving Brandar’s curiosity, also beheld the light, and spoke of it to the others. And all seven gazed at it. “Surely that is firelight,” said Brandar. “A small flame, I would say. A torch, or a lantern held still, but too far to know.” “What now?” said Erek, disgustedly. “How many more monsters must we fight, here with the magic all gone, and we at the end of our strength?”
But lo, even as they gazed upon this light, two more appeared near to it, so that the three lay along a line on the mountainside. “Not monsters,” said Brandar, “but Dwarves.” Then did his men begin to rejoice. But Brandar bid them be quiet, and said: “A signal this is, or I am a ghost. But for us, we know not. And if the dwarves are about making signs for themselves, then it is, like as not, a sign of battle. Therefore, no sign from us should they see, lest they take us for enemies, or the enemy sees it and comes upon the path we have taken.”
Then all three lights went out in that instant. “We wait for daylight,” said Brandar, “then make for that place, to see if it is truly the Dwarves of Anauria.” So the Seven moved away from the dead Drakes and found a place out of the wind to spend the night, huddled for warmth. And in the dull morning, they began to struggle up the mountainside without magic to aid them. And that was indeed an excruciating climb, where the cold made them lose all feeling but a throbbing pain in their hands and feet. Nor was there healing for the wounds they received from the jagged rocks, where at times one would fall so hard that they must rip bandages from their ragged clothing to serve as bandages. Yet, with the coming of another night, and near the end of their endurance, they came to a slight but level place where they could rest from their efforts. And again they huddled for warmth but due to weariness fell soon into a sound and dreamless sleep.
Khalen came awake late in the night, for no discernable reason. And he thought he was dreaming of fireflies all moving slowly along a crooked line in the valley below. Then he leapt to his feet, in sudden realization, and quietly woke the others. “Look,” said Khalen to Brandar. “It is the Gnoll, I should think. They have at last followed us all the way here. Even now they track us by torchlight.” “Else they are Gress,” said Tomas. “Or the horsemen, our friends,” said Erek, shivering. “Or all of them together,” said Brandar. “We should tarry on this ledge no longer. As sore as we are, we must climb.”
So it was that the Seven climbed, and climbed, and stumbled and fell, and wore themselves down so terribly, and had lost so much blood, and were coming so close to collapsing, that they could barely keep going by the waning of the night. And as they were starving, and had found no water for two days, they lay down and could go no further when, at last, they came to a small shelf upon which to rest. But the shelf was at the bottom of a rough cliff.
An hour later, Brandar peered weakly over the ledge to find that he disliked the vantage, as he could see no torch-lights due to pinnacles of stone between his perch and the valley. So he decided that he must scale the cliff above the ledge by morning, so as to keep an eye on the ways to that place. And he made to climb the wall, but found it the most grueling of efforts, and cursed himself when at whiles he would be stuck, and must go sidewise or back, to find handholds for a more certain way up.
At long last Brandar came barely to the top of the cliff and made to pull himself over when a shadowy hooded figure suddenly appeared above him, so startling him that he lost his hold and would have fallen to his death. But the figure reached swiftly out and caught Brandar by the wrist, and with one pull hauled the Northron up and sat him upon the cliff-top, quite safe and sound. And, even in his fright and amazement, Brandar noticed that this person had unusually large and strong hands, with long thick fingers, and a very rough palm. Then Brandar was reminded of a time in his childhood when his father had lifted him up by the wrist, just as this person had done him just now. But then he swooned from his weakness, and knew no more for a while. But many things happened while Brandar slept. Things he learned of only after he slumbered away his tiredness over the course of several days. And these were the most fateful of things; marking the end of the Northron’s trek through the ranks of the enemy during the Third Invasion. Yet, little do Andarians know of those things, as they are deeds of the Dwarves of Anauria, not sung among Men as much as the deeds of the Emissaries. Nevertheless, it was by those deeds that the Emissaries were saved.
Under cover of darkness, a company of Gnoll had stealthily climbed to where the Volunteers were resting, and would attack without mercy, unknowingly at the moment of Brandar’s swoon up above. But a tremendous horn blast peeled through the valley and alerted the Six, so that the Gnoll did not catch them off-guard. And at the first clash of metal, here came swift arrows from the cliffs all around; bringing ruin upon the Gnoll, while leaving he Northrons totally unharmed. Then numerous Dwarves appeared atop the shelf, as if magically emerging from the very stone of the mountain. And these now assailed the Gress and chased them away, at which the Six Volunteers sat with their backs to the cliff-wall, too weary to notice that Brandar was not there, nor to thank the Dwarves for saving their skins. Yet, the Dwarves heeded them not, being intent upon pursuing the Gnoll down the slope and into the valley.
Coming to their senses after a while, the Volunteers suddenly realized that Brandar was gone. And they stood and called out for him, but stopped when seeing the light of many torches above them; for atop the cliff, dwarves with coal black eyes were peering down at them, as the sound of a furious battle wafted up from the valley. And without a word of greeting or explanation, the Dwarves let down knotted ropes for the men to grasp, and by which they meant to haul the men up. And so it was that the Dwarves pulled the Volunteers up the cliff-face, whereupon all but Daram and Erek lay down from exhaustion as soon as reaching the top. But there the two beheld Brandar sleeping on the ground nearby, wrapped in a thick fur blanket. And they were much relieved to see Brandar safe and whole, and resting peacefully. Then they sat down, both of them thanking the Gods that they had been rescued.
The leader of the Dwarves then spoke to them, using the Andarian Common, and said: “Fear not, brave Warriors. Your Chieftain is not hurt, but has merely swooned after his great climb in the night. We are here to help you, and shall tend to your needs as soon as may be. But we have a task to finish, ere other concerns are addressed.” Then the two were comforted, and Erek sat down. But Daram said: “Thank you, Lord. We are saved by your kindness. But how did you know that he is our Chieftain?” “We have been watching you,” said the Dwarf, “for a long time now, and listening to you. Ever since you all stepped upon the Ancestral Stairs. Do I not guess rightly that you are Northrons, and that this one is your Chieftain? But you have come from the west, which means Andaria. Is that not so?” At which Daram nodded. “I am Bereth,” said the Dwarf, “son of Barad; Lord of West Anauria. You are safe now, here in my realm. Rest on this porch for a while, and then shall we see to your stomachs. Soon the fighting will be done, and I shall hear your tale. Meanwhile, your wounds will be tended, and cloaks will be given to you, to stave off the cold.” “Thank you again, my Lord,” said Daram. “Indeed, Northrons we are, from the city of Romin. Daram am I. And our Chieftain is Brandar; a Dunjilarian of the house of Odar.” Bereth remembered the name Odar from stories he had heard in his youth, and had once traded with Northrons in Romin, and who spoke of the legends of Odar the Old. But he said nothing of this at the time. “Rest now, friend Northron of Romin,” said he. “We shall meet again on the morrow, and then may you give me your Tell.”