Chapter Fifty Three – The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep by Kelly D. Tolman

Posted by admin on September 28, 2009

The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep is a fantasy novel describing the adventures of Colter Halfspear as he becomes a man and an initiate of magical powers.

I was rather nervous about what we might find, and also somewhat let down.  The room was essentially a library.  Shelves lined the walls, packed with neatly arranged books.  My first thought was that Pascalli would have me reading them for the next hundred winters whether I felt inclined or not.  There was a sturdy table and two padded chairs.  A lit candelabrum adorned the table, and lit lanterns hung from the ceiling in each corner of the room shedding a remarkable brilliance.  In the center of the room an amazing life-like statue of white and blue marble gazed back at us.

The statue was an angelic figure, bold and strong, arrayed for battle with both spear and sword.  I could just see the edges of great wings folded at his back.  The face held an expression that I found both stern and defiant.  His polished armor reflected slightly in the brightness of the room, and I found myself reminded of lord Kelsin as he charged into battle, though this figure far out measured Kelsin in both nobility and strength.

Pascalli gave me a soft nudge and I stepped into the room.  “Take a look around, Scratch,” he suggested.  “Be careful, there is something odd here.”

I crossed the room and reached to touch a book.  As I reached out, a voice suddenly spoke.  “The secrets of this place are the master’s alone.”  The voice was strong, deep, and carried a hint of stone grating against stone.  Of all the sounds a person can hear, hearing a sound such as the world has not known in a thousand winters may well be the most remarkable.

I immediately withdrew my hand and spun around.  On reflex I brought my spear into a defensive position.  Across the room Pascalli bolted the door, and laughed, “It appears you’ve found a new friend, Scratch.”

The statue, which had been facing the door, now stared at me.  It raised its spear for a thrust.

“Only the master may touch the treasures of this place,” said the statue.

“Who precisely is your master,” asked Pascalli, his tone carrying only a hint of arrogant mockery.

“Silence, Betrayer!” boomed the statue as it spun with lightning speed to face the wizard.  “My parlay with you will come soon enough.”

To my shock, Pascalli held his tongue.  Something about the statue’s tone hinted at recognition of some kind between them.  It turned to face me again.

“Who are you that comes with The Betrayer into my master’s realm?” it asked.  I felt an icy edge to its tone.

“I am Colter Halfspear,” I replied, and then as afterthought I added, “Lord of Darnuth Keep.”

“Show your tokens,” he said.

I admit I was at a loss.  I had no idea what it could be looking for, and I began to stall by fumbling in my pockets for anything.

“Surely the master has his tokens,” said the statue coldly.  Pascalli caught my eye and mouthed the word rings, and encircled one finger with his other hand.

“Yes, of course,” I stammered.  “Right here in my pocket.”  I pulled out the pair of rings we had found in the great hall.  I held them out for the statue to examine.

“Then you have not yet taken a bride,” he said.  I blushed slightly and put the rings back in my pocket.  “You should wear your tokens proudly.  I will not ask for the medallion, for she has it.”  He lingered for a moment at the unnamed enemy.  “Nevertheless, you will prove yourself by test of battle.”

With no more warning, he sprang to the attack.  I quickly discovered that I was very much outclassed.  His movements were perfect and inhumanly fast in every way.  Although I could now slip effortlessly through the forms that Pascalli had drilled into me, I could not match the speed, strength, or accuracy of this opponent.  I felt the spear torn from my grip, and he hooked my off-balance heel with his foot.  As I fell, his spear point followed, stopping a hair’s breadth from my throat.

“The young master is truly skilled,” it said with a humility I did not expect.  “I am Golgaron, arms master of the Legion of Davmandius.”  He extended a hand and helped me to my feet.  Though the hand was hard as stone, it was not cold.  I could feel the life inside him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I guard the secrets as Davmandius commanded,” he replied.

“How long have you been down here?”  My curiosity was boiling over.

“I do not know,” he said.  “Only one other has opened that door since Davmandius left.  Time has little meaning for me.”  He turned to face Pascalli, raising his spear again.  “Explain yourself, Betrayer.”

“I prefer Pascalli, or wizard,” he replied.  “Many things have changed since Davmandius died.  I am a friend of your master.”

Golgaron turned to me.  “Is this true, master?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.  “He comes as a friend and ally.  I have a lot to learn, Golgaron.  Tell me what has happened here.”
Pascalli and I sat at the table, grateful for the chance to rest in a quiet, warm place, and shared a simple meal of dried meat and water while Golgaron explained.

“During the last war, Davmandius brought me here to guard this place.  He warned that its secrets must never fall into the hands of his enemies.  Then he left and did not return.  I felt him die, but that was long ago.  Then she came?”

“She?” I asked.  “Who is she?”

“Asmordreda,” replied the statue.

“The concubine of Delvor?” asked Pascalli incredulously.

“Yes.”

“That is very bad news,” said Pascalli, his face far more serious than I had ever seen it before.  He saw the questions in my eyes and did not wait for me to voice them.  “She is a very powerful demon queen.  How she came to this world I can only guess.”

“She arrived shortly after the death of Davmandius, and has been spawning her children ever since.  I feel their desecrating hands all over this once fair temple.”

“We killed a few on the way in,” I explained.  “There are still a lot left, though.”  I frowned.  It was going to be a long fight to get out of there.
“Please go on.”

“She tried to come in here only once, but I killed many of her children and faced her as well.  She was not able to destroy me, but I have been a prisoner here as I cannot allow her to reach these secrets.”

“By now she will know or guess that we are here,” I said.  “What do you think she will do?”

“She will wait,” said Pascalli.  “She will want Golgaron to leave here.  She will expect us to fight, and she will know who wins, and then she will strike the weakened victor.”

“I see that The Betrayer has a cunning mind,” said the statue.  “You were a most fitting opponent for Davmandius.”

“That was an old battle, and long ago,” replied Pascalli, his voice tired and suddenly very sad.  “A victory I shall ever regret.”

“What happened,” I asked, but immediately regretted the question.

To my great surprise Pascalli answered without hesitation.  “The last battle Golgaron refers to happened when those of us who no longer wished to follow the old code of magic rebelled against those who held to the ancient traditions.  The battle began the breaking.  I used cunning and artifice to lead the traditionalists into a trap.  I was known ever after among wizards as The Betrayer, even by my closest friends.”

“Did you know Davmandius well?” I asked.

“He was my brother.”  Pascalli stood up and faced the books, and we did not talk of those sad things again.
After several minutes, during which I think I must have dozed, Pascalli said.  “You must find the secret Golgaron is guarding, Scratch.  Asmordreda must be defeated.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman

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