Posted by admin on June 15, 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.
My first impression of Darnuth Keep remains forever implanted into my memory. The great towers, like icicles rise triumphant from the mountainside. True to the name, the towers are constructed of ancient clear-white crystal that shoots into the sky like diamond. A winding, narrow road that has remained undamaged cuts a path up the edge of Mount Hansfor. After hours of labor in thinning air we turned a final sharp corner and saw it rising both ominous and beautiful over the valley and pass bellow. The Hansfor River begins atop the mountain and runs swiftly down, cascading over steep falls before it fills the lake in the valley and races south and west towards the empire and the sea.
“Our destination,” said Pascalli thoughtfully as he scratched his beard. “Perhaps not a destination,” he contradicted almost immediately. “Perhaps a starting point.” He seemed to be lost in his own world for a long moment, until Dina began moving her horse forward. “You’re right, there’s no point standing outside. After all I’m sure we’re expected.” He winked and grinned viciously.
As though time did not exist in the valley or on that mountain, the gates stood tall and clean against the autumn sun. At least three times the height of a man, the polished white crystal of the main gate seemed impregnable at first.
“How do we get in,” asked Dina. I was glad she had asked the question, though it echoed my thought.
“By walking, child, of course,” replied the wizard. “Unless you have learned to fly, which I doubt.”
I managed to fake a cough in order to stifle my laugh, but Dina gave me an angry glare anyway. Pascalli lead us very close to the wall and over to a path, just wide enough for one horse to go at a time. The path ran directly beneath the battlements with the sheer face of the wall on one side and a steep slope up the mountain on the other. I observed that although an army might attempt to approach the fortress from behind, the steep edges sloped just enough that the best they could hope for would be to slide down to the path we now walked where they would be crushed by boulders or burned with oil from the parapets.
At the very back of the keep waits a door just large enough to admit a horse, if it is not a large horse and it is not carrying a great deal of bulk. Pascalli produced a key and opened the door and we began the time consuming task of unloading our horses to get them through the door. The door leads through a dark tunnel to another door, which opens into Darnuth Keep.
Many dozens of buildings without roofs lined the barren streets of the lowest level, bearing silent testament to the greatness of the city’s past. Small doors opened directly into small rooms within the outer city wall. I estimated that the wall spanned some thirty meters across at the top. The ancient city guard must have had their barracks either in the low buildings near the wall or in the small rooms inside. Not a single stair or ladder of any kind graced the sheer surface outside of the wall, the only way up or down came from the inside. Many pools and fountains still danced in the setting sun as we entered, and I felt as if the ghosts of an age long past laughed at us through the water.
“At last, a bath,” said Dina.
“Yes,” agreed Pascalli. “Though the water will likely be icy cold.”
“No fires then,” I suggested.
“Here in the lower city we probably haven’t been spotted yet, although to be perfectly honest I’m not sure what or who watches the surface these days.” Pascalli once again seemed distracted, as if calculating a difficult sum in his head.
“I would very much like a warm meal and a warm bath,” said Dina.
“At what cost,” I said sharply, though she had not been speaking to me.
She turned abruptly to face me. “I am not your charge,” she said. Needles seemed to pierce me as she spoke. “I do not need your counsel.”
“It seems, my dear boy, that the lady will not be denied her pleasantry,” said Pascalli. His tone neither mocked nor condoned, but simply stated a fact. “Go and fetch some water, Scratch, and dig up a pot for heating it. I should like some proper dinner as well, see what you can do about that, lad, if you don’t mind.”
I opened my mouth to disagree when I saw Dina’s look of triumph, but shut it again quickly. “Will you at least help with the fire,” I asked.
“Sorry Scratch,” he said. His voice was suddenly quite serious. “I’m off scouting for a bit. There are plenty of dry timbers around that should burn well enough. Seasoned wood burns the best.” I grabbed my spear and started towards the nearest building. “Find a place with half a roof if you can,” called Pascalli behind me. “Don’t get into trouble.”
By then I absolutely fumed inside. Dina proved to be a hindrance in every possible way. She outright demanded I build a separate fire for her in a separate building where she could heat water and bath herself properly. She did not move a single finger to help. I realize now that once again Pascalli was giving me a simple test of self-control. The danger of our situation was no less now than before, but I guarded the camp alone.
Rather than use two buildings, I waited until Dina seemed content and then built our cooking fire just in front of the abandoned house she had chosen. I stacked our gear just outside the door and began preparing a stew of dried meat and herbs. Dusk already began to drift over us as I began to light the fire, and the shadows seemed to bring with them a quiet that even stilled the tinkle of running water. Dina hummed an unfamiliar but content tune from within the house. My stew simmered very quietly. I heard the soft scrap of something on a stone.
I crept as quickly as I dared, making no noise and grabbed my bow. Finally, after what had seemed like ages of practice I could move almost silently when the need arose. I peered through the depths of darkness for the enemy that surely stalked either my fire or Dina. Dina would have no weapons, and even an unintelligent attacker would deem her the easier target. I went inside the house.
I heard Dina finish her humming and fumbling around for a buffalo hide. She saw me against the light of the fire and shouted. “Scratch, get out of here! I’m bathing.” When I didn’t move she became really angry, and I think she reached to find something to throw at me. Truthfully I couldn’t say what she did because at that moment I caught the movement in the shadows along the roof that I had been looking for. I loosed an arrow, and a piercing shriek, very similar to Dina’s, tore into the night. Something large and black fell into the building and growled in pain. I sent a second arrow past Dina and into the enormous black cat.
“Supper is ready,” I said, and turned and walked out.
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
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Posted by admin on June 8, 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.
We lit no fires. Dina complained about this the first night, until I warned her that we were being watched. At first I think she wanted to argue the point until Pascalli nodded his agreement with my assessment. “Don’t be foolish,” he whispered. “He may be a farmer, lass, but he knows the wild.”
After we abandoned the wagon I did not see any signs for two more days. I thought that whatever was following us had lost interest.
We huddled together for warmth, our backs to each other taking turns nodding off in the night. I saw a flicker of luminous green in the dark. Then it disappeared. An eye most likely, reflecting the dim moonlight. I gently prodded Pascalli and Dina. Pascalli prodded back. He also had noticed something, a shadow perhaps. Dina breathed in sharply and jerked her bow up off her knees. It must have been her sudden move that drew the attention of our attackers because they concentrated on her.
The attack came sudden and precise with all the cunning of a master bandit. Four shapes blacker than the darkness came at us, their pale green eyes the only warning a split second before fangs and claws tore into us. Dina’s arrow caught one in the chest, while mine found a mark in the throat. Behind me I heard Pascalli crack his staff hard into a third. The fourth had caught Dina across the chest with a claw and she fell hard onto the stony earth.
I knocked and loosed a second arrow without hesitation, before it could either flee or attack someone else. The creatures were similar in body to the tigers of the east, with cat-like claws and long tails, but I did not understand the elongated bear-like faces and fangs. Neither bears nor cats hunted in packs, and certainly they would not take unknown prey like this.
“They are not entirely animal,” said Pascalli. “Look.”
Before my eyes the dead began to shed portions of their furry skin. The faces melted into something almost human, black like the monkeys of the south, but still with the pale green eyes.
“What evil is this?” asked Dina between painful breaths.
“A remnant from the breaking,” I answered. “This is why we have come, to make things right.”
Fortunately, Dina’s wound was not as serious as it could have been. The claws had cut cleanly enough, but I knew that I would not be able to see the source of infection and sickness until after it started. I found my bag of herbs and began cutting bandages.
She still did not trust me, and when I moved to help her she shied away. “I will be fine,” she said. “I am not hurt badly.”
“That is something for the healer to judge,” I said. The teeth or claws had rent her leathers and I could clearly see the wounded flesh beneath. “We do not know these creatures. There may be poison in the wound. It needs to be properly cleaned anyway to prevent sickness.”
“I wish we had a proper surgeon,” she said.
“Scratch has experience enough with mercenaries and outlaws,” said Pascalli. “I’m sure he can manage to stitch together a lady.”
I had never before laid eyes upon a woman’s breast, and I daresay that I was very glad for the dim, shadowy light of the one candle Pascalli allowed me to work by. I discovered that she was very beautiful, although I had never really thought about it much. I treated the wound with much more care and tenderness than I believe I had planned, and I am sure she was grateful for that care in the end. I had a bit of tyrnwood that I used to make a poultice to deaden the pain and soak any poison. I am sure that in the cold night air my indelicate fingers did not feel pleasant, and I regretted not having something better for the pain. Three cuts ran around the edge of her left breast, claw marks, and all three required stitches. Afterwards we bundled her in several blankets and sat back to back watching over her the rest of the night.
Once again the wonders of tyrnwood proved useful. By morning Dina practically bounced out of the blankets. Though her arm was still too weak from the torn chest muscles to properly manage a bow, she willingly helped with chores she had complained about only the day before.
After that incident Pascalli pushed us harder to reach Darnuth Keep. All thought of practice or training of any kind vanished. For the first time in what seemed forever I did not rise each day to be soundly beaten by a solid oak staff. Pascalli knew that we would need the protection of the battlements as well as a base from which to hunt and gather supplies for the coming winter. Dina had often hunted for sport with her father and brothers but was unused to surviving in the wilderness without the comforts of her station. She did not know how to cook, though most of our food at the time was cold. She did not find sleeping under the stars comfortable and did not understand that we would be easy prey inside of tents.
“I don’t think Dina is made for the wild,” I observed to Pascalli on evening. “I don’t know if she is strong enough to make it out here.”
“Don’t judge her too swiftly Scratch. There’s a strength there that you don’t see yet. Remember all that you’ve done and seen since leaving home. There were times I wondered about you,” he said.
“I’ll do my best,” I murmured.
Pascalli smiled at me. “A friend is a friend and a good friend even better. She’s a part to play yet. Give her time. Someday you may come to understand the sacrifice she has given to join us. She has freely left behind much that others would struggle their whole lives to gain. We’ll reach the keep in another day. I’ll be relying on your help when we get there. Make sure your head is clear.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
On to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Ten
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Posted by admin on June 1, 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.
We sat, both of us staring at the leaf for a long time. I wondered what it meant, how it was possible, and if Pascalli would teach me more. I can only imagine the thoughts he had as the full realization of the power of the curse he had been given settled on his mind.
“At a glance I could have destroyed a forest,” he mumbled bitterly. The look in his eye burned with a hatred that sent shivers down my spine. I had never before seen him filled with dread or indignant anger. That moment was the only one in which I feared for my safety while in his presence, but the moment passed quickly. “Matters have changed, Scratch,” he said with a finality that brought me quickly to attention. “Now you must become fully my apprentice, at least for a short time, until I can find a more suitable master, which I am afraid may not be possible. Clearly Tylos thrust you upon me to break my heart again.” He winked. “On a more serious note, if it is possible to be more serious, I must take you even more into my confidence now. First, you must not share this experience with anyone, ever.”
I already knew that much, and had not intended to tell anyone anyway.
“Second, you must understand that this means that the enemy can use magic.”
That too was obvious.
“Also that these enemies, for there will be more than one of them, will have had probably eighteen or nineteen winters more than you to learn magic. That is to say that there is at least one Kaarum shaman in this world who has been practicing magic since before you were born.” He seemed completely distracted as he spoke.
“What does all this mean for us here and now,” I finally asked him. “Are we still going to Darnuth Keep?”
“Yes, my boy, oh yes,” he replied. “We very much need to get there, now more than ever. You’ve managed to get a decent handle on that pig-poker, but unfortunately I won’t have time to really train you up properly in case of a real duel. Pray, lad, pray. In the meantime our plans do not change, other than you will have to work extra hard.” He caught my resigned sigh. “I don’t mean cooking and cleaning, Scratch, although there will be plenty of that to go around. You’ll find that these old hands can be useful sometimes, and we’ve a third pair now. I hadn’t counted on using magic until now, so you’ll have to learn to deal with that before you’re really ready.”
We rode into last gate early in the morning. The mud houses looked golden gray in the reflected sunlight. Smoke from cooking fires drifted through the still sky. Though a few dogs called out to each other, only our slow wagon stirred the streets. The village seemed as undisturbed by time as by our small intrusion. The enormous wall, built centuries before, loomed like a large dark hand over even the tallest of the buildings. A wide, worn highway wandered north and stopped abruptly at the enormous black gates. Soldiers sat idly atop the parapets, smoking pipes and watching our approach.
Getting the guards of Last Gate to open their ancient charge proved to be much more hassle than anticipated, but Pascalli took it all in with a laugh. Listening to Pascalli haggle with the gate captain did nothing to ease the building sense of dread inside me.
“The Last Gate has not been opened in over a thousand winters,” said Garret, leader of the guards. “Our law strictly forbids it.”
“I know the law,” said Pascalli. “By the light of Tylos, I made the law. I closed the gate. By the demons in Hieron I made the wall.” His eyes were a blaze of fury that quelled the other man. “Now open the gate or I will, and for good measure I’ll leave it open too. Send word to your master that a ragtag named Pascalli has run off with a bandit and the daughter of the great Taradurk through the Last Gate. Have me hunted if you dare, but do not impede me today.”
In the end Pascalli had his way of course. Only the very stubborn and stupid could repel him for long. The great iron gears, whose teeth were each larger than a man rolled painfully along a course they had not traveled in a millennium. A small crack, just wide enough for our wagon, and then they lurched and yelled and slammed shut, leaving us in silence to face a path that no longer led anywhere.
“I had hoped to go on ahead,” said Pascalli. “There is much to be done before winter, but I dare not delay your training Scratch.” He surveyed the broken, overgrown land ahead. The foothills of the Northern Crown lay covered with thick shrubs and tall unhindered timber. Finding a path for the wagon would be both cumbersome and slow. “We’ll try it this way for a day or two and see how it goes. Once there was a very great highway that ran through here, perhaps it has survived the test of time.”
Only long summers of hard labor would uncover the remains of that ancient thoroughfare. We managed to stumble on an occasional brick, but that was more inconvenience than help. The wagon proved to be utterly useless and an even worse hindrance than first thought. After two days the decision became clear. Either we abandon the wagon and make haste to Darnuth Keep or we keep battling the wagon and risk reaching our destination after the first snows. Either way we would be faced with a lack of critical food-stores.
“Well, what shall it be children?” he asked, though I am sure he guessed our thoughts.
“Ride while we can,” I answered.
“I am a huntress,” said Dina. “We can hunt food when we get there.”
“Perhaps we can,” said Pascalli. “If there is anything fit left to eat in these parts. So be it. Pack all of the grain and blankets, the salt, sugar, gear, and as much of the dried meat as possible. We’ll walk if we have to, but we must make haste.”
Something picked up our trail almost immediately after crossing the Gate. I imagine that our entrance into that solitary territory disturbed a great many creatures. I knew that a skillful hunter tracked us nearly from the beginning. A shadow would move, or occasionally a leaf shuddered against the wind behind us or off to one side. Never close enough to hear, always near enough to make me very nervous. Pascalli also knew immediately that we were being tracked. Only Dina appeared oblivious. The first day Pascalli tried to get me to concentrate on the air while we rode, attempting to repeat the same lesson as before. The lesson proved a complete failure as neither of us could divert enough of our attention away from our followers.
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
On to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Ten
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Posted by admin on May 11, 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 worked at the forge until late in the evening. I found Tarkin, Pascalli, and Dina just finishing a fine meal. “Sit down, lad,” invited Tarkin. “You’ve worked yourself over-hard since you came. I can never repay such kindness. Enjoy some of this roast.”
I knew that I smelled of the forge and that my unwashed face must have appeared rather unruly to Dina. I became conscious for the first time of how graceful she truly was. She had tied her hair in a tight knot at her neck. Her eyes were a penetrating shade of jade, almost like a cat’s that still glared at me across the table. In her boots she stood as tall as me. I noticed that she kept her cutlass and bow close by.
“I believe that you have not been properly introduced,” said Pascalli casually. “This is my knight and protector, Sir Lanseg.” She nodded. “And this is Dina, third daughter of Lord Taradurk.” I bowed deeply, remembering my manners.
I had not learned to speak with much grace and I felt my cheeks flush, so I did the only thing my mouth was good for and stuffed it with food.
“Her ladyship has come to avenge the loss of the blacksmith, Sir Lanseg,” said Tarkin. “She is a very great hunter of evil, both of men and creatures.” The farmer seemed genuinely excited about the arrival of that surly girl. “She was just telling us of a particularly nasty creature. Please continue.”
“There really isn’t much more to it,” she replied. “We came upon them just after dawn and slew them quickly.”
“What sort of creatures were they?” asked Tarkin.
“Beasts that walk like men, with horns and claws. One had the head of a dog, the other the head of a goat. Both were covered in black fur and scales.”
I opened my mouth to say Kaarum, but caught Pascalli’s eye and stuffed it with food instead.
“When was this?” asked Pascalli.
“Two markets ago, near the great wall,” she replied.
“Do you hear that Lanseg?” he said. I nodded. “We will have to make haste. We must be at our destination before winter arrives and already the hills grow dangerous.”
“After we solve the murder,” I said bluntly.
“Oh, of course,” he continued casually. “We were just discussing the matter when you arrived. I have done some scouting, and I believe we will be able to take care of that problem without too much trouble in the morning. Then it will be a small matter for the farm to find a new smith and we can be on our way.”
“Where are you going?” asked Dina.
“Why, to Darnuth Keep, my dear,” said Pascalli as casually as if we were taking a summer stroll to go fishing. My jaw dropped. My fork dropped. I did not have the presence to even hide my surprise my stuffing my mouth again. Winters now of traveling in secrecy and he just spouted it off.
“You are joking of course,” replied Dina, her voice betraying her shock. “That place is haunted, filled with deadly evil beasts. Legend has it that it was cursed from the breaking and can never be made whole again.”
“Never is a very long time,” said Pascalli. “Despite the dangers we are going there. I am surprised at you, Dina, frightened of mere stories when you have yourself fought and conquered evil. I should think you would want to come with us.” Now I really was struggling to keep myself composed. The last thing I wanted along was a silly girl who couldn’t take care of herself, let alone help out in a tight spot. But my fears were unfounded.
“I have other duties,” she replied. “I am not always free to chase my quarry or to follow fools into darkness.”
“Of course,” replied Pascalli, and as far as we were all concerned the matter was closed. The conversation turned to more mundane topics until I drifted to sleep at the table from exhaustion.
The morning found us looking for over-sized gopher holes. “What we are looking for, are holes about this large,” described Pascalli very carefully. He held his hands apart to form a circle about the size of my head. “They will be surrounded by the burrowed out dirt, and probably by a sort of yellow slime or yellow dirt. I have already marked three of them, but there should be a few more, possibly as many as ten or twelve.”
“What do we do when we find them,” I asked.
“Just mark them with a stick, like this, and a bit of cloth.” He handed each of us a few strips of cloth. “Whatever you do, do not put your hand or foot inside one of these holes! The creatures inside can be very dangerous, as you will soon see.”
As Pascalli had guessed, the work was relatively quick and easy. Both Tarkin and I had experience hunting vermin of this sort in the fields, so we knew what signs to look for. Dina learned quickly what we were searching for, and in less than an hour we had all nine burrows marked.
Pascalli gathered us together with several of the other farm workers. “Now for the fun part,” he said. Each of you put a generous amount of this powder down a hole, all except one hole, which Lanseg and Dina will watch with their bows.” He passed a generous round of reddish powder to eight different willing parties. “When I give the signal, put your torches to the powder. Mind you be careful, and if you see any creature coming out of the hole run back away and call out for assistance.”
“What are we to do?” asked Dina.
“Shoot them as they come out, of course.” Pascalli winked. “I did say this was the fun part, didn’t I. Oh, but be careful not to get bitten. I believe you will find that they move spectacularly fast when frightened, and their venom is quite deadly.”
Just as planned, eight torches set off fire and smoke in unison and a few short seconds later out crawled seven enormous lizards. I call them lizards but truly they were more like giant centipedes with lizard-like heads. They sported just one vicious fang, almost like a horn. Their mouths opened with rages of fear, pain and anger as they emerged, and their bulbous eyes blinked in the morning sun. One by one we shot them with our arrows as they emerged. Most of them required more than one shot to stop. They had some inner desire to keep moving, to keep attacking that went far beyond normal instinct. The last one very nearly reached Dina’s legs before I put an arrow through its eye. She gave me a grudging thank you, and turned to survey the situation.
After a few moments, the fury was over and I began skinning one of the creatures. “What could you possibly want with that,” asked Dina, a look of disgust on her face.
“New boots,” I suggested, indicating my worn footwear. I’m not sure what made me continue, “I can make a pair for you if you’d like.” The words seemed to escape my lips before I knew I was even speaking.
She looked at first taken aback, and then wary, then replied, “I’m sure you’ll be long gone before you can finish them. Besides I have business.”
“Then I will send them to your father as a trophy of his daughter’s triumph.” To my surprise there was no note of mockery in my voice. She had done very well that day and I did want to make up.
“Thank you,” she stammered. I believe that was the first time someone had sincerely complimented her in her life, if not, it was certainly the most powerful. She was used to the idle prattle of hangers-on and the expected kindnesses of servants.
“Taking trophies already I see,” interrupted Pascalli. “Wonderful. I could use a new belt, but mind the fangs and let me know if you see any of their eggs.”
“I’ll be careful,” I grumbled. “The hides are already spoken for.”
“Oh well, another time then,” responded Pascalli cheerfully. “Ho, Tarkin, come see what we’ve managed.” The farmer was already halfway to us of course. “Now mind you that we may not have gotten all the eggs. If we didn’t you’ll see a few young come out in one or two markets. The young will be looking for mice or frogs, whatever they can get. I suggest you set some traps around the burrows at night. Go ahead and plug as many as you can.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
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Posted by admin on May 4, 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.
At some point between villages, far to the west, but not yet as far as Darnuth Keep, my horse threw a shoe and forced me to beg the use of a forge at a remote farm. The farm was large enough to almost be a village, and we were sure our luck would be good. Naturally events didn’t go quite as expected. The good man of the farm was willing enough to accept our gold, but explained that their smith had died, and no one else knew the art for some kilometers around. I explained that I could do the work myself if only they would lend us the forge, at which point he became both intrigued and much friendlier.
“You see, Galin, the smith, was murdered just two days ago, and we’ve not had word back yet from Daturk-thrull if their smith can come and do some work here, or if his apprentice is ready or willing to come,” said master Tarkin.
“I don’t imagine anyone would be willing to take his place until the murder is solved,” I said. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Well, no, actually.” Tarkin scratched his head and shrugged. “I would love to, but the truth is none of us knows. Galin just went into the woods for a bit of an evening stroll down by the creek and never came back. In the morning we found his body.”
“How did he die? Do you know what killed him?”
“There were three wounds, one on the back of his left leg, one in the heart, from the front, and one on his right shoulder, all deep cuts like those from a dagger. There was a rumor a few markets back that Edelo Cheshk’s bandits may have returned to the area, but there aren’t any signs of a struggle, and he was a large strong man who would have at least hurt one of them. I’m assuming there were more than one since one man would have had to be very skilled to take Galin like that and not get the same in return, armed or not.”
Pascalli, who had listened quietly to our conversation interrupted. “We will offer your farm some protection until a new smith can be found. Young Sir Lanseg has the ability to act as smith for a short while. He was once apprentice to a very great smith. Although his specialty is weapons, he can handle horseshoes just as well.”
Once again I found myself laboring at the forge. This time I gave direction to a boy even younger than myself. The work became a pleasant distraction to the questions that had plagued me earlier. I discovered for the first time in my life the true wonder of being master of a small domain and I found I was happier then than at any time since leaving the farm. Pascalli seemed to disappear for the next two days until a new rider appeared on the farm. She was a young woman, perhaps two or three summers my elder dressed in rich hardened leather and sporting a solid bow for hunting. At her side hung a traditional Tulandish cutlass. Her hair fell dark and straight from beneath the solid metal cap atop her head.
Too rich for a bandit, too surly for a beggar, I knew instantly that she was trouble. She moved with an enchanting, self-assured grace that immediately drew attention from all within eyeshot. I, however, did not notice her immediate arrival. Tulath, my assistant pointed her out.
“You there,” she called to the first person she met. “Go and fetch me the master of this farm.”
Before turning back to my work I noticed that her horse did not quite walk properly. I knew that it had cast a shoe and would be lame if not properly tended soon. Sure enough she rode directly towards the forge. She stopped short of the shop and dismounted.
Tulath began to step aside when I ordered, “Mind your fire, we’ve work yet to finish.” I did not bother to look up from the plow-blade I was mending.
“You there,” she called. I knew she would be angry, I had known enough of her breed to smell them a kilometer off. “My horse has cast a shoe. You will replace it at once.”
Tulath had slackened his pace at the bellows. “Mind your fire,”I ordered. My voice was more gruff than intended. I glanced up long enough to look her over. “That hoof will need a day or two of rest before it can be worked. Stable your mare and I’ll take care of her when I’ve a chance.”
“I am in haste. I am Dina, third daughter of the house of Taradurk; you will not keep me waiting.” She was brandishing her horsewhip rhythmically.
Pascalli had told me of the Regent Taradurk who served as lord over all the west, but the lessons of Iven were cast more solid into my soul than any fear of a title. “Surely the daughter of Taradurk knows when a horse is lame,” I replied. She swung with the whip, but the blow never connected. She had not expected my reaction, and in one swift move I stepped inside of her wide swing and grabbed her wrist. Then with a hard jerk I flung her over my shoulder and sent her sprawling on the ground beneath her horse.
“You will die for that, peasant,” she said icily.
“Not at your hands,” I replied coolly. “And if you had the brains of your horse you would have realized I am not a peasant.”
A moment of doubt quickly flickered across her eyes. I was certain she did not entirely believe me.
“He speaks the truth, daughter or Taradurk,” said a voice I had not heard the last two days. Pascalli wandered up next to her horse and was examining the leg.
“Who are you?” she blurted. “Why should I believe you?”
“Better you should ask what truth I was referring to,” he replied. I immediately burst out in a laugh and turned back to my work. “You see, my dear Dina, he has, after all, told you several things, all of which are true, and you seem rather obstinate about not believing any of it. And my name is Lord Pandrake of Gratterskeep, not that it will do you much good.” His voice was unusually kind though slightly condescending. He extended a hand to help her to her feet. She took it cautiously, and together they followed Tarkin into the farmhouse.
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
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Posted by admin on April 27, 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.
After Enbeck-thrull we kept even more to the wild if possible. I understood that the villagers would surely spread the news of such interesting events far and wide for winters to come, and that the Lord of Gratterskeep would be long remembered there. Such notoriety could only attract the attention of the local lords and eventually the regent.
We reached the northern wall and turned west. Here the villages appeared less frequently, and we spent many nights beneath the endless stars. In those days I took my watch alone as Pascalli slept. It was not unusual for him to share a portion of my watch, or for me to share a portion of his, as it is a very lonely business traveling in the wild.
One night beneath the canopy of stars I sat considering the fate that had dragged me from home. I found the fragment’s of Anaria’s flower in the bottom of my pack and missed the farm and everything I had left behind. My father’s bow and spear waited within reach of my hand, but he had not taught me their use or history.
“Tell me about my father,” I asked Pascalli.
“Halfspear was not the name he was born with,” answered the wizard. “He accepted that name in honor of his skill with weapons. After his first battles he returned home an orphan, so the name stayed and he has passed it on to you.”
“I only knew him as a farmer,” I said.
“A man may be many things and yet remain a mystery to those who love him best. I knew him as a soldier and a leader of men,” said Pascalli.
“What does that make me?” I asked.
“It doesn’t make you anything?” Pascalli laughed. “Your father chose to become a farmer. You have chosen to follow me, and I will train you to be a soldier and a hunter and a dozen other things. In the end you will be whatever you make of yourself, or whatever Tylos makes of you.”
“What will that be?” I asked.
“You’re full of questions tonight. Nobody knows the mind of the gods, lad. I’m going to get some rest. Wake me before you not off.”
Pascalli wrapped himself in his blankets. I felt unusually awake as questions raced through my mind. Somehow I wanted to prove that I could be more than a farmer, and yet a part of me wished only to return to Dunston and live a peaceful life.
Suddenly I felt warmth about me, not just simple comfort, but actual heat, as if surrounded by gentle flames, and a light shone over me such as that of the high-noon summer sun. Around me, the camp glowed white, and the sweet fragrance of dew-covered grass filled my nostrils. Then She stood before me, her feet just above the grass. Though I felt no breeze, her hair rippled in ever-changing locks of purest red and gold, swirling about her perfect face. Her skin appeared as white as the undiscovered snow. She wore a shimmering robe of palest blue or silver, so bright was the light that my mortal eyes could not tell. When she spoke, her voice was as the gentle spring rains, both soft and soothing but so strong it held my very soul captive.
“Colter, son of Kyven my beloved champion, do not fear.” Although I was quite startled, I do not believe I was afraid but those eyes of blue fire impressed upon me her great power. “Be not dismayed for your father. He has earned his reward and rests with me. The tasks he chose to leave unfinished were his to leave.”
I could not speak although my mind raced with a thousand questions. I wanted so much to know about myself, about my future, about my family, about Pascalli. Much of what went through my mind was no more than the innocent ramblings of youth, but there were other burning important questions.
“Do not trouble your mind and heart for the future, my child. Your choices will also be your own to make, and you will know what they are when the time comes. I have come now to the realm I broke so long ago that it may begin to heal, and that through you the healing may begin should you choose it. Do not fear, for if you stand by me then none may thwart you though the way will not be easy even until the day you pass into my eternal realm.”
My thoughts turned to Pascalli and the breaking and to Darnuth Keep, and I knew instantly she could tell all my thoughts.
“Follow the counsel of the wizard, for his task is great and he has much to do before his curse can be lifted. He will never again betray me, and his heart and mind are ever upon the task at hand. Look not to the past for the answers, my child. None before you have done what must be done, only look at what you have. I have sent others to aid you, and in time even others will find you. When the calamities foretold begin to unfold they will flock to the banner you will raise.”
“And if I don’t want to,” I thought. I instantly felt a pang of regret for even thinking such cowardly things.
“Do not fear men.” Her voice, though I could not hear a change, felt firmer, stronger, and more potent. “Do not fear death. Do not fear the future. Know that I am with you always through fire and pain and darkness. When the demons of Hieron gather against you and summon their allies here to defeat you, I will stand by you and your spear will shine with my power.”
“How am I to know what to do? Where to go?” Now I longed to serve but I still did not understand my full purpose.
“That will come in time. Follow your feelings and you will know. I will be with you always.”
Then as quickly as She had appeared She was gone. I found that I was kneeling in the grass staring into the stars. I blinked. The odor of dew and spring rain still hung heavy in my nostrils. I sat back, my mind a whir of wonder and hope. Pascalli stirred in his sleep, and I realized that the first rays of dawn were just edging their way over the horizon.
I didn’t say anything to Pascalli right away about my experience. He allowed me to choose my own time for the telling, although I am sure he knew something had happened as soon as he saw me that morning. “I’m sure you have more questions than answers now,” he said when I finished the tale. “That is usually what happens when we learn something important.”
“She said that you are cursed, but that I should do what you tell me.” There were indeed a hundred questions, but I didn’t know which were safe to ask, so I thought I would try to hardest first.
Pascalli paused. I felt that I had hit upon a nerve, but then he chuckled. “Yes, my boy, I am the most cursed man in the world, and well I deserve it. Perhaps one day you will come to understand the full depth of who and what I am, but I doubt it. After so many centuries I am barely beginning to understand.” His chuckle ended and then he shook his head. Sadness passed across his face like I had not seen in his face before. “The world was not always as it is. Before the breaking, magic flourished everywhere and in everything. The most common of villages, and in those days there were many more villages and towns and cities, had magic to help their crops grow and to heal sick animals.”
“But the most powerful magic was reserved for great men of learning and study. We, that is to say I and some of my closest associates, delved deeply into the very powers that create and mold life in this world. We developed mastery over the elements, over the basest of creatures, and eventually over death. Or at least our power extended mostly over death, for our lives expanded beyond that of the average man. But with such great power came great greed and lust.”
“There are those in the world now, just as there were then, who believe that power that is not used is not really power. That is a lie, Scratch, a very cunningly crafted lie that leads only to pain and misery. For a time I believed it. When we reach Darnuth Keep you will see much of the results. In short, some of my comrades attempted to use magic to twist life to serve their basest whims. Through intrigue and through open warfare they established their petty kingdoms. Eventually we divided more or less into two groups, and then we went to war. One the one hand there were those who sought to preserve magic and use it only to enhance, heal and build. On the other side were those who wished to use it to create their own version of life. They would abuse it to suppress, curse, and build after their own image.”
I couldn’t help but ask, “How did the war go?”
“Better you should ask which side I was on, first,” said Pascalli. “Each point in its proper order.”
“Very well,” I said. “Which side were you on?” Only after the words were out of my mouth did I realize that there were so many possible meanings to the question.
“I was on the wrong side,” responded the wizard.
“You mean you were with the evil wizards?”
“No, I mean that both sides were wrong and that I was too slow to realize my mistake. But for your information I was indeed the leader of what you would consider to be the evil wizards, although we were not so much evil as mistaken. And since we won, we would hardly consider ourselves evil. Generally only those who lose the great wars are considered the bad or evil enemy, as the victors get to write history.”
“So you killed all the good wizards?” I asked bluntly.
“Always so black and white with the young,” he replied. He had an air of irritability now, and I knew I should listen more and talk less. “Of course we killed them. They were our sworn enemies. And in the process both sides killed millions of innocents and ruined the lives of countless others. We took this world from a state of beauty and grace to a state of near constant warfare, and we broke our goddess’ heart. She warned us, but we did not all heed the warning. Instead some of us thought we could undo what had been done, yet others thought that now we had a fresh world that we could reshape to fit our own desires just as we had wanted.”
“We built massive fortresses and in them began experimenting. One by one we turned out abominations and fancies and wonders. And one by one we began again to be envious and covetous of the power that the others held. We no longer shared our secrets with others, and for a generation hid ourselves from each other and the world. Then, as if by common consent, we resurfaced and went again to war against each other.”
“In the wake of that final war, we broke the world. That is to say we drove the Veldmen forever from the surface. We destroyed the long memories of the Darkunders. We shattered the spirits and histories of all the races of men. We destroyed civilization, and we destroyed each other. I say we, only because I did not stop them from what they did. There were three of us who saw the folly of it before it completely unfolded, and we petitioned to Tylos to save the world, but she was as slow to hear us as we had been slow to obey her. When the war subsided she finally appeared.”
“The three of us met together with the victor of that horrible war. Then Tylos appeared and she told us that the ability to create new magic had been taken from the world. We could no longer control the elements or create new abominations. We were saddened, but also understood. Then we were all cursed to repair what we had done and charged to make the world whole again. Three of us readily agreed, but the last, who had come only to demand our surrender saw this as his opportunity to cement his place as ruler of the world and returned with his army to his fortress.”
“You see, Scratch, he knew that even though he could not continue to experiment, he could still use the tools he had, and he knew or at least he believed that we did not have armies sufficient to resist him. Tylos cursed us three again, charging us that as long as he lived neither we nor the world would see any rest. What this means, in part, Scratch, is that I cannot age, or even become ill as long as he is alive, but it also means that neither can he. My other two companions were lost shortly after when we used our remaining resources to stop his armies, and for these hundreds of winters I have been trying to find a way to stop him.”
He did not continue. I knew he was allowing me to absorb everything he was telling me. “Then my father was helping you also, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, Scratch. He was a very brave man.”
“But he loved my mother too much to finish it, didn’t he,” I said. I didn’t know what to feel about it.
“Yes, my boy, he did. But you must not hold that against him. Didn’t She tell you that it was his choice?” The wizard looked at me kindly. “Do not worry if you will fail like your father because he didn’t fail. And do not worry about being less than your father because in the end he didn’t succeed. So either way you can do no worse, even if you quit now. You’ve already proven to me that you’ve got what’s necessary to finish this, so you may as well try it.”
That rare compliment put my position in perspective in an odd way. I began to understand my purpose in that moment. As we continued west I often thought of my experience and Pascalli’s story but answers came only very slowly.
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
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Posted by admin on April 20, 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.
Pascalli left a few coins with Kimlt before we left as payment for what the soldiers would eat during their stay. The farmer thanked us heartily, and filled our bags with bread and hard cheese. Induresk rode with us a short while to put us on the straightest path. “You’ve shown uncommon kindness, my lord Pandrake,” he said as he took his leave. He hesitated a moment. “I only half believed the word that the wandering Pascalli had returned, and I never believed that Halfspear’s son would come this direction. I’ll send word to see that you aren’t bothered, though there are those who will ignore me.” He handed Pascalli a sealed paper. “Give this to the soldiers at the next check point and you should be able to travel a little more freely.”
I enjoyed the ride north immensely. The Tulanders treated us with respect and I learned to enjoy their customs. The Tulandish word for place was thrull, and usually the place was called after some great ancestor. In every village we were required to take the finest rooms in the inn and served the finest food (all of course paid for with the finest gold). In the east we would have been merely another pair of rag-tags, and could easily have passed for such in the wild and continued un-noticed from village to village.
Tulanders in general have very dark or black hair, though a few have lighter tones. We reached Enbeck-thrull sooner than expected, and Pascalli directed us to a large inn near the center of town. “Go get us lodging,” he ordered, and I went inside without hesitation.
“My lord Pandrake requires a room for the night,” I told the portly man who ran the place.
“My daughter, Emmha will show you the way,” he said. “Do you need stabling as well?”
“Two horses. We haven’t much baggage.” A little girl, perhaps six or seven emerged to guide me to the rooms on the second floor. Her light brown hair seemed so out of place. It reminded me of my sister, and of Laural. I wondered how Laural fared since I left her. When I saw the girl’s face I realized that I missed the friends I had left behind.
The lord mayor of the village, a small, balding man whose thin dark hair hung below his shoulder in the back sat at dinner with my master the first evening we were in town. I believe, had Pascalli not warned me very carefully beforehand, that I would have probably caused us a great deal of trouble that night.
I can still see the mayor’s skinny face and sallow eyes that darted in every direction as he consumed every bit of food in sight.
“I’m sorry that the pheasant is a little dry,” mentioned the mayor to my master with a glance at the uneaten portion on Pascalli’s plate. His voice carried a tone of anxiety mixed with contempt. “I don’t know why the innkeeper chose to serve this. There are far better delicacies to tempt the appetite here.”
“Yes, it is quite disappointing,” replied the wizard. “Take it away,” he said and nodded to me. I had personally witnessed Pascalli positively inhale cooking much worse than that on numerous occasions, after all he did eat my cooking, and I knew something was amiss. I respectfully bent to take the dish and caught a stern look, which I knew meant I should pay attention, but which the lord mayor took to mean that I had better return with something more pleasing.
“Perhaps some dumplings, my lord,” suggested the mayor. “Our cook is famous for the sauce. I believe you will find it very good.”
“Thank you,” replied Pascalli. “Please find something better to drink.”
The lord mayor rose and I followed him to the kitchens where he met with the innkeeper. “What is this filth you serve?” he bellowed. “Do you not know I could lose my head for displeasing the nobility?” He grabbed the dish I held and flung it at the man. Then he stormed into the kitchens. Curious, I followed, which seemed to please him a great deal as he now had an audience. Quivering, the innkeeper followed us.
The cook was an ancient man whose wrinkled but stern glance commanded his domain with ease. At first he seemed little more than annoyed at the interruption, barely glancing up from his work until the mayor forced himself.
“What kind of trash do you think you are peddling here?” he hollered, instantly bringing all eyes to himself. For a moment I felt the cook would attack the man, but instead he slowly turned and folded his arms quietly. “That food is not fit for swine. I am serving a great nobleman whose tastes are far beyond the ordinary.”
The cook just stood there, looking almost amused but clearly without the fear that would perhaps have sated the mayor’s petty temper. “His lordship demands dumplings, and your finest mead.” The mayor glanced around at the frozen figures. “Get moving!” he shouted. When no one moved he took a step and pushed the nearest servant, a young girl. She scampered into a corner and the mayor backhanded the cook harshly. The old man stumbled back from the force of the blow but regained his composure quickly. When he raised his head a bead of blood formed at the corner of his lip and it began to swell.
“As you wish, lord mayor,” he said quietly, and turned back to his work. Instantly the rest of the kitchen staff began working furiously. The mayor went back upstairs to the fine dining room and I returned a short while later with a bottle of mead.
The master cook himself presented the next course. The dumplings tasted exquisite. Light pastries steamed perfectly with a balanced blend of meats and vegetables. Served with a delectable currant sauce whose particular zest I could not discern for the spices of the region were unknown in the east. The old man managed to catch Pascalli’s eye as he served the remainder of the meal. The mayor treated him with cold scorn. “Pray, dear fellow, that this is better than your last concoction,” he commented.
Pascalli picked indifferently at the presentation, and sipped the mead with quiet reservation. The mayor fidgeted nervously, but obviously did not wish to break the silence. The cook stood impassive, watching the scene unfold from the shadowy candlelight.
“This is the best the provinces have to offer,” said Pascalli to me with a slight nod to his plate. I did not know what to say so I held my tongue. Pascalli seemed to approve, and he continued, “I had hoped for better.”
“It’s that fool of an innkeeper,” muttered the mayor angrily. “He does not know his place. I shall deal with him.”
“How long have you been lord mayor here?” inquired Pascalli, almost casually.
“Twenty winters,” responded the mayor. “In all that time I have never been so disappointed.”
“Then you have obviously had plenty of time to deal with the innkeeper,” cut in Pascalli. His tone was darker now, not quite threatening but certainly ominous. “I am quite sure the innkeeper did not process this mediocre mead,” he suggested.
“No, of course not,” defended the mayor. “It is not a local brew. Ours is generally much better, but it has been a bad winter.”
“Naturally,” replied Pascalli incredulously. “That would explain the filth in your streets as well as the lack of discipline of the village guards. Our papers were not even requested when we entered the village.”
“The captain of the guard is not under my command,” said the mayor, growing a little defiant.
“And it is just as well that he is not, as you have set a poor enough example.” Pascalli was definitely angry now. “I noticed that your own house does not seem to have the same problems as the rest of the village. The trees there are quite green, and the fruit quite ripe. I wonder why you would put us here with these mediocre lodgings when it is quite obvious that your own estate is much grander.”
“I had simply thought you would be more comfortable here.” The mayor’s lie was obvious but inescapable.
“It is quite obvious to me that we will not be comfortable here,” replied Pascalli. His words carried an air of blunt iciness that left the mayor quite breathless. “I am still quite hungry, and very tired, and very much in need of a bath.”
“Of course I shall expect you presently,” was all he could manage as he rose.
The meal and entertainment that followed at the mayor’s villa were rather disappointing, that is to say the entertainment the mayor intended to provide. Pascalli, however, was still feeling quite the rascal and for some reason really wanted to harass the man. The following morning he insisted on seeing the entire estate, and spent a considerable amount of time examining the personal larders, orchards, and fields of the mayor.
“Quite impressive,” he said to the mayor as we went into the village that afternoon, and the mayor positively burst with pride. I believe he was somewhat deflated later when the village guard came calling in search of goods that had been illegally withheld or confiscated and which rightfully belonged either to the village or the provincial regent.
“I believe he meant to bribe us in the end,” said Pascalli as we left Enbeck-thrull a few days later. The village council found him guilty of theft and hung him in the village square.
“The place seemed peaceful. I don’t understand why they were so happy to see him hang,” I said.
“That is the way of petty tyrants. In their own way they can be more dangerous than bad kings. A man may see his king once in a lifetime, but he must live everyday with his local lord or mayor. Stamp out the oppressors when you can, Scratch, but do so carefully.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” I agreed.
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
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Posted by admin on April 13, 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.
When we passed the gates of Anascrag I felt I had stepped into a vast ocean of grain. Everywhere, in every direction, kilometers of wheat, barley, or rye stretched green or golden with the ever-present wind blowing at our backs or into our squinting eyes. The highways cut wide and straight between the larger towns and cities while less well maintained roads meandered to the villages and large farms. Imperial guards monitored checkpoints and patrolled the roads with greater frequency and precision than anywhere in the east. Bricks and clay built nearly every building for both peasant and noble, though some of the wealthy had imported timber from the south or east.
“In the east, the vast tracts of wild land are largely unexplored except by the wild roaming adventurers,” explained Pascalli. “In the west the governors build great walls, hundreds or even thousands of kilometers long to block out the unknown. The Anascraggers call it the land beyond the wall, but it once was the very great kingdom of Tuland. Every young Tulandish man serves his time patrolling those walls or the great highways or filling some other lesser post in the imperial army. Adventuring, or doing anything out of the ordinary, is not only frowned upon, but requires exact, defined permission from the proper authorities. Acting without authority or outside of class boundaries can mean severe punishment or even death. They will make some exceptions, Scratch, because you are clearly an uncouth easterner, but only a very few. Do as I say, when I say it and all will be well.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said.
“Of course you will.” Pascalli smiled. “Keep your wits about you. The regent, here in the west holds more control over the local lords than the regent in the east. If he has chosen to find us for the emperor he will succeed.”
Almost as quickly as we exited Anascrag we joined a road going north towards the mountains rather than west towards the sea. A great wall runs north from the western gate of Anascrag and then after a few hundred kilometers it turns west and runs near the base of the mountains to the sea. Along the wall, centuries ago, many villages sprang up to support the guard towers and the many imperial troops who constantly patrol and repair the wall. Many acres of grain surround each village, far more than meets the needs of the local peasant population.
When I asked Pascalli he replied, “It goes to the Empire, Scratch. Just as the gold of east goes west, and the copper and tin of the south comes north.”
“What comes from the north,” I asked plainly.
Pascalli let out his familiar laugh and replied with a grin and a wink, “Nothing of great worth.”
“What do you mean,” I pressed. “The emperor is there in Dynwater, right? Isn’t that where the imperial army is?”
“As I said, nothing of great worth,” answered Pascalli with less laughter in his voice than usual. He must have noticed my look of dismay and disbelief. “That is not to say that there aren’t a great many wonderful things in Dynwater. Many great artisans and artists, poets, architects, and engineers practice and study there. There is a magnificent library and a huge collection of artifacts from before the breaking. Much knowledge, much pomp, much wealth. But you did not ask me what you could find in the north, only what comes out. None of that, or at least very little of it, ever comes out. And Dynwater is only one city. The rest of the north is the Northern Crown and it is wild, a place where wild things thrive and out of it come the Kaarum. So, as you can plainly see nothing of great worth comes from the north.”
Such as it was I could clearly see the truth in what he spoke, though I sensed there was more to it.
Once out of Anascrag we set a brisk pace north. Each day Pascalli ensured I completed my practice with my weapons, and he continued to expand my mind with stories and puzzles he had learned through the centuries. I was keen to learn more about defending myself without weapons, and after a few days of constant badgering Pascalli consented to teach me. “Fighting is fighting,” he said. “In general you will find that the principles are mostly the same. Use your feet to get a better position and strike when able. As always, the power comes from the hips and legs. You have to put your whole body into a strike, not just your fists or feet.”
“What happens when they sit on me?” I asked, after being tripped for the sixth time one day.
“There are ways of dealing with a larger opponent on the ground, but you must always be wary that they may have a hidden knife or sap. Indeed, if you are confident they are unarmed it is often easier to handle a larger foe on the ground where their longer limbs do not give them the advantage of reach.”
I discovered that grappling with an enormous man in dirt and rocks was not terribly comfortable and consented after a few short markets that I knew enough to at least stabilize myself until I could bring a weapon into play.
“We will continue this portion of your training when we have a proper chance,” said Pascalli with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve a notion it will be rather important to your future, but now is not the time.”
The remainder of our days we spent much as always, hunting when possible, or at the very least daily practice with the bow as we walked. Pascalli would pick a target and if I did not spot it quick enough, pull and loose, he would rap me sharply across the shoulder with his staff.
“Again you’ve got yourself killed,” he would mutter. “Now off and fetch that arrow.” If ever I reached the mark before his staff reached his, he would often say, “Good lad, now that’s one more life you can spare for another day. Now off and fetch that arrow.”
Once, as I rode out to find my arrow, I met a patrol of imperial troops. “Hold, boy,” their leader called. He was a stout man with thick bones that rode easily in the saddle. His uniform, though clean, showed wear around the edges. Tulandish soldiers did not wear beards, but he had a bit of black stubble on his face, and I noticed they carried tents and bedrolls. I stopped and waited. Pascalli slowly rode up to join me. “Hunting is a privilege of the nobility. Perhaps you have not learned proper manners in the east,” said the soldier. His voice was gruff and betrayed his impatience.
“Better manners than you, I see,” replied Pascalli. “This is my servant and knight, Sir Lanseg. I am Lord Pandrake of Gratterskeep. I believe it is the custom to properly identify any person before issuing a challenge. Fetch the arrow, Lanseg.”
I continued my search for the arrow as Pascalli handed the soldiers his papers. I retrieved the arrow and rejoined the wizard. “Your documents are correct,” said the soldier. “We don’t get many eastern nobles this far north, please excuse my rudeness. The bandit Edelo Cheshk has been raiding through these parts again, so we are closely watching anyone with a weapon.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Pascalli with a broad smile. “I know hunting for sport can be a tricky business in the west, but Lanseg and I were hoping to get something. If there are bandits in the area, perhaps you would offer us some protection, at least until we reach the next village?”
The soldier hesitated. “Captain Induresk, at your service,” he said as he forced a smile. “We would be happy to escort you to Enbeck-thrull. We can reach it tomorrow afternoon.”
“We are not merchants, but we will pay for your services,” offered Pascalli. At the wizard’s words, Induresk showed a genuine smile. “I expect you don’t get the opportunity to make an extra coin too often so far from Shelsmor.”
“Only too true, my friend,” agreed the captain. “The few authorized mercenaries that come through here take most of the merchants’ business. Few of the local nobles are willing to pay for a service the regent offers them freely.”
Induresk rode with three other soldiers, all of them tired from their extended patrol. They guided us toward a more traveled road where we would be able to move faster. Just as the sun began to set I spotted a patch of bent wheat field. I dismounted and investigated on foot. When Induresk noticed that I had fallen behind he called a halt.
“What have you found, my young friend,” he called. “If you’ve found a pretty girl hiding in the grass, you’ll let us know.” The soldiers laughed as I looked for prints in the dry ground. When I found what I was looking for I waved to Pascalli. He joined me, and Induresk followed him.
I pointed to a shallow hoof-print in the ground. “So a horse has been through here, what does that matter?” said Induresk. “We came this way a few days ago, and there are farmers and merchants about.”
“It’s not a horse,” I replied. “That is a cleft hoof.”
“So a farmer lost a goat. Let’s get moving. I want to find a better place before the sun completely sets,” said the captain.
“Lanseg has experience in these matters, captain,” said Pascalli. “I believe he is telling you that there are Kaarum in the area.” I nodded my agreement.
“How many, and how far?”
“Three. I can’t say how far, but they were going southwest, through the fields. I would guess they came through this morning or last night,” I said.
“How far to the closest farm or village in that direction?” asked Pascalli.
“Two days on a good horse,” answered Induresk.
“The sky is clear, so they will travel at night by the light of the stars and moon. You can come or stay as you please, captain, but we need to catch them before they reach the farm,” said Pascalli.
“We thought Edelo Cheshk was raiding the area. How could the Kaarum get past the wall?” said Induresk.
“The wall is very long,” answered Pascalli. A small band like this might sneak past unnoticed. Edelo may still be nearby, but he certainly won’t pillage as recklessly as the Kaarum.”
We rode after them as fast as we could without losing their trail. In the wide-open fields, they had few options for covering their tracks, and even in the dim light of the stars I had little trouble following them. We stopped and rested the horses a few hours before dawn, though I knew we didn’t have much time before they reached another farm.
“They need rest just like us,” assured Pascalli. “I also don’t think they will attack the farm or village during the day, so we may have some time.”
“You seem to know these beasts well,” observed Induresk.
“They ravaged through the east two summers ago. We both fought them then,” replied Pascalli. “We know them well enough.”
The horses smelled the Kaarum before we saw them, and broke their stride. Three black shapes rose out of hiding under the afternoon sun to ambush us on all sides. I shot one before it could charge, but the other two reached the horses with lightning speed. One Kaarum pulled a soldier from his saddle and they began to grapple in the hip-high grain. Under cover of the wheat, I couldn’t get a clear shot at the Kaarum, so I dismounted and charged with my spear. I reached the Kaarum before it could land the fatal blow, though it had already opened a horrible gash in the man’s side. Behind me Induresk wielded his cutlass expertly and came to the aid of his companion as quickly as he could.
“Let’s take him to the farm,” I suggested. “They should be better equipped to tend his wounds than we are.”
“That gash is deep and bleeding fast,” said Induresk. “He won’t last the hour it will take to move him.”
“Do you still have any bloodsap?” asked Pascalli. “It will slow the bleeding long enough to stitch him together.”
I cut away the torn cloth with my knife. “There is some in my bags,” I said. “Give me your canteen.” I cleaned the wound as quickly and efficiently as possible while Pascalli brought the bloodsap. “If you have anything to numb the pain, give it to him, Induresk.”
One of the soldiers produced a bottle of strong-smelling liquid and passed it to Induresk. The soldier choked a few mouthfuls down before I turned him on his side and went to work. My hands trembled as I pulled needle and thread. The bloodsap checked the flow enough that I could see to work, but I could tell from his paleness and labored breathing that he had lost a great deal of blood.
“As fine a field surgery as I’ve seen,” said Induresk when I finished. “Only Tylos can say if he will live or not, but you’ve at least given him a chance.”
I nodded my thanks and sank back into the soft grain to rest a moment. “We’ll ride on to the farm as soon as you’re ready,” said Pascalli. “We can find help there. We may be able to bring back a wagon to move him.”
“You’ve no need to do that my lord,” said Induresk. “I can send one of the others.”
“True, but time is pressing. Unless things are different here than I have come to expect, the peasants will give us less trouble than you. Rest some and eat while you wait. With luck we’ll make it back before nightfall.”
Our faces, and my unwashed hands quickly told the tale of our emergency when we reached the farm. “I’ll have Aldd hitch the wagon,” said the farmer, a thin man with a graying beard. He wore a simple straw hat to ward off the sun, but he carried himself with dignity. “You two come inside and tell us what happened.”
We gratefully dismounted and followed his wife into a simple building designed for comfort and efficiency. She offered us goat’s cheese and bread, which we accepted gratefully. “You keep a fine home, my good lady,” said Pascalli with his usual smile. “Thank you for offering us some comfort.” We recounted our story as the servants prepared the wagon, and Kimlt, the farmer, listened with more than idle curiosity.
“They will be amassing in the north, then,” said Kimlt. “I’ve not seen them for many winters, but when I was a boy they came through the west once. The nobles did nothing to stop them until they had ruined all the fields for many kilometers.”
“They attack swiftly,” said Pascalli. “If they come, it will be in the dead of winter this time. You would be wise to send word to those who will listen to take care where they secure their winter supplies.”
We worked late into the night bringing the wounded soldier carefully into the farm. Induresk and his men pitched their tents in the farmyard, while Pascalli and I slept in the barn. Despite the rigors of the previous night, I found myself restless early the following morning. “We need to reach the keep soon, don’t we,” I said to Pascalli.
“Yes, lad, we do, though not as soon as you may think,” he replied. “The Kaarum won’t come south until they need to. Rebels and strays forage south throughout the summer, and scouts report any weakness that can be found.”
“I still think we need to move on,” I said, and Pascalli nodded his agreement.
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
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Posted by admin on April 6, 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 admit I had tried not to think much of home in all my journeys. I asked for pen and parchment, and she had none, for she did not write and had no use for them. I still had some money and when I asked for directions to a shop, she put it out of my head quickly and instead offered to go and buy them for me. That is when I posted my first letter. Master Baghorn knew of a merchant seeking profit in Havensod by way of the smaller villages. The merchant agreed to deliver my letter.
True to her word I did not lift a finger while a guest in Iven’s home. I thought he would be angry with me loafing about, or just watching him idly at the forge. He was a changed man. A thousand worries vanished from his face. His sons are older than me, and had already married, though they lived close by.
“I’ve an idea of how to build some of those machines the Veldmen used,” said Iven as he idly swept the floor of his shop. His home and workshop sat next to the canal that ran through the artisan district, and a small waterwheel powered some of his machines. “My wire puller needs repair anyway, and I’d like to try it with steam this time.”
“Sounds like a fine idea, but you’ll need lime I think if you want to pull it that fast,” I said.
“Your right about that, though I think I know where to get it. I’ve a bit of coin laid by from our travels. If you’ve finished your letter home, I’d find it a favor if you could find those old drawings we made and sort them out for me.”
I found our sketches in the half un-packed bags, and worked easily. Iven’s home was large, and the balcony upstairs offered a view of the street where I could watch the colorful traffic of the city. The university of Anascrag stood on a low hill not far from the shop, and students and nobles frequented the road. Further out the dome of Tylos’ temple dominated the center of the city. I counted three palaces in the northern half of the city, with the largest occupying a hill in the northwest.
Pascalli knocked on the door just about supper time some two markets later. My gear had been repaired, my horse replaced, and he even supplied me with new clothes and a new hat. I accepted the gifts, reluctantly, and he saw the question in my eyes. “You’ll look the ragtag again soon enough, don’t worry about that. In the meantime we’ve other matters to attend to which require a slight change of appearance.”
“When do we leave?” I asked.
“As soon as you finish your meal,” he replied, and winked at Whinnie. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I’ve not had a chance to drop by sooner. Could you spare a bowl of porridge for an old man?”
“Sit down, at once,” scolded Whinnie. “You leave him and take him as if he were baggage. Porridge it will be for you and nothing better.” Despite her warning, Whinnie served the finest they owned.
Iven seemed a little detached while we ate, and I wondered a bit at his silence. Afterwards he found me to help me pack the few things I owned. He brought me my father’s spear, newly sharpened.
“Do as Pascalli asks,” he counseled. “He still has a mean trick or two up his sleeve, and many hard lessons left for you, but only because he loves you Colter.” He never used my proper name, and for a moment I thought he had said something else.
“I’ll miss you,” I admitted, though I felt odd saying it aloud.
Iven harrumphed, but nodded. “You’ll have little enough time to think of anything, least of all me. But you’re always welcome back here. Remember that. You’ve friends along the way, though maybe no home to go to. Sooner or later that wizard will turn you loose on the world, just don’t forget who your friends are then.”
“I won’t,” I replied.
“And don’t get mixed up with anymore silly girls.”
“I won’t.”
“Or knaves.”
“I won’t.”
“And by Tylos keep your blade sharp and your armor clean.” The smith seemed as full of advice as I had ever known him.
“Do you know where we are going?” I asked.
“It doesn’t really matter. You’ve a future and greatness ahead of you. Already you’ve done more than most men dream. Keep your head and remember the forge you came from.”
Iven hugged me tighter than Whinnie as I said goodbye, and wept as only a father can who is sending off a son who may never return. Whinnie filled my pack with sweet cakes and carefully packaged treats for the journey.
“I’ve little to give you that you might need,” said Whinnie. “There is a nice man who collects strange herbs, and he’s given me some bloodsap and a few leaves of tyrnwood. It isn’t much, but it may be useful.” She gave me a packet of the herbs wrapped in a small cloth.
“Come along, Scratch,” said Pascalli. “We’ve a bit to do yet today.”
I followed the old wizard up a winding lane towards the center of the city. We passed houses and shops which grew larger and larger. The finely combed fields of the wealthy sprawled across the upper portions of the city, and I saw private guards in red and gold livery watch us suspiciously as we rode.
“Don’t bother speaking when we arrive,” said Pascalli.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To see one of the nobles.” I wanted to know who and why, but restrained the question. “She has information that we can use.”
Pascalli reigned his horse at a tall wrought-iron gate and pointed to a thin rope attached to a brass bell. “Let them know we’re here, Scratch.”
I rang the bell vigorously and almost immediately a man with a soft green surcoat embroidered with an eagle emerged from a small guardhouse near the gate. Beyond the gate, a narrow carriage path cut through a short-cropped lawn until it reached a wide patio in front of an enormous house.
The guard reviewed us cautiously. Pascalli tipped his hat and smiled, but said nothing. “You are expected,” said the guard at length. If you will ride to the house, Jorgon will see to your horses.”
“I thought Jorgon had given up his duties,” said Pascalli with a smile.
“He couldn’t bear to be with his wife that much and came back within a market.” The guard chuckled. “He still complains as much as ever, but he only half means it these days.”
A surly gray bearded man took our horses when we dismounted at the house, and before we reached the door it opened. “Go directly to the dining hall,” instructed a stocky young woman.
A woman with gray hair restrained by a series of pins and crowned with a small green hat waited for us at the far end of an enormous oak table. Her eyes commanded the entire room. A young woman waited silently behind her. The surface of the table reflected the hanging candelabra.
“Leave us, Maris,” said the old woman. The girl moved silently past us and closed the dining room door. “You may sit, if you wish.”
I glanced at Pascalli who winked back and smiled broadly. I pulled out one of the several enormous chairs and sat as quietly and still as possible.
“The estate has changed little since I was here last,” said Pascalli with a smile.
“You come too seldom, my friend.” She turned her eyes on me. “You are Kyven’s boy? What is your proper name?”
“Colter,” I replied.
“Colter was my father’s name,” she said. “My name is Lady Dairtha. I am a cousin to the Taradurk’s though from what I’ve heard that won’t mean anything to you. Your father was a good friend once upon a time. I was sorry to hear that he had died.”
“We can’t stay long,” said Pascalli. “The Kaarum are already moving. By winter they will reach Darnuth Keep and begin to breach the passes. I we don’t stop them there they will ravage across the East again.”
“With the Festival coming we won’t be able to recover,” replied Lady Dairtha.
“Which is why I need to know how dangerous the roads are in the west,” said Pascalli.
“Avoid the highway. The Taradurk is not well. His son’s will not trust you the way he did.” She seemed lost in thought as she spoke.
“Zaban has solid judgment. I’m less worried about him than Favisham,” said Pascalli.
“Favisham is pressing hard to carry the festival this time. He has poured everything into raising a whelp of sufficient strength. You won’t need to worry about him until after the festival. All his attention is here, and his agents are few and weak outside of Shellburg,” said Lady Dairtha.
“Please warn Narnal that the kaarum will return. Three winters, no more, and they will try the eastern passes again. He must continue to prepare,” said Pascalli. He stood up and motioned for me to follow.
“So quickly? Not even to break bread with me?” she asked.
“Look kindly on the lad when he returns,” said Pascalli.
“If he returns,” replied the lady. Then she broke into a smile. “I will be waiting.”
I think I expected Anascrag to be a dangerous place for us. I knew that the ties to the emperor were strong, and it was simply not possible for us to have wandered so long and word not reach the authorities. “Don’t you think we’ve stretched our luck staying here so long?” I asked Pascalli.
“Sure enough, lad, but we’ve more than a few friends about,” he said. “Now ride just behind me. Keep your eyes open and your mouth closed. The nobility may not be aware of your presence but most will certainly recognize me. I’d like to slip out of the city without drawing attention to ourselves, if possible.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
On to The Cleansing of Darnuth Keep Fantasy Novel Chapter Ten
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Posted by admin on March 30, 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.
If Bracken had resented my presence before, he now openly challenged even Baghorn’s judgment. If we hadn’t needed all the men to help with driving the wagons and handling the stock, I’m sure Baghorn would have dismissed one of us on the spot. We pushed the oxen south as fast as we dared, stopping at villages only long enough to rest, rather than hunt additional profits. Baghorn seemed convinced that his luck had finally run completely dry, and his only hope of avoiding ruin lay behind the gates of Anascrag and his own home.
Like Bracken, I wondered how or why Laural would disappear without any warning. We found their trail easily enough. They kept to the road, heading south, but the wagons had no hope of catching them. Quivain struck east at the first branch of the road, and we heard nothing more of the pair. In addition to the horses, they had taken food and supplies for a long journey, for which Pascalli agreed to recompense the caravan. “Your luck’s not as bad as you might believe, Baghorn,” said the wizard. He smiled and slapped the merchant on the back. “You’ll come through all this with a tidy profit, and a wealth of experience free of charge.”
“Experience is never free, and usually more costly than it’s worth,” replied Baghorn, only slightly reassured by the fresh coins in his pocket.
As we neared Anascrag, traffic increased substantially. Merchants mixed with adventurers and nobles, all beginning the gathering for the Festival of Spears. Although each individual noble retained his or her own guards, the blue and white uniforms of the imperial troops became commonplace. They patrolled the highway more regularly, keeping peace and offering comfort to the nobility.
One carriage in particular caught my eye. The wheels were narrow and taller than most, and the gold inlay covered nearly the entire vehicle. “Is that the emperor’s,” I asked Pascalli.
“No, lad. Narnal hasn’t attended the festival since he won the crown many winters past. That crest, the two-headed hawk is the family of Taradurk. Lord Taradurk is regent over the entire western empire.”
“This is the east,” I said.
“His family is wealthy, powerful, and well-connected to the emperor. They often visit Dynwater.”
The carriage curtain slipped aside briefly and I caught a glimpse of steel gray hair atop a solid frame. A moment of recognition seemed to pass between Pascalli and the man, but he pulled the curtain shut again and the carriage rambled past the caravan.
Though it was a large city by the standards of the empire, Anascrag carried the feel of a village still. The people decorated the open plazas and small houses with late blossoms and painted their homes and shops brightly with every color. Shopkeepers plied their wares with simple patience rather than yelling. Children played behind houses and in the streets, where wagons and people alike meandered with unhurried steadiness. Anascrag was a slow, self sufficient, unimposing city that captured my imagination and memory.
Iven brightened the moment the spires of Anascrag’s cathedral to Tylos became visible. Every moment his impatience grew, until I thought he would burst. We had not entered a large city since Havensod, and my experience there was unimpressive to say the least. I hoped there would be a clean inn with food I did not have to cook and a bed I could sleep in.
A large stone wall surrounds Anascrag, and that wall is visible for many kilometers in all directions across the vast wheat fields surrounding the city. Above the wall towers the great cathedral to Tylos. City guards patrol the walls regularly, and the four city gates, one for each direction of the compass, close at night. Admittance to the city is regulated but generally casual. The center of the empire is a mix of many cultures, and Anascrag’s cobblestone streets and alleys hold a variety of secrets from many places despite the unassuming look of it all. The city guards demanded our weapons until Pascalli produced letters of writ certifying his status as lord of Gratterskeep and my status as his knight and personal guard. At the time I thought Pascalli was merely passing off a lie so that we could remain armed. I later discovered, as will any historian, that Pascalli was indeed lord of Gratterskeep and that he had the authority to call me his knight and to allow me to bear arms for his protection. Being lord and knight respectively, brought us much improved status in the city.
Anascrag is divided into a number of districts, each bearing certain restrictions according to social status. As a farmer, for example I would have been relegated to some of the outer portions of the city while most of the middle and all of the inner portions were closed. Peasants and slaves could not pass out of the districts near the city walls without permission. In the middle of the city wealthier merchants and lesser nobles mingled, while the innermost portions were reserved for the wealthy nobles and the royal family who governed the city and surrounding lands. As a noble, however unimportant, Pascalli could be allowed access to some of the finer inns and services, and as his servant I was allowed many of the same privileges. Because we arrived late that first night, we decided to take up lodging at an inn closer to the outskirts, in one of the artisans’ districts, close to where Iven lived.
Iven departed the caravan the moment we passed the city gates. Baghorn frowned as he left, but said nothing. “We’ll help you unload your wares, if you wish,” offered Pascalli.
“Not at all,” replied Baghorn good-naturedly. “I’ve servants already for that.” He paid the guards and dismissed them with a smile. “It’s good to be home again. Good luck to you.”
I watched the caravan disappear, waiting for Pascalli to make up his mind. “We’ll spend a night at an inn I know. Iven needs time to settle in again.”
The smells of the place nearly overpowered me. Women, painted grotesquely, danced to idiotic tunes strummed out on over-zealous instruments. The western empire is famous for the class distinction, and all women of a certain profession are painted to disguise their true identities and class. Anascrag is a mixture of east and west, especially among the poor created mockeries of both sides.
Bracken stumbled into the place half-way through our meal. He smelled of liquor and swayed as he walked. The leer in his eye spoke of trouble, but I hoped he would seek it elsewhere. He planted himself less than a meter from my chair and growled. “I’m done with you whelp.” I can’t say what else he may have added after that. His boot connected with my jaw, and a cracking white light flashed across my eyes followed by darkness.
The familiar sound of Iven’s hammer already rang out a welcome to all who passed by early in the morning. I arrived somewhat later in the day, but my spirits rose immediately when I recognized the familiar tune.
“Have you eaten yet, Scratch?” he asked. His face broke into a larger grin than I had ever seen.
“No, sir,” I replied.
“Then go inside and get some breakfast from Whinnie. I expected the old man would send you my way, and judging from the way you look he’s been up to his old tricks again.” I gave him a shrug and headed into the house. “Mind you don’t take to long,” he called after me. “I’ve a bellows here that needs attention!”
Whinnie was as plump and kind a person I have ever met. Her hair, once blonde, was now streaked with gray. Her face, though kind and still happy was lined from worry about husband and children. Every moment her hands moved, constantly cleaning or mending or cooking, for the work never ended. Opposite I suppose in many ways to my mother who never appeared to do much, as a lady should, but who always kept a spotless house. My mother appeared weak, thin, frail, but stood in battle and faced down anyone foolish enough to cross her. Whinnie, larger and stouter than most women, had the strength of enduring rather than conquering.
She gladly took me in, and for a few short days became a second mother to me. “Scratch is not a proper name,” she said straight off. “I’m sure my thick skulled husband has long forgotten your true name, but I’ll not be calling a child something as unseemly as Scratch. What’s your true name, child?”
“Colter Halfspear,” I said. “I don’t much care for Scratch. It’s just what Iven called me when we first met, so everyone else does too, and I’m supposed to be traveling in secret.” I felt again during those days that I was again the child, again the boy who never left his village. I felt I could stay and enjoy and be loved again, and maybe, just maybe the curse wouldn’t follow me.
“You’re not traveling now, Colter,” she replied. Her voice was soft and gentle, more soothing to me than the balm she rubbed over my bruises. “We’ve no need for secrets here, but if you want to keep some for a rainy day, you go right ahead.” She gave me a wink and a smile. “Now I imagine that my ever-loving, demon driven, forge-master told you to join him at the bellows. There will be none of that as long as I am mistress of this hovel. You’ve journeyed thousands of kilometers only to find a wicked ambush at the hands of a conspiring wizard, whatever his intentions were. Today, and until the wizard decides to fetch you, you can rest and maybe even think of home.”
Copyright 2008 Kelly David Tolman
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