Mystic Firestorm 2 Read online

  “I’m sure that others survived, but we must be on our way. Time has run out. We are going back to Iclandia, young Prince. We need to discover what is happening.”

  “I think that Shadowstill is substantially better.”

  “No,” Fallqron sighed. “If this has happened to Gnomeholden, then Iclandia may be under siege. If that is the case, then no place is safe. I am beginning to wonder if this event has something to do with the Southlands, below Sloping Spikes.”

  “I do not know,” he whispered, “but we can send a messenger to the Craggy Mountains. Our cousins will be interested and may come to our aid. We have not seen the likes of Ogres for a hundred years. I believe they were in the Lost Lands and among the Black Pyramids of their ancient accursed brethren. Nevertheless, something wicked is brewing, some evil that we were unprepared for.”

  “It appears that some evil is attempting to take over our territory. We need to investigate this matter.”

  In the midst of shadows, a noise broke their attention as Gnome sentries fanned out in unison to flank their intruders, broadswords and crossbows were readied. The trackers skimmed the outposts of the hillside carefully concealing themselves from the exposed battlements of Gnomeholden. Ogres were seen patrolling the ramparts as the Gnome flags were burned. An enfolding act had occurred, and revenge would someday forge its way into the Ogres lives. For now, the creatures succeeded in their mission to innumerable for their small party to handle. The Gnome King knew he had an advantageous leverage, the underground tunnels. In a few weeks he decided, he would storm the infested castle and ferret them out, destroy them and their dark magic. After a few minutes, the sentries came up empty-handed, no counterattack or assassins followed, the company assembled with weapons half-drawn and resigned themselves to the quick journey ahead.

  As they trek through the snow-covered ground, Prince Alec remained tight-lipped and King Fallqron was closed-mouthed. The Gnomes were overwhelmed by their suspicions that buttressed a weary outcome. It simply came down to a matter of defeat by surprise. The vivacious attitudes kept them in check as the enormity of their exile haunted them. The Gnomes were without a homeland and were possibly marching into another dangerous situation. The mini army marched forward then came to a halt. Prince Alec checked Lady Saunder who continued to remain comatose. The group ate without fire and remained wrapped in their fur skins; anger began receding. If they were to survive, a trust would have to be built, one that relied on trust. The clouds separated showing a half-moon glowing like a small star. Before them, in the distance the great mountain of Iclandia loomed, tearing the sky asunder with a magnificent beauty.

  The majestic hillsides were swathed by crystal-white snow and cold, blistering temperatures. Prince Alec broke off a piece of frozen bread cognizant of the presence of someone in the distance.

  “Someone is following us,” Prince Alec cautiously stated.

  “I’ve been aware for some time,” the King responded while scratching his frosted beard. “Show yourself,” he called out.

  The Gnomes reacted as to strengthen their positions in order to protect him, but he waved them down. “Come now. We’re not going to harm you.”

  A half-froze lithe figure approached the group of men. The shape was covered in raggedy rags and then collapsed before them. Gnomes rushed over and encircled the fragile body as Prince Alec stood over it. It was a woman. A moment later, a ferocious voice chided them as a man made his way over.

  “Get away from her,” he sounded as he pushed passed the Gnomes. Gnomes sentries went to constrain him, but the King signaled them otherwise.

  “Arieal, wake up,” the exhausted man begged. “Please.”

  “Give her some water,” King Fallqron ordered as a soldier obeyed without hesitancy.

  “You!” Prince Alec’s voice exploded as the man peered up in a haphazard way.

  Suddenly the stranger lunged at Prince Alec with intentions of killing. Gnomes reacted immediately and secured the man who struggled as murmurs sounded then died away.

  “What is happening?” King Fallqron asked.

  “Quaid,” Prince Alec spat with contempt. “A traitor to a cause, to his country.”

  “I may be a traitor, but I don’t hold people’s families and use them against one another. I don’t imprison children and their wives Prince of Iclandia.”

  The King appeared taken back and waved them to release the man. “Fallqron,” Quaid managed with a nod. “What brings you out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Funny,” the King managed with diminishing tolerance, “that was the same exact question, I was going to ask you.”

  “It is too long of a story, but I will tell you this. Prince Alec had us exiled from Iclandia with his cursed Darkmages. My family is being held against their will. I fight for the cause of freedom and injustice,” he roughly bellowed.

  Arieal stirred and Gnome sentries prolonged her medication, a second later she rose. “What’s happening?”

  “It appears that we are their prisoners,” snapped Quaid.

  “You have not answered any of our questions,” Prince Alec reminded him.

  The Darkmages held us and threw her into the pit. I found her wondering after I nearly lost my own life in this forsaken land. I tell you this, Prince Alec. You are not the rightful heir to the throne. I am.” Prince Alec gave his statement precedence, the will to unmask the truth burned inside. “You are not the true bloodline to this throne, but an heir to Shannon.”

  “It can’t be,” Arieal mouthed, “but I see the resemblance in him.”

  “Shannon,” Alec laughed as he self-consciously examined his own motives. “I’ve never heard of this place.”

  “You look exactly like Payne Axel,” Arieal said as King Fallqron listened to the remarkable argument in fascination.

  “Who is this Payne Axel or Prince Grandur that you keep harassing me about? Where is he?”

  “He was with Noleann,” Arieal completed.

  Silence followed as Quaid examined the Prince’s expressionless face, not one word was uttered, he wordlessly waved the others to get ready to move. The Prince preferred that this conversation would utterly cease, but the queries refused to dissolve.

  Quaid stepped before him in a radiant manner, “I don’t wish to overthrow your right to this Kingdom. There is a girl named Noleann and she’s trapped in Iclandia, a prisoner of the Darkmages. She is there along with my wife and two children.”

  “What!” King Fallqron intervened. “I don’t like the sound of any of this. The urgency of this manner will have to stand aside,” he griped with an unsettling demeanor. “At this time, I’d like to inquire about those damned devil things and the Ogres that have conquered and murdered my people.”

  “I’m at a loss just as you are. We followed them and watched them enter through a cliffside of the north base,” his face shot a withdrawn crease. “If the Ogres have destroyed your homeland then they may be moving to an assault on Iclandia as well as the Nomad Kingdom,” he surmised as Arieal drank some more of the medicine.

  “We need to make a decision.” Arieal added, wheeling their misgivings concerning the foreigner.

  “She is correct,” King Fallqron explained, insistent on venturing forward to the next territory. “I suggest, we get to Iclandia and find out what’s happening.”

  “Yes,” Quaid agreed, “and Prince Alec and Lady Saunder will be able to show us the secret passageway they escaped from.”

  The words bit as Lady Saunder stirred in her sled. Alec knelt gently over her while she smiled bearing the illness of her wounds. “Alec, we must band together to assist the overthrow of the Darkmages and have the rightful King place on Iclandia.”

  “Do not worry yourself about these matters,” he tucked the blankets in caressing her red cheeks with his warm hand.

  “Alec, Quaid is right,” she strained.

  “About what?” he gently asked her.

  “He is the true heir to the Kingdom of Iclandia.”
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br />   Complete silence stole away as Prince Alec turned to see the disappointed face of Quaid. The Mountaineer turned and walked away.

  The night passed into a dawning twilight with shooting stars and clear skies. The modest company drudged in the frigid weather of Iclandia as their durability wore thin. Prince Alec and Quaid had not spoken since the revelation of Lady Saunder. Everyone needed to collect their thoughts concerning the entire matter of Iclandia and the downfall of Gnomeholden. The Gnomes maneuvered about, checking for traps and ambushes, a usual strategy for self-preservation and survival. Arieal strode beside King Fallqron who remained silent, lost in his own refuge, with little expression or emotion. The windswept Flatlands were an awesome spectacle as they inched nearer to the towering mountain, fervently with one cause, the banishment of the Darkmages and their black magic. The entire matter appeared jumbled at best with many unanswerable questions that stimulated and forged a catalyst to fan out the truth. Whatever the answer, whoever the King, an unseating of power would result. After a break, Quaid broke the silence and faced Prince Alec.

  “I don’t want your throne. I just want our people to be free. I want them to be able to trade. I want my family back. I’d give up everything for that.”

  “I didn’t imprison them. You were betrayed from within,” Prince Alec added. “I’ve been exiled just as you. The Darkmage Javern made it so. We came to seek assistance and walked into some nightmare. Now, I find that my whole life is not what I thought it was. How can I rule?”

  “You must step-down,” the words stung.

  “No, I will not. I will continue my rule.”

  “Shadown, Valendor and Ariq will continue their fight. They will not let you sit on the throne to act like a puppet. A true King would never have allowed this to occur.”

  “A true King,” Fallqron blasted, “a true King cares for his people, not his own hide. A true King rights the wrongs of others, defends the Kingdom against those who would destroy him. A true King aids those who are also his enemy!”

  “My argument is not with you Fallqron.”

  “Then fight those who stand against us. Make a pact,” he grabbed both of their wrists pushing their hands together. “Make it so we can find justice, then you decide what happens.”

  Quaid and Prince Alec examined one another, their faces full of distrust and animosity. Quaid backed down for a moment, nodding his head in respect as Prince Alec shook his hand and raised it in the air. The Gnome sentries possessively circled the two and raised their broadswords into the night sky. In a moment the circle broke up as Quaid meandered over to a rock.

  “We are here. This passageway leads us all the way up to Iclandia.”

  The passageway opened and the company sworn to uphold justice, entered in hidden secrecy.

  TEN

  The Snap exploded with the sight of fighting between Dwarves and Gnomes. The two races mingled with sword, mace, ax and cavalry. Screams and shouts shook the area as the Dwarves gave a retreat, they were losing the battle. Smoke filled the air as bodies lay strewn about and men grabbed the injured taking them to safety. Tents flagged the sides as well as the base of the Snap while morning hammered in. Exhaustion implacably deterred both armies. Small campfires blazed as spies and assassins took to the hunt to find out the other encampments secrets. The Dwarves had no intention on losing the next battle. The great undertaking of was sedulous as well as overwhelming to both sides. Fighting ensued in the hills of Sleigh Mish Mountains and just north of the bulky Green Mountains where a river flooded and dissected southeast into The Drop and down into Sky Dark. Gnome and Dwarf locked into battle to gain the upper hand and secure the area. The cavalry patrolled the Crossroads from the south blocking all entrance northward into the Lost Lands. To the west, the Dragon Spine was easily maneuvered in order to infiltrate the areas and seize encampments. The Snap for some reason had become the focal point of the battle, its entranceway small, but secure into the Midlands. King Lurgan of the Sleigh Mish Mountains led his Freedom Fighters to block off the Gnomes of Forevergreen. The Dwarven King and his son worked furiously to remain open, Gnomes from the Craggy Mountains assisted. News had spread of the death of the Gnome King by illness that left them in a disarray. The Gnome Chieftains who planned out the battle could not make up their minds what they wanted to do

  Prince Lurgan sent his patrol of Freedom Fighters to etch out the borders and keep Sleigh Mish from being invaded, already from the fights, fires burned blanketing a opaque darkness. Even though the troops had been silenced, there was an eerie premonition of doom swirling around. The Dwarves and Gnomes rested in exhaustion wondering whatever had started this borderline skirmish and what would stop it. The Gnomes milled in disarray, moving and tracking to their chieftains tent, their King had passed away and dissension among the commanders and lack of leadership badly damaged their morale. The Chieftains were calling an emergency council into session to vote on the possibility of a new king. Out of the five, three were considered to be the supreme strategists of Craggy Mountains. The Green Mountain Gnomes had their own chieftains who had joined in the battle but were growing weary at the constant disarray. For some unknown reason, the commanders and sentries were disorganized in the formation of their own cavalries and which armies were patrolling specific borders. Matters did not improve when one of Chieftain Kraken, ordered Chieftain Wrent's men to fortify his position. The battle appeared to be a competition among them instead of teamwork, chaos outlay this skirmish. The three other Chieftains, Denter, Ballic and Granite were mistrustful of one another’s motives for power and control. A fortified tent stood firmly erected as a command post as the Gnome Chieftains circled the table in mistrust, arguing with one another considering the possibility of a strike while the Dwarves rested.

  King Omagh, and his men are northeast between the Snap and the outlying pass. “If we send a patrol here, we can cut them off.” Kraken waved his arm, armor flashing in the dim lanterns.

  “No good, you pompous fool,” Ballic laughed, “then they'll fortify their positions from the Green Mountains and overrun our men.”

  “We are too weak in all of our positions.” Wrent added.

  “It's this infernal bickering amongst ourselves that will destroy the Gnome people and all we have worked for. Two lousy areas and we cannot even push those confounded Dwarves back,” Denter said boisterously.

  “I suggest we hold off, reassemble, redeploy and out-flank them. I suggest that we attempt to find out what their plans are,” Granite chided harshly.

  Kraken's roughened face sneered animosity toward his comrades. “Sure, you fortify your own position and leave the rest of us buried alive.”

  Wrent waved his arm and took his robes off. “This will not work; we need to make decisions together. The Dwarves do not outnumber us, but their strategy is supreme. Prince Lurgan and his Freedom Fighters move swiftly to cut off our men.”

  Ballic smiled. “The lad is a genius in his own right. Omagh trained him well. What in the blazes started this fiasco? Why are we in a war with them?”

  “You forget,” Denter viciously spat, “that they ambushed a group of our men and killed them, set fire to our northern village, killed men, women and children. I told you that Dwarves cannot be trusted.”

  “I disagree,” Ballic exploded.

  Within a second the five commanders began quarreling all at once. Their noises went out from the tents and echoed along the morning sun’s rays of the Snap.

  Just south of their position, Flicker, Tullamore and the two children, Patch and Aaron, crested the bridge of the hill to see the enormous sea of Gnomes that encamped in the area. Patrols skirted along the fringes shouting orders, giving commands and arousing the dishearten troops. Campfires burned along the base as tents with the Gnome insignia flew in the air.

  “It's a battlefield,” Flicker whispered.

  “I don't believe this,” Tullamore added.

  The two children appeared exhausted and disheveled as they slumped against a
tree. In the far distance, Dwarven tents were amassed just north of their position. The scouts moved softly among the hills hidden by rocks and the harsh landscape of the Snap. Tullamore deduced from their current situation that they were taking a break, redeploying and repositioning their movements for another assault. From the milling of both camps, no one could tell who was winning.

  “We need to make a safe passage through this mess.”

  “What are we supposed to do now?” Flicker asked as he examined the two children.

  It was not the kind of question that Tullamore felt like dealing with. He wondered if Allenor had survived with Gweyn. He wondered what would befall the children and how this would affect their lives. The Lumberjack knew that they would become his sole responsibility if their mother was killed.

  “What was that Mystic thinking!” he snapped.

  “I don't think he suspected a borderline skirmish.” Flicker finished.

  Tullamore felt the boy to be correct in surmise, now the situation had to be sized up. A few decisions had to be made. If Allenor had survived, he would come to the Snap as promised. Within the mass of men, the Mystic would have to locate them and safely bring them through the encampment without being harmed. Then other immediate problems existed that he did not wish to contemplate about, the Crimson Seekers. The dark creatures power appeared utterly unstoppable then it dawned on the man.

  “We have to get word to the Freedom Fighters,” Tullamore explained as he covered the exhausted children with a blanket.

  “We have to speak with the Dwarves?” Flicker asked quizzically, his voice stirring with bits of confusion.

  “Don't you see. The Dwarves and Gnomes are fighting amongst themselves. The Seekers can come and just wipe them both out. If they have no knowledge of the incidents, then it leaves the Eastland in a bad position.”

  “But why the Dwarves?” Flicker asked.

  “The Freedom Fighters could breach the Gnome encampment without being seen if they genuinely wanted to. They could explain the situation and call a truce. At least it would buy enough time to make good decisions concerning this matter. We could ask for passage through, but I don't think the parties will allow it. The Gnomes and Dwarves would just detain us.”