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fableweaver · 4 years ago

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Arc of the Dragon Keeper

Iounn stood wearily alone in the command tend bent over the map that displayed their armies. It was now into the month of Sons, the height of summer passing to the hot dusty days just before autumn. They had wiped out five more tribes of the Orcs in two separate battles that had lasted weeks each and were still faced with fourteen other tribes. Three held siege at Dun Glas, Eight roamed individually over the moors, two held siege in Dun Eald, and one was headed towards Nyrgard. Sten had taken a force to chase the one headed to Nyrgard, but it had split many of their forces that they needed to fight the other tribes.

The ones in siege were not a problem, they attacked little and seemed content to sit on the cities and wait. Little did they know they would have to wait at least a year to starve out the cities. Having the warning they did the cities had time to build up fortifications, giving the Orcs the hard task of the siege. For now, the generals and Kings were fine letting the Orcs hold the cities in siege, it kept those tribes from moving, and only a few hundred (mostly women) were needed to hold the city. If need arose, they could send messages by crow to get aid.

The larger problem was the eight roaming bands of Orcs. They never united and pillaged the countryside. While settlements were scattered all over the moors meant that the Orcs had to travel far just to attack a single farm, it also meant defending those farms was impossible. The only benefit seemed that while the Orc’s attacked one farm they might miss another in a valley over just because the farms were so scattered.

With autumn approaching, and the need to harvest fields for the winter, the strain of chasing down the armies of Orcs was becoming apparent. They just didn’t have the manpower; they were always outnumbered. Even with the Griffins hunting down the Orcs from the sky and dropping the Dwarvish munitions, the toll of battle was dwindling the Duanish and Nyrgard armies. Iounn stood over the map wracking her brain for a way to draw the Orcs together and failing. She knew too that even if they were to draw the Orcs together, they would never be able to defeat such an army.

“You’ll drive yourself mad,” Hors said mildly startling her. Iounn turned to see the dragon child sitting on the corner of the table, having come in silently.

“It all just seems so hopeless,” Iounn said tiredly. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Hors answered. “But we are doing all we can.”

“It isn’t enough,” Iounn answered. “We need to get the Orcs all in one place, but if we do that, they’ll wipe us out.”

“What news from the other Kingdoms?” Hors asked.

“Bad,” Iounn answered. “Hyria and the Mark have moved east to aid in the war against the Lirian Orc army. Sten has sent a messenger to King Lonna but he has little hope of that messenger arriving in time. Here in this corner of the world their troubles go unnoticed until they strike further south. It is looking like we are on our own unless there are more of the Phay to aid us?”

“The Merrow, Dwarves, Griffins, Selkie, and Giants were the only ones of the Phay to remain in Miread after the march,” Hors answered. “The Selkie cannot venture far from the sea, too much of their essence is tied up in it. It seems the Orcs do not venture close to the sea except the time we drove them too it.”

Two of the tribes they had destroyed had been driven to the coast only to be destroyed by the Selkie army that had waited there. Sadly, that had been the only aid they could give, and many of the Selkie had died since they lacked armor and weapons. Even if they were to repeat the process Iounn doubted the Selkie could help again given thousands had died in that battle.

“That leaves the giants then,” Iounn said heavily. “We need to wake them.”

“We need someone powerful in the Elder Magic to sound the horn,” Hors answered.

“Is the King of the Dwarves not strong enough?” Iounn asked. Hors swished his tail seeming to think.

“I don’t know,” Hors answered at last. “Even if she were, we would have to travel all over the northern mountains to wake each Giant.”

“And gather all the Orcs in one place,” Iounn said wearily.

“That I have idea how to do,” Hors said. “But let us ask Runi, maybe she can help us figure out how to wake the giants since her people live in those mountains.”

Iounn nodded and Hors leapt up onto her shoulder. Iounn went to her tent first to find the horn. As she left her tent, she almost ran into Kree. Iounn stopped, she was no longer afraid of the feelings she had with Kree, she had accepted to be friends with her and found it an easy and good relationship.

“Where are you off to?” Kree asked with a cat like grin.

“To the dwarves,” Iounn said holding up the horn and explaining their plan.

“I’ll come along too,” Kree said seriously. “Maybe I can help.”

Iounn nodded, knowing she could not refuse Kree where she wanted to go. They went through camp, the tents a mix of the two armies of the dwarves and men. Runi’s tent was much like the King’s made to look like any other large tent of the army. Guards stood nearby so not to draw attention but still close enough should anything happen. They had not had any assassins from the Orcs, but it was best to stay cautious.

Entering Iounn found Runi with her captain Hákon, who seemed he had been in the middle of a lesson over tactics. They stopped and turned, Runi bowing her head to Iounn.

“Lady Iounn,” Runi said pleased.

“Runi you are king, do not bow to me a Baroness,” Iounn said and then blushed. “In all respects Majesty,” she added embarrassed at having lectured a king; it was hard for her to remember given Runi seemed so young and like her daughters. Runi blushed as well and nodded, and Hákon cleared his throat.

“What brings you here Lady Iounn?”

“A decision that should have been made a long time ago,” Iounn said relieved to move past the moment of embarrassment. “We need to gather the Orc armies and slaughter them. The only way to do that is to wake the Giants.”

“Impossible,” Hákon said. “We have lived with the slumbering Giants since the Phay marched and have tried to wake them many times. I do not think even the March will wake them.”

“We woke one,” Iounn said holding the horn aloft. “A mage crafted this with High Magic and Elder Magic. The dwarf Darin played it and woke a giant. We believe that if someone of greater power played it, they could wake the Giants.”

Hákon frowned but Runi answered.

“I have power,” Runi said.

“Untrained,” Hákon growled. “And still new.”

“The best kind,” Hors said. “In the Elder Magic the youth have the greatest power ironically. The power of chance and unbridled energy.”

“I can do this Hákon,” Runi said before her captain could object more. “And I will, understand?”

“Yes, my King,” Hákon said as he sighed and bowed.

“You do well as my captain protecting me Hákon,” Runi said warmly and Hákon grumbled as he blushed. “So how will we wake the Giants?”

“That is the trouble,” Hors said as he leaped onto the table strewn with maps and papers. “To wake the Giants, we’d have to go into the mountains, and wake them one by one.”

“That would take years,” Hákon said.

“What about through the aether?” Kree asked, Iounn unsurprised she could speak the Phay language. “If we ring the horn through the aether would that not wake the Giants?”

“No, the song already rings through the aether,” Hors answered. “It has not woken them. I believe they are too tied to Miread for that to work.”

“Then through the earth,” Runi said and Hors looked at her with his head tipped to the side. “We have tunnels through the mountains leading many places, with my power I can ring the call through the earth to the giants.”

“Were those tunnels not sealed so the Orcs could not access the cities?” Iounn asked.

“They were sealed around the cities so the Orcs could not enter,” Runi answered. “The rest are untouched, mostly abandoned form our mining and routes. They go everywhere through the mountains and touch many giants.”

“It seems the best option,” Hors said. “We are close to the mountains right now; are we close to a tunnel?”

“About five days,” Hákon answered.

“Then we should set out,” Hors said. “It could take the Giants sometime to get to us.”

“Maybe Liath can guide them when they wake,” Iounn said and Runi frowned.

“I do not think he went into the mountains for that,” Runi said. “He did not say so, but I believe he went seeking Goloria.”

“Why did you not mention that?” Hors asked.

“I wasn’t sure,” Runi answered. “And we had still been communicating by the Griffins then.”

“What is Goloria?” Iounn asked.

“A weapon,” Runi answered. “It is a giant’s sword of stone it lays in the mountains forgotten since none can wield it but the Giants.”

“And?” Iounn asked sensing there was more.

“And that is the only weapon the Giants have,” Hors answered. “They have never made weapons; they fight with their fists and feet. None is needed given their size. Goloria is a stone sword the Giants found in the ages of the Phay. It was a weapon wielded by a deity of the lines, lost in battle against another long ago. It fell to Miread from the aether, and the Giants found it.”

“Let me guess then, the one that wields it is the king of the Giants then?” Iounn said.

“No,” Hors said as he grinned. “The Giants never knew it was a weapon, they fight with their fists after all.”

“If they don’t think it’s a weapon why is Liath seeking it?” Iounn asked.

“They think it is a god,” Hors answered. “I believe he is seeking it thinking it would wake the Giants.”

Iounn tried not to laugh but Hors looked like he was ready to.

“Well that is good all the same if he finds it right?” Iounn said. “He can come back with it and we can tell him it is a weapon.”

“If Liath could lift it,” Runi said. “Goloria can only be lifted by the eldest of Giants, those the size of a mountain. And they can barely lift it at all. It has never moved from the crater that it made when it first fell to Miread.”

Iounn could not imagine the size of the sword let alone of a creature that could move and was larger than a mountain.

“Well then he’ll come once we ring the horn,” Iounn said tiredly.

“Only Goloria has power,” Hors said. “If Liath has gone to pray to the sword, I fear he might wake it.”

“And if he does?” Iounn asked, tired of the vague words Hors was giving.

“Then it might return to its master,” Hors said. “A deity that should have died in a battle long ago, but I suppose is rightly named. He is Koschei, He Eternal, master of the Everlands. He was a deity of greed and stole whatever he could to fill the Everlands with beauty and wonder. Until he stole the eye of another deity, La-Lu Aunidaras, She Makes the Winds and Waters, a deity of a world of water. When Koschei stole her eye, the sun that warmed the world she presided over, it froze, and the world died into a world of ice.

“Blinded La-Lu sought Koschei out and they battled, destroying several worlds and magical places, until La-Lu won knocking Koschei’s sword to Miread. She sealed him away in the dead places their battle had made, since she could not kill him. If he were to gain his sword again, he might break free of the seals that bind him.”

“And?” Iounn said. “Destroy all of Miread?”

“More likely go to seek revenge on La-Lu,” Hors said. “To do that he would probably kill her lover the Sandman. If that were to happen the lines may become too treacherous for the Phay to march, the death of a deity is no small thing.”

“What happened to La-Lu?” Kree asked and Hors shrugged.

“She died,” Hors answered, “their battle took its toll on her. The Sandman slumbers mostly now in mourning, though he would hardly admit it.

“Then why seek revenge on a dead deity?” Kree asked.

“Because it is the only revenge he could get,” Hors answered. “And he is that petty.”

“This was a wonderful story Hors but is his sword really likely to free Koschei?” Iounn asked.

“Yes, but I don’t really see how we could stop Liath if he has gone to Goloria,” Hors said. “Unless we ring the horn in time.”

“There is little time to waste regardless,” Runi said. “We should go now and see if we can wake the giants.”

“If we do how are we going to gather the Orcs in one place?” Kree asked.

“I’ll take care of that,” Hors answered and Iounn knew the secretive tone well.

“How?” Iounn asked hardly but Hors did not meet her eyes. “Hors, you will tell me what you are planning right now.”

“Just like a mother,” Hors said wryly. “Very well, I plan on baiting the Crippled One. He’ll gather the armies for us. It seems to be the only force to unite the Orc armies it seems.”

Iounn frowned, wanting to argue, knowing it would be dangerous, fearing Hors would come to his end, but could not because she knew this would be the only option.

“Very well but I will go with you in spirit to face the Crippled One,” Iounn said and it was Hors’ turn to chew on her words.

“Just like a mother,” Hors said as he sighed. “Very well, I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No,” Iounn said. “Now let’s get going while we still have the light to travel by.”

They left the tent and went seeking horses and supplies. Iounn sent a message to Dylan where they were going, and he sent two knights to accompany them. Runi also called on five of her own warriors to accompany them.

With the horses saddled and ready they left camp with the afternoon sun above. Summer was a time when wars often happened for the lands of men, but the Orcs seemed ill suited to the long days of the summer. They only attacked or fought at night and in the northern moors these were short. A cloud hovered over many of the Orc armies, a casting by the Crippled One according to Hors. It made finding them easy at times, but the clouds only seemed to linger over the gatherings of several tribes. Singular armies did not have the dark clouds, making them harder to track over the moors. These smaller ones were less likely to be traveling or attacking during the day, but they traveled far and fast at night, attacking small farms and killing everything.

They rode over the summer moors, drinking in the wild beauty of the wild moors in the height of summer. Gorse bloomed with heather, the air thick with wild wind and the smell of drying grass. Storms and rain were less frequent, and the sky went on for ages in a un-broken blue of a robin’s egg.

They rode following Runi and Hákon as they rode over hills and through valleys, following a dirt path used by shepherds. It was slow, the path twisting with the land rather than cutting through it, and when night fell, they took their rest in a ravine. Iounn was glad to have the Daunish knights and Dwarven warriors to guard them, the Orcs roamed far in the night. They slept and the morning dawned without sign of any attack. They ate and broke camp, riding out once more.

It took them five days of hard riding to reach the foothills and the entrance to the underground tunnel. It appeared as little more than an average cave, the entrance a dark hole in the lee of several tumbled over boulders covered in gorse bushes. A carne lay next to the entrance, and what appeared to be an old burnt out candle.

“What is this?” Iounn asked but Runi shrugged she asked the Daunish in the trade tongue.

“An old offerin most like,” one of the Daunish said looking at the little shrine. “Ta the spirits o the caves, the old ways still be strong in these boarder lands.”

“The Daunish made offering to the Dwarves?” Iounn asked surprised.

“Nawt,” the guard laughed. “It be an offerin ta the gnomes, the earth spirits.”

Iounn nodded though she doubted such spirits cared or even existed. Though she did have a dragon child riding on her shoulder so Iounn supposed she should put more faith in such things. It was hard to believe something exited if you couldn’t see or touch it.

“This is the route you used to get here?” Iounn asked.

“No, we had to close that one after us,” Hákon said. “This one is an old raiding tunnel.”

“How did you know it was here?” Iounn asked.

“We studied the maps of the old raiding tunnels before we came,” Runi answered.

“Could the Orcs be using these tunnels to escape from us?” Iounn asked, worried there could be a band of Orcs hiding in the tunnel.

“I doubt it,” Hákon answered. “The Orcs avoid our tunnels unless trying to attack us, they know the dangers of the tunnels since it is our home ground. Also, these tunnels are raiding tunnels, they were made for only dwarves to use. To make sure the Daunish never followed us or attacked through the tunnels they were made short and narrow, only tall enough for a dwarf or sheep to pass through easily. We also made them into a maze that only the dwarves knew how to navigate.”

Iounn nodded though she doubted that would have deterred the Orcs. She followed Runi and Hákon into the cave, only to nearly hit her head on the rocks. She crouched down but found even so she would have to crawl on her hands and knees of she wanted to go through the tunnel. She imagined then it would take some time just to get an army through such a small narrow opening that it would never be worth the effort.

“You can stay behind Lady Iounn,” Runi said, the only one able to stand in the tunnel. Even Hákon had to duck a little.

“No, I want to see this,” Iounn insisted. “But the two Daunish knights should stay behind.”

The men agreed, only the Dwarvish knights following them in. They made slow progress as Iounn struggled through the narrow tunnel. Runi now carried a light that came from a stone she carried, an invention of the Dwarves. It seemed like ages as Iounn crawled through the tunnel, getting stuck occasionally and having to have one of the dwarves behind her give her a shove. They stopped to rest and then kept moving, Iounn losing track of time without the sun to aid her. She wondered how these people could live underground their whole lives, the dwarves seem perfectly comfortable in the narrow tunnel.

At last they reached a cavern, Iounn able to stand and look around. It was a natural tunnel, the earth and rocks a tumble around them with a small pool of water in the middle of the cavern. It was no bigger than a large cabin room yet seemed smaller to Iounn’s whose head just barely missed the uneven ceiling of the cave.

“Here should be good,” Runi said looking around before turning to Iounn. “May I have the horn?”

Iounn nodded, still winded and tired from her journey, and handed over the horn. Runi took the horn and turned to the earth wall. Planting her feet, she put the horn to her lips. She blew out, a single melodious note issuing and then changing. She played the song Iounn had heard her late husband sing, the song Darin played to wake the giants. Only this time it was far more recognizable than Darin’s, and the sound carried deeper into Iounn’s chest. Runi played far longer than it seemed possible to hold breath, stopping at the last note.

She lowered the horn, Iounn expecting a rumble of earth or an earth tremor, but nothing happened.

“Did it work?” she asked softly, afraid to break the silence.

“Yes,” Runi said. “How well remains to be seen. Now we can only wait.”

“How long?” Iounn asked.

“Hard to say,” Runi answered. “But we’ve done all we can now.”

“Then we should move along to the next part and bait the Crippled One,” Hors said.

“Surely we should wait for the Giants to arrive,” Iounn said horrified. “If we gather all the Orcs without the Giants to aid us, we will be wiped out.”

“I do not believe we have the time to wait for the Giants to arrive,” Hors said. “Time moves strangely in the lines, I do not know how long it will take the Crippled One to communicate to the Orcs, let alone how long it will take them to gather. The March is approaching.”

“Can we not just let it pass then,” Iounn said. “Is it so dire that the Orcs be defeated before the Phay arrive?”

“I’m not sure Miread could take the strain,” Hors said. “The Crippled One brought these creatures here from another world, they are like the Phay in that they did not come from Miread. The Phay have tied themselves to Miread, being reborn here has strengthened ourselves to this world. So have the Orcs, by wounding the world as they do, they are like a tick on the back of Miread. But Miread has always had a delicate balance with the aether, parts of it touch into the lines, the dreaming places of the Phay and other natural occurrences in Miread.

“I’m not so sure Miread could remain in balance with the aether with two races from the lines existing in it. It might tip the scales, much like how Kur and the Serpent King could not exist in this world together, so they battled. We might be able to exist for a time, but if one of us wishes to stay her, the other has to go. I fear that battle will be harder and harder to win over time.”

“And could the lands of men hold a war that long?” Runi asked.

Iounn sighed knowing they were right, the faster you could end a war the better. But such a gamble seemed reckless to her, if the Giant’s didn’t show up, they would fail.

“I also do not think my plan of baiting the Crippled One will work if the Phay March,” Hors said. “After the Phay march either the Crippled One will be defeated or he will have devoured the Phay. After that I doubt he will care about my bait if he’s consumed the Phay. And if we defeat him there will be no force to gather the Orcs. Then there will be no point in calling the Giants, or the aid of the Phay. It will be down to hunting each clan into eradication.”

“Then maybe we should wait at least some time,” Iounn said. “How close are the Phay to marching?”

“The last ring of the song is not for several more months at least,” Hors answered. “But that all depends on Eileen, she could find the song before then.”

“Will there be warning?” Iounn asked.

“I may sense it before it happens,” Runi said. “But not by much time.”

“We need someone with the sight for that,” Hors said.

“You mean to see into the future?” Iounn asked and Hors nodded.

“Runi, do any of the Dwarves have the sight?” Hors asked.

“Not for centuries,” Runi answered. “It is not common among the Dwarves.”

“The Griffins then?” Iounn asked and Runi covered her mouth, smothering a laugh.

“The Griffins have never been adept in the Elder Magic,” Hors answered dryly. “Few Griffins can even use it, those powerful in the Elder Magic are a very rare thing for them.”

“Who is the sight common with then?” Iounn asked.

“The Banshee mostly,” Hors answered. “And the Trolls have their fair share of those with the sight. Though maybe a witch of the moors who has the Elder Magic may have the sight, it would be weak in comparison to a Banshee or Troll; but it might be enough.”

“Then we should go,” Iounn said and they all nodded. They started to make their way back through the tunnel, Iounn once again forced to proceed along on her knees. It seemed longer than before, the walls tighter and the earth darker. Once they were out of the cave Iounn had to stop to rest, putting her head between her knees and taking deep breaths until she felt better. Once she had some water and food and everyone else was rested, they set out again back for camp.

Four days after they left the caves, the morning was heavy with a mist from the moors. Iounn worried about ambush, especially as they were wending their way through the hills, the shepherd’s path they traveled unclear ahead. So, they rode cautiously, until after a bend in the path they came on a crossroads of sorts. It was a little dyke between three hills, the path branching off in three directions, a twisted old apple tree hunched over the path.

Under the tree stood a figure, hooded and cloaked but small and hunched. They rode over cautiously, but it did not seem like an Orc ambush given the figure seemed human. They reached the figure, seeing then it was an old Daunish woman, cloaked and hooded against the heavy mist.

“Hail old one,” one of the Daunish guards said as they drew near. “Are ye well? Do ye need aid reaching yer destination?”

“I have reached it,” she answered. “I just hope I am not late, or early?”

Iounn felt Horse emerge from her hair, holding out her arm so he could perch and be seen.

“You are right on time,” Hors said. “You have the sight.”

“As it is,” the old woman answered. “I be Grandmother Meredydd.”

Hors introduced their party his tail twitching.

“We should rest here, it is safe,” Hors said. They dismounted and took out their trail rations everyone sitting under the apple tree.

“So, your sight told you to meet us here?” Iounn asked.

“I saw us meeting,” Meredydd answered. “The when were tricky bit, I was almost early.”

“So, then you came to tell us the Giants will come,” Iounn said.

“They will, but I cannot tell when,” Meredydd answered. “I’ve seen a great battle o the dark creatures with the Griffin and men, Giants looming over all as they all battle. The battle lasts all through the day and inta the night. The stars be veiled behind clouds n smoke er else I could tell when the battle will be baint?”

“But you can tell us where,” Hors said and Meredydd nodded.

“Ta the south, in a place called Troll’s Pasture,” Meredydd answered. “An old home o the Trolls sos legend goes. Unce they had feasted there, dreamed n drank, many ages ago.”

“You can see it,” Hors said amazed.

“My dreams have been long of late,” Meredydd answered.

“I am sorry,” Hors said solemnly.

“Why?” Iounn asked, wondering why he would be sad over having long dreams.

“For one with the sight the longer, and further back their dreams reach, the closer they be ta death,” Meredydd answered. “This be the last time I will play a role in all this, at least in this life. I met ye here partly because ye were on my way.”

“Ye be on yer last journey,” one of the Daunish guards said.

“Last journey?” Iounn asked.

“In the old days fer the old ways the old when close ta death would walk inta the moors,” Meredydd answered. “I am old n the old ways be mine. I will walk inta the moors n lay down til I baint walk no more. The earth will claim me, n my spirit will walk the lines ta Tir Aesclinn.”

“We thank you then for your aid,” Hors said. “And may you walk in peace under the trees.”

“N ye elder,” Meredydd said and she stood. “I will be along then.”

“Wait,” Iounn said. “You can see into the future; do we win the battle? Do the Phay march? What will become of the Kingdoms?”

“So many questions lass,” Meredydd said with a sad smile. “Sadly, I’ve seen all, both failure n success, n all that be betwixt. What comes will be yer task, n ye face it all the same.”

Iounn frowned knowing a mother’s answer when she heard one.

“We thank you for your wisdom,” Hors said. “Go now in peace.”

“Thank ye,” Meredydd said. “Good-bye.”

She said the last like she were, just going for a stroll and would return shortly. She walked off into the mists, disappearing into the hills like a shadow.

“We could have learned so much more from her,” Iounn said bitterly.

“No, she told us what we needed,” Hors said. “Any more would only make the path ahead less clear not more. And she has little time left.”

“It seems barbaric, dying alone,” Iounn muttered.

“Some souls seek it,” Hors answered. “For peace and the clarity that comes from within. Who are we to deny a person what that without own beliefs or desires?”

Chastised but unwilling to admit it, Iounn went to her horse so they could set out again. They arrived back at the camp the next day, finding it unchanged from when they left. Finding Dylan in his tent they relayed the events and the coming of the Giants.

“Troll’s Pasture is not a place I’d expect a battle,” Dylan said. “At least one of our choice. Legend was it was a place the Trolls once gathered, a rare thing as legend says.”

“The Trolls are solitary,” Hors confirmed. “They rarely gather, only for feasts and weddings.”

“Well that place was said to be theirs,” Dylan said. “And matches them. It is an ancient bog, one that has not changed ever. It is mostly mud and a few twisted trees, a home to snakes and rats.”

“I expect the Trolls loved that,” Hors said. “All the same it is a gathering of the lines, a perfect place for me to lay the snare that the Crippled One will throw his armies into.”

“We should choose one that is a good place for us to battle,” Dylan said. “An open pasture or valley.”

“What is good for us is good for our enemy,” Hors said. “And we need it to not seem like a trap. You will ride a small army into Troll’s Pasture, seeming to be traveling through it, then the Orcs will think they have the advantage. Then the Griffins and Giants will attack.”

“No one travels through Troll’s Pasture,” Dylan argued.

“Except an army hunting an elusive enemy,” Hors answered but Dylan shook his head.

“Even with the Giants and Griffins the men on the ground will be slaughtered,” Dylan said. “I won’t agree to this.”

“Then ask only the volunteers willing to die,” Iounn answered.

“I have already asked that of them thousands of times,” Dylan said loudly. “I will not lead my people to slaughter, I will not be that King.”

Silence lasted for several moments until Runi spoke.

“My people have been at war with these creatures since the Phay marched thousands of years ago,” Runi said. “Every dwarf has been born with the knowledge they may die in battle.”

“And ours have only just faced this,” Dylan said. “Yes, we have faced war before, less than a generation ago we faced it. But not all of us, some have been shepherds in the hills, just as their fathers had been and their fathers, the people facing this horror now have never know death like this. And they face it fighting and die when they deserve to live, my people deserve to live.”

“And I am not denying that,” Runi said kindly. “I am saying that you are right, we will not ask this of you. We dwarves will be the force on the ground that will lure the Orcs into the trap.”

“Runi…” Iounn said kindly but Runi faced her with hard eyes.

“As I said, we have fought them for thousands of years and will fight them again. We are the ones better suited to fighting them grounded and in one position. The Daunish and Nyrgard forces can come in to box the Orcs in on their horses and with their archers. Then the Griffins can rain munitions and the Giants aid in what way they can.”

“This is no on solid ground,” Dylan said. “The bog is muddy and full of water.”

“Earth is earth,” Runi said. “We’ll make due.”

“Very well,” Dylan said.

Iounn wanted to argue but Hors dug his claws into her shoulder. She sighed and nodded, and they went on their way of planning for the coming battle. The next day Iounn left with only Hors out into the misty moors, before dawn so no one could stop her.

“You are sure about this?” Iounn said.

“I have to lure the Crippled One into this battle,” Hors said. “We have to get there before everyone else.”

“Why?” Iounn asked.

“I just think it will work better,” Hors said as he shrugged.

“And how do you plan on laying this trap?” Iounn asked but Hors merely shrugged. Deciding to let Hors be a cat about it, Iounn let the subject drop. They rode on through the moors, Hors guiding her since he seemed to know where the Troll Pastures were. Iounn supposed Daun was one of the Kingdoms that had remained mostly unchanged over the time the Phay had been away. Other than Xin, Daun seemed the most connected to the old times. It was fitting of course, both kingdoms were the ones in the far corners of the Nine Kingdoms.

They reached the Troll Pastures ten days after they had left the camp, after riding hard and long through the days. The Troll Pastures were indeed how Dylan and the others had described, a bog of mud and twisted low trees. Crows were the only birds here, no other creature seemed to be stirring through the mossy muddy ground. Iounn had to dismount to carefully lead her horse over the swampy ground, dark mud soon coating her up to her knees.

She followed a winding path of grasses that marked the only safe spots to walk until they reached what appeared to be a knoll sitting over the bog. The hill stuck out in the low wide landscape; it was the size of a cottage with a giant twisted tree sitting on top of it. Iounn noticed the tree was much like a seat in shape, in the crook of the twisted tree someone could have easily sat at their leisure.

“Mór Ríoghain’s throne,” Hors said. “The Troll Queen, this was where she liked to hold her court.”

“She lived here?” Iounn asked looking around for a palace.

“No, the Trolls preferred to wander,” Hors answered. “She only held court here occasionally. Mostly the Trolls wandered the moors, they had no houses or belongings.”

Iounn nodded though she couldn’t really imagine such a life. There were the Rhodin yes, but they had wagons, even the nomads had belongings they carried. What made the Trolls any different than beasts then?

“This is also a meeting of the lines,” Hors said, not noticing Iounn’s puzzlement.

“So, we will call on the Crippled One here then?” Iounn asked.

“Yes, it would be safer to call him rather than enter the lines,” Hors said. “I only hope he comes.”

He jumped down to the ground and walked over to a stump that sat before the hill. Sitting down he curled his tail around his claws and raised his head. Several moments passed, Iounn waiting for something to sound or happen.

“Well?” Iounn said hesitantly after nothing had happened.

“I sent out the call into the aether,” Hors answered. “It should work, I know his true name after all.”

Iounn nodded, not sure exactly what Hors meant by the name but was willing to wait and see. She hobbled her horse and brushed it down in the meantime, she was never very good at waiting unless she had something to do. Her chore finished, she ate some trail bread and water, but still nothing had happened.

“I don’t think it worked,” Iounn said.

“Time moves strangely in the lines,” Hors answered. “Be patient.”

Iounn sighed and sat down, deciding she would take a nap. She dozed off, the darkness of sleep giving way to a haze of color. Before Iounn could step into the dream, a sharp prick on her arm woke her. She woke to Hors standing on her chest, his eyes bright.

“Do not dream,” Hors said. “The Crippled One is near, it is dangerous.”

Iounn nodded, too afraid to say anything. Hors nodded once and returned to his post, staring up at the great tree. Deciding she would do the same Iounn joined him, finding a dry clump of grass to sit on.

She didn’t have long to wait, the air around the tree began to ripple and change. A darkness now sat on the throne of the Troll Queen, no shape or form other than a void.

“Pathetic little dragon,” the Crippled One growled. “Here to plead mercy for your kin?”

“You would not grant it if I asked,” Hors said. “You seek to eat them; I cannot convince you that it would never fill you or stop your hunger.”

“It will,” the Crippled One growled. “If not mercy, what do you seek?”

“To know your plans,” Hors said. “Why call the Orcs down from the mountains to attack the lands of men? Why are they scattered across the moors without reason?”

“There is reason,” the Crippled One answered. “Not that I would ever tell you my plans.”

“Really? It looks more like you have no control of them,” Hors said, his tail flicking.

“I have total control of my armies,” the Crippled One growled and Hors laughed.

“Then why scatter them? Why not gather them into one mighty force to crush us all?” Hors asked.

“You cowardly little whelp,” the Crippled One growled. “My plans are vast; I know of every little move you will make!”

“Then tell me what we are up to?” Hors asked mockingly.

“You are gathering!” the Crippled One said loudly, “I see you mustering your forces and armies. You mean to make a stand here, against my army but… Ah well I see now, I just need to crush your forces before they gather here.”

“And how will you do that?” Hors asked.

“I see the dwarves have moved out first,” the Crippled One said. “I will start with them and feast upon the souls of the fallen. Then the men are next.”

“It won’t work,” Hors said. “We will defeat you and your armies.”

“No cur, it is I who will feast,” the Crippled One said. He vanished into the aether, leaving the air feeling stale and dead.

“Did that work?” Iounn asked.

“By the time he gathers the Orcs the Dwarves will be dug in here,” Hors answered. “Hopefully it looks as if he is moving his armies here before the rest of our forces are gathered.”

“How did he know all of that?” Iounn asked.

“He must have a weaver telling him the goings of the world,” Hors answered. “Spying from the lines only lets him know a little. A weaver can see more at one time than a spirit peering out into Miread.”

“Weaver?” Iounn asked.

“It is a power of the Elder Magic,” Hors answered. “The ability to sense the threads that tie the world. The threads are events moving along in the woven tapestry of time. Those threads are woven together into the fabric of the present and into the past, but there are those who can sense the threads as they move into the fabric.”

“So, like a seer, like Meredydd,” Iounn said.

“No, the sight is different,” Hors said. “The sight lets your see into the future, often living in those times as it is hard for the mind to know the when of things. A witch with the sight sees and lives different times, never the past and rarely the present. A weaver feels the threads, they cannot foresee events or prevent disasters. It is a lot vaguer of a sense, more useful in sensing the present over the world than predicting events.”

Iounn nodded, not sure what it all meant but decided it was beyond her.

“Should we return?” Iounn asked. “I don’t want to wait here; this place gives me goose bumps.”

“Very well,” Hors said leaping back onto her shoulder. “Let’s meet with the Dwarves.”

They did not have far to ride, though the dwarves were on foot they had already covered half the distance to Troll Pastures. Iounn met with them just as the sun was setting over the moors, the sky a burning red. She met with Runi and imparted the news of the meeting.

“So, the bait has been laid,” Runi said sounding tired.

“Now we just have to wait for the Giants,” Iounn said.

“We received word of the Orc movements,” Hákon said pulling out a map to show Iounn. He wordlessly pointed to a place on the map not far from Troll Pastures.

“We’re there?” Iounn asked.

“No, we are here,” Hákon said moving his finger to the left. “There is one of the Orc tribes.”

“They are that close!” Iounn said.

“Seems so,” Hákon said.

“We need to alert King Dylan then,” Iounn said.

“He knows,” Runi said and Iounn frowned. “Lady Iounn, if he sends reinforcements the rest of the Orc armies might not come. We will have to defeat the early coming army on our own.”

“And can we?” Iounn asked shocked.

“We shall see,” Runi said. “It will be tight, but I suspect we will be able to get to Troll Pastures before the Orcs with some time to prepare bullworks and trenches. The Orcs have never been good at fighting in anything other than hand-to-hand. We’ve been fighting them since the Phay Marched, but they have never evolved much in that time.”

“Do not rely on that,” Hors warned. “The Crippled One is paying attention to them now, and the army to the east has managed to defeat the lands of men.”

“We will keep that in mind,” Hákon said but even Iounn was not fully convinced. She bowed and took her leave to rest in the tent the Dwarves provided her.

“You will want me to keep alert for trickery of the Orcs wont you?” Iounn said to Hors once they were settled.

“Yes, and I am glad you have Runi’s ear, she will listen to you,” Hors said. “I fear the dwarves have been fighting the Orcs too long and believe they know their enemy.”

“They may be right,” Iounn said.

“And I hope they are,” Hors said. “If not, our plan may fail.”

“But the seer…”

“Saw a possibility,” Hors said. “What she saw is not set in stone. And there was little detail in the first place.”

Iounn sighed a nodded, knowing a hard path of battle and death lay ahead.

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