“Just as you work with the Mistress of the Abyss who wants to bring back Sakatha in his undead state and thus increase her own power,” said the snake creature. “We are all looking for our own advantage; perhaps you and I can work together in this case. I do not wish either your mistress or the lizards to have the staff. My people want it for another purpose.”
“And what purpose is that?” said Lord Whitebone as he turned to face his companion.
“I am not willing to divulge that Lord Whitebone,” the snake man replied, “perhaps if you told me your own plans for the thing I might prove more accommodating.”
Whitebone laughed, a clack of sorts, and shook his head no, “A valid argument. No, I do not want the staff in the hands of the eternal ruler of the Abyss. You haven’t seen a dark cloud of a creature named Tenebrous hanging about by any chance?”
The child of Nechustan shook its head for a moment, “I’ve heard the name but never had the pleasure of meeting the thing myself. I understand it escaped from the Deathlands a dozen times before the Mistress of the Abyss allowed it stay?”
“I’m not particularly familiar with its history,” said Whitebone with a shrug. “In any case, if you see the creature, inform it that I want a meeting with it.”
“As you command, Lord Whitebone,” said the snake beast starting to say something else when the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from down the path. Within a few moments the footsteps came close, then suddenly stopped and although Sorus could not see the creature, a third party joined the conversation.
It began to speak in some sort of strange language that Sorus did not understand, but the snake creature gave it a sharp rebuke and it then started talking with a strange accent in the language of the local traders. “Master Shill, Master Shill,” said the voice.
“What is it?” said the snake.
“They return, the big one and the freerider,” said the voice. “They come quickly, they surprised us, they killed…,” it went on apparently ready to continue its speech.
“I do not care who they killed,” said the snake creature. “Lord Whitebone, we must make haste back to the old ruin before they catch us here.”
The skeletal creature looked at the snake man for a moment, then turned his gaze to the hastily constructed cairn, looked around in all directions and, for a moment, his hot red eyes seemed to come to rest on the exact spot where Sorus lay hidden. “I,” it said, “I sense something.”
“We cannot wait,” said the snake creature.
“They’re coming,” said the goblin, its voice quaking with fear, “you didn’t see the big one with his awful sword, Smasher. He killed my brother!”
Whitebone waited a moment longer, his terrible gaze finally lifted from Sorus’s hidden spot, and darted to a small rocky outcropping above them, but then nodded his head. He started to say something but turned with a twirl of his heavy cloak and the group was gone from Sorus’s vision. Just a few minutes later Jon and Proteus trotted up the trail, their horses making enough noise to wake the dead.
Jon came into the clearing first and looked around, “Sorus? Did it work?”
Sorus popped his head out from the rocks, a huge grin on his face. “Better than I ever imagined,” he said and then began to slap at his leg where apparently the entire colony of ants had decided to roost. “I’m infested!”
Chapter 16
“We should attack the little village and slay them all,” said Melharras Yushhha as his spectacularly bedecked uniform glistened in the sunlight that shone at the edge of the large cavern. The less finely dressed priest of Sakatha, Usharra Dushallama, stood a step back in the shadows and the sounds of reptile men filtered from further back in the cave.
“Our job,” said Usharra not for the first time, “is to get to the Mountains of the Orc where the dreams of Chusaursea guide us to the Staff of Sakatha. It is not to engage the Freeriders in battle.”
“Battle,” said Melharras with a sneer as his lips curled back and exposed long, sharp teeth. “They are but women and children. The scout told us that two days ago when he first encountered the little village. Their warriors wait in the flats, bicker with one another, and stink so foully that the birds refuse to nest in the trees near them. We descend on the village, take a few prisoners, then lure the men into an ambush and kill them all. It is a simple matter really,” finished the general with a nonchalant wave of his hand.
“And when the entire nation of Freeriders comes to avenge this affront?” said Usharra.
“We shall already be in the Mountains of the Orc with the Staff of Sakatha in our possession. With the staff you, no doubt, can wield enough power to defeat such simple barbarians,” said the general and smiled at the priest. “I grow weary of traveling at night and avoiding detection by these people. They are weak and need to feel the poison of our bite!”
“Moving this many warriors at night to avoid alerting the inhabitants of this land are our orders nevertheless,” said the priest with a shrug of his soldiers. “The Mountains of the Orc are but two or three more nights of travel ahead. Perhaps you can cool your fighting ardor until then. I suspect that your soldiers will find themselves with quite a bit to do once we arrive in the mountains.”
“I find your cowardice quite distasteful,” said General Melharras in a rather bored tone, “and I shall report such when we return to Darag’dal.”
“I would think your braggadocio might be lessened after watching a third of your fighting force drown off the coast last week,” said High Priest Usharra in an equally bored tone of voice.
“Warriors die,” said Melharras as he turned to face the priest. “A veteran like me knows that most of them die of disease or mishap and only the smallest percentage die in combat or of their wounds. Besides, many of them managed to swim to the other two ships so it was hardly a third of my entire force.”
“Your compassion for your fellow soldiers is admirable,” said Usharra and turned away from the general with a shake of his head.
“Your foolish sentimentality is distressing, Usharra,” said Melharras as he followed the priest and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “We are here to do a job and that is all. If men die then they die. If you die then I take command. Now that we’re off those vessels I allow you to command, but I will tolerate it for only so much longer. If I wished to kill the women and children of that town I would do so and there is nothing you can do to stop me. Have I made myself clear to you, priest?”
“I understood you from the very beginning of this operation, general,” said Usharra and brushed the hand off his shoulder with a sudden movement. “While I understand that setting aside our differences is impossible, I do think we must coordinate our ascent of the mountain. I find the dreams of the Toxic One most erratic of late and particularly unhelpful. We need to make a plan in the event we cannot immediately find the Staff of Sakatha. I have strong indications that there are others interested in the item and they will fight us for it.”
“If you find the dreams difficult to interpret then I suppose Chusarausea chooses that to be the case,” said the general with a smile that revealed his long rows of sharp teeth. He put his hand on his sword hilt, “I take it as a sign that you’ve fallen out of favor with the dragon and with the tribal elders. That being the case, I see no real reason you are of use to this expedition at all.” With that the tall reptile pulled out his sword and took a step back.
Usharra took three steps back himself, raised his hands, and began to mutter magical words when a low cough interrupted them.
The general turned towards a smallish reptile man with scales colored largely a dull gray with a few patches of black, “What do you want?”
“It’s that reconnaissance you sent out, general,” said the boy with a squeak in his voice. “They met up with some Freeriders and there was a battle.”
“What reconnaissance?” said Usharra.
The boy looked at the priest, his eyes wide and then looked back at the general but said nothing.
“Damn you Melharras, if you destroyed our chance to get the staff in order to gain some personal glory I’ll…,” he stood for a moment incapable of putting thoughts to words as the heavily armed general stood ready to strike with his sword.
