By Volk-Oboroten'
Several weeks later . . .
Valaric returned from patrol, somewhat dismayed not to find any lutins near Lik's new road through the Tauremorna. He'd normally find a few greedy bandits near the edge of the forest, eager to steal the ties for their metal content. But none had dared to attack during the past week, for all feared the power of Lilith and the strange magic possessed by the Black Claw.
Often, Valaric would recall the offer he had received at Cirith Morgul, to become a servant of the Black Claw. While he found the idea of working for a feline demon loathsome, he wondered if Lilith still had any use for him. There was really no need for a military campaign in the Giantdowns, for the only battles were occurring far away, between Baron Calephas and the dragons. Lilith had no desire to intervene in this remote conflict.
While occasionally lutin raids occurred near the human towns, the main problem was magical. Valaric knew some spells, but the Queen had trained him to be a warrior, not a wizard. Thus, his talents were of little use in this struggle. Rogue sorcerers were said to be loose in many areas, but the Malachite Order had promised to reduce their threat to the populace. Some had disappeared, while others agreed to join the Malachites. But was having these dangerous mages work for the Nameless One a real solution?
For the first time in several months, Valaric felt uncertain about his future. Would there really be a campaign against Nasoj's Citadel in the spring? Most of the humans in the Giantdowns had no desire for more conflict, as they would prefer to enjoy the new prosperity promised by the Forest Queen's benevolent rule in peace. Valaric had persuaded Dagobert to continue training a few men, in case of a surprise raid on Lik, but no attacks occurred. After mid-April, as Recared no longer demanded daily reports, Valaric felt free to spend much of his time in the forest, running with a pack of dire wolves.
But today was different. Valaric planned to meet a delegation from the Forest of Darkness at Lik's Guild Hall, just after sunset. He hoped Lilith's agents had realized the peril of trusting the Black Claw, and were ready to do something about the feline sorcerer. The construction of the rails across the Tauremorna particularly bothered Valaric, as he thought the iron road must be part of some sinister scheme concocted by Gorthaur.
Concentrating on his face, Valaric pulled his muzzle back, allowing his features to uneasily flow into a human pattern, resembling the visage of the former Guild Lord of Lik. Most of the townsfolk knew that he was more comfortable to appear as a wolf, but Valaric wanted to look fully human when he attended a formal meeting. After all, he regarded them as his pack now, for he must guard Lik from any who would harm it.
Reaching the Guild Hall, Valaric saw Recared and Dagobert standing outside, next to the rails. A few of Dagobert's men stood next to a strange device, a machine full of whirring gears and spinning rotors. As the smell of blood seemed to seep out of every gap in the metal, Valaric guessed that the odd apparatus must be one of the Black Claw's creations.
"It's good to see you here," said Dagobert. "We're worried that someone might try to steal this thing for it's said to be quite valuable. The Karuvati brought it down from Cirith Morgul this afternoon, and were very reluctant to leave it here."
"But I made them depart," declared Recared imperiously. "Lik won't be pushed around by a feline mage, or his servants. When the Black Claw demanded more supplies for his arcane experiments last week, I sent a message, requesting an engine to push our wagons along these tracks. What's the use of having these rails if we can't move goods along them swiftly? So, I got him to deal, and made a good bargain with Spike Tail yesterday."
"The draconian? Do you really trust him?" asked Valaric, unconsciously gripping the hilt of his sword. He liked the draconians who served Lilith, but was convinced that the Black Claw had only recruited rejects, draconians who were so demented that the Queen couldn't use them.
"We'll find out this evening," said Recared, glancing at the plunging pistons on the magical mechanism. "I don't know what to think of it, but it reminds me of the big clock in the center square of Lik. Those metal gears look something like the mechanism driving its hands. But I can't figure out how it could possibly move something forward on a rail."
"Someone's supposed to come from Caralore tonight who knows how to use it. I hope he's a human, but I rather suspect it's one of those Malachites," muttered Dagobert.
"We shouldn't worry about whether someone's human or not," noted Recared. "What matters is whether people are willing to help Lik. In fact, I see Kriemhilda approaching, right up the street left of the Guild Hall. Even though she's a vampire, she's always had the best interests of Lik at heart. I'm glad that she's returned from her long journey to the Forest of Darkness, for her counsel has been very helpful to me."
Recalling his past dealings with the vampiress, Valaric turned to see Kriemhilda. She looked as beautiful as ever, for her pale skin seemed quite translucent in the light of the torches along Lik's narrow roads. She wore a black dress with vermillion sleeves, highlighted by a matching collar around her neck, almost the same color as her pouting lips.
While Valaric was not as susceptible to her magic as the humans, he found himself spellbound, feeling that he would do anything she asked. Then, he broke his gaze, recalling what was needed. He must get her to warn Lilith about Black Claw's rebellion!
"Good evening," said Kriemhilda, smiling at Valaric as she addressed the humans. "The Queen is very pleased with your work, Recared. We had not expected the rails to be finished until May, but you have exceeded all of our expectations."
"It wouldn't have been possible without the Karuvati," said Recared, recalling how rapidly the metal bars had been laid across the Tauremorna. "Unlike humans, they don't seem to be affected by the Nexus. Also, they worked tirelessly, needing little sleep."
"Aren't you concerned about them?" asked Valaric. "I'm afraid that the Karuvati may be more loyal to their master than to Lilith. Isn't it risky to have them in the Tauremorna?"
"All lutins honor the Queen," declared Kriemhilda, briefly showing her fangs at Valaric in displeasure. "It's been that way for centuries. The Queen is quite pleased with the new cat-lutins, for in addition to being fine servants, they serve as examples for other lutins who aren't properly submissive. The Malachites will take care of any who cause trouble."
"I'm concerned that the Malachites themselves might cause trouble," commented Valaric, watching a group of draconians nearing the Guild Hall. "Did those reptiles accompany you from Caralore? Are they true servants of the Queen, or minions of Gorthaur?"
"The Black Claw doesn't like his name to be overused," said Kriemhilda, coyly smiling at Valaric, but mildly irked at his unbidden use of the true name of the lord of Cirith Morgul. "A sensible policy, I think. Why don't you call yourself 'The Black Fang' anymore? Have you allowed yourself to become soft from staying here in Lik? Remember, if you want to remain a ruler in the Giantdowns, you must be feared as well as loved."
Before Kriemhilda finished addressing Valaric, the draconians arrived, walking straight up to the rails. Behind them, a group of men followed. As many had the same pallid complexion as Kriemhilda, Valaric guessed they were members of the Eternal Brotherhood, vampires who had dedicated their souls to Lilith.
Standing next to the odd machine balanced on top of the rails, the draconian's leader declared, "I am Fire Claw, a trusted servant of the Black Claw. He sent me to make sure that the engine runs properly. As it uses arcane magic, its operation may not be trusted to humansss."
"We only care if it operates at all," observed Recared. "Your master will only get the items he requested if this device is effective, faster than a horse."
"It's much faster than any horse, even herds of wild mustangsss," said Fire Claw, pointing to the gears on the front of the machine. "It operates by turning rapidly in a clockwise, deasil direction, activating certain spellsss."
"What are your companions doing?" asked Dagobert, as he saw a draconian pouring a green fluid into a slot on the side of the apparatus. Another reptile-man kneeled next to the side of metallic gadget, rapidly moving levers in several directions with his claws.
Fire Claw did not answer, but instead stared upwards at the mountains behind Lik. A mysterious red glow seemed to emanate from a cloud just beyond the nearest ridge, high above the valley where the Black Claw made his dwelling. A sudden flash, like a bolt of lightning, momentarily appeared in the cloud, but soon faded away into maroon mist.
After the burst of light from the cloud, Fire Claw grabbed a lever on the machine and rapidly pulled it downward with his right claw. Dagobert leaped backward, for the device seemed to be alive, making a sound like a swarm of bees. Then, the wheel on the front of the apparatus begin to turn, faster and faster, until it became a blur to all onlookers.
Fire Claw looked directly at Recared with a steely gaze, saying "Your goods will reach the Dark Keep by morning. It's easy to move ore on rails with a deasil engine."
"By morning!" exclaimed Recared. "It takes five days, even if you ride on a fast horse!"
Valaric felt very uneasy about Fire Claw's prediction, desperately hoping that it would not prove true. He hated to imagine how much the power the Black Claw could gain if his engine really could move items this quickly. Also, as Valaric looked at Fire Claw, he noticed that his normally green eyes appeared different, as they seemed colder, filled with a strange golden light.
"No one could cross the Tauremorna in one night," said Recared, with a laugh. But his mirth quickly stopped, for Fire Claw's baleful gaze chilled his soul. The draconian's yellow eyes glowed with power, his piercing, catlike stare full of malice. Recared turned away, averting his own eyes, for he sensed the presence of a fell being of enormous power. The unseen thing had power far beyond that wielded by any of Lilith's servants, but was now darkly veiled by its temporary residence in Fire Claw.
"No human understands this form of magic, nor shall I share it with them. The engine will only function when serviced by draconians, for they alone shall supply its fuel. Spiral Horn shall be in charge of tonight's journey," continued Fire Claw, as another draconian finished pouring a green fluid into the back of the machine. Something began to hum inside it, as the entire device began to slowly rise, hovering in the air a few inches above the iron rails.
As the machine levitated, Fire Claw glanced at Kriemhilda, saying "Your face is so beguiling; it reminds me of Thuringwethil, a vampiress I once knew. But that was very long ago."
She smiled back at him, saying, "Lilith is very pleased with the new rails. They will be very useful next spring, especially if we need to transport the army to the west. As promised, I've brought the giant spider you requested. I'm sure she'll be an efficient guard for Cirith Morgul."
A group of draconians started to haul a heavy crate up a nearby path, being careful not to get near to the gaps in the wood lining the box. However, a street rat was not so lucky. As the rodent darted along the path, a huge hairy arm erupted from the side of the crate, seizing the animal in sticky hairs and pulling it inside. The rat squeaked for a few seconds but was soon silent, having become a snack for a hungry arachnid.
"Which one is Spiral Horn?" asked Dagobert. "I was told that I'm supposed to accompany the mithril out to the Dark Keep. I'm afraid that I'm not very good at identifying draconians, especially ones I haven't seen before."
Fire Claw did not answer, but instead stood motionless, lost in thought. Then, he opened his eyes, which no longer glowed with ethereal energy. Pointing at a draconian who was pouring the last drops of fluid from a vial into the machine, he declared, "That's him. Do everything that he saysss. I must leave now to attend to my Master's businesss. We need the great spider to guard the path to Cirith Morgul, in order to protect our secretsss. Too many prying eyesss."
The draconian hissed as he walked by Valaric, making the lupine warrior wonder if Fire Claw was referring to him. He had long suspected that the Black Claw hadn't approved of his visit to Cirith Morgul earlier in April with Dagobert. What sort of secrets were hidden up there? For one thing, Valaric could smell blood in the foul liquid which Spiral Horn had poured into the machine. What sort of dark sorcery was needed to fuel a deasil engine?
"Have the wagons been lashed together with cordsss?" asked Spiral Horn. "We must keep them bound closely together, so nothing slipsss. They will move at high speedsss."
"Everything's ready," said Dagobert, awed by the ability of the engine to float above the rails, "I'll ride in the second wagon behind your machine."
"I must stay in the front, to monitor the machine, while ore will be stored in the remaining carsss," said Spiral Horn. "Other draconians are waiting at the Dark Keep, ready to guard the mithril from any thievesss. But the engine itself is more valuable than any amount of metal, so it will be given special protection, as promised by Lilith's servantsss."
"I'm also going with Dagobert," remarked Valaric. "There's enough room in the wagon, and I need to learn what's happened at the Dark Keep. I haven't been there since January, and it's vital now for the security of Lik's trade with the outside world."
As Valaric walked toward the wagon, Kriemhilda reminded him, "It's also vital to the Queen's plans. Other things beside ore could be transported by this engine. Just think about how quickly it could move an army."
"I suppose we'll have to build rails north of Caralore, in order to approach Nasoj's Citadel. But that will be difficult to do without drawing the wizard's attention."
"Valaric, I was describing this area. I received your message about the Black Claw's servants not wearing Lilith's ankh. If there's any sign that he plans to rebel against the Queen, her army of magic users could move here very quickly. No one may defy us!"
Climbing into the wagon, Valaric brooded on Kriemhilda's words. Had Lilith been fooled by the Black Claw? This engine wouldn't run unless his draconians supplied it with a mysterious fuel, which only seemed to be produced in Cirith Morgul.
Or was something else going on? Valaric recalled that Kriemhilda had said something about the army moving west in the spring. Toward Starven? Why would that town draw the eye of the mighty Vampire Queen? After all, it was only a poor fishing village.
A few minutes later, Spiral Horn pulled a chain on the back of the deasil engine, after hooking the front wagon to a latch at the end of the machine. An eerie glow filled the air, as the whirring engine rose above the rails, suspended in the air only inches above the iron plating. Soon, the entire chain of wagons began to slide forward, slowly at first, but soon racing forward into the Tauremorna, faster than the swiftest steed.
Early the next morning, Valaric arrived in Starven, curious about events there. He'd heard many rumors about fighting between humans in Arabarb and dragons. While Lilith hadn't pledged any military assistance to Baron Calephas, he recalled that a trade agreement was said to still be in effect. He'd need to check with Marcomir, leader of the village.
"Lord Valaric," said Marcomir, surprised to see an eminent visitor. "Starven is honored by your presence. We would have prepared a formal welcome, but had no word that you were coming. Normally, news travels fast along the road."
"I left from Lik yesterday," replied Valaric. "And I hope to return there tomorrow, with a band of merchants returning from Metamor Keep."
"Only one day!" said Marcomir, with astonishment. "Strange magic must be involved, to provide you with such speed, Lord Valaric."
"Don't worry about calling me 'Lord'", said Valaric, "Recared is Guild Lord of Lik now, and Dagobert is Captain of its guard. I'm merely in charge of watching its security on behalf of the Queen, ensuring that no one endangers Lik's trade. No titles are needed."
"But we want to honor you, for delivering us from the tyranny of Nasoj," said Marcomir.
Lowenherz then arrived, looking intently at the draconians standing behind Valaric. One of them seemed very familiar, making Lowenherz ask, "Isn't that Spiral Horn? I saw him with Cnivagild back in early April. I've got some questions to ask him."
Valaric replied, "No. Spiral Horn's back at the Dark Keep, guarding the engine. It's one his friends, sent by Fire Claw."
"Fire Claw!" exclaimed Marcomir. "He's still alive? Lowenherz said that Cnivagild had him hogtied to a boat, right near the stolen gold. We were all sure the dragons killed him, for he was trapped on the beach, near the Dragon Mountains. The dragons can't stand draconians -- they'll kill them any chance they get."
"We must interrogate Fire Claw," demanded Lowenherz. "He knows what really happened over there. I don't believe his story about being forced to sail across the Sea of Souls by Bragamund and Cnivagild."
"Fire Claw is back at Cirith Morgul, deep in the Black Claw's fortress," replied Valaric. "But I'd like to know more about these dragons. Why did they start attacking Arabarb? Have they threatened any of the caravans in the Giantdowns?"
"None of our caravans go to Arabarb," stated Marcomir firmly. "No one goes there now, as all fear the dragons' fiery breath."
"We won't reward the traitor Cnivagild," added another villager. "Some people think he's still alive, for the dragons never found him."
"Some people claim that he stole a hoard of gold from the oracle and brought it to the baron. That's why the big war started," added a third man, pointing across the Sea of Souls.
"It certainly sounds like your decision not to trade with the baron was wise. There's no sense in risking the dragons' wrath," said Valaric. "But what about Metamor Keep? Have there been any problems in trading there? Has the Curse affected anyone?"
"None of the merchants stay there for more than a day," said Marcomir. "They've heard that a guild of thieves is active there, and are also worried about being cursed."
"Cursed? But doesn't it take several days to be afflicted with transformations there?" inquired Valaric, surprised at Marcomir's comment. "If that's the problem, I'm sure Lilith could provide some wards. Nasoj's soldiers used special devices during the campaign last winter, which protected them from the Metamor Curse."
"No, that's not it," said another villager. "There are lots of bad mages there!"
"They kidnap people! I heard someone was turned into a pig!" exclaimed another, looking south with a sneer, "That place is full of evil wizardry."
"Even worse, those Keepers spy on you! Their duke is said to turn into a real horse and wander through the town, attempting to learn your secrets. When I visited Metamor, I saw so many strange things that I swore I'd never return," grumbled a nearby woman.
"Please, tell me your stories individually," requested Valaric. "As we are no longer at war, the Queen wants me to guarantee the security of her trade routes. Lilith wants her subjects to prosper, so any threats from Metamor Keep would require my immediate attention. Have the Keepers actually done anything to merchants passing through their valley?"
No one answered for a while. Then, Lowenherz spoke, "These tales are all rumors, which may have a grain of truth, but carry much falsehood as well. As far as I can tell, the Keepers bear no ill will toward men from Lik. Any involuntary transformations which might occur there would surely not be authorized by the duke, especially as he values trade as much as Lik does."
"I trust your judgment," said Valaric. "For I recall meeting you on the road to the Dark Keep in Janary, Lowenherz. Your description of the Keepers' battle with the lutins near Raven Rock was widely reported in Lik, convincing us that they had our best interests in mind. But I'll need to talk to the villagers here in Starven, to find out if any threats could arise."
"Could you lead me to Fire Claw?" asked Lowenherz. "Marcomir thinks that Bragamund somehow acquired the power to coerce his draconians into attacking the Oracle of Samekkh, but I can't believe it. The resulting war was a major threat to trade around here, as I'm sure you're aware, Valaric."
"Arrest Fire Claw and bring him here for questioning," pleaded Marcomir. "We need to know what really happened."
"I can't do that," replied Valaric. "Fire Claw's master is an enigmatic sorcerer who hides in a valley behind Lik. His lair is closely guarded, so it would be impossible for me to capture a draconian there unless Lilith herself approved the expedition. Mages would be needed . . ."
"So, you can't help us?" asked Marcomir. "We still don't know if Cnivagild is dead or alive. Some think the dragons incinerated him, but others say that even the dragons don't know where he is. It just doesn't make sense. Why did he leave the gold and then disappear?"
As Valaric began talking to the villagers, collecting tales about what had happened to merchants who had travelled to Metamor Keep, Lowenherz walked up the path away from Starven's docks. As usual, Beruthiel was waiting for him, standing next to a pine tree. Once again, she pleaded with Lowenherz to consider her offer. "Join the Malachite Order. We can't supply the magic for your collar indefinitely. One day, you will have to choose."
Grasping the iron collar below his neck, Lowenherz fingered the green stone. It was the only thing which kept him from turning into a manticore every night. It was so precious to him, allowing Lowenherz to retain his humanity in spite of his curse.
"When you enter the service of the Nameless One, we will permanently free you from the were-manticore curse. Or give you full control over it, if you prefer. Why are you delaying, Lowenherz? Just pledge your soul to the Nameless One, and you will know true freedom."
Recalling his encounter with the dragon who guarded the Oracle of Samekkh, Lowenherz replied, "I can never do that, for I have sworn a vow to serve Akkala. She saved me from the dragon, for mentioning her name protected me from Zahak's wrath."
"But the dragon left me alone as well," replied Beruthiel. "It's not like I'm asking you to serve Lilith. The daedra are inferior beings, far weaker than the Nameless One, who is the true Friend of Mankind. Accept him, and take pride in your own worth."
"I can't do it," said Lowenherz. "I've served Akkala for many years and remain confident that she will someday lift this curse."
"Some day!" said Beruthiel angrily. "When? Just before you wither away from old age? When I met you, the curse was draining your life force, sapping your strength every hour."
"I put my trust in the gods," replied Lowenherz firmly.
"But I love you. I don't want to see you grow old and die. Join us, and learn the joy of true freedom. As a follower of the Nameless One, you will have a long life with all that you desire - great fame, vast riches, and love. The Malachite Order rewards all who care for themselves, refusing to allow the demands of others restrain them. Why obey the whims of a minor goddess?"
Taking the iron collar off and placing it in his cloak, Lowenherz answered, "I pledged my life to Akkala and will not break my oath."
"How can you serve such a cruel mistress, one who would let you grow old and die, merely to further her petty feud with the daedra? Renounce her, and swear allegiance to the Nameless One. Then, you can stay with me and learn many secrets unknown to mortal men. Just think of the riches available to a bold Malachite, one who can stand before a fiery dragon without fear. How can you say no?"
Lowenherz walked away, returning to the docks to confer with Marcomir. He was growing tired of Beruthiel's constant appeals, but knew that he'd have to do something soon. Perhaps he should travel to Metamor Keep himself, to learn more about ways of seeking favor from Akkala. Then, perhaps he would no longer need to rely upon this accursed collar!
As Lowenherz left, he heard Beruthiel utter a shrill warning, "We've invested a great deal of magical energy in allowing you to remain human. Do you think the Malachite Order will accept a simple rejection, after all we've done for you? You have until May to make a decision, Lowenherz. Choose wisely."
[The End]