“He tried to wrestle me off my feet in the second go round,” said Odellius.
“Really?” said the First Rider raising his bushy eyebrows and smiling broadly.
“Truly,” said Odellius, “and he damn near sent me tumbling, but I managed to throw him off balance in the end. I would say he is a fine warrior and trustworthy as well. I’ll come with you to the mountains and wherever else you order me.”
“First Rider,” said the lieutenant who arrived. “The prisoners are en route to Black Roost and we await further orders.”
The First Rider stood for a moment as he looked towards the mountains in the distance, then to the hills more directly to his right, and finally back to his lieutenant. “I’m ending Sir Odellius’s civilian tour,” he said and pointed to the rotund knight. “Find a horse big enough to carry him and bring it here. Then take the main body to where you think the remaining reptiles might be up in the hills. Send a fast messenger to the Black Horse temple in the foothills of the Mountains of the Orc and tell them to expect me within a week.”
“Yes, sir,” said his lieutenant and immediately turned and began to bark out orders.
“You and I will continue alone to the temple and try and find this Jon Gray, the brewer boy, and Germanius,” said the First Rider.
“The mountains are quite large,” said Sir Odellius with a shake of his head. “They could be anywhere up there if they’re still alive.”
“There’s more going on than you know, Sir Odellius,” said the First Rider as he looked back towards the mountains. “The priests at the temple are versed in the arts of the Old Empire. Where they direct us we will find this boy of gray, I assure you of that.”
“If he’s alive,” repeated Odellius.
Chapter 20
“I don’t like this at all,” said master Shill as he and Whitebone stood in the open cave bathed by the red glow from a dozen light stones embedded in the walls.
“They are clever,” the skeleton lord began to answer, but the war cry of Proteus caused him to turn and face the charging knight. Whitebone whipped out his sword but the snake creature was not as fast to arm himself, and Proteus slashed with his sword and tore deeply into the side of the creature. Whitebone raised a skeletal hand, spoke in a strange language, a green glow leapt from his hand, and it plowed into Proteus who went flying backwards.
Master Shill dropped to a knee and tried to hold in his guts as Jon Gray came charging at them only bounce off the green energy shield that now protected the duo.
“Jon Gray,” said Whitebone. The boy’s head snapped up as he looked at the skeletal figure closely.
“You know me,” Jon replied in his native tongue and Sorus, who skidded to a stop a moment before he crashed into the green barrier, looked at Jon, “What?”
Jon looked at Sorus, “He knows me,” he translated.
“Do you know him,” asked Sorus looking back and forth to the skeleton and Jon.
Jon shook his head, “No, at least not in his current condition. Perhaps I knew him when he was a living creature,” he said with a wry smile and a shrug of his shoulders.
“I know your father well,” said Whitebone and switched to the dialect of the traders that everyone could understand, “the Gray Lord. I know your brother Valarious and your sister Jane. I know your people, the Tanelornians. I know that your father possesses the Gray Horn which when sounded will signal the end of the world. I know that he has obtained the Usurper’s black sword, Banisher.”
“You have me at a disadvantage then, sir,” said Jon, his huge gray sword flicked back and forth and he looked for an opening in the green energy shield.
“Lord,” said Whitebone, “address me as Lord Whitebone. I also know why you are here, that you want to obtain the Staff of Sakatha to add to your father’s collection.”
“Why do you talk to them,” hissed Shill and winced in agony from the terrible wound at his side. “My life’s blood flows out, heal me.”
Whitebone turned to the snake, nodded his head, and then turned back to Jon, Sorus, and Proteus who had regained his feet, although his knees noticeably wobbled. “My companion wants me to heal him. I assume you do not wish for this to happen?”
“Damn right,” shouted Sorus brandishing his own blade, “if you so much as start to cast a spell I’ll… I’ll… kill you.”
Whitebone shook his thick white skull and his deep red eyes seemed to turn a shade of green for a moment, “I’m terribly frightened now,” he said. “Jon, we can work this out to your satisfaction and to mine,” he continued.
“Damn you, Whitebone,” said Shill as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crystalline rock that glowed with energy.
“Don’t let him use that,” cried Sorus, leaping forward into the green shield, and immediately flying backwards as a crackle of energy burst around him. Proteus moved around to one side and he tried to get a flank position as the snake creature began to utter a spell of some sorts. This ended when Whitebone’s sword cut off his head. The body fell to the ground with a thud, while strange greenish fluid began to pour out onto the floor.
“Does that prove the earnestness of my offer,” said Whitebone as he looked back to Jon. “We can work out a deal that is mutually beneficial. I want an alliance with your father against the Queen of the Abyss.”
“Why shouldn’t I just kill you and take the Staff of Sakatha for myself,” said Jon to the creature as his hand twitched, and he poked forward experimentally at the green barrier.
“That is certainly your prerogative,” said Whitebone with a shrug of his shoulders. “If you think you can kill me, then that is clearly your best choice. Do you think you can?”
Jon stood still for a moment, “I’m certain I can,” he said with a smile, “but my father tells me to consider all options before making a decision. What do you offer, Lord Whitebone?”
“No, Jon,” said Sorus, “don’t listen to him. It’s some kind of a trap.”
Proteus continued to skirt around the edge of the circle and get in position to bypass the energy field that blocked them off from the skeletal creature.
“I’d heard you were a stupid oaf,” said Whitebone to Jon with a nod of his head. “A boy incapable of thinking on his own, but perhaps the rumors were unfounded. You seem quite reasonable.”
Jon nodded his head, “Make your offer, Lord Whitebone.”
The skeleton moved a hand to its chin and apparently did not notice as Proteus sidled another step closer, “The Staff of Sakatha is a relic from the Old Empire. The reptile men of Darag’dal are degenerate dragon children, their blood thinned over the generations, but they hope to raise a great hero from that bygone era, Sakatha the Great.”
“Go on,” said Jon careful not to look at Proteus, who edged closer in small motions and now stood only twenty feet from the bone lord.
“The Lady of the Abyss wants the staff for a similar purpose; she hopes not to raise Great Sakatha but to animate his corpse and make him one of her most powerful minions,” Whitebone said as his red eyes began to blaze with fire. “I want neither of these things, and if your father takes the staff out of circulation or even destroys it I will be quite pleased.”
Jon nodded his head, “Are you not a servant of She of the Undeath? You certainly have the countenance of the dead,” he said as his eyes glanced once towards Proteus who now stood no more than three steps from the undead lord.
“I am subject to her will, yes,” said Whitebone, “but she and I have different agendas. Have you heard the name Shinamar?” he said with a tilt of his head.
Jon shook his head, “No, should I?”
“No,” said Lord Whitebone, “and I am not in such an expansive mood as to illuminate you to his role in all of this. All I need is a child of the dragon to tell me where the thing is located; you help me find it, and then we turn it over to your father. That seems reasonable, does it not?”