Possessing the Grimstone

chapter Thirteen


The Neshing mages gathered together and lumbered toward the barrier around Cardoon. They rattled the bones around their necks, clicked their claws, and snarled in their guttural language.

Drums picked up behind them, pounding louder and louder.

A green aura surrounded the mages. They raised claws and staffs in union, and pointed to Sooth-Malesh’s barrier.

A hail of green-yellow fireballs shot at the barrier with the force of a volcano. The wave of magical fire finally tore through the protective wall, penetrating it at last.

An explosion rocked the land, shaking the city to its very foundations. The entire barrier collapsed and vanished in spark of light.

A static charge brushed through the air.

Sooth-Malesh rushed to the top of the rampart and watched as the Neshing armies advanced on the city. Farms burned and fell, and houses were destroyed in the path of the monstrous scourge.

The reptilian riders led the charge, galloping across fields, oblitering everything in their path. Behind them, the foot soldiers stomped their way, cutting down anything or anyone nearby. Hundreds of mages were mixed into the thick of them.

They drove their war machines across the battleground with their lizard steeds, spiked boulders already loaded into them.

Sooth-Malesh felt his heart drop into his stomach. He took a deep breath, and turned to the couryard below. “We are under attack!” he cried. The bells in the spires rang out, warning the city. He ran across the parapet to the top of a flight of stairs, and looked down.

“Archers to the wall!” he cried.

Hundreds of Cardoon soldiers armed with crossbows rushed up the stairs and to the top of the wall. Sooth-Malesh joined their ranks. His eyes flared at the thousands of monsters rushing toward them. He curled his fists as blue energy whirled around them.

A volley of crossbow quarrels launched from the wall and downed hundreds of riders and their reptilian steeds. More simply took their place.

A spiked boulder soared across the sky toward the city walls. Sooth-Malesh stretched out his arms, and the boulder froze in mid-air. He gestured again, and the boulder flung backwards, hitting one of the Neshing catapults and shattering it to splinters.

Four green fireballs screamed at Sooth-Malesh. He threw up an invisible wall at the last moment, saving himself and a dozen men around him. Others were not so lucky: men exploded into ashes to his left and right as the dark magic invaded Cardoon.

Flaming spears sailed over the wall, felling men and setting thatched roofs ablaze. A boulder struck the east wall, crumbling the top of it. Soldiers fell screaming to their deaths.

Rubble spilled into the courtyard below, where Northen men cowered. Olani stood atop the nearest fountain and addressed her people. Their faces were masks of terror filled with uncertainty and despair. The council whispered; she knew they spoke of her lack of leadership and experience.

“Do not give up,” Olani cried. “This is our stand against them! This is our final chance to show that we won’t go down without a fight! You are strong and brave. Everyone is afraid, every one of us, but we must fight! We must not go quietly! Damn them for choosing to attack us, for trying to take our homes and destroy our families! You may have lost your land and your city, but you have not lost your souls! You have not lost your spirit!”

She saw their faces shift. Their eyes filled with a burning anger. She knew they’d heard her. Olani took up the crossbow at her feet.

“To the wall,” She yelled, “To the wall!”

The Northern men cheered and rushed the parapet. Olani led the charge. They reached the top of the city walls and hurled lances down on the Neshing. Olani stood beside Sooth-Malesh and fired her crossbow.

Not to be outdone, Drith’s twin brother, Gyrn, led the Southern warriors to the walls. The painted warriors climbed up one side and scampered down the other, descending into the battlefield and meeting the Neshing head on.

In the rear, the teleporters of Gywthroth appeared out of the fog of war, armed with their garrots.

Sooth-Malesh whirled his hands and took aim again, but a blast of energy pushed him off his feet. He rolled down the stone steps, singed.

“Crimson mage!” Olani rushed to his side. She took his arm. “You cannot fall.”

“They are too strong,” he croaked. “I am not strong enough… they will take us.”

“They’ve not won yet, my friend. After all they’ve been through, my people fight on. You will, too!” She pulled him up, and the two returned to the final battle for Athora.

###

Pim soaked in the wonder that was Fionngall. A city built into the side of the seacliffs, it sported multi-level buildings with canopy-covered balconies and decks. Ropes and lines drew from one deck to another: some were draped with fine linens and clothes, and others dryied scores of fish in the salty air.

The group passed a huge bazaar with many vendors. It was crowded with people bartering for sea shells, hunting tools, exotic fruits and vegetables, and all types of smoked fish and meats.

Hagglers and barkers called to the new strangers. Shannara eyed many glittery stones and jewelry. Tolan saw curved blades, harpoons, dipped arrows, and other twisted weapons that called to his knightly heart. Pim stared at all the food, both hot and cold. He felt his mouth watering.

Women with veils danced in the sand, waving scarves in front of the group. Flutes and drums carried on the air; there were musicians both on the beach and the docks.

They watched ships drift lazily in and out of the port city, transferring goods to and from Fionngall. Huge ships with bright sails were manned with massive crews; muscled men with worn hands and strong sea legs constantly moved on the decks, hoisting and rowing with determination.

The city was a fine-tuned machine. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing seemed accidental, yet it seemed too perfect. Underneath it all, Tolan sensed mystery and unspoken concerns.

“All of my people’s food and goods come from this place,” Drith said. “Fionngall trades with Norrow, across the sea.”

“Norrow is our destination,” Tolan said. “But we cannot reach it without a ship. We will need to ask for one.”

“That should go well,” Shannara said. “Buy a ship without any coins.”

“We cannot buy it,” Tolan said. “We will need to borrow it and bring it back later. First, we must meet with the leaders of this city.” Tolan stopped a merchant who tried to sell them hatchets and fishhooks. “Good sir, who rules your fine city?”

He grinned up at them. Two of his teeth were made of silver. “Fionngall has no leader. It is taken care of by the Custodian.”

“Custodian?” Shannara asked, bewildered.

“Yes, my beauty. Custodian Charris takes care of us all.”

“Where may we find him?” Tolan asked.

“Only one place.” The merchant pointed up the face of the cliffs. “The sea castle of Fionngall.”

Tolan tipped his helmet. “We thank you for your help.”

They moved down the beach, watching the merchants and performers, including jugglers, magicians, and the ones Pim found most interesting: fire eaters.

Each of the buildings on the cliffs had stairways that curled up to the rooftops. They climbed one until they reached the top. There, they set eyes on a grand castle with towers and a massive gate.

Pim turned round to see the Baltha Sea stretching to the end of the world, meeting the blue sky in the distance. The wind whipped his golden curls, and the salt tickled his nose.

Before he knew it, they stood at the gatehouse to the castle. A guard stood inside.

“We seek an audience with Custodian Charris,” Tolan spoke.

“From where do you hail?”

“I am Tolan of the High Guard in Cardoon. With me are Drith of Glengorrah, Pim of Gonnish, Shannara of the D’Elkyrie, and our guardians.”

“Well met. State your business.”

“We are here under grave matters. Danger comes to all of Athora, and we seek your city’s help. There is no time to waste: a great scourge has come to claim us all.”

“From the east?”

“You have heard?”

“We thought it was only rumor among the caravans. I will send word to Charris.”

After some time, massive, rusted chains lowered the gates, and the group was shown inside.

A tall, thin man with a salt and pepper hair and beard, dressed in a long formal sheath and robe met them in a grand foyer of polished marble. It was decorated with chandliers of seashells and brass.

“Strange travelers… I see you have come a long way.” His hands were open and his smile was an honest one. A quartest of guards flanked him.

Tolan extended his hand. “Custodian Charris?”

“Yes, indeed.” Charris took Tolan’s hand in both of his own. Tolan noted how warm they were.

“Pleased to meet you, sire. We come with great haste and need.”

Chariss interrupted Tolan. “Come, let us talk of it over lunch. I was just about to sit down.”

“Sire, we have no time to waste. We…”

“I insist!” Charris immediately turned away from the group and went down a tapestry-lined hallway.

Tolan shrugged to the others and followed Charris and his men. The others followed Tolan.

###

Custodian Charris hosted the group at a long banquet table. The seers sat together beside Shannara; Drith sat across from Tolan and Pim, and the D’Elkyrie warriors sat at the end of the table.

Charris shared wine, fruit, bread, and cheese with the group. “Please, try some of the cheese. It’s made with goat’s milk from Norrow.”

“Goats?” Pim said. “They have goats?” He tried the cheese. It was unlike anything he’d ever tasted.

“Of course they do,” Charris laughed. “They have many things. We are blessed to have such people across the sea. So, what grave matter brings you to Fionngall? I see that you have come a long way. King of the South, I would know you anywhere. Queen of the D’Elkyrie, it must truly be dire, if your people have come down from the M’Illium Fells.”

“Aye, more than you know,” replied Shannara. “A savage enemy without mercy has sailed through the mists of the Fifling Sea, and attacks all kingdoms in Athora.”

“The mists…? The wall of mist that no ship could sail through?”

“The very one,” Tolan said. “They have a powerful weapon on their side, aiding them in their conquest. They will not stop until they have destroyed us all. The North has already fallen, as has Gonnish. The Neshing are at the gates of Cardoon as we speak.”

“I see. We have no army. What assistance do you seek from our city?”

“A ship. We see you have many. We must travel to Norrow to find a weapon of equal power if we’re to fight this new enemy. I am afraid we have no funds to purchase a ship. We ask to borrow one of your ships to aid in saving our world. We will return it on the journey back.”

“You may not have funds, soldier, but you do have something to trade.” Charris smiled.

“I do not understand.”

“You are a soldier of Cardoon, one of the strongest armies in the lands. The D’Elkyrie are among the fiercest warriors around. The King of the South can climb without rope or ladder, and the Wivering can run faster than any creature on four legs.”

“I am afraid you have us at a loss, sire.”

“I will lend you a ship if you help my city with something, first.”

“Name it.”

“Our city is plagued by the Brigands. They come and raid our ports, plunder our ships, kill our people, and steal the precious goods that Norrow trades with us. It is crippling our commerce. My people are growing afraid to sail the seas. If these Brigands of the Western Isles aren’t stopped, many will suffer.”

“Of course. We will run them off after we defeat the Neshing.”

Chariss shook his head. “That will not do. They come nearly every night, now. They will come tonight. Aid us tonight, first, and then we will give you a ship.”

“Custodian Charris, time is fleeting. It will take seven to ten days to reach Norrow from your shores. There is not a moment to spare.”

“I understand your concerns, but that is my offer.”

“The Neshing take no prisoners. Their magic is of the darkest kind. The longer we wait, the more they will destroy, including your city.”

“Exactly—what kind of Custodian would I be if I didn’t take care of my city? Whether these Neshing come or not, my city is in danger now. By the time you return my favor, there may not be a port. What good would your victory be, then? That is my offer, and it is final.”

“This port affects many in Athora,” Drith said to Tolan. “Without it, my people will die. We must not ignore this offer. There is no choice.”

“Very well,” Tolan said. “We will help you tonight.”

“Wonderful,” Charris said. “Please, eat and drink. You will need your strength.”