Dark Lord Part 5
Dark Lord Part Five
by Greywolf
Email: greywolf@gator.net
False dawn was on the horizon as Viper entered the canyon of the hidden cave. He had watched someone kill Nightblade from his earlier perch high up on the facing ridge. Now he was riding, cocked crossbow in hand, into the canyon below the cave entrance. He knew that Nightblade's slayer was making his or her way down the cliff face on horseback. He soon reached the area that he was seeking, a position where he could shoot the descending figure with his crossbow. The rain was only a trickle now but it made enough noise to mask his hoof-beats. The rising fog did much to conceal his position but it concealed his quarry as well.
Reigning in his horse, he listened intently for a few minutes; the assassin could just make out the sounds of the moving quarry but it was tough. In the waxing light before dawn he made out his target. Carefully drawing a bead on his quarry, he loosed a bolt toward the figure on horseback. He was rewarded with the sound of cursing, as the figure fell from it's mount. The voice had been definitely male. He carefully reloaded his crossbow, and dismounted from his own horse. Carefully, he picked his way slowly up the slope.
*********
Greywolf struggled to free his sword from it's scabbard. He knew that whomever had just shot him would be arriving soon to finish the job. He looked down at the bolt protruding painfully from his chest, and realized that it was precariously close to his heart. The wound was bleeding quite freely. He wondered how long he had to live.
Then he heard the footsteps on the gravel below him. Crawling to the edge of the trail he peered down the winding path. There he saw the figure in black…. the fourth assassin, walking up the twisted trail toward him… a cocked crossbow in hand. With sword drawn, useless against such a weapon, Greywolf could do nothing but wait. When the figure was about twenty feet away from Greywolf, he stopped and chuckled.
"Well Elf, it seems that you have lost and I have won. I am sure that Falgar shall pay handsomely for a head as trick-filled as yours. Twill be a shame to kill such talent… especially since you are so helpless. It is a good thing for me that I have no honor". The assassin lifted the crossbow to his eyes and took slow and deliberate aim. Greywolf gritted his teeth from the pain of his wound, and in preparation of the pain that was soon to come. So this is the way it ends he thought. Not in glorious battle but lying on his back helpless, with a crossbow bolt in his chest. He cursed his helplessness, he cursed Falgar, and he cursed the approaching assassin. The latter he did aloud. The dark man known simply as Viper merely laughed.
Greywolf looked into the dark eyes of the dark killer and thought back on his life; he had few regrets but the thing that bothered him the most was that he would never see his daughter grow up or get the chance to patch things up with Lofty, the child's mother. He was caught before he became totally melancholic by the most beautiful sight he had seen in a long time. Behind the assassin, swooping down majestically from the cliff heights, flew a great winged horse… snow white in color, flying with only the sound of the wind…. Moonshadow!
The great Pegasus veered in low over the head of the hired death dealer and kicked the man right square in the face. The assassin fired his crossbow as he fell backwards, causing the bolt to strike the rocks a few feet above Greywolf's position. The Wolf that is Grey rolled to the side cursing to many gods about the painful wound in his chest. Crawling forward Greywolf reached the downed man just as he was recovering from the flying mount's kick. Before he could rise to his feet Greywolf was upon him, hands around the man's throat, steadily squeezing with all of his strength.
"So it seems assassin…. that you will not get your blood money for me…" he said, as evenly as he could muster. He looked deep into the man's eyes seeing the surprise, and now mounting panic that the man was beginning to experience. Still looking at the man's eyes the wolf said "Give my greetings and salutations to your Gods assassin". As the killer's eyes began to glaze he added "Or should I say 'Demons'?" Greywolf continued to stare into the man's eyes until he was quite dead. Then he slowly and painfully struggled to his feet.
Moonshadow landed deftly on the trail next to the dead man. Greywolf stumbled over and hugged the great beast. "It is good to see you old friend. And as usual your timing is impeccable. I was beginning to think that I might soon be releasing you from your bond of service much against my will".
The sweet voice that belonged to Moonshadow played through his head. " I came as soon as I could. You are hurt".
"Tis but a scratch…. I…. am fine.." the Wolf that is Grey answered.
"You lie friend Wolf, as usual when it comes to assessing your wounds. Can you climb up on my back? I shall spirit you away to Elowyn Ka for only she has the power great enough to heal your wounds", came the thought.
Painfully… and taking a bit of a time to do so… Greywolf managed to get on the great Pegasus's back. With ease and grace, Moonshadow stepped off of the path walking into space, flapped his wings and flew south.
Winging over the mountains they watched the birth of the sun together. Soaring ever higher Greywolf noted how the world curved off in all directions, proving, in his mind that the world was indeed round, not flat, like the humans believed. He always marveled at the beauty of the world at this altitude. Not that the world was not a beautiful place at ground level, it was just that up here there was no misery and nastiness that humans tend to foster. Up here all of that nastiness seemed most insignificant.
On they soared across the mountains, through the obscuring, forgetful mists and in to Tir-na-nog, the legendary Land of Eternal Youth, the Celtic Land of Promise, the traditional home of the Faye. There the land rolled out in a hue of majestic green with smooth faced hills and deep eldritch forests. Greywolf was fading in and out of consciousness from loss of blood but he managed a weak grin as they winged over the Sylvan Elf Lands. Traveling onward Moonshadow flew lower searching for a particular encampment, the camp of Elowyn Ka. On they flew until morning became afternoon, when at last the camp came into view. Spiraling down so as not to lose his rider, who by now was quite incapable of holding on very tight, Rider and Pegasus landed on the outskirts of the camp.
"Moonshadow.....old friend....", Greywolf choked, "You must fly directly...to....to...Selenor. Fetch Demon Slayer from our good friend Abacus for he has it in safe keeping. You still speak to his mount.....comet, do you not?"
"Yes, we still speak", replied the voice in his head.
"Good. Then tell Comet to tell Abacus to give you the sword. Tell him also to.....to prepare for an invasion. Tell him that I will be there as soon as I am healed.....I...."
"Stop speaking, Wolf...you are very weak, and near death. I shall fetch the mighty sword of your sires, and bring it back post-haste. Then we shall fly."
"Do what you must for time is of the essence", Greywolf grunted as his feet hit the ground. Staggering like he was much in his cups, he shakily walked toward the camp, more of a corpse than a living Elf, as Moonshadow winged up and off, soaring toward the northwest. Greywolf turned for a moment to watch the flight of his bonded steed and thanked several Gods and Goddesses that he hadn't prayed to for some time. Turning back, he staggered towards the encampment that surrounded the famous Dragon and Salamander Inn.
*********
Falgar, the new Dark Lord, looked up from the red earthen scrying bowl filled with blood. He had been gazing at it for some time while his aides had been erecting his new tent. His chief human aide Barabacus approached him and fell quickly to his knees, groveling at the Dark Lord's feet.
"Oh do get up Barabacus. You are my aide not a boot-licking lap dog", Falgar ordered.
The man rose to his feet, "Yes, master. Your new quarters are ready my Lord. Would you care to move inside them at this time?".
"Yes my dear Barabacus, yes. It seems that my fine old friend Greywolf has bested those hired thugs that you drug up. A pity..."
Barabacus looked nervous. "They were the best hit men in camp master. The Elf-scum is lucky. Or maybe bewitched!" he chirped.
"No…" Falgar chided. "He is just damn good…. A worthy foe in all meanings of the word…. Not lucky. He makes his luck. And he rarely uses magic although he is quite capable of doing so. No… he simply beat them". Falgar rose from his stool. "Has there been any word from the Yarian Masters that I sent for?"
"Oh yes Master, they arrived a short time ago. I thought perhaps that it would be best for you to greet them from your new quarters instead of outside like a common soldier", he whined. "Shall I fetch them to your new tent?".
"By all means Barabacus, by all means. And do fetch my whip so that I might punish you for thinking, and for picking such incompetent pigs to do my bidding. I am very put out about the fact that Greywolf has escaped", the Dark Lord finished.
"Yes Master", Barabacus was nearly in tears as he scurried away.
Falgar walked in to his new tent. A hastily set up map table lay in the center of the first chamber, maps in a clutter on it's surface. Ah…. Yar, he thought. Lovely little country. No Crops.. no Industry, no visible means of economy. But the country was rich and well known for one commodity…. Death. Wholesale or retail. For the finest hired killers in the world were bred and trained in Yar. Assassins renown for their intimate knowledge of poisons and grand expertise in the use of a little known weapon the blowpipe. A blowpipe was a hollow tube that when blown into propelled a small poison laced dart up to about thirty yards, with extreme accuracy. Silent Death. Falgar liked that.
His joyous thoughts were interrupted by a silent procession of ten figures carrying long black tubes on their backs, and wearing the national color of Yar; black. They bowed their heads in unison to salute their new employer. Clearing his throat Falgar began.
"Good day gentlemen. I trust your journey was uneventful and pleasant? Are we ready to get down to business? Good....then let us begin.."
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To the First Part of Dark Lord
To the Second Part of Dark Lord
To the Third Part of Dark Lord
To the Fourth Part of Dark Lord
