Montoya Valley, chapter 7

Lenk stopped at another branching in the corridors. Most of the rooms were empty; the others were locked. He grumbled as he pulled on another handle with his left hand. Then the sword literally seemed to jump from his grasp, spinning about on the floor to point back the way he had come, back towards Jack. Lenk scowled at the sword. He wasn't happy with himself for leaving, but the man was obviously a criminal. And responsible for all the problems Lenk had gone through.
He picked up the sword and, holding it tightly, took another step away from Jack. No coincidence, the sword jumped from his grip again. The goblin scowled, closed his eyes, and started walking away without the sword. His foot banged into something hard, and he opened his eyes.
The sword was there, under his foot, with the flame etchings on the blade seemed to shimmer and move to point back the way he had come. He looked behind him, but there were not two swords, just the same one he had dropped, now several feet further down the hallway, almost under his feet. The goblin stood there for several moments, until he heard a terrible crash, back from the direction he had encountered Jack. Without pausing to think, he scooped up the sword, and ran off down the hall.
He dodged down two turns, then almost lost the sword when it pointed a different direction than he was heading. Lenk changed course, grabbing the corner of the wall to turn faster. He saw the broken crossbow bolt on the floor, and the wide open door that Jack had obviously gone inside. Another crash echoed from inside, and Lenk bounced off the doorsill, unprepared for what he encountered.
Jack was crawling backwards, pursued by the now-animate statue. He was using what remained of the lock box as a shield, but it helped him little. The star topaz was still clutched in his hand, but the sash lay forgotten, next to the other chests. Lenk swung at the statue, but the sword just bounced off the hard marble, leaving no mark on either. Jack changed direction, rolling sideways towards the glass cases as the golem stomped down, leaving a foot-size impression in the hard stone floor.
Oh well, thought Lenk. I suppose this is the end of it all. I'm going to die here, crushed by a magical statue, protecting the man who ruined my life. Then, almost without warning, the sword burst into flame. Bright blue flames, almost white bright close to the blade, and Lenk tried swinging again at the statue. The flames didn't seem to give off any heat, but the goblin didn't have time to realize it at the moment.
The sword cut into the stone this time, digging out a chunk of the statue's leg. It wobbled for a moment with the impact, and seemed to finally notice Lenk. Jack had already crawled halfway out the door, the topaz still clutched forgotten in his hand. The statue swiped at Lenk with his arm, and the goblin dropped out of the way, cutting into the statue's ankle. Two more slashes, awkward from the floor, but Lenk managed to cut off the foot of the statue clean off.
The statue tried to step forward, but overbalanced. With an even louder crash, it fell to the floor, hands grasping after the elusive goblin. Without waiting to see what would happen, Lenk dashed from the room, as the flames from the sword mysteriously went out.
Jack had managed to get to his feet, and was hopping down the hallway, away from the stairs. The voiced of guards and servants could be heard, as the heavy axe of one cut into the fortified door. Lenk came up on Jack's bad side, and they managed to escape into the wandering tunnels. Almost an hour later, after numerous backtracks, they managed to find a different tunnel. After a certain distance, the civilized look faded away, replaced by dirt walls with creeping roots.
Lenk's night vision was their only guard, since Jack's small lantern had been left behind near the door to the treasure room.
They moved slowly up the tunnel, Jack breathing raggedly. The wound in his leg had reopened, and he simply wasn't used to the hard work of thieving anymore. Lenk was tired as well, from running away from guards, swimming through the lake of sewage beneath the privy, and being Jack's crutch all through the underground tunnels. When they reached the end of the tunnel, a small cave, they both dropped onto the ground tiredly.
Jack panted, trying to slow his breathing. Outside the cave, the sky was just starting to brighten with the dawn. He gulped down air, then managed to roll over onto his side to face Lenk. "Why .. why did you come back for me?" As Lenk gazed blankly at him, Jack tried to explain. "I mean, you could have run, and gotten out with no trouble to yourself. The guards would have found my flat body and nothing would have happened to you."
Lenk shook his head tiredly, and looked at the strange blade. Somehow, the sword made the dank cave seem out of place. "I had no choice," he said simply. He knew Jack was watching, waiting for something else, but he stayed silent.
Jack shook his head. "You could have left me there. You probably should have."
"I had no choice!!" Lenk's shout echoed oddly in the cave, and he grabbed the sword. Again, the blue flames burst from the blade, and he brought the point towards Jack. The thief shrank back against a rock, but the flames at the tip, nearest him, died low. "I had no choice, Jack. You're a thief, and without you my life wouldn't have been destroyed. But I couldn't leave you back there."
The flames lit up Lenk's face, and it took Jack several moments to realize why the view looked similar. Back in El Marid, he had once witnessed one of the street dealers, an apothecary who specialized in strange herbs and drinks, being nabbed by a paladin. Apparently, several people had died from the apothecary's wares, and the paladin had come to put the man out of business, permanently. Jack realized that he must look a lot like the poor apothecary right now, and his voice cracked. "You're a paladin," he whispered, and Lenk almost flinched.
But the sword swung away, the flames died, and Lenk dropped to the floor again. "A goblin paladin? Don't be ridiculous. Just because a sword can cause flames doesn't mean I'm a paladin."
Jack shook his head. "No. I've seen paladins before. I don't know how, or why, but you're a paladin. And I sure wish I knew why you had to save me down there."
Lenk just shook his head, gazing blankly out of the cave. His head drooped, and he caught sight of the edge of his brand. With almost a certain detachment, he picked up the sword again. The flames burst forth, as he held it up against the brand. Slowly, the blue flames seemed to eat away the brand, leaving a patch of pale, green, healing skin.

Caine jerked awake from his hidden spot in the forest. The brand link to the goblin was suddenly broken. He didn't know why or how, but he knew what had caused it, and it meant only trouble for him.
Honor's fire, the blue flames of a paladin sword. Since no one had entered the valley in several days, and certainly no paladins, that could only mean that someone had found Pureflame, despite the hiding spot he had placed it. He scowled, thinking over his options.
He probably could defeat a new paladin, one who had just discovered the sword by chance. But then, why had they simply destroyed the brand, rather than killing the goblin scout? There was no way that Flynn was capable of handling such a task, even with several zombies to help him. A ghoul's body was easily set aflame, and Caine had no wish to try and replace Flynn. It was only an accident that the ghoul had retained most of his mind when the ritual took his life from him.
His scowl deepened. It seemed like his only option was to rely again on that magi, the ancient wanderer. The mage who had accidentally trapped his soul in a gemstone. Caine wasn't happy about it. But then, reconquering a country from your brother was rarely a happy business.

Gerard and Irini strode down the cellar hallway, looking every inch like powerful rulers. Gerard wore a silver circlet, simple and unadorned, and a fine sword at his side. The air around him seemed to radiate confidence and an unwavering will. Irini walked behind him, seeming more to glide across the stone floor, invisible feelers of magic reaching past them, through the walls and around corners. A dozen guards followed them, pikes held ready and short swords at their sides.
Gerard noted the broken crossbow bolt on the floor, the open door, and the sounds of the golem trying to crawl across the floor into the hallway. He gave a brief nod to Irini, and she whispered a word of magic, putting the golem back into the stasis. Both of them realized which box had been opened, as they saw the sash of gems laying on the floor, some of them spilled out onto the cracked stone floor.
"Charmain!" The short woman came hurrying up from behind the guards, as Gerard's voice echoed down the hallway. "Take two servants, who you trust not to steal, and get this room cleared up. Find out what's missing, and just how irreplaceable it is." She nodded, and headed back towards the stairs.
He gave orders swiftly, as Irini prowled the room, magically searching for traces of who the thieves were. The soldiers split up among the passageways nearest, groups of three starting a search. More guards were called for, and torches and lanterns, and slowly a living chain started through the abandoned halls.
Irini looked up, and waved her brother over. "This is most strange, Gerard! I can tell you who I think the thieves were, but .. " She shook her head, looking very confused. "I think one of them was Jack, that tinker who came here from El Marid. It was definitely a man, around thirty-five summers old. The other was the goblin scout, Lenk. I can feel the magical traces of his brand here."
Gerard frowned slightly. "Well, that gives us something to look for, anyway. We know Lenk went missing, and it's possible that a hole opened from the privy to these old cellars. But what has you looking so confused?"
Irini took a deep breath. "I don't think you're going to believe this. But whoever cut up the golem, either Lenk or the man, was a paladin. That foot was carved off with honor flames, from a paladin sword. It might take me a month to fix the damage, if I abandon all my other works."
"A paladin sword? But that's impossible! No paladins have visited Montoya valley for over ten years. How -- " Gerard stopped speaking for a moment, as realization dawned. "Pureflame. One of those two must have found Pureflame. It was a paladin sword, around this valley almost a hundred years ago," he answered his sister's questioning look. "But it vanished, along with the paladin who used it, and never reappeared again.
"Irini, I don't know what scares me more, the thought that someone managed to get down here and break into the treasure room, or the thought that our former goblin spy might be a paladin." Irini nodded solemnly.

The next morning, Gerard and Irini sat in the dining room of the castle, eating solemnly. Cirra was spending much of her time at the healer's, starting the young boy Marco on magical lessons. Kiwin and Canaan were still in their guest rooms, waiting for more discussion with Gerard about the events last night, at the tavern. Caine's attack had killed three, injured several more, and left the entire town suspicious and paranoid. That no one had seen Caine or Flynn, the ghoul, coming into the village did not help matters.
He sighed, and started to rest his head in his hands, when the door opened. Charmain stepped in, and curtsied. "Milord Duke, we have finished the inventory of the treasure room. Only one thing was missing, a gem from the sash, dropped on the floor. It was the blue star topaz, the one that your mother always liked so much." Gerard flinched, and nodded. "It will take us several days to clean up the destruction caused by the ... magical guard, milord." Gerard nodded, and waved his hand in dismissal. Charmain curtsied again, and backed out the door.
"Gerard, of all the treasures that might have gone missing, that was the worst." He looked up at his sister, looking puzzled. "I don't think you ever talked as much with Grandfather as I did, but he took me down one day to the treasury to show me that stone. It was," she paused for a moment, thinking through her words. "The stone isn't a normal stone. Grandfather said that a mage from long ago had turned his body into the stone, leaving his spirit free to wander. He wasn't an evil mage, but he wasn't good either, and he controlled magic much different than anything I have heard of.
"If Lenk and the other thief have that stone, and know what to do with it, they could bring that mage back to life. Even as a spirit, he commands greater magical powers than I could match. If he were alive, he would be more powerful still." Gerard scowled, and rested his head in his hands. It seemed like every victory they scored showed him just how outmatched they were.
"Gerard ... it gets worse. Last night, someone tore apart the magical wards of Erana's Peace. I think it was that mage, that once the thieves carried it out of the treasure room, his spirit was free of the constraints that Grandfather put on him. And the best place we would be able to stop Caine was Erana's Peace." The Duke sagged, leaning against the table. "We've not lost yet, brother. I did gain some new spells from what Cirra and I tried the other day, but I need some time to sort them out. That boy, Marco, will be some help, with a little training. And if we can find Lenk and Jack, and retrieve the stone and the paladin sword they have, we'll be fine."
Gerard looked up from the table. "Irini, I don't think we have that much time. Caine's attack last night wasn't a serious attempt to hurt us, it was to discover what weapons we had at our disposal. Now he knows what our strengths are." He sighed, and shook his head. "What were the exact words of the curse on our family, Irini?"
"Are you sure you want to hear it?" He nodded. "Well. 'The day will come when the dead rise against you, the shadows come to life, and your protectors rebel against you. Without the flames of the fallen, your family will die forever.' Like most prophecies, I don't think it will make sense until after everything is over, one way or another."
Gerard nodded, and rose. "I'd better have my talk with Kiwin and Canaan. But first, we'd better start someone looking for Lenk, and the sword and that gem." He leaned over, and kissed his sister's cheek, then walked out of the room.
Irini sat at the table for several moments, before whispering to herself. " 'The daughter of the line shall be my sacrifice, to serve the dead forever in their halls.' "

Diego and Romero hurried from the barracks, in full battle gear. The Scout captain hadn't told them anything, just to hurry to the library in the castle right away. Diego led them through the hallways, not quite running, and they stopped right in front of the door to catch their breath. They went inside, where Gerard was sitting at the table. "Come in, scouts. I have a job for you."
Diego and Romero walked in, and stood at attention before the Duke. "Your captain probably hinted at something earlier, but things have changed. I need you two scouts to track down two thieves. One of them is the goblin, Lenk," he nodded towards Diego, "who escaped from the castle yesterday. The other is a human male, we believe he is the tinker, Jack. The two of them have stolen a magical gemstone from the treasury, and a paladin sword as well.
"When you find them, tell them I won't punish them for the theft. If you can't persuade them to return with you," he took a deep breath, "kill them both. But at all costs, bring back that stone and the sword." Gerard looked the two of them over for a moment. "Do you have any questions?"
The scouts looked at each other for a moment, then Romero nodded. "Sir Duke, what does this stone look like? And what can you tell us about the sword?"
"The stone is about the size of your thumb, a light blue topaz, with a white star in the center of the gem. Irini tells me it was used by a powerful mage from long ago, and if Caine gets ahold of it, then his powers will be enhanced. The paladin sword is called Pureflame. I don't know much about what it looks like, except that nothing normal will ever dull the blade." He looked the two of them over again. "Anything else?" They both shook their heads. "Very well. Charmain is downstairs, in the kitchen. She will outfit you with healing potions, some trail rations, and show you where the thieves escaped from. Dismissed."
The scouts quickly turned, and left the library. Irini stepped out from behind one of the bookshelves, and sat down across from her brother. "Do you have to send them off like this?"
He gave his sister an odd look. "They are the best we have, Irini. Diego is certainly the best fighter among the Scouts, and the men joke that Romero can track a falcon through the clouds. We need that gemstone back, and they are the only ones with a hope of returning it."
"I know that, Gerard, but," she sighed, "I still wish there was another way." They sat in silence for several moments, Irini staring at the table. "I'd better get up to my tower room. I need to sort through the spells I absorbed, and try to prepare for anything else that might happen." Gerard nodded, and she left the room.

The hammer fell, again and again, and the piece of hard iron bent into a U shape. Higgins hefted it on the tongs, and grunted. It was a good horseshoe, he thought. With a practiced toss, the hammer landed on a set of hooks, while he walked over to a barrel of water and doused the heat. He pulled it out several moments later, and hung it on a short rod with several others. Working the anvil was a great way to relieve his frustration, he thought.
Higgins looked thoughtfully at his axe, leaning against a wall of his smithy. Killing goblins was a great way to relieve frustration, too. Higgins still wasn't sure what to do about the bard, Kiwin. Sure, the man had helped out Marco, and helped destroy the Night Gaunts that Caine summoned. But on the other hand, nothing truly bad had happened until after the bard arrived in the valley. He picked up the axe, strapped it onto his belt, and closed the door behind him.
Higgins nodded and waved greetings to all the people he saw, as he headed out of the village. Some of the stronger men had started expanding and connecting the stone walls separating the farms, putting sharpened wooden stakes at the top. He'd have to make some good iron ones later, the dwarf thought as he walked out into the forest. Five minutes later, the trees blocked all sight and sound of the town from his sight.
He walked along, still trying to work out things in his head. Now that Jack had suddenly vanished, Higgins didn't have very many people to sit down and talk things over with. Jack would have a better idea of what was going on. The tinker usually knew more than he let on.
Caine watched silently, moving parallel to the dwarf, watching and waiting. It had taken him several days to get the dwarf back out into the forest, in a place where Caine had set his magical traps. Higgins suddenly stopped, muttering curses in some dwarven language, and scrubbing at his face with his hands. "Damn spiders! Can' ye let a nice dwarf like me walk aroun' out here an' not get hisself all cover in webs?" He spat twice, and shook his hands, still trying to get the loose strands free from his fingers.
He spat again, for good measure, and made up his mind. One of those goblins had something to do with the problems, that goblin with the brand. He was going to find that goblin, by stone, and bring it or its head back to the castle for the Duke! No goblin had ever gotten the better of Higgins and his axe, and they never would!
Caine smiled, as the dwarf stormed off, axe in hands. Everything was going perfectly. Except for that mage ... something was different. Caine knew about the magical stone of course, his grandfather had told him much about it, before he was exiled. As long as the stone was in the armory, the mage's spirit was bound to him. He was sure that his grandfather had never noticed the small chance to the binding spells on the armory. And either way, his grandfather was long dead, and could not interfere.
He smiled evilly. Caine wondered, just what his nephew Gerard would do, when faced with the zombies of his father and grandfather. He looked up at the sun, and started back towards the graveyard. Preparations must be made before nightfall.

Diego and Romero looked around the little cave, two guards behind them. "This is the only way out of the cellars, without using magic. We know one of them was injured, and you can see the dried blood over there, so we know they came through here." Romero nodded, looking around the cave for other signs of where they might have gone. Both of them had a backpack, loaded with almost a week of dried food, and both had extra daggers on their belts. Romero's shield sported a large spike in the center.
Diego moved to the front of the cave, and looked around outside. "We're west of the castle, and a little bit north. They probably headed for the north pass, to try and catch a road towards Fince, or southwest towards the roads for El Marid." Romero nodded, and joined him at the cave mouth. The two guards looked at each other, shrugged, and headed back towards the temporary guard station further into the cellars.
Romero studied the grass and the dirt. "They only left a few hours ago. I'd bet they went southwest, but unless Jack started bleeding some more, they'll be hard to track." Diego nodded, and climbed up to the top of the small hill. "You keep a watch for goblins and orcs, and I'll try and pick up their trail. Twenty paces distance sound good?" Diego nodded absently, and scanned the trees.
"Romero, handful of orcs, north and east. I'd say probably, forty paces away. They know we're here. Ready for a fight?" The scout looked up at his friend, and scowled.
Diego lay down in the grass, watching carefully, staying still with practiced ease. Romero stayed down below, pretending to be absorbed in searching for nonexistent tracks. The four orcs paused at the edge of the trees for a moment, then rushed out in a group. Romero's thrown dagger stopped the first one dead, and the second one tripped over it. A large stone came flying down from the hill, catching the third in the stomach. Diego leaped down from the hill, sword flashing feint-feint-slash, and the breathless orc fell backwards, bone showing briefly on its leg. Romero's other dagger had found a mark in the fallen orc, and several seconds of twirling swords later, the fourth orc fell.
Diego laughed, looking at the fallen orcs. "I must be slipping, Romero. Only one orc for me!" His friend joined him in the chuckle, before they picked up the daggers, what small loot the orcs had, and started off again. From back inside the cave, the two guards skidded to a stop, looking out at the carnage. They looked at each other, shook their heads, and started back again towards the guard station.

The sun started to dip below the horizon, and Jack leaned heavily against a tree. Even with Lenk's help, he wasn't able to walk very fast, due to his injured leg. One group of goblins had tried to attack them, but after Jack's flying daggers killed two, and Lenk's sword lit up with flames, the rest fled. They had been heading mostly west, trying to reach a cave that Lenk knew of.
"Are you sure you can't do anything to help me?" Jack panted heavily, and reached down to tighten the makeshift bandage. "I mean, doesn't the sword tell you what to do?"
Lenk scowled at the thief, scanning the forest for a safe place to bed down for the night. "No, it doesn't tell me anything. I'm still not entirely sure how to make the flames appear, let alone try to heal anyone! If I knew how to heal you, I would have done it a long time ago!" He stopped, lowering his voice again. "What possessed you to try and rob the treasury now, of all times? If I hadn't been there, you would have died."
"Yeah, I know. I figured, with this being a rather small area, it wouldn't be well guarded. I forgot that most of the family has been magic users. Loki's eyes, I've robbed houses in El Marid with thirty guards, they never knew I was there. But ten years without practice," he chuckled softly, "no wonder I didn't do so well. Why are we going to that cave, anyway? Don't you want to get out of this valley?"
Lenk considered for a moment. "I'm not leaving here until I know whether Caine has won or died. He tried to control me, and when that didn't work, he tried to kill me. I've had about enough of everyone thinking I'm weak and stupid just because I'm a goblin." He glared at the thief. "You have a problem with that?"
"Does it look like I have a choice?" He pointed at the wound in his leg. "That group of goblins would have killed me without you. Or another group, or an orc. Or whatever, I can't make it out of here with my leg like this. Since I can't exactly walk back into town, and ask Charmain to heal me, we're stuck together for a while." He sighed, and looked around as well. "Sunset already, Lenk. Where are we staying?"
The goblin muttered something under his breath, then started carefully cutting branches off a nearby pine tree. With some minor help from Jack, they constructed a rough lean-to, piled up leaves, and went to sleep.
The sword, Pureflame, stood a silent watch all night.