Montoya Valley, chapter 8

Higgins tripped over a branch, as the sun was just setting over the mountains. He cursed in dwarven, and looked around to figure out where he was. If he headed north, he should run into the trail that caravans usually took to get down to Montoya valley. He looked up at the sliver of setting sun, took his bearings, and started walking again. The edge of his axe had blood dried, from the small group of goblins he had encountered earlier. Higgins would almost suspect they were avoiding him, and that was fine. It meant they feared him, after all, and they should fear a dwarf with an axe in his hands!
He stumbled over another rock, and savagely kicked it out of his way. Two Night Gaunts watched from the shadows ahead of him. At first, they thought he would make a good meal. Then they saw the magical dwarven runes on his axe, and decided to leave him alone. Before they drifted away in the shadows, he drew close enough for them to see the magical haze of a geas hanging over the dwarf, patterned by their Master. No, the dwarf would not make a good meal for them. It was a pity, too; dwarves were so crunchy!

Diego crouched on the ground next to Romero. The tracking hadn't been easy. Goblin footprints were easy to find around the forest, almost too easy. And even though Jack was injured, Lenk had done a good job of disguising their trail. "What should we do now? It's almost sunset. I don't think you want to try tracking them at night, but if we head back for the castle we'll lose time."
"No way I'd be able to track them very well through this," Romero waved his hand at the thick underbrush, "but I don't like the idea of sleeping out here, either. We don't have any magical protection or weapons if Night Gaunts show up."
They stayed for a moment in silence, and the top of the sun dropped below the mountains. "Any idea why they headed almost due west, Romero?"
The other scout shook his head. "I'm guessing that Lenk has some kind of safe hole, or something. It's not a false trail, they haven't had enough time to do that. We can't be more than an -- " Romero cut off as they both heard a branch snap, from somewhere off to the south. Almost without sound, they both moved into defensive positions.
A familiar figure burst through a low bush, axe snapping another branch out of the way. Diego and Romero gave each other an odd look, and Diego stepped out from behind the tree. "Higgins! What are you doing out here?"
The dwarf hefted the axe, then lowered it again. "Eh? A scout! Whatd'ye think ye're doin' out here, blockin' me way, boy?" He started to raise the axe, then lowered it again. "Move yerself out o' me way! Higgins has got a goblin to catch!"
Diego looked towards Romero out of the corner of his eye. "Why are you hunting goblins, Higgins? Shouldn't you be back at the forge?"
Higgins stopped, the axe drooping towards the ground. "Aye, me forge, make some nice iron spikes fer the wall ... " His voice trailed off, and the dwarf stood for a moment in silence. Then he hefted the axe again, and raised his voice. "Nay, Higgins is not takin' hisself back until he's caught the goblin!" He waved the axe, a wild gleam in his eyes.
"Well, Higgins, are you looking for the goblin with the brand on his shoulder?" The dwarf nodded quickly, almost too quickly. Diego again looked out the corner of his eye. "My partner and I are looking for him too. The Duke sent us to find him. Do you want to help us look?"
The dwarf scowled. "Look! I know right the stone cursed goblin is hidin' hisself at, 'e's ..." Higgins trailed off, turning to face west, then back to the north. "He's that way!" The axe swung over, pointing west. "And ye can NOT make me go back still missin' his head!"
Romero had slowly slipped out of the trees, and stepped over next to Diego. "Something's wrong with him. He doesn't recognize either of us. He's normally in the Black Boar, throwing back mugs of ale and insulting the bard." Diego just nodded. "Do you think we can trust him?"
"No. But if he can lead us to Lenk and Jack, we'll use him." He stopped, and picked up a fist size rock. "Be ready to trip him if he tries to charge."
The two scouts gestured for Higgins to take the lead. With the dwarf muttering curses, and swinging the axe around loosely, they started off to the west.

Caine looked around the graveyard. He had barely finished all of his preparations before nightfall. It wasn't easy to set up necromantic pentagrams, spread around a blood sacrifice and all that, when the townspeople were conducting a funeral for the people he had killed at the Inn the other night.
He sighed, and watched the ground break apart as Flynn climbed out of his coffin. As the ghoul watched, Caine raised his arm, and several other zombies started to claw their way free of the surface. Most of the zombies were not in great shape; broken bones, flesh missing, rotting away and falling off in chunks. But they were hard to stop, and that was what counted at the moment. "I have a job for you, Flynn."
The ghoul perched on his headstone, silent and waiting. "A caravan should be camped out for the night, just outside the pass towards El Marid. These zombies," Caine waved his hands towards the dozen or so undead, standing silently, "will follow your orders. But try and remember, they are stupid. So be careful how you use them, when you destroy the caravan. Make sure no one makes it into this valley alive."
The two gazed at each other again, Caine's pale green eyes almost mirroring the unearthly yellow of Flynn's undead orbs. Then the ghoul spread his mouth in a smile, sharpened fangs glittering in the moonlight. He threw back his head in a silent howl, and leaped off the headstone. The zombies, as one, turned to follow him from the graveyard. The night forest quickly swallowed up the dull tramp of their feet, and Caine scowled.
"One problem solved. Gerard won't be getting any magical help from his mother's family. Now I have to figure out what to do about that damned mage!"

Cirra and Marco reined in their horses at the top of the pass. "We're almost there, Marco."
The young boy grimaced, and tried to rub his butt with his free hand. "Are you sure that a mage should know how to ride a horse? I thought they always used flying carpets, or pet dragons, or just appeared where they needed to go."
Cirra smiled, and looked over her shoulder. "A pet dragon? Do you know how hard they are to feed? No, most mages prefer to use normal ways of travel, like horses, so that they can save their magical powers for something more important."
"I guess." He rubbed the horse's neck, and it whinnied softly. "At least she's a nice horse. It just doesn't fit with any tales. Brave warriors always ride off on horses, while the wizards use magic."
"Well Marco, you'll find that most songs are just that -- songs. They don't tell you what truly happened. But we should be almost there. There's a regular campsite, a few miles further down the road where the caravan will stop for the night. If we hurry, we can make it there before the sun sets." She gave the reins a short toss, and her mare started forward again. With another groan, Marco followed her.
The campfire from the caravan came into sight shortly after sunset, and a guard hailed them. "Ho, caravan! I am Lady Cirra, cousin to Duke Gerard Montoya. How has your journey been?"
The caravan master came forward from the other side of the fire. He was tall, strong, and a perfect image of a warrior, in Marco's eyes. "Duke Gerard? Last time I was in the valley, his father was still the Duke! When did this happen?"
"About a week ago. The Duke grew very ill, and no healing helped him. He passed on, and Gerard is now the Duke. He sent me here, to insure that the caravan reaches the castle safely. Goblin and orc tribes have been fleeing south into the valley, and creatures of shadow have attacked guards on their patrols." Cirra swung down from her saddle, and the caravan master bowed over her hand. "This is my apprentice, Marco. He is training with me to be a healer and a mage."
The caravan master grunted. "Well, stars above, we could always use a few mages with some honor and decency. We've got some magical weapons on the caravan, sure, but mostly we're traveling in goods. Spices, silk, raw steel, coming down to trade with the Duke for leather, incense, I'm sure you know the whole deal, Lady." He looked around at the half dozen wagons, then waved them towards the fire. "I'm afraid all we have for supper is a few rabbits and some trail bread, Lady."
Cirra smiled. "Don't worry about it. Marco, fetch our provision bag, would you? We brought some sweet black bread, cheese, and some salted venison." The caravan master laughed, and ordered two of his guards out of the makeshift chairs closest to the fire. "We are quite happy to see your caravan, sir. Not one has come into the valley for almost two months, and our smith was wondering where he would get more materials."
"Ah, don't you worry your head, lady. There's been a bit of a war down around El Marid, see, some group of cutpurses and assassins tried to kill the king and take over themselves. Everyone within a hundred miles is up in arms, and it's not a pretty sight to see." He sighed, and took a drink from his waterskin. "I was on my way through to Fince, myself, and the Duke always treated the merchants right. Sad news, that."
They both nodded, and ate in silence when Marco brought the bag. Around the campsite, guards and workers chatted and laughed in the cool night air. After they finished eating, the caravan master had two of his guards help Cirra and Marco set up a comfortable place to sleep for the night, and most of the caravan settled down to sleep for the night.
Midnight rolled around, and Cirra stirred awake. Something was about ... something evil. She reached over and shook Marco, then lightly punched him in the back. With a yawn, he rolled over. "What is it Cirra?" He rubbed his eyes, and she put a finger over his lips for silence.
"Something is out there, nearby, looking for this caravan. I think it might be some of Caine's monsters. Get up, slowly and carefully; we need to be ready to catch them by surprise." His eyes grew wide in the faint firelight, and he carefully folded back the thick blanket. They both crept underneath the nearby wagon, and looked outward. Cirra whispered a magical word, and she waited for her magical sight to take effect. At first, everything was normal, then a small red haze started to appear from the pass east, back into the valley. "Marco, wake the caravan master, and tell him to put all the guards on alert. Something is coming this way."
The boy crawled out from under the wagon, and dashed across the clearing to another wagon. He carefully lifted the latch, and slipped inside. He shook the caravan master awake quickly. Within minutes, everyone in the caravan was awake, though most were lying still, weapons out and ready, pretending to be asleep. The red haze had grown, and Cirra could make out about a dozen shapes, roughly human in shape. She still couldn't tell who or what they were, except that they were definitely evil.
"Everyone is awake and ready, Cirra." Marco gulped, and she noticed his dagger in his hand. "What do we do now?" From up the trail, the sound of tramping feet was faintly audible.
Cirra looked out again, and her spell faded away. "You remember the three spells I taught you?" Marco nodded. "First, charge up your weapon. Then, have the fire burst spell ready to cast, once we know what's coming." He paused for a moment, then whispered two words, and pricked his finger with the tip of the dagger. For a brief moment, a green lightning bolt glowed on the blade, then faded away. He could feel the captured energy waiting to be released.
The sound of feet grew louder, and they all tensed. When the first zombie appeared over the rise in the trail, several of the guards shrieked. Torches were hurriedly lit, and a rough perimeter was formed. Cirra frowned to herself; it wasn't like zombies to go wandering in groups like this. But who was in charge of them? She would have detected Caine if he were nearby ...
Something slammed into the wagon above her, and with a groan, it toppled over. Cirra screamed as her cloak caught on the axle, and lifted her into the air. Men screamed as the wagon fell on them, and the zombies marched up to the first soldiers. The sounds of battle started, zombies silent as they tried to batter the soldiers to death with unnatural strength.
Flynn perched on top of the wagon, watching with glee. None of the guards had noticed him here yet, and he would make the most of it. Then a flash of green light caught his eye, as Marco's charged dagger ripped apart the cloak holding Cirra to the wagon. The brand, burned into her shoulder, caught his attention even more. This would be a prize indeed ... With a splintering crack, he leaned back and ripped the arm off a caravan guard. Without pause, he swung around fully, and the shoulder joint caught Cirra in the side of the head. She fell with a groan, and Marco yelled. Flynn jumped down off the wagon, and threw the boy into the two guards who came running, then picked up the unconscious Cirra and started running for the pass. Flame the zombies anyway, he didn't care about them, or the caravan. But the girl, oh yes, she might be of some use to him.
Behind them, back in the clearing, the guards fought against the zombies. Marco got back up, and started blasting the undead with flame, until he passed out. The bodies continued to fight on, even in pieces, until the guards had set fire to them all. The caravan master gulped down a healing potion, and looked around. One wagon, the one Flynn had tipped over, would never roll again. Seven guards were dead, and two of the wagon servants. Several stone jars of spices had spilled out into the dirt, and all of his torches had been used in fighting the zombies.
Then he realized who was missing. "Oh, stars and shadows. I don't think the Duke is going to like it when I tell him his cousin suddenly vanished in the middle of a fight against zombies." He gulped again, and started shouting orders to get the camp cleaned up, and back to some kind of order.

Caine awoke suddenly, as Flynn leaped onto the headstone next to him, leering down. The necromancer stood up slowly, and looked around. No zombies, and it was only a little bit after midnight. "Alright Flynn, did you destroy the caravan?" The ghoul shrugged, and Caine tried to hold back his anger. "Then what happened to my zombies?" Flynn shrugged again, and Caine's face started to contort. "Then why in the Nine Hells are you back here?"
Wordlessly, the ghoul reached behind the headstone, and lifted up a girl. Caine reached out, and took her from the ghoul's claws, but the angry look didn't leave his face until he caught sight of the brand burned into her shoulder. "Well, Flynn, I suppose I should punish you for completely failing in the simple task I sent you on. But on the other hand, you brought back my traitorous daughter. So get out of my sight." The ghoul scowled for a moment, but Caine sent a brief pulse of power through their brands, and the ghoul loped off.
The necromancer simply stood and looked at his daughter for several minutes, there in the moonlight. Finally, he made several magical symbols in the air, and a length of rope appeared in his hands. He bound her hands and feet, then patted her on the cheek. She woke fairly quickly, and he gave his daughter his most evil grin. "Hello, Cirra. What's wrong," he asked as she tried to squirm backwards, "didn't expect to see your father in such a place like this?"
He laughed as she took in the surroundings of the graveyard, and watched her try to stand up, bracing herself against a headstone. "Don't worry, dear daughter, I'm not going to harm you, yet. I have other things to do, first." She opened her mouth to say something, and Caine shot a bolt of energy through their brands. Cirra collapsed, screaming, and Caine lifted her off the ground. "Come along, my dear."

Higgins stormed right past the lean-to shelter, stopping several paces away. Diego and Romero had noticed it, of course. Lenk and Jack were already awake, inside. The dwarf was making enough noise for a dozen soldiers, but Diego and Romero were almost like ghosts. The dwarf stood still for a moment, and was just starting to turn when Diego's rock caught him cleanly on the side of the head. He tottered for a moment, then fell. "Told you we could use him."
"Right about that. All right, Lenk, Jack, we know you're in that shelter. Might as well come out." Romero stood there, sword out and waiting, as they crawled out each side of the shelter. Jack used a branch to stand up, and they could see his leg, the wound now starting to bleed again. Lenk held the paladin sword ready, and they both noticed the faint etchings, shimmering like dancing flames with every small movement. "Do you still have the blue topaz you stole from the treasury?"
The question was aimed at Lenk, but Jack carefully reached down into his shoe, and pulled loose the small stone. It glittered in the moonlight, and the strange magi watched, his spirit invisible and hidden in the trees. The spells on it, placed by Irini's grandfather, and later changed slightly by Caine, prevented him from touching the stone, stopped him from affecting it in any way. If only he could touch it, he could take back his life, undo the foolish act of hundreds of years gone!
Diego watched the thief for a moment. "Look, the Duke sent us out here to get that stone, and that sword. If you come back with us peacefully, he promised to spare your lives. If you don't want to be peaceful," he swallowed hard, "we kill you and take them back anyway. I prefer not having to fight."
Jack and Lenk looked at each other. "I'll come, but I'm not surrendering the sword."
The goblin could almost feel the metal sticking tightly to his hand. "You have my word, I won't try to escape or harm you, as long as I can keep the sword and travel unfettered." Romero leaned over to whisper to Diego. "You think we can trust him?"
The other scout considered for a moment. "Nope, but I don't think we have a choice. He's too damn good." He looked at Jack. "Give me the stone, and we'll help both of you get back to the castle. No ropes or bonds on either of you."
Jack sighed, and reached out his hand with the topaz. It fell into Diego's open palm, and disappeared into a pouch. A moment later, the scout handed him a healing potion. Jack drank it down quickly, shivering as the biting cold liquid spread to his leg, and the strange, crawling feeling as his muscles closed upon each other. "Fine, let's get back to civilization so that --"
With an animal roar, Higgins came charging back from where he had fallen. The scouts cursed, diving out of the way, and Jack rolled backwards, under a low branch. But the dwarf's attention was solely for Lenk, and Pureflame roared brightly with blue flames, waiting for the right moment. Lenk suddenly rolled to the side, moving even before the sword tried to nudge him in the right direction.
Flames shot up, covering Higgins' head for a moment. The dwarf seemed to whimper, then dropped to his knees, axe falling heavily into the ground. He reached up, running his hand through his hair, then turned suddenly as Diego slowly came into view.
"Diego ... scout, yer out here? What ... " The dwarf looked around, almost like suddenly awakening from a dream.
Diego looked to both Romero and Lenk for a moment. "Higgins, we think that Caine tried to curse you. You just tried to kill a ... paladin." He stumbled over the word, but yet it rang of truth. The dwarf looked around wildly for a moment, before he saw Lenk, standing there, still holding the flaming blue sword in one hand.
"Oye, me 'ead ... ye say Caine did t'is ta me? That lad is askin' fer a beatin'!" Higgins levered himself to his feet. His axe came loose from the soil, and he looked warily back and forth around the group. "Jack? Yer out 'ere too?"
His friend nodded sadly, painfully. "Lenk, the goblin, saved my life, Higgins. These two scouts came to find us, and get something very valuable back to Gerard." He swallowed, holding back the truth. Telling the dwarf the rest of the reason why wouldn't help anything now. "Are you going to help?"
Higgins stood there for a moment. "I donna trust ye, goblin!" His axe swung up to point. "But, iffin ye saved me friend's life, I won' touch ye, not 'til Duke say wha' I can do to ye."
Back in the edge of the trees, the magi watched. His life, his body, was almost literally in their hands. With the axe, or the sword, they could destroy the stone, and his life would be over. Yet if they took it back to the castle, he would again fall under the control of the Montoya family. Could he rely on Caine? No, no, too risky a plan there.
Perhaps ... perhaps, it would simply be best to approach the girl, the sorceress at the castle, and tell her of himself. Maybe she would take pity on him, and release him from his state. It was a good plan. And he was used to manipulating people, how to talk and move to evoke their emotions.

Irini sat in her room, running thoughts and pieces of spells through her mind. The shock of her father's sudden death had shaken her, pulling her loose from the astral spell, jumbling up pieces of knowledge in her mind. She had already sorted out a few spells; illusions, a bright sunburst of light, and a magical protection spell against the dead. But it wouldn't be easy to finish this job in one day. Slowly she stretched and arose, pulling open the shutters and looking out her tower window towards the road west, where the caravan would hopefully be appearing soon.
After watching for a moment, she turned and descended the stairs from her workroom. She had just reached the door to the hallway when she heard the voices, her brother Gerard and a messenger.
"Yes, milord, we were attacked during the night. Your cousin, Lady Cirra, gave an alarm to rouse the camp, but during the fighting she vanished. One of the guards said he saw one of the zombies carry her away. Her apprentice, Marco, was knocked unconscious early on, when one of our wagons was tipped over." The man paused for breath. "I was sent on ahead, to give my leader's apologies, and request any shelter you might have for himself and his men, while they try to repair the broken wagon, before journeying forth to Fince."
Silence ruled the hallway for a moment, and Irini stayed very still, behind the door. "Very well," Gerard sighed, "I can give them some shelter near my walls, but my keep is not large enough to house a handful of wagons inside. If I had guards to spare, then I would send help, but these undead have been troubling our valley for quite some time."
She assumed that the messenger bowed, and turned to depart, for she heard his footsteps padding away down the wooden floor of the upstairs hall. After the footsteps faded away, she pushed open the door, Gerard leaning against the wall, as if waiting for her. "You heard all of that, I assume?" She nodded silently.
"Things grow worse for us then. Charmain cannot hope to teach the boy what he needs to know magically, and I am far too busy." Her brother nodded his assent. "What of Diego, and the other scout? Any news from them yet?"
"Patience, Irini," he chuckled, "it has only been a day. I have faith in their abilities. I just hope that they are not over matched by Caine, and his undead minions." His sister nodded, years of practice helping her keep the fear and worry from her face. "I will be better prepared when next Caine strikes, but I fear I will do little more than hold him at bay."
Gerard nodded. "Hopefully, that is all we will need."

The five of them stumbled out onto the road. It had been a long night, and a long day before that, for most of them. Jack leaned both on Higgins' shoulder, and a makeshift crutch, limping along. Diego and Romero were still keeping a good watch forward and behind the small group, but a day, a night, and another morning without sleep were starting to take their toll. No attacks had come during the night, but the goblins and orcs were already stirring during the day, and they had several close calls.
Finally, they reached the road, and Diego scanned the sky for the position of the sun, taking a quick gulp of his waterskin. "Almost two hours until noon," he gasped out, passing the skin over to Lenk. They all stood for a moment, resting, before the clop of hooves and a jangle of harnesses came creaking from behind them, off to the west. Another few minutes they waited, before the first caravan guards, and the wagon, came into view around the trees.
The caravan pulled up to a stop almost immediately, as the caravan master and the guards surveyed the strange crew before them. Diego stepped forward, stumbling with exhaustion. "Hail, caravan! I am Diego, of the Montoya Scouts. Might we take a ride with your caravan the rest of the way back to the keep?"
The caravan master looked them over again. Two were obviously scouts, and the dwarf had the look of a blacksmith about him. The third human was probably the reason they wanted the ride; blood had soaked through the right leg of his trousers, several times. But the last ... "Not the goblin," he said as he spat. "No monster will ever ride in one of my wagons, not even as a corpse."
Diego looked back to Lenk. "I guess we're walking it, then." Lenk nodded, and Jack seemed too tired to argue. The scout turned back to the caravan. "We'll let you pass, then. Can you please tell Duke Gerard that we have found the paladin?" That ought to be enough to clue the Duke, he thought.
With slightly more interest, the caravan master turned to look at Jack. "Well, I've seen some paladins in pretty sorry shape before, but -- " Jack cut him off with a tired shake of his head, and pointed to his left. The caravan master looked right past Lenk, before he realized what the man was meaning. "You can't be serious! A goblin paladin is impossible, the little green wretches don't know enough about honor or decency to ever have a hope of learning a higher path!"
Lenk reached behind his back, and pulled Pureflame free from his belt. The blue flames leaped up almost immediately, and the guards drew back from the lead wagon. "I have had just about enough of everyone calling me a murderous wretch because of what I was born! Have you ever given a thought to what families might go missing because you killed some 'monster' during your travels?"
Everyone on the road was very still for several moments, as goblin and human faced off. Then the flames on the sword flickered out, and Lenk turned back to the group. "Let's get back to the castle," he said, and the others didn't argue. Behind them, the lead wagon was still for several minutes, until the overhanging trees and a bend in the road had swallowed them up again.