The Shrine of Kallen (The Tales of Zanoth Book 3) Read online

“It certainly is!” Alena agreed, wrapping her foster father in a firm embrace.

  “Let me try again,” he said, moving over to stand in front of the paladin. “Be healed!”

  Again, the divine power flowed through the old man's body; completely healing the paladin.

  “Does it always make you feel like this?” he asked, swaying even more than before.

  “You get used to it,” Paul assured him. “Before we call it a night – or day, I guess – you should try to turn. Just to see if you can do it.”

  “Alright,” Mark replied, steadying himself as best he could. “I've seen you do that before.”

  He raised the symbol in his hand, focused himself, and cried out.

  “Drop dead!”

  Nothing happened.

  “It looks like I can't turn,” the old man pointed out.

  “I wouldn't worry about that if I were you,” Paul replied, shaking his head. “Being able to heal is still a big deal.”

  “You may be able to do it after you've had some rest,” Nyssa said encouragingly.

  “Before I get that,” he replied, “I should at least try to heal the rest of you.”

  “No, you shouldn't,” Alena asserted, slipping one of her arms around him. “You look like you can barely stand. Right now, you need to get some sleep. The rest of us can wait until we get up this afternoon.”

  “Late this afternoon,” Joey suggested as the band began making their way out of the shrine.

  “I hope I can learn to turn,” General Halfar said, “I would love to use the power of the gods to send our undead enemies to the grave.”

  As he intoned the words to the grave a wave of golden light erupted from the symbol hanging from his neck. He stumbled and would have collapsed if the ogress hadn't been supporting him.

  “Incredible!” Alena cried with obvious delight, holding him bodily off the ground.

  “It seems I can turn after all,” he said with a weary smile. “Although, I'm not sure I can walk now.”

  “That's not a problem,” Sarrac asserted, slipping one of his own arms around the old man. “Alena and I can carry you.”

  “Is it normal for your blood to feel like it's about to boil?” Mark asked the paladin.

  “Perfectly,” he replied.

  “That's good to know.”

  For almost a minute, silence prevailed amongst the party members as they trudged slowly back toward the keep through the knee-deep grass. After such a long – and boring – silence, however, Nyssa finally felt compelled to speak.

  “So, I've been thinking,” she said, fluttering up to take a seat on Joey's shoulder. “Oh, and, you don't mind if I sit here, do you?”

  “Not in the least.”

  “Good,” she smiled. “I was afraid you might be insulted if I seemed to think of you as a horse or something.”

  “As long as you think of me as a large, powerful, and particularly masculine horse, I don't mind at all.”

  “I absolutely think of you as large,” she nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Gigantic would probably be an even better word. Which is too bad, really. On the other hand, you're so well behaved – as a general rule – that you strike me as a gelding.”

  This statement caused Paul to burst out laughing and Joey to take a deep breath through his nose and let it out in a long hum.

  “Well,” he said, “allow me to assure you that I intend to find a way to alter that impression.”

  “You're not planning to buck me off, are you?” she asked, flipping her wings up and preparing for flight.

  “No...” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, you've been thinking?”

  “Oh, good,” she said, lowering her wings again and turning her face to his. “And, yes, I have been thinking. Have you noticed how good a team we make?”

  “I certainly have,” he assured her.

  “How?”

  “What?”

  “How do we make a good team?” she asked, a puzzled look on her face.

  “Well...” he stalled. “I could tell you, but that would spoil the surprise.”

  “I suppose that's true,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Oh, it is,” he nodded. “So, you tell me what you were thinking and I'll let you know if you're right or not.”

  “Like a guessing game!” she said excitedly.

  “Exactly,” he smiled.

  “Well,” she began, “it strikes me as obviously good teamwork when you make that rather pathetic ball of fire of yours and then I take control of it in order to slaughter our enemies.”

  “It is,” he nodded.

  “So, I was right?!” she exclaimed.

  “You were,” the wizard replied. “Keep going while you're on a roll.”

  “Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath and tapping her forehead with her finger, “then there's... well, obviously, there's.... nope... that's it, actually. Maybe we're not a very good team, after all.”

  “Maybe we're really good at dancing together,” he suggested.

  “How would we know?” she asked, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “We've never even tried. I'm too small – I mean; you're too large. On top of which, we don't even have... a... ball... room... Is it a ballroom?! Is that what the thing is?”

  “I can't tell you,” he said with a knowing wink, “that would spoil the surprise.”

  At this response, she gasped for breath and put her hand over her mouth.

  “You're right... You are seriously getting smarter!”

  “Thank you,” he smiled.

  “I'm going to go see if I can find it!” she said, leaping in the air. “It has to be around here somewhere.”

  Having made this assertion, she flew off excitedly.

  “You know...” Paul began, turning his eyes to his friend, “you are getting noticeably better at flirting with fairies.”

  “I know, right,” he nodded. “It's kind of an art.”

  “Keep at it. I think you're perfecting it.”

  “I certainly intend to try.”

  Just minutes later, the party members were all sprawled out on beds in the barracks. Nyssa had returned, expressing a certain amount of annoyance with the ballroom for continuing to hide from her – in spite of her explaining to it just how tired she was. She chattered about this until the moment she fell asleep; becoming even more nonsensical than usual near the end, and demanding that the ballroom sit in the corner until it learned to behave.

  Paul couldn't help but smile at this as he stretched himself quite contentedly on his thin and narrow mattress. Things were going well. Really well. They had managed to get the women and children back safely, as well as all the Warriors they had taken with them. The funeral services General Halfar planned to hold later that afternoon would be a rather unpleasant affair but, it had to be done.

  He had never liked going to funerals, much less funerals where widows and orphans would be mourning their lost fathers and husbands. Still, those men had achieved the goal they had reached for when they laid down their lives. Their families would be able to live in peace and prosperity because of their sacrifice.

  In truth, the living were becoming more of a force to be reckoned with every day. The general was the latest priest or paladin to rise up to fight for them, but he wouldn't be the last. Sarrac was right; the gods were with them. Before long, the Fortress of Donmar would be filled with men and women determined to destroy their undead masters. Grathis probably didn't realize it yet, but he was in serious trouble.

  Of course, the war was a long way from over. Zanoth was a big place and Grathis was merely one of countless undead lords who ruled over the world. Not to mention the fact that the gods of the living had been unable to prevent the dead from conquering the entire planet in the first place. Things were undeniably going well, but they couldn't afford to forget what their real position was. At the moment, they were nothing more than a handful of rebels with a bag full of tricks that their enemies hadn't learned to deal with yet.
How long would it take the undead to figure out what was going on? How long would it take them to find a way to successfully counter-attack?

  Those were questions with no answers. As such, there was no reason to dwell on them. Now was what they had. They just needed to use it. And, part of his using it was going to be asking Thaelen to help him with getting a house built. What would she want in a house? He needed to find a way to ask her without asking her. He also needed to find someplace where he could buy a ring...

  Several hours before the sun set, the party was summoned to attend the funeral services. The entire population of the fortress – except for the few sentries who stood watch over Kal Tammon – packed themselves into the confines of the shrine. Warriors, widows, and orphans wept together as General Halfar thanked the fallen and the gods that watched over their departed souls. He extolled the virtue and the valor of those that had been lost and assured the entire assembly that he was certain that the fallen had made their way to the heavens and were looking down on them in approval at that very moment.

  Tears poured down the cheeks of all the party members – including those of the irrepressible fairy – as Captain Thaelen and Captain Gregory spoke of each of the men that had served under them one at a time. The wives of the departed, along with their older children, were also allowed to speak.

  When these eulogies were complete, the entire group moved to the catacombs. The entrance was a short distance from the shrine and had been discovered just days before. Here, one by one, the living said their final farewells to the dead, before their bodies were entombed within the cold recesses of the grave.

  These sorrows were not unmixed with joy, however. These men had been given a burial and their bodies would not be forced to serve the undead that had slaughtered them. This was a consolation few in Zanoth had felt for centuries. The dead had left behind families who would reap the blessings they had lost their lives to plant and shed their blood to water. They had died fighting for the cause of righteousness, and those that longed once again to hear their voices or hold them in their arms were not without hope. That was a blessing even the gods of darkness could not rip from them. They would be rejoined with their loved ones in the next life.

  As soon as the last of the fallen was buried, the group made its way back to the fortress where they enjoyed a feast in the largest of the dining rooms. The general had ordered this meal for two reasons; the first was to end the funeral with a celebration, the second was to prepare them for a fast. Although they certainly had enough food to last them the next five days or so, they did not have enough to all eat their fill during every one of those days. They were going to have to tighten their belts. That being the case, he felt it best to have one last large meal before they had to do that.

  While they were doing their best to enjoy themselves, despite the reasons for the celebration, Paul managed to have a few words alone with Thaelen. The captain assured him that he did plan to start working on a house as soon as possible and said that he would be honored to build one for Paul – or help him build one, if he preferred – as soon as his own family's home was complete.

  Myra almost caught them discussing this, but he managed to deftly switch the subject the moment she approached. Thaelen excused himself and rejoined his wife – leaving the pair as alone as they could be in the crowded chamber.

  “It's been a bit of a rough day,” he asserted before taking a sip of wine.

  “It has,” she agreed, “but, it's been a good day. At least these people got to say their farewells knowing that their loved ones' bodies weren't going to be eaten by some undead horror after the service.”

  “That's some comfort, I guess,” he replied, shaking his head. “Zanoth really is a cesspit of a world.”

  “It's not as bad as it was,” she pointed out with a coy smile. “Not since you got here.”

  “Not since you came back to life and started killing undead,” he replied, his eyes locked on hers.

  “Paul,” the general said, interrupting the couple's conversion, “would you and Myra join me in the throne room?”

  “We certainly will,” the paladin nodded. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing's wrong,” he smiled. “It's just that there's a lot to be done and I'd like to talk a few things over before we all call it a night.”

  “Lead the way,” Paul replied, waving toward the door.

  “You have a little more time to enjoy yourselves,” he replied. “At least, enjoy yourselves as best you can under the circumstances. I just want to speak with all of you before you head for bed.”

  “I'll be sure to let the others know,” the paladin smiled.

  “I'd appreciate it,” the old man nodded. “I'll be waiting for you in the throne room.”

  Chapter 8: Here or There

  “I hope this doesn't take too long,” Joey said, stifling a yawn. “I really want to get some serious sleep tonight.”

  “So do I,” Nyssa nodded, taking up a seat on the wizard's shoulder. “I woke up almost an hour before the rest of you did. I had a dream that the ballroom was hiding out in the woods near my bed – which you still haven't moved into the barracks for me, Joey – so I went to take a look. It wasn't there... Of course, it may have heard me coming. I sneezed right before I got there. I wish I'd thought to put my finger under my nose.”

  “Was I supposed to move it into the barracks?”

  “Of course, you were,” the fair fairy replied, staring at the side of his face with a shocked expression on her own. “I'm sure you've noticed how cramped I am in that other bed.”

  “Obviously,” he nodded. “You don't honestly think I'd be so thoughtless as to overlook that, do you?”

  “I certainly hoped you wouldn't be,” she replied. “But, if you weren't, why haven't you moved it already? You had almost an hour this afternoon while I was searching for the ballroom. Which was really thoughtful of me – considering the fact that I'm only trying to find it so we can try to dance together so we'll know whether or not we make a good team.”

  “I take your point,” he pretended to cede, “but, I thought you wanted it in the woods.”

  “Oh, of course,” she smiled. “That makes sense. You weren't thoughtless again, you were stupid again. Stupid is something I can learn to love with – I mean, live with. Well... I can, as long as you keep getting less stupid at the rate you have up to this point. Although, you did have a long way to go, and it probably wouldn't be fair for me to expect...”

  “So,” he interrupted, “you don't want it in the woods anymore?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her tiny head. “It's all aired out now. Not so much as a trace of that vampire's foul stench is still clinging to the covers.”

  “In that case,” the wizard replied with a weary smile, “I'm sure Paul and I can move it before we head for bed. Can't we, bro?”

  “Absolutely,” the paladin nodded as he threw open the door of the throne room.

  General Halfar was awaiting them, sitting in the large stone seat that stood at the far side of the chamber. Gregory and Thaelen stood on either side of him. The trio briefly glanced up at the party as they entered before turning their attention back to the circular metal plate that sat atop a small stone column at the side of the throne.

  “If the fact that these runes are glowing means anything,” he began as soon as Paul and his companions were in easy hearing distance, “then, I would guess we can move the fortress again.”

  “I feel certain that we can,” Myra agreed, her own eyes on the shining symbols.

  “That fact,” he continued, “renews our previous discussion. Should we move it, or should we leave it where it is for the time being?”

  “I don't see any advantage to moving it now,” Alena said. “Just days ago, we decimated one of Grathis's armies.”

  “Which is exactly why we may want to move it,” the old man replied. “Grathis isn't going to give up. He's going to send an even larger army to destroy us. For all we know, it may alre
ady be on its way.”

  “We can try to find out,” Nyssa said. “I can scry around and see if there are any massive undead forces headed this way.”

  “That's a brilliant idea,” Joey asserted with a smile.

  “I suppose it is,” Alena admitted. “Still, I don't think we should run unless we have to. Our holding this place is a symbol of the living being able to resist the undead.”

  “It is,” Sarrac agreed, “but, our rebellion desperately needs several things.”

  “What are those?” the ogress asked from under a single raised eyebrow.

  “Food is the first one, obviously.”

  “Which won't be a problem,” Alena pointed out, “as we'll be able to get a whole vault-full in five days or so. Having to go hungry for a few days is a small price to pay to escape the undead.”

  “Extremely small,” the ogre nodded. “However, we also need time. Although I agree that getting enough food for our current needs won't be an issue, that will quickly change as we bring more and more people here. Which, I'm sure you'll agree, has to be one of our first priorities.”

  “Without question.”

  “That means,” he continued, “having enough food to continuously feed a city. Which, of course, means farms. We have the manpower we need – although we could use more horses, now that we've lost most of those we had – to start clearing, plowing, and planting. In a few months’ time, we'll have the crops we need to feed thousands for a year or so. I don't know that we'd be able to capture that much one vault-load at a time every five days.”

  “I suppose I see what you mean,” the ogress replied.

  “Not to mention that we also need to start building homes,” the ogre asserted.

  “We certainly do,” Paul said, shooting a smile at Myra.

  “The barracks are good enough for the men,” Sarrac said, “but, the women and children should be offered something better. For many – if not all – of them, this fortress may well end up being their permanent home. We should start trying to make it feel that way.”

  “None of this is a reason to move,” Alena asserted. “Wherever we keep the door, we'll be able to start building houses and farms.”