***
Keira woke from a restless sleep fraught with wicked dreams of Mercius, scaling an enormous tower-mountain, bleeding and dying, naked except for the black sword strapped to his back, its solidity looking incongruous on his raked and melting flesh. She had called out to him in her horrid dream, but he had not looked her way, as if he couldn’t summon the will to turn his head and face her. She prayed that he heard her, and knew that she would love him eternally, no matter the circumstances or the outcome.
Rising from her travel-stained bedroll, Keira rubbed at her eyes and took in the camp surrounding her. It was well past dawn, so the place was already bustling with life. However, the Hammer and the Blade went about their various tasks with their heads bowed and lead in their steps. They felt the loss of their general, their leader, almost as much as she did. And no matter how hard she had tried to convince them that he was not dead, only absent and would return, they remained downtrodden, and she suspected that the only motive that would rouse them from their lethargic stupor would be seeing Mercius' face again, or revenge upon those Hell-fiends responsible for his death.
They had camped some miles into the forest that edged Asgoroth’s desert. The trees were green and thriving, but the sickness that spread out from the desert was encroaching, and it was only a matter of time before this place, too, fell into ruin and rot and decay.
Keira made her slow way to the tent that had been set up in the center of the camp. A quick pang of grief lanced through her heart when she spotted it. So many times she had approached the very same tent, and seen Mercius standing there at his ease. Now the sight brought only pain.
She steeled her nerves, however, telling herself firmly that Mercius was alive, and would return to her. She didn’t know how long that would take, but she was prepared to wait till the end of her days.
Griffin was standing in the tent, surrounded by the marshals of the Hammer and the Blade, who all reclined as comfortably as possible on stools or chairs. There was a silence in the air that warned Keira that some matter of great import was being discussed, and possibly argued over.
“Good morning, Keira,” Sophia said from her chair. There was a look of pure sympathy in her eyes, barely disguising the hurt that she felt for the loss of Mercius. Sophia believed Keira when she told her that Mercius would return, but she nevertheless had prepared herself for the fact that that might never happen, and grieved all the same. “We were discussing where to go from here,” the older woman continued. The Hammer and the Blade had been back from Asgoroth’s dungeons for nearly a week, and they had no idea what their next move was. Keira believed that this played a part in the depression of the troops, and was prepared to tell the marshals that they had to move, no matter what direction they chose, lest the legion tear themselves apart from the inside.
“And what have you decided?” Keira asked.
“Nothing,” Griffin’s voice was grim and stern. “Half of us want to return to the dungeons and destroy what lives there, the other half wish to wander the land in search of some other form of evil to destroy. Neither option is a good one.”
Keira nodded her head in agreement, then said, “Whatever we decide, we must do it quickly. The troops are depressed and grieving, and we must give them something that will occupy their thoughts. From the stories that were carried back from the dungeons, I don’t think there can be victory in that path, but I wasn’t there.” She let the statement hang in the air, hoping to spark some conversation and, eventually, a decision.
Griffin replied, “We have already come to the same conclusion. The dungeons are too vast, and only Mercius knew the ways of them. Without him, we will be lost and destroyed before we can even begin to do battle with the demons that lurk there.”
“Then where?” Darius asked. “We cannot stay here and await Mercius' return, as Keira has already pointed out, but we must have a goal before we set out, or we’ll just be wanderin' around the damned forest for the rest of our lives.”
“Which brings us back to where we started, and have been stuck for a week,” Peter said softly.
There came a soft scratch at the tent flap behind Keira. She turned and walked to the entrance, pulling aside the flap. Involuntarily, she hissed a sharp intake of breath. There before her was the Watcher, Maul-din. While she had grown somewhat accustomed to the eyeless figures, she was still rather repulsed by them. There was constantly a smell of old, stale sickness about them, and she sensed something dark whenever one was near her, as if they were shrouded with evil that was trying to break free.
“May I enter?” the thing asked in its creaking, dry voice that sent shivers along her spine. She glanced back at Griffin, who nodded tersely. As she moved aside, the thing shuffled past her and seemed to sniff the air before it as it went. It stopped in front of the tall black man and seemed to peer into his eyes, though it had been blinded unknown years ago.
Griffin, in turn, stared expressionlessly into Maul-din's face. There was a fire burning in the black man's eyes. “Speak, Watcher, or get out of my sight. You offend me with your very presence,” Griffin said finally, breaking the building silence.
The Watcher chuckled in his dry manner, his lips cracked and bleeding. “You are lost, Arkarum. I see it in your soul. Your leader is beyond your reach, and you know not where to go.” It chuckled again.
Griffin’s voice was quiet, on the edge of a barely controlled rage: “Do not mock us with what is plain to see, creature. If you have something to say, then be out with it. Now.”
The thing stared at Griffin sightlessly for another moment, before speaking in its cracked voice: “Mercius is not lost. He is simply beyond.” Here he made a nonchalant gesture indicating somewhere and nowhere. “He can return, but he will need help. From all of you. You, especially,” he turned to Keira, “will need to fight for your love.” She shuddered slightly under the thing’s gaze, and the severity of its voice, but didn’t respond. “There is a place that is unprotected by demons. It is a place that is as old as the earth itself. It is dark and dangerous. A danger that is unlike any you have faced before. It is there you must go, and I must lead you.”
Darius had risen to his feet during the Watcher’s speech. “Where is this place?” he asked, excitement rich in his clear, deep voice.
The thing turned its dry face to Darius slowly. "It is far, but can be reached before it is too late. It is in the depths of a place that is both holy and feared. But it is there that you must go, and there that you will find Mercius, though you may not like him as he will be.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Darius and Keira said almost simultaneously. The Watcher didn’t respond, however. He simply turned back to Griffin, awaiting his response. It was clear that he would say no more on the matter.
After several long moments of silence, Griffin said, “Let us discuss this. We will give you our answer when we are ready.” He gestured sharply with his chin toward the tent’s exit.
As the Watcher was leaving, he turned and creaked over his shoulder, “Choose wisely. Your fate and the fate of your leader hinges upon your decision.” With that he was gone, leaving the others to stare at the closed tent flap.
“Well,” Darius broke the silence. “That was as disturbing as ever.” No one laughed at his attempt to lighten the mood, so he continued: “The way I see it is, we have no other goal, and Mercius was willing to trust these things. We might as well go where they lead. It’s either that, or we face death in the dungeons.”
Jax spoke for the first time since Keira had entered the headquarters tent: “I agree with Darius. I have no love for these…Watchers, but I see no other course we can take.” His voice was layered in scorn and distrust when he used the word 'Watchers'.
“Indeed,” Peter said in his usual quiet voice. “What did he mean that we might not like him when we find him, I wonder.”
“I agree that it doesn’t bode we
ll,” Griffin replied. “But Darius is right. We have no other choice. If we stay, we die. If we attack the dungeons, we die. If we roam the deserts and the mountains, we die. And, more than likely, considering who we’re following, if we go where the Watcher leads, we die. Either way, Maul-din at least gives us some thread of hope.”
Eliah grunted his agreement. “And a goal. Which is what we need, more than anything.”
“Good,” Sophia said. “It’s settled then. We follow the creature to Mercius, hopefully. But we must be watchful. It is no secret that none of us have any great trust for the Watchers. Any sign of treachery we must notice and act upon, swiftly and with extreme prejudice.”
Keira simply nodded her head when everyone cast their eyes about for an accord. “I will find the Watcher, and tell him what we have decided.”
“No,” Griffin said, “it should be me. I’m the General,” this he said with a sardonic twist to his voice, sending a slight chuckle through the marshals. It was no secret that Griffin thought the title slightly ridiculous.
“Forgive me, Griffin, but I have questions for the thing.” Seeing the conviction in her eyes, Griffin simply nodded his acquiescence.
Standing up and approaching Keira, Sophia said softly, “Be careful, dear. That thing has darkness surrounding it.” Giving Sophia a look that said, Trust me, I know, Keira left the tent.
She roamed the camp, looking sadly at all of the glum faces that surrounded her. Her feet carried her in circuits around the desultory place, although she knew where the Watchers were being housed. She was nervous about talking to Maul'din. Finally, after far too long, she steeled herself and walked toward the small tent where the Watchers were.
She entered the tent without announcing her presence. It was dark and gloomy inside, and smelled of sickly oldness. The four Watchers looked up simultaneously, and Keira stifled the urge to turn and flee under the menacing, eyeless stares of the ancient things before her.
For what seemed like an eternity, they just gazed at her, for all the world as if they could see her; more, see through her, into her heart and soul.
She broke the nerve-wracking silence: “What did you mean that I, especially, will have to fight for Mercius?”
Silence descended once again, and the things continued to stare at her. Finally Maul'din rose and approached her. He stopped uncomfortably close to her, their toes almost touching and his hot, dry, stinking breath on her face. She dug deep and found her steel, refusing to take an instinctive step back.
Looking into her face, the Watcher said, “Mercius is in great danger. He will face his fears. He even now faces Hell, and he will face the darkness that is leashed within him. He will need love to bring him back from the blackness. He will need you. But you will have to fight, for he will not want your help or your rescue.”
Keira didn’t understand any of this, and was on the point of saying so when the thing before her held up a forestalling hand and said, “There will be difficulties in your path. You will have to fight with your hands as well as your love.” Silently, he had reached out and placed his dry, cracked hand upon hers. She tried to pull away, but the thing’s steely grip held her fast. “Learn to fight, young one, or you will die, and Mercius will be lost.” As he said this, the Watcher raised its other hand and softly caressed one long-nailed finger across her pale cheek. “Learn,” it whispered. After a barely perceptible gesture of its head, one of the Watchers at his back rose and brought to him a small wooden box. The Watcher, still with his finger caressing her face, took the box from his companion without turning his eyeless gaze from Keira's face. He guided her hand to the box, and clasped his over it, repeating himself in a whisper, “Learn.” Keira turned and fled from the company of the horrid ancient things.
When she was a safe distance from their tent, Keira sat and placed the box before her on the ground. It was plain, and about as long as her forearm, clasped with rusty latches. Taking a deep breath, she undid the clasps and opened the box. What she saw stunned her deeply. It was a wickedly curved dagger with a blade of pitted steel that split halfway down its length to end in two sharp points half an inch apart. The handle was yellowed bone wrapped in rough leather and bounded with brass bands. The pommel was tipped with several inch-long spikes. Keira lifted the thing reverently from its case, which was lined with a plush fabric. She handled it like a beautiful, deadly snake. She hefted the weapon, feeling its perfect balance almost hum in her grasp, though she knew almost nothing of such things.
Putting the thing back into its simple case, Keira made her way to talk to Darius, and ask him to teach her how to use her new weapon.
The following dawn saw the Hammer and the Blade breaking camp and moving out. The Watchers had been given small donkeys to ride, and were at the front of the line with the marshals and Griffin. They were silent, even when questioned as to where they were leading the group. Griffin was filled with frustration, as were the marshals, but the Keira noticed that the legion had regained some of their spirit due to the simple expedient of having a goal and something to do.
They marched north through the forest, past where, over a decade ago, Mercius and Jax and Sophia had turned into the mountains and, eventually, Drurador.
For over a month the company traveled in near silence. The forest slowly gave way to hilly planes that were here and there covered with dying grass that came to their knees. It was a forsaken place, but not as deeply in the clutches of the evil that plagued the world as had been Asgoroth’s desert, or the land surrounding Mor'denaa’s compound. There was still game aplenty, but half the time when the hunting parties would return, they would report that when their kill had been skinned, the meat inside proved rotten, even though they had only just killed the thing. But, they managed well enough, and if their meals were meager, they were still sufficient.
The plains themselves were gently rolling hills. The grass was stiff and mostly dead, and where there was no vegetation, the earth was bare and burnt black.
Keira had taken to heart what Maul'din had told her, and had conscripted Darius to help her learn to wield the blade the Watchers had given her.
After a month of marching, the Maul'din quietly asked Griffin to call a halt. The black man did as he was asked, and the legion set up camp with their accustomed quick efficiency.
“Why are we stopped, Watcher,” Griffin said to the blind, ancient thing.
“We are almost there,” it replied.
Griffin looked around, and saw nothing but the rolling hills stretching in all directions to the horizon. “Almost where?”
Maul'din chuckled his dry laugh. “The Hollows,” he whispered, as if the name he revered.
Darius spoke up from the Watcher’s other side. “And what are the Hollows?”
“It is where you must go to find your friend,” Maul'din replied, cryptic as ever, before walking away toward where his tent would be set up.
“He’s a helpful old fucker, isn’t he?” Darius asked dryly. Griffin grunted and turned away.
The following morning the marshals gathered, at Griffin’s request, in the headquarters tent. Maul'din came shortly after they were assembled. “The Hollows are a sacred and terrible place,” he told them without preamble. “If you are unprepared, or weak, the Hollows will destroy you. Only those with love in their hearts are safe there. Only love for Mercius can bring him back.”
“Just tell us what we have to do,” Griffin said in a growl. His patience with the Watcher was wearing thin.
“You must come with me,” Maul'din replied. “I will take you to the edge of the Hollows, but I cannot enter with you. Once you are there, you must search for him. He may not be there yet, or he may have been there already for years. I cannot see into the Hollows.” The group passed confused looks between themselves; how could Mercius have been in the Hollows for years?
After a quick discussion, it was decided that Eliah would
stay behind and maintain the legion. Should their mission fail and they perish, Eliah would lead the Hammer and the Blade to whatever end he saw fit. The rest of the marshals had come to respect and admire the taciturn older man, and all felt that he was entirely capable of this charge.
And so they departed as the sun made its daily feeble attempt to break through the ever-present gloom that hung over the land. The Watcher led them on his scraggly donkey, while the rest rode upon their respective horses.
After riding for half the day, there began to descend upon them a grey mist. It started as tendrils of wispy fog around their horses’ hooves, and slowly thickened into a deep haze that clung to their skin and clothes. With the fog there came unto them a deep, eerie silence that echoed through the mist.
“Welcome,” the Watcher’s dry whisper came, “to the Hollows.” He halted his donkey, who was now--as were all their steeds--wide-eyed and jittery. “Here I must leave you.”
“You have led us nowhere!” Darius exclaimed in voice somewhere between a whisper and a shout, his voice straining to convey his anger, but wary of piercing the silence of the fog.
Maul'din's dry chuckle seemed to surround them all, but none could see farther than a few feet before them. They each peered into the gloom, trying to make out the form of the Watcher, but the mist was too thick.
“Where are you, you miserable wretch?” came Griffin’s angry shout. No reply. They were only surrounded by the resounding silence of the grey fog.
“Here,” Peter said. They all went to the sound of his voice, and were dismayed when they were close enough to see what Peter had found. It was the poor donkey, frightened and shaking, wild-eyed and entirely without a passenger.
“That cracked, evil son of a bitch!” Darius yelled. “What are we to do now? I can’t see my own feet in this forsaken fog.”
“Relax,” Sophia said. "The Watcher told us that he would lead us to the Hollows, and we must believe that is what he did. He also told us that he could not venture further with us, so we shouldn’t be terribly surprised that he has left. Now, we must search for Mercius. And we must keep love in our hearts.” This last she said with a sardonic hint to her voice, indicating that she didn’t know what that meant any more than did the others.
“Very well,” said Jax. “If we’re to search, let’s search. As to the love in our hearts bit, I would think that means that we must keep our love for Mercius in the front of our minds. Some sort of a compass, I reckon.” The rest of the company nodded, though none could see the others. With a silent agreement, the company dismounted and let their horses make their own way out of the rising fog.
With Mercius running through each of their minds, and thoughts of his kind manner in their hearts, Griffin and the marshals traveled deeper and deeper into the Hollows.