The Key of Ban by James Harshfield
Without hesitation, Coaldon walked into the horde of trogs wearing his gek robe. His fatigue caused by his attack on the Royal Gek made it difficult for him to push his way through the horde of unrestrained trogs. Their random movement created constant jostling. As he continued, a tree appeared directly in front of him. He climbed into the lower branches to rest.
His view from this position was spell-binding. The aimless movement of trogs reminded him of ants. They darted this way and that way with motion seeming to be the determining force. As he watched this ballet-of-bafflement, the uniqueness of his situation became obvious. Even the rank odor and filthy appearance of the trogs did not interfere with his fascination. Mesmerized, he continued to watch until he once again heard the beating of the war drum.
It was apparent a new Royal Gek had taken control. The trogs lost their distracted appearance and started to move in definite directions. The eyes of the beasts became alert and focused on fulfilling their mission.From his perch in the tree, he watched the beasts moving toward the south end of the meadow.
He questioned “Why are the trogs moving away from the canyon? Maybe the horns were from the dwarf army arriving from Rockham.”
Climbing higher into the tree, he saw the wall in the canyon had been breached and the dwarves were no longer in the canyon.
“Isn’t this interesting? I must find a way to rejoin my friends. I assume they will be traveling south and the trog army will be pursuing them. I could conceal myself as a gek in the middle of the army. Later, I can escape.”
He pulled a soggy piece of bread from his pocket and ate it with relish. With renewed strength, he was ready to go.
Dropping from the tree, he followed several trogs to a meeting point for their regimental unit. Upon arriving, the trogs were hastily organized into rows and columns. A roar of excitement arose from the trogs when their master gave the command to begin marching. The unit trotted toward the south, chanting depraved war songs.
After several suspicious glances from trogs, Coaldon decided he needed to be more realistic in playing the role of a gek. So with a look of authority, he assumed an official stance. He walked with his shoulders back, head high and a look of determination. To reinforce this aura of dominance, he asserted himself by moving with an arrogant swagger. His conceited stride demonstrated he was ready to fight anybody who might challenge his authority. With his sword in hand, he jogged in formation with the army.
Coaldon knew from past experience the dwarves would be setting a series of ambushes. The dense trees and underbrush were ideal for the dwarves’ hit and run fighting style. After several hours of marching, he heard the clash of the first ambush. The blast of horns was followed by the savage war cries of the dwarf attackers. The clash of metal and the scream of dying beasts ended as suddenly as it began. One ambush after another continued for hours. The sounds of the ambushes came at different locations along the front of the trogs’ advance.
Coaldon noticed the beasts slowed to a walk. The soldiers were showing growing signs of uneasiness at the possibility of being ambushed. The trogs were anxious because they could not see their opponents. Their agitation increased as the sounds of unseen battles grew closer.
The trog unit Coaldon was following finally blundered into an ambush. He was conveniently located at the rear of the troop when the sound of horns introduced the dwarves’ attack. The lethal assault was so sudden and violent, the beasts fought with bewilderment and incompetence. Coaldon was not prepared for the retreating herd of trogs stampeding toward him. He had to turn and run or be trampled under foot. This confusion offered him the opportunity to blend into the underbrush. He decided it was a good time to escape. He chose to move east toward the coast to hide from the probing eyes of the geks.
He debated if he should remove his yellow robe. If he took it off the trogs might kill him. If he left it on the dwarves might attack him. Weighing the advantages and disadvantages, he decided to remove it. He would be more obscure by showing his own earth colored clothes. He used the primitive strategy of dodge-and-hide to avoid contact with the trog army. Several times he was only steps away from geks looking for retreating trogs but managed to remain concealed. After several hours of evasive actions, he was free of the geks.
As the darkness covered the land, he found a small creek bed cut deep into a gully. Crawling under a large pine tree, he slept. With hunger becoming a concern, he spent an uncomfortable night. Wild images kept ravaging his slumber. Tossing and turning in his sleep, he dreamt he was desperately struggling to escape from a watery tomb. The grave of churning water held him tightly on a journey down a raging river. He saw his hands thrashing to grab an object just out of his reach. Over and over he attempted to grab the elusive thing dangling before him. With his lungs exploding for the need of air, he saw the hand of death reaching for him. Erupting from the dream, he found his hands gripping a branch over his head. Sweat soaked his clothes.
In relief, he listened to the soothing sounds of the night. The first crickets of spring joined the animals and insects of the forest as they sang the serenade of life. Unable to stay awake, he drifted into a second dream. This time he found himself in a crowded building surround by many grotesque creatures. Their reaching hands began to tear at his flesh. By pushing and shoving, he was able to race ahead of their pursuit. With gasping breaths, he climbed a tall tree. The beasts’ eyes were suddenly drawn away from him and toward an enemy on the horizon. Losing his balance, he fell from the tree, tumbling out-of-control. Looking down he saw grotesque creatures stampeding after an obscure prey. In an attempt to escape from falling, he spread his arms. To his relief, he began to fly over the top of the forest with unbelievable freedom. He dived, rolled and soared through the air with the majesty of a great eagle. The elation ended when he saw Noel running to escape from the claws of a giant monster. Noel was in a state of terror. With fear gripping her face, she looked up at him. He heard her pleading for help. Finally, out of exhaustion she tripped and fell to the ground. The monster picked her up and laughed with great satisfaction.
Exploding from his dream, Coaldon felt uncontainable anger and hatred. Never in his short life had he ever experienced such extreme emotions. He calmed himself by saying, “I have more important things to do than be concerned over silly dreams. It is more urgent I find food. I remember the dwarves of Lost Valley showing me how to find gopher roots. Eating these roots could keep me alive. I gain nothing by sitting here and talking to myself.”
The light of the new day helped bring hope back into his life. The misery of the night was soon washed away by the healing power of the sun.
Fair weather accompanied his journey. At first, dense foliage and fallen trees made it difficult for him to make his way south. It was not until the evening of the first day that the forest opened into a broad coastal savanna. The tall grass plain was interspersed with many groves of trees. Over many centuries, the weather and water created gentle rolling hills. He was happy to be able to find an ample supply of gopher roots. Fortunately, the bitter tasting roots satisfied his hunger.
The second and third days went by without any concerns. Coaldon enjoyed this time of freedom and the beauty of the savanna. The wind blew the tall grass in waves across the expanse of rolling hills.
While munching on a gopher root, he thought, “I believe the dwarves will escape from the trogs. The hit and run attack strategy is very effective. It will not be long before the trogs will give up. Yet, this is only the beginning of the real war. The events of the past few weeks have confirmed to me the need to take bold action against Crossmore. We must find the Key of Ban. I do not believe we have the resources to conquer Crossmore without help. Using the Key of Ban seems to be the only way we can overcome his evil power.”
Looking to the west he asked, “I wonder if Noel and my friends are all right.” On the fourth day, while enjoying the early morning sun, he detected movement on the western slopes of the savanna. A small group of travelers was rapidly moving south along the boundary
between the grasslands and forest of the highlands. The group was too far away to see if they were humans, dwarves or trogs. His curiosity compelled him to investigate in case gek soldiers had been sent to create havoc. Setting off at a jog, he approached the group at an angle from behind their position. He felt confident they would not see him as he drew near. After fours hours of jogging, he determined the group was composed of ten trogs and two geks.
Stopping to take account of the situation, he thought, “This does not look good. Crossmore must have some unsavory plan in mind. They are moving faster than I had anticipated. At this rate it will take me half a day to catch them. I must hurry!”
Late in the afternoon the unit turned west into the trees. Coaldon feared they were heading toward the dwarf community. He considered, “If the dwarf community is to the west, they could be attacked. I should offer my assistance.”
Elsewhere, the newly formed dwarf community was hiking toward the City of Rockham. The two dwarves clans had blended into one community with little trouble or hesitation. Their long separation did not offer any barriers to their union as one people. The journey offered time for the dwarves to share their unique histories. Understanding and cooperation developed on a person-by-person basis.
Norbert and Magee demonstrated robust fortitude by enduring the harsh conditions of war and travel. The two soft palace residents had been transformed into tough outdoorsmen with a strong sense of independence. Their gentle character was helpful in creating an environment of trust between the clan members. They gained the respect of the dwarves by working with the children, elderly and wounded.
As for Noel, her life of imprisonment in the palace helped her appreciate the need for cooperation and freedom. She was learning that true power was based on giving, not receiving; cooperation, not controlling; and understanding, not dominance. Even though Noel had the potential to successfully accomplish many things, she showed little common sense for surviving outside the walls of the palace. With youthful optimism, Noel was convinced she could survive most situations with the skills she recently gained.
On a particular evening, the camp had been set for the night and everyone warned to stay within the camp perimeter. Small groups of trogs had been seen during the day. It was early in the evening when Noel decided to go for a walk. Confident there was no real danger, she followed a small, noisy stream east through the forest toward the grassy savanna. It would not be dark for an hour so she felt she had plenty of time before returning to camp.
She found it delightful to be by herself. Enjoying the peace of the moment, she threw her arms out, turning in a wide circle. The sound of the rippling stream and the chatter of the forest animals filled her senses with peace. She shouted, “This is a wonderful day!”
With eyes on the setting sun, she started to walk back to the camp. As she entered a dense grove of trees, she felt a chill go through her body. She realized the sound of forest creatures had stopped. The blanket of unnatural quietness made it difficult for her to breath. Her half elf senses screamed with alarm. Turning, she began to run wildly through the forest. Before she took twenty steps, she was knocked to the ground by a blow to her head. She did not remember anything until hearing guttural voices arguing. A small fire revealed trogs and geks sitting under the ledge of a stone embankment. The light of the fire, illuminated the swarthy, distorted faces of her captives. The odor of their dirty, slimy bodies was overwhelming. Nausea gripped her stomach.
She listened to a loud debate. “She must be the one.”
“No! If she is, why would she be roaming in the forest?” “Maybe, she’s stupid.”
“Lord Crossmore would want to know that we have captured a human female.”
“I do not want to mess with her. She is so ugly. She makes me feel ill.” “The only way I like man flesh is dead. Ah! Ah! Ah!”
“We will be heroes if she is the one.”
“Lord Crossmore will bestow great prestige upon those who capture her.”
“Go ahead and report her to Lord Crossmore, but if she is not the one, I get to kill her.”
“You have a deal.”
“I will contact Lord Crossmore. He will soon be here.”
Upon hearing this, Noel screamed, “You cannot do this to me!” A gruff voice commanded, “Keep her quiet.”
Out of no where, a rough hand slapped her across the face. “That should shut her revolting mouth.”
A burst of resentment boiled inside Noel. The shock of the blow sparked the release of a mysterious dormant power. Noel felt a new strength awaken deep within her being. A surge of energy vibrated through every fiber of her body. At first she was frightened by the intensity of this newly awakened attribute. Later, the rush of excitement melted away into a pleasant sense of confidence. It was not long before she heard a rush of air enter the camp. Looking around, she saw the trogs and geks bowing with their foreheads touching the ground. Their heads were pointed toward the shimmering image of Crossmore. They did not move out of fear of triggering his wrath. The link between Crossmore’s image and his physical presence in Neverly was inseparable. He was equally present in both places.
He smiled, proclaiming, “What a pleasant surprise! It is with devotion to your beauty, I am pleased to once again greet you. I have missed you. I was saddened when you were captured by my enemies. Now, everything is all right.”
With contempt she responded, “I was rescued, not captured. I was happy to escape from you.”
With a gentle smile, he responded, “You are so beautiful when angry. You are now free from your enemies and safe with me. They have lied to you. You can now return to the protection of the palace. I will take good care of you, my dear.”
In revulsion she exploded, “Go away! Leave me alone! I do not want to go to the palace!”
In a soothing voice, he swooned, “I must be firm with you for your own good. You need a strong hand to guide you. Some day you will thank me.”
His reaching-hand firmly grabbed her by the arm. When he was ready to pull her across the boundaries of time and space back to the palace, a jolt of resistance broke the authority of his grip. She had resisted his magic by her own will. With command, he declared, “So, you have gained new powers. Like any good parent, I need to demonstrate my authority over you.”
Noel gasped in pain when Crossmore once again grabbed her arm. He increased the force of his magic to control her. Once again she was able to resist his commands. Their struggle of wills lasted until Crossmore backed off to reconsider his strategy.
With anger in his voice, he proclaimed, “My child, the game is now over. You will now join me in Neverly.” Noel was not prepared to suffer the grip of Crossmore’s full power. Like a flood of red hot pain, she felt his anger. In agony, she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Before he could complete the transfer of Noel to Neverly, he was struck by a raging bolt of energy. The searing heat of the assault burned deeply into his being. Releasing his hold on Noel, he turned to face the source of the attack. Coaldon stood with his legs in a defensive stance and his sword in the ready position.
Crossmore stated, “It is nice to have a family gathering even under such difficult circumstances. You misunderstand what I am doing. I have come to help Noel gain a better life. She is meant to live in the luxury in Neverly. Do you want to join us?”
Coaldon could barely control the anger throbbing in his body. His rage poured into his sword. Surges of blue flame rolled around its tip, creating a resonating thunder.
In an attempt to gain the advantage, Crossmore suddenly raised his hand to attack. His attempt was quickly met by Coaldon’s retaliation. A sizzling, cracking blast of energy ripped from the tip of the sword with the intensity of Coaldon’s anger. The power of the strike violently slammed Crossmore into the stone embankment. Coaldon experienced the burning desire to destroy Crossmore. He wanted to punish him for all the evil he created in the Empire. He would show no mercy.
Without thinking, he released another blast
of lighting. It struck Crossmore with such force that his life force nearly collapsed. Crossmore had never experienced such pain in his long life. Coaldon’s hatred multiplied the power of the sword.
Awaking, Noel watched the battle between Coaldon and Crossmore with amazement. She was stunned by the aura of energy filling the area. At first she was numbed, but quickly recognized Coaldon’s great danger. She was transfixed watching Coaldon’s uncontrolled anger.
Noel said to herself, “Coaldon has become that which he has dedicated to conquer. Crossmore has infected him with his deadly poison. I cannot allow Crossmore to destroy him. Coaldon would win the battle, but lose the war. Crossmore might die, but he would return in the embodiment of Coaldon’s failure”.
Coaldon was ready to make the fatal blow when Noel’s voice interceded.
He heard, “Coaldon, this is not the way to respond. Anger will only create more anger. Your hatred will only be a stain on your life. Do not darken your soul by allowing revenge to control you. Your justice will only invalidate the gifts you have been given. Please, for our sake, allow life to claim its own justice.”
The darkness of his anger yielded to Noel’s voice. Like the rush of a strong wind, Coaldon was drawn back into the reality of the moment. He struggled to release himself from the rage attaching him to Crossmore. Noel’s words drew his attention to his great peril. He had been on the verge of self destruction. With determination, he slowly released his cramped grip on the sword. As the sword fell to the ground, he collapsed into the shadows of an empty cavern. A swirl of unrecognizable images streamed through the endless space of his mind. At first, he tried to gain control of the passing events, but was soon overwhelmed. It was impossible to manage the unimaginable volume of events rushing passed him. He either submitted to the providence of life or face unrelenting pain. His mind and body relaxed as he yielded to the will of destiny. Peace then surrounded him with a warm glow.
Assuming he was dead, Crossmore floated in a dark void. Then with a gasp of pain, he was thrown into the wall of his chamber in the West Tower. He lay for hours before he could move. In a weak voice, he stated, “She saved my life. There remains hope for me.”
After a pause he whispered to himself, “My enemy is very strong. He will need to die before Noel can be my reward.”
The energy enveloping the area of the battle quickly evaporated. The cloud of heaviness and fear dissolved into the mist of the early morning light. The trogs and geks did not want to become the focus of Coaldon’s wrath. With shouts of panic, they charged into the undergrowth. The noise of their crashing through the forest soon melted into sounds of the new day. A brisk morning breeze rustling through the trees blended into the rippling sounds of the cascading stream and the chirping of many birds.
Coaldon was awakened by a touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Noel’s smiling face. As he slowly sat up, he recognized the stone embankment where he battled Crossmore. To his surprise, he was greeted by Pacer, Topple and Earthkin. In a feeble voice he said, “You are a welcome sight. I am happy to find you, rather than the trog army.”
Looking at his three companions, he asked, “How did you find us?”
Earthkin followed, “I will tell you the story at a later date. Right now, we must hurry. The trogs may return with reinforcements.”
While eating a meal, Coaldon briefly told the story of his adventure.
He concluded, “I have never experienced such anger. The thought of Crossmore taking Noel to Neverly was more than I could handle. My emotions magnified the power of the sword. I hope this is the last time I lose control of myself. It was Noel who saved me. I am happy to be here.”
Pacer stated, “I do not think Crossmore will take his next encounter with you lightly. I am greatly relieved to have both of you back with us.”
Topple injected, “I heard the rumble of your sword and felt the blast of your attack. It was wise not to have killed him. I believe he would be more dangerous dead than alive. Hopefully this will slow down his plans for conquest. We need more time to find the Key of Ban and prepare for war.”
Earthkin declared, “Both of you must be more careful. You are important to the future of the Empire. We could socialize for a long time, but we must catch up with the Clans. We have spent a full day looking for our lost sheep.”
With long strides, Pacer led the way. After a long trek, the small group intercepted the dwarves. The clan rejoiced when the tired group joined the caravan. Sid and Coaldon had a rousing reunion including the usual excitement and rough play. The story of Coaldon’s and Noel’s exploits rapidly spread through the dwarves’ camp.
After several days of traveling, the end of the journey could be seen in the mountains towering over the Echo Valley. The entrance into the underground City of Rockham was located in a long, narrow valley providing a buffer of protection.
Noel and Coaldon were invited to be part of the greeting party representing the Empire. The closer the clans came to their destination, the more excitement bubbled among the travelers. A cloud of dust on the horizon was the first sign of people in the area. To everyone’s surprise they saw four horses galloping toward them. Only vague outlines of the riders could be detected at this distance. A mood of anticipation and exhilaration gripped each person in the procession. The ordeal was almost over.
The four riders dismounted, walked forward and waited in the bright afternoon sun. Coaldon made out the outline of two humans (one male and one female), one dwarf, and one elf. Coaldon had been excited about arriving at the city but remained rather passive about this meeting.
This attitude changed when he recognized three of the people waiting for them. Without hesitation he grabbed Noel’s hand without thinking. He ran forward in long strides, dragging Noel along like a rag doll. He enthusiastically greeted his grandparents in an embrace. While this reunion was taking place, Noel stood at an uncomfortable distance waiting to be introduced. Coaldon finally came to his senses, turned to Noel and invited her to join in the celebration.
As Noel stepped forward, Coaldon said, “Noel, I introduce you to your grandparents Brad and Ingrid.” At this moment, nothing more could be said. After the initial glory of the celebration passed, it was time to draw other people into the circle.
In a formal fashion, Grandfather Brad turned to Coaldon and Noel saying, “I introduce to you Starhood the Elf, Grand Advisor to the Elfdom of Talltree and father to Princess Starglide.”
Coaldon was caught by surprise at the stately introduction of Starhood. His mind was so consumed by the emotions of the reunion it took several moments for the introduction to register. Coaldon became silent and motionless as he struggled to comprehend the full meaning of his grandfather’s words. The veil of confusion finally parted with a burst of understanding. Like a bright light erupting in the darkness, he grasped the simple words of his grandfather. His body became rigid as he looked at Starhood and then at his grandfather.
Coaldon blurted out, “Did you say that Starhood was the father of Starglide?” Grandfather Brad responded, “Yes, you are correct.”
In childish innocence Coaldon stuttered, “Starglide was my mother. Th - th - then Starhood is my grandfather.”
Grandfather Brad responded, “Yes, you are again correct. I am sorry we have kept this secret from you. We did not want to overload you with information at your birthday party. Please accept my apology.”
Coaldon and Noel stood in a state of paralysis as their thoughts absorbed the new information. Then, like the release of an arrow, they both shot forward to greet Starhood with unrestrained emotions. Coaldon and Noel were not just blessed, but were double blessed. The celebration of their family consumed them for the rest of the day. As they basked in the glow of their happiness, they were only vaguely aware of the events culminating in their arrival at the City of Rockham.
The fourth person of the greeting party was the Lord Shortshaft, head of the Rockham Council of Clans. His short, broad, muscular body outlined his long, gray b
eard, deep penetrating eyes and face of cavernous wrinkles. The quiet power of his self-confident, calm presence and dignified poise radiated with the wisdom of ages.
The long procession of the Hardstone Clan and warriors snaked into Echo Valley. The entrance to the valley was a narrow bottleneck leading to the doorway into Rockham. The tall, massive wall guarding the mouth of the valley was constructed of large blocks of white granite. The outside surface of the wall was perfectly smooth and reflected sunshine like a mirror. The large metal gates in the center of the wall were so skillfully crafted they could be opened by one person. The black, hard metal of the gate had been forged deep in the mountain. The metal would resist any known force of nature or magic.
After the procession passed through the gate, it proceeded to the end of the valley. A large crowd of Rockham citizens greeted them with solemn and stately respect. In silence, Hardstone Clan remained separated from the people of Rockham. The blast of a trumpet, the roll of a drum and the cry of a sorrowful voice declared a time of mourning. Before a reunion could take place, it was the tradition of the community to mourn the dwarves who died in battle.
Earthkin, Rolfe and Lord Shortshaft walked forward in slow, somber steps into the space separating the two groups. In loud, clear voices Lord Shortshaft and Rolfe took turns naming the warriors who died in battle. When they finished, a spontaneous, loud, mournful cry of grief erupted from the dwarf communities. A cloud of despair extended for a long period of time. Death was never easy to face and reconcile. After the grief had been released, a slow beat from the drum was accompanied by the chant of a deep male voice. The chant told the stories of great warriors who died protecting the clan.
When the chanting had ended, Topple stepped forward with his flute in hand. As if standing in the silence of death, he played the flute with feeling and reverence. The tone of the flute both caressed and enthralled the members of the community as if overcome by the very essence of divinity. The melody of the songs wove a tapestry of peace into the hearts of everyone sharing in this time of grief. When Topple finished playing, the mourners awoke from a cloud of enchantment and allowed healing to grip their souls. Then in a voice of authority Lord Shortshaft declared, “We have honored the dead, now it is time for the living to live. Let us rejoice in the blessings of life.”
The two groups then merged into a single community. Family members greeted family members; strangers welcomed strangers; friends embraced friends. The celebration continued as food and drink were loaded onto large tables near the entrance into the mountain. The Council of Clans decided to hold the reunion in the valley as a neutral ground for the two groups to meet and share.
As the festivities continued, Coaldon threw off the burden of worry and concern. He was enjoying the sense of security offered by his new environment. As the festivities grew to an end, Topple approached Coaldon with a sly smile on his face.
He giggled as he said, “Are you ready?”
Coaldon with a puzzled look on his face responded, “Am I ready for what?” Topple pointed to the sky saying, “Up there! Are you ready?” Coaldon looked into the sky, but only saw a beautiful sunset in the western sky. He looked at Topple with irritation etched on his face.
Coaldon continued, “I do not understand what you are talking about!”
In a dramatic fashion, Topple looked into the sky and waved his arms in a wide circle over his head.
He then looked at Coaldon, saying, “Are you ready? If you are not, I recommend you get ready.”
At that, Topple fluttered away into the crowd like a butterfly looking for a flower to visit. Coaldon was faced with the frustrating dilemma of what to do. He knew Topple did not play games when it came to warning people about an upcoming event. He debated if he should continue to mingle in the crowd or be alert to possible danger. He became restless, so he walked away from the crowd and into an open space in the middle of the valley. Without realizing what he was doing, he withdrew his sword from the scabbard. He acted out of instinct. A hush came over the community as one person after another became aware of Coaldon’s unusual actions. Coaldon was joined by his companions in anticipation of the unknown occurrence.
The orange and yellow colors of the sunset were suddenly replaced by churning, billowing, black storm clouds. These clouds did not move like a normal storm, but rushed toward the valley as if directed by magic. When the swirling cloud covered the valley, a clap of thunder introduced the approaching presence of evil. A black gloved hand reached from the cloud creating panic among the dwarves. Without hesitation, most clan members rushed into the safety of the tunnels.
It was not long before the valley was only occupied by a small contingent of dwarves, wizards and humans. Crossmore’s booming voice echoed off the steep walls of the valley, saying, “My, you look so nice and cozy. Unfortunately, you are not nearly as safe as you might think. My army will soon visit you. Ah! Ah! Ah! Seeing all of you together is such a disappointment. You look like helpless rats captured in a trap. Noel, you disappoint me. You have made a poor choice. I will change your mind. Just wait and see.”
Changing his attention, Crossmore thundered, “Badda, why did you leave me? I miss you. I welcome you with the open arms of a loving father. Please join me.” In fear and trembling, Bobby yelled, “I am no longer your property! I am my own person! I do not want to be your slave!”
In a sweet voice, Crossmore answered, “Your mind has been corrupted by the false whispers of your companions. Do not believe them! They are only using you for their own selfish purposes. You will be safe with me.”
A shadow of doubt crossed Bobby’s face as he looked at Coaldon and Topple with suspicion. Crossmore’s enticing words were enchanting Bobby’s mind. Bobby struggled to determine whom he could trust. Finally, Bobby raised his head, straightened his back and faced Crossmore.
He yelled, “Leave me alone! I will die before I become your servant!”
With a tone of frustration and anger, Crossmore declared, “Badda, I will grant your wish!”
As his black-gloved hand reached toward Bobby, Topple raised his hand to challenge him. Crossmore’s hand froze in mid-air. The air in the valley pulsed and throbbed as Topple and Crossmore confronted each other in a battle of wills. Like combat between two giants, the opposing forces clashed against each other. The battle of magic grew into a stalemate. With a sudden release, Crossmore pulled his hand away from the battle for Bobby.
In a booming voice, Crossmore said to Topple, “Little man, you are determined. I am amazed you waste your time and energy on this pathetic group of rubbish. Your greatness is way beyond the character of these lowly creatures. It must be difficult to tolerate such common and depraved people. You are welcome to join me in fulfilling the fate of the Empire.”
Topple only looked at him with an empty expression of boredom. Words were not necessary to reveal his answer.
Crossmore turned his attention to Coaldon. As Crossmore observed Coaldon, he laughed, saying, “You have caused mischief across the Empire. After our last encounter you must feel important and powerful. You need to realize, I allowed you to look good for the sake of your sister. I was in full control all the time. In truth, your worthless sword is only a meaningless toy. I permitted you to experience false hope. It humors me to see you take such pride in yourself. Ah! Ah! Ah! I find you disgusting. There is no glory in the performance of your pitiful tricks. I will enjoy punishing you for interfering with me.”
Coaldon controlled his emotions as Crossmore belittled him. With calm deliberation, he allowed the sword to sizzle and rattle with energy. A red glow charged the end of the sword. Coaldon would not attack the wizard out of resentment or anger. He did not want to fall into Crossmore’s trap of answering evil with evil. The glow from the Blade of Conquest forced Crossmore to retreat from an encounter with Coaldon. He was seeking to find a weakness in the armor of his opponents, not to suffer the pain of Coaldon’s attack.
Crossmore then turned to Brad who was carefully listening
to Crossmore’s words. The wizard said to him, “I am surprised you would waste your time challenging me. You have proven you are incapable of being emperor. Your weakness was demonstrated when you allowed Wastelow the Miserable to assume the throne. If you could not even withstand Wastelow’s feeble powers, how can you expect to conquer a Lord of my stature and supremacy? You are weak and you will always be weak. Go away, little child and play with your toys, because you are no match for me. In the future you will not be dealing with me, but rather with my magnificent army. You shall taste the bitter fruits of your battle against me. It will be better for you to hide like a cowardly creature rather than face me. I will find you and destroy you. Until we met again, may you properly anticipate the agony I have prepared for you.”
In a flash, the black cloud and the hand disappeared from the sky. Only silence remained. The impact of Crossmore’s visit was both enlightening and frightening. Any romantic visions of easily defeating Crossmore dissolved like salt in water.
They walked off the field knowing the war had only just begun.
As the group ventured into the entrance to Rockham, Coaldon declared, “United we stand, divided we fail. We must work together to regain our freedom. It is our duty to find the Key of Ban. The Key of Ban will be the doorway to conquering the forces of evil.”
the end
His view from this position was spell-binding. The aimless movement of trogs reminded him of ants. They darted this way and that way with motion seeming to be the determining force. As he watched this ballet-of-bafflement, the uniqueness of his situation became obvious. Even the rank odor and filthy appearance of the trogs did not interfere with his fascination. Mesmerized, he continued to watch until he once again heard the beating of the war drum.
It was apparent a new Royal Gek had taken control. The trogs lost their distracted appearance and started to move in definite directions. The eyes of the beasts became alert and focused on fulfilling their mission.From his perch in the tree, he watched the beasts moving toward the south end of the meadow.
He questioned “Why are the trogs moving away from the canyon? Maybe the horns were from the dwarf army arriving from Rockham.”
Climbing higher into the tree, he saw the wall in the canyon had been breached and the dwarves were no longer in the canyon.
“Isn’t this interesting? I must find a way to rejoin my friends. I assume they will be traveling south and the trog army will be pursuing them. I could conceal myself as a gek in the middle of the army. Later, I can escape.”
He pulled a soggy piece of bread from his pocket and ate it with relish. With renewed strength, he was ready to go.
Dropping from the tree, he followed several trogs to a meeting point for their regimental unit. Upon arriving, the trogs were hastily organized into rows and columns. A roar of excitement arose from the trogs when their master gave the command to begin marching. The unit trotted toward the south, chanting depraved war songs.
After several suspicious glances from trogs, Coaldon decided he needed to be more realistic in playing the role of a gek. So with a look of authority, he assumed an official stance. He walked with his shoulders back, head high and a look of determination. To reinforce this aura of dominance, he asserted himself by moving with an arrogant swagger. His conceited stride demonstrated he was ready to fight anybody who might challenge his authority. With his sword in hand, he jogged in formation with the army.
Coaldon knew from past experience the dwarves would be setting a series of ambushes. The dense trees and underbrush were ideal for the dwarves’ hit and run fighting style. After several hours of marching, he heard the clash of the first ambush. The blast of horns was followed by the savage war cries of the dwarf attackers. The clash of metal and the scream of dying beasts ended as suddenly as it began. One ambush after another continued for hours. The sounds of the ambushes came at different locations along the front of the trogs’ advance.
Coaldon noticed the beasts slowed to a walk. The soldiers were showing growing signs of uneasiness at the possibility of being ambushed. The trogs were anxious because they could not see their opponents. Their agitation increased as the sounds of unseen battles grew closer.
The trog unit Coaldon was following finally blundered into an ambush. He was conveniently located at the rear of the troop when the sound of horns introduced the dwarves’ attack. The lethal assault was so sudden and violent, the beasts fought with bewilderment and incompetence. Coaldon was not prepared for the retreating herd of trogs stampeding toward him. He had to turn and run or be trampled under foot. This confusion offered him the opportunity to blend into the underbrush. He decided it was a good time to escape. He chose to move east toward the coast to hide from the probing eyes of the geks.
He debated if he should remove his yellow robe. If he took it off the trogs might kill him. If he left it on the dwarves might attack him. Weighing the advantages and disadvantages, he decided to remove it. He would be more obscure by showing his own earth colored clothes. He used the primitive strategy of dodge-and-hide to avoid contact with the trog army. Several times he was only steps away from geks looking for retreating trogs but managed to remain concealed. After several hours of evasive actions, he was free of the geks.
As the darkness covered the land, he found a small creek bed cut deep into a gully. Crawling under a large pine tree, he slept. With hunger becoming a concern, he spent an uncomfortable night. Wild images kept ravaging his slumber. Tossing and turning in his sleep, he dreamt he was desperately struggling to escape from a watery tomb. The grave of churning water held him tightly on a journey down a raging river. He saw his hands thrashing to grab an object just out of his reach. Over and over he attempted to grab the elusive thing dangling before him. With his lungs exploding for the need of air, he saw the hand of death reaching for him. Erupting from the dream, he found his hands gripping a branch over his head. Sweat soaked his clothes.
In relief, he listened to the soothing sounds of the night. The first crickets of spring joined the animals and insects of the forest as they sang the serenade of life. Unable to stay awake, he drifted into a second dream. This time he found himself in a crowded building surround by many grotesque creatures. Their reaching hands began to tear at his flesh. By pushing and shoving, he was able to race ahead of their pursuit. With gasping breaths, he climbed a tall tree. The beasts’ eyes were suddenly drawn away from him and toward an enemy on the horizon. Losing his balance, he fell from the tree, tumbling out-of-control. Looking down he saw grotesque creatures stampeding after an obscure prey. In an attempt to escape from falling, he spread his arms. To his relief, he began to fly over the top of the forest with unbelievable freedom. He dived, rolled and soared through the air with the majesty of a great eagle. The elation ended when he saw Noel running to escape from the claws of a giant monster. Noel was in a state of terror. With fear gripping her face, she looked up at him. He heard her pleading for help. Finally, out of exhaustion she tripped and fell to the ground. The monster picked her up and laughed with great satisfaction.
Exploding from his dream, Coaldon felt uncontainable anger and hatred. Never in his short life had he ever experienced such extreme emotions. He calmed himself by saying, “I have more important things to do than be concerned over silly dreams. It is more urgent I find food. I remember the dwarves of Lost Valley showing me how to find gopher roots. Eating these roots could keep me alive. I gain nothing by sitting here and talking to myself.”
The light of the new day helped bring hope back into his life. The misery of the night was soon washed away by the healing power of the sun.
Fair weather accompanied his journey. At first, dense foliage and fallen trees made it difficult for him to make his way south. It was not until the evening of the first day that the forest opened into a broad coastal savanna. The tall grass plain was interspersed with many groves of trees. Over many centuries, the weather and water created gentle rolling hills. He was happy to be able to find an ample supply of gopher roots. Fortunately, the bitter tasting roots satisfied his hunger.
The second and third days went by without any concerns. Coaldon enjoyed this time of freedom and the beauty of the savanna. The wind blew the tall grass in waves across the expanse of rolling hills.
While munching on a gopher root, he thought, “I believe the dwarves will escape from the trogs. The hit and run attack strategy is very effective. It will not be long before the trogs will give up. Yet, this is only the beginning of the real war. The events of the past few weeks have confirmed to me the need to take bold action against Crossmore. We must find the Key of Ban. I do not believe we have the resources to conquer Crossmore without help. Using the Key of Ban seems to be the only way we can overcome his evil power.”
Looking to the west he asked, “I wonder if Noel and my friends are all right.” On the fourth day, while enjoying the early morning sun, he detected movement on the western slopes of the savanna. A small group of travelers was rapidly moving south along the boundary
Stopping to take account of the situation, he thought, “This does not look good. Crossmore must have some unsavory plan in mind. They are moving faster than I had anticipated. At this rate it will take me half a day to catch them. I must hurry!”
Late in the afternoon the unit turned west into the trees. Coaldon feared they were heading toward the dwarf community. He considered, “If the dwarf community is to the west, they could be attacked. I should offer my assistance.”
Elsewhere, the newly formed dwarf community was hiking toward the City of Rockham. The two dwarves clans had blended into one community with little trouble or hesitation. Their long separation did not offer any barriers to their union as one people. The journey offered time for the dwarves to share their unique histories. Understanding and cooperation developed on a person-by-person basis.
Norbert and Magee demonstrated robust fortitude by enduring the harsh conditions of war and travel. The two soft palace residents had been transformed into tough outdoorsmen with a strong sense of independence. Their gentle character was helpful in creating an environment of trust between the clan members. They gained the respect of the dwarves by working with the children, elderly and wounded.
As for Noel, her life of imprisonment in the palace helped her appreciate the need for cooperation and freedom. She was learning that true power was based on giving, not receiving; cooperation, not controlling; and understanding, not dominance. Even though Noel had the potential to successfully accomplish many things, she showed little common sense for surviving outside the walls of the palace. With youthful optimism, Noel was convinced she could survive most situations with the skills she recently gained.
On a particular evening, the camp had been set for the night and everyone warned to stay within the camp perimeter. Small groups of trogs had been seen during the day. It was early in the evening when Noel decided to go for a walk. Confident there was no real danger, she followed a small, noisy stream east through the forest toward the grassy savanna. It would not be dark for an hour so she felt she had plenty of time before returning to camp.
She found it delightful to be by herself. Enjoying the peace of the moment, she threw her arms out, turning in a wide circle. The sound of the rippling stream and the chatter of the forest animals filled her senses with peace. She shouted, “This is a wonderful day!”
With eyes on the setting sun, she started to walk back to the camp. As she entered a dense grove of trees, she felt a chill go through her body. She realized the sound of forest creatures had stopped. The blanket of unnatural quietness made it difficult for her to breath. Her half elf senses screamed with alarm. Turning, she began to run wildly through the forest. Before she took twenty steps, she was knocked to the ground by a blow to her head. She did not remember anything until hearing guttural voices arguing. A small fire revealed trogs and geks sitting under the ledge of a stone embankment. The light of the fire, illuminated the swarthy, distorted faces of her captives. The odor of their dirty, slimy bodies was overwhelming. Nausea gripped her stomach.
She listened to a loud debate. “She must be the one.”
“No! If she is, why would she be roaming in the forest?” “Maybe, she’s stupid.”
“Lord Crossmore would want to know that we have captured a human female.”
“I do not want to mess with her. She is so ugly. She makes me feel ill.” “The only way I like man flesh is dead. Ah! Ah! Ah!”
“We will be heroes if she is the one.”
“Lord Crossmore will bestow great prestige upon those who capture her.”
“Go ahead and report her to Lord Crossmore, but if she is not the one, I get to kill her.”
“You have a deal.”
“I will contact Lord Crossmore. He will soon be here.”
Upon hearing this, Noel screamed, “You cannot do this to me!” A gruff voice commanded, “Keep her quiet.”
Out of no where, a rough hand slapped her across the face. “That should shut her revolting mouth.”
A burst of resentment boiled inside Noel. The shock of the blow sparked the release of a mysterious dormant power. Noel felt a new strength awaken deep within her being. A surge of energy vibrated through every fiber of her body. At first she was frightened by the intensity of this newly awakened attribute. Later, the rush of excitement melted away into a pleasant sense of confidence. It was not long before she heard a rush of air enter the camp. Looking around, she saw the trogs and geks bowing with their foreheads touching the ground. Their heads were pointed toward the shimmering image of Crossmore. They did not move out of fear of triggering his wrath. The link between Crossmore’s image and his physical presence in Neverly was inseparable. He was equally present in both places.
He smiled, proclaiming, “What a pleasant surprise! It is with devotion to your beauty, I am pleased to once again greet you. I have missed you. I was saddened when you were captured by my enemies. Now, everything is all right.”
With contempt she responded, “I was rescued, not captured. I was happy to escape from you.”
With a gentle smile, he responded, “You are so beautiful when angry. You are now free from your enemies and safe with me. They have lied to you. You can now return to the protection of the palace. I will take good care of you, my dear.”
In revulsion she exploded, “Go away! Leave me alone! I do not want to go to the palace!”
In a soothing voice, he swooned, “I must be firm with you for your own good. You need a strong hand to guide you. Some day you will thank me.”
His reaching-hand firmly grabbed her by the arm. When he was ready to pull her across the boundaries of time and space back to the palace, a jolt of resistance broke the authority of his grip. She had resisted his magic by her own will. With command, he declared, “So, you have gained new powers. Like any good parent, I need to demonstrate my authority over you.”
Noel gasped in pain when Crossmore once again grabbed her arm. He increased the force of his magic to control her. Once again she was able to resist his commands. Their struggle of wills lasted until Crossmore backed off to reconsider his strategy.
With anger in his voice, he proclaimed, “My child, the game is now over. You will now join me in Neverly.” Noel was not prepared to suffer the grip of Crossmore’s full power. Like a flood of red hot pain, she felt his anger. In agony, she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Before he could complete the transfer of Noel to Neverly, he was struck by a raging bolt of energy. The searing heat of the assault burned deeply into his being. Releasing his hold on Noel, he turned to face the source of the attack. Coaldon stood with his legs in a defensive stance and his sword in the ready position.
Crossmore stated, “It is nice to have a family gathering even under such difficult circumstances. You misunderstand what I am doing. I have come to help Noel gain a better life. She is meant to live in the luxury in Neverly. Do you want to join us?”
Coaldon could barely control the anger throbbing in his body. His rage poured into his sword. Surges of blue flame rolled around its tip, creating a resonating thunder.
In an attempt to gain the advantage, Crossmore suddenly raised his hand to attack. His attempt was quickly met by Coaldon’s retaliation. A sizzling, cracking blast of energy ripped from the tip of the sword with the intensity of Coaldon’s anger. The power of the strike violently slammed Crossmore into the stone embankment. Coaldon experienced the burning desire to destroy Crossmore. He wanted to punish him for all the evil he created in the Empire. He would show no mercy.
Without thinking, he released another blast
Awaking, Noel watched the battle between Coaldon and Crossmore with amazement. She was stunned by the aura of energy filling the area. At first she was numbed, but quickly recognized Coaldon’s great danger. She was transfixed watching Coaldon’s uncontrolled anger.
Noel said to herself, “Coaldon has become that which he has dedicated to conquer. Crossmore has infected him with his deadly poison. I cannot allow Crossmore to destroy him. Coaldon would win the battle, but lose the war. Crossmore might die, but he would return in the embodiment of Coaldon’s failure”.
Coaldon was ready to make the fatal blow when Noel’s voice interceded.
He heard, “Coaldon, this is not the way to respond. Anger will only create more anger. Your hatred will only be a stain on your life. Do not darken your soul by allowing revenge to control you. Your justice will only invalidate the gifts you have been given. Please, for our sake, allow life to claim its own justice.”
The darkness of his anger yielded to Noel’s voice. Like the rush of a strong wind, Coaldon was drawn back into the reality of the moment. He struggled to release himself from the rage attaching him to Crossmore. Noel’s words drew his attention to his great peril. He had been on the verge of self destruction. With determination, he slowly released his cramped grip on the sword. As the sword fell to the ground, he collapsed into the shadows of an empty cavern. A swirl of unrecognizable images streamed through the endless space of his mind. At first, he tried to gain control of the passing events, but was soon overwhelmed. It was impossible to manage the unimaginable volume of events rushing passed him. He either submitted to the providence of life or face unrelenting pain. His mind and body relaxed as he yielded to the will of destiny. Peace then surrounded him with a warm glow.
Assuming he was dead, Crossmore floated in a dark void. Then with a gasp of pain, he was thrown into the wall of his chamber in the West Tower. He lay for hours before he could move. In a weak voice, he stated, “She saved my life. There remains hope for me.”
After a pause he whispered to himself, “My enemy is very strong. He will need to die before Noel can be my reward.”
The energy enveloping the area of the battle quickly evaporated. The cloud of heaviness and fear dissolved into the mist of the early morning light. The trogs and geks did not want to become the focus of Coaldon’s wrath. With shouts of panic, they charged into the undergrowth. The noise of their crashing through the forest soon melted into sounds of the new day. A brisk morning breeze rustling through the trees blended into the rippling sounds of the cascading stream and the chirping of many birds.
Coaldon was awakened by a touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Noel’s smiling face. As he slowly sat up, he recognized the stone embankment where he battled Crossmore. To his surprise, he was greeted by Pacer, Topple and Earthkin. In a feeble voice he said, “You are a welcome sight. I am happy to find you, rather than the trog army.”
Looking at his three companions, he asked, “How did you find us?”
Earthkin followed, “I will tell you the story at a later date. Right now, we must hurry. The trogs may return with reinforcements.”
While eating a meal, Coaldon briefly told the story of his adventure.
He concluded, “I have never experienced such anger. The thought of Crossmore taking Noel to Neverly was more than I could handle. My emotions magnified the power of the sword. I hope this is the last time I lose control of myself. It was Noel who saved me. I am happy to be here.”
Pacer stated, “I do not think Crossmore will take his next encounter with you lightly. I am greatly relieved to have both of you back with us.”
Topple injected, “I heard the rumble of your sword and felt the blast of your attack. It was wise not to have killed him. I believe he would be more dangerous dead than alive. Hopefully this will slow down his plans for conquest. We need more time to find the Key of Ban and prepare for war.”
Earthkin declared, “Both of you must be more careful. You are important to the future of the Empire. We could socialize for a long time, but we must catch up with the Clans. We have spent a full day looking for our lost sheep.”
With long strides, Pacer led the way. After a long trek, the small group intercepted the dwarves. The clan rejoiced when the tired group joined the caravan. Sid and Coaldon had a rousing reunion including the usual excitement and rough play. The story of Coaldon’s and Noel’s exploits rapidly spread through the dwarves’ camp.
After several days of traveling, the end of the journey could be seen in the mountains towering over the Echo Valley. The entrance into the underground City of Rockham was located in a long, narrow valley providing a buffer of protection.
Noel and Coaldon were invited to be part of the greeting party representing the Empire. The closer the clans came to their destination, the more excitement bubbled among the travelers. A cloud of dust on the horizon was the first sign of people in the area. To everyone’s surprise they saw four horses galloping toward them. Only vague outlines of the riders could be detected at this distance. A mood of anticipation and exhilaration gripped each person in the procession. The ordeal was almost over.
The four riders dismounted, walked forward and waited in the bright afternoon sun. Coaldon made out the outline of two humans (one male and one female), one dwarf, and one elf. Coaldon had been excited about arriving at the city but remained rather passive about this meeting.
This attitude changed when he recognized three of the people waiting for them. Without hesitation he grabbed Noel’s hand without thinking. He ran forward in long strides, dragging Noel along like a rag doll. He enthusiastically greeted his grandparents in an embrace. While this reunion was taking place, Noel stood at an uncomfortable distance waiting to be introduced. Coaldon finally came to his senses, turned to Noel and invited her to join in the celebration.
As Noel stepped forward, Coaldon said, “Noel, I introduce you to your grandparents Brad and Ingrid.” At this moment, nothing more could be said. After the initial glory of the celebration passed, it was time to draw other people into the circle.
In a formal fashion, Grandfather Brad turned to Coaldon and Noel saying, “I introduce to you Starhood the Elf, Grand Advisor to the Elfdom of Talltree and father to Princess Starglide.”
Coaldon was caught by surprise at the stately introduction of Starhood. His mind was so consumed by the emotions of the reunion it took several moments for the introduction to register. Coaldon became silent and motionless as he struggled to comprehend the full meaning of his grandfather’s words. The veil of confusion finally parted with a burst of understanding. Like a bright light erupting in the darkness, he grasped the simple words of his grandfather. His body became rigid as he looked at Starhood and then at his grandfather.
Coaldon blurted out, “Did you say that Starhood was the father of Starglide?” Grandfather Brad responded, “Yes, you are correct.”
In childish innocence Coaldon stuttered, “Starglide was my mother. Th - th - then Starhood is my grandfather.”
Grandfather Brad responded, “Yes, you are again correct. I am sorry we have kept this secret from you. We did not want to overload you with information at your birthday party. Please accept my apology.”
Coaldon and Noel stood in a state of paralysis as their thoughts absorbed the new information. Then, like the release of an arrow, they both shot forward to greet Starhood with unrestrained emotions. Coaldon and Noel were not just blessed, but were double blessed. The celebration of their family consumed them for the rest of the day. As they basked in the glow of their happiness, they were only vaguely aware of the events culminating in their arrival at the City of Rockham.
The fourth person of the greeting party was the Lord Shortshaft, head of the Rockham Council of Clans. His short, broad, muscular body outlined his long, gray b
The long procession of the Hardstone Clan and warriors snaked into Echo Valley. The entrance to the valley was a narrow bottleneck leading to the doorway into Rockham. The tall, massive wall guarding the mouth of the valley was constructed of large blocks of white granite. The outside surface of the wall was perfectly smooth and reflected sunshine like a mirror. The large metal gates in the center of the wall were so skillfully crafted they could be opened by one person. The black, hard metal of the gate had been forged deep in the mountain. The metal would resist any known force of nature or magic.
After the procession passed through the gate, it proceeded to the end of the valley. A large crowd of Rockham citizens greeted them with solemn and stately respect. In silence, Hardstone Clan remained separated from the people of Rockham. The blast of a trumpet, the roll of a drum and the cry of a sorrowful voice declared a time of mourning. Before a reunion could take place, it was the tradition of the community to mourn the dwarves who died in battle.
Earthkin, Rolfe and Lord Shortshaft walked forward in slow, somber steps into the space separating the two groups. In loud, clear voices Lord Shortshaft and Rolfe took turns naming the warriors who died in battle. When they finished, a spontaneous, loud, mournful cry of grief erupted from the dwarf communities. A cloud of despair extended for a long period of time. Death was never easy to face and reconcile. After the grief had been released, a slow beat from the drum was accompanied by the chant of a deep male voice. The chant told the stories of great warriors who died protecting the clan.
When the chanting had ended, Topple stepped forward with his flute in hand. As if standing in the silence of death, he played the flute with feeling and reverence. The tone of the flute both caressed and enthralled the members of the community as if overcome by the very essence of divinity. The melody of the songs wove a tapestry of peace into the hearts of everyone sharing in this time of grief. When Topple finished playing, the mourners awoke from a cloud of enchantment and allowed healing to grip their souls. Then in a voice of authority Lord Shortshaft declared, “We have honored the dead, now it is time for the living to live. Let us rejoice in the blessings of life.”
The two groups then merged into a single community. Family members greeted family members; strangers welcomed strangers; friends embraced friends. The celebration continued as food and drink were loaded onto large tables near the entrance into the mountain. The Council of Clans decided to hold the reunion in the valley as a neutral ground for the two groups to meet and share.
As the festivities continued, Coaldon threw off the burden of worry and concern. He was enjoying the sense of security offered by his new environment. As the festivities grew to an end, Topple approached Coaldon with a sly smile on his face.
He giggled as he said, “Are you ready?”
Coaldon with a puzzled look on his face responded, “Am I ready for what?” Topple pointed to the sky saying, “Up there! Are you ready?” Coaldon looked into the sky, but only saw a beautiful sunset in the western sky. He looked at Topple with irritation etched on his face.
Coaldon continued, “I do not understand what you are talking about!”
In a dramatic fashion, Topple looked into the sky and waved his arms in a wide circle over his head.
He then looked at Coaldon, saying, “Are you ready? If you are not, I recommend you get ready.”
At that, Topple fluttered away into the crowd like a butterfly looking for a flower to visit. Coaldon was faced with the frustrating dilemma of what to do. He knew Topple did not play games when it came to warning people about an upcoming event. He debated if he should continue to mingle in the crowd or be alert to possible danger. He became restless, so he walked away from the crowd and into an open space in the middle of the valley. Without realizing what he was doing, he withdrew his sword from the scabbard. He acted out of instinct. A hush came over the community as one person after another became aware of Coaldon’s unusual actions. Coaldon was joined by his companions in anticipation of the unknown occurrence.
The orange and yellow colors of the sunset were suddenly replaced by churning, billowing, black storm clouds. These clouds did not move like a normal storm, but rushed toward the valley as if directed by magic. When the swirling cloud covered the valley, a clap of thunder introduced the approaching presence of evil. A black gloved hand reached from the cloud creating panic among the dwarves. Without hesitation, most clan members rushed into the safety of the tunnels.
It was not long before the valley was only occupied by a small contingent of dwarves, wizards and humans. Crossmore’s booming voice echoed off the steep walls of the valley, saying, “My, you look so nice and cozy. Unfortunately, you are not nearly as safe as you might think. My army will soon visit you. Ah! Ah! Ah! Seeing all of you together is such a disappointment. You look like helpless rats captured in a trap. Noel, you disappoint me. You have made a poor choice. I will change your mind. Just wait and see.”
Changing his attention, Crossmore thundered, “Badda, why did you leave me? I miss you. I welcome you with the open arms of a loving father. Please join me.” In fear and trembling, Bobby yelled, “I am no longer your property! I am my own person! I do not want to be your slave!”
In a sweet voice, Crossmore answered, “Your mind has been corrupted by the false whispers of your companions. Do not believe them! They are only using you for their own selfish purposes. You will be safe with me.”
A shadow of doubt crossed Bobby’s face as he looked at Coaldon and Topple with suspicion. Crossmore’s enticing words were enchanting Bobby’s mind. Bobby struggled to determine whom he could trust. Finally, Bobby raised his head, straightened his back and faced Crossmore.
He yelled, “Leave me alone! I will die before I become your servant!”
With a tone of frustration and anger, Crossmore declared, “Badda, I will grant your wish!”
As his black-gloved hand reached toward Bobby, Topple raised his hand to challenge him. Crossmore’s hand froze in mid-air. The air in the valley pulsed and throbbed as Topple and Crossmore confronted each other in a battle of wills. Like combat between two giants, the opposing forces clashed against each other. The battle of magic grew into a stalemate. With a sudden release, Crossmore pulled his hand away from the battle for Bobby.
In a booming voice, Crossmore said to Topple, “Little man, you are determined. I am amazed you waste your time and energy on this pathetic group of rubbish. Your greatness is way beyond the character of these lowly creatures. It must be difficult to tolerate such common and depraved people. You are welcome to join me in fulfilling the fate of the Empire.”
Topple only looked at him with an empty expression of boredom. Words were not necessary to reveal his answer.
Crossmore turned his attention to Coaldon. As Crossmore observed Coaldon, he laughed, saying, “You have caused mischief across the Empire. After our last encounter you must feel important and powerful. You need to realize, I allowed you to look good for the sake of your sister. I was in full control all the time. In truth, your worthless sword is only a meaningless toy. I permitted you to experience false hope. It humors me to see you take such pride in yourself. Ah! Ah! Ah! I find you disgusting. There is no glory in the performance of your pitiful tricks. I will enjoy punishing you for interfering with me.”
Coaldon controlled his emotions as Crossmore belittled him. With calm deliberation, he allowed the sword to sizzle and rattle with energy. A red glow charged the end of the sword. Coaldon would not attack the wizard out of resentment or anger. He did not want to fall into Crossmore’s trap of answering evil with evil. The glow from the Blade of Conquest forced Crossmore to retreat from an encounter with Coaldon. He was seeking to find a weakness in the armor of his opponents, not to suffer the pain of Coaldon’s attack.
Crossmore then turned to Brad who was carefully listening
In a flash, the black cloud and the hand disappeared from the sky. Only silence remained. The impact of Crossmore’s visit was both enlightening and frightening. Any romantic visions of easily defeating Crossmore dissolved like salt in water.
They walked off the field knowing the war had only just begun.
As the group ventured into the entrance to Rockham, Coaldon declared, “United we stand, divided we fail. We must work together to regain our freedom. It is our duty to find the Key of Ban. The Key of Ban will be the doorway to conquering the forces of evil.”
the end