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Chapter Five
Hanmas spent many days at the old ruins. He had circled the perimeter several times. Just moments earlier he saw a group of orcs milling about. That wouldn’t have been cause for alarm, yet these orcs were organized patrols. Usually, orcs would never be that careful as to travel like that, plus they talked of their orders given to them by their commander and a few generals, human generals.
This seemed very odd indeed. He changed into his human form and slipped past the patrol silently. For a large man, he was very light on his feet. He had all the grace and prowess of a cat and the keen hearing abilities of an elf.
Hanmas soon found the answer to his question: Only fifty paces from him stood three of Aswanta’s generals.
The generals sat in a circle with a map between them. They were going over finalizations for the traps set for the heroes.
Hanmas used his dragon sight to see every detail of the layouts. None of those traps would work, he knew. But so did the generals. That was the point. They wanted to kill the company personally.
Tamaturil thought how sweet it would be to kill the mighty Hanmas the way he had been killed. Although he would make sure the great hunter could not come back for an encore.
Elfflayer and Skullhammer would take care of the girl and whoever else was there. He wanted the dragon. Nothing else would quench the thirst of the beast’s blood. He would make Hanmas suffer a slow and agonizing death. Also, he would keep him alive just enough so he can see his beloved companions die right before his eyes. He may even keep the dragon’s head as a trophy. Wouldn’t that be nice, he thought to himself. He would hang it above his bed; that way, he would dream of that glorious day. Although, before that happened, he had to get a hold of the warrior.
Tamaturil grew annoyed at the thought that him and his little band of groupies still lived. He angrily slammed his fist down on the rock that served as the table they had the map on.
Elfflayer and Skullhammer stared curiously at the man their queen had put in charge.
“Hold on, son,” chuckled the king.
“But dad, I saw it! A huge buck ran off through here, with the speed of a panther!”
“I didn’t see anything,” said Sinaifein, Hanmas’s older brother, with a knowing smirk. Their father caught it, chuckled, and shook his head.
“Are you playing with your brother’s head again?” he asked. The young Hanmas turned his roan around and faced his brother, seeming genuinely hurt by the deception. Sinaifein’s smirk fell away at the expression.
“Sorry, little brother, I was just testing out my illusions. I’ve been practicing my magic,” He apologized with a smile and Hanmas accepted it.
“You are going to be a wonderful king, brother.” How naïve he used to be. The scene continued.
“I won’t be king until the title is passed,” replied Sinaifein as he tousled the boy’s hair.
King Theranas grinned as his two sons boned and became closer. They had been inseparable when they were hunting. Neither wanted to go back to the palace. They had begged to stay out for a few hours longer. King Theranas agreed and the three rode deeper in to the woods.
It was almost sunset when the three decided to turn back,. Reluctant to go , Hanmas hung back a bit and let his father and brother ride on; Or so he thought. His brother had cast an illusion making Hanmas think he had gone off with their father, but Sinaifein rode silently behind the smaller boy. Then, he cast another illusion of a giant bear in front of Hanmas’s horse. The beast reared up, but Hanmas miraculously held on.
Quickly, he attempted to bring the steed under control, but it was no use. It ran off at high speed, thundering past King Theranas.
“Pull the reins!” cried the king. Hanmas did as he was told; however, his hold on the reins wasn’t strong enough. They snapped in his hands and he flew backwards off his saddle, landing hard on the ground. It took him a moment to regain his breath. His father and brother circled around him.
King Theranas gently lifted his son’s head, yet he withdrew his hands slowly. His facial expression quickly turned grave as blood pulled about his son.
“How are you feeling, child?” he asked with a hoarse voice.
“I…don’t really feel…anything.” Hanmas’s voice was weak and he didn’t even realize that there was a small metal shard protruding from the nape of his neck. He was absolutely unaware that he was so close to death.
“So I can remember,” Hanmas growled softly out into the distance.
Besides, he thought to himself, you’re just going to get more, so why get rid of them?
Of course, not all scars were physical; emotional ones hurt the worst. Hanmas knew that those would never truly heal; he could never truly call those still tender wounds scars.
By midday, they had arrived at a great stone structure. Shadows played at the corners of the iron doorway. There were no windows save for the hole in the roof.
“Looks like a bloody prison.” Bregandarth crinkled his nose.
“It is,” Akyri stated simply. She traced the ancient demon’s ruins inscribed on the door.
“Whatever is in there must be dangerous indeed,” Lofgrin stated with a grim expression.
“You mean whoever.” Akyri was quick to correct. Bregandarth and Lofgrin threw concerned glances at the girl. She waved a dismissive hand as she finished up her tracings..
The barriers unlocked on by one, each turned with audible clicks. Lofgrin let out a low whistle as the door finally sung inward. They walked in and found nothing. The entire chamber lay empty except for several spiders.
“Something’s not right.” Akyri walked into the middle of the room.
“Darned right! Isn’t someone supposed to be in here?” Bregandarth leaned over and picked up an empty shackle.
“Not in here.” She bent down and pulled back a cloth that was invisible to all except her demon kin. A stairwell revealed itself. “Down there.”
They cautiously moved downward fidning a comfortable living space. Well, it would have been comfortable if it weren’t for the shackles in the middle of the room. T hat room, too, was empty.
“It would seem that nobody is home,” Lofgrin said to break the tense silence that ensued as Akyri looked about.
The demon dropped down to her knees and hung her head and began swaying slightly back and forth. The others barely heard her whisper, “Pheonais, help us all.”
She lifted up defiantly and strode out of the chamber. Bregandarth and Lofgrin followed in silence.
They built a camp close to the structure. As Lofgrin settled close to the fire, Bregandarth started sharing a tale of how he felled two giants with his two mighty axes.
“It was fight or die. No one to help me. So there they were, over fifteen feet, the both of ‘em. They cornered me, they did. And ye know how dangers a cornered dwarf is. Anyhow…” he continued on with the tale, not noticing Akyri slip away. She found the pond she used to go to when she was only a small demonling.
She sunk into the cool depths and tried to wash away her anxiety. Everyone was a bit nervous, she knew, although they didn’t now just how dangerous their situation had turned. Akyri would rather deal with Cloudy Sky than have the Crimson Demon loose and on the wrong side of the alliance. Cloudy Sky was a saint compared to the devastation the Crimson Demon had caused and could still cause! Off in the distance, Akyri heard her name being called.
“Hey, girl! Come on out! Where’d ye go?” Bregandarth ambled up to the pond. Just in time to see Akyri rise up through its surface. Immediately, his jaw dropped. There stood Akyri in all her (naked) glory. She was beautiful with her toned muscles taut and tanned to perfection; She was both delicate and deadly. She would be flawless except for the ghastly scar that ran the length of her torso; Although, that did little to stop the dwarf’s wandering eyes.
Akyri finally came to her senses and felt her temper rise as her face reddened.
“Go away!” she demanded, screaming at the unsuspecting dwarf. Dumbfounded, he stood there and she continued to shout. Shortly, Lofgrin appeared wondering what all the commotion was.
“Is everything alr--“ His jaw, too, readily dropped upon seeing the demon.. More infuriated now, Akyri grabbed her swords and chased the two back to their encampment, out of breath she reported her anger and warned them that if they ever did that again, she would pluck out their eyes. They weren’t listening. Well, Bregandarth wasn’t; Lofgrin had long ago looked away in respect for the girl.
Suddenly, she was reminded of her situation due to a sudden breeze. Akyri rushed off back to the pond to collect her clothes and sheaves.
“Well, that was by far the best sight-seein’ I’ve done all day!” declared the dwarf after she left.
“You should be ashamed of yourself! That is very disrespectful,” Lofgrin said, scorning his lusting companion.
“I should be, but I ain’t!” was the only reply the dwarf made. Upon Akyri’s return, the awkward silence was overlooked as Bregandarth asked a question that popped into his head. Well, the twentieth question, anyway.
“So, where’d you get that scar?”
“In battle,” Akyri answered with some stiffness in her voice.
“With who or what?”
“The Crimson Demon.”
“Sounds like a fancy title. So, who the hell is that if I might be askin’?”
“Someone who I hope hasn’t gotten too far off.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Are ye talkin’ ‘bout that thing that was supposed to be in that there prison place?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes,” She answered with a strong finality that warned that the subject was absolutely and completely closed.