Chapter 4

They parted company as planned.  Jorm rode with Miowni and Giyorn to the
east.  Cretin accompanied Morgain and Gwidian to the north.  The parting
was not highly emotional, but there was a genuine sadness in the air.
Giyorn spoke civilly to Morgain and Gwidian, who for their part, kept their
faces straight and forsook a jest.

Jorm remained friendly and matter of fact, while Cretin seemed indifferent.
Only Miowni showed a real sadness on her face, but soon that disappeared as
they rode into the morning sun.

'It seems you were right,' said Giyorn to Jorm, 'the sword had been
returned to the kingdom of Goronak.'

'And if that is the case then you may retrieve all you fathers weapons,'
continued Miowni.

'One weapon is enough to slay Nomarn, however it may not be nearly enough
to get near him, but then again... who can tell?' Jorm brought his horse to
a standstill and surveyed the landscape. 'The land becomes soft and wet; we
are entering marshlands.'

Giyorn sighed. 'My home lies far to the east.  These lands were firm and
hard in days gone by.'

'And so they shall be again,' assured Jorm urging his horse forward. 'And
so they shall be again.'

                                    *

The further they journeyed the softer the land became.  Soon it became
obvious that their travels were coming to an end.  Night was falling and
the marsh mists were hugging the ground closely. They could just make out
the shadowy outlines of trees standing all about them, except in the
direction they were travelling.

'It is impossible to continue,' stated Jorm. 'We do not know where we
tread.'

'It is all so eerie,' commented Miowni, pulling her cloak tightly about
herself.

Giyorn looked thoughtful. 'It is not going to be a pleasant night.  The
cold and damp will seep through to our bones before dawn.'

Jorm dismounted.  The mist totally engulfed his legs up to his knees and a
flimsier mist reached up to his waist.  He took a few steps forward, then
grimaced as water seeped into his footwear.

Miowni stared into the mist, something had caught her attention. Calmly she
said, 'There is something out there.'

Giyorn followed her gaze. 'It looks like some sort of boat, floating on the
mist.'

Jorm also turned to look. 'We must be on the fringe of some sort of lake.'

They all watched as the boat glided silently closer.  Miowni pulled her
cloak tighter still. 'It is so cold.'

'It is an evil cold,' said Giyorn. 'Unnatural.'

'Who do you think it is?' whispered Miowni. 'Who would travel lands such as
these at nightfall?'

'There are those who live in darkness,' said Jorm. 'Keep your wits about
you.'  He placed his hand on the sheath of his newly found sword.

'A shade,' murmured Miowni.

'Just follow my lead,' said Jorm.

The boat drifted towards them.  At its stern stood a tall featureless
figure. There was no face to see and long robes reached down to the wooden
boards of the small craft.  At ten paces it came to a halt.  A hand was
raised and a bony finger beckoned them nearer.

Jorm motioned his friends to dismount and together they waded into the
water.  He was the first to board and without a word spoken he seated
himself forward, staring back at the boatmaster.

Miowni gave a questioning look at Giyorn.  Giyorn nodded and they both
boarded and sat between Jorm and the boatmaster.  Neither looked
comfortable and Miownis eyes were fearful.

The boat turned though there was no visible source of propulsion and began
to drift the way it had come.  Jorms eyes remained fixed, though the figure
he looked at remained motionless. Giyorn and Miowni also sat facing the
boatmaster but there was nothing to see; dark robes covered the form
completely; only a blue sash broke the completeness of this drab attire.

They drifted through the mist for a great length of time.  For those
onboard they may have been traversing the world of the dead.  Nothing
seemed to move, no sound was there to hear, no sights were there to see.

Eventually a slight scraping was heard; the boat was running aground.  Jorm
rose and stepped into the shallow waters; his friends followed closely
behind.  They watched as the boat disappeared into the mist.

'Who pays the ferryman?' queried Giyorn.

'I do not understand,' said Miowni. 'Who was that?'

'What you expected,' replied Jorm. 'A shade.'

'A shade,' stated Miowni surprised. 'I still do not understand. Why should
it ferry us across the water... unless it has... it has stranded us.'

Jorm looked at Miowni. 'Perhaps, but I think not.  They are searching.
They think I know the whereabouts of the helvstone. They still seek the
Queen.  They think I can lead them to their goal.'

'Can you?' said Giyorn flatly.

Jorm smiled. 'Their lack of knowledge has allowed us to cross the water.
While they guess, we have a certain amount of security.'

'You have security,' stated Giyorn. 'What about Miowni.  What about Morgain
and Gwidian.'

'The more that I share my knowledge, the more chance these wraiths have of
finding the truth.  This must not happen.'

Giyorn looked disgruntled but he said no more.

They cleared the marshlands that night and the dawn found them all fast
asleep.  It was midday before they again travelled on. This time they
carried no food and no water.

'Our destination is not far,' assured Jorm.

'We still do not know our destination,' stated Miowni.

'An old hermits house,' said Jorm.

'Complete with hermit?' enquired Giyorn.

'I hope so.  The land has changed much.  I hope he has found the means to
survive.'

They travelled until late afternoon before Jorm found his bearings,
although the others thought he knew exactly where he was going.  By
nightfall a single light flickered ahead of them and a dog barked at their
approach.

'Well, it seems fortune smiles upon us,' said Jorm.

The faces of both Giyorn and Miowni lifted.

They walked another thirty paces, then halted at the sound of a human voice.

'WHO IS OUT THERE.  SHOW YOURSELVES.'

'WE ARE FRIENDS.  I AM THE SON OF RAIMAR,' called Jorm.

There was silence for a few moments then the voice called, 'HOW DO I KNOW
YOU ARE THE SON OF RAIMAR?'

'I CANNOT PROVE ANYTHING UNLESS I APPROACH.' Jorm began to walk towards the
house.  As he approached, the bent figure of the hermit came into view.  He
carried no weapons, only a stick to help him walk.

Jorm stopped no more than a pace from the hermit and held out his right
hand. 'The ring I wear is my fathers.'

The hermit moved a little closer and peered at Jorms hand. 'It bears the
crown of the Southlands,' said the hermit in a croaky voice. 'Your father
is dead.'

It was not a question and Jorm simply nodded.

'I thought it so a while ago.  You see I found the axe again lying in the
cave to the north.  A strange place that.  It is where I first found it.
Lots of bones in there.'

'You will no doubt know why I am here.'

'Yes, I thought someone would come.  Who are your friends?'

'Lord Giyorn of the lands to the east and Miowni; she is the stepdaughter
of someone who was once close to me - sadly he has departed this world.'

'It is dangerous for a lady to go wandering around these parts.'

'It is dangerous everywhere.'

'You had better bring your friends and join me for a bite of supper. It is
safer behind closed doors.'

It was a sparse meal in a sparse home.  There was little more than the
table they sat beside, a cupboard with shelves and the chairs they sat
upon.  An old stove burned in one corner which provided their only heating
and two lanterns hung from the walls, casting shadows around the dwelling.
It was a musty little place in which they sat and despite the stove the air
still felt cool.

'Tell me er...'

'Lorns is my name, young sir.'

'Tell me Lorns, have you always lived a life of solitude?'

'Not always.  I saw the evil which was coming.  I used to be Ribolorns
jailor at Greyfar.  I stood watch over the poor souls imprisoned there.'

'Greyfar,' repeated Miowni, putting her spoon into an empty bowl.

'Horrible place.  At first it was alright.  Count Ribolorn was a fair man.
Then the visits began.  Baron Nomarn Deleri and Baroness Helian, an evil
pair they were.  Others came too; Krangor from the kingdom near the sea, as
cold as death that one; then there was the greedy Mandonna, sly and
envious.  I would trust a snake before trust her.  Tordoth came as well.  I
kept well out of his way.  If things were not exactly as he wanted... what
a temper, fierce with it as well.'

'And that is when you decided to leave?' queried Giyorn.

'No, I decided to leave when Grogor arrived, their henchman.  I just could
not watch what he did to the prisoners.'

'Why did he take such an interest in your prisoners,' queried Jorm.

'They were looking for information, seeking the talismans of evil. They
would all come down to the dungeons together sometimes to watch the
torture, all except the count, I always thought he knew something the
others did not.  A wise one was the count.'

'Any idea what he knew?' prompted Giyorn.

Lorns shrugged his shoulders.

'These talismans; do you know what they were?' queried Jorm.

'Only one.  A black dagger.  It was awful the way they got the
information.  This young lassie, daughter of a woodsman; what they did to
her!'

'A woodsman had the dagger,' suggested Miowni.

'A woodsman he was, an outlaw they called him.  Many of the woodland folk
turned against their masters.  They knew there was evil in the air.'

'So his daughter betrayed him,' said Miowni.

'That is a harsh word, my dear.  They had her stretched out on the torture
slab.  All her clothes ripped off and bound hand and foot.  Grogor has ways
of getting information.   He has more tools of pain than an army has
weapons.  This day he chose his...'

'Spare us the details,' said Jorm intervening.

'The nightmares come back night after night,' said Lorns.

'I understand.  I have no doubt they have found what they required, or they
would not have the power they wield.  Do you know your way around Greyfar?'

Lorns laughed. 'I did know but things have changed.  Even before I departed
the fortress was losing its reality.  The light of day never penetrates its
corridors any more.  The wind always seems to howl like the cries of
Grogors victims down below.  They were making a pact with Leir, slipping
into the darkworld where all things that are good turn evil.'

'So you decided to cut yourself off from the world,' said Miowni. 'From
friends and foe alike.'

'From my foes certainly.  Greyfar is now a castle of shadows, where demons
stalk its passageways.  There is no warmth there any more, the warmth that
once was now scorches the lands around Greyfar and turns its greenery to
sand.  As for friends... a true friend I have never had.  A jailors lot
should not be envied.'

They all sat and watched as the hermit cleared their bowls from the table
to put them on a shelf. 'They say the archives survive in the middle of
that desert, a pinnacle of ice, standing under a fiery sun.'

Miowni leant back in her chair. 'That is strange, I would have thought
Nomarn would have taken what he wished and destroyed the rest.  There is a
lot of knowledge and history stored there.'

'Perhaps he has,' said Lorns re-seating himself.  'It is a lot of years
since I built my little home here.'

'I am surprised the ground we sit upon here is firm,' commented Giyorn.

All eyes fell on Lorns.

Lorns shook his head. 'How should I know why it remains firm. The marsh is
all around me, I suppose it is just a matter of time.'

Giyorn had not meant anything by his comment but now his eyes narrowed a
little.  'How did you escape from Greyfar?'

'Escape!  Why should I escape, I was not a prisoner there? No one really
noticed me once Grogor arrived.'

'And how do you survive here?' questioned Miowni.  'You may find a little
food, but what about the wraiths?'

'Now just a moment, I invite you into my home and feed you...'

'Shrines!' said Jorm interrupting, 'The cave where the axe lies; a shrine
where the archives were built; the old elden battleground where the
ringstones stand; Goronaks kingdom.  I wonder if Goronak knew he was
building his kingdom beneath one of the old elden shrines.'

'You are guessing,' suggested Giyorn.

'It sounds feasible,' retorted Miowni.

Lorns sat and said nothing.

'It seems these places have a resilience against evil,' continued Jorm, '...
I think we owe Lorns an apology.'

Miowni looked a little bashful, but Giyorns face held firm.

'I would not waste your breath,' said Lorns. 'What is done is done.  I
suggest you have a nights rest then leave at daybreak.' Lorns left the
table and took a blanket from the cupboard.  He curled himself up beside
the stove and closed his eyes.

Jorm turned to his companions and shrugged his shoulders. 'It seems we are
in for an uncomfortable night.'

                                    *

Dawn came, though the suns rays could not penetrate the clouded skies.
They had all slept soundly despite their uncomfortable makeshift beds; now
they were rested if somewhat stiff.  Lorns had been the first to rise and
he now waited outside.

It was not long before the others joined Lorns, they all looked tired and
unkempt, stubble covered Jorms chin and sleep lay in the corners of his
eyes.  He looked at Lorns who simply turned away and began to walk
northward, stick in hand.  Jorm followed with Miowni at his side.  Giyorn
brought up the rear with a disagreeable look on his face.

They followed a narrow winding path which wound its way slowly upward until
at last they reached a sheer rock face, perhaps forty paces high; at its
base was a large jagged opening.  Lorns stopped beside the opening and
said, 'This is the place you seek.You will find the axe inside.' He
motioned inside.

The three stood and watched as Lorns turned to make his way back to his
home.

'Lorns,' said Jorm.

Lorns stopped and shifted his head towards Jorm.

'Thank you... friend.'

                                    *

Jorm entered the cave by himself.  The air felt cool and dry. His feet
kicked up small clouds of dust as he walked.  It was not a deep cave but
even so he had to walk a hundred paces before reaching his goal.  By this
time the light from the outside world was virtually lost, but it was not
completely dark.  The walls had the same luminescence as those in Goronaks
kingdom.

Jorm gazed around.  As Lorns had said the cavern was filled with bones;
skeletal figures of the past.  He presumed they were elden bones but there
was no way to tell.  If childhood stories were to be believed the elden
races were not much different to man in appearance, they had high cheek
bones and ears which were far more pointed than the average man; they were
perhaps a little taller than humankind but Jorm would not have been small
in comparison.  The only prominent feature was the eyes - they shone
with a light of their own; it gave them a majestic if somewhat alien look.
Sadly these features had disappeared except for the cheekbones and Jorm was
no expert on bones.

At the very end of the passageway was a large stone and upon the stone lay
the axe.  It did not look anything special though its edge appeared keen
and it was large in size - just the way Jorm remembered it.  It seemed as
though someone had casually walked into the cave, put it down and forgotten
about it when they left.

Jorm walked over to the stone and reached out to pick it up.

'Hold,' came a voice, seemingly from nowhere.

Jorm stopped in his tracks.  He looked about but saw no one. 'Show
yourself,' he replied, though he could not see where anyone might hide.

'You can see me already,' replied the voice.

Jorm shook his head, then cast his eyes across the bones.  He was not sure
but one of the skulls seemed to be smiling. 'If you will not show yourself,
then I shall continue my quest.'

As if a wind of magic had blown across them, the bones of one skeletal
figure ordered themselves into an upright skeleton with the smiling skull
sat on the top.  Jorm stood back in amazement.

'Now you see me, and I tell you the axe is mine.'

For a moment Jorm was speechless.  His father had not warned him about the
guardian of the axe.

'Have you nothing to say, Lord of the Southlands?'

Slowly Jorm gathered himself together. 'This axe was the property of Raimar
and I am his heir.  The axe goes with me.'

The skull laughed. 'Not without my blessing.'

'And what would you ask of me?' queried Jorm in a quiet yet unrepenting
voice.

'I have a riddle you must answer.'

'Damned riddles,' mumbled Jorm, his voice edged with annoyance. 'And what
is your riddle?'

The bones wobbled a little and the jaw bone opened and shut. 'If it takes
four men to overcome a demon and two demons to overcome an elden, and if
four elden can overcome two wizards which can overcome seven demons or two
shades, although seven demons cannot overcome two shades, then in reality
how many men are required to overcome one shade?  You should know the
answer.'

After a short while of thought Jorm snapped, 'Is it a trick question?'

'Perhaps,' rattled the bones.

'And if I should give the wrong answer?'

'The axe remains.'

Jorm again looked at the bones. 'Just the axe?' he said.

The skeletal figure remained silent.

Jorm reached for his sword.

The figure held out a bony hand - a sword appeared in its grip. 'You choose
to fight?'

'My friend Lorns has a dog.  Food is scarce.'

'Arrogance,' commented the skull.

Jorm leapt at the figure before the jawbone had time to close, but even so
it found time to duck the blow.  With the clashing of steel as sword met
sword they fought; thrusting; parrying; ducking; it was a ferocious fight.
The only difference between the two opponents was that only one would
tire.  Slowly but surely Jorm became short of breath and his muscles ached.

'You are beaten brave Lord.  A mere mortal cannot overcome I - the guardian
of the axe.  No mortal blade can put me to rest.'

Jorm leant against the cavern wall panting, though his spirit was undaunted
and his mind active. 'Mortal blade,' said Jorm drawing breath deeply. 'Do
you not recognise this sword?' He held the sword out, blade upward.

The figure moved closer and lifted its eyeless sockets as if to examine the
blade.  Then as if it recognised the weapon it said, 'Even so, you must
still answer my riddle.'

Jorm brought the sword down with a crash.  It missed the skull but smashed
down through the left shoulder blade to splinter the ribcage.  The bones
collapsed in a heap, the skull facing upward.

'ONE,' cried Jorm. 'Raimar gave testimony to that with the slaying of the
green shade, Mandonna.' Then he stormed over to the axe and lifted it from
its resting place.  Despite its size he lifted it with relative ease.  He
marched past his victim and exited the cave without another word.

'Just like his father,' said the skull, before its jaw closed forever.

                                    *

Giyorn and Miowni sat waiting patiently, staring at distant mountain
peaks.  Their faces lifted as Jorm appeared with the axe.

Giyorn smiled broadly as he got to his feet. 'We thought you had fallen
asleep, you have been gone so long.  Not a sound has left that cave since
you entered.'

Jorm looked at Giyorn curiously. 'You surprise me Giyorn, however take the
axe and use it well.'

Giyorn looked startled. 'Why me?  I thought you were the bearer of these
weapons.'

'I can use only one, it is best we both have the means to defend ourselves
against all eventualities.'

Giyorn smiled. 'In that case I will indeed take the axe.' Giyorn was
surprised by the lightness of the axe.  He swished it through the air this
way and that to get the feel of it.

'When you have finished we have to continue our journey,' said Miowni.

Giyorn rested the axe on the ground, holding the shaft in his hands. 'We
have to retrace our footsteps.'

'There are no footsteps across the lake,' said Miowni.

They all stood a while in silence.

'Someone must have thought of a means of re-crossing the lake,' continued
Miowni.

Jorm shook his head. 'We can only move one step at a time.  We found the
means to reach the axe; now we must head back to the lake, it may be
possible to cross the water without a boat.'

'Who knows we may get a friendly shade to ferry us back?' added Giyorn.

Miowni cringed. 'I doubt that I could sit that close to a wraith again.'

'It would probably be unwise even if we had the chance,' said Jorm.
'Carrying both axe and sword the shade may see us as too great a threat.
At present they are biding their time, even the greyshade we encountered
earlier seemed to have no real motivation behind it, but as we grow in
strength and they do not, they may well decide to take a more hostile
approach.'

'You think they may forsake the helvstone and their search for the Queen?'
queried Miowni.

'I honestly do not know,' replied Jorm. 'I think the helvstone could prove
dangerous to anyone who could release its power.  The wraiths may not know
what they seek or they may wish to destroy it.'

Miowni looked apprehensive. 'You know what the helvstone looks like and
they do not?'

'It is a helvstone,' said Giyorn. 'A stone of great beauty and power.'

'We know that,' said Miowni, 'but how do we recognise it?'

'I cannot answer that,' replied Jorm.

'Will not,' stated Miowni.

'The stones in the hands of evil could be our downfall.  The less said the
better.'

'Stones,' said Miowni.

Jorm sighed then looked at Miowni for a short time. 'Stones come in many
shapes and sizes.  Often time conceals the truth of tales.  A lucky warrior
may become a great hero or a hungry dog a savage wolf.'

'Are you trying to tell us the helvstone is not a valuable gem?' queried
Miowni.

'I am telling you to take nothing or no one at face value.'

'You do,' intervened Giyorn. 'You trusted Lorns.'

'No.  I gave him the benefit of the doubt, there is a large difference.'
Jorm was beginning to look frustrated.  He looked at Giyorn then Miowni.
'We must end this discussion and be on our way.  The more we talk the more
time we waste and the more chance our enemies have of catching us out.'

Both Giyorn and Miowni returned the look, they realised Jorm was doing and
saying what he thought best.  Giyorn motioned him to lead the way.

                                    *

It was late in the day when they again bordered the lake.  The stretch of
water before them looked formidable and it seemed too treacherous to try
and wade.  They waited in expectation until nightfall.  None doubted that
the boatmaster would reappear, though they did wonder at its intentions.
It seemed too much to expect that they would simply be ferried back from
whence they came.

The marsh and lake remained clear of mist but the starry sky threw little
light on their surroundings.  They all knew what to expect but even so the
appearance of the boat not twenty paces from them sent a shiver down their
spines.

'Krangor,' muttered Jorm.

'How do you know?' whispered Miowni.

'It was he who carried us here,' replied Jorm. 'The sash it wears, it
reflects its personality.'

'Perhaps it is one of the others,' suggested Giyorn.

'Krangor is the ferryman,' said Jorm, shaking his head.

They boarded the boat and sat in silence as they had done on their outward
journey.  When the boat reached its destination both Giyorn and Miowni
disembarked.  Jorm followed at the rear, but as his feet reached the watery
ground his right hand reached for his sword.  He swivelled around to face
the wraith unsheathing his sword for the kill - but the boat was empty.  He
turned to face Giyorn and Miowni, they were frozen, staring at something
before them.

Jorm moved as quickly as the ground would allow him towards his friends.
He soon realised where the wraith had gone.

'You think to destroy me,' said a mindvoice.

Jorm stood with his friends and stared at the wraith.

'You think Krangor is so foolish as to fall foul of your blade?'

Jorm motioned to Giyorn.  They began to walk towards Krangor in a tight
arc, one to the left and one to the right of the wraith. Giyorn readied his
axe.

Krangor lifted a bony hand and pointed to the ground a pace in front of
Giyorn. 'You walk into a trap my friend,' it laughed.

Giyorn took one more pace forward then yelled as he disappeared into the
ground.  It was so quick that Jorm and Miowni just stood in silent
amazement.

'You seriously believe you can challenge me?' said Krangor.

Jorm glanced at Krangor, then pulling himself together, he ran towards the
place of Giyorns disappearance.  He looked around in desperation for his
friend, but there was naught to see, the marsh had swallowed him.  He
turned his attention back to the wraith.  He saw Krangor lean his head back
as if to look at the stars, then for what seemed no more than a few moments
the light of the stars dimmed to almost invisibility, leaving a shroud of
utter darkness on the marsh.  When their light returned Krangor had gone.

The two remaining companions spent the rest of the night calling and
searching for their friend, but even when the suns light again touched the
earth, no sign of his whereabouts could they find.  Even when all hope had
gone they lingered on, until Jorm eventually said, 'Our search is in vain,
whatever wizardry is in the air - it defeats us.'

Jorm was visibly grieved and Miowni distraught as they moved on. They found
two of their horses where they had been left.  Giyorns mount was missing.

'It seems it was all planned from the outset.  The evil ones never intended
Giyorn to return with us,' said Jorm, with a hint of misgiving in his voice.
'It could have destroyed us all,' stated Miowni.

Jorm mounted his horse and beckoned Miowni to follow.
