Gondell's Quest - Book 1 - Destiny - Free Sampler Edition
Chapter 8
I wonder what time it is out in the world, Gondell asked himself, It was night when we entered, but how many hours have I been walking and climbing... and crawling, he grinned nervously as he remembered his terror crossing the river of lava. I'm sure it must be daytime, will we never reach this Great Hall? Ruaq had promised rest in the hall, rest before the crossing? Gondell wondered, but what are we to cross, another lake, a sea, an ocean?
What Gondell did not know, in the world above dawn had broken and at that exact moment Ulaff the Ogre questioned his leader about the dangerously beautiful new member of their tightly knit group.
“Finally,” he gasped as the tunnel that had compressed his body and mind for so many hours suddenly opened out into a truly breathtaking hall.
“Is it not everything I promised?” laughed his now familiar guard, with his bindings and tether gone, the Goblin had jogged at his side and answered a variety of questions, questions posed as Gondell explored the mind of his captors, an attempt to understand how an entire race could blindly follow a sinister leader into the darkness without question.
“It is all of that, and more,” Gondell answered honestly as he gazed in awe at the feat of engineering. “And your people dug this place by hand, it is not a natural cave?”
“Dug by fifty thousand slaves,” the guard boasted, his eyes filled with pride.
“Then it is not a Goblin achievement,” sighed Gondell as his feelings shifted again, to believe I was actually beginning to respect these vile creatures. Stop being a romantic fool Gondell, they are pure evil despite the small acts of kindness and compassion, their hearts are black... every one of them.
“It was our vision that brought this magnificent space into existence, who cares who did the work, is that not also the way with your own people, the intelligent dream, and the stupid labour?”
“That is a very different scenario,” responded the disgruntled Gnome, “There is a big difference between a labourer and a slave... choice!”
“How noble of you,” laughed the Goblin as they stepped out into the vast hall, “Labourer or slave, they are both the same, the weak will always serve the strong, the poor will always bow down to the rich, your own poor are little better than slaves.”
“You missed my point,” insisted Gondell, “The meaning of choice.”
“It is you that is misguided, your poor have no choice, or at the best a bad one, starve or labour, at least we fed our slaves, they wanted for nothing.”
“Except maybe freedom! Oh why am I wasting my breath? Arguing morality with a Goblin!”
“It is almost a pity that you have to be delivered to the Master my little mouse, I am growing to enjoy our debates.”
“So don't deliver me,” laughed Gondell, “Surely he won't miss one small mouse.”
“You are a clever one my friend,” the Goblin winked, “Playing to my soft heart, but tell me something, what is the secret to release the sword, I am curious?”
“Not as curious as I am,” he answered honestly, “I have told the truth from the beginning, I really know nothing about the sword, or my role as the keeper, that is if I truly am!”
“The captain believes you are, that is enough to convince me, I just hoped that you were holding a little something back, some information you might share with me, information would improve my standing in the legions, maybe put me in a position where I can shield you a little from the torments ahead... you scratch my back and I can scratch yours.”
“Then I am truly sorry that I know nothing,” replied Gondell sadly, “Believe me if I did have information I would share it with you.”
“I like you my little mouse, so I hope that the Master is merciful and kills you quickly, The lads and I will drink to your good name as we feast on your remains.”
That one statement reopened the void between Gondell and his captors, clearly intended as a compliment Gondell felt sick to his stomach that he had lulled himself into believing that the Goblin race could be brought into the light and become civilized. They are monsters, and always will be, he decided with a heavy heart.
“The toil of fifty thousand souls, their blood sweat and tears, that is what this place represents.” whispered Gondell as he gazed around the massive hall. If this place had a better history I would say that I am in awe, but impressive as it is, I find no wonder in it now. The group had reached what he considered the centre, possibly because an austere building stood towering above him, the highest point that he had seen during the long walk from the entrance tunnel, only one of very many dark tunnels in the distant walls that he had noticed.
Except this isn't a building, he observed as closer inspection revealed greater detail, not a building at all, this is a carving. The whole structure has been carved from the living rock. “What is this place?” he asked the guard.
“This is the Temple of Nilgoth, come my little mouse, step inside with me, and then tell me if it is not truly a marvel... despite being the work of slaves.” he gave the Gnome a playful prod and grasping his shoulder steered him through the massive arched entrance.
Gondell had lead a sheltered life, always content to stay within sight of friendly and familiar places, so his adventuring had been restricted to the pages of his many books. Now he found himself stood within an adventure, seeing sights through his own wide eyes rather than the memory or imagination of artists. His footsteps echoed around the vast temple as he cautiously stepped forward. It's an amphitheatre, he gasped as his eyes adjusted to the light thrown out by row upon row of braziers that hung from the domed ceiling high above. Just a few paces from where he stood the polished floor disappeared diving deep down to the mountains roots in a series of wide terraces, each lower than the other, and at the bottom, at least one hundred metres below the level of the floor stood what looked like a black granite altar.
The guard followed his gaze and chuckled, “There lie the remains of Nilgoth, in his mausoleum he waits patiently for the time to return.” dropping to his knees in prayer the guard whispered quietly, “The time is here at last Lord, your long wait is almost over.”
“Nilgoth is here?” Gondell shuddered as he gazed down at what he now knew to be a tomb and not an altar, “I thought the Guild burned his body on the battle field? Well, that's what the history books say.”
“Guild lies,” hissed the guard, his expression rapidly shifting toward anger, “Is that what your books teach you, that the Guild defiled our Lord? All fallacy, his body was carried with respect away from the field by his generals, they did not burn him, he is here, I have seen him with my own eyes.”
“And you believe that he will be reborn?”
“If you are the keeper, yes, he will return soon, Lord Kangan has the power to raise him, he is a powerful necromancer, the most powerful the world has ever seen.”
“But why I am I important?” demanded Gondell, now believing that he could be the keeper, even if ignorant to the facts, “And why the sword?”
“The sword took his spirit,” came the whispered reply, “But Lord Kangan will release it again, but he needs the sword first... and that is why you are important my little mouse.”
Until that moment in time Gondell had viewed his predicament as a nightmare, a terrible dream that continued hour after hour, and his stubborn optimism had refused to face facts, he would wake eventually back in his own bed, in his cosy hole, back to his comfortable life. But in that moment of perfect clarity he understood the truth and felt a mountain of responsibility on his shoulders, the fate of the free world is in my hands! He wondered if his thoughts were conceited, unfortunately not, he accepted with deep sadness, it would appear that I really am that important. Suddenly he knew that a momentous decision had to be made, without me their plans will fail, they need the sword, obviously for some ritual or other, and to get the sword they need me. He swallowed hard before allowing himself to consider the options, face facts Gondell, if you are not around, they can't get their filthy hands on the sword,
the choice is simple.
There has to be another way, he pondered as he looked down at the terraces below wondering if the fall would kill him, I would just break myself, but still live long enough for them to get what they want, he decided. But what other option do I have?
Gondell took a step forward, edging cautiously toward the drop down to the first level.
“Hey, not so close,” called the Goblin in alarm, “We don't want you to have any accidents before the Master can meet you.”
“And when will I meet your Master?” asked Gondell as the first inkling of a desperate plan began to form in his head.
“Many days from now,” the Goblin guard nodded, obviously counting days in his head, “It depends on the desert, but not less than two weeks I would guess.”
Gondell stepped back from the edge and sat on the smooth polished black floor, “I don't even know your name, and we have talked for hours.”
“Grignasch,” replied the Goblin as he sat at Gondell's side, “My name is Grignasch.”
“It seems a little late for formal introductions,” the gnome chuckled, “But I'm Gondell, and I wish I could say I was pleased to meet you,” he laughed, “But I would probably say that if we had met under different circumstances.”
The Goblin turned with a curious look in his eye before slowly nodding, “To us you free worlders are all enemies, but I have to admit, I enjoy your company, our conversations are refreshing. My comrades have limited appetites for discourse,” he chuckled, “It has been nice to debate on subjects other than drinking and whoring and pillage.”
“When we finally get there, to where Lord Kangan is... I won't have long... will I?”
Gondell studied the Goblins expression intently, hunting for a spark of sympathy or remorse but found none, “Only hours,” Grignasch nodded, his face neutral.
I can't get to him through compassion, he understood swiftly, but what about greed? “I'm sure Ruaq will be rewarded generously for my delivery.” he added making the comment sound almost as an afterthought and sensed the Goblin flinch slightly.
“Ruaq!” the guard spat the name as though saying it left a bitter taste in his mouth, “Oh our captain will be a hero, the saviour of our people.”
Gondell laughed, mockery deeply embedded in his mirth, “It doesn't seem fair to me, you did all the work, it's you who has guarded and delivered me, not him.”
“Exactly, I gain nothing from this, but if you have remembered something?” he turned with expectancy in his eyes.
“No, sadly not, Grignasch, you have to believe me when I say I have never known anything, so it's impossible for me to remember something I never knew. But it still seems an injustice that you gain no benefit.”
Grignasch nodded before turning to the Gnome, his expression loaded with suspicion, “Why would you be concerned about me?”
Gondell grimaced and swallowed hard, “I'm a realist, there is no escape for me, I accept that. The fact that we have come this far tells me that I can forget the Guild, they can't track us through the tunnels. Grignasch, my fate is sealed, now that I have accepted that I just wish that a friend could benefit... rather than his captain.”
“I think that I understand you,” the guard nodded, “But what is there to do, we cannot change the past. Ruaq has you, that is a fact that I cannot change.”
Gondell rested his head on his knees for a moment, deep in thought, “Maybe we can't change the past...” he began hesitantly before grinning, “But we can change the future.”
“What do you mean?” Grignasch asked cautiously.
“Well,” Gondell chuckled and gave the Goblin a wink, “What would happen if Ruaq lost me along the way?”
“He would be executed,” laughed the guard, “But how does that help me?”
“Well, wouldn't it be a miracle if after mighty Captain Ruaq has failed, a humble scout named Grignasch recovered the prize?”
“It would certainly put me in good standing, and the reward and praise would be mine alone... but why do you suggest this, even if it is possible?”
“Time,” gasped Gondell, “More time. Grignasch, I am doomed, I know that is fact in my heart, I have two weeks left. Tell me something, how long have your people waited for an opportunity to resurrect Nilgoth?” he asked nodding down toward the tomb.
“Over one thousand years.” came the dispirited reply.
“So after waiting that long, what is another month or two? Grignasch, I don't want to die, but I am wise enough to understand that it is inevitable, I want to buy some time, time to prepare my mind, is that so much to ask?”
“Two months is not so long,” Grignasch replied as his cunning mind worked swiftly through the presented opportunity, “But it will take serious thought to make this work, what you have overlooked in your little plan is that if you get lost along the way, it is me that will be executed first, or is that what you had in mind?”
“Of course not,” snapped Gondell forcefully, “But I don't have all of the answers, we have to do this together, you know the road ahead, there must be places that are suitable for me to disappear, you must find a way to be relieved of guard duty, I cannot do these things for you. I gave you the idea, and I also give you my word that I will assist you where ever I can, but it is your responsibility to make it work.”
“You speak the truth my little mouse,” replied Grignasch thoughtfully, “I must think on this in depth, we will need a good share of luck, but I think it is possible.”
Two months! It's not long, but better than two weeks. Gondell admitted as he studied his guard, the seed now sown. A great deal can happen in two months, and maybe it will give the Guild the time they need, I just hope I'm as important to them as I am to the Goblins.