more westward.
“He is safe.” He said trying to reassure her. “Search your heart it will tell you the same.”
She sighed, “I know but I cannot help but worry just the same.”
“What do you hold in our hand?” He asked although he knew the answer.
“Connell’s ring.” D’Yana answered holding it up for the King to see.
“His mother gave that to him long ago.” The King said with a smile. “It was worn by his grandfather and means more to him than any thing he has ever owned.” Taking it from her hand he removed a silver chain from around his neck and threaded it through the ring.
“Speaking as a father,” He said slipping the chain about her neck. “I am pleased that you two have found each other.”
D’Yana looked up from the ring, a touch of fear in her eyes. “Are you, I am not of noble birth?”
Wolhan laughed. “So you are not spoiled, or skilled in the treachery of court politics.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “The fact that my son loves you is enough for me. You are of noble heart, any who says differently must do so before me.”
D’Yana impulsively hugged the King. “Thank you, King Wolhan.”
Wolhan returned her embrace. “Besides the Queen favors you, and I’ll do anything to avoid her wrath.”
D’Yana stepped back and laughed. “If only your son had your wisdom.”
King Wolhan’s face grew serious. “There is a caravan leaving for Rodderdam at dawn. They are taking the wounded with them.”
D’Yana lifted her head slightly a faint glimmer of defiance flitting across her face. “Why are you telling me this?” She asked firmly.
“It would be safer for you to accompany them. Timosh cannot stand long against the force arrayed before these walls. Already we have nearly been overrun.” He said looking westward. “Something is afoot, the Trolls have been clearing a broad path through the wood, and westward it leads. I believe they are preparing to bring something forward. A new evil that we are ill equipped to face.” He returned his wearied gaze to her eyes. “It would be better for you to be gone ere it arrives.”
D’Yana shook her head. “Though you are a king and leader of men, I must answer no. Have I not fought upon these walls? Are not my swords stained with the blood of our enemies?” She answered hotly, her cheeks flushed with anger. “It was bad enough to be left behind when my companions ventured forth into danger. I will not turn my back now.” Her voice softened and a smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Besides there are none here who could best me in combat. Good king Wolhan, my place is here.”
King Wolhan shrugged and smiled. “I tried.” He said with a laugh.
D’Yana hugged him once more. “That you did.” She laughed lightly. “Now that honor is satisfied, let us talk no more of my leaving.”
Chapter Six
Casius stood staring out into the vast crater of Tarok Nor. The bottom lay swathed in shadows; within the darkness ribbons of fire shone brightly the acidic smoke from their burning adding to the gloom below.
The jagged peaks of the Vurgwall encircled the great crater, fifty miles the scar stretched across the earth. In its center rose the smoking ruin of the great mountain Trothgar.
Reduced from its former glory it was little more than a ring of stone a mile high at its northern edge, dwindling to less than a few hundred feet at its southern reaches.
The calderas burned brightly, orange light flared beneath a towering column of dark smoke and ash that added to the chaos above them.
Deep rumbles echoed from within the hellish pit, competing with the thunderous booms of lightning above.
No sunlight penetrated the oppressive darkness above, leaving the entire crater in a perpetual twilight. Below them lay mile upon mile of fuming fields of ash and half melted rock. Dark clouds of poisonous gas drifted over the fire blasted landscape threatening death to any foolish enough to enter.
To the east the
“He is safe.” He said trying to reassure her. “Search your heart it will tell you the same.”
She sighed, “I know but I cannot help but worry just the same.”
“What do you hold in our hand?” He asked although he knew the answer.
“Connell’s ring.” D’Yana answered holding it up for the King to see.
“His mother gave that to him long ago.” The King said with a smile. “It was worn by his grandfather and means more to him than any thing he has ever owned.” Taking it from her hand he removed a silver chain from around his neck and threaded it through the ring.
“Speaking as a father,” He said slipping the chain about her neck. “I am pleased that you two have found each other.”
D’Yana looked up from the ring, a touch of fear in her eyes. “Are you, I am not of noble birth?”
Wolhan laughed. “So you are not spoiled, or skilled in the treachery of court politics.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “The fact that my son loves you is enough for me. You are of noble heart, any who says differently must do so before me.”
D’Yana impulsively hugged the King. “Thank you, King Wolhan.”
Wolhan returned her embrace. “Besides the Queen favors you, and I’ll do anything to avoid her wrath.”
D’Yana stepped back and laughed. “If only your son had your wisdom.”
King Wolhan’s face grew serious. “There is a caravan leaving for Rodderdam at dawn. They are taking the wounded with them.”
D’Yana lifted her head slightly a faint glimmer of defiance flitting across her face. “Why are you telling me this?” She asked firmly.
“It would be safer for you to accompany them. Timosh cannot stand long against the force arrayed before these walls. Already we have nearly been overrun.” He said looking westward. “Something is afoot, the Trolls have been clearing a broad path through the wood, and westward it leads. I believe they are preparing to bring something forward. A new evil that we are ill equipped to face.” He returned his wearied gaze to her eyes. “It would be better for you to be gone ere it arrives.”
D’Yana shook her head. “Though you are a king and leader of men, I must answer no. Have I not fought upon these walls? Are not my swords stained with the blood of our enemies?” She answered hotly, her cheeks flushed with anger. “It was bad enough to be left behind when my companions ventured forth into danger. I will not turn my back now.” Her voice softened and a smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Besides there are none here who could best me in combat. Good king Wolhan, my place is here.”
King Wolhan shrugged and smiled. “I tried.” He said with a laugh.
D’Yana hugged him once more. “That you did.” She laughed lightly. “Now that honor is satisfied, let us talk no more of my leaving.”
Chapter Six
Casius stood staring out into the vast crater of Tarok Nor. The bottom lay swathed in shadows; within the darkness ribbons of fire shone brightly the acidic smoke from their burning adding to the gloom below.
The jagged peaks of the Vurgwall encircled the great crater, fifty miles the scar stretched across the earth. In its center rose the smoking ruin of the great mountain Trothgar.
Reduced from its former glory it was little more than a ring of stone a mile high at its northern edge, dwindling to less than a few hundred feet at its southern reaches.
The calderas burned brightly, orange light flared beneath a towering column of dark smoke and ash that added to the chaos above them.
Deep rumbles echoed from within the hellish pit, competing with the thunderous booms of lightning above.
No sunlight penetrated the oppressive darkness above, leaving the entire crater in a perpetual twilight. Below them lay mile upon mile of fuming fields of ash and half melted rock. Dark clouds of poisonous gas drifted over the fire blasted landscape threatening death to any foolish enough to enter.
To the east the
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