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32: The Voice of the Beast

Pike could no longer run. Rather he stumbled over a floor of gnarled roots, falling into sudden hollows and scrambling out again. At first he had simply ran in terror of the unfriendly eyes that seemed to peer at him from all around. But now he could no longer run, hunger and weariness had numbed the fear. He felt as if he were dead already. Gone were the memories of the sunlit glades of his home that he had been taken from. Gone were the soft, deep voices of the trees and the gentle whisper of wind through their branches. Within the dreadful forest of the Black Vale, it was as if those peaceful memories had been but illusions, had never existed.

His father had taken him deep within the Vale and left him there by a brook of muddy water. “Live,” was his father’s sole command to him. “Escape this place if you will, but the men who hunt by the edges of the valley will kill you like an animal. Live, and you will be worthy of the blood in your veins. I will return…”

With that, his father and his grim companions had rode away into the shadows. Since then, the fear that the young boy had for the man that called himself his father had long since vanished. Now he would have almost wished for that man to return and take him far, far away from that misty place that even the light of sun and moon seemed to shun. At first he had avoided the stream of black water that slithered along the forest floor, but at last Pike had succumbed to his thirst and drank from it. It tasted foul, yet sickeningly sweet. Before long, a great dizziness overcame him and he wretched up black bile, falling into unconsciousness. When he woke again, he walked as if in a dream, following the river upstream, beckoned by some unknown force. There was a presence in the stream, some power which spread throughout all the Vale, and all lesser things were its thralls. Onward he went, deeper into the net of fear, but Pike was numb to it, had given himself over to it. He no longer had any will left to flee from it.

At long last, he found the source of the stream, a foetid spring which seemed to spew forth the cloying mist. And there, towering above the spring like some jealous guardian was a tree of grey and black bark, leafless, whose roots coiled around the spring and plunged into the reeking water. Here, then, was the source of the fear. The power which held the entire valley in its grasp.

Pike felt the presence of something near. He looked around. In the shadows between trees, Pike could vaguely see tall figures, fading in and out of view. They were drawing nearer. Small lights, like glaring eyes, appeared and disappeared suddenly. From all around, Pike could hear voices, voices of anger and despair, and a desire for bloody vengeance.

Pike called out. And the Beast answered.

Pike woke up with a start, though he quickly forgot why. He sat there, panting heavily. Looking around, he found himself sitting on a bed in a room of carven stone, small but still barred by a heavy wooden door. His mind was racing, trying to recollect his memories and figure out where he was. In a panic, he shot up out of the bed, but when his foot hit the stone floor his leg gave way and he fell forward with a crash. He found he could hardly move his limbs. His mind swam.

Damn…he thought too himself. Did I drink too much last night? The last thing he remembered was drawing his sword as he stood before the iron-clad warriors, Myra behind him. He had let his mental walls down… summoned the Voice… and then there was nothing but blackness…

He heard the echo of heavy footfalls from outside the room, drawing nearer, until the unseen stranger stopped before the door and swung it open, creaking loudly on its hinges.

Pike twitched and jerked, trying to move his limbs, if not to fight then to drag himself away. But heavy hands grabbed him by the arms and practically threw him back into the bed, and none too gently. Through misty vision, Pike saw a strange, angular face glaring. Its eyes were black, but gleamed like dark jewels veined with silver. It was a dwarf, wearing a velvet robe and peering at him through a pair spectacles above a long nose and white beard. Pike glanced towards the door. Though all seemed blurry, he could see the figure of an armed fighter standing by the open door.

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Unable to move his limbs, he lay still and kept quiet while the bespectacled dwarf grabbed his face and studied his eye closely, as if trying to look behind the eye and into his mind. It drew back and shook its head, as if disappointed. Moving to a wooden shelf, it took up what looked like an ornate pipe. Holding a burning taper to it, the dwarf took a long draw on it. Moving back to Pike’s side, it leaned close and exhaled a torrent of smoke into his face. Pike coughed and swore heavily, but his mind grew heavy. He heard the sounds of receding footsteps, the slam of the door, and he quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

He began to stir again, hearing once again the sound of someone walking towards the door. Getting tired of trying to write fancy, I’ve decided that Erasmus suddenly walks through the door. Erasmus looked in surprise at Pike, leaning against the shelf and aiming a spoon at him like a weapon.

“Erasmus? What the hell…?”

“By the Powers! Pike, you’re awake at last!”

“What do you mean? Where am I?”

“After the… incident… you passed into a coma. You’ve been kept in this room for five days straight.”

“Five days!” Pike shot up with a start. “How? Why? This is bad… we’ve been kept here too long… we have to get back on trail soon, and…”

“Take it easy,” said Erasmus. “I am eager to hit the road again too and continue on our way. But I could hardly do that by myself, and you had to be treated until it was certain you were safe. They would not even allow me to see you until now.”

“‘They’?” Pike stood up on wobbly legs, leaning heavily against the table. “Who is ‘they’.”

“The dwarves, of course.” Erasmus paused for the moment before a smile creased his face. He threw back his head and laugh heartily.

“What’s so funny?”

Erasmus forced himself to stop and wiped a tear from his eyes. “I never imagined that I would say something like that so casually. I fear I’ve almost gotten used to all these strange things. I thought those Troll-men back in the forest were fantastic, but they at least still seemed… well… human. This dwarf-mountain, it’s like a whole other world…”

“That’s great and all, but… aren’t you a prisoner?”

“Prisoner? No. Well… not anymore. A lot has happened in such a short time. Here I am yapping while we both only know half the story each. But what in the world happened to you, Pike? How’d you get in here? And what of the others?”

“There is time enough yet for tale-telling,” said a raspy voice from the doorway. “You’re friend here does not seem to be strong enough yet for travelling. And counsel must be taken concerning the course you must take.”

Erasmus turned around to look at the young dwarf that had entered the room. “Ah, Fray. Good morning… I think. I understand we can’t leave yet, but we cannot stay long. We have a quest and all that.”

“Aye, but it can’t be helped. When this ‘Pike’ is ready to stand on his on two legs again, the two of you may join the king and queen in the great hall. Then will be the time to swap tales and consider what you might do next.”

“Thank you Fray. But, at least can you tell us if there has been any news of our company?”

Fray shook his head. “Not that I know of. But I think that should be a comfort. We’ll explain more later, but know that there are other bands of strangers roaming about this land. Better for your friends to be long gone from here.”

The dwarf then looked to Pike. “Surely you will have knowledge concerning that matter, stranger?”

Pike nodded slowly, thinking carefully about what to say next. “Erda and the others continued on west when… I left them. That’s all I know.”

That seemed to reassure Erasmus a little.

“Then what remains is to decide what the two of you will do next,” said Fray. “But let’s save that for the council. When you feel ready, Mister Pike, you will find a washing-basin ready for you and some fresh clothes in that cupboard over there.”

“Ummm… okay.” Pike was still trying to figure out his current situation. Last thing he remembered was fighting off an ambush of dwarves in some dark cave. He had expected something a bit more dire than a bath.

“I will have food summoned as well, for both of you. Dinner will be served in the hall of course, but might as well eat your fill now before the talking begins. You especially, Mister Pike, are the greatest mystery in all this. I hope the lords don’t interrogate you too fiercely.” The dwarf laughed and strode out of the door.

“I’m afraid he’s right,” said Erasmus. “They’re not too sure about you… do you remember anything from when you were… well… possessed?”

Pike remembered falling…a strange world of crystals all around… a voice in his head… a man with one eye… “Can’t recall anything at the moment…”