Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,18
of the courtyard. They all turned to him. The crimson-clad mage made his way through the crowd.
Tolan stared up at him with tear-filled eyes, his dead comrade in his arms. Jorrel stood with his jaw open.
“The armies from the mist wield a piece of the Grimstone. That is why their magic is so strong. That is how they broke through the mist. They are now seeking the rest of the stone. They must be stopped! The North will fall, and they will move on until they find what they’re looking for.”
Jorrel turned to Tolan. “The Grimstone? The fabled stone that’s in missing pieces?”
Tolan shook his head.
“Yes,” Sooth-Malesh said. “One piece has been found. It has started a path of destruction that will cut right through Athora.”
“Tolan,” Jorrel continued. “I am sorry that I did not listen.”
“Our friends are dead,” Tolan said. “Our lands are in danger. This enemy has already taken the North. I tried to tell you, I tried to tell you all! This is what our hesitation has reaped! This is what our ignorance has given us! There is much more out there than Cardoon! We are all connected! If one falls, we all fall!”
“Forgive me, I should have listened. I should have gone to the King.”
“It’s not too late,” Sooth-Malesh said. “We must stop this army from finding the stones.”
“Stop them, we shall,” Tolan said. He gestured to a few soldiers who came and carried away the body of their fallen friend. “This is an attack on Cardoon, and attack on our world and all we love about it. We will not just stop them; we will send them back from whence they came!”
The men around him cheered, including Jorrel and Geyess.
“Mount the cavalry,” Jorrel called. “We will defend the weakened North, and save Bhrungach. Tolan, you will lead them?”
Tolan stood at attention. “All riders, to me!”
The crimson mage went to Tolan, laying his withered hand on his shoulder. “I will ride with you, as your battle mage.”
Tolan smiled. “No, my friend. You haven’t been a battle mage in over sixty years. Your magic is not up to that, these days. You must stay here, protect Cardoon, and scry the battles.”
Sooth-Malesh looked at him with disappointment, but nodded. “Of course. May Thet watch over you.”
Tolan didn’t like refusing him, but he was not the fierce mage he used to be, and his magic these days was little more than amusement for the King. Tolan nodded back and ran to the armory with his men, picking out the strongest, sharpest weapons the city had to offer.
The gates opened, the trumpets sounded, and a single bell rang in the spires. The cavalry of Cardoon rode out to battle.
From the spires, Sooth-Malesh watched, and the skies darkened. Black clouds thickened, and the morning sun dimmed against the scourge of war.
###
They’d held out all night, but the battle was beginning to take its toll. Olani wept with her handmaidens and servant girls; Nachin sat in the corner, watching, his face in shadow. Somewhere in the depths of the tunnels, the council of old men cringed.
Debris rained down upon those hiding in the tunnels. The smell of soot and burning flesh flooded their senses. The structures trembled.
Olani feared the worst. Were the walls even still up? Was the city filled with strange, fierce creatures? What of her people above? Were there any left?
She looked up at the ceiling, dust assaulting her, and prayed quietly.
Monstrous, guttural howls wafted in the winds of war, the whistle of catapulting boulders cut through the air. The sound of thunder cracked, but above all the din, Olani heard the sound of trumpets: soft, fighting to call above the sound of war.
A sliver of hope entered her heart, and her tears halted. Those around her noticed her demeanor shift, and their eyes brightened.
All was not lost.
###
Tolan led the men through the North’s lush, green lands. Above him, the sky shrouded with dark, black clouds. Wind lashed at his face; the smell of death was in it.
He came upon Bhrungach’s grand carriage roads, and took the main path to the city proper. The sound of war grew louder as they approached. Tolan snapped his reins harder, the horses galloped faster, the horns blared more loudly.
The young soldier’s heart slammed against his chest, his adrenaline rushed through every part of his body. Hoisting his spear above his head, his men armed themselves, spears aloft, bows loaded.
The city towers came into view above the hemlock trees and the firs. One of