Читать книгу The Portaellen War Chronicles - C.P. Bird - Страница 10

Chapter Three

The Wulfdaeden Portal Point

Portaellen

Normauss had sprung out of the portal at Hells Point, (an inhospitable place, located in the wild north, of Wulfdaeden), wearing only the dirty cloak, he had been wearing, upon entry. He looked dishevelled and angry. This, as you will come to realise, is the troll’s normal look. If, at any point, he is being nice, he is only adapting to his situation, until he can return, to his more natural state.

Normauss glanced back briefly to watch, as the window of the portal, slowly closed until it was completely gone, from view, in the dark sky.

It had just begun to drizzle. Normauss shivered, as he pulled the hood of the cloak, over his head.

Making his way cautiously down the dark, rugged corridors of the ravine, the troll, remained vigilant. He felt a constant need to look around, at every nook and cranny that he could see, through the fine rain and darkness, as he continued, along the path. Normauss tried not to think about, what could be lurking, in the cold inky blackness, that his eyes could not penetrate. It felt, as if the rock formations and the night, would swallow him up, at any moment.

Normauss suddenly halted, in his tracks. He could see four red eyes, transfixed on him. The troll took the impulsive decision, to remain, where he stood. He was shaking. The combination, of the fine rain soaking him to the skin, and fear, caused his body to tremble. A cold shiver shot down his spine. He knew, who those red eyes belonged to.

The four red eyes were set into the two skulls of a creature, as black as night, who patrols Hells Point. It, is a two headed, black hound, built of pure muscle and power. The creature is thought to be, the only type of its breed. A deformed mutation.

He was found wandering through Hells Point as a puppy, lost, lonely and near death. It was thought that the creature, was abandoned by its mother. So, it was taken in by the local regiment, of Blackheart knights. They trained him, to hunt, track and kill. They watched, as the creature developed and evolved, through his early years.

Eventually, upon reaching adulthood, the hound was put to good use, guarding the ravine. Here, he developed new skills to survive the conditions, that he lived and hunted in. The name given to him; was Beorn. He would become known as, The Hound of Hells Point.

‘Good evening Beorn,’ Normauss called out. His voice wavered ever so slightly when he first spoke. ‘It’s me,’ he continued, ‘Normauss.’

Slowly, the troll walked towards the four red eyes, his hand gingerly held out, in a gesture of friendship. He had hoped, to feel the touch of the creature’s wet fur. And, not to lose his hand.

Normauss whimpered slightly, as two sets of yellow fangs, and four red eyes, suddenly crept closer, towards him, through the dark. Beorn, then let out, one deep and extremely aggressive bark, that shook the troll, to the core. The hound looked ready for the kill, as he came into view. The copious amounts, of foaming saliva, dripping from his fangs, did little to quell, the troll’s fear. The two sets of red eyes now narrowed and Beorn began to growl.

He looks possessed, Normauss thought to himself. The troll could now sense that the hound wanted blood.

‘Don’t, come any closer Normauss,’ a deep voice said, from the shadows. ‘You know, he’ll rip you to pieces.’

‘I thought, just maybe, he would recognise me, for once,’ Normauss whined.

‘You know, he loves troll meat,’ came the instant reply.

Normauss, did not answer. He chose instead, to stay perfectly still, as he eyed every move, that Beorn now made.

‘Stay there troll. Do not move.’

Normauss, listened to the advice, and remained rooted to the spot.

‘Beorn. Heel. Good boy.’ The command, from the shadows, instantly bought the creature, to a standstill.

Normauss breathed a huge sigh of relief. He now watched, as Beorn turned slowly, to face the other way, and walked towards the voice. He listened, as the hound, continued to growl, whilst dragging his heavy feet, across the rock-strewn floor, towards the voice.

‘Good boy,’ the voice, was now a lot calmer and soothing. ‘For you.’

Normauss, suddenly heard something heavy, thud to the ground. Moments later, came the sound of gnashing teeth, and the tearing of flesh. Followed by the grinding of bone. Hearing the sound, of the corpse being consumed, caused the troll to shudder once more, and slowly retreat, back on himself, into the relative safety, of the darkness.

Normauss watched, as four men promptly appeared from out of the shadows up ahead. They were dressed, in the red robes of Wulfdaeden. They wore black armour on their upper bodies that showed the symbol of their country’s flag. The Tri-Lance.

One of the men, a knight, of obvious strength and agility, with a scar of significant length, going down his left cheek, stepped forward, as a loud rumble of thunder, echoed through the ravine.

‘We have orders, from our master and king, to bring you urgently, to the Fortress Of Fear. He impatiently awaits your report. He threw, Normauss a blanket. ‘For you troll. Put it on.’ He growled, ‘We wouldn’t want you getting a chill.’ The knight’s tone was sarcastic, as he finished, ‘Would we men?’

‘No,’ mocked his men, as they replied together.

‘All right. Thanks. Saves me a walk,’ replied Normauss, as a stupid grin, suddenly emerged, across his face. He, then proceeded, to pick up the blanket, and throw it over his soddened robes. ‘Nice blanket. Thanks.’ As he spoke, Normauss winked at the knight, who had thrown him, the blanket.

The knight didn’t seem impressed with the troll’s childish remark. As, he grabbed Normauss’s wrist, he scowled at him, before sharply pulling him, past Beorn.

Beorn, was not interested in Normauss, anymore. The hound’s heads were still ripping apart the carcass, that had been given to them.

Normauss watched briefly as the two headed creature, ripped flesh from the bone. He shuddered, once again, as one head, suddenly turned, to stare at him.

‘Come on troll. We have no time to lose,’ stated the knight.

Normauss, suddenly gasped, as the dark sky, unexpectedly exploded, with a white flash of lightning. It lit the whole ravine briefly, to reveal the secrets within, the darkness, and its shadows.

For a fleeting moment, the troll saw the narrow corridor, of the ravine, through the jagged, black rocks that seemed to go on forever, into the blackness, and beyond.

The drizzle had now turned, to heavy rain. Thunder, suddenly exploded overhead, like a thousand cannons, echoing down the ravine. Normauss, covered his ears. He hated the thunder of Hells Point, more than its lightning.

Without any warning, the troll was abruptly hoisted, onto the back, of one of the knights black steeds.

A lightning bolt, then shot from the dark, rumbling sky, and hit a gnarled old tree trunk, that hung from a ledge above them. The trunk instantaneously burst into flames and came crashing down onto the ravine floor.

One of the black steeds, became spooked, and reared up, on its hind legs. Its rider was almost thrown, as he struggled to stay on his mount.

‘Time to go,’ came, the instantaneous order, as another rumble of thunder, exploded above their heads.

As, they sped away, down the dark, and narrow, rocky ravine, of Hells Point, Normauss held on, for his dear life.

Looking up, at the inky, night sky, the troll shook, as the angry, sky exploded once more, with all its fury.

Normauss, thanked the Gods, that he was leaving this place. The place, where those same Gods, had positioned, Wulfdaeden’s one and only portal.

***

The foreboding sight, of the Fortress Of Fear, came into view for the riders, as they reached the brow of a steep hill. Negotiating, the unpredictable terrain, as they made their way down the treacherous slope of the hill, proved tricky, for the riders and their steed’s. The ground was soft and uneven, and littered with stones, that tested the hooves of the knight’s mounts.

Normauss, was being thrown around, like a rag doll. He became nervous, every time the back legs, of his ride slipped.

The troll had only been to the fortress, once before. And, this was the first time, that he had seen it from the north. Viewing it from the vista, of the steep hill, had enhanced the dominant look of the enormous structure, and its high, soaring towers, that disappeared up, into the night sky.

According to legend, the towers in the four corners, rose high above the clouds, strong and proud. Each, with a Tri-lance flag, proudly raised.

The fortress has high, thick stone walls that were a mile wide on all sides. Inside, the impenetrable walls, is a city. The whole structure is built into the side, of a granite cliff, that disappears up, into the dark sky.

The area is known, as the Badlands. The capital, of Wulfdaeden.

As, the riders reached the flat, muddy ground, that surrounded the fortress, Normauss could see a strange mist, that looked as if it was going to surround them. He quickly noticed that it had developed, some density.

The thick, choking fog, rapidly enveloped, everything around it, as it swirled and danced amongst them, with menace.

Nervously, the troll strained his eyes to see. He, suddenly twitched, to his left, when he heard, several faint, and barely audible moans and groans. They began to grow in volume. It wasn’t long, before there were moans, groans and voices speaking, all around them.

Normauss, had heard about the fog before. This was the first time; he had experienced it. Other trolls had told him about it, around the campfires, back home.

Tales were told of innocent trolls and Fantaellen’s being captured, tortured, then killed, in the fortress. The fog is said to be, the faceless, souls of those beings, and is called, The Fog of Lost Souls.

The further, they rode into the fog, the thicker it became, and the more amplified, the moans grew. Periodic screams startled the troll which, were followed by crying, and voices of despair and pain.

What, Normauss experienced as he rode towards a meeting with his master, made him feel such pain and despair, unlike anything he had ever felt before. The troll, uncharacteristically, began to cry. Something, he never did. Even, as a young troll.

‘First time, through the fog?’ growled, a Blackheart knight, who could see the troll’s anxiety.

‘Yes,’ Normauss mumbled.

The thick fog slowly dissipated, and the riders could see a little further into the distance. This was the moment that the imposing, and grandiose magnificence, of the Fortress Of Fear, suddenly came into view.

Normauss the troll’s eyes opened wide, in wonderment, and he instantly gasped, at the incredible sight before him. Words, defied him, at this moment. All he could do, was stare.

It wasn’t long, before the riders, came into the view of the Blackheart guards, along the battlements. A call suddenly rang out, from inside the huge, thick walls, to lower the drawbridge.

The enormous drawbridge of the fortress was slowly lowered, as the riders approached. The enormously long, iron chains, that pulled the extensive structure, creaked and groaned, as they took the weight, and the tension.

When, the drawbridge, was close to the ground, it was suddenly dropped, and an instantaneous, loud impact, violently shook, the earth. Hundreds of black Ravens, immediately scattered from the battlements, startled by the thundering noise.

Normauss, himself, was rattled and shaken. His mount had reared up upon the impact, which had caused the ground beneath them to violently shake.

The startled troll had held on to his rider, for dear life, whilst, the Blackheart knight, controlled the panicked animal. Eventually, with the stroke of its mane, the calm hand, had worked.

As, the riders made their way towards the drawbridge, Normauss, strained his neck to see. Looking up, at the black stone walls, that seemed to go beyond, the dark sky above, the troll, could just about see, the guards on the walls, and hear the orders, being called out. His attention was taken, by the flickering torches, and movement, from the windows and arrow slits, spread across, the enormous structure.

The drawbridge, seemed to go on forever, as the hooves of the riders, thundered towards, the main gate. The extremely high, stone built arch way, lit by torches, fixed on to the stonework, now opened up, as the portcullis, was raised, by its chains.

The troll’s heart began to pound in his chest. His short, stocky, hairy legs, turned to jelly, as they neared. Suddenly they rode through, the stone arch way of the main gate coming to a halt in the dark, dimly lit courtyard.

Normauss now felt the sudden overpowering feelings, that he had experienced, the first time he came to the fortress. He had hoped, that on his next visit, the feeling of dread and fear, would not have taken over his senses, and reduced him to a nervous wreck. He had been wrong.

Without warning, the troll, was suddenly and unceremoniously pulled from his mount, and before he could protest, he was thrown to the ground. Normauss gasped, as he hit the hard, stone cobbles, with such force, that his whole body jolted on impact.

A couple of the Blackheart knights laughed, as they watched the troll struggle to compose himself as a sharp pain, pulsed through his body. Defiantly, Normauss got to his feet, whilst gasping for air, gulping it in, as he struggled to breath.

‘This way troll,’ came the order. ‘Now!’

A forceful shove from behind, propelled Normauss forward. For a brief moment, he stumbled, before regaining his footing. The shaken troll suddenly grabbed hold of his left hand, which had begun to shake.

‘I’m going, to rip your heart out,’ he mumbled to himself, and to nobody in particular. His hidden fear had now turned to anger. His hand, had all of a sudden, stopped shaking.

Scornfully, the troll stared at a Blackheart knight, as he was marched past him, towards a large wooden door. The guard didn’t even notice the small troll, who cursed and mumbled as he passed.

Normauss, became breathless, upon reaching, the top of a long, spiral staircase. His short legs had struggled the climb up, as the stone steps, seemed to go on forever. At certain points, the troll became quite claustrophobic. Especially, when the stairs narrowed. It felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He did have to stop on several occasions to regain his composure, whilst, behind him, several Blackhearts, pushed him, ever upwards.

Normauss, had been marched down several long corridors when his nervous feelings started all over again. His left hand, began to shake, once more. Anger, was once again, replaced by fear.

What is that?

The troll could hear something, albeit, very distant. The hairs, on the back of his neck, had begun to stand up. It was faint at first, but slowly became, more pronounced. They were, indeed, voices, he told himself.

Either side of him, shadows slowly appeared, that instantly formed, into human shapes. Visibly, they seemed to be dancing, within the torchlight on the walls.

Then, without warning, the shadows raced along the walls and ceiling, towards the other end of the corridor.

‘Come,’ they hissed. ‘Come, this way, to the master’s War Room.’

A shadow, above Normauss’s head pointed the way. The troll watched as a faint and undistinctive face suddenly appeared in the dark form. The featureless profile quickly disappeared before the shadow, raced along the ceiling towards the other end of the corridor.

They were swiftly surrounded on all sides, by more shadow figures, who spoke in whispers too, that became more audible, the further they walked. Normauss, could not work out, what they said. It seemed like, an ancient, Wulfdaeden language. It was all around them now. The further they walked, towards a lone doorway, at the bottom of the corridor, the louder, the voices became.

Suddenly, the chorus of voices started to chant repeated, unclear words. The troll watched, as human shapes, formed into shadows, and danced on the walls. The chanting became louder and louder, to the point where, Normauss had to cover his ears.

Then, without any warning, the shadows, swiftly disappeared. It became eerily silent and still.

Down the corridor, an icy, cold wind blew, and the torches on the walls, flickered.

Normauss shuddered, as he was shoved, down the corridor, towards the only door, at the far end.

One of the Blackheart knights beat his big, heavy fist, once, on the large wooden door. He then, stood back and waited, to be called in.

Silence.

‘Knock again,’ came a faint voice, from the shadows, behind them. ‘You must always knock, three times.’

Three heavy knocks at the door, one after the other, vibrated down the corridor.

‘Enter!’ a voice boomed.

Normauss was encouraged, with the tip of a blade in his back, to open the door, by one of the Blackheart knights. Reluctantly, the troll turned the handle, and then took, several cautious steps, into a dimly lit room.

Though, he could see very little, Normauss ventured further in, constantly looking around, as he did so.

He was always vigilant in every situation that he found himself in. But he was feeling very vulnerable for the first time in a while.

Normauss, began to feel as if he were suffocating. A panic, took over, as his pulse raced. It felt as if his heart would explode.

‘I have, to get out of here,’ he mumbled.

The troll was just about to do just that when he heard deep breathing from somewhere in the room.

‘Hello!’ he called out. ‘Who is there?’

Normauss thought that he had heard movement to his left, so he swiftly turned on his heels.

‘Normauss,’ came, a low whisper, from over his shoulder. This caused the startled troll, to cry out, before his legs and feet became lead, and he was rooted to the spot.

From behind him the troll felt a cold hand suddenly grab his neck. This was quickly followed by a heavy crack on the back of his skull.

Almost instantly the lights went out in Normauss’s world as his body slumped onto the floor.