Mary Herbert - Valorian

He pulled off his gold armband and set it on his knee in easy reach, leaned back against Hunnul’s front legs, and closed his eyes. He felt the magic begin to gather within him. The sounds of the world around him gradually faded to silence as his mind ranged outward to touch the stallion’s being. Because of their earlier meld, his thoughts found Hunnul’s very quickly and merged perfectly into the horse’s consciousness.

Valorian felt Hunnul’s vast strength surge through him as hot and vivid as lightning. He realized, with a start of surprise, that traces of the lightning bolt’s power were still within his horse. He hadn’t noticed it before because he had been concentrating on Hunnul’s mind, but now as he drew energy from the stallion’s muscle, bone, and blood he could feel the crackling touch of the lightning sizzle through his every fiber.

Borne on the power of the black stallion, Valorian sent his consciousness questing out of his body to find the soul of the dead warrior beside him. He didn’t know what to expect by such an attempt, or if it was even possible to separate his mind from his body. Yet with the magic, it seemed to work. He felt himself become weightless and lose all sense of feeling as his conscious self stepped out of the mortal bonds of his body.

His eyes opened. It startled him to see his body sitting by the horse not more than two paces away, and for a moment, he was afraid he had performed his spell too well and perhaps separated his soul from his body. Then he noticed his chest was moving slightly in and out, and a small trickle of blood was flowing from a cut on his arm. He was still alive.

Elated, he looked about for the soul of the dead man at his side. The world he had entered looked much the same as when he was struck by lightning. The mortal realm was out of focus and bright with an unearthly diffused light. But unlike the time before, the world of the living was not vanishing before his eyes. Valorian soon found the dead man’s soul close by, confused, angry, and frightened. The chieftain knew those feelings well. He reached out to the dead man to reassure him and together they waited.

In eternity, there is no sense of time, and while Valorian thought the wait was terribly long, in reality, the Harbingers came before his body had drawn another breath. There were two of them this time, as shining white and enigmatic as Valorian remembered. They had brought a saddled steed for the man’s soul and invited him to mount. If they sensed Valorian’s presence, they paid no attention to it.

Swifter than eagles they flew out of the mortal world into the curtain of mists, while Valorian’s mind followed, using his touch with the dead warrior as a guide. He was glad he had the warrior to accompany him, for the passage through’ the thick gray mist was longer than he recalled. Without the Harbingers and the soul for company, he could have become disoriented and lost forever in the eternal mists. He tried not to think how he was going to get back alone.

At last they broke through into the blessed light and touched down on the plains of the realm of the dead. With the mountain of Ealgoden in sight, Valorian’s mind bade a silent, sad farewell to his companion and sped over the green fields to the massive peak. He wondered if the gods knew he was there. He hoped they didn’t Lord Sorh might not appreciate a mortal borrowing one of his servants. He pushed the thought aside when Ealgoden’s peak loomed beneath him. This time he didn’t need to search for a doorway. He went directly to the entrance he had used before and plunged through the black rock into the cold, dark tunnel.

An intense aura of hatred and malice immediately struck him like a physical blow from the small, cunning minds of the gorthlings. It was a powerful mental sensation that he hadn’t picked up when his soul traveled through Gormoth, and it nearly smothered him in its depth and strength. He fought off the destructive aura with every bit of his and Hunnul’s combined strength and concentrated instead on finding a gorthling as quickly as possible.

He knew they were there in the rocks and crevices of the tunnel walls, waiting for condemned souls to come down the road, but he didn’t know exactly where to look, and he didn’t want to alert them by poking haphazardly into possible hiding places. However, there was one gorthling he remembered vividly, plus the place in the tunnel where it had been hiding. Perhaps it was still there. His mind probed deeper and deeper into the black holes. He didn’t need lights this time to find his way, but he wished for one if only to dispel the terrifying, devouring darkness. Like a wraith, he slipped along the trail, past the lava river, and down the long, twisting passages.

At last he came to the section of tunnel where the gorthling had tried to snatch his dagger. As he had hoped, the little beast was hiding in a crevice waiting to torment approaching souls. Valorian gathered his magic into a powerful kinetic force, channeled it through his mental link into Gormoth, and snatched the gorthling out of its hiding place before it realized its danger. It gave a furious screech of alarm.

In an instant, every gorthling was aware of Valorian’s presence and came swarming to stop him. The chief sensed rather than knew that if they caught up with him, they could . imprison his consciousness with their own powerful, cunning thoughts. Desperately he pulled his mind through the tunnels, taking the gorthling with him.

The other creatures ran furiously after him. Valorian pushed faster, holding the gorthling in his mental grip. He slowly forged ahead of the pursuers and reached the entrance before they could trap him. He didn’t know if the magic command to open the door would work from the inside, but he tried it anyway and was rewarded when the door cracked open. The darkness and the furious cries of the gorthlings vanished into light as Valorian brought himself and his prisoner out of Gormoth. Before the other gorthlings could escape, he slammed the door shut again and came hurtling back across the realm of the dead.

Too quickly they entered the mists that were the barrier between the mortal and immortal realms before the man had a chance to get his bearings. Now Valorian had no guide. He wasn’t sure how wide the mists were or which direction to turn. His mind became disoriented by the total lack of sight, sensation, or physical touch, and his momentum stumbled to a halt. He probed this way and that into the blank mists and found nothing. Fingers of panic began to clutch at his consciousness.

The gorthling in his grip cackled in glee at his predicament. Then it stiffened angrily.

Far away, on the edge of the mists came a voice, masculine, strong, and rich in timbre . Master! We are here! This way. It was Hunnul, his being reaching out to Valorian. The chieftain raced after the beloved voice, its touch like a light glowing in the darkness.

Suddenly he was back in the warm, dim shelter, with the noises of horses and men assailing his ears and the pressure of Hunnul’s legs against his back. Startled, he blinked and felt something squirm in his hands.

Master, the armband! Hunnul reminded him urgently.

Valorian snatched the gold armband and shoved it over the head of the furiously struggling creature in his grasp. When the gold settled around its neck, the gorthling subsided in his hands. Its high-pitched squeal of rage brought everyone’s attention snapping around to the chief.

“Gods above, what is that?” Karez gasped. They all stared in horrified surprise at the little, wizened beast crouched like a hairless, desiccated monkey on Valorian’s arm.

Another warrior cried, “That’s a gorthling! You’ve brought one of those things out of Gormoth?”

There was a collective exclamation of revulsion and horror, and everyone jumped back against the stone wall.