D. MacHale - The Merchant of Death

“I told you, Pendragon,” he said with a smile. “You can’t beat me.”

Denduron

The Milago miners charged out of the forest. The attack was on.

The Bedoowan knights didn’t budge. They wanted to see what these bold peasants had planned. The first line of miners stopped and loaded their slingshots with tak. On command they flung their explosives at the waiting Bedoowan. The small tak bombs flew across the battlefield and exploded on impact. But they had fallen far short of the front line of the Bedoowan defense. If they were going to do any damage, they were going to have to get closer, which meant they had to put themselves within range of the Bedoowan archers.

The Bedoowan on the other hand, were surprised by the explosions that blasted down in front of them. Except for the quig that had been blown to bits in the stadium, they had never witnessed anything like this. There was a movement along the lines to retreat, but the Bedoowan commander wouldn’t let them budge. They were going to hold their ground. The Bedoowan commander sent a line of shield carriers to the front. These brave men stood in line like a barrier of steel and flesh to protect their comrades from the incoming missiles. Behind them, the archers stood ready to release their arrows as soon as the Milago miners were in range. This was going to get real ugly, real quick.

But I didn’t know any of this until afterward. Right now I had my own problem to deal with, which was Saint Dane. There was no way out. We were trapped by two cave-ins that were caused by Figgis’s booby traps. The only way out of this seemed to be through the flume. But it might as well have been a mile away because standing between us and the gate was Saint Dane.

“You brought the tak here, didn’t you?” I spat at the guy.

“I did no such thing!” he said, acting all innocent. “Tak is natural to Denduron. Figgis discovered this vein several years ago.”

He walked over to one of the walls and scraped off a layer of dirt with his hand. As the dirt fell away, I saw beneath it the familiar rusty red color of tak. I looked to Loor and for the first time since we met, she looked scared. That’s because she realized, as I did, that this entire cavern was made of tak. The bomb we had dissolved in the stadium was like a firecracker compared to this cavern…and we were standing in the middle of it.

“Figgis thought the miners could use the tak to help them tunnel through the rock,” Saint Dane explained. “It was noble of him, but he was a merchant and he thought like one. He wanted to help the miners, but he also wanted to make a profit.”

The evil Traveler walked over to the skeleton that used to be Figgis and nudged the bones with his foot. “I can’t say that I blame him, but his greed proved to be his undoing. He set traps all over this cavern to protect his precious find. Unfortunately one of them backfired.”

He kicked Figgis’s skull and it rolled away from the body and landed at our feet. I wanted to kick it back just to keep it away from me, but that would have been gross.

“So you came to Denduron and took his place,” I said. “And you showed the Milago miners how to use tak as a weapon.”

“Of that, I am guilty,” he said with a proud smile.

“But we stopped you,” Loor shot back at him. “Rellin did not use the bomb.”

Saint Dane answered this with a laugh. I didn’t like that. When bad guys laugh it means they know something you don’t.

“But it is better this way,” he said with smug authority. “If that bomb had blown up it would have taken much longer for the Milago to regroup. Now, once they have won their little war they will still be strong enough to begin their march across Denduron. I suppose I should thank you, Pendragon.”

Oh, man, was it possible? By preventing that bomb from going off, did I make things worse? “And what if they don’t win the war?” I asked. “What if the Bedoowan win?”

Saint Dane brushed more dirt off the walls, revealing more tak. “No matter,” he said with a shrug. “There is an endless supply of tak. It may take time, but the Milago will come back. They will find new ways to use this lovely weapon. It is inevitable, Pendragon. This will soon become a territory at war. Denduron will fall. And when it does, it will be the beginning of the end of Halla.”

Halla. There was that word again. This was all about Halla.

On the battlefield above, the Milago miners had crept closer to the Bedoowan knights. They were now within range to slingshot the tak into the front line of shield carriers. The frightened Bedoowans huddled beneath their shields as the tak bombs smashed into them. With small explosions the tak burst on impact against the shields and threw a blast of fire into the ranks. Several of the Bedoowan knights died right there. Others got smart and realized it wasn’t a good thing to let the small rock bombs hit their shields. They began to dodge out of the way rather than shield themselves as the tak bombs rained down, setting off explosions that tore up the ground.

That’s when the next line of Bedoowan knights began sending their arrows. They were too far away to take direct aim, so they arched their arrows high into the air toward the Milago. The black little streaks shot across the sky and rained down on the Milago silently. Some found their mark, others stuck harmlessly into the ground. But there were enough arrows in the air to prevent the Milago miners from flinging their tak uncontested.

Watching this all from a safe distance from the battlefield were the rest of the Bedoowans and the Novans. They had spread out along the grassy bluffs to witness the spectacle as if it were a show put on for their amusement. Children played, musicians performed, and food was passed around as though at some kind of summer festival. Queen Kagan was positioned in the center of it all and stood on her throne to get the best view possible.

In the Milago village Uncle Press had found Alder, and the two of them tried again to warn the villagers to hide in the mines. The villagers knew Uncle Press, so at least they didn’t slam doors in his face. But time after time they got the same response. To a person, the villagers were prepared to do battle with the Bedoowan. It didn’t matter if they were women or children or the elderly or the sick. None of them feared death, nor did they fear the Bedoowan. Their only fear was having to continue to live the horrible lives they had been born into. No, these people were not about to run and hide. If the Bedoowan knights got past the miners, they would be ready, and they would fight.

Frustrated, Uncle Press and Alder ran quickly to the battlefield. Arrows rained down on the Milago while tak bombs scattered the front lines of the Bedoowan. Uncle Press and Alder were stymied. They wanted the Milago to defeat the Bedoowan, but not with tak. The true enemy here was tak. But if they somehow convinced the Milago to stop using it, the miners would be overrun by the Bedoowan. It was a no-win situation.

And speaking of no-win situations, Saint Dane had just said something that scared me to death. He said that the fall of Denduron was the beginning of the end for Halla. Uncle Press said Halla was everything that existed. Every place, every territory, every time that ever was. If Saint Dane succeeded in destroying Halla, did that mean that the entire universe would be destroyed? The thought was too huge to comprehend.

“Why do you want to destroy Halla?” I asked.

Saint Dane laughed. Great, more laughing. I hated that.

“You are young, Pendragon,” he said. “There is much you do not know. But I will say this: When Halla crumbles, I will be there to pick up the pieces.”

That sounded ominous. “I don’t believe you,” I said. “How can one man control the destiny of the entire universe?”