James Ward - Pools of Darkness

Gamaliel said nothing, but expected that before long, they would be heading north.

The past three days had been full of such arguments as the five new companions made preparations to leave Phlan. The group had argued over supplies, directions, plans, clothing, and mode of travel. The druids had to be convinced to buy horses rather than rely on their abilities to transform into animals. They all shouted, screamed, laughed, and swore at each other. Egos were bruised. Feelings were hurt. But here they were, packed, organized, and on the road.

They were only a few hours out of the tent city and heading for some predetermined place known only to Evaine. Talenthia was convinced they were on a wild goose chase. Ren was willing to believe the sorceress, but he was still skeptical.

Gamaliel was the only steadying force in an otherwise chaotic mix of personalities. Although he didn't speak often, when the discussions got too loud and too far from the topic at hand, the warrior's voice quickly brought everyone to their senses. Although he always sided with Evaine, the others trusted his instincts.

Now he trotted along on his horse, slightly ahead of Evaine. As always, he stayed close to the sorceress. No one understood their relationship. It was obvious to everyone that the barbarian adored the woman and would protect her with his life. He seemed to be constantly on edge around the rest of the group, as if inside his body a tight spring was ready to explode. His behavior made Talenthia hope that Evaine didn't harbor any romantic interest toward Ren.

The argument continued between Ren and Evaine.

"My spell should find the pool of darkness, but it functions more efficiently if it's cast away from the life energies of the city. We're all in this mission together. I'll cooperate fully with the group, but I can't take the time to explain everything I have to do."

Ren raised his hand to make a point, but Gamaliel was in motion before he had the chance. The barbarian leaped off his horse and drew his sword in one smooth move. He stood perfectly motionless, facing north, though all anyone could see were miles of grassland. Gamaliel lifted his head and sniffed at the air.

With the barbarian positioned between Evaine and what he thought was danger, Andoralson started casting several protective spells. Something was wrong, and it had to be important to make the big warrior so uneasy.

"What is it?" Ren asked, drawing his blade.

"Listen!" Gamaliel ordered.

The party fell silent. Under the dark thunderclouds, a slight breeze drifted in from the Moonsea, far to the south. The wind shifted. Distant sounds of chanting and clashing weapons were audible.

"Someone's singing and fighting at the same time?" Talenthia tried to make a joke.

"That's no song, that's a war chant." Ren spurred his horse toward the noise. "Men of Tyr sing such chants, but only when they're in battle and think they're going to die! Follow me!"

Talenthia, eager to follow the ranger's lead, spurred her horse after Ren's.

Evaine and Gamaliel didn't move.

"Well," Andoralson asked as he rode up to Evaine, "you heard what the fearless leader ordered. What's stopping you?"

"I never rush into battle, ever. If that sword-swinging lout wants to hurl himself into a trap, that's up to him, but it's not my style. And you?"

"Oh, I'm with Ren because I can tell he's lucky. My god has ordered me to aid him. But I always do things my way, too." Without another word, he spurred his mount far to the right of the others. As he did so a blue mist surrounded Andoralson and his horse.

Wondering how they had gotten into this, Evaine sighed in frustration. "Well, Gamaliel, there's no getting around it. If we're going to use Ren to find the pool, we have to tag along."

"You don't like the big ranger much, do you, mistress?"

She and Gamaliel galloped after the group, their horses nearly in step. "No, my feelings aren't a matter of liking," she told him. "I trusted him right away. It's just that he has so many rough edges. There is no logic to the man, just raw emotion. I don't understand his type. Let's hope he doesn't get us into something you and I can't get us out of."

Evaine and Gamaliel galloped through the woods. The sounds of battle grew louder as they approached a secluded clearing. Broken tom bstones littered the field, and the ruins of a small, ancient temple lay at the north of the graveyard. Five crumbling mausoleums stood like stone guardians around the weedy perimeter.

The raging battle was an awful sight. A tall warrior, armored from head to toe, stood in front of the largest mausoleum. The door to the stone structure had been ripped off its hinges. The knight stood surrounded by undead creatures that were erupting out of their graves.

Ren and Talenthia held their ground in the thick of the swarm, fighting off heavily armored skeletons. Andoralson waded into a nearby group of zombie warriors whose skin and clothing hung in tatters.

The huge knight in the middle of the fray chanted praises to his god, Tyr. Something about the knight suggested to Evaine that he was a paladin, a warrior eternally devoted to the cause of good, but there was something peculiar about the way he fought. His style of fighting made her uneasy, although she couldn't put her feeling into words.

The sorceress dismounted, turned her horse toward the woods, and slapped its flank. Gamaliel did exactly the same, and the horses trotted into the woods together. Evaine never cast spells from the back of an animal. A mere twitch could ruin a spell or hurtle its effects toward a comrade.

The sorceress's senses tingled. She quickly decided on a course of action that would turn the tide of battle without endangering her comrades.

"Gamaliel, creep up to the edge of the battle and keep these monsters at bay while I prepare a few spells."

"Mistress, I hope these friends are worth our effort-but I will do as you command."

Evaine smiled grimly, amused by his attitude. She told herself to chide him later for being so catty. For now, there was work to be done.

Still on his horse, Ren rode deeper into the battle. Summing up the situation, he decided to aid the outnumbered knight. He crashed Stolen through a throng of skeletons and took off several heads, calling out, "Need some help, warrior?"

The knight before him was covered in a finely wrought suit of plate mail. Glowing gauntlets and a magical helmet completed the suit. Ren was impressed by the craftsmanship of the armor, but there was no time for admiration. The knight sang his reply to Ren while in the middle of his death chant to Tyr.

"Freely offered aid from an able fighter,

Gladly accepted, makes this knight's work lighter."

During the old battles on the walls of Phlan, Ren had heard such chants from the warrior-clerics of Tyr. Ballads composed in battle were a last chance to prove devotion and praise their deity. Such songs were raised only when a worshiper of Tyr truly believed he was about to die. Ren didn't question why this knight was chanting. The odds looked grim.

Talenthia called down bolts of lighting. Each one destroyed two or three of the skeletons and zombies. But the vile creatures continued to rise out of their graves in ever-widening circles around the mausoleums.

"Retreat!" Andoralson screamed, charging into the battle. He threw a handful of dust into the grass around his horse. A bluish purple haze arose, blanketing the grasses ahead of him, moving in a rippling wave toward the undead warriors. The tinted grass twisted into ropy tentacles, reaching for the loathsome zombies and dragging them, still struggling, to the ground. The bodies of the walking dead were crushed to powder.

Near the edge of the battle, Gamaliel's voice also boomed "Retreat!" as his weapon chopped one skeleton after another in half.