Legends Lost: Galdin

Legends Lost: Galdin (Book 2, Chapter III)

Vasagius smiled.  “I can see that no matter what I do to you, you will never talk.  You do not fear torture or death.  But what if I threaten someone close to you?  Say, your sister?  The fair lady of Tesnayr.  She will not be so fair when I am through with her.”

Galdin lunged at Vasagius knocking him into the wall.  He punched the man repeatedly until he fell to the ground.  Instantly, Galdin whirled onto the second man jamming his fingers into the man’s throat just as Tami knocked him over the head with the chamber pot.

“Quick!”  Galdin ran out of the cell and stopped cold.  His mind willed his muscles to move, but they refused to obey as he stared into the eyes of a red eyed orc.  Perspiration dotted his brow as he struggled to turn away.

“You did not think I would come into your cell unprepared,” said Vasagius, rubbing his head.  “Enough.”

The red eyed orc turned away releasing Galdin.  Faint of breath, Galdin allowed himself to be dragged back into the cell with Tami.

Tami scooped up a chipped cup and held it under a crack in the ceiling where water dripped from.  When it filled, she handed it to Galdin.  “Here.”

“What was that thing?”

“The most evil of orcs,” replied Tami.  “They once numbered by the hundreds, but Tesnayr hunted them down during his reign and they were never seen again.  How they are here is a mystery.  And why they obey Vasagius is an even greater puzzle.”

“The sorcerer,” breathed Galdin.

“What?”

“When La’nar was attacked a sorcerer helped the barbarians,” said Galdin. 

“Then that explains it,” Tami said.

“But who is working for whom?”

 *                  *                  *

 The hot sun beat down upon the motley quintet as they trekked through the lower hills of the Perili Mountains.  Trog sniffed the ground swinging his head side to side as he sought out Galdin.

“Are we sure we’re going in the right direction?” asked Ryk.  “The tracks ended over two days ago.”

Narúl wiped the sweat from his face.  He hated this part of the mountain range.  The lower hills of the Perili Mountains were always humid this time of year.  “Quit complaining,” he said.  “That beast probably knows where we are better than we do.”

“Well, if that cat hadn’t lost Galdin’s trail, we wouldn’t need this thing,” muttered Ryk.

Tabs repaid Ryk’s comments by pricking the man’s ankle with his claws.  He hadn’t meant to lose the group that had taken Galdin.

“Ouch!”  Frustrated, Ryk walked up to Trog who panted happily.  “Look you stupid beast, we need to find Galdin and we need to find him now.  Now take us to him.”  He waved his arms.  “Go on.”

“That’s not how you talk to him,” said Artryl.  The boy moved beside Trog and petted the animal’s head.  “Do we have anything of Galdin’s?”

Narúl searched his things and found a canteen that had been on Galdin’s belt, tossing it to the boy. 

Artryl caught it and held it out to Trog who sniffed it.  “We need you to find the man to whom this belonged.”

Trog’s nostrils flared as he sniffed the canteen rapidly taking in every scent.  Immediately, he sped off leaving a trail of dust.

“He knows where Galdin is,” said Artryl, “Come on!”