The Parting of Shadows - The Chronicles of Curesoon - Book Three

By R. Jason Lynch

After traversing the vast emptiness of the Weepingwaste and finding no help in the sacred city of Fontamity, Livid and Curesoon follow a rumor that they might find some of the sacred fruit upon an island called the Isle of Miserytaken. As they journey to this island, they find themselves standing at the oaken gates of Eastharbor. As night falls, Barghests begin to howl behind them while the guards upon the walls of the city refuse to open the gates. Fear grips the heart of the gray-maiden as the great black fell-hounds close in on the two way-worn travelers.
They must survive, for if Curesoon does not return to Baleful, the old Troll of Miremurk will wreak havoc upon the bard’s childhood home of Eaglespeak.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387007196

Book preview

The Parting of Shadows - The Chronicles of Curesoon - Book Three

The PARTING of SHADOWS

The Chronicles of Curesoon

(A Parable of Truth Following)

By R. Jason Lynch

THE PARTING OF SHADOWS

The Chronicles of Curesoon - Book Three

Copyright © 2017 by Ronald Jason Lynch

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-387-00719-6

Courage is found in unlikely places.

– J. R. R. Tolkien

Prologue

Passing Time

Raphael took off his colorful hat and scratched his head.  Now, I was telling you that Livid and Curesoon were at the gates of Eastharbor, and the fell-hounds were not far behind them.

Yes.  The young woman agreed.  And the men at the gates wouldn’t let them in.

This is because their lives would be forfeit if they opened the gates after sundown.  The old man explained as he put his rainbow-colored hat back onto his head.

How would the evil queen ever find out that they had opened the gates?  She asked with a shrug.

Raphael held up a cautionary finger.  The Lady Dazzling had eyes in every one of her cities, and many were the pigeons that flew into the sacred city bearing messages to the false queen.

The young lady looked unsure.  So, how did Livid and Curesoon escape from their predicament?!?

With that prompting, the old storyteller began his tale anew.

Chapter One

The Narrow Way

Livid yelled angrily at the sentries upon the wall as panic gripped her mind.  We have here one of the queen’s carters!  She argued.  We rescued him from the midst of the Valley of Ash, and he is sore wounded needing the immediate care of a physician!

We cannot open!  Only then coming upon the battlements, the captain of the guards asserted the fact sternly.  The queen has decreed it upon pain of death.

He was an older man with a battle-worn face bearing not a few scars.  Unlike the other soldiers, he did not wear the tabard of the realm over his armor, though to do so was also a mandate from the Lady Dazzling.  As the gray-maiden glared at the captain, she found that he reminded her in many ways of Commander Callid.

Will you not open the gate for your queen’s carter?  Livid shouted with disbelief.  Will she not be displeased if you let her man perish just outside of your ability to protect him?

He knew the risk when he took the job!  One guard retorted while another added with an envious grumble, It’s for the jeopardy’s sake that her carters receive such rich rewards and high wages.

Another cruel howl split the night air, and seconds later, vicious growls could easily be heard leaving no doubt that their pursuers were very close.  Wicked, cackling laughter mixed itself within the dog-like sounds, thus all where sure that Blasters were astride the approaching beasts.

Will you leave us here to die in the cruel teeth of the Barghests?  Livid screamed with furious tone.

The captain of the guard shook his head.  No!  You are right, I shall not let the black-hounds slay you.  He then turned to his men.  Come, three of my archers, and stand ready, for we shall show mercy to the blind, the sick, and the wounded.

Three men came forward with their bows ready.

Nock arrows and take aim!  The captain shouted pointing at Livid, the bard, and the carter.

The archers pulled back their darts and waited for the command to let them fly.  Livid took in a deep breath and closed her eyes awaiting the strike.

As the guards held tight their bowstrings, Curesoon pulled forth the first sword his hand came upon to make ready to fight what came through the darkness to meet them.  Thus, blindly he gripped his plain sword holding it upwards and calling out loudly.  Make haste friends, and open in the name of Eversave!  In the same instance that he spoke the name of the Warrior-Bard, a light, seemingly from one of the torches that lined the wall, flashed upon the uplifted blade.

A few tense moments passed, and then, suddenly, the great gate groaned ajar just wide enough to let them and their cart pass through.

The captain forgot his order to shoot and turned to bellow with fury.  Get that gate shut!

The soldiers shouted in a disorderly and chaotic chorus as they swarmed toward the gate with the single purpose of slamming shut the doors again.

Several soldiers filed rapidly down the stairs that hugged the inner part of the city’s walls and rushed over to shut the gate again.  One man put both of his feet upon the wall of the gatehouse pushing upon the huge oaken doors with all his might.  Two others brought the large beam that was used to lock the gate closed.  Even more men went to assist in pushing the gap closed.

Normally, the large oaken doors would have been opened by a series of chains and winches, but the wheel that drove this mechanism had been locked by the captain, for so it was every night.  Thus, whoever it was that had opened the gate, they had done so by hand, and the time was too pressing to waste with unlocking the wheel, for the key was kept in a secret place within the captain’s quarters.

While the guards set about this frantic task, Dawdle bolted through the narrow opening scraping the sides of her cart as she burst past.  Livid, seeing the donkey rush forward, noticed for the first time that the gate had been opened for them.  Grabbing Curesoon by his free hand, she raced through the closing gap.

Once inside, the gray-maiden quickly spun around and lent her aid to the men who struggled to push the massive doors shut.  Peering through the crack as she labored, Livid saw a massive, black-colored hound charging toward them.  His huge mouth gaped widely displaying what seemed to her like a thousand jagged and pitch-stained teeth.  Upon the creature’s back, a Goblin rider shrieked wildly while pulling back the string of his bow and aiming a flaming arrow directly at them.

Just as they managed closed the gate and the bolt was dropped in place, the giant, evil-looking hound crashed against the doors causing them to buckle slightly.  As the beast collided with the gate, it thrust all who had been pushing it closed backwards throwing them upon the paved stones of the city.

Sitting in stunned silence, Livid, and the soldiers with her, gazed fearfully at the shuttering oaken doors.  The great gate continued to quake as the monstrous creature outside scratched madly to enter the fortress.

Then the captain’s voice rang out above the noise.  "Take aim, fools, and let your darts fly!

With the command waking all from their stunned idleness, the guards who yet manned the wall hastily nocked their arrows and sent forth a rain of death.  In the next second, a growling yelp was heard and the mad scratching upon the gate ended.

In the moment that followed, the Goblin-rider was heard to shriek, Brooga Em-Glemra!  His screeching yell was engulfed within the boom of an explosion that followed.  The city was shaken by the blast, and the large doors buckled snapping the beam that had firmly locked the gate.

Men ran forward with a new bolt, and when the doors were pushed shut again, the beam was replaced making the gate secure once more.

More beasts raced past, and their riders quickly traded arrows with the soldiers upon the walls.  Some darts found their marks, and Common-men and Goblins both fell wounded and a few even lay dead.

Many of the flaming darts struck buildings and caught their thatched roofs on fire.  The people of the city rushed forward with buckets of water from the harbor, and the fires were soon extinguished.

When the assault was finished, the captain of the guard came down from the wall and roared like an angry lion.  Stand in rank!  He shouted as he pointed at the cobblestones in front of him.  Make ranks here and now!

The soldiers raced to line up, with shoulder to shoulder, stiffening their bodies as they found their places.  They then stood for a long time as the enraged captain paced furiously, back and forth, in front of them.

After glaring at each man in turn, the captain questioned them with a wrathful roar.  Who the doom opened that gate?  Who disobeyed Queen Dazzling and thusly came near to killing every man, woman, and child within this city?

The guards said nothing, for they knew the penalty of death hung over whoever had pushed the massive doors open.  Moreover, none save him only who had done it knew his guilt, for in the tensions that came before the gate was opened, all were wholly fixed upon either Livid at the gate or that which hunted her.

Though he was not sure who it was that should bear the blame, the captain had his suspicions.  He called out the name of the man he suspected.  Craven, you gutless worm, step forward!

A small, young man stepped out of rank with a shudder.  He could not have been much older than fifteen.

You opened that doomed gate, didn’t you?  The bigger man yelled dreadfully with his mouth almost touching the other’s face.

Craven flinched at his superior’s roar, and then stammered out his answer.  Na… Na… No, sir.  In this, he was telling the truth, for he would have been afraid to disobey his harsh leader’s commands.

You’re right!  The captain nodded angrily.  You had to have help, for you are far too weak to manage the doors alone.  Who helped you!?!

Poor Craven began to protest his innocence once more, but the captain roared again.  Filch, stand alongside your conspirator!

A greasy Barbarian youth came and slouched next to Craven.  He was tall and slinky with a head shaved around the side.  From the top of his head there hung down into his eyes long black hair.  Beneath the shadows of his raven locks, the young man was openly displaying his disdain for his superior.

You devious and doomed devil!  The captain shouted forcefully.  You gave aid to this sniveling runt, didn’t you!?!

Filch shook his head with a rude sneer.  I don’t even like the boy!  Why would I help him?

Because you like trouble!  The older man retorted.

The insolent Filch was about to issue forth a clever response when suddenly he was interrupted by a deep voice.

It was I alone who opened the gate.  A large Barbarian stood forward from the line and declared fearlessly with a growl.  This man was bigger, stronger, older, and more battle-worn than even the captain of the guard.  A scar marked his left brow, and his strong face was at least a week unshaven.

You’re covering for these sucklings!  His superior retorted.  Step back in line, Qualm!

I will not go back to my place, Repine, for I speak true.  The man replied.

But why the doom would you open the gate?  The captain asked with a disbelief that slightly calmed his previously uncontrolled rage.  You’re no pup with idiotic designs like these two fools; moreover, you know the penalty is death.

I have my reasons.  Qualm replied bluntly with still unfettered boldness.  You should trust that they are more than adequate.

Captain Repine was utterly dumbstruck with a far stronger uncertainty than before.  After a moment more, he roared for every man to return to his post.  The soldiers bolted forward and climbed the steps without even once turning back.  Even Craven and Filch scrambled back to their posts leavening only Qualm, Livid, Curesoon, and Dawdle to stand in front of the captain of the guard.

Repine ignored the others.  Old friend, have we not been through many battles together?  Have we not bled alongside one another?

We have.  Qualm answered with a quick nod.

Then what on earth has come over you!  The captain yelled suddenly.

I have seen too much death.  The other responded undauntedly.  I will not let another helpless soul perish when I can aid them.

Repine glared at his friend for a long moment, and then, after shaking his head, he declared loudly: You are now, forthwith, discharged from the queen’s army.  Be gone as soon as the gate opens, for by right, I should have you filled with arrows!  The captain of the guard began to stroll off, but then stopped turning on his heels.  You know a war is brewing, and I have great need of warriors like yourself.  It is far too clear that these new recruits are nowhere close to ready for what is coming.  The man grumbled, and with that, he angrily strolled away toward his station upon the wall.  As he went, he could yet be heard by them.  You will be sorely missed!

When the captain had gone, Livid approached Qualm and gazed up at him.  She was amazed that he had helped them, for when she beheld any Barbarian, her mind went to Feral and Carking.  As she pondered this, she studied the man before her.

He was slightly taller than the others of his race, and his severe-looking face bore not a few scars.  His strong chin was covered in gray stubble, and the hair of his head was short though not wholly shaven.  He had large well worked hands, and his whole being seemed battered by war.  There were tattoos upon his muscular arms, so that his manner was in every way akin to those of his people.  Also, like his captain, he did not wear the tabard of the queen over his armor.  In truth, Livid could see no difference between other Barbarians and this tough, old man.

Thank you.  The gray-maiden finally managed to say in a lowered tone.

Qualm looked at the small, young woman sternly and then replied with a growl, I didn’t do it for you.

Why did you help us, then?  She retorted.

The Barbarian turned his gaze upon Curesoon, and as he spoke his deep voice softened slightly.  I don’t know much, but Repine is right about one thing: A war is coming.  Like him, I’ve smelled it on the breeze, and if ever you chance to be in as many battles as we, you’ll start to know such things as well.  At any rate, when your blind friend, there, said, ‘Open in the name of Eversave’ I felt a sore foreboding.  In that moment, I was sure that if we let you two perish this night, we would all die also.

When she had heard his answer, Livid felt somewhat dismayed, and so she said nothing more to the man.  She pensively went over to the cart and began to unpack their tent.  It was not long before they were inside making ready for sleep.

Qualm sat down nearby their camp with his back against the wall of the keep, and there he closed his grayish-blue eyes in slumber.

With the blast of the first trump, Livid sprang awake.  It seemed to her she had only moments ago fallen asleep.  Moaning to herself, she began to collect their things together making ready for another day of marching.

When she came out of the tent, she found Qualm standing close by.  What do you want?  She growled.

He gave no answer, and so she simply ignored him.

Once everything was in the cart, Livid hitched up Dawdle and gathered Curesoon into the small wagon.  Thus, they were soon standing in front of the gate.  The gray-maiden was past ready to escape from this city and the harbor that lay deeper within it.

After a few more minutes, the second trumpet sounded its call, and the great oaken doors groaned open before them.  Thus, she led them out of the city, and when they came to the crossroads, she turned back toward Eastharbor and studied the signpost.  The guiding marker pointed to the port-city in front of her, to Fontamity far behind, and to Trawlerskeep away south to her right.  Upon her left, there was no road, for only the grim peaks of the Duncrag loomed to the north.

What way do we take now?  Livid asked hoping their path would direct them away from the sea, but begrudgingly she knew that the only way they had not taken seemed to follow the coast.  Her nerves had been on edge ever since they had come so close to all that water.

Shoe said we should go down the coast from Eastharbor to Trawlerskeep.  Curesoon explained thoughtfully.

With a grumble, Livid turned left and began to follow that road.

The path to Trawlerskeep was unpaved, and in some places, difficult.  Moreover, when the land rose, the way often went along the edges of cliffs overlooking the endless sea.  Thus, the gray-maiden had constantly to fight a battle with her personal terror so as to keep her legs walking, and for the cause, conversation was again scarce for the poor blind bard.

As Livid struggled along this hard path, she turned, from time to time, to see if any followed them, for she had spied a large man in a black, hooded cloak taking the same way after they had.  So it happened that when they were upon any high place in the road, she would glance back over her shoulder and behold the same stranger dressed in a long, dark-colored clothing.  This man caused her more uncertainty and that was added to her even greater anxiety.  More than once she wished that she were away in the foothills of the Western-tor and yet in the service of her former master, Jocund.

The day was late when finally, they came over a rise in the land and observed the city of Trawlerskeep perched, even as Eastharbor had been, upon the edge of the sea.  However, even from this view, it was clear to Livid that this small city had little of the lavishness which Eastharbor offered and was simply rustic when weighed against the splendor of Fontamity.

The gray-maiden was unsure whether they were going to make it to the city before sundown, for she had felt as though she were only crawling along, and if it had not been for the man who seemed to be pursuing them, she may not have traveled even as quickly as she had.

Livid glanced nervously behind her once more, and when she saw how far behind them the cloaked stranger had fallen, she breathed a sigh of relief, for she was sure, he would not make it to the fortress in time.

Hurrying down the rocky and dusty path, the shepherdess brought them before the gate of Trawlerskeep, but to her dismay, the oaken doors of the keep were already shut before them.  This was bewildering to her, for though the sun was very low, she had not heard the call of the trumpet warning that the hour was late.

Who goes there?  A man upon the wall called down to her.

My name is Livid, and we seek refuge within your walls for the night.  Livid answered as kindly as her fear would allow her.

Very well, stranger, you may enter, but be no trouble to us.  The man responded firmly.

Thus, to her amazement, the large, plain-looking doors of the city groaned open, and the friends entered happily.  Once inside, Livid began to set up their tent in the inner courtyard.

No, no!  A man yelled as he approached them.  No one is permitted to sleep in this area.  He explained with little emotion and then pointed off to the right.  Go to the inn and lodge there.

Hearing these words, the bard grinned broadly, for he had hoped for a bed to lay his weary soul upon.  Livid, on the other hand, looked at the man oddly.  She had become so accustomed to the rudeness of the previous cities that the slightly welcoming manner of this fortress felt almost foreign to her now.

Going over to the inn, she knocked upon the simple-looking door.  After a moment, the entrance was opened, and a kind looking, middle-aged woman invited them inside while a young man took hold of Dawdle and led her to the stables in the back of the inn.

We don’t get many visitors here in Trawlerskeep.  The woman commented as she directed them within with a wave of her hand.

The gray-maiden sent Curesoon in first, and the innkeeper took the bard’s hand to lead him to a table.  Next Livid took a step to enter, when suddenly she heard the porter at the gate call out, even as he had to them.

Who goes there?

Words she could not understand followed, and then the man upon the wall replied with the same phrase: Very well, stranger, you may enter, but be no trouble to us.

Hearing this, the gray-maiden’s mind with a flash remembered the darkly dressed man who had been following them.  Quickly going into the inn, she slammed the door close and hastily asked for a room.

Will you two have nothing to eat first?  The woman asked with a perplexed expression.

No, no, that’s fine.  She stammered.  We are very weary from the long road.

But, I actually would… Curesoon began to argue, however Livid put her gray hand upon his mouth.

Very well.  The woman replied with an odd look.  If you and your husband would follow me, I’ll show you to your room.

The gray-maiden offered no dispute, but instead, she pulled the blind bard along behind her, and thus they were shown to their room.  When the innkeeper had gone, Livid quickly closed and bolted the door.

Whatever is the matter with you?  Curesoon asked with a slightly aggravated tone coloring his question.

A man has followed us the long way from Eastharbor.  She answered as she put her ear to the door.

Did he see us come into the inn?  The bard inquired with a serious and anxious sound in his voice.

I do not think so.  She responded nervously.

So, he did not see us enter this room?  He questioned yet once more.

No.  Her answer to this was made with a surer tone.

A grin grew upon Curesoon’s face, and he took off his colorful hat and flung himself upon the bed he had already found with his hands.  Then, my dear Livid, let your worry rest, for above all this, you have securely bolted the door.

The shepherdess looked crossly at the bard and then unrolled her sleeping-sack upon the stone floor of the bedchamber.

You are not funny.  She commented with a slight growl.

Minutes later, they, both tired from traveling, fell quickly to sleep.

The tall, cloaked stranger entered the small tavern at the bidding of the innkeeper.

Have a seat here, friend, and I shall bring you something to eat.  She suggested with a gentle smile.

Thank you.  The man answered with a deep and stern voice never pulling back the hood of his black cloak.  May I ask, he added after a second of silence.  Did a blind bard and a gray girl enter your inn this night?

As a matter of fact, two fitting just that description have come into my tavern.  The middle-aged woman replied with a nod.

When she had brought the man a platter of food, he ate without any further words.  After he was finished, she directed him to a room just across the passage from the bard and Livid, and the darkly shrouded man disappeared inside.

The dawn came without any sound of a trumpet, and for this cause neither the gray-maiden nor Curesoon stirred from their peaceful slumber.  Thus, the morning was well spent before they emerged from the bedchamber they had shared.

Coming into the commons of the tavern, they were hurriedly ushered to a table, and a hardy breakfast was laid before them.  Eggs and toast were enjoyed by the two, but both declined the thick cuts of bacon.

Why not eat the meat?  A deep voice echoed across the small dinning-hall.

Startled, Livid turned to see Qualm sitting with a thick pipe clamped between his white teeth.  A cloud of smoke hung heavily around the old Barbarian’s gray head.

Did you follow us from Eastharbor?  She growled at the large man.

He nodded slowly without a word.

Why?  Curesoon chimed in with a note of interest in his voice.

Qualm sat pondering the question.  After a moment more, he replied.  I’m not really sure.  I suppose I wanted to see what errand you two were about.

It’s none of you’re… Livid began to retort, but the bard laid his hand gently upon her arm with an expression of disapproval, and so she fell silent.

When the gray-maiden had left off speaking, Curesoon turned blindly to where he imagined the Barbarian was seated.  Come and see what task we are undertaking.  He proposed with a sly grin, and then calling to the innkeeper, the bard inquired of her, What conveyance is available to those who would wish to go across and explore the Isle of Miserytaken?

If you will take the narrow path that goes off toward the east, you will find, about three miles down the coast, a ferryboat which should be able to take you over.  The middle-aged woman then gave a shrug.  However, there are few who ever go to that solitary island, and for this cause I’m less than sure the ferry is still in operation. 

Livid’s heart began to race when she heard Curesoon’s question and the innkeeper’s reply.  Surely he did not just say what I thought I heard.  Surely we will not traverse any amount water!  Her mind screamed within her head.

When they were finished with their breakfast, they gathered up their things, fetched Dawdle from the stables, hitched her to their cart, and made for the ferry.  In all this, Qualm was a help, and as they went out of the gate and began to make their way eastward along the coast, he walked with them.

The Barbarian was a man of few words and Livid was troubled by the prospect of crossing the sea, thus Curesoon again enjoyed little conversation as they went.

Once, the bard made an attempt to create a discussion when he inquired of the larger man with a cheerful grin, What land do you come from?

Qualm, however, answered without disclosing any more than necessary.  I was born in Ironkeep. 

That country is just south of here.  Curesoon added with a note of interest.

Yes, it is.  The other affirmed with the same lack of enthusiasm, and thus the dialogue ended abruptly.

The narrow, three-mile road was an arduous trek climbing and descending the steeply rolling hills of the countryside.  Livid, Dawdle, and Qualm found themselves winded from the march, and Curesoon was greatly jostled about within the cart as it bumped along the trail.

However, though the way was rough, it was also very lovely.  All manner of colorful wildflowers, with seemingly endless hues, grew everywhere along the course, and their fragrance was carried gladly upon the gentle breeze which swept the rolling hills.  There were birds singing around every turn in the path, and squirrels chattered cheerfully in the trees.  In the meadows that opened before them from time to time, Livid and Qualm caught sight of deer grazing, and not a few hares crossed their trail as they approached.

Here and there, upon their left, the forest would part allowing the travelers to view glimpses of the sea beyond, thus they observed white, sandy beaches and seagulls crying joyfully.  However, with each glance at the coast below them, Livid shuddered.  She was feeling rather sick at her stomach, and had no desire for food when they paused for a small lunch.  That old empty fear seemed stronger than ever it had.

After traversing the greater portion of the path, the way turned northward and began to descend toward the sea.  Down the steeply sloping hill, a dock made of wood could be seen stretching out over the water.

When Livid had gazed upon the scene, she trembled uncontrollably.  Then, as they descended the hill drawing ever closer to the sea, she swooned and would have fallen if it were not for their new, Barbarian friend.

Qualm gathered the fainting gray-maiden into his strong arms and placed her tenderly into the cart.  You should not have passed on lunch.  He commented with a stern expression and a mild growl.

Curesoon, having climbed out of the small wagon to give her room, felt his way to the donkey’s head.  Holding on to her short mane, he walked slowly stumbling from time to time upon the rugged path.

After several minutes, they came at last to the small dock.  As they began to venture out upon the small pier, Dawdle’s hooves resonated loudly