Crusaders' Peril: Codner-Upwater Chronicles Book I

By Warren C. Ludwig

"Crusaders' Peril" is a fantasy adventure tale of magic and monsters. Tallis and Elwyn march off to battle with the Black Dragon Legion, but when the legion's commanding officers want to use the army to conduct a personal treasure hunt a grim fate awaits. Take a journey to a new world of lore and riches, and see if Tallis and Elwyn can survive the doomed Black Dragon Legion.

"Crusaders' Peril" will transport you to a new world of elves, dwarves, goblins, and humans. In a world of magic, the temptation of treasure can still capture the hearts of men— can it be overcome?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098367268

Warren C. Ludwig

Warren C. Ludwig is a native of Pennsylvania's Lehigh Valley, but currently resides in the Harrisburg area. "Rangers' Rescue" is the third installment of the Codner-Upwater Chronicles and is his third book to be published.

Book preview

Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

A LITTLE FRIENDLY PERSUASION

In a corner of the nicely furnished study sat the stocky figure of Daw Firebeard in a velvety cushioned chair. The dwarf eyed the room over while the thick, stumpy fingers of his right hand combed his long beard of orange-red whiskers. A good fifteen minutes had passed since he had told the tale of his latest journey to General Valvasor Highstone. The dwarf usually didn’t have much patience when dealing with humans (not many dwarves do), but the general was a long-time friend and the key to Daw’s plan. So, the dwarf had to make allowances.

The chamber door opened just then, and Daw shot his gaze upon it, expecting to see his friend. However, it was only the general’s servant, Provis, bringing refreshments. The tall, gaunt man entered the study carrying a wooden tray that held a large pewter stein, a small mincemeat pie, a fork and a napkin. On a small side table near the dwarf, Provis placed his burden dutifully. Daw’s belly grumbled at the sight of the food and drink.

Your ale and vitals, sir, announced Provis even after a bronze-skinned hand had already gotten a vise-like grip on the stein handle.

Thankee much, responded Daw in his gravelly voice. Tell me, good man, where be dee general?

Downstairs, sir. General Highstone gives his apologies for taking so long. He’ll return as soon as he finds the map. I’ve been ordered to bring that message along with the food to you.

Thankee agin, replied Daw, putting the stein to his lips. Me be fine fer now.

Provis bowed and then departed the room, quietly pulling the door shut behind him.

Meanwhile, the thirsty dwarf had taken a mouthful of the ale and slowly let it go down, sampling its quality. Nothing worth bragging about, he quickly concluded. Certainly not a dwarven brew he knew. Probably a local concoction he assumed. Whether dwarven ale or no, it was satisfying enough for now. Daw looked to the bright side and supposed things could have been worse. Valvasor could have had his lackey bring up a glass of elven wine! Ugh! Daw shuddered at the very thought of it.

How can dey drink it, he muttered aloud. Bilgewater! Dat’s elves fer ye!

Daw took another mouthful of the ale and wiped his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. Apparently, it was more convenient than using the napkin provided for him. He took a third pull from the stein and was about to examine the meat pie when a woman’s scream came reverberating through the open window! The surprise almost caused Daw to choke on his ale, but he got it down and then proceeded to get up. A few short steps away was the window, and Daw was soon at it to have a look.

The study was on the top floor of the general’s home. Down below, the street was bustling with activity. Merchant stands and wagons were lined along both sides of the street. Vendors, shoppers and passersby were numerous, and the clamor of it all would persist throughout most of the day. Hanging heavily in the air with the noise was the stench of animal, rubbish and throngs of unclean peasants.

Thief! Thief, came a woman’s cry. Stop that wretch!

Daw got a fix on the damsel in distress, his gray eyes twinkling from under his bushy red eyebrows. Then, his eyes moved down the street through the dense crowds until he spotted the culprit. A man wearing nothing better than tattered rags quickly pressed through the people carrying what appeared to be a silver candlestick, the prize, in his left hand. A couple of the merchant woman’s workers had come to her aid and begun the pursuit, but they would never be able to make up the ground. The thief appeared to be at the threshold of victory!

Then, an unfortunate turn of events (or a fortunate turn if you’re the merchant woman) befell the fleeing man. As he turned the corner at the end of the street, a mounted warrior of the city guard loomed into view. The thief saw too late that his path was blocked and crashed hard into the guard’s steed! The horse, of course, kept its ground, but the poor thief went bouncing off to crash into a nearby stand, cracking his head on a large cask. He fell into an unconscious heap right there on the spot as the candlestick, the prize he almost had won, came to rest in the street gutter.

Down the way, the observing Daw Firebeard chuckled heartedly at the whole event while the people below cheered the fate of the thieving rogue. Daw saw the guard’s reaction and laughed even harder. The man was in total bewilderment. A commoner had just slammed into his horse, knocked himself out, and all around the people were cheering him! It wasn’t until moments later when the merchant woman’s men explained what had transpired that the guardsman understood. Thus, he promptly put the slowly reviving thief under arrest!

Soon, the cheering ended, and everyone returned to their business. Daw eventually calmed down too. Still gazing out the window, the dwarf shook his head and snorted. Why do dee Big Folk choose to live in such places? How do dey tolerate a life in dee city? These were the questions the dwarf pondered for a moment. Then, his memory took him back to his own home as he looked out over the city horizon of Maartizon. It had been well over fifty years since he had visited his kinsmen in the Shattered Peaks. In his mind, Daw could see the long serpentine range of volcanoes that existed far in the northwest. At the bottom end of this mountain chain lived Daw’s people—a clan of dwarves called fire dwarves. While at the top end of the mountain chain, where one would encounter heavier volcanic activity, there lived (quite naturally) fire giants.

Then, the dwarf’s mind turned again to another place. A vast expanse of craggy, weather-beaten hills of blood-red stone took the place of the Shattered Peaks. To human standards, it was a virtual wasteland that the dwarf was now thinking about: miles and miles of barren hills, little vegetation and no buildings save one. A lone tower rose up toward the sky among the surrounding desolation. In fact, it was a small fortress or citadel constructed out of a gray stone that was clearly not native to the area. This single structure rose up from the hills like a gray beacon tower in a great red sea.

Behind the daydreaming dwarf, the door opened, and a white-bearded man stepped into the room. General Valvasor Highstone was a man in his fifties, well-experienced in the art of warfare and highly respected by all the social classes of the kingdom. His military career had been a very successful one, but he had paid the price. The years of leading armies over the lands and waging battles had worn him down. He looked much older than he was. Daw recognized it immediately that very day he had come calling. It showed plainly in Valvasor’s face, in his eyes. Much of the fire had gone out of them.

Forgive me, dear friend, for the delay. I couldn’t remember where I had put this old map and had to tear apart most of my bedroom to find it.

Daw didn’t answer but remained at the window, staring out upon the city, totally unaware of his friend’s presence. He was still at the mysterious gray tower where his memory had taken him. But now Daw was at the base of the citadel’s mighty walls where a body lay lifeless among the rocks. It was one of the big folk, a woman. She was dressed in flowing robes of silver and sky blue that rustled slightly in the wind. Long tresses of graying hair stained with her own blood flowed over her body and onto the ground. A careworn face that still held a hint of great beauty long since faded was caked with blood.

She must have been thrown from dee upper levels. It’s such a harsh world, muttered Daw. Me laydee, Daw will avenge ye.

By now, General Highstone had laid out a large piece of yellow parchment on his desk. Stern-faced, he looked over to the rigid form of Daw Firebeard and beckoned him to the desk, but got no response from the dwarf. A curious look came over the general’s face as he looked over to where his guest had sat. The stein of ale was more than half full, and the meat pie had not even been touched! It was very uncharacteristic for a hungry dwarf to leave a meal untouched for no good reason. What could be the problem?

Are you feeling poorly or something, dear dwarf? Valvasor spoke again. You haven’t touched your food. I realize the ale is not of equal fare to dwarven brew.

No reply.

It was all I had to offer. It was that or elven wine, Valvasor said with a grin that quickly disappeared when the dwarf failed to respond yet again.

Firebeard, called the general more sternly this time.

Still no answer.

Firebeard!

The windowpanes shook. So did Daw Firebeard. He spun around and found himself staring across the room into those dark eyes of the agitated general. He wondered how long his host had been standing there waiting for him to return to the present. It must have been longer than the man’s patience could take judging by his tone of voice.

Daw bowed deeply, his long beard sweeping the floor. Me sincerest apologies. Me know not where me head was.

A small smile returned to Valvasor’s lips. He always found it hard to get angry with the dwarf no matter what he did. It was even harder to stay angry at the dwarf for any length of time. He quickly returned to the gracious host and close friend he always was. Again, the general amicably invited Daw to join him at the desk. This time the dwarf responded accordingly, his heavy boots hitting the hardwood floor with a clomp, clomp.

Now, old friend, show me just where in the Bloody Jags is this Serenity Tower that you speak about, said Highstone.

Daw leaned in and began running a finger over the parchment. Tis a good map, indeed, remarked the dwarf as he scanned over it. Here be dee old Azzaminnon Road. So, me says about here be dee home of me laydee.

Highstone peered closer to the spot Daw’s finger indicated. Aghast, he exclaimed, That’s a lot deeper in the Jags than I at first believed! Your ‘lady’ must have been one powerful mage to have lived there! And you certainly must be a very foolhardy dwarf to venture so far into the Bloody Jags!

Foolhardy, eh? Me been called worse, remarked the dwarf. Me wanted to see me laydee agin anyhow. A few of me cuzzins went along, but still, we barely get out alive.

I should say, exclaimed Valvasor, still a bit stunned. Even a handful of dwarves may be a powerful force, but against the Jags’ infestation of hobgoblins, orcs and much, much fouler creatures, it’s rather a certain death. Now, you come here with this scheme that you and I should venture back into the Jags ourselves!

Daw turned away from the desk and took up a nearby chair, his broad frame barely able to squeeze into it. He now knew that the hardest part of this conversation with the general was to begin. Highstone was the key to the whole plan. If the man couldn’t be persuaded to accept this dangerous but profitable undertaking, then Daw’s hopes would be dashed. But the general was, for the most part, a level-headed man, and his lust for treasure was not in the realm with that of the dwarf folk. Daw knew as much and was ready to make a hard sell.

As if he, too, expected a long talk, Valvasor pulled a long, clay pipe out of a desk drawer. You realize, my good fellow, that it would take an army of men to accomplish this feat. No! No, let me correct that. It would take an army of men to give us any faint hope of accomplishing this feat.

An army is what we must have, Daw insisted.

General Highstone exhaled a cloud of pipe smoke and asked, Are you saying that I should go to King Bedellus and ask him to give me command of an army, huh? So, I can go treasure hunting in lands that are the closest thing you can get to being in the very Abyss itself? There’s a war going on, you know, up north in the kingdom of Upper Sunnashia….

Me hears about it, Daw cut him off, vigorously waving his hand. Troubles with dee giants of dee Cloudcap Mountains, right? We shouldn’t let dem big bumbling clods concern us.

Valvasor stepped over to the open window. You should finish your food there, my faithful friend. It will be dinner time before you know it.

Me thinks me shall, replied Daw, getting up from his seat and then adding under his breath, because dis will take some time, me be sure.

The general stared out over the city, puffing away on his pipe. No, those big bumbling clods of the Cloudcap Mountains weren’t a concern to him or Lower Sunnashia. The giants that lived in those mountains had finally grown too agitated. The spread of human prosperity had sparked a major conflict. Now, the giant kind and their minions were determined to clear out all human existence in the foothills and outlying plains. King Bedellus, the ruler of Lower Sunnashia, had already sent two full legions, the Red Dragon Legion and the Golden Dragon Legion, to aid Upper Sunnashia. At length, Valvasor turned away and asked, Just how large is Magdallen’s treasure hoard anyway?

Daw swallowed a mouthful of the meat pie and answered, Oooooh, me general, dar be enough gold and jewels in me laydee’s trove to make all me kinfolk in dee Shattered Peaks swoooon!

Valvasor erupted into a hearty laugh. The way the dwarf’s eyes widened like two full moons in his head as the word swoon escaped his lips was too much. He was certainly aware of the love affair between dwarves and treasure, but couldn’t help himself when he saw that face. Daw just snorted and continued with his ale and food. He didn’t find it at all amusing. Like any dwarf would be when talking treasure, he was quite serious.

Well, well….that must be an impressive hoard, remarked Valvasor once he had composed himself. See here. Maybe if I was a younger man, I would be more compelled, but I’m fifty-six years old.

Daw shot back, And me be two hunnert and nineteen! What of it? Ye be a soldier yer whole life. Ye cannot be more at home right here den ye were out dar! Forget about yer fifty-six years.

You’re right about that, wise, old Daw, the general said at length. But even so, King Bedellus—

King Bedellus mustn’t know dee treasure’s great value, interrupted Daw. If he did, ye know what would happen, do ye? We be killing ourselves to fill his coffers!

But the king will not grant such a favor, Valvasor said very sternly. You must accept those words. I wish there was something I could do for you, but even my high standing with His Majesty will not get you your army.

Daw didn’t speak this time. He finished off the little meal and then arose from his seat. The dwarf had, of course, figured that their chances of getting the king’s support were slim. Why he had come here was to persuade his old commander to at least ask, but Valvasor was persistent that it would do no good. Maybe he was right, for the war with the Cloudcap giants could soon tax the strength of Lower Sunnashia’s military. Crestfallen now after admitting it was so, Daw moved to the other end of the study, his feet dragging along.

At the desk, the red-bearded dwarf stopped to take another look at the map, then continued moving to the wall behind the desk. Hanging on it just within his reach was a sheathed longsword, a well-crafted weapon. The curious dwarf took it down for a closer examination. The scabbard was beautifully decorated with gems that the keen-eyed dwarf judged as flawless. Next, his rough hand clutched the polished handle and slid the blade out of its gem-studded sleeve. A well-wrought piece of metal, he thought, as he ran an eye from the gold-leafed hilt to the blade’s point.

Is dis dee blade ye got from King Bedellus? asked the dwarf.

Yes.

A good sword it be. Magical, too, eh? A dwarf knows, Daw said with a wink.

Correct, answered the general. A little reward for capturing King Gragnash and his camp. You certainly remember that. The sword is more yours than mine.

Daw remembered and could recall that memory with pride. Over thirty years ago, even before Valvasor had become a general, an alliance of several orc tribes emerged from the southern parts of the Bloody Jags. Their intentions included the pillaging of several Lower Sunnashian towns, including the city of Maartizon. Fortunately, word of the orcish host had reached the king in time to mobilize enough resistance to stymie the invasion. In the forest hills and ridges of the Underjag Forest, the two forces skirmished for weeks at a standstill. However, the orcs’ advantage in sheer numbers made the possibility of a quick victory for the kingdom unlikely.

Den came dat stroke of luck, muttered the dwarf, still remembering. The armies of Lower Sunnashia were on the verge of being pushed back out of the forest when a lone dwarven scout under the command of an obscure captain, Valvasor Highstone, stumbled upon the orc camp of King Gragnash and the other chieftains. In a deep cave in a ridge just behind enemy lines, the orc hierarchy remained well concealed. When the scout had reported his findings, the courageous young captain made a daring move by taking two companies through enemy-held grounds to capture the camp. He was successful, and thus, quickly ended the orcs’ desire to continue the war!

Ye earned it yerself, said Daw at length. Ye led the men in, and ye capture dee nasty orc king! Me only finds dem fer ye. And dat by pure chance.

You may be right, supposed Valvasor.

Me be right, snorted Daw, thinking how lucky he really had been to have spotted the important encampment. Pure luck, indeed! Not much different than that of the wretched thief who just some time ago fled with the candlestick only to collide with the watchman’s horse. Of course, in those two cases, Daw’s luck was good; the thief’s luck was bad.

Hmmm, was all the general would utter.

Daw returned the sword to its place on the wall and turned his interest to a marble statue. Where did ye get dis? Another gift?

No, I bought that, answered Valvasor, taking a seat by the open window.

Me see. And dis house? Did ye buy it? Daw asked slyly.

Valvasor nodded so, not knowing what point the dwarf was driving at next.

Dear, old friend! Why did ye pick dis part of dee city? Dee noise, dee smell, dee crime…ye deserve better! Much better! Why not a grand estate outside dee city?

I cannot afford that, said Valvasor, quite truthfully. I don’t get paid as well as you may think, even at my rank.

Great demons and wicked devils! Daw slapped his forehead. After what ye have done fer dis kingdom, dee king can do no more den give ye a pretty sword?

The general said nothing in response to the dwarf’s burst of indignation. Staring down at the floor in a meditative trance, he continued to smoke his pipe.

It be a beautiful gift; don’t get me wrong, continued Daw, but compared to what ye done, it falls awfully short of being a fair reward. How soon dey forget yer successes once ye quit succeeding! Humph! In dis dwarf’s opinion, dar wouldn’t be any more kingdom of Lower Sunnashia if it wasn’t fer ye! True?

No reply was forthcoming from the distant man.

True, continued Daw despite having the feeling that he was now talking to himself. Ye was born a poor lad in dee city. Ye easily could have turned to a life of villainy, but instead, ye became a soldier. Ye devoted yer whole life thereafter to being a soldier, and ye worked very hard at it, and ye used dee skills ye was born with to become general. Do ye not deserve more fer dat?

Still, no answer came from Valvasor’s lips, and Daw took this continued silence as a sign that his friend was carefully mulling over what he had just said.

It makes me heart ache knowing of all dat ye have done in dee service of yer king dat goes unrewarded! All dee enemies ye have helped vanquish, and all dee riches ye seized and brung back to Bedellus! Ye deserve a lot more, and Daw Firebeard of the Shattered Peaks will be dee first to say so! Even if no one else will because dey no longer care.

Daw had finished spouting out his two cents and took out a green handkerchief to wipe his brow. Then, he strolled about the room with a clomp, clomp of his heavy boots until he came to a towering bookshelf by the door. His friend still had said nothing for the longest time, and the dwarf quickly grew more intrigued by reading the book titles. When he came to one of special interest titled Fabled Beauty of the Dwarven Jeweler, and began to reach for it, there came from across the room, words that took the dwarf by surprise.

Perhaps, there is a way we can get an army for your cause, spoke the meditating general.

Daw had heard the words, but only responded with, Begging yer pardon?

Valvasor looked up at him with a smile, confident that the dwarf had heard him the first time but said, I said that there may be a way.

The dwarf’s eyes widened, and a broad, cheery smile spread across his face. Dat be dee best news me hears in a long time! So, ye have decided to talk to dee king?

I will arrange an audience with His Majesty as soon as possible, said Valvasor, returning to his desk and placing his pipe back in the drawer. It will be some time, though, so I hope there’s no rush.

None, squeaked the joyous dwarf. All dee time ye need!

Valvasor took up the map and began to refold it. It’s a deadly place, those Bloody Jags—the deadliest, perhaps, but you’re a wise and perceptive dwarf. What you have said before is very true. Yes, for a long time, I resented the kingdom’s lack of gratitude, and I’m filled with anger toward my king and country. But I don’t show it on the outside because I’m a soldier and a leader of warriors, and I learned that you can’t allow your emotions to interfere with your decision making on the battlefield and that habit has carried over to my private life. Well, I’m not on the battlefield anymore. I will do this one thing for myself and for my own personal gain and not for the king or his subjects or Lower Sunnashia.

Ye know dat if ye do go, ye can never return to Lower Sunnashia agin. Me just wanting ye to know dat, said Daw sternly.

Of course, I realize that, the man answered, a bit peeved, for that was only too obvious. Now, let’s put all of this aside until later. Dinner is drawing near, and I haven’t even gotten around to inviting you to stay for it.

Well, me was a planning on taking me meal down dee street at dee Inn of dee Serenading Sirens. Me already has a room dar and besides, said Daw, and he stressed this next point, dee innkeeper promised to have in a shipment of dwarven ale today. No meal is complete without it fer me!

Valvasor chuckled with delight at the dwarf. That’s no problem. I’ll just send Provis out for some of your precious ale so you can have it with your dinner here.

Me had a feeling ye would do dat, thought the dwarf. Play ye like a harp me can. The dwarf would almost accept the invitation, but only after inquiring about the evening’s menu at the Highstone residence.

Let’s see, said the host, rubbing his hands together. Besides your cherished ale of the dwarvenkind, we’ll have some roast duck and mutton with gravy, plus cheese, bread and honey…and to top it all off, a large bowl of your favorite owlbear soup!

The dwarf was drooling at every word. It was a much better meal than the Serenading Sirens Inn would offer, and he accepted the invitation most graciously. So, with that, the two long-time comrades, the tall white-bearded general and the shorter, red-bearded dwarf, exited the study to make their way downstairs. They had many more details about their plan to discuss besides an abundance of old memories to reminisce about. It was a long day, and it would become a long night, but the dwarf, Daw Firebeard, was content with the fact that there was still a chance to avenge his lady, the mysterious mage, Magdallen, late of the Bloody Jags…and, besides, there was her unclaimed treasure as well.

Two months later…

CHAPTER TWO

THE DRAGON TAKES WING

Tallis Codner had spent the whole morning in bed. He had been awake for the past two hours but had not yet gotten out of his cot. Lying there with his hands behind his head, he stared blankly up into the rafters of the barracks ceiling. He had spent the first hour of his awakening trying to find answers to some puzzling questions. Why had his company been sent to the fortress of Tusulon? And what would be their next order? Unable to come up with any answers he liked, he turned his thoughts to more important questions. What kind of trick could he play today? And who shall be his latest victim?

On the cot next to Tallis sat a taller, more muscular, fellow sharpening a sword. This was Elwyn Upwater—Tallis’ closest friend. He had marched to the fortress of Tusulon with Tallis and a company of swordsmen from Darkwood Keep. In fact, three companies of swordsmen and two companies of archers had recently arrived at Tusulon, all of which had come from posts like Darkwood Keep that had been erected along the southern edge of the Underjag Forest. It was a dangerous area to serve duty, and both Tallis and Elwyn were only too glad, though a little puzzled, that they were pulled from it.

After finishing with the sword, Elwyn pulled out his dagger. It could use a bit of work, too, he thought, since he had used it to shave and trim his flaxen hair. Then, he looked over to his friend. Tallis was still staring skyward with his hands tucked under that head of raven-black hair that hung down to his shoulders and matched his black mustache and goatee. This was the same pose he had been in for an hour except for one minor detail. Now, a sly grin was showing on the man’s face.

What is brewing in that head of yours now, Tallis? asked Elwyn as he began to sharpen the knife.

Tallis didn’t speak, but only rolled his eyes to the side where Elwyn sat.

I hope it’s not another dead rat trick like you did to poor Hewet, said Elwyn. He still hasn’t recovered from that one.

Tallis broke into a soft chuckle just thinking about his latest bit of mischief. Elwyn could only keep a stoic look for a few moments longer before a long grin spread across his face. It was indeed a sight to have seen yesterday. Poor Hewet Batkins had come strolling into the barracks after getting a letter from his sweetheart, but his walk in the clouds ended abruptly when he opened his locker and found a dead rat hanging there by its tail. It was too much for Hewet to handle (he really wasn’t soldier material to begin with), and the poor man almost had a heart attack. Everyone else who happened to be around at the time, including Tallis, had reacted to the prank with a little more humor.

I haven’t come up with anything yet, said Tallis, returning his stare to the ceiling. I hope I come up with something good very soon. The boredom here is getting to me. I mean, Darkwood wasn’t the best of places, but at least we were kept busy.

Yeah, like orc patrols, said Elwyn with a grin.

Well, no, besides orc patrols. Only men like Alaric enjoy those. This is our eighth day here, and we’ve done next to nothing.

Maybe they’re letting us get some rest before they send us up north, suggested Elwyn.

Oh, no! Don’t even say such things! We don’t know that for sure, Tallis moaned while shaking his head. He knew what Elwyn had meant by going up north. The kingdom of Upper Sunnashia was currently engaged in a war with the giants of the Cloudcap Mountains. Two full legions from Lower Sunnashia were already up there in the thick of it. Would more men be sent up there? Tallis thought he could bet a year’s pay that there would be. Would he be part of that next contingent to be sent north? Tallis didn’t even want to entertain that question!

Sorry, my dear Tallis, began Elwyn, still sharpening his dagger, "but it’s the most obvious reason I can see for being sent here. Two companies from Darkwood and three companies from other posts are now here. Rumor has it that there’s even more on the way. So,