Legend of Fire and Ice Read online

  Legend of Fire and Ice

  The Comet Appears

  Book One

  Xaiver Morden

  Published by Xaiver Morden

  Copyright © 2015 Xaiver Morden

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Art by Jozsef Vajko

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All characters and events in this book fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Map

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Glossary

  About The Author

  Other Books By Xaiver Morden

  Connect With Xaiver Morden

  Prologue

  The war struck the continent of Algaron, which was at peace for nearly a century. The Nozgold Empire led by the demigod Vulgron and their loyal companions Birwulf, alliance of the orc and goblin clans, lost the last major conflict. The Dukedoms of the North, the barbarians of the East, Irwaldia, the dwarves of Tarmaria and the elves of Horeldien, crucially defeated the attacking armies. The devastated troops of the big empire retreated and strengthened their borders. The orcs and the goblins needed to change, in order to survive the storms of the upcoming ages.

  They decided to turn away from their former alliances and open toward the world. Although they kept their traditions and habits, many of them left their clans behind and spread all around the continent. The world has changed and it accepted the members of these two races, whom everyone despised in the past. Generations have grown up since, who only heard the stories of the old wars from their grandparents.

  However, folks of the world have been whispering, that the defeated empire is onto something and recruiting its forces, plans to burn down the continent once again soon. They have gained the alliance, of the demon-worshipping wild nomads of the Southern grasslands, who do not worship gods, but the demon lords. These were the last peaceful days in Algaron. Nobody knew that the events of the upcoming times could be compared to the horrors of the demon wars.

  The gates of the outer lands were opened by that time and the continent was flooded by demon herds. The ancient nations had to use all their forces together, to be able to close the gates and repel the terrible creatures, and it claimed a lot of lives. Battles have almost caused the extinction of the intelligent races, all over the continent.

  An important meeting takes place, in one of the small towns in the Northern Dukedom of Eregorn that will determine the future of the whole world. An ancient writing revealed from the haze of time, with its long forgotten secrets, but still many empires have tried to acquire it and solve its mystery.

  Chapter One

  The Southern mountains of Nozgold Empire served as a protective frontier, at the edge of the country. Moving through the high mountains, with a large army took a long time. Several smaller and larger fortresses were built there, to protect the borders. Regions were led by lords, who were all loyal and obedient towards the demigod Vulgron.

  Councillor Fairnor always found pleasure in politics. He could position himself very well and always knew which hand to pay to be able to move upwards in the hierarchy. He wanted to become a lord and was lurking to get the position, however, his ruler became aware of his plan and took the necessary steps, to get rid of the enemy.

  Tanervalda Vardo, the Faceless from the high-ranked member of the imperial assassin, was hiding at a tree in the forest. He was waiting silently for hours, becoming one with the shadows. His incredible vision and hearing inherited from his elf ancestors, allowed him to recognize approaching noises from a great distance. In the light of the late afternoon sun, a wagon with four men on horseback was approaching in the mountain-covered forest. The information, bought with heavy gold from the snitch, seemed to be accurate.

  The armed forces were knights in shining, full-plate armors. They were escorting their protégés in pairs, two in the front and two in the back.

  He was waiting until the wagon reached the branches, above the road where he was hiding. He was counting in mind, in order to time his attack perfectly.

  One – two – three.

  He leaned forward with his slightly curved blades and jumped off from the twisted, thick branch, right onto the knights riding in the back. He stabbed the completely astonished knights under the neck, where the breastplate and the helmet met. His weapons pierced the victims deep, taking their lives immediately. Their armors clattered as they fell from their horses. A second later, he was right on the top of the wagon and cut the throat of the man, sitting on the box.

  Turning back their horses, the two armed knights grabbed their long swords. With their shields in front of them, they began their attack. The Faceless skillfully avoided the weapons. Jumping up in the air, he reached the ground with a spin behind the horse riders. They turned to him again, to protect their lord. They joined forces to attack the assassin again. Although they were excellent fighters, Vardo saw them moving as old men. No wonder they missed their target, who moved as fast as the light. He attacked them as a cobra, next to their loins, piercing through the holes of the armor. Turning back their squealing horses, the knights prepared for another attack. The assassin was counting in mind again.

  Four- five- six- seven- eight.

  As they were approaching, they both fell from their horses. Clattering and moaning, they reached the ground, blood pouring from the artery next to the loin, painting the armors and the ground red.

  The door of the wagon opened and a bald man, with a tattooed forehead in a tunic, jumped out of it. While chanting some words, he pointed a finger at Vardo and a sharp flash of lightning, struck into the elf warrior from his hand. The power of the magic pushed him to the ground. His magic leather armor dulled the painful injuries. He was back on his feet within seconds, smoke emitting from the burn.

  “Not going to be enough for me, magician!” he said, a strange smile behind the mask.

  “I’ll send you to hell, you assassin elf!” the man with the tattooed forehead shouted.

  With slitted eyes, the magician prepared for another curse. Mumbling some words, he pointed at the enemy, but nothing happened. Vardo gracefully hopped towards him and cut the man’s throat with a precise move, but he did not miss the opportunity, to whisper something in his ears with wicked joy.

  “I prepared for you, wizard master. Even your most evil magic curses have no effect on me.”

  Gasping, the man grabbed his own throat as he fell to the ground with his last breath. The fat, balding old man, sitting in the wagon, was wearing an expensive garment made of silk. His face was reflecting dread and dismay. He started speaking with a scared voice.

  “Have mercy on me killer! Whatever they paid you, I’ll pay double, even triple if you keep me alive!”

  He stepped to the man, trembling in the wagon. Behind the black steel mask, his turquoise eyes burned with a strange flame.

  “The Faceless always get their work done and I don’t need your money!”

  He pointed his weapon, at th
e chin of the fat Fairnor and ripped up his skull, with a fast cut. His eyes popped out and the flame of life vanished from them. He ceremonially cleaned his weapons and headed toward the dark forest. He stopped under a tree and put his swords back into their cases, concentrating hard and initiating telepathic connection with the master of his order.

  “Master Karundum, my duty is done. I’m coming back to the fortress.”

  “Great job valor! However, there is a new task for you, with a far bigger magnitude. Together with your fellows, you have to accompany one of the magisters of the Black Tower, to a secret and very dangerous mission, past the borders. You have to obey him unconditionally. Hurry on to get here as soon as possible!”

  “As you wish, grand master, connection over,” he terminated the telepathic link connecting the two minds.

  At last there was a mission worthy of him. He started laughing loudly, as he jumped on the branches into the darkness of the forest.

  *****

  The merchant and his mysterious guest were negotiating behind the doors for an hour. They occupied one of the floors of the Pilgrim Inn. Corwen knew it was an important day. He had been serving as a guardian captain for Jahren Galdara, the dwarf merchant for almost a year. He had his men in each corner, closing down the whole floor. He had to be attentive. Many had attempted to rob his lord of his treasures.

  Venuri del Corwen was born nearly thirty years ago, in the Northern Dukedom of Eregorn, into a prestigious family. He showed talent in weaponry at an early age, so his parents sent him to the best military school of the country, the Three Armor Military Academy. Soon he was known as a master of swords. After five years of military service, he went to many masters to acquire new warrior skills. He became a champion of the twin-blade fight. Later he became a guard and gained the title of captain despite his young age, which he was very proud of.

  He was standing in front of the thick oak door, only turning his back to see if his men were doing their job. He heard steps approaching and the door opened creakingly. A wrinkled, balding man, dressed in black stepped in. They shook hands and he greeted Galdara, with a large purse in his hand. The old dwarf knew how to look good. He wore a golden-laced tunic as he was welcoming his guest, who brought valuable goods for him. His graying beard was braided right down to his belly, his small eyes flickering below his thick eyebrows. Although he was a tiny man, his appearance was always dignified.

  “Well captain, the deal is done. You can ease up security. Send half of the guards to sleep and go to bed as well! We are leaving the city of Terran tomorrow.”

  “As you wish, sir. See you in the morning,” the man replied.

  “Good night, Captain Corwen,” he answered as he closed the door.

  “You two will stay in service and will be exchanged in every six hours!” He looked at the armored guards with spears.

  They nodded grimly and noted that their service was not yet finished. He sent half of his men to sleep and he also went to bed. He took the twin blades from his back and got out of the segmented armour and the helmet. He felt relieved getting rid of the weight of the armor. He was a man with good strength, slightly above average height, his dark hair was cut short on the sides, his full beard well groomed. He was a handsome man, never having any trouble with women, but he only had short affairs with them. His lifestyle did not allow him to settle down. He was staring at the ceiling with his dark brown eyes. He was a real war veteran, despite his young age. He laid down comfortably, but could not fall asleep. His thoughts were twirling around the events of the day.

  What could this strange, bald man, possibly give to the dwarf? They had been in correspondence for month. The merchant had always been secretive, but not like this. They trusted each other. Galdara shared a lot with him. Things might be revealed soon, he thought. He soon fell in deep sleep, only disturbed by a knock on the door in the morning.

  “Wake up, captain! We are leaving soon, everybody is getting ready,” one of the guards said, knocking on the door.

  “Right, I’m coming!” he replied with a slightly husky voice.

  He rubbed sleep from his eyes and donned his armor and weapons. He rushed down the stairs of the inn, leading to the yard. His men and the servants were already busy with the horses. Everything was going according to plan, so he went back to the merchant’s room and knocked on his door.

  “My lord, everything is ready for departure.”

  “Thank you captain. I will finish my breakfast and we can leave,” the dwarf replied from the other side.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and the merchant stepped out with a leather purse across his shoulder. “Let’s go!” he turned to Corwen with a smile on his face.

  “Are you in a good mood today sir? Did you get what we came for?” the man asked as they were walking down the stairs.

  “Yes I got it. I’ve been waiting for this ancient map for a long time and now it is mine. It is the most valuable item in my collection. I can’t wait to get home to Tarmaria, to the land of the dwarves and discuss its history, with the experts.”

  “Fine sir, your carriage is ready.”

  “One more thing, Captain Corwen. I guess you noticed, that I had not shared some confidential information with you lately, I had to take these security measures. If anything happens to me during the trip, read this please!” he handed him a sealed letter, with his own initials on it.

  “Are you feeling more threatened than usual, sir?”

  “I’m not, but it is very important, for this map not to get in the wrong hands. It is just simple precaution on my part,” the merchant explained.

  “All right sir. As you wish,” the man answered, putting the letter in his pocket.

  Stepping out to the yard, the caravan was ready to leave. Two large wagons with canopy, full of luggage and equipment, supplies for the trip, sitting next to the comfortable carriage of the merchant, along with several servants and a dozen armed guards waiting.

  The dwarf got into the carriage and the captain climbed on his black horse and gave the command for departure. One of the servants quickly handed him a sack with delicious breakfast in it. The caravan began its journey, leaving the towered two-storey stone building behind, serving as a home for the whole company in the last two days. It pampered its guests with delicious meals and drinks.

  They moved along a large cobbled square, with a fish-shaped, human-sized statue in the middle. Water was pouring from its mouth into the little fountain around it. Children were playing around it, who stopped the carefree fun to stare at the leaving crowd. The steel chainmail armours and weapons were glowing in the light of the morning sun. The youngsters were waving happily to the guards, who greeted them back. The hoofs of the horses echoed loudly on the cobbled street as they were heading towards the Southern gate. Poultry let on the streets for a morning walk, by the young keepers rushed to escape from their steps. Everybody was busy in this early hour, workshops opened, and the market was filled with fresh goods, the streets filled with life.

  With its few thousand citizens, the city of Terran was not one of the most significant settlements of the Dukedom of Eregorn. Crossing the mountains from the South, wanderers and adventurers sometimes stopped by for a rest, but commercial routes fell far from the town. The wealthy occupied the center of the town, living in two or three-story houses. It was common to see smaller houses too, with cracked walls, including wooden cottages. A few minutes later, they reached the Southern gate of the city. The grand iron gate stood open, although it was always closed and guarded. Eight armored and armed warriors were standing there in burgundy uniforms, to check the incomers. They asked for the gate fee and let people in, if there was no hustle. They did not keep up the caravan and let them leave immediately.

  The almost thirty feet tall walls and watchtowers had protected the town for centuries, from smaller attacking armies. It was surrounded by agricultural land, where peasants had already started their work, harvesting this year’s crops. Summer was almost over an
d they had to prepare for colder and leaner times.

  The armed guards around the caravan were lead by Corwen; four in the front, four in the back, the others were riding next to the wagons. The tall walls of the town disappeared behind them, as the dusty road turned to South towards the high mountains. The fields turned into dense woods of oak and beech. They only met a few wanderers and hunters on the road. It was not a busy path.

  The captain’s thoughts revolved around something else. The merchant acquired some ancient map? It must be important if he spent so much time and energy to get it. Stay alert, better to be safe than sorry. I wish he had included me too.

  A few hours later, they arrived at the feet of the mountains; on the right of the road, it was slightly running up and it was slightly running down on the left. The weather was nice and sunny, perfect for a journey. The merchant called the guardian captain to himself.

  “Search for a place, where we can camp, have lunch and where I can stretch my legs a bit,” Galdara commanded.

  “If I remember correctly, sir, there is a glade less than an hour from here where we can stop for a while,” the man recommended.

  “All right Corwen.” he closed the curtains of his carriage.

  Suddenly, the guards on the front stopped the wagons, so he rode forward to see what was going on.

  “Sir, there is a fallen trunk on the road. We cannot go on until we move it.” they pointed at a thick beech trunk.

  “Two of you go see what can we do, and the others should look around. It might be a trap! The arches must be ready, the forest is dark and easy to hide in.” he said, addressing his men.

  Spurring his horse, he rode back to the carriage to report this master.

  “For the axe of Geidon, why did we stop?” the merchant asked, nervously picking his beard.

  “There is a fallen trunk on the road and we cannot go on, until it is moved.”

  The two armed-guards suddenly gave a shout, and then fell off their horses to the dusty road. Arrows stuck out from their backs, pointing to the sky.