MORTHAN MEET THE I

MORTHAN MEETS THE I

By

J.E. Deegan

Alanon looked up from his meal of mutton and corn as the door to his small hut slowly swung open. He smiled broadly and motioned to a chair at the table. “Morthan,” he said cheerily. “Come in. There’s food by the fire and ale in the jug.”

Alanon’s broad smile quickly waned as his friend stepped from the shadows of the night into the bronze light cast by the lanterns placed about the room. “Ah,” he said through a growing frown, “I sense that King Dillicit’s request to see you did not deal with a pleasant issue.”

Morthan’s glum countenance as he strode to the table and filled a waiting mug with ale confirmed Alanon’s suspicion. Morthan emptied the mug without a breath. “The news is indeed grim, Alanon.” Morthan refilled his mug and slumped into a chair at the table. “Sia, the king’s daughter, has been abducted from the castle.”

Alanon’s expression grew perplexed. “But that is not possible, Morthan. Every step she takes within and without the castle walls is accompanied by well-armed guards.”

“True, my friend,” Morthan replied solemnly. “Still, she is gone, whisked away sometime in the early hours of this very day.”

“By whom?” Alanon asked, rising to his feet. “What brash brigand would have the gall to take the king’s daughter? He must know he can’t possibly succeed! Dillicet and his entire army will pursue him to the ends of the earth!”

Morthan sighed and shook his head. “A note was found nailed to the chest of the guard to Sia’s chambers. It promised unspeakable torture and death to Sia should anyone attempt a rescue. The note was signed by the I.”

Alanon’s face paled with shock. “The I,” he whispered. “This must be a hoax, Morthan. The I isn’t real. He and his wicked powers are just myths… creations of imagination that live in the minds and on the tongues of the mountain peasants.”

“Myths, Alanon? Perhaps. But fear that those myths may be true prevents our king from searching the mountains for the I. Should he exist and should he have Sia, he will surely kill her if the king’s army comes upon him. Dillicet cannot take that risk.”

“Then what can be done?” asked Alanon gloomily. “Surely the king will not abandon his daughter to the wild tales of the mountain people… or to the I, should he in fact be human flesh and blood.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” said Morthan. “He has asked that I alone search the mountains for Sia. The I – should I find him – will be expecting an army, not one man.”

Alanon stepped back from the table and drew his sword. “Make that two men, Morthan, for I shall join you.”

Morthan nodded. “I suspected that you would, my friend. Now let us rest for the night. We leave at first light. It is a day and a half’s journey to the closest village of the mountain people. We will ask them for aid in our quest.”

***

Morthan and Alanon stood shivering behind an outcrop of rock and stared at the tidy assemblage of huts and lean-tos that comprised a village of the mountain people. The sky was low and thick with gray roiling clouds, and the bitter wind turned their breath into plumes of mist. The village sat at the base of a huge cliff that shielded it from the rear. A steep incline leading to the village protected its front and flanks.

“It is a tenuous truce that we of the valley share with these mountain peasants,” said Alanon. “It is no secret that the distance we keep between us is what maintains that truce. How do you know they will help us, Morthan?”

“I don’t know, Alanon. But there is no other choice. If their tales of the I are true, only they can direct us to his stronghold.”

“Hmm…their help and the help of the gods,” said Alanon uneasily. “I fear we will need both.”

Morthan placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and stared deeply into his eyes. “When we enter the village, give not the slightest hint of threat. We must show no fear, but those we encounter will be wary and will grab their weapons. We must not give them reason to use them.”

Alanon firmly nodded, but his eyes were full of doubt.

The two mounted their horses and began the steep climb up the slope toward the village. They rode tall in their saddles, their reins held high to keep their hands in full view.

They were noticed well before they reached the village. Women threw their hands to their faces and herded groups of children into the huts. The men, who were tending goats and sheep, stacking hay or fixing tools, grabbed their spears and axes and quickly formed a barrier across the entrance to the village. A huge, barrel-chested man with graying hair and beard stood at the line’s center, his thick gnarled hands wrapped around a lance tipped with a sharpened stone. His eyes were hard and defiantly narrowed, and his mouth, warped by a ragged scar that ran from his left cheek through his lips to his chin, was curled in a sneer. He pointed at Morthan. “That’s close enough. You best have good reason for approaching.”

Morthan raised his hand in greeting. “The merit of my reason will be for you to determine.”

The man’s eyes grew confused. “You are of the valley people. Who are you, and why risk your life by coming here?”

“I am Morthan, an emissary of my king, Dillicet. I come in peace to ask your help.”

The man nodded slowly; a slight grin captured a corner of his mouth. He took a step forward. “I am Dressik, head of this village. So, you are Morthan, eh? I know of you. Tales of your bravery in service to your king have circulated through these mountains.”

Morthan nodded then looked to Alanon. “This is my companion Alanon. We seek knowledge of the I, who has abducted our king’s daughter Sia.”

The men of the barricade stiffened and grumbled with surprise. They shuffled nervously; their eyes grew wide; flustered faces looked to one another.

Drissik thrust a fist into the air. “Silence!” he shouted. The men behind him immediately became still. “Why do you think we know of the I? Is it not true that your people believe the I to be fantasy created by us…an invention we crafted to maintain the distance between our worlds?”

“Some believe that, Drissik,” Morthan replied guardedly. “And I was among them until a note signed by the I was found on the corpse of one of Sia’s guards. He threatened torture and death to Sia should he be pursued. But with or without your help I intend to find him. If I have to scour every valley and peak of these mountains, I shall find him and rescue my king’s daughter.”

“A courageous but perhaps foolhardy undertaking,” said Drissik. “And I sense there is more to your quest than merely following your king’s command.” He cast a hard stare at Morthan then asked, “Why should I help you?”

Morthan stared stonily back and waited until Dressik shifted his stance. “After many years of war and suffering endured by both sides, your people and mine now live in peace. I – as I am sure do you, Dressik – want that peace to continue. The king sent only Alanon and me to search for Sia. But make no mistake, should we fail, Dillicet will come with his entire army into these mountains and rip them apart stone by stone until he finds Sia and the I.” Morthan paused and watched Dressik nod slowly. “Such is the love my king has for his daughter.”

Dressik turned to the men at his sides. “Go to your homes and families. I shall handle this matter.”

Drissik led the way to the largest of the huts. Inside, he motioned to a woman to leave then pointed toward a fire pit surrounded by stones. “Sit,” he said. “Warm yourselves while we talk.”

***

“Two days hard ride … just as Drissik told us,” said Alanon as he dismounted and climbed a small ridge to join Morthan behind a huge boulder. “We are fortunate that he-” Alanon’s words froze in the air. His eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open with awe.

“The stronghold of the I,” whispered Morthan.

Before them on a flat plain stood a huge rectangular stone fortress surrounded by a wide moat filled with a steaming, bubbling, purple liquid. The walls of the fortress were tall and thick and were topped with jagged parapets. Four soaring towers with brightly colored flags flapping from their turrets anchored each corner, and centered in the main courtyard was a massive keep – the heart of the fortress.

“Never have I seen the likes of this, Morthan,” whispered Alanon. “Not even Dillicet can boast of such a citadel. This place must be loaded with treasure.”

Morthan’s face turned grim. “There is but one treasure here that interests me, Alanon.”

Alanon pointed a shaking finger toward the fortress. “I don’t like the looks of that strange substance filling the moat, Morthan. What is it?”

“I do not know,” Morthan slowly replied. “But I venture to say we have not encountered the last of strange things on this journey.”

“Oh, to be safe at home in my warm bed,” said Alanon, forcing a grin. He peeked above the rocks and looked side to side. “There is no drawbridge, Morthan,” he said, his voice coated with alarm. “How will we cross the moat? Could access to the fortress be on the far side?”

“I think that unlikely, Alanon. The gatehouse, the entrance to the stronghold, is right there before us.”

“Then what shall we do?”

“We must find a way to safely cross the moat and enter the fortress. Dusk is nearly upon us. We will await the full cover of night then search the bank of the moat for a craft of some sort.”

Suddenly, a deep growling voice roared from the fortress. “Why wait for darkness? I can assist you across the moat now.”

Morthan and Alanon stiffened and pressed against the rocks. “The I,” said Alanon, his voice quivering. “But how could he know we are here?”

“It seems the tales of his evil powers are true, Alanon. Come… these rocks provide no shield for us.”

As they stepped into the open, the walls of the fortress began glowing with a soft shimmering light that spread across the moat and onto the rocky plain. Stunned by disbelief, the two warriors watched an immense rectangular stone rise from behind a great, elaborately carved wooden gate to hang suspended above it. Alanon gasped and jumped behind Morthan, who gazed incredulously upward. Moments later a purple fog seeped from the levitating stone. It slowly thickened into human form and floated like a feather to the top of the gate. The form extended its arms and swirling tendrils of purple light sped from its hands to surround Morthan and Alanon. In an instant they were pulled across the moat and deposited before the huge gate of the fortress.

“You! The I!” shouted Morthan, struggling to keep his balance.

“Yes, it is I,” said the figure atop the gate. “I have been told that you, Morthan, your kingdom’s greatest warrior, were searching for me. Well, you have found me.” The I laughed gruffly. “So, finally… Morthan meets the I!”

“I would guess that you were told of my mission by your spies among the mountain people,” shouted Morthan.

The I shrugged. “I do have allies among them... and among your people as well.”

“Why didn’t any of them attempt to stop me?” Morthan asked.

The I laughed harshly. “Let us just say that I derive a certain pleasure from greeting my enemies before I dispose of them.”

Morthan scoffed and thrust his sword upward. “With me that will prove more difficult than you think. Now, let us get to the point. I was sent by King Dillicet to rescue his daughter Sia and return her to him. And that is precisely what I shall do.”

The I smiled wickedly. “I know your intention, Morthan. And I know that you will fail and die a profoundly painful death.”

The I slowly raised his arms and held his palms upward. The great suspended stone behind him rose higher and moved directly over him.”

His eyes fixed on the stone, Morthan whispered to Alanon. “Hold your ground. The I feeds on the fear of his victims. Without fear, his evil magic is worthless.”

“Evil magic, Morthan?” the I shouted. “You mean magic of this sort?”

The I pointed at Morthan, and the huge stone plunged downward. But Morthan, his reflexes quickened by years of training, jumped aside.

Alanon was not so quick or well trained. The massive stone became his tombstone. Now there was only Morthan to meet the I.

Gripping his sword with both hands, Morthan screamed defiantly and rushed toward the great wooden gate. He stopped suddenly as the gate creaked slowly open then stared in disbelief and felt his heart turn to stone.

Standing in the widening maw of the gate was Sia, her arms opened wide, her mouth twisted into a loathsome sneer.

“Welcome, Morthan,” she said with a growl. “The I and I have been waiting for you.”

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