Guardian of the Mountain Read online

  Guardian of the Mountain

  Jerek was rich. Filthy, stinking rich. No other thought raced through his head as the gold glittered in the light of his torch. It ran like a frozen river along the sides of the tunnel, thick with treasure, a cave carved of wealth.

  “Would you…look…can you see it?” asked Dan, his simple-minded friend, mouth open and eyes sparkling.

  “I can see it,” Jerek said, smacking Dan’s shoulder. He felt a wave of elation shaking loose, and he didn’t dare stop it. He jumped and hollered, his torch waving wildly.

  “I told you it was true,” he shouted, spinning and laughing. “I told you!”

  Dan only shook his head and grinned.

  *

  They camped at the forest’s edge, not far from the cave’s entrance. Before them loomed the steep slopes of Elfspire, a mountain whose original name Jerek didn’t know, nor could he pronounce if he did. It was the southernmost tip of the Elethan Mountains, which hooked into the Stonewood Forest before rising above it, white and barren. No vegetation grew on its sides, not even pale grass or scraggly weeds.

  Jerek set his pack down as Dan gathered the last of the firewood.

  “Hurry it up,” he said as he pulled out two black bricks. “It’s almost dark.”

  “I am,” Dan said, trotting over with his arms full of snapped branches and twigs. He was a big man, but also tall so the weight wasn’t too unseemly. With a cry of celebration, he dumped them into a pile. Jerek thought to scold him for the carelessness.

  “Thanks,” he said instead, in too good a mood to complain.

  “Can I light?” Dan asked, pointing at the bricks. “You got to last time.”

  Jerek shrugged.

  “You’re just taking advantage of my happiness,” he said as he handed the bricks over. “Don’t get used to it. The hard work starts tomorrow, and it won’t stop for days.”

  “I know,” Jerek said, the bricks dwarfed by his big hands. With incredible care and concentration, he leaned over the kindling and spread his arms wide. In a single quick motion, he slammed the bricks together. A great shower of sparks erupted about him, the embers glowing red and violet. Upon landing, they burned hot, even the thicker pieces of wood quickly catching fire. Dan lifted his arms above his head and whooped.

  “Hand them over,” Jerek said. “Those cost twice what you eat in a month.”

  “That’s a lot!” Dan said, rubbing his ample stomach.

  The sky was clear and the weather warm, so they didn’t bother with their tents. On opposite sides of the fire they lay down in their bedrolls and blankets. The stars shone bright, not a hint of clouds in the sky. Jerek knew he needed sleep. His body ached from the toll of carrying his equipment through the forest. It seemed the trees had fought their approach, scratching at him with their limbs and hurling up their roots to ruin even the faintest of paths. But they’d made it. The rumors, the ones everyone in Trewick had laughed at, were true. Tired, itchy, and sore, Jerek felt so very awake that he couldn’t close his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time.

  “Hey, Jerek?” asked Dan, evidently having the same trouble.

  “Yeah, Dan?”

  “You falling asleep over there?”

  He chuckled.

  “Sure thing, Dan.”

  “Oh.” He heard Dan roll over. “Just making sure.”

  Jerek lay there, counting the stars. After ten minutes, he heard the first rumble of Dan’s snoring, which would soon rival a bear’s growl. A soft wind blew, rustling the leaves of nearby trees. Time crawled on. Dan continued snoring.

  “Damn it all to the Abyss,” Jerek said an hour later. He flung off his blanket and stormed away from their dying fire. At the nearest tree he stopped, pulled down his trousers, and began to piss. Just as he was buttoning them back up, he heard a rustle of leaves. Jerek spun, his hand reaching for a nonexistent dagger. His eyes scanned the forest’s edge, cold and blue in the starlight. Nothing. No one.

  “Dan?” he asked, thinking maybe the simpleton had heard him wake.

  “He sleeps,” said a voice to his right. “As should you.”

  Jerek spun, his arm out wide in a punch that fell a foot short of the intruder’s nose. To his shock, it was an elf he nearly clobbered.

  “Fuck,” said Jerek as he leaned his back against the tree, his hand once more falling to his side in search of his absent dagger. “What are you doing here? King Baedan ran your kind out years ago.”

  The elf’s face sagged at those words. He wore a strange mesh of green and brown cloth, interwoven with strips of leather. His hair was long and gray, his eyes the color of wet earth. Most striking were the aged lines on his face. Jerek knew elves lived a long time, but he’d never seen one look so weathered, so old.

  “Your king is a fool, same as you,” the elf said. “You’ve come unwelcome to a place most sacred.”

  Jerek felt trapped. He saw no visible weapon, but the elf could easily command strange sorts of fey magic.

  “We’ve got as much right as you to be here,” Jerek said, trying to sound confident. “More, probably. Who are you to call me unwelcome?”

  “You were but a speck of dust when the gold first filled those caves,” said the elf. “And you are unworthy of my name. If you must, call me Evermoon. It is an ugly translation, but that is all you deserve. An ugly race of ugly men. The darkness will not abide your sacrilege. Take your friend and go. Do not harm the mountain, or the treasure within.”

  Jerek tensed, preparing for any sort of attack, but none came.

  “And if we don’t?” he asked. “You going to kill me?”

  Evermoon narrowed his eyes. A grim smile spread across his pale, wrinkled lips.

  “Not me,” he said, his body fading like stars before the light of the sun. “Leave, human. You’ve been warned.”

  And then he was gone. Jerek shook his head, and if it weren’t for the anger burning in his chest he might have thought the brief encounter a dream.

  “Run me off?” he asked, tightening his trousers. “You think you can do that? I don’t care about your sacred this, holy that. The gold is mine. You hear me? Mine!”

  He returned to bed, where the fire had dwindled to faded embers. Before wrapping himself in the blankets, he retrieved his battle-worn sword and placed it at his side. With his hand on the hilt, he finally managed to close his eyes and sleep.

  *

  Come the morning, Jerek woke refreshed and eager for digging. A few swift kicks got Dan out of bed as well, who lumbered around like a drunkard before hurrying behind a tree to do his business. Jerek reignited the fire with the bricks, then began cooking breakfast.

  “Had funny dreams last night,” he heard Dan shout from behind the tree.

  “That so?” asked Jerek, the corner of his lip twitching as he remembered the elf. That too seemed like a dream, now that the sun had risen and soft light filtered through the trees.

  “Yuh huh. Bunch of flowers were talking to me. That’s silly! They said to leave.”

  Dan came back around the tree, pulling at his pants.

  “Like we’d listen to talking flowers,” he said, grinning.

  “That’s a smart man,” Jerek said. “Now eat up. That gold ain’t going to mine itself.”

  They carried their equipment up the slopes of the mountains, following a smoothed pattern in the rock that looked deceptively like a worn path. There were several caves, but Jerek took them to the one they’d scouted the night before. The daylight glittered as it shone inside, illuminating the entrance like the gates to the Golden Eternity. Both carried pickaxes, and Dan a shovel as well.

  “Shame we have nothing to smelt the ore with,” Jerek said as they set their supplies down at the entran
ce. His sword he kept at his hip, feeling uncomfortable without it since the elf’s appearance. “Maybe once we get a bit of gold we can build a big pit nearby, lead a horse or two through the forest with bricks…”

  Dan stretched, grunting long and loud.

  “Maybe we can get people to help us,” he said. “That sounds good, Jerek.”

  “Just us,” Jerek said, smacking Dan across the arm with his palm. “Forever, just us. If others find this place, they’ll take it away. That’s why you can’t tell anyone. Understand? This is our secret place. It’ll be hard work, but the wealth will stay ours. We’ll live like kings. How’s that sound?”

  “If we’re kings, can I buy a birdie?” asked Dan as they entered the mine. “One of those pretty ones, like at the market? I like the red ones, but they’re not only red. They have some blue, and yellow on the wings…”

  They hacked into the mine, tearing lose the rock. It seemed everywhere they tested was a vein. Jerek could have closed his eyes and swung, and still he’d have struck gold. The morning passed, slow, steady, and covered with sweat, while Dan droned on about different birds. They piled the ore at the entrance, some larger chunks, some smaller. He’d go through it later, find the pieces with the least impurities. They’d have to lug everything back by hand, so there’d be no way to take everything. With what money they made, they could afford to buy horses or a donkey. It was that second trip he knew would make them truly rich.

  “Hey Dan?” he shouted as he popped his back and leaned his pick against the pile.

  He waited a moment. Dan arrived at the entrance, long streaks of dirt covering his sweaty arms and face.

  “You say my name, Jerek?” he asked.

  “Sure did. You need a drink?”

  Dan shrugged. He was panting heavily, his shoulders stooped.

  “I think I might like that,” he said. “I’m working hard, aren’t I?”

  “Sure are,” said Jerek. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be back with the waterskins.”

  “You know, I think I will sit down.”

  Dan let out an exaggerated grunt of appreciation as he sat. Jerek chuckled as he walked back to camp. Everything Dan did was greatly exaggerated. He’d rarely complain, instead rely on what he probably thought were subtle hints to reveal his wants. For Jerek, he was the perfect assistant. Few complaints, and no risk of betrayal. They’d soon have enough wealth to buy kingdoms, and all Dan could think about was getting a few silly birds to tweet and sing for him.

  Once at camp he grabbed one of their waterskins. He’d filled them at a stream they’d crossed about halfway through the forest, the water shockingly sweet and cool. At first he’d wondered about it, but now he figured the elf had blessed it or some such nonsense.

  “Probably worships the water and prays to the mountain,” Jerek chuckled to himself. “Damn elves. No sense at all.”

  He took a long drink, relishing the cold taste on his tongue and the chill that traveled down his chest and into his belly. He shook his head as if he’d just drank the strongest of liquor.

  As he did, he spotted movement from the corner of his eye.

  Pretending not to notice, he corked the waterskin and grabbed another for Dan. With both in his left hand, he slowly shifted his right to his side, mere inches from the hilt of his sword. He couldn’t see him, but Jerek knew someone hid in the line of bushes not far to his left. Whistling, he started toward the mountain.

  “Hey Dan!” he shouted. “Come get your damn drink!”

  He stopped directly before the line of brush, calling for Dan one more time. Sunlight streamed in scattered beams through the trees, and in its light he saw the glint of steel.

  Still calm, still acting unbothered, Jerek took two steps. When he went to take a third, he dropped the waterskins, pulled free his sword, and swung. Movement exploded throughout the brush, and he cut nothing but twigs and brambles.

  “Stop!” ordered a man, stepping to the side of the vegetation. His hair was long and disheveled, his clothes worn leather. He held a small bow in hand, more suited for hunting rabbits and squirrels than killing a man. The line was pulled taut, and his arm shook from the strain.

  “Easy there,” Jerek said, his sword at ready. He shifted as the man began to circle. “Let’s talk about this, eh?”

  “Drop your sword,” said the man. “Or I’ll feather you.”

  “You couldn’t kill a lame doe with that thing,” Jerek said. “You think you can take me down, one shot?”

  “No,” said a second as steel pressed against the back of his neck. “But I could.”

  Jerek rolled his eyes and swore.

  “All right,” he said, dropping his sword and raising his hands above his head. “Sword’s gone. Now put down your damn bow.”

  The first man slowly released the tension of the string, but he kept the arrow ready.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Jerek. So what’s a pair of bandits doing this far out in the middle of nowhere?”

  “We’re not bandits,” said the man behind him. “And we’re not here to kill you. You’d already be dead otherwise, so just calm yourself. Understand?”

  Jerek nodded.

  The sharp point left his neck, and then the man stepped around. Jerek saw the connection immediately. The two were brothers, with the same long red hair and green eyes. The one with the bow appeared the smaller, his features slightly emaciated. The older held a sword, handling it with far too much familiarity for Jerek to feel comfortable.

  “What’s going on here, then?” he asked. Since it appeared neither were ready to kill him, he lowered his hands.

  “We figured this would be easier without your simpleton friend,” the older said. “My name’s Mathis. That’s my brother, Russ.”

  “This is a mistake,” said Russ.

  “Enough. Jerek, we’ve been here a day, and camped about a mile southwest of here. We spotted your torches last night at the mountain. It doesn’t take much imagining to know why you’re here.”

  Jerek felt his heart sink. So the brothers had already seen the gold. There was no way they’d let him live, not now. No man could resist the allure of that much wealth. He thought of lunging for his sword, but two against one, he didn’t think the odds in his favor. Perhaps if Dan would finally show up wondering where his drink was…

  “So much for not being bandits,” he muttered. “So what you want from me? Going to make me leave empty-handed? It ain’t happening. You both got to know that.”

  “No,” said Mathis. “We’re offering to share the work.”

  Jerek blinked and tilted his head to one side, as if not certain he heard correctly.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Share it,” said Russ. “Not like you deserve it.”

  “We’re not murderers,” said Mathis, glaring at his brother. “And there’s many caves beyond the few you’ve seen, enough gold for ten lifetimes. I don’t want to kill you, and neither do I want to risk you coming back with a few friends to slit our throats.”

  “So we share?” said Jerek, hardly believing his luck. A part of him panged at the thought, but the rational part of him knew there was far more gold than he and Dan could ever mine by themselves. If they stayed at different tunnels, perhaps they could work out some sort of arrangement…

  “We share,” said Mathis. He outstretched his hand. “I’m taking a chance in this, Jerek. Please, don’t prove me wrong. Blood will spill otherwise.”

  Jerek winked as he grabbed Mathis’s hand and shook it.

  “I’m a greedy bastard,” he said. “But I’m not much of a killer. Frankly, if I can make a living by the sweat of my own brow, I’ll…”

  He stopped as Dan came barreling into their camp, a bewildered expression on his face.

  “Where’s my drink?” he asked.

  The two brothers glanced to one another.

  “Dan,” said Jerek, chuckling. “I’d like you to meet Russ and Mathis.”

  Dan looked
over and saw them, and a wide grin spread across his face.

  “Are you here to help us dig?” he asked.

  Russ rolled his eyes and retreated back into the forest. Mathis glanced once at his brother, then smiled to Dan.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think we are.”

  It seemed nothing could contain Dan’s excitement.

  “That’s swell!” he cried. “That’s just swell!”

  *

  After a long rest and a quick bite of rations, they returned to the mine. Russ was waiting for them, sitting by their pile of ore with a pickaxe lying across his lap. Jerek noted the long dagger that hung from his belt. At least the bow wasn’t in sight, he decided.

  “Where’s your brother?” Jerek asked as they approached.

  Russ nodded toward the tree line.

  “Mathis wants you to meet someone,” he said. “Figures it’d help keep a bastard like you from betraying your word.”

  “A third? Where is he?”

  “She,” Russ corrected, but when pressed, said no more.

  Jerek shrugged and gave up.

  “Go get started,” he told Dan. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  “You promise to come help me?” asked Dan. “I don’t want you leaving me in there by myself.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Promise?”

  Jerek rolled his eyes.

  “I promise.”

  Dan trudged into the mine, torch and pickaxe in hand. He tried striking up conversation with Russ, but the younger brother ignored him or made quick, dismissive comments.

  “You’re the quiet, silent one, aren’t you?” he finally asked.

  Russ stood and flung his pickaxe over his shoulder.

  “I have work to do,” he said. He lit his own torch and entered one of the smaller nearby tunnels. Jerek shrugged, amused by the man’s attitude. They were the ones that had nearly killed him, not the other way around. If he could afford to be polite and cheerful, surely Russ could as well.

  He watched the trees, waiting for Mathis. The delay annoyed him a little, but given how much ore they had already collected, it wouldn’t be more than a day or two before they had more than they could carry. Again he cursed his lack of a mount, wagon, or extra helpers.