Just Before Dawn Page 10

  Ibu pressed himself against the rock face, his strangely colored armor breaking the lines of his body as the shadows covered his form. The speakers appeared along the path. There was a pair of them, one a human and one an orc. They both wore dark robes with swords on their hips, though neither looked ready to use them. They spoke vigorously to each other, the human looking over his shoulder up the path with an angered expression. Ibu could see the raw hatred in his eyes and knew that these two were being excluded from something very important up above. They had probably been sent down as guards.

  Ibu closed his eyes and asked the Light for its blessing. And then he lunged from the shadows. He stuck in a wide arc, side to side. The hammer struck the farther of the two in the chest, exploding the air in his lungs outward in a soundless gasp. Ibu moved forward into a roll, pulling the hammer in as he went and using his motion to swing it down and around, taking the legs out from under the second. The orc lay on the ground trying to gather breath while the human seemed too surprised to act. In another second it was over, and Ibu took no time for prayer after the deed. Either he would pray for all those lost after this was over, or he would no more be able to pray for anyone. Only time would tell.

  Ibu hurried along the path, taking less care to hide his presence. A malignant pressure fell on his shoulders as he climbed the path, and Ibu began to feel fear growing in the pit of his stomach. He pushed himself faster. The path turned around a series of sharp gashes in the mountain side and then turned steep around the next bend. Ibu stopped short of climbing the last portion as the chanting grew ever louder. He crouched low and crept up the path as slow as he could. He peeked over the small rise in the ground and what he saw made his heart turn cold.

  About fifty cultists stood arrayed in a massive circle around an altar of stone. A small girl was lashed to the altar where she lay, unmoving. Next to her stood another cultist with his hood thrown back, revealing the grizzled face of a human man. He stood with his hands upraised and his face turned towards the sky where the obscene shadow of a winged demon stood as insubstantial as a mist. A glowing pattern was etched into the stone of the mountain and the chanting of the cultists filled the air with their growing evil. The cultist near the altar reached down to his belt and pulled a dark bladed dagger forth and held it above him, shouting out in the dark tongue towards the demon above. Ibu saw the fey light of the pattern on the ground glint off of the dark blade dangerously, and the cultists began to sway as they chanted. Lightning flashed once. Twice. And still the dark power seemed to grow, dwarfing whatever strength Ibu dared to possess. He felt the will to fight flowing from his body, his conviction leaving him in a rush.

  Ibu looked up at the growing form of the demon and felt his own power as insignificant to this...godlike being that rose up in the sky before him. He fought the urge to shout out to the demon and bow before it, but felt his resolve weakening.

  Then, over the thrum of the chanting, a small voice called for her mommy.

  Ibu stood against his will as something new filled the void where his weakened convictions had been. He heard her cry out once more, her voice so gentle over the pain that filled the air around the mountain. He turned his eyes upward to where the moon had risen to shine between the gaps in the cloud cover. Anger flooded his being as he saw everything as it was. He saw

  … the look on their faces as they drove him from his island, trying to cut him down as he fled…

  the contorted faces of the cultist as the demon drained their lives to gain his entrance to Azeroth,

  … how they laughed as they called him “baby eater” and threw his food to the ground. They threw sand in his eyes…

  the madness in the eyes of the lead cultist as he shouted to the demon,

  … the fires that took everything from him before leading him down a road where the only person he could dare to call father fell in the darkness…

  the girl pull on her bindings as her head rose from the stone of the alter to look at her surroundings. The terror on her face did what no amount of pride, courage or conviction could do. Without thinking Ibu reached deep within himself to the power of which Arguth had always tried to explain to him. Strength filled his limbs and his hammer hummed with a bright corona of power. Without another second of hesitation Patronus-Ibu, student and heir of Arguth Axewind, walked alone into the midst of demons.

  Ibu crossed the outermost threshold of the pattern on the ground and felt the air around him sizzle. Steam rose around his body, but he felt no discomfort. The demon in the sky screamed in rage as it turned its attention to the one who dared interrupt its welcome into Azeroth. The chanting stopped as all eyes turned to Ibu. The cultist at the altar screamed in pained fury as the tie to his demon lord weakened. The man pointed at Ibu and shouted something in his dark language. All around Ibu weapons were drawn. Ibu felt the malicious gazes from all those gathered, but his heart felt content for the first time since he was a boy. The strength of the Light filled his whole body, and he felt no fear as the cultists nearest to him advanced warily.

  Ibu smiled, aware of something the cultists had no reckoning of. Ibu held his hammer aloft with one hand and shouted with all his might. He then dropped to the floor as a blur of talons and feathers leapt over him, landing on two cultists that had dared to approach. Sandtall landed on them with a screech, effectively stunning the other cultists with surprise.

  Ibu leapt to his feet and dashed to the right with his hammer, taking on the first of his opponents with surprise on his side. Three fell before any could mount a defense to his onslaught. Ibu spun, avoiding a mattock aimed at his side. His hammer reached out and the offending cultist fell to the floor. A hammer smashed against Ibu’s back, but Ibu felt nothing. He spun around and felled the enemy in a single blow. Ibu heard Sandtall screech and turned to see the strider running across the summit, three cultists chasing the bird, one hapless goblin hanging from the striders beak.

  Ibu turned back to his fight as more cultists rushed him from all sides. Ibu tucked his shoulder down and ran forward, meeting his enemies in a clash of armor and weapons. He felt blows glance off of his back and sides, a blade off the coif at his neck. Something nicked his cheek while a hammer jarred his leg. Still Ibu fought, his hammer crushing his foes with every blow.

  A torrent of black energy slammed into Ibu, throwing him backwards through the air. The cultists that had been around him fell to the floor lifeless as the magic simply washed over Ibu like water. Ibu saw the lead cultist wave his hands and another stream of the magic lashed out at him. It struck him like a hammer with blunt force, but the power of the strike simply cascaded off him harmlessly. Ibu got to his foot and stood tall, hammer in one hand to his side.

  The cultist shouted something in orcish and then in a troll dialect when Ibu didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed and he tried once again, this time in common. “Who do you think you are to meddle in the affairs of the Flaming Eye?”

  The remaining cultists made their way to their master, some of them nursing wounds from the strider while others lay unmoving on the ground. Ibu felt a familiar presence at his back and Sandtall clucked once and then remained silent.

  “Give me the girl,” Ibu said darkly, “and no more have to die today.”

  The cultist laughed. “Give you the girl? She is integral to the master’s coming! You cannot just come and ask for such a boon and be expected to be left alive! You must be mad!”

  It was Ibu’s turn to laugh. “No, the madness is yours. Only a mad man would lead so many to destruction for the sake of a viper’s lie. You have all been deceived and the death that is surely coming for you is your only reward. Now,” Ibu said as he wielded his hammer in both hands, “give me the girl.”

  The cultist’s eyes narrowed and he spat an evil sounding word. Black flames spun from his fingertips towards Ibu so quickly that the troll knew he could erect no defense. Sandtall squawked in fear. The fire struck, but not Ibu. A wall of golden light flared up around the troll as the fire sl
ammed against it. Black fire rose up into the sky and shot forth from either side, but beyond the wall it could not extend. Ibu felt a familiar presence in the light and knew that Arguth had managed to help him one final time, even from beyond the void of death. Ibu extended a hand towards the wall and added his own strength to the barrier. And then he began to push.

  The lead cultist pressed against Ibu’s counter, shouting for his followers to lend him their might. Some came forward, bolstering their leader’s effort with their own strength. Others fled. Thunder boomed every few seconds from the meeting of the two powers and ripples of heat and sound thundered outward from the summit.

  Ibu closed his eyes and stepped forward, hand still outstretched. The lead cultist screamed with impotent rage as the barrier turned parabolic with the altar at its center. Ibu closed his hand. The barrier closed on the remaining cultists. The form of the demon above the summit faded with a screech as the cultists died.

  Ibu cried out as the barrier dissolved, feeling with its collapse the death of each individual that perished within. Ibu threw his arms wide as pain coursed through his body. Ibu was inundated with cascade of emotions and memories that were not his own as they flooded Ibu’s mind. The effect of the barrier’s use to kill his enemies wracked his mind and body as the pain and suffering of almost twenty individuals flowed through the troll at once. Then, almost as quick as it was cast upon him, the feeling was gone.

  Ibu fell to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Never had he felt such pain! As the adrenaline faded he began to feel the effects of the battle upon him. His leg was sore, he was bleeding from several cuts and he was pretty sure that a couple of fingers were broken. Ibu tried to shake the pain from his head as he realized that there was one mind his own didn’t touch after the barrier closed: the little girl’s.

  Sandtall chirped and nudged Ibu’s back with his beak. Ibu grunted and got to his feet, wavering for a second as he did. Sandtall leaned forward and used his neck to help Ibu gain his balance. “Thank you, my friend,” Ibu said softly. Sandtall chirped once more and urged Ibu forward. Ibu limped towards the altar.

  The little girl lay lashed to the altar, alive and crying with fright. “It’s alright now child,” Ibu said with as much kindness as he could put into his voice. The girl opened her eyes and almost shrieked with terror. She whimpered as she looked at him, but Ibu had been prepared for such a reaction. Without another word he picked up a fallen dagger and cut her bindings, making sure not to add more hurt to the already injured girl. She still seemed afraid, but less so than she had been. Ibu squatted down until he was level with the girl and reached into his pouch. He pulled out the pink ribbon he had found earlier in the day. “I believe this belongs to you,” he said with a smile. The girl bit her lower lip and looked at him, unsure of how to react. “It’s okay young one, I understand you are afraid. You have been through much, and have been hurt and scared for a long time. But no more. I promise.” He brushed her cheek with one of his long fingers and the girl began to cry, but not out of fear.

  “What is your name child?” he asked gently.

  The girl fought back a wave of sobs and was barely able to get out a single word, “Rose.” She threw her arms around his neck and cried.

  Ibu held her like that, letting her cry against his neck. Somehow, the pain he felt in his body seemed far, far away.

  The small camp rang with Rose’s laughter as Sandtall looked for the treat the girl had hidden in the folds of her dress. At first Ibu had worried that the ornery strider might get a bit irritated with the new guest, but instead Sandtall had become very protective of the little blonde girl. The thought that a vicious, predatory bird was a gentle as a puppy with the girl brought a smile to Ibu’s face.

  They were only a day or so from the village, just on the edge of the mountains that separated Ashenvale and the Barrens. The trip north had taken just over two weeks, and during that time Ibu had grown especially fond of Rose. She was quick to laughter, intelligent and completely accepting of the troll that had saved her. Every night of the trip she had curled up with a blanket, under one of Sandtall’s stumpy wings, and sang herself to sleep with a lullaby she said her mother had taught her.

  How anyone had ever tried to hurt the girl was beyond Ibu.

  But now they had reached the point that Ibu feared more than he had feared the demon on the mountain top. He was taking the girl home. They would leave before sun up, and Ibu hoped to be to the village by late afternoon. Then he would try again, as he had countless times before. Ibu looked up from his thoughts and saw Rose singing herself to sleep under Sandtall’s wing once more.

  He sat against the hollowed out stump of a tree and waited for morning. Ibu doubted any sleep would be coming for him this night.

  “Arguth?” Ibu asked as their fire burned low and the moon shone bright upon the ground. A grunt came from Arguth’s bedroll letting Ibu know that the dwarf was awake. “Will there ever be a time that I may walk into the cathedral in Stormwind without fear?”

  There was silence for a moment and then Arguth shifted in his bed so that he could sit up. He turned and saw the light reflecting off of the young troll’s eyes in the moonlight. It was a reminder how different Ibu would always be. Arguth didn’t see the blue-violet skin or the green and purple hair. He didn’t see the long tusks that jutted from the lanky troll’s jaw, nor did he notice the odd number of fingers and the gait that marked Ibu so clearly as a troll. All Arguth could see, all he ever saw was a paladin. His pupil. The years had made Ibu even more than that. More than Arguth could ever say.

  “Don’t fret over stone yet to be split, boy. They only thing you get from that is a headache and a sore stomach. We’ll get there together, eh?”

  Ibu nodded and laid back down on his bedroll. The fire popped nearby and Ibu dreamed the dreams of youth, of heroes and bards and a shining cathedral in the sunlight.

  Ibu led Sandtall down the path that led directly to the village. Rose sat quietly on the back of the strider as they approached. The path was already well worn from constant traffic and Ibu knew that sooner or later they would be seen by someone from the village. The only questions were when, and with what kind of reception.

  A horn sounded, accompanied by shouts and even a bell. Ibu flinched. No welcome ever ended well after beginning with an alarm. Ibu continued leading Sandtall ever closer to the village, his armor feeling heavier with each step. They came to the ramparts surrounding the village a few minutes later. A large crowd had gathered just beyond the makeshift gates of the village. Several bowmen and a large man with a wood chopping axe approached warily. Ibu clucked once to let Sandtall know to stop and raised his hands in a sign of peace. Ibu backed away slowly until he was parallel to Sandtall and his rider. Ibu looked at Rose and nodded, holding out his arms to her. She leaned forward and fell into his arms with a smile. Ibu returned the smile and lowered her gently to the path. In the middle of the crowd a woman screamed and the crowd began to part.

  “Mama?” asked Rose as she tried to look past the people. I woman in homespun ran out tripping as she came. Rose ran to meet her, shouting for her mama all the while. They embraced each other and cried together in relief. Ibu smiled at their happiness. The blade of an axe reminded him of his position as the armed welcoming committee drew nearer. Ibu said nothing.

  “Get out of here,” the man with the axe said threateningly. “Your kind isn’t welcome here. Go on!”

  “My kind?” Ibu replied, stung by the man’s ignorant honesty.

  “Go on,” the man repeated, brandishing his axe as menacingly as possible. The other armed men joined in and moved forward, forcing Ibu back. Ibu raised his hands in surrender and stepped back towards Sandtall. The men of the village stopped advancing as Ibu got atop of Sandtall with a graceful leap.

  “Ibu!” shouted a small voice from the crowd. The villagers tried to hold the girl back, but Rose ran past them, all the way to Sandtall. “Where are you going Ibu?” she asked with tears in her ey
es. Ibu shrugged and slid off of Sandtall, crouching down to look her in the eye. “I don’t know yet,” he said softly.

  “But I don’t want you to go,” Rose cried. Ibu smiled and shrugged saying, “There’s nothing I can do about it. If they want me to go, I must go.”

  “Are you going to forget about me?” she asked, fighting back her sobs once more.

  Ibu smiled and said, “Never. It would take more years than I have in me to forget about you.” Sandtall squawked and nudged Ibu. “He won’t be forgetting you either,” Ibu said with a laugh.

  “I’ll miss you,” Rose said as she threw her arms around the troll in a fierce hug. Ibu hugged her back, knowing that she truly would. After prying her from around his neck he went to his bag and pulled out a small metal sculpture of a flower. “For you,” Ibu said with a smile, “so that when we meet again, I know it is you.” Rose smiled and pulled the flower close. Ibu motioned for her to go back to the villagers. She walked back, much to the relief of the people, and the armed men took a not so menacing step forward once more.

  Ibu sat atop Sandtall and shook his head. He had known it would be this way, but that didn’t stop the seed of hope from growing. He clucked his tongue and turned around, Sandtall running them both away from the village as quick as he could. There would be others to help, others to save. One day, Ibu would have a home again.

  Until then, he had the memories of those that had mattered; his mother, Arguth, and now Rose. Sandtall screeched indignantly, as if knowing what Ibu had been thinking. Ibu laughed and said, “Yes, and I have you too, you oversized chicken.”