Roy Dudley

Out of Sync Page 1

Chapter 1

   Far away in the Fennigal Mountains, a blue fox fire came alight on the wings of the wind and flew to the east, across a vast canyon, and caressed the pinnacle spire of Ainistree Castle. The blue flame flickered gently for a moment and as gently vanished. In just such a way were elves born and great deeds performed maintained the common folk of the valley.

   And these people could be right, for Ainistree Castle perched atop a steep and lofty mountain with sheer cliffs to all sides. None had ventured there, nor would they. There were no roads, no trails, no method of climbing the precipitous slopes of the mountains, much less the vertical cliffs. The castle, if such it were, rested atop an upthrust of towering rock, lifting its lofty spires into the icy and high flung crystals of the cirrus clouds.

   From the valley and from the surrounding slopes, Ainistree Castle was but a vague image of dimly seen spires, turrets and walls of rock. Many deemed the castle a figment of fertile imaginations, a natural thing of spires and shards of broken rock, but on a vast scale. Shrouded in the clouds, hidden by the mists of distance, none could be certain. But those supporting the castle theory, argued that the castle itself perched atop a vast plateau of rock, for there was that dividing line between castle and stone, with the castle proper withdrawn from the cliffs themselves. Additionally, the pinnacle spire must be extremely large to be so readily visible some three miles below, and this with a part of the castle shielded by the cliffs.

   In the second level below the top of the central spire, was a spacious room by Ainistree standards and a vast room by valley standards. The furnishings were luxurious, if somewhat strange. A soft rug covered the floor, the silver pile high enough to tickle a man's ankles. The ceiling vaulted upward into a gently sloping dome, perhaps four spear lengths above the floor. The walls were ablaze with bright and varied tapestry and with art work on a huge scale. There were no windows. The chairs were narrow and large, of polished stone, and of different colorations and striations. A tremendous stone table occupied the center of the room. Resting against the walls, and isolated on the floor, were barred cages, vials, chemicals and strange contraptions. The cages were empty. A soft light, which cast no shadows, touched each and all with varied intensity.

   On the north side of the room stood a desk on a raised dais of qstone. The desk too was of stone, a blood red stone polished to a high gloss. Seemingly red spirals and flames danced within the stone to some rhythm of their own. Atop the desk, and in disorderly array, rested papers, maps, rolls of parchment, assorted rulers, pencils and oddments. The floor here was of stone, a translucent and light blue with veined depths of gold. On one corner of the desk, perched a white crystal sphere mounted on a blue stone pedestal. Shimmering in the crystal's smoky depths, were sparkling amber points of light.

   Near the corner of the desk holding the sphere, stood a strange being, more than vaguely human in proportions. His height was more than that of an average man, yet the breadth that of a small man. Tall and willowy with fair hair framing a thin face too beautiful to be wholly human, this being rested the long forefinger of his right hand gently on the crystal sphere. Rich and close fitting clothing of silk and velvet furnished an outline to a thin figure with long legs and a slim waist. Velvet breeches stretched to and were encased by satiny boots, whose sheen was not leathern. The feet were thin and small, seemingly too tiny to support the elongated body. Great blue eyes stared fixedly at the wall of tapestry near the desk. Face and eyes wavered, became faint and firmed once more.

   Blue fire flamed suddenly in the crystal, painting the pale face with a bluish cast, washing the blue eyes to a paler blue. Dusky blue tendrils of smoke hung, suspended above the sphere, writhing their discontent. These tendrils formed and reformed until a dark and shimmering figure firmed. A squirrel-like creature, with pointed ears and protruding squirrel teeth, sat upright on a bushy tail, his front feet clawed wickedly and extended threateningly. The squirrel was a pfistar.

   "What wouldst thou of me?" demanded the pfistar angrily.

   The man-like creature flicked a finger against the pfistar's nose in a move almost too fast to catch. The pfistar emitted a squall of anger and pain, but his clawed front feet batted thin air.

   "What wouldst thou with me, Master Danideen?" asked the pfistar more respectfully, if with no better humor.

   Danideen's lips curved in a smile, something of latent cruelty and something of regret on his face. "Trothgard, are you not?"

   "Aye, that I am, master."

   "And you and yours would bite the hand that gives you life?"

   "Nay, that we would not do. But now is a bad time for summoning."

   "There is no good time, worthless one. Why the ill temper?"

   "Trolls and goblins, my lord. They seek our burrows."

   "Has it not ever been so, Trothgard, my misbegotten one?"

"Aye, so it has, but now worse for us, for they are more numerous."

   "And you have lost kith and kin?"

   "So I have, and no help from you and yours." Trothgard hesitated and added, "Master."

   The lips curved wickedly in the beautiful face. "If you don't need my help," Danideen said carelessly, "you may go." He made as if to lift his finger from the crystal.

   "Wait," screamed the animal.

   "Yes?" inquired Danideen coldly.

   "Master, we need help. But what you ask of me--us, must not divert us long."

   "Long or short, what I ask of you will be done else your tribe will vanish like the mists of morning."

   Trothgard chittered in agitation. "What help do you promise, master?"

   "I promise nothing but your pelt pinned against a tree, and you out of it. If it's trouble you're wanting, I'll include the whole tribe of yours."

   "No trouble, master, no trouble. Tell me what you wish."

   The blue eyes turned cold and terrible as Danideen examined the pfistar. "If Malvoureen and her witches sing sweet songs in your ears, heed them not. Their vengeance against me will not be one half mine against your wretched tribe. I am not blind to their strivings, so heed me well."

   Trothgard squirmed and postured, his courage dwindling, and him deathly afraid. "As you will, master."

   Danideen turned his eyes to the tapestry, ignoring the pfistar. "There are two clans of men, one the Azurs, the other the Bedos. They have united into one clan called Bedazur. I would know of them."

   "They live over the mountains," wailed Trothgard.

   "So I will transport you."

   "It will take many of us from our homes, master. The trolls and goblins will win our burrows."

   Again the blue eyes read Trothgard. "I will transport as many as is required. For each I transport, one goblin and one troll shall cease to be."

   "But, master, how??"

   "Do not bargain too shrewdly or I will use other means. You are useful to me only as long as I can use you. Do not forget that."

   Trothgard chittered his distress from deep in his throat, but dared not resist. "It will be as you say, master."

   "Then so long as you and yours, kith and kin, serve me truly, so long will I hold the trolls and goblins from your door."

   Trothgard bowed awkwardly from the waist, exposing his elongated teeth in a grin. "That is good, master. Command me."

"There are man wars on the wing, worthless one. These wars will see the uniting of clans into one; and the cement may well be the Bedazurs."

   Trothgard smirked knowingly. Danideen ignored him.

   "I must have the welding of one special Azur to me, Talli by name. By him, and through him, I can see this war to an orderly conclusion, before it washes the shores of Elismore. Man war is the one thing besides myself which can guarantee the extinction of your tribe and, mayhap, of me."

   "Man," sniffed the squirrel, "he is not to be reckoned. He is nothing, chaff in the wind."

   "Little know you of mortal man and Elismore, Trothgard. You, I formed of earth and clay, and with little enough of brains. Thus you think poorly and reason lightly. Do not extend yourself beyond your powers, else you die, and not by my hands."

   "Riddles you speak, master. Am I not equal to and better than man?"

   "You are equal to none except as I so ordain. Seek not to be what you aren't, else you will cease to be. Do not touch man or read of him, except as I bid you. Man is dangerous to you, to me, to Elismore. Do not listen to the siren call of the witches. They reckon to you powers which you do not possess."

   That Trothgard was shaken was evident, but much of what was said, he disbelieved and disdained. Danideen was ever talking of man war and inflating himself. Nevertheless, he bowed once more. "As you say, master."

   "Then collect those you need and contact me. I will transport them."

   Danideen lifted his finger from the crystal, and Trothgard was no more in the room. The same finger touched the tapestry, and the vast mountain panorama surrounding the castle appeared. Below Ainistree lay a great gulf of a valley, leading to the nearby sea. On the far side of the valley, to the east, was another mountain range which wetted its feet in the sea. Beyond that lay the Plains of Muhlhaven and Fenistree Castle, home of Malvoureen and her witches. Some day he would lay it flat. In the meantime, their antics furnished him with recreation on occasion.

   To the west of Ainistree Castle, range upon range of ragged mountains led the human eye west into a blue nothing. However, Danideen's gaze swept across the mountains to a low range of hills which lay past the blue horizon. This was the land of Bedazur.

   Bedazur lay among fertile and rolling hills, surrounded by massed jungles and swamps, but was a pleasant place withal. There was little of war here. Inside the environs of Bedazur proper, the population was small, but these residents were justifiably famed in war. Those few who inhabited the jungles were hardly to be considered.

   Danideen studied the seven rustic castles--primitive holdings really--something of disdain on his face. Aside from the central castle of stone, he judged none could stand assault. The holders of the castles were savages, but useful perhaps. They were mostly farmers, although there was a smithy too. There was little else. They knew nothing of the dark arts, other than simple spells to render them infertile. That was a boon, for most clans populated land far too quickly.

   Only an Azur would be of use to him. Azurs possessed a night vision of sorts, at least enough to visualize simple scenes and objects. This would allow them to wend the mazes of troll, goblin and dwarf tunnels in search of the treasures lost long ago by Elismore. This night vision, plus the treasure, would combine to set him on the path to his throne once more.

   Once Trothgard had sent visual pictures of Bedazur, and an accurate mapping of Talli's brain patterns, he, Danideen, would have a cutting tool to his liking.

   Talli, the Azur, possessed more intelligence than normal, was young--a mere twenty one--malleable and easy to control. The son of a clan chief, he would carry enough of authority to arouse his people and serve Danideen in his plans.

   Trothgard and his like had served a purpose, a sort of outpost against trolls, goblins, dwarves and elves; a fairly reliable listening post too. Now, once this venture was complete, Trothgard would have outlived his usefulness

   The goblins and trolls had largely forgotten Danideen's strivings, although they would never forgive him. The elves had withdrawn to their northern fastness, interfering no more in human affairs. The dwarves would never forget nor cease contesting him, but their magic was weak and them of little consequence. There was only Malvoureen and her witches blocking him, and them more an inconvenience than a threat.

   Alone of all his enemies, King Hugh of the Dwarves stood astride his path to Falmaree. Danideen held a healthy respect for King Hugh as a warrior, but little valued his limited sorcery. And Talli would take care of that.

   Danideen enlarged the picture of Bedazur's central castle idly. The sun blazed in a blue sky, a hot sun, an equatorial sun. There were few Azurs apparent for they slept away the daylight hours, preferring the night for their farming. Dark skinned Bedos tilled the fields now, hunted the forests and manned the ramparts. The smithy stood within the castle grounds, the whole enclosed by grim stone walls; and the smithy belching smoky fumes which polluted the air. Coal and charcoal the fools used in their forgings This was fortunate for Elfdom, yet his lips curled.

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