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    The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest
    The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest
    The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest
    Ebook214 pages3 hours

    The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest

    By Kenneth McDonald

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    In this fifth entry in the “Graves Crew” series, the band of misfit laborers is united again, this time on a secret mission in search of a powerful source of magic. The White Order has come under direct attack by agents of the rebel Baron, and the key to their defeat may be Keev, whose strange magical talents have attracted attention from both sides. Accompanied by a white mage, the crew must delve into the depths of the mysterious Graemewyld to find a weapon that could end the war for good. But the forest does not tolerate intrusions, and the Baron's minions are already on their way to ensure that the quest fails.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKenneth McDonald
    Release dateMar 8, 2019
    ISBN9780463358900
    The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest
    Author

    Kenneth McDonald

    I am a retired education consultant who worked for state government in the area of curriculum. I have also taught American and world history at a number of colleges and universities in California, Georgia, and South Carolina. I started writing fiction in graduate school and never stopped. In 2010 I self-published the novella "The Labyrinth," which has had over 100,000 downloads. Since then, I have published more than fifty fantasy and science fiction books on Smashwords. My doctorate is in European history, and I live with my wife in northern California.

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      Book preview

      The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest - Kenneth McDonald

      The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest

      Kenneth McDonald

      Kmcdonald4101@gmail.com

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2019 by Kenneth McDonald

      Cover Credit: the cover image is adapted from the painting The Natural Bridge, Virginia by Frederic Edwin Church (1852). The image is in the public domain.

      * * * * *

      Works by Kenneth McDonald

      The Ogre at the Crossroads

      The Graves Crew

      The Graves Crew and the Restless Dead

      The Graves Crew and the Damned Dam

      The Graves Crew and the Firestar Amulet

      The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

      The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest

      Refugees of the Crucible

      Powerless

      Overpowered

      Balance of Power

      Soul Weapons

      Wizard’s Shield

      Soul of the Sword

      Wizard’s Stone

      Tales of the Soul Weapons

      The Dwarf on the Mountain

      The Colors of Fate

      Black Shadows Gather

      Green Hearts Weep

      Red Vengeance Rising

      Faded Yellow Dreams

      Blazing White Stars

      Shiny Golden Schemes

      The Mages of Sacreth

      The Labyrinth

      Of Spells and Demons

      Grimm’s War

      Grimm’s Loss

      Grimm’s Love

      Of Blood and Magic

      Of Steel and Sorcery

      The Godswar Trilogy

      Paths of the Chosen

      Choice of the Fallen

      Fall of Creation

      Daran’s Journey

      Heart of a Hero

      Soul of a Coward

      Will of a Warrior

      Courage of a Champion

      * * * * *

      Prologue

      Zullos had not been to Scullin’s Peak in over six months. As he rode into the camp, sagging with exhaustion from the long journey through the mountains, he saw that a good deal had changed in that time.

      The settlement that sprawled over the southern shoulder of the mountain had grown and taken on a look of permanence. It definitely looked lived-in, with a general sense of squalor that was especially stark when contrasted with his recent time in Kalvanis. He had come a long way from the Duke’s capital, both in terms of distance and in circumstance.

      Tired, broken men—and the camp was more than ninety percent men—watched him with hungry eyes as he rode past. It was probably his horse that interested them, Zullos thought. It was very likely that this would be a rough winter for the survivors of the Baron’s army. Zullos had picked up various bits of information about the recent setbacks suffered by the rebels on his journey here, but it was something else to see the results firsthand.

      As he passed through the camp, and began to ascend the uneven trail that led up the side of the mountain, the scenery changed. He passed another rough gathering of hide shelters that made the army camp seem orderly by contrast. Here too hard eyes and harder men greeted him, but these lacked the air of defeat that had hung thick among the rebel survivors. They were orkh-men from the far north, their skin tinged a pale blue, their hair braided with bones and other primitive fetishes. There were perhaps a few dozen that Zullos could see, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there were other eyes watching him as well. A few smiled at him as he rode past, revealing teeth that they had filed to points.

      Zullos let out a shudder as he rode past them.

      Beyond the camp of the orkh-men the path grew steeper and more rugged, transitioning past several switchbacks as it ascended the shoulder of the peak. Zullos’s horse was as tired as he was, and he let the animal take its time in navigating the difficult climb. A cold wind blew down off the mountain, chilling him even through his heavy coat. There was no snow yet at this elevation, but he knew that it would be coming soon. The cloak of white that draped the summit of the peak was just a preview.

      Finally, he approached his destination. The entrance was about five hundred feet above the level of the camps below, the men wandering around the tents and other shelters looking tiny and insignificant from his current vantage. He wondered if that was what the Baron saw when he looked down from his perch atop the mountains. Did he see the ruins of his once-ambitious dreams, or something else?

      There was a structure at the top of the path, an old stone shell of a house that no one had ever bothered to repair. A man emerged from it as he entered. He was thin and reedy, and looked as though a sharp gust would tear him off the mountain. He wore a threadbare coat that obviously offered little protection from the cold, given the way he shivered as the rider approached. He didn’t offer conversation and Zullos didn’t give him any as he dismounted and handed over the reins to his horse. The man quickly took the animal into the remains of the house, leaving Zullos alone.

      The entrance was just a bit further on. From the outside it looked like a cave. The irregular opening was maybe fifteen feet high, with a low overhang that sheltered it from above. Zullos wasn’t particularly tall, but he still had to duck slightly as he went in. But inside the space quickly expanded until he could barely see the ceiling in the dim light that made it in from outside.

      A lamp shone faintly from the far end of the cave, guiding him forward. The floor was somewhat uneven, but there was a smoothed path that led from the entrance toward the light. The cave began to shrink again as he got closer, until it ended in a solid-looking wall of mortared stone. A door was set into the middle of that barrier, a monstrosity of riveted iron plates that looked like it had been designed to withstand a battering ram. The door had an elaborate locking mechanism operated by a small wheel set into its right side, but it appeared to be slightly open.

      Two guards warded the door. They did not react to Zullos’s approach, instead staring blankly forward as if unaware of his presence. They were big men, clad in hauberks of mail that extended from their throats to their knees, with greaves that protected their arms and shins. Each carried a monstrous battle axe with a long haft that touched the floor in front of them.

      Zullos came to a stop a few steps away from the sentries. I am expected, he said.

      Neither man moved. Zullos waited for a full ten heartbeats before he sighed and said, I am going in now.

      He stepped forward, but before he took a second step one of the guards shifted to block his path. Zullos drew back reflexively, squashing the instinct to reach for the hilt of the small thrusting sword that hung from his belt. But the sentry suddenly cocked his head as if listening to someone. Zullos heard nothing, but the man stepped aside and resumed his original position.

      Well, I’m glad we got that straightened out, Zullos said. He stepped past the men, deliberately not glancing back as he shouldered the door fully open. It was heavy, but it swung wide with just a slight creak from its thick hinges.

      The space beyond the door quickly narrowed from the natural remnant of the cave to a passageway of worked stone. It continued straight into the mountain, descending at an angle just significant to be noticeable. Tiny hand-lamps in niches in the walls provided just enough light for him to see, though for a time there was nothing to see except for bare stone.

      The corridor eventually ended in a small antechamber that looked like it had been hewn from the solid rock of the mountain. Narrow openings to the left and right led to additional chambers, while another passage, this one slightly larger, exited on the far side of the room. A lantern hung from a chain that dangled from the ceiling, filling the space with a more generous ration of light, but other than a very simple stone bench near the entry that was the only concession that the room made to comfort.

      A man was waiting for Zullos as he came in. He wore a long robe padded with fur at the collar and cuffs. He looked tired too, but his eyes became sharp as he fixed them on the new arrival.

      Zullos, he said.

      Calvren.

      I am here to see the Baron, Zullos said.

      Yes, I know. You were expected some time ago.

      It wasn’t exactly easy to avoid the army that the Duke has positioned to seal you in here, Zullos said.

      Calvren’s lips twisted in disapproval, as if the status of armies was beyond his concern. You must divest yourself before you pass further, he said.

      Zullos reached for the buckle of his sword belt, but the other hissed in annoyance. "Not your sword, he said. The amulet. Do not bother trying to dissemble, I can feel it."

      Zullos’s hand had crept reflexively to his throat as Calvren spoke, and now his own expression turned sour. Why should I leave it with you? I was granted its power, and I have used it to the aid of the Baron’s cause.

      Nevertheless, Calvren said, with enough smugness that for a moment Zullos was tempted to strike him.

      And if I refuse?

      The other did not move or make any other signal that Zullos could see, but four figures came silently into the room through the side entrances. They were all of the same type that had warded the door above. These did not make any hostile moves or even look at Zullos, but the message was unmistakably clear.

      Zullos looked back at Calvren, who just stood there waiting patiently. The smart thing would have been to comply, but as tired as he was Zullos was not certain what effect removing the amulet would have on him. There could be no doubt of his loyalty, or at least he hoped that was the case, but he also knew that showing weakness, here of all places, was not wise.

      The moment stretched on, the tension growing, until a voice finally interrupted and said, "Leave it be, Calvren. Permit Master Zullos to pass… intact."

      Both men turned toward the far corridor, where a tall, slender woman had appeared. She looked to be about fifty, her tawny shoulder-length hair woven through with silver, matching the stitching on the broad, long coat she wore. Beneath the coat she wore a silk blouse and practical trousers tucked into fur-lined, knee high boots. A golden necklace hung from her neck, studded with sparkling blue sapphires, with matching earrings and a single large stone set into a silver pin embedded in her hair. Her demeanor was relaxed, even casual, but when her eyes met Zullos’s they fixed upon him with an intensity like twin daggers.

      Calvren dipped into a bow even before she had finished speaking. Baroness, he said. He turned to the four guards, and this time made an overt gesture that had them vanishing back to whence they had come.

      Come, the Baroness said. She turned and headed briskly back down the passage, forcing Zullos to hurry a bit to keep up.

      Thank you for that, he said as he came up alongside her.

      Do not presume that my actions grant you some form of autonomy, she said without looking at him. We gave you your power, and that grant can be revoked at any time.

      Zullos stiffened, but he wisely elected to say nothing.

      They passed a few more side rooms, small chambers sparsely furnished as living and working quarters. The Baroness turned into one that contained several tables scattered with maps and other papers, but she kept on going to an opening in the far wall that turned into a narrow staircase that spiraled down. She continued to move quickly, her boots making a soft click on the bare stone steps.

      They came to another level of the complex. This one was both more brightly lit and more comfortable, with less of a chill and a hint of something sweet hanging in the air. A hallway led in two directions past the landing where the stairs ended, and the Baroness led them to the left. A faint sound was just audible in the distance, a clatter of metal striking metal.

      Your venture in Kalvanis was not entirely successful, she said as they walked.

      I deployed the weapon exactly as I was directed, Zullos said. I was nearly taken by the Grays in the process.

      You were chosen because you had proven a certain… resourcefulness… in the past. You were given considerable resources to complete your task.

      I got the weapon inside the Round, as I had promised I would. Everything that happened after that was beyond my control. You knew that the White Order is not toothless. They will now be on their guard against another assault.

      She waved her hand as if the matter was inconsequential. We have another task for you.

      That got Zullos’s attention, but as he turned to look at her, he was distracted by something else. They were walking past a wide alcove where a set of wooden double doors led into another chamber. One of the doors was open, revealing a richly-apportioned hall decorated with rugs and wall hangings. A dining table with seats for a dozen people was visible to the right, while to the left a pair of large leather arm chairs faced a hearth where a fire blazed brightly. It looked like a scene one might find in a lord’s keep or a manor house, instead of buried under a mountain a week’s travel from the nearest city.

      But it wasn’t the room that had drawn Zullos’s notice. Seated in one of the arm chairs was a man. He seemed to be in his late forties or early fifties, his strong features somewhat worn by a recent familiarity with stress and privation. His clothes were a match for the rich garb worn by the Baroness. He wore a circlet in which a red stone twice the size of a coin glimmered brightly in the reflected light of the fire. Or maybe it glowed with its own light; Zullos could not be certain.

      The man was staring straight ahead, gazing intensely into an empty corner of the room. A bit of wetness on the corner of his mouth shone in the firelight.

      Zullos started as the Baroness stepped into his line of sight. She smiled softly as she leaned over and pulled the door closed. My lord husband is communing with a greater power this eve, she said. Be assured, I am fully empowered to treat with you.

      With an effort of will Zullos tore his gaze from the closed door. She wanted me to see this, he thought. But why?

      He followed her down the hall for a short distance further before she led him into another small room. This one was outfitted with some relatively plain-looking, functional pieces of furniture, including a table, wardrobe, and a freestanding cabinet with an attached hutch. The Baroness went to the hutch and took out a bottle and a pair of glasses. Can I offer you a drink?

      With respect, Baroness, I have had a very long journey. I am in dire need of rest and a hot meal.

      Yes, she said, pouring herself a measure of amber liquid from the bottle. She swirled it in her glass as she turned to regard him with a weighing look. "I can feel the strain on you. And them. Your time in Kalvanis was useful, even if you did not accomplish as much as we had hoped."

      You mentioned another task.

      Yes. An important task, one that requires your unique talents. Are you familiar with the Graemewyld, Zullos?

      He blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. Only by reputation. I took the more southerly route to get here and avoided the route that passes close by the forest. Why?

      The White Order has turned its attention upon the ancient wood, the Baroness said. They seek something within its hallowed fastness.

      Something that is a threat to us?

      That remains to be seen. You are to ensure that it does not become so.

      I was lucky to be able to get out of the Duchy undetected after what happened in Kalvanis, Zullos said. It will be harder still to get back in.

      I trust in your resourcefulness.

      The Order will be on its guard, as I said. It will be difficult to catch them unawares this time.

      Do not fear. You will be provided resources to assist you. Our information is that only a single mage accompanies the expedition to the forest.

      Zullos made a few calculations in his head. How much of a lead do they have?

      "Some. Not

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