The Ghost Halfling Page 3

  “What?” said Ridmark.

  “I am being very open with you, human Ridmark,” said Ansa. “The secrets of the Gemspeakers have kept the Hidden People free for many years. Outsiders should not learn of them.”

  Ridmark shrugged. “You seem very keen to ask questions of me.”

  “I have never seen a human before. I am curious.”

  “If it makes you feel better, we are both a long way from home,” said Ridmark. “I doubt my homeland will ever threaten the Hidden People, or that the Hidden People will ever threaten Andomhaim. And…”

  He came to a stop.

  “What is it?” said Ansa, stepping to his side. She lifted her left hand, the glimmer of the Gemstone of Fire leaking between her fingers.

  “Listen,” said Ridmark.

  Someone or something was crashing through the brush ahead, and whatever it was, it wasn’t making any effort to conceal its movements. That ruled out the muridachs, and probably the bone orcs and the kobolds as well, since they could move with stealth when they wished. A bear, perhaps? Or…

  A familiar chemical reek came to Ridmark’s nostrils.

  “A foe,” hissed Ansa.

  The undead creature stumbled into sight a moment later.

  It had once been a living orc, but now its green skin had turned a mottled yellowish-gray, and thick rows of black stitches went up and down its torso and limbs. Its blood had been replaced with a chemical elixir by the necromancy of the Qazaluuskan orcs, and though its eyes had been stitched up, the creature headed unerringly towards Ridmark and Ansa.

  Ridmark dropped his bow and drew his axe. “We’ll have to take its head off. That’s the only way to stop those things. You distract it, and…”

  Ansa raised her left hand, and her face screwed up in concentration.

  The Gemstone of Fire flared in her grasp, and the undead burst into flames, so hot that Ridmark felt the heat from them against his face and hands. The undead orc managed another two steps and then collapsed to the ground, the flames winking out and leaving a charred husk in their wake. The undead of the bone orcs smelled bad, but setting them on fire did not improve their odor.

  “Or we could do that,” said Ridmark.

  “It seemed more efficient,” said Ansa.

  “How long will it take for the Gemstone to recover its power?” said Ridmark.

  “Perhaps a quarter of an hour, maybe less if I concentrate upon it,” said Ansa. “Do you expect more of these undead creatures?”

  “Yes,” said Ridmark. “I don’t think there are any villages of Qazaluuskan orcs nearby. That means there is a warband of bone orcs coming this way. They use those undead things as scouts and sentries when in battle.”

  Ansa’s frown intensified. “Will the bone orcs know that their undead was destroyed?”

  “Maybe,” said Ridmark. “It depends on how powerful the creature’s master was. All the bone orcs know at least some spells. A true shaman might be able to sense if one of his creatures was destroyed. Either way, the sooner we are gone from here, the better.”

  “A pity we cannot get the bone orcs to kill the muridachs for us,” said Ansa.

  “They would do it,” said Ridmark, “and then they would turn around and kill us and raise our corpses as undead servants. Come!”

  He led the way, following the trail the rat-creatures had left behind.

  ###

  Ridmark smelled the camp of the muridachs before he saw it.

  The rat-creatures had raised a camp atop a low hill overlooking the River of Fangs. A ring of leather tents stood around a crackling bonfire. There were nearly forty muridachs in the camp, all them armored in leather and carrying swords and daggers, and they seemed to be having an argument.

  “Do you understand their language?” said Ridmark.

  “Only a little,” said Ansa. She listened for a moment. “I think they are arguing about spoils.”

  Ridmark and Ansa hid behind a fallen tree and watched the camp. There was a table next to the campfire, and a large muridach in chain mail stood there, snarling and chittering at his followers in the muridach tongue. The table held a variety of valuable objects of orcish make, rings and torques and goblets and such, likely looted from the bone orcs.

  The Gemstone of Mist sat in their midst. Ridmark couldn’t see it from this distance, but he did see the gray light the stone gave off reflecting in the goblets.

  “They don’t know what to make of the Gemstone,” said Ansa. “This tribe of muridachs must not have heard of the Hidden People.”

  “Truly, you are hidden,” said Ridmark.

  Ansa gave him a puzzled look. The joke hadn’t worked across the language barrier.

  “We cannot overcome so many,” said Ansa.

  “No,” said Ridmark. “No, but I have an idea.”

  ###

  It had been easy to follow the trail of the muridachs, and it was even easier to follow the trail of the undead orc. Ridmark and Ansa hastened through the trees, following the ragged footprints and the lingering chemical stench.

  Soon he saw more tracks, and more and more.

  “Are you ready?” said Ridmark.

  “I am a Gemspeaker of the Ghost Path tribe of the Hidden People,” announced Ansa. “I am always ready.”

  Ridmark almost pointed out that the muridachs had taken her unawares, but refrained. “Good.”

  He lifted his bow, and Ansa did the same.

  The warband of the bone orcs came into sight.

  There were nearly ninety of them, and their faces had been painted with white and black war paint, creating the illusion of grinning skulls behind their tusks. The bone orcs often painted their torsos and arms or carved tattoos into their flesh, but Ridmark could not tell if these orcs had done the same because they all wore chain mail. It was one of the most heavily armed warbands he had seen since coming to the Qazaluuskan Forest.

  And right now, he wanted to get their attention.

  “Now?” said Ansa.

  Ridmark nodded, and they stopped.

  It did not take long for the bone orcs to notice them. They stopped at the harsh command of their leader, and more undead emerged from the trees, shambling to the sides of their masters.

  Ridmark and Ansa raised their bows and released in unison. Ridmark’s arrow took a bone orc in the shoulder, and the orcish warrior stumbled with a howl of rage. Ansa’s arrow ripped out a bone orc’s throat, and the warrior toppled to the ground. No doubt his corpse would be raised as an undead shell in service to Qazalask.

  The orcs roared in rage and charged, brandishing their weapons.

  “Now!” said Ridmark.

  Ansa shouldered her bow, lifted the Gemstone of Wind, and gripped Ridmark’s forearm. The Gemstone pulsed with blue light, and that light seemed to sink into Ridmark’s flesh. A moment of whirling disorientation went through him, and then cleared, even as the charge of the orcs seemed to slow down.

  “Run!” said Ansa.

  Ridmark whirled, and he and Ansa hurtled forward in a blur, the magic of the Gemstone of Wind augmenting their speed. It was a disconcerting sensation. Heartwarden had given Ridmark the ability to move with inhuman speed, but the Gemstone drove him along even faster. He found he had to run in short, rapid bursts. Otherwise he would hurtle into a tree and kill himself.

  Yet it was working. The enraged bone orcs came after him, undead servants lumbering at their side. Ridmark and Ansa darted ahead of them, drawing them towards the river.

  Specifically, towards the camp of the muridachs.

  The camp came into sight a moment later. Already the rat-creatures were stirring, drawn by the noise of the orcish warband heading towards them. Ridmark and Ansa stopped at the base of the hill, raised their bows, and loosed again. Their shafts connected with two muridach warriors, and the rat-creatures screamed in rage and charged from their camp, weapons ready.

  Right about then the Qazaluuskan orcs burst from the trees, and Ridmark and Ansa darted to the side, heading towards t
he riverbank with the last of the magic from the Gemstone of Winds. The muridachs and the bone orcs hesitated at the unexpected sight of each other, and then charged.

  As they fought, Ridmark and Ansa raced up the hillside and into the camp. Every single muridach had rushed to join the fight, leaving the camp abandoned. The table of treasure was unguarded, and in its center glowed a rough gemstone giving off a gray light.

  Ansa seized the Gemstone of Mists. “Run!”

  They scrambled back the hillside as the bone orcs and the muridachs continued their battle.

  ###

  Ridmark and Ansa crossed the River of Fangs, reached the opposite bank, and spent the rest of the day running. When the Gemstone of Winds recharged its power, Ansa used it to augment their speed, and thanks to the stone’s magic, they covered twice as much distance as Ridmark had thought they would. The Lion Mountains drew steadily closer.

  “I think we can stop now,” said Ridmark. Ansa put away her Gemstones, breathing hard. The effort of using the Gemstones seemed to take a great deal of her strength. “Whoever won that battle probably won’t have much interest in finding us. The muridachs will be retreating back to the Deeps if they won, and the bone orcs will be raising their dead as undead if they won.”

  “Agreed,” said Ansa. She took a deep breath. “Thank you for helping me to recover the Gemstone of Mists. It would have been a grave dishonor to return to the Ghost Path without it.”

  “And we might not have been able to enter Urd Drysaar,” said Ridmark.

  “No,” said Ansa. She stared at him for a moment. “Marcomer is alive. I am sure of it.”

  “I will not argue with you,” said Ridmark. “Not when we can put it to the proof.”

  For Urd Drysaar would not be much farther away. There Ridmark could speak with the Elder Shamans and learn the secret of the return of the Frostborn.

  Or he would die trying.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading THE GHOST HALFLING. If you liked the book, please consider leaving a review at your ebook site of choice. To receive immediate notification of new releases, sign up for my newsletter, or watch for news on my Facebook page.

  Follow this link to read the next adventure for Ridmark and his companions in Frostborn: The Gray Knight.

  Other books by the author

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  MAZAEL CRAVENLOCK is a wandering knight, fearless in battle and masterful with a sword.

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  Read Demonsouled for free. Mazael's adventures continue in Soul of Tyrants, Soul of Serpents, Soul of Dragons, Soul of Sorcery, Soul of Skulls, and Soul of Swords, along with the short stories The Wandering Knight, The Tournament Knight, and The Dragon's Shadow. Get the first three books bundled together in Demonsouled Omnibus One.

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  Caina Amalas of the Ghosts opposes these mighty enemies, but the cost might be more than she can bear.

  Read Child of the Ghosts for free. Caina's adventures continue in Ghost in the Flames, Ghost in the Blood, Ghost in the Storm, Ghost in the Stone, Ghost in the Forge, Ghost in the Ashes, Ghost in the Mask, and Ghost in the Surge, along with the short stories Ghost Aria, Ghost Claws, Ghost Omens, The Fall of Kyrace, Ghost Thorns, Ghost Undying, Ghost Light, and Ghost Dagger, and the prequel novels Blade of the Ghosts and Champion of the Ghosts. Get the first three books bundled together in The Ghosts Omnibus One.

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