The Gateway (Harbinger of Doom Volume 1) Read Online Free Page B

facing something whose howls carry for miles, that
spouts evil fog and waylays our finest men. To face such an enemy,
we need a bit of the arcane I think.”
    “ Well, I’ll have none of it,” said
Ob. “Nothing but rubbish.”
    “ I’ll not touch those things,”
said one knight.
    “ Nor will I,” said
another.
    “ I’ll take one,” said Claradon, as
he and Theta moved toward Gabriel. Claradon reached out toward the
glowing blade.
    “ Dargus dal is mine,” said Gabriel
as he sheathed it and reached down into the chest. “But you may
have its twin.” Gabriel pulled another wondrous blade from the
chest and handed it to Claradon. “It is called Worfin dal, which
means the lord’s dagger in the old tongue.”
    “ Asgardian daggers,” said Theta.
“I thought them all lost long ago.”
    “ Not all, my Lord,” said Gabriel.
“Some few remain. I regret that I cannot offer you one, for of them
I possess only two.” He reached into the chest and withdrew another
dagger. This one was longer and thinner than the first two. Its
scabbard and pommel were less ornate, and although it glowed, its
luminescence paled in comparison to the first two. He presented it
to Theta.
    “ This one, and all the rest are of
the finest Dyvers steel and ensorcelled by the arch-mages of the
Order of the Arcane. No better blades are forged in Midgaard today,
dwarven boasts notwithstanding.”
    Theta nodded his thanks.
    “ These blades will protect us from
the baleful fog and blind our enemies with the light of just and
valiant Tyr,” said Gabriel. “There are enough for each of you. Each
man will take one, like it as not. That includes you good
Castellan.”
    The men grumbled and grunted in protest, but
in the end, each dutifully girded one of the daggers about their
waist or ankle.
    “ I look forward to hearing the
tale of how you acquired these,” said Claradon.
    “ And I’ll gladly tell it to you
and Aradon both, upon our return.”
    “ I’ll be hearing that tale too,”
said Ob, “as long as it comes with mead or good gnomish
ale.”

    VI
    DOR EOTRUS

    Claradon led the group from the central tower,
the very heart of the Dor, through the courtyard and down Market
Street, toward the main gates. As they made their way, they saw
citizens dashing about, frightened looks etched on their faces.
Many were carrying loads of food or other supplies, stocking up for
a feared siege; some were loading wagons with all their worldly
belongings, apparently preparing to flee the Dor for safer
environs. More than a few residents of the Outer Dor, the town
beyond the main walls, were filing into the keep proper, seeking
more secure refuge for the night. There truly was an unmistakable
and pervading sense of doom plaguing the keep. Dor Eotrus had ever
been a place of strength, peace, and security. Now all that had
changed.
    Despite the circumstances, walking toward the
main gates Claradon couldn’t help but be impressed by the strength
and majesty of the Dor itself. The twelve-foot thick outer and
inner walls of the noble castle, crafted by master stonemasons,
stood forty and sixty feet in height, respectively. Mammoth towers
flanked the main gate and additional towers were situated at the
four corners of both the outer and inner baileys. The towers’
crenellated parapets partially obscured an array of large catapults
and ballistae fortifying the roofs. Looking back, whence they came,
he could see the enormous cylindrical tower they had recently
exited. It was a magnificent work of engineering that approached
two hundred fifty feet in height and included several majestic
turrets and minarets that branched off from the primary
tower.
    Claradon had ordered the Dor’s forces to
prepare to defend against a possible attack and as they approached
the main gate, he saw that the preparations were well underway.
Squads of men-at-arms guarded the entranceway and the barbican area
beyond. Soldiers on the allures were heating iron vats filled with
oil