Chapter 1

 

 

Eldor the wizard knew he was walking into trouble. He could sense it in the fierce storm that raged about the Barren Hills in the land of Lendor. In the howling, icy wind that whipped across the desolate plateau where he stood. In the rolling dark storm clouds where lightning rippled and thunder rumbled like wicked laughter.

 

But most of all he could feel it in the ruins of the old castle. It stood ahead of him in the distance, rising out of the gloomy light of early morning. It had been repaired since the last time he was here, the holes in the walls gone and the roofs mended.

 

He had spent a day here almost two years ago with Jena the gnome and Nyssa the elf. They all had been on their way to rescue Jena’s brother, Dom from the wicked sorceress, Mogrom.

 

They had been successful in that and few had seen or heard of her since then. But he had known for some while that she had taken over the castle. He had wondered too what new terror she might unleash on Lendor. Now he was about to find out.

 

For nearly two week terrible storms and blizzards had turned spring back into winter in the north of Lendor. The snow and bitter cold had prevented crops from being planted and orchard trees that should have been budding with leaves awaiting fruit were bare. If nothing could grow over the spring and summer, then folk would start to go hungry.

 

Eldor knew Mogrom could bend the weather with her magic, able to create small storms. Yet these storms were much more powerful and there was a deeply evil taint to them. He knew of only one creature who could do so and if he was involved than Lendor was in grave peril.

 

He shivered in the icy wind and hugged his cloak tighter around him. He then looked at the small, snowy white owl perched on his shoulder. The bird cocked its head, eying him questioningly.

 

‘Stay here, Moonwing,’ Eldor said. ‘If I don’t return by nightfall, you must fly north to the dwarves.’

 

Moonwing uttered a single hoot of understanding and shook his feathers. He then launched himself into the air where he would circle in wait. Eldor then gripped the wooden staff he carried, a silver claw at its tip grasping a dark orange crystal. Then he stepped forward toward the castle to find out if his fears were correct.

 

* * *

 

There were goblins guarding the castle’s open drawbridge, dressed in the leather armour they favoured over their green, lizard like skin. They all carried spears and swords and some the slings they used with deadly accuracy. As soon as they saw Eldor approaching a shout was given and one disappeared into the castle.

 

As Eldor came up to the drawbridge a larger goblin appeared. It was Craw, Mogrom’s chief goblin and troublemaker when it was required. He was missing his right ear and Eldor had always wondered who had given him the injury… elf or a dwarf?

 

‘Enjoy your walk, wizard?’ he sneered as Eldor stopped before him. ‘Quite cold wouldn’t you say… to be out and about?’

 

Eldor eyed Craw sharply with his grey eyes.

 

‘It’s always cold in these parts, Craw… just like you and your mistress,’ he replied.

 

Craw grinned slyly.

 

‘You’ll soon find out what real cold is,’ he growled. ‘Mogrom has plans for you.’

 

‘She always has plans for me, Craw,’ Eldor replied. ‘They never seem to work out though.’

 

‘Not this time, wizard,’ Craw chuckled and waved a hand for him to enter the castle. ‘This time things will be different. Now… Mogrom is expecting you.’

 

Eldor ignored the threat and went to step past him. But as he did a stronger gust of wind suddenly swirled about him. It was so icy it snatched his breath away and made his very bones ache. He wondered again what he was walking into and glanced at Craw.

 

‘I told you it was cold!’ he said with a knowing smirk and then stepped away.

 

Eldor followed him into the castle and across a wide courtyard toward the castle’s large keep. Behind him the drawbridge rose with a creaking of wood and iron hinges and shut with a resounding boom.

 

They entered the keep and stepped down a wide corridor. Lanterns hung from iron hooks on the walls, all burning a dim red. In their ruddy light Eldor could see the walls were covered in a layer of frost and the air felt even colder.

 

He followed Craw as he turned down another corridor and approached a great wooden door studded with rusty, iron bolts. They stopped before it, Craw raising a fist and pounding on it. The sound echoed eerily down the corridor and then the door opened inwards with a heavy creak.

 

Craw waved Eldor through and he stepped into a huge hall dimly lit like the corridors. Great stone pillars marched down it on both sides and in their shadows he could see more goblins. As he went passed them their pale yellow eyes fixed on him in loathing.

 

The pillars ended about two thirds of the way down the hall and beyond was an open space. At the end of the hall was a stone dais and on it was a throne of black marble. Here sat Mogrom the Sorceress. She was dressed in dark purple robes with a hood pulled over her head so that her face was in shadow. Only the glimmer of her blood red eyes could be seen.

 

As Eldor reached the dais she raised a bony hand, so pale it appeared almost bloodless.

 

‘Why, Eldor!’ she said in her cackling manner. ‘It’s so good of you to drop by.’

 

‘I’m hardly a welcome guest anywhere you are, Mogrom,’ Eldor replied.

 

‘So true… and entirely of my making,’ she replied smugly. ‘So… what do I owe for this visit.’

 

‘I think you know why I have come,’ Eldor said. ‘What evil scheme are you up to with this foul weather?’

 

‘Yes… it is a bit cold for this time of the year,’ Mogrom said. ‘But I had no idea I was so powerful. You honour me with such an accusation.’

 

‘I know who lies here in wait, Mogrom,’ Eldor said. ‘He too will know defeat, as will you again in whatever your scheme is.’

 

‘Oh, not this time, Eldor,’ Mogrom hissed. ‘This time I shall triumph and see all of Lendor enslaved.’

 

‘You are foolish to align yourself with him,’ Eldor said. ‘He has no love of life… of any kind. He will turn on you in the end.’

 

Mogrom’s eyes glimmered in anger at the insult and she stabbed a bony finger at him.

 

‘It’s you who is the fool, Eldor,’ she snapped. ‘Orcon and I shall rule all Lendor and there is nothing you can do to stop me this time.’

 

Even though he had suspected who Mogrom had joined with, the truth of her treachery still filled him with dismay. Orcon was the Ice Lord of the North, a powerful elemental being of earth magic. He ruled the ice lands far north of the Chill Mountains and commanded winter’s rule. He loathed anything living, be it elf or dwarf, bird or beast, even a blade of grass.

 

‘Whatever Orcon has promised you Mogrom, they are lies,’ he said. ‘He will not share anything with you and you will be his puppet till he has no further use for you.’

 

‘Bah!’ Mogrom scoffed. ‘You say that because you fear him… and well you should.’

 

‘And what of Ashmon, the Desert Lord of the South and summer’s ruler,’ Eldor went on. ‘He’ll not allow Orcon to banish Lendor’s summer and will deal harshly with you when he finds out.’

 

Ashmon was also a powerful earth elemental. He ruled the summer winds from deep within the unknown lands of the Scorching Desert far to the south of Lendor. Eldor hoped that she had overlooked him, but the wicked gleam in her eyes filled him with dread.

 

‘Oh, we have taken care of Ashmon,’ she said in a gloating tone. ‘Do you think we would just hope he would ignore us? Oh, no… we’ve seen to him. Whilst he slumbered during the winter, Orcon… with my help… placed an ice spell over his desert cave. He will sleep there till Orcon moves his winter south and then entomb him in ice… forever!’

 

‘You are truly mad, Mogrom!’ Eldor exclaimed. ‘Without Ashmon, Orcon’s winter will cover all the lands and nothing will survive. You will rule nothing but graves of ice!’

 

But Mogrom waved Eldor’s words away with a curt flick of a hand and sat back in her throne.

 

‘Orcon has told me what he wants for my help… the rule over the Chill Mountains and the dwarves. I will rule the elves, fairies and gnomes.’

 

‘He’s lying, Mogrom,’ Eldor replied, his voice like iron. ‘He will want it all and if you think I will stand by and let that happen, you really are a fool!’

 

He whirled away from the dais, the crystal on his staff glowing with sudden magic. A sphere of orange light surrounded him as he readied himself to battle his way out of the castle.

 

‘Orcon!’ Mogrom cried shrilly behind him.

 

At her cry a ragged tear suddenly opened in the air before him. Thick white mist spilled out of it and then a figure stepped through and Eldor came face to face with Orcon.

 

He was a tall creature, taller by a foot over Eldor and made entirely of a blue ice that moved like it was flesh. He had a cruel, thin mouth and the blackest of eyes, full of hate and they fixed on him.

 

‘You are mine, wizard!’ Orcon said in a voice that sounded like ice grating together.

 

He waved a hand at him and a terrible coldness suddenly wrapped itself around Eldor. It cast aside his own magic as if it was nothing but mist and the glow of his staff winked out. Eldor’s fingers began to freeze and his staff fell from his hand to clatter onto the floor.’

 

‘Meet your new master, wizard!’ Orcon said. ‘You will do as Mogrom bids!’

 

‘Never!’ Eldor hissed in pain. ‘You shall both fail in this!’

 

An evil smile crept across Orcon’s face and he waved a hand again. Eldor was spun around helplessly to face Mogrom.

 

‘Oh, I don’t think so, Eldor,’ she replied smugly and watched as Eldor suddenly stiffened and went still… frozen solid and alive.

 

She then looked up at the goblins who were edging forward, their yellow eyes wide at what they witnessed.

 

‘Did I not promise that Orcon would help us?’ she asked them. ‘Did I not promise that Eldor would be easily dealt with?’

 

At that the goblins gave a great cheer, shaking their swords and spears in the air. Mogrom let their cries and jeers go on for some moments, then held up a hand for silence.

 

‘Where are you, Craw?’ she asked as the noise faded quickly away.

 

‘Here, your majesty!’ Craw replied, pushing his way to the front. ‘What are your orders?’

 

‘Now that we have dealt with Eldor, we must conquer all hope in Lendor,’ Mogrom said and waved a hand at Eldor’s staff on the floor. ‘And I think we have just what is needed at hand.’

 

Craw grinned menacingly.

 

‘If they see we have Eldor’s staff, they will know they are doomed,’ he growled.

 

Mogrom chuckled wickedly.

 

‘My thoughts exactly, Craw,’ she agreed. ‘I think the dwarves should be dealt with first as King Brodon is the one most likely to cause trouble. Take a small force to Dwarf Gate and show him what we have, then demand his surrender for Eldor’s safety. I will also have Orcon give him a further taste of what lies in store if he doesn’t.’

 

‘Be warned, Mogrom,’ Orcon said. ‘The wizard’s staff carries a powerful magic. It could threaten us.’

 

‘Not without the wizard to wield it,’ Mogrom said dismissively. ‘But Craw here will take very good care of it… won’t you, Craw?’

 

‘Yes… yes, Mogrom!’ Craw stammered under her gaze, well aware of what happened to anyone who displeased her.

 

‘Better to kill the wizard now and take them his head!’ Orcon snapped threateningly.

 

But Mogrom shook her head.

 

‘No… I want him to see my conquest!’ she said coldly. ‘I have waited too long for this!’

 

Orcon fell silent, his expression dark and clearly unhappy with what was being planned.

 

‘You may go, Craw,’ Mogrom said. ‘Once the dwarves citadel is secure we can move on the elves… and then the gnome’s and fairies. We must make sure their magic cannot threaten us. I shall mobilise our goblin army for that purpose whilst you are gone.’

 

‘Yes, your majesty!’ Craw said smartly and bent to pick up Eldor’s staff.

 

‘And have Eldor moved to a shadowy corner of the hall,’ she ordered. ‘I want him out of my sight, but close enough so he can witness our march to triumph.’

 

* * *

 

Night had fallen about the castle and the snowy owl still circling in the air above. Moonwing gave a mournful hoot and began to wing his way north.