Tartarus Beckons Read online

  The ACCIDENTAL ARCHMAGE Series

  Book Six

  TARTARUS BECKONS

  The Castration of the Titan Ouranus by his son Kronus

  EDMUND A.M. BATARA

  June 2019

  ASIN: B07Q42NG2M

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, interactions, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously unless otherwise indicated. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All Rights Reserved. 2019.

  To my family: My wife, Julette-Marie, and my daughters, Amina Francesca, Katrina Fae, and Ana Bettina –for all the support and joy you have given me.

  To my sisters –For being so supportive.

  To my readers: Kindle readers of the series and those at the website where the first drafts of this continuing story were posted– for the encouragement and constructive feedback.

  CREDITS/ATTRIBUTIONS

  Cover Image under license from https://thebookdesigner.com. All other design elements by the author.

  Title Page image: Painting by Giorgio Vasari (1511-1578) and Cristofano Gherardi (1508-1556) – The Mutilation of Uranus by Saturn (Cronos). Public domain image.

  End chapter image – Nordic magical compass. Licensed from Shutterstock.com

  Paragraph break image – Public use. From Piaxabay.com, by clkerfreevectorimages.

  Spider art design (The Ring) – Public domain. Pre-Columbian drawing of a spider from the Spiro Mound Archaeological Site by an unknown Caddoan artist.

  Maps – created by the writer with the use of Inkarnate software under a commercial license. All rights reserved.

  Copy Editor: Annie Jenkinson at www.just-copyeditors.com

  Contents

  Introduction to the Series

  Introduction to Book Six

  Jorund's Map of Skaney

  PROLOGUE: Prelude to War

  Chapter One Maljen

  Chapter Two Blue Mountain

  Chapter Three Okeanos

  Chapter Four Sasabonsams and Manticores

  Chapter Five Demon Hunter

  Chapter Six Finding the Dokkalfr

  Map of the Dokkalfr Mage

  Chapter Seven A Roll of the Dice

  Chapter Eight Astrid

  Chapter Nine Orange is the Color of Magic

  Chapter Ten Tricked

  Chapter Eleven YOLO

  Chapter Twelve Ymir's Domain, Ymir's Rules

  Habrok's Map of Solens Tårn

  Chapter Thirteen Escaping Solens Tårn

  Chapter Fourteen Spider Realm

  Chapter Fifteen Asag

  Chapter Sixteen Parole Officer

  Chapter Seventeen A Hard Choice

  Chapter Eighteen Introducing a Demon

  Chapter Nineteen Great House Anari

  Chapter Twenty The Judgment of a Lesser House

  Chapter Twenty-One Disturbing an Old Man

  Chapter Twenty-Two Transformations

  Epilogue The Savior of the Mortal and the Divine

  Glossary of Notes and Definitions by Chapter

  About the Author

  Published Books

  Short Story: The Ring

  Short Story: Mad Magus

  A Writer's Request

  Introduction to the Series

  Incidents of people disappearing in plain sight are well-known in recorded history. One of the earliest known accounts was in the 1700’s. The most recent disappearance was in 2007. Various theories have been advanced to explain these phenomena; this story is not such a theory.

  Lore notes and definitions appear at the end of the book, grouped by chapter. There are mythological terms and names used in the story as well as words which might not be familiar to most readers. Footnotes are not appropriate for eBook formatting and I believe footnotes are more distracting. Story immersion may also suffer if the reader is left to search by himself the meaning of the terms and names used. As some terms from the other books again appear, the definitions are repeated in the lore notes.

  Please note that the present book is not a stand-alone tale; it is part of a continuing epic, with characters, events, and lore all related to each other in some way. A simple conversation in Book One will have consequences in Book Five, and so it goes. Events and entities mentioned in the companion book of the series, Stories of Adar: Tales from the Abyss, are incorporated in the main story. The reason why the companion book came out was to tell the stories of important characters as the main story focuses on the experiences and tribulations of one Tyler West. I might come out with another book dealing with the unique backgrounds of the Archmage companions.

  A two-part Omnibus edition is planned, covering all seven books but with the stories arranged in a chronological manner for a comprehensive presentation of the epic. This arrangement will result in the stories of the companion book being separated and placed in the appropriate section of the epic. Additions to the Omnibus edition will be made as the epic continues.

  The story is told from the main character’s perspective. His own thoughts are italicized. His conversations with Hal, an entity introduced in Book One, as well as telepathic discussions with other characters, are italicized but with quotation marks.

  Enjoy the journey.

  The Writer.

  Introduction to Book Six

  Hello.

  Our tale now comes at a point where the plans of Loki come to light, emerging from the dark corners where he hatched such convoluted schemes, though many readers would by now be asking the question if the eponymous Master of Trickery is his own man in the scheme of things. In Book Six, our more enlightened and, hopefully, better-prepared protagonist finds himself doing the quest he promised the Vanir god Freyr. But as always, he finds that matters are not as simple as they seem.

  As with any tale, or in real life for that matter, inconvenient twists abound and unfortunate surprises lay in wait for the unwary. Suffice it to say that our half-baked First Mage now finds himself more personally involved in the unfolding titanic struggle. Many of the events and conflicts developing in other parts of the world are indirectly referred to within the story itself. It is indeed a titanic struggle involving the old status quo, those who want to be rulers again, and other powerful figures of myth and legend. There are, of course, solitary entities with ambitions of their own.

  I did hope to have some sort of closure in Book 6, but it appears it can’t be done.

  There’s still the land of Kobu the exile, other empires, the remnants of the Romans, the dwarven kingdoms, the Alfar, the tribal Barbarian Lands with its focus on shamanistic magic, the non-human civilizations of Banna, the dying Elder, new beings and characters, the individual stories of the companions themselves and all the problems, schemes and headaches they bring our very human main protagonist. And what is listed is but part of the colorful elements, complex relationships, and numerous vested interests which make up the world of Adar.

  Tyler might be doing a quest or solving a problem, but it doesn’t mean the world stops until he finishes. Loki and the Titans are but part of the tumultuous world our mage is trying to bring some sense of order, or at least prevent from being destroyed by its inhabitants. It’s a tall order for one knowledge-challenged and magically-hobbled mage. Whether he’ll find a solution is a question which only the future would show. The mage might very well end up destroying everything himself. I did say before that in Adar, like in the real world, things are never what they initially appea
r to be. Nor is the line between good and evil neatly delineated.

  Readers might be surprised at the difference in word count among the volumes, but the approach is adopted for a reason. Books of the series end at sections where continuing the saga from such points would lead to an inconveniently sized tome.

  Finally, as a writer, I will continue to let the story guide me where it wants to go, and the fantasy epic will conclude when the tale deems itself at an end.

  Enjoy. Thanks for reading.

  The Writer.

  June 2019.

  Jorund's Map of Skaney

  PROLOGUE:

  Prelude to War

  Otr glanced at his battle line. Twenty thousand heavily armored and armed heavy infantry. All positioned on the rocky outcrops of the slopes of the mountains flanking the secret pass to their main stronghold in the Western Dvergar Mountains. Linked and embedded tall shields protected infantry ranks. At their back were dwarven crossbowmen, armed with an improved version of the Zhong repeater crossbow. Further up were ballistae and catapults. Their mages were distributed all along the line.

  What a vacation, he thought. You come to visit your father, and you end up in another battle. I should have brought that Dvalin fellow and his lads along, they didn’t seem to have enough fun back in Hedmark. Or even some of the lads back home in the Northern Dvergar Range. Nah. I don’t think the Elders would have allowed it. Jotnar activity seem to be increasing.

  Otr glanced at the ranks of warriors preparing for battle. Most were rubbing their shields and armor with a mixture of clay and vinegar, magically bonded together. Even spears and pikes got the same treatment. On the vast desolate plain below, the southern edges of the Plain of Fire, Otr could see Sutr’s advance legions moving into position.

  We might have a higher tolerance to fire than other races, but it doesn’t mean we’re immune to it. On the bright side, the fire jotunn’s minions are also definitely killable by fire. Lots of it though.

  The dwarven lord was curious about the big shapes he had seen ponderously moving forward from the far side of the vast plain. Such huge monsters have never been seen before and he naturally wanted to know more about them, but the distance was too great for him to pick out details. He walked to the ballistae commander standing a hundred feet away and gave out helpful comments to the preparing dwarves as he walked along the lines of defenders.

  “Quickly now, you bunch of lily-livered pansies! At this rate, we should be inviting those blasted offsprings of Sutr to dinner instead! You call that preparing? I’ll get better results from dead drunk, half-blind, lame, and witless humans! Move your lazy, fat, and heavy asses! Are you sons of the mountains?” he shouted.

  A rumbling roar from thousands of voices greeted his words. Battle drums sounded.

  “Good! For a moment, I thought I was fighting with the svartalfar!”

  Noisy laughter greeted his words. Otr reached the detachment leader.

  “How’s it going, Nabbi?” Otr asked.

  “We’re still bringing up ammunition, my Prince, though I see big ones at the rear of our enemies. I can’t say I know what they are.”

  “I saw them too. Don’t mind them. The fire jotnar would be idiots to use them in the coming battle. They’re going to be employed when they’ve forced the gate. Right now, those flying snakes are the ones which worry me,” replied Otr.

  “Some look familiar, the usual crop of fire drakes. Others are new,” observed Nabbi.

  “Nothing that tunneling stones won’t cure,” snorted Otr.

  “It does appear they brought a lot of their forces to the coming merriment,” commented the other warrior idly. “I estimate about 40,000 now on the field, with more coming in.”

  “More to kill, brother. Though the scouts did report the land of fire is indeed on the move. The battle won’t be today or even tomorrow. They’ll gather their scattered hosts first before they attack,” grinned Otr. “That gives me time for some drinking tonight.”

  Then he thoughtfully looked at the enemy gathering on the great plain.

  “I never thought I’d be happy to see normal enemies, even in those numbers. There’s something abominable about fighting swift undead who fight and think like the living. That Hedmark excursion was bizarre, to say the least,” said Otr.

  “I did hear about that, my Prince. Strange enemies, indeed. Good thing we didn’t lose too many of the lads, and I hope that kind of undead don’t show up in these parts. About our present playmates, the warning about the jotunn lords had already been sent to the various dvergar realms. But I heard most are already fighting either Sutr or Ymir’s forces,” mentioned his companion.

  Otr grinned. “It’s going to be the worst and biggest crock of draken shit, Nabbi. And I am not talking about that cursed Fafnir either. The good news is we’re in the front seats! Imagine that!”

  The dokkalfr mage stood among his dead and dying brethren. The attack had been unexpected. They didn’t foresee that the jotnar would know about this particular entrance. The sudden impact of several magical offensive spells laid low most of the guard detachment, and the freezing spell which followed either immobilized the surviving defenders or made it difficult to move.

  The ensuing swift onslaught of four-legged and fanged terrors left no doubt as to the eventual fate of the dokkalfr outpost. Only the wounded mage remained, his magical barrier reduced almost to its breaking point. The small space before him quickly filled up with the deadly marauders. The mage raised his staff and grimly smiled.

  It’s going to cost them, the thought ran through his mind as he grasped the weapon with two hands and violently slammed it on the ground with all his remaining strength, breaking it in two.

  A whirlwind of flames erupted from the broken staff, savagely burning everything in the small space in an instant, reducing everything to piles of ash.

  More jotnar streamed into the opening and quickly fanned out, moving deeper into the Dokkalfr Mountains.

  The mercenary stumbled through the thick jungle undergrowth. A few hours before, he had been with his comrades at the large earthen fort on the borders of the Cahokian Dependency, a vassal state of Kemet.

  His company was left to reinforce the fort’s complement because of disturbing news about a rebellion in the kingdom. But they didn’t worry too much about it. They were stationed on the border, far from any conflict. Even if the rumors were true, it was but an internal matter for the Dependency. The winner will bow to Kemet after the dust had settled.

  The dawn assault came suddenly. Frightening man-spiders came out of the ground inside the fort and swiftly silenced the guards. What followed was a massacre in some of the barracks. Sleepy men were torn apart as they came out of the fort’s structures.

  Then the gates of the stronghold were opened and the horse-mounted rebels swooped in, arrayed in the distinctive Cahokian method of a rider and a javelin-armed warrior in medium armor riding together. It gave the combination unparalleled mobility and attack power – the shield of the passenger protected the bow-armed rider and gave the option for the warrior to either dismount and engage a weakened enemy or continue with the harassing attacks. The horse itself was protected by cloth-and-metal armor designed to absorb or deflect arrows.

  This time, the co-riders dismounted and continued what the loathsome man-spiders started. The mercenary was lucky enough to have his bunk at the end of their quarters and after he saw what was happening, opted to use the window instead. Clambering down the wooden palisade, he was spotted by an enemy rider. He ran, ditching whatever armor he was able to put on. Speed was key, and his sword was enough.

  He gave thanks to his gods as he reached the forest, but continued running, the torrent of sweat now accompanied by noisy wheezing. The warrior was out of breath and tired beyond the limits of his endurance. Long minutes passed. He looked back; sword tightly gripped in his right hand. No sign of pursuit. He slumped his weary body back against a large tree. A few minutes to rest, his mind and exhausted muscles in
sisted.

  High above him, thick cobwebs were dropping on the weary warrior.

  The small pass facing north was one of the Dual Monarchy’s openings towards the mountains bordering Muspelheim, the land of fire. Dwarven realms could be found under the vast mountain range and trading parties would sometimes venture forth to visit designated points earmarked for such profitable expeditions.

  Lately, two such trading caravans had returned empty-handed, to the disappointment of the border guards who had become accustomed to largesse from the happy merchants. Dwarven guards had told the traders that the realms are closed for now because of some disturbance coming from the Plain of Fire.

  Inside the fortified settlement, the night shift was already doing the rounds, lighting the torches around the small outpost. For a small fortification, one would have thought the garrison to be commensurate to its size. But the stone wall enclosing the compound hid the better part of a thousand fighting men, two hundred cavalry, and twenty war chariots. The Empire knew well the benefits of trade with the dwarven realm and the peaceful co-existence that came with it. The army was more to protect the merchants than the border. And the Dual Monarchy had assiduously avoided establishing larger forts on the lands facing the Western Dvergar Mountains lest the action be interpreted as a prelude to war. That was the last thing the rulers of the Empire wanted – the dwarven realms provided a much-needed buffer against incursions from Sutr’s domain. The Empire already had enough on its hands dealing with the attacks from the Void Lands.

  One of the two guards on top of one of the towers idly noticed that only half of the torches of the fort had been lit. He nudged his companion and pointed out the strange occurrence. As they watched, they saw a warrior come out from one of the rooms and walk towards the parapet. In the growing gloom, the pair saw clouds of mist appear at the back of the unsuspecting man, solidify, and pounce on him. One of the forms clearly had a scrawny hand over the warrior’s mouth. The stupefied duo looked at each other. Then one rushed to the large gong and started furiously beating it, ringing the loud alarm throughout the fort. Men within the enclosed field halted and looked up at the source of the loud noise.