Under the Mountain: Book Two of the Hawkridge Chronicles

Under the Mountain

The Hawkridge Chronicles: Book Two

Julian Kindred

Copyright 2015 Julian Kindred

Published on Smashwords

Formatted by eBooksMade4You

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

First Edition License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Works by Julian Kindred

The Hawkridge Chronicles

Hawkridge

Under the Mountain

Outlaws of the Golden Plains (Coming Soon)

Skies of Grey

Part 1: The Place in the Mist

Part 2: Purgatory

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Contents

Acknowledgment

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

A Call to Action

About the Author

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Acknowledgements

I’m always terrible at these. There is always so much that goes into putting a book together, but a special thanks must go to my family for their support, encouragement, and putting up with my odd requests and eccentricities while I put this work together. Another thank you must be given to Jacob Drake for his proof reading and formatting services. I often feel that I’m generationally challenged—don’t ask me to do anything with Twitter, I’ve just barely figured out Facebook. It makes the self-publishing process somewhat daunting, and I could not have put followed up Hawkridge with Under the Mountain as quickly as I have without all of the help given by those mentioned here.

Thank you.

Dedicated to my grandfather,

who has left us a legacy more precious than gold.

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Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.

—John Wayne

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CHAPTER ONE

Colt Hawkridge looked out toward the oncoming storm and hoped he wasn’t about to get himself and his friends killed. Downpour, his dark draft horse with the furriest white fetlocks of any beast alive, tossed his head at the faint scent of rain carried on the western wind. At eighteen hands, the horse’s withers were even with the top of Colt’s head, and atop the enormous beast he had a spectacular view of the planes and forests spread out between him and the town of Longbranch. And the angry grey clouds roiling on the western horizon.

The wind tugged at his new drakehide jerkin and rancher’s hat, making him squint his crystalline blue eyes as it brushed over his rugged face. It was almost as if the wind were pushing him towards the Feral East and up the spine of mountains he was named for. Somewhere below those mountains was Fort Hawkridge, swallowed up by a landslide almost as soon as Colt’s grandfather had raised it. Some said the spirit of the mountains had taken the fort on account of having its name stolen.

Colt didn’t buy into that nonsense. Few people had explored east of Hawkridge, but those folks who came back all agreed that landquakes were common on the other side. Besides, he thought, resting his hand on the pommel of the orewood sword sheathed at his side, if anyone round these parts knew about spirits, it was him.

So dramatic, Aephyr oohed beside him, stepping into his line of sight from nowhere. She was a hand shorter than him, curved in ways no human woman could match. Her heavy breasts, dangerously narrow waist, and dramatically flared hips were completely bared to the elements. Naked flesh shone copper in the dying afternoon light, the sheen identical to the sword Colt bore at his side. If you stand there long enough, maybe a wandering artist will come by and capture it in a painting.

It had been three moons since Colt had found her sword in a cave hidden behind a waterfall, and her casual nudity no longer bothered him the way it once had. At least until she made an effort. He wasn’t sure he could ever get used to a woman so brazenly sexual.

Ain’t broodin’, Colt replied, tugging Downpour’s reigns so that the shire horse turned to return down the path they’d come, back towards their companions. Just thinkin’.

Thinking like that, you’ll need to be careful you don’t injure your brain. Aephyr skipped alongside the horse, easily keeping pace. If the rough terrain under her bare feet bothered her, she showed no sign of it beneath her mischievous grin. She paused as an antlered rabbit hopped out from behind a boulder to sniff at the air. Ooh, jackalope. Their antlers are supposed to make good healing potions.

Storm’s gonna be trouble, he said without looking at her or the jackalope. Might be best we make early camp. ‘Less you wanna tell me how much farther ‘til we reach this cave of yours.

"And ruin the surprise? Aephyr asked, skipping over a particularly large boulder and sending her dark locks flying behind her.

I prefer certainty.

You won’t get any. Aephyr pirouetted out of his vision and reappeared on his left, dancing through the tall grass along the narrow trail. The only certainty in life is change. For someone who claims to crave adventure, you don’t seem to have a great respect for facing the unknown.

Colt scowled at her. Don’t see the point in makin’ things more difficult than they have to be’s all.

Aephyr stopped dancing and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, lips puckering into a sensual pout. Sourpuss.

Accordin’ to you, there’s treasure in that fort, he said. I aim to be alive to spend my share of it. Gold comes before glory.

The promise of wealth was almost enough to make him forget the other reason they were there. That somewhere amongst that treasure was the key to stopping the forest goblin warlocks to the west of town from using their strange plague magic. Longbranch wasn’t in trouble yet, mostly because the forest goblins didn’t seem to know Sheriff Maer was dead. But it was only a matter of time before they got bold enough to move up from attacking farms and took a shot at the town.

What’s the point of being alive if you’re not living? she asked, cocking her hip.

He kept riding until she was out of his of sight. The sound of her soft footfalls didn’t resume. Colt knew she wouldn’t go far. So long as he had her sword, he was stuck with her. And its enchantment was too useful to discard. For that matter, so was Aephyr. Without her, he’d never have survived the goblin raiders that had attacked Drake Iron Ranch three moons back, let alone learned that the lost Fort Hawkridge was still intact, more or less. And full of treasure.

Why there was supposedly a mountain of wealth hidden in the lost fort, Aephyr wasn't saying. Colt reckoned it didn’t much matter. If anyone had a legitimate claim to it, he did. Anyone who wanted to raise a fuss had had three generations to get it themselves. If he and his friends did all the work digging it up out of the mountain and hauling it down, the Mother of All it was theirs and carrion take anyone who said otherwise. ‘Especially if their efforts saw to the goblin problem.

The wind picked up, bringing with it the scent of rain, though the clouds seemed a ways of yet. Downpour’s ears twitched and he nickered his discontent. Colt ran his hand over the stallion’s neck and made hushing noises. It was always strange to him the strange things that calmed massive beasts like horses and drakes. Downpour was far from perfectly calm, but he was reassured. It would do until they made camp.

Rounding a large stone outcropping, he spotted his party a quarter of a league down the mountain. He caught himself, and mentally readjusted his estimate to half a league. Going uphill and winding every which way made for slow travel, even on horseback, and two of their party were on foot.

The Shepherd twins were tall and willowy, easily a full hand taller than Colt—nineteen hands each at least—but otherwise they looked nothing alike, save for their dress. They were both garbed in mourning cloaks and carried shepherd’s crooks as tall as they were. A shaggy grey and white sheep dog trotted at their heels.

Abigail Shepherd was the only girl Colt knew who was taller than he. Her bright gold hair was straight like her mother’s had been and loosely pulled behind her head, hidden in the hood of her cloak. A smattering of freckles dusted her tanned, pixie-like face, making her green eyes seem all the worldlier. Especially with the weight of sadness sinking in their depths. Zacharias on the other hand had dark, curly hair with a ruddy face and strong jaw inherited from his father. Colt thought his eyes were green too, but if they were, they were several hues darker.

Colt had only met their parents a couple times. Their mother had died ten winters back, but they’d lost their father only a short while back, in the goblin raid that had earned Colt his newfound wealth and sword. Which was why the pair kept turning to stare at the other girl in their band.

Technically Orchid wasn’t riding a horse, but she insisted Raspberry the mule be given all the same respect as the other mounts. Colt reckoned it was on account of Raspberry being a hybrid like her. Orchid’s mother had been kept a slave by cave goblins and far as Colt knew, Orchid had been forced upon her mother some point during her captivity.

Easily the shortest member of their party, she was barely chest high on Colt and wore a cloak that looked like it had been sewn of rags. It probably had been. He’d given her money enough for the new clothes she wore beneath it, but she’d never bothered replacing the brown and grey cloak. Maybe because she’d spent so much on the fancy shoes she was wearing or the others she’d packed lovingly in her saddlebags. What she intended to do with them in the mountains, he had no idea.

The slight purple sheen playing on her glossy black hair had come out only after a thorough washing, and vanished again as the sunlight was swallowed by the approaching clouds, making her purple hued skin seem darker. Not nearly so purple as a full-blooded cave goblin, three moons on the surface had tanned her once pale skin. Where before a body might mistake her purple tinge for a trick of the light on account of her paleness, now there was no denying the color of her skin any more than the point of her ears.

Colt debated for a moment whether or not to ride down to them, but there wasn't much point in making Downpour walk down there only to turn him around to go back up. They’d need to find shelter soon and that storm looked to be building speed. If that were so, he wanted his horse as fresh as he could get him.

Would really appreciate knowin’ where that cave is ‘bout now, Colt said to the empty air and felt Aephyr’s weight settle onto the saddle behind him. Her breasts pressed into his back, below his shoulder blades, soft and full and more distracting than he cared to admit.

Her arms twined round his torso and he stiffened upright in his saddle as she whispered in his ear. I think I prefer to watch you squirm like this.

Colt shook himself free of her, grateful for the distance between himself and his companions. The Shepherd twins didn’t know about Aephyr. Only whoever held her sword could see her, and Colt didn’t see the need to let word spread too far about his sword. Most folk in Longbranch knew, or at least suspected, he’d found a magic sword in the Hawkridge Mountains. They didn’t need to know it spoke to him.

Ain’t I proved myself to you enough? He stroked Downpour’s neck again as the horse’s ears perked back, as if trying to listen in on his conversation.

Three moons ago, certainly, she purred, seemingly not in the least bothered by his dismissal. But you’re never going to stop proving yourself, Colt. There will always be another mountain to climb, another lost fort or ghost town to explore.

And you don’t want me to live long enough to make it to them other adventures?

He could feel her scowling at his back. Very well, but I’ll not let you spoil my fun. There are three caves farther up. One is shallow, one plunges into the mountain’s depths and the last will take you to Fort Hawkridge.

Of course, he couldn’t have found a sword that made his problems go away. No, he had to find the only magic sword in the world that liked to make more for him. Can’t you just tell me like a normal guide?

Aephyr burst into a full blown laugh. I’m not a guide, young Colt. An instructor, perhaps, but never a guide. You’re the one blazing this path; I’m simply along for the ride.

Colt mulled that over for a moment. Where are the caves?

* * *

A short time later the group joined him by the outcropping.

Colt, Anthony called as he drew close on his champaign paint mare, Lacewing. I’ve read about clouds like those. This storm’s going to be big. Think we should head back to town and wait it out?

Though taller than Orchid, Anthony Maer’s frailty made him seem smaller, even mounted atop a proper horse. His black three-tailed coat and tri-point nautical hat looked as out of place on the mountainside as the saddlebag full of books bulging at Lacewing’s side. A winter younger than Colt, Anthony’s face had aged since the raid that claimed his own uncle’s life along with the twin’s father. Dark shadows hung beneath his eyes and a vaguely butterfly shaped rash had spread over his face, wings sweeping under shadows as if they might try to beat them away. At least his skin had lost the sickly pallor it had held when Colt had first met him.

You holdin’ up all right? Colt asked.

Anthony frowned at him. I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much. Please endeavor not to treat me as if I’m made of porcelain. The lupus hasn’t killed me yet, and I don’t think it means to today. Did you hear what I said about those thunder clouds?

’Course he heard, Orchid said, gripping the pommel of her saddle like it was the only thing holding her to the back of her mule. Ain’t deaf, is he?

Anthony pursed his lips but otherwise ignored her, while she in turn ignored the glares of the Shepherd twins. It seemed to Colt that any chance they had to give her mean looks, they took. Maybe hiring the pair to look after their mounts while they explored the caves below hunting for Fort Hawkridge had been a mistake. As much a mistake as turning back would be right then.

The twins could be trouble, Aephyr said at Colt’s side, unseen and unheard by the rest of the party. It might be best if you don’t leave them alone with Orchid.

Colt shook his head, as much at the idea that he’d be stupid enough to put Orchid with the Shepherds on their own as at Anthony’s suggestion. No way we’d make it back before the storm hit.

Worse to get caught in it on the mountain, Abigail said. The sheep dog leaned against her shin and let out a little whimper.

There’s three caves up ahead, Colt replied. Don’t know which is which, but I know their locations. One’s too shallow for us to all take shelter in, but the other two should do. One of them leads down to Fort Hawkridge.

And the other? Orchid asked, narrowing her eyes.

Colt shrugged. Down, into the caves ‘neath the mountain.

Cave goblins. Zacharias spat the word like a curse.

Ain’t seen any sign of ‘em since the raid, Colt said. Either way, we got a two in three chance of finding shelter. We hit the shallow one, might be we can get to one of the other two before the storm hits. And we might end up with the cave we was lookin’ for anyhow.

How do you know about these caves? Abigail asked. I mean, great that they’re there, but can’t you remember which is which?

Only learned they were there, Colt said. Afraid that’s the extent of it. Was hopin’ y’all might be able to give some thought.

’Fraid we don’t know too much ‘bout these parts, Zacharias said. We kept our flock west of Longbranch. Nobody wants to come anywhere near these mountains.

Then why ya here? Orchid asked.

Zacharias fixed her with a haughty glare from within the folds of his hood and tightened his grip on his shepherd’s crook. For a silver penny a day to watch after three animals, y’all can spend as much time as y’all want lookin’ for your pretend fort.

Zacharias, Abigail admonished, tossing an apologetic look at Colt.

No worries, he replied. I imagine I look a might bit crazy to most in town. But whether y’all believe the fort’s still there or not, we need to figure out which cave we’re goin’ for. Orchid, Anthony. Thoughts?

Orchid shook her head. Not a lotta chances to stray from the horde. Never saw no fort down there. Never seen so much wood ‘til I got up here.

Colt nodded in understanding. How strange it must be seeing entire buildings made of wood after living her whole life underground. If she’d seen Fort Hawkridge, he had no doubt she’d remember it.

What about this area? he asked. Any of it familiar?

It all look’s different from this side. Didn’t think the surface was so…wide, when I was down there.

I think we’re best going for whichever one is farthest East, Anthony said in a rush.

Colt had to hold back a grin. Boy loved knowledge, anything he read in a book he took as truth and took every opportunity to share. It was almost a shame he wasn't a woman, with his passion for knowledge and sickness messing with his magic