Brighten groaned again, opening his other eye. “When do you want me to do it, Kris? When I’m resting from class or in class? When do you think would be a good time to slink around the castle and look for secret weapons?”
Kris shrugged, grinning slyly. “I don’t know. I managed to find the time to involve my brother in this, so I figure you can find the time to go look through some tunnels.”
William looked at Erin. “What are you thinking, my lady?”
“She’s thinkin’ you need to quit sounding so lame.” Kris was having a grand time.
“I think we have to go and see,” Erin answered, then looked at Brighten.
“If you show me where the crypts are, I can check by myself. You don’t have to go down there with me.”
Brighten sighed. He was looking at Kris, seeing the light in her eyes. She was ready to jump all over him the moment he said he’d be fine with showing Erin so long as he didn’t have to go into them.
Another groan.
“I’m not gonna listen to her mouth for days on end because I sent you down there alone. We’ll go tomorrow night when we’re both done with our... Fuck, our jobs, I guess.”
Everyone in the room chuckled.
“The kid is growin’ up.” William walked over and tousled Brighten’s hair. He looked at Kris. “If he keeps training with magic, you’re gonna need to watch out, pipsqueak.”
“Please. If he’s anything like you, I don’t have to worry ‘bout nothin’.” She looked at Lucie. “I mean, this joker lost his sword, didn’t he?”
“Aye.” Lucie grinned wide. “Still ain’t got no sword, William.”
Brighten looked up at the big man. He was grinning broadly.
“Wait ‘til I get another sword and he gets a little magic. Both of you brats are gonna rue the day you spoke so carelessly. Tell ‘em, kid.”
Brighten groaned, closing his eyes. “I don’t wanna go down there!”
William sighed and shook his head. “Gonna be tough to have an ‘us versus them’ mentality with a sob story like this one.”
Kris winked at William. “Told you. You’re both softer than baby shit!”
William looked down at him. “You got to toughen up, kid. If you don’t, Riley’s gonna run right over you when you meet her.”
The Royal Guard stood before Rendal—five knights, all of them mages. Rendal had asked the Prefect about his Guard, coming to understand that they were more or less Sidnie’s Right Hands. Each had a command beneath them.
These five were the strongest.
For Rendal to prevail here, he had to vanquish these wannabe heroes first, then turn his attention to the Prefect’s advisors.
“Where is the Prefect?” the knight in the middle asked.
Rendal had sent word through Slidell that the leader wanted to see his Royal Guard. Now they all stood outside at one of the Guards’ training rooms, the Prefect having said he wished to see them in action.
“He couldn’t make it,” Rendal answered.
“And you are?”
“I’m... I guess you could say I’m the new boss around here.” Rendal smiled.
The knights looked at each other, their swords rattling slightly with their bodies’ movement.
The middle Guard turned back to Rendal. “You’re that merchant everyone’s been talking about. Where’s the Prefect?”
“He is...” Rendal shrugged. “I’ve misplaced him, but I’m here in his stead.”
The middle knight unsheathed his sword first, the other four immediately following suit.
The outdoor area was far from the prying eyes of anyone else. The Guard liked to practice in private. They now occupied a space with thick wooden logs standing upright which was used for sword practice. Other weapons of war were scattered throughout the area. Quivers with arrows sat in front of targets. A covered pavilion with three walls contained axes, swords, and shields.
Rendal began pacing back and forth in front of the knights.
“I thought about what to do with you five, you know? I gave it serious consideration.” He nodded, looking down at his feet as he walked. “I could use a group of men like you on my side, truth be told. Yet...the advisors are more important. I can get strength anywhere, but I need the leaders on board.”
Rendal stopped and turned around, heading back the other way. He could sense the knights’ apprehension growing, yet they’d heard about this merchant’s importance. They weren’t going to simply attack him.
At least not yet.
“So,” Rendal continued. “What do I do? Convince you all to join my cause or eliminate you?”
“This man is mad,” one of the knights said. “We need to find the Prefect.”
Rendal paid them no mind. “If I eliminate you I can use your death to turn the advisors, which is more important. Plus, none of you have Riley’s power. You might know magic, but your potential is simply...”
Rendal stopped and looked at the five knights.
“Your potential is lacking.”
His eyes flashed bright red as a devilish grin spread over his face.
“Do you wish to attack the Royal Guard, merchant?” the middle knight asked. The other four were spreading out, their own eyes turning red.
“No, of course not,” Rendal answered. “I wish to kill the Royal Guard.”
The arrows across the field sprang from their quivers and flew across the field toward the five knights.
The one on the right turned to face them, his left hand rising as he tried to force them back.
The other four moved forward, swords raised.
“Four against one seems a bit unfair.” Rendal raised his right hand, and the weapons beneath the pavilion pulled themselves from the walls on which they hung.
The weapons also raced across the distance.
The knights saw the danger now. They weren’t fighting a single man, but multitudes.
The knight facing the arrows couldn’t force them down. He flung flames at them, but it was too late. They were too close to burn away completely.
They flew through the flames, impaling the knight.
He let out a sharp groan as his body tensed, five arrows piercing his body.
He fell to the ground.
The knight on Rendal’s left launched himself forward. He slashed with his sword, but Rendal stepped back lithely.
The weapons were fifty feet away now, rushing at the remaining three guards who had turned to try to battle them.
Electricity ripped from Rendal’s left hand, bright strands of light that reached for the attacking knight’s sword. They grabbed the metal blade, rapidly tracing down it to the knight’s gloved hand.
The knight started shaking, unable to let go of the sword as the electricity gripped him.
Rendal grinned while he electrocuted the man.
The group of flying weapons slammed into the three knights still living.
No, they were definitely not as strong as Riley. They couldn’t face both Rendal and the fifteen or so swords, axes, and shields about to batter them.
They swung their own swords, ducking and dodging, fighting weapons whose owner controlled them with magic instead of his hands.
Rendal moved behind the fighting knights.
He wouldn’t make them suffer. He didn’t have time. He had to meet with the advisors momentarily.
Rendal lifted his right hand into the air and touched three separate places with his index finger, fireballs sprouting each time.
The fireballs grew in size, spinning in front of Rendal. His eyes were alight as the blades and axes slashed at the knights.
Riley wouldn’t have behaved like them. She would have focused only on eliminating the real threat: Rendal. Plus, her magic was much more powerful than these feeble heroes.
The fireballs shot forward.
Each struck its target, exploding across the designated knight. Fire raced over their bodies and screaming filled the air.
Then Rendal’s axes and swor
ds hit home too.
The Royal Guard, the Prefect’s protectors, lay on the ground, the strongest now eliminated.
The red in Rendal’s eyes faded.
Easy enough. Now to go let the advisors know what would be asked of them.
The advisors sat around a circular wooden table. There were ten of them, and they took up most of the table. Normally there would have been only one open chair, but now two remained.
They were for the Prefect and Rendal.
Lawrence Slidell walked into the room first, Rendal following.
Harold came last, taking a place against the wall.
The Prefect had called the meeting after the advisors had grown more and more concerned. At least, it appeared that the Prefect had called the meeting. In reality, Rendal pulled the strings.
“Hello,” the Prefect said as he took his seat.
Rendal waited, standing behind and to the left of Slidell.
This had been planned, of course.
“Hello, Prefect Slidell,” the group said almost as one.
A man on the right spoke up. Rendal knew his name, just as he knew everyone’s name in the room. This one was Terry.
“We were hoping this would be an audience with just you, Prefect.”
“I…know,” Slidell stammered. The man was little more than a shell at this point. “You…all need to…meet Rendal Hemmons.”
“We’ve heard of Rendal Hemmons, Your Grace.” Terry practically spat Rendal’s name. “We don’t want to speak to him. We want to speak to you.”
Rendal stepped to the chair that was waiting for him. “The Prefect would like you to meet me. Does that not matter?” He pulled the chair out slowly, his wounded side on display for everyone.
When he finally sat, the room was silent, all eyes on him.
“Rendal…speaks…for me,” Slidell managed to get out.
“This is lunacy!” a woman toward the far end of the table cried. Her name was Patricia. “This man is a charlatan, and we all know it. We’re not going to sit here and listen to him, are we?”
The table’s attention turned to her.
Rendal smiled. “Patricia, you should calm down. You don’t want your blood pressure to get high. It’s not good for your health.”
“My... My blood pressure?” the woman yelled back.
“Perhaps we can all talk reasonably for a moment?” Rendal looked around the rest of the table. “Tell me why it is you dislike me so much, and perhaps I can help assuage some of your fears?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Terry asked. He pointed at the Prefect. “Look at him. That’s not our leader. That’s not the man in charge of this kingdom. You’ve done something to him.”
Rendal turned his head to Slidell, and his eyes narrowed as he studied the man. “Why, you may be right. He does look different than when I first showed up. He looks…slower, somehow.”
“He mocks us!” Patricia shouted. “In our own meeting quarters, he mocks us!”
“Harold,” Rendal called, still feigning concern. “Does this man look different to you?”
“Yes, sir. Very different.”
“I won’t stand for this!” a third person shouted across the table. His chair flew back as he rose to his feet. “We’re going to call for this charlatan’s death immediately!”
Rendal’s eyes flashed red as he turned to the man. “If you won’t stand for it, then please sit.”
A cracking sound rang through the room. The man let out an agonizing scream and hit the floor with a thud.
His yelling flooded across the room, almost unending.
“Harold,” Rendal said, the red in his eyes fading, “would you mind removing Mr. Yensen from the room? He seems to be in serious pain.”
“Certainly, sir,” Harold answered, already striding across the room. He grabbed the man by the arms and slid him across the floor, the man shouting and begging the whole way.
Rendal smiled at the people who remained seated. “I just thought it was ironic, ya know? He said ‘I won’t stand,’ but then he stood up. Isn’t that kind of silly?”
The table stared at him, all of their eyes wide. A few people’s mouths hung open, unable to close.
“Sorry.” Rendal shook his head. “What were we speaking about again? You all didn’t want to talk to me?”
Patricia’s eyes lit red, and Rendal smiled. “Did you not like my demonstration with Mr. Yensen?”
Rendal stood. His eyes were still their normal color. “Before you do something you may regret, we should talk first. I think it’ll be in everyone’s best interests if we do.”
His eyes glowed red as he glanced at her.
“But if you’d rather I crack every bone in your body, then have Harold drag you out of the room, that’s fine too. Everything is up to you, dearest ones.”
Patricia remained standing, her eyes not fading to their original color.
“Patricia,” someone whispered, “sit down. Hear him out.” They weren’t looking at the woman as they spoke. They were staring at the blood streaks Mr. Yensen had left as Harold pulled him across the floor.
Patricia’s eyes faded. She didn’t sit, but Rendal didn’t care. He let his eyes die down and then took his seat. “Now, let’s try to talk like adults, shall we?”
He looked at Slidell. The man stared forward endlessly, a short string of drool hanging from his lower lip.
“He’s so messy sometimes!” Rendal laughed, sounding as if he were discussing a young child instead of an adult.
He turned back to the table. “Some of you can use magic. Some of you can’t. It doesn’t matter. If Patricia down there, or any of the rest of you wants to challenge me, be my guest. You’ll end up in worse shape than Mr. Yensen.”
Rendal leaned back in his chair, grimacing as he did. “I’d hoped that my wound would help persuade you all that New Perth’s threat is real. I’d hoped that I could perhaps...”
Harold walked in, and Rendal looked at him.
“Harold, what is it that I’d hoped to do with this group? I’m having a tough time remembering the word.”
“You were hoping to fool them, sir.”
“Ah!” Rendal exclaimed in mock surprise. “That’s right! I wanted to fool you all into believing that we really had spies and war was coming. But then I showed up and... Well, look at him.” He turned to Slidell. “The Prefect isn’t going to be much help.”
Rendal shook his head as if disappointed.
“Anyway, I figure the direct approach is always best, so let me be direct. I run this kingdom now. Your Royal Guard lies dead on their training ground, all five of them killed by my hand. The men beneath them will certainly be no match if they wish to test me. My ten ships outside? There are no goods to sell on them. Instead, I brought an army with me. You’ve probably already seen them. They haven’t taken complete control yet, because it’s not necessary...”
Rendal grew quiet for a moment.
He stared at them without mercy. “Unless you make it necessary. Then all of you will suffer, and the kingdom will suffer more. I don’t want that, do I, Harold?”
“No, sir. Not at all,” Harold answered dutifully.
“Exactly. We should work as a team—you, me, the Prefect here. That’s the only way it’s going to end well for all of us, you understand?” Rendal looked behind his chair at Harold. “Will you bring the map, please?”
Harold said nothing but hustled over. He rolled out a large scroll, showing the continent in totality.
On one side, Sidnie was marked. On the other, New Perth.
“Before we get started in earnest,” Rendal said, “Are there any questions so far?”
Everyone around the table looked far too shocked to speak.
“Good!” Rendal clapped, smiling broadly. “Let’s look at the map, then. Now, as you can see, we’re here. And ‘they’ are there.”
Rendal looked around the table, his face grave. “Make no mistake, ladies and gentlemen: we are at war. Perhaps you didn�
�t want it. Perhaps you don’t want it. That doesn’t matter anymore, because it’s about to begin. New Perth does have spies here.”
“Who?” a woman to his left said.
“I’m sure you all know where I got this wound—the demonstration with the spy. Well, the supposed spy was faked, but the man who cut my side open was not. He’s New Perth’s Right Hand, and while he’s the first, he won’t be the last. More will come.”
“For you, though,” Terry interjected. “Not for us. Not for Sidnie.”
Rendal smiled. “What’s the difference? I’ve taken it upon myself to begin preparing us. That’s what you’ve seen with our military and our new magic school.”
“Our?” Patricia called from the other side of the table.
The mage sighed. “I feel like I’m not getting through to you. There is no you and me. There is only our. Harold, will you tell them?”
“Certainly, sir.” Harold remained standing slightly back from the table. “If you all don’t support Mr. Hemmons, he’s going to kill you. Perhaps publicly. He is growing slightly perturbed with your inability to understand this, as am I.”
“Thank you, Harold.” Rendal addressed the table again. “Now, are there any questions about that? If so, please ask them now, because we have important things to discuss.”
“What if we want out?” Patricia asked. She was clearly nervous, her fingers tapping on the table. “If we don’t want to oppose you but we don’t want to be advisors anymore? We just want to leave, to let you do as you will with this place, but to not include us?”
“Hmmm.” Rendal’s brow scrunched, and he put his hand to his chin. “You mean... Like, we all go our separate ways? That’s what you’re talking about?”
Patricia nodded. “Yes. Exactly. Separate ways.”
“Hmmm... Harold, what do you think?”
Harold grinned. “Well, on the face of it, it seems like a great idea.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” Rendal stood. “Who would like to leave? Just go their separate way, and leave me to rule the kingdom…with the Prefect of course?”
Four hands rose.
“Any others?” the mage asked.
Hand of Justice Boxed Set (Books 1 - 4): The Dark Mage, Chasing Magic, Magic Rising, Magic Unchained Page 42
