A Prince's Errand

by Dan Zangari

  “You shouldn’t be so arrogant,” Kaescis growled.

  “Arrogance implies that I lack a surety. And I don’t.” Solidin lunged at Kaescis, weapons ready.

  Kaescis slashed his blade before the elf was within dagger’s reach, but Solidin tumbled forward, evading. Kaescis recovered as Solidin rolled up within close-quarters, too close to attack with the massive Ko’delish blade. Well, there was one disadvantage to it.

  Kaescis leapt backward but Solidin lunged. The elf struck repeatedly at the joint between Kaescis’s breastplate and pauldron. The dagger nicked the joint of the armor; it wasn’t as thick as the other pieces, so it had less impact strength.

  Damn him… Kaescis growled, dropping his Ko’delish blade. It misted into smoke at his mental command. He deliberately fell backward, grabbing Solidin. Kaescis trapped one of the elf’s arms, preventing further attacks from one of the daggers. His disintegrating damage shield pricked Solidin’s barsion at each point of contact. Kaescis grabbed the vile elf’s head, attempting to break through the barsion. Solidin, however, continued striking with his free dagger. How many hits was that? At least twenty. Damn, this elf is fast!

  Kaescis threw himself and Solidin sideways, trapping the elf’s other dagger. Solidin tried to break free, but it was a futile attempt. Kaescis had him pinned.

  A sharp incantation left Kaescis’s lips, re-summoning his blade. It would appear in his hand gripping the elf’s head. The Ko’delish blade would materialize, bursting through the barsion and then piercing the Swift-Dagger’s head. He would—

  Kaescis jolted upward, lifted from the ground. Thick magma-coated fingers separated him from Solidin, and then Kaescis felt himself flying. He soon crashed into something hard that gave way before him. He tumbled, sliding across a smooth floor and crashed into a wall. Kaescis kept sliding until the purple hue around his armor faded.

  Damned conjurer… he cursed, looking about. He was in some kind of niche… My armor must have carved a hole in the wall. Kaescis had slid uncontrollably, but stopped once all the disintegrating magic was expended.

  “I was too slow,” he said, crawling through the niche and back into a room. It looked like those he had encountered at the other Keepers’ shrines throughout the world. There was another hole across from the niche his armor had carved. This hole, however, was a good seven phineals above the ground; even part of the ceiling was demolished. Battle sounds echoed into the room from that hole. That must have been where he was thrown. He could leap back through it, or…

  “Laeyit and Bratan can push the line,” he mused, then quickly uttered the incantation to re-summon his Ko’delish blade. It formed from mist, seething from his gauntleted hand.

  * * * * *

  “What do we do, Cor?” Aron asked. He looked eager to fight, but the elves hadn’t been hostile with them. In fact, this was probably the most pleasant kidnapping Cornar had ever experienced. Granted, he didn’t make a habit of allowing such things to occur. The elves were not as evil as Krindal had implied. That gave him pause.

  Cornar relaxed. The elves were focused on the two remaining Mindolarnians. Solidin had since recovered from Kaescis’s debilitating grapple and joined the battle against Laeyit. The prince, however, had been thrown into the wall behind Cornar and the others. Kaescis hadn’t returned to the battle.

  A clattering charge resounded from across the cavern. Cornar’s men, led by Nordal, ran from the tunnel and across the bridge. Crimson Praetorians were mingled among their ranks. Once they were all on the bridge, Mindolarn soldiers poured through the cave.

  This courtyard will become a bloodbath, he thought.

  “Vargos, the men,” Cornar said, pointing to Nordal and the others, but barsion already surrounded them. They must have been enhanced by the Mindolarn mages.

  “Are we going to attack, Cor?” Igan asked.

  He didn’t know if they should. This was obviously a heated feud between the Sapphire Guard and the Mindolarn Empire. Yes, they were Mindolarn’s allies, but something nagged at him not to get directly involved. Then there was that warning from Solidin about the prince.

  “I’m perfectly fine sitting out,” Vargos said.

  “We should get inside the temple,” Kalder suggested. “This courtyard will be overrun shortly.”

  That was a sound suggestion. The conjured magma elemental had already taken up a lot of space. It stood fifteen phineals tall and had a stocky build, as most of those creatures did. They were humanoid in appearance, but they lacked a lot of human-like features. They didn’t have noses, eyes, or ears. Cornar always wondered how they could sense things—but that didn’t matter, as the conjurer was in complete control of their actions.

  “Pull back,” Cornar said, “to the central chamber.” Gregan and Vargos were the first inside the temple, followed by Kalder and Aron. Igan, however, remained with Cornar.

  “What are you doing, Cor?” the wizard asked.

  Nordal and the others reached the barricade. The Crimson Praetorians, however, dashed along the bridge’s rails. How dangerous… They leapt unnaturally in the air, vaulting over the barricades and into the fray. Nordal’s head peeked above the barricade and he climbed over it.

  Several more members of the Sapphire Guard burst into the courtyard. One of them uttered an incantation, mustering pale-gray magic; it looked like a telekinetic spell.

  Not at Nordal, Cornar sucked in a deep breath. Not at my men. If that magic struck any of his men he’d attack that elf. He would deluge this courtyard in blood.

  Cornar dashed to the elf, but the elven mage finished his spell. A cloud of trailing gray shot across the courtyard, zipping around the members of the Sapphire Guard.

  Settling into a wide stance beside the elf, Cornar watched as the telekinetic magic went straight for Laeyit. The woman dodged Solidin’s rapid strikes—that elf was incredibly fast—and she tumbled out of the magic’s way.

  The gray cloud circled about and struck Laeyit in the back. She screamed in shock as she was pushed diagonally through the air, toward the chasm. Laeyit yelled what Cornar thought to be an incantation, but he saw no magic manifest. The telekinetic magic redirected her, and she went straight through the opening and was hurled into the pit.

  By Heleron’s Fin, he gasped. He didn’t care much for the woman, but he didn’t wish her dead. She was an ally… well, a fellow member of the expedition. He didn’t think of that as strictly an alliance. That would imply a certain level of trust. Unfortunately for Laeyit, she would never have the chance to earn it.

  She was gone…

  The same Sapphire Guard mage began casting another telekinetic spell.

  Do I dare attack? Cornar wondered. The other elves didn’t seem to pay attention, or care, that Cornar and his men were in their territory.

  Light shone near the bridge, magic mustered by the young mages of Cornar’s band. An orb of lime-green acid hovered above Clodin. A freezing mist gathered above Tinal, forming an icy shard. Several swarming orbs formed above Renal, becoming a dozen arcane bolts.

  * * * * *

  “You’re next, Ordreth,” Midar said. He was crouched beside the barricade on the bridge; it looked like metal fused with stone.

  Transmutative magic, huh? Ordreth thought.

  Shen and Cordel were beside Midar, shoving their magically imbued blades into the metal. They needed to cut down the wall.

  Ordreth climbed atop Midar and was pushed upward to the top of the barricade. The battle was intense. The Praetorians and the elves were wildly going at it, totally unrestrained.

  Nordal clashed with one of the elves battling a Praetorian. The elf parried his blow, eyeing him up and down. After one look the elf said something to Nordal and returned his focus to the Praetorian. Nordal didn’t seem to react, though. He just kept on attacking. How typical of Nordal.

  Ordreth dropped to the floor of this strange courtyard, seeing his uncle and Igan standing at the far end by some massive doors. Uncle Cor was still alive! What a wonderful reli
ef it was to see his uncle alive and well. Well, as well as he could be in this situation. Why was Uncle Cor just standing there?

  Markin and Demsal dropped beside Ordreth, dashing into the fray. They were eager for a battle, as were all the others. The entire band was ready to save Uncle Cor from his captors.

  Ordreth moved to engage the elves, but a shower of arcane bolts rained down upon his opponents. The magic struck the elves’ barsion in a violent explosion. Their barsion flickered but didn’t dissipate.

  Should be another wave, Ordreth thought, edging toward the elves. They, however, ignored him and focused on the Crimson Praetorians.

  Why? Did they not see him and his comrades as a threat?

  * * * * *

  Solidin rapidly struck the Crimson Praetorian dueling him, evading arcane bolts as they plummeted. His daggers pierced the man’s barsion—was this Praetorian a man? One could never tell with these Mindolarnians. Solidin executed a beautiful flurry of strikes, precisely hitting the Praetorian in the same spot. The blows cracked his armor. The Praetorian staggered backward.

  Perfect! Solidin backed up, grinning.

  The Praetorian cocked his helmet and spun. Solidin watched as Religas’s conjuration scooped up the man, tossing him across the courtyard. The Praetorian sailed over the barricades and into the pit. Poor fool.

  Spinning around, Solidin surveyed the rest of the battle. Cornar’s men had joined with the Mindolarnians in the assault. Solidin’s soldiers were doing the best to evade the Sorothians. They weren’t their enemies, although necromancers were among them. What a despicable corruption of the magical arts…

  That acidic orb—cast by one of Cornar’s necromancers—flew from the ledge, flying straight for Solidin.

  Too slow, Solidin grumbled and dashed toward the bridge. He slid, using the barricades as a shield against the coming acid. Solidin spun back onto his feet, nearly colliding with another member of the Sapphire Guard. He watched the magic erupt in a splash against both elf and Mindolarnian alike.

  A whistle echoed throughout the cavern, and then an icy shard flew above Solidin and the clashing armies. The freezing magic struck the conjuration in the chest, causing steam to fill the air.

  Good shot, Solidin thought, dashing to another Praetorian. Magic shot from near the doors of the temple, raining down on those on the ledge and the bridge.

  Solidin unleashed a flurry of blows and evaded a swing from the Praetorian’s fanisar. The Praetorian soon fell wounded, blood dripping from a gash in his ribcage.

  A crash resounded from the bridge. The barricade had fallen. Cornar’s men flooded into the courtyard. More Mindolarn soldiers were behind them.

  Have to finish this one, Solidin thought, kicking away his foe’s weapon. He jammed his dagger into the wound, twisting the blade. Solidin forced the Praetorian into submission, using his legs to wrestle him to the ground. One of his foe’s arms was pinned against the floor and another tucked against his chest. Solidin violently stabbed the Praetorian’s neck, breaking his barsion. Three more jabs and the dagger rammed through the armor, piercing the man’s jugular.

  Blood spewed from the wound, painting the barsion red in front of Solidin’s face. Swiftly removing his blades, Solidin rolled off the dying Praetorian, blood pooling beneath him.

  As Solidin stood he heard a shout in Elvish, “The last group is away!”

  Solidin turned to the temple’s doors, then back to the bridge. They’d be overrun shortly. Only twenty-seven members of the Sapphire Guard were alive, including the six mages. The mages had already fled upon hearing the report.

  “All retreat!” Solidin shouted in Elvish. He dashed to the temple’s entrance, passing Cornar and Igan. They were just standing there. You couldn’t decide, could you, Cornar? Solidin thought, darting into the foyer. Perhaps there was hope for the man.

  Solidin made his way to the northern side of the temple, running to his left. He glimpsed a wall of barsion barring the other hall which led to the area where the half-breed prince was thrown.

  That should buy us enough time, Solidin thought. He ran through the halls and entered the temple’s central chamber. The other Sorothians were standing there.

  “Aren’t you coming with us?” Solidin demanded as he bolted toward the corridor leading to the transportium chamber.

  “You’re joking, right?” Gregan said hostilely. That man was fiery. But he was a redhead, after all.

  Kalder raised an eyebrow at him, and the other two just stared.

  That was obviously a no.

  “Suit yourselves,” Solidin said and dashed into the hall, passing Gahebrial, one of the Sapphire Guard’s barsionists.

  “Twenty-one,” Solidin shouted to the elf.

  Gahebrial nodded and began casting an incantation, mustering blue light.

  * * * * *

  The magma elemental squatted in front of the temple’s entrance as elves retreated through the doors. It didn’t regard Cornar or Igan. They might as well have been statues.

  More soldiers flooded into the courtyard behind Cornar’s men. There was barely enough room for them to stand. Shouted commands resounded from the bridge, coming from what sounded like Grand Marshal Hezidex. The soldiers fell into formation, with Crimson Praetorians in front.

  One of the Praetorians stepped ahead, wielding a wicked-looking fanisar. That looks like Bratan’s weapon, Cornar thought.

  The grand marshal shouted another command, calling for the mages to attack.

  “We need to move, Cor!” Igan exclaimed, dashing to the Mindolarn soldiers.

  The wizard was right. Cornar followed Igan as a variety of destructive magics shot from the ledge leading to the cave.

  A disintegrating beam struck the magma elemental’s chest, followed by icy shards and arcane orbs. More spells shot across the cavern and struck the conjuration. It stepped back, crouching in front of the doors. The mage in control of the magma creature was probably trying to block their entrance. Brilliant strategy.

  Bratan rushed forward, swinging his fanisar. Was he trying to bait the magma elemental away from the door? Bratan came within weapon’s reach and struck a blow against the creature’s knee.

  The conjuration didn’t move. Bratan had probably hoped it would swat at him, giving the mages a chance to blow off its arm.

  More magic struck the conjuration, and it cracked. Soon, it fell in pieces, crumbling in front of the door.

  Hezidex shouted an order for the debris to be cleared and soldiers flooded around Cornar and Igan.

  Amid the clanking of armor in the courtyard, Cornar heard his name. He spun, seeing Nordal and Midar weaving around the soldiers advancing on the temple.

  “You’re alive!” Midar exclaimed. He was the first to reach Cornar and embraced him in a tight hug. Nordal smirked and shook his head. Soon, the rest of Cornar’s band was gathered. They gave their heartfelt welcomes, expressing their relief at his safety.

  Ordreth was in the rear, just staring at him. Cornar smiled at his nephew and a tear trickled down Ordreth’s cheek. Ordreth pushed through the others and ran toward him, nearly tackling Cornar with a hug.

  “You’re all right!” Ordreth exclaimed through tears of joy. He pulled back and looked at Cornar, studying his face. “I… I…” His face contorted in sorrow and he glanced away.

  Oh, Ordreth, Cornar thought, patting his nephew on the shoulder.

  “It’s clear!” Bratan shouted and yelled a battle cry. Cornar glimpsed him charging into the temple.

  “We should go!” Nordal shouted.

  “No!” Cornar barked. “Let them handle this.”

  Nordal looked confused. He reluctantly lowered his sword, a frown forming upon his face. Nordal was itching for more fighting, but Cornar didn’t want his men tangled up in this feud with the Sapphire Guard.

  * * * * *

  Solidin dashed into the corridor leading to the transportium, several mages stood ready, including Gladis. He passed the mages but slowed upon nearing his friend
.

  “I have checked the surrounding area and there are no rooms on either side of this hall,” Gladis said in Elvish, gesturing to his left and right. “I will make barricades to slow their pursuit.”

  Solidin nodded. It was a good plan. “There should be twenty-one behind me,” he said, “and our barsionists.”

  “I thought you took forty with you?” Gladis asked warily.

  “That prince has a new blade,” Solidin said. “It can cut straight through barsion like it was not even there.”

  “Disturbing…”

  Several seconds later, Kaldarin dashed into the corridor with several others. Where were the rest? Kaldarin must have sensed the unspoken question. “They are protecting Gahebrial,” he said.

  “Go,” Solidin said, and gestured to the transportium chamber. The elves hurried past Solidin while he eagerly awaited the others’ arrival.

  Gladis began casting his transmutative spell; brown magic flowed from his hands and seeped into the wall. It liquefied the stone in four places along either side. Gladis slowed his incantation, slowly exhaling the sound of one of the words. This was a necessary technique to keep a spell from completely forming.

  In the case of transmutative magic, the transformation caused by the spell would persist after the incantation was finished. But, in order to keep it in this liquefied state a mage would have to hold the spell mid-incantation. Otherwise, the matter would be turned to mush, and the spell would have to be recast.

  Gladis’s spell remained in this fluctuating state until the rest of the Sapphire Guard dashed into the hall.

  Gladis created the first barricade, then one of the barsionists cast a spell behind it. They repeated this pattern three more times, and then retreated into the transportium chamber, with Solidin trailing behind them.

  Solidin was the last to step onto the dais. It floated above the floor, surrounded by barsion magic. Six of his mages knelt around the dais, hands nearly touching it. White-gray magic persisted around their hands and spilled over the sides—telekinetic magic. They were humming a part of their incantation, as Gladis had done.