Convict Fenix

by Alan Brickett

  But beyond that, he was able to talk around the source of the spell quite well, vague recollections and meanderings on the nature of life proved to be of no use, and Fenix’s patience waned. So he left the old knight be and focused on the journey.

  After a little while, he felt it safe to ask, “Why are you traveling with me, Convenient? I thought you would be on your way.”

  The brown eyes of the knight gave Fenix a searching look.

  “Aye, lad, and I will be. Once I’ve given you some direction and traveled with you a ways. Besides, the bridge is this way. It’s the only way off this plateau aside from flying. And I cannot fly.”

  That was true and practical. “OK, but what sort of direction do you expect to be giving me?”

  The tone he had used to ask the question elicited a chuckle, but Convenient didn’t seem to be offended.

  “My friend, your actions were rash and impatient.”

  Convenient looked at him and saw that Fenix knew it as well. He had the good sense not to push the gray-skinned man on the subject.

  “So I have some information that you may want to exploit. But first, tell me, why did you go after Torn so soon after arriving? Did he have something you wanted perhaps?”

  The old knight was canny, Fenix had forgotten that the prisoners who survived might well have been around for a very long time. The age they were upon their arrival to the Prison seemed to freeze in the magical effect that kept everyone alive, aside from Vitae.

  Convenient was an older man even before he got here, so despite his strange behavior, Fenix shouldn’t forget that Convenient could well be quite canny and hiding it.

  There wasn’t any harm in revealing what he had failed to do, and perhaps this strangely dressed enigmatic man could help.

  “I was attempting to acquire the goat man’s teleport key.”

  “Ah, yes. That makes sense. And a good attempt, too. Although you don’t know that the Warlock’s magic sustains Torn through any conflict. Quite the trick, really. His master gets a patsy to do the fighting, and even if Torn were to lose, the Warlock, though perhaps drained, would still be far away. They have two teleport keys, maybe more.”

  Fenix nodded, mulling it over while they walked among the tall trees.

  “You are not yet ready to face such foes. You have been here only a short span of time and have yet to regain enough of yourself.” Convenient stopped to look at him.

  “In time, you will be a great force, powerful enough to stand against these greatest of powers within the Prison. But not yet. You must have the patience to hold yourself back, prepare yourself properly or you will fail.” The old knight’s eyes were intent, focused on making him understand.

  The man then gave a hand signal that startled Fenix so much he grabbed the knight’s arm.

  “Where did you learn that?” His voice was firm, insistent.

  The sign had been one meaning “follow,” and it was of his own people, one of their signs used in the army and among the particular groups.

  Convenient seemed a little embarrassed.

  “I apologize, it was just that the nostalgia got the better of me. But I cannot tell you how I know this. I am sworn to secrecy.”

  Fenix stared long and hard into Convenient’s eyes, searching for any sign of duplicity or misdirection.

  But there was none.

  He let go of the man’s arm and stepped back, still giving him a hard look. It was likely. The spell structure back in the cave, the hand signal which would only be shared to a trusted person, or servant. The signs pointed to another of his kind having worked with Convenient before.

  “You helped me because of your past encounter, did you not?” he asked the old man.

  Convenient seemed to struggle a moment as if deciding how much he could say.

  “Yes, my friend, one of you. But please, that is all that I can say.”

  After a momentary pause, Fenix responded, “I understand. And I thank you for that much. My kind are fraught with terrible secrets and means of loyalty. I respect that you cannot say more and will not ask again.”

  Convenient relaxed again at the words. Fenix was pleased, any further information would need to come willingly. This was not a man who took his oaths, or his loyalty, lightly. He may yet give away more than he intended if he was at ease around Fenix.

  “Come, we have far to go.” Convenient spoke this time rather than signing and headed off.

  **

  It took them the rest of that day.

  It was hard travel and a good reminder of why Fenix wanted to ease his journey through the Prison. That next nightfall, they looked down at the arrivals area and saw the activity of many people with torches.

  Torn was among them, issuing instructions loud enough to hear even at this distance, but not loud enough to glean the exact words. The goat man left the place using the teleport stone, as a host of other convicts searched the area and made for the bridge up to the land mass they were now on.

  “He cannot search for you forever. The Warlock will want the mines operating again.” Convenient sat comfortably on his haunches.

  “So he has only so much time to find you. I would suggest that we avoid the northern lands for a while. At least until the convicts there forget what we look like.”

  Fenix nodded in agreement. “What do they use the mines for? The ore and metals, gems and the like?

  Convenient shrugged.

  “The usual. They make metal, which they trade with other inhabitants for Vitae or other goods. They also stockpile and build with the metal. The Warlock uses the gems for spell work, likely ways to escape the Prison. Ah, I see that catches your interest. Believe me, friend, since the Warlock has been trying for over a decade, I doubt there has been much success. Seek your own path.”

  Fenix had indeed seriously considered the thought of siding with the Warlock, on his terms of course.

  But Convenient was correct, if the Warlock was still imprisoned, either there was little hope there, or the Warlock was very close and unlikely to share. Either way, his best chance was yet to learn more and explore.

  “Come, let us slip by these poor souls and make our way south.” Convenient got up and led Fenix into the brush off the side of the bridge.

  Fenix did not doubt his ability to sneak past the searchers, and Convenient seemed able enough despite the amount of armor he wore. He moved quite silently actually and was adept at blending in with the environment.

  What must once have been a proud tabard of white silk was now stained and dirty, helping him blend in with the landscape.

  Ironic?

  “Why south?” he asked as they moved, keeping his voice to a low whisper.

  Convenient didn’t stop or turn around but spoke just as softly. “The path south from arrivals and the vortex will lead us to Outsiders’ Town. There you will find the Seductress Quelina. If you still seek a teleport key, she will be your best chance, since Old Man Page is least to be trifled with. And, regardless, I do not know where he lives.”

  “I could not defeat Torn. And you are correct, I should grow and learn more about the Prison. Improve my skills further. Do you believe Quelina is an easier target?”

  He caught the flash of yellow teeth.

  “No, no, she is not an easier target than Torn. The whore of prostitutes, the enigma of desire, she is no minor player, not at all. But she does have something you will want that will lead you to someone who does have a teleport key.”

  “Please, explain.” Fenix kept his impatience from his tone.

  “Of course. Did you travel up the other side from the path to the Warrens and see that fort blocking access to the only other way we could go?”

  “Yes, I saw it. Quite the construction, and guarded by beings in full armor.”

  “That is the one, yes. Well, those beings and many more of their kind are all beholden to Joanne. She is the leader of their group and quite unloved by the other powers in the Prison. The Warlock trades with her, but otherwis
e has no great desire for anything further. Old Man Page makes alliances with no one, and Quelina, frankly, loathes the woman.”

  The conversation paused when the two men had to duck out of sight of some convicts carrying torches who moved past on a small trail above the gully they were in.

  Once the prisoners were passed, their surreptitious sneaking continued, as did the explanation from Convenient.

  “Joanne is on some sort of crazy mission. She regularly raids Outsiders’ Town. It is a vast land mass, a third more extensive than the size of the Festering Warrens, and houses many strange and wonderful beings.

  Joanne seeks them out to destroy them, obtaining Vitae and completing some kind of misguided mission of her own creation.”

  Fenix was beginning to get the idea. They fell silent when they got to the bridge. On the far side, a group of inmates waited, watching the bridge for any sign of someone trying to cross.

  “Quelina may be quite happy to encounter someone willing to kill Joanne, especially a particular someone who would want Joanne’s teleport key. It serves to be a constant threat to Quelina and the other residents.”

  “May be happy?” Fenix asked, curious as to the amount of certainty there.

  “Aye, lad, she may. She is a capricious creature, but don’t worry. I expect the worst she will do is exact more of a price for her aid. You will certainly get her attention with your suggestion. You see, Quelina locked up the only other clear passage from the forest land mass on which Joanne and her communion of followers reside. The one entrance is the fort you have seen, but it is many days’ travel to Outsiders’ Town from there along the narrow path that winds around the west.”

  “Not an easy journey, and certainly not good for a raid and easy escape. The only other way is via the teleport, and Quelina has the one on the land mass of Outsiders’ Town locked up and sealed, except when she uses it. But it is a constant threat, and there are other landmasses connected nearby, with their own stones. So if you help her, she would be happy to let you take whatever prize from the cold dead corpse of Joanne that suited your fancy.”

  “An interesting notion. Shall we see about getting over this bridge then, and trying out the theory?” Fenix was itching to acquire some more Vitae, and the bridge guards would be adequate targets for his frustration over his loss to Torn.

  “Sneaking past these guards will require time, time we may not have.” Fenix pointed out, hoping for the fight.

  Convenient had a slight smile on his face. “I agree.”

  “You do?” Again the man surprised Fenix, but then there was something which kept him not only tolerating Convenient’s presence but also listening. Not just for possible information, but something else intangible.

  “I do. Over this bridge the Warlock has little sway. Or, if I should troth it properly, tell it true I mean, the Warlock does not have enough power to control that plateau and beyond.”

  “Because of Quelina?” Fenix eyed the skies to the south where a haze rose into the sky in one place and in the other more esoteric atmospheric effects could be seen.

  “Yes, and those that make their home there, those who want nothing to do with others. Humanoids tend to group together, but in those land where Quelina rules, the Outsiders live and jealously protect their independence.”

  Like a kingdom, the rulers of those lands at an uneasy peace.

  “Quelina, the Warlock, they have not gone to war?” He asked Convenient.

  “Nay lad, it would not be in their best interests and despite all else they survive as rulers because they also know their limits. And when to test them.”

  The pointed reminder of Fenix’s own folly said all that needed to be said.

  **

  The two men made short work of the other convicts.

  Although skilled and tough, they had little chance against a concerted surprise attack from the two men.

  From there side of the bridge, Fenix sighted and lofted an arrow high up into the sky in an arc that brought it down behind the guards on the opposite end of the bridge. The enchantment in the arrowhead went off with the same kind of explosion he had attempted on Torn.

  The noise and pyrotechnic display got the guards’ attention immediately.

  Of the nine of them, there was one who was placed in charge because he had some semblance of a brain. At five foot two inches tall the being stood on what could only be tentacles, or perhaps trunks like you would find on an elephant.

  With its mottled green and purple skin, it would have been at home in an ocean if not for the lack of gills and the apparent covering of feathers around the beak on its head. With a gesture and a chirp, this being had three of guards move back to observe the direction of the explosion but kept them close.

  The next chirp chastised the rest of the guards into turning back around to the bridge which they were supposed to be exclusively giving their attention.

  So they were in the best position to understand how badly screwed they were.

  Convenient moved like a man in heavy armor, and his choice of weapon did not allow for dainty attacks or flowing moves. No, the old knight was all stocky build, hard movement and reaching strikes.

  What separated Convenient from other knights who would have never made it across the bridge was that he was experienced.

  Fenix was impressed.

  The two of them sprinted for the start of the bridge as soon as the guard turned to look at the explosion on the other side. At first, Fenix thought that Convenient would keep accelerating, that was how fast the knight managed to go.

  But instead, he went from slow to fast and then stayed at that pace in a stride that ate up the eighty-foot distance. With that show of fitness Convenient would probably be able to run a mile or more without slowing, even with everything he carried.

  The kind of fitness and reserves of endurance Convenient showed in just that run told Fenix that the man was highly experienced at the one thing he had dedicated himself to perfecting.

  A warrior.

  In perfect balance on the swaying bridge, wooden planks creaking under the force of his weight and speed, Convenient hurtled towards the startled group of guards like a crazed metal comet.

  For his part, Fenix came up behind and lobbed arrow after arrow at them.

  Convenient did not flinch at the whooshing shafts, one of which very nearly nicked his ear when Fenix had to aim carefully to hit a guard moving to cut off the old knight.

  Each arrow had an enchanted arrowhead, etched to be sharper and penetrate deeper than any mundane weapon. Two, and then three guards went down quickly, soft spots in the throat or an arrow through the single eye of the one rendering them into corpses.

  The dissolving bodies and black and white sparkles spread aside from Convenient’s path where he parted the air.

  A distinctive ring sounded, and that sword came clear of its scabbard.

  White light flared around Convenient where the butterfly ax of a bulky humanoid came down on the blade of his own weapon. The impact caused a shockwave to expand outwards from the two men, and where the edge of the ax touched the sword, it started to glow a cherry red.

  Of course, the Warlock would not have average guards, they would be equipped and capable of something, even if not to the same caliber as Torn.

  One of the reasons why Fenix preferred a ranged attack, it had so many more options than up close combat. Survival did not require conflict, and when it did, that kind of battle did not need to be anything like some perceptions of honorable.

  With a short hop Fenix touched the one rope of the bridge, closing on Convenient from behind, he then pushed with his toes and leaped into a summersault over the old knight.

  He came down well away from Convenient and his opponent, but in the short time he took to make his move, he learned a lot more about the man.

  Convenient moved like a hefty bovine in the heavy armor and simple weapon, but he moved well!

  There was no wasted movement, and every single action flowed
into another one. The old knight was in perfect control of where he stood, how he stood, and how he attacked with every heartbeat.

  If you could enjoy watching a skyscraper perform ballet, then you could appreciate the sheer finality of Convenient’s attention on your demise. He brushed aside the ax of his opponent in consecutive ripostes, and with each slash, his return strikes opened up deep wounds on his opponent.

  The ax wielder was bigger, looked to have more muscle, and was considerably more interested in reducing the subjects of his ax blows into a grotesque ruin.

  None of the heavy strikes fazed Convenient, each one slipped past with a deft movement while the sword found spaces and struck deep, accurately and in a slash that opened heavily bleeding wounds.

  Fenix landed on his feet with only five guards left alive, Convenient’s opponent expiring with a last gurgle.

  Their fast attack was for surprise, and to keep any of them from summoning help. Apparently, they could launch a flare of some sort, and Fenix knew to watch out for it when the tentacle creature brought out a small cylinder.

  The top popped off with a puff of smoke, and from the inside, a shrill whine started. Before the projectile flare could get more than an inch from the open mouth of the cylinder, Fenix had already sighted and loosed an arrow in response.

  The flare succumbed to his enchanted arrowhead in an impotent bang and flaccid fall of smoke to the ground.

  The other guards were meant to hold up Convenient and Fenix while this creature could call for help. Now that Fenix had identified that, he had to keep the creature busy.

  Of the other four Convenient stoically stepped to one side and brought his sword around as he went. The blade shimmered, and within that glow, there was spelled a certainty that defied objection from an uncaring universe.

  In this case, the certainty was of an unblockable cut, where the sword passed another guard went by dismembered.

  Step after step, reliable and sure, Convenient moved on to the next.