by Darkbringer
The first to ride through was a tall knight in shining silver armor, helm tucked under his left arm, regally sitting astride a massive war-steed of the finest breeding. Red hair flickered in the wind behind him, and two naked male slaves carrying banners of a flaming lion’s head quickly darted out to march by either side. A whisper immediately went up amongst the crowd. Imperial. Majestic. The Royal Lion of Gondar had descended to save them all!
“Who’s in charge here?” The man roared in a clear, precise voice that carried the length of the school grounds.
A young, naked female slave ran up and quickly prostrated herself before him. “The High Lady Estella Stargazer presides over the school here, My Lord. The Lord Allister Silverton is the mayor of the town. Perhaps one of them would be whom The Great Lord seeks?”
“Have them both here in the half-mark, or else they’ll be whipped.” Growling, the knight hopped off his horse and walked over towards the nearest picnic tables. “Who here can give me a status report?! Come, speak up!” Dozens of knights in full plate armor were beginning to emerge from the portal in tight military formation and looking prepared for anything. Blades were drawn, lances were held at ready, and every tenth horse held a wizard or priest who was prepared to unleash whatever magics were necessary.
A young, rough looking boy, dressed in rags and stained in dirt rushed forward. “I’z tell ya what’s a happenin! I be Sammy!”
One of the school guards, reacting quickly, grabbed the young man by the scruff of the hair and yanked him back, knocking him to the ground. “Know your place, street brat! You shouldn’t even be here!” Snarling, he half spat on the boy, starting to drag him back into the crowd.
“STOP!” The knight in the silver armor commanded in a voice that brooked no argument. “Sir Liam!”
One of the knights at the front of the pack spurred his war-steed and rode forward. Taking his helm from his head, he tucked it under his left arm and bowed his head slightly. “My Lord Commander?”
“Take that man and have him lashed. Should he have strength enough to lift his arms in the morning, I shall be displeased.” Turning to stare directly at the knight before him, the commander’s eyes were full of cold steel. “A free citizen of our land answered my call and sought to bring me valuable intel on our opponents. That man stopped them. Whether he be a spy, or a fool, I know and care not. Teach him the error of his ways.”
“My Lord.” Sir Liam nodded respectfully, and then placed his helm back upon his head. “Sir Tristam! Sir Evans! Sir Williams! Take that man into custody!” The three knights which he’d pointed to quickly dismounted and strode over to where the guard and the boy still stood. The crowd parted quickly to clear the way.
“Wait a minute.” Letting go of the boy, the guard began to back up slowly, holding both hands high in the air. “I’m not a spy! I was just making certain that beggar-brat didn’t try to harm the prince! I was merely doing my job.”
Unrelenting, the three knights stomped forward, heavy metal boots crushing the grass underneath them. As it looked as if the guardsman might suddenly panic and run, Sir Evans lumbered forward several quick steps and slammed a gauntleted fist into his face. Blood flew and the guard staggered and swayed. Sir Tristam closed the distance and slammed his metal fist into the guard’s gut. As he staggered and fell, Sir William strode purposefully forward and launched a solid kick upside the guard’s head with a heavy metal boot.
Glancing down, Sir Tristam nodded and the other two knights picked the unconscious guardsman up and held his limp body under the arms. “Prisoner acquired, Sir!” Sir Tristam snapped his heels together and saluted Sir Liam, who simply nodded in return.
Gazing around for a moment, Sir Liam finally nodded back at Sir Tristam. “Find a cell for the fool, have him questioned, and then – if he’s not a spy for our unknown enemy – have him lashed a dozen times and both arms broken. If The Lion needs the protection of a piss-ant, we’re all doomed. Make certain he learns his lesson.”
“Thy will be done, My Lord.” Sir Tristam bowed slightly – full plate armor not allowing for the sweeping curtsies that one could perform in court dress – and then nodded to the two others beside him. Together, all three dragged the unconscious guardsman off towards the nearest building. If the school didn’t have a cell, they’d find something suitable. They had their orders.
Sir Liam pulled his helmet off once again and rubbed his hand through his short white hair. Showing obvious signs of age, he nevertheless held himself sure and straight. He may have a few years behind him already, but there were several years of strong fight left in him yet! Trying to smile as gently as his battle haggard old face would allow, Sir Liam slowly walked and held a hand out towards the young man. “Young Freeman Samuel, I believe you called yourself?”
“Nevah did no such thing!” Brushing aside the older knights hand, Sammy got up and stared defiantly into his eyes. “I be Sammy. Not whatevah ta ‘eck ya said! Nevers claimed to be naught but Sammy, neither!”
Blinking once, surprised by the spark the young man still exhibited after being roughed up by one of the guards, Sir Liam finally laughed lightly. “My apologies, Sammy. It seems these old ears of mine caused me to misheard, and this old tongue misspoke.” Bowing slightly, Sir Liam hung his head for a moment in apology.
Rising back up, he nodded once again, respectfully. “I understand you have some information for Our Lord? Do you need a healer first? A drink? Or a meal?”
“Don’t need no healer. I’ve had me hair tugged harder ‘an that by me baby sister!” Proudly, Sammy puffed out his chest to show that he was fine. “But I’ll take all them meals and drinks that ya got to spare! If’n I get extra, I’ll take ‘em home to my family.”
“Sir Thomas!” Not even bothering to look around, the old knight yelled and soon another younger knight in battle-ready plate stormed forward and kneeled beside him.
“My Lord?”
“Have all the food and drink this young man can carry prepared. Escort him home with it and make certain that any who would try to deny it him, or take it from him, will have the wrath of the Order of the Lion’s Crown upon them.”
“It shall be done!” Rising with a swift salute, Sir Thomas turned and began yelling orders at some of the school guards standing nearby.
Sammy half laughed, watching it all. “Ya all a bunch of lazy bastards, ain’t ya! Each one of ya pass off the chores ta someone else! Must be nice!”
“HA!” Instead of taking offense, Sir Liam barked a half laugh in return. “Does it seem that way to you, young Sammy?” It was nice to hear honesty from time to time. Honest opinions help keep the hearts that respect them honest as well – it was one of Sir Liam’s core beliefs.
“What else wouldja call it?” Shrugging, Sammy just smiled. “Fancy Pants tells ya something. Ya tell someone else. They tells someone else. If’n Fancy Pants just did it ‘imself ta start with, there wouldn’t need to be a ‘ole lot of chickens running round with no head!”
“AhHahahaha!” Laughing freely, Sir Liam just smiled and finally held out his hand – which Sammy just ignored again. Smiling ever more broadly, Sir Liam finally motioned back over towards his commander, who was currently busy studying maps and papers laid out across the top of a picnic table.
“Hey, Fancy Pants!” Striding over to the young knight, Sammy walked up, spat in his hand and then held it out. “I be Sammy. Whatcha want to know? I tell ya everything!”
Blinking, and then looking around for a moment, puzzlement obvious on his face, the young red-haired knight raised an eyebrow in question towards Sir Liam. “The young man who you were going to interview, My Lord,” Sir Liam explained, grinning slightly.
Nodding, the young commander turned his attention back towards Sammy. “So what can you tell me about these invaders?”
“Not a damn thing!” Snorting stubbornly, Sammy waved his hand up and down a few times to emphasize its placement. “Man can’t even shake ya hand, whatcha want ta tell ‘im anything
fer?”
Raising his eyebrow again at Sir Liam, the corners of the young commander’s lips twitched up and down slightly. “Spunky one, he is, My Lord,” Sir Liam observed. “I may just take me a squire soon.”
“At your age?” The young commander laughed lightly and then finally reached and took Sammy’s hand in his own. “Crown Prince Leonard el’Gondor, the Flaming Lion, at your service. Now then, good Sammy, what can you tell me about these invaders?”
“Damndest invaders I’z evah ‘eard about!” Sammy declared boldly. “Send one pretty miss ta ride up ta the gates and ask ta be let in. Mayor All-Slime tells ‘em ta bugger off, and they turn round and just make camp outside like he told ‘em too! Ain’t raped nor pillaged a single soul so far, as I ‘ear! Just stole some food from ta farmer’s, but I can’t say I blames ‘em fer that! They’z gotta eats too! Ya gets hungry, ya don’t care whose food it is. Ya just want it in ya belly!”
“So these invaders haven’t actually attacked anyone, asked ransom, or made demands?” Lord Leonard rubbed his chin lightly and stared thoughtfully off towards the city walls. “And how many are there, do you know?”
“I dunno,” Sammy shrugged slightly. “More ‘en me fingers and toes. Prolly bout as many outside as ya see in the marketplace on a busy mornin.”
Nodding slightly, the young commander turned his attention to the older knight beside him. “West Gondor market would probably hold between six hundred and two thousand people, wouldn’t you say, Sir Liam?”
“That sounds like a reasonable estimate, My Lord,” Sir Liam agreed.
“The city should have more than enough defenders to deal with such a threat,” Lord Leonard mused. “Just why the hell were we sent for, in such a panicked state? Has anyone even tried to parlay with these invaders yet?”
“Nope! Haven’t even tried ta talk ta them either,” Sammy offered helpfully. “Just told ‘em ‘shoo shoo’ and then left ‘em outside ta rot.”
Going down
Falling through the darkness, Crystal clung tightly to Michael. ‘I hope you have a plan for this!’ She screamed mind-to-mind at him, causing him to laugh wildly.
“Not at all! I just knew we couldn’t hang around up there and I figured jumping was better than being pushed off or slammed into by a leaper!” Cackling wildly, Michael had to admit, he positively felt alive. Wind rushing by, ground rapidly approaching, and no real plan of survival – what could be more exhilarating?!
Reaching downwards into the darkness, Michael could sense the shattered remnants of his marble boulder, and the crumbled remains of what was once the stone steps which lead up to where Mongo and the healers still remained. Resisting the urge to lose the contents of his stomach from the vile touch of the taint on the stone, Michael forcibly grabbed the scattered debris and began shaping it to rise up to meet his and Crystal’s arcing descent. As the smooth stone slope came into sight, he moved it directly to their path, shaping it into a spiraling slope downwards. At the bottom of the huge slope, he extended another spiraling slide upwards.
“Hang on! This is going to be a wild ride!” Water parks and their super slides had nothing on the slide he’d constructed on the way down. Bouncing and spinning, Crystal and Michael slid down the spiraling ramp, slowly decelerating from the friction and the gradually altering angle of the slide. Reaching the bottom, they still had a massive amount of momentum and shot up the other side, slowing gradually, until gravity took over again. Like a marble in a ‘U’-slide, they spun, turned, and twisted as they started back down.
Trying to sense up at the place where they’d fallen from, Michael had a vague sense of Mongo, Jess, and Tiffany peering over the edge into the darkened abyss below them. Fighting the nausea from both the wild ride and the sickening greasy feeling that working with the unpurified tainted stone gave, Michael closed his eyes and focused on forcing a huge gust of wind up the slide, through the empty vastness of the cavern chamber, and into the tunnel where Mongo and the others were. At the first howling blast of wind, all three leaped back from the edge and hunkered low against the ground – not that it mattered anymore.
Once the magic traveled to the intersection where the dead were just beginning to clamber down towards the group up top, Michael pushed the air into a tightly compressed wall and shot it back down the passage. With the floors and walls covered in the slick goo that had been the zombies and leapers, Mongo and the girls were shot out of the tunnel like a cannonball. Screaming frantically as they careened through the darkness, a golden mist rained down upon the cavern below, as Michael forced the wall of air to guide them forward and onto the same ramp which he and Crystal had just finished sliding back down for the final time.
“We’d best move,” Michael suggested as he tried to crawl out of the slide. As he hit the ground, the impact was too much for his stomach, and he heaved everywhere. From the dim glow of some fluorescent mold nearby, it appeared as if they had ended up in the midst of a large flat surface – surrounded by the dead walking. Staggering out of the slide, Crystal weakly waved Heartblade back and forth, trying to recover from the intense vertigo which enveloped her. Neither man nor woman was built to endure the ride she’d just found herself on. Skeletons crumbled all around, destroyed by Heartblade’s aura.
Weakly, Michael forced his head up and willed a wall of fire to encircle them both and the base of the spiraling slide. The girls frantic screaming was rapidly approaching, and after just a few brief moments, it zipped past them and up the other side of the ramp. Like Michael and Crystal, their momentum was too great to halt in a single pass up the ‘U’-slide, and before long the screams could be heard coming back down the other side – and then back up the first side once again.
Several times Mongo, Jess, and Tiffany slid up one side and the back down the other before they finally came to a complete stop at the base of the giant spiraling ‘U’. “Hiyas guys! Did you miss us?” Cackling weakly, Michael leaned over and barfed once again when Jess crawled half out of the slide and did the same. By some miracle of will, the wall of fire held and the dead melted and burned before they could enjoy the warm flesh of the weak and disorientated living before them.
“Bottom floor; everything up,” Michael joked, as he tried desperately hard not to throw up again.
The Search for Truth
“What do you mean to tell me no has bothered to parley with the invaders?!” Lord Leonard slammed his fist on the top of the wooden picnic table, several maps vibrated and fell off from the force of the blow.
“Well… Not exactly… No, you see..” The mayor was stammering and stuttering, trying to come up with some excuse – any excuse – which would calm the prince’s temper.
“You have nearly a thousand guards, a whole school of wizards, a temple full of priests, and a knight’s chapterhouse in the city, and you shut the gates, cower like children afraid of the boogeyman, and can’t even speak to the people who march up and knock on your gates?” The look he was directing the mayor was full of cold, hard steel; contempt plain across his face.
“What the hell makes you think these are even invaders?!” Once again his fist slammed down on the picnic table; hard enough this time that the boards on the top cracked and splintered.
“Well… They.. they’re not dressed as travelers!” Stammering, the mayor tried to feebly offer a reason. “Travelers don’t come in such large numbers, they don’t ride horses trained for war, nor wear full-plate war gear! What else could they possibly be,” he asked, exasperated.
“How the hell should I know?” Glaring icily at the mayor, Lord Leonard yelled out. “Somebody fetch my damn steed! If no one here has the balls to see what the enemy at our gates want, then I’ll do it myself!”
“But My Lord, what if they take you hostage?!” The mayor cried out warningly.
Slowly. Calmly. With exaggerated deliberation, Lord Leonard pulled his chain glove from his hand, one finger at a time. Once it was off, he slowly folded it neatly, tucked it into the corner of his belt,
and then slammed a large meaty fist into the old mayor’s face. Bones crunched and the mayor dropped as if he’d been killed.
“I am no coward.” Curling his fingers into a fist, Leonard clenched his hand so hard the knuckles turned white. “The Flaming Lion of Gondor does not hide behind walls nor expect others to fight his battles for him. Should he fall, then he falls with honor! Should he fall, the whole wrath of the Lion’s Crown will descend relentlessly upon those that perpetrated such a crime.
“The Lion of Gondor is no man’s hostage.” Glaring at the crumpled mayor, Leonard wrinkled his nose and then spat on him, before he yelled out commandingly, “Sir Liam!”
“My Lord?” The old knight bowed his head to show he was present and attentive.
“The city is yours to hold and manage. This bastard…” Glancing down at the old mayor, Lord Leonard kicked him once to indicate whom he was speaking about. “… is not worthy of managing such a providence. Until My Lord Father can find someone suitable to replace him in his position, the city is yours. Manage it well.”
“Thy will be done, my lord.” Nodding his head, Sir Liam accepted the role as temporary city mayor with a slight sigh. Nothing but damn paperwork, headaches, and problems for him, until the king could appoint someone new. Gods willing, he was hoping that it wouldn’t take long.
Seeing Sir Liam was accepting and not going to argue over the position, Lord Leonard climbed atop his massive warhorse and held his hand out to the side. One of the naked banner holders quickly rushed up and handed him the pole he was holding. Starting at it, Lord Leonard muttered a secret command under his breath and the flag attached to the top instantly changed color to become a pure white, with a small dove embossed in the center of it -- the universal symbol of peace and non-violence.
