The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

  “Well, well Mr Styx. I have to say when you first came here, I doubted your credentials. Now I am faced with this surprising development.” Malum indicated the satchel, causing Kerian to swallow nervously again, his throat suddenly, painfully, dry. The knight’s eyes darted nervously about the room, searching for anything that he could use to get himself out of this situation. He needed something to go his way for once.

  Octavian was sadly oblivious to his predicament and was instead intently scraping at the bottom of his wife’s casket. There was no knife near to hand, even if he could lift his arm to wield one. No way of distracting the creatures on either side of him without losing several fingers. He had run out of reasons and his time for stalling was over. Kerian slowly drew back a boot, intent on at least kicking out at something when the time came, whilst wondering why there was never a stray cat around when you needed one.

  “I have to say this is not what I expected at all.” Malum said slowly, emphasising every word as he shook his head from side to side. “How do you manage to do this? It is really quite incredible. Although I must confess this is not a currency that I am used to dealing with.”

  Kerian went to open his mouth, to joke one last time that the exchange rate for a bag of nothing was probably more valuable in Wellruff right now, or that maybe the bag was a high fashion item in Catterick and was therefore worth more money than it looked like, then resigned himself to the fact that his charade was over.

  Malum slowly lifted his hand and inserted it carefully into the open satchel, before starting to rummage around inside. He pulled out a golden circular brooch with tiny rows of sapphires and diamonds rising up like a fountain of water on the front.

  Kerian’s mouth dropped open in surprise, just as Malum returned to the magical bag and extracted a small golden statue, a short dagger and a bronze goblet, placing them reverently on the table, his eyes gleaming with avarice, as a low gleeful chuckle issued from his pale lips.

  “Where did you get all of these treasures from?” Malum gushed. “And this bag, wherever did you get such a wonderful satchel?” Kerian suddenly remembered where the unexpected treasures had come from. An image sprang to mind of Octavian scrabbling amongst broken crates that had fallen from the burial ship in the lost city of Tahl Avan. Oh Octavian, if he were not a dog right now, Kerian could have hugged him but time was short and Kerian recognised a slim advantage when he saw one. A plan of sorts started to form in his mind and he smiled.

  “They are just a small sample from my own collection.” Kerian replied, deciding to take the chance whilst it was offered. “You can keep everything from the bag if you wish but Octavian goes free, his wife and daughter get a proper burial and I’m afraid I keep the satchel.” It was time to see how far he could push the scientist.

  Malum looked down at the treasures on the table, his face clearly displaying the turmoil about responding to such demands, then weighed it all against the value of the items laid before him and the glittering jewels still waiting to be removed from the bag. He reached his hand over to the satchel and started to push it about the table, clearly conflicted.

  “But I want the satchel.” Malum finally responded getting to his feet and stamping the floor, much like a spoilt child. “Somehow it was not heavy, despite all of these wonders, yet when I squash it, it doesn’t feel as if there is anything inside, despite the fact there are still so many treasures within. I want to know how it works. I need to know how it works.”

  “It is quite unique.” Kerian admitted, nodding his head. “That is why I find it so useful to transport my wares. However, this bag has sentimental value and I could never part with it.” The knight looked up at Malum and stared intently, knowing he had baited the hook but was yet to reel the scientist in. It was time to apply the pressure. After all, he had nothing to lose. The scientist’s look of longing turned instantly into a thunderous frown. He lifted the flap on the satchel, toying with it, then moved to close the bag.

  “I would not do that, if I were you.” Kerian warned, mentally twitching his fishing line and teasing his opponent to bite. “I think it is time you released Octavian and myself and let us go on our way.”

  “You are not in a position to make demands.” Malum screamed. “This is my home, this is my laboratory and as this satchel is in my home it becomes mine by right.” Kerian continued to meet the scientist’s fearsome gaze, not daring to flinch. This was going to be the gamble of his life.

  “I warn you. If you close that bag our negotiation is over. I will not permit you any more treasure.” Kerian stated, his tone adding a threat to his words. “My reputation is not only based on how reliable I am. I have powers the like of which you could never imagine and that satchel only answers to me.”

  “Powers… Oh of course you have.” The scientist laughed, theatrically flicking one long finger and allowing the flap to flop shut. “You can make this bag do whatever you want, even though you are sitting over there. I think not. However, you are right about one thing. Our negotiation is indeed over. Agnezkia, please silence our impertinent guest.”

  “By the dark shades of El Defensor and the evil spirits of Commagin,” Kerian shouted dramatically. “I command you demons… transport my treasures away.” He nodded his head for dramatic effect, mainly because his hands were currently occupied doing chimera dental examinations and stamped his boot to give emphasis to his words, all the time thinking Colette would be splitting her sides laughing if she could see him right now.

  Agnezkia growled, licking her lips expectantly as she stalked slowly across the floor towards him, her rear legs tensing ready to pounce. Malum looked down at his pet, then about the room with his mouth open and his eyes wide as if expecting something magical to occur then when nothing happened, he turned back to Kerian with a superior smirk and a cold look in his eye.

  “Your treasures are still on the table.” He stated coldly. “You never had any magical powers. If you had, you would never have let my hounds hold you so easily. I’m going to let Agnezkia take her time with you.”

  “Are you so sure?” Kerian replied mysteriously, trying not to react to the sleek death advancing towards him. “I don’t remember saying anything about the items on the table.” He stared at Malum, not daring to break his intense gaze and hoping that something in his stare would give the scientist food for thought, whilst inside he was mentally crossing his toes and fingers and praying the satchel would remain true to its stubborn nature.

  “You bore me.” Malum dismissed him with an outstretched hand, then turned and opened the satchel to gloat over his new treasures once more.

  “No!” He muttered, his hand delving into the bag and coming up empty. “No, no, no!”

  Kerian smiled darkly. No more would he simply react to things happening about him. It was time to take charge. The mysterious Styx was back! It was like an old battle cloak that always kept the wind and rain away; slightly musty in nature but comforting and warm in all the right places. His fish was now wriggling furiously on the line.

  Malum’s eyes narrowed, his face flushed and he stormed over towards Kerian, bag in hand, angrily pushing Agnezkia aside, just as she rushed to take a bite from Kerian’s leg.

  “Make them come back!” Malum demanded. “Bring back my treasures or I shall have my hounds rip out your throat right now.”

  “Go ahead.” Kerian replied calmly. “But if you do, the bag will never reveal its secrets to you. It answers only to me and I no longer wish to give you any of my wealth unless you release me.” The knight tried not to smile as his host struggled with this unexpected reversal. He clearly wanted to kill Kerian, it was written all over his twisted face but he wanted what was in the satchel more. If he ordered his hounds to kill and then found out that what Kerian said was true, he would never gain another treasure from the bag. Kerian was confident that if the state of the castle matched the state of the scientist’s funds then this scenario would not be an option Malum would pursue.

/>   “Aargh!” Malum screamed, dropping the satchel to the floor and kicking it under the table in frustration. “Can we re-negotiate? Maybe start over. Clearly, we have both got off on the wrong foot. Perhaps we can address this matter further over dinner.”

  Kerian allowed himself a smug grin then gestured to his hands.

  “Oh, of course, please forgive me.” Malum smiled, his awful dental problems appearing through his tight-lipped attempt of a smile. “I’m so sorry.” He clicked his fingers and the two hounds released Kerian’s arms causing pins and needles to rush painfully into the knight’s fingers.

  “That’s much better.” Kerian replied, getting carefully to his feet, trying to hide the tremble running through his limbs. He moved away from the chair, purposefully walking around the table, taking the time to dry his hands on one of the napkins and carefully examine his wrists and hands. Relief flooded through him when he noticed his skin had not been broken. He picked a set place where he could have the large window at his back and the rest of the room open and visible before him, then lowered himself into the chair. Kerian hooked the satchel with his boot, drawing it across the floor and near to his side before he looked up at Malum and rested his chin on his bridged hands.

  “So, what’s on the menu?” Styx asked.

  * * * * * *

  “You cannot come in without a ticket.” The hulking Minotaur remarked, snorting his disgust that the ragtag group of humans before him would even consider trying to gain access to the great pyramid. “Seating is for those of a higher standing in Taurean society and by the look of the three of you, I believe you all fall considerably beneath that mark. Now be gone before I forget I’m in a good mood.” He snorted again for emphasis, his black and white fur bristling and his golden nose ring swinging as he moved his enormous head.

  Thomas looked down at his travel stained clothing, taking in his attire and nodding his agreement, before turning to Weyn and Mathius and beholding similar dishevelled individuals. All three resembled having been pulled through a hedge backwards whilst traversing the angry crowds situated around the labyrinth. It was times like this he wished he had the same ‘access to all areas’ given by his police badge back in his previous existence.

  “He appears to have taken offence at our appearance.” The captain confirmed. “Apparently if he lets us in, he is concerned we will lower the tone of the establishment and upset its ambience. I have asked him politely several times and he is not for changing his mind.”

  The Minotaur guard frowned, struggling to overhear from the noise and not sure if he had just been insulted or not.

  “Maybe we should just stop being polite?” Mathius replied, clearly frustrated. “I mean, what right does he have in saying we don’t belong inside where all the fun is?”

  “I hardly think it’s fair, judging us on our attire. I’ll have you know I have dined with royalty.” Weyn replied, his face pouting from the insult before he looked down at the guard’s feet. “At least we aren’t wearing sandals!”

  “Sandals!” The Minotaur growled. “I’ll have you know these are grade A military issue boots.”

  “Of course they are.” Thomas replied, holding his hands up as the guard reached for the sword at his side. He rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards the two men behind him suggesting they did not mean what they said, then looked down. “…Although I can see their point.”

  “What do you mean.” The guard snapped his hand releasing the hilt of his sword as he bent over to take a look and found to no surprise that his feet were within highly polished, military issue footwear. He looked up again snorting his hostility at their childish remarks, only to find a bright shiny dagger tip pointed right between his eyes. Before the guard could back away, Thomas snatched one arm, Weyn snatched the other and Mathius, still holding his dagger steady, yanked down on the nose ring bringing tears to the guard’s eyes. The guard looked at the hovering blade cross eyed and froze.

  “I think you need to reconsider our entrance request.” Mathius stated coldly. “I think you need to reconsider it most carefully. Do you agree?” The Minotaur bobbed his head as Mathius pulled on the ring causing further tears to run down the guard’s face.

  “You see, I told you he would understand.” Weyn remarked smiling. “What an excellent guard this Minotaur is. I knew it all had to be some terrible mistake.”

  “I’m terribly sorry.” Thomas shook his head. “I tried to be nice. I really did.”

  “Stay there and be quiet.” Mathius hissed into the guard’s ear. “In a few minutes stand up and forget we were ever here. Just remember we will be watching you and my friend Weyn here can hit a bull’s eye at 100 yards with his bow. I don’t suppose you have preference which one he should take out first?” The assassin tapped the Minotaur lightly on the nose, then waved his dagger once more in a threatening manner before easing backwards through the doorway and into the pyramid proper.

  “It’s called a gold.” Weyn whispered in the assassin’s ear. “Not a bull’s eye.”

  “Does it matter.” Mathius shouted, craning his neck up to take in the throng of cheering spectators crammed into the seating inside the huge torch lit arena. “Dear lord how are we going to find anyone in here?”

  “Kristoph, Kristoph!” the crowd chanted, people screaming and pointing at several small figures struggling right at the very top of the golden staircase.

  “I’ll give you one guess.” Thomas replied, noting the darting figure of a little black and white bird as it swooped up into the ornate lattice of an orb situated in the roof high above.

  “The stairs are over there.” Mathius pointed to a series of steps hewn into the walls that went up and up into the heavens.

  Thomas found his own gaze rising with the steps, his head moving backwards and forwards as if he were watching a tennis match, his mind counting the switchbacks and balking at the thought of what he would need to do.

  “There’s never an elevator around when you need one.” He muttered threading his way through the cheering crowd.

  Someone screamed from high above and a body wrapped in a crimson cloak crashed to the floor.

  “It’s okay.” Weyn shouted back to his companions. “Don’t panic. It wasn’t Rauph.”

  “You know who that guard reminded me of?” Mathius shouted over the din. “The landlord of the Bloated Badger. He never wanted to let us in either.”

  “With good reason!” Thomas replied. “We burnt his inn down.”

  “I’ve noticed that happens a lot with your crew.” Weyn replied, squeezing between several unruly spectators. “I remember it was a bit of a dump. Back in Dodderington if I remember. You know, I still don’t recall why it was the Bloated Badger.”

  “Oh that one’s easy.” Thomas shouted back. “He said he wanted to name the place after something you always find at the side of the road.”

  * * * * * *

  Commagin brought the eyeglass up and scanned the coastline ahead, looking for a suitable place to drop anchor and await the return of Thomas and the remainder of the crew. The sails of the El Defensor snapped in the evening wind rising from the bay, the galleon surging through the water, her passage as smooth as her decks.

  The Dwarven engineer allowed himself a brief moment of a smile, feeling the vibration of the ship thrumming through the helm beneath his fingers and the breeze whipping at his beard. He realised that he never felt more alive or proud than he did right now. Sure, this ship needed a crew to man her but she ran this smoothly because of her engineer.

  He watched the sun slowly sinking behind the mountains, turning the cobalt waters into a darker velvet as they sailed into the shadows and noted the torches flickering into light, one after another along the cliff face ahead. The pyramid already glowed with all of the torches set about it and the roar of the crowd reached his ears even over the creaking sounds of the ship.

  “Kristoph, Kristoph!”

  Commagin grinned. He recognised th
at the spectators were calling Rauph’s name as known on Taurean. He also knew that it was a bad idea to think that Rauph was as stupid as he acted. Rauph had proved repeatedly that you underestimated him at your peril. Someone, somewhere was no doubt finding that out, to their cost.

  “Where are we going?” A voice enquired at his shoulder.

  The engineer started, not realising someone was standing so close. He turned to find a hooded figure beside him and it took him a moment to realise that the black coloured robes the man wore were actually blue and that he also held a large book clasped tightly under his arm.

  “Oh Brother Richard. What brings you up on deck at this hour. Are you tired of all your studying?”

  “I shall never tire from learning the mystical arts.” Richard replied mysteriously, staring off into space. “I just needed some air.”

  “Well it is fortunate I found you.” The engineer continued. “Marcus is unwell and Violetta is trying to help with what ails him. Do you think you could offer your expertise and opinion? He is a delightful young man and I would hate for something serious to be happening to him.”

  Richard looked over at the Dwarf and for a second Commagin thought he could have sworn he saw the priest smile. The engineer suddenly felt cold and took a small step instinctively backwards.

  “Well that is terrible news.” Richard replied after a long moment of silence. “I shall indeed look in on him when I have finished my walk about the deck.”

  “Can’t you look at him now?” Commagin asked raising one hairy eyebrow as he asked. “I understand he is really unwell.”

  “I shall see what I can do.” Richard stated. “Good evening to you.” The priest set off across the deck and descended the ladder to the lower deck, not looking back once but not hurrying either.