Squire of War

by M. H. Johnson

  Though their foes wore helms much like the slavers fought so recently, they had become strangely corroded; a bubbling mass of iron and rust, seeming to blend into the faces of the men they fought, if they could even be called men at all.

  “Jess!” Malek shouted as Jess knocked aside a charging assailant's blade before spinning around with deadly grace, intending to cleave her opponent's head from his body before suddenly tripping, her feet tangled in hideously writhing strands of pulsating flesh.

  Jess gasped and coughed, the air alive with the stink of blood, bile, and the sickly sweet stench of putrefying flesh.

  “Jess!”

  She heard a caustic hiss, understanding at once that the slime covering the tendrils was burning through greaves and boots.

  A cold bolt of panic filled her, realizing at once how perilous her position was.

  “Jess!” Her familiar, a streak of blackness, cleaving through tendrils pinning her faster than Jess could blink.

  Desperately Jess stumbled to her feet even as Mord roared, cleaving the head clean off the foe who had almost spelled her doom.

  The horror froze for some seconds before toppling at last. Jess noted the knots of flesh now pressing against the headless corpse. The way the hand still clenched its blade. A silvery bulge covered in mucus suddenly blossomed from the bloody stump of the fallen slaver's neck, blinking open a glistening eye swimming in awful, alien colors, hideous and strange.

  Jess began to keen.

  “Jess! Don't be a fool!”

  Twilight's caustic voice burned her fear with shame. she forced the horror down, forcing her blade in Ochs guard once more, point aimed for the throat of the nearest assailant, knowing that nothing was so foolish as freezing in combat. She lashed out with renewed fury as their enemies closed ranks around them, terror lending strength to her blows.

  Almost of its own accord Jess felt her body position itself beside Malek and Mord such that they all fought back to back, their movements in perfect concert, blades lashing out to cleave whipping tendrils from assailants' bodies before plunging in for the kill, the twisted corpses left in their wake shaking madly before sprouting horrid tendrils, dragging themselves towards Jess and her band even as they step-slid away, desperate not to get trapped between their cackling, howling foes and the hideous things slithering after them.

  "Burn in Hell!" Malek roared, plunging his blade through thick rawhide armor of their final human assailant as fast as Jess could blink before kicking the suddenly gasping man off his sword, sending his dying foe crashing into the awful mass of tendril infested corpses still slithering towards them.

  Jess shuddered as her heart pounded in her chest, never having felt such terror in the heat of battlefrenzy before.

  “By all the gods,” Malek cursed, gazing at the slithering monstrosities with undisguised horror. Jess gripped him before he tripped over his own feet.

  Mord alone appeared unaffected, frowning at the infested corpses before peering back at Jess, a curious smile lightening his features.

  “By all the gods, Mord, if you know something, tell us! Otherwise, let's get the hell out of here,” Jess hissed.

  To her disbelief, Mord slowly shook his head. “No need to let terror consume us. Look at how they shrivel and burn.”

  Jess swallowed and forced herself to look. Bodies of what now appeared long dead flesh had stopped slithering towards Jess. Silvery eyes covered in mucous blinked at her from eyestalks of twisted flesh and bone, sprouting atop the fallen slavers like hideous blossoms. And they were smoking. Writhing. Shriveling and blackening before Jess's very eyes.

  "By the Goddess herself!" Malek hissed even as Jess stumbled back, her blade trembling in hands she fiercely willed still, the hideous things now moving once more. Only this time, away from Jess and her companions, slithering back on desperately writhing tendrils leaving behind trails of mucus and blood, the foul stench of burning flesh sickening Jess as high-pitched shrieks cut through the air.

  Mord tilted his head. “Tell me, Jessica, how do you feel?”

  Jess swallowed and shuddered. “Horrible,” she whispered, before realizing it wasn't true.

  Horrified by what she had seen? Yes. Her guts roiled with the stench of burning flesh. But she felt strong. Strong as when they had first set out, fresh and ready for battle, not a trace of injury or weariness to slow her down.

  Malek's gaze was still locked upon the last of the writhing corpses before them, boiling away to ash and ichor as they watched. “Bloody hells, these slavers, these things... are they even human?”

  Jess took a deep shuddering breath, slowly shaking her head. “Gods above, Malek, your guess is as good as mine.”

  Mord's cold eyes locked upon them. "We enter a layer of black wizards. In a place such as this? Expect to find that horrors long relegated to faerie tales have an element of truth that few would dare to believe." His smile turned bitter. "Are you still willing to help me find Sable and cut down the bastards who threaten her, or will you run away with your tail between your legs, as every other coward out there did?"

  Malek's glare was hot and furious. “I don't care how much of an ass you are, Mord. So help me, none of these bastards are going to get away with hurting an innocent girl!”

  Mord flashed Malek a rare smile of agreement. "I think I see what my future bride sees in you, Malek. For all your faults, you are as fierce a killer as any knight could want by his side."

  Malek barked a mocking laugh. “Today alone I will take that as a compliment, Mord. Now cease your blather and let's find your cousin. And what the hell is she doing here, of all places, and now, of all times? Tell me that, why don't you, Mord?”

  Mord's gaze hardened and he just shook his head. "We are wasting time." He dashed down the staircase they had been heading toward, Jess and Malek just behind, a cursory glance showing Jess no other abominations ready to strike.

  The granite stairs seemed to spiral down endlessly before they finally ended in several inches of brackish water. Shrieks and gibbering howls could be heard echoing endlessly through decrepit corridors on all sides, the ceiling lit only by flickering green lights cast from no torch that Jess could see, and all was covered in sticky strands of webbing.

  "Bloody hells, is this some wizard's pit, or a spider's den?" Malek hissed, but did not hesitate to follow as a grim-faced Mord pressed forward, without saying a word.

  The corridor ahead branched off. Mad laughter and beastly howls could be heard from the left. From the right were panicked screams Jess recognized as Sable's own, mixed with the softer cries of what could only be a child. Perhaps even an infant.

  Jess felt her guts writhe in anxious knots, Malek's haunted eyes meeting her own. “This place is not right, Jess. Not right at all.”

  “Jess, look out!” Twilight cried.

  It was then they heard a strange chittering from behind.

  Jess ducked on pure instinct, sensing as much as seeing the strands of sticky fibers she had just barely dodged latch onto the stones by her feet. An abrupt wrench as the strand grew taught, the floor rupturing as cobblestone was pulled free, twisting back into the darkness.

  “Blood hells!” Malek shouted.

  “Kortar!” Mord cursed, and Jess felt her guts writhe to see her fiercest opponent wielding a black wand radiating darkest magics. Held so expertly in hands that to Jess's knowledge had never even bothered attempting to cast the simplest of spells. Yet the stream of ebony darkness roaring forth from the wand was expertly controlled, no shivers of power ricocheting through the chamber.

  Jess frowned, not sure how she sensed competence in an art she had never seen before, yet knowing somehow that it was true.

  She could feel weaves of darkest magic whip forth, strangely grateful that she could sense no trace of Mord's soul in the working.

  “Jess!” Strong hands abruptly gripped her shoulder, gently pulling her back. “What the hell is going on?” Malek snapped, turning his ire to Mord who gazed once in cold satisf
action.

  The hideous creature Jess likened to a spider scuttled back into a pool of shadows that seemed to stretch and bubble such that Jess stumbled back from the boiling cauldron of realms crashing upon her own.

  “That shouldn't be there!” Jess hissed.

  Mord turned to gaze at her, ill green light reflecting off eyes now shimmering like amber. “Are you all right, Jess? Do you feel heavy or sick? For now, we are truly entering the strange.” His gaze was fierce, yet more so, tender. He was worried.

  Jess grimaced, not wanting to see such in a man she feared dabbled in dark things indeed.

  “No, I feel fine,” she said, realizing the words were not empty bravado. For all that she had just survived the horrors of melee combat, for all that she knew she would later be tormented with memories of her lance bursting mail links, rupturing the lungs of men blinking with the strange wonder of death, her ears ringing with the cries of soldiers crumpling to her blows such that she wouldn't hear a word her professors said, refusing food even as Eloquin grimly commanded her to eat, unable to get the choking stink of blood out of her nostrils, in this moment she felt free of fatigue and horror both.

  If anything, she felt vibrant. As awake and alive as she had ever felt before, her limbs all but bursting with energy. Curiously, earlier pains had faded. Neither foot nor skull troubled her, for all that she had taken multiple blows to her helmet.

  “I'm fine, Mord. Fighting for one's life tends to leave one as sharp as can be. No doubt I'll feel all my bruises something awful after we get back. More importantly, what the hell was that, and what did you just do?”

  Mord flashed a bleak smile. "Whatever it was, it has retreated back into its layer. As for the tools I have at hand, it is much as your master would say: Use any weapon at your disposal, even your enemy's prizes, so long as it assures overwhelming victory against your foes."

  Jess frowned, but nodded. “Thank you for dispelling that... thing. I don't know what your game is, but you did me a good turn.”

  Mord's gaze flashed with sudden heat. "My game is saving Sable. She shouldn't even be here!" He immediately took off down the corridor, careful to stay in the absolute center, Jess catching sight of strange liquids bubbling down the brownstone walls before exploding into steam and foul vapors as they mingled with the pools of water lining each side of the corridor.

  Malek cursed and shook his head as they dashed after Mord. “A dozen questions I would ask, Jess. That wand, there is something strange about it, and never have I seen him in Master Rens's classes.”

  Jess shrugged as she fell into an easy stride. There was not even the dullest throb from her foot. Strange. “If Mord actually wants to play the hero, I won't question the shadows he would twist in service to our cause.”

  Malek frowned, but said no more on it.

  “Quiet! We are here.” Mord's fierce gaze locked with her own. “Jess, I know we have our sweet struggle to entertain us back at Highrock, but here as nowhere else, I must ask that you treat me with the same deference as you will your future husband.”

  Jess frowned at those words.

  “Jess, there is no time! You have to trust me, or Sable and Julia die!”

  Jess froze where she stood. Suddenly it all made sense.

  Malek's gaze hardened, gripping his sword hilt tightly. “Bloody hells, I knew it! Sable is your sister, and Julia your niece. And that amulet you both wear; you two are linked, somehow. The only way a modern mage could get such odd magics to work is if you are two halves of a whole. She's your twin, isn't she? What games are you playing at, Mord?”

  Mord flashed a bitter smile. “So many things I enjoy mocking you for, Malek, when we are not brothers in battle. But I will never call you a fool.” He turned to Jess. “Jess. It is important for you to trust me. You will hear things when we enter the chamber ahead. Things that might horrify you. What you need to do, Jess, is see me as an actor in a play. I am embracing a role, for the sake of Sable. Do you understand?”

  Malek chuckled softly. “Just like an Agent of the Crown. Dark and crooked are their methods, however enlightened they claim their goals. I won't say a damn word, Mord, for the sake of your sister.” His gaze took on a strange intensity. “I don't think I'll ever like you, Mord. You're a cruel bastard who enjoys taunting anyone you think beneath you. But on the field of battle, you always had our backs when it counted, and I will not forget that." Malek sighed. "The death of someone you love on your soul? I would spare you that horror, Mord. For if this is not some convoluted trap for which I will take great delight in running you through, saving Sable just might be the only thing that redeems you.”

  Jess hissed. If this were a trap, it was brilliant.

  Mord's desperate gaze locked upon her own. “Jess. Look into my eyes. I swear to you this is no trap against you.” He flashed a smile, bleak and cold. “There. Did you detect any malice? Do I seek to betray you? I was not lying when I said one day I would claim you as my wife, Jess.”

  Jess hissed and lurched away from that bitter smile. He knew. Somehow, Mord knew her secrets. He knew, at the very least, that she could sense a malicious lie when told to her face. Worse, he really did intend on marrying her. It wasn't enough that he had made her first year at Highrock a torment. She had never given in to his attempts to break her, and somehow, to his mind, that made his former nemesis the ultimate prize.

  Bloody hells.

  “Follow my lead,” Mord said, quickly making his way down the corridor to a doorway Jess could just make out through the strange vapors permeating the air, his step not that of a furtive explorer or furious knight, but that of the arrogant noble, exactly where he had every right to be.

  Jess couldn't help smiling as she saw Mord tuck his wand up the sleeve of his off hand, noting the brace of knives at the small of his back.

  Her nemesis had more than one trick up his sleeve, it seemed.

  Within moments they found themselves before a door of reinforced oak, the most horrific of rites carved upon its surface. Jess did her best not to peer at the images of ritual sacrifice too closely, focusing instead upon the two men frowning at them with yellowed eyes, as if they were tainted by foulest illness.

  “You know who I am,” Mord said to the two armored men lowering poleaxes in tandem. “Let me pass.”

  “Mord de Plaga,” one hissed. “You shouldn't be here!”

  The other snarled a curse, gazing balefully at Jess and Malek. “Why are they here? Their clans walk not the shadowy path.”

  Mord flashed a bleak smile. “Are you so sure, Dileck? Even you must know the rumors around the Calenbry clan. The secrets they hold close. And all know that Malek is a black sheep, blood of his own kin upon his hands.” He allowed himself a bleak chuckle, even as Malek trembled in horror and fury.

  Bloody hells. Mord knew it all.

  Almost negligently, he lifted his hand to Jess, who knew instantly the role she was to play, bowing her head deferentially as she came to Mord's side.

  Mord smiled triumphantly before glaring at the guardians before the door. “You know my place, Dileck. Your clan only prospers because my father saw fit to rescue you before you were all burned as witches, so poorly did you hide your rites.” The guards hissed and flinched at that. Mord's smile widened. “No matter. Father loves and forgives those who flock to his banner, and serve without question.”

  A defeated bow. “Very well, Lord Plaga, but I warn you, you will not like what you see.”

  Malek chuckled softly. “Don't be too sure of that, Dileck. You might be surprised, how far Plaga machinations spin.”

  Clenching Mord's hand softly and the sheathed hilt of her blade discretely, Jess felt the hairs on the nape of her neck rise as she passed the yellow-eyed men, yet they did no more than glower as the three of them entered a vast chamber of horrors, crimson lights flickering from eldritch flames crawling up the vast domed walls, scenes of horror and depravity depicted with almost lifelike detail upon murals arching many feet above them. A cath
edral to all that was dark and vile.

  And in the center, pinned and strapped to chairs of torment were seven naked souls, sobbing and begging for mercy. Many showed signs of torture and mutilation, and all of them had red sigils covering their bodies. All were strangers to Jess save for one, Sable herself.

  The girl who looked so much like Mord was a far cry from the exquisite beauty Jess had last seen only a handful of days ago, her flesh scoured and burned in dozens of places, her left arm visibly broken, horrific bruising and punctured flesh giving testament to the agony she had endured, even as she gazed up with what was still a heart-stoppingly beautiful face, curiously unmarked, staring at Mord's surprise entrance with utter disbelief, before breaking down into sobs.

  “Mord! They are going to kill Julia!”

  11

  Jess hissed, tearing her gaze from a desperate Sable to look upon the three dark wizards even at that moment placing a screaming infant upon an altar of obsidian. The child's flesh showed no signs of bruising, though crimson sigils had been carefully painted upon her skin.

  The frontmost of the robed men lowered his hood and smiled.

  “Mord de Plaga. It is fitting that you should arrive now, of all times, when your blasted fellows managed to ruin months of planning!" His mocking grin twisted at once into a furious scowl. "How by all the Hells below did they arrive here so soon? Deadfalls and ambush points were expected to weaken and harry those damned Squires, and you were to poison Hyve as pretext for a full-fledged retreat! We were not expecting sixty men in fighting prime to emerge completely unscathed, days ahead of schedule!"

  Those furious words rang through the chamber even as three ebony wands so very like Mord's were withdrawn as one. “Your sire's favored get you might be, but when he hears of this, when he understands all that your folly has cost us, he will know what must be done!”