Fallen Empire

by Keith McArdle

  Miriam jumped as a soft hand touched her shoulder.

  “It is fine, Miriam,” the Wiccan said. “Vyder is here with us, it’ll just take some time to adjust to this new man. Vyder lives, but he now occupies the same body as Gorgoroth.” Endessa gestured towards the supine body of her master, still holding her gaze. “Who is currently speaking?”

  “Gorgoroth is my name, little woman.” Gorgoroth exploded to his feet in one fluid movement to tower over them, bright blue eyes raking the three, analysing each for a moment before flicking to the next. “Remember it.”

  Endessa stepped towards Gorgoroth. “Do not seek to threaten those who helped you.”

  Gorgoroth darted behind Miriam and dragged her into him. A powerful arm wrapped around her throat, slowly cutting off her air supply. Miriam’s eyes bulged wide, and she struggled against the constricting grip, which threatened to end her life.

  Gorgoroth’s lips brushed her ear. “Perhaps I should start with this one.” The cruel voice sounded deafening at such close range.

  She clutched at the bound muscle of the forearm, which crushed her throat, but it was useless. She could no longer breathe, and the world began to fade.

  * * *

  Endessa watched the nature spirit grasp hold of Miriam, and even as Endessa moved towards them, the slave’s face began turning a bright shade of red.

  “Perhaps I should start with this one,” she heard the nature spirit say with a growl.

  “Gorgoroth, you shall not!”

  “Don’t presume to command me, Wiccan! I’ll do as I please.”

  With a shaking hand, Endessa untied a small leather pouch attached to the thin belt around her waist and pulled clear a fistful of black powder. She charged forward and began the Incantation of Unbinding in a wavering voice. Miriam’s eyes closed, and she slumped in the arms of Gorgoroth.

  Endessa threw the powder with all her strength, the dark mist clouding the air around Gorgoroth’s face. The nature spirit cursed, released the woman, stepped backwards, and covered his eyes with his hands, squatting to the floor, crying out in pain.

  Endessa strode forward and dropped to the ground beside Miriam.

  “How is she?” Griff’s terrified voice asked from a distant, dark corner of the cave.

  I’d forgotten about him!

  She leaned over the woman and could see she was still breathing. Pushing fingers into the soft flesh of her throat, Endessa felt the regular throbbing, which seemed only to be a privilege of a living body.

  “She lives,” muttered the Wiccan.

  * * *

  The Wiccan has blinded us!

  Vyder felt the pain in his eyes, but it was as if he was feeling it from a distance somehow. He’d been aware of what had happened but was powerless to stop it, try as he may.

  He felt anger warm him. Why would you try and kill someone who helped me?

  I told you. All humans are my enemy. I shall kill as many as I can before your body fails of old age.

  Not if I have anything to do with it, Gorgoroth! You have my word on that, laddie.

  Oh, the word of a human monkey. That’s something in which I can trust!

  Vyder felt the sarcasm in the venomous reply.

  Let me take care of this situation, Nature Spirit.

  Silence followed for several long moments.

  My wife is waiting for me at the other side of the Frost River. I want to be with her. Bear in mind, I can leave at any time I want, Nature Spirit. And if I do, you cease to exist in the physical realm, where your power seems to be increased beyond measure. Now if you want to hold onto that power, you’ll let me damn well deal with it.

  Silence again.

  Very well, little man. Have at it.

  Vyder felt as if he was suddenly starved of oxygen and swimming towards the surface of a deep lake. He ascended through the depths, and as he did, felt more in control, aware of his surroundings and acutely cognisant of the torture enveloping his eyes. Vyder felt his chest expand. He grinned and rose to his feet, ignoring the blistering agony beneath his eyelids. In truth, Vyder had no idea if he could simply walk away, but it sounded like a viable threat and Gorgoroth had taken it as such.

  “There’s more where that came from, Gorgoroth!” a female voice shouted nearby.

  Vyder rubbed his eyes and tried to open them, but apart from a dark blur, his vision remained non-existent.

  His grin widened as he took a second breath, enjoying the rush of air. “It is I, Wiccan. It is Vyder. Gorgoroth is gone. Well, for the time being, anyway.”

  He felt a small, powerful hand clasp his arm and steer him forward.

  “We need to rinse your eyes, Highlander.”

  After several halting steps, another hand pressed against his chest. “That’s far enough. Now kneel.”

  Vyder did so, strangely enjoying the stone beneath his knees.

  “Open your eyes as far as you can.”

  He obeyed, ignoring the burning sting spreading across his eyeballs. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Vyder flinched as he felt a bucket of water thrown straight onto his face. The water stung his eyes almost as much as the substance the Wiccan had used to blind Gorgoroth. But the pain soon subsided, and he blinked rapidly against the discomfort. His vision cleared faster than he expected and, within moments, he found himself looking at the Wiccan. She seemed relieved, as if she knew somehow Gorgoroth had departed.

  “I am Endessa, Vyder. Miriam asked me to help bring you back. Unfortunately, this was the only way it was possible.”

  “Miriam! Where is she?”

  “She lives.” Endessa pointed behind the assassin. “She is over there.”

  Vyder looked over his shoulder and saw the older woman who’d served him for so long, lying supine upon the cave floor.

  “What have you done, moron?”

  I failed, monkey, that’s what I did. I intended to kill her. And now that our eyes are clear once more, I’ll try again.

  “Like hell, you bastard! You can stay where you are. She has done nothing but help us! If you try one more time, I shall return to The Frost River, and my wife. I promise you, laddie, try one more time and you can return to the spirit world!”

  Gorgoroth did not reply. Surging to his feet, Vyder rushed to Miriam and dropped to the ground beside her.

  “Miriam!”

  He held a hand to her face, and grasped her shoulder firmly with the other. He shook her.

  “Miriam! Can you hear me?”

  She groaned, but her eyes remained closed.

  Vyder tapped her face with gentle persistence. “Miriam, it’s time to wake up.”

  Her eyes fluttered for a few moments, then opened. Her pupils rapidly constricted as they focused on his face, and her eyes widened in fear.

  “It’s fine, Miriam. It is I, Vyder. You’re safe.”

  Relief washed over her.

  She sighed. “You took your bloody time,” she mumbled.

  * * *

  Griff was not a man of combat. He’d never partaken in the discipline of the sword, spear or axe as a young man. Medicine had always been his passion. Helping people recover from injury or disease was where his heart truly lay. Much to the disappointment of his father, a retired officer of the Watch and a veteran of several pitched battles, where more than a thousand men had perished on each occasion. He’d told Griff about it once when he’d consumed too much ale and could no longer stand, but the young, would-be doctor blocked out his father’s recollection. He’d always wanted to help wounded recover, not listen to how death had claimed them. As far as he was concerned, he was death’s enemy. If his skills could prolong life, he’d succeeded, although sometimes they were too far gone. He glanced at Vyder. Sometimes, conventional medicine was not enough.

  Terror had filled him when Vyder had regained consciousness, however. Griff had scuttled into a dark corner of the cave. The giant assassin, with blazing blue eyes, had lifted Miriam off the flo
or, an arm wrapped around her throat. He’d strangled her. Griff had wanted to help. Truly. He’d wanted to dart forward and distract the highlander, punch him in the face, slap at his arms, kick him in the groin. But Griff had sunk to his haunches, instead, and placed a loose fist in his mouth as hope began to flee his being. He’d watched the woman go limp and stared, helpless, as Endessa intervened.

  The highlander had crouched to the floor, clawing at his eyes, and then something inexplicable happened. The assassin somehow changed.

  Had his body changed? Griff tutted to himself. Of course not! But the man’s demeanour had altered, his body language morphing into another. Griff paused as he thought of the right word. He continued to watch Vyder crouched over Miriam. Being? No. Man? Not necessarily. Personality? Yes! Personality, that’s the word I was searching for.

  The cruel, deep voice melted away to be replaced by a thick, highland accent and, somehow, through some unspoken law, which for some reason Griff seemed familiar, he knew he was safe from harm. The tall assassin would do him no harm.

  He stepped forward out of the shadows and padded forward. Endessa turned to him as he advanced.

  “Oh, so nice of you to join us, Doctor. Thanks for your help back there!”

  “I’m sorry, Endessa, it’s just that, well, it’s just—”

  “Shut up!”

  He moved around the Wiccan and knelt beside Miriam. He looked up into Vyder’s face. Gone were the blue orbs, replaced with dark eyes, a trait common to many highland people. The iris was almost as black as the pupil itself, giving them a piercing look, even if it was unintentional. Vyder nodded at him once, then looked away, returning his attention to the woman lying at his feet.

  “Griff, it’s good to see you,” the soft voice was almost inaudible.

  It took him a moment to realise it was Miriam who spoke. He smiled down at her.

  “You too! How do you feel?”

  “A bit of a sore throat.” She touched her neck where the skin was red. “But otherwise fine.”

  “I’m sorry for that, Miriam,” said Vyder, staring at the stone floor of the cave.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Griff replied. “I saw what happened. That thing took over your body. It wasn’t you who tried to…”

  He stopped talking as he juggled what he wanted to say without causing offence.

  “Kill Miriam?” Vyder finished for him. “Kind words, lad, but you’re wrong, it was partly my fault for losing control to Gorgoroth. It shan’t happen again.”

  Griff nodded but remained silent. Returning his attention to Miriam, he smiled once more. “Come! Let us get you to your feet.”

  He took one hand and Vyder clasped the other. They helped the woman to her feet. She brushed herself off and threw herself into Vyder’s arms.

  * * *

  “It’s good to have you back!” she spoke into her master’s chest. He was more like a son to her than a master.

  “You died, Vyder. Endessa brought you back from the other side.”

  “Barely,” the Wiccan said.

  She pulled away from the tall highlander and looked up into his face.

  “I was with Verone. She was there, waiting for me, Miriam!” His shoulders slumped and he stared at the ground, then his eyes closed. “I want to go back. I want to be with my wife.” His eyelids parted and he looked up at her. “My time here is done, Miriam.”

  “I’m sorry, Vyder, I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want you to die. I also know the importance of your mission. My father once spoke of the war between the Wendurlund and Huronian kingdoms when he was a young man. Some of the stories he told were horrible. Such massive loss of life. I don’t want that to happen ever again.”

  He sighed. “I know,” he said finally. “I understand that.” He smiled. “My thanks for your help. You too, boy.” He turned to Endessa. “And to you, thank you for breathing life back into me. At least long enough for me to finish the mission.”

  “Gorgoroth is the one who brought you back. It is he you should thank.” Endessa turned away and spat on the floor before hobbling to the fire.

  Miriam gestured to the wagon only just visible from the darker recess of the cave in which it was parked. “Let’s go home.”

  Vyder nodded and took a single faltering step. Stamping his feet upon the floor as if reacquainting himself with the physical form, he took another few steps. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long while. I feel like I could sleep for a bloody month.”

  “You head to the wagon, Vyder. I’ll be there shortly.” Miriam walked over to the fireplace in front of which Endessa, squatted, prodding a steel poker amongst the glowing coals. “What do we owe you for your services, Endessa?”

  The Wiccan paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Owe me?”

  “Payment. What are your charges?”

  Endessa chuckled and turned back to the fire. “Money is of no use to me, child. I have all I need right here. Your doctor friend will want payment though, I suspect. I have a condition, though.”

  Miriam remained silent and waited for Endessa to speak.

  “I will accompany you. For a time, at least, so I can school Vyder in the ways of Gorgoroth and how to live with him.”

  “Of course, you are welcome!”

  Endessa remained staring into the fire. “I shall be with you presently.”

  Miriam nodded, looking into the fire. The face of a demon manifested amongst the flames. Red eyes stared at Endessa. Tusks lined each side of its mouth. The thing spoke, but Miriam heard no words. As its mouth moved, flames burst from the fang-filled maw.

  She stepped back, her mouth dropped open and black tendrils of terror wrapped her in their tight embrace. What the hell is that thing?

  Endessa chuckled to herself, muttering a few words Miriam could not hear. She turned away from the Wiccan.

  I’m losing my mind.

  * * *

  Vyder walked to the wagon, the streams of dried blood, which had flowed down the wooden edges and onto the large wheels was not lost on him. Miriam and Griff had gone to enormous length to bring him here to the Wiccan’s cave. He heard a nearby snort. There was movement from within the shadows. Taking a step back, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A horse moving toward him. The animal’s coat glistened in the dull light. It was familiar.

  “Storm!” Vyder smiled wide enough that his cheeks ached. “Bloody animal!”

  He took its muzzle in his hands, stroking the soft nose. He touched his forehead to the area of skin between Storm’s eyes.

  “You helped save me, too, lass.”

  The horse nuzzled his face gently, soft, warm air passing across his face as the animal sniffed him.

  It has been a long while since I’ve seen a horse!

  The voice in his mind took him by surprise, and he suddenly felt as if he was sinking beneath the surface of a vast ocean.

  Gorgoroth, stay where you are! You have no power over me!

  Harsh chuckles exploded in his mind. Oh, do I not? Watch me!

  Down Vyder sank into a dark abyss, vaguely aware of his body but no longer in control. He fought up towards the surface, but an unseen power held him at bay.

  I think not, little man. My turn for a while.

  Storm flinched and turned to run but seemed to relax within moments. The animal faced the man who stood before him.

  “Storm, my daughter,” Gorgoroth said, placing a soft hand upon the horse’s head. “There is nothing to fear from me. I shall never harm you.”

  The woman and little doctor man have taken care of her.

  He took a few steps so he was standing at Storm’s shoulder and placed his palm upon the upper flank. He felt the large rib cage beneath the skin and the mighty beat of Storm’s heart within.

  She is healthy, well-rested, cared for. Content.

  “This is good.” He patted the horse’s rump. “Yes this is very good. Certainly not what I expected. The hum
an monkeys are usually such destructive creatures. It is pleasant to find an animal cared for in such a way.”

  Storm nuzzled his chest. He stroked the animal’s face and enjoyed the warmth of Storm’s breath. The horse looked at the wagon before nuzzling his chest again.

  “Time to leave, you think?” Storm pushed against him gently. He chuckled. “Well, in that case, let’s get your harness in place.”

  Do you even know how to fix the harness in place, Gorgoroth?

  Gorgoroth laughed. Storm’s ears swept forward at the sudden noise. She stared at him, dark, alert eyes boring into Gorgoroth.

  “Of course I do, human, I was around before the wheel was even invented.”

  We’ll see.

  “We’ll see, indeed,” Gorgoroth muttered. He deftly fixed the harness in place with confidence and, before long, Storm was attached to the wagon. She stamped her hoof upon the cave floor.

  “Patience, my girl.” Gorgoroth stroked the powerful neck, and the animal visibly relaxed.

  “We’re ready to go I think, Vyder,” a female voice spoke from behind him.

  Gorgoroth turned to the short, frumpy woman. She flinched and stumbled backward, almost losing her balance. The woman screamed before turning and running away towards Endessa in the near distance.

  Gorgoroth held out his hands. “What?”

  Endessa hobbled toward him. She held up both hands and began to chant. The power of the words hit him like a wall and he found himself in a seated position, glaring up at the approaching witch. He bunched his legs beneath him but all power seemed to have fled his muscles. Endessa reached into the pouch at her belt and her hand came out clutching a fistful of black powder.

  “Remember this?” the witch shook her fist at him, tiny tendrils of powder sifting through her fingers to drift the ground.

  Dismay spread through Gorgoroth. “Aye. I do.”

  He felt more constricted in the physical form than he thought possible. He was expecting to be as free as a bird, slaughtering humans when and where he saw fit. This will be more difficult than I imagined. Especially in the presence of the little Wiccan standing before me.