Sevenfold Sword

by Jonathan Moeller

  Somehow it had gone all wrong, horribly wrong.

  Something else penetrated the agony filling his mind.

  The abscondamni had abandoned the fight and were rushing towards Ridmark. Rypheus felt his teeth bare in a snarl. Yes, that was good. Ridmark had wounded their master, and they would tear him apart. Even the Shield Knight could not fight off every single abscondamni in the hall at once.

  The abscondamni ran past Ridmark, arms outstretched. That didn’t make any sense. Why weren’t they attacking him? They hadn’t even looked at the Shield Knight

  Instead, they were converging on Rypheus.

  He didn't understand. Were they coming to protect him? But he had instructed them to kill everyone in the hall. Why rush towards him? Why reach for him with their skinless, bloody hands?

  Why stare at him with their burning yellow eyes?

  The realization forced its way into his pain-choked mind.

  The abscondamni had been his followers and allies until he had used the power the Sign to twist them into the Accursed. The magic of the Sign had dominated and controlled them…and now the Sign lay with his severed left hand in a small pool of blood.

  It seemed the abscondamni had not forgiven him for their transformation.

  Rypheus cast aside his sword and reached for the Sign with his remaining hand, but the loss of blood had made him dizzy, and he stumbled and fell to one knee.

  The abscondamni fell upon him like an avalanche.

  A dozen slammed into Rypheus, driving him to the floor. He just had time to realize that their bloody bodies felt hideously hot to the touch, and then the acidic slime started eating into his skin.

  That made the agony of his severed hand seem mild by comparison.

  Rypheus screamed as the acid washed over him, screamed as they ripped away his clothes and dug into his flesh, screamed until they forced fingers into his mouth and the pain spread into his chest, and he could no longer breathe.

  ###

  Prince Rypheus collapsed beneath the press of the Accursed, and Calliande flung a spell. A shaft of white fire cut across the abscondamni and the creatures reared back. Ridmark attacked, hacking at the abscondamni, and the Accursed retreated to reveal the twisted remains of Rypheus Pendragon.

  To judge from the horrified expression on the remnants of his face, he had not died peacefully.

  With the Prince’s death, a ripple went through the abscondamni, and they lost much of their ferocity. They continued attacking, but in clusters of three and four, and the Arcanii and the jotunmiri cut them down with ease. Ridmark was shouting instructions to the knights and the jotunmiri, and Calliande started thinking about the next steps.

  Ridmark or Earl Vimroghast or Master Nicion or someone would have to take charge of Aenesium until King Hektor awoke. If Rypheus had coordinated his murderous treachery with someone outside the city, this would be an ideal time for a surprise attack on Aenesium. But when King Hektor awoke, he might not be in a fit state to do anything. God only knew what the shock of grief and treachery would do to him. Unless Calliande missed her guess, Rypheus had been his favorite son.

  For that matter, Calliande had seen Queen Adrastea’s corpse upon the dais. The sight filled Calliande with sorrow – Adrastea had only been trying to do what she thought best for Kalussa, and she had been kind to Calliande, providing her with the dress and jewels she now wore.

  Losing his wife and his heir and God only knew how many of his children in a single day – what would that do to Hektor Pendragon?

  Calliande would have to worry about it later. Right now, she needed to help the fighters finish off the abscondamni. And then she would have to turn her attention to healing the wounded. God and the saints, there were so many wounded. And those acid burns would be brutal to heal. Burns were some of the most painful injuries, and Calliande would have to take the pain of those injuries into herself over and over again.

  Well, she had done it before, and she could do it again.

  She started a spell, and then magic surged before her Sight.

  Startled, Calliande looked to the right. The surge of power came from the balcony overlooking the great hall. Someone stood there, a figure that had appeared out of nowhere or been hidden beneath a powerful spell of concealment. It was an undead orc, seven feet tall, clad in an elaborate crimson robe.

  It was the Maledictus Khurazalin.

  A medallion rested against his chest, identical to the ones that Rypheus and Qazaldhar had carried, the black metal stark against his crimson robe.

  In his right hand…

  Calliande blinked.

  In his right hand, Khurazalin carried a weapon of magical power.

  Calliande had never seen anything like it with her Sight. It was a long staff of dark metal, its end topped with a large blue crystal that looked like a misshapen, uncut diamond. Powerful magic blazed within the weapon, not dark magic but some potent fusion of the magic of elemental air and elemental earth.

  In his left hand, dark magic gathered.

  Khurazalin was looking right at Ridmark.

  “Ridmark!” shouted Calliande.

  ***

  Chapter 23: Diamonds Cut Forever

  Ridmark killed another abscondamnius, and Calliande’s cry rang over the hall.

  He turned, looking to see if she was under attack, but she stood safely behind the line of jotunmiri and Arcanii. She was looking at the balcony on the right, and Ridmark turned his head.

  A flare of blue light came to his eye.

  He glimpsed Khurazalin, saw the Maledictus standing at the edge of the balcony. A staff of dark metal and blue crystal rested in his right hand, and in his left hand gathered shadows and blue fire, the same spell he had used at Castra Chaeldon.

  On reflex, Ridmark raised Oathshield, and that reflex saved his life.

  Khurazalin hurled a lance of shadow and blue fire, one far stronger than the spell Rypheus had used. Oathshield flared with white fire in Ridmark’s hands, and he caught the lance of dark magic upon the soulblade. The impact knocked him back, but he caught his balance and the dark magic unraveled.

  The Maledictus began casting another spell.

  ###

  Tamlin saw the crimson-robed figure upon the balcony, and rage burned through him.

  He would have recognized Khurazalin anywhere.

  He had killed the Maledictus at Urd Maelwyn, but Khurazalin had returned from death as an undead horror. Tamlin had stopped Khurazalin from killing Ridmark at Castra Chaeldon, but the Maledictus had fled in the same fashion as Qazaldhar, transforming into a wraith and passing through the walls and out of sight.

  This time, Tamlin vowed, Khurazalin would not get away. He would not escape justice for his crimes. The blood of all the innocent men and women slain in the great hall rested upon the hands of Rypheus Pendragon, but someone had seduced Rypheus to the path of darkness, and Tamlin had no doubt it was the Maledictus Khurazalin, the murderer of Tysia.

  Suddenly Tamlin forgot all about his exhaustion.

  Magic came in answer to his fury. He lifted his free hand, focusing his mind and power, and a lightning bolt leaped from his fingers. Around him, the other Arcanii threw their own spells at the Maledictus. Kalussa hurled another fiery bolt, and Calliande cast a shaft of white fire.

  But Khurazalin finished his spell first.

  The Maledictus vanished from the balcony in a swirl of darkness.

  Shadows flickered, and Khurazalin reappeared atop the dais, hovering a few inches atop the floor, the strange staff still in hand.

  His magic had transported him there in the blink of an eye.

  Ridmark advanced towards him, Oathshield in hand, and Tamlin hurried to join the Shield Knight.

  ###

  Calliande drew together power for another spell, white fire crackling around her fingers.

  She had thought the crystal in Khurazalin’s staff was a soulstone, but it couldn’t have been. Anyone holding a soulstone could not transport themselves through m
agic. Well, Rhodruthain had, but it had taken a colossal amount of power, and the Guardian of Cathair Animus had made a botch of it, scattering Ridmark and Calliande and the children across the hills south of Castra Chaeldon.

  Besides, the crystal didn’t look like a soulstone to her Sight.

  But whatever it was, it was powerful.

  “Shield Knight!” called Khurazalin as Ridmark approached. Tamlin hurried to join him, his face a mask of rage, and Kyralion and Aegeus hurried after him. “I congratulate you on your victory. I confess I expected Prince Rypheus to overcome you.”

  “Did you, now?” said Ridmark. “It seems your trust was misplaced.”

  “Indeed, it was,” said Khurazalin. His voice was still calm and smooth and collected, despite his desiccated appearance and motionless jaws, just as it had been at Castra Chaeldon. “I fear that Prince Rypheus proved somewhat…unstable. The plan went entirely wrong, and he placed too much faith in the Sign of the New God I had given to him. Cutting away the hand that held that Sign, that was clever.”

  “Do not bandy poisoned words with us, murderer,” spat Tamlin, coming to Ridmark’s side. Lightning played around his left hand. “You corrupted him with your lies, did you not?”

  “Oh, I did,” said Khurazalin. “I admit it freely. I have planned this moment for years. It was quite easy to turn Rypheus against his family. So resentful of his father! He hated him for remarrying after his mother died. Alas, I fear the Prince was just a little too attached to his mother.”

  “Then the plan was to have him assassinate King Hektor, cast the blame elsewhere, claim the throne of Aenesium, and work for you cause,” said Ridmark. “It seems to have gone awry.”

  “It has,” agreed Khurazalin, “and the blame belongs to you and your wife. No matter, though. A subverted Aenesium would have been useful, but a broken and crippled one will serve our purposes just as well. Especially since no one in this hall will survive the next hour.”

  “A bold claim,” said Ridmark, “seeing as we are many and you are but one.”

  “That staff…” said Nicion.

  Calliande turned her head. The Master of the Arcanii stood a short distance from her, arcane power glowing around him to her Sight. His magic had destroyed dozens of the abscondamni in the battle, his sour expression never wavering. Now he looked shocked, even horrified.

  “Ah, Master Nicion,” said Khurazalin. Somehow the Maledictus had heard him. “I see you survived. The last one of Talitha’s little pets, are you? But you were the loyal one, the one who did not cast his lot in with the scheming Rhodruthain. Talitha died for her treachery, and Cavilius and Taerdyn betrayed the High King and claimed two of the Seven Swords. But dour Nicion stayed loyal…and in exchange for your loyalty, you’re about to die.” He gestured with the staff. “Do you remember this?”

  “It’s called the Staff of Blades,” said Nicion to Calliande, his voice urgent. “The Sovereign carried it in his final battle against the High King.”

  “Blades?” said Calliande. The staff didn’t look dark elven.

  “It creates disks of crystal,” said Nicion, “blades that can cut through anything. It…”

  “Yes,” said Khurazalin. “I am afraid, Shield Knight and Keeper, that your interference in our affairs can no longer be tolerated. Master Nicion has done a poor job of describing the Staff’s power, but you can observe it with your own eyes.”

  He raised the Staff high and brought the end hammering against the floor.

  ###

  Ridmark had heard enough, and he hurried forward, Oathshield in hand, Kyralion, Tamlin, and Aegeus following him.

  Khurazalin struck the end of the Staff of Blades against the ground, and the crystal at the end exploded.

  At least, it looked like it shattered. The crystal flashed, and three finger-sized splinters broke off. The splinters whirled, and in the blink of an eye, they became spinning discs about the diameter of Ridmark’s forearm, glittering as they whirled.

  They shot forward with terrific speed.

  Reflex and experience took over, and he swung Oathshield as the others ducked around him. The soulblade struck the disk hurtling towards him, and the crystalline disk shattered into a thousand shards of light that dissipated into nothingness.

  The other two disks shot past him, hit the floor, and ricocheted upward. Ridmark saw that the edges of the disks had carved deep grooves in the stone floor. One of the disks hit a pillar, sank three inches into the stone, and then shattered.

  The final disk shot downward and hit two hoplites standing near the jotunmiri.

  It shot through their chests without slowing, and the men fell in bloody pieces to the floor. The disk had sliced through the men without appreciable resistance, neither bronze nor bone nor flesh slowing it at all. The sword Excalibur could do that, as could the Seven Swords themselves, but they had to be wielded with the strength of a man’s arm.

  Not thrown from the end of a magical staff.

  Ridmark turned just as Khurazalin struck the end of the Staff of Blades against the floor, and more crystalline splinters broke from it.

  This time, seven disks screamed into the hall.

  One of the disks was spinning for his head, and a parry from Oathshield shattered it. A second hurtled past him, making a strange buzzing sound as it did, and Ridmark dodged and lashed out with Oathshield, smashing the disk into nothingness.

  The remaining five disks reached the end of the hall, ricocheting off the pillars and the floor.

  It made Ridmark think of putting razors into a closed box and giving the box a vigorous shake.

  Six men and one jotunmiri fell, torn apart by the rebounding disks.

  He whirled and sprinted towards the Maledictus, calling on his soulblade for greater speed. Khurazalin struck the Staff against the ground, and again splinters broke off from the crystal, which seemed to regrow itself. Nine disks screamed out from the Staff, and Ridmark dodged around one, smashed a second, and charged at Khurazalin.

  The Maledictus gestured with his free hand and vanished, disappearing in a swirl of shadow an instant before Oathshield would have found his skull. Ridmark turned in a circle and spotted Khurazalin on the balcony as the Staff of Blades flung more of the lethal disks into the hall.

  ###

  Men died around Calliande.

  The disks looked as if they had been made of rough-cut blue diamond, their edges sharper than any metal. Calliande’s Sight saw the magic of earth and air infusing the disks, giving them unnatural sharpness and terrible speed. The disks also rebounded when they hit something sufficiently hard, like a child bouncing a ball off a stone wall.

  But when the disks hit flesh and bone and bronze armor, they sliced through them without pausing.

  It was horrible. The disks punched right through the men and depending on the angle, the men they struck simply fell apart, sliced in half. Worse, the aura of power around the Staff did not waver, did not fluctuate. Khurazalin could call as many of those disks as he wanted, using his magic to transport himself from place to place until everyone in the hall was dead.

  Then two of the disks hurtled towards her, and Calliande had to react.

  She lifted her hands and cast a spell, calling all the magic of the Well and the power of the Keeper’s mantle to her will. White light blazed around her fingers, a dome of shimmering white light appearing around her. It was a spell to deflect and shatter attacks of elemental force, and Calliande hoped that would be enough to break the disks.

  The spinning crystalline disks slammed into her dome, and the impact knocked her back a step. The diamond blades had struck with terrific force, their momentum bleeding into her warding spell. But her ward held, and it unraveled the elemental magic of earth and air within the crystalline weapons.

  The disks shattered into nothingness. Calliande caught her balance and looked for Khurazalin, sweeping the Sight through her hall. She saw the surge of dark magic and elemental magic near the dais, saw Ridmark, Aegeus, Tamlin, and Kyralio
n hurrying towards the Maledictus. Khurazalin flung another volley of disks. Ridmark kept running, slashing Oathshield to shatter any disk that drew too near to him. He destroyed two of them, clearing a path to Khurazalin, but Tamlin, Aegeus, and Kyralion had to throw themselves flat to avoid the whirling blades. The disks ripped through the remaining abscondamni, leaving bloody limbs in their wake, and drew nearer.

  Calliande drew on all the magic she could hold, and cast another spell.

  It was the same ward that she had cast earlier, but far stronger and far larger. A wall of shimmering white light appeared and sealed off the end of the great hall, and an instant later the volley of disks struck it. The ward collapsed under the onslaught, but four of the disks shimmered and vanished into nothingness.

  Three punched through her collapsing ward, killing two men before their momentum was spent. The disks contained too much elemental magic compressed into too much space. Calliande could shield herself from the bladed disks, and perhaps a few others, but even she did not have enough power to ward the entire hall from the powerful weapons.

  Ridmark lunged at Khurazalin, and the Maledictus vanished in a swirl of shadow, reappearing on the far balcony. Calliande hurled a shaft of white fire at him, and Khurazalin disappeared before her spell could connect. He reappeared midway between Ridmark and the gathered jotunmiri and knights, striking the Staff of Blades against the ground.

  This time eleven disks leaped from the staff, shooting off in all directions. Ridmark knocked one from the air with a swing of Oathshield. Calliande gritted her teeth and cast the warding spell again, throwing up the curtain of light. This time she managed to stop seven of the disks as they hammered into her magic. Three more punched through her ward, killing men as they ricocheted to a stop.