by Jason Kenyon
Sen shrugged. ‘It isn’t you really, it’s what you stand for. But I suppose that’s part of your character, so, yes, it’s you. But don’t worry, it’s just because you were here, you’d normally be under our notice.’ He smiled again, which was never a good sign. ‘Shall we demonstrate more magic?’
He twirled his staff a bit and a vortex of magic formed in the air before him. It suddenly flew loose and spun about like a deranged giant spinning top, before colliding with Archimegadon’s legs. For a moment he shook like a doll before it threw him against the parapets, and his robes flew up revealing his rather tatty leggings as he collapsed in a heap.
‘Oh my,’ Sen said. ‘Such poor taste in clothes. Ah well. What next? Surely you can counter some of it, Master Archimegadon?’ Sen frowned with mock disappointment. ‘Hmm, let me think…’
He waved his staff again and the Staff of Antagules rose into the air and danced around Archimegadon, who was still in a heap on the floor, and occasionally it struck him. Neurion made to draw his sword but Sen merely bound his hand in much the same way as his mouth, and then after a moment’s consideration did the same to Obdo before he could try anything.
‘Having fun down there, are we?’ Sen asked. He motioned for the Staff of Antagules to stop, which it did obediently. The old hero leant down and pulled Archimegadon to his feet, balancing him against the ramparts. ‘No cocky retorts? Very well, let’s bring this to a close with perhaps the most powerful spell I know.’ Sen concentrated deeply for several seconds before seizing Archimegadon’s hair and pulling his face close. ‘Remember what you have tried to forget! Let your worst memories return from where they have been hidden!’
‘Sen, what the..?’ Bartell said.
‘A rather nice spell,’ Sen said. ‘We all try to forget things, and it breaks down that barrier and brings back everything we have attempted to erase. Course it’s useless if you have no bad memories, but…’ He looked at Archimegadon, who had frozen in place, his eyes whirring back and forth while he murmured indistinctly. ‘Looks like our Mage for Hire had a few.’
Archimegadon fell to his knees. ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘Enough. I give up. You win.’ He took the Staff of Antagules in his hands and then held it out to Sen. ‘Take it back.’ The mage considered things for a moment, before reaching into his pockets and pulling out the signed scroll that Orgus Alhamis himself (or one of his secretaries) had signed. ‘And this… it is a lie… burn it for me, please.’
Sen took the staff and scroll solemnly. ‘As you wish.’ He handed the Staff of Antagules to Bartell. ‘Let this be a lesson you remember. Be what you can be, do not lie that you are more.’ He cast the scroll into the cloud of magic above them and, though they could not see it, it was incinerated instantly.
‘This is your sentence, Sen?’ Bartell asked. ‘Not death?’
‘There are worse fates than death, Auber,’ Sen replied. ‘I fancy Mr Forseld has much to think over now.’
Bartell looked Ardon up and down, and saw that Sen had indeed broken the man. So be it. He nodded to the knights. ‘We are done here, then. Let the people of New Valanthas know what has happened. And take these people to the dungeons, and keep an eye on them. Except for those two.’ He pointed out Obdo and Neurion. ‘I admire their courage if nothing else.’
The knights pushed Neurion and Obdo, both still bound, over to Bartell, Sen and Ardon.
‘Off with you, then,’ Bartell said, and the knights led their prisoners away. ‘And you, Sen, you have done your job. I’ll see these three off and we’ll get down to business. Oh, and could you remove these bindings? They won’t need them now.’
Once Sen had done as asked and gone, Bartell flashed the three a quick smile. ‘Follow me, we’ll go out the side entrance,’ he said, and they followed in his wake mutely. ‘Well, that was, shall we say, rather unpleasant. Sen gets very fired up about that sort of thing, you’ll have to forgive him.’
Obdo looked as though he was about to speak, but he held back, which was prudent. What he would have said would not have ingratiated him with the new Lord Protector at all.
‘But that is the way of the world,’ Bartell went on, as they descended yet another staircase and finally reached ground level. ‘Examples must be made. I want what is best for the kingdom, and though my methods must be harsh and unrelenting they will, in the end, I think, be the saving of us all. Heroes must do what needs to be done, at the end of the day.’
He led them out of the castle and along a narrow path through the surrounding gardens, until finally they came to the wall around the castle and a little bronze gate. Bartell fumbled in his pockets before finding the key and unlocking it.
‘There we go,’ he said, ushering them out. He patted Ardon on the shoulder briefly before savagely pushing him down the three steps onto the street, so that the former mage stumbled and fell. Bartell cast the Staff of Antagules to the ground, hitting Ardon with it.
‘Haven’t you done enough?’ Obdo asked, drawing Neurion’s sword and turning on Lord Bartell.
‘I was sending him back to where he belongs,’ Bartell replied. ‘In the dirt. Fitting. You are hereby exiled from the city of Aldrack, and have until sunrise to leave. If I ever catch you here again I will kill you on the spot, understand?’
‘I understand all too well,’ Obdo replied. ‘Okay, sure, Lord Protector, we’ll go. This place is a mess anyway. And I’ll wager New Valanthas will fall in a matter of days once the King gets word of this.’
‘The King cannot bring down the dome,’ Bartell said with a smug grin. ‘If he tries to ride through he will go the same way as that lord’s hand earlier. And really… do you think I would have trouble routing an army?’
‘If they were mages, then yes,’ Obdo replied.
‘Soon, farmhand, even mages won’t be able to touch me,’ Bartell said. ‘A word to the wise. Find the biggest mountain you can and hide deep, deep beneath it. Change is coming to the world. A grand movement to wipe the dirt from our land!’
‘Very impressive,’ Obdo said. ‘Well go on back to being Lord King and let us go.’
Bartell sneered. ‘You’ll find my kingdom a hard place to live if you continue with that attitude. But I want you to experience it first-hand. So go on, run off into the night! I have bigger things to deal with.’
The gate slammed shut, the key rattled in the lock and then Bartell’s footsteps faded away.
‘Sir Mage,’ Obdo said, kneeling next to the fallen mage. ‘How are you?’
‘I am no mage,’ Ardon said. ‘You saw.’
‘Sen Delarian is a legend, it’s no shame to be defeated by him,’ Obdo said.
‘I paid them and they gave me a staff…as far as I know, the only magic is in the staff, and it’s weak anyway,’ Ardon said. ‘And I renounce my false name. I am Ardon Forseld, former handyman… failed handyman.’
‘Well, I don’t know what’s going on, but let’s just get going first,’ Neurion said. ‘I don’t want to stay here with Lord Bartell and that aide of his close by. They reek of dark magic.’
‘Dark magic?’ Obdo asked. ‘What’s the difference?’
‘Well, it’s the opposite to the powers a paladin uses,’ Neurion replied. ‘You know… the Light…’
‘Light and dark, yeah, I get the difference,’ Obdo said. ‘But… I mean, I know they’re crazy…but they were kind of holy crazy. Like religious zealots.’
‘There are religions that worship dark gods too,’ Neurion said, his expression grave.
‘Looks like we may need your advice a bit more after all,’ Obdo said. ‘But come on, let’s get going, you were right that we should get some distance between us and Bartell.’
‘Not so fast!’ yelled a voice.
Obdo and Neurion turned to see Felick Broadblade emerge from the shadows, along with Valia. Apparently the knight had managed to get herself captured, for the mercenary was holding a dagger at her throat.
‘Oh gods, not more,’ Obdo said. He noticed he was still holding Neur
ion’s sword. He brandished it in a vaguely threatening manner. ‘Let her go, you idiot! I’m not in the mood for this right now.’
‘How sad,’ Felick said. ‘Those guards told me you were being led out here when they last saw you. Nice to see you are still here.’
‘Forget about me, just kill him!’ Valia said.
‘Hold on, he hasn’t even made any demands yet,’ Obdo said.
‘Yes, be patient, will you?’ Felick asked. ‘Now then, where was I? Ah yes, so you’re still here. Yes. And now… uhm… oh yeah! You helped bring down the Dusk Alliance and I’m here for revenge!’
‘Really, we didn’t,’ Obdo said. ‘That was Lord Bartell. And… uh… doesn’t the fact that everything has gone a nice shade of red disturb you at all?’
Broadblade shrugged. ‘Something to do with magic, the little rat man said. And the guards tell me Bartell’s taken over or something. Doesn’t bother me, I don’t live inside the system. And like hell Bartell blew up the Dusk Alliance, he isn’t even a mage!’
‘I don’t really understand that myself,’ Obdo said. ‘Look, let’s just go our separate ways, eh?’
‘Isn’t Arkermechadon going to say something?’ Felick asked. ‘I’ve been wanting to have a little chat with him for a while.’
‘He’s… a little preoccupied right now,’ Obdo replied, eying the silent Ardon. ‘Er… so what’s going on?’
‘Little knight thought she was well disguised,’ Felick replied. ‘Turns out I already knew she was a knight and had her lead me to you. She’s useful as a hostage if nothing else.’
‘Thanks,’ Valia said.
‘My pleasure,’ Felick said.
‘So you have a demand to make?’ Obdo asked.
‘Oh yeah,’ Felick replied. ‘I want whatever money you made from handing over Lady Akarith. Or missy here dies.’
‘Hmm… I wouldn’t call her nicknames,’ Obdo said. ‘She doesn’t really like that.’
‘Well tough,’ Felick said. ‘How on earth did I get outwitted by you idiots? Just hand over whatever you were paid and we’ll call it even.’
‘Okay, whatever you say,’ Obdo said with a shrug. He mimed throwing something at Broadblade. ‘There you go.’
‘What?’
‘That’s what we got.’
‘You didn’t throw anything,’ Felick said.
‘Mmhm,’ Obdo said. ‘We didn’t get paid. Lord King in his castle up there doesn’t like mercenaries or Mages for Hire. So he exiled us from Aldrack and didn’t pay us.’
‘Liar,’ Felick said. ‘Pay up. I didn’t come all this way for this stupidity.’
‘Nor did we,’ Obdo said. ‘And what’s more… oh… it’s that knight and his friends!’ He looked past Felick.
‘Now, I’m not falling for that again!’ Felick said, pressing the dagger against Valia’s throat in warning.
And then he crumpled to the floor.
‘Holding a hostage in the open, no less,’ Gelenn said, poking at the fallen mercenary with her foot. ‘Stupid.’
‘Nice hit, Mortimyr,’ Terrill said. ‘Surprised you didn’t take his head clean off.’
Mortimyr shrugged.
‘Good timing,’ Obdo said. ‘That’s the first decent thing that’s happened since that damn feast began.’
‘Having trouble?’ Terrill asked, looking up at the great sphere of energy above Castle Aldrack.
‘Like you wouldn’t believe,’ Obdo replied.
‘Let’s get Master Archimegadon out of here,’ Neurion said.
‘Let’s get all of us out of here,’ Obdo said. ‘Want to follow?’ he asked the newcomers. ‘We can tell you some interesting stuff.’
‘Sure, lead on,’ Terrill replied. ‘Doesn’t look like the best time to call in on Lord Bartell anyway.’
Chapter Twenty-Three: New Valanthas
‘So uh… let me get this straight,’ Terrill said. ‘We’re all stuck inside this dome forever?’
‘Yeah, something like that,’ Obdo replied.
‘Ouch.’
Obdo nodded.
‘That’s pretty crazy,’ Valia said. ‘Bartell and Delarian are both old heroes.’
‘So is Akarith,’ Obdo said.
‘I suppose.’ Valia drummed her fingers on the table and stared listlessly into the glass of wine that sat untouched before her. The others all had drinks gathering dust as well, with the exception of Obdo and Mortimyr, who had both already downed theirs.
‘So the problem is that Bartell and Delarian are trying to create their own kingdom, yes?’ Gelenn asked, her voice disconcertingly loud in the silence. ‘Well, the solution to that is pretty simple I’d say. We all have a nice night’s rest and then break into the castle tomorrow and kill them both.’
‘Uh… Bartell has plenty of troops faithful to him, not to mention a whole load of magical amulets and thingies that have made him pretty powerful,’ Obdo said. ‘That’s without even mentioning Sen. I’d rather not run in there just now.’
‘So what do you advise, master farmer?’ Terrill asked, sneering slightly as he said it.
If Obdo was bothered by the jab it didn’t show. ‘Hmmm, good question. Well, uh… does anyone know of any legends of magical swords we could go after?’ He was met by blank stares. ‘Nobody?’
‘Obdo…’ Neurion began.
‘It was worth a shot,’ Obdo said. ‘Right then, what other options do we have left to us?’
‘As I said before, they stank of dark magic,’ Neurion replied. ‘If we want to contend on an equal footing, I suggest we request the aid of the Light. I would be quite happy to approach the paladins of my order and seek their advice.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Just so long as Bartell’s bubble stretches far enough to their nearest cathedral.’
‘Agreed,’ Valia said. ‘Paladins were born for this sort of thing. We need their advice now… some of them may have fought Tel Ariel back in the last war.’
‘And if they did,’ Obdo said, picking up the thread, ‘they might also know something more about Delarian’s capabilities, and maybe something useful about Bartell.’
‘All they’d know is that Bartell was a good swordsman,’ Valia said, ‘and that Delarian was a good mage. We are aware of that already.’
‘Well, you never know,’ Obdo said.
‘We’re not here to think like the enemy,’ Valia said. ‘Let’s get some proper back-up, a nice big weapon like a holy lance and just kill them both quickly. Uh, and we’re going to need to find a way to destroy the magical barrier too.’
‘A great plan,’ Obdo said. ‘Isn’t this an impressive band of adventurers we have?’
‘In all honesty,’ Terrill replied, somewhat tentatively, ‘you are all erm… well, that is to say…’
‘You’re all useless,’ Mortimyr said.
‘Yeah. That.’
‘Isn’t that charming,’ Obdo said.
‘Oh, except for the knight,’ Terrill said. ‘She might have got herself captured but she usually doesn’t sound half as stupid as you other three.’
‘Thanks,’ Valia said, eyeing the three trained adventurers uncertainly and blushing.
‘By the way,’ Obdo interrupted, scratching his cheek. ‘You’re that bunch who killed the demon in the Forest of Gale, aye?’
‘That’d be us!’ Terrill replied. ‘Have our names got around then?’
‘Not really, it was just next to the farm I used to work on, and I was kind of standing off to the side.’
‘Oh.’
‘Wait a moment,’ Gelenn said. ‘Does that mean this morose friend of yours is that… that “mage”?’
She poked a finger at Ardon, who was gazing into his mug of ale without moving. Indeed, the barman was taking bets with some of the locals on whether Ardon was in actual fact a stolen scarecrow.
‘Yup,’ Obdo replied. ‘That’s Sir Mage.’ He glanced at Neurion, whose expression darkened. ‘Well, he was, but that mage of Lord King’s did something to him. Something magical.’
&nbs
p; Neurion did not seem to leave his internal trail of thought, but he spoke all the same, almost as though he was in a trance. ‘He said something about Master Archimegadon’s memories. About forcing him to relive them.’
‘Yeah. That.’
‘Doesn’t sound like any regular branch of magic,’ Terrill said. ‘Delarian’s way ahead of most mages in Valanthas anyway. He’s probably better than Orgus Alhamis, although I guess old Orgus got his position more by political influence than magical prowess.’
‘His daughter married the King,’ Gelenn said.
‘Ah, right,’ Obdo said. ‘So you think that he really did that? Or did he just garble Sir Mage’s brain?’
‘Either way, I think that was the outcome,’ Gelenn replied. ‘You should take him to a healer, if any are stuck within this ridiculous dome.’
‘It looked like the magic barrier was quite big,’ Obdo said. ‘Don’t think Lord King would be satisfied with too small a kingdom, and I think that Sen guy was setting something up so it at least goes as far as Melethas.’
‘Speaking of Auber Bartell, and his pals of course,’ Terrill said, ‘what possessed them to do all this? I mean, they’re heroes, like us!’ He gestured at himself, Gelenn and Mortimyr to ensure no misapprehensions occurred. ‘They saved Valanthas. So why are they doing this?’
Neurion looked up. ‘They claimed to be still saving Valanthas, this time from its own greed.’ His expression as he said this was a little odd.
The three self-proclaimed heroes eyed one another. ‘You think they may be right, don’t you, paladin?’ Terrill asked.
‘I admit I wonder if they have a point,’ Neurion replied slowly. ‘Much as I admired Master Archimegadon, he was rather… well… he put a lot of faith in his relorans.’
‘Don’t we all?’ Obdo asked. ‘Ah, you see now they have a point indeed! Guess it’s good those psychos up there have elected themselves to save us.’
‘Sarcasm aside,’ Valia interrupted, ‘I cannot really put much faith in the words of men who would lock us in this magical prison.’
‘The great Vortagenses did the same,’ Neurion said. ‘He took it upon himself to find a means of defending Valanthas against the barbarous hordes without.’
