by Jason Kenyon
‘But nobody found the Kalahd ring for ages, so it never got degraded to the Shut Up ring when the language changed, a few centuries before Valanthas. Though I guess it was that stupid-sounding back in the days it was used. Either way, it was crafted to activate like normal magic, from the key word with the intent behind it, so even an untrained dolt like Bartell could use it.’
‘So you never tried to get Bartell again?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Nah,’ Terrill replied. ‘Security in Aldrack is mad, now, and Bartell and Delarian are constantly having people done in if they put their foot out of line. Not that they tell anyone, they try to cover it up. Bartell is telling everyone that some evil organisation is at large and he’s trying to find their members.’
‘We went in search of a weapon to defeat Bartell instead,’ Mortimyr said. ‘We found out from one of Bartell’s Clerics that they’d just found out there might be a secret stash of magical items in Horan, so we went there but found a load of undead and a raided grave. We got out of there pretty quick.’
‘That was the necromancer’s doing,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Belias, the Necromancer of Horan. He knew about the grave I believe, though I suspect he only found out recently. It wasn’t a weapon, mind you, it was a key.’
‘Key to what?’ Terrill asked.
Archimegadon gave them a brief explanation of Vortagenses’s tomb and what Antagules had told him of the founder of Valanthas, and Neurion took on his troubled look again. Obdo meanwhile downed his drink and went to get another.
‘I have no idea whether to believe a story like that,’ Terrill said after a moment. ‘If it is true, then I guess that puts us in an awkward position. Ties a few things together though. Those creepy Clerics for one. I was wondering what religion they seemed to follow.’
‘What we did find is that the Kalahd ring doesn’t affect the Light,’ Mortimyr said. ‘We were going to get hold of the paladins, but word was they’re surrounded by Bartell’s men, so we decided not to waste the journey.’
‘Master Archimegadon,’ Neurion said after a moment. ‘I wonder… would it be wise for us all to team up? I mean, surely together we can defeat Bartell’s plot? We have me and the lady Anjilo who can get round Bartell’s ring.’
‘Hrmph, well,’ Archimegadon said, frowning, ‘I suppose, perhaps, if they need help…’
‘It’s definitely something consider, whatever the old fool says,’ Terrill said. ‘But for now, enough of this! I came here to drink, not to talk!’
‘Cheers!’ Obdo said, returning and downing his drink in one smooth motion.
*
Meanwhile more seditious discussions were taking place at the other table. Valia, Anjilo and Gelenn all huddled together close as their male counterparts made a dreadful lot of noise nearby.
‘You two know each other, then?’ Valia asked.
‘Anji and I go way back!’ Gelenn replied. ‘Knew her before she was even going to be a paladin.’
‘Sure did,’ Anji said, nodding.
‘In that case I have a proposal to make,’ Valia said, pouring herself some wine and smiling. ‘You two are pretty good at what you do from what I’ve seen. Anjilo is a proper trained paladin, and you’re a genuine mage, Gelenn.’
‘Such flattery,’ Gelenn said with a smirk. ‘What are you after?’
‘Well, the way I see it is this,’ Valia replied. ‘Look around. Lord Bartell is a real threat, not someone to be joked with. Now look at those three over there… Obdo, Neurion and Archimegadon.’
At that exact moment Obdo fell off his chair, Neurion started to give him a good telling-off and Archimegadon clubbed the farmhand with the remains of his staff.
‘I see your point,’ Gelenn said. ‘The man was a fraud back when we killed the Shadow anyway; he was trying to claim he killed it.’
‘Exactly, that’s all he does,’ Valia said, before delicately sipping some wine. ‘He’s a glory-seeker who is more of a danger than anything else. It was a shame he managed to break free of Delarian’s curse.’
‘I wouldn’t be that unfair,’ Anjilo said. ‘Don’t forget he saved us from Belias.’
‘And had us fight the demon,’ Valia said, quirking an eyebrow. ‘Belias himself wasn’t much of a necromancer at the end of the day. Why else was he bumbling about as a farmer for so long?’
‘What about breaking the curse?’ Gelenn asked. ‘That’s no mean feat. Delarian and Bartell are using it as a torture weapon, and I think it’s had a perfect success rate so far.’
‘I believe he got the help of a powerful mage,’ Valia replied. ‘This is the story he told us.’ She detailed the vague tale Archimegadon had relayed to the group, and Gelenn’s expression did not change in the slightest.
‘It would be easy to put this down to his usual flight of fancy,’ Gelenn said, ‘but on the other hand, I suppose there are some truths hidden within it. Suppose this mage really did talk to him – I’ll bet that’s the secret behind his amazing recovery.’
‘Precisely,’ Valia said. ‘Archimegadon, Mage for Hire, is nothing but a sham and a fake. So that is why I propose to you both that, rather than follow him in his ridiculous plan he’s dreamt up, we should ditch those three and defeat Lord Bartell ourselves.’
‘Isn’t that a bit dishonest?’ Anjilo asked. ‘He did save us all from the necromancer.’
‘Do you think he has what it takes to defeat Lord Bartell and Sen Delarian, though?’ Valia returned. ‘Not to mention the assassin Akarith Kellason.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Anjilo replied after a moment's consideration. Archimegadon was, at that very moment, subjecting Obdo and Neurion to a rather unpleasant diatribe and waving the broken Staff of Antagules in a pretty daft manner. ‘I’d like to join you all again if I may. And I can vouch for Valia, she’s a good fighter.’
‘Why, thank you,’ Valia said, with a warm, surprised smile and a blush.
‘It’s decided, then,’ Gelenn said with a nod. ‘We’ll sneak away when they’re asleep and get this whole mess sorted out properly.’
*
Archimegadon awoke in a surprisingly eventless manner. No demon head, no thieves, no paladins amassed outside, just that tedious red glow and nothing else to worry him. He plonked himself down in one of the seats at the edge of the walkway and looked down at the shadowed and somewhat distant forest floor. It was not the most pleasant height; with a shudder he turned his eyes back to the pub.
To his great rage he saw Obdo emerge, and noticed that Felick was still sitting with the demon head. This was no real surprise, though, as Mortimyr and his enterprising companions had chained the thief to the demon head and a handy lamppost. Archimegadon had wondered briefly why they had chains on them, but decided upon further reflection that he’d rather not know.
‘Morning, Sir Mage,’ Obdo said.
‘Greetings,’ Archimegadon said, his glare removing any good will from his word. ‘Where are those others? We must get moving at once!’
‘You’re eager,’ Obdo said. ‘You do realise what you are saying, right?’
Archimegadon’s enthusiasm for his mad plan had somehow withstood the test of time, largely owing to the fact that at this point, surrounded by heroes and whatnot, turning back and undoing what he had declared would result in a total loss of face and ruin what meagre shreds of reputation he currently had.
‘Well,’ Archimegadon said, pausing for what sounded like dramatic effect, but was instead an attempt to buy thinking time, ‘you should know by now that I am ever mindful of the freedom of the citizens of this land, and see little reason to tarry when there is work to be done.’
‘They’re gone!’ Neurion said, stumbling out of the pub.
The Mage for Hire frowned as he rose to his feet. ‘What is this noise for, insolent ass?’
‘They’re gone! Valia, Anjilo, those others!’ Neurion replied. ‘They’ve left a note! They’ve gone to Aldrack to fight Lord Bartell themselves.’
Archimegadon took a step back. ‘All the…
all the heroes have gone?’
‘Let me read you what they said,’ Neurion said. He drew forth a tatty bit of paper. ‘“Gone to stop Bartell ourselves. Stay out of it this time, we don’t need you ruining things. Melethas is a good place to hide. Love, Valia.”’
‘I… what…’ Archimegadon took a moment to compose himself. ‘That insolent wen- I, well… how rude. I.’
Neurion and Obdo stared at Archimegadon.
‘What’s the problem, Sir Mage?’ Obdo asked.
‘Problem? What problem?’ Archimegadon returned.
He turned from the two of them and stared out across the forest. How quickly situations changed! One moment he had a bunch of heroes ready to help him, the next he was stuck with just these two dolts again. What possible use could they be in fighting, for example, Sen Delarian? And then Lord Bartell, who could negate what little magical power Archimegadon could bring to bear against him, was another impassable obstacle to a bunch of ragtag adventurers.
A laugh interrupted their thoughts, and all turned to see Felick Broadblade looking rather high of spirits leaning against the wall, despite the chains that bound him. ‘Too bad, Arkermechadon,’ he said. ‘Guess you’ll just have to give it up.’
Archimegadon whirled on Felick and brandished the Staff of Antagules at the mercenary, but as the broken staff came into his line of sight his shoulders slumped and he sighed. ‘Quite right,’ he said. ‘There’s no point really, is there? They’ll get Bartell sure enough, and likely better than we’d manage.’
Obdo boggled at him. ‘Sir Mage? What are you talking about?’
Neurion peered at him as though seeing him for the first time. ‘You’re free of that mage’s curse, right?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Archimegadon replied, glowering.
‘Then – you’re giving up?’ Neurion asked, and the quiet village seemed to echo with the sound of the words.
‘Well, yes, I suppose I am,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘We can’t fight Lord Bartell and his forces with just us three. I gambled on Valia and that paladin, and especially Mortimyr and those others when they arrived. And what can I say? It was bravado speaking after I beat that ass Belias. I can’t beat Delarian or Bartell myself.’
‘That’s a sudden turnaround, Sir Mage,’ Obdo said. ‘What about being the great Mage for Hire? What about revenge on Sen?’
‘What am I going to do to stop them with Flamebolt and a broken staff?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Well, I’m going to Melethas to fix this staff,’ Neurion replied, snatching the staff from a surprised Archimegadon. ‘And once I’ve done that I’m going to face Lord Bartell by myself.’
Obdo’s eyes widened. ‘Sir Rusty?’
Neurion still did not cut an impressive figure. He did not have a soldier’s build, and over the last few days a messy blonde wash of stubble had spread across his chin, while his hair was stuck out at odd angles. His armour was covered in dirt from nights spent sleeping by the roadside in Bartell’s forbidding new kingdom, and he was wielding only the broken staff at that moment.
Even so, there was some small thing in the stubborn set of his jaw and eyes that was different from the Neurion Archimegadon and Obdo were used to, more resolute than the childish frowns and tantrums he had displayed in the past. Archimegadon stared and suddenly realised that Neurion in that moment was everything he wanted to be – a person willing to fight injustice no matter the odds, simply because that was what needed to be done. Neurion, regardless of potential success, was in that moment cutting a true heroic look.
‘We’ll go to Melethas and fix the staff,’ Neurion said again, albeit slightly amended. ‘Then we’ll return to Aldrack and finish this thing at last. I don’t know what the paladins are up to, and Valia is just glory-seeking. But whatever Lord Bartell claims to be fighting for, he is just hurting the world and himself. We have to stop him.’
‘Damn straight!’ Obdo said. ‘I’ll drink to that. Let’s march up to his doors and whack him.’
Mentioning the doors of Castle Aldrack broke the magical moment for Archimegadon. ‘Now listen here!’ he said. ‘You understand the truth of this, yes? Bartell commands insane power with those items he yoinked from the Dusk Alliance. He may even have Akarith at his side, the assassin of legend who we have not actually had to fight yet thanks to good fortune. And he has Sen Delarian. Need I say more?’
‘Three versus three,’ Obdo replied. ‘It’s a fair match.’
‘They are HEROES!’ Archimegadon said. ‘Heroes! They fought the sodding necromancer who brought a kingdom to its knees!’
‘“Why, even Tel Ariel started out as Perrick the serving boy”,’ Neurion said.
‘Pardon?’
‘Tel Ariel was just a serving boy at one time, he didn’t start out all-powerful,’ Neurion replied.
‘The difference is he actually did intensive training,’ Archimegadon said. ‘The difference between us and those asses is they actually really care about their chosen professions! They’re all bloody experts! We’re just a band of hopeless idiots who dream of doing acts that we’re completely incapable of achieving! We’re not heroes. We’re not experts! We’re barely even good.’
‘I don’t see how it matters,’ Neurion said.
‘You don’t?’ Archimegadon raised his arms to the sky. ‘Neurion, we will die! All the chivalry and heroics in the world will not undo that.’
‘We’ll just die anyway,’ Neurion said. ‘If we don’t try. And if someone else saves the world – then at least we’ll have tried.’
‘But nobody would care,’ Archimegadon said.
‘That’s not really the point, now, is it?’ Neurion asked. ‘Anyway, you do what you like. I’m off to Melethas.’
‘You give me back my staff!’ Archimegadon said.
‘It’s not yours, it’s Antagules’s,’ Neurion said.
‘Wait for me,’ Obdo said to Neurion. ‘I’ll come along with you.’ He cracked his knuckles. ‘Gonna do my part.’
Archimegadon boggled at the both of them. ‘What are you doing? What are you thinking?’ They continued to walk away, and he waved a fist at them. ‘You listen to me! I’ll never go to Melethas! This is the end for me! Enough of this knavery! Archimegadon is back for hire, but not to mages or paladins or thugs or any imbeciles! I’m not going back to Melethas ever again!’
Chapter Thirty-Four: Archimegadon Returns to Melethas
A couple of days later found a group of rather grumpy companions standing before the Mage School of Melethas. Neurion and Obdo appeared distinctly bemused and weary, and any casual observer would be able to guess that both had been long suffering some sort of irritation, some annoyance so aggravating and irksome that their eyes glowered darker than a starless night sky. To the even more casual observer it was immediately apparent that the cause of their anger was most likely to be the raging mage that stood a few feet from them, waving his arms in a most ungainly fashion.
‘I am not going in!’ Archimegadon said. ‘I am not repairing that blasted staff!’
‘You will do it at once,’ Neurion said, seizing the mage and dragging him to the door. ‘I’m sure the Mage School will have somebody to help us.’
Felick had been standing at the side with a somewhat impatient expression. ‘Do you bunch ever bleeding shut it? Haven’t stopped for the last two days.’
‘Ah, a good point,’ Archimegadon said, finally pulling free of Neurion. ‘Your penance is at an end, I suppose.’
Felick set the head down, where it oozed into the ground a little.
Neurion pursed his lips. ‘Are you sure this is wise? Can we trust this man?’
Archimegadon folded his arms and regarded Felick with a sceptical air. ‘Broadblade, we have been at odds for a long time now. We have not, shall we say, seen eye to eye on terribly much. Even faced with the threat of Belias the Necromancer you chose to side against me.’
‘Well, eh, aye, I guess,’ Felick said, looking decidedly awkward.
‘Be that as it m
ay, we did make a promise,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Let it not be said that I am not a mage of my word. We shall let you free to go.’
‘You’ll not regret it, mate,’ Felick said.
Neurion shook his head. ‘This man is one of Lord Bartell’s lead followers.’
‘Well, that’s the last point I was about to make,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Bear this in mind, Felick Broadblade. Should you give me cause to do so, I will extinguish you should you force my hand. Just think about Belias’s fate and remember that you were moments from suffering the same.’
‘Got it,’ Felick said with a nod. Now that he had this opportunity to escape he was unwilling to speak much lest he incur the wrath of Archimegadon. His eyes flicked about between the companions and the alleys of Melethas. ‘Eh… can I go now?’
Archimegadon nodded. ‘Go on.’
Felick pounded his chest with his fist. ‘Eh… thanks, mate. Bye and stuff.’ He turned and ran for it before anyone could change their mind.
Obdo shook his head. ‘Not sure that was the right choice.’
‘Would you have rather killed him while he was defenceless?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Nobody with a mind is ever truly defenceless,’ Neurion replied.
‘Well quite,’ Archimegadon said, ‘that’s always going to be a threat against us. But nevertheless at the very moment of him being incapable of fighting back do you really think you could take his life? And out here in the open, no less.’
‘I suppose not,’ Neurion replied. ‘Are we going to hand in the demon head?’
Archimegadon stared at the head, and then looked across town in the direction of the guard tower. ‘Erm, can’t be bothered.’
‘You’re just going to leave a hideous demon head here?’ Obdo asked. Archimegadon shrugged. ‘Guess I don’t really want to have to carry it across town. Should have kept Felick a bit longer, though I still think we should’ve offed him.’
‘Perhaps, but there is one who we need to defeat more urgently,’ Neurion said. He held up the Staff of Antagules and nodded at Archimegadon. ‘And I suspect this may be the key. Shall we see if your mages can help as you suggested?’
