by Jason Kenyon
So, the paladins are dead? came Antagules’s voice.
I would imagine so, Archimegadon replied. They were all in the city restoring order. And after I told them everything as you asked.
I am surprised, Antagules said. I didn’t think your pride would allow it.
That’s enough of that, Archimegadon said. You saw what happened?
I’ve been keeping an eye on things for a while. I did not know Vortagenses had designed the dome in such a fashion, she replied.
Who would have done it? Archimegadon asked. Was it Bartell, Sen, or someone else entirely?
Sen Delarian is dead.
Delarian is dead? Archimegadon felt a shock rush through him. He’d hated the man, but still the thought of such a man being dead in such an ignominious fashion was quite humbling. Then again, until a couple of weeks back, he’d barely even remembered the fellow’s existence, and had only really known of him for the period he’d despised the man. Others who had paid attention to their kingdom’s hero would be shocked, though, if Valanthas survived the days ahead.
He remained a guest of the paladins to the end, Antagules told him. Looks like Bartell didn’t care so much for his old friend.
Apparently not. Archimegadon stared at the smoke rising from the ruins of Aldrack. How do you even know that?
I have an orb here that shows me visions of things happening in your world, Antagules replied. Apparently it considers what’s happening down there with you most important, which is a first.
I see, Archimegadon thought back, in no mood for a snappy reply this time. What now, then?
You know what comes next, Antagules replied. You’re the only people I have left, unless you know any other heroes or organisations close by?
Not hereabouts, Archimegadon replied. This is not the most populated part of Valanthas.
Then I must ask the impossible, Antagules said. Follow Lord Bartell. Put an end to his plans. Don’t let the power of Vortagenses be unleashed on the kingdom.
I’ll do this one for free, Archimegadon replied.
‘Valia,’ Obdo said, interrupting Archimegadon’s silent conversation. ‘I didn’t get on with her so much, but… ’
‘I liked her,’ Neurion said, the corner of his mouth twitching. ‘Maybe she got out. She escaped the Dusk Alliance, remember?’
Archimegadon remembered indeed, but this was entirely different. Escaping the devastation there had been a natural reaction, but Valia would have had no reason to flee with any particular haste after the day’s events. And for that matter, Mortimyr, Anjilo, Terrill and Gelenn… they had been there too. And now they were gone?
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Obdo said. ‘First time, I’m all out. What do we do?’
‘It’s a ruin,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘We can mourn for it and the people later. For now, we have to get the man who did this.’
‘Lord King,’ Obdo said. ‘Some “god” he is.’ He cracked his knuckles. ‘I’m ready for him.’
‘Then let us proceed,’ Archimegadon said.
Such a display of power ought to have put him off completely, and yet he still wished to carry on. Here, on the Central Way, looking down upon the ruins of Aldrack, he suddenly felt very alone in the world. Valanthas had opened up again, and he should have been happy to see the skies again, but they didn’t feel like they were there for him any longer. What remained was the road, the mountain at the end of it, and Bartell.
Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Last Road
‘The city of Aldrack lies in ruins, Lord Bartell races ahead to end the world, and you had to stop to get new robes,’ Obdo said.
Archimegadon frowned. ‘Now look, the other robes were quite ruined from my battle with Delarian.’ It still made him feel odd to say the name, now that the man was dead and gone, but he shoved that thought aside quickly. Who could feel any pity for the man who’d put all this in motion ten years or so back? ‘While they seem to have been my reward for conquering Sen’s little magic trick, they weren’t terribly durable in the face of battle.’
‘So you went for pink?’
‘These are purple!’
He had indeed opted for some fine robes that divided themselves between purple and white, interwoven with lighter violet shades here and there, and some gold patterns for variety. He felt these were the most splendid robes he’d managed to procure thus far, and certainly the best final vanity purchase he would (presumably) make before heading on to Arranoth for what was quite possibly the end of all things.
‘I notice you bought a new set of clothes as well,’ Neurion said to Obdo, his eyes narrow.
‘Yeah, uh, well I figured we’d better use the time,’ Obdo said. He’d gone for some black leathers that made him look like he’d fit in with Broadblade’s Breakers. Along with his stubbly chin, he looked infinitely more threatening than he actually was.
‘Well, let’s use the time to try and work out where we are on this blasted map,’ Archimegadon said, bringing out the worn plan of Valanthas’s many roads. ‘I did say we should go left at Pelaan and head through Eldsmith.’
‘I’m telling you, this way was better,’ Obdo said.
‘The Central Way is the most direct route to Arranoth,’ Neurion said, in such a pious fashion that it sounded almost religious.
‘Nah, this way skips out a load of it,’ Obdo said. He poked a finger onto the map. ‘Look, should get us past this bit here, and then we might even get past Lord King.’
‘Bartell already has an extensive lead on us, I suspect,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Today’s necessity has alas put us further behind. Be that as it may, I’m quite sure we’d have been better off not diverting off the open road and having to traverse… what was it… a bog, a river crossing with a mad ferryman, three bandits and ending up in the wrong village for half a day.’
‘Those were just bad luck,’ Obdo said. ‘Bet we’d have run into the Breakers and stuff if we’d followed them on the road.’
Neurion’s mouth tightened as Obdo said this. Archimegadon smiled a little to himself. Despite the paladin’s irritating and total faith in Archimegadon, here he found a stumbling block; his belief that Felick should have died back at Gale was so strong that he actually got annoyed that Archimegadon had let him go. That irritation pushing at Neurion’s expression was, to Archimegadon at least, a sign that Neurion was improving.
‘I don’t know that Bartell is so worried about being followed,’ Archimegadon said. ‘As far as he can tell, all his enemies were in Aldrack, and nobody else knows where Bartell is going now, nor what his plans are. If I was Bartell, thinking in that way, I’d be feeling rather pleased with myself about now.’
‘You feel pleased with yourself anyway,’ Obdo said.
‘Of course,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I did after all defeat Sen Delarian, and was chosen by a mage of legend to combat the great threat to the kingdom.’
‘Sounds grand without any of the actual details,’ Obdo said with a grin.
‘Silence,’ Archimegadon said, glaring. ‘Now then, I believe that the right-hand fork up ahead should bring us near to the Central Way again.’
‘That takes us off to the road back to Gale,’ Obdo said, peering at the map.
‘Nonsense!’ Archimegadon said. ‘Follow me at once, and you shall be tutored in the correct manner of deciphering maps.’
*
Lord Bartell rode with his head held high. At his right side, eyes twitching in all directions, Elsim rode in trepidation of attack. Felick, feeling pretty clever, was to the left, his Breakers fanned out around the dark lord protectively. Valia rode behind, eyes staring into nothingness.
Bartell was finding it impossible not to smile. Being free of his damned study, and the army that required constant attention, he was feeling renewed! Back on the road as an adventurer again, on his way to fulfilling the destiny he’d missed at Malthair. And what a mess he’d cleared up in Aldrack, wiping the world clean of Grand and his corrupt paladins, and the traitorous Sen. What it was S
en had been up to was still a thing of mystery to the former Lord of Aldrack, but those plans had been cut short. Getting rid of Mortimyr, Terrill and Gelenn had been another huge bonus, clearing foolish vigilante heroism out of the way early so he could proceed with matters efficiently.
The Central Way had been busy for a short while. Many folk had banded together to see what had been hidden behind the mysterious red dome that was now gone, and many groups of local militia had passed Bartell on their way to investigate. Fortunately none had recognised the Lord of Aldrack, and the few that asked whether they had come from that area had naturally been denied the truth. Now, though, the excitement had died down, and travelling along the road was mostly a lonely business.
‘Redrock, do stop acting like that,’ Bartell said, getting fed up of the man looking so blatantly afraid of being caught. ‘You will make people suspicious of us.’
‘You are surrounded by a band of mercenaries,’ Valia said.
‘Plenty of minor nobles travel like this,’ Bartell replied. ‘Nobody will care.’
Valia was still an amusement to him. She only spoke to make snide remarks but otherwise seemed to be in a trance, and didn’t talk if she could avoid using her voice. The girl was so embroiled in her own anger and hate that she was emboldened by not fearing (and even, it seemed, craving) death.
Running across her leaving Aldrack by chance, Bartell had recognised her as the daughter of one of his former soldiers – one of his best soldiers, in fact. If she had the same fighting talent as her father, she would be a good asset in the coming days. He’d only been a good fighter after he stopped loving life as well.
‘Someone’s coming!’ Elsim said, cowering under his arms.
Bartell turned his head and blinked as he saw a woman riding towards them from behind. The Breakers were quick to reposition to face her, but it was soon obvious she was not there to harm anyone.
‘Akarith!’ Bartell said. ‘I didn’t expect you to find us.’
‘Auber, what happened to the dome?’ Akarith asked. ‘And Aldrack! Grand escaped the cathedral, he slipped past, and then… did he do that to the city?’
‘I destroyed Aldrack,’ Bartell replied.
‘You..?’ Akarith narrowed her eyes. Possibly, she was remembering that he’d destroyed her old base as well. ‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘Grand’s paladins and a band of would-be heroes were there to kill us,’ Bartell replied. ‘They even got Sen. I had to stop them getting us, so I brought the dome down on their heads and have freed us of all opposition. My so-called knights managed to bungle the defence.’
‘Plenty of your army remains,’ Akarith said. ‘Velris is camped in the Verrinion Cathedral awaiting your orders.’
‘Forget about him,’ Bartell said. ‘He no longer matters. None of the Order of Endless Skies does. Everyone with a purpose is here, right now. Will you join us?’
‘You’re collecting that power of yours?’ Akarith asked with a smirk.
She had always been pretty sceptical about whether Auber and Sen were right to expect some miracle power to be locked away in Arranoth, even though she showed some deep interest in the concept on some occasions. Bartell wasn’t quite sure what interested her the most: the cause Bartell followed, or the promise of power that he might give her. His right eye narrowed for an instant, and a cold expression washed over his face, quickly replaced by a slanted smile.
‘That’s it, Akarith,’ he replied, trying to look jovial. ‘We’re at the end now.’
‘Wait, Auber, when you say they “got” Sen…’
‘He is dead,’ Bartell said, forgetting himself and not showing any remorse. Then he recalled who he was speaking to, and twisted his disdainful scowl into a regretful frown. ‘Because of Grand. But Grand is dead now. They all are.’
Akarith looked genuinely upset. ‘Oh, Auber, I don’t know what I can say. I know he saw you as a brother, and cared about you very much. I’m sure he’s proud that you avenged him.’
Bartell felt his right eye narrowing again, and tried to force it back to a more neutral expression. It did make him unhappy to think of how he had seen Sen in the past, compared to his more recent realisation of Sen’s own private ambitions and whatever separate agenda he’d been pursuing, contrary to Bartell’s own. Whatever secrets the mage had kept had died with him, though, but still, he’d been trying to play Auber for a fool, and by doing so had spat on everything that had gone before.
So Bartell would not forgive it, nor would he mourn the mage’s passing, or allow it to affect him. That was done. But Akarith obviously still liked the man, which was tiresome. He reached out and squeezed her shoulder.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered, sounding as though he’d been overcome with emotion. In truth, his attempts to mask his contempt had resulted in his voice coming out strangled.
‘Shall we… shall we get going?’ Akarith asked.
Bartell gave her a smile. ‘Straight away, my dear.’
*
‘So, in fact, this was the road to Gale,’ Obdo said, as they gazed down from the top of a hill and beheld the mountains in the distance that surrounded Gale.
‘You clearly took a wrong turning somewhere and misled us,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Let us head back and find our bearings.’
And so the companions spent another hour retracing their steps. Archimegadon cursed this waste of time, and tried to ignore the fact that it had been his fault. What mattered was that the gap between them and Lord Bartell was probably getting pretty big now, and could mean the difference between killing the man and total disaster.
They still had to consider that Bartell’s mines were probably guarded by more of his soldiers, and these mysterious Clerics might be there in force as well. The Order of Endless Skies had, as far as Archimegadon knew, been mostly concentrated on defending Aldrack, but there was still the possibility that Valia’s old fellows would be there. Getting to Bartell before he reached the mountain was their best bet, or otherwise they’d have to sneak past one of the most dangerous forces around. Despite a handful of successes, largely in part to being good at running, Archimegadon knew that trying to fight Bartell’s men would lead to a premature conclusion for his bardic tale.
Antagules, are you there? Archimegadon asked, feeling very foolish silently talking to himself.
What’s that? You again? Has something gone wrong?
No, I just wanted to ask about the Kalahd spell Bartell uses, Archimegadon thought. Is there any way to stop it?
Not really, no, Antagules replied. It does disable all of his powers, though, so it’s a double-edged sword. But don’t get carried away, he’s a good swordsman, even now. Now I’ll get back to bed, thank you, I was trying to sleep.
‘If only one of us was good at using a bow,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Planning to do it with true assassin style?’ Obdo asked. ‘Don’t look at me. I barely know how to club people.’ He waved the bone-club he’d taken from Belias’s minions.
‘I am not proficient with bows, sorry,’ Neurion said. ‘For some reason, I just cannot quite work out how to hold them.’
‘Well, that leaves that out,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I suppose it will be easier to plan once we catch up.’
‘Like that’ll happen after you made us go back to Gale,’ Obdo said.
‘We were not even close!’ Archimegadon said. ‘We’re still outside of the dome’s former boundaries, so cease your impertinence.’
‘Alright, alright, let’s talk about something else then!’ Obdo said, fearing getting clouted by the Staff of Antagules. He fished around for a moment. ‘Uhm… say, what was it like in the real Mage Academy?’
‘Unpleasant,’ Archimegadon replied. He still did not particularly like the memories of that time. ‘The place was empty, and stalked only by memories of the past, it seems. Imagine, if you will, a place that was designed by an evil Neurion.’
‘What do you mean?’ Neurion asked, not looking slightly offended.
‘What sort of things?’ Obdo asked.
‘Back in the old war, I was a wagon runner,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I forget if I told you. Two of my friends were on the same wagon as me – we followed the army about and distributed supplies amongst the soldiers, and would set up camps and craft tools when they stopped in a particular area for a while. We saw a great many things on that wagon, none particularly pleasant, but we made it to the end. Or nearly.’
‘Did they..?’ Obdo stopped himself.
‘They died, yes.’ Ardon stared up at the clouds, watched them drift without a care, and focused on them. So silly, to still feel that way, after all this time. ‘Valanthas did not bother for their sacrifice. After the war finished, the King and all his people under him withdrew their support and did not pay for any of what we had done. They furnished their palaces and mansions with the spoils of war and left many of us with nothing.’
‘So that’s why Bartell was so bitter, I guess,’ Obdo said.
‘Funnily enough, no,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Bartell and most of the heroes were paid rather heavily for their high-profile role in defeating Tel Ariel. So I heard at the time anyway, I confess I didn’t really learn their names properly until recently. Auber got himself promoted to a General very shortly after.’
‘So what made them like they are now?’ Obdo asked. ‘Something has to have unhinged them.’
‘I once heard it said that it is the small things in life that can wear a person down,’ Neurion said. ‘Perhaps something pestered them for long enough that they went bad.’
‘Or perhaps they really believe that everything is so bad they need to destroy it and recreate it all,’ Archimegadon said, shrugging. ‘Dramatic people do dramatic things.’
