Lioness of Kell

by Paul E. Horsman

  ‘I am at your service, mistress. But not now, if you please.’

  ‘No, no. Soon.’ She lapsed into a pensive silence.

  Basil nodded. ‘As the captain noted, we must prepare for defense. One of us is an expert. My dear companion, the Lioness Maud of the M’Brannoe, will be in charge of the actual defense. She is an experienced officer serving the Kell Queen. Her partner, Jurgis of Winsproke, shall assist her. He is my brother.’

  Isaac scratched his head. ‘What can we do against a strong force? If Noah is right, the Strapan has two hundred soldiers, and several singers. We cannot stand against them! We must flee.’

  ‘No!’ Rebeca and Noah said together.

  ‘They will come after us,’ Noah said. ‘His singers will hunt us down like rabbits.’

  ‘You aren’t rabbits,’ Basil said in a soft voice. ‘You are Vanhaari. This time we will fight. We will all fight. I want the Strapan captured. Lioness, what are your ideas?’

  ‘With two hundred men, they outnumber the crew two to one, assuming Captain Yarwan wants to keep his guns manned,’ Maud said. ‘So every help the townspeople can give us will be welcome. What is the fighting strength of both your organizations?’

  ‘Fighting strength?’ Isaac looked aghast. ‘None. We aren’t warriors; we have no weapons, nothing against a well-organized army.’

  ‘Is your resistance movement only words, then?’ Maud said. ‘No matter. Master Isaac, you will arrange for about twenty to twenty-five soldiers. Dressed in the uniforms of the garrison, and armed with their weapons. I also need at least one officer. Would anyone in the Strapan’s company know either Commander Taashel or his lieutenant by face?’

  ‘Taashel is a cousin of the Strapan’s wife,’ Isaac said. ‘Lieutenant Dalhaun comes from the north. I believe there was some talk about a scandal.’

  Maud grinned, though with little mirth. ‘We’ll have someone wearing Dalhaun’s uniform then.’

  ‘Why? I can’t have my people risking their lives,’ Isaac said.

  Basil folded his hands and fixed the merchant with his eye. ‘Master Isaac,’ he said, giving a convincing imitation of Councilor Volaut’s purring voice. ‘I’m the Spellwarden. My power is immense and I can, if so forced, win this battle without you. But then you will have lost that which your organization stands for–the chance to live on equal footing with us warlocks. Equality has a price, Isaac. And what’s a tiny risk, compared to what you can win?’

  ‘He’s right, Father,’ Rebeca said excitedly. She nodded to Maud. ‘I will play that damned lieutenant.’

  ‘Rebeca!’

  ‘I’m not in the Liberation Front to sit on my ass when the liberation begins, Father.’

  ‘Good of you,’ Noah said admiringly. ‘I knew you had the guts.’ He balled his fists. ‘Spellwarden, do you need magical assistance?’

  Basil let a tiny strike of lightning dance over the table. ‘I said I could defeat two hundred men. I can, but it would exhaust me for weeks. We can’t have that, so I need more power. Yours. Like I gave you my energy, you will feed me your power. How many magic-users are there?’

  ‘Not too many,’ Dori said. ‘Twelve, including myself.’

  ‘Don’t forget the children,’ Noah added. ‘That’s eight more.’

  ‘They’re too young; I can’t risk them burning themselves out.’ The witch looked straight at Basil. ‘I will not risk the children, Spellwarden.’

  ‘But they do it already,’ Noah said. ‘They play Keep-the-Ball-in-the-Air for hours. We could say Basil is the ball. Don’t worry; they won’t lift you up, Spellwarden. It’s a game of concentration. They will give you some energy at least.’

  Dori sighed. ‘I’ll speak with their teacher. When and where do you need us?’

  ‘As soon as you can manage. On the castle square; that’s where we’ll face them.’

  Maud nodded. ‘I need those soldiers as soon as possible. We’ll have to exercise the drill a few times and all those muskets must be checked and loaded.’ She rose and walked to the door. ‘You’ll find me at the castle.’

  Dori rose. ‘With your permission, Spellwarden, I will get my people together.’

  The little gnome bowed. ‘A pleasure to have you returned, o great one. I look forward to seeing you use your strength, as once it used to be.’

  Basil smiled. ‘I shall try not to disappoint you, wise Izzabod. I, too, am overjoyed to meet you. I thought the gnomes of Vanhaar had met their end in the war.’

  ‘Not at all,’ Izzabod said. ‘A few joined with the Eternal Mother, but most returned to the ancestral caves. We are a cowardly people, Spellwarden.’

  ‘That will please Gutriz,’ Basil said. ‘He always thought he was the last gnome alive.’

  ‘Gutriz lives?’ Izzabod clapped his hands. ‘Such magnificent news! He is an elder of elders, is Gutriz; last of his class. Also he is my nestmother’s uncle. Our caves will celebrate long over this news, Spellwarden. How I wish I could visit him.’

  ‘Gutriz is the Keeper of the Tower Aware; the guardian of all our lore. When our work here is done, I will gladly arrange for you to travel to his tower.’

  ‘A gracious offer,’ Izzabod said. ‘We will speak of this. Dori? She left; I must hurrygo, much very very pleased, noble warlock!’

  Basil bowed solemnly as the small being scuttled off. Then he walked back to the table. ‘Well, Master Isaac?’

  The merchant shook himself. ‘Your pardon; I was thinking. This thing you ask from us will take some talking, I fear.’

  ‘It’s their future,’ Basil said with a shrug. ‘We warlocks will return. Are your people with us or not? Whatever they decide, I’ll remember it.’

  ‘You’re a hard man, Spellwarden,’ Isaac said.

  ‘You wasted a century of chances, Master Isaac,’ Basil said, grimfaced. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

  The merchant nodded heavily and left. Yarwan followed him out, leaving the two brothers alone in the cabin.

  ‘As a resistance, Isaac’s folks are remarkably unresisting,’ Jurgis said when the door had closed. ‘What happened? Why are those people so spiritless? Was it the war?’

  ‘The warlocks disappeared.’

  Jurgis stared at his brother. ‘Explain that.’

  For a moment, Basil stared out of the cabin’s rear window, where wildwings were diving and squabbling over a dead fish. He thought he had the answer, but how to explain it.

  ‘We warlocks were the hub of the wheel. Farming, trade, all was organized to keep us fed, clothed and content. It wasn’t slavery, like Rebeca said, but it gave the people no reason to think for themselves, either. Then we got ourselves killed, and the survivors fled. In one stroke, the people lost the reason for their existence. The Unwaari occupiers never filled that hole and thus everything came to a halt.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ Jurgis said. ‘You nailed it, twin. That’s why you want us to live among the people, not apart from them?’

  ‘We are part of the people, and we, too, lost our purpose. All those years in Malgarth, we haven’t made even one useful discovery. Take those portals in the M’Arrangh gatherhouse. Has anyone picked that up again? No, too much trouble. We lost the art of weaving carpets. No one was interested enough to rediscover it. All our energy went inyo being the beautifullest. Speaking of uselessness.’

  Jurgis laughed. ‘Nicely argued. I’ll add a thought. The Unwaari always were much like us, weren’t they? They lost their goddess with the masks. Wouldn’t that give the same effect? All their songs and ceremonies, the whole reason for being a singer, gone.’

  ‘Damn,’ Basil said. ‘Good point. It would explain Taashel’s apathetic soldiers as much as the empty cruelty of those singers. I must think about this.’ He rubbed his eyes, all at once weary. ‘But first I must do another scouting flight.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Jurgis said. ‘Spell me a broom and go to sleep for a bit. You need to be fit for battle, twin.’

  CHAPTER 32 - BATTLE

  ‘If that’s the best they
can do, the Strapan won’t be taken in,’ Jurgis said, landing beside Maud on the large square. ‘I’ve just been checking up on him. They’re settling down for the night, so you’ll have a few days at least.’

  Maud looked at the marching townspeople with something akin to disgust. ‘I’ll need them. Our guards haven’t grasped it yet,’ she said. ‘There isn’t an ounce of spirit in them.’

  ‘Let me,’ Jurgis said. Still on his broom, he flew to the slack-shouldered townspeople slouching across the square.

  ‘Stop!’ he yelled. ‘Look at yourselves. You’re supposed to be guards, not walking scarecrows. You make me ashamed, Vanhaari!’

  ‘Easily said, outlander,’ a gray-skinned young fellow growled. ‘Why don’t I see you walking with us?’

  ‘I’ve been outside, scouting the enemy’s approach,’ Jurgis said. He gripped the youth by his uniform coat and brought them face to face. ‘And don’t you call me outlander, you bloody idiot. I’m as Vanhaari as you are.’

  ‘Careful, I seen them together,’ another said. ‘He’s that warlock’s brother.’

  ‘Not “that warlock”, mate,’ Jurgis shouted. ‘He’s the Spellwarden; don’t you forget it.’ He shouldered his broom as if it were a pike, and marched across the square as he’d seen the warrioresses in Tar Kell do. Shoulders straight, arm along the body, he went up and down. When he’d come back to the first townsman, he halted. ‘That’s how you do it. Now you, mister smart-talk. Show us something. March to the other side of the square. And don’t slouch, guardsman.’

  With reluctance, the other walked.

  Halfway, Jurgis cursed. ‘Dammit, you soft ninny. March!’ Again, he shouldered his broom and walked with the other, calling the time in a loud voice.

  After a few paces, the other got into the rhythm, and automatically his body straightened. Jurgis marched him to the head of the line. ‘Fall in behind me,’ he commanded the others. ‘Mind the beat.’ Then he saw Rebeca, dressed in her splendid officer’s uniform, almost doubling with laughter.

  ‘You,’ Jurgis shouted. ‘Lieutenant! I’m not doing your job for you, sir. Come and take over.’

  Rebeca gaped, but hurried to take Jurgis’ place. ‘What must I do?’

  ‘Didn’t you look, dammit?’ By now, Jurgis was disgusted with it all and it showed. ‘Take my place, give them the time, and follow the lioness’ orders. You others do what she tells you. And be smart about it. The enemy will be at the gates soon and either you march or you’ll be slaughtered. Now, act like proper guards and make me proud, Vanhaari.’ He mounted his broom and flew over to Maud. ‘Me!’ he whispered, disgusted. ‘Playing the soldier! Gimme a bucket, I need to spew.’

  ‘You were wonderful,’ she whispered back. ‘They’re better already. I keep forgetting they’re not Kells, dammit.’

  ‘Well, have fun,’ he said. ‘I’ll go tell Basil and Yarwan the news.’

  While Jurgis had been away, Yarwan had shifted both the Witch and the Magonaut, so that both vessels were closer to the square.

  Still grumbling, Jurgis landed beside him on the Magonaut’s main deck. ‘Those singers we killed bought us time,’ he said. ‘They are setting up camp. And that’s good, seeing those slobs in uniform Maud is drilling. Gods, what losers.’

  ‘And now you’re angry,’ Yarwan said.

  ‘Yes. They’re my countryfolk and they make me feel ashamed.’ He kicked the foot of the capstan beside him. ‘All right. You didn’t turn the ships for a quick get-away?’

  Yarwan smiled. ‘That would be bad for morale. But the engineer has steam on, and both ships have their mooring lines prepared to leave in hurry.’

  Jurgis laughed. ‘Devious fellow. Still, it’s good to be prepared.’ He looked around the ship. All looked so tidy, so ordinary. Strange to think an enemy was about to attack. He coughed to hide a sob. Damn, I’m getting soft! ‘Is Basil still asleep?’

  ‘No, he’s at the castle with the magicians. He talked about preparing that big balcony overlooking the square for his act. That keeps his supporting mages out of the line of fire.’

  ‘The balcony!’ Jurgis said. ‘Then he’ll have seen me marching up and down with a broom over my shoulder, like some performing monkey. Damn, what a day.’ He patted Yarwan’s shoulder. ‘I’m going to the castle.’

  ‘They’re here! They’re here!’ The young messenger girl ran screaming into the castle, straight to Jurgis’ arms.

  ‘Hey, easy, girl,’ Jurgis said, putting her back on her feet. ‘Don’t scare the whole town. Now, take a nice deep breath and tell me.’

  ‘He’s here,’ she said, near to tears. ‘I saw his soldiers meself! They’re almost at the broken gate.’

  ‘Fine; great news you bring! We’ll receive the bastard like he’s never been received before. Run up to the commander’s room and tell the Spellwarden and the lioness. Quietly, like a good messenger. Tell them I’ll be taking a look from the air.’

  Jurgis landed on a rooftop near the gates in time to see the cavalcade enter. The Strapan didn’t look very pleased at the sight of the ruined doors and the wreckage in the street. He gestured, pointing around and beating the side of his mount. Four riders on fast spelldrakes hurried to find a safe route that led the Strapan’s massive beast around the worst obstacles. Jurgis chuckled and hopped over to the castle.

  ‘The Strapan is pissed,’ he said to Maud, who had retreated with her town guards to the great hall of the castle. ‘He hadn’t expected the wreckage, I guess.’

  ‘He’s inside then,’ Maud said. ‘Great. I’ve a little job for you, my love. One you will like.’

  ‘Tell,’ Jurgis said, rubbing his hands.

  ‘Here.’ The lioness handed him three glass balls about the size of his hand, filled with gray mist. ‘I found them in the armory.’

  ‘What are they? They look like that malignance spell of the Wicked Witch.’

  ‘Nothing that bad,’ Maud said. ‘They’re smoke grenades. Just lob them from on high at that big beast the Strapan is riding.’

  ‘Won’t those guards of yours be in the way? I wouldn’t want them trampled.’

  ‘When you hear my signal, you drop the bombs. Then the guards will empty their muskets at the enemy and run inside like little hares. Next it’s Basil’s turn.’ She hesitated. ‘All right, it’s dangerous. It all relies on speed. Your speed.’

  Jurgis grinned. ‘I know. I can’t ask Basil for a protective spell, not if I want to drop those grenades. Don’t worry; I’ll be fast and careful. How will we keep the Strapan alive?’

  ‘Basil has a trick for that. Some sort of protection spell. He can do it from a distance, but it will last at most fifteen minutes.’

  Jurgis whistled. ‘So we must be quick about it.’

  ‘Yes. And the protected gentlemen won’t be able to run, either. They’ll be a bit shaken when it’s all over.’

  ‘I won’t blame them for that; they’ll be in the middle of it all. I ...’ The peal of a trumpet interrupted him. ‘There they are. Take care, dear heart.’ Jurgis flitted away to the castle’s battlements, cradling the smoky globes. From his perch between two stone merlons, he had a perfect view of the square. Left and right were rows of once stately houses, mostly in ruins and left to collapse. The heaps of rubble in front of them looked random from below, but from the air it was clear they had been replaced to narrow the field Basil’s lightning would have to cover. Clever Maud, he thought.

  Something moved and he saw the four outriders enter the square.

  ‘Damn, they’re singers,’ Jurgis muttered, seeing their blue robes and floppy hats. ‘Have a care, brother.’ They rode around as if inspecting the perimeter for assassins, and then took up station at each corner, so together they covered the whole area with their spells.

  Now the retinue appeared, the well-dressed courtiers on their sleek mounts, the soldiers and finally the Strapan’s mount appeared, seeking its way slowly past the rubble. Again, a trumpet blared, and the town guards marched out, ramrod-straight, arms sw
aying in time with their legs.

  ‘They’re brave enough,’ Jurgis said to himself. ‘Playing soldier under the eye of those singers must scare the shit out of them.’ He watched Rebeca, dapper in her purloined uniform, lift her sword, and the column halted.

  ‘Let’s go.’ Jurgis pushed off and hovered over the cavalcade. ‘There!’ A horn, deep and stirring, sounded from the castle. ‘Maud’s signal!’ With suddenly sweaty hands, Jurgis closed one eye and dropped the first smoke grenade. It hit the ground right in front of the grouped courtiers, and burst with a flash and billowing smoke. The spelldrakes weren’t created to feel fear and by themselves they wouldn’t react to the noise, but their riders did and tried to get away. The four singers raced around the group, looking for the miscreant who’d thrown the bomb and herding the courtiers back into position. Jurgis chuckled at the panic and he dropped the second one, with the third immediately after it. He cursed as a red beam shot past, its heat singeing his hair. Damn, they saw me! He made himself as small as he could and turned away, seconds before another beam hurtled through the spot he’d just left. Back to the battlements! The broom landed and he turned to look at the pandemonium below. At that moment, another beam of red-hot light splattered against the nearest merlon. A hail of broken stones caught him in the face. He screamed with fright and pain as, still clutching the broom, he was hurled backward from the rampart into the inner courtyard, some fifty feet below. The broom saved his life. It was still operational and on becoming airborne, it switched to its last command and landed its bloodied and battered rider softly on the roof of an old stable.

  On the balcony, Basil heard the signal. Quickly he secured the Strapan, leaving him in a transparent bubble on top of his elephant. The little parasol-bearer didn’t hesitate. He jumped to the ground and took to his heels, disappearing into the maze of streets beyond the square.

  Basil nodded. Someone will find him for me; he may have information. He filed the thought away. He saw the smoke grenade explode, and grinned at the ensuing panic. Twin’s making an impression. Basil lifted his arms to the sky. It was a signal and the town’s magic-users behind him stirred. He had sweated over this, to get the maximum effect with the available power. Two more explosions rolled over the square, and for a moment, thick smoke obscured his view. He saw a red flash and stiffened. They’re shooting at twin! Hurriedly, he started his spell and darkness gathered over the Unwaari heads. Through his concentration he heard the town guards fire a ragged volley into the massed soldiers and on Rebeca’s command ran back to the safety of the castle.