Rotherius snarled a command, and the masked assassins sprang forward, swords and daggers a blur of steel. Ridmark and his companions moved just as quickly. Gavin planted himself before Calliande, shield and sword ready, and the Magistria herself began casting a spell. Kharlacht and Caius broke right and left, charging to meet the assassins’ attack, while Ridmark moved like a gray-cloaked storm, his staff a dark blur in his hand.
But Morigna focused upon Jonas.
She drew upon her magic, letting the power of the earth flood through her. Her mind expanded, and she felt the ground beneath her boots, the stone bones of the earth spread below her like a skeleton draped in mud. She commanded the ground beneath Jonas to turn to quicksand, to suck him into the earth. The spell would hold him immobile until Ridmark questioned him.
Or until Morigna decided to kill him. Ridmark, for all his strength, seemed like the sort of man to show mercy to defeated enemies. Valorous, certainly, but foolish.
A dead enemy could do you no harm.
She gestured at him, and Jonas grinned.
The tentacle of shadow unwrapped from his arm and shot toward her with blinding speed. It wrapped around her like a rope, and Morigna screamed in sudden pain. She had no idea what kind of magic he had used, but it felt like a chain made of ice.
And it disrupted her concentration, shattering her spell.
Morigna slumped to her knees, fighting against the agony that flooded through her.
###
Calliande cast a spell, drawing on the magic of the Well despite her shock and alarm. The assassins of the Red Family were frightening, and she might die in the next few moments.
But the revelation about Shadowbearer alarmed her more.
When she had first learned of the Enlightened of Incariel, she had assumed they were simply another esoteric cult, a collection of fools pursuing forbidden knowledge. Such things had happened at various times through Andomhaim’s history. But then the Watcher had appeared in her dreams and warned her against the Enlightened, telling her that they were a tool of Shadowbearer.
And now, if Jonas had told the truth, the Enlightened were Shadowbearer’s willing allies.
The strange shadow writhing around Jonas’s sword arm seemed to prove the Watcher correct. It reminded Calliande of the shadow cast by Shadowbearer himself. It had crawled and hissed around him like a living serpent. When she had been dragged before him, naked and bound and helpless, she knew that a single touch of that terrible shadow would bring death. But he had intended to sacrifice her within a dark elven stone circle, binding her power to the empty soulstone.
The empty soulstone she now carried.
She felt a brief flicker of defiant pride. Apparently Shadowbearer had decided that she was too dangerous to keep alive.
Morigna fell with a cry of pain, Jonas’s shadow coiling around her like a rope. Caius charged to the left, swinging his mace, while Kharlacht struck right, driving back a pair of the skull-masked assassins. Gavin raised his shield and set himself before Calliande. Ridmark ran at Jonas, while Rotherius and a second Red Brother moved to intercept him.
White fire burn around Calliande’s hands as her spell flared to life. The light leapt from her fingers and soaked into her friends, and a moment later they moved faster, her magic enhancing their speed. The assassins fell back beneath the invigorated assault.
Then Jonas’s hard eyes shifted to her, and he pointed his sword.
A tentacle of shadow lashed from the sword blade like a whip and struck Calliande. She screamed in pain as icy agony filled her, and her concentration shattered. The spell collapsed, and the enhanced speed faded from Ridmark and the others.
“My lady!” shouted Gavin, slashing at the ribbon of shadow with his sword, but the blade passed through it.
“Kill the Magistria!” said Jonas. “Now!”
Two of the assassins turned toward her, and Gavin rushed to meet them, shield raised and sword drawn back.
Calliande tried to stand, but the icy cold from Jonas’s shadow would not leave her.
###
Ridmark tried to reach Jonas, but Rotherius and a second assassin of the Red Family intercepted him, their skull masks seeming to grin. Both men wielded sword and dagger, and came at him with the skill of men accustomed to fighting alongside each other.
That was bad. Ridmark had killed two Red Brothers in Aranaeus. But the fight had been close, dangerously close, and if Ridmark had been a half-second slower, Paul Tallmane and his hired assassins would have killed him.
And now he faced six sons of the Red Family.
But Ridmark had help. Kharlacht and Caius battled four of the assassins, and Gavin stood guard over Calliande. Both Calliande and Morigna had fallen to their knees, their faces twisted in pain from the touch of Jonas’s strange shadow. Jonas himself strode forward, shadows wreathing his sword.
Apparently becoming one of the Initiated brought powers in dark magic…though Ridmark had never seen magic like that before.
Then the assassins charged Ridmark, and he had no more time for thought.
Rotherius came in a rush, sword and dagger thrusting, while the second assassin circled to the right. Ridmark saw the game – Rotherius wanted to hold his attention while the second assassin attacked from the side. But Ridmark’s longer weapon gave him a greater reach, and he stepped back, gripping the bottom third of his staff with both hands.
His swing drove back Rotherius, and the assassin on the right lunged for the kill. But Ridmark reversed his grip on the staff and thrust the weapon like a spear. Its steel-shod head drove into the assassin’s red cuirass hard enough to dimple the leather, and the assassin staggered back. Before either Rotherius or the stunned assassin recovered, Ridmark reversed his grip on the staff yet again and swung it with all his strength. The length of heavy wood slammed into the side of the second assassin’s head with a clang. The skull mask was part of a steel helmet, and Ridmark doubted his blow had killed the assassin. Yet it had stunned the man, and Ridmark charged Rotherius, hoping to strike him down before the other assassin recovered.
Yet Rotherius met Ridmark’s attack with skill and speed. His sword went right, deflecting the thrust of Ridmark’s staff. Ridmark spun the weapon, hoping to line up another strike, but Rotherius lunged with his dagger, and Ridmark had to dodge. Then Jonas jumped into the fray, shadows dancing around his sword, and Ridmark retreated. He did not know what would happen if those swirling shadows touched his skin, but he suspected it would not be pleasant.
“Fall and die, Gray Knight,” said Jonas with a laugh. Two ropes of shadow rippled from his sword, coiling around Morigna and Calliande. Rotherius started to stab, but Jonas slashed, disrupting the masked assassin’s attack. “Go on, twirl that little stick of yours. Perhaps I’ll mount your head upon it when I present your corpse to the Dux.”
Jonas might have been an Enlightened of Incariel and an Initiated of the Second Circle, but he was not a very good swordsman. He swung again, getting in Rotherius’s way.
And leaving an opening a mile wide in his defenses.
Ridmark rammed his staff into Jonas’s chest with all his strength. The chain mail hauberk grated against the staff’s metal tip, but Ridmark heard the sound of a snapping rib. Jonas stumbled back with a grunt, and Ridmark swung again. The staff connected with the wrist of Jonas’s sword hand, and again bones snapped. Jonas dropped his sword with a scream and backed away, the shadows around the blade winking out.
Ridmark raised his staff for the kill, but Rotherius and the second assassin attacked, forcing him back.
###
The shadowy coil binding Calliande winked out, and the icy pain eased.
But it did not vanish entirely.
She struggled to her feet, summoning the magic of the Well, white fire burning around her fingers.
And as she did, something emerged from the mist that choked her memory.
The strange shadows. She had seen them before, somewhere in her past before she had gone into t
he long sleep below the Tower of Vigilance. She had faced the shadows.
And she was still alive.
Which meant she knew how to fight them.
“Lady Calliande?” said Gavin.
“Help Caius, now,” said Calliande. Kharlacht held his own against the two assassins, protected by his dark elven armor and the longer reach of his greatsword, but Caius fell back, pursued by his two foes, a vicious gash across his forehead.
Gavin sprinted at the Red Brothers menacing the dwarven friar. One of the assassins turned to face him, and Caius got his footing back, breathing hard as he raised his mace to block. Kharlacht roared a malediction in orcish and struck with his greatsword, and one of the Red Brothers fell, his head rolling from the bloody stump of his neck. Ridmark dueled Rotherius and a second assassin, while Jonas huddled behind them, shadows crawling around him as he clutched his right arm.
Morigna remained on her knees, still shuddering despite the removal of Jonas’s shadow coil. Likely she had never faced such an attack before, and did not know how to fight it off.
And apparently, neither statement was true about Calliande.
She drew upon as much magic as she could hold. Ridmark’s staff blurred and slammed into the forehead of a masked assassin with a clang. The man toppled in silence, the forehead of his crimson skull dented. Rotherius drove at Ridmark, sword and dagger striking against the blur of Ridmark’s spinning staff.
Calliande flung out her hands, and white fire drilled into Jonas.
It couldn’t hurt him. A Magistria’s power could neither harm nor kill living mortals. But it attacked the dark magic swirling around the self-proclaimed Initiated of Incariel, and Jonas screamed in sudden agony and fell to one knee, his eyes wide with surprise. She saw the terror on his face as the shadows flickered beneath her white fire.
But the shadows closed around him like wings and repulsed her flames. The shadows wrapped tight around him, and Calliande felt a pulse of power as they healed his injuries. Jonas snarled, snatched up his sword, and charged at her, shadows coiling around his blade.
They leapt from his sword and flew at her like winged serpents.
But Calliande knew how to fight them.
She raised her hands, fingers hooked into claws, and worked a spell of warding and protection, similar to the one she had used against Agrimnalazur in Urd Arowyn. A shell of white light flared around her, and the tentacles of shadow slammed into it. The spell hissed and snarled beneath the strain, the light flickering. Calliande gritted her teeth and drew on more power, fighting to keep the ward in place. Her magic was strong…but so were the shadows pouring from Jonas’s sword.
Step by step Jonas staggered towards her, lips peeled back in a snarl, sword raised to strike. She had no power left to strike at him, none left to ward herself against his weapons.
Calliande looked for aid, but Morigna was still stunned, and Ridmark and the others struggled against the assassins.
Jonas drew closer.
###
Ridmark jumped back, just avoiding the edge of Rotherius’s sword.
The red-masked assassin was a masterful swordsman, one of the best Ridmark had ever fought. And unlike most swordsmen, he knew how to fight a man with a quarterstaff. The second assassin had not, and lay dead upon the ground.
Ridmark dodged another thrust, jumped back, and saw that the others had not fared as well.
Volleys of shadow and white fire ripped back and forth between Calliande and Jonas, yet Jonas seemed to have the upper hand. Blood dripped down Caius’s face, and both Kharlacht and Gavin had taken wounds. Morigna remained upon her knees, shuddering from whatever Jonas’s magic had done to her.
Unless Ridmark changed the balance of the fight, they were going to die.
An idea came to him, mad and wild. It might work. It might get them all killed. It would very likely get Ridmark killed, but that hardly mattered. But that was the point – Ridmark was only an obstacle to Jonas Vorinus. Jonas wanted Morigna and the empty soulstone. With Morigna overpowered, Jonas needed only to capture the soulstone.
And Ridmark would give him the opportunity.
He launched a series of thrusts and swings at Rotherius, putting the Red Brother on the defensive. Rotherius stepped back, and Ridmark landed a minor hit upon him. The assassin grunted, but rather than follow up with another attack, Ridmark turned and sprinted.
He ran at Calliande. He glimpsed her face, full of pain and determination, and he snatched the leather pouch from her belt.
“Ridmark!” she said. “What…”
“Is this what you want, Jonas?” said Ridmark, holding the pouch over his head. “The soulstone! When I throw it into the swamp, do you think you’ll find it again? Lower your weapons, or you can see how Shadowbearer rewards failure!”
“No!” roared Jonas. “Stop him! Kill him and take that damned stone!”
Ridmark turned, jammed the pouch into his belt, and sprinted down the path.
And as he hoped, Jonas and the four surviving assassins followed him, leaving the others behind.
###
Calliande caught her breath and gathered her power, preparing to strike at the shadows wreathing Jonas.
But Sir Jonas and the surviving assassins sprinted away down the path in pursuit of Ridmark. Calliande started after them, frustration and anger warring inside of her. What was Ridmark doing? Was he sacrificing his life to save them? Fool! Even if he succeeded, Jonas would only kill him and take the empty soulstone back to Shadowbearer, and God alone knew what kind of evil the high elven wizard would work with it…
Then her mind caught up to her raging emotions.
Ridmark had a plan. He was indifferent to his own survival, but he was not suicidal. If he had drawn off Jonas and the Red Family, he had done so for a reason.
Meanwhile, Calliande had her own tasks.
She hurried over to Caius, who was breathing hard, red blood marking his gray skin.
“Lady Calliande,” said Caius, “Ridmark…we must…”
“Quiet,” said Calliande, summoning magic and lifting her hands.
She placed her palms upon Caius’s head. For a moment she felt the pain of the wounds in his head and arm, the agony of them flooding through her as if they had been carved into her own flesh, and she gritted her teeth and tried not to scream.
But the pain faded, and the white light washing from her hands closed Caius’s wounds.
Calliande took a ragged breath and stepped back.
“Thank you,” said Caius, “but that was not necessary. You should save your strength. Ridmark…”
“Ridmark,” said Calliande as Kharlacht joined them, “knows what he is doing. And if you bleed to death, Brother Caius, poor Kharlacht and Gavin will have to carry your corpse all the way back to Dun Licinia.”
“And you are far too heavy for that,” said Kharlacht.
Calliande glanced at Morigna, saw that the black-haired sorceress was still on her knees, shivering. Whatever Jonas had done to her was still working. Calliande would deal with Gavin’s and Kharlacht’s wounds, and then…
A thunderclap rang out over the marshes.
###
Ridmark ran into the marsh and found what he sought.
He took a deep breath and scrambled up a nearby grassy hill, the massive trees rising around him with their veils of hanging moss. Ridmark yanked what he needed from the pouches on his belt and prepared himself.
A moment later Jonas Vorinus and the assassins came into sight, splashing through the water at the base of the hill.
“Ah,” said Jonas with satisfaction. “There are you are.” Shadows swirled around the blade of his sword. Evidently whatever strange powers the Enlightened had given him had been strong enough to heal his wrist.
“One chance, Jonas,” said Ridmark. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“You already killed two of the Family in Aranaeus,” said Rotherius in his harsh voice, “and two more upon the hill. Your life is already forfeit
.”
“And how,” said Jonas, “are you going to kill us? We are five, and I am an Initiated of the Second Circle of the Enlightened of Incariel. You are one man with a stick and…did you set that dagger on fire?”
Ridmark lifted his dagger with his right hand, the blade wrapped in a burning cloth.
“A burning dagger?” said Jonas, laughing as he took another step forward. “How droll. They took away your Soulblade, and so you replaced it with a dagger and a rag.”
He laughed again, as did the other assassins.
Rotherius, however, did not, his skull mask looking at the water.
“Jonas,” said the assassin. “I think…”
A bubble broke the surface of the water, accompanied by a pungent odor.
Jonas looked at the water, then at Ridmark, dawning horror spreading across his face.
Ridmark tossed the burning dagger into the water and threw himself to the ground.
A heartbeat later a howling roar filled his ears, and a wall of hot air slammed into him. Ridmark rolled several paces, coughing and wheezing. At last the terrible roar faded, and Ridmark used his staff to pull himself to his feet.
The burning corpses of three skull-masked men floated in the water. Jonas staggered backward, his arm charred black, his face red from heat, his hair burned away. There was no sign of Rotherius.
Ridmark descended the hill and headed toward Jonas.
“No!” croaked Jonas, raising his hands. “No!” He spat in fury. “This isn’t over, Arban! Aid me. Aid me!”
Shadows swirled around him, and he disappeared. No doubt he had used his power to turn invisible once again. Ridmark swung his staff at the space Jonas had occupied, but only met empty air.
Footprints. If he had turned invisible, there would be footprints. Ridmark whirled, but saw no splashing, no footprints, no sign of Jonas.
Frostborn: The Undying Wizard Page 12
