by Kyle J Cisco
“Good. That will bolster the forces covering the wall quite well, as long as he brought what’s promised.”
As if knowing they were ready for his arrival, the lord of House Castelliano entered the room. The man looked a few years over thirty with a withering hairline and slender build. He wore an elaborate set of leather armor and carried two broadswords, one on each hip. He moved with the swagger of a warrior who knew his worth on the field. Seeing this made Evon want to test his mettle in battle, but now was the time for business, not swordplay.
“Greetings, Lord Steward of the Fortress of Light.” The lord executed a courteous bow. “I have brought with me all the men I could muster.”
“What are their numbers?”
“A mere four thousand levies, and a host of two hundred and twenty paid soldiers as well as the men from my personal bodyguard.”
“This is less than is promised in the ledger for raising the banners in times of war. Lord Castelliano, must I remind you of your obligation to the Order of Dvorak for living under the protection of the Covenant?”
“I do not need to be reminded of my obligations.”
“Then the question stands. Why you have not fulfilled your obligation to the Order? Where are the rest of your men, Lord Castelliano?”
“I shall send word back to my castle and make them available to you, my lord steward. I was only thinking of the protection of my lands during my absence.”
“This lapse will not be forgiven again, lord. The next time you violate this agreement, it will cost you in forfeiture of lands and possessions. Do I make myself clear on that?”
“Yes, steward.” The man bowed low.
“Get up off the ground, man. You are not a dog; you are a lord of the Covenant of Man. Don’t let this happen again and further embarrass your house.” Evon gave the lord a dismissive hand gesture.
Castelliano hesitated toward the door, hanging his head low. His pride was stung, of that Evon was sure.
Laura burst out laughing right as the door to the office closed. “Holy shit!”
Evon glanced from where the man had been groveling on the floor before him just a few seconds earlier to Laura laughing. “May I ask what is so funny, sister? I thought you sisters were a more serious bunch.”
“Sorr—sorry, Evon—I just was expecting a bit more restraint from you, but you surely know your way around the bullshit of politics.”
“Yes, I do, and I don’t like them interfering in times of war. That’s what got me a knife in the back from my own brother. So no, I don’t play those games. I’ll tell it straight, and if they don’t like it, they will deal with it or forfeit their properties back to the Covenant.”
And Evon found himself smiling once again. Something inside softened for this women who actually believed he could do it, that he could lead the Order in such desperate times as these.
Shaking off that thought, he said, “Shall we go and inspect the new troops, give them a proper count?”
Standing up from his chair, he gestured to let her out from behind the large desk first, though not out of chivalry but out of a manly interest in seeing her ass once more as she strode in front of him on the long walk to eastern courtyard.
“Enjoying the view, Evon?”
Evon’s cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he said, “Just making sure you are in proper attire to be seen by the men of House Castellano. Wouldn’t want them to try to take advantage of someone such as yourself. It would be terribly hard to count with all the boys howling at you in heated excitement.”
He winked at her and she shoved him as they continued down the corridors toward the eastern courtyard. An odd feeling grew in the pit of his stomach for the women next to him. His eyes lingering too long and a stupid grin hung on his face, but somehow, he liked it.
14
The dim mess hall was abuzz with movement as the goblins within feasted and fought amongst each other. Natasha entered first, sneaking across the large room. She made it nearly halfway through the mess hall when Virgil and Rex set out as well. Virgil slipped through the shadows along the outskirts of the large room while Rex took a more direct approach, crawling under the first large row of tables along the edge of the room.
A goblin snuffled the air. Virgil froze. He’d forgotten about the goblins’ keen sense of smell. As more goblins took up sniffing, Virgil knew they’d made a horrible mistake that they would pay for soon. Rex must have sensed something was amiss as he began to move over to the corner of the room where Virgil stood. Most of the goblins on their feet now, scouring the room for the man flesh. Rex pulled his mace from his belt. Virgil did the same with a dagger he slid from his boot.
Crawling faster now, the men covered a good amount of space while Natasha stood by a doorway, ready to provide cover with her crossbow if they were to need it. While passing a doorway off to his right, Virgil noticed the goblins were then inspecting the table that Rex had emerged from not a few moments before. Then the door swung open, smacking Virgil in the face. Blood flowed from his nose. A thousand goblin eyes swiveled in his direction and locked on the two men on the floor.
Virgil jumping to his feet, driving his blade deep into neck of the goblin who had opened the doors, eliciting a gurgled shriek and stream of blood from its neck. The goblins howled, rushing forward. The closest one fell, hit in the face with a bolt from Natasha. Sprinting flat out, the men ran toward the door at the far side of the room. As they reached the door, Natasha felled two more goblins and closed the door. Virgil jammed a piece of wood through the handles to give them a few more seconds of running before the makeshift barricade broke under the force of the goblins’ wrath.
Sprinting through the unfamiliar labyrinth of corridors and halls, they soon lost track of their direction. They turned off the main corridor and into a hall and barred the door once more, hoping the horde might pass them by, but there was no such luck. Virgil and the others began looking for another way out while the door shuddered and cracked. Virgil counted down the seconds till they would have to take on as many of them as they could.
With one last thunderous crash, the door sprung from its hinges and hit the floor, kicking up a stream of dust in its wake. Virgil rushed into combat with the first through the door, hoping to hold them off while his friends found a way out, but Rex and Natasha both joined him in combat.
Virgil had taken down four already with relative ease, but there were more and more pouring through the door, screeching, leaping, slashing out with dull weapons at the intruders who had ruined their meal. Falling into a rolling kick, he grabbed a goblin lunging at him and flipped him over with ease, using his momentum to dash the creature against the floor. Jumping to his feet, Virgil was struck in the back with a dull sword blow. It staggered Virgil, but he swung around, driving his dagger into the face of his goblin attacker. Hair prickled on the back of his neck—a blow was coming from behind again. He slung his ax over his shoulder to deflect the strike, then drew his blade back from the chest of the one he had felled, whirling around to face a goblin with a horribly malformed face that looked vaguely elven.
Virgil ducked another blow from the goblin and came up with his ax, slicing straight across the thing’s neck, severing its head and spouting a fountain of black blood before the rest of the body toppled to the floor. Another came running at him but was struck with a blast of light that threw the creature into the wall. Once free, Virgil rushed toward the door, hoping to find some way to get his friends out of there. He summoned up his will and released a weak blast of light. Virgil groaned at his dwindling ability to touch the power of the Light in this dark place.
His anger sent a new wave of fighting adrenaline through his veins and he lashed out with his fury, remembering all his friends he’d seen die on this bloody mission. A blast of red energy erupted forward, slamming his opponents into disintegration.
Virgil slumped to his knees. He looked at his left hand and noticed that the blast of energy that came from him melted the dagger he he
ld. All that was left was the hilt. Dropping the useless thing, he tried to stand but tumbled to his knees.
Rex grabbed Virgil by his arm and raised him back to his feet. “Virgil, what the hell was that?”
“I don’t know—it just kind of happened.” Turning his left hand over to look at his palm, his hand glowed with residual energy. “I was furious for a second, it just came out, and now they’re all gone.”
“You tapped into the power of a force I have never before seen. Please be careful and try not to release that again. It could be something connected to the darkness.”
Cold shame washed over Virgil. His mentor looked grave and worse—scared.
“Yes, Executor, it will not happen again.”
As he stepped through the ashen corridor, he realizing the full extent of what he had done. A dozen more bodies littered the hallway. Virgil looked again at his hand. The glowing red had faded but he could feel the power lingering within his grasp. The thought of that scared Virgil. He slowed his breathing, becoming calmer, and pulling the power of the Light back into his body.
“Do we know where we are in relation to the mess hall?” Rex asked.
But there was no sign.
“Perhaps, master, we can meditate and find a way out. That’s how I found the ladder exit in the caverns during the trials.”
Rex nodded in agreement and knelled down facing Virgil. Natasha kept watch on the corridor.
Virgil closed his eyes, focusing so hard it felt like hours passed, but once he rose out of the meditative state, he realized only seconds had gone by. “I know the way out,” he said.
Rising from his knees, he lit the pendant of light once more. This time his light was tainted with a hint of red in its center. Rex shot Virgil a weary look which Virgil ignored as he headed left. The way seemed clear of enemies but Virgil sensed a cold seeping through the air. He drew his ax and continued softly toward a bend in to the pathway ahead.
Rex sent a tendril of light around the corner. A wail of pain reverberating through the hallway and not one but two specters sprang at them, both wielding weapons. One carried a large two-handed sword of serrated metal, and the other an executioner’s ax stained with the brown of old blood.
Virgil clashed with the enemy with the ax while Rex and Natasha faced off against the foe with the serrated sword. The ax came down in a heavy handed overhand chop that sparked against the stone floor, sending pieces of rock into all directions. Holding his ground, Virgil chopped toward the creature’s the midsection; it jumped back with a hair between its body and Virgil’s ax blade. Cursing, Virgil raised his hand and hurled the specter into the wall with a blast of red energy. Virgil looked in shock as another incident of red made him wonder whether his magic was being degraded, or electrified to new levels.
The specter twitched under the force of red energy. Virgil reached out with his left hand, which was now engulfed in the red energy, and grasped him by the throat. Flames erupted from his hood, flicking back to reveal a scarred but human visage. Virgil crushed his windpipe, dropping the specter and his large ax to the ground. Virgil hefted up his battle-ax and charged full bore at the enemy with the sword, sounding off with a war cry.
Caught off guard, the specter barely dodged Virgil’s first blow, but Virgil used his momentum from the first swing to spin his ax and bring it up, catching the specter square in the chin, ripping the cloth of the hood in two. It fluttered down, revealing another human face, this one feminine, but with two black holes for eyes and a mouth sewn shut. Virgil shuddered but drove the blade of his giant ax down, splitting her face in two, and with a kick to the chest, wrenched the blade loose and dropped yet another foe.
Moving on around the bend, they ended up in a vast meeting hall. The place looked like a shrine to the dark gods of old. There in the hall stood a dozen or so statues of monsters and insects as large as a man. There was, however, one god that Virgil did recognize. It was a man clothed in black with bandages covering all but the mouth.
“The Faceless One,” Virgil said as he neared the statue.
“Are you sure, Virgil?” Rex asked. As he came up next to his pupil, he tried to read the etchings below the statue, but the words of the ancient dwellers had been lost for many years.
“There’s no way he could have been around during the time of the civilized dweller cities, is there?” Virgil said.
Rex shrugged. Moving farther through the shrine, they saw more figures standing silent vigil. Passing one of the statues, Virgil felt cold creep down his spine. Above him stood a statue of a man in a beaked mask, sharp and cruel.
“Do you know who this one is, Rex? I felt a chill just now.”
Rex inspected the statue in the full light of his pendant.
“That is the first Dark One of the Shadowlands. Once the younger son of the Kingdom of Scimbor, greed and ambition led him to forsake his title. He raised an army of the magic users his father the king oppressed. Defeating his brother in battle, the newly crowned king renamed the capitol the Black Spire. Darkness corrupted the lands and new king gave up his humanity for a deeper understanding of the dark arts. Those events marked the First War of Darkness and the Rise of the Shadow Kingdom. It is said that he went into hiding after Dvorak’s conquest of the shadowlands in the Second War of Darkness. It is also said that he was killed in that battle but no records of that battle survive. That was the battle that claimed both Dvorak and his bodyguard’s life. No one knows for sure what became of him. That was nearly a hundred and fifty years ago now.”
“Rex, I need the truth about my parents. Is there a connection between me and the line of Dvorak?”
“In time, Virgil, all will be known. In time. But for now, we must continue with the mission,” said Rex.
“Damn it, Rex! When have I ever asked anything from you? Why can’t you give me the answers I seek? Put my mind at ease.”
“We will speak no more of it.” Rex’s mouth drew in a thin line.
Virgil looked once more at the statue, stewing over what this Dark Lord might mean for the mission. Then he stormed off toward the door.
They made their way into the next room which seemed more ornate than the last. Tapestries still hung from the ceiling, woven in threads of purple and black into the sigil of the exiled dark magic users. Virgil remembered the stories he had heard as a child about the persecution of those who used blood magic and plagues to gain power.
“This is no dweller city,” Virgil said. “It’s the remnants of those who first turned to darkness.”
“Why do you suspect that?” Natasha asked.
“Location is right. This is where the fallen army would be near. It was said that the stronghold of the enemy here was never found after the battle ended,” Rex said.
Rex looked down at the inscriptions on the floor and motioned for the other to look. The group followed the black footprints engraved into the smooth limestone floors. Hearing a voice and feeling a stinging chill, they moved to the back of the room.
Virgil followed the cold until it led him to a torn tapestry hanging on the wall.
“Do you see that?” Rex asked, pointing at the corner that moved just slightly.
“Yes, air movement. Is something—” Natasha didn’t finish her question but snatched the tapestry aside. There was a door.
Virgil pushed—it opened. The door creaked like cats being crushed to death. The friends winced as the noise reverberated off the stone walls. Before them lay a stairway spiraling down into a void.
Virgil headed in first, followed by Natasha and Rex bringing up the rear and shutting the door behind them. The cold grew in intensity as they made their way farther and farther down the stairs. The chanting they heard earlier was now at its lowest, but dull thuds could still be heard coming from the mess hall above them.
The cold of the darkness pressed in on Virgil, penetrating into his bones and into his very soul. It felt as though his eyes would freeze in his skull, but he remembered Rex telling him that the cold was on
ly an illusory manifestation of the Darkness. They they were getting closer to those dwelling in the deep of this underground fortress. Those who perfected the ways of dark magic. Those who sold their souls in return for power, glory, and revenge against those who had banished them.
15
The group had made it far into the cold tunnels underneath the ancient structure. Moving quickly along with his red-tinged orb, Virgil led his friends toward a gray light peeking through a door at the end of the tunnel.
He placed his hand on the door, knowing that behind it might very well be the greatest foe he had yet to face. Asking the Mother of Light for help in a wordless prayer, Virgil pushed the door open. Torchlight flooded the corridor as all three friends moved into the room. It was empty.
“We must be close now,” Virgil said as he made his way across the room.
There at the center of the room stood a dais with a table. Nothing was on the table except a single book lying open. Moving over to the dais, Virgil studied the words on the page. It looked as if it was a history of the battle from long ago, and the words were accompanied by a detailed drawing of battle combat on the next page. Reading further, there was much said of the units lost by the side of Darkness and the forces of Light.
“We must move, Virgil, we cannot linger here,” Rex said, coming up next to Virgil. “We can come back for the book after we deal with the problem at hand.”
Nodding in agreement, Virgil moved through the next doorway to find that room empty but lit up as well. Surprised at the sheer amount of opulence in the room’s construction, Virgil guessed that these rooms must be of importance.
“The door is locked. Rex, use your hammer and take it down?” Natasha said, pushing against the door once more.
Moving forward with his hammer ready, Rex hefted it and swung with all his might. Splinters of wood burst into the room and the thick wooden door crashed to the floor.
