The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series)

by Gosnell, David

  Chapter 6

  I don’t think I did too badly. I beat Shey’s expectation by at least five times over. That is I probably lasted a minute – the first time. That’s not bad for a man who hasn’t had any sexual contact for almost twenty five years. And much, much longer than that with anyone other than his wife.

  That first time rocked Shey to her core; leaving her at least as overwhelmed as I was, trembling and muttering many sweet things. It’s apparently true, just like when my summonlings physically hurt me, they receive multiples of the damage – when they physically please me, it appears to be the same - in a much better way.

  Some guys might think that’s cool. I know it for what it is: a means of control, damn near Pavlovian. Hurt bad. Pleasure good. Do as I say.

  Ick.

  Our second round was much more on par with my male ego. Shey is a playful, communicative lover. It was a good time for both of us. But now I lay here, Shey curled up next to me and all I can think of is what Dory must be thinking looking down on me from above.

  My wife Dorothy is my guardian angel of sorts. She passed away and I know she’s looking over me - because she showed herself. I hope she turned an eye, even though she gave Shey and I “permission” some time ago when physical intimacy became difficult at best for her.

  I feel a quick kiss on my cheek and look over to see Shey on her elbow looking at me with concern. “Dorothy would be happy that you are happy. You should be happy again,” she tells me.

  “Yea,” seems like the only thing to say, so I do with a smile.

  “If you need help getting happy again, I can do that” - she exclaims bouncing up to her knees and smiling mischievously at me.

  Then the phone rings. I think we’re both a little dismayed at it. “Don’t!” she tells me, but I do. I reach over and grab the phone. It’s a Protectorate call.

  The team must be needed.

  I answer and find much to my surprise it’s Alistair Burningwood – the chancellor of the Protectorate and general big muckity-muck. I am never contacted by this man directly, only through layers at his command. This must be something.

  After a round of pleasantries, he tells me there is a dark practitioner in Covington that must be “addressed.” He lets me know that the normal assignment via email through the secure-net will not happen as the phones and lines have been compromised. He gives me an address.

  “Arthur, be very careful and keep phone silence,” he tells me. “We will be express mailing you a new phone. It should arrive tomorrow. Things are beginning to turn ugly Arthur, events are unfolding that are unprecedented. Please take care of this for us, as quickly as possible.”

  I try to ask him about what these events are. All I get is a, “we can’t be sure the phones are secure. You will be briefed after your mission. At this point I can’t promise you that your arrival isn’t known. My phone is secure, yours… enough said. Go and God speed.”

  And with that he hangs up.

  “What is it Arthur?” my naked fairy princess asks me.

  “It’s work Shey,” I tell her. “It’s time to get going.”

  Chapter 7

  Christophe LeBlanc was coming home after a long day at a neighbor's barn. He was assisting with the birth of a calf and unfortunately it went breach. Luckily for the calf and mother though, he was there. Christophe by day is a country doctor, helping person and animal alike. But he is also a healer adept of the Hands, a league of spiritual healers and members of the Protectorate.

  Driving back in his Renault sedan he is thinking of nothing but joining his family. Then he notices the helicopters firing upon his hometown of Libourne. Yes, it is in the distance, but what is going on could never be mistaken. Warfare.

  There are explosions and the distant sounds of heavy machine gun fire.

  Panic sets in, followed by his foot which makes the sedan lurch forward, whining at the demands presented by its driver.

  He sees the explosions as jets from above drop payloads upon his home town.

  Then those jets are engaged by others. He slams the vehicle to a stop and watches the dogfight ensue from above. They wind around each other and intertwine and one jet shoots down another. Other jets streak in and take out the helicopters strafing the town.

  After viewing all of this calamity, he puts the car back in gear and presses down on the gas pedal again.

  Christophe looks on, wondering if his family survived. Wondering if friends survived. Wondering why he wasn’t there to help.

  He cries and still moves ahead; he can’t help but think it looks bad and feels worse.

  Why? Who? He asks himself.

  Chapter 8

  We pack the minivan and I drive us to the site. I wanted Sil to drive, but she was having nothing to do with it. I tossed her the keys and they just flew past her. I know the cataracts are just for show. She just chose not to pluck the keys out of the air like she normally does.

  We make it there without event. Upon arriving we circle the area in typical fashion. It’s an abandoned industrial facility – large metal building, with no signs of security or troops protecting it.

  That only means they’re inside.

  After a perimeter run or two we agree that we don’t see any cameras, so we stop at the side to the entrance and unload. First in would be Sheyliene. She’ll do an aerial reconnaissance and tell of any discoveries. She reaches up to her hair and in her usual fairy dust routine, becomes very tiny and flies off.

  Vets makes like we have to change a tire, just in case. The rest of us just wait.

  After a bit Shey buzzes back in and turns to normal size in the minivan.

  She reports. “Nobody in the yard, but three guys with automatic weapons off the main entry area. I didn’t see anyone else in the main warehouse, but there’s a locked room and I’m sure someone’s in there.”

  I figure that’s where our target is. And chances are he’s armed to the gills – both supernaturally and otherwise. I thank Shey for her help and look over to the team. I share my plan: “We take the front door, use Sil to distract them and then take them down quietly”

  Hag-Sil just looks at me and says, “I’m not changing from this unless you make me.”

  I could compel her to change. I can compel any of my summonlings to do anything I wish. I just don’t like to do that. So instead, I just give her an exasperated look and sigh “well, fine.”

  I give the plan a moment or two to re-gel in my mind. “Alright then, Shey knock on the door, when they open it we take them as quietly and as suddenly as we can. We do not want them warning anyone. If we can avoid fatality, let’s do that… but not at our expense. Okay?”

  The team nods in agreement.

  So we move in. Shey knocks on the door, trying to look as disarming as possible. The door opens and she is greeted by the first thug. First thug gets a finger strike to the throat, followed by Shey barreling into the room using him as cover. The element of surprise is in our favor. The other guards hold fire not wanting to nail their guy.

  That leaves room for Arixtumin, the sorcerer of our group, to step up. He lets loose a black lightning bolt that sends one of the guards flying across the reception space. He trains his attention to the other, but my trusty hound Hjuul has already torn across the room, pounced on him and is tearing his throat out. Gory, yes - but effective as he never got a shout out.

  So much for non-lethal force…

  The rest of us pile into the reception area. Shey is finishing off the guard she had in hand with a choke hold; her arms around his neck and legs locked tightly around his torso. The other guard is lying in a crumpled ball in the corner. The third one is no more than gore upon my hound’s jowls.

  I signal to the team that we need to enter the warehouse area. All are attentive. As a strike team, we are quite cohesive.

  We are making our way to the warehouse, when crumpled guard begins to get up and pull his sidearm. Like a flash Hag-Sil is on him, slapping the weapon from his hand and tripping him
to the ground. She drops on him enveloping his face under her skirt. He is struggling and she is working her hips back and forth. Then, just like that, she goes to a splits, flat on the floor and with a twist of her hips, he stops moving. She puts her feet on his shoulders and forcibly disengages from him.

  Everyone is shocked and wordless.

  I hear Shey gag. Pffif says, “I donnae think that’s a place anyone wans ta be anymore.”

  I am thoroughly disgusted.

  “Nobody heard him scream” she croaks to us.

  Hag-Sil points to her cataract eyes and then to the warehouse. Back on mission, I get it. But damn, that was just gross. I had no idea she could do that. I knew it was a death snatch, just not an eat your face and break your neck one. Eww.

  We make our way through a mostly empty warehouse except for an enormous number of blue barrels. But “mostly empty” is the key. A frog-faced demon appears wielding a long rod. I know that face, it tried to barf an acid ball on me before in South America. It recognizes me too, as it stops and gurgles out – “You!” The frog faced demon turns the rod towards me and lets loose a cry of “Morazza!” A bolt of green lightning streams out toward me.

  I dive out of the way and it crashes into the wall behind me.

  Vets wades in wielding her sword and cleaves the abomination in the neck. The strike doesn’t go all the way through as apparently Mr. Frog is made of fairly stout stuff. Then, like magic, a silver arrow sprouts from his eye socket – Shey. Another strikes in his throat. Vets wretches her sword loose from its neck and strikes with an upward blow under its frog chin, the sword driving upward through its skull.

  The frog faced demon dissolves into ectoplasmic goo. He’s one of Maldgorath’s summonlings. That can only mean Maldgorath is in hire or league with this guy we’ve been sent to stop. It also means I may have another shot at revenge. I call to my sword, Yayne, and it glows white with holy power.

  I hope I get that shot. That bastard had my son killed.

  My summonling group recognizes the issue immediately. I sense it among them; a mix of trepidation and anger. After all, they were all under his thumb for ages before I was “gifted” them.

  We see the office in front of us and fan out accordingly. Pffiferil examines the door and gives a thumbs up that it isn’t booby-trapped. I nod to Vets and she sets in front of the door to kick it in. I give her the signal and in we all go.

  We all flow into the room which is wall to wall with the same blue barrels we’ve seen all about the compound. There is a suitcase on a table and a large TV screen applied to the wall.

  The TV screen turns on and I see the ugly visage of Maldgorath on it. “Time to pray Arthur, you have a minute and a half to live,” he says. “I so wish I could be here, but you aren’t worth my time are you? The suitcase has about twenty pounds of C4 explosive. You won’t be able to escape as all the blue barrels are ammonium nitrate bombs. Nothing will be left standing for over a quarter mile radius. Why don’t’ you…”

  He was saying something, but Vets was doing something else that took my attention. She shoves the blue barrels against the wall to the ground and then pulls her sword slashing the sheet-metal wall behind them.

  “Run that way!” Vets yells pointing to where we came from, while simultaneously scooping up the suitcase and barging through the breach she made in the wall.

  We all stand in shock.

  “Damn!” says Hag-Sil who runs after Vets changing into her more normal demonic/succubus form along the way.

  So we run. I am going as fast as I can. My lungs burn, my muscles pain but I push ahead.

  Then I hear an explosion. I brace myself for the devastation. But I feel none of it. I do feel two of my summonlings returned to me that were killed. That would be Vets and Sil.

  Realizing that I won’t be killed, I stop and walk carefully to the minivan. I see the trail of the explosion up in the sky. Sil must have taken them to wing. My group is with me, that is what is left of my group. I reach to the glyphs for Vets and Sil and summon them back. Vets immediately takes a knee and says, “I am privileged to have died for my wielder,” bowing her head to me.

  Sil returns with the proclamation, “There was nothing good about that at all!” Then she looks around at all of us and says “You’re welcome,” as she transforms back to Hag-Sil. Hag-Sil walks over to the still kneeling Vets and picks her up by the arm. “That was some smart thinking Ms. Vets Vetisghar, I am impressed with you, though you could have let go of the briefcase,” she creaks in her hag-voice.

  We are all a bit stunned and not saying much. But one of us is very animated, Arixtumin. He’s waving his arms about as he’s been compelled not to speak unless spoken to.

  “Yes, please speak,” I address him touching my will.

  He gains his composure and shares his thoughts. “Master Arthur, unless the plant explodes our foe will know we have escaped. If the plant blows, he will assume our death.”

  As much as I want to hate Arixtumin, when he is right, he is right. And again he is. “What are you suggesting?” I ask him.

  “Well, obviously setting off the explosives, but given the briefcase has already been used we must find another way. The most obvious way would be me.”

  “Wow,” says Pffif. “Ye’d blow yerself up?”

  That gets a nod from Arix. “Better that than having the Collector pay us a visit.” By the collector, he means Maldgorath. And yea, I see his point. We all do.

  “You’d set it off?” I ask him.

  He nods a “yes” to me, with a look of disgust.

  “Damn,” Is all I can say. “Ok go on.”

  Arix tells us he’ll wait ten minutes from when he gets to the central room. We pile into the minivan and make tracks. About fifteen minutes later, we see the explosion and I feel Arix return to the white. He did it. I would have never thought he would do that.

  But then, I can’t imagine he wants to confront Maldgorath again either.

  Chapter 9

  I find us an extended stay hotel and I get us a couple of suites. I keep five thousand in cash under the spare wheel well just for times like this. I figure the phone is tapped and we need to lay low a few days just to ensure that we are presumed dead. After that, I’d get in contact with the Protectorate and come in to a safe house somewhere.

  This situation of course makes Sheyliene very happy. To her, my suite is the love nest, and she made sure everyone knows it. I didn’t have much say, then with her – who does? Pffif took much amusement at the whole situation, even asking me quietly at one point if I enjoyed being led around by my manhood. If anyone but Pffif asked me that, I’d have to take offense – but I know he’s joking and just trying to get me to smile about it.

  The news on the TV is disturbing. As best I can tell there was a terrorist attack in Christophe’s home town. Milan was a site for activity too, as was Frankfurt – a suicide bomber attacked the Holy Cross church, which I know to be a locus for the Order of Light. It seems things are getting out of hand – rapidly.

  I can’t help but believe that Maldgorath is firmly at the center of all this. It’s just too convenient. It is beyond just a feeling for me - I know it.

  After two days of watching the world unravel on the news, I decide it’s time to head back home. Folks are going to know I am alive anyway and there is stuff at home I want. And I want to check on the “Hidden Eye” too. It was really starting to take hold.

  So, we pack up in the minivan and head back to New Orleans. But we don’t head straight for home. I’m not that stupid. Instead, I park us in a public lot about four blocks away. I instruct Shey and Pffif to do recon first.

  They take off and I’m left in the van with Arix, Sil and Hjuul in the far back. Vets is in the white, where she prefers to be for travel. Hjuul’s not big on conversation, but I’m still wishing he was up in front with me. Hag-Sil is being sulky, so she’s not talking. And Arix can’t talk unless spoken to because of my compelling upon him.

  I realize it
’s time to let up on him. He did do quite well at the plant. Maybe he’s trying. But then, I remember how he so badly betrayed me. I reach to my will and say “Arixtumin, you may speak freely now. Thanks for thinking clearly at the plant.”

  Arix takes a deep breath. “Thank you master, I exist only to serve you.”

  That I know is bullshit. “Yea right Arix, all the same you did good.”

  That gets a chuckle from my sorcerer, which is unusual. He’s not the chuckling kind.

  Shey and Pffif return and they say the coast is clear. I fire up the minivan and away we go. I find the package with my new phone at the table by the elevator like Alistair promised. We make our way upstairs to the living quarters and I summon Vets back. “Ok everyone, pack your bags, we are going away for a while.” Everyone understands and spreads out to pull their things together.

  I collapse on the living area couch and consider our situation. My contemplations are broken when I hear the elevator kick in and move downstairs. Someone is coming. I get up from the couch and reach into my bag from our outing and pull out my AA-12 assault shotgun. I set it on my lap and make sure the magazine is full.

  Then I yell out to my comrades. “Company incoming!”

  I hear the elevator engage coming back upstairs and stand ready for a fight. I hear it stop, the gate lift and then surprisingly the door bell rings. Rather polite for a home invasion I think.

  I nod to Arix to get the door. He shrugs and walks to the door opening it without worry. He’s probably warded to the gills.

  At the door stands a slight girl, with bottle blonde hair and an overly happy smile. “Hello,” she says taking bead on me. “Lucrezia Calandriello would enjoy the pleasure of your presence this evening to discuss the recent events. May I tell her you will come?”

  I have yet to meet Lucrezia, but I know of her. She is the head vampire for the Louisiana area. She oversees those vampires which hold to the accords with the Protectorate. It looks like I’ll get to meet her sooner than later.