The Earthrin Stones 2 of 3: Trials of Faith

by Douglas Van Dyke

  Sondra’s blue eyes were full of anger. The dark red lips formed a frown. The fingers wrapped around the mace handle flexed slightly, as if trying to get the best feel of the weapon before she used it. Jentan’s eyes roamed over her vestments, noting the symbols of Ganden. He also noted with interest the general shape of Sondra’s body. The mentalist always observed the ample qualities of a woman, but kept his eyes from pausing too long on her chest to deal with the hatred in her expression.

  Mentalists met their foes with a smile and a friendly demeanor. Jentan turned on his charm. “What saddens such a beautiful lady so? What might a humble man do to ease your troubles?”

  The words meant nothing to Sondra. Her lips hissed the one word that summed her emotions for this seemingly harmless man. “Betrayer.”

  “You think I betrayed someone?” Jentan did the best to play innocent. “What crime do you place upon my unknowing shoulders?”

  “I, Sondra Oskires, call you betrayer for turning on your own guild. You took the lives of my teachers. You destroyed the vessel of my god. You crushed my dreams.”

  Jentan felt he had a hook he could use to sink into her mind. Mental control involved knowing what a person wanted to see. If you gave a person’s mind something tantalizing enough, they would forget reality. He added a bit of magic to his voice as he spoke again. He had to distract the woman: one more step and she would be within range to bash him with her mace. The mentalist had a wand tucked on his belt, but he preferred to own minds rather than destroy them.

  “You can dream again, Sondra. Look to your vessel and see the beauty of it. See what dreams the Doranil Star still holds for you.”

  The magical weight added to the words prompted Sondra despite her reluctance to listen to the mentalist. She glanced to the side and had no explanation for the sight that met her eyes.

  The divine chariot soared once again, and over the rail Sondra looked down upon Orlaun. Pennants of Ganden rippled in the breeze as a strong mantra gave energy to the ship. Off to the side, the voice of Jentan Mollamos disguised itself into the mantra as he spoke arcane words to further the mental image. The hook of the illusion sunk deeply into Sondra’s awareness. Her mind dulled to the fighting on the deck, preferring instead to see the ship as she wanted to see it. Sondra wore the robes of the Chosen. Mother Evine stood there, taking her by the hand to the inner sanctum. Sondra knelt on cushions along with the other Chosen. She intoned the mantra with them. She felt her heart soar as her efforts guided the divine chariot through the skies.

  Jentan finally relaxed his voice. He considered the spellbound cleric, as she kneeled on the deck praying the mantra along with the rhythm coming from the vessel. Her mind was lost to an illusion originating from her own wishes, although Jentan had given it a life of its own. There was no way to know how long it would last on its own, or how easily it could be broken, but for now Sondra was no longer a threat.

  Another time and place the mentalist would have spent the time getting to know her on a more personal level. The woman seemed to share a superficial resemblance to another cleric he knew. Jentan briefly considered taking the initiative offered to explore her body’s assets while she was lost in the illusion. He had noted the swell of her chest almost reflexively and considered what a treat the feel of it would be beneath his hands. He lacked the time to seriously undertake such indulgences. Jentan had a mission to accomplish if he even hoped to live out the night. Despite the fact that serenity comforted Sondra like a muffling blanket, the ship was a scene of chaos and hatred.

  * * * * *

  Before the mage guild could punish Jentan they had to get past the defenses of one of his accomplices. Revwar’s magical shields formed a line along the deck; a tactic he learned from a gnome sorcerer four years ago. He could not duplicate the type of crenellated magical field that Mel Bellringer had summoned, but he made his own version from a different type of spell. His robes twirled from shield to shield as he cast from behind the safety of those barriers. Extending a hand through the thin space between shields, he would let loose lancing rays or spew forth fiery blades at the grouped mages.

  Unfortunately, Revwar was matched against the might of the Brotherhood of the Circles. For every spell Revwar loosed, several more launched against him. Fireballs slammed against the magical shields with enough energy to send tendrils of flame singing beyond the gaps. Deadly beams of energy lanced forth, though most of those stopped at the shields or melted holes in the deck beyond. Shards of ice exploded to pepper the surrounding area with sharp splinters. Revwar took on a few wounds as spell after spell battered the area. The elf wizard used his only healing draught to help fix the injuries.

  One conjurer let loose a toxic mist in an attempt to seep around the shields. The spell backfired as he controlled the wind to direct it towards the target. The wind kicked up the flames still on the deck from the rolling barrels. The caster had to dispel his own magic as those mages fighting the fires chided his shortsighted thinking.

  Before long, two threats materialized that promised an end to Revwar’s defenses. The first came in the form of spells meant to counteract other magic. One by one Revwar’s shields were deconstructed and dismissed by spells designed for such use. The elf wizard began to lose his hiding places as more volatile spells continued. The second threat came as other conjurers from the mage guild summoned in beasts to fight. Three creatures resembling a mix of animals took shape and began to charge. Once the unnatural animals arrived, they would easily slip around the gaps in the shields and tear Revwar apart.

  * * * * *

  Kemora chuckled at the effectiveness of her flaming barrels. A strange wind lifted a man clear of the fires. His red, plumed hat stayed on his head despite a breeze that seemed to billow his cape outwards. He whistled as he played a tune upon a mandolin. The song sounded unnatural to halfling ears. The minstrel levitated over the burning deck and the open hold using the power of his music.

  Kemora had hoped the barrels would have stopped him too, but this man was resourceful.

  The halfling brought her sword ready to skewer him as he floated close. His song changed at the last moment to a banshee shriek. The rogue staggered backward a step, clapping hands over ears at the painful noise. Lindon landed safely and lightly on the deck. Mandolin dropped to his side as his wrist flicked at the leather loop around it. The smallsword hilt snapped up into his waiting hand as Kemora recovered from the noise. Swords rang as they met.

  * * * * *

  Volatile spells screamed overhead and to the sides with Trestan and the abomination caught in the middle. The sharp teeth snapping at him seemed even more sinister in the flashes of spell fires. The creature tried to remain just out of reach. It measured his swings and reflexes, searching for the moment it could sweep past his arms in a powerful lunge. Wielding the blade two-handed as he was, Trestan didn’t leave any openings. The narrow elvish blade pivoted around his twisting wrists. Trestan never tried to cock the sword back for a powerful blow. Due to the blade’s light weight and magically keen edge he didn’t have to seek any greater momentum than what the slight efforts of his wrists and forearms could produce.

  Time did not favor Abriana’s champion. The more he delayed the closer Revwar’s party came to escaping. He kept mindful of the qualities of summoned creatures from his teachings at the seminary. The monster would lack the instincts of self-preservation a living being would possess. Eventually, it would risk being sliced horribly by the sword in order to take down its assigned target.

  Several other forms rushed past in a blur. The summoned creatures of the mage guild concentrated on Revwar. Not a single one slowed to assist Trestan in his task. There was no time to feel any relief that the evil wizard would be facing three times the threat Trestan had been dealt.

  Both Trestan and the abomination heard a sharp crack from above. Savannah’s withering spell had finally succeeded in sapping enough strength to topple the giant wooden frames standing above the middle of the ship. The weight of
yardarms, rigging, sails, counterweights and pennants were enough to bring much of the three middle masts of the ship crashing down. Trestan evaded a lunge from the dangerous beast before he could look up to see the danger.

  Abriana’s champion came frighteningly close to being crushed as a split yardarm shattered on the deck before him. Screams came from the direction of the Brotherhood of the Circles as they suffered from falling debris. Fragments rained down on mage and noble alike as Savannah’s dark miracle came to fruition. Pieces of wood and tangles of rope knots dropped randomly around Trestan as he kept clear of the larger beams. The top of one mast speared through one of the summoned creatures bearing down on Revwar. The ape-like abomination screamed as its insides splattered the deck. It soon faded to mist as the magical fabric of the world reclaimed the spell energy.

  Somehow the canine creature facing Trestan avoided the worst of the bombardment. It leapt over the fallen yardarm. Claws raked across one of Trestan’s shoulders as his sword delivered another cut to the underside of the beast. The creature skidded to a stop beyond the aspiring paladin amidst a tangle of shredded rope.

  Trestan thought to deliver an overhand attack when he paused, recalling Cat’s warning about the creature’s ability to disarm using the clawed tail. Bleeding from a few claw marks, it occurred to the young warrior he could use that to his advantage.

  He raised his sword high over his head, leaving his intentions clear. The canine beast immediately took a ready stance. It ducked low with its front paws as the crab appendage on its tail poised to strike. The Sword of the Spirit slashed downward even as the tail snapped forward. The crab claw clamped shut on the blade. The creature underestimated the magical qualities of the weapon. Trestan’s gamble paid off as he felt the keen edge shear through the claw. The severed half of the claw dropped to the side as the blade continued to cut downwards, slicing through the tail and leaving a deep cut across the back.

  The first instinct of the summoned beast caused it to hop backwards instead of pushing the attack. Trestan fluidly spun into the second swing. Anticipating the canine’s movements, the young warrior kept his closeness. The blade came across again, taking the front legs from the creature. The chosen of Abriana didn’t delay ending the creature’s misery, even though it was made of magic. A third swipe proved fatal to the ferocious antagonist.

  Breathing heavily, one hand placing pressure over his new shoulder wound, Trestan glanced across the deck towards his foes. Jentan’s voice floated to his ears as the mentalist cried out in glee, “Boat clear! Let us depart.”

  Resigned to continue the struggle, Trestan turned and jogged behind the remaining pair of summoned beasts. The storm of spells continued to flash past him as the elf wizard and the abbess of the Death Goddess remained stubborn against the onslaught of the mage guild. Scanning the battle, his brown eyes searched in vain for his beloved. Where was Cat?

  CHAPTER 20 “An Eye for an Eye, a Throat for a Throat”

  Savannah gathered in the energies of a miracle as she watched the approaching summoned monsters. The cleric let loose the power of her goddess in the form of a thin, black bolt which streaked across that short space. The energy ripped a creature from its physical manifestation, dispersing it back into the magical essence of the world.

  That left one summoned monster bearing down on Revwar. The elf wizard had nearly expended all his arcane energy. The toll of the spells wore down his mental awareness. He managed to let loose another exploding ice projectile which shredded the final monster. Even as he accomplished that minor victory, the spells of the mage guild took down all but one of his remaining spell shields.

  Jentan yelled and motioned for the rest of his band to make their escape. The mentalist had the levitation boat poised at the edge of the deck and ready to drop away from the dying hulk of the divine chariot. He continued to ignore the woman kneeling nearby. Completely oblivious to her true surroundings, Sondra remained lost in her false illusion. The acolyte chanted along with the weakened mantra still supporting the ship.

  Savannah prepared to meet Trestan’s advance with her dangerous flail, but Revwar waved her back. The elf wizard would not take chances where this human was concerned. Trestan slowed slightly at seeing the elf begin a spell. The young warrior wanted to be ready to evade or deflect any magical attack. Revwar would not leave it as easy as that. Flames danced on the wizard’s fingertips as he prepared to blast the entire area in front of him with an inferno.

  The elf’s voice failed him as the tip of a silver rapier lanced his throat, erupting below his chin. Having been injured by that weapon before, he had no doubts as to the identity of the assailant standing behind him.

  She whispered in his ear, “An eye for an eye, a throat for a throat. Now you will know how it feels to choke on your own blood.”

  Four years previous Revwar had hurled a deadly ray of energy at Cat. The spell severed her windpipe, slowly killing her as she tried in vain to draw breath. If not for Trestan finding his faith and his ability to heal through Abriana, she would have died amongst helpless friends. Thanks to the healing miracle Cat no longer even bore any scars on her neck.

  With a sudden jerk, Katressa Bilil pulled the rapier free of his punctured flesh.

  A gurgling noise escaped Revwar’s throat as the elf wizard brought a hand up to his injury. He staggered a couple steps away from the half-elf, turning with surprise in his yellow eyes. Lips moved as he struggled to utter a spell. His voice failed. Without the ability to speak the arcane syllables of magic, the wizard was no more than a bow without arrows. He appeared vulnerable. She moved to finish Revwar. His robe would resist being punctured by her fine weapon, so she stabbed high. Revwar proved to have one trick up his sleeve…more precisely, the sleeve itself. The length of the elf’s sleeve draped over his free hand. As Cat lunged, he grabbed the blade. His hand caught the rapier from under the protection of the silky, magical robe.

  Cat struggled, trying to slash her weapon free of his grip. Revwar’s other hand, bloody from holding his wound, reached out for her. The wizard lacked the ability to cast spells, but he still had the enchantment which lent him unnatural strength. Those yellow eyes bulged from the lack of air, yet they reflected the evil in his heart. Revwar grabbed her black leather tunic in one hand and pulled her closer. Boots skidded on rotted wood as she tried to twist from his iron grip. His left hand released the blade, only to grab her belt.

  Cat lost the grip on her rapier as the wizard shook her like a rag doll. His throat made awful wheezing noises during the effort. She could not match his magical strength. Panic was in her own eyes as she tried to think of an escape from his firm grasp. She wanted to reach one of her daggers but her body shook too violently to tell up from down.

  Trestan advanced up the deck, as fast as he could hurry. Savannah had ignored him to come to Revwar’s aid. The cleric had difficulty trying to heal the wizard due to the frantic movements.

  Revwar, pale by the light of the fires, reached the end of his strength. The wizard angrily raised Cat’s body over his head. She weakly slapped at him as the world spun around her vision. They were close to the side rail which bordered the long fall to the clouds below. Trestan shouted protest as he saw the intent. Calling upon his magical endowment, Revwar heaved Cat through the air towards the outer edge of the deck. The effort caused Revwar to collapse. Cat’s body desperately flailed for any kind of handhold as momentum carried her towards the boundary between ship and sky.

  Trestan winced as his love collided with the side rail. To his horror, the rotted railing splintered as the half-elf’s lithe body smacked against it. Part of the railing fell over the edge, while the rest leaned away from the deck under the weight. Deck boards cracked and bent. Cat sprawled out against the wreckage in a daze. Trestan heard the groan of pain in her voice as her weight sagged against the weakened wood. Planks and supports groaned as their strength faltered.

  One of her legs already dangled in the open sky. She moved yet seemed unaware of
the danger of her predicament. Broken railing and warped floorboards supporting her weight were ready to snap off at any second. Cat’s movement only seemed to draw her closer to the precipice. Revwar may not have been able to put her over the edge, but her life still hung dangerously close to completing what he started. Trestan did not have time to worry about the other band. He turned his sprint towards his beloved. He prayed to Abriana he could get to her side in time, even as he heard the cracking wood beneath her hips.

  * * * * *

  Kemora heard Jentan’s frantic call to gather at the lifeboat. Two worries preoccupied the halfling. One included the relics in the hold with the red-haired chiaso. The other concern, foremost on her mind, was the fancy human minstrel threatening her with his smallsword.

  The human displayed skill with the weapon. His feet moved gracefully. He made every thrust measured and nearly effortless. Kemora could not cross the gap and get within her short reach.

  A fight with this man would be a prolonged waste of time she could not spare. Kemora kept up a defense with her sword while her other hand reached inside a pouch for another weapon. The halfling spun away from the minstrel’s reach. As she did so, she set the bolo into a spinning motion around her body. Lindon pursued slowly, expecting a trap. It gave the halfling a little space to work as she flung the bolo back at him.

  The halfling weapon was true to its design. The weighted balls at the ends of the string entangled Lindon’s legs. The minstrel could not keep balance with his legs wrapped up in the bolo cord. He stumbled until falling forward. Lindon feared the halfling would have him now, but she sought escape. Kemora turned to run to the safety that the lifeboat offered. Her short legs retreated away from him.