Quest SMASH

by Joseph Lallo

  “Of course. It must be hard when a son leaves home to go adventuring. You must have missed him awfully.”

  Jihan tried not to laugh. Anyone who had spent time in Julia’s company knew that her sugar-coated words concealed an intense dislike. Athlone took them at face value, smiled slightly at Julia, and ushered Jihan away from her to talk.

  “Where are the men I sent?”

  “Dead,” Jihan said.

  Athlone struggled to master his temper. “All six?” he growled.

  “What did you expect me to do, allow myself to be brought back like a runaway dog?”

  “What I expect is some respect, boy!”

  Jihan shrugged, keeping his expression disinterested.

  Athlone’s face darkened. He turned to Julia. “I’ll escort you to the women’s quarter, lady.”

  “Thank you,” Julia said, and took his arm.

  Jihan followed them inside, listening to Julia chatter away as if she hadn’t a care in the world. He prayed that some of her courage might enter his own heart. There was so much about this plan that could go wrong, he could hardly think about anything else.

  After escorting Julia safely to the women’s quarter, Jihan retired to his room, and found it exactly as he’d left it. He took the time to wash and change clothes before putting his armour back on. He sat in a chair watching the door, waiting for his father to make a move. In the past, Athlone had sent some of his cronies to punish him; a beating was his father’s default punishment for any defiance, but he had a feeling that his punishment this time would be epic. Killing Haiger and his men had been essential. He wouldn’t regret the decision now.

  Thwack-thwack!

  The knocking startled him, despite his alertness. The sun had been down for at least a candlemark, but he hadn’t bothered to rise and light the lamps. He crossed the darkened room to answer the door, and found four guardsmen waiting outside. He expected them to attack, but they simply stood there. Their sergeant did the talking.

  “Your lord father sent us. He’s waiting in the armoury.”

  Jihan slipped into his old unresponsive attitude. His father’s choice of the armoury meant that Athlone expected to punish him personally. Had his father deemed words enough of a reprimand, he would have been summoned to his study. He sheathed his sword, and left his room to join his escort. They stepped back warily, and indicated he should walk ahead of them. He smiled coldly. Their fear pleased him, because it meant they were unlikely to risk jumping him on the way.

  “You took your time,” Athlone said, when he entered the armoury. “That was a pretty piece you brought back with you. At least you take after me in your tastes where women are concerned. It’s about the only thing we do have in common. If I didn’t know better, I could almost believe your mother had been whoring to the guards.”

  He clamped down upon his temper, determined not to let his father’s slanderous words provoke him. His mother had been a wonderful person. Nothing the traitor said about her would convince him otherwise.

  “You don’t answer?” Athlone said. “I think it’s time you had another lesson in who rules here.”

  “You were never interested in my opinions before. What has changed? As for the lesson, why not do it yourself?” he said, drawing his sword.

  Athlone stepped back, refusing the challenge.

  He should run his father through right now, and save himself a lot of bother, but Athlone was unarmed. It would be murder. He wouldn’t dishonour himself by staining his sword with the foul traitor’s blood. In formal challenge, yes, and gladly too, but he would not strike an unarmed man. His father’s men however, were armed. They circled him warily, with their swords bare. He knew he would win any fight against them. There wasn’t a doubt of it in his mind, but he didn’t want to kill them. They were Malcorans the same as he. Their families lived in towns and villages that would soon become his to protect. They didn’t deserve to die for his father’s sins.

  “I won’t play your game, father. Call them off,” he said, but Athlone remained silent. He appealed to the men directly. “I don’t want to kill you. Let my father fight his own battles.”

  “You’re a cocky bastard,” the sergeant said. “You ain’t got a chance against all of us.”

  They attacked him together—their first mistake, and he took full advantage of the confusion they caused getting in each others’ way. The sergeant hit the floor, dead before he knew it was time to scream. The others stared at his body in stunned silence. He’d killed their sergeant so fast, that they hadn’t seen him land the blow. The three survivors backed fearfully away from him, and he let them retreat, willing to call the fight won.

  Athlone scowled at his men’s poor showing. “I gave you everything, and you repaid me by running to my greatest enemy. Did you really think that I wouldn’t know who she is? Kill him!”

  Before the guardsmen could even attempt to comply, Jihan was on them. Attacking one, he followed through to kill the man’s nearest companion. Both men fell dead without a sound. The last guardsman was wide-eyed with panic, making Jihan more wary. Pushed too hard, he could be unpredictable. In this case, Jihan was almost taken by surprise, but not through the actions of the panicking guardsman.

  Athlone attacked, using one of the fallen swords. Jihan ducked under the guardsman’s blade at the same time as he threw himself clear of Athlone’s slash. His father was a good fighter, and he couldn’t afford the added distraction. He charged and knocked the guardsman off his feet. One dagger thrust under the man’s chin, and the short fight was over.

  A slow clapping came from across the room, and he turned to find Abarsis standing next to his father, grinning like a loon and applauding. He stared at the sorcerer, shocked by his presence. He’d warned Keverin about his father’s association with the sorcerers, but they’d expected this one to be with the legion in Camorin.

  “You’ve met Abarsis, but I don’t believe you know his two friends,” Athlone said smugly, as the door opened.

  It was a trap, and he’d led Julia right into it.

  * * *

  44 ~ By Stealth

  Julia slipped from her room, and crept silently through the citadel. She’d been careful to note the turns Athlone had taken when he escorted her to the women’s quarter, and now she retraced the route he’d used. She ducked into an alcove when two serving women approached. They were chatting about Jihan coming home, and didn’t notice her hiding amidst the shadows. The corridors were even darker than Athione’s. Unlike Jihan, she wasn’t willing to take it for granted that Athlone didn’t have a pet sorcerer on call, so she used the opportunity to check for anyone using magic. She reached out with the sense that she used when looking for Mathius, but she felt nothing. That reassured her, and with greater confidence, she made her way down to the ground floor.

  Before stepping out of the citadel and into the night, she searched the courtyard with her mage-sight, scanning the darkness for auras. There were none in the courtyard, but she counted an even dozen on the gate towers, and on the short stretch of wall over the gate. She steeled herself to step out into the night, trying to bolster her courage with thoughts of Keverin and Mathius relying upon her. Of all the things she’d faced since arriving in Deva, the dark had to be the least worthy of fear, yet she did fear it; very much, and had ever since she’d lost her parents.

  “I need a spell to fix this,” she muttered under her breath, but even if there was something in her head to fix, she couldn’t heal herself. “A light spell, then. Something.”

  Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to step out of the light and into darkness. She clamped her mouth shut against the whimpers building in her chest. She wasn’t a child, and wouldn’t act like one. Despite her resolution to be brave, she scurried as quickly as she could toward the nearest tower, and the pool of light illuminating its door. She reached her goal without raising the alarm, and basked in the light of the lamp, almost gasping with relief.

&nb
sp; Before leaving, Galen had taught her how to unlock Athione’s gates, and Jihan swore the machinery Malcor used was the same. She needed to get one of the gates open, but she also had to prevent the alarm from being raised. The men on the walls had to be dealt with before she could let Keverin and his men in. The sentries wouldn’t miss those huge multi-tonne gates swinging open, no matter how well greased and quiet the hinges were.

  She pasted a smile on her face for the gatekeeper’s benefit, and entered the tower. It was dimly lit, thank God!—and filled with the machinery needed to open such massive gates. There were cogs and gears like the ones Galen cared for, and she recognised the counterweights with their chains disappearing into the darkness overhead. Those were important. She rounded the counterweight resting upon the floor, and found the wooden stairs that she needed. Barely visible in the darkness overhead, she could just make out the first balcony.

  “Here now! You ain’t allowed in here,” the gatekeeper said, appearing out of the dark.

  She spun toward him, heart pounding. “I only wanted to see how the gates work,” she said, trying for meekness. What she really wanted to do was throttle him for scaring her. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

  “Well…”

  “Please? I’ll get in soooo much trouble!”

  The gatekeeper frowned. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm done.”

  She gave him her best, I’m an airhead, smile. “Thank you soooo much. This all looks very complicated. You must be very clever to make it all work. Would you explain things to me?”

  He stood taller, at the praise. “This shaft here goes…”

  She listened closely, chaffing at the delay, but she needed to manoeuvre him to the control levers. She followed him around his domain, noting that his explanations of how everything worked matched Galen’s teachings. That was good to know, because it meant the plan would work. Now, if he would just get to the unlocking part, she’d be all set.

  “See? Then I pull this one, the stone rises up again, and the gate closes all by itself. Clever eh?”

  She nodded and put her hand on the lever that would unlock counterweight.

  “Don’t!” the gatekeeper yelled, and grabbed her hand.

  As soon as he touched her, she grasped her magic and infused him with exhaustion. He collapsed as if someone had hit him on the head. Someone had in a way. It was a misuse of healing, but it was infinitely better than killing him. He would sleep for hours… candlemarks she should say. Why couldn’t she remember that?

  Quickly moving back to the control levers, she unlocked the gates, but she left the other levers in the closed position, and the gates remained unmoved. She needed to deal with the sentries before she dared open them. She took one more look around, and then climbed the stairs up to the battlements.

  Before opening the door, she listened for footsteps, but she heard nothing. With a firm grasp on her magic, she stepped into the darkness and found the sentries spaced along the wall with her mage-sight. Viewed in the healing realm, they appeared as pillars of blazing energy. Reverting to normal sight for a moment, she could barely make out the first one. The others were lost in the darkness. There were no lamps or torches to give her away, such things would aid an enemy by ruining night vision.

  Muttering under her breath, she forced herself to step into the darkness again, and approach the first guard. He barely had enough time to notice her, before her magic had him slumping against the nearest merlon. She shoved him into a more natural looking position, and left to deal with the other sentries.

  * * *

  Keverin lay hidden in the dark, watching the fortress intently, and hoping for a sign that the plan would succeed. If he hadn’t been so desperate, he would never have sanctioned Julia’s participation, but without her aid and Mathius’ magic, his men had no chance against the numbers opposing them within Malcor. He tried not to leap ahead of himself to consider the threat approaching from the north, but he couldn’t help it.

  Not only did he have to subdue all of Malcor—normally an impossible task—he had to convert his long time enemies into allies. His family’s feud with Malcor was a bitter one. He had never rued it more than he did this night. Athlone’s folly might yet doom them all. Jihan was his one chance, and he thanked the God for the boy’s courage. If he hadn’t fled his father and reported his doings, things would be worse than they already were. He tried to comfort himself with that truth, but it wasn’t working. He grimaced, forcing himself not to consider failure. He strained his eyes trying to see movement upon the walls, but the distance was too great and the darkness too deep. The gate was still closed, he could tell that much.

  “I can’t see a blessed thing,” he growled impatiently. “We should have—” Mathius wasn’t listening to him, he could tell. He had that faraway look in his eyes that Darius used to get. Mathius was using his magic. “Is she well? Tell me!”

  “She’s well. She says to come now, m’lord,” Mathius whispered.

  “But the gates are still shut!” he hissed in frustration.

  “She dare not open them for fear of the noise they might make, but she says they’re unlocked, and the guards are all asleep.”

  “That’ll work,” he said with a relieved grin.

  Mathius laughed quietly under his breath.

  Using hand talk, he ordered his sergeants into action, and ran in a crouch toward the gate. He wished he knew which one Julia had unlocked. With a heave, he felt the right-hand gate move slightly. More of the men arrived to help him shove it open. It was cursed heavy, and took all of them to shift it, but it didn’t make a sound as it swung open. Once through, he turned and gave his orders in a hushed voice.

  “First ten, take the tower on the right and hold it. Next ten, same on the left. Once we’re all inside, lock the gates and keep them shut until you hear from me. I don’t want anyone raising the alarm in town.”

  A figure dashed toward him out of the night, but before he could even think of drawing his sword, he knew who it had to be. A moment later, his supposition was confirmed.

  “I have a dozen men asleep on the south wall,” Julia panted.

  He drank in the sight of her unharmed. Her face was flushed with excitement, and her breasts heaved from her run in the tight corset she wore. She had never looked so beautiful to him.

  “Well done my lady,” he said, forcing his eyes away from her petite form to survey the darkness for enemies. He bared his sword, in case of need, and sent some men to collect the prisoners.

  Jihan had described the fortress well, and it wasn’t long before he had men in its key locations. The barracks were the thorniest problem. There were a dozen huge barracks full of guardsmen. He sent some of his men to protect Mathius while he warded the entrances to each one.

  “Where’s Jihan?”

  “He thought that his father would punish him by setting the men on him. He’s done it before.”

  “On his own son?” he said, disgusted at the notion.

  Julia nodded, glumly.

  He led the way into the citadel, determined to put a stop to that. A liveried servant gasped at the sight of them entering, and turned to run, but Keverin pounced on him before he could get far.

  “Show us to the armoury,” he growled.

  “The... the armoury?” the shocked man said, rolling his eyes up at him.

  “You heard him. Where is Jihan?” Julia said.

  “I couldn’t say, lady,”

  Keverin shook the man until his teeth rattled. “You tell her what she asked, or I’ll introduce you to my sword.”

  “I’ll show you, I’ll show you!”

  Keverin released him. “That’s better. Proceed.”

  The scared man set off, and they followed him deeper into the citadel, hurrying him along with threats, until they came to an iron bound door.

  “Open it and introduce Lady Julia.”

  “But—”

  He raised his sword. �
�Open. It.”

  The servant swallowed fearfully, and led the way into the armoury. “M’lord, the Lady Julia and—”

  * * *

  45 ~ A Question of Loyalty

  Jihan was surprised to see a servant in livery enter the room, and not a sorcerer. Abarsis scowled, and Jihan tensed, expecting a magical attack, but nothing of the sort occurred.

  The servant glanced behind him nervously, and stumbled further into the room as if pushed. “M’lord, the Lady Julia and—”

  “Me,” Keverin said, allowing the servant to bolt. He had his sword bared, ready for mayhem. Julia entered and joined him, keeping her eyes firmly fixed upon Abarsis.

  “There are two more black robes here somewhere,” Jihan said.

  “I’ll worry about them later,” Julia said.

  “Oh really?” Abarsis drawled as his companions entered through another door. “How about now?”

  Julia and Keverin backed toward him, keeping a close eye upon the three black-robed men. Jihan did the same as he edged closer to them.

  “What are you waiting for? Kill them!” Athlone snarled.

  “Don’t ever presume to give me orders,” Abarsis said coldly. “Mine come directly from Mortain. Yours mean less than nothing to me.” He grinned at Julia. “Mortain wants a new girl to warm his bed.”

  Vrooosh!

  Everything happened at once. The sorcerer’s fist-sized fireball sped across the room, roaring in the breeze its passage created, but a ward snapped up to intercept it. Keverin was taken completely by surprise, and was unable to abort his instinctive move to shield Julia. He was left outside of its protection, and was struck.

  “No!” Julia screamed in horror as he crumpled to the floor.

  Abarsis threw another fireball, and Jihan flinched, expecting a fiery death. It hit the still crackling ward, and splashed flame in all directions. A hot wind blew his hair back, and he gasped as the flames sucked at the air, but he wasn’t hurt. Julia stared at Keverin’s body, and didn’t seem to notice how close to obliteration they’d come.