by Pedro Urvi
They found Gerart with Kendas, fighting desperately against a mass of enemies who had made their way through.
Aliana raised her voice. There was so much noise that she could barely make herself heard. “What’s happening, Gerart?”
The young King saw Aliana, and his face turned grim.
“You shouldn’t be here. Go back to Haradin!”
“Haradin doesn’t need me right now. You do!”
“Heed your King, go back to Haradin!”
“I heed Gerart, not the King, and my decision is to stay.”
“Aliana…”
“I’m staying. Kendas has sounded the horn, what magic do you fear?” Aliana left it very clear that she had no intention of leaving.
Gerart glanced at her for a moment longer, then shook his head and pointed ahead, on the left of the barrier formed by his men.
He pointed to Kendas’ side. “There,” he said.
By the half-destroyed wall was a round black well which seemed to have a life of its own. It shed a dark haze of death, which extended above the ground. Rogdonian and enemy soldiers alike fell when they were touched by the darkness of death advancing towards them, never to return. The ground devoured them as if a goddess of the abyss were dragging them to her lair in order to eat them. The men moved back in terror, breaking ranks, weakening the barrier they were using to contain the enemy.
“We must stop that spell or it will kill all our defense,” said Gerart. “It keeps expanding. If the defense falls, everything will be lost.”
“Be careful!” Kendas warned them as he blocked the passage of a group of enemy soldiers who had made their way to the center of the weakened barrier. At once Gerart went to help him. Several Rogdonian soldiers joined them hastily.
Asti stood by Aliana. Staring at the spell which was making its way on, corrupting the ground and devouring men as it went, she asked:
“What do?”
“We’re going to stop this evil spell,” Aliana said with conviction.
“How?”
“With Earth,” Aliana said. Her voice was determined.
She held the medallion in one hand and concentrated, seeking to communicate with her Ilenian Medallion of Earth, conveying to it what she wanted to do with her mind. She felt the medallion interacting with her energy, using it to conjure, and the mysterious Ilenian runes filled her thoughts. The medallion flashed with the intense brown of damp earth. Aliana opened her eyes and watched the ground around the well of death beginning to shake.
Asti was still puzzled. “Earthquake?” she asked.
“Not exactly…” Aliana said with a half-smile.
The ground around the blackened surface of the enemy spell came alive, and the rock around the ditch of death began to press towards the center of the darkness.
“I’m going to close it,” she said firmly, and gripped the medallion hard.
The spell of death tried to go on expanding, but the strength of the spell of earth was greater.
“Come on…” Aliana said, pushing with her mind and feeding the magic of the medallion with her whole being. She was holding the jewel in her hand with such intensity that it hurt horribly. But she knew she could do it, she had to keep up her concentration and push, push with her own energy and will so that the spell would work.
Gradually, amid massive tremors and thunderous cracking, the rock moved, crushing the blackness, as if Mother Earth were tightening her fist over an evil being and crushing it until it disappeared. The tremors ceased. Where before had been the well was now solid ground.
“You do it!” cried Asti.
Aliana eyed her work with satisfaction, but the pain in her hand forced her to let go of the medallion. During the spell she had been in something like a trance, and had not even noticed that her hand was bleeding. That was an intense experience, she thought. With the enemy spell neutralized, the defensive barrier would hold. She could not help smiling in satisfaction as she used her Gift to cure her hand.
Kendas became aware of Aliana’s success. He gestured at the patch of reddish soil.
“Is it safe?” he asked,
Aliana nodded. “Yes, it’s solid. The enemy spell is dead.”
“Your Highness, we must close the gap,” Kendas said to Gerart, as the King skewered an enemy with his sword.
Gerart saw it. “Men, to me! Close the gap! Close ranks!” he ordered his men, who immediately re-formed the barrier and closed the entire length of the ruined wall.
Kendas ran to help them.
Gerart turned to his men. “Rogdonians, hold fast! Don’t let them pass!”
The men pressed with all their strength, shoulder to shoulder, keeping in line, closing the gap along its entire length. But a group of a hundred or so enemy soldiers managed to cross before they could use the bodies of the dead to block their way. Chaos broke out. The rearmost lines of Rogdonian soldiers lunged at the men in black, and the clamor of the fight thundered in Aliana’s ears.
Gerart, who was the furthest back, killed an enemy with a powerful stroke and shouted: “Rearguard, finish them! The rest, hold your ranks! Don’t let them in!”
At that same moment shadows to her left made Aliana turn. Six Tiger Warriors appeared between two ruined buildings, crossing the square with long strides at astonishing speed. Her heart gave a lurch. She tried to react and shout, but it was too late, the enemy were already upon them. Beside her Asti too turned and saw the threat.
Aliana searched for her medallion. She tried to concentrate and use it. In response, the Ilenian jewel enveloped her in a protective sphere. Imitating Aliana’s, Asti’s surrounded her with a sphere of translucent, solidified magma. Damn! I need you to attack! To stop them! But unfortunately Aliana was not mistress of the medallion yet and could not make it follow her will, much less in a moment of confusion and fear. One Tiger Warrior reached her and hit the sphere with a large club and the full force of his muscular body. Aliana felt the impact on the sphere run through her, but the protective sphere held. The warrior struck again, and this time a piece of earth cracked and fell off the sphere. Aliana felt the blow in her own flesh, muffled but still painful. If he goes on hitting it, he’ll break the protection. I must do something! Another warrior reached Asti and hit her sphere, trying to reach her head. But the Usik’s protection rejected the blast, although fragments of solid magma fell to the ground. The expression on Asti’s face was one of pure horror.
The leading Tiger Warrior went straight for Gerart, who had his back to him and did not see him coming. Aliana was about to cry out, but the Tiger Warrior on top of her hit the sphere with a brutal two-handed blow, and she felt her whole body shake with pain. She lost her footing and nearly fell to the ground.
The foremost Tiger reached the King like a breath of wind and hit him in the back of his neck with a heavy club, a dull powerful blow. Gerart fell like a log without even realizing what had hit him.
Taken by surprise, Aliana grasped her medallion. She looked at the Tiger who was about to strike again and ordered: Stop him where he is! Don’t let him hit me again! Petrify him! And this time the medallion understood the wishes of its Bearer. There was a brown flash, and a beam shot out of the jewel. It hit the Tiger full in the chest. The beam of brown light spread throughout the warrior’s body. Eyes staring wide, arms raised above his head holding the club ready to strike, he saw that he could not deliver the blow. In a few instants what had been flesh had turned to stone.
The Tiger looming above Asti saw what was happening and took a hesitant step back. She took advantage of the fact and reacted. “Tigers!” she shouted towards where Kendas and the soldiers were fighting. But the noise of the fray drowned her voice. “Kendas! Tigers!” she shouted again with all the force of her lungs.
Kendas heard her at last and turned just in time to see the Tigers carrying Gerart away.
“The King!” he cried, “The King!”
The Tiger Warriors carried him away at a dizzying speed and vanished among the ruined
buildings behind them.
Heads on a platter
Iruki was woken by Kayti’s enraged shouts. At first she had no idea where she was or what was going on. Her head hurt so hard she could not think.
“Get your filthy hands off me!” she heard Kayti shout furiously.
Iruki glanced around and saw she was on the ground, surrounded by trees. This seemed strange to her. The last thing she remembered was the fighting… and the two Assassins! She turned round on the ground and saw them. They were tying Kayti’s hands, and she was struggling hard. Iruki tried to get to her feet and go to her aid, but she fell to one side and hit the ground. Her hands were tied behind her.
“Leave her alone!” Iruki cried. She searched for her short sword, saw it leaning against a tree and began to drag herself towards it. One of the Assassins took an inhuman leap with a cartwheel in midair and with amazing agility got in between Iruki and her sword.
“But… how did he do that?” Kayti gasped. “What are they?”
Iruki knew perfectly well what they were. She had known the moment she had set eyes on them. They were unmistakable: that inhuman agility, those unbelievable reflexes, the lethal aura around them… they were Dark Assassins, just like her beloved Yakumo.
“They’re Assassins. They have unbelievable, lethal abilities,” she warned Kayti.
They exchanged glances, and Kayti nodded. They had taken her helmet off, and her long red hair caught something of the intensity of the moment. The sound of battle reached Iruki’s ears, muffled by distance but clearly recognizable. They must be quite near, probably in the woods to the east of the wall, but not too far. The spirit of the wind carried the sound of fighting to the forests, to her, bearing hope. If they managed to escape they could return to their own people. But then her eyes turned to the Dark Assassin looming over her, and all hope evaporated from her soul.
“The White Soul… at last …” came a voice behind Iruki. “Master Isuzeni will be delighted today.”
Not understanding what he meant, the Masig turned and found herself face to face with the powerful Sorcerer. He carried the ominous skull with its ruby eyes under his arm and was pointing his ceremonial axe at Kayti. Iruki looked away and closed her eyes. She could not reach her sword, but there might be some other weapon she could use. She concentrated on trying to cast a spell with the Medallion of Water. With her hands tied and still rather dizzy, she was not sure she could manage it. But she tried anyway.
“Now then, what do you think you are doing?” came the Sorcerer’s outraged voice.
Suddenly Iruki felt an explosion of pain in her mind. Everything went dark.
“Do you really think you are going to conjure in my presence, you clumsy wildling from the steppes?”
Iruki shook her head, but was unable to free herself from the terrible pain, which kept getting worse. She could barely think. There was only pain in her mind.
“It takes years of practice to master the art of conjuring, many more to do it in silence without being detected, and you do not even know the basics of that arcane art.”
“Swine…” was all Iruki could murmur. She opened her eyes dizzily and looked for Kayti beside her.
The redhead was staring at the Sorcerer, whose face was hidden under a grisly purple mask. Her eyes burned with the intensity of volcanic flames.
“Vile servant of a gutless, treacherous master!”
“That is hardly the way to address the High Priest of the Cult of Imork,” said another voice from the path through the trees.
Iruki turned her head round and watched the foreigner arrive, surrounded by soldiers in black with monstrous masks. Immediately she felt her heart sink, such was the power given off by the dark spirit of that man with slanted eyes. Mother Nature herself seemed to repudiate him, since with every step he took everything at his feet wilted and died. Iruki felt she was facing the personification of an evil spirit from the world beyond.
Kayti spat at the newcomer’s feet. “You can rot in hell!” she shouted,
“What a disappointment, such vulgar manners… Allow me to introduce myself. I am Isuzeni, High Priest and Counselor to Empress Yuzumi. And if I have been correctly informed, you are the slippery White Soul… I have been on your trail for a long, long time… Where have you been hiding?”
“I’m not going to say anything, you swine!”
The Sorcerer pointed his silver axe at her. “Shut up, bitch, and show the respect you owe me!”
Isuzeni gave her an ironic smile.
“You have upset Narmos, my good acolyte, and that is not good, young lady… you should control that tongue of yours…” He waved his hand. The Dark Assassin beside Kayti grabbed her, ruthlessly thrust her down and held her face against the ground.
Isuzeni stared at her back.
“Leave her alone!” Iruki shouted. Her head exploded in pain and she almost fainted.
“Shut up, you dirty savage!” Narmos said.
Isuzeni continued his examination of the armor, then suddenly straightened up.
“Aha, the rune of the Soul, on the white armor!” he cried in triumph. “At last! After all this time! In my hands at last! The premonition will not come true!”
“So it really is her, Master?” Narmos asked.
“Yes, Narmos, it is her. You have served me well, you shall be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.”
Narmos bowed before his master and took a step back.
The eyes of the powerful High Priest turned to Iruki.
“I can feel the great power of that medallion around your neck, savage Masig. My lady was right, a great power… very ancient… a power which the Dark Lady wishes to obtain… It will lead her to Glory… and of course her humble servant as well.”
Iruki stared back at Isuzeni, the guards of honor behind him, the two Assassins beside her and Kayti, and Narmos the Sorcerer a couple of paces away. There was no salvation possible. Fear began to weave its web over her soul.
Isuzeni was in high spirits. “A grand day is today!” he cried. “I must communicate the crucial news to the Dark Lady at once. It is time to exterminate the enemy, we have nothing to fear now! Victory is ours! Nothing can stop us now!”
“We’ll see about that!” Iruki said, rising above her pain for a brief moment and drawing on her courage.
Isuzeni eyed her for a moment, then at her medallion. He stepped forward and seized it. But when his gloved fingers closed on the Medallion of Water the jewel flashed intensely, blinding all those present. Isuzeni cried out in pain and immediately released the Ilenian jewel.
He clutched his hand, with agony twisting his face. “It burns…” he murmured under his breath.
“Only the chosen Bearer can hold it,” Iruki said defiantly. There was the trace of a smile on her face.
“We shall see about that,” Isuzeni said. “All magic may be mastered by one who is superior.”
“You won’t be able to, Sorcerer,” Iruki assured him.
“We shall see…” Isuzeni said, lost in thought. “But this is neither the time nor the place for it.”
He turned and started walking down the path. As he passed by his guards he said:
“Cut their heads off and present them on a platter to the Dark Lady. That is her wish. Once the head is severed from the savage’s body, pick up the medallion without touching it and give it to the Empress.”
The Moyuki nodded.
Iruki felt her blood freeze.
I kill
Kendas, Aliana, Asti and thirty or so soldiers were running among the ruined houses of the old goldsmiths’ quarter. They were pursuing the Tiger Warriors who had kidnapped Gerart, moving away from the battlefield towards the north-west. Kendas was breathless with anxiety. He was tormented by the fear of losing the King, the last hope for the Rogdonians, imagining what those warriors might do to Gerart.
“Where are they going?” Aliana asked, behind him. She was panting from the effort of running.
“They must be heading for th
e wall, the point where they came through without being seen,” said Kendas without stopping.
“We must catch up with them before they get there and we lose them,” Aliana said.
Kendas glanced at the Healer, then at the frail Usik and the retinue of soldiers who had come with them.
“Aliana,” he said with concern in his voice, “you and Asti must go back, you can’t risk yourselves this way. You’re too valuable. We can’t afford to lose you. Go back to Haradin.”
“No, Kendas, the King is in danger of dying. How can I go back? Never.”
“It’s folly, Aliana, we’re on our way to confront those tiger warriors. You must go back. I’ll bring him back; it’s my duty, not yours.”
“I won’t abandon the King in this moment of need. Danger doesn’t matter, what matters is that he mustn’t die.”
Kendas knew by the intense gleam in her eyes that nothing would make her change her mind. He would have given anything for the Healer to heed him and turn back. But what she had said was true: without the King they were lost. Asti at least had to go back; she was too fragile to be there at the battlefront taking that kind of risk. He gave her a pleading look.
“I go…” the Usik said, determination written all over her face.
“It’s too dangerous,” Kendas insisted. He was aware that if anything should happen to the delicate Usik girl, his heart would break. He would never forgive himself. His gaze was insistent, but Asti was adamant. She shook her head,
“You go, I go,” she replied, closing the subject.
Kendas felt a pang of warning in his chest. Something terrible would happen, but there was nothing he could do about it. They had to keep moving. They turned between several demolished houses and suddenly found themselves in a square with a fountain in the middle. The fountain was miraculously intact. Half a dozen Tiger Warriors were waiting for them. Behind them a Sorcerer masked in purple was carrying a short axe in one hand and a skull in the other. At his feet, his hands tied: Gerart. A huge Tiger Warrior, surely their leader, was holding the King’s head and pulling it up by the hair. He looked like a broken puppet, with his face covered in blood and bruised from the beating he had been given.
