The Red Citadel and the Sorcerer's Power

by Craig Halloran

  Moth chased the assassins across the rooftops. The agile killers sprang away from the giant man’s massive swings. The assassins were clever, one darting in to attack Moth in the front while the other thrust deep into the savage’s rippling back. Back and forth they went, striking at Moth like vipers in a pit. The unfettered savage came at them again and again. He unleashed terrific swings that knocked the swords out of his attackers’ hands. One assassin drew a dagger from his belt and ran. Like a great cat chasing a mouse, Moth tracked the man’s zigzag patterns. Cornering the assassin, he hewed the man down like a cornstalk in a field.

  “It was inevitable,” Finster said, spitting out saliva as he chuckled.

  Moth chased the last assassin.

  Finster caught a glimpse of another player in the field. Somehow, as he bordered between life and death, he saw in a different spectrum. He had heard that, in the dying moments of life, men saw the unseen world that held all life together. Now he had a glimpse for himself. Like a ghostly apparition, Alexandria closed in on Moth.

  “You fool. It’s a trap,” Finster said, but his voice was barely a whisper. On hands and knees, he crawled onward, dragging his tattered robes over the rugged stones. He stopped, lifted an arm, and stretched out a hand. He concentrated on lifting the stones out from underneath Alexandria’s feet. The entire length of his arm shook like a leaf. A stone shifted a few feet in front of him. He collapsed in a heap. It was all he could do to keep his head up and watch Alexandria close in for the kill. “No.”

  Springing side to side, Moth shrank the distance between himself and the last male assassin. The assassin raised his blade to parry. Moth brought down his broadsword with wroth force. The assassin’s blade snapped. Moth’s blade cut the man deep in the shoulder. Up and down his blade went, turning the assassin into meat on a butcher block.

  Alexandria slipped in behind Moth and jammed two long poisoned needles into his back.

  Moth spun around, unleashing a decapitating blow.

  She ducked under the swing and backed away. She reappeared, backed away quickly, and took the hood from her head. “You will not survive the poison, blue-toe. None have. None will.”

  On wooden limbs, Moth gave chase. He swung his sword sluggishly.

  Alexandria walked away from the lumbering man with the silkiness of an alley cat. There was victory in her steely eyes as she gave Finster a lasting look. She walked right at him with her shoulders back and chin raised high. She stood over him and said, “Now I am going to watch you both die.”

  Moth staggered toward her. His bare feet tripped over the stones. He collapsed hard on the ground with his sword falling free of his fingers. He lay flat on his chest, facing Finster.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Finster asked his unlikely comrade. Moth convulsed. Finster was confident that the ring of regeneration would heal flesh, but poison was another matter. As for the other offensive powers of the rings, well, they were useless unless Moth knew how to wield them. “Bloody bones, I just want the pain to end.” He peeked up at Alexandria. “The woman. The girl. Will you spare them?”

  “I wasn’t hired to kill them, but no, I won’t spare them. They are loose ends,” she said.

  “You really know how to kick a man when he’s down. It makes me angry.” Finster looked at Moth. He could see the rings burgeoning underneath the thinning skin on the brute’s fingers. He reached out to touch the savage’s hand. “So close” was the last thing he said. The world became black. The sound of rushing water filled his ears, and there was nothing after that but Alexandria’s fading laugh.

  CHAPTER 95

  “No! No!” Dizon screamed as she raced toward Finster.

  Alexandria let the woman pass her by. She still had two poison needles left. They would be more than enough to kill the woman and child.

  Dizon cradled Finster in her arms. She rocked back and forth with him. Tears ran down her cheeks. Sobbing, she asked Alexandria, “Why? Why? Why?”

  “It’s my job. Nothing personal,” she replied.

  Rinny kneeled over Moth. Her small fists pounded on his back. “Wake up, Moth! Wake up! Wake up and kill that witch!”

  “Don’t fret, little child. You will be joining them soon enough.” Alexandria pulled the last two needles from her sleeve. “Now hold still. This will only hurt a bit.”

  Moth pushed himself up.

  Alexandria’s eyes bulged. She froze in her spot. “Impossible.”

  Moth put his hand with the regenerating ring over Finster’s open hand. A great wind blasted forth out of their bodies. Alexandria sailed backward, not stopping until she hit the battlements, and crumpled to the ground. She opened her eyes, shook her head, and gasped.

  Finster and Moth were both alive and well, both rising to their knees. A sphere of radiant emerald lines encircled them with the speed of humming birds. The woman and girl had crawled away, shielding their eyes. A mighty wind continued to tear at their hair and clothing, whistling like a howling banshee. Awestruck, Alexandria watched the bodies of Finster and Moth merge into one form. “No, this cannot be. I killed them,” she said with an angry, trembling voice. “I killed them both!”

  The swirling winds faded. The mystic light went dim. A towering man in tattered robes stood on the roof where the pair of scoundrels had once stood. Strapping and striking, standing like a demigod before his subjects, he had an emerald twinkle in his eyes. The seven rings that adorned his fingers shone with power. A knowing smile grew on his face. He tossed back his head and laughed.

  Alexandria fled.

  CHAPTER 96

  Finster looked at his spread-out fingers. The rings of power shone brightly on his oversized digits. All of the precious metals and stones sparkled with a luster of their own. “I feel magnificent. All-powerful.” He rolled his shoulders backward. “The pain. The pain is gone.”

  Dizon approached timidly, shrinking underneath his stare. “I hear you, Finster, but you are not you. You are both of you.”

  “I am he, and he is I,” Finster said, looking at the strapping muscles that covered his arms. “I don’t think that it is something either one of us wants to get used to. The savage wrestles within me like a caged animal. Or perhaps I wrestle with him, but at the moment, I feel delightful.”

  Looking up at the men that had become one, Rinny asked, “Moth, is that you?”

  Finster patted her head. “I didn’t do that. He did. Drat it.” He let out a sigh. “Moth, you are making me look bad.”

  Taking Finster’s arm, Dizon said, “Are you giddy?”

  “Giddy with power, I’d say,” he replied.

  She squeezed his hand. “I am overjoyed, but how did this happen?”

  “There are many mysteries that even I cannot answer. But this I know. The Founder’s Stone had an intelligence all its own,” Finster replied. “As I lay on the threshold of death and felt the hounds of hell nipping at my feet while the angels of heaven awaited, the savage’s touch connected the rings to the stone. The Founder’s Stone, hah, amplified their existing powers, and the poison that ran through our veins disintegrated. Hungry for more, the Founder’s Stone brought one into another.” He clenched his fist. “I feel elation, yet the Founder’s Stone still hungers. It is a dangerous thing.”

  Tugging on his hand, Rinny said, “I want Moth back.”

  “Yes, well, believe me when I say, little gnat, that there is nothing more that the savage wants than to run the wilds again.” Finster could see and feel every primitive thought Moth had. Memories were crossed and mixed. Moth had had a childhood, parents, splendid lands rich for the hunt. Moth was young. He’d seen countless horrors. They had been in the air he had breathed since birth. Like a hungry animal, a deep restless strength burned within the barbaric youth. His will was iron, tested by trials of fire. The Goth tribes battled over territory. Armies from the kingdoms chased and slew. Moth was a young man, separated, lost, enslaved. Within, there was no fear, only the calculating, cunning, wild-bred survivor. Little else did Moth
show. He was fueled by the fight and the battle for survival. There was no quit inside him. He was stone cold and savage. Yet for his own stubborn reasons, he remained, because Finster had freed him and enslaved him at the same time.

  “Interesting. Our savage friend is more than I’d come to expect. A crude honor is with him. Like a hound, he is loyal. It’s the best loyalty there is.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure if I’ll be stuck with him or not. But first things first.”

  “What about the assassin? She needs to be finished, Finster,” Dizon said. “We must go after her.”

  Finster cupped her face in his hand. “There is nothing you need to worry about anymore. She is running with her tail tucked between her legs. We’ll catch up with her and the king in Mendes.”

  The handful of knights who had remained below with Dizon stood nearby, aiding their commander, Osgald.

  “Get me on my feet,” Osgald commanded. His knights lifted him to a standing position. His once-handsome face had red, swelling burns and blister marks all over. His beard was singed. He lifted a sword at Finster. “You are an enemy of the crown.”

  Finster faced Osgald. “And the crown is becoming an enemy of the kingdoms. Which one will you defend?”

  “I’ve seen all of the madness that I care to see, er…” He tilted his head and stared at Finster. “Finster, I presume, if you swear that you are pledged to restore order, I pledge my sword to you and the Red Citadel.”

  “What about King Rolem’s and King-Elect Mather’s plans?”

  “I’ll make a statement to their conspiracy. It is on the record of many, including myself.”

  Dizon marched over to Osgald and slapped him. “You should be ashamed.”

  “I’ll probably sway from the gallows for it,” the shamed knight replied.

  “True,” Finster said. “Your words will hold little merit, I fear. But you and your men might have a future as citadel guardians.” Finster used his powers of animation to strip metal from the fallen knights’ armor. In a matter of seconds, like a master sculptor, he turned the metal from breastplates and chainmail into the shiny steel masks of citadel guardians, with rectangular slits and a dress of chainmail covering the back. He put them in the hands of the knights. “Try those on.”

  All five knights’ new masks fit them perfectly. Each of them kneeled. “We pledge our swords to the Red Citadel,” they chorused.

  “Good,” Finster said. The Black Tower lifted from the ground. “Now the time has come to bring order to our mad world.”

  CHAPTER 97

  The kingdom of Mendes, rich in architecture, ran along the coastline of the Gallatan Sea. Much like the kingdom of Rayland, the castle, from a few miles’ distance, overlooked the sea, just as the castle of Rayland overlooked the Free River. A multitude of galleons and brigantine ships filled the bay along with countless fishing boats. Along the coast were docks and boardwalks. Now, in an event that many would have thought was the Great Festival of the Sea, multitudes of people had gathered along the shoreline.

  With the setting sun hanging above the clouds, the shine that normally whitened the alabaster blocks of the castle was blotted out in an eclipse of gray. On the fanciful patios of the castle stood the highest-ranking officials in all of Mendes, including King Rolem himself, the high guard that formed a protective wall around him, and a full host of mages from the Violet Citadel. Alexandria was among them, staring at the Black Tower that she’d departed from three days ago. Now it hung in the sky like a moon. The tower had taken its time, but it had caught up with her.

  Everyone present on the king’s porches and patios stood in silence, staring at the great Black Tower that waited one hundred feet above the waves of the sea. Strands of lightning had erupted from the flying tower’s battlements the moment it arrived. Many of the citizens of Mendes murmured and panicked. They clawed at the castle’s gates. Thousands packed up and fled. But for the most part, the people craned their necks back as they crowded along the dock to stare at the tower.

  Rolem plucked at his trimmed beard as he sat on his wooden throne. His foot tapped on the pedestal. “What is he waiting for? Hmmm? It’s been hours and no word. No emissary. No sign of anyone or anything. How do you know that Finster guides this”—he rolled his hand and pointed skyward—“thing? Answer me, Alexandria. Is this a hoax?”

  “It’s not a hoax,” she said. “He is in there, waiting for your surrender. Believe me.”

  The tower began to slowly spin in midair. Purple and red and white-hot lightning erupted from the top like lava from a volcano. Some citizens cheered, while others screamed. The faces of the mages from the Violet Citadel turned ashen. They grumbled among themselves.

  “What are you chattering about? Tell me!” King Rolem slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “Tell me!”

  A man in his sixties with pasty skin and a vulturelike quality about him approached the king. He was Lucen, the Magus Supremeus of the Violet Citadel. He bowed to the king. “King Rolem, we are quite willing to take the offensive on your behalf. Clearly, this tower poses a threat. We would like to deal with it.”

  “Yes, you did so well keeping this matter under control before.” Rolem rolled his eyes. “I hire the finest mages and assassins, and now I have this monstrosity on my very beach!” Eyes fixed on the tower, he sat up. “What is that? What is that? High guard, surround me.”

  The knights surrounded him. The other dignitaries moved backward.

  A slab of gray stone floated from the Black Tower right toward the king’s patio. It made a soft landing on the patio wall. It was more than ten feet tall and half as wide. Words that had been burned into the stone still glowed.

  Alexandria and Lucen were the first to approach it. “It’s a message,” Alexandria said. Her eyes scanned the oversized writing. “From Finster.”

  “Get out of my way,” Rolem said, pushing through his knights. He stepped up between the assassin and the wizard.

  The slab on the patio read:

  King Rolem,

  Good evening. Confess to your conspiracy against the Seven Kingdoms. Confess to the murder of King Alrick. I have the witnesses. I have the proof. You are scum. You exercise poor taste in women. You are the sour grape of the vineyard. The spawn of rats. A lowly, undeserving king. Also, Alexandria, I know you are there. I see all. You, regardless, will be dead soon. King Rolem, once again, I state, surrender the crown with honor, or prepare to die.

  Sincerely,

  Finster the Grand

  Aghast, King Rolem asked, “Is this a joke? Is this a jest? Take this abomination off my castle. High guard, rid my eyes of this lying monstrosity!” He stomped the ground. “Immediately!”

  The high guard knights moved across the patio to the slab. They tried to push it over the ledge. It would not move.

  “Fetch a hammer,” one of the high guards said. “We shall smash it to pieces.”

  As the high guard knights railed against the slab, more slabs descended from the tower to the beaches and the streets.

  King Rolem kicked the patio wall. His handsome face turned red as a beet. “Of all the insolent behavior! To mock me! The king! Lucen!” He pointed at the tower. “Execute that lunatic sorcerer!”

  CHAPTER 98

  On the rooftop of the tower, Finster marked up another huge slab of stone with a glowing finger that carved out and seared its surface. He’d been at it since they’d moved out of the Fringe, writing in detail all that had happened in regards to King Rolem’s conspiracy. Casually writing with a deft hand, he said, “How many is that so far, Dizon, twenty?”

  “Twenty-one,” she replied. She and Rinny were standing at his side, examining his work. “But I don’t think these words will do any good. Men like King Rolem only respond to force.”

  Finster finished writing. Admiring his handiwork, he said, “Twenty-one should do it. It’s a number of good fortune.” With a wave of his hand, he sent the slab up into the air on a course to the streets of Mendes, where the citizens waited. “I d
on’t disagree with you at all, my love, but as a sworn peacekeeper of the kingdoms, I am obligated to inform the people of the truth so that they can understand what is about to happen and why.” He approached the tower wall and looked out over the battlements. He was joined by Dizon, Rinny, and the new Citadel Guardians. “They need a warning too.”

  “Just make it quick, Finster,” Dizon said. “Kill the king, and be done with it. The people will side with you.”

  “No, my eager maiden. It is imperative that what is about to transpire is on the record. Give it time, and we’ll see how King Rolem and the likes of King-Elect Mather respond.”

  Finster was referring to the kingdom of Rayland. On their way to Mendes, Finster had left the same slabs throughout that city and on the castle porches and added Osgald the Bold’s endorsement.

  Placing his hands on the wall, he leaned out toward the city. King Roland’s armies, numbering in the thousands, had gathered along the beaches and docks. The colorful banners of Mendes waved among the ranks. Right below them, the war ships on the sea readied themselves for battle. “It would be sad if I had to kill all of them. The kingdom will need them.”

  “What must be done must be done,” Osgald said from behind his metal mask. “War is war.”

  “Aye, thousands against a few.” Finster shook his head. Physically he felt invincible. He could lift a horse with his mighty frame. The pain from the scarab was gone. He had all of the rings of power under his command. It was everything he had wanted. But inside him, another war was being waged. The Founder’s Stone, fed by the power of the rings, wrestled against his own will. At the same time, Moth wanted freedom. The savage’s great will wrestled against Finster’s. “Still, we must hope for a peaceful resolution if my words are going to hold salt with the other kingdoms. My name must be cleared for the Red Citadel to find its station among the kingdoms again.”