The Melaki Chronicle Volume II

by William Thrash

  “Here, I will try something fun.” Melaki moved the blue ball of light to her. “Are you feeling it?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  * * *

  Eliam and Tolos were trying so very hard not to laugh out loud.

  The old veteran slapped his knee.

  They heard Melaki say, “I will put it in your hair.”

  The eyes rolled up in Tolos' head as he tried to breathe. He turned red, his mouth open in silent laughter.

  “What?” said Bellina. “No.”

  “Just feel it,” said the wizard.

  Eliam burst out laughing and Tolos could contain it no longer.

  That's when Bellina yelped and gasped.

  Eliam fell to his knees, slapping the grass.

  Tolos fell over him, their drinks spilled.

  Bellina came tumbling out of the tent. “Get it away from me!”

  Tolos fell off Eliam's back, both rolling in the grass, laughing, wheezing, feet banging on the ground.

  A wild-looking witch stood up, her hair aglow in sorcerous blue light. She screamed and ran.

  Melaki struggled out of the tent, seeing the two soldiers.

  Bellina was running, from one fire to the next, her arms waving frantically at her hair. “Get it off! Get it off!”

  Eliam and Tolos, still laughing, looked in shock at the running woman. Her scream told them she was running away. A few seconds later, her screaming got closer.

  Melaki stood there, fists on hips, shaking his head. “Bellina,” he called.

  Her scream preceded her return. She leaned down, bent at the waist, shaking her head. Her blue hair flew everywhere. “Get it off!”

  Melaki flicked a finger and the light was gone.

  The witch still swiped at her hair as if something was wrong with it.

  “It is gone,” said Melaki.

  She straightened, pulling at her hair to see it. Then she took a step forward and slapped the wizard across the face. “You will not ever put that in my hair again.”

  Eliam and Tolos descended into gales of laughter once again.

  Melaki glared at them. “I was just trying to show her--”

  The laughter hurt his own ears. Eliam thought he was going to die.

  CHAPTER 15

  Melaki stopped on the last ridge before Galvir. Peering out from the trees, he could make out the enormous city. Tall spires and towers in purples and grays jumbled together in a densely sprawling metropolis larger than any he had ever seen, save for Altanlea.

  The normal smoke hung over the city, but thicker than any in his experience. An odd fragrance could be smelled even at this distance. Smoke tended to soak into the waters above, but a large city usually produced more than the waters could soak and smells would often bounce back down for a distance away from a large city.

  “Our goal,” he said. And a stepping stone to more farther east?

  Bellina hugged his arm. “A beautiful city, if wretched in its rule.”

  Finli said, “We should be to the walls well before noon. We will assault upon arrival.”

  Nothing had stood in their way.

  Melaki turned. So did Eliam and Adaris, and Tolos and Finli. Behind them, waiting, were thousands of Vattonses. Women with pitchforks, men that had formed city guards, even a number of bandits that had felt the call.

  What that call was, Melaki did not know. But the force with them knew it. Felt it. They would be of great use. In the confusion of the angry citizens, they would strike for the palace with all haste.

  * * *

  Eliam nudged Tolos. “Stay close, old friend.”

  His former leader thrust a chin at Melaki. “I hope he is what he pretends to be.”

  Eliam nodded. “I have seen some of his ability. But a city assault? A demon? We shall see.”

  If Melaki had heard their low conversation, he gave no indication. Eyeballing Rishtu flapping around ahead, he made the motion to move.

  Eliam said, “Here we go.”

  * * *

  Melaki heard the first alarm horn when they were still a hundred paces out from the city. There were no walls, the city having outgrown itself hundreds of years before. He could see the palace, though, sitting atop a hill within the city. It looked sturdy.

  Amongst the Callacans, two dozen men carried an enormous battering ram hacked yesterday from the surrounding forest.

  He was not sure they would need it.

  No forces sallied from the city to intercept them. All at a trot, they broke into a run when they were fifty paces from the city.

  Rishtu circled overhead, his head angling, searching. That he was not squawking was a very good sign. Eventually, he cawed twice and flapped in agitation.

  So there are some soldiers in there.

  A great yell rose from the Vattonses as they charged. Flowing into several streets along the outer edge of the city, they were still constricted by the masses of people trying to get in.

  Melaki heard the thudding of his heart as he ran up a street and onto a broad avenue. Tolos and his men fanned out beside him as he looked for the fastest route to the palace. “That way, I should think.” He pointed, and the men began running.

  Bellina, trotting beside him, said, “The city looks dirtier than I remembered.”

  Eliam, eyes scanning left and right with a hundred years of practice, said, “Perhaps the usurper cares not for cleanliness.”

  A body of citizens, ringed by soldiers wearing Vattonses uniforms, were being herded up the street ahead of them. Several of the soldiers looked back, blankly, but raised no alarm. The citizens looked frightened.

  Eliam's voice carried to Tolos and his men, and the Callacan spearmen with him. The archers were bringing up the rear. “Cut them down!”

  Callacans surged forward, both veterans and soldiers. Quite a few of the veterans with Tolos wore subcommander leathers.

  The soldiers were no match and did not even attempt to defend themselves. The Callacans hacked them down as they continued to try herding the citizens towards the palace.

  “There is sorcery involved,” said Melaki.

  Bellina was frowning, concentrating. “Yes, I saw you sensing within them in an odd way.”

  “I see it as a silvery cord of control.”

  “I did not see that, but I will watch for what I saw again.”

  * * *

  Lagash struggled with Goroth, hitting him over and over, driving him back. He was winning in the spirit realm. He had worried about Goroth's power. But the demon of the Atlanteans was indeed overextended.

  The blood sacrifices have worked.

  Beneath him, the armies of the Vattonses, cruelly spent, were making an even greater massacre of the Euskaldani. The bloodshed was enormous, on both sides. But, slowly, the Euskaldani had given up ground.

  The battle had raged for days. Slowly at first, and then faster, the Vattonses had won back a few towns lost in previous years. They were now taking Euskaldani towns and the pace of their conquest was increasing.

  Just as I sense Goroth's strength weakening.

  He knew there was some trouble at the palace, but he would deal with that when the time was right. As long as the priests kept him supplied in fresh blood, he would win against anything. He felt the power. He knew the power. It was his and he would become the dominant power over the Iberian Peninsula. He might even challenge Pruflas himself. He had felt the demon-lord watching.

  “You fail, Goroth. What is yours shall be mine.”

  The fat demon did not bother answering. The struggle was too much for him. The strain too great.

  Emitting a chuckle worthy of Lucifer himself, Lagash pushed forward, victory at hand.

  Below, the Vattonses forces surged forward.

  * * *

  Melaki shook his head. “I do not know.”

  They were trotting still, panting, but the palace was in sight.

  Finli shook his head. “Blood sacrifices of their own citizens. It is filth. Are you sure you think you can
handle this?”

  He repeated himself. “I do not know. Just get me into the palace.”

  Two lone sentries on the wall of the palace began firing arrows.

  Melaki shielded them, deflecting the arrows up and over them.

  Adaris muttered to himself. “I heard nothing about blood sacrifices.”

  Tolos shouted to a group of his veterans. “You, Camran, take your men when we breach the wall and clear the ramparts.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Reaching out, Melaki sensed ahead. Something vile overwhelmed his senses and also something familiar, almost obscured. “There is a wizard in the palace.”

  Eliam grunted. “Great. A demon and a wizard?”

  Adrenaline flooded him again as they passed through the open gates. There just was not enough soldiers to man the walls.

  We are in!

  “Spears, forward!” Finli called. “Archers, opportunity!”

  Voices thundered in answer.

  The door to the palace shut and the thudding sound of the bar falling drove home their need for the ram.

  “Ram!” Finli's shout caused a separation in the spear moving forward.

  The men carrying the ram began running, heaving the enormous log forward.

  Melaki leaned down to Bellina. “Watch closely.” He formed a force pattern and waited. When the log was three paces from the door, he finished the pattern and pushed, pouring his energy into the spell. The ram flew forward suddenly, smashing into the door. The door exploded.

  Unfortunately, the push caused the men to lose control of the log and the thing fell on two of the soldiers. The rest leapt clear.

  “Clear the ram!” Finli's shout held agitation for his wounded.

  Melaki's spirits fell at the result. He had opened the door but he saw what his idea had cost. One soldier lay, screaming, his back shattered. The other would never draw breath again – his head crushed.

  Running forward, panicked he started to apologize. A hand stopped him.

  Bellina said, “I think I can manage the soldier's back.”

  Melaki turned to Finli. “I am so very sorry, captain. I only meant to help.”

  Finli stood, hands clasped in fists behind his back. He was nodding in short little jerks. “Stay back and refrain from helping until I tell you to. In battle, much happens. Do not strangle yourself over it. Just do not do it again.”

  Eliam motioned Melaki back. “The man will do his job. He will call for help if he needs it.”

  Melaki watched Bellina hover over the man still alive. She laid her hands on his chest. Even delving her from several paces away, he could tell her magic at healing was complex, deft and very skillful.

  Finli's shout was all command. “Spears, in! Archers follow!”

  Eliam said, “This is where things become really messy. Your witch-friend might be busy for a while after we breach the entry."

  “Walls swept, sir,” said Camran to Tolos.

  “That was fast.”

  “There were only two men up there.”

  Tolos shook his head. “What king leaves his palace so undefended?”

  Adaris said, “Either one with great confidence, or one who has sent all his forces to fight the Euskaldani. I suspect both.”

  Melaki watched the Callacans pour through the doorway. The sound of combat met his ears from inside.

  Not completely undefended. He wanted to help, but he would need to conserve his strength for his confrontation with the demon. He still had no idea how to defeat it. Nevertheless, he felt he should be helping, not letting someone else take the burden.

  Adaris looked up at him. The spy was rather short. “That is not a look of confidence.”

  Melaki looked back, considering. “I am sure it is not. I have never faced a powerful demon before. Only small ones.”

  The spy sighed. “Have our chances dropped so low?”

  “Have no fear, Adaris. I will fight him with all I am.”

  “And what do you get out of it?”

  “I do not know. But surely passage further east.”

  “Back to your peoples?”

  Melaki was silent amidst the din of battle from inside the palace. After a moment he spoke. “I do not know if my own people would accept me.” He saw Adaris glance at his robe. Good, let him think that is the reason.

  “I suppose not, hmm?”

  “I think maybe lands beyond. Perhaps the giants.”

  “Like I said before, dangerous words.”

  He gave the spymaster a look that was both wry and dry. “There is not much of a place for me wherever I go. Perhaps I would have a kinship to the giants.”

  Adaris appeared to consider that and then nodded.

  Tolos and his men had crowded to the side of the doorway, allowing the Callacan regulars access in or out. The former subcommander peeked inside from the side.

  Eliam fidgeted.

  Melaki poked him. “Go to them. Stay with them. After the Callacans gain us entrance, we are all in this together.”

  The former subcommander pursed his lips but gave an eager nod. He ran to them, mingling amongst the veterans while they waited.

  “Melaki!” Finli's shout echoed inside and out.

  He stumbled, surprised he had been called.

  Soldiers moved out of the way of the door.

  “Melaki!” Finli shouted again.

  He was already running for the door.

  Inside was half chaos and half hell. Bodies were everywhere, both Callacan and Vattonses. The room was cleared, but the broad hall to the throne room was choked with corpses. Two Callacan soldiers erupted in flame. Bellina was in the entry, trying to heal as fast as she could. Her hair was a wild aura of iron about her head.

  Finli grabbed him and shoved him towards the hall. “Take care of that.”

  Thrust into view, he saw a corridor filled with corpses and wounded from both sides. At the end of the corridor was a robed figure in red velvet.

  Wizard! Melaki delved forward.

  The wizard smirked, his nose in the air. “Whatever you have, you have nothing.”

  The soldiers pulled back, dragging a few Callacan wounded with them.

  Melaki stood tall.

  The wizard opened his mouth again.

  He did not give the other wizard opportunity to boast. Forming three patterns, he put a magic shield in place. His second pattern lifted the wizard from the ground by the throat. The third pattern sought that silvery cord.

  He felt the wizard batter hard against his magic shield.

  Melaki's eyes went half-closed, conserving power and applying it more efficiently. He felt detached, watching, directing, but not in the present.

  The wizard's efforts were futile. Melaki's shield held. He felt the silver cord and snapped it. The other wizard's eyes bugged out at the loss, though he was already turning red from suffocation.

  Melaki took one step forward, reaching his hand up, as if holding the wizard dangling a pace off the floor. “I have nothing, you say? I have this.”

  With a twist of his fist and a loud crack from the wizard's neck, the other wizard fell to the ground, neck broken and twitching.

  Soldiers pushed roughly past him.

  He turned to get out of the way.

  Bellina pulled him to the side, where the wounded lay. “That was incredible.”

  He blinked at her. “That? He was nothing.”

  “You have no clue, do you?”

  “Clue about what?”

  “How powerful you are and how powerful that one was.”

  “He was nothing, like I said.”

  “He was far beyond me. Powerful more than most I have ever met.”

  “You must not have met--”

  “I have met many in my years.” Her gaze was earnest, truthful. “No wizard have I met such as you.”

  He did not have time to tell her the difference between using one's self or harnessing the power of a spirit. He wrenched his arm free of her grasp. “Did you see?”


  She knew what he meant. “I did. I am not sure I could follow – I would have to try it on my own.”

  “Such as I did, all the way through my learning.”

  She touched his arm. “It must have been hard for you; not knowing if they would see.”

  The din of battle increased and then ceased.

  “I can not be around other wizards. I do not believe I could suffer them to live.”

  Finli limped up to him, a gash across his hip. “The entry to the throne room is open. This is where I deliver you and be done with it all.”

  Tolos sent several men in to stand among the wounded.

  Bellina said, “I should have these mended soon.”

  Finli gave a nod. “I will depart as soon as they are seen to.”

  Melaki trembled, feeling the unknown beyond the hallway. Would he fail? Someday his luck would run out. Without a word, he turned to the hallway.

  CHAPTER 16

  Eliam watched Melaki walk resolutely into the hall. He nudged Tolos.

  “Right, men, follow the wizard.” Tolos motioned.

  Veterans flowed in behind the black-robed wizard.

  They entered into a hellish scene that drove many of them back.

  * * *

  Lagash delivered a deep blow to the flailing Goroth. An enormous rent in the demon's side showed the power and victory behind his blows. “You thought me weak for being in the flesh?”

  Goroth's eyes were wide, desperate, seeking.

  “Do you seek your little toadie, Ralial? You never suspected he was doing my bidding?”

  Fear and betrayal flickered across Goroth's features. The demon over Atlantis began to sweat.

  Lagash crowed in triumph. “You never knew. You knew nothing all along as Ralial helped me manipulate you to this position.”

  But a concern radiated within Lagash. The palace where his body rested had been breached. The throne room had been entered. It was time. Angered that it was on the very brink of total victory, Lagash knew that it mattered not. After he dealt with the throne room issue, he could return in full force at his leisure and finish off Goroth. As it was, he would have to be satisfied with splitting his efforts.