EXILED Wizard of Tizare

by Matthew J. Costello

  He saw the guard give him a horrified, questioning look. Though his mouth was twisted in a snarl, Falon tried to say something with his eyes.

  It had to be, friend ... had to be. ...

  His confederates had all found their own targets, but one of them had been caught in midstrike. He was fighting with a bullish guard, and losing.

  The palace guard opened his mouth to scream for help. “Get him,” Falon hissed. “Shut him up!”

  Behind him the White Dancers were singing, frantically pleading to the All-Mother for the souls of the dead already lost to the invasion.

  One of Rhow’s men literally leaped into the air, claws extended, and clapped a hand over the mouth of the still-active guard.

  Then Falon, the nearest, moved, his blade still dripping the blood of his first victim....

  Assassin!

  He stuck the blade in, clumsily, missing the exposed spot, and sliding down, almost tumbling onto the ground. The guard threw off Rhow’s mrem.

  And Falon leaped up, watching the giant go for his own sword. And this time his blade found its home.

  The guard gasped, and his fingers froze on the handle. Once again Falon drew the blade upward.

  The guard fell to his knees, his hand abandoning his weapon, reaching, instead, for his wound.

  The gate was clear.

  No one looked at them.

  And no one came running from inside to help the guards.

  “Let’s go,” Falon ordered. “And quickly!”

  He ran past the palace gates.

  Above him, the twin moons were still low in the sky … still tinged red.

  •

  “Enough of this beast magic—you’ll stop now, or we’ll hang your carcass on the city walls for the olna birds to peck at.”

  Caissir fought to keep a smile off his face. Elezar was playing his role perfectly, brandishing his sword like a madmrem.

  The crowd, quite naturally, parted to let him come close.

  “I’ve seen the evil that magic brings, and we’ll have none of it here, my fat friend ....”

  That wasn’t in the script, that part about being fat, Caissir noted. Still, Elezar was doing a fine job with his lines.

  “Now sir, perhaps you aren’t enjoying my small presentation, but I’m sure that there are others who are more than—”

  On cue, one of Rhow’s mrem, disguised as a drunken rowdy, stepped up, drawing his sword out.

  “Yes,” he slurred, “I like thiss. So why don’ you just get your furry little tail out of here ...” and he hiccoughed, drawing a titter from the crowd, “before I cut it off.”

  “That,” Elezar said, “I’d like to see.”

  And he was joined by another of Rhow’s mrem, as was the ‘drunk.’

  Caissir quickly looked over to the two guards at the gate.

  C’mon, you lazy louts. Do your duty.

  For a moment they seemed all too willing to let the exchange proceed in whatever direction it was heading.

  But then a young female went to them and Caissir could imagine her pleading for their intercession.

  And the young guards ambled over, not yet drawing’ their swards.

  All right, Caissir thought, let’s get this performance rolling.

  “Now, sirs,” he yelled, “if you will just let me—”

  And then they started to go at it, swords clashing, the audience screaming, backing away. As expected, a few of the more rowdy Tizarians decided to join in the fun, until it was a full-fledged battle, with Rhow’s mrem trying to avoid the sloppy, amateurish blows of those who just wanted to join in.

  The gate, though, was clear and unguarded.

  The guards were pleading for order, drawing their own weapons,

  It was time.

  Caissir slipped away, unnoticed in the mayhem.

  It was a nerve-wracking moment moving inside the gate. He stood in the shadows, breathing heavily. Then Elezar was there, beside him, then two of Rhow’s mrem. The plan called for the third to remain behind to keep the battle raging.

  “Well,” said Caissir. “It looks like we’re all here.” “Yes,” Elezar answered. “You’ll come with us, won’t you?”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  And the amazing and mystical wizard started to creep toward the castle of King Mineir.

  •

  “Me, please let me,” shouted one.

  Others joined in the chorus, some of them digging into their kilts and withdrawing great fistfuls of coins.

  Soon the group of randy mrem split into factions, all arguing as to who’d be the first to taste the wonders of this delicious beauty.

  It might, she thought, even be fun to stick around and watch just what will happen.

  But that wasn’t on the agenda.

  “None shall possess this female except me,” Paralan bellowed, drawing his sword.

  His announcement brought howls of displeasure from the excited group. At first one, then others went for their swords.

  It was dark, the moons were up, and they were not to be denied, Taline thought wickedly.

  Except that everyone, including her, would in fact be disappointed.

  The guards at the gate came over, and she went running up to them.

  She gave them her best soul-stirring stare, letting her hands touch their shoulders, pleading, promising. ...

  “Please stop this ... They’ve all gone crazy, completely out of hand.”

  The guards smiled. “We’ll do our best,” one said.

  “And I’ll be ever so grateful,” Taline purred.

  The guards marched into the wildly arguing crowd.

  Poor fools, she thought.

  She gave Paralan a wink, and then dashed away, into the delivery entrance of the palace. She looked behind her. The guards were engaged in sword-brandishing arguments.

  Much too busy to notice her, or Paralan, or their four confederates enter the small doorway to Mineir’s palace.

  •

  Out the window.

  It was the only way, Ashre knew. All the regular entrances and exits were sure to be watched.

  But this window led down to a dark garden where he was sure he could get out.

  The weapons weighed him down, though. And he wondered whether he could hold onto the rope, easing himself down.

  He stepped out onto the ledge. The light from the moons caught his gray fur, and he hoped that no one was looking up in this direction.

  He tested the rope, tugging hard on the knot.

  It seemed secure.

  The claw sword dangled awkwardly from his side, while the throat armor jabbed at his neck.

  It was too uncomfortable ... he could hardly breathe. He thought a moment, then reached up and unsnapped the protective armor.

  I’ll just have to be extra careful.

  And with that last caution to himself, he grabbed the rope, stepped off the ledge, and began to climb down....

  TALINE FOUND herself in the kitchen, the many pot scrubbers still hard at work cleaning up from that evening’s meal. They barely looked up at her.

  But there was also a cook, at the far end, supervising the tedious oiling and cleaning of the huge stove. He turned and arched his furry eyebrows.

  “What—” he said, pointing at Taline and her entourage. “What is this? Are you delivering something?”

  Taline didn’t know what to say. She felt for her weapon, buried under so many layers of material. But Paralan pushed past her.

  “A delivery of sorts.” He winked. “For the king himself.”

  The cook seemed to study Taline carefully. “Oh, then,” he said, clearing a path to the door leading to the main staircase of the palace. He waved in the direction of the door. “Then carry on ....”

  Tal
ine smiled at the cook, and walked past Paralan. If it’s this easy, she thought, we’ll get to the king’s chamber without any problem.

  She opened the door, and led the group up the stairs. The king’s private chambers were at the very top of the palace, overlooking Tizare.

  And, in between, two positions marked on the map as guard posts.

  Just how well guarded Taline was about to discover.

  •

  As soon as Falon entered the palace he ran right into a small army of King Mineir’s guards.

  Apparently their entry hadn’t been carried out as quietly as he imagined.

  As soon as the guards saw Falon and his three fellow invaders, they stopped, fell into position, and drew swords.

  “Lay down your weapons,” a captain yelled.

  There were eight of them, standing shoulder to shoulder, a wall of trained soldiery.

  The one advantage Falon had was that his own small squad were also soldiers, the best Rhow could muster.

  “Yes,” Falon said, letting his voice go shallow. “It was foolish of us to—”

  He moved quickly, drawing his full-size double-edged sword. It was heavy, without being impossible to carry. Rhow’s mrem also moved quickly, falling into established defensive positions, pulling swords out with a speed that startled the other guards.

  Not a fair fight, Falon thought. But bound to be an interesting one.

  And the battle began.

  There was no room for Mineir’s guards to spread out in the narrow hallway, so they were bunched up, two deep. Falon acted cautiously, waiting to see their skill before risking his first blow.

  Rhow’s mrem were not so timid. They made noises as they smoothly slid into position, poising on one foot, while raising their swords over their heads. Falon saw the alarmed expression on some of their opponents’ faces.

  Then Rhow’s mrem struck, carefully, with an incredible accuracy. Their blades hit the front rank, ignoring their attempts to parry and duck. In a flash, three of Mineir’s guards were on the floor. Then, as the others stepped over the bodies to take their place, Rhow’s mrem struck again. This time, a few of the blows missed. But Falon made his first moves.

  And while he nearly lost an ear to a wide-swinging blow over his head, he got in a deadly jab that brought down one of the guards.

  Soon, the odds were uneven in the other direction, and Mineir’s guards were steadily backing away.

  “Don’t let them escape,” Falon whispered.

  A general alarm of the Tizarian army would doom them.

  But Rhow’s mrem needed no encouragement. They screamed as they charged after them, scaring even Falon himself.

  He looked away, as the guards were cut down, almost effortlessly.

  Now on, Falon thought, and quickly too, before the palace gets filled with the blue-armored soldiers, loyal to Mineir.

  Mineir. A traitor.

  Or so I’m told, Falon thought. So I’m told….

  •

  Caissir couldn’t believe his good fortune ... nor the incredibly bad timing.

  For in this chamber, off the main entrance hall, was none other than King Mineir’s personal staff of concubines.

  And what a staff! Most lounged around wearing gossamer kilts with more slits than material. Others wore nothing at all, as they lazily strolled around sipping wine and eating from trays filled with luscious dewberries.

  And they looked luscious indeed. They showed no sign of alarm at his arrival, probably used to the king’s guests stepping down to make a personal selection for that evening.

  A few of them even smiled at him, languidly stretching, showing off their glistening pelts (touched up, no doubt, by some clever makeup artist).

  The enticing smell in the room was overpowering. “Steady, lads,” Caissir said to Elezar and the pair of Rhow’s men that followed him. “No one said our job was going to be easy.”

  Caissir smiled as he moved through the room, navigating the fluffy pillows, the trays of fruit, and the beautiful she-mrem,

  With a sigh of disappointment, they reached the door at the back of the room. Behind here, Caissir knew, was a staircase leading directly to the king’s quarters.

  And most assuredly, the very best of King Mineir’s guards.

  “Okay, you can take the lead now,” Caissir said to Elezar gesturing at the doorway. Elezar grumbled as he went past Caissir. He then began a slow trot up the stairs with his soldiers, leaving Caissir behind huffing and puffing.

  “Wait, please, I can’t—”

  Then, from the stairwell, he heard the sound of fighting. The clash of swords. He backed down a step.

  Perhaps I could secrete myself somewhere downstairs ... perhaps among all those pillows?

  One of Rhow’s men tumbled past him, crashing into the wall, spitting up blood as he tumbled down the steps. Finally he just rolled awkwardly down the stairs.

  “Oh, dear,” Caissir said, reluctantly withdrawing his sword.

  He went down another step.

  Then he heard the voices coming from below.

  And they weren’t the sweet voices of the king’s concubines.

  More soldiers, and coming up fast.

  “Trapped ...” Caissir said, as the other of Rhow’s mrem went tumbling down, horribly cut all over his body. “I—I give up,” Caissir stammered. Then, sadly, whimpering, “Please ...”

  The guards arrived quickly, their dark blue armor almost black in the shadows of the stairwell. Caissir saw Elezar and the others in the back, their weapons gone.

  One of the guards came right up to Caissir, snatched off his throat armor, and placed his blade right on his throat.

  Thinking it an appropriate thing to do, Caissir fell to his knees....

  •

  Taline and Paralan, along with three of Rhow’s best, reached the first guard post.

  And once again Taline couldn’t believe how easy this was.

  The two guards made some show of resistance, but soon realized that they were clearly outmatched.

  “Have them tied up,” she told Paralan. And Taline studied the walls of the waiting room. The brickwork was of a quality she’d never seen before. All the corners were perfect, and the edges straight. Likewise, the fitting of the blocks was perfectly even.

  It was beautiful work.

  But that wasn’t what caught her attention.

  She had never seen work like this—not in Tizare, not in her father’s castle, not in any of the great cities.

  None of the great Western cities.

  It reflected a skill with stonework beyond the capabilities of the mrem.

  So it’s true, she thought with a shiver. Hidden here, in the king’s personal chambers, was the evidence ... of an alien presence.

  She sniffed the air, as if she could pick up some trace of the smell.

  “They’re all tied, Taline,” Paralan whispered.

  “Come then,” she hissed. “Let’s capture the traitor ...

  She walked right up to the heavy double doors.

  •

  King Mineir had been at play when word first reached him. Two beauties, whose pleasure he hadn’t yet tasted, were rolling around on his oversize bed, playfully clawing at him, nipping his too-fat belly (the cook really had to go ... he was just too good), and giving him a wonderful romp.

  He hadn’t felt this full of youthful randiness in a long time.

  Unfortunately, the reports of an unauthorized entry from two locations—two!—reached him and he had to act quickly. Following established procedures, the captain of the guard set the proper traps, all designed to interrupt the normal flow of life in the palace as little as possible.

  Of course, thought Mineir, he’d have to deal with the invaders himself.

  He got up off the bed, provoking whines of displeasure fr
om the young beauties.

  “Later,” he said, patting each one’s rump. He picked up his robe off a nearby chair.

  There was someone else to be notified too, he knew. And he shivered, even though the room was quite warm from the blazing fire.

  •

  Taline pushed open the doors.

  The room was dark, and she signaled the others to stay back.

  She took another step, and Paralan came beside her. “It’s empty,” she said. “There’s no—”

  And then the room came to life. Lanterns were opened, bathing the small band of invaders in a pale yellow light. Then she saw the soldiers. Dozens of them, all charging, their swords held high.

  “Back!” she yelled. “Quickly!”

  They turned to go out the doors, but the doors shut from behind.

  Two of Rhow’s mrem leaped past Taline and Paralan ready to meet the guards. Despite a few well-aimed blows, they were quickly cut to pieces.

  Paralan raised his weapon.

  “No!” Taline yelled.

  He paused, and just as the guards were about to reach him, he lowered his sword.

  “Lay down your weapons!” one of Mineir’s soldiers

  snarled.

  Taline let her sword chitter to the stone floor.

  So easy, Taline thought.

  So easy for fools to be captured.

  •

  The way was clear, thought Falon. After eliminating the’ squad of guards, there didn’t seem to be anyone in their way.

  “Run!” he ordered, and he broke into a trot, eager to make good use of the deserted corridors.