Thruuum—thrum, Thruuum—thrum, the shield pulsed.
To one side of the hall Keverin’s mages stood in attentive silence. Not a murmur came from them, but Gideon’s prayers were clearly audible even though he spoke quietly. Darius stood unmoving within the ward staring at something only he could see. He looked peaceful enough.
“Forgive us I pray,” Gideon was saying. “We, your children, beg your understanding. Do not take this man. He strives for our salvation. Lend him your strength in his task and do not smite him for his temerity…”
Keverin added his own prayers to those of the priest. “Please don’t take my friend.”
“...as we believe in you and life everlasting. He is a good man, a just man...” Gideon stumbled to halt.
Slowly the wizard began to glow.
“Please!” Gideon cried. “I beg you to strengthen your chosen! With his power, which is your power, he strives to protect us as you protect this Earth. Lend him your might…”
Keverin glanced at the other mages and found them concerned enough for it to show on their faces. He dismounted the dais and went to talk to them, but before he reached halfway, the most terrible screaming began.
“AEiiiiiiiiii!” Darius screamed without a breath.
Keverin ran to the ward and looked in. Darius was writhing in torment as if a demon were eating him alive. The glow was becoming intolerably bright as if a fire burned inside him.
Keverin wheeled upon the nearest blue robe. “Stop this right now Renard. Do you hear me? Stop it now curse you!”
Renard gaped at him. “I cannot lord. It... the ward... it’s stronger than... I’ve never seen such power unleashed!”
Keverin spun back in torment at what his friend was going through. He shielded his watering eyes. “Darius! Give it up man! Do you hear me?”
“Lord, he has gone too far. He cannot hear you,” Renard said sadly.
The screaming went on, and on, and on. Keverin tried to shut it out, but it felt like it was inside his head. He blocked his ears shaking his head violently from side to side.
No, NO, NOOOO!
Keverin smashed a fist into the ward in frustration. The wall of light flashed in reaction and left his hand red and stinging. The pain was nothing to what Darius was going through. Before anyone could stop him, Keverin punched at the wall again. Right fist, left fist, right fist, until his hands bled freely. Someone grabbed him from behind, then another. Suddenly robed men were mobbing him from every side. Roaring he threw them off. Using both fists together as a club, he smashed them into the wall.
The ward flashed blue fire.
“AEiii!” Screaming in agony Keverin fell to his knees.
Sobbing in pain, he held his hands up before his disbelieving eyes. They were burned black from the discharge. The mages rushed him a second time and he fought to free himself from their weight.
“Guards!” Keverin bellowed still struggling beneath the combined weight of the mages. Glaring around he snarled, “I’ll have you all executed for this!”
Six armed and armoured men rushed into the great hall. Seeing their lord in peril they drew swords and charged. Mathius saw the danger and gestured toward the guardsmen. A flickering blue ward sprang up before them and the guardsmen ran headlong into it. The ward crackled ominously and the men jumped back more wary than hurt. Mathius gestured again and the guardsmen froze as if turned to stone. Seeing no help from his men, Keverin struggled even harder.
Darius’ screaming abruptly ceased.
The grunting of straining men was the only sound in the hall. Gideon had quit his prayers and was staring at Darius in sick horror. Keverin stopped struggling and peered between robed bodies at the ward. There was a groan of dismay from all present when they saw what it contained. There was an old man standing where Darius should be. His jaw was locked open on a terrible but silent scream and his eyes stared blindly at a horror only Darius knew. The glow was fading now as it finished its terrible work. The last of Darius’ hair fell out as Keverin watched and his straight posture crumpled. Darius fell to his knees and then onto his side. The terrible light seemed to drain out of him. It flickered fitfully then winked out. The ward continued to pulse and hum but at a much slower rate now.
Keverin shoved at Renard and Wregan. “Let me up.”
This time they obeyed.
Keverin moved to the ward and leaned into it hoping to push it out of the way. It was no good. “Arghh...” He pushed harder crying out at the pain in his burned and bloody hands. The ward brightened as it opposed his strength with its own, but it replied with less energy than before. It was not enough to injure him.
Keverin looked back at Renard with hope that he might take down the ward, but he shook his head. It was hopeless. He turned back and found the wreck of a man was smiling. Smiling? What could he possibly... Keverin gaped as a hole opened in the air. Lightning crackled as it crawled over the floor then began climbing the walls of the ward. It quested for an opening like a vine reaching for the sun. Without warning the ward collapsed and Keverin stumbled toward the gate. He barely had time to stop himself from pitching head first into it when he was flattened to the floor by the newcomer. He threw the man off, scrambled to his feet, and ran to Darius.
* * *
Julia landed. “Ow?”
She sat up only to find she was kneeling astride a darkly tanned man with long black hair frosted with grey at the temples. What the hell was he doing here... Julia gaped at her surroundings. She was about to ask what the hell was going on when her landing cushion shoved her unceremoniously onto the floor and ran off.
“Hey! Who do you...” She called after the retreating figure.
The man didn’t look back, but Julia was beyond caring about him. She was sitting on a patterned marble floor in a medieval throne room complete with guardsmen and a real throne. The pattern on the floor was like a coat of arms. There was a solid green circle with two gauntleted fists crossed in the centre. Above her head was a chandelier hanging from chains. There were four of them altogether. There must have been a couple of thousand candles up there. The vaulted ceiling was very high and supported by stone columns. There was something odd about them, but she couldn’t quite think of what it was. The walls were covered in tapestries and banners—more banners hung at intervals from the ceiling. It was almost as if she was in a castle or something. Ha! A castle, yeah right! She frowned at those huge columns again. They were very tall, but that wasn’t what had caught her attention. There was something bugging her about them, but what? They were all of one piece instead of in sections, and they looked too delicate to support the weight of the stone ceiling.
The tapestries depicted battles mostly, but some showed fanciful creatures like griffins and dragons. She looked back at the guardsmen who were busy ogling her out of the corners of their eyes as if she couldn’t see them. The swords looked okay, but the armour seemed to be made of leather. Shouldn’t they have been wearing metal breastplates? Julia shook her head at her preoccupation. She should be in the gym! Had she hit her head when she fell? Yes, that was it! She was in a hospital and dreaming all this. She felt much better about her situation knowing that. She hoped it wasn’t serious. She needed to be fit for the games no matter what.
Julia stood and walked around rather than freeze her behind off on the cold floor. The men standing together with her landing cushion took no notice of her as they tended to someone lying on the floor. All of them were wearing colourful robes. The blue ones were nice, more like an aquamarine than plain blue. She didn’t think much of the yellow ones, but one man had decided to make a fashion statement by wearing green. On her right the guardsmen continued to watch her without moving more than their eyes. They were as motionless as statues and looked uncomfortable.
“Hello, are you standing like that for a particular reason?” Julia said on her best behaviour. What she really wanted to say was that if they didn’t stop ogling her as if she were the only woman ever born she was going to slap th
em silly.
The man in the front was a sergeant if Julia understood the purpose of the chevrons on his armour. He glowered at her when his friends laughed, but when he didn’t answer, a man on his left answered for him.
“We be magicked, young missy.”
“Shut yer face Brian,” the sergeant said.
“Magicked? Are you serious? Magic is all tricks and nonsense...” Julia began but then swallowed nervously remembering they wore swords and this place definitely wasn’t her gym. “Isn’t it?”
The sergeant growled a no, but another of his friends answered more informatively. “Don’t say that where they can hear you,” he said nodding at all the robed figures. “The little one in green stuck our feet to the floor.”
“Really? Why don’t you take your boots off then?”
The guardsmen gaped at her, then looked sheepishly at their mates. As one, they started to pull their feet out of the magicked boots. Julia tried to lift one of the vacated boots but she couldn’t move it. They really were magicked! Thoughts of ogling went out of Julia’s head as a solvable problem presented itself to her. She gratefully latched onto it.
“I’ll just go over and ask the one in green to get them unstuck for you.”
“Wait! Don’t—” the sergeant began, and tried to make a grab for her, but his feet were still trapped within his boots. Julia side-stepped and easily evaded him.
This place was truly amazing. She hadn’t thought her imagination was this detailed. Everything was so vivid and colourful. She studied a tapestry on one of the walls and loved it on sight. Dragons flew overhead while on the ground below more were roaring and blasting fire at soldiers in armour. The soldiers were winning of course, but that didn’t detract from the artistry. It was gorgeous. The colours were so vivid and lifelike—all the reds and the gold’s, it was wonderful work. Maybe Jill was right about her working too hard. She might have had a nervous breakdown.
Julia reached out to tug the sleeve of the man in green. “Excuse me. My friends would like their boots back if that’s not too much trouble,” she said politely.
The man in the green robe turned toward her with a distracted air about him. Julia thought his eyes were going to fall out of their sockets when he focused upon her. Anyone would think he’d never seen a woman before. He stared down at her as if mesmerised by something. She squirmed starting to feel a little exposed.
“I said, will you let my friends have their boots back please?” She growled becoming annoyed. Behind her back the guardsmen groaned in unison.
The pimply faced man shook off his distraction. “I’m sorry, but your raiment... it’s a little... and I can see your...” He blushed so red he looked as if he had chronic sunburn. “Never mind. What did you want again?”
Julia sighed. Give me strength! Suddenly she did feel stronger and clearer headed. “I said,” she began slowly as if she were talking to a simpleton. “My friends would appreciate it if they could have their boots back. This floor is cold you know.”
He glanced over Julia’s shoulder at the guardsmen and blushed again with embarrassment. He quickly went over to apologise with Julia following closely behind. “I am so sorry about this—truly. I didn’t want you to start fighting. You can see our lord is in no danger. Now let me sort this out.”
Julia watched the magician intently and blinked in amazement at what happened. It was weird, but she thought she saw... she didn’t know what it was but it was something. The man in green glowed with an inner radiance before something flew away from him to touch each of the boots in turn. After it touched the last one the glow faded away.
“There you are. You can put them on again now,” the magician said before inclining his head politely to Julia all the while keeping his eyes focused over her shoulder.
Julia frowned and watched him leave. What was it she saw? She turned back to her new friends. “There, that wasn’t too difficult. Do any of you know what his name is?”
The sergeant seemed in better humour now that he could move without showing the holes in his stockings. She had noticed they were in a terrible state.
“I’m Sergeant Burke, lady. His name is Mathius.”
“He wears the green robe,” another soldier added helpfully. “That means he’s an initiate.”
“An initiate into what? Into magic I suppose. How high is green?”
“Third rank, lady. The colours go: white, brown, green, yellow, blue, red, and black.”
One of the guardsmen leaned around Burke’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t we get her some clothes? What she’s wearing might be all right for bedroom games, but we’re standing with the high and mighty here.”
Julia was about to snap that he could ask her what she wanted, but the sergeant spoke first.
“Good thinking. If you follow Brian, lady, he will get you some proper clothes.”
Julia was feeling a bit chilly in her leotard, so she ignored Burke’s emphasis and nodded her agreement. She followed Brian out of the throne room and into an entry hall. There was a large door ahead that opened into what she assumed must be a courtyard. She could only see a glimpse from here, but the ground did seem to have cobbles. The foyer was less ostentatious than the throne room. The walls did have some ornamentation in the shape of large portraits and a few small tapestries, but the floor was made of stone not marble. The stone was granite. To the right and left a corridor stretched into the distance.
This place is BIG!
Brian was frowning down each corridor.
“What’s the matter Brian?”
“Oh nothing much miss,” he said frowning both ways. “I’m trying to think of ways to get you into the women’s quarter without anyone seeing you. T’aint decent for a lady such as yourself to be seen in her night clothes.”
Julia grinned, nightclothes indeed. “My name is Julia, Brian, not miss. This is a leotard. I don’t sleep in it. It’s for gymnastics—do you know that word?”
Although he obviously wanted to, Brian was trying not to look at her. “No miss, I mean, Lady Julia. Do it be some kind of magic?” He said and finally succumbed. He peeked at her before going bright red and looking away.
Julia sighed. Men could be such children sometimes. “Not as you mean it, but I must admit it does feel like magic if you perform well. Does your country have sporting events where everyone comes to compete?”
“We have a tournament in Devarr every few years. I think not this year though ‘coz of the invasion.”
“This tournament, what events do you have?”
“Sword play, archery, lance work, wrestling, boxing, and... oh, all sorts of things. The prize is a gold medallion with a picture on it. A sword for sword play, and a glove for boxing, and such like.”
Julia frowned in disappointment. “All your events are about fighting. Don’t you have any for woman, like swimming, or running, or jumping?”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up. “Course! We have all those, but women don’t compete. They’re too weak and fragile like.”
What! “Oh really? Too fragile, I see.”
Brian didn’t recognise the signs of an imminent explosion, so continued regardless. “Everyone knows women need protecting. Why, any man would die before seeing a woman come to harm, or he be no true man.”
Julia listened to Brian and realised he meant every word. She didn’t bite his head off. After all, how could she argue with him when he was determined not to let harm befall her? As she listened to the intricacies of honourable behaviour, she noticed someone coming down the corridor toward them.
“How about if you take down that smaller tapestry, Brian. I could wrap it around myself before that man sees me.”
Brian glanced the way she had nodded and yelped in dismay. He quickly jumped onto a chair and tugged down the tapestry. It was a nice one. It had pictures of horses running along a river. The spray was clearly defined and the colours were vivid. It must have taken years to make. Brian quickly wrapped her in it, and snapped to attention as the man reache
d them.
The newcomer was about a head taller than Julia was, making him about five feet ten inches. He was heavily muscled in the shoulders and beardless. The tight leather trousers he wore displayed his muscled legs to perfection, and incidentally made Julia feel a little hot in the face. His sheathed sword was thrust through a blue sash tied tightly around his waist. His armour was the same kind Brian wore and seemed to be made of boiled leather. The same emblem she had seen on the floor of the throne room adorned his chest on the right side.
Julia didn’t think the armour offered much protection against the swords all the men carried... not unless it had some kind of hidden strength. Magic perhaps? He was wearing his dark hair long with a leather band around it to create a ponytail, and diagonally across his chest from left shoulder to right hip he wore a blue sash. It probably denoted rank. From Brian’s reaction she guessed he was a captain of the guard.
“Report!”
“Darius died, Sir. He made a wall out of light and brought Lady Julia here through a hole in the air!” Brian said in awe. “I’m taking her to the women’s quarter now, Sir.”
“Darius is dead you say?”
Brian nodded. “He was glowing like the sun and then he fell. He was an old man, Sir.”
“Hmmm. The lord?”
“He was very upset. The mages stopped him from hurting himself.”
The captain’s lips thinned. “But he is well?”
“Yes sir.”
Julia listened as Brian concisely reported the facts. She was extremely interested to hear about Darius who it seemed had died trying to summon her to this place. Served him right too. She had been minding her own business and then wham! Here she was.
The captain turned toward her with a supercilious smile on his face.
You... I... do... not... like.
The captain inclined his head in a small bow. “Lady Julia, I am Marcus. As you can see,” he indicated the blue sash, “Senior Captain. I will escort you to the women’s quarter if you wish.”
Actually, Romeo had a very nice voice, but Julia had no intention of going anywhere with him. “That’s very kind of you, Captain, but I thought I heard your lord roaring about someone called Marcus just a few moments ago. Are there perhaps two people of the name here?”
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 3
