Oathbreaker: A Tale of the Wilds

by R J Murray

  “Always liked that girl.”

  “As did I, Constable.”

  Kristdor tapped his chin and looked over to where the high priestess knelt, her hands still bound in a watchman’s irons. “Do you happen to have your keys with you?”

  “Keys, sir?”

  “For the irons.”

  “Yessir, that I do. Carry the key round me neck so I don’t lose it.”

  Again, Kristdor thought with a smile. “Good. When out three new friends break through the barrier, they are going to be caught unawares by the killer wearing constable Asa’s face.”

  “That they will, sir.”

  “As soon as it is down, I’ll rush out to give warning and you, constable, will hurry over to the high priestess and free her.”

  “And not face the killer, sir?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Kristdor held back his smile and slowly unsheathed his blade. His gaze fell on the child lying on the cavern floor. There was a slow rise and fall of her chest that indicated the mage had merely put her to sleep and not killed her. Something to be grateful for.

  “Grab the child too,” he said to Snorri. “And keep her safe.”

  Constable Snorri set his jaw and nodded grimly. His eyes glittered with anger as he said, “that I can do, sir.”

  “Good man.”

  He turned to watch the three adventurers and waited with as much patience as he could muster, wishing for a moment that his sister were with him. Not so much for her magic, though that would be of great use, but because he counted on her presence when times were tough a great deal more than he’d realised.

  Mia didn’t know what to do. What little magic she had was limited in use and the way the high priestess watched the woman holding Mia by the arm was enough to give her pause. Anyone who could so affect someone like the priestess was worthy of caution.

  She shook her head as the whispers began in her mind, slow and insipid, barely understandable but just there, an irritant she couldn’t scratch. She reached up to touch her source stone, but a strong hand stopped her before she was even halfway there.

  “No need for that, little girl,” Constable Asa said. Darkness crawled over her hands and a small slither of pleasure ran through her. Soon her master would give the order to kill the girl, sealing her former master behind an impenetrable wall of magic. “I don’t want to have to hurt you too soon.”

  Mia shuddered and swallowed back the fear she held. She twisted her head to look for her friends and any hope of their aid sank as she watched them beat fruitlessly on the barrier before them.

  She thought back to what Wynn had told her when she’d first begun learning the little magic he had been willing to teach her. A novice mage needed to touch their source stone to use it, but with practice, they could reach for their magic so long as the source stone was connected to them.

  The chain that held it was resting against the back of her neck. She could feel it; cool and almost familiar she had worn it so long. When she moved her head it shifted, the metal scraping lightly against her skin. She closed her eyes, imagining it in her mind.

  She turned her head as she concentrated, feeling the metal against her skin, imagining it as part of her, connecting the source stone to her. But nothing came. She opened her eyes blinking them against the light from Wynn’s illumination and her gaze met that of the priestess.

  The beautiful woman tilted her head forward, eyes fixed on Mia’s as though she understood what the former serving girl was attempting to do. Her lips turned up in a smile of encouragement and she began to whisper the words of a prayer.

  There was no way that Mia could hear or understand the words she was saying but she took comfort in them anyway and closed her eyes once more. Reaching out for her magic, feeling along the chain for the nebulous source of power hanging at the ends of it.

  Her eyebrows rose almost to her hairline as she felt the warmth of the stone on her chest and as she opened her eyes, the many varied strands of magic that connected every single thing in the world came into focus. Including those that Wynn had formed into a wall encircling her friends.

  She didn’t need to move her fingers of whisper a word of power. Wynn, in his arrogant dismissal of her hadn’t bothered to do more than tie off the weaving in a messy not. It was a simple thing for Mia to reach out with her mind, feeling the strands of magic and pull on a thread.

  The barrier disappeared and Jochum’s sword swung cleanly through the air where it had been. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, rushing straight at the woman holding Mia by the arms.

  Kristdor was off and running as soon as the warrior started moving. He waved his arms as he called a warning. The former Constable Asa’s mouth stretched impossibly wide as black armour spread across her skin.

  She tossed the girl aside and pirouetted, ducking low beneath the warriors flashing blade and kicking out, booted foot catching him square in the side and sending him tumbling. A twist to avoid a thrown dagger and then two steps forward and she caught the blade of the ranger’s short sword in one black, armoured hand.

  As the former constable pulled back her other hand, claws extended, Kristdor leapt straight onto her back, his sword coming down against her skull. She shrugged him off as though he weighed nothing and lashed out with her claws at his falling form.

  The scream was torn from him as her clawed hand raked his side and he collapsed to the ground, hand pressed to the bloody wound. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, joining the warrior and ranger as they faced the killer in black.

  Constable Snorri, meanwhile, had managed to unlock the high priestesses’ irons with his key and a tug of his forelock in deference to her rank, before he dashed back to his hiding place, stopping only to pick up the sleeping child.

  Amina, hands freed and anger burning like a fire in her belly strode towards the killer. Her power had not worked before but there were other gifts her goddess had given her. She spoke the words of the prayer, calling on Ysnir to answer her and gift her with the weapon she needed to fight the monster.

  Her hand closed around the shaft of a mace made entirely of golden light and she smiled grimly, eyes meeting those of her love for an all too fleeting moment as she joined them in making a rough ring around the killer. Mia was next to join them, hand clutching her dagger and fingers weaving a spell.

  The creature that had taken the face and name of constable Asa and had lived her life long enough to even consider itself to be her, laughed, the sound hollow from the faceless mask she wore.

  “My former master awakens. When he does, my new master will face the same fate as each of you.”

  “You can’t kill us,” Jochum said, sword held before him. “As soon as you do, the prison door closes on the both of them.”

  “I am forbidden from killing you, this is true,” Asa admitted. “But I can cripple you.”

  She moved with a lightning speed, dancing between the thrusting and slashing blades, twisting around the thrown knife and catching it in her hand before reversing its flight and sending it back from whence it came.

  Syn cried out as his own dagger buried itself to the hilt in his arm and cursed his leg for slowing him enough that he couldn’t move fully out of its way.

  Elva flew past him to crash through a stalagmite with such force that she crumpled to the ground and lay still. Kristdor shared a look with the warrior and they moved in together, blades flashing in unison.

  Mia, watching for an opening marvelled at the skill of the two men. They fought together as though they had known each other for years as they parried her clawed strikes and lashed out with their own blades.

  But it was to little avail as a clawed hand tore away more of the steel disks and dug deep into the flesh beneath. Jochum fell to his knees, hand pressed to his chest as Kristdor was caught with a blow that shattered several ribs on his already injured side and sent him howling to the ground.

  Amina was next, swinging he
r golden mace, sparks flying with every blow against the black armour. Asa hissed with each strike, seeming to feel the pain. And all the while, the voice kept up the whispers in their heads, filling their minds with vague promises of riches and glory.

  Mia loosed a spell, a dart of fire flying towards the former constable. She shrugged it off as though it were little more than an insect bite and spun around behind Amina, kicking hard with one foot and sending her sprawling to land beside her beloved warrior.

  “Enough with this nonsense,” Wynn snapped as he rose wearily to his feet. “It is done. Kill the girl and be finished with it.”

  Asa turned towards Mia who stood frozen in place, terror clawing at her. She wanted to run, to fight, to scream, but all she could do was stand there, her muscles locked like some lamb awaiting slaughter.

  Tears formed in her eyes as she saw her death approach and she sent silent words of farewell to her parent’s spirits, knowing that she would never see them in the afterlife.

  The former constable pulled back one clawed hand, extending her fingers and readying to strike. Mia looked into that blank mask where a face should be and closed her eyes.

  A sound like iron shattering made her open them and she looked at the black armoured killer with surprise.

  Asa stood stock still and if she had worn a face it would have registered startlement and confusion. A moment later she fell forward, and Mia got a clear look at the double-bladed axe embedded in her back.

  “I changed my mind,” Braphus said, striding forward.

  Chapter 33

  All eyes were on the massive Minotaur as he pulled his axe from the back of the black armoured killer. Kristdor, eyes wide with pain and wonder at the sight of the man-beast, spoke up.

  “We killed her once and she came back. Make sure of her.”

  Braphus didn’t reply, he just raised his axe over his head and brought it slamming down against Asa’s neck. Her head separated smoothly from the body and Mia shook her head, a delighted smile on her face.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “Later,” Jochum snarled as he pushed himself to his feet, tottering on unsteady legs. He pointed his sword towards the dumbfounded mage. “You! Oathbreaker. Time to meet your fate!”

  “Bah! You cannot kill me but all I need do is kill the girl,” Wynn said throwing out his hand.

  Mia dropped to the ground as a burst of energy flashed overhead and then felt herself lifted and cradled to a hairy chest as Braphus shielded her with his body.

  “The ascendant wakes!” Amina cried. “I can feel him rousing from his slumber.”

  Wynn raised both hands from below his waist all the way up above his head and stone rose before him making a wall that encased him fully. The others looked at each other, not knowing what to do.

  “He can cast the spell to seal it in!” Amina snapped. “But we need to be quick. We’re in no state to face that thing when it awakes.”

  Kristdor shook his head. He’d been trying to ignore the impossibility of the ancient being seated before him but the growing noise in his head was indication enough that he could not do so. The little he had heard of their magic talk had told him enough.

  “You can kill the girl and stop this.” He grimaced at the looks the others sent his way. “Tis the only way. One dies, or the world does. You know I speak true!”

  “Who in the nine hells are you?” Syn snapped.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Kristdor replied. “I’m only speaking what we all know to be truth.”

  Mia, her head pressed against the massive minotaur’s chest felt a tear run down her cheek. She too knew that was the case. She placed one hand on Braphus’ chest and when he looked down at her, she could see in his deep brown eyes that he knew what she intended.

  He let her down and she patted his chest gently as she stepped around him. “You know he’s right.”

  “No!” Jochum said. “If one must die to end this farce then let it be me. Just promise me one thing. Kill that son of a whore mage!”

  “It won’t work,” Mia said softly. “You’re still protected by the oath you swore. Your willingness to die would simply mean it wouldn’t work.”

  A tremble ran through the room, a sense of gathering power rising around them and the young woman swallowed hard. She closed her eyes for a moment and then turned to the man who had first spoken.

  “I will not ask my friends to do this.”

  “Aye, lass. I will do this deed. One more failing to add to my long list. Tis a duty I can endure to keep my people safe.”

  “You so much as raise your blade and I shall end you!” Syn cried. “Stop this madness. We came here for a reason and that has not changed. Let the ascendant awaken and we shall face it with our swords ready. If it kills us it will doom itself.”

  Braphus snorted and shook his shaggy head. The words were in his mind too and he eyed the ancient being with something close to true hate in his gaze.

  “Samel,” he said slowly. “Leader of the Thirteen. The first to break his oath. The one who struck down the mother of my people.”

  The others stared at him and then at the ancient ascendant and a shiver ran down more than one spine.

  “I agree with, Syn,” Amina said. She clasped Jochum's arm as though afraid to let go and stared into his eyes as she spoke. “All of you will leave but those of us who first began this madness.”

  “With death comes victory,” Jochum said with a smile, repeating the toast he had said what seemed an age ago in the forward cabin of the Raven.

  “As always, my love,” Amina said with a smile.

  “I shall stand with you,” Braphus said. “This is an ancient enemy of my people and I will not back down from him.”

  “Corruption take you all, I will too,” Kristdor said with a grimace of pain.

  Mia swallowed hard and forced a smile to her face as she looked at the others. “Well, I can hardly walk home alone, can I?”

  Jochum nodded to each of them in turn and turned to face the ascendant. He raised his blade and whispered a silent prayer that he be taken before any other.

  “Anyone think we should wake Elva and ask her?” Syn asked, raising a much-needed laugh from his friends.

  “With death comes victory,” Mia said softly, understanding finally, the meaning behind the words as she stepped up beside the warrior and priestess.

  “We’re all thrice damned fools,” Syn said. “But better to die while I’m young and pretty. With death comes victory, my friends.”

  Kristdor shared a look with Braphus and shrugged his shoulders, unsure what crazy band he had fallen in with. But he spoke the words and so did the minotaur. They moved to stand with the others, their weapons raised and ready as the charge in the air grew to be almost more than they could bear.

  Mia looked back at the wall of rock that Wynn had made and could see no thread to untangle. He’d learnt from his mistake it would seem. She fought back her tears and began to weave her magic knowing it would do little.

  The voice in their heads grew unbearably loud and they each struggled to maintain their balance as the room began to shake around them. Stalactites broke free from the cavern roof, crashing against the ground and exploding into a thousand pieces.

  Rock cracked in the walls, great pieces of limestone breaking away and crashing down. Mia risked a look back once more and let out a cry.

  “His wall is down!”

  The others all turned as one as the fat mage was revealed, his spell crumbling before the strength of the ascendants awakening.

  Wynn waved his hands, the spell fading away as he set off running around the far side of the cavern, heading for the entrance tunnel!”

  “Well?” Kristdor said. “Kill him!”

  Jochum turned away from the ancient being, eyes narrowing as he watched the fat mage weave amongst the stalagmites.

  “No,” Amina said gripping his arm. “You will be damned for it.”

  “Worse still,” Syn added. “You know what kil
ling him will do to you, by the letter of our oath that counts as suicide.”

  “You can’t kill me!” Wynn yelled gleefully.

  “I can,” Mia muttered as she launched her spell.

  It flew through the cavern, a dart made of air and fire with the solidity of iron. It struck the mage high on the shoulder and he screamed in pain, before dropping out of sight.

  A huge tremor shook the cavern and more rock fell from the roof. “Hurry,” Jochum called. “Before it wakes.”

  Braphus and Kristdor were already moving, the minotaur a great deal faster than the injured captain. Mia followed after them, brushing past stalagmites and leaping this way and that to avoid falling stone.

  “Can you see him!” Kristdor yelled.

  “Aye!” The minotaur’s axe spun end over end as he threw it at the mage, the iron blade shattering as it hit the stone wall of the cavern behind him with terrible force.

  The mage responded with a wave of fire that sent them scrambling for cover. Mia, huddled behind a stalagmite formed a spell of her own and sent it towards the mage, not expecting it to do any damage but hoping it would distract him.

  A fireball engulfed the place where she had been hiding moments before and she kept low as she dashed through the cavern, keeping out of sight.

  Jochum didn’t look back. In truth, he knew they wouldn’t be able to kill the mage before the ascendant awoke and he was ready. He would fight with everything he had and if he died, then that would be the fates at work.

  Amina gripped his hand and he spared a moment to look into her eyes and think of the ten long years he had been longing for her. He thought of all the words he wished he could say, of the life they could have had. No words would come but his eyes spoke volumes.

  She reached up one hand to caress his cheek, tears glimmering in her eyes and simply said, “I love you.”

  That was enough for him.

  “Yeah, I missed you too,” Syn muttered raising a smile on both their faces.

  “Here it comes,” Amina said.

  In her mind, her goddess was shrieking a warning. Her gaze was blind to where her chosen was, the spells of warding hiding the caverns from her sight, but she could sense the danger. Amina raised the glowing mace and prepared to fight beside her beloved for one last time.