“Why do you want it?” said Ridmark. “The urdmordar I have met in the past had no interest in trinkets, only in food.”
“Because this world is doomed,” said Rhogrimnalazur. “You do not yet see it, but you shall. The shadow of Incariel is rising, and it shall consume this world as a wolf devours a sheep.”
“Will you not fight it?” said Ridmark.
Rhogrimnalazur laughed. “Why? Your fate is of no consequence to me. The rough soulstone you carry is powerful enough to create a small, weak world gate. One of my dark elven slaves taught me the spell before I consumed him. Through that gate I shall depart this world before the shadow of Incariel devours it.” She stepped forward, serene and inhumanly beautiful, and extended a hand. “Give me the soulstone, and you may depart with your lives.”
“Or?” said Ridmark.
Rhogrimnalazur smiled. “Or I shall kill you all and take the soulstone anyway.”
“Very well,” said Ridmark. “I will make you a counteroffer. Let us depart, and command your arachar and your spiderlings to leave us in peace.” Quinta hissed, her face and hands rippling from those of a gaunt human woman to the eight-eyed gaze of an enraged spiderling. “Otherwise we will kill you.”
“Are you so certain that you can?” said Rhogrimnalazur.
“Are you certain?” Ridmark countered. “We have the Keeper of Andomhaim with us.”
“Who fled from me before,” said Rhogrimnalazur.
“Because my errand was urgent, and I dared not tarry,” said Calliande in a quiet voice, white fire beginning to flicker around the length of her staff. “I have not yet tested my strength against you, Rhogrimnalazur.”
“We have two Swordbearers as well,” said Ridmark, gesturing at Gavin and Arandar, “and magic you have never seen before. I urge you to let us go in peace. Otherwise we will fight, and we will kill you.”
“Ah,” murmured Rhogrimnalazur. “What a pity you could not seduce him, daughter. He would have made a worthy servant.” Green fire crackled around her fingers, her eyes shining with the same light. “In a way, I am doing you a mercy, Keeper, you and all your pet warriors. You will not live to see your final failure. You will not see Incariel’s shadow consume the world. I will have devoured you long before that. Behold! Look upon me, and behold your death!”
Rhogrimnalazur took one step forward, lifting her hands, and changed form.
“God and the saints and the apostles!” spat Jager, and even Mara looked surprised. “Is that…”
Rhogrimnalazur took her true form before their eyes.
Ridmark had seen the true forms of Gothalinzur and Agrimnalazur, so he knew what to expect, yet the sight still struck him like a physical blow. Rhogrimnalazur’s body swelled to immensity, becoming an armored spider the size of two oxen covered in crimson chitin like armor plating. Eight knobbed legs arched from her flanks, each one as thick as Kharlacht and tipped with a claw the length of a sword, the edges gleaming with poison. The torso, arms, and head of a human woman of unearthly beauty rose from the front of the spider’s abdomen, covered in more plates of red chitin. Foot-long claws tipped the long, distended fingers, gleaming with more venom. Rhogrimnalazur’s true form was larger than either of the urdmordar that Ridmark had faced before. Perhaps she was older, or maybe stronger.
Calliande and Antenora both struck at once. The Keeper unleashed a blazing shaft of white fire that sliced across the courtyard, while Antenora flung a ball of fire. The urdmordar spun with inhuman quickness despite her bulk, her right hand moving as she summoned magical power. She dodged Calliande’s fire, the spell splashing against the ruined tower behind her, and cast a spell just as Antenora’s fireball reached her. Shadows whirled around Rhogrimnalazur, and Antenora’s fireball sputtered and went out.
Rhogrimnalazur thrust her hands out, and a wave of green fire erupted from her talons, rolling across the flagstones. Calliande cast another spell, and a dome of translucent white haze appeared around Ridmark and the others, a warding spell to shield them from Rhogrimnalazur’s dark magic. The ghostly green fire washed over the dome like a wave striking a boulder, but the fire spread over the entire courtyard, sinking into the white flagstones.
The ground gave a jolt beneath Ridmark’s boots, and a dozen patches of the courtyard exploded in sprays of dirt and broken white stone. Through the haze of dust he saw a dozen small chambers had been blasted open in the floor, like trapdoors or perhaps…
Green fire flared in their depths.
Or perhaps like small tombs.
Undead rose from the opened tombs, clad in gleaming armor and crowned helms of blue dark elven steel. Their flesh had withered to leather over yellowed bone, yet Ridmark could still make out the pointed ears and sharp features of dark elves. At least a score of the undead rose from the courtyard, Rhogrimnalazur’s ghostly fire dancing in their empty eyes and up their limbs, and more stirred in the pits.
Quinta looked at Ridmark and laughed, her eight eyes gleaming with anticipation of the bloodshed to come.
“Do you like my servitors?” said Rhogrimnalazur. Her voice boomed like thunder, and Ridmark felt the pressure of her words inside his skull, as if she were speaking directly into his thoughts. “Once they ruled Urd Cystaanl, and when I came here they demanded that I bow to them. Instead I bound them in my webs, and feasted upon them one by one for decades, forcing them to watch. They went quite mad. Now they serve me in death for all time. Soon you shall join them, Keeper of Andomhaim! Kill them! Kill them all!”
The undead dark elves charged in silence, while the spiderlings and Rhogrimnalazur began casting spells.
###
Truthseeker thrummed in Gavin’s hand, the sword shining with white fire. The soulblade seemed eager for battle, like a hunting hound straining at the leash at the scent of deer.
As the undead dark elves charged them, Gavin realized the soulblade might soon have its fill of battle.
“At the urdmordar!” shouted Ridmark, pointing his staff. Gavin understood Ridmark’s strategy. The Order of the Soulblade had originally been founded to fight the urdmordar and their armies, and the Swordbearers had led the battles that had broken the urdmordar siege of Tarlion. Perhaps the very soulblade in his fist had slain an urdmordar in the distant past.
Perhaps it would slay another urdmordar before this day was done. Calliande might wield the Keeper’s power, but the soulblades were still the most potent weapon against creatures of dark magic, able to tear through wards and deflect spells of killing power. Gavin and Arandar raced towards Rhogrimnalazur as the urdmordar and her daughters began casting spells, Ridmark and Kharlacht running alongside them as Caius, Jager, and Mara fell back to guard Calliande, Morigna, and Antenora. Gavin drew upon Truthseeker for speed, filling himself with the soulblade’s power. One good burst, and he would be close enough to strike at the urdmordar herself…
The undead dark elves intercepted them. Gavin shifted to meet them, raising his shield to block their thrusts.
It was almost the last action of his life.
One of the undead dark elves thrust its sword, and Gavin caught the blow on his shield. He started to strike back, but two other dark elves fanned out around the first warrior, swords gripped in their skeletal hands. The undead Gavin had fought before had been mindless things, but the undead dark elves moved with cold skill. One sword of blue steel stabbed towards his throat, and another towards his leg. The thrusts were perfectly timed, and they should have killed Gavin. Only Truthseeker’s power let him dodge, and Gavin lost his balance, stumbling as the trio of dark elves pursued him.
Fire flashed before his eyes, and a thumb-sized sphere of flame slammed into the undead on the left. The withered creature erupted into flames as Antenora’s magic chewed into it, and Gavin had his opening. He swung his shield into the dark elven undead in front of him, the dwarven steel rebounding from the blue metal of the corpse’s armor with a loud clang. Gavin pivoted and slashed Truthseeker, taking the head from the undead upon the right with a
flash of white fire. The creature collapsed in a spray of bones and dust and blue steel, and the undead in the center attacked again. This time the creature was alone, and Gavin caught the strike upon his shield with ease, swinging Truthseeker with all the soulblade’s power driving his arm. The soulblade ripped through the undead creature’s torso, the sword’s power shredding the dark magic binding the rotting flesh. Bones and armor clattered away, and Gavin glanced over his shoulder. Antenora stood next to Calliande and Morigna, all three women casting spells. He wanted to thank her, but this was not the time.
If he lived through this, he could thank her then.
White fire flared around him as Calliande finished her spells, her magic making Gavin faster and stronger and better armored against attack. He wondered if she would have any power left to strike at Rhogrimnalazur. Then he understood that she would not, that it was up to Gavin and Arandar to land killing blows upon the mighty urdmordar.
He remembered the desperate fight against Agrimnalazur in the ruins of Urd Arowyn, how Agrimnalazur had slaughtered her way through the lupivirii and had nearly overpowered Calliande.
How his father, his poor, cowardly father, had found his nerve at last and sacrificed himself to save Gavin from Agrimnalazur’s wrath.
Perhaps if Gavin had carried Truthseeker then, he could have saved his father
Perhaps he could keep Rhogrimnalazur and her servants from killing his friends.
Gavin fought his way to the side of Arandar and Ridmark, Truthseeker trailing white fire.
###
Calliande held her wards in place, maintaining the augmentation spells. Rhogrimnalazur turned, green fire and writhing shadow twisting around her talons, and pushed her left hand towards Calliande. A lance of snarling shadow and crackling green fire stabbed from the urdmordar’s clawed fingers, and Calliande’s wards shuddered beneath the impact, wavering like a banner caught in the storm. Had the spell ripped through her wards, it would have killed her and both Morigna and Antenora in a single heartbeat.
But her wards held. Even with all the furious power of an urdmordar behind the spell, her wards held intact against the attack.
For that was the secret of the Keeper, the secret that had allowed the past Keepers of Andomhaim to defend the realm from orcish warlocks and dark elven wizards and the wrath of the urdmordar before Ardrhythain had founded the Two Orders. The Keepers wielded the magic of Old Earth, mighty and ancient and resolute, and no power found in Andomhaim could resist it.
Conversely, no ward could stand against the Keeper’s power. Calliande had neither Shadowbearer’s skill nor his strength, but with the power of the Keeper, she had fought him to a standstill in the heart of Khald Azalar. Rhogrimnalazur was stronger than Calliande, but neither could Rhogrimnalazur stand against the power of the Keeper. Most of Calliande’s strength went into the warding and the augmentation spells, but she had enough left to strike.
A bolt of white fire shot from her staff and hit Rhogrimnalazur’s side. The urdmordar reared back with a furious snarl, the white fire carving a smoking line across her crimson-armored carapace. Had Calliande more power to spare, she could have done more damage to the urdmordar, but she had nothing left after holding the warding and augmentation spells.
Already the charred gash upon Rhogrimnalazur’s flank started to shrink.
The spiderlings cast another spell, combining their power to unleash a withering lance of shadow at Calliande. Again she poured power into her wards, deflecting the strike. Ridmark and Kharlacht and the Swordbearers drove towards Rhogrimnalazur and the spiderlings, carving their way through the undead dark elves. The soulblades shone like shards of the sun, while the staff of Ardrhythain was a dark blur in Ridmark’s hands, its length flickering with symbols of white fire, an echo of the mighty magic Ardrhythain had wielded with that staff. For all their prowess, the dark elven undead were starting to surround them. Some of the undead broke free of the melee and charged towards Calliande. Caius and Jager and Mara had held off the undead so far, aided by Morigna’s earth magic, but they could not hold out forever.
Even as the thought crossed Calliande’s mind, Morigna waved her staff. The white flagstones folded and twisted, knocking the undead from their armored feet. Caius dashed forward, hammering with his mace as he crushed the skull of an undead warrior. Together Jager and Mara sawed through the neck of another, severing the skull from the spine and breaking the spell upon the creature.
Yet five more undead warriors charged at them, more than they could hold back. Ridmark and the Swordbearers and Kharlacht were too far ahead, and could not fall back to aid them. Besides, Ridmark and Kharlacht had to get the Swordbearers to Rhogrimnalazur. Their soulblades were the best hope of victory.
“Antenora!” shouted Calliande.
Antenora spun, black coat billowing around her, and shouted. A wave of flame boiled up from the ground and rushed forward, engulfing the charging undead. Two of them collapsed at once, Antenora’s fire turning them into piles of smoking coals. Two more staggered forward, and Caius smashed one with his mace, burning bones scattering across the ground. Mara disappeared in a flash of blue flame and reappeared behind another, taking its head with a wild two-handed swing of her short sword. The final undead lunged at Calliande, and she spared just enough power to spear the creature with a blast of white fire, the force throwing bones and armor back a dozen yards.
Dark magic surged before her Sight as Rhogrimnalazur summoned more power for another spell.
Calliande turned her attention back toward the urdmordar, preparing her wards.
###
Ridmark whipped his staff in a circle, knocking one of the dark elven undead from its feet. The creature landed with a clatter of armor, and Arandar brought Heartwarden down in a swift stab. The soulblade split the undead dark elf’s skull in twain, white fire flashing down its withered limbs as the dark magic unraveled.
The undead defenders rushed at Ridmark, but he kept ahead of them, using his staff as both weapon and shield. The symbols upon the staff’s length began to glow with white light as he struck. The staff was not magical, but Ardrhythain had carried it for so long that his vast power had altered the nature of the weapon, allowing it to wound creatures of dark magic.
Ridmark might not have been able to call fire and lightning into battle as Ardrhythain could, but he could employ the staff in other ways. He knocked down another undead warrior, crushing its skull with a sharp blow from the end of the staff, and then deflected a swing. Kharlacht stepped forward, his blue greatsword gleaming with the light of Calliande’s magic, and split the undead warrior in twain. The massive blow left him open for a moment, but Gavin stepped into the gap, shielding the orcish warrior and cutting down another dark elven undead. Step by step, Ridmark and the others forced their way closer to Rhogrimnalazur. If Ridmark could get them close enough for Gavin and Arandar to strike…
A furious screech split the air, and Quinta and the other two spiderlings charged, abandoning their magical attacks to attack Ridmark.
“Arandar! Gavin!” he shouted. The spiderlings would prove more formidable than the undead, and they might stop the Swordbearers from reaching the urdmordar.
Gavin and Arandar went on the attack, Gavin heading towards the spiderling on the left, Arandar attacking the one on the right. Quinta came right at Ridmark, all eight of her eyes glittering with furious hatred. Likely she wanted to revenge herself upon Ridmark for the defeat at the ring fort.
He attacked first, swinging his staff in an overhead loop for her head. Quinta danced aside, reared back, and spat a gobbet of yellow-green venom at him. Ridmark dodged, and the venom spattered against the flagstones with a hiss, a small plume of white smoke rising from the ground. She started a spell, shadow and green fire crackling around her crimson talons, but Ridmark jabbed his staff at her face, forcing her to dodge. Quinta retreated, dodging around the blows of the staff or parrying them upon her long crimson talons, which seemed as strong and as resilient as steel.
Worse, she was tremendously strong, and took hits that would have shattered the bones of a normal man. Ridmark hit her once, twice, three times, every blow landing on her arms or ribs, but they only seemed to make her angrier.
He swung the staff again, and Quinta’s right hand darted out, catching the end of the weapon. She yanked, and Ridmark started to lose his balance. He could either let Quinta pull him forward onto her talons, or he could release the staff.
So he let the staff go.
Quinta threw it aside with a howl of glee, the weapon bouncing away. “Let us see how you can defend yourself without your little stick! Let us…”
While she gloated, Ridmark yanked the axe from his belt and attacked. It was a dwarven war axe, a gift from the Taalkaz of Coldinium’s Dwarven Enclave, and the stonescribes had enspelled its edge with potent glyphs. At the last minute Quinta realized her danger and raised her right arm to block the axe, which proved to be a mistake. The axe blade severed her arm at the elbow, and Quinta reeled back with a scream, greenish-black ichor spurting from the stump of her arm. Ridmark swung again, and the spiderling jerked back at the last moment, staring in horror at the ruins of her arm. The axe sank into her right hip, and Ridmark wrenched the blade free as she stumbled to one knee, her wounded leg buckling.
His next swing buried the axe into the back of her neck, ending the fight.
Ridmark pulled the weapon loose, the blade glistening with spiderling ichor, and saw that Gavin and Arandar had killed the other two spiderlings. The remaining dark elven undead were withdrawing across the courtyard, moving to form a guard around Rhogrimnalazur. Antenora loosed controlled bursts of fire, incinerating the undead warriors one by one, while Calliande and Rhogrimnalazur continued their duel of spells.
Ridmark raised his axe and hurried to join the Swordbearers as they charged at the wall of the undead.
###
Blood leaked from a cut over Gavin’s left eye, and another on his left shoulder where an undead warrior’s blade had slipped through. Yet Truthseeker’s power still filled him, driving him on with strength and speed. He fought back to back with Arandar and Kharlacht, covering both of the older men with his shield and landing hits of his own when the opportunity presented itself. Ridmark had retrieved his staff from where the dead spiderling had thrown it, and swung and thrust and jabbed, disrupting the attacks of the undead long enough for Arandar and Gavin to land hits of their own. Even without a soulblade, Ridmark Arban was still the best fighter that Gavin had ever seen, and as his own skill grew he could see Ridmark’s ability, could discern the touches that separated a capable fighter from a master.
Frostborn: The World Gate Page 8
