Heroes Gone Rogue

by Jason Kenyon

  ‘Saved you!’ Archimegadon called. ‘Hah!’

  ‘You did not!’ Valia shouted back, but she laughed as she did so.

  Then her expression changed completely, and, as if there was no battle taking place around her at all, Valia stared off in the direction of the castle with wide eyes. A moment later she broke out into a dark smile.

  ‘Oh… yes. Finally.’

  As Archimegadon watched, Valia deserted the companions, charging off between two of the block buildings, while several green demons pounced into the path of any potential pursuers. Mellara snorted nearby.

  ‘Well, that lasted long,’ she said. ‘Didn’t expect her to hang around anyway.’

  ‘Do you think we can hold here?’ Archimegadon asked, sending a flamebolt at some of the persistently-advancing paladins as he did so.

  ‘Princess has ‘em handled,’ Mellara replied, hissing moments later as a paladin blocked one of her arrows just in time.

  Ithalna was indeed in her element. With practiced ease, she was controlling the battlefield, slowing opponents to make them easy targets for Mellara on one side, and causing enemies on the other side to stumble while they tried to duel Tharanor. Not content with this, Ithalna was also redirecting bolts of light that some of the back-line paladins were casting, sending them to harmlessly strike the block buildings or simply fly off into the cavern gloom.

  Tharanor, meanwhile, was steadily moving in the direction of the central castle, leading his enemies on a merry dance. He’d taken a few hits, but between his own skill, Ithalna’s assistance, and Anjilo’s blessings, he was taking on more opponents than he could have previously imagined. However, his change in position opened up the group’s left side, forcing Anjilo to drop her previous support casting and draw her own sword, filling the gap Tharanor had left.

  As Ithalna moved her casting over to aid Anjilo as well, she lost track of Tharanor, who slipped round the side of one of the buildings and disappeared from sight.

  *

  Valia paid little mind to the cold stone corridors of the Shield castle as she made her way towards where the Syrakh was being kept. Her faithful demons had cleared her a route, and now the demons Obdo and Neurion accompanied her into the heart of the Shield’s little lair. She was reasonably confident that the others could handle the paladin assault, but it had been taking too long, and now that her scout demons had confirmed the location of the Syrakh and the presence of a certain other figure, Valia was determined to get things moving.

  Apparently the paladins had poured the majority of their forces into the outside defence against the demon hordes, as Valia met with no resistance once she was inside the castle proper. It had only really been designed for functional purposes, it seemed, as there were no decorations or banners on display, simply cold stone. Valia had been advised of the route to take, and she made her way as fast as she could, but she did pause at the final door to catch her breath before kicking it open and entering the castle’s central chamber.

  It was enormous. The castle was almost certainly just a shell for this hall, which felt somehow larger even than the surrounding cavern. Much as with the rest of the castle, it had not been designed to be aesthetically pleasing, but was instead an empty chamber of stone and dust.

  Valia gave a short laugh. Empty was the wrong word, of course. In the far darkness, she saw a large shape stirring, while just a short distance ahead of her was a solitary, armoured figure.

  It was a paladin in full armour. Unlike his fellows, this paladin’s armour had been tinted black, as though scorched by dragon fire, and upon his enormous shoulder pads were sinister golden spikes. Gilded wings rose from either side of his helm, and while his face was barely visible through the T-shaped slit, Valia knew full well who this was.

  ‘Malthanes,’ Valia said.

  The paladin’s helm twitched sideways for a moment, and then Valia heard a low, throaty laugh emanate from it. Malthanes was carrying a broadsword, and he lifted it to his shoulder, resting it there cockily while he faced her.

  ‘The demon-loving failure,’ Malthanes said. ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’

  As he spoke, from the shadow there came a great rumble, as if the very earth was cracking open, releasing some unspoken horror on the world. Valia watched as the Syrakh’s colossal head emerged from the shadows, its unhealthy, scaly skin stretched across where eyes might have once been. She took in a sharp breath as she saw that metal plates had been hammered into it, lining its jaws and the ridges atop its head, and felt its pain shared with her.

  The Syrakh continued its advance from the darkness, and Valia beheld the torture that had been visited upon the rest of it. Not content with the natural strength of the king demon of Marr’s former army, Salestis and Malthanes had fixed armour to its flesh with thick nails, and where those had not sufficed they had scorched beast and metal until both were as one. Valia could also feel energy within the creature – a twisted mess of Light and elemental powers, swirling about the creature’s body uncontrolled. Images shot through Valia’s head of its captors, and she saw the memories of chained mages forced to cast upon it, made to empower the creature, before eventually being fed to it once they had no further use to the Shield.

  ‘You thought you were so clever,’ Malthanes said, ‘but we were ready for you this time. Farewell.’

  The Syrakh opened its great maw, and Valia could sense the power within it building for a breath of magical flames. Malthanes had created his own twisted version of a mythical dragon, and he now expected for it to bring an end to Valia.

  Valia had no intention of losing so easily. She reached out her mind to the Syrakh and tried to get past the paladin’s control, soothing it and assuring it that she was no threat, and that she was there to free it. Confusion flickered through the Syrakh’s mind, and Valia could sense the echoes of another voice telling it to burn the woman before it, threatening it with further agonies should it resist.

  But resist it did. The Syrakh took slow steps backwards, as if seeking the embrace of the darkness to protect it.

  Valia hissed with frustration – she’d wanted to get it to kill Malthanes – but she would be satisfied with it not killing her for now. To either side of her, her demon guards growled at Malthanes.

  Malthanes was grasping an amulet on his chest with his left hand, and he stared back at the Syrakh, waiting for it to answer his commands, but it would not come to him. He eventually gave up and turned to face Valia, who smirked at him.

  ‘Cute,’ Malthanes said. ‘Don’t think that will save you, though.’

  ‘Oh, I think we’ll be more than enough,’ Valia said, stepping forward a pace, and her demon guards advanced along with her. In his arrogance, Malthanes had thought he only needed the Syrakh to protect him, and now he was to going to pay for it.

  ‘Of course,’ Malthanes said. ‘You need those creatures to do all your work for you.’ His head twitched. ‘I’ve heard all about you. How you could not handle being a knight… how you were disgraced and sent to guard bumpkins. Is that why you threw your lot in with cultists? You weren’t good enough to be a knight once you didn’t have war heroes talking you up?’

  Valia’s smile faded, and while she knew what Malthanes was trying to do, she couldn’t help but feel anger flare up as he mocked her. Becoming a knight had been her one accomplishment of pride, and she couldn’t stand to have that jeered.

  ‘I see I guessed right,’ Malthanes said. ‘You weren’t good enough to fight people like Sir Ilduk, so you had to take the coward’s way out and attack him while he was defenceless. And look at you now – you’ve done nothing of note. Chased around Valanthas like a stray dog… friendless, alone… and you even let your brother die in your place.’

  Breathing hard, Valia tried to control her anger. She could feel her face go red, and cursed her inability to hide her emotions. She could hear the triumph in Malthanes’s voice as he continued his mockery, and that only made her more furious.

  ‘Come on then, V
alia,’ Malthanes said. ‘No answer from you? Let’s hear something! Or are you afraid? Speak with your weapon if you prefer – I will fight you and your demons if you’re frightened to take me on alone.’

  Valia wanted to laugh at how obvious Malthanes was being with his taunts, but they were working. Much as she wanted to push her pride to one side, she was still sore from losing to Tharanor back at Thorn’argen, and she certainly wasn’t interested in letting Malthanes die thinking he had at least been right about her cowardice.

  She communicated this to her demon guards, and they withdrew quietly into the shadows of the chamber. Their protective chiding of her almost made her smile, but, knowing what this man had done to her brother, she doubted her frown could ever be reversed.

  Malthanes chuckled. ‘Stupid girl. You should have kept them with you. The Light stands with me.’

  He lifted his broadsword from his shoulder and called on the Light, and the blade flashed with holy power, illuminating the gloomy chamber. Valia levelled Uldraxios, the blade pointing towards Malthanes, but maintained her silence, too furious to dignify him with words.

  ‘Do you know why I became a paladin?’ Malthanes asked.

  ‘Don’t care,’ Valia replied, and she charged at him and lashed out with the polearm’s deadly blade, forcing him to hop back a pace.

  Malthanes’s head twitched again, and he stumbled as he landed, giving Valia an opportunity to thrust Uldraxios directly at his midriff. As though possessed, the broadsword swept around and deflected Valia’s polearm, and she cursed as she recalled Neurion’s Spell of Holy Fury. Using the power of the Light, Neurion had sometimes empowered his sword to fight by itself, and it looked like Malthanes had done this himself.

  Indeed, it almost appeared that the paladin was a puppet, dragged along by his living blade. Malthanes’s helmet twitched as he continued to strike out at Valia, who found herself off-balance now, and had to keep skipping sideways to avoid toppling over completely. She steadily managed to regain her footing, and held Malthanes at bay with some swift slashes that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a trainee yard.

  Cursing her own clumsiness, Valia adjusted her position and attempted to launch a counter-attack, taking advantage of Malthanes’s heavy armour to out-manoeuvre him. In spite of it he was relatively quick on his feet, no doubt empowered by holy energy, but Valia still got in a few scrapes. Not much of a victory, though; scratches against that armour were damaging only to Malthanes’s vanity, and could be quite easily cleaned up after battle.

  Not that Valia intended to give Malthanes the chance to live that long.

  Malthanes was audibly breathing hard, and making frustrated grunts with each missed strike as he swung his broadsword with rage. Valia began to suspect that his Spell of Holy Fury might have run out, despite his sword’s persistent glow, and she pressed her attack, determined to out-fight this bastard after his taunts. She felt her own strength draining as well, and regretted her previous night’s wine.

  Valia and Malthanes had now exchanged positions, and his back now faced the door from which Valia had entered. Perhaps driving him back to the wall would be the next thing to go for. If nothing else, she was determined to keep up the pressure on him, and delivered a sequence of swift jabs. To her surprise, they threw Malthanes right off balance as he over-compensated, and with a grin she lunged with all her force behind the attack, determined to skewer Malthanes and finish this matter once and for all.

  Just as she committed herself, though, Malthanes uttered a swift prayer and surged forwards, getting his footing and then nimbly stepping around Valia. As Valia stumbled past him, Malthanes launched a plate gauntlet into her cheek, and with a cry of agony Valia tumbled forward and landed heavily on her front, driving all the air from her lungs.

  She lay sprawled on the ground in a daze, dimly swearing at her stupidity, and heaved painful breaths across the dusty floor. Weakly she grasped at the ground and tried to push herself back up, but everything felt like it was spinning, and tears started in her eyes as frustration took hold. It was just like Thorn’argen again – she’d got too cocky, and left her weakest spot wide open.

  The door creaked open, and Tharanor stepped into the chamber.

  Valia looked up at him, feeling some shame at him seeing her embarrassing defeat, but also some aggravating hope that he might prevent her inevitable death to Malthanes. Tharanor stepped towards Valia, his glowing green sword at his side, looking for all the world like some noble hero.

  Then he kicked Uldraxios away from Valia’s hand, and the polearm clattered into the darkness, the sound echoing all around.

  ‘Tharanor..?’ Valia asked, looking up with wide eyes.

  ‘Payback,’ Tharanor replied, raising his sword.

  Valia felt her heart tighten in fear, and then she scrabbled to one side as Tharanor’s blade swept down at her, missing by just a small distance. Barely pausing even to curse, Tharanor lunged after her, slashing the blade with enough force that it could have beheaded her. Valia flattened herself on her back and watched the blade pass over her, and then aimed a kick at Tharanor’s leg, sending him stumbling back a pace.

  Dimly wondering what Malthanes was making of this interruption, Valia mentally called out to her demons urgently for help. Then she tried desperately to get off her sorry arse, though her winded body screamed at her.

  Tharanor was inconvenienced for barely an instant, and he charged Valia again, murder in his eyes as he prepared his final death strike. And then one of the demons slammed into his back, causing them both to tumble off to one side. Tharanor dropped his sword and swivelled in the demon’s grasp and grappled it, holding its claws at bay while he headbutted the creature, seemingly lost in a berserker rage.

  Valia quickly glanced over to check what Malthanes was doing, and saw that he was taking the opportunity to collect his breath, though he also seemed to be shouting something at himself and slamming one fist into his armoured thigh. Deciding to leave him to it, Valia got to her feet and put a gloved hand to her cheek, feeling it slip on her blood. Malthanes had certainly not pulled that punch.

  Tharanor was grasping the demon’s throat with one hand and holding one of its forelimbs at bay with the other, wrestling the creature over onto its back. Valia was both terrified and impressed, but relief joined those feelings a moment later as her other demon guard joined the fray, biting into Tharanor’s shoulder and yanking him back. Apparently unfazed, Tharanor elbowed the demon behind him and caused it to release him for a moment, and then he resumed attacking the first, trying to incapacitate it before focusing on the fresh assailant.

  Shaking her head free of the distraction, Valia looked around for Uldraxios, but her eyes fell upon Tharanor’s sword instead. Though her breaths were still coming hard to her, she staggered over to it and grasped the hilt, feeling somehow invigorated by the familiar sensation of its corrupted magic. She took another look to see if she needed to deal with Tharanor, but it didn’t appear that he was winning any longer. The second demon had regained its jaw clamp on his shoulder, and it was slowly peeling him off its twin. Briefly communicating to the demons not to kill Tharanor, Valia put her free hand over her winded chest and steadily stepped over towards Malthanes.

  ‘You… demon scum,’ Malthanes said. ‘Get away… I don’t have time for you.’

  Valia tilted her head in confusion. In spite of her mounting anger, she had no idea what had brought around this sudden change in his composure.

  Malthanes pulled off his helm and threw it at Valia, who nearly didn’t dodge it in time. She then stared at his face in horror. Where Malthanes had once been handsome, his entire face seemed to have half-collapsed. His irises had blackened, and the eyelids hung as though they were dead flesh.

  ‘I can’t manage it like this,’ Malthanes said. ‘It was getting better.’ He spat at the floor. ‘Stupid bitch taking my hold, Light burn Sal as well. You can both burn in Elgebra.’

  He charged Valia, broadsword cutting the air in two
before him. She didn’t so much dodge as she fell to one side, but she threw her weight in the other direction and staggered back into position. Malthanes, despite his reckless lunge, turned and swung the broadsword again, stumbling after it, his disturbing eyes fixed on her. As Valia stepped away, Malthanes coughed blood out, and his head twitched again.

  ‘Come on,’ Malthanes said. ‘Fight me. Stop running, coward.’

  Valia was getting tired of this, and she drew in heavy breaths, trying desperately to get some of her strength back. Whatever had happened to Malthanes, she had to take advantage of it, whether she wanted an honourable victory or not. She was having trouble holding Tharanor’s sword in her left hand in her condition, so she decided to try switching to wielding it with both hands for some extra support, though she’d not fought in that style for probably a year now.

  Malthanes slammed his sword down with such force that Valia thought it might simply shatter as it struck the ground. Then she brought her own sword down over her head, forcing Malthanes to hurriedly block the strike. He bared his teeth at her as they stared into each other’s eyes over their weapons, and thoughts of her brother ran through Valia’s head. This bastard was the man responsible, and she was so close to killing him. As this properly sank in, her thoughts of chivalry evaporated.

  She spat in his eyes.

  As Malthanes cursed, Valia brought her foot up into his crotch with all the force she could muster. For the second time in her dealings with Malthanes, Valia regretted her wild kick, as her leather boot was hardly much of a match for his mighty plate codpiece. It was enough, though; the Shield Commander took too long to wipe the spittle from his eyes and recover from the sharp shock to his nethers.

  With a yell of rage, Valia swung her sword and cut it straight into Malthanes’s sword-arm. His armour hindered the strike so that it did not take off his arm entirely, but the blade sank in far enough to render it useless. As he yelled out in agony, Valia kicked him full-force in the chest, and he crashed to the ground heavily, his right arm splaying out uselessly to one side.