Dungeon Master 3

by Eric Vall

  “As quick as that was, the royal guard is trained to be utterly alert,” Annalíse called out quickly. “Master, send a contingent of your demons to sweep this floor, but we need to hurry on. Fortunately, the throne room is on the ground floor of the castle, only one more flight above.”

  “Well thought out,” I said to praise the swordswoman’s quick thinking. “I will also send our legion forward to clear the way.”

  “Excellent,” she replied. “Onward!”

  To be fair to the warriors of the High King, they were disciplined and alert. By the time we ascended to the ground floor of the castle, the royal guard, a fearsome array of knights with gilded bear armor and massive, spiked mallets, was already amassing in the hallways and collecting at chokepoints strewn throughout the castle.

  But none of that mattered, in truth. Even if Annalíse had not had my unyielding power to use for her plan, her strategy and tactics were impeccable now. Combined with her intimate knowledge of the battlefield, her home castle, and the tactics and skills of her countrymen, she would have succeeded regardless.

  Still, having not only my ever-growing army of monsters as well as the amazing skills of her fellow party at her command turned what would have been a hard-fought victory into an almost effortless rout. We pushed forward into the immaculately decorated halls of the castle proper like a relentless wave, monsters backed up by our impenetrable sphere from which issued a pelting of Carmedy’s alchemical slingshot. Any warriors that did get through to assault the ward proper was met with a quick stab or slash of Rana’s poisoned dagger and fell to the ground, paralyzed, and any archers that Carmedy was not able to deal with quickly found their shoulders or arms impaled by a shot from Morrigan’s glimmering bow.

  Even in the blur of battle, however, I was able to appreciate the majesty that Annalíse had tried to impart to us about her father’s fortress. While the basements had been well-made but ultimately utilitarian, here in the castle proper, no expense was spared to create a true work of art, something distinct from the sheer wasteful opulence of the Valasarian king’s palace and gardens. Alabaster was laid over the strong granite walls here to create a near-blinding sense of purity, while the stone floors were polished to a near mirror sheen, only broken up by the occasional tasteful rugs of the massive brown bears and bánwolves native to these lands.

  What caught my eye the most were the tapestries hung in the chamber walls. Immaculate pieces of art, every one of them depicted some great feat of martial prowess. Be they individual warriors conquering on the battlefield or the bear-helmeted army of the kingdom laying waste to some terrible foe, they were all majestic, and I had no doubt they were all telling true tales.

  I found myself grinning as I imagined new tapestries being hung in the weeks ahead, one of our conquest of this castle and the other being Annalíse’s victory over her father.

  My thoughts of these victories and my focus on the countless directives I gave my monsters were broken by Carmedy’s gasp of awe. I turned to gaze upon what she and the rest of my minions were looking at.

  “The throne room doors,” Annalíse whispered as we all looked up at the immense doors made of polished oak, “or as we call it, the Bear’s Gate.”

  It was an apt name, for delicate carvings of rampant bears adorned each of the double doors and then filled with gold. However, those were the only things delicate about these doors. Steel bands ran across the panels to reinforce it, cleverly worked into the artistic scenes to not draw attention to them, and while there was no apparent lock, there were undoubtedly multiple bars of the thickest steel to hold it shut from the inside. This was a siege after all.

  “Well, princess,” Rana said after a moment, “I’d say I’d pick the lock, but, well, there isn’t one.” The fox woman glanced between us all before settling on me. “Want to blow this thing open, Master?”

  To everyone’s surprise but my own, Annalíse spoke up in my stead. “No, Rana. I’ve got this.” She glanced over at me. “Master, please keep shielding the others. This could get messy.”

  To my surprise, it was Carmedy who caught on as to what was about to happen first. Suddenly, she threw her arms around the freckled human’s neck and hugged tight.

  “You can do it, Annalíse!” the petite feline said with utter confidence. “You beat your meanie dad, and then everyone can stop fighting, and then…” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “... you can marry the Master and become my sister.”

  Rana’s acute fox ears flicked at that, and she blushed faintly. “Uh, now’s not the time for that, pussycat, but, uh, well, she’s not wrong, Annalíse.” She played off her embarrassment with a thumbs up. “Kick his ass. Master taught you everything you need like he taught the rest of us.”

  Annalíse blinked in confusion though I could not be sure if it were more from Carmedy’s sister talk or the fact that Rana had praised me in front of the others. After a second, she glanced at Morrigan and arched an eyebrow.

  “Uh, no well-wishes for me, Morrigan?” she asked.

  The she-elf raised an eyebrow elegantly. “Why should I say worthless platitudes when I know what the outcome of this shall be? You will be victorious, Annalíse, that I know.”

  “That’s our Morrigan,” Rana said with a chuckle and stepped back from the perimeter of the sphere. “Ready for the show, princess.”

  Annalíse nodded to Rana, then cast one last glance to me as she reached for the augmentation stone at Bloodscale’s hilt. “Master?”

  “Yes, my dear Annalíse, you are truly ready.” With that praise, I drew the protective ward inward with a spin of the God Slayer to surround just the four of us as the swordswoman stepped forward. As she did so, she pressed onto the emerald stone and activated its full power.

  Jade runes flashed across the blade as a storm of sparks erupted from the sword. As they danced down Bloodscale, the metal melted and reformed itself into its massive axe-sword shape even as the lightning ran across the warrior’s form, transforming her gear into rune-carved golden plate mail. Power coursed through her frame before eventually dispersing to leave the princess fully garbed in the shimmering metal.

  “Damn, I really need to get me one of those,” Rana whispered reverently as Annalíse took a step toward the Bear’s Gate.

  The battle still raged around us, something easy to forget while we were safe inside my protective dome, but Annalíse simply ignored it as she raised Bloodscale up high, even though several arrows shattered over her golden armor. Emerald lightning surged through the blade as she focused her strength, and then, with one mighty swing, she slammed the axe-sword into the reinforced double doors.

  Mystical energy exploded from the tip of the weapon as it struck home, backed by Annalíse’s augmented might. The sound was like a dozen thunderclaps going off at once, and all around the point of impact, monster and guardsmen alike were thrown away by the shockwave like ragdolls. The door’s steel banding tore apart with a shriek of metal, the thick oak shattered into a hail of splinters, and the slabs that barred the door from the inside were torn asunder.

  Even through the cloud of debris and shrapnel that bounced off my sanguine dome, I could see clearly that the Bear’s Gate, a portal that stood fast for centuries, had been felled by one blow from the warrior princess.

  Such was the power of one of my minions, and I had no doubt they would all become even more powerful.

  “Father!” Annalíse cried out as she stepped into the throne room beyond. “Your days as High King have come to an end, for I challenge you for your throne!”

  Chapter 18

  At the sound of their princess’s words, those soldiers in the surrounding halls not yet incapacitated or held down by my army of monsters suddenly fell back in shock. As a sign of good faith, I pulled my own beasts back instead of striking them down where they stood, and as the most battle-hardened of them regained their senses, they seemed to understand this gesture and lowered their arms carefully.

  Meanwhile, as Annalí
se marched forward bravely and the debris settled, we could all see clearly the throne room beyond. The size of the Bear’s Gate alone told me that this room would be huge, but it paled in comparison to that first hint. It was a chamber so immense I thought for a moment it soared to the very top of the massive fortress, but even so, it must have extended at least three levels up through the heart of the castle. The walls were white-grey marble and polished to a mirror finish, while ornate balconies carved from the same stone and fitted with polished brass ringed the main floor.

  That magnificence paled in comparison to the main floor that stretched like a canyon before us. The floors were tiled with alternating black-and-white marble like a chess board, with gilded statues flanking a long red carpet that led the way from the destroyed entrance to the dais at the far end of the room. Those statues were universally men in the familiar bear armor of the continent, and it did not surprise me to see a faint family resemblance to Annalíse among all the sculptures. This was a row of High Kings, all standing as examples of the valor and skill-at-arms upon which the kingdom of Tamarisch was founded.

  Upon that two-tiered dais was a mighty throne, a sturdy structure of steel, silver, and gold that would seat a giant as easily as a man. To its left was a smaller, more delicate but no less finely wrought chair, a throne fit for most queens, but I already knew which throne my swordswoman wished to sit upon.

  We would simply have to redecorate once this business was concluded.

  My minions and I followed quickly in the princess’s wake with my horde of monsters escorting us. Upon the three floors of balconies were dozens of the royal guard in their bear armor, heavy crossbows leaning on the railings for support as they aimed down at my horrific procession. They were joined on the ground floor by a vanguard three lines deep of soldiers, first warriors with heavy shields and axes forming a protective wall for a line of pikemen and rounded out by the third layer of archers with longbows, arrows nocked and ready to rain down on those who would threaten their king.

  They were lucky that they held their attack since it would be easy enough for me to destroy them.

  The High King stood atop the dais in front of his throne, and his presence was so commanding a weaker-willed man would find his eyes drawn straight to his tall, powerful form. Ornate but well-used plate armor like that of his royal guard made him seem even larger than he was, but his shoulder guards were more elaborate, sculpted into the familiar bear’s head motif and covered in silver chasing and gold leaf. The High King did not bear a fur cape or fancy cloak as many other kings might, but the whole pelt of a giant northern bear hung from his shoulders, the forepaws secured together with a steel chain to form a collar. The bear’s head covered his head like a helmet, but I could still see his wavy brown hair and his deeply tanned and lined face. His dark eyes flashed with strength and vigor as he scanned the cause of the disturbance, a greatsword of exceptional craftsmanship in his right hand and a black talisman with a familiar red design in the other.

  High King Animere, it seemed, had made some devil’s deal with Tuzakeur as well.

  There was a moment of tense silence as Annalíse and her father locked eyes, and the royal guard took in the sight of their princess in full battle regalia and the crimson field behind her that protected my minions and me.

  “Anna, what nonsense is this?” the High King called out, and his deep voice echoed through the chamber. “You insolent girl! You would attack your countrymen, storm my castle with these… monsters, and tear down the Bear’s Gate to what? Challenge me?”

  The guard, disciplined as they were, began to murmur amongst themselves, yet they did not open fire or charge Annalíse or our position. Still, at the same time, they didn’t lower their arms or part ways to let the princess advance.

  “I have, father,” the freckled swordswoman called back, her voice firm and steady as she brought Bloodscale up at the ready. “At first, I came back home to fight for my freedom, as you have wasted our country’s soldiers to hunt me across the world simply because you didn’t have the strength to take Tintagal on your own, but now,” her eyes focused on the talisman, “I see you knowingly conspire with foul sorcerers!”

  “You know not--” he began.

  “What did you give up for Tuzakeur’s dark power, father?” she snarled as a fresh series of alarmed whispers rippled through the guard.

  “Bah, you have no right to question me,” King Animere hissed. “You know nothing of what it takes to be a ruler, the compromises one must make for the good of your people, or the sacrifices one has to make.”

  As father and daughter engaged in this war of words, Carmedy clutched her hands together as she looked up at me behind our shield. “Master, if the king has the sorcerer’s power, even Annalíse’s augmentation stone won’t be enough to stop him. Shouldn’t we do something?”

  Rana and Morrigan both seemed as ready as the alchemist to spring to their friend’s defense, but I simply shook my head.

  “No, we must trust Annalíse to win,” I intoned with a note of finality. “Besides, the duel has not begun yet.”

  That was then Annalíse snapped back with fire in her voice. “I know more than you realize. I have traveled three continents and learned the lessons of true leadership well, and from what I have learned, you aren’t fit to rule our people! Your days as High King have come to an end, for I challenge you for your throne.”

  The soldiers were taken aback in shock, but some few, the younger warriors, in particular, began to take up the call for the challenge.

  “Foolish girl,” Animere sneered back as he tried to ignore the growing call to accept, “you cannot challenge me.”

  “Yes, I can,” Annalíse said as she gripped her weapon tightly. “Our laws state that anyone can challenge the High King. That includes me.”

  “You would kill your own father?” The king pursed his lips together tightly as he clutched the talisman in his fist.

  “I’ll do what I must for the good of our people,” Annalíse said firmly.

  The king frowned and was quiet for a few moments before he finally spoke. “And yet, you too are wrapped in foreign wizardry. Still, if you persist,” the guards took up the ritualistic chant for battle stronger now, “I will call upon my own magic as well. It is only fair, don’t you--”

  And that’s when Annalíse did precisely what I hoped she would do. She calmly pressed in the augmentation stone on Bloodscale’s hilt, and in a cacophony of emerald lightning and thunder, the axe-sword shrunk back to its normal magnificence and her golden armor transformed back into her usual breastplate and furs.

  “No, father,” she replied with a grim smile. “To use magic of any kind would dishonor our traditions. No, we will fight with skill and steel, with the High Kings of old as our witnesses.”

  Annalíse sheathed Bloodscale on her back and then drew her old blade still riding on her hip. I did wonder for a time why she kept her finely made but unenchanted blade, and now, I knew why.

  “Or are you so far gone that you would turn up your nose at our sacred ways, father?” she said with a defiant tone as she stepped forward and settled into a fighting stance.

  With that, before the High King could say a word, the royal guard before us parted like a sea and the crossbowman on the balconies above lowered their weapons. Their voices rose up instead, a sea of chants and shouts that praised Annalíse’s honor and called for the High King to do the same, to honor the old ways and face this challenge.

  Even for me, there was a moment of tension. Though my talent for reading others and predicting their moves was peerless, even I was unsure as to how Animere, a stubborn and forceful man, would react to this. I tried not to alarm my other minions as I summoned up my dark power within me, ready to step in if the High King turned to a dishonorable end.

  But it seemed as if some shred of honor remained in Animere, and he finally let out a shout.

  “Silence!” The High King then tossed Tuzakeur’s amulet over his shoulder. “Very we
ll, I accept your challenge in the old ways. Let the spirits of our ancestors see my strength and my sacrifice since I must slay my daughter for the good of my kingdom.”

  “No, father,” Annalíse called back with a strange reverence as she started to advance toward the dais. “They will only see the sad failings of a king who did not have the strength to do what was right and take our nation into the future.”

  Animere only snorted at that and began to make his way from his throne to meet Annalíse. The royal guard now fully receded to line the walls of the throne room as they took up a rhythmic chant in a language I did not know, perhaps some language of this continent’s past but from after my imprisonment. Those with shields beat them with their weapons to provide rhythm, and throughout the castle, men and women alike took up the song, something I heard through the many ears of my monsters.

  Though I could not understand the words, we all knew what it was. It was the song of war that echoed through the fortress.

  As the soldiers and guards had all stood down, I did the same and dispelled my scarlet shield. That didn’t even cause the guards to start, and I took Rana, Morrigan, and Carmedy in my arms to draw them back to the sidelines as well. We all waited with bated breath as the two combatants stopped abruptly about ten paces apart, dead set in the center of the carpeted path under the unblinking eyes of the statues of the High Kings. They settled into their stances, the High King’s blade held low and steady while Annalíse took the stance I had taught her with her sword high.

  Time seemed to slow as father and daughter stared unblinkingly at each other, and I swore that Carmedy was turning blue beside me as she actually held her breath at the tension in the air. A bead of sweat formed on the High King’s brow while Annalíse remained cool and calm. I wasn’t sure what was their signal to start, but when that sweat rolled into Animere’s eyes and forced him to blink, a ripple of gasps roiled across the chanting soldiers as if that had been a great victory right there.

  With a growl of frustration at his apparent loss of face, the High King’s composure broke, and he made the first swing. It was a sweeping upward slash that the princess easily sidestepped as I had taught her. Then she took the opening by bringing her greatsword down with both hands to trap her father’s blade. He moved to yank it free, but the swordswoman thrust a kick at his midsection and forced him back.