A Rising Darkness

by Nikki Dorakis

  “It is a dishonourable tactic,” Kylos observed as he and Aenar fell in beside m followed by four Morlan hoplites.

  I looked at Faedron and Maegor who both simple shrugged. Tariq and Jae’nt made just nodded. I shrugged. I knew it was not a conventional tactic and said as much, but war was war and |the Black Legion had struck the first blow and had already shown that they were not averse to killing civilians and, if some of the other reports we had received were true, neither were they averse to taking children and youths and selling them on to the kingdoms of the far north as slaves. There was far too much at stake for me to worry about the etiquette of war or its so-called rules of engagement.

  I did not intend that either I or The White Guard should become the enemy or anything like them, but I felt it wholly justifiable to use any and all means at my disposal to bring their despicable actions to a halt. The Morlan archer held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “Put that way t’pahq, I find I must agree with you.”

  “Not that he would dare to disagree, Ez’n,” Aenar said laughing, “He is much afraid of your magic.”

  Kylos elbowed his consort roughly in the ribs. “Actually, t’pahq,” he said in quiet, confidential tones, “I am more afraid of your temper.”

  I laughed. I somehow doubted that and said as much, and would have been content to continue with the light-hearted banter but the scouts returned with the news that the Strike-and-Run forces were indeed encamped in two chambers a scant twenty cubits from the entrances. I nodded an acknowledgement and gave the signal for the gassing crews to seal off the mouth of the tunnel and start the fans.

  Once the attack was underway I donned my cloak and buckled up my sword belt. Dthor took hold of my arm and turned me to face him. “It has only been three days since you were so far depleted, my love. Are you sure you are ready to enter the fray?”

  I stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him gently on lips. “As sure as I am about any conflict I engage in, ‘b’zaddi,” I replied, “but I will not let you go in there without me at your side.”

  When the last of the Bane Briar had evaporated we ran the fans for a short time after, for although the sap was extremely volatile and its action short-lived, I did not want to end up being hoist with my own petard by running into a cloud of the gas myself.

  We had only gone a short distance into the tunnel when two legionnaires came staggering towards us coughing and retching. Faedron’s javelin claimed the first, closely followed by Kylos’ dart which ended the second.

  When we entered the large, circular crypt it was to find twenty or so men staggering and choking, their eyes streaming with tears and blood. Kylos and Tariq drew their bows.

  “No. Hold.” I said.

  The men looked at me in bewilderment. “Hold?” Aenar repeated.

  I turned to two of the hoplites. “Bind them and take them back to the city. We will not kill helpless men. It serves no good to become the very thing we are fighting to end.”

  The hoplites had scarcely entered the tunnel when a group of fifteen legionnaires charged into the crypt. The first five were flung back into their colleagues by a blast of thought that I scarcely realised I had released. The resulting confusion gave the Kyr-Garrin time to form up and launch their counter attack.

  Drawing my own sword I skirted the melee and then launched myself at the nearest soldier. My flanking attack wrong-footed the man, but he was a sufficiently skilled swordsman than he recovered quickly. Our crystal blades clashed showering us both with sparks and blue flame. His skilful riposte disarmed me and he threw me back. I fell heavily and he was over me before I had chance to regain my feet. My hand found the hilt of the shi8ve almost before I realised I was drawing it.

  The legionnaire laughed. “And what do you think you are going to do with that toothpick, boy?”

  The flash as I drew the blade blinded the man for an instant and he stumbled back a couple of steps. By the time he recovered his sight I was on my feet and lunging at him. He raised his blade to deflect my strike but my weapon simply cut through his sword, shattering the blade. My attack never completed for the soldier was thrown back from me as if I had shocked him and then vanished with a startled scream in a sheet of silver flame.

  Across the compartment the other legionnaires suddenly froze in mid attack, quaking like seizure victims before they, likewise, burst into bright white flame and vanished without leaving the slightest trace that they had been there. My own men stood transfixed for quite a while before Dthor managed to find the wherewithal to move and he turned to look at me.

  “What did you do this time?” His mouth was twitching as if he could not decide whether or not he should laugh.

  I examined the crystal blade. “I-I’m not sure,” I told him, “I lost my blade in the fight and drew the shiv because it was all I had.”

  “But, Meriq,” Jae’nt said sheathing his own crystal blade and joining Dthor at my side. “Why are we still here and not consumed like the others?”

  I shook my head. I had no idea why only the Black Legionnaires had been affected. “Perhaps the blade knows which side it is on.” I said as we made our way back to the encampment. “There is one person who might know something of its magic . . .”

  Dthor gave me a forbidding look. “You do not mean . . .”

  “Pendar, Anubis’ brother.” I confirmed.

  “But do you think you can trust him?” Jae’nt asked as I instructed a guard to bring Pendar and his keeper to my quarters.

  “He has made it clear he is not working with the Legion from choice, Jae’nt,” I replied.

  “But the sorcerer is only free of his Kaseem’s control when the man sleeps.” Dthor stated as he shed his cloak and settle beside me on the makeshift couch.

  “Then, beloved, you will put him to sleep.”

  Pendar almost smiled as Kaseem passed out under Dthor’s iron grip on his neck, and only when we were satisfied that the mage was completely unconscious did I settle back and invite Pendar to sit. His reaction when I drew the shiv and it transformed spoke volumes.

  “You do not realise what you have here, do you, young dragon?”

  “That is why you are here, Pendar,” I replied, “I was hoping you could shed some light on the mystery of the blade.”

  The old man listened intently as I recounted the events of the recent skirmish and when I had finished speaking he was silent for a long while. “I believe you are in possession of The First Blade,” he said, “the blade that is the father of all the others.”

  “But how does this explain what happened to the Black Legion. And why did it not happen to my own men?”

  The old sorcerer smiled. “Does not a father know his own children?”

  “Zoar’s teeth, Meriq, you were right!” Dthor turned to the others. “The blade knows who its allies are!”

  “Indeed,” Pendar stated. “But only insofar as to whom it has been willed. The Keeper of the Blade must hand it willingly to another.”

  “It was a bequest,” I admitted.

  “Then The First Blade knows you are its master and it will protect those who bear the crystal swords by your side.” Pendar turned to Dthor. “Draw your blade, Lord Consort.”

  Dthor looked at me uncertainly. I nodded and he drew the crystal scimitar from its scabbard. Pendar turned to me. “Draw the blade again.”

  As the shiv transformed once more Dthor’s own blade changed from yellow to white. Pendar gestured to the others indicating that they should do likewise. One by one the swords all changed from their normal golden yellow and shone white as the moons. The old sorcerer nodded approvingly. “You hold the key to defeating this blight, Meriq of the White Guard. All you need to do is find Caerlon where he lurks in the Keep, defeat him and destroy the staff he calls The Torch. Once you do that, the blades of the legion will be nothing but glass.”

  “Oh is that all?” Faedron’s sarcasm was only very thinly veiled.

  Pendar just laughed at him. “That is all, Fa
edron,” the sorcerer confirmed. He turned to me. “And now, little dragon, my task is complete and this world has no more need of me.” So saying he shoved Faedron in the chest catching the corporal completely off-guard. He snatched the crystal blade where it fell and before any of us could move he brought it down in the centre of his keeper’s chest, withdrawing it before it could incinerate the man.

  There was a loud click and the collar around Pendar’s neck began to close. The old man gave me a smile. “We all do what is needful, little dragon,” he croaked and then rolled from the couch as his throat was completed crushed and his neck broke.

  We sat in stunned silence for almost a quarter of a secta before Faedron finally broke the quiet. “Why would he do that?”

  “Death was preferable to enslavement I suppose,” Dthor said as he tied the last cord on Pendar’s makeshift shroud.

  “Could you not have freed him, Meriq?” Maegor asked as he helped Dthor life the old man onto a daybed made of straw bales.

  “Given time, Maegor, I probably would have found a way.” I glanced over to where the old mage was lying. “But I do not think that the removal of the collar was the freedom he was seeking.”

  We left the two corpses with the body-breakers. Pendar was to be cremated while his captor, Kaseem, was to be buried. On reflection this was mean-spirited instruction but I thought it fitting that he should be hidden form The God’s sight, his body left to rot in the ground and his soul to remain forever trapped in the earth. The symbolism of burying the man was wasted on none. Pendar had been my uncle by default and through his actions, Kaseem had cost me another, and for all I knew the last, member of my surrogate family. And whether or not the afterlife was a reality, depriving him of his means to enter The God’s presence through interment rather than cremation was the last act of justice I felt I could perform for the old sorcerer.

  When I left the body-breakers’ enclosure it was to be greeted by the Kyr-Garrin all mounted and at the ready. Vyrnath had been tacked up and plated and stood snorting and pounding the dirt with his hooves as if he scolded me for keeping him waiting to ride into action. Zorn and Clarix flanked my mount also sporting their battle-wear, their keen golden eyes watching my every move as I mounted.

  “The main part of the attack force is already underway, Meriq,” Dthor told me as he pulled up at my side.

  I nodded an acknowledgement, turning my attention to the upper city and castle where columns of smoke had begun to rise signalling the start of the kayetim assault. It would not be long now, if the strategy was successful, before we breached the citadel and I could go in search of the magician, Caerlon, and put an end to the pestilence he had brought upon us.

  We reached the main gates of the lower city just as the drawbridge slid into position and the gates swung open to reveal Orrin and his complete complement of assassins looking very pleased with themselves as they wove through the bodies that lay scattered around them.

  “There were a few more than anticipated, t’pahq, “Orrin told me, but nothing we could not deal with.

  “Clearly!” I answered. “Polo, signal the kings.”

  The blast from the boy’s bugle brought the main forces at a canter. The soldiers merged their columns with frightening efficiency to four abreast and entered the city with no perceptible lost of marching speed. Once through they began to peel away from each other, the Zetans taking the routes to the left their indigo and white uniforms giving the streets and alleyways the semblance of mountain cataracts as they flooded the thoroughfares. To the right the Morlans likewise filled road and wynd like a cleansing fire.

  The Kings and the Cavalry moved into the main avenue and heading towards the castle and its keep heedless of the fires that flared up around them as legionnaires and citizens alike tried to fight the fires with water. Markos leaned across and said something to Aldrigan before peeling off and riding to my side.

  “Respects, Ez’n,” he said with a slight bow and a formal salute. “Will you honour me by allowing me to ride with the Kyr-Garrin for this battle?

  “Should you not be with your army?” Dthor growled, clearly vexed by Markos’ action.

  “Perhaps, but I should like to fight this fight with friends rather than subjects.”

  “I would be glad to have you at my side, majesty.”

  My formal response did much to soothe the ruffled feelings of my consort, and soon both he and Markos had relaxed into easy chatter while I divided the White Guard, sending the main part of the force to follow and protect Janir, while the Elite crew would ride with me.

  The infantry wasted no time despatching the legionnaires and only once the enemy lay dead did they tell the civilians the secret of dousing the fires.

  The alliance forces moved steadily through the city clearing out the Black Legion street by street, building by building and square by square. And it was while we rode towards the sounds of the conflict, I became suddenly aware of the sound of mocking laughter. I stopped abruptly. There was something about the laughter that struck a chord in my mind and dragged up an unpleasant memory.

  I reined Vyrnath around, signalling Markos & the others. “This way.”

  We moved quickly down a narrow wynd working our way towards the laughing voices. The little alleyway opened suddenly into a small pretty square neatly trimmed with potted plants—clearly a residential area and not at all a place of particular military interest. As we broke the cover of the passage I pulled my mount to a stop and jumped from his back before he could lower himself for me. Markos drew level with me and let out a curse.

  Scarcely more than twenty cubits distant Balten and his “wolves” were engaged in gang raping a family of four while Korlaq and a group of his men stood by cheering the men on over the sounds of the screaming. As Balten finished with the man of the house he slashed the man’s throat tipping him from the trestle table before calling one of his men to bring the boy he was holding.

  As the man moved forward he slipped in a puddle of blood and lost his grip. The youth wasted no time and landed the soldier a hefty kick in the groin before bolting for the wynd.

  One of Korlaq’s Morlans gave chase grabbing at the boy’s tabard as he ran. The youth twisted free shedding his clothing before sprinting on in only his breech cloth. Letting out a curse the solder pulled a set of bolas from his belt and let fly catching the youth in the ankles and bringing him down a mere arm’s length from where I stood. The youth dragged himself forward and grabbed the hem of my cloak.

  “Mercy! Mercy Lord!” he cried rolling himself into a tight ball like a dog curling up at his master’s feet.

  Markos turned to his brother. “Take him down.”

  Kylos’ dart took the man in the throat with such force that it broke through the back of his neck. He was dead before he had time to realise it and crashed to the ground like a felled ox. I reached down pulling the youth upright and strode over to where Balten and his cohort stood dragging the youth with me. A gesture sent Balten and his men flying back from the trestle. Korlaq turned quickly his sudden movement causing Kylos’ poisoned arrow to miss him and strike the unfortunate hoplite behind him. The soldier fell with a brief choking cry, twitched for a moment or two and then lay still.

  I turned to Aenar. “Cut them loose. Stand down archer,” I said quickly as Kylos nocked another arrow and drew a bead on Korlaq.

  Markos stepped up to me. “Put him down, Ez’n—or I swear by Morgul I will do so myself.”

  “You will do no such thing, soldier. King or not, I command here, not you. Stand down.”

  I had scarcely finished speaking when Balten scrambled to his feet drawing his sword as he came. The blade shattered under my gaze even as it left the scabbard. The Crown Prince let out an agonised gasp as shrapnel from his sword pierced his cuirass. He stumbled forwards and would have fallen but for the fact that I seized him with my thoughts and dragged him towards me. I turned my attention to Markos and the others. “Go and gather up the mounts.” I told them.

&
nbsp; “T’pahq?” Markos looked mystified.

  “I will deal with this, Markos,” I said quietly, “now please do as I bid you. This is a delicate situation and not one to be subject to summary justice meted out by the White Guard. Deal with Korlaq and the others as you see fit when this fight is over.”

  “Will you be safe, my lord?” Aenar asked as he sheathed his sword.

  I turned my attention to Balten flexing my mind a little more and lifting the man off the ground. “Well, Crown Prince,” I demanded, “Answer the Provost’s question. If they leave me here, will I be safe?”

  “You will be safe, Ez’n,” Balten answered struggling slightly against the invisible hands that were holding him.

  “Do as I say now, Aenar.” I gave the Provost a reassuring nod. “You know I will defend myself if necessary.”

  As the men withdrew and busied themselves with the horses I released by hold on the prince. “What in Zoar’s name are you thinking, Balten?” I demanded shaking the quivering youth beside me at him as if the boy were a doll. “You should think yourself fortunate that it was I and not your father who witnessed this disgraceful betrayal.” I pushed the prince away from me with the force of my will. “Be certain, Crown Prince, that if you behave in this way again you will not find me so forgiving. Until the time is right I am King Janir’s man.”

  “And how long do you expect me to wait—Ez’n?” Balten demanded.

  “Until I tell you it is time,” I hissed. I turned to Korlaq. “And such life as you have left, general, you now owe to me. Break your king’s covenant again and I swear you will taste Bitter Sage and be swallowed up by The Darkness before you are a day older.”

  “I am not afraid of you or your magic, wizard,” Korlaq replied posturing,” any more than I am afraid of the dark, you little sack of slevyak. So do your worst.”

  I stalked over to the general. “There are things worse than death, Korlaq, and believe me, I know how to inflict them. And you may not be afraid of the dark, but if you want my counsel, general, sleep with one eye open and leave a lamp burning. Orrin will not come for you, but one of the others may. I am not in total control of either your Prince Royal or your new king.”