Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story

by James Maxstadt

  “Son-of-a…” she muttered. “It’s the same. Duke, all these rooms are exactly the same. We’re not climbing past more and more of them, we’re passing the same ones.”

  “No,” I said, “We’ve been climbing the stairs this whole time.”

  “Yeah, too far up at once. I should have felt it, but there’s probably a magic gate at the top of each one. It brings us right back here, to the first floor again. Come on.”

  This time, we did move faster, but we only took the stairs to the second floor, and when we passed the doorways, the torture chamber was gone, In its place, was pure temptation.

  On one side, beauties lounged in various stages of undress, looking at me with come-hither stares and beckoning me to enter; on the other, the equal measure of men, strong and well-defined, eyeing Lilly as if she was a piece of candy.

  The Death Knight should have done his homework. Lilly and I looked at each other, burst out laughing and moved on. Put a never ending tap of ale in one of the rooms and maybe I’d be tempted, but there wasn’t one of those visions that could compare to Lilly. Luckily, her eyesight wasn’t good, and she felt the same way about me.

  We climbed again, to the third floor this time, and now the hallway changed. There were no arched doorways leading away, but there were also no stairs at the end of it. There was, however, a large window, showing a night sky outside of the tower that we were in. The fog still clung to the floor and moved in wisps about our legs.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Lilly murmured.

  We were half way down the corridor when the rumbling noise started behind us. We turned, and saw the opening that led to the stairs closing up. The stones were moving of their own accord, much as when the Death Knight called this place into being, shutting off our escape.

  Lilly nodded. “Yep, now we’re making him nervous.”

  Then there was another noise from the other end of the corridor, and the window widened, becoming a doorway that led to a much longer hallway. The other end was far enough away that I could only barely make it out. And it was lined with door after wooden door, square and strapped with iron, like in a dungeon.

  “I think it’s going to get interesting now,” Lilly said. “Remember, you watch my back, but other than that, let me handle this.”

  “You got it,” I said, and hefted my head-knocker to show her that I was ready.

  As if that was a cue, the doors opened, and they stepped out. I didn’t know if the corpses in the torture chambers on the first floor were real or an illusion, but now we found the rest of the people from the buildings in the area. All of them changed much as Sarge was, only not quite as completely. Even with red, pulsing eyes, bulging muscles, and maniacal grins on their faces, they retained more of a semblance of their humanity. As one, they turned and looked at us, and then, with an ear-shattering howl, they came.

  From behind, I could see Lilly’s hair rise in a corona around her head, and the sparks popped and crackled among her fingers. Her eyes would be jet-black now, too. She gestured, and the first few possessed people dropped, and laid perfectly still.

  She moved again, walking forward, and the next in line flew back, crashing into several others, and landing in a heap, where they all struggled to get up, seemingly stuck together now as a mass.

  For the next few, she threw her hands wide apart, and they were suddenly themselves again, standing and blinking in the torchlight, unsure of where they were.

  “Here!” she yelled. “Get behind me! Now!”

  Even in their confusion they heeded the sound of her voice, and I would have too. It was full of command, and there would be no denying it. They ran forward, passing around her, and I directed them down the hall, toward where the stairway had been a few moments before.

  But there were several still left, and I knew that wielding magic was tiring.

  “Lilly,” I said, “let me take some of them.”

  “No, this is my fight, Duke!”

  “I know, I know. But you have bigger fish to fry. Let me take a few of these, then you can be ready for the Death Knight. I can’t beat him, but you can!”

  She sighed, and stepped aside, gesturing me on.

  I ran forward to the attack, knowing that I wouldn’t have long. I struck about me, getting in a few lucky blows here and there, and taking a few myself. Lilly watched as I fought, and if I looked like I was about to be overwhelmed, she’d deliver a spell that would clear the way for me, and give me a second or two to reset.

  I’ve often bragged that I’m a good fighter, and it’s something that I consider to be a fact and that I’m proud of. But I never fought like that before, and never wanted to again. I couldn’t use my gun, and even a sword would have been out of the question. Instead, I used a short piece of wood, and fought and fought to knock out people possessed of a strength and ferocity that normal folk didn’t have.

  By the time it was done, I was exhausted. My back was screaming at me, and I was panting and bleeding from a hundred nicks and scrapes. I’d knocked people out, broken bones and smashed teeth. When they were all down, Lilly cast one final spell, and they all, including the ones that she turned back to normal, fell into a deep sleep.

  “Are you alright?” she asked me.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I answered. “What about you?”

  In spite of the exhaustion and pain, I was glad we did it this way. As it was, Lilly cast a lot of magic during that battle, and she looked as tired as I felt.

  “I’m beat, to be honest. But we’re not done yet. Are you ready?”

  I nodded, hoping that I really was.

  We continued forward, to the end of the hallway, and the final door, made of black wood, that was still firmly shut.

  It was locked, and all of my attempts to open it, including kicking it, failed. Lilly stepped forward, chanting a spell and laid her hand in the middle of the door.

  The wood began to rot. From where she pressed her hand, it started to soften and slump. The rot ran out from there, slowly at first, but picking up speed. The door itself started to sag against its hinges as it lost its integrity, and soon was nothing more than a pile of rotten wood on the floor that we could easily step over.

  Beyond, was yet one more set of stairs, spiraling away overhead, with no end in sight.

  We looked at each other, already exhausted and shared a smile. If nothing else, the Death Knight could keep you guessing.

  The way up was long and arduous. We stopped several times and sat on the steps, one of us keeping an eye out below, and the other watching overhead, but nothing attacked us, or even showed itself. Finally, after what felt like weeks of walking, we came to the top.

  The stairs opened into a large chamber, high ceilinged and supported by dark stone arches. Large windows opened onto the night sky down the length of it, and the ever-present fog curled up the wall, and out, into the air.

  At the far end was a throne, made from bones, where the Death Knight sat, still fully encased in his black armor.

  “You have brought Griefmaker to me,” he boomed out. “How considerate. And you, necromancer. I see you have found your way back to the magic. For the moment.”

  “You’re done,” Lilly said, her voice matter of fact. “You never should have come here. I don’t know who you once were, or how you got this way, but your time is over.”

  The Death Knight laughed, that same evil, skin-crawling laugh that he used before.

  “Indeed, it is this city’s time that is over. I am only the beginning, and now that I am home, I will rebuild all of my works.”

  Lilly began walking forward, and the Death Knight stood and stepped down from his throne.

  “You challenged me once,” he said, “and lost then. Why would this be any different?”

  In answer, Lilly raised her arms, and called up her magic faster than I ever saw her do it. The same buzzing, invisible spell that she used before flew from her. Last time, it hit the Death Knight in the back, taking him by surprise, and barely
moved him. This time he was ready for it.

  He raised his hand, almost casually, and moved as if to swat her spell away like a bothersome fly. But the effect was entirely different. Even though I couldn’t see it, I could see the aftermath. The spell went straight anyway, and cut into his armor, opening a gash in his stomach. There was nothing underneath, except for complete and utter darkness.

  The Death Knight cursed, and fell back, stumbling against his throne.

  “Impossible,” I heard him mumble. Then, louder, “This will not stand! I am the master of death, and you are nothing!”

  “No,” Lilly said, “you are not the master of death. No one is. Death will not be denied, not by you, or anyone. At the most, it can be postponed. Yours has been, long enough!”

  He climbed back to his feet, and drew his sword, which was black like everything else about him. It seemed to suck in the light, and made the whole chamber appear dimmer. He swung it, and the darkness came out of it, in a solid wall, and sped toward us.

  Lilly stopped, swept her own arms in a circle and stood firmly, chanting. The blackness hit in front of her and parted, sweeping away on each side. The Death Knight continued to hold his sword, point straight up, and the blackness continued to pour from it. Lilly stood, her shield still strong, and her voice rose until she was screaming her incantation.

  It must have been taking a lot out of her, but she held firm.

  The Death Knight gave first. He faltered, his sword dipped, and the flow of darkness ceased. Lilly’s shoulders slumped and her voice lowered, the chant stopped.

  “You are finished,” she growled.

  She gestured again, and the fog began to bunch up, rising into small towers across the floor of the chamber. The towers turned, formed, and took on the vague appearance of people, with hollow faces and gaping mouths.

  “What is this?” the Death Knight said, sounding for the first time, unsure.

  “Death,” Lilly said. “It’s death come for you!”

  She screamed again, and I clasped my hands over my ears. The fog people rushed at the Death Knight, flowing over him. I saw them slide into the visor of his helmet, and into the gash that Lilly made in his stomach. They wormed into any seam, or crevice in his armor.

  And now he screamed. But where Lilly’s was full of rage and anger, his was of fear, and despair. The same feelings that he invoked in others were revisited on him a thousand-fold.

  The noise went on, and the Death Knight writhed and convulsed. Finally, it cut off sharply, there was a clatter, and his helm fell to the floor, empty and looking like a battered old helmet. Of the fog people, and the rest of his armor, there was no sign, and Lilly started to collapse.

  I caught her, of course. I told her that I had her back, and I meant it.

  The tower started to shake, so I grabbed Lilly, picked her up, and ran. Luckily, it was easier going down the stairs than it was going up. Plus, they didn’t seem nearly as long. I ran and jumped down them, trying to stay ahead of the tremors that were chasing me. I made it back to the long corridor, where the people we fought were awake.

  “Run!” I yelled as I sped by them, and they joined me. Some of those I had hurt were being helped by others.

  We made it, all of us, and watched as the keep started to disappear. It flowed back, down and in, until finally, the watchhouse stood there again, flanked by the buildings that were there before the Death Knight came.

  “Put me down, Duke,” Lilly whispered. “I’m okay.”

  I doubted that, but did as she wished, and she stayed on her feet, although she did lean against me. With the way I was feeling, I think I was leaning against her as much.

  “We did it,” she said, sounding surprised.

  “You did it,” I replied. “And you have to tell me how.”

  “Later. For now, I want to make sure Sarge is okay, and then go home and sleep.”

  I nodded, more than happy to agree with her. But as we left the scene, I noticed two strange things, which I didn’t mention.

  The birds that were circling the tower earlier were still there, flying high in the sky, staying in the same pattern they were in before.

  And there were two men watching us from across the street. They were dressed in black, although not like the Death Knight. One wore what looked like a wizard’s robes, while the other was dressed in black pants and shirt, finely cut. They didn’t appear to be menacing, but were definitely interested in what we were doing.

  Whatever it was about, it would wait. It had been a long few days, and Lilly was right. We needed to sleep.

  PRIDE AND PUNISHMENT

  Capital City doesn’t have many holidays. Or, maybe I should say that it has very few officially recognized ones. Really, there’s only the birthday of the current ruler, the date of which changes depending on when said current ruler was born. For that, people take the day off from work and celebrate, usually by eating like gluttons and drinking like fish. I think the day after should be a holiday too, since nothing really gets done as everyone nurses their hangovers.

  Then, there’s the rare occasion of a special event. Something like a child being born into the Royal House. That’s also cause for at least one, if not more, days of celebration. But that doesn’t happen very much, especially these days. The current ruler, His Majesty, had his daughters years ago now, and showed no signs of wanting others. And, from what I understood, he was also in excellent health, so there would be no change of date for the one official holiday any time soon.

  What could also qualify as a special event, as we were to find out, was the visit to the city of a powerful enough foreign dignitary. So, when it was announced that for the first time in centuries, an emissary from the Elven kingdom was coming, it was big news, and we all assumed that meant a couple of days of free-flowing drinks and platters of meat filled to the tipping point.

  “I don’t know why you think this is going to be such a big deal,” Lilly told me. I have to admit, I might have gotten a little excited when I mentioned it. The thought of free ale does that to me.

  “Because it’s huge!” I said. “The Elves are coming!”

  “I never took you for an Elf fanatic.”

  “I’m not! I could care less about them. But, Lilly…free ale! And lots of mutton!”

  “Like you need more ale. Or mutton for that matter. Come on, Duke, there’s still whoever’s been attacking the city to think about.”

  I was crushed, stricken a mortal blow by the lack of excitement on my beloved’s part. Well, maybe not that bad, but a little enthusiasm would have been cool.

  “Alright,” I said, sitting back down in my chair. It was evening, and Lilly and I finished dinner and were reading the newssheets by the fire. She defeated the Death Knight only yesterday, and we were taking a couple of days to recuperate from the ordeal. When you added on the fact that I also took a beating in Underworld only a couple of days before that, it was much needed.

  “Still,” I said, “you have to admit, it’ll be nice to have a day or two where we don’t have to do much.”

  “It would be. If I thought that would really happen. But I don’t.”

  “Why not? Do you think that another attack is coming that soon?”

  “I’m not convinced the last one is over yet,” she said. “What about those weird birds? You said they were still there after the Death Knight’s tower was gone. And those two guys who were watching us.”

  “The birds are strange, I admit that. But those guys didn’t act like they were a threat. More like they were spectators or something.”

  “Pfft. Spectators hanging around a Death Knight’s keep? I don’t think so.”

  I frowned. The fact was that Lilly was right, as she almost always was. Even after defeating the banshee, the pipers, and the Death Knight, we were no closer to knowing who was responsible for any of it. I didn’t think the Dokkalfar down in the Deep were an actual attack, just bad luck on the dwarves’ part.

  But still! Two days of ale flowing f
reely from every tap in the city, all paid for by His Majesty’s overfull coffers. I could sit on a bench at the Draugr’s Garden and quaff gigantic mugs of ale, or go to the Barman’s Choice and drink in a more refined atmosphere. Or…or…why, the possibilities were almost endless, and I think my eyes glazed over thinking about it.

  And then another thought hit me. What if the elves had ale? What if they brought some with them, as a cultural exchange kind of thing? I tried dwarven ale, and it was pretty tasty. Orc brew, not as much, but passable. Elven ale, though? Something told me that would be truly magical.

  I pulled it back together, went to the kitchen to get a mug of ale of my own and returned to my seat. Lilly must have noticed my face when I took a swig. It was good, but not elven good, I was pretty sure of that by this point.

  “What’s wrong with you tonight?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I answered, looking down into my mug as if I could will it to transform by merely wishing it. No luck.

  We settled back into the newssheets, but I couldn’t focus. Besides the upcoming visit, there was actually something else on my mind.

  “Lilly?” I finally said.

  “Mmm?”

  “How did you beat him? I mean, when you came back from being with the witches, you said you could, and you did. What changed?”

  She set the paper in her lap and looked into the fire, her brow furrowed a tiny bit.

  “It might be kind of hard to explain,” she said. “But I’ll try. Minerva, and some of the others, taught me a different way to look at it. The magic, I mean. Well, more my relationship with it. Before, I always kind of envisioned it as something that I wrestled with, forced to do what I wanted it to.”

  She stopped and looked at me.

  “But that’s not what they do. For them, everything is connected. They are connected to the magic, and the magic is connected to them. It doesn’t need to be forced, any more than your legs need to be forced to walk. You don’t think about it, you just do it. That’s what they do with their magic. Oh, it takes practice, but the more powerful ones, like Minerva? Duke, she is wickedly powerful. She can perform magic by simply thinking about it.”