by Tony Roberts
Leaving him to sink to the floor, dying, she swung around in time to meet yet another man’s blow. Her free hand clamped on his face and she sucked his life force out of him. He shook, struggled and tried to pull away but it was no good. He sank inertly at her feet. Replenished, Faer sent a huge ball of fire at two men coming for her and they were engulfed in flames.
Sherea stepped forward, enraged at the destruction of her unit. “Now, bitch, you die!”
She struck, and Faer deflected the blow up, planting her foot down hard. Her return blow went under Sherea’s guard and almost disembowelled her. The Captain gasped, clutched her stomach, and stared in horror at her enemy. She fell to the ground, eyes rolling up into her head.
Faer looked round. The cave was full of bodies. It stank of sweat and blood. Lace was groaning behind her, sat on the floor, trying to stem the flow of blood. Heller was to her other side, blood flowing down his face from a cut along his hairline. Nobody else was moving.
Theruddas slowly walked into the cave. “Well, now it’s down to me. I have twenty archers waiting back there, and I think I’ll have them use you as target practice. Won’t take long. But no, that’d spoil my fun. I doubt you have the strength to put up any resistance.”
Faer eyed him, weakness washing over her. “If I had the strength I’d kill you.”
Theruddas laughed. “Not even you can hold back my powers.” He raised his staff.
Heller grabbed Faer’s hand and placed it on his forehead. “Do it!”
Deep within Faer a laugh of triumph came to her and even before she made the decision, energy was flowing into her from Heller. Her dark elf alter ego had taken the decision. Faer felt strength and energy flow through her and she threw up a body shield around her and Heller, even as her body drank from him.
A roaring sound filled her senses and a blue light washed over her. It passed and her shield cracked and shattered, but it had done its job. Heller fell to the ground, exhausted, but Faer now faced Theruddas, a smile on her face. She dropped her sword. “Now, you amateur, you will know what it is to face a dark elf.”
Theruddas’ heart jumped. What was facing her wasn’t the girl anymore. Her eyes were different – slitted. Her facial expression was evil, predatory. What had happened? In haste he waved his hand above the orb on his staff and sent a holding spell at her.
With a contemptuous swipe Faer clawed it aside. Theruddas could even see the green tendrils of smoke where his spell had been destroyed. She stepped over the piles of bodies, hissing. “Fool, you have forfeited your life!”
Theruddas grasped his staff in both hands and shouted a kill spell. It had never failed him. He saw it impact on her chest in a splash of red, and it faded in a cloud of smoke. He gasped.
Faer now gathered her strength. This was going to be the final act. With a scream of rage and triumph, she poured every last iota of energy from deep within and sent it into the orb. The device took the force of her attack and exploded, sending the staff hurtling out of a stunned Theruddas’ hands. She didn’t give her opponent a moment to recover. With a snarl she was on him, clamping her hand to his face, drawing out his life essence.
Theruddas tried to tear her hand away but his strength was sucked out of him like warm air out of an open doorway on a winter’s night and his knees gave out. Faer stood over him, feeling her limbs reawaken with new energy, her hand still pressed to his forehead. “Now,” she hissed, still under her dark elf influence, “you will see the true power of my race, and know what it is you fear.”
Heller got onto his hands and knees and watched in helpless fascination as she placed both hands to the unfortunate Theruddas’ face, and closed her eyes. She emitted an unearthly cry and began uttering some incomprehensible words to his ears. Theruddas shook, his eyes going wide, totally helpless in her hands. It seemed to Heller that everything was being sucked out of the magic-user’s being, devoured by the girl, and the victim’s mouth opened, hoping to emit a last long scream, but he had no strength left.
With a final jerk she threw her arms wide and the shrivelled remains of what was once Theruddas struck the floor lifelessly. He wasn’t a man anymore – he was a shrunken corpse. She stood over him for a long time, gazing down at him, then slowly turned. Heller was by now strong enough to stagger to his feet, but he felt sick and unable to move aside as she strode up to him.
She looked into his eyes and he felt as if his very soul was being examined. Then she put her palm to his face and closed her eyes. Where she had drawn out life from Theruddas, she now reversed it, forcing her arm to channel the energy through her veins and fingers and into the soldier.
Heller felt strength return and his eyes widened. Suddenly the sick feeling had gone. She stepped back and allowed her arm to fall to her side. She had done enough to make him function without fully replenishing him. That would come in a short while. She looked at Lace who was regarding both with pain-wacked eyes.
“I think we ought to see to your wound,” she said.
Heller grunted and sank down to tend to his commander’s injuries. The middle door opened and in the doorway stood a youth of about eleven to twelve years of age. Faer regarded him for a moment, the smooth-cheeked face, the wide, intelligent eyes, the slim build, the shoulder-length brown hair. He carried with him an air of majesty, a calm, unruffled manner that Faer immediately knew to be that of a prince.
He is not superior to us came a voice within. Faer smiled thinly. He was a prince without a kingdom; she a princess without one, either. The difference however was that he could speak of it, whereas she could not. With her other self protesting, Faer bowed.
Heller stood awkwardly, then bowed himself. His hands were bloody, his face smeared with red, his hair matted with sweat. “Your majesty,” he said. “May I present Dark Blade, a half elf mercenary who has assisted us in defeating the enemy force?”
Faer gave the soldier a grateful smile, then bowed again to the prince.
“A bloody mercenary,” the youth observed. “And not a native to my lands, if the colour of your skin is an indicator. You are from another land?”
Faer smiled faintly. “Sire I am from Gorradan, but my parents were not. Neither are with me anymore.”
The prince considered her for a moment. “And you fight for my cause? You fight for the true lineage for your kingdom?”
Faer inclined her head.
“A mercenary, you said?” he said to Heller. “Yet one prepared to fight for a belief other than money? Or are you being paid, Miss Blade?”
“No sire, I am not. My original mission was for Jerethal, to find you, but they deceived me; I was led to believe you were the heir of Jerethal, being held by rebels. My price was the freedom of Captain Lace.”
They all looked at the seated army officer, clutching a bloodied shoulder. Heller resumed his dressing of the injury.
The chamber was beginning to reek of blood and death. The prince beckoned to the three to join him in his room. Faer waved to the tunnel. “What of the twenty soldiers still out there? They are archers in the royalist army. They are awaiting orders from their dead leaders.”
Heller grunted as he got to his feet. “I think we should deal with them. They’ll come looking for us if nobody goes to them soon.”
The prince nodded. “I shall speak with them.”
Heller protested but the young heir insisted, and led both Heller and Faer out along the tunnel, leaving Lace to sit alone with the dead. They emerged onto the walkway and instantly the archers all assumed an aggressive posture, aiming their weapons at the three. With Heller leading, and Faer at the back, they walked along the path, down the steps and came to the bridge. Two archers were there, and they aimed straight at Heller. “Stop! No further or you die!”
“Calm,” the youth said, hand upraised. “Your leaders and comrades are all dead. I now command you.”
“And who are you?” The speaker was a rough-looking, thickset man with professional soldier written all over him.
; “I am Prince Sethen of Gorradan. I am the true heir to the throne.”
The archer sergeant sucked in his breath and stepped to one side, ready to loose. Faer went to step before the prince but the boy shook his head. He calmly walked out, leaving Heller and Faer standing together.
Sethen walked towards the two men, arms wide. “If you truly wish to kill me, go ahead. I am a boy now, but one day I shall be a king, and a king who will reward those who are loyal to me. I am unarmed.” He stopped a mere arm’s length from the archer. “You can follow the orders of your dead commander, or join me in my rightful fight for the throne.”
The sergeant licked his lips, and looked from the boy to the two stood behind him, then to his companion. Slowly he lowered his bow. “Sergeant Makalis and the elite archers of Gorradan reporting, sire.”
Sethen smiled. “Welcome. We are a small force, yet I feel we shall be triumphant. I know many or the promises made by the usurper Jerethal have not been kept, and he is proving to be an unpopular ruler. I shall take the throne from him and return the days of happiness to Gorradan.”
The archers all came across to kneel before Sethen, and Heller turned to Faer and smiled. “He’s got plenty of guts.”
“Courage yes, but we need more than that to defeat Jerethal.”
Later, when the dead had been dragged to the chasm and thrown down it, Lace dressed comfortably and laid in a comfortable bed in the office, and the prince had retired to sleep, Heller came wearily to Faer. She was stood at the tunnel entrance, one hand to her mouth, playing with her lips thoughtfully. She was staring into the darkness, a faraway look to her eyes.
“You must be tired,” Heller said.
She looked round. “Oh, it’s you. Yes, I suppose so. And you, too. What of Makalis and his men?”
“They are comfortable. Two on guard back there, three more up there,” he nodded towards the upper entrance, the rest sleeping. Captain Lace will be alright but he’ll take time to recover. In the meantime I’m temporarily in command.”
“Don’t expect a salute from me,” she said.
“I wouldn’t expect one.” He stood awkwardly for a moment. “I think I owe you an apology,” he said slowly.
Faer looked up at him. “Why the change of heart?”
“Today finally showed me you’re on our side – I always thought you were one of Sherea’s creatures, like that piece of work Via.”
Faer looked back at the bridge. “You fought well, and bravely. Often with a lot of hot air, a blustering man tends to be hopeless at combat, but you proved that wrong.”
“Blustering?”
Faer grinned and shrugged. “Getting some of my own back.”
Heller grunted. “Don’t make a habit of it. You also scared me with what you did to Theruddas.”
“I scared me,” Faer admitted. “I had no idea I could do that. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.” She looked at her hands. “I honestly don’t know the extent of my abilities; there’s more, I feel it, but I don’t know what else. It usually comes to me unbidden in times of stress.” She folded her arms defensively. “I’m part dark elf, a race versed in dark arts and deeds. You yourself said you don’t like them, and you probably have good reason not to.” She looked up at him. “I can summon my dark elf side at will, and she’s not someone to cross.”
“So I understand. You don’t look capable of what you do.”
Faer nodded. “I’m often underestimated.” She yawned. “Time for bed. If I have one. Don’t know with all those men back there.”
“There’s a bed for you in the office. Captain Lace insisted you had one made.”
“Oh, he’s such a good man.”
They both turned to walk back and collided as they went to go into the tunnel. They exchanged a look of surprise, then amusement. Both indicated the other to go first. They each took a step forward and bumped again. She was pressed against him and looked up into his amused eyes. The next thing they were kissing. Ardently.
Her arms came up around his neck, and his ran down her sides and across her back. Faer felt a release of a painful block in her heart, the breaking of a wall holding in her pent-up feelings. Suddenly she was weeping and holding onto him for dear life. Confused, he held her to him and looked down at her dark hair, then stroked it softly.
For a few moments she released her frustrations, then they ebbed away and she sniffed. “Thank you,” she said in a tight, husky voice. “I needed that.” She looked up, her face wet. “Not such a tough girl now, am I?”
Heller grinned. “Oh yes you are. The toughest I’ve met. Not someone I’d want to take on.” He squeezed her for a moment. “But that doesn’t mean you’ve no feelings. I’m surprised you haven’t done this before – what you’ve gone through would make most go mad.”
“I’ll sleep better tonight, thank you, now I’ve got that out of my system.” She looked at his expression. “Oh, no, not that – not tonight, not here! Far too many people.”
Heller ran his hands over her bottom, enjoying the feel of them through her trousers. “That doesn’t sound like a final no, though.”
She smiled. “Maybe another night, if things turn out well. For now, you and I will just have to admire one another.” She kissed him again and pulled free, walking ahead down the tunnel. She turned. “Sleep well. I think we need to plan for the future tomorrow.”
“You and I, or the kingdom?”
Faer continued on her way, chuckling. Heller smiled ruefully, rubbed his chin, then set off in her wake, his mind trying to turn from her to the kingdom, not an easy task. Faer, meanwhile, entered the quiet room where Lace was resting and softly closed the stout wooden door. A bed of blankets lay on the floor and she slipped into them. It had been an exhausting day and she still had to come to terms with what she had done to Theruddas. It hadn’t been pleasant, but she had allowed her other self free-reign at that moment. What else was she capable of?
She lay under the blankets, staring up at the rock ceiling. It was an unsettling experience, sucking the very life out of someone. There was something else, too, something she had not mentioned to Heller or anyone else. In the process of taking everything Theruddas had been, she had also taken his memories and knowledge. Or, rather, for a brief time. Much of it had faded and gone, but vestiges remained, those things she had concentrated on. She knew he had been an ambitious and scheming man, totally without scruples and firmly dedicated to furthering his own career and position. The few moments she had broken into his mind she had seen everything he had been, and she was glad he was no more. He and Capel had been the true power behind the revolt, promising the people everything, stealing from the royal treasury to smooth the way and to hinder the efforts of the authorities to stop them.
Jerethal was a distant cousin of the king and therefore eligible provided no other issue remained, but Sethen meant that Jerethal’s place was illegal and if it became known the boy was still alive, then it was likely an uprising would take place. Capel had announced all issue of the late king had died so that statement was provable to be a lie. No wonder Capel had wanted Sethen found and eliminated.
Faer wondered what would have happened if she had in fact carried out his nasty little plan. No doubt Sethen would have been quietly disposed of and Faer too. She wanted Capel eliminated, and then perhaps Gorradan would be returned to something like the settled land it had been. One thing she kept in her mind from Theruddas – he and Capel had stolen much from the treasury and had it hoarded under the palace in the dungeons.
The new day arrived with Lace coughing and groaning, and Faer quickly was by his side, tending him. A cup of water stood by the bedside and she put it to his lips, holding his head up so he could drink. He nodded gratefully and she put it back.
“How are things?” he asked weakly.
Faer brought him up to date. “We’re to decide this morning what to do next. We can’t stay here with no supplies to speak of. Are you up to moving?”
“Yes,” he said with certa
inty, and swung his legs out of the bed. He nearly fell over as waves of weakness and pain coursed through him. “Once I have some food inside me,” he corrected himself.
With Faer’s help he got to the table and sat heavily there. She went out to tell Heller the captain was up. Heller greeted her with a smile. “Slept well?”
“Some, not great. You?”
“Like a log.”
Faer had never seen a log sleeping but she guessed what he meant. She led Heller into the office and the two men talked for a while. Prince Sethen came in as did sergeant Makalis. Some bread and water was found and the five ate a simple breakfast. Lace noted Faer and Heller were helping one another with their bread and raised an eyebrow as an unasked question at his lieutenant.
Heller caught the gesture. He shrugged. “We’ve made up.”
Lace looked at Faer for confirmation, and she nodded. “Fighting alongside each other gave us mutual respect. He’s not so bad.”
Lace smiled faintly. “So you’ve finally fallen under her spell,” he said to Heller.
“Dark elf magic,” Heller admitted. “Totally unfair of course.”
Faer grinned. “I promise I never used any magic. Tried to drain his mind once but found nothing there. Ow!” She rubbed a sore arm after Heller had hit her playfully.
“Still can’t do anything about that mouth,” Heller said. “Unless you’ve got a magic gag to shut her up.”
Prince Sethen found it amusing, but had to broach the subject of what to do next. “We have twenty-four. Not a big army to take on Jerethal and Capel. I was hoping for more support by now, Captain,” he said to Lace. “Where are the others?”
Lace grimaced. He felt so weak. “Sire, the populace hasn’t yet been through a long enough period to rise up, even though conditions are bad. The good Sergeant here has brought news of food shortages, higher taxation and little protection against brigandage in the villages. This is leading to unrest, but until someone rallies these various groups, nothing serious will challenge the usurper.”