by Jason Kenyon
‘My enemy?’ Archimegadon repeated. ‘I’m a Mage for Hire! I don’t have enemies.’
‘All of Valanthas has enemies,’ Archimegashade said. ‘The enemies of Valanthas are your enemies, and they grow in power with each passing moment.’
‘That’s why I have to go back,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Otherwise Akarith will kill us and the Dusk Alliance will prevail.’ He paused. ‘Not that any of that matters to me, aside from saving myself of course.’
‘Of course.’
The shade floated down from the waterfall and stood before Archimegadon. Close up, Archimegadon was able to admire how impressive a figure he cut. Valanthas’s foremost mage indeed!
‘This is a pleasant place indeed,’ Archimegadon said, ‘but we are still wasting time. Send me back.’
‘No, there is more that must be said,’ the shade told him. ‘For a start, the Dusk Alliance are a distraction. They have been fooled, and their purpose served.’
‘What purpose?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘They just sold off magic items to the highest bidders.’
‘Yes, but they didn’t realise something crucial,’ the shade said. ‘Although there were many names, there was only one buyer. The thieves found everything this enemy needed. The Dusk Alliance has served its purpose.’
‘I think you talk a lot of balls,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Well, you’d be wrong, then, wouldn’t you?’ the shade said.
Archimegadon tried to strike the shade with the Staff of Antagules, but annoyingly it wasn’t there in any physical sense. ‘Clear off. I won’t tell you again.’
‘The Dusk Alliance is a powerful organisation,’ the shade said. ‘They do have the occasional dolt, but for the most part they are a formidable force. However, you must destroy them and move on to what must follow.’
‘And what must follow?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘You will see.’
‘I will s… now look, give me a proper explanation, you half-wit spirit fool!’ Archimegadon yelled, but already the air was shimmering and giving way to another scene, a darker scene. The Isles of Filikis disappeared…
*
…And Archimegadon was inside a small room with wooden walls that had apparently been put together with great haste, for half the nails were sticking out at angles and there were various holes, through which little daggers of light were stretching towards Archimegadon’s legs. As for the mage himself, he had apparently been stripped down to his underpants and a shirt, and his hands tied behind his back to a horizontal wooden pole. His feet had been tied to the pole too, and his efforts to free himself were naturally unsuccessful. He tried to cast a spell experimentally, but found himself unable to do so at all, and he suspected that the thieves had used some sort of anti-magic bindings.
‘Damn this nonsense,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ asked a female voice behind him.
‘Oh, it’s quite splendid,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Now, if you’d just let me down, we can sort out this misunderstanding and nobody will need to get hurt.’
The woman walked into view. Her clothes were non-descript, but she carried herself with a regal confidence and Archimegadon noticed that there were knives sheathed all over her. He only hoped that this was not who he thought it was. If it was, she was older than he had expected, although she did cut a fine figure all the same.
‘I have to cheer for you, my Mage for Hire friend,’ the woman said. ‘It is impressive indeed that you managed to elude the Breakers on your way to Melethas. Broadblade had an awful time explaining his failure, I can tell you.’
‘He’s been back here for a while then?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Straight after he escaped from Salien,’ the woman replied. ‘He didn’t waste time going to Melethas. No need to cross paths with Sen Delarian, eh?’
‘But you seem to have made that mistake with me,’ Archimegadon replied.
‘Ah yes, you are indeed an enemy to be feared,’ the woman said. She stepped up to Archimegadon and ran a finger lovingly over his throat. ‘A pig, hung up for slaughter. You don’t scare me, mage. I have killed hundreds of self-important fools like you. Magic or no, your guts look the same when I spread them across the floor.’ She smiled at him. ‘Now where was I? Oh yes, the matter of Broadblade. He was certainly an idiot to let himself be outwitted like that. He suffered for that infraction. It is lucky for him that he captured you for me.’
‘Indeed,’ Archimegadon said. ‘However, I can assure you that my delivery of the amulet was in no way an insult directed towards yourself. We are both people who understand the value of money in Valanthas. Let us keep that understanding.’
‘Shut up, old fool,’ the woman said. ‘Assassins are a much more noble breed than you and your mercenary brood. For one thing, successful assassins actually need skill to get by. Successful mercenaries and mages are thugs and wasters who got lucky.’
‘I will have you know that I myself have conquered a demon!’ Archimegadon said.
‘Would this be the creature known as the Shadow?’ the woman asked.
‘Indeed so.’
‘So I am informed, it was the knight named Mortimyr and his friends, the mages Gelenn and Terrill, who dispatched that.’ The woman smiled. ‘Although you are reported to have been on the scene in some small part.’
‘I killed it, I tell you!’ Archimegadon said. ‘If your spies were in any way competent, they would have told you this.’ He paused to think. ‘For that matter, why were you spying on the demon?’
‘Demons can trouble thieves too, master mage,’ the woman replied. ‘And they aren’t all that common, I can tell you. Someone is up to something around Gale and Horan, and we of the Dusk Alliance shall need to suppress such activity if we are to continue our operations.’
‘You’re worried about someone making demons, eh?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘Well, I am a Mage for Hire. Why not hire me to kill off whoever it is?’
‘Firstly, I don’t know who it is,’ the woman replied. ‘Secondly, you’re an idiot. I wouldn’t hire you to do my laundry.’
Archimegadon eyed her clothes and laughed. ‘I don’t imagine anyone does it, to look at you.’
‘What about your robes, master mage?’ the woman asked. ‘They were covered in some sort of dried-up black goo that really stank.’
The mage pursed his lips. ‘That was the fault of spiders. It was nothing at all to do with me. Besides, I intend to buy some splendid robes as soon as I reach Aldrack.’
‘Oh, planning ahead, are you?’ the woman asked. ‘You might want to consider your options closer at hand. Of course, I’m not really sure what your options are. Delarian has what we want – namely, the Staff of Vortagenses. You got rid of it. This leaves you in an awkward position.’
‘Um… and what would that be?’
‘Well, you thwarted me,’ the woman replied. ‘I am Akarith, leader of this merry bunch. And since you have beaten me, I believe my only option now is to take revenge for this crime.’
‘A thief is complaining about crimes?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Rude to the last, Archimegadon,’ Akarith replied. ‘And it may indeed be the last.’
Archimegadon paused in his retort to consider how things were now proceeding. This was indeed the woman he had been hired to kill, and not only was he in no position to kill her right now, but she was possibly about to kill him. Far from making two thousand relorans and a few bonus pickings along the way, he was possibly about to lose his life somewhat painfully. It was time to put his ingenuity to the test.
‘Ah… well… I could give you some information… if you like,’ Archimegadon said, thinking on the spot (and finding it quite hard).
‘Oh?’ Akarith asked with a smile. ‘Do tell.’
‘Well… it refers to my employer… Lord Bartell,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Since he did me over in a deal perhaps I need not be so loyal to him as he thinks.’
‘Did you over in a deal?’ Akarith asked.
‘He is going to pay you double in Aldrack, though,’ Akarith said.
‘How do you know that?’
‘I read the letter in your pocket,’ Akarith replied. ‘I was testing you.’
‘Ah. But do you really think he is going to pay me when I get there?’
‘I highly doubt it,’ Akarith replied. ‘The rich never like to part with money. Except when it can be used to kill off their rivals. I should know.’
‘Well, quite,’ Archimegadon said. ‘But I should warn you now… Bartell’s forces are already on the move. He has an army heading here right now.’
‘Oh, really? And I suppose I’d better get my forces moving far away.’
‘No, that wasn’t what I was going to suggest,’ Archimegadon said. As to what he was actually going to suggest, he didn’t know. In fact, he had no idea where this was going at all. But since he had started it, he decided to keep going. ‘Bartell is a bit angry with you. He has decided to lead as much of his standing army against you as he can muster. We are only a distraction, you see. A bungled effort to assassinate you while his actual forces move in to demolish you.’
Akarith’s eyes flickered. ‘You are lying, mage. Although, admittedly, it would take a real idiot to send you against me.’
Archimegadon mentally bowed his head to Neurion.
The assassin walked around the room a couple of times, spinning daggers idly in her hands. Suddenly she hurled them at the wall and they stuck in the centres of two knots of wood. ‘How many men, Archimegadon?’ she asked.
‘What?’ Archimegadon hadn’t quite been prepared for this reaction.
‘I asked you how many men he is sending!’ Akarith replied. ‘I want to know.’
‘Upwards of five hundred,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Upwards of a thousand, if he had any success with the King.’
‘The King?’ Akarith’s eyes darkened, and Archimegadon could no longer hold their gaze.
‘Yes, the King,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Bartell went to the King for help.’
‘He thinks we’re that much of a risk?’ Akarith laughed. ‘But the King… that changes things. That could be more than merely problematic. Archimegadon, you will remember every detail of this for me. Every last one, you hear me? In the meantime, I have some arranging to do.’
‘Of course, milady,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I shall recall everything I know.’
‘Well, that won’t take long,’ Akarith said, her smile a little unstable. ‘Is… is the King himself coming?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Archimegadon replied. Better not to push a lie too far.
‘Makes sense, old coward,’ Akarith said. ‘But if they were to deem me enough of a threat… bearing in mind what I tried before…’
‘Milady?’
‘Never you mind,’ Akarith replied. ‘You hang there and remember everything. I will return for you when everything is prepared. Make sure you know some good details, mage, or I may yet be unforgiving!’
‘Of course,’ Archimegadon said, bowing his head.
Akarith tugged the knives out of the wall and blew dust off them. She made a sound of irritation – perhaps the blades had scratched or blunted or something like that – and slipped out of the room, swinging the door shut behind her.
‘Milady my arse,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Just you wait until these accursed bindings are gone, milady. Then we’ll have a real debate, I assure you.’
It was very cold, Archimegadon suddenly realised. His fear had warmed him, but now the offending assassin had left he calmed down and the temperature dropped too. He could hear the vague sound of voices raised in command, and footfalls on unstable wooden floors surrounded him. Whether the base was usually this busy or whether this little lie had been quite successful Archimegadon did not know, but he felt a little amusement nonetheless. Thanks to him, Valia would probably have an easier time of it.
*
‘Bloody hell,’ Valia said under her breath, sitting by herself in the base’s tavern, which was a grotty little shack shoved under the cover of one of the mountains against which the base had been built. A multitude of unwashed thieves surrounded her, muttering in tongues or shouting, and all idiots. Much like Archimegadon, she was quite adept at finding hiding places for herself in plain sight in pubs and taverns.
Remaining unnoticed in crowds was rarely a problem for her, and at the moment it was no issue at all. Apparently, it seemed, an entire army was heading here, and the base had locked down. Guards were everywhere, and checks and double-checks had been implemented so that even going to the latrines required permission. All alcoholic drinks had been banned (drunk troops were no good to Akarith), and virtually all movement was being tracked at all times.
Whoever had sent that army on its way had really buggered Valia’s plan.
She only hoped that Archimegadon, Obdo and Neurion had not managed to foul things up on their end. Sitting in the forest and waiting for her was hardly a difficult task, though, but even those idiots could mess it up, she was sure. They would be waiting a long time, however; without the ability to do any searching, Valia was next to useless right now.
There was a loud noise at the bar, and Valia looked up. It was a red-bearded thug who looked more than a little annoyed. She smiled and leant back to enjoy the show.
‘I don’t believe this!’ the thug said. ‘You try doing what I did today without having a celebratory drink.’
‘You can still have a bloody drink, Broadblade,’ the barman said. ‘But it’ll have to be water, eh?’
Broadblade? Not Archimegadon’s notable mercenary friend? Valia sat back up and paid closer attention.
‘Water?’ Felick spat. ‘I’ll have you know I defeated, in single combat, a bloody mage, that I did! And by heaven, I’ll have my drink! Or I’ll have it by hell!’ He waved a dagger at the barman.
‘Hell is where we’ll both be if I serve you a drink, Broadblade,’ the barman said, apparently unfazed by Felick’s threat. ‘Akarith don’t take kindly to those who disobey her orders, eh? Now shut it.’
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ Felick poked the barman in the centre of his chest. ‘I beat a mage. A good mage. Maybe the best.’
‘Best my arse,’ the barman said.
‘Oh aye, he was,’ Felick said. ‘Arkermechadon, I tell you. Mage for bloody Hire! A dark, evil mercenary, I tell you.’
Valia went cold. Was Archimegadon dead? She didn’t like the man, but dead…
‘What did you do?’ the barman asked. ‘Bet you went an’ killed him while he was fighting some dragon, eh? Snuck up behind like a good coward.’
Felick scowled. ‘You watch your mouth, Prond. As long as you don’t serve real drinks, you can watch it. I took him down an’ brought him here. He’s probably chatting to our leader right now.’ Broadblade put a hand to his heart and bowed his head piously.
This was even worse! Archimegadon was probably, right now, telling Akarith that Valia was sneaking about right here in an effort to save his bony behind. Valia considered her options. She could continue this charade, in the hope that Archimegadon would do the right thing, or she could run away as quickly as possible. Which would be tough in itself, thanks to all the security that had slammed down on the base. She hoped that the security was nothing to do with Archimegadon. In any case, there was one option opening to her now.
‘So if this Arkamekidun is the best mage ever, how did you outwit him?’ Prond was asking.
‘I was able to dodge his spells, you see,’ Felick replied. ‘I’m the quickest bastard in the world.’
‘Not when it comes to thinking, eh?’ Prond asked.
‘Bah, you’re no good for telling stories to,’ Felick said, dismissing Prond with a wave of his hand. ‘Get me some bloody water and hurry up about it.’
‘Say… Broadblade?’ Valia called. He looked round, and she smiled
flirtatiously. ‘I’d looove to hear your story.’
Felick looked astounded, and then he grinned. ‘Ah, make that two beers.’ He frowned. ‘Two waters, barman,’ he amended with a scowl.
Chapter Fourteen: Preparing for War
Archimegadon was fed up of hanging here, in this uncomfortable position. Somehow he had managed to doze off again despite the fact that it was immensely unpleasant here, but his reawakening had brought back exactly how painful it was. Perhaps it had even made it worse, since the comfort of sleep was so close to mind.
Well, what mattered was that he wanted to get out as quickly as possible. Whether Akarith believed his little story or not was hardly very pertinent since the idiot assassin had not come back for ages. Maybe she had forgotten he was even there. If so, that would work in his favour. What he needed to do now was get himself out of these bindings and then find the Staff of Antagules – if it hadn’t already been sold to some greedy over-rich man or woman… or the supposed single buyer that the shade had warned him about.
First things first. The shackles round his wrists. With his hands free, he would have an easier time getting rid of the ropes round his feet. Theoretically. Archimegadon pulled down on the shackles to test whether there was any give at all, but his hands didn’t seem overly eager to let him slide them through the bindings.
Next he tried to somehow get the ropes to come off the wooden pole, but that was similarly hopeless. Perhaps it would be best to free his feet first, then. A few attempted kicks later, Archimegadon sighed and gave up.
For the first time ever Archimegadon wished that Neurion, Obdo or Valia would turn up. Not that they were very dependable, but then once upon a time he had known friends who were dependable… right up to that last day. Fleeting images of that icy wasteland, the spires of silver light to his back, shot through his head. The trail of wagons… the explosions from atop the great altar… and then that slight whistle. That familiar whistle.
‘Too busy playing the hero, Archie,’ Berus had said with the ghost of his old smile. ‘Just goes to show, eh? Finish the delivery for us, Archie. Please. So it wasn’t all for nothing…’