by Jason Kenyon
‘Shut up, Berus,’ Archimegadon said, and the images disappeared.
‘Talking to yourself, mage?’ Akarith asked, sliding into the room, and Archimegadon flinched as though she’d slapped him. ‘Has this imprisonment been that hard on you? Usually takes a bit more than that to drive our detainees mad. But then, you were already most of the way there.’
‘I was singing,’ Archimegadon lied.
‘Tuneful as a dead rat,’ Akarith said. ‘Speaking of which, you might resemble one in more than just singing voice if you don’t give me answers that I like.’
‘Fire away, milady,’ Archimegadon said.
‘I won’t bother with the obvious threat there,’ Akarith said. ‘Even so, remember that your life is most certainly in peril right now. Why has Bartell decided to move against us?’
‘You don’t know?’ Archimegadon asked with a frown. ‘Your magical items caused a fair bit of havoc in Aldrack.’
‘One item,’ Akarith said. ‘A pub was damaged. The man in question was found to be a guard from Castle Aldrack, apparently mad enough to buy said item with the only money he had left. Executed soon after. Problem solved.’
‘There’s been more trouble than that,’ Archimegadon said, his voice a tad weak as he remembered Akarith tended to keep herself well-informed.
‘No, there hasn’t,’ Akarith said. ‘I have people everywhere telling me everything, mage. If you aren’t lying, I suggest that you spit out whatever unpleasant knowledge you are hiding.’
‘Ah… well, it is a little embarrassing,’ Archimegadon said, wondering if perhaps somebody might come and rescue him at this opportune moment. He glared at the door but it refused to open and let his saviour through.
‘What is embarrassing?’ Akarith asked.
‘Oh… well…’ Archimegadon let out a long sigh, as though he was very unwilling to let this information go. In the meantime, he tried to think of a suitable lie that would hoodwink this stupid assassin.
‘Well what?’ Akarith asked. ‘By the heavens, mage, if you were any slower I would come back next week to hear your answer, if you would even have it ready by then.’
‘What?’ Archimegadon realised that he might have overstepped a touch. ‘Oh no, milady, it’s just… even despite telling you what I have… to break this bond of trust…’
‘Tell me.’
‘Well, it turns out Lord Bartell himself bought one of your items,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Bartell wouldn’t have the wits,’ Akarith said. ‘He’s a swordsman, not a thief. He plays by the rules.’
‘Well, he couldn’t play by the rules in the bedroom, if you understand,’ Archimegadon said with a wink. Silently he cursed this whole stupid act and wished some great lightning strike would blast Akarith on the spot.
‘Wouldn’t surprise me,’ Akarith said with a shrug, although there was a glimmer of amusement.
‘Put it this way… he thought one of the items could… you know… augment something,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Increase his…’ He froze at the look on Akarith’s face. ‘You know what I mean. Right. Well, it didn’t. So I hear, it kind of… removed it.’
Now Akarith really did laugh. ‘You’re joking?’
‘Sadly, no,’ Archimegadon replied with another sigh. ‘He wanted to get an heir, but instead he lost his… you know.’
‘So well-spoken, mage,’ Akarith said. ‘I lost him his favourite toy and he wants revenge. How sweet. How delicious, too.’ She ran a finger across her lips. ‘How I would love to meet up with him now.’
‘He might try to kill you,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Bartell may have been a hero once,’ Akarith said, ‘but he’s a fifty-year-old slob these days. Besides, I’ve always bested swordsmen.’ She threw a dagger up in the air and caught it. ‘Well, that’s question one answered. Now for question two.’
Archimegadon’s curse, had it been spoken rather than thought, would probably have shaken the Dusk Alliance base to the point of collapse.
‘Now, what I need to know next is when the attack will take place.’
‘What day is it?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘The fifth.’
Archimegadon thought things over. On the one hand, he wanted to be out of here quickly, so he needed to tell her that it was happening soon to give himself the cover needed to run for it. Then again, this flaw-filled plan needed some thinking over. He decided to hedge his bets.
‘It will happen on the seventh,’ Archimegadon said.
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘A day is a long time, mage,’ Akarith replied. ‘As you should know, hanging there so pleasantly.’
‘I do indeed know,’ Archimegadon said, a trace of irritation forcing its way through.
‘Are they going to attack at night?’ Akarith asked.
Night would be the most useful time for an escape, but other than that hopeless for a supposed military campaign in most cases. ‘No, not at all. They know that night is an assassin’s favourite time of day.’
Akarith smiled. ‘Sad but true.’
‘They want to attack at dawn… from the east,’ Archimegadon said.
‘The east?’ Akarith asked. ‘Why there? Aldrack is south, for a start.’
‘Because then the light will be at their backs.’
Akarith slapped her forehead. ‘Oh, of course. Silly me. Well, well, isn’t this fun? All this bother just for me.’
‘And your friends,’ Archimegadon added, trying to gesture around with his arms to indicate the entire base. Then, after his arms jarred and refused to move in the slightest, he recalled his predicament and attempted the same gesture with his eyes.
‘It’s a shame, really,’ Akarith said. ‘I wanted to cause more trouble than just unmanning Bartell. I wanted Valanthas to really feel how angry I am.’
‘You don’t really… look all that angry,’ Archimegadon said.
‘We’re trained to lie with our faces,’ Akarith said.
‘I don’t understand, though,’ Archimegadon said. ‘The King eluded you… but you’re still the best assassin in the kingdom. Why would it matter that the biggest target of all managed to escape?’
‘Because my employers killed my sister when I failed,’ Akarith replied, and now she did look angry. Her eyes, in particular, became so icy that Archimegadon could no longer meet their gaze. Perhaps because that gaze had once stared out of his own eyes, back then.
‘I see,’ Archimegadon said. Because he did. A truth in the midst of all this deception.
‘You have any brothers or sisters, mage?’ Akarith asked.
‘None,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Never did, never will.’
‘Better that way,’ Akarith said. ‘Mercenaries cannot afford to get attached. Assassins, thieves, Mages for Hire… it’s the same whatever you are.’ She stared at the wall for a few seconds. ‘How did Bartell get the King involved?’
‘He told the King that he had foiled one of your plots,’ Archimegadon replied, speaking, as ever, on the spur of the moment. ‘Well… he said that you had disguised a deadly magical orb as a present for the King, and that he had managed to stop the gift from reaching its destination.’ Archimegadon thought for a moment before plunging on. ‘He wanted to make a fool of you.’
‘Oh, did he now?’ Akarith asked. Creases were breaking out across her face as her frown became deeper and deeper. ‘Well, I think I will indeed have a few surprises ready for our friend Bartell, mm? Then we will see who is the fool. And perhaps, after that…’ She laughed. ‘Look at me. Planning to take on the King himself. Madness.’
‘Maybe not,’ Archimegadon said. ‘You certainly seem to be organised.’
‘You would know, I suppose,’ Akarith said, eying Archimegadon’s bindings. ‘Still… that old fool…’
There was silence for several seconds. Archimegadon spent that time trying to work out whether the assassin actually believed him, or whether she was toying with him out of malice.
‘
Is that the end of this questioning?’ Archimegadon asked after he grew tired of waiting.
‘Perhaps,’ Akarith replied, looking a little distracted. ‘Hmm. I cannot think of anything else to ask you. You answered well today, mage. Keep it up and you may yet live.’
‘Thank you,’ Archimegadon said. He couldn’t really think of anything else.
Akarith left the room as silently as she had entered it. The Mage for Hire glared after her and went back to looking for a way to free himself.
*
‘Now, there was this one time that I caught a really, really big fish,’ Obdo said. ‘It had something like six fins, it was so big.’
‘Please be quiet, Obdo,’ Neurion said. ‘I don’t care how many fins it had. I just need silence.’
Archimegadon’s former companions were sitting in cells next to each other in some grim dungeon that the Dusk Alliance had specially prepared for them. They were surrounded on three sides by bars, and a dripping, mossy stone wall on the fourth. For the last day or so Obdo, unable to be cowed even by this situation, had decided to regale Neurion with his fishing tales. Neurion, as a polite paladin, had lent a willing ear out of courtesy. Unfortunately, Obdo’s tales never seemed to end… and they weren’t very interesting.
‘Oh, come on,’ Obdo said. ‘Six fins! It’s amazing.’
‘No, it’s boring,’ Neurion said. ‘Where is Master Archimegadon? He could get us out of here in a second.’
‘I’m sure he could,’ Obdo said. ‘As I have said every other time you said that. And, just like the other times you said that, I doubt he will be coming to rescue us. He’s a coward, that old mage. If an army was to appear, then fine. He’d be right in the front row yelling blue murder and firing off a few flamebolts in his usual manner. Our cell doors would be torn open and he’d say something like “Aha, saved by the great Archimegadon! Be grateful, knaves!”’ Obdo poked at some moss that had grown in the shape of a fish on the wall. ‘But if there isn’t an army he’ll be off to Aldrack saying something like “Bah, I warned those fools!”’
‘And if he hasn’t escaped?’
‘Then he’ll be in some cell complaining that the furnishings do not befit such a great mage as he,’ Obdo replied.
‘You really don’t like him, do you?’ Neurion asked.
‘It’s not that I don’t like him,’ Obdo replied. ‘But Archimegadon is Archimegadon. He isn’t a person, you see. He’s this great big glowing blob of cowardly ego that leaves a trail of ruin behind it.’
‘I don’t follow you,’ Neurion said.
‘You never usually do,’ Obdo said. ‘No need to change now, eh?’
‘We need to escape.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘Do you think the Dusk Alliance will let us go after a bit?’
‘I don’t think that’s how they run things, Sir Rusty.’
Neurion sat back as though he was sulking. Obdo hoped that the paladin was instead thinking deeply about their problem instead of throwing a childish tantrum. Sadly for the farmhand, sulking was indeed what Neurion was doing.
‘Say, Sir Rusty,’ Obdo said after a bit. ‘You know your Spell of Holy Fury?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you know any other spells?’
‘Oh, right.’
The paladin got to his feet and stretched. He paced around the cell, looking through the bars on three sides and at the stone wall on the last side. All the while he seemed to be muttering something. Obdo wasn’t quite sure what Neurion was up to.
‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that,’ Obdo said.
Neurion responded by raising his right hand and letting a bright glow fill it. Despite his cynicism about the paladin, Obdo was still mildly impressed by this. Even so, a little light was worthless against the threat of an army of thieves putting them to death for trespassing.
‘And what is that?’ Obdo asked.
‘This, necromancer, is Light,’ Neurion replied.
‘Well observed. Uh… anything unusual about it?’
Neurion stared at it. ‘It’s the Pure Light… able to purify anything it touches.’ He frowned. ‘Well, at my level of training it isn’t all that effective, but…’
‘So you’re going to clean us out of jail?’ Obdo asked.
‘Perhaps the purifying light can cure the thieves of their malady,’ Neurion replied.
Obdo looked to either side. ‘Um… you want to try cleaning them with that? They’d sort of kill you if you even tried to go in their direction with that thing. It was a nice idea, you know, but… well, it was rubbish. Put it away and think of something else.’
‘All I’d have to do is shake their hand,’ Neurion said. ‘I could cure any diseases they have… that sort of thing.’
‘Could work, I guess,’ Obdo said.
Neurion froze. ‘Wait. What was that? Did you sense it?’
‘No,’ Obdo replied. ‘Sense what?’
The paladin held the Pure Light aloft, and suddenly the air in front of him darkened until it took on the shape of Mesellanillian, the mad old sorcerer. Obdo let out a cry and scrabbled away from Neurion’s cell.
‘Sorcerer,’ Neurion said. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Aha, you got me,’ Mesellanillian said. ‘Just having a little nose around, young one.’
‘That’s a bit of a worrying trick,’ Obdo said. ‘Just how much could you spy on doing that?’
‘Sadly, nothing,’ Mesellanillian said. ‘You see, when I do that little trick I can’t see… I can only smell. Like a dog, you know.’
‘I know,’ Obdo said.
‘It’s a nice little thing that allows me to move about in a kind of spirit form. You two wouldn’t understand. Anyway, I have to sacrifice my sight to do it, you see.’
‘Wonderful,’ Obdo said. ‘Now that you’re done spying on us, could you explain what exactly you are doing in our prison cells?’
‘Ooh, yes,’ Mesellanillian replied. ‘I have a little score to settle, chaps. With your noble leader. Trouble is, I can’t find the wily bastard here. You don’t know either, I gather.’
‘You can still hear when you’re in that spirit form, then?’ Obdo asked.
‘That’s right, farm boy,’ Mesellanillian replied. ‘Forgot to say. Ooh, I want done with the Dusk Alliance fellows too. They’re starting to annoy me a lot. So I thought I’d pop over and see if I can convince them to move.’
‘You aren’t going to lay a finger on Master Archimegadon,’ Neurion said.
‘Oh, but I am,’ Mesellanillian said. ‘The finger of death.’
Obdo and Neurion glanced at each other.
‘Don’t look like that,’ Mesellanillian said. ‘I mean it. You think I couldn’t just kill you both here and now?’
‘I think you’d have trouble, Mr Mushroom,’ Obdo replied. ‘Neurion here is a master in the holy arts. Show him, Neurion.’
‘Oooh,’ Neurion said. ‘Which spell should I do?’
‘Well, I don’t know,’ Obdo replied. ‘Shake his hand or something.’
Mesellanillian glared at the two of them. ‘I’m right here, you know. You don’t have to talk over my head.’
‘Accept my apologies,’ Neurion said, offering his hand.
The sorcerer skipped away from it, towards Obdo’s cell. ‘Oh no. I just heard you say that was part of your plan. How stupid do you think I am?’
Obdo grabbed the sorcerer through the bars and held him fast around the neck. ‘Stupid enough to get in my range, old man. Now then, about killing poor old Sir Mage.’
‘You mean Archimegadon?’ Mesellanillian asked, his voice a little strained.
‘That’s the one,’ Obdo replied. ‘He’s our companion, regrettably, and I wouldn’t be too happy with you endangering his life in any way. Understand?’
‘No,’ Mesellanillian replied. ‘The mage is a fool. Why you would want to save him I don’t know.’
‘Nor do I, but there you are,’ Obdo said. ‘If you promise not to kill him, I’ll let
you go. Then we can bargain about getting us out of these cells.’
‘I only meant it as a joke,’ Mesellanillian said. ‘Yeesh. I won’t kill the old fool, alright? Now let go of my neck before it snaps, farm boy.’
Obdo did not. ‘Neurion… show him what might happen if he doesn’t keep his end of the bargain.’
Neurion summoned the Pure Light and grabbed Mesellanillian’s hand. The sorcerer let out a yell for several seconds before stopping suddenly and giving Neurion a suspicious look. The paladin released his hand, and Mesellanillian investigated.
‘Good heavens, you cleaned it up a treat!’ Mesellanillian said. ‘I could never get that blood stain out, but now look!’ He held up his hand so Obdo could see. ‘Beautiful. Just beautiful. That’s a real skill you have there, boy.’
‘Nice one, Sir Rusty,’ Obdo said with a sigh. ‘Try threatening him next time.’
‘I thought it would purify his dark heart,’ Neurion said, looking confused as ever.
‘You washed his hand for the first time in a thousand years,’ Obdo said. ‘Good job.’
‘Never mind him,’ Mesellanillian said to Neurion. ‘You did good, boy. Tell you what. If you could clean up my face I’ll get you free of these cells. My treat.’
‘How is it your treat if we have to do something in return?’ Obdo asked.
‘Well… never mind that,’ Mesellanillian replied. ‘The important thing is the bargain. I’ll be a hit with the ladies all over again. What do you say?’
‘Firstly, can you even open these cells?’ Obdo asked.
‘Let me go and I’ll show you,’ Mesellanillian replied.
‘If I let you go you’ll run for it,’ Obdo said.
‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’
‘Nothing risked, nothing lost,’ Obdo said.
‘I hate you, farm boy,’ Mesellanillian said.
‘Good,’ Obdo said. ‘Open my cell first, then Neurion will cast that spell on your face.’
‘As you wish, farm boy,’ Mesellanillian said. ‘But you’ll still have to let go. I can’t cast spells like this.’
‘Is that so?’
‘For a start, I would have gone invisible and slipped away ages ago if I could,’ Mesellanillian said.