by Jason Kenyon
‘Redrock, you knave!’ Archimegadon said. ‘Come to apologise, have you?’
‘Oh, yes sir,’ Elsim replied.
‘This is that man you claimed not to know,’ Neurion said. ‘Felick had him.’
‘Indeed, I was putting on an act to preserve the amulet,’ Archimegadon said.
‘And that worked out great for you,’ Obdo said.
‘It nearly did not,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Now then, clerk, perhaps you would care to explain why you promised me money that Sen Delarian did not have?’
‘It was an honest mistake, I promise,’ Elsim replied. ‘It won’t happen again. Ever.’
‘Damn right it won’t,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Fortunately I am soon to receive double what you promised, but I will never more accept any quests you are handing out.’
‘Oh, but sir…’
‘Silence!’ Elsim fell suitably silent, and Archimegadon went on. ‘One thousand relorans is a lot of money to promise someone. Do not promise it in jest ever again!’
‘Oh, don’t worry, sir,’ Elsim said. ‘You’ll get your reward.’ His expression became a little evil. ‘Oh yes, you’ll get your reward.’
Archimegadon, Obdo and even Neurion shared a look. ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’ the mage asked.
‘Nothing,’ Elsim replied.
‘If it meant nothing, then why did you say it?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Oh, well, it meant you would get your relorans,’ Elsim replied, and he grinned. ‘Yes, the relorans…’
‘This guy’s creepy,’ Obdo said.
‘I don’t trust him,’ Neurion said. ‘Something about his manner makes me uneasy.’
‘Now don’t you fear little Elsim,’ the clerk said. ‘Don’t you fear him.’
Archimegadon was momentarily lost for words. ‘Did Broadblade damage your head? I noticed that your glasses look worse than ever.’
‘Don’t worry for me,’ Elsim replied. ‘I will get better.’
‘Let us hold a celebration, then,’ Archimegadon said. ‘In the meantime, I presume there was a purpose to your visit?’
‘Ah yes, sirs,’ Elsim replied. ‘Lord Bartell invites you to a feast tonight in your honour. Everyone will be there. It shall be a memorable night.’
‘Good heavens, he rushed that ahead a bit,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I thought he said it was to be in a few days.’
‘Master Sen Delarian arrived early,’ Elsim said. ‘Now we can have the feast.’
‘Why, do we need him to have a feast?’ Archimegadon asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
‘Don’t you fear little Elsim,’ the clerk replied, his eyes bobbing from side to side.
‘What the…’ Archimegadon cleared his throat. ‘Now look, I am not one for games. If you are hiding something, I suggest you reveal it now. Excepting any hideous sights you are concealing.’
‘Elsim has no secrets,’ the clerk said. ‘None at all!’ He scuttled away before Archimegadon could snag him back.
‘What the heck was that?’ Obdo asked.
‘That was Elsim Redrock, the clerk who hired me,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I do believe he has lost his wits since I last saw him. He was well spoken when last we met. Indeed, I was rather impressed since the last person I had spoken to (aside from that barmaid) was you, farmhand.’
‘There’s a barmaid near my old home?’ Obdo asked. ‘Might be time to head back.’
‘Thank heavens for that,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I was becoming a little worried that you would never leave.’
‘You’re all heart, Sir Mage,’ Obdo said.
‘I do not like that man,’ Neurion said.
‘Now, don’t you fear him,’ Obdo said, grinning.
‘No, there’s something funny going on,’ Neurion said, looking very serious indeed. ‘I suggest we keep our eyes out for trouble.’
‘There’s only one source of trouble here,’ Obdo said, ‘and that’s Sir Mage.’
‘You are merely jealous,’ Archimegadon said.
‘We still don’t know who destroyed the Dusk Alliance base,’ Neurion said. ‘Don’t you think we should let Lord Bartell know? He might be able to help us stop this threat.’
‘After we said it was us?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘Madness!’
‘If we help prevent the threat, we could become even more renowned,’ Obdo said. ‘We don’t have to say we did nothing anyway, just that there was someone else there.’
‘Ah, this is true,’ Archimegadon said. ‘We blame the deception on Valia.’
‘That’s a little dishonest,’ Neurion said.
‘So was running off with Broadblade,’ Archimegadon said.
‘I wonder why she did,’ Neurion said.
‘Young love,’ Archimegadon said with a sigh. ‘What knavery. Now onwards! Let us do Aldrack further service. But if this goes wrong there will be trouble.’
*
Bartell was up on the highest tower trying to attach a large magical rod to one of the parapets and having considerable trouble. Nothing that he tried would hold the rod up in the correct place, and that would cause problems when it came to the casting tonight unless he could work out how to get this to stay in position.
‘My lord,’ said a knight behind him. Bartell jumped and nearly dropped the magical rod over the edge.
‘Do you mind?’ Bartell asked. ‘I nearly fell off! Don’t sneak up behind me.’
The knight, who had not in fact sneaked in the slightest (especially since his armour was making dreadful creaking noises right now), shifted awkwardly. ‘I apologise, my lord,’ he said.
Bartell shook his head. ‘Oh, never mind. Anyway, what did you want?’
‘The heroes have come to see you,’ the knight replied.
Auber pondered whether he had been the cause of so much irritation to those in command back when he had been a hero, dropping in on castles and expecting free board. At least he had been a genuine hero, he supposed. Still, he didn’t want Archimegadon to be suspicious of him just yet, so he nodded.
‘Very well, show them up,’ he said, and got back to tying the rod in place.
‘Greetings, Lord Bartell,’ Archimegadon said a few moments later, and the Lord of Aldrack felt a shiver of irritation spread up from his spine to the crown of his head.
‘Well met, mage,’ Bartell said. ‘And what brings you here?’
‘We have something to tell you,’ the paladin replied. Bartell tried to recall the man’s name, but it eluded him and he gave up.
‘This doesn’t sound promising,’ Bartell said with a smile. He cast an eye over his various magical rings and touched a hand to his chest, where he felt the reassuring bumps of the various magical amulets. If they were wise to him, or if they were actually rather smarter than he had given them credit, then he at least had his means of defence if things got nasty.
‘It is about the destruction of the Dusk Alliance base,’ the paladin went on. ‘You see, it was not strictly us alone who destroyed it.’
Bartell confessed himself surprised at this. Was this the truth coming from them? How unlike what he knew of Archimegadon. Then again, it had probably not been the mage who suggested it. ‘Is that so?’ he asked. ‘So you lied.’
‘Not entirely,’ the paladin said. ‘We… uh… we left out a detail or two.’
‘Well, out with it,’ Bartell said. This was all rather amusing.
‘There was a man… an extraordinarily powerful man… who did much of the damage,’ the paladin said. ‘He may have been a mage, but he was a lot more powerful than most.’
‘Was he indeed?’ Bartell asked. How nice, to be receiving such high praise.
‘Nobody knows who he is, but I was worried that he may be a threat to you and Aldrack, if not the kingdom itself,’ the paladin replied. ‘It was wrong of us to leave this out just to make names for ourselves, and we are sorry.’
That really did surprise Bartell, but then, like most apologies, it was probably made purely out of a need to
save oneself rather than out of genuine repentance. He also noted that Archimegadon himself didn’t look too impressed at the level of honesty and humility his companion was displaying.
‘Apologies accepted,’ Bartell lied. ‘I shall see what I can find out about this mysterious fellow. I would not worry. Master Sen Delarian is surely enough of a match for him.’
‘Does this mean… the feast is cancelled?’ the paladin asked.
‘Oh, nonsense,’ Bartell replied. ‘You did the right thing in telling me. It may have taken you longer than it should have done, mm? But you told me in the end, before it is too late.’ He flashed a grin. ‘I hope.’
‘I hope so too,’ the paladin, looking heartened. Too bad for him, Bartell mused. Then again, the paladin was not to be the focus of tonight’s little punishment.
‘Well, I’m a little busy right now,’ Bartell went on, returning to his work on the magical rod. ‘I will speak to you all more at the feast.’
‘Uh… one other thing,’ the paladin said. ‘Your clerk… Elsim Redrock… he’s acting a little strange. I think he may have been threatening us.’
‘Threatening you?’ Bartell asked. ‘He’s a little crazy. Damned good at adding up numbers though. Just ignore him, he doesn’t always know what he is saying.’ Bartell made a mental note to have a few choice words with Elsim before the feast.
‘I see,’ the paladin said. ‘Well, take care, my lord. And thank you for being understanding.’
‘It’s my duty,’ Bartell lied. ‘I’ll see you at the feast.’
‘It should be quite an event,’ the paladin said.
‘Oh yes,’ Bartell said. ‘My chefs will be sure to dish up a fine meal. And their desserts are the best in the kingdom!’
‘I will look forward to it,’ the paladin said.
So will I, Bartell thought.
*
‘And you’re sure this is what the spell will do?’ Valia asked, riding at full speed towards Aldrack.
‘I don’t know,’ Felick said, his horse barely able to keep up with hers. ‘That’s what little rat man said. He was a bit crazy right then, though. I wouldn’t trust his word.’
‘I trust it enough,’ Valia said. ‘If he’s right, everyone is stuck in a death trap! We have to hurry!’
‘Damn, the horses can’t go any faster!’ Felick said.
‘I only hope they are fast enough.’
Chapter Twenty-One: The Great Feast
Archimegadon did not bother to change for the feast, since the clothes he was already wearing were splendid enough. There was no need to spoil these city louts by showing them too much favour. After all, he would soon enough be among their number, so they would be grateful to him for bringing some much needed nobility to, well, the nobility.
‘The essence of good breeding,’ Archimegadon said to Obdo and Neurion, who had both turned up afraid of going by themselves, ‘is to ensure that everyone knows how much lower they are than you.’
‘It is?’ Neurion asked. ‘We were always taught differently at the paladin school.’
‘You were taught a lot of things at the paladin nursery,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Very few of those things were useful or true.’
‘How would you know?’ Neurion asked.
‘Let’s just say I have seen evidence of it,’ Archimegadon replied.
‘This feast,’ Obdo said. ‘Nobody’s going to talk to us, are they?’
‘Unfortunately, I fear that these feasts are more about what comes out of the mouth than what goes in,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Fear not, farmhand. I shall do all of your talking for you. So we need not worry. So long as I am in control of this merry little band, there is nothing that could possibly go wrong. Nothing at all.’
‘Don’t tempt fate,’ Obdo said.
‘Tush, I control my own destiny,’ Archimegadon said.
‘But what if someone else’s destiny interferes?’ Obdo asked.
‘Then I shall barge it out of the way,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Honestly, don’t you have a clue about how I deal with things by now?’
‘I suppose I always hope there might be a glimmer of goodness somewhere inside you,’ Obdo replied.
‘Bah, good and evil are knavish concepts for the uninitiated,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Merely differences of opinion, my boy.’
‘If neither good or evil exist, then what does that say for heaven and hell?’ Neurion asked, his forehead furrowed as he put all of his abilities to the task of working this conundrum out.
‘Well, if heaven and hell exist,’ Archimegadon replied, ‘then I imagine that certain people favour one or the other.’
‘Good or evil people, you mean?’ Obdo asked.
‘No!’ Archimegadon tapped on Obdo’s skull with the Staff of Antagules. ‘Have you not been listening?’
‘I think you don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Obdo replied.
‘You do not think, Obdo,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Therefore that entire statement is inaccurate.’
‘There’s no point arguing with you, is there, Sir Mage?’
‘None,’ Archimegadon replied.
‘You know all of the solutions but none of the problems,’ Obdo said.
Archimegadon wasn’t sure what that meant, so he decided to ignore it. ‘Now then, Lord Bartell seems to have given us a reprieve, so be on your best behaviour. Mention nothing about firestorms of any sort. Emphasise that we defeated Akarith, and remember – it was on a burning building about to collapse, and we only survived because I was able to create a solid walkway of ice.’
‘I’m pretty sure it would melt,’ Obdo said.
‘Master Archimegadon could counter the heat,’ Neurion said. ‘I don’t think he would have any problem with it.’
‘You’re remarkably comfortable with lying, master paladin,’ Obdo said. ‘What happened to that wonderful code of the paladin order?’
‘Quiet, necromancer,’ Neurion replied. ‘It is a sacrifice I must make in order to keep an eye on you.’
Obdo’s eyes narrowed as he looked between Neurion and Archimegadon. ‘You may not look like it yet, but you’re definitely starting to sound similar.’
‘Explain that at once,’ Archimegadon said, glaring.
‘Using lies and lofty notions to justify money-grabbing,’ Obdo said. ‘That’s how you operate, Sir Mage. Although I think Neurion still believes the rubbish he spouts.’
‘Excuse me,’ Neurion said, ‘but I take offence at these insults. I am a paladin of the highest principles.’
‘Your head is in the clouds, no doubt about that,’ Obdo said. ‘But really, Sir Rusty, no matter how shiny your armour is, if it’s rusty underneath, that is the truth of it.’
‘Obdo, if you continue to regurgitate tedious philosophy I may be forced to demolish you,’ Archimegadon said.
‘Oooh, touched a nerve, have I?’ Obdo asked.
Archimegadon jabbed Obdo’s arm with the Staff of Antagules. ‘That is touching a nerve. What you were doing was sending me to sleep.’
‘How terrible for you,’ Obdo said.
‘Well, I hope you feel ashamed,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Now then, enough of this foolery! It is time to go to the feast, and it is long overdue. I am starving, and what is to come afterwards promises to be excellent.’
‘Lord Bartell did say the chefs did good desserts,’ Neurion said.
‘I think Sir Mage was talking about the relorans,’ Obdo said.
‘Ah,’ Neurion said. ‘Mind you, I’m still a little suspicious about that clerk. Didn’t he seem weird to the rest of you?’
‘Oh, no, I thought he was perfectly well adjusted,’ Obdo replied.
‘Maybe it was just me, then,’ Neurion said.
Archimegadon slapped the back of Neurion’s head. ‘If you do not become aware of sarcasm soon there will be trouble.’
‘Who was being sarcastic?’ Neurion asked.
Obdo peered at the paladin. ‘Maybe he is being sarcastic right now. Maybe it’s all an act, S
ir Mage.’
Archimegadon frowned, having had such thoughts before. ‘If that is so, I trust you will stop trying to be funny and start helping out,’ he told Neurion.
‘I don’t know what you are both going on about,’ Neurion said. ‘Didn’t you think Elsim was suspicious?’
After staring at Neurion for a considerable amount of time, Archimegadon shrugged. ‘He seemed mad, but then perhaps when Broadblade hauled him off they left him a little unstable. It would be a sad thing, for sure, but it is a possibility.’
Obdo shifted and scratched his hair. ‘Wait, are we late for this party thing?’
‘Ah yes.’ Archimegadon once again struck his mightiest pose. ‘Let us be off then, to show these rogues what true splendour is!’
*
‘You are sure it was attached perfectly?’ Sen asked.
‘Good heavens, Sen, must you plague me with this every second of the day?’ Bartell returned. ‘Yes, I made sure it was perfect. I double… no, triple-checked it. Nothing is going to go wrong. I guarantee it.’
‘Don’t get so tetchy, Auber,’ Sen said. ‘I am just making sure.’
‘We are moving great forces tonight, Sen,’ Bartell said. ‘Anyone would be tetchy right now.’
Sen spread his arms wide and raised his eyebrows. ‘Do I look tense to you, Auber?’
Bartell slumped back in his desk and picked up the nearest quill, and began brushing it back and forth as he ran through everything again in his head, the details blurring and merging into each other and leaving him thoroughly bemused. Something was surely going to go wrong at this rate.
Cold air brushed past his face and Bartell looked up at Sen, whose shadowed figure was looming over him, motionless and serene. The mage’s face cracked into dark lines as he smiled, while his eyes seemed to slip ever further into the void. Footsteps echoed in the halls beyond Bartell’s doors, the familiar clangour of armoured troops mingling with the hurried clamour of rushing servants preparing the last details of the meal. As the seconds passed Bartell felt a strange change in the air, as though perhaps fate itself had just altered direction. Calm settled over him, knowledge as Sen’s smile fell across him that there was nothing to worry about.