by Jason Kenyon
‘Oh gods, another one?’ Bartell asked. ‘But… you’re not dead?’
‘No, sir!’ Felick declared. ‘And I have good news for you! The necromancer of Gale is dead! Belias Greeva, the local farmer, turned out to be the filthy necromancer. But don’t worry, I killed ‘im.’
‘Good work,’ Bartell said, irritated by hearing differing stories from all his underlings. ‘I am told there was no such necromancer at Gale. In fact, I am informed it was just some farmhands being stupid. I do hope you’re not trying to buy favour with false stories?’
Felick didn’t look in the least bit worried. ‘I realised it may sound daft,’ he replied. ‘My missing men are part of the proof, but also I cut off a bit of the demon to bring you.’ He up-ended his bag over Bartell’s desk, and a slab of foul bleeding demon flesh slopped out and sprayed everything on the table with a deep red liquid. In the middle of the slab of meat, still moving, was one of the demon’s eyes, apparently not yet out of life.
‘Broadblade, never ever splat such a thing on my desk ever again,’ Bartell said. ‘But what an interesting specimen. It has been a while since I saw such a thing, a long while indeed. A reminder of evil in this world.’
Felick glanced out at the red skies but opted to keep his silence.
‘So a demon summoner was indeed there,’ Bartell said. ‘Was he in the employ of anyone, or working alone?’
‘Er, well,’ Felick replied, thinking fast (or slowly, if we’re honest. But fast for him). The problem was, he didn’t want to mention Archimegadon and his wild story about Vortagenses, since leaving the mage alive could cause him some trouble if anyone found out. Leaving such a stupid man alive was a pretty bad error. ‘He didn’t mention anything like that, my lord, sir.’
‘I see, I’ll not forget this man though,’ Bartell said. ‘Belias, mm? And what of the key you found?’
‘Key, sir?’ Felick asked.
Bartell eyed the mercenary. Something was up, neither story matched at all. But which of the two men was lying, and for what reason? Both stories were different to what the Light had told him.
‘Never mind,’ he replied after a few moments’ pause. ‘Good work. You go and have a rest. I’ll call you tomorrow for a few more details. We will be heading for the tomb tomorrow so be ready with all of what remains of your Breakers. This will be your most important mission in my service.’
‘Yes, my lord,’ Felick said. He hovered over the demon eye. ‘I’ll uh… clean that up…’
‘No need,’ Bartell said. ‘Leave it there, I will deal with it.’
‘Right you are, milord,’ Felick said with a nod, and he slipped away hastily.
Bartell gave the shadows a dark look. Friends can be enemies can be friends…
Things were not what they seemed. But the Lord Protector of New Valanthas would not be so easily fooled.
*
‘Good grief,’ Archimegadon said, as the band of adventurers drew close to the open gates of Aldrack.
Before, it had been the symbol of fortune and glory in Archimegadon’s quest to nab a couple of thousand relorans from Lord Bartell. Now the city was a dark and ominous shadow, thick and forbidding under the glare of the magic that maintained the dome.
‘This place doesn’t look terribly cheery,’ Archimegadon went on. ‘Nevertheless, my good fellows, we shall attain glory in this city and conquer the Lord Protector.’
‘Sir Mage,’ Obdo said, ‘how do you plan on beating the three heroes of the old war?’
‘Using wit and cunning, and supreme power!’ Archimegadon replied. ‘And from now on, Obdo, refer to me as the Great Wizard Ub.’
‘I thought it was magician.’
‘Either will do!’ Archimegadon said. ‘It will be my ingenious disguise either way.’
‘I shall be Obdo,’ Obdo said. ‘Can’t be bothered to pretend. We’re not gonna be jumping in their faces, are we?’
‘A tedious ass such as yourself would never succeed in anything without me!’ Archimegadon said. ‘Now let us head forth to do battle with Lord Bartell’s forces. I shall display how to deal with this insolent rabble.’
They strode their way in a fairly audacious fashion in spite of the forbidding armoured guards who blocked the entryway to Aldrack, presumably some of the Knights of the Order of Endless Skies. The knights turned their spears in the direction of Archimegadon and his companions, rumbling irritably amongst themselves at this interruption of their stationary snoozes at their posts.
‘Who are you, and what business have you in the city of Aldrack?’ the lead knight asked.
‘I, my good sir, am the great wiz-magician… erm… Ub!’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I have come to offer my services for the celebration of his Lordship, the Lord Protector Lord Bartell!’
Obdo glared at Archimegadon.
‘You better not be here to cause trouble,’ the knight said. ‘Anyway piss off, if you want in then go ahead, not like you’d cause trouble long, y’old idiot.’
‘My goodness, sir, do not think you’ll get away with that!’ Archimegadon said.
‘Sir Mage, he’s letting us in, shut up,’ Obdo said, pushing Archimegadon past the knights, who were looking somewhat eager to take out their frustrations on the noisy wiz-magician.
Even Neurion joined in with Obdo’s man-handling of the Mage for Hire, and with an apologetic mumble in the direction of the knights, he tugged Archimegadon into the relative safety of some shadows under the wall beyond the city gates.
‘How insolent,’ Archimegadon said after being released, and he brushed potential dust off his arms. ‘Those knights deserved to be shown the appropriate respect.’
‘We’re in Aldrack and not dead, that’s what matters.’ Neurion said. ‘But what will we do now we’re here?’
‘No reason for delay,’ Archimegadon replied, apparently forgetting his prior outrage. ‘The citadel of our enemy lies ahead! We shall sally forth and do battle with them!’
‘By going up to the gates and telling them we’re a magic act for the Bartell appreciation show?’ Obdo asked. ‘Lord King will recognise us as soon as we enter.’
‘Tssh, you underestimate me,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Now, onwards! This place is rather foul, and dark. I would prefer not to dirty myself by lingering in this cesspit.’
Neurion looked around with a particularly unhappy expression at the dark streets of Aldrack, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword. There was nobody really to be seen, just the odd guard and a few harassed people shuffling between buildings with their heads down. Archimegadon didn’t terribly have much interest in his surroundings, though; right now his attention was on the castle of Lord Bartell and Sen Delarian, and whether he could pull off a defeat of the two former heroes. With any luck Akarith was still out of town terrorising the paladins far away, and wouldn’t (for the moment) prove to be an issue.
Concern number one was Sen Delarian, however. The mage’s voice echoed back at him from that time weeks back: ‘I am sure you want to show off those prodigious skills you’ve told us all about so much. Mmm?’ ‘Let this be a lesson you remember. Be what you can be, do not lie that you are more.’ Well bollocks to that – this day Delarian was set to learn a lesson he’d not forget any time soon. Him and that pompous ass Bartell!
His attention was given a nudge by a sharp trumpet screech somewhere in the city. Some of the guards nearby straightened their helmets hurriedly, picked up their idle spears and ran for it. The companions gave each other looks.
A helpful guard rushing past noticed their confusion. ‘It’s time for the parade! Get yourself there if you want to look good!’ And in a flash he was gone.
‘Damn, that’s going ahead already?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘That ass Bartell will be surrounded by every sodding guard going.’
‘No worries, Sir Mage!’ Obdo said. ‘Let’s just get to the castle as planned and see if we can sneak in and find Lord King’s chambers. We can wait there for our meeting.’
‘Ah, a splendi
d idea,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Heaven knows where his chambers are in that stupid place, mind you.’
‘We’ll work something out,’ Obdo said. ‘Let’s get a move on while Lord King is occupied with his silly self-celebration!’
The festival seemed to be in full sway as the companions neared Castle Aldrack’s side entrance, where Archimegadon had been so unceremoniously cast from that time so short yet so long ago. A crowd of people had gathered (or been gathered) which made it rather hard to see any of the actual festivities. However, fortunately the guards in Bartell’s service were obviously so concerned with being seen at the celebrations that they’d left virtually everywhere unguarded. Archimegadon had a look around briefly and then slipped through the open doorway through Castle Aldrack’s outer wall and led the others along with him straight into Elsim Redrock.
‘Good grief!’ Archimegadon said, pulling his hood up right over his face. He adopted a mighty stance and glared down upon the clerk.
‘You!’ Elsim said, peering through his cracked glasses. ‘Or… are you..?’
‘I am indeed!’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I am the great sorcerer wizard Ub!’
‘Ub?’ Elsim repeated. He peered again, but it was too dark to see Archimegadon’s face with his hood up. ‘I don’t think I recognise that name.’
‘I am a famous performer of magical deeds, here for an exhibition for Lord Bartell himself!’ Archimegadon said. ‘I was supposed to have been given an escort to the Lord Protector’s chambers and I received nothing!’
Elsim was a little garbled these days, not to mention being terribly afraid of anyone whose voice was louder than his own (read: everyone). He panicked on the spot and then whistled, summoning rather efficiently a couple of soldiers who lined up with smart precision.
‘Show the wizard Ub to Lord Bartell’s study,’ he said. ‘He and his… ehm… serving men are expected I believe!’
‘Yes, sir!’ the soldiers said. ‘Right this way, wizard.’
Archimegadon gave Elsim a mocking bow and then strode off after the soldiers, while Obdo and Neurion crept along in his wake. Meanwhile the fanfares sounded as Bartell’s parade got into full swing, the sound dithering off into an ominous dirge.
Chapter Thirty-Six: A Lesson in Magic
Archimegadon, Obdo and Neurion stood shiftily around the door that led into Bartell’s study. The soldiers had left them there with strict instructions to do nothing, including not entering, talking or otherwise showing signs of life. In spite of their stern commands, the soldiers had swiftly departed leaving no witnesses to the companions. This left Archimegadon with little incentive to behave.
‘In we go, fellows,’ he said, barging Bartell’s door open.
Bartell’s study was rather dark as usual, illuminated by feeble lights on the walls and the dull red glow from outside through the tall glass window straight ahead, to the left from behind Bartell’s desk. Archimegadon wandered over to the desk and started as the demon eye stared back at him, still lying in the middle of the Lord Protector’s desk. It had died since being handed over to Bartell, not that Archimegadon would be aware of this; instead, it was gazing lifelessly at the ceiling, giving off a particularly foul odour that fought the wine bottle’s scent over the desk.
Archimegadon picked up the wine bottle and knocked the dead eye off the desk, curling his lip.
‘This place makes me feel nervous,’ Neurion said.
‘That may have something to do with it being the very centre of our arch-enemy’s lair,’ Archimegadon said, setting the wine bottle down on the table. ‘Not that it was terribly hard to get in.’
‘I’m not sure that works for us,’ Obdo said. ‘Stinks of cockiness to me. I don’t think Lord King’s afraid of anyone.’
‘His arrogance shall be his downfall,’ Archimegadon said.
‘He’s used that against you before,’ Obdo said. ‘Against all of us, to be honest.’
‘Indeed, but he underestimated us,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Now enough jabber. We must prepare ourselves to defeat Bartell.’
‘You mean you actually do have a plan?’ Obdo asked.
‘Indeed so!’ Archimegadon replied. ‘First step was my flawless pretence to gain entry to this place. Next on the list is killing Bartell himself. It shall be a simple matter.’
‘Go on then,’ Obdo said.
‘Cease this insolent tone at once!’ Archimegadon said. ‘Now, remember our dear heroes’ foolish attempts to defeat Bartell before?’
‘Well, yes,’ Obdo replied. ‘You think we can top them?’
‘My plan is flawless,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Their major concerns rested on two points – one, Bartell’s enormous magical power granted by his magical artefacts. Two – Kalahd, his ability to negate all magic. My idea is quite impressive, I must say. In order to defeat Bartell, we must use his knowledge of me and his own powers against him!’
Obdo didn’t look terribly hopeful.
‘Now, Bartell believes himself all-powerful and so forth, but when he saunters in here with Sen Delarian he will find me, framed by something dramatic,’ Archimegadon went on. He looked over at the giant glass window, which stretched from the floor up to the ceiling. ‘Ah yes, perfect! A silhouette will make a lasting image for the inevitable bardic tales.’
‘Get on with it,’ Obdo said.
‘Silence, you donkey,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Now then, Bartell enters, and sees me! The great Archimegadon, in all my glory!’ He punctuated this by throwing his hood back dramatically, casting a pose in front of the window, so that he was indeed looking rather epic. ‘And I shall cry, at the top of my voice, “For I am Archimegadon”, and launch the most impressive flamebolt ever seen by mankind!’
Obdo sighed. ‘Sir Mage, let’s go home. We’ll get killed.’
‘I am not finished!’ Archimegadon said. ‘Having done this, Bartell will instantly assume a few things. Namely, he will assume, just as you have, that I am so arrogant and stupid as to believe a simple flamebolt will put an end to him. However, I plan it to be just fast enough that he will be forced to make the second reaction – and use that Kalahd thingy.
‘At this point the Lord Protector and his little lapdog Delarian shall be fully vulnerable. You, Obdo, shall strike one of two crucial blows while they don’t have their magic to hand – and knock out Bartell with that club of yours. Meanwhile you, Neurion, shall unleash the power of your rusty blade and put an end to Delarian. You’ll both be hiding to either side of the door, while I distract them by being magnificent over here.’
‘That… might work,’ Obdo said.
‘It’s the best idea we have to go with,’ Neurion said. ‘I put my faith in Master Archimegadon.’
‘Excellent!’ Archimegadon said. ‘We’re all set now. Those asses the paladins, and Mortimyr and his dolt friends… they’re nowhere close!’
*
One more knight fell to the ground, his armour clanging noisily, but fortunately the fanfares from the nearby parade concealed it. The dust cleared to reveal a tangle of maybe four to five knights, though it was hard to tell from the mess. Mortimyr wiped his forehead and slammed his sword back in its scabbard, while Valia checked round corners for any further threats.
‘It doesn’t feel right at all,’ Valia said once she was comfortable there were no further knights in the vicinity. ‘Killing knights of my order. I could have trained with these people, had dinner in the hall with them…’
‘You know what’s at stake here,’ Gelenn said.
‘Yeah, I know,’ Valia said, heaving a sigh. ‘I should be happy about it given how well I got on with them… they’re the reason I had to move from the city.’
‘Not now,’ Mortimyr said.
‘Right,’ Valia said, flushing.
‘Clear down here – but sheesh, they have every knight out in force,’ Terrill said, concluding his own check. ‘I thought they’d be preoccupied with the parade, not hunting us down.’
‘Something must have set them off
,’ Valia said.
‘We’re nearly at the castle,’ Anjilo said. ‘Let’s get there before any reinforcements arrive. Come on!’
The five hurried away into the shadows, the only trace of their passing a pile of defeated soldiers. Which wasn’t terribly subtle.
*
Bartell was flanked by several guards carrying the banner of Aldrack, which was a swirl of odd shapes, with three swords crossing in the middle that seemed to be forming some sort of star, if that meant anything significant. The crowd had managed to bring itself up to an insincere cheer (an improvement from the disgruntled rumbling at the start of the parade) but it was still not a terribly happy or exciting affair.
To the more observant eye it would soon become apparent that many of the quieter people watching the parade were also in cloaks that were a distinctly lighter shade of dull. Two such figures now glowered as Bartell passed them by, huddling together a little close once he’d done so.
‘Be ready,’ one said to the other. ‘Once things clear a bit I will give the signal.’
‘Yes, Commander,’ the other whispered back.
The first, whose hood disguised the shining hair of Commander Grand, smirked to himself. What an opportunity! To wipe out Lord Bartell and claim his city in one fell swoop! And it wouldn’t harm that nobody knew how to bring down the dome, leaving him effectively as master of this ‘New Valanthas’ for however long. With paladins stationed in the crowds all across Aldrack, it would be a simple matter to conquer the city and usurp the usurper. Happy days!
*
‘Forseld!’
The voice awoke Archimegadon from his reverie as he leant against the window. How long was that infernal parade going to last? He’d been sat there for hours, and Obdo was likely bored of staring through the keyhole ready for Bartell’s return. He tried to ignore the voice, but it was rather loud.
‘Forseld! What are you doing? You’re supposed to be warning the paladins!’
Archimegadon sighed. ‘Now see here, madam, I tried to locate them. However they seem to be nowhere obvious.’
‘So the next place to look is the study of Lord Bartell himself?’ Antagules asked through the staff. ‘He’s far more powerful than you! Get moving before he returns!’