Mage for Hire

by Jason Kenyon

  A dark shadow passed over Bartell’s face, but a sudden knocking at the door distracted him and he looked away.

  ‘My lord!’ came Elsim’s voice. ‘My lord, is everything alright in there?’

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Redrock, yes!’ Bartell replied. ‘What are you, my mother?’

  ‘Sorry, my lord,’ Elsim said, poking his head round the door, which banged noisily against Archimegadon’s discarded set of armour. ‘It is just we have a couple of prisoners. I wondered if we’d need them.’ Archimegadon felt his hopes dim; it was pretty obvious who they’d have captured.

  Bartell shot Archimegadon a smug grin, before turning back to the doorway. ‘Very well, bring them in.’

  The door creaked open all the way, and Felick marched in with three of his Breakers, a handful of Clerics, Valia and some of the remaining Knights of Endless Skies, and there in the middle, looking very much worse for wear, were Neurion and Obdo, who’d obviously not had much success in thwarting Bartell’s men. Valia did not even bother looking for Archimegadon, instead forcing the two prisoners to their knees one by one at the base of the central dais. Archimegadon twitched, wanting to head straight over there and blast the traitorous woman in the face, but his only advantage right now was in Bartell thinking that he’d ruin the ritual if he smashed the mirror. If he moved from this spot, he was bait for the former hero’s dark powers, which had devastated the Dusk Alliance all that time ago.

  ‘Up yours, Lord King,’ Obdo said, and Valia kicked him in the stomach, causing him to cough violently.

  ‘Keep it shut,’ she said.

  Bartell’s smile remained firmly fixed on his face. ‘Well, now, welcome all to the ascendance of a God. And a long time coming it has been too.’

  ‘How can you side with him, Valia?’ Neurion asked. ‘He is the enemy of the Light.’

  ‘I’m a knight, not a paladin,’ Valia replied, folding her arms and glaring down at him imperiously. ‘I don’t give a crap about your Light. And Bartell is right. This world does need fixing. And not long-term wishy-washy rubbish either. Wiping the slate clean. Starting over.’

  ‘Why did you help us before? Were you planning this all along?’

  ‘I changed sides recently,’ Valia replied, ‘when it became clear just what a pathetic mess the world has become.’

  ‘Oh heavens, don’t tell me it was because I beat Sen?’ Archimegadon asked, feeling a little like an intruder in their conversation, for some odd reason.

  Valia looked round, and the hatred in her eyes as she caught sight of him made the mage feel quite self-conscious. ‘You’re still here?’

  ‘Unfortunately,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I’d rather be at home, frankly, not that I’ve been there in a few months now. But erm, yes, I can think of better places to be.’

  ‘And don’t think it was anything so petty as the ridiculous accolades you got back in Aldrack,’ Valia said.

  ‘Oh, it clearly was,’ Archimegadon said. ‘You turned on the kingdom because you were envious of me?’

  Valia looked like she might explode messily there and then, but Bartell raised a hand. ‘Enough,’ he said, and Valia swallowed whatever response she had been building up to. ‘I have little patience with teary reunions. What matters is we have prisoners. Now, Forseld, care to rethink your threat?’

  ‘Erm, well.’ Archimegadon paused and looked across to Obdo or Neurion to see if they’d say anything. Frankly, he hadn’t a clue what to do now.

  ‘Sir Mage got you stalemated?’ Obdo asked Bartell. ‘Nice one, you old fraud,’ he directed at Archimegadon.

  ‘Fraud, eh?’ Bartell asked. ‘Clerics! Tell me this, if you know of the ritual that is going on here.’

  He gestured back at the Staff of Vortagenses, which had now begun to glow softly. Tendrils of feathery light were now flowing from the mirrors to the dark crystal at the very top of the staff, and with each passing moment they seemed to be getting brighter.

  ‘What do you wish to know?’ one of the Clerics asked.

  ‘Should the conman over there smash one of these mirrors, what would happen?’ Bartell asked.

  The Cleric folded his arms and looked very awkward indeed. ‘Well, that would probably cause an outburst of energy that would chain-react and blow this mountain apart.’

  Bartell didn’t look hugely pleased. ‘Congratulations, Forseld, you’ve indeed got yourself in a fine position.’ He glanced at the Clerics, then at the dying Vortagenses. ‘As for you Clerics, do you know who that is?’

  The Clerics all tried to look quite innocent as they looked at the writhing mess that was what remained of Vortagenses.

  ‘That’s not Ardon’s necromancer, is it?’ Valia asked.

  Bartell fixed all the Clerics with a piercing stare. ‘We all know that is Vortagenses, don’t we? I begin to understand what your religion is all about… and where your allegiances lay when Sen was still in the picture.

  ‘Well, Delarian is dead now. And Vortagenses will be, very shortly. I trust I have your loyalty now?’

  The Clerics all fell to their knees and lowered their heads. ‘We are yours to command.’

  ‘Well, good,’ Bartell said.

  He didn’t really look like he had his heart in it, nor much interest in whether they’d serve him. Archimegadon suspected that was because the Clerics would likely not survive five minutes into Bartell’s intended godhood. Valia and Felick were watching Bartell closely, unreadable expressions on their faces.

  ‘And now to the important matters,’ Bartell continued. ‘Forseld.’

  Archimegadon felt a sudden rush of confidence. He’d not expected to actually put Bartell on the spot like this. He’d not really thought about how he’d deal with the deranged lord at all, to be honest, aside from maybe convincing him that Vortagenses was going to try and jump him. Well, for now, the mirror threat would do.

  ‘I make you this offer,’ Bartell said. He waved his left arm at Obdo and Neurion. ‘I have your friends here. See how they kneel to me? See how the Clerics have kneeled to me? Soon the world itself will kneel before me, as it collapses into oblivion. Kneel before me now, abandon this defiance, and your friends need not suffer for it. Remember that time is on my side. In a matter of minutes the ritual will complete, and you will lose your bargaining advantage entirely. And I will destroy you, to boot.’

  ‘Do not give in to it,’ Neurion said. ‘Our deaths are as nothing compared to what Bartell will do to the world when he gains that demon power.’

  ‘Uhm,’ Archimegadon managed, his confidence doing a full reversal that made the situation feel that much worse. With this limit on how long he could hold out, not to mention the threat of torture, for which he would be responsible…

  ‘Come now, Archimegadon, Mage for Hire,’ Bartell said. ‘Where is your famed confidence? Your reborn fire? Your towering intellect and wit? It is a simple choice. On the one side, your friends suffer. On the other, they don’t!’

  Silence filled the chamber. Felick was looking a little tense, Elsim was his usual jumpy self, Valia was red-faced and glaring daggers at Archimegadon, and the Clerics were all back on their feet, looming ominously over the prisoners.

  ‘Broadblade, strike Neurion, if you will,’ Bartell said.

  ‘The paladin?’ Felick asked, looking a bit surprised. ‘Not the mage, or..?’

  ‘The paladin, yes, get on with it,’ Bartell replied.

  Felick looked slightly uncomfortable about it for some reason, so much so in fact that Valia pushed him aside impatiently and seized Neurion by the front of his tunic.

  ‘Oh, don’t feel bad, Neurion,’ Valia said, flashing him a beautiful smile. ‘It’s just the Light testing you, right?’ And she struck him so hard that his nose audibly cracked, and Neurion collapsed to the floor with a brief cry.

  Obdo surged to his feet and made to lunge at Valia, but one knight took hold of him while another placed his blade at his neck. Valia, meanwhile, pulled Neurion back to his knees, and the young paladin swa
yed as blood dripped from his nose. Obdo tried to give Valia a defiant glare, but he dared not turn his head much with a sword at his throat. Instead, he flicked his eyes over to Archimegadon.

  ‘Sod it, Sir Mage. We’ve had a nice run. But let’s call it here.’

  ‘Obdo, what are you suggesting?’ Archimegadon asked.

  ‘Cowards will always be cowards,’ Valia said.

  Obdo ignored her remark. ‘Smash the mirror, Sir Mage. Blow us all sky high. At least Bartell will lose. And everyone outside will be saved. We don’t have time for negotiations.’

  Bartell’s eyes whipped round to Archimegadon. ‘You’d kill your friends, then?’

  Berus and Kalissa seemed to stand in front of Archimegadon, eyes judging him, blaming him…

  ‘No,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘Don’t be an idiot, Sir Mage!’ Obdo said. ‘Lord King got one thing right back at his castle, and that’s that heroes need to do what needs to be done. Stop him.’

  ‘So you’d side with my way of thinking, Forseld?’ Bartell asked. ‘Wipe out everyone without discriminating?’

  ‘It won’t be everyone,’ Neurion said, his voice sounding strong in spite of things. ‘It would be just us. Obdo’s right, this stalemate won’t help anyone. We need to end this all here and now.’

  Archimegadon swallowed hard. It had all gone quite out of control. What on earth was he, Ardon Forseld, former handyman, doing here, deep under the earth, facing the deranged Lord Bartell in this deadlock? This wasn’t how his life was supposed to go! He was supposed to make easy pickings from his Mage for Hire business! He should have told Elsim no back in that pub, should have stuck with his danger ratings and seen it was way out of his league. Fighting demons, the undead, necromancers, evil heroes…

  Something the matter?

  Antagules! Archimegadon thought back. I’m stuck! I mean really stuck, worse than with Sen!

  How could it be worse? Antagules asked.

  This time, it’s more than me who will die, Archimegadon replied.

  You’re improving, Antagules said. What’s happening?

  I don’t have much time. It’s Bartell. He’s beaten Vortagenses and started the ritual to get the demon power or whatnot.

  He did what?

  He beat Vortagenses, never mind that, he’s history now. But Bartell’s got Obdo and Neurion captive. I’m next to one of the mirrors and if I smash it, the ritual will explode. We’re in a stalemate. He’s threatening to torture Neurion and Obdo if I don’t kneel to him and give up. Obdo and Neurion want me to destroy the mirror and all of us, just to stop Bartell.

  Oh, sticky indeed, Antagules said. Try to reason with Bartell, Forseld. Play for time. I’ll see what I can do.

  How?

  Remind him of his values as a hero. Tell him that people are alright, and that killing them is pointless.

  Erm, right.

  ‘Forseld, what are you doing?’ Bartell asked. ‘Do I need to give you another reminder?’

  ‘Uhm, Bartell, didn’t you ever consider that what you’re doing is wrong?’

  ‘Didn’t we already go through this?’ Bartell asked, sighing.

  ‘Well, I mean, think about it,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I mean, people, they are, erm, they are alright.’

  Bartell just stared.

  ‘I mean, what about animals, and…’

  No, people! Antagules said.

  ‘Erm… no people are… uhm…’

  Good! Antagules said. They’re good!

  ‘… Good… erm… wait.’

  ‘No people are good?’ Bartell asked with a frown.

  ‘Oh, sod it,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Look, Bartell, people may be a bunch of lousy asses at times. I mean, there’s murderers, cheats, all sorts of dubious types, and sometimes, when you’re at the top, trying to sort the whole mess out, it must feel like there’s no fixing it. I mean, I’ve never been high up, but I can understand what it probably looks like.

  ‘Down at the bottom, I’ve sometimes wondered if anyone up above can fix the whole thing. But then you have a day when you go round town and visit the market, buy some things, have a few chats, and you remember that just because the bad memories stick more, doesn’t mean that evil holds sway. No, the world isn’t perfect, but by heavens, it’s not so bad we need to destroy it!’

  Better, Antagules murmured. I’ll see what I can sort out for you.

  Bartell stood still for what felt like a very long time indeed. His men and Valia all watched him warily, waiting for whatever he’d say next. Obdo meanwhile shifted his head round to look at Neurion, who was still looking pretty dazed from Valia’s brutal punch. Archimegadon was actually surprised by the concern in Obdo’s face, but then this wasn’t some silly jaunt along the Central Way. All pretences and otherwise were out the window, and the lines were quite firmly drawn.

  They just needed to bring Bartell back across it.

  The Lord of the destroyed city of Aldrack finally looked back up. ‘Valia… strike Neurion again.’

  Archimegadon reached out as though to stop the act, but he could do nothing as Valia’s fist crashed through Neurion a second time. The bright-haired paladin’s face was now smeared with blood, and his nose looked slightly off-angle, though it was hard to tell exactly from this distance. After a moment’s further consideration, Valia kicked Neurion savagely to the ground, and Obdo hurled abuse at her, almost looking as though he’d risk the sword at his throat and try to break free.

  ‘Bartell…’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘I’m not in the mood for ridiculous moral debates,’ Bartell said. ‘The decision was made long ago. I’ve made my terms, Forseld, now kneel to me.’

  Archimegadon froze again. Antagules had gone silent, convincing Bartell not to kill anyone wasn’t getting them anywhere… what was he expected to do? Would he have to smash the mirror, and go out in a blaze of sort-of glory? He should have come in with a plan, should have spent those last nights thinking up a proper strategy, not messing around having drinks in the pub and buying robes.

  ‘A proper hero would have decided by now,’ Bartell said. ‘So ridiculous to watch you, Forseld. Don’t you get tired of pretending to be a hero?’

  ‘Don’t you get tired of pretending to be a villain?’ Obdo shouted back, and he managed to get one of his arms loose. ‘Standing up there full of yourself, thinking you’re so damn big. Well, this is what I think of you.’

  And he gave Bartell the finger.

  Bartell stared at Obdo’s gesture, and his expression hardened. ‘Very well, then, let’s move things along a bit. Forseld, will you kneel?’

  Archimegadon wavered. ‘I… I… no, I will not.’

  ‘Then Elsim, get out your knife,’ Bartell said. ‘We do this the old-fashioned way.’

  ‘Oh, yes, sir, I understand,’ Elsim said, smirking. ‘Right away!’ He got out his knife and inspected the edge. ‘Yes, it’s all ready. Felick, would you be so kind as to hold Obdo up for me?’

  ‘Uh… right away,’ Felick replied, brushing the two knights aside and grabbing Obdo roughly round the throat from behind, lifting the farmhand to his feet.

  ‘Hold his left arm, if you would,’ Elsim said, his voice very steady and business-like now. Felick simply nodded and pinned Obdo’s arm behind his back.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Archimegadon demanded, his voice lacking any real force.

  ‘Valia, would you be a dear and hold out his right arm for me?’ Elsim asked.

  ‘Don’t talk down to me,’ Valia said, but she grabbed Obdo’s unwilling arm and yanked it out anyway.

  ‘Get off me,’ Obdo said, his voice straining with Felick’s arm so tight round his neck.

  Elsim stood in front of Obdo. ‘Now then, this will sting quite a lot,’ he said. With meticulous care, the clerk took hold of one of Obdo’s fingers. The air went quite silent for a moment, as all in the room saw what was about to happen. Archimegadon froze completely, all ideas completely gone, any certainty
he’d had previously evaporated and faded out of existence.

  And then, with a careful motion, Elsim cut off Obdo’s finger.

  The farmhand’s yell of pain stabbed through Archimegadon worse than any of the injuries he’d had over the last few weeks. And it didn’t stop, Obdo went on and on, shaking and struggling wildly in Felick and Valia’s grip. But neither released him. Valia looked over at Archimegadon, her expression a lot softer now than it had been for a long time.

  ‘It’s the way he got me,’ she said, then she looked down.

  Archimegadon didn’t quite understand what she meant, but he did know that Obdo’s agony was all his fault. His inaction, his inability to control or master this situation… he’d brought this on Obdo as surely as if he’d held Elsim’s blade and done the deed himself. Bartell was watching him, eyes hard as iron, making no comment, movement or gesture. What Elsim had done was enough to speak for him.

  ‘He’s got you, Arkermechadon,’ Felick said, actually sounding a little put off by the situation. ‘Just give it up. He’s not gonna stop there.’

  ‘Now look, Bartell, this isn’t solving anything,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘No, you’re quite right,’ Bartell said, breaking his silence. ‘Kneel, and this is all over.’

  Archimegadon stared at Obdo, who was still convulsing in agony. ‘At least bind the wound, Bartell!’

  ‘There’s no point, Forseld,’ Bartell said. ‘If you’re not going to kneel, then we’ll have to take another one. Elsim!’

  ‘Ready,’ Elsim said.

  ‘Your next chance,’ Bartell said to Archimegadon. He gestured at the beams of energy from the mirrors, which were now much brighter and now making a low humming sound.

  Neurion looked up. ‘Smash the mirror, Master Archimegadon. Don’t let him do this.’

  Archimegadon stared at the Staff of Antagules he held in his hands. One quick strike and Bartell’s plans were dead… but so would he be, so would Neurion and Obdo… there was surely some other option, some way of saving the day that wouldn’t demand their deaths to secure? But his inaction now was costing his friends, and once the ritual was completed, it would cost the world for all time.

  ‘Very well, refuse an answer,’ Bartell said. ‘Elsim, take off another.’