Mage for Hire

by Jason Kenyon

  ‘No, wait!’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘What, are you going to kneel, then?’ Bartell asked.

  ‘No, but…’ Archimegadon withered.

  ‘Then continue, Redrock!’ Bartell said.

  In some ways it wasn’t as bad as the first time. Obdo’s yell was not so terrible, but he also looked a lot weaker, and that was almost certainly the reason for it. Valia’s eyes now held the same accusation and loathing that the imaginary Berus and Kalissa had when Obdo had first suggested smashing the mirror. If only Archimegadon had done it, if only he’d smashed the mirror and saved the day with the ultimate sacrifice. But now, with this torture going on, Archimegadon didn’t want to be stuck with his last living deeds being the inaction that led to the maiming of his friends. He still couldn’t bring himself to smash the mirror, no matter how he tried to just get it over with.

  ‘Oh, this is quite disgusting,’ Elsim said with the air of a nobleman finding a piece of cheese on his carpet.

  With a sniff he threw the two fingers aside, so that they skidded across the floor and off towards the darkness at the back of the throne room. Obdo himself was quite beyond noticing, but Neurion let out a cry of dismay.

  The moment passed, broken by the sound of Bartell chuckling. ‘What say you now, Forseld? Where is your renowned courage?’

  Archimegadon was quite still. He stared at Obdo, willing him to give him some sort of sign, but it was no use. The farmhand was in too much pain to concentrate on anything else. What did the world expect him to do?

  ‘Still no answer?’ Bartell asked. ‘Very well, then. I’ve taken two of his fingers, now let’s take off a whole hand! Redrock!’

  Obdo looked like he was about to faint. The clerk paid no mind and grabbed Obdo’s left arm out from Felick’s hold, yanking it towards him away from Obdo’s bleeding right hand. Neurion made to move again but one of the knights lowered his sword to the paladin’s throat. Elsim shook some of the blood off his knife and placed it meaningfully over Obdo’s left wrist.

  ‘What is your choice, Forseld?’ Bartell demanded. ‘Is this foolish act of defiance really worth it? The world kneels to me now, and you must fall in line! On your knees! NOW!’

  ‘Don’t do it,’ Neurion said. ‘Don’t bow to him, don’t give him his victory.’

  ‘What difference does it make anyway?’ Valia asked. ‘Stop making them suffer and kneel!’

  ‘You would do wisely to listen to her,’ Bartell said. The magic swirled about the Staff of Vortagenses, and now tendrils began to surround the former hero, and the energy seemed to grow stormy as though affected by Bartell’s mood. ‘It is but a simple act, and it changes very little. I may even be merciful when all this is done. You have a simple choice – kneel, and Obdo and Neurion will live. Continue this resistance, and they will suffer until you break. We can find plenty of ways to scar them both before they die, and you will watch each and every one and know that it is by your decision that they suffer it. Now kneel!’

  Archimegadon stood frozen next to the mirror, his eyes darting between Bartell and Obdo.

  ‘You just have to ask yourself,’ Bartell went on, ‘why does this matter to you so much anyway?’

  What did it matter? This refusal did not stop Bartell’s plan; it would not interrupt the spell and it could not free his friends. It was just an arrogant refusal that made a symbolic difference for a bardic tale that would never be sung. For everyone involved, it was utterly pointless.

  Archimegadon’s right knee bent slightly.

  But then was Bartell asking the right question? Was it a matter of its importance to Archimegadon… or to Lord Bartell himself? The Lord Protector controlled everything in this room – the spell was now filling him with the power of the Gharlen, the knights and mercenaries held the companions bound, and Bartell’s Clerics guarded the door against all who would enter or try to leave. Yet he insisted on Archimegadon kneeling.

  What was the reason? Was it simply the narcissistic act of a man plagued by feelings of inadequacy? Or was it because Archimegadon, unchained as he was, was the only uncertain factor in this room? As the only person or thing uncontrolled by Bartell, Archimegadon was perhaps the only one who could turn this situation on its head and defeat the Lord Protector once and for all. This demand to kneel was Bartell’s last fall-back, his way of controlling the one person left he did not have a hold on.

  But that was irrelevant anyway. The reason Bartell feared Archimegadon right now was because he could potentially break the mirror, but the Lord of Aldrack seemed quite aware that Archimegadon didn’t want to end his own life, nor those of his friends. If he tried anything else it would fail. Attacking Bartell was pure folly – aside from the fact that the Lord Protector likely had some means of fending off a flamebolt, the mercenaries and knights would undoubtedly execute the others on the spot if Archimegadon made a move in that direction. Equally, if he cast a spell at anyone else, the Clerics would probably have no trouble countering it at this distance, and then the Clerics, the knights, the mercenaries, Valia and Bartell himself would all react at once, putting a very swift end to Archimegadon’s resistance.

  Lastly, if he spent too much time debating the point, Obdo would continue to be tortured, they’d move back to Neurion, and Bartell’s spell would finish casting, granting the Lord Protector the power of a demon ‘god’. But what solution was there? What could possibly free his friends, disarm Bartell and end the spell at the same time? Nothing that lay in the Mage for Hire’s power for certain.

  But what was left then? None of the companions could act. There was no good relying on some outside help. Which left him with what he was good at, which was approximately nothing.

  He ran his head through everything that had come before now, from walking to Melethas, to running into Mesellanillian in the forest, to the Dusk Alliance base. Then to Castle Aldrack, the meeting with Bartell on good terms and then distinctly bad, off to the Mage Academy, Belias, back to Aldrack, Sen Delarian… things gathered pace until he arrived back here. What had he learnt? Were there any nuggets that together would save the day at long last? Some small thing that he had forgotten?

  Some small thing…

  Something that could thwart Bartell and everything else at once, but how?

  But then, there was something Archimegadon was good at. Something he was very, very good at.

  ‘Forseld, your answer!’ Bartell said. ‘I am no longer interested in waiting! Kneel before me at once!’

  Archimegadon arranged his robes carefully and smiled crookedly. ‘I do hope that wasn’t the line you used with Akarith, though it would rather explain why things turned out the way they did.’

  A hush descended on the room. Only the hum of the magical beams filled the empty space.

  Bartell froze. ‘I… beg your pardon?’

  ‘Old man, what do you think you are doing?’ Valia asked in disbelief.

  ‘Oh, well, I am merely wondering if it was a bedtime pursuit of yours,’ Archimegadon went on. ‘Whip crack and all that, hmm? We all have our own special interests.’

  ‘This is utter babble and nonsense,’ Bartell said, his face going purple. ‘Don’t talk about me and Akarith, you know nothing!’

  ‘Oh come now, Bartell, it’s not so hard,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Didn’t take much to make her believe you would get a magical amulet to increase your… ehm… potency. At the end of the day, that was your big… or little… problem! Akarith is a feisty woman, I doubt she had much time for under-performers.’

  ‘How dare you?’ Bartell demanded. ‘Who do you think you are?’

  ‘Valanthas’s foremost Mage for Hire, of course,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘For I am Archimegadon! And you know, even that line would likely work better than “Kneel!” But I suppose when the passion takes you…’

  ‘I have never commanded her to…’ Bartell froze mid-sentence. ‘I cannot believe I am even discussing this. Enough, Forseld, there are other matters…’

  Bartell was off-
balance. Archimegadon went in full force. Time to end this. ‘You murdered her because she did not love you. All the bedtime matters paled into insignificance alongside the fact that she liked you, yes, but she did not love you. Even when it came to sex you two simply did not go together. You cannot force a person to love you just because you want it that way… and to murder them for not loving you is pathetic.’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Bartell said. ‘How dare you?’

  ‘How dare you?’ Archimegadon hurled back. ‘How dare you deem yourself worthy of commanding other people’s lives when your own is such a mess. There are plenty of women in the world, and you let yourself be taken by an obsession. You are a disgrace.’

  ‘Your entire assumption is wrong!’ Bartell said.

  ‘She did not love you!’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘She did!’ Bartell yelled, his voice uncharacteristically shrill.

  ‘No, she did not,’ Archimegadon stated with damning finality in his voice.

  ‘She did!’ Bartell howled. He pointed his finger at Archimegadon as though casting a spell. ‘Would you just… SHUT… UP!’

  There was a faint sensation in the air, and then with a blast everything went pitch black. Everyone yelled with surprise or panic and in the middle of that, barely audible, there was a slight sound of a crack. Then a voice pierced the gloom.

  ‘Neurion, light!’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘Oh, right,’ Neurion said. A moment later illumination flooded back into the room as a grand bubble of light burst into life over Neurion, bright but still leaving shadows around the edges of the chamber. It appeared that he’d wisely taken the opportunity to scrabble away a short distance from Bartell’s minions.

  ‘And Obdo,’ Archimegadon added.

  ‘Of course!’ Neurion turned to Obdo, who had collapsed to his backside as Felick and Valia had released him in their surprise, and summoned a great aura of light that surrounded the farmhand. While Obdo was not healed, he was at least no longer in pain.

  With that act done, people’s attention turned back to the room at large. There were no more magical beams between the mirrors and the Staff of Vortagenses. Overhead and below through the glass the swirling storm and starry sky were gone, and they could see only darkness and cold stone. Bartell stood frozen in position in front of the throne, apparently quite lost for words.

  ‘What have you done?’ Bartell asked after a moment.

  Archimegadon did a grand flourish with the Staff of Antagules, looking every bit the showman now. ‘Ah, but it was not what I did,’ he replied. ‘It is what you did, sir, that has brought this upon us.’

  Bartell looked quite blank.

  ‘Indeed so!’ Archimegadon said. ‘You, my lord Auber Bartell, have activated your own ring, and in so doing killed all magic in the area… aside from the Light, which as I believe is not affected by that ring of yours.’

  ‘I did not say Kalahd,’ Bartell said, frowning.

  ‘Quick language lesson,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Kalahd was the old word for “Shut up”, which rather nicely you said for me. But you didn’t just say it… you willed it, which was what all that insulting was for. Thank you, Bartell. You have done me proud.’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Bartell said. ‘I did not do it! This is some trick!’

  ‘Believe what you will,’ Archimegadon said. ‘In the meantime… Neurion! Is the Light with us?’ It was a hell of a lot of pressure to put on the barely-trained paladin, but there was no time left to them.

  ‘Always,’ Neurion replied, apparently knowing right away what Archimegadon was about to ask. The Light surrounded him, and Archimegadon knew he’d summoned the Spell of Holy Fury. He only hoped the paladin had looked at the right people.

  Neurion’s first targets were the assembled Clerics, who had all frozen up in the magic-free gloom. Without their powers, they were the weakest target, and the paladin’s vengeful blade took two of them down in a matter of moments, before they could so much as think to react, causing the others to panic and run straight for the doorway. Archimegadon meanwhile charged in and lashed his staff at Valia, who was the quickest of Bartell’s bunch to gather her wits. She noticed him instantly and blocked his clumsy strike with her shield, before pushing him back.

  ‘Nice trick, old man, but you lost your advantage now,’ she said.

  ‘Enough of that,’ Felick said, grabbing her arm from behind.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Valia demanded.

  ‘Same as you, defecting,’ Felick replied, twisting her arm round so that she let out a cry and dropped her sword.

  ‘Good grief, of all the times,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Whatever made you change your mind?’

  ‘Boss?’ one of Felick’s men asked.

  ‘They’ve been right all along,’ Felick replied, unable to meet his underling’s gaze. ‘I see it now. He’s gonna wipe me and you all out sure as anything just like he did Miss Kellason, he’s the real enemy here. I messed up at Gale, and this is repayment.’

  Valia’s leg shot up behind her, striking Felick between the legs, and then she rammed her free elbow into his midriff, and he released her arm. ‘Talk less,’ she said, stumbling away from him and the rest. ‘You others, who are you with?’ she demanded of Felick’s mercenaries.

  They stared at Neurion, shrouded by the Light, then at Felick, doubled over in pain, then up at Lord Bartell, who had frozen worse than Archimegadon had. The Breakers stared at Felick, who gestured with his head for them to join him, looking worse the wear for Valia’s impolite kick. An unspoken conversation took place between them all as they all exchanged looks, and then the Breakers joined Felick.

  ‘Bastards,’ Valia said. She looked at her fellow knights next. ‘What about you lot, you’re going to play heroes as well?’

  ‘I’m with Bartell,’ one of them replied without a moment’s hesitation, and the others took up his cry.

  ‘Then get them!’ Valia said, pointing wildly at Archimegadon, Felick, Neurion and the Breakers. ‘Kill all of them!’

  ‘Be in pain later,’ Neurion said, waving a hand at Felick, who blinked and straightened.

  ‘Nice one, pal,’ Felick said, grinning.

  Neurion didn’t look happy at being called that, but he turned to the issue at hand, Bartell’s knights. His sword had been bloodied on the Clerics when they’d not been able to use their magic, but ready and able opponents were quite another matter.

  ‘Neurion, once you’ve beaten them, get out of here,’ Archimegadon told him. ‘Take Obdo to safety, go as fast as you can. Just in case.’

  Neurion looked slightly confused, but he nodded after a few seconds. ‘Very well, Master Archimegadon. Now, excuse me…’ He bowed his head for half a second of piety, and then raced alongside Felick to battle.

  Valia tried to retrieve her sword while everyone was distracted, but Archimegadon kicked it away towards the discarded suit of armour.

  ‘Then I’ll do it with my bare hands,’ she said, knocking Archimegadon’s staff aside with her shield and grabbing his throat.

  ‘Valia,’ Archimegadon said, forcing the words out, trying to prise her hands off, ‘all this hatred… is quite… unnecessary. Even Felick saw the right of things.’

  ‘There’s no way back for me,’ Valia said, tightening her grip. ‘I watched Aldrack burn… I let Bartell kill them… there’s no return from willingly letting a city die.’

  ‘Erm, well,’ Archimegadon began. He looked past Valia’s shoulder and tried his old trick. ‘Yes, kill her now, Neurion!’

  Valia gave him a withering look and then punched him full in the face, dropping him instantly. As the world blurred, Archimegadon found his confused senses feeling all the more sympathy for Neurion having suffered two of Valia’s punches. Then burning anger replaced all that as Valia spat in his face while he was down, and without thinking he aimed a kick at her, narrowly missing as she dodged backwards.

  Archimegadon stumbled to his feet, grabbing the Staff of Antagules as he did so and brandishing it
threateningly before himself. Teeth bared, Valia looked ready to charge at him right away, but then she looked over at Bartell again, and her expression became one of impatient frustration.

  ‘Well, don’t just stand there!’ she shouted at Bartell. ‘What are you doing?’

  Bartell was still frozen, though, his eyes flicking back and forth as though he was having silent conversations with multiple people and constantly having to look between them. Breathing hard, Valia stumbled back away from the dais and towards the doors.

  ‘Screw it then,’ Valia said. ‘Die for yourself, Bartell, I’m not going to.’

  ‘Get back here!’ Archimegadon yelled at her, and as she barged open the doors he tried to fire off a flamebolt. He realised that the Kalahd anti-magic field was still active just as Valia slipped out of sight, and he prepared to invoke a profanity so terrible it would likely have outdone the power of the Gharlen themselves.

  A Knight of Endless Skies opted to prevent this course of events, though, and Archimegadon dodged back just in time. Before the knight could follow up, Felick grabbed hold of him and neatly pulled him back over his leg and tossed the man unceremoniously to the floor. Felick threw Archimegadon a wink and then set to dispatching the knight, while Archimegadon tried to get a hold on the chaos that had broken out.

  ‘Obdo, come here,’ Archimegadon said to the farmhand, who was still cradling his maimed hand. ‘You need to get out of here with Neurion somehow – Valia and probably other knights might still be out there, but trust me, you aren’t going to want to be here soon if I’m wrong about the ritual.’

  ‘Sir Mage,’ Obdo said. ‘I should… I should help out…’

  ‘Just get out of here, as far as you can,’ Archimegadon said.

  Obdo didn’t seem in much of a mood to argue, which was understandable. He stumbled to his feet, retrieved the helmet he’d stolen and put it on, and then ran for it, looking for all the world like just another of Bartell’s soldiers.

  Felick and Neurion seemed to be doing okay against the knights meanwhile, but the other Breakers had all met their ends at the hands of Bartell’s faithful remaining servants. It looked like Neurion was only surviving thanks to Felick’s watchful protection, as Felick constantly took down knights who got too close to the young paladin. The battle had reached the doorway, and despite their successes the knights seemed to be trying to emulate Valia and escape now. The knights, Neurion and Felick disappeared from view, but just as Archimegadon was about to head over to assist them, the magical lights suddenly came back on. The sky filled with clouds, and the circle below winked with thousands of stars.