The Severed Realm

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The Severed Realm Page 24

by Michael G. Manning


  Staring up from within Gram’s arms, Lynaralla saw Karen’s shield spring out around them, and when the clubs met it, they stopped, sending a shiver through the magic so strong that Karen nearly lost her feet. Wasting no time, Gram turned and deposited Lynaralla at Karen’s feet, then with a word he summoned Thorn. “Get her back,” he said quickly, and then, with a nod, he and Alyssa faced the ogres.

  Karen bent, placing a hand on Lynaralla’s brow, and the two of them reappeared on the battlements of Castle Lancaster. Matthew stood a few feet away.

  “You should have taken me!” he yelled.

  “You weren’t close enough,” barked Karen. “She’d have been dead if I waited any longer.” Then she vanished once again, leaving Lynaralla and Matthew alone.

  Matthew knelt beside her and examined her wounds. Before he had even begun to fix her shoulder, Karen reappeared, this time with Irene in her arms. She struggled under the girl’s weight, for they were close to the same size.

  Lynaralla felt a numbness spread over her shoulder and then heard a ‘pop’ as he put her arm back in place.

  “The rest is superficial,” said Matthew, looking up at Karen. “Take me to them.”

  Karen shook her head. “What about Irene? I can’t see anything wrong with her.”

  “Burnout,” mumbled Lynaralla. “She pushed too hard opening the boundary.”

  Matthew winced. “That’s going to hurt when she wakes up.” Then, he stared out across the field. Gram and Alyssa were dancing a wide circle around one another, his great sword and her spear disabling one massive opponent after another.

  Both were armored, but it hardly mattered. The ogre’s clubs were so large that if one connected, it would probably kill them anyway.

  Karen stepped up beside Matthew, placing one hand casually around his waist. “See, they’re fine.”

  “For now,” muttered Matt. “There’s more swarming out of the woods on both sides. We need to go back.”

  “Where do you want to be?” asked Karen.

  “Twenty feet behind them, on this side,” answered Matthew immediately. “Kill the one closest to us and give me a few seconds. I’ll clear out the others.”

  “You have to pay the ferryman first,” Karen declared firmly.

  Matthew appeared startled. Glancing down, he looked at Lynaralla. “We’re not alone. Just take us down there!”

  Karen shook her head no, then tilted her chin up, puckering her lips.

  “Of all the lunacy!” swore Matthew, but he gave in. Leaning down quickly, he kissed her on the lips and they vanished.

  Down on the field again, Karen killed the nearest ogre with several sharp blows of pure force, tearing through its large belly and sending it falling to its knees. Matthew held up his metal hand and summoned the enchanted metal triangles he had created months before. They rose into the air in front of him; the spinning black metal seemed to expand as planes of dimensional force stretched out from them, creating a deadly blur that would cut through anything.

  He swept his arms outward, and the two discs separated and flew out, crossing the distance in opposite directions before circling back to slice through the enemy. The enchanted weapons wove in and out, controlled by his will. They passed through enemies, weapons, and anything else they encountered as though it were nothing more tangible than air.

  Ogres died, and while more kept coming, his deadly attacks cut them down faster than they could reach the field. Those left fighting Alyssa and Gram were isolated, and the two warriors took them apart with almost effortless abandon. Several minutes later, those ogres that arrived last saw their cause was lost, and turned back, running for safety.

  Matthew let them run. He called his blades back, and when they returned, the deadly planes of force disappeared, leaving the two metal triangles unscathed—without even blood on them to show their recent lethal efforts. They settled onto his fist and then winked out of existence.

  Gram and Alyssa sauntered over to them, grinning, faces flushed from battle. They continually looked at each other, causing Matthew to roll his eyes, mildly disgusted. The two of them enjoyed battle—and each other—too much in his opinion.

  “Come along Sir Slaughter and Dame Destruction. Let’s return to the castle,” said Karen.

  Alyssa frowned at her. “I am not a dame.” Meanwhile, Gram began to blush.

  “It seemed appropriate. Isn’t a dame just another term for a woman?” asked Karen.

  Matthew had been warning her to stop with his eyes, but at this point he leaned in, whispering in her ear, “Dame is a rank in this world, equivalent to a knight. It’s also the honorific given to the wife of a knight.”

  Karen’s face lit up with mirth. “So she thought I was suggesting they were going to marry?”

  “I don’t think she took it that way,” said Matt. “She thought you meant she’d be knighted, but the way Gram is blushing means he probably interpreted it the other way.”

  “Oh.” Karen held her hands out to the others, inviting them to form a circle so she could teleport them all together. When they were all close and face-to-face, she looked directly at Sir Gram. “You are going to marry her soon, aren’t you?”

  Gram was poleaxed, and he began to stammer, “I haven’t—we don’t—when—asked—yet.”

  They were standing on the battlements again by the time he finished. Matthew lifted Irene in his arms, and Karen levitated Lynaralla, and together they took them down to the yard and into the keep, leaving the two warriors to continue guarding the walls.

  As they walked, Karen brought the subject up again. “He really should marry her soon.”

  “Could you drop the subject?” growled Matthew, more anxious than he probably needed to be.

  Karen gave him a sidelong glance. “You’ve heard them at night, I’m sure. If he doesn’t marry her soon, it’ll wind up being a shotgun wedding.”

  Matthew refused to comment, but Lynaralla spoke up curiously from where she floated beside them. “What’s a shotgun?”

  Karen took a moment to explain, both the weapon and the meaning of the phrase. When she finished, Lynaralla nodded in understanding. “I don’t think she’s pregnant, yet.” Then she added, “You and Matthew have spent considerable time together of late. Will you be having a shotgun wedding as well?”

  Matthew quickened his pace, leaving the two of them behind.

  “Did I say something wrong?” asked the She’Har girl.

  Karen smiled. “No. You used the phrase correctly. Don’t worry, though. We’ve been careful.”

  “What does careful mean in this context? Does the act cause injury?”

  For once, Karen was caught off-guard. “It means he—we…” She trailed off, turning red as she tried to explain.

  ***

  “What did you say again?” asked Matthew incredulously.

  “Your father has been arrested for the murder of Prince Leomund,” repeated Lynaralla. She was lying on a bed in one of the guest rooms within Castle Lancaster. Her minor injuries had been treated, but her body was still exhausted.

  “That’s impossible,” protested Matthew.

  “Those are the charges,” said Lynaralla flatly. “Lady Rose sent me to tell you. She wants Karen to come to the capital.”

  “Just Karen?” he asked, puzzled. “Explain what’s going on.”

  This was one occasion when Lynaralla’s patience and literal nature were a definite advantage as she carefully and meticulously explained everything she knew. With her perfect memory, she was able to replay events in her mind and give Matthew Rose’s explanation and message word for word.

  “And she wants Moira to stay away from the city,” muttered Matthew, ruminating on what he had heard. “I can see how that makes sense. Sending you and Irene here also helps to keep you out of harm’s way.”

  “What do you think she needs
me for?” wondered Karen.

  Matt smiled grimly. “That’s easy. Your gift makes you ideal for getting an escaped prisoner to safety. I’m afraid you’ll need to go to Albamarl alone. Meet with Rose and do whatever she asks.”

  “Why can’t you come?” asked Karen.

  “Someone has to be here to open the way for you when you return. I’ll be camped out where we first entered until you show up with her and Father.”

  Karen frowned. “In the middle of nowhere? Why?”

  “Where’s the best place to hide a prisoner from the Queen?” asked Matthew, before answering his own question. “In a castle tucked into a hidden dimension. No one can reach him here, and even if Roland returns, he wouldn’t turn him over to his sister.”

  Karen seemed uncomfortable. “How long do you think we can keep up what we’ve been doing here? Last night there were more spiders than ever.”

  “Spiders?” asked Lynaralla.

  “Big ones,” said Karen emphatically.

  “Ever since we arrived, they’ve been showing up at night, trying to climb over the walls,” explained Matthew.

  “I have nightmares thinking about what will happen if one sneaks in,” added Karen. “Can’t we just take him back to Washbrook? Even if the castle isn’t habitable, you said the shield enchantment is strong enough to keep out anything.”

  “They’ll lay siege to the town if he tries to hide there. Eventually people will starve, and that’s not even considering the damage to the farmers and people in the surrounding areas. Even if we were successful somehow, it would turn into a civil war. I doubt my father would countenance the loss of life that would entail,” explained Matthew. “This place is ideal for avoiding those problems.”

  “What about the people here?” reminded Karen. “We’ve been protecting them until Roland comes back. Are they willing to stay, or should we try and get them back to Lothion?”

  Matthew looked pensive, but after a moment he replied, “We can give them a choice, if it comes to that. For now, I’ll keep this to myself.”

  “What about me?” asked Lynaralla.

  Karen gave her a stern look. “You’ll be staying in that bed until you’re better.”

  “My injuries are minor,” said Lynaralla. “I will be fine within a day or two.”

  “Irene won’t,” Matthew stated firmly. “She’ll be stuck in bed for a couple of weeks, at least. You can stay here with her and help us defend the castle while Karen is gone.”

  “How soon should I leave?” asked Karen.

  “Now,” returned Matthew.

  She didn’t look pleased. “You seem anxious to be rid of me.”

  “You know better than that.”

  Karen sighed. “Fine.” She held out one hand. “You’ll have to open the boundary for me.”

  He nodded. “After you go, I’ll start watching for you tomorrow. I’ll only be out there in the morning and early afternoon. At night I’ll return here to help with the spiders, so if you get him free at some other time, wait somewhere else until you know I’ll be there.”

  “Alright,” said Karen, then she closed her eyes and lifted her chin.

  Matt glanced at Lynaralla. “Not again.”

  Opening one eye, Karen stared at him. “You have to pay the ferryman.”

  “This is your trip. I’m just coming to open the boundary. Why do I have to pay?”

  “It’s for your family,” insisted Karen.

  Matthew released an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” Taking her hand, he dragged her into the corridor. “If you’re going to be childish, then the hallway is better.” Once he was certain they were alone, he kissed her soundly, and then they were gone.

  Chapter 28

  It was late afternoon before Chad and Cyhan returned to the Green Pony. They had spent the afternoon reclaiming their weapons and fine-tuning their marksmanship.

  Once they were in their shared room, alone, Cyhan voiced his complaint about his bow again. “It’s too light.”

  Chad frowned. “It’s nearly a hundred-pound draw weight. You can’t find a heavier bow unless you want to wait half a year for a custom-made warbow. Besides, it’ll be easier for you to aim if you aren’t dealin’ with a monster bow.”

  He had been impressed with the big man’s aim. Cyhan’s skill had been more than adequate, but he was no master bowman. Chad figured his friend could manage one, perhaps two well-aimed shots before the chaos of battle would force him to switch tactics. Giving him a heavier bow would only slow him down.

  “Just don’t miss that first shot,” the hunter reminded him. “I’ll handle the rest from there. You’ll need to keep the guards off my back after all hell breaks loose.”

  “No need to keep repeating yourself,” said Cyhan. “I’d rather hear a practical exit strategy.”

  “I don’t have one,” admitted Chad. “As it stands now, this is a suicide mission. Our contact left a note for me downstairs, though. Apparently our ‘employer’ has an expert she wants us to meet with, someone that can get us out even with a swarm of angry mages chasin’ our hairy asses.”

  “It seems unlikely such a person could exist,” observed Cyhan, “if Tyrion’s krytek are all over the city. With two archmages and Conall guarding him, along with the Royal Guard, which will probably include Sir Harold…” His voice trailed off. “If you have any loved ones, make sure to leave them a long letter.”

  Chad grimaced. “Most of them are friends of ours, or Mort’s at least. It ain’t that bleak. Some of them may freeze up, or refuse to act at all.”

  “Gareth and Tyrion won’t freeze,” countered Cyhan. “Both are killers, and Tyrion’s krytek are bred for battle. Even if the rest fail to act, we have little hope. Our first attack must be decisive.”

  “Ya mean fatal,” said the hunter.

  The big warrior nodded. “Our employer is highly intelligent, but she is no warrior. Her compassion has clouded her judgment. If we follow her plan to the letter, we die.”

  “We’ll probably die anyway, or wish we had.”

  “In that case, at least we will have removed some of Mordecai’s most dangerous competitors. Whatever happens after, he will have a stronger hand to play,” said Cyhan, his eyes glinting coldly.

  Chad sighed. He agreed with Sir Cyhan, but he knew it wouldn’t be so easy to kill men he had shared drinks with in the not so distant past. He could do it, but he wouldn’t like it. “Fine, which one do you want?”

  Cyhan told him and Chad Grayson smiled. “I would have felt bad killin’ him. That leaves me the one I can’t stand anyway, the smug bastard.” Whatever else happened, he figured Penny would approve of his target, wherever she was in the great beyond.

  ***

  That evening they met their third accomplice, the man who would supposedly make it possible for them to escape after their dirty deeds.

  The greybeard that sat down at their table was the epitome of the term ‘old-timer.’ Chad winced and exchanged glances with Cyhan. The man was so skinny and frail that it was painful just watching him ease into his seat across from them.

  The stranger grinned, displaying a smile that was missing several teeth. “You boys look like the capable sort. I hear you’re planning some murder and mayhem!” His voice was filled with an odd enthusiasm.

  Alarmed, Chad leaned forward to put his hand on the newcomer’s forearm. “Listen, mister, we shouldn’t be talkin’ about things like that here out in the open.”

  The old man glanced around hurriedly, then answered in a conspiratorial whisper, “Oh yeah! Of course. We should adjourn to someplace quieter to plan our jailbreak.”

  “Shhh!” warned Chad, glaring at the man. “Shut up, ya demented old geezer.” Even the man’s behavior was suspicious. Other patrons were beginning to look in the direction of their table, sensing something of interest.

  The old
man giggled. “Mum’s the word.” He closed his mouth, but his eyes darted back and forth between them with a delighted enthusiasm that made Chad’s hand itch for his knife. It was clear that Manfred had lost his mind sending them the has-been that sat in front of them.

  Chad and Cyhan’s eyes met, and the big man nodded. Speaking calmly, Chad made a suggestion, “Why don’t we all take a walk? I know a better place to talk.” Leaving a few coins on the table, he rose to his feet. The others followed suit.

  The ranger led his companions on a long, rambling walk until he had found a quiet, dark alley where they were unlikely to be observed. Cyhan took his cue and stood behind the stranger as Chad turned and slid his long knife from its sheath. “Sorry about this, old-timer, but I’m gonna have to terminate yer employment with us.”

  The old man’s eyes went wide with shock, and then he vanished.

  Chad blinked. The man hadn’t darted away or seemed to move at all. He had simply disappeared, as though he had never been there at all. “What the hell?”

  Cyhan’s response was more direct. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and struck out. His fist connected with something. A second later, the old man reappeared, lying on the ground in obvious pain.

  Reaching for his back, the old man rubbed it. “That was my kidney, you jerk!” It wasn’t the old man’s voice that reached them, however—it was that of a young woman, a voice they knew.

  “Elaine?” said Chad querulously.

  “Who else would it be?” she answered angrily.

  Putting his knife away, Chad ran his fingers through his hair in agitation. “I dunno? Anyone else, that’s what I was thinkin’!”

  Cyhan chuckled, then bent down to help the old man regain his feet. “That was a risky game, Elaine. If I hadn’t thought it might be you, it would have been a blade in your kidney instead of my knuckles.”

 

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