Will (Book 2)

by S. F. Burgess

  Freddie, get their attention, Conlan ordered.

  Are you sure about this? Freddie asked. Using gunpowder to get their attention will alert the entire tower to your presence… and there are only three of you…

  We discussed this, Conlan snapped. The tower doors need to be opened from the inside; how else are we going to get in? If I use my Avatar energy to force my way in, it will make just as much noise. Plus, none of you have the strength right now to replenish what I would use, and I’m going to need it.

  Well, I’ve been thinking about it, Freddie said, and Will could hear the grin in his voice. I have an idea. Give me a few minutes and stand back from the doors, okay?

  You people are seriously undisciplined, Conlan muttered in Dwarfish before switching back to English. Very well, Freddie, you have until the count of a hundred and twenty.

  Wondering what Freddie was up to, Will watched the doors, listening to Conlan count slowly in his head. At first nothing happened, and then he noticed that the metal in the doors was glowing. The hinges—Freddie is heating the hinges! By the time Conlan had counted to seventy, the six hinge points, three on each door, were glowing white hot, the metal starting to run, splashing and hissing onto the cold stone steps below. Through their connection, Will could feel Freddie straining and focusing the heat down on the six small points. His control is truly impressive. As these support points started to disintegrate, the doors began to lean in towards the tower from the top of the frame. Anticipating the doors falling at any moment, Will drew his arrow, aiming for human head height, assuming there would be men on the other side.

  Seconds later, the ancient, heavy wooden doors creaked and crashed to the ground, revealing twenty or so men behind, who jumped back to avoid being crushed as the door fell towards them. Will and Mickle had already put arrows through the eyes, throats and hearts of five of them before the soldiers even got over the shock. Under attack but not knowing where from, their tower breached and no door to hide behind, the men panicked. Half of them ran out into the courtyard to face their enemy, and the other half ran back into the tower to find shelter from the arrows.

  Will, you and Mickle get the Protectors in the courtyard, Conlan ordered. We’re going into the tower. While sighting down an arrow, Will saw Conlan slip through the open mouth of the tower, followed by Teris and Elroy.

  And Freddie, Conlan added as he disappeared into the dark interior, that was genius!

  Freddie’s pride briefly flashed through their connection before they addressed the task in front of them. The Protectors who had run into the courtyard had clearly expected to meet a large force and were surprised to find the courtyard empty. Will and Mickle had reduced the Protectors down to six before any of them realised they needed to look up. But once they figured it out, the survivors were quick to act. While the arrival of the balloons had been a surprise, the fact that they existed was clearly not. As a group they turned and ran back to the open door of the tower, weaving backwards and forwards as they did, making themselves very hard targets, and, much to Will’s chagrin, five of them made it back inside.

  Conlan, Will said. Five Protectors from the courtyard made it back inside and are coming up behind you. Watch out!

  Wonderful, Conlan replied, his voice strained even in their heads. Floating above the empty courtyard, Will realised the huge flaw in their plan: they needed more men on the ground once the initial attack was over.

  “Amelia,” Will called up above him. “Drop the balloon. Conlan is going to need our help.”

  “That’s not the plan…” Amelia’s voice said from above him.

  “Which is why we’re not having this conversation through the connection! As you are well aware, battle is fluid and plans change. Get us on the ground, now!”

  “No, it’s not safe down there,” Amelia said.

  Will felt his anger start to rise, but made the effort to keep his voice calm. “Amelia, lower this balloon into the courtyard and help me, or I will cut through this harness and get out myself!”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “Freddie, Will and I are going to help Conlan,” Amelia yelled across to him in English. “Can you lower the balloon?”

  “If you go, Mickle and I are going to be floating target practice,” Freddie pointed out, his voice distant. “I can’t move these things; I just make them go up and down! We’ll have to come with you.”

  “The more the merrier,” Will said, irritated by the delay while they discussed it. The balloons started to descend and Will began fumbling at his harness with cold fingers. He jumped the last few feet to the flagstones of the courtyard, which was still eerily quiet. He took a moment to remove the extra layers of clothing that would hamper him when he needed to fight, then cut loose the bow and a full quiver from the harness and slipped them both over his shoulder. He ensured that his sword was in easy reach before helping Amelia out of her harness. Once the four of them were free of the balloons and armed, they tied down the balloons and Will led them towards the entrance to the tower.

  Conlan, the four of us are on the ground and coming to help you, Will said, expecting a stinging rebuke for changing the plans.

  It would appear, Conlan said, that the captains and sergeants of the Protectors no longer eat with their men as they did when I was a child. Help would be appreciated, but best hurry or you will be helping corpses!

  We’re coming; where are you? Will asked, breaking into a run, bounding up the steps and over the fallen door, followed by the others.

  The first level of the dungeons, Conlan told him. The Protectors’ mess hall.

  Will ran through the cold, badly lit stone building, silently thanking Conlan for insisting they all memorise the precise layout of the tower.

  Conlan, we’ve only found two Enforcers, Eleanor said. Arran says there should be three, so there’s possibly another in the tower somewhere. We drained, tied up and sedated these two—they were quite amenable once Davlin had a chat with them. Arran, Davlin and I can help you too, if you want. Maybe we could start building our energy back up as well?

  If you can build your energy up as you all move and fight, I’ve got no objections. Eleanor, I need you to find the Lords. Capture them if you can, and contain them if you can’t, Conlan ordered.

  They met no resistance as they raced through the vast, dark entrance hall, flung open the correct door and descended down a long steep staircase into the bowels of the tower. Turning left at the bottom of the stairs, they ran down the corridor and stepped through the remains of a heavy metal gateway that had appeared to have been blasted repeatedly until it fell apart. The burnt, bloody evidence of Conlan’s energy releases was spread all the way down the corridor.

  Moving forwards, they passed many open doors, revealing big cell-like rooms that Will knew were used as Protectors’ sleeping quarters. Will caught flashes of the large number of writhing, moaning bodies that lay within these rooms, the rank smell of excrement filling the air. They stepped over many other unconscious, foul-smelling bodies as they moved farther down the corridor, and the sounds of yelling and steel clashing against steel met their ears.

  When they arrived at the Protectors’ mess, a room designed to seat and feed over two hundred men at once, it looked like a battlefield, with bodies strewn all about. While Will knew that most of the bodies were still alive, it was still disconcerting to see them lying across the floor, tables and benches.

  In the middle of the room the furniture and bodies had been shoved aside to clear a space. Here Conlan and Elroy fought back to back, surrounded by a horde of well-armed men, the deafening noise amplified as it echoed off the stone walls and the vaulted ceiling high above.

  These can’t all be captains; who else are we fighting? Will asked.

  Captains, sergeants, Protectors who don’t eat and drink—I don’t know! Conlan replied. We need help. I used most of my energy getting in here, plus you may have noticed the bodies in the hallway, and then clearing a space we could fight in.
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  The dead and dying lay around them, but Will could see that Conlan’s fighting style was restricted by his need to ensure Elroy was coping. There were exploded and burnt bodies lying around them, mostly next to the door leading into the room. There were no orders required here; as Will, Freddie, Amelia and Mickle surveyed the situation before them, abilities honed over years of careful, patient training enabled them to assess in seconds and react with swift, brutal force. Amelia moved first. Using the limited energy she had left, she flung the stragglers at the back of the mêlée out of the way and into the room’s stone walls, making sure that none of them would be getting up again in a hurry.

  Then they turned to engage the enemy.

  Daratus

  By the time the enemy realised reinforcements had arrived, it was too late for them. Hacking his way through the men that turned, horrified, to face him, Will moved, one fallen body at a time, closer to Conlan and Elroy. The battle was brutal, their enemy fighting with frenzied desperation and all the skill at their disposal, which, Will lamented, was not much. Worried for Amelia, knowing how little energy she currently carried, Will surreptitiously stole glances whenever he could and caught glimpses of the quick, sure-footed, unflinching combat style that she demonstrated. Once the fighting started she was as fast, intelligent, cunning and ruthless as Conlan had trained them all to be, with the added advantage of being able to fling her enemies across the room and batter them with her shield when the opportunity presented itself and her energy levels allowed.

  Will ducked a sword swung at his head and thrust his own weapon up into the chest of his attacker. As the man fell with a burbling groan, another took his place, and Will came face to face with someone he recognised.

  “Cai?” Will asked, staring at the huge man in front of him, ignoring the wave of exhaustion that came when he lowered his sword and the adrenaline slowed slightly.

  “So much for Conlan Baydon’s belief in life!” Cai spat, looking at the pitched battle waging around them.

  “Surrender,” Will urged. “Stop fighting. Trust us.” Cai’s intelligent brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Or fight us to your death if you wish,” Will shrugged. “But understand, this is not what we want.”

  Cai watched another man fall, screaming, blood spraying, Freddie’s sword having nearly severed his right arm. The Avatar of Fire was enraged, and Will was very glad the fighting was too close-quarters to give Freddie the option of releasing what remained of his small amount of energy.

  Disgust and regret on his face, Cai nodded and dropped his weapon with a clatter. Moving stiffly, he knelt at Will’s feet.

  “I surrender!”

  Cai’s voice boomed through the room and the battle slowed as surprise and then defeat took the fight out of the other nine men still standing. One by one they followed Cai, dropping their swords and falling to their knees.

  His eyes hard, blood dripping from a deep gash across his thigh, Conlan accepted their surrender. Ripping a strip from the bottom of his shirt, Will knelt at Conlan’s side and gave his leg injury a hurried binding.

  “What do we do with them now?” Freddie asked in Dwarfish.

  “What we intended to do with them in the first place: we lock them in the dungeons,” Conlan said, as Will struggled back to his feet and did a quick visual check of everyone. Conlan gave him a nod of thanks. “Does anyone else need treatment?” he asked. Will shook his head, trying to hide how breathless he felt. “Good,” Conlan continued. Looking around, puzzled, he added, “Has anybody seen Teris?”

  “He ran, when we first encountered the enemy!” Elroy spat, embarrassment creeping up his face in a strong red flush. “I am ashamed to call him family.”

  A frown creased Conlan’s forehead, but he said nothing.

  They marched their prisoners back down the corridor towards the steps that gave them access to the deeper level of the dungeons.

  “Did you poison all our men?” Cai asked Conlan as they walked back down the corridor, flashing Will a bitter, angry glance upon seeing the bodies inside the Protectors’ sleeping quarters, some still writhing and moaning.

  “I certainly hope so,” Conlan replied.

  “Coward!” Cai spat at him.

  Walking in front of their prisoners with Freddie, Elroy spun round and shouldered an astonished Cai into the rough stone wall of the corridor, kicking his legs out from underneath him. Cai slid down the wall and Elroy positioned the point of his knife under the big man’s chin.

  “Conlan Baydon just attacked the North Tower with only ten men. He is no coward. And he did it with as little loss of life as possible,” Elroy snapped, fury making him sound far older than his years. “Your men are not dead, merely incapacitated while we deal with the Lords, after which the Protectors themselves will get to decide whether they wish to join us or walk away.”

  The surprise did not leave Cai’s face as he looked up at Elroy, but when he spoke he turned his head to address Conlan.

  “You have loyal men.”

  Before Conlan could answer, a response came from one of the captured men.

  “He does not have ‘loyal men’, he has a collection of women and children!”

  “Shut up, Alvers!” Cai snapped, glowering at him, before turning back to Conlan. “Our men are not dead… you wanted a way to keep them out of the fight without killing them… thank you.”

  “Elroy, Cai has surrendered to us,” Conlan said, his low tone an order. “And as such, he is accorded certain care. You have made your point; now let him up, please.”

  Elroy nodded, re-sheathed his knife and offered Cai a hand up. Cai took it with a smile that Elroy returned before he realised what he was doing and a cold, suspicious look took its place, which only made Cai’s grin grow wider.

  Conlan watched the large man thoughtfully. “Cai, it would appear that your previous meeting with us has granted you a promotion. I do not recall you being a captain the last time we met.”

  “I am impressed that you remember anything from the last time we met beyond the pain,” Cai replied, and Will distinctly heard the faint rumbling growl of apology under the words. “It was not a happy promotion. My father took the blame for your escape; you will find him in the dungeons below with Daman, assuming they still live. I was promoted to fill his place.” Cai’s voice was a flat, emotionless monotone, and Will felt a swell of pity for the man.

  “Perhaps that is an injustice we can set right,” Conlan said.

  The farther they walked, the more Will’s body let him know he was asking too much of it. His back, arms and legs ached and a grinding pain was starting up behind his eyes. And Will knew he was not the only one struggling. Walking at the back, trying to hide it, Conlan limped on his injured leg, pain and fatigue leaving him pale in the flickering firelight of the sconces that lit the corridor. Next to him, Mickle walked with the careful, rigid steps of an injured man, although he had made no complaint and Will could see no blood. For all his bluster Elroy moved slowly, looking spent. Will wondered when their captives were going to realise the state they were in and try to overpower them. Conlan staggered and Will caught him, struggling to hold him up without making it obvious he was doing so.

  Eleanor… Conlan whispered, horror in his eyes, his already pale face stark white. Concentrating, Will felt the faint echo of Eleanor’s pain as she was forcibly wrenched from their connection.

  She’s in trouble—we need to hu— Conlan’s comment was cut off by a huge roaring noise from far above, accompanied by a trembling though the stones of the tower. Dust and mortar rained down on them. Terrified, their captives crouched on the floor, cowering against the wall as a second huge explosion shook the tower to its foundations.

  “Freddie! You, Mickle and Amelia, get our captives into the dungeons,” Will ordered in Dwarfish made harsher than normal by his anxiety. “Elroy, you are coming with Conlan and me.”

  “You need all the men you have,” Cai said. “You cannot spare the time to take us below. You can lock us i
n any one of these Protectors’ sleeping quarters; they used to be cells, too—the doors have bolts on the outside. Close one of the doors and you will see,” Cai said.

  “Traitor!” Alvers hissed.

  Cai smiled. “No, I am making a choice. Besides, you cannot be a traitor to a cause you never believed in.”

  Freddie hustled their captives into the nearest room and Will did not envy them the smell. Finally managing to stand without assistance, Conlan put a hand on Cai’s chest, stopping him from following the others, holding the man’s gaze for a moment before he spoke.

  “As you pointed out, I need all the men I can get. Will you join us?”

  Cai stared at him. “You would trust me?”

  Conlan shrugged. “Until you give me reason not to—yes.”

  “That sort of thinking will get you killed,” Cai observed.

  Conlan gave him a sly smile. “As my enemies keep discovering, I am rather hard to kill.”

  Cai laughed. “A very useful quality in a leader. Yes, Conlan Baydon. I will join you.”

  They moved as swiftly as possible towards the upper levels of the tower, making for the direction the few servants they passed seemed to be running from. The Lords’ quarters were opulent, especially in comparison to the cold, rough, stone walls and worn flagstones of the Protectors’ living area. Fine art adorned the walls, lit by large, elaborate, free-standing, brass candelabras, and their feet sank into the thick carpet. So this is where Mydren’s wealth goes. As they got closer, the extensive destruction the two explosions had caused became evident. Smoke filled the corridor, the walls were streaked in black, and in some places small fires still burned among the debris. At the end of the corridor, two huge, beautifully carved doors hung off their hinges, blown into the smoke-filled room beyond, the wood scorched and pitted.