by Anton Le Roy
An impatient wave of the hand momentarily flits into view. “My plans have changed, Tolvik. The final treasure ain’t worth the hassle, if our contacts even found it, the shady arses.”
“Then we have enough magical items, High Brother Satipo?”
A pinch to the bridge of his nose indicates that even Satipo gets frustrated with Tolvik at times. “Yep, more than enough, so it’s time to put things in motion. We’ve dallied long enough as it is, lads.”
There is a murmur of excitement amongst the priests.
“The final days are almost upon us!” exclaims Tolvik.
Final days?
“That’s right, guys, so I need ya back here, pronto.” Satipo clicks his fingers a few times to make his point. “Oh, and Tolvik? Don’t question me again, or the will of our Mother, especially in front of ya buddies. We got an understanding, yeah?”
Tolvik acts like he’s been struck a body blow and all his previous excitement has dissipated. He bows deeply to hide his shame. “My deepest apologies, High Brother Satipo. May Mother forgive me. We’ll return, forthwith.”
“Good, that’s more like it.” Satipo looks like he’s going to disappear from the window and then he pauses. “Oh, and what about Veteran and Gregor?”
Suddenly my heart starts beating hard enough to burst out of my chest.
“Dealt with as instructed, High Brother Satipo,” responds Vim.
Satipo nods thoughtfully. “Good... Well done.”
And that’s that. ‘Good, well done?’ That’s his reaction to the knowledge that we’re both dead? Damn, it stings! A deep fucking disappointment. A bitter heartache. Our old pal hates us that much? Strange thing is it makes me want to see him even more now. Just to try and explain things and to understand him better. Fuck, just thinking about all those good moments we had together and now this is how it is! Bet Gregor feels the same way.
Meanwhile, all five priests provide a farewell bow to their High Brother.
With that, Satipo waves a hand and the magic mirror wobbles and begins to evaporate into a black dissipating mist. Before it goes entirely I stand up and intentionally catch Satipo’s attention. His eyes widen in acknowledgement and then the mirror is gone before he can say a word.
Vim, Tolvik and the others are about to walk into the Travel Circle when they pause to the sound of my sword escaping its scabbard. Tolvik glances over his shoulder and his mouth drops in comical surprise. I have no idea what Vim’s face does, assuming he has one. It’s nice to imagine that what face he does have is also a picture of befuddlement. I couldn’t give a shit about the other three nobodies.
We walk forward, Gregor hefting his big old axe next to me. I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me as I recall what these two arseholes did in Awl. It will be most satisfying to make them bleed in return. “Before you leave, I think we need to have a little catch up,” I call.
Vim quickly raises one hand but he doesn’t zap us, it’s more of a warning, so, we comply and don’t move any closer.
Can feel Gregor bristling with rage. “You two shit stains are gonna pay for what you did to the people of Awl.”
Tolvik slowly wears an expression of arrogant humour. He’s not too concerned. He wants this. Wants to show us what he’s made of and that’s just what I’m counting on, to delay them from using that Travel Circle.
He shakes his head like a disapproving school master. “Such hypocrisy. Did you not perform awful acts during your time in the Red Dogs? High Brother Satipo regaled us of such revealing anecdotes.”
I shut off the images that threaten to rise to the surface of my mind. Bastard is right and those ghosts still haunt me. Still, I try to find a way to excuse those regrets. “We were soldiers.”
“As are we,” states Tolvik.
“What you did was evil.”
“I disagree. Obviously. Our actions were out of kindness and in the name of our Mother.”
“Kindness?” My laughter is cold. “You hide evil deeds behind religion.”
“It’s our religion that guides our hand. Death was preferable for those people. Soon, our Mother shall wipe all of their kind from the face of the world anyway.”
“I don’t care what false prophecies your cult has cooked up.”
“Then you’ll live in ignorance until Mother comes for you.”
Baring my teeth I spit, “I’ll look forward to meeting the bitch.”
That causes the three goon priests to hiss in anger. A scowl from Tolvik and I sense he’s ready to fight. Good.
“I’m getting bored now,” I honestly add, waving my sword, “Can we just get on with this please?”
Tolvik twitches as if about to move.
“Brother Tolvik,” mutters Vim, hand still raised, head turned to face his comrade who pauses from moving, “We cannot involve ourselves in this now. High Brother Satipo requested our immediate return.” And you’re running out of juice aren’t you, mage? You’re right to worry.
Tolvik ignores him, his focus on us entirely, eyes glistening with the prospect of getting his hands dirty. While we try to stare each other out I know he wants the opportunity to take us down. Come on!
“Come on, you pussies!” roars Gregor, itching to fight.
“Brother Tolvik!” Vim hisses, snapping Tolvik out of his reverie.
Finally the man answers. “Think for a moment, Brother Vim. How can we return when we know that these two still live? How can we stand before High Brother Satipo and inform him that we failed to dispose of them as instructed? I will do no such thing, my brother.”
“Good, now get on with it!” I goad.
The grey silk cloak moves as Vim turns his head back towards us while he considers this. Then, “You are quite correct, Brother Tolvik, my apologies. As the failure was mine, let me make amends.”
I spot the flash of annoyance on Tolvik’s face before the flash of shadow magic erupts at our feet and we’re slapped backwards amidst a hail of broken stone, earth and ice. Well, we did ask for it. While we hadn’t been able to move quickly enough to completely avoid the blast we moved enough to considerably lessen the blow. Also, it didn’t seem anywhere near as strong as the last time we were blasted. That said, my head is still spinning as I scramble to my feet and dive for cover behind a fallen pillar to dodge another magical hit. I guess he has a bit more juice left than I’d anticipated, damn it!
Stone shrapnel clatters the area. Before we can relax we have to dart to one side again as that cover is shattered into more broken pieces. We’re a good couple of hundred feet from the priests: no way for us to reach them and attack. Instead, while we run, frantically ducking and diving behind anything that can momentarily shield us, the Twins sneak up on Vim from behind. Just as planned.
“Kill them!” I shout.
He realises too late. Their weapons hammer against his outstretched shrouded arms and I expect instant amputation. Doesn’t happen. Instead there are metallic clangs and the arms remain intact, much to the Twin’s surprise, and even strikes to the rest of the body have the same result. Those blows still seem to hurt, however, because he cries out in pain, a sound not unlike sliding dry shingle, and he stumbles backwards trying to fend off more attacks from the four swords with just his arms.
While we take the opportunity to run towards Tolvik, the box of armour is dropped in the Travel Circle and the three faceless Newborn produce long dark Kriss blades. Two men and one woman (who looks just as solid as her two comrades). In truth, these three look like nothing more than bruisers lacking any of the wit and intelligence usually akin to any normal priest. Hired thugs brainwashed to the cause?
Tolvik is unmoved. “My brothers and sister, assist Brother Vim. Meanwhile, I’ll deal with these two reprobates.”
Finally. Time to see what you’re made of!
He’s calm as me and Gregor charge him. Casually walking towards us he wields his dual swords, the blades oily black as they shimmer in the light. The thick grey cloak is shrugged off to reveal his all grey li
ght amour over dark clothing. Suddenly, at the last moment before we can attack, he twirls his swords about himself in a flurry of loops and twirls and blocks my sword and Gregor’s axe with ease. Flicks of the wrist and he’s behind our defences in two steps. An elbow to my midriff and a kick to the back of Gregor’s knee sends us both staggering. Shit! Could have just as easily gutted me and severed Gregor’s leg. He’s toying with us! I won’t let him do that a second time.
Tolvik twirls those swords as he smiles coldly. “I can do this all day.”
Me, “Something I’ve learned about arrogant people: death comes to them in the most surprising of ways.”
A cool response with a tilt of the head. “Then surprise me.”
Tolvik has speed and technique in abundance and we’ve met swordsmen of equal talent and still won. Not going to let this whoreson be the one that puts me down for good!
We wade in, more cautious this time. Once again his spinning blades turn us aside. Chuckles while he casually walks around us, swords hanging loose, not even bothering to hold them in a defensive or attacking stance. I’m not going to fall for that old trick.
Meanwhile, a clumsy zap of Vim’s magic and one Twin, can’t tell which, cartwheels through the air, crashing into a deep drift of snow. Momentarily distracted by that, Sain (or is it Saim?) is thrown aside by a weak flash of black to her midriff. Vim lurches to one knee, cradling his arms against his chest in obvious agony and exhaustion. The other three goons are down on the ground, unmoving.
“Brother… Tolvik!” he calls, breathing heavily.
We’re too close to Tolvik for Vim to use his magic and by the looks of it I don’t think he has much left in him anyway. During that pause we hear a noise from deep in the city: howls and lots of them. That’s not good! I hadn’t realised that clouds had moved in and blocked the sun, plunging the world into a dull gloom; enough sunlight to allow a creature of the night to make a bold appearance.
All of us pause and glance around expecting to see a tidal wave of Vamonkeys pouring towards us. That’s just paranoia; from the sound of it they’re still quite far away and we have time to finish this. I just hope they’re not as fast as real vampires.
“It appears that our grisly friends are returning,” Tolvik calmly comments. “I must warn you, those beasts are quite terrible in their capacity for violence. We struggled to hold them at bay even with a small army.”
“We call them Vamonkeys,” points out Gregor.
Tolvik cocks a head to one side with a frown. “What a ridiculous name for such a fearsome creature.”
Gregor shrugs indifferently.
Me, “If you’re expecting us to run in fear then we’re going to have to disappoint you.” Not gonna let him get to the Travel Circle. Maybe Vim will escape but at least we can take this bastard down.
Tolvik seems to appreciate that response by attacking me and Gregor in sudden full force, almost taking us by surprise. “Brother Vim! Use the Travel Circle and go! Take the pipe! Leave me to clean up this mess.”
Despite concentrating too much on Tolvik’s blurred swords to watch what Vim is doing I sense momentary hesitation.
“No, Brother Tolvik… I cannot leave you!”
“Brother Vim, you must!” he parries multiple attacks with relative ease and one swipe of a sword almost opens my throat, damn it! He’s not playing around any longer. “You’re in no condition for this fight. You must return the pipe to High Brother Satipo forthwith.” The howl of the Vamonkeys increases. “Go!”
Running footsteps and battle cries from the Twins as they charge at Vim. From the corner of my eye I see that Vim collapses weakly into the circle. “I shall return for you, Brother Tolvik.” And then he and the treasure box are gone in a splash of destabilized magic.
“Well now,” says Tolvik, “Is this not exciting?”
He’s right, it is actually, and I grin at that while the four of us circle the deadly priest. Gotta admit, if I were in the same position I’d be doing the same thing. He’s got nothing to lose now and the impending arrival of the Vamonkeys is a helpful distraction for him.
Me, “Tell me where Satipo is, if he’s in Broken Naile, and we can all leave before those things turn up and we end up a grisly buffet.”
Him, “Oh, Veteran, you must already acknowledge that I cannot do such a treacherous thing.”
“You’d rather go down in a moment of glory, right?”
A gleeful smile. “Indeed. Such a death would make Mother proud.”
“Then let’s send you to her,” snarls Gregor. “In pieces!”
Four against one. Six blades against two. Two old veterans and two young geniuses against one highly skilled warrior. Even he shouldn’t have a chance against us.
And yet…
He does.
Before we even take a unified step towards him, before we can even swing a blade, I taste it in my mouth. Magic. Sneaky shit. Shadow smoke floods from his hands, around his hilts and up his arms into his shoulders. Then he twirls. Black blades flash out along with four tendrils of shadow smoke. My mind registers for a brief moment that the magic reminds me of Vim’s own spells. Are they the same source of magic used in different ways?
Those pesky solidified vines get in the way, blocking blows and punching out at our bodies. They’re quick too, like snapping snakes. I get a swipe across the cheek. Hadn’t bothered to get out of the way because in my head it’s still just smoke, damned idiot! The slap sends me reeling and I have to recover in time before Tolvik guts me. Bastard has arms like a damned octopus! Now it’s six blades against six. Can’t get close to him. Can’t get much of a blow apart from the odd nick to his limbs or torso. Trouble is, me and Gregor are getting the same back too.
More howls, getting closer. We don’t have long at all.
The Twins are moving as fast as I’ve ever seen and it’s still not enough to get past those tendrils using their length like arms: a block with an elbow and an attack with the hand. In that way, the four tendrils are acting more like eight limbs and the Twins are probably up against the brunt of that.
They came here to protect us because they were told we would need help against greater forces. Was the Coyote that told them. Why? What’s it playing at? And how did it know we’d need help? I must admit, had it not sent these kids here we wouldn’t have gotten past Vim and probably not defeated Tolvik either. And still we’re struggling.
What I thought was a blade ends up being a tentacle and therefore what I thought I only needed to block the once ends ups needing blocking twice. Thing is I’m not fast enough for that: already committed in my follow through too. As a result I get a clout around the head with the sting of a cut above one ear. Head ringing. Stumbling sideways into Gregor’s path. In my daze I mentally thank Gregor for altering the swing of his axe. Would’ve taken my head off if not. Bad side to that is he’s now off kilter too and Tolvik seizes the opportunity to devastating effect.
A black blade slices into Gregor’s side and he goes down hard. Tolvik is then able to slip inside the Twin’s defences and with too many tentacles and blades to contend with both girls are overwhelmed and hammered to the ground.
I don’t last much longer when my sword is suddenly pinging out of my hand and falling to the floor. Blood is pooling into my ear and down my neck and my vision still dizzy from the head knock. Must have been quite a wallop he gave me.
“You move well for an old man,” Tolvik informs me pleasantly. The cocky sod is barely out of breath. “As does your friend. He reminds me of a sleepy old bear woken from his den.” A black blade tip appears under my chin while the four tendrils snake about in case someone attack him from behind. “The girls however are quite spectacular. Their Death Dance is raw but beautiful. I wonder how they learned such a rare thing. With the right tutelage they would become unstoppable, even for me.”
Ignoring him I start wondering what weapon I’ll pull next, maybe Fussby’s rapier or one of my knives, when suddenly there is an almighty howl and a hug
e Vamonkey comes crashing into view. It bounds straight for us with a bloodcurdling roar, seemingly uninterested in the others. Unsurprising that it’s also just as pissed off with this priest. Tolvik is momentarily distracted by this terrifying sight, so for good measure I put a boot into his chest to push him away from me and then I dive for the relative safety of a nearby pile of ice and snow. He regains his composure just in time to stick his dual swords out in front of him before the galloping Vamonkey gathers him up in its arms. Unfortunately for the creature that with all its speed it impales itself on Tolvik’s swords when it crunches into him. They both crash into deep snow and slide towards the edge of the garden, where the bulk of the Vamonkey smashes through the surrounding wall that reveals nothing but air and, far down below, the frothing cold waters of Haerger Lake. There they stop, almost hanging over the precipice. The Vamonkey isn’t moving, confirming that they can be killed as easy as any other mortal creature.
Gregor has sat up and stuffed a big ball of fabric into his wounded ribs. Looks bad. Blood is splattered onto the white ground all around him like dark seeds. “Is the fucker dead?” he rasps through gritted teeth.
“Dunno,” I pick my sword and lurch towards Tolvik, my head still spinning wildly, “Let’s go make sure.”