By now, Aiden’s feet were no longer numb — they were downright painful. His head felt like it was going to split open, and he found himself shivering uncontrollably.
“Set him down over there,” Maggie ordered Ronan, who silently complied. “We can’t wait any longer.”
“If we do that, your friends will definitely find us,” Sir William warned as he led Bastion in and tethered the exhausted horse to the wall.
“Don’t think for a minute we were going to get out of this without another fight,” the sailor remarked. “We’ve got three approaches into this building. I’m going to see what we can do to tip the odds in our favour.” He checked his gear and went back outside.
Maggie set about starting a fire, using scattered wood from around the building. Within minutes, a crackling flame shed some light in the empty room and Aiden moved closer to thaw out his feet.
Maggie knelt down and gently inspected his feet, her crystal in hand as she whispered a prayer to Nature. Aiden rested his weary head on his elbow and soaked up the meagre warmth from the growing fire, keeping one eye on the doorway in case they had unwanted company. After a minute or so, Maggie put her crystal away and slumped forward.
“I’ve done what I can,” she sighed. “If you keep your feet warm overnight, you will be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Thanks again,” Aiden responded, genuinely grateful for her ministrations. “I’m not going to be of much use.”
“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do to help, but you always manage to surprise me, Aiden,” Maggie remarked as she reluctantly drew her dagger.
“Well, if any of your old friends come in here and kneel down in front of me, I’ll do my best to stab them,” Aiden assured her. Maggie nodded solemnly as Sir William suddenly went tense, his hand moving to the hilt of his blade.
“Movement,” he declared softly, peering out at the deserted street. Maggie trotted over to his side, craning her neck to try and see what he was looking at, when a strangled cry came from somewhere nearby.
Aiden sat upright, unsure what was happening, and reached around to his scroll case for reassurance. At that moment, he noticed there were two other scrolls inside that he’d somehow acquired without knowing. On an impulse, he pulled them out and quickly scanned through the cryptic texts by the light of the fire.
Many of the sigils inscribed upon the parchments were familiar to him, although he’d never actually seen these particular scrolls before. Aiden wracked his brain, trying to think of where he had acquired them, and it dawned on him the only place he’d seen such scrolls recently was at Alain’s house. Had the explorer stuffed them into his case as a gift? Aiden was sure it was something he would have mentioned, set aside questions of “how” for the time being as Ronan crept back into their impromptu base.
“You managed to eliminate another one?” Sir William asked in a voice little more than a whisper.
“Set up a razor-sharp wire across the street at neck height,” Ronan replied breathlessly. “It wasn’t pretty. Finished him off with an arrow, but the rest are coming this way. You two go sit by the fire and look tired. Yeah, just like that,” he added after glancing at the two weary adventurers for a moment.
“Why?” Maggie asked, looking up at him.
“They think they’re being sneaky, and I want them to believe they are,” Ronan explained, after a fashion. “Trust me. After I take out the first one, that’d be a great time to leap into action.” Maggie shrugged and followed Sir William over to the fire, where they sat next to Aiden, appearing casually tired but with hands ready upon their weapons.
Ronan silently walked up the wall and held position a few feet above the doorway, an arrow nocked and ready to shoot. Aiden felt his pulse racing as the tension increased. He scanned through both scrolls on the off-chance that they might be useful, and his eyes widened at the implications of what he held in his hand.
“When the fight starts, you’re suddenly going to feel a lot stronger,” Aiden whispered, drawing curious glances from his friends. One of the scrolls was an incantation of strength, similar to one that he had used weeks ago in the akoran caves. He didn’t see the point in waiting further and carefully whispered the words from the parchment, feeling the release of energy surge through his body as it crumbled into ashes.
A few moments later Aiden could feel the strength in his limbs return five-fold. His companion’s fatigue was replaced by vibrant strength, as similar feelings of power bolstered their weary limbs. It would only last a few minutes, but that should be enough time for them to convince the remaining druids they were not to be trifled with.
Aiden positioned himself in such a way so he could see the doorway out of the corner of his eye. The light was rapidly fading from the sky, but their fire was large enough to show anyone approaching. For a long moment, the crackling flames were the only sound aside from the wind through the trees. It was then Aiden saw a shadow of movement from the direction of the door and it took an effort to avoid turning for a better look.
Time slowed down as the shadow grew larger in the doorway, and Aiden’s heart raced at the closeness of their deadly enemies. Where there was one, there would be others.
“Psst,” Ronan suddenly hissed. The interloper looked up at Ronan, his eye staring directly at the business end of his bow. A heartbeat later, the arrow was shot into his brain, killing him instantly. A peal of thunder rolled over the building at that point, prompting Sir William and Maggie to get on their feet and ready themselves for what was to come.
“They’re throwing the last of their strength at us,” the raelani druid breathed in astonishment as the ancient building shook. Loose stone crumbled from the decaying walls. “Whoever they appointed as their new leader must be nearby, lending their strength to them.” An entire wall toppled over to their right, and the cloaked figures of their opponents could be seen just beyond.
“There’s nothing we can do about that now,” Sir William cried as four druids burst into the room. They were wielding an assortment of staves and clubs, and clad in animal hides and cured leathers.
“Aielund forever!” Sir William cried as he took the brunt of their assault on his shield. Lightning crackled around them as the druids unleashed the power of nature. Arrows flew through the air as Ronan drew down at them from his position high on the wall, doing his best to slow their assault.
Sir William slashed and cut with Solas Aingeal whirling around in the fierce melee, slicing through the thick hides of their foes with ease. He was quickly surrounded, and used all of his skill and supernatural strength to keep them at bay. Aiden felt useless and vulnerable near the fire, and looked around for something that could assist his allies.
Maggie darted in and out of the melee, slashing at the legs of their enemies with her tiny sword. Despite her diminutive size, her strikes carried the power of arcane strength and she knocked down her opponents with each shove.
A heavy blow bypassed Sir William’s defences, slamming him on the side of his helmet and stunning him for a brief instant. The old knight responded by slamming his shield into the face of the nearest opponent, then driving Solas Aingeal across the stunned druid’s chest with incredible force, slamming him to the ground, dead.
Although he had succeeded in dropping one of the druids, Sir William had left himself open on his right flank and the three others took full advantage of this, bashing at his armour. Sir William fell back from the assault with blood pouring from under his helm. More arrows lashed into the fray, crippling one of the druids and allowing Maggie to step in and drive her sword up into his chest.
Seeking to cut off their approaches, Sir William smashed his shield against a nearby wall. Empowered with arcane strength, the blow was more than sufficient to knock the crumbling wall down. The stones tumbled and crashed, cutting off one entrance to the building.
Aiden pulled out the sceptre and uttered the command word as he sought to distract the druids focusing their attention on Sir William. The beam of
brilliant light pierced the darkness and seared one of the druids from head to toe.
A clap of thunder erupted as another druid brought his hands together, causing Aiden to drop the sceptre and cover his ears in pain. His allies had a similar reaction, and it was all the druids needed to take control of the fight.
Above, Ronan lost his footing as the surface he stood on shuddered, and he plummeted to the ground. With cat-like reflexes, he kept his footing and dropped his bow. Twin swords emerged from his sheaths, and he led the counter-attack with his whirling blades.
Aiden had to do something, so he did the only thing he could — he grasped the sceptre once more and despite Desmond’s warnings, pointed it at the nearest druid and spoke the command word.
The ray of destruction burned a hole through the chest of a druid, continuing on to hit the man behind him, too, killing them almost instantly. At that moment, the sceptre began to vibrate with a strange, high-pitched whistle, not unlike a kettle. Aiden looked at the jewel-encrusted tip in alarm, noticing several crystals had cracked and blinding light was emerging as more of the gems fell apart.
The heat from the relic was enough that even through his leather gloves, Aiden felt his hand burning. Guessing what was about to happen, he flung the device towards the group of druids piling in on Ronan.
“Look out!” Aiden cried, and the sailor took one look at it and leaped out of the nearest window, just as the sceptre exploded.
A ball of fire lit up the room with the light of the midday sun. Aiden threw his arms in front of his eyes and could hear only the howls of their enemies as they were incinerated by the eruption of power.
The light faded a few moments later as a calm settled over the ruin. Although Aiden hadn’t been directly involved in the brutal fight, his heart was racing. Ronan peered in through the window to make sure it was safe, before making his way back inside.
One of the dead druids moved, giving Aiden a start until he saw Maggie, pinned underneath, using the last of her magical strength to heave the body aside. She was covered from in a mixture of dirt and blood, and as she looked around at the results of the fight, the expression on her face was one of profound disappointment.
“It didn’t have to come to this,” she muttered fervently, looking around at her fallen brethren. “I don’t know who pushed my old friends to this point, but I swear, they will pay dearly for the corruption of my order.”
Chapter Eleven
“I’m telling you, it was the MacAliese clan,” Pacian insisted to Tosh and the women upon returning to the diplomatic suite at the Rockslide Inn, half an hour later. “Some of them were even wearing those strange patched-up leathers we saw them wearing back at Ferrumgaard.”
“I find this highly implausible,” Nellise sighed. She had just finished a healing session on Valennia, who was looking somewhat healthier for the experience. It left the beautiful cleric drained, however, and they had yet to sleep since returning from the monastery in the mountains. The hour was late, and nobody wanted to turn in more than Pacian, but what he had seen in the caverns below the city had to be discussed.
“Why would I make this up?” he protested. “What possible reason could I have for lying?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Nellise clarified, “but Ferrumgaard is over two hundred miles from here. The remnants of clan MacAliese in that city weren’t exactly the most outgoing sort to begin with, to say nothing of travelling such a distance.”
“How would they even know to come here?” Sayana added thoughtfully. “They’d been closed off from the world for years — not including any grave robbers that went through the place — and didn’t seem to have any inclination to leave.”
“Until we showed up,” Pacian corrected her grimly. “We tore right through their city and made it out alive. Maybe they thought we’d tell everyone they were there and decided to get out.”
“That still doesn’t explain how they came here,” Sayana said with a shake of her head.
“Clavis spoke to them, when we first encountered the clan,” Nellise murmured, deep in thought. “He might have told them where he had come from, and maybe even mentioned that a good portion of the population had survived the calamity at Ferrumgaard.” She glanced at everyone with a worried look on her tired features. “They may have come for revenge, or even to reclaim the throne like their cousin Hamish was speaking of.”
“Wait, didn’t Clavis say the MacAliese clan killed their own king?” Sayana asked. “Why would they be cheering for Hamish, as you described?”
“Yeah… that didn’t really make sense to me either,” Pacian grumbled, dismayed at the amount of thought this task required of his tired brain. “I can’t see them deposing King Sulinus to put Hamish on the throne, but who knows? I mean, they’re crazy.”
“I do not know of these other people you speak of,” Valennia remarked, “but if they were determined enough to come all this way out of spite, then they would not be looking to make a king out of some local stranger. Hamish must be blinded by ambition to not see this.” Tosh had watched them impassively for the entire discussion, arms crossed as he sat next to the fire. He finally spoke up as the talk turned to events closer to home.
“I wouldn’t put it past Old Hamish to instigate something o’ this magnitude,” he said gruffly, “but to suggest he was coordinating with — how many did ya see?”
“At least a hundred,” Pacian supplied.
“A hunnerd of ‘em, and probably needing equipment, if yer description o’ their gear is accurate. Don’t know how they woulda gone about gettin’ all that done, but again, a determined fellow could accomplish it. Still, a hunnerd isn’t a huge threat, even if it is as ya say,” Tosh shrugged. “We’ve twenty times that many soldiers ready to fight ‘em, should it come down to it. It might just be that his distant cousins are using his ambition fer their own ends. It’s something that should be brought to the attention o’ His Majesty immediately. Since I was about to order ye all to come along with me when Pacian barged in, mouth flappin’ away, we’re overdue fer our meeting anyway.”
“I take it King Sulinus was not altogether pleased at the loss of Thanesedge,” Nellise remarked.
“He wasn’t happy about it, no,” Tosh grunted, rising out of his chair. “So, we’ll give them this bit o’ news and hope it’s not too late to do something to head off any unpleasantness in the city.”
“Does that include me?” Pacian hedged, looking at the warm fire and the soft, inviting beds before him. His muscles ached, his head was fuzzy, and he wanted to do nothing but lie around, eat and sleep for the next few days.
“Especially you, as we’ll need ya to point out t’ secret door ya found,” Tosh chided him. “C’mon, the quicker we report this, the quicker you can get some sleep.”
“Fine,” Pacian shrugged, resigned to yet another walk through the dark streets of Ferrumgaard. After the events earlier that night and his stealthy journey back to the inn, the adrenaline had faded and now he was struggling to stay awake. In his haze, he simply followed the sway of Nellise’s white robe as they moved through the quiet underground city, ignoring a subtle nudge from Sayana to stop staring at the cleric’s posterior.
“Do you not post guards to walk the city at night?” he heard Valennia ask Tosh.
“They should be around somewhere, yes,” the sergeant muttered in reply. “After I get ye to the royal chambers, I’ll go have a word with the watch commander.” Something in the back of Pacian’s mind told him this was bad news, but he shrugged it off — after all, he’d done more than his share for the city, and if they could just get their hands on the Sceptre of Oblivion, he could put his feet up for the rest of winter.
Passing through the great doors of the king’s palace, Valennia again noted the lack of guards protecting their leader. Tosh was growing more suspicious by the minute, but was determined to see them to the king’s chambers before investigating further. When they entered the great hall, Pacian could see King Sulinus
sitting on his throne in a heated discussion with his closest aides. Of the guards, there was no sign, and it was entirely possible that the king was so busy arguing with his councillors that he failed to notice their absence.
“Here they come now,” Sulinus thundered over the voices of his council, who fell silent and watched their approach. Pacian was feeling self-conscious, and took on a surly disposition in response to the king’s anger.
“Yer Majesty, I present the representatives of the Kingdom of Aielund, as requested,” Tosh intoned with a bow.
“Yes yes, thank you sergeant,” the king growled with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Ambassador Sannemann, how do you explain the loss of our treasured artifact from your very chambers?” Unlike Pacian, Nellise was composed and unmoved by the monarch’s fury.
“Your Majesty, I offer my sincere apologies for the loss of your beloved relic,” she began eloquently. “Exactly how that came to occur is still a mystery to us. We understand the return of Thanesedge was important to you, especially at this difficult time, but another matter has come to the fore that begs your attention.”
“Go on,” Sulinus prompted.
“While investigating the theft, my associate, Mister Savidge, came across what appears to be a threat to your authority as king of Stonegaard. At least one hundred of your people, led by Hamish MacAliese, were gathered in a secret area far below the city. The exact nature of the meeting was lost on Mister Savidge, as he was unable to speak the language, but Hamish was carrying Thanesedge, and the surrounding throng was chanting in support of him. It is my belief they intend to supplant you and restore a MacAliese to the throne,” Nellise finished with aplomb.
The king and his council had listened patiently to her explanation, but as soon as she finished, all twelve of them erupted into a loud argument.
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