The question of who was in charge of this small army was answered when two burly MacAliese men grabbed Old Hamish by the arms, and held him back. The woman wearing brown robes raised a staff and moved towards Sayana. Apparently some kind of wizard, she walked amongst the flames, untouched by the heat and with one sweeping gesture from the weapon, a wave of lava boiled up from the nearby lake and splashed onto the stone between her and the sorceress.
Molten rock separated the two women and convulsed and shifted before their eye. It grew towards the cavernous ceiling and formed a huge, man-like shape over ten feet tall. The few remaining MacAliese warriors kept their distance as the lava elemental strode forward, fists of molten rock ready to pulverise its foe.
Sayana trembled as she gawked at the immense being bearing down on her. Pacian snapped out of his momentary trance and set another bolt into place — he didn’t know if the weapon would even hurt a creature made of lava, but he had to try. He stifled a curse as he realised the cartridge was empty, and set about changing it as quickly as his bloodied hands could manage.
Focused upon his task as he was, Pacian could only hear the sounds of the monster’s flaming fist smashing into the rock, and he silently hoped that Sayana hadn’t been there at the time. It took him far too long to clap the new cartridge into place and by the time he looked up, he saw her desperately trying to evade the creature’s fists. She ducked when she should have dived however, and one slammed into her side. Sayana had the foresight to summon a shimmering disk of energy, which took the brunt of the blow but was destroyed from the impact.
She was hurled back against a wall, her clothes and hair smoking and charred from the brief contact. Looking around for something to aid her, she discovered a nook too small for the behemoth to reach. Sayana scrambled to her feet and dove inside as another fist came down next to her, sending up sparks as the lava impacted with the rocky floor. It peered around the corner but was clearly too large to fit inside, and howled a guttural roar of frustration that sounded like an avalanche.
The other dwarven warriors moved in, keeping a cautious eye on the elemental as they attempted to flush Sayana out. Torrents of flame dissuaded them from venturing too deeply, but the flames were small and lacked their previous power.
Pacian balanced the crossbow on the rock before him, ready to shoot a bolt into the back of the elemental, when he noticed the shaman who had summoned it hadn’t moved from her spot. Her lips were moving slowly and her staff was held aloft. Pacian suspected this was important.
Listening to his instincts, he swivelled around and brought his weapon to bear upon the shaman and, after letting out a slow breath to steady himself, pulled the trigger. The bolt flew through the air and pierced her neck. She dropped the staff and fell to the ground with blood flowing from the mortal wound.
Almost immediately, the elemental howled and smashed its fist into the closest dwarf, pulverising him in one swift blow. The others scattered, falling over themselves to get away from the monster that had been unleashed by the fall of its mistress.
Seizing her opportunity, Sayana leaped out of her hiding place and with a brief moment of concentration, jumped high over the top of the elemental, skimming the ceiling of the cavern to land next to the twitching remains of the shaman with graceful ease, nearly twenty yards distant.
Pacian watched the fight between the elemental and the warriors for a moment longer, just to be sure they were fully occupied, and then shadowed Sayana’s progress. He moved perhaps twenty yards before he found a prime scouting location from which to cover her, and right at the edge of his sight he thought he spied a small wooden shack. His spirits lifted as Pacian realised that was probably the place Nellise was being held, and he resisted the urge to rush straight in.
Sayana moved along the cavern cautiously, paying little heed to the sounds of battle echoing off the walls. There was no sign of any further opposition, but Hamish had to be out there somewhere, unless he had decided to run off after discovering the duplicitous nature of his allies.
A flicker of movement caught Pacian’s eye near the shack on the far side of the cavern. Sayana must have seen it too, for she started moving in that direction.
Sensing Nellise could be in danger, Pacian hefted the crossbow and started making his way towards the shack. Though his injuries were grave, he pushed himself as fast as he could, spurred on by the possibility of Nellise about to harmed by some of the remaining enemy. Throwing caution to the wind, Pacian had outdistanced Sayana, who continued to eye the surrounding stalagmites carefully.
When Pacian was within twenty yards of the shack, he ducked behind a rock and peered around the corner, laying eyes on a shadowy dwarven figure that was creeping closer to the door of the shack. Narrowing his eyes, Pacian caught a glimpse of his face and recognised the bearded features of Tosh, dressed in the primitive leathers of the MacAliese clan.
A cold rage came over Pacian as he laid eyes on the traitorous soldier and he began to wend his way through the rocks towards him, his wounds forgotten as a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. He slung the crossbow over his shoulder and drew out Tosh’s dagger with murderous intent, almost oblivious to the sound of renewed fighting nearby.
Tosh froze and glanced towards the source of the sound, giving Pacian the opportunity to slip around to the other side without being seen. His focus was solely on the task before him, and slowly put one foot on front of the other, silently moving closer as Tosh quickly began trying to force the lock on the door before him. He never had a chance at completing his task.
He gasped as Pacian slipped Tosh’s dagger between his ribs and staggered backward, turning his head to stare at his assailant in blank astonishment. Pacian stared at him coldly as the blood dripped from Tosh’s lips and the light went out of eyes.
“The price of treachery is death,” Pacian whispered in his ear, certain it would be the last thing he would ever hear. He laid the now-lifeless body silently at his feet and wiped the blood from his dagger on the tattered cloak Tosh wore.
Glaring down at the body of the traitor, Pacian felt a cold sense of satisfaction that justice had been done, yet still seethed at the betrayal. The sound of conflict caught his attention and looking up, he noticed that Sayana fought an armoured dwarf carrying a familiar looking axe.
Old Hamish was clearly no stranger to battle, but the years had taken their toll on his reflexes. He was roughly a match for Sayana, for she was spent from the battles she had fought, and was using everything she had left just to keep the vicious axe at bay. Her magical shield darted back and forth, intercepting each predictable sweep of the axe. The little jets of flame she shot at him had little effect.
Pacian took out the crossbow once more and propped it up on a nearby rock, aiming straight at the back of the unsuspecting warrior. As soon as he was steady, he pulled the trigger, sending a razor-sharp quarrel at the back of Hamish’s breastplate. It bounced off the thick armour however, and disappeared from sight.
Hamish whirled around to see what had struck him and locked eyes with Pacian, who was busy pulling back the lever with his one good arm. The distraction was all that was needed however, for Sayana once more drew in energy from the surrounding air, dimming the light from the receding pool of lava. By the time Hamish turned his attention back to her, she was ready for him.
With a pushing gesture from her outstretched hands, Hamish was flung backwards through the air to slam into a stalagmite five yards away. The axe fell from his hands as he gasped in pain, and as soon as it clattered to the ground, it was suddenly whisked through the air towards Sayana, who caught it in one hand and with a powerful throw sent it back at Hamish, cleaving his skull in one strike.
His body twitched in a macabre fashion for a few moments, and then slid down the red-hot embankment into the lake of lava. The heat set his hair on fire long before his body touched it, but once it connected with the molten rock, the corpse went up in flames. The metal from his armour started to melt and Than
esedge, firmly lodged into his skull, sank beneath the fiery surface to melt along with the rest of the metal.
Sayana stood for a long moment afterwards, weaving back and forth with exhaustion before slumping to the ground, breathing heavily. Looking past her, Pacian could see the lava elemental slowly merging with the lake after pummelling the remaining warriors into the ground.
Even the lake of lava appeared to be receding with each passing moment, so it appeared they had won. The shaman must have been the one causing it to flood in the first place, and Pacian wouldn’t put it past the MacAlieses to try and destroy the entire city with a rising tide of lava from beneath.
Guessing that Sayana just needed some rest, he ignored her and set about opening the door to the shack. Oddly, it was still locked and with a quick scan of Tosh’s body, he found no key, but a set of lock picks. Resorting to his usual methods, Pacian managed to have the simple lock opened within moments, and then pushed it inwards, peering in to the dimly lit room to see the distinctive white robes of Nellise in the far corner. She was kneeling in prayer, and upon opening the door, turned to grace Pacian with a heartfelt smile.
“I knew you’d come,” she breathed, rising to her feet and rushing forward to embrace him in a rare display of affection. The real surprise came a moment later when her lips met his in a passionate kiss. Not one to be rude, Pacian recovered from his momentary shock and went along with it, his most secret dream coming true at last. He did his best to keep from crying out at the sharp pains in his body as she held him close.
“Are you okay? Did they touch you?” Pacian asked after they had finally separated.
“They were a little rough with me, but simply locked me up in here as soon as we arrived,” Nellise explained, glancing up and down his bloodied form. “Good God, you’re a wreck! What must you have gone through to get me out of here I wonder?”
“I’d do it all again and then some, if it led me back to you,” Pacian breathed, speaking from his heart for the first time without fear of rejection or judgement. “I’ll always come for you, Nel.”
“Damn you, Pace,” Nellise whispered, her golden eyes staring straight into his. “How can you be so endearing, yet so broken at the same time?” She seemed to hear her own words and recovered her composure a little before speaking in a more business-like tone. “Right, well let’s get Tosh and the others and return to the city and see you mended. Where is he, anyway? He said help was on the way and he was going to make sure I was safe until you arrived.” Pacian, in the midst of heading out the door, froze in place.
“He said what?”
“Tosh was holding them off until help arrived,” Nellise explained. “He whispered through a crack in the wall over there that everything was going to be fine, and he was right. He even disguised himself as one of them so he could move about freely. Three of the king’s council had actually been involved with the MacAlieses, if you can believe that — they were the ones that seized me during the fight in the Royal Hall. Do you know, I think they were planning to flood the place with magma from deep in the earth? Such madness!”
Pacian remained silent, his mind whirling at the possibilities. Nellise’s buoyant mood lasted only as long as it took for her to step past him and gaze down upon the lifeless body of Sergeant MacIntosh.
“Oh no,” she whispered, kneeling down and checking for a pulse. Pacian knew she would find no signs of life — he was too good at his job. “They must have discovered his identity and killed him.”
“Yeah… I guess so,” Pacian mumbled, his mind reviewing the events of the evening that had led him to the conclusion that Tosh had betrayed them. It had all been guesswork on his part until he ran into Sloane out in the tunnels, but she had confirmed his suspicions.
He was about to tell Nellise of this when something about his discussion with Sloane didn’t seem to fit. He had been the one to first mention Tosh’s betrayal — the devious woman had lied through her teeth to confuse and mislead him, filling his head with paranoid nonsense. Pacian had been played, and in that respect, Sloane had won, with Tosh paying the ultimate price.
Pacian began to shake uncontrollably, and he would have fallen to the ground had it not been for the steady hands of Nellise. The efforts of the incredibly long day had finally caught up with him, and the anger that had sustained him through it all evaporated at the sight of his fallen friend, the image of Tosh’s look of shock and horror during his final moments etched into his mind.
Wracked with pain and guilt, he slumped to the ground next to the body of a man he had barely met, yet had turned out to be one of the more reliable people he had ever known. And he had killed him. He had killed him with his own dagger. Pacian spat out a string of vile curses and punched the stone ground again and again, heedless of the blood coming from his broken knuckles. Unable to contain himself, he broke down and cried with Nellise holding him close, oblivious to the true source of his turmoil.
* * *
Try as he might, Pacian couldn’t bring himself to confess to Tosh’s murder. The look of open adoration from Nellise would surely vanish, should she learn the truth. Pacian had worked hard to foster both her respect and her love, for something deep within him yearned for both, and he wasn’t about to ruin that over a misunderstanding. The truth wouldn’t bring Tosh back to life.
They rested in the diplomatic suite for two days to mend their wounds, and also to give the dwarves time to put down the uprising. The MacAliese’s had apparently been at work on this plan long before Pacian and the others had arrived, for their crazy cousins from Ferrumgaard had managed to infiltrate many places within the city, and their allies were proving to be difficult to quell.
Valennia had survived, through the grace of the dwarven god of battle, Relnak. Nellise looked as if she had a great deal to say on the subject of a pagan god, but she wisely kept her mouth shut, grateful simply for the akoran woman’s continued existence.
Sayana’s singed hair had been cut back, and Nellise had enjoyed spending a great deal of time playing with what remained. There was something about women doing each other’s hair that seemed to sooth them greatly, Pacian observed.
Sayana was left with a short braid of hair that was tied at the back of her neck, with curly bangs framing her face in a way that accentuated her large green eyes. Her slightly pointed ears were visible, which made her a little self-conscious despite the assurances of her friends.
Of the death of Tosh, she said nothing, but Pacian could swear that there was an accusatory look in her eyes when she gazed at him. If she knew of his crime however, he was uncertain why she remained quiet on the matter.
Pacian spent his time in bed, occasionally dozing off into a fitful sleep, and other times merely resting as Nellise bathed him in her healing presence. His physical wounds were healing rapidly, but he couldn’t shake the mental scars so easily. When he slept, Pacian relived the events of the past few days in startling detail. He would awaken relieved with the knowledge that Tosh was still alive, only to remember what had happened, and feel the despair of his crime once more.
On the morning of the third day after the fight, they were finally summoned to see the king. Signs of the city’s recent turmoil still lingered, even two days after the uprising, and heavily armed soldiers were everywhere. Despite this, the people were going about their daily lives as normal, repairing damaged shopfronts and sweeping up the mess left behind by the rampaging horde.
Word had reached them in the diplomatic suite that nearly five hundred men and women had been involved in the riot, a good number of them the MacAliese’s from Ferrumgaard, spurring on the fighting from within the crowds.
Presently, the entourage arrived at the Royal Halls, which were inundated with soldiers at every entrance. Clearly, King Sulinus was taking no chances with regards to security, and the stern warriors of Stonegaard were poised to put down any unruly behaviour. Although Pacian and his companions weren’t heavily armed, the suspicious eyes of the guards never left them as they
passed into the Halls.
“You’d think they would show some respect,” Valennia remarked. “We were largely responsible for preventing the overthrow of their king, after all.”
“They were betrayed from within their own ranks,” Nellise softly reminded them. “I think we can forgive them for tightening security.” Pacian found it disconcerting to be the focus of so many authoritarian figures, but he kept quiet and followed the cleric into the inner sanctum.
The place had been thoroughly cleaned in the intervening days since the initial assault had taken place, and try as he might, Pacian couldn’t see any stains of blood on the carpets or stone floor. At the end of the hall, seated once more upon his golden throne was King Sulinus, who watched their approach with quiet patience. Only two counsellors stood by his side this time — the chamberlain and one of the younger dwarves they had met previously, both of them dressed in their finest robes of state.
“Thank you for responding to His Majesty’s request so promptly,” the Chamberlain intoned as they stopped a few yards from the throne. “He is in your debt for the services you have rendered for the people of Stonegaard, and thanks you for your patience over the past two days while the situation was dealt with.”
“Have recent events caused His Majesty to lose the ability to speak for himself?” Pacian asked in a somewhat churlish manner.
“You don’t care much for formalities, do ya?” Sulinus replied evenly, surprising his staff by stepping down from his throne and moving to stand before the small group. His long hair was plaited, as was his beard and the bags under his eyes suggested many sleepless nights.
“I think we’ve done enough to warrant speaking together as regular people,” Pacian clarified, ignoring Nellise’s shocked glance.
“I’ve just about had it up to here with such nonsense meself,” Sulinus agreed, surprisingly. His words lost the veneer of stiff formality and spoke in a more relaxed cadence. “Don’t hold it against me staff, they’re just doin’ their jobs. I’ll speak plain and true — ye’ve saved me city, but more’n that, ye’ve saved me life as well. If ya hadn’t been here to fend off those mad bastards, the whole city woulda been plunged into chaos.” The last was addressed directly to Valennia, who seemed to straighten with pride at these words.
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