Knight Rising

by Jason Hamilton

  Something was not right here. And where was Lion? The beast had seemingly disappeared into the foliage. She hoped he hadn’t gotten lost off the path. If animals like him could lose their way. Surely he could smell his way back to her.

  The newcomer advanced on George, raising his sword high and bringing it down in a sweeping cut.

  George yelped and only barely managed to dodge out of the way. His sword wasn’t even raised to block the blow. In fact, from the way George moved, he seemed far less skilled than Una was used to seeing. She narrowed her eyes.

  George ran a short distance then faced the man with Sans Loy written on his shield. “I warn you,” he said, and Una leaned in. There was something different about George’s tone now. His voice was deeper, more confident. “I am capable of far more than you know. Our mistress would not be pleased to see us at odds.”

  “Enough words,” shouted the other, and he lunged at George.

  Then something very peculiar happened. For a brief moment, it seemed as though George was not George at all. In his place Una spied another man, not as tall, and with dirty gray-brown hair that hung to his chest. His cheeks were pale and gaunt, almost unhealthy. And there was a smile on his face.

  But the vision lasted only a second before the image of the knight replaced that of the long-haired man. Una’s eyes darkened. She had been deceived. This man wasn’t George.

  The lawless man must have noticed the brief change as well, for he paused in his assault. “What is going on?” he said. “Who are you?”

  But George did not answer directly. Instead, he raised his arms to the sky and spoke. “I call on Mendacius and the goddess Ate. Lend me your aid.” The air seemed to grow thick around them, and Una thought she spied a darkness form in front of George, even darker than that of the forest.

  “What is this? Is this how you killed my brother?” The lawless man pushed forward, raising his shield and swinging his sword forward.

  But with a subtle gesture of George’s hand, the darkness exploded outward until it was all around them. Una yelped and nearly stumbled backward, and the man with Sans Loy written on his shield cried out in frustration. “Sorcery,” he growled. “Face me like a man.”

  “But I am not a man,” said a voice. It was like George’s voice, but unlike at the same time. It floated to Una as if from all around her.

  She was certain of one thing for sure, the man she’d been traveling with for the last day was not George, nor had he ever been. This was someone else. Perhaps a trick of the forest, or some sorcery born out of another place. But whoever he was, he was a threat, and Una had been casually walking beside him this whole time, telling him everything that had transpired over the last few days.

  Suddenly a huge roar echoed around them. Lion was here, cutting through the darkness. Una could see nothing, but she felt the rush of wind on her skin as the lion hurtled right past her.

  “Agh,” the darkness suddenly vanished as Lion’s claws met flesh. George, or what had been George, tumbled forward, the giant cat knocking him to the ground. He was now the man she had briefly glimpsed just moments before. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, his long hair partly obscuring his eyes. They were so light brown, they were almost yellow.

  Then the lawless man was there, but he wasn’t attacking the man who had once been George. His curved sword lashed out and cut a large gash in Lion’s flank. The beast roared in pain, even as Una yelled, “No!”

  Lion turned on the man, and swatted at him with one paw, though he kept a distance, wary of the newcomer’s blade.

  Una didn’t like this. She felt utterly helpless. If it weren’t for Lion, she would have no defense against either of these two.

  Or did she? She’d used her magic to tame the lion, could she use it to save herself now? Perhaps she could even turn these two to her will, much as she had the lion. It was a tempting thought, and she had already done something of the sort with the thief not long ago, though something told her the people would be far harder to manipulate as such. But perhaps it was worth a shot…

  She focused just as the lawless man swung again at the Lion, who leapt backward, out of range. How had she done this before? When fighting the lion, she had used magic out of desperation. This certainly qualified as a desperate situation, even though there was slightly less urgency to protect her person in that immediate moment. She felt deep inside herself. Yes, there was something there, an awareness, almost an intuition. Like something that had always been a part of her though she was only discovering it now. It wanted to be set free.

  “Stop it!” she yelled as both men closed in on the lion.

  17

  For a moment, they did stop, and as one, they turned to face her. There was a curious look in the lawless man’s eyes. “You...you have…”

  But he did not have a chance to finish his sentence. Lion roared and took the moment of distraction as an opportunity to pounce on the lawless man.

  Pulling both his shield and curved sword in front of him, the man redirected the lion’s motion and twisted to one side, so that the lion mostly continued forward. But just as it was going past, the lawless man carved a long gash in his torso.

  “No!” Una yelled again. Lion fell to the ground, hissing and roaring. But blood soaked the ground beneath it, and though the lion tried to rise, it could not.

  “Lion!” forgetting her own safety, she ran to the beast. If she had magic to turn it to her will, perhaps she could find a way to heal it. She pushed both hands on the bloody gash in its side, willing it to close, to mend itself. Sorceresses could heal, right? And there had been that moment three years ago. Perhaps she could heal too. She had to, or Lion was going to die.

  But nothing happened. That well of awareness within her lay dormant.

  “It appears, I may have misjudged you,” said the lawless man, though he wasn’t talking to her.

  “It is an honest mistake,” said the man who had once been George. “We both serve the same lady. Though the damage is done. I had nearly gained this one’s trust.”

  She whirled on the two of them, her hands still dripping with the lion’s blood. Both regarded her with level gazes. “Who are you?”

  “The real question is, who are you?” said the lawless man. He gazed at her as though seeing her for the first time. “You have a gift with magic I see, though still untrained.”

  So her earlier efforts had done something to them. Why couldn’t she heal Lion?

  “Yes, that much is apparent,” said the other man with long hair. “Our lady Duessa charged me with leading her this way.”

  Una stared back down the path they had come, wide eyed. It was not the main road. Somehow, she had been tricked into going the wrong way the whole time. But how? She was sure they had never left, and yet the small road behind them was definitely not the main path. It would take her hours, perhaps days to backtrack, if she could even find the way they came in.

  “She is a pretty one,” said the lawless man, eyeing her up and down. Una grit her teeth. She had seen that look all too often. “I wonder if you would, perhaps, indulge me? I have been trapped in Annwyn for a long time.”

  The other waved a hand in dismissal. “You may do what you wish, my job is to keep her from causing further trouble, no more.”

  “Stay away from me,” she warned, pulling her knife out of its sheath, for all the good it would do.

  “Oh I’m sorry dear,” said the man, putting down the shield with Sans Loy inscribed on it. “You should have known it was dangerous to travel round these parts.”

  With that, he lunged at her, putting out one hand to catch her arm as she swung her knife. The man was skilled. Her knife didn’t come close to touching him as her wrist was caught in his grip. He pushed her hand back, spraining it until she could no longer hold the knife. It fell to the ground.

  The man was strong, but she had dealt with strong men before. She could handle another one.

  She let herself fall, surprising him, but using his fo
rward momentum to bring her knee up and land a hard blow to the groin.

  He groaned, and his grip on her arms lessened a bit. She used the opportunity to claw at his eyes with one hand as his strength waned. But the moment he realized what she was doing, he pushed his arms forward so that they kept her fingers away from his face.

  “You’re a feisty one,” he said, a grin sliding onto his face. His face was red with the pain in his groin, but he was better than most at hiding it. Most men would have been rolling on the ground by now. Instead, he was pushing her down, leaning forward so that his breath brushed against her neck. It was sickeningly sweet. Her normal tactics were not working, and her heartbeat and breathing were beginning to increase. She would just have to try harder.

  She kicked, she bit, she writhed, even as the man pressed harder against her. She looked for any vulnerable spot, any opening that would allow her to escape and run.

  For a moment, it seemed to be working. Every time the lawless man got a good hold, she would break it. She would not give him the opportunity to pin her down, much less violate her.

  The man grunted as she managed to kick him again in the groin. Turning to look at the man who had once looked like her knight, he growled out, “You’re a sorcerer, right? A little help?”

  The man had his arms folded, watching and keeping his face indifferent. “My magic is hardly worthy of your pitiful urges.”

  “It also won’t hurt,” said the lawless man. “I will speak highly to the lady of your assistance.”

  The other regarded him with those nearly yellow eyes. “Very well but make it quick.”

  The lawless man turned toward her with a hungry look in his wild eyes. The yellow-eyed man made a brief gesture, and something like a cloud settled over her mind. She felt her muscles grow limp, as though they had lost strength, and she had difficulty thinking. Yet the lawless man began tugging at her clothes, pulling her tunic up and over.

  No, this could not be happening. Not here, she’d managed to avoid any such disgrace on more than one occasion before. Where was her real knight to save her, could Lion come back to life for one last attack?

  But they weren’t there, she was alone.

  The lawless man began working the strings of her trousers.

  A thought drifted to her through the mind fog, though it was more of a feeling. A resolution. No, she would not let this happen, and she didn’t need any savior. Both men had acknowledged she had some kind of magic. She’d used it before to tame the lion, and possibly even earlier when she had played dice, or when George had fought the giant serpent.

  She reached deep within her and tugged at that part of her. If ever there was a time to use it, it was now.

  Something flared to life deep within her mind. With it came clarity, pushing back against the fog that kept her down. Her strength returned, and she brought her arms up to slap them against her attacker’s ears.

  The man, not anticipating her retaliation, clutched at his head and fell back. She scrambled to her feet, drawing back one leg to give the man one last kick between the legs. She put all her strength into the motion.

  “How…” said the other, his brow furrowed as he put his arms out to weave some new spell.

  “No!” she said aloud, raising her own hands and simultaneously calling on that well of power within her. Something responded.

  The yellow-eyed man’s hands dropped to his sides, and his eyes grew wide. He looked like he was trying to speak but couldn’t.

  The lawless man rose, reaching for his sword. “Get away from that,” she yelled, putting out a hand to him as well. Like the yellow-eyed man, he froze in place, unable to move.

  “How...are you...so powerful,” said the yellow-eyed man, forcing the words out of his mouth as though it took great effort. “You are...untrained.”

  She didn’t know the answer to his question. She didn’t even realize that she had any abilities until just recently. But she could feel it now, like a silent companion whispering in her ear, telling her what she should do. She could feel it reaching through her and outward, laying hold on the two men, restraining their minds, keeping them from attacking her, or even moving.

  “Who are you?” she said to both of them. “Who sent you to attack me? Tell me everything.” She let her hold on them lessen just enough so they could speak more freely.

  “We have nothing to say to you,” said the lawless man, spitting on the ground.

  Instinctively, she willed her magic to work on the man. He cried out, his head tilting backward, his eyes rolling into his head.

  “Stop it, you’ll kill him!” said the yellow-eyed man.

  It was no more than the man deserved. She would kill him in an instant if she didn’t need information first. But in that moment, something stirred within her, a hunger, a lust of blood. Whatever magical force lay inside her mind and body, it wanted to kill. It called to her, telling her to do it, to overwhelm the lawless man’s body until he expired. That scared her, and that was why she ultimately let her magic drop.

  “Tell me your names,” she said in what she hoped was an intimidating voice. She was usually good at intimidation, even against men who typically underestimated women. But these men were no longer underestimating her.

  “I am Archimago,” said the yellow-eyed man. “I do not know the name of this man, but he serves my mistress.”

  “I am Pyrochles,” spat the other. “And when our lady hears of this, she will come for you personally.”

  Una looked at Archimago. “You’ve spoken of your lady before. Duessa. Just who is she?”

  “What I told you was no lie.” Archimago’s voice was calm, or at least that’s how he appeared, still trapped in place by the influence of her magic. “She is the rightful guardian of these woods, and the realms that lie beyond. It is a right that was taken from her by Gloriana, the Faerie Queen.”

  “What does she want with me?” she asked.

  “I do not know,” he said, simply, meeting her eyes.

  She frowned, and pressed her will against his, forcing the truth from his mind. He had magic too, she would have to be careful.

  The man’s face twitched, and he grit his teeth as she forced her magic against his mind. “I’m telling the truth,” he gasped. “My only job was to keep you from your goals, to distract you. If she’d wanted you dead, you would not be breathing right now. I could have killed you in your sleep or taken you back to that wench whose husband you killed.”

  Una stilled. So he knew about that.

  “Where is she now?” Una asked.

  “You cannot hide from her,” said Pyrochles. “She will come for you eventually, and she will kill you.”

  “Silence, Pyrochles,” said Archimago. “You will get us killed.”

  Una’s eyes darkened. She should kill them, for everything they had done to her, and everything they had almost done. She couldn’t take them with her, as she wasn’t sure how long she could keep up the effort of using her magic. She knew nothing about how any of this sorcery worked.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just kill you on the spot,” she said, looking to Archimago as she did so.

  He met her eyes, and she felt a chill run down her spine at the sight of their yellow hue. In the dim light, they almost appeared to glow.

  “I will give you one,” he said.

  In the next breath, enormous sparks erupted all around her, the lights creating small explosions by her ears, deafening her. The sparks also emitted smoke, plunging the entire path in a haze.

  She choked on the smoke. Idiot. She had let her guard down enough that the man had called on his own magic.

  Pyrochles’s horse whinnied, and she readied herself, calling on her magic to reach out and find them again, to lay them flat and keep them from doing harm to her ever again. To skin them alive, eat their flesh, and…

  Where had that thought come from?

  She almost lost hold of her magic in shock. That horrid emotion had come from inside her. But sh
e couldn’t stop to think of it yet. She had to guard against her two assailants.

  Una blinked through the smoky haze as it began to dissipate. But Archimago and Pyrochles were no longer there. The sound of hooves could be heard in the distance.

  “Dragon dung,” she cursed. Well at least they weren’t attacking her anymore. But running off meant they could become a problem for her again. She should have just killed them when she had the chance. Clearly they meant her harm, so there was no reason why she should have spared them.

  But she was curious about this Duessa. Whoever she was, she must have been some woman to command such dedication from those two. Especially when they clearly didn’t follow any code of chivalry.

  What really bothered her was the fact this Duessa person had taken an interest in her, enough to try and thwart Una’s plans. What had Una done? All she wanted was to return to her family castle, to find out if anyone still remained. She didn’t even need to kill the beast. All she had to do was sneak in and learn what had happened in her absence. So why did this Duessa feel the need to stop her? The last thing she wanted was to get caught up with Faerie Queens and their dissidents.

  She picked up her things and riffled through some of Archimago’s belongings. Pyrochles had taken everything of his with the horse, but Archimago had dropped a pouch. She opened it to find some biscuits, some seasoning, and a cut of dry venison. Good. That should hold her over for a little longer while she tried to retrace her steps and find the main path through the forest.

  Her eyes stung as she paused beside her lion. He had fought to protect her, and she had grown close to the beast even though they had only been travelling companions for a handful of days. What would have happened if it hadn’t followed her? He would probably be happily feasting on a deer or sheep right now, without caring at all about Una or the knight that had killed it.