by Paul Kidd
Stepping confidently behind her and looking the part of a conqueror, Private Henry checked his crossbow, drew himself straight, and followed Escalla as the disk drifted off to who-knew-where. The caverns lay empty, the dead ghouls decomposed, and Escalla’s voice argued with the magicsword as she drifted off into the dark halls.
16
In a dark universe of fear, all manner of hideous creatureshad set their minds to inventing tortures to inflict on living souls.
There were tests.
There were punishments.
There were foul torments so horrific that even their creators screamed at the very thought of them.
There were mind-wrenching terrors so foul that even the lords of the Abyss dared not speak their names…
… And then there was being tied back to back with Polkthe Teamster.
Two hours, and Polk was still talking.
“…see, a real hero anticipates trouble,son, has a sixth sense-warnings from the gods, uncanny awareness, a taste forsubtle hints…! That’s your problem, son. No sense for danger. No ability toknow when death is imminent!”
Polk leaned his head back against the stalagmite at his back. Behind him, Jus tried to heave on his own ropes and use the pressure to strangle Polk to death, but the bugbears had used too many knots and turns. Jerking at his ropes in fury, Jus flung his head about to try and catch sight of Polk behind him.
“Polk, shut up.”
“See? Now I knew you were going to say that. That’santicipation, son! That’s what you have to learn.” Polk sighed sorrowfully andcontemplated the sad state of the world. “Guess I still have to train you. Guessthe fault’s all mine. I see errors, son, and I’m too forgiving, too quiet! Ijust let ’em slide. I don’t comment-too polite, that’s always been my failing.Never say an unkind word. Try to let fellers figure things out for themselves. A doctrine of non-interference, son! That’s my way. I’m too quiet!”
Jerking back and forth to try and break his ropes, Jus breathed heavily, his eyes bloodshot with an utterly volcanic rage.
“Polk, enough.”
“Well, that’s nice of you to say, son. I see what you’regetting at. The way I teach you is good enough for normal folks, but you’re justa bit slow on the uptake, thick as a plank…” Polk gave a concerned shake ofhis head. “Ain’t your fault, son! All great heroes have a few failings.It’s just up to people like me to make allowances. It’s my own mistake. I didn’ttake you properly in hand. ‘Let the young feller learn from his own mistakes’, Isaid. ‘Experience is the best teacher’, I said.” The teamster gave a tragicsigh. “I should have been more forthright, guided you better. Now we’re justgonna be fed to a demonic demigod, and that’s that.”
His hands tied behind his back, Jus flexed his fingers with the need to crush and rend.
“What?”
“Fed to demons, son. These drow are agents of evil. Stands toreason they have demonic overlords. Stands to reason overlords have to be fed.”Clucking his tongue, Polk leaned around the pillar to look back at the Justicar. “Son, that’s what I mean. You ain’t got a logical mind.”
They both sat roped back to back, tied to a huge, solid stalagmite. Bruised, cut, and gouged, the Justicar was still smothered with blood. Savage and dangerous, the Justicar watched events in the lich’s cavernswith predatory interest.
They were tied beside a slave caravan. A line of dispirited bugbears, goblins, and troglodytes-apparently failed tribe members-were chainedin a line beside a reeking pack lizard. Drow merchants and guards lounged nearby, breathing perfumes, drinking wines, and idling away their time. The merchant leader walked languidly behind his men, seeming utterly unconcerned. Jus took stock of each drow, the position of their weapons, and the location of intervening cover.
The lich’s cave, a dark cavern opening from which hundreds ofsoft voices were murmuring, stood only thirty feet away to the north. Beyond that, the main cavern was relatively empty. Four bugbears stood guard at the southern entrance-the one through which Escalla would come when she started herrescue. The rest of the cave sloped away eastward where it became warrens for the mutually hostile tribes of bugbears and troglodytes. The two species were ferociously antagonistic. Raw terror kept the stupid creatures in line-terrorand a greed for the rewards brought by service to the drow.
There were signs that another previous caravan had left only hours before. Tracks and less wholesome spoor betrayed that Sour Patch’s lostpopulation had been brought here and then moved on. Conceivably this second, smaller slave train was heading in the same direction.
A hooting noise began to grow and swell. Around the cavern, colors shifted as troglodytes dropped their protective coloring. The chameleons emerged from their guard posts on the walls and leaped clumsily to the floor, expanding throat pouches to give off deep, ear-splitting booms.
A huge troglodyte chieftain paced out from the warren caves. Twenty warriors came with him-all huge lizards draped with belts made from badlyflayed goblin skins, some with the wet red skulls of victims still hanging in their hands. They dragged prisoners along with them-six gnolls and a hobgoblin,all gouged, bleeding, and nearly dead.
Scores of angry bugbears flowed out from the other warren caves, following the troglodytes. Surly and snarling with jealousy, they eyed the bleeding prisoners. Leaving the slave caravan, the drow merchants walked over to meet the troglodyte leader and began talking in a braying, barking tongue.
Troglodytes offered their captives to the drow, pointing at the slave caravan. The prisoners were clearly too badly injured to march to the caravan’s destination. The drow used gestures to reject the goods. Roaring inanger, the troglodyte chieftain turned and bellowed to his followers, who instantly gripped the captives and tore the creatures apart with their bare hands. Screams echoed through the tunnels, and the troglodytes closed in like piranha to feed on screaming, shrieking flesh.
Polk shrank back against his stalagmite in horror as he watched the captives being eaten alive. “Ah, son? Have you an escape plan ofyour own? Because mine still needs a little bit of work.”
“Polk, quiet.” The Justicar tensed, leaning forward togaze at the southern tunnel entrance. “Do what I damned well tell you the momentit starts.”
Polk blinked and looked around at the Justicar. “It?”
Lurching up the southern passageway came a large pack lizard-a big thing covered in mildewed scales and occasional fungus growths. Thecreature was led by a solitary drow-a thin, somewhat tall creature armed with aheavy crossbow and with an unusually long sword slung over its back. Watching the drow come closer to their cave, four bugbears at the cavern entrance came to their feet.
As the solitary drow trader approached, a bugbear halted him with an upraised hand and spoke in its guttural, snarling tongue. The drow looked at the floor stiffly and gave a grunt, shrugging his shoulders. The bugbear nodded as if in agreement, then presented its hand toward the drow, palm upward.
The drow hesitated, looked confused, and then put a platinum coin into the bugbear’s hand. The gigantic goblinoid blinked at the coin, lookedpleased, pocketed the trinket, then presented its hand once again.
The creature jiggled its hand and snarled out a few words, then pointed to the drow’s cloak pin. Alarmed, the drow began to pat its pocketsin confusion. It turned to face the pack lizard, careful not to touch the thing, since it was only a flimsy illusion spell case over a floating, misshapen string of shapes tied up in an old tarpaulin. Pretending to search its own robes, the drow hissed a whisper into empty air.
“Why does it want to look at my cloak pin?”
“Cloak pin?” Invisible and sitting astride the floatingcanvas sausage, Escalla felt a flash of inspiration. “Oh! I think he wants youridentification!”
“Identification?” Transformed into drow shape by one ofEscalla’s spells, Private Henry quailed. “I don’t have any identification!”
“Lessee… we found some weird stuff.” Escalla rememberedthe gold hairpin filched from the dro
w sorceress who had turned into a manta ray. The faerie extracted the pin and slipped it into Henry’s hands. “There yougo! Give this a try.”
His ashen pallor making his black skin gray, Henry turned and placed the golden pin in the hands of the bugbear. The huge goblinoid took one look at the spider symbol upon the pin and instantly fell to its knees. Its companions clumsily followed suit, holding their bloodstained clubs against their chests in salute. Henry accepted the pin back from the guard, raised his hand in a vague attempt at benediction, then towed his rather awkward pack lizard past the guard-post and into the caves.
“There we are-simple!” Escalla, utterly invisible andtherefore not sweating in fear, waved to drow guards and merchants. “You see Jusover there?”
Carefully ignoring the pack lizard and Henry, Jus sat tied to a stalagmite near the lich’s cave. Polk had been tied to the opposite side ofthe same stone pillar, and the little man’s mouth was moving as he showered anunwanted soliloquy on empty air. Pulling his long, stark white locks from his face, the dark elf that was Private Henry peered over at his friends.
“Are they all right?”
“Pretty much. Polk just has to hope Jus doesn’t get one handfree.” Escalla nudged the boy with her battle wand. “All the trogs and bugbearsseem to be gathering at the warrens. Let’s get baby over there as innocently aspossible.”
The long canvas sausage, lumped and ugly, was covered by one of Escalla’s better illusion spells. Even so, the bobbing train of floatingshapes were a poor simulation of a giant pack lizard’s gait. Private Henry towedthe ungainly mass along through the air behind him.
Perhaps forty troglodytes snarled and fought over a vile, blood-filthy feast. Other troglodytes had gathered behind by the score, booming huge calls that shuddered through the air. Swarms of bugbears clustered nearby, glaring in naked hunger and envy at the feast.
Henry brought his lizard close to the flesh eating, blood spattered mob. Pale with fright, the boy fumbled, then tied the leash of his lizard to a stalactite only a few feet behind the snarling, jeering mobs of monsters. He breathed raggedly, his eyes bright with fright, and then felt an invisible kiss on his cheek.
“You all right, Hen?”
“Just fine.”
“Alrighty!” Escalla’s wings whirred like a dragonfly. “Juststroll over to Jus and wait for the fun!”
Henry tried to hold his loaded crossbow as innocently as possible. Wearing somewhat un-elven garments, he had already attracted side-wise glances from the drow. The magic sword Benelux gleamed gaudy and golden as it hung over his shoulder. The boy, trying to look nonchalant, began to make the long walk toward Jus and Polk.
A drow straightened his belt and began to make a determined course toward Henry. The deception could only last a few more seconds. Slapping her hands together, Escalla flew through the belly of her illusory lizard and began unplucking knots of hairy string. She whistled as she worked, the noise unheard over the roar and snarl of feeding troglodytes and the insults hurled by bugbear hordes.
The last knot untied, the tarpaulin jerked away and fell. As the paralyzed beholder thudded to the ground, Escalla tossed a magic floating disc beneath it and sent it scooting off to the north. Behind it, the canvas sausage suddenly disintegrated. Escalla turned and fled faster than any faerie had ever gone before.
The illusory pack lizard stretched, then came apart. In the packed central mob of feeders, food, audience, and jeering crowds, some heads turned-and then screamed in terror. Spreading up from the bursting body of thepack lizard came great bobbing, floating spheres-fleshy globes crowned with eyeson stalks and with fanged, snarling mouths.
The spheres began to scoot in all directions, propelled by internal gasses. The jammed hordes of bugbears and lizards froze in shock until a little voice pealed out across the cave.
“Hey, boys!” Thirty yards away, Escalla posed with aswarm of golden bees circling one fingertip. “Wanna see my party trick?”
Magic missiles flew out from Escalla’s fingertips and thuddedinto all eight floating gas spheres. The universe seemed to take a breath of shock. The troglodyte chieftain had time to swell his throat in the beginnings of a scream, and then one end of the cavern disappeared in a thunderous blast of light.
The gas spores detonated in an instant, each one exploding in a titanic fireball. Bugbears and lizards nearest to the spheres were atomized, while others flew backward as the flesh was blasted from their bones. The explosions rocked the cavern, shattering the ceiling of the warrens and bringing rock falls avalanching down. The ground shuddered. Ceilings collapsed. A few surviving monsters staggered, burned and screaming through the dust, to be crushed by rock falls cascading from above. The distant tribal warren dissolved as thousands of tons of rock collapsed in a massive cloud of debris.
Escalla gave a victory scream. With dust choking the air around her, she sat atop the paralyzed beholder, riding it like a juggernaut as it sped along on its floating disk. The girl fired a spell past Private Henry, turning cavern stone to bubbling mud and sinking drow to their deaths. Wide-eyed, the boy pelted toward the Justicar.
Drowning dark elves fired wild shots from their crossbows. Henry skidded to a halt beside Jus and Polk just as a crossbow bolt whizzed overhead to strike sparks from the cave wall. The boy dragged out a knife and hacked at the ropes binding Jus and Polk. Strands fell, and then suddenly Henry jerked in pain, a poisoned drow dart grazing the skin of his thigh. Escalla’sstoneskin spell had failed. Jus tore free and snatched the boy’s dagger from hisgrasp, hurling the knife straight into the archer’s groin.
Henry fell, alive but paralyzed. Jus reached for the sword at the boy’s belt, only to have a nasal female voice bellow at him from midair.
Not that one, fool!
The sword across Henry’s shoulders shot half out of itssheath. The handle was gaudy with jeweled unicorns, but the blade itself shone a brilliant white as though the blade were made from living light. Jus gripped the weapon and slid it free, feeling its pure, pleasurable weight singing in his hands.
Drow merchants leaped over their pack lizards, screaming in battle rage. Jus turned. In one split second he cut the legs from a drow in midair, decapitated another as it landed, and cut a swath in another that sprayed a fountain of blood. The last drow fired a crossbow. Jus angled the sword to send the crossbow bolt flickering off into the dark, saw the drow’seyes wince as the sword’s light flashed in its eyes, then an instant laterplunged the blade right through the creature’s guts. The drow folded, screamingout a spell. Its wound closed, the drow staggered back, only to be sheared in two by one massive, roaring swing of the pure white blade.
Body parts were still hitting the ground as Jus whirled and looked for targets. Echoing in his mind, the sword’s voice seemed a tad stunned.
You’ll be the Justicar. I, ah, I’m pleased to meet you.
Bugbears and troglodytes were staggering from the rubble. More drow guards were racing to the spot. Jus saw Escalla atop her strange floating mount, then the girl pointed behind him to the lich’s cave.
“Jus!”
A blast of ice-cold air swept forth, and the lich strode out of its lair. In one chilling glance the entity took in the disaster and destruction, then saw the Justicar standing in a ring of butchered drow. The monster gave a feral hiss, body crouching like a beast as it opened hands that streamed with magic spells.
From behind it, a raucous little voice screamed out across the cave. “Hey, handsome!”
The lich whirled. Two dozen yards away, a faerie in a ragged black silk dress sat astride a beholder. With a nasty laugh, Escalla wrenched open the lid of the beholder’s huge central eye, unveiling the monster’s angryglare.
A spell was already formed in the lich’s rotting mouth. Itscreamed the symbols of a death spell only to have the magic disappear. The beholder’s gaze shot out its ray of force, nullifying the lich’s magic andstripping it of its powers.
Jus raged forward, the white sword streaming with ligh
t, and the lich turned and ripped a small rod from the sleeve of its robe. Jus streaked his sword blade down, and the lich whipped up its hand, the rod shooting out to become a staff smothered in blood red runes. The sword blow was parried, but the sheer force of it blasted the lich back against the cavern wall. Screaming in fury, the undead sorcerer threw itself at Jus, the runestaff lunging for the ranger’s eyes.
The white blade flashed, sparks spitting as it hit the staff. Inhumanly fast, demonically strong, the lich fought with its staff, blurring blow after blow at Jus, each stroke met instantly by the human’s sword.
The lich leaped and lunged.
Jus parried the blow.
As the staff tip hit the floor, energy exploded outward, blasting chunks of rock apart. Light flashed and an insane scream of anger echoed through the halls. The lich staggered, a wound cut into its side, its flesh seeming to explode as its own substance began to disintegrate.
With the sword cut still spreading destruction into its mummified flesh, the monster roared and launched a series of mad attacks. It whirled, the staff striking, rock exploding and sparks flying as Jus fell back toward Escalla. Huge and solid, the ranger retreated, his sword moving in sharp, short motions, never once making an attack. Even so, the man began to slip his parries.
Seeing a sudden opening, the lich roared and lunged its staff forward at Jus’ heart, power raging along the runes and ready to blow livingflesh apart. Already moving, his bait taken, Jus spun on his axis, brushed the staff with his sword and sent it skimming a hair’s breath past his chest. In awhite blur, the sword swiped the lich’s head from its neck.
The sword screamed in triumph, utterly amazed. Well struck! Well struck! The weapon crowed in delight. Sir, I believe we shall get along famously!