Consequences (Majaos Book 2)

by Gary Stringer

  A pair of mounted silver dragons on aerial patrol intercepted the bronze. At the same time, Rochelle spotted Hannah among the sea of gold and passed on the information.

  “We need her,” Artisho said. “Well,” he amended, “you need her; you and your party.”

  “Is there anywhere I can land safely?” Brash asked the silvers.

  “The barracks are still secure,” one of them informed him.

  “Actually, I was thinking of somewhere a little closer.”

  “How much closer?” “How about...right here?” He coughed out a cloud of gas at their enemies on the ground and roared a warning to their allies, who scrambled to make room. Picking his spot, Brash stalled and plummeted toward the ground, wings unfurling to catch himself with scant inches to go. The vertical landing was rough, but both passengers managed to cling to his back.

  “Ah,” Brash remarked, “we bronzes may not be as fancy flyers as silvers, but ask one of them to execute a splashdown landing and you'll be out of luck.”

  Artisho patted his flank. “Well done, my boy. Very well done indeed.” Hannah had not failed to notice them and immediately turned to her commanding officer. He took in the situation with a single glance and said, “Go. We art almost finished here. Catch up with thy friends. Methinks thou hast much to discuss.”

  Hannah saluted with a fist over her heart and then ran over, leaping straight onto dragonback without breaking stride. Brash took off and flew them all back to the barracks. By the time they arrived, the shield fluctuations appeared to have stopped. Hannah's armour showed evidence of recent battle: bloodstains and mud, even the occasional scratch, but she had sustained no serious damage or injury. The Knight unbuckled her breastplate and immediately set to polishing it.

  “What happened here?” Rochelle asked. Hannah explained how the feasting had been interrupted by some bizarre lighting failures. It soon transpired that the effect was not localised or limited to the barracks, but appeared to be citywide. The lighting problems were followed by more serious failures of everyday magic and the populace began to experience pain, complaining that it felt as if their Life Store were being Drained. The Knights were unaffected, thanks to their ritual renouncing of all magic that was a condition of Knighthood. Duty and honour demanded that they therefore leave their festivities and venture out into the city to give what aid they could. Then the chaos creatures appeared, walking through the magical shield as if it wasn’t there.

  “That's because it really wasn't there,” Rochelle put in. “The fluctuations in magic affected the shield, too,” she explained. “In fact, I'd venture to say the shield was the intended target and the rest were just side effects.”

  “Why thinkest thou this is the case?” “Because we had a little run -in with Niltsiar at the Library. She couldn't just stroll in through a Corridor without the Enforcers noticing and presumably even she couldn't teleport through the shield, so she had to put some holes in it.”

  “So the chaos creatures didst enter Merlyon by way of these holes,” Hannah said, understanding. Both orders of Knights had been forewarned by their respective Dragon Cavalry Scouts, and each had sent a pair to investigate the strange magical disturbance in Central Merlyon. Brash knew from Hannah that Rochelle had gone to the Library and headed straight there to find her. The rest of the Knights were quick to mount a defence against the invaders.

  The City Guard also seemed to be spared the magical assault. Rochelle speculated that some Ancient magical system was responsible for the mass Draining of Life in order to restore the shield. However, it wouldn't make much sense to incapacitate the city's second line of defence in the process of strengthening the first.

  The guard were under orders to focus their efforts on evacuation and firefighting, engaging the enemy only in essential defence. The Knights were more than capable of handling the real battle and things seemed to return to normal...until the explosion.

  “I do perceive that thou knowest something about this phenomenon?” “You could say that,” Rochelle admitted. “We were nearly in it!” And so the druidess told her tale while Artisho dozed in a corner with his hat over his eyes, and Brash flew off to see if he could pick off any remaining chaos creatures.

  When she told of Ganieda, Hannah gasped in wonder. “Truly, friend Rochelle, thou art blessed, for thine eyes hath seen one of the Ancient Faerie - a very visitation of an angel hast thou received.”

  Rochelle couldn't argue with that.

  “So what now?” Hannah asked, after Rochelle finished her tale. “Now I need time to study some of these texts - I'm sure Eilidh will want to get her hands on them, too. The best thing, then, would be for us to go back to Shakaran. I seem to remember that you're acquainted with royalty there.”

  “Indeed so.” “Well I can't think of anywhere better than Shakaran Castle for safety and security.” “Couldst we not rather invite Eilidh and our friends here? If thou dost wish safety and security, here in the barracks we Knights canst most easily provide both, especially from behind the shield of magic.”

  “That would be the shield that just failed, and the barracks that are now deserted, while your comrades try to stop the chaos creatures from going on the rampage in the city, yes?” Rochelle pointed out.

  Hannah gave her friend a grim smile. “I take thy point, my friend, but even so, was this not merely a single, isolated incident in an otherwise invulnerable city?”

  The gnome shook her head. “You're forgetting something: Niltsiar is still here.”

  Hannah's eyeswidened. “Thou art certain of this?” “Of course she's still here!” Rochelle growle d, getting slightly annoyed at having to explain every simple little thing. Once again her theory about heavy helmets squashing Knights' brains sprang to mind.

  “Look,” she said, with exaggerated patience. “I told you that in order to enter the city, Niltsiar had to poke holes in the barrier, right?”

  Hannah nodded.

  “And that caused a massive disruption to the whole of Merlyon, yes?”

  Again the Knight nodded.

  “And some kind of defence system restored the shield, agreed?”

  Once more, the Knight just nodded. “So just how do you suppose she's going to leave? We know that she can't teleport through the active shield and she can't exactly stroll up to the Corridor port and ask the Enforcers very politely if they'd mind giving their mortal enemy access to the network. They couldn’t stop her, but they could destroy the Corridor entrance, if necessary. The only way Niltsiar can leave, then, is the same way she got in: by punching holes in the barrier, which will cause more disruption and let in more chaos creatures. Unless I've missed something, I don't think that's happened yet. Ergo, Niltisar is still in Merlyon.”

  “Thou art assuming that Niltsiar doth indeed intend to leave.” “You're right, I am,” Rochelle agreed after a moment's pause. “OK then, suppose she do esn't; suppose she's planning to build a base of power here. Do you still think this is a safe and secure location to plot her downfall just down the road from where she’s staying?”

  “Thine insight doth never cease to amaze me, my friend. As thou sayest, thou must needs return forthwith to Shakaran, bearing thy books thither.”

  “I'm glad you agree, let's go find Brash.” Rochelle turned to leave, but Hannah stopped her. “Alas, I cannot go with thee.”

  “What are you talking about, you can't go?”

  This outburst seemed to wake old Artisho, who echoed the druid's incredulity.

  “Quite so, my dear Miss Ribbons, quite so,” he agreed. “Do tell us, O Knight, by what folly dost thou propose to stay here?”

  “'Tis no folly, Old One. If all Miss Ribbons says is true, then my comrades need me, especially now.” “Indeed?” wondered Artisho. “Your friends need you -especially now!” He became quite agitated, banging his staff upon the polished wooden floor with a resounding thud. “Don't you understand? The books your friend holds are priceless. Priceless! The information they contain could be vital to
your quest - vital to the world. You joined Eilidh in the capacity of loyal protector. Rochelle now needs that protection! These books must be delivered safely to Shakaran with all haste! One Knight more or less will make no difference here. Fulfil your duties to the quest and your obligation to your friends - only then can you make a difference! Don't you understand? You must come. Now!”

  “I do indeed comprehend thee, Old One, but I am Knight Warrior Lady Hannah Collins of the Fourth Merlyon Infantry Division and my primary function is to obey the orders of my superior officer.”

  “Yes,” Rochelle allowed, “and he placed you on detached duty or some such thing, didn't he?” “No,” the Knight insisted. “He didst place Knight Initiate Lady Hannah Collins on detached duties. I hath since been promoted and such unusual orders cannot be assumed to continue unless they shouldst be reissued. So sayeth the Sacred Code of Paladinius.”

  Artisho rolled his eyes. “Rules, rules, rules. That's all you Knights are good for - playing by the rules. Well there is a time for rules and there is a time for doing the right thing. Now is the latter!”

  “That is neither for thee nor for I to decide, Old One,” Hannah disputed, calmly.

  “But-” Rochelle began, not really knowing what she was going to say.

  The Knight cut her off, insisting, “I must needs remain here pending further orders and there is naught else I can do.”

  “But the prince doesn't know me!” Rochelle pointed out. “True, but Princess Mystaya wilt recognise thee. Plus, I shalt give thee this,” she added, handing Rochelle a metal disk inscribed with the symbol of the Knights of Paladinia. “’Tis a Knight's seal, which shouldst help thee gainaudience in Prince Garald’s court. Then, shouldst permission be forthcoming, I shalt join thee as soon as may be.”

  “Bah!” Artisho spat. “I give up! Trying to talk sense into a human in a tin can...I ought to know better at my age! Come along, Rochelle, let's leave the Knight to her rules. We’d better leave Brash, too, in case she changes her mind, so it looks like we need to find an alternative means of transport. With Her around,” he mused, “we daren't trust the Corridor network in case somebody decides to proverbially shove their staff in the works. Not to worry, I think my pet sea serpent is around here somewhere…if I can just remember where I parked…Come on, Rochelle. We've got work to do.”

  Rochelle made one last non-verbal entreaty to Hannah, but her gold-armoured friend was unmoved. With a shrug, head slightly down, the druidess checked her grip on the book bag, and followed Artisho out of the barracks.

  Chapter 22

  The dark elf that stepped from the shadows in that crypt, arrow nocked and ready, Eilidh had seen only once before, many leagues away in the mine at Marina Fells.

  “Z'rcona!” she spat. The dark elf rolled her eyes. “What did you think? That speaking my name would make me break in two and disappear like in some fairytale? You are unworthy to use it, of course, that goes without saying. And ordinarily you would die for defiling it with your filthy human tongue, but my Mistress has rules against personal vendettas. I mean, she can't have her agents running around killing people who might otherwise be useful to her...and you, human, are going to be extremely useful to her. The Chosen One, eh? My, my, my, what a prize you are.” She looked the Catalyst up and down, lip curling. “Not much to look at, though, are you?”

  Eilidh's flip tongue took c ontrol to respond, “Why don't you save your insults for someone who cares? You've just told me how valuable and useful I am, which makes that arrow you've got pointed at me suddenly seem less than lethal.”

  “Maybe I'll just decide to give you a flesh wound.”

  “Maybe you'll miss.”

  “I never miss.”

  “Maybe you'll get lucky and kill me by mistake.”

  “I don't make mistakes.” “OK, so you shoot me, I'm still alive and you set another arrow, by which time my friends will kill you with sword, axe or magic, whichever you prefer.” Eilidh adopted an apologetic expression. “Sorry, but between you and me, while you're standing there all alone pointing that arrow at me...” her voice dropped to a sympathetic whisper “...you're just not that scary.”

  “But I'm not alone,” Z’rcona replied. Then she called out, “You might as well come and join me! Everything's under control!” Eilidh hadn't really had the chance to properly observe the other members of Z'rcona's party back in Marina Fells: the Catalyst and the dark cleric - both human – plus the only other non-human of the group, a hobbit warlock. But among them, one figure stood out: the Dark Knight, Sir Linarceo Leonis.

  He offered a solemn, courtly bow. “Greetings, madam. It is most agreeable to see thee again.”

  “Again?” Z'rcona wondered.

  “Dost thou not recognise this fine young lady?”

  The elf shrugged. “All humans look alike.” “We didst meet at that ill-fated hamlet, Marina Fells, whilst tracking down that traitorous sorcerer, Vorden.” “Ah yes, the late Vorden. Of course! Well I must say your little band is somewhat smaller than when we last met. And what about my `dear cousin`?” She taunted her. “I do hope nothing has happened to him.” She smiled a mirthless, chilling smile.

  “You can't possibly believe you're going to fool me that you care,” Eilidh retorted. “Oh but I do,” Z'rcona insisted. “When Her Divine Excellency rules all, I plan to revive all the old sports of my people. I want to make sure my `dear cousin` lives long enough to experience each and every one of them to the full before I watch him beg me to kill him, which I will...eventually...nice and slow. It would be a shame if he got himself killed before then.”

  That was more than Tolbrietta could stand.

  Eilidh shouted, “Toli, no!”

  But it was too late. The magician cast a hasty Starflare spell at the dark elf and the air exploded around her enemy. Z'rcona was quite unharmed. Z'rcona fired her arrow at Toli, and only a reflexive air-hardening spell saved her. Jayne made to draw her twin scimitars, but found them far too hot to touch. So hot, in fact, that they were welded into their scabbards. They would never come free again. Livid at losing such fine weapons, she went to launch herself forward anyway, but a look from Z'rcona left her rooted to the spot and gasping for breath as the air was removed from an invisible bubble around her head.

  Granite threw his battle axe at her, along with his best dwarven war cry, but the sound stuck in his throat and the axe turned into a bouquet of flowers in mid-air, which Z'rcona caught deftly, having discarded her bow and arrow as unnecessary.

  “Why thank you,” she mocked. “They're lovely. But I'm afraid you're just not my type. I like tall men.” Turning back to Eilidh, she said. “You see, I'm more impressive than you think. Your friends' lives are now mine, so do I have your cooperation, or do I get angry?”

  A common expression popped into Eilidh's head at that moment: `Her mind raced`. In adventure stories, when faced with insurmountable odds and imminent death, authors would write that the heroine's mind `raced`. Eilidh's mind did no such thing. It sat there, nursing the mental equivalent of a hamstring injury. The primal instinct in these circumstances, Eilidh considered, ought to be `fight or flight` - kill or run away– but she just stood there, cold and empty, devoid of all thought and sensation. This wasn't some intellectual puzzle, a test or examination. She wasn't faced with school bullies who at worst would tear up her homework or, if they were feeling especially bold, give her a bloody nose. There was no thinking her way out of this one. This was it; the end. Her adventure, her quest, her mission, her life - it was all over. She just prayed that somehow Master Gamaliel would learn of this and send someone else.

  With a deep sigh, her shoulders dropped and to the waiting Z'rcona, she said, simply, “I surrender.” “Good,” Z'rcona responded, simply, allowing Jayne the luxury of breathing once more. “I'll let you and my Knight in shiny black armour get reacquainted while I contact Her Divine Excellency. I'll only be a moment.”

  With that, the dark elf left the room.

  * * * * * La
dy Tanya Nightingale had been locked in a hushed-toned discussion with her Supreme Commander. Phaer tried hard not to eavesdrop, but his half-elven hearing made that difficult. Instead, he tried to focus intently on his internal thoughts and impressions – something of which Bunny had accused him more than once, so he supposed he should have no difficulty.

  The easy manner and casual tone between the two Knights of such extreme difference in rank was a revelation to the ranger. Comparing it to his admittedly limited knowledge and experience of Knights of Paladinia, he could not imagine such an exchange taking place between Hannah and the Lord High Chancellor. Indeed, his Knight friend had always spoken of superior officers with awe and reverence. He was sure that cross-rank familiarity would be quite impossible. Perhaps, to a certain extent, a bond might exist with her immediate commanding officer; Hannah had mentioned one Warren Mitchell if the half-elf's memory served him correctly. Even then, though, he got the impression that she would probably want to ask his permission before blowing her nose while on duty. Or even off duty...were Knights ever off-duty? He wondered.

  “Speaking of interfering,” Tanya spoke up at last, interrupting Phaer's thoughts, “I just think it's a shame your friend Callie will have to wait until Loric can learn all five skills. I mean, that could be a long time, right? Maybe - please forgive me, Loric - maybe too long. Is there any chance the Elder Dragon of Water could actually heal her himself?”

  “An aquatic dragon entering the Realm of Fire?” said Loric. “Not likely.” With this new development, The Elder Dragon reverted to her human form to more easily communicate. The strong and graceful female Knight that once more stood among them agreed with Loric. “Yes. Quite impossible.”