by Joseph Lallo
The ward flashed blue fire.
“AEiii!” Screaming in agony, he fell to his knees.
Sobbing in pain, he held his hands up before his disbelieving eyes. They were burned black from the discharge. The mages rushed him a second time, and he fought to free himself from their weight.
“Guards!” he howled, struggling beneath the combined weight of the mages.
Six armed and armoured men rushed into the great hall. Seeing their lord in peril, they drew swords and charged. Mathius saw the danger. He gestured toward the guardsmen, and a flickering blue ward sprang up; they ran straight into it. The ward crackled ominously and the men jumped back more wary than hurt. Mathius gestured again and they froze as if turned to stone.
Darius’ screaming abruptly ceased.
The grunting of straining men was the only sound in the hall. Gideon had quit his prayers and was staring at Darius in sick horror. Keverin stopped struggling and peered between robed bodies at the ward. There was a groan of dismay from all present when they saw what it contained. There was an old man standing where Darius should be. His jaw was locked open on a terrible but silent scream and his eyes stared blindly at a horror only he knew. The glow was fading now as it finished its terrible work. The last of Darius’ hair fell out as he watched and his straight posture crumpled. Darius fell to his knees and then onto his side. The terrible light seemed to drain out of him. It flickered fitfully then winked out. The ward continued to pulse and hum but at a much slower rate now.
He shoved at Renard and Wregan. “Let me up.”
This time they obeyed.
He climbed to his feet and moved to the ward. He leaned into it, hoping to push it out of the way, and cried out at the pain in his burned and bloody hands. “Arghh...”
He pushed harder. The ward brightened as it opposed his strength with its own, but it replied with less energy than before. It wasn’t enough to injure him. He looked to Renard hopefully, but the mage shook his head. It was hopeless. He turned back to his friend feeling utterly helpless and found the wreck of a man was smiling. What could he possibly...
He gaped as a hole opened in the air. Lightning crackled as it crawled over the floor then began climbing the walls of the ward. It quested for an opening like a vine reaching for the sun. Without warning the ward collapsed and he stumbled toward the gate. He barely had time to stop himself from pitching head first into it when he was flattened to the floor. He threw the man off, scrambled to his feet, and ran to Darius.
* * *
5 ~ New World
Julia landed. “Ow?”
She sat up and found that she was kneeling astride a darkly tanned man with long black hair frosted with grey at the temples. What the hell was he doing in here...
She gaped at her surroundings.
Her landing cushion shoved her unceremoniously onto the floor and ran off.
“Hey!” she called at his retreating back.
The man didn’t look back, but she was beyond caring about him. She was sitting on a patterned marble floor in a medieval throne room complete with guardsmen and a real throne. The pattern on the floor was like a coat of arms. There was a solid green circle with two gauntleted fists crossed in the centre. Above her head was a chandelier hanging from chains. There were four of them altogether. There must have been a couple of thousand candles up there, candles not bulbs, and the vaulted ceiling was supported by stone columns. There was something odd about them, but she couldn’t quite think of what it was.
The walls were covered in tapestries and banners—more banners hung at intervals from the ceiling. It was almost as if she was in a castle or something. She frowned at those huge columns again. They were very tall, but that wasn’t what had caught her attention. There was something bugging her about them, but what? They were all of one piece instead of in sections, and they looked too delicate to support the weight of the stone ceiling.
The tapestries depicted battles mostly, but some showed fanciful creatures like griffins and dragons. She looked back at the guardsmen who were busy ogling her. The swords looked okay, but the armour seemed to be made of leather. Shouldn’t they be wearing metal breastplates? She shook her head at her preoccupation. She should be in the gym! Had she hit her head when she fell? Yes, that was it! She was in a hospital and dreaming all this. She felt much better about her situation knowing that. She hoped it wasn’t serious. She needed to be fit for the games no matter what.
She stood and wandered around the hall, taking in the sights. No one took any notice of her as they tended to someone lying on the floor. Most of the men were wearing colourful robes. The blue ones were sort of nice, more like an aquamarine than plain blue. She didn’t think much of the yellow ones, but one man had decided to make a fashion statement by wearing green. On her right the guardsmen continued to watch her without moving more than their eyes. They were as motionless as statues and looked uncomfortable. She went over to introduce herself.
“Are you standing like that for a reason?” she said politely, when she would rather have told them to stop ogling her or she would slap them silly.
The man in the front was a sergeant if she understood the purpose of the chevrons on his armour. He glowered at her when his friends laughed, but when he didn’t answer her question, a man on his left did it for him.
“We’ve been magicked, young missy.”
“Shut yer face, Brian,” the sergeant growled.
“Magicked? Are you serious? Magic is all tricks and nonsense...” she began, but then swallowed nervously as she remembered they wore swords and this place definitely wasn’t her gym. “Isn’t it?”
“No,” the sergeant growled.
“Don’t say that where they can hear you,” Brian said, nodding at the robed figures. “The little one in green stuck our feet to the floor.”
Julia blinked. That wasn’t something she ever expected to hear. “Really?” she said incredulously. “Why don’t you take your boots off?”
The guardsmen gaped at her, and then looked sheepishly at their mates. As one, they unlaced their boots and started to pull their feet out of them. She tried to lift one of the vacated boots but she couldn’t move it. They really were magicked! She gratefully took ownership of a solvable problem. She badly needed one to keep her mind off the impossibility of what had happened to her.
“I’ll just go ask them to unstick these for you. It won’t take me a minute.”
“Wait! Don’t—” the sergeant began, and tried to make a grab for her, but his feet were still trapped within his boots.
She evaded him easily.
As she crossed the hall toward the robed men, she took in her surroundings and marvelled. It was an amazing place. She hadn’t thought her imagination was this detailed. Everything was so vivid and colourful. She studied a tapestry on one of the walls and loved it on sight. It was a cunningly woven landscape with dragons flying overhead, while on the ground below, more were roaring and blasting fire at soldiers in armour. The soldiers were winning of course, but that didn’t detract from the artistry. It was gorgeous. The colours were so vivid and lifelike—all the reds and the gold’s, it was wonderful work.
She tugged the sleeve of the man in green. “Excuse me. My friends would like their boots back, if that’s not too much trouble,” she said at her politest.
The man turned toward her with a distracted air about him. His eyes popped so wide in surprise, she thought they might fall out of their sockets. Anyone would think he’d never seen a woman before. He stared down at her as if mesmerised. She squirmed, feeling uncomfortable.
“Will you give them their boots back, please?” This time she sounded less polite. Behind her, the guardsmen groaned in unison.
The pimply faced man shook off his distraction. “I’m sorry, but your raiment... it’s a little... and I can see your...” he broke off and blushed. “Never mind. What did you want again?”
She sighed. Give me strength! Suddenly s
he did feel stronger and clearer headed. “I said,” she began slowly as if talking to a simpleton. “My friends would appreciate their boots back. Marble floors are cold.”
He glanced over her shoulder at the guardsmen and blushed again with embarrassment. He quickly went over to apologise with Julia following closely behind. “I am so sorry about this—truly. I didn’t want you to start fighting. You can see our lord is in no danger. Now let me sort this out.”
Julia watched the magician intently and blinked in amazement at what happened. It was weird, but she thought she saw... she didn’t know what it was but it was something. The man in green glowed with an inner radiance before something flew away from him to touch each of the boots in turn. After it touched the last one the glow faded away.
“There you are. You can put them on again now,” the magician said before inclining his head politely to her and leaving to re-join his friends.
Julia frowned at the retreating figure, trying to figure out what she’d seen him do. She shook her head and turned back to her new friends. “That wasn’t too difficult. Do any of you know what his name is?”
The sergeant seemed in better humour now that he could move without showing the holes in his stockings. She’d noticed they were in a terrible state.
“Sergeant Burke at your service, lady. That was Mathius.”
“He’s still a young’un,” another of the guards said. “An initiate.”
An initiate into magic he probably meant. She made a leap and guessed the green robe meant something. “How high is green?”
“Third rank, lady. The colours go: white, brown, green, yellow, blue, red, and black.”
Brian leaned around Burke’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t we get her some clothes? What she’s wearing might be all right for bedroom games, but we’re standing with the high and mighty here.”
“Good thinking. If you follow Brian, lady, he will get you some proper clothes.”
She was feeling a bit chilly in her leotard, so she ignored Burke’s emphasis and nodded her agreement. She followed Brian out of the throne room and into an entry hall. There were a pair of large doors directly ahead that opened into what she assumed must be a courtyard. She could only see a glimpse from here, but the ground did seem to have cobbles. The foyer was less ostentatious than the hall they’d just left, but it did hold some interest for her. The walls were decorated with huge portraits and a few colourful tapestries, but the floor was made of plain stone not marble. Granite if she was any judge. To the right and left a corridor stretched into the distance.
This place is BIG!
Brian frowned along each corridor in indecision.
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh nothing much miss,” he said frowning both ways again. “I’m trying to think of ways to get you into the women’s quarter without anyone seeing you. T’aint decent for a lady such as yourself to be seen in her night clothes.”
She grinned, nightclothes indeed. “My name is Julia, not miss. This is a leotard. I don’t sleep in it. It’s for gymnastics—do you know that word?”
Although he obviously wanted to, Brian was trying not to look at her. “No miss, I mean, Lady Julia. Do it be some kind of magic?” He finally succumbed and peeked at her before going bright red and looking away.
She sighed. Men could be such children. “Not as you mean it, but I must admit it does feel like magic if you perform well. Does your country have sporting events where everyone comes to compete?”
“We have a tournament in Devarr every few years. I think not this year though ‘coz of the war.”
“This tournament, what events do you have?”
“Sword play, archery, lance work, wrestling, boxing, and... oh, all sorts of things. The prize is a gold medallion with a picture on it. A sword for sword play, and a glove for boxing, and such like.”
“All of your events are about fighting. Don’t you have any for woman, like swimming, or running, or jumping?”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up. “Course! We have all of those, but women don’t compete. That wouldn’t be proper.”
“Oh really?”
Brian didn’t recognise the signs of her rising temper, and continued explaining the intricacies of honourable conduct where women were concerned. How a real man had to protect a woman, and how certain things like her physical welfare and modesty were to be safeguarded. It all sounded very old fashioned and tiresome to her.
Grateful for an excuse to interrupt him, she nodded toward a pretty tapestry on the wall. “How about you take that down for me? I could wrap it around myself, you know, for modesty,” she didn’t quite roll her eyes. “Someone’s coming.”
Brian glanced over his shoulder to see who she meant, and yelped in dismay. He climbed onto a chair to tug the tapestry down. It was a nice one. It had pictures of horses running along a river. The spray was clearly defined and the colours were vivid. It must have taken years to make. He quickly wrapped her in it, and snapped to attention as the man reached them.
The newcomer was about a head taller than she was, making him about five feet ten inches. He was heavily muscled in the shoulders and beardless. The tight leather trousers he wore displayed his muscled legs to perfection. His sheathed sword was thrust through a blue sash tied tightly around his waist, and he wore the sculpted leather armour that all the soldiers used. The emblem on his right pectoral—crossed fists over a solid green circle—was the same as she’d seen decorating the floor of the throne room, and it matched the one on Brian’s chest exactly, but the newcomer was obviously of higher rank. Brian’s reaction was a big clue.
She didn’t think the armour offered much protection against the swords all the men carried, unless it had some kind of hidden strength. He was wearing his dark hair long with a leather band around it to create a ponytail, and diagonally across his chest from left shoulder to right hip he wore a blue sash.
“Report!”
“Darius died, sir. He made a wall out of light and brought Lady Julia here through a hole in the air!” Brian said in awe. “I’m taking her to the women’s quarter now, sir.”
“Darius is dead you say?”
Brian nodded. “He was glowing like the sun and then he fell. He was an old man, sir.”
“Hmmm. The lord?”
“He’s very upset. The mages stopped him from hurting himself.”
The newcomer’s lips thinned. “But he’s well?”
“Yes, sir.”
Julia listened as Brian concisely reported the facts. She was extremely interested to hear about Darius, who it seemed had died trying to summon her to this place. Served him right too. She’d been minding her own business and then wham! Here she was.
The captain turned toward her with a supercilious smile on his face.
You... I... do... not... like.
He inclined his head in a small bow. “Lady Julia, I am Marcus. As you can see,” he indicated the blue sash, “Senior Captain. I will escort you to the women’s quarter if you wish.”
Actually, Romeo had a very nice voice, but she had no intention of going anywhere with him. “That’s very kind of you, Captain, but I thought I heard your lord roaring about someone called Marcus just a few moments ago. Are there perhaps two people of the name here?”
The captain’s smile wilted and he hastily excused himself to enter the hall. She listened intently and grinned as someone called to him.
“Marcus, good! I have something I need you to—”
Brian looked at her strangely. “How did you know, Lady?”
She shrugged. “I just made it up. I have a feeling I wouldn’t like to be alone with your so Senior Captain Marcus.”
Brian nodded, and with a flourish of one hand, he indicated the way. They began walking. “He knows his job, no question of that, but I’ve heard from the serving girls that he takes... you know... liberties! One girl said he slapped her on the... on her rear.”
She gaped in disbelie
f. Brian sounded positively scandalised. Perhaps she’d been a little hard on Marcus if all he’d done was pat some girl’s rump. The more she heard, the more she realised this place took protecting women entirely too far. In most women’s minds that would be good news, but she was starting to realise how wearying something like that could be. She wouldn’t be able to leave the castle without armed escort, wouldn’t be able to compete in the tournaments. She would go mad with boredom living like that.
“What do women do for amusement around here?”
“Lots of things. They make the tapestries and clothes. They read poetry and write some as well, but music is the best.”
Actually, she might enjoy learning how to make a tapestry like the one she was wearing, and the music sounded all right, but the poetry was definitely out!
Brian kept them walking for what seemed an age.
She didn’t know how she would ever remember her way around, because so far, she hadn’t seen a window anywhere. The place was enormous. It must cost a fortune to run something this size. The lord of this place lived like a king—unless he actually was one. She hadn’t thought of that. The entire place was probably built on the suffering of the peasants. The thought turned her stomach.
“This castle must cost a fortune. How does your lord pay for it all?”
“This is Athione, Lady,” Brian said as if the name should mean something to her. “It’s one of the four great fortresses of Deva. Lord Keverin pays for it all—he’s rich!”
She sighed. “I can see he must be rich, Brian, but did he tax the poor to get rich?”
Brian goggled at the idea.
Perhaps not then.
“The Founders built The Four with sorcery, Lady.” Brian said reverently. “The lord pays us well for being here. The only taxes he gets are from his tenants and farmers—only one copper in twenty. Traders give him one copper in ten. That’s one reason, the least important one, why everyone is so loyal to Athione.” They turned another corner of the maze. “The King taxes everyone four coppers in ten.”
The way Brian explained the situation spoke volumes about his opinion of the King. It fairly shouted his outrage at the idea of taxing so heavily. It sounded as if this Lord Keverin was ahead of the times. By taxing low he attracted more people and trading. He would gain more by that than taxing high.