by Joseph Lallo
Venk looked down at the proffered gift, which turned out to be dusty, tarnished, metal arm band about three inches wide and half an inch thick.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Put it on. Breslin, you do the same. Even you, Tristofer.”
Kasnar handed Breslin and Tristofer an identical arm band and waited for them to put it on.
Breslin stared disbelievingly at the ugly metal band and eyed his grandfather as though he had gone ne.
“What good is this going to do me?”
“You’ll thank me later. Now, do you see that device down on the shelf, next to your left knee?”
“Aye.”
“Take that.”
“What is it?”
“Something we’re going to need. Let’s see what else we have in here. Ah. Master Venk, here lad, you take this.”
Venk picked up a device loosely resembling a crossbow, but without its limbs. Instead of an arrow track for the bolt to sit in there was another row of metal tubes forming a cylinder. A metal wheel with a small protuberance was situated on the right side. The undersides of the device, directly to the left of where the metal tubes were, had a small rectangular opening with grooves in all four corners.
“What’s this?” Venk asked in a hushed tone. No sense in giving away their location if they didn’t have to.
Kasnar wasn’t listening. The tiny fellow was down on his knees, searching frantically for something on the lower shelves.
“Why put it in here if there isn’t any… Ah! Here we are!”
Kasnar slowly regained his feet and held out an object that was about a foot long by six inches wide. The top of the thing was rectangular shaped, and had grooves on all four corners. Venk turned the device over and compared the rectangular opening with that of the object Kasnar had given him. They were a perfect match. Venk gingerly pushed the narrow object into the device until he heard it click. The device made a few more clicks before falling silent.
“Now, turn that there and it’ll be ready. Here, I found several more canisters. Keep them on you.”
Venk smiled. He finally figured out what he was holding. This was a smaller version of the arrow shooter that Rahygren had used on them. The rectangular object he had inserted into this weapon had to contain mini arrows.
As he looked back at Kasnar, he spotted the four other cartridges that had been dumped at his feet. Fastening them into place on his belt and several open loops on his baldric, Venk turned to see Kasnar pointing at shields small enough to be suitable for underlings. He had Lukas take one while Tristofer took the other.
Everyone cringed as a loud crash was heard through the door. Someone began pounding on the wall.
“Slide that bolt over there,” Kasnar urged his grandson, pointing to the top right corner of the door. “That’ll keep the door from opening in case they find the release for it.”
Breslin shoved the bolt up into the ceiling and hooked it into place.
“I hear you in there! There’s nowhere to hide, fools! Surrender!”
When it became clear that no one wanted to take Rahygren up on his more than generous offer to give up, more crashing could be heard, followed closely by a sharp set of commands.
“What’s he saying?” Venk whispered.
“He’s called for something to be brought here,” Breslin whispered back. “I couldn’t make it all out. Something about a disruptor.”
Tristofer nervously shook his head. “That can’t be good.”
Breslin pushed his way past his companions so that he could talk to his grandfather. He held up a shiny object the size of his water bag.
“So what is this? What am I supposed to do with it?”
“I’m not sure,” Kasnar admitted sadly. “I’ve read about the portable arrow shooter, and therefore recognized its components immediately. I remember reading something about other weapons that were brutally effective in close quarters, and I suspected that’s what it was as soon as I saw it. As to what it does I don’t think anyone knows.”
“What if it doesn’t do anything?” Breslin asked. “Why bother taking it?”
“Because you’re standing in an armory, lad,” Kasnar patiently pointed out.
“While I appreciate the thought that you’d want us to be able to protect ourselves,” Tristofer began, holding the small shield as though it belonged to a small child, “but I cannot see how this will be that much of a help.”
Kasnar turned to whisper something in Breslin’s ear. He turned to look at his grandfather, skepticism written all over his face.
“Really?”
Kasnar nodded.
Breslin was suddenly holding the power hammer and made a move to conk Tristofer over his head. Two things happened at the same time. The metal bracelet that Kasnar had given the scholar suddenly glowed and rapidly expanded into a three foot by three foot metal square. Also, the small child-sized shield that he had been given clicked loudly and rapidly expanded its size, becoming a durable, lightweight, full-sized shield.
Tristofer was impressed. “Very well. You talked me into it. I’ll keep it.”
Kasnar shook his head. “A wise move, lad.”
Fifteen minutes later Rahygren’s voice called out to them from within the king’s private chamber.
“This is your last warning! This is the only deal I’ll make with you. Surrender now and give up the hammer! That’s the only reason you’re still alive.”
“How many are out there?” Kasnar suddenly asked.
That drew Breslin up short. He turned to stare at his grandfather.
“What? Can this not wait? There are more important things to worry about.”
“Answer me, boy.”
“Including Rahygren, five. Maybe six, depending on whether or not the guard Athos lured away was with the original group. Why do you want to know?”
“You do realize that as of right now we outnumber them?”
“Aye, we do, grandfather, but in this scenario, we can’t count you, Lukas, or Tristofer as being combat ready. Therefore we number three, and at the moment, with Athos out there somewhere, we number two.”
“We have the advantage,” Kasnar stated.
“In what way?”
“They don’t know the true power of the hammer.”
Breslin was unimpressed.
“So? Neither do we.”
“We show them.”
“And risk Lukas?” Breslin shook his head. “I will not involve an underling in any way.”
“Lukas is already involved,” Kasnar pointed out, “whether you like it or not.”
A loud commotion sounded outside the door. Someone pounded on a nearby wall.
“Come out now and I promise to let you live!”
“You promise us?” Breslin barked back. “What does the word of a thief and kidnapper mean to us? Absolutely nothing! This is my final offer. You and your men lay down your arms. If you do that –”
A rumbling began and grew steadily stronger. Everyone clapped their hands over their ears as an earsplitting shriek rent the air. Higher and higher the piercing noise rose, attaining a decibel level that could rupture eardrums with prolonged exposure. Armor and weapons were knocked off their shelves and displays as the tremors grew in intensity.
“This is it!” Tristofer wailed. “This is the end! We must surrender! We must…”
Venk snatched a gilded mace from the ground and conked it over Tristofer’s head. The scholar collapsed into a heap.
Lukas stared at his father with wide-eyed astonishment.
“Been wanting to do that for quite some time now,” Venk muttered angrily to himself.
The deafening wail was so loud now that no one could hear each other speak. He nervously eyed his son. He had no idea how they were going to get out of this predicament.
****
Quietly he crept through the deserted streets, keeping his back to the shadows. He strain
ed his ears to listen for any other sounds in the quiet, tomb-like city, however the only sounds he could hear were the loud wheezes his own breaths were making. He had lost track of which way was north, and as such, had become hopelessly lost.
Cursing his foul luck, Athos darted across a row of abandoned buildings and knelt down next to a large pile of rubble. Glancing behind him, and then up, revealed that the rubble had once been the top corner of a building that had long since collapsed. Once more he held his breath and listened. Was it his imagination? It sounded like a high-pitched buzzing noise had started, and it was coming from slightly behind him and to the right.
Determined to learn what it was that was making the noise, Athos rose cautiously to his feet. He hadn’t made it more than three steps when a sharp voice drew him to a stop.
“Oi! Waxrobbe! Where the hell have you been?”
Athos turned to see one of Rahygren’s henchman standing at the nearest intersection. He angrily beckoned him over.
“Those bastards have holed up somewhere in the palace. Let’s go! Stop dawdling about and move your arse!”
Athos grunted in way of acknowledgement. With the visor on his helmet down, the mercenary had no way of learning his true identity, unless he ventured too close. Athos hesitantly shuffled closer.
The thug in Narian armor cocked his head and put his hands on his hips.
“Dragon got your tongue? Since when are you this quiet?”
Athos cursed silently to himself.
“Say something, old friend.”
The goon turned to pull his axe free from its holder on his back, but as luck would have it, the axe snagged on one of the many leather straps holding the Narian armor in place. He took his eyes off of Athos for only a moment to see what his axe had snagged on.
A moment was all Athos needed.
As soon as he was no longer being watched, Athos pulled his green orix from its holder and with a quick flick of his wrist, snapped it open. Athos sighted his target, lined up the shot, and flung the weapon out.
Disentangling the axe from the leather straps holding his stolen armor in place, the mercenary finally turned back around to glare at the impostor. He took a threatening step forward.
“What’d you do to Waxy? Where is he?”
By now the orix had completed its journey around the buildings and was on a return course. The air whistled softly as the orix spun by, causing Rahygren’s man to look up in confusion. Venk couldn’t have timed it any better if he had tried. The orix collided with the golden plumed helmet the henchman was wearing and knocked him out. Cold. The unconscious dwarf fell forward, landing on his knees. However, he didn’t fall forward, as the armor propped the unconscious dwarf up within the suit.
Athos chuckled as he eyed the inert form of the mercenary. It was as though the suit of armor had been animated, like a marionette, and had its strings cut, plopping it straight down to lay, discarded, like an unwanted toy. He leaned forward and gave the inert form a not-so-gentle poke with his axe. The armor toppled to the side, taking the mercenary with it.
After using the thug’s own baldric and belt to immobilize him, Athos retrieved his orix and paused. There it was again: a distant rumble followed closely by a persistent buzzing noise. Whatever it was, it clearly had to be in the direction he needed to go.
Letting his ears guide him through the city, Athos finally returned to the palace door and noted, with dismay, that the door hadn’t been sealed. He jumped over the mangled remains of the chair wedging the huge door open and ventured inside, weapons at the ready. Thanks to the gold chain embedded in the walls, he was able to see the fresh sets of tracks on the dusty floor, and they all led in the same direction: northeast.
Having long forgotten how many hallways and empty chambers he passed through, he continued to follow the loud buzzing. Every step closer seemed to make the buzzing increase in volume, until Athos stopped to tear off a couple of small pieces of his undershirt and stuff them into his ears. He could still hear the buzzing, but at least now it didn’t feel like the sounds were trying to implode his skull.
He had been creeping down a long hallway and had approached another arched door when he hesitated. The floor was trembling, as though a dragon was on the other side of the door and was pacing around. Was this some sort of weapon? If so, who was wielding it? Athos cautiously poked his head through the door.
There was Rahygren and two of his henchmen. The three of them were huddled over a strange device that was sitting in a small cart. It was at least two feet long and also two feet high, with a depth of about a foot. The black rectangular apparatus had several spinning dials on the top of it, with a clear glass pane on the front. Three or four rotating gears could be seen deep in the heart of the machine. On the left side of the device, aimed directly at an unobtrusive section of wall, was a large gray cone. Both Rahygren and his companion wore padded leather helmets.
Athos watched as first Rahygren spun a dial on the top of the machine one way, frowned at it, then spun it back the other direction. The mercenary, mimicking his boss, gingerly spun the dial closest to him. Rahygren frowned again and angrily batted the henchman’s hand out of the way. In a desperate attempt to appear as though he knew what he was doing, Rahygren touched a small green button to the left of the gray cone. The device responded by vibrating uncontrollably, almost rattling itself right off the cart. The henchman, having witnessed his boss pressing the button, slapped his own hand on the button, silencing the machine instantly.
Rahygren was furious. “I know what I’m doing. Do you not remember me telling you that I’ve used this before? Don’t touch anything!”
Shrugging, the mercenary stepped away from the machine and watched Rahygren reset the device and aim it back at the nearby wall. Seconds later the loud buzzing was back. The mercenary pointed at a spot to the right of where the machine was targeted. Rahygren said nothing, but he did angle the device a few degrees to the right. The two of them both glanced disinterestedly at the raw gouge six feet high and several feet deep left in the wall by the pounding audio waves. They still hadn’t found whereabouts in the wall they were hiding. Gritting his teeth, Rahygren vowed to find the intruders and deal with them in the same manner as he had dealt with every other person that had managed to stumble across the city.
Deciding that there was nothing behind this section of wall but more stone, and deciding to give the ancient machine a temporary reprieve from its active service, Rahygren spun a few more dials and powered the machine down. The level of carnage the disruptor had created was severe and he was hoping to see something that would indicate they were in the right spot. He knew that the intruders had entered this chamber, and since there weren’t any footprints exiting, they clearly had to be in the room. Somewhere. It would just be a matter of time before they were found. He just had to be patient.
From just behind the open doorway, still hidden from sight, Athos removed the heavy ornate helmet from his head and stuck a finger in his right ear and jiggled it about a bit. His ears were ringing, and ringing badly. Athos eyed the device both Rahygren and his henchman were fussing over. He figured the device must generate strong audio signals and with that cone on the one side of it, could be focused on a single spot. Prolonged exposure would result in the reverberations breaking apart whatever it was aimed at. In this case, the disruptor was trying to punch a hole through the wall but as they’ve yet to find the hidden compartment Breslin and the others must be in, Athos figured their discovery was inevitable. He had to do something!!
Athos slipped an orix out from its holder under his chest armor. He flicked it open and readied a throw. With his sights set on the back of Rahygren’s head, Athos swung his arm back and prepared to strike him down when all hell broke loose. The section of wall just a few feet to the right of where Rahygren’s device was targeting exploded outward, but in a geometrically perfect circle. Everything in the circle’s path was flung violently backwards, and that included Ra
hygren, his helper, and the device. Athos had barely enough time to duck back through the door when the blast reached him. He was thrown back against the wall and almost knocked out.
Blinking stars out of his vision, Athos rose painfully to his feet and gingerly poked his head back into the room. Rahygren and his follower were sprawled out on the ground, covered with bits of gray quartz and larger chunks of what used to be the wall. Once more the Narian armor kept its wearer safe as it absorbed the full power of the blast. Both were slowly stirring.
Athos quickly scanned the room as he looked for the disruptor. There it was. It was heavily damaged, as the glass pane on the front of it had shattered and several of the metal gears were dented. There was no way this device would be powering back up.
“Hold the hammer next to it again,” a familiar voice was saying. “Charge it back up!”
Athos glanced at the circular opening in the wall.
“Tristofer, I’m a little busy here,” Breslin snapped and surveyed the room. He clenched his teeth as he spotted Athos, thinking it was another of Rahygren’s men.
Athos waved his arms back and forth, giving Breslin a thumbs up. Recognition flashed on Breslin’s face as he nodded. Breslin hopped through the perfect circle that had been cut through the solid stone and motioned for the others to follow.
Right about then one of the mercenaries regained full use of his senses and clambered noisily to his feet. He spotted Breslin and instantly reached for his belt, pulling a small object off in the process. The object was twisted this way and that before it was finally thrown straight at Breslin and his companions.
Breslin, for his part, had spotted the object as it was thrown and correctly guessed that it was another artificial boulder. Sure enough, the boulder rapidly expanded its size in midair as it hurdled towards Breslin. As before, Breslin stood his ground and gripped the power hammer tightly, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at the metal boulder.
There was a loud clang as Breslin’s hammer made contact. The synthetic Narian boulder instantly reversed course and flew backwards on a direct trajectory back to its original thrower. The shock wave that the impact generated swept through the room, knocking over anyone who wasn’t wearing Narian armor. Those that were wearing the special armor were knocked backwards a few paces but stayed upright.