The God-Stone War m-4

by Michael G. Manning

  I waved my hand to indicate that I wasn’t upset. Just moments before I had been convinced of the same thing, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the poison’s purpose had probably just been to render me unable to fight, and if that were the case, then it probably wasn’t something lethal that I had been given. Ultimately the goal would still be to kill me, but my death would probably come as a result of the assault on the castle, rather than because of whatever had been put in my drink or food.

  I explained my reasoning to Walter, as well as describing the primary effect the poison was having, namely the complete suppression of my magical abilities. As I spoke his face grew pale, and rather than finding reassurance, my friend seemed to be becoming more anxious. Finally I stopped talking and just stared at him. “What?” I asked.

  “It’s magebane,” he replied simply, as if that one word was enough.

  “You’ll have to explain. I’m afraid I’ve not heard the term before,” I told him, but even as I said it, the word tickled the back of my mind, stirring one of my ‘other’ memories, a memory of a classroom from a time well over a thousand years past. In my mind’s eye I saw a thin, balding man pacing in front of his students while discussing what had seemed at the time to be an interesting, but useless bit of trivia. The plant we call ‘magebane’ today, was originally called ‘glintel’s flower’, and supposedly was one of the few things known to be highly poisonous to the She’Har. It was renamed later when it was discovered that, while it had been thought to be harmless to humans, it is in fact deadly when given to those with any degree of magical ability.

  “I know only what my father taught me,” said Walter, “According to him, it was a deadly poison manufactured to kill wizards. It was used by some assassins not long after the Sundering. Though it can’t be proven, it was thought that the secret of making it was held by one of the four churches.”

  “Did he happen to tell you how it might be countered?” I asked without much hope.

  “No. He said no one knew what the poison was made from, and neither did they know of an antidote. It completely suppresses magical ability in the short term, and most victims die a painful death a few days later,” Walter’s voice was apologetic as he finished.

  “This is still better than I expected,” I told him with a wan smile.

  “What?”

  I laughed sardonically. “When I came in here, I was expecting you to tell me that we were under attack by one of the gods, in person. Without my power, I figured the two of us would die trying to tr…,” I paused as I realized I had been about to give away one of my closest secrets. “…trying to keep them from getting the stone,” I amended.

  “How would you fight them without your magic?” asked the other wizard.

  “The barrier enchantment still works, though my own strength is gone,” I told him by way of example. “I’ve spent years preparing for this. I have other surprises waiting, though I’ll still need your help, since I can no longer sense magic.”

  “So you planned on volunteering me to assist you in your last stand?”

  “It was either you or one of your children,” I said with a shrug.

  Walter flinched at the thought, “Point taken.”

  “I’m a father too. I figured you’d agree with my reasoning.”

  “I still don’t see how this is better than what you expected,” he replied.

  “If it’s just high-powered warriors assaulting us, we can win easily, which means you don’t have to die as well,” I explained.

  “Better still, I’ll take you to Lancaster. If there’s any chance that Lady Thornbear can help, then you should take it. I can return and help the knights repel these invaders,” Walter suggested.

  As he spoke, I couldn’t help but remember the man I had first met, a man so gentle and unused to violence, that he cried when he thought he had killed one of his enemies… a man afraid to face the shiggreth with me. Then I remembered the stories of what had happened when he went to rescue his wife and children, only to be told that they had been killed. He didn’t find out until almost a day later that his family was still whole, but that was too late for the men that had held them prisoner. Walter had hunted the survivors mercilessly through the wilderness.

  It made me a bit sad to think that such a kind soul had become acclimated to violence, just as I had. I pushed the thought aside; what was done was done. “You are probably right, but I will at least wait until the evacuation is done,” I replied.

  He shook his head in resignation, “Your stubbornness will be the death of you, Mordecai.”

  “Stupid never dies,” I said in rebuttal, but Walter didn’t laugh. If Marcus had said that, it would have been funny, I thought to myself sourly.

  A faint vibration passed through the ground, and a small bit of dust sifted down from the ceiling. Walter’s eyes widened in shock, “What the hell was that?”

  “A bit of dry wit,” I shot back, “no need to act so surprised.” I knew very well that he was referring to something else, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

  “Something powerful just struck the barrier,” said Walter, ignoring my second attempt at humor.

  And that would be one of the gods, accompanying his enhanced warriors, I thought with a sinking stomach; so much for seeking an antidote. My heart sank, as my short lived bit of hope died a quick death, but rather than panic I took refuge in sarcasm, “Could you at least pretend to laugh at one of my jokes?” I said petulantly. “Dying wouldn’t be half so miserable if you’d just let me think I was funny.”

  Walter gave me a look I had seen many times, the ‘is he serious or just crazy?’ look. After a moment he gave up and went to the stone pedestal that controlled the barrier enchantment and the magical windows we had crafted. As he activated the various ‘windows’ one by one I was annoyed to realize that without my magesight, I could see very little through the tiny glass panes. That hadn’t really seemed like a problem before, when all I needed was a small opening to sense everything beyond it.

  When he got to the window that looked out from the town gate, Walter visibly stiffened, and his hands gripped the stone pedestal, as if he needed it to remain standing. Without my senses, I was effectively blind to what he was experiencing, but the memories of my battle with Celior were still with me, and I could guess that he must have opened a window close to where one of the gods was standing. He’s being overwhelmed by the oppressive aura they have around them, I realized.

  I had barely withstood the same thing by armoring my mind with every bit of strength I had possessed, and even then I had been unable to move. I’d had to draw upon the power of the earth to completely resist the effect. That’s how powerful they were. Walter wasn’t an archmage, and his power as a mage was probably less than half of my own. He didn’t have a chance in hell, unless I could close the windows… and I needed magic to activate the controls, even if it was just a tiny bit.

  Frustrated, I watched him struggle, as the god slowly crushed his mind. He had gone pale now, and his knees buckled, which caused him to sag slowly downward beside the pedestal. Only his hands, which were tightly gripping the sides, kept him from falling. Rising as quickly as I could, I tried to hold him up, though I knew it was a futile gesture. It didn’t really matter if I kept him standing, if an immensely powerful, supernatural creature destroyed his mind… or worse, possessed him. “Damnitt!” I cursed helplessly.

  Just as I thought he was lost, Walter stood up again. His body had relaxed, and his hands released the stone pedestal. “It’s alright,” he reassured me, and reaching out he touched the runes and deactivated the window portals.

  I watched him suspiciously. He couldn’t have resisted something like that. It’s taken his mind, I thought, but I held my tongue. “What happened?” I asked instead.

  He gave me a tired smile. “I don’t have your strength, Mordecai, but I have other ways. I was overwhelmed at first, but then I made myself invisible to magic.”

 
His words confused me for a moment before I realized what he meant. In the past we had learned that just as making yourself invisible to normal light made you blind, so making yourself invisible to magesight made you unable to sense magic. He hadn’t stood up to the god’s mental assault directly; he had made himself unable to ‘feel’ it. “That was damned clever!” I said clapping him upon the shoulder.

  “They’re inside Washbrook,” he said, ignoring my compliment. “The barrier around the town is broken already.” His face was downcast.

  “Is the gate between the castle and the town still open?” I asked.

  He nodded, “No, I closed it just now.”

  “There are probably still townsfolk trying to get into the castle. You have to check that gate,” I told him.

  Fear was written on his face. “If I open the window and that god is there, I don’t know if I will be able to escape his grasp again.”

  “So it was either Doron or Karenth?” I questioned.

  “I’m not sure, but I got the impression it was masculine,” Walter answered.

  I filed that away mentally before continuing, “The castle gate is on the opposite side of Washbrook from the town gate, they probably haven’t gotten that far yet, but I’d bet my arm there are townsfolk trying to get through.”

  “If you’re wrong…,” said Walter carefully, letting the sentence trail away without finishing it.

  We both knew the risk. “Do it,” I told him.

  Reaching out, he touched the stone pedestal again and another of the glass squares lit up as light began passing through it. Knowing that I’d have difficulty seeing, I had positioned myself close to it to get a better view, wishing again that I still had my magesight. Even as poor as my view was, I could see that a crowd of people were beating against the invisible wall of force that my barrier enchantment had created. Guards stood on the inside. They had opened the physical gate, but were helpless to allow anyone through the magical barrier. People were screaming to be let in, and the guards were frantic to help them.

  “Open the barrier for them!” I shouted.

  “He’s close, Mordecai! I can feel him already, and his warriors are at the outskirts of the crowd!” Walter replied desperately, indecision warred within him.

  My own decision seemed crystal clear, “Open the gods-damned gate! The Knights can deal with those of the enemy who slip through! Now!”

  Walter opened the gate, and the people flooded through, spilling into the courtyard while the soldiers and two of the Knights of Stone stood back to let them pass. It took what seemed like an eternity for the crowd to push through, and even after the initial press there was still a steady stream of stragglers coming through. Some of the enemy’s fighter’s came through as well.

  Ignoring the people, they raced through on feet that seemed to have sprouted wings. Their movements were such that they had slipped through the crowd and past the castle defenders before they could be stopped. At least eleven or twelve of them came through the crowd in a rush.

  Not all of them made it past the guards, however. One quick young soldier managed to tangle the legs of one of the foreigners, sending him into a sprawling roll. Two other guards stepped forward, and thrust their spears through his midsection before he could regain his feet, but the man ignored the wounds and stood anyway. His lips split wide in a bloody grin as he ran up the spear one of the guards held, and brought his heavy iron mace down upon the startled man’s head. Blood and brains flew in all directions.

  The soldiers of Cameron Castle looked on in dismay and disbelief, fear taking root in their hearts. For a moment the battlefield seemed to freeze, as the soldiers morale wavered, then Sir Ian’s two handed sword took the man’s head and upper torso off in a clean sweep. “They’re berserkers, but they can still die!” he shouted to the defenders, and as quickly as that, the spell was broken. The defenders took heart and renewed their attacks on those of the enemy that remained within reach.

  It broke my heart to watch them fight through the tiny window, but I had no way to help them. Walter’s voice caught my attention, “He’s here!” The light from the window was replaced by a view of the cold stone that lay behind the glass, as he shut off our view and closed the barrier’s gate. My last sight was of a woman and her child running for the gate. They, and many others, didn’t reach it in time. All my plans and preparations, and yet I still failed to protect them, I realized. My own pride and cleverness blinded me to the possibility that they might just be cunning enough to do something like this.

  I slid back down against the wall. Nausea, brought on by the poison combined with my own remorse, and I felt hot tears leave burning tracks down my cheeks.

  Before I could get far in my self-recriminations, Walter interrupted me, “What’s next?”

  Taking a deep breath I wiped my face and looked up. “Now we wait, until whichever god it is breaks the barrier.”

  “That’s it?!” said Walter in a voice that had an edge of hysteria in it. “I thought there was a plan?”

  “There is,” I explained, “but it begins after the people are evacuated, and the barrier comes down. After that we begin a deadly game of cat and mouse.”

  “Which part do we play?”

  I laughed wryly, “Without my power? We play the mouse.”

  Chapter 21

  Penelope Illeniel, the Countess di’Cameron, strode briskly through the corridors, while the two women with her hurried to keep up. She carried her sheathed longsword in one hand and struggled to keep her pace slow enough for Rose and Elaine to stay with her. That wasn’t much of a problem for Elaine, but given Rose’s condition, she was having more difficulty. She was slightly over seven months pregnant, and her swelling belly presented a significant obstacle to moving at anything beyond a normal walk.

  “Penny… please, I can’t run,” reminded Rose.

  Penny looked back and again tried to hide her impatience. She had borne three children herself and knew well the stresses her friend was under, yet she couldn’t help but push her. They were heading for the nursery to collect Irene, as well as Rose’s son Gram, who hadn’t been allowed to attend that evening’s feast.

  A tug on her skirt drew her attention to Moira. “Momma I don’t feel very good,” said her adopted daughter. The seven year old’s face was pale; despite the quick pace at which they had been moving.

  “I’m sorry sweetheart,” Penny told her, before glancing again at Rose, “I’ll slow down. We should have plenty of time to reach the nursery and then get to our apartments.” According to what Mort had told her previously, the barrier enchantment should last at least fifteen minutes or so, and quite possibly much longer. That and the fact that they wouldn’t be using the teleportation circles meant that they should have more than enough time. Penny still wished they could run.

  People were everywhere as they went, rushing back and forth along the corridors. Because of their slow pace, it took them almost ten minutes to reach the nursery and gather up their children. Lilly was still there watching them, so Penny ordered her to come along with them as well. Lilly wasn’t a part of the plan for the Illeniel family escape, but Penny was sure she would need the other woman’s help in the days to come.

  “What about Peter?” asked Lilly, as they headed for the stairs that would lead up to the ‘rooms’ that the Illeniel family supposedly occupied. She was referring of course to her brother, Peter Tucker, the chamberlain for Castle Cameron. “He’s expecting me to take the circle to Albamarl with everyone else. He’ll be worried sick.”

  Lady Rose patted the younger woman’s shoulder, “I’m sure we’ll find some way to contact him once the dust settles.”

  “My husband keeps several private message boxes in our home. We can send a message to King James, and he can send a messenger to let your brother know you are with us,” said Penny quickly. “Let’s go. We may not have as much time as we think,” she continued. In the distance she could hear yelling and the sounds of fighting in the castle courtyar
d. Things shouldn’t have progressed that far yet, she told herself silently, but there was no denying the evidence of her ears.

  They made a motley assortment as they traveled the corridor; four women, three young children, one toddler, and an infant. Lilly carried the baby, Irene, allowing Penny to keep her hands free on the slim chance she might need to use her sword. Rose held little Conall’s hand, making sure that he wasn’t separated from them, while the twins and Gram were allowed to follow closely on their own. Elaine stayed in the rear of their group, to make sure that none of the children fell behind.

  Only one corridor separated them from the stairs that would lead upward to their refuge, but as they started down the long hall, Elaine finally spoke, “There’s fighting just beyond that door; a lot of our soldiers and five of the enemy, I believe.” She pointed to a door midway down the corridor, a door that led to the front entry hall.

  “Let’s keep moving,” urged Rose, “The stairs are close.”

  Penny nodded and unsheathed her sword, staying in the lead as they went. Roughly a quarter of the way down the hall, just as they had passed one of the servant’s doors leading to the kitchen, the door ahead burst inward. The sturdy wooden door hadn’t been opened; it had simply disintegrated under the blow of a heavy iron mace. Adrenaline had already slowed her perception of time, and Penny idly noted that the head of the mace was far too large for someone to use easily. They must have brought those for breaking down doors.

  A heavily muscled man followed the large weapon through the shattered door. He was armored in a leather coat with steel plates sewn across the chest and back, though his forearms were bare, covered only with tattoos. The iron hammer of Doron, the Iron God was prominent among the designs, indicating that the man was probably a temple guard.

  Even as Penny noted those things, another man, one of the castle guards, followed the stranger through the door, thrusting at him with a spear. With an almost beautiful grace, the foreigner sidestepped the spear thrust, and reaching out with his right hand, he caught the guard, gripping the top of his breastplate. Twisting, he easily lifted and threw the guardsman into the wall, tossing him as though he weighed no more than a ragdoll. The castle defender slumped to the floor limply, though Penny couldn’t be sure if he were dead or merely unconscious.