Thomas

by Michael G. Manning

  Unfortunately, the grate was far more substantial than they had expected. The bars that composed it were thicker than a big man’s thumb, and while they did show signs of pitting and rusting, they appeared to still be intact.

  “What now?” whispered Islana.

  Their guide shrugged, but Grom stepped forward, “Let me take a look at it.” The dwarf spent several minutes examining the metalwork and eventually waded into the stream searching the metal below the waterline with his hands. Eventually he grunted and gripped one of the bars. “Here. The foundation has washed loose and this one is no longer anchored.”

  “It’s still too thick for us to bend it,” observed Thomas.

  “Nah, lad,” said Grom. “This bar’s badly pitted near the top, a weak point. It’s a matter of leverage. If we pull from the farthest point, which happens to be the bottom, where it’s no longer fixed…” Sitting down in the water the dwarf braced his feet against the bars on either side and wrapped his rough hands around the weakened one.

  Grom’s back shifted beneath his mail as he let out a low groan and began to pull. At first nothing happened, but after a moment the iron began to slowly bend. He managed to move it almost six inches from the base when the top abruptly snapped, and the brittle iron toppled to one side.

  The gap provided was barely wide enough to fit them. Delia made it through without trouble, as did the stranger, but Thomas, Islana, and Grom were forced to remove their breastplates to slip through. The other side of the grate was a darkened archway beneath the wall which protected them from view. They took advantage of it to replace their armor before continuing.

  “Where does it come out?” asked Thomas, wading up to Delia who had already moved forward to peer out.

  “It looks like a separate courtyard,” she answered. “The water cuts through the middle of it. There’s a wall with an archway to the left and a door into something large built against the wall on the right, just beyond where the postern gate enters.”

  “The archway leads to the yard where the main gate is, the building you are looking at is the chapel,” Anthony informed them. “That’s where we will find her.”

  Thomas had managed to get a look for himself now, “It looks like it’s dedicated to Delwyn. Why would they use one of her holy places?”

  “Easier to invoke the chalice there,” explained their guide, “and once it has been defiled it makes the perfect place for the ritual they are planning.”

  “If it weren’t for the two on the wall, we could just walk to the church door,” said Grom. “If we charge out of here we’ll be sitting ducks for their crossbows. By the time we got up the stairs they’d have time to get off two or three shots each.”

  “Give me a minute,” said Delia. Easing slowly out of the water to avoid splashing, she tucked her body in against the base of the wall just inside the courtyard. So long as neither guard happened to look directly at her, it wouldn’t be easy to spot her. Reaching into a pouch at her waist, she drew out a tightly bound package of oilcloth. She revealed a bowstring as she unrolled it and within a minute she had strung her bow.

  “Ye won’t have time to get them both, girl,” cautioned the dwarf.

  “I only need a moment’s distraction,” said Delia.

  Islana clapped Grom on the shoulder, “Make sure your helm is strapped tightly. You and I can run out. We’ll take different directions. It will take them a while to react, and if we keep running, they’ll have a difficult time making an accurate shot. By the time they get themselves together, Delia will have had all the time she needs.”

  “You’re assumin’ they aren’t good shots,” worried Grom.

  “It isn’t that easy to get a good shot on someone in armor, especially if they’re moving,” said Delia. “Even if they hit you it’s likely to be a glancing shot.”

  Grom narrowed his eyes, “The same goes for you, lass.”

  She smiled confidently, “My targets will be standing still.”

  “Hang on a second,” said Thomas. “We can stack the odds in our favor.” Chanting for a moment, he put his hand on each of them to mark them with Delwyn’s blessing, pausing only when he got to the last member of their band, Anthony.

  The Prince of Hell lifted one brow wryly, “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  With their preparations finished, Islana and Grom counted silently, mouthing the numbers at one another, when they reached ‘ten’, they clambered out of the stream in a rush and ran across the courtyard in separate directions. Their exit was noisy, and the water sloshing out of their boots made them slower than they expected.

  As they ran Delia walked slowly and deliberately out from the wall, confident her companions frantic movements would hold her target’s attention. Ten paces out she lifted her bow and drew it back until the fletching on her arrow was almost touching her ear.

  The orcs had been startled by the sudden emergence of enemies beneath them, but since their crossbows were already loaded and cocked it didn’t take them long to react. They had shouldered their weapons by the time Delia’s first arrow flew.

  Her aim was true, and the feathered shaft sprouted from the orc’s right armpit before he could fire, with a grunt he fell back, dropping his weapon. A sharp crack announced the second sentry’s shot, and a harsh dwarven yell accompanied by colorful swearing revealed that he had found his mark.

  Delia nocked her second arrow and fired hastily, missing. The noise of her shaft breaking against the stone wall beside the orc alerted him to her presence, and he began hastily loading a fresh quarrel.

  Time seemed to slow as she pulled yet another arrow from her quiver. Adrenaline was spoiling her usual dexterity, and only long practice kept the shaft between her fingers as she nocked it. From the corner of her eye Delia could see Islana charging back across the yard, heading for the stairs that led up to the top of the wall, but there was no way she could make it in time.

  Taking a deep breath, she drew again, holding her bow at full extension for long seconds as she lined up her shot. The orc wasn’t watching her, he was pulling on his crossbow, cocking it with brute strength. Delia exhaled slowly and relaxed her fingers. She knew she had hit her mark before the arrow left the string.

  The shaft sprouted in the orc’s right thigh, causing him to lose his hold on the crossbow and fall back against the stone merlon behind him. Islana reached him seconds later and finished him with a hard thrust of her sword.

  Thomas was already by Grom’s side, “Take it easy. I can fix this.”

  “Fuckin’ orcs!” swore the dwarf, grimacing as he stared at the quarrel that had passed completely through his left calf. “Most hasty shots miss or glance off armor, she says—my ass!”

  “I think she was right,” said Thomas. “He just got lucky.”

  But Grom was having none of it, as Delia walked over he growled at her, “Why didn’t you shoot that second one somewhere better? Like the throat or eye or somethin’!”

  The ranger had recovered her calm by then, though she held her bow with both hands to hide the trembling of her fingers. “Hard to hit someone’s throat when they’re bent over a crossbow. His thigh was unarmored and it did the trick.”

  “That bastard deserved one in the dick for what he did to me!” spat Grom angrily.

  Thomas broke the arrow in half and before Grom realized what he was doing he pulled the arrow through his friend’s calf. Uttering a few quiet words, he laid one hand over the freely bleeding wound and let the goddess’ power flow over it. His ability to channel Delwyn’s power had grown greatly over the past year; within seconds the blood had stopped flowing and the skin had closed, leaving only a puckered red scar. “You should be able to walk on it,” he told Grom.

  Grom tested it carefully, surprised to find no pain when he stood. “Give the Lady my thanks, Thomas,” he said at last, before adding, “Ahh me damn sock is full of blood. I’ll be squelching in my boots.”

  Delia snickered at that but didn’t bother mentioning that they were all al
ready soaked from the waist down.

  “Time is short,” said their black clad guide. “The door to the sanctuary is over there.”

  The heavy oak doors that led into the castle chapel were barred from the inside.

  “We’ll have to find another way in,” said Thomas.

  “We don’t have enough time,” warned Anthony.

  A heavy thunk announced Grom’s solution. Jerking his axe free, he sent another heavy blow shuddering into the timbers. “That’s for my leg!” he grumbled as he hacked at the wood.

  Chapter 19

  A Dark Bargain

  Father Whitmire focused intently on his chant as the demon bore down on him. In the back of his mind an idle thought ran by, I should have brought a shield. Ignoring that thought, he finished his abjuration just before the demon’s claw reached him, “In the name of Delwyn, I banish you back from whence you came!”

  It froze, struggling against the cleric’s authority and then began to fade.

  Releasing a sigh of relief, the Abbot turned back to assist his friend.

  Sir Brevis had lifted one hand to his eyes, calling on the goddess to lift the curse that had blinded him. When he removed it, he could see once more, but not soon enough to avoid the robed man’s next spell. Green energy flickered around him, sapping his vitality.

  The paladin staggered for a moment, but then he reached down and recovered his sword. Straightening up he marched toward the evil cleric, “I’ve had just about enough of you.” Closing the distance he reached his foe before the other man could finish his next spell. Seconds later it was over.

  Whitmire got there a moment later, “Are you alright?”

  Brevis was panting, “I’ve felt better.”

  “Let me look at you,” said the elder priest. “I think he siphoned away some of your lifeforce. If so, I’ll need to repair the damage.”

  “It’s not that bad,” protested the paladin.

  “It could do you permanent harm if I don’t reverse the effect quickly,” cautioned the Abbot.

  “After we help the men clear the walls,” said Brevis.

  ***

  “We have definitely lost the element of surprise here,” noted Delia as the dwarf’s axe bit one more into the heavy wood. She held her bow up, an arrow nocked and ready.

  Grom’s efforts had removed a portion of the outer door and now the bar behind it was almost ready to give way. Islana stood close by, her sword ready.

  Thomas was steadily chanting. After his prayer was finished he touched Grom’s shoulder between swings and then moved on to touch the others, each in turn. Again, Anthony elected to forgo Delwyn’s blessing.

  “That should help protect both mind and body against the influence of evil,” he told them. This next one will give your weapons the ability to pierce the defenses of those warded by dark magic. He started a new prayer, and when he was done he touched the arrow held ready on Delia’s bow. He started to offer it to Islana but she shook her head.

  The paladin was kneeling, her sword help up before her. The blade had already begun to glow with Delwyn’s power.

  Moving on, Thomas headed toward Grom, but it was then that the door gave way.

  The doors swung in as the heavy bar fell away, exposing a yawning darkness. There were no lights within and an ominous feeling emanated from the chapel.

  “I can’t see a thing,” complained Delia.

  “There’s a spell of darkness over the interior,” said Thomas. Lifting his hand to the sky he began to summon light. It would take more than a common spell to undo the magic inside, so he called upon the goddess to provide pure sunlight.

  But Grom was already growling, “I can see it already.” The dwarf was gripping the haft of his axe so hard that his knuckles had gone white.

  Thomas finished his invocation, and a globe of pure golden light shot forward to burst within the interior of the chapel. It expanded rapidly, burning away the shadows and revealing a long aisle with pews on either side. The altar at the far end was smeared with something black, and grotesque symbols had been painted on the walls.

  A hulking beast was in front of the altar. It stood over thirteen feet in height and great leathery wings were folded against its back. A massive iron sword was in its right hand and a heavy flail in its left, both were burning with angry red flames. The demons’ crude lips drew back to reveal brown jagged fangs as it spoke, “Welcome to despair mortals.”

  Thomas’ eyes went wide as his mouth went dry, and his heart knew fear. “It’s a balor demon,” he choked out. It’s over. There’s no way to defeat something like that.

  Balor demons were the most powerful order of demons, their might only surpassed by that of their master, the Beast, Gravon. Only the strongest of divine entities, or the greatest of heroes, had a chance to oppose one.

  What felt like an eternity passed as they stared at the dark guardian, and their fear only grew stronger as the moment stretched out. “Why isn’t he moving?” whispered Delia at last.

  “He is bound to the chapel, to prevent our passing,” said Anthony matter-of-factly.

  His words snapped Thomas’ mind back into motion and he remembered who their guide was. Turning his head, he looked at the Prince of Hell, “Can you…?”

  The diabolic god of evil smiled sadly, “No. My role in this matter is strictly circumscribed by certain rules. If I act on my own there will be greater consequences. Now, if I were to receive payment from a mortal, something great enough to match the task, I could provide my aid…”

  “What sort of payment?” asked Thomas.

  Anteriolus smiled, showing teeth that were entirely too sharp, “To remove something as great as a Balor demon? Even the soul of a devout servant of Delwyn’s might not be enough, but yours might suffice.”

  Islana’s jaw clenched, “Shut your mouth, defiler! Thomas would never agree to that.” She never took her eyes off the balor, however, and cold sweat was dripping down her forehead and cheeks.

  “I can see something behind him,” announced Grom. “Like a black curtain or something.”

  “The entrance to the rear chamber. They are holding her there as they prepare the ritual,” said Anteriolus.

  “We don’t have to defeat him, Thomas,” said Islana. “We just need to occupy him long enough for you to get past and through that entrance.”

  “He’ll slaughter you,” protested Thomas. “I won’t agree to that.”

  Islana straightened and turned to him, “I’m not giving you a choice.” Her face was pale with fear, but then she reached out and grabbed him by the front of his mail shirt. Pulling him in she kissed him, hard. “That was for me…,” she told him, “… but we are sworn to a greater purpose. This is for Our Lady, for Delwyn.” Lifting her sword, she put her face toward the demon in the darkness. The blade began to glow even brighter as she marched purposefully into the defiled church.

  As she moved into the chapel Islana began uttering the sacred oath of her order, “By the light of Delwyn, I bind your fate to mine, demon. I will smite you, and my sword will not rest until you are done, or I am dead trying!” A silver sunburst appeared on the monster’s chest, and her armor and shield began glowing as if to match her sword. It was the first time she had ever called on Delwyn’s wrath, and she knew it would probably also be the last, but she would not shirk her duty as a sacred defender of the goddess.

  The balor smiled, “I will savor your heart’s blood, little paladin, and wash it down with that of your goddess when this is done!”

  A flash passed Islana as Delia’s arrow flew toward the demon. She hit her mark, but despite Thomas’ blessing the steel head merely bounced off the skin of the demon’s neck. Grom roared his defiance and strode forward to join Islana in facing their foe.

  The decision was already made. Thomas drew his sword and ran forward. Putting his hand on Islana’s shoulder he cast the most powerful spell he had been granted that might aid her. It was one he had thought to use on himself if he were forced to fight
alone, but given the circumstances it seemed better to put it on her.

  Light pulsed from his hand and Islana’s body grew, adding nearly a foot to her height and greatly increasing her strength. Her steps grew more confident, and she smiled briefly, “Thank you, Thomas.”

  By combining their powers and strengths Islana had become a weapon of the goddess and an opponent to be feared by any evildoer, but Thomas knew it was unlikely to be enough. The demon in front of them was on a completely different level. But we have to try, he thought. Sarah is counting on us.

  Thomas was already beginning a new chant to bolster his companions as Grom and Islana came at the demon from either side. The creature merely laughed, ignoring them. The dwarf’s axe bounced back without effect, but Islana’s blade left a bleeding slash across his ribs.

  The balor’s eyes widened slightly, “That was a good cut, lady knight! Perhaps this will not be as boring as I thought. Let me reward you for your effort. My name is Dastrix.” He lifted his left arm, swinging the burning flail in a wide arc, forcing them both to leap back and then he fixed his eyes on Delia who still stood just outside the doors of the chapel. “Since the ranger struck first I will grant her the first death.”

  Several more unintelligible phrases passed through his lips, and then Delia screamed. Looking back Thomas saw her skin ripple and twist as though it was trying to press itself into her body. Delia’s bones stood out in stark relief and blood ran from her eyes and ears as she collapsed.

  Islana and Grom attacked again, but the demon ignored them, lips moving over blackened teeth as he continued uttering phrases of unspeakable evil and pain. Delia’s scream faded into a bubbling wheeze as he continued his magical assault.

  “Break his concentration!” yelled Thomas as he went back to help his fallen friend.

  Grom’s axe struck the demon’s unprotected neck but did little to distract him, but Islana had better luck. Lunging forward she thrust the point of her sword at Dastrix’s bare stomach. It pierced the skin and sank inward several inches, smoke rising from the wound and black blood boiling out around the glowing metal. But the fiend never stopped chanting.