The Red Citadel and the Sorcerer's Power

by Craig Halloran

  “Power,” Chen said. His face was drawn tight, and his eyes narrowed into slits.

  “Chen, you know my power from before. Now imagine it tenfold, if not more,” Finster warned. “I don’t think you want to play this game with me.”

  He turned his attention to Buckner. “Do you not know what I can do with metal and wood? You haven’t brought yourself an army. Instead, you’ve brought me one.” Finster winked. Behind Buckner, two soldiers in chainmail were ripped out of their saddles. They soared high above the ground, startling the others, then fell as if dropped into the deep river. “It’s not easy to swim in chainmail. I’ll drown them. I’ll drown you all.”

  Buckner’s jaws clenched. “The more you murder, the more will come, Finster. I know Rolem. There will be no end to this.”

  “Rolem will lose his finest forces.”

  “And tenfold more will come, magus.” Buckner leaned forward. “This will not end. These men will fight to their deaths. You aren’t so powerful that you can stop them all. No one is.”

  Finster laughed. “My kind has leveled entire cities! Decimated populations! And you think your hundreds of men are a match for me? You need to reassess.” He held out his hand, fingers splayed wide. Every soldier in a saddle was propelled into the air as if hit with a giant mallet. The only people still in place were Buckner and Chen.

  “Do something, wizard,” Buckner said to Chen. “This is what you were brought for!”

  “I am.” Chen’s eyes came to life with a glowing fire. His hands appeared from inside his sleeves, covered in a mystic violet fire. “Try your powers now, Finster!”

  Finster summoned the magic, and nothing happened. His powers stretched out into empty air. He was in a field of negative energy created by Chen. “Clever!” [ICS4]

  “Not clever. I was ready.” Chen tipped his chin to Buckner. “He is harmless for the moment, but hurry.”

  Buckner launched his horse forward. He leaned over the saddle and punched Finster hard in the face. There was a loud smack of gauntlet metal on flesh. Finster’s knees buckled. He started to fall. Buckner seized him by the collar and pulled him onto the saddle of his horse.

  Blood dripped down Finster’s eye. I think I’m bleeding again. I never used to bleed. What happened to me? The air around him was empty of power. He was as helpless as a baby.

  “The Silver Snake is captured,” Chen said. “Now, let’s find the other.”

  Look at that. Tight-Face is grinning. I’ll not be bested by the likes of him. Bloody satrap, sycophant, fledgling, weakling! Finster made a pitiful slash through the air, aiming to get ahold of Chen’s hands in a vain attempt to wrestle the power from him.

  Chen laughed. “It’s not my hands. It’s the Amulet of Isander.” In front of Finster’s eyes, Chen dangled a prism of cut stones held together in a medallion of pewter. “A creation of the Violet Tower you spoke so ill of. Buckner, his eyes are open. Now, close them.”

  Finster felt the pommel of Buckner’s sword rise over his head. He winced before the blow was struck. Fine, knock me out, but please don’t let it hurt.

  Moth erupted out of the water along the riverbank. He slashed Buckner’s horse’s legs out from under it. The beast fell over on its side.

  Finster rolled across the ground and into the river. He ducked under the water and swam as far as he could, increasing the distance between him and Chen. He held his breath until his lungs burned. Finally, the power of the Founder’s Stone and the scarab flowed back into him. He resurfaced, gasping for air.

  On the riverbank, a vicious fight unfolded. Sword in hand, Moth attacked the soldiers like a ravenous wolf gone mad. He smashed one knight’s sword into his face. Another blade snapped against Moth’s raw power. He yanked a man from the stirrup, and wild-faced, he head-butted a horse. The soldiers scurried out of the path of silent doom whenever Moth came near.

  “Mendes!” Buckner shouted. He’d climbed onto someone else’s horse. Sword high, he charged at Moth. “For Mendes, brothers!” The steed galloped, intending to trample Moth beneath its thundering hooves.

  Moth turned his shoulders into the horse’s path. With a face full of rage, he caught the horse head on. Buckner, Moth, and the horse all went down in a crashing of hooves and limbs.

  Finster heard Chen screaming. The oriental wizard stood on the bank, waving his hands and a Mendes flag at the passing ships. “Capture him! He’s a fugitive of Mendes!”

  The last ship angled into Finster’s path. One of the sailors reached out with a pole that had a hooked metal end made for capturing lost cargo. He snagged Finster’s robes. With help from another seaman, they hauled him into the boat.

  Catching his breath, Finster tried to speak. Swimming and treading water were exhausting. His robes felt like they weighed a ton. “Thank you. Thank you, kind sailors.”

  The sailors locked his arms and stood him up. One of them punched him in the belly.

  “Ooof!” Finster sagged.

  “Those are knights of Mendes over there,” a commanding man with a full brown beard said to the sailors. He was dressed in all black and wore a sabre on his hip. “I don’t know who this scoundrel is, but he must be trouble. I don’t want any bad omens. Bind him up, lower a rowboat, and get his skinny arse off my ship. Let those knights deal with it.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Finster had reached his boiling point. For over a decade, he was a revered magus that no mortal with any knowledge of him would cross. Now, with ten times the power—perhaps more—he was being rough handed by little more than goons.

  One of the sailors drew back to sock him again. The man had silver rings on his finger. Finster turned the action around, and the man punched himself in the face, knocking him out cold. The bewildered crew shuffled back. The ship’s captain stared at Finster with his mouth wide open.

  “Captain,” Finster said, looking at him with eyes that could burn a hole in the man’s face. “I’m taking your ship. Step aside or die.”

  The threat of taking the ship snapped the captain out of his daze. “Don’t be foolish. I’ve cut men’s throats for less than that.”

  “I’ll start with your anchor.”

  The ship’s anchor and chain moved to hang over the men like a cloud. Every eyeball on deck watched the object as the anchor whipped downward like a club. Smack! Bone caved upon contact with the metal. It sent the captain and a handful of his seamen headlong into the waters.

  Finster seethed, and his chest heaved. The scarab sent an angry force through him. The entire brigantine lurched up and down in the water. Hot with rage, Finster said, “Get off of my ship!”

  Some of the sailors dove into the river. Others cowered. A force of soldiers in chain-mail armor rushed up the steps from the hold.

  “Fools!” Finster yelled in a gust of hot breath. The entirety of the ship rose up out of the water. It sailed higher into the air. “Get off of my ship!” He turned his wrist.

  The entire ship tilted to the starboard side. Men clung to whatever they could get ahold of. It was that or sink like a stone in the river that raced beneath them forty feet below. Finster stood as if suspended in the air, one hand hanging fast to the ropes of the mast. He felt light as a feather and stronger than a sea storm. He shook his hand. The ship shook with it. The men lost their grip, and screaming for their lives, they plunged into the cold waters.

  Enraptured by his surging abilities, Finster righted the ship in midair and moved it toward the riverbank.

  Chen’s face looked like it was about to break into a hundred pieces. He backed up the bank, lost his footing, fell, and bounced back up. “Finster, let’s talk!”

  Finster was too far away from the Amulet of Isander for it to have any effect on him. “I warned you, fool from the inferior tower.”

  The Amulet of Isander tore from Chen’s neck and sailed into Finster’s waiting hand. He tucked it in his pocket. “I’m a fair man. I shall exchange you one amulet for another. Or rather, one amulet for one anchor.”

&nbs
p; The anchor flew across the waters and crushed Chen beneath it with the sickening sound of metal conquering man. Chen’s body was buried in the soft riverbank. Only his arms and legs were showing.

  By this time, Finster had the full attention of the knights from Mendes. Some were firing crossbows at him from bended knee or from horseback. The missiles were turned aside, streaking far right and left. Finster let out a gusty laugh and waved his hand.

  Seemingly from out of nowhere, the second of the three brigantine ships had come out of the waters like it was shot from a catapult. It crashed like a wave of wood into the soldiers. The planks popped and cracked like the sound of thunder. The main mast snapped over wriggling bodies. Men were busted up, broken, bleeding, and screaming for help in the wreckage.

  Drunk with power, Finster laughed. “You brutes! You fools! If you wanted to avoid death, you should have kept plowing the fields! This is war! It’s miserable, especially when you are on the losing end of things! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

  ***

  Moth had one man by the neck. He ran a second man through the chest with his sword. One man, with hair the color of sunshine, slipped away. His horse didn’t make it.

  Soldiers were running full speed away from Moth. Many sought refuge by swimming across the river. He killed a few more, showing no mercy. Wet blood dripped from his sword. When the haze cleared, there was no one left but him and the boat in the sky. Finster stood on the deck with his eyes glazed over. Moth noticed one boat was shattered against the riverbank. Farther up the river, the lead boat of the three had capsized.

  Right before his very eyes, Finster made a set of steps out of wood from the broken ship. The steps floated on air, but appeared solid as a rock. Finster walked down the steps one by one and then approached Moth. His power-glazed eyes cleared as he surveyed all of the carnage. The dead were piled up in heaps everywhere. He looked at Moth. “I think the two of us are officially at war with the entire kingdom of Mendes.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Finster and Moth commandeered a rowboat salvaged from a brigantine. The boat was sizable, built for a dozen men. The oars, with life of their own, dipped into the waters in perfect harmony, pushing them up the river. Finster sat at the stern of the boat, letting the steady breeze kiss his face. Moth rode at the bow, gazing out over the waters. The craft moved up the river for two days straight without stopping.

  Yawning, Finster stretched his arms above his head. “Normally, I wouldn’t row the boat myself. I could just fly it, but I don’t want to draw any attention.” He waved his fingers at some men on the bank at a hard bend in the river.

  The fishermen scratched their heads. The children ran waist-deep into the waters, eager for a closer look at the craft that was rowing itself.

  “I find it strange that a barbarian such as yourself is so comfortable with my company. Surely you have some ambitions of your own, aye, Moth?”

  The barbarian didn’t reply. Instead, he hung both legs over the bow, dipping his toes in the water. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

  Finster found himself wrestling with the notion that his fate was entwined with that of the disproportionate man. The brute had saved him, and he’d saved the brute, so he thought. Then there were the Rings of Power. Finster had lifted an entire ship out of the river. Certainly, he had enough power. What more could he want? He kept talking, assuming Moth understood what he said. It was easier that way.

  “They’ll keep after us until we are dead. I think we can find refuge in Rayland for a time. Then perhaps we can move to the next kingdom. Perhaps it would be best if we wooed some queens and wed them? We could be kings, or at least princes. And what queen wouldn’t want men of our renown with such endurance? This new stamina we have would be very fitting for satisfying a harem.”

  He talked about many things. Moth didn’t show the slightest sign of interest. Late in the day, they passed the final bend in the river, where the trees on the riverbank reached high into the sky. Finster stood. “There it is. Rayland. It’s quite a view from here. It’s been a time since I’ve seen it.”

  Piers and docks ran along the riverbank for miles. Boats and ships of all sizes were docked at the marina. Beyond the wharfs and levees, the city began. Buildings and roads were built into the countryside’s gentle slopes. Thousands of people moved along the storefronts and docks. There were hundreds of thousands more in the kingdom. Miles away, at the highest point on the hill, was the kingdom of Rayland’s castle. It was rumored to be built at a high point in the land superior to the elevation of Mendes.

  Finster rowed the boat to the docks where the crowd was thinnest. A handful of people cast wary eyes their way. Moth tossed a rope up to a wide-eyed black boy.

  The boy tied it off on the dock and asked, “Where did you get a ship that rows itself, huh? Do you have ghost rowers?”

  “No,” Finster replied as he crawled up onto the dock, “but I do have a boat for sale. A quality deal. Will you find me a man that is interested?”

  The boy rubbed his chin. “How much are you asking for this ghost ship, huh?”

  “I’ll tell that to the person who is buying it, child. Now, fetch me a river pirate or a merchant with feathers in his cap. Quickly now, or I’ll sic the ghosts on you.”

  The boy ran off.

  Moth pulled the oars inside the boat and scanned the countless buildings that filled the hillside. Made from stone, brick, and mortar, the city was divided into different levels, each one higher than the other.

  “Rayland has plenty of places to hide, even for a man as big as you. We’ll get you a hat, one of those nice round ones made from bamboo. I’ve seen them sizeable enough for your head. Just stay close.” Stationed along the docks were soldiers in leather armor, carrying spears. They were preoccupied with the bigger ships and thicker crowds. “If we cross any soldiers, let me do the talking. I’ve a feeling if you spoke, you might stir them. No offense.”

  A robust black man sauntered down the dock with the boy hopping up and down at his side. Bullnecked and bald, his yellow eyes scoured Finster and Moth. He eased closer to Finster but kept his eyes on Moth. “I am Carl. I understand you have a ghost ship for sale?” He eyeballed the craft. “Fifteen gold.”

  “Don’t insult me, man. It’s worth seventy-five, but I’ll take forty-five and nothing less.”

  Carl rubbed his chin. “It is stolen from Mendes, I know. I’m very familiar with their craftsmanship.”

  “I earned it fairly, captain. How else could I have acquired a ship from Mendes? But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take my business elsewhere. I wouldn’t want you to make a deal that might haunt you at night.”

  “I’ll give you forty.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Carl emptied his purse and counted out the gold talents. He handed them to Finster. “You should take your slave to the competitions. You can triple this money there.” He nodded. “Good day.”

  “Moth, I think he wants me to sell you. That wasn’t very kind, was it?”

  Moth held out his hand.

  Taken aback, Finster asked, “What?”

  Moth eyed his fist full of coins.

  “You want money? What are you going to do—swallow it, or spend it?”

  CHAPTER 40

  King Rolem the Grand stood on the battlement of his castle that overlooked the bay of the Gallatan Sea. His kingly robes rustled in the sea winds, and the sun warmed his face as he watched the boats, fishermen’s ships, brigantines, and galleons working their way in and out of the bay. He enjoyed watching the ships, and even sailing, for that matter, but not today.

  “How many men, Buckner?” he asked. Slowly, he spun on his heel and rested his backside against the battlement wall.

  Buckner was down on one knee, his face downcast. He was covered in grit, blood, and sweat. “One hundred and thirty-eight soldiers were lost, your majesty.”

  “Including Chen?”

  “No, that would make one hundred and thirty-nine. I wasn’t cou
nting him. He’s not one of my soldiers.”

  Rolem sighed. His handsome face seemed to sag. Frustration was in his tone and eyes. “I gave you five hundred men to bring back two. You had three hundred and sixty-two soldiers left at your disposal, excluding Chen, of course.” He crossed his arms. His fingers drummed on his elbows. “I don’t understand why you didn’t use all of the men at your disposal, Buckner. It’s a complete waste of my resources. It would have been better if you hadn’t come back at all.”

  Pleading, Buckner explained. “Your majesty, the magus, Finster, threw an entire ship on top of us. He dropped an anchor on Chen.” His body trembled. He’d been on one knee for over an hour. This was his third time explaining it. “Only a hurricane could have wrought more damage so quickly.”

  Rolem’s brows knitted together. He kicked Buckner in the jaw, and the man collapsed. “Get back up on your knees, Buckner!” His hands clenched together. He seethed. “It’s hard enough to swallow the loss of my soldiers for two men, but the reminder that I lost three ships loaded with my cargo adds even more sting to the blow. What are the odds?”

  Buckner gathered himself and made it to one knee. Both lips were split. He pulled his shoulders back and kept his chin level.

  “I said, what are the odds, Buckner?”

  “I don’t know, sire.”

  “Knights fleeing from battle,” Rolem scoffed. “Knights of Mendes, at that, fleeing from two people. All of the kingdoms in the realm will be laughing.” He cupped his ear. “I can hear the town criers now. ‘Rolem’s knights flee like rabbits!’ ‘Mendes’s finest dogs run with their tails between their legs!’ It’s preposterous that one man scared you so. You, Buckner, my bravest knight! Have I not told you that no man’s power is unlimited?”

  “I did what I believed to be best at the time, sire. I would have fought to the death, but you needed a fair assessment of your enemy.”

  “I would have gathered that myself when I came upon five hundred corpses and three sunken ships. It would not have required my cowardly knights reporting back.” Rolem rested his hand on Buckner’s head. “Now, tell me about this barbarian.”