The Red Citadel and the Sorcerer's Power

by Craig Halloran

  I must do something!

  Forgetting about the scarab, he summoned his own powers, which still lingered inside the blood of his weakening frame. Catching sight of the dagger that had chased down and killed the bog men, he summoned his powers over the inanimate.

  Obey me, steel! I command it!

  He wrestled against the force of the Founder’s Stone and wrapped his will around it. The mystic presence resisted at first before finding familiarity with an old friend. The dagger pulled free of a bog man’s belly.

  Finster set his narrowed eyes on Inslay. “Now I have you!” As one, he and the stone sent the dagger hurtling into the snail lord’s chest.

  Inslay’s mouth gaped.

  Dizon and Rinny fell hard to the ground.

  With one hand, Inslay pulled the dagger from his body. “It will take more than steel to hurt me. I am a god! I am not simple flesh! I am… eh?” The snail lord stretched farther out of his shell and peered around his broad side. “What are you doing? Get away from me, insect!”

  Finster, on wobbly legs, traipsed in the same direction. Moth hacked and stabbed into the shell of the snail lord with a sword consumed by flame. He splintered chunks of the shell like a lumberjack taking an axe to wood. Enclosed in a veil of dark-gray smoke, the barbarian worked with relentless fury, taking the monstrous snail body down hunks at a time.

  The music coming from the shell stopped.

  Slowly, with growing agony on his face, Inslay tried to turn. “Stop it, fool! Invader, get away from my nest!”

  Moth waded into a doorway-sized hole he’d made in the shell. He cut away slimy globs of Inslay’s flesh.

  “Noooooooo!” Inslay screamed. He extended his hands, stretching the tentacles on his head at the same time. The probing tentacles opened at the tips like tiny mouths. They spit out black needles that buried themselves in Moth’s arms and shoulders.

  The savage’s Herculean efforts slowed. He staggered one step back before leaning forward and swinging again.

  Inslay’s tentacles shot out more darts.

  With the eerie music gone, Finster’s concentration cleared. Full control of the scarab and stone returned to his sharp mind. Mentally, he picked up two stone blocks from the ground. “Snail lord, I would have a word with you!”

  Inslay curled his body toward Finster. Looming over the sorcerer with his chest heavy, the snail lord said, “What, flea?”

  “Goodbye.” Finster used the blocks like a pair of cymbals to crush Inslay’s skull. He did it over and over, crushing the bone and flesh, turning it all to soppy goo.

  Inslay’s misshapen head became unrecognizable. His dying body retreated halfway into the shell.

  Moth took more heavy whacks at the body with sluggish limbs. The flame on the sword had extinguished. The savage, with long black needles turning his arms black and purple, chopped on until he emerged through the other side. There, he made his way to Dizon and Rinny where they sat on the ground, shaking but safe. The gore-coated Moth jumped in front of them, brandishing the sword and shielding them from any further attacks.

  There was no sign of a single living bog man. All the snails had curled up into their shells.

  Finster looked at Inslay’s massive shell, which Moth had turned into a tunnel. “You could have just walked around it, mute.” He swayed. “Dizon, if you have it in you, could you take a look at my back? I’m not certain, but I think it’s missing.”

  The disheveled woman hustled over, stood behind him, lifted up his robes, and gasped.

  “That bad, is it?” Finster asked.

  “It’s mortal. I don’t see how you can stand.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and guided him to a place in the grove where he could sit. “I’m so sorry, Finster. So sorry.” She sobbed. “I don’t know what to do about this.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I feel quite alive, on account of the great deal of pain.” He took a sharp breath. “It’s not that much worse than it’s always been.”

  “You don’t deserve to suffer so much,” she replied.

  “No, I’m pretty sure that I do. I’m guilty of many treacherous things.” He gave Moth a glance. The bare-chested savage squatted. With the help of Rinny, they were pulling needles from his arms, shoulders, and chest. The purple-black marks that had spread all over his body were clearing. “Never in my life would I have thought that I would envy a savage.”

  CHAPTER 77

  Settling into Portgul’s Lowport tavern, Alexandria and Holger took a seat at a small table near the knights and ordered dinner. Holger cast an occasional glance her way. She’d used the magic within her cloak to subtly alter her appearance. Lowering the buttons on her shirt, she noticeably increased her bust size. Her hair, which she kept straight and short, had more fullness and curls to it. Adding some gloss to her lips made her smile all the more alluring. She knew what men liked and what they wanted. It hadn’t taken long for the knights to confidently strike up a conversation. Two of them now sat at their table.

  A black-haired athlete with hawkish good looks introduced himself as Osgald. He had a neatly trimmed beard and wore a star embroidered on his River Knight tunic that identified him as the River Knight commander. He was older and spoke with curiosity but had a wanton eye. The other knight, stout, with half-inch short hair, was rugged and well-built and called himself Chet. He smiled and nodded at everything Osgald said.

  Holger sat across from Alexandria, engaged but quietly eating his steak and potatoes.

  With his arm stretched out, Osgald said, “Do you remember that, Chet?”

  Chet nodded.

  “I’d never seen such butchery before,” Osgald said as he continued the story. “I am talking about the finest knights of Mendes piled up in heaps.” He looked up at the cast-iron chandeliers. “Uh, the word I want to use escapes me. I was never one to be poetic, but they looked like plows had run over them.” He looked at Alexandria with a long frown. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about such dreadful things in the presence of a beautiful lady.” He took her hand, still sheathed in her soft leather glove. “Apologies.”

  Alexandria leaned closer to Osgald. “I don’t mind. I’ve told you, I’ve seen my share of bloodshed. After all, I am a sword for hire.”

  Osgald reached over and grabbed her upper arm. Looking deep into her eyes, he said, “You are firm as iron. I believe you can fight. I see the steel behind your eyes.” He glanced down her shirt. “But it’s not your eyes that captivate me. I find you so ample and fascinating.”

  “I am both,” she said. The knights had been drinking nonstop since they had arrived. Many of them were slurring their speech, and a few had taken barmaids to their rooms. Osgald’s eyes were half-glazed from strong drink and lust, but he still seemed to have his wits about him. Aside from him, she noticed that not all of the knights were drinking. Still, she was curious why the knights seemed to be so loose about their business. It didn’t seem right for men known to maintain a very high standard. “I hope you don’t think me gruesome for asking, but tell me more about this battle at the Free River.”

  Osgald leaned back. His chair groaned under the weight of his platemail armor. “I’d be happy to, but only if you give me a little kiss.” He turned a cheek. “I just have to feel the touch of those soft lips.”

  “I’m not some tavern wench that is easily wooed by the length of your sword,” she replied adamantly. “I’m a fighter.”

  Osgald lifted his hands in surrender. “Apologies. Apologies. I will tell you. By the time we arrived, the crows were feasting. The rank smell would have made a Wargoth vomit. Isn’t that right, Chet?”

  The knight sitting across from him with a permanent grin on his face nodded.

  “What struck me was the bloody galleon smashed along the bank of the river. It looked as if a sea titan had scooped it up and dashed it against the rocks.” Osgald shook his head. “I’m telling you, it sent a shiver through me, and nothing shakes a River Knight.”

  “So, is that what
brings you here?” she asked. “You are going to kill this savage and sorcerer?”

  “Why, that is the king’s business.” Osgald lifted his tankard to his lips, drank, set it down, and smiled. “And a knight never tells.”

  Alexandria touched his hand. “Oh really. Well, there is something that I would like to tell you. My men and I are pursuing this savage and sorcerer, so it is ideal that you won’t be in our way.”

  Osgald pulled his hand away. His tone lost its friendly edge. “Lady, let me warn you, it is best that you do not interfere with the king’s business. I’ve crossed my share of sellswords and brigands, and no matter how formidable your skills may be, the men you would pursue can only be taken by otherworldly means.” He looked over his shoulder at the wizards sitting at the table. They were quietly sipping their wine and talking among themselves. “The only thing you will find is death if you cross the savage and sorcerer’s path.”

  Holger leaned on the back two legs of his chair.

  Chet rested his elbows on the table, still grinning.

  “You don’t sound afraid to face them,” Alexandria said. “Why should I be?”

  “Face them? Hah,” the knight commander said. “I have no intention of facing them at all. You see, you didn’t let me finish my tale. I have seen this pair at work firsthand. They made the veins in my arms writhe like snakes.” He took a long drink. “Believe me when I say that you don’t want any part of them. Isn’t that right, Chet?”

  Using a cloth napkin, Chet wiped his face and nodded.

  “Chet was present when the blue-toe, Moth, overtook the obstacles at the Gauntlet. It granted them the King of Rayland’s chalice.” Oswald gave her a knowing look. “And I personally saw the magus, Finster, sail away in a chair girded in metal. You should abandon your ambitions, Alex. That is all that I will say about the king’s business.” He wagged his finger at her. “And I’m beginning to suspect that you are probing.”

  “Me?” she asked, acting coy and a little offended. She quickly realized that Osgald, and possibly some of the other knights, had been guarding the king’s dining hall the day she killed King Alrick. The River Knights in the room wore full helmets that covered their faces completely. They didn’t speak either. Osgald must have witnessed the entire slaughter at the feast. My, what interesting company I keep. I need to work this to my advantage. “Osgald, perhaps I can be of greater service to you. I love the hunt. Perhaps, if I offered my services for free, we could cover more ground together. I’ve never been in the company of a knight before, and I would seek the king’s favor.”

  Osgald drummed his fingers on the table. “What are you offering?”

  “There is much ground to cover. My men and I are excellent trackers and information gatherers. With leagues to cover, we could aid you.” She placed her hand over his, stopping his fingers from drumming. She pulled her shoulder back and leaned closer to him. “It would be a partnership, so to speak.”

  With hungry eyes, he swallowed and said, “Let’s discuss the details in my quarters.”

  CHAPTER 78

  Back at the Black Tower, Dizon cleaned Finster’s back wound with a clean cloth she had boiled over the campfire using lake water. Stripped down to his pantaloons, he sat on a stone with his hands on his knees. Two days had passed since they had killed Inslay. Finster, though in pain, had full use of his powers once again. He had flown them all back using the stones from the golem. Both of the golems were once again standing beside them, faceless, unmoving statues.

  Feeling the pressure of the warm rag on his back, he winced. “How does it look?”

  “Awful… but the skin seems to be mending well on its own. I don’t know how, but you are not infected.” Her gentle fingers traced a circle in his back around the spot where the scarab had burrowed within. “How do you live with this?”

  “If not for that enchanting relic, I surely would have died, and Ingrid the Insane would be ruling the world. I suppose it’s the price for peace.” He smirked. “Someone had to pay it.”

  Dizon moved in front of him. She put her soft lips on his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

  He took her hands gently in his and kissed them. “Yet I burn for you.”

  A smile spread over her face. “Even in a dark time like this, you still want me.”

  “I’m a man. We never stop thinking about what we want.” He moved his hands to her rear end and pulled her in closer. “And I want you, always.”

  “Obviously.” She sat down on his lap and stroked his head. “And I’m always yours. But we can’t hide forever in this swamp. We’ve come to the Black Tower and gained nothing.”

  “Perhaps from your perspective, but I’ve gained a great deal. I’ve learned more about the Founder’s Stone, and as haunting as it is, I’m glad of it.” The mystic sound that Inslay had produced had severed their connection somehow. The snail lord’s abilities had not been strong enough to hold, thanks to several distractions, but it had been enough for Finster to learn that the Founder’s Stone was possibly sentient. It seemed to have a will of its own, and if it did, he surmised it would only get stronger with time. The question was, was the magic in the stone truly sentient? Or was it just a manifestation of his own desires? Could Finster control it, or would it eventually control him? At some point, he feared he would have to make a choice whether to embrace the powers or not, but in the meantime, he had to keep the Founder’s Stone and the rings of power out of the wrong hands. “I need to find someone I can trust.”

  “You can trust me,” she said.

  “I truly believe that.” He reeled her in for a kiss. “King Rolem’s plans need to be outed, but I’m not so sure that any of the other kings would believe me. Possibly Toozan or Archmenis. They are the most independent of the other sea-hugging kingdoms. They’ve never cared for the puffery of Mendes.”

  “I still think—”

  “Yes, I know, kill King Rolem the Grand. My, you are a bloodthirsty wench, aren’t you?”

  “I’d never harm a fly if I didn’t have to. The king’s ambitions will only get more people killed. I say end it. In the end, it will be him or you. It better be you.”

  “I can’t.”

  She looked him hard in the eye. “You can. From a great distance. No one would know it. Make it look like an accident. Drop a loose stone on him or something. Crush him like you did that snail.”

  “Heh-heh, you really are something. Regardless, someone will always come after me and Moth. The magi from all over will not rest knowing that the rings and the stone are about. Speaking of which.” He looked left and right. There were no signs of Rinny and Moth. “Huh, it certainly is serene without them. I could get used to this. Just the two of us, living happily in a bug-infested swamp. We could be the new king and queen of the bog men.”

  “I think we both deserve better,” she said.

  “You don’t have your eye on a crown in Mendes, do you?”

  “Never. It’s the simple life for me.”

  “Uh-huh, I see.” He caught movement from the corner of his eye and turned toward it.

  Moth and Rinny, on horseback, appeared from around the backside of the tower. The girl seemed like an infant compared to the massive savage who sat beside her. The lake water had rinsed the muck from the barbarian, giving his strapping frame a clean look. The sullen-eyed man held the reins. His dead stare hung on Finster.

  “I think we are leaving,” Rinny said.

  “Is that so? And why do you say that?” Finster replied.

  “Moth and I packed all of the gear up. Can’t you see? The horse is loaded down.”

  Finster’s eyes swept over the horse. Indeed, aside from the pot over the fire and a few other items, they were ready to go.

  Dizon moved out of Finster’s lap. “Rinny, I think Lord Finster will decide when it is time to leave and not time to leave.” Dizon didn’t hide her irritation. “Mind yourself.”

  “But Moth and I want to go,” Rinny whined.

  “You
and Moth will have to wait!” Dizon replied.

  Finster approached the horse and riders. “Little nuisance, does Moth communicate with you in some bizarre but unseen way?”

  With her chin up, Rinny proudly said, “I just know what he wants.”

  “If that is the case, where does he want to go?”

  Rinny looked about and after several seconds pointed south of their position. “That way.”

  Finster turned to Dizon. “Your daughter has no idea what she is talking about, does she?”

  “No,” Dizon replied.

  Finster stole a look at Moth’s fingers. The rings underneath the skin still looked like extra knuckles. He rubbed his mouth. So close. I can feel them. What will it take to get them? It didn’t matter where Moth went now. Thanks to the detection spell Finster had cast, he could always find the savage or the rings. Now all he had to do was figure out what it would take to separate one from the other. And if he could detect them, other mages would be using their resources to detect them too. In the meantime, he had the feeling that Moth was content to stay wherever he was. What to do, what to do, Finster?

  Dizon laid a hand on his shoulder. “Where you go, we follow. I think I speak for all of us, even the mute.”

  He turned his chin over his shoulder. “So, my back is not spread with infection?”

  “No, the skin is growing callused again. But those green veins are spreading like ivy.”

  Finster looked at his bare arms. Dizon was right. The green veins that journeyed beneath his skin looked like a bizarre plant growing within. He knew he couldn’t live like this forever. At least not without the rings of power. “How can you even bear to look upon me like this?”

  She handed him his robes. “These help.”

  “Yes, but he’s still gross,” Rinny said.

  Dizon shot her daughter a perturbed look then said, “It is your heart that matters to me.” She helped Finster put his robes on.