“Oh,” Osgald said, lifting a brow. “What do you mean by that?”
“Knights are born of a higher station. They keep their noses up and rear ends puckered. They aren’t different from any other sort of man. They just have nicer armor.”
Chet pulled a dagger from his belt. “I’ll cut your insolent tongue out, cur! You know nothing of what you speak!”
Osgald stayed his knight companion with a firm hand to the shoulder. “Easy, brother. Our company has not seen us in action. He does not know what he’s saying. We are knights, not tavern brawlers. Stick that dagger back in its rightful place. This is just conversation.”
“Yes, put that blade away before you hurt yourself, River Knight,” Holger added.
Chet jumped up, his cheeks reddened. He pulled his sword free of his sheath. “I’ll not stand for that! Get on your feet, you filthy cur! You insult the knight, you insult the king. I’ll show you what it is like to hurt from a blade.”
Holger tossed a rabbit bone aside. “Are you challenging me, Sir Chet?” He laughed as he stood and wiped his fingers on his trousers. “Are you?”
Osgald gave Alexandria a serious look. “Your man needs a lesson in manners. I won’t be stepping in to prevent his blood from being shed if he does not mind his tongue. My men have honor they will defend.”
Alexandria stood. “My men take orders from me, but they are able to speak freely. I don’t muzzle them like hounds.”
“It sounds as if you don’t approve of a knight’s life either. A man forfeits his life to serve the crown with honor, and you would mock it?” Osgald asked.
“I have no issue with your duties. It was your man who pulled his sword. Not mine.”
“Your retainer attacked the knighthood unprovoked as we sat here, working in good faith.” Osgald’s jaw clenched. “Let him suffer the consequences.”
With a bored look, Holger glanced at Alexandria. She gave him a nod. He shrugged and drew his sword. His blade came smoothly out of the sheath. It was a rapier, double-edged, designed for thrusting and fencing. He sliced it back and forth and looked at Chet. “En garde?”
The group moved away from the campfire as the other knights gathered around. Chet’s eyes narrowed on Holger. It was easy to see that he wanted to murder the impudent man who had insulted him. “This is not going to be a sparring match. It’s a fight. You can yield, you can die, but it’s too late to apologize.”
“I don’t have any intention of doing any of those things,” Holger said with a crooked smile. “Let’s have at it then, Sir Chet. Show me this honor that you’re willing to give your life for.”
Chet lunged at Holger. Making it look easy, Holger parried the heavier longsword and danced away. With a swipe of his light steel, he cut at Chet’s eyes. The knight jerked his head out of the way. The combatants battled back and forth in a collision of blades. Chet chopped and thrust. Holger parried and countered with a smirk on his face. Chet had broken out in a heavy sweat ten swings into it. He wiped the sweat from his eyes.
Alexandria stood beside Osgald as they both intently watched the match. All of her assassins were proficient with almost any weapon, and many had mastered more than a few. Holger took full advantage of his lighter armor and moved cat quick, sliding away from Chet’s hard swings, which would gore or mutilate a man. It was the best entertainment she’d enjoyed in days, including her romps with Osgald.
Steady as a bull, Chet chopped and thrust, unwavering in his efforts. Holger showed no signs of fatigue. His rapier cut quickly, slicing against the knight’s armor. He poked a shot into the shoulder where the metal was thick. The thrust didn’t penetrate. Chet unleashed a clumsy, decapitating blow that would have cut through a much lesser man’s neck. Holger ducked. Chet overextended, leaving his gut exposed.
Holger took aim and thrust. Chet hopped away. Overextended, Holger looked up to see a victorious smile blossoming on Chet’s face, followed by a flash of steel. Chet’s sword took both of Holger’s arms off at the elbows. His arms and rapier fell lifeless into the dirt. He stood, looking at the blood spurting from his elbows. Eyes the size of plates, he staggered back and fell. Bleeding out, he sat gaping at the atrocious wounds as his life’s blood flowed out of his body.
Chet exchanged hearty handshakes with his fellow knights. All of them had broad smiles on their grizzled faces.
Osgald looked over to Alexandria. “Your companion was a fool. Chet is my finest swordsman. That’s the reason he stays on my right hand. Heh-heh. Holger thought to toy with him, but it was the other way around. Everyone here knew it except for your companions and you. I’d teach your men to think twice before they question the fortitude of a River Knight again. It’s not the armor and insignia that makes us. It’s devotion to our duty and our training.”
“He made the choice,” she said coldly. “We all live and die by the choices we make.”
“Yes, and Holger made a foolish one.” Osgald patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll help you bury him if you like.”
“No, we’ll handle it,” she said.
Holger lay on the ground with his eyes wide open. As an assassin, he had been good, very good, but as a swordsman, he’d been thoroughly outmatched. His big, wide eyes told the story that he’d made a very foolish move and paid for it.
Her last two men kneeled beside her. Without giving them a look, she said, “Bury him in the grove. All of him.”
The assassins picked up Holger’s arms and sword and loaded them onto his body. They each grabbed a leg and dragged him away.
Alexandria joined Osgald by the campfire. Taking a seat, she said, “I’m surprised you didn’t try to place a wager on it.”
“Knights don’t gamble. At least, not with our wages. We do what we do among ourselves as sport.” He slid his sword back into his sheath. “So, did you just lose your best swordsman? That would be a hard thing for a bunch of sellswords.”
“We’ll manage. Besides, we have you.”
“Yes,” Osgald said as he stared into the flickering flames of the fire. “That you do… for now.”
CHAPTER 85
Alexandria woke up at dawn. She lay on a blanket with her back to the still-burning coals of the campfire. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Carrion ravens darted over her head and landed in the sorcerers’ circle. The lanky robed men had moved out of their seated positions. They mumbled between themselves. Finally, Unus, the one in the blue-checkered robe, made his way toward the knights’ camp. Alexandria turned around and nudged Osgald. He sat up immediately.
“We have company,” she said to the knight.
Unus gave a nod. Smiling at them both, he said, “Good morning. We all wake to good tidings, as our efforts have paid off. The carrion ravens have found Finster and the savage called Moth.”
Buckling on her sword belt and covering it with her cloak, Alexandria said, “Where?”
“As it turns out, he is not far from our position. He is moving west, back toward the Free River away from the lakes.” Unus scratched the cottony crown of hair that ringed his head. “I see no reason why we won’t be able to cut him off within a day of hard riding.”
With a groan, Osgald got to his feet. “This armor becomes heavier every time I awaken. And it pins me to the ground like the dead when I sleep.” He caught Alexandria’s disapproving look. “But I love it for knights’ sake. So, wizard, what is our course of action? Do we follow your ugly birds?”
“Precisely,” Unus said. “My fellow mages and I are very eager to begin this journey. Please, have your knights and men make haste.”
“What are they so excited about?” Alexandria asked. “What have you seen?”
“The very face of Finster. Isn’t that enough?” Unus replied.
“It doesn’t make any sense that he would be heading west. Why would he do that?” she asked.
“I agree. He’d be heading into the lion’s teeth.” Osgald strapped on his belt, put his fingers to his lips, and whistled. Knights awoke and began breaking down the
camp. “How can we trust these birds of yours and your strange visions?”
“Did not King Mather have you accompany us for our bidding?” Unus asked.
“Aye. No need to rub it in my beard. I know my duties. I don’t know how a bird would know who or what we are looking for,” the knight said, walking away. “That dark insanity is not for me.”
As Osgald helped the knights gather their belongings, Alexandria hung close to the mage. “If you have seen him, what should we expect? You are holding back. I don’t think you should do that.”
“Says the leader of the Circle.” Unus sniggered. “You reek of magic to our fine-tuned senses, Alexandria. You might fool those knights that bulge with lust when they see you, but you can’t fool us. The moment you used it in the Port, we knew who and what you were.” He reached out and felt her cloak with his fingers. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nostrils. “The Assassin’s Shroud. A brilliant artifact of sorcery.”
She jerked her cloak away. “You couldn’t know that without someone telling you. By the river gods, King Rolem must chatter like a woman.”
“Yes, but you are the one that shifted form to please the knight. We caught that when you didn’t think we were looking, but we were always looking for you. The king told us that he’d hired the Circle,” Unus said. “Don’t doubt the powers of the magi of the high orders. We can find magic when we know what to look for. Now we have Finster in our sights, and I believe it will be very, eh, entertaining.”
“Rolem is such a fool,” she said. “He has no patience.”
“All kings are impatient. But to be clear, we have the same goal in mind. You can kill Finster, and we will recover the rings and the artifact. Don’t fret that our destinies are now united. It should serve as a good thing. Still, I don’t think that the knights will be very comfortable knowing that they are working with an assassin. They are honorable men.”
She laughed. “He probably knows too.”
Unus shrugged. “Well, we all have bigger problems to deal with now that the hunt for Finster is at an end.”
“We’ll see.” She gave him a threatening look. “When the time comes, you stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
“Agreed.”
Alexandria and her two men saddled up, and the entire group was quickly underway. Following birds that circled back from time to time, they moved southwest, the complete opposite direction from what she had expected. Things were not turning out as she’d hoped. The magi knew who she was, which bothered her. It wasn’t because it needed to be a secret, but the fact that Rolem had not kept anything in true confidence was a sign of weakness. She’d become no more than a pawn on the king’s chess table. She didn’t like it. What other pieces were being played that she didn’t know about?
Stay focused. Do what you were hired to do. Kill Finster.
Riding at a mix of gallops and trots, they didn’t stop once until long past midday. Sitting on horseback as a group, knights, assassins, and sorcerers stared into the cloudy sky, searching for the birds that had led them. Every one had vanished. Even the wizards began scratching their heads.
Osgald was the first to speak to Unus. “Well, what happened to those wicked pigeons from hell? Hmm?”
All three sorcerers sat on the backs of their horses with their eyes cast upward toward a fixed point in the clouds. Unus was in the middle of the pack. Squinting, they talked in low voices among themselves. The one in the gold-checkered robes pointed upward. He had hairy arms and short-cropped, bushy black hair and thick eyebrows. The red-robed wizard was a smallish man, the least of the three, with thinning gray hair swiped over the top of his head.
Finally, Unus said, “We are here.”
Alexandria and Osgald approached the sorcerers. “Yes, we are here. The question is, where are they?”
“You mean the birds or the ones that we chase?” Unus asked.
“Listen, Unus, I don’t care for your sorcerous games. I see no birds and no men. Just dust, dirt, and clouds.”
A carrion raven plummeted from the sky, hitting the ground hard near the knight’s horse. Osgald jumped in his saddle. His horse and many others whinnied and stirred. “What madness is this?”
From high above, dead carrion ravens fell like rain from the clouds. Looking skyward, the knights covered their heads. Finally, the last of the birds hit the hard earth. A few floating feathers followed.
Chet jabbed a finger at the sky. “Osgald, look!”
Alexandria’s chest tightened. Her heart raced. A black tower of stone descended from underneath the clouds. It was small at first but continued to grow. The massive structure drifted downward, right above them, forcing them all to spread out.
“By the kings, what in the world is that thing?” the marveling Osgald asked.
The tower hovered less than a dozen yards above them, leaving everyone’s jaws hanging open. Alexandria managed to tear her eyes away and look at the sorcerers. The men gazed upon the column of stone with wide eyes that switched back and forth between wonder and fear. Then she heard Unus utter a phrase that chilled her bones. “Beware the black tower that flies.”
CHAPTER 86
“Look at them, sitting on their horses with their jaws practically touching their saddles.” Finster stood on the top level of the tower, looking down at the knights and magi from between the battlements. Dizon, Rinny, and Moth stood beside him. “It’s moments such at this that I live for. It makes the pain worthwhile, momentarily. Rinny, toss down another bird.”
Rinny traipsed over the roof and grabbed the last dead bird that lay on the deck. Finster had killed them all with a shock spell he’d mastered years ago. Using the enchanted stones, rich in bits of ore, as a conductor, he’d sent a jolt through the rock. Fueled by the Founder’s Stone, the shock was enough to kill them all. Finster’s understanding of the tower’s latent mystic powers grew in that moment. He watched Rinny race back and fling the bird downward at the sorcerers. It spun on the way down, missing the mark.
All eyes from below were peering up at them now. Rinny waved. Four knights with loaded crossbows took aim at the girl. Dizon pulled her daughter back from between the parapets. “Stay out of harm’s way, and be still.”
“But Finster—”
“Hush. Mind your mother.”
Finster stepped up between the battlements and, in a loud voice, addressed the men below. “Who do we have down there, eh?” He scanned the men in the robes. He recognized the colors of magi of the higher orders. “My, has King Rolem dispatched more enchanters from the Violet Citadel? Have you not spoken to Satrap Chen, who tangled with me once? Oh, I suppose not, seeing as I killed him.” He leaned forward. “Is that you, Unus the Uncanny? Why, I almost didn’t recognize you from this stretch. And your jowls are sagging like a bloodhound’s. Too much indulgence in sweet pastries, perhaps. No offense.”
Unus shouted back, “It’s been many years, Finster, you Rodent of Whispers. We only seek a parlay with you. King’s orders, of course. Certainly, a servant of the Red Citadel understands.”
“Ah, yes, you follow the orders of a king who had the magi of the Red Citadel wiped out. I can only imagine that my fate will be the same.” Finster pointed to the knights. “I see you brought along some help.”
“The River Knights of Rayland are duty bound to bring in the murderer of their king. That’s you and the savage, Finster. You should come quietly and peacefully,” Unus said.
“I thought that we were going to parlay.”
“I think a polite conversation would be best. Perhaps the four of us can talk, magus to magus.” Unus moved his hands toward the men on his left and right. “Richter represents the Violet Citadel’s gold order, and Elam represents the high order of the red. We want harmony in the kingdom the same as you, I assure you.”
“Hah! The only thing the den of wolves in the Violet Order wanted was to see the end of the Red Citadel.” Finster wagged his fingers. “You are the dung heap of sages. I’m certain that
you put your full support behind Rolem and Ingrid.”
“I assure you, that is not true. We believe that Satrap Chen’s efforts against you were misguided.” Unus opened his palms in a friendly gesture. “It was an unfortunate thing.”
Finster scratched his chin. “Unus, come up. We shall chat.”
“I’ll not come alone, animator. I fear the power that you have.”
“You should,” Finster remarked. “Fine, all of you come up, and bring some wine if you have some.”
One at a time, starting with Unus, the sorcerers floated up out of their saddles. They sailed upward, floating on air, not stopping until they landed on the top of the Black Tower.
Finster created four throne-like seats from the stones of the battlements. He sat in one that faced the three men. Moth, Dizon, and Rinny stood to the side of him. “Please, have a seat.”
Unus cast a nervous look to his clammy-faced companions and sat down. “You wield tremendous power, Finster. And this tower”—he scanned the area—“it flies on its own.”
“It flies on my command.”
The sorcerers shifted in their chairs. Unus wrung his hands as he spoke. “You command a great deal, Finster. And you do this with the Founder’s Stone that you have mastered?”
“I do. It makes me omnipotent.”
Richter of the golden robes, a middle-aged man, with a turned-up nose[ICS6], scoffed. “No one is omnipotent.” His caterpillar eyebrows wiggled when he spoke. “Such boasts are always full of folly. Look at you, Master of the Inanimate. Your veins pulse like worms. The skin on your bones is ashen. The power you wield has made a host of you.” He stuck out his grip. “Trust us! For only we can see you through this dilemma.”
“It’s not a dilemma for me.” Finster politely clasped his hands together. “I have all of the might I’ll ever need. I have the might that will topple kingdoms. Now tell me, Unus, do you have an offer that I cannot refuse, or shall we just battle to the death?”
The Red Citadel and the Sorcerer's Power Page 28