by Rick Field
“Just what,” she demanded, “do you think you are doing?”
Steve was cradling his cheek, a look of respect on his face. “I am coming with you,” he said, again, ignoring the action that had gotten him slapped.
The shock had given way to bursting anger, and Liane drew a hissing breath through her teeth, and noisily let it out through her nose. “Should you ever feel the need to physically assault me in such a manner, it would behoove you to turn your weapon on yourself. It will be far less painful than the punishments I will enact upon you,” she said, coldly. “And no, you cannot come. Not before, and certainly not after you attempted to assault me.” She rubbed her lips with the back of her free hand.
“It was just a kiss,” he said, raising his hands, suddenly a lot more fearful and a lot less cocky.
“I do not know your society,” Liane snapped. “But here in Kiria, one does not press one's desire upon another unless completely sure it is reciprocated.” She turned to leave and caught the shocked look on Pertogan's face, the Necromancer gaping at Steve.
“Fine, I'm sorry about the kiss,” Steve said loudly, taking two very loud steps to catch up to her. “But you will need someone to watch your back.”
The anger wasn't completely gone from her system. “I am sure you would enjoy watching me, but I cannot be burdened by the thought of when you would attempt another assault.”
He gaped at her. “You're making me sound like some sort of pervert or rapist,” he wheedled. “That's not really fair, is it? We've saved each other’s lives before!”
“That was before your attempted assault upon my person,” Liane said, tersely.
“It was just a kiss!” he protested.
“It was not just a kiss!” she shouted, spinning around to face him. “One simply does not do such things in Kiria!”
He crossed his arms. “You're overreacting. You're making it sound like you've never been kissed before.”
She tried to, she really did, but she couldn't stop the blush from her cheeks. Seeing her reaction, he gaped at her, and was about to say something when she stopped him. “I do not wish to discuss the subject further. You are not coming. Period.”
Steve grumbled, his arms crossed angrily, but followed silently as Liane forcefully walked outside. As Pertogan had promised, a horse and its handler were waiting for her. As the Pillar was about to hoist herself up into the lady's saddle, Pertogan approached her.
“Perhaps, My Lady, a regular saddle would be better? If you are to be riding for days, a regular saddle is more comfortable than riding side saddle in a lady's saddle is,” the Necromancer offered, delicately and diplomatically ignoring the events of the last few minutes.
Liane remained next to the horse for a few moments, then resolutely shook her head. “A Lady's robes do not permit for straddling a horse, My Lord. Additionally, no lady would willfully spread her legs, and as I am most definitely a lady, I will use a lady's saddle.” With a single motion, she hefted herself into the saddle, made sure her sideways posture was correct, and placed her legs correctly to avoid injury or strain upon her new mount. She would be riding it for days, after all.
Her host dipped his head in acceptance. “It was but an offer, My Lady. I am sure that a set of female riding leathers could be found or produced that would fit you and permit you to ride astride rather than aside a horse.”
“I am aware that riding astride allows for greater comfort and control, and am grateful for your offer,” the Pillar replied, grateful that the dreadful alien Commoner was remaining silent. “However, time has come for me to depart; I must reach Philip by tonight.”
“I took the liberty of stocking your saddlebags with provisions that should last a single person a week,” Pertogan informed her. She nodded, already looking in the direction she would have to travel, her gaze focused on infinity. She blinked, her focus returning to the here and now, and looked down at her host.
“I thank you for your hospitality and aid, My Lord,” the Pillar said. “Now I must depart. There are likely to be hardships between here and the Capital.” Once more, she gazed at her direction of travel. Subconsciously, her hand tightened around Lucifer's familiar strength, and her eyes narrowed. Her magic reacted to her heavy emotions and her subconscious desire for retribution, and she could feel it well up from her chest.
She was aware that Pertogan took a step back, and focused her gaze upon him. “My Lady, I am aware that the Lord Milor of the Thunderstorms has proclaimed you the most frightening Mage he has ever met. I am now forced to admit that he is correct. If gazes could cast magic, I do believe you would have disintegrated my gate with the glare you had just leveled upon it.”
For a moment, her mind changed to more peaceful times, back at the Academy, where Milor had first given her his unofficial title. “I have no need or desire to level your gate, My Lord,” Liane replied calmly. “Thank you for your aid, now I must depart.” She saw Steve about to climb on a horse that had been brought out by one of the stable boys.
“You will remain here,” she told the man. It was neither a question nor an order; it was a statement of fact. Steve hesitated, one foot in the stirrup. Liane's eyes narrowed, and her magic pulsed. His foot came out of the stirrup, suddenly agreeing with Pertogan that Liane's glares made her look incredibly dangerous and frightening. Had he really seen the fires of hell burning in her eyes?
Whether it was a magical illusion, a play of the light, or a trick of his own mind, he didn't care. He'd seen her in battle, and was in no rush to have her wrath focused on him. She wanted him to stay, he'd stay. A sharp nod of her head indicated that she understood his new conviction. With one last wave, she took the reins of her mount, turned the horse, and gave it its orders.
For a moment, she debated the merit of throwing up the hood of the Pillar's robes, and allow its built-in spells to hide her identity. The thought was dismissed almost immediately, a few very large downsides apparent. First, she would have to hide Lucifer and carry it as a regular Pillar would carry her staff of office, which would cost her precious time when attacked suddenly. Second, anyone watching Pertogan's estate would immediately realize who she was anyway, anonymous or not – no other Pillars were present, after all.
The moment they were in motion, Liane's mind left Pertogan and Steve and the place of sanctuary, bringing magic to the fore, warping spells on and around her. The wisdom of Water had been invaluable, and with her new understanding of magic, both her own and other people's, it was fairly easy to put up a spell that would detect magic around her.
It wasn't as detailed as her Magic Sight, but had longer range and would drain less power. It would alert her to other Nobles around her, enough to give her warning of potential ambushes. It wouldn't do much against hostile spells that were incoming, but any advanced warning would be helpful.
Her thoughts were deep and focused, and she did not realize that she had crossed the boundary of Pertogan's estate until the wards fell away from her senses. She was out in the open once more. Her left hand tightened on the reigns, her right hand holding Lucifer ready should she be attacked. She had been chased here by that accomplished shadow-traveling Warlock. The man could reappear at any time, and who knew what kind of messages he had been able to send and what kind of reinforcements he had been able to gather.
Steve's shot had injured their opponent; a prudent Noble would have gathered medical assistance. She frowned, it had been good fortune that Pertogan had a Healer and a capable Assistant in his household. The horse's gait increased, and Liane made a conscious effort to slow it down. She could ride the trot, despite the hurt it would put on her body, but there was no way her mount would be able to keep up a canter for hours on end.
Plus, she had to keep it in shape for any attacks that would require her to spur it into a full gallop.
After an hour of uneventful riding, Liane's sense of danger started to shift. No longer did she mistrust trees, ditches, walls, or any sort of terrain that could potentially hide a p
erson. Her detection spell was new, and had performed when she had tested it within Pertogan's compound, but until it was tested in real-life conditions, she would have to rely on her eyes and ears to make sure that nothing slipped through.
It was wearing, to ride a horse and maintain vigilance, and Liane could feel her body relax and her senses dull. Perhaps the shadow-walker had gone for a Healer and she was free to ride for the Capital.
Something pinged against her detection spell, and it took a few moments for Liane to shift back to full alert. Unsure of herself on horseback, and inexperienced in the handling of one, it took her precious time and concentration to bring her mount to a halt.
She frowned, focusing on her surroundings. She could see nothing, neither normally or with Magic Sight, yet her large-area detection spell reported magic in the area. It was somewhat in front of her, slightly off to the sides, like a cloud of vapor hanging over the road.
She grit her teeth; her spell had alerted her, but it was imprecise over its full distance, it seemed. She whispered a spell, bending light in front of her. She saw nothing further down the road, at ranges far beyond normal human eyes. That meant that she was riding into an ambush, either from one or both sides of the road.
Carefully, she dismounted, wincing at the pain in her body. Even a ride of slightly over an hour produced discomfort. The horse snorted next to her, and Liane had the impression that it was amused at her less than experiences actions. Reluctantly, she dismissed the notion and ignored the animal.
Taking the reins in her left hand, she started to walk. Her cramped legs took long seconds to ease up and restore circulation, and she was glad to be able to walk properly after they did so. It would be difficult enough to do battle without cramped legs.
She stopped again; reconsidering her position. She was about to do battle, and walk into a trap of her enemy's design. It wasn't the smartest thing to do.
Then again, she was a Pillar, she realized. Up until this mess started, there was no need for her to think of things like this, and to act with anything except confidence. Now, though... now, she was being hunted, and hunted prey should evade and avoid, not attack head-on.
As she pondered her position, she stood stock-still in the middle of the road. She wasn't a Warlock, trained in military skills and Combat Arts. She was a Mage, trained in Elemental Magic. Perhaps it was time for her to leverage her superior skills against her enemy? It shouldn't be difficult to raise a few automatons from the dirt next to the road.
Unfortunately for her, her enemies seemed to realize that she had seen through their trap, as her detection spell barked an alert and suddenly increased in precision when its focus shifted from a wide area to the immediate surroundings.
Five Nobles had just shadow-traveled right next to her.
With her left hand holding tight on the reigns of her horse, she slammed the end of Lucifer down on the ground. Magic spilled from her lips, followed by a wave of energy expanding rapidly around her. As soon as her spell broke the shadow-concealment, she saw how the five had effectively surrounded her. All but one of them were Warlocks, one of them was the man who had been chasing herself and Steve to the gates of Pertogan's estate.
Anger roared in her chest, and her Runescape came up while the five were still casting. The runic boundaries flashed into being immediately, a small inner ring protecting Liane and her horse, a large outer one preventing escape or outside interference. The spells of her attackers splashed harmlessly against the protective barriers of the spell, and Liane paid them no notice. Skipping the first two defensive levels, she went straight to the offensive. She grunted as her spell drained her magic, grateful that she had discovered a way to flash it in and out of being at a moment's notice, decreasing the strain on her body to something manageable.
Three Warlocks were ripped to pieces, caught between the inner and outer boundary of her Runescape construct, the kill zone set up by her spell. Immediately, she dropped the spell, her left hand yanking on the reigns of her frightened mount while facing the Mage, who was pale and staring in shock at the three dead Warlocks. A faint outline appeared in the air, and the woman fell to the ground in a startled, soundless scream of obvious agony, her body contorting furiously.
The last Warlock, the one furthest away, was the highly skilled shadow-walker, the man who had dared wound her and had driven her and her companion to seek refuge. He attempted to vanish into the shadows. Another slam of Lucifer broke his spell. At the same time, words spilled from her lips; harsh words, words of power and intent.
The man froze, his head turning from left to right, his hands coming up. “Is anyone there!? Why can't I hear!? What's happening!? My Lady? My Lady, please!”
The clopping of hooves enraged Liane, forcing her to spin and raise a spell toward the enemy approaching at high speed from the rear. She abruptly halted, breaking off her enchantment at the sight of Steve riding up at full gallop. For a moment, she felt guilty about the choice of spell she had almost unleashed upon the man.
He dismounted easily, slipping from the horse with the ease of a man who had practice. Irrational jealousy at the sight immediately dismissed the notion of guilt from her mind, and she pulled herself completely upright.
“Are you alright?” the foreigner asked rapidly, approaching her with long, urgent strides. She did not care for the intimate way his eyes traveled her, searching for non-existent injuries. Her raised hand aborted his approach before he could grab her, a fact she was grateful for.
“I am alright, as you can no doubt see,” she said, somewhat waspishly. “I believe I asked you to remain behind.”
He was staring at the three dead bodies, the contorting Mage, and the Warlock, who was now on the ground, screaming spells at the top of his lungs, spells that seemed to do nothing. “What... what happened here?” he asked.
“I have killed those three,” Liane said, motioning to the ripped-apart bodies of the three Warlocks. “I killed her, too, but the spell is not having the expected reaction,” the Pillar added, turning to look at the Mage, who was now quiet on the floor, her body expanded to twice its normal size. “I believed a person in a vacuum would have their blood boil and their lungs explode. It seems that there is enough pressure in the human veins to keep the blood in liquid form, so it appears that she died from the extreme pressure difference. Slow and gruesome. I do not believe I will use that spell again.”
Steve looked sick, and stared at her in dismay. “Do not look at me like that,” the Mage snapped. “Had you not interrupted, I would have put her and him over there out of their misery. Instead, I'm explaining things to you.”
The pilot swallowed deeply. “That's a flimsy excuse,” he muttered quietly enough so she wouldn't hear him. Louder, he asked, “what did you do to him?”
“I expanded upon the blindness curse. I believe this one will be catalogued under 'full sensory deprivation'. Since he cannot sense anything, including his magic, he cannot even attempt to spell his way out of the curse.” She approached the man calmly, who was rocking back and forth, his arms around himself but obviously unable to even feel that. One of her fingers was pushed against his forehead, a single word from her lips later, he fell over like a marionette without its strings.
Steve was gaping at her when she returned to her horse. “Pertogan is right. You're fucking scary.”
“And you're going back to the estate,” she answered him, ignoring his foul word.
“Like Hell I am!” he protested angrily. “Two see more than one, and you'll need someone to watch your back!”
For a moment, she debated his statement. Her sensor spell had failed to catch his presence, obviously there was a blind spot toward Commoners as her spell only detected magic. She would have to expand and improve on it. Unfortunately, she didn't have the time. Nor did she have time to stand here and debate his presence, really.
Hefting herself back into her side saddle position, she pointed back toward Pertogan's estate. “Return,” she ordered.
Her mouth twisted into a grimace. She really didn't have time for this. She could force him with magic, true, but she didn't want to curse the man who had shared life and death experiences with her days earlier. It would be unbecoming; they had saved each other's lives on multiple occasions. “Fine, do not haunt me upon your untimely death,” she snapped, and spurred her horse. It was time to go. The forest of Philip was awaiting, and with the assassination squad deceased, the road should be open. Perhaps it would be a quiet ride and they wouldn't be attacked, and some company might be nice. Even if the foreign Commoner was an uncouth lout with a big mouth and tendency toward perversion.
He grinned boyishly and drew level with her. She ignored him, there was no way she would allow his looks to affect her.
They rode on, mindful of the condition of their horses, pushing only as hard as they knew their mounts would be able to sustain for long hours every day. Pertogan had been true to his word and had supplied truly magnificent animals.