“Indeed. Garm broke our contract and fled the brotherhood, hoping to seek shelter amongst Tethis’ Legions. But, it would appear that fifteen years out in the world has apparently made my wayward son soft and foolish. How else would you explain the pure arrogant stupidity of simply walking in here to kill me? As if I would let such a thing occur. No, the Coils are aligned today. I think I will be able to balance our ledger today after all.”
“Yue, this may be hard to believe, but I’m not here for me today. I’m here under orders.”
“‘Under orders?’” The Underking rolled the words around his tongue as if they were unfamiliar. “Preposterous. No one in the Legions would dare move against me, not if they valued their lives or that of their families. Yes, you remember, don’t you Garm? I can be indiscriminate when I choose to be violent. So tell me now and save me the trouble of finding out later: who ordered you here so I may make scarecrows of their children?”
Garm smiled his hideous grin, and several things happened at once. Almost faster than Ryker’s eyes could follow, Garm pulled out two thin knives and hurled them across the table. One impaled the Underking in the shoulder, pinning him to his chair. The second was aimed at Blackwood, but it pinged away from the mage as if it hit glass less than an inch in front of his throat. Both of Garm's targets looked shocked, and as the Underking cried out in pain, the book in Blackwood’s hand flew open as if of its own accord. Instinct took over for Ryker, who grabbed the pouch and hurled it at Blackwood as the mage raised his free hand towards Garm, speaking wordlessly under his breath. The thin pouch hit the same barrier as Garm’s knife and burst open, sending a fine powdery red cloud everywhere just as a pulse of blue light shot from Blackwood’s hand.
The blue light burned through the dust, but as it did so it seemed to bend in the air and burst into blue flame, as if something in the dust caused the spell to lose focus. Blackwood had originally aimed his spell at Garm, but the dust actually diverted the flame, refracting its trajectory upwards over the heads of the Outriders, igniting the ceiling above them. The dust that didn’t dissipate from the flame quickly coalesced around Blackwood and his book as if he attracted it like iron dust to a lodestone. The dust caused a shimmer as it stuck to the invisible shield around him and ate through it, finally a small amount permeated the Weaver’s skin and he dropped to his knees retching, trying to ward the dust away like a man shooing flies.
“Holy hells!” Alek exclaimed, looking first at the downed Weaver and then the flames spreading along the ceiling.
“Not my best work, but it'll do,” Ryker said, modestly.
“Shut it, you two,” Garm yelled. He leapt across the table and punched the Underking square in the jaw, knocking the sifar into a daze. He then pulled his knife out of Yue’s shoulder and threw him over one shoulder. “Time to get the hells out of here,” he said as he ran for the door.
Through the door they saw Gnoll, his face contorted in a multitude of conflicting emotions. He and Garm shared a look, and Gnoll finally nodded and stepped past them, willingly oblivious to the blue flames and billowing smoke bursting out of the Underking’s room. He opened a door before the Underking’s chambers and closed it behind him. A moment later a bell began to ring out, whether to signify the fire or intruders, the Outriders didn’t know. The three guards who had escorted them previously were still on the staircase landing, and at the sound of the bell they looked up. Seeing the Underking slung over Garm’s shoulder they were not so passive as Gnoll was. They ran at the Outriders, drawing their swords as they drew close..
Alek charged forwards, his speed faster than anything the guards could have anticipated. He punched two of them simultaneously, one fist in each of their stomachs, and they fell to the ground gasping. A kick to the third’s chest sent the guard crashing through the landing’s railing and falling down to the floor. Alek turned to the others then his gaze drifted behind them over their shoulders. Ryker saw his face shift from nonchalance to near panic. “Come on, dammit! The whole building is going to burn at this rate, starting with this floor!” When Garm approached, Alek lifted the Underking off of his shoulder is if picking up a piece of firewood.
“Aren’t you, like, fireproof?” Ryker asked as they flew down the steps.
“Not really the time I’d choose to find out,” Alek replied. “Plus blue fire seems a little scarier than the regular kind.”
Somewhere within the manor the Outriders heard a crashing sound as ceiling gave way to flame. Men they couldn’t see called out to one another as they awoke to chaos. Blackwood’s flames spread fast. By the time the Outriders had retrieved their weapons by the front door the second floor had begun to burn a dazzling blue. Ryker chuckled to himself, and Garm looked at him blankly as he slipped his greatsword over his shoulder.
“I just hate goatees,” Ryker said. “You know, like the one that copper penny wizard from upstairs had? His whole being was an affront to style.” Ryker gave the burning manor house one last look as unearthly flames began to consume the walls. “Yeah, Toma's right. We do good work.”
Chapter Fourteen
Johan, Vegard, and Toma lay in the brush just past the small courtyard of the Underking's manor, weapons ready. The three guards at the front door had followed the other Outriders inside, and all was quiet. The archers and the rooftop had relaxed and were talking amongst themselves. The sun was slowly rising, and the morning dew was beginning to evaporate. It felt like it was going to be a hot day, Johan thought.
Johan and the others lay concealed for what seemed like an eternity. As it was, the manor house was a rather pleasant looking place, even if it did seem oddly transplanted from a city to the middle of a farm.. Gentle birdsong echoed through the woods, with the occasional chatter of an angry squirrel. It would have been a great morning to eat a plate of eggs on the porch of the barracks, bantering with Ryker, Alek, and the rest. Instead, it had been a morning where he possibly had just sent his friends to their deaths.
Laying there in the quiet of the underbrush, Johan began to question himself. Did he make the right call, only sending in those three to take the Underking? Granted, just the sight of Garm had cowed the guards, and Alek was devastating in close quarters. Ryker had some of Toma's experimental powders, for whatever good that would do them. He swatted at a tiny fly that tried to force its way into his collar. No, he had to hope he made the right call. Kian had said the Underking was meeting with a client later in the morning, so they had had to move fast. Certainly no time to wait and hook up with Roy's unit and hit the manor in strength. At least by breaking the team up, if the mystery client arrived early, Johan and the others could delay or even take them before they could hit the inside team from behind.
A small part of Johan, however, and an angry part he noted, cursed at him for being too eager to take down the Underking. He had told himself that he wouldn’t rush headlong towards glory, simply to do what he thought Sir Aldir would do. He was an adult, after all. Not that hero worshiping boy he was years ago. And yet there they were, at Johan’s orders, embarking on a dangerous mission. For little more than glory and prestige. Damn it all, he thought. He was a fool. And it was his men who would pay for it.
“Hold fast,” Toma whispered hoarsely, “someone's coming.”
Johan found himself holding his breath. Everything was still relatively quiet around the manor house. After a silent minute, there was a rustling of brush as two nondescript men emerged on the opposite side of the courtyard. Behind those two men came another man, who looked incredibly familiar to Johan. Following him was a woman in tight leathers and long silver hair, an older man with a sour expression on his face, and five more women behind him. At first Johan had hoped that they were just servants or, gods forbid, slaves, but it was soon evident that they were all armed aside from the old man. Three against ten was pretty poor odds, even with the element of surprise. Beside him, Johan heard Vegard swear under his breath.
“Gods,” Toma whispered softly, “I think some of them are w
izards or whatever, Commander. My bracers are going bonkers. Either there's one crazy strong wizard down there, or a few smaller ones.”
Johan felt his spine go to ice. Multiple mages to deal with, in addition to being outnumbered? This whole plan had been a mistake. They needed to get out of there.
“We need to figure out...” Johan trailed off as recognition crashed upon him like an avalanche. “Pike me,” he whispered, “that man, talking to the first two? It's gods damned Jurgund Kinnese.”
Toma narrowed his eyes, and then they widened. The three of them watched as Kinnese nodded at the two men, handed each of them something from his coin purse, then turned around to speak with the woman in leathers and one of the other women from the rear of the group.
“Goffs Shit, you're right, sir. Planes, just him by himself would be bad news. Good thing he's got nine friends with him, wouldn't want things to get too boring. Plus at least one or two of them can use magic...” Despite the situation, Toma actually grinned. “Looks like I’ll get that field test of my new junk after all.” He reached a hand back and pulled out one of his arrows that had the crimson line running through them, and held it in the ready position. “Just say the word, Commander.”
To Johan's other side Vegard got Ryker's bow ready as Toma handed him one of the custom arrows. “We really going to fire on these guys, Commander?” he asked. “Aside from Kinnese, we don't really know who they are.” As he spoke, he stuck two of his regular arrows in the ground next to him while he readied the arrow Toma handed him.
Johan stared intently at Kinnese, his teeth grinding. “I can't take any chances, not with the guys in the house. If they didn't arrive with him, I'd be more inclined to be merciful, but...gods damn it, the top secret hideout of the Underking’s criminal enterprise isn't the type of place for good, honest folk to congregate.” He blew out a breath, but felt the tension growing in his chest. “Kill Kinnese, the both of you. Once he's down, we'll sort out what to do with the others.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Vegard said. From the tone of his voice, Johan suspected this was making Vegard as uncomfortable as it did himself. “What are you thinking, kid?”
“The old wizard looking guy among them. He is just shouting “I’m an evil magician!” And I hate to say it,” the young man said, “but one of those women talking to Kinnese is giving me serious vibrations. Um, magically I mean. We may have to take them out next.”
“Can’t say I blame you. They are both lookers,” Vegard chuckled, breaking up some of the tension. “At least we get to take down Kinnese. I owe the bastard a concussion at the least.”
“Try and drop the mages as soon as you can,” Johan whispered, checking his sword and slipping his shield over his arm. “Try hard to clip them in an arm or a leg. I don't see any of the new arrivals carrying bows, so only their spells can hit us from here. And they'll figure out where we are soon enough. After you take them out, you have to remove those archers from the roof. Once they make us, keep firing until they get to about there,” he pointed to a spot halfway between them and Kinnese's group. “Then draw your blades, and try not to get yourselves killed.” He drew his sword, keeping the blade hidden so as not to reflect any sunlight. He heard the soft groan of bow strings on either side him as his men drew back. “Get ready to fire on my command. Three. T-”
Johan was interrupted by a loud crashing sound from inside the manor. As he watched, a tongue of blue flame jutted out of the manor’s roof, and the frantic ringing of a bell ripped through the quiet summer morning.
Kinnese turned to his two guides. “What's that ringing mean?” he asked.
“Someone's inside the manor,” one of them said before turning to run towards the manor with his comrade, their weapons drawn.
“Brace yourselves ladies,” Kinnese said, scanning the forest line around the manor. “Looks like things are going to get-”
“Look out!” Naria yelled. Almost simultaneously, two thin white tendrils of energy shot out from over Kinnese's shoulder and flicked at two speeding blurs, one of which was inches from his face. The tendrils of Power were so close he could feel the heat from Naria's spell. Arrows, Kinnese thought an instant too slow. When the blasts hit the arrows, a curious thing happened. The arrows didn't just burn up or deflect, they exploded into small red clouds, like smoke that shimmered in the morning light. He instantly felt strange, as an emptiness spread throughout his body, and he doubled over slightly as pain lanced through his entire body. Behind him, he heard Naria scream. Turning his head, he saw her slump to the ground, hands clutching her head and fear in her make-up stained eyes. Her four attendant girls looked to be in similar pain but they stumbled over to her and dragged her away, back into the forest from where they came.
“Pela!” he yelled, drawing his sword. “Kill those archers!”
Pela hadn't waited for the order, already streaking towards the edge of the forest. The pain was subsiding, but he still felt that odd emptiness within him. Drawing his own blade, he followed after Pela.
Whoever that was, they were in for a rude awakening.
“Piking yeah!” Toma exclaimed as he drew one of his normal arrows. “Five of them went down! Guess we can check that one off the...holy hells she's fast.”
Johan watched as the woman with the silver hair close the distance between them with alarming speed. Toma fired his second arrow at her legs, but she sidestepped it and drew two small knives from her belt. Vegard struggled to adjust his aim, but he couldn't track her. With a flick of her wrists, she hurled the knives in front of her. She may not have known exactly where they were, Johan saw, but she had a pretty good idea. One of the knives smacked into a nearby tree trunk with alarming force. The other slashed Toma across his left shoulder, and he toppled backwards with a yell.
“Damn my piking luck!” he bellowed as he fell.
Johan looked up and the silver-haired woman was almost upon him. He readied his sword but with a grunt Vegard tackled her before she reached the tree line, and the two of them rolled onto the grass exchanging blows. The scene was almost comical, the slender woman fighting like a demon against a man who was almost four times her size.
“You have got to be kidding me,” a voice said in front of him.
Looking up, Johan locked eyes with Kinnese, standing with his sword resting on one shoulder. Kinnese had stopped a dozen paces from Johan, who took a few steps forward out of the woods, his own sword ready.
“Johan Else, Outrider Commander,” Kinnese said, shaking his head. “Didn't expect to run into you again. Not this soon, at least.”
“Jurgund Kinnese, Outrider traitor,” Johan said, matching his tone. He gave Kinnese a once over. The man looked resplendent in his black tunic with its high collar and silver trim. “Forced retirement looks good on you,” Johan said. “Maybe the Judicators will let you keep your fancy clothes when I send you back to them.”
Kinnese grinned. “You talk a mean game, but this time I don't see your buddy Ryker with you to watch your back, or that fat piking Weaver to bail you out when things get rough.”
“Funny, I don't see any old men for you to use as human shields after I kick your ass this time,” Johan retorted, bringing his shield and blade up. “Guess we'll call it an even fight.”
“Point,” Kinnese chuckled as he brought his own blade up into a guard, “but this will be anything but even.”
Kinnese lunged instantly, bringing his sword downward in an aggressive killing stroke. Johan angled his shield up and deflected the blow to the side, and thrust his own blade forward to catch Kinnese in the stomach, but the older man was able to sidestep the blade and he swung his larger blade into Johan's, trying to disarm him. Johan was able to keep his grip on his sword, but his arm ached from the unnaturally strong blow. He leaped backwards as Kinnese again swung downwards at his head, this time hitting nothing but dirt. Bringing his shield down like a hammer, Johan trapped Kinnese's blade between the ground and his shield, and he scythed his own blade at the traitor's throa
t. Kinnese leaned backwards as far as he could without letting go of his sword, with Johan's blade just missing his throat. Johan's swing took him off balance enough for Kinnese to pull his sword free and he began hammering at Johan's shield in brutal two-handed strikes, never giving Johan an opening to strike. Suffering under deluge of strikes, Johan felt his arm and shoulder start to go numb from the impacts. He had to change things up.
After blocking the next heavy blow, instead of remaining static with his shield up, Johan planted his feet and sprung forward shield-first in one of the most basic Legionnaire maneuvers. He caught Kinnese in the chest with his shield and forced the man backwards. As he pushed, he caught the look on Kinnese's face. Was it approval? The blasted man was toying with him, and enjoying it the entire time. With an angry surge of strength, Johan renewed his push and shoved Kinnese upwards, kicking his legs out from underneath him. Kinnese toppled to the ground just as Johan kicked him hard in the midsection. Kinnese grunted and rolled to avoid Johan's blade as he swung downwards in a decapitation strike. Rolling to his feet, Kinnese grinned again.
“Not bad, son. But you're still fighting out of your weight class.”
“You keep calling me son,” Johan said through grit teeth as he set himself. “Guess that makes me one inbred bastard.”
Kinnese laughed, bringing his sword back up in a guard. “Please, don't make me start to like you now. I don't want to be reminded of you after this is over.”
“I'll see what I can do,” Johan snarled before charging forward, a flurry of strikes and parries erupting between the two men.
The silver haired vixen fought ferociously to get out of Vegard's grasp as they rolled on the ground. Trying to keep his grip on her was like trying to hold onto a greased eel, and she was damn strong. She somehow got a soft-shoe wearing foot under his throat and applied pressure, forcing him to let go of her wrists for a second. She rolled backwards with grace and slammed her elbow into his temples. He staggered back, rising to one knee when she snapped a punch at the bridge of his nose. Despite seeing stars, he blocked her punch, knocking it away. She snarled and lunged forwards, her elbow aimed at his solar plexus. He guided her elbow away with one hand and brought a knife hand chop to the side of her head. It connected hard, but she barely slowed down. She snapped a quick kick to the inside of his bent knee that knocked him off balance, and she launched a flurry of punches at his head. Vegard was able to block or absorb most of them by cradling his head in his arms before grabbing one of her fists and pulled her face first down to the ground. He went to slam his knee into her back, which would have brought his impressive weight down on top of her, but she crawled backwards on her belly too quickly and he missed.
Chasing Down Glory: The Outrider Legion: Book Two Page 24