The Trials of Lance Eliot

by M. L. Brown

  It didn’t take long. The door opened. A silhouette slipped in and gestured with a limp hand. There was only one thing I hadn’t expected. The Necromancer’s puppet was the body of Tsurugi.

  I can’t describe my horror and revulsion. My friend’s body, which deserved to be laid to rest in honor, had been defiled. It was a cruel trick of Maldos, probably intended to weaken my resolve. Ironically, it had precisely the opposite effect. It made me too angry to be afraid any longer.

  I stood and walked out without looking at the body. As before, I was directed by the silent forms of the Necromancer’s puppets. Again I heard the sound of footsteps behind me, but I didn’t run. I knew Maldos needed me alive. What was the point of running?

  I entered the triangular room and found Maldos sitting like a waxwork upon its throne. My companions, all seven of them, stood before it.

  “I expected you sooner,” it said as I came up beside the others. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Here I am,” I said. “Drat you, here I am! What do you want?”

  “I think you know.”

  “I know what you want from me. What do you want from the others?”

  “I’m not a very demanding host, Lance. I ask your companions for only one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Amusement. I invite them to attack me.”

  “Don’t do it!” I cried, but Saif had already grasped the hilt of his katana and rushed forward. Maldos made a sharp movement with its hand. There was a crack and a shriek of pain, and Saif fell to the ground with his arms broken.

  “What fun,” said Maldos as Saif lay whimpering upon the cold stone. “Thank you for obliging me. Would the next man step forward?”

  Kana slipped a hand into his pocket. I squeezed his arm and hissed, “Don’t try anything.” He withdrew his hand, and I relaxed. That was a mistake. The moment I let go of his arm, he threw something.

  “A fine attempt,” said the Necromancer, clapping its hands. A shuriken hung in the air before its throne. “I admire your bravery. Now I’m very interested to see if you catch as well as you throw.”

  Maldos motioned with its hand. There was a flash as the shuriken sped across the room, and Kana slumped to the ground beside me with a gasp.

  I gripped my staff until my hand hurt, thinking desperately. I could almost hear Tsurugi telling me, “Don’t give up. Don’t give up.”

  Then, in one blinding instant, I remembered something.

  “Don’t move,” I said. “Men, for God’s sake, don’t move. Be patient, and wait.”

  “You’re delaying the inevitable, Lance,” said Maldos. “Whether or not you choose to amuse me by resisting, you will all die in the end. You are my guests, however, so I’m willing to concede final requests. I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little longer. Take your time. Be still and wait patiently. Let us see who is the first to tire of waiting.”

  Time seemed to have frozen. Jian crouched next to Kana and put a hand on him. The legionaries muttered prayers or swore under their breath. I stood, blinking back tears, clenching my teeth, watching the Necromancer. It sat with that ghastly smile, watching me.

  Then a convulsion shook its body, and it spoke in that odd, inexplicably changed voice.

  “You are parasites, vermin to be eradicated, crawling over the face of this planet and persisting in your pointless survival. You do not deserve to exist.”

  The Necromancer convulsed again. Before it could recover, I sprang forward and swung my staff with all my strength.

  The staff struck Maldos with an awful crack. Without pausing, I spun as Tsurugi had taught me and struck twice more. I stepped back. The Necromancer lay crumpled upon its throne, one arm bent at an unnatural angle, white eyes staring.

  “I can’t see,” gasped Maldos. An expression of wild fear passed over its face. “This is the end. It’s the brink. I must see, but I can’t. I can’t see.”

  The Necromancer’s face relaxed, and I thought it was dead. Then it spoke once more in that strange voice.

  “This puppet has outlived its usefulness,” it said, and then threw back its head and shrieked.

  A shadow rose from its body and hung over us, like an endless sky without stars or planets, immeasurably vast, dreadful beyond words.

  Then it disappeared.

  The room instantly felt fresher. There was a short series of thumps as the puppets behind us slumped to the floor. All was silent.

  “Kana,” I said, falling to my knees. “Don’t die. Don’t die, hang it! Regis would never forgive me.”

  Kana’s body began to shake. Everything I had ever read about muscle spasms and deathbed convulsions came to my mind. It took me a moment to realize he was laughing.

  “I am quite well,” he said. “So is Saif, who imprudently had his arms broken.”

  I looked up. Sure enough, Saif was standing with his arms crossed and a grin on his face.

  “How did this happen?” I demanded. “Kana, I thought you were dead. You should be dead. Why aren’t you dead?”

  “Jian is a Curamancer,” said Kana, sitting up and rubbing his chest.

  “I thought he was just a medic,” I blurted.

  “It’s the same thing,” said Jian, twisting the ring on his finger. “Didn’t you know all medics are Curamancers?”

  Aidan had educated me upon that point, as a matter of fact, but I had forgotten it. I was about to answer Jian when the etching on his ring caught my eye.

  “Hold a moment,” I said, taking Jian’s hand. “I’ve seen this symbol before. It’s Tsurugi’s mark, the mark on his forehead.”

  “It’s the Kanben family crest,” said Jian, withdrawing his hand.

  I put my head in my hands and tried to think. “You’re related to Tsurugi?”

  “He was my brother.”

  I was silent for a little while, trying to make sense of everything.

  My reverie was disrupted by one of the legionaries (I think it was Cid). “We’d better take a look around,” he said. “If we don’t find our packs, it’ll be a hungry march back to Valdelaus.”

  The dim radiance that lighted the halls was fading, but we found our packs and struck a light before it went out entirely. Each of us took a lamp and explored Akrabbim, searching for prisoners. There were none. All we found were bodies, the empty shells of the Necromancer’s puppets.

  We emerged from Akrabbim to see stars shining above us. “It’s over,” I said, gazing upward. “We have come out of hell at last.”

  We dragged the bodies out of Akrabbim and laid them on the floor of the gorge. Kana was reluctant to leave them on the ground like refuse, so I suggested a Viking funeral. He agreed (after I explained the concept of a Viking funeral) and sent the legionaries to gather kindling. They returned, spread brushwood on the ground and laid the bodies upon it. We poured our lamp oil on the pyre and set it alight.

  The flames leapt into the night. As the legionaries departed to gather more wood, I sat with Kana and Jian and stared into the flames.

  “Jian, why didn’t you tell me Tsurugi was your brother?” I asked.

  “Because I hated him,” he said. “I hated him till you came back and told us he had died to help you, and I realized he was human after all.”

  “Why did you hate him?”

  He did not reply.

  After a long time, as the sky began to pale and the fire dwindled to glowing coals, Jian said, “I’ve met many heroes in my life, Lance. You’ve outdone them all. You’ve destroyed Maldos, and saved Rovenia, and reconciled me to my brother.”

  “Just imagine what Lancelot could have done,” I said, thumping him on the back. “You know, I think it’s about time for breakfast. Hang it, how I miss coffee.”

  20

  LANCE ELIOT AND THE KING

  WE EMERGED FROM THE gorge of Akrabbim to find ourselves in a wide land, divided into fields and dotted with barns and farmhouses. The grass was withered and the fields were empty, but it was still a glorious sight in the light of mo
rning. Several fields had been burned to gray ash. The remains of the dragon lay less than half a mile away.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I said, covering my nose. “That smell isn’t helping my appetite.”

  The grass already looked a little green. Before two days had passed, there were flowers blooming. Before a week had gone by, we met caravans of wagons traveling eastward: farmers returning to the houses and fields they had abandoned. We purchased hunds from a passing farmer, rode through the gap in the mountains, turned northwest and hastened toward Valdelaus.

  We stopped in several villages to rest and resupply. Everywhere we looked, we beheld relief and joy. Even the most skeptical villagers had been convinced of the Darkness when it covered the mountains. There had been rumors of Nomen to the west, and the villagers had panicked. Many families had stocked their homes with supplies and barred themselves inside.

  Then the Darkness disappeared. The Nomen did not attack. Fear diminished, and the villagers ventured out of their houses. Celebrations ensued. Musicians and dancers filled the streets. Many businesses gave their workers an impromptu holiday. In short, all was well in the first few villages we visited.

  This changed as we approached Valdelaus. The towns and villages around the city had been razed.

  “What happened?” I asked as we paused in the charred remains of a town square. Flakes of ash drifted by on the breeze. “Hang it, what happened here?”

  “Nomen,” said Kana, inspecting the ruins. “I suspect they were on their way to Valdelaus and raided this town for provisions.”

  This was turning out to be an empty victory. What was the good of saving Rovenia from the Darkness if it had fallen to the Nomen?

  At last we beheld Valdelaus. The remains of siege towers lay broken outside the city walls, and the grass around the city was scorched and trampled. Only the sight of the Rovenian standard flying proudly from the walls kept me from despair. When we came to the gate, we were confronted by the objectionable guard with the black beard.

  “State your business,” he demanded.

  “What happened to the city?” I asked. “Was there a battle?”

  “Of course there was a battle,” he growled. “Answer me, boy. What’s your business here?”

  Kana was probably the most patient man I ever knew. At that moment, to my everlasting amazement, his patience snapped. He leapt forward, seized the guard by the collar and shook him. “I am General Shoukan,” he thundered. “We have not come so far to be hindered by a ruffian. Stand aside!”

  Muttering something about “an actionable breach of protocol,” the guard complied.

  We entered the city. Kana and I parted with Jian and the legionaries, who were under obligation to report to the headquarters of the Rovenian Legion, and made our way to the Royal Palace. Leaving our hunds in the street, we crossed the courtyard on foot and were met by a doorman at the entrance to the Palace.

  He was reluctant to let us enter, so Kana stared at him until he relented and called for an attendant to show us to the throne room. We followed the attendant through hallways paneled with cedar, passed through gilded doors into the throne room and found nobody there.

  “His Excellency may be in the garden,” said the attendant, and led us through a side door onto a terrace.

  There stood Regis, elbows on the railings, looking into the garden with a pensive air. The attendant drew himself up and said, “Your Excellency, here are guests.”

  Regis turned around and cried, “Kana! Lance! You’re alive!”

  “Of course we are,” I said, and then added, “We may not be much longer, Your Excellency, unless you let go and allow us to breathe.”

  Regis released us from his embrace and stood back. “I’ve decided that the next person to call me Your Excellency will be put on bread and water for a week. It’s a mystery to me that none of my attendants seem to remember my name.”

  “The title is part of the regency,” said Kana. “Like fine clothes, courtesy and propriety befit a regent.”

  Regis frowned. “When I get an opportunity, I’m going to pass a law forbidding the use of any title for the regent but his proper name. But never mind that. Tell me everything. Did you destroy the Darkness? Is Maldos dead? I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, putting a hand to his forehead. “You’ve just gotten back, haven’t you? You should rest.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “If we could just sit down and have a cup of tea, I would be delighted to tell you whatever you want to know.”

  We were soon seated at a table in the garden. A steady stream of attendants brought out trays of food and drink: pastries, scones, rolls, pies, jellies, bottles of wine, jugs of cream, jars of sugar, kettles of blackroot and pots of tea of all colors and flavors.

  “These attendants are fine fellows,” said Regis in an undertone, “but they tend to overdo things. Ask for an apple and they give you baskets of fruit. Ask for a basket of fruit and they bring in an orchard of fruit trees in wheelbarrows. I’ve never dared ask for a fruit tree.”

  “All right,” I said. “I have my tea and a comfortable chair. Listen carefully, Your Excellency, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  I told him all that had happened, with occasional corrections and additions from Kana.

  “I’m glad you were able to give Tsurugi a proper funeral,” said Regis when I had finished. “He deserved it.”

  “Now tell us what happened here,” I said. “The guard at the gate said there was a battle.”

  “There was. A few days after you left, scouts came to the city and told General Fox that an army of Nomen had reached the Broad Road and were following it northward, like a flood rushing along a river channel, razing everything in their path. The General came to me. We immediately evacuated the people of the surrounding villages into the city.

  “When the Nomen arrived, they found those villages emptied of people and supplies. They destroyed the buildings and used the timbers to build siege towers and ladders. It was an awful sight, old boy. I stood on the highest balcony of the Palace and watched the Nomen advance like a swarm of red ants, burning and slashing and generally making a mess of things.

  “I had chosen Eben as my representative to the Voice of Valdelaus—the newspaper, you remember. As the Nomen approached the city, I instructed him to print a warning for citizens to fortify their houses, store up supplies and not venture outside any more than they could help. If the Nomen entered the city, I wanted people to be out of the way.

  “The General deployed our troops along the walls. I brought Maia, her family, Atticus and the orphans into the Palace for safekeeping. About half of my personal guards were sent to defend the Temple. The rest were stationed in the Palace. A day went by and nothing happened. Another few thousand Nomen arrived.”

  “What about the Tyrian army? Wasn’t it about to invade Rovenia from the north?”

  “I was getting to that, old boy. Where was I? Oh yes, the Nomen. They finally attacked. It was a rainy night, and we could hardly see them. Nearly two hundred soldiers fell before we were able to gather our strength and drive them away.

  “There were almost a dozen more battles, always at night when we were at a disadvantage. Twice Nomen managed to slip into the city. We had no choice but to send soldiers to hunt them down, weakening our defense on the wall. Things were pretty grim until the Tyrian army arrived.”

  “Wait a moment,” I said. “Things were grim until the Tyrian army arrived? I was under the impression that its arrival was a very bad thing.”

  “It would have been under other circumstances, but in our case it was an unexpected blessing.”

  “I think I understand,” interrupted Kana. “Lance Eliot, how do you destroy an enemy completely?”

  “Cut off his head and put a stake through his heart?”

  “If you would destroy an enemy completely, make him an ally.”

  “Exactly!” cried Regis, thumping a fist on the table in an un-regent-like display of feeling. “If we had faced the Nomen or the
Tyrians, one or the other, we would have been destroyed. But we faced both enemies at once, and that was our deliverance. We hardly had to fight. We simply watched as they collided with each other.

  “You see, the Tyrian army arrived one night during a battle. Assuming the Tyrians were our allies, the Nomen surrounded them and attacked. The Tyrian soldiers fought back, and by morning both armies had been devastated. At last an envoy came running to our gate and pleaded with us to allow the surviving Tyrians into the city. The Assembly debated whether we could trust them, but I insisted we take the risk. It was a bit of a gamble, I admit, but it worked.

  “The Tyrians entered the city. We fed them and sheltered them and healed their injured. General Fox had a long discussion with their commander, and they reached a compromise. The Tyrian soldiers would fight alongside the Rovenian Legion until the Nomen were defeated, and then return in peace to Tyria. We would shield them from the Nomen, and then allow them to go back safely to their own kingdom.

  “The Tyrians became our allies, yet the Nomen pressed against us night after night. We began to lose hope. Then something happened. You’ll never guess what.”

  “Tell us,” I said.

  “One night we fought an especially terrible battle. Our soldiers were tired. Our medics had almost completely exhausted their magic. The sun rose and the Nomen retreated, but we didn’t think we could survive another fight. Then the sound of marching came from the south. As we watched in amazement, another army came riding up the Broad Road and smashed into the Nomen from the rear.

  “It was an army of carpenters, stonecutters, miners, tanners, shepherds, smiths, fishermen, farmers—men and women from all the towns and villages of the south. Guess who was in the front line.”

  “I haven’t any idea.”

  “Miles.”

  “You’re joking!”

  “I was stunned. He had always seemed gentler than a lamb, but he rushed into the battle with a hatchet in either hand and let the Nomen have it. They were tired from fighting all night and didn’t expect an attack from the rear. They panicked. We opened the city gate and sent out our surviving soldiers.