Thrall

by Steven Shrewsbury

  When the two passed Gorias in the hallway, he stopped. Hearing the heavy footfalls again, he muttered, “We’ll never make it out the window.” He noted the opposing doors in the hallway and kicked one in. Within the room, a pair of brunette whores crouched behind the bed, each holding flails. “Tammas, cover me.”

  He went flat against the wall. Tammas and Kayla both fired arrows at the stairwell opening and tagged guards rushing into the breech. Gorias kicked the door open opposite the one he just trashed. This room was vacant.

  Breathless, Maddox grabbed Gorias’ forearm. “What is it?”

  Gorias elbowed him toward one of the rooms and nodded for Tammas to get in the other one. “May as well clean them out.”

  Obediently and full of panic, the boys complied.

  He faced Kayla. “Draw that tooth pick of a sword and stand by me. We want them to rush us.”

  Looking at him dreamily, the sturdy girl did as he asked and stood in a defensive pose.

  “Now get ready…what was your name again?” He winked

  The two guards in the hallway stopped, facing down Gorias. The warrior stepped in front of Kayla and held out his swords, then motioned for them to come forward. One of the guards turned and ran down the stairs. The other stepped back, but kept his face toward them. Teeth showing, he looked hungry, but lacked the courage to attack a legend.

  However, the next one off the stairs did not dither. This stocky man wore thin chain mail and a heavy helmet. From his walrus skin pants and white furred cuffs, Gorias guessed him to have traded with the northerners, but his yellowy complexion betrayed him as not one of the barbarians from Zenghaus. Over his left forearm, this combatant held a small shield. Gorias’ eyes squinted as he observed the hands of the man. In his left, this mercenary carried a huge fan made of steel. This was an illusion, though, for the weapon quickly proved to be a series of glittering metal tomahawks.

  When he slipped one into his right hand and drew back, Gorias flattened on the wall and shoved Kayla across to the other wall. The first tomahawk flew between them. Kayla wore a look of shock, but Gorias never stood pat. Again filling the hallway with his broad frame, he charged on past the doorways. Raising his arms up to guard his unprotected face, he took the next two tomahawks in his armored forearms. Though well made, the small hatchets did exactly what they would do if they impacted on a real dragon—nothing.

  Gorias attacked, swinging his blades at the merc. With a guttural yell, he slashed the air, knocking two more tomahawks down. The experienced warrior leapt back out of Gorias’ range, went to one knee, and drew out a slender blade. With this miniature scimitar and with the small shield, he stepped up into Gorias’ attack. Every blow he made the merc parried. Every thrust he tried to turn into a deathblow, the merc turned to one side.

  Stepping back, Gorias kept swinging. His attacks were less refined and not as pointed. This made the merc think he gained the upper hand. Lusting for the legend’s blood, the man pursued. After a few steps, he stood in the line of the open doors. Maddox shot him in the kidneys and Tammas pierced his cheeks, like he had done the man downstairs. The warrior froze from this attack. It was at this time Gorias stabbed both blades forward, sweeping away the reflexes of the dying man then piercing the links of his chain mail, breaking through to his heart.

  The man fell and Tammas emerged from the room, saying, “That wasn’t the most gallant display, sir.”

  Gorias frowned. “There isn’t going to be an award issued later, kid.”

  Through the break in the attack, they ran down the hall. At a large window, they could see the landing and gap that led to the tavern roof.

  Maddox joined them last and pushed through, wanting to lead. While he started to climb out on the landing, Gorias gazed at the people outside and said, “I think your count is off.”

  Maddox shrugged. “I’m just glad not many are around the back yet. Their numbers are thinned out because so many came in the front.”

  He jumped across to the roof of the tavern. Quickly, Tammas went through the window and out after his friend. Kayla stared at Gorias and the old one pointed for her to go on ahead.

  Gorias was almost through the window when the palace guards reached the hallway on the second floor. He holstered his swords as he pulled his leg through the window. Reaching to his belt, he drew out his dirk and stood to one side of the window. Listening for the footfalls, Gorias counted in his head and then stabbed through the opening, blind. The powerful roundhouse blow sank his dirk in the soft guts of one of the guards. All of the guard’s air and some of his last meal ejected out his mouth.

  Down the hall, the whores emerged, slashing into the mercs and guards with their flails. Taken by surprise, they died where they stood. Gorias holstered the knife as he ran, leaping across the expanse with the younger folk.

  “Let’s hear one for the battling whores of Khabnur.”

  Tammas whispered, “Why don’t they shoot us from the ground?”

  Gorias took a few breaths, watched his grandson trying to kick in a window, and shoved the boys to the side. He threw his girth into the wooden panels, tumbling into the upper rooms of the bar.

  “Knows how to make an entrance, doesn’t he?” Maddox said to Kayla. She ignored him as they advanced.

  Dodging arrows from the guards on the ground, Tammas, Maddox, and Kayla stumbled through the opening the old man made. They assisted Gorias in rising up and he was laughing.

  “Nothing like partying with this old man, is there?” he said and drew his two swords anew. Drawing them afresh gave the old man new life.

  “Grandfather.” Maddox suppressed a laugh. “You said Robyn De Balm is arisen from the dead.”

  They moved into the dark hallway and Gorias replied, “Yeah, sure looks like it to me.”

  “Are you sure you killed him?”

  Gorias leered at the boy in the dim light from the moon filtering in the far window. “His head was a rotten tomato, son. He’s one of the blood disease victims now. The little bastard is screwing me with his lies to Lira Rhan even though he’s arisen from the dead.”

  Maddox pressed his point. “But since when do those leeches experience free will after they become vampires?”

  Gorias stopped. “Free will?” His face lit up. “The undead leeches are just that, normally--bloodsucking creatures who feed, fill up on blood, and march back to Nosmada.”

  Tammas asked, “Why is that?”

  Maddox replied, “No one knows…or do they, grandfather?”

  “They never talk much,” Gorias said as he cautiously approached the stairway that led down in to the tavern. “Robyn was a damned wizard. Maybe he planned on his death. Who knows? Apparently, he had enough brains to deceive Lira Rhan into coming this far. Kayla, why join us over your mother?”

  She bit her bottom lip and never answered. They were in such a hurry no words were waited for, nor given.

  They descended into the tavern and saw several figures by the light of the raging fireplace. Several barrels lined the walls on the north side of the establishment and Gorias moved closer to these.

  In this tavern stood Robyn De Balm behind three constables in grubby clothes.

  “Come on a bit closer, you little prick,” Gorias taunted the wizard, slapping his own bearded cheek with his right blade. “I killed you once, so step up for the final curtain.”

  “You erred,” Robyn said in a voice that made skin crawl. “By killing me, you made me more powerful. Certainly, the vampiric life of a blood vassal for Nosmada is not for all, but I see great possibilities. Your swords are of no good on me or these constables now.”

  Gorias glanced at his grandson. “The twerp has a point. We don’t have the correct weapons to kill them.”

  “I will not ask you or your grandson for the soul jewels, La Gaul. I shall take them from your dead flesh. You will arise and join the army of the
damned.”

  Gorias backed away, shielding Kayla, motioning for the boys to stay to the rear of him. Maddox gave him a strange expression, curious his grandfather backed down from this challenge.

  The three constables carried short swords and moved closer. They bore bloody maws and fangs in their undead mouths.

  “Hey, Maddox, I ever tell you how to kill a vampire?”

  His voice shaking, Maddox held his bow up and replied, “No, grandfather. I think you left that story out.”

  Robyn stepped up beside the constables and they were within two yards of the old warrior.

  “Well, a wooden shaft in the heart, direct sunlight, and running water.” He raised his swords and the constables stopped. “Or in this case, beer will do.” He slashed at the small legs holding up the barrels of booze and they tipped down. Gorias then slashed at the top of the barrels and they burst, spraying stored up, pressurized beer on the constables. Under the spurt of the compressed fluid, the beer doused the constables and they started to scream. Their skin melting, they fell to their knees. Kayla drew back and started swatting heads from their bodies

  The tiny undead necromancer raised his tiny arms and chanted,

  “The supplication is made, dire mother-father of the scarlet Chaos!

  I conjure the viper coiled at the base of your mind.

  The serpent that coils around your black heart, dire lord.

  Send your seed on bats wings to destroy the man of lore.

  The enemy of all things dark, who fights with angels wings!”

  “That’s enough,” Gorias said, on Robyn in a few strides. Cutting down with both swords, the arms of the dwarf flew off in an instant. With a swipe, Robyn’s head became airborne and the tiny torso slammed down into the running fluid.

  The head stopped rolling, but it never stopped talking. “I will call up the flames of hell and burn this city! I shall quench the flames with the blood of your children!”

  Though an eerie sight, the babbling head of the dwarf wizard didn’t inspire much fear in the group.

  Tammas even ventured forth. “How can he speak, detached from his body?”

  Gorias shrugged. “It’s dead anyway. It doesn’t use air like the rest of us.” He smirked at the head still talking. “Go on. Shout to your black heart’s content, ya freak. Now, we burn these bastards proper.”

  “Grandfather,” Maddox said, staring at the ceiling. “I think the spell of De Balm worked.”

  The dusky shadows on the ceiling increased, and amidst this murky cover it sounded like rats ran overhead. At the four corners of the tavern, Gorias thought the ceiling curled down. But no, the angles bent sharper and leathery. When the first tentacle dropped and slithered near Tammas, the bard squealed like a girl.

  Maddox cursed and drew his sword. As another slimy tendril dropped from the ceiling, Kayla moved toward the door. The swag belly of the horror swung down and blocked her path of escape. Out from behind this trembling gut unfolded six legs, insectoid in appearance.

  Gorias scraped his swords together. “Don’t know whether to crap or drink beer.” He stabbed up into the ceiling. “Guess I’ll crap in my beer.”

  “We have to get out of here!” Maddox said, chopping the tentacle off Tammas.

  Kayla stabbed her rapier, crying out in a voice close to fear.

  “Smart boy,” Gorias murmured.

  Maddox ran for the door and Gorias stabbed upward, over and over. Uncompromising in his purpose, he savagely swung his blades at the horror conjured from the realms beyond. Kayla tried to join the fight, but a tentacle thrashed her to the ground. Soon, it was clear that only the swords of Gorias La Gaul could damage this unnamed horror.

  A segment of this shadowy evil detached itself and plopped on the floor. In moments, it started to rise and take a humanoid form. Not waiting to see the outcome, Gorias slashed across it many times. It fell back to the floor like minced up pudding, and again tried to re-form. Gorias slashed it again. In time, the energy waned and this creature ceased to rise.

  After the great fight, the ceiling stopped its attack. The nebulous opening sealed and became solid.

  Gorias took several breaths, trying to get his strength back. He scooped up a mug off the bar and dipped it in the belly of a broken barrel. After drinking deeply, he wiped his mouth on the edge of his cloak. He watched Kayla arise, pick up a discarded short sword, and behead the last struggling constable, never wavering in her motions. The torso and limbs of De Balm sizzled to nothing in the tide of beer. Gorias stalked outside and the two youths flanked him.

  With little breath left in her, Kayla asked, “What are your swords made of?”

  There was no answer given.

  Lira Rhan stood with more guards by their horses. A few mercs stood behind them, but they decided to depart at Lira’s sigh. She wore a frown. “Where is De Balm?”

  “He’s back in the tavern, cursing every man who ever lived and promising to piss on every boy that is ever born.”

  “Damn you! Kill him!”

  A constable stepped forward and drew back his spear. His stare met with La Gaul and he paused. Gorias’ swords never hesitated and he thrust forward, stabbing him in the stomach and upper thigh, then he brought up the blades and sliced off the constable’s hand holding the spear. When the man fell, Gorias drilled him through the heart.

  As this man sank, Kayla emerged from the bar. She looked at the dead man and then at Gorias.

  “Sister.” He breathed hard as he addressed Lira Rhan. “Don’t listen to undead wizards. That little sucker was trying to get you killed.” He then related his version of the tale, how he killed Robyn and the constables, and they were undead. Lira Rhan’s face registered some confusion, but she tried to put on a brave countenance. “Do you find it so hard to believe we were heading to a house of ill repute before leaving?”

  Her frown grew deeper. “Your grandson is a thief and belongs on a slave caravan to Nosmada. He stole something the forward team of Nosmada wants. I find it hard to believe you don’t want this as well.”

  Gorias leaned on the hitching post outside the tavern. “Ever make ya wonder why your wizard wanted to stop me so bad? He was on the take, sister. All them damned wizards are out for blood as bad as the vampire children of Nosmada. I don’t trust any of them, and wish my grandson would knock off the necromancy lessons.”

  While Maddox bowed his head to these words, touching the poach on his belt, Lira raged, “But you must stop them from raising Wyss!”

  Gorias looked at the castle and chuckled. “You know, I doubt petty politics are what Nosmada’s men have in mind for Wyss. I have other things in mind, but I’ll ride north to the bogs and stop them. I have some time. I think Robyn was in this for himself. Not some other deal made with men on Earth, that is.”

  A screeching echo made them all look north. Lira gaped at Gorias but the big warrior never looked at her.

  “That isn’t good,” he muttered. “I think you have bigger problems than Wyss rising from the bogs.”

  Lira Rhan pursed her lips. “What? The army of barbarians ready to fall over my city in pursuit of weapons, just like Nosmada?”

  “That’s one thing, I guess. I was referring to that noise in the distance. The barbarians want Nosmada’s army dead. You all may fall under their eye if they beat them to death.”

  “Why is it that the barbarians want Nosmada’s forces dead?”

  “Well, for starters, Nosmada’s army thought they would teach a village of barbarians a lesson and chopped off their hands. That’s stupid. They should have just killed them.”

  Maddox blinked. “What?”

  “A barbarian can pick up a sword or axe with his other hand, too,” Gorias said.

  Another scream trumpeted in the night and a roar after it. A bizarre clucking noise followed this in the air.

  “I think that�
�s the voice of a blue dragon, in the direction of the ruins of Larak,” Gorias said. “Its remains must have been a matter of convenience for the worshipers. There weren’t many pieces left of that blue dragon. It was gutted and fed to the populace of a small village outside Khabnur.”

  “Oliverian?” Lira named the locale.

  “Yeah, that’s it. My mind is fading on names,” Gorias said. “I suppose the Cult of the Dragon hid the bits leftover. By the sounds of him, though, he’s pretty amused.”

  Maddox face flushed, and Tammas was full of terror. “The dragon is laughing?”

  “Shut up, kid, and go get my helmet,” Gorias snapped. “I’m too damned tired to walk in there again.”

  Lira Rhan turned to her remaining men and gave orders. As she did Gorias faced Maddox. “Anything you aren’t telling me about these idiots trying to get soul jewels? Anything you’re leaving out about the soul of Carlato Wyss?”

  Maddox wiped sweat from his face and said in a low voice, “The soul of Wyss was gone already. I had to tell the cult something, you know? They can’t tell one crystal soul carrier from another.”

  “Carlato was gone already?” Gorias said and looked north. “Interesting.”

  “What does dragon meat taste like?” Tammas asked.

  “Rattle-snake. I’ve heard some folks say chicken, but I never could see that.”

  Kayla stared at the dead man at Gorias feet. “That constable worshiped you. I saw you two talking earlier. He became a man at arms because he wanted to be like you. He believed in you so.” Her tone sounded mildly shocked, not preaching.

  “I guess that’ll teach him not to believe in men,” Gorias muttered. “You should only have to face God once--after you’re dead. No matter how much you worship a human, they can kill you at any time.”

  CHAPTER VI

  Tolin and the Nark