Conqueror

by Isaac Hooke

  He felt suddenly very stupid for having commented on her breasts. This wasn’t some whore from Redbridge’s red light district who cheated men out of their money, but a powerful woman who destroyed entire cities and their populace for a living. Yes, not a woman to be treated lightly. Not at all.

  “You know, this might not just be sexual dimorphism we’re looking at here,” Ziatrice said. “There are some who say Mauritania is half human. You know what that means, don’t you?”

  Malem didn’t answer.

  Imagine the power you’ll possess once you Break her, if true, the half elf continued, switching to mental communication.

  He tried to ignore the comment, but couldn’t help the sudden power lust he felt.

  Yes, Ziatrice sent. Embrace the side of yourself that yearns for this power. Together, we can use it to save this realm. We’ll defeat Vorgon, and become the new defenders of the world.

  He shook his head slightly. Its conquerors, you mean.

  We have to conquer it first to save it, she agreed.

  All conquerors disguise themselves as saviors at first, he said. And some even believe they are.

  Give yourself whatever excuses you need, Ziatrice said. When you’re ready, I’ll be there for you, at your side, to hold you up.

  He instructed the rat to return to the floor and it promptly released the drapes. The rodent fell fast and reached out frantically to slow its fall. It finally found purchase, digging in its claws into the fabric, but its momentum carried it downward and it cut a long line into the curtain.

  Malem cringed, expecting the Black Sword to wake up at any moment, and so he had the rat wait at the base of the bed, ready to dive into the gap between the lower mattress and the floor at the first sign of trouble.

  However, nothing happened.

  Mauritania was a sound sleeper, apparently. With sentries guarding her at all hours of the night, of course she would be.

  He sent the rat back to the door; when it squeezed through, he directed it past the guarded hallway, and it moved from boot to boot alongside the wall again. The rodent soon left the guards behind and rounded the bend. When the soldiers were out of view, Malem ordered the animal to shelter in the adjacent bedchambers and await further instructions.

  Before dismissing its perspective, he watched the rat enter the room, and then studied the far wall, which he guessed bordered the queen’s bedchamber.

  He turned toward Abigail. “I wonder, how thick are these walls?”

  “Not very,” Abigail said. “Mauritania resides within the king’s bedchamber. Your rat is currently in his eldest daughter’s. Or what once was her quarters. Ordinarily, Goldenthall had guards watching her door, too, not just for his daughter’s safety, but because by breaching her chamber one could easily enter his own by simply breaking through the adjoining wall. Or at least, that was his fear.”

  Malem nodded. “So we enter the eldest daughter’s room, break down the wall without waking Mauritania, and then she’s ours.”

  “Probably won’t be that simple, but that sounds about right, yes,” Abigail said.

  “It doesn’t matter if we wake Mauritania,” Ziatrice insisted. “Not if we’re quick enough. Break down the walls as loudly as you want, and I’ll still throw my chains upon her while she’s halfway between the waking world and the dreaming. Before she can raise any defenses, I’ll have squeezed the life out of her. Meanwhile, you’ll Break her.”

  He studied Ziatrice uncertainly. “As long as you can promise me you won’t kill her this time, like you did with Barrowfore. You have to control yourself.”

  The night elf returned his gaze defiantly for a moment, as if insulted at the notion, but then nodded. “I will control myself.”

  “Good.”

  Now that he had a route to the bedchamber, he released the rat and broke another that was closer, and had it take up a watch position at the top of the stairs to the next level.

  “This time, everyone drinks,” Malem said, eying Gwen, who had held back before the mission.

  He retrieved his canteen, shook it vigorously, and drank. He grimaced at the flavor, and after a few gulps, shared the canteen with Abigail and Weyanna, who didn’t carry water containers.

  Gwen hesitated as she held hers to her lips. The disgust was obvious from her wrinkled nose.

  “Fuck it,” she said, and slammed the mouth of the canteen to her lips. She drank, holding her nose with the fingers of her free hand, and then wiped her lips. “That wasn’t so bad.”

  She dry-heaved suddenly, holding a hand to her mouth. Again. She clamped down her jaws, managing to keep the liquid down.

  “Okay, it was bad,” she said. “But I’m over it.” She put the canteen away.

  With the Eldritch blood topped up to what Malem hoped were sufficient levels in their bellies, he and the others left the hidden passage for the basement hall.

  When everyone was through, Abigail slid the secret door back into place.

  “If we need to make a hasty retreat,” she explained softly, “opening this door won’t take much work. I’d rather leave it closed, than have some wandering Eldritch notice.”

  He nodded. “Fine.” It was possible some of the Eldritch guards would make their rounds down here; just because none of them had come down yet, didn’t mean that would remain the case.

  The party made their way through the basement corridor and waited at the bottom of the stairs.

  Meanwhile, he observed the passing guards from the point of view of his new rat, and confirmed the Eldritch were sticking to the previously established patrol schedule.

  So, when the latest group of two Eldritch walked past, he dispatched the rat to the far side of the main hall, beside the stairs to the next level, and had it wait there.

  Meanwhile he and the others hurried up the steps from the basement. At the entrance to the main hall, he paused and peered past. He caught sight of the patrol that had just walked past, and they vanished around the far bend in that hall.

  He hurried toward the stairs.

  The rat confirmed that the next two guards were just starting down those very steps.

  Halfway across the hall, he and the others dove into a nearby room, just as the guards appeared at the base of the steps. They hid next to the entryway, flattening themselves against the wall on either side of the doorframe. Meanwhile, the rat cowered behind one of the banisters, out of view.

  He heard the footfalls of the guards as they slowly approached, growing in volume. And then the footsteps were right outside… and promptly began to retreat. He slumped in relief.

  He had the rat return to the base of the stairs. No further guards were coming down. He instructed the rodent to climb to the next floor.

  As those booted footsteps continued to recede, he approached the entrance and peered outside. He was able to sense the pair, which meant they weren’t mages. As soon as they rounded the bend and vanished from view, he waved the others on.

  They hurried from the room and toward the staircase, taking them two at a time. The rat confirmed the coast was clear on the next floor, and so they burst into the hallway there and took cover in a nearby room.

  The party continued in that manner, playing hide and seek with the guards. He used his beast sense, and the rat, to confirm the position of the different patrols, and they slowly made their way to the next floor.

  The rat reported two guards posted at the base of the stairs to the next level. That was a surprise.

  They discussed the situation in a room around the bend from those stairs.

  “They must have been in the middle of a shift change the last time I sent my eyes and ears this way,” Malem said.

  “Why do you keep calling it your eyes and ears?” Gwen asked. “Let’s be honest here. It’s a dirty rat.”

  He flashed a fake smile at her, then returned his attention to the others.

  “We could wait until the next shift change?” Weyanna suggested.

  “No,” Xaxia said. “Th
at could be hours.”

  “I agree,” Malem said. “The longer we stay up here, the greater our risk of discovery. No, here’s what we’re going to do.”

  After explaining the plan, Gwen, Rathamias, and Ziatrice left the room. The trio walked around the bend, in full view of the guards. Malem watched what went down from Gwen’s viewpoint.

  The two men were just turning their way when she fired several arrows in rapid succession. Those arrows hit multiple targets: throats, eyes, heart. Definitely overkill, but it was better to err on the side of caution, considering the pair hadn’t shown up on his beast sense, and he figured they were mages. He was a little worried they might raise some sort of defensive shields like Ziatrice was capable of doing, but they dropped like rag dolls.

  Ziatrice shot out her ghostly chains before the pair hit the floor and scooped them up in her dark magic, drawing them soundlessly through the air toward her. Gwen had slid her bow over her shoulder and caught one of the dead Eldritch, while Rathamias snatched the other out of the air. They dragged the bodies back into the room.

  Meanwhile, Malem sent the rat scurrying up the stairs to the next level.

  It was clear, so he and the team made a final dash to the next floor. They ran inside the first open room that presented itself, and hid while another patrol went by.

  They stealthily worked their way from room to room until they reached the bedchambers of Goldenthall’s eldest daughter. The door was broken off its hinges, courtesy of the Eldritch looters, facilitating an easy entrance. They all moved as quietly as possible, well aware of the large group of guards waiting just beyond the bend beside the room.

  Abigail led the party to the far wall. She’s behind here, she sent.

  Malem gestured toward Rathamias.

  The dark mage approached the wall with Ziatrice. The orak held out its arms, and dark magic erupted from its body in waves. The magic struck the wall, and dark veins spread across the stone, soundlessly dissolving it. In moments, a large gaping wound had appeared in the surface. Malem could see the bedchamber beyond, and the evil queen yet lying in repose upon the bed.

  Dark mist flowed from the eyes of Ziatrice as she shot out her ghostly chains, and wrapped them around the woman in the bed, who was only just beginning to stir. She tightened them, hard.

  Malem wrapped his will around the mind of his foe.

  It was time to Break another Black Sword.

  25

  Malem squeezed tightly. Mauritania resisted—but Ziatrice must have already brought her close to death, because that resistance seemed almost token. She thrashed about weakly, and Malem was certain he was about to crush her will.

  Loosen your chains! he ordered the night elf.

  But I’m only just getting started, Ziatrice complained.

  Now.

  She complied, and he felt the energy bundle strengthen beneath him, and she flailed more violently in his grasp. He squeezed tighter, but still felt he could Break her if he truly wanted. But he resisted that Breaking, suddenly worried that this was some mind trap Vorgon had planned. The Balor might have been waiting somewhere in her mind, luring him in with the promise of easy domination, only to pounce once he’d fully wrapped his will around hers.

  Yes, something seemed off about the whole situation. It seemed too easy. Mauritania should have been fighting back with everything she was worth. Sure, Ziatrice had caught her while she was still asleep, waking her to find herself locked in the grip of dark magic, but at the very least he expected her to fight back with a few magic attacks. But instead, she seemed on the verge of surrender, both physically, and mentally.

  He performed one last quick scan of her mental space, but found nothing. He decided to risk Breaking her.

  He kept his guard up as he crushed her mind with his will. She began to expand into his mental space, but he had no room for her. She required slots, then, and wasn’t half human. Too bad. He had hoped that by Breaking her, he’d gain a boost in power similar to what Ziatrice and the others granted.

  He released the rat and Eddy, expecting her to take a few mental slots, but was surprised when she required only two. That seemed a rather small amount for someone purportedly as powerful as she was: a Black Sword, once fueled by the vitality of Vorgon. Speaking of which, he still hadn’t sensed the Balor’s dark presence in or around her mind. Perhaps the Balor had abandoned her. That was the only thing that made sense at the moment. That, or—

  “Something’s very wrong,” Malem said.

  Before he could stop her, the Eldritch woman began cackling madly where she was bound by the chains on the bed.

  Malem clenched his will tightly upon her mind, cutting her off.

  “Do you have her?” Ziatrice asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  The chains fell away, and the mists cleared from the night elf’s eyes.

  Mauritania struggled on the bed, as if she wanted to speak. He allowed her into his mind instead, and invited the other women into the mental conversation.

  You idiots. I’m not Mauritania. I’m her decoy! She cackled madly in his head.

  In anger, Malem stole stamina from her, treating her like some orak on the battlefield, and drained her to the bone. He stopped himself before killing her, releasing her within an inch of her life, unable to bring himself to slay a woman of such beauty, despite the vile rottenness at her core. She dropped onto the bed, unconscious.

  Not Mauritania. Fuck.

  He re-Broke the distant ettin before it could cause trouble on the farm outside Tartan, and that weakened him because of the distance involved, but because he had previously Broken the creature, the drain wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Still, he had Broken two entities in a relatively short period of time, and that was enough of a hit on his stamina that he felt the need to borrow vitality from the other monsters.

  As he was doing that, Abigail began backing away from the opening in the wall.

  “You know, the guards outside would have heard her cackling…” Abigail warned.

  Sure enough, the door in the room next door exploded. Shards of wood spread across the adjacent bedroom; Rathamias was impaled by a piece of shrapnel, striking him just above the knee. Gwen also took a hit, but it bounced off her dragon scale armor.

  “What’s going on?” Xaxia asked.

  “It’s not Mauritania!” Gwen replied.

  Three Eldritch mages rushed inside the former king’s bedchamber. They spotted the hole in the wall immediately.

  But Ziatrice was ready. Dark mist flowed malevolently from her eyes and she thrust out her arms, striking all three with her ghostly chains. She dragged them toward her while Gwen riddled their bodies with arrows. When the trio traveled through the gap in the wall, the night elf swung Wither in a wide arc that sprayed the wall with their blood. She released the chains and momentum carried the three mages past her—or rather, what was left of them. Their severed carcasses hit the floor with sickening thuds, those child-like faces twisted in grimaces of pain.

  “You dare attack the queen of the night?” Ziatrice shouted.

  Gwen fired arrows through the gap at the next three mages that attempted to enter that room. They appeared only as green outlines—no doubt having invoked their invisibility—and must have been surprised when they realized Malem and the others could still see and target them.

  One mage went down instantly, but the two behind it survived the hits, and launched green spirals of Eldritch magic in return.

  Ziatrice stepped in front of Malem and the others, placing herself between them and the hole in the wall. The Eldritch spirals struck her invisible energy shield, causing it to flash into existence from multiple blows. He felt her stamina flagging from the effort of maintaining that shield, and he transferred stamina to her from Ophid. She threw out her arm, and sent more chains slamming into the room, but the mages dodged.

  Rathamias launched threads of dark magic, hitting one of the mages, and the creature fell with dark veins spreading across its f
ace.

  Biter in hand, Xaxia rushed to the entrance of the current bedchamber. She crouched there, peering past the broken door, ready to protect their flank.

  Two more mages—also in the form of green outlines—came into the adjacent room and released Eldritch energy. Ziatrice absorbed the impacts once again, forcing him to give her more stamina to maintain her shield.

  Malem drained stamina from Hansel and Eddy and funneled it to Weyanna and Abigail. The two women had been staying back, their festering wounds making them too weak to participate in the battle, but they straightened suddenly with newfound energy.

  Spears of ice materialized inside the adjacent room and impaled the three mages, killing them.

  Abigail stepped in front of Ziatrice and released a wall of flame that swept across the bedchamber and into the hallway beyond it, causing screams to erupt from the guards still lurking there.

  Malem reached out, looking for minds to Break, but those that he found quickly succumbed to their wounds, dying before he could take control. Not that he had the mental space in his mind for them, anyway.

  Two mages suddenly emerged from the conflagration in that doorway, stepping into the room, unharmed. They released green smears of magic at Abigail.

  Ziatrice shoved her aside and leaped into the room, taking the impacts. She swung Wither at the mages and hewed them in half.

  The clang of blades drew his attention behind him: Xaxia was locked in combat with an Eldritch wielding a trident at the entrance. The creature’s entire body appeared as a green outline, as did its blade. One of the passing patrols had noticed the commotion then, and had come to intercept them. That there was only one Eldritch meant the other had departed, likely to raise the alarm. It was troubling that Malem hadn’t detected this one with his beast sense, considering it was only an ordinary soldier. Then again, he had learned not to rely upon that sense.