by Ben Myatt
She frowned, trying to think of the best way to explain a ward spell to the two soldiers.
“It's like sandbags at the edge of a trench.” She said slowly. “The three of us built a defensive wall up to keep them out, but we can't hold it together indefinitely.” She smiled wryly. “It drains us, you see. We're channeling the energy through ourselves, and there's only so long you can do that for.”
“I imagine so. How well will it hold up to attack?”
She bit her lip.
“I don't know. It took all three of us to fight the sergeant off last time. It depends what he tries and how well we can react to it.”
Mortimer and Ward shared a look, and sat down against the inside of the parapet.
“If you can't hold them, then we need to have a plan in place.” Mortimer said. “Do you have to keep your spell solid, or can you open holes in it?”
Elizabeth looked doubtful.
“I probably can, but I don't know how long I can hold it steady. If you open a hole in a ward, it starts degrading outwards. It'll get wider the longer it's open.”
Ward nodded.
“That shouldn't be a problem miss. If all those bastards are pouring through one hole, we'll be able to tear them to shreds.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded.
“I'll speak to Callum and Nathaniel. Maybe they can make it a bit more workable.”
***
They moved deeper into the bowels of the fortress, their footsteps echoing in the dusty air. The seeker spell danced ahead of them, eagerly beckoning them forward. After what seemed an age, they stopped in front of a massive iron door, it's surface rusted and pitted.
“This has been here a long time.” Callum murmured. He reached out and laid his hand on the surface of the metal. A slight tingle, like the lightest of electric currents, buzzed through his hands. He frowned, and brushed away the deep layers of grime that coated the door.
“They bound the door in silver.” He said flatly.
“So?” Carlisle asked. “I know it's expensive, but there are a lot of these ornamental doors around the country.”
“There are a few things that beings of magic are affected by. Silver is one of them.” Nathaniel said. “If they bound this door in silver, it means they were trying to keep something in.”
Callum pulled the door open. It was easily six inches thick. Silver, streaked with black tarnishes, was wrapped around the whole of the iron frame.
“Something dangerous.” He said quietly.
Chapter Five.
The three men stared into the gloom beyond the iron door, and, as one, drew their revolvers. Callum wished fervently that he'd followed Jim Ashwood's lead and packed a supply of silver bullets for this trip. As it was, lead would have to suffice. He took a deep breath, and concentrated, allowing the flame he'd made to hover in the air away from him. He glanced at Nathaniel.
“Ready?”
“As I'll ever be.”
“Alright, stay close.”
The seeker orb eagerly flicked around the chamber, darting into the nooks and crannies. From the light of his flame, Callum could see a massive stone block sitting in the centre of the room, steps leading from the floor to it's surface.
“Well, that doesn't look ominous at all.” Nathaniel muttered. Callum shot him a glance.
“Be careful. I've got a bad feeling about this place.”
“I'd be shocked if you didn't.”
The three men moved carefully forwards, their weapons sweeping through the darkness. Carefully, they ascended the steps.
“What is it, Callum?” Carlisle asked, his eyes still focused on the shadows that danced at the edge of the room.”
“It's a sarcophagus.” He glanced around. “This is a sepulchre.”
He looked up at the ceiling, and squinted. Suddenly he tossed the floating fireball upwards.
A hanging lantern burst into flame at the top of the room, spilling light out into the corners of the burial chamber. The stone sarcophagus sat on the altar, ominously inviting them to open it.
“Well, gentlemen, we won't solve anything standing here.” Callum said. He placed his hands on the side of the tomb’s lid, and pushed. With a grating sound, the lid shifted aside, then clattered to the floor. A warm glow filled the room, emanating from the coffin. Callum drew a startled breath through gritted teeth.
“Well that answers what they're coming after.” he said quietly, his eyes wide.
A gem sat on the chest of the skeleton in the coffin, glowing with a pale white light.
“What is it?” Carlisle breathed.
“It's a void stone.” Nathaniel responded.
***
Out on the plain, the heat haze began to shimmer once more. Dunwit snapped upright, and unshouldered his rifle, pushing a shell into the breach.
“Ring the bell will you, Miss? Looks like we might have company for tea.” He said calmly.
Elizabeth sprinted to the great bell, and seized it's rope clapper. Swinging it as hard as she could, she set the bell to ringing, summoning the soldiers to battle.
To the surprise of none, Ward and Mortimer were the first to the wall. The two sergeants stood together, their rifles on the battlement in front of them. Ward glanced round at the troops as they spread out, their guns ready to face the enemy.
“Alright lads, you know what to do. We're going to put some lead in these bastards, you hear me?”
In the dusty scrubland, the phantom redcoats began to march, their ranks steadily moving towards the fortress walls. They stopped at the line in the dirt that marked the steady pressure of the ward spell.
The Sergeant stepped forward, and raised his hands. Elizabeth prepared herself.
“Ready arms!” Mortimer yelled. Along the battlements the British soldiers aimed down the sights of their rifles, picking their targets in the mass of redcoats.
“Alright, Miss Elizabeth, whenever you're ready.”
She ignored him, and waited, holding her breath. She could feel the power building in the Sergeant's hands, the buzz of magical energy he would use to breach her barrier.
She felt the pulse begin just moments before he released it, and allowed the ward to take the brunt of the damage. Concentrating, she moulded the power, transforming it into a tunnel, a hole in the barrier that would allow their enemies through.
The red-coated Sergeant roared his triumph, and started to lead his regiment towards the fortress. On the battlements, Ward grinned.
“Stupid buggers, aren't they? Alright lads, give 'em what they came for!”
The air came alive with the sound of gunfire as the two-hundred survivors launched their counter-attack.
***
In the bowels of the fortress, Nathaniel and Callum felt the hole in the ward open. They glanced at each other, silent communication passing between them, and then Callum took off at a sprint for the door.
“What's going on?” Carlisle asked.
“The battles started. Elizabeth is trying to funnel the redcoats through a narrow gap.”
“That'll be Ward's idea. He's used that tactic before.”
Nathaniel shrugged, and turned back to his study of the jewel in the coffin. Carlisle reached out for it.
“No point leaving it here...”
“Don't touch it!”
The Lieutenant's hand froze in mid air. Nathaniel gently pulled him away from the void stone.
“The void stones are artefacts of pure energy, Carlisle. If you picked it up, there's every chance you'd burn out of your own skin.”
“Probably best to leave it here then?”
“Definitely. When we've figured out how to stop these attacks, I'll send a message to the guild to come and collect it.”
Carlisle shot a glance back at the jewel as they headed for the door.
“I think that might be a good idea.”
***
As Callum sprinted into the courtyard, the sound of rifle fire greeted him, a constant crackle of leaden death.
He ran for the stairs to the battlements, and took them two at a time.
Despite the withering fire from the British rifles, the redcoats were starting to break through. The Sergeant, his face a mask of fury, roared them on with incoherent yells.
Elizabeth worked the lever on her carbine, and re-sighted. She fired, missed, and reloaded. Maintaining the ward was beginning to sap her, it's demands on her energy distracting from the rigours of combat. The phantom redcoats formed two ranks in front of the fort, and levelled their muskets.
“Everybody down!” Ward yelled, his command repeated along the length of the wall.
Elizabeth ducked behind the parapet as the coughing belches of the phantom regiment’s weapons rippled across the plain. She felt the ripple of air as the volley passed over their heads, and glanced around the gap in the battlements.
The second ranks of the redcoats were taking aim, the first ranks reloading. She glanced over at Ward.
“What do we do?”
“Nothing we can do. They'll pelt us for a wee while, and then we'll take our shots. Whittle them down.”
“But they'll just whittle us down as well – and I've got a horrible feeling they'll have more men the next time around.”
The Welsh sergeant cast her a questioning look. She glanced at the stairs as Callum popped up, and sat down out of view of the enemy soldiers.
“I've got a bit of a theory.” She said slowly. “I think that what that Sergeant out there is doing is summoning the souls of dead soldiers to fight for him. He'll have reserves of them.”
“How big a reserve?” Mortimer asked darkly.
“How long has mankind been fighting wars?” Callum asked.
The two commanders were silent as the implications of that sunk in.
“I think we might be in trouble.” Mortimer said.
“I thought we already knew that.” Ward retorted
“That Sergeant is the key.” Elizabeth said. “If we can find a way to stop him, we should be able to banish the captured souls.”
“I'm open to suggestions.” Callum said. “I'm not overly fond of the idea of being stuck here fighting every soldier that ever lived.”
The musket fire on the other side of the wall began to tail off as the British soldiers crouched behind their defences. Callum stood, and peeked over the edge of the battlements.
The redcoats stood silently, their weapons lowered. The ranks of dead soldiers stared ahead, their eyes unseeing as their Sergeant stepped forward.
The Dragon-blood and the Red-coated Sergeant stared at each other across the empty space between them, their eyes locking in silent acknowledgement of the conflict to come.
The Sergeant drew an evil-looking serrated sword from his belt, and levelled it in Callum's direction. He drew is own sabre and returned the gesture, his eyes flickering with inner fire. Without breaking his gaze, the Sergeant sheathed his sword, and then he, and his troops, vanished.
No cheers sounded along the battlements, no sense of relief moved through the troops. They had seen the gesture the demonic Sergeant had made, and they knew that there would be no surrender, no quarter given, and no chance of retreat or escape.
This was a fight to the bitter end, one way or the other.
Callum sheathed his sabre, and sat down on the top of the stairs, his eyes haunted.
“They're not going to stop, are they?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. Not until they've got what they came for.”
“And what is that exactly?” Mortimer asked.
Callum sighed.
“Behind this fortress, theres am old tomb. Whoever lies there was buried with something called a void stone.” He ignored the hissed intake of Elizabeth's breath, and continued. “It's a source of tremendous power – the power to create worlds.” He stared off into the distance. “...Or destroy them.”
He got slowly to his feet, and helped Elizabeth up.
“Let's go talk to Nathaniel. We need to figure out our next move.”
***
They found Nathaniel and Carlisle in the officers mess, their eyes hidden by the shadows as the sun retreated behind the horizon.
“Any casualties?” the Lieutenant asked Ward.
“None sir. This time.” The Welshman responded. His usual good humour had faded with Callum's pronouncements, his eyes tinged red with irritation from the gunsmoke out on the battlefield. He took off his helmet, and ran his fingers through his grey hair, dust falling to the floor.
“You know, I'm starting to feel too old for this.” he murmured.
Callum sat heavily across from Nathaniel.
“We can't hold out. He's just going to keep throwing troops at us until there's nothing left.”
“So what about this void stone? What if we give him what he wants?” Carlisle asked.
“Sir!” Ward objected his face appalled. Carlisle held up a mollifying hand.
“I'm asking so that we know fully what we're getting into, sergeant. It seems our superiors have been less than forthcoming in that respect.”
Nathaniel rolled his head on his neck, trying to shake the tiredness from his skull.
“I'm sorry, Carlisle, but we didn't really know what we were facing until we got here, either.” He scowled. “I certainly wasn't expecting a void stone. That changes the game.”
“You might not have, but I suspect Clarence did.” Callum said darkly. Nathaniel gave him a piercing look, then shrugged.
“You're probably right. Clarence knows a lot of things – and keeps a lot of them to himself. But at the moment, that's neither here nor there.” He looked around the table at the assembly.
“If that sergeant gets its hands on the void stone, it'll have access to unlimited power. We can't allow that to happen. Our role here is clear. We must protect to our dying breath.”
“Nathaniel...” Elizabeth began.
“I won't brook any argument Elizabeth.”
“You can't demand this of them!” Callum said. “You can't demand they die for the sake of that bloody stone!”
Nathaniel rounded on him.
“Then what would you have me do Callum? If that thing out there gets it's hands on the stone, then it could destroy the world!” He looked at Carlisle. “That's what it is, Lieutenant. It's the key to destroying the world. It's ultimate power.”
“Then we stay.” Carlisle said.
“Sir...” Ward began.
“That's an order Sergeant.”
“Wait.” Callum said, his mind racing.
“Callum, Nathaniel's right.” Elizabeth said.
“I know, but... We can have our cake and eat it too.” Callum said.
Nathaniel stared at him for a moment. Carlisle moved to speak, but the lead agent waved him to silence. Callum's eyes were moving back and forth rapidly, as if reading a book the other couldn't see. Finally, his eyes snapped up, focusing on his colleagues.
“I've got a plan.”
***
A hundred and fifty men lined up by the gates of the fort, their rifles slung over their shoulders. Fifty stood on the walls, the chosen few who had elected to remain and fight.
Carlisle strode in front of the assembled troops and saluted. Smartly, as one, the men returned the gesture.
“Men, you have your orders. Your job is to get word back to Bombay as quickly as possible, and get reinforcements to return here. Once you leave the fort, split into groups and head out to the nearest forts – we'll try and be here when you get back.”
Sergeant Mortimer stood by the door, his face a mask. He'd not been impressed when Carlisle had told him that he would be one of the men leaving. He'd fought for Kasharim from the very beginning, and he'd wanted to be there at the end.
Carlisle had decided to send him before he'd looked at anyone else. He'd seen the madness that was starting to creep into the man's eyes, the desperation of a dead man walking. If he'd allowed Mortimer to stay, Mortimer would have died – no matter the outcome.
“Please don't make me d
o this, sir.” The sergeant said quietly as the lieutenant approached. Carlisle looked at him with sympathy, then steeled his heart.
“You have your orders, Sergeant. You are relieved.”
Mortimer's brown eyes went cold, and he snapped off a stiffly formal salute.
“I stand relieved, Sir.”
He turned away, and signalled to the men at the gate. They pulled the barring beam free, and pulled the gates open. The hundred and fifty men of the British army marched out onto the plain, and headed for the hills.
Callum and Nathaniel walked to stand beside the lieutenant.
“This is the right thing to do.” Callum said.
“I know. But this is a dangerous position Callum. We can't hold this fortress.”
Callum grinned at him.
“I don't intend to hold it.”
***
Elizabeth and Ward glanced at the far right end of the wall, their rifles ready and loaded. She glanced across at the far left, and waved. Callum crouched next to Corporal Dunwit.
“So, you think this is going to work?” Ward said.
“I have no idea. But I know that standing on these walls trying to fight all those buggers off wasn't getting us anywhere.”
She laid her hand on the stone of the wall, and focused. Reaching out, she joined her mind with Nathaniel's and Callum's, communicating across the distance.
“Are you really sure this is a good idea?” Nathaniel asked.
“Of course I'm not.” Callum replied.
“Oh, that just fills me with confidence Callum.”
Nevertheless, she felt them start to push energy into the stones of the wall.
“How's it holding, Elizabeth?” Nathaniel asked.
“It's keeping together. We should be able to take a bit more.”
She felt them oblige, filling the stones with raw magical power. As she reinforced the barrier against the rear of the wall, she felt the energy strain against it.
“A little more... There!” She carefully disengaged her mind from the work at hand, allowing the barrier ward to take the weight of the magically charged stones in front.
“Will it hold?” Callum asked, walking over from his end of the wall.
“You'd better hope so.” She snapped. “This is an awfully big risk.”