The Archmage unbound m-3

by Michael G. Manning

  “If you’ve injured either of those women I will rip that head right off of your shoulders!” he growled through clenched jaws. Turning his head he addressed the two men carrying Penny and Miriam, “Put them down or I kill this bitch.” They stared at him helplessly, unsure what to do.

  Ruth glared at them while her face grew red and her eyes bulged. Her mouth gaped as she struggled to speak. Thinking she might give the order Dorian loosened his grip enough for her to breathe. “Release me fool or I’ll have them killed…,” she choked out but Dorian never gave her a chance to finish the sentence. With two long strides he lifted her up and slammed her against the stone wall.

  “Then you die first!” he roared. He was beyond madness now and the men holding Penny and Miriam began to lower their captives to the ground. Then Dorian heard strange words and a sledgehammer blow of pure force struck him behind his knees sending him to the ground again. In the course of the fall he lost his grip on Ruth’s throat, but his gauntleted hand left deep bloody gouges on her neck as she fell free and went tumbling away.

  Rolling over Dorian rose up again. The balding man, the wizard, was facing him again while Ruth choked and gasped ten feet away. Dorian leapt at him but struck an invisible shield that barred his path. Searching with his hands it seemed to block the width of the corridor. Penny and Miriam were on the other side of it… along with their enemies.

  The wizard, Walter was what Ruth had named him, smiled and began backing slowly down the hallway. Ruth was rising unsteadily to her feet, still gasping for air, and the two remaining soldiers they had brought lifted Penny and Miriam again. Desperate Dorian slammed his fist against the invisible barrier in front of him. Walter winced visibly at the force of the blow.

  Two steps and Dorian recovered his sword. He had spent enough time with Mordecai to know the effect enchanted blades could have, even on a wizard’s shield. Turning back one swing cut through whatever held him back and then the resistance was gone. Walter’s eyes grew wide in fear.

  “Run!” shouted the panicked wizard. “I can’t hold him!”

  Dorian had almost made it to the spell caster when another bolt of lightning struck and stunned him momentarily. His entire body was tingling and pain robbed him of his senses for a second, and then he began to advance again. “You’re going to regret that,” he said in an ominous tone.

  Walter stumbled back, fear written on his face. Dorian could see the front of the man’s shirt was covered in blood where the dagger had struck him earlier. In desperation the wizard uttered a sharp phrase in an unfamiliar language and Dorian braced himself, but nothing happened. With a cry he leapt forward to grab the older man, but his feet suddenly flew out from under him and he fell to strike the floor, a floor that was now as slick as ice.

  The wizard moved quickly back, following his companions, and as he went he repeated his incantation… ice now covered the floor for thirty feet between himself and the almost helpless Dorian.

  “What the hell?” Dorian shouted as he tried unsuccessfully to lever himself up onto his arms and legs again. He struggled desperately but only managed to flounder more spectacularly, his frenzy making it even more difficult to find purchase on the ice beneath him. Every second that passed Penny and Miriam were being taken further away as their attackers carried them down the hall.

  In frustration Dorian slammed the floor with his fist, sending splinters of ice flying every direction. His hand found solid purchase on the stone underneath. Inspiration struck and moments later he was beating the ice with both fists to clear the ground. Within a minute or less he was past the ice and running after them. Rounding a corner he found nothing but an empty hallway, his foes were nowhere to be seen.

  He bounded in the direction he assumed they would have gone, the stairs… still he found no sign of them. Looking back he scanned the floor and considered the doors he had passed. He could see blood on the ground, probably the wizard’s. It appeared he was losing a fair amount of blood. The blood stopped a good twenty feet from the entrance to the stairs.

  Squinting he examined the floor there, hoping to find some clue, and as he stared at the area a second spot of blood appeared, as if by magic. He glanced upward, suspecting they had somehow climbed the walls, yet he saw nothing above. Dorian took another step, getting closer to the mysterious area. He could hear someone breathing heavily… perhaps several some ones.

  Suddenly the light changed and standing before him appeared the entire group. Ruth appeared to be helping to keep the wizard on his feet. Said wizard chose then to speak, “Why the hell won’t you just give up!?” Another strange word and lightning enveloped Dorian again, sending pain shooting throughout his body. This time the surge of electricity didn’t end immediately, it continued for what seemed an eternity as the wizard focused his fear and desperation on him. “You should be dead already!” cried the man, almost sobbing with emotion.

  Yet Dorian did not fall, though smoke rose from his armor and his body had begun to shake uncontrollably. More and more the electricity seemed to be affecting him, though the armor blunted the majority of its deadly effect. Eventually it was too much, and losing his balance he collapsed onto the stone floor. His body grew still, as if after the constant spasms his muscles seemed content to rest at last. Dorian struggled to maintain consciousness.

  He could hear the woman drawing the exhausted wizard away, toward the stairs. The man seemed to have lost control of himself and was crying uncontrollably now. “Shut up you damned coward!” Ruth yelled at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’ve never killed anyone before,” the wizard answered in a voice that sounded devoid of hope.

  “Nothing’s changed then imbecile!” she shouted back at him. “He’s still breathing.”

  Their voices grew more distant as they descended the stairs and Dorian struggled to move. Though his body felt like it was made of jelly he was desperate inside. Move damnitt! Move!! he yelled inwardly at his stubborn muscles and slowly but surely his limbs began to obey him again. Several minutes passed and finally he began to drag himself forward, working his way to the stairs.

  Within five minutes he was walking, trying to navigate the steep staircase leading downward. More than once his legs gave out on him, sending him tumbling down five or ten feet before coming to a halt again, yet he refused to rest. He wanted to know why I won’t give up, he thought, recalling the wizard’s panicked question… because you have my friends.

  By the time he reached the bottom his legs had become significantly more reliable. He noted that there were still spots of blood scattered along the way, which made his task much easier. “You should get that looked at,” he said quietly to himself, thinking grimly of the wizard he had wounded. “Man could bleed to death like that.”

  He followed the path out into the castle yard; there the blood and heavy footprints of the men carrying Penny and Miriam were even easier to follow. No one along the way seemed to have seen them. “Rouse yourselves! Enemies in the keep! Close the gates!” Dorian shouted. “They’ve taken the Countess!”

  Men began running as he yelled. Guards came alive on the walls, manning the battlements and scanning the surrounding area. Others approached Dorian as he walked steadily across the yard, following the trail of blood. Questions were asked but he had no time for them. “Close the damn gates, they might still be inside!” he shouted.

  As he drew closer he could see that the trail had not yet reached the gate. They were moving slowly, invisibly, and trying to avoid detection. Yet his eyes spotted the end of the trail, and more fresh blood as they moved again. They were almost through the gate now. A large collection of guardsmen had gathered beside him now. “They’re right there, in front of the gate!” he yelled. “Fan out and search the area till you lay hands on them. They’re invisible,” he ordered and men moved to obey.

  Men looked at him oddly, as if he had gone mad. “It’s a wizard or some servant of the dark gods, with the power to render himself invisible to sight…
and they’re right there!” he shouted, pointing at the area they had to be in. As he spoke a boot print appeared on the hard packed earth, the tread of a man carrying a heavy load. Having just pointed in that direction a few of the guards saw it appear and gasps of astonishment could be heard among them.

  Dorian didn’t pause, sheathing his sword to avoid the possibility of hitting Penny or Miriam he charged toward the place where his enemies had to be standing. That was when all hell broke loose.

  A shadow fell across the earth and looking up he saw a beast straight out of myth and legend. The creature that was descending was sixty feet in length if it was an inch. Dark green scales shimmered in the afternoon sun and its wings seemed to block out the light.

  Dorian stared at it in shock. “A dragon?” he muttered disbelievingly. Cries of fear and dismay rang out as the men of Lancaster keep took shelter. Such a thing had never been seen before but they ran instinctively nonetheless. Within seconds the courtyard had cleared and Dorian was left to stand alone.

  The scaled monstrosity landed with an almost inhuman grace and delicacy, barely stirring the ground as it came to rest. Its forelegs were nearly as thick as Dorian’s chest, yet it made hardly a sound, until its mouth opened to issue a challenging roar.

  Dorian gritted his teeth as he fought against his instincts. His legs had started to shake, yet he refused to look away and somehow his sword had gotten into his hand. His mind had gone blank, but deep within he could feel the stirrings of anger and despite his fear Dorian began to walk forward. The first step was slow and hesitant, but each one that followed was firmer and surer, and in a moment he was striding boldly toward the massive beast, head up and unbowed. “I will be thrice damned before I let something like you get in my way!”

  Then the dragon drew itself up on all fours and took a deep breath, staring squarely at Dorian’s approach. He flinched and then stopped as it opened its mouth and exhaled, sending a wave of searing flames out to engulf him.

  Dorian crouched, keeping his head down and shielding his visor with his arms until the blast of fire had passed. He felt no heat from it and realized that once again his armor seemed to shield him from more than just physical blows. In fact it had worked much better against the flame than it had against the lightning. Standing again he charged forward and threw himself against the great beast, seeking to pierce its breast with his sword.

  It was a complete shock to him when he passed through the thing without the faintest resistance, as though the dragon had been conjured from nothing but smoke. Light and shadow swirled around him until he emerged from the other side. A glance backward revealed the dragon still rampaging behind him but if he had any doubts about its solidity they were dispelled as its tail swept through his chest while he watched.

  Ignoring the phantom monster behind him Dorian faced the main gate. No longer distracted by the dragon he spotted the now visible abductors passing through the open castle entrance. The portcullis was part way down but had stopped before reaching the ground, held up by some invisible force. The wizard stood next to it, red-faced and sweating. It was obvious that the strain of maintaining both the illusion and keeping the portcullis from closing had pushed him to his limit.

  Wasting no more time Dorian ran after them, toward the wizard first, he understood now the man was too dangerous to ignore. The older man watched him come, sweat running down his cheeks, as he tried to do too many things at once. He was almost under the heavy steel portcullis by the time Dorian reached him and he had already given up trying to maintain the illusion of the dragon.

  At the end, seeing he could not escape, the stranger released the barrier that was holding the portcullis and threw himself down, trying to roll under before it struck the ground. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t quite make it, and one of the massive steel spikes ripped through his right thigh, pinning him under the heavy metal.

  It also barred Dorian from pursuing the men carrying Penny and Miriam steadily away. He could see someone riding hard from the tree-line, followed by a string of horses. The abductors had obviously planned carefully, within moments they would have their targets on horseback and any chance of catching them would be much smaller.

  In a fit of rage Dorian struck at the metal bars that kept him from following. Although his sword was enchanted and razor sharp the metal was far too thick to cut through, his blade kept sticking a half an inch or so into the heavy two inch iron bar. The wizard on the ground beneath him groaned audibly. “Raise the portcullis!” Dorian screamed, but he knew it was futile. The sight of the dragon had unmanned the guards. It was doubtful anyone was within earshot to obey him anyway.

  Sheathing his sword, he eyed the iron portcullis carefully. He knew from experience that it weighed many tons. It was designed that way to enable it to be dropped quickly in time of emergency, and its weight was all that prevented an enemy from lifting it. Since the day he had received the earth bond Dorian had been aware of a noticeable increase in his strength and stamina, but this seemed far beyond possibility.

  In the distance he could see them loading Penny and Miriam onto the waiting horses. “To hell with what’s possible,” he said and crouching down he took a firm grip of the bottom of the portcullis. Drawing a deep breath he began to lift, keeping his back straight and his arms locked while his legs strained to lift him up. At first nothing happened, but while he struggled he began to hear a great thumping beneath him, like a massive heart, beating in time with his own. Give me the strength, he thought.

  Something answered his call, for he felt energy suffusing his limbs and while his face turned red and his body trembled, the portcullis began to lift. As he came up a long drawn out cry of pain and effort issued from deep within him, while the portcullis gathered upward momentum, rising faster as it approached chest height. Not daring to pause he used that momentum and centering himself under the heavy metal he thrust it upward above him.

  Time slowed for a moment as he held the massive structure above him, and by all rights the weight alone should have crushed him. Looking downward he saw the wizard watching him. “If you’re going to move, now would be a good time…” he ground out slowly between clenched teeth. Comprehension dawned on the stranger’s face and he began dragging himself out of the way… leaving a trail of blood behind him.

  Once he was clear, Dorian stepped outward and let gravity take its course and the massive portcullis slammed down behind him. He looked at the wizard lying on the ground on the other side. “Let them help you when they finally get over their fear of your ‘dragon’ and you might live. I want to talk to you when I get back,” he told him. He wasn’t sure if the fellow was still conscious but he thought he saw him nod an acknowledgement. The man was in such a bad state he might have imagined it.

  Turning away Dorian began to run toward the group of men and horses that were beginning to ride away. They were over fifty yards away and he could clearly see Penny being held in front of one of the riders. Miriam had been slung sideways over the back end of another horse. He took that as a bad sign, since in general only corpses were slung across horses like that. If she were alive the position would do nothing to keep her that way.

  Running in armor was an interesting proposition normally, something usually reserved for very short charges. In the chain mail that most men wore it was a difficult affair… the weight of the armor served as a limiting factor. In the plate armor he now wore it should have been even more awkward, not because of weight, plate actually weighed slightly less than chain, but because of the more restricted mobility the armor afforded. Yet again Mort had worked a miracle. The armor was cunningly crafted and moved very freely with his body. It still would have hindered a run, but because it worked to augment his own motions it made it feel almost as though he were running without armor at all.

  It still wasn’t perfect however, and it did slow him down more than running in normal clothes would have. Fifty yards wouldn’t have been too much for a normal charge, but the riders were now spu
rring their mounts to a canter, creating more distance between him and those he was determined to reach. Hopeless as it was he ran anyway.

  Dorian thought of nothing else besides running. He had never been a great sprinter but being tall and athletic he was no slouch either. His breath quickened as his legs drove him forward, pumping rhythmically. A minute passed and still he ran, and the riders seemed no further away than when he had started. The party ahead of him consisted of six horses bearing riders and several without a rider; those had probably been for the men he had slain. One horse carried double, having an armsman plus Penny aboard, while another carried Miriam alone slung across it like so much dead weight.

  Because of the heavy burden on the horse carrying Penny and her captor the others were forced to maintain a slower pace, and incredibly it appeared to be one he could match. He pushed himself harder, hoping to close the gap though in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder when his stamina would run out.

  Apparently his quarry had begun to wonder the same thing. Two of the riders, who had brought the horses to meet the fugitives, were looking backward with incredulous faces as they watched him run. On the face of it, it was ridiculous… a man in heavy armor could not hope to keep up with horses, even at a moderate pace such as they were riding at now, yet he was beginning to gain on them.

  Finally with a word to his fellows one of the riders turned aside and made to intercept him. Drawing his sword the man urged his mount to a full gallop, charging directly at the maniac following them. With barely forty yards between them when he turned Dorian’s opponent wasn’t able to get his horse up to full speed; not that he needed to do so.

  Dorian crossed the distance rapidly while the fellow turned his horse and prepared to ride him down. They drew together with surprising speed but Dorian never slowed, opting instead to run straight for the horse rather than try to avoid it. Seconds later the animal grew large in his view and he could see its rider leaning out to catch him in the sweep of his sword. Just before they met the horse tried to adjust its course enough to avoid a collision, but Dorian wasn’t having that and he headed straight into it.