The Archmage unbound m-3

by Michael G. Manning

  He sighed in exasperation, “Twenty I can probably handle without issue, but they have two ballistae in there!” His voice rose in pitch as he reached the end of the sentence.

  I gave him a look that clearly expressed my doubts about his manhood. “I made that armor you’re wearing, if I thought something as simple as a ballista could pierce it I’d never ask you to go.”

  “Surely you jest,” he said, staring at me in disbelief.

  I ignored him and walked back toward the men, “Someone give me a crossbow.” As luck would have it none of them were armed with one, the soldier I asked said something about them not being effective against the undead. Instead he ran off to find one in the supply wagons. Several minutes later he returned with a deadly looking weapon with a steel bow. “Load the bolt and cock it for me if you would,” I told him and he did so. Once the bolt was loaded and cocked I gave the command, “Now I’d like you to point it at Sir Harold here and shoot him.”

  “Excuse me sir?” he said, startled. Harold also jumped at my command.

  “It won’t hurt him…” I started to explain but then I gave up in exasperation. “Here give me that.” I took the weapon from his grasp and pointed it directly at Harold’s chest.

  To give him credit, even though he thought I was about to execute him he didn’t whimper or beg. “Sir I think you should reconsider,” he began.

  “Nonsense,” I replied and I started to pull the trigger, pausing only at the last second. “You there!” I shouted at a soldier standing to one side, “Better move back behind me, this bolt might ricochet.” He made haste to do as I said.

  Harold stared into my eyes. “You’re making a terrible mistake your Lordship,” he said in a very reasonable tone.

  I laughed, “Best hope I’m not Harold, because otherwise you’re out of a job.” Then I pulled the trigger and several things happened at once. The bolt itself struck him dead on at point blank range and, as I had predicted, it failed to pierce his armor. Instead it shattered into a dozen pieces. At the same time the force of the blow rocked Harold back and someone shrieked horribly.

  Nervous laughter broke out among the men as Harold straightened back up. His eyes were a bit wild around the edges from his near death experience and he kept staring down at the place where the bolt should have pierced his armor. “Holy hell!” he said softly.

  I clapped him upon his steel clad shoulder, “See there! I told you it would be fine. I tested that armor many times before I ever gave it to you after all.”

  “You could have told me that,” he suggested with an irritable tone in his voice.

  “Someone told me once that a demonstration is worth a thousand words,” I told him companionably. “Or perhaps it was pictures? I forget. I think Dorian told me that.”

  He shook his head, “I really doubt Sir Dorian said anything like that sir.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said agreeably. “By the way, why did you shriek like that at the end? You sounded like a little girl.” I probably shouldn’t have embarrassed him with a remark like that, but I was honestly surprised.

  “I think that was Walter, sir,” he replied.

  Looking around I realized Walter had taken a seat on the ground and was busily fanning his face with his hands. He looked up at me with an expression of weariness. “You are going to give me a heart attack. I am certain of it.”

  Chapter 36

  A short time later Harold prepared to enter the lion’s den, so to speak, if lions had siege weapons and absolutely no fear of death that is. We were huddled near the entrance, ready to follow him once he had disabled the ballistae, but I really didn’t think he would need our help. Unless there were surprises we hadn’t foreseen.

  “Ready?!” he asked me for the second time. Harold’s pupils were dilated and his breath was coming in short bursts. I had never doubted his bravery in any of the battles we had been in before, whether those recently or those of a few months past when Gododdin attacked us, but I worried he might die of adrenalin overdose today. I suppose a heated battle was different than being asked to charge two readied ballistae… alone.

  “Yeah, go for it,” I encouraged him.

  “Now?” he asked, just to be sure.

  “Sure, whenever you’re ready,” I said. “Go massacre them.”

  “Alright, I’m about to charge,” he informed me.

  “Godsdamnitt all go!” I yelled at him. I used my voice of command but inwardly I was chuckling at his nervousness. I needn’t have worried for he was so charged with energy he didn’t disappoint.

  Harold took off like an arrow shot from a bow. He leapt over the rock we were crouched behind and sailed a good fifteen feet into the air. Luckily the overhanging lip of the cave ceiling arrested his upward ascent or we might not have heard from him again. Obviously he hadn’t quite gotten used to the extra strength he had gained from the earth bond and his nervous enthusiasm had made matters worse. I couldn’t help but giggle.

  Thankfully he hadn’t knocked himself out. The armor was good enough that I doubted he could have killed himself unless he stood still and let them take their time figuring out how to finish him off, but there are always risks in war. He staggered upright and resumed his charge forward into the cave. At this point only a few seconds had passed and the enemy still hadn’t reacted to his sudden appearance.

  He had covered half the distance to the ballistae before he realized he had dropped his swords when he slammed into the ceiling. As strong as he was I imagined he probably could have made do with rocks or simply pulling them limb from limb, and it certainly would have had an artistic touch but he chose instead to run back for his swords.

  Walter piped up in disbelief, “What the hell is he doing?!”

  I almost collapsed I was laughing so hard at that point, “He’s running back for his swords.”

  “Why the fuck are you laughing? Are you insane?!” the older wizard yelled at me.

  I couldn’t answer; I had no air left to me by then. I pointed and tried to say, “Just look at him running,” but I couldn’t get the words out. The shiggreth had finally realized they were under attack and a massive ballistae bolt shot forth. It grazed Harold’s shoulder, knocking him down before it exploded against the rock sheltering us.

  Walter ducked down even further, “Holy shit!” he screamed as fragments of rock and wood rained down over us. “He’ll be killed!”

  I strengthened my shields and peeked back over the top of the rocks. Harold had recovered his swords and was bounding back toward the enemy. The terrain was so rough he probably would have been better off at a fast walk but he was in the throes of adrenaline induced madness now. Miraculously he didn’t fall over anything during his second charge.

  He reached the second ballista just as it fired at him. This time however he was staring it dead on and his reflexes were beyond human. Stepping right he avoided the massive bolt and bringing one of his enchanted sword blades down he sliced the front end of the massive siege weapon apart. His swing damaged the great bow and the device literally exploded as the massive bow limbs came apart with incredible force.

  The first of the two great weapons was nearly reloaded by the time he turned back toward it, but the undead creatures manning it never had a chance. Another swing of his right hand sword and that ballista also fell into ruin. After that it was simply a slaughter as he moved from place to place. Like a whirling dervish he cut the enemy into pieces. With his enhanced strength and impenetrable armor the undead really never had a chance.

  I turned to the captain leading the rest of the men in our ‘invasion’ contingent. “Wait here captain. I’ll confirm the entrance is clear before we bring the men in.” Standing up I entered the cave with my staff held out before me and my shields readied. Walter followed me in, though I hadn’t asked him to come with me.

  Harold stood panting near the remains of the siege weapons and their dismembered operators. “Don’t say anything,” he warned us as we approached.

&nbs
p; I gave him one of my winning smiles, “I wouldn’t dream of commenting.”

  “For what it’s worth I think he’s mad as a hatter,” Walter told Harold as he pointed a thumb in my direction.

  I couldn’t blame him. Recently I had begun to suspect I might be coming unhinged, and losing Penny and Dorian had only driven another nail into the coffin regarding my sanity. I wasn’t ready to admit to it yet though. “Let’s clean up the mess and we can bring in the troops. Walter, see if you can spot any more of them waiting in the tunnels further along. I’ll dispose of the bodies so they won’t have to rest in pieces.” My joke elicited a groan from both of them but I assumed it was because of their poor taste.

  Pointing my staff downward I spoke a word and began channeling a white hot flame along the length of it. Playing it back and forth I started the rather foul task of incinerating the still moving pieces of our undead foes. The stench of burning bodies was incredibly foul, but unfortunately it wasn’t a new smell for me. I had had a lot of experience with it in the aftermath of the battle with the army of Gododdin. The cremation fires then had lasted for more than a week.

  As I reached one of the bodies near the ballistae my flames took hold in an unexpected way, blazing up and filling the room with light. The floor was covered in a slick substance that burned, almost as if someone had poured out a barrel of oil. I released my spell but the fire continued to spread across the floor between both of the broken ballistae and then outward in lines, following channels carved into the floor. My eyes grew wide as I realized I had inadvertently set off a trap, just as they had known I would.

  “Get down!” I screamed at Harold and Walter as I ran toward them. Confusion was written in their faces as I reached them and they still made no move to do anything. Without time to do anything else I created a shield around the three of us and grabbed them by the shoulders. “Down!” I repeated and thankfully they knelt as I pulled downward on them.

  “What’s going on?” asked Walter, and then the world exploded. Somehow the bastards had gotten their hands on what I assumed must be quarry powder. The dark grey substance was produced by both the illuminator’s guild, which refused to share, as well as by some master stone masons, for use in quarrying rock. The damn stuff was too dangerous to use for much else, though I had heard some talk of incorporating it into siege weapons somehow.

  The end result was similar to what would have happened if I had been stupid enough to use my explosive iron spheres, in a cave, under hundreds of tons of stone. The entrance collapsed and although we were rather far back from where the explosion occurred we were struck and nearly buried by a deluge of rock and debris. The noise and vibration were incredible and went on for more than a minute after the explosion itself was done.

  When it finished we were cut off from the outside world. My shield had managed to keep us from being buried by the rock but we had several large boulders leaning across the top of it. I was forced to slowly change the size and shape of the shield to allow them to slide to one side. Once the heaviest of the rocks was off of it I was able to release my spell so we could climb out.

  Standing amidst the rubble Walter and I surveyed the tons of stone blocking our way out. “That’s a lot of rock,” I observed.

  “It will take forever to get past that, assuming the rest of the ceiling doesn’t come down if we try to dig out,” Walter added.

  Harold spoke up, “I wouldn’t mind some light. It’s pitch black in here.”

  Once again I had forgotten that not everyone could see in the dark. It was easier to do with Walter around, since he shared my sensory abilities. “Lyet,” I said softly, and a bright light began to emanate from the head of my staff. “Is that better?”

  Sir Harold looked around, slowly taking in the scenery, rock, stone and more rock. He whistled, “I do hope you have another trick up your sleeve, your Excellency.”

  As it so happened I did have options. One would be to create a teleportation circle that could take us to one of my circles in either Cameron or Lancaster and another would be to attempt simply walking through the stone itself. I wasn’t sure if I could manage that with two people, it had been difficult enough with Rose, but I could surely take them one at a time. “I can get us out,” I said confidently, “but first I would like to see what else there is down here.”

  Walter groaned, “I had a feeling you might say that.”

  We spent several minutes getting a better feel for the layout of the tunnels around us and making sure there were no more of the shiggreth nearby. It appeared that although the caverns branched in several places the offshoots rejoined the main tunnel deeper into the hills. In essence, although it was confusing there weren’t too many places to explore along the way.

  After a few hundred yards we sensed more of the shiggreth though. Naturally it was Walter that spotted them first, “There are several hundred in the large cavern ahead,” he informed me.

  By focusing more carefully I was able to see them as well. The large cavern they occupied was fairly level and had a smooth floor. Compared to the rest of the cave system it definitely gave the impression of having been altered to better accommodate human forms. I looked at my two companions, “I don’t really fancy trying to burn them all to ash.”

  Their reactions were priceless. Walter’s eyes bulged as though they might try to escape his head, “But you considered it?” he asked incredulously.

  Harold took an entirely different view. Now that he had survived the ballistae he was feeling decidedly more invulnerable. “Perhaps I could manage them…”

  “Twenty or thirty perhaps, but more than that I doubt, remember Dorian,” I reminded him.

  “So you do want to burn them?” Harold replied.

  “Oh I’d like to certainly,” I answered, “but I worry that using too much fire down here would exhaust the limited supply of fresh air.” I had not forgotten using a flash fire to first burn and then suffocate Devon Tremont almost two years ago.

  A loud sigh escaped Walter’s lips. “Look I hate to be the one to suggest anything to either of you suicidal maniacs but I might have a better idea,” he said suddenly.

  I looked at him with interest. “I am open to any suggestions.”

  “Why don’t we just walk through them? Our conversation earlier has gotten me thinking I can probably hide all three of us from their senses. We can just walk through them and scout the tunnels beyond. If we don’t find anything significant, or any means of escape we could simply leave them down here to rot,” he explained.

  Walter was an easy man to overlook but his idea was the most reasonable thing I’d heard all day. I wondered if I had underestimated his intelligence. “I like the sound of that,” I replied.

  Harold wasn’t so easily convinced. “You aren’t serious are you?” he asked.

  Walter nodded and I spoke up, “It sounds worse than it is. There is another tunnel leading away on the far side of this cavern and it appears to be empty. They aren’t very tightly packed in there, so if Walter can do as he says we can just walk right past them and see what’s down there.”

  Walter’s plan turned out to be more complicated than I had at first realized. We stood close together and joined hands while the older wizard cast his spell. In order to keep us from being visible to the shiggreth he made us invisible to both magic and visible sight, which had the unfortunate side effect of rendering us completely blind. There was no way we could navigate through a crowd like that.

  “I don’t think I thought this through completely,” Walter amended. “Perhaps if we are just invisible to magic and you douse your light Mordecai.”

  That turned out to be just as bad. Without my light the cavern was pitch black and we were just as blind as before. That’s when I had my epiphany. “I think I know why they don’t come out during the daytime very often,” I said.

  “What?” asked Walter.

  “The shiggreth,” I explained, “in the past they have almost always attacked or been encountered when
it is dark. In fact, the only time that I know of them ever appearing during daylight hours was when they ambushed Dorian and Penny.”

  Harold was more familiar with the shiggreth but he still didn’t understand. “I don’t see how that tells you anything specific.”

  I held up my hand. “Let me finish,” I told him. “We know they don’t have an issue with daylight because they have come out during the day at least once. So why would they generally avoid moving about during the daytime?”

  “Because they’re creatures of darkness?” said Harold, as if that were reason enough.

  “No,” I admonished him, “because they don’t use light to see, they use magic. In fact their dead eyes are probably blind to light entirely. They don’t avoid daylight, they simply prefer the nighttime because they have an inherent advantage then, because they can see and most humans can’t.”

  “You still haven’t made it clear how that helps us,” he insisted.

  Walter understood though and he began nodding his head rapidly in agreement. “Of course! Keep your staff lit, I’ll hide us from magical sight but leave us visible to normal light.”

  “Will the magic in my staff be a problem?” I asked.

  “No,” Walter replied, “I can cloak the magic there as easily as that which emanates from our bodies. I just have to let the light pass unimpeded.”

  Despite being fairly sure we were right those first few moments as we stepped into the open were nerve wracking. I walked in the front holding my staff up to light the way while Walter followed with his hand on my shoulder; Harold followed him in a similar fashion. The experience was surreal, especially since I had never walked invisibly through a room full of people before, much less a room full of undead life draining monsters. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe.

  The floor was smooth and free of obstacles but it still took us almost ten minutes to cross the large cavern and reach the other side. Along the way I stared at the faces of the shiggreth, wondering what they thought, or even if they thought. They stood quietly for the most part, not walking or talking to each other, yet they whispered softly to themselves, filling the vaulted spaces with an endless susurration, a sound similar to wind through the leaves of a forest.