The Pilgrim Stone

by J D Bowens

  Consus clapped Ewan and Kyran on the shoulders. Kyran looked at Leiwyn as she walked by. “We’ll meet you back in the prison,” he said to her. “You take care of him this time.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Consus said. He and the elves walked up the stairs until they were out of view of the landing.

  Half a breath later Consus heard two men scream, their voices echoing through the stairwell.

  “Come for me, you clumsy cows,” Ewan taunted.

  “Intruders!” someone cried. Boots stomped against the stone as guards gave chase. The footfalls and yells disappeared down the stairwell, away from Consus.

  Consus, Karinne, and Leiwyn hurried down the stairs and made their way across the empty veranda. Consus stepped over a corpse with an arrow in its chest. “How much further?” he asked Leiwyn.

  She paused at a hallway that turned and stretched deeper into the keep. “This way.”

  They followed her down the torch lit corridor. Leiwyn and Karinne stopped just before another hall on their right. Karinne grabbed Consus’ shoulder to stop him. “I hear someone approaching,” she said. “Sounds like more soldiers.”

  Consus heard them moments later. Karinne pushed past him and Leiwyn to the very corner of the hall. She lay her back flat against the wall and hid in a shadow.

  Soldiers rounded the corner just as Karinne stepped forward in a low crouch. She sliced her blade up into one man’s gut and chest. Muscle and bone split apart as the blade reached his neck. He fell to the ground in a gurgled cry and the torch he carried clattered to the ground.

  Karinne spun around and cut off another man’s leg as he reached for his sword. She spun once more and lunged at the remaining opponent, thrusting her sword through his heart and out his back. She tugged the blade out as the body collapsed to the ground.

  The surviving soldier lay on the ground screaming and holding his stump leg. Consus whacked his staff against the man’s skull to silence him. "That will have alerted them; the whole keep should be awake soon.

  Karinne wiped the blood from her sword before sheathing it. “So much for the element of surprise.”

  Consus ignored her. “Leiwyn, how far are we from the Stone?"

  "Just further ahead," she replied. “But it is moving now.”

  Chapter 50

  I must warn Mistress Zamari. Synara sprinted down the hall, her dress fluttering about. A clamor of guards rushed past her. A guard bumped into her, and she stumbled into the wall. She waited for the remaining guards to pass by, their faces grim and stiff jawed.

  She knew the keep was under attack, but by whom? Is it the mages? she wondered. Have they come for the Crimson Throne?

  “Keep on, men,” one soldier barked to the others. “They spotted two men and a halfling in one of the towers.”

  His brothers, she realized thinking of Consus. They’ve come for him. She ran faster until she reached the thick wooden door that belonged to Zamari’s chambers.

  Her heels screeched to a halt before she thumped her fist against the door. Zamari answered the door in her full n’moc dress. She fashioned her hair into a bun as Synara dipped to a quick bow. "What is the cause for this unwarranted disruption?"

  "Mistress Zamari, there are intruders within the keep,” Synara said. “They’ve killed several guards already."

  Zamari scoffed. "Dromedus has already sent me word of that,” she spat. “Besides, I can feel them, the elf, coming to me. Have the guards retrieve the boy before she does.”

  “That is just it, mistress,” Synara said. “He’s already escaped. They found the jailkeeper dead and the cell empty.”

  Zamari’s face flushed like a red flame. “I was hoping to use him,” she said. “But if I can’t control him, I may be able to pull that Blessing from him.”

  “Mistress, I think they are here for the Pilgrim Stone,” Synara said. “Shouldn’t we hide it somewhere secure?”

  “Of course, they are here for the stone,” Zamari said. “And we will not run from them. We shall prepare to fight.” She walked to a chest in her room and returned with the Pilgrim Stone in hand. They left Zamari’s quarters and headed to a flight of stairs. Dromedus descended the stairs and paused to salute Zamari with a fist over his heart.

  “Where are you going, my paladin?” she asked.

  “M’lady, I am seeing to the men in the tower,” he replied. “I’ve heard there may be an elf nearby. I can keep a number of men here to protect you.”

  She waved away his offer. “No, I will not need their help,” she replied. “Nemoth’s shadow will protect me. The men are probably Consus’ brothers. Capture them and bring them to the courtyard. Have Brother Tauric help you. I want to surprise Consus.”

  A flicker of violent glee appeared in his eyes, and a terrifying smile appeared on the once measured captain’s face. “With enthusiasm, Mistress,” he said. “I look forward to testing this ‘immortality.’”

  Zamari gave him a stern look. “I want them alive.” Dromedus nodded, and the fire in his eye was gone. He bounded down the hall.

  What has happened to him? Synara wondered. She did not recall him being very bloodthirsty before. Has Zamari’s spell changed him?

  “Come, let us proceed to the height of the keep,” Zamari said to her. “It is time to let my children fly.”

  Chapter 51

  “Come on, Ewan. Keep up,” Kyran said. He careened down the stairs, the halfling running just ahead of him.

  Ewan yelled from behind. “I thought you said there were eight guards. I count closer to twenty.”

  Kyran dared not look behind him. More must have joined while we’ve been running down this tower, he realized.

  He passed yet another landing and archway. Guards emerged from an adjacent hallway and ran into the tower after them. Kyran slashed his sword at the nearest soldier without stopping. The soldier dodged backwards, and the sword missed its mark.

  Ewan whacked the back of another soldier’s knee as he ran past. Kyran could hear the man trip and fall as several of their pursuers tripped over his body.

  “Good work, Ewan,” Milo laughed. They came to another landing and a closed door. Milo threw himself against it. The door squeaked open, and Milo called to them over his shoulder. “Quickly, this way!”

  Kyran followed him into a large hall with black marble pillars. He paused at the ivory throne on the large dais. “This is not the best place for a fight,” Kyran said. The large open floor plan made it hard for the three of them to control the fight. We’ll be surrounded in a heartbeat. We need a way to bottleneck the enemy.

  “Not a fight,” Milo said, “but a good place to hide.” He turned around and ran back to the door to the tower. Ewan tripped over him as he did.

  “What are you doing?” Ewan growled.

  Kyran watched as the halfling ignored him and pulled a large tube of blasting powder from his pack. He cut the wick and lit it with his flint and steel.

  “By holy thunder,” Kyran said. He snatched Ewan and ducked behind a large marble pillar on the other end of the room.

  Milo closed the door and placed the cylinder by the entrance. He ran for cover behind a pillar opposite the brothers.

  Kyran, unable to resist, peaked his head out around the pillar to see the first of their pursuers burst into the throne room. Several more guards appeared through the doorway. “Where’d those brigands go?” one asked.

  Boom

  A fiery explosion filled the room with a powerful force of wind. The flames leapt forward and licked the stones under Kyran’s feet. The bodies of soldiers, separated limbs, and debris flew past, and the ground beneath them vibrated. The fire disappeared with the gust of wind and was replaced with dust and smoke.

  Kyran coughed several times before he could speak. “Milo, are you alright?”

  Tiny coughs came from the nearby pillar. “Yes, I’m fine, limbs and all.”

  Kyran looked out from behind the pillar and could see a gaping hole in the wall. The doorway to the towe
r was now a gaping crater. Bodies of soldiers littered the wreckage, bloody and still. “It’s not safe for us to stay here. There will soon be more soldiers.”

  Ewan coughed as he rose from the ground. “After a blast like that, there won’t be a safe place in this whole damned keep.”

  “Yeah, but we have to distract them so Consus and the elves can get to the Stone. How many guards do you think Grimhold has in his service?”

  Ewan considered a moment. “Eighty or so?”

  Kyran brushed a bit of the rubble and dust from his coat. Ewan’s counting is worse than mine. “Well, I suppose there could be sixty left. We’ve faced greater odds, right?”

  “The odds are just not in your favor," an unfamiliar voice said.

  Kyran looked behind him to the entrance of the throne room. The large doors were open to a man only a few years older than himself. He was clothed in black armor and the symbol of the house Grimhold on the cuirass. A confident hand rested on the pommel of a greatsword at his side. Twenty men filed into the room on either side of Kyran and Ewan.

  "Lord Grimhold, I presume,” Kyran said. He gave a mock bow in defiance.

  The bearded man sneered. "Nobility would never lower itself to deal with such a waste as yourselves. I am Dromedus, Commander of the Maerstone. You will drop your weapons and follow us."

  "I don’t take orders from rich men or their dogs." Kyran said.

  The soldiers stepped forward in unison, but Dromedus paused them. “Hold a moment,” he said with a wicked toothy smile. “I’d like to teach this cur its place.” He pulled his sword from its sheath, a large two-handed blade.

  Kyran eyed the man’s footing and his tight measured grasp of the sword. He looks confident and well-trained. Only one way to find out.

  Kyran lunged forward and tested his opponent with the twin blades. Dromedus deflected the two swords together with one parry. Kyran slashed again with his left blade and then his right blade. They were slapped away like flies. Dromedus took a sudden step and spun forward with the greatsword, whistling through the air. Kyran danced backwards and felt it cut through the air. The tip of it narrowly missed his abdomen.

  Damn him. He’s got reach and strength on his side. He took on a defensive stance as Dromedus spun forward once more. Their blades collided and Kyran put all his weight into his swords. I’m still a little faster with two blades.

  Kyran slipped back and to the side, away from Dromedus. The commander’s greatsword cut into the stone and sprayed sparks at his feet. Kyran pounced and hacked at his vulnerable side. Dromedus was quick to turn and parry, but he was now on the defensive. Kyran nipped and pecked at him with both swords, his blades just inches from the commander.

  Kyran’s whirlwind assault did little to throw Dromedus off balance though. His footing remained steady, and that wicked grin never faded.

  His defense is strong, Kyran realized. He needed to get closer to Dromedus. He needed to let his opponent attack him. “Not bad for a dog,” he said. He thrust his left blade at Dromedus’ chest.

  Dromedus dodged to the side, and Kyran passed him by, his back vulnerable to the greatsword. The great blade sliced through the air in a horizontal arc. Fleet footed, Kyran whipped around, bringing up both blades. He steadied his footing as their blades clashed. The force of the blow pushed him back, and Kyran was forced into a more defensive stance.

  Dromedus delivered blow after solid blow. Kyran ducked and avoided when he could, and parried with both blades when he had to. He let Dromedus inch himself closer with each attack. This will be a risky move.

  The commander spun around with the great blade again, cutting in a horizontal arc. Kyran danced forward into the cut rather than leaping back. He spun himself and tried to match the momentum of the sword. He parried the blow with one sword and sliced into Dromedus’ arm with the other.

  Kyran heard the commander cry out. His great blade clattered to the ground. Several men stepped forward, and Kyran stopped moving.

  “Stay back,” Dromedus barked. The soldiers did not move. Kyran looked at the wounded commander. He held his arm against his side. It was almost severed completely, only a few tendons and muscles holding it in place. Blood gushed out as the commander fell to one knee.

  Kyran knew there was no way he or Ewan would be escaping. At least I will have taken one of these bastards with me.

  The blood flowing down Dromedus’ arm slowed to a trickle and stopped. Kyran watched with dread as the muscle stretched from both ends of the wound to reconnect itself. The skin grew back and covered up. Not even a scar remained. He watched the commander rise from the floor, the wicked grin returned.

  “Let’s try that again,” Dromedus said collecting his sword.

  Kyran tightened his grip on the swords. “Nice trick,” he said. “Does your head do that too?”

  “Stop, Captain,” came a voice. A thin man in black robes emerged from the surrounding soldiers. “Zamari wants them alive, does she not?” he asked. Dromedus glared at Kyran but nodded and lowered his blade.

  “Yes, Brother Tauric,” Dromedus said. “Do what you are here for.”

  Kyran noticed that the soldiers who surrounded him avoided looking directly at Tauric. They had either closed their eyes or turned their heads in the opposite direction. The thin man turned and gazed at Kyran. His deep-set eyes glowed red, and Kyran could not turn away from them.

  He wanted to tell Ewan and Milo to look away or to run. Wordless grunts were all he could manage. He was paralyzed, unable to escape, fight, or even warn them. What sort of spell is this? he wondered.

  "Drop your weapons," Tauric whispered. Kyran noticed the swords in his hands were heavier. His grip loosened so that the blade pointed down yet he resisted the urge to let them go. "I said ‘drop your swords.’"

  CLANG

  I need to pick up my swords. Kyran tried to look away from the strange man, but there was something so calm about his gaze. He was drawn to the peaceful red light that emanated from his eyes. There was nothing to fight. I should just cooperate.

  “Yes, cooperate,” Tauric said. “Everything is much easier when you listen to my voice.”

  Chapter 52

  Where in the hells are we? Consus had never been this far up in the keep. He tried to remember the pathway as they ran. They would need a way to escape.

  “What was that blast we heard?” Karinne asked.

  “I’d rather not think about it right now,” he said. He followed after Leiwyn and climbed another flight of stairs and ran down a long corridor.

  “Turn here,” Leiwyn said. They turned with the wide corridor and saw several guards at the other end, their crossbows aimed at him.

  Consus dropped his staff to the ground and cast a spell for a ward before he could think. A translucent blue light erupted from his hands and covered the width of the hall. A terrible pain returned to his arms, as though they were being crushed by the coil of the snakes — this damned spell. The bolts bounced off the light and ricocheted into the wall. He kept his arms up. Mind over heart, Mind over body.

  The soldiers reloaded their crossbows and Consus dropped the ward. He shot a bolt of light from his hands. It flew down the corridor and licked the walls, charring the stone. When it dimmed, the men had been reduced to ash.

  Consus dropped his arms to his sides and fell to his knees. My counter spell seems to only keep the pain from spreading, he realized. The pain still lingered even though he’d stopped casting magic. I can manage this. Four more guards rushed down the stairs.

  A bolt of light shot passed him and struck the oncoming soldiers. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "What is wrong?" Leiwyn asked.

  “These snakes are a curse,” Consus said. “Every time I cast a spell it hurts.”

  Leiwyn grasped his forearm. She yelped and let go and shook her hand in the air. Consus could see that the flesh of her palm was red and burned. He looked at his arms and saw that the snakes had begun to smolder. Waves of heat and steam rose from his arms.

&nbs
p; "You should stay here,” Leiwyn said.

  “No, there is only one way to get these things off me,” he said. He picked up his staff and rose from the ground.

  "You’ll slow us down," Karinne said. “We may be better if you stay-”

  "I’ll be fine,” he barked. “I can more than keep up. How much further from here?"

  "Up the stairs. The Stone is no longer moving,” Leiwyn said. “They must be waiting for us." She walked down the hall like a wary cat; her eyes fixed on the staircase.

  Consus followed her, Karinne at his side. He sensed Leiwyn casting a ward over the three of them as they climbed the stairs. He walked out onto the top of the keep, the night air cold against his bare shoulders.

  The moon and stars illuminated their surroundings. The surrounding walls that guarded the keep and the courtyard twinkled with basins of fire all along the edges. The silhouette of the Eastern Mountain Range was a black shadow against the star filled sky. A couple of miles away was a sea of torches gathered by a forest.

  That must be Zamari’s army, Consus realized. He shuddered as he regarded the sight. Her army would become an unquenchable flame that would swallow the world. I won’t let that happen. Consus spotted Synara and Zamari at the edge of the roof.

  Zamari greeted them with a wide grin on her face and the Pilgrim Stone in her hands. “Well Consus, I’m impressed that you are even able to walk,” she said. “You must be tired and in great pain.” There was a twisted dark pleasure in the words that dripped from her mouth.

  “I stopped your stupid curse,” Consus said. “You’re outnumbered and outmatched. Hand over the Pilgrim Stone.”

  Zamari’s cackle rippled through the night. Consus, though full of rage, could not suppress a shiver. “I will kill you and eat your heart,” she said. “And then I will feed your friends to the Throne.”