by James Green
“Ana!” Fred shouted. “Welcome back! Couldn’t resist my charms any longer, eh?”
“Put some clothes on, Fred,” she replied.
“What?” he asked, incredulous. “Why would I do that? Clothes merely interfere with Man’s link with the earth. I can feel the life all around me, it’s wonderful. Besides, after I chew the red mintcap, clothes just feel wrong.”
“William, I’d like to introduce Fredric von Elliston.”
“Call me Fred! I like your beasts, William. That lizard looks familiar. A big one of those nests nearby. I call it Jimbo.”
I realized that Snatcher was still full of Gale’s power and pulled it from him, returning him to his natural size.
I heard snapping branches and something large crashing through the underbrush at high speed. A moment later Ulmar burst into the clearing, his sword held high, glowing with Holy light.
“I’m here, where is the foe?” he bellowed and then stumbled to a halt, taking in the scene. “Duke Fredric? What are you doing here, your grace?”
“Ulmar! What a good day this has been, with old friends returning and bringing new ones. Please, don’t call me your grace. I am no longer a Duke, merely a humble herbalist.”
“Isn’t that something?” Ulmar mused. “I never suspected you would be the Fred we were looking for.”
“You were looking for me? Here I am. I assume you have need of one of my famous potions.”
“Not exactly,” I replied. “We’re looking for Lord Mercer and a missing Frost Tortoise that was stolen from Duchess Amber.”
“Why do you think I would know anything about that?” he asked, a genuinely curious expression on his face.
“I know you love gossip and secrets, Fred,” Anastasia replied.
“You have my measure, Ana,” Fred replied. “People confide in me, it’s true. The forest itself often whispers its secrets to me on the wind. Even so, I do not know anything of your missing Lord and Turtle. I’m a simple herbalist. I make my remedies and I sell them to people in need while trying to live in harmony with my environment.”
“Tortoise,” I corrected automatically.
“Some harmony, Fred,” Anastasia scoffed. “Your forest is full of mad Saprophytes and we had to put down your neighbor, Jimbo.”
“Oh no, Jimbo!” Fred exclaimed, a look of sadness briefly crossing his face. “He was a little bitey, I must admit. The Saprophytes, however, are a genuine problem. They’re always eating or destroying my crops.”
“Your crops? You mean mushrooms?” I asked.
“Yes, mostly mushrooms,” Fred agreed. “They’re so addled they often can’t tell the difference between the rings Myca leaves for them and my patches. They’ll eat anything. A true nuisance, they are. There are so many of them recently, too. Myca must be gathering them for some reason.”
“There are many fewer now, your—Fred,” Ulmar said respectfully. “We slew a large group of them earlier after they attacked us. They were mad.”
“They generally are. Thanks to all of you. Can I offer you a bit of red mintcap or some other refreshment?”
“No thank you, Fred,” Anastasia said. “What did you mean about Myca? How would their goddess be gathering them?”
He snorted in derision, lying down in the thick moss of the Starlight glade. “Myca, a goddess. In her dreams. No, she is powerful but no goddess. I’ve seen her here in the Wyldwir occasionally. There’s something about her that causes fools to worship her. I’ll admit she is a beauty, although far too crazy for me.”
“We can worry about the Saprophytes later. Fred, we found a potion bottle of yours,” I said. “We were hoping you could tell us who you sold it to.”
“My name has spread far and wide!” Fred pronounced, sitting up and raising his arms to the sky. “People seek me out in the deeps of the Wyldwir to buy my potions! Also, I sell a fair bit on market days in the local villages.”
Anastasia pulled the bottle free and unwrapped it. She walked over to where he was sitting and handed it to him.
He examined it, turning it over in his hands. “Definitely my seal and one of my bottles.”
Lifting the bottle to his nose he inhaled deeply. “That is my tonic. My best-selling potion, among certain crowds. I’m afraid I have no idea who this particular bottle went to.”
“What does it do?” I asked.
“It is nature’s gift to the man in his middle years,” Fred said, seeming to break into a sales pitch. “His belly has grown while his manhood has shrunk. Maybe he has a young mistress who he wants to give something more than expensive gifts, and he finds he cannot. Fred’s Tonic is the solution. It will give that man the drive and energy of a young man, in all things. For a time.”
“Your tonic makes it so that old men can fuck again?” Anastasia asked, chuckling.
“Not old men,” Fred said. “Older men. Mature, seasoned, wealthy. My best customers. Also, it’s not just about sex. Fred’s Tonic restores aggression and power in the older man, making them better fighters as well as lovers. Truly a wondrous creation, if I may say so.”
“Could a young man have taken this tonic? Or a woman?” Ulmar asked.
“Certainly,” Fred replied, standing up. “Anyone may use my creations. Sadly, however, Fred’s Tonic does little for the younger man and nothing at all for a woman.”
“That helps a bit, I guess,” I mused. “Whoever took the tonic was a man, and probably older.”
“I’m sorry I could not be of more help,” Fred said and began to get dressed. “Please, join me by the fire. I have some lovely soup I will be happy to share. You can camp here for the night.”
After a quick trip back to our previous campsite we returned with our horses and gear to the Starlight glade, where a delicious aroma was filling the air. He served each of us in hand-carved wooden bowls and the soup was hot and tasty.
“We’ll have to go back to Mianya,” I said. “Maybe a citizen witnessed Lord Mercer or someone else leaving with Grimjaw through one of the catacombs’ exits.”
“We could explore the catacombs themselves, try to find a sign of Grimjaw’s passage,” Anastasia suggested.
Ulmar grimaced. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. That place is a maze.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Amber told me the people that live in Mianya don’t even know all of it any longer.”
Fred had quite a nice setup in the Starlight glade. He had made his fire in a stone depression, a shallow cellar of the building that had once stood here. The light of the fire would never be noticed until you were right on top of it.
He had an extensive collection of dried herbs and mushrooms in jars and clay pots, arranged along stone shelves. Those shelves were set into what looked like a cave at first glance but was obviously yet another part of the cellar, although this one hadn’t yet collapsed. He seemed completely at home there.
That was why it was a surprise when he asked to come back with us. “I’d like to accompany you back to Mianya, if I may. I have a surplus of potions brewed that I could sell for a premium. It has been some time since I’ve been, I’m sure my customers have missed me.”
Despite the odd first impression, Fred was very pleasant company, and everyone liked him. None of us had any issues with him coming back with us.
I had the last watch and was awake early, hearing the muted sounds of the forest return as the sun rose unseen above the canopy.
Fred woke before dawn himself and disappeared into the woods, returning ten minutes later leading a scruffy looking stallion. Its mane was full of burrs and tangles—it looked like a wild horse.
Fred saw my quizzical look and smiled at me. “He was off visiting with his lady friends. I had to get closer to convince him to come back. His herd will have to do without their stallion for a while.”
The stallion stood quietly while Fred brushed the burrs out of his mane and tail and checked his hooves. By the time Ulmar and Anastasia had woken, the horse was presentable again and Fred had saddled him
.
We had a quick, hot breakfast and then we were on our way. Snatcher rode on my shoulders like a prince on his palanquin, his tongue tasting the air.
With Fred’s help we made it out of the Wyldwir quickly, the choking brush almost seemed to part before us. Fred simply knew all the trails and he led us down them. My spirits lifted when we came out from underneath the dim canopy of the forest and into the bright morning sunlight.
Early morning traffic on the main road was thin until we got closer to Mianya and began to run into farmers bringing their carts to the city, laden with produce or livestock animals.
The sun was high in the sky and Mianya was looming in the distance when we faintly heard the frantically ringing bells reaching out to us across the fields.
“Those are alarm bells,” Anastasia said, standing in her stirrups and shielding her eyes with a hand as she looked strained to see. “Something’s happening in Mianya.”
It was still far off, but I could see thick black lines of smoke rising from the garrison.
“The garrison’s on fire,” I said as what I was seeing suddenly made sense. “The city is under attack.”
Chapter 11
I dug my heels into Ramses’ sides, and he sprung forward, thundering down the road toward Mianya. I looked over my shoulder and saw all three of my companions following in my wake.
Civilians moved out of our way, either hearing the galloping horses in time or my bellows for them to get the hell out of the road. I weaved Ramses around stopped carts and oblivious people, Mianya slowly coming closer.
Nearer the walls there were too many people. The battle at the garrison had caused a panic at the city gates with people rushing inward at the same time as formations of guards attempted to push out.
I nudged Ramses with my thighs, and he left the road, dropping into the dry ditch beside the raised road. Without hesitation he leaped the low cattle fence separating this farmer’s fields from the main road and then we were galloping across the planted field, the waist-high plants parting like a green sea before us.
The garrison was directly ahead. I could see the solid walls and blocky fortress behind the chaotic rows of houses that had sprung up here outside Mianya’s main wall. Some of the pillars of smoke were coming from that area. Now that we were closer, I could smell the burning wood and hear the faint sounds of combat—the clash of arms and the cries of the wounded and dying.
Ramses leapt the last fence and surged up out of the ditch onto the road. I reined in, looking behind me. Anastasia and Fred were right behind me, with Ulmar on his pony lagging behind but gamely trying to keep up. I turned back toward the garrison.
The sounds of combat were directly ahead, in among the streets. Panicked townsfolk streamed down the street toward us, some clutching bloody wounds. Mithra sat at Ramses’ feet, his tongue lolling. I could almost feel his eagerness for battle.
Anastasia and Fred reined up beside me, and a minute later Ulmar was there as well.
“What’s the plan?” he asked.
“We go straight in and attempt to relieve the garrison however we can,” I said. “They’re under attack, and whoever it is doesn’t appear to be too picky about who they hurt.”
“A desperate battle against dark and mysterious forces,” Fred enthused. “How exciting! I will aid as I can.”
Confident my friends would follow my lead, I nodded my thanks to Fred and dug my heels in. Ramses snorted and shot down the street.
The fleeing civilians parted for us, not eager to be run down by the solders riding to their rescue. The road twisted to the right and the wind shifted, blowing thick smoke into my face. I couldn’t see for a moment and then I broke through the cloud of smoke—into chaos. A small stone plaza. Not long ago a market had been set up here, and now the stalls and carts were smashed, goods scattered on the ground.
I ducked instinctually and a bolt whizzed over my head. A disheveled man, his brown hair long and matted, frantically attempted to reload a primitive crossbow. Behind him, three of his friends, armed with daggers and short swords, were attempting to kick down a house’s stout wooden door. Elsewhere in the square, I could see other groups of invaders doing much the same or plundering houses they’d managed to enter.
With a nudge, I turned Ramses and rode him straight at the crossbow-wielding invader. Without thinking about it, Rime was in my hand, tucked under my right arm. The leaf-bladed point effortlessly punched through the man’s breastbone, lifting him off his feet. With a grunt of effort, I threw the gurgling corpse into his friends. His pinwheeling form crashed into their backs, knocking two of them down.
Snatcher leapt free as I rolled out of Ramses’ saddle, not having time to grab my shield. I landed on my feet, sprinting toward the three men. Mithra had been with me the whole time and darted in to clamp his jaws down on the ankle of the last man standing. Bone crunched and the man screamed, flailing with his dagger as Mithra released him and withdrew.
Rime’s edge found the man’s throat a heartbeat later, the spraying blood painting the wall of the house he’d been attempting to invade. The other two were just struggling out from underneath the dead man with the crossbow when I staved one’s skull in and eviscerated the other.
I took a moment to study the four men I’d killed. I recognized what they were immediately. Underneath their commoner’s clothing of muslin and wool their flesh was wasted. All but one of them had long, filthy beards. Their teeth were stained a dark black. Saprophytes.
My companions had made short work of the rest of the invaders. I whistled Ramses over and hopped back up in the saddle.
“Saprophytes!” Fred said. “How unusual that they would attack Mianya. I can’t imagine what Myca has in mind.”
We rode out of the plaza, toward more sounds of battle in the direction of the garrison.
The street ended as we rode out into the exclusion zone around the garrison’s walls. A large breach had been blasted in the wall several hundred feet from us. Mounds of corpses were heaped up in and around the breach, distance and the smoke in the air obscuring them. The walls were empty and I caught a glimpse of more fighting going on inside the garrison.
Directly in front of us a double Fist of Queen’s spearmen were surrounded by a mob of at least a hundred Saprophytes who pressed in on them from all sides. Their phalanx was holding but there simply weren’t enough of them to hold for long. I dug in my heels and Ramses charged the mob.
I leaned over and pulled my shield free of its saddle mount, feeling Gale’s power become accessible once more. Just before Ramses would have plowed into the mass of maddened Saprophytes, I nudged him to the left and in one smooth motion got my feet underneath me and leapt from the saddle of the moving horse. I soared through the air, pulling Mortis’s power into me. I screamed as the black aura suffused me and then my falling form plowed into the center of the mob of Saprophytes.
My impact had left a small circle around me as I’d driven a handful of crazed mushroom-eaters to the ground. Tentacles of dark Death magic stretched out and began to feed on those nearby. I pushed the power of Mortis into Mithra and the power of Gale into Snatcher as I stood and began to slay.
Rime streaked out and took a throat here, a spine there. I laughed manically as the life flowing into me just felt so good.
My leap had left me far from the edge of the attacking Saprophyte group. I saw the flash of lightning and the blinding glare of Ulmar’s Holy magic as he and Anastasia crashed into the side of the mob, their blades decimating the undisciplined horde. Behind them Fred raised his staff in the air, the white crystal on the end glowing a verdant green. Wrist-thick vines with two-inch long thorns pushed their way out of the cobblestones underneath the mob’s feet, snaking around legs. Thankfully they ignored me.
Mithra arrowed in, his Spectral form passing through the ranks of Saprophytes like an ill wind as he joined me at my side. The terrifying Spectral Wolf lashed out, his form ignoring their weapons as he ripped out throats and opened bellie
s. I saw Snatcher flit through the crowd like a ghost, never staying still. Whenever he paused blood would fly or bones would break.
I broke an arm with the rim of my shield and then Rime’s point took the same man in the throat. Despite my frantic defense the mass of Saprophytes around me were landing blows, their rusting short swords and daggers opening shallow cuts or skipping off my armor. Neither fazed me—the cuts closed immediately as I used their own life force to heal the damage they inflicted.
I thrust Rime through a blocking arm and into the rib cage behind it and invoked Ice Wave. The Saprophyte I had impaled froze instantly and then shattered as the wave passed through him. It rolled onward, snapping legs as it pushed the Saprophytes against the firm grip Fred’s vines had on them.
A roar went up from the besieged Queen’s Spears as they noticed us coming to their rescue. Someone in their formation barked an order and they went back on the offensive, spears thrusting as the Saprophyte’s will to fight crumbled.
They might have fled, but Fred had removed that option. So instead they died to the last man…and woman. Like the ones we had met in the forest, this was a mixed crowd. I dismissed Mortis’s power before my friends got too close and pulled the power out of Mithra and Snatcher. Being empowered was draining for them and we weren’t done fighting yet.
The Queen’s Spears were in rough shape. All of them were wounded, some severely. They had protected their casualties in the center of their formation as best they could, but they had been lucky we’d arrived when we had. A few more minutes and they all would have been dead.
The sole surviving sergeant approached us, limping. He looked at me with a puzzled expression, obviously recognizing a fellow Queen’s Spear, but saluted Anastasia, thumping his fist to his laminated breastplate in respect.
“Milady. I am sergeant Ajax. Thank you for the relief.”
She nodded. “Report, Sergeant.”
“A large force of these scum attacked the garrison,” he reported. “We were returning from patrol early in response to the alarm bells. The attacking force breached the wall just as we arrived, using what looked like Earth magic. They were led by a striking woman with long green hair. When they saw us, they split off the larger part of their force to attack us. The rest went through the breach.”