Heroes Gone Rogue

by Jason Kenyon

  ‘Don’t be silly, Archie. You’re capable of dealing with a few demons, right?’

  ‘Potentially not,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘You remember what things were like in Ferrina, yes?’

  ‘It’s just to keep an eye on things,’ Mellara said. ‘I’m probably not going to be too far away myself, so I’ll join in if things get bad. But chances are that I’m wrong anyway.’

  ‘We had no prior ideas or plans for the day,’ Ithalna said. ‘We might as well keep watch at the tournament for Valia. It is likely that the location they have the Syrakh is closer to the tournament grounds than in the middle of the surrounding forests in any case.’

  ‘Are we too late to take part?’ Obdo asked.

  Everyone just glared at him.

  *

  Anjilo, Tharanor and Neurion met up again at the Crowntown Tea Factory, and waited for Mellara there. She’d dropped by their inn as well, and wanted to talk to them about something important before she got to work on the day’s investigations.

  ‘I want you to put three relorans on Astara Greenfield,’ Mellara said to Tharanor once she’d arrived, and she handed him the coins.

  Tharanor looked at the others. ‘Uhm… you called us here so you could place a bet?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘You couldn’t have done this earlier?’

  Mellara grinned. ‘I had to get princess to hand over some of my pay for bringing her here. Do you think I’m made of relorans?’

  ‘Not now that you’ve thrown away three relorans on one bet, no!’ Tharanor said. ‘Who the heck is Astara Greenfield anyway?’

  ‘She’s an archer,’ Mellara replied. ‘I snuck in to watch during some of the training sessions – don’t be angry - and she was the best there by far. Not as good as me, of course, but I can’t compete in the tourney.’

  ‘Uhm, good luck with that, then,’ Tharanor said. He tightened his fist around the three relorans and gave Mellara a formal nod. ‘Hmmm, it seems a bit odd to me that paladins would encourage gambling. I thought most holy orders regarded it as sinful.’

  ‘Gambling is not a sin in moderation,’ Neurion said, bowing his head solemnly. ‘Gert Valdar the Broad thwarted the Necromancers of Klar by defeating them in a gambling match.’

  Tharanor snorted. ‘Yeah, right. He’s been listening to too many of Obdo’s stories, huh?’ he asked Anjilo, giving her a nudge.

  Anjilo giggled. ‘Nope, it’s true! That’s a very popular story in the Order. It’s also why we often have games of fortune every weekend.’

  ‘Well, okay,’ Tharanor said. ‘I’m just going to stop questioning anything from now on.’

  *

  Archimegadon liked to watch tournaments. The thrill of betting on the contestants, and the subsequent winnings, were certainly quite addictive. However, he didn’t enjoy having to share the stands with so many insolent people, especially now that he couldn’t dress up as a mage and attempt to command some respect.

  His mood was also dimmed by the excessive number of paladin banners on display, and most notably the endless procession at the tournament’s opening, in which he was subjected to watching the holy knights walking in circles while they beat their drums to death. A large cheer rose from the crowd when Salestis de’Cirana herself appeared in the Regent’s Balcony, an oversized stand that dwarfed those set aside for the common folk. Archimegadon found himself tempted to try some of Ithalna’s beloved wind magic to blow Salestis’s hair in her face during her opening speech, but even in the unlikely scenario of him getting the spell right, he was too far away to try it.

  ‘What do you think, Sir Mage?’ Obdo asked. ‘Is Mellara right?

  ‘About Valia attacking?’ Archimegadon shrugged. ‘At this stage, I would welcome anything interesting. We have been here for an hour and I have not seen anything resembling combat.’

  Ithalna was sitting on Archimegadon’s left, despite his recommendations that she stay far from the tournament. She still seemed confident that nobody would recognise her without her usual make-up, hairstyle, or regalia, and Archimegadon was still feeling far too lazy to argue the point.

  ‘Remember how I commented that life in my old role was dull?’ Ithalna asked. ‘Now imagine sitting through several of these in a row, every other day.’

  ‘I see,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Perhaps I was wrong to judge you so harshly.’

  Shortly after, Archimegadon’s torture was brought to an end, as the inaudible speeches were replaced by the first round of contests. To start things off, the Order had arranged for a number of its mightiest knights to swing swords at each other. Several armies had presumably had their arsenal melted down to provide the materials needed to craft the absurdly-large armour these paladins were clad in, and Archimegadon suspected that the glorious sunshine was not favouring them. The fights were long, tedious, and slightly embarrassing, as the participating paladins all seemed to become tired shortly into each duel.

  ‘Now, you see, this is what I was referring to before,’ Ithalna said quietly to Archimegadon. ‘If they had some mages on hand, they could generate an aura of cooler air, allowing these paladins to fight in less discomfort.’

  This talk of magic was starting to make Archimegadon want to get another lesson from Ithalna. He began to idly think over some of his smaller spells, such as the firelight, and pondered if he might not do some experimenting while he waited for anything interesting to take place. Valia certainly didn’t seem eager to drop in, Salestis hadn’t yet deployed her beloved Syrakh, and the tournament events so far had been woeful. Archimegadon sighed miserably.

  ‘Hmm, that is interesting,’ Ithalna said.

  ‘What?’ Archimegadon asked, grouchy that she’d spoken just as he was on the verge of a doze.

  ‘Look over there, near the Regent’s Balcony,’ Ithalna replied. ‘There is a stand for the Knights of Valanthas – they have their banners flying. It seems that the Supreme Commander is befriending them again.’

  ‘Probably to stop them joining Diojin’s imbeciles,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘That, or she intends to wipe them out along with the Central Council,’ Ithalna said quietly. ‘I am not too optimistic.’

  ‘I don’t like the Knights anyway,’ Archimegadon said, thinking mainly of the Order of Endless Skies, Lord Bartell’s group of bullies.

  ‘Now, now,’ Ithalna said. ‘We are here to keep things stable.’

  ‘Being responsible is boring,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘If there is one thing we have been over the last couple of months, it is most certainly not that,’ Ithalna said with a smile.

  The next event was archery, which to Archimegadon’s mind was like flamebolt with none of the fun. He glowered at the competitors as they took turns shooting for a tiny target, and when one woman took far too long aiming, he decided to take out his irritation on her. As she released the shot, he mumbled the spell and sent an errant gust of wind into the arrow’s path, causing it to miss the target entirely. The archer stared with wide eyes at her arrow, while the stands rumbled with sympathetic cries, and the occasional jeer.

  ‘Ardon, that is cheating,’ Ithalna said quietly.

  ‘I didn’t do a thing,’ Archimegadon lied, but he sat back and decided to behave for the following events.

  ‘You wouldn’t think that Diojin and his friends had occupied Stornis Hold,’ Obdo said. ‘The Order seems to be acting cheerfully enough in spite of losing it.’

  ‘Ruling is half actually ruling, and half making everyone think that you are,’ Ithalna said. ‘They don’t want to look like it’s upset them. Of course, Salestis is about to try another method – briefly making everything think you don’t have enough control, so that they will support tighter measures.’

  ‘That ass Malthanes will only make a mess of things,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘Yes, but you will find that more people will want him in charge instead of the Syrakh,’ Ithalna said.

  ‘Well, they’re wrong,’ Archimegadon said, folding his ar
ms stubbornly.

  *

  ‘The fact of the matter is that the knights cannot be trusted,’ said Commander Vandore, a deep frown written across his weathered face.

  ‘I appreciate your concern,’ Lyssina said, but she really had no interest in what the old warrior had to say.

  Vandore was an old soldier, and while Lyssina did have a fair amount of gratitude for the battles he’d fought in the past, she was concerned that his experiences had left him a bit too wary of other factions. He’d accosted her in the middle of a corridor in the royal palace as she’d been making her way to deliver a message, and was trying to convince her that Salestis was wrong to invite the Knight Champion and his army back into the fold. If only he knew what Salestis really planned!

  But Lyssina was determined to prevent it. Somehow.

  The whole matter troubled her, but she didn’t want to act against Salestis either. Vandore spoke of trust, and she couldn’t help feeling guilt at how she’d attempted to undermine Salestis’s plot with the Syrakh. Over and over, she reminded herself that telling Unette and her mercenaries about the plan was wise… that it was ultimately helping Salestis to keep her honour intact… but every time she hid the truth from Salestis, she could feel her faith wither.

  And so she had left off her assistance at simply telling Unette those few details in their one meeting, and since then she’d done nothing to sabotage Malthanes’s operation. Indeed, this message she was delivering was intended for Malthanes, so she was still helping their plot even now.

  Vandore stared at her, aware that, somewhere during the conversation, he’d lost her attention. Giving an impatient huff, he stormed off. Lyssina watched him leave, wondering if her handling of this conversation would come back to haunt her.

  Salestis had clearly invited him back to Arenfel knowing that he would support Malthanes after the Syrakh was defeated. While Vandore would probably have preferred to be in command himself, he still deferred to the Shield, even though he resented taking orders from people younger than himself.

  Matters for another time. She had to speak to Malthanes first, unpleasant as that always was.

  She gave his door a gentle tap once she reached it, half-hoping he’d not answer, so she could pretend he was out and leave, but he called for her to enter immediately. Stifling a most unholy curse, she stepped inside.

  Despite the overt size of the armour he usually wore, Malthanes didn’t look diminished in his regular clothes. Broad of shoulder and a head taller than Lyssina, he never slacked in his training, cutting an intimidating figure in spite of the withdrawal that clearly still afflicted him. While she was comfortable smirking at him with Salestis around, Lyssina did not feel so confident when it was just the two of them.

  She held out a scroll, and he rose from his desk to take it from her. Before he could check it, she went ahead and told him what was on it anyway.

  ‘The Supreme Commander wishes for you to fortify the hideout,’ Lyssina said. She had hoped that Salestis would give away its location, She had hoped that Salestis would give away its location, but since Unette had refused to share where they were staying, Lyssina couldn’t have passed on the information anyway. ‘You must withdraw all available Shield units nearby as soon as possible.’

  Malthanes’s eyes shot up from the scroll, and Lyssina had to focus not to flinch as his gaze met hers. ‘I must do that, must I?’ He regarded her silently for a few more seconds, and then he gave a short nod. ‘Very well.’

  ‘And she wishes to speak with you first thing in the morning,’ Lyssina went on. ‘The details should be on there.’

  ‘Is there anything to add that isn’t written here?’ Malthanes asked.

  Flushing, Lyssina shook her head. ‘The Supreme Commander wanted me to tell you directly as well as deliver the message.’

  ‘I’ll handle it,’ Malthanes said. ‘You don’t need to labour the point.’

  Lyssina pondered pushing it anyway, but decided that she’d prefer to just leave. Malthanes was standing close, blocking the light from the window behind him, and the atmosphere around him was thick with some intangible pressure. Was it the vistarium that ran through him, or just her imagination? She shook her head, and then caught herself and gave him a short nod.

  ‘Alright, Sir Malthanes,’ she said. ‘Good luck with your mission.’

  She made to leave, but before she could reach the door, Malthanes spoke again.

  ‘Do you think, Lyssie, that her protection will continue after she’s gone?’ he asked. Lyssina turned slowly to see a small smile playing at the edges of his purpled lips. ‘You’re nothing special. Just an errand girl with a powerful friend. Don’t forget that while you prance around delivering orders.’

  ‘I don’t think the Supreme Commander would appreciate what you’re saying,’ Lyssina said, reddening again as she resorted to her usual fallback.

  ‘You don’t have long to keep using her title,’ Malthanes said, setting the scroll down on the table behind him, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Lyssina. ‘And she won’t do anything now. There isn’t time. Her plan won’t work without my support.’

  ‘Your plan,’ Lyssina repeated, standing tall as she returned his gaze. ‘Do you expect to make Valanthas a better place by turning everyone into enemies?’

  Chuckling, Malthanes shook his head. ‘Don’t mistake me. I’ll bring the knights and mages back together with us all, once this is done, and together we will make Valanthas strong against these cultists and those who empower them. You are the only one who will be left out.’

  ‘All it will take is one conversation…’

  Malthanes grabbed her wrist faster than she expected, and she let out an involuntary whimper as he tightened his grip. ‘I don’t think you get it. This plan is more important to Sal than you or me. You think you’re special? She sees us both as playthings… well, you’re more of a pet, let’s be honest here… and the moment you cause her trouble, she’ll drop you.’

  ‘She won’t, she…’

  ‘…Didn’t even remember you until a year ago,’ Malthanes cut in. ‘Salestis enjoys her entertainment like anyone else, but she gets bored fast, and she gets rid of obstacles even quicker.’

  Lyssina tried to pull her arm free, but it was no use. Malthanes was a dedicated soldier, while she was, just as he had said, mostly kept around to deliver messages. His words stung, but she wouldn’t listen. He was a bitter and hateful man, a deranged brute, and nothing he said was worth hearing.

  ‘I know how she really feels,’ Lyssina told him.

  His sly smile grew wider. ‘You believe that the Shield is fanatical? We are nothing next to her. She’ll always choose her plots over you… over both of us.’

  Lyssina wanted to snap something back at him, but she found she couldn’t speak.

  ‘Now go and squeal to her if you want,’ Malthanes said, and he released her arm, turning to stare out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. ‘But remember – her plan doesn’t work without me, and I left a trail if she does think she can cross me at the last minute. You don’t have time.’

  No retort came to mind, and Lyssina left his parting words hanging in the air, while everything else he’d said rang in her ears all the way through the palace.

  *

  The tournament passed with no disasters, and Archimegadon even got to have his doze. Once it was over, the group met up with Mellara next to the Tea Factory, since it was the most obvious location near the tournament. Mellara seemed to be in particularly good spirits, and led everyone back to the Battle’s Reward for drinks, and to discuss her day’s findings.

  ‘Did you find where the Syrakh is being held?’ Ithalna asked.

  ‘I didn’t, no,’ Mellara replied. ‘But I got something almost as good! I found Valia.’

  Archimegadon woke up fully for the first time. ‘What? Where is she? Is she holed up with her demons?’

  ‘I didn’t see any demons, no,’ Mellara replied. ‘It was while I was checking around on
e of the markets nearby – I heard that familiar voice shouting a ton of insults at some poor woman who got in her way. By the time I reached her, she was just slamming her front door shut, but I’d recognise that face anywhere after what she put us through. It was Valia, sure as anything.’

  ‘And you didn’t kill her then and there?’ Tharanor asked.

  ‘I might have said I didn’t see any demons,’ Mellara replied, ‘but that doesn’t mean there weren’t any nearby. Her voice sounded off, though. I think she’s been drinking.’

  ‘Then we hardly have time for drinks ourselves,’ Tharanor said. ‘This is it. Time at long damned last. Time to kill her.’

  ‘Do not be so eager to resort to bloodshed, Tharanor,’ Ithalna said.

  ‘You haven’t suffered at her hands like I have,’ Tharanor said. ‘She killed Yuriath.’

  ‘Yes, and she killed my father,’ Ithalna said. Tharanor paused mid-rage. ‘Exactly. I have just as much stake in vengeance as you do. However, I am not certain that going straight in and murdering her is our best course of action.’

  ‘Are you joking?’ Tharanor asked, his brief shame fading away. ‘Valia helped Marr ruin Ferrina. She’s poison. And you seemed happy to kill paladins before. Why not her?’

  ‘I thought we were working on redeeming her,’ Obdo said.

  ‘I am inclined to agree with Tharanor,’ Neurion said. ‘When we had Valia in our custody, I was in favour of helping her, but now I think it is too dangerous to let her go free. We should bring things with her to an end now.’

  ‘You’ve been too close to the Supreme Arse this past week,’ Obdo said. ‘Now you’re turning into a proper holy bum.’

  Neurion reddened. ‘Some questions are as simple as good or bad. In this case, I think the only good option is to… to put her down. Like we did with Belias, Bartell, Marr, and Zillon.’

  Archimegadon drummed his fingers, and Mellara turned to him.

  ‘Any input of your own, noble leader?’ she asked.

  ‘If Valia is not surrounded by her demons, and if she is indeed drunk, this seems like a perfect opportunity to capture her,’ Archimegadon replied.