‘What shall we do, Grand Master?’ Samuel asked, pushing in next to Anthem.
The old man shook his head. ‘We may be brought before the Emperor sooner than we wished. Stay ready. We still may be able to go ahead with our plan if the chance presents itself, even if it is not on our original terms.’
‘Where is Goodfellow?’ Eric asked, squeezing in beside them.
Samuel looked around. ‘I did not see him. I was hoping he saw the soldiers coming and managed to escape.’
‘And Master Glim is still free,’ Lomar mentioned, also suddenly beside them. ‘They are our hope.’
‘Unless Tulan has double-crossed them also,’ Eric said dryly.
‘I would like to think not,’ Samuel said. ‘He doesn’t need to.
‘But that was quite a surprise,’ Lomar added. ‘I can’t fathom why he would help us and then capture us when he could have done so at any time before.’
When they arrived at the palace, the enormous gates were closed fast. A crowd had followed them all the way, gawking and gossiping at the spectacle of magicians under arrest. Samuel was almost relieved when the gates opened just enough to allow them entry and then boomed firmly shut behind them, sealing out the awful cacophony of the crowd.
A large number of soldiers were standing in formation before the palace-several thousand at least. Surrounded on either side by the soldiers, about a hundred magicians also stood waiting-looking altogether disorganised compared to the stiff lines of attentive soldiers.
‘Eh?’ Samuel heard the old Grand Master mutter beside him. ‘What’s all this then?’
High Lord Rimus led them between the two starkly contrasting groups to the palace steps, where the other councillors, including Tulan, were waiting.
Samuel dismissed any thought of trying to escape. He had never seen so many armed men in one place.
‘Is this the army?’ Samuel asked of Lomar on his other side.
Lomar shook his head. ‘This is part of the Royal Guard-hand-picked to protect the palace. They are but a part of the Emperor’s forces here in Cintar, which are but a fraction of his entire army.’
Just then, more soldiers came out of the palace and started down the long palace stairs, followed by a small cluster of black-cloaked magicians. The distinctive shapes of Dividian and the Archmage were visible amongst them. Behind them, with golden-armoured bodyguards at their sides, strode a man and a woman, both splendidly dressed. The man was surrounded in such a cage of spells that Samuel had never before witnessed. There were layers- upon-layers of magic around the man, each so thick that Samuel had to dull his
‘Who are they?’ Samuel asked the brown-skinned magician in a soft voice.
‘It’s the Emperor and his latest wife-Empress Lillith,’ Lomar responded.
‘How many wives does he have?’ Eric asked.
‘About thirty, I think,’ the wiry magician replied, ‘and forty-seven daughters.’
Samuel was flabbergasted. ‘But the man looks barely in his forties!’
‘He is ninety-seven years old,’ Lomar revealed. ‘The power of the Staff of Elders is beyond anything we magicians can begin to imagine. It cannot, however, grant him the son he has always wanted. According to Master Celios, only Empress Lillith can do that, so the other wives have all been relegated to a distant second place behind her.’
The five Lions were there, waiting at the front of the Adept along with a few other old magicians.
‘Anthem’s old friends seem to have also been informed of our treachery,’ Samuel whispered.
‘So it seems,’ was Lomar’s reply. ‘Thankfully for us, they are still free and still seem to be on good terms with the Emperor. I am assuming, of course, that they are not involved in turning us in.’
After a few moments of talking with the councillors, the Emperor stepped to the front of the assembly and began to address them all.
‘Well,’ the Emperor spoke as he began his address. His voice was as youthful as his looks and sounded deep and confident. ‘It looks like everyone is here, so we can finally begin. Today is a wonderful day.’ And he looked at the gathering of soldiers and magicians and smiled sincerely. ‘How it warms me to have such a bountiful empire. My Royal Guard-dedicated to protecting me and my city.’ He looked to the Archmage and the gathering of councillors. ‘My faithful magicians-forever aiding my people with their spells and wonderful magical feats.’ He then pointed to Samuel and the gathering of old men with a frown. ‘And these traitorous vermin.’ The old men whispered nervously to each other at this as the Emperor began to stroll back and forth before them. ‘I see we have finally found the venerable Grand Master Anthem, at last revealing his true colours. I would never have thought you would resort to organising such an ill-fated effort to rebel against me. I was hoping you would do slightly better than this sorry effort. How you have fallen in your old age. When you were younger, you could kill men like you were plucking the heads off daisies. You killed five men for every one my Lions could defeat. Nobody could kill his own countrymen like the great Janus Anthem. How sad you look now, huddled amongst your quivering brothers-in-treachery. How the mighty have fallen.’
He then began pacing along the stairs. ‘The Order of Magicians has been such a mixed blessing to me over the years. On the one hand, you have been such a boon, granting my people health and improving my Empire in so many ways, but on the other, you have become ever so tiresome with your constant accursed nagging and bickering and pulling of my ear. This latest escapade of yours has helped me to make up my mind that the Order has deviated too far from its original purpose. Even my beloved Lions have proved to be traitors.’ At that, the five Grand Masters standing at the front of the gathering turned to face their Emperor with surprise on their faces. ‘Only a select few will be chosen to remain. The Order has been something of a failed attempt, but I will start again with a new generation of fresh-thinking and enthusiastic young men. For all of you gathered here, you shall immediately be executed.’ At that, the crowd of gathered magicians began to murmur and jostle nervously. ‘General,’ the Emperor instructed as he turned and began back up the stairs, ‘you may begin.’
General Ruardin nodded and a captain standing beside him drew his sword and raised it high. At that, all the Royal Guards slid their weapons from their sheaths as one and turned inwards to face the cluster of magicians pinned between their ranks. The Archmage and the councillors were the only magicians present that were to be spared and they made sure to keep their distance from the others, safely on the stairs. Tulan stood beside the Archmage with his arms folded. His expression was unreadable. The aged magician beside him leaned upon the Staff of Elders, with a thin smile of expectation on his lips.
‘Ah,’ Eric stammered nervously. ‘I hope this is where we do have some kind of plan.’
Magic began to be summoned all around as the horrified magicians began marshalling their defences, but another spell, surging forth from the Staff of Elders, rippled through the air, wasting their efforts completely. Even the five Lions, with soldiers bearing down on them with long spears, could do nothing to summon their power, and looked to each other with worried expressions. Samuel, too, could feel the Staff of Elders smothering his efforts to draw from the ether. Its power was absolute against them, especially as it had been brought to task before any of them could prepare against it.
‘You may continue, General,’ Archmage Ordi croaked, and the general again nodded to his captain.
As the captain swung his sword down ceremoniously, the Royal Guard began pushing inwards, stabbing and slashing at the magicians nearest to their blades. Panicked magicians began pushing in towards each other, falling and crushing against each other to escape the encroaching danger. The Lions had been herded down the few remaining steps with the others, and were regarding the spears before them anxiously. Magicians screamed and fell in scores as the soldiers worked at hacking them down.
‘For Garteny!’ someone called out above the din and Samuel turned his head just in time to see Tulan dragging a dagger across the Archmage’s neck. Tulan’s blade was wrought with silver-hewn spells that turned the Archmage’s own defences to scraps of screeching, wasted magic. Scarlet fluid spat from the old man’s ruined throat, in stark contrast to the brilliant silver and blue hues of the spells writhing wildly around him. General Ruardin stepped forward. His blade came out in a flash and would have had Tulan’s head cut clean off, but Tulan snapped a spell in place-somehow prepared against the Archmage’s nullifying field- and the general’s sword flew up uncontrollably, almost out of his hands. Blood continued to gush from the Archmage’s slit throat. The old man coughed and clutched at the wound with wild disbelief in his eyes as he toppled forward onto his face upon the stairs. The Staff of Elders abruptly ceased its spell and the oppressive force that had kept the magicians from their
