She Who Has No Name

his staff heavily, directing the battle more than anything.

‘Samuel!’ he called wearily. ‘How relieved I am to see you. Quickly! Help us plug this nest of accursed Paatin.’

Samuel dropped the woman’s hand and took a step forward, then realised what he would have to do. Only with the Argum Stone on his finger could he tap the ether and gather magic for his bidding, but in this small room, the outcome could be disastrous.

‘What are you waiting for, Magician?’ Doonan cried from beside him, looking up with concern.

The Paatin were now filling the courtyard like sand spilling through a crack and the Turians began losing ground as they began to fall before the superior numbers of the savage caped desert-men.

‘Stand back,’ he told the two beside him and he took another step and drew the ring from his pocket, holding it before him with his other hand readied to receive it. ‘I’m ready,’ he said softly, only to reassure himself.

He was about to put the ring on his finger when something sharp struck him. A stabbing pain crippled him in the back of the leg and Samuel tumbled over.The ring!Itwas all he could think as he lost grip on the thing and it fell from his grasp. Before he could struggle to his feet or determine what had felled him, a weight leapt upon his chest and another pain ripped between his ribs. Doonan was there, sitting upon him, grinning savagely and holding up his bloodied dagger.

The pain was blinding and Samuel could not help but scream aloud. It took him a few moments before he could gather his sense enough to subdue the feeling, cutting off all sensation that assaulted his mind, using his magician’s discipline. He blinked his eyes and tried to refocus his watery vision.

‘Why?’ he asked of the dwarf who satonhim. His lips felt numb and he almost felt as if he was floating behind his own face; such was the effect of subduing his senses to such a degree.

‘Another test for you, Magician,’ was all the horrid little man would say as he wiped his knife clean on Samuel’s cloak. ‘Survive this, and you will be ready. Die and you were never right in the first place. All I can say is,I hope it’s the latter. You really are a pain.’

‘Balten?’ he asked, groggily, oblivious to the fighting still going on all around him.

But Doonan only laughed. ‘There are some things that even he is not aware of, Magician. My orders come from Cang. Perhaps you will live to take the matter up with him, someday. Then again-perhaps not.’

The Koian woman stood stiffly near the doorway, holding her hands clasped to her chest. She did not look so much afraid, as somehow revolted at the sight of Samuel’s blood.

‘Oh, I doubt she has the sense to help you, Magician, but she is welcome to try,’ the dwarf said. ‘I’ve never seen such a sorry excuse for a human being. I would stab her, too, but she looks hardly worth the effort.’

Doonan then got off him and trotted out of view, leaving Samuel writhing in his own blood upon the slippery floor. The clanging of steel and shouts echoed in his ears and it was not until he heard his name being called that he arched his head and looked upside down towards the battle. Grand Master Tudor was shouting his name desperately and trying to fight his way through the Paatin to reach him,swinging his staff wildly and imbuing it with mage-fire that sent Paatin warriors flying like flicked crumbs from a breakfast plate. But the old man’s magic was already thin and the Paatin were thick about him like flies to a bloody sore.

Samuel managed to roll over onto his chest, but that was about as much effort as he could muster. His lifeblood was spilling from him much too fast and he felt he would not survive much longer. Without his magic, there was no way to heal himself. There, just out of reach, his salvation lay in a slender silver ring. He clawed his hand out towards it, but no matter how much he strained, his fingers only trembled on the stones, barely a nail’s length short.

‘Master-’ Samuel heard himself mutter, for he was trying to call someone, but he could not quite remember whom. Boots jostled about him and several times he felt himself being kicked roughly and stomped upon. Whether it was purposeful or just that the Turians and Paatin were heedless of his presence, Samuel was not in the mind to consider. He could only lie with his chin on the stones and look blankly at the figures struggling all around him as they became dark and fuzzy shadows of themselves.

Time seemed to act strangely from that point on. There was a flash of darkness and a flash of light and, in what seemed like only seconds later, Samuel opened his eyes to find himself standing upright in the middle of the courtyard. Some time must have actually passed, for the courtyard was now empty. The entire scene had changed dramatically, save for the god-woman still standing mute by the doorway. There was no sign of the battle and all was quiet, bar the distant shouts of battle from elsewhere in the citadel. Even the bodies of the battle had been cleared away as if everyone had cleaned up and moved on, ignoring him in his place on the floor.

The Argum Stone was on his finger after all, arcing silver fire and his wounds were all healed. Wearing the ring did have a way of disorienting him, so Samuel pulled it off and cast it back into its place in his pocket, wondering what could possibly have occurred. His mind was still tingling and confused from the infusion of power. All he could think was that he must have somehow reached the ring and healed himself.

‘What happened?’ he asked the Koian woman, but she only looked back at him blankly.

‘They are gone,’ was all she croaked.

Samuel scratched his head. ‘Then we must find them.’ He scanned the room once more, now eyeing the swords and shields and abandoned armour scattered across the floor. A length of wood was lying in the corner of the room, poking out from a pile of cloth, and he was about to have a look when Doonan came tiptoeing into the courtyard towards him, peering around the edge of the doorway.

When the little man saw Samuel and the woman, he squeaked with fear. ‘Argh!’ he cried and turned on the spot, darting away.

‘Why you little monster!’ Samuel swore and started after the dwarf, grabbing the god-woman’s hand as he passed and dragging her along with him.

‘A demon! A monster!’ came the cries of Doonan from ahead, but the sounds abruptly stopped with a screech.

Samuel only had to round the next corner to see what had happened. A cluster of Paatin waswaiting there and one already had his boot on Doonan’s corpse,trying to pull his sword out of the little man’s chest with some difficulty.

‘Infernal savages!’ cried Balten, coming from the other way along the passage, and he cut the desert-men down with a storm of twisting sparks.

He looked at Doonan for a moment, as if genuinely concerned, but it was fleeting, and he turned to Samuel. ‘This way.’

‘Have you seen the Grand Master?’ Samuel asked him. ‘He must have come this way.’

Balten considered his answer momentarily. ‘No, but the citadel is lost.’

‘He tried to kill me,’ Samuel said, pointing to the dead midget.

Balten looked truly puzzled. ‘I don’t know why. That was not part of my instructions.’

‘Then it’s something I will need to bring up with yourMaster when I meet him. Now, I must get back to General Mar. Can you lead her out of here safely? It’s too dangerous here.’

‘If that is what you wish, Samuel,’ Balten replied, and he winced, showing weakness for the first time that Samuel had known the man. There was a tear in his coat and a dark stain around it. ‘As you can see, I am injured- Om-rah escaped, but I managed to give him a few wounds of his own to go and lick. Unfortunately, his blood has poisoned me, but it’s nothing I cannot withstand. I have enough strength left to take her to safety, but I will need to rest before I am much use.’

‘Very well.’ Samuel then turned to the god-woman. ‘Go with Balten, back to the others.’ He turned again to Balten. ‘I seem to have accrued more than my fair share of debt with you.’

‘Be that as it may, I do what I must.’

With that, Balten left, granting the girlintow no more gentleness than had Samuel. Her eyes,still devoid of any expression,trailed upon Samuel as she was dragged away.

Samuelhastenedoff again. It seemed as if this night would never end, and he had traversed up and down the height of the citadel more times than he cared to recall. It was worrying that he could not sense the old Grand Master anywhere nearby, but it was easy for one man, even one as powerful as old Tudor, to become lost amongst the energies of so many others. As he clambered along, he felt two other familiar magicians nearby and he began calling out for them.

‘Eric!’ he called and,for once,it was convenient to have two friends with the one name.

The two of them came rushing in toward him. They both were drenched with sweat and covered in blood.