I hadn’t been in any sort of serious conflict since the end of the war with Gododdin two months past, yet it that time had left its mark upon me somehow… for I found myself enjoying the adrenaline. I smiled as the arrow shattered against my shield, savoring the look on the bowman’s face as he realized he was in more trouble than he was ready for. Since the man was immune to mind affecting spells I spoke again, sealing the door he had just passed through with another shield and as an afterthought I repeated the process to seal the doorway I had entered through as well.
I walked toward the guard… still smiling. He tried another arrow and seeing that fail drew his sword. With a flick of my wrist and a whispered word my magic ripped the blade from his grasp and sent it spinning through the air, only to have it return, pointing at him, scant inches from his face. “Turn around please,” I told him calmly. “Put your hands behind your back, I’d really rather not have to hurt you.”
The poor fellow was so unnerved he obeyed immediately. Drawing my dagger I cut the belt from his waist and used it to bind his hands. “Lie down on the floor,” I added and he readily complied. “Look, I understand you’re in an awkward situation here,” I told him conversationally. “You’re the only one conscious and now you’ve been tied up, uninjured and unbruised. It might look bad when they free you later. Would you like me to rough you up a bit? I’d rather not get you into trouble if I can avoid it.” I honestly meant every word as I said it, but apparently it was a bit too much for the guard. He moaned in an entirely unmanly manner and a moment later I smelled a distinct odor of urine.
“Aww… what the hell?” I said in dismay as I saw the stain spreading on the rich carpeting of the floor. Ignoring his loss of bladder control I took a moment to shatter his sword and rip up his clothes… perhaps that would be enough to keep him from being flogged later. I felt distinctly bad about it though as it only served to frighten him even further.
I left him then and headed through the doorway leading into the king’s private demesne. It led into a long corridor, richly decorated and with multiple doorways leading off in every direction. More guards were already heading my way, but none of them were stoics and I put them to sleep before they got anywhere near me. Since my disguise was no longer effective I dropped it.
Taking a second to focus I used my arcane senses to examine the rooms around me. The king’s quarters were a veritable warren of chambers, gardens, baths and bedrooms, but it took me only a moment to locate King Edward. He was waiting in his bedroom, sitting calmly at a side table. I have to give the man credit, he might be on the verge of assassination but he faced it with remarkable aplomb.
I followed a circuitous route to reach his bedroom door. I was tempted to knock down some walls and cut a direct path but I figured I should be more diplomatic. There were four men standing in the ante-chamber outside of his room but I didn’t let that worry me, they weren’t armed and seemed to be wearing nothing more than plain robes. I calmly opened the door to the sitting room and stepped inside. That was when all hell broke loose.
My eyes immediately confirmed what my mage-sight had already told me; these men were not armed or armored, but as soon as I entered light flared around them. Each one gained an aura, though they varied in color… silver, lavender, greenish gold and blue, these were devotees of the four shining gods. Channelers, great.
I was temporarily blinded as their power slammed into me, encasing my shield in coruscating light and nearly crushing me with its force. I should have expected something like this, I thought suddenly. Why hadn’t I brought my staff? I was trapped… it took nearly all my strength to keep my shield intact. As my senses adjusted I realized only three of them held me, while the third was concentrating on something. The look in his eyes told me it would be something unpleasant and I immediately remembered the spell I had once used to cut through my opponents shields. If he used something like that I would be cut in two. Shit.
Individually none of the channelers were powerful enough to be a real threat, but together they were perhaps more than I could handle. I had one advantage though, while they were used to handling power only on rare occasions, I dealt with it on a daily basis. As the free one focused on his spell I changed my shield from a spherical to a tear drop shape, using the force of my opponents grip to send me hurtling sideways.
I wasn’t a moment too soon, a flickering beam of green light sliced into the space where I had just been a moment before and cut through the stone walls behind me. As I went flying sideways the three who had held me were disoriented and lost their grip. That was all I needed.
The moment the forces against my shield let up I diverted my strength into a new spell, “ Pyrren ni’Tragen.” Flames exploded outward to engulf the entire room. Two of the men had been using all of their power to pin me, leaving them unable to maintain a shield to protect themselves. Their fate wasn’t pretty. The other two had been better able to balance their use of power and were instead merely flung backward by the force of the explosion.
One of them lost his focus and his shield disappeared after he struck a wall. Meanwhile I was already rising from the other side of the room where my shield tactic had tossed me. I didn’t bother to waste my power, I already had a stone in my hand and as I stood back up I breathed upon it sharply, “ Tielen striltos,” I said and it streaked across the room. The unshielded man’s head flew back and bits of blood and bone stained the walls.
I walked carefully across the room to the last man who was struggling to focus his power into an effective shield. Something about the clumsy way he wielded his magic made me laugh and a sickening laugh escaped my lips as I approached him. I focused my attention and encased him in a crushing bubble of pure force, much like the one they had used to pin me a moment before. His face went white with strain as he struggled to keep it from killing him. “You’re not having a very good day,” I told him with a smile.
He grimaced, “You cannot win. The gods are united against you.”
I increased the pressure on him a bit. He obviously had too much energy left for talking. “So they have decided to support the king against me?” I glanced around the room, noting the symbols on their robes… Doron, Karenth, Millicenth… all of the shining gods were represented here. Looking back to the man before me I saw the golden flame of Celior on his chest. “Why?” I asked.
The light of madness was shining in his eyes. “You are an abomination,” he said between clenched teeth. For a second I wondered what my own face had looked like as I had killed his three companions… at a guess I’d bet it hadn’t been much prettier. I am little better than them. Threaten me for a moment and I turn effortlessly into a merciless killer, I thought. A feeling of disgust passed over me but I didn’t lessen the pressure against his shield.
“If Celior has any messages for me now is the time to pass them along, you won’t get many more chances after this,” I responded emotionlessly.
His eyes shifted then and I could see them un-focusing as his god came to the fore. Simultaneously the strength of his shield increased three-fold, Celior wasn’t pulling his punches. “You bear Illeniel’s Doom mortal. You should die now and save yourself from suffering,” he replied. His voice now held the dulcet tones of his god.
“You’ll ruin your puppet if you push too hard Celior,” I rebuked him. Sweat was standing out on my brow now as I redoubled my effort to keep him pinned down.
“His life is mine to use as I wish,” the voice of the shining god responded. Blood was running freely from the man’s nose and ears now, as he was pressed far beyond his limit.
“You’re just like that bitch Millicenth aren’t you? No concern for the people who support you. Why are you really doing this? You should be helping us against the shiggreth, aiding us against the dark gods, against Mal’goroth!” I ground the words out from between clenched teeth.
Celior’s pawn was now wrapped in golden flames as the force of his god’s power overwhelmed his body’s limits. “You broke the accord, child of Illeniel; you will get no aid from us now. You must die before Illeniel’s Doom destroys us all.”
The power being forced through the man’s poor body was simply incredible but he was dying already. I felt myself trembling with effort as I kept him trapped and just as I thought I would surely collapse from the strain the god’s power fell off sharply and disappeared. I managed to stop myself before I crushed the channeler but it was a useless gesture, the man was already dead. His deity’s power had burned him up like a candle, thrown into a furnace; he had been spent in an instant. The sight of his body filled me with anger that we should be so carelessly used and tossed aside. It could have been Marcus just as easily as this man, lying here dead.
The anger was good though, it kept me strong. My struggle with Celior had left me exhausted in a way I hadn’t felt since the end of the war with Gododdin, yet I couldn’t afford to collapse here; I still had a meeting to attend after all. What the hell is the ‘Doom of Illeniel’? I wondered. It had sounded like doom with a capital ‘D’ when he had said it. I never get any good news from deities. It’s always absolutes and ultimatums, no wonder no one invites them to fancy dress balls, I thought to myself.
