Sword and the Spell 01: The Grey Robe (44 page)

"Give me yer sword, Jonderill," whispered
Perguine hoarsely. "I gotta end this abomination."

Jonderill handed him his sword with shaking hands and
watched as Perguine thrust it into the body of the nearest prisoner. The body
jerked and the mouth worked as if it was forming a terrible scream but when
Perguine withdrew the sword it was bloodless and the body resumed its puppet
like twitching. Jonderill turned away in disgust and then moaned in anguish and
dropped to his knees, clutching his head as silent screams reverberated through
his skull.

"That's all we need," spat Pellum harshly.
"The serving boy on his knees having hysterics."

Perguine knelt next to the shaking Jonderill. "Look,
I knows it's bad but this aint goin' to 'elp us get out of 'ere."

Jonderill looked up, his eyes wide and frightened.
"He’s alive, Garrin's still alive, all of them are still alive, can't you
hear them scream?"

"No, mate, but I guess yer can." Perguine
stepped back and stared at Jonderill in fascination.

Through the screams a familiar voice whispered through
Jonderill's mind and he turned his attention back to Garrin's corpse watching
as its lips moved to form words. "Jonderill, who was like a son to me.
Maladran has called on magic beyond the grave to take our spirits and now uses
our souls for his own evil purposes. We are all dead but he doesn’t let us die.
You must do that, you must release us."

"I don't know how," whispered Jonderill,
ignoring Perguine's startled look as he started talking to himself.

“You must destroy what we have become,” whispered the
voice in his head.

"I cannot," said Jonderill, horrified at the
thought of what he was being asked to do.

"If you have ever loved me you must, you cannot
leave me or them like this."

Jonderill looked desperately at Pellum and Perguine
but it was obvious they couldn’t hear the tortured screams or Garrin's plea for
help. Reluctantly he pulled his knife from his belt and before either of them
could stop him he pushed the blade deep into Garrin's chest and twisted it
until his heart came free. The body jerked in its chains and Garrin's agonised
screams filled his head. He closed his eyes to block out the sight of what he
had done.

"You dirty son of a whore!" shouted Pellum.
He launched himself at Jonderill but Perguine held him back. "What sort of
dirt crawler would mutilate the body of a helpless prisoner? You're worse than
the bloody magician."
 
He spat at Jonderill
and turned away in disgust.

Jonderill ignored the irate prince and holding the
heart as far away from him as possible he laid it on the stone slab, took the
sword away from Perguine and cut the heart in two. Black blood seeped from the
severed organ, burning into the stone and pitting the hardened iron blade. He
watched in horror as the remains of the heart writhed, shrank and then
disappeared. Garrin's body gave one final jerk and then hung limp in its
chains.

"Gods! do we 'ave to do that for all of
'em?"

Jonderill shook his head, hardly able to speak.
"No. I think Maladran has their hearts. The only thing we can do is to
destroy the stone creatures they have become and hope that their hearts will
die with them."

Perguine looked at him in disbelief and then at the
one fortunate dead man before he understood what Jonderill was saying.

"Now you've finished with your little display of
bravado, can we get out of here?" Pellum demanded.

“Ow we goin’ ter do that, smart arse?”

Pellum didn’t answer but just scowled at the thief
leaving Jonderill to walk slowly around the room looking for a door that didn’t
appear to exist. He walked around the stone slab twice, as if he was oblivious
to their urgent need to escape or their imminent danger. At the far side of the
stone where the stain of dried blood was the darkest he stopped, leant down and
lifted a metal grid from the floor, grimacing at the foul smell.

“Apart from the way we came in I think there’s only
one other way out and I guess people aren’t usually alive when they take it.” He
pointed down at the dark hole in the floor. “That's probably how Maladran
disposes of his prisoners unwanted bodies and down there, amongst them, is our
means of escape."

The others peered down into the darkness but none of them
spoke.

~
  
~
  
~
  
~
  
~

The True Queen

    
Maladran
screamed in anger and frustration as his stone warriors threw themselves
against the barred door to the lower cavern where his darkest magics were
worked. He’d felt the intruder break and destroy his warding like a physical
pain but worse still was the agony at the sudden death of his soul slave. Such
things should have been impossible for anyone who hadn’t studied dark magic and
yet this intruder had used his power almost carelessly.

Once again he removed the black silk from the scrying
stone and transferred his waning power from animating his creatures to locating
the source of the power ranged against him. Outside the cavern door the stone
creatures became still allowing him to easily locate the alien magic in the
darkness beneath the tower. He gasped in shock and realised he had
underestimated his adversary as a glowing nimbus moved through the dark, solid
rock towards the cave exit where sly hunters came to feast on the tower's dead.

It would be a fitting end for the intruders to become
bait for the sly hunters which ranged at the forest edge but the scavengers had
recently fed too well and couldn’t be relied upon to attack. He needed something
more certain to ensure that the user of strange magic was totally destroyed and
his companions along with him. It would be exhausting but there was nothing for
it but to send his stone warriors into the kill before the source of power and
the freed prisoners could escape.

He replaced the black silk square and returned to the
circle of stone caskets. Apart from one each heart beat slowly as if at rest
but on his command their rhythm increased, beating with the same pulse as if
each heart had been encased in flesh instead of stone. Below the tower the
stone creatures once again jerked into movement and responded to Maladran’s command,
turning away from the door where they had waited for his power to reanimate
them and charging back up the stairs to the tower’s open door.

Their given mission was clear as they retraced their
steps up through the tower and out into the windswept darkness of the high crag.
Sure footed despite their size and build, they ran down the steep track of the
rocky pinnacle with stones scattering beneath their pounding feet. They bounced
over the jagged rocks like it was smooth stone as they raced towards the cave's
entrance, their only intent to capture or kill the fugitives.

Each bestial face was drawn back in a savage snarl and
long snouts tested the air, searching for their quarry. The first monster to
pick up the scent of their prey let out a fiendish howl, more chilling than any
pack of sly hunters, and was instantly taken up by the others so that their cry
reverberated through the night.

The first howl was lost on Jonderill as he staggered
from the cave’s entrance, one arm supporting the semi-conscious Jarrul and the
other clasped over his mouth and nose in an effort to filter out the stench of
their nightmare descent from the tower. The opening in the cavern floor had
immediately dropped away from the metal grid by the height of a man and after
that it had wound downwards so steeply in places it had been almost vertical.

More than once they had been forced to drop through
darkness into the unknown but that had been the easy part. When the tunnel ran
horizontally, Jonderill had been forced to use elemental fire to guide them
around the decomposing remains of the tower's dead until they could scramble
from the caves entrance into the blessed relief of the night air.

Gasping for breath, Jonderill propped Jarrul up by the
cave wall and then vomited until his sides ached with the effort and his throat
burned with bile. Still the smell of rotting flesh would not leave his nose or
mouth or the sight of dismembered limbs and mutilated corpses leave his memory.
Neither Perguine nor Pellum were in any better state and he almost envied
Jarrul who had lost consciousness for most of the nightmare journey.

He was still wiping the sickness from his mouth onto
the back of his hand when the unearthly howling cut across his numbness like a
knife. There was no need for him to see the creatures that made the noise to
know they weren’t far behind or that there was no way the three of them could
stop the creatures or defend themselves. It was simple; outrunning them was
their only chance.

With a grimace he finished wiping his sticky mouth on
the back of his sleeve. "Let's go, we’ve got to outrun them and lose them
in the forest.” He heaved Jarrul into a standing position, pushing his shoulder
beneath the injured man's arm and for a moment took all his weight.
"Pellum, you take Jarrul's other side, you're taller than Perguine so we’ll
be able to move faster."

"Not on your life!" snapped Pellum.
"Those things are right behind us. If you want to be a hero you take him,
I've enough to do getting myself out of here.

Pellum turned and ran, jumping over the loose stones
at the cave's mouth and sprinting across the open scrubland which separated the
rocky outcrop from the forest edge. Perguine muttered a foul imprecation under
his breath and thrust his shoulder beneath Jarrul's free arm, giving what help
his slight height and build could provide. They ran with Jarrul stumbling
between them and made it half way across the scrub before they could feel the
first vibrations through the ground of the stone monsters’ pounding run. The
moon skipped behind fleeting clouds and Jonderill glanced over his shoulder to
see the pack gaining on them, moving fast enough to take them down before they
reached the forest edge.

"Leave me," hissed Jarrul through
pain-clenched teeth.

Jonderill had no breath for words and Perguine was in
an even worse state, breathing so hard that his breath came in loud gasps and
the tendons in his neck stood out like knotted rope. Calling on the reserves of
strength which fear lends to the hunted, Jonderill spurred forward, widening
the gap enough for them to plunge through the thinly spaced trees at the edge
of the forest a bare dozen paces ahead of their pursuers. He charged forward to
where the trees thickened, oblivious to raised roots and trailing brambles
underfoot. His only awareness was of the crashing sound of stone feet smashing
through the undergrowth behind him and his own rasping breath.

As the forest began to thicken a spark of hope gave
him extra strength and he increased his speed again but Perguine had reached
his limits and his legs buckled beneath him. Suddenly burdened with Jarrul's
full weight Jonderill stumbled and crashed to the forest floor, releasing his
grip at the last moment so that the injured hunter had the chance to break his
own fall. Jonderill landed on hands and knees, driving sharp twigs and dried
thorns into his hands in a sudden flash of pain. Within seconds he was on his
feet again and dragging Jarrul upright. He caught a glimpse of Perguine diving
through the bushes ahead of him with the speed of a bush skimmer and then he
was gone.

"Save yourself," pleaded Jarrul.
"There's nothing you can do now."

Jonderill didn’t bother to reply but grabbed the
hunter's wrists and shouldered him in the stomach so, that for a moment he went
limp, allowing Jonderill to heave him over his shoulder. His legs shook enough
to collapse under the weight of his helpless burden but Jonderill forced them to
steadiness and started to run into the thickest, darkest part of the forest,
illuminated only by intermittent moonlight.

He could hear the creatures pounding behind him,
gaining on him despite the denseness of the woodland but that was not all. To
each side of him he could now hear the crashing of undergrowth as more powerful
creatures forced a pathway around him. Then they were ahead of him, in amongst
the trees and blocking his escape; he was surrounded.

Staggering under Jarrul's weight, Jonderill broke
through into a small clearing no more than a dozen paces in diameter and
dropped his burden in the centre of the circle. Knowing his situation was
hopeless he drew his sword and waited, determined they should both die rather
than be taken back to be cruelly used by Maladran's magic. A savage howl behind
him and a splintering of wood made him spin around to face the first of the
creatures as it ripped bushes and trees aside to get to him.

The stone creature rushed forward, its short, massive
legs driving it across the clearing in a matter of moments. It pulled back its
lips in a horrifying grin of triumph and revealed pointed canine teeth the size
of a man's finger. That was where Jonderill aimed, smashing his blade broadside
into the creature’s mouth and shattering a tusk and front canines. The creature
howled in shock and hesitated in its forward charge whilst it shook broken
teeth from its mouth.

It was a moment’s respite only as the creature leapt
for Jonderill's throat, its large muscular hands clamping down on Jonderill's
shoulder at the base of his neck. Jonderill staggered back under the creature's
weight and momentum and swung the sword around onto the back of the creature’s
skull. The angle was too tight to deliver a blow with much force and only a
small piece of stone chipped away but the beast still clung on, snapping its
terrible broken teeth at Jonderill's face.

Again Jonderill brought the blade crashing down broadside
onto the creature's skull this time chipping out a larger piece of rock. The
animal howled and loosened its grip on Jonderill's shoulder in an effort to
protect itself. Once his shoulder was free of the crushing hold, Jonderill
could swing the sword with greater freedom. He brought the blade down once
more, completely shattering the skull of the creature with its impact. Stone
scattered in all directions and the creature's bestial howl was instantly cut
short as it crumpled to the ground in a pile of rubble.

His victory was short-lived as another of Maladran's
creatures lunged forward to attack Jarrul, who had no means of defence except
his bloody arms and damaged hands. The creature landed on Jarrul's chest and
ploughed downwards towards his throat with its long tusks, crumpling Jarrul's
resistance beneath its weight. There was only one chance to stop the creature so
Jonderill dropped his sword and grabbed the stone boulder which had once been his
attacker's forehead.

In two steps he was where Jarrul fought a losing
battle to hold the monster off and brought the stone down with all the force he
could muster. Both stones shattered under the impact and Jarrul's attacker
crumpled into a pile of sharp-edged rock. Jonderill pulled the injured man to
his feet, ready to defend him but he knew the situation was hopeless as the
remaining nine creatures charged into the clearing together.

He grabbed for his sword and held it at the ready
whilst he supported Jarrul with his other arm, swallowing his rising panic as
the fearsome creatures swarmed towards them at a run. They waited for the
crushing impact of the creatures’ bodies but instead the beasts ran passed them
and into the forest on the other side. Five wild horsemen charged after the
creatures, brandishing newly cut branches to use as clubs.

The slowest of the beasts, the one with just one arm,
was overtaken before it reached the trees and its head exploded into shards as
the leading horseman removed it from its thick neck with a powerful blow.
Neither horse nor rider paused but continued onwards to chase their quarry
through the forest until each of them had been ridden down and destroyed.

Another group of horsemen clattered into the clearing
and Perguine slid off the back of a shared mount and almost threw himself at
Jarrul. "Yer all righ’ old son?" he asked anxiously.

Jarrul nodded. "I'll be fine, thanks to this man.
That's twice he's saved my life.

Perguine gave Jonderill a toothy grin. "Thanks, I
owes yer one."

"I thought you’d left us?" responded
Jonderill in confusion.

"Now woulds I do such a fing?" He gave
Jonderill an impish look which made him appear even more like a weasel. "I
'ad to go an' get us some
 
‘elp otherwise
we’d all 'ave been dead meat an' as me mates were all waitin' for me ter
signal, I thought I'd better let'um in on the action."

"You mean they have been here all the time?"

"'Course they 'ave, yer don't think I was a
'untin' down all that there food by meself did yer? Gawd man, I's a thief an' a
pick pocket, not an 'untsman like me friend Jarrul 'ere."

“Then why didn't they attack the tower in force
instead of letting us risk our necks?"

"'Cause it aint the sort of place yer can charge
up to an' bang on the door for admittance. Yer said as much yerself,
remember?"

"I know but there was only the two of us
then."

"It still wouldn't have worked with an entire
army behind you," said the rider who had ridden up quietly behind
Jonderill. "I suspect Maladran had spells around the place to repel any
open assault so it had to be one or two people who went into the tower getting
under his defences, which was why you were chosen."

Jonderill swung around to face the speaker, annoyed
that he'd been so casually used by someone else. He opened his mouth to say as
much and then stopped.

"Hello Jonderill," said Tarraquin, smiling
down at him.

"Lady Tarraquin! I thought you were dead!"

She laughed and slipped from her horse, giving
Jonderill an embrace which held a touch more of affection than it did of just
friendship. "Do I look as though I’m dead?"