Mud and Magic Ch. 15

Haloryth used Rhys' hand to wave the apology away. "That's not necessary. Grave injuries tend to cloud a person's judgment. Maybe I did go a bit overboard. Truce?"

Rhys chuckled. "If time permits, we should come up with some plans for these life-or-death moments. How's Chassari?"

"Alive and well. She has found the perfect angle of attack." Haloryth looked around. "Where's Borna?"

Rhys sighed. "She scratched me inadvertently and is back to being her old grumpy self." He sighed. "I really liked her softer side."

"And the things you did in bed together, going by the stirring below your belt," Haloryth observed. "I'll help you look." As swiftly as she had entered his body, the ghost was gone.

Rhys caught Elara looking at him expectantly. "Haloryth?" she simply asked.

"Yah. How did you know?"

The elf grinned. "There's a particular look on your face when she rides you, a mixture of wonder and annoyance. What's it she wants now?"

"Oh. Saves me a bit of explaining then." Rhys turned east and followed the tracks. "She said Chassari is waiting for us at the perfect staging point and she wants to help find Borna." He noticed his ring flaring brightly. Three pinpricks of light swirled in the green crystal the ring was carved from. "She's close."

A moment later, a nearby wooden wall exploded outward with inhuman force and a body slid across the way. A sword clattered from limp fingers and ended up in front of Rhys' feet. Borna came through the hole in the wall like a vengeful demon, her tail taking out more of the rotten boards framing the hole. "Leave me alone," she growled.

Squealing in terror, Ren, son of Karl, self-proclaimed protector of the village came to his feet. His fading tunic, now mud-spattered, had deep gashes in it but the skin underneath seemed unharmed. The bearded man ran past Rhys as quickly as his feet would carry him, even forgetting his ever-present sword.

"Don't start," Borna growled. "He tried to attack me while I dressed." She indicated her tattered coat, the frayed gashes in it slowly growing back together. "A friendly 'bugger off' didn't work, so I tossed him against the wall. How should I know they build with matchsticks instead of decent boards?"

Rhys felt a pang of unbidden memories stir, how he had inadvertently punched a hole in the stable wall with a pitchfork-turned-lightning bolt back on the farm. Feeling the eyes of unseen onlookers on him, he placed both hands on the rotting wood making up the remainder of the shed and invoked his magic, urging the boards to mend and strengthen. There was a strange croak and the smell of sap as his Repair spell coaxed the wood to grow and sprout. A few heartbeats later, the hole was gone. In its place were strong, bright planks which looked like they had been cut mere moments ago.

"Total waste of energy, if you ask me. Tearing down and rebuilding the whole thing would be much more efficient," Borna grumbled.

"It's the thought which counts," Rhys said, brushing sawdust off his hands. "Besides, we don't have time to build a shed from scratch. What happened in there anyway?"

Borna growled. "Told you already. I wanted to dress in peace, this piece of shit turns up, waves his sword in my face and proclaims he's gonna smite me all righteous-like. Behaved as if I had personally taken his firstborn's virginity or something."

"And you had to toss him through a wall? Ever heard of 'deescalation?" Haloryth said, disbelief in her voice.

"She can't hear you, remember?" Rhys told the elven spirit, earning an exasperated sigh from the translucent girl.

"At least you didn't hurt him," Elara said. "Let's be off before he finds his courage again. And some friends."

"Yeah, let's. I'm sick and tired of backwater villages," the demon princess snarled. "You know where to go, Rhys?"

Rhys pulled the softly clanging metal ball Chassari had given him the previous evening from his pouch. "I should be able to find Chassari with this. Whatever it is." He cast around for something to use as a scrying mirror. There was an almost empty bucket next to the shed which had just enough water to create an even, reflective surface. It rippled as he cast his Scrying magic, the metal ball tinkling in his fingers and his ring glowing with the light of three nearby friends.

Within a heartbeat or two he found Chassari. The purple snake-headed woman sat in a tree, a majestic oak overlooking the scintillating crater lake. Rhys moved his magical 'eye' around and saw the rocky plateau from which the tree grew. Skyview Castle was seemingly just an arm's length away and even from below the tree, Rhys could easily watch most of the courtyard and battlements. The castle was roughly triangular, with stubby turrets connecting the walls which in turn protected a small keep and several other buildings. The tower where he had seen Celeste and Faedal talk poked from the keep like an extended finger from a blocky fist. He ended the spell. "Hold on, everyone."

Borna flinched away from his outstretched hand. Elara clasped Rhys' fingers instead and touched Borna's armored thigh. "For a claw-studded, stinger-wielding monster you're one hell of a chicken," the elf gently chided her. Before Borna could retort, Rhys finished his Teleport. The world went sideways.

* * * *

"I wasss wondering where you got stuck," Chassari hissed. With incredible ease, she snaked down from her vantage point high in the oak's crown. Down one final limb she tumbled, landing on her feet perfectly balanced.

"Don't ask," Borna growled, pointedly taking a step away from a grinning Elara.

"I'll tell you later when this is all over," Rhys said.

"Let's just say we should pick some other route on our way back," Elara said. "The locals didn't exactly like us."

"Even though we did nothing wrong!" Rhys complained. He sighed then turned his attention to more urgent matters. "How were things on your end?"

"Ulrich was wonderful company for the mile or ssso we walked together. He vanished into the darknesss like a shadow."

"On a pale horse?" Rhys asked.

"No. He sssaid 'good bye,' invoked sssomething and wasss gone. Ssstill, I work best alone anyway." Chassari stretched then turned to face the castle. "Faedal runsss a tight ssship. His guards patrol regularly at all hoursss and there are no obviousss gapsss in his perimeter."

"Haloryth said you have the perfect angle of attack," Rhys shaded his eyes and squinted at the castle. A moment later, Chassari slapped a brass-clad spy glass against his other hand. He used it to take a closer look.

"The rear turret. As you can sssee, the battlements meet there and we have ssseveral waysss to get down to the courtyard. Where did you say Celeste was being held?"

"Unless they moved her she should in the big tower. But without a scrying bowl, it will be hard to be sure."

"Let'sss hope our diversion will give usss enough time to find her," Chassari said.

Rhys stared through the spy glass. "Not much happening at the pier."

Chassari beamed. "Still, there are a few casks of lamp oil in the warehouse to the left of the path and I might have placed several... surprises around the area while I had a look lassst night." She rubbed her hands excitedly. "They will certainly hear when Thurguz rainsss down fires from the heavens."

"Hopefully they're awake already," Rhys muttered. Quietly, he cast a Message spell. "Thurguz, can you hear me?"

* * * *

"Aye lad, you're coming through clear enough," the half-orc wizard said. Using the levers hanging above his enchanted far-seeing table, he honed in on where the spell touching him emanated from. The circular shape of the Skyview crater lake filled the crystal panes in front of him, reflecting a slate-gray winter sky. "How are things?"

"Well enough. We're in position to strike. A little fire from the heavens would be nice."

The old man suppressed a sigh of relief. When Rhys hadn't called the day before, he had wondered if the whole mission had already gone tits up. Hearing Rhys wide awake and focused alleviated some of the misgivings he'd harbored. Baring his tusks in a silent grin, Thurguz touched a slip of parchment he had fixed to his table with a stoppered inkwell. The rune scrawled on it lit up in purple sparks and a small chime rang. A similar sound would go off near Idunn, telling her to make haste to his side.

"While we wait for the others, how about you tell me what happened yesterday? Didn't you say you just wanted to make 'a little detour' before going to Skyview?"

"Long story, Master," Rhys said. "And best told in private. Let's just say the detour cost us dearly and we had to hunker down for the night to heal. And since I was one of those who got hurt rather badly, I wasn't exactly able to report back in."

"We should make some kind of Message device standard issue for all field agents," the half-orc muttered. "Once this madness has passed, I'll think about it."

He drummed his fingers on the table. "Where exactly do you want the fireworks to go off?" he asked.

"Can you see the pier and warehouse near the lake?"

Thurguz manipulated the levers for direction and zoom factor until he had a clear view on the small dock jutting into the lake. "Pretty fancy," he observed. "Back when we held the castle, we didn't bother with shipping supplies across the lake."

"Considering the size of Faedal's garrison, I can see the value in it," Rhys said. "And let's not forget his... playthings. Chassari said there were cages in the warehouse, big enough for half a dozen captives."

"One more reason to level the place. How busy is it?"

"Apart from two guards making sporadic walks down to the front of the pier and back it's deserted. For which I'm somewhat thankful."

"Getting cold feet? Don't forget, these people work willingly with the man who kidnapped and raped your little sister."

"I know, I know." Rhys sighed. "But I'm tired of all this killing already. One side has to stop first."

"An honorable thought but..."

Behind him, the door to his study opened. Thurguz glanced over his shoulder. Idunn and Lishaka came in, the dwarf guiding the sleepy-eyed goblin across the threshold. Idunn didn't look much better, her usually tan skin pallid and creased from worries and lack of sleep.

"Is it time?" Idunn asked. "I hate to leave Zentam alone."

"He's not alone. You left Galdor with him," Lishaka muttered.

The dwarven sorceress gnashed her teeth. "I'm not there to help if his condition worsens," she clarified, taking up position at the table across from Thurguz.

Thurguz' meaty paw indicated a spot for Lishaka. The goblin took it, the third point in a perfect triangle around the table.

"Galdor can use healing potions," she said. "Zentam will be fine for the next... how long is this gonna-" A huge yawn nearly bisected Lishaka's face.

"If we get the spell going this morning, not longer than fifteen minutes," Thurguz said, handing out neatly rolled-up scrolls. "Read this and memorize the words," he added.

"We'll teleport in once the fireworks start," Rhys said. "And please, if Lishaka is listening - can we talk once I'm back? Without you trying to kill me?"

"I should make him do jumping jacks or grovel or something," Lishaka grumbled, fiddling with her scroll.

"Just say 'yes,'" Idunn stage-whispered, eyes on the complicated runes in front of her.

"Okay. We'll talk. Better bring your best reasons for me not turning you into a pumpkin!" Lishaka crowed. "And be careful. I can't turn you into a pumpkin when you're dead!"

"Understood. I'll go quiet now. And... thanks, all of you."

"Stop with the theatrics, lad," Thurguz grumbled. "Just make sure Celeste doesn't slip your grasp. And don't mess with Faedal."

The Message spell fizzled out. Shaking his head, Thurguz unfurled his own scroll and checked the runes. "Everyone ready?" he asked aloud.

"What am I going to cast where exactly?" Lishaka asked. "This reads like the biggest Fireball I've ever seen."

Thurguz used a crank above the table. The levers moved up and to the side, revealing a slender stalk hanging from the ceiling. A perfect crystal sphere dangled below it. "Try to hit this," he said, pointing upwards.

"Let me guess. It will be my final mistake if I miss?" the goblin asked, stifling another yawn.

"Not just yours. Everybody in a half-mile radius will regret your poor aim," Idunn said. "Isn't that a bit much, Thurguz?"

The half-orc grinned viciously. "I've waited thirty years for this bit of payback. Once the spell has crossed the distance, there won't be much left, even with three of them combined. We'll be lucky if the whole pier lights up. It would be a great help if we could launch all three fireballs at once. Are we ready?"

Two nods were all the answer he needed. He tapped his boot on the wooden floor, setting a comfortable tempo for the recitation to follow. As one, they raised their voices and their hands. Around them, motes of energy gathered, swirling in a constantly thickening stream through the study, shaped and guided by their ritualistic casting. After a few moments, three roiling balls of infernal heat hovered over their heads. Still they chanted on, adding more and more power, enlarging the deadly spheres until the gathered mystical force was almost too much to handle.

In unison, half-orc, dwarf and goblin raised their voices one final time, tossing their hands towards the glinting crystal sphere hovering above the table. The mammoth fireballs crashed into it - but instead of detonating and leveling the tower, the crystal absorbed them, turning a blinding red-gold in the process. The whole tower shook as strange arcane circuitry lit up for the first time in decades and a roaring eruption of devastating magic arced towards the south-east.

"It didn't go 'boom' yet," Lishaka croaked, hoarse from the ritual.

"No one said anything about instantaneous delivery," Thurguz said. He pulled a water pitcher from under the table and poured Lishaka a cup. "Give it a moment."

The goblin took the cup and drank greedily, her eyes glued to the shimmering image in the table.

* * * *

Wisps of fine white dust were all that remained from his latest victim. Faedal shook the last crumbs off his hands and sighed as he rose, feeling his arousal flicker and die. He felt someone's gaze on his back. "Do you think it wise to sneak up on me while I'm feeding?" he growled.

"Do you think it wise thinning our ranks for your amusement?" The voice belonged to Iorek, his latest second-in-command. Faedal gnashed his teeth. The man had too much initiative for his own good. And he talks too much. He turned around, facing the armored man leaning in the doorway to the small chapel. Iorek didn't seem to be the least bit perturbed by his naked, blood-spattered superior or the general carnage in the chapel. Puddles of gore, rotting viscera and torn clothing made the room look like a slaughterhouse, the only hint at its main function the small altar bearing a bronze cup held aloft by life-sized hands bound together at the wrist with thorny ropes.

"We're fresh out of innocent souls around here," Faedal said softly. "Until the raiding party returns, I'll have to make do with what we have."

"We have a village in easy reach," Iorek said, gesturing in the general direction of the nameless goat-herder settlement a day away.

Faedal sighed again, reaching for his loincloth. "You're new, so I'll explain this slowly. Whatever remains of the village's population is anything but desirable for me right now. They will need time to whelp more offspring and they can't do it if all their woman-folk either scream, faint or retch at the mere sight of a naked dick in their vicinity." He wound the garment around his hips and eyed Iorek intently. "Don't think I have forgotten that little 'initiation' you had some of your men perform last month. I do approve of raping and pillaging as you know but your men did go a bit overboard."

Iorek snorted. "They gave them women a good cocking. Give it nine months and there will be lots more babies for you to eat."

Faedal draped his shirt around his body "Not likely if their village crone handed out certain herbal elixirs to abort them. Which would render the 'good cocking' of half the village kinda pointless." He grabbed his pants. "At least the men are docile for the moment."

"What about that Mercy cleric you keep locked up in the tower?" Iorek suggested.

Faedal cinched his belt closed and picked up his boots. He walked around the blood puddles and joined Iorek at the door. "Watching her squirm before me was entertaining for what it was but her usefulness nears its end. I did learn a great deal about my divine Mistress from her though." Faedal shook his head. "Never thought she would be this... petty."

Iorek's eyes lit up. "Well, if you don't want her any more..." The broad-shouldered soldier made a lewd gesture.

Faedal chuckled. "I'm not so sure you'd enjoy your time with her. She's broken. My Mistress saw to it. Only has a particularly aggravating farm boy on her mind." Faedal gnashed his teeth. Everything loops back to this Rhys boy, over and over again. I should rid myself of him - but there are more pressing issues, like visiting some payback upon my former lord and master. A betrayal like his has to be avenged and I'll gladly see to it myself.

He shot Iorek a sidelong glance. "I have the nagging suspicion that throwing her to the men would only thin our ranks even more." He clapped Iorek's shoulder, urging his lieutenant to walk with him. The fallen paladin strode briskly up the corridor, towards his quarters.

"You didn't come all the way to the chapel to chat about my feeding habits and your pillaging exploits, now did you?" Faedal asked, sitting down at a table piled high with maps and books. Watching Iorek, he put on his boots.

"No, sir. I was wondering what will happen now that you're no longer allied with Lord Carver."

Faedal dropped his booted foot to the floorboards with a bang. "I'll tell you what we're going to do," he said. "The moment we're done here, you will set up two units of reliable men and send them along the coast. One unit of recruiters will visit every town, hamlet, farm, every single logging cabin it can find and throw gold at gullible, able bodies itching for fame, glory and battle."

"And the other?"

"Hire them out as mercenaries. There have to be dozens of new bandit gangs operating in and around the Old Kingdom. Hunger makes men desperate and the Four Cities will no doubt want to rid themselves of those farmers turned criminals."

"I don't follow." Iorek blinked, dumbfounded. "Why would we whore ourselves out to the Four Cities?"

Faedal grinned. "Once the 'mercenaries' know where to find the bandits, they too will throw money around, share some of their rations and most importantly, bring them here for some proper training and outfitting. Also, if I take away the bandits, Carver can't recruit them himself."

"Brilliant."

Faedal rose from behind the table. "Take whatever is stashed in the vaults. We can't eat coins anyway. Report back to me when you have two units readied."

Iorek saluted sharply. "Certainly. Will I go as well?"

"I can smell your eagerness from here," Faedal said, fixing Iorek with a long, hard stare. "I won't tolerate any excursions, diversions, amusement on the side or anything else which might distract you from your mission. Your sole task is to bring me soldiers." He leaned across the table, his gaze intensifying a thousandfold. "Did I make myself clear?"

Iorek walked backwards, driven by the force of Faedal's will. His back collided with the opposite wall, his face white as a sheet. He slowly saluted. "Absolutely, milord. I will not fail you."

"Creuss said the same thing," Faedal added sweetly, closing his fist slowly as if pressing the life from a hapless victim.