Messenger of the Dark Prophet (The Bowl of Souls: Book Two) (61 page)

The shouts came from overhead where prisoners had streamed up the stairs and run into unexpected resistance. A horde of goblins poured down the stairs from above.

A roar of rage rang out as Tamboor shoved past Fist and Justan. The warrior surged up the stairs and launched himself into the battle, slaying goblins with large swipes of his sword. Justan and Fist followed, linking thoughts through the bond. Soon they were in the midst of the fight, working in concert.  Fist felled goblins with great blows of his impromptu mace, while Justan stayed just under his arms, slicing up any who escaped the ogre’s reach.

Justan and Fist passed Captain Demetrius and pulled up beside Tamboor. The weak-fleshed goblins had no chance against the three vengeance-driven warriors, but they were numerous, making it a slow fight to reach the top. Nevertheless, the three of them led the charge up the stairwell, leaving Captain Demetrius and the other prisoners to climb over the goblin dead they left in their wake.

It was a valiant charge, a marvel of the power of the mind over the weakness of the body. Most men would have tired and been overtaken. These three had been imprisoned in unholy conditions and by all rights should have crumpled from exhaustion long before reaching the stairwell in the first place. But they didn’t let lack of physical energy slow them down. The memories of the deaths of Tamboor’s family were fresh in their minds, stoking the fires that drove them.

Tamboor’s fury and the precision of the bonded warriors led the escapees up the spiral staircase that was Ewzad Vriil’s private dungeon entrance. They emerged through the back door of the throne room in time to see the first orcs come through Ewzad’s shimmering portal.

There stood Ewzad Vriil, dressed in a Duke’s finery, arm’s out stretched, his fingers undulating wildly. He looked sickly, yet radiated horrible power and on his face he wore a ghastly grin. Justan and Fist’s anger mixed together and burned as one through the bond.

Tamboor ripped into the orcs while Justan and Fist ran for the wizard. They were followed right behind by Captain Demetrius and a stream of escaping prisoners.

“Blast it!
Too soon!”
Ewzad Vriil hadn’t been ready for the assault yet. Not enough of his orcs had passed through the portal. Quickly, he raised his arm and sent forth a paralyzing spell, freezing everything in the room.

Justan felt the spell seize up his muscles, but didn’t break free right away. Doing so might cause the wizard to unleash a spell that was more destructive. He took the time to examine the situation.

The prisoners and orcs alike were frozen in place. Every orc that tried to enter the portal froze the moment it entered the room and the portal was soon clogged. The same situation was happening to the escapees that made it to the top of the stairs.
Neither side was gaining any advantage and
Justan was the only one with the power to break that stalemate.

He sized up his opponent and tried to figure out how he could attack. Ewzad Vriil’s power was immense. In normal circumstances a direct attack would be foolhardy. The wizard had enough power to fry every one in the castle to a crisp. However, using his mage sight, Justan could see that holding the inefficient magical portal open was draining a vast amount of the wizard’s power and freezing everyone in the room was taking up the rest. At that particular moment, Ewzad shouldn’t have had enough power left to light a candle. Justan knew he had a chance.

Ewzad Vriil was in a quandary. He was safe at the moment, but how should he proceed? It would have been so much easier if he had one of his paralyzing beacons with him. The devices only held the subjects frozen by the original blast, while the nature of the spell he had just cast also froze anything that entered the room. The prisoners were stopped, but they weren’t dead. He was thinking of how best to kill them with the little power he had left when one of the escapees broke the freeze spell and began walking towards him.

It was the man who had killed Rudfen. Ewzad sent another paralyzing spell at the man, but it did not work. Why wasn’t the spell working? Was his magic that drained? Ewzad sent another and another but the man kept coming, silently twirling two swords in the air.

The man was getting too close. Finally, Ewzad sent a wave of air, knocking the man from his feet. The man stood up and came again, faster this time. Ewzad continued to send blasts of air while backing up to his throne.

Then Ewzad saw the rune on the back of the man’s right hand. For the first time Ewzad’s anger was replaced by fear. This was a named warrior. How had he missed that in the man’s interrogation? Had he been so focused on Elise’s visit that he hadn’t stopped to think? He should have suspected something right away. After all, what other kind of man could have destroyed Huck?

“My-my, what a deception.
Tsk
tsk
. You didn’t give me your true name, warrior,” Ewzad said. He sent another wave of energy to bowl Justan over.

“You didn’t ask nicely,” Justan quipped as he jumped back to his feet. He was frustrated by his miscalculation of the wizard’s power and he was running out of time. He had to get to the duke before the wizard thought of a way to escape.

Ewzad recognized that his spells weren’t working. The warrior was going to catch him soon and he couldn’t leave through the portal because it was packed full of frozen orcs. He needed to change his strategy.

With a wave of his fingers, Ewzad pushed Justan back one final time. Quickly, the wizard released the freeze spell and replaced it with a force field just large enough that it took in both
himself
and the portal.

The prisoners were startled by the spells release, but wasted no time and surged against the barrier. Painful sparks erupted from the barrier, pushing the humans back, but Fist wouldn’t back down with the wizard finally in his sights. The ogre pounded away at the barrier with the table leg, ignoring the sparks that singed his hair and burnt his hands.

Meanwhile orcs flooded through the portal and began to fill the space inside the force field, waiting to be released.

Justan was repulsed by the field as well, but he saw something that made him smile. There was movement behind the throne. Somehow Sneaky Pete had ascended the stairs in his weakened condition and was inside the barrier when Ewzad erected it. The assassin slowly crept up behind the wizard, silvery wire in hand. Justan he had to give him time.

“Ewzad Vriil!” Justan shouted. The wizard’s eyes rested on him. Quickly, Justan took the glove off of his left hand and pressed his palm up against the barrier, ignoring the sparking pain. “I am Edge! You will remember my name until you die, which will be very soon!”

Ewzad frowned as he saw the wizard rune on Justan's palm. Could this young man be a named wizard as well? That was impossible. He had never heard of such a thing.

An orc shouted out in warning. Ewzad turned just as
Petyr
was casting the silvery loop in the air. The wizard’s fingers writhed and the assassin was frozen before he could complete the deed.

“Ha!” Ewzad Vriil turned back to Justan. “Oh my, you are no named wizard, no-no. Do you think me simple? You have no magic! You were distracting me so that your friend could sneak up from behind.” The wizard thought for a moment. “You are Kenn’s friend aren’t you? You are the one that he asked for. He set you free didn’t he? Well he shall pay!”

Ewzad snarled, his face turning red, and turned to Sneaky Pete, who stood frozen near the throne. “How naughty you are! How sneaky. Let me show you what happens to those who sneak around Ewzad Vriil!” The wizard’s fingers wove together and his face turned more and
more angry
as he spoke. “Oh my, a wasting disease is it? That explains your sickly look. I could heal you of it, you know. A simple spell really. I learned it from the wizard that healed me of a similar disease years ago. You would like that wouldn’t you? Well, that same spell can be used in reverse as well.”

 The wizard gestured and
Petyr
lurched. The assassin’s chest began to bulge out. The paralyzing spell kept him from screaming, but his eyes told the tale of his pain. The bulge grew and grew until with a loud pop, the sound of his ribs cracking filled the room. Ewzad released the freeze spell and Sneaky Pete fell forward, dead.

“No!” Justan bent his will against the barrier. The wizard had pulled power from the shield in order to kill
Petyr
and Justan was able to use his defensive magic to break down the spell. He reached into the red and gold lines of magic that made up the shield and ripped them apart line by line until the force field collapsed.

With the shield down, orcs streamed out among the prisoners and the battle began anew. The prisoners did well at first, but more orcs streamed through the portal to replace those that fell.

Ewzad stepped back in surprise. How had the deceiver done that? His barrier had been strong. No one should have been able to break it. Perhaps the man really was a wizard.

He put all of his strength into erecting a smaller, but stronger shield around
himself
alone. He could not take direct part in the battle, but it would not matter. He had an unending supply of orcs. They would suppress the rebellion. Yes, he would just sit back and watch.

Justan wanted to go up and finish the wizard, but he was cut off by a wave of orcs. They were coming in through the portal faster than reinforcements could stream up out of the dungeon. These were tough, experienced orcs that were well rested, while the escapees were sparsely armed humans that were weak from lack of food and had already fought a large battle.

Justan danced around the orcs, his swords inflicting disabling wounds if he was not able to get in a fatal strike. He began to edge toward the portal. He sensed that if he could get close enough, he could use his magic to collapse it. But what would be the consequence? The flow of orcs would stop coming, but the wizard would have his full power back. If cornered, he might incinerate them all.

Just as Justan’s hope began to fade, a fire erupted in the back of the throne room. Justan sensed something that made him smile.

Chapter Forty One

“Slow her down you no good excuse
fer
a woodland elf!” Lenny shouted over the wind, while doing his best to hold Bertha away from anything flammable. They had left so quickly that he hadn’t the time to put the hammer away.

Lenny and Zambon spurred their horses. Stanza and Alfred were warhorses, the best of their breed and trained at the
Battle
Academy
, but Gwyrtha was still far ahead of them and they were beginning to tire.

“She is holding back, you know!” Zambon shouted back. “I don’t know if Qyxal has anything to do with it, but I have seen her run much faster!”

“Bah!” Lenny grumbled, but he didn’t blame her. She had been holding back during the entire journey. The boy must be close ahead.

Qyxal sat up and pointed and Lenny looked up to see the duke’s unfinished castle looming in the distance. They began to pass worker shacks and carts full of building materials. People screamed and ran at the sight of an elf riding a monster.

By the time they arrived at the castle entrance, two scruffy soldiers were all that remained of Ewzad’s security force. They stood at their posts, staring back towards the keep and the sounds of fighting within. Gwyrtha burst past them and up the tall front steps before they could cry out. They saw Zambon and Lenny coming though and raised their spears in warning.

Lenny leaned out to the side of Stanza’s saddle and swung Bertha into the head of one guard, shattering his skull and setting what remained of his helmet ablaze. Alfred trampled the other on his way up the steps.

They dismounted at the top of the steps, where Qyxal was trying unsuccessfully to pick open the locked main doors.

“Are you sure you know what
yer
doin
’, elf? You got us
tryin
’ to head right in the Duke’s front door. We had plans of how we was
gonna
’ do this,” the dwarf reminded.

“Didn’t you notice?” the elf said, squinting as he tried to pick the lock. “Where are his soldiers? Other than those two inept guards this place is defenseless. Something is going on in there and Gwyrtha wants in really bad.”

As if in response, the rogue horse threw her weight into the door.

“Just a minute, just a minute, girl.
Lemme
do it, okay?” With the first swing, Bertha bent the lock, sending sparks flying and putting the hard wood of the door on fire. The second swing broke the lock all together and the doors opened inward.