The Ransom Knight (3 page)

He thrust out his hand, and a volley of sparks erupted from his fingers, shredding two of the misshapen wolves into tatters of mist. The wall of gray fog rolled forward, blanketing Mazael. He could not see more than a few yards in any direction before the mist swallowed the light. 

Then the warriors crashed into him, raising their spectral weapons. Mazael parried the blows on his shield and struck back, his sword sinking into the phantoms and unraveling them. He hacked and slashed his way through the press until he found Gerald. The phantoms surrounded the boy, threatening to overwhelm him, and Mazael attacked, destroying three of the spirit creatures in quick succession. Gerald offered a quick nod of gratitude, and they started fighting back to back, covering each other. Mazael swept his eyes over the phantoms, seeking for Trocend and the others, but he saw nothing through the mist. Occasionally pulses of blue light flashed in the fog. Trocend’s magic had been enough to drive off the phantoms. Would it be strong enough now? Or would the phantoms kill them all?

Mazael snarled in fury and took the head from another ghostly warrior, rage pulsing through him. If those phantom warriors wanted his life, then they could bloody well try to take it! He would destroy as many of them as he could before…

Suddenly there were no more phantom warriors left.

Mazael spun, seeking new foes, but the fog pulled back from him as quickly as if it had been blown by a gale. He watched as the fog drew into itself, billowing over the bridge and back into Castle Highstone. It was like watching water spiral down a drain. 

The mist vanished back into the castle. 

“You all right?” said Mazael.

“Aye,” said Gerald. “I am unharmed. I don’t understand what happened.”

“Neither do I,” said Mazael, looking for the others. Atalia stood a short distance away, sweat dripping down her face. There was no sign of Trocend or Mulger or Tollard, and for a grim moment Mazael was sure the spirit creatures had killed them. 

Yet there were no bodies. No sign of blood, even. 

“What…happened to Trocend and the others?” said Gerald. 

“I don’t know,” said Mazael.

“I do,” said Atalia. “I think…I think the spirits took them. I think that Traeger wanted them. I…” 

She shook her head, clutching at her side. 

“Are you wounded?” said Gerald.

“No,” said Atalia. “I…used too much magic. I’m not that strong. It’s like carrying buckets of bricks up like a flight of stairs. Do it too much, and your stamina fails. I…I…”

Her eyes rolled up into her head, and she started to fall. Mazael cursed, shifted his sword to his shield hand, and caught her with his right arm before she toppled. He grunted, slid his blade into its scabbard, and picked up the unconscious woman with both arms.

“What do we do now?” said Gerald.

That was a very good question.

“Follow me,” said Mazael. “I’ll think of something.”

Chapter 4: The Apprentice

It was nearly dark by the time Atalia regained consciousness. 

Mazael led Gerald deeper into the trees, far enough that the light of a fire would not be visible from the castle’s ramparts, but close enough that he could keep an eye upon the castle. Gerald built a fire while Mazael laid Atalia down upon the ground. 

“Do you think she’ll be all right?” said Gerald.

“Probably,” said Mazael. “She’s just exhausted.”

“I didn’t know magic was so tiring,” said Gerald.

“Apparently it is,” said Mazael. “I’m told it’s like wielding a sword, but with your thoughts instead of your hands. Just as the body grows weary, so does the mind.” He shook his head. “I saw this happen with my father’s wizards in the Grim Marches.” 

“What will we do now?” said Gerald.

“Well,” said Mazael. “We have no ransom and no wizard. Trocend had the ransom on him. I still don’t understand what’s going on here. She knows.” He jerked a thumb at Atalia. “So when she wakes up, we’ll have a nice little talk and she’ll tell us everything she knows.”

“And if she doesn’t want to talk?” said Gerald.

“I’m very persuasive,” said Mazael. 

“What do you think is happening?” said Gerald.

“If I had to guess,” said Mazael, looking at the white tower of Castle Highstone, “that’s a ruin of the Dark Elderborn. There must have been something buried inside it, some relic or artifact of dark magic. Trocend knew about it, but was never able to find it. After Trocend cast Atalia out, she came here in hope of finding it to regain her teacher’s favor.”

“Or in hope of claiming the dark power for herself,” said Gerald.

“That, too,” said Mazael. “Instead she came here and found that Sir Traeger had claimed the power for himself. She’s been here ever since, trying to separate him from the dark magic.”

“In order to warn Trocend?” said Gerald.

“Maybe,” said Mazael. “Or, as you said, she wanted to claim the dark magic for herself.” 

“What if she did?” said Gerald.

Mazael shrugged. “Then I’ll kill her.”

Gerald swallowed and said nothing further, and they waited in silence. 

At last Atalia groaned and started to stir as the sun dipped below the hills to the west. 

Mazael loosened his sword in its scabbard and waited.

Atalia sat up, blinked, and looked around. 

“We’re still alive, then?” she said at last, rubbing her head. 

“For the moment,” said Mazael. “I rather doubt the afterlife looks like a forest in the Stormvales.” 

She looked at his sword. “Are you going to kill me?” 

“That would depend,” said Mazael, “on what you tell me next.” 

“You want to know what is going on,” said Atalia.

“That,” said Mazael, “and a few other things.” He tapped his sword hilt. “My guess is that you actually woke up some time ago and have been listening to us.” Her face went blank. “A useful trick for a former thief. How much did I get right?”

Atalia sighed. “Do you just pretend to be a thuggish, unlettered knight, or are you really as clever as you seem to be?”

“Maybe both,” said Mazael with a shrug, “and you’re deflecting the question.”

“Very well,” said Atalia. “You were mostly right. I was a thief in Knightport, until my power manifested and a wizard took me to Alborg. I…did not get on well there. I have a problem with rules.”

“Well,” said Gerald, “you and Sir Mazael have something in common, then.” 

“After I was expelled, I made my way as a mercenary,” said Atalia, “selling my spells to the highest bidder.” Her mouth twisted. “My mother sold her body, so I suppose I’m not so different from her, am I?” 

“Don’t care,” said Mazael, “and it’s not relevant to the army of phantoms in Castle Highstone, is it? You’re deflecting again.”

“Most men fall for that,” said Atalia. “Anyway. Trocend took me in. Thought I might make a useful spy. During one of our journeys, we went past Castle Highstone. Trocend told me that it was an ancient ruin of the Dark Elderborn, that there was a hidden source of dark magic within it.”

“He wanted to claim it?” said Mazael. 

“He wanted to destroy it,” said Atalia. “He feared some troublemaker would find it, but he could never find the damned thing. It was too well concealed. Later…Trocend gave me a task in Knightport with Lord Randerly. I followed Trocend’s instructions exactly, but it still went wrong. So he blamed me and cast me out.” Her hand curled into a fist. “It was peculiar, but I enjoyed Lord Malden’s service. It was nice to have a purpose in life beyond simple money. I decided to go to Castle Highstone, find the relic of dark magic, and present it to Trocend in hopes that he would take me back.”

“What happened then?” said Mazael.

Atalia scowled. “Someone else got to it first. Traeger is just a simple bandit, but he took up residence in the castle and started calling himself Sir Traeger Highstone. I don’t know how, but he found the relic of dark magic and started using it.”

“What is it?” said Mazael. 

“A kalchweisyr,” said Atalia.

“What the devil is that?” said Mazael. 

“A sword,” said Atalia. “About the length of a longsword, but thinner. The Dark Elderborn wizards of old designed them to summon and control spirits. Traeger found it, used it, and it promptly drove him insane.”

“Because he isn’t a wizard?” said Gerald. 

Atalia shrugged. “Because he’s human, not Dark Elderborn. I don’t think the kalchweisyr was designed to work with human minds. And Traeger hardly possessed a mind of great subtlety to begin with.” She rubbed her jaw. “I think he took Castle Highstone and thought to set himself up as a robber knight. Instead he found the kalchweisyr, and now he thinks he’s going to summon an army of spirits and conquer the world.”

“Can he?” said Mazael.

“Probably not,” said Atalia. “The Dark Elderborn didn’t, and they were far stronger wizards than any human living today. I suspect instead that Traeger will keep summoning more and more powerful spirits until they finally overwhelm him, kill him, and then run amok through the Stormvales. Or he’ll summon up a particularly powerful spirit that will possess him, and it will use its powers to create a realm for itself in the mortal world. Many denizens of the spirit world, alas, are not exactly benevolent.” 

“That explains how Sir Traeger ended up with the kalchweisyr,” said Mazael, “but it doesn’t explain how you became Sir Traeger’s herald.”

Atalia smiled. “I lied to him. I came here to destroy whatever source of dark magic was in Castle Highstone. When I found that Traeger had it, I claimed that I had been inspired by his greatness, realized it was his destiny to conquer the world, and that I had come to serve him.”

“He fell for that?” said Mazael. 

“Sir Traeger was not exactly a genius,” said Atalia. “I hoped to find a way to get the kalchweisyr away from him, but the opportunity never presented itself. The weapon scared away all of his men, or he killed them in fits of rage, but he always kept the damned thing on him. Then Sir Edmund Redmane blundered into Traeger’s lands, and Traeger’s pet spirits took him hostage. I saw an opportunity…” 

“You sent the ransom letter to Lord Malden,” said Mazael. He growled and struck his leg with a fist. “Damn it all, that’s why Trocend came. You signed your name to the letter. That’s why Trocend expected to find you here. He knew all along that this was more than a simple ransom.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” said Atalia. “I hoped to lure Trocend here, and then he could deal with Traeger and destroy the kalchweisyr. Unfortunately, it seems the spirits were more than Trocend could handle.”

“Did Traeger kill Trocend and the armsmen?” said Mazael.

“I don’t know,” said Atalia. “Traeger has been getting worse lately. He’s…not thinking clearly. Maybe he thinks Trocend will join him. Or maybe he thinks to put one of his summoned spirits into Trocend’s body. That would…create a creature of considerable power.”

“And malevolence and insanity, I assume,” said Mazael.

“I fear you are correct,” said Atalia.

“The solution to the problem is simple,” said Mazael.

“And just what is that?” said Atalia.

“We kill Traeger, destroy the kalchweisyr, and free the captives,” said Mazael.

Atalia barked out laugh. “Just like that?” 

“Just like that,” said Mazael. “Do you have a better idea?”

“You are either bold or a madman,” said Atalia.

“Why can’t I be both?” said Mazael. “Can you open the castle gate for us?”

“I could,” said Atalia, “but Traeger has bound spirits to watch over it. They will manifest the minute we cross the gate.”

“Is there another way into the castle?” said Mazael. “A bolt hole, perhaps? Castles always have bolt holes…and I imagine that the Dark Elderborn never built a castle without a secret exit.” He grinned and pointed at her. “And you, Atalia of Knightport, the cautious, clever wizard-thief. I expect the first thing you did was to find a secret exit from Castle Highstone.”

She stared at him in silence for a moment, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “Yes,” she said at last.

“You should show it to me,” said Mazael.

“You might get killed,” said Atalia. “You might get us all killed.” 

“Everyone dies,” said Mazael, straightening up. “You came here to prove to Trocend that you were worthy to serve the Lord of Knightcastle. Well, now’s your chance. We might die, yes. Or we could kill Traeger, destroy the kalchweisyr, and free Trocend and Sir Edmund and the others.” He shrugged. “Or you can slip away and scratch out a living selling your spells to the highest bidder. What do you think?”

Gerald looked back and forth between them.

At last Atalia stood, her chest rising and falling against her vest as she drew breath. She was frightened, yes, but there was a bit of steel in her gaze.

“Yes,” she said at last. “Let’s get it over with.”

Chapter 5: Dark Sword

The narrow stone stairs spiraled into the rock of the crag.

Mazael went first, shield upon his arm and sword in his hand. Gerald followed, and Atalia brought up the back. A sphere of pale blue light hovered over her palm, throwing back the gloom and flinging shadows upon the rough rock of the wall. Mazael found the magical light uncanny, but he had to admit it was easier on the eyes than the smoke and flickering glare of torchlight. 

At last the stairs ended in a door of pale white stone. 

“A lever, there,” whispered Atalia. 

Mazael nodded, returned his sword to its sheath, and yanked up the metal lever. For a moment nothing happened, and then the floor trembled beneath his boots. The stone door slid aside with a faint rasp, and Mazael drew his longsword and strode through the door. He found himself in the courtyard of Castle Highstone, the white tower of the Dark Elderborn ruin rising overhead. The curtain wall rose to the left, the battlements dark against the night sky. A dilapidated wooden stable slumped against the curtain wall, and Mazael saw their horses within. Other horses wandered the courtyard, grazing upon the thin grass. Likely they had belonged to Sir Edmund and his men. 

“Where is Sir Traeger?” said Mazael in a low voice. 

“He’ll be in the top chamber of the tower,” said Atalia, her voice calm, but her face was tight and fearful. “He doesn’t sleep any more. He sits with the kalchweisyr in his lap, whispering to it. I think the damned thing talks to him.”

Mazael nodded. Knights were supposed to engage in honorable combat, but Mazael had no qualms about stabbing Traeger in the dark while he communed with his sword of dark magic. The only way to fight a wizard was to kill him before he could bring his magic to bear. As far as Mazael was concerned, that also applied to robber knights wielding magical swords. 

“We’ll surprise him, then,” said Mazael. “Sneak into his chamber, and strike hard and fast. Overwhelm him and cut him down before he can use the kalchweisyr’s magic. Understood?” Atalia nodded. Gerald looked troubled, but he nodded as well. 

“It’s through there,” said Atalia, pointing at a narrow door at the base of the white tower. “Up a spiral stair, and then the chamber at the top of the tower. You can go first.” She smirked. “You have the biggest shield, after all.” 

“Fair enough,” said Mazael.

He took a step towards the tower, and the door burst open. 

A man in chain mail stalked forth, tall and strong, with wild black hair and a bushy gray-streaked beard that hung to his chest. He had a hard, weathered face, and scars covered his forearm and marked his right cheek. In his right hand he carried a slender sword with a silvery blade, the metal giving off a peculiar shining gleam. 

“Oh,” said Atalia in alarm, raising her hands as blue light shone around her fingers. 

“You betray me, witch?” hissed the bearded man. “You will die for this. Did you not think I would sense your presence? Fool! I could feel you coming,” he pointed at Mazael, “especially when you travel with this…this creature!” 

“You, I presume,” said Mazael, “are Sir Traeger Highstone?”

The knight whirled to face Mazael, his eyes glittering, his teeth flashing in his beard as he snarled. “I am Lord Traeger Highstone!”

“You call yourself that?” said Mazael. “Well, I could call myself the Prince of Barellion and the liege lord of the High Plain, but that would not make it true.”

“Empty words,” spat Traeger. “What makes a lord? A sword and the strength to wield it.” He pointed at the gleaming blade. “This weapon makes me stronger than any other man, and I will use it to found a kingdom that shall endure for a thousand years.” 

“I very much doubt that,” said Mazael.

“Do not make threats to me, demon!” said Traeger. “I can see what you are. I see the tainted fire in your blood. You are a monster, but you will not overcome me.”

“I see what you meant,” said Mazael to Atalia, “about the madness.”

Atalia offered a tight nod, her eyes never leaving Traeger and the kalchweisyr in his fist. 

“I’m sure you’re going to be busy conquering the world,” said Mazael, “so let’s not waste your time, hmm? You have Sir Edmund Redmane and his men captive, along with a monk named Brother Trocend and two armsmen of Knightcastle. Release them to me, and we’ll leave and disturb you no further.” 

Traeger sneered. “And if I refuse?”

Mazael shrugged. “Then I’ll kill you.” 

“So bold!” said Traeger. “Once, I would have feared you. I can see what you are, demon child. I see the dark fire in your blood. Your kind exists only to kill and slaughter.”

Mazael laughed. “What do you think I am? I’m only a mortal man.”

“You are not,” said Traeger. “You are a demon, or the child of one. But I shall slay you.” He lifted the kalchweisyr. “With this, I shall slay you, demon, and send you screaming back to hell.”

Mazael laughed again, which seemed to enrage the knight. “I heard the sword had driven you insane, but I had not guessed how utterly you would sink into madness. You think I am a demon? Tell me, do you see me with horns and hooves and a pointed tail?” He grinned. “Or do I stink of brimstone? Well, I confess I have not bathed in quite some time, though I do not think I smell all that bad. Are you seeing other visions, as well? Perhaps pigs flying in formation over the battlements, or talking horses singing in unison…”

Atalia let out a shocked, terrified laugh. 

“Enough!” roared Traeger. “You think to mock me? Perish! Perish, all of you!”

He waved the sword over his head, gray mist swirling around his feet. 

“Keep the spirits off me with your magic,” said Mazael. “Gerald, defend her.”

“I shall try, sir knight,” said Atalia, blue light burning brighter around her hands, and Gerald nodded, his face grim as he set himself. 

Traeger screamed and thrust his sword, and the mist at his feet exploded into a phalanx of ghostly knights, armored in steel plate and wielding greatswords. The warriors charged at Mazael in a rush, and he leapt to meet their attack, their blows rebounding from his shield and his sword flashing in his hand. He cut down one, two, three of the ghostly warriors, but the rest encircled him, and he could not block all their attacks.

Atalia struck, a volley of sizzling blue sparks ripping from her hands to tear through the warriors. Three of them dissolved into swirling mist, and Mazael broke free of the ring. Some pursued him, but others hurried towards Atalia. Gerald interposed himself, while Atalia launched more magic at the attacking spirits.

Mazael charged, driving his sword for Traeger’s head. Surprise flashed across the robber knight’s face, and he whipped the kalchweisyr up to block. Mazael expected the slender blade to bend beneath the force of his heavy longsword, but to his surprise, the kalchweisyr remained rigid. Traeger counterattacked, the kalchweisyr carving chunks of oak from Mazael’s shield. The sword was sharper and stronger than it looked.

“Fool,” said Traeger, driving him back. “Do you think to defeat me?”

“Do you have another insult?” said Mazael, ducking under a swing. “If you call me a fool once more, I fear I shall grow bored and stop listening.”

An idea came to him.

Traeger spat. “You can do better?”

Atalia screamed, swaying on her feet as she cast more spells.

“Yes,” said Mazael. “Your beard looks stupid, and you should trim it.”

Traeger blinked. “What?”

“I said your beard looks stupid…”

Traeger roared and charged. Mazael twisted to the side, dropping his shield. Traeger went for the opening, and the kalchweisyr scraped across Mazael’s left shoulder, pain exploding through his arm. Yet the thrust left Traeger overbalanced, and Mazael’s hand darted out and seized a handful of his bushy beard. He yanked, and his sword pommel smashed into Traeger’s forehead. The robber knight stumbled with a cry, and Mazael raised his longsword and brought it down upon Traeger’s neck.

Traeger fell to his knees, blood gushing from the ruins of his throat.

“Told you should have trimmed it,” said Mazael, and Traeger collapsed.

The kalchweisyr fell from his hands as he died, and Mazael reached out and caught it with his free hand. 

A deathly chill shot up his left arm, numbing the pain of his wound, and he suddenly felt the presence of the spirits around him, and realized that they would do as he commanded, that they would kill if he wished it. 

“Wield me,” whispered a cold, dry voice in his head. “Wield me, and you can have dominion over the earth. The fool was right about you. Your blood is stronger than his, and ancient power burns within your veins. Wield me, and the world shall be yours. Wield me…”

Mazael ran forward, reached the door to the tower, and swung. He smashed the kalchweisyr against the white stone of the doorframe again and again, and on the seventh swing the sword shattered into glittering shards. The voice in his head shrank to a faint scream, and then faded entirely. 

The spirits and mist vanished from the courtyard.

He took a deep breath, threw aside the broken hilt of the ancient sword, and turned to face the others.

“You’re wounded,” said Atalia, rushing forward. 

“A minor scratch,” said Mazael. “I’ve had worse.” His shoulder hurt damnably, though. “Are you injured?”

“No,” said Atalia, and Gerald shook his head.

“You smashed the sword,” said Gerald.

“It was an evil thing,” said Mazael. “We are well rid of it.” 

“You heard its voice in your head, didn’t you?” said Atalia. Mazael nodded. “What did it say?”

“Foolishness. Nothing more,” said Mazael.