Saturday, June 28, 2025

fate's pawn 22

 

Chapter 22

 

The sunny, if somewhat green from overgrowing plants, curved corridor held the heavy door to the temple, and Harkon shrugged, turned the handle, and kicked it open, standing back as he did so.

Arrows whistled out into the corridor.

“In the name of Alethos, I abjure undead,” cried Harkon, making the gesture to call the glyph-spell, his own magic backed up by power from his god. He leaped into the room.

Kaz, moving rapidly in his wake, gasped in awe as several skeletons, waiting on guard with drawn bows, seemed to start to collapse sideways, and indeed, crumbled, falling into dust.

The temple was dark, and the muffled-feeling Kaz could sense on the walls showed that heavy curtains, or at least, cloth, had been hung over the traditional stained-glass windows, which showed scenes from the life of Alethos.

“Bollocks,” muttered Harkon. “A little light would reduce his powers.”

Fold cloth,” Kaz muttered, aiming the laundry-room cantrip at the nearest curtain. It might not cause harm to the vampire, but it would be more convenient for her fellows, and if it did reduce his powers, all well and good.

The curtain obediently folded itself neatly, revealing the window showing Alethos, wounded in the thigh by Tor. Kaz took that as a good omen, and wondered that she had never put together in her own mind that incident, and the wound she had healed on Alathan.

“Forgive me, dear one, I diverted your thoughts from dwelling on it,” her god spoke in her mind. “I feared that if you knew me for who I was, it would make it harder to get to know you properly as you would be overwhelmed. And, as we discussed it, I believe I was right to do so. You could not have acted naturally, and been slightly bossy towards me, in your eagerness to help, if you were in awe of me.”

“I would have been overwhelmed; and terrified to suggest it because it would have seemed presumptuous. Excuse me, love, I’m about to be busy.”

There was a loving chuckle, and Kaz was heartened.

Behind Kaz, Lelyn was also folding curtains, and the light, filtered by overgrowing plants, at least permitted the non-trógling to see.

A dozen zombies backed the now two or three skeletons, and they wavered before Harkon’s power.

The door into the treasury opened, and the bloodsucker gave a hiss of dismay to see the cleared windows. He swirled his cloak and turned, to retreat into the darker room beyond, signalling his undead minions to attack.

Fold cloth,” muttered Kaz, hurriedly.

Casting a spell on a person of high magical resistance was beyond her; but his cloak was not him.

The vampire would soon fight his way out of the folding cloth, but in the meantime he was prevented from fleeing, and was briefly trapped. As the cloak inexorably tried to fold itself up neatly, taking little account of having a figure within it, the bloodsucker, taken by surprise, and hampered by being a part of the folding, cried out in sudden fear, and fell over. Kaz sniggered.

Harkon saw his chance and ran as fast as he could, knocking aside Zombies as he went, leaving them to be dealt with by Svargia and Protasion, backed by the others. His sword burst into flame as he ran, invoking the spell to do so, and one Zombie thrust aside fell back ablaze.

“Harkon has the sucker. Kill the rest,” said Kaz, harshly. She kindled a torch, using the shaft to whack at the skull of a skeleton, after jumping clear over the blade it swung, and thrust the burning tip of the torch into a zombie as she made for the altar, the stone sword which used to stand on it shattered beside it, and the crudely added glyphs of darkness and chaos.

Meld broken stone,” muttered Kaz, pushing the parts of the stone sword together. It took a couple of the cantrips used in caverns. She had brought a hammer and chisel from some of the tools they had brought, and deftly cut away the darkness glyph. A cantrip grew one fingernail, and she scraped into the chaos glyph to join up the six sparks of chaos, converting it into a rune of magic. She carved out the rune of truth at the same time, slit her finger, and ran blood into the runes of her god.

She had intended to destroy the basin with hammer and chisel, but something made her pick up the stone sword, now mended, struggling with its weight, and praying that she do this right.

The weight reduced.

Behind her, the others had formed a circle around Rynn and Zon. Zon was handing out torches, having lit one, and conserved his own meagre magical power by lighting others from it, and Rynn was lighting fire-tipped crossbow bolts to fire into Zombies. It did not much matter if they hit head or chest or elsewhere, as at least the fire caused damage that would not regenerate.

A zombie loomed at Kaz. Its appearance was decidedly soapy.

Lather,” said Kaz, at the face.

The sudden froth which covered the eyes blinded the zombie and Kaz, on a raised dais, managed to bring down the stone sword on its head.

It went down.

 

Harkon was in combat with the vampire, which had managed to get a hand free from durance laundered, and reached out to find his throat. The spirit, rebound into the dead body, was able to act like a disembodied spirit and attack his, even as the monster used main strength to fight out of the folded cloak, and twist away from the threatening flaming blade of the Lord-Priest of Alethos, perhaps the one type of being the vampire truly feared. Harkon knew it, but he also knew that this was a fight he could lose. He must not lose concentration on hitting the vampire with his flaming sword, but no more must he give it the chance to tear at his spirit, ripping away chunks of his magical centre, trying to exhaust or kill him, and preventing him from casting more spells, whether battle magic or god-magic. Indeed, he must concentrate even to maintain his flaming sword.

 

Kaz sighed a shuddering sigh of physical strain as she lifted the stone sword again, and plunged it, point first, into the bowl. The bowl shattered, with a loud clanging noise, the black stains on its inner surface making Kaz shudder.

Cleanse stains,” she said, hoping the cantrip would work.

And then she felt an assault upon her senses, the feel of something clawing and biting at her very essence. She remembered what Harkon had said, about being able to attack spirits physically if you had the will do to so; and her fingernails were still claws of stone carving from the cantrip. If they could carve stone, they could carve spirit. She felt the attacking spirit flinch, and bit at it as well. Contrary to common folk takes, Toróg could not eat stone, but they had stronger teeth than humans. She took a good bite on the vile tasting spirit and hung on, shaking her head to shake it and cause more damage, like a dog, with a rat, raking at it, and pouring her anger into it.

 

Harkon was fighting the vampire spirit in his own way, but combining physical attack with mental, and doing what he could to damage the body with fire. A loud clanging noise seemed to cause the vampire to flinch.

“Alethos!” cried Harkon. “In your name I abjure this unnatural creature and rend his spirit from his vile chaotic body!” He felt the power of Alethos channelling through him as he pulled back his sword arm and thrust the flaming tip right through the vampire’s neck. Snarling, he let his own spirit reach out to cling to the severed spirit of the dead vampire, unable to flee properly as disembodied spirits could do, being bound into a body, now dead. Like Kaz, Harkon obeyed instinct to rend at it, using his own hands to pummel at it.

 

“I am getting sick of these fucking skeletons letting my sword slide through their sodding bones,” growled Protasion. “Give me the heftiest torch you have, Zon!”

Zon lit, and passed forward a hefty branch, green and heavy with sap, cut to make up the numbers. Protasion thrust his sword back into its scabbard, and started using the burning brand as a shillelagh, laughing as he shattered the dried-out skull of one of his assailants, which collapsed into a heap of bones.

“Hope you aren’t ever geased not to use any weapon but sword, if you plan to use that method in future,” said Lelyn.

“I’m going to have a sword made with a long grip and a heavy pommel, so I can reverse it to whack skeletons on the head with my sword, but with the other end.”

“Don’t you think that’s bending the spirit of any such geas?” said Svargia.

“Alathan said that the geasa are to make us think and be closer to Alethos, surely he will approve of a good way of dealing with something he hates?” said Protasion.

“For a hero of the cult, if that is what he is, Alathan has some rather odd ideas,” said Svargia, disapprovingly.

“Or, maybe, because he is higher in the knowledge of Alethos than most people he recognises that some cult dogma has stagnated, and has a truer view of our god than those who are hidebound,” said Lelyn.

Protasion brained another skeleton, and Lelyn neatly beheaded a zombie. Svargia booted the head away from the rest of the body, which fought on, blindly.

Lelyn shuddered, and Rynn put a burning bolt through its body. It reeled off, trailing noxious smoke.

 

Harkon dropped his sword, the flame having died, and concentrated on pummelling his spirit, as well as rending it with his own power. It was weakening, and he redoubled his efforts

 

Kaz growled.

“Wring!” she said, using another laundry cantrip to add strength to her hands to wring and twist the spirit, like wringing water out of washed clothing. It started squealing, and she dug in her claws.

 

The last zombie fell to Protasion’s shillelagh, and the group quickly fell to beheading any bodies and cutting the arms and legs off feebly struggling bodies.

 

Harkon felt his undead opponent’s spirit falter, and with sudden precision in his head, he knew how to drag the last vestige of its force into him, and gasped to realise that he had ripped power from the vampire to boost his own.

 

Kaz reached down for the stone sword and wrenched it out of the last fragment of stone bowl which fell away, and drove it through the spirit.

Power coursed through the sword and into her hand and through into her body. She felt stronger, as she had done when she had healed Alathan... Alethos. And nothing was attacking her.

Lightheaded, Kaz sat down, clinging to the stone sword.

 

 

“Are we all done here?” asked Harkon, pleased that his voice was not shaking.

“I think so,” said Protasion.

“Kaz?” asked Harkon.

“Did you know that washing cantrips seriously upset spirits?” said Kaz.

“Washing cantrips? Is that what you did to the bloodsucker?” asked Harkon.

“I cast ‘fold’ on his cloak,” said Kaz. “I figured you could do with him slowed up and hampered and not in the dark of his inner sanctum.”

“If you weren’t the beloved of someone else, I’d kiss you,” said Harkon.

“You may kiss me as a brother,” said Kaz.

Harkon gave her a hearty buss on the cheek.

“Well, now we have to put a stake through the heart of my erstwhile playmate, though I fancy I destroyed his spirit so he cannot come back, even if his neck wasn’t seared. But let us not be incautious,” he said.

“And we need to burn the zombies and skeletons, and check out the rest of the complex, including underground,” said Kaz.

“Underground? I don’t think the temple has lower levels,” said Harkon.

“You’ve never stayed in one as a penniless lay member, have you?” said Kaz.

“Er, no; Torval left me enough to make my way,” said Harkon.

“Underground are the storerooms, the laundry, the boiler-room for the heating in the winter months, and the kitchens,” said Kaz. “Some of the decorative columns are chimneys, you know.”

“I had no idea,” said Harkon. “We could burn bodies in the boiler room.”

“Or we could do it in the open where we know we don’t have to deal with damaged chimneys, and can see they burn all through,” said Kaz. “But we need to check out underground in case there are more, and I don’t know about you, but I’d like to make sure none of these can regenerate behind us before we look.”

“I concur,” said Harkon.

With the still-burning pine pitch torches, disposing of the bodies was easy enough, and they sat to watch them burn.

“It’s not even midday,” said Protasion.

“Good; I don’t want to mess about below ground after nightfall,” said Harkon. “Kaz! Are there any windows?”

“Yes, there are half-basement skylights between the outer circle and the inner,” said Kaz. “Haven’t you noticed them?”

“To be honest, I’ve only spent time in the temple since I was given a room in the inner circle as a Glyph Lord,” said Harkon. “The gymnasium is also in the central section, as is the common armoury.”

“We might be lucky enough to find more armour for Rynn and Zon,” said Kaz. “If the preservation spells held. Armour kept for the children of the hierarchy.”

“Good point,” said Harkon. “The smell is dissipating; we would be wise to eat before we do any more, some of you are rather pale.”

“Goodness, I wonder why,” said Lelyn, with heavy irony.

“You all did well,” said Harkon.

 

 

 

 

 

fate's pawn 21

 

Chapter 21

 

“It’s really pretty here; it seems odd to associate these peaceful valleys, so verdant and fair, with violence, chaos, destruction, and death,” said Kaz - the group had discussed her name and decided that she should remain Kaz until the right moment to reveal it - glancing up the valley they traversed to where two others ran off it, raised above the valley floor, with high waterfalls trickling down into the lush mixed woodland on the margins of the valley, and the wide river running down it. There was a golden sheen of late summer to the scene, as if the sun had placed a light layer of gilding on everything, and the scene was reflected in the wide, slow-moving river. Blue skies were flecked with high wisps of cloud.

 “The horses of the winds are forming up, see their tails amongst the clouds,” said Kuros. “It will blow soon, and it wouldn’t surprise me if there was a storm. It has been so hot for days; it almost has to break soon.”

“Well, if we can get to our temple, so long as we kill all the undead, it can storm all it likes,” said Kaz.

“I like that qualifier; so long as we kill all the undead,” said Protasion.

“We’re all a bit scared, but all we can do is our best,” said Kaz.

“Yes, but you’re supposed to be immortal.”

“I haven’t been cursed yet, and it doesn’t mean not being killable, I don’t think, only not getting old,” said Kaz. “And yes, of course I’m afraid. These won’t be like those poor ghosts.”

“She’s right,” said Harkon. “Go in there wary, and you have a good chance of coming out alive.”

“What about fire?” asked Kaz.

“Undead don’t like it,” said Harkon.

“Well, there are pine trees out here,” said Kaz. “And that means pine resin, which burns well. Why don’t we set up a heap of torches for Rynn and Zon to pass to the fighters at the front to use to parry with, and, moreover, we can set them alight using household fire-lighting cantrips which take very little effort. In fact, Rynn and Zon can light them for us before passing them forward, because we can teach the cantrip if they don’t know it.”

“There are fire related battle magics, but the idea of using fire lighting cantrips on torches will save much effort,” said Harkon. “We’ll collect resin as we travel; it’s not hard to make pine pitch, we heat it up and stir in any animal droppings we find to make it into a sticky goop to make a torch. We can do that when we set up camp, and make torches overnight in order to go in during daylight.”

 

The tróglings quickly learned the sound of resin to darksense as compared to tree trunk, which meant less time was lost in searching, and they collected a good-sized sack full of fresh, sticky resin as well as some older knobs of solid resin.

And Harkon, with reference to the map, hushed excited calls as they reached a particular waterfall.

“Further up this valley is the remains of a city. It’s been overgrown, but if you look, some of those outcrops of rock are no such thing; they are too regular, and show the suggestion of having once been structures,” he said.

 

“You want us tróglings to map it by sound,” said Kaz. “If we have a good idea of how it’s laid out, we can make better choices. We still have a day in hand. If we can climb up one of these waterfalls and look down, we can make a map.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” said Harkon. “The rest of us can set up camp at the bottom of the waterfall, and make pine pitch whilst you three do that.”

“Kuros, will you rig us a line?” asked Kaz.

“Willingly,” said Kuros. “I’ll do what I can to make it an easier climb, too.”

“Thanks, Kuros,” said Kaz. “You climb really well.”

 

“This is a good vantage point,” said Rynn. “It’s a whole city down there. I hope you have a lot of parchment.”

“Heaps,” said Kaz. “Right, I’m going to start with nearest our camp and work across; and you two can help me with details.”

Kuros came up a few hours later with food and refilled canteens.

“Oh, my,” he said. “That’s amazing; most of what I could see was green and the odd rocks.”

“If a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well,” said Kaz. “And when we’ve cleared out and resanctified the temple, it’s a base, and we can go looking around the city, and maybe get it to a state people can come back.”

“That’s ambitious,” said Kuros.

“If nothing else, it’s somewhere to bring escaped trógling,” said Kaz.

“There is that,” said Kuros.

It was close on midnight before Kaz called the other trógling to go back down the cliff; it made little difference to them, after all.

Harkon was putting the finishing touches to a pine pitch torch with the scrapings from the cookpot he had used.

“And this is why we brought extras,” he said. “That’s two dozen; and I’ve also treated the ends of as many crossbow bolts.”

“Good,” said Kaz. “That should leave us well prepared.”

Zon grinned.

“Rynn and me will shoot them.”

“Aim for zombies rather than skeletons. Zombies burn better; skeletons smoulder unless you’re lucky. Right, bed; I’ll wake Svargia and Protasion for first watch,” said Harkon. “Great gods! That map is so detailed! I am impressed!”

“Darksense is handy,” said Kaz.

Harkon resisted the urge to study the map for long before sleeping. He lay down on his bedroll in the big communal shelter, and smiled to see Kaz, already fast asleep, sprawled out with a gentle smile on her face. He hoped she was having pleasant dreams.

Kaz was having very pleasant dreams, in which she slept cradled in the arms of Alethos. And if it was hard for him to be close and yet retain enough of a distance, it was a service he could perform to keep his young champion centered and able to function, despite the heavy duty laid upon her.

Kaz woke from first sleep with distinct unease. Enemies! She could feel enemies. Harkon had also sat up.

Kaz put a hand over Rynn’s mouth and shook her, and did the same to Zon. Night work was when they excelled. A few signals with one hand told them what she intended.

Harkon moved out of the tent on his elbows, and whistled between his teeth, to get the attention of Protasion and Svargia.

There were three cries of pain in the night.

Harkon grinned savagely.

Now he had a direction. A pine torch, a swift cantrip, and a strong, muscular arm, whose throwing landed the torch right in the middle of the group creeping up on them. Harkon reckoned there were eight or nine standing, confused by cries from those at the back of their party. Another went down with a yowl of anguish, and the whimpers of one of the others cut out with a gurgle. One of the others stamped out the torch.

Kaz knew nothing of how to use a crossbow, but her first, and now second, victim went down well enough for being hamstrung. They weren’t going to be fighting again unless they had good healing spells; and Zon was going round finishing off those they had wounded.

Harkon used his ability to sense enemy to fight in the dark with the unseen enemies; there appeared to be two who were better accoutred and nine or ten others.

By the time the trógling had brought down three more, Harkon had dispatched as many. The others tried to flee, and cries of terror told Harkon that this manoeuvre had proved unsuccessful. Protasion and Svargia flanked Harkon, unable to do much in the thin sickle of the blue moon, hidden by heavy cloud, and the others had got up, but were uncertain what to do.

“Report!” said Harkon.

“All down,” said Kaz, laconically. “We didn’t bother to take prisoners.”

“Intelligence might have been useful,” said Harkon, mildly. “Not that I can talk.”

Kaz sniggered.

“We know the layout of the place,” she said. “It’s a standard Alethosi temple. Circular with inner courts holding accommodation and practice rooms, the centre open as an arena like the glyph of truth. Off it from the command segment a corridor to the great temple which is the death glyph, the three ends holding armoury, treasury, and library.”

Harkon shrugged.

That was true enough.

And the Polosi scribe had seen inside it, and confirmed that.

“We do have a slight problem, however,” he said, kicking the fire into life.

“Tell us the worst,” said Protasion.

“Assuming these were from the temple, that makes them lay and initiate members of Aima – probably – and therefore the personal minions of one or more bloodsuckers, or vampires. I suspect we were to be grabbed in our sleep to feed him. Or her. These minions may have had spells to help them see in near total darkness.”

“Or artefacts,” said Kaz. “And we need to behead them so they cannot be made into undead.”

“We do,” said Harkon. “I’m sorry we haven’t had much rest.”

“I feel fairly rested,” said Kaz.

“Of course you do, you were dreaming dreams of being shagged senseless,” said Lelyn, affectionately. Kaz went the purple shade which was her blush.

“Not exactly,” she said.

“Near enough,” said Lelyn. “I had a good sleep, so did Kuros and Evgon. If you are truly rested, Kaz, why not go on watch with darksense, and we’ll bring in the bodies, strip them of anything useful, and behead them?”

Kaz nodded.

“That seems sensible,” she said.

There were no further alarums, but by the time the rosy fingers of Eaxis had drawn aside the curtain of the night for the ascent of her father, Solos, into the heavens, the attackers had been beheaded, and had revealed amulets bearing the glyphs of Death, Darkness, and Chaos. These were burned. The very glyph of chaos might wreak havok if it had been enchanted in the slightest. The two better equipped ones wore rings which, as far as Harkon could tell when he rose and looked over the equipment garnered, were rings of darkseeing.

“They should go to Svargia and Protasion as our best warriors, as you can sense the presence of enemies anyway,” suggested Kaz.

“Yes, I agree,” said Harkon.

 “The good news is, however, that we shan’t be facing these minions as well as undead,” said Kaz. “I wonder where they were when the previous party fled?”

“Possibly the scribe of Polos did not notice them because he fled at the undead,” said Harkon. “Or maybe they, and the vampire, were elsewhere, exploring.”

Kaz nodded.

“Well, I’d rather face the mindless undead than those with evil intent towards us when in a tight situation,” she said.

“I took the god-magic spell of ‘abjure undead’ when I underwent elevation to priest as well as lord,” said Harkon. “I am hoping to be able to at least make a number of them flee, so we can destroy them in detail later.”

“They use the death glyph in a perverted manner so they will be strongest in the desecrated temple,” said Kaz. “But the very stones were steeped in the worship of Alethos, so though it has become a temple for another god, it will be easier to break through that imposed chaos. Will destruction of the altar to Aima help?”

“Yes,” said Harkon. “It will briefly interrupt the bloodsucker’s connection to her.”

“My job,” said Kaz. “Stone altar?”

“Yes, a stone bowl for the sacrifice of blood,” said Harkon. “It will be protected by a guardian spirit.”

“I’ll have to start somewhere,” said Kaz. “I know rock manipulating cantrips.”

“Very well,” said Harkon. “I spearhead the attack with Protasion and Svargia at each side to back me up, our task is to get Kaz to the inner sanctum to deal with the altar, where we are also likely to find the bloodsucker. Who is my business. The rest of you are passing forward torches, firing crossbows, and dealing with any stray undead who slip by. Is that clear?”

“Clear,” he had the answer from eight firm young voices.

“The map is of immense value,” said Harkon. “The Polosi-hired party found a way in almost, it seems, by accident. We know the layout of the former streets around the temple and can enter by the commander’s door, right by the temple, to get the worst of this revolting job done as soon as possible.” He laid down the map on the ground for them all to see.

“I can find my way there, for I marked the shape of it in my own mind,” said Kaz. “And the streets. Moreover, we can follow our night-time’s playmates back.”

“You have point,” said Harkon, falling in behind Kaz to follow her.

They plunged into the many weeds and vegetation which had buried the city, every now and then seeing glimpses of worked stone, a plinth or portion of a pillar, a fallen portico carven in bas relief with some tale doubtless once common, now long forgotten. Vines and creepers wrapped the silent stones as if to preserve and shut away their long-forgotten secrets; vines with grapes on them, swelling in the late summer’s heat, almost ready for harvest, a harvest left now to birds and small creatures, not the careful housewife making the year’s wine from her household pressing, nor the temple wine-making for ceremony or for everyday imbibing. Melons and cucumbers cascaded in gay profusion of a mix of flowers and fruit already set, and fruit trees of all kinds were a reminder that these cities of old were rich and verdant places, with kitchen gardens to grow fruit and vegetables, the bright flowers of peas and beans now replaced, bar a few late flowers, with the hanging pods full of bounty.

“We could live here without trouble, if we brought in grain,” said Kaz. “If we can save any from the pigeons. Though we could eat them, too,” she added.

“They are doves, not pigeons,” said Harkon. “See, the remains of a dovecot; kept for food, or perhaps communication, sending messages.”

“It has much promise,” said Kaz. “Round the next corner, we should see the temple of Alethos, somewhat overgrown, but still clear enough.”

And as they came to the end of what had once been a narrow, residential street, the curve of the wall of the outer part was clear to see, the long, straight death glyph leading away from it.

“In the name of Alethos,” said Harkon.

“In the name of Alethos,” echoed the others.

The commander’s door was cleared.

And Harkon took the lead.