The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) (41 page)

Samuel shot his splayed hand up towards the balcony and ‘Damn you, pests! Begone! I’m sick of you!’ he bellowed.

The crossbowmen wailed as their weapons exploded in their hands. Those that were visible fell behind the balcony wall. Others hidden beside them shrieked with pain. Whatever happened, the men were not seen again.

It looked like the battle was fairly evenly matched, even outnumbered as Leopold’s party were, but more dark-skinned figures now appeared on the balcony—bald and sashed with bands at their wrists.

‘Sorcerers!’ Leopold exclaimed.

The men held their palms outstretched with fingers opened wide. Amber streaks of power emanated, but all such spells turned aside.

‘Is that you?’ Leopold asked.

Samuel nodded. ‘Yes. These men are intriguing. See? They act almost as one. Their timing is impeccable. It strikes me as strange considering how poorly trained their soldiers are. Their teacher is uncompromising; much better than whoever trains their troops.’

The sorcerers gestured with their hands in unison, casting more spells.

‘Now they seek to bind us,’ Samuel said. ‘The same spell from all of them.’

‘How long can you protect us?’ Leopold asked.

‘All day, given their paltry skills,’ he said, ‘but we should leave this infernal room and get some space around us. I’m growing tired of this. I want to draw out their leader, not play with these underlings.’

It was then that steaming bags dropped onto the floor, thrown from behind the cover above. Pungent yellow smoke issued from the sacks, pouring through the coarse material.

‘Scour spice,’ Samuel said, taking a sniff, ‘and hogwurt. And something else.’

‘What’s that?’ Leopold asked with concern.

‘Sleeping agents. Vapours to overcome us and weaken my magic. Cover your nose.’

Several of the bags flew back up and into the balconies as Samuel gestured at them, but more and more of the things plopped down around them, several at a time. The vents and grates issued the same foul stench.

‘Damn them!’ Samuel said. ‘They have not been as idle as I presumed. They were ready for just such an event, plotting against Cang’s return.’

Orrell and his men were already down, collapsing within moments of inhaling the gas. Jessicah and Lady Wind were also limp upon the floor, overcome by the fumes. The Koian warriors from both sides were fighting at a fraction of their speed, staggering as they struggled against the effects of the vapour. Soon, they too would fall victim to the gas.

Leopold felt his legs turning to jelly beneath him, but then Samuel’s hand wafted before his face and his senses cleared. He slid his sword into its sheath before his fingers grew too numb to hold it.

‘Magician!’ called one of the sorcerers. ‘You have lost. Concede defeat.’

No sooner said, the man flew up into the roof, rolling over the balcony and tumbling to the ground, broken and limp as a discarded doll.

‘That will do you no good,’ called another sorcerer. ‘You will succumb to the gases eventually. You waste your precious time to escape, playing your games and hoping to sate your curiosity. Abandon your friends and flee!’

Lord Samuel looked to his left and right, and both doors blew open as if fleeing from his scathing glance, but it did little to thin the air. The gas clung to the floor stubbornly, refusing to move.

‘You cannot escape,’ the sorcerer added and then he, too, flew into the roof and was dead.

Still, there were plenty more of them in the room and the heavy vapour pouring from the sacks was slow in reaching their height. It stuck to the floor and hugged against the walls, crawling up anything it touched, a creeping yellow mist.

‘Let us go,’ Samuel said. ‘This is growing wearisome.’

‘We can’t,’ Leopold told him. ‘They have everyone. We can’t leave them.’

Samuel looked to the sleeping figures. ‘Damn them twice! They continue their spells to wear me down.’

He raised one finger and that was enough to release a savage spell. A ring of violence circled the balcony. The stone pillars cracked and vomited rubble as the line of power raced along them. The sorcerers were cleft in two, bright blood painting the pale walls: twenty sorcerers dead in the blink of an eye.

Eudan soldiers poured in through the broken doorways, their noses and mouths covered with moist strips of cloth. They charged at Samuel and Leopold, shouting battle cries with spears poised. They fell by the score as Samuel looked towards them, left and right in turn, but even more poured in.

‘Samuel!’ Leopold called fearfully.

‘Don’t worry. I can take as many men as they have to throw at us.’

And true enough, the bodies piled up in the doorways, but more Eudan soldiers clambered in and over their comrades to get at Samuel—a seemingly unending tide.

‘Oh, not more!’ Samuel sighed, for more sorcerers had already replaced the dead ones on the balcony above, nearly as numerous as the soldiers below.

The spearmen could no longer get in the door, so high was the pile of bodies, but the ones behind pushed until the piles fell and still they scrambled through.

A bead of sweat was creeping down the magician’s cheek and it gave Leopold cause for worry.

‘I need to clear this air,’ the magician declared. He looked to the wall behind him and half of it exploded outwards. Behind it was another wall, which also broke open, then another and another in rapid succession until daylight was visible across the grounds and through a dozen rooms and buildings. ‘Leopold, bring her closer to me.’

‘Who?’ the reluctant Emperor asked.

‘Jessicah, of course!’ the magician roared with little patience. ‘I cannot leave without her.’

Leopold did as he was told, presuming Samuel had a plan, and he dragged the sleeping woman over and laid her by his feet. All the while, he heard strange whizzing sounds as if invisible things were flying past his ears.

‘That’s enough,’ Samuel declared. ‘Stand close. Let’s go,’ he said. ‘We will return to the ship and come back for the others later.’

‘But we can’t leave them!’ Leopold objected.

He need not have bothered, for they did not go anywhere.

‘Damn!’ the magician swore.

‘What is it?’

‘The Great Spell will not form. They were expecting this also. Damn it! I cannot get us away.’

‘Then what shall we do?’ Leopold asked with alarm, for it seemed as if the situation was beyond control.

‘Take her, Leopold. Get Jessicah back to the ship. I can act freely once she is gone, but I dare not risk hurting her.’

Leopold looked at the woman. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’

‘Carry her!’ the magician roared. ‘Put her over your shoulder and run! I’ve given you the path.’ He glared towards the broken wall beside them.

Leopold shook his head. ‘I can’t run with her! They’ll catch me.’

‘You do it!’ Samuel bellowed and Leopold winced at the noise.

The scene was chaos around them, with men still clambering to be at them with their swords and spears, and sorcerers throwing their spells from above. Leopold realised the hopelessness of it all. Perhaps he could still escape, but the others were as good as dead already. Rei’s words echoed in his ear—this was his chance to see Samuel dead. He had no time to deliberate. He took a backwards step, edging towards the breach in the wall and his escape.

‘Leopold!’ Samuel said, glaring towards him. ‘What are you doing? Come here and pick her up as I told you!’

Leopold shook his head. ‘You should have acted when you had the chance. Now look what you’ve done! They don’t deserve this,’ he said, gesturing to Jessicah and the others on the floor, ‘but you do. This is what you get for being a devil, Magician!’

‘Leopold!’ Samuel roared again, in pain. ‘The voices have started. My demons have awoken. We cannot delay!’

There was a craving in Samuel’s eyes, a look of needing, of hunger, and Leopold felt terrified, dreading what would happen if he neared the man.

He eats souls, Rei had warned him.

Leopold backed into the fresh air, with yellow mist pouring out around his feet, seemingly following him, stubbornly clinging to his boots. Eudan soldiers were approaching from his left, still far away but closing towards him.

Inside, Samuel was picking up Jessicah. He took a step, labouring as if against chains that bound him to the floor. He stumbled and fell to one knee, with the woman still in his arms. He gazed at Leopold with utter contempt.

Leopold wondered if he had made the right choice, but it was too late now. Samuel should never have led them into such a situation or underestimated their opponents. Let the consequences fall on his head.

He prepared to run and Samuel’s last pained call held him in his tracks.

‘Leopold!’ the magician called, gently laying Jessicah onto the floor by his knees, placing her head upon Captain Orrell’s chest. He kept his eyes locked directly on Leopold as he commenced taking in great breaths of air, pulling the acrid gas deep into his lungs. ‘I forgive you, Leopold, but you had better come back. I’m counting on you to save us. Do what is right, Leopold! You are the Emperor!’

They were his last, choking words.

Leopold was forced to run, for the Eudan soldiers were nearly upon him. He turned and saw Samuel far away, kneeling in his black robes, with figures all about him, pummelling him until he fell, many of them succumbing to the gas themselves as they struck. Finally, the figure of the magician toppled over and vanished as the soldiers crowded around him, punching and stabbing.

Leopold was off again across the grounds and through the buildings, falling through the final crumbling hole that led out into the city street. He turned right and staggered alongside the outer wall, fearful at first that his disguise was gone and people in the street would recognise him as a stranger, but none of the Eudans gave him any more than a glance as he jogged along.

He found his way back the way they had come, out of the city and along the highway. Finally, and with relief, he came to the bridge where they had hidden their boats. Without a pause, exhausted, he trudged into the murky waters, glad to put Bodhi, The Heavenly City, behind him.

The Heavenly City

FROM THE RELATIVE safety of the marsh, Leopold heard the rush of guards thumping along the bridge. He stayed hidden, buried inside the stiff branches of one of the trees that thrived in this stagnant, brackish quagmire. Waiting for the cover of darkness, he dared not move towards the boats lest he bring attention to himself.

He presumed the sorcerers were busy in the palace and was thankful for that. Like Samuel, they could have found him if they wished, but one young man did not compare to the prize they had already won—the greatest of magicians in the world. Whether they had killed Samuel or captured him, Leopold did not presently know or care. His only thoughts were of making his escape, of getting back to the Farstride. After that ... he did not know.

He waited the long hours until night, barely daring to move except to relieve one cramped part of himself or another, letting the blood flow as best as he could. He lowered himself chest deep into the water, and waded the short distance to where the boats were stowed; at least, to where he thought they were stowed, for the small island of mud he had been observing all the while turned out to be empty. Looking closely, he realised it was not the right place at all. With only the strange call of night birds to fill the air, he swore softly. From clump to clump he searched, peering about in the dark for their boats.

The stars were tiny, brilliant pinpricks of light washed across the sky, countless specks of broken glass spilled upon a midnight blanket. The moon had not yet risen, making it difficult for him to find anything in the darkness. Thankfully, the stars reflecting upon the tranquil water helped him discern water from mud, sea from land.

At last he spied the nose of a vessel jutting from the shadows, and he pushed towards it feeling much relieved. He tossed the leafy covering aside and pulled the craft into the water, climbing aboard. The mud sucked at his waterlogged boots, threatening to pull them off, at last releasing him with a loud squelch. Exhausted from the effort, Leopold hauled himself onto a wooden seat and breathed a sigh of relief.

With the air so hot and muggy he was in no danger of freezing to death. It was only the clouds of buzzing mosquitos that caused concern. They threatened to drown him with their bodies, pouring down his throat if he inhaled at the wrong time, sending him into a coughing fit. He soon learned that their high-pitched humming gave them away and he made sure to hold his breath when the noise announced their approach.

Manning the oars alone, he pointed the vessel out to the sea. It was no easy task in the dark and he kept snagging the longboat on sticks and branches, and seated backwards as he was to row, he was constantly forced to turn his head to see where he was headed. Finally, the cluttered marsh grew thinner, marking the start of the inlet and the sea.

Now his task again became difficult. There would be no problem navigating between the islands; he just had no idea which way to go. He had not paid attention on the outward journey, presuming Samuel or the Koian women would do the job of guiding them home. Frustrated, he set off towards the nearest shadow of land, planning to scour the islands one by one until he found the ship.

It took several hours and his arms were aching from the strain, but finally he found a glimpse of hope. A glint of light flashed far ahead and Leopold steered towards it. As he made around a piece of rocky ground, the Farstride came into view, glowing brightly with her many rows of lights in the cabins and many lanterns lit along the decks. It was strange, he thought, that the boat should be so illuminated. It did nothing to maintain secrecy.

What he saw next answered such questions: circled around the Farstride, each tiny by comparison, were a half-dozen other vessels.

‘Damnation!’ Leopold swore.

He halted his rowing and listened intently, letting his boat drift along by its own accord. There was no sound of conflict, so he imagined the Eudans had already overpowered the whole crew. He took off his boots and shirt—all of them stained brown with sludge—and slipped deftly from the side of his boat and into the water.