Authors: John Buttrick
Teal light shot from Taltin’s emerald tipped golden baton, struck the ceiling and echoed throughout the corridor. The guardsmen’s heads did not explode because of the indirect focus, but it did stun them long enough for Serena to change from a cone shield to a forward one. “Onward!” she shouted while summoning potential, torrents of energy filling her for one of her favorite Melodies. She dropped the shield and focused the potential for the other spell through her emerald tipped diamond baton. A golden lightning bolt arched out, striking one halberd wielding guardsmen, and then another and another, each one being flung back into his fellows with fatal burns in the center of his chest. Sh
e laughed and kept firing.
DuCret launched blade after blade of solidified air at the men on the stairs, heads and various body parts went flying, and blood was spraying everywhere. Duggan began to laugh as she shot off miniature fire balls, about the size of marbles, at any guardsmen she could draw a bead on, burning little holes through their bodies. Ronan fired a chartreuse beam through his silver baton, striking a bowman, causing the man to drop his weapon, scream in total agony, and keeping him in that state until the man’s heart burst. Agony was a useful spell. A brief strike stunned the recipient while a sustained focus c
aused convulsions and death.
In moments all of the defenders were dead and the way up to the next level was clear. Serena started up the stairs, stepping around some of the bodies and kicking a head, a hand, what ever appendage was in her way. She cancelled, Lighting Tap, and resumed her forward shield. A boom, followed immediately by intense heat, sounded from behind. She glanced back to see guardsmen in the corridor behind her team firing fruit-sized balls of pitch from five tubes mounted on tripods. Lorrin Temmon was enveloped in flames, screaming and thrashing his limbs right up to the moment he dropped dead. It seems his survival instincts were not better than the rest, for the members toward the back of the group, unlike him, all had their shields to the rear, trusting the team members in the front to guard them in that directi
on. Lorrin was not so trusting.
Duzolta aimed his baton, focusing a red-orange beam at one launcher after another, freezing each one to the point they became brittle, fell over, and shattered. He then focused on the men. In rapid bursts, he struck each member of the firing crew, who were attempting a retreat. Ferret’s beam had the exact same effect on them as it did their weapons; they fell to the ground and shattered on impact.
“Keep moving,” Serena ordered and made her way to the top of the stairs.
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Brais Bencaldrin cursed and flung blade after blade of solidified air at the guardsmen on the wall. Ana Tigress was twenty strides behind and to the right of his position on the field. She was one of the five who got caught between offense and defense early on. Flaming balls of pitch enveloped her and her mount, but the scrappy girl recruited from the Mount Geble region was far from dead, unlike her horse, which was now nothing but cooked meat. She was hiding in the grass, casting Agony at anyone she could focus on. Franklin, Deblin, Jedrome, and Shela Jurast were not so fortunate; they burned along with their mounts. This was not going the way Brais had imagined. Those balls of pitch were a force to be reckoned with, and the arrows raining down were nearly impossible to see in the night. The commoner Captain alternated his attacks, making it difficult to anticipate when it was safe to switch from shield to offense.
Carlson, still on horseback, was attacking the commoners with, Rapid Fire, little spheres of flame that shot into his focal point in half-second bursts, and seared holes through any flesh that happened to be in the way.
Benton, on the ground, horse dead, was throwing the standard fire balls and occasionally enveloping the head of any guard that came into sight above the sheltering wall. Bursell and Grendor were following Brais’ example and launching blades of solidified air. Sorrel lay dead with arrows in his throat, shoulders, and right leg.
“Maybe you should pull back the sasquatches, they’re dying at a high rate, we will run out of them if you keep using the beasts as fodder,” Warren Tatum shouted from the back of his black Taracopian war horse, which was practically invisible in the night. “The commoners still have over twenty launchers we need to take them out.”
Brais did not need advice from a third level Talented, although the assessment was accurate enough. Half the sasquatches were dead, too many of his Aakacarns were dead, and Serena still has not signaled completion of her mission. If he let up on the assault the guards would be able to focus all of their resources on her team and the entire reason for coming to this Tarin Conn forsaken swamp would be a failure. “I agree,” he told his second in command. “You and Carlson, shields on, levitate above the enemy trajectories and rain all condemnation upon their heads.”
“As you command,” Tatum replied, and then placed an amulet against his foreh
ead, communicating the command.
Moments later he and Carlson floated off their horses and up out of sight. Brais could see each one glowing with potential but the commoners would be blind to them, until death came upon them from above. Fire balls fell from the sky, striking into the compound on various positions along the wall, causing secondary explosions to flare up. Men scrambled to extinguish the flames even as the two Aakacarns above them continued their assault. Sasquatches were leaping and gaining the walls. Brais could taste victory. Th
e commoners were going to fall.
Eighteen balls of flame shot up into the air, nine sailing instantly into each of the Aakacarns raining fire from above. Two flaming bodies fell from the sky. Brais cursed, swore, and then grew angry. He summoned a shield above his head, tied that off with a Da Capo, and then cast, Sonic Boom, sending a saffron beam of light focused through his golden baton to the wall directly in front of him. Power surged in him. The potential for this spell was visible to the commoners. Let them see it and cower in fear. The fools launched balls of flaming pitch at him, but his shield deflected them back up and over beyond the tree line. He sustained the beam and his focal point on the wall began to crumble. It would take awhile to break through five cubits of stone, but there was no doubt in his mind he could do it. The sonic boom was cracking the stones, on the verge of bringing that section down; and he co
ncentrated fully on that goal.
A sharp pain in his right side interrupted his concentration. Looking down he saw fletching sticking out of his waist. Men were in the grass, impossible, but there they were. He summoned the potential for, Blades Of Air, but an arrow took him in the throat before he could focus on the puny commoners who had dared come out to face him. Brais Bencaldrin, the Butcher, t
oppled from his horse and died.
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Serena continued down the hall with her team right behind her. Corridors intersecting to the rear and coming up ahead were perfect places for ambush. Duzolta and Duggan were in second and third position with Straifer and Ronan fourth and fifth, while Taltin, DuCret, and SuTamkin shielded the rear.
With shields both forward and back they jogged toward the iron door at the end of the hall. “That’s where we need to be,” Ferret confirmed.
“Stay alert,” Serena cautioned everyone.
The walls and ceilings had squares with circles in the middle of each one. This area had no fixtures for torches so anyone visiting the treasure room would have to bring their own light source, which was not surprising. The people entering this area would have torch bearers and anyone else had no business being here. Serena’s own golden potential along with the hues of her team was more than sufficient to see by, not to read a book or scroll,
but enough for their purposes.
She heard a loud click and needle sharp steel rods, about finger width thick, sprang right and left from the walls in the section of corridor she just passed. Cries of agony drew her gaze all the way to the rear. The rods were projecting from the circle within each square on both sides of the hall at about three cubits above the floor. Ferret and Duggan were close to her and unharmed. Carolyn Straifer was not so fortunate; skewered with both arms pinned to her torso, rods having pierced her at just above the elbows and into her chest. With eyes widened in apparent disbelief, she opened her mouth as if to express some final words, blood gushed out, and whatever she wanted to say would forever remain a mystery. She went limp, but did not fall, being suspended by the rods.
Ronan had turned his shield to block the rod on the right and took the one from the left directly into his spine where it projected out from about where his navel should be. Paralyzed, with his intestines ruptured, he did not take long to die. Taltin, DuCret, and SuTamkin were far enough back not to have been affected.
Serena put a Da Capo on her forward shield and aimed her baton at the rod nearest her and summoned the potential for, Freeze, and froze each rod, making them brittle. The ones holding her comrades shattered, dropping them to the floor. DuCret focused, Club Of Air, and
broke apart the remaining rods.
“Dome shields going forward,” Serena commanded as the others made their way past the bodies and joined her.
It was clear Duke Cantor knew exactly what he was protecting. The defenses of this compound and the corridor leading to the treasure room were far more extensive than any Serena had ever seen, especially from commoners. Aakacarns can prepare nasty surprises for trespassers, which was expected, but these powerless-nothings were showing themselves to be not so impotent.
She led her team past several intersections, no attacks came, but that did not mean none would be coming. Steel rods suddenly sprouted from the walls, striking her shield, and coming to a stop. She and all of her team would have been killed if not for the dome shields. They had one more intersection to cross, if anymore resistance was coming, it
would have to be from there.
Eighty men, half from the right and the rest from the left, running with halberds in hand, came from the final intersection. They crowded the hall in rows of five. Serena hand signaled Ferret and Duggan to shield her right and left, in the event anymore rods sprang from the walls, dropped her shield, and then focused, Sonic Boom, through her baton. A golden beam of light shot forth into the Royal Guardsmen, the first rank fell while holding their heads, until they exploded within their helmets. Serena maintained the potential with a beam wide enough to take in the entire corridor and watched as men dropped their weapons, grabbed their heads, and died. She did not stop even after they were dead, focusing on the door at the end of the hall. The sound waves were causing the entire building to shake. Cracks appeared in the door and after she tightened her focus, the iron barrier broke apart.
She released the potential and then cast, Lift, and moved the eighty bodies, making a clear path to line her way. Inside, the treasure room was filled with jewels, gold, silver, all sorts of valuables, but she cared little about those. Tables, upon which were stacks of gold and silver coins, with a chair at each, occupied the center of the floor. Shelves with bulging sacks stood in rows, and on three walls were twenty small vaults within the vault, and every one of them had a key lock. “Duzolta, scan for the trumpet,” she ordered.
Ferret glowed with potential while Taltin and SuTamkin shielded the entrance, and Duggan began helping herself to the jewelry, a diamond broach, a necklace, and a few rings. DuCret stood in the middle of the floor trying to see every which way at once, possibly afraid of more traps, which was wise on his part.
Ferret was shaking his head even before opening his eyes. “There is just too much gold in here. I cannot distinguish the difference,” he admitted, perhaps nearly as disappointed in his failure as Serena.
“It will take time to break open every vault,” Ursula Duggan pointed out.
“Reinforcements will be arriving soon,” DuCret needlessly added his opinion. “There could be traps in here.”
It never stood to reason Duke Cantor would leave the trumpet of
Tarin Conn lying around in the open, nor would the man allow such a valuable item to be easily assessable. Serena gave the matter some thought. The crescendo had been taken from the Supreme Maestro by Della Lain. How the instrument ended up in the care of the Ducaunan royal family might never come to light. She had to admit, if Della Lain made the call, it was a good one. No member of the Serpent Guild even considered this kingdom as the hiding place, and certainly not in this wretched swamp. The discovery was made by the informer in the royal court, who had to be someone with direct and confidential access to the Queen. Serena tried to think of what she would do if she wanted something hidden and left the care of it in the hands of non-Aakacarns.
“Serena, what do we do?” Ferret asked, while he too palmed some of the jewels.
“We think like Della Lain,” she replied and received blank stares in return.
An idea popped into her head and she rubbed her hands, summoned the potential, and scanned for gold in each of the small vaults. It did not take long, she only needed to concentrate for a moment on each one, and discovered; of the sixty vaults, twenty-three were not filled with gold. Then she scanned for silver among those twenty-three. Nine had no silver. She scanned for d
iamonds, three had no diamonds.