[ News ] [ Magazines ] [ Books ] [ Silver Age Bookshop ] [ Authors ] [ Entertainment ] [ Characters ] [ Info and Links ]

Part 3: The Wizard

[ Up ]

Because of this rather easy success against the cleric I was beginning to feel quite invincible, and so it was that I began to forget about keeping to the shadows. Also, I thought it likely that they would have found the remains of L’Horim by now so any search would be a thorough one and so speed became more important than concealment.

Thus it was that I came across the wizard, Kazmir. As most junior of the three magic-users he was required to make the daily checks on the troops, guards and the castle’s defences, and this was what I discovered him doing.

I heard a dark voice barking out orders to some underling, then I heard the tread of men’s boots. Casting my gaze about me for some place of hiding I saw a small wooden door set in a plain stone arch. It looked inconspicuous, possibly a closet or some servant’s room, so I tugged at the iron handle until it swung open with a low creak. I slipped inside, swiftly pulling the door closed as the small group passed me by, but keeping it a little ajar. Through the gap I saw six brawny Deodm, crossbreeds of men and orcs which took the intelligence of one and the inbred fighting qualities of the other. They stood on all sides of a brown-cloaked man, who I assumed to be the wizard as attached to his leather belt I could see an assortment of liquid-filled phials.

He wore no hood, and I could see his features quite clearly. The first thing to strike me was his bald head, covered with raised blood vessels which threatened to burst at any moment. His eyebrows stuck out from his forehead, leaving his eyes cloaked in mysterious shadow. A sharp, thin beak of a nose protruded from the centre of his face, contrasting with his thin face. He had much of the look of the miarna, a long-lived scavenger bird which lives chiefly among the lower reaches of Mount Iloii. It would be a pleasure to end this wretch’s life.

I opened the door while the last of the Deodm passed, a young one who was slouching a few feet behind the others, and rushed out at him. His throat was slit before he knew I was upon him. I let his lifeless body fall to the floor and turned to meet the others, now alerted to my presence. The wizard moved to the farthest end of the corridor, obviously waiting until his powers were absolutely necessary before he used them upon a mere human.

The Deodm were no gentlemen, ready to line up and fight me one at a time, and they rushed me as one man. Reaching down to my sock, I took out my small throwing knife and within an eyeblink it was buried in the chest of the soldier directly before me. Then I was launched into a whirling series of thrusts, parries and counter-thrusts as the remaining four closed with me. They were not magical creatures, so a blade-thrust from their scimitars would kill me as effectively as any other way. As I fought one of the toughest fights of my life I felt the same energy which I had felt before flow through my body, radiating out in soothing pulses from the sword.

“You are blessed, human,” I heard a female voice say. Apparently none of the other combatants had heard it, so I thought it either madness or a message from the Gods.

“You are not mad, human,” came the voice again. “You are destined for greater things than to die by the foul hand of Deodm. Fight well, champion!” Then the voice was gone, and I returned my full attention to the fight.

I found that the sword was almost fighting on it’s own now, and it seemed that none of my opponents had been aware of my message from the skies. Indeed, I saw that two of them now lay dead upon the floor, one with belly slit and innards oozing out, the other with his head cleft near in two.

Even as I launched a new attack upon the two that remained I heard a tinkling of broken glass, and a noxious purple gas began to rise from a place before my feet. The two Deodm began to gasp and splutter, and I stared at them in surprise, wondering what this ploy was. Then I looked towards where Kazmir stood, and by the astonished look on his face I could tell that this was no ploy of the Deodm. The wizard had thrown a phial of poisonous gas among us, prepared to sacrifice the lives of two minions to get me. It appeared that the magic of the sword had saved me once again.

Once the wizard got over his surprise he turned and began to run down the corridor away from me. I rushed after him until he reached the end of the corridor. A large steel door barred his way, and as he struggled to pull it open I lifted my sword above my head, as I would a spear, and flung it at him with all my might.

It flew straight and fast, and as Kazmir turned to meet my attack it caught him full in the chest, burying itself in him up to the hilt. He slumped against the door, blood spurting furiously from his mouth. I ran up to him and dragged my sword out of him, leaving a gaping hole in his chest, Being wary of his life-force still remaining, I removed the phials from his belt and emptied their foul contents into his mouth. Still uncertain, I thrust my sword through his thin cranium, breaking it like paper, and twisted it round a few times until I was sure that his brains were well and truly torn asunder. Now willing to testify as to the fatality of my blows, I wiped the sword upon his cloak and opened the steel door which he had been so eager to gain entrance through. Trepidantly I stepped through the door.