Chapter 36 – Confrontations
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                General Geralt headed towards the city gates at a good pace… not running, but not walking either.  About a hundred and twenty Callendish soldiers had gathered to him as he moved away from the palace, joining him in a large force, leaving much of the path between the gates and castle itself free.  Send me to my death, will he?  For what?  Maybe Geoffrey will be a better king – he certainly can’t be more of a prick than Michael!

 

                He was only about a hundred yards from the gate, when there was an ear-shattering crash, and the screams of dying and injured men as the gates exploded with the force of a bomb, shredding and mutilating the guards directly behind and to the sides of the gates.  The scene was so violent, and graphic that some of the soldiers with him threw up at the sight.  With a roar, Erevalish troops began pouring through the gate by the hundreds, and Geralt knew he was at a turning point.  If he surrendered to King Geoffrey, he and his men might live – though he might be counted as an honorless traitor – but if he didn’t surrender, then he and his men would die useless deaths in defense of a coward to craven to face his nemesis himself.  A man not worthy of his respect.

 

                The choice was easy.  As the horde of soldiers poured through the gate, he motioned for his men to kneel, and lower their weapons.  He stood tall, and faced the horde.

 

                “I am General Geralt of Callenden.”  He called in a loud parade square voice – a  talent learned from a long life in the military.  “On behalf of King Geoffrey Castiel Fowler, I surrender my men, and this city to you.”  Then, he knelt, and laid down his sword. 

 

                Geralt noticed the pleasant weather, and the warm breeze coming from lake Ascorian.  He could hear the gulls cawing over the harbor, even over the screams of the dying, and smiled, remembering several pleasant days on a boat with his wife, Kendal.   All that remained was to see if the attackers would be merciful.  If not, it was not a bad day on which to die, he decided.  At least that honorless prick, Prince Michael would likely get taken down too.  General Geralt waited.

               

 

*              *              *

 

                As Sir Fionn, the girls, and myself made towards the city gates, the men that had been surging into the city had paused – creating a bit of a bottleneck.  As we approached, they let us through, to see a Callendish officer, kneeling, unarmed – and a hundred and twenty men behind him doing the same – as well as the hundred or so men on the walls standing down, and waiting.

 

                Waiting for what? I wondered.  “What’s happening?”

 

                A soldier nearby said “I think he surrendered, Milord.”

 

                I nodded, and motioned for Sir Fionn to approach with me.  “Who are you?”

 

                The kneeling officer kept his head bowed, and said in a clear voice, “General Geralt Kincaid.  Are you King Geoffrey Castiel Fowler?”

 

                “I am.”

 

                “Then I surrender my men and the city of Callenden to you, Milord.  I will no longer work for a man that does not deserve my respect, gods help me for my treason.”

 

                “It is no crime to follow your heart, General Geralt.”  I said.  “You may stand.”

 

                Geralt stood, and dusted his cloak off, then looked towards me.  “You look a lot like your grandfather,” he said, smiling. 

 

                “I guess I do.  I said before that any who laid down their weapons, and left the field of battle would come to no harm.  I will honor that promise.  All of you!” I said in a loud voice.  “I grant you amnesty!  Surrender your weapons, and leave your posts and return to your homes.  None here shall harm you; you have my word as King!”

 

                The soldiers on the wall cheered, and threw down their weapons, and the men before me sighed in relief.  They would live another day.

 

                “General, where is Prince Michael?” Sir Fionn asked.

 

                “The last I saw him, he was on the western wall, watching the battle – but if I had to guess, he’s either fled to the castle, or gone seeking his mother, the Queen.”

                Rachel grinned.  “That will make it easier to find them.”

 

                “Aye, lass.” Fionn replied.  “But that may not be a good thing.”

 

                “Who here is an officer?”  I called out to my men.

 

                “I am, Milord.  I’m a sergeant at arms.  My name is Kent.”  The man looked to be in his thirties, and a grizzled veteran.  He had chainmail armor, and a decent spear and shield.

 

                “Alright sergeant.  I want you to take all of the men, save perhaps thirty or forty, and secure the city – subdue any resistance, and accept any surrenders with the grace I have already shown these men and women.   Try to kill as few as you can, and keep the damage to a minimum.”

 

                “Yes, Milord.  And the rest of the men you requested?”

 

                “They will join myself and Sir Fionn in taking the palace.  Queen Hemlock and her son must pay the price for what they have done.”

 

                “Aye, Milord!”  Sergeant Kent called out to the troops.  “I need thirty volunteers to seize the palace with King Castiel.  You… you, and you!  You’re with the king!”  He said, as he singled out thirty rather nervous looking men and women, who came before King Castiel and the sergeant.  “Follow his orders, and keep him alive.”

 

                “Aye, sir!”  They shouted.

 

                I looked over the soldiers arrayed before me, and saw some welcome faces.  “Ser Adric, Serra McLane!  Its good to see you hale and well.  How has the battle fared for you?”  Adric was the squire of a knight of Erevale, who had been brought to battle, and Tandy McLane was a militiawoman who had trained and fought hard for this.  I remembered meeting them last night, before the battle.

 

                “We… we are well, Milord.”  Tandy replied.

 

                “Good.  I’m glad you’re okay.”  I replied, meaning it.  “Ready yourselves.  We head to the palace – and we will be in dire danger.”

 

                They looked worried, but readied themselves, and I saw Morag quietly dipping a half dozen of her arrows into Alyssa’s anti magic potion, while Tika cast spells upon the arrows themselves.

 

                “What are you doing, Tika?”

 

                “I’m transforming Princess Morag’s arrows into Ironwood with my magic.  It will make them harder and stronger, so she can punch them through any armor, or something like a wooden door, if she needs to.”  Tika replied.  “I sometimes do it to peoples doors back in Enders Hollow, to make them more sturdy.  People pay good money for it.”

 

                “Cool.”  I replied.  “You planning on taking the shot if it arrives, Princess?”

 

                Morag smiled, and nodded.  “It would disappoint my nephew if I didn’t, plus it would give me great pleasure.”

 

                “Good.  Then if we’re ready, we need to go.”

 

                Fionn nodded, and turned to the troops.  “Surround us and keep pace. We head for the palace.  If anyone stands in our way, deal with them.”

 

                “Aye!” They shouted.

 

                We began to move.  The streets of the city were empty – everyone was either manning the walls, or hiding indoors.  Some houses were crushed or on fire – but right now we had more important things to worry about.  The palace awaited.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

 

 

                “Mother, we need to do something!”  Prince Michael exclaimed, storming into the room.

 

                Queen Hemlock, his mother nodded.  “And what would you have me do, my son?  This battle was yours to win – you had the superior force, a superior tactical position, and defensive advantage.  You couldn’t command the respect of your troops.  You couldn’t control your baser urges, and your people deserted you, and now you come to me to fix your problems, like always.  You’re such a damn disappointment, Michael.”

 

                “I know I screwed up, mother!  But what are we going to DO?”

 

                “I think the question is what are you going to do.  I believe Prince Geoffrey is after your head.  I don’t intend to be here when he arrives.”

 

                “You would abandon me?”  Prince Michael asked, in shock.

 

                “Why not?  You are and have been an utter failure in every way.  I only kept you because you were useful to me, and now your use has ended.  Our plans here have come to nothing – because of you, I might add.”

 

                “You could destroy them!  Aid me!  You have the power!”

 

                “Hahaha!” Queen Hemlock laughed. “You have no idea what true power is, boy.  If I were to use my power to destroy them, I would rule over naught but ashes.  You were the warrior – you were supposed to deal with these problems.  No, I’m afraid that this is your problem… now why don’t you do something useful before you die, and try to take him with you?”

 

                “Bitch!”  Michael spat, but held his hand from attempting to strike her.

 

                “Careful, my son.  I am patient to a point – but push me too far, and I will end you myself.”

 

                “At least help me!  I know you can give me the strength to defeat him and his witches!  Please!”

 

                Queen Hemlock studied her son before her.  He was a brute, a thug, petulant and petty – but he was a skilled warrior and a brutal fighter.  “You want strength?  That’s all?”

 

                “Strength enough to kill them all!  I’ll prove myself to you, or die trying!”

 

                “I guess you will.  Very well.  If you kill them, I will do my best to save you.  If you fail…”

 

                “If I fail, I die.  I accept that.”

 

                “So be it.”  Queen Hemlock swept her cloak over her shoulder, and began to chant – whispering and muttering, while moving her hands.  Prince Michael groaned in pain, and fell to his knees, swearing.  His body rippled and flexed – and the chainmail armor he was wearing split in several places as his body grew huge and muscled, bigger than a man – and then bigger than a giant.  In moments, Prince Michael was no longer a man – but a misshapen giant nearly forty feet tall, his magically enhanced muscles rippling with might, his face distorted in pain that was swiftly passing.

 

                “So…  This is power.”  He muttered to himself in a deep voice.  The palace throne room looked tiny to him, and his mother looked like a squashable bug – but he knew better than to try.  “I shall kill them all.”

 

                “Remember to slay the knight, Sir Fionn, while you’re at it.  He’s a thorn in my side that needs to be plucked.”

 

                “Aye.  Kill.”

 

“Rise my son.  Slay them, and earn my trust.  Go – I shall watch from the tower.  Prove to me you aren’t a waste of time and

effort.”

 

                “Aye.  Kill.”  Prince Michael rose, clad in rags and scraps of chainmail, and stood to his full forty foot height – taller than the tallest giant.  No – not a giant… A colossus!  He turned to his mother, and nodded, and left the great hall, heading for the gates of the palace.  “Kill Geoffrey.  Kill Fionn.”  He muttered.  They would all fall before him!   As he left the front gates of the palace, he pulled a large pole out of the ground to use as a club… it was about 15 feet from end to end, and a good 12 inches thick – but in his massive hands it looked like a willow switch, or a thin stick.

 

                He entered the courtyard and waited for his upstart cousin to arrive.  He was strong.  He was the strongest.  Geoffrey would fall!  Michael’s laughter boomed across the courtyard, hollow and deep.  It was vicious, and without humor.  Michael the colossus waited. 

 

            

                As we made our way through the city, I could see sections of the wall where the fighting had stopped.  Men and women were throwing down their weapons and surrendering.  Good.  The less death today, the better.  Our group of forty or so pushed on towards the palace of Callenden, meeting little resistance.  Soon, we approached the courtyard – and I couldn’t help but gape at what I saw…  A monstrous version of Prince Michael – at least forty feet tall, covered in horny plates of thickened skin, like armor, wearing scraps of chainmail and rags – awaited us, wielding a tree or a pole that looked like a willow switch in his hands.

 

                “Gods above!”  I muttered.

 

                Fionn turned to the troops.  “Fall back and take defensive positions.  Use your spears and bows if you have them – I fear there is little else you will be able to do.”

 

                “Aye, this fight is ours, Sir Fionn.”  I muttered.

 

                “We’ll find the queen.”  Rachel said quietly.  Princess Morag, who was beside her, nodded, as did Alyssa and Tika.

 

                “Then go – and stay safe, all of you!”  I said, emotion heavy in my voice.  I honestly couldn’t see how Fionn and I could slay that beast – but we had to try.

 

                “Trust in yourself, Castiel.”  Princess Morag whispered, and then kissed me on the cheek, before rushing off with the ladies.  Rachel nodded, and poked me in the belly like I was the Pillsbury dough boy.  “You got this, doofus.  I’ll be waiting for you.”

 

                “Aye.  Be careful.”

 

                “I will if you will!”  Rachel laughed, and ran off with the others.

 

                It made sense.  Let the warriors deal with the giant, and let the sorceresses deal with the sorceress.  That didn’t mean I felt a bit more vulnerable without them…  We were a team, after all.

 

                “Do you have any more of that bravado in you, lad?” Fionn asked.

 

                “You mean the part where I called the forty foot tall giant a craven coward, not worthy of his throne?”  I asked.

 

                “Aye, that part.”

 

                “Yeah, no.”  I replied.  “Let’s do this.”

 

                We moved forward, and entered the courtyard.

 

                Prince Michael, in his huge, mutated form, looked down on us with anger.  “Whelp!  I’ll kill you both!”

 

                “You’re an even bigger dick now, than when I met you last, Michael.  You sure you’re brave enough to face us?  Maybe mommy could make you sixty feet tall, so you’d feel the fight was equal?”  I replied, gods damn me…  Me and my big mouth.

 

                Fionn looked like he was going to say something appropriate – a witty retort, something classy, like he was – but whatever it was, it was lost in Michael’s scream of rage as he lurched forward to attack.  Fionn juked left, and I to the right – and the battle was on!

 

                Michael, or whatever was left of him inside that monster, came after me first – damn my loud mouth!  I felt and heard the crash of smashed stone as I juked and dodged, and felt the smashed chips of stone and mortar spray from behind me, where I had just been standing.  Calling out a prayer to the Twins, I channeled my energy into my blade – and I could feel it thrum with the power of the Twins, and see it begin to glow just a bit.  I took a slash at his massive leg, just above his hamstring – but the horny hide that clad his body deflected my blow.  I mean, I hit him – he was massive, and the blade sunk into his skin – but the hide we wore now was so thick that it did virtually nothing!

 

                “Damn!”  I yelled, dodging another crushing blow from Prince Michael, as I heard him laugh in his deep, booming voice.

 

                “You can’t hurt me!  Your swords are like pins!  I’ll crush you both!”

 

                Sir Fionn slashed at Michael’s leg, but once again, his blade was repulsed by the thick horny hide of the mutated and gigantic prince.

 

                “We need to come up with something, fast lad!”  Sir Fionn called out.

 

                “I’m thinking!  I’m thinking!”  I yelled, dodging another bone-crushing blow.  Michael in his giant-form was too armored to hurt – and just a bit too fast to easily dodge. 

 

                “Stop thinking!  Start dying!”  Michael roared, and swung again, trying to stamp on the two Vigilant’s facing him.  “I kill you!”

 

                Is it just me, or is he acting pretty damn stupid?  I wondered to myself.  Maybe it had something to do with his transformation?  I mean, Prince Michael was a coward and an asshole, but he wasn’t an idiot, and he could speak in multi-syllable words, so it must have something to do with his transformation.  I wonder what?   I saw a set of stairs nearby, and ran up them two at a time, bringing myself equal with his groin in height.

 

                “C’mon, Mikey!  Hit me if you can!”  I taunted, and Michael took the bait, charging across the courtyard towards me.  He swung his log weapon, and I dived off the ledge as it hit, slashing him across the stomach as I fell into a wagon full of hay.  I heard a deep booming scream, and landed with a thud, and felt the axle of the wagon crack under my weight.  Wasting no time, I dived out of the wagon, only to avoid being smashed to pieces along with it by Michael’s rage filled kick!

 

                Looking back towards the giant, I could see a nasty cut along his belly, and blood was trickling down towards his legs.  “His skin is thinner the higher you get!”  I called to Fionn.

 

                “How does that help us when we can’t reach past his damn knees?”  Fionn groused, while dodging another blow from Michael.

 

                I don’t know if it was inspiration, madness, or a penny drop moment.  I thought back to all the times Rachel – back when he was called David – and I were at his place or mine, playing video games on his PS2 or my Xbox 360, trashing this badguy or that.  I thought back to one of our favorites…  Could I?  Fuck it.  We’re dead if I don’t.  He wants to be a colossus?  I can deal with that.

 

                “Fionn!  I have a plan!  Trip him!  Get him to one knee!”

 

                “No tricks!  Just die!”  Michael screamed as he charged.

 

                Fionn nodded, and maneuvered near some debris that might do the trick.

 

                If this worked, it wasn’t insane, right?  I asked myself.  Fuck it!  I’m gonna do it.

 

                I ran to Fionn, and hoped my insane plan worked – or pretty soon, I was sure Fionn and I would be dead.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

                “Which way do we go?”  I asked hurriedly.

 

                “I think the throne room is this way, Rachel!”  Princess Morag replied, her bow in hand, an arrow nocked.  Alyssa followed behind, and Eoghan and Dunny were at their sides. 

 

                “Wait!” Alyssa called.  “We could search the palace for hours, literally.  I can do it faster.  Find me something of the queens – a handkerchief or a pillow, or even a glass with her spit on it.  I’ll find her in less than five minutes, promise!”

 

                “I think we should make for the throne room, then.”  Princess Morag replied.  “It’s closer, and if nothing else, there will be a pillow or a chair she sits on.”

 

                “Do you think she’ll be there?”   

 

                “I hope so, but no – she’s probably in a tower watching the battle, or possibly even trying to flee.  We’ve taken the city – she must know she’s lost.”  Morag replied.

 

                “Or she’s planning a counter attack with more giants.”  Tika chattered.  “Maybe she has more of them?”

 

                “Gods, I hope not, Tika.”  Morag replied, shuddering.  “If she does, we’re in very deep trouble.”

 

                While they talked and planned, Morag had kept them moving, and found the throne room – which unsurprisingly was not occupied.  They raced across the open throne room towards the throne of Prince Michael and Queen Hemlock, and I grabbed a velveteen pillow made of red and gold fabric.  “Will this do?”

 

                “Yep, that’ll do fine, Rachel.”  Alyssa replied.  “Objects carry memories of the people who use them – and the more you use something, the stronger the memory.  I can tap into that memory, and create a link with the person who caused it – and hopefully find out where she is.”

 

                “Then you’d better get going.”  I replied.  “Why haven’t we seen any guards, or servants, or… or anyone yet?”

 

                “I don’t know, but it worries me greatly.”  Morag replied.  “There should have been someone challenging us – or at least servants cowering or hiding from battle.  This is unnatural.”

 

                “I know.  I’m scared.”  Tika whispered.  “Where did they all go?”

 

                Alyssa ignored the other girls for a moment, and concentrated on the pillow… she could feel the connection between Queen Hemlock and it – it had carried her royal buttocks for years, after all – and she used her Sight magic to feel along that connection, seeking wherever the queen was at this very moment.  She was close – still in the castle at very least!  She kept pushing,  following the threads tying the queen to her possession – the pillow in Alyssa’s own hands.  Suddenly, with a ‘pop!’ her vision cleared, and floating before her, in her minds eye, was what she had sought…  even as she felt a minor drain of her strength as the spell completed.

 

                “She’s heading towards the quay on Lake Ascorian.  She means to flee the city by water!  She’s got monsters with her!”

 

                “The docks aren’t far from the Palace!  Come on!”  Morag shouted.

 

                Everyone began rushing towards the docks – Morag leading the way.  I turned to Alyssa, calling.  “What kind of monsters?”

 

                “I don’t know what you call them!  There’s two big manlike things that look like ogres, and there’s something else I can’t see clearly.  They’re escorting her to a boat.”

 

                “I have an idea!  Get me to a window!”  Tika squeaked.  “I’ll stop the boat – you catch her on the docks!”

 

                “Be careful, Tika!”  I called, worried.

 

                “I will be.  Time to use my flying cloak for real!”  Tika gave me a whisker rub on her cheek, and took off like a shot for an open window, flying maybe five or six times as fast as we could jog. 

 

In a second, she was gone – and we ran all the harder, following Morag through the palace towards the gates that led to the palace quay and the docks.  The palace had a separate dock and quay from the rest of the city, for the King and Queen’s own pleasure vessels and those of their court.  That’s where she would be.

 

Finally, we burst out of the palace, to see little Tika, far ahead of us, flying over the small sailboat waiting to take Queen Hemlock away to safety – with Queen Hemlock and her monstrous guards only just reaching the quay now.  They were about 80 yards away, and we had a distinct height advantage – the quay was at the bottom of a hill, near the water, while we were on the hill the palace was built upon.

 

The queen looked like she and her monsters had just noticed the flying speck that was Tika – when the ships mast exploded into splinters, shredding the sail and scattering the deck with debris and shredded cloth and rope…  Tika did a reverse turn, and swooped again, and the ship shuddered, groaning, but little seemed to happen.

 

The queen made a swatting motion, and Tika faltered, and fell from the sky, splashing down into the water from high up.  I reached out with my magic to try and break her fall – to try and save her.  She was really far away, and really high up…  I tried, but I don’t know if I helped, or not.  Tears fell down my cheek, and I felt full of rage.

 

“Tika!”  I screamed!  “That bitch killed Tika!  Kill her!”

 

“Tika!  No!”  Alyssa screamed!

 

                Princess Morag nocked an arrow and aimed for Queen Hemlock.  She drew the feathers back to near her ear, and whispered.  “For Tika.”  She fired.

 

 

*              *              *

 

 

Tika swooped over the small ship, careening through the sky like an acrobat, or one of Geoffrey’s “Airplanes”, and let loose with her magic!  Crack!  The mast exploded into splinters and wooden debris, and Tika could feel the drain of her casting pull on her fatigue.  She zigged and zagged, reversing for another run – aiming her blast this time at the hull of the small ship – only to see Queen Hemlock look up towards her, and make a swatting motion – like she was swatting a mosquito.

 

“Aaaarreargh!”  Tika screamed, a cry of agony and pain that had no language, as she felt indescribable pain hit her whole body.  For a moment, she felt blackness – and realized she was falling… then, she came too – still screaming – and seeing the water below fast approaching.  She tried to glide get her magic cloak to lift her – but her arms and legs weren’t responding right, and they were bending funny – she couldn’t get much lift.  She couldn’t think through the haze of pain, and prepared for her death.

 

Suddenly, she felt something – a gentle hand, a small lifting to her fall – slow her, and she realized she was being touched by magic.  Rachel must be trying to help her!  She could see the girls up on the hill, and the water coming closer, and she hit, but with far less force than she expected.  Instead of her instant death, she felt the impact, and felt overwhelming agony, and this time she blacked out again, as her brutalized and shattered limbs hit the water.

 

*              *              *

 

 

                Morag took aim at the queen, and fired.  The arrow arced through the air, whistling as it flew – and struck Queen Hemlock on the shoulder, piercing her, the head of the arrow emerging from her chest.

 

                “Do it again, Princess!”  Alyssa shouted.

 

                Morag nodded, and aimed another arrow… hoping that the drugged potion on the arrowhead was doing its work.  She loosed – and the arrow was intercepted by one of the massive ogres now making a human shield wall with their bodies, protecting their queen.  Queen Hemlock was screaming in pain, and one of her assistants, the winged creature that looked sort of like a woman with bird talons – a harpy, perhaps – picked her up in her arms.

 

                Meanwhile, I was watching in the lake for where Tika fell, not taking my eyes off that spot…  There were only two ways to reach her fast enough to prevent her from drowning – flight and teleportation - and I knew the latter one would probably kill me.  I just thought of poor, kind little Tika – my friend – and I drew upon my power.  You can’t die, little one.  Not today.  I won’t let you!

 

                I channeled the power, and pushed – and rocketed into the air…  after a moment of fatigue, the tiring drain of the spell’s magic hit me, I pushed on towards the lake, leaving Morag and Alyssa to stop Queen Hemlock.  I didn’t know how fast I was going, but it felt fast to me – the wind whipped my long hair behind me and dragged at my dress, but I didn’t care…  There!  I could see her… floating face down in the water, her limbs mangled by whatever twisted spell Queen Hemlock had done to her. 

 

                I gently picked her up in my hands, and carried her to the shore.  She seemed so fragile, and she wasn’t breathing.  I laid her down and started giving mouth to mouth resuscitation – I’d learned how to do it for babies and small animals like cats and dogs when I was in high school, so I did it now, while training my arcane senses to see how badly she was hurt.  The little touch of body magic I had recently learned might be all that was between little Tika and death!

 

                I was in a battle, no different from Morag and Alyssa – except that I was trying to prevent a death.  Come on, Tika!  Live!  I kept doing gentle chest compressions, and breathing into her lungs… and was rewarded a few moments later with a tiny cough and a spray of water, as Tika rolled to one side and spewed the water in her lungs out onto the ground.  We were both soaked, but I didn’t care. 

 

                I drew upon my power again, and channeled a touch of it to see how badly Tika was hurt – and it was bad.  Her arms, legs and ribs were broken – some in more than one place.  She was seriously hurt, and barely alive.  I had to act.

 

                “Tika!  Tika!  Can you hear me?”

 

                “Yes!  Owww!  It hurts!”

 

                “I know, baby.  I know.  I’m going to try and heal you.  It’s going to hurt more.”

 

                “Please, make it stop Rachel!  Aaagghh!”  Tika cried in pain.

 

                I summoned my power and began to heal her wounds as well as I could.  I wasn’t skilled enough in this form of magic to heal her completely, without burning myself out and going mad from the Call of Hrask, at least – but maybe I could take away some of her pain, and heal some of her broken bones?  I was afraid if I didn’t, she would never heal right… it was that bad.

 

                I felt the drain of my magic take me… I felt weak, tired – I felt pain as it burned me, too.  I screamed, fighting against the pain as I poured everything into Tika to stop her from dying, to heal the wrecked and mangled flesh in my hands.  I would show that this magic could be used to heal, as well as harm, gods damn it!  I felt her bones realign under my hands, to a more normal position, and I felt her squeak with pain – or maybe the relief of overwhelming pain – and darkness took me. 

 

 

*              *              *

 

                My second arrow hit the ogre again – to little effect… Oh, I guess I wounded it a little, but it wasn’t down and out – and it was still shielding Queen Hemlock with its massive torso and body.  Damn!  “Alyssa!  Can you help me take that ogre down?”

 

                “I… I don’t know.  I’ll try.” 

 

                “Good!  Where’s Rachel?”

 

                “She flew off to save Tika.  I think she’s over near the shore.”  Alyssa replied. 

 

                I nocked another arrow, this one not dosed with the anti-magic venom, and took aim.  This shot took the ogre in the back of his head, and I saw him crumple to the ground in a heap – but the other ogre stepped in the way.  The other winged creature – the harpy – gathered the queen into her arms, and ran for the end of the dock, and I swore in anger!  They were out of range! 

 

                Suddenly, there was a loud crack-boom sound, followed by what looked like a small explosion where the last ogre was standing, and where the Queen and her harpy had been only moments ago.  The ogre screamed, and looked like he was shredded and seriously injured – but the cry I heard from Alyssa told me she was hurt.  I turned to see her crumple to her knees, blood leaking from her nose, just before she passed out on the cobblestones before me. 

 

                Gods!  She must have drawn too much power… Kissed by the Void I think they call it.  Oh gods!  I rushed to her side, and said a prayer… she was still breathing, albeit shallowly.  I spared a look towards the queen – and saw her harpy servant carrying her away in its arms.  Dammit!   The ogre was slowly rising to its knees.  I grabbed my bow, and fired three arrows into him, until he stopped moving. 

 

                “Rachel!” I cried out.  “Rachel!  We need help!  Alyssa needs help!”

 

                There was no answer…  I did the only thing I could do.  I threw Alyssa over my shoulder, and carried her back through the castle.  If Geoffrey still lived, perhaps he or Fionn could help her.  What other choice did I have?

 

 

*              *              *

 

                “You have a plan?”  Sir Fionn asked, dodging a blow from Prince Michael that sent stone chips and wood splinters spraying. 

 

“Aye!  Get him on one knee, trip him, something like that!” I replied, running behind the behemoth that used to be my half-uncle, and slashing at the soft spot behind his knee… and although it wasn’t very soft, being covered in horny skin-like armor, I could feel my blade bite in, and saw him stagger.

 

Fionn saw, and moved to aid me…  We danced left, then right – him attacking the right leg and me attacking the left, and whenever Michael turned to deal with me, he struck – and when he turned to deal with Fionn, I struck – like wolves in a pack hunting their prey.

 

The courtyard was pretty much destroyed – walls, carts and stairways smashed by Michael’s blows – and Fionn and I slowly being run ragged with exhaustion dodging his blows.  Finally, Fionn’s blade struck a telling blow, and Michael fell to one knee – and I moved!

 

I ran up behind him, and leapt from his bent leg to the back of his loincloth – the remnants of his chainmail armor and the clothes he wore, and I ran along his back towards his head.  Michael roared, and clambered to his feet, and I jammed my fingers of one hand between the cracks of a horny plate of skin and another, and jammed my shortsword into his back as a handhold.

 

Michael screamed, and flung himself around left – then right – trying to dislodge me, while Sir Fionn tried to not get trampled in his panicked flailing.  As for me, I clung to him like a rodeo rider on a bucking bronco for close to ten seconds, until his flailings slowed, and then began climbing his back, using my sword and my free hand to make handholds by stabbing him, and leaping to a higher vantage point.  Whether it was by good luck or skill, I was at that point of his back where he couldn’t reach me – but if I climbed too much higher, he would likely grab me as I reached his shoulder. 

 

Using my shortsword as an anchor point, I drew the fancy dagger Alyssa had given me back in Ender’s Hollow, and stabbed him in the back once, twice, and a third time.  I heard him scream – and I think I was screaming too, but the adrenaline was flowing so powerfully through me I wouldn’t have noticed if a bomb went off.  I felt Michael stagger – Fionn was still slashing at him, mostly without opposition now, and I could tell what we were doing was working!

 

All of a sudden, Michael hurtled down to the ground, on one knee again – and I nearly got knocked off my precarious perch.  While he was kneeling, I hauled my grandmother’s blade from his back, and ran up to his head, while his hands and arms were occupied holding his massive bulk off of the ground. 

 

I saw Fionn slash Michael’s wrist – and saw more blood spray from the wound – and then I was at his neck.  “Feana!  Hathor!  Guide my hand!”  I called out in prayer, summoning my Vigilant powers to both smite him, and use the divine power to help my aim strike true.

 

I struck once, then twice, and Michael screamed as I slashed his neck… it was like cutting wood with a sword – but it cut, and blood poured down his neck and onto the ground in great rivers.  He reached up to try and dislodge me, and his other arm gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, throwing me a good thirty feet off his back to the stone cobbles.  I did my best to roll with the fall, but my left leg landed wrong, and I screamed as I felt the bones in my leg snap as I landed. 

 

Pain swam through my head as I fought to focus – and I vaguely heard and saw Sir Fionn attempt to coup de grace the once-prince of Callenden, but the deed was already done.  As Michaels lifesblood drained onto the courtyard cobbles, I heard a cheer from the men and women who had accompanied us… 

 

I reached through the pain, and tried to move my leg right, but I nearly blacked out – and I could see some bone poking through the skin.  Not good, I thought.  If I can’t heal that, infection will get me for sure.

 

Then Sir Fionn was beside me, kneeling, also wounded from a dozen minor injuries.  Battered and beaten – though not so battered as I was.  “Well done, lad.”  He said, handing me a leather glove.  “Bite.  This will hurt like hell.”

 

I nodded, and bit the glove – and groaned in pain as he set my leg.  I think I would have blacked out if it wasn’t for him using healing magic on me, and by the time I could think clearly again, he was looking pretty fatigued, and we were surrounded by our troops from the battle at the city gates.

 

“Hail King Geoffrey!  Hail King Geoffrey the giant-slayer!”

 

Sir Fionn looked at me proudly, and nodded.  “You did it, boy.”

 

“We did it. Together.”  I replied, shakily getting to my feet.

 

“We can argue the matter later, Milord.  You are victorious!  Hail King Geoffrey!  Hail to the King!”  He called, stirring the crowd. 

 

I couldn’t help it… We had come through fire and death, and fought monsters I never conceived of.  We defeated Prince Michael, and seized the city.  We had won.  Almost.  All that was left was Queen Hemlock.

 

“We need to find Queen Hemlock.” I said, as the cheers died down.  “Until she is dealt with, the job is not done.”

 

“Queen Hemlock is beyond our reach, King Castiel.”  I heard Princess Morag say.  “She fled, injured, in the arms of a harpy under her control.  She got away, but Alyssa needs aid, badly – and I strongly think Rachel and Tika do as well.”

 

“What!?  What happened?”  I said, rushing to Morag’s side, and helping her lower Alyssa to the ground. 

 

Fionn pushed me aside gently.  “Lad.  My King.  Let me tend to her – you should see to Tika and your future Queen.  Take Morag and save Rachel.”

 

“Thank you, Fionn”

 

“You’re welcome.”  He muttered, and knelt to heal Alyssa, while Morag took my hand and led me towards the rear of the palace. 

 

“I’ll explain everything on the way.  I don’t know if we have much time.”  Morag said.

 

I nodded, and we made haste.  We found Rachel lying on the beach, soaking wet and unconscious, next to Tika, who looked very badly hurt.  I knelt, and used the last of my strength healing them both.  They both looked pale as ghosts, and I must have looked stricken and scared, because Morag’s face mirrored how I felt when I looked up at her.

 

We had won the day… but at what cost?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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