CHAPTER 3 – MAGIC IS POWER
The sounds of the celebration echoed out of the valley and around the hills that surrounded Croweheim. Only the night watchmen looked miserably onto the merriment going on within the town, counting away the time to the end of their shifts. In Croweheim the town watch were unusually respected as all military men took their turn at guard watch via a rota system, with little petty crime they spent most of their time on the winter shifts picking up drunken men from the frozen ground, thus many men owed them their lives. Several drunken revellers had spilled out of the drinking halls arm-in-arm singing loudly, others were urinating down a side alley. The watch rounded the corner and redirected the desperate pissers to the nearest outhouse and for their pains received several sarcastic comments about enjoying their time on stag whilst everyone else got drunk. Unseen by the townsfolk, the dark cloud descended lower over the town – the distant enchanter’s spell-weaving driving it on. Saznack needed to stoop in the low-roofed cave to ensure a good view of the magic events unfolding before him through the vision spell.
‘You’re too big to be a Wizard,’ muttered Bellack observing his companion’s awkward stance. ‘I wouldn’t want to bump into you on a dark night, with your bald head and stupid tear drop tattoos on your cheek, I would think you a common street thug, not a spell binder.’ He continued his mockery.
‘My tattoos symbolise the tears that I shed for anyone who is brave enough or stupid enough to cross me, so you see I am a compassionate man. Oh yes, I am a big thug and had I not known you better I would think you a petite woman with your dainty little frame and long groomed hair. Perhaps you will find out how big a thug I am later,’ Saznack replied and winking at Bellack he sucked in his cheeks and pursed his lips in jest, whilst making a mocking movement of a lady flicking back an imaginary head of hair.
‘Go and get some meat on you, my little fairy.’ Saznack retorted.
‘Ha, enough of this foolery Saznack - it is time to act. Observe. The second front starts in Nordheim and the war starts tonight, we will show those fools the error of turning down our generous offer.’ Concentrating hard and chanting several words of power, he sent a massive lightning bolt fizzing down from their controlled cloud into the town.
In Croweheim, several hundred leagues away the fire rained down into the settlement sending burning debris and hot timber crashing down upon the revellers below. A secondary lightning bolt thundered down from the dark cloud, as if flung by the thunder God himself. Fire quickly erupted in the stricken buildings.
The townsfolk were knocked from their feet by the shockwave and not all were able to get back up. The cries of frightened children echoed from a nearby ruined building and a man ran out screaming, his clothes ablaze and he flailed about on the ground in his attempts to put out the flames. The crystal-laden wagons of the baggage train hissed and fizzed with an unearthly power, their canvasses were blown far into the night from the shock waves that rocked the town. As forks of magic pulsed around the streets it took its hold of a wagon filled with yellow crystals which promptly exploded, showering crystals around the town. The stones landed and continued to move like a thousand landed fish as the crystals moved with the magic inside them. Where they landed they smashed and left eerie flickering spots of light amongst the blazing roof tops and streets. Another bolt of lightning flew from the dark cloud into the town.
The town’s rune-master emerged from his solitary hut, bare-chested and driven mad by the horrifying vision he had just witnessed. He was not about to allow this magical assault to continue and, with a quick prayer to his God, he raised his staff into the air as yet another thunder bolt came descending from the cloud and struck him full on, great sparks arced about his outlined form as he struggled to maintain his magical defences.
‘Well, well it looks like we have a hero here,’ commented Saznack back in the cave.
‘Witness the power of the crystal,’ boomed Bellack and a blinding flash filled the night. For a second the Nordheim shaman seemed to resist the growing intensity in the sky above him, but then a second larger pulse of magic filled the air. A burning staff and circle of scorched ground were all that remained where the rune-master had once stood.
For a second, silence surrounded the town. The townsfolk nearest to the selection of mixed and scattered crystals fell to the ground first. They dropped as if pole axed, foaming at the mouth and screaming in pain. One man fell to his knees repeatedly smashing his forehead to a bloody pulp on a fallen beam. Next the cartloads of red crystals shattered, exploding like popcorn sending razor sharp crystal fragments in all directions. As the fragments hit flesh they burrowed their way under the skin of the folk nearby, as if alive the shards acted with a will of their own. Soon after, a bearded guard’s chainmail vest burst open as the man’s bulk grew rapidly, the guard seemed to double in size. There were no sounds coming from his open mouth as he gasped for air like a landed fish. As the shards of crystal moved of their own accord under his skin, his flesh changed consistency, giving it an unnatural texture akin to molten rock, his human features slowly disappeared and were replaced by hideous craggy lumps. The man’s eyes gave one last twinkle of humanity, then slowly glazed over as his enlarged form froze.
Athene could have sworn she heard a distant laughter as all hell broke out around her. The impact of the blast had sent her flying into the middle of the heap of warriors. One minute Corvus had come over to compliment her efforts in the feasting event and the next she was wearing him, not quite the way she had envisioned getting to know him. As darkness enveloped the hall, Athene began the task of untangling her sore limbs from Henrick and Corvus, she pushed at the charred table smothering her face. Gasping painfully for breath she slipped her slender frame out from under the king’s cold armour.
‘To arms men.’ Shouted Corvus in his native tongue, but instead of the expected sounds of swords freed from their scabbards and the clattering armour as his men jumped to heed his command, an unnerving sound filled the hall.
The damaged roof fell inwards sending a burning beam across the room illuminating a hellish scene that would remain with Athene for ever. Bodies littered the sawdust floor, twitching and foaming at the mouth, their faces matted with blood, hair and sawdust. Others spat out bodily fluids and shook uncontrollably; a group of merchants that had been displaying a selection of red crystals screamed as their body-mass expanded and grew. Red veins protruded and glowed from what had previously been men. They were grotesque and their new forms continued to grow, emanating a reddish glow throughout the remains of the hall. Others affected by the yellow crystals remained the same size, but their features twisted grotesquely and were transformed into scarred ugly creatures barely recognizable as human. A cool breeze blew through the ruins, appearing to blow away the sound of the men’s screams; then a sudden stillness descended upon Nordheim.
‘Very good Bellack,’ Saznack congratulated him by slapping him hard across his back, almost knocking the breath from the smaller man.
‘Did you take me for a mere conjurer of flowers Saznack? It was bloody magnificent,’ roared Bellack.
‘I hate to admit it Bellack, but I am genuinely impressed at how you managed to project the spell so far. Tell me, how was that possible?’ Saznack queried excitedly.
‘As I said to you before, it’s all in the power of the crystals. They act as a catalyst to the magic, they absorb the spell and then project it onwards, but instead of diminishing the magic it is actually multiplied. Now that their power has been expelled, we must be careful that we don’t lose control of our new pets,’ cautioned Bellack.
‘Well I suppose that if your impressive display was all down to the crystals and not your own magic – then the display was just mediocre for a dullard of a magician, I bet you that my slave could do better with maybe two weeks’ training,’ laughed Saznack.
‘Ah come on you are ever the optimist,’ countered Bellack, ‘It would take at least a month.’
‘Well, great conjurer I bow to your better time keeping and knowledge, now what’s next?’ enquired Saznack.
‘Well as long as the others have done their job correctly, we gather up our friendly little mob from Croweheim and head through the gates to join the bigger party,’ explained Bellack.
‘Killing everything in sight?’ asked Saznack.
‘But of course, after all this is war, now you are starting to get a feel for the game.’ Bellack laughed. ‘Pick a colour, any colour - red, yellow, blue or green,’ he continued.
Saznack thought back to the start of the attack and transformations. ‘I think that red looks like the most fun or perhaps… no, no I’ll definitely take red.’
‘Oh wait.’ Bellack interrupted Saznack’s musings.
‘Look down there, we seem to have a slight problem – some of the population have not been transformed.’
Saznack peered down at the conjured image of the town before he sarcastically remarked. ‘Hmm, as I mentioned to you before - sloppy work.’
Bellack glared back at him, his face betraying his rising anger at Saznack’s jeering words. The changing tone grated him.
‘Inconceivable. They must be dead. None could withstand the combined might of the crystals and my powers,’ he snapped.
‘Well you had better explain that to them - look again there, that looks like movement to me, human movement.’ Saznack smirked, amused by his superiors frustration.
‘How can this be?’ Bellack’s clipped tones showed his anger, which was now directed at himself.
‘Even a dispel seal or a relic would not have stopped the transform spell, how many survivors are there?’
Saznack peered down again at the distant image, counting out loud ‘One, two, three, four, five men, no, actually make that four men and one woman.’ He turned his attention back to Bellack, ‘It’s not a problem, I will make sure they are killed by our new playmates.’
‘No, I want them alive,’ snapped Bellack. ‘They should have been transformed with the others, I need to find the source of their power that protected them, maybe this could even open some new paths that could bring us closer to our goal.’
Athene hoped to God that she was caught up in some kind of dream - perhaps her head had been battered too hard by one of the armoured men flung into her? All around her the townsfolk and the warriors were pulling themselves to their feet, one slowly turned to face her, his green dilated eyes made her recoil in fear. What had happened to these people? These were no longer humans. Others stumbled around, misshapen with the oddest glints reflecting various colours from their eyes in the bright moonlight. Only one thing united the seething mass of glinting colours and misshapen skin on these creatures – they all had the same uncomprehending eyes. Suddenly, as if on a parade ground, they all moved in unison, even the children and pets within the town. They all, slowly and menacingly, turned to face the group of five.
Athene instinctively backed away; cowering behind Henrick clinging to his arm like a frightened child. The small group around Athene had somehow remained unaffected by the cursed magic that had surged through the town. The old half-blind bodyguard assigned to watch Athene in the kitchens stepped forward, his sharp axe raised threateningly, poised to strike the first creature that moved in their direction. Corvus’ hands desperately rifled through the debris searching for his own axe which he had dropped in the confusion. Tull, the kitchen hand, felt a warm trickle of urine run down his leg as the crowd of monsters and misfits turned on the group.
Corvus stopped his search for the axe and grabbed a nearby broken oak table leg. His immediate need for any kind of weapon was far more pressing. Swinging the improvised club directly around into the forehead of the nearest advancing zombie-like merchant, with a sickening snap that jarred his arm, Corvus felled the man with a single blow.
‘Ah, good.’ An evil smile spread across Corvus’ face. ‘They die just fine.’
Henrick looked around for the quickest exit. He had as usual made a mental note of every exit when he first arrived, but the landscape of the burning hall had changed dramatically since he had last scoped out the place. They all felt the wind blowing on to their faces through a great hole where a fallen beam had smashed directly through the great hall’s wall, they instinctively moved towards the source of the cold air - to their right. A spear whistled past Corvus’ nose and, moving with the instinct of battle, Corvus swung around on the mob. Quickly improvising, he flung a nearby bench in the direction that the spear had just come from, attempting to slow any pursuit. Spotting a half eaten turkey leg begging to be picked up he rapidly scooped it up from the floor on his way out, blowing the excess sawdust chippings from its skin he quickly stuffed it down his top as he followed the others. He never passed up an opportunity to pick up food, he had learnt this lesson after being separated from his raiding party’s after a blizzard interrupted their battle. He had packed light that day and had been so hungry during his long return that he had eaten the leather from his belt.
The bedraggled group navigated their way through the final debris of the Hall and squeezed through the breached and smoking wall, but as they gulped in the refreshing mountain air, a hand shot out and grabbed Athene’s leg. Ralf’s glazed and dead eyes stared up at her as he crawled towards her, his skin green and deformed. It repulsed her and she screamed and kicked out at him, as she pulled backwards Henrick’s sword lashed out and severed the hand.
‘Quickly this way.’ he yelled ‘They are coming from all directions.’ Athene felt sick as she shook her foot like a dog with an itch until the dismembered hand fell from her ankle. Yet she had little time to feel pity for poor Ralf as firm hands took hold of her and bustled her along the street as the growing panic of her situation began to overwhelm her.
They ran full pelt for the shattered town gate with the gruesome townsfolk following. An oversized crimson hound with mottled skin lumbered out from a side alley, its muddy drool spilling to the ground as it sized up the humans. It growled and leapt at the group, but its new found bulk made the ugly hound misjudge the jump, missing its target. The hound landed short, skittling into the group hard, its clawed feet grating over the frost-covered cobbles as it desperately tried to regain its balance. They were all bowled to the ground by its impact apart from Corvus, whose huge hands quickly clamped around the hound’s mouth and throat before it had the chance to inflict a bite. The struggle was desperate but short - Corvus’ biceps bulged as the hound’s neck was twisted backwards and snapped. Three silent humanoid forms appeared from the alley behind them and lumbered towards the group, blue and green light emanating from their eyes; Corvus swung the dog’s body with both hands at the newcomers, using the animal as a flail he battered the figures to the ground. More figures gathered in the darkness behind.
‘Quickly,’ Henrick called. ‘Get out of the town and up the hill, it may slow their pursuit, move it before they regroup and overwhelm us.’ They needed no further prompting and ran for their lives, the cold mountain air numbing their throats with their forced excursion. The inhuman mob silently reformed after them.
One oversized possessed rider burst through the wooden stable door. He sat on top of a red fluxed horse that was as deformed as its rider. It snorted out its misty breath that gathered in a hazy cloud in front of it, obscuring the evil look in its eyes, without any command from its rider the mount jumped ahead of the forming mob, an eerie red glow surrounding the pair. Galloping up the incline of the hill side they easily covered the distance to the fleeing group, the rider’s demonic gaze focussed on the slowest of their party. The possessed rider, once a proud Nordheim noble but now reduced to a large deformed pawn in a magician’s game, barely fitted into his broken mail shirt and ripped clothing. He leapt from his steed onto Tull’s back, his large rocky form instantly pinning the teenager’s puny form to the ground. The one-eyed warrior from the kitchen turned from his flight up the mountain side and rushed back to assist the trapped boy. Athene was impressed with his fearless valour. The crazed horse attacked the one-eyed warrior but he stood his ground bringing his large axe to bear. The rider’s mount reared and tried to knock the grizzled warrior to the ground, but with a swiftness that belied his years, he sidestepped the flailing hooves, sweeping the shaft of the axe up into the beast’s mouth, turning the beast’s head away from the blow that was about to follow. Loosening his grip he reversed the axe and expertly bought the head of the weapon down onto the beast’s neck. Henrick, Corvus and Athene continued their flight up the hill and into the night.
‘You carry on, I’ll get Tull and catch you up.’ shouted old One-eye as the mob advanced closer up the hillside. It would not be long before they reached the now-dismounted rider pinning Tull. The sounds of battle ensued behind them as they continued up the slippery track.
Athene never saw Tull or the grizzled old half blind warrior again.
Saznack looked at Bellack in disbelief. ‘What are you playing at man, they got away.’
‘It must have been the distance – too much delay in the control of my new pets,’ Bellack responded.
Saznack nodded his agreement. ‘Your creations did seem a little sluggish in getting moving.’
‘Oh yes …. and have your slaves syringe your ears out Saznack,’ barked Bellack, his emphasis lingering on the ‘nack’ a little longer than usual in an attempt to further belittle the large man.
‘Next time I say capture, I mean capture everyone. I know it is fun controlling your first red Rock-Beast, but perhaps I should have started you off with the control of something a bit easier, like the yellow ones – but last time I checked in the dictionary, capturing someone had a different meaning to snapping necks and killing them.’
‘Well that grizzled old axe man did actually kill my first ever Rock-Beast,’ replied Saznack.
‘How could you fail to capture him? He was decrepit and half blind. I would only have needed to break wind in his direction and he would have toppled over,’ protested Bellack.
‘Then he killed the five mindless minions and also the second Rock-Beast. I swear he was possessed himself. I just meant to knock him out with that last blow. It’s not my fault if his neck was a tad fragile. Anyhow, I got the boy cook alive didn’t I?’ Saznack retorted sharply, stung by the extra sarcasm in Bellack’s tone.
Bellack spoke again a little more gently this time. ‘Well I think that we should have plenty more time to work on your finesse. But you know what old friend? After the fun that we have had today I am glad that our overpriced offer for the Moomran crystal was turned down by the Tanarian council. Now we will do things the old way – no talk just action. Right, let’s get out of here I’m tired and need to regain my strength for the coming fight. Leave the acolytes to bring home our flock; we must not forget to honour our allies agreement,’ said Bellack with an air of resentment in his voice.
Saznack agreed, ‘Good plan. I can’t be bothered to waste any more of our valuable time on these few. Besides we will need to recast this spell again tomorrow, so we should get some sleep.’ He stopped as he was about to leave.
‘I may have someone in the area on another mission that could continue our hunt should our play things fail. I have used him before, he is very reliable. He is expensive but he gets results. I’ll make the arrangements just in case.’
Bellack commanded the waiting slave to roll up the floor rug that he had previously made him lay to quell Saznack’s bitching about the mud of the caves floor, he paused before leaving.
‘Oh yes, you know I will need to report this incident to the Su-Katii generals and their Council, we may yet need their resources to help us find the source of the escapees’ resistance to my powers, I must discover its source.’
He paused in thought for a second.
‘This perplexes me. In the meantime, arrange transport for our new guest Saznack, get Marcus to pick him up, he’ll enjoy that. I shall probe our captured cook’s mind tonight, after a fine meal – how ironic.’