V

The Fire Mage

'Once again we do the good emperor's bidding,' Siareth hissed as the gathered Red Wolves sat around a table in the Councillors' chamber. Flames flickered in the wall sockets, casting eerie shadows about the room. 'A bounty has been placed on the head of Balur, the Fire Mage, who has been assisting the Orcs of the Black Mountains in their raids. I want you Magnus, and you Merideon, to accompany me to Black Crag to assassinate him. This mage also has a certain artefact that I…neglected to liberate from him back in the Empire.'

'And what will I be doing during this venture?' Kurt was indignant. 'Am I not important enough to…'

'Of course you are,' Siareth snapped. He rubbed his black goatee thoughtfully. 'I need someone of your worth to run things back here in Aldenheim. See to it that the peasants don't stage a takeover. I don't suppose anyone's seen Siegfried or Malius lately?'

Kurt and Merideon shared a quick glance before looking in opposite directions.

'I haven't seen the pair for two days,' Magnus stated. 'Not that I really care.'

Siareth grunted. 'I don't think I really care either. That elf gives me the feeling I'm going to wake up with a knife in my back. Or rather I won't wake up at all.'

The carriage lurched unsteadily along the mountain path, its wheels creaking. The wind howled around the cliffs, threatening to pluck the company from their safety and hurl them into oblivion. An endless, grey cloudcover drifted above, with no end in sight. The path was barely wide enough, was old and cracked. Siareth was edgy.

He risked a glance out from the carriage window to his right. It was a long way down. A hawk spiralled downwards, floating on its wings, no doubt scanning the cliff for potential prey.

For a brief moment he wondered what would happen if they met their deaths here on the mountainside. Kurt wouldn't be able to control Aldenheim on his own. Who knows what had happened to Von Petrovic and the Druchii. It seemed that they had just buggered off. Come to think of it, Malius had not accompanied them to rescue Karlen, when Siareth had left Merideon and Kurt to train the rabble. He wondered if there had been an incident…the Red Wolves were better off without that scum anyway, Siareth told himself. Good riddance to them. He needed committed men, not wandering vagabonds. He looked across at Magnus. The knight was napping, his hand firmly clasped around the scabbard that sheathed his new blade.

For a week the trio journeyed east across the mountains. Lord Merideon preferred to ride, acting as an outrider and scouting out the wilderness, searching for the best pathway. His map-reading skills were far superior to Siareth's own. The warlock found that he trusted the man. He was young, and eager, and certainly pleasant to have on their side when it came to fighting.

At one stage Merideon halted the carriage with a wave of his hand. He seemed to be looking at something ahead. Swinging his leg over, he dismounted and Siareth could see the glint of steel as his rapier came free.

'Wake up, man,' he nudged Magnus. 'Let's get out; Merideon has found something.'

'What is it, lad?' The knight hailed the youth as they approached. Merideon was kneeling by the roadside. There was a dusty bundle in front of him.

'Someone must have died out here, in this bleakness.' The noble indicated the decaying bones before him. They were shrouded in tattered, velvet rags. A black-fletched arrow protruded from the skeleton. Instinctively, Magnus twisted his head, checking for enemy archers.

'Look at this,' Merideon breathed, drawing a glinting gemstone from the dust. He polished it up on his sleeve. It was a bright amethyst, its facets winking.

An arrow clattered off the carriage body.

'This is not good,' Siareth snarled, looking up at the clifftops. He fancied he saw a moving shape there, clad in black robes. 'Back to the carriage!'

'And that includes you, boy,' Magnus growled, pulling the noble to his feet.

Within minutes a cluster of hooded figures had materialized above the left cliffs. A hail of arrows descended, striking the carriage. Some of the arrows plunged into the woodwork; others bounced off and fell harmlessly to the ground.

'Ambush!' Magnus roared. He shoved Merideon in after Siareth and seized up his shield. Fixing it in a position to protect the coachman, he yelled at the man. 'Get this wagon moving!'

More arrows fell like rain around the carriage as it groaned into motion. Huddling inside, Siareth began chanting the words to a spell, protecting the vulnerable windows from the fusillade outside. Luckily no more arrows were accurate enough to punch through the walls and soon they picked up speed, leaving the ambushers behind.

That night they kept moving. The coachman was nodding off, but Siareth didn't care. As long as the horse didn't lead them off the blasted cliff, it was fine. They had to keep moving. Hopefully the goblins, or whatever they were, weren't chasing them. If they were they'd be in a lot of trouble.

'How long till we reach Black Crag?' Merideon's eyelids were drooping.

'Get some rest, boy. You'll need your strength in the morning.'

Siareth was already asleep.

As the first few rays of sunlight fingered their way over the eastern horizon, the carriage rolled onto a plateau in front of a gigantic doorway. Siareth thumped his fist on the roof.

'Stop the carriage here, somewhere safe and away from the edge.'

'Right you are, gov'nor,' the coachman replied.

Siareth woke Magnus and the two men climbed down from the carriage.

'Ready to go, old man?' Lord Merideon grinned cheekily as he bounded down the steps.

'To whom are you referring?' Siareth growled. Magnus stepped forwards threateningly and Merideon backed off, sneering.

'Both of you, of course.'

'Young fool,' Magnus scoffed, before turning towards the giant gateway.

The doors to Karak Drazh were ajar. They stood tall and mighty, massive stone blocks hundreds of feet high. Siareth could see a line of faint, worn runes around the edges of the doorway. The wind had eroded them though, and he couldn't quite make them out for what they said. The blackness beyond yawned.

'These Orc patrols are getting tiresome,' Lord Merideon sighed as the trio of renegades tramped down the dusty corridor, three hours later. Their blades were slick with purplish-red blood, and even Siareth had been forced to fight in combat.

'What do you expect,' Magnus chuckled, 'this is Black Crag, Orc lair and former stronghold of Karak Drazh.'

'Your learning astounds me,' Merideon said sarcastically, swishing his rapier.

'Silence!' Siareth hissed. 'Look there…'

The room was bare and unadorned. Cold flagstones lined the floor and a small, golden statuette stood in a wall alcove. It was forged from solid gold, and resembled a ferocious, orcish deity. A moment passed as they each gazed in silent admiration. Magnus glanced around the empty room. Seeing no immediate danger, he strode forth and placed his gauntlet around the idol.

'Wait,' the warlock breathed. 'It could be trapped!'

Cautiously, Magnus removed the statuette and waited for the coming rumble of stone. It didn't come. Grinning with pride, the knight weighed the solid gold prize in one hand and quickly stowed it in his pack.

'That was easy.'

Instantly a beam of bright green energy shot down from the ceiling. Before any of them could move, the beam traced a path across the floor towards Magnus. Then it vanished with a wisp of smoke. Siareth glanced up at the roof. A huge red and green statue had been carved there, studded with many gemstones.

'The evil eye,' he said, 'worshipped by orcs. We should tread carefully.'

The Ogres' den guarded the entrance to Balur's study.

'Die, foul beast!' Magnus roared, raising his Blade of Leaping Gold and hacking through sinew, flesh and bone. The ogre bellowed in pain and retaliated, throwing Magnus across the room. But the rogue knight scrambled to his feet and charged back into the fray. The noble was criss-crossing another ogre's face with lines of blood, even as it brought its huge cleaver crashing down. Merideon danced aside and the flagstones he had been standing on a moment before shattered with inhuman power. While the beast tugged its weapon free, the rapier embedded itself in the ogre's enormous backside, unleashing a howl of agony. Merideon then jumped nimbly up onto the creature's back. Twirling his blade expertly, he thrust it downwards through the beast's tiny brain.

Siareth's magic flickered, small darts of energy stinging the first ogre's eyes. It let go of its club, and, taking advantage of its distraction, Magnus ran it through with his sword. The blade stuck fast in the creature's heart, and he was wrenched up into the air as the corpse pitched backwards on flailing limbs.

'Ah, I knew that weakling of an emperor would send someone to assassinate me,' Balur sneered.

'We're not servants of the emperor, old comrade,' Siareth spat. 'Now, hand over the Wand of Recall.'

Balur shook his head. 'Never, especially not to a mere Hedge Wizard. Now, Siareth, feel the fiery heat of Balur the Fire Mage!'

As bright flashes of magic burst back and forth, Magnus and Merideon battled against the orc guards.

A huge, bestial warrior; clad in a combination of leather and chainmail, launched itself at Magnus. Its torso was one big block of solid muscle, and in its claws it gripped a bloody cleaver. Red eyes squinted at what it perceived as its tiny prey.

'Waaagh! Die, humies!'

The cleaver chopped down at the knight. The Blade of Leaping Gold swept up to defend him, and a look of surprise spread across the orc's brutish face. It lasted only seconds before a second warcry burst from thick lips and the choppa cut through the air. This time Magnus rolled aside, and the blade, as big as a human's torso, smashed into the cobbles. In the split second it took for the orc to free its weapon, Magnus slashed at the creature's face and took off its head with the return blow. The huge beast toppled forwards, its gangly arms flaying out.

Lord Meridian jumped back out of the arc of another choppa. This orc was slightly smaller, but no less terrifying. On its head it wore a great horned helmet, and its heavily muscled body was protected by leather scale mail. The noble dashed forwards, sticking his rapier through the orc's cheek guard before sprinting aside. The scrap of armour came away and blood rushed wetly onto the floor. Another blow flew towards the noble's head. This time he parried, and his riposte ripped into the foe's shoulder.

'Need a hand?' Magnus was leaning on his sword, breathing heavily. Distracted, the orc turned and that allowed Merideon to stab his rapier up through the back of the beast's neck and penetrate its skull.

'Thanks for nothing, knight,' he spat as the orc fell, lifeless. 'I could've taken it down without your diversion.'

'My apologies, lad,' Magnus replied. 'Next time I'll remember to not interfere.'

'You do that. I can handle things myself.'

Spells were blistering the air between the two spellcasters. Sweat beaded on Siareth's brow. He was hard-pressed to dispel the rogue wizard's magic and his own spells were next to fruitless. The flames of Balur curled about the warlock, searing his robes. Magnus glanced at Merideon.

'You know what you have to do, friend. Much longer and the warlock will die.'

'Indeed,' the noble said, drawing his pistol. He took a single pistol ball from his shot and smothered it in Chaos Bane: a holy ointment created to destroy the minions of evil. He loaded it into the weapon, and taking careful aim, he fired.

The ball smashed through Balur's concentration. It hurtled towards his head and punched a tunnel straight through his decaying skull. For a moment his body stood there still, arms raised. A fiery comet was plunging down towards the Red Wolves but it quickly disintegrated into orange dust as the body collapsed upon the flagstones. 'Damn you Siareth…' The Fire Mage's voice died upon the winds of magic.

'I take it you and he had some history,' Merideon said slowly.

'He and I were once…friends,' the warlock confessed. 'Before he joined the Bright Order.' He strode over to the trunk and took out the Wand of Recall. It was a short, metal staff, curled around with stylised ivy. 'Magnus, help me gather some of these books. I shall destroy the rest, so that they do not fall into the hands of others.'

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