Chapter 25. Rescuers.

Amelia was extremely worried at this point. She'd already come across several of the soldiers that seemed to be overrunning the palace, but she was still pretty much in the dark about what was going on. The soldiers were more inclined to draw their swords than to explain themselves, and after a good one-two of Visfrank they were even less inclined to explanation.

Her father's room was empty. She knew that that was no reason to panic. There were a lot of explanations for why that could be. He… well, he'd probably heard the ruckus same as her and gone off to investigate. In fact, he was probably looking into her empty room and worrying about her. He was probably fine… there was no reason to worry.

…But still…

She heard footsteps approaching around the corner. She looked at the walls of the hall she was in. Stone. Well then, let's try a fireball, shall we?

She held her hands low, gathering energy between her palms and waiting for the right moment to let go. Several figures in soldier's attire ran from around the corner and she was about to hurl the ball of energy when—

"Princess!" the lead one said, pulling down his helmet so his face was visible. "Thank God you're safe!"

She let the energy between her palms fizzle and dissipate. She looked up at him. "Who are you?" she demanded. "What's going on?"

"We're from Lord Daellon's squad," the leader explained. "My lord sent us to find you to be sure you were safe."

"Mister Stanley sent you?" Amelia asked, squinting at them.

"Yes," the leader said emphatically. "Look… something's going on in Seyruun tonight. We still don't know who's attacking. The ones we've tracked down aren't willing to talk and there are still loads of them crawling around the castle. And it looks like someone's killed all the swordsmen and magicians in their beds!"

"Those blasts I heard…" Amelia said numbly.

The leader nodded gravely. "Lord Daellon has been mobilizing the forces he brought with him to overpower the invading horde. He's set up a barricade in the throne room and I am to escort you there to safety."

"No way!" Amelia said, to the soldier's surprise as she pumped her fist. "An evil army is even now lurking through the halls of the heart of Seyruun! As its princess I cannot allow such villainy to go unchecked!" She brought her fist down in a dramatic pose and it seemed to the soldiers watching in bland horror that she had righteous tears in her eyes. "That is why I, Amelia Wil Tesla Seyruun, must do everything I can to crush their evil ambitious with my own two hands!"

The leader stared at the princess as she remained frozen in her fighting pose. He coughed and said, "I really must insist princess, at least for the time being. Anyway, there's something else. We don't know the details, but we've received word that Lord Daellon had some grave news concerning your father."

"Daddy?" Amelia said in a small voice. Her justice pose crumpled. Then her voice regained its commanding quality: "Take me to Mister Stanley right away!"

Zelgadis stepped over the immobile form of Hartwell. He barely had time to acknowledge his victory to himself as he raced across the grounds toward the blazing inferno that was the Magic Defense Division headquarters. He couldn't understand why no one was putting out the fires. A blast from a conventional bomb couldn't have killed all the sorcerers, and surely they knew some water spells.

When he reached the doorway he didn't hesitate to grip the handle. Any ordinary person would probably have sustained severe burns on their hands, but Zelgadis's skin was made of stronger stuff, as Hartwell had failed to take into account. It would take temperatures that could turn rock into lava to slow Zelgadis down.

But the door didn't budge no matter how hard he pulled. It was locked. There was no padlock on the door so either it was locked from the inside, which wouldn't make much sense for whoever set up this trap because it would give the people inside a good chance of escape, or it was magically locked.

Time was running out so he tried an incantation and pulled at the door once more. It opened, and as the night air rushed in the flames rose to greet him. He pulled his scarf over his mouth and dove in, low and under the smoke, dodging the hungry plumes of flame that crept up on him as he crawled.

He knew he couldn't stay inside the building too long. Not only had it been rendered extremely unstable, but the smoke was getting to him and the flames would soon block all exits. He coughed and coughed as he finally found his way to the sleeping quarters of the sorcerers, but even if he wasn't plagued by smoke inhalation, what he saw would've taken his breath away.

They were all sleeping! Not fitfully, not the comatose sleep of the oxygen deprived, but… peacefully. He could see from where he was standing that several were already dead. They'd been consumed by flames, choked by ash, or crushed by fallen debris. But none of them had moved from their beds.

He moved over to one of the recumbent magicians. This… wasn't right at all. Even if the blast had occurred while they were sleeping, they should've woken up and done something…

Then he got a shiver. Sleeping spells… they were all under sleeping spells. Not blast, nor smoke, nor fire, nor catastrophic collapse would wake them up. And they were already in their beds. That meant that someone… more than one someone judging by the number of people that were asleep, had cast sleeping spells on the group while they were already asleep. Their natural sleep had been replaced with the impenetrable sleep of the enchanted.

Those bastards! It made him itch just to think it. They could have slit the sorcerers' throats in their sleep and in some way that would still have been more honorable. But if one cried out then the others would awaken and then Stanley's men would have a fight on their hands, and they didn't want any of those if they could avoid it. So they'd put out their lights and then gassed them.

He wondered if they'd bothered with sleeping spells in the guardhouse. Probably not. Guards couldn't unlock magical locks or put out fires with water spells. It would've been a waste of effort. So Stanley's men had put the sorcerers in the sleep of death and let the humble guardsmen tear each other apart in the panic-stricken firestorm.

Not everyone in Stanley's crew appeared to have Hartwell's negative attitude toward magic. Sleeping and locking spells weren't difficult, but military men don't usually bother much with white magic beyond the few ones that know healing spells. If Stanley had men that knew a broader base of spells then it was probably safe to say that they had some dangerous tricks up their sleeves too.

He pulled a dozing sorcerer out of his bed, and then another, and then a third that was blowing snot bubbles with his nose. He held one in each arm and slung another on his back.

"Come on," he said to his sleeping passengers, muffled against his scarf. "You're needed. Now more than ever."

Lina meandered her way down to the dungeon, occasionally pausing to burn whoever shouted "Hey you!" after her to a crisp. Technically she'd never been to the dungeons, but she figured she'd hit them if she kept going down.

The bottom of the long and winding staircase led out into a large, open space. The rooms were made of moist rock, there was the occasional drip of water in the background that was fine for all of five minutes and then would drive the listener insane, and there were cells with bars on them. Yep, Lina thought. It's safe to say that this looks pretty dungeony.

"Miss Lina!" a gruff voice exclaimed from a tabletop ahead of her.

"Hey you!" a soldier shouted, turning.

Lina sighed and put her head to her forehead. "You should work a little harder on last words," she said. "Dimil Arwin!" she intoned.

After the ball of pressurized air had done its work of throwing of the panicky guards against the hard and unforgiving dungeon walls, she focused her attention on Phil.

"Geez! Are you okay?" she asked, rushing over to where he lay strapped onto a tabletop with a great many straps. "Did they do anything to you?"

"Not yet," Phil said as jovially as if she'd just joined his tea party. "The one you blew away first said something about a red hot poker, but I'm afraid I may have knocked out a few of them when they tried to tie me up."

Lina looked over at the corner where a few concussed soldiers lay. "And I got the rest of them," she said. "That's what they call teamwork."

"You understand," Phil said, as though wanting to clarify something, "that it was only in defense against them tying me up. I tried to make them see reason, but they refused to listen."

"I'm not surprised," Lina said, beginning to undo the straps that bound him.

She got a better look around the room and blanched. "Phil," she said nervously, "please tell me that Stanley brought those and that they don't belong to you."

"What?" Phil asked, lifting his head.

Lina pointed mutely to the opposite wall and Phil looked over. "Oh, those," Phil said. "No, they're not Stanley's. They belong to the castle. Why?"

"Well, uh," Lina said, brushing her bangs out of her face. "It's just that you really don't seem like the kind of guy to keep a rack and an iron maiden around. I don't even know what some of those things are, but I can guess what they're for!"

"Oh, but they've been unused for at least a century," Phil said, waving his hand dismissively as Lina undid the strap on his arm. "It may not be enlightened," Phil continued, "but long ago every castle had a torture chamber."

"So… why keep this stuff around?" Lina asked weakly. After all, Phil counted himself among the enlightened. "Why even have a dungeon for that matter? That's awfully old-world-tyrant if you ask me."

"Well," Phil said, massaging the life back into his wrist. "They sort of came with the place and it's hard to get rid of… implements like that. I'd worry about how they were being put to use if they were out of my possession. And a dungeon is very hard to convert into a rec room."

"Anyway," Phil added. "We do need a place to quarter our prisoners of war,at such unhappy times that we are forced into a confrontation. They are, I assure you, treated with the best care and consideration."

"Really," Lina said weakly.

"And they are told up front that the torture devices will not be used. In fact," Phil said exuberantly, "we try to turn their terrible nature into something for good! Any prisoner that passes through here will at least come out having learned some exciting facts about historical weaponry."

Lina looked off to the instruments of pain cloistered together against the far wall. She could just see it now… 'Oh no, don't be silly! We wouldn't dream of actually using these on you. They haven't been used for hundreds of years and the blades have gone all dull and quite rusty. But let me tell you, just for the sake of education of course, exactly what they are and what they do to people. …Oh? You'd like to tell me the location of the enemy encampment? Well, that's awfully sporting of you!'

Sometimes she had the feeling that Phil might actually be extremely cunning. It always made her uncomfortable to think it.

"Now," Phil said, getting up after being freed from his bonds. "Where is my Amelia?"

Lina scratched the back of her head. This wasn't going to go over well. "I don't… actually know."

"What?" Phil exclaimed, turning on her. "You've just left my poor daughter Amelia alone to face that killer?"

"Easy," Lina said. "Amelia can take pretty good care of herself, and if I'm right then Stanley's going to at least be polite to her at first. It helps him if he doesn't have to keep her prisoner too. So we've got some time."

"It pains a heart as just as mine to think of my darling daughter Amelia in that villain's clutches," Phil said genuinely. "We must find her, Miss Lina! And immediately!"

"No problem," Lina said. "Stanley's probably already done that for us," she added in a mutter.

"What was that?"

"Nothing! Let's go… check in the throne room."

"What do you mean they haven't reported back yet?" Stanley spat.

"It's just as I said, my Lord," a man in shining armor answered. "The forces sent to assassinate King Eldoran never came back."

"Crap," Lina whispered from her hiding place on the balcony. "I was hoping it'd take them longer to miss those guys."

"Is he alright?" Phil whispered, which was a great effort for someone with such well developed lungs.

"Gourry's guarding him," Lina answered.

Stanley drummed his fingers on the armrest of the throne. "You don't suppose they joined the others in rounding up the rest of the castle residents, do you Drash?"

"I doubt it," Lieutenant Drash answered. "Captain Neph knows better. He would've reported first."

"So…" Stanley said slowly. "There's a rat lurking around… one of Seyruun's guards, perhaps? It could be that we missed one?"

"Possibly," Drash allowed. "But Neph is a good soldier and he had a squad with him. I doubt a rogue Seyruun cadet could manage that. And," he added, his eyes shadowing over, "there's something else."

"Yes?" Stanley asked, sitting up and suddenly alert.

"When my men and I had completed our objective and set off the bomb in the Magical Defense Division we went to rendezvous with Lieutenant Hartwell at the guardhouse. …He's been slain."

"What?" Stanley said numbly. "Hartwell is… dead?" he asked, looking so sad that you could almost feel sorry for the little monarchy-toppling prick.

"Yes, my Lord," Drash answered gravely. "And I doubt the best of Seyruun's soldiers could beat Hartwell even if they banded together. Something is amiss."

Stanley settled into his chair and looked thoughtful. "Drash, you take a troop down to Eldoran's chambers. Finishing that job is the most important thing right now. And assign another troop to comb the grounds. We can't have people wandering around and interfering," he said, withdrawing from his reverie.

Drash's stance changed subtly. "I will make the commands to send both troops out, but with all due respect sir, I will not go with them."

"What?" Stanley said harshly, thrown for a loop.

"The situation has become uncertain," Drash said calmly as though talking to someone much younger than himself. "At this point, we don't know what we're fighting against. It might be something we can beat, and then it might not. Hartwell has already fallen. So I will send the troops out, but my priority now is to make sure that you are safe, my Lord. Whatever roving powers are here, their next target will likely be you."

"Bulls-eye," Lina whispered from her hiding place.

"Can you defeat him, Miss Lina?" Phil asked in as close as he got to a muffled voice.

Lina surveyed the Lieutenant. "He looks like he knows what he's doing," she observed. "And he certainly seems to think he's the number one guy to protect their boss. But…" she squinted. "He's not wearing a sword that I can see…"

"Why wouldn't a soldier have a sword?" even Phil the pacifist had to ask.

"I don't know…" Lina said, eyeing Drash. "That's part of the reason why we're waiting to make our move."

"…And the other part?" Phil asked.

"The giant band of soldiers," Lina said, nodding toward the droves behind Stanley. "Let's wait until our eager little usurper spreads his troops thin looking for their mysterious enemies. Then I'll strike."

Stanley looked as though he'd recovered from the initial shock of insubordination and was about to argue back when another soldier came up to him and saluted.

"My Lord!" the man said. "The princess has been recovered and will be here any moment!"

"About time, too," Stanley muttered. He gave Drash a dark look and said quietly: "Do as you will," before adjusting his features into a more sympathetic expression as his band of soldiers came in escorting Amelia with them.

"Amel—" Phil managed to get out as Lina slammed her palm over his mouth.

"Quiet!" she hissed. "Or you'll give us away!"

"But we have to rescue her!" Phil cried out.

"I told you," Lina whispered harshly. "She'll be fine for the time being. We just have to wait for our moment. For god sakes, were you listening to anything I just said?"

"Amelia!" Stanley said in his most concerned tone as he rushed toward her and took her hands. "Are you unhurt? You have no idea how worried I've been about you!"

Lina made a pfft noise from the balcony.

"I'm fine, Mister Stanley," Amelia answered. "Now please tell me what's been happening here!"

"I'm sure my soldiers must have told you that an army has broken into the castle," Stanley explained. "We still don't know who they're working for, and they're very strong, but my men are fighting back. You'll be safe now that you're here with me. Don't you worry, Amelia."

Amelia didn't appear to be comforted. "Daddy… your soldiers said you had some news about Daddy…"

Stanley's face turned grave. He looked down for a moment as if words failed him and then held her hands tighter and close to his chest.

"Amelia… I don't even know how to tell you this, but… both your father and grandfather were killed in the attack."