Chapter Twenty-Five: Dark Magic

"Sir, from where did you all witness these events?" Numair the mage asked, clasping Lord Raoul's arm in silent greeting.

"From the trees not far off my Lord; we had left our horses by a less-murky swamp to drink and were travelling on foot to get closer to the enemy camp. When it seemed the caravan was not about to move on, we all took to the trees for safety."

"You were all very lucky then to remain undetected. I wonder though, did any of you see the slavers use any words you could not understand or speak any form of incantation with this ritual?"

The men who had returned from the watch conferred for a moment. At last, the leader turned back to his commander shaking his head.

"Then I suggest," Raoul spoke with a sigh, turning slowly to address every man witnessing. "I suggest we presume that the men behind these kidnappings, these slavers under this unknown Commander, are amassing an unresisting, unthinking army to some unknown ends. At least now men, we know the force we are drawing up against."

Numair nodded his head in resignation, sighing.

"Although it is dark magic I have no idea how this Commander is managing to turn captives from fighting, resisting Own's men into passive shells of themselves. My study of the field of evil has been brief at best; even the most powerful of mages can be corrupted by the idea of the dark arts. I never wanted to tempt myself; I don't flatter myself by believing my will power to be that strong..."

"Do you have any clue about what we are fighting Mage Salmalin?" Sir Wyldon asked from where he stood on the rim of the clearing which surrounded Lord Raoul, the mage and the watch.

"My guess is the silver essence is some kind of strange Immortal summoned by this Commander from the Immortal Realms, something that has never ventured here before. I've heard tales of creatures that held no true form of its own and yet could copy any life essence of another which it touched." The mage replied. "They would be the colourless grey blobs of matter your men have recorded, my Lord."

"What else do the tales say?"

Raoul was frowning at all that he heard, an expression which was mirrored by most of the men who surrounded him. Lady Kel herself was numb to emotion, involuntarily absorbing everything she heard without thought.

"One of my teachers long ago argued that any creature without a form of its own was borne from a relative of necromancy; creatures made up of so much different bloodlines from other slain races that it simply could no longer possess its own form, as watered down by others as it was. The fact that these creatures are predominantly silver in all accounts makes me believe they are Immortal in some way: after all, all slain Immortals bleed silver blood. If the stories were true and these creatures came into contact with soldiers they could be copied over and over, turning a group of ten or so into hundreds..."

"Which would be excellent for any warlord if these copies could be controlled in some way..." Sir Wyldon finished slowly in a grim tone.

Slowly the pieces of the puzzle were being aligned in a way that made the hairs on the back of every soldier's neck in that clearing, rise.

"Makes me wonder why they needed to take so many prisoners," Numair added idly thinking aloud. "Why not take ten that will not be missed, and simply make thousands of copies?"

At his question, murmurs of discontent and fear rose around the group of men. Soldiers of every kind shifted on their feet in agitation, talking to their friends and workmates to try and understand it themselves.

"How come we saw some of these Immortals dead then mage?" Raoul asked loudly, seemingly in an attempt to bring order to the group.

"That I do not know, perhaps they have a weakness or are as susceptible as the life force they have copied to injury?"

Lord Raoul looked about himself swiftly, seeming to Keladry as if he had noticed the discontent rippling through his troops all of a sudden. He raised both his hands up, palms flat, begging his men for quiet. Immediately, they gave it.

Their Commander asked for little other than their respect and deference so all were eager to oblige.

"The Mage Salmalin has given us much to consider and analyse; I will talk with him further and ask you have patience. When I have learnt all I can I will give your leaders information with which to brief you. Prepare yourselves men soon we will meet with this enemy."

Men began to disperse immediately in every direction.

Kel hung back for a moment and watched; Raoul took the mage into the Council tent and gestured for Sir Wyldon to follow them. Despite their rapport the two older Knights relied upon each other and greatly respected the other's thoughts and ideas. It was good for the realm that both were here on this mission. Kel smiled a little as Durg gave a departing wave in her direction as he led his band of men back towards where it had such a small while ago, been eating dinner. Despite his smile the Lady Knight could see the rigidity in his movements and the stiffness in his back, that the old soldier had also been deeply affected by what he had heard.

Fear however, she thought, was good in this situation. It kept men sharp and alert, if they were on edge from all they heard about their enemy they would be twice as determined to save the realm and their families from it, twice as determined that the despicableness they had witnessed never entered the direct sunlight of reality. She, in particular was eager to keep this Commander and his band of unnatural monsters away from the clearing of normal civilisation.

What she had heard had sickened her.

In her mind's eye the words of such a knowledgeable and realm renowned mage had given birth and nurtured ghastly images. If Immortal creatures could pretend to be other beings then the suspicion and paranoia that would occur if they were to remain on this plane would have a deep and painful effect on the realm. Gods knew she could see the importance and weight their mission now held but she would still be the first to admit that she was scared of facing such a foe. There were so many unknown factors and details that could cause the fight to swing in the favour of their opposition if they were to face them too soon.

Wryly she noted to herself that this mission more than most showed just how much chance, luck and gambling affected the outcomes of her line of work. There were no guarantees or insurances; sometimes people fell in the line of duty.

Just as her mind threatened to swoop to an even darker level within her, to conjure up thoughts of desperation which although she knew were unhelpful and unproductive could not stop, a low voice behind her broke through her train of thought.

"We all were not expecting to hear things were quite that serious, breathe..."

Lady Kel closed her eyes. The voice, as it continued, flew inside her head chasing away the dark thoughts. It replaced them with a feeling of fleeting calm which she did little to fight as fragile as she knew it was.

"We are all afraid but if we remain vigilant and focussed we will win, for Tortall..."

She knew the voice was right. The chill in her bones melted at the words leaving behind stirrings of resilience which had never abandoned her quite so quickly at the sight of a fight.

"Kelhen?"

Upon hearing his endearment for her, Keladry turned around and finally opened her eyes again. Her lungs expanded at the sight and allowed her for the first time in a while, to take a full deep breath.

"Don't despair quite just yet," Francis continued, speaking slowly and soothingly as if calming a flighty horse. "Just because we know some more about what those despicable men have been doing does not mean that the good old-fashioned might and skill of the realm will not beat those dogs back."

"It's like the Immortal Wars all over again," the Lady Knight whispered quietly.

"It's a new enemy yes," Francis replied taking a step towards her slowly. "It's a dark art that has not been practised by anyone in hundreds of years, yes. It's a foe that has not been come across by anyone before let alone the mighty Protector of the Small, but that does not mean it cannot be vanquished just like all the other new beasts which were defeated in the Immortal Wars."

"But how many will fall before we uncover the ways to best them?"

Kel's question caused Francis to pause for a moment. In those seconds he simply looked at her and waited for her panic to subside.

"It's all in the line of duty Kelhen, these men know what they're getting themselves into. We all do."

"I know that," Kel replied sharply. She took a breath and forced her eyes to shutter as a calming mask fell over her features. It felt strange to use it with Francis but she wasn't quite ready for all her fear to be revealed to him. She didn't want him to think she was weak after all. "I'm just thinking aloud that's all."

The lady knight began to turn away, ready for him to stop trying to understand her every thought. Before she could however, Francis noticed the change in her.

"Wait a minute, don't shut me out!"

He tugged on her arm hard, spinning her back around to face him. He examined her expression with a sour look on his face that pulled at her heart strings. Without removing his scowl he took hold of her hand and silently pulled her behind a large, ancient oak nearby. Here, out of earshot and eye sight of anyone loitering he backed her up against the tree trunk and finally let go of her.

"You don't have to hide from me Kelhen. You don't have to pretend to be calm and in control, around me you're allowed to lose it!"

Francis sighed and ran an agitated hand through his hair, searching for the right words to explain to the lady knight that she didn't need her professionalism with him.

"I enjoy seeing you relax," he said slowly, watching her expression carefully. "When I see you stop hiding or worrying around me, it makes me feel like I'm doing something right, something good. I won't every judge you for feeling Kelhen..."

The truth in his words hit her so hard that the features of her face fell into lines of surprise out of their hard expression.

Francis smiled when he read the slight shock and overwhelming happiness in his lady knight's eyes. Before she could speak he took a step towards her and with deliberate, gradual movements leaned towards her, placing his hands on either side of where her head lay against the tree trunk. He transferred his weight onto his hands and inch by inch brought his body flush with hers, trapping her deliciously between the tree and the hardness of his chest.

"Francis..." Kel began hoarsely but was unsure how to finish her sentence. Did she really want him to stop and let her go? Or if she spoke again would she beg him to stay right where he was and step over the invisible line they had placed between themselves in the past couple of days.

"Don't," her knight replied quickly. He smiled lightly taking another step towards the tree so that his feet ended up between hers and he stood up straight. He looked down at her and Kel imagined he could see straight into her soul. "Just give me this moment and then I'll go back to all that craziness."

His head blocked out the dying light from her gaze so that all she could see were the shadows and planes that made up Francis' beautiful face.

His eyes loomed so large in her vision that she thought she could lose herself within them, escape the battlefield through the cool deep waters that lay guarding his soul, until all the madness was over with. Kel brought a hand up to Francis' face and traced the line of his jaw feeling the day old stubble that had sprouted there, making her smile. It made him seem so real to her; more so than the fact that she could feel every line of his body pressed right up against her in a way that felt as wrong as it was for the circumstances. She cupped his face in her hand feeling the warmth of his cheek and the heat that increased within it as a dark bloom rose to the skin there. His pupils were huge and his mouth hung open as he gasped for breath. She wriggled between the tree and his chest trying to raise herself up to see better into his eyes, to see what was making him behave so but she only caused him to groan.

Thinking she had hurt him unknowingly, Keladry froze and looked up into his face.

With another groan Francis moved one of his hands from the rough tree bark that was digging into Kel's back to grip her chin between finger and thumb. He lifted it up, tipping her face upwards like a flower to the sun and kissed her deeply, deeper than he had done in days.

His other hand softly played with the strands of hair that had escaped her band then traced downwards, sweeping her neck and shoulders leaving a smouldering trail of heat in its wake. Instead of behaving, his wicked hand continued onwards tracing the combination of curves and muscle that was Kel's side until it rested and gripped her hip, making her gasp into his mouth.

At the sound Francis moved his face back a fraction of an inch, giving them both room to pant for breath.

"I know you've promised once but tell me again," Francis started in a gasp. "Promise to look after yourself when I'm not there to get your back, because my gut says soon we're going to be at opposite ends of our battle formations. There's nothing I can do about it, as much as I want to, so promise me that you'll fight so hard that afterwards we can see whether this, this heat remains in a less stressful environment..."

Kel laughed lightly at his phrasing and nodded. Francis' thumb ran along the smile of her lips and she laid a quick kiss on the calloused skin there.

"I promise as long as you make some time after this mission to come away with me, and Tobe."

Francis murmured his agreement before kissing her again. There was no need to say anything, the moment was perfect for Kel. She never had felt surer about the way she felt for someone before; with Francis she was certain that even in the calm and peaceful lull that came after battle she would still feel as if a fire raged within her chest every time he so much as looked at her.

The last Lady Kel saw of Sir Francis on that fateful night was his smiling face turned towards her as he looked back over his shoulder. He was returning to his men and just in time she thought. His expression when he had pulled away from her a second time had anticipation rolling about in her stomach in a way that was not appropriate at all. Feeling light-headed, giddy and happy Keladry watched that very special man walk away from her, not knowing that this memory would keep her alive for the next couple of months or that this was the last time she would feel any degree of happiness for a while...

Hi Guys - another shortish one I'm afraid but this is the only way I saw to give Francis and Kel the moment they needed before the craziness begins. Some reviews of the past few chapters would be real helpful guys and dolls just so I know that you're liking the direction this is going in. I mean, I have the next five or so chapters sketched out roughly but the end is still a little blurry (that's right we're getting into the final stages... shocking I know...) I need some help and guidance from my ever faithful readers so please drop us a couple of lines?

Much love and gratitude to you all!

X x x