(A/N:) Ah, yes, the horror they would find. This is my favorite part. Not my favorite part of the entire story, just my favorite part of... um... SHUT UP! I did know what I was talking about until you started that Fing laughing! SHUT UP!
Please, try to stop. Just 'cause I can't remember something doesn't mean you have to laugh. That's mean. That's the kind of shit that makes me angry.
Another funny story! Yayyyyyy! Yayyyyyy! Woooo Hoooo! Um... how did that story go again?... oh yeah.
Have you ever heard of Tony Hawk's Underground? Well, you better have, cause if you havn't, then you are quite possible the most retarded person I've ever virtually met. Anyways, I was playing it with my friend Jeff the other day, and I am like the master of that game, I mean I am so fucking good! And he beat my by like a kajillion points. Which is weird, considering that he's never played it before. And that's the kind of shit that makes me mad too.
Keep reading. I mean it. This time I'm fucking serious. You think I'm kidding? I'm not. So keep fucking reading. Before I get pissed.
Have a nice day!
(End of A/N)
8. Duke of Cont'e
Ozorne was very happy. Very content. He was having a great time. Ever since his victory over the Riders, every man at Fort Drell, and most of the solders in the Tusaine army respected him.
Yes, Ozorne thought cruely, his lip curling. They respect me. Perhaps more than even their Duke!
Respect from the men had got him off the hook with King Ain. It had also gotten him a nice set of plate armor with the emblem of Tusaine on it. And a string of opals along a neclace, and opals were the best kind of stone for amplifying ones magic.
The attack had been a complete success in Ozorne's eyes, as well as the mens'. But Ain proved to be smarter than Ozorne thought. He had a rooster of all the men there, and when nearly none of the archers returned, he immediatly summoned Ozorne and screamed his rage.
Ozorne didn't see what the big problem was. He'd obliterated three Rider companies! Three! It was something to be praised, not critisized.
"General," a man he didn't even know said as he walked by, standing at attention.
"Name?" Ozorne asked.
"Timmerin."
"Go on," Ozorne said with a smile. The man continued walking, a slight bounce in his step. Ozorne truely was respected now.
He walked deeper into the fort, greeted by many along the way. Briefly he was reminded of his righful position of Emperor Mage. How the servants and citizens alike carried out his every whim without so much as one complaint. Except that was out of fear. Fear worked much better, or so Ozorne thought. That goatherder's bastard Kaddar will be using the system of respect. He never was much for the fear method.
"Ozorne," Hilam said, nodding to him as he passed.
"Bastard," Ozorne muttered.
"Excuse me, general Ozorne?" Hilam asked.
"Yes, Your Grace?" he asked politely with a false smile.
Hilam gazed at him in disgust for a few seconds, then said loudly.
"I've got my eye on you, Ozorne. I am no fool. You're up to something. I keep telling Ain that your not trustable ---" he let out a string of curses aimed at both Ain and Ozorne. "--- and that you will betray us. But he is stubborn, and takes his orders from Duke Roger..."
"Duke Roger is dead! He has been for years! How can he be taking his orders from Roger?" Ozorne screamed.
Hilam smiled darkly. "He has his ways, Ozorne," he muttered.
Duke Roger looked on with mingled feelings. His portal was the size of his palm. So far all he could see was the Realm, but soon it would be big enough for him to climb through. And he'd get his revenge on Alan --- no, Alanna --- of Trebond.
Yes Ozorne, he thought with malice. You are but a pawn. Those opals around your neck? That is all fake. Those aren't even real opals!. While your Gift pours into me, energizing me and allowing me to open this portal more, you only feel like you're more powerful.
"Your Grace?" a voice interrupted his gazing.
Roger turned to view his companion and one-time squire, Alex Terrigan.
"Yes, Alex?" he asked, locking his gaze back onto the portal.
"Can I please come with you?" Alex pleaded. "Why should you get revenge on Alanna? She killed me too! It's not fair!"
"No, Alex," Roger sighed. "We've been over this one hundred-ninety-three times. If I allow you to come with me through the portal, you will try to gain your revenge before I can. You will be allowed to come through after, and only after, I've killed Alanna."
"But why?" Alex yelled.
"Because I've waited to long for the right person to carry out this plan with!" Roger screamed, losing the little patience he'd built up during the time he'd been dead. "Was it not I that got us away from the Black God? Yes. I can't offord to let this plan go wrong. I promised him the life of Alanna the Lioness, Veralidaine Sarrasri, and Numair Salmal'in in exchange for ours. If I do not kill Alanna, the plan fails, and we are both cast into the realms of Eternal Pain."
"What's so special about Ozorne?" Alex demanded.
"Don't you understand, you fool!" Roger cried. "Ozorne is the only one with enough magical power to open a portal into the Realms of the Dead. We need him."
"What about Numair Salmal'in?" Alex demanded, his eyes glittering. "He has enough Gift, he could do it, he has ---"
"Shut your mouth you ignorant child!" Roger screamed at him. "I would have used Numair if I could have! Do you think I would have wasted all my Gift moving Ozorne from the Realms of the Dead into the mortal realms if I could use Numair!? Are you that unbelievably foolish? Come now, have any of my other plans ever failed?"
"Yes."
The Duke suddenly remembered his plan to become King having been a failure.
"Well, the only plan I've devised that has failed was my plan to become King of Tortall. But this, young Alex, is annexed to that plan. They are the same plan, to put it mildly, set years apart."
Alex said nothing. The Duke didn't look up, or else he would have seen Alex's determined eyes, his hand clutching the handle of his sword so tight that his knuckles were white, and the grim smile on his face. Alex was not going to be cheated out of killing Alanna, not even by Duke Roger.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Daine muttered, then gagged, running into the edge of the forest. Emptying the contents of her stomach, she looked up.
And she saw something that made her throw up again. A man, three arrows in his head, one through his heart, and one in his stomach. In Tortallan colors.
Coming back onto the Great Road, where all the carnage was, Daine leaned unsteadily against Cloud.
"Gods," Onua whispered. "This is... this is murder!"
"No," Alanna said quietly. "This is war."
"But what of honor and the Rules of Chivalry ---" Onua started.
"Honor? Rules of Chivalry?" Alanna laughed a dull, cold laugh. "There is no honor in real war. That's just something the damned nobles tell you, 'you must fight with honor,' or 'keep the rules of Chivalry in your heart.' None of that matters in war. None of it."
Now Onua looked sick. Rapidly her face changed from normal tan to paper white. She ducked around Daine and Cloud, and a few seconds later Daine heard her heaving the fillings in her stomach out onto the ground.
Though she was sickened, Daine forced herself to look around the battlefield. It was as if Tortall hadn't put up a fight at all. Horses were strewn across the road, most gutted. All of them were dead, in any case. Daine couldn't help them.
The men that had ridden the horses and ponies were laying beside their faithful mounts. Many of them bore arrows in their flesh, some had been gutted along with their horses. One's head was cut almost completely off, dangling by a small cord of flesh that was bound to break.
Another pile of dead men still burned, liquid fire coating their bodies and their armor. They had literally been burned to death, the metal singeing their skin away, boreing down to the bone.
It was absolute carnage. Daine had probably killed about thirty men since her arrival here, but she had done it quick and clean. The bodies that were still burning had suffered for long minutes before they were liberated and sent to the Black God.
"The Black God must be busy," Alanna commented drily, as if reading Daine's mind. "I hope he's up to it. Tusaine is better this time. They will pose a threat. He will have many more stops before he can sleep again."
Daine nodded silently. How could anyone do this? The Riders must have been taken completely by surprise. Daine knew what it was like to ride with them, and she had friends in the Riders, just as Alanna and Onua did.
"We'll get them back," she muttered.
"What?" Alanna muttered absentmindedly. "Never mind. Let's go ---" she jerked her thumb to the west, along the road. "--- We're still on patrol."
The seven knights that had been with her at the gate remounted, having finished their search of the area around the road. They rode to the west against the midday sun, leaving a section of road shaded in colors of red behind them.
By the time Daine, Alanna, and Onua had finished their patrol, it was already time for the nightly meal. They had taken painstaking care in combing the areas within one legue of the battlefield, making sure that Ozorne was truely gone from Tortall soil before going on the real patrol.
With a yawn, Daine explained to Numair that she would be skipping the evening meal, and going to bed early. He nodded as she told him, and left when she was done to let her catch up on the rest she'd lost in the last few fights.
It was a tenseful night for the most part. The air was still, and seemed electrically charged. All the sentries were on high alert, their eyes never staying in one spot for once, all of them with arrows already in their bows.
Daine ignored all the tense feelings in the air, and snuggled deeper into the bedroll, trying to sleep.
Sleep came easier than she expected. It was almost as if she weren't part of this world between the time she was trying to get asleep, and the time she'd fallen asleep. Like she was there but she wasn't... its hard to explain.
Daine stood back as she saw a man, clad only in black, with dazzling blue eyes the same color and shape as King Jonathan's. There was a young man next to him, with light brown hair, and hard grey eyes. He boasted the Tortallan shield.
Suddenly a patch in the wall opened up, and he face appeared in the hold.
Daine gasped and stumbled backward. The man with the dazzling blue eyes turned to face her, a strange smile on his face.
"Alex, we have a visitor," he muttered to the young man. He jumped, turned and unsheathed his sword. "Take care of her."
Alex leaped, his sword coming toward her dream-self in a powerful arch that could split a horse in two. She brought her hands up to her face and screamed...
Daine woke up, her bedroll soaked with sweat. The dream... it had been so vivid. How could it be a dream? It seemed more like a vision.
Something was about to happen, she could feel it. Grabbing her bow and quivver filled with arrows from hooks by the door, she flat-out ran to the wall, wanting desperatly to get up there before what was going to happen happened.
"Look!" someone shouted.
Daine glanced his way.
"Look!" the scream came again. "At Fort Drell! What's happening?"
The Fort instantly buzzed to life. Numair burst from his tower-study, clad in only a pair of breeches. Quickly, he ran to the stairs that led to the top of the wall. Daine, seeing the fearful look on her teachers face, followed fastly.
Suddenly the pain from her chest wound flared up again, and she stumbled into another person going up the stairs: King Jonathan.
"Your Majesty!" she cried horrifed, getting up and holding out a hand to help him. "I'm so sorry!"
"It's okay, Daine," Jonathan said flatly. "If you'd sent me falling to my doom ---" he glanced over the side of the stairs, and stared right at a rack of swords. He gulped, his face turning white. "Then maybe I'd be mad. Things are different here in Tortall than in Galla, haven't you caught hold of that over the four years you've been here?"
Daine remembered him saying something along those lines in her first year in Tortall.
"Perhaps," he said as she helped him up. "But old habits die hard, Jon."
Jonathan didn't reply, as another cry of "what's going on?" interrupted. Jonathan scrambled up the stairs, Daine on his heel.
"What's going on?" was a good question. There was a lot of activity at Fort Drell. Most of its fires had been lit, even the ones that were in each corner.
Suddenly, an idea dawned on her. She could shape-shift and find out what was happening!
"Jon," she whispered. "I could go. I could shape-shift and see what's happening."
"Are you certain?" Jon asked, his eyes darting to her chest wound.
Daine thought for a second before answering. "Yes. It hurts somethimes, but it actually feels better after I've shape-shifted."
"Then go. But ---" he said, grabbing her wrist as she stepped onto the raised part of the wall. "--- please be careful? I don't want to have a duel of magic with Daine any time soon."
"Understandable," Daine laughed. "But I'll be careful, Jon. I promise."
"You called me 'Jon'," he replied. "Does that mean we're friends?"
"I suppose it does."
"Goddess bless," he uttered, letting go of her wrist.
Daine leaped off the wall, shape-shifting into an eagle as she went. She wanted the lazer-focusing eyes of an eagle for this task.
She reached Fort Drell in record time, using the heat generated by dead bodies between Fort Tortall and Fort Drell to let her glide across.
What she saw took her breath away. The eastern gate of For Drell was open, and hundreds of men were pouring in. They were already beginning to set up tents, which Daine could see quiet clearly with her awesome eagle eyes.
Hoping to catch some conversation, Daine lowered herself until she was in earshot of a man that had his tent apart from the others, who wore a different uniform; a general.
"I don't want Ozorne to be top general anymore. He'll spoil everything!"
"Hilam, I can't take him away from his position as top general. My orders are very specific when it comes to him," another man answered.
The man named Hilam scowled. "I don't care what 'Duke Roger' told you, Ain. This is serious. Ozorne's next plan is destined to fail!"
"Not with me at his side," the third man replied. "With me there there's absolutely no way we can fail."
"Oh yes, the great general Yami," Hilam sneered. "I'm just as good as you. And watch your mouth when you talk to your Duke!"
"Excuse me, Your Grace," Yami answered, unphased by Hilams words. He turned his attention back to Ain, who Daine knew was the King of Tusaine. "What of Tortalls army?" he demanded. "I need to know numbers, Ain."
"And I am sure that Ozorne has them for you," Ain replied in a mild voice, nodding his crowned head in the direction of a man that lurked in the shadows.
Daine nearly had a heart attack when he stepped into the firelight. It was Ozorne!
"My King," Ozorne said, bowing, his many beads falling forward to shade his face.
"You have news, Ozorne?" Ain asked.
"The spy ---"
Spy! Daine screamed inside her head. Spy! Then realizing that she should be listening tuned in her ears again.
"--- Reports that there are at least ten-thousand men camped along the Great Road, on their way to Fort Tortall as we speak. He also says that the rest of the army will be here by tomorrow evening. The rest consists of at least 500,000 men. These aren't exact numbers, I remind you."
"Anything else?" Ain asked, ignoring Ozornes last bit of speech.
"They --- the Riders --- are furious about their losses. The Queen has ordered that every division of the Riders report for duty at Fort Tortall within the week. The Queen can be very pursuasive. Most of the divisions are already on the ride."
"Our numbers are even enough," Yami said. "We may have slightly less, due to the fact the Riders are coming, but are the Riders really that big of a threat?"
"Not all of them," Ozorne replied. "Mostly divisions in the odd numbers are the good ones. The ones we beat --- one, two, and three --- weren't very good. Division three put up a fight, but one and two were jokes. From what our spy can gather, divisions five, seven, nine, eleven, and eight are the good ones. Any news of Roger?"
"He says the portal is almost big enough for him to get through. He says to give him one week, and he'll be back into the mortal realms," Ain admitted. "But his companion, Alex of Terrigan is giving him trouble. He says he would already have killed him, except he doesn't want to waste his Gift. He needs it for opening the portal."
Having heard enough in her opinion, Daine lifted off again, flying back to Fort Tortall, ignoring the fact that she was making noise.
"Shoot that bird!" she heard a scream behind her...
"So, you would have killed me by now, hmm?" Alex demanded, furious. "Huh? Are you listening, Your Grace?"
"No Alex, it... he's lying!" Roger yelled in reply. "Would I do that to you? Plus, our rooms are annexed together, you'd have heard me!"
Alex seemed to accept this, as he took his hand off of his sword. He still looked wary, but he would get over it eventually. After all, he had a mission. He had to destroy Alanna the Lioness. He had to.
He still remembered what had happened. How he'd been winning, in complete control of the battle. Then out of nowhere, Alanna had kicked him aginst the wall, and then cut him down. Such a dishonorable way to die. Such a dishonorable way to fight.
Later he learned why he hadn't seen the kick. Alanna had apparently been training with a Shang warrior, learning all of the methods.
"What happens if we can't deliever the lives of Alanna, Numair, and Veralidaine?" Alex suddenly asked.
Roger sighed. "We get cast into the realms of Eternal Pain." For some reason he smiled. "But I've already got that worked out. I'm going to place powerful magic on me when I get out, so that the Gods can't even touch me ---"
"What about me!" Alex screamed. "If the Gods can't touch you, they'll be coming to me..."
"I was getting to that, Alex. Twenty years being dead had dulled your manners. We can't have that once we're back in the mortal realms, now can we? We have to listen to King Ain."
"Yes, Your Grace," Alex finally replied, after having something of a staredown with Roger.
"That's better. Now, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, The Gods won't be able to touch you either. Number one, because my plan is unfailable, number two, because I will kill Alanna, and right after that, you will be set free. Then I'll simply put the magic on you as well."
"That all sounds well and good," Alex protested, "But what if something goes amiss, like a crucial battle lost, or a crucial pawn killed..." he droned on.
Roge shook his head. "Nothing can go wrong, my apprentace. You can sleep easy tonight, for tomorrow I go through the portal, and the next day you follow me when I reopen it."
"Can you even reopen it that fast?" Alex inquired as he climbed into his cot, glancing wearily at Roger.
"Do you know who you speak to?" Roger asked.
"Yes, Your Grace," Alex said as he pretended to go to sleep.
Roger smiled, as he leaned against the wall opposite the portal.
Both the Duke of Cont'e and Alex were startled awake several hours early by a loud knocking on their front door.
Without waiting, the door blew in off its hinges, smashing into the wall with the portal on it and disappearing in a swirl of colors.
"I can't let you do this, Roger," the new man, or rather young man, said as he entered. "I can't. I've known about it all along. Don't give me that look. I always was better than you."
"Who are you?" Alex asked sleepily. "You!" he screamed, jumping out of bed. Instantly a band of violet rope wrapped around his arms and his legs, locking him tightly into the position of a ball.
"I'll take no mouth from you, Alex of Terrigan!" Thom, the man, Alanna's brother bellowed. "You are but an ant to me. I could crush you right now ---" he sqeezed his fist, bringing a squeel of pain from Alex. "--- But I take pity on those less fortunate than me. I cannot, will not allow you to do this."
"Playing the hero again, eh Thom?" Roger asked, grinning. "Do you remember how you almost got your sister killed? I do. You couldn't stop me. And then you died, crumbled to pieces, remember? So Alanna came after me, playing the hero like you are now. And she killed me, but she almost got killed by both me and Alex along the way."
"I brought you back from the Realms of Eternal Pain," Thom said snappishly. "I can send you back there, and that's no less than what you deserve. Plotting against the Gods and who knows what else!"
Alex burst free from his wrappings and jumped to his feet. Clad in only his loincloth, he reached for a sword that wasn't there.
"Sit!" Thom commanded. Almost immediatly Alex fell to the ground, moaning in pain as he rubbed his tail bone.
"You know I'll get you back for that," Alex muttered. "I'm going to kill you anyways, as your related to the woman that killed me."
"Silence!" Thom commanded. Alex kept opening his mouth, but no sound came out. "Keep quiet or I'll make the effects perminate," he added with a warning tone in his voice.
"What brings you here then, young Thom?" Roger asked, pretending not to know why he was here.
"If you go through that portal you will upset the balance of power ---" Thom began.
"I've calculated this process over and over in my head. More than one hundred times, Thom! I'm prepared to accept any consiquences that I get."
Thom stood, staring his one-time housemate in the eye. "I can't allow you to do that, Roger."
"That's Duke Roger to you!" Roger screamed, completely loosing it. "Alex, you hold him back. I'm going through that damned portal if it fucking kills me!"
He, Alex, and Thom all jumped for the portal at the same time...
Daine woke up, the sun was already shineing through the drapes of her window. Suprised she hadn't woken with the sun, she sat up, propping on her elbows.
She was completely unprepared for the waves of pain that hit her. Suddenly fighting for breath she fell back to laying flat, screaming in pain.
There are needles everywhere! she thought wildly. I feel like a pin-coushin!
It was true. Her left arm ached in a slow steady pulse, her chest wound was reopened, and it hurt like hell. There was also a light gash across her neck, right along the artery, but that barely stung.
Her screams had been heard by a maid, who rushed into the room.
"Good, your awake," she said putting a cool cloth onto Daine's chest. She pulled back the sheets on the bed, reavealing a naked Daine.
"Daine? I heard you screaming ---" A lanky man clad in black said breathlessly, entering the room. Numair.
"Get out of here!" the maid shrieked, throwing a roll of badages at Numair. "I am treating a patient! And she's naked! Pervert!"
"Woah, wait a second," Numair protested. "I didn't know ---" he glanced helplessly at Daine as the maid started beating him with a book.
To weak to even pull the sheets back up, Daine ignored the fact that she was blushing and naked, and rolled her eyes. Numair laughed, and shielding his face, ran out the door.
"That's better," the maid said. She came back to Daine's side, picking up the cool cloth that she'd placed on Daine's chest and putting it back onto her, flipped over. "Did you know it's going to be midsummers day tomorrow?" the maid added, putting some type of healing salve on Daine's neck wound.
"That's just a little knick," Daine complained.
"That it may be, it can still get infected," the maid replied evenly. She reminded Daine of her mother, Sarra.
Then the army is here, Daine though triumphantly. And that means Tusaine hasn't striked yet. We're safe --- for now.
Then Daine remembered. She had to tell Jonathan!
(A/N:) Hey, its me.
I know that this chapter started exciting and ended slightly not exciting. I'm okay with that. And come to think of it, you'd better be too!
So, keep reading, loyal readers! Yes, keep it up. Don't quit. I don't like quitters.