14h Day of Ready'reat, 565 CY
The Barony of Willip, Furyondy
(About 1 Mile NW of the Brass Dragon Inn)
The landscape had already turned white, but the snow continued to fall.
Nearly a foot of snow lay beneath them, but the sure hooves of seven horses and two pegasi plowed through without difficulty. Elrohir shifted his weight on White Lightning, trying to keep his legs from going numb. He held her reins with one hand, but that was little more than a formality. His faithful steed knew their course as well as he did. As far as the ranger could tell, they were still on the road that led northwest to Gorsend, but there were no tracks visible other than the ones they left behind them. The last landmark they had seen was the old farmhouse, now perhaps half a mile back.
To his left, Aslan sat astride Perlial. The paladin shifted his gaze constantly, scanning for the enemy, but was disinclined to make conversation, even with his own horse.
Elrohir knew the reason. Aslan was quietly furious at Cygnus for having lied to them about destroying the iron flask. The mage had explained the whole story, including the use of the thought bottle. Technically, the tall wizard explained, that meant he hadn't lied to them. He really had no memory of saving the flask.
Oddly, no one else in the party besides he and Aslan seemed to mind this to any great deal. As far as they were concerned, they now had an extra, powerful weapon at their disposal. This fact galled at the ranger even more than Cygnus' actual deception. Yet another example of their failure to be a real team- to be more than the sum of their parts.
Another example of his failed leadership.
Just to hear his own voice, Elrohir addressed the paladin again.
"It might work out to our advantage nonetheless, Aslan. The best case would be that the devil in the flask is a lesser devil of some kind. Strong enough to do great harm and wound, if not kill, our adversaries. And if they're not able to slay it, it may be weakened enough afterwards that we can finish the job."
Aslan shook his head, not looking at Elrohir as he spoke. "Venom was Kar-Vermin's counterpart, Elrohir. That would make him an archmage of the highest order. Someone that powerful would have no use in imprisoning such a weak servant in that flask. It could be put to better use." He paused. "Whatever fiend is in there could well be capable of killing us all."
Now the paladin turned to face his friend. "Using evil to fight evil is evil, Elrohir, no matter what Cygnus, or anybody else, says."
With that, he looked past Elrohir to the ranger's right. Elrohir knew Argo, atop Gylandir, had probably heard that remark. Knowing Bigfellow, Elrohir guessed his fellow ranger was probably making a face at the paladin now, but he didn't turn to confirm that.
Elrohir took a deep breath to try and steady himself, although he quickly wished he hadn't as the freezing air flooded his lungs. Not able to counter Aslan's proclamation, he turned to look behind him again.
Laertes and Zantac were riding light warhorses that they had previously purchased in Willip. The Willip wizard, easily the least experienced horseman among them, had insisted on taking one, saying it would be less likely to throw him in battle. Perlial had assured him that she had spoken to all the horses in their party about this, but Zantac would not be assuaged.
Their combined funds had once again run out. They had managed to purchase heavy horses, reputedly of Zeif stock, for Cygnus, Tojo, and Nesco, with the last of their gold stores. Elrohir had a sudden, distasteful vision of himself leaning over the bodies of Nodyath and his outlaw band, stripping them of all their valuables. Both Wainold and Sir Corvis had used different words to express the same sentiment; that Elrohir and his like were nothing more than corpse robbers, clothing themselves in noble sentiments to hide their disreputable deeds.
Argo's voice jolted Elrohir out of his thoughts.
"I wish Grock were here. He's been aching to sink his teeth into something other than a rabbit for a while. I can tell."
"You don't think I wanted Dudraug along?" Elrohir asked. "Our dogs would get bogged down in snow this deep. Easy targets for arrows."
"I guess," Bigfellow sighed, reaching back to scratch an itch on Gylandir's rump that the pegasus' flicking tail had apparently not been able to quell. The horse flapped its wings in appreciation, and then folded them up again.
"Nesco?" That was Caroline, currently astride Sequester, to the right and slightly behind her husband. "Are you sure that sending from Monsrek said nothing else?"
Lady Cynewine sighed and shook her head. She'd been asked this question before, and Elrohir knew the noble-born ranger wasn't so much exasperated with Lady Bigfellow as she was with the brevity of the magical message she'd received from the priest of Trithereon less than an hour ago.
Dorbin says the attack has begun.
Zantac shook his head. "You can get four times as many words in a sending," he said, repeating the same point that his fellow mage already had. "You'd think Dorbin might have given Monsrek a clue as to how many bandits were attacking, or whether Nodyath or his followers were with them."
"He was probably responding to a first report," Aslan responded. "Possibly from villagers on the outskirts of his fief. He didn't have any specifics, and just assumed we'd want the earliest warning possible. I agree with Dorbin that our enemies are heading towards us right now. Best to meet them in the open, far away from the Brass Dragon."
"But you don't agree him about Talat," Elrohir said, giving his friend a tight smile.
Aslan gave a weary shrug, as if the answer to that was self-evident.
"Which is probably why he had Monsrek send the message to Nesco instead of any of you three," Cygnus spoke up, indicating Aslan, Elrohir and Argo with a sweeping gesture. "I don't think Sir Dorbin is as fond of us as he used to be."
Her expression turned grim, her eyes looking down. "A lot of people aren't."
"Dorbin still wouldn't betray us," Aslan insisted. "or even put us at greater risk. He omitted nothing, I'm sure."
"Today is Thorin's birthday."
Everyone, even Laertes, turned to look at Cygnus, who for a moment seemed unaware of any of them. Then he blinked, seemed to come around, and regarded them all with a rare sheepish smile.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I just remembered that."
"It's okay, Cygnus," Elrohir gave a reassuring smile to the wizard before facing front again. He knew how much power- how much hidden meaning was contained in those few words, and how it wasn't very surprising that Cygnus had remembered this date at all.
Today is Thorin's birthday.
Two years ago on this date, my son was born, aging six years in an instant.
Two years ago on this date, my wife died horribly before my very eyes.
Two years ago on this date, six of us saw a god with our own eyes.
For a while there was only the sound of the horses' feet. Elrohir again looked at the rest of his party. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as he saw Cygnus and Zantac riding along; completely inured to the cold around them thanks to spells they had cast on themselves that allowed them to endure the elements without discomfort. They had offered them to everyone else, but the opinion of the group had been unanimous that their magical contingent needed as much room as possible for battle spells. So the rest of them shivered and endured. At least there was no wind, and it was still daytime, hidden as the sun was behind thick clouds.
Laertes gave a deep sigh. Looking at the half-orc, Elrohir saw that the youth was gripping his reins so hard even his grey knuckles were turning pale. Although Laertes had been as vocal in his support to meet their attackers head-on as any of them, and had insisted on coming along, it now occurred to Elrohir that. For all his toughness, this was probably Laertes' first time in real battle.
Lady Cynewine, riding alongside Laertes, seemed to have the same idea. She leaned over to place a hand on his shoulder.
"You'll be fine, Laertes," she told him. "Remember, we're here to aid you, should you need it. Don't hesitate to call out. We do it all the time." Her face lit up with a momentary smile. "Do the best you can. Try not to control everything that's happening on the battlefield. You can't. None of us can. Battle is never a certain thing."
"Yes," Aslan spoke up, seemingly to Elrohir, as if the words were forced out of him. "Just as Cygnus isn't certain he can recall whatever monster he pulls out of that flask back into it."
Cygnus' lips tightened, but he made no response.
"We're heading into certain doom," Argo announced cheerfully. "Doesn't that count?"
"Argo," Nesco chided him.
Aslan rounded on Bigfellow. "Can't you ever be serious, Argo?"
The big ranger shrugged. "I tried it once. Everybody laughed."
"In any case," Nesco continued. "I think-"
Tojo suddenly held up his hand, stopping his horse. Acting as one, the rest of the party did likewise.
"Enemy is ahead!" the samurai announced.
Elrohir guessed, as did the others, that if they waited, there would be no need for Tojo to explain himself, and he was correct. To their ears soon came the sound of horses- lots of them- and of indistinct shouting, carried to them across the snow.
"How far?" Zantac, closest to Tojo, asked.
The samurai squinted, his hand over his eyes to shield them from the snow.
"Two hundred fifty feet, perhaps three hundred. Cannot be sure, but I think they have stopped."
"Numbers?" Elrohir asked.
Tojo peered for a moment further, and then shook his head. "Too far to be sure. Severar dozen, at reast. Bereive they are dismounting."
"Damn it," Aslan said sharply. "They know we're here."
"But how?" Laertes looked bewildered. "We haven't been making that much-"
"Divination magic," Cygnus interrupted, his expression dour. "It wouldn't be hard."
"Which means either the priest or the wizard- or both- is with them," Zantac added.
"Don't worry. I'll know them if I see them," Caroline said, her voice grim as she readied her longbow.
"Why are they dithmounting if they know we're here?" asked Laertes.
"They've acquired their horses through banditry," Elrohir explained. "Most of them wouldn't be mounts trained for battle."
As if to illustrate the point, Tojo swung off his horse to the ground and readied his composite bow. After a moment, Cygnus and Nesco did the same.
"All right," said Aslan. "Remember our battle plan. We-"
"To the Hells with your battle plan!" Argo called out suddenly. The big ranger suddenly dismounted Gylandir, although Elrohir didn't know why. Their pegasi were no stranger to battle, even if it had been a while.
Aslan no longer made any attempt to hide his anger. "Damn you, Bigfellow! You'll not be endangering us with your impulsive ideas! Even you agreed back at the inn that-"
"Use that thick skull of yours for something other than holding your helm up!" Argo retorted, with more irritation than the big ranger usually displayed, even under stress. "I would have agreed back at the inn to anything you said. Didn't it occur to you that Nodyath might have been- might still be- spying on us, and using that accursed helm of telepathy?"
"I've been scanning," Aslan scoffed. "I would have known."
"You have more faith than I do," Argo shot back. "You still might have missed him, or perhaps they can cover up his aura with magic. Don't know, don't care. The thing to do know is hit them with what they don't expect."
"Meaning what?" Elrohir asked, his arms folded across his chest. He too was chafing at Bigfellow's sudden call for chaos, although in his case he felt- again- that his leadership was being questioned, as opposed to Aslan's eternal annoyance at the big ranger.
"They'll be expecting me and Caroline to come flying in on our pegasi, relying on the snow for concealment, and start strafing them from above, right?"
Elrohir and Aslan both nodded. "And?" the latter added.
Argo smiled.
"So we'll do that- but we'll lead with our third pegasus."
"What third pegasus?" asked Elrohir, completely baffled.
Argo said nothing, but merely smiled at Aslan. Elrohir saw the paladin's features brighten momentarily in comprehension, and then his features sagged in resignation.
Slowly, Aslan dismounted from Perlial.
"Aslan!" his horse cried out, but the paladin placed his gauntleted hand on the mare's neck.
"It is best for all us this way," he said softly. "Argo has all the tact of a troll, but what he says is true. Do not despair. You shall be in the thick of battle- and we will be reunited before it ends."
He looked around. "I need someone to ride Perlial into battle. Someone I can trust with her life."
The paladin caught the eyes of the person he had hoped.
"I would be honored, Aslan." Nesco's voice sounded small and tinny to her ears. "If she will have me."
Perlial turned to look at her.
"I am yours to command, Lady Cynewine," the mare said in her odd accent. "By my master's wishes…"
The horse tossed her mane in what Nesco recognized was Perlial's version of a smile.
"… and by my own."
Smiling, Nesco climbed aboard and readied her composite bow.
Caroline, not looking happy at all at this latest turn of events, gestured to the now rider-less Gylandir.
"Who rides him?"
Argo, now walking ahead of everyone else with Aslan, turned around to eye the possibilities, but it was the paladin who spoke first.
"How about it, Cygnus?" he asked with a tight smile. "At least this time, you'll have a saddle to work with."
The magic-user considered for a moment and then sighed.
"On foot in deep snow, or atop a target with wings," he grumbled. "Who said no choice was a good choice?"
But he mounted Gylandir, who accepted the mage with a confirming nod.
After Cygnus had taken the reins and adjusted himself to the exotic saddle the pegasus wore, he looked around- to find everyone staring at him.
He knew at once.
"Well," he said, swallowing hard, "I guess this is it."
As he said those words, Aslan used his Talent, and an instant later, a third pegasus stood among them.
Argo quickly mounted Aslan- Cygnus couldn't help but smile at the image, but that was quickly cancelled out by a more sobering thought. Aslan had no saddle. It wouldn't require a returning spear such as one Rezshk had possessed to knock Argo out of the sky, and Cygnus knew neither he nor Zantac currently had a feather fall spell memorized.
Nothing for it, the wizard realized. He nudged Gylandir closer to Aslan and Argo, so that they might benefit from the intangible yet real aura of courage that the paladin always seemed to radiate, even when in a polymorphed form. Cygnus knew the terrifying fear that devils- if it was indeed a devil he was about to set loose- often generated.
The mage reached down to a belt pouch that contained only one item, and with some difficulty, extracted the item.
The iron flask seemed warmer in his hand than it had an hour previously, despite being outside in the cold for an hour.
Does it know? Cygnus wondered. Does it know it's about to be freed? Is Aslan right? Am I about to do a terrible thing- something which will cause more woe than weal?
Cygnus stared at the runes, inlaid with silver, which encircled the flask; at the brass plug that sealed it, also engraved with tiny glyphs.
I'll kill it if I have to, Cygnus decided. If our enemies don't destroy it and I can't get it back in the flask, I'll destroy it.
The thought came to him that this was a rather manipulative, if not outright wicked, course of action to take. Using a summoned servant, only to destroy it afterwards.
Could such an act ever be construed as evil, even if the servant in question was an embodiment of evil itself?
Cygnus glanced over at Aslan. He could read no expression in the pegasus' eyes, but it was watching him.
Lord Odin, Father of Victory, Cygnus prayed. Protect us.
He grasped the stopper, twisted it until it began to turn and then pulled it out.
The mage recoiled. A stream of thick, greasy black smoke shot forth from the flask as if its contents had been under pressure. It carried a horrible stench of sulfur. Cygnus almost dropped the flask, but he held on, grateful beyond words for Aslan's presence nearby.
The stream of smoke arced downwards and hit the snow about five feet directly in front of Gylandir.
And then it was there.
Gylandir recoiled, but Cygnus, expecting the reaction, held fast to the reins and the pegasus stood his ground. Dimly, Cygnus could hear the horses that he, Tojo and Nesco had abandoned neigh in terror and gallop off, but that made no impact. Still looking down, the wizard was staring at a sickly, grayish-green, naked body, covered in scales.
And spikes.
Astride Gylandir as he was, Cygnus' head was a good seven feet or more off the ground, but when he looked up, the thing was staring him face-to-face.
Sharp spines covered almost every inch of the creature's body. It's long arms were capped with hands featuring four-fingered, impossibly long claws that flexed constantly.
Its tail, also spine-covered, flicked from side to side like that of an angry cat.
The face was the worst. The top of its head, even the elven-style ears were festooned with spikes. Sunken, dark eyes, with small pupils that seemed to flash from white to red, glared at Cygnus with undisguised hatred.
Cygnus had been to Baator before. He had seen this type of fiend before, although thankfully he had never had to engage it in combat. He didn't know its scholarly name, but he knew one thing for certain.
Aslan had been right. This was no lesser devil.
From somewhere, he heard Zantac's horrified voice, little more than a whisper.
"My god. Hamatula."
"Um, Cygnus?" Argo's voice.
The barbed devil snarled at Cygnus. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
"Not that I'd ever dare tell you your job or anything," Bigfellow's voice continued, now unnaturally nervous, "but isn't there something you should be saying right about now?"
The command phrase!
Cygnus thrust the now empty flask out at the creature- he didn't think that was necessary, but he wasn't going to take any chances- and squeaked out the words in the Infernal tongue.
"Serve the flask master!"
Hoping beyond hope that only the words, and not the pubescent squeak they were being delivered in, were all that mattered, Cygnus pointed behind the creature.
"Those back there are our enemies. Destroy them!"
The hamatula turned its head around to look where Cygnus was indicated, and then turned back to stare at him.
It didn't look like it was going anywhere.
A terrible, ear-shattering roar suddenly issued from the devil's maw.