The Fenimeldiyaan: Rogue Time - Chapter 7

Iereth started to yell wait, but it was too late. They appeared in the castle, and he stumbled forward in a daze. Translocating. His eyes were wide as he looked about the vacant hall. The spell was so... amazing!

"You must tell me how to do that," Iereth said.

"Another time," Dorrie said, her eyes alert and hands at the ready to cast another spell. She no longer seemed like the helpless old woman who had came to his doorstep looking for a place to stay.

The two hurried down the hallway with Iereth following Dorrie. "You sure you know where she is?" Iereth asked, wondering where they were.

"Aye, I can sense her. She be close," Dorrie said. She looked back at him curiously. "Prepare yerself for anything, healer."

"I am not just a healer," Iereth said with a smirk. He grabbed the hilt of his sword, which he never parted from, and unsheathed the blade. Not a moment too soon, for a group of soldiers appeared down the hall and pointed towards them.

Two raised their bows and knocked their arrows. Iereth raised his sword. Unlike his magic, he seldom made a mistake with the blade.

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Lias was ecstatic. A dragon! A man that was a dragon! When was the last time he saw such a fine being! He had so many questions to ask, but now was not the time. He could smell the reek of the townsfolk and their soldiers close in by large numbers. Possibly a hunting party. Did they know their trap had caught its prey, or were they intent upon something else?

Either way, Lias decided he could not leave the dragon alone. The moment they left the cave, he'd join them. He morphed and shrank into a small snake and waited beneath the bush's shadows.

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"Me? I am Benjamin Stone, a grave keeper," Ben said proudly. He held out a hand and took Will's to shake it. "And if it's food you want, I don't have it..."

Ben froze, feeling the pranks of hunger ebb at his stomach. Oh he really wanted something to eat. When was the last time he had a meal other than a feeble amount of stale bread from some poor corpse's pocket? Ben gulped and ignored the feeling of hunger and smiled.

"But, I can find your friend. If you give me food, that is!"

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Elspeth was speechless. Andreas had just split himself into two; now there was twice as much of the irritating fellow. But at least one of the men had left them, flying off to find some girl named River. Elspeth didn't really care too much about what happened to either of them, to be honest. And Elspeth was always honest; why lie when you've got nothing to hide and no conscience to tell you when you shouldn't say something? Elspeth prided herself on her stalwart reasoning. 

But now this Andreas fellow - the original, not the copy - was asking Silvereye if she wanted to wait for Ramsey's return, or to keep searching. Well, Elspeth knew what she was going to do. She was going to plunk herself down right here and wait for her husband, no matter how long it took. The others could do what they wanted; Elspeth could take care of herself just fine. 

"So," she asked, turning to the silver-eyed young woman, "what's yer choice, girl? Cat got yer tongue?"

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The sound of footfalls crashing through the undergrowth filled Ramsey's ears. Seriously? Didn't the guards ever learn how to be quiet? The clunking of their armor and their incessant chatter could be heard in the farthest corner of Hindustan, for Pete's sake. 

"Listen, Rachel. We'll get out o' here," Ramsey said softly. "I'll turn back into a dragon - it'll be tight in this pit, but I'll stand up on me hind legs. All ye have to do is climb onto me back."

Rachel nodded. She eyed the top of the pit, hoping that the old man's plan would work. "Wait. What about the snake-man? He...he was trying to help me." 

"He's..." Ramsey faltered. He'd thought the snake-man had abandoned them, running off to save himself. But he could still sense the man's presence. He was back in his snake form, and he was still nearby. "Well, I suppose he hasn't run off after all."

The soldiers were rapidly approaching, and Rachel knew they had to make a decision fast. "Alright. Let's do it. But promise me we'll come back for him. I don't want his blood on my hands."

"Neither do I," Ramsey grimaced, switching to his dragon form. 

The elderly man kneeled down so Rachel could climb aboard, and pushed off from the ground. Before long, they were weaving through the trees - flying would be too risky, but Ramsey could keep up a fairly good pace on foot. He kept the mental picture of the pit's location in his mind. He didn't really want to come back for the snake-man, but since Rachel insisted upon it, he would do so.

"The sad - but very fortunate - thing isss," Ramsey mused as he trotted through the woods, "those halfwit guards probably don't know how to track us, despite how much of a trail I'm leaving. We'll be back before sssundown fer that sssnake."

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Rachel lay low to Ramsey's back, the passing branches of the trees too fond of tangling in her curls. She heard his muttered criticisms of the guards, but she remembered all too clearly that not all of them had been stupid. In fact, tears sprang to her eyes as she recalled that day--her own run through the forest, trying to escape them. A tear threatened to escape and she quickly dashed it away. Now was certainly not the time to start crying.

She was so distracted, she almost missed the strange feeling that hit her. "Ramsey, stop!" she cried just a moment too late. He skidded to a halt, accidentally dislodging her from his back. She hit the ground behind him just before the Hindustanis who had been hiding in the trees jumped out, throwing some sort of a net over Ramsey. 

The dragon snarled and bit at the net, but he couldn't break through it--it must have been enchanted. They tightened the ropes over him before noticing Rachel, getting to her feet. "Look!" one of them said. "It's an Albionite lady. The Rajah will reward us for that pretty blonde head. He's partial to beautiful women, even Albionites."

That was the last straw for Rachel. The same words had been spoken last time, and she wasn't willing for Ramsey to get into the same position that--that Ewan had been in. She stood up straight and closed her eyes. This is going to be painful.

There were only ten Hindustanis. It would be a struggle, but she could do it. As the ten men circled around her warily, she touched into her grief, her anger, and her fear to use her magic. Only Ramsey, with the eyes of a dragon, saw the dark tendrils move off her skin. They pierced each of the men's heads, and for a moment all of them stood straight up, eyes glazing over. Then the ten Hindustanis toppled over and started snoring.

Rachel turned to Ramsey. "I'm--I'm sorry," she whispered. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed.

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Gerald looked about him. There was nothing but silence in the castle, which was odd. There was also no sign of the thousands of guards or the sorcery wards. It seemed that the girl Jaek had lied to him. No surprise there--beautiful women were always lying. Except for Elsa, of course.

He found the stairs that would probably--hopefully--lead him up to the alcoves where the Rajah--whoever he was--would be keeping Andreas and Morgan. Drawing his broadsword, he limped slowly up the stairs, breathing deeply to calm his nerves. This would be the real challenge. He could only hope that Andreas or Morgan was up to the attempt of translocating them out of here. 

Carefully, Gerald eased the door open at the top of the stairs. He moved into the room, pausing for only a moment to rub his lame leg.

He quickly dodged to the side to avoid a sword swung at his head. "Blimey!" he complained when he saw at least ten Hindustani soldiers. Well, here were the guards Jaek had warned him about.

They all converged on him at the same time, but this was the style of fighting that Gerald excelled the most at. His massive broadsword gave him reach and room to move.

As he beat off the Hindustanis, Gerald became aware of a chanting sound from behind him. Before he could fully comprehend what that meant, chains sprang through his enemy's ranks and wrapped around him. He attempted to cut through them with his sword, but he missed and ended up dropping it accidentally. He cursed loudly as the Hindustanis grabbed him and started beating him. He heard one of them mention the Rajah.

They ended up gagging him to stop his endless flow of insults and curses. Then they dragged him from the room to bring him to the Rajah.

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Morgan crept through the castle invisibly. It was considerably more grand than he was used to, and looked foolish to him. In spite of the differences between the Hindustani castle and his home country of Vordelle's castle, the throne room was still located in the same place. And there was the Rajah--it could only be him in the throne. Holding his rapier, Morgan slid up behind the Rajah and poised the sword to plunge into his back. This is for you, Andreas, he thought, and prepared to stab.

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King Randolph Celden of Albion looked at his latest prisoner in distaste. His men had brought her forward, bound hand and foot, and told him of her great power. She certainly didn't look like much. She was only a child, and an unattractive one at that. She had a plain face that housed too-big brown eyes and a tiny nose, and her brown hair didn't look like it had ever known a brush in its life. The girl was also skinny--had it not been for the sack of a dress she wore and her brown curls, Randolph wouldn't even have known she was a girl.

She sniffed, obviously trying to stop herself from crying--a sure sign of weakness. Randolph wrinkled his nose. "What is your name?" he demanded, his voice ringing through the room.

The girl's eyes--already too large for her head--widened considerably. She made no answer. Randolph rose from his throne. "You will speak when your king addresses you," he snarled.

She made strange gestures with her hands, like she was writing something. Randolph turned to his guards. "Thirty lashes for sheer stubbornness. Than put her in the Tower."

She had only received ten lashes--she didn't cry out when the whip hit her, surprisingly--when one of his men ran in. "Sire! Intruders!" he said.

"Take care of them," Randolph snarled. He glared at the girl. "Get her out of my sight. They've come for her, I'd bet. Probably her family. Put her in the Tower and take care of them." Going up to the plain girl, he grabbed her nose and threw the potion he used on those going into the Tower down her throat before allowing his men to take her away.

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River was smart enough to realize that the king had drugged her with that potion before locking her in the tiny, windowless tower room. She pounded on the door, hoping someone would hear her, but there was nothing. 

She leaned her head on the wall as a memory threatened to overwhelm her. Clearly she saw it in her mind. She was playing in a room with a boy who was clearly her older brother. He wanted the doll she had. Her voice rang in her mind--it had been so long since she had heard it. River didn't want to give him the doll; it was her favourite. He snatched it from her hands--he wasn't cruel, it was just an uncharacteristic moment of wanting to annoy her.

River yelled for her mother. The boy, Godric, fell backwards, slumping down to the floor. Her mother came in the room, saw Godric on the floor and ran to him. Then she started screaming at River, calling her a killer and a murderer. River started crying, begging for Godric to wake up. Her mother told her that he would never wake up, that she had killed him. River screamed, shattering the windows of their home and destroying her voice.

She would never speak again.

River collapsed against the side of the room, heaving with silent sobs. The memory played in her head, over and over, making her weep.

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Will considered Ben thoughtfully. There was only one way to get food, he knew. He would have to steal enough for the both of them--though he was wondering what sort of person would agree to be someone's friend just for food. Then he shrugged. He'd become Iereth's friend for food. That really wasn't so unusual.

Will made up his mind. "Listen, you stay here, and I'll get some food," he decided, hauling himself to his feet. "Give me five minutes and we'll feast like kings." He paused to grin at Ben. "Then we can figure out what to do next." Before Ben could say anything, Will had taken off towards the center of the town--nobody lived near the graveyard. 

There would be plenty of houses to pilfer food from there.

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Elaine squirmed at Elspeth's harsh words. She didn't want to have to decide. Then she hit on the answer. "Andreas, maybe you should go looking for them," she said. He went to speak but she spoke over him. "No, listen, please. I'll only slow you down. And you can pass for a Hindustani, I can't. Even with your spell, it wore off in a short time. Anyway, you go and look for Gerald and Morgan, and I'll stay here with Elspeth. If Ramsey comes back with Gerald and Morgan, we'll go to the nearest village--you can trace our minds, right? You'll know if we go to the village that Ramsey found them. But if he comes back without them--or doesn't come back at all--we'll meet you in the Hindustani capitol."

Andreas tugged on his moustache as he thought. Elaine laid a hand on his shoulder. "She saved my life," she whispered, so only he could hear her. "I can't just abandon her."

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Gerald’s first thought on seeing the Rajah was that the man did indeed resemble Andreas — a much taller version of him wearing some sort of tacky theatrical costume. However, that was where the resemblance ended. The expression on the Rajah’s face was one of lofty contempt. “So you thought you could assassinate me, eh, Albionite infidel? Many have tried, but this is the thirty-sixth year of my reign, so you may assume that none have succeeded thus far. Myself, my seven daughters and five sons all know the ways of assassins. No doubt you think of us as pampered fools who spend their days feasting and seeking pleasure. Even now, ten legions of my finest warriors are preparing to invade your savage realm. Albion will pay in blood for slaughtering my people!”

Gerald tried to speak around the gag, but only ended up making incoherent mumbling and slurring noises.

An adviser approached the Rajah and whispered something in their native language. The Rajah’s mouth curled into a cruel smile and he got up from his ornate green crystal throne. “I’ve just been informed that you did not enter the palace alone. You brought a powerful dark sorcerer along with you in case your sword was not sufficient to slay me. My guards are searching the palace as I speak and they will find your associate. If you wish a merciful death for him, you’ll tell us where he is hiding. If not, then I will let my Grand Inquisitors loose upon you. Every secret in Albion will be known to me when they have finished with you. And you will be begging for death”. He signalled to the guards. “Take him to the Inquisition Chamber now!”

The guards dragged Gerald away.

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Morgan held his breath as he wielded the rapier, burying the blade deep into the Rajah’s back. He had expected to see a fountain of blood splurting from the wound, but there was nothing. Instead he heard girlish giggles and the figure on the throne changed into the smirking form of Jaek. “I thought I’d give you a little trial run first” she told him, standing up, cancelling his invisibility spell and stroking his blade with the finesse of a lover’s touch. “Nicely done. By the way, we need to hurry. Tis almost dawn and the execution will take place soon. You may end up having to kill some of the Rajah’s guards and Inquisitors before you can get to the man himself. Shall we go, dearest Morgie?”

She held out her hand, enjoying Morgan’s obvious discomfort. Seeing no other alternative, Morgan grabbed her hand and allowed her to translocate him away.

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“Guards!” Dorrie hissed, grabbing hold of Iereth’s arm. “Ye any good at energy strikes?”

The confused look on the healer’s face told her everything she needed to know. Concentrating hard, she drew on some of his power to reinforce hers and launched a series of energy strikes at the oncoming soldiers. The first two went down instantly, but the others backed off, keeping out of the range of her fire. A moment later, arrows whizzed through the air.

Iereth used his sword to deflect some of the arrows, while Dorrie conjured a shield around them. Once the shield was in place, the arrows simply bounced off it, landing uselessly on the stone floor.

It was difficult for Dorrie to maintain the shield and fire energy blasts at the soldiers but she did her best, tapping into Iereth’s powers. The healer did not appear to notice. He merely stood beside her, his sword held out in front of him, ready to charge if the shield should fail.

The shield faltered for a brief moment. “The Carpathian!” Dorrie growled. “He be here, in this castle! I’ll try to contact him. He’ll want to help River, whatever his feelings might be towards us”.

“Don’t worry about him” Iereth said. “Let’s just concentrate on staying alive and getting out of here. It’s clear that we’re outnumbered”.

“Nonsense!” Dorrie admonished, patting his arm and giving a toothy grin. “We can handle a few dumb soldiers. They be men after all, without any powers and not gifted with much in the way of intelligence. Just stupid men following orders which they probably don’t even understand”.

She launched another barrage at the soldiers while sending a telepathic transmission to the Carpathian.

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Andreas glided silently into the castle via one of the tiny arrow-slit windows. He banished his cloak and invoked an invisibility spell before entering the chamber. It appeared to be a guest bedchamber, currently unoccupied. He crept silently on bare feet towards the door, using his enhanced senses to scan the corridor before venturing outside.

He picked up River’s mind signature almost immediately, along with those of the King and many soldiers. Unexpectedly, he recognised another mind signature. It was the sorceress, Dorota Cadogan, here in the castle. It could not be coincidence.

Her words forced themselves into his mind like a full force gale, the telepathic equivalent of shouting. “Carpathian, we seek yer help. Meself and me associate here be friends of River Meer. We came to rescue her, but we got pinned down by guards in one of the corridors. Help us! If ye ever cared about young River, please come to our aid!”

Andreas hesitated while he considered his options. The old crone’s words had a ring of truth and urgency about them and he knew better than to ignore the request. However, he could also feel River as if she were standing next to him. She radiated pain and her memories burst through, interrupting his train of thought. “River, listen to me” he transmitted. “Fight the drug. Use me strength to help ye. I be here in the castle. I’ve come to get ye out. Everything will be the right size”. He could not be certain if she had received the transmission, for her thoughts were muddled due to the effects of the drug. He sent out reassuring emanations to the tower where River was imprisoned.

He then turned his attention to Dorrie. “I hear ye, Dorota Cadogan. Lord Andreas Cesario at yer service. I be on me way. Hold off the guards til I get there”.

Reinforcing his invisibility spell, he ran from the vacant bedchamber, using his enhanced senses to track the sorceress. Instead of heading for her position, he came up behind the group of soldiers, invoking an immobilising spell on them. They froze in place, some with bows raised to fire, others trying to dodge the rapid energy strikes which Dorrie continued to launch at them.

Dorrie let out a loud triumphant cackle on seeing the soldiers frozen. “Good job, Carpathian! Knew ye wouldn’t let us down!”

Andreas moved around the group of frozen soldiers and hurried to where Dorrie and Iereth were standing. “If ye be serious about rescuing River Meer, we need to get to the tower prison. I’ve been there afore, tis easy enough to break in. Ye with me?”

“Aye” Dorrie confirmed, cancelling the shield. “Unusual crystal signature ye got there. Ain’t any of the usual crystal types. Never felt the like afore”.

“Tisn’t a crystal bond” Andreas explained, gesturing in the direction of the tower where River was imprisoned. “Tis what be known as obsidian latency. I inherited it from me Ma. She were possessed of a very rare obsidian bond. Anyways, we can discuss that later, once we be safely away from here. Let’s go!”

He set a fast pace. Iereth had no trouble keeping up but Dorrie panted from the exertion, making loud snorting noises while she lumbered along behind them.

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Andreas nodded to Elaine. “Aye, she be a good woman. Tis a pity she don’t trust me, but she be entitled to her opinion. I’ll do what ye ask. I’ll keep ye informed of me progress. Take care now, both of ye”.

He slid his rucksack off his back and searched in it, bringing out a set of nondescript grey robes. He tugged off his suit jacket and his shirt, stuffed them into the rucksack and pulled on the grey robes. He then bowed to the two women before hoisting his rucksack, materialising his cloak and flying off.

Once airborne, he searched for familiar mind signatures. What he detected was confusing to say the least. Ramsey was not too far off, and he was not alone. He could only detect very faint traces of Gerald and Morgan, coming from the direction of the Hindustani Capital. “Ah, Anni were right” he muttered. “Ye always get yerselves in trouble”.

Since Ramsey did not appear to be in any immediate danger, he flew towards the Hindustani Capital, soaring high in the night sky and taking the most direct flight path.

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Elspeth glanced up where she sat on a large, quite uncomfortable stone. Silvereye and the original version of Andreas had been whispering to themselves, presumably about her. Elspeth didn't care in the slightest. If they ended up betraying her, she would just burn them.

As she met Andreas' eyes however, he gave her and Silvereye a curt bow before lifting to the sky and flying towards the Hindustani capital. Elspeth's eyes lit up briefly in surprise, but she only crossed her arms. 

"Where'd he go? Abandonin' us again?"

"What do you mean, again?" Silvereye frowned. Elspeth felt a surge of jealousy at the perfection of her young face, even while upset. "He's not abandoning us at all. He's going to search for Gerald and Morgan."

"An' why aren't ye with him?" the old woman demanded, fluffing out her floral robe to hide her goosebumps. The air was getting cold, and Elspeth thought about switching back to dragon form so she wouldn't have to deal with it.

"I couldn't just leave you here," Silvereye stated, running a hand across her tired face. "You saved my life, after all."

"Fool. I'm a dragon; I'm fine here alone," Elspeth snorted, but the faintest of smiles threatened to cross her wrinkled face. Silvereye did indeed mean something to the dragon, but she wasn't about to mention it out loud. She glanced back at the young woman, not meeting her eye. "Ye would've done the same fer me."

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Ramsey snarled as he struggled to free himself from the net. He took in a deep breath and let out a jet of fire onto the material, but unlike the net Rachel had been trapped in, this one would not budge.

"Hindustani sssorcery," he hissed, turning back towards Rachel. The girl had fallen off his back and he felt a pang of guilt for not checking on her until now.

The dragon gasped as a multitude of dark tendrils spread out from Rachel's body, aiming for each of the guards. Then, within a span of five seconds, they had all collapsed. The guards' snores reached Ramsey's ears and he let out a breath of relief, turning back to the girl.

"How did ye-?"

But before Ramsey could finish his sentence, Rachel whispered a quick apology, falling to the ground just as the soldiers had.

"Rachel! Ye...ye saved me."

Ramsey turned his attention back to the net. If he were to ensure Rachel's and his safety, he would have to destroy it or escape from it somehow. An angry surge of flame began to build inside of him, but he pushed it back down with annoyance. Fire would not get him out of this one.

A sudden flash caught his eye, and Ramsey glanced up to see a grey flash of linen. He recognized the familiar heat signature of a magical being. Andreas. Ramsey let out a roar, but his friend had already passed over, heading for the Hindustani capital. Maybe the others had grown tired of waiting for his return, and Andreas had gone out to search for Gerald and Morgan himself.

Well, Ramsey supposed, there was one way to get out of this mess. He cursed himself for not thinking of it before. The dragon shifted back to human form, wincing as the force of the net came down upon his old bones.

'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Ramsey muttered to himself, reaching for the trousers and tunic that he'd slung across his reptilian neck.

With much effort, the elderly gentleman wriggled towards the edge of the net, wincing as the extremely heavy, rough material scraped against his bare skin. It looked like rope, but it sure wasn't. Ramsey would have to learn if there was any way to destroy such a material; he didn't fancy having to go through this process again.

Once free, Ramsey pulled on his clothing and knelt down beside Rachel. "Wake up, lass. Ye're a strong one. We still need ta go back fer that snake-man, remember? Before we're caught again."

The dragon glanced around at the Hindustani men. They didn't show any sign of moving, but Ramsey didn't want to take any chances. He shifted his tongue to that of a dragon so he could taste the air. If there was water nearby, he could give Rachel a drink when she woke.

"Fer Pete's sake," he hissed at the fallen guards as he stepped past their crumpled forms. "Sleepin' on the job, are we?"