El-Vador's Travels (22 page)

El-Vador
nudged Eihblin gently with his foot, stirring her from sleep. 'We
have company,' he whispered. 'Pass me a brand slowly and quietly.'

The
creature edged a bit nearer, drawn to the sound of El-Vador's voice.

He
eased himself into a crouch and slipped his fingers over the grip of
his sword. He didn't want to startle the beast into attacking, but it
didn't seem to be going anywhere either. He felt the heat of the
brand as it was slowly passed to him by Eihblin's trembling arm.

Raising
the fire aloft, he made a move toward the thing, seeing if it would
give ground at the sight of this flame. The creature rose up
slightly, its elongated neck fluctuating wildly in colour as the
light from the flames danced over it, yet it remained in place and
seemed unperturbed by the advance.

Without
taking his eyes off the beast lest it strike, El-Vador whispered to
his companions behind him, 'Phaedra, have you any idea what this
creature is?'

'No,'
she replied. 'We never left the fortress and I did not encounter any
beasts on my escape.'

'Eihblin,
keep tending to the fire and don't let it burn low. I shall see what
this thing makes of me as I draw closer.'

The
lizard creature's hissing increased at El-Vador's approach, there was
no mistaking the warning in that sound. It took a small step toward
the Elf, as if testing the resolve of its opponent, the hypnotic
pupils betrayed a myriad of colours that seemed to draw him in if he
stared too long.

He
raised his sword in defiance of the effect, trying to ward it off
with the flaming brand in his outstretched arm. He swept it from side
to side and watched as the eyes followed, entranced by the proximity
of the blaze.

He
banked to the right and the lizard turned to meet him, its haunches
tensed upon the snowy ground. It gathered itself to spring at its
prey and dim the light that blinded it so.

As
it leapt forward he threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the
neck of the beast as it shot out to stab at him with its fangs. He
swung his sword down at it but the arc narrowly missed its scaly
hide, this forced him into readjusting his position and waiting for
the next assault.

It
came at him once more, repeating the same feat and this time
receiving a slash across the flank for its troubles. There was a
strange croaking sound that it gave out then but this was soon
silenced as it regarded its enemy with venomous intent.

Whatever
damage El-Vador's glancing blow had caused, it seemed to effect the
beast's movement. When its head darted closer to sink its teeth deep
into El-Vador's thigh, it was much slower than it had been
previously.

El-Vador's
blade did not err this time, severing the elongated neck in twain.

As
the beast slumped dead, a viscous fluid seeping from the wound and
hardening over it, he watched for a bemused moment as if expecting a
second head to come shooting forth from the neck. For good measure he
shoved the brand down into the stump, causing the body to twitch
several times and then finally still.

He
cleaned his sword upon the snowy ground and sheathed it, then
wordlessly returned to his bedding and fell into an uneasy slumber.

It was a torturous time, lying there in the cold nights pondering
how Sarvacts could have survived the explosion that destroyed
everything that was once his. Had he somehow escaped his fate before
the detonation? Had the phial betrayed me in some way? Ultimately I
blamed myself, I was the one who didn't put an arrow through him to
be sure. It was a mistake I vowed I wasn't going to make twice. Vows
are often broken.

'
W
hat
do you mean, missing?' Sarvacts demanded of the corpse.

The
figure had no need for placating gestures, it stared onward at its
master with unfeeling eyes. 'One of our number is missing, we know
not how or why.'

'You
are certain that this rogue automaton is not elsewhere in the
fortress?'

The
figure nodded. 'We have searched as one, she has escaped.'

This
was poor news and a cause of great frustration to Sarvacts, how could
a being under his will defy him so? Had he not taken the greatest of
care to prevent such a thing occurring?

He
scanned his memory for the remotest possibility of this happening,
yet still he couldn't think of any way that he could have
inadvertently freed one of those in thrall to him.

It
was an irritating catch that the beings he used to view distant lands
and people could not locate one of their own. It had never been a
problem, until now. Where would this escapee flee to? All they had
known was dead and gone and surely they would be shunned by society
should they try to reintegrate.

Sarvacts
stared out into space, mastering his own frustration and refusing to
let it get the better of him. What difference did one creature
outside of his control make? All the difference, this oversight was
proof positive that his power was slipping away from him. The sooner
Anacletus brought him the Elf to sacrifice the better.

Sarvacts
turned and paced off deeper into his fortress, there was no way of
determining for certain how it had escaped and there was less sense
in dwelling on that which he could not control. The automaton was
gone, for good or for ill, and there was no point in giving it
further thought.

Unless
those outside learned of her escape, which in turn would serve to
undermine his perception of power and dominance in the region. No, he
couldn't let this be, it would continue to nettle him long into the
dark nights if he did not at least attempt to deal with it.

He
motioned to one of his many thralls to come forth and heed his
bidding.

'Find
the missing automaton, do not cease your searching until you have
uncovered their whereabouts. Then bring them to me once more.'

The
creature grunted in acquiescence and limped off, it was a pitiful
attempt to recapture her but it was all he could muster with his
waning power right now.

He
would have to content himself with the possibility that the automaton
may find her and focus on other matters at hand.

Soon
Anacletus would return with El-Vador in tow, and in short order his
power would be restored if his guesswork about the vengeance was
correct. With the things he had discovered from his last surge he
felt confident that he would only need one more to stretch his
dominion back into the Orcish lands. From then on he would have no
trouble with sacrifices, he had many a score to settle.

He
smiled his crooked smile, the burns stretching painfully across his
skin. It wouldn't be long now.

Anacletus's
feet were beginning to tire from the constant pursuit by his quarry
as he approached the city of Caldalia, the last bastion of free
humanity before reaching Sarvacts' fortress.

It
was a place that many who had never ventured there spoke of in hushed
whispers. It was a cursed city they said, something about the people
inside was fundamentally wrong. They also claimed that those who
choose to visit it become one with the people there. He had yet to
meet anyone who had ventured into the city and survived, he always
gave it a wide berth. Unfortunately his employer had given him the
choice between taking the fastest route possible or arriving late and
dying. So the direct route through the city was an unwanted
necessity, he only hoped that it wasn't a fatal one too.

The
city wall was constructed of the same vast grey stone as the
mountains surrounding it. Anacletus found it hard to fathom that
human hands in such remote parts had constructed it, there was an
ancient air about it that looked nothing like the cities he had been
to before, which could have been built many times over out of the
stone used here. How had these people constructed such a giant
barrier and what need had they for it?

He
observed the huge wall for any signs of an entrance, finally spotting
one a fair trudge away from where he stood. Sighing to himself he
hobbled over on sore feet and hoped that someone was there to let him
in.

As
he reached the huge gates he began to wonder if the Caldalians wanted
visitors at all, it must take an enormous amount of energy to open
such a construct. Would they do so for a single traveller?

There
appeared to be no way to scale the wall and even less chance of
breaching the gates, he was beginning to run out of options should
these people not wish to allow entrance.

Not
seeing any other way to gain passage through to the city, Anacletus
rapped on the gate in the hopes of gaining someone's attention.

'Is
anybody in there?' he shouted, feeling a bit stupid for doing so.

The
sound of a latch being removed led to a small section of the gate
swinging open, a helmed face peered out of it with suspicion. 'What
brings you to Caldalia, stranger?'

Anacletus
tried to look as submissive as possible in the face of this
authority. 'I am a humble traveller sir, I seek entrance so that I
may pass through and into the mountains yonder.'

The
guard squinted at him, suspicion in his eyes. 'Really now? What
purpose have you with the mountains yonder?'

Anacletus
was not a patient man, and dealing with lackeys such as this was
quicker with a blade than a tongue. He knew that the only way into
the city for most travellers was through speaking to this man rather
than killing him. The gap in the gateway was deliberately made too
small for a man to pass through at the expense of the guard, a normal
man would have to use his wit and his words to convince the man to
open up. Anacletus was not a normal man.

'Well,
traveller? What reason have you for wanting to be beyond these
gates?'

As
he walked silently toward the hole in the gate, the guard's eyes
began to widen in alarm.

'Stand
back from there traveller, or I shall not let you in.' the guard
warned, making to close the hatch.

'Too
slow.' Anacletus said, taking a deep breath and leaping for the space
the careless man had left in the defences.

His
shadow was insubstantial as it shot through the air, its almost
weightless form propelled at great speed by the power of his jump.
The blade within was not, puncturing the sternum of the surprised
guard and causing him to topple off his post and onto the ground
below.

Anacletus
relaxed into corporeality once more, a smile playing across his lips
as he opened the smaller gate inside to allow his pursuit entrance.
Let the cursed city await him, he would not fear those to come.

The
shadows were lengthening when El-Vador and his companions finally
made it to the city. It was an eye-opening time for the young Elf as
the structure dwarfed even that of the keep he had seen before. Had
Sarvacts constructed something like this on Elven soil he would still
hold the mountains, he shuddered to think how large the fortress was
that his nemesis currently dwelt in.

'You
seem distracted,' Phaedra said to him. 'Is something the matter?'

She
seemed genuine in her questioning so El-Vador offered her a response.
'I've never seen a building of this magnitude before, is Sarvacts'
fortress much larger?'

Phaedra
shrugged. 'All large buildings of stone seem the same to me, too
pointlessly imposing for their own good. I measure them not.'

As
they made their way to the gate the trepidation that El-Vador had
felt on approaching such a thing was validated.

He
had thought at first that perhaps this was an ordinary thing for such
a huge city of men, a miniature gate within the gate so that many my
pass through in times of peace without having to repeatedly open the
larger doors. These thoughts were dispelled by the reactions of his
companions, especially that of Phaedra.

She
marched forward now, seemingly unconcerned that anything may lay in
wait for such blind action. He then heard her breath exhale.

Inside
the gate was a corpse hanging limply from a noose of what seemed to
be blackened smoke, upon the wall next to him were ominous words
painted in the man's own blood:

The
first to close this door will be the next to hang. I will be
watching.

El-Vador
stared at the line of guards that were keeping horrified and curious
bystanders at bay, wondering silently to himself whether they had
picked a bad time to enter. The guard captain seemed too flustered by
the scene to notice their arrival. 'Move along now citizens,' he
said, his voice struggling to rise above the din. Consequently nobody
paid any attention to Phaedra's odd complexion and they easily
managed to blend in with the rest of the bustling crowd. There was a
cry from the people as a body hit the floor, the smoky noose that had
held the body had vanished.

The
city's pungency hit him like a wave, a compression of everything he
once considered civilisation into one small space. With it came a
distinct cavalcade of sounds he was altogether unused to, alienating
his senses and lending colour to the odd surroundings. He stayed on
constant alert as he watched the crowds slowly part from the scene
and join the rest of the bodies in their long traversing of the city
streets. All minds seemed set at this hour on heading back to
wherever they called home in this vast place.

Slowly
they filtered off from the large main road into side streets and
alleys, the numbers dwindling to manageable levels. In turn
El-Vador's urge to lash out at the proximity of these odd people
faded, having only had the throng of battle to compare this feeling
to, the stress had mounted the longer they had remained in the
throng.

Fortunately
it was Phaedra who took the lead with a surety that neither El-Vador
nor Eihblin understood given that she was supposedly confined to her
former master's fortress. Had she some previous knowledge of the
workings of these huge cities from life prior to Sarvacts'
enslavement?