Brave Men Die: Part 3 Page 2

  ‘You don’t know what kind?’ Finn asked, disbelieving. ‘Rigel brought you its head.’

  ‘Yes, it was very good of Rigel to kill it, but maybe he could have done it without bleeding so much.’

  ‘Hey,’ Rigel muttered.

  Carina reassuringly tightened the grip on his shoulder. ‘Still, summoning is not my area of expertise. I’m better off speaking to one of the elders about its origins rather than guessing.’

  ‘Are there more out there?’ Finn asked, looking over his shoulder to the field where Rigel had left the rotting carcass.

  Carina looked at Rigel who shook his head. ‘I only tracked the one...’

  ‘I’ve checked since you blacked out,’ Carina reassured him. ‘I scanned the area. There is no sign of another of those beasts, but nor could I find the origin of the power that summoned it here.’

  ‘So you being here is achieving …?’ Finn started.

  Carina stared at him.

  ‘It was Rigel that tracked and killed the shadow creature. You haven’t actually done anything yet,’ Finn added.

  ‘All he has done is bleed all over the place,’ she said with a smile and a wink.

  ‘And I’ve done that with gusto.’ Rigel grimaced after he laughed, clutching at his wound.

  Carina squeezed his shoulder a little tighter. ‘Any chance you can ride today?’

  Rigel pointed in the general direction of his wounds and nodded his head. ‘Yeah darling, I’m right as rain.’

  ‘A simple no would have been fine.’

  ‘When do you want to go?’

  ‘As soon as you stop bleeding.’

  ‘Picked what you want yet?’

  ‘I’m still deciding. Have you looked at the list?’

  ‘I noticed that you circled some things for me, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Good. Pick one of them for me.’

  ‘So there’s a few things you want down there, Carina?’ Finn asked.

  Carina shrugged.

  ‘How are you going to decide?’

  ‘I won’t. I plan on taking what I want.’

  Finn broke into laughter. ‘The archaeologists are going to chase you down.’

  ‘Nah, Rigel will kill them.’

  Finn looked from Carina to Rigel. ‘They are paying me to protect them and the dig site.’

  ‘Are we going to have a problem with you Finn?’ Carina asked.

  ‘How much are you planning to take?’

  ‘Only a couple of things — definitely not enough for Rigel to kill you over, but.’

  Finn hesitated at her seriousness. He knew Rigel was the better swordsman, and was considering whether Carina would order Rigel to actually kill his own uncle.

  A thin smile formed on Carina’s lips, judging what the older man was thinking. ‘If you feel obliged to try and stop us, I’ll make sure he only wounds you, so you can say you at least tried.’

  ‘Gods, you two will be the death of me,’ Finn said, shaking his head. ‘Can you leave some fake things in place of whatever you take?’

  ‘That could be possible, I’d need to acquire a few things …’

  ‘Make it bloody possible. I don’t need you thieving things, especially since I brought you in.’

  Rigel clasped his uncle on his shoulder, keeping him seated. ‘I’ll sort it out Finn. The diggers will know nothing.’

  Carina led Rigel to the dig site, moving with hurried expectation. Today was the day that she would walk away with untold secrets from centuries ago. Ara would never be able to keep up with her development now. Finally she might be able to leap ahead of her and join the Eighth Circle first.

  The diggers eyed them suspiciously as they neared. Finn had told them that they were coming to collect their fee and none were happy about it. They had argued that they hadn’t had the adequate time to study and catalogue all the material.

  Carina had scoffed at their request for another week with the two items that they’d selected. Once they had taken their two items, they were returning to the Academy where she was determined to study the wealth of new material.

  The diggers lined the walkway to the underground site, tools in hand as Finn stood at the entrance blocking their entry. He stood next to the lead archaeologist who had a clipboard in hand, ready to mark down what they had taken.

  ‘You have to leave your bag outside,’ the archaeologist stated.

  Carina glanced from her bag to Finn, who only nodded his head reluctantly. She propped her bag against the small wall beside the entry to be met with the smiles of the dig team that thought they had just stopped her from stealing more than she was entitled to.

  ‘We are not to be disturbed until we are ready to come out,’ Carina stated as she followed Rigel into the underground chamber.

  ‘You have an hour,’ the lead digger started, but was cut short when Carina cast and a barrier formed across the entrance.

  ‘Was that necessary?’ Rigel asked.

  ‘Yes, it put them in their place. I’ll not work to anyone’s deadline but my own.’

  Rigel continued down the hall in the dark, heading instinctively toward the chamber. In the darkness he let his injuries show, walking with a limp and clutching his side. Carina snapped her fingers and her orb of light appeared over her shoulder once they were out of the diggers’ vision, illuminating the hall and beyond. Rigel didn’t falter, his eyes adjusted immediately and he stepped confidently into the chamber.

  ‘So this is what all of you have been salivating over?’ he asked, looking around.

  The diggers had cleaned the room since Carina had first been in there. The dust had been removed and brackets had been mounted to the walls to carry torches. Every item had been carefully cleaned, moved and catalogued.

  ‘Do you know what you want?’ Rigel asked.

  ‘I’ve made a list. I’ll have to verify a few things but yeah, I know what I want.’

  Rigel leaned against the wall beside the entrance and indicated she should get on with it.

  ‘You know, if I’m stealing what I want, you probably can choose something that you actually want.’

  Carina moved quickly to the collection of books, scanning the titles for those she’d highlighted on the list she had been provided. The first she found was of no use, same name but instead of a mage, the book was collated by a cook. Of the other six, only three were the spellbooks of magi.

  Swanson’s was there, and she sighed in relief. He was one of the most creative and dangerous magi of his era and what would be contained within the pages of his own compendium would be exceptional. Carina planned to devour the spells within Beyond and marvelled at the possibilities of what she could learn.

  Battle Lore had been Dale Struthers’ crowning achievement and copies had been lost in the purge. For centuries now, magi had gone to war with only limited knowledge of what battle spells were most effective and destructive, those passed down by the survivors of the purge. They had mostly been novices or lowly ranked magi, the senior magi had never returned from the fields and what they had cast there had gone with them to their graves. It was claimed Struthers had created the most brutal spells, had wandered the borders for skirmishes to test them. Legends described him as a one-man wrecking ball.

  The third and final book was written by a female mage and was simply titled Manipulating Weaves. Carina had never heard of Lola Gale, but the contents looked promising. It was all about twisting the weaves, incorporating new elements from other spells and combining the strengths. The concept was simply fascinating.

  ‘Can you help me with this?’ Carina asked, disrobing.

  Carina turned her back to Rigel and he opened the thin pack and removed the two books that they had prepared earlier. Carina had aged them with a spell that made them artificially appear as if they belonged with everything else in the chamber. Rigel picked up the first spellbook and placed it in the pack, then the second, before closing it securely.

  He held up her robe for Carina to slip into, befo
re walking over to the table with the weapons and picking up a dagger with a sheath that was practically falling apart.

  ‘There are prettier ones than that,’ Carina provoked. ‘There is one encrusted with gems.’

  ‘Pull out the blade,’ Rigel prompted, indicating the fancy dagger.

  Carina moved to the table and unsheathed the blade. The hilt was in good condition, but the blade had rusted.

  ‘In my line of work that dagger is nothing but useless. The gems could make me rich but acolytes don’t really accumulate wealth and if I wore it, someone would try to slit my throat while I slept.’

  ‘And that one?’

  Rigel flicked the blade up an inch with his thumb. The red tempered steel flashed eerily in the magical light. The edge was as sharp as the day it was forged and Carina got the sense that the blade was probably the most valuable artefact in the chamber.

  ‘They are going to hate you.’

  ‘This will probably be the reason they hunt us down,’ Rigel joked.

  ‘An Acheon blade. I thought these only existed in royal treasuries these days.’

  ‘I guess not all of them.’

  ‘I didn’t see it listed …’

  ‘No, you didn’t. They kept this all to themselves, it was described as an old dagger in a rotting sheath. Practically the most unappealing item on that list.’

  ‘So does this make you a blade master?’

  ‘Huh, gorgeous, you know how to make me laugh. I’m the furthest from it that you can imagine.’

  Carina stepped closer and kissed him gently on the mouth. His hand came up to hold her at the back of her neck and pulled her body close to his. Finally, she pulled away from him, both wearing smiles.

  ‘And that is why you are mine Rigel Harding — nothing proper about you at all.’

  After a moment more of kissing, Rigel released her taut body. ‘I think it’s time we smuggled your prizes out of here and got you back to your precious Academy.’

  ‘Why so eager?’

  ‘I want you in a proper bed.’

  Carina playfully slapped him across the face and stormed down the hall with mock indignation.

  Rigel caught back up as Carina reached the barrier. Snapping her fingers, the orb of light diminished and the barrier dissipated. The diggers eyed them suspiciously and Finn, standing there aloof, only rolled his eyes at Carina’s flair for the dramatics.

  Carina presented the book that Rigel hadn’t tucked away. Beyond promised to be the most explosive of the three and if they had any idea about the importance of the books in their possession, they would have guessed this was the volume she would have opted for.

  The head archaeologist scribbled the title down in his ledger and, disgruntled, turned to Rigel who held up his selection.

  ‘Old dagger in rotting sheath,’ Rigel told him, with a smile as cold as ice.

  The man’s face turned sour when he registered exactly what the acolyte had chosen. Yet Carina noticed that none of the other diggers’ expressions had changed, which meant that only one of them knew the true value of the dagger.

  Carina collected her bag from Finn. ‘The site is all yours. We’re going home.’

  Finn walked with them back to the camp and only opened his mouth when he was sure that no one would overhear their conversation.

  ‘So how much did you steal?’

  ‘Only what was worth stealing,’ Carina answered.

  ‘And that was?’

  ‘Only two books, which we replaced,’ Rigel answered honestly. ‘It will take them a while to figure it out, if they ever do.’

  Finn nodded, as if weighing up his options. ‘Two books is alright I think. It’s not like you emptied out the entire room.’

  ‘Show him your dagger Rigel,’ Carina prompted.

  Finn looked anxiously at him. ‘What did you smuggle out of there? Clearly the prize isn’t that piece of shit.’

  Rigel handed the dagger over without ceremony. Finn turned it over in his hands, scrutinising the sheath first. Then he pulled the blade out by the plain hilt to reveal the red tempered steel. Finn stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth open.

  ‘Boy …’

  ‘I was as surprised as you are,’ Carina said. ‘Who knew he had such an eye for treasure.’

  Rigel shrugged with a smile. ‘I’m not just a pretty face.’

  Carina and Finn laughed, Finn almost doubled over and Carina wiping tears from the corner of her eyes.

  ‘I’m hurt, you two should know better,’ Rigel mocked.

  ‘Ah Rig,’ Carina said, clasping his head between her hands, ‘I always knew you were something special.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Pollux heard his name called over the sounds of the battle and removed himself from the front line as Sergeant Field, who was recently out of the infirmary, hurtled toward him and screamed something about archers, pointing back toward the mountainside. Pollux gazed out under his hand and could make out the shadows amongst the rocks and the arrows sailing through the sky.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ he muttered under his breath.

  He turned, looking for Ara, but found no one other than his soldiers. He remembered their earlier conversation about her casting from the tower top and silently cursed himself for forgetting.

  Turning to the sergeant he ordered, ‘Organise ten men and meet me in the courtyard below. We are going up into the mountains to get rid of them. You have five minutes to be fully armed and ready.’

  Field nodded and Pollux took off toward the internal staircase, racing past the fighting on the walls. Lava Orbs erupted from Ara’s hands when he emerged into the daylight and the screams of the dying found his ears.

  ‘I need a favour,’ he said, grabbing hold of her arm.

  ‘Spit it out, I don’t have time to waste talking.’

  ‘I need to get ten men up onto the mountainside to deal with enemy archers.’

  ‘I can only teleport them one at a time, I still haven’t figured out how to do it on masse.’

  ‘I can deal with that. Sergeant Field is asking for volunteers right now. They are assembling in the courtyard in three minutes. I’ll be down there myself just as soon as I’ve spoken to Octans.’

  Pollux took off before Ara had the chance to reply, knowing that she would be there for him — even if she was helping to send him to his death. He passed Cygnus on the left half of the rampart and headed further along where the fighting was the heaviest, exactly where Octans would be defending. His friend was pushing himself to be where he was needed, whether it was amongst the Howlers or any of the remaining Buckthorne units.

  ‘I’m going to deal with our problem in the mountains. Look after things until I get back.’

  Octans nodded and went back into it, swinging his sword down onto some bastard’s head. Pollux managed to grab hold of a runner, the young man’s arm in a sling. ‘Octans is in charge until I return. Inform the men.’

  He hurried to the rendezvous where Sergeant Field stood at the front of the selected men, all ready to go.

  Ara teleported down the instant Pollux came to a stop before the men, looked between the soldiers and the mountain, then grabbed Field by the shoulder. They were gone an instant later. Ara returned by herself, grabbed the next man in line and went again. After the seventh had gone Ara came back, a worried look in her eyes.

  ‘They have found the enemy,’ she reported, grabbing another and going again.

  ‘Get me there now,’ Pollux ordered after Ara had come and gone another three times depositing his men somewhere in the mountains.

  Ara put a hand on the side of his face and suddenly he was in the mountains with her lips pressed against his.

  ‘Do you want me to stay?’

  ‘No you’re needed elsewhere. Just make sure you come get us when we need you.’

  With that Ara was gone and he instantly dropped to one knee and looked around. The sounds of clashing steel were close by and came from multiple directions at once. He guessed Ara had sp
lit up the troops to give them a better chance. Hopefully some of them were still alive.

  Racing toward the closest combat, Pollux struck a Kyzantine in the back and moved on, leaving his soldier to catch up. Screams filled the air as the enemy called for reinforcements and the Murukans did their best to silence the shouts.

  Pollux kept moving, forced himself along an obvious path that he suspected would leave him very vulnerable to attack. Two Kyzantines came running toward him, swords raised above their heads. He sidestepped the first blow, impaled the first in the stomach and as he wrenched his blade free the second was taken by the man following.

  Following the distinct sounds of battle he left the path and pushed further around to the left out to a precipice. What he saw surprised him. Three men dressed in mercenary colours were crouched by the edge, looking out over the battle below. Kyzantine corpses lay behind them and the blades the men carried were slick with blood.

  Before Pollux could move, one of his men came thundering out onto the edge, screaming as he raised his blade to attack. Two of the men turned and stood, adopting battle stances before one carved his blade through the man’s chest.

  Pollux locked eyes with the other warrior, his heart pumping furiously from the adrenalin coursing through his system. There was a moment of recognition, an adversary worth killing, and the man moved to engage. Pollux stepped forward as the sergeant and another soldier raced past, blood frenzied, and swung their blades at the enemy.

  Pollux leapt after them, tried to fight the silently issued challenge, but the sergeant got there before him. He turned to engage the other advancing mercenary when an arrow flew past his head. The Kyzantine archers had decided to wipe out both groups while they distracted each other and had moved in for the kill.

  Turning, he drilled his sword through the chest of the closest, the steel punching out the man’s back and showering his companion in blood and gore. Denied the opponent he really wanted to fight, Pollux went after the Kyzantines with vigour.

  Soon the precipice was chaotic, with all three factions involved in the life or death struggle. Pollux monitored the situation behind him. The three mercenaries were a concern. The swordsman was still engaged with the sergeant and now two of his men, the other with the battle axe had run off to deal with the approaching Kyzantines. But the third, smaller man had still not moved from the cliff edge, continuing his vigil over the battle below.