Bad Blood Runs Black - chapter twenty eight

Bad Blood Runs Black - chapter 28 by John "Basileus Ioannis"

*** Quick recap: Sybille von Pippenstock kidnaps Mistress Gertrude’s son Hans, to force her to help the traitor get into the Schloss dungeon to spring her compatriots. Pana and Chawinda uncover her attempt, and along with guards and war mages, they confront the dastardly wizard in the dungeons. A magical fight breaks out...Chawinda manages to steal Sybille’s teleportation device...and with Gertrude’s help, Pana finally ends the traitor. Now they must rescue Hans from the kidnappers! ***

Pana looked over the prisoners that Sybille had attempted to liberate...there were the three elf generals, four war mages loyal to the traitor, and Haergrim’s sister Rilthien. “Okay, Gertrude, we’re going to need fool-proof disguises here...you’re going to be Sybille, since you are our best wizard. Chawinda, Gemma and I will be the elf generals, since we are relatively armored and we can speak a smattering of Elvish. Master Tomas and three of his best war mages will act as the traitorous mages. Finally, Haergrim will be his sister, since their skill sets are so similar.”

Master Tomas the archmage chimed in, “At her leave, I can help Mistress Gertrude with the illusions. That will preserve our spell power for combat use.”

Gertrude nodded, and the two archmages began casting the spells. Soon, spitting images of the tall red-haired Sybille surrounded by the elves and traitors stood in the dungeon corridor.

“That’s not going to work, you know,” hissed Rilthien, livid at seeing her brother as a mirror image of herself. “The High Porte would have replaced their captured generals, and provided proficient mages that will see through this pathetic charade. You are all going to die.”

One of the elf generals in the corridor pointed an armored index finger at the prisoner, “Stifle it, you.”

Another general ordered, “Alright, Chawinda...everybody, get into character. When we arrive, we’re going to have to be convincing. Gertrude, I mean, Sybille, ready to be a murderous witch-hag?”

The tall flame-haired mage tossed her head back, and leered down her nose. “Of course, my dear flunky...I mean, ALLY.” Everyone snickered at her near-perfect mimicking of Sybille, but Gertrude was deadly serious inside...her thoughts were upon her poor son Hans. For all she knew, maybe Sybille was bluffing, but perhaps...

Pana the elf general put a mailed hand on the mage’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’re going to get Hans back...now, we must hurry. Activate the device.”

The faux Sybille held up the golden teleportation device, and concentrated...it glowed brightly, surrounding the party in its light. When the light winked out, the disguised party was gone.

“Fools,” muttered Rilthien, “they won’t last a minute...my stupid brain-washed brother...”

The party found themselves not in some High Porte camp, but at the mouth of a cave in the Lothengar Mountains. Several human guards stood at attention as the faux Sybille led the party towards them. “Mistress, you return successful!”

“Silence, dolt, of course I was successful!” snapped the mage. Pana the elf general rolled her eyes, thinking how Gertrude had the role down pat. She didn’t realize that it would have been the exact same reaction the real elf general would have had. The faux Sybille waved her hand dismissively, “And the boy?”

“He is in the cave, as you instructed, mistress. Shall we kill him now?”

The mage sneered, “No, I will do it myself. Assemble everyone right here, and wait, I will give you your instructions after I am finished. Go.”

The guard saluted, and ran off to one side of the mountain cave. Heh, it worked, thought Pana.

The party went into the cave, where they came upon two guards standing beside a tied and gagged boy lying on the floor. “Leave us, and join the others outside. Now.” The guards saluted and hastened to the cave exit, to join their fellows as much as to escape their temperamental mistress’ wrath.

So far, all the guards were human, and looked and sounded Hannetzbirger...they had not seen hide nor hair of any High Porte troops, elf or otherwise. Pana wondered where they had gone, but now that they had Hans, they would no longer need their disguises.

The guards had just barely left the cave, when the illusion spells ran their course, revealing the party for who they were. Gertrude dropped to her knees beside her boy. “Oh Hans, Hans, are you alright?” She undid his gag, and the boy stirred.

“Mutti, is it you?” the groggy youth squinted as his mother. Gertrude held him tightly, and sobbed in relief.

“Yes, my Liebchen, you are safe now...” She untied the ropes binding Hans, and checked him all over for injuries. “Did they hurt you? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mutti...these guys got me on my way to the Academy, I didn’t see them coming...” The boy appeared to have bruises on his arms and face from being mishandled by the thugs, and the ropes had left welts at his wrists and ankles.

Pana kneeled next to him and checked him over as well. Seeing the bruises and welts from the bindings, she laid her hand on his chest, and gripped her holy symbol with her other hand to cast a low-level healing spell.

The youth looked from his mother to Pana, and blushed. “Princess Pana! Uh, thank you...”

Finishing the spell, Pana smiled and rubbed her hand on top of his head. “Good as new! Okay, we have to leave, can you walk?”

The lad sprung to his feet in a youthful display of vigor, still blushing. Pana and Gertrude laughed softly.

“Gertrude, can we use the device to teleport back to the castle?” asked Pana.

“Unfortunately, no,” said Gertrude, knitting her brows, “the device’s dweomer is designed to bring someone here. We also do not have Teleportation spells memorized, and we did not bring our spellbooks on such short notice...we might have to foot it back to friendly lines.”

“Great...well, at least all the baddies will be lined up waiting for us to come out. It shouldn’t be too hard to knock ‘em down. Haergrim, can you guide us back from here?”

The elf ranger nodded, “When we arrived, I took note of our bearings, we should be about eighty leagues due east of the capital.”

Master Tomas looked worried, “But that means we’ll have many leagues of enemy-held territory to cross, even before we reach the front lines! We may have formidable spell power now, but...”

Gemma, too, appeared to dread the prospect of walking so far through enemy territory. “When we left the 7th Legion three days ago, they were in the vicinity of Biberg, astride the Silver Highway.  Even if they made spectacular progress in our absence, the front lines couldn’t have moved more than twenty leagues or so eastwards...so about sixty leagues to walk before we reach friendlies.”

A silence hung over the party as realization of their situation dawned upon them. They were about a hundred and eighty miles behind enemy lines. On foot, even without interference, it would take more than a week. Pana’s mind went through all the risks, the permutations, and it dawned on her.

“How did Sialkot the assassin, and Sybille, sneak into the capital?”

The party began searching the cave...after several seconds, Chawinda called out, “Hey, secret door here, looks like it might be a room.” The drow felt around the space, putting her ear to the wall. Pressing on one side of the secret door, it slid ajar, revealing a darkened chamber beyond. Pana cast Light on the ceiling, revealing Sybille’s inner sanctum.

“Interesting...Chawinda, Haergrim, check out that desk. Gertrude, Tomas, please go through her scrolls and books. Gemma and I will go through her clothes, see if they contain anything.” The party went to work, as Hans and the war mages kept guard outside the door.

They worked quickly, but it wasn’t looking good...Pana and Gemma searched each gown and dress for pockets, pouches, anything that could contain clues. Chawinda and Haergrim checked the desk for traps, then went from drawer to drawer, and found nothing. Gertrude and Tomas went through Sybille’s library of scrolls and texts, tossing them onto the bed as they finished. None of the tomes proved to be the traitor’s spellbook. Finally, Gertrude cried out, “Got it! Here’s a scroll discussing the device...”

Suddenly Hans ran into the room. “Mutti! Guards are coming!”

Chawinda muttered a curse, as Pana ordered, “Alright, we’ll have to take it with us, we’re out of time...everyone, into the sanctum, but conserve spells. Gemma, Haergrim, prepare for melee combat. Chawinda, flank them!”

Everyone else rushed into Sybille’s room, as Chawinda peered out, squinting in the light coming from the cave entrance. “I think I see three guards in armor...” she said as she disappeared into the darkness.

The guards cautiously approached the inner sanctum. “Mistress, we are assembled per your instructions...is everything alright?”

With the illusion spells expired, Gertrude did her best impression of Sybille and called out in feigned irritation, “I said wait outside!” The guards froze, and looked at each other...they weren’t buying it. Swords were drawn, and the three guards warily stepped towards the inner sanctum. Pana, Haergrim, and Gemma met them in the doorway, the wizards safe behind them. Five longswords and one heavy mace clashed...the guards backed up, slightly intimidated by Pana’s golden armor...and well they should be! She was an impressive sight, her armor and Vicama glittering in the shafts of light...her blue eyes ablaze, clenched white teeth gleaming between her full rosy lips. The high priestess thrust and parried like a leader of the warpriests that she was.

Beside her, Haergrim the ranger at first confused his opponent, for the guard couldn’t tell if the elf was a High Porte lord or not...his bearing was noble, his skills with sword magnificent, his complexion frosty. But this elf fought alongside two Hannetzbirger warpriests, and that was enough to convince the guard to take the elf down at all costs. But that would be an unfulfilled duty, for Haergrim ran him through. The guard became the first to fall.

On Pana’s other side, her younger sister Gemma the warpriest parried and swung with skill and determination. Two years of fighting on the frontlines with her elder sister had steeled Gemma into a veteran warrior-cleric, and her heavy mace was deadly. The guard tried to parry a savage downward swing, and the mace shattered his sword...in frustration, he grabbed the long haft of the mace with one hand, and tried to pummel the warpriest in her face with the other. Pana yelled, “GEMMA!” as the guard’s gauntlet rushed toward her sister’s face for a knockout blow...

Both remaining guards suddenly yelled out, and fell forwards onto the cave floor...Chawinda the drow, a master thief and Invisible Blade, had simultaneously backstabbed both warriors, bringing their fight to an end. She looked up to Gemma with a broad white grin that nearly glowed from her jet black face. She winked one ruby red eye, “Gotta work on your follow-through, young missy! When we get back to civilization, remind me to give you some pointers, like I did for your sister.”

Gemma and Pana were just about to thank Chawinda, when the drow suddenly whirled toward the cave entrance, and hissed...she jumped forward with her arms spread out to catch Gemma, Pana, and Haergrim, as a roiling fog of burning embers showered down on them. “GAAAH! Close the door! Close the door!” yelled the drow, her cape on fire. Gemma and Pana had fallen backwards, but Haergrim lurched toward the secret door despite the Incendiary Cloud blasting him in the face. He reached the door as Gertrude snapped off a Gust of Wind spell to blow the smoke and embers out of the room. The door snicked shut, and the smell of burned fabric and flesh filled the air with a choking haze.

Pana didn’t bother pulling Chawinda off of her before grasping her holy symbol and casting healing spells on her wounded friend. The drow’s quick reaction had saved her from serious harm, but the look on her anguished face betrayed the injury she had sustained. Pana’s hand glowed, as Gemma removed the ruined cloak and swatted out the fire...Chawinda’s hooded cloak had protected her argent hair, but the flames had burned her backside. As Pana laid her glowing hand upon her, the drow groaned in agony, “Rrrrghh...dung, I’ll bet that’s gonna leave a mark...” Her wounds healed, Chawinda gave a sigh of relief. “Thanks missy...how many times has this been, now?” Pana smiled and gave her a quick kiss.

Gemma suddenly gasped, “Haergrim!” The elf had braved the flaming assault to close the door. Still leaning against the secret door he had shut to save the rest of the party, his buckskins were scorched and smoking. Gemma ran to heal him, as Chawinda jumped up off of Pana so she could join her sister. Haergrim groaned as Gemma laid hands on him, one hand still gripping the edge of the door.

“I am not seriously injured, child, save your spell strength,” he stoically said, but Gemma finished healing the ranger. Pana ran up next to her sister, and checked the extent of his injuries, but outside of the singed buckskins, he appeared none the worse for wear.

“Thanks for closing the door, Haergrim,” Pana whispered, laying a hand on his face. It was still hot from the just-healed burns. She turned to Gertrude, “And thanks for that Gust of Wind spell! The scroll, is it safe?”

The Mistress of the War Mage Academy smiled and pulled the scroll out from her bosom. “It was in a safe place,” she said, and began poring over its contents. Young Hans looked at her with a sidelong glance, then at Pana and Gemma, and blushed...he looked adorable.

Smoke was leaking under the secret door, causing everyone to cough. Master Tomas said, “*cough* That Incendiary Cloud might last a couple minutes *cough* and it will draw out the air in this room *cough* filling it with smoke! We need to *cough* seal the doorway with Ray of Frost spells.” As if on cue, the warmages stepped toward the door, and cast the spells around the doorway. The smoke stopped invading the room, but the air was still hard to breathe.

Pana coughed and made her way next to Gertrude. “Any idea on how it works yet?”

“Yes...it’s like a wand of Greater Teleportation, but with programmable destinations so any wielder can use it. The upper half and lower half rotate to three presets...her notes scribbled on this scroll would indicate that the first setting is here, the second setting is to the High Porte command post, and the third was originally to the von Pippenstock estate, but it has been crossed out.”

“And not replaced?”

“No...she did not write down where the new destination is, if there is one.”

“Well, I doubt she would have dared teleporting to her manse, she would have been picked up by the authorities...but it is a pretty good bet that it was somewhere within the capital, and close to the War Mage Academy if she was able to sneak in there without getting caught.”

“Yes, I concur. We know that the device is currently set for here...the problem is, do we rotate the device to the left, or to the right? If we choose wrongly, we will end up in the High Porte command post.”

“Been there, done that...okay, so left or right...hmm...Gertrude, do you know if Sybille was left handed or right handed?”

“I believe left...why?”

“Well, she would be left dominant then...it’s just a hunch, but I’m right handed, and I would rotate it to the right. Let’s go with left rotation...I mean, if I was wrong, we can just rotate it once more, then we would go to...wherever the hells number three would be.”

“Assuming we haven’t expended all the charges,” added Gertrude grimly. Pana grimaced.

The air was getting pretty bad in the inner sanctum, but the flickering glow around the doorway had faded. There was a scraping noise outside. Chawinda raised her arms toward the door. “Sounds like someone’s outside, missy...whatever we’re gonna do, make it fast!” Haergrim held his sword at the ready, Gemma held her mace up, the warmages prepared to cast spells, and Hans wrapped an arm around his mother’s arm, looking up at her face with apprehension.

Pana ordered, “Alright, gather around everyone...and if we end up in the High Porte command post, stick together and we’ll try it again. Gertrude, let’s get out of here!”

Gertrude rotated the device until an audible click sound rang out. She held up the device and concentrated...it glowed brightly, and the party gathered in a tight ring around her. Suddenly the door flew open, and a cluster of guards backed up by High Porte mages stood in the doorway. Seeing the bright glow, they rushed toward the party...but too late...the glow winked out, and the warriors ran into thin air. “Blast!” their leader yelled, smashing his gauntlet on Sybille’s desk. The elf mages merely raised an eyebrow and looked upon the human warriors in disdain.

The glow faded, and Pana looked around, Vicama held at the ready...she did not recognize the large chamber, but Gertrude did. “Why, it’s my office at the Academy! As a matter of fact, this is the very spot former Master von Hemstedt had set up his magic portal before it was destroyed. This can’t be coincidence, I must research this building more...”

“Perhaps later, Gertrude...right now, do you have a crystal set?”

“Yes, I keep it on my desk yonder, it has a cloth over it.”

“I see it...I need to talk to someone immediately...”

An hour later, Ywan Bladimirowskiy led his squadron of AITENs over the Lothengar range. “Squadron leader to all squadron elements...target is below, follow me in...” The birds swooped down towards the cave entrance...several mages lobbed Fireballs and Lightning Bolts up at them, but they hugged the terrain, coming in so low that their armored wings clipped the tops of tall pines growing on the mountainside. One by one, they raked the enemy and the cave with Meteor Swarms before banking away from the mountains...the mountainside erupted in a series of flaming explosions, looking for all intents and purposes like a volcano. The AITENs swooped up into the clouds unhurt...Ywan looked over his shoulder at his squadron’s handiwork...as the smoke cleared, the enemy troops were gone...the cave was gone...in their place was a massive new crater several hundred feet across. The blackened scar on the mountain was visible for miles around, and in years to come, locals would come to name it The Black Blood of the Traitors.

--- to be continued ---