Authors: Diana Quippley
“You break a
treaty that was set in stone three years ago.” Rogan snarled. “You shall may
for your effrontery.”
“You poor fools,
brave and daring to a fault.” The skeletal figure’s narrow shoulders shook.
“You barge in headlong into plans that have been in motion for years without a
thought.”
“What has become
of Norton, Duke of Avangalus?” Rogan demanded, his fists tightening on the hilt
of his twin broadswords.
“He served his
purpose well,” Nostrazcus shook his head. “And is of no further use to me now.
He was easy to play with, his dreams of grandeur were easily to manipulate. But
not so with the Duke of Kirk Falls, not when he has such fine champions to hide
behind.”
“What do you want,
coward?” Belen yelled.
“Why, this
bountiful land, of course.” Nostrazcus replied to the young archer, eyeing him
with interest...
“Not with an army
of useless cowards like yourself.” Rogan shook with rage. “You will pay tenfold
for all the misery you have brought upon fair Kirk Falls.”
“And who will make
me pay?You?” The wizard countered. “You who are as much an outlander to this
place as I?”
“I have proved
myself and have earned my place here.” The tall knight seethed. “Your scheming
head will adorn a spike long after the people have forgotten your name.”
“Heavy words,
knight.” Nostrazcus laughed. “They will weigh down on you hard, soon enough.
You have thwarted my plans long enough, Northman. With whatever gods protecting
you, you have been a thorn in my side long enough. And though I have tried, it
seems I cannot kill you, but I have for you a fate much worse than death.”
“Do your worst,
wizard.” Rogan snarled. “My faith and love will prevail.”
“As it so far has,
I see.” The wizard eyed the glowing talisman on the warrior’s neck. “But are
your men as gifted as you?”
Rogan narrowed his
eyes as the wizard drew his hands together and made a few strange signs with
sparks emitting from his skeletal fingers. Six naked women, more beautiful and
alluring than any he had seen, appeared out of nowhere. Their radiant eyes and
warm luscious smiles indicated the prospect of bawdy pleasures the war-weary
men had not enjoyed for days.
Belen stood with
mouth open, his eyes darting from one naked beauty to the next as they
displayed their voluptuous virtues with uninhibited acquiescence. His hands
shook and he gripped his recurved bow tighter.
“Pleasures such as
these beauties and much treasure await you, brave warriors, if you all but
surrender to me.”Nostrazcus’ voice suddenly sounded warm and seductive, and he
waved his hands again making three large treasure chests overflowing with gold
and jewels appear out of thin air just as the women had done. “Kirk Falls will
prosper more than it ever has under my benevolence.”
“These are mere
illusions, wizard.” Draco laughed. “Fit to enthrall the minds of the weak.”
“So think you,
master scout.” Nostrazcus sneered and waved his hands, gesturing at the women.
“What more does any man want, but riches and wealth, and the love of a warm,
willing woman or three? Why fight you for land when everything that you really
desire is here at your disposal?”
The six women
walked up languorously toward Belen and Harald, pressing their warm, naked
flesh against the hardened warriors. The two men staggered, and their grim
faces softened. Nostrazcus laughed triumphantly as they stepped up toward the
wizard and then turned around to face Rogan with malevolent gleams in their
eyes, and their arms around the accommodating curves of the clinging women.
“He has them
ensnared. They are bewitched by those whores and gold.” Draco said sharply. “Be
wary, Captain. We may have to fight our own brothers-in-arms.”
Rogan
instinctively drew his twin broadswords as did Draco. The two men braced
themselves for the wizard’s next move.
“Well said,
master scout.” Nostrazcus hissed, snapping his fingers. “But your fight is
over.”
Before Rogan could
move, Draco jerked backward with two of Belen’s lethal arrows embedded deep in
his broad chest. The loyal scout looked at his captain with dying eyes, his
lips curled in a silent smile affirming the honor he had felt in his service
under Rogan.
“Coward, you gave
him no fighting chance.” Rogan roared at the wizard, taking a step toward him.
“Yes, but you have
more than a fighting chance, outlander.” Nostrazcus sneered, waving at Harald
to attack. “The amulet of love you wear keeps you safe from evil, but will it
protect you from your own man.”
Rogan took a step
back as the huge warrior he had fought alongside as brothers-in-arms for years
now squared off against him. He did not wish to kill Harald, but knew it in his
heart that he must. He forced himself to think that Harald was already lost and
the one he faced now was just another minion of the wizard. He offered a silent
prayer for Harald’s soul and deftly sidestepped the huge man’s killing axe
blow. His own sword swiftly slit the giant’s throat, granting him a rapid, near
painless death.
“Your skills are
beyond your own legend.” Nostrazcus laughed, and grasped Belen by his neck. “I
will spare this one from your wrath. He will be of service to me when I take
over Kirk Falls.”
“You will do that
only when my cold body hits the ground.” Rogan roared and lunged for the
grinning wizard.
Nostrazcus took a
step back and waved his hands, incanting strange words. A flash of red and
yellow light exploded before him forming an orb of pale orange. In his headlong
lunge, Rogan dived right into the glowing orb. His body went stiff and his face
contorted in pain, his swords fell out of his twisted hands and he felt like he
was inside a raging water spout.
“Your amulet
protects you from death by my hand, Rogan of Vindarland.” He heard the wizard
shout as if from far away. “But I have other ways to rid of you… forever.”
Everything began
to spin around him. He felt his insides twist and stretch. The urge to throw up
overcame him. He could see the wizard and Belen, and all the wizard’s spearmen
whipping around the room as if they were in an endless carousel. His head
pounded furiously and his heart felt like bursting. A sharp pain filled his
mind, making him almost scream and then everything stopped spinning and went
pitch black and deathly silent.
~ ~ ~
“Just another
drunken bum, Harry.” The lilting nasal voice brought him to his senses.“You
think this jerk’s got any greenbacks on ‘im?”
“It don’t matter
if he’s got no money.” Another raspy voice cut in. “His fine leather boots and
that shiny gold necklace gotta be worth something.”
Rogan’s eyes shot
wide open. The stench and decadence around him hit his senses hard. He
scrambled up rapidly to his feet trying to get his bearings. He looked around
frantically, feeling disoriented. He was unarmed and his armor was gone as
well. All he wore was his tunic, leggings and boots. He clasped at the amulet
on his neck, trying to calm his ragged nerves. It was dark and cold; and the
vile stench of refuse filled him with nausea. He stood upright and stared
right at the two other men in the dismal surroundings. They were unlike any
other men he had ever seen, dressed in strange garb and brandishing what looked
like work tools as weapons. He opened his mouth to warn them, but his feet gave
in from under him and his head spun wildly. He went down in a heap, hitting his
head on something hard and cold.
“Whoa!” The first
voice sounded excited. “This one’s really high on something, Harry. I gotta get
me some of what he’s been drinking.”
“Quit wasting
time, Marv.” The second voice was impatient. “Let’s get his boots and that
jewel off him before he wakes up again. He’s a real big feller and he looks
mean.”
“Who are… you?”
Rogan slurred, pushing himself up. “Where in the name of Heaven…”
“Holy shit, he’s
getting up after that smack on the head from the pavement.” Marv shrieked. “His
head must be harder than concrete.”
“Shut it, Marv.”
Harry growled. “Hit ‘im with your crowbar. We gotta have those boots and the
gem.”
“Away, foul
beasts.” Rogan pushed himself up, staggering around on unsure feet. “Where the
Hell am I?”
“Foul beasts?”
Harry grunted. “Who the ‘ell you think youse is, fella?”
“He ain’t from
around here, that’s for sure.” Marv grinned. “He talks funny.”
“I hear you speak,
and yet your tongue is most foul.” The tall knight exhaled deeply, towering
over both the would-be muggers. “Once again I ask you, where am I?”
“Man, he must’ve
really drunk his head off, this one.” Marv laughed.
“You’re in Hell,
big guy.” Harry sneered. “And we’re the Devil’s repo-men. You owe us big.”
“I know not what
you speak of.” Rogan looked around dazedly. “Yet, if you say this is Hell, then
I am dead.”
“We all are, soon
enough.” Marv nodded. “Now hand over your boots and necklace and we’ll let you
live.”
“Surely you jest.”
Rogan groaned, grasping at his throbbing head.
“Just what?” Marv
looked around him.
“Hit him, Marv.”
The shorter of the two muggers yelled. “Let’s get on with it.”
Marv nodded and
swung his crowbar in a wide arc toward the crouching man’s head. His eyes
popped wide as a huge hand grabbed the crowbar inches before its intended
target and excruciating pain exploded in Marv’s brain. He staggered back, blood
and several broken teeth spilling out of his open mouth. His eyes rolled in his
head and he went down in a heap.
Rogan glared at
the other mugger, his bloodied fist pulled back for another killing blow and
the crowbar held high in his other hand. Harry had seen enough. No one in his many
years as a mugger had ever moved so fast, and he instinctively knew he was up
against something out of the ordinary. He did what served him best. Turning on
his heels he ran as fast as his short legs could carry him, hoping that the
huge man was not as fast a sprinter as he was a fighter.
“What is this
place?” Rogan looked around, ignoring the fleeing mugger. “Am I truly dead?”
He remembered
fighting Harald in the tower and then the wizard struck him with some kind of
arcane spell. It was night now, wherever he was. He realized that the wizard
had not slain him, but sent him away to some other place. He had to find his
way back to Kirk Falls and to Alicia.
The dark alley he
stood in was strewn with filth and refuse. It looked like some kind of large
town or even a city. Strange lights and the sharp sound of horns kept coming
from all directions, not helping with the throbbing pain in his head. He was
not dead, he felt sure and this was some sort of illusion the wizard had
managed to imprison him in, he told himself. That helped him from going insane,
at least for the moment. He looked up at the dimly lit doorway in the far
corner of the dark alley and strode towards it. He was sure that he would find
some answers on the other side of that door.
“Customers through
the front, pal.” A short, haggard looking woman with a broom in her hand barked
at him as he stepped through the door. “Unless you’re the new bouncer Merle
hired. They never tell me anything.”
Rogan remained
silent, staring down at the woman. She had some kind of lit stick in her mouth
with smoke coming out of the far end and from her thin lips as she spoke.
“Big mute brute,
are you?” She went on, puffs of smoke accompanying each word. “You’ve gotta be
the bouncer then, go this way, takes you to the bar counter.”
Rogan nodded his
thanks and headed in the direction she showed. He could hear her grumbling about
something as he cautiously made his way through the cluttered passage. He felt
sure that Nostrazcus was watching him and enjoying himself.
“And who the heck
are you?” The thin man behind the counter jerked up as Rogan walked up beside
him. “No one but the barman is allowed back here.”
“I am the
bouncer.” Rogan said, eyeing the man cautiously.
“And I am Bruce
Lee.” The thin man gritted his teeth. “I know the new bouncer Merle hired and
you ain’t him.”
“The woman in the
back said…” Rogan pointed back the way he came.
“Merle is in
charge here, not that old crone.” The thin bartender sneered. “Now get out
before I call the wrath of God on your head.”
“You remind me of
the accursed wizard.” Rogan snarled, aggravated by the man’s arrogance. “I
think you are him… hiding behind an illusion.”
“Are you some
kinda loon, pal?” The barman yelled, getting everyone’s attention toward the
counter. “Get a load of this guy; bet he’s looking for some free brew.”
“I’m looking for a
way back to Kirk…” Rogan began and found himself staring at the thick end of a
wooden cudgel.
“You show him
whose boss, Lenny.” Someone shouted from the seated crowd.
“This here’s a
Louisville Slugger, baby.” The barman grinned. “Now beat it, before I slug you
for a homer.”
“Surely you jest.”
Rogan laughed back.
“I just what?”
“To think you can
best me with that child’s toy.” Rogan laughed aloud.
“Watch me, bub.”
The barman growled and swung the baseball bat in a wide arc, aimed for the
taller man’s head.
Rogan parried the
blow with his left forearm, and at the same time grabbed the man’s skinny neck
with his huge right hand, lifting him clean off the floor.
“Hey, that
weirdo’s got Lenny.” He heard a voice roar. “He’s hurting him something bad.”
“Let’s get that
sonnovabiatch.” Another yelled. “Show him who he’s messing with.”
Even though he
didn’t follow the words he heard, Rogan knew their hostile intent. Turning to
face the half dozen brawny men getting off their seats and coming for him, he
hurled the skinny barman over the counter, sending him sprawling into the first
two men racing up. Vaulting over the wooden divide, Rogan dived into the
remaining attackers; his heavy fists bringing each one down with a single blow
to the face.
Within moments the
seven were lying on the ground around his feet, groaning and whimpering.
Rogan’s steel-eyed stare scanned the room at the others who had all stood up
from their tables.Some of them were moving away towards the exit. He realized
then that he was in some kind of tavern or eating house.
“Is there anyone
else who would deem fit to fight me?” He roared. “Is this the best you can do,
wizard? As ever, only cowards and misfits serve you.”
“Take it easy, big
guy.” A short squat man in an old dark grey coat called out to him with his
hands raised in a peaceful gesture. “Ain’t no one left here to fight. You took
out the entire muscle this place has.”
“What is this
place and who are you?” Rogan glared down at the older man.
“New around here,
I see.” The short man smiled, walking up gingerly. “This is Billy Dagote’s Bar
and Grill and I’m Rip O’Malley.”
“I am Rogan of
Kirk Falls.” The warrior bowed slightly, keeping an eye on the other man.
“Pleased to meet
you, Rogan O’Kirkfalls.” O’Malley smiled. “It does my heart good to meet
someone back from the old home country.”
“Home?” Rogan
stared at the smaller man. “Are you too from Kirk Falls?”
“Never heard of
the place, lad.” O’Malley smiled wide. “But I know ye’re from old Ireland,
judging by that sweet accent.”
“Aye, that I am,
and from the fair town of Kirk Falls.” Rogan nodded.
“If you say so.”
O’Malley grinned. “You look like you could use a drink. Can I buy you
something, Rogan?”
“Aye, I am in need
of drink… and food.” Rogan suddenly realized that he was hungry, but he eyed
the man with some suspicion.
“It’s all good,
folks. He’s from my old hometown, just a bit lost and confused.” O’Malley waved
at the others in the bar. “He’s sorry about this bit of misunderstanding. Lenny’ll
be fine and so will the others.”
“If you say so,
Rip.” One of the few still in the bar replied. “You’re the man.”
After a few
minutes, Rogan found himself sitting at table with a large pitcher of what
tasted somewhat like Ale and a platter of roasted pork. He ate the food and
downed a few large mugs of the bitter drink, feeling a lot better since he had
woken up.
“You’re an
Irishman all right.” O’Malley laughed. “No one else can down that many Beers
and eat as much red meat in such short notice.”
“To your good
health.” Rogan smiled, raising a large mug before downing it in one go.
“And to loads of
money.” O’Malley’s blue eyes glittered. “Tell me, Rogan, what is it that you do
back in Falkirk?”
“You mean Kirk
Falls…” Rogan corrected. “I am just a mere fighter there.”
“A fighter!” The
other man nodded. “Then you’re in luck, old boy. For I am looking for a man
just like you.”
“What for,
O’Malley?” Rogan narrowed his green eyes at the man and sharply cricked his
muscular neck.
“To fight and make
money.” O’Malley said with a shrug.
“But I just wish
to get back to Kirk Falls.” Rogan shook his fiery blond head. “I know not how I
came to be here, but I must find my way back.”
“Oh, you will. But
to get you back to Ireland from here, you need to have money.” O’Malley patted
the larger man’s muscle-bound arm. “And I’m guessing you haven’t any on you.”
“Aye, I have no
gold to my name, so I must find work.” The warrior knight admitted with a
rueful smile.
“Yeah, ain’t that
the truth.” O’Malley put on his sage face. “No work, no money, no nothing.”
“What work can I
find here?” Rogan eyed him closely.
“The same you do
back home… fight.” The shorter man shrugged. “There’s good money for fighters
here too. As well as certain other perks and bonuses for a man of your amazing
abilities.”
“Aye, but do you
think I might do well doing that here too.” Rogan cocked his fiery blonde head.
“I’ve just seen
you down seven big men in less than twenty seconds.” O’Malley shook his eyes
and smiled. “I’m sure you’ll do very well, for you and for me.”
“Where is the Duke
of this Billy Dagote’s Bar for whom I must fight?” Rogan took a deep breath and
sighed, deciding to play along with this stranger until he got a better bearing
of where he was.
“Duke?” Oh, yeah…
I get what you mean.” O’Malley smiled in amusement. “Leave all that to me. If
you’re up to it, I can take you to meet the... er… Duke right away.”
“That would be
splendid.” Rogan grinned, picking his teeth.
“Yeah, wouldn’t
that now.” O’Malley grinned back. “And this bar is Billy Dagote’s… this city,
or town, is called New York.”
“New York?” Rogan
looked bemused. “I have been to York, but this is nothing like it. It looks old
and desolate. Nothing about this place in new.”
“Haven’t been
around much have you.”O’Malley laughed. “But leave that to old Rip the Gyp here
and soon you’ll be a king of New York.”
“A king?” Rogan
smiled to himself. “Why not, I am already a knight, am I not?”
~ ~ ~