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The right of Brett Martin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted. All rights reserved. No part of these documents may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical including photocopying, scanning and recording, for any purpose, without the express written consent of Brett Martin.
All characters in this short story are fictious and any resemblance to real persons, living
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Steel clashed as Traskor locked swords with the gorilla.
With a grunt of exertion he shoved the beast back and they eyed each other. The gorilla had obviously not been expecting a foe of quality, and the first few thrusts and cuts from its blade Traskor had parried easily.
"We have no quarrel with you, ape," Traskor leveled his broadsword. "Now stand aside and let us pass before I choose to make an example of you."
The gorilla only stared, berserker rage beginning to fire in its eyes.
Another gorilla approached.
Amroff doubted either ape would allow them to pass. He also imagined that while
Traskor was a gifted swordsman, even he would be overwhelmed if they chose to fight him as a pair as they often did in mage combat.
"Take the others and flee," Traskor said quietly to Amroff.
The young mage could see Traskor was luring the beasts away from the doorway, leaving a clear avenue for his friends.
It was a noble gesture. Part of the crusader ethos, perhaps. Whatever it was, Amroff didn't want to see his friend killed.
The gorillas began to advance on Traskor.
"Klas," said Amroff. The grizzly looked up. "Help him."
Amroff could have sworn Klas nodded before turning and lumbering towards the gorillas. Once beside Traskor, he reared up on his hind legs and roared at their opponents. It brought a harsh grin to Traskor's features.
Both apes halted. Berserker rage or not, if they charged Death would claim them, be it from the crusader's flashing blade or the grizzly’s jaws crunching bone.
Klas growled, a deeper and more threatening sound.
And so entered the mage, thought Amroff and closed his eyes. There was the usual feeling of vertigo and exaltation. Then he stood within a land of whispering mist seeking mana. He was the singer of an unspoken song. The keeper of forbidden keys.
Some avid part of him wished for the islands, but it was the forests he found.
A green glow washed over his features and he knew the mana was there. Beyond his world of rapture, he could hear gorillas snarl and the cold presence of Death gathering in the tavern. He thought of the woman from the arena. It came to him then with a sudden certainty that she was a follower of the dark, perhaps even one of Lim-Dûl's minions. It left him with a cold sense of purpose.
He cast around with his mind's eye in this forest of Dominia, saw the gnarled facade of trees frowning down at him. This would do. He had other beasts to hunt.
Amroff opened his eyes as the wall of wood materialised with a flash of mana. Dazzling dew-drops of light threaded themselves into being, then the woods were simply there. Branches scraped the roof and he could smell an earthy moisture. The apes blotted out of sight.
There was a moment's silence.
Gorilla fists began to crunch wood and Amroff knew time was short.
"Come on!" he cried to the others, waited for Joseph and Klas to run past him
before dashing for the doorway, Traskor following.
Back in the tavern, the wall exploded, chunks of timber flew out the door.
Amroff was amazed by the sight of it.
"Make haste!" Traskor ordered, grabbing Amroff by the arm and shoving him forward.
Amroff heeded the advice. They ran for what seemed like an hour or three, knocking aside Uond citizens, past swinging pots and the startled cry of stall owners.
Eventually, Traskor called a halt to their flight. "I believe we have lost them," he laughed giving Klas a playful bat on the snout. "That is the first time that I have stood aside a bear in combat and you stood well," He surveyed their surroundings. "Now we must find our way back to our own quarter of town, sire. I trust we have seen the last of the apes for awhile."
"Where's Joseph?" Amroff asked, the old man was nowhere to be seen.
"I had thought him with us," said Traskor. "We should check these streets."
"There is one other thing," Amroff wanted to know. "At the arena I saw a woman there. You knew I'd seen her, didn't you? And you also knew what she believed in."
Traskor didn't see much point in denying it. "The Soldevi adnate, yes."
"So you did know what she was!" Amroff was appalled. "You knew that and you hid the fact!"
"And have you do what?" Traskor challenged. "Start a duel in front of half the populace of Uond? There would be scant gain in such a path."
Amroff paused. "You are right, I am sorry, Trask. It is just that I saw her again before the fight with the gorillas, outside the tavern."
"And you made no mention of this?"
"I didn't get the chance!"
"No matter," Traskor wasn't impressed. "We will resolve this issue at a more convenient time, sire. For now we should seek Joseph. He can not be far from hand since I saw him but only a moment ago."
Klas gave a whuff of recognition. Sure enough, there was Joseph. The old leatherworker was standing perhaps thirty feet away, but it could have been thirty leagues for all the surging bustle of the people between them. He looked twice his age and Amroff realised such a dash must have placed great strain on a man of his age no matter his strength.
"Over here, man," Traskor shouted clearly.
Joseph looked around puzzled, unable to locate the voice. Traskor turned the volume up a notch while Amroff waved and joined in. At last Joseph saw them and nodded, a palpable sense of relief creasing his features.
Yet he was not alone, for behind him stood the Soldevi adnate. Face in shadow, only a savage grin visible, the deadly flash of silver in her hand.
"JOSEPH!!!" Amroff screamed.