The King, page 25
part #4 of The Jester King Series
Drif and Werian broke out of the shadows and landed on the floor in front of the dais, with the troghoul on top. Drif’s sword jumped from her hand and slid to a stop out of her reach. The beast grabbed hold of her shoulders with its huge hands and slammed her back and head against the stones. It repeated this battering until she looked like a rag doll.
Ergyfel spun a silver pitcher in the air between his hands at incredible speed. The Magister’s sword was stuck in the floor of the dais by his feet. Billy charged the dais, hoping to get past the distracted troghoul and introduce Lura Zahn to his foe. As he reached the halfway mark, a blinding light flashed, and Billy beheld Ergyfel levitating a bright, fiery, roiling glob of molten metal.
The king thrust out his hand, pointing at Billy, and the blazing silver bubble shot across the room. There was no cover, so an instant before the missile hit, Billy raised the buckler and hid his face in his shoulder.
The impact spun him around and sent him sprawling across the floor. Instantly, he felt burning on his left arm and rolled to a sitting position. Most of the molten projectile had stuck to the buckler and turned it into a spurting, fuming bowl of silver and bronze. The liquid metal that splashed on Billy’s arm skipped off him, but the heat coming from the buckler was intensifying. The silver was melting its way through.
The entire buckler now felt too hot to touch. Billy reached for the band that held it to his arm and it burned his fingers. If not for his tunic, the heat would blister his flesh. The back of the little shield glowed brighter. Any moment, the molten metal would tunnel its way through the bronze and onto his arm. The band burned through to his skin, and the pain multiplied.
This is the moment of truth. Either I’m a wizard, or I’m not! He focused as best he could against the pain, throwing up every trick his mind could fathom. It’s cold. That’s all. It’s very cold! Nothing worked.
Billy closed his eyes and stopped fighting the pain. He allowed himself to feel all the pain had to offer, and then he let it roll over and out of him. He imagined the pain to be smoke carried on a breeze and himself an open window. The pain passed through him but did not affect him. At that moment, he escaped its tyranny.
He flicked the band on his arm with a finger. “Brehegan!”
The band holding the buckler to his arm cracked, and it fell to the floor. Billy took a deep breath and placed his hand over the wounded arm. His mother’s ring sparkled, and he felt its healing touch.
Werian’s claws were now on Deordrif’s wrists. He straddled her and threw his weight forward to pin her in place. He lowered his snout to her chest and sniffed and licked and slobbered his way to her face. She opened her eyes, and he bared his teeth in a bizarre and contemptuous smile. He tilted his head and wriggled his crude tongue across her cheek, and she turned away.
Billy turned when he heard the misshapen creature laugh. The sound gripped his heart. He wondered what wickedness could twist such a lovely sound as laughter into such haunting and offensive scrapes.
“Stop playing with your food and come help me!” Ergyfel shouted.
Werian growled at his master, then turned his angry countenance to Deordrif. Bit by bit, he stretched open his jaws to bite her face.
Drif brought her knee up into the troghoul’s tender parts. His eyes popped open, and his lips drew together like a drawstring bag. She kneed him again, and a thin whine escaped his shrunken mouth. A moment later, Drif used both legs and launched him over her head.
Before the monster came to grips with where he was, Deordrif spun off the floor, grabbed her sword, and kicked him in the face. Werian’s head smacked against the dais and snapped back around. He roared and lunged to bite her leg, but the elf deftly leapt aside and took his head with her sword.
Drif turned to scan around her. The sorcerer-king glared at Billy. He had conjured another handful of lightning and looked ready to unleash it.
She drew her knife and spun it in her palm to hold the thin blade in her fingers, then drew back her arm and targeted Ergyfel’s throat. She breathed in to steady her throw and glanced back at Billy. Though he was moving, he was at the mercy of his enemy.
Drif returned her focus to Ergyfel and held her throw. Tiny tendrils of lightning escaped from the dazzling sphere between Ergyfel’s hands, striking the dais and his sword. He was losing control, but still he nurtured it. A tendril suddenly arced to his face and shoulder. He cried out and turned his face away, stretching out his hands to release the lightning.
Drif closed her eyes, said, “Curse you, Malkry!” and hurled her knife. The blade sliced through the air and sank into the heart of the king’s throne.
Ergyfel released the formidable bolt, and Billy darted for the columns to his left, but the lightning twisted on its course as if drawn to Billy. At that moment, Billy’s feet slipped on a patch of candle wax, and he slammed into the floor.
The lightning collided with the column behind him in a deafening crack and split the colossal timber like an axe to firewood. From six feet high to the soaring ceiling, half of the giant oak pillar sheered away and launched a shower of splinters into the air. This massive chunk of lumber then plunged to the floor. Billy covered his head and held his breath. The enormous sliver broke through the stone floor and splintered, pinning Billy to the base of the column.
He pulled a large splinter from his forearm with a yelp, then tried to free himself from the broken column, but he was trapped. When he peeked around the fractured wood, he saw Ergyfel howling and clutching the remnants of the lightning ball. Billy locked eyes with Deordrif, whose back was to their enemy.
“Get out of here, Drif! It’s up to you now!
Drif took a step towards Billy. “I’m coming!”
“No! Leave me!”
“I’ll get you out!”
“No! You’re Tirn Aill’s last hope!”
Deordrif’s expression became resolute. She turned towards the dais, where Ergyfel had restored his lightning ball to its prior size. Without hesitation, she charged up the steps.
Ergyfel sneered at Billy. “Now, you will die!”
The king thrust out his hands to direct all the lightning he could muster at Billy, but at that moment, Deordrif dove in front of him and stole the lightning from his hands with her armor-encased body. Drif screamed and collapsed to the dais in a heap.
“No!” Billy cried.
Ergyfel fell to his knees, panting, shaking, and clutching his midsection. He rocked back and forth several times before sitting up. He examined the smoking body of the elf warrior lying on the corner of his dais to his right, and then he looked at Billy. He rose to his feet with the help of his sword and kicked the elf, but she did not stir.
Ergyfel pried his sword from the wooden platform. “So. … Once again, it’s a fair fight.”
Billy placed his hands on the rough oak spar pinning him in place and pushed. He focused on his mother’s ring and tried again. The enormous piece of lumber creaked.
Ergyfel observed Billy’s efforts. “Oh, please. You’re wasting your time and insulting the power of that ring with parlor tricks.”
The sorcerer-king rested his sword on his shoulder and descended the steps of the dais. He whistled the first notes of a tune, but stopped when he reached the bottom step. As he sauntered across the floor of the great hall, he spoke to Billy, who was busy trying to push and wriggle his way free.
“You accused me of killing your mother for that ring, but allow me to set the record straight. I killed her because she stood in my way to the throne; the same reason I killed my dear cousins, Kathryn and William. The ring was only ever a bonus, or should have been.”
Billy focused on his mother’s ring and the pillar trapping him, desperately searching for anything he could use to escape. The wood under his hands felt polished and lifeless.
Ergyfel stopped a few steps from him to lean on his sword. He took a few deep breaths before continuing. “Now, with you. ...When I take your miserable little life, the ring will be a bonus again.”
Billy felt a tingle from his mother’s ring as it touched something within the broken hunk of column. A tiny spark of life. Dim and dormant. In his mind, Billy saw trees in winter, their limbs stripped bare, and their sap all but stopped. They seemed dead, and yet—come spring—they would be reborn. They would blossom and grow with new life; more life than they had before.
“You need it,” Billy said, attempting to stall his nemesis. “You need it if you ever hope to reverse the curse.”
“Well, honestly—” Ergyfel stopped to examine his transformed hand. “I will admit, I do need it more than I did before, but I’d still kill you whether you had the ring or not.”
Billy remembered the trees he had climbed as a child in the Valley of the Yew, and the trees in Tirn Aill, which had told him of the ancient trees in the lands of men that loved the faeries as their children, and longed for their return.
Ergyfel continued. “You see, I don’t like you. Even if I did, you still present a threat to my continued rule. I can’t have that.”
Billy reached out his mind to contact the spark of life within the wood. It was so tiny, so fragile. He touched it, and the spark transformed, losing some of its intensity, but expanding into an ember. He imagined cupping it in his hands, encouraging it to grow with a gentle breath.
Ergyfel stood over Billy and looked down at him. He eyed Billy’s fingers. “I think ... I think I’ll just chop it from your hand. Then you can watch as I show you its real power!”
“Help! Somebody help me!” At that moment, Billy felt the life within the shattered column awake.
Ergyfel chuckled and looked around the hall. “It’s just you and me. No one is coming to save you this time.” He raised his sword to strike.
Billy focused every ounce of energy he could muster on the life within the column, allowing the ring to magnify it. “Remember where you come from.”
Ergyfel stopped. “What?”
“Your children have returned.”
“You are nothing with that ring, … but I will be unstoppable.”
Ergyfel drew back his sword and took aim.
The stone floor exploded beneath Ergyfel’s feet as thick roots shot forth from the broken pillar. This threw him to the side, and his sword struck the living wood. Limbs and all manner of branches sprouted along the length of the column, transforming it into a kind of tree. The branches and roots grew, pushing and pulling the trunk upright enough for Billy to squirm his way out.
Ergyfel’s sword was stuck in the side of the new tree. He tugged on it, but it would not budge. Before his eyes, the tree grew bark, which threatened to lock his sword in place forever. He put his foot against the trunk and heaved with all his might. The sword popped loose, but his foot was stuck—surrounded by the quickly hardening bark.
Billy jumped to his feet, saw Ergyfel’s predicament, and charged him. He swung Lura Zahn, but Ergyfel blocked the attack with his sword and reposted. Billy ducked and tried again, but the rapidly growing and budding limbs impeded his swings. Ergyfel thrust his sword at Billy’s face through the building bramble of branches. Billy’s blade blocked this and countered with a quick slash. Lura Zahn sliced through Ergyfel’s hood, and it fell back off his head.
Billy froze, shocked by Ergyfel’s countenance. The right side of his face appeared the same as it always had. However, the left side was staggering: jagged irregular fangs protruded through coarse, scabby lips in a menacing lopsided grin; the eye, once black as night, was filmy and deep-set, shadowed by a heavy brow and protruding cheekbone; and coarse hair grew in patches from the pink and grey flesh covering his distorted skull.
Ergyfel yanked his foot free of the bark with a grunt and tore his robe further on the rough, clingy branches, which now had leaves. He spun out of his shredded robe and chopped his way through the new growth towards Billy.
The fantastic growth of the tree trapped Billy too. He pushed and ducked his way out of the jumble and into the open hall. Then he was face to face with Ergyfel. He turned to run, and Ergyfel struck with his sword. The blade cut Billy’s shoulder, but he managed to roll away.
He rolled to his feet, grabbing his shoulder, then turned around. Ergyfel was almost upon him. Billy struck the floor with the pommel of his sword. “Deru!”
Ergyfel’s sword arm stopped in mid swing. He tried to complete the swing but found his arm caught in a web of vine-like branches. A moment later, they pulled his arm back and the branches encircled his body and legs. The branches grew thicker, and then whisked Ergyfel off the floor and into the air.
Billy watched in amazement as more and more branches surrounded Ergyfel and bound him in place. At that moment, he realized that some of the branches were not coming from the broken column, but from the adjacent columns. He looked up and saw that both parts of the broken column had transformed into a tree and that the growth was spreading across the ceiling to the other great columns. He returned his eye to Ergyfel, who struggled against his leafy captor, to cast a spell.
Billy said, “Gweyesan,” and the limbs, vines, and branches tightened around their prey. “Gweyesan!”
Ergyfel let out a gasp. The foliage continued to squeeze him tighter. There was a snap, and he cried out in pain. He tried desperately to free his sword and cut his way from the trees, but they held him fast.
A cracking sounded from above, and large hunks of wood and plaster came crashing to the floor. Billy looked up, and a raindrop struck his face. The growth of the trees had opened a hole in the roof. Lightning flashed in the sky, and Billy jumped back.
Ergyfel pulled the vines from his mouth and shouted, “Vipera forma!”
The Magister grew thin, and his skin became dark and scaled. Within a few heartbeats, he and his sword had transformed into a giant black viper with silvery fangs. He slithered down the tree—his wet, slippery body undeterred by the entangling branches. Once on the floor, he raced straight for Billy with startling speed.
Billy retreated, but the snake caught up to him. It rose up in front of his path, hissing and flaring its hood, and forced him back to the center of the hall. He jabbed at the viper with Lura Zahn, but it was far too quick. Before he could react, the snake threw one of its coils behind Billy and tripped him. It raced forward to strike at his face, and he threw up his elbow. The viper struck his arm and retreated into the shadows behind the new trees.
His arm burned hot and cold. His skin felt like flame, his bones ice. He sat up and examined the damage. Two red, swollen punctures marked his forearm. A milky substance dripped from the wound, and around it, his skin grew taut and turned black. Despite his gripping the arm at the elbow, the pain continued to inch towards Billy’s shoulder.
A terrible cry rang out. Billy looked up, expecting to face the snake again, and found Ergyfel on his knees. He held his head and side and writhed in agony. His fingers tore at the blistered skin on his torso and neck and revealed that the troghoul curse had claimed these parts of his body. His lower jaw on both sides was now heavier and jutted out beyond his upper lip to give him an exaggerated under bite.
The tremendous pain in Billy’s arm brought him back to his own predicament. The bitten arm was now paralyzed, and the burning spread into his chest and neck. He grew weaker, and his legs shook and tingled as they went numb. He fell back onto the cold stone floor. His heart slowed and grew cold. Billy’s mind raced. He only had seconds to act. His sight darkened. A spell he had read in the Witan’s tree came to his lips. The instant he finished it, the pain retreated. He whispered the spell again, and his heartbeat became normal. One more repetition and he could move his arms and legs.
Billy sighed and opened his eyes. The pain receded, leaving behind tired, sore muscles. He heard muttering and sat up to look for Ergyfel.
The misshapen usurper was standing now and making strange signs with his hands. The same signs over and over. Billy recognized them as a magical gesticulation and got to his feet. Ergyfel raised his voice, and his repetitious muttering became a chant. He looked crazed. At that moment, Billy realized that his enemy was attempting to cast a spell and failing. With each attempt, he grew more turbulent, and then he stopped.
He turned and chopped on the tree closest to him with his sword. After a few frenzied swings, he halted and glared at Billy.
“Curse you, faerie!” he said, with some difficulty.
Billy raised Lura Zahn with a flourish and advanced on his foe. Ergyfel countered his movement by circling towards the dais. As he reached the steps, Billy rushed forward and struck at him. Ergyfel blocked and reposted. Back and forth, the rivals traded strikes and parries as they ascended to the top of the dais. Ergyfel was on the retreat, and still Billy marveled at how well he handled a sword.
Billy was tiring and decided to let Lura Zahn take control of the fight. The sword immediately dished out a flurry of blows that forced Ergyfel to a strictly defensive stance. At last, Ergyfel dodged under an attack and ran behind his throne.
“Who taught you to fight, boy?” His troghoul tongue caused him trouble with speech.
“I might ask you the same.” Billy approached the throne. “I didn’t think you would dirty your hands with a blade.”
“My brother taught me to deal with rodents ... like you.”
He struck between the two thrones with his long sword. Billy managed to block, but then circled around the thrones. Ergyfel countered to keep the thrones between them. They circled once and stopped, with Billy once again in front and Ergyfel behind.
Ergyfel moved left and right, first behind the queen’s throne, and then behind his own. He did this several times, and then began to taunt Billy.
When Ergyfel stepped behind the queen’s throne, Billy put his hands together and threw them apart. “Ah-we!” A blast of wind knocked over the queen’s throne and sent it skidding some feet across the dais. Ergyfel jumped behind the king’s throne, which was firmly attached to the floor.
With only one throne standing between them, Billy charged around it. Ergyfel took flight across the platform with Billy close on his heels. As he reached the downed throne, Ergyfel kicked it backward at Billy and tripped him.
