“You know, I told Kaspar I thought there was something odd about you when I examined you on the night you took oath. It wasn’t that you revealed duplicity, but rather that you were…without any sort of doubt. I suspected you had been trained somehow, but had you been a magic-user, you would not have lived more than a minute once you were inside this room.” He gestured. “I’ve placed wards everywhere.” He sighed, as if over-tasked. “I have enemies, you know.” He waved his hand at a far wall and it shimmered, then faded away. It had been an illusion, and Tal saw that the room was a full ten feet longer than he had thought. A figure hung from chains on the far wall, naked and bloody. Tal knew instantly who it was: Alysandra. He couldn’t tell if she was alive or not, and it took all of his concentration to ready himself for one last attempt to defend himself. Varen said, “Our lovely Lady Rowena tried to kill me.” His voice rose to a near shriek. “She tried to kill me!”
He turned his back on Tal and hurried to where the limp form hung. “She thought to seduce me!” He laughed, then turned to face Tal and spoke quickly. “Look, I enjoy a tumble as much as the next man, but there are times when such things are merely a distraction. Besides, the energies are all wrong for what I’m doing these days. It’s terribly life-affirming and generative and all that, but right now, my efforts are entirely concentrated in the opposite direction, if you take my meaning. So, rather than some fun between the sheets—and a dagger in my back—I thought she could contribute to my work in a good way—or bad, from her point of view.” He laughed, and Tal knew that by any measure the man was completely mad.
Varen reached up and gripped her chin. “A little life left in there yet, isn’t there, my dear?” He regarded her intently. “Slow death is the best death…for me. Right now, I imagine it’s pretty miserable being you.” He laughed and let her chin drop. Then he started walking back toward Tal. “It wouldn’t surprise me to discover you both work for an old enemy of mine. Sad to say, I haven’t time to put you on the wall and find out. But even if you don’t, you’ve been a serious nuisance, Talwin. Bringing an army, sacking the city, all that noise.” His eyes widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. “I do enjoy the screaming and the blood, though. That’s a nice touch.” He reached Tal and knelt beside him. “Now, it’s been lovely seeing you again, but I must put an end to our time together. I fear Kaspar is about to lose his city, and that being the case, I must depart for a new home.” He smiled. “Goodbye.” Then he reached out with his dagger, as Tal had expected, and started to slice down on Tal’s exposed neck. Tal used every ounce of strength he possessed to slash upward with the dagger he had pulled from his belt, and block Leso’s move. Varen was a powerful magician, but in the use of a blade he might as well have been a baby compared to Tal. Varen’s blade flew from his hand and went clattering across the floor.
Tal then slashed out again, only to find his blade deflected from Varen’s skin by some sort of arcane armor. But the blow caused the magician to fall backward, landing hard on his rump, and suddenly the pain wracking Tal’s body ceased.
Taking a deep breath, Tal rose to his feet. “So, steel can’t touch you?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Varen, his eyes narrowing. He scrambled to his feet. “You know, this is no longer amusing. Please die now!”
He put out his hand and Tal could feel energies building. Only once or twice had he witnessed Pug or Magnus gathering power, and the results were usually spectacular. Tal had no doubt that if he let the mage finish his incantation, he would not enjoy the results.
In the remaining seconds he had, he knew his sword would be as useless as his dagger. He felt a lump in his tunic and snatched out the hard ball Nakor had given him. In a desperate move to interrupt the magician’s concentration, he drew his arm back and threw the ball as hard as he could.
The ball passed through whatever energy-armor Varen possessed and struck him hard in the throat. The incantation was disrupted, and Tal felt the power in the room fade.
The magician’s eyes went round as he grabbed his throat. He fought for air, but Tal could see he couldn’t breathe. He took two steps toward the mage, and Varen fell to his knees, his face turning red and the veins on his head starting to stand out.
A voice from behind said, “I think you crushed his windpipe.”
Tal looked and saw one of the soldiers rising to his feet. Tal pointed at a large clay object next to the door, hexagonal in shape and covered in mystic writings. “See that,” he said. “Break it. Look around these rooms and you’ll find more. Break them all.”
Tal walked over to the quivering magician and looked down at him. “Hell of a way to die, isn’t it?” he said. Then he knelt, pulled Varen upright, moved behind him, and put his arms on either side of his head. With one quick jerk, he broke the dark mage’s neck. Leso Varen’s body crumpled to the floor.
Then Tal rose and went over to the unconscious figure on the wall. He unfastened the shackles and took Alysandra down gently. He looked at the face of the woman he had once thought he loved. Stunning beauty was now terribly scarred, for Varen’s use of the dagger had not been kind. Tal took his cloak off and wrapped it around her. Calling to one of the soldiers nearby, he said, “Take her to the rear and see if the chirurgeon can save her.” The soldier cradled the girl in his arms and carried her out of the door.