Into the Abyss

However, the casting of such a last minute spell had its price. The charred and cindered body of the young wizard fell lifeless to the ground. A voice screamed in agony, “Rex!” and Alvea came running. The counter spell and its effect had only taken seconds, there had only been a few moments before the fireball reached him; Alvea never saw what had happened, she just knew Rex was dead. She ran mildly across the courtyard from the doorway in which she had stood.

The yard around her was in flames; four other fireballs had gotten in and were not countered. They had ignited flames in several of the temporary wooden structures, and killed several soldiers. Another score were severely burned. Alvea had eyes for none of this; her eyes were fixed on the body of her love. Weeping she threw herself upon his body. She knew nothing of the outside world, only her loss mattered.

Jenn saw the whole thing and was almost in shock. She would have run to Rex also, but men were screaming around her in pain. Quickly she shook her head, and put the agony of her friend’s loss to the back of her mind. She turned and began to help soldiers make their way to prepared cots so that she and the doctors could tend them. A score of soldiers and another six or seven women had been severely burned. About fifteen had died in the fireballs.

The shield had only been in oscillation for about twenty seconds while the demon plunged in, but that had been enough for Exador. The stable was blazing, and grooms were running around trying to get the horses out. A water bin had had its support legs burned out. The water from the bin had doused some of the nearby fire, but a lot of steam had formed, and this added to the burns. Two makeshift barracks were burning as well as a nearby latrine. One of the animal pens had also been hit. Dead and dying animals lay where they’d been roasted alive.

The demon came dashing in, searching madly for Lenamare. Jenn however, was almost beyond caring. She was too busy with the wounded, and still numb from Rex’s death. She didn’t have the time nor patience to be scared of anything right now. She didn’t even pay attention as Lenamare came out of the tower with Jehenna on his arm to confront the gigantic demon who stood glaring all around at the castle.

The demon stood before him, in the middle of the courtyard for all to see, “Your task is complete... master.” The demon glared at him with pent up anger and frustration. Normally Lenamare would have had to force himself to remain calm, staring at this horrible visage gazing so malevolently at him; however, the carnage wreaked on his castle outraged him so much that he didn’t have time to be nervous.

“Obviously... you moronic imbecile of a demon. Look at what you’ve done to my castle! Get out of here! Return to your damnable hell, till I summon you again.” He waved his hands at the demon and it vanished. Quickly he turned to Jehenna. “How did that nephew of a second rate dung splayer outguess me like that? Every damn thing I do, he outmaneuvers me!”

Jehenna herself was none too pleased by the results, and she had no more idea than Lenamare. “He’s got to have some sort of advantage or ally that we don’t know about. The sheer luck of him even realizing what you were doing, let alone figuring out the physical oscillation trick and timing his wizards to get the fireballs off fast enough, it’s impossible.”

“Impossible maybe, but the horse shit eating pile of vomit has done it.” Lenamare began to walk hurriedly to the gatehouse. On his way he almost tripped over Alvea with Rex’s body. “Get that corpse out of here, and tell her to dry it up. We haven’t got time for that kind of nonsense; she’s got work to do.” Jehenna waved impatiently to a nearby serving woman to get Alvea and Rex out of the way. Alvea didn’t even seem to notice the raving Lenamare walking nearby. She simply rocked back and forth with Rex’s blackened head in her lap.

“If he keeps this second guessing up, we might have some trouble,” Jehenna said while climbing the stairs to the gatehouse behind Lenamare.

Lenamare, too caught up in righteous anger, didn’t even seem to hear her. He climbed the stairs oblivious to all but his thoughts. As he reached the top, he turned and shouted as if to the sky, “how dare that bastard fifth son of a boot licking slavemonger attack me so. I, Lenamare, attack me, in my own hold. I swear that riverbank sludge-brained upstart shall know my wrath.”

Chapter 22