I crawled through the hole first, making sure the way was clear before Attar joined me. I’d dug us into a hallway capped on one end by a stone wall and the other by a simple wooden door.

  Magic Swords III

  I carefully backed back down the hole and into the room where Attar was waiting.

  “Tear down that door on the right please,” I called back through the hole.

  The swords complied.

  Screams of surprise followed and then hastily shouted orders.

  “Who goes there? Show yourselves, in the name of the emperor!” demanded a voice from the room I’d just breached. She was far enough away that the echoes dimmed her words, making them hard to hear above the moans and screeching.

  Right. I had encountered a second group of the emperor’s knights at some point hadn’t I?

  “I am Oswic, Magi of the Sacred Order, Wise Man of Blackbridge, The Starcaller of Dawn, Master of Twilight, Voice of the Storm, Speaker on the Wind, Five Time Hoopstone Champion of Ravenhold, and Darkswallower of Bleak Fort. I am accompanied by Attar of the Bronze Coast, a necromancer of exceptional talent and kindness. We were both captured by the warlocks, so you’ll pardon my caution.”

  “We have no quarrel with you Magi, nor however, can we allow you to pass. Your kind are too dangerous. Leave the way you came lest we be forced to defend ourselves.”

  I crawled back through the hole to reveal myself and to get a look at those arrayed against us. It was a risk, but one I was willing to take for information and the chance at a bargain.

  I left the hole unmolested. Nine women were arrayed in front of me, three of them without armour.

  Magicians.

  It was coming back to me. An encounter which would have been extraordinary in any other place had faded against the backdrop of chaos in a mere two months. Such was the madness of the Bleak Fort.

  Their leader was a knight, a tiny woman wrapped in a sphere of metal, or so it appeared given her short stature. Had I not just two hours before been in the company of the Painted Lands princess, I’d have thought the little knight the cutest woman I’d ever seen.

  All nine gasped at seeing me. I suppose I was quite the sight. The radiance of the sun shining from a set of empty robes.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “What are you?” asked their leader. Her tone was hushed, closer to reverence than fear.

  “Human,” I said simply. Then I caught myself. Was I? I’d been possessed by a number of gods and goddesses, made bargains with the fae and death itself, and been warped countless times by dark magic.

  “Or thereabouts,” I amended for the sake of honesty.

  The woman shook her head, “I name you Magec, the Mother of Light. Whoever you once were, you are no longer. That is clear. Begone from this place.”

  Magec was a trickster god of the Vineyards who often travelled in disguise. Vineyard people believed they could gain control over their gods by naming them. I would have to disabuse her of the notion.

  “I need to pass you by. I shall not be dissuaded.”

  The knight of the emperor frowned, “I always thought it strange that a god could be swayed by a mortal. The myths are false.”

  “I am not your god.”

  “Perhaps not. Why then, do you look like her?”

  “Have you seen your god before?”

  “Yes.”

  She uttered it with such conviction I was brought up short.

  “I’m but a Magus who has been met with misfortune many a time, and fought against the warlocks until their magics warped me into the form you see now. I was cursed by the dark altar and fought back against the Mushroom King. I am a but a man with the voice of a goddess and the light of a god...” I trailed off. I wasn’t helping my case.

  She raised her sword, “A god would be able to defend themselves.”

  “Disarm them,” I muttered.

  Six swords clattered to the ground in short order.

  I raised my voice, “So would one of the Magi.”

  The knight looked at her hand, then back at me. I hadn’t moved. She patted the air and the woman about her relaxed, followed by myself.

  “I know not if my magicians could stop you. If you must pass, you will pass, but we will offer no aid to your passage.”

  The knights retrieved their weapons while Attar and I stepped forward, path secured. Which is when one of the other knights took hold of her senses.

  “That’s a magician’s robes she wears.”

  Six swords and three mages turned on us once more.

  The goddess within me, the black one, sent my heart pumping in delight. Death was imminent.

  “Please,” I said, “She lives still, as a sign of my mercy. I don’t wish to visit the same upon you.”

  “Often the lonely was spared from the sword. And thus she must sorrow, the grace of her Lord,” the knight sheathed her sword as though the couplet settled it. The rest followed.

  “You may pass, Mother of Light.”

  I suppressed a sigh. Add it to the pile. It couldn’t get worse than ‘Darkswallower.’