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Alastair Archibald: Dark Priory

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Alastair Archibald Dark Priory

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Guy snorted. “The spirit of cowardice sounds nearer the mark. Perhaps, instead, I should-"

Quelgrum stepped in front of the foppish mage. “Questor Guy, Lord Grimm was man enough to apologise. Are you? You seem to be going out of your way to provoke him."

"I might have known you'd side with him, Technology-lover!” Guy spat. “Take the hand of that misbegotten waif? I'd rather-"

"Oh, Questor Guy,” Drex cried, her eyes moistening. “Can't you make peace with Grimm-please?"

Grimm felt entranced by his beloved's blue eyes; they seemed so large and deep that he felt as if he were about to fall into them. How could any man of flesh and blood remain unmoved by such an entreaty?

It seemed that even the sarcastic, acerbic Guy was mortal at heart. He shrugged and took Grimm's hand in his own, pumping it once before releasing it.

"I suppose I was a little hard on you, Dragonblaster,” the Great Flame muttered. “Let's just get on with the damn Quest, shall we?"

The older Questor had not even used his favourite perversion of Grimm's title: ‘Dragonbluster'. Grimm guessed that was the nearest thing to an apology he was ever likely to hear from Guy.

"Well met, Great Flame,” he said, nodding. “There's a difficult task ahead of us, and I'd far rather we were allies than enemies."

Guy, looking a little dazed, shrugged. “I agree. Let's do it."

Quelgrum nodded. “I'll call the others. We'll be ready to move by morning."

"I don't think we should wait that long, General,” Drex said, biting her lower lip. “Nobody knows I'm gone yet, but they will in a short while, when I'm missed at Evening Devotions. There's no telling what that evil bitch, Lizaveta will do then.

"I don't think I could smuggle all of you into the Priory; a small party would be better. I'll go with Grimm-he's a Questor, after all."

"What's the matter with me?” Guy's voice became a plaintive whine. “I'm the senior Questor here."

"We should stand by, at least, in case of trouble,” Quelgrum declared.

"There are witch guards all around, and they know you're coming,” Drex said. “Believe me, my way is better. A small group can cling to the shadows more easily than a large one. You and the other warriors should get some rest, so you can be ready in the morning."

She locked those lovely, blue eyes on the soldier's, and Grimm suffered a momentary pang of jealousy, which he soon quashed.

"Perhaps you're right, lass,” the General said at last. “It's a reasonable battle plan."

Grimm felt a warm rush of admiration at Drex's calm, intelligent assessment of the situation.

After all she's been through, he thought, I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd been a catatonic wreck, but her mind's still clear.

"Well, if that's settled,” he said, “I'm going with Drex."

"Me, too,” Guy declared. “If you remember, Dragonblaster, I have a score to settle with the old bitch, too. I can take care of myself."

"I can take care of myself, too, Great Flame,” Grimm snapped, determined not to lose any ground to the pompous thaumaturge. He would rather not have Guy around at all, but, in view of his earlier effort at conciliation, he felt he could not easily deny the older mage. “Don't you worry about me; let's go."


****


"Be careful,” Drex muttered, as she and the two mages hugged the lengthening shadows. “Lizaveta's look-outs are all around. They're called the Anointed Score, and they're the most vicious sluts around. It's best to avoid them."

The walls of the Priory loomed overhead, seeming almost to disappear into the inky evening sky. Grimm suppressed a shiver as the distant, eerie bark of a fox slashed through the air.

"Not much further now,” Drex whispered, as the trio rounded the north corner of the towering edifice. “Just keep quiet, and we should be all right."

This Anointed Score can't be that good, Grimm thought. I haven't seen a single one yet. They'd have been better off forming a line in front of the Priory, if they suspected any incursion. This is just too damned" Here we are."

Grimm looked down at a dark, unfathomable, rectangular opening, and he felt a frisson of disquiet. Was he expected to plunge into this murky unknown, with no idea what might lie on the other side?

"I'll go first,” Drex muttered. “Wait until I give you the all-clear."

Before Grimm could protest, his lover flung herself feet-first into the dark chute. Guy stepped forward, but Grimm put an admonitory hand on the older man's chest. “You heard Drex, Guy. We'll wait here."

Grimm could almost hear the upsurge of the other Questor's emotions at this affront, but he hardly cared; all he cared about was that his lover was safe.

"It's all right!"

Hearing Drex's welcome voice from inside the bowels of the Priory, Grimm felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"There's nobody here, Grimm; come on in. The dirt won't hurt you, Guy, I promise."

Even in the dim light, Grimm saw Guy's brows lowering at this slight, and he smiled.

"You aren't scared, are you, Great Flame?"

"Not on your life, Dragonblaster. There's still time for you to back out, you know."

"Not on your life, Brother Mage. I'm going first."

Grimm squatted and launched himself down the chute, clutching Redeemer to his chest. The darkness and the brief sensation of falling awoke a primordial fear in him, and he felt relieved when he came to a sudden halt. He stood and stepped away from the chute, and his eyes could just discern Drex's shadowy figure, black against deeper black.

A faint bump greeted Guy's arrival, and Grimm, his eyes becoming accustomed to the darkness, ran to his lover, embracing her. Drex seemed a little awkward in her response to his enthusiastic embrace, but he guessed she was nervous to be back in the Priory so soon after her escape, so he released her.

"Where do we go from here, Drex?” he whispered. “Just point us in the right direction, and we'll take it from there."

"You don't get away from me that easily, Grimm Afelnor,” she muttered. “There's a reckoning due, and I wouldn't miss it for the world.” There was no mistaking the fervour in her lowered voice.

Speaking a little louder, she said, “Follow me."

"Do you really think this is a good idea, Drex?” Grimm laid a hand on his lover's shoulder.

Drexelica stiffened at his touch, but her voice was soft. “Don't worry about me, Grimm."

With a determined air, she strode to the inner door and opened it just a crack, allowing yellow light to spill into the dark chamber. Putting her face to the narrow opening, she nodded.

"It's all right. Nobody's there. Let's go."

"You're in charge,” Grimm said, and then he frowned.

Drex is no shrinking violet, he thought. I guess that's one of the reasons I fell so in love with her; but she seems so different now, as if she's angry with me.

Oh, well; she has been through a lot…

"Come on, Grimm! Devotions can't be more than ten minutes away now. We've got to move, now!"

Grimm stepped through the narrow opening into a small, well-lit vestibule with stairs at either side. Squinting in the bright illumination, he saw Drexelica standing with her arms crossed over her chest, her lips compressed into a tight line.

Why's Drex so uneasy with me? Does she blame me for taking so long to get here?

"We don't have all day, you know, Grimm! Up here."

She started up the left-hand flight of stairs, and the two mages followed her into one narrow corridor after another. Her movements were confident and decisive; Grimm felt glad she was there to lead them through the confusing labyrinth of passageways.

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