Michael Manning - The Archmage unbound

Then the bedroom door flew open and Miriam entered the fray. The older woman had been searching the bedroom for weapons and not finding any had finally settle upon the only workable item in the room, a slender wooden chair that had been used with the writing desk. Swinging the chair wildly at Ruth’s back she charged. “Get your hands off my daughter!” Unfortunately her approach was far from stealthy.

The pressure on Penny’s throat abruptly vanished as Ruth released her and leapt aside. Miriam struggled to stop her swing before she hit Penny but only partially succeeded and Penny felt fresh pain as the heavy wood struck her legs. Ruth was smiling now, with a new blade in hand as she approached Miriam, like a cat that has found a new mouse to play with. “I don’t really have to keep both of you alive.”

Penny felt fresh horror sweep over her as Ruth prepared to attack Miriam. No! This isn’t what’s supposed to happen! She thought to herself while her body stubbornly refused to listen to her commands. She couldn’t get up, and there was no way she could reach Miriam in time to save her.

Dorian was troubled by a nagging doubt as he walked. Something about the guard that had come to summon him bothered him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He was halfway to the duke’s family suites before it came to him.

He hadn’t recognized the guard… at all. Having been raised in Lancaster, as well as trained there amongst its guards, he should have known him. At the very least the man’s face should have been familiar. There was always the possibility that he was new to the duke’s service, but unlike Washbrook, Lancaster hadn’t had a large influx of new settlers, so the chances of that were small.

I’d better go back, he thought, and turning he began to walk back the way he had come. The further he went the more urgent it felt and before he had gone twenty feet he was running. Keep your visor down, she had said. Damnitt Penny! You knew! A minute later and he was rounding the corner of the hallway their room was on, and as soon as he saw the men in the hallway his fears were confirmed. There was no reason for four strange guards to be standing outside her room.

Despite his conversation with Mordecai previously Dorian still didn’t have an enchanted great sword yet, and for once he was glad of it, the hallway would have been an awkward place to use such a large weapon. Roaring he drew his long sword and dagger, charging down the corridor at the men he knew must be there for the women he was sworn to protect.

The guards started at his appearance and drew their weapons. They bore only swords and truncheons, but many of them wished for a shield when they saw Dorian bearing down upon them. Raising their weapons they prepared to face him.

They might as well have laid down their arms, for all the good their weapons did them. Dorian ignored their attacks completely, trusting to his armor to protect him. Instead he focused his attention on his own weapons and within a span of seconds four of his opponents were down, dead or mortally wounded. Two others had entered Penny’s room, bolting the door behind them. Apparently they weren’t ready to be part of the massacre.

He reached the door in a panic, knowing Penny and Miriam were inside, presumably unguarded now. Naturally the door resisted his first attempt to open it. In frustration he struck the heavy oak with his gauntleted fist, sending splinters and shards of wood flying. The door shook in its frame as if a battering ram had been used upon it. Dorian stepped back and threw himself, shoulder first against the wooden barrier. Impossibly some of the wooden timbers snapped and the door nearly collapsed in on itself. A blade shot forth through one of the gaps, attempting to wound him, but it skittered harmlessly from his breastplate.

Raising his sword he began chopping away the remaining wood, the enchanted steel cutting through the damaged wood as easily as a knife through bread, within seconds he would be inside. He was so focused on getting to Penny and Miriam that he failed to notice the balding man fading into view ten feet down the hallway, nor did he pay any heed when the man began speaking in a foreign tongue.

Through the gaps in the wood Dorian could see dead bodies scattered across the floor. Blood was everywhere and Penny was being carefully bound by a woman with dark hair. He thought he could see a glimpse of Miriam on the floor to one side, lying utterly still. The two men inside were busy piling furniture against the rapidly disintegrating door.

Still unnoticed the man in the hallway gave Dorian a strange stare, for his words had had no noticeable effect upon him. Biting his lip he tried something different and lightning streaked across the distance between him and the armored warrior.

Dorian’s body convulsed momentarily as electricity coursed over his armor. Despite being encased in metal armor he still lived, for Mordecai’s enchantments somehow absorbed much of the strike. Still twitching he looked over his shoulder, spotting the man who had tried to kill him. Not daring to waste time he threw his dagger at the stranger, hoping to distract the man while he finished cutting his way through the door.

Oddly enough the balding man never wavered or ducked and he seemed strangely surprised when the blade lodged solidly in his shoulder. Letting out a cry of pain and frustration he fell backward, clutching at the wound. Dorian continued tearing a path through the ruined furniture and debris that still blocked his path. The woman had finished binding Penny and stood behind the two male warriors, berating them in their attempts to keep him out of the room.

Not satisfied with how the situation was resolving she searched about for a moment before finding a heavy table leg and… as Dorian finally forced his way in, she struck. Her blow was not the more usual swing, but rather a thrust, as one might use a spear. Normally such a strike would carry enormous force, having the weight of the wielder’s body behind a small point of impact. She struck so rapidly and with such force that Dorian was unable to duck, being still entangled in broken furniture, and the end of the table leg slammed into the face of his helm.

The blow would have killed him outright if he had not had his visor down. Even protected as he was it still sent him stumbling to fall backward over the broken wood behind him. The two fighters with the woman wasted no time, and following her directions they each lifted one of their captives and bore them quickly from the room.

Dorian struggled to rise but Ruth gave him no room, she had leapt through the doorway and now circled him, using the table leg as a cudgel. She struck madly, at his legs, arms, and head, making sure he was unable to regain his balance. She was grinning and sweating as she attacked him but even in her frenzy she was looking for vulnerabilities. Her blows seemed to have little effect on the massive warrior, besides keeping him from regaining his feet. His armor showed no signs of denting, or even being scratched.

“Walter!” she yelled. “Isn’t there something you can do about this metal beast?” That was when she spotted the wizard, wounded and struggling to rise on the other side of the hall. The sight distracted her and Dorian’s mailed fist caught the table leg on its next swing. She struggled to pull it from his grasp for he seemed to be impossibly strong.

With a yank Dorian pulled himself upright and drew Ruth into his reach. Moving with a speed she hadn’t suspected he caught her throat in his left hand and drew her face close to his helm as he stood. Rising up like a shining colossus Dorian held her in the air while she kicked desperately at him. She could see his face through the numerous slits in his visor and the look in his eyes sent a shock of adrenaline through her body.