T. Lain - The Death Ray

He likes it, she thought. He's settling into this new life of his, and he loves every minute of it. Maybe Maelani was Naull shook her head, dislodging the thought, and tried to concentrate on the task ahead.

As they approached the river wall, Naull noticed some of the men making signs and gestures surely meant to ward off evil spirits. All of them eyed the building at the top of the river wall with apprehension if not terror.

It was a huge manor house of sprawling wings, high turrets, and wide verandas. Whoever lived there must have been the envy of any of the duchy's wealthiest families.

"Haunted," Lorec whispered in her ear, startling her. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I saw you looking at the mansion."

"It's beautiful," Naull said.

"It is," replied Lorec, "and people pay a pretty penny to stay there. It's sort of a high-class boarding house. Personally, I wouldn't spend a night there if my life de-"

He stopped when the boat nudged up against the river wall. Regdar reached up and grabbed a rusted iron rung, and Jandik handed him a rope. As Regdar tied the boat to the ladder, Naull looked up at the circle of blackness that marked the entrance to the sewers.

"Look alive, men," Lorec called to his watchmen, who were already stowing their oars.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Naull shivered again. She had to bite her tongue not to call out to Regdar to stop. He was already scaling the ladder to the sewer entrance with his mighty greatsword swinging from his back. Naull had a very, very bad feeling about that sewer.

Regdar peeked into the sewer from the bottom edge of the opening while trying not to look like he was peeking. It seemed to Regdar that a Lord Constable shouldn't peek, but stride confidently into any situation. Regdar was too smart for that.

There was nothing in the immediate vicinity of the entrance, so ^J he drew himself up the rest of the way and stopped when his knee rested on the edge of the opening. He tried to listen but all he could hear was echoes from the boat tapping the river wall and the boatload of watchmen gathering their gear.

Regdar looked back over his shoulder and caught Lorec's eye.

"It's narrow," the lord constable said, "so we'll have to walk single-file. I want Jandik in front-" the tracker nodded-"then myself. Naull, you stick behind me and be ready with those spells. Behind Naull I want Samoth with sword and lantern, then Lorec, then Lem and Asil, all three with bows. Drahir, you have the rear with lantern and sword."

Each of the men nodded in turn, and Regdar leaned to the side to allow Jandik to scramble up into the sewer entrance past him. He drew his greatsword and followed the tracker into the sewer, clearing the entrance for the others.

Regdar had taken the time to learn the names and even some of the strengths and weaknesses of the men Lorec had gathered. They seemed fit enough, but only time would tell. Regdar had been in enough battles with soldiers both green and veteran to know that each man would perform in his own way. Some would never be meant for combat while others would take to it like he had. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out for sure.

He helped Naull up into the sewer and said, "Are you all right?"

The question offended her but Regdar didn't care. She seemed worried.

"I'm fine," she said, "but I'm not sure why we're going this way. If we know the trail leads to an abandoned slaughterhouse, why not just go there? Why creep around in darkness and filth?"

Regdar waved her deeper into the sewer to allow watchman Samoth to get in after her.

"I did send a contingent to the slaughterhouse," he said. "They're likely there already. This is the way the creature, or whatever it is, moves. It may not be in the slaughterhouse itself, and if it's chased out by the men on the ground, it'll likely run this way-into us."

He could see her swallow hard.

"That doesn't make me feel any better," she said.

They kept moving deeper into the stinking, black tunnel as the rest of their party climbed in and lanterns were lit.

"Don't tell me you aren't itching for revenge," Regdar prodded. "If somebody flipped a bed on top of me they'd better paralyze me or something, or I'll-"

"Here," Jandik interrupted, raising his lantern.

Regdar looked up and saw deep furrows scratched into the top of the cylindrical tunnel-the murderer's trail.

"Well done," Regdar said to the tracker. "Lead on."

Considering the many setbacks of the previous night, his lack of sleep, and a dreary turn in the weather, Vargussel felt sure he radiated an aura of confidence as he strode into the duke's private office for the second time in as many days. Even after making arrangements to secure the slaughterhouse, he had at least had the opportunity to go home, clean himself up a bit, and change before he received the duke's summons. A trail of cologne wafted behind him, and his clean, crisp robe rustled as he walked.

Vargussel bowed deeply to the duke and said, "Your Highness, I attend you at your request."

The duke, who was seated behind his desk, motioned to a chair and watched with an appraising eye as Vargussel sat.

"You're well?" the duke asked.

Vargussel sighed inwardly, finding no patience left for the duke's imbecilic questions.

"I am most fit, Your Highness," he answered. "Again, I find myself deep in study and experimentation. I understand that His Highness is a busy man as well, so please do not allow a few scrapes and bumps to distract you from the matter at hand, a matter I am sure is one of utmost urgency and with dire consequences for us all."

The duke smiled, and Vargussel returned the expression. His groveling before his master's image had left Vargussel with the odd scrape, cut, and bruise, but what little pain there had been had turned to an irritating itch. That didn't do much for Vargussel's patience.

Vargussel again suppressed a sigh-this time of relief-when the duke reached into a drawer and didn't ask after his health again.

"Lord Constable Regdar has found something," the duke said.

Vargussel tipped an eyebrow up, not having to feign interest in the progress of the new lord constable.

The duke set something hard and heavy down on the desk in front of Vargussel. When his hand came away from it, Vargussel let slip a slight gasp at the sight of a jagged chunk of his shield guardian's armor.

"Did he see what this came from?" Vargussel asked.

"You recognize it?"

Vargussel stopped himself before he answered. Instead, he shook his head and reached for the piece of metal.

"May I?" the wizard asked.

The duke nodded and said, "Be my guest."

The piece of armor wasn't big and hadn't obviously effected the shield guardian's functioning, but a piece of the construct in the duke's possession could be troublesome for Vargussel. If the duke summoned a wizard to "You want me to tell you what it is," Vargussel said, holding back a relieved giggle.

"I do," the duke replied. "The lord constable didn't get a clear look at the thing but he managed to slice a chunk out of it. Looks like armorer's steel to me, but we need to know more. I'm told there's a spell…?"

"Legend lore," the wizard said.

"That's the one," replied the duke. "Can you do it?"

"Indeed I can, Your Highness. Indeed I can."

"The duchy will, of course, reimburse you for your trouble," the duke said.

Vargussel smiled and let the piece of his own construct roll around in his palm.

"Please, Your Highness," he said. "I am a loyal subject of the duchy and her duke. It would only be my pleasure and honor to cast a spell for you, that we might bring these heinous acts of senseless murder to a close."

"Very well," said the duke. "The duchy thanks you. Now…"