You've been patient, so enjoy a chapter from "The Avalon Saga Book II: The Soldiers of Deception"

Soldiers of Deception

Chapter Three: “Ambushed”

The sunset had long since kissed the horizon and taken its leave of the evening sky when the group reached the bridge. The night was cloudless and the bright stars and full moon illuminated the land enough that Del felt no need to send Slith ahead to scout.

Traversing the bridge was significantly less eventful for the group then had been their previous crossing. Del motioned for everyone to hold up as Killian stopped and ducked under the first truck and trailer that they came across inspecting the condition of the undercarriage. “No good captain, two broken axles, and by the smell of it they were carrying something rather pungent.”

  “Keep moving; let’s check out that other one up ahead.” Del ordered.

About forty yards from the end of the bridge sat a short trailer, the type someone would rent when they were moving to a new home or apartment but had little to actually move. Killian finished his inspection of the undercarriage, reached out from under the trailer, and gave Hardin an “OK” sign with his left hand.

“Think you can get the goat in here and hook that thing up?” Victoria said as she took Killian’s hand and helped him out from under the trailer.

“Can I get the goat in here? Victoria, you might as well ask me if dwarfs can jump.” Killian shot back as he got back to his feet and wiped the gravelly particles of road off of his backside.

Morgan leaned forward and whispered to Amadeus “Can dwarfs jump?”

He smiled and turned his head towards her, slightly amused by the general naiveté she had about the contemporary world. “Yeah, pretty high actually. Their legs are nothing but muscle.”

As Amadeus laughed to himself, Morgan noticed a mark on the mage she had not realized was there before. It was on his neck, just an inch or so below his ear. It was a simple red dot. The mark seemed out of place on him and even more peculiar was that the perfect red circle didn’t seem to move with Amadeus like a tattoo or a birthmark. Instead the red circle wavered slightly with each step that Amadeus took, as if it was being projected on him from some distance away.

Sudden realization brought on a fantastic burst of terror filled adrenaline as Morgan sprung from her seat in Amadeus’ hood. She shouted for him to get down as an astounding strength filled her tiny body. Morgan grabbed the fabric of Amadeus’s hood and threw herself backwards into panicked flight; pulling the relatively gigantic man behind her, just as a shot was fired at him.

Amadeus dropped his staff and it clattered to the ground as the bullet meant to take his life missed its mark. Instead the shot struck his shoulder, tearing through his beaten leather jacket. The bullet made no exit as it struck his shoulder and the force of the shot combined with his sudden shift off of balance sent Amadeus crashing to the ground. Morgan still held tightly to his hood as he slammed down and found herself rushing towards the cement road as well.

The warning cry Morgan had shouted wasn’t just voiced, but fully expressed and rang clearly in all her companion’s heads.

“It’s a sniper, everyone take cover!” Del yelled as he saw Amadeus hit the ground and recognized instantly that they were being ambushed. He drew both of his Rugers from their holsters and began to lay down strafing fire in the direction of the tree line just beyond the bridge. Killian and Victoria were the closest to their downed comrade and both ran to aid him. While Del drew their attacker’s attention, the pair dragged Amadeus to relative safety behind the cover of the trailer the dwarf had just inspected.

Del’s fire was concentrated on the side of the road the sniper’s shot had come from. Without warning his shots were answered by three men. They were clad head to toe in black military fatigues and ski masks and had been using the tree line as cover. Each had been crawling on their bellies to get close, got to their feet and broke from hiding on the opposite side of the highway. The soldiers immediately opened fire on the captain.

All around him, Del felt bullets whizzing past him. When he turned to see how close his new attackers had gotten to his position Del was amazed that he hadn’t been mowed down. He could tell that the three men were firing wild, like they had never experience the recoil of the powerful automatic rifles they were using. He seized the opportunity to take his own advice and dove for cover.

Del ended up between a black van with a red racing stripe down the side and a green flat bed truck. A moment later, Grendel joined him followed by a hail of bullets that rained into the vehicle from the opposite side as two more men dressed head to toe in black joined the three who had first shot at the captain.

“We’ve been ambushed!” Grendel barked loudly.

“Yeah, thanks for the update!” Del replied through clenched teeth.

Del looked over at Grendel as a red dot appeared on the brute’s chest. Del was familiar with laser sites, and had used them himself back when he was a United States Army Ranger. He acted quickly and tackled his friend while simultaneously firing off two rounds in the direction of the well hidden sniper. The shot grazed Grendel’s bicep as both of them hit the pavement.

Del got up quickly but stayed low. The sniper fired a third shot and he could almost feel the bullet split the hairs on the top of his head.

Three more shots came from the sniper before Del chanced a glance to see who his new target was. As he peered over the flat bed truck, he ducked down suddenly, narrowly avoiding Slith as he dove over the truck and joined his comrades in their precarious cover.

“What I wouldn’t give for a nice foxhole and a wall of sandbags right now.” Del said to the others as more bullets fired by the men in all black pelted their cover.

Grendel nodded and did his best to stay low “I would settle for a tower shield.”

“And I would kill for a home baked gooseberry pie.” Slith added deadpan.

Del and Grendel both gave him questioning and confused looks.

“What? Getting shot at makes me hungry; and besides that film you had us watch last month captain, did they not say that any time of day is a good time for pie?” Slith explained with a shrug and a smile.

Del rolled his eyes at the banter as another hail of automated gunfire thundered against the opposite side of the van they were hiding behind.

“Captain, I should remind you that as the son of the queen I am authorized to perform negotiations.” Slith said as he gestured in the direction of the sniper.

Another shot struck the truck just above his head and the he reflexively ducked lower. “Of course, diplomacy may not be the best route to pursue at the moment.”

“V, how’s our boy?” Del yelled back to Victoria some fifteen yards behind him. He hadn’t seen the shot that struck Amadeus. He only had time to turn and watch his young friend fall to the ground, and now that he was given a few still moments his concerns had to be answered.

Victoria pulled Amadeus’ coat down off his shoulder and watched the bullet roll harmlessly out of his sleeve. The coat had been greatly damaged by the shot but the enchanted shirt beneath it was no worse for the wear. She rubbed her fingers firmly over the spot where Amadeus had been struck and she could feel a firm welt forming but nothing worse. As she held the spot to make certain there was no bleeding she picked up the spent round and pocketed it.

“Geez V, that hurts!” Amadeus yelled as he regained his senses and pulled his coat back on.

           

“Amadeus is fine, but Morgan’s out.” Victoria called back to Del.

“Was she hit?” Del yelled over the noise of the intermittent fire coming at him.

Killian held the unconscious woman out for Victoria to see. He gently used one finger to brush aside some of her hair and pointed to a rather nasty looking knot on her forehead. “I’ve got a pretty potent healing salve in the glove box of the goat. Only works on fae folk though, otherwise I would have brought it on our little vacation. I wager it may fix her up fast enough.”

Cupping her hands around her mouth Victoria continued her status report. “No, she’s not hit but it looks like she took a pretty rough bump to the head. Killian thinks he can patch her up, but he needs to get to the goat.”

Slith dropped down like he was going to do a pushup. He looked in the direction of the sniper and then gave a glance towards the men on the other side of the van. “Captain, that sniper’s sight has given him away but I’m afraid we’ve got another problem. It would seems that those soldiers have received reinforcements, and there is something ill about their scent that I cannot place my finger upon.”

Del dropped down to look in the direction of the men in black. There were eight pairs of jackboots now and little by little they were closing in on their position. “V, you guys get ready. Move on my signal, make for the goat.”

            “Alright, but what’s the signal?”

            “Trust me; you’ll know it when you see it!”

            Victoria, Killian, and Amadeus got ready to move and waited with baited breath. From her vantage, Victoria could see the men in black were almost on top of Del’s position. She didn’t dare yell to him again as it would risk exposing herself and the others. Quietly she drew an arrow from her quiver, notched it in her bow and took aim at the soldier closest to her as she whispered to herself “Come on Del.”

            “Listen up, once we make our move there won’t be much time. Slith, think you’re up for rushing that sniper?”

            “Undoubtedly!” answered the bard.

           

“Good, that’s your job then. I’ll cover you.”

“Grendel, grab hold of the undercarriage of the van and when I give the signal I want you to lift that sucker for all you are worth.” Del directed.

Grendel squatted down low and the van creaked as he gripped the undercarriage with one hand and braced the side panel with the other. With no small amount of enthusiasm in his tone, Grendel let Del know he was ready. “I pity those fool enough to stand against you Del Hardin.”

Slith steadied himself and stared down the sniper some eighty yards off. He was coiled and ready, like some fantastic marriage of an Olympic sprinter a moment before a race’s start and a jungle cat about to attack its prey.

 “Now!” Del shouted.

A growl turned into a shout that became a mighty roar as Grendel used all his might to throw the van onto its side. The advancing men in black had no warning or chance to reverse their advance. Five of them were unable to escape the well set trap as the incredibly heavy vehicle crashed down on top of them.

Slith vaulted over the flat bed once again and Del popped up from hiding to provide cover fire while Grendel charged two of the three remaining black clad attackers.

As Del covered Slith the last of the gunmen got the drop on him. Slith made it to the tree line and Del turned around and found he was facing the wrong end of an AK-47 automatic assault rifle. He stared at the soldier for a moment and what Slith had said about their scent finally registered with him. Something was off about the man before him. His eyes weren’t right, somehow inhuman and as he pointed his weapon at Del he let out a low and feral growl.

  Del made his move, but was unable to disarm the man in time as they wrestled with one another. The automatic rifle was still firmly in the soldier’s hand and Del expected the sound of the gun firing any second. Instead he heard an arrow splitting the air, followed by a second, and then a groan as the soldier’s body went limp. As his attacker fell forward into his arms, Del wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the pair of arrows in his back.

“Nice shooting lieutenant!” he called to Victoria as she made her way over to the soldier’s body. She answered with a simple wink and a nod to Del as she settled in next to him and pulled the arrows free from her target.

Grendel’s opponents turned to run as he charged them, both dropping their weapons as they fled. One he caught broadside with a sweeping hammer strike that sent him reeling over the edge of the cliff. The other managed to escape back into the relative safety of the nearby tree line. The brute would not be deterred by this, and followed the gunman without hesitation.

With the path to the goat cleared, Killian sprinted for his truck with Amadeus right behind him. The mage carried Morgan who groaned slightly as he ran. He looked down at her as he made for the vehicle, and did his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his shoulder. “Don’t worry Morgan; Killian is going to get you fixed up.”

Slith re-emerged from the thickly forested grove of trees that lined the broken road. He wore a puzzled look and moved as though he was very much on his guard. He carried a long barreled sniper rifle as he walked out to meet back up with Del and Victoria.

 He handed the weapon to Victoria who looked it over with interest. “He was too fast for you?”

The bard shook his head, as though what had happened made no sense to him at all. “It was a man; I caught a glimpse of him as ran through the trees. I know it was a man.”

“OK Slith, so we know it’s a man. What’s got you so spooked?” Del asked his obviously rattled companion, placing a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye.

The shadowling looked up with one eyebrow raised as high as it could be, marking his confusion over the matter. “Captain, he vanished as if he were a ghost. I could hear no footsteps nor see any sign of him; I even lost his scent and all he left behind was his weapon.”

“Give her over to me Lad.” Killian said as he reached out to Amadeus who hesitated for a moment. Inexplicably the young man’s felt pang of possessiveness before finally reaching up to the dwarf as he stood on the top step of the truck’s cab.

“Amadeus? You sure you’re alright boy?” Killian asked earnestly, even as he held Morgan in one hand and rifled through the contents of his glove box for the magic salve with the other.

“Yeah, I’m fine Killian.” Amadeus answered the dwarf as he rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed by his behavior. Killian continued to rummage through the glove box and in short time found the salve. There was not much left of the substance but it would certainly be enough to help with Morgan’s injuries.

Amadeus began to pace as he waited for Morgan to come to. He walked around to the front of the goat and was caught off guard by a young woman leaning against the front grill of the truck.

“Who are you?’ he just managed to ask the young woman as she turned to face him. She raised one finger to her lips in a hushing gesture and placed a strong and passionate kiss on his lips. Amadeus looked at her with whimsical confusion and that was all the opportunity she needed. With her opponent momentarily taken off guard the young woman raised her left hand, and let loose a crackling bolt of crimson lightning that struck Amadeus full in the chest and sent him flying backwards some distance before he crashed to the ground.

The bright flash was more than enough to get Killian’s attention, and as Amadeus slammed hard to the ground just shy of the trees the dwarf realized that the ambush was far from over. He reacted quickly, pulling down hard on the line stretched above the driver’s seat. The Goat’s horn blasted loudly, and Killian followed up the sonic assault by flicking on the truck’s high beams.

A ringing claxon horn erupted in the night causing Amadeus’s assailant to stagger away from the grill of the vehicle to where she was plainly in Killian’s view. She covered her ears and looked up just in time to be blinded by the powerful headlights of the truck as they suddenly flashed to brilliant life only a few feet from her.

The simple yet affective maneuver put the others on alert, and the young woman that had attacked Amadeus ran blindly towards the tree line and stumbled awkwardly before falling to the ground. Turning onto her back she fired a second bolt of crimson lighting, this one hitting the Goat squarely on the front grill.

Thanks to the protection spells etched onto the front bumper the truck shrugged off the attack with ease. Killian gently wrapped Morgan in his wool hat and then set her down in the open glove compartment. He turned and opened the driver’s side door and was about to hop down from the cab to pursue the spell casting young woman but stopped abruptly. His eyes went wide with startled alarm as he drew his side arm and began to open fire. The powerful shots from the thunder maker sparked brightly as they struck their target. Still the dwarf’s efforts barely slowed the charging figure in black and gold armor as it came barreling down on him from the tree line.

Despite wearing full plate, battle armor the knight moved with impressive speed. Killian was barely able to close the driver side door of the truck’s cab and brace himself within as the armored knight slammed into the side of it. The whole cab shook from the impact and the door already showed signs of buckling despite its considerable reinforcement.

A gauntlet clad hand crashed through the window, gripped the door, and then ripped it completely off of its hinges. Two more shots ricocheted off of the black knight as he stood in the gapping hole where the driver side door used to be. The powerful gun had struck him at point blank range and the last shot even glanced off his helm. He barely seemed to take notice of it.

Killian scooted himself backward until he was against the passenger side door. The knight moved up onto the first step of the cab and the goat shifted on its axles under his weight. Though his face was completely hidden by his helm, Killian could feel the man’s eyes squarely on him.

“I’m only going to say this once stub, tell me where the key is or you’re one dead dwarf.”

The old dwarf had had his life threatened more than once since the war with Avalon had started, but rare was the occasion that he believed the one threatening him capable of making good on such a thing. This black knight was definitely one of those rare instances. As quickly as he could, Killian snatched Morgan’s still unconscious body from the glove box, opened the passenger door with his free hand, and let himself fall backwards like a diver dropping into the sea.

His sudden fall met with an abrupt stop that knocked the wind out of Killian. He staggered back to his feet and called to Amadeus who was himself getting up very slowly. “We need to regroup boy, there’s more to this than we thought… they know about the key!” 

Killian rushed over and grabbed Amadeus intent on gathering him up and moving to regroup with the others. The young man staggered to his feet but was still dazed as he stood on weak legs and tried to shake off the affects of whatever arcane power had been used on him.

Killian could hear the sounds of twisting metal, breaking glass, and tearing upholstery as the black knight carved a path of destruction through the cab of his beloved truck. Seconds later his pursuer stepped down out of the vehicle, and the young enchantress who had leveled Amadeus moments ago rounded the front of the goat and joined her imposing companion. They stood together, and the young woman’s hands began to spark with crimson energy that lit up her face and reflected off of the knight’s armor.

Killian shook Amadeus hard in an effort to break the haze that he seemed mired in. “Amadeus, you need to snap out of whatever it is she did to you lad!”

The knight stuck out his armor-clad hand and leaned forward. “I told you I wasn’t going to ask you a second time stub! Now, you can either hand over the key or we can take it from you.”

Turning to his young friend Killian subtly placed Morgan in his care, more out of necessity than want. He turned back around to face the duo and swallowed hard as he unsheathed his sword, and stepped forward to stand between his companions and those who would do them harm.

“The key, now!” the black knight barked out.

One hand let go of his sword and Killian reached into his pocket. He pulled out a bronze key ring with many keys of various sizes and makes on it and tossed them down in front of the threatening duo. Both regarded the simple trinkets and then looked at each other. The enchantress seemed a little impressed by the move as she began to laugh out loud.

The knight was very much not amused and stomped on the keys, flattening them into the ground as he barked out an order “Shut it private!”

His terse tone and curt manner startled the young woman and she fell silent instantly.

“You liked that did you Miss? Well then, you are sure to love this!” Killian said with a growling and tooth filled smile that even his thick red beard could not hide. He leapt at the knight with all the force he could muster and slammed Fiendsunder’s blade down hard against his breastplate. The knight pitched backward as he was suddenly thrown off balance, and inadvertently shoved the young spell caster to the ground as he fell against the side of the Goat.

Judging from how the knight had shrugged off his gunshots moments ago Killian knew this attack would buy him precious little time. He had to act fast. As the black knight regained his balance he reached up and grabbed Killian around his thick neck with both hands. As the crushing weight of the knight’s grip caught him by the throat, the dwarf managed to find the small latch that held his opponents face plate in place. The armored powerhouse stood up tall and held the dwarf straight out in front of him, but Killian still managed to flip the dark helm open.

The man inside had a rough, weathered, and uncaring face and the lines on his brow spoke of a lifetime of anger and disregard. None of that mattered though, what Killian was looking for where his enemy’s eyes. Even as his breath was being cut off by the knights vice like hold at his neck Killian was able to gather a great bolus of spit from deep in his chest. He smiled at the knight right before he fired the unpleasant mass directly into the eyes of the man inside the armor.

Though dwarfs rarely speak of such things, it is a little known fact that the expectorate their salivary glands produce is more akin to kerosene than it is to saliva. So in that one bold move Killian had managed to temporarily blind the dark juggernaut that held him.

The knight recoiled and let go of the dwarf with one hand as he desperately tried to wipe the burning fluid from his eyes. Killian had no time to even attempt to pry himself free from the knight’s other hand as he was slammed into the side of the goat with astounding force. The impact rocked the vehicle once again and the hit was so hard that his back left an impression in the reinforced armor plating. Mercifully, Killian didn’t feel himself collide with the road as the knight threw him aside. The dwarf hit the pavement and rolled over four times before coming to a stop. He lay in a motionless heap on the ground; his only sign of life was the heaving of his broad chest.

The others had heard the commotion that was occurring some yards away, but whatever was happening over by the goat had become secondary to what they were dealing with that moment.

As Slith was about to elaborate on the vanishing sniper; the goat’s horn sounded. The trio looked up and began to make for the truck but stopped suddenly as Victoria was violently jerked backwards by some unseen force. Her posture and balance were completely thrown off but somehow she remained standing. Her bow clattered to the ground as she clutched at her chest, and looked as though she had been grabbed hold of by the arm of some unseen attacker.

Neither Del nor Slith had a target to go after as Victoria fought against the violent manhandling seemingly brought on by the air itself. The woman was far from helpless however and managed a moment of leverage, which she used to thrust her elbow backward with as much force as she could muster.

For a split second it seemed like she had managed to free herself from the hold of her attacker. That’s when all three heard the unmistakable sound of a blade sliding from a sheath and once again the invisible assailant grabbed Victoria, this time however the very visible and razor sharp, serrated blade of a large compass knife was being held to her throat.

As she felt the cold metal press against her carotid artery, she ceased her struggling. Victoria knew that the slightest cut could mean bleeding to death in minutes.

Del locked eyes with her, and she could tell he was about to make a go for her attacker. She shook her head, knowing full well that even Slith’s speed and agility wouldn’t be able to save her. Both warriors could see that this was not a moment for brash action.

The attacker finally spoke. His voice was a raspy and slightly high pitched but distinctly masculine. “That’s better. All right, I don’t want any more heroics from any of you. I see you two make a move; I slice me a piece of this cheesecake. Got it?”

“Show yourself villain!” Slith demanded.

“What’s wrong imp-boy? Little upset that you got out done at your own game by one of us? Must really burn you up, huh?” The man said as he suddenly appeared before them. He maintained his cross body hold on Victoria and pushed his blade into her neck to emphasize that he meant business.

Even as this new peril played out Slith’s sharp ears homed in on the tense dialogue between Killian and the black knight. Quietly he whispered to Del. “Captain, I believe the others are in danger as well.”

Despite not having the heightened senses of his companion, Del had surmised as much just from the sounds of destruction and the shaking of the truck that he had caught in his periphery. He locked eyes with the shadowling and nodded for him to make towards the others. Slith was about to start towards the commotion when Victoria’s assailant piped up again.

“HEY! I said no heroics! Helping your buddies, counts as heroics!” the rogue’s voice cracked as he yelled and pointed his blade at Slith and Del.

As the dagger left its threatening station at her neck, Victoria saw her chance. She brought her booted heel down hard on the man’s toes and threw another elbow into his ribcage, followed by a backhanded fist to his nose and then a punch to his groin all in one fluid combination.

Her cowardly captor doubled over. He dropped his dagger and staggered a few steps back as he clutched himself in pain. Before he could recover she spun to face him grabbed a handful of his hair and then struck him square in the jaw with her right knee. He flew off his feet and hit the ground hard, crying out in pain. As he landed and whined he grabbed for the hood of the cloak he wore and pulled it up over his head, once again vanishing altogether.

Closing the short gap between them didn’t take the trio long, but it was enough time for their invisible opponent to make a clean escape. As Victoria stomped the ground where he hand been only a second before, she hit nothing but the pavement. Turning back to Del and Slith as they rushed up behind her, she wore a look of utter frustration “He got away.”

All three turned to see Killian roll to a stop about forty yards away from them. The black knight stalked out after him, closing the distance between himself and the dwarf as the tears from his eyes cleared away the burning spit.

Slith drew a dagger from his belt and threw it with great force and keen accuracy. The weapon spun end over end, whistling through the night air as it closed in on its target. The knight raised his arm and the blade deflected off his armor without leaving so much as a scratch.

The bard made ready to charge to his companion’s rescue, but suddenly had his legs swept out from under him as the invisible rogue struck once again. So sudden was the attack that even Slith could not avoid the fall to the ground. In less than a second he sprang back to his feet and tried to make for Killian again, but the rogue kneed him hard in the stomach and caught him square in the jaw with a jarring punch.

There was silence until Slith heard the rogue’s knife sliding on the ground as it was retrieved. His invisible foe laughed, and to Slith it seemed like the titter of a rat or some other low creature. Slith moved quickly and struck at the sound of the man’s voice, but missed. The rogue’s blade lashed out from thin air and struck Slith across the back. The wound it left was not deep, but painful all the same.

“Oh ho ho, swing and a miss! That’s strike one imp-boy; you get two more and then its game over for you.” As his voice trailed off the knife flashed from out of nowhere for a second strike and was narrowly avoided by Slith’s quick reflexes. Despite his friend’s imminent danger he knew he had no choice. Slith stood his ground, and made ready to duel the invisible rogue.

The knight could see that his stealthy cohort had one of the three warriors down the road busy as he pulled his faceplate closed and latched it once again, in effect leaving his opposition no target what so ever. He leaned over Killian’s prone form and stared at Del and Victoria. He yelled to them as he stood up straight and set his large, armored, boot roughly on Killian’s head. “So, I think what you two need to ask yourselves is this; just how fast are you?”

His intentions were clear, and both Victoria and Del sprinted towards the knight in an effort to rescue their friend. Del pulled Balmung from the sheath on his back but knew the distance was just too far.

Victoria kept pace with Del, but she knew they weren’t fast enough to stop what was about to happen. She felt a lump in her throat as she watched as the world fell into slow motion.

“KILLIAN!” they both cried out.

The dark knight raised his foot as high as his armor would allow and made ready to deliver a final fatal blow to the dwarf who had caused him so much trouble. He aimed his heel right at Killian’s skull. He could hear the cries of the dwarf’s friends futilely calling his name in the distance and laughed to himself, until another cry eclipsed all other sounds around him and he had just enough time to turn towards the source of it.

“VARAAG!” Grendel howled the name of his clan drawing it out in long syllables to get the attention of his foe. With both hands Grendel reared back and threw his great hammer end over end at the man in the black armor from thirty yards away. The weapon slammed into the black knight who managed to raise his arm up to deflect it with only a split second to spare. The sound of it all was something akin to a car wreck.

The sudden attack knocked the knight of balance once again nearly knocking him to the ground. Grendel burst through the cover of the nearby tree line. He charged out as the knight staggered backward several paces before he steadied himself. The brute slammed into him with all the force he could muster wrapping his arms about him and driving his shoulder into the knight’s abdomen like a battering ram. The combatants tumbled to the ground and Grendel mounted himself on the knight as he lay prone beneath him. Blow after merciless blow rained down on him the man for nearly half a minute and the knight brought his hands up to guard himself seemingly outmatched by his newest opponents’ sudden and relentless assault.

The varying cries of battle startled Morgan and she awoke with a splitting headache. She looked up and saw a canopy of treetops rising high into the night sky and in the distance she could hear her friends’ voices, some sounded panicked and others enraged.

Just as her eyes fluttered open she felt a strange sensation. A cold chill seemed to be wrapping around her and the feeling was all too similar to what she had felt when Titania first changed her into gold.

Looking down she realized a well-manicured pair of fingernails coated in black polish were just finishing up tying a golden ribbon around her neck. The young woman gestured and the ribbon transformed in a very snug metal collar. Inside, fear and indignant rage mingled together and Morgan made ready to blast this woman with whatever power she could muster. She threw her hands up like she was trying to shove the young woman but nothing happened.

“What the hell, am I doing it wrong?” she thought to herself as she tried again, to no affect. Though she could still feel the boundless wellspring of magic flowing inside of her somehow her powers had been blocked from her. Morgan looked around in a panic to find something to defend herself with. As she looked down however, she realized that the hand she sat in seemed familiar to her. Then she looked up to see Amadeus’s face.

“Hey Boy Blue what are you doing? Drop this Charmed reject already, and let’s get out of here!” she called up to him. When he didn’t respond to her, she tried to fly up to his face fully intent on slapping some sense into him but even as she willed her ethereal wings to bare her aloft, she didn’t budge. She closed her eyes and focused all her thought on flight, still nothing. Even after that she jumped up twice, the second time nearly losing her balance on the landing and toppling off of the open palm she stood in. She knew for certain that whatever damn had been placed on her magic, would not be easy to break.

“You look exactly like the Commander said you would you know? Be careful now little key woman, can’t return you damaged.” said the woman from behind Morgan, and she couldn’t help but notice that she spoke with a thick French accent.

“Nifty little piece of work isn’t it? The collar I mean. The Commander says it will keep you from being too much trouble. From what we have been told you are quite the powerful little thing aren’t you? Now that I see you though I don’t know how such a tiny thing could ever be troublesome for us.” she quipped as she brushed her blonde hair back behind her ears and leaned in to get a better look at Morgan.

Morgan pulled at the strange collar about her neck. Strange writing was etched into the cold gold of the collar, and it glowed with the blazing light of powerful enchantment. The firm adornment budged slightly when she pulled on it and fit her so snug that she barely managed to fit two fingers in between it and her neck. With no buckle to speak of that could be undone, Morgan was at a loss for how she could rid herself of this magic shackle. Despite her preoccupation in trying to remove the collar, Morgan never took her eyes off of the young blonde woman and couldn’t decide what was worse; the condescension behind the girl’s comment or the fact she was looking at her like a child seeing a sideshow attraction. “Tell you what frenchie, you take this collar off of me for a minute and I’ll be happy to show you exactly how much trouble a tiny thing like me can be for you sister! In fact since I can’t he will! Toast her blue boy!”

“I am afraid that he will not be toasting anyone at the moment. That little hex that I put on him is very potent. It makes him like the zombie? Oi’ that is it.”

The blonde woman reached for Morgan and without the ability to fly she had nowhere to go. She got down on her hands and knees and tried crawling up and under the sleeve of Amadeus’s shirt, but she felt her foot pinched between the polished fingernails of the bemused pursuier before she could get away. As the young woman gently withdrew her, Morgan tried thinking of anything she could to snap Amadeus out of the spell he was under. Just as she was being pulled away from him she bit his middle finger so hard that she drew blood and then spit in the tiny wound.

The young woman wasted no time depositing Morgan in a thick leather bag with arcane runes sewn into it. She cinched the bag closed and tied it tightly while Morgan struggled and screamed indiscernible obscenities at her from within. She laughed at Morgan’s efforts and patted Amadeus on the head as she turned to see how her comrades were fairing with the others. As she walked away, Amadeus lifted his finger to his mouth and sucked on it to ease the pain he was suddenly feeling. Slowly he started to become aware of the world around him as though a blanketing fugue was being dragged slowly off.

Not too far off he heard Grendel’s shouts as he pounded on the black knight. From his vantage he could see Del and Victoria attending to Killian, still lying motionless on the road. Then it all came back to him, every second of the last few tense minutes. He raised his hand up and despite the great distance separating them his staff flew swiftly into his grasp.

Charging after the woman who had attacked him and taken Morgan, Amadeus cast no spell. Instead he dove at her legs, catching her just behind the knees. She fell backward on top of him and the two wrestled for the bag that she held. Flashes of red and blue magic sparked off of the pair as they wrestled one another and fought for Morgan.

The woman was surprisingly strong for her size and Amadeus had to resort to biting her on the wrist to get her to let go of the bag with Morgan inside. With quick reflex he caught the bag in mid-air, turned over onto his stomach, then pulled the draw strings of it open, and placed it down as gently as urgency would allow.

“Run Morgan!” he screamed as the witch jumped on his back and began pulling his hair at the roots. She was yelling something in French as he rolled over and slapped her hard with his ring hand. She fell off of him, landing hard on her backside and this time fired bolts of crimson energy at him with both hands. Amadeus saw the attack coming and a blue sphere of protection surrounded him.

Looking for an avenue of escape, Morgan could see Grendel in the distance. He was pounding on a mound of black metal, which she quickly realized was a man in armor. She was surprised to see the brute flung to the ground by his opponent as the two battled for dominance. Even further off, she spotted Slith. His arms were raised and he looked like a puppet on unseen strings dancing in circle as though he grappled with the very air itself.

“Morgan, over here! Quickly!” a familiar voice called to her from just beyond the massive truck. She looked up to see Del, kneeling on the ground and gesturing with his finger for her to come to him.

Seeing Del motioning for her, all other thought fell away. Morgan broke into a full sprint and made for the safety of her rescuer’s hands. With her newfound powers somehow denied to her, she felt impossibly small and helpless. Morgan knew that if she could just get to Del he would keep her safe.

She had to pass by Amadeus as he and the young witch were still locked in a heated match of arcane combat. The scene was reminiscent of a bad fifties monster movie, and only served as motivation for her to run faster.

Morgan was nearly out of breath as she closed in on Del and at the last second the thought occurred to her “Why is he taking it easy and hiding when the others seem to be in the fights of their lives? Why is he making me come to him?”

The way the man snatched her up once she was at his feet seemed altogether different from the careful consideration he had shown her over since their meeting. “Was it the heat of the moment?” she wondered. In the back of her mind she heard a far off voice screaming at her to get away from him as quickly as she could. “Del, this collar thing, it’s keeping me from using magic somehow...”

She stopped as she locked eyes with the captain. The way Del was looking at her now made Morgan shiver with discomfort. He brought her up to his face and his fingers closed around her. The firm but gentle hold that she had experienced with him was gone, replaced by rough groping digits that were far too presumptuous in where they landed on her body. As she pushed against his index finger she looked down at his hand and then back up to his face. “Hey Captain, I know we’re in the middle of a fight but could you maybe handle a girl with some care?”

Nervousness and doubts suddenly leant alarming credence to the reservations she was feeling. In a swift move and far too quickly Del brought Morgan to rest against his cheek before he ran his nose along her body, inhaling deeply. A terror that was only matched by the events from the day the world changed gripped Morgan fully and a familiar sense of dread overcame her, as though she had been in these clutches before.

“Morgan, Morgan, Morgan we are finally reunited at last, and against staggering odds I might add. Oh how I have missed playing with you my pet.” The voice that met her ears was not Del’s, but she knew it all too well. It was one of the few Morgan could recall from her time as a prisoner of Avalon. The realization of her mistake sank in as the being that had masqueraded as Del brushed his free hand down his face, leaving a new one in its stead. As his features shifted a lump formed in Morgan’s throat.

The visage of her false rescuer was different then when she last saw him but was still unmistakably familiar. Time had not passed for Morgan in her gilded prison, so for her they had only been apart a few short days, but eternity still would not have been long enough as she stared up, wide-eyed, at her former jailer and tormentor. She kicked her legs and pushed at his fingers while his eyes leered down at her. “Puck, put me down you bastard!”

He raised one finger to his lips to make a hushing gesture, and the collar glowed more brightly than before. Suddenly Morgan found that her voice was lost to her. “You will hold that sharp tongue of yours my pet. I can’t have you using the P word so openly. Some of my new friends are not privy to such secrets. If it is a name you must call me then currently I go by Commander Robert Noman and you just have to love the irony of my current moniker, don’t you my prize?”

Morgan continued her struggles and her captor allowed her voice to return to her, meek as it was. “I’m not your prize or your pet you monster, now let me go or so help me I will do things to you that will make you wish you had never come out of Stonehenge!”

Puck seemed altogether shocked by the amount of conviction in Morgan’s voice and the strength of her resolve. “Oh-ho! Morgan, what happened to the weak and frightened little creature whom I so cherished? You have fire inside you now! That’s good, it will make my reward that much sweeter.”

Bringing his index finger to rest on the outside of Morgan’s left leg, he ran it slowly upward until her reached the hem of her dress and then began to move higher. With a swift and hard kick Morgan managed to fend off the huge digit. “Don’t even think about it!”

Puck smiled at the pure disgust and disdain that Morgan had for him. He adjusted his grip on her so that her arms were now pined by his fingers and all she could hope to do was fruitlessly kick her feet.

As he held her Puck looked over Morgan. He shook his head and his expression was like that of a jeweler examining a precious stone coated in grime; as if its beauty and luster were hidden from him. “These rags you’re wearing, I can only assume that this would be Loki’s notion of fashion for one such as you. Why anyone would deprive himself of the vision of you in all your natural glory is beyond even me. However, keeping you naked could prove a distraction. I do think that a change of wardrobe is in order. Your garb is something that I am truly loathing, so I use my powers now to remake your clothing!”

Morgan felt pressure on her shoulders as Puck squeezed her tightly. His grip was uncomfortably firm, just shy of painful, and a singing heat flowed over Morgan following his verse. A prickling itch tickled and teased Morgan for torturous seconds as Puck’s spell worked it magic. She could feel her clothing changing, it was becoming tighter, and there much less of it. The singing heat and pin-pricking scratches from Puck’s hand did not subside until her attire had been fully perverted into something no one would consider appropriate.

With his new indignity put upon her, Puck callously smiled at Morgan and opened his grip to get a better look at his handiwork. He gloated with his eyes as he set Morgan to stand in his palm and admired her.

In addition to the golden collar around her neck Morgan was now clad in a scandalously revealing dark purple ensemble, that was little more than a bikini with gold metal decoration throughout. For a moment she looked herself over, infuriated but not altogether surprised by Puck’s latest transgression. When her eyes met with his leering gaze again, the look she gave him could not possibly convey one iota more of hatred.

When he brought her in close for a more thorough inspection Morgan felt an unwanted sense of helpless creeping over her. Everything that she had gained in the brief time since her liberation, Puck had managed to take from her in seconds. She wanted to spit fire at him, turn his tears to burning acid, and boil his eyes in his head for the way he was looking at her now. Morgan didn’t want to budge, didn’t want to look away despite every fiber of her being telling her that she was no match for him. “I’m still not afraid of you, and you better believe you’re not getting a damned thing you want from me no matter how I’m dressed you perverted asshole!”

“Such language? Come now, I just wish to behold your beauty Morgan. Though as I look at you I must admit some regret in never having taken the opportunity to get to know you more, intimately. You do look delicious my prize.” Puck licked his lips to punctuate the statement.

She remembered this game, it was Puck’s favorite, he would say or do anything to terrify her and luxuriated in the few times that he managed to bring Morgan to tears. He had played this hand against her before but this time he wouldn’t be winning. It took her a moment to muster the courage to do so but finally she found the words she wanted and stared up at Puck with absolute indignation. “Puck, believe me when I say you can threaten me any way you want but I’ll never be your anything! When this is all said and done you had better hope my friends have finished you off because if I get hold of you I promise I the things that I will do to you will redefine your notions of cruel and unusual!”

Puck’s eyes went wide with surprise and he was once again amazed that his formerly timid captive had grown such a strong and deeply rooted spine. Even now, stripped of her powers, her allies, and her dignity she remained defiant. “You know Morgan that almost made me a little bit scared, impressive! It’s a shame you’ll never get that opportunity though, I would be intrigued to see if you have it in you.” With his free hand Puck gestured for the empty bag on the ground and it flew into his waiting grasp. Despite Morgan’s protests Puck shifted his hand and took one last look at her before he dropped her into the bag and then tied it shut. From within her prison Morgan’s muffled shouts could be heard but remained just as indiscernible as before. The sinister villain smiled, and brushed his hand over his face once again this time donning the guise his military commander. “Now then, I think I’ll introduce myself to Loki’s errand boys.”

The battles continued on the road and Amadeus managed to get the upper hand in his contest with the young enchantress. He hit her with a blast that sent her to the ground, and she landed just a few feet away from another man Amadeus didn’t recognize. He stood in front of the Goat. A tall and lean figure, he had his back to the battlefield and as Amadeus took notice of him, he saw the man curiously stroking his own face.

Puck stepped out from cover as Commander Robert Noman just after the young blonde woman flew from her feet and landed on her back in front of him. He looked down at her as she coughed out a puff of blue smoke before opening her eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he knelt down and dangled the bag with Morgan inside over the woman’s chest and then whispered to her. “Very disappointing private, now make yourself useful and try to hold onto this while I deal with your young friend.  And in case I haven’t been crystal clear on this point allow me to be now, if you lose our little captive again I promise you will be the next one inside this bag! Do you understand me private?”

The young woman’s eyes went wide when she realized what the gravity of her commander’s threat, and something in the back of her mind told her that as impossible as such a thing might seem he was capable of making good on what he had said. She took the bag from him and frantically nodded to show her understanding. Even as she got to her feet and moved away from him, she remained fearful that further reprimand was coming her way. The Commander’s attentions however, were now elsewhere and she watched as he stepped forward and faced down the young mage who had bested her.

Amadeus made ready to take on the new challenger, his will bolstered by a burst of adrenaline. He hurled a ball of blue flame at the man, which hit him square in the chest. He simply shrugged backwards as if the attack were as effective as a shove from a child. The fireball was followed up by a bolt of lightning, again striking the man in the chest and about the arms and head. He continued to slowly advance, almost casual in his approach and made no effort to avoid the lancing arc of energy. Amadeus’ spell had all the affect of a steadily weakening jet of water from a hose and finally he relinquished his futile efforts as the man stepped up right in front of him.

The commander smiled, and a hint of Puck’s demeanor managed to show through. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

Amadeus was amazed that this man had stood up to his attacks despite the fact that he was still reeling from the battle with the young enchantress. He could feel his stamina nearing its end and his mind raced for something, anything that he could do that would have an affect on this man who was seemingly immune to magic. Then like a flash of insight, he knew what he had to do and in a very uncharacteristic move he dropped his staff, balled his hand into a fist, and swung as hard as he could at the mocking smile on the face of the man before him.  

The adrenaline-fueled punch to the man’s jaw actually seemed to take him by surprise and he staggered back and had to regain his balance. Touching his hand to his face, the commander realized that the young mages rings had left deep cuts on his lips and chin. He was not at all pleased to see his own blood. “Not bad whelp, but now it’s my turn.”

The man came at him in a blur of motion and Amadeus had only a second, so he did the only thing he knew he had time for “Del, they’ve got Morgan!”

Del looked up from tending to Killian just in time to see the commander grab Amadeus by the front of his shirt. He slapped him hard and then hit him with a back hand strike so powerful that it spun Amadeus around from the force of it. Del watched as his young companion fell to the ground.

“Ha!” the man called out as he wiped his hands as though he had just finished the simplest of chores. He paid Amadeus no mind now that he no longer stood in his path and strode towards the center of the battlefield. He balled his hands into fists, held them together as if gripping a handle, and then drew them apart. As he did this a white, wooden, staff appeared in his grasp. He spun the modest weapon expertly and looked around as if searching the field of battle for a new challenger and his gaze came to rest on Del.

A faint voice in the back of the Del’s mind managed to speak its peace in an urgent and angry whisper. “It’s him!”

Del didn’t know if it was Loki or his own subconscious. What he was sure of was that the man striding out into the middle of the battlefield wasn’t all that he seemed to be. Del felt compelled not just by duty or urgency, but by an inexplicable need to stop him no matter what, almost as if he had faced this enemy before and knew how dangerous he could be. In a bold move Del charged the newcomer with his sword at the ready and swung for the man’s throat. He easily ducked under the blade as he anticipated the attack. Del followed the first attack up with a trio of cross body slashes and each was evaded as the man moved with speed and agility that was beyond even the most fit and trained human being. Del felt as though he was being toyed with so he backed off and circled the man from a few paces away. The commander kept his eyes on Del, but did not move or even turn his body. Once De; was directly behind the man, he finally turned to face him once again. There was a long pause in their duel as they stared each other down. Del could see something behind this man’s eyes, and he was certain that he wasn’t dealing with a man at all.

The commander smiled as Del readied himself. “So, you’re the one he chose, truly laughable. What is it that he sees in you I wonder? But you’ve a keen eye I’ll give you that, it’s not many that can see through my disguises. Is that one of the favors he has bestowed upon you, or the reason that he chose you? In truth it does not matter, you do not stand a chance against me you know? However I’m feeling sporting today, so go ahead hero take your best shot.”

 As Del braced his free hand against the butt of his sword the commander held his arms open wide and looked as though he intended on embracing his enemy. Del didn’t waste the opportunity and in a quick and precise motion made a thrusting strike right for the man’s heart. With impossible speed the man side stepped the strike at the absolute last moment and retaliated with a hard chop to Del’s throat and then sent him rolling to the ground with a single kick to his midsection. Before he could get back to his feet Del’s opponent was practically on top of him.

Victoria came at the man from behind and threw a strong chokehold around his neck. He took one step back, grabbed the woman by her long, dark, locks and shoulder tossed her down on the ground as well. He followed the throw with a downward strike from his staff that knocked the wind out of Victoria and left her gasping for air along side Del.

Puck stood over them and sneered down at Del and Victoria as an afterthought. Dropping his staff so that it landed across both of their necks, then put his foot on it, and pressed down effectively choking and pinning them at the same time. “Loki’s Champions indeed! If you are the best my old rival can muster than I would say that years spent in mortal imprisonment have soured his cunning and addled his judgment more than I had suspected.”

Both Del and Victoria took hold of the staff and pushed for all they were worth, but the gloating man simply pushed back and placed his other foot on the staff. He stood perched on the weapon like a bird on a swing. The pressure was more than enough to crush both of their windpipes as he leaned all his weight on the staff. He knelt down and stuck his head low so that he could whisper to the pair on the ground. “I suppose I do owe you and the old trickster a debt of gratitude though. Where it not for his calling you to aid him and your efforts in doing so, I would never have been reunited with my prize. Oberon was so cross with me after my last battle with the halfwit Loki, imprisoned within that aged wizard Faylore. He took her from me you know, and Titania actually cast a spell on her so that even I would not be able to discern her whereabouts then put her in the care of that foul creature Echidna. They told me that if I ever tried to reclaim Morgan, Echidna would rip me limb from limb and scatter me to the far corners of the earth. So let me say thank you, sincerely from the bottom of my little black heart. You have slain Echidna and brought Morgan right to me. And won’t the trickster will be so proud of you all.”

Del gritted his teeth and pushed hard on the staff, redoubling his efforts but the man wouldn’t budge. “What do you want with her?”

“What I’ve always wanted fool, her power! As much as I can appreciate her physical form, it is that which she holds within that interests me the most. Once the power that resides beneath her bosom is mine I will become a match for even Oberon and Titania. Should such a game suits my fancy.” he added in a casual tone, as if he were having light conversation.

Victoria pushed along with Del, but still they couldn’t move the gloating man. Victoria spat at the shifty eyed villain out of frustration “What have you done with her?”

“Oh I’ve done nothing yet but I assure you I will. Do you know the story of it all? Inadvertently or not, it was she who first wronged me you know? She ruined my perfectly planned plot and thwarted my efforts to claim that which I had sought to steal! Somehow she, a mere mortal managed to rob me of my prize, the power that Loki first used to banish all of magic so many years ago; but it will not happen again. In two nights time I shall at last have the opportunity to rectify that. A pity that it will be Morgan’s end, I had so many other games I had hoped to play with her. Now, I should stay and finish the whole wretched bunch of you off myself, but the journey to the altar I left at the great falls is still ahead. Besides that, I have summoned some of my dogs here in case you proved more trouble than I had guessed. It wouldn’t be very fair to them if I just destroyed you on the spot would it? Better I think that I leave you all for their sport.” As he finished, he gripped the staff between his feet and kicked it high into the air as he rolled backwards and hopped to standing. Once on his feet he caught the staff as it fell to him and held it high above his head. With a twirling of his fingers, he spun the simple shaft of wood in a whirling circle above him and with each rotation he picked up speed and the ends of the staff slowly began to spark. Above and around the staff a cone of bright orange energy began to spin.

A pair of iron wills got Del and Victoria back on their feet and ready to fight and the taunting man merely laughed at them. Still spinning his staff overhead he took in a deep breath and blew it at the duo. Del and Victoria were slammed by a powerful gust of wind that took them both off their feet once more and threw them backward almost two dozen yards.

With absolute determination Del managed to roll to standing and keep a foothold. He started to charge at his enemy again, but the torrent of wind kept him just out of reach. With a wink and a smile, the man reached up and caught his staff with his free hand. Bright energy surged and arched throughout the long shaft of the simple weapon and the taunting man invoked a spell in a way Del had never before seen.

“With magic and steel the prize has been won,

Through cunning and guile my will has been done,

The key is now mine, and my enemies vex it,

Now gather my warriors, tis time for our exit!”

As he finished his rhyme, the man brought the butt of the staff down hard and the ground around him cracked and splintered as the energy within the wooden shaft shot downward, and then exploded up and around him.

Seeing the signal for their retreat the black knight slammed Grendel face first into the ground, got up, and then stomped on the back of his head for good measure. He turned and charged towards the shaft of light and rested a hand on his commander’s shoulder once he was well within brilliant orange. The young enchantress followed the knight and joined him within the influence of the spell that had been cast. Del could see that she held a strange looking bag, and was certain that Morgan was inside it as she put her hand on the commander’s back. Finally the rogue dashed towards the light. Just before reaching his comrades, he dropped his hood and became visible once again. The slim man paused for a moment, stopped, pointed and laughed at Del and then spit in his face. The rogue watched as Del struggled against the gusting torrent that still kept him just out of reach. His gloating done, the rogue proceeded to give Del the finger, shook his head, and stepped into the light to join the others.

Though Del had to suffer through the indignities of that moment of gloating, it afforded Amadeus time for action. As the rogue reached up to put his hand on his commander, Amadeus finally mustered his strength again. It only took a second of assessment to realize what was happening. The bad guys were making their get away. His eyes fell on the familiar bag and the small struggling form therein. Upon seeing Morgan once again in the hands of the enemy thought was lost and action was all that Amadeus knew as he dashed towards the quartet from behind. “No, let her go!”

Del watched as the light from the ground enveloped them all and at the last second, he could see Amadeus’ ring clad hand as it grabbed hold of the commander’s arm. All at once, the light exploded outward in an incredible shock wave and knocked Del to the ground again. It took him only a moment to get back to his feet, but it was already too late.

The wooden staff crumbled to ashes where it had stood and Del ran to the spot where the light had been and fell to his knees. He clutched at the pile of ashes that had been the staff, but it was already all over. The gloating commander and his trio were gone, spirited away by some magic that Del and the others could not hope to understand. Worse still, they had taken Morgan and Amadeus with them.

            In the back of his mind, Del heard the soft whisper again, “It’s him!”

He grit his teeth in anger and slapped his hand against the ground. Everything the gloating man had said was proof enough of his identity but the whisper in his subconscious was the decisive factor for Del. He looked up at the clear night sky and could swear the faintest hint of laughter echoed through the night mocking him. Pushed past his limit and frustrated beyond reason Del finally let his temper get the best of him. As he yelled into the night, his echo carried his anger across the bay. “Damn you Puck, this isn’t over!”