‘Gurin said we should stay down here,’ Grim reminded him, ‘and guard the princess.’
‘Yes, but there’s something strange going on up there. We can’t just leave them to it.’
‘Please don’t stay on my account,’ Borte’s voice drifted over again.
‘What do you think, Og?’ Grim asked.
‘Maybe we should have a look.’
‘Yes!’ Dog cried in exultation.
With an uneasy feeling, Grim began to ascend the stone steps. He really wasn’t sure about this course of action. What if, by opening the trapdoor, they revealed the location of the princess to the enemy? Then again, they had friends up there that might need their help. As they approached the top of the steps, he heard the crack of weapons striking metal armour and wooden shields, the shouts and screams of menials.
Og and Dog flung open the trapdoor and Grim quickly ran up the final steps. Only then did he look around to get his bearings. Menials were fighting against menials, and at first sight he could make no sense of it. Then he realised that one group had forced their way into the keep, and amongst this band of menials was a human. She was easy to spot. Wearing a deep blue dress and cloak, she held aloft a staff with a glowing, pale blue orb on the end of it. Her mouth moved as if she were talking, but amongst the cacophony of the battle Grim could make out no words. Whatever she was saying, the menials about her were doing her bidding.
The enchantress, Grim realised. She has charmed the feeble-minded menials to do her bidding.
Opposing this invasion of the keep were Gurin, Simba, Assata and Lilith, with a second group of menials. Amongst both groups of menials were archers, whose arrows sailed tragically wide of each other. Lilith screamed at the underlings with her to ignore the enchantment, while the other three were attempting to cut a path through the charmed menials, no doubt with the aim of striking down the witch who controlled them.
‘Og-Grim-Dog?’ Assata shouted over, noticing their sudden arrival.
Gurin turned to look. ‘’Bout time. Give us a hand, will you?’ he said sourly.
‘Wait!’ Lilith shouted, her voice louder than Grim thought possible, stopping him in his tracks. ‘Kane and the others! I thought they would be attempting to rescue the princess?’
‘No,’ said Dog. ‘We’ve seen no sign of ‘em.’
Grim wondered about that. Clearly, Brother Kane and the other members of his party had separated from the enchantress. But if they hadn’t gone to the basement to rescue Borte, where were they? Then a thought struck him.
‘The crystal sword!’ he exclaimed.
Lilith’s eyes widened. The Dark Lord had shown them the room containing the weapon he called his bane. The one thing that could kill him. What if the adventurers had decided to kill the Dark Lord first, then free the princess? It was bold, but the more Grim thought about it, the more it sounded like a rather clever plan.
‘Stop them!’ Lilith shouted. ‘All of you! I will hold the enchantress off here until you are done. Be quick, your master is in danger!’
Wasting no time, Assata and the others disengaged from the turned menials. Grim ran ahead to the stairs that led up to the top floor of the keep. It was possible that Gurin and Simba knew of the room that the Dark Lord had shown to Grim and his brothers—a wooden stand in an otherwise empty room, with a crystal sword atop it. But maybe he hadn’t, in which case Og-Grim-Dog were the only ones who knew where it was.
He ran up the stairs, heard the welcoming sounds of the others pounding behind him. Then Simba was somehow ahead, the swift-footed dark elf gaining the top of the stairs and heading for the corridor.
Well, he’s definitely been shown the room, Grim decided.
He followed Simba into the expensively furnished corridor, his lungs bursting, Assata and Gurin with him now. The far end of the corridor was red with the blood of the two dead menials whose job had been to guard the door. The dark elf ignored the sight, making for the open door to the room. The door that the Dark Lord kept locked; the lock that only the Dark Lord had a key for.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway. Encased in metal from head to foot, it was already launching a gauntleted fist at the dark elf. For all his speed, it was too late for Simba to stop or change direction. The punch landed with a dull thud and the dark elf slumped to the floor, unmoving. Through the thin slot of his visor, the knight looked past Simba to the three-headed ogre coming down the corridor—Dog barking out a challenge—and shut the door.
The Dark Lord’s Bane
Grim didn’t stop, running at the door and twisting at the last moment, so that his hip and Dog’s shoulder slammed into it. The door gave way and he stumbled into the room. Og’s shoulder guard was struck heavily by a weapon and Grim found himself tottering over, unable to get his feet under him. He crashed into the wooden stand in the centre of the room and fell to the floor.
Og managed to get the palm of his hand onto the floor and push up, allowing Grim to get to his feet. He sensed figures moving around him. As his brothers re-armed, he focused on two combats: Assata fought against the armoured knight, trading blows against his sword and shield; while Gurin fended off a short spear wielded by a lanky human, who was likely the ranger Brother Kane had mentioned. The man’s reach was much longer than the dwarf’s, and Gurin was being forced backwards to the far wall.
Grim took a step forward to intervene, when Dog let out a warning bark. Spinning around, he saw a small human form darting away from Dog’s mace. The thief, Grim supposed—no doubt he had pick-locked their way into the room. In both hands he gripped a crystal sword. The Dark Lord’s bane.
In the corner of the room there was a fourth intruder. The cowl of his cloak covered his face, but Grim recognised him, nonetheless. Brother Kane.
A thud sounded behind them and this time Og shouted out a warning. Grim turned to see Assata sprawled on the floor. By the looks of it, she’d taken a blow from the metal clad knight’s shield rather than his sword. Og lashed out with his pike. The knight’s smooth mail deflected the blow, but at least it diverted the warrior’s attention to them, and away from the prone barbarian.
Grim knew they were in trouble. His allies had rapidly been taken out of the fight and he and his brothers would struggle if outnumbered.
The knight came at them, his shield pushing aside Og’s pike. He side-stepped Dog’s swinging mace and then his sword twisted in, Grim unable to avoid it as it pierced his chest mail and sank into muscle. Grim retreated, pulling free of the sword, though his back muscles tensed in anticipation of the crystal sword stabbing in from behind.
Instead, the sound of a struggle could be heard. Risking a glance, he saw that Brother Kane had one arm around the thief’s neck. In his opposite hand the cleric held a thin dagger—the thief’s grip about his wrist preventing him from using it. The man’s other hand was trying to wrench free of Brother Kane’s hold on him. The crystal sword now lay on the floor.
It seemed that everyone noticed the sword at the same time. A rush of bodies converged on the space, the adventurers from the Bureau desperate to regain the weapon, the Dark Lord’s servants equally desperate to prevent them.
The knight came for Og-Grim-Dog again. This time, Og used his pike as a defensive staff, keeping him at arm’s length. The knight’s sword-strike was met by Dog’s mace. Ordinarily, a blow from that mace would break an arm. The knight’s armour no doubt absorbed some of the damage, but still he lost his grip on his sword, his visored helmet watching it sail across the room, out of reach.