Black Hart

To Kill A King

Chapter 10 - The Ball at Axewood Palace

Eloi had certainly perked up considerably, mainly as he had always fancied slipping it to some bored baroness looking for a bit of rough. Tonight gave him that prospect, or at the very least would allow him to get bladdered and pork some serving wench. Eloi did not take to kindly to the administrations of the tailors.
"Feck off, and go and dandify that poof Jean-Paul D'Appisshead. I'm 'avin' none of this!"
Eloi would not allow them to measure him for new clothes and refused point-blank to change out of the clothes that he had frankly been wearing for the last six months.
"Why don't I mingle with the serving folks! I am more of their type and am used to their manner, and I 'ave a way with the ladies. If anything is afoot old Eloi will sniff it out."
Eloi took Akhan to one side.
"Know of any rich strumpets 'ere tonight who are of the bored housewife variety? His lordship not meeting up with 'er marital requirements, know what I mean?"
Eloi winked furiously and stuffed his dagger, hidden under his shirt, into his belt. He decided against taking anything else with him to the do, and as usual had considerable trouble with his underpants.

When the others left, arranging to meet back there in a couple of hours, Eloi had decided just to stay where he was, having spied the decanters on the shelf.
"Bath? New clothes! Sod that, it's Merrybuck time!"
It was about two hours, and a good decanter of charming brandy, later that Akhan strutted in, dressed up, to Eloi's eye at least, like a some faerie poof. Akhan found him already ensconced and halfway to his usual vantagepoint looking over the plains of oblivion.
"Can I interesht you in a good wine, Akhy-ma-boy?" Eloi asked, pouring him a goblet of wine.
He accepted graciously, and Eloi managed to ignore his warnings about him dropping his guard later on.
"Ahhhhh, don't worry - itsh ma natchural shtate, Akhy," he replied.
Akhan chuckled.

After a bath to remove the past days' grime, Jean-Paul headed downstairs to the now-familiar study, where he had arranged to meet the others. After a long debate with himself, he had decided to carry his sword in a ceremonial sheath, but believed it would be inappropriate to carry any other weapon or armour.
He strutted in to find everyone there except Bermen and Hamman. They were all dressed in their finery, bar Eloi, who was wearing the same clothes as always (and undoubtedly the same underwear). Eloi was absolutely gassed.
Bermen came in soon, followed by Hamman, who was dressed like a proud peacock in a sky blue suit with gold trims, a hat to match with a fine golden feather, knee-high black leather boots and his fashionable broadsword hanging from his side. Once everyone was settled, Akhan cleared his throat and they all quietened down.
"Alright," he said, "So everyone knows what they're doing?"
They nodded and grumbled, Eloi slurping his drink.
"So I'll take a control and co-ordinate role, moving between you," Akhan continued. "Bermen does Arganass, Eloi will take the kitchens and serving staff."
Eloi burped appreciatively.
"Mordekei takes Thoggin, J-P will try to find out about the events of the last few days, and Hamman, em well, exactly what will you do?"
Hamman smiled.
"Well since you seem to have left out our gracious host, I'll give the Count a look over."
Akhan nodded, and the others seemed happy too.
"Although," said Mordekei, "it may prove difficult, not to say suspicious, if we stick with these folk, who we don't really know too well, all night. I think we'll have to play it by ear at times."
They all agreed, and with a final toast set off on their separate ways.

The ballroom was on the west wing, and looked out through large glass doors and a patio onto an artificial lake within the grounds, all surrounded by the woods that continued all the way to the outer wall of the estate. With one look at the pompous bastards filling it, Eloi turned about and scurried down the back stairs to the warmth and mad furore of activity in the kitchens. He realised he was still carrying a bottle of port from Thoggin's study.
"Oooops, best return that. Not!"
The servants, cooks, kitchen boys, maids, were running about like headless kobolds - Eloi took a seat in the kitchen and waited for things to calm down, chatting to the servants as they ran past, telling bawdy jokes and slipping a few drinks to them when he could.
As time went on things seemed to settle down - music drifted in from upstairs as the ball began. Eloi was sure that one of the serving wenches kept giving him 'the eye' as she passed, a brief smile - not too pretty, but the requisite mumbo gazoombas for his lecherous tastes!
"The Olvenfolk are desperate with worry though," Patrach the butler told him as he poured him another drink.
"Eh? What? Sorry," Eloi replied, not listening to him as he mentally undressed the raven-haired serving girl.
"The children," he repeated. "You were asking if anything weird had happened and I was telling you about the missing children. At least three have gone over the past week. The strange thing is, the Axewood is totally an Olven place - some even believe the woods to be sentient. It would be very difficult for any stranger to get in or out, never mind steal their children, without being noticed!"
"So what?" thought Eloi. "How about them knockers!"
Eloi let him prattle on, and he soon lost interest. As he finished the port, he managed to rescue a bottle of wine. "Blech! Expensive rubbish!"
As Eloi grimaced, he felt the heat of someone close behind, and a woman's voice whispered in his ear. "In the linen cupboard at the end of the hall, in two minutes."
Without turning around he know it was her, and as he thought of what was on offer he quickly sobered up. Quietly Eloi moved to find the required cupboard. Stepping into the darkness, he was there but a minute when she came in, and without a word got straight down to business.
Ten sweaty minutes later, she was grasping for a drink from Eloi's bottle.
"You ask a lot of questions M'Lord. Did I answer any for you?" she asked jokingly.
Eloi smiled an unseen smile, although he could now see her as his infravision started to work.
"Perhaps I can answer some more - for the right fee. Ten Merkke and I'll show you Axewood Palace's best kept secret," she offered.
"Intriguing!" thought Eloi.
He counted ten gold pieces from his pouch, and palmed them to her. He watched her bite each one, confirming their substance.
She reached over towards Eloi, and he thought she was up for round two, but then she reached behind and he heard a click.
"A secret door!"

Akhan removed the worn leather eye-patch, pausing a moment to regain his balance as his vision blurred momentarily. As he stood there, as the crowds arrived, a voice drifted over his shoulder.
"A fine spectacle, Master Bherruliann, but a nightmare to guard over," Thoggin declared.
Akhan glanced around at him before returning to the view.
"The woodlands," he told him. "Of course!"
"I don't recall ever telling him my family name!" Akhan thought.
"I tried to get Fimuth to cut them back a bit - too much cover," Thoggin continued. "But you know the Count - wouldn't have any of it! You Olvenfolk and your damned trees."
Akhan sensed the sarcasm in his voice. The Lord High Mareschal chatted a while, and it was clear that he was ever the diplomat as he avoided staring at the Eye.
He introduced Akhan to one of his Mareschals - a stern-looking dwarf, a fighter by his poor dress sense, by the name of Darrak Thurnsyte. The two had little to talk about and soon Akhan found himself wandering about the room again.
"Pity I'm working - the totty's fine tonight!" he thought as he gazed at the fine womenfolk.
He saw Count Fimuth, and his wife, entertaining on the far side of the floor. She was quite probably one of the most beautiful women Akhan had ever seen in his life! In a regal sort of way! Rumour had it that Fimuth, ever the rake, was cheating on her at one point, as was the human way, not the Olven.
"What a fool!" Akhan thought in disdain.
Soon the King arrived, with all due pomp and ceremony. Akhan could see that Bermen had managed to latch on to Baron Arganass, and Mordekei was nearing the Lord High Mareschal, although he seemed a difficult one to pin down. Hamman was also having real trouble getting near to Fimuth at all. Eloi was nowhere to be seen - thankfully!

The woman led Eloi into a low, narrow passageway.
"They are all over this place, leading from one end to another, with peep holes and doors all over the place," she said. "This way leads to the King's own chambers!"
"Aha - the perfect viewpoint!" thought Eloi.
He mentally noted the twists, turns and side-passages. A vertical stepladder took them up two floors, and she opened another hidden door before stopping.
"This one goes on to the Count's chambers," she said, pointing to the blank wall ahead, presumably another secret panel. She slid aside a peephole cover, then sat back to allow Eloi a view.
Looking in, he saw a huge room, indeed a room fit for a King. Inside he could see a couple of Royal Guards lounging about in the vestibule area.
"Now," she continued, "I have to get back. Walk me back safely and it's all yours to spy on who you like."

As Jean-Paul entered the ballroom, Akhan was talking to Thoggin, and some dwarf he did not recognise. Mordekei was speaking to Hamman. He wandered over to some nobles on the far side of the room, and started talking with them. About an hour later, as the place started to fill up, Jean-Paul heard a story that interested him and rushed over to tell Akhan.
"Nothing much to do with the King, I suspect," he informed Akhan, giving the Eye, the bright green emerald that sat in place of Akhan's right eye, a good look over. "But apparently they have had some kidnap problems in the Axewood itself of late. Children it seems, at least three have gone over the past week."
"The weird thing is, the Axewood is totally an Olven place - some even believe the woods to be sentient. It would be very difficult for any stranger to get in or out, never mind steal their children, without being noticed!"
Akhan said nothing, but Jean-Paul had the feeling that he reckoned it had little to do with their task. He excused himself to go and talk with Bermen, who was walking over from the company of a man who could only be this Baron Arganass, from his one arm.
Jean-Paul started to head over to Mordekei, and jumped as there was an almighty crash.
"Let go of me you bastards" One and all! I'll have my revenge on Kimbertos Skotti - mine will be avenged!"
Baron Arganass' drinking and his temper seemed to have had the better of him, as four of the Royal Guardsmen dragged him away from the King's presence toward the door. He seemed to calm down, and they unhanded him, remaining watchful as they do so.
Jean-Paul remained at the ready, being very close to the Baron.
"This fool is completely out of control!" he thought.
In a calmer voice, Arganass declared to the assembled guests, "Yes, I am drunk! But at least that will wear off - and you, dear King, will always be a coward! You are not worthy to lick the shoes of the lowest of my men who died for you!"
The Guards, having had enough, grabbed him again and started marching him out, Jean-Paul trying to force through the crowd towards him as he was summarily ejected.
The music restarted and everyone began dancing again.

As Eloi retraced their steps, they had reached the bottom of the ladder when strange sounds met his ears.
"Shhh!" he said to the clumsy wench.
The sounds continued, from the left. They were slightly rhythmical.
"Where is that passage, to the left?"
She shrugged, saying, "The wine cellar, I guess. Why?"
Eloi wandered closer, intrigued, and follow the passage round to the left, hearing the titty fairy following clumsily behind. A right, then another left turn, and the passageway ended. Scanning the wall, he found another peephole cover to the left, and slid it across, as that seemed to be where the noise came from.
The sight he beheld raised the hackles on his rough, filthy neck.

After ten minutes, Mordekei made his way over to Akhan.
The dancing had starte, taking up the centre of the room, so he had moved over to haunt the refreshment tables.
Mordekei picked up some food, ignoring the drink.
"Well, the gnome's occupied right now, but I was just talking with the King's Chamberlain, Lominstrall."
He nodded towards a half-elf standing at the edge of the dance floor near to the King, who had a disturbed look on his face.
"Arrogant bastard," Mordekei continued.
"Not unusual for us Olvens," Akhan pointed out, grinning proudly.
"A touch too much ambition for my liking," Mordekei said. "Mind you that probably goes for half these nobles and politicians. Or that one over there."
He nodded towards an elderly man in fine robes, boring the Lord High Mareschal loudly.
"Mind you, I suppose the King's Advocate, Lord Sheriff of all Keoland, is entitled to a bit of hautiness," Akhan commented.
"I'm certainly not going to argue with him," Mordekei retorted.
"On a more serious note," Mordekei continued, "It seems there was an incident here a few days ago. An attempt was made on the life of Fimuth. Apparently one of Thoggin's Mareschals is tracking the assailant now, but rumour would have it he was a Scarlet Brotherhood assassin!"
"The Brotherhood!" thought Akhan, a look of bewilderment creeping across his face.
"Where did this happen?"
"Right here in the palace grounds," he said. "I think this scared Thoggin into action somewhat. The fact that someone obviously got around his defences and close enough to the nation's second most powerful noble to make a serious attempt to kill him upset the gnome. The timing of the attack was also immaculate, as the Count was alone at the time, unusually."
"An inside job then?" Akhan asked rhetorically.
"Hmmm," Mordekei mused.
They drifted apart, and Akhan managed to wind up dancing with some very eligible young Keoish noble women - obviously taken aback by his charm and wit. His eyepiece became the centre of conversation, and Akhan seemed to be something of a hero, a darling of the courtiers. He was slightly worried that he could not see Bermen, and wondered if he had followed the Baron from the ballroom.
Hamman was also nowhere to be seen, and he had lost sight of Thoggin for some while now. As he left the dance floor, Count Fimuth beckoned him over to his side.
"Congratulations dear Akhan," he said. Akhan had heard that Fimuth was a very informal person, not one for ceremony, and the only time he had ever spoken to him, before going off to battle Lolth he seemed incredibly easy to get on with. More like one of the lads than the most powerful man in Keoland, after the King that was!
"Having faced Lolth myself in the Vaults, I can appreciate the enormity of your task, you and your companions, my friends one and all, are heroes beyond repayment or praise, and I salute you sir."
"Hey! Maybe he ain't so bad after all!" Akhan thought vainly.
He feigned embarrassment as Fimuth casually saluted him, and his neighbouring courtiers gave a brief round of applause.
"I would ask one more favour of you, my friend," he asked.
"Anything your Grace," Akhan replied.
He smiled.
"Please, Fimuth will do. It is not much of a task. My wife would like to dance, and I have hurt my leg in hunting today. I would not entrust her happiness to some worthless scoundrel, so I was wondering if you would do her the honour of a dance?"
Akhan's jaw almost dropped.
She looked at Akhan shyly from aside.
"It would be no task, your…em, Fimuth. It would be an honour and a pleasure."
She held out her hand, and he led her to the dance floor as the next dance began.
"Thank the Gods my sisters made me dance with them all those years!" he thought.
As they danced, Akhan had the feeling that the Countess would make the clumsiest of dancers feel graceful, such was her skill.
"I have been watching you, sir Akhan," she declared quietly.
Akhan gulped noticeably.
"You do not seem to be enjoying yourself much," she said. "A very serious look on your face for most of the night."
He smiled, almost in relief.
"The past fortnight has left any unanswered questions in my mind, milady. I ponder on them too often I fear. I shall try harder to show my pleasure on this fine night."
She smiled and he felt his knees go weak.
As the dance ended, she leaned closer and whispered in his ear.
"I would that I see you again quite soon, master Akhan. My maid shall be in touch."
Stunned, he broke out into a cold sweat as she glided off elegantly.
"See me? Maid servant?" he thought.
Focussing his thoughts, as she walked off Akhan used the powers of the Eye to read her thoughts.
In her soft, honey-sweet voice he heard her think.
"He is everything my husband is not. I fear I am in love - I cannot allow it, but I cannot resist it either. Damn that bastard, I will have my happiness!"
Akhan's heart was beating like a running stag.
As he came to his senses, he looked around and saw that both the King and Fimuth were gone!
Scanning the room, Mordekei and Hamman were moving quickly over to him. Jean-Paul also noticed this and began to walk over.
None of their suspects, neither Thoggin, Fimuth nor Arganass were in the room!

A cloaked and hooded figure, its robe of Scarlet silk, stood directly in front of Eloi, its back turned it was partly blocking his view of the rest of the room.
As he moved aside, beyond the ornate lectern on which a huge wizard's tome lay open, he saw a massive creature standing in the middle of a coloured circle on the floor, with magical writings about it.
The beast was about eight feet tall, and the same wide, with bulging with muscles, and black pits for eyes, horns on its head and 2 foot-long fangs protruding from its mouth. As well as thickly muscled arms it had towering bat-like wings. In its huge hands it held an ancus-like weapon in one, and a jagged-toothed club in the other.
Eloi had seen one before, in the lands of Iuz. Even at a distance then, ihad scared him witless - it was a Pit Fiend!!!
One of the deadliest devils in the Nine Hells! He was witnessing a summoning!
"Shadrach, messuleth, nadrach vellerem dissatim, Bael, Belial..." the hooded figure chanted.
Eloi's head spun with questions. He saw a man on the other side of the room in the shadows. He squinted and strained to see him in the dim light of the candles. He stood agaog as theman's face came into the light, and he recognised him.
"By the Gods!! Shabass T'lann!"
He too was dressed in a scarlet hooded robe, like the mage with his back to Eloi. To Shabass's left he saw see three small cages with something squirming within.
The chanting stopped!
"Baalthrazep!" the mages voice boomed out to the devil. "It has been three days since we summoned you. I beseech you to submit to our will, and claim your reward as shown."
The mage signalled toward to the cages. A glint of golden hair in one, and Eloi suddenly realised, as it started crying, that it was a baby! An Olven baby!
There was a movement by the far wall, ans a scuttling rat moves into the light.
Then, before his eyes, the rat grew, stretching and growing to a human-like form. A Wererat!
A gasp from beside him, and Eloi instinctively raised his hands to the wench's mouth to cover her cry. She was absolutely terrified - frozen to the spot, shaking and gasping for breath.
"Masther," the wererat hissed. "Masther, the item you required of me".
He stepped forward and handed a small bone locket to the mage. As the mage reached forward, Eloi saw his hand uncovered - the fine-boned hand of an elf or a woman.
The ratman then moved back to the corner, where he picked up a bundle of clothes, and a sword, and begun to put them on. The clothes were the uniform of a Royal Guardsman!
The mage uttered one unpronounceable word, and the devil stepped forward out of the circle, uttering something fearful in his dark tongue.
"Do your bidding, Baalthrazep," Shabass T'Lan demands. "The King will be in his chambers changing now."
"The King!" thought Eloi.
"Kill him now!" the mage demanded.

Mordekei reached Akhan first.
"They left by the back door, we could not follow. The King, Fimuth and a few guards."
Suddenly, Akhan's heart started beating fast again, as words drifted across the crowded room to him. It was not the words that caught his attention but the voice - it was the voice of the man who met the Drow in the forest at the Battle, when he lost his eye.
Spinning about, he searched the crowd frantically, listening out for the voice, but it was gone!
Hamman and Jean-Paul arrive.
"J-P and I will search the building. Why don't you and Mordekei look outside, the party seems to be spilling out there anyway?"
Looking about, Akhan recognised Zarn Varnt, the mage who gave him the Eye. Also in the room were Lominstrall, and the King's Advocate, plus several other minor nobles he had met through the evening. His mind still elsewhere, Akhan nodded and turned speedily, following Mordekei out, and then passing him in the hallway.

For a moment, Eloi stood in awe. Then, as the devil headed for the wooden door to the room he came to his senses.
Pushing past the wench, who was rooted to the spot, he ran back through the twisting passageways. After a few turns, he come to a dead-end, and realised he had come the wrong way. From outside you could hear screaming and shouting.
Turning back he found the ladder, and rushed up it. He was quite unused to his exertion!
"I'm sweating like a fecking Ketish wrestler's jockstrap!"
There was a horrendous boom outside as he reached the end of the passageway at the secret panel. There was a dreadful screaming, and a few minor explosions, coming from the other side. As he opened the peephole, the sight was even worse than the last one!

As Akhan reached the front door, Bermen was coming up the steps. He spoke urgently, but in a whisper.
"Thoggin is out there with some of his men, invisible for the most part I think. It seems there has been an intruder on the grounds, and one of Fimuth's guards was found, stabbed from behind."
"Let's split up then, see if we can't help them find him," Akhan suggested.
The others agreed, and Mordekei went inside to fetch a torch for them to see by.
Akhan left them, and as he stepped into the darkened woods, past the revellers and those leaving by coach and carriage, he staggered slightly as his eyes adjusted to see with his ultravision from the Eye.
He moved quietly through the woods, listening for every little sound, moving towards anything hopeful. There was a lot of shouting and screaming coming from the palace, and, after he heard an explosion, Akhan decided to head back. He was but a dozen yards from the edge of the woods when he saw a figure running towards the woods - it was short in stature, lean, and running with a crouch and a strange gait.
Its body was covered from head to toe in dark fur, under the uniform of a Royal Guard, and in its elongated hands it carried a shortsword. Its face was hairy with a pointed nose, beady black eyes and triangular ears atop his head.
A Ratman!

Jean-Paul and Hamman headed over to the door where the King had left from, but Royal Guards blocked their way. No matter how they remonstrated, they would not let them pass. Eventually the King's Chamberlain, Lominstrall, came over and asked them not to persist, explaining they could not go that way for security reasons.
Heading out the crowded ballroom, they entered the main hall. There was much confusion outside - apparently they believed there to be an intruder in the grounds.
Suddenly there was screaming in the hallway to their left, and a few muffled explosions, followed by more shouting.
Starting to turn to the noise, Jean Paul shouted to Hamman, "I suggest that we perhaps head towards the explosions the most certainly do not sound part of the party and I fear that something is most definitely afoot. No doubt our comrades have heard the commotion and are as we speak heading towards it too!"
As he ran, the paladin drew his sword, keeping a watchful eye for the other members of the party as he went. His fear was now that the assassin was within, and he was deaparate to locate the whereabouts of the King, asking any courtiers or guards he passed.
Then, as they came up to the stairs leading down to the kitchens, they saw four of Fimuth's Palace Guards on the floor. Weapons drawn, their own blood covering them from head to toe, and spilling about the floor, the guards were most definitely dead!
The blood trail from them, and more screaming, led them further along the corridor, and both men burst into a sprint, nitcing there were others runnig behind them. Ahead, there were the sounds of more running and shouting, and as they reached the stairs up to their own quarters, there was a mage-type crouching on the stairs, nursing a very serious gash to his stomach.
"By the Hells, a Devil, a Devil, a Pit Fiend here in the palace!" he screeched in a very panicked way.

Akhan followed him as quietly as possible, then suddenly, in the smallest of clearings, he stopped.
Akhan's ultravision from the Eye showed that he raised his sword, and then he could make out a figure in the bushes ahead, although he had difficulty making out the person's form as the person's cloak seemed dull and hid that person well, possibly a magical cloak or Olven cloak.
As the figure moved forward, quiet as a thief, the Ratman lowered his sword in recognition!
The figure raised an arm to point at the Ratman, and a soft whispering hum met Akhan's ears as the Ratman clutched his chest, falling to the ground. Akhan moved slightly, and the cloaked figure glanced at him before turning into the woods and moving away.
The Ratman was writhing in agony on the ground - he had an object sticking out of his chest! A Drow crossbow bolt! Akhan suddenly felt very sick!
Without thinking, he moved in, bending over the dying beast. As he got close, he heard what he was murmuring in his death-throes.
"He who never sleeps shall…urrrgghh...avenge me and mine! A curse to Fimuth and his kind..."
As he exhaled his last breath, the Ratman's form changed back to human, and Akhan saw before him the face of a Royal Guardsman whom he recalled seeing earlier that night.
There was a crunch behind him, and Akhan whirled around to see an Olven Palace Guard in full armour, with a longsword levelled at him.
"Hmm, so here I am in the middle of the woods when there's an intruder, and I'm covered in the blood of a Royal Guardsman who is dead at my feet!" he thought.
"To me!" the elf cried out suddenly. "To me! Assassin, to me!"

Rushing past the mage, they followed the sounds of men shouting, screams of pain and a horrendous roar, the likes of which Jean-Paul had never heard, and never wished to hear again. He noticed that Hamman had drawn his pistol from his belt and cocked it.
Jean-Paul ran along the corridor, and round to the left, where he knew he would find the King and Fimuth's suites.
There, lying in the hallway was a dead Royal Guard, of the best soldiery in Keoland.
Turning into the corridor leading to the King's room, Jean-Paul saw a mage at the King's door, casting a spell into his room thorugh an opened doorway. The horrendous screeching, shouts and cries were coming out of this room, along with dull thudding and crashing noises.
As he reached the mage, Jean-Paul saw the awesome sight within.
In the bedroom, a massive devil, a Pit Fiend by all descriptions, stood twelve-foot tall, and battling three Royal Guardsmen and a thief-like man who has just dealt it a severe blow. One guardsman struck it, and the creature appeared off-put by the blow, missing the other men. As he ran in, he noticed three dead Guardsmen lying on the bed, and a dead mage there. The bed was on fire and it looked as though someone had cast some fire-based magic there.

Bermen moved slowly but steadily, and almost completely silently, through the woods. He turned to Mordekei, who had been crashing behind him, and told him to douse the torch he carried.He picked out the movement in the woods to his left, and, running faster than Mordekei could keep up with, dodged through the bushes to catch up with whoever was there.
As he approached a small clearing, he slowed down, and could hear the lumbering Mordekei getting ever closer behind. As he stepped forward, he saw his quarry - a tall thin man, with distinct features. Sueloise features!
"Shabass T'Lann!"
He did not appear to have noticed Bermen, but as the ranger put his hand to the hilt of his sword, the Suel clasped something around his neck, and in a twist of shimmering air, was gone! Sword drawn, Bermen sprinted to where he had been, shouting and screaming out as he darted about, swinging his sword wildly, looking for the Suel.
Mordekei relit the torch, and Bermen could easily pick up the Suel's tracks, then noticed that they stopped exactly where he last saw him.
"Nothing," he said to Mordekei. "His tracks are gone!"
They could hear from the voices coming their way that Bermen's cries had caught someone's attention, as intended.
The commotion in the Palace had also, if anything, increased. Mordekei started to cast a spell as a wizened Dwarf, dressed in ceremonial armour, and with a seriously nasty looking warhammer at his side, trundled into the clearing glancing around.
"What is going on, man?" he demanded bluntly.
Bermen recognised him as someone who was talking with Thoggin earlier, probably one of his Mareschals.
In Dwer, Bermen replied, "A Brotherhood assassin was here a moment ago. He disappeared, maybe invisible, and his tracks have gone."
Mordekei continued his spell as the Dwarf shouted out, "Spread out, there may be an invisible assassin in the woods. Pair up and shout at first sight!"
The men approaching the woods started to split up into pairs and run into the woods. Bermen could also see a group of them turn away and run back to the Palace. Up in one of the rooms he could see flashes and hear pops and bangs coming from there. It seemed to be somewhere near to the bedrooms, and he suddenly realised it was in the area of the Royal suites where Fimuth and the King resided.
"What is he doing?" the Dwer asked, nodding at Mordekei who continued to move around slowly, his eyes clenched shut in concentration, muttering arcane words as he did so.
Bermen shrugged, saying, "Some kind of magic I guess."
Mordekei opened his eyes.
"He's not invisible. Or if he is he is far away from here now. I think he has teleported or something like that"
"But to where?" the Dwarf asked.
A few men, dressed more for adventuring than an official function, came into the clearing, accompanied by Thoggin and Wissig Arturrsen.
"What's going on, Darrak?" Thoggin asked the Dwarf in fluent Dwer. Darrak summarised what had happened.
"You men," he said, pointing to some of the others, "Fan out and help the Guardsmen find this assassin. The rest of..."
Thoggin's voice trailed off as he looked back at the Palace, noticing the flashes and bangs in the Royal Suites.
"By my mother's sacred fucking beard," he muttered in Gnomish. "You men," he shouted, his voice rising to a scream. "Get back to the King, now!"
Without pausing, the three remaining men sprinted off, with Wissig, Thoggin and Darrak close behind.
From behind them, Bermen and Mordekei heard far off cries, someone shouting, "To me! To me! Assassin, to me!"

As the first guard lowered his sword, Akhan was thankful that his companion had recognised him.
Akhan stooped back over the wererat, happier now that he was in human form. He quickly searched his body, easily finding a leather thong around his neck. He recoiled slightly as he pulled it from under his mail coat, as attached to the other end was a mummified hand!
Coninuing the search, he next looked to a belt pouch, in which he found a few silver coins and a bunch of long twiglets, one of which had a very chewed appearance.
At that, Bermen, closely followed by Mordekei, ran into the clearing. Akhan looked up at them.
"Bermen, Mord," he said. "There's an assassin loose on the grounds. A Drow."
It was then that they noticed the dead Royal Guardsman at Akhan's feet, with a Drow hand crossbow bolt in his chest. Bermen recognised the guard from earlier in the ballroom, as he was one of the ones who helped eject Baron Arganass.
Looking down at the dead Guard, Mordekei said, "What happened to him? And what does the Drow look like?"
As Bermen bent over to examine the nearby tracks, Mordekei brought over the torch to let him see better. The tracks were clear.
"One person," Bermen stated. "About a hundred pounds in wieght, slender feet."
"Probably an elf or a woman, by the looks of things. I'd guess about five feet tall." He thought to himself.
Bermen followed his path, into the woods, and the trail was clear from broken branches and footprints. It headed out for the perimeter, then turned back in a wide circle, headed for the Palace. Akhan soon caught up. Bermen surmised that a stranger would likely be lost here, as the trees blocked out the light of the Palace. Whoever this was knew the area well!
Approaching the Palace, the noise continued from all the people running about.
Suddenly, they came across a discarded robe - scarlet silk in colour, by an old, gnarled oak tree. The trail ended completely there. The robe was, as Bermen had predicted, for a person about five feet tall, perhaps slightly taller, and of moderate build. Looking it over, he found a long, blond hair in the hood!
"There's something going on at the Palace," Mordekei said. "Maybe we better get back. The King may be in danger!"

As Jean-Paul rushed to the attack, Hamman shouted, "The King!"
He was pointing to the right, where the King lay, bleeding, and straddled across the back of some strange, short creature, who was speedily scurrying into a small hidden panel in the wall.
As it crawled into the dark hole, the panel shut, and Hamman raised his pistol to fire at the creature!
The warning screamed out in Jean-Paul's brain. "He'll hit the King!" The paladin pushed down his hand just as there was a loud bang.
Hamman drew him a crazed look, but the paladin retorted, "You'd have hit the King!"
Quickly he turned back to see the melee continue behind them.
"Hamman, we must pursue the foul beast who has kidnapped the King! Your gun will be of greater use against an earthbound foe so I suggest you go after the King. I will remain here and aid our fellows destroy this accursed daemon from hell."
Jean-Paul slapped Hamman on the back.
"Good luck my friend I hope to see you again if we both live through this day"
Sword drawn, Jean-Paul edged towards the madssive beast.
As Hamman ran over to the secret panel, the Pit Fiend appeared to be casting some sort of spell.

Eloi noticed the blood trickling from the corner of the King's mouth onto his hand. The bed he had pulled him from was slowly on fire, and one of the fighting guards appeared somewhat scorched, as did the devil.
Eloi took one final gulp of air started quickly heading back for the safety of the secret passage.
Instinctively, almost involuntarily, glancing back the Pit Fiend appeared badly wounded by a now-visible thief's blow, but was fast enough to strike first. Three Royal Guardsmen and the thief somehow managed to evade its blows. As the Guardsmen attacked it with their swords and spears, one of them struck a lucky, but devastating, blow. The thief threw a small iron ball object at it, but this bounced harmlessly off the creature.
The King's breath was barely discernible, despite his head being next to the crawling Eloi's, but it was still there! As he entered the secret panel, someone in the room shouted, "The King!"
Eloi pulled the panel shut and struggled under his weight to stand up. As he did so there was a blast from inside the room, and a missile burst through the door, passing between his legs and striking the wall behind.
"Shite - time to get out of here!" he thought.
Pushing through the next panel, rushing as best he could, panting and heaving as he went, somehow, Eloi seemed to be completely sober now! Ten yards down, the passage jinked to the left, and they came to another dead end. Searching about, Eloi noticed the hidden peephole, and, putting down the King, he slid it back.
He was looking into another fine room, and in this one he saw a Palace Guard, in Fimuth's colours, standing with his back to him, looking out a door which was slightly ajar.
Finding the secret door, he pushed it open, rushing into the room and rising to his feet. As he did so, the King sighed out a breath he had heard often before. A dying breath!
Eloi turned to the Guard, who was pointing a fine and sharp-looking spear at him, and yelling, "Halt in the name of the Count!"
He appeared a bit hesitant as he glanced at the King's body on the bed. The hellacious noise from elsewhere in the building continued.

Jean-Paul felt the awesome aura of fear around it, almost overcoming him with despair, and one of the Guardsmen ran off from the beast, his eyes full of terror, leaving a space for him to attack. He had never understood those who ran from battle, but this was no cowardice - he too could feel the magical fear emanating from it.
Its spell finished, the blows of the others were glancing off its iron hide.
Seizing his opportunity, and screaming, "D'Appignon!", Jean-paul plunged his sword into its thick neck, hacking off part of one of its leathery wings as he did so. The beast roared, and from behind, fiery white bolts of magic plunged into it. They seemed to have had no effect at all, and indeed some of its earlier wounds now seemed to be healing, reminding him of the troll in the forest at Edalsvell.
Suddenly the air shimmered to his left, and glancing over, he was horrified to see two creatures form out of thin air - more devils! These were different, smaller, but still over seven feet high, and without weapons, although the barbs covering their body, horns, tusk, claws and a spiked tail seemed to make up for this.
Barbed Devils!
Immediately, one of them ran from the room, the other rushing to this monster's aid.

"Woooooaaah there boy! Put the pointy thing down will you, unearthly forces have tried to assassinate the King. I managed to get the King from his chambers whilst the foul beastie was occupied and have tried to bring him to safety. Alas I fear that it is already too late and that the King has not got long to live. We must find a healer at all costs, the magician from my party, Mordekei or even that fool Paladin Jean-Paul D'Appingnon would do."
Ignoring the youthful guard, Eloi placed the King down gently on the bed.
"We must carry the King further from his chambers and to a healer. It would be a dark day for us all if the King were to die." Eloi pointed out to him.
"Anyways," thought Eloi. "There's bound to quite a reward for the hero that saved the King!"

The Guard looked flustered, then stammered, "Wait here, I'll get the priest!"
As he ran out, Eloi heard the shouting in the King's chambers nearby continue, perhaps even increase. There was much shouting and yelling, and more blood-curdling screams. If Eloi didn't know better he'd have sworn that there were more than one of the beasts in there.
A quick check revealed that the King's heart had now stopped too!
An unexpected click behind him, and Eloi spun around to see someone emerge from the secret panel he had come out of. As his pistol preceded him, he realised it was Hamman!
"El...Eloi!" he said, shocked by his discovery. "Zagyg's beard, Eloi, I nearly shot you man!"
"You're fucking telling me!" he thought, tactfully not revealing his thoughts to the duellist.
"The King," Eloi told him. "He's stopped breathing, Hamman. Can you do anything?"
As he shook his head, the Guard returned, with a priest dressed in yellow robes, bearing the Golden-sun holy symbol that shows him to be a cleric of Pelor, God of the Sun, Strength, Healing and Light.
As he bent over the King, his face seemed familiar to Eloi, but he could not remember where from. This made him suspicious, until he realised that he had seen this man in the Temple Hospital in Niole Dra, after his encounter with the Ogre Mage!
The priest began to cast a spell, and Eloi found himself praying to any god that would listen for the King's health!
"Please, let him live - so I can claim my reward!"
As the priest finished his spell, the King's body lurched, and he coughed blood from his mouth, before taking in a long, sharp breath.
"He lives!" said the young soldier.
Suddenly the guardsman screamed, clutching at his chest, then flew off to the side, revealing the creature that attacked him.
Fire red, it stood more than seven feet tall, with vicious fangs, horns on its bony head, sharp talons on either hand and a wicked barbed tail swishing from side to side anxiously - another of the creatures Eloi had seen before in the lands of Iuz, a Barbed Devil.
The Guardsman was unconscious or dead, and the Priest gasped, arising from tending to the King to see this sight. Hamman raised his pistol to face the creature, his other hand drawing a maine gauche.
"Oh for fuck sake! Another bloody beastie pissed off at the King or sumthin'" cried Eloi.
As it lumbered around to face them, he called to the priest. "Do you have powers to turn these things? Cause if you do I suggest you do it now or we may all be lost!"
The Priest stepped forward and thrust his holy symbol at the devil. "Back, devil, get back from the light!" he declared.
The devil snarled a toothy grin and swiped at the priest. The first clawed hand missed, but the second grabbed his head and the devil lunged in, biting deep into the priest's shoulder, turning his yellow robes crimson with blood as the he screamed in agony.
Hamman lets fire his pistol at almost point-blank range, but Eloi could see the bullet fly off the creature's hide, embedding itself in the nearby wall.
Eloi pull the Doors from his underpants and threw them onto the wall, saying the command word, and in an instant they formed. It had been a long time, and he had almost forgotten how beautiful they were.
As he fished around for the key, Eloi noticed the Palace Guard, badly injured, trying to pull himself to his feet. Hamman had dropped his pistol, and was drawing his broadsword with blinding speed. The priest was totally unarmed, and seemed to be preparing to cast a spell.
With brief eye contact, Hamman shouted, "Eloi, by the Gods help us, man!"
Eloi unlocked the door and opens them.
"Quickly we must save the King, trust me, and enter through these doors."
Eloi grabbed the King and pulled him through the doors. He waited at the entrance, as the priest ran in, followed by Hamman who backed his way into the dooorway as the devil finished off the Guardsman.
Once they were within, Eloi closed the double doors with a resounding bang, and locked htem immediately.
For a moment all was silent.
Hamman and the priest looked about bemusedly, unable to fathom how Eloi had conjured this sanctuary.
"I apologise for not helping in the fight, but I felt it of greater importance to save the King." He explained. "I thought that if I could take him to a place where that beast could not go then he would be safe. This is such a place. It is a magical relic that I acquired in my travels. It creates a home away from home, which is tailored to the requirements of its owner. I spend quality vacation time here, when I have the time, but for the moment this seems to suit our needs just fine and will allow the priest time to save the King's life, and allow our noble King's guardsmen to destroy that creature."
Suddenly reminded of the wounded King, the priest rushed over and started to tend his wounds.
Hamman shook his head, a corny smile across his face.
"You are full of surprises Eloi Brand. But I cannot deny your style!"

With one swipe of its awesomely muscled arm, the Pit Fiend sent one Guardsman flying across the room. As he tried to get up, half stunned, the Barbed Devil impaled him with its spiked tail and he collapsed to the floor, dead.
As he thrust in vain at this monster, Jean-Paul sensed others entering the room. Four more Guardsmen and another two men dressed like adventurers ran in, although one of the Guardsmen turned tail and ran immediately.
The thief-type behind the Pit Fiend had cut it again, but was rewarded by a crashing blow from its jagged club, leaving a deep wound in his chest. As someone entered the fight to Jean-paul's left side, he was surprised to see the man raise his legs in a blinding kick, striking the Devil, and apparently causing it hurt. Seeing an opening, he thrust his sword deep and fast, badly wounding the beast.
As he pulled back to strike again, the Pit Fiend's ancus connected with his head, sending Jean-Paul reeling to the ground. It was just a superficial blow, but enough to make his head spin as he stood up again.
The Pit Fiend was scribing some weird sigil in the air, and fearing its effects, Jean-Paul let out his war-cry again, launching himself at the beast with all his might. His blade was a blur through the air, and it hacked off one of the monster's tusk-like fangs as he buried it deep into the left side of its face. In an instant, as the blows from the others still fighting against it rained down upon it, the Devil was fading away, into nothingness, returning to the Hell from whence it came.
Jubilant, it was a moment before the paladin remembered the other Devil, and despite being exhausted, Jean-Paul was disappointed when it fell under a spraying magical cold that emanated from the mage's fingertips.

As they reached the Palace, the King's Chamberlain, Lominstrall, cames over from the right.
"What is going on?" he demanded of Bermen.
"You know as much as us, Lominstrall," Akhan answered, as if to make a point. "Best get inside before you end up being attacked too."
Bermen glanced suspiciously at Lominstrall, who was just over five feet tall, half-Olven, with long blond hair. However, as a Palace Guard passed them, he realised that this description fitted perhaps half of the people in the grounds at that time, being a predominatnly Olven area!
The thought seemed to shock Lominstrall and he scurried off inside quickly.
They entered the Palace to a scene of devastation. There were dead and wounded, mostly soldiery, lying in the hallway everywhere. There was still a commotion going on upstairs, and they quickly rushed up towards the Royal suite, only half listening to those they passed, who were talking, or screaming, or babbling, about massive devils.

Jean-Paul turned to the fighter who had kicked the Pit Fiend, who now seemed to be taking control of the situation.
"I am Sir Jean-Paul Pascal D'Appignon," he announced to the man. "I am a Knight of the Holy Shielding, sir, and must tell you that the King has been abducted through that secret passage there."
He pointed to the panel in the wall, where Hamman had left the room.
"My comrade, Hamman has given chase and I hope he will catch the creature before any further harm befalls the king.I would suggest that we follow him into the passage and try to find them both. Do you have knowledge of these passageways and where they lead?"
The stranger shook his head in disdain. "I am Zarryon, one of Thoggin's men."
Perhaps without realising he also nodded towards the thief-type who backstabbed the devil, now recovering his metal ball.
"Lead the way, good sir!" he told Jean-Paul.
The magic-user entered the room as he stooped down to enter the secret door. One of the Royal Guardsmen handed him a lantern, and he peered inside. The passage led off to the left, but there was an open secret door to the right. Jean-Paul saw a glint of gold there, about ten feet on, and waddling in to it he found it was a gold piece.
"Nice one, Hamman!" he thought.
Moving on, he found another coin further on, then another as the passage turned first left, then right. After a couple of minutes he came to a blank wall, but stopped as he heard shouting and roaring on the other side. He quickly checked for a secret panel, and found the catch, again having to stoop to enter this new room. There in front of him was the other Barbed Devil, chewing on the head of a Palace Guard it had killed.
Quickly drawing his sword, Jean-Paul rushed to the attack, catching the creature unawares.
It dropped the dead guard as he rushed in, and sidestepped. His blow struck it, but it was little more than a glancing blow. Carrying on his swing, the next blow landed better. He heard someone behind him, and Zarryon struck the creature with a sword, although most of his blow also bounced off the creature's hide.
Jean-Paul longed for his armour as it returned his attack, a flurry of claws and fangs, the creature slashing and biting him. It continued its frenzied assault, and both his attack and Zarryon's landed well, the creature appearing badly injured now. From behind, the thief's iron ball sailed through the air, over its left shoulder and landed harmlessly on the floor, neat to an odd-looking pair of massive golden doors, which appeared to lead to the outside of the Palace, possibly a balcony.
Again it attacked Jean-Paul, and he was covered in painful bite and claw marks, struggling with the pain to return its blows. As Zarryon's blows landed, the creature fell to the ground, and almost laughably a bunch of magic missiles streamed into the beast as it too dissolved into nothingness.
The room was in a terrible state - there was blood on the bed as though someone, possibly the King, had lain there injured. The trail of blood led off and ended at the golden doors.
"The Count's room," Zarryon stated. "But what on Oerth is that!"
He pointed to the golden doors.
Jean-Paul heard activity behind them, men running and shouting, and some of the Royal and Palace Guards from the King's room soon entered. The magic-user approached the doors, and knocks on them lightly, shaking his head and shrugging. Everyone appeared puzzled at these doors, as though they should not be there.
Looking out of the window beside them, Jean-Paul realised that there were no doors on the other side - they led nowhere! Outside he could see many people running about the gardens and woods with torches, as though searching frantically for something or someone!
"What is going on here? What are those!" the voice bellowed from behind him.
The paladin turned, and saw it was Count Fimuth. He walked up to the doors and struck them as the mage had.
"Where did these come from?" he asked.
"We do not know, Your Eminence," Zarryon said, rather sheepishly.
The mage cast a spell. Within a minute, he said, "They are magical, though of what nature I cannot tell."
"Open them," Fimuth demanded.
The mage began to cast another spell, but nothing happened.
He shook his head.
"I cannot, the magic is too strong!"
Several other men and elves, and then Thoggin, ran into the room, asking the same questions as before. They asked what had happened and everyone recounted what they remembered of the fight. It seemed that Fimuth was drawn outside to see what was going on there, while the King retired to bed.
"Hmmm, there is someone loose on the grounds too," Thoggin said. "Perhaps all will be revealed once we get hold of him. Devils? Damnation!"
He strutted over to the doors and, as everyone else had, tapped them.
"Alright, everyone out except you lot," he said, pointing to Zarryon, the thief, the mage, Fimuth and Jean-Paul.
"Form a semicircle around it and prepare your best attacks for whatever comes out - it may have the King in there."
He sent another man to fetch Zarn Varnt, the Count's magist, and in a few minutes more of his Mareschals arrived to join them. Soon Bermen also arrived, with Mordekei in tow, and Akhan shortly after him. Thoggin allowed them in.

"Quick," the priest said. "The King!"
Hamman and Eloi helped him to move the King, who was at least breathing now, and Eloi guided them into his bedroom, up onto his grotty bed. The priest set about healing the King, who seems to be getting better by the minute.
"Quite some pad you have here, master Eloi," Hamman declared.
Once the priest, whose name was Baulkar, was happy with the King's condition, the trio headed into the bar, where Hamman and Baulkar's shock continued.
"Where exactly are we ?" demanded the priest
Eloi grinned, obviously enjoying their confusion. "Where do you want to be?"
A few stiff drinks later, to bolster the spirit, Hamman was quizzing Eloi about his actions.
"I think that is best discussed with the rest of the party, and can wait, but briefly someone has summoned devils to kill the King, from here within the Palace."
Baulkar shook his head, seeming unable to fathom what Eloi was telling him. He downed the large glass of brandy in one go.

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