Your Leader
2. April 2020
We shut the gate to the inner courtyard behind us and advanced toward the keep. Another pair of Mapach guards awaited us at another pair of double doors.
“That’s far enough,” said the first, his voice deep and rough. “State your business.”
“Stand down,” Olive began confidently, flourishing Fray Merridan’s sword. “We’re here to see your—err, I mean—our leader.”
The first guard advanced warily. He eyed the sword, and a glimmer of recognition sparked in his eyes. Thank goodness the sword had survived the Firebreath that had killed its owner.
“My leader? You’re wearing bandit colours and you’ve got a captain’s sword. Who are you? Until you can prove who you are, you’re not seeing the boss.”
“Do you think we have ID?” asked Olive incredulously. “Who are you?”
The guard grunted. “I’m Ransley and that’s Grimsley,” he said and pointed to the other Mapach. Grimsley nodded his head and scowled.
“We found the sword on this old lady,” said Olive, gesturing at me. I hunched over a little more and gave a high-pitched groan. “We need to take it to Benna Seridan and we mustn’t be delayed.”
Ransley looked at us closely. He grunted again. Under my shawl I was preparing for the worst. I reached slowly for my great axe, but Ransley broke the silence first.
“Fine,” he huffed and turned to the other guard. “Open the door, Grimsley. I’m taking them through.”
Ransley took us through a smaller courtyard, past two wooden buildings. We followed a narrow path up to the door to the inner keep which was built directly into the rock of the mountainside.
As Ransley opened the door we were hit by a homely sight. Crispin’s acute senses immediately picked up the scent of food and his stomach rumbled in anticipation. The room appeared to be a meeting hall crammed with tables and chairs and littered with the remains of a feast.
At the back of the room there stood a large table and a single high-backed chair which reminded me of a throne. Beside it was a doorway guarded by two armoured Jerbeen guards. They nodded to Ransley as he entered and shut the door behind us.
“Someone to be questioned by the boss,” said Ransley.
One Jerbeen guard banged on the door. “General Seridan. Someone to see you.”
We heard a rustling from behind the door, then it opened and the general stepped out. She was an imposing sight: a tall Cervan with a solid build and her face partially covered with a red bandana. She was well-armoured and from my hunched position under the shawl I could see at least three weapons on her belt.
“You wanted to speak with me?” she asked. “Be quick about it.”
Ransley offered her Fray Merridan’s sword. “They say they found this on the old woman.”
“This is Fray’s sword,” said Benna, recognising the decorated pommel. “Why do you have this? Why do you have his sword?”
“Let me speak with you in your office and I’ll explain everything,” I croaked in my creakiest voice.
Benna Seridan pursed her lips but agreed. I hobbled inside her inner sanctum and she closed the door behind us.
Crispin, now left alone with Olive and the guards, decided to make one last attempt at finding friendship. Since he already knew Ransley’s name that made him the perfect target. He sidled over to the Mapach guard.
“So,” he said. “I’m new to being a bandit.”
Ransley coughed. “I can tell.”
“Any tips?”
Silence.
“What do you think happens after we die?”
Ransley put his hand on his sword. “You desperate to find out?”
Crispin got the message.
Inside Benna Seridan’s office I wondered what in the woods I was going to do next. The room was tiny with just enough room for a bed, a writing desk, and an impressive-looking chest in the corner. Candlelight flickered against the walls.
“I assume that you having this sword means Fray is dead,” sighed Benna.
“Yes,” I said. “The Birdfolk Council are making an organised effort against the bandits. But this disturbs the peace of the woods while other dangers are afoot.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Benna asked, a flash of anger in her eyes. “Why do you think I formed the Coalition? Because the Birdfolk Council only cares about Alderheart. They are willing to let villages burn as long as their city is safe.”
“All the more reason to make peace with them now,” I suggested. “We must work together. Won’t you at least consider a truce with Alderheart?”
Benna Seridan narrowed her eyes. “You’re asking a lot of Alderheart questions for an old lady. Are you able to make such offers? Do you speak for the council?”
She appeared to notice my feet for the first time and then looked at me in horror. As I reached for my axe she grabbed at the shawl covering my head and pulled it away. I stood up straight. The time for talking was over.
“Guards! Intruders!” shouted Benna Seridan.
Outside the office, Olive, Crispin, and the guards heard the shout and reached for their weapons.
Crispin turned to Ransley and reached out his hands. There was a sudden crack of necrotic energy and Ransley was thrown across the room, smashing into the far wall and landing heavily on his back. He convulsed once and then went still.
Crispin turned to the Jerbeen guards. “Do either of you want to find out what happens after death?”
The remaining guards broke and ran screaming across the room. “Help, help! Anyone help!”
Olive kicked open the door to the office. I was on the defensive as Benna unleashed a series of vicious slashes with her sword and daggers. In her haste one sword span out of her hand and she cursed. I snatched it up before she could retrieve it.
“Take that,” said Olive and her lute strings crackled with magical energy. There was an earsplitting boom and a thunderous wave of sound knocked Benna back against the wall. The yellow sparks crackled across her skin.
I grabbed a Potion of Firebreath from my belt, popped the cork and downed the contents.
“Do you want to know how Fray died?” I crowed and released a burning breath of fire at Benna. She ducked and weaved trying to escape the flames that lashed at her in the confined room.
Crispin had summoned his spiritual weapon and was trying to run down the fleeing bandits, but unfortunately for him their cries for help had been heard.
Six Mapach bandits came running into the room. One was Grimsley from the gate and a few of the others looked like they had come from an infirmary. There was one with a bandaged head, another with an arm in a sling, and a third hobbling in with a crutch.
Crispin backed towards the doorway as the bandits swarmed him. He managed to get back-to-back with me but they were moving fast. He made several quick signs with his hands and banged his pot. At once, a glowing sphere surrounded him making it difficult for the bandits to strike.
Meanwhile, Olive darted in closer to Benna, ducked under her guard, and stabbed her in the side.
“Gah, where did you come from?” Benna shouted and turned her attention to Olive. She swung her weapons savagely but dropped another one with her wild strikes.
I swung my great axe over and over but Benna’s technique was incredible. She parried blow after blow, even when I thought I had got past her defences. Fortunately, against the Firebreath she was less successful.
We were trapped, fighting on two fronts. Crispin held the door against the oncoming bandits on one side and Olive and I skirmished with the general on the other. Olive was seeing the worst of it though as Benna focused all attacks on her.
“Are you okay back there?” asked Crispin. He reached backwards and patted Olive on the shoulder, magical energy binding some of her wounds.
I felt an arrow stick into my shoulder from the direction of the main hall. The bandits had given up trying to attack Crispin and were firing indiscriminately into the office.
I finally struck a solid blow against Benna, my axe slicing past her blades. She fell to the ground and I was sure it was over. But suddenly her eyes widened and she jumped back to her feet, knives again at the ready.
“Woah,” yelled Crispin as one bandit reached through his shield spell and grabbed him. He was lifted and carried out into the hall and quickly surrounded.
If this was going to end, we had to take out the general.
Olive stepped back and strummed her lute again. Another ferocious blast of sound knocked Benna across the room, smashing the furniture into pieces where she landed. But still the general picked herself up and turned on Olive, relentless in her assault.
This time I was ready. I swung my axe low, angling it upwards only once it was too late for Benna to parry. There was a final crunch of breaking ribs, a gasp for breath, and then the leader of the Bandit Coalition fell to the ground for the last time.
I turned to the hall and screamed. “Benna Seridan is dead!”