Episode 50
The system of power turns like wheel
You can rise to the top through money or steel
You could lift up others or leave them in muck
But it’s the poor who will suffer when the wheel becomes stuck
If the problems aren’t met with any solution
The wheel must turn in bloody revolution
The vermin will rise as the predator sinks
Let’s see then if the fox can outsmart the lynx
Lilian could not help feeling a rush of excitement. She had just witnessed Peter’s chemical concoction explode and now she, along with William, Fritha and Mr Attorcop were rushing towards the large iron door in the cemetery wall. This wall, which towered above them at least twenty feet in height, was the only thing standing between them and the palace grounds, and now they had breached it. Lilian remembered to steady her breathing, lest she become over excited and distracted. Mr Attorcop wafted away the smoke, which smelled of severely burnt meat, and slowed his pace as he approached the door. Lilian heard footsteps hurrying up behind her and turned to see Peter catching up with them. Genaro and his two companions were not far behind.
“Ha! Told you! I knew it would work. Lugging that stuff all the way back from Zandt was worth it after all.” He was gesturing to where the jar of black dust had been placed moments ago. The jar was nowhere to be seen. The iron around its placement was twisted and bent outwards, as if a giant’s fist had been plunged straight through it. The brick wall had suffered damage as well, with a large section where the bolt had been embedded missing and turned to dust. Mr Attorcop pushed the door gently and the group watched with glee as it swung open easily, revealing a serene, starlit garden beyond. Peter tapped Lilian on the shoulder.
“This is where I leave you. I’m no fighter and I’d only slow you down. I’ll see you in the morning though aye?” Lilian smiled and nodded.
“Yes, thank you Peter.” Peter grinned,
“Don’t mention it, good luck.” He turned on his heel, gave one last look at his handiwork and ran away through the cemetery smiling like a schoolboy.
“I think we’d best stay too,” mumbled Genaro, “My head feels three times the size and growing every second. That bang didn’t help one bit, impressive though it was.” Lilian stepped over the rubble, towards him.
“Thank you Genaro, I mean it. You and your men, the brave sons of Taymar, did well.” All three of them beamed with pride, despite the fact that the effort obviously caused them some discomfort. Genaro turned to go but caught himself before leaving.
“Oh, one more thing. Miss Lausanne, you don’t have a weapon.” Lilian instinctively looked down at her hands. She hadn’t given it much thought, she was so used to fighting with her fists and feet, but now that she considered what might lie beyond the wall, a weapon might do her good. Genaro reached behind his back and grabbed the handle of his sword. Or at least, Lilian thought it was a sword. When he brought the weapon out of its scabbard Lilian saw that it was more of a metal rod. It had a handle of thin tied rope and was polished to a shine.
“This is a tungsten switch, quite rare and in the right hands, very dangerous. See how it thins a little at the tip? That will make your strikes faster. It looks thin, but it packs a wallop and its blows are usually less deadly than a sword’s.” He placed the weapon in Lilian’s open palms.
“Alexi…” she began, “I can’t…”
“Nonsense,” he interrupted her, “it’s yours. Consider it an apology gift, for letting you down. Now with this and the help with the soldiers here I think I can sleep soundly once more.” Lilian smiled.
“Thank you.” Alexi Genaro took a step back and bowed. His comrades followed suit and in the next instant the gentlemen revolutionaries were off into the night, their capes and billowy shirts, flapping in the breeze.
“Right,” said Mr Attorcop, “time is wasting, let’s push on.”
Now that they were down to just three, four including Fritha, they moved quicker and quieter through the palace gardens. Like shadows they leaped between topiaries and expertly shaped hedges. The gardens were beautiful but they had no time to stop and admire the flowers coloured blue by the moonlight. Genevive had given them strict instructions as to how to navigate the gardens and they were thankful for them, for without her direction they would have surely gotten lost in the shrubbery maze. At one point Mr Attorcop directed them to duck into a bush and Lilian heard the sounds of booted footsteps rushing by up ahead, surely the sound of soldiers sent to investigate the disturbance at the door. The palace loomed dark and high above them, as if it were a chess player and the scurrying folk at its feet merely pieces in its twisted game. After about fifteen minutes they found the base of the palace and headed to the back garden entrance. Lilian hadn’t seen this part of the palace from when she had attended the ball. The garden door was embedded in an ornate alcove. Mr Attorcop glanced about before approaching it, making sure no one had followed them.
“Now remember,” he whispered, “our goal is to find the Empress, I have no doubt that she will be heavily guarded, but if she is to answer for her actions, then she must be isolated and detained.”
“And then what?” asked Lilian. Mr Attorcop’s face became difficult to read. His countenance grew serious, even more serious than usual and he stared at Lilian and William with a dark look in his eyes.
“I should imagine a trial. That is, if she comes quietly. Too much resistance and we might have to dispense our own brand of justice.” Lilian was having trouble telling if he was joking. “Let’s just focus on catching her first,” he said, smirking at Lilian’s worried face. He turned to the thick wooden door and focused on the latch. There was a hole there made for a large key, but without any key or any more explosives to hand Mr Attorcop was forced to improvise. He turned towards the moon, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Lilian knew he was about to perform some of his own gloaming and she felt an unpleasant pang of jealousy. Focus, she told herself, there would be time to address that later. After about half a minute Mr Attorcop took a section of his long black sleeve and began to work it between his fingers. Lilian watched as the limp material slowly began to take shape. It formed itself into a thin plank, stiff as a board and yet still malleable to Mr Attorcop’s touch. He turned back to the door and worked the now stiff cloth into the small gap between the wall and the door. With a quick, jerking motion he hoisted the cloth upwards and Lilian heard the satisfying click of the latch being released on the other side. She smiled as the door swung inwards.
“Very nice,” whispered William, “couldn’t we have done that with the iron door though?” Mr Attorcop bade them inside and shook his head.
“No, the bar would have been too heavy. My cloak is only wool, I cannot change its properties, just shift them a little, like starch.” William was impressed nonetheless, it was not often people got to see real sorcery at work, even though Lilian knew that Mr Attorcop would be the last person to call it that.
The corridor inside was dark, streaks of moonlight bled in from small windows by the ceiling and Mr Attorcop cut through them quickly as he lead the way. Fritha seemed to have picked up on the atmosphere and was drifting in and out of perfect camouflage, hugging and mimicking the grey stone wall beside her, only becoming visible when she stepped into the streams of moonlight. Lilian tried to keep an eye on her but had to focus on keeping her armour and footsteps from making any sound. Thankfully, this wasn’t too difficult. The armour seemed to have been built for stealth and needed only a hand pressed lightly onto the breastplate to keep it from clanging.
All of them held their breath as they approached an open archway up ahead. There were the sounds of voices and shuffling movement coming from somewhere beyond the arch. Lilian tried to get her bearings and judged by the amount of time they’d been navigating this corridor that they must be near the main hall by now. Mr Attorcop put a hand out behind him, signalling them to stop while he went on ahead. He hugged his back to the wall and peered round the corner. He remained motionless for a few seconds, enough time for Lilian to breathe out slowly and shift her senses. The voices became clearer, one belonged to a man, his tone was gruff and strangely familiar.
“It’s not a question of numbers, it’s about positioning. Leave the soldiers in the yard and gardens. Inside I want only castle personnel.” The voice was answered by another, younger voice that Lilian did not recognise.
“Yes Captain. And her majesty is…” the first voice cut it off,
“Never you mind. Telson is protecting her personally, she’ll be fine.” Lilian came out of focus then in time to see Mr Attorcop coming back.
“It’s Taymor. He’s got palace guards with him.” Lilian looked over at William. She worried he might lose his temper and go after Katherine’s imprisoner and husband. But he kept his head and barring the white knuckles on his tightening fist, showed no sign of betraying the mission. Lilian suddenly realised just how tall he was as well. He was such a good natured man that she hadn’t really noticed the bulk on his arms and width of his shoulders. He would not have stood out from a row of soldiers and Lilian feared for any man that would come up against him when his patience ran thin.
“We should keep going, we don’t want them taking the Empress away,” he said. Lilian shared what she had just heard.
“Telson has the Empress, they’re probably upstairs somewhere.” Mr Attorcop did some quick calculations in his head before replying.
“We need a way to access the upper levels.” Lilian thought back to the evening of the ball. Had she missed something that could help them now?
“There are several ways we can access the balcony upstairs. I was taken up there via a side staircase off the main hall, perhaps there are others like it?” The three of them nodded and doubled back. There had been some small corridors and doors leading away from the hallway on their journey, but they had ignored them, seeking the main hall so they could find their bearings. So far, the palace back passages had been thankfully free from soldiers, but Lilian knew that could change at any minute.
After retracing their steps for just a minute or so, they came to a squat looking door built into a rounded corner.
“Here,” said Lilian, “this round part might have a staircase inside.” Mr Attorcop twisted the ring on the edge of the door and the latch popped up. The door swung open slowly, its metal hinges whining at the effort. The group held their breath but thankfully there was a set of wooden stairs built into the edge of the well. They began their ascent. Lilian knew they were heading in the right direction, but the feeling of not knowing exactly how to get there was uncomfortable. The four of them silently made their way up the stairwell until they came to a door, set into the side of the wall. Mr Attorcop was leading the way and so, after briefly putting his ear to the wood, opened the door as quietly as possible. The door revealed a comfortable looking lounge room. Soft furnishings were scattered about the space in little groups, window seats hugged the large panes of crystal clear glass through which a view of the entire city could be seen. Lilian glanced out of one of the tall windows and felt her legs weaken a little from dizziness. The palace was built on top of an old volcano after all, so from here, there was nowhere to look but down. They made their way through the room without a sound, just a few loud sniffs from Fritha who had become interested in a chaise-longue in the corner. The carpets softened their steps up until another door set into the eastern wall, the one furthest away from the windows. It was one of two such doors, both of which were decorated with swirling, flowing details and had little leaves carved into the edges. They were painted light blue, like the rest of the room, with the carvings highlighted in white. Mr Attorcop tried the handle and breathed a small sigh of relief when he found it open.
The door let out into a corridor lit by several candles stationed in sconces along the length. They listened out for movement or speech, but heard nothing. And so, following their instincts, they made their ways along the passage. They ignored most of the doors along its length, knowing by looking at them that they would lead to trivial places like tea rooms, libraries, smoking rooms, washrooms, etc. What they were looking for was somewhat grander than these.
The great hall came into sight just a few moments later. After a few twists and wrong turns they found themselves on the great balcony where Lilian had met Empress Sylvia at the ball all those months ago. As Lilian stepped back on to the boards and looked up, she noticed how bleak this place was with no magical fairy lights to brighten up the large walls. They began to cross the balcony, following Lilian now as she remembered exactly where The Empress had emerged from that day and assumed that she would have come straight from her personal quarters. With any luck, she would be there now. Lilian glanced over the balcony edge as they traversed the hall. Where once there had been a fantastical forest, there was now just pale and cold stone. Lilian stopped in her tracks. There was something strange about the sight below. The space was empty. She had expected to see soldiers guarding the main door, but the large wooden structure was shut and looked out over an empty space. A few torch flames flickered in the cavernous space below them, but that was all the movement Lilian could see. She stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes and took a long, calming breath. As she slipped into focus, the palace remained largely dark. So few sounds were being made that Lilian was having a bit of trouble orienting herself. She picked up the noise of people from far below and outside, soldiers discussing tactics in the courtyard. But there was something else, something closer that was drawing her attention. Up? No. Along the wall there, somewhere below and behind them. Opening her eyes, Lilian whipped round and pointed at the passage they had just come from.
“There are people coming,” she said.
“How many?” asked Mr Attorcop.
“Not sure, maybe ten or twelve, a lot.” Mr Attorcop’s expression grew dark.
“Let’s keep going.” Their brisk and quiet walk turned into a run as they headed once again for the stairwell entrance on the other side of the balcony. Lilian didn’t dare enter focus again, knowing that the sound of boots behind them would only be getting closer.
They had almost made it to the stairwell entrance on the other side when a loud shout drew Lilian’s attention back. She turned briefly to see who had made the sound and she was greeted by a small company of soldiers spewing out of the stairwell opposite like mice out of a burning bakery. The man leading them was tall, had a serious expression and an angular face. Lilian knew him now, even though they had never officially met. This was Taymor Brown, Katherine’s husband. His uniform had changed since the last time she’d seen him. His Weardian coat had been replaced by leather armour and a dark green surcoat with the Empress’s sigil plastered plainly on the chest in gold and rose. He was drawing his sword as he strode towards them, half running.
“Stop where you are. You are under arrest for trespassing, murderous intent and treason. Under the authority of Empress Sylivia, you are to come with us and be placed in the dungeons until your trial.” Lilian watched as all twelve men around him drew their weapons and began to edge closer. She turned to look at Mr Attorcop and was surprised to see him stopped, frozen in place facing away from the soldiers with his eyes closed. He was breathing deeply and rhythmically. Lilian knew she had to buy him some time. She was about to say something when William stepped forward.
“Taymor,” he spoke in a low and serious tone, his own sword drawn from its scabbard. He took two steps towards the group of palace guards, and spoke again, “You’re on the wrong side of all this. Think about…” his voice cracked with emotion, “think about Katherine. If she could see you like this, fighting little girls and obeying a mad Empress’ every wish, what would she think? Perhaps that’s why you threw her in the tower. So that you didn’t have to face her disappointed expression whenever she looked at you.” Lilian’s heart was thumping, Mr Attorcop still had not turned around and was still focusing intently on his breathing. Taymor Brown’s eyes narrowed as they glowered at William.
“You must be Mr Lincoln. I must say, I’ve tried to never let myself take pleasure in what I do. I believe it fosters cruelty. But I think I can allow myself a little bit of happiness knowing that it’s you I will be throwing in a dungeon this evening. Take a good look, William…” He turned and gestured to his unit of men and the gold star on his left breast, “this is what taking pride in your work looks like. Obeying the law and working hard can get you power and respect. Not that you would know anything about an honest day’s work. Perhaps that’s what she sees in you, hm? Someone she can look after, like she does with all those children?” Lilian recognised this tactic. He was trying to make William angry. Bried had done the same thing to her back in her house in Lionsgate. William was too smart to fall for something like that though, right? She looked up at him and saw that the knuckles on his sword hand were white and a vein was throbbing in his left temple. He took another step.
“You talk of respect and honour? Is that how an honourable husband treats his wife then? By throwing her in a dungeon?” Now it was Taymor’s turn to become angry, his teeth clenched and his movements grew more erratic.
“All I’ve ever done,” he said, “was what was right, by the law, by my duty and by my family. Sometimes, people make mistakes, I’ll grant it. But an honourable person would know when and how to pay for them. Again, I’m not surprised that you do not understand.” Taymor had crossed three quarters of the balcony by now and he seemed ready to stop speaking, “now enough of this. Drop your weapons, come with us this instant and no harm will come to you.” William was shaking his head. Lilian readied herself for a fight when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Mr Attorcop’s whispering voice appeared in her ear.
“Head up the stairs, find the Empress, we’ll join you shortly.” Lilian turned to look at him but he was already striding past her, towards the guards. She glanced back at the stairs going up and twisting out of sight. She took a step towards them, trusting that Mr Attorcop knew what he was doing. She wanted to wish him good luck but became distracted by figuring out where Fritha was. She must have disappeared as soon as the guards arrived. Trusting she was not alone then, she darted for the spiral staircase, the very one she had seen The Empress emerge from when she first met her at the ball. Just as she turned the corner she saw movement coming from the balcony, a large black mass, swirling and twisting darted out of her vision and then all she had left were the sounds of her feet on the steps, the clattering of swords and the screams of men.
The spiralling steps took her up and up to the realms of roofs and towers. Small slits in the brickwork allowed Lilian to see out over the ancient tiles that lined the tops of the palace structures. There were windows across from her so she assumed these towers were connected, probably via rooftop walkways. Lilian’s stomach dropped when she craned her neck out to see the palace gardens and walls. She had thought the balcony high up, but these heights were unnatural, especially for anything that wasn’t a mountain. Lilian didn’t mind heights, it would be tough to live in Benlunar if you did, but this tower was becoming ridiculous. Just as her thighs began to scream from pushing her up two steps at a time, the spiral well let out into a large space. Lilian hesitated to think it a room, it felt more like a landing. The ceiling was relatively low, compared to the chambers in the lower part anyway and especially compared to the great hall. It was roughly the length of the Stave Church in Benlunar and had large wooden beams supporting the roof above and long smooth planks under foot. Small doors ran the length of the space along the walls to her right and left. In the wall at the far end, there was a large round window paned by blue stained glass. This window could be seen from street level, it looked out over the palace courtyard. Lilian had always thought it to be a bit dreary, but now she could see that it was meant to be viewed from the inside, rather than admired from the street. Even the dim light of the stars and moon was enough to wash this space in streaks of beautiful blue and silver. Lilian approached the glass slowly, studying its designs. In the pale panes and swirling metal frames she saw moons and constellations. This window was old, old enough to have been built for when this building was still a church. For the first time since coming to Freedos though, Lilian found herself asking what it was the people used to worship here. It was chilly up in this large room with no sconces or fires, but Lilian felt more comforted than cold. She looked about instinctively for Fritha, sure that she would have come up here with her, but before she could call out, movement at the far end of the space caught her eye. It was one of the little doors nestled in the wall. It opened quickly and three men walked out, one of them was barking orders at the other two. He walked with a cane and was wearing a long azure blue coat with details sewn in golden thread lining the edges. His black shoes were polished to a shine and they had gold buckles that matched the jacket. He walked into the wash of blue light but froze as soon as he saw Lilian. She had not tried to hide, she just gripped her weapon and stood as confidently as she could in the middle of the room looking directly at Nicholas Telson. Telson smiled. Lilian could see his face clearly even in the dim light. It was a charming face, she had to admit it. It would probably have been difficult to weedle his way into high society without such a face. But there was something twisted there, the way he smiled or the manner by which he examined people. It wasn’t the charm of someone like, Peter say, it was far less endearing and once you knew exactly just what kind of person he was, the charming facade fell away to reveal malice behind it.
“So you finally made it to your appointment,” he said, “A little late, but I suppose that’s better than never.” Lilian’s nerves were getting the better of her. She wanted to be able to joust with words properly and give him some witty comeback, but perhaps now was not the time to care about those things.
“It’s over Telson,” she said, with as much gravitas as she could muster. She suddenly felt very alone.
“Over? My dear the night is young, you’re here on your own and the Empress is very much secured. I would say things are only just beginning.” His smile faded into a scornful glare. His countenance quickly shifted, Lilian moved her switch up in front of her and shifted her left leg behind her.
“You two, drink that stuff and deal with this intruder.” The order set off alarm bells in Lilian’s head. Stuff? She thought, what stuff? The two men who were flanking Telson, looked at each other and then at him with confused expressions.
“Mr Telson, are you sure that’s really necces…” Telson reacted quickly and brought the tip of his cane down hard on the man’s foot before he could finish talking. The large man winced in pain and bent over, putting himself at eye level with Telson.
“Do not question my orders. This one is not worth trifling with.” They looked back at Lilian, who readied herself by shifting her weight slightly from foot to foot and then jerking her head forwards in a sharp nod so as to knock the helmet visor forward. A set of silver jaws obscured her vision for a moment and then, with a pleasing thunk she was looking out through the eyes of her metal mask.
A small flicker of concern, flitted across the faces of the two guards, the helmet was disconcerting even for seasoned soldiers. The jaws and face were designed to trigger primal fears. But then they sneered and stood up to their full heights. Telson began to move backwards, back towards the large window. He would observe proceedings from a safe distance, getting others to hurt and be hurt for him. Lilian thought she saw a glint of pleasure in his eye as his two guards brought out little bottles from within their uniforms. Lilian’s body nearly flinched at the sight of the purple liquid sloshing about inside them. An echo of pain flowed through her arm and back at the memory of the last time she saw such a bottle. Without any further warning, the guards flicked off the caps and tipped the containers up and back, letting the thick purple ichor slip quickly out of the bottles and rush down their throats, like it was conscious and eager to escape imprisonment. Both men winced, one dropped his bottle and Lilian watched it fall to the floor with a clatter, remaining intact upon impact with the floorboards. Lilian breathed out a long and slow breath. She had imagined this kind of moment many times over the past weeks. So far, everything was going according to prediction. The men had drunk the Nightshade and would now have to wait a few seconds until it took effect. She had a plan in her head, but was nervous about whether or not it would work. From somewhere deep in the palace, Lilian thought she heard a shout, but tried to not let it distract her. The seconds dragged by and Lilian waited. Just when she began to worry about whether this batch of Nightshade was in any way different or better, the two guards did just what she expected them to do. Their faces contorted in pain and they both bent over double, clutching their stomachs. Now, thought Lilian and she rushed forward, fighting all the voices in her mind telling her it was too dangerous. If her theory was correct, she only had a brief window in which to act. She crossed the space between them as quickly as her legs could carry her. Instead of stopping when she reached the two men, she veered to the left and let her momentum carry her forward into the first guard. Her movement did not stop until her fist connected with the guard’s stomach. He had been too incapicated to stop her and once his body felt the punch in his gut, his eyes widened in shock. Lilian did not wait to see if she had been successful, instead, she twisted round and landed a swift backheel kick in the second man’s stomach. He reacted in the same way as the first. Both men were on the floor now. Writhing in agony and vomiting purple gunk onto the old wood. Lilain allowed herself a smile. She had suspected a direct attack on the gut to be effective, but she hadn’t imagined it would put two grown fighters completely out of action. It appeared nightshade had a weakness.
Lilian turned to look at Telson. His mouth was pursed and his expression was dark and disappointed. He sighed and spoke,
“Uh, typical. You know, if the Empress hadn’t wanted to meet you, I would have chopped you up in that dirty little room of yours. But now that you’ve committed treason I don’t think her grace will fret too much over your death.”
Telson stepped forward, into the stream of blue light that was coming from the window behind him. His shadow stretched out in front of him until it touched the tips of Lilian’s toes. He drew his sword out of its cane-shaped sheath and examined it in the light. Lilian glanced at her own weapon. She still hadn’t used it properly and this thing was a little heavier than the training blades she’d used in Zandt. It felt good in her hand though. A satisfying weight and a good balance gave her confidence. Besides, there was something she liked about the fact that it was not sharp or pointed. Telson swished his blade back and forth in the air, sending dust swirling around him. Lilian’s head was awash with thoughts. She tried to remember everything she’d been taught by Mistress Eleyna, she tried to focus, she tried to stop worrying about Mr Attorcop and William. It was all too much.
“I take it you’ve become quite the poster child…” he stepped forward and focused his gaze on Lilian, “How disappointed the people will be when they find you in the morning.” Without another sound, Telson was rushing forwards. His speed was uncanny. Had Lilian not been ready and watching him, she was sure he could deliver a killing blow from that distance in less than a couple of seconds. But Lilian was ready. In fact, she was more than just ready. She saw in the positioning of his weapon in relation to his body that he was in the sixth Atarapian stance, second movement. It was hard to be sure, his movements were not as obvious and defined as she had been taught, but this flash of insight was all she needed. She knew instinctively that there were several counters to this attack, she chose the tenth stance, third movement, flicking her feet into position and adjusting her body to absorb the oncoming attack and, hopefully, stop it in its tracks.
Telson closed the gap and brought his sword out in a textbook sixth, second stab. This stance included a distraction in the form of a stomping foot, Lilian ignored this easily and stepped in over it bringing her weapon and free hand forward from the side in an attempt to trap Telson’s arm against his body. The brief look of surprise on his face suddenly made all those hours of agonising lessons worth it. Lilian could not resist a smile. She hoped he saw it through the gaps in her mask. Telson shoved her quickly and twisted out of the pin. He looked at Lilian up and down with new eyes. He began to circle her slowly keeping his weapon trained on her body and his eyes on her mask.
“You’ve been… practising I see.” He quickly shifted into second stance, Lilian countered with fourth and third. He lifted his sword sheath up into ninth and first, Lilian moved into fifth and first. They shadow boxed like this for a while, testing the other’s reflexes and analysing their choices of attack and defense stances, Telson moving all the while. Once he’d completed a half circle around her, Telson spoke again through gritted teeth.
“I don’t know who taught you Atarap, but they didn’t do a very good job. Either that or you were just a poor student.” Lilian was about to reply, but she stopped herself. She was done with talking. She flashed two steps forward, bringing her metal rod weapon out and round in a swift arc. Atarap was mainly a sword fighting art and therefore relied a lot on stabs and slashes. These would be useful moves for Lilian, but with her current weapon, they would not be deadly. Telson saw the attack coming and blocked it with his cane sheath. He quickly brought his sword up to counter but Lilian batted it away using a technique Mr Attorcop had taught her in Benlunar. It involved hitting your opponent’s shoulder and disrupting their attack. It wasn’t strictly an Atarapian move, a skilled user could counter it quickly, which Telson of course did. Lilian couldn’t help noticing however that her tactic caught him off guard for a split second. This triggered an angry bout of quick attacks from Telson. His razor sharp blade flew at Lilian from all angles at breakneck speed, and it wasn’t only sword attacks. Kicks, punches and even one attempt at a headbutt came out of Telson’s wave of attacks. Lilian found herself backing up. He was fast, perhaps not quite as quick as Mistress Eleyna, but that didn’t matter. He was still quick enough to force Lilian to focus on defending. Lilian needed to regroup and so after ducking under a particularly vicious slash, she jumped backwards with a back handspring and created some distance between them. Lilian breathed out slowly and chastised herself. She’d been holding her breath. This would have earned her a quick wrap on the wrist from Mistress Eleyna. She looked up to see Telson smiling. His breathing had quickened but he’d kept his composure.
“I’ll admit your defense is impressive. But it’s just a matter… of…time.” He sprung forward on the last word and unleashed a volley of attacks. Lilian defended most of them, but her blocks were becoming sloppy and late. After dodging a stab aimed at her eye, she felt all her breath leave her at once and looked down to see Telson’s fist, still clenching the sheath, plunged into her stomach. Lilian shoved Telson back, coughing and spluttering and trying to catch her breath as she did. Her vision blurred slightly but she kept her weapon up. The tip of the switch wobbled as she tried to get her composure back. She heard a low, rippling sound and realised that Telson was laughing.
“The people’s champion. I suppose it's only fitting. This pitiful attempt at revolution is weak, misguided and boorish. Like a child.” Lilian brought her arms up to block an incoming punch, but it was a feint and Lilian quickly felt a shock of pain flash through her body from her thigh as Telson’s booted foot connected with the nerve in the side of her leg. The limb went numb and Lilian was forced to hobble away. Fear was taking her over now. She felt its cold sweat drip down her forehead, despite the heat of the mask. She sensed it taking control of her heartbeat, then her breathing. She breathed in sharply and heard her chest wheezing and straining with the effort. Suddenly Telson was on her again, this time he performed the eighth stance fourth and fifth kick. Lilian had learned it, but had never used it successfully in a fight. Perhaps that was why she didn’t see it coming. Telson span right and down, sweeping his left leg out and knocking Lilian’s base out from under her. Before she hit the ground though, Telson was up and kicking with his right leg. His shin connected with Lilian’s chest mid fall and sent her sliding across the boards. She heard herself emit a pained shout along with the clattering of metal on wood. This was it she thought. Telson was toying with her, but his enjoyment would be ending soon, and Lilian would not be able to fight back.
Lilian tried to support herself on her arm, but it wobbled under her weight. She coughed and tasted blood in her mouth. She heard Telson’s wood wedge boots slowly clomp towards her. Images of home flashed through her mind. She saw her parents, smiling and cooking in the kitchen. She heard Kilde’s voice asking if she could come out and play. She saw the river and heard the sound of birdsong. She felt a desperate longing to be there. To be home and safe. A lump appeared in her throat and the word ‘Mum’ formed on her lips. She realised then that her weapon had flown out of her hand during the tumble. She looked over to where it lay. She needed to get to it. She reached into her dwindling well of strength and managed to drag herself halfway there before she felt the sole of a cold boot stepping on her wrist. She winced.
“This city has always had a vermin problem. I suppose I could tie you up or something. Show you mercy. But the thing with rats is…” the boot twisted as Telson leant down, he spoke in a menacing whisper, “if you don’t kill them, they just… come… back.”
There was a crunch as her armour was punctured and a searing pain erupted from Lilian's shoulder as Telson’s cold metal blade was forced downward, stabbing her in the back.
Lilian cried out. It was not a lethal blow. Telson was not a merciful man. He was cruel, like a cat that plays with its food before devouring it. Lilian felt the sword slide out, sending another burst of hot pain through her chest and head. Her left arm went limp and useless. Her vision blurred with hot tears. She felt a boot slide under her chest and was unceremoniously lifted and kicked over so that she was now facing the ceiling. She looked to the blue window, hoping to catch a final glimpse of the moon. But Telson was blocking her vision and so all she saw was his dark silhouette and that fiendish grin.
“I’ll be sure to tell them you fought bravely, or maybe I shan’t say anything at all. I’ll just let your death become a symbol of futility. Goodnight, Lilian Lausanne.” Lilian saw the outline of his arm rise up, the flat of his blade glinting in the blue light. She shut her eyes and apologised in her mind to everyone who had been counting on her. She waited for the finishing blow.
But it did not come. Warily, Lilian opened her eyes. Telson was moving backwards, wrenching his sword arm two and frow in a jerky off beat dance. He was struggling in the dark against some invisible foe. Fritha. The feinhound shimmered into view. Her powerful jaws were locked around Telson’s wrist and he was gasping and struggling against her grip. Lilian smiled and knew that she did not have long until he was free. Her faithful companion was protecting her until the very last, even when it was obvious that she was beaten. The act gave Lilian time, but more importantly, it gave her hope. She needed to do something, she needed to regain the advantage. She needed to disappear.
And so Lilian pushed herself up into a seated position, trying desperately to ignore the pain flowing out from her shoulder. She crossed her legs, shut her eyes and took a deep breath. The sounds of Fritha’s jangling growls and Telson’s curses intensified. Lilian went past hyper focus and straight into gloaming. She turned her senses inwards and found the golden light of her heart. The strange pain was there to meet her, just as she knew it would be. Normally she would have given up and opened her eyes, but gloaming was her last resort now. She forced herself to stay with it. The white hot pain mixed with the searing cut on her back. Her body was being pushed to its physical limit but despite this Lilian kept her breaths constant and deep. Each new breath brought with it a wave of fresh agony. Her heart was racing and she felt sweat begin to fall down her forehead and into her eyes. She forced herself to keep breathing. Surely it couldn’t get worse, she heard herself think, there had to be an end to this, a threshold, a horizon, a moment beyond the pain. She had just been stabbed and didn’t mind admitting that she would rather go through that again than to sit here and deal with this strange inner torture. She was close to giving up, just a few more breaths, she told herself. Her skin felt as though it was burning from flame and acid all at once. She felt sick. She felt her organs moving inside her. Her lungs filled with fire, her stomach with white hot metal. But there, just now, she saw something. Some movement from the golden light. Like the first rays of dawn at the end of a tunnel, or a moon above a deep well.
Her heart light was growing. Instead of persuading it to leave her body, Lilian let it wash over her. Its cooling power eased the pain. Just a little at first, but then in a matter of seconds, the pain was gone. And not just the pain from gloaming, but her shoulder was no longer hurting either. She had stayed strong and was out on the other side now. She began to feel energised. Her heartbeat settled into a steady rhythm and a comforting warmth spread throughout her body. The only part of her that still felt stange, was her right forearm. Lilian opened her eyes and looked down at the spot where it hurt. Perhaps hurt was too strong a word. It didn’t hurt, it just felt bigger, more present. She nearly gasped when she twisted her arm upwards to reveal a moon and a mountain. The essence was there, skin deep and activated. It glowed silver and white in the darkness and Lilian could feel power surging from it and through her body. She looked up to the big circular stained glass window. Something was drawing her attention there. Like when a warm fire draws the body towards it. There, in one of the circular panels, fitted like a puzzle piece, was the full moon. It hung delightful in the sky, bright and beautiful. Lilian breathed in its magic and let its refreshing light flow around and inside her. The pain was all gone now replaced by… power.
“Damn you to the ninth circle you foul creature.” Telson was still struggling with Fritha, but a quick kick to the animal’s ribs made her yelp and fall to the floor. It’s fine, Lilian told herself. She would be okay, besides, she’s done enough. She can rest for now. Telson turned back to his real target, his eyes were creased with hatred. A strand of his hair was out of place and Lilian got the impression that this man really hated exerting himself in any way. His expression changed however when he saw Lilian standing up. The light of the moon was reflecting off of her armour, like snow on a frozen pond. “What… what’s wrong with your hair?” Lilian did not know what he meant, but she could sense a little of her hair moving around her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw strands floating upwards, like she was underwater. She didn’t pay it much thought. Telson was her primary concern and judging by the look on his face, he was ready for another round. “Sorcery doesn’t scare me. I’ve fought your kind before,” he walked over to pick up his fallen sword. Lilian mirrored his movements and retrieved her tungsten switch. It felt lighter in her hand than it had before. Telson continued his ranting, “It’s all just smoke and mirrors. If there was any real power behind it, the world would be ruled by sorcery. But it isn’t. It’s ruled by, well, people like me. People who have the courage and intelligence to take charge and remind those beneath them of their roles. Sorcery or not, you all bleed the same.” Lilian knew in that moment why Mr Attorcop had been targeted again and again by The Guiding Hand. It was the slightest crack in Telson’s voice. The smallest tremble, imperceptible really. He was nervous. He was bluffing. Telson began to speak again, but Lilian was done with talking, so she cut him off, “If you ask me…”
“ENOUGH TALK.” Her voice sounded strange as well, but Telson didn’t react. He just sneered.
“Fine by me.”
Telson took two steps forward, skipped a few paces and then launched into a ferocious barrage of attacks. Lilian read his movements. A fourth stance, third movement lunge lead into a quick second stance sweep. A fifth and third slash then a ninth and first punch into third into seventh stance with a modified fourth and second kick. Lilian read them all. If she hadn’t trained with Mistress Eleyna then all the gloaming in the world would not have helped, but her training, combined with this new lunar power helped her to navigate the fight. Her tungsten switch flashed from block to parry with lightning speed. She was defending herself easily enough. But she could sense that she had more to give. Lilian was beginning to feel a connection between her own body and the darkness around her. She would never be able to put it into words, but the night was starting to feel like an extension of herself. She wanted to be behind Telson and so she slipped into a shadow and reappeared behind him, landing a forward kick on his hip as she did. Telson whipped about and refound his balance quickly, but Lilian was already gone. She faded into a moonbeam and projected herself upwards, reappearing ten feet above Telson and flipping into a somersault heel kick. The back of her boot connected with Telson’s head with a sickening crack. He let out a cry and stepped back to regroup. Lilian stood up to meet his eye. For the first time since they had started trading blows, she saw his eyes glance at one of the many doors. He was looking for an escape, but Lilian would not let him go. He was in her web now. The darkness revealed suggestions on how best to trap him. He darted to his left but Lilian was ready. She lifted her right hand and dark tendril fingers appeared from between a floorboard. She shut her fingers and watched the darkness clamp itself around Telson’s ankle. He tripped over and hit his chin on the floor. Lilian saw blood escape from the side of his mouth, he must have bitten his lip on the fall. Lilian asked the darkness for more, and the darkness obeyed. Black tentacles began to rope themselves around him, fixing him in place. He fought them at first, slashing desperately with his sword. But Lilian emerged from a shadow behind him and kicked the sword away.
It slid across the floorboards and stopped at Fritha’s feet. She had stood up and was testing her weight on her kicked leg. Finding that she could walk, she padded over slowly towards them. Lilian knelt down and pressed her forehead on the feinhound’s big head. Her fur was blue with large black spots and it reflected the moonlight beautifully. They turned to stare at Telson. He had stopped struggling against the dark chords and was looking at Lilian and Fritha with wide, horrified eyes. Lilian lifted her mask so that Telson could see her face properly. He looked up at dark green-grey skin and yellow cat-like eyes. Fritha let out a long, low and loud gong and Lilian knew that she had won.