PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 12 by Abyss DISCLAIMER; Hear ye, Hear ye! Any concepts that are the property of Marvel are used without permission, for no profit. Anything else belongs to the author. In other news, comments, critiques, suggestions, etc... MUCH appreciated. Spoilers given on request. Keep the faith, -Abyss ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- The crowd shifted as one, closing in on itself, huddling for protection. There was nowhere to run. The bandits were all around, their grey-haired leader, who had just executed six of their friends and family with a wave of his hand, walked closer. "Captain..." One of the bandits, his armor slightly less ragged than the others, came running over. "Sir." "Have your men heard these cattle over to one of the buildings and lock them in. Let them think we're going to pillage this place and leave, then fire the building." The man started to leave. "Oh, captain." "Sir?" "Nevermind, I'll kill them myself." And he began to spin again. His form became indistinct with the twisting, turning cloud of wind and dust that he summoned around himself. He didn't cut loose with his blades right away. He wanted to savour this. The villagers cried out. Two tried to run. One, a man, received a crossbow bolt in the side and crumpled, the other a young girl, fled from her mother's arms towards an opening between two buildings. A bandit stepped in front of her, the shaft of his spear ready to swing like a club. Two slim dark hands reached out and pulled him back into the opening. He had only enough time for a startled gasp as a knife opened his throat. The girl ran through, unharmed. At the same instant, the next man over was suddenly hauled off his feet by a noose that dropped from the roof of the building behind him. The pull was so fierce, it snapped his neck. A bolt of red energy struck the whirlwind that was the bandits' leader, knocking him down and sending him rolling across the street. He stopped himself and pushed his body up with his arms, looking around furiously. At the centre of the largest road into the square, a tall man with an outlandish visor on his face was standing, legs apart, arms bent, fists clenched. Fury made the grey-haired man's voice a high-pitched screech. "Kill them, kill them all!" The man on the road responded in a firm, loud voice, emphasizing every word.. "I... Don't... Think... So." * * * Cyclops scanned the scene quickly. It was his job to keep the Geshem version of the Marauder Riptide busy, but first he had to take out as many of the crossbowmen as possible. He turned to one side of the square, calculated trajectories and loosened a blast in an instant. Across the square, a barrel shattered, spraying wood fragments across two bandits, one with a crossbow, one with a sword. The ricochet off the barrel took out another. He swung the other way. A direct hit knocked another crossbowman through a wall. Shouts from the crowd told him the Hunter was leading them away. A crossbowman aimed at him. Cyclops turned to fire and a hammer flew through the air and crushed the bandit's skull. A yell of pure fury rang through the square as Amon, swinging another huge hammer over his head like the thunder god of Cyclops' own world, leapt off a low building and landed on a bandit, knocking the man senseless. "For the Queen and Geshem!" Bandits rushed the smith, and he charged into them, mallet swinging. From the centre of town, another higher voice screamed. "Kill them." Cyclops ran towards the voice. The man who resembled Riptide saw him coming and scrambled to his feet, twisting in the same moment. Cyclops dove down as a flurry of razor sharp blades craved the air above him. He bit back a gasp as a blade grazed his shoulder. A low optic blast tripped the Marauder and stopped the blades. Motion in the corner of his vision made Cyclops roll to the left. A spear jabbed the ground where he was a moment before. An optic blast to the face sent the man flipping over backwards. There was a shout from the buildings and a small group of villagers, unarmed, charged the bandits. Cries rang out from them. "For the Queen!" "Queen Rain!" A crossbow bolt sent the first man down to his knees. A spear impaled the second, and a cloud of blades from Riptide cut the rest down. Cyclops was sickened. He saw the Hunter charge out from the buildings, a long knife in either hand, fury on her face. Riptide started to spin again. Cyclops blasted him. At the same instant, another crimson beam struck the marauder from the other side of the square. The man was twisted like a piece of paper in a tornado. He dropped to the ground hard. Cyclops looked to the source of the beam, knowing what he would see. Prelate Summers stood there. There were still the bandits to deal with. Seeing their leader put down was disheartening, but they were seasoned fighters to a man and not easily defeated. Until now. With the Hunter guarding his back, Cyclops sent blast after blast of optic force from his eyes, knocking down the bandits before they could close with him. Those few who tried to get behind him fell to Stephanie's blades. Across the square, Amon waded through the bandits like a scythe through wheat. Shields raised against his massive hammer were shattered, usually with the arm behind them. Bones crunched and splintered with each swing. Just to his side, Prelate Summers took down the bandits scattered throughout the square. Concussive force lashed out from his one eye again and again. In minutes it was over. Bandits lay dead or beaten across the square, and so did a dozen villagers. Cyclops and Stephanie walked into the centre to meet Amon and the Prelate. The villagers started to drift back into the square. Cries of grief and rage mixed with cheers. Amon yelled at some of them to begin gathering those bandits not dead. He didn't need to say anything about their own dead. Family and friends would see to them. Cyclops stood over the man who had led the bandits. His resemblance to Riptide was total. The man moaned slightly. Half his face was black and blue, his arm twisted at an awkward angle to his body, and those were only the obvious injuries from the combined impact of Cyclops and the Prelate's optic blasts. "Who wants to do the honours?" the Hunter asked. Amon stepped forward and lifted the man up by the front of his leather shirt. "Allow me. I have some rather pointed questions for our friend here." "Wait." said the Hunter. She reached out and pulled the bandit leader's belt from his trousers. She looked at the buckle a moment, then turned to the Prelate. He looked confused. She threw the belt into the air. Cyclops watched as the thing arced through the air and landed at his feet. He looked up at his double, then to the Hunter. "It was the source of his blades." Stephanie said. "So why destroy a usable weapon?" was the Prelate's reply. Cyclops ended the debate by firing an optic blast down on the buckle, reducing it to fragments. No one said anything. The Prelate looked at Cyclops, contempt warring with any number of other emotions. Amon coughed and moved off, dragging the marauder with him like a ragdoll. Stephanie looked around the square, then shrugged. "I had better go too. He might know something we can use when we get to the castle." She looked at the two Scott Summers', reflecting on how they were so much alike, but worlds apart. "We leave in an hour." She turned and walked after Amon. Prelate Summers went to follow her. Cyclops's hand on his arm stopped him. The Prelate whirled, knocking the hand off. "What!?" Cyclops looked at his twin, wishing neither of them were cursed with the visors. "Thanks. We might not have taken them all down if you hadn't helped." The Prelate looked stunned. He was expecting a lecture for not coming sooner, mainly because it was what he would've done. He confusion of dealing with himself like this was agonizing. He responded with a slow nod and followed after the other two. Cyclops watched him go, then turned to help the villagers with the clean-up. END CHAPTER 12