PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 33
by Abyss <LAbyss@hotmail.com>

standard DISCLAIMER applies.
standard pitiful begging for FEEDBACK also
applies.
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     Pain.
     His world, at that moment, had seemed
defined by pain.
     Every nerve ending in his body was alive
with the fire of a thousand lightning bolts.
     He had struggled to remain aware,
struggled to analyse, to plan, to try and find a
way out of this situation as he had so many
others.  When his attack on the Pale Man had
failed, he had instantly looked for other
options, and then the spell had struck, and
there had been none.
     With his visor gone, he had lost an
element of the ironclad control he maintained at
all times... and even then, Cyclops, leader of
the X-men, had considered the options... strike
at the Pale Man, strike at the ceiling, the
floor, the dragon... then the Prelate had come
close... knowing full well, that his power was
in his eyes, and not his visor as the Pale Man
apparently thought, the Prelate had placed
himself within easy reach of a full strength
optic blast that he knew could kill them both...
and Cyclops had heard something in his double's
voice that he recognized... something
immaterial, but it was not the tone of
betrayal... the oh-so-subtle emphasis on
"tunnels", not "killed"... and so Cyclops had
reduced his options down to one... and trusted
the Prelate.
     When the signal had come, he knew
instantly what to do.    Scott Summers,
Cyclops of the X-Men, ignored the pain wracking
his body, opened his eyes, and released the full
force of the optic blast that was his curse...
directly at the Prelate.
     The blast hit dead on, and the Prelate's
form became suffused with crimson energy,
enveloping the Pale Man as well.  Cyclops poured
it on, releasing every bit of power he could
summon into his double.
     The explosion was stunning.
     Lines of pure force played about the
cavern like lightning.  Rock cracked, crystal
shattered, the dragon roared and above it all,
like the sound of an approaching tidal wave, the
power echoed in the chamber.
     There was no way to see the Prelate or the
Pale Man at the heart of the energy storm. 
Cyclops gave it everything he had.  The pain and
the paralysis of the spells dropped away.  It
didn't matter... all he was concerned with was
giving the Prelate everything he could.
          *         *         *
     Stephanie had never seen anything like it.
     Her heart had fallen as the dragon had
carried them into the cavern.  Her queen and her
master, bound for sacrifice, and the two
remaining outworlders captured with her.  Then
the Prelate had appeared to betray them all, and
she had sworn to see him die even as she would
surely die herself.  The depth of her vow had
shocked her.  Then the truth had been revealed,
and now she could do nothing but wait.  
     The force bolts were everywhere now,
tearing at her like a cyclone wind.  The Hunter
grabbed Lustre from the ground and shouted in
her ear.
     The witch had nodded and clapped her hands
together, then spread them wide.  A thin field
of violet had surrounded them.  She could still
feel the crimson force playing about the room,
but it no longer threatened to tear them to
pieces.
     The dragon was hit again and again by the
force bolts.  It was too big to avoid them.  In
its fury, its tail thrashed from side to side,
hitting walls and adding to the chaos.  The room
was a storm of energy, dust and light, and all
they could do was wait it out.  And deep in her
heart, some part of her feared she would never
see the Prelate again.
          *         *         *
     She had been losing the struggle.
     Slowly and surely, Queen Rain of Geshem
had been feeling her bond to the wild magic of
the Land slip away from her.  She felt each
individual death as the Pale Man's servants
killed her people and brought the end a little
closer.  Desperately, she had sought for some
means to fight, some way to strike back...
     And then she had felt a strangely familiar
presence, and with every once of will left, she
had called out to it, and felt it approach.
          *         *         *
     Alex had hidden when the first preyers had
charged up the street, running on all fours like
animals, howling for blood with voiced that were
frighteningly human.  He had watched in horror
from an alleyway as they broke into a house,
sensing the humans hiding within.  Alex had
closed his ears to the screams and run on
towards the gate.  He had only a short sword he
had grabbed off a dead bandit and his knife,
having left his spear behind because it slowed
him down.
     He was close to the main gate, and had
broken into a run, when four soulsworn bandits
had emerged from a shop into the street before
him.  Alex looked frantically for somewhere to
hide, but a shout proved him too late.  He had
turned to run up the street, only to see a pack
of preyers running his way.
     *I'm going to die.*
     He dashed for an alleyway between two
buildings, tripping over a pile of refuse.  For
an instant, he lay cowering there, when the
shouts of pursuit suddenly became battle cries. 
     Alex looked up in confusion, as one of the
biggest men he had ever seen led a group of
armed men and women out of the alley ahead of
him, directly at the bandits and preyers behind. 
The big man stopped to help him to his feet.
      Nicely done lad, ye saved us the bother
of finding this lot.  Rest now.'
      Can't...' Alex struggled to catch his
breath,  mother..  my family... outside.'
     Amon's face hardened.
      The refugees'll have to fend fer
themselves, lad.  Us an' the theives'll be
fighting house to house from here on, just to
hold the city and pray that the Hunter's bunch
come through.  No time to worry  bout an army of
bystanders too scared to take a hand.  Don't you
be frettin' tho.  We got some archers watching
the gate to keep any nasties from scarpering. 
Rest now.'
     And the man was gone.
      Intimidating, isn't he?'
     Alex recognized the voice.  He was still
shocked though, when its speaker faded out of
the shadows of the alley.
      Katherine!'
      In the slightly cooked flesh, kid.  Good
to see you're still in one piece.'
      Lady Katherine, I have to get to the
walls... my family are out there.'
     The theif frowned, her dark eyes looking
towards the fighting in the streets.
      I can't help you, kid.  Pasty Face's
goon's are going to massacre this city, and
there aren't nearly enough of us to stop them,
much less protect an army of refugees sitting on
their duffs hoping the trouble will go away. 
All we can do is try to hold them and pray to
the Land Lustre and the others pull a miracle.'
     She stopped, watching Alex's face. The
boy, nearly a man from all he had seen these
last few days, had the same look the Gambler got
when he thought up a particularly risky heist.
     She was even more stunned when the kid
grabbed her by the arms.
      Katherine, you have to get me up to the
walls above the camp.'
     She shook loose.
      You're nuts kid, I havn't got time...'
      Katherine... you said it... an army.  The
only thing that can save us now is...', his
mouth opened and shut a few times, and then he
ducked around the corner of the alley and ran.
          *         *         *
     The three riders found themselves at the
inner rim of the valley, where the land levelled
out towards the city.  They were at the opposite
end from the main gate and the refugee camp, at
the point where the castle walls were closest to
the outer walls.
     The sounds of battle could be heard quite
clearly coming from the city.
     Douglas drew his sword with his metal
hand, the one attached by the Shaman to replace
the one he had lost defending the land.  The
other hand tightened on the reins.
      Richard, Alexander, I know not how we
came to be here, but there stands out city, and
my Queen endangered within.  There's no time for
secret passages... gain us an entrance.'
      Yes, Prince-Consort.' said the knight
Richard, hefting his heavy war hammer, praying
to the Land that its magic would stand true this
day.  The other knight said nothing.  His blade
had already cleared its sheath at his back, and
now ripples of grey and black began to play
across the wide blade.  Alexander's eyes were
narrow slits, and his breathing laboured.  He
nodded his head, and the three of the kicked
their mounts into a full gallop towards the
city.     
     They covered the distance in moments. 
Richard rode to the fore.  Leaning far over in
the saddle, he swung his hammer two handed,
holding to his horse with his knees and heels. 
The Quake Mallet the Mage had entrusted him with
brushed the ground, and a wave of earth and rock
rose as if the ground had become water.  The
wave rose to half the height of the walls and
crashed down against it.  Even as this happened,
Alexander rode forwards, his shifting blade held
high.  Hid voice was tinged with madness and he
charged towards the shaking wall.
      For the Land, for the Queen, for
Geshem... cry CHAOS!'
     With that call, he turned his mount at the
last instant and swung the Chaos Blade down on
the wall.  Ripples of power spread out from the
blade, and the wall caved inwards.  Alexander
Summerisle turned his horse, leaning forward in
the saddle, clearly exhausted.  The prince
spared him a quick look, and then the three of
them urged their mount forward and into the
embattled city.
          *         *         *
     As abruptly as it began, the energy storm
ceased.  The cavern was ominously silent, before
the low growls of the dragon echoed out. 
Stephanie spared the monster a quick glance.  It
was leaning against a wall, shaking its long
neck from side to side, eyes closed.  Lustre
moved forward and began a spell in its
direction.  The Hunter turned to Cyclops who
kneeled nearby.  His arms were shaking with the
effort of holding himself  up, and his whole
body heaved as he breathed deeply.  She couldn't
tell if his eyes were open or not.  Finally, she
looked to where the Prelate and the Pale Man had
stood at the centre of the storm.  Even as she
saw the Prelate, she ran forward.  He was lying
stretched out on his front.  His cloak and shirt
had been blasted away, and his body was red and
swollen as if he had been trampled by a regiment
of cavalry.  He wasn't moving.
     The Pale Man was nowhere in sight.
     The Hunter leaned down and rested her hand
on his neck.  With relief, she felt a faint, but
steady pulse.  Cradling his head, she turned him
over.  His long hair fell away from his face and
she saw the three long scars that ran from his
temple down to his cheek, broken only by the
smooth metal of his visor over where his eye
would have been.  Her fingers traced the scars
for a moment, then she looked about him quickly. 
Thin streams of blood ran from his nose and
ears.  His body was covered with red welts that
would become hideous bruises, but as near as she
could tell, there was no serious damage.  Being
the source of the force storm, he must have been
protected from the worst of its fury.  She
noticed something in his hand.  A single black
glove, clutched tightly even in unconsciousness.
     Lustre's voice broke her revelry.
      Hunter!'  The tone was anything but
triumphant, and Stephanie instantly looked to
the witch.
      What is amiss?'
      I was trying to restore the spell holding
the dragon in thrall... its not working, and
look to the altar.'
     Stephanie didn't need to.  She had worked
for the Mage long enough to know only the most
powerful workings outlasted their caster.  If
the Pale Man were truly gone, then the spell
holding the Queen and the others in stasis would
be gone.
     Lustre grabbed Cyclops by the shoulder and
dragged him to his feet.  His eyes were open,
and they glowed redly.  Gently for all her
haste, the Hunter lowered the Prelate's head to
the floor and stood.
     Her voice was filled with dread.
      This isn't over.'
          *         *         *
END CHAPTER 33