The eyes were still following me, but I gave no indication that I had noticed while I helped the two knights pull Thomas free of the pile of dead men. It was hard to tell how badly wounded he might be inside his armor, but at least the younger knight was still breathing, though he seemed to be unconscious.
“Where are the rest of the men?” I asked them.
The expression on Cyhan’s face was discouraging, not that he was known for his sunny disposition. “We were scattered in the fighting. A good number of the enemy scaled the walls and came down the stairs. I believe the men on top were killed. I saw some of the remaining knights fall in various fights around the keep. Some of them may still be alive, but I doubt many of them are still able to fight.”
“The two of you should see how many are left. Some of them may be in need of help,” I suggested.
The two knight’s stared at me for a moment before Dorian spoke, saying what was on both of their minds, “We shouldn’t leave you undefended. There may be more of them running loose near here.”
I dismissed their concern immediately, “If I can handle the God of Justice without breaking a sweat, I don’t think Doron’s little flunkies will be a problem for me. Do as I have asked. I will wait here for your return.”
Their eyes moved from me, to Walter, and back again, before they both rose and made their way toward the door that would take them toward the main hall. I didn’t bother wondering what silent communication they had shared, as long as they followed my orders, I was satisfied. They collected a few weapons as they went, and a stray thought popped into my mind as they stepped out.
“Dorian!” I called out, to get my friend’s attention. He turned back to look at me as I continued, “You do realize you’re naked, right? You should at least try to find some trousers while you’re out there.”
His face passed through several shades of color before settling on a deep red, as his mind processed my statement. Closing his mouth Dorian hurried away and I could hear Walter chuckling beside me.
“This will make a wonderful story later,” noted the older wizard.
“It will indeed,” I agreed, “once we get rid of our unwelcome guest.” Moving forward, I stared down at the face that had been tracking my movements. “Isn’t that right, Doron?”
The mouth of the paralyzed warrior opened, but without control of his diaphragm he was unable to reply. Instead he gaped and worked his tongue to no avail, attempting to speak.
“You need to stop your game and face me. You have already seen that you are not the equal of my knights. Stop playing the coward and assume your true form; my patience grows thin,” I said, addressing the immobile warrior.
The face went slack as the force animating it disappeared, and a moment later I saw an outline appear in the air above the fallen body. It grew quickly from an insubstantial haze to a solid form, as Doron’s power consolidated in one place. If I had still retained my magesight, I imagine it would have been blindingly bright as the god’s aythar gathered into one distinct place, but as things were I didn’t have to worry about being distracted by the shining god’s power.
Walter vanished as Doron gained solidity. Taking on his true form would concentrate the deity’s power here, and without being able to shield himself, Walter would again be at risk of succumbing to the overwhelming presence of the Iron God. The elder Prathion would be rendering himself invisible to both magic and light to protect his mind. Walter’s disappearance was fine with me, for in this case I had nothing to gain from his presence, quite the opposite actually. The other wizard knew exactly what cards I would be playing, and that knowledge would be our undoing if Doron were to pluck it from his head.
Being invisible to magic as well as light, would also render Walter completely blind. He would still be able to hear, but he would be unable to render any sort of aid, without removing the invisibility that protected him.
“Your friends have abandoned you,” came the deep bass voice of Doron. It was an attractive voice, as all the gods’ voices were, but without the added influence of his aythar, it was merely a voice to my ears.
“At least I still have friends,” I returned, “unlike you.”
The Iron God stood before me with his arms crossed. Muscles seemed to bulge excessively in every direction, and his lightly oiled, bronze skin only enhanced the effect. The form he had taken was large, probably close to seven foot in height and broad-shouldered. I had always been tall compared to my peers, but Doron’s height made it easy for him to look down upon me, a deliberate attempt to intimidate me.
He relies upon his physical strength to impress others, I thought silently, and he would rather possess his followers and fight, than use his divine power directly. So far the Iron God was living up to my assumptions about his nature. “Since you have seen fit to talk to me face to face, I will offer you a chance,” I added.
The god’s chest seemed to swell and his entire demeanor radiated menace. Overall it reminded me of a cat hissing and trying to look bigger as its hair stood on end. “You offer me a chance, a chance for what? Do not make me laugh human. You have no power and no hope.”
As he spoke he reached out toward me with one massive hand. He could kill me with a touch or a simple exercise of his power. His reaching hand was a test. He is a physical creature, I thought, he will attempt to put his hand on me to confirm my presence and demonstrate his superiority. Once he had me, he would kill or torture me, and all of my bravado would be for naught. No words would dissuade him.
I did not flinch, instead I looked calmly up at him as his hand came down, and just before it reached me I flashed my teeth in a defiant smile. He stopped then, his palm hovering an inch above my shoulder. Inwardly, I felt my fear diminish and my confidence soared. I’ve got you now, you bastard. You’ve already lost this game. I made no attempt to keep my triumph from my features.
“So close,” I said suddenly, “yet you hesitate. Perhaps you have more wisdom than your brother.”
The hand withdrew as Doron’s brows knitted themselves in an expression of concern. Clearly the Iron God was not adept at hiding his emotions. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed Karenth’s absence,” I stated calmly. “You must have wondered if he had abandoned you to face me alone, but I am afraid the truth is much worse than that.”
“You have no power. You cannot fool my eyes,” he declared, but his face was uncertain.
There was steel in my voice as I replied, “You are welcome to test that notion, but I must warn you, the moment you put your hand on me, our parley is over. I will offer you no second chance.”
Being completely unable to sense my mood or read my emotions had to be driving Doron to distraction. I had already determined that he was not the brightest candle in the bunch, so to speak, but without being able to read my mental state, he was lost. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“What is it that you are offering me? I have everything already, including you,” blustered Doron.
“A chance to avoid your brother’s fate. I suspect it was Karenth’s idea to come here, so I will consider allowing you to leave unmolested… unless you would prefer to wind up like Celior,” I told him plainly.
“You have no magic. Your threats are empty,” growled the Iron God.