The bandits herded them through the forest for another hour, their pace leisurely and their spirits high. They didn’t seem particularly concerned about their losses, or that their captives might escape; other than their hands being tied, their ropes were only held loosely by a single member of the group. Clara’s strength slowly returned to her over the course of the walk, but she still didn’t feel up to an escape attempt. Gideon didn’t seem to try anything either, and Clara wondered if he might have some plan for later, or if he had resigned himself to whatever the bandits intended to do.
Their destination eventually came into sight through the trees, a small castle nestled within the forest. Nature had begun to reclaim it, by the sight of the tendrils of ivy that crept up its walls, the stone worn and crumbling. The bandits led them across a decaying wooden bridge that spanned an empty moat, through an old gate that was rusted open, and across the overgrown courtyard of the castle. Bandits milled around the structure, some on guard atop the walls and others just chatting, or playing dice, or otherwise whiling away their time. Clara saw signs of recent conflict within the courtyard: patches of freshly turned earth and splashes of dried blood. She supposed that was as telling as anything of what happened to the last adventurers who tried to stop these bandits.
They were brought through an empty doorway into the old keep’s great hall. A moldering carpet ran between several sets of pillars, leading up to a wooden throne, one of the few things in the castle that seemed new. Beside the throne knelt a gleaming metal statue in the shape of an armoured man with a great sword.
The figure seated there was dressed in regal clothing, complete with a vibrant purple cloak. His head was obscured by a metal helmet that had a full rack of antlers affixed to it. Gideon and Clara were shoved before the throne and forced to kneel.
“Brought you some stragglers we found prowling around your forest, Your Majesty. They killed Ella and a couple others before we managed to round them up.”
“That is grave news,” a deep voice echoed out from within the helmet. “And it bodes ill for our… guests. I am the King of the Forest, and this is my domain. You have trespassed on my lands and slain my subjects. What have you to say for yourselves?”
“You’re no king. You’re just a common bandit,” Gideon spat at the helmed figure.
“Just a common bandit? I have a castle, a throne, a crown, and loyal subjects, Paladin. And you’re kneeling before me, are you not? So I will add treason to your list of crimes. But I am a gracious ruler, so I will give you a chance to prove yourself innocent. I am eager to witness the skills of a Paladin. How does trial by combat sound to you?”
“I will best you or any champion you choose.”
“Oh, I do love the confidence. Prepare the room,” the bandit king motioned to his followers. One of the bandits pulled Clara to her feet and led her to the edge of the hall, where the rest of the bandits moved to spectate. Another of the bandits cut Gideon’s bonds with a knife and handed the Paladin his sheathed sword.
“Allow me to introduce my champion.” The spectating bandits cheered, seeming eager.
The King of the Forest reached into his robes and retrieved something, holding it high in front of him for the room to see. It was some sort of polished sphere, fist-sized and gleaming. Its surface was a metallic grey, but as the bandit leader raised it up it began to glow from within with icy blue light.
The same light poured from the eyes of the statue beside the throne. A tortured sound echoed from within the metal figure, and it rose from its kneeling position, standing at least a foot taller than Gideon. It jerked forwards hesitantly, as though it was trying to fight the movement, and came to stand completely still in front of the throne, facing Gideon. The Paladin, seeming unsurprised, unsheathed his blade and bowed respectfully to his metal opponent.
Clara recognized the creature facing Gideon from her arcane textbooks. It was a golem - a kind of magical servitor or spirit bound to an artificial body. The orb the bandit leader held must have been some sort of control method for the golem. It explained why this particular group of bandits had managed to be so successful.
The King of the Forest sat back down on his throne. As he did, the golem launched itself forward and the battle began.
Gideon met the golem blade to blade, parrying its first blow with the ring of metal on metal. Clara knew the golem was a creature of magic, stronger and faster than any mortal man - but Gideon held his ground as he exchanged blows with the golem in the middle of the great hall, deflecting or avoiding its first few strikes. The two combatants seemed evenly matched, both displaying excellent bladework. The King of the Forest leaned forward in his throne, and everyone watching was utterly captivated by the fight.
Everyone except for Clara. Even someone as inexperienced with fighting as her could recognize the skill on display and she felt herself drawn in, but her attention was pulled away by something landing on her shoulder. She turned her head to see her imp perched on her, and cast a glance around to make sure none of the bandits had noticed it. She had nothing to worry about; they were all completely focused on the duel.
“My hands,” she whispered to the imp. “And then get me the orb their leader is holding.” The demon climbed down her arm and tore at the ropes binding her hands together with its claws, then dropped to the floor and snaked its way through the legs of the bandits. Clara lost sight of it and turned back to watch the fight.
She looked back in time to see the golem catch Gideon with a strike from the back of its fist, causing him to stagger. A few of the bandits shouted encouragement at their champion as its foot shot out and sent Gideon flying across the room, and the Paladin slammed into one of the hall’s pillars.
The golem launched itself at him, but he managed to recover in time to dodge the golem’s sword swing, ducking low as the metal creature’s blade passed above him and shattered the pillar. His sword glowed with holy energy, cutting through the cloud of powdered stone as he thrust it upwards into the golem’s chest plate, and the blade sank deep. But the golem was a creature of pure metal, nothing more than a spirit inhabiting a constructed body. It lacked any sort of vital organs, and was unconcerned with the damage. It kicked at Gideon again, and the Paladin pulled his blade free as he stumbled away.
He didn’t have any time to rest as the golem lunged forwards again with an overhead slash. Gideon diverted it to the side and the golem’s sword smashed into the floor of the hall, stone blocks exploding into shards that flew outward. The Paladin’s sword glowed again as he struck down at the golem’s sword arm, shearing through the metal limb. It clattered to the ground as it was separated, inanimate fingers losing hold of the great sword.
The golem was again apathetic towards the damage it had sustained, wasting no time to strike out at the Paladin with its remaining armoured gauntlet, which Gideon managed to block. The two were once again locked in an exchange of blows, the golem’s bludgeoning strikes sending Gideon sliding and stumbling around the great hall even as he fended off the hammer-like blows.
Gideon had gone into the fight already wounded and tired from his encounter in the woods, and he was starting to slow. The crowd could see it and more of the bandits around Clara were cheering for their metal champion, and for the Paladin’s defeat.
One of the golem’s punches slipped by Gideon’s guard, thudding into his chest, and the Paladin was sent flying back once more. He slammed into the wall, and before he could recover the golem had shot forward to hammer into him again, parts of the old wall crumbling to dust as the Paladin was shoved into it. Gideon tried to bring up his sword in defense, but the golem grasped it by the blade and wrenched it out of Gideon’s hand, throwing it across the room. Its one metal hand reached for Gideon’s neck and there was little the tired and wounded Paladin could do as he was raised into the air, trying without success to pull the unwavering fingers from his throat.
The room went silent as the Paladin’s end seemed certain.
A cry came from the direction of the throne, and the golem stopped moving. Clara’s gaze whipped over to the bandit king, who had leaped from his throne. He was reaching for a red, winged figure as it shot into the air.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Clara’s imp clutched the orb in its spindly arms, as she had commanded.
Before any of the bandits could manage to respond, the demon winged over to Clara and dropped the object in her hands. As her fingers wrapped around the item she could feel some presence from within the orb pull at her - it felt almost like it was pleading.
The bandits around Clara tried to grab her, but she spun away from their grasping hands and, not entirely sure how to operate the orb, focused on the item and thought about the golem dropping Gideon. The metal figure complied, it fingers opened, and the Paladin fell to the ground, gasping for breath.
Clara held the orb above her head, letting all of the bandits see it. “Stay where you are,” she commanded them, “or I will turn your champion against you.” The bandits froze, none of them seeming to want to go up against the metal golem.
“That belongs to me!” the King of the Forest shouted. “Hand it over, and I will consider being merciful.”
“I don’t see why I should do that, Your Majesty.” She said the title in a mocking tone. “Your loyal champion seems to have changed sides.”
The bandit leader’s face was hidden, but his pose suggested anger. Rage, even. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get her!” he yelled at his human subjects. The bandits drew their weapons and ringed Clara, but she held the orb out at them in a warding gesture, and none of them seemed too eager to step forward.
She focused another thought on the orb, and the golem turned towards the King of the Forest. It strode across the great hall.
The helmed man backed away from it, his anger giving way to fear, and he stumbled back and tripped on his throne. The golem continued to approach him and reached down, wrapping its fingers around his neck and lifting him into the air. The golem tightened its fingers with a snap that was audible throughout the great hall, and the man in its hands went limp.
Clara let the golem drop the King of the Forest and the rest of the bandits scattered, pushing past each other to escape through the hall’s various exits.
----------------------------------------
Once the bandits had cleared out of the hall, Clara went over to Gideon and kneeled beside him.
“Are you alright?”
“I’ll live,” the Paladin coughed. “Just give me a few minutes.”
She nodded and stood up. Gideon stayed lying on the ground, catching his breath.
The golem’s control orb pulsed in Clara’s grasp. She could feel whatever consciousness was inside pull at her again, as if it were trying to communicate but the vessel it was in was not suited to the task.
She looked down at it. Tossed it into the air, caught it, then continued to contemplate it. A golem would be a powerful minion to have under her control, as the bandits had already displayed. It would not be inconspicuous, though. Clara doubted she would be able to bring the golem into Calador. And it felt as though there were more to the orb than a mindless servitor. It had seemed like the golem was fighting its controls when it dueled Gideon.
She held the orb up in front of her face. “What do you want?” she asked the artifact.
Though she wasn’t really expecting a response, the golem’s body moved in response to her question, raising one of its hands in front of it with the palm up. After another moment of contemplation, curiosity got the better of her and Clara placed the control orb in the construct’s hand.
The metal being seemed to hum with power the second it touched the orb, a light growing in intensity within the eyes of its helmet. It reached up to its chest and pulled aside a panel, placing the orb within itself. A deep, metallic voice boomed from the golem.
“I thank you, mortals, for returning me to my whole self. Though I balked at the commands of those who have controlled me, it was not in my power to resist them.”
Clara tilted her head at the construct, surprised that it was able to speak. She had thought golems mindless servitors of wizards. “Who created you? How did you come under the control of these bandits?”
“Created?” A grating sound echoed from the chest of the golem, which Clara took for this creature’s approximation of a laugh. Despite the laugh, its tone seemed almost… offended as it continued. “My kind are not as the puppets created by your people’s Dragon-sorcerers. We are far more ancient, born from this world’s magic at the dawn of time along with Demons, Angels, and all the rest. When we were young we inhabited bodies of clay and stone, but we embody ingenuity and creation and have ever sought to improve our material forms. Some of our improvements have come with unfortunate weaknesses, however; as you saw, whoever holds the vessel of our spirit may control us however they wish. I know not how they learned of this secret, but those bandits caught me by surprise, overwhelmed me, and tore my soul from my chest. I have been their slave since.”
“Really? I’ve never heard of such a thing as sentient golems walking the earth.”
“That is no surprise. We have always cared little for the squabbles of the rest of the world, preferring to keep to ourselves and those few humans who show a similar regard for creativity and progress.”
Clara mulled over this new information for a few moments. She had not been aware of beings on the same level as Demons and Angels - though with her lack of real education in the more mystical matters of the world, that was no surprise.
The golem’s steely voice suddenly cut into Clara’s pondering. “I can see that you have an inquisitive mind, and while I respect that trait in your kind and would answer your questions, I have not the time. I have my own tasks ahead of me and this distraction has robbed me of that luxury. You have your own companion to tend to, as well.” The golem gestured to Gideon, who was still lying on the ground. “Should your travels bring you within our territory, know that you will be able to call upon Eyal for aid. I owe my freedom to you.” The golem - Eyal - started towards the keep’s entrance, its movements much more fluid with soul and body reunited, leaving Clara and Gideon alone in the ruined castle.
Clara stared at the golem’s back as it strode away, wishing she had more time to question it. Once it had passed out of sight she returned to Gideon’s side. She wanted to ask the Paladin some questions, too - an initiate of the Church would likely know more about the golem and other such beings - but he seemed to still be recovering from his brush with death.
“We’ll rest here for a while,” Gideon said, pulling himself to his feet. “It should be safe enough now that the bandits have cleared out. They won’t know the golem has departed, and I doubt any of them will be bold enough to come back to check any time soon.”
“You’re not worried about chasing them down?”
The Paladin shrugged. “It would be too much work to hunt down every one of them, and they’ve lost their leadership and scattered. Some of them may return to harassing travelers, but they’ll be less organized. They shouldn’t be too much trouble for the kingdom’s soldiery; and they wouldn’t have much of a job if I spent all of my time on regular bandits, would they?” he said with a light smile. “So let’s take the opportunity to rest for a bit, and then we’ll get back on the road.”
Clara nodded, then pointed behind her. “I’m going to go search around the castle. I want to see if their mage left any of her notes behind.”
Gideon raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh? Is that tome you carry around not enough?”
Clara shook her head. “I’ve already told you this demonic magic was never my first choice.” Her imp chittered dejectedly from her shoulder. She had almost forgotten about its presence, and she waved it away. “If this bandit wizard left anything substantial then maybe I can return home and put all this behind me.”
Gideon looked doubtful, but he nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll go see if they had any food stocked up, then, and maybe we can have a decent meal before we return to the road.”
Clara turned towards where she presumed the bandits’ living quarters would have been, passing by the empty throne and its owner’s corpse. It suddenly struck her, now that everything had died down, that she had killed another human. It was in defense of her and the Paladin’s lives, but that didn’t do much to make her feel better, and the thought stuck with her as she went to search for the mage’s belongings.
----------------------------------------
As Clara had assumed, the bandits had simply taken over the ruined castle’s living quarters. She checked the great chambers first, an was unsurprised to find that the self-proclaimed King of the Forest had claimed the room for himself.
The room, much like the rest of the keep, showed signs of disrepair, though the worst of the damage seemed to have been patched up by unskilled hands. Fine clothes similar to those the bandit leader had been wearing at the time of his demise were haphazardly strewn about the room, and the bed was furnished with similarly luxurious sheets. Clara could only assume that they had robbed a merchant of the cloth, and wondered what kind of price it would all fetch. She briefly contemplated collecting all of the finery, imagining the piles of coin it would no doubt yield, but discarded the idea a moment later. It would be far too much of a hassle to carry all the way to Calador, and an adventurer trying to pawn off such lordly articles would no doubt draw the wrong sort of attention.
Clara fixed the room with one last, longing gaze, before turning away and moving on to another.
The next room she checked was in less repair than the great chambers, lacking even the shoddy repairs done to the master room. It was no less messy than the other, clothes strewn without care across the floor, but Clara could see that these were distinctly feminine: faded robes and dresses, even a hat similar to the one worn by the bandit wizard.
Ella, Clara remembered. She had killed the woman, she might as well at least remember her name.
She pushed that thought out of her head as she stepped across the room, looking for a likely place for books or papers to be stored. She spotted a cabinet with a drawer on the far side of the bed and crossed over to it.
When she opened the drawer she was met by a stack of fine vellum, words dancing across their surface in a neatly scribed hand, and her hopes rose.
Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, and as she shuffled through them, her heart sank. Though the words were clearly those of a wizard, they were only notes, theories, and unfinished spells. Some of them seemed at a glance to be the beginnings of a journal, and though Clara wondered how an obviously educated mage had fallen in with a group of bandits, she had no desire to read about the life she had taken, criminal it may have been.
She had been galvanized from the excitement of victory against the bandits and the prospect of finding some of their wizard’s arcane knowledge still remaining, but all of that energy left her in an instant when she realized the papers held nothing of value to her. It felt as though the exhaustion from her trek through the woods and the subsequent battles struck her all at once, and she collapsed back onto Ella’s bed.