37. The Vessel.

Wilmot continued to laugh as Paul scrambled to his feet.

Paul swung his sword and it connected with a some form of force field. Sparks flew from where the sword and the energy wall met.

Paul stepped back to stand beside Maria.

He looked over at his sister.

Morag was still struggling against her bonds. Sweat was poring of her face and hair as she seemed to be resisting what ever Wilmot’s mage was doing.

The mage seemed unaware of their presence. He was dressed in a brown robe with symbols, that Maria did not recognise, embroidering the cuffs of his sleeve as well as the collar and hem of the robe.

He was staring at Morag, every once in a while looking at a scroll he had in his hands, as he recited words Maria could not make out.

"To little to late." said Wilmot when he stopped laughing.

"Let Morag go." said Maria.

"I think not." said Wilmot. "Not now that I am so close. In a few minutes I shall have something that will allow me to teach that little fool Conall what happens when you don’t take me seriously."

"What does that have to do with Morag?" asked Maria.

She thought she knew the answer and was afraid she would be right.

"I needed a vessel." was Wilmot’s reply.

Maria had not expected that answer.

Paul turned to her.

"What does he mean by that?" he asked.

"I thought he needed her for a sacrifice or to steal her magic." she said, realising what was actually going on. "But I hadn’t thought of that."

"Thought of what?" asked Paul, his voice showing his frustration.

"Demons." said Maria.

Paul looked to be in shock from the news.

"He wants to sacrifice her to a demon?" he said.

"No." said Wilmot. "It’s not that simple."

Maria nodded.

"When you sacrifice someone to a demon you get something in exchange, such as a magical jewel or weapon." she said.

"But if you want the actual demon to come into your world, you need to give it something to inhabit. A vessel of some sort, so it can have a material existence in this plane."

"And the vessel is Morag?" said Paul.

"Correct." said Wilmot. "It took me a while to find someone special enough to use the spell on. It proved a lot harder than I thought."

"It takes a special type of magic for the vessel to be inhabitable." explained Maria. It is rare, or so Mother once told me. I don’t understand what exactly makes it the right type. That is not my area of expertise."

"But that isn’t the worse of it." she continued. "In the other cases the victim dies and goes on to another plane, but a vessel must be alive, so they are always aware of their position, being used as a puppet and being unable to do anything."

"Think of it as being in a cell in which you can only stand and nothing else."

Paul shivered at the thought.

He turned back to Wilmot.

"How did you find out about Morag?" he asked.

"It is amazing how little drink it takes to loosen the mouths of some of the higher up mages around here." said Wilmot. "One of my spies received an interesting story from a mage who said they had gone to visit a new born and saw that she could be a vessel. Then it was only a matter of getting her into my hands."

"Maria."

That was Morag.

"Quickly, you have to stop this." she said. "He can’t be allowed to roam the lands with a pet demon. Do what you must."

The earlier conversation they had had back at the keep ran through Maria’s mind.

She shook her head.

"No." she said out loud. "There must be another way. First we have to do something about this barrier."

Sounds came from outside as the men on the other side of the tent were now trying to get in.

"Get a mage." said someone.

"And we better do it soon." said Paul.

Wilmot laughed.

"Unless you are powerful mages I doubt you can do anything." he said.

"It takes magic to fight magic." said Morag through gritted teeth, as she struggled even more now.

Magic?

Maria suddenly understood.

She may not be great magic, but her sword was.

Bringing her sword up over her head, she flung it.

It arced through the air, and passed through the barrier as if it did not exist, and straight for its target.

It flew straight and true, hitting its target dead centre.

The Mage cried out once as the sword pinned him to the ground through his chest.

There was a small flicker of light that Maria recognised as the dispelling of magic.

The energy manacles around Morag’s wrists and ankles disappeared and she collapsed, gasping, to the ground.

"Go!" cried Maria to Paul as she ran to retrieve her sword.

Paul ran straight for Wilmot, leaving the other two guards for her.

Fortunately the others were stunned by the sudden demise of the mage.

Maria reached her sword. She put her foot on the mages chest and removed her sword.

She turned to face the other two.

They still seemed unsure of what to make of the situation.

She struck first, lunging to cut the arm of the guard on her right.

He quickly blocked her sword but was off balance, so she pressed her attack.

He backed up still only able to block her attacks.

His partner was trying to manoeuvre himself around to Maria’s left.

She kept forcing the first one to move where she wanted him to go while always just keeping the other in her sights.

At one point she had manoeuvred them so that they were near a chest that was near the tent wall. It looked like the standard army chests used to store armour and clothing. When she was where she wanted to be she changed tactics.

She suddenly switched her attack to the one who had been trying to get around her. This surprised both of the men.

As she attacked the second man, she kicked out at the first man, knocking him backwards over the chest.

She sliced at the second man’s arm. He was not able to block properly and she managed to cut him.

Using the time the pain would disorient him, she moved in and around his sword.

She brought her knee up into his stomach.

He doubled over and she hit the back of his head with her sword handle.

He stayed down.

The other man was picking himself off the floor.

She brought the back of her sword down hard on his temple. He too did not get up.

She turned to see Paul and Wilmot still fighting.

Wilmot seemed to be tiring.

Paul was bigger and in a rage causing problems for Wilmot.

As she watched, Paul broke through Wilmot’s defence and struck him in the neck.

The head bounced of the tent wall and landed face down.

Maria went to Paul.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Apart from a few cuts, yes." was his answer.

Before they could do anything else, the tent flap opened and several men, lead by Eachann and Bowen entered the tent.

They stopped when they saw Maria and Paul standing next to the headless body of Wilmot.

Maria and Paul held their swords at the ready.

"Let’s not do anything hasty." said Maria.

"Your leader is dead. You have no one to pay you."

She hoped.

Eachann only smiled.

"I am well know around here." he said. "They don’t care who leads them. As long as they get paid."

"I’d like to thank you." he continued. "I now have something to occupy my retirement."

"How did you even get free?" asked Paul.

"There are always patrols in camps like these." said Bowen.

"One came near us and we were able to cause enough of a raucous to attract their attention."

"Now." said Eachann. "Why don’t you put down your swords and surrender. You certainly don’t stand a chance against all of us."

He gestured to the people behind them as well as those she could see through the open flap.

"We certainly don’t have anything to worry about from you." he finished.

"No, but you may have something better to worry about." said a voice from further in the tent.

There was a moment of silence and then everyone turned to look in the direction of the voice.

Morag was standing, staring at them.

On her face was a huge smile.

Her once tanned skin was now a dull grey.

And her once beautiful eyes were now a grim yellow.