For Services Rendered
A Tale of LordDiomedes

"Lieutenant?

Diomedes turned from looking out at the deck of the Hazelett, and turned to the second officer with a nod.

"Yes, Sergeant Graybole, what's the problem? After several months, local time, and honing shadow to where he would fit in, Diomedes felt comfortable with this strange, exotic world he had found in shadow. Sorcery and technology came together here in a strange mix that, perhaps, not even his older cousins had ever thought to find. There was much to learn here that he might take back to realms closer than Amber. There were still many surprises.

"It's the Captain and the detachment that went to the island. They they have not returned, sir."

Diomedes blinked in surprise. What do you mean they have not returned? There has been no word whatsoever? Even as he was speaking, Diomedes walked across the deck of the ship, to the port side, which faced the small, unnamed island that lay between the broken coast of Cygnar, and the Scharde Islands partly ruled by the dread draconic overlord. Diomedes peered over the side of the ship to the uncharted, and as far as he was aware, unnamed island. Something stood at the edge. Something large.

"Quick, bring a glass, Sergeant." Diomedes called, waving a hand frantically.

The form resolved itself as Diomedes peered through the glass. Tall, metallic, and striding along the boundary of the island. Diomedes lowered the glass and offered it to the older hand. What would you make of that, Graybole? he asked.

Sgt. Graybole peered through the glass for as long a time as had Diomedes. When he lowered it, he turned to Diomedes. "It's a steamjack, right enough. It looks odd, to be marching around like that without outside direction or a controller nearby. Captain Vandyis and our men must be caught in the caves in that hillock that it keeps passing." As Graybole continued, Diomedes continued to look, without aid of the glass, at the island.

"Something Toruk has stolen and warped to his purpose, perhaps." Diomedes continued, speaking aloud for the benefit of the Sergeant and himself alike. He looked at Graybole. "Sergeant, keep an eye out for anyone that might be psychically controlling that thing. Do not hesitate to shoot them if you see them."

Diomedes continued to stare as the ship circled the island for the next hour, fruitless in its search for someone who might be controlling the steamjack. Finally, he slammed a fist into his palm and summoned Graybole.

"I won't risk any more of our men, but the exploration party has to be rescued. ? Diomedes? tone was stern and uncompromising. I'll deal with this thing, myself. Captain Vandyis would expect nothing less from me."

~o~

Diomedes rowed the small boat slowly toward the island. The strange, out of control steamjack was currently on the far side of the island, watching over the caves where his captain and his fellow crewmen, the exploration party of the Hazelett, were trapped.

As the rowboat reached the shallows near the rocky strip that served as a beach, Diomedes stopped rowing and stepped ashore with trepidation. As his boots touched the ground, a loud clanking erupted from the not so distant thing of metal. It turned, and began walking toward Diomedes with purpose.

"Move...Move." Diomedes silently pleaded to the cave. He stood stock still to an outside viewer, but inside, he was calling up the arcane spells he had prepared to deal with this monstrosity. As the steamjack neared Diomedes, he got a much better look at it. It was a pretty large specimen of such things that Diomedes had seen before in this shadow.

Fifteen feet tall, it looked like the mechanical equivalent of a metallic golem, with a helmed head, and belching smoke from a couple of vents because of the coal furnace that powered it. It carried a mace nearly as large as Diomedes, a sooty black piece of metal that was held loosely, nearly dragging on the ground. Some steamjacks could even use the odd arcane firearms they used here, but this one was not so equipped.

"First of all, let's slow you down." Diomedes said. Although the steamjack was not advancing at a fast rate toward him, Diomedes still brought up the arcane words to the first spell he had readied to deal with his foe.

The air shimmered outward in a widening cone as it spread toward the steamjack's furnace. In the afternoon sun, one could see that the moisture in the air traversed by the cone cooled, from vapor, to liquid water, to snow flakes. The widest part of the cone struck the steamjack, the heated metal of the monstrosity sizzling from the cold spell.

The steamjack did not slow down, or even hesitate, and in fact raised its mace as it continued to advance on Diomedes.

Diomedes grimaced and drew out Pagono. Like a dancer, he shifted his stance, placing his weight on his right leg, waiting as the steamjack advanced and prepared to flatten Diomedes with a single blow from its weapon. The belching metal monstrosity swung the mace downward...

...but Diomedes was not there when the mace struck the ground. Instead, he moved forward, swinging his sword against one of the leg joints of the machine as he continued moving behind the steamjack. The resounding clang heartened Diomedes, but as he turned to face it, he looked up in surprise to see a skull mounted on the shoulder look directly at him.

And laugh.

The steamjack stopped its forward momentum with impossible speed, and turned around to face Diomedes. Diomedes could now see that there was four of those skulls, two on each shoulder, mounted Janus-style. Both of the forward facing skulls now stared with socketless eye sockets, the eyes on the head of the metal machine making a total of six looking at Diomedes.

Diomedes stepped backwards, not daring to show his back to his opponent. The steamjack advanced, step by step, driving him to the side of the island opposite that where he had landed his skiff. Diomedes dodged two swipes with the mace, when he failed to retreat fast enough and came within its range. A sound finally caused him to turn around. He could just see, unloading on the side of the island the steamjack was driving him toward, another skiff, full of men, and women. Pirates.

Diomedes quickly realized that he was being caught between two foes, that, if his suspicions were right, were one and the same.

Diomedes whirled his head back and forth, and then made a decision. As the steamjack advanced and now came within the sight of the pirates, Diomedes, cut to the left, muttering the words to a spell as he ran up a small hillock. When he reached the top of it, he sprang his legs, as he unleashed the spell.

Into the air Diomedes sprang, as if he suddenly possessed a pole vault. Well beyond the reach of the steamjack, and to its rear he flew, finally landing on in the surf on the shore of the island, not far away from his own skiff. As he strode toward it, spell worn off, he watched as the steamjack continued to go forward, toward the pirates.

Diomedes looked on in horror as the pirates, clearly now no controllers or allies of the monstrosity, scattered, around, into the interior of the island. One of the pirates, a young man, could not escape the reach of his adversary, and as Diomedes watched, the victim was grabbed, and stuffed into the waiting furnace in the center of the chest of the steamjack.

His unearthly screams of pain, as if his very soul was being tortured along with his body, chilled all hearers on the island, Diomedes included. It took an effort of will for Diomedes to reach the skiff and shove off. Only one of the pirates came within hailing distance as Diomedes began rowing, but the danger of the metal monstrosity kept him from stopping his flight back to the Hazelett.

"Lieutenant!" Sergeant Graybole said in relief once Diomedes climbed up to the deck of the ship. ?Thank The Radiance of Morrow that you are safe! And you did mark, sir, the ship circling the island toward us??

"Pirates" Diomedes finally answered the Sergeant, once he was seated with a cup of mulled wine in the cabin. "I thought that the thing was controlled by they, Graybole, but they...they were just as much targets as I."

Graybole nodded. "Sir, I saw as you escaped, that some of the pirates fled into one of the caves, near to where our men and the Captain are trapped. The steamjack now watches both, like a fox does two rabbit holes, waiting for prey to emerge."

"It cannot range so far now, doing so." Diomedes murmured.

Two hours later, Diomedes stood on the spot he had when he was spying the steamjack not so very long ago. This time, however, he waas staring at the black sailed ship that was perhaps a half turn around the island from the Hazelett.

"Something on the deck of the ship is trying to get our attention, Graybole.? Diomedes said to the gray haired Sergeant. "The glass, please."

Diomedes lowered the glass after giving a long piercing look. "A white flag." Diomedes murmured, more to himself than to Graybole. His next words were louder and directed to the man standing next to him.

"They want to parley."

~o~

An hour and a half later, Diomedes rowed the skiff toward the small atoll near to the island with the steamjack. It barely rated the term atoll, Diomedes thought, it certainly would be pretentious to call it an island of any sort, since it was only half the size of the rocky isle where the crew members from both ships were under threat.

A tall tent already stood, constructed, on the center of the island. Diomedes regarded it as he approached the shore of the nameless meeting point. At least it would provide some protection from the light misty rain that had rolled into the area in the past hour. On the opposite side of the island stood the skiff from the Drakenberg, the Pirate ship. Black as pitch and with a ram on its prow, it seemed designed to intimidate vessels of similar size. It was who was in the tent, however, that Diomedes was more concerned about than designs on a skiff.

Stopping his forward progress with the skiff, and pulling it up the rocky beach enough to escape the tide, Diomedes straightened himself out by running his hand down his uniform and walked boldly to the tent. Reaching the threshold, he plucked at the entrance with fingers, and spoke.

"Lieutenant Pericles, acting commander of the Hazelett seeking parley with the Captain of the Drakenberg." Diomedes called, formally, bowing his head as if expecting the pirate leader to see the gesture through the empty tent.

A moment passed, and then two, and then a voice responded. To Diomedes' surprise, it was female.

"Commander Sabela of the Drakenberg bids the Lieutenant to enter."

Diomedes did so, stopping short as the figure sitting in the camp chair rose to greet him. Diomedes tried not to stare, but he managed only with difficulty. Commander Sabela was not only female, she was clearly not human. She was tall for a woman, taller than Diomedes if one counted the curved horns that rose upward from her brow. Diomedes' eyes briefly were drawn to them. Ornate, polished, one might say, and clearly a point of pride and vanity. Sabela's hair was a lustrous black that reminded Diomedes of Dina's. Sabela's eyes were mysterious pools of a dark ichor that seemed to bore into Diomedes soul. Her face was at once both hard and soft, the stern mien of a commander of men, and an unearthly softness to the lines that Diomedes found alluring.

She was clothed in piecework armor. It wasn't patchwork in the sense of the quality, the shoulder guard and the left arm guard were polished and well taken care of, as were the kilt like metal skirt around her midsection, the greaves on her lower legs, and her iron tipped boots. As she took a step or two toward Diomedes, he noticed the fluid grace of her movements that reminded him somewhat of Miho.

"The pleasure is mine." Sabela said next, fixing Diomedes with those eyes. ?Would you care to sit? Some wine, perhaps, a Cygnaran vintage?" Diomedes nodded, turning and seating himself in the camp chair near to the tent flap.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Diomedes responded. He found excuse to tear his eyes away from the commander to look at the tent. Besides the camp chairs, a writing table, and a trunk, only a bedroll, propped up against a corner provided anything for Diomedes to study. Sabela opened the trunk, and produced a short, stubby bottle and two glasses.

Sabela poured two glasses and then offered them both in the direction of Diomedes, as if to offer him the choice of which glass. Diomedes blinked in surprise at the gesture, unfamiliar to him in the world of the Iron Kingdoms. He selected the glass on the left and took it from Sabela's hand. The unexpected coolness of the glass stopped him from taking a sip until Sabela took one from her glass. The wine was a typical vintage for this part of this shadow, but it was cooler than it had any right to be.

A small cantrip, thought Diomedes. A warrior-mage, then.

Sabela sat down, and gestured toward Diomedes.

"We have a common foe, as you no doubt now know. I do not hold you responsible for fleeing when the thing attacked you and my men at the same time. You probably thought it was under my men's control?"she asked, those eyes staring intently at Diomedes.

"Well, yes." Diomedes admitted. ?Ever since we've seen the thing, we've been looking for its controller. When your men landed right as the thing was chasing me, I immediately thought the 'jack controller was among their party. I wonder if your men thought that I was leading the steamjack toward them. Until I bugged out."

"We have a common problem." Sabela said. "You have men, including your captain, trapped in a cave by it." she said. "And now so do I. I will not abandon members of my crew to the tender mercies of that uncontrolled device."

Diomedes stared at her in shock. It sounded very much out of line with the stories and his experiences with pirates. There was a chord of honor here that Diomedes did not expect. He finally nodded.

"We have an advantage, now, though, if we two work in concert against it." Diomedes says. "Have you noticed that the Steamjack does not move as much as it did previously?"

The strange horned woman nodded. "What of it?" she asked.

"Its like a game of chess. The Steamjack is pinned, because it has two bolt holes to watch. Its paralyzed by the prospect of so much...prey, it doesn't want to risk any of it. So it stands guard now between the two caves. We can use that, Commander. A chess piece pinned is vulnerable to attack."

Diomedes paused a beat and then smiled ferally. "Especially to a double attack. The thing is strong and dangerous, but a double, concerted attack from you and I might be what is needed."

Sabela took a long sip of the wine, as did Diomedes, as she considered his words. Her eyes raked him mercilessly, a penetrating gaze that seemed to try and look inside Diomedes' very soul. Finally she smiled.

"Let us say that we meet here again in four hours, and travel across together for our attack. The longer we wait, the more there is risk to those under our command." she said. "Until, then, Lieutenant Pericles." There was an odd inflection on the last word, but Diomedes put the drained glass down, rose, and bowed.

"Until then, Commander."

Diomedes left the tent and walked at a comfortable pace back to the skiff, and rowed back to the waiting Hazelett.

Graybole lit into Diomedes not long after his return to the ship and Diomedes told his story. "With all due respect, Lieutenant.", Graybole said, looking sternly at Diomedes. ?You know the stories about them. If you are not among their crew, you are their prey. And sometimes not even their crew is safe from their depradations. Even if we have current cause at this moment. If I didn't owe my life to the Captain, I'd say to sod her off and head back to Cygnar and leave the men, rather than deal with her and her crew."

Diomedes nodded, and turned away from the loyal Sergeant to the railing of the ship. "We're committed to helping the Captain and the men. And so we will work together with the pirates to free them. There is something odd about their leader, though."

"Of course there is.? Graybole said. "She's a Satyxis, from the way you described her to me. She's not human. She's a twisted servant of Toruk, don't forget it."

"I won't." Diomedes replied, nodding. And then, softly to himself. "There's more to her than that, though, I'm sure of it."

Four hours later, with spells readied and a small amount of sleep obtained, Diomedes found himself rowing back to the treaty island once more. This time he was first, and stood upon the small isle as he watched the prow of the pirate cutter move ever closer. Diomedes watched as the satyxis, as Graybole had named her, rowed the boat. The movement of her arms to drive the cutter to the shore was graceful, fluid and as lithe as his experience with her in the tent had led him to expect. When she disembarked and stepped onto the shore, Diomedes bowed formally.

"And so we have met again, to fight the common foe." Sabela spoke first, giving a bow equal to the one offered by Diomedes. "May the strength of our arms not fail, and may our spells release with success."

Diomedes nodded. ?May they both be so. You are a fighter and a mage, both, then?? Diomedes said, as he followed her to her cutter, the closer boat, to speak a little before the battle. The smile that Sabela gave was feral, as she tipped her horned head in his direction. ?As you are, Lieutenant Pericles.?

"I'm not a gun mage, though." Diomedes admitted. "My type of magic is a little more traditional. As you will soon see. We'd better keep out of each other's line of fire, though." Diomedes warned. "However, taking advantage of the distraction that the other provides for that thing..."

"My sentiments exactly." Sabela smiled. That smile faded quickly, and the satyxis pointed at the nearby island with the steamjack. One of the pirates burst out of the cave at top speed, running for the boat that still lay upon the shore. He did not manage to get ten yards before the steamjack grabbed him, and like Diomedes had seen before, stuffed him, screaming, into the furnace. Diomedes blinked as he felt a ripple of energy strike him.

Necromantic.

"It's the Deathjack." Diomedes said as he stared at Sabela. "It's the only thing that makes sense. It's a legend in Cygnar, about a unholy fusion of unlife and a robo...steamjack. Its powered by unlife, its like a wraith inhabiting a metal shell. Its here, and its real, and its eating the essences of our men to survive."

"It needs souls to feed?" Sabela asked.

"Yes. And it means we don't have time to waste. Every one of our crews who try to escape will fuel the thing, make it stronger. But it certainly gives me ideas for tackling it."

Sabela's smile was grim, rather than feral. "Then let's to our boats and have at it."

Diomedes circled the island in his rowboat, watching carefully as Sabela made her way, slowly, across the shorter distance to the nearer shore. He admired her sense of timing, as her boat did not reach the island's shore until his, on the far side of the middle section of the island, did as well. A valley of sorts provided Diomedes view to that side of the island. The Deathjack stood on one of the hillocks, facing Sabela, casually lifting its mace and preparing to deal with the intruder on the island.

Diomedes stepped forward, unsheathed Pagono, and spoke the words of the spell. "...Murus adigo."

The Deathjack stepped one more step forward, and then stumbled, caught by the invisible and unexpected wall of force Diomedes laid in front of its feet. The undead automaton went down onto one of its knees. As Diomedes watched, Sabela took that opportunity to strike. Two streaking arcane missiles struck the Deathjack. One of the skulls on its shoulders exploded into pieces from the left hand missile. The second missile went into the opening of its furnace, and a small explosion suggested that the latter missile did far more damage inside than the first did to the outside.

Still, the wounds and the knocking to one knee far from finished the Deathjack. It sprung up with surprising speed, fast enough to catch Sabela and Diomedes off guard. It lunged forward with its mace, hitting Sabela with a glancing blow of its fist, and she fell backwards onto the rocks of the beach.

For a half second, Diomedes considered the situation. With the Deathjack busy with Sabela, he could run to the caves, and free the captain and crew of the Hazelett. It wouldn't pursue, it would be giving up its prey in the other cave. Get away and be away from the accursed island and leave the pirates to the Deathjack.

Diomedes did not give the thought any more consideration, and instead ran forward, shouting the words to another spell. The spell amplified his voice into a sonic weapon, the cone of sound energy struck the Deathjack in the head and shoulders, shattering the backward facing two skulls.

This stopped the Deathjack in its tracks, and it turned from the prone Sabela to the new and dangerous adversary. It swung its mace into position as it advanced on Diomedes, the latter calmly chanting the words to a spell. The son of Brand just managed to catch the sight of Sabela rising from the ground as the Deathjack reached for Diomedes with its free hand, and, with its furnace opening to greet him, tossed Diomedes into the belly of the beast.

Fifteen seconds passed, and the Deathjack managed to to turn to face its remaining opponent once more. Sabela spoke the words to another spell, the kinetic energy missile striking it squarely in the head, apparently stunning or confusing the machine. It didn't quite get a chance to recover and retaliate against Sabela when the torso of the Deathjack exploded, and it fell over backwards. It did not quite fall apart as it hit the ground, but the body of the automaton is broken and cracked in several places. One piece, in the torso, lifted up from without, and, slowly, Diomedes emerged to a very surprised Sabela. She regarded him with wonder as, covered with soot, he shook himself off and tottered toward where she was standing. Diomedes did not even notice that the imprisoned individuals of both caves were emerging.

"You destroyed it." Sabela said, surprised. "How?"

Diomedes shook his head as he slowly approached. "Couldn't have done it without your help. When your missile exploded inside of it, I realized that the furnace was its vulnerable point. I didn't want to chance trying to hit inside of it again and again while it took swings at us, so I arranged for it to swallow me, and use a force-bubble explosion spell, to finish it.

"You did not have to do that." Sabela replied. "You could have escaped, with your Captain, with your men, when the Deathjack came to finish me." She limped forward slightly to help bridge the distance between her and Diomedes.

"I could have." Diomedes admitted. "But that would have been dishonorable, and wrong. I promised to help you free our men, and I wasn't going to stab you in the back for a quick advantage."

"No." Sabela said. "No, you wouldn't, would you. Now, Lieutenant, I suppose we are to each go back to our ships." The survivors of the pirate crew had slowly given Diomedes a wide berth to stand behind Sabela, as the survivors of the Hazelett slowly formed behind Diomedes.

"However." she added. "Tomorrow, on the eve of night, I wish us to meet on the other island, to conclude our business before we part our separate ways."

Diomedes looked back at the men of the ship, and regarded the Captain, who was being supported by two of the other men. The Captain gave a nod, and Diomedes turned. "Agreed." Diomedes said.

~o~

At the appointed hour, Diomedes slowly rowed the rowboat toward the island, and the tent still standing upon it. The Captain was in stable condition, the ship's healer was attending to the wounds he had received in his flight from the Deathjack into the cave. He had not protested, all things considered, to Diomedes asking for the ship to stay the extra day as Sabela had requested. With his defeat of the Deathjack, there were whispers on the ship about Diomedes, but of the type of wonder, rather than derision. At least, the whispers that reached Diomedes ears professed as such.

Sabela came out of the tent and saluted Diomedes as he reached and stepped off on the shore. He noted that she was in full armor, and her sword was scabbarded on her belt. Diomedes repeated the gesture, and stopped a measured six feet away from her.

"It is the custom of my Ho...relatives to fight a formal duel with those whom we have the opportunity to do so." she said. "I so wish a duel to the yield, with you." Sabela unsheathed her sword, a finely crafted long sword, and saluted Diomedes with it.

"Wait a moment." Diomedes held up a hand, taken aback in surprise. He didn't step backwards, but his hand strayed to Pagono. "We fought together, defeating the Deathjack.?"

"That we did so, by arcane spell." Sabela agreed. "I have not had a chance to test my blade, and neither have you. Have you never fought a duel, for the sake of the art of the blade?" Sabela's eyes pierced him.

"Well, yes, of course I have." Diomedes blurted out in response without thinking. "I just didn't expect a friendly duel to be the climax to our business." He regarded her up and down once more and then came to a decision point.

"So let it be. To the yield" Diomedes drew Pagono.

Sabela was quick and lithe with the blade, despite its relatively long size. She pressed her attack with surprising aggression, as if to see if a fierce opening attack would carry the day quickly for her. Diomedes remembered many lessons and many practices and gave ground slowly, defending and parrying the furious attack with a variety of parries, switching from simple counters to sweeping ones that only allowed her the lightest of hits upon him. Slowly, he ground Sabela's attack to a halt, and then began to throw ripostes and actual aggressive moves of his own in turn. Sabela seemed surprised at his skill, and Diomedes managed a couple of more hits than she had on him on her. Diomedes attack soon ebbed to a halt, though, as she switched to a defensive posture that he found difficulty in penetrating.

The ebb and flow continued in this fashion, until the two fighters found themselves with their blades bound together again and again, and standing very close together. Sabela's eyes shone, and the look in them was hungry. For Diomedes part, the give and take of the intimacy of the duel had roused him as well. The exotic beauty, horns and all, was too irresistible. His free hand reached up and behind her to twine in her dark hair, and he pressed his mouth on hers. Her protest was only a little more than token, and soon Sabela dropped her blade with one hand, and, returning the kiss furiously, pulled Diomedes quite willingly backward toward the waiting tent, and its bedroll.

Diomedes blinked as he roused from sleep. The bedroll was still soft, and there was the sound of light rain outside the tent. Of this companion of the night, the strange satyxis, horns and all, there was no sign whatsoever. Diomedes came up to a sitting position and looked about the gray light that filtered from the outside through the tent flap.

It was then and there that he saw the small pouch sitting beside the bedroll. Diomedes picked it up, hefting it, testing its weight. Curious, he undid the drawstrings and reached inside. A few coins, gold, came into his hand. Continuing to reach in, he found some more, as well as a small scroll, and a ring. The latter, of silver, bore a strange crest unfamiliar to Diomedes, a heraldic Griffin.

As for Diomedes, though, his interest, typically, was first and immediately on the small scroll. He unrolled it, to find it a short note in a type of cursive writing unlike any he had seen in any scroll, folio, parchment or book. Still, it was legible and contained but four words.

"For Services Rendered. S."

Diomedes wondered just which service Sabela was referring to, the rescue or the night's activities, or both, as he closed the scroll, and picked up and weighed the mysterious ring in his hand.

Epilogue:

"*That* was certainly not part of the plan." The First figure said to the Second. "Did you have a Sight? Do you have instructions from someone higher than I?"

Sabela turned to the figure and shook her head, smiling. "No, I did it simply because I wanted to do so. I think he enjoyed the experience, too. It's a pity that it will be years before plans come to fruition enough that we will meet again. And now he will have something to puzzle him until that occurs."

~end~