The Bleeding Tower

Chapter Twenty Four, Part One: Altgerian Groove

He arrived at nine of the clock, Earth standard time of course, and everyone in the Chapel heard Robert's door bursting entry. He wasn't the sort for loud entrances but here he stood, no weapon drawn but all seriousness and battle fire. "Dove!" the wayfarer bellowed at the top of his lungs.

He strode in like a giant on a battlefield, before an actual giant stood in his way. Dressed like some sort of grave robber, with a tunneling drill for a hand, the fiery red maned hulk of flesh pointed down at Robert. "You hold on just a second, boy."

"I don't know who you are, but there doesn't need to be trouble. My name is Robert Patterson and I'm here to see the princess."

"There have been hundreds of 'Robert Pattersons' what come this way to see her."

"Papa Khan told me all about it. Not just people in costumes and wigs, but shapeshifters too. If Dove sees me, she'll tell you true."

"Get out of here, pipsqueak." Elijah sneered as the drill began whirring with its mechanical scream.

"No."

Bematists' Blue took Patterson behind his attacker before the drill could smash into the ground. Had I been there, he marveled, I'd definitely be a human doughnut right now. Not wanting to, but seeing that the illusion of choice was gone, he drew his rhomphaia and swung with all his force. The blade never made contact with Elijah's body, but rather the kinetic force behind his swing tore a huge open gash into his back and pushed him forward. His boots never left the ground, friction quickly halting the movement from that blindside. "Well, you've got some teeth at least," the older man grunted as his wound began emitting steam and patching itself closed at a speed Robert only saw in comic books.

"You're Altgerian," not a question. "Maybe not from the kingdom, but you've got their blood in you."

"And what do you know of Altgiers? It was destroyed, long ago, and all records of its existence are nothing but rumors and ruins."

"I was there. When a hundred and forty four thousand men of the Okkobran Alliance smashed their way across the long bridge, and through the walls with that giant black anchor." Gasps all around him, some recoiling and some kneeling as if in reverence. "It was that chaos that saved Dove's life, not me. I just took her away from the battle."

"You lie," Elijah growled and pointed at Red Haired Robert with his drill. "It was Carrie of Cromag that told us the story of you single handedly halting the execution. The sacking of Altgiers was a coincidence!"

"Carrie is a great many things," Robert deadpanned coldly. "A gifted liar above most else."

Everyone froze, only seconds after he found out that it wasn't because of his words. Not by itself, anyway. Turning around, he saw the white robed woman in a giant bird's head hat for what she was. And he knelt before her with deliberate slowness. "My lady," he began, "I've come for you."

"R-Robert..."

The only thing that could have had such an impact on everyone around them, Elijah included, was probably one of Carrie's brainclaps. Her voice was so weak and sick, barely anything more than the sound of pages turning. How long? How long since last she's spoken? "Dove!" one of the initiates, or at least he assumed this younger girl was an initiate, cried out. "Don't strain yourself so!"

"I'm not... strained..."

Those gentle hands of hers rose to the plush head she wore, and it began to pull off. "Dove, no!" Elijah insisted. "You can't take this man at his word, he might just be after your blood, another fool under Primm D'kaarian employ!"

Her mask was off completely before the sentence was complete, and the last princess of Altgiers smiled down at her kneeling cousin. "This one doesn't... even think Primm D'kaar is a real place." Life slowly filled in the hollows of her vocal cords, substance returning to her brittle papyrus throat. "Stand, Bobby. And be true."