The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “Even so, war awaits,” replied the mage as he started downhill. The rest of the company followed his example and prepared to move down from the mount. Tyler was in a hurry. The exile had mentioned that the battle was still in its initial phase. There was time to salvage the situation.

  The mage had barely moved four steps when he heard a familiar voice, together with the now momentary, though annoying, displacement of energy indicating the arrival of a magical being.

  What now? reacted the irritated mage as he turned to face the newcomer.

  “Havard, stop. The Archmage is not allowed to interfere in purely mortal conflicts,” said Odin.

  What?

  Chapter Eleven

  Proxies

  “Glad to see you too, old man,” replied the mage, noting that his immediate environment was frozen in time. The frequency of such stop-time events was starting to be vexatious.

  Even Eira was immobile. A singularly beautiful statue, the idle thought emerged in his mind. He knew he blamed himself for her terrible abduction by powerful and evil entities. One would have thought the traumatic incident would have left scars on her gorgeous features. But she looked as beautifully innocent as ever.

  She didn’t doubt you would rescue her, Tyler, the emotional reminder rose in his mind. And she’s a strong woman. But I hate to think of what would have happened if I failed.

  Odin was still in his battle armor and was holding the mystical spear, Gungnir. The god’s gear appeared to have been repaired since the time he called upon the deity during the battle against Sutr’s forces. But Odin’s body was smoking as the god stood before him. Hot wisps rose from numerous places and the mage could feel the heat from the equipment. The old man must have come directly from another clash with their reanimated foes. This time, he was apparently engaged against a fire creature or creatures.

  “My apologies for the abrupt arrival, Havard. But you were going to make a huge mistake,” replied the god with hurried concern.

  I am still on a first-name basis, thought Tyler, I think that’s a good sign. Before, it was Archmage, lad, or boy all over the place.

  “I thought the rules on mortal interference applied only to the pantheons and not to mortal mages,” said Tyler promptly. The mage had thought about what he was going to do and assumed that he wasn’t breaking any damned rule. He was starting to be irritated, but also curious.

  “I’ll be quick,” said the deity, “There’s a bunch of fire lizards awaiting my attention.”

  “Draken?” inquired Tyler, thinking of Gullin.

  “I know what you mean, but these cannot be called draken. They’re a much-debased form. More like beasts. No brains at all, with only base hunger and instinct for revenge. Surprisingly, they remembered us killing them and they’re not happy. But let’s discuss what you were going to do and the primary rule for an Archmage,” explained the lord of the Norse pantheon hastily.

  Odin quickly explained that though an Archmage is not bound by the rules governing the deities, it has been long agreed, since the time an Archmage first appeared on Adar, that the mortal able to attain such a rank cannot interfere with the politics of kingdoms. Archmages and First Mages were powerful individuals. To give them free reign over the issue of involving themselves in mortal affairs could lead to one mortal ruling all the empires and kingdoms of Adar. In the early days, it was feared that such an ambition would inevitably lead to new Divine Wars as the gods would inevitably take sides. But after the last Divine War which laid down the proscription against the involvement of deities in human conflicts, the rule became more important. With gods out of the equation, a mortal with such abilities could rule as emperor of the entire continent. It was a potential state of affairs obviously not acceptable to any of the pantheons. Such an event would lead to an open war between the mortal mage and the entire gamut of deities and similar powerful entities.

  “These warring parties did pray to you and the other Norse gods, didn’t they? So, on which side are you on?” inquired Tyler.

  “None. Internecine warfare among empires and kingdoms is a matter to be settled among humans. Whoever wins would have to deal with us anyway,” replied Odin with a knowing grin.

  “What you said meant an Archmage, though mortal, has restrictions similar to deities. It’s not fair,” protested Tyler.

  “Without the religious trappings, but with the requisite enemies and nefarious plots,” added Odin. “Sorry, lad, but that’s the way the game is played. Unless you want to take on several pantheons. The Greeks and the Norse might let it slide, but others will not be so forgiving. News of an Archmage actively participating in a human political struggle is bound to spread quickly.”

  Tyler stared at Odin disbelievingly. It was grossly discriminatory, yet the reason made sense. An ambitious human Archmage could conceivably establish a vast empire on his own, provided he or she made sure that deities were not involved in the wars. Manipulation of that absence was not impossible and didn’t need the nefarious mind of a Loki to work out the details. But it was also anathema for him to sit idly by, watching as his friends get slaughtered on the battlefield.

  “The prohibition applies to me alone? How about my companions?” he asked the deity.

  “Astrid and Thyma can’t be part of it. They retain aspects of their parents which would turn the battle into a free-for-all since deities would have a hand in it. Zeus also wouldn’t be happy seeing Greek demigoddesses being active participants in a Norse civil war. Nor could your beautiful wife be involved. The ranger and your shadow are mortal, so the exclusion does not apply to them,” said Odin, who then looked at Asag with distaste.

  “That burden of yours poses a dilemma—a deity yet a demon. Only the western pantheons could have such a being. The rules are not clear as to him, and I sense no trace of the geas laid upon us about mortal affairs. Your decision, Havard. Though even with one good eye, I could see that involving that creature would entail great risk on your part,” mused the deity pensively.

  Tyler quickly glanced at the rock deity. The demon did inform him about missing the last Divine War due to its imprisonment. However, Asag never told the mage whether he participated in such great struggles. Odin’s warning does bear consideration, considered the mage. The lord of the Nordic pantheon had precognition abilities that one ignored at his or her peril. Yet it appeared something about the demon clouded Odin’s perception.

  “I’ll think about it, Allfather, and I thank you for the warning and advice,” said Tyler.

  “You better heed it, Havard. I feel a coldness in my bones when I think about it. But for now, I have to get back to sending those cursed beasties back to their deaths. Hopefully, permanently this time,” chuckled the god, though his eyes were worried. It was evident that he believed Tyler would be committing another mistake.

  But the mage wasn’t overly concerned about Odin’s warning. He had friends in need and was looking at a large enough loophole in the curious and ambiguous rules that governed deities and the use of magic. He glanced at the now moving tableau before him and saw the companions looking at him strangely. They felt something had happened. Even Eira was clearly waiting for him to speak.

  “Explain away, my Master,” blurted Asag, his tone marked with irritation. “Burden. Creature. The old man really knows his insults.”

  Asag heard everything? He saw through Odin’s magic? thought the startled mage. What the fuck is this guy? Demon, deity, or whatever?

  But even if he wanted to discuss the unusual matter with the rock deity, the rest were waiting for his explanation. Tyler faced the company and gave a summary of what just happened – Odin came and told him not to interfere due to a rule among the gods. Nor can the Oracle and the Valkyrie take part.

  Astrid visibly stiffened upon hearing her exclusion and took her anger out on a nearby tree. Unlike Asag, the Valkyrie couldn’t step up and curse the deities in her homeland. Thyma just gave a wry smile but remained her quiet self. The mage remembered that he had pro
mised himself that he would talk to Thyma about the change in her personality.

  Time. Shit. I need time to do all of those things. I couldn’t even practice magic or think about what’s happening on the grand scale. I haven’t even visited Asem, reflected Tyler morosely. I hope Fossegrim would give me some opportunities before we try for Banna.

  “I am willing to go and try to help, sire,” voiced Habrok.

  Tyler nodded and then looked at the exile. Kobu caught his glance and asked whether the mage wanted him to go. Tyler guessed the warrior sensed his tremendous disappointment but also saw it as a matter of honor for his liege. And honor was what made Kobu keep going. He even fought Tyndur over it. Now, Tyler’s reputation and sense of worth were on the line, and the mage knew that the exile would take it personally, too.

  “If my liege allowed it, I would go in his place,” said the warrior as he bowed formally. “You have Astrid and Thyma with you. Blade and magic sufficient to protect your person.”

  Tyler returned a slight nod and gave his permission. The Jarl of Hedmark needed all the help he could get right now. He touched the ring given by Sarva back in Barrens and then talked to the entity within.

  “Battle calls, Master?” asked the bull.

  “It does, but your power today will be wielded by one who has my trust. Make me proud,” said Tyler.

  “I will, Master. It will feel good to be out again. Crushing enemies and smashing them into the ground,” replied Curavali.

  “A cyclone, you will be indeed,” laughed the mage inwardly. The spirit could only be on the material plane fifteen minutes at a time. Still, Tyler figured that’s enough time for mayhem to be created among tightly packed warriors.

  Probably scare the wits out of horses too, he reflected.

  Calling out to Kobu, he gave the ring to the exile and whispered instructions on how to use it. Curavali would obey the warrior. At least for the duration of the battle. The exile bowed again and didn’t say anything. He knew the power that was given to him to use.

  “You’re troubled, husband,” whispered Eira softly. Tyler was aware his wife could sense his worry and dilemma. At least she let him work out some of the problems by himself. Eira had this pragmatic and incisive streak. She knew when to stay in the background and not add to the worries besetting her husband.

  “I still am. I fear the help of Kobu and Habrok wouldn’t be enough,” replied the mage apprehensively.

  “That leaves you Asag. I admit I am concerned not only by the Alföðr’s warning but also by the fact that he couldn’t be more specific. That bodes ill,” commented Eira.

  “I didn’t think of that. Thanks. Yet I am torn by the plight of friends,” said Tyler.

  “I leave it to you, husband. I trust you would make the right decision,” smiled the forest spirit.

  “I am sorry, Eira. I really thought we’d be on our way back home, not in the middle of yet another war,” apologized the mage. Weariness was in his voice.

  “Hush. We’re together and that’s all that matters now. Wars and battles come and go. Fortune might direct us down a difficult path, but as long as I have you by my side, I am not concerned,” added Eira, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  The mage smiled back. Eira always had a way of getting him back on track. He felt the burden of his worries lighten, and a calmness descended on his mind. It could be the result of a magical spell. It might be human emotion. But how it came about didn’t matter. Tyler felt better and that was what he needed. His sight turned to Asag who was still entranced by the sight of bloodshed and vicious struggle down on the plain. He still didn’t know what to do with the demon, and he’d be a fool to ignore Odin’s warning. But then again, Asag’s power would easily tilt the weight of battle in the jarls’ favor. Tyler had already concluded that the duo of Habrok and Kobu wouldn’t be enough. They needed another addition to their group to make the impact the mage wanted.

  Shit. This is one of the times I miss Tyndur’s “swina bqllr!” battlecry, thought the mage. The trio of Habrok, Kobu, and Tyndur would have been enough to balance the battle.

  He knew all that was needed to win was breaking the spirit of the enemy to continue. Tyler figured the three would have sufficed. Kobu’s battle leadership would see the jarls through. But the einherjar wasn’t around, and he was left with the choice of whether or not to use a crazy and unpredictable rock demon-deity. The worse part was Tyler knew the demon could sense his vacillation and worry through their bond.

  The bastard must be laughing at me, reflected the mage. It’s the classic “damned if you and damned if you don’t” situation.

  ***

  As he watched Habrok and Kobu check their gear, an idea slowly formed in the mage’s mind. Tyler wasn’t sure if it was foolhardy or inspired. But he had to tread a fine line between Asag revealing himself as a demon-deity or as a lowly magic wielder whose abilities would necessarily be limited by rank and knowledge. One extreme would be overkill and the other, ineffectual. But the demon wasn’t with the two mortals. He continued to be oddly engrossed with the sight of the massive host that was the High King’s army. Tyler was puzzled. Asag would have been familiar with such spectacles. Human and non-human wars would have been a staple during his long existence.

  “Anything strange or out of place, Asag?” he asked the companion. There was always the chance that Asag had spotted something out of the ordinary.

  “Nothing, Archmage. I have always been perplexed by such physical conflicts. The immense efforts, the blind self-sacrifice, the misdirected blood lust,” grinned the demon mischievously. “Never have I seen so many people dedicated to the cause of mass stupidity. Must be a racial trait.”

  Shaking his head at the mocking reply, he turned to Astrid and asked whether the Nordic pantheon had any rock deity. Her response was that only one deity remained who came close to what could be called a god or goddess of stone – Jörð, the goddess of earth and Thor’s mother. The rest were dead or presumed dead. Only Odin and the Norns reputedly knew of the fate of the missing gods, other than those who died in the Divine Wars.

  “Any mage specializing in rock magic?” asked Tyler.

  “None among humans. The Norse tend to go with the elemental persuasions of the gods. But such practitioners could be found among the dwarves. Given their fondness for underground halls and buried wealth, that was expected,” replied Astrid.

  After thanking the demigoddess, the mage turned his attention to Asag who was watching him curiously. The mage beckoned to the demon while gesturing to the ranger and the exile to wait. The entity slowly walked towards Tyler, the misgiving apparent on his face.

  “Now what’s this all about?” asked Asag as he drew near, quite unable to mask the mixture of suspicion and apprehension.

  “You’re going to be a guest magus, an exotic import from a land far away,” grinned Tyler, suddenly announcing his plan to the deity.

  “The devil I am!” groaned the shocked demon.

  ***

  Despite the demon’s protests and misgivings, Tyler told him to adopt the guise of a western mage specializing in stone and rock. The mage assumed that those in Skaney would have no idea whether those lands did have such magical practitioners. Deities presumably would know, but they were not involved in the current struggle.

  “No giant forms or exhibitions of godly abilities. Come to think of it, even demonic abilities,” warned the mage. He knew his plan was already skating on thin ice, as the saying went, but hoped restraint would suffice. Tyler acknowledged that the tightrope he was using was fragile, indeed.

  “What a waste,” remarked Asag crossly, as his form shifted to one more appropriate to a mage, or what people expected of a mage.

  The jarls of Hedmark and Voss would recognize Kobu and Habrok and as a result, Asag’s disguised presence won’t be questioned. Unfortunately, Asag choice of colors for his hooded robe was outrageously distinctive – red, green, and yellow hues dominated a field of orange. It was an atrocious assaul
t on the visual senses.

  “What’s that?” asked Tyler in horrified fascination.

  “My disguise. More colorful than what was practiced where I came from, but strikingly attractive, isn’t it?” chortled the demon. Asag knew what he was doing.

  “You’d attract attention and attacks out there!” protested the mage. Even the rest of the company was desperately trying to hold back their laughter. Eira was already snickering behind the mage’s back.

  “Precisely. I aim to enjoy myself, given the severe limitations you imposed. I was so hoping to have a great time being my true self. There’s no flaming or icy giant on the horizon, and that would have been a perfect opportunity to smash and crush. But, as a lowly servant, I do have to follow my master’s dictates,” came the demon’s sarcastic explanation.