The Circle of Sorcerers: A Mages of Bloodmyr Novel: Book #1

by Brian Kittrell

  * * *

  Once his squad had assembled on their side of the courtyard, Laedron looked them over and said, “Remember the plan. Stick to it no matter what happens.”

  The knights bobbed their heads in agreement, then lowered their face plates and straightened their red cloaks. The other squad took the field, each draped in blue. Victor stood in the center and raised his wand into the air. With a brief incantation, a sparkle of light accompanied by a loud pop signaled the start of the match.

  Laedron immediately waved his wand and chanted. A vibrant white pulse of energy flickered from the end of it. He swung his wand into the air and pointed it at the sorcerer in the other squad. Before the other mage had a chance to finish his spell, he fell to the ground.

  The opposing knights gathered around their fallen mage, and one of them took off his helmet. “He's asleep!”

  Laughter erupted from the onlookers, and Victor raised his hand to silence them. “Then carry on, knight.”

  “You said no offensive spells!” the young man said. “He's knocked him to the ground with trickery!”

  “I said no harmful spells, if memory serves,” Victor said, a smile gracing his usual stern expression. “A nap may do him some good.”

  Pausing only to hear Victor's words, Laedron swished his wand from side to side again and uttered his spell. His knights slowly faded from sight until they were completely invisible.

  The young man from the other squad replaced his helmet and drew his wooden sword. “Charge!”

  Halfway across the courtyard, each of the blue knights was struck in turn by unseen forces. The only evidence to the fact was the clanging sound of wooden swords against their metallic exteriors, but it became more apparent when they fell to the ground beneath the battering. Laedron cleared his concentration, and his knights became visible. When they appeared, Marac and the other knights continued the walloping until their opposition begged for mercy.

  From the galleries on either side of the courtyard roared applause and laughter, and Victor stood, clapping his hands. “Excellent work. You've won the field.”

  Laedron and his knights congratulated each other, turning to leave the field as the blue-cloaked knights picked up their sorcerer and retreated.

  “Let's grab an ale, and I'll properly introduce you to the others,” Marac said, wrapping his arm around Laedron's shoulder. “I know a place.”

  “It's fine if we leave the keep?” Laedron asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

  “Ah, still the worrier, Lae!” Marac slapped him on the belly. “Don't worry. I already asked if we could.”

  Laedron grinned and followed them through the castle, out the solid double doors, and to the nearby tavern. Crossing the threshold of the tavern, Laedron noticed how quiet it was inside. “I'd never figured you for a place like this.”

  “Why?” Marac looked around as if something were out of place.

  “There're no women swinging from chandeliers and hardly enough liquor on the floors,” Laedron said.

  Marac laughed. “No, not this time, I'm afraid. I wanted a place where we could talk.”

  “Good. Have you talked to my ma lately?”

  Marac took a seat with the others and waited for Laedron to sit. “Yeah, she's left Reven’s Landing.”

  “Left?” Laedron asked, raising his palms in the air.

  “Yeah. Said she was taking Laren and leaving for a while. Probably better that way.”

  “Did she say where she was going?”

  Marac shook his head. “No, she didn't tell us. For their safety, she said.”

  “I miss them, Marac.”

  “I know, but don't concern yourself with that now. You need to focus on the task at hand.” Marac ordered drinks for all of them. “Care if I introduce you to the others?”

  Laedron nodded, then Marac introduced them. “This is Mikal, and that's Brice.”

  “Nice to meet you... again,” Laedron said. “I've seen you two around Reven’s Landing.”

  Mikal leaned closer. “I've seen you on the pier several times. Laedron Telpist, right?”

  Bowing his head in reply, Laedron took a sip of his ale, then looked at Brice. “Your parents are tailors, aren't they?”

  “My da ran the loom, and Ma did the stitching,” Brice said. “Your mother’s a magician, too, isn't she?”

  “Sorceress,” Laedron corrected.

  “That's what Marac told us. He speaks highly of you,” Brice said.

  “And a great deal better than he likely remembers as fact, I should think.” Laedron smiled before he turned to Marac. “It's strange that we all four come from Reven’s Landing, and we all were brought to the knights.”

  “Our parents got us in,” Marac said. “Our families had money enough to arrange it, and they didn't want us on the front lines. It was either the army or the Shimmering Dawn.”

  “And of the two choices, they chose the more dangerous one?” Laedron asked.

  Marac raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “Dawn Knights don't serve on the front lines, but we do fight, usually behind enemy lines,” Laedron explained. “How is that safer than serving as part of a larger unit?”

  “Better than being thrown against a line of infantry, I'd say,” Mikal said, receiving an encouraging nod from Brice. “I’d rather not be fodder for a cavalry charge, either.”

  “We shall see,” Laedron said. “Maybe you'll wish for those infantry lines the farther along we go.”

  “You're scaring them.” Marac patted Laedron on the arm. “At least we're together again. That has to count for something.”

  “Yeah, it does,” Laedron said, relaxing. “I'm glad to see you.”

  In the distance waned the evening sun, and their cups became empty. Not wanting to be out too late, Laedron recommended that they return to the keep, and they followed him from the tavern and into the streets.

  “One thing I haven't figured out yet,” Laedron said.

  Marac stopped beside him. “What's that, Lae?”

  “You're Heraldan, yet you've joined the knights in order to fight the church. To fight your own church?”

  “It's simple. I'll always have my faith, but what the church did was wrong. It's like my da told me, when it's not about the Creator and Azura anymore, the church is meddling in things they shouldn't.”

  “Good. Do others feel the same way? Other Heraldans?”

  “Yeah. Sorbians are Sorbians. The church invaded our land and killed our people. They had no right to do that, no matter the reason.”

  Mikal nodded. “We heard about the attack on the academy. They said it was a slaughter.”

  Closing his eyes, Laedron lowered his head. “You heard correctly.”

  “How did you escape?” Brice asked when they reached the castle.

  “My teacher got me out of there, but she was lost in the process.” Laedron walked toward the west wing, but then noticed the others had stopped following. “Aren't you coming?”

  “We can't go with you,” Marac said. “That side's for mages only.”

  Laedron dipped his head slowly. “See you in the morning, then. We get our assignments tomorrow.” He continued down the hall to his room and dressed in his bedclothes before extinguishing the lantern.