Luther, Magi: Blood of Lynken II

by Geoffrey C Porter

"Solid. Most gems of power are clear, you can see light through them, but turquoise is solid."

  One of Simon's men laughed. "Have any of you seen it outside of a book?"

  Juxta and Lisa shook their heads.

  A few of Simon's men laughed. A man said, "They keep the dice from you because they see you as some kind of holy man, but we have seen turquoise. Men from your fiefdom throw dice those colors."

  Simon sighed. "If we have to travel there, it'll be three weeks before we are even at the border to the Southlands."

  Juxta reached out and touched Simon's shoulder. "We have no choice. We leave at dawn."

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Roger shouted, "Save some for us!"

  Luther extinguished the fire. "We come in peace!"

  The last remaining Southlander spell caster chanted a horrific series of chirps and clicks.

  A house on Jason's right collapsed, and a six-foot tall spider emerged, shaking the debris off. Jason leaped forward, piercing the arachnid between the eyes. More of the houses began to drop in great clouds of dust and dried-out reeds. Roger jumped to the left and cut downward on a spider's body, almost cleaving the beast in half. It died in a twisting mess of ichor.

  Timothy turned to face the rear. He drew triangles on five spiders and cast lightning on them.

  Luther drew triangles on a few and blasted them. The last of the Southlanders with blades advanced on Roger and Jason. Roger let out a low, rumbling laugh. Jason grimaced. Luther killed a few more of the eight-legged beasts.

  Jason turned and raised his palm at Luther. "These men are ours!"

  Luther watched for more arachnids.

  Roger pointed the business end of the sword at the advancing men. "You men will die."

  The Southlanders rushed forward. Roger and Jason cut them into pieces. After a few minutes, the Southlanders were no more, other than the ones still screaming. Roger was nicked on his left bicep. Luther said a slight chant to heal the cut.

  Luther looked at his hands. The black lines reached just past his wrists into his forearms. What he clearly needed was big gloves. Yes.

  With the men all dead, women and children began to step from behind buildings and out of houses that had not produced spiders.

  Luther poured power into the words and spoke the chant to free them. The Bractar came off their wrists.

  A woman about forty stepped forward. "You have freed us? Why?"

  Roger cleaned ichor off his blade. "We're messengers. We only seek to negotiate with Quintak over a simple trade deal."

  Jason raised his voice, "If you can travel out of this desert, to the north is a land of free men. You don't have to be slaves."

  "The desert is endless in every direction," the woman said.

  "No," Luther said, "if you travel north, you'll reach a land that has flowing water, lakes, and rain. Free men."

  The woman nodded. Another woman said, "Better to die of thirst, if it means getting to a free land."

  "That's the spirit!"

  The four men of Lynken filled their water skins. The villagers couldn't carry all the food from the gardens, so the young men feasted. Their horses liked some of the fruits too, and since they were almost out of grain, it made sense. Cactus seed pods might not be the best for them, but the men had little choice.

  "We're three days' ride to the next village," Timothy said, "and it isn't a village at all, but a sprawling city. Going around will mean ten days with no water."

  Roger spat on the ground. "You're just full of good news."

  "Well, I was thinking, we could use your story that we're messengers. Maybe that would work better than stating that we come in peace."

  "I don't think we can free an entire city," Jason said.

  "Even if we did," Luther said, "we're so deep in the desert the people we free won't survive."

  "We're going to free this entire land."

  They headed out of the village. Up and down sand dunes. The terrain began to blend into nothing but desolation. They camped for the night. The temperature dropped almost to freezing, and a great storm of lightning and thunder rolled across the hills. The four young men stayed up, watching the great rage in the sky.

  Rain fell, but it was hardly a sprinkle, not like the rain in Lynken where it was pitter patter for hours.

  They traveled through the next day.

  About high noon, Jason said, "It must be a mirage."

  Luther, Timothy, and Roger looked off into the distance. A sprawling expanse of green trees stretched across the horizon.

  "We've reached the end?" Roger said.

  Timothy shook his head. "I have scryed countless times and have never seen this forest, if it is, in fact, a forest."

  "We go through it," Luther said.

  Roger kicked his horse. The four of them watched the forest as it grew in their vision. It spanned almost the entire horizon, and at the tallest was maybe thirty yards high.

  "I bet there's fruit," Jason said.

  They rode in between the trees. The air was cooler, and they came across a pool of clear water. The men and horses drank. Roger pointed at a shrub with red fruit an inch wide on it. "Edible?"

  "I have read of two plants that look like that: in one the fruit is bitter and poisonous if you eat a lot," Luther said. "In the second variety, the fruit is sweet and healthy."

  Roger grabbed a piece of fruit and bit into it. "Delicious."

  They found two other kinds of trees with ripe flesh. The horses and men ate many of the berries.

  "We should spend the night," Jason said. "Hell, we should just live here."

  The men enjoyed a little chuckle. They collected dead wood and started the first fire they had made on the journey. The sun set.

  Jason looked into the trees. He pointed.

  The other three men turned away from the blaze.

  A thousand fire-filled eyes stared back at them.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Luther summoned a ball of white light and threw it upwards. The eyes of fire staring back at them were inset in faces covered with fur. The creatures had arms and legs, like humans, but light tan fur covered everything. They stood about eight inches tall, with sharp teeth and claws, and stared at the men. The beasts looked like they could debone a chicken with no tools in about six seconds.

  "I think we should flee," Luther said.

  Jason moved his hand to his sword hilt. "Maybe they're friendly."

  "Move slowly. Untie the horses."

  The four men started to shift their position away from the fire to the horses. The first of the small creatures leaped claws-first at Roger. He drew his blade in a flash and cut the animal in half. No blood spilled, but a black cloud of mist and smoke formed in place of the beast.

  Timothy asked, "Lightning?"

  "Might just piss them off," Jason said.

  A set of claws jumped at his midsection, and his blade flashed. Another cloud of dark smoke. Luther reached the horses and untied his. A creature jumped at him, claws extended. Luther summoned a charge of lightning, and it crashed against a spherical globe around the animal. The claws ripped into Luther's gut, taking out a big chunk of flesh. He howled in pain before drawing his blade to finish the little hellspawn. Luther began a healing chant and tried to focus past the pain.

  The furry little beasts leaped at the men one by one. They weren't impossible to dispatch, but there were a lot of them. The men had their horses untied, but the clouds of coal-like smoke were starting to reform into fresh beasts that were four times larger than the ones they had dispatched.

  Roger shouted, "Let's ride!"

  Jason cut down one of the bigger creatures and was first to jump on his horse. The four of them galloped out of the trees, cutting down beasts on the ground. Some of the whatever-those-things-were jumped out of trees to be dispatched, but the ones on the ground were the bigger threat: they could cut a horse's leg to ribbons.

  They traveled for about four miles and set up a new camp, which basically meant th
ey looked for a big enough dead tree to tie the horses to.

  Timothy cast a great light spell. "Two of the horses are bleeding."

  "I'm wearing an undershirt," Roger said. "We can make a bandage."

  "You've been wearing two shirts this whole time?"

  "I get cold at night."

  They bandaged the horses' legs and slept. In the morning, the two injured horses were on the ground, breathing in little shallow breaths.

  The men sent them to whatever afterlife a horse could expect. They took turns riding and walking. Smoke plumes from the city ahead hung on the horizon.

  "Will they sell us horses?" Jason asked.

  "Have we seen a single horse other than ours?" Luther asked.

  "No."

  Roger said, "We've seen beasts of burden."

  "Yes, those squat creatures with fur on their back," Luther said.

  "Wagons, too."

  "Yes, but we've got to convince this city we're peaceful."

  All four men were walking when they stepped into the city. They were expecting a great bellowing sound of some kind to herald their approach, but none came. Some of the structures were made of reeds and mud, others of stone, and some were wooden. The men were not challenged.

  Luther noticed a sign hanging over a large wooden building. "Pub."

  "Are you lying again?" Jason asked.

  "My thirst knows no end," Roger said.

  Jason tied both horses to a post. He looked up at the sky. "We should see if they have rooms, too."

  Luther stepped up on the porch of the establishment. "You've gotten soft. I can remember all the times you happily slept in a gutter after a night of drinking."

  Jason's mouth spread into a wide grin. "Let's go inside."

  The four men walked into the shade of the pub. They sat at a table. A bronze-skinned girl with melon-sized breasts set cups in front of each of them. She then filled the cups with orange liquid from a gourd. It tasted good but strong, and each man took little sips.

  A Southlander started playing a fast paced tune on some string instrument. A well-formed woman entered the room and danced to the tune. She was a little over five feet tall, with wider hips than shoulders. She did not wear Bractar. The four men watched and drank and listened.

  "I like this place," Timothy said with a bit of a slur to his speech.

  "I like this drink. I like the dancer," Jason said.

  "I'm feeling a little strange."

  It was like a huge weight in Luther's stomach. Like a chunk of iron bigger than a house resting on his chest. Something in the drink. All four men fell over onto the floor and groaned. Darkness engulfed them.

  A headache and motion woke Luther. His wrists hurt, and on those wrists, were a pair of Bractar. Simple matter. The chant. They were in a cage on a wagon traveling through the desert. Two Southlander men rode in the front of the wagon.

  Luther summoned magic and poured it into the chant to break the Bractar. Nothing happened.

  The man in the front of the wagon spoke, "The chant only works if you're not chained."

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Luther groaned. The three others stirred awake. "The chant does nothing," Luther said.

  Jason rubbed at his temple. "There was a girl. A dancer."

  "Yes," Roger said. "A true beauty."

  Timothy chanted the words. It did nothing.

  Jason pointed at Luther's face with his index finger. "Aren't you some kind of chosen one?"

  "Don't go there," Luther said.

  "I've heard stories of your father slaughtering ogres by the thousands. Where's that in you?"

  "Piss off!"

  "You're some kind of pansy chosen one? Are you like a girl? You are! You're a woman."

  Rage boiled in a heartbeat. He wanted to hit Jason so bad, but he also wanted out of these chains. Power started to flow from the edges of everything around him. The Southlanders driving the wagon cage turned and drew blades. Luther cut them down with precise lightning bolts. He looked at the chains on his wrists.

  His mind drew a charred iron hexagon around his hands. 'Pyros' flowed out of his lips. A tiny white hot fire began to blaze.

  "I have a feeling it's going to get warm!" Jason shouted.

  Timothy threw up spherical wards around the people, the wagon, and the beasts of burden pulling the wagon.

  Free-running lava filled Luther to the brim. He pulled in waves upon waves of magic, each one a kind of shard of darkness pulled from some nether region. To watch it was like seeing shadows of bats forming in the terrain about them and flying into Luther.

  Luther turned the heat up over and over. The men around him began to sweat and cook.

  Timothy shouted, "Shield your eyes!"

  Luther stared into the fire. The Bractar on his wrists started to glow. He pulled on the metal with his mind, and it began to come apart. He threw the pieces off into the sand, and they sank as the ground melted under them. Once Luther was free of the last pieces of Bractar, he bent at the midsection, and tried to just breathe. The power didn't leave him, and he wanted to kill with everything he had.

  He drew triangles along the sand in the distance, hundreds of them. He spoke, 'Shoc,' over and over. Lightning danced like a massive storm along the horizon.

  "Quiet your mind, brother," Jason said. "I take back my comment. I didn't mean it."

  Luther did his best to bottle his rage for later. He fell into darkness.

  Some asshole splashed water on his face and woke him. The asshole was, in fact, Jason. "Get these Bractar off of us!"

  Luther said the words:

  Break the bonds

  you use to enslave

  free yourself

  free your slaves

  break the chains you have made

  or in this earth

  you will be laid

  All three sets of Bractar on the other men shattered.

  "I feel much better," Roger said.

  Timothy rubbed at his wrists. "Where are we going?"

  The beasts of burden were pulling the wagon along at a nice pace.

  Luther's skull ached, and a drop of blood fell from his nose. "Scry."

  Timothy sighed. He closed his eyes. "The beasts seem to know the way."

  Timothy then collapsed. The floor looked comfortable to Luther, and he sank down. Jason and Roger stepped over him and tossed the bodies of the Southlanders to the side.

  Roger said, "It's not as hot today."

  "You're just saying that because the Magi tried to cook us," Jason said.

  "No, there's a cool breeze in the air. I think autumn is coming."

  "Could you guys possibly be quiet?" Luther asked.

  Roger reached down in between the beasts and grabbed hold of the reins. "Does your head hurt?"

  "Yes."

  Jason picked up a skin of some kind from between the wagon seat and the cage. He took a drink and handed it backward to Luther. "It's wine."

  Luther took the skin. He drank. "Thanks."

  Timothy stirred out of his near coma. "Are our blades up there?"

  Jason stood up and looked around. "They're on the roof of the cage, as well as some supplies."

  "We're about five days at this pace to the central capital of the Southlands. Quintak's castle."

  "No more oases in between?"

  Timothy shook his head. "If we head two or three days off course, we'll reach a smaller village."

  Jason counted on his fingers for a moment. "If we conserve our rations, we're going to be hungry."

  "Some say it's better to fight on an empty stomach," Roger said, "but my preference is to have a nice breakfast."

  Luther stood up and looked over the supplies. "It's really not that bleak. We have at least three days of food for a five-day journey. Half rations, and we'll be fine."

  "Have you ever been on half rations in your life?" Roger asked.

  Jason let out a little chuckle. "Quarter rations for a week in training. It's hard, but you can fight."
/>   "Ranger training doesn't count!"

  "Of course it counts!"

  "I have been a lord all my life," Timothy said, "But when my wife died, I didn't eat for a long time. Half rations are fine."

  "I'm sorry, my friend," Luther said.

  "Soon I'll join her."

  "You never know," Roger said. "We could survive."

  Luther raised his hand up. "I'm planning on surviving."

  "Yes, easy, walk in, run out," Jason said.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The critters pulling the wagon seemed tireless. They stopped at sunset. Roger found copper bowls and put water in them for the beasts. Reeds were tied in bundles on the sides of the wagon. The animals seemed interested in the plant matter and ate just a little bit.

  They traveled this way for three days on half rations. On the fourth day, Roger declared, "I'll fast today, so I can be full tomorrow."

  "Splendid idea," Timothy said.

  Their hunger gnawed at their insides, but on the fifth day, they were full. Only they had miscalculated, and they wouldn't reach the capital until noon the next day.

  The sun woke them, and they rode into a city. Guards pointed spears at them. "Who are you?"

  "We're messengers," Luther said. "We need to see Quintak."

  The guards escorted them to a great castle with walls fifty feet tall. The structure was a mile on each side. They rode into a massive courtyard with stone tables and benches. A hundred guards and soldiers practiced or stood watch in the vicinity. An aged man wearing a black cloak over thin chainmail, with a jeweled crown on his brow, stepped towards the young men.

  Jason whispered, "Do we strike?"

  "We have time, let's get him alone," Roger said.

  The aged man had bronze skin and salt and pepper hair on his head. On his hip, he wore a long sword with a jeweled hilt. He raised his voice, "Messengers?"

  Luther stood up in the wagon. "Aye. We have a message for your ears only."

  "Let us feast, and you'll have my ear!"

  The four young men climbed down from the wagon.

  Quintak's shouting carried through the castle. "A feast, for our friends! Meat, fruit, and wine!"

  Something was wrong. Deep down in Luther's heart, something was beginning. A faint tickle.