Ancient Magic

by Blink, Bob

  “Your powers are not infinite then?”

  “Of course not,” Burke answered. “But I have abilities that are much broader than your friend.”

  “For example?” Daria asked. Rigo could tell that Burke had run afoul of her internal warning systems as well as his own.

  Burke rubbed his face and then stroked his beard in thought. “How about this then?”

  He held out his hands spaced about the width of his body. A brilliant orange glow formed that drifted quickly over to Daria and enveloped her. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened as she sucked in a sudden breath. She hissed softly as the glow disappeared into her body.

  “What are you doing?” Rigo stood and demanded.

  Burke ignored him.

  Kaler stood and withdrew his sword and was about to advance on Burke, when the wizard gave him a look and Kaler found himself rooted to the spot unable to move. Rigo wished for his staff, and found that he was somehow blocked and couldn’t use his magic.

  As they considered what to do, the glow that had penetrated Daria was fading away. Burke lowered his hands, and Daria slumped momentarily, then sat up straight. A surprised look spread across her face and she quickly ran her right hand under her tunic and across her side. Shock spread across her face and she ripped open the garment ignoring the presence of the men around her. Her skin was whole and smooth, the ugly ragged scar gone.

  “I can move freely again,” she said. “The lingering pain is gone.”

  “Healing is one of the more difficult arts to learn, but for those with the skill, it can do the most amazing things,” Burke said. “You have been repaired. It is as though the wound had never happened.”

  “I have a question,” Ash’urn said from his seat behind the others. “Long ago one like you came to my village and destroyed a creature of some kind. Who was that and what was it about?”

  Burke nodded. “That is one of the answers you will get once we arrive. For now, it is getting late and we have a lot of ground to cover in the morning and the trail will be challenging. I would ask you to hold your questions until another time so we can get the rest we require.”

  There was little option but to do as Burke asked. Rigo had noted that Burke didn’t answer certain questions and had shifted the discussion elsewhere. As everyone made final preparations for sleep, he spoke briefly with Daria.

  “It’s really better?” he asked.

  She nodded. “You saw. I feel like my old self again.”

  “What do you think of our new friend?” Rigo asked softly.

  Daria shook her head as her eyes glanced across the campground toward the horses where Burke had gone moments before. Later, she was telling him.

  The next morning they were on the trail early. Burke hadn’t mislead them about the difficulty of the trail and there was little time to converse. During one of the few times they were able to ride two abreast Rigo asked Burke about the war.

  “It is almost upon us,” Burke agreed. “That is one reason we must make haste. With enough of us, we might be able to prevent it from happening or at least minimize the impact. Man is still recovering from the plague. It is not the time to further reduce our numbers and strength in such a foolish manner.”

  That night they camped by another stream. This night Burke was disinclined to speak of magic nor to demonstrate further capabilities. Once again they were on the trail early the next day. It rained heavily that morning, but somehow they were not affected by it. Burke did something so that as they rode the drops were falling all about them and soaking the ground, while the party and their horses did not get wet. The drops passed all around them, but none seemed to strike them. Rigo examined the aura around Burke carefully in an attempt to see how it was doing it.

  They broke from their travels to make camp a little early. While the others were getting the camp set up, Burke pulled Rigo off to one side. Staff in hand, Rigo followed the other, wondering what he had in mind.

  “We are close enough,” Burke said. “We can leave them now.”

  “What do you mean, leave them?” Rigo asked.

  “They do not have the ability. They cannot come with us. Only you and I will be going to the settlement.”

  “And what are they to do?”

  “They can make their way to Ny’em, or make their way back the way we have come. It doesn’t really matter.”

  “You yourself indicated that this area was dangerous. You have led them close to the village, and now would desert them?”

  “They are unimportant. We have a more important matter to resolve.”

  “You mean the war?”

  “The war is not really that important either. You are needed to help with a larger issue.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I am not authorized to reveal that to you. The Directorate will explain everything once we arrive.”

  “I don’t think so,” Rigo said suddenly. Burke’s casual disregard for his friends had been enough to decide the matter for him. He had long wished to find others like himself, but there was something here he didn’t like. Once he was taken to this settlement, he might not have any chance to decide for himself. If Burke was any example, they expected everyone to do as they wished. Rigo didn’t think he would be happy under such conditions.

  “You have no choice in the matter,” Burke said suddenly and blue colored bands suddenly surrounded Rigo, holding him firm. He was unable to dislodge them no mater how hard he tried.

  “What are you doing?” he asked loudly.

  Daria heard him and looked over toward them. “Rigo,” she cried and started his way. Kaler heard her cry and followed just behind her.

  “Fools,” Burke cursed. He walked toward Rigo and standing next to him created a huge energy bubble around them. Daria threw a knife at Burke, but it bounced harmlessly off the glowing sphere that surrounded them.

  “Let me go,” Rigo insisted.

  “Sorry,” Burke replied. “You will understand later.”

  The sphere started to pulse with changing colors. Rigo knew he was trapped. Then the bands that held him suddenly dropped away. The staff was glowing with its own display of power. Ripples of light seemed to pulse along its length. Without knowing why or if it were possible, Rigo stepped through the surface of the sphere. Burke stared at him, his eyes reflected his disbelief of what he’d just seen.

  The sphere started to fade, but the staff sent a burst of energy toward it that caused it to rapidly shrink. Burke was still inside and seemed to shrink with it. It kept getting smaller and smaller, and then with a barely audible pop, simply disappeared.

  “What did you do to him?” Kaler asked.

  “I didn’t,” Rigo said in wonder. “I wouldn’t have known how. The staff did it. It didn’t want me to go with him. I assume it sent him wherever he was headed, but maybe it destroyed him. I simply don’t know.”

  “What did he tell you?” Daria asked.

  “He was going to take me and leave the rest of you here.”

  Ash’urn looked shocked at the revelation.

  “He’ll be back,” Daria warned. “Him or another like him. They can always find you if what he said about that pendant is true.”

  Rigo nodded and withdrew the pendant. It no longer glowed. He had felt it cool as Burke had disappeared. It would probably be best to simply discard it, but being able to identify someone with the power was a very useful tool. Suddenly he knew what to do. He took hold of his staff and opened it to where the coins were stored. He withdrew two of the coins and placed the pendant in their place. Somehow there was just the right amount of room, which encouraged him. Then he replaced the upper section. The wood merged into a single continuous piece.

  “What did you do?” Daria asked.

  “The pendant can’t be tracked while it’s inside the staff,” he told her.

  “You’re sure?” Kaler asked doubtful. “How would you know?”

  “That staff told me,” he said. “I just know.”
/>   “Why don’t you simply throw it away ?” Kaler asked.

  Rigo explained his reasons

  “Can you still use it to identify those with power while it’s inside the staff?” Daria asked.

  “Somehow I think so,” Rigo said. “Come on. Let’s get away from here in case they come back.”

  Chapter 32

  It’oni strung together several of his favorite and most colorful curses as he condemned the heritage of the assassin who had failed him. He had been visited by a messenger several days earlier with the return of his payment plus an additional twenty percent. For whatever reason, the man wasn’t going to be able to follow through on the agreed removal of I’Vorris. It’oni had been led to believe that couldn’t happen. Once the original money had changed hands, the assassin had been said to always follow through. The matter was supposed to be settled and firm. Now It’oni would need to proceed on his own. I’Vorris continued to drag his feet and was clearly waiting for the Caucus before deciding any action, so nothing had changed in the urgency of getting rid of the man.

  As he prepared for his departure from his own village to travel to the meeting, It’oni considered what might have happened. Could the contract have been discovered and I’Vorris taken some action? That was highly unlikely because he would more than likely be dead under such circumstances. Perhaps I’Vorris had happened to have similar thoughts and offered a higher price. It wasn’t like the man, but not impossible given the circumstances. Who could be certain? It’oni glanced around him uncomfortably. No one knew who the assassin was, and with all the mercenaries he had hired of late, he could be here at this moment.

  “Pa, the wagons are loaded and we’re ready to leave,” said Mor’tin, his eldest son. At eighteen, he was one of his three eighteen year-old sons. All born within months of one another, they were born to the first three wives he had taken as his right when he had been elevated to the position he now filled. Mor’tin, along with the other two eldest sons, would be making the trip with him. It was a great adventure to them, but given their age and seniority within the clan, it was appropriate they be given the exposure to these kinds of events. One day he hoped one of them would succeed him.

  Two of the three mothers still lived and were part of his extended family. One had died in childbirth, not as uncommon as one would hope. It hadn’t mattered greatly to her son who had never known her, as all of the children were raised under the watch of all the parents. Some had to think carefully to recall who their true mother might be. At the moment It’oni had five wives, and more than twenty children. All the wives were treated equally, except perhaps Realen’ia who had once been his favorite but had developed a severe case of warts which he found disgusting. As such, he avoided her as much as possible. Still, she was the most powerful of his wives and was fiercely loyal to him.

  “I’ll be along in a moment,” he told Mor’tin. He wanted to leave his brother a few final words regarding his running of the camp while he was away. His brother would nominally be in charge. Someone had to be, and having family, especially family that had no interest in replacing him was best. In truth, his wives would be the ones over-seeing any important activities. Women were not allowed any official role. The gods, and more importantly the people, would rebel at such a thought. But his wives would watch from the background and make sure his brother made all the right choices. He trusted them in this. They had proven their worth and ability in the past.

  Finally it was time and he climbed onto his horse, a large stallion that had been with him for a number of years now. Trained in war, the horse could be counted upon if fighting developed. His sons would ride immediately behind him. The only ones to ride ahead of him were his two scouts, and they had already left to perform their duty of monitoring their trail. To his right was his most trusted warrior and the man who normally controlled his fighters. Fifty of their best would make the journey. The number was a compromise. They would be traveling well within the boundaries of Lopal, and war hadn’t officially broken out so they wouldn’t expect to encounter any threats. On the other hand, I’Vorris wasn’t stupid, and if his eyes and ears were anywhere as effective as those of It’oni, he would know that he had enemies. Eliminating one of those problems on the road would ease the way forward for the man.

  The trip would take almost three weeks. Even then, It’oni was fortunate to be so close to Rak’er where I’Vorris made his camp and the current capital of Lopal. The capital moved depending on who was chosen Lamane, the King over all other kings. Some of his fellows had already been on the road for several weeks in order to arrive on time.

  As they road out of the village the people cheered and waved. His wives were not to be seen. It would have been inappropriate to make such a public display. Not so his children. Many of them could be seen in the crowd, proud as their Pa led the procession. Half of the fifty warriors followed immediately behind It’oni and his family. Then came the fifteen heavily laden wagons. The remaining twenty-five warriors rode behind the wagons, providing the rear guard.

  In addition to the food required for their travel, the wagons carried ceremonial clothes and weapons, plus the two large tents that he would erect to provide his residence while at the Caucus. I’Vorris would more than likely have made arrangements for their stay, but he preferred his own quarters. He wore his daily weapons that he would use for any fighting. The fancy gold and jewel inlaid weapons in the wagons would be worn for the formal ceremonies in Rak’er.

  The cheering slowly faded behind them as they cleared the bridge that crossed the tributary that branched from the river and provided the village with its water. It’oni would have days to think as they traveled, and had made arrangements for the most recent messages transmitted from his spies to reach him as they traveled. He tried to weigh his options as he rode. There were really only a couple of choices open to him. I’Vorris either had to be replaced by a vote of the lesser kings, or he must be killed. Killing him could take the form of an assassination, as he’d hoped would already happen, or a direct challenge. It’oni knew the latter was risky. He was younger than I’Vorris by a couple of years, and a favorite and storied fighter, yet I’Vorris had not survived so many years and several challenges without being a dangerous and skillful fighter himself. There was significant risk if It’oni were to choose that route. It would also mean one of the two of them would have to die, and both could potentially be seriously wounded.

  It all depended on the vote. Not counting I’Vorris, there were eight lesser kings. Eight men who could cast a vote at the Caucus and decide who would be the leader of the Lopal and decide whether they would go to war or not. With an even number, it was possible and had happened before that a tie might be reached. In that instance, and only then, could the Lamane cast a vote to break the tie. There was no doubt how that would go in It’oni’s mind.

  Of the eight, It’oni was certain of two others, Elm’ad and Ny’tor. Both had been true friends since childhood and recent visits by his emissaries had confirmed their support for his position. Both had been actively pursuing border actions, and stood to gain handsomely from a war. That meant three votes that would certainly fall his way when counted with his own. Of course, I’Vorris had his own followers, and both Shy’tan and Om’ver would almost certainly stand at his side. A few short years ago I’Vorris could have counted on It’oni to do the same, but they both knew those days were past. That left three that would make the decision.

  Bab’hon had declined to attend the Caucus. He had made the decision widely known. The message drums had carried his rejection of the meeting. He was too busy with raids. It was too bad, because he would have supported It’oni’s side and voted with him. By not participating he was agreeing that his vote would fall with the majority. Whichever side prevailed he would support. That left Ser’ril and Yerid’o. Both ruled over lands on the eastern side of Lopal, far from the border. They stood less to gain than any of the others, and had problems of their own with the attacks to the herds in
the borderlands. They would be less likely to support the war. That was bad for It’oni because if they voted against, it would make the count four to three against. With Bab’hon’s default vote that would mean five to three against him, a sound loss. He would have to see how firm the two men were in their positions. If he could turn just one of them to his side, the vote would be the same, but in his favor. If both seemed to support I’Vorris, he would have to consider physically removing the man, whatever the risks.

  His concentration was broken when his sons wanted to discuss the upcoming meeting and what to expect. He sighed and let his thoughts go. He would have sufficient time to think over the coming days.

  I’Vorris stared at the preparations being made in the clearing for the coming Caucus. Preparation for almost five hundred royal visitors and their men were underway. They would arrive soon. Almost too soon to suit him. In his mind the meeting was a formality, but one that was necessary. War was all but inevitable. The raids continued at an increasing rate. His spies around the country told the story. The shipping on the river had all but stopped as a result of actions in the south. Excursions across the border were mostly successful and were encouraging his leaders. There was much to gain. As the successes continued, the desire for more was fed. It would be difficult to turn the blood lust around.

  Resistance in the north had been the greatest. It was odd, as that was the one area that I’Vorris would have loved to see some success. The force that had been sent by King Rupermore had won a number of key encounters. Had he been a true believer in the war, he would have sent more troops to aid in the battle, but that wouldn’t be consistent with his call to Caucus. He also had to keep in mind the warning of Sooor. Just today she had made her point again.

  “Whoever leads Lopal forward in war will fall,” she warned.