by Blink, Bob
Chapter 78
Rigo and Ash’urn walked into Elm’ad’s camp just as the army was about to mount up and continue on its way. They had selected the location based on the tracking bracelet that Rigo had given the leader, but it wasn’t a precise device and they had stepped out of the Bypass a quarter glass walk away.
“Who is this?” Elm’ad asked, seeing Ash’urn and realizing he hadn’t seen him before. He didn’t seem particularly surprised to see Rigo appearing once again. “Another of your wizards? I have to admit I’m coming to believe in your magic. While there might be a way to have caused the explosions and destruction you demonstrated yesterday, I can think of no way men could be healed, and healed so rapidly from what should have been fatal wounds, short of magic. The healers you sent us are beyond belief. I would pay handsomely to have one or more of them ride with me.”
“They have other duties, and coin is a secondary concern to them,” Rigo said. “And to answer your question, this is Master Ash’urn, one of the oldest and most accomplished wizards among us. He is widely traveled and knows Lopal from border to border and will aid us in the task ahead.” Only the last statement was true, of course.
Several of Elm’ad’s men were staring at Ash’urn somewhat doubtfully as the scholar softly mouthed the key phrase as he and Rigo had discussed causing him to promptly disappear. Several gasps of surprise escaped the assembled group.
“Was he truly here, or was he some more magic on your part?” Elm’ad asked stepping around to examine the space where Ash’urn had been at another angle.
“He’s here alright, just no longer visible. Master Ash’urn, if you please,” Rigo said, and moments later the scholar reappeared, a wry smile on his face knowing he was now looked upon by these men as one of the gifted he had always wished to be. Rigo had wanted Elm’ad’s men to be convinced Ash’urn was a wizard as well, as a further assurance no one would consider taking action against him should Rigo become distracted sometime.
It’s time for us to pursue the matter of other groups preparing to launch attacks,” Rigo said. He wished to get started on the towers and deal with the Hoplani problem, but without sufficient wizards the ultimate solution was currently out of reach. He wouldn’t be able to openly reveal magic as he wished until this stupid war could be ended, everywhere. That meant it was his highest priority at the moment.
“You don’t appear to have brought horses,” Elm’ad observed. “I suppose I can provide mounts for the two of you.”
“We will not be moving so slowly as that. You need to put someone in charge of the troops and their continued withdrawal from Branid. You will travel with Master Ash’urn and myself using the magical arches you have seen me use before. You will find it far more efficient than horseback.”
Rigo had Elm’ad direct him to the location of one of the other planned attacks. Elm’ad wasn’t privy to all of the plans the former Lamane had made, but he knew about several attacks that should be underway. Most of these were to the south, so they headed that way. The population was higher in that direction anyway, so stopping any attacks in that direction would affect more people. Rigo relied on Ash’urn’s knowledge of the population centers to verify the reasonableness of Elm’ad’s claims, and the tribal leader’s memories of the area to transport them.
“That is truly remarkable,” Elm’ad said as they stepped out of the arch onto the side of a bluff overlooking the Great River. We have to be almost three weeks travel from where we were just a moment ago. He stepped toward the bluff and let his eyes take in the familiar scenery, once again stunned by the power that Rigo commanded. Elm’ad no longer doubted that the man was indeed a wizard. He had witnessed too many miracles in the last two days to retain doubts any longer.
“Where would you expect to find them?” Rigo asked as he scanned the empty river below. There was no sign of any troops, although he could see smoking remains of a small settlement on the far side of the river.
“Inland,” Elm’ad said, pointing past the ruins of the village. “They have come this way already. Their attack started here. They could be anywhere from a day to three ahead of us.”
“Who commands this army?” Rigo asked.
“I’Vorris’s eldest son. His name is Os’car. You wanted to know where I’Vorris has gone. This might be the quickest way to learn, if you can stop this attack without killing the lad.”
Rigo scanned the far side of the river. Nothing gave away the location of the Lopal forces, and finally he fixed his eyes on a distant hillside. A range of smallish mountains ran north-south in the distance. The elevation would provide him with a better perspective and, if Elm’ad was being honest, would be closer to where the attacking forces were heading. They’d jump there and see what they could learn.
It took several more glass and two additional jumps before they caught sight of the army that was making its way inland, burning and destroying farms and ranches it encountered.
“You know this Os’car?” Rigo asked Elm’ad. “Or is he going to see you as a stranger?”
“He knows me well enough. I don’t suspect he likes me much as I opposed his father when it came to the voting. But he’s seen me dozens of times.”
The army was on the move, so Rigo selected a spot near a small lake a quarter glass ride in advance of the slowly moving force. I’Vorris’s son was near the front leading his men as was the style of tribal leaders in Lopal. They would be waiting when he rode up.
“Elm’ad?” the young man said shocked when he emerged from the trail leading through the brush and spotted them waiting by the lake.
Elm’ad smiled and walked slowly over to the mounted leader. “We have to talk,” he said solemnly. “We have lost the war. The Lamane is dead, and we have encountered a force we cannot resist.”
Os’car shook his head. “You may have lost, but I have encountered no resistance worth mentioning.”
“You were not listening,” Elm’ad barked. “I said the Lamane is dead. You must turn back.”
“I am not surprised that It’oni is dead. My father’s witch predicted whoever led the first attacks would fall. It appears she was right once again.”
“Sooor predicted the Lamane would die? Why wasn’t this discussed?”
“None of you have ever believed what Sooor says. You thought my father was wrong to have the crazy old woman around him. Now you are learning the truth.”
Elm’ad decided he would think more on this later, but he had to make the young warrior understand. Briefly he outlined all that had happened. When he finished, Os’car looked at Rigo and Ash’urn.
“Magic?” he asked. “I find that difficult to believe.”
Rigo nodded and effortlessly blasted a series of powerful fire balls into the lake causing massive clouds of water and steam to be flung into the air.
“Listen to Elm’ad,” Rigo commanded. “I would rather not kill any more soldiers. I had to kill hundreds to convince It’oni’s army. Don’t let it be like that again. Have you not considered how we could be here. We traveled the distance from the battle site to here in the blink of an eye using my power.”
“I had wondered about that. I have considered that Elm’ad might be a traitor and is trying to delay my attacks for reasons of his own. Perhaps he was never with It’oni and the Lamane still lives.”
Rigo created a Bypass and beckoned to the young man. “Come, you may see the site of the encounter with your own eyes.”
The young warrior hesitated a moment, but when he saw Elm’ad step fearlessly into the arch and disappear, he felt the need to show his own bravery, and followed after him. It took another glass, but finally Rigo was able to convince the young leader that he had no choice. By the time they parted ways, Rigo had explained about the beasts and learned where I’Vorris had been heading. Ash’urn said he knew the place, leaving Rigo convinced he could jump there once this other business was concluded.
Elm’ad led the way to the second location, but as dusk was settling in, they had n
ot located the army. Ash’urn pointed out a reasonable camp, and they settled in starting a fire.
“We have nothing to hunt with, nor supplies. Why don’t we go back to my village?” Elm’ad asked.
Rigo shook his head, and created a Bypass that he disappeared into. A short time later he reappeared, carrying a couple blankets and a large cloth sack which yielded still warm chicken, soft bread and fruit, and two skins of ale.
“The inn?” Ash’urn asked, guessing where Rigo had gone.
Rigo nodded. “It was simple enough to have the proprietor’s wife make up a dinner.”
By the end of the next day they had turned around another attack group. On the third day they located the last of the forces that Elm’ad knew about, finding that Kellmore’s forces under the command of Kellmore’s King’s son Briz, had effectively won the encounter, chasing the attackers back across the river. Rigo made a point of jumping across to the Kellmore camp and revealing himself and the status of things to the fighter. Rigo promised that he would be visiting the Kellmore King once the attacking groups had all been turned back to Lopal, and asked that the young man forward this to his father if he had the opportunity. Then he and Ash’urn returned to Elm’ad, taking him to the village of the former Lamane.
“You can leave me here,” Elm’ad said. “This is where the army is headed anyway. While you are checking on your friends, I will meet with Realen-ia, one of It’oni’s widows, and learn what I can of the other plans he had put into place.”
Rigo agreed, then after warning Elm’ad to remain near the village where he could easily be located, opened a Bypass back to the Outpost. He needed to coordinate with Jeen and learn how matters were progressing there. She was training more of the wizards on making the Bypasses, and had Kela train the newly skilled wizards on the locations of the towers. He also wanted to speak with Burke about new recruits.
When he had returned to the village a day later, he’d come without Ash’urn. Ash’urn found the charade of pretending to be a wizard tiring, and had decided that Elm’ad was being truthful about the attacking forces. He also worried that Elm’ad would start to realize that Ash’urn never demonstrated magical abilities. Having little to add, he wanted to get back to his studies with Nycoh.
The next few days were much like the previous ones he had spent with Elm’ad, locating invading groups and turning the planned attacks aside. In one case they were too late. The battle was already in progress, with the combined dead amounting to well over two thousand men. Lopal was winning, but it was close. Rigo stopped the fighting, saving the lives of those still living. The assembled forces were small compared to those Rigo had faced the day It’oni was killed, but because of the deaths, this battle was one that would long be remembered and leave scars.
Now, nearly another week had passed and Elm’ad had directed Rigo to the north of the original battle where the last of the attacking armies was supposed to be. Each succeeding group had been more difficult to locate as the added delay had allowed them to move deeper into Branid or Kellmore. Many men had died from the resulting battles that Rigo had been too late to stop. He would be glad this would be the end of it, and after today there should be no more major fighting to worry about.
Rigo and Elm’ad stepped out of the Bypass onto a grassy plain that overlooked the Great River far below. This location looked to offer an excellent vantage point, and with luck they would spot the invading forces without having to hop to a number of points before locating them. Elm’ad led the way, and Rigo following, enjoying the brisk breeze on his tired face. With luck tonight he would sleep back at the inn once again.
The two arrows, released at almost exactly the same instant, crossed the thirty paces from the hide in which the two archers had spent the better part of the past two days. The arrows buried themselves into the back of their target on either side of the spine, sinking deep into the body with the satisfying sound of solid hits. Rigo dropped to the ground without uttering a sound.
The men had ridden as directed for nearly a week to reach this spot well north of It’oni’s home village. It was in one of the wilder spots along the Great River, and a significant distance from any of the tribal territories. No one really claimed this land, and one could walk for days without encountering anyone.
They were the best archers in the village, chosen by Realen-ia, the only other person aware of this plan. The two archers were known for their skill, and at Elm’ad’s direction they had practiced until they could release their arrows simultaneously and hit a target every time at the specified distance. Elm’ad had told them exactly where he wanted the killing to occur, so they could choose a well-hidden and optimum spot for the ambush. He hadn’t known if there would be one or two victims when he’d sent them on their way, but their instructions were to kill anyone with him. As it turned out, he had arrived with only one other person. Now they had completed the assignment, and very satisfied with their performance, they stepped out of the hide and sauntered over to Elm’ad, who had backed away from the downed man and was looking for any sign of life.
“He’s dead,” said the first archer, who had bent down and felt Rigo’s neck for a pulse when he reached the body. “Nothing there at all. I oughta know. I’ve killed more than a few men in the last year.” He stood and continued over to where Elm’ad was waiting.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Elm’ad asked. “You don’t want to take any chances with that one. One mistake and it’ll be your last.”
The second archer who had been a few paces behind the first, stopped and knelt down. He pulled at one of the arrows deeply embedded deep in Rigo’s back and noted no sign of response. Then he leaned down and placed his ear against Rigo’s back. “No heartbeat,” he agreed as he stood up. “He won’t be anyone’s problem anymore.”
Elm’ad nodded finally satisfied. He let out a long breath he’d been holding since he heard the first strike of the arrows. “See I told you. Get one of them distracted and they can be killed like anyone else.” Elm’ad had learned from one of the healers that had been sent to him that there were not that many of the wizards, and none were as powerful as the one he’d just had killed. Now he would plan for any others who came his way, and if they could eliminate the wizards first, then sooner or later this war could have another chance.
“Where are the horses? We have a long ride to get back to the village. Never, speak of this. To anyone, is that clear? If any question comes up about him, I’ll indicate he dropped me at the village saying he’d be back in a day or two. No one is ever going to stumble across him out here. It’s too far from anything. It is nowhere near where any of our armies are located. Let his friends wonder while we prepare.”
The three men headed downhill to the spot where the archers had tethered the mounts a couple of days earlier where they would be out of sight, yet safe until they were needed. The long brown grass around the body blew back and forth teased by the brisk breeze, but no sign of movement could be seen in the figure, almost invisible lying on the deserted meadow high above the river.
Chapter 79
Daria watched through the tiny peephole as Cordale accepted the small message from the man who had been granted entry moments earlier. She remained surprised that Cordale hadn’t had the foresight to carefully examine the wall along the secret tunnel for possible viewing ports, although someone had blocked the more obvious one that had been built when the passageway was originally constructed. Lady Usaya had told her of a second, much smaller viewing hole, that she had had added herself when she suspected her husband of hiding things from her earlier in their marriage. It had turned out she was wrong, but she had never told the King, nor anyone else of the second viewing hole, and it had proved useful in allowing Daria and Kaler to observe King Cordale the past couple of days. Sadly they had learned little conclusive, other than he had some gross habits. Daria wished they could see what was in the message, which by its small size was almost certainly from one of the messenger birds.
; “Damn!” King Cordale cursed as he read the brief message that had come from his forces along the border. Damn the distance and the delays. It took too long for information to reach him. He was used to being closer to the front so that he could receive timely status reports and influence the course of events. Once again his eyes scanned the missive attempting to extract as much information from the far too brief report. Captain Turton had a way with words, one that was so cautious it failed to convey the core of intelligence that Cordale sought. As it was, this was the second message since the aborted fighting along the border, and one that Cordale had painstakingly requested when the first message raised more questions than it answered.
More than a week earlier he had received the report that fighting had been abruptly terminated and that Lopal was withdrawing its forces. That was welcome news, but more than he could have expected. The withdrawal wasn’t because Roit had been successful in persuading the Lopal ruler to accept Cordale’s offers and turn his attention toward Kellmore. He’d learned well before the attack that Roit had failed to return from his attempt to contact Lopal’s leaders and Cordale had assumed he had been killed or imprisoned. That had led Cordale to assume the worse, and that Lopal was prepared to march over his armies and overwhelm Branid. He had no doubts they would do so. Lopal had demonstrated that they moved only when well prepared. The sending of the city guard to augment the forces along the border had been a last minute desperation move on Cordale’s part.
When the first message had arrived from Captain Turton, Cordale had received it with a great deal of trepidation, certain he was going to learn that Branid’s army had been overrun and that the enemy was on the march toward Sulen. He had already made his plans to flee, but he’d learned instead that the war appeared to have been concluded before really starting. The reasons had been unclear. In his bumbling prose Turton had alluded to a surprise appearance by a wizard who used magical energies to dissuade the attacking forces and bring an end to the conflict just as it was about to begin.