by Jon Bender
“What do you know about mages?” he asked turning back.
“What everyone knows, they have power to do wonderful and terrible things. Some control the wind, the cold, or the earth, but I have never of one who controls death itself,” she said her voice going soft at the end of her statement.
“And now that you have seen it, what do you think?” he asked afraid to hear her answer. Jaxom could not explain why but what she thought was important to him, maybe Jerup was right and he was moon struck.
“What you did earlier was not natural but if you can do that… Can you bring back men?” she asked. He nodded that he could knowing where this was going. “So if I took you to my father could you…?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Jaxom said. “I could do what you want but it would not be the man you knew. Just a shell of him that I control much like my sword, just a tool and no more alive than the sword.”
She nodded and he could see the small hope she had slip away. He wished right then he did have the power to bring her father back. In the past he had thought long on trying to learn how, believing there might be a way to reach something close. If he could restore the mind of a risen man completely, giving him complete autonomy to make its own decisions, Jaxom thought it could be done. The question was would it be the same person, someone new, or just another magical creation? He did not know, and had decided then to never find the answer fearing what might come of such magic. An undying creature with a will of its own was not something he was ready to unleash into the world.
“It will take time for me to get used to but I know your magic saved us. If you had not done what you did many of us might be dead right now,” she said finally looking up to meet his eyes. “I just did not know how to react I guess. I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, it can’t be easy for you.”
In those few words she soothed a raw nerve at his core. The one that was always ashamed of his power, the one that did it’s best to hide what he was from others so they would not fear him. No one, not even Corin had ever told him they understood what it was like to be him.
“Thank you,” he said. The emotions that were being drawn up too much for him at the moment, he changed the subject to something he that he had wanted to ask. “Why do you want to come with us to Ale’adar? Why leave your home for a place you have never been too and know nothing about?”
She looked away then out into the darkness. “Chams’dell stop being home last summer. There is nothing left for me there with my father gone. I thought I would move to the capital and start a new life there.”
“You know there is a good chance we may not leave this forest. What we are looking for is dangerous, and if you wish to leave when we reach the city it may be for the best,” he said.
“What is it you are looking for?” she asked turning to look at him again.
Sitting down next to her Jaxom laid out the entire story, telling her of the war and the forces they believed to be behind it. Why he and the others had come so far without any real proof that whoever was behind it was here. He described what he had seen in memories of the shade, of the great room and the man inside of it.
“There is castle at the center of the city, that could hold the room you are looking for,” she said.
“A castle?”
“Yes, the city is well preserved. It is set up like the wheel of a wagon with roads circling each other. Avenues connect the circles in straight lines and those lead to the hub where the castles walls are,” she said.
“How do you know this?” he asked, confused by her knowledge of the city if she had never entered it before.
“You can see the castle from the trees and it is not hard to discern how the streets run from the outside. My father also told me about it when he first brought me there,” she said.
“I still do not understand how your family knows so much about this forest when everyone else knows almost nothing,” he said. The thought had been bothering him since she had first said the knowledge had been passed down to her.
“My family has been in the north since the mage wars. I do not know the whole story, only what I was told by my father and what he knew has been altered with each telling,” she said thinking back on those stories. “What I know for sure is that after the mage war, the great Kingdom here was abandoned. The mages who had ruled were over thrown or killed, but before they were gone they used their magic to alter the capital city somehow. Making it so no one who ever entered would leave again. Over the centuries the forest grew and with no men around most of the Kingdom turned to wilderness. The wolves and other creatures came later to claim it as their own.”
She had explained a lot about what they were heading into but this unknown magic made him nervous. It would have to be an enchantment of some sort, and powerful to keep people away for that amount of time. He kept going over everything they did not know but in the end they would just have to deal with those problems when they found them. Standing, Jaxom offered a hand down helping Adriana back to up to return to camp. Walking the short distance to the fire together they found the others already asleep, laying down in their blankets and sleeping soundly.
Chapter 12
The morning of the second day brought no more attacks from the denizens of the forest. Adriana had said that the area was probably all part of the wolves territory, and they would have kept other animals away. Jaxom’s risen pack shadowed the small group just out of sight, the constant flow of magic connecting them to him allowing for a constant vigilance that would not have been possible on his own. He would periodically take control of one of the wolves using their enhanced senses to check for threats nearby, never finding much besides the scent trail of deer and small animals. The only concerning creature was one he had never seen, but the wolves had been clear on the threat it posed. Their memories showing a large beast with six powerful legs each ending in three deadly claws, its shoulder reaching near that of a horse with a short snout containing dozens of sharp teeth. The grey and black fur hid the creature well in the woods making it as invisible as the wolves themselves except for its scent. Probing the memories further he knew that one of these animals could kill half a pack before it was brought down. The scent had been moving away from them when he had discovered it but he made sure to check for it as they moved through the shadowed forest.
Beyond a few words Jaxom had not spoken to Adriana since the previous night, feeling that it was not a good time to pick up their conversation from before. Instead he had spent the day talking to Da’san, asking him questions about his life and connection to the goddess Sarinsha.
“So when you cast, it is not actually casting?” Jaxom asked.
“It is not casting as you think of it. I ask Sarin to bless me with power to do what I need. If I was to offend her in some way, she could remove her blessing and I would be helpless,” he said. Taking his time to explain something that Jaxom got the feeling was widely spread knowledge. He was impressed by the young priest’s patience with his questions, a trait not common among men of his age.
“Sarin? Not Sarinsha?”
“It does not bother her to be called Sarin, and Sarinsha is not her full name either. Her true name is Sarinsha’Tel’dareesh but that can take a while to say in prayer,” Da’san said with a small smile.
“The powers you used the other day, you prayed for those?” Jaxom asked.
“In a way. I prayed for ways to help stop the wolves. Sarinsha spoke to me, and through me she exerted her power allowing me to form it as I needed,” he said. Nodding, Jaxom thought over how the priest’s magic worked. It seemed that Da’san was merely a conduit for his goddess’s power who decided to grant it only if it was in accordance with her agenda. It was not a way he would wish to cast. For Da’san however it did not seem to be about the power his goddess granted, but his devotion to her.
With the sun setting, Adriana had stopped her horse. The surrounding trees still looming overhead the group was forced to set up camp beneath them
. Commanding his risen wolves to begin circling again, the rest of the group dismounted to get a fire going and warm up some food. Tired from the ride they spoke very little while they ate before laying down for the night. The night was cooler than it had been when they had first left Ale’adar. Fall was coming with winter not far behind, but Jaxom did not think the war back home would last that long. Laying there staring up at the trees it was not for the first time he had doubts about his current task. What did it matter who was behind the war if they lost because he was not there? It was prideful thinking that his involvement would be the deciding factor. Nevertheless, he could not shake the feeling that he should be there, and not here in this cursed forest. His last thought before he found sleep was to wonder if Corin had things in hand.
The warning that came to him through the connection with the wolves jerked him from his blankets. Standing, his sword out and held in a ready position, he did not remember leaving his blankets but his motion woke the others.
“What is it?” Cribble asked drawing his sword from its sheath.
“I don’t know yet,” Jaxom replied. He reached out through his magic taking control of nearest wolf.
The forest around him snapped to clarity as he saw through the risen’s eyes. He could smell everything and the smallest sound did not go unnoticed by his sharp ears. Shapes of men were moving through the trees towards the firelight behind him with weapons hanging by their sides. Jaxom could hear the slight crunching of leaves under their boots but something was wrong, they had no scent that he could find. Downwind of the men he should be able to smell them, but all the air held was the odor of trees and earth. Switching between the other wolves, Jaxom could tell the intruders had all come from the direction of the city and he could feel the fur rise at the nape of his neck. Pulling back into his own body the sudden loss of the enhanced senses was almost staggering, leaving him feeling vulnerable in the impenetrable darkness. With a command his pack formed between them and those approaching, but he could tell there were too many for the wolves to handle.
“Men are approaching from the north, a lot of them,” he said to the group.
“Your wolves?” Jerup asked.
Jaxom shook his head. “I have them waiting but they will not last long.” His friends looked to each other in worry and then into the surrounding trees.
“Do you know who they are?” Cribble asked looking to Adriana for the answer.
“They come from the city,” she said. “I have never seen them up close and never within the forest. My father told me that they are not men and have been here since the Kingdom fell.”
“Well we have two options then. We stay and fight or we run,” Cribble said.
Looking around at their faces, Jaxom knew that he was once again the one who had to make the choice. Why had every decision since he had returned to Ale’adar been to stand or flee. For once he would like to have another alternative, maybe sit down and talk it out. Putting the foolish thought aside and berating himself for wasting time on them he weighed their options. They could not risk running in the dark against an enemy who knew the area. Where they could easily lose each other in the blackness. To be hunted down separately or run across more of the dangerous animals. So if they couldn’t run, then they would have to stand.
“We fight,” he said to the others. There was no descent amongst them, all having come to the same conclusion.
Cribble let out a grunt. “I knew you were going to get me killed.”
Jaxom reached out through his magic to his pack, two had been hacked apart with the remaining two still fighting. Watching through his risen’s eyes it ripped the head off a man before jumping away to avoid a spear. This was seemingly the fastest way to stop the unknown enemy which became apparent when the other remaining wolf tore an axe wielders arm away, only to see him pry the heavy weapon from the lost hand and attack again with the recovered blade. Knowing that his party would stand a better chance with them here he commanded the wolves to retreat to their camp. Looking through his own eyes, the wolves burst from the darkness into the small area lit by the flames. The group circled the fire facing outward while Jaxom commanded his remaining wolves on the opposite side of him to help Da’san and Brenin who were weakest in close combat.
The first man to walk into the flickering light wore leather armor and carried a curving one sided blade. The same type the shades had used but it was not this that caught Jaxom’s attention. It was his eyes that caused Jaxom to pause, eyes that did not belong to any man holding the faint white glow of a magically animated body. He had never looked into orbs such as these that were not of his making, and for the first time in his life he now knew why the sight was so terrifying.
“Risen!” Jaxom yelled. “You must destroy the head.”
Instantly Da’san released an arrow at an enemy who had come out near him. The shaft leaving the bow with lightning speed and driving through a glowing eye. The risen dropped to the ground, the magical strings supporting it cut away. Two of the enemy risen rushed forward towards Adriana who had positioned herself to his left. Bringing her mace to bare she knocked a curved sword away then reversing her swing to collide with the temple of the second attacker. Swinging his own sword Jaxom removed the sword arm of the first, the appendage landing with a thud on the ground. With the other arm it grabbed Adriana’s throat in a powerful grip attempting to throttle her and Jerup was there to remove that arm as well. With nothing to attack the risen stumbled forward trying to bring Adriana to the ground with its body. The futile attempt ended quickly as the huntress planted her mace in its face.
All around the group risen flowed forward into the light, more than Jaxom could take the time to count. Pointing his sword at the largest group he released the captured fireball, letting it roar forth from the enchanted blade in a blinding streak of red and orange. When the flame finally died away, five of the enemy lay unmoving on the ground and six more had been turned into horrid silhouettes of burned charred meat. Taking no notice of their retched state, the risen continued to move forward. The smell left in the aftermath of fire churning the stomachs of the companions.
A shout from behind him shattered the air. Risking a look, Jaxom saw half a dozen risen thrown back as the ground was torn apart around them. When the powerful note ended, the scattered risen gathered themselves up moving towards the priest again as if nothing had happened. An arrow slammed into the face of one before it could fully stand, another dragged itself on the ground its spine having been broken when it landed. The wolves leapt forward then to tear into the human risen, using powerful jaws to crush skulls and snap necks as another wave stepped from the trees. Surrounding the remainder of his pack they hacked and slashed until the wolves were no more than a pile of blood, bone, and meat.
Turning back to what was before him, Jaxom raised his hand casting the blight forth. The enemy risen were so tightly packed that the tendrils spread quickly to each but it was not working fast enough, even as they rotted they continued forward. Releasing the flow of magic Jaxom swung his sword sending a head flying away. One of the enemy risen grabbed his sword arm, another latching on to his throat with as his friends were similarly being restrained. It made no sense, why were they not killing the small group? The hand on his throat tightened causing him to swoon as the air was cut off. Stars speckled his vision then began to fade as he slipped down a dark tunnel, the light of the fire fading into the distance at the end of that tunnel.
Chapter 13
Corin walked in front of the men who stood at rigid attention. Five hundred soldiers in neat formation, their unmoving eyes facing forward. Leather and chain mail armor glimmering in the sunlight. Lord Telgrin, whose men these were, walked next to him in a nervous state. With these it brought his total force to just over fifty thousand fighting men. It was less than the southerners had sent against him, but not by much. The men looked professional and ready but only the test of battle would truly show their ability.
“You have fielded a fine
unit Lord Telgrin. You should be proud of your men,” Corin said.
The tension the other man carried in his shoulders visibly loosened at the compliment. “Thank you your majesty. It pleases me to know that you find them satisfactory.”
“More than satisfactory, they will perform well when the times comes.” Corin said his mind already moving on to other matters. He nodded to the man and began walking back into his palace, two of his personal guard ever his shadow following behind.
The wagons and supplies they carried were almost ready with more food stores still to be loaded. Passing a pair of his men at the door they brought their fists to chests. The city guard was to remain behind when they marched south, a decision he had spent hours speaking to advisors and deliberating over. The two thousand men of the guard were the best he had, better trained and experienced than those he had just inspected. He had decided that it would be an unacceptable risk to leave the capital undefended, the small chance that a portion of the invading army would circle around to attack the city was a real threat.
Making his way through the halls he arrived at his destination. The throne room was full of people who had requests to ask of him or disputes to settle. He had no wish to deal with his subjects minor problems at a time like this, the kingdom however would not run without these people. The merchants supplied a large part of the taxes that were now funding the defense. The armorers created the weapons his army carried and farmers fed that army. An army could march with limited weapons and armor, they would even march without pay if it was to protect their families, but without food the war would be over before it had begun.
Entering the large vaulted room, he looked up at the paintings on the ceiling. The depiction of his ancestor’s great victories had been there since he was a boy. The pillars supporting the ceiling were massive, taking three men to fully encompass them with their arms.