Knight's Struggle: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Tales of the Wellspring Knight Book 2)

by P. J. Cherubino

  The ground rumbled, and as suddenly as it split open, it closed. Only a brown patch was left in an otherwise slushy, red field.

  They all whirled towards footsteps running up behind them. It was the rest of the party. They looked a bit battered and slightly bloody, but a quick headcount told Astrid they were whole.

  “We didn’t lose anyone,” Astrid said with great relief.

  “Yeah,” a breathless Dreg said. “We took out nearly twenty.”

  “That was a serious ambush,” Gormer said. He’d noticed a sword gash across his left arm. “Fuck,” he declared, looking down. “How did that happen?”

  “It’s pretty deep,” Vinnie remarked.

  “No shit,” Gormer said. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He slapped the wound a few times. “I’ll be fine. Let’s beat feet.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Near Keep 52

  They’d only taken a few running footsteps when Jens, one of the crew at the back of their formation, asked, “What about the spy’s family?”

  Astrid skidded to a halt. “What did you say?” Astrid demanded.

  “Before they killed him, he said ‘save my family,’” Jens responded.

  “I thought he shouted something,” Gormer replied. “Before the scumbags killed him.”

  “I didn’t hear what it was either,” Vinnie added.

  “We came in from the other side of the road,” Jens replied. “We were closer.”

  “I should have thought of that,” Astrid said. “They’ll kick his family out into the cold for his alleged crimes.”

  “Not if I was on duty,” Marty said. He was a former guard. After Lungu’s son executed a young bandit woman by hanging her from a lamp post, Marty and his friend Arthur decided they’d had enough. Astrid gave them the chance they needed to defy the system they knew was corrupt.

  “None of the good ones are left at that keep anymore,” another Dreg said. He spat into the snow for emphasis. “No offense,” the former bandit quickly said.

  “None taken,” Marty replied, tapping his brother-in-arms on the shoulder. “But we have to do something. I feel responsible for this. “I was the one who told him I was defecting. He wanted to do something, too. He stayed behind to give us information.”

  “The man lost his life,” another bandit said. “For our cause. We have to do something.”

  “I don’t know why you numbskulls are trying to make this an argument. I already agree,” Astrid said. “I’m thinking up a plan.”

  She looked around at her crew as they all hunkered down in the snow among the thick trunks of pine and beech trees. They looked tired, and some of them were bleeding.

  “First, show me your hands. Who’s wounded?” Astrid demanded. They all looked at each other or at the forest floor. “This isn’t the time to act tough, knuckleheads. I need fit soldiers for this mission.” Still, nobody moved. “Do I have to check you like little kids, or what?” she growled.

  Gormer reluctantly raised his hand. “I stopped the bleeding with that healing meditation, but… I think it’s deeper than I thought.”

  “One arm,” Astrid said. “You go back.”

  Another bandit tried to raise his right hand, winced, then lowered it. “Broken arm,” he said. “Pretty sure.”

  Astrid pulled up the sleeve of his fur coat. His forearm was black and purple. “Vinnie, see to him, and the rest of the wounded.”

  “What?” Vinnie said, his thick jowls trembling beneath his full beard. “I’m going with you.”

  “Don’t give me lip,” Astrid said, temper flaring. She deflated when she met Vinnie’s big, moist eyes. Sometimes, he was like a four-hundred-pound puppy, if the puppy was a genius and could cause earthquakes. “I don’t know anyone better for the job.”

  Two more men raised their hands. One of them said, “I’m seeing double.” He had a huge, bleeding lump on the side of his head.

  The other man limped heavily. She was surprised he ran as far as he had, but that was why she chose them.

  “Going once,” Astrid said. “I mean it. If you’re not a hundred percent, and you come, you might not come back.”

  Steely glares met her eyes as she checked every person. Astrid counted four wounded, plus Vinnie to keep them safe. That left nine.

  “OK,” Astrid said to the remainder. “That’s us. Gormer, before you leave. I need you to find that family.”

  “What?” Gormer said. “How?”

  “Reach out. Feel them out,” Astrid said.

  Moxy shot her a concerned look. Astrid was asking a lot. When they first met, Gormer couldn’t use his magic without severe headaches and nosebleeds. He was killing himself every time he used mental powers. That didn’t stop him from using them, though. To compensate, he’d picked up a serious opium habit.

  Moxy cooked up an elixir that helped Gormer kick his drug addiction, and Astrid helped him focus his powers—but he was still learning.

  “I…” Gormer started. “I want to, but… how?”

  “Remember what I told you,” Astrid said. “I know who you are. Focus on my words. You’re a good man who thinks he’s bad.”

  Gormer made a sour face. “Never been accused of that before,” Gormer said. “I’ll try.”

  He sat cross legged in the snow and closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, and his face relaxed. A trickle of blood ran from his left nostril.

  Moxy bit her lip and was about to say something. Astrid’s sharp glance told her not to. Tarkon saw the blood and shifted on his feet. Gormer opened his eyes.

  “Shit, Tarkon. I can feel you fretting over me like an old woman,” Gormer said.

  “Piss off,” Tarkon spat. “Stuff your brains back in.”

  Gormer laughed as he swayed back and forth. “They’re that way,” he said, lifting his arm and pointing east. “They left the Ward an hour ago, heading the wrong way. Deeper into the woods. Three girls and their mother. They don’t have long. Cold. Scared.”

  Gormer’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he collapsed on his side. Moxy rushed up to him and sniffed around his face.

  “He’s alright,” she said. “Doesn’t smell like rotting meat anymore. Still sick, though. The magic hurts him inside.”

  Vinnie picked him up effortlessly and put him over his shoulder. To the one with the wounded leg, he said, “Hang on to my other shoulder.”

  “I don’t need that,” the proud fighter declared.

  “I know,” Vinnie replied. “We need to make time. So, shove your pride up your ass, and let’s get moving.”

  The two groups split off. .

  “Moxy,” Astrid said. “You’re faster than us. Can you go find them?”

  “On it,” Moxy replied. “Gormer showed me where they were.” She scrambled up the nearest tree trunk and vaulted from branch to branch, using the limbs as springboards to cover more than twenty feet with each leap.

  “Stay alert,” Astrid said. “Be ready for anything.”

  Tarkon loaded his pistols while they ran, and the other men checked their crossbows to make sure they were loaded. They threw noise discipline aside and ran as fast as they could. Astrid didn’t draw much energy from the Well to keep moving.

  To stay focused, she recited her code as she ran. “The Well gives life, so give to others as the Well gives to you.”

  It seemed to take forever, and she began to doubt they were heading in the right direction. She’d only been to the Keep 52 ward once and it was in disguise. The little village that housed the families of the Keep guards and low-level civil servants was just a few miles from the Keep proper.

  Suddenly, Moxy bolted toward them through the snow, leaping like a deer. “Give me your furs!” Moxy said. “They’re almost gone.”

  An edge of panic cut into the Pixie’s voice. “Show me!” Astrid said, and drew deeply from the Well.

  Moxy took off in the direction of the family, leaving the rest of the crew to follow in their tracks. Astrid tore after her, moving faster than a
deer.

  Astrid tried not to gasp when she found the mother clutching her three young girls. She tried to cover them with her body as best she could.

  Astrid quickly removed her furs and wrapped the girls. “You’re OK,” Astrid said. She quickly checked their fingers, toes, and ears and found no frostbite. For that, she was grateful.

  Moxy reached into her armor and pulled out a fist-sized leather pouch. She opened it, dipped in with two fingers and came out with some foul-smelling goop.

  “I know,” Moxy said to the protesting girls. “Roof dwellers can’t stand the smell, but it will protect your face and ears from the cold.”

  “Do as she says, girls,” the mother said.

  “You, too, Momma,” Moxy said.

  “Can you walk?” Astrid asked.

  “I don’t know,” the woman said.

  “Let me rephrase that,” Astrid said. “You need to walk. We can help. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

  A few seconds later, the rest of the bandits showed up. The woman took one look at them and gasped. “Bandits,” she said, and began shaking from fear more than the cold.

  “No,” one of the ex-bandits said, kneeling by them in the snow. “Maybe once, but not anymore.”

  He reached into his parka and pulled out some food. “Pork fat,” he said. “Not pleasant, but it’s energy. Quickly now, eat it. It will help you stay warm.”

  He gave a couple pieces to the girls, and Moxy made sure they ate some.

  “Come on now,” Astrid said. “We need to get moving.”

  It took a minute for the four females to stand up again. Astrid was grateful that at least they had good footwear. The Dregs fanned out and watched the woods while Moxy got the family moving.

  “My husband,” the woman said as they began to follow their tracks back in the snow.

  “One foot in front of the other,” Astrid urged them. “We don’t know if—”

  One of the bandits dove towards the woman and took a crossbow bolt in the thigh for his trouble.

  Moxy screamed in rage and ran towards the figure trying to hide behind a tree. Three more soldiers appeared, then three more.

  “Cover us,” Astrid ordered the bandits. “Protect the innocent.”

  Astrid drew up a massive burst of energy and jumped towards one of the three soldiers. Respect all weakness and always defend the weak, Astrid thought. Her code always came to her mind at just the right moment.

  A crossbow spike grazed the pauldron of her light leather armor as she hit the man in a flying tackle. She drew her dagger and gutted him as she rose up and turned towards two others who faced her with short swords drawn.

  Her dagger ended up in the forehead of one, but the other was unphased. She admired his focus, though she knew he was doomed. He came at her with a swift and expert lunge. Astrid was just a bit faster with her rope weapon.

  The egg-shaped dart put an egg-shaped cave in the center of the second attacker’s chest. Astrid yanked the rope back. She picked up the slack with her free hand while she spun the dart over her head and danced towards the other four attackers. She dodged crossbow bolts along the way.

  One of the enemy fell with three spikes in his chest before he could reload. Apparently, Vinnie’s new crossbow design allowed for rapid firing. Another attacker fell back with a bolt in the eye before Astrid could take him out, but the dart was already flying.

  She realized her error too late. The third man slashed at her with a sword as she pulled back on the rope. His blade sliced into her right arm just above the tricep. It stung.

  Astrid planted her right foot, then came back at him with a left roundhouse kick that caved the side of his head in and left him on the forest floor to die.

  Moxy took out the second-to-last fighter with her claws. He barely had the chance to strike her. The last man was brave to the end. He rounded on Astrid and squared up.

  “Run back to your handlers,” Astrid said. “Tell them they won’t win.”

  “I swore an oath,” the man said. He lunged, and Astrid dodged. Her rope found its way around his neck, and he fell with a severed spinal column at the base of his skull.

  “They followed them,” Astrid said to Moxy, nodding to the family who huddled together averting their eyes from the fight. “Used them as bait.”

  “Can we look now?” the mother asked.

  “Yes,” Astrid replied. “Just don’t look towards me. You don’t want to see what’s here.”

  Astrid and Moxy hurried over to the Dreg who took a bolt to the leg.

  “Close to the artery, Corin,” Astrid said.

  “Oh, shit,” Corin replied. “If I’m wearing this bolt in me, we won’t make time.”

  “We hit that artery, and we’ll lose more time carrying the corpse,” Astrid said.

  “Fuck,” Corin said. “If I die, I’m just meat.”

  “We don’t leave anyone behind,” Astrid said, pulling him close by his furs. “You got that?”

  Corin nodded his head, then suddenly screamed. Astrid managed to get her hand over his mouth to muffle most of it. While Astrid was distracting him, Moxy snuck up, cut the fletching off the bolt, then drove it the rest of the way through his thigh.

  “I missed the artery,” she said. She pulled a small pouch off her belt and bent down with a thorn.

  “Not the mercy!” Corin gasped.

  Moxy shook her head. “It’s not gonna kill you, idiot. It’ll make your leg numb, though.” She jabbed him with the thorn just above the wound.

  “I can’t feel it at all,” Corin said, a couple seconds later.

  “Can you move it?” Astrid asked. Her answer was a kick in the shin.

  “Sorry!” Corin said trying to control his leg. The hole in his thigh ran heavy with blood. “Ah… huh,” Corin said. “That’s not good.”

  “Still not the artery, or you’d be dead by now,” Moxy said. She pulled some moss from yet another pouch on her belt and jammed it into the wound. The flow of blood stopped.

  “I’m so fucking glad I can’t feel that,” Corin said. He pulled himself to his feet and half-dragged himself along.

  “Vinnie will sew it up when we get back,” Moxy said. “You’ll live.”

  They hurried as much as they could. Astrid stayed near the family, while Moxy jumped around in the trees where she had a better chance of spotting danger.

  The sound of an approaching horse brought them into a defensive line with crossbows facing the danger.

  “Hold fire!” Vinnie said. He’d ridden his sturdy draft horse back for them. He dismounted with surprising lightness for a man of his girth.

  Vinnie helped the woman and her daughters on his horse, then shucked off one of his furs. The woman wrapped it around herself and her daughters with an effusion of thanks.

  “He’s a good horse,” Vinnie said, patting the taciturn beast on the side. “He knows which way to go. If something happens, tap your heels against his sides, and he’ll run faster. Or, as fast as he can go, at least.”

  They finally reached the rendezvous point where their horses waited for them. It seemed like a very long ride back to Argan village.

  “I really need a nap,” Astrid said as she rode along. She hadn’t drawn that much power from the Well in a very long time.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lungu Fortress

  The First Lieutenants waited under the vaulted ceilings of Protector Lungu’s outer chambers. They had to climb a few hundred steps to get there. Lungu’s business chambers was one floor below the central spire. His personal residence sat above them.

  First Lieutenant Raluca wondered if Lungu was even in there behind those massive doors of polished oak. She cast lingering eyes across her other three colleagues who waited on the thin-legged chairs with her.

  Even the chairs in the waiting room were elegant. Spartan and hard on the behind, but elegant. They were designed that way. Raluca knew how Lungu worked, but she wasn’t sure if these other meat heads got it yet.

>   He’d left them in his waiting room to steam while he went about his business. First Lieutenant Brackan, who was put in charge of Keep 52, was in there with him now. There were no sounds of conflict. Sometimes, the braver or more panicked underlings tried to put up a fight. That only prolonged their lives a second or two.

  No, if Lungu wanted you dead, you died. Usually fast. He’d just snap your neck without warning or cave in your chest—both with a touchless strike more powerful than any other. That’s why Lungu was in command.

  But Raluca knew his weakness. He had many, actually, but underestimating his adversaries was the worst. His temper was a close second. She guessed he wasn’t even aware of the weakness that Raluca saw.

  On the surface, he seemed rather calculating and careful. The truth, though, was that he was so powerful and he’d been so used to winning for so long, that he didn’t fully comprehend the reasons for his success. He simply thought that his strength alone was the reason he won. He only thought in terms of narrowly-defined strength and weakness.

  Finally, the doors opened. First Lieutenant Brackan stormed out of the offices, very much alive and very angry. He stared at his feet as if they needed strong supervision.

  Raluca rose with the others, but allowed them to jostle for position and follow Lungu into the offices first. She was surprised to find the boardroom table stocked with the Treasurer Brol, the Lands Minister Dralca, and Chief Commissioner Brovka.

  As was customary, the Lieutenants stood statue-still and perfectly upright in a straight line before their Protector.

  Lungu studied them like a rich man inspecting his race horses.

  “Two months,” Lungu boomed. “Two months and eleven days, to be exact. Seventy-one times the sun has risen on this vile female stranger in our lands. This woman defies us, breaks our laws, and dares to tell me, the Ruler of this land, how I may dispense my authority.”

  Raluca caught the expression of Chief Commissioner Brovka when Lungu spoke the words “my authority.” Brovka winced and looked down at the table.

  That meant something, she thought. Something I can use.