Rising of a Mage: Book 03 - A Mage Risen

by J. M. Fosberg

  Grundel’s father was the king now. He was being carried back to the lost tunnels. Other dwarves had been sent out to retreive the dwarves who were leaving for Shinestone. Jabaal was being taken back into the mountain as well. His father had fallen to the ground unconscious soon after making it to him, relief and exhaustion overwhelming him. Jabaal had tried to stop Anwar from destroying them all. Then that man had come and done something to Anwar, who was also being carried, unconscious, into the mountain. When Jabaal had realized they were all okay, he, too, had slumped to the ground and soon fell unconscious.

  Rundo had begun treating him right away. He had taken a bad gash in his leg and had lost a lot of blood. Rundo had cut a piece of his shirt off, and then he had tied it tightly over the wound. He had wrapped his belt around that and tightened it down to make sure there was enough pressure to stop the bleeding.

  The dwarves who were still able-bodied were searching the field looking for other dwarves. Dwarves found alive were carried back to the lost tunnel; the dead were carried to the edge of the tree line. Any orc that was found still alive was killed. They couldn’t even think about trying to clear the battlefield right now. All they focused on was gathering their wounded. The dead would be brought up after the wounded were tended to.

  Grundel bent down and pulled his grandfather’s arm out of the chest of the huge orc. There was a sucking sound as the air that had been trapped inside came out. Black blood poured onto the already blood-soaked ground. The skin around the steel hand was ripped to shreds. Grundel lifted the king onto his shoulder and made his way toward the tree line, on his way to the lost tunnel. Every dwarf was important, but the body of the king was not going to be left there on the field of battle. Dwarves he passed stood and watched solemnly as their king was carried off of the battlefield. The cheers followed him into the forest. “Bordin take the king,” and “Stoneheart.” He even heard a few “Long live Grizzle, son of Grundel.” That one stung him the most.

  The last time he had seen his father, he had a dozen cuts and gashes on his head. He was a prisoner in his own armor. He didn’t know how he was breathing with that huge dent in the back. His plate had to be squeezing him. He barely knew his father, since he had been exiled for getting his mother pregnant—for “tainting the line of kings.” His father had been sent away from his home because of him. Now he was being carried back into it, as his son carried his father behind him.

  Grizzle woke up in his own bed. His wife was lying next to him. She was asleep and gingerly holding his hand to her face. He had been so caught up in what was happening that he hadn’t even thought about how this was affecting her. He had given her a child and then left her with that child in a mountain full of dwarves for nearly two decades. Then when he returned it was to fight off a monster from the planes of hell. After barely surviving that, he had run headlong into battle, expecting to sacrifice himself in order to save her and all the other dwarves. He decided that when this was all over with he would set aside some time for just her. Then he realized: He was the king now. He had watched his father die in that battle. He had watched him kill the huge orc in his last moments. The pain came saddled with duty.

  This would never be all done. He looked at his wife. She was the queen, the human queen of the dwarven kingdoms. That was, of course, assuming that the dwarves allowed it. There was really no way to know how this was all going to work out, now that his father was gone. Even assuming that the dwarves of Evermount could be persuaded, there were still three other kingdoms. Then there was the fact that one dwarven stronghold was empty. They could not leave Shinestone uninhabited. Whoever sat the throne in Evermount would have to coordinate the resettlement and reconstruction of Shinestone. If what he had seen today in Evermount was any indication, Shinestone would likely be a mess of collapsed tunnels.

  He tried to sit up. He felt like one of those giant, orc-killing boulders had rolled over him. Now that he thought about it, that might have been better. Anna woke when he moved, and she helped him lean forward. He looked into her beautiful blue eyes. They still threatened to hypnotize him every time he looked at her.

  “Grundel? Is he okay?”

  She rested her hand on his shoulder. She might as well have hit him with a hammer, but he tried not to let her see that she was hurting him. He was battered and bruised, and his head felt like it was going to explode, but all in all he felt like he was okay. There was nothing seriously wrong that he could feel.

  Anna moved her hand from his shoulder to his forearm. “Grundel is fine. We should get someone to help you to see Jabaal, though.”

  “Jabaal? Why, what happened after I fell?”

  She shook her head. “They say that you fell after the fighting was over. Jabaal fell soon after that. He took a wound to his leg and lost a lot of blood. They say that his life is not in danger anymore, but his leg is in bad shape.”

  Anwar woke up in Evermount. Sitting in a chair next to his bed was Rundo. “Rundo, is everyone okay? What happened?”

  Rundo looked at him with concern, but didn’t answer. Anwar thought back to the fight. It started coming back. When they had got there the dwarves were nearly lost. They had snuck up behind the orcs, but they were outnumbered nearly a hundred to one. He had burned away the orcs trying to get into the mountain. Then he had brought down the lightning. Then he remembered the power. The terrible power. He remembered letting the storm go. He had gone mad. He had been challenging Delvidge. He looked at Rundo, concerned himself now. “Rundo, tell me. What did I do?”

  Rundo saw the concern in Anwar’s face. “Anwar, you saved them. You sent a column of flame down the steps, burning away the orcs with the ram. You called a storm that killed thousands. When your tornadoes came the orcs scattered.” He paused. How do you tell your friend that he went mad?

  “Rundo, just say it. What happened? What did I do?” he asked.

  “Anwar, no one really understands. All of a sudden you were just laughing at the sky. The storm was out of control and growing. We tried to stop you. I was yelling, but you didn’t hear me. Jabaal. Jabaal even…”

  Now Anwar was really concerned. “What, Rundo? Is he okay? Jabaal, I didn’t...”

  Rundo wasn’t sure how to explain it, but he couldn’t let Anwar think that. “No, no, no, you didn’t hurt him. Jabaal is okay. He is wounded, but not by you. He took a nasty wound to the leg before we arrived. They say he should be okay. Anwar, when we couldn’t stop you, Jabaal tried hitting you. He even swung Gorgon’s Hammer at you. Nothing worked. Then, well, then a man appeared.”

  He really had gone mad. That had to have been a terrible decision for Jabaal. He would have to have been threatening the lives of all of them for Jabaal to do that. Wait, what did he say about a man?

  “What man?” Anwar asked.

  “Anwar, there was only one man it could be. He appeared, then he knocked you unconscious with some kind of light. He looked at us, and told us to give you a message. He said to tell you not to worry. He said he was going to come back for you, and he would teach you to control it.”

  Anwar thought about what Rundo had just said. Then he understood. He looked back at Rundo. “The Father?”

  Rundo nodded. “Who else could it be?”

  When Jabaal woke up, Grizzle was sitting in a chair next to his bed. His body was sore, but his leg was on fire. He lifted his head just enough to look at it. It was that gash in his shin. It must be infected if it burned like this. Then again it could be whatever they had put in it to try to heal it that was burning. Grizzle was asleep in the chair. He was beaten up pretty badly, but if he was sitting up he must be all right. He had no idea how they had gotten them out of that armor. He lay back down. He closed his eyes and fell back to sleep.

  Anwar and Rundo walked into Jabaal’s room. Grizzle was sitting in the chair next to his bed. Grundel had helped him get there. Grizzle was bruised and battered, but otherwise okay. “How is he doing?” Anwar asked Grizzle.

  Grizzle looked at Jabaal’s leg.
There area around the wound was black and swollen. “He is okay, but the best priest we have can’t heal the leg. They have tried everything. They used the remedies they have. If the infection keeps spreading they say they will have to cut off his leg. I don’t know how to help him, Anwar. He took that cut saving me.”

  Anwar looked at Jabaal’s leg. It was a nasty, swollen mess. They had left it open. They had marked a line along the edge of the skin where it had turned black. It looked like the infection had already begun to creep past it. Mariah would have been able to save him, he thought, but he couldn’t let himself be drawn into that grief. He could only think of one person who might be able to help. “I will go to Kampar. Master Gibbins might be able to do something. Even in Ambar we never found anyone as good at healing as he is. That was part of what led Mariah to her faith.”

  Grizzle looked up from Jabaal’s leg to his friend Anwar, the man who had saved his people twice now. He didn’t have any words for this situation. Jabaal was a friend to them both. They would both do anything they could to save him. Grizzle wanted to get up and thank him, but getting out of the chair would be extremely difficult and embarrassing. He nodded to Anwar instead.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” Anwar said, and then he turned and walked out of the room. Rundo came up behind him as he headed toward the entrance that he was assuming had been reopened. The dwarves would have blocked the secret entrance again by now.

  “Anwar, what about the Father? He said he would be back for you,” Rundo said.

  Anwar didn’t even slow down. “If he was able to come at the right moment in the middle of a battle I am sure he will be able to figure out what I am doing and where I am. The Father will come for me when he is ready. When he does I will hear him out, and then I will decide weather or not I will go with him. Until then, I have a friend in trouble, and I will do what I can to help him.”

  Rundo followed him out of the mountain and down the steps. If Anwar was going to go he wasn’t going to let him go alone. The fairy queen had said that he shouldn’t be alone. After what happened in the battle Rundo had a better understanding of why she was worried.

  Once he was off the mountain and standing in the midst of thousands of orc corpses on the black, blood-stained grass, he looked at Rundo. “Are you bringing your friends?”

  “They will be okay. We won’t be gone long. Bumbo is running around the woods, and Messah is quite a ways away,” Rundo answered.

  Anwar shrugged, then he reached out and put a hand on Rundo’s shoulder and pictured Master Gabriel’s office in his mind.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Healing Hands

  Master Gabriel nearly fell out of his chair when Anwar and Rundo suddenly appeared in his office. “Wow, that was disturbing. Anwar, is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine. Delvidge has been stopped for now, but Jabaal is wounded. He took a wound to his leg and it is infected. The dwarves have done everything they can, but the infection is spreading. I was hoping Master Gibbins might be able to do something,” Anwar answered his old mentor.

  “I’m sure he will want to help. If anyone can help, he can. Follow me; I will take you to him. I think he is overseeing some of the apprentices’ treatment of the sick today.”

  Anwar followed his old mentor down the steps. Rundo didn’t know Master Gabriel, so he followed in silence. The place brought back memories for Anwar, and his grief was building inside him. What he was doing was important, but being here was hard. They were walking down into Mariah’s old area. This is where he had spent hundreds of hours watching her heal the sick and wounded. Master Gibbins had actually turned over the responsibilities of the place to her. He had taken them back on when they had left. He couldn’t help but think how things would have been different if they had just stayed here.

  He knew it wasn’t a healthy thought, but how could he not think about it? If they stayed she might still be alive. His brother would be alive, too. Then he thought about all the people Miskrull would have killed if he hadn’t stopped him, and all the dwarves of Evermount he would have killed. He couldn’t say that the people of Freeman were better off, because he was fairly certain the only reason those goblins had been there was because of him. Could he really be that selfish? If he were given the choice, would he go back and stay? Mariah would never have been happy staying here. Jabaal might never have found Kalime. He would do almost anything to get Mariah back, but he was glad this wasn’t an option for him. That choice would be too hard for him to make.

  When they walked into the room, Master Gibbins was supervising one of the apprentices as he attempted to mend the broken bones in the man's hand using healing magic. For all his magical ability, healing was one thing Anwar did not have an aptitude for. The man screamed for a moment, and Master Gibbins stepped up and took over. He took the man’s hand in his own. The man sucked in air hard and then relaxed. When Master Gibbins looked up and saw Anwar, he became concerned. The man he had just healed saw it as well.

  “What is it?” the man asked.

  Master Gibbins looked back down to comfort the man. “Nothing, your hand is fine. The bones are healed, though it will be sore for a few days.” He patted the man on the shoulder and walked toward Anwar.

  “What happened?” Master Gibbins asked.

  Anwar let Master Gabriel answer. He already felt guilty about Mariah’s death for his own reasons, but being around Master Gibbins, who was like a father to her, just made it that much harder.

  “Jabaal was injured fighting to defend Evermount. The dwarves tried to heal him, but he is getting worse. Anwar was hoping you might be able to do something,” Master Gabriel said.

  Master Gibbins looked at Anwar. “What is his injury? Tell me everything you can tell me. How did it happen, and what does it look like?

  Anwar thought about everything the others had told him. He had seen the wound clearly enough. He pushed down his guilt. Determination took over and he looked back up into Master Gibbins’ eyes. “It was some kind of orc blade. The dwarves think that either the dirty blade or the all the orc blood that got in his wound got it infected. Now the skin around the wound is turning black. They drew a circle around the infected area, but when I left it had already spread past the lines. They say that other than the wound he is fine. The infection had him a bit feverish. The dwarves believe that the only option is to take the leg.”

  Master Gibbins processed everything he had heard before he replied. “The dwarves have the gist of it. Orc blood can be poisonous to humans. Some humans are immune. It’s really about a fifty-fifty shot how the blood will affect you. It will spread slowly, though. The infection typically spreads no more than a couple of inches a day. If we cannot stop it from spreading we will have to take the leg, but I have something that might help. We should leave right away. I will go get what I need and meet you in Master Gabriel’s office in a few minutes.”

  Master Gibbins walked into Gabriel’s office a few minutes later carrying a jar of some kind of yellow paste and a small bag that Anwar assumed had a change of clothes in it. “I’m ready,” he told Anwar.

  “Master Gabriel, you’re welcome to come as well,” Anwar said.

  “No, I need to stay here. There is a lot happening here in Kampar. It is better if one of us stayed. If you are unable to help there is nothing I would be able to do anyway. Give Jabaal my regards.”

  “I will tell him. Master Gibbins, if you are ready,” he said as he held out a hand. Master Gibbins took it and Anwar put his hand on Rundo’s shoulder. Seconds later they were materializing in the midst of what had just a day ago been the battlefield. Anwar made sure that none of them was going to materialize with their foot inside an orc before making everyone fully solid again.

  Master Gibbins looked around at the tens of thousands of dead orcs. The smell was terrible. It was sickening even to Anwar and Jabaal, but they hadn’t been able to stop smelling it even when they were away from it. Master Gibbins bent over at the knees and emptied his
stomach. He threw up again on the way to the stairs, and dry heaved a half a dozen times on his way up them. An hour later when they were finally inside the mountain he was able to stop.

  “That was terrible. I have never seen anything like that,” Master Gibbins said.

  “Neither have I, and I hope I never will again,” Anwar said. “I am going out to see what I can do about the bodies once I know Jabaal is okay.”

  Master Gibbins just nodded nervously.

  Rundo started walking toward where Jabaal was being kept. It was a very awkward situation. He hoped to move it along. Anwar and Master Gibbins both seemed very uncomfortable around each other.

  When they walked into the room, Grizzle was sitting awake in the chair next to Jabaal’s bed. Jabaal was still asleep.

  “Did they tell you what happened to him? You think you can save the leg?” Grizzle asked Master Gibbins as he went to Jabaal’s side.

  “I can’t be sure. I have a poultice that might help, but orc blood can be very poisonous to humans if it gets in the blood. This might calm the infection enough to give his body a chance to fight it. My healing magic won’t help with this. Mariah might have been able to, but I can’t do anything for this,” Master Gibbins answered.

  Grizzle didn’t stand; he just nodded in understanding. It was a last-chance effort. “Do what you can. He needs his leg. He is a warrior. What is a paladin with one leg?”

  “I will try to save it. The poultice should help. If not, the only remaining option will be to take the leg.” Master Gibbins answered him. He opened the jar and scooped out some of the yellow paste with his fingers. He spread the paste into the wound, and then he drew another line along the edge of the blackened skin. When he was finished he looked up at Anwar. “All we can do now is wait and see what happens.” He looked over at Grizzle. “You are pretty banged up. Would you like me to heal your wounds?”