Magician Prince
Page 15
Now someone had finally had the sense to pull back the collared magicians and the kingdom forces began to regroup at a distance. A series of horns blew out in the far off field and soon the sounds of cannons firing ceased as the warships moved out of range. There would be no more fighting this day while the kingdom generals figured out how to deal with this latest development.
Xander had to use every bit of his will to stay on his feet. That final blast took not only the last of the young magician’s energy, but all of Xander’s personal reserve as well. He suddenly felt the press of disease on his ailing body as the magic he devoted to keeping himself alive had been spent for the moment. Maybe it was time for him to claim Byrn’s power for his own. The thought of what he could do with that kind of power behind him was almost too much to imagine, but it would have to wait at least one more day, as he was too weak to perform the ritual now.
Alia put her arm around her father and helped him down to the castle grounds. Half of the remaining magicians would have to stay at their posts while the others rested before trading off, but with a temporary break in the fighting the council would have to take a tally of their losses and plan their next move.
By the time Xander and Alia arrived most of the other council members were already there and waiting. Xander took his seat at the head of the table. “It seems that most of us are here,” he said as he looked across their familiar faces. The old masters: Alia, Riona, Skynryd, Levak, and Ryonus were all present and only a few of the newer ones were missing. They were either overseeing the men still on the walls or were dead.
“That was an imposing bit of magic,” said Riona, “I look forward to learning such a spell, grandmaster.”
Xander smiled at her like a doting father, “In time you will, but sadly not today.” To the council, he asked, “How have we faired?”
It was Ryonus who answered. He would have already collected all of the information that Xander would want. “We lost nearly a hundred magicians today.” Under most circumstances the loss of a hundred soldiers would be considered a small thing and even a victory on the battlefield. Xander killed that many alone in the last few minutes of the day’s battle, but when your army only had four hundred troops to begin with that kind of loss was more difficult to take.
“And the kingdom?”
“They lost close to two thousand men by my estimation. Their magicians were used like fodder and lost half of their numbers. Like us they are down to three hundred.” Ryonus announced solemnly. No one here wanted to be fighting others of their own kind. In another day or so, the kingdom magicians would be obliterated in a war they were forced to fight against their will where victory only meant more death or subservience to the lesser humans. “Their Kenzai were relatively unscathed although it is difficult to tell since they are mixed in with the regular soldiers. The rest of the losses came from the general infantry.”
“And the warships?” asked Xander.
As overseer of the naval battle, a master of water magic by the name of Tantellus Marimas answered, “ We dealt a strong blow to their navy. They came with twenty warships and we sunk nine of them along with a number of smaller vessels. Of our magicians, we only lost twenty, but the wall took extensive damage. However, if they breach the sea wall and try to board the castle docks, we can wipe out the piers fairly easily.”
“That is good news,” admitted Xander, “It seems that we can safely move some of our men from the sea walls to bolster the flagging magicians on the land side.”
The healer Skynryd suggested, “We should consider retreating and regrouping. We have lost a quarter of our army. Our forces are not large enough for this kind of warfare. In a few more days we will be completely wiped out. We should be focusing on the hit and run tactics that have worked so well up to now.”
“What of Xander’s magic?” asked Levak Altermas. “If you did that kind of magic a few dozen times, you could annihilate their army almost on your own as grouped together as they are now.”
“I could,” agreed Xander, “but that required the sacrifice of a magician’s life. He was dying in front of me and told me to take his power. Otherwise I would not have done that. Taking the life of a lesser is one thing, but I won’t take a magician’s life and break our code. Of course, if there were volunteers…” Xander looked around the room and few of the masters were even willing to meet his gaze at the suggestion. “It is as I thought. There are few people so noble as to sacrifice their lives with certainty. Fighting for your life in the heat of battle is one thing, but to give up your life, knowing that there is no chance of survival, is another matter entirely.
“The source of that power is not to leave this room. Tomorrow when we are fighting and I am walking the ramparts I do not want to be looked on as some carrion vulture that is waiting on his next meal.”
The council agreed to that, but Old Father Skynryd was not entirely satisfied. “We should still consider evacuating the castle while the most lives could be saved.”
“We stand at a point where we could cripple the kingdom’s army and usher in a new era,” said Xander, “Evacuation may be necessary, but not yet.”
“Evacuating now would lead to the loss of nearly a hundred apprentices,” added Ryonus. “We only have enough magicians that can do a transportation spell to save two hundred of us. The rest would have no chance of fighting off the army on their own. If we were to leave, then it would be like we were the ones killing them.”
Skynryd was not happy with that, but had to agree with Ryonus’ point. “Then we will fight on, it seems.”
Tomorrow it would be time for Byrn to make his appearance and the kingdom’s soldiers would be destroyed to the man, thought Xander, then you will see, Old Skynryd. I just need a little more time to rest.
Chapter 19
The kingdom attacked with their cannons on land and at sea with the rising sun the next morning. The display of Xander’s magic from the day before was enough to cause them to rethink their strategy of rushing the Collective despite their advantage in numbers. Tomlin could not blame them for their cautiousness, but he could not help wondering if Xander was capable of such awesome magic, then why did he not use such spells at the start of the kingdom’s attack and drive them off from the very beginning? Maybe there was a limit to what he could accomplish. Only Xander knew the full length of a grandmaster’s abilities and the rest of them were left to wonder at just what was possible for a magician who had surpassed all others.
Tomlin had not expected to be put on the front lines. His magic was nearly useless in such a battle. His silver tongue and subtle magic gave him a leg up when it came to getting out of trouble, but in a battle of armies and titans he was out of place. He could not throw a fireball like Byrn or summon a monster like Xander or create a shield like Levak, but their numbers were weakened and every magician needed to do his part and so Tomlin stood on the rampart aiming one of the Collective’s trebuchet’s into the mass of soldiers along with some of his fellow enchanters that could not serve as directly as their brethren did.
The trebuchet flung stones taken from broken pieces of the wall from the day before into the nearest soldiers that would have been out of range if not for the aid of an elementalist that made sure that the wind was at their backs and carried their payload a little farther.
He knew that he should have been glad to man the catapult. Every little bit helped to defend the castle, but at times like this he couldn’t help feeling inferior to many of his fellow magicians. Six years had passed since he began his training under Alia and although he was nearly a master at his own discipline he could not manage any other type of magic while many apprentices could perform basic spells from any discipline. The funny thing was that so many others looked up to him. They thought he was brave and quick witted and he let them believe that he thought so too, but underneath his cocky attitude and jokes, when he lay in bed at night he wondered if he was really good enough and if he could rise to the occasion when it mattered.
The wall suddenly shook underneath Tomlin as it was hit with a cannonball. The top of the rampart began to collapse inwards to the castle courtyard below and Tomlin leapt from his spot beside the trebuchet to the nearby safety of the walkway. The enchanter who had yelled at him a moment earlier to loose his payload had made the leap as well, but hung from the rapidly deteriorating edge of the parapet. His grip was slipping and he was about to fall when Tomlin grabbed a hold of his arm and struggled to pull him up. Another man who had been loading stones fell beside them. Tomlin wanted to reach for him, but could not without letting the enchanter go. His grimoire was in his cloak’s pocket and he used it to tap into his magic. The image of a protective ball of magic around the falling man flashed in his mind’s eye and he willed it into being with all the mental effort he could muster, but the power did not obey. Tomlin watched helplessly as the other magician fell to his death.
He helped the enchanter he had been holding onto to the walkway. “Thanks be to you, Tomlin,” he said through heaving breath.
Tomlin nodded, but words escaped him as he replayed the other man’s death in his head.
The wall shook again as it was hit with more cannon fire. Their magicians were stretched too far to adequately defend from the kingdom army’s superior weaponry on all fronts. Tomlin climbed back to the top of the wall to get a lay of the land. Soldiers were moving closer to the castle near the front gates, but moved cautiously in case Xander loosed another of his spells. Tomlin suddenly understood that they were preparing for an attack!
“Cannon fire at the main gate!” he shouted to anyone that would listen, but no one seemed to take notice. All around him magic and weapon fire was being exchanged and his fellow magicians were far more concerned with their own little pieces of the battle. All about him there were a hundred small battles taking place making up one giant war.
He ran across the walkways before he knew what he was doing. The booms of the cannons, so far away, suddenly felt like they were right on top of him. The cannons were adjusting their aim and firing as they went to keep the Collective from figuring out what was going to happen. At least twenty magicians were stationed near the gates and when the cannons across the battlefield all focused on that one spot the gate would be breached and the soldiers would be in position to rush in.
Levak was in command at the gate directing a group of elementalists to lay down suppressive fire against the advancers. Tomlin yelled his name, but was drowned out by the sounds of fighting. The bard rushed ever closer.
“Ashura’s ass! Levak! Shields!”
The magician with the fiery red whiskers turned in Tomlin’s direction with a questioning look. He mouthed the word, “What?” though Tomlin could not hear him.
Tomlin drew in his breath and shouted as loud and as long as his lungs would allow. “All men to shields!” For a moment, Levak only stared at him, but another round of cannon fire snapped the strongly built magician back to the battle and he looked up to see a dozen cannonballs flying directly for him.
“All magicians to shields!” Levak ordered and his voiced boomed with enhanced volume thanks to his physical magic so that all nearby could hear. Half a dozen shields, in addition to Levak’s own, were immediately thrown up in a patchwork attempt to protect the wall, but it was not enough as the cannonballs shattered much of the gate and portions of the wall where magicians stood mere moments before.
Tomlin’s ears rang and he tried to find Levak amidst the bloodshed. The bodies of magicians littered the entrance to the gate and the walkways leading down. Those that fell were surely dead, but some of the people who were still on the wall might only be stunned. “Levak!” he shouted in desperation as he made his way through the carnage. “Levak!”
Then he saw the bloodied face of the warrior-magician as Levak got to his feet. His knees seemed like they were about to buckle as he stood up using his staff as a crutch. Levak wiped blood away from his forehead before it could run into his eyes.
The sounds of hand-cannons firing came from below and were answered by the crack of lightning and the roars of rushing water. Voices called for reinforcements frantically. Tomlin scaled down the walkway with the agility of a cat. His dagger was in one hand and his spellbook was in the other without him even thinking about it. The scene that was playing out before him was one of complete chaos as soldiers with their special armor glowed brightly while they struck out with swords and axes against magical barriers that wavered with each new attack and true Kenzai warriors caked their weapons in blue light while they threw around their anti-magic fire.
“Ashura, protect these men!” Skynryd called out with his staff raised high and a green light shined on the harried magicians, closing up minor wounds and restoring their vigor. It was the first time that Tomlin had ever heard the man affectionately referred to as “Old Father Skynryd” swallow his pride and invoke the goddess’ name to infuse him with healing strength. Though it seemed that the old father and the goddess had been on the outs for many years, in this instance she had chosen to answer him in his moment of greatest need.
Tomlin weaved an illusion of darkness over the soldiers eyes, the Kenzai would be largely immune to such a spell, but the men at the front of the struggle began to flail wildly so that they occasionally hit each other, but more importantly left themselves open to more focused attacks from other magicians who were trying to regroup and drive them back beyond the castle’s entrance.
Levak and a few other magicians who had been on the wall when the cannons fired caught up to Tomlin and ran past him. Levak drew his sword and jumped into the fray. He fought like a man possessed as he was driven on by his magical affinities that served to make him a warrior that any man in his right mind would fear. Tomlin watched and it almost seemed like everyone else was moving at a slower speed as Levak ducked under one soldier’s wild swing and buried his sword into the side of a man on his right. As he pulled the blade free one of the Kenzai tried to strike him, but Levak erected a small shield with his staff and deflected the sword. Then he dropped the shield and brought his sword down on the Kenzai’s head with an overhead slash. His left arm jutted out and he caught a third soldier in the gut with the bladed end of his staff.
More cannon fire could be heard in the distance, but it was directed toward either side of the now contested gate, drawing away potential reinforcements and allowing the kingdom soldiers to clash with the vastly outnumbered magicians in an attempt to gain a foothold within the castle’s walls. If that were to happen then Castle Wolfsbane would be lost before the day was out. Tomlin joined the fray and prayed to Ashura to give him protection. He doubted that she would heed his call, but hoped that the goddess would have some pity on his soul.
Cutting through the soldier’s armor was proving to be an impossible task as Tomlin’s dagger did little more than scratch their iron plates when he slashed and ringlets of chain at the joints deflected his strikes at the usual points of weakness. His spellbook proved to be a formidable weapon when he used the thick tome to bludgeon a man in the face and bury his dagger into the helmet’s eye slit as the soldier was momentarily stunned. The soldier stumbled back and screamed in pain and rage as he tried to separate Tomlin’s head from his neck with no luck. These were no ordinary soldiers. The fine armor and swords were a dead giveaway. These men were warrior caste. They were the type of men who grew up literally fighting for their next meal. That meant that the kingdom was putting a great deal of faith in the ability of these men to break the magicians’ lines.
Kenzai hellfire erupted from somewhere in the back and cascaded over all of the men fighting. Only a few magicians nearer the back like Skynryd and a few that had their magical barriers up were spared. Tomlin’s body
felt strangely numb and he recognized the feeling for what it was. His magic along with most of those around him had been drained. What had been a hotly contested battle moments before quickly translated into a slaughter as magicians found that their greatest weapon had been taken away in the moment that they needed it most.
Levak was one of the lucky ones. His shield had spared him the complete loss of his magic, but the blue flame also dissolved his shield and the tip of a sword kissed his forearm causing him to drop his staff. He moved back holding his sword out in front as did Tomlin and managed to grab the staff of a fallen magician. In all there were ten magicians, half with no magic reserves, left to defend the gate and they were being methodically forced away by the dozens or perhaps hundreds of Kenzai and warriors that came through. The sound of a squeaky wheel spinning followed by the abrupt crash of the rest of the gate being opened only served to confirm his fears about the kingdom’s intention to form a rallying point within the castle yard.
A horn was blowing, but this one came from within the castle. Xander had hoped to hold the castle, but he had a back up plan in place in case it looked like things were not going to go their way. It was time to retreat and regroup. Then they would take the fight to Mollifas while the capital was largely undefended.
It only lasted for a second, but Tomlin saw a familiar face among the kingdom’s ranks. How long had it been since that tall man with the dark hair had been held in their dungeon? Kellen had finally found his way back and it seemed that he was about to get his revenge. “Finish them!” Kellen commanded in his deep baritone voice and the men moved as one trying to box them in.
Some of the magicians fought to their last breath and some ran instead, but Tomlin was frozen in place, not out of fear, but failure. So much death… People he knew since he was a boy… If he had done something differently, maybe he could have-