Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2)

by Brian W. Foster

  The way she said the word that last time, though ... Like he could make her do anything he wanted. The tone of her voice. Anything.

  Except tell him what he needed to know.

  But he’d never force a girl to do … whatever … against her will. Never had had to force anyone.

  Brant sighed. Really, he should just correct her. Tell her to call him “lord.”

  He didn’t. The moment passed, and he turned and stalked from the room.

  * * *

  Brant refused to fidget.

  He wasn’t even going to breathe more than he absolutely had to.

  His leg twitched. That was a muscle moving on its own, not a fidget.

  The last time he’d been in General Flynn’s office, he’d been getting chewed out, damn near court martialed, for disobeying orders. That would not happen again. Whatever the general wanted to say, Brant would stand and take it like a man.

  No, not a man. A soldier. More so, an officer.

  If the general sensed Brant’s discomfort, he didn’t let on. Just went about reading papers and signing. And reading and signing. And reading and signing.

  But that was okay. Brant would stand at attention until the general put him at ease or until he passed out. Whichever came first. Which he was beginning to think was the whole passing out thing.

  The important point, though, was not to screw up again. Period. His dad had trained him to be a good officer, and blast it, that was what he was going to be.

  The general looked up. Finally. He peered over his reading glasses. “Are you a good soldier?”

  Brant’s heart pounded. Maybe the general had found out about Ivie.

  The penalty for aiding an enemy soldier was death.

  Brant swallowed. He had no excuse for his actions. “Yes, sir.”

  “You’d give your life for your duke?”

  That was it, then. Brant would accept it as honorably as he could. “Yes, sir.”

  “I thought so.” General Flynn narrowed his eyes. “But I’m not quite so sure about your friends.”

  Of course, Ivie wouldn’t give her life for the duke. She was from Dastanar! And Brant had no idea why anyone would consider her to be his ‘friend.’

  Unless the general wasn’t talking about her at all.

  Ahhh. Brant’s friends. Dylan and Lainey.

  “They’re not soldiers, sir.”

  The general didn’t roll his eyes, but he looked like he wanted to. “I meant that I’m not sure if you’d sacrifice their lives for the duke.”

  “I don’t understand, sir.”

  “What part of that question was complex? If Duke Asher or I ordered an action that would mean the death of your friends, would you follow it?”

  “Uh …” Brant fought to find words.

  His life was his to give, but he had no right to make that decision for his friends. On the other hand, his father had trained him from birth to be a soldier. A good soldier. And a good soldier followed orders without fail.

  But a good soldier was also loyal. To his unit. To his country. To his friends. And he had no better, longer, dearer friends than Dylan and Lainey. And Xan of course, but that was a whole different story.

  “I’m waiting,” General Flynn said.

  “Yes, sir.” Brant really had no choice but to give that answer. He just hoped he was never put in a situation where he had to follow through.

  “What if the duke or I asked you to take the lives of your friends? Even that girl, Lainey? Would you?”

  Brant’s mouth gaped. “Why, sir? Did they … Did the queen …”

  “Later today,” General Flynn said, “Duke Asher will announce his decision about the mages.”

  “What is the decision, sir?”

  “He’s keeping his counsel close on the matter. It may be that things will continue as we’ve planned, with you and your friends serving as the vanguard of Vierna’s mage force. It may be that you’re appointed to be the new leader of our mage force. Or it may be that you’re designated to serve under someone else.” The general paused. “Or it may be that you and all your friends will be forced to go to your executions.”

  Xan was a blasted wizard. One would think that, to defeat a wizard, it might be a damn good idea to have mages on your side. Seemed stupid to throw away perfectly good weapons.

  But Brant couldn’t hope to understand all the politics involved. The queen was sure mad at Duke Asher for breaking the law. Maybe the duke was being forced to execute his mages as a show of fealty.

  “He’s making the announcement himself, sir?” Brant said. “Is that wise?”

  General Flynn grimaced. “No, it most definitely is not, but will he listen? No. He just goes on about honor and duty and never backing down from a fight.” He sighed. “Mainly, I think he wants to relive his glory days when he got to face down danger personally.”

  Brant frowned. If Lady Ashley and Tasia weren’t to be included, the worst case put him against Lucan, Dylan, and Lainey. Enough archers could overwhelm the death mage before he took out the duke, and Lainey wouldn’t hurt anyone even to save her own life.

  Dylan, though. If he struck out at the right time …

  “Whatever the duke’s decision,” General Flynn said, “will you do your duty?”

  Brant took a deep breath. Kill his friends or put his liege lord at risk, what a choice.

  He nodded, unable to put the thought into words.

  The general saluted, and Brant returned the gesture.

  “Dismissed.”

  Brant turned and walked from the room. Would he actually be able to carry out his orders? Did he have a choice?

  * * *

  Brant trudged into the duke’s audience chamber like he was going to his own execution.

  Worse, like he was going to his friends’ execution … as the executioner.

  Soldiers lined the exterior of the room, and all the alcove curtains were closed, probably also filled with armed men. Brant would have laid money on every single arrow slot being manned as well.

  Dylan, Lainey, Tasia, and Lucan stood near the front facing the dais. Brant’s two friends chatted perfectly at ease, blissfully unaware of what was likely to happen. Tasia clenched her hands, though she smiled nervously at the others.

  Lucan turned and met Brant’s eyes before glancing at the alcoves and up at the ceiling and its concealed murder holes.

  Brant nodded, acknowledging the threat, as he moved to stand behind Lucan. “You ready, just in case?” He needed the death mage to believe they were on the same side.

  “I am,” Lucan said. “Are you? They let you keep your sword.”

  “Which won’t do me a whole lot of good if I’m full of holes.”

  Lucan considered for a moment before nodding.

  Brant schooled his face to keep his relief from showing. So far, so good, if setting himself up to kill his friends could ever be considered good.

  If the worst came down, he’d block Dylan’s magic in order to protect the duke and allow the arrows to do their work. Meanwhile, he’d stab Lucan right through the heart from behind.

  Brant just had to hope that the soldiers took out the girls so he wouldn’t have to.

  He grimaced. Was he really going to go through with it? Could he?

  But how could he not? He’d sworn an oath.

  The door at the back of the room opened, and Duke Asher came out, followed by General Flynn and Lady Ashley.

  The duke’s face bore a grim look, and upon reaching the front of the dais, he launched straight into what he had to say. “Thus far, you’ve all been loyal to me, so I’ll not do you the discourtesy of being dishonest to you. Your fate is still in question. We simply do not know if Dastanar has any mages in excess of the ones we’ve already killed.”

  Lucan took a step forward. “Your lordship—”

  “Now is the time for you to shut up and listen,” the duke said.

  Lucan frowned but said nothing.

  “You claim there is a vast arm
y of mages waiting to attack us, but there is no independent evidence to support that assertion.” Duke Asher sighed. “I’ve been over this a thousand times in my head. If I take you at your word and you’re lying, the queen could rightfully execute me, but if I don’t and you told the truth, Dastanar will conquer my people.”

  He paused. “If you’d give me something verifiable. Concrete numbers. Anything. But you haven’t, and you do, after all, possess a vested interest in me believing your story. So on the whole, I find it difficult—nay, impossible—to base my decision on your claim.”

  Lucan tensed. “I understand, my lord.”

  “We do have indisputable evidence that Truna attacked us with magic and that a Dastanarian catcher used mages,” the duke said. “I would be a fool to ignore these facts, at least to the extent of exercising prudence. However, these two small forces do not establish the presence of enough Dastanarian mages to overthrow all of Bermau and Kaicia, and without such proof, I’m compelled to use logic to determine what King Barius might be planning.”

  Brant didn’t like where the duke was going with his speech. Neither his attitude nor his words made it sound like things would turn out good.

  “As a ruler, I can put myself in his shoes and imagine commanding so many troops each capable of defeating the majority of my conventional army,” the duke said. “How would I control so many mages? Even with just the six of you, doubts about your loyalty plagues me. What if I had a score? A hundred? What method could keep you from overthrowing me?”

  Lucan looked like he had to restrain himself from answering that question, but somehow, he did.

  “The obvious answer is that there is no method, and King Barius, for all his envy of the wealth of Bermau and Kaicia, knows that as well as I do,” the duke said. “Therefore, in all likelihood, he has restricted himself to a small group. Anything further would be too risky, both in terms of mutiny and of discovery.”

  Brant gripped his sword hilt. The order he dreaded surely would come at any time.

  “What if you’re wrong, Father? Maybe King Barius is mad or so full of envy that he’s willing to risk anything to take our wealth.”

  Duke Asher nodded. “The possibility, though small, exists. Where does that leave us, though? Queen Anna is never going to believe it without proof. All she’s going to see is one of her most powerful dukes flaunting the law and building power for himself. It will appear, in her eyes, as an attempt to overthrow her rule. If I were her, I’d have me executed or, more likely, assassinated.”

  Brant tested his connection to the magic. He’d need it at any moment, either to block Dylan or … what? Make the ceiling so heavy that it collapsed?

  Honor or friendship?

  “The only minor saving grace,” the duke said, “is that there are many witnesses who can confirm the existence of a wizard, a powerful one in full control of his abilities. This wizard, if he still lives, is a threat that must be countered.”

  Lainey inhaled sharply. Tasia’s eyes watered. Even Lady Ashley, of all people, looked sad.

  “But there is no sign he is alive,” the duke said. “I’ve had my men scouring the countryside for going on three days now. They’ve found nothing.”

  Lainey sobbed openly, while Tasia dabbed at her eye with a handkerchief.

  “Even that small advantage,” the duke said, “is fraught with problems and pitfalls. This wizard is connected to me. He was my guest and was seen giving me counsel. The queen will be suspicious that I’m controlling him.”

  He paused significantly. “The best thing for me and for the duchy would be if I have all mages executed.”

  Brant tensed, taut muscles set to act.

  Dylan grasped at the medallion beneath his tunic. Lainey stopped her sobbing. She looked up at the duke with wide, wet eyes. Lucan subtly shifted his stance and glanced at the sword hanging from the belt of a nearby soldier.

  Brant watched him closely, ready to move at the duke’s command. Dylan cleared his throat, but Brant couldn’t bear to look at him.

  Duke Asher waited for the fidgeting to die down. “I would hate to take that step, but it may be my only path forward. I’d claim Xan was a rogue, an assertion bolstered by the fact that we imprisoned him. The rest of you … well, we’d say we moved with an abundance of caution before killing you. The queen would make Vierna pay, but my family and I would probably escape with our heads.”

  Brant could see the thoughts going through the minds of his friends—fight or run? Lainey and Tasia, if she were to be included in the bloodbath, would likely go quietly to their deaths. Not so for Lucan and Dylan. Brant hated the way the duke was handling the situation. Better to have just taken care of everyone in their sleep than put them through torture.

  “So why am I telling you this? Am I simply a cruel man who wants to bestow misery on you before I kill you?” Duke Asher shook his head. “A long time ago, I made a promise.”

  He met Lady Ashley’s eyes and smiled sadly. “I met a woman once who was being pursued by a catcher at the behest of a duke. At first, I assumed that pursuit to be unjustified, an obvious abuse of power, but I was wrong. She was a mage. A kineticist. By the time I found that out, though, it was too late. I had fallen in love with her.”

  Brant frowned. He had no idea where the duke was going with the story.

  “What was I to do?” the duke said. “Let the woman I loved be executed under the law? Just because she was born with the dual curses of being a mage and a commoner? If only she were a high noble, the law wouldn’t apply to her. Then it struck me, marry her.”

  He smiled again, his face warming. “I saved her life. In return, she gave me love and a daughter. But that salvation came at a greater price, one I demanded. A promise that she would never use her powers again.”

  His voice choked, and he cleared his throat. “One day, she was to attend a banquet at the manor of a local count, and she decided to ride.” He gazed at the back of the room, his eyes distant. “How she loved to ride! The road was clear. Her guards thought nothing of it when she gave the horse its head. As she galloped, however, the horse stumbled, and Alaina was tossed from the saddle.” His voice choked again. “It was horrific. She landed face first.”

  He paused. “The fall broke her neck. Killed her instantly. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

  The duke stood silent for a long time, gathering himself. “The worst part was that it was all my fault. How simple would it have been for a kineticist to break that fall! But she’d never learned to master her abilities. Did she try to save herself and fail? Or did she not even think to try?”

  He let the question hang in the air, searching for an answer that could never come.

  “No matter which of those is the truth,” the duke said finally, “the fault lies with me for forcing her to make that damn promise!”

  Brant glanced around the room. Everyone watched the duke, fascinated by his story. Tasia and Lainey had tears glistening in their eyes. Ashley’s face was red. Furious.

  “The terms of our deal were not one-sided, however,” Duke Asher said. “I gave her a vow in return, promising to do anything within my power to change the law that mages were to be executed simply for being born with their power. To date, I have done nothing to keep that vow.”

  He paused again. “I also made a promise to you to lend you my protection in return for your service. To date, I’ve done nothing to keep that vow, either.”

  A lot of heads nodded at that. Lucan. Dylan. Lainey. Even Tasia.

  “Today, that changes.” Duke Asher gestured with his arms encompassing all the mages in the room. “If you will uphold your end of the bargain, I will uphold mine.”

  He paused for a moment as he met the eyes of each of his mages in turn.

  “First, Sir Brant Reed. I need a scout with magic ability to determine the extent of Dastanar’s threat. Do you accept the mission?”

  Brant swallowed hard. He’d been a soldier for a long time but never a spy. Getting caught in ene
my territory was instant death, and he wasn’t trained to blend in. Not only that, but what his liege lord asked was not an easy task. The enemy wouldn’t just put up sign posts reading, “For secret information, inquire within!” Who knew what Brant would have to do to get what he needed.

  On the other hand, great risks tended to come with even bigger rewards.

  In the end, though, he really had no decision to make. He was a soldier, and his lord’s servant to order as he chose. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Good. Choose a team, go to Truna or, if need be, all the way to Sadilon, and see what you can find. Get me hard intelligence.”

  The duke turned to Lucan. “If I’m going to commit to using magic, I have to commit completely. Vierna needs a force of mages unsurpassed by any other. We need more troops, and we need better training. To this point, you’ve resisted providing any actual aid beyond healing. That changes. Now. You are to check the entire army for potential and train those you find. Do you accept this mission?”

  Brant’s hand tensed around the hilt of his sword, and he checked his connection to the magic, which would do a whole lot more than steel against Lucan. If anything was going to happen, Brant was prepared.

  Lucan frowned, obviously weighing his options. Would he open himself to magic? Attack the duke?

  He glanced about the room, taking in the soldiers. He met Brant’s eyes and sighed. “Yes, my lord.”

  Duke Asher nodded. “The army is likely only to yield around fifteen mages. We need more. But I hesitate to send anyone to the villages as this effort must be kept quiet.”

  “I know where we can find at least nine more, my lord,” Dylan said, “and we don’t have to test everyone as I already know who they are.”

  “What?” The duke said.

  “Eagleton,” Dylan said. “Everyone who didn’t get sick during the plague is a mage.”

  “Yes. Splendid idea,” Duke Asher said. “Go there.”

  General Flynn whispered something in the duke’s ear.

  “Ah, yes,” the duke said, “better to hold off for a while. Sir Brant must depart quickly, but I’m uncomfortable leaving Asherton so sparsely protected were the wizard to return. Stay here until Lucan finds and trains a few mages.”