Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2)

by Brian W. Foster

  Of him.

  Maybe flying down and amplifying his voice hadn’t been the best idea. Then again, they’d better get used to it if they were staying.

  “I bear you no ill will if you want to go,” Xan said, “but you should do so now.”

  No one moved.

  “You’ve been told who I am?” Xan said. “The dangers involved?”

  Hosea nodded.

  “Good.” Xan steeled himself. Time for them to either accept him fully or reject him. “If you agree to work with me for the benefit of us all, you must voice that decision.” He paused, but there was still no reaction from anyone. “Hosea?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  My lord? What the blast?

  “Ada?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Not her, too. If Xan didn’t do something, everyone would be calling him that. As he started to object, though, he couldn’t help but wonder if Hosea had a good reason. Maybe that discussion was best left for a private conversation later.

  Xan continued through the entire group, asking each man and his wife and each older son and daughter for their answer, and almost flinching as each called him “my lord.” Not a single one responded in the negative.

  He took a deep breath. “As you’ve committed to me, I commit to you. I, Alexander Conley, do hereby swear to dedicate all my powers and my very life to providing you what protection and succor I might.”

  The oath was strong. Particularly strong. Several people gasped, and a silence descended over the group, one that probably needed to be broken.

  “Uh …” He reached for something—anything—to say.

  “Perhaps, my lord, if’n you’d tell us what you want us to do?” Hosea said.

  Xan shot a grateful smile at him. “I guess the next step is to check if any of you can become mages.” He shrugged. “It’s unlikely but possible.”

  Several people, including Buck, looked frightened at that, though at the test or the general prospect Xan didn’t know.

  Hosea again knew exactly what to say. “How do we do that, my lord?”

  “It’s easy, really. Harmless. Painless,” Xan said. “I simply touch you while you run through some mental exercises.”

  “I reckon I’ll go first, then.” Hosea held out his hand.

  Xan grasped it in his own, happy to have such great support. “First, focus on your feet pressing against the ground.”

  Hosea tilted his head. “Just think about my feet, my lord?”

  “The pressure created by your weight.”

  Hosea nodded, and Xan delved into the magic and sought the telltale echo that would exist if Hosea were a masser.

  Nothing.

  Xan picked up a small pebble in his free hand. “I’m going to throw this rock. Focus on its motion.”

  Hosea nodded, and Xan chunked the pebble. No resonance. He ignited a small fire on a nearby tree.

  Frae, the nearest to the flame, flinched back from it. Others gasped. Dea hid her eyes.

  He probably should have warned them.

  “Focus on the fire, please.” Nothing. “Life flowing into you.” Nothing.

  Same for sound, light, and thermal.

  “Sorry, Hosea, you’re not a mage.”

  Xan frowned. The process had taken over five minutes, not that long when dealing with a single person but way too slow when he needed to check thousands, and he hadn’t even tested for all ten types. He had no idea how to find binders absent a piece of magnetized ore or bolts absent a storm. Of course, he could summon lightning, but a harmless flame had scared the group. And blighters were beyond his knowledge as well, as he had only the vaguest notion of what nuclear energy was.

  Without a better testing procedure, no one he scanned could be completely ruled out, but thankfully, those three types were among the most rare.

  Ada was next in line, and she showed no affinity, either. Xan sent the family away to prepare for the coming evening, but Marco was allowed to stay behind to watch.

  Buck’s family was next. Neither he nor Colleen were mages. Which left Frae.

  Xan swallowed hard as he took her hand, and her face reddened as she looked at the ground. She, too, tested negative.

  He ran through the rest of the adults and older children, sending each family off after he found no potential mages. The sun rode low on the horizon by the time the last left him.

  “What about me?” Marco said. “Uh, my lord? Sir?”

  Xan grimaced. The youngest of the other children he’d tested had been fourteen. Armies didn’t allow enlistment until that age, so using it as a minimum for combat made sense. And there was no use wasting his time testing small kids who weren’t allowed to hold a belt knife yet.

  Marco was the only one in the group who fell in an awkward middle range. Hmm. Older children were trusted with chores, even potentially dangerous ones like chopping firewood. A ten-year-old mage, presumably, could facilitate crop growth as easily as an adult.

  Besides, the odds were insignificant that Marco would be one, and he’d take great offense to being lumped in with those he considered to be little more than babies.

  “Sure,” Xan said. “Why not?”

  He felt the familiar resonance as Marco concentrated on his weight. A masser. Or a wizard. Best to check. But he had no affinity for kinetics. So a potential mage, then. His life forever changed. Battles. Danger.

  “My lord?” Marco said. “Is that all? You did more with the others.”

  Xan hadn’t thought the situation through well enough. All his mages and potential mages would become targets for his enemies.

  Maybe he should lie. Just another failed test as expected.

  But was it his place to decide? Nobles believed they knew what was best for everyone and forced their opinions on commoners. People should be free to decide for themselves, even if it meant making a mistake.

  Even if it meant risking death.

  “We need to talk to your father,” Xan said.

  Marco was too smart not to understand what was left unsaid, and he transformed into a mass of frenzied excitement, bouncing on his toes while trying to restrain himself.

  “Why don’t you run ahead?” Xan said.

  Marco grinned and was off like a stone launched from a trebuchet.

  With a heavy heart, Xan trudged to the Stouts’ fire where he found Marco, smiling like his calf had just won first prize at the spring festival, waiting with his father.

  “I have some … interesting … news,” Xan said.

  “Yes sir, my lord,” Hosea said.

  Xan rolled the eyes. “Are you sure the title is absolutely necessary?”

  “Yes sir, my lord.” Hosea grinned after Xan scowled at him. “If’n you want to lead, people need to see you as a lord.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Xan said, reluctantly. “When we’re in private, though?”

  “It’s still best, my lord.”

  Xan opened his mouth to object, but really, he would just be stalling to keep from giving the bad news. His shoulders tensed. “Marco can be a mage.”

  Hosea’s face dropped. “What does that … I mean …”

  “His access to the source of the magic is blocked,” Xan said. “Until that blockage is removed, he won’t be a mage, and I will not let him become one until we’re ready, no matter how much he begs.”

  “What?” Marco yelled. “I mean … my lord?”

  Hosea frowned. “Go help your ma with the wash while the lord and I discuss this.”

  “But—”

  A stern look from Hosea sent Marco running.

  “I reckon I knew there would be … challenges … when I agreed to follow you.” Hosea let out a long breath. “But …”

  “Remember,” Xan said. “He can become a mage. That doesn’t mean he will become one, and we certainly need not make that decision now.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  Hosea’s relief was clear on his face, and Xan let the tension drain from his body. The con
versation could have gone much worse.

  “Did you get a chance to inventory the soldiers’ supplies?”

  “Fifteen gold and a dozen horses, my lord, less one each that we gave Arturo. Enough food for us for a few weeks but no wagons.”

  “I was hoping for more than that. Our number is likely to swell soon, so we’ll definitely need more supplies and a way to carry them.” He grinned as a thought struck him. “But I know where to get both.”

  “My lord?”

  “Calkirk has our wagons, and I mean to get them back.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Hosea didn’t look enthusiastic, though.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Hosea hesitated, and Xan had to prompt him to get him to speak.

  “Maybe, my lord, taking revenge on that mayor isn’t the best use of your power?”

  Xan clenched his hands into fists. “It’s not about …” Okay, maybe it was a little about revenge. “I mean … look, what Pate is doing isn’t right. Okay, so corruption and stealing are a fact of life. It would be fruitless to attempt stopping it all, but the people he’s stealing from can’t afford it. He might as well be murdering them.”

  Hosea frowned.

  “Besides, we do need those wagons back, and there are probably a lot of refugees scattered about that area. Maybe I can find a mage or two.”

  “If’n you’re sure, my lord.”

  “I’m not sure about anything,” Xan said, “but I think I’m doing the right thing for the right reason.”

  “I reckon that’s all anyone can ask of you, my lord.”

  Hosea looked like he wanted to say more, though, and Xan waited for him to continue. But he didn’t.

  “I’ve read that it’s important for leaders to have advisors who speak their minds truthfully and without reservation,” Xan said.

  Hosea cracked a half grin. “These mages you’re talking about recruiting, my lord … That’s an awful lot of power. How do you control them?”

  “I don’t want to control them! The whole point is to give them a place where they can live without fear for their lives.”

  “But you need them to follow you, right my lord? To fight for you?”

  Xan grimaced. “What do you suggest?”

  “I reckon your recruits will have heard stories about how the Eagle led his mages. He was a wizard, my lord.”

  “I am a wizard! What more do I need?”

  “To be more … wizardly, my lord? Maybe take an animal name like the Eagle did?”

  “That … makes a lot of sense,” Xan said.

  The nobles allowed slanted stories and histories of the Wizards War, meaning most commoners knew of the Eagle and the Lion. Since Xan wanted his name to give him authority, choosing one reminiscent of them made sense.

  The Eagle was basically a willing slave to the nobles, though, and the Lion went too far the other direction, seeking to overthrow all rule save his own. Xan didn’t care to be associated with either of them.

  In fact, his views ran almost perfectly down the middle between the two. Serving the nobles was out, but he was willing to ally with them.

  He grinned. “Perfect. I’m half eagle and half lion. I am … Gryphon.”

  26.

  Dylan straightened his knees, trying to ease the pressure on his backside.

  Two days in the saddle and he already felt like an apprentice riding with his first trade caravan. The few weeks he’d spent in Asherton made his body too soft. He supposed, though, that he wasn’t likely to be traveling much once he expanded the branch house. Once the troubles were over.

  If the troubles ever ended.

  He and Mari were safely ensconced in the middle of a little procession. Jarred and Jeffry stuck to Sergeant Pruitt’s rear end up in the lead, still peppering him with endless questions. Two of the duke’s soldiers, Filiberto and Garret, took the tail position.

  Not that they needed the escort for a simple journey along a well-traveled, well-maintained road, the sergeant’s insistence that “he felt eyes on him” from the woods notwithstanding.

  That assertion, however, kept the guards on high alert, which meant no one paid the slightest mind to Dylan and Mari, making it a perfect time for Dylan to broach the subject he’d been avoiding.

  “Mari, I was wondering … what you thought of this fine weather?” He was such a coward. “Unseasonably warm for this late in the year, isn’t it? Nice for riding, though.”

  “Yes. Yes, it is.” She looked at him like he was an idiot.

  He didn’t blame her.

  Regardless, with only four days of travel left, he was running out of time to bring it up before getting to his parents’ manor. “What I’m trying to say is that … I’m glad you’re here with me.”

  What a blasted, weaselly, sniveling coward!

  “I’m glad I’m here, too,” she said.

  He sighed. “What I mean is that … there’s a reason I wanted you to come. One that we kind of discussed but that we really haven’t discussed but that needs to …”

  “Be discussed?” she said.

  “Stop teasing me.”

  She giggled.

  “Look, you know I’m interested in taking this thing all the way.”

  “This thing?”

  “Our, you know, relationship.”

  “You have to say the word, Dylan. And at some point, you have to ask me.”

  “Marriage, blast it! You know what I meant.”

  Apparently, Jeffry and Jarred had been paying closer attention than Dylan thought. They both looked back, their faces red from laughing so hard.

  Great. Just great.

  “Was that a question?” she said.

  “No, it wasn’t. But it will be. It’s just that there are so many arrangements to be made first,” Dylan said quietly. “I want to do this right. My parents. Your parents. Everything by the book.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s okay. No reason to rush. Just know that I absolutely do expect it.”

  “Understood.”

  There. That was a relief. And not nearly as bad as he’d been expecting.

  The start of their journey had been mostly through forested lowlands, but as they got closer to Eagleton, the terrain grew more mountainous. They lapsed into a comfortable silence admiring the breathtaking vistas and enjoying one another’s company.

  Shortly before time to stop for noon repast, they encountered a rockslide covering the road, making it impassable. Worse, the earthfall had occurred at a terrible location. A vertical rocky cliff lined the left side of the road and a steep drop-off prevented bypassing it on the right.

  Sergeant Pruitt dismounted and examined the slide. “No way around it, and it’ll take a week at best to go around.” He eyed Dylan pointedly. “Unless you have a better idea?”

  Yeah, he could just move the rocks with kinetic magic, exposing himself as a mage to his future brothers-in-law. Simple enough, but it irked him that, ever since he’d surged, life had declared him to be a hammer and every problem a nail. “Backtracking is fine with me.”

  “You sure about that?” the sergeant said. “I would have thought you’d be eager to get home.”

  “No particular hurry on my part.” Dylan wanted to introduce Mari to his parents, but he was more than happy to delay that confrontation.

  Of course, traveling a week out of the way meant that much more time in the saddle. And sleeping outside. And rationing provisions. Not to mention that the blockage would impede commerce, hurting his pocketbook.

  “It’s not like he could do anything about this rockslide, anyway,” Jeffry said.

  Dylan shrugged. Clear it? Not clear it? Clear it? Not clear it?

  Making snap judgments was never good. Best to mull things over. The right decision was worth the extra effort. His experience with Mari was perfect proof of that.

  He glanced at her, and she nodded back, her face full of understanding at the choice he faced. Whichever call he made, she’d back him up. Marrying her was worth it for
that quality alone.

  “It’s past noon. Why don’t we sit and have lunch?” Dylan said, thinking the meal would give him time to consider his options.

  Sergeant Pruitt readily agreed to the break, but when they’d finished their hard bread and cheese, Dylan was no closer to figuring out the best course of action. He stalled by taking a walk, and when he returned, Jeffry and Jarred were eager to continue the journey. The brothers mounted their horses, preparing to backtrack. Everyone else looked to Dylan.

  “I don’t understand,” Jeffry said. “What other choice do we have?”

  A surge of magic drew Dylan’s eyes to the northeast. More east than north, though, so not Lainey or Tasia on their way to Escon.

  No, most likely it was Xan.

  Dylan almost smiled. They’d had their differences, but they were still friends. He hadn’t liked the idea that Xan could be dead.

  But what did him being alive mean? An ally against a possible war with Dastanar or a new enemy? Dylan couldn’t imagine having to fight to the death against someone he’d grown up with.

  His only choice was to do as ordered, though.

  He shook his head. Which was exactly how he should be looking at his current situation. Clearing the road was a service to the duke, eliminating an obstacle to commerce and speeding the mission.

  Besides, Dylan couldn’t hide his power forever. “Moving the rocks using magic, which is what I’m going to do.”

  Jeffry’s jaw dropped.

  Jarred made the sign of the Holy One. “You knew about this Mari? And you, Sergeant? Why isn’t this man in jail? Or hanging?”

  “I know how you feel, but times are apparently changing.” Dylan explained about Dastanar violating the treaty prohibiting magic use and how Duke Asher was being forced to recruit his own mages.

  With Sergeant Pruitt backing up Dylan’s claims, neither of the brothers could put up much of an argument.

  A crew of a dozen men with heavy horse would have taken days to clear the road, but Dylan was a powerful kineticist. Rock after rock rolled away, paying no heed to the laws of physics. It looked like an invisible giant used an equally invisible wedge to push tons of dirt and boulders out of the way, like a kid running his hand through snow.