Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2)

by Brian W. Foster

  “You don’t understand how serious this is.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. You won’t give me any information.”

  Mayor Williamson sighed. “Son, I want to tell you.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “If word got out, there might be a panic.”

  “War is coming, your honor,” Dylan said. “If King Barius wins … well, people in Dastanar have it rough. Everybody’s lives will change dramatically for the worse. Compared to that, your news is so terrible no one could bear to hear it?”

  “When I was elected, I swore an oath to guard this secret. Only myself, Captain Reed, and the two oldest council members know about it. But … maybe, given the circumstances … I’m clinging too hard to tradition.”

  “I understand the need for discretion, your honor,” the sergeant said, “but Dylan and I do represent the duke. If the situation is as dire as you say, we’re your best hope of getting something done about it.”

  Mayor Williamson’s shoulders sagged. “I can trust both of you?”

  “Of course, your honor,” Dylan said.

  After Sergeant Pruitt rushed to agree, though, the mayor still paused.

  “What could possibly be so bad, your honor?” Dylan said.

  “Magic.”

  Dylan kinetically lifted a small jar of ink off the mayor’s desk and set it gently back down. “So?”

  “Not mage magic, a different kind. Dark. Evil. It feeds on the life energy of the user.”

  “Bad for them, good for us if we’re fighting,” Dylan said. “They use too much and they die, right?”

  “Yes,” the mayor said, “but you also can’t block them. A single cloak-bearer could wipe Eagleton from existence in an instant with no way to stop it.”

  Cloak-bearer, huh? Sounded like a tale used to scare children. Only Dylan had grown up in the town and had heard no stories about them.

  “What do they want?” Dylan said. “How can they be stopped?”

  “For centuries, they attacked once every twenty to thirty years, but I don’t know what they sought. The wizards always defeated them before they destroyed the town, but I don’t know what specific strategies or tactics they used.”

  “That’s it?” Dylan said. “You can’t tell me anything else?”

  “We lost so much knowledge when magic was outlawed. Even the town’s secret histories were destroyed.”

  Dylan rubbed his temples. “You’re not giving me much to work with, your honor. All I can promise is to bring it to the duke when I see him.”

  “I guess that will have to be enough,” the mayor said.

  “Good. That’s settled for the moment, then. Turning from an unsolvable problem to one you can, hopefully, help me with, I’ve got to convince the potential mages I found to go with me to Asherton. I’m open to ideas, your honor.”

  “I know what I’d do, son, but you won’t like it.”

  “I’ve liked nothing else I’ve heard today, so what’s one more?”

  Mayor Williamson barked out a single laugh. “True enough, son. True enough.” Still, he paused before speaking again. “The way you convince good people to go to war is to make them understand the importance of their sacrifice, and that requires a certain skill at … guiding their choices.”

  “You mean manipulating them.”

  “I warned you that you wouldn’t like it.”

  “Fine,” Dylan said. “I’m assuming you’re going to advise me on the … guiding … process?”

  “First, prime the pump, so to speak. Get them feeling their obligations to their community.”

  Dylan grimaced. “And how the blast do I do that?”

  “Gather the entire town, son. Tell everyone what’s at stake. People will always encourage others to make sacrifices.”

  Dylan’s heart thudded. Brant and Xan loved making speeches. The attention. Having everybody listening to them.

  Backroom deals were Dylan’s forte. The thought of so many people looking at him … he shuddered. “You’re right. I don’t like it. Can’t I just offer them a reward? Most of them have never even seen a triad …”

  “The mayor’s right.” Sergeant Pruitt spat again. “You’re calling on these men and women to risk their lives. Loyalty like that can’t be bought. Their friends and family and neighbors cheering them on … well, hard to say no to that.”

  For a half hour, Dylan argued unsuccessfully against the necessity of him making a speech, suggesting that either the mayor or the sergeant would be a better choice. The two older men stood their ground, though, and he relented—a failure that didn’t exactly fill him with confidence about his ability to sway a crowd.

  * * *

  Dylan jumped at the first peal.

  He’d heard the town’s bells rung only three times. When he was eight, the mayor died, and everyone was called to an emergency meeting where the elders chose the successor. When he was thirteen, the church caught fire, and it had taken the entire town working together to save it.

  Dylan frowned. The third time was … for him to give a speech.

  Less than a half hour later, people filled the square, and Mayor Williamson gestured for Dylan to climb atop a podium that had been drug out. He clutched his medallion, so not wanting to go up those stairs. So much was riding on him getting it right. His mind went blank. What was he supposed to say?

  Someone grabbed his right hand. He looked to his side. Mari.

  Okay, he could do it.

  He trudged up the stairs with the enthusiasm of a condemned man going to the gallows. “G-greetings. For the last two months, I’ve gone to a lot of you here in Eagleton and everyone in the surrounding communities. Each person, I touched by the hand and asked to think about a series of really weird things. I’m sure most of you thought I was off my rocker.”

  There were a lot of chuckles over that one. Too many. Only the truth was funny.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not crazy. My actions were sanctioned not just by the mayor but by the duke.” He held Brant’s letter above his head. “And as I just got word, by the queen as well.”

  He wasn’t much of an orator, but the crowd hung on his every word at that point.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard rumors that I’m a mage.”

  Many people nodded. Though he’d not flaunted it, he hadn’t kept it a secret, either.

  “And of course, most of you suspected it of Xan given what happened with the catcher.”

  Even more nods.

  He took a deep breath and launched himself five feet off the ground. “Well, it’s true.”

  Expressions turned from agreement and curiosity to worry.

  “And I’m also sure you’ve all wondered why I haven’t been put to death.” Dylan landed back on the podium. “The truth is that our kingdom is in trouble. Dastanar broke the Prohibition Against Magic Decree and broke it in a big way. While Bermau and Kaicia executed all mages they found, Dastanar secretly recruited them. Now, they have an almost unbeatable army of magic users.”

  Concern was quickly turning to fright.

  “Queen Anna and Duke Asher can only come up with one solution. To fight Dastanar’s army of mages, Bermau needs its own army.”

  There were a few gasps, but most followed along. He hadn’t lost the crowd, yet.

  “Look, you know me. I’m a merchant, not a politician. Across the bargaining table from any of you, I’d like to think I’d come out with the better end of the deal.”

  A few people laughed.

  “There’s a war coming, and standing up here desperately needing your support, I’m not sure what to do. What words are adequate to convince you to send your sons and daughters off possibly to die? None I can think of. All I can do is tell you the truth and trust you to do the right thing.

  “I’ve been tasked with recruiting magic users. That includes—” Dylan felt bad about the next part. “—Ren, Kara, Neva, Tani, Minerva, Steph, Darrick, Lemuel, and Edmund from here in Eagleton. You’ve probably also notice
d seven men and women from other communities staying with me at the inn. Them, too. Each of those sixteen are not mages, yet, but they have the potential.”

  Eyes widened at the announcement. Gaps opened as the crowd eased away from the people named. Neva sobbed.

  “Stop!” Dylan said. “I know you’ve been taught to revile anyone born with magical ability, but those people you’re distancing yourselves from? They’re your only hope of not becoming slaves to King Barius. All your lives, you’ve heard stories about what life is like in Dastanar. Slavery. Farmers not keeping enough of the food they grow to keep their own children fed. And forget doing more than barely eking out a living. If you value the freedoms we have, you should be clapping them on the back instead of casting them aside.”

  The shuffling ceased, probably because the people were more afraid of being called out than of any deeply held conviction caused by his words, but he’d take it.

  “Dastanar has us outnumbered. We need every person we can get, or Bermau will be overrun. Duke Asher has tasked me with getting as many of you to come with me as I can. So now I ask, who among you who I named will serve your duke and your kingdom in this time of need?”

  Dylan waited. He’d made his pitch. All that was left was to leave it to his neighbors.

  For a long moment, no one said or did anything until Tani’s father, Master Guthrie, raised his hand, still holding a rolling pin dusted white with flour from the bakery. “Son, I’ve got nothing against you. Your family always treated me right. But … mages? War?”

  As Dylan fumbled for a response, Master Willow cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him.

  “I don’t reckon I’m any more one for talking than young Master D’Adreci here, but I guess now’s the time to speak my piece.” He paused. “My pa told me stories about why magic was outlawed. Blasts. A war between rival wizards. Bad times for everyone. And my pa didn’t fault the king none for what he did.”

  Dylan tensed. A respected townsman speaking against him would ruin everything.

  “But pa also told me about the worst time in his memory, one that only people in this here town went through. The tribes were gonna attack, and every man, woman, and child was afeared they’d be killed.” Master Willow raised a finger. “Now, no matter how I begged, he wouldn’t tell me why regular troops wouldn’t be a help, but he was sure positive they wouldn’t.” He shrugged. “Way he told the story, the Eagle saved all of them, and it was a near thing, too. Lot of people must’ve thought the same because they renamed the town after him. Even after all the bad stuff got said about mages, pa never said nary a cross word about them.”

  Dylan nodded. “Like most, I thought magic users were something to be scared of, and a long time passed before I learned they’re just people. Like them.” He made a sweeping gesture that took in the recruits. “Like me.”

  Master Guthrie let out a breath. “I guess if Tani follows after you … I guess I’d be proud. Worried, but proud.”

  Someone cheered, and many others joined in, followed by lots of encouraging shouts. In the end, all sixteen potentials agreed to accompany Dylan.

  He shut his eyes. His job had been to convince them to volunteer, and he’d succeeded. But at what cost?

  Quite possibly, all of them might die and, almost certainly, some would. They were adults capable of making their own choices, but if not for him, they might have decided differently. For better or worse, their lives were his responsibility.

  72.

  Ashley held a handkerchief over her mouth.

  When the army had left Escon, their shiny uniforms had gleamed, and they’d marched in perfect lockstep. So impressive. So handsome. So confident and ready to take on any enemy in the three kingdoms.

  The returning soldiers walking along Escon’s main road in the mid-morning sunlight looked nothing like that. Disheveled and weary. Scarred. Dejected.

  A young man limped past, and Ashley tried to meet his eye. One job of the nobles was to show strength and lift spirits.

  The boy stared through her. Dazed. Unseeing.

  A bandage was wrapped several times around his forehead. Despite the layers, blood still seeped through to stain the outside. Cotton plugged his ears.

  Many shared his maladies. Almost the entire army had tuffs of white sticking from their ears, and a good quarter had other visible injuries. More than a dozen armored knights rode in the back of wagons instead of riding huge war stallions.

  She couldn’t count all the men passing by, but they certainly numbered less than the twenty-five hundred who’d marched out. Almost none carried bows, and the army had contained a sizeable force of archers. Not to mention that General Marsh was nowhere to be seen.

  What had Xan done?

  The queen would be livid. Just being a known associate of his would make her suspicious of Ashley.

  And if the army looked like that, what about Xan? Was he even still alive?

  He had to be. Probably was. A wizard against common soldiers … all he had to do was stay high enough in the air. Surely the army had received the worst of whatever happened.

  Ashley nodded. Yes, he was fine, and she would be, too … if she could somehow spin things to her advantage. At least she’d counseled against sending the army. That would help her standing with the queen. Some.

  Either way, not much she could do about it until the queen summoned her.

  Ashley returned her attention to the solemn parade of defeated soldiers, offering what encouragement she could. Once they’d passed, she went back to her room and waited. And waited. In all, four hours went by before the expected page arrived.

  Ashley stepped warily into the throne room and found the queen pacing the dais. That she was agitated enough to let it show physically was not a good sign. Duke Macias, two army officers, and a score of advisors sat just below her, watching her every step, their faces grim.

  “Sit, child. You’re the last to arrive.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Ashley bowed and hurried to a seat near the front of the room.

  “That … that … peasant! … murdered General Marsh and two of his top colonels. Hung them from ropes like common horse thieves. Called it an execution as if he had the right!” The queen clenched and unclenched fists. “Of even more concern, it turns out your father was correct about Dastanar. There is now definitive proof that King Barius has twelve hundred mages and is moving against us.”

  Ashley grimaced. Killing commoners was one thing, and if an arrow ended up in a noble … well, battles were chaotic. But executing nobles? Not an act easily forgiven.

  “Excuse me, your majesty,” one of the officers said. “How many mages do we have?”

  The queen met Ashley’s eyes. “Good question.”

  “It’s going faster since we got three of them to surge, your majesty. We’ve found thirty-two so far, and we’re almost finished checking the soldiers.”

  “That’s not enough. Not nearly enough.” The queen frowned. “We’ll have to test citizens.” She turned to the officer. “General Waller, congratulations on your promotion. It’s time to earn it. Devote all necessary resources to getting the men with potential to surge. Those that have should be testing to find more. I want one hundred mages by the end of the month. If not, you’ll be the shortest tenured commander in Bermau’s history.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” General Waller said.

  “Even if we reach one hundred and Duke Asher matches it,” the queen said, “we’ll still be outnumbered six to one. I need ideas. Now.”

  Allying with Xan would cut their disadvantage to closer to four to one, but that suggestion couldn’t come from Ashley. She met Duke Macias’ eyes.

  He nodded. “The wizard has been recruiting as well, your majesty.”

  Queen Anna stopped pacing. “I’ve considered it. Even after all he’s done, I’ve considered it.” She shook her head. “I cannot meet his demands. If I were to treat a commoner as an equal, the dukes would rebel in an instant. The very fact he yet lives
damages my position.”

  “We cannot afford war with him and Dastanar at the same time, your majesty,” the duke said.

  “Is there any other option?”

  Ashley cleared her throat. “I might have one, your majesty.”

  “Really? Well, speak up, then.”

  “Assassination, your majesty.” Ashley swallowed. “It’s distasteful, I know, but it both removes him from the picture and keeps his mages in play.”

  “I wish it were that easy. If we attempt it and fail, who knows what the boy will do? I have no one I trust to carry out the task.”

  “Yes, you do, your majesty.” Ashley squared her shoulders, her posture stiff as a board. “Me.”

  73.

  Tasia stuck her finger in her ear, ran it round and round a couple of times, and popped it out.

  “Charming,” Ashley said, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Lainey’s eyes darted between them, her mouth gaping.

  “I must have heard you wrong,” Tasia said. “What did you promise the queen you would do?”

  “Assassinate Xan.” Ashley said it like it was the most normal thing ever.

  “Are you insane?”

  “No,” Ashley said, “but he might be.”

  “What?”

  “We must face the possibility he’s no longer the boy we knew in Asherton or the boy who Lainey grew up with.”

  “Really? We must face that possibility?” Tasia rolled her eyes. “Who, then, do you think he might be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Ashley said. “The only living person to use a blast? A man who has personally hanged five persons? Someone who killed four hundred and thirty-eight of the queen’s soldiers?”

  Lainey buried her face in her hands.

  “You …” Tasia said. “But … I mean …”

  Xan had done all those things, but surely, he had good reason.

  “Yes?” Ashley said. “You mean what?”

  “You’re spinning everything against him.”

  “I merely stated facts.”