Mage for Hire

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Mage for Hire Page 35

by Jason Kenyon


  Had Belias done something bad to Ardon? Or maybe, Obdo hoped, Ardon had run away like Albarte, and wasn’t dead. He preferred that scenario, and decided to believe in that.

  It was time for quick answers, not dilly-dallying.

  ‘To the farm!’ Obdo yelled. Everyone within range gave Obdo rather worried looks and backed away. The landlord wondered if his drinks were giving off such powerful fumes they had made Obdo drunk by scent alone. The barmaid simply thwacked him with her cloth.

  ‘Go on, then!’ she said. ‘Out with you!’

  Obdo did so with delight. He had not been so splendidly banished since Sir Mage had been on top form. Still, stepping back into the crimson glow filled him with that familiar shiver as he recalled Bartell that night, assuming command with such casual yet dominant ease.

  ‘There he is!’ came a yell, and Obdo saw a flash of steel and a charging horse before being near-run down.

  ‘What the buggery…’ Obdo managed before stumbling backwards and landing very hard on his rear. ‘Oof!’

  His assailant stood triumphantly over him, sword at the ready. ‘Not so big now, are we, necromancer?’

  Obdo blinked and then chuckled at the absurdity of it. ‘Sir Shiny, what the sod are you doing?’

  Neurion fixed Obdo with an unusually intimidating glare. ‘Something I ought to have done long ago,’ he replied. ‘I thought you could be reformed, but I see I was wrong!’

  Obdo burst out into full laughter. ‘Oh, you actually do believe it! I lost my bet with Sir Mage. Bugger.’

  ‘You have gambled dangerously,’ Neurion said, ‘but this time you have rolled a one. It’s the end for you.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Obdo said with a chuckle. ‘Come on, you daft paladin, put the sword away.’

  Neurion shook his head. ‘The reckoning is at hand. Whatever part you played in Lord Bartell’s plans, you will now suffer eternal damnation sooner than you dreamed.’ He fired off a sarcastic salute. ‘Farewell, Obdo, farmhand and necromancer.’

  Suddenly Obdo really understood that Neurion was being serious, and panic overtook him. ‘Now hang on a minute,’ he said. ‘Wait, wait! I’m not a necromancer!’

  ‘Only a true necromancer would deny being a necromancer,’ Neurion said with damning finality.

  ‘Uh, well then, are you a necromancer?’ Obdo asked.

  Neurion smiled indulgently. ‘No.’ The smile faded. ‘I mean… yes… I mean… hey, wait a minute. That phrase makes no sense!’

  Obdo hopped to his feet and nearly twisted his ankle in the process. ‘Exactly!’ he said with rather less force than he had intended, owing to his not-so-glorious sprain. ‘Now are you going to be more sensible, or am I going to have to club you?’ He realised he no longer had the club he’d bought in Melethas. ‘Or, uh… I will hit you with a branch… or something.’

  ‘So Master Archimegadon was wrong?’ Neurion asked.

  ‘Just a bit,’ Obdo replied, although he winced at the name.

  ‘Then who is the necromancer?’

  ‘I was just about to ask Farmer Belias,’ Obdo replied. ‘He’s been acting up. Something’s not right.’

  Neurion swept a hand through the air. ‘That is by the by. What matters is that I wronged you. Can you forgive me, brother?’

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ Obdo replied, shrugging. ‘But about…’

  ‘There!’ came a female voice. Obdo saw another flash of steel and leapt to one side as another horse charged him. The rider dismounted and lunged at him with her blade. ‘Die, necromancer!’

  Obdo skipped back a step and Neurion took the opportunity to grab the newcomer’s sword arm and hold her back.

  ‘Stupid bloody paladins!’ Obdo said. ‘Sod off the lot of you!’

  ‘You have to forgive our companion,’ Valia said, riding over serenely. ‘She’s sadly a paladin like Neurion.’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed,’ Obdo said. ‘What are they, the same person split in two?’

  ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Anjilo is female,’ Valia said, looking down on them all like a stately lady.

  Obdo shrugged.

  ‘I see your sense of humour is still at a nursery level,’ Valia said with a sigh. ‘I suppose we’re lucky she went for you and not someone else entirely, bearing in mind she’s never seen you.’

  ‘The Light led me true!’ Anjilo said. ‘So, uh... have you decided he’s not a necromancer?’

  ‘I’m going to make myself a bloody sign that says I’m not,’ Obdo said, ‘just so I don’t have to keep telling everyone I meet. And, to be honest, I would probably just hit paladins with it.’

  ‘I’m Anjilo Dawnfield,’ the new paladin said, taking his hand and shaking it as though she had not just tried to slice him in two.

  ‘Uhm, pleasure,’ Obdo said.

  Anjilo scratched her hair. ‘Yeah, um, sorry about trying to kill ya. Neurion told us you were a necromancer.’

  ‘So I gathered!’ Obdo said. ‘People should know better than to trust the words of Sir Rusty.’

  ‘Then we agree at last, farmhand,’ Valia said.

  ‘Oh, I’m so excited,’ Obdo said. ‘The stupid harpy agrees with me.’

  ‘Shush,’ Neurion said. ‘Even if you are not a necromancer – I am still very surprised – you are very insolent. You should address us soldiers of the Kingdom of Valanthas with respect.’

  ‘Say what you like, snob,’ Obdo returned. ‘I made a better farmhand than you make a paladin.’ Neurion huffed loudly but everyone ignored him. ‘Besides, we’re in New Valanthas. You Old Valanthian soldiers can’t boss me around.’

  ‘Actually, since Commander Grand and much of the order are within these magic walls,’ Neurion said, ‘I’d say we’re well within our rights.’

  ‘That just makes him powerless too,’ Obdo said. He eyed Anjilo. ‘But I guess this means you got to the cathedral after all.’

  ‘Well noted,’ Valia said. ‘But yeah, we spoke to Commander Grand. To cut a long story short, he and his order are under siege from Bartell’s men, so he’s sent us to just scout out the rumours of necromantic activity.’

  ‘I think Farmer Belias knows something!’ Obdo said. ‘All my own work.’

  ‘Amazing,’ Valia said. ‘Anything more? Where’s that awful ex-mage?’

  ‘Rumoured dead,’ Obdo replied. ‘But the man who told me that was Belias, who is acting very oddly. I don’t know what’s up, but it seems awfully suspicious.’

  ‘Sounds like your farmer might be hiding what really happened to Ardon,’ Valia said. ‘I don’t like the old con merchant, but I hope he has not been killed. Then again, didn’t you say Belias was a really nice man?’

  ‘It is in the Light that the Darkness shines strongest!’ Anjilo said. ‘Uh, usually the other way round, but…’

  ‘Evil cloaks itself in niceness so people won’t notice it,’ Valia said. ‘A fair point, really. It’s the middle of the day, we might as well make the most of it and head over to this farm of yours.’

  ‘I was on my way to poke him anyway,’ Obdo said.

  ‘Wonderful,’ Valia said. ‘One farmhand would have been pretty ineffectual, but the four of us…’ She glanced at Neurion and Anjilo looking all shiny, although in a bit of a red way thanks to the dome. ‘Well, we should be able to scare him into talking.’

  Obdo gave her a look. ‘Great. I’ll lead you straight there.’

  As Obdo ran off, Anjilo looked over at Valia.

  ‘Guess you were right,’ Anjilo said. ‘Sorry I didn’t listen back at the cathedral.’

  Valia gave a sour shrug. ‘I suppose I’m used to it,’ she said. She pursed her lips for a moment and then added: ‘Anyway, no harm done.’

  Anjilo smiled at her. ‘Yeah, and don’t worry, I’ll sort things out with the Commander too. We’d better find out about the real necromancer, though, if we want the Commander to believe us.’

  Obdo was yelling something indistinct as nobody had started following him yet, and Valia sighed.

  ‘Let’s go and
pick him up before he wakes up all the undead in the nearest five miles,’ she said, and the two paladins mounted up.

  *

  The innkeeper was just sweeping up behind the bar when it hit him.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said to the barmaid. ‘I remember now. Wasn’t it something about the boss being what the mage said Obdo was?’

  ‘Something stupid like that,’ the barmaid replied.

  ‘Ah well, never mind!’ the landlord said. ‘Probably wouldn’t have meant anything to him anyway.’

  *

  ‘Sit down,’ Antagules said, gesturing at a great rock slab that sat at the crest of a valley strewn with stone debris. Far, far beyond the end of the valley, a great tower rose to the heavens.

  Archimegadon adjusted his splendid new robes and settled down, finding the makeshift seat less than comfortable. Antagules meanwhile took a spot as far from him as possible.

  ‘So,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Vortagenses…’

  ‘Aye,’ Antagules said. ‘He started out just fine. But like your friends Bartell and Delarian I suppose he wanted to push things further and raise his already considerable powers to greater heights. However it happened, he ended up dabbling in necromancy, and got quite good at it.

  ‘When he made that dome, though, obviously the mages in his service grew suspicious. The nearby lord of the city of Ferrina was openly hostile to us settling so close to his city, so we did need protection in our fledging state, but we could sense that something was off with the magic behind it.’

  ‘And it is hardly the most jolly colour,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘At a basic level there is that, yes,’ Antagules said, ‘but dark magics have a different feel to them. After some time we found out his ambitions to dominate and subjugate the people across the land and absorb them into his widening area of control. There were also suggestions that he had other ways of using the magicks of the dome, as he had notes in his private study regarding the mass-slaughter of thousands at once to allow him to create an army of the undead. We brought the dome down around his ears before he could carry out any such plans, but in return he laid a terrible curse on the Mage Academy. While we were trying to counter what he had done, he ran off and went into hiding.’

  ‘Pleasant fellow,’ Archimegadon said. ‘So the dome was never used to save Valanthas? It was a prison just like Bartell’s?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Antagules replied. ‘Nobody knew but us mages, and the people in their ignorance loved him so much that we kept his good name alive even while we tracked him in our bid to kill him. The Ferrans were a hostile bunch to live near, and most people were happy to be hidden inside the dome away from them.’

  ‘How ridiculous,’ Archimegadon said. ‘People complain about a noble fellow, such as I, who is merely trying to make a name for himself, and the biggest name around is the true charlatan.’

  ‘You suit each other well,’ Antagules said, smirking.

  ‘Silence,’ Archimegadon said with a glare. ‘So Vortagenses is dead, yes? And what’s this about some great power in his tomb?’

  ‘Ah, this,’ Antagules said. ‘Here’s a history lesson for you, and a lesson in magery to boot. Have you ever heard of the demons known as the Gharlen?’

  ‘Erm… no.’

  ‘The Gharlen are a collection of perhaps five great demons,’ Antagules said. ‘Spoken of largely in ancient history. It is believed that they were banished by age-old mages far beyond memory. Now as it turned out, Vortagenses discovered one of the Gharlen, and it happened that the mighty creature was, in fact, dying. In its attempts to save its life, it was sucking magic out of the area around it, and it was this sensation, I suppose, that led our founder right to it. He devised a way to stop it sucking him dry, but also saw a greater potential still.’

  ‘Do tell,’ Archimegadon said, losing interest rapidly.

  ‘He created around it the Throne of Mirrors,’ Antagules said. ‘Now what happens when you cast a spell on a mirror?’

  ‘It ends up rebounding on the caster instead,’ Archimegadon replied with a yawn.

  ‘Very good!’ Antagules said, somewhat surprised. ‘The implications should be obvious. Vortagenses surrounded the demon with mirrors, and instead of it absorbing power, the mirrors sucked it dry. Now the mirrors sit there with great and terrible power waiting to be unlocked.’

  ‘Aha,’ Archimegadon said. ‘So Vortagenses made a godlike hall of mirrors. I suppose he became a hit with travelling players.’

  Antagules scowled at him. ‘If anyone steals the power of one of the Gharlen from those mirrors they will become godlike as Bartell intends. Now the thing with the Gharlen is that while they were forces of destruction, they were mindless creatures all the same, with little capability for ingenuity or evolution of any sort. In the hands of a human this power could grow to phenomenal levels.’

  ‘Oh my,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Sounds rather splendid. And this is what Belias and Bartell are both after?’

  ‘Aye,’ Antagules replied. ‘Now, when we caught up with Vortagenses he nearly escaped our grasp and was about to use this Throne of Mirrors. But just on the threshold we wrested the Staff of Vortagenses from him and blasted him to death. He cast something as he died and the doors shut, and we never managed to break the enchantment. We got the suspicion from the vague notes I mentioned before that he left a key of some sort out here as a precaution for his followers, which is, I presume, what he is instructing Belias to get from beyond the grave.’

  ‘Belias gave the key to Elsim,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Bartell’s clerk. He wanted Bartell to open the tomb.’

  ‘Small wonder,’ Antagules said. ‘The affair with Tel Ariel ought to have taught you that a necromancer’s staff becomes a crucial part of their power. Belias and Delarian probably both know that once the staff comes close to its master, Vortagenses will rise from his preserved state and reassume control of Valanthas.’

  ‘Why does that matter for Bartell?’ Archimegadon asked.

  ‘Necromancers are lesser humans,’ Antagules replied. ‘The dark power drains those who seek to use it. While they no longer rely on normal food, they do still need to feed – and they do so only by stealing the life force of other beings… preferably humans. After his long undeath, Vortagenses will need to recover his strength – whoever awakens him will provide a good snack.’

  ‘So our Lord Protector is being plumped up to be a meal?’ Archimegadon asked with a chuckle. ‘Poor fellow. But somewhat deserved, I would say, bearing in mind his cheek.’

  ‘It is not to get to that stage,’ Antagules said. ‘Vortagenses must not be permitted to return to life!’

  ‘Why not?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘He sounded somewhat useless. I would simply catch him as he returns to life and finish him with a mighty spell.’

  ‘Flamebolt.’

  ‘It is a mighty spell!’ Archimegadon said.

  Antagules glared at him. ‘Now listen. We were unable, in our time, to destroy the Staff of Vortagenses. One of our number turned out to be one of his servants and hid the staff, and when we caught him my friend was stupid enough to kill him before we could find out where. Our efforts to find it were unsuccessful, so we instead decided to prevent anyone from unlocking the knowledge of Vortagenses’s dark origins, and hid the Mage Academy entire as we were unable to safely destroy it or undo the curse. I was stupid enough to let Delarian have a look around.’

  ‘Clearly,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘I have no excuse,’ Antagules said. ‘What I must now do instead is work to prevent this plan from coming to life. What you need to do is go to the paladin order and tell them what I have told you. I’ll even throw in a reloran.’ She dropped one in his lap, making the old mage, who had started to lose attention, jump. ‘Don’t bother after that, they’ll get the job done. Tell them to kill or capture Belias, Bartell and Delarian, and take back and destroy the Staff of Vortagenses. They are not to stop until it is utterly obliterated, or they will leave this trouble for later generations.’


  ‘Tush,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I am perfectly capable…’

  ‘No, you are not,’ Antagules said. ‘You are a Mage for Hire, perhaps, but you are certainly no hero. You have no real training or grounding in using magic and are only really motivated by money. This is a greater cause, and as you have found, greater causes do not often get you paid.’

  ‘You think those jumped-up paladin imbeciles can do a better job?’ Archimegadon asked. ‘Pish tosh. Nonsense.’ He pocketed the reloran. ‘However, I shall do as requested and tell those paladin knaves where to go.’

  Antagules eyed him suspiciously. ‘Right. Good. So… you learnt some important lessons in there?’ She nodded at the Mage Academy.

  ‘Indeed so!’ Archimegadon replied. ‘I learnt that my detractors were all lying hypocrites, that Valanthas is indeed run by greedy sods, and that feelings are foolish fripperies for tedious asses.’

  ‘Erm…’

  Archimegadon hopped to his feet. ‘And now, dear crone, I must return to finish the quest you gave me!’

  ‘Right…’ Antagules, looking somewhat bemused, slipped off the rock and beckoned for him to follow her. ‘Come on, I’ll take you to a portal that will return you back to the exact spot from where you initially teleported.’

  ‘Can’t you come and tell them yourself?’

  ‘Well, this place isn’t exactly in what might be referred to as the normal world,’ Antagules replied. ‘If I left I’d probably just catch up with my years and collapse into dust.’

  ‘I fail to see the downside,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘Yes, well shut up and let’s get rid of you!’ Antagules said. ‘I’ve spent centuries here by myself and the second person to visit turns out to be worse company than the first!’

  *

  Belias’s farm seemed gloomier than usual as Obdo, Neurion, Valia and Anjilo rode down the lane. Obdo, who had been stuck with Neurion (having no horse of his own), jumped off and stumbled into a fence. While the others dismounted elegantly behind him, he stumped up to the door and pushed it open without knocking.

 

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