“Thank you, young man,” the Arch Magus said as Sergeant Tanner held the door open for him.
Arch Magus Windsbane reminded Nim more of an old drill sergeant than he did the most powerful Shaper in the Protectorate. By all accounts, the Arch Mage was nearly one hundred and thirty six years old, but his body was still extremely fit. The only concessions to his age that were apparent were his dark gray hair, which was shortly cropped, and the walking stick that went with him wherever he went. His clear blue eyes were serious as he looked about the room.
“Arch Magus, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Nim said as he stood up.
“Cut the bullshit, Nim,” the Arch Magus said as he sat in one of the chairs sitting in front of Nim’s desk.
Sergeant Tanner had stopped halfway between closing the door and leaving the room as he heard the Arch Magus’s comment. Nim waved the young man out of the room and sat back down.
“Alright old man, what do you want?”
“Much better, but I’m afraid I’m here to deliver news more than enlist your services in anything.” His cold blue eyes locked Nim’s eyes in place. “I have just received a message from the Mage Za’kereth.”
“I’m guessing since they haven’t reported in for several Eightdays that the information is not good,” Nim said, leaning back in his chair.
“Not good at all, I’m afraid. Corporal Jameson and Sergeant Mcdowell are confirmed KIA. From what the Grey Elf says, the old Dwarf didn’t go down easy, nor did he die quickly.” The Arch Magus closed his eyes for a moment as if saying a prayer for the two before he continued. “Apparently, a large group of Dracairei attacked the squad while the Grey Elf twins were scouting the town. They saw several of the assassins carry an unconscious Rundig and a severely wounded Elandria into a building on the outskirts of town. The whereabouts of the Druid Warren and the Battlesorcerer Trenton Grimbash are unknown at this time.”
“So, you are telling me that Stewart Cantel is heading into enemy territory to try to retrieve the Princess, and he’s about to head into a trap where there are what, half a dozen…”
“At least,” the Arch Magus said.
“…at least half a dozen Dracairei waiting for him. Not only that, but his only backup is a Grey Elf Priest and Mage, who are currently hiding somewhere in the village.”
“That’s about right,” Arch Magus Windsbane said. “They took the form of a pair of villagers who lived in squalor and laid low in case one of the Dracairei was able to sense the Shaping. After several well planned tests, they are fairly certain that if the Dracairei did have someone who could do that they must have died in the initial skirmish, as none of their tests were detected as far as they could tell.”
Nim sighed. “And knowing Stewart, if he finds out he’ll try to distract the Dracairei so that the twins can attempt a rescue and escape.”
“That was also my thought.” The Arch Magus nodded. “I’m afraid we are going to need a new High Commander shortly.”
Nim let several expletives slip at that.
“Indeed.” The Arch Magus stood. “I did send a present with Stewart that could preserve his life if he is able to use it, but with the odds that he is up against, I am doubtful it will be of use. Should he die, the scroll will self-destruct taking it and everyone in the area with it. If we are lucky he will take most of the Dracairei out, one way or another, so that the others can escape unpursued.”
“Thank you for the information. I was just thinking that I needed more information about what was going on outside the city, but now that I have it I wish I didn’t.”
“Indeed, my young friend. Knowledge can be a terrible thing, but also a powerful tool.” The Arch Magus turned to leave, but stopped. “Speaking of powerful, have you heard from Erin recently?”
Nim smiled, he couldn’t help it. “Yes, your god-daughter is fine, though she is not very happy. Apparently, she managed to find the mine where Victor was being held, but somehow gave the boy and the Goblins he had been imprisoned with the impression that she was one of the bad guys, and they hid the information from her for several days.”
The Arch Magus smiled. “Imagine that—Erin giving someone the impression that she might suddenly strangle them at any given moment.”
The men shared a knowing look.
“Yeah, well by the time she found out and made it back to the cave after dropping off the prisoners, Victor was gone. Apparently he is in the company of a Grenaldin,” Nim said, which made the Arch Magus’s eyebrow arch. “Her group followed the pair’s tracks, along with an unidentified quadruped to the edge of Death’s Edge Forest.”
“They’ll never find him in there, even if the Wolverines let them wander through unmolested. What is a Grenaldin doing out of Serenity Valley?” The Arch Magus asked.
“I’m not sure. If we weren’t supposed to pretend like the place didn’t exist, I’d send a messenger to ask, but if those people found out we’ve known about them for a thousand years they might get hostile and do something stupid. Speaking of which, I believe Shawnrik should have started his courses there at the beginning of the year, assuming the Giants took him in like we expect they would.”
“You are right. They like their secrets more than we Mages do.” The Arch Magus said before turning back towards the door. “From what Ashur has said about the boy, I have no doubt that Shawnrik will thrive in that place. I just hope the past doesn’t catch up to him there. Adrian still isn’t happy about how his little brother ended up murdered in Safeharbor.”
“As much as I agree with Lord General Theromvore about the dubious nature of his brother’s demise, I think that Shawnrik will surprise those Stroml’dier bastards if they get any ideas.” Nim grinned. It wasn’t a happy grin, rather one that sent a shiver through most men that saw it.
“I hope you are right,” the Arch Magus said, nodding to Nim from the doorway. The door nearly closed before Sergeant Tanner’s face appeared again.
“Everything okay here, sir?”
“Yes Sergeant, make sure you boys are ready to get some walking done. I suddenly feel the need for fresh air.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll be ready.”
Third Fifthday
Town of Verge
The weather had gradually warmed over the last few Eightdays. The nights were nearly tolerable now, and Elandria no longer had to share her warmth with Rundig in order to ensure they both survived the cold. Rundig was now able to move about, though his body would twitch uncontrollably and leave him unable to do much more than pace back and forth for any length of time.
One good thing about Rundig no longer being bed-ridden was that he could help her take care of the refuse and waste that had accumulated during their imprisonment. They were allowed only enough water to survive, so they were unable to clean any of their clothes or bedding, and as the weather warmed the stench of the place grew. Fortunately, they soon grew accustomed to the smell, but whenever their Dracairei capturer brought their food and water every three to four days, he would be freshly assailed by their poor living conditions. It had become so bad that the last time he came he simply opened the door wide enough for the bag to fit and tossed the supplies on the bed.
Several mornings ago, a small red V had appeared on the barrel in front of the small window near her bed. She had to assume that it was a message from one of the twins telling her that they weren’t alone. It was a small hope, but she welcomed it all the same. Elandria didn’t know how many Dracairei were left, but she knew that if it was more than three or four the chances that the remaining members of her squad would be able to rescue them without casualty were very low. Of course, that was assuming that Warren and Trenton were out there somewhere waiting to help as well. If it were just the twins she knew they would most likely die in the attempt, even with all their tricks.
No, it was likely that she and Rundig would end up as lab rats to whichever Blood Mage was pulling the strings. Should it come to that, she knew she would do everything in her power to make them kill her
. But with her maimed and Rundig severely weakened, the Dracairei would simply laugh at the attempt. If she could get her hand on a sword she might be able to make them regret it.
Even though her left hand had never been her dominant hand, the training she received to become a Dervish had required that she be able to wield a sword with equal skill in either hand. The balance would be hard to adjust to at first, but she thought she might be able to do well enough to at least maim one of the assassins and hope it enraged them enough so they killed her. Of course, if she did that then Rundig would be alone.
All things considered, she had little hope for the future. It would take a miracle for them to escape.
Third Eighthday
Serenity Valley
Once again, Shawnrik stood in the back of the Tailor’s shop. This time, however, he wasn’t stripped down to his underclothes. He had started out the morning that way, but over the last hour he had suddenly become clothed in the nicest, largest suit he had ever seen. The jacket and pants were black, but the parts that Isaac called the lapels were purple with an ornate silver pattern that very closely matched the subtle pattern on his bracers. As he looked at himself in the giant mirror, he realized that the purple was a near match for the purple of the diamond that was in his earring.
He hadn’t yet been to Gnorman’s to pick up the cufflinks, but he had a feeling that the crafty old gnome wouldn’t make anything that clashed with the earing he had fashioned. Olivia had not been allowed into the room this time, as she was with ushered into the next room over to be fitted for her dress by several of the Tailor's employees. However, Verrian was with him today, and from the height of his roommate’s eyebrows he gathered that the young man approved of his garments.
“Dang Shawnrik, that is quite the outfit,” Verrian laughed.
“Laugh not young man, for you are next.” Isaac said with a smirk.
Verrian shrunk back down and started fiddling with his earring.
“I still can’t believe you are taking both of them.” Shawnrik grinned, trying to remain still. He must not have done a good enough job of it, because he felt a small prick of a needle on the side of his leg.
“Tell me about it,” Verrian groaned. “I tell you, I just don’t understand girls.”
“Preach it,” Isaac said as he moved around Shawnrik and snipped at a loose thread.
“I told you that you should have asked one of them.”
“Yeah…” Verrian smiled, “… but how does one choose between the sunset and the sunrise?”
Shawnrik and Isaac both let out a groan and rolled their eyes.
Verrian deflated again. “That was how they reacted to that line, too, and then they said ‘well, if you can’t decide on one of us, you are going to have to take both of us.’”
“Oh, you poor young man. You’ll be the envy of all the other boys,” Isaac said, throwing a grin and wink at Shawnrik in the mirror. “Or at least you would be if this brawny bastard and his lovely girlfriend weren’t going to upstage you.”
“There is that,” Verrian grinned. “Maybe they won’t notice if we come in behind you two.”
“Oh no,” Isaac laughed. “You’ll want to enter first. If you let Shawnrik and Olivia enter first and then you enter, the boys will take all of their feelings of impotence that Shawnrik will make them feel out on you. On the other hand, if you go in first they’ll feel angry for a moment but then forget all about it, at least for a little while, when this imposing hunk of meat enters the room.”
“Great, then they’ll all be mad at me, right?” Shawnrik sighed.
“Yes.” Isaac poked him. “Hold still. But they are going to hate you anyway. Hate you, and want to be you. Hell, some of them might want to be with you.” He laughed as the boy’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, to be young again.”
The room was silent for the next few minutes, the only sounds made by the scissors that each of the employees carried around.
“Alright, we should have it ready by next week. Come in next Eightday to pick it up, and we’ll make sure everything is perfect.” Isaac turned to Verrian. “Alright young man, your turn.”
Chapter 21
Gathering
Year: 3045 AGD
Month: Midwinter
Fourth Secondday
Death’s Edge Forest
As they entered the area where the gathering was to take place, the boy could feel something in the air that made his hair tingle. Three males nearly as large as Dauntless stepped out of the trees, making the group stop. The feeling intensified as the two groups stared at each other. He felt like he could almost hear what was being sent between the two groups, but it was just out of his reach. Attempting to focus his concentration on the feeling, he closed his eyes and pushed his thoughts into the sensation.
…we are having a gathering about interlopers, and you bring another with you? The voice was unfamiliar to him, so he assumed it was from one of the males.
Bellicose… Another unfamiliar voice tried to cut in, but was interrupted by the first.
No, this is ridiculous…
Bellicose!
What?
He’s listening.
Rubbish, outsiders can’t…
Everything went silent for a few moments, and the boy opened one of his eyes and saw that everyone in the clearing was looking at him. Um… Sorry. He sent before breaking off his concentration.
He saw the three male’s eyes go wide and Troublefinder hopped in the air.
You can do it too!? Troublefinder had gotten better at it over the last few days and no longer needed to stop to send his thoughts.
I had wondered if you would be able to when we reached the Nexus, but I didn’t expect it to happen this soon, Relentless sent.
You thought he’d be able to do this? Dauntless sounded a little hurt that she hadn’t shared her hunch with him.
It was only a theory based on how he interacted with the beast. I believe if it weren’t for the fettering he wears he would have done so before now.
Come, this is another issue for the gathering, the middle male who the boy thought must be Bellicose sent.
They made their way through the circle of trees, and what the boy saw made him stop in his tracks. Up above the trees, two bright flowing lines intersected; where they met a giant ball of flowing particles had formed. The bottom of the ball of particles floated about thirty feet in front of him, but ten feet above where he currently stood. Under the ball, the ground had been carved out into a perfectly circular amphitheater, which was currently occupied by dozens of Quaelyne. The notable exceptions to this were two bipedal forms at the very center of the amphitheater.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispered.
Yes it is, Relentless sent. You know your people have only been able to see them for a few thousand years now.
“Really?” He asked, unable to take his eyes away from the swirling pattern of particles.
Indeed. At least, those of your people who weren’t members of what your people call the Newcomers.
They stepped onto the top edge of the amphitheater and most of those assembled looked in their direction. The larger of the two bipeds was leaning heavily on a large tree branch and talking to a pure black Quaelyne who, judging by its size, was female. The other man looked up to see what the Quaelyne were looking at and his jaw dropped open.
“Victor?” the man said, running up the slope. “Thank Terra.”
It was the first name that had felt even remotely familiar, and yet he knew deep down that even if that was who he had been it wasn’t who he was any longer.
“Was…was that my name?” he asked the man.
“Oh no,” the man said, coming to a stop, his breath heavy. “What did they do to you?”
The boy has a block in his mind that is keeping all that made him this Victor locked away. Dauntless sent. There is hope that it can be broken down in time, but he is no longer the boy you knew.
The man stepped up the slope and stood in front of
the boy before taking a knee.
“My name is Warren.” He pointed down the hill. “That is Trenton. We were members of a squad, and you traveled with us for a time.”
“Hello Warren,” the boy said. “I would like to hear about it, but perhaps this is not the time or place.”
“Right you are, wouldn’t want to mess up the whole 'we might kill you' vibe.” Warren winked and turned back down towards the center of the gathering.
As he turned to move back down the dirt path, Warren stumbled slightly before catching his balance. “Damn Dracairei, whatever it is that they use on their arrows is nasty stuff.”
“You fought the Dracairei?”
“Yeah,” Warren said as the group began to walk down the long dirt path. “You could say that. We got jumped outside of Verge by a dozen of the bastards. Trenton took half dozen arrows, and I took one in my lower leg as I went to help him. The fight was over in less than a minute. It took every ounce of will I could muster to hide us from the Dracairei. I almost passed out before they had given up. When I came to, we were surrounded by these kind beings.”
“Hello Victor,” the man Warren had identified as Trenton said as they neared the center, a big smile on his face.
“Apparently he doesn’t remember us, my friend.”
The smile dropped. “What did they do to you?” Trenton clenched his fists, but a wracking cough tore through his body a moment later, causing him to double over.
“I’ve been doing everything I can to heal us, but whatever those arrows were tipped with has messed with our bodies pretty bad.” Warren helped Trenton stand back up after the episode passed. “I should be okay sometime in the next few Eightdays, but Trenton is going to need several months to recuperate, maybe less if we can get him back to some healers that know what they are doing.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen with Elandria and Rundig still in the hands of those assassins,” Trenton said. “I sure wish you were yourself, Vic, things started going bad right after you took off. Now there are only six of us left, and four of us aren’t even fit for combat. Nim is stuck in Asylum, and Stewart could show up in Verge at any moment without hope of backup beyond the twins. I’ve been trying to get these Wolverine’s to help him, but they seem to think our not being able to protect our Princess is an internal matter.”
Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) Page 32