Mad Mage_Claire-Agon Ranger

by Salvador Mercer

  “Yes, though there is nothing wrong with being mortal on the same scale as most Agonians,” Elister explained further. “However, I had new responsibilities, and despite being kept to this one area, it was a key area, one that needed me and my services, so I stayed.”

  “What about now?” Targon asked.

  “Now it is different,” Elister said, turning to face the Ulathans further away and easing his stance toward the young woodsman. “I am dead now, and only a combination of power from the Mother and the Dark Queen allows me to linger for a bit longer.”

  “You speak as if you will leave us soon,” Targon said, a tinge of panic in his voice. Though he didn’t want to admit it, the old man had quickly taken on a major role for the Ulathans, and life without him seemed impossible, unbearable even.

  “Your concern for me is touching,” Elister said. “I wish we could have had more time together, but alas, we find ourselves rushing to accomplish too much. You see”—at this, he did turn his head to look at Targon again—“if I leave the forest now, I will be no more. What you see would be ash and dust on the wind, and my spirit would vacate this world. For this reason, I can no longer accompany you to Kesh, though I would gladly give up all my power if I could do this one thing and help you find your mother.”

  Targon stood pensively and thought about the druid’s words. He finally came to the realization that Elister would have left to help his mother had he not perished in the battle with the Kesh Arch-Mage earlier that spring. Though he did not understand the metaphysical powers of this world, he could certainly appreciate the tangible effects they had on his life and the lives of those he cared for. With a stoic determination, he made his own vow. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me, and not just to save my mother.”

  Elister smiled. “Agon knows her children better than any wise man ever could. You bring me joy, though I hate the idea that I must put you in harm’s way so often.”

  “Don’t worry on such things,” Targon said. “You seem to have a plan?”

  “I’ve been contemplating how best to deal with the hand we’ve been dealt. When I thought I saw a path for us, the latest events changed that. Now I fear we must take a riskier road, one that is fraught with peril, danger, and temptation, but also one with greater reward and opportunity. Luck favors the bold.”

  “Wise words.”

  “They were from someone else, but I like them nonetheless.” Elister looked up as if searching for something.

  “Argyll?”

  “Yes, he’s coming, I hear him even now. He’ll be here soon with news that I need in order to put things into motion.”

  “So you don’t want to hear of my activities in Kesh with Khan the last fortnight?”

  “No, they are inconsequential.”

  “Have we been wasting our time, then?” Targon lowered his tone.

  “No, your actions have caused the Kesh great consternation and even fear. Something that, up till now, they only received from their ruling magic-users. It is good for us that they fear something else. This will factor into how they react when things really get busy.”

  “We’ve been raiding for months, and I’ve been cutting down every Kesh I can find. Do you not call that busy?”

  “Almost every Kesh,” Elister said.

  Targon eyed the old man with interest. Suspicion was too harsh a word to use at this time. “Did Khan tell you?”

  “No, your clothes and axe told me. You have little blood on them, and I know you came here straight away. Your hair is dirty and you stink to high heaven, so I know you’ve not bathed since you’ve last battled.”

  Targon rubbed a hand through his hair and then pressed both hands against his tunic to straighten it out, even taking a hardly perceptible sniff when he titled his head downward and slightly to the side. “You jest.”

  “No, you do stink, trust me, and Agatha will say so soon enough. I’m quite surprised they haven’t noticed yet.”

  “We are downwind from them,” Targon explained. “Also, I heard no complaint from Khan as we traveled.”

  “Khan most likely smells too,” Elister said, not using the correct grammatical term to describe the Kesh as having an odor.

  “I heard no complaint from the other Ulathans,” Targon said, a tinge of victory in his voice.

  “Hmm,” Elister said, seeking to counter the young Ranger. “Was Horace upwind of you or downwind? Actually, was he even close to you when you returned?”

  “No, and he was also upwind.”

  “Who greeted you when you arrived?” Elister pressed.

  “Will,” Targon said. “Ah, and Emelda.”

  “Aha,” Elister said with a tone of finality. “I rest my case. Neither of them would tell you so. Indeed, I await Agatha’s verdict on your judgement.”

  “Well, that won’t happen,” Targon said with determination. “I’ll have my bath before I cross words with the woman.”

  “See, you are becoming wiser by the day,” Elister said. The tone of jest was a welcome change from his recent serious and moody demeanor, or so Targon thought.

  “We will discuss our plans soon, then, if not now?”

  “Correct,” Elister said. “I need to hear from Argyll first, and then we need to discuss this as a group, because what I will ask of you, I will ask of several others, and there is a very good chance that my request will result in the deaths of some, if not all of you.”

  “I preferred your good-natured humor.”

  “As do I,” Elister agreed. “However, my duty is to prepare you all for what is about to come.”

  “Understood,” Targon said, falling silent for a moment before asking his next question. “Ah, any news on the . . . lady?”

  Elister nodded, understanding that Targon was concerned for her after her emotional but brief rendezvous with her husband months ago in Korwell. “She cuts the Kesh down with a vengeance, much the same as you did. At least, any who leave the safety of Korwell’s walls.”

  “She insists on maintaining her watch, then?” Targon asked.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  Targon nodded. “Of course, but she seldom spends time with her son.” Targon motioned with his head toward Karz.

  “And some say you seldom spend time with your sister.”

  “Who would say such a thing?” Targon sounded defensive.

  “Put that attitude away,” Elister ordered.” No one is questioning your quest or desire to save your mother, and neither should you do the same for Salina and her husband.”

  Targon nodded and accepted his chastisement. “I only worry for her emotional state and the welfare of her children.”

  “As do we all,” Elister agreed. “Now more than ever, we’ll have to pull together to save not only each other but humanity as we know it. Don’t fret, she’ll come to my council once I put Argyll to watch on Korwell.”

  “I thought you did that already,”

  “I did for short periods of time, not enough to allow her to leave, and it was too soon anyway. She would not abandon her watch, and her hope, so soon after learning that her soulmate was alive.”

  “I understand,” Targon simply said.

  “We will know much more soon, and then we will make our final plans and put into motion our own gambit. In the meantime, I’ll need to pen a quick note for Argyll to take to the lady and her son.”

  “What will you message her?” Targon asked, turning to face the faint sound of someone approaching from the direction of his cabin. “What is he doing?”

  Elister didn’t bother to turn and look at the new arrival. “Khan will assist you in saving The Lady Salina and her son.”

  “Save them from what?” Targon asked, turning his head at Elister.

  “Her patience grows thin, and she’s still filled with anger and sorrow. I have foreseen that she will do something rash and put her life, as well as her son Cedric, in danger.”

  Targon almost couldn’t keep his lower jaw closed. “You can read her mind?”

/>   Elister showed the faint wisps of a smile at the corner of his mouth despite being petrified. “Partially. The real divination came from Argyll, who informed me that the Kesh have sent out more than one special patrol to bait and trap her, so I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  Targon shook his head. “No disappointment. How much time do we have?”

  “Very little. You’ll both need to leave now and run all day to intercept them on the road. I’ll try to notify Salina of the trap, but she may move positions, and if the Kesh reach her before Argyll does, it may go poorly for them.”

  The two men waited till Khan arrived, saying formally, “Marissa informed me that you wanted to see me, Master Druid?”

  “Yes, but no time to spare. Follow Targon, and he’ll fill you in on the details. Are you still able to locate your bodyguard?” Elister asked.

  “You mean Dorsun?” Khan asked in return.

  “Yes, Dorsun,” Elister stated.

  “You are correct. I still have my spell of locative divination active at this time for Dorsun,” Khan said, looking first to Elister and then to Targon.

  Elister motioned for them to leave and spoke to Targon. “Go now, then. Let Khan lead you if Argyll fails to find your companions. You’ll have to risk the rope fiord.”

  Targon nodded and turned to leave, and then hesitated, asking one last question. “What do you intend to say to The Lady Salina?”

  Elister spoke swiftly. “I will inform her that her husband is alive, if that’s the latest information that I receive from Argyll, and that if she wants to keep him that way, she’ll need to trust me and take a more dangerous path, one that risks much but could also gain much.”

  “I’m not so sure I like your tone,” Targon replied.

  “Neither do I,” Elister said. “Neither do I.”

  Chapter 5

  Salina

  “Shall I take watch?” Dorsun asked, his voice low and his facial features all but obscured in the dark cloak that he had wrapped himself in to ward off the cool fall wind that blew in from the northwest.

  Lady Salina took one long look at Korwell from the high ridgeline that they had used as one of three observation points. She motioned for the former Kesh brigand to have a seat in the side of the tree next to her. They had learned that they were impossible to spot unless someone was very close by, but they could easily see the walls of the city and the brigands who marched along its parapets, guarding the castle. “I’ll watch for a bit longer, but you’re welcome to sit and get comfortable.”

  Dorsun did so, keeping himself bundled up, as the wind was cooler and brisker on the ridgeline where they were exposed to it. The nearby bushes and other scraggily trees did little to stop the wind, though they were great at breaking up their form and silhouette from any scouts looking in their direction from the city. “Have you heard from the old man?” he asked, referring to Elister.

  “I did while you were sleeping,” Salina said. “He is going to insist that we leave and come to his meeting once Targon and Khan return from their latest foray.”

  “You do not seem to approve,” Dorsun stated.

  “Does it matter?” Salina said, a hinge of impatience in her voice.

  “It may be important, not just to you but to your sons and the rest of your fellow Ulathans as well.” Dorsun didn’t mince words, and he also didn’t include himself ever in the group, taking it upon himself to ostracize his social membership with the refugees as a sort of self-imposed restitution for what he had done.

  It did not go unnoticed by Salina. “You can relax now,” she began. “We don’t blame you for what happened, and in fact, your actions have more than made up for whatever sins you feel you’ve done in the past.”

  Dorsun didn’t make eye contact with her, preferring to watch the city far below them. “Perhaps, but you don’t know what I’ve done, so it would be difficult for you to forgive me so.”

  “I won’t look too far into the past. That life and that part of all of us came to an end this year. Only the future matters now, and to be quite frank with you, I consider myself lucky in that all my family members are alive, for now.”

  Dorsun grunted in agreement, and then said, “Your man fought well, from what I heard from my master. You should be proud of him.”

  “I am,” Salina noted, taking a rare moment to look back at the tight grouping of bushes where they had their makeshift camp. Cedric was still asleep there, having kept watch prior to her shift. Salina made sure that one of them was watching at all times, not that she didn’t trust the Kesh, but she knew Cedric would do this for his father, and it was the only way for her to be sure.

  Dorsun noted the attention on her son. “He’s also come a long way this summer. Both of you should be proud of him as well.”

  “His father would be, if he could see him now,” Salina said, looking back toward the castle as if searching for her husband. “Bran always chided Cedric for spending too much time in his studies and not enough at swordplay.”

  “Well, he’s more than lethal now with his blades, if not a sword. I think that would count even for the captain of Korwell.”

  Salina nodded. “He hasn’t given up his love of books, either.”

  “No, he spends a lot of time reading the ones he has,” Dorsun noted. “Damn near spent every candle you have on the effort.”

  “Then the candles were well burned,” Salina said, satisfaction in her voice. “What is that there?”

  Dorsun strained to look past the setting sun, which always was the worse time of day to observe Korwell. “Where, north or south of town?”

  “Slightly south, near the old culverts that Will had taken us through.”

  Dorsun put his hand to his forehead and squinted while blocking out the setting sun. “That looks like a patrol, except different.”

  “They don’t look like Kesh,” Salina said, watching as the small group came out at a trot and started to run north toward the main road to Kesh.

  “They’re not. They look to be Balarians by their garb, though it’s difficult to see them from here,” Dorsun said. “Is that a prisoner they have with them?”

  Salina started to shift her position to a crouch from her sitting, preparing to vacate her observation point. “That appears very much to be someone struggling in chains and being forced to run with them. They look to be heading toward the main road.”

  Dorsun likewise took to a more-active, prepared stance. “I think it’s time to wake your son.”

  Salina nodded. “I agree.” She almost panicked for a moment when they lost sight of the small group as it weaved its way through the abandoned buildings of the town. They reappeared on the north end and then disappeared again along the western side of the road’s berm before finally revealing only the top of their heads as they appeared to be trying to leave the castle and town undetected.

  Dorsun took a moment longer to assess the group before stating, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to intercept them without further assistance from your group.”

  Salina ran back toward the brushes to wake Cedric, who was already rousing himself, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. She asked a quick question of Dorsun as the man arrived next to her. “Why not?”

  Dorsun didn’t hesitate. “This group looks deadly. I think my former masters have called up special assets to deal with us after the attack on Korwell.”

  “Well, it took them long enough,” Salina said. “Besides, you don’t think I will watch them escort my husband out of our homeland and take him to Kesh to be either executed or enslaved, do you? This is what we’ve been waiting months for.”

  “What?” Cedric said, jumping up and grabbing his things to put in his pack. “Did you see Father?”

  Dorsun shook his head, but Salina responded, “I think so, but there’s only one way to be sure.”

  The trio grabbed their gear and prepared to head out. From their vantage point, it was a very long way to Korwell, perhaps over half a league, and even if the
y screamed at the top of their lungs, they would not be heard by anyone in the city. The sun was preparing to set, and once all their gear was stowed, Salina motioned for them to also head north, paralleling the band of Balarians but staying undetected by keeping most of the ridge between them and the probing eyes of their enemy.

  Cedric noticed the look on the Kesh man’s face. “What is it, Dorsun?”

  “Something’s not right,” he said, though he continued to follow Salina’s lead.

  “What’s not right is them taking my husband in the first place, or even entering Ulatha without permission,” Salina said, seeking to keep her resolve in the face of Dorsun’s objection. Curiosity got the better of her, and she allowed the man to reach her side as they moved at a brisk pace. “What do you think is wrong?”

  Dorsun kept moving but frowned, and his expression indicated sorrow for her plight as well. “I am Kesh still, and despite the nature of our common caste, our leadership, and especially our masters, are cunning, devious even. I find it too . . . convenient that after all this time, we spot what appears to be your husband being spirited out of the stronghold.”

  Salina nodded but didn’t respond to Dorsun’s concerns right away. She was still focused on making up some ground on the enemy party to ensure they didn’t lose them in the quickly approaching dusk. Without stopping, she said over her shoulder, “If you’re right, then we avoid a trap. However, if you’re wrong, then this could mean the end to my husband and the father of my children. Even if this is some sort of trap, I must find out for sure. You have to be able to understand at least this much of our culture.”

  Dorsun took a second to look at Cedric, who had a grim and determined look on his face. “Fine,” Dorsun began, “but perhaps we could approach them first with the goal of finding out if this is Captain Moross or not.”

  “I could live with that,” Salina said, looking around the dark purple sky to the east for any sign of the druid’s messenger bird. One look to the west showed the sun finally setting and the various orange hues that would soon give way to the inky black of night. She did not slow her pace.