Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2)

by D. H. Aire

  “I haven’t.”

  “Did you fly then?” he chuckled.

  “Something like that.”

  “You must have quite the gift.”

  “I scry, Milord.”

  “Then you belong in a Tower somewhere.”

  “I’m one of the Consecrated.”

  Hynrik stopped as he was about to pour more tea.

  “Do tell,” Talik said, calling up a ward in his mind.

  “I mean you no harm. I can prove it, if you’d like.”

  “How?”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Oh, this should be good. Fine, scry the Provincial Capital. Tell me how… how my friend, Galt, is doing.”

  “Galt’s a Faeryn mage?”

  He smiled thinly. “Yes.”

  Amira nodded as Hynrik moved to bring her a bowl. “Will tea do as well as water, Milady?”

  “I need neither. Lord Talik, please don’t be alarmed. You see, I need to bathe in water to scry.”

  His eyes widened. He knew there was such a technique, but doubted the girl would bathe in front of them. “I’ve a tub in the back room.”

  She shook her head, “Uh, I’ve a different technique. Please do not be alarmed.”

  “What?” Talik muttered, then the young elfblooded woman’s clothes seemed to turn fluid.

  Her gaze went unfocused and she muttered, “Galt, Faeryn mage, in Lyai… Yes, I see him. He is… haggling over the price of kitchen stasis boxes with an old merchant. He’s showing them the Faeryn craftsman mark. ‘One hundred golds, no less,’” she said in Galt’s voice, unlike anything she’d done before. “‘Please, Master Galt, that’s more than the Guild’s price.’” She took a deep breath, “’Then buy from the Guild, Master Ian.’ ‘I’ll make no profit doing that! Everyone in the city’s demanding Faeryn work. I’m losing money trying to sell their wretched lot. Oh, fine, one hundred golds each. Now let’s talk about them bed warmers, there.’”

  Hynrik whispered, “Either she’s met both Galt and Master Ian or she’s the best act I ever seen, Milord.”

  “What wards has he about him?”

  Amira canted her head, held out her hand for a quill pen. The mage offered ink and paper. She drew. Describe the room. She did, and missed not a single ward’s sigil, which should have prevented her sight. Business was business and scrying could be close to spying. But among a Consecrated scryer’s gifts was the ability to seek any weakness in wards.

  One thing he could not deny, the fluid swirling around her body was like nothing he had ever seen… yet, he remembered reading something of the sort but that – that was ancient magic and required, well, knowledge long lost.

  “All right, I believe you. Now, why are you here?”

  The fluid solidified and he found her clothed in elvin mail with the sigil of Niota emblazoned upon it. Amira took deep breaths, “The Empire’s been betrayed. Niota is under attack –– by an army.”

  Saving Niota

  Chapter 44

  “Now what’s a fine lady like ya’self doin’ in the middle of nowhere, Milady?” the Sergeant asked.

  “Niota’s under attack. They need your legionnaires.”

  He and his men laughed. “Right, Milady.”

  She pulled from her pockets the charms. “Hmm, the runes on these say they’re for an unmolested night’s sleep. Problem with bedbugs, Sergeant? Or perhaps, hmm, a better time with the ladies, is what this one promises.”

  “Where did you get those?”

  “Oh, here and there, Sergeant… But you and your men can have them all; just pay a brief visit to Niota.”

  “Niota has a permanent detachment of hundreds, Milady,” the Sergeant replied, shaking his head. “We’ve our orders.”

  Esperanza frowned, “When was the last time you ever spoke to anyone from Niota’s detachment?”

  “Meself, hmm, I don’t recall.”

  “That’s because you’ve been deceived. Niota doesn’t have a detachment. I’ve scried it! They are getting some unlikely reinforcements, but the keep needs soldiers – your soldiers, Sergeant and if I’m wrong, what will a few more days mean to the Legion?”

  She held the charms out and smiled.

  The Sergeant glanced back at his men and said, “I hate bugs. Course, I like the ladies.”

  Esperanza nodded, “I’ll have need of a horse.”

  “Milady, you’re not coming with us?”

  “No, I’ve got to warn the Lyai. We’ll need more than your thirty legionnaires before this matter is done.” She gave over the charms as they lent her a horse. She mounted, and her clothing changed to elvin

  chainmail.

  The Sergeant stared as she rode off like something out of legend. “Well, lads, you heard the lady! Things are amiss in Niota, so we’ve business to be about!”

  “Walsh! Over there!”

  At Thomi’s yell the ogre heaved another rock from his pile that had to weigh fifty stone. It sailed across the battlement and struck the soldier who had climbed the rope on the hook. The man screamed as he was sent sailing clear and plummeted from the escarpment cliff.

  Walsh raced over and grabbed the hook. Lifting it high, feeling the weight of other soldiers clinging to it, he cast it away. Men screamed as they fell. The ogre then sat down heavily, exhausted.

  “Walsh,” Thomi said.

  Breathing heavily, the ogre heard a sound. The Imperial Gate behind them opened by itself and ogres strode forth. The refugees that called Niota home backed away and stared. A dozen ogres came into the courtyard and looked about them at the keep that gleamed like new.

  As one the ogres looked at Thomi in his elvin chainmail, then bowed.

  “Bout –– time,” Walsh rasped.

  An older ogre looked at him and laughed. A moment later the dozen manned the battlements and were throwing massive stones, striking targets a great distance down the none too wide path up the escarpment. There were cries and screams as the attackers struggled to flee.

  Thomi gestured and Walsh slowly rose and went back inside the keep. Exhausted, the ogre lay down on the blankets, which lately served as his bed. He closed his eyes and began snoring so loudly the windows shook.

  Small children giggled as Thomi went back to the door. That’s when a long white–haired, somewhat matronly looking ogre entered followed by several rather small ogres.

  He hurried to greet them – and to keep the peace as he wondered just how many ogres Niota truly could now claim. But, Milord!”

  “I’ll be fine, Hynrik!”

  “But if what she says is true, you’re going into the teeth of an invasion, alone, but for her!” Hynrik warned.

  Archmage Talik, wanted for treason, laughed, “But the lady’s told us

  we’ve ogres for help.”

  “And thirty legionnaires, who should reach Niota before us,” Amira added, helpfully.

  Talik nodded, “And a whole thirty legionnaires. So, be a good fellow and slip back into the city and get me every Faeryn mage that can be spared. Let my honored cousin trust to his Academy approved mages!”

  The old man shook his head, “If you get yourself killed, I’ll kill you!”

  “Lot of sense that makes,” Talik said, chuckling, offering his arm to the lovely young elvin woman.

  She climbed behind him on his mount, her elvin mail gleaming in sudden sunlight.

  “Hold tight, lass.”

  She did.

  They rode hard.

  “Sergeant! Slow down!”

  “Keep up, lads!” he shouted.

  “But, Sir, you can’t believe…”

  He glanced back. “Lads, best learn now, follow orders!”

  “But you’re not!”

  He laughed, “Officer material, eh?” The horses kept the pace. The Sergeant figured they could rest once they got to Niota, particularly if this was all that girl’s fancy. Then again, she was a lovely elvin lass. Perhaps the charm would even work with her.

  ‘She’s out of you
r league, Sergeant.’

  His eyes grew wide, “Who said that?”

  “Who said what, Sarge?”

  “Nothing. Never mind… I’m losing my bloomin’ mind, is what.”

  ‘Hurry, Sergeant.’

  He glanced at the charms in the pouch, “By the Empress, one of you talking to me.”

  ‘Yes, Sergeant… and Niota will desperately need your aid come the dawn, so do not stop for anything.’

  “Wonderful.”

  #

  There was a clash of swords and screams when Walsh woke with a start. “What?”

  A little girl was pulling on his arm, “Oh, thank goodness you’re awake. Lord Thomi needs your help!”

  Walsh hurried from the keep as torches lit the courtyard. An ogre youngling leapt across the battlement with a battle cry. Another raced past him and tossed a club up to the old ogre, who had greeted him earlier.

  A crossbow bolt whizzed past him. An ogre cried out as he was struck. He plucked the bolt out and charged the soldier who had reached the safety of the battlement. Well, relative safety. The ogre plucked the man up and dropped him on the fellows scaling the wall.

  Thomi glanced back and shouted, “Walsh, glad you can join the party!”

  A scaling hook landed behind him. Walsh sighed. It was going to be a long night.

  Vision

  Chapter 45

  Esperanza had not been trained as a rider. The enchantment in the mail she wore was cushioning her bottom; although, she was still sore.

  Hungry, she paused by a stream and let her mount drink and rest. She knew she was mad. What was she thinking? I’m no one. Why will the Lyai even listen to me?

  ‘Why would he not?’

  She looked about, knowing that voice. “You’re following me?”

  ‘In a manner of speaking… You are… interesting. Much has happened these many centuries.’

  “In that tomb you brought Amira and me to, you said you were a ghost.”

  ‘You would not understand… Much has been forgotten. What I am is, well, best described as being a ghost.’

  “Are you scrying me?”

  ‘I have no need to “scry” as you call it now.’

  “Just how old are you?”

  ‘Youngling, I am older than you can imagine. And, I am interested in you because, well, I believe you can lead me to answers.’

  “You need answers?”

  ‘Yes, and the other one belongs to Niota –– leaving you for me.’

  “I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”

  She heard something akin to a chuckle. ‘You are wise, who would have guessed?’ There was a long pause. Water bubbled, began to boil. Her horse shied away. ‘I hope you like fish.’

  “Huh?”

  ‘Forgive me, I like to cook.’ She heard that odd laughter, then found herself laughing.

  She looked around for vegetables, not wanting to waste the boiling water.

  All in all, she thought later, it was a delicious dinner. She curled up and fell asleep and dreamed.

  In the Crescent Lands, north of Edous, Fenn du Blain’s Gwedian Regulars and his Trelorian levies camped at the edge of what was burning town, which served as a pyre for the Edous troops they had captured. They had managed to delay Fenn du Blain’s Gwedian Regulars and Trelorian levies as refugees fled Edous, straining the city-state’s resources.

  The Trelorian messenger cringed as he came before Lord Fenn in his expansive and partitioned command tent, surrounded by a half dozen men of his Gwedian Guard.

  He barely began his report, when Fenn raised his hand and asked in a tightly controlled voice, “What do you mean Niota was barred?”

  “Milord, the Keep’s walls were well-defended. The Colonel ordered an attack, though, the path up the escarpment is not particularly wide…”

  “Defended by whom?” Fenn asked, staring at him.

  “Scores of ogres by all reports, Milord. They dropped stones, very large ones,” he said carefully, not wanting to admit that they had only glimpsed one for the longest time.

  “Ogres? Ogres? Not Imperial troops?”

  “We saw no troops, though, there were definitely human defenders.”

  “So, your Colonel dealt with them.”

  “Uh, not exactly, he died in your service, Milord,” he replied, trying not to recall seeing him topple off the winding path up to the top of the escarpment. The large stone following him as he screamed. “The Captain took charge, Sir.”

  “We took the Keep, yes?”

  He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No, Milord… we lost many men in the assault and the Captain order a temporary retreat.”

  “And he sent you to tell me of this failure?”

  “I… I was sent to ask for scaling ladders and additional troops, so we might successfully assault and take the Keep, Milord.”

  Fenn du Blain nodded. “Very well, scaling ladders,” glancing at one of his guards, “and some additional aid your Captain shall have.”

  “Uh, thank you, Milord,” he replied in relief.

  Fenn glanced at his nearest guard. “Somehow, I think this fine fellow must have displeased his Captain. See that he proves useful.”

  The Guard smiled, dropping the illusion of his humanity, uttering a word of power. The messenger tried to escape, but found he could not move. He tried to scream as they goblin mage dragged him behind the fabric partition. His sudden cries, then screams soothed Fenn’s rage.

  “We must take that Keep, Fenn,” one of his illusioned guards said.

  “Since one of your ilk has apparently failed, you can deal with it,” Fenn replied. “I’ve Edous to besiege.”

  The following day the Trelorians soldiers began their climb again of the old Imperial Road to the top of the escarpment with the ladders and additional troops under the command of one of Fenn’s fearsome looking personal guards.

  “Once ready your troops will assault Niota under the cover of darkness,” the guard told the Captain as he drew the head of the messenger from a sack. “Or die trying.”

  “We shall not fail Lord Fenn, Milord,” the Captain replied.

  “See your men understand that.”

  An exhausted Thomi was roused by the cry from the west gate. He wasn’t the only one. The ogres paused, setting aside the prodigious amount of food they were consuming. Walsh staggered back into position. Three female ogres and four children readied themselves as three exhausted males struggled to rise.

  The sound of horses’ hooves abruptly filled the courtyard as the Imperial Gate opened wide. Legionnaires rode into the main courtyard and stared. There was splattered blood, several bodies of soldiers dressed in Trelorian colors, and wounded raggedly dressed humans standing about who had taken arms for the defense.

  Thomi turned.

  “Ahem,” the Sergeant said, “uh, Milord, the lady said you needed help and apparently was not kidding. Men, to the battlements!”

  The ogres eyed the legionnaires, who quickly dismounted and rushed to man the walls as they drew recurve bows. Seeing the climbing Trelorians, they let fly as they had trained.

  There were cries.

  The Sergeant came up to the boy in elvin chainmail with Niota’s sigil. “A little young to be lord, Sir, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t feel so young anymore, Sergeant.”

  “Get some sleep, we’ll need you for the next assault or the one after… thank the Empress that the boys slept in the saddle much of the time.”

  “See to the Legionnaires mounts,” Thomi said to one of the older refugees, who nodded, gesturing for assistance to his fellows as he did as he was bid.

  “That’s gracious of you, Milord… Uh, Lord Niota.”

  The boy headed back down from the battlements.

  “Empress help us; that boy’s not even a bloomin’ elf,” the Sergeant muttered, then saw the action getting lively. “HEY! PUSH THEM, SO THEY TAKE THE LADDERS WITH THEM!”

  His boys let fly and kicked those nearly upon them
. There were screams as ladders fell. “NOW THAT’S MORE LIKE IT, LADS!”

  Walsh woke.

  NI–O–TA was singing. Every ogre of its lineage was here now. He

  glanced at the sleeping Thomi. He looked like a boy, but he wasn’t

  any longer. He was Lord Niota now. He had fought to defend this place, led into battle even the untrained humans, who had taken refuge here over the years, who had been trapped here.

  The floor upon which the boy lay had reshaped itself for Thomi’s comfort.

  The ogre shook his head. The Trelorians were retreating for now. But they would be back and next time it would be worse.

  ‘Oh, help is coming.’

  Walsh looked about him, “Who?”

  The voice laughed and took his question literally, ‘Niota has chosen a wife for your nice young man – and she is bringing a friend, who, well, knows the right kind of people.’

  Walsh frowned and muttered, “I –– know –– that –– voice.”

  ‘Why, you actually remember me? How delightful? I guess cursing you for eternity has some advantages after all.’

  Shaking his head, Walsh almost remembered. But it was so hard. So long

  ago he had been human, many lifetimes ago in service of Niota. So long ago since he had been a spacer and had gone to war to save their lost colony.

  NI–O–TA intervened.

  ‘So, my dear, I shall not disturb your pet further. You know where to find me if you need anything.’ He laughed.

  NI–O–TA made her displeasure known. It may not be alive but it could feel pain, apparently.

  ‘No need to get huffy… I am going!’

  Nagging Vision, Nagging Doubt

  Chapter 46

  It watched Esperanza. The elfblooded woman was persistent. Her horse had gone lame and, though she was not a healer, she still did her best for the poor creature. But it was to no avail. She would have to walk the rest of the way.

  ‘This was taking too long. No fun at all.’ He looked around for someone suitable in the city. Ah, there they were – the pair that had broken his ward – and that fascinating staff. It stood beside the bed glowing. He probed around it. It kept him out, but was not emanating magic.