Magic, Myth & Majesty: 7 Fantasy Novels

by David Dalglish

  “How is that possible?” Cyrus looked at her in disbelief.

  She shrugged. “Commerce is a dirty practice in Pharesia and that attitude radiates to the towns and villages of the kingdom. Only a lower-born would be a merchant while being high born or royalty is exalted above all else.” She looked Cyrus in the eyes. “When you demonize the merchants that bring your society prosperity and consider those who engage in it to be sneaky or criminal, you create a society where people want to be royalty and nobody wants to do the uncouth work that allow the royalty to survive.”

  Cyrus exchanged a look with Narstron. “They actually consider merchant work to be dirty in the Elven Kingdom?”

  “Low status work,” Nyad corrected. “Merchants are like kings in Termina because there is no status barrier, money is exalted. Everything is for sale in Termina, and royalty and merchant are equal, and the same goes for offlanders. As long as you have money, anything is negotiable.”

  “It sounds dramatically different from Pharesia,” Cyrus said.

  “It is. About a tenth of the population of Termina is non-elves, and their,” she coughed again, seemingly her way of covering a somewhat embarrassing statement, “foreign ways have tremendous influence on the mostly younger and impressionable elven population of Termina.”

  A roar sounded as two titans charged into the clearing and looked upon the party with outrage. “More intruders!” one of them bellowed.

  Niamh was hovering (How does she do that? Cyrus wondered) overhead and suddenly dark bolts were flying from her hands, lightning coursing through the titans.

  Cyrus darted into the battle. The titan before him was within his reach when it veered toward its comrade. The second titan assumed a defensive posture and blocked a sword-swipe, barely keeping it from removing his arm. A burst of fire bowled him over and consumed him. Cy started to alter course toward the one that had attacked his fellow but it was strangely still. The titan’s eyes were fixed and unmoving, staring straight ahead.

  “Whaddya think, Curatio?” piped the gnome standing in the group with him. “Can I keep him?”

  The elf smiled, and again it put Cyrus oddly at ease. It took him a moment to realize why. Stern was an attribute that could be assigned to most elves. They weren’t much for friendliness with outsiders. “Sure thing, J’anda.”

  The army resumed a relaxed state. Cyrus could not shake a feeling of discomfort with a titan now standing in their midst. The gnome in the circle made his way past Curatio and looked up at Cyrus expectantly. “I am J’anda Aimant.”

  Cyrus leaned down. “Forgive me; I haven’t had much contact with gnomes.”

  J’anda chortled. “What makes you think I’m a gnome?” Cyrus looked at him curiously, not sure that he’d heard J’anda correctly. Cyrus blinked and the gnome was gone, replaced by a dwarf, still wearing the same blue robe, but resized to fit the much bulkier and taller frame.

  “Uh… I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything quite like this before…” Cyrus said.

  “Ah,” J’anda replied. “Then you’ll really be impressed with this.” This time, Cyrus didn’t even blink — but the dwarf was gone and replaced with a human. Fine, delicate features graced his face. He smiled at Cyrus, and before the warrior had a chance to reply, J’anda’s ears grew and he had become an elf.

  “Now that’s impressive,” Narstron said. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen an enchanter go through that many illusions.”

  Cyrus relaxed a little. “An enchanter. That explains your ability to control the titan.”

  J’anda gave him another dazzling smile. “One of my many talents, I assure you.”

  Cyrus regarded the enchanter carefully. “What else can you do besides change your form and charm a titan to do your bidding?”

  J’anda’s same charming smile made its way across his face, “An excellent question, and one you will surely learn the answer to should you join Sanctuary. I’m not charming this titan — I’m completely bending his will to mine. I could tell him to walk down there and attack the rest of the titan guards,” J’anda indicated the path ahead, “and he would do it cheerfully. And he will,” an air of impatience filled the enchanter’s voice, “as soon as we get moving.”

  “I’ve had some experience with that recently.” Cyrus’s eyes focused on the titan captive’s. They were blank, unfocused.

  “Oh?” J’anda smiled. “Were you witnessing it or did you get your will bent?”

  “No, I didn’t get my will bent.” Cyrus remained expressionless. “But it was attempted.”

  The elf’s eyebrow went up. “You resisted?”

  Cyrus honed in on the enchanter. “Yes. Ashan’agar, the Dragonlord, tried to get me to do his bidding.”

  Both of J’anda’s eyebrows retreated upward. “My goodness. How did you escape his power?”

  A shrug. “I don’t know.”

  Whatever response J’anda might have offered was cut off by the sudden arrival of Vara. “When these giants came around the corner, they said something about ‘More intruders’. Can you find out what that means?”

  “Certainly.” J’anda nodded in accommodation. The enchanter’s eyes looked up at the titan, gazing deeply. J’anda did not move or speak for several moments, and when he broke his gaze from the titan, he was unsmiling. “Someone attacked their city last night from the southern entrance. Something was stolen. Something valuable.”

  “Any idea what?” Vara blew air impatiently out of her lips.

  “He doesn’t know,” came the enchanter’s reply. “Whatever it was, they’re not making it common knowledge.”

  “We’re ready to move,” Orion commanded the attention of the entire group. “Let’s get this excursion underway. Security is bound to be tighter than we expected if they just got hit last night, so be on guard.” He began walking backward down the path to Kortran. “Move out, Sanctuary!”

  7

  As the group began to move Cyrus tried to stick close to Orion. A flash of red made him start as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows.

  “Niamh!” Orion seemed pleased to see her. “What news from the city?”

  The elf smiled. “No more guards in the road ahead. Which is fortunate,” she raised her voice, “because this lot has all the stealth capability of a bar full of drunken trolls! We’re clear all the way to our objective,” she told the ranger with a smile. With a spell she faded back into the shadows.

  Cyrus turned his attention to Orion. “What is our objective?”

  Orion looked back at him. “How much do you know about the southern lands?”

  Cyrus shrugged as they walked forward. “I know that we’re in them, it’s damned hot, and there are riches in here somewhere.”

  Orion smirked before replying. “All true. There are three factions in the southern regions: the elves of Amti, a colony that is mostly independent of the Elven Kingdom somewhere east of the Savanna, in the Jungle of Vidara. Then there are the dragons of Hewat — you recall their former king?” The smirk grew wider. “The dragons are far south of here; the only way to get to them would be having a wizard open a portal to the wastelands, or to go through Kortran. Which brings us to the titans. Three factions, all fighting for the southern lands. The elves’ and dragons’ territory is separated by the territory of the titans, so they rarely engage in battle.”

  “Why don’t they ally?”

  The ranger shuddered. “Dragons don’t have much in the way of allies: just people they’re not at war with. Titans and dragons are a pretty good match, but the elves of Amti? They’re outnumbered and small compared to a titan or a dragon.”

  Cyrus looked around. “Pretend you’re a titan.” Orion nodded. “You had intruders last night, they steal something valuable and secret enough that your guards don’t even know what it is, but you don’t increase your security?” Cyrus looked at the ranger with disbelief on his face. “This doesn’t look like a city at war. We’re heading in and I’ve yet to see more than token resistance.”

>   “They are at war. The problem is the war doesn’t come to Kortran. I’ve heard of outposts getting attacked on all sides. But taking it to the heart of their capital? The dragons aren’t threatened enough and the giants aren’t ready for that sort of strike.

  “Hewat is south of here through fifty miles of mountain passes. Most of the titan forces are guarding those rather than worrying about attacks from the elves to the north.” The ranger wore a pitying expression. “I doubt Amti has made an offensive move against the titans in years. Their city is only standing for one reason: the titans haven’t found it yet.”

  “How do you miss an entire city of elves?” Cyrus boggled.

  Orion shrugged. “The location’s secret. You have to have an elven escort lead you there blindfolded. Back to your original question: the elves have done the only thing they can do without attacking directly. They’ve placed a bounty on the heads of the titans.” His eyes lit up. “The elves really don’t have an army, but they have money.

  “Money buys armor, weapons, things with mystical power that can bear and deal damage better.” He held up his hand to halt the army as they crested a rise. “We’re here for those bounties. We need better equipment. Mystical equipment increases the power of our spell casters magic in addition to giving more resistance to hostile spells to our fighters.”

  It had gotten so dark that Cyrus could no longer see more than a few paces in front of him. Faint lights in the distance indicated there was a city not far away. He had been following Orion, not worried about where he was going.

  He felt a hand gently grasp his arm and looked over to see J’anda, who smiled as he placed something cold in the warrior’s palm.

  Cyrus tried to bring the object closer so he could see it, but J’anda closed Cyrus’s palm firmly. A glow of blue exploded in his hand soundlessly and the sparkles of light shot up his arm to his neck. A flash of light lit the warrior’s eyes. Blinking it away he could see; the darkness had faded. “It’s an orb of lucense,” J’anda whispered. “Magical spell that conveys night vision. Thought you might like to see where you’re going,” he said with amusement.

  “Another of your mysterious powers?”

  The enchanter shrugged with a whimsical smile. “There are so many.”

  Cyrus looked back down the path and his breath caught in his throat. The city of Kortran was stretched out before him. The path diverged into an ovoid ring road that looped around both sides of the valley and rejoined at the far southern end opposite them. A path led down from the split into the city proper like a ramp into the bowl of the valley.

  The buildings were intricately carved. In fact, much of the city was carved out of the rock itself on the ground level as well as along one side of the outer ring road. The other side — what Cyrus believed was the eastern facing — had only two enormous arches that led into the mountainside, each seemingly going in different directions. Both of them had very intricate facades, carved with ornate statuary and more sophisticated in their appearance than the city’s other buildings.

  In the center of the valley, larger stone buildings dotted the cityscape sprinkled between the more common stone and mortar dwellings, most of which carried intricate woodwork.

  Niamh breathed from somewhere to his left, “I never get tired of seeing this.” Looking around, Cyrus realized that she had not faded into the shadows — her voice seemed to be coming out of thin air.

  “I’ll never get used to that,” he muttered as he shook his head.

  Niamh appeared next to him, caught his attention and smiled. “What, magic?”

  He shook his head. “Yeah. It’s not like we saw a lot of it in the Society of Arms, where I was raised.” Cyrus turned to her. “You’re a druid?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ve only known one druid. This is going to sound a little stupid,” Cyrus began. He looked around to see if anyone was looking at him. “What exactly does a druid do? I know you have power over nature…”

  “Yes, we deeply appreciate nature. The spells I cast,” she licked her lips, “tend to center on control of nature and the elements. I can cast fire or ice spells — not as powerfully as a wizard, but well enough — command water, plant life, even animals to some extent. I can summon a mystical wind that can teleport us from place to place… and a few other things.”

  Cyrus’s eyebrow shot up. “I’ve seen some of that. Useful magic, that’s for sure.”

  Niamh nodded. “The good news is you don’t have to worry about spell casters facing you in Kortran. Titans don’t have healers, or wizards or druids. They favor martial strength to the exclusion of intellectual pursuits like magic. Just like all followers of the God of War.” Scorn dripped from her words.

  Cyrus flushed. “Bellarum, the Lord of War? What’s wrong with worshiping him?”

  “Not you too?” She shivered as though something dirty had crawled on her. “I don’t exactly shy away from battle, but I’ll never understand those who worship warfare and consider it some sort of ‘spiritual experience’.”

  Cy raised an eyebrow. “Most don’t. It’s okay — I don’t understand your magic.”

  “Maybe I’ll explain more about it sometime.”

  Cyrus nodded and then realized they had been halted for nearing five minutes. He looked around for Orion, and found him whispering with Vara and Curatio. After a pause Orion signaled the army to move down the path into the city. They moved slowly, but Cyrus could see no activity in the city itself. He looked down at his feet as the texture of the path changed when they crossed onto the ring road — it was made entirely of a rich, dark wood.

  Orion beckoned them down the ramp. J’anda’s titan still walked with them, casting shadows in the light of Kortran’s lamps. The enchanter paused with his titan, holding position in the middle of the road. “Shall I guard here?” he whispered to Orion.

  “Not a bad idea in case we have to retreat,” the ranger said, turning forward again to lead the army into the heart of the city.

  They left the ring road behind them as they descended, the large buildings surrounding them. Once they reached the bottom of the ramp, they crept into the darkness of a nearby alley, sticking close to the wall for cover. They followed back alleys for a few blocks to one of the larger buildings on the outskirts.

  “Armory, maybe?” Narstron wondered, having reappeared at Cyrus’s side, startling the human.

  “Whatever it is, I guess this is where Amti’s most wanted villains hide out.” Cyrus took in the scale of the building with some surprise. They were truly enormous up close.

  It took three people to open the door. Cyrus peered into the darkness within, and felt a not-so-gentle shove. He looked over his shoulder to see Vara smiling at him mirthlessly. “After you,” she said with a bow and hand outstretched toward the door.

  Without another word, Cyrus ran into the building.

  8

  Cy took a sharp breath as he realized there was a titan in the room. It was sleeping on an oversized wooden chair in the corner. Letting out a sigh of relief, Cyrus watched it as they crept past.

  They filed into the next room. Cy caught a flicker of motion behind a chair leg, and bolted forward. He ate up the distance to the chair quickly, cutting around the edge as something burst out and slammed into his chestplate, knocking him back a step.

  Whatever had hit him dropped and rolled back, coming to rest a few paces away. When Cyrus’s gaze locked onto it, he saw it was a swarthy elf, moaning in pain and rubbing his shoulder. Orion, Vara and Narstron had been only paces behind him, and now surrounded the elf, weapons drawn.

  Holding his hands up, the elf twitched before speaking, which he did in a low, hissing voice. “Friends, I can’t thank you enough for coming for me!” Something about the elf seemed oily to Cyrus. “My name is Erart, and I have been a prisoner here for far too long.”

  Orion looked at him with undisguised skepticism. “I doubt that. Any elf in Kortran would either be dead or a traitor.”

&nb
sp; A sign of panic entered the elf’s eyes. “No! No, I swear I am a prisoner, trapped here in the city! I was scared to leave!”

  “You’re a liar.” Cyrus looked him in the eyes. He could see it, the subtle evasion as the elf avoided his stare, then relaxed before tensing every muscle in his body.

  “HELP!”

  The elf’s call caught them off guard. The next sound they heard was the tearing of cloth. Cyrus turned to see a tapestry pulled to the side, and three titans stepped out of the passage behind it. He looked back to see the door they had come through open to admit the sleeping titan plus another. Terian swept toward the titans behind them, sword already in motion.

  Orion unstrapped his bow in a split second, arrow nocked and flying a moment later. Cy had turned and charged to close the distance between himself and the titans before him. He could hear Vara and Narstron behind him as Sanctuary’s army engaged the titans to the rear. Orion’s first shot was perfect: he caught the leading titan in the eye, causing him to let out an agonized yell.

  As he dodged past the first foe, Cyrus raked his sword across the achilles tendon, causing it to topple and knock his closest following comrade backward. Dodging the two falling titans, Cyrus leapt upon them and quickly slit the second titan’s throat before he could free a hand to stop the warrior.

  The third titan emitted a roar at the death of his comrade. Glancing back, Cy saw Narstron give the half-blind titan the same treatment Cyrus had given the first. It looked like a geyser of red when he ripped out its throat. Vara looked annoyed but followed Cyrus to the third titan.

  The titan took a swipe at him designed almost as much to keep him back as to do him any harm. He feinted at the titan’s right leg, then pulled away. It fixated on him, ignoring Vara. She gracefully sidestepped and slammed her sword down on her enemy’s foot. He let out a howl of pained outrage, but before he could take a swipe at her, three things happened very quickly.