“Now to break the news to my grandmother and the others,” Lindon said. He was not looking forward to the conversation.
“What about the army? You have kind of been appointed the leader, and you don't want it to fall apart in your absence,” Aina told Lindon.
“I have been thinking of that. I think the best thing to do is gather the people that we trust from each group, organize them, tell them some of what we plan to do, and hope they will be up to the challenge.”
“My people will be, and I would imagine so would the Elves, but the worry is the humans. Who can you trust besides Arden and your grandmother?” Donovan asked.
“I think I have likely candidates in mind. We won't know until we try, but this is truly important. Without reinforcements, we will lose the war,” Lindon said with dread. “You saw what attacked your people in the tunnels,” he said to Donovan. “Do you think that is the extent of the Merrow and the king’s army? I don't.”
Donovan was silent, thinking on what Lindon said. He hadn't really thought about it, but Lindon was right. As they stood now, they wouldn't stand a chance if they were attacked. Without more soldiers, they were beaten before they even started. “Do you think we will be able to leave in the morning? There is a lot to do before we will be able to go. I mean, you have to find the right people, tell them all that they have to do, and probably make sure they start doing it right.”
“Yes, I do; I believe the people that I have in mind are the right men for the job, and I don't expect they will know any less than I do about running the army. Besides, both Arden and Aodhan will be here to do the actual leading and the training. What I need are good men, the kind that the others will trust and follow orders from.”
“You know your people better than we do. I just hope you’re right; it won't be much of an army if all that's left are the Dwarfs and the Elves,” Donovan said with a smile to take away the sting of his doubt.
Lindon returned the smile. “So do I, but we really don't have much of a choice. The weather will start to turn bad, and we have a long way to go. I don't know about you, but traveling in the snow is not my idea of fun.”
“True enough; if we want to leave by morning we had better get started organizing everything that needs doing,” Donovan stated.
Chapter 24
Lindon had not counted on the resistance to their leaving. When Aina told her people that she would be leaving again, they lost their normally calm demure. Piran, her steward, was the most vocal. He was adamant that if she were to leave, her people would suffer and as queen she should put their needs above her own.
Donovan was having the same argument. Barden, the late king’s assistant, and Kailid were both arguing the need for Donovan to stay with his people.
Lindon was having a little better luck. He had sent for both Nealon and Dermot, both of whom had been the spokesmen when the humans had tried to take weapons from the Dwarfs. They were now both staunchly devoted to Lindon.
It was his grandmother and Arden who were showing sings of resistance to his leaving without them.
“I don't understand why we can’t go with you. If it is as necessary to go as you say, I would think you would welcome our company,” Cora said for the third time.
It was hard to try to explain that he, Aina, Donovan, and Nara had to go alone without telling her why. He was about to try again when his newly promoted generals were shown in by Annan, Aodhan’s assistant.
“You called for us, my lord?” Nealon asked.
“Yes, thank you both for coming. I will be going on a long journey and I will need both of your help. You will be working with Arden and Aodhan in the training of your men,” Lindon told the man.
“I don't understand, my lord. You are our leader. We need you here,” Dermot asserted.
Lindon was going to explain when Aina, her steward, and Donovan, along with Barden and Kailid, entered the command tent. They were still arguing as they entered. The noise of their protests was getting louder and louder. On one side of Lindon, his grandmother and Arden joined with Nealon and Dermot in arguing with Lindon, and on the other side it was the Donovan and Aina arguing with their people.
The pressure inside of Lindon's head started to build; he finally couldn't take it and yelled “ENOUGH!” Lindon's shout stopped all the arguments, and he stepped forward. “What we face is not to be underestimated, and what we have here is no match for them. Just the force that attacked the Dwarfs outnumber us fifty to one, and that does not include the king’s soldiers,” Lindon bellowed at the men and woman in the tent.
In a slightly more sinister tone, he continued. “Nor does that count on whatever the Merrow can throw at us; we have no idea the full extent of what we are up against. But that is going to change tonight. There will be no more argument. Do I make myself clear?” he asked but did not wait for them to answer.
Pointing at the Human generals, he added, “You will work with Arden and Aodhan in the training of the men. Together you will create the heart of this army, and I want them trained to the utmost. Every waking hour will be devoted to some kind of training. I will leave it up to you four to decide the what and how of it.
“Grams, you will take the magic users and teach and train them how to fight. I don't care how, but I want them to work within the army to better them in any and every way. I leave it up to you on the how; I don’t know how magic works but you do. Teach whatever it takes to make them into war wizards, and not just the humans—gather all of the magic users including the Elves and the Dwarfs.”
“No! Eleven magi do not use magic to fight only to nurture,” Piran protested.
Turning on the Elf, Lindon's intensity grew stronger. “THEN YOUR PEOPLE WILL DIE THE SAME AS THE ONES LEFT IN SHU KALA!” Lindon's voice rang with such force that the Elf fell to his knees if front of him.
Bending down, he lifted the Elf's face to look directly into his eyes. “If we do not fight with everything that we have—if we hold back even a little—the Merrow will wipe us out; not just us but every living thing. You must put aside your notions of pride and get into the mud with the rest of us and fight not only for our lives but for our very survival. If we fail, there is no second chance. We will die and the Merrow will have this world for their own.” The last he said not only to the Elf kneeling before him but to everyone in the tent.
The sincerity of the young man coupled with the his intensity led to not a soul in the room that doubted him. As one they each went to their knees. Even Aodhan slipped out of his chair to bow before Lindon.
Lindon was overwhelmed by the display; he looked to his grandmother as she knelt before him. The expression was one of pride; her grandson was claiming his inheritance. He was not just accepting the role of leadership but was actively claiming it—and not because he wanted to lead, because he must.
He had finally answered the question, why him? Because there was no one else that could. He was chosen by prophecy without his consent, and pushed along at every turn, but looking out at the faces before him he made a promise to himself, he would do everything in his power to defeat the evil of the Merrow, even if it cost him his life.
In mind-speak he asked his friends to come to him. When they were beside him, he spoke to the rest. “I leave this task of preparing the army and making it grow in your capable hands. You will work with each other in all aspects. There can be no more pride. We are not different races; we are all one in our effort to survive,” Lindon told them.
“We four must leave, not for our benefit but for the need of us all; we must find allies to help in our struggle, for if we fall then everyone will fall and the Merrow will rule this world alone.”
Lindon did not wait for them to stand but turned to his friends. “Go, get everything ready; we leave at first light.”
His friends looked at Lindon in awe, not only had he stopped all argument but the looks on everyone’s face in the tent was a look of complete devotion to Lindon and his cause, they would no longer doubt if he could lead
them. They would follow him anywhere and do all that he would ask of them or die trying.
End of Book 1
Epilogue
King Tristan Agether sat pensively on his throne, having one of those days where the past returned to haunt him. Ever since word had come that his wife was still alive and in the company of a young boy—presumably his grandson—he'd had a feeling of impending doom.
Twelve years ago he had made a deal: eternal life and magical power to achieve his dream of conquering all the lands, and to bring order and his rule to the neighboring kingdoms and the other races. To kill his son and grandson was their price—yes, the price was high. Some nights he still woke up in a cold sweat with what he had done. Not only did he lose his offspring but also his wife that fateful night, or so he had thought.
The power that they imbued him with was incredible, and compared to the magus in his court he was by far the most powerful. The one drawback: Once a year he had to bring one of the magi to sacrifice and drain their power. Next month would be time for the next one; he would soon have to cultivate a relationship with one of them so when they went missing it would not be suspect. Telling their family and friends that they are on a top-secret mission—one they just never return from—had always worked in the past.
Nothing was going his way; that’s not what his unusual allies had promised. They had told the king, with his son and grandson dead, nothing could stand in his way, and for twelve years nothing did.
His grandson was five years old at the time; he should have died that night. How hard was it to kill a five-year-old? And yet he lived. It was all his wife's fault; he had loved her but she had stood in the way of his ambitions. Somehow she had saved him, and kept him hidden all these years, and now here he was helping his enemies, just like they said he would.
“Tell me again how you were stopped from carrying out my orders,” he asked the magus’ shadow.
“Yes, sire. We were at the gate of the Dwarven castle when their magical sun that they used to light the cavern came crashing down, killing your soldiers and allowing the Dwarfs to escape,” the magus said nervously. His king was not known to tolerate failure and usually the messengers of bad news went missing, never to be seen again.
“And why isn't my general here to give me the news?” the king asked.
“Well, sire, he confronted the boy with his shadow to delay him so we could capture him, and somehow the boy destroyed it.”
“What do you mean destroyed it; do you mean he dismissed it?”
“No, Your Highness, I mean he no longer has a shadow; it's gone.”
“That's not possible!” the king exclaimed. “No one has the power to remove someone’s shadow; it's part of a person and cannot be destroyed.”
“I don't know how he did it, but it is true. We even went back to the surface and he stood in the sunlight but he still doesn't cast a shadow,” the magus told the king.
“Tell him to come to me; I want to see this for myself. As for the army, I want you to track the boy and the Dwarfs down, and eliminate them,” he ordered. “And one last thing, general,” he added in a sinister voice, “don't fail me.”
“Yes, sire, understood,” the magus whispered as his shadow faded from view.
When his shadow was back, the magus breathed a sigh of relief, but at the thought of his promotion, he was scared of what would happen if he failed to capture or kill the boy and the Dwarfs. This time it would be his neck on the line, not his superior’s. With trepidation, he moved to carry out his king’s orders.
Once the magus was gone, the king turned to his ally, the one that had been with him since the beginning. “How is it possible that the boy could destroy someone’s shadow?”
“We do not know, but that is why you needed to remove him. There has never been a shaper of magic before, so we do not know all he is capable of. We must find him and eliminate him as soon as possible,” the hooded man said with his strange and compelling voice.
In all the time he had spent with him, the king had never seen what he looked like, but the voice was so compelling that every time he thought to ask, something always changed his mind.
“I still do not understand exactly what a shaper of magic is. Is he just some powerful magus?” the king asked.
“No, from what little we know about him, he does not create the magic, but he is able to use others’ magic and transform it to do his own bidding.”
“That doesn't seem to be that great of a power; I mean, if he can't create it, he would have no defence against someone just sticking a knife in his back,” the king said with disdain.
“Tell that to your magus with no shadow; as I said, we do not know all he is capable of doing and from reports, he is most deadly with his twin swords. Getting close enough to stick a knife in his back won't be as easy as that.”
“Yes, but no swordsman could stand up to a magus,” the king insisted.
Sometimes dealing with these Humans was tiring to the Merrow, but for now they needed them to carry out their plans to rid the world of all lesser races. “And how much good would a magus be when any magic they used could be turned against them? The boy is more dangerous then any magi, and as such, has to be eliminated before he realizes his true potential,” he told the king.
The king sat in silence, thinking on what the hooded man had told him. “Yes, I understand why he could be so dangerous to our plans. He will be hunted down and killed so he doesn't interfere with us, and soon we will rule the land, and order will reign forever,” the king said with confidence.
The Merrow only nodded his agreement. If this pathetic Human knew the truth behind their plans, he wouldn't be so quick to kill his own grandson—their only chance at escaping total destruction. With the Dragons safely imprisoned and the Elves mostly eliminated, all that was left were the Dwarfs and the humans. Even with the magic shaper they didn't stand much of a chance. They would still hunt him down and kill him just in case. They would not take a chance that he could disrupt their plans; the Merrow had learned their lesson in the first war with the inhabitants of the world. They would not understate them again.
Written by
Michael C Dalrymple
Shaping Magic (Mistakes Return) Page 23