Each of the arch mages examined it in turn and all shook their heads. None had ever come across anything like it before.
“A strange magic is emanating from it,” said one mage as he handled the object. “It is not entirely black magic, nor is it white or grey. It seems to be a combination of all three.”
“I agree,” said Krendal. “It requires closer scrutiny. Fildamir, I leave it in your care. See if you and your underlings can decipher it.”
Fildamir, an older arch mage, nodded.
“The rest we will put into safe keeping until Sandor regains his sanity, if ever.” Krendal shifted his attention to Kazin. “Kazin, Max’s family has not yet been notified of his death. Would you like me to tell them the sad news, or would you prefer to do it yourself? I know you were fairly close.”
Kazin sighed. “It would be better if I told them. They might not take it so badly then.”
“Very well,” said Krendal. He lifted the fire protection talisman from Sandor’s pile. “It won’t make Max come back, but I hope this gift will help to ease their sorrow. They may sell it if they wish.” He gave it to Kazin.
“Thank you, Sir,” said Kazin.
“Is there anything you wish to add to this meeting, Kazin?” asked Krendal.
“Well, Sir,” said Kazin, “I don’t know if it’s important or not, but—well—.”
“Go on,” said Krendal gently.
“I encountered an unusual traveling companion,” said Kazin. “A dwarf. I know dwarves are known to exaggerate, but his story was somewhat alarming. Apparently in his travels in the mountain—he was a map maker by trade—he ran into some lizardmages conducting some kind of ritual. They were stealing the minds of prisoners—mostly dwarves—and controlling their bodies using some kind of staff with a skull mounted on top with glowing eyes. With the help of a minotaur, he rescued the prisoners and killed the lizardmage and his guards.
“Anyway,” continued Kazin, “when he got back home he told his king. The king investigated but found no evidence of this so-called battle. As a result, Harran—that’s the dwarf’s name—was banished from his kingdom for lying to his king and for helping the minotaur to escape—but that’s another story.”
Kazin paused. Silence hung in the air for a moment before Krendal spoke. “I have heard of dwarven map makers before. They are the elite navigators in the mountains. A crime must be serious indeed for a map maker to be banished from the dwarven realm. I can see why his king was upset, however. The dwarves banished the lizardmen from that part of the mountains many years ago. To imply that they have returned is a serious crime indeed. If the claim were false, the king acted justly.
“Another thing that doesn’t add up is the part about the minotaur. Perhaps the dwarf added a minotaur to his story to make his victory more palpable. Otherwise, nobody would believe him. As for freeing the minotaur from the dwarven realm, it follows that he would use it as an excuse for his banishment. Personally, I don’t believe a minotaur would survive a trip to the dwarven realm, let alone escape from it.”
The other mages in the room nodded in agreement.
“Nevertheless,” continued Krendal, “all myths are based on truths. It may very well be that the dwarf encountered lizardmages, and if he were captured by them, who knows what they may have planted in his brain? We would be wise to keep our eyes and ears open for similar stories or occurrences.”
“I agree,” said Valdez. “The minotaur threat in the north may be growing. If lizardmen are involved, we will have our hands full.”
“That brings me to our next subject,” said Krendal. “We’ve sent a good number of mages to the northeast to assist in a possible war. The mages manning this tower may be in adequate supply, but the other towers have a smaller than usual number of black mages available. Shanelle, see to it that the workload in the other towers is distributed evenly. I don’t want mages lying around half dead from exhaustion.”
“Wise precaution, Krendal,” said Shanelle. Shanelle was a dark-haired arch mage with a penetrating gaze. She smiled wickedly. “Some of those master mages need the exercise, anyway.” There was light chuckling at this.
“How go the artifact sales, Limbard?” asked Krendal, addressing another arch mage.
“Better than ever,” answered Limbard. “At this rate, we’ll have a surplus by the end of the year.”
“Very good,” said Krendal. “But don’t count your chickens before they hatch. This could be a very costly year if war breaks out.”
“Will it affect the support fund for those relying on our assistance?” asked another arch mage by the name of Noreen.
“Even if war breaks out, you’ll be O.K.,” said Limbard reassuringly.
“I think we should call on the clerics to increase their assistance in the north,” said Shanelle. “They have already sent some support, but the Tower of Strength has reported that it is inadequate should war break out.”
“They’ve said that before,” said Krendal. “However, I agree with them this time. If the minotaurs have lizardmen to back them up, the casualties will be high.”
“If the dwarf Kazin mentioned was telling the truth,” added Fildamir.
“We can’t afford to take chances,” said Krendal.
“Speaking of taking chances,” said Shanelle, “we can’t be sure if lizardmages are monitoring our messages to and from the other towers. I move that we use another method of communication.”
“Good point,” said Krendal. “Any suggestions?”
“We still have trained pigeons in the towers,” said Fildamir.
“It’s a much slower means of communication,” pointed out Valdez. “Pigeons often get killed or intercepted as well.”
“We’ll have to implement a code for the orbs,” said another unidentified arch mage. “To ensure the codes don’t get into the wrong hands, we need to send them via messengers. Once in place, we can use the orbs to communicate between the towers without the fear of being understood by the enemy.”
“Excellent idea,” said Krendal. “That way we can insure speed and secrecy of communications between the towers should an emergency arise.”
“The code must be implemented in all the towers to work,” added Valdez.
“Whom should we assign to transport the codes?” asked Noreen.
“We’ll take some master mages from the artifact room,” said Krendal.
“I nominate Jarad,” said Fildamir sarcastically. “He’s making very little headway on that super shield of his. A break will do him good.”
Krendal laughed. “He’s still working on that is he?”
“I nominate Kazin,” said Valdez. “After what he’s been through, that will be a pleasant change of pace!”
“Granted,” said Krendal, “as long as his destination is the Tower of Hope. I have a special assignment for him.”
“Which is?” prodded Valdez.
“I’d like him to borrow their Book of Prophesy and bring it back so we can make a copy for ourselves.” Krendal turned to Kazin. “Think you can handle that, son?”
“Yes, Sir,” answered Kazin eagerly.
“Why don’t they make a copy and then send it down to us?” asked Shanelle.
“They are hard pressed as it is with their own affairs,” said Krendal. “It was our loss and since we have the manpower, it should be up to us to make our own copy.”
Shanelle nodded.
“Very well,” continued Krendal. “Meldrin, how long until you can have those codes ready?”
A short arch mage who sat directly across from Krendal and had not spoken until now answered in a squeaky voice, “The codes will be ready by this time tomorrow.”
“Excellent. That settles it then,” said Krendal, rising. “Fildamir, by this time tomorrow, have your chosen mages assemble for messenger
duty. Kazin, you can send our condolences to Max’s family. Then go and spend the rest of the night at home. However, this time I want you to show up at the tower first thing in the morning and wait for me to give you orders personally! If you receive instructions to the contrary, ignore them!”
“Yes, Sir,” answered Kazin.
They adjourned the meeting and Kazin was about to depart from the tower when Valdez stopped him.
“Kazin! I’ve got some information for you. There’s been some sort of fight at your neighbour’s farm the other day. The Takar residence, I believe. There was a skirmish and a fire. I don’t know all the details, but I thought you’d like to know. Be careful!”
“Thanks, Arch Mage Valdez,” said Kazin. He tried to maintain his calm but once he teleported over to Marral, he began to run. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing another friend.
Chapter 21
Kazin continued past Max’s house without stopping. That part was going to have to wait for now. When he came within sight of Sherman’s place, he was shocked at the sight. The front gate was torn off its hinges, and the barn was little more than a skeleton, most of it burned to the ground. Some cows were contentedly chewing hay under a lean-to not far away. The house appeared to be the only building undamaged.
Kazin ran up to the house and banged on the door. There was silence for a moment and suddenly the door swung open wide. In its place stood a large, fierce looking warrior wielding an enormous sword. Kazin was temporarily taken off guard.
The warrior, upon seeing the mage, suddenly grinned and sheathed his sword. “Kazin! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick! Why didn’t you send word or something?”
Kazin suddenly realized he had been gone for nearly three weeks. It certainly didn’t seem that long. “I was on an important mission, only, it wasn’t an important mission after all and—never mind. I’ll tell you about it later. What happened here? By the looks of it, you’ve had more important things to worry about besides me. Is everything O.K.?”
Sherman smiled. “Everyone’s A.O.K. The fence is reparable, but the barn is finished. We’ll have to build a new one. Mom’s a little tense, but I can’t blame her. She wasn’t used to seeing dead men on her lawn.”
“Dead men? What happened?”
Sherman stepped aside. “Come on inside and I’ll explain.”
Kazin entered the house and went into the sitting room. Ezra was cleaning off a table. She looked up and smiled wanly. “Hello, Kazin. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Hi, Mrs. Takar. I’m sorry to see you lost your barn. I wish I could have been here to help.”
“A barn is only a building, Kazin. We are fortunate we didn’t lose my husband or my son. That would have been an irreplaceable loss. Though why anyone would want to hurt them is beyond me.”
“I know how you must feel,” said Kazin sadly, looking down at the floor. “Losing someone close to you is a hard thing to deal with.”
Ezra looked at Kazin with concern in her eyes. “You sound as if you really lost someone, Kazin. Are you O.K.?”
Kazin looked up again. “Yes, I’m fine. I just wish I could say the same for Max.”
“Max?” asked Sherman. “What happened to him?”
“He’s dead, Sherman,” said Kazin. “He was killed in our last mission.”
“Poor boy!” exclaimed Ezra. She came forward and embraced Kazin. “I’m so sorry, Kazin.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Takar,” said Kazin.
Ezra released Kazin and asked, “Do his parents know? Have you told them?”
“Not yet,” said Kazin. “I was going to stop there first but I heard about the situation here so I came straight here instead.”
“You can be at ease about us, Kazin,” said Ezra. “My husband’s asleep and Randall’s in town, and, as you can see, Sherman and I are still alive.” She looked lovingly at her son. “It’ll take more than a bunch of bandits to harm my son!”
Sherman blushed.
“Don’t tarry here too long,” continued Ezra. “Max’s family deserves to know about Max as soon as possible.”
“I know,” said Kazin. “I’m going there shortly.”
“Come on,” said Sherman. “I’ll walk you to the gate and tell you what happened while you were gone.”
The friends went outside and headed slowly for the gate. Sherman related the events of the attack several days earlier. Apparently Randall and Mrs. Takar were in town for supplies at the time. Sherman was suspicious about that part and mentioned it several times in his narrative. When the bandits first appeared, they said they were looking for work. Mr. Takar refused their request and they became belligerent. Sherman came outside to see what was wrong and the moment the bandits saw him, they drew their weapons and ran toward him. To separate Sherman from his father, one bandit lit the barn on fire. Mr. Takar was forced to try to contain the fire and save the cows while his son fought the enemies single-handedly.
Sherman quickly disarmed his first opponent and used that man’s own weapon, a short sword, to finish him off. With the same weapon, he fended off several blows and kept his attackers at bay.
Meanwhile, Mr. Takar had gotten the cows out of the barn, but it was too late to save the building itself. Seeing Sherman surrounded by bandits, he abandoned the barn and, armed with a pitchfork, charged into their midst. The pitchfork struck true, and one bandit collapsed to the ground. Another bandit slashed at Sherman’s father but did no damage, hitting his arm cast, which was not due to be removed for another three days. Sherman took advantage of this distraction to launch a series of well-placed blows of his own. Two more bandits were felled before the rest turned and fled, tripping over the gate in their haste.
When Randall and Ezra finally arrived from town, the barn was already in ruins. They were in time to see the last of the bodies being dragged to the road for the undertaker to retrieve.
“And that’s how it ended,” finished Sherman.
“I don’t know,” said Kazin, “but it’s sure beginning to look as if someone doesn’t like you, Sherman.”
“I know,” said Sherman with a sigh. “I just wish they would come forward and identify themselves personally. I’m getting tired of fighting the middle men.”
“Don’t wish too hard,” said Kazin. “You might get more than you bargained for.”
The friends parted at the broken gate and Kazin backtracked to Max’s house. He didn’t really want to do this next job, but it had to be done. When he arrived, he asked to be let in the house to bear some sad tidings. The parents reacted as he expected. Max’s mother excused herself and went into a back room. His father simply sat there and shook his head. Kazin related what he could of their dangerous quest and emphasized Max’s prowess in attacking the dragon. Finally Kazin could say no more and excused himself, offering his condolences before departing.
He was only part way down the front stairs when he remembered the talisman from the tower. He drew it from his pocket and turned to re-enter the house when he saw Max’s younger sister, Vera, standing in the doorway.
“Hi,” said Vera.
“Hi,” answered Kazin. “Sorry about your brother.”
“I’ll miss him,” said Vera sadly. “I always wanted to be a mage like him.”
“I’m not sure your parents would like that,” said Kazin. “They wouldn’t want you to end up like your brother.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Vera confidently. “Not if I’m a white mage. I could heal mages like you and Max so you wouldn’t die.”
Suddenly an idea occurred to Kazin. “How old are you, Vera?”
Vera grinned shyly. “Eleven. I’ll be twelve in two weeks, though.”
Kazin smiled. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
Kazin held out the talisman. “This talisman is for you. It
’s a fire protection medallion. It’ll get you started on becoming a white mage. Consider it an early birthday present.”
“Gee, thanks!” Vera held it aloft admiringly.
“Just don’t let your parents see it yet. After what happened to Max, they might take it away from you.”
Vera quickly hid the talisman in her pocket. “You can count on me!”
As Kazin left Max’s house, he felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. For every mage to die, another one would always come to take his place. Kazin had no doubt that Max’s sister would become an excellent white mage if she kept up her interest and enthusiasm. Kazin whistled lightly to himself as he headed for the comfort of home.
The reunion with his family was short but heartfelt and early the next morning the young mage departed for his new assignment for the tower. Leaving so soon after getting back was hard but he had work to do and this time he was not going to make any mistakes.
Rounding the bend in the road near Sherman’s place, he was surprised to see the warrior himself, exiting the gate with a large packsack on his back.
“Sherman!” called Kazin. “Where are you off to so early?”
Sherman spun around. “Oh—hi Kazin. I might ask you the same question.”
“You first,” said Kazin, catching up to him.
“I’m taking my troubles away from home,” said Sherman. “It’s obvious that someone is after me and if I stay at home it’ll do more harm than good. I left a note and some gold coins on the table so they can buy materials for a new barn. Until I find out who’s after me, it’s better that way.”
“Your mother’s not going to like that,” said Kazin.
“I know,” answered Sherman. “But it’s for the best. I’ll find some work somewhere.”
Kazin realized Sherman would be hard pressed to find work with enemies following him around. They marched in silence for a while.
“Well?” prodded Sherman finally.
“What? Oh—I’m going on a trip for the tower. My first messenger job.”
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 19