He set a magical ward around the campsite and left to scout for water. After a short search, he found a small stream bubbling softly along a mossy bank. He refilled his wineskin and was about to take a swig when something white flitted among the trees to his right. He cautiously re-corked his wineskin and crept to the area where he had seen the object. He searched for a few moments and was about to give up when he saw it again. Whatever it was, it was very quiet. He wended his way through the brush toward it but accidentally stepped on a dry twig, cracking it loudly. The white object instantly vanished without a sound. Kazin swore softly. Whatever it was, it was now scared off. He waited a few minutes in silence but knew it was a waste of time. Finally he returned to camp and sat with his back against a tree. He tried to study his magic book but couldn’t concentrate because his stomach still burned. He drank some water. The burning subsided somewhat and he relaxed.
The next moment he was standing up and his neck hairs stood on end. There it was again. Someone was laughing hysterically. The laughter was strange, yet familiar. Where had he heard it before? As suddenly as it came it stopped. Kazin shook his head. There was little sleep in store for him tonight. He hastily created a shield around the campsite and sat down again. The laughter never returned but the uneasiness remained, and the burning in his stomach was ever present.
The next day the sky began to clear, allowing the warm sun to penetrate as they rode. The road winded and twisted, rising gradually, and one bend in the road led to a rocky opening that was higher than the surrounding countryside. Through a gap in the trees they could see the mountains to the north.
“We’re getting close,” said Sherman.
“How much further, do you figure?” asked Kazin.
“We’ll get there easily by sundown if we keep up this pace,” said Sherman. “You O.K. with that, Harran?” he asked over his shoulder.
“No problem,” said the dwarf. “If your horse can make it, so can mine.”
True to Sherman’s word they arrived at the Tower of Hope just as the sun was sinking in the west behind the waters of North Lake.
The area around the tower was still a mess, littered with the corpses of a wide range of creatures, such as orcs and goblins. There were many piles of these creatures stacked up and burning. Some soldiers were still gathering charred and broken remains and throwing them on top of the burning pyres. The stench was almost unbearable.
Kazin had never seen so many dead bodies except in his test. Perhaps that was an effort to prepare him for just such a scene. If so, his stomach didn’t agree. It was still nagging him from the previous night and the present stench didn’t help matters any. He swayed in his saddle. Sherman saw his predicament and reached across to steady him, offering his wineskin.
“Thanks,” murmured Kazin, drinking shakily. After settling his uneasiness, Kazin aimed his horse for the tower gates.
The Tower of Hope, also known as the white tower, was the headquarters of the white mages, or clerics, as they were commonly called. This tower was different in appearance from the black tower. Other than being snowy white in colour, it was triangular in shape. There were six triangles making up the main level. Above these were three more triangles, and the top floor was a lone triangle balanced on the tops of the three triangles beneath. This setup allowed light to filter in from all sides and reflect within, giving the tower a unique ‘lit-up’ appearance. The clerics also claimed that the healing moonlight was amplified, speeding up the healing process for those within. Atop the upper triangle’s peak was a white flag bearing the clerics’ symbol, a thin blue circle surrounding a white dot.
Surrounding the tower were walled structures called the battlements. These walls were recessed along their length, allowing clerics to cast spells and archers to shoot at potential enemies. At the corners were tall towers overlooking the areas to each side of the battlements, allowing the defenders to fire at any enemies close to the walls. Few of the dead were within the walls, the majority of the bodies lying in the exposed fields to the north. The gate at the entrance stood open and a cleric in a dirty, tattered white robe stood there, watching soldiers passing out of the gates with dead bodies from within. He spotted the visitors and held up a hand.
“What is your business with the Tower of Hope?” he inquired.
“I have some important documents to deliver to the tower,” answered Kazin. “It involves our communications via the orb.”
The cleric nodded. “I am cleric Hansen. I will take you to high cleric Malachi. Your friends will have to stay behind, though.”
Kazin turned to his friends. “See what you can learn. I’ll get back to you later.” He followed the cleric into the tower.
Harran and Sherman went over to one of the burning pyres and glanced at the bodies. Along with orcs and goblins, there were ogres, trolls, and a few lizardmen. There was even a minotaur.
Harran glanced around. “That’s funny. I don’t see any dead soldiers or clerics.”
“That’s because they were probably removed first for burial,” said Sherman. “The battle’s been over for more than a day now. They’ve finished burying our dead and now they’re removing the bodies of the enemy.”
“That makes sense,” nodded Harran.
They spotted a lone soldier trying to drag a body that was much too heavy for him and went over to give him a hand.
“Here, let me help you with that,” said Sherman, lifting the body with one hand and throwing it over his shoulder.
The young soldier, perhaps a boy in his late teens, ogled with amazement. He wiped a grimy palm across his sweaty forehead. “Thanks,” he panted.
The trio walked over to the pyre and Sherman threw it on top. Its scaly hide and frog-like face bulged with the heat. The giant fin on its head wavered awkwardly in the heat. “Ugh! What is that?” asked Sherman, shocked that he had handled such a grotesque creature without first looking at it.
The youth appeared surprised. “That’s a skink warrior.”
“A what?!” asked both Harran and Sherman together. Apparently the dwarf had never seen one before either.
“A skink warrior,” repeated the youth. Seeing the blank looks on their faces, he continued, “They come from North Lake. They always fight for the losing side.”
Sherman scratched his head. “I don’t get it.”
“Get what?” asked a voice behind him. Another soldier, considerably older, threw a goblin on the pyre and turned to them. “Get what?” he repeated.
“I was telling them about skink warriors,” said the youth.
“Oh, those things,” said the older soldier. “Those are unusual creatures alright. They come out of North Lake every time there’s a battle and take sides with the losing side. But beware! If the tide of the battle changes, so do they, and before you know it, they’re shooting you in the back! They’re handy when you’re losing, but a real problem if you’re winning!”
“They have no allegiances?” asked Harran.
The older soldier shook his head. “They serve no one but themselves.” He scratched his head. “Funny thing, though. They won’t shoot at Lizardmen. Maybe they’re related or something.”
“What kind of weapons do they use?” asked Sherman. “Not magic, I hope.”
“No,” said the youth. “They use only bows and arrows or crossbows.”
“They don’t like close combat?” pursued Sherman.
“Nope,” said the elder soldier. “Now you see why they can be such a pain.”
Harran and Sherman exchanged glances and nodded.
Chapter 25
After entering one of the main floor triangles, Kazin was appalled by the seemingly overcrowded halls filled with numerous patients, intermingled with exhausted white mages scurrying from bed to bed to tend to the injured. He followed his guide to an inner corner of the triangle where there
were several blue circles on the floor, not unlike the ones in the Tower of Sorcery. He was instructed to stand on one circle while his guide stood on another and instantly they were whisked to the second floor of the tower. It was more serene here and the clerics on this level were sitting in a circle with their hands joined, singing a sad, lonely chant.
Cleric Hansen put a finger to his lips and whispered, “They are channelling healing energy down to the lower levels. To disturb them could result in the death of some of the critically injured.”
Kazin nodded and followed the cleric to another set of circles which whisked them to the top level. Unlike the lower levels, this level had many rooms along the outside wall centered on a triangular inner chamber. Kazin followed cleric Hansen to one of the outer rooms and, after knocking and waiting for a response, they were ushered into what Kazin identified as the orb room. The communications orb sat on the middle of a triangular table in the center of the room and one chair was on each side of the table.
A middle-aged, brown haired cleric rose and introduced himself as High Cleric Malachi. Kazin introduced himself and produced a scroll from his robe, outlining the instructions given him by the Tower of Sorcery.
“I’ll implement this secret code as soon as I’ve contacted Arch Mage Krendal,” said Malachi. “Please wait outside until I am finished.”
Kazin waited outside with cleric Hansen and took the opportunity to ask him about the details of the battle. Apparently the enemy legions appeared at nightfall several days ago. They raided farms, burned buildings, and massacred people as they went. Their main objective, however, seemed to be the tower. The clerics were hard pressed to hold on, having sent most of their soldiers east to the impending battle there. The enemy had come up with some sort of zombie that was immune to dispel spells. The zombies consisted mainly of orcs and goblins, and there seemed to be no stopping them. Then, out of the blue, a swarm of skink warriors appeared and began pelting the so-called zombies with their arrows. The zombies fell, oozing gore as if they weren’t really undead.
The clerics were too busy to care. Out of the sky appeared a legion of lizardmen riding chimeras. The chimeras were fiery in appearance, with lion heads and great golden wings. Everyone ran for cover as the fire-breathing creatures spewed fire on the defenders while their mounts cast spells of equal devastation. The clerics finally managed a hastily erected shield, but not before one of the mounted lizardmen crashed into an unprotected portion of the tower. The clerics inside quickly chased the intruder back out again, but not before he succeeded in stealing some books from the library.
When they finally drove off the chimeras, the clerics turned their attention back to the ground battle. Thanks to the assistance of the skink warriors, the tide was turned in their favour. Of course, that meant the skinks were now the enemy!
“What do you mean?” asked Kazin. “I thought the skink warriors were on your side. What are skink warriors, anyway?”
The cleric filled Kazin in on skink warriors and resumed his story, telling of a serious back and forth battle until the sudden unexplained withdrawal of the enemy.
“So all they accomplished,” resumed the cleric, “was raiding and burning some farms, killing and being killed, and stealing some books.”
Kazin shook his head. “Why would they—wait a minute! What books did they steal?”
Cleric Hansen thought for a moment. “According to our master of the library, they took all of the books on orbs. In his haste, the thief grabbed most of the books in the ‘o’ section and some of the books in the ‘p’ section.”
The hair on the back of Kazin’s neck stood on end. “What about the Book of Prophesy?”
“The master of the library said that one was taken also,” said the cleric. “Of course, if we couldn’t figure it out, I don’t see how a bunch of lizardmen can make sense of it.”
Kazin merely shook his head and sighed.
Malachi opened the door to the orb room and asked Kazin to step inside. Kazin entered and was told to sit down and look into the orb. In it he saw Arch Mage Krendal. As Krendal began to speak, Kazin yelped and grabbed his head, watching the room spin rapidly around him. Malachi swore and told Kazin to hold his hand and while he chanted a strange spell. When the spell was complete, the spinning stopped and Kazin no longer felt dizzy.
“What happened?” asked Kazin.
“My fault,” said Malachi. “I forgot to prepare you to handle the secret language. You should be able to understand Krendal now.”
“Are you O.K., Kazin?” asked Krendal.
“Yes,” said Kazin. “The secret communication code seems to be working. Anyone listening in will have a horrific headache without the code.”
“Good,” said Krendal. “High Cleric Malachi told me about the events of the past couple of days there. It seems your earlier report of lizardmages is partly true, judging by what happened at the Tower of Hope. We weren’t prepared for a battle on two fronts. Perhaps this was only a diversion to keep our troops split up. Perhaps it’s more serious than that. I don’t know. In any case, communications are now secure between the Tower of Hope and the Tower of Sorcery. Well done, Kazin. Now, about your other assignment. Did you get the book?”
“Uh,” Kazin hesitated. “Didn’t High Cleric Malachi tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“The Book of Prophesy was one of the ones stolen during the battle.”
“What?!”
“You’re looking for the Book of Prophesy?” asked Malachi. “Don’t you have a copy in your library?”
“It was stolen also,” said Krendal sheepishly. “It’s a long story, but the gist of it is, I believe parts of it are coming true, and it may hold the key to the coming events.”
“How do you know?” asked Malachi.
“Well, for one thing, this year we had two mages perfect the test. The Book of Prophesy foretold of an army of darkness when that occurred.”
Malachi gasped. “Two mages perfected the test? Why wasn’t I informed?”
Krendal frowned. “I didn’t know you took an interest in our tests.”
Malachi rose and began to pace back and forth in the tiny room. “This is different. This affects us all. It could be very significant.” He stopped and sat down again. “I know a master mage who works in your tower. I know he was well versed in prophesy jargon. Maybe he remembers parts of it that can be useful. What was his name, now? Sandy? Sandrin? That’s it! It was Sandor! Ask him!”
Malachi was met with silence. “Well? What’s wrong?”
“He’s the one who stole the book in the first place,” said Krendal.
“Then get it back from him!”
“A dragon destroyed it,” said Kazin.
Now it was Malachi’s turn to be stunned. “What?!”
“It’s another long story,” said Krendal. “Needless to say, Sandor is presently lying in the Tower of the Stars in the care of the clerics stationed there. He is no longer lucid. The encounter with the dragon was too much for him. I don’t expect any help from him.”
Malachi swore.
“Where did the thief go when he left the tower?” asked Krendal.
“Back into the mountains with the rest of them,” answered Malachi. “I’ve sent a battalion equipped with a black and white mage to scout out the mountains and see if they can track them. I don’t expect much, though. If I haven’t heard back from them by tomorrow, I’m sending a contingent to see if they’ve run into some difficulties.”
Krendal grumbled. “Kazin?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“I was going to send you off in pursuit of the thief but the mountains are too dangerous. Without a proper navigator you’d be lost in an instant.” He scratched his beard slowly. “Instead I—.”
“I can hire a navigator, if you like,” interrupted Kazin.
“No, Kazin. I’m talking about a real navigator. One who knows the mountains and the hazards they hold: one who never gets turned around or lost. What you need is a dwarven guide.”
“Precisely,” said Kazin, grinning.
Krendal frowned. “This is no time to fool around, Kazin.”
“I’m not fooling, Sir. There is a dwarf in my company who fits the description perfectly.”
“In your company?” queried Krendal slowly.
Kazin grinned. “It’s a long story.”
Krendal sighed.
“The troops that I sent have no guide,” said Malachi thoughtfully. “I told them if they find some caves or tunnels not to venture too far. Their search would go much easier with a guide. Perhaps if Kazin hires—.”
“Very well,” said Krendal, throwing his hands up in the air. “It’s two against one. Go ahead and hire him, Kazin. Then take your bodyguard and head for the mountains. When you find Malachi’s group, see if they’ve found any caves or tunnels and put the dwarf to work. Report to me in a week or so and by that time I’ll have some more work for you.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Kazin.
“Remember, Kazin, be extremely careful. Who knows what’s in those mountains.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Kazin solemnly.
“You are dismissed.”
Kazin nodded and quietly left the room.
“See to it Kazin and his company have somewhere to stay for the night, Malachi.”
The High Cleric nodded. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing with that young mage?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” said Krendal.
“You’re giving him a lot of slack. I could think of better things for him to do.”
Krendal sat back. “Malachi, you’ve known me for a long time, right?”
“Sure, so?”
“Well, you know how I go on gut feelings sometimes, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, remember when I said two mages perfected the test?”
“Yeah, so?”
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 22