Of course, Harran found it particularly perplexing that Zylor had actually agreed to go along with them. But then there was little choice. To go back into the mountains by himself would be too dangerous. Not in the physical sense; the minotaur could hold his own against any creature except perhaps a spell casting lizardman—and even they would have a tough time stopping him; but in these mountains there were no maps to navigate by, so he could very well become hopelessly lost. And to skirt the mountains’ edges would ultimately lead him into the hands of the human patrols who would certainly be looking for threats after the recent attack on the Tower of Hope.
That left only two options; either stay in the tower or go with the party on their journey. Harran knew Zylor was getting edgy with the constant fussing over his injury by the clerics in the tower and to leave that place behind must have provided some relief. To have a mage cast a number of spells on him was a small price to pay to escape the tower.
There was one other thing that seemed to be driving the minotaur but it was not something the dwarf could understand. It had something to do with the warrior and his fighting abilities, but exactly what, the dwarf couldn’t say. Harran glanced at the minotaur’s face but could not find the answer in the stony visage. He shrugged and continued to try to think of ways to cheer his friend up.
Kazin rode in silence, recounting the spells required to reactivate the orb in the Tower of the Sky. He glanced over at Milena, who rode beside him, and wondered if she was reviewing her own part of the reenergizing spell. She seemed very confident in her magic. Even Malachi had commented on this when he briefly told Kazin about her background and her contributions to the tower.
Apparently someone brought her to the tower as an infant, claiming she was found on the banks of North Lake. While debating the matter in council, the strange lady who brought her in disappeared and was never heard from again. A majority of the clerics voted to adopt her and train her in healing magic if she possessed the ability. Sure enough, she showed the ability at a very early age, earlier than most, and her magical strength was far more pronounced than even some of the more experienced clerics. She quickly became adept at more complex spells and was instrumental with both offensive and defensive spells in the recent battle at the tower.
Not bad, thought Kazin. She was a good selection for the task they were given.
Milena smiled up at the warrior in front of her. He gave a quick smile of his own and turned ahead to scan the roadside for danger. The big warrior seemed almost familiar in the way he handled himself. Even when they first met, he seemed to remind her of someone. Certainly she had never seen anyone even close in size or appearance at the tower. Perhaps he reminded her of one of the soldiers in General Larsen’s army. He had a habit of recruiting large men.
Besides the physical factor, Milena sensed the warrior’s kindness and integrity. He was a man of fairness and honesty. He would do what he could to protect his charges.
The dwarf and minotaur were also honourable in their intentions. But why they were there hinged on the one person she could not quite figure out—the mage.
As far as she could ascertain, Kazin was only recently promoted to master mage. Instead of being sent to support the armies like other master mages, he was being given various tasks by Arch Mage Krendal himself! Krendal rarely paid much attention to one particular mage. Why was Kazin so special? Was it because he just happened to be entrusted with the secret orb code? Milena didn’t think so. There was something else going on here and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. It was eleven days to the Tower of the Sky, so there was plenty of time to figure it out.
The companions arrived in Macron around sundown, and dismounted their horses by a stable next to a quiet inn near the Elgar River. Sherman volunteered to procure supplies at a nearby vendor while Milena made arrangements for their accommodations. Kazin led the others into the inn’s common room.
They sat down at a long table near the bar and ordered some drinks while they waited for their companions to return.
“I think we were being followed,” murmured Harran quietly.
Kazin glanced up at the dwarf. “Are you sure?”
Harran shook his head. “I can’t be too certain. They hung far enough back so as not to be seen. The only reason they seemed to be after us is the fact that they changed pace when we did.”
“Let’s keep our eyes and ears open just in case,” said Kazin.
Harran nodded.
Just then Milena returned. “The rooms are set.”
“Good,” grunted Zylor in his warrior’s disguise. “In that case, I’ll go to bed.”
“But you haven’t eaten yet,” objected Harran.
“I’m not hungry,” grunted Zylor, rising. He looked pointedly at the mage.
Kazin nodded in understanding. “I’ll go up with you and cancel the spell when we’re alone. We could both use a rest from the magic, anyway.”
“I’ll bring you up some dinner later,” called Harran after the two retreating figures.
The cleric and dwarf sat alone in awkward silence. After a moment, Milena decided to ask the dwarf some questions about his involvement in this mission. She was not prepared for his response.
It took a while for the dwarf to narrate his version of the events of the past several weeks, but when it was finished, Milena could only stare at Harran in amazement. With the exception of the battle at the Tower of Hope and the following adventure in the mountains, her life was a complete contrast to the lives of the company she was now in. Her life was more or less peaceful and serene, while theirs was a day to day struggle. She knew now that they considered her as one more person to protect. It was no wonder, with the experiences they had so far. She silently vowed not to let them be over protective—she could take care of herself—and she might even be required to protect them as well. But she would have to prove herself to them first, she knew. They wouldn’t accept her as an equal otherwise.
She was about to ask the dwarf about the minotaur’s role in all of this when Harran suddenly looked around, alarmed. “That’s funny. Where’s Kazin? He should have been back by now. And where’s that big warrior? He should be finished getting supplies by now as well.”
Chapter 31
Kazin was returning from Zylor’s room shaking his head sadly. The minotaur was getting more and more edgy with the spell he had to endure. There was no physical explanation. It was purely psychological. He thought he understood Zylor’s problem, though. The minotaur was in enemy territory and under a hated magical spell. That would make anyone edgy! Kazin hoped the minotaur would get over it. They still had a long way to go.
He looked out a landing window as he walked past but stopped when something caught his eye. Peering out again, he viewed the roadway below. Across the road and down a narrow street was the vendor’s shop where Sherman was purchasing supplies. He was still engrossed in conversation with the vendor, apparently arguing the price of some merchandise. On the inn’s end of the street a group of three men stood hunched around the corner. It looked as though they were spying on Sherman and the vendor. One man beckoned and a fourth man appeared, caped and hooded. A mage! Sherman was in trouble!
Kazin’s mind raced. He briefly thought about getting the minotaur, but it would take too long to cast the spell on him again and to bring a minotaur out into the streets would do more harm than good anyway.
Similarly, running all the way to the common room to fetch the others would cause insufferable delay. He had to react on his own.
Kazin instantly bounded down the stairs and exited the rear of the building running full tilt. When he reached the side street, he saw the three men bending over the inert form of Sherman while the vendor nervously stood by, unsure of what to do.
“Hey!” yelled Kazin, preparing a spell while running toward his fallen friend. He didn’t get far when a heavy
object struck him from the side and he went down with a crash. Dizzily, he began to rise when he heard a swishing noise followed immediately by two others. The three men surrounding Sherman each went down with a knife protruding from their necks. After that, Kazin’s vision blurred and he collapsed, unconscious.
Moments later he was being shaken roughly and he opened his eyes. Sherman stood there with one hand shaking him while the other held a man roughly by the arm. When Kazin’s vision cleared, he stared in shock. “Rubin?”
The swarthy sailor grinned and displayed his missing tooth. “I’m glad ye came around, son. Your buddy wants to do away with me for savin’ his life! You’d better set ‘im straight.”
“You know him?” asked Sherman in surprise. “The way he was bent over you, I’d swear he was your assailant.” He released the sailor.
Kazin grinned weakly. “It’s O.K., Sherman. From what I recall, he’s telling you the truth. Besides, if you’d have checked the knives in your attacker’s throats, they would have fit in the empty sheaths draped across Rubin’s chest.” He turned to the sailor. “How’d you throw those daggers so fast, anyway?”
Rubin grinned again. “That’s my secret.” He rubbed his arm and winced. “Quite the grip you got there, warrior.”
“Sorry,” muttered Sherman. “I had to be sure.” He proffered his hand. “Sherman Takar.”
“Rubin,” answered the sailor, shaking hands. “No last name.”
“What brings you to Macron?” asked Kazin.
“I might ask you the same thing,” responded the sailor.
“Let’s exchange stories in a safer place,” interrupted Sherman. “I don’t want to be ambushed again. It’s getting dark.”
The others agreed and Sherman helped Kazin to his feet while Rubin went back to retrieve his knives as well as Sherman’s pack of supplies by the vendor’s shop.
When Sherman and the others finally departed, the vendor closed his shop in obvious relief. After the three assailants were downed, he had tentatively stepped into the street when the big warrior suddenly jumped up and charged down the narrow street toward a man bending over another man. Determined not to get in the way, the vendor dove back into the haven of his shop and awaited the outcome. Fortunately there was no more killing.
With business concluded he quickly climbed upstairs to his bedroom and crawled into bed, hiding under his blankets. He briefly thought about retiring and moving into the country or somewhere far away from the city.
Kazin, Sherman, and Rubin entered the inn by the front door and nearly ran over the dwarf and cleric, who were going the opposite way.
“Whoa! What happened to you?” exclaimed Harran. He immediately noticed Kazin’s muddied cloak and Sherman’s dishevelled appearance.
“Let’s go to the common room and I’ll tell you,” said Kazin.
They sat down at their long table and after a brief introduction Kazin began his account of what happened. Sherman and Rubin filled in the rest and the story began to take shape.
Apparently, Kazin was spotted crossing the main road by Rubin, who was getting supplies at another nearby vendor’s shop. He wouldn’t have recognized the mage if it hadn’t been for Kazin leaving his hood down—something he had a habit of doing. Rubin followed the mage to the alley and heard his cry of warning just before seeing him fall flat on his face. Instinctively the sailor knew what to do. In three swift movements, the would-be muggers were felled. He then bent over Kazin and tried to revive him. Suddenly he was pinned to the ground by the very man whose life he had saved. After that Kazin woke and things were set straight.
“What I’d like to know,” said Kazin finally, “is what happened to the mage who struck me down and put Sherman to sleep.”
“I thought you just tripped,” said Rubin. “I didn’t see no other mages.”
“I was knocked down by some kind of magical thrust,” said Kazin. “If I had simply tripped, I wouldn’t have knocked myself out.”
“I suggest we set a watch tonight,” said Harran. “They could come back to bother us. I’ll take first watch. If that mage returns, let’s see if he can run away while he’s frozen!” He fingered his ice axe meaningfully.
“Good idea,” said Kazin.
“First let’s have dinner,” said Milena. She had been silently attentive until now. The companions looked at her almost in surprise. “While dinner’s being prepared, I’ll take care of your injuries.”
Kazin nodded. “Yes, we should eat and then get some rest. Tomorrow is likely to be a big day.”
During dinner Rubin told them he was on a routine supply trip and the Lady of the Sea was docked in Macron until the day after tomorrow. The troop movements had all but halted and most of the army was mired in Star City awaiting ships willing to ferry them north through the minotaur-infested waters to the Tower of Strength. A large scale fleet movement was planned to overrun the pestering minotaur ships and transport the troops safely to their destination.
On the return trip from Macron, after a brief stop at the guard tower along the Silver River, the Lady of the Sea was to sail to the Tower of the Stars to become one of the vessels in the fleet. It was said this fleet would rival the massive fleet under Admiral Barlin’s command a few hundred years earlier. The only thing up in the air was the time of departure. It was even possible that the Lady of the Sea would be too late to be of assistance.
Rubin asked Kazin about his destination and offered to take him south—he was heading that way anyway.
Kazin declined. “We can’t wait. Besides, to travel by land would be faster. By boat you would move downstream quickly, but then the trek by land around the north side of the Five Fingers mountains would slow us down considerably.”
Rubin nodded thoughtfully. “You’re probably right.” He rose. “Well, friends, I’ve got to go but I wish you success and safety on your journey.”
Kazin rose also. “And our thanks for your help this evening. We owe you our lives.”
“Think nothin’ of it,” said the sailor with his now familiar grin. He shook hands with them all and departed.
The companions finished their dinner and made their way to bed wearily. Harran took the first and only watch that night and the rest of the party scolded him for his foolhardiness the following morning. His response to that was that it was his contribution since they had all done more than their share the previous day.
The morning was grey and humid as they led their horses down to the waterfront. It didn’t take them long to find the barge operator who took them south across the Elgar River. Once on the other side, they mounted their horses and moved inland. The trail here was not very well worn, and the fog sweeping in thick gusts off North Lake made the going extra difficult. As the hours passed, they veered slowly away from North Lake. The fog thickened to the point that even sounds became deadened. Even their horses’ hooves seemed to echo from far away.
“Are you sure this is the right path?” asked Zylor after what seemed like hours of silent travel. His mood had improved considerably since the previous day and the disguise spell was not required in this thick fog, so he was more sociable than he had been in a long time.
“I think so,” said Sherman. “At least, I’ve been following a trail of some sort. With no sun, it’s hard to say exactly which way we’re heading. We’ll be camped outside for a couple of days on our journey south until we reach Stilling. It’s the closest town to the Plains of Grief.”
“Maybe we should take a momentary break to rest the horses and eat,” suggested Milena.
“I second that,” said Harran. “For some reason I’m starved.”
The companions stopped atop a small knoll and had a brief lunch break. Kazin didn’t eat much because the burning in his stomach had returned. He ate some herbs and felt somewhat better.
Momentarily they started off again a
nd rode in silence until dark. The fog remained heavy. They set a watch and went to sleep.
Milena had insisted the dwarf get some sleep that night since she had caught him napping several times on his horse. He complied without any objection. The cleric offered to take the first watch and to her surprise, no one disputed her request. She didn’t know whether that was because they expected it of her or assumed it was relatively safe in this thick fog where there was no apparent threat. Either way she could use this watch to claim a future watch under more dangerous circumstances. After all, if they let her do it once, she could do it other times as well.
She woke Kazin for his watch, who in turn woke Zylor, and when morning came, nothing was changed. The fog was still thick about the land and everyone’s spirits were somewhat dampened despite Zylor’s well-prepared breakfast.
They rode quietly for several hours when Sherman called a halt.
“It’s no use. I’ve lost all signs of a trail. It should have been getting wider by now, but it seems to have vanished altogether.”
The companions scanned the ground and noticed for the first time that Sherman was right. The trail had vanished and the only markings were the ones left by their own horses’ hooves.
“Why don’t we backtrack?” suggested Harran. “Maybe we made a wrong turn somewhere.”
Sherman shook his head. “There was no wrong turn to make. I’ve been following the same and only trail available.”
“Maybe you’re mistaken?” suggested Zylor.
“I told you, I—,” began Sherman.
“Look!” cried Milena. She pointed back to where their tracks faded into the mist.
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 28