“It’s O.K.,” interrupted Milena.
“Hear me out,” insisted Kazin. “Please.”
Milena stopped chewing and nodded.
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Kazin. “I had a problem that the clerics in the Tower of Hope couldn’t heal. Even though you’re a druid, you wouldn’t have been able to help either.”
“How do you know—?” began Milena.
“Just hear me out,” interrupted Kazin. “I was undergoing a change. What exactly that was I can’t tell you right now. But the burning in my stomach was a part of it. I didn’t understand it any more than you do now, but it was necessary in order for me to change. That change happened last night. Now the burning has stopped—temporarily. When it returns, I hope to be ready to deal with it. The condition is more magical than physical in nature. You couldn’t have healed it because there was nothing to heal. If anything, your magical touch brought about the change sooner. I was not ready for it and I blamed you because I was afraid. I temporarily lost control of myself. I’m sorry.”
Milena sat motionlessly for a moment. “You are a complex individual, Kazin,” she said at last. “You have aroused my interest from the start. When I became a druid, I thought I knew all there was to know about you and your companions. I also thought there was nothing I couldn’t heal. I see that I was wrong. I suspect you have a few more surprises in store for all of us.”
Kazin grinned. “You have no idea.”
Milena smiled back. “Apology accepted. Next time I’ll ask if you need healing.”
Suddenly Della sprinted from out of the woods nearby. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Kazin sitting with Milena and smiling. Frowning, she marched over to the magic wielders and reached into a small sack at her side. She withdrew a dead pigeon.
“Here,” she said, practically throwing it into Kazin’s lap. “There’s a note in a tube tied to its leg. You might want to read it.” She turned and sat down under a tree just out of sight of the mage.
Kazin stared after her in bewilderment. What got into her, he wondered?
“She’s jealous,” interrupted the unicorn’s thoughts.
“What’s in the note?” asked Milena. She had noticed the elf’s attitude as well. She suspected immediately what was wrong but was eager to help Kazin concentrate on something else. She would have to have a chat with the elf girl later.
Kazin undid the tube from the pigeon’s leg. He noticed the hole Della’s arrow had made and understood the sacrifice the elf had made to shoot a living thing for a purpose other than food. Elves revered life, and to kill something that wasn’t going to be eaten was almost unthinkable. Della shot the pigeon because it was carrying a message that could very well affect them, particularly Kazin, but by doing so she had to take a life. She had done this for him.
He opened the tube and unrolled the note. “Be ready an hour past noon,” Kazin read. “They are right on schedule. Seven or eight. One mage, one druid.”
He looked at the sky. The sun was just beyond its zenith. “That’s anytime, now,” he said. “I wonder what it means.”
“What what means?” asked Rubin from nearby. He looked over his shoulder nervously.
“What’s wrong?” asked Milena.
“Zylor lost at dice again,” answered Rubin. “He didn’t take it too well.”
Kazin reread the note to the sailor.
“It sounds like it’s describing us,” said Milena thoughtfully. “I seriously doubt any other druids are in the area.”
“We’re headin’ into an ambush!” exclaimed Rubin. “We must be careful!”
“Let’s get together,” said Kazin. “We need to be careful from here on. So far our adversary doesn’t know we’re coming, thanks to Della’s timely interception of the message.” He smiled in her direction but she simply looked away. “Maybe we can utilize the element of surprise,” continued the mage. “Rubin, try to round everyone up. Tell Zylor there might be a battle. That might distract him enough to forget about the dice.”
“You got it, Kazin,” said the burly sailor. He left to gather the others.
Within minutes the companions were assembled and Kazin told them about the note, putting emphasis on the fact that Della had intercepted it. The companions congratulated her heartily. The little elf reddened but said nothing.
The company painstakingly picked their way up the mountainside, while Perenia took the horses by a different route. She and the mounts were soon lost from sight.
After an hour of huffing and puffing, Frosty brought them to a halt. “I sense people up and to our left. Almost all of them are mages.”
“How many?” whispered Sherman.
“Twenty or so,” said the mountain goat. “Let’s work our way toward them and see if we can spy on them from the position of a ledge or something.”
The companions followed the mountain goat and after about five minutes of climbing veered off to the left. Frosty stopped them and cautioned them to remain silent. “I’ll nullify any protective warning shields they might have and see what they’re up to. I’ll be right back.”
Moments later the mountain goat returned. “Bad news, I’m afraid,” he said. “There are more than twenty mages and they’ve got about seven mercenaries guarding them. It appears they are waiting for something, probably the pigeon.”
“Who are they?” asked Sherman.
“They are not ordinary mages,” said Frosty. “They’re all wearing those smoky, grey rings with three quarters of a circle etched into them.”
“That means our shield spells won’t be very effective,” said Kazin, looking at Milena in concern.
“Can we avoid them?” asked Harran. “Why not keep going up the mountain to the source of the lights?”
“For one thing,” said Frosty, “these mages will be warned about us sooner or later, and they will come after us. Secondly, the safest route up the mountain lies through the pass they have chosen to occupy. The mountain is also getting steeper. A short way up it gets too steep for anyone to safely climb. To go higher, we will have to traverse the pass. Either way, we will have to deal with the mages.”
“We are too few to counter their magic,” said Kazin.
“I have a plan that may work,” said Frosty. “My magic can negate any magic within a given radius. If I use that magic, they won’t be able to use their magic, but neither will you.”
“How will that help us?” asked Rubin.
“We have superior fighters,” said Frosty. “Mercenaries fight hard when they are pressed, but most mages are relatively easy to defeat in hand to hand combat. The odds are still against us, but we won’t have overwhelming magic to counteract.”
“As it should be,” said Zylor. “When do we fight?”
“Let me at ‘em,” echoed Harran.
“O.K.,” said Kazin. “We’ll have to take up positions where we can take out several of their guards before they can react. The fewer who oppose us, the better.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” muttered the minotaur.
The companions snuck up to the enemy camp while Frosty explained that in order for his magic to have maximum effect, he had to stand as close to the middle of the camp as possible. He could still fight (he would be back in his original form for the upcoming fight) but he couldn’t deviate far from the camp’s center.
Della selected a position behind a large boulder from which to rake the enemy with arrows. Rubin snuck around to the side and prepared to throw his knives before jumping into the fray with his sleek scimitar. Sherman, Harran, and Zylor chose to make a dash into the enemy camp from slightly different angles, giving the impression the camp was being attacked from several sides at once. Kazin chose a spot where he could attack the other mages, preferring to leave the mercenaries to the fighters of the group. Milena was the only
one of the companions with no apparent duties. Finally she decided to be a spotter and shout warnings to the others if they were in danger of being struck from behind.
With Frosty’s magic, any magic wardings the enemy had in place were useless. Apparently, negation magic was not noticeable unless you knew the magic was not working.
Such was the case as one mage attempted to light a small cooking fire. Several other mages looking on laughed as the mage tried futilely to light the fire using magic. Finally an irritated mercenary came over and used his flint to light the fire. The mages watching this roared with laughter while the unsuccessful mage looked on in embarrassment.
“Now!” cried Frosty. The cry only alerted the companions, the unicorn’s inherent ability allowing him to choose his listeners.
The party of mages never expected the attack. Nevertheless, they weren’t overwhelmed at first. It wasn’t until several mages stood up and pointed their arms to cast a spell that the realization of their lack of magic hit them. They looked at one another in shock. This they hadn’t expected.
Frosty charged into the enemies’ midst, kicking, gnashing, and simply running over the unprepared mages. None could get close to even strike at the unicorn. His speed was enough to keep him at arms’ length.
The mercenaries came up against much tougher opponents than they had expected. Zylor was striking them with his axe and dodging their blows as Sherman had taught him, and the experienced mercenaries were soon outmatched by the overwhelming minotaur.
Harran, who wore his battle helmet, as well as the ancient chain mail he had received from the mage in the past, roared his battle cry and attracted the attention of two nearby mercenaries. He was holding his own, but a sharp cry from Milena warned him of a third attacker who had snuck up behind him. Lunging, he struck the ground in front of him with the ice axe and threw his body into the air. He spun in a wide arc; still grasping the buried axe’s handle; and kicked down his opponents while he spun. He landed on his feet and yanked the axe out of the ground. A mage, who had been the one Milena had warned him about, lay unconscious on the ground. The two mercenaries fared somewhat better, and, though slightly winded, pressed on the attack once more.
Kazin had his hands full. Four mages were trying to surround him and subdue him. Their hand to hand combat skills were less than adequate, and two of them were down within moments with some well-placed blows by Kazin. Another mage attempted to sneak up behind Kazin while he exchanged blows with a third opponent, but Milena’s warning shout made him duck instinctively. He heard a whistle above his head and a ‘thwack’ as his former opponent fell to the ground. The mage who attacked Kazin from behind swore at his miss, raising his staff to strike down at Kazin while he was off balance. He never completed his attack, as an arrow embedded itself in his back. He gurgled and fell, dropping his staff to vainly reach for the offending shaft.
Kazin looked to Della’s concealed location and nodded his thanks. He didn’t have long to relax. Three more mages came running up and embroiled him in a frantic pitched battle.
Rubin jumped into the fray with his scimitar shortly after the others, having expended his other knives. Two mages and one mercenary were felled by his freshly sharpened knives. His fourth knife had missed. Now that he was exposed, a mercenary ran over to finish him off. The scimitar was curved and shorter than the sword the mercenary carried, so Rubin threw himself in close to his assailant. The mercenary half-expected this, and dodged while swinging his own sword low. Rubin succeeded in gouging his opponent’s arm, but the scimitar harmlessly scraped across the mercenary’s chain mail protected torso. Moreover, the mercenary’s sword sliced deeply into the sailor’s chest.
Rubin went down with a grunt and rolled away from his opponent’s down swing. As luck would have it, his fourth knife, which had missed its target earlier, was right beside him. In one fluid motion Rubin grabbed the knife and twisted around, letting the knife go. It flew through the air and embedded itself in the surprised mercenary’s forehead. The culprit was dead before he hit the ground.
A mage suddenly stepped up to the sailor and brought his staff down on the side of Rubin’s head. Stars appeared for a moment and Rubin vaguely remembered Milena crying out and the mage falling on top of him with an arrow in his side. Then everything went black.
Sherman, meanwhile, had to battle an experienced mercenary and because of that opponent’s skill and bravery, he had no choice but to kill him. After that he tangled with a few scattered mages but Della made short work of them, pelting them with arrows. That left him with only one mage to fight, and that match was over before it began. He looked around and spotted a cloaked mage standing calmly by a cook fire. Sherman recognized the mage even though his face was hidden by the hooded black cloak. It was the one who had tried to kill him in the elven forest.
The mage pulled a book out from one of his robe pockets. “You looking for this?” he asked calmly. His calm attitude seemed out of place with the din of fighting in the background.
“What is it?” asked Sherman.
The mage turned the book as if to read it and said aloud, “The Book of Prophesy.”
“That belongs to the Tower of the Sky,” said Sherman. “Hand it over. Your magic is useless now.”
“So it appears,” said the mage, looking around at the carnage of the last several minutes. Suddenly he threw the Book of Prophesy into the cook fire. Instantly it was engulfed in flames, the ancient, dry pages quick to ignite.
“No!” cried Sherman. He sprang forward, brandishing his sword.
The mage laughed. “So you want to do it your way, do you? Then I’ll oblige.” He reached beneath his robe and withdrew a menacing looking sword. It had several sharp teeth along its side, good for cutting through almost anything, including chain mail. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Guardian!” He lunged at Sherman and the warrior barely sidestepped in time.
“Kazin!” said Frosty urgently. “Della is in trouble!”
Kazin threw back his two remaining attackers and was grateful to find the minotaur waiting behind them. “Take care of them, Zylor!” he called. He spun and located Della’s concealed location. She was struggling with two mages.
“No!” cried Kazin, springing to her aid. He frantically looked for Milena who should have been close by, but she was halfway across the campsite, struggling over a body on the ground. She was unaware of the elf’s predicament.
Kazin virtually flew to the elf’s aid. He pounced on one mage and threw him off his feet. Then he grabbed the assailant and threw him headfirst into a tree. The mage crumpled to the ground.
The other mage laughed and held Della tightly by the waist. His free hand held a knife to her throat. He told Kazin to stay put and backed with his prisoner into the woods. Suddenly, a tree branch slapped the mage’s face. Then another limb wrapped itself around his knife hand and squeezed. The mage cried out in pain and his knife dropped to the ground. A moment later Della broke free and raced into Kazin’s outstretched arms.
By now, the mage was wrapped in many tree branches. He shrieked insanely, trying to break free. The tree, whose branches had seemed to come to life, suddenly uprooted itself and walked away, carrying its shrieking prisoner with it.
Milena breathlessly stepped out of some nearby shadows and smiled at Kazin and Della. “It helps to have a little magic now and again,” she puffed. “I never knew I could run that fast,” she added.
“I thought Frosty negated all magic,” said Kazin.
Milena nodded. “I saw Rubin fall and went to examine him. He was hurt quite badly so I called Frosty over. He cancelled his ‘negate magic’ spell so I could heal Rubin. Then I rode Frosty over here so I could give you a hand, and here I am.”
“And you called up the treeman?” asked Kazin.
Milena nodded. “He was closer.”
The three companions heard a loud
clash of weapons and remembered their other companions. They returned to the camp site only to find two men still battling savagely. It was Sherman and a mage with a sword.
“What do you know about a Guardian?” growled Sherman angrily. “I’m tired of being mistaken for this ‘Guardian’ character. Tell me what you know!” He parried a swing by the mage and brought his sword swinging back at the mage in the same motion. The mage blocked the swing and the swords clashed loudly. One tooth on the mage’s sword broke off and went flying.
“You don’t know?” asked the mage, surprised. He was sweating from the fight and light reflected off his hidden features.
“No!” said Sherman, striking at the mage again.
The mage laughed tauntingly. “Ha! You truly don’t, do you?”
“Tell me!” demanded Sherman. He was also sweating and the cuts on his arms and chest bore witness to the mage’s weapon skill. Zylor and Harran looked on, their opponents now vanquished. Frosty stood nearby but didn’t interfere.
Kazin raised his hand in preparation for a spell.
“No!” said Frosty loudly in his mind. He had noticed Kazin’s gesture out of the corner of his eye. “Allow Sherman to work this out. He must fight for what he truly wants to hear.”
Sherman was beyond anger now. The mage’s taunting behaviour only goaded him into making sloppy attacks. He needed to treat this fight like a test. He needed to keep his head. He used every tactic at his disposal, but the mage parried successfully each time.
Then he recalled telling the minotaur that strength alone would not do against an equally strong opponent. Skill was needed to offset the equality. This held true in reverse for an equally skilled opponent who was weaker. He realized strength was his only advantage over this skilled opponent. He was bigger, so he had to make use of this advantage. All he was doing so far was using his skill, not his strength.
The warrior built up a bit of momentum with several quick blows and used that momentum to force the mage back. Little by little, the mage backed up, using his sword only in defence against the warrior’s onslaught.
Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy Page 44