by Guy Antibes
Trak gazed across the river. The Ozitzians hadn’t torched their own houses, even though they had passed through smoke-filled Estian streets. Would the Warishians start riots when they eventually took over Pestle? He wished he could have spent more time with Asem talking about Warishian intentions, but the prince always diverted the subject away from Pestle.
He sat down on a curb with the others as they pondered what to do to cross the river. No boats scuttled back and forth this far north.
“If we wait until dark, I can ferry us across,” Trak said. “All I need is some food.”
“All we need is money,” Melia, a Green said. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with the dark hair and dusky skin of most Santasians. “My family lives over there.” She lifted her chin towards Ozitza.
Trak smiled. “My own purse was taken from me along with my possessions, however, Borega can fund us for a bit.” He lifted the purse from a large pocket in his pants. “The question is will anybody sell us anything?”
“Over there,” Melia said. “I doubt if much trading is going on in Estia, just rioting and robbery.” She sounded like she just didn’t care.
The rest of them sighed. Their way of life had just been stripped of its dignity. Their choices seemed to boil down to joining Riotro in imposing magician-based tyranny on Santasia or taking flight.
Nullia looked at Trak with narrowed eyes. “You said ‘ferry’?”
“I learned a few things in Colcan,” he said. “I’m pretty much an Innovator, I guess, with Strength’s help.”
“Strength?” Melia said. “You look strong enough to me.” She furrowed her brows.
Nullia laughed. “Strength is a man’s name. He’s a retired magician who doesn’t like to follow the rules very much. I imagine he hasn’t changed?”
“Not since I left him in Mozira.”
“Mozira!” Nullia said.
Trak proceeded to tell them a condensed version of his experiences in Colcan, including his escape with Ben. “So, all we need is a platform of some kind. A door will work, anything that will allow us to keep from falling in the river. All I know is how to get nineteen stories high in the air, but I imagine you must know other heights.” Trak was happy to see Nullia nod her head. “Two or three stories high might be all we need to get over to Ozitza and then we can head over the eastern forests and go far enough south to safely change direction to Mozira.”
Tomio, a dark Yellow, rose to his feet. “Give me some of your coins and I’ll get us some food. I suggest that we find a less conspicuous place to wait until dark.”
Nullia stood. “I agree. Take another with you once we find our hiding place.”
They all joined Nullia and began to walk along alleyways. Most of the Estian houses in this district were intact, but there were few inhabitants. Tomio discovered an empty carriage garage. It looked like anything of value had been taken when the inhabitants fled.
Melia found the door open to the adjoining house. “We might as well wait until we leave in comfort,” she said, calling across the alley from the barn.
“Go ahead,” Trak said. “I’ll build a platform from what I can find inside here.” He let the others all go while he found a few tools left behind and dismantled a stall large enough to make a platform that they could all use. By the time he had nailed the boards together, fashioned a post to lean on while he posed for wind, and installed leather loops for the riders, Tomio returned and called him into the house.
Melia and another Yellow had fired up the stove and were cooking bacon and eggs. Nullia and Tomio were making packets of the food to take with them.
“We’ll leave some money behind and hope the owners are back to grab it rather than looters,” Nullia said. “I can’t just take things from these people.”
Trak took a few pieces of bacon and finished off an apple while he watched them work. “Then we should see what else we can pay for that we don’t think we’ll be able to get on the Ozitzan side,” Trak said.
He left them in the kitchen and roamed through the house. He noticed a few valuables that the occupants had left behind, but he found no reason to take their possessions. He found the door to a basement and lit a globe and descended down the stairs. A rack of old clothes hung up in the basement would provide them with warmer clothing without taking the better clothes left behind upstairs.
After piling them up, he enlarged the light globe that he had created and began to roam around through the boxes and trash the owners had accumulated. He found a wardrobe of sorts in a corner and opened the door. Tiny points of light looked back at him as he had found an ornate set of armor. The metal hadn’t rusted, so it had been polished recently enough. He moved the plates around and found a sword, a long knife and a crossbow tucked away in the back.
No bolts for the crossbow could be found, but he extracted the sword and gave it a few swings. The hilt had been polished, but the blade looked old, and the balance wasn’t the best. Still, a sword and a knife could provide them with some physical protection, and that provided a lift to Trak’s confidence.
He grimaced when he remembered bandits jumping Honor, Malena and him on their way out of Santasia on his first escape. Still, a sword at his side would make looters think twice about attacking them. He had agreed with Nullia’s suggestion that they shouldn’t overtly use magic unless their lives depended on it.
He lugged his booty upstairs and plopped it on the kitchen floor. “Coats, cloaks and daggers,” he said, as he picked up the weapons. “These are old, worn cast-offs, so I thought they would help us fit in better while we run through Ozitza.”
“Good thinking,” Nullia said.
“I don’t know how to use that thing,” Tomio said. “I have never held a knife in my hand other than to cut food during my meal since I was a child.”
Trak grinned. “I’m no child, but I know my way around a blade. We don’t want to advertise that we are magicians, right?”
“Right!” Nullia said. “It’s getting darker and we’ve got some food in us. We kept some more bacon and some eggs for you, Trak. Hurry and eat, so we can go fly across the river first thing before dawn.”
Trak didn’t object. He finished off the pile of warm food on his plate and felt much better. Either the drugs were wearing off, or he was simply famished. It didn’t matter since Nullia should be able to fly them across the river all by herself, once he trained her how to do it.
~
“How much longer?” Valanna said to Misson Dalistro as they sat in the captain’s large cabin. “How do you expect me to learn anything while this ship rocks to and fro?” She put her elbows on the table and propped up her chin in her cupped hands while she closed her eyes. Her shifting stomach didn’t help her think any better.
Misson laughed and looked at his father, Garono Dalistro, head of the dispossessed government of Santasia and now head of the Santasian Loyalists. Garono lifted his head from the book in his hands and shook his head smiling. “Not long, Valanna Almond,” Garono said. He looked out the many paned windows in the back of the ship. “Tomorrow at noon, I’d say. We are passing Palia Point.”
Misson went to the window and gazed out. “I must admit, I’ll be glad to land in Nikia and get going again. Fleeing is not something I enjoy.”
“Nor I,” Valanna said. She had enough sailing and riding in carriages. Unfortunately, she didn’t have anyplace else to go. Where were Asem and Kulara, she thought? Bitrium certainly didn’t have a hold on her. Of all the places she had stayed, the Dalistro mansion had been the best, until the revolution. She wished that Trak had made it on the ship, and she continued to feel responsible for his demise, whatever that was. Their relationship never had a chance to develop. She bit her lip at the thought. At least when she thought of him, her stomach seemed to settle and ache a little differently.
The door flew open as Captain Glasanda entered the cabin. “I am sorry to disturb all of you, but a boat intercepted us from Palia Point with a message.”
Garo
no set his book aside and stood with his arm out. “Let me read,” he said. His face frowned as he read, and then he squinted his eyes a bit as if concentrating on the words. He thrust the message into his son’s hands. “Read, Misson. Good news and bad.”
Misson bowed to Valanna. “I will read this so both of you know the new information.” He glanced at his father, who nodded his assent.
Senior Dalistro,
Espozia is lost to the rebels. They have taken over most of Estia including the city’s center. The Magicians Guild is behind the revolt, but there is a schism in the guild and many magicians have fled, heading south to Mozira. Riotro is purportedly leading a contingent of magicians to recapture them, but there is fighting north of Gorinza and it appears that Riotro has been defeated at this point. Only a few Moziran magicians have left the southern guild to join Riotro. This is the good news.
We have just learned that the Kandannans are assembling two forces at the Lizanti Pass and the Dianza Pass. That means an army to take southern Santasia from Dianza and an army to take the North from Lizanti. After you left the city, Riotro announced his alliance with the Kandannans. Our armed forces are assembling from all over Santasia in Gorinza for a push north and in Mozira to push west towards Dianza.
We await your arrival in Mozira to finalize our counterattack.
General Adolphus Niamo
With the Gorinza Loyalist Forces
Garono sat down and put his hand to his forehead. “I don’t like this at all. Santasians fighting Santasians is bad enough, but not when we are provoked from outside forces.” He shook his head and looked at Captain Glasanda. “I don’t know what good news there is here other than the fact that we still have magicians on our side. At least the Kandannans are even less magical than us.” Garono sighed and then continued, “Make haste to Nikia. I will write a note to Niamo telling him to continue to assemble forces and get them into a training mode.” He went to the Captain’s desk and scribbled a note. “Here, give this to the men in the boat.”
“What are your plans?” Misson said.
“I will take back Espozia, but you must cut off the Kandannans at the Dianza Pass.”
Misson pulled at his lip. “If only we could get the Toryans to help us.”
Garono barked out a laugh. “As if they would lift a finger to help either Santasia or Kandanna. I’ll be happy if they don’t attack you as you go to reinforce the pass. You may take a few magicians, but I will need most of them to counter Riotro’s renegades. Retaking Espozia must be handled delicately. Glasanda?”
The Captain came to attention and bowed. “Your wish, Senior?”
“Employ all sails. We need to reach Nikia as quickly as we can,” Garono said.
The Captain bowed again and left. They all could hear the barking of orders.
Misson turned his attention to Valanna. “The remainder of our voyage is likely to get a bit more choppy. I suggest that you either go up on deck or remain in your cabin, suitably equipped for an upset stomach. The only advantage of our speed will be that we will arrive in Nikia sooner.”
~
Ben sat on a rickety rocking chair on the porch of the deteriorating manor house that he continued to inhabit while he waited for word on Trak’s success in rescuing Valanna Almond. He picked up the wine bottle from the little table that he had dragged out to the porch and took another swig. The weather was beginning to turn warmer, and Ben didn’t think he could enjoy it while waiting for word on Trak’s hasty rescue mission.
He had restrained himself from walking into Mozira to ask after Trak and limited his exercise to walking about the neglected estate. The sound of a horse riding along the dusty road to the estate preceded the appearance of a rider. His eyes followed the man as he rode along the curving path through the woods towards the estate. Ben stood up to greet the visitor. He would need to be ready with a pose in case of trouble.
Ben’s eyebrows rose as he recognized the man. “Misson Dalistro!” Ben walked down from the porch to greet the man while he dismounted. He would certainly have news of Trak.
“You are the Colcanan magician I was told about?”
Ben nodded. “We’ve met before, although I was somewhat younger.”
Misson laughed, “As was I. Would you mind sharing that bottle of wine with me while I tell you of your protege?”
Ben walked up the stairs to the porch and grabbed the bottle of wine. He’d open up a new one since he had been drinking from the bottle. “Come on in, once you’ve secured your beast.” He walked into the foyer and then into the sitting room. Trak had done a good job of cleaning the place when they arrived, so Ben didn’t have too much trouble keeping the areas where he frequented in presentable shape. It was easy with a judicious use of magic.
He opened a new bottle of wine and poured them each a glass, and then he offered a seat to Misson.
“My father said you’ve been removed from the Board of Deans,” Misson said.
“Some time ago. How is your father? Did he make it out of Espozia?”
Misson smiled a crafty smile, as Ben would interpret it. “He is on his way to Gorinza via Mozira.”
“Did you cross paths with Trak Bluntwithe?” Ben could feel his heart beat a little faster. Why hadn’t Trak returned?
“My ward—“
“Valanna Almond,” Ben said.
“Yes,” Misson cleared his throat. “Trak rescued my father and Valanna, but he fell overboard and was taken, we think, back to the Magicians Guild. Rebels were all over the shore.”
“Overboard?”
“I had my ship waiting downstream from Espozia. Valanna, Trak and my father made it on board, but we were assaulted from the shore and a ship that was moving much faster than us.”
“But Trak—“
“Trak stopped the other ship using some kind of magical lightning bolts. Valanna filled the sails with air, and the lurch that resulted tossed Trak into the river.”
Ben felt his insides lurch much like the ship must have. “We have to save him.”
Misson shook his head. “Too dangerous. The rebels have taken over most, if not all, of Estia right now. Your friend Riotro—“
“No friend of mine.”
Misson nodded. “We’ve just received word that he has the support of the Kandannans, who are amassing on the Dianza and Lanzanti Passes to invade Santasia. My father is joining up with General Niamo to retake the North. It is up to me to seal up Dianza Pass.”
“Use the Toryans,” Ben said.
“We can’t get within a league of them,” Misson said. “We’ve tried before.” He looked down at his cup of wine and then back up to Ben. “Both Santasia and Kandanna have attempted to ally with them, but the little beggars always refuse.”
Ben sat back and took a sip of wine. “Maybe the first thing you should do is to stop calling them ‘little beggars’ and treat them like people.”
In the silence of the room, Misson looked down at the floor with the wine glass in his hand. “Perhaps you can do that.”
“Me?” Ben said.
“You’ve visited them before.”
Ben snorted. “Visiting them is different than leading them against the Kandannans. There are Toryans in the Kandannan forests as well.”
Misson drained his cup of wine and poured another. He held the bottle for Ben, who placed his hand over his goblet. “I’ve had too much already,” Ben said. He pursed his lips and looked at Misson. “How about a deal?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Make retrieving Trak a priority, assuming he is still alive, and I will at least do what I can. It’s not in anyone’s interest, Colcan or Santasian, to have Kandanna invade your country and, even worse, see Riotro attempt to rule Santasia. What a disaster that would be!”
Misson sat up straight. “We agree on that. I will send some men into Espozia to find out what happened to him. Once we know where he is, then we will retrieve him before the fighting starts.”
“As long as he isn�
�t fighting against you,” Ben said. “He will have been administered the Absorption Spell, you know.”
“He escaped from them once. I have no doubts about the boy. He will escape again, and this time I will help him.”
“Very well. I will need some escorts and supplies,” Ben said.
Misson rose from his seat. “Can you leave tomorrow, first thing?”
“I’ve been cooped up in this place for too long, as it is. I’ll be ready.”
~
Rasia looked back at her little group. Asem, Honor and Kulara all struggled to lead their horses over the pass. They had to travel at night to evade the Colcanan guards that helped them their last time through. Honor and Kulara put the entire little garrison into a deeper sleep than they might ordinarily have. Asem followed behind, doing what he could to cover their passage. He would know, as well as she did, that the Colcanans would be chasing them in two directions, one towards Tachium, the Colcanan port, and towards this pass.
She let them catch up to her when she found a suitable resting spot, a small meadow that had the advantage of a high mountain stream. She looked up at the newly-risen moon and figured they could use its light for the rest of their trip over the pass until they reached thick forest again. “It’s time for a break. We have half an hour up to the pass and an hour beyond, and then we can ride in the dark again,” she said.
“How are you all doing?” Asem said. Rasia could hear his teeth chattering a bit in the cold mountain air.
Rasia didn’t mind him taking over some of the burdens of leadership. Asem was a curious man. She looked at Kulara’s expression in the moonlit night. Asem’s wife hadn’t worn a hood like Rasia so she wouldn’t be able to notice Rasia’s eyes on her. Kulara was a very strong woman, in just about every aspect. Rasia didn’t doubt that she could best the woman with blades, of any kind, but Rasia did know that the woman carried knives on her. In any fight, Kulara had a major advantage. She could channel magic through her body, and Rasia had no abilities along that line. Rasia had to admit that she admired the woman, a first for a foreign female.