Magician In Exile (Power of Poses Book 2)

by Guy Antibes

  “I can make it,” Honor said. Rasia worried about the fatigue in Honor’s voice. She wished that Honor didn’t have to flee, but she knew that her assistance to the Warishians would be discovered soon enough.

  Honor was a woman of strength, but somewhat different from Kulara. The Warish woman had beauty and enjoyed the obvious physical attraction that outshone both Rasia and Honor. Honor was undoubtedly stronger with her magic, but she never showed it nor flaunted her abilities around any other magicians. She had been Rasia’s heroine for a number of years when Rasia learned about her ability to convince the Magicians Guild that she was their creature in Pestle.

  The reality didn’t quite match up with the legend, in her opinion. However, Rasia liked Honor more as a person. She truly felt guilty for not warning the Bluntwithe boy about the danger he faced leveling a section of the quarry wall in view of her fellow scouts. That omission earned Trak his death sentence. Now they all shared exile with the teenager.

  She didn’t really know what to think of her new circumstances. None of them had been up to talking on their forced ride out of Colcan, and they wouldn’t for hours yet, until they were well on the other side of the pass and far off the main path into Santasia.

  “I’ll watch while the rest of you sleep,” Rasia said.

  She looked over her magicians for a few hours rest until she felt it time to continue their journey into Santasia.

  “Up!” she said, nudging Asem with her foot. “It’s time to go.”

  The Warishian jumped up and shook the sleep from his head. “We might as well get this night flight over with,” he said. “Kulara, my dear,” he said in Pestlan, leaning over and helping his wife to her feet.

  They started out again. Honor hadn’t said a word as she struggled to her feet and found her horse. Rasia had shivered a bit when they started, but by the time they made it over the pass, she had opened up her cloak to cool her body. She noticed the others had already done the same.

  ~

  The sun had just begun to paint the tops of the trees when Asem noticed Rasia had led them off the trail. He felt more secure now that they had descended into the forest. He rode up to Rasia.

  “Where are we going?” he said.

  “Your choice. Nikia or Mozira,” Rasia said. She still looked like she could go on and on, but then he noticed the fatigue around the scout’s eyes.

  “Mozira,” he said. “Isn’t that where you think Strength is, Honor?”

  The woman only nodded. “I’m ready to sleep for a week or more,” she said, bent over in the saddle.

  “We’ll rest again in half an hour,” Rasia said.

  Rasia led them on until Asem recognized the spot where they had left the wagon. “Here,” she said. “The wagon is close by. Now that we are in Santasia, we can probably chance a hot breakfast.”

  “I’m going to sleep for a bit first,” Honor said.

  Asem joined them while they all collapsed on the ground. He sat against a tree next to his wife’s sleeping form to set up a watch, but began to nod.

  A nudge woke him up. “Kulara?” he said, with his eyes still closed.

  “I assure you that I am not Kulara,” a male voice replied. Asem purposely kept his eyes shut to repress the feeling of surprise. The man had spoken in Pestlan!

  ~~~

  Chapter Four

  ~

  Trak looked over a peaceful river. His five companions looked very nervous even after he had taken them for a quick trip up and down on their makeshift flying door before they chanced going over water.

  “Let’s get across the river before the sun rises,” Nullia said.

  Trak couldn’t agree more. If archers saw them moving across the river, his little group would have no protection. He nodded to Nullia who stood and struck the pose and said the words that took them up three ‘stories’ in the air. Trak used his wind pose to take them across the river. They started slowly, and as Trak used pulses of wind, they soon reached the other side without a problem. He set them down in a vacant area on the outskirts of Ozitza.

  “Shall we proceed on foot or continue on through over the rest of the city?” Nullia said.

  Melia, the Green Master, got off the contraption. “I’m not going with you.” She grabbed a share of food out of their sack. “I’ll take my chances in Ozitza. That’s where I came from, after all. You don’t have to worry about my joining up with Riotro, though.”

  Trak looked at her disappear in the pre-dawn light. “Anyone else?” He didn’t know if he felt disappointment or what, as their group dwindled down to three.

  “Let’s fly,” Tomio said. “The sooner we leave Master Riotro’s domain, the better. “I can’t help you with moving this door, but I’m with the both of you. I hate Riotro and what he has done to the guild.”

  Nullia nodded. “Fly. I can take us thirty stories in the air. No arrows will reach us.”

  “Then we leave now before the rest of the city awakens,” Trak said. The desertions from his group hurt his feelings, but Trak tried to figure out why. He set aside those thoughts as they began to secure what supplies were left and were soon heading directly west over the northern edge of Ozitza. The poorer side of Espozia looked quite different from Estia. Buildings were smaller and closer to each other along with narrower streets. No wonder he had gotten lost in his one and only foray into the western side of Espozia.

  He stopped as the sun hit them, lighting up their conveyance for all to see far below. “I think we are easier to see, up this high,” he said,

  “Time to get lower, since we are now out of the city.” Nullia made the lift pose and spoke a different word, making their craft descend to a level just brushing the tops of the trees.

  Trak took the time to look east at the city of Espozia. Tendrils of smoke still drifted up over Estia before they headed away from the city. He wondered how Dalistro’s mansion fared. Not too well, he imagined. He nodded at Nullia, and he began to take them further west, and then south. He hoped that Riotro wouldn’t think that they would have tried to escape through the Ozitzan side of Espozia.

  They traveled for another hour at a high rate of speed, until Trak tired of fighting the rushing air. He thought he could always use a shield, but that would just drain his power. Did Tomio have enough power to generate a shield? He dropped them into a clearing in the woods.

  “Can you create a shield?” Trak said. “I get physically tired maintaining my pose in the wind as we move.”

  Tomio’s face told him that the man had never attempted such a thing.

  “I’ll show you,” Nullia said. She assumed the pose and spoke the word that created a shimmer around her.

  The man copied her pose and spoke the word, but the shimmer he created was thin and weak.

  “Use more power,” Trak said.

  Tomio broke the pose. “That’s all I have.” His head hung low with embarrassment and disappointment.

  Nullia put her arm around the taller man’s shoulders. “Don’t feel badly. Any Yellow who can make the air shimmer, as you did, has done well. You have to remember that you are accompanied by two Purples.” She gave Trak a quick look.

  Tomio nodded and gave them both a little bow. “I can only do my best, but please let me continue to travel with you.”

  “Of course,” Trak said. “I need a bit of a rest, anyway. Do either of you know where we are?” He looked at the rise of the land. “I guess we are at the western edge of Santasia.”

  “We are nearly to Toryan territory,” Tomio said. “I grew up a bit to the south of here, but I’ve never ventured so far into the woods. We give the Toryans a wide margin.”

  Trak sat down and took a swig from a wine bottle and re-corked it. “The Toryans I grew up knowing were the subjects of tales created to scare children into behaving.” He made a face and waved his hands, “Behave or the Toryans will get you!” He laughed. “I had visions of green men with long noses and straight black hair hanging down to their dirty loincloths.”

&nb
sp; “That’s far from the truth,” Nullia said. “I have met a Toryan once or twice. They are a bit shorter than Colcanans, but look much the same as us, except they have lighter eyes than the Colcan people. There have been a few Colcanans who have married Toryans in the past and had children, so they are fully human.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing!” Tomio said.

  Nullia gave Trak an appraising look. He couldn’t figure out why. She said, “We can fly above this forest since it goes on, uninterrupted, from here to Colcan. No Santasians will be looking for us, just Toryans. I think it’s worth the risk, and then we can head east to Mozira.”

  “Mozira,” Trak said. He hadn’t had a very notable experience in the south of Santasia, but he didn’t know of an alternative. “If Riotro hasn’t leveled it, I suppose it’s as good a place as any.”

  “We’ll leave in a few hours. I need a bit of a nap,” Trak said, taking another swig of wine and a bit of bread.

  ~

  Asem opened his eyes to look up at an older man. “Strength?”

  “Ben, if you don’t mind. Benium, if you want to be formal. I see Honor and that scout leader with you.”

  “Not to mention his wife,” Kulara said, rising from her blankets.”

  Ben bowed. “Kulara. You made it across the main pass without detection?” He looked at her, somewhat bewildered.

  “No a smaller one used by scouts,” Asem said.

  Ben nodded. “I forgot about that one. We all need to talk. I’m afraid I don’t have any good news.”

  Rasia and Honor joined the rest. They stood and gawked at each other for a bit.

  “I have enough provisions for a good breakfast. I was about ready to stop for a bit, anyway,” Ben said. “We can talk while we eat.”

  Rasia and Kulara quickly prepared bacon, eggs and fried slices of a spicy Santasian flatbread that Ben had brought. While they worked, he told them about meeting Valanna, Misson, and the news about Trak.

  Honor took a plate of food and looked at Asem. “I’ll go with Ben. Toryans respect magicians and I’m not that interested in fighting for the Santasian Loyalists.”

  “I’ll go, too,” Rasia said. “Some Toryans can speak Pestlan, but I don’t know a word of Santasian. We will be in less-civilized spaces, so my scouting skills will be put to better use.”

  Asem had to smile. He would have made the very same decision. “Kulara and I can find our way to Mozira from here. If Rasia can locate the wagon we left behind, we would have some more goods to barter. We are close by. I have less resources than I intended to have until I get to a proper city, and Espozia is hardly proper at this time.”

  Rasia flashed him a grin. “We aren’t far from where we hid it. One of your horses might not enjoy being hitched to a wagon, but you can make it to Mozira. Just be careful.”

  “No need to remind me,” Kulara said.

  Asem put his arm around Kulara and gave her a squeeze. “We can take care of ourselves. I’ll seek out Misson Dalistro and offer him my assistance. Do you think he will take it?”

  Ben raised his eyebrows and nodded. “A non-aligned magician and an experienced leader? I doubt he will refuse you.”

  Asem glanced at his wife. “More lessons for Valanna?”

  She nodded. “She will need them by now.”

  ~

  Misson sat back in his chair in front of the old desk in the seedy house. He had obtained permission to use the manor that Ben used to live in for a few weeks. He had hired men and women to clean the place and restore certain areas with paint and polish. Now it served as temporary headquarters for the Loyalists.

  The papers in his hand spoke of his father’s work organizing the Santasian army’s muster in Gorinza. He looked over at the magician sitting in a newly-cleaned, but still shabby chair. “What do we do with Riotro?”

  Bonigo, a Purple magician and leader of the Moziran guild sat up a bit straighter. “We stopped his little army of magicians twenty miles north of Gorinza. They failed to capture many of us,” the tall spare balding man said. He had a prow of a nose with the barest hint of lips. “I don’t think he was with them. Witnesses saw no evidence of the kind of power he possesses.”

  Misson nodded. “So he is out gathering his real army and Kandanna threatens. I’ve sent the Colcanan wizard to entreat with the Toryans. Hopefully, they can keep the Kandannans in Kandanna.”

  “I would still send troops to the passes. I don’t trust those little devils.” Bonigo made an ugly face when Misson laughed at this statement. “Ben Nomia of Bitrium chided me for calling them names. He thinks he can reason with them.” Misson shrugged his shoulders. “He’s met them, though. I can’t say that I ever have.”

  “Few Santasians have,” Bonigo said. “If he’s successful, we could easily retake Espozia, if it weren’t for Riotro, himself.”

  A serious expression came over Mission. “I don’t want Estia leveled since my home is there; or was, the last time I heard.” He managed a bit of a smile. “I also don’t want Ozitza destroyed; neither does my father.”

  “And why not? The rabble deserves it,” Bonigo said.

  “To become rabble again? My father has it right. We need to find a way to treat them better after all this, or we will be fighting civil war after civil war. Enough of them have had a taste of triumph, and I’d rather that they think of any triumph for the betterment of all Santasia. Riotro or someone like him, and it doesn’t have to be a magician, could whip them into a frenzy easily after this, if they aren’t treated more fairly.”

  Misson didn’t know if Bonigo agreed with him, but it didn’t matter at this point.

  An aide interrupted the conversation. “A Neel Cardswallow has requested an audience.”

  Misson stood up. “Bonigo, we will continue our discussion later today. I must meet with Cardswallow. He has probably come all the way from Pestledown.”

  After pouring two glasses of wine, Misson walked to the door and let Bonigo out. He noticed Neel sitting with another man on the front porch.

  “Neel, please come in.”

  Neel Cardswallow, Trak’s real father, walked into the study. He bowed to Misson.

  The man looked a bit haggard to Misson. He wondered if it was the effects of the voyage or his reason for leaving his home country. “Things have finally become too dangerous for you in Pestle?” Misson said, showing him to a seat at his table. “I have already poured some wine for you.

  Neel nodded. “Thank you.” He took a rather long sip. “You’re right, The King is tightening his noose around the city and the countryside. I’ve brought another with me. Trak’s adopted father, Able Bluntwithe. I thought you and I should meet first. I suppose Trak is about?”

  Misson paused for a bit by taking a sip of his wine and letting it roll around in his mouth. “Trak isn’t here. He was taken by the Magician’s Guild—”

  “I know that,” Neel said, interrupting Misson. “He escaped Bitrium and ended up here in Mozira. I heard you arrived here from Espozi, and I thought he might have accompanied you.”

  Misson looked intently at Neel. “What you don’t know is that he was retaken by the Magician’s Guild after saving my father and a young woman from being captured.”

  Neel sat back and drained his cup. “It seems I’ve missed him again.” He shook his head. Misson could read the disappointment on his face. “I don’t suppose it’s possible to go to Espozia?”

  After shaking his head, Misson spoke, “No. I suggest that you stay here in Mozira for a while and move north with us. Trak seems to come out ahead when captured by whomever. You might be able to help me with planning the defense of southern Santasia. It seems the Kandannans are anxious to conquer us. Riotro, the leader of the—”

  “A Black Master of the guild. I’ve heard of him.”

  Misson pulled down on the velvet vest that he wore. “He has allied himself with the Kandannans. My father has pushed Riotro’s little army of magicians back towards Espozia, but I have reports that the Kandann
ans have poised two armies at southern and northern passes.”

  Neel chewed his lip. “I know Cokasan’s geography well enough. Dianza and Lazanti?”

  After pouring another cup of wine for both of them, Misson nodded. “You do know the land.”

  “I grew up in Colcan. Honor is my half-sister.”

  This was surprising news. “Do you know the Bitrium adept named Strength?”

  A flashing smile lit up Neel’s face for the first time in their meeting. “He was my last teacher.”

  “You… you are a magician?”

  “Was a magician,” Neel said, “When my wife died, I swore it off and turned to learning how to use steel to defend those I love.”

  “And you’ve learned quite a bit about using your wits, as well,” Misson said. He smiled and leaned forward. “I sent Strength to the Toryans two days ago. I hope that they can help us seal the passes. It will save a lot of lives.”

  “If the Toryans are willing, they would be able to do it,” Neel said. “I know the Toryans better than Ben, although I think persuading them to help will ultimately be unsuccessful. Toryans hate outsiders.”

  Misson grimaced. “I know. Why don’t you head east and follow him? If I can get the Toryans to keep the Kandannans out of Santasia, we can defeat Riotro’s forces as long as he isn’t with them. I have the guild at Mozira behind me, and a growing number of Espozian guild members have shown up to help, including more than half of his Masters.”

  Neel rose. “If you can let me know how Trak fares, I’d like to catch up to Ben. He’s the only friend I have in Colcan.”

  After Misson got to his feet, he shook Neel’s hand. “You have no more friends in Colcan. Strength is an exile like your son.”

  Neel pursed his lips. “I didn’t know that. I’ll seek him out and get the full story. If you let me, I’ll get horses for Able and myself and we’ll be gone tomorrow, if that is all right.”

  ~

  After tucking a pass from Dalistro into his saddlebag, Neel and Able walked their horses through the jumbled tent city that circled the little town of Mozira. A man and a woman, picking their way through the haphazard lanes between the tents, stopped in front of him.