by Guy Antibes
The Kandannans led them further up the path to a large meadow littered with about twenty or thirty tall conical tents with rings about a third of the way down that seemed to add more headroom. After taking in the scene, all Trak could think about was Tomio’s body left to rot in the middle of the path.
The Toryans and the two magicians were tied up more securely with rope and led into one of the tents. The soldiers pushed them down onto the floor, made of the trampled grass of the meadow. Trak couldn’t help but scowl at the abrupt changes in his life in the past few weeks. He had saved and then lost Valanna Almond, escaped from the Magician’s Guild for the second time, been caught by the Toryans, which was what he intended to have happen, but then the Kandannan army had caught them, and he saw a traveling companion die. He just curled into a ball as much as his bindings would allow and closed his eyes.
He woke up in darkness. Someone had nudged him in the ribs. No one said anything, so it must not have been a Kandannan soldier. He struggled to a sitting position and could make out shapes, humps of darkness in the tent.
“Don’t do anything stupid like your friend.” Trak recognized the accented voice of the Toryan leader. The man took a moment to sit up like Trak. He leaned over and continued to speak softly. “We will be freed soon enough, if we are patient. I am sure some of my people made it away safely.”
“Aren’t you concerned that they might shoot us dead, like Tomio?” Trak felt anger bubble up inside of him, but he tried to keep his voice low, like the Toryan.
“If he hadn’t bolted, he’d be snoring next to you. You do snore, if you didn’t already know.” Somehow the older man found his comment humorous and gave Trak a smile. “Kandannans know better than to kill a Toryan in our forests. They will likely bring one of their wizards to question us in the morning on Santasian movements.”
Trak could barely make out the white teeth of the Toryan. It was hardly the time or place to banter. “I know,” he said, scowling. “If your people are near, I can get us out of these bonds.”
Did Trak detect a shrug in the darkness? “So? We wait before we pounce and pounce we will, once we are freed.”
It sounded to Trak like this had happened before to the Toryans. “Won’t your enemy be expecting something?”
He heard the hints of a chuckle in the Toryan’s whisper. “Don’t worry. We have our own ways. I fear that you and the lady will be subject to harsher interrogation than I. Prepare yourself to tell the truth.”
Trak shrugged in the darkness. What did he know? Nothing, other than a description of what had gone on in Espozia. He had no one to protect on either side of the fight. The thought made him a bit relieved.
He lay back down and went to sleep. A nudge woke him, and Trak looked up into the eyes of a soldier.
“Up!” his captor said in Santasian. Maybe the soldier knew only a few Santasian words. Trak struggled to his feet. A few of the others slept, but Trak nodded to the Toryan leader as he left. Nullia still slept.
The sun had barely made it into the tops of the trees. The soldier pushed Trak towards the back of the camp. Soldiers were just beginning to stir in the crisp early-morning air.
He ended up standing in front of a man dressed in a hoodless dark red robe with a high collar, sat in a camp chair watching the beginnings of a fire. He slowly raised his eyes to Trak. The man had thick, curly dark hair with skin a shade or two duskier than a typical Santasian and more like Asem’s skin tone. His eyes were dark, almost black, and his lips were full, which contrasted with his short soft-looking nose.
Trak looked around and saw a similar cast to the features of the soldiers around him. Another robed man stood behind the seated magician.
“Do you like what you see?” the man said with more than a hint of sarcasm. He looked more bemused than anything after speaking in Santasian.
“I don’t know exactly who I’m looking at. You are an enemy?”
The man looked impatiently out at the camp. “I am Gamaru, a magician of Kandanna. You are a Pestlan? Kandanna is not yet at war with your country. Why are you here?”
“I escaped from Espozia with two magicians from their guild. We made our way south through the foothills to stay away from either side of the Santasian civil war. Toryans caught us and we were bound. Your soldiers will verify that. Nothing else to say.”
“Except that the Toryans bound all three of you as magicians, therefore you are a magician.”
Trak’s heart beat quickly. His bindings had not been removed, but Trak knew how to remove the ropes and probably sink every person in the meadow into a deep sleep as a result. Would it be worth it? The Toryan said his people would be there soon to save them. He bit his lip and continued to think.
“I was a Yellow at the Guild, as was Tomio, who your people killed,” he said.
The man looked at Trak with a bit more hostility. “You are not bound by their absorption oath? How could you three bring yourselves to escape?”
Trak shook his head. “The oath doesn’t necessarily make you a slave. The Magician’s Guild has split into two factions. You probably know that.”
The narrowed eyes of the man betrayed that knowledge. “So you are sympathizers of the Reactionaries?”
So Dalistro had become a Reactionary? Trak shook his head. “We are heading south towards Colcan.” His head began to ache just a bit. “The woman is from Colcan and wishes to return.”
“What about you?” He looked a little too intently at Trak for comfort.
“I’m going with her.” His head began to hurt. He shook it to make the pain go away.
The man standing behind his interrogator shifted his position.
“A truth spell,” Gameru said. “You did rather well, but you aren’t going to Colcan. Gameru’s assistant assumed the truth pose again and muttered the key word. “Now where are you going?”
He didn’t exactly feel trapped, but he didn’t like having to tell the truth to keep his head from hurting. His evasiveness didn’t trigger the spell, however. He’d have to remember that.
“I intended to seek refuge among the Toryans. I learned how to evade the Absorption spell and want nothing to do with your war with Santasia.”
“We will see.” The Kandannan assumed the pose of the Absorption spell and intoned it.
Trak fell to the ground and shut his eyes. His head hurt worse than the truth spell, but he forced his eyes open and smiled, painfully. “I guess I’m now immune,” he said before he fainted.
~~~
Chapter Six
~
Asem swirled the wine around in a clear crystal goblet as he looked at the Dalistro father and son. “Trak is lost to you, I think.”
Misson nodded. “Perhaps. Now that we’ve found that he has escaped from the Guild, I have reached a similar conclusion. I suspect he might be headed to Kizru.” He put his finger down on the map that separated them on the table. “We don’t know exactly where it is, but the magician that contacted my agent in Ozitza said that Trak hadn’t once spoken about joining us.”
“We could use such a talent when we retake Espozia,” the elder Dalistro said. He took a sip from his own goblet. “He is unique.”
“More unique than you know,” Asem said “However, there probably isn’t a better place for him to stay right now, if he can make it to Kizru intact.” In fact, among all of them, they had already concurred that Trak might refuse to join them in the retaking of Espozia. He looked again at his wine. Too bad. With the boy’s help, they could avoid a lot of bloodshed, but then Asem didn’t know much about the Kandannans, and the Dalistros knew less than Asem felt prudent. There were already reports of Kandannans on the Santasian side of the mountains.
“The Toryans will not permit Kandannan forces to freely pass through their lands. That has been the case for centuries,” Garono said.
Misson nodded. “I agree. Whatever you think about the power of Kandanna magic, I am told that it will pale if the Toryans are drawn into the fight.”
&n
bsp; “Then why not enlist them to our cause?” Asem said. The solution seemed easy. If two factions were after the same result, the elimination of the Kandannan forces, they could find grounds for an alliance.
Misson chuckled. “If we tried to invade Kandanna, Santasia would meet the same fate. It has happened before.”
“An independent buffer state. How interesting and how fortunate for the both of you. The Toryans have probably prevented many wars over the years, since they don’t invade the lands on either side.”
“They don’t,” Misson said. “The Toryans are fiercely independent. They have maintained their neutrality, or I should say enforced it for centuries. If they wanted to take over either country, I have no doubts that they could. I went to Kizru once.” He looked down at the map. “It’s somewhere in the South, but I couldn’t point to it on a map. Visitors enter their capital city blindfolded and I was days without seeing as we traveled from the Dianzan road. All I could tell was that we didn’t go over a pass, so the city is on the Santasian side of the mountains.” His finger drew a large circle on the eastern slopes of the mountains that separated Santasia from Kandanna.
“So there is nothing more you can do but hope Ben is persuasive. Your efforts must focus on heading north,” Asem said.
“We will leave a force on the edge of the western forest in case the Kandannans are successful. Any ideas would be welcome, since you have both agreed to help us retake our city,” Misson said as he lifted his wine glass in a salute.
~
Trak woke up in the tent with some of his bindings off. The others still had ropes around their arms and chests. A tray of bread and a pitcher and wooden cups had been laid by the center pole of the tent. He poured out a cup and swallowed as much of the awful, watered beer as he could and then spit the rest out of his mouth. He knew he had to eat and drink to maintain some energy, but the Kandannans didn’t give them much in the way of sustenance.
Nullia still lay down, groggy from her meeting with Gamaru. He had eliminated the wizard’s Absorption spell when she returned to the tent. He had to assume that Nullia had told Gameru everything. The Toryan leader was still under questioning.
Trak looked out of the open tent flap at the soldiers passing by. Now that he had the time, he noticed that he had never seen uniforms like theirs before with maroon tabards and peaked conical helmets woven from thick black metal wire.
Their swords were thicker and curved even more than the Warishian-style blade that Asem had carried with him. Trak wondered about the balance. His Santasian weapons teacher, Gio, had never displayed a Kandannan sword in his collection of weapons. They lacked the reach of a Santasian sword, but in close quarters, he imagined the Kandannan short sword could be rather effective.
Inside the tent, the other Toryans remained clustered in their little group of three, neither helping nor hindering them. They weren’t very friendly and refused to speak with Nullia or Trak, even while Trak fed them the beerish swill and the bread.
They started when a Kandannan soldier pushed their leader into the tent. He looked like he had been beaten up. The man said something in the Toryan language to his fellow Toryans before he turned to Nullia and to Trak.
“I’ll have something to drink, thank you,” he said. Trak complied with his request. The Toryan had no problem downing a full cup of awful swill. He broke some bread apart and put it in the man’s mouth. He looked at Trak and nodded. “You are a better fellow than I had expected.”
Trak blanched at his comment. “What did you expect?”
“A conceited twit. All young magicians I have met before are, if they are powerful, and you convinced Gamaru that you are powerful indeed. He doesn’t believe you are a Yellow.”
The blood rushed into Trak’s neck and he blushed. “I was a Yellow. I didn’t lie to him, but he didn’t ask what my current rank was.”
“And what is your rank?” The Toryan asked.
“He is a deep purple, probably black,” Nullia said as she managed a sitting position. “Feed me, Trak,” she said.
The Toryan’s eyebrows rose. “Black, eh? So you want to go to Kizru? Gamaru was very free with his information, until…”
Suddenly Trak knew what the Toryan had done. “Until he realized that you made him tell you the truth, and then they beat you up! You’re immune to the Absorption spell.”
The man nodded and gave Trak a knowing smile. “You are no dummy,” he said. “If you were a Colcan, you might even qualify as an Innovator, for you must be immune, as well.”
Trak blushed again. “I am, just. I have had good mentors.”
“We will have to talk further, but right now, you need to loosen our bonds.”
The thought of untying his fellow captives hadn’t even crossed Trak’s mind. He looked at his free hand and then went to work.
~
The men around the table all turned their heads to look at Valanna when Misson introduced her to Garono Dalistro’s staff. She wanted to bolt from the room after enduring the glares of disapproval from enough of them to make her offer to attend the meeting a bad, bad idea.
“Valanna is in the unique position of being a powerful magician and not of the Guild,” Misson said.
She looked at Bonigo, the master of the Moziran Magician’s Guild for some level of support. He had proven to be an ally, rather than an enemy. The man gave her a nod and the ghost of a smile. That was enough to lessen the tension that she felt. Asem put his hand over hers and patted it a few times before withdrawing. Kulara would be watching his every move.
Misson continued. “She will travel with Prince Asem and a small regiment of my father’s forces heading northward closer to the coast, gathering arms and men as they move north and then west towards Espozia, ultimately heading into the city from the Estian side.”
“The bulk of the Guild will travel with protecting forces from the west. We will need to be strongest as an overall force as we move up through the central plains of Santasia.”
“What about Riotro?” said a man dressed in a fancy uniform.
“Perhaps we can handle him wherever he shows up.” The voice in the back was vigorous with a marked accent. Valanna looked back at Asem. His presence in the forces against Riotro gave her some comfort. He promised that she wouldn’t be impressed into the Magician’s Guild after the Loyalists put the insurrection down. Together with Misson’s similar promise, she felt that she could use her magic safely.
“We can’t count on retrieving the Bluntwithe boy,” Misson said, “so we will have to make do with the magicians that we have with us. My father has sent a contingent to seek an alliance with the Toryans. We can’t depend on them to help us either, but if the Toryans are neutral, they will still keep the Kandannans from joining with Riotro.”
Valanna eyed Asem, who nodded in agreement. He looked grimmer than at any time since he had left Balbaam. That sent a chill down her spine. This war was no laughing matter. She thought of their previous incursion into Santasia to rescue Trak as an adventure. This civil war didn’t represent an adventure but a serious war where many would be killed. She only hoped that somehow at the end of it, she could reunite with Trak. She strongly felt that they needed to talk.
~
“We are closing in on another party up ahead,” Able Bluntwithe said. He grabbed a stick from the side of the road and stirred up the tracks and looked up at the surrounding forest. “A few hours maybe? If we ride in darkness, we can catch them tonight.” He shivered. “I don’t like riding at night.”
“I’ll have to make a magic light, then,” Neel said. He hadn’t used magic since Galinda died, but he’d be back amongst the Toryans and couldn’t hide his ability to use magic from them. “What do the tracks say?”
“A Santasian-style horseshoe and two I’m not sure of.”
Neel looked over Able’s large shoulder. “Colcanan. They use that zigzag nail pattern. I would guess it is Honor and Rasia with Ben. They’d be safer if I was there when the Toryans capture th
em.”
They mounted again, after downing some provisions, and headed west again. As the dusk turned to darkness, Neel stopped them. He stood, silent for a bit, and then took a deep breath.
“Take two long branches and hold them out.”
Able found two long sticks and pointed them at Neel.
“I didn’t think I’d be doing this, ever again.” He struck a pose and created a fireball and then attached it to the end of the stick and used another pose to fix it.
“Won’t it burn the stick?”
Neel couldn’t resist curling his mouth into a smile. “Magic…” He snapped his fingers. “We do the other, and then we’re off!” He repeated the pose and the power word and held the two magical torches while Able mounted. Once they held their lights, Neel nodded to Able. “These should stay lit until I use a power word to extinguish them. Hopefully, Honor and Ben will recognize the color of the flames and won’t try to defend the group.”
Their ride continued. Neel wondered about the stamina of his horse and that of Able’s until he saw a flickering light up ahead. They rode into a little camp to see Honor and Ben just getting up from sitting at the campfire.
“That is you,” Ben said, narrowing his eyes and staring intently at Neel. “You haven’t aged as gracefully as I would have hoped.” The older mentor turned his head and called out. “You can come out Rasia.”
A tall woman dressed as a scout came out from the trees, an arrow still nocked in the bowstring. “This is?”
“My half-brother,” Honor said. She didn’t bother to greet Neel. “Able Bluntwithe?”
“I am. Haven’t seen you since you first set up your shop in Pestledown.”
“It looks like just about everyone knows me,” Neel said.
“Nellus Fidelia,” Rasia said. “You’ve changed. I remember meeting you when I was a young girl in Bitrium. I’m Rasia Menta”