by Guy Antibes
The woman didn’t seem familiar to Neel, but looked fit and a bit cold-hearted, which made her much less appealing. He expected she knew her job well. She didn’t look like a magician. “Are you in the Bitrium guard?” he asked.
“Scout,” Honor said. “She escorted us out of Bitrium. Ben and I are likely exiled, although I’m not eager to find out.”
“That makes four of us,” Neel said. “They don’t know Able.” He looked at his friend. “We’ve come to help you convince the Toryans to keep from allying themselves with the Kandannans.”
Ben sat back down and motioned for the rest to do the same. Able continued to stand. “I’ll take care of our horses.” He looked around and located other horses.
Neel’s eyes scanned the forest. “We’ll be found soon enough, especially if we stick to this road, which I recommend. The Toryans are skittish enough about visitors.”
“You should know,” Ben said. “You’re half-Toryan.”
~
Finally night had come to the Kandannan camp. Trak and the Toryan scout leader had devised a strategy to escape. Unfortunately, there wasn’t such a thing as an invisibility spell that helped in the dark, but they felt it worth the risk to levitate and use a wind spell to fly away from the camp.
“We’ll just have to take the risk that Gamaru can’t dissipate your spell. We can always keep chanting the spell until we are out of his range.”
Trak’s eyebrows went up. “There is a range to that spell?”
The Toryan leader squinted his eyes and looked away. A moment later he said, “Less than fifty paces. We generally use it to lower all our carriers at once. Your spell was just at the limit of my range.” He looked at Trak. “Now you know how to escape from me.”
It didn’t matter since he wanted to go to Kizru, so he just shrugged. He looked up at the tent. “We can shred the fabric of the tent and then Nullia can get us up in the air. It’s a simple wind spell that will provide the direction… I just face in the opposite direction. I’ll need to stand on someone’s shoulders to make the pose.” He smiled at the leader. “Is that acceptable to you?”
The man jerked his head, “It is. Let’s not waste any time. I will shred the tent, then we all grasp on to the tent pole. Nullia does her spell and since you are adept with wind, you move us in that direction.” He pointed south and a little west.
“What are we waiting for?” Nullia said as she assumed the lift pose.
Their escape happened quite quickly. The shreds of fabric fell around them while Nullia took them high up into the air and then Trak did the rest. He could tell that no one was comfortable flying so high in the air, just clutching on to the thin pole, so when the Toryan said they had gone far enough, Nullia used the spell to descend and they gradually descended, touching down in a field. As they hit the ground, they all fell into a heap.
Trak laughed with relief as they disentangled from each other.
“We will make a camp of sorts here,” the leader said. He led him twenty paces or so from camp and had Trak sit on a fallen log.
“Now tell me your story,” the Toryan said in Pestlan.
Trak didn’t know what kind of tale the man expected. “I’m not sure I know what you want me to tell you.”
“You are the son of Nellus Fidelia, are you not?”
The name didn’t mean anything to Trak for a moment, but then he remembered Honor using Neel’s Colcanan name. How did this man know that? He hadn’t known of a pose that would give a magician parentage information. Should he tell this man? Would the admission be harmful to Trak and his friend?
“Why do you need to know?”
The man squinted at Trak, obviously thinking of a reply. “I can escort you and your friend to the East and the edge of our lands and let you go, or I can kill you, or I can take you to our capital city. I will only take the son of Nellus Fidelia to our city.”
Put that way, Trak didn’t have much of a choice. “My father was Nellus Fidelia, although he now goes by the name Neel Cardswallow. How can you tell I’m related?”
His captor chuckled. “You Pestlans and your last names.” He shook his head and continued, “I used a spell that gauges the flow of magic through your body. Toryans channel magic differently from other races. Nellus is part Toryan, one of the very few. We know he married a Pestlan woman some time ago, and any issue would be about your age. You have Toryan, Pestlan, and Colcan power channels within your body, a very unique combination. It is logical to assume that you have a mixed parentage, and Nellus Fidelia is the only person I know who could have sired you.”
“Don’t Toryans and Colcanans have offspring?”
The man shook his head. “Only once in generations is there issue between Toryans and humans. Nellus Fidelia was the only living mixed breed that I know of and now there is you. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Trak shook his head.
His captor shrugged. “Just as well. I am sure the Elders would like to test your strength. If you promise not to flee, I can let you walk unbound, for the journey is not easy.” He looked Trak in the eye.
“I can speak for myself, but not for Nullia. I won’t flee. I’m not sure what my companion will want to do. The woman would likely return to Colcan.”
“My name is Tembul, and you are?”
“I was given the name Trak Bluntwithe.”
“Trak, then. We use first names, unless we are in a very formal situation. I will send my scouts east with the woman. They will protect her until she is safely on her way to Gorinza. We know that the counter-rebellion is headquartered there, so she can join her other magicians, unless she wishes to return to Colcan. We will feed ourselves and you can tell me of yourself while we walk to Kizru, our capital.”
Trak filled Nullia in on part of his conversation with Tembul, leaving out the discussion of his heritage. “I think it is best if we split up. I can’t go back to Santasia or Colcan,” Trak said.
Nullia nodded her head in agreement. “I don’t need to return to Colcan and will agree to go to Gorinza to help take Espozia back.”
“I wish I could join you, but I think my path is intended to be different. Good luck to you,” he said to Nullia as she left.
After a simple meal of a gruel made from the same grain mix they were able to take with them when they escaped, Trak walked alone with Tembul. He felt exposed, but then he felt that he didn’t have any choice but to move ahead. He decided that he dreaded working with the Magicians Guild, even the Moziran one and Nullia promised that she would get word to Valanna of his survival.
He followed the Toryan as they walked through the forest. Trak wondered at how Tembul could find always find his way. Soon they confronted a large group of Toryans. These were dressed quite differently from the scouts, with linked chain armor and wicked-looking weapons of unfamiliar design, and these looked more like conventional soldiers for a race that Trak had always thought were forest dwellers.
He estimated that there were a few thousand men filing past as Tembul talked in the Toryan language to a man, obviously dressed as an officer. He saw units of scouts, dressed more like Tembul, march along with the uniformed, heavily-armed soldiers.
“I’ll take you to Kizru rather than join my fellow soldiers,” Tembul said. “It is unacceptable to let the Kandannans invade our territory.” A few of the scouts joined Trak alongside the dwindling column, now a line of men pulling along floating platforms loaded with supplies.
“How many magicians are in that force?” Trak said.
Tembul laughed. “All of them have some ability, but maybe a tenth I would categorize as magicians. They are proud to be fighting, magical power or not.”
The Toryans had quite a force, but how effective could they actually be, fighting along such a large front from Norland in the North to Colcan in the South? “Do you rely on scouts to see if there are invaders?”
“There are only two suitable passes for men and supplies between Santasia and Kandanna. We just have to monitor t
he edges of the passes. This army was stationed not far from here. I’m glad we had enough scouts escape from the Kandannans to get our men into the fight. Any person who carries a weapon and strays into our country will be retained.”
Trak put his hand at his waist and realized that he had no weapon. The Toryans could do little to stop him if he was able to strike a pose while he walked unbound. The last of the force had left Tembul and Trak standing by an empty path.
“Let’s go,” Tembul said.
Trak wondered why they didn’t tie him up. He still wondered when he went to sleep. When he woke again, he found himself on one of the floating platforms, now a litter for his body. They had put him to sleep for the entire trip to Kizru, for he rose up on the pallet looking at the white stone walls of a large city. He seemed to be in the midst of a column of people walking and towing other pallets, heading on a paved road towards the city.
“Ah, you have awakened,” Tembul said, as he walked up from farther back of the column.
“You could have told me,” Trak said. “I wouldn’t have tried anything.”
“Now, neither of us has to worry about what you might have done or what you might have seen. You can see the walls of Kizru before you. We will stop once we are inside, and then you can move on your own again.”
“What will you do to me?” Trak said.
“Take you to our king and he will decide. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
Trak gazed upon the city walls. Ornamental designs of swirls and lines ran in horizontal bands between section of smooth stones rising fifty feet or more to the top, allowing someone to climb right up the wall. Crenellations of various heights on the top of the walls seemed more decorative than functional.
They passed underneath an unguarded gate. Tracks ran from huge slots in the wall where the city gates must close, he thought. The city looked much different from Bitrium in Colcan or Pestledown. Other than a wide verge of close-cropped grass about one hundred paces out from the wall, nothing existed on the outside. Trak could actually feel the age of the wall. It seemed rather new, no more than a century or so.
People dressed in bright colors with a large variation in styles. The energy of the people stunned him. These didn’t seem like members of a reclusive race. He could barely believe the difference between the Toryan ebullience and the Colcan dourness. Tembul’s demeanor hadn’t reflected the vitality of the Toryans in the city. The reality contrasted sharply with his inner bias. Even Tembul’s serious demeanor seemed to lighten up on the city’s streets.
“This is Kizru?” Trak said. “I expected something different.”
Tembul laughed. “Good! We have spent much time and effort making sure that the world thought something different. Toryans don’t want the world to spoil our lives as they nearly did in the past, so we are happy recluses.”
“The soldiers didn’t seem that happy,” Trak said.
“That’s the effort I meant. Why would they be happy outside our great city? It lightens my heart to step inside Kizru’s walls.” Tembul spread his arms out and then helped Trak from the pallet.
He could barely walk. “How long was I kept asleep?”
Tembul put a finger to his lips. “Secret. You will not know until you are trusted.”
Trak wondered what would convince the Toryans to give him such trust while he concentrated on keeping up with Tembul. He was out for more than a day, if his stiffness was an indicator. He saw children, but not as many in other cities. Perhaps the Toryans had difficulties having offspring. Tembul had said that Neel resulted from a Colcan-Toryan marriage and that there were few children born.
“Not many children,” Trak ventured. He looked closely at Tembul for reaction to his assertion.
“No. We are not a fertile people. Just enough children to carry on. We treasure each and every one.” He smiled and patted the head of a little girl, playing close by in the street.
Trak walked on observing the faces of the people. He saw few frowns, although they did exist, and he even noticed an argument at a market stall. That made him feel better, for some reason.
His stomach began to grumble. “Could I get something to eat? I don’t have any money, though. The Kandannans took that,” Trak said.
Tembul nodded his head. “Don’t worry. We will go to the palace and change our clothes and eat our fill before we meet with the king.” The Toryan dismissed the scouts that had accompanied them. They shouldered the belongings that they had managed to escape with and headed for the tallest building in the city.
~~~
Chapter Seven
~
Neel woke with two Toryans pointing arrows at him. Honor, Able, Ben and Rasia still slept, but were likewise covered by Toryans.
“We come in peace,” Neel said in Toryan. His two captors’ eyes widened at a stranger speaking their language. “I am Nellus Fidelia and am half-Toryan.” He sat up as the men looked at each other and lowered their bows.
“Our leader isn’t here yet. Wake up your companions. Don’t strike any poses.”
Neel nodded. He would wake up Rasia first, since she would be the most belligerent. He thought that he should move slowly so he wouldn’t give the Toryans any reason to attack. Rasia’s sword lay at her side. Neel slowly moved it away, and then shook her shoulder gently.
“There are Toryans among us!” she cried out as her eyes shot open.
“Pointing arrows at us all,” Neel said as he saw her hand move to where her sword had been. “No swordplay, at least not right now, Rasia. I’d rather travel to Kizru unbound.”
Able, Honor and Ben now sat up looking at the Toryans surrounding them.
“Are they going to kill us?” Able said, his eyes darting from Toryan to Toryan.
Neel laughed. “No. They will end up escorting us all. I don’t quite know the way to Kizru, even though I was raised there.”
Honor made a face. They never were very close as brother and sister, having different mothers. His mother’s and his father’s families always treated Neel as an unwanted oddity.
“Is that true?” Rasia said.
He nodded. “My Toryan uncle escorted me to Colcan when I was ten years old. Luckily, my father accepted me, although my step-mother never did.”
“I accepted you, well enough,” Honor said.
The Toryans looked a little confused. Neel wondered if they spoke Pestlan and laughed again. “A little family squabble. When will your leader arrive?” Neel hoped his Toryan was still up to the task. He hadn’t spoken the language in decades.
“Now.” A man stepped from the forest, speaking in Pestlan. “You are all Colcanans, I see, except for you.” The leader lifted his chin at Able and turned to Neel. “Nellus Fidelia. I had nearly forgotten your story. Do you seek to reunite with your Toryan family? I doubt if they want to see you after all these years.”
Neel blinked slowly as he turned his gaze to the man. “I seek my son who might be headed to Kizru.”
Ben looked astonished. “I didn’t know Trak had escaped from the Guild.”
“He has, and I can’t think of anywhere he would go except through Toryan lands to stay out of Santasia. That’s the thinking, anyway,” Neel said. He looked at the Toryan leader. “The rest of us wish to discuss the political situation with your leaders. The Kandannans are uniting with the Espozian guild master. The Santasian Loyalist government seeks your help.”
The leader snorted. “They aren’t likely to get it, but I will take you to Kizru. Our capital city’s location is unknown, so you will have to agree to be put to sleep as we travel.”
Rasia made a threatening gesture, but Ben put his hand on her arm. “We agree. This is a matter of utmost importance.”
Neel didn’t much care to travel all the way to Kizru. He wasn’t unconscious when he left Kizru as a young boy, so he had the impression that they weren’t that far away from the city. “Give us an hour to prepare and we’ll be off. I want a full stomach, if I’m going to have to travel while sleeping.” H
e bowed his head to the leader.
Rasia scowled, but Ben put his hand on her shoulder. “If it’s the only way for us to get to our destination,” she said. Rasia looked at Neel and Honor and still scowled.
~
“Not far now,” Tembul said.
As they went around a corner, Trak entered a massive flower-filled square with a large white palace behind. It certainly rivaled any building he had seen in Pestle, Colcan, or Santasia, although there was an Espozian church that came closer than anything else. Trak had never seen such architecture. The palace seemed to be molded of sand with curves and few straight angles. It gave a much different feeling than the dark sterile towers of Bitrium. “Our destination?”
Tembul nodded to someone behind him and Trak blacked out.
~
He woke in a large room. People stood around him, but Trak’s mind still rebelled from whatever spell the Toryans had used. His vision cleared, but he suspected that he dreamed, since Ben, Neel, Able, and Honor sat around him.
Ben leaned over and looked closely into Trak’s eyes. He looked angry. “Imagine, using a battle spell on the poor boy to knock him out. I’d like to get my hands on the idiot that did that!”
Battle spell? Trak blinked the haze away in his mind. “Am I dreaming?” he said.
Neel leaned back on a chair at a table. “If you are, I wish you’d wake up. We are all confined to this room.”
Trak sat up. This wasn’t a dream. He stood up and ran his hands down Neel’s arms and blinked some more. “How did you get here?”
“On a horse, most of the way,” Rasia said, walking into his vision. She must have been leaning against the wall behind him. “For a few days, we were carried on litters, I imagine like deer being brought back from the hunt.” She spit on the wooden floor.
“All of you here! I just can’t believe it,” Trak said. He couldn’t repress a grin and hugged his two fathers, Honor, and Ben, but couldn’t bring himself to do the same for the Colcan scout.
They were in a barracks of some kind with bars over the windows, but the room didn’t feel like a jail cell. The walls were stone including the ceiling with large blocks laid over heavy beams. Beds lined the walls on opposite sides and his bed was next to a sitting area dominated by the long table.