Highmage's Plight (Highmage’s Plight Series Book 1)

by Aire, D. H.

  Sayer nodded.

  “Oh, leave us then,” Fenn said. “Your attitude will spoil my fun without doubt.”

  Truthsayer met the woman’s gaze, knowing it would forever haunt him as did so much else.

  George glanced at Raven in falc form as she flew across the walled city. From his vantage he couldn’t help but think of it as vaguely medieval. It didn’t have the old elvin character of the official buildings of Edous, the only city-state he had gotten a chance to observe, although observe wasn’t precisely what others likely called it. The Demonlord was taking notice that his carefully stacked applecart was being overturned. The archeologist in him desperately wished he could scan the city and build an appropriate model for future reference, but that would certainly take time he could not afford, not if he wanted to save his friend.

  However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t passively take the images Raven was relaying to his computer staff and match them with the probed memories of the bounty hunter Danvers, specifically the keen recollection of where the brigand had gotten the enchanted blade used to put Balfour to sleep.

  Raven banked, found the street, and circled the large inn Danvers visited, accepting the mission being offered to many willing thugs, who headed in all directions in pursuit of a foreign mage.

  City guardsmen rode toward them as they approached the outer town. They took one look at the snoring elfblood and the ill dressed party and blocked their way.

  The guards edged closer as if they planned to take credit for the capture, then Cle’or, Se’and, Me’oh, and Fri’il drew their swords.

  George grimaced as he said, borrowing Danvers remembered diction. “Gentleman, we’re all that’s made it back. We earned ever silver!”

  The sergeant gestured them to proceed. He and his mounted men followed behind.

  Raven soared overhead as they headed directly toward the destination they were expected to know. George smiled as if delighted to soon be getting his reward. In a way, he would get a reward, though not one they expected but certainly the one they deserved.

  The tavern was filled with men rich or deadly, all here to fawn over the foreigner upstairs who had suborned the city’s leadership and wealth. Truthsayer tossed down another drink and tried not to dwell on the occasional piercing scream that drew worried looks from the Trelorian rabble. It was bad enough that he helped Fenn to use truth against his enemies. He didn’t want to dwell on the Seeress’s eyes, knowing they saw into his soul.

  “Another,” he grunted, not offering to pay. It was the only perk he dared acknowledge since he had sold his soul to Fenn’s venal will.

  The man quickly obeyed, knowing that his life and limbs depended on it. To say a single word before Lord Fenn’s soothsayer had been the undoing of several patrons.

  There was a disturbance at the door.

  “M’lord mage!” the guard sergeant shouted. “They brought the one you seek!”

  Ayandre, Fenn’s sycophant mage sat at the table in the far corner and clapped his hands, “Excellent!”

  Truthsayer looked on as a snoring elfblood was dragged in by a pair of raggedly dressed brigands followed by three others. He sensed something wrong about them.

  “We’ve come for the reward!” the man carrying the mage’s staff shouted.

  That’s when every fiber of Truthsayer’s being burned, LIE.

  He met the liar’s gaze and before he could shout a warning he felt something leap into him. His mouth snapped shut. No, Truthsayer, you will not spoil this day. Truth shall win out.

  His eyes watered. He knew that elvin voice and began to tremble with shame.

  Fenn bent and licked the tears from her face, “Is this the moment you saw in your dreams, Seeress?”

  Her breath ragged from the pain.

  “Yes,” she muttered.

  There was the knock she expected at the door.

  Fenn rose, “What?!”

  His servant went to the door, listened to the guard outside, and nodded, “M’lord….”

  “Yes,” she whispered, thinking this is exactly what she foresaw. Fenn left her and she strained to see the unconscious children across the room. Soon, she thought as her eyes sparkled with vision.

  There were only two guards at the tavern’s kitchen door. The sun was setting and attention was being drawn to the front of the inn as newcomers, apparently come for the bounty, approached. The guards were of Fenn’s personal troops. Gwilliam needed to make their deaths quick and silent if he was to have any chance of success.

  “No time like the present,” he muttered as he left the alley, drawing a throwing dagger even as something dove silently from the sky and knocked the guards down. Instinctively, Gwilliam threw the dagger, taking out the nearest guard before he had a chance to rise.

  The second guard made a rasping sound as he slumped backward as the falc hopped back on the ground and glanced at Gwilliam.

  He raised his hand, “Wise one, I mean you no harm.”

  The pale falc with a black crest cocked its head then shimmered and changed into a tawny furred beast with a black mane before his widening eyes. It nodded toward the door.

  “Well… I take it you’re here to rescue your mage friend then?”

  The beast, which reminded him of a hellhound, nodded.

  He chuckled, “Allow me, then.”

  He opened the door and watched his new found companion bound inside. Apparently the stars were aligning nicely this evening. “You’re mine, Fenn,” he muttered.

  Fenn du Blain’s pet mage, Ayandre, smiled and gestured for the snoring elfblooded mage to be brought before him. “Let us first see if you’ve brought me who we’re paying for, my friend.”

  The man escorting the prize nodded as his companions set Balfour before him.

  The mage rose and said, “That is his staff?”

  “Aye, m’lord,” the brigand leader replied, coming forward and offered the staff to him.

  The mage reached to take it and no sooner had his fingers touched it than it twinkled.

  ‘Engaging mind probe: locked on.’

  He felt time slip, couldn't move, and heard another voice inside in his head. 'Ayandre, how does the sleep spell work?’

  The moment stretched as Ayandre found himself enchanted, his thoughts laid bare, his every evil, petty to major, revealed. The dagger sleep spell and its counter were presented.

  The brigand smiled and spun his staff now tightly gripped in Ayandre’s hand and grounded it against Balfour side.

  The spell rebounded to its maker, who was blasted backward off his feet to the wall. He slammed against it then slumped to the floor.

  The Cathartans drew their swords as George turned to the staring crowd, his staff ablaze with light.

  George smiled and said into the stunned silence, “Now where can I find Fenn du Blain?”

  “Right here!”

  A bolt of power blasted down from the stairwell out of the hand of the elfblooded lord. The blast struck George’s mental shield even as Fenn shouted, “Kill them!”

  The patrons and guardsmen drew swords and daggers and charged forward even as the four Cathartans kicked chairs and tables to trip their assailants while knocking back their hated, itchy caps, freeing their braided hair.

  Truthsayer looked for safety, realizing the mage’s bodyguards were all women. Patrons clashed with them as the human mage positioned himself over the prone body of the still sleeping elfblood.

  “Staff?” George muttered, wondering if he'd failed to break the spell.

  ‘Scanning. Balfour's sleep patterns are returning to norms,’ the computer replied.

  The talisman hanging from Fenn’s neck glowed red as he cast bolt after bolt of power at the human mage to no avail. “Very well,” Fenn shouted with a grimace, “watch your companions die then!” He turned and redirected his fire at Me’oh.

  “Duck!” George shouted. He extended his glimmering shield as he saw Raven’s pale fur appear in the shadows of the hallway behind Fenn.
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  Me’oh dove aside as the blast edged toward her and George sent power flaring to meet it, protecting her.

  Fenn chose a new target and found himself suddenly knocked off his feet from behind. A beast growled and clawed at him. The guard behind him began to rush down the stairs but was suddenly grabbed from behind by a large man who clubbed him with the hilt of his sword.

  Fenn was left to struggle with the beast. He blasted it, sending it sailing through the railing, never noticing the newcomer behind him.

  Truthsayer dove behind the bar and heard a discordant whine. He paled at the sight of a face he never expected to see again.

  The man grinned at him as he crept up on Fenn.

  Don’t, the voice returned.

  Truthsayer cringed.

  You can’t save her.

  He knew that and muttered, “How are you doing this?”

  I’ve summoned the mage.

  He knew there could be only one reason for invoking a Summoning. “You’re dying,” he muttered.

  Sayer, for once you are going to honor the price for truth and not betray it, else I haunt you for the rest of your miserable life.

  Cle’or blocked then lunged as Se’and stepped back and struck the guard sergeant on the back of the head. Cle’or’s opponent, another guardsman, went down as Fri’il put her training to fine use and kicked one of the grimmer denizen’s between the legs. He groaned. She followed up by kneeing him in the head to bring him down.

  “Good girl!” Cle’or yelled as she cast a dagger at a guard who hastily strung his bow. Her blade severed the string. The prospective bowman glanced at the grinning Cle’or and ducked out.

  Fri’il charged the next two cutthroats as George sent more bolts of energy from his computer staff, which shattered tables, showering assailants with splinters. Dozens more chose the better part of valor and fled. Being around mages in a fight was never healthy for bystanders. The presence of Fenn du Blain only made matters worse.

  Se’and saw Raven rising from where she had fallen. A swordsman thought to kill the beast only to have his blade bounce off her hide. George raised his staff high and sent a gust of wind that knocked the man off his feet and through the window that Fenn’s personal troops were about to break through as the easiest egress under the circumstances. However, they were knocked backward as the window exploded in shards of glass scything through them.

  Fenn struggled back to his feet when the sword nearly took off his head. There was a snick and he felt an explosion in his mind. Nearly blinded, he felt the chain holding his precious talisman slip off his shoulder and saw a large hand grab the darkening jewel. There was a flare of golden light as those fingers closed over it.

  “Thank you, Fenn!”

  His knees buckled as his vision cleared, “You!”

  The exiled Gwilliam of Gwed, last member of the deposed royal family, grinned at him as he headed back up the stairs. “Send my regards to your beloved wife!”

  Fenn cursed, struggling to chase Gwilliam even as his men below fell back in disarray. He saw the beast leap from floor to table, returning to him midway up the stairs.

  Grimacing, he struggled with it as its jaws sought to close around his neck and its claws raked his ribs.

  “No, Raven!” George shouted.

  The beast's eyes lost their feral glint and Fenn thrust it aside and raced back up the stairs, shouting uselessly, “Kill them!”

  Raven bolted after him. He glanced behind him and saw the linen chute. He raced to it and dove into it making his unceremonious escape, knowing that without the talisman his gifts were paltry.

  He hit the cold stone floor hard and as he lost consciousness cursed himself a fool; the Seeress had known all along!

  Gwilliam burst through the door to Fenn’s rooms. Fenn’s personal torturer, who doubled as body servant, was leaning over the Seeress and cutting the flesh off her back as she struggled not to scream. As the torturer gaped at Gwilliam in shock, Gwilliam stabbed and ran the man through. The torturer gasped as his bloody knife fell from his lifeless fingers.

  The Seeress glanced back and said coldly, “Save the children. You’ve little time.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve the power to heal them,” she said. “You must take them with you.”

  “Seeress,” the bound girl whimpered. “No, he must save you!”

  “We’re not important,” the boy said.

  “Heal them!” The Seeress ordered. “They are more important than they realize!”

  The jewel glowing with golden light in his hand, he quickly went to the children and bathed them in its light.

  Their flayed skin regrew as their bonds rusted and turned to dust. Every broken bone healed in almost an instant.

  He cut the two children’s bonds. “Don’t let her die,” the half naked girl begged as she struggled to sit up.

  Gwilliam turned and rushed to the young woman’s side.

  “You must not save me,” the Seeress whispered. “You must flee.”

  He held the talisman before her, “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  The talisman’s glow bathed her as tears welled in her eyes. “Please no,” she begged as her body healed, unable to take her eyes off Gwilliam. “Please let me die.”

  He couldn’t. The talisman’s glow faded and she felt feelings she could not name, then rose trying to cover herself with the rags of her blouse. “You should not have done that.”

  He had the children look for something to cover her. “Thanks are unnecessary.”

  The pair pulled off the fallen servant’s livery and shirt, and offered them to the Seeress. The girl used the livery to cover herself.

  She put on the shirt and shook her head, “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why?” Gwilliam asked.

  The Seeress found it difficult not to meet his honest gaze. “I’m going to break your heart,” she lied.

  “What?” he said as Raven entered as beast and scratched at the floor, urging them to follow.

  “We must leave,” the Seeress said brushing past him.

  Chapter 22: Truthsayer’s Commands

  Fenn’s rich and deadly hangers-on and his guardsmen were all groaning or unconscious on the floor.

  Balfour grunted, then yawned as he sat up. He looked around, “Uh, did I miss something?”

  “Bal!” Me’oh shouted rushing to his side and knocked him over as she kissed him.

  Cle’or sheathed her dagger and glanced out the broken window as Se’and said, “Lord Je’orj, you do have a plan for getting us back out of the city?”

  He blinked, “Um, of course, I do. We’re going to get back on our horses and run like hell.”

  “Actually, you will not need to do that,” said an elfblood rising from behind the bar. “I’ll make sure no one tries to stop you.”

  “And who might you be?” George asked.

  “I am the Truthsayer of Gwed. I’m Fenn’s lieutenant, and since he’s not here, as far as everyone else is concerned, I’m in charge.”

  “Why would you help us?” George asked.

  He trembled, glanced around and said, “Never anger a Summoning.”

  Now that was something George could understand.

  Balfour rolled his eyes as Me’oh hugged him, “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”

  George shook his head, “Later.”

  Raven bounded down the steps followed by a young woman and two oddly dressed children, along with the swordsman who had come to their aid.

  “The Truthsayer cannot lie,” the woman said. “In this you can trust him.”

  “Then we’d all best be going!” George said.

  “What do you mean they escaped?!” Fenn shouted as the human healer put ointment on his many deep cuts.

  “Truthsayer ordered everyone to make way, m’lord.”

  “What? When I get my hands on him I’ll kill him!”

  A captain of Fenn’s knelt, not daring to look up from the floor, �
�Once they reached the eastern gate the Truthsayer told us where we could find you and for me to give you a message.”

  “Out with it!”

  “He said he had it on rather good authority that the next time he saw you in the Crescent Lands you would die.”

  Fenn gasped incredulously. “Guards! Ready my carriage! We return to Gwed immediately and you, captain, track down Truthsayer, the Seeress, and Gwilliam of Gwed, and kill them!”

  “But what of the human mage?”

  “Others will deal with him.” Without his talisman Fenn certainly couldn’t. He then wondered how he could prevent his master’s wrath. “Round up two thousand people. I want them executed to remind the populous that I am to be feared.”

  The captain stiffened, uncertain just what to say.

  “Do you have a problem with that, Captain?”

  “M’lord, the Truthsayer ordered the jails emptied and the prisoners exiled. He also ordered all the citizens of Trelortown outside the gates to abandon their homes.”

  “I take it they’ve all gone.”

  “Yes, m’lord, none would disobey your orders.”

  “Then gather the two thousand from the merchants, guilders, and the fine families of this foul city,” Fenn ordered.

  The captain saluted and left, thankful that the Truthsayer was no longer at Fenn’s side. He smiled grimly. The greedy families that had handed over this city to Fenn’s depredations would be winnowed as soon as Fenn was away. Perhaps he could change the course of this truly foul city, where an orphan like him could only find a home in the Guard and simply hope for justice.

  George watched the column of refugees head south with many of the newly exiled former prisoners serving as guardsman and scouts. Truthsayer, Gwilliam, the Seeress, and the two children paused beside them.

  Se’and watched the Seeress closely. “I take it you don’t like what you see.”

  “Yours is a difficult road,” the Seeress whispered.

  “And yours?”

  “I’m bound to Gwilliam now.”

  Gwilliam turned and said, “What?”