Warriormage: Book Three of the 'Riothamus' trilogy

by Rosemary Fryth

  Andur nodded.

  “Can you tell me anything else?”

  Andur turned towards the east, ‘Your armies have lost a great engagement. Some of the leaders were foolish, and urged all to move beyond their original line of defence.’

  Aran scowled at that, his anger immediate and rising, “I gave them strict instructions.” Then seemingly to take himself in hand he added, “Were there heavy losses?”

  Andur nodded, ‘Two of the infantry Legions suffered heavy casualties. It seems they were overrun by a large elite mounted force. Now they have all withdrawn back to the original line of defence, I believe they plan to stay there.’

  Aran sighed, “Good, I only hope they can hold out.”

  ‘There is some hope’, Andur said reassuringly, ‘The Sages have offered their aid.’

  Aran smiled, “I’m glad they took my advice.”

  Andur bent down, and fed another piece of wood to the fire. Finally he straightened, gazing out into the vast darkness of the plains. Aran turned and followed his ancestor’s gaze outwards.

  “You see something?”

  Andur shrugged, ‘Things move out there, at times I sense their shadows more than see them. I have known for a while that we are being watched.”

  He paused and looked back to the reassuring flames of the fire, ‘When I am in the In-Between, I must always have this fire as my defence.’

  “What’s out there?” Aran asked.

  Andur’s face grew grave, ‘Creatures of nightmare made flesh. To you as a dreamer they are but harmless shades. Harmless too to the unquiet spirits who are held here, but for others, like me who choose to come here, there is peril.’

  Suddenly the Warleader’s eyes widened, he turned towards the fire and taking a handful of embers, threw them straight into Aran’s face.

  ‘Wake! Wake now, kinsman. You are in mortal danger!’

  Aran woke to a heavy burning sensation in his chest, and a tight pressure upon his neck. He tried to yell out, but a strangled whisper was the only noise he could make. Immediately the pressure increased upon his neck, and although it was not yet day, there was enough light coming in from the tunnel entrance to show that whoever meant him harm had no physical body. Flailing out with his arms, and thrashing from side to side, he tried vainly to rouse the others. The early dawn light was starting to dim and cloud in his eyes, when he took all of his magepower, and threw it back at his invisible attacker. There was a sudden howl of pain, and a thump, and immediately the burning pain lifted from Aran’s chest, and the pressure eased from his neck. Lying back upon the cave floor Aran gasped for breath as the others, deep in an unnaturally heavy sleep slowly roused themselves out of their stupor.

  Alissa was the first to wake, and then Darven, the others were not far behind. Immediately they stumbled over to where Aran lay gasping for breath. It did not take them long to find long, angry red welts appearing on his throat.

  “By Andur! How did this happen?” Darven demanded furiously.

  Aran sat up and gingerly touched the painful welts “I think someone was trying to strangle me,” he whispered, whilst trying to ignore the soreness in his throat. “I, I was dreaming…suddenly I woke to this…I lashed out with the magepower, I heard a cry and a thump…then the pain eased.”

  “That smelly old human male is dead,” said Halffang wandering over. “As ordered, my Brethren watched him all night. He did not move until now, when he was suddenly thrown against the cave wall…his neck is broken,” the wolf added.

  Aran and Darven exchanged telling glances at that piece of news.

  “And the other Thakurian?” he asked.

  “Rousing now,” said Bennek yawning, “He was as deeply asleep as the rest of us.”

  “I suspect the hand of the Thakurian Warleader in this,” said Drayden grimly, “The nearer we go to the node, the stronger her influence becomes. I guess the hermit became her tool for this night’s work.”

  He turned to Aran, “We must take turns to watch you day and night, for I am certain she will attempt to strike again.”

  Aran stared at the tall Earthmage, “So you intend on coming with me.”

  Drayden inclined his head, “I had a curious dream last night…about you and ancient Warleader Andur.”

  Aran looked around to see the others all nodding in agreement.

  Aran grinned ruefully, “It sounds as if Andur made it absolutely certain that I would leave none of you behind.”

  “It seems that way,” agreed Healermage Genn, “Now let’s take a look at that throat of yours.”

  *

  The seemingly constant overcast was finally starting to break when the party made a somewhat reluctant farewell to the mine tunnel which so briefly had been their home. Although everyone knew that the next few days were fraught with peril, still all were pleased that they were at last nearing Erie. Aran was not happy about the full inclusion of the group journeying to this their final objective, but he could not argue with the shade of the Warleader, and felt he could not question his insistence that the party travel together.

  Outside the weather was sharp and cold, and with the dense clouds finally lifting, the travellers were immensely cheered to see patches of blue sky and a feeble sun. The first hour past dawn saw the group carefully avoiding the treacherous scree slope, and then making their way down the mountain to meet up with the now fully frozen stream.

  “Where now?” asked Darven, gazing at the barren and snow swept peaks that reared high above them.

  “North still,” replied Drayden, “We're still quite a way from where we break off to climb to Erie.”

  He stared north, and then finally pointed to where the range massed high amongst the breaking cloud, “You can't see Erie from here,” he said finally, “Generally it's in that direction beyond the back of that peak.”

  “How far?” asked Aran, shading his eyes against the sun's glare upon the snow.

  “One, two days march at most,” Drayden reassured the others. “So near that soon we will be close enough to be visible to any observant watcher.” He stared at the others, “It will be a cold march for we can't risk lighting fires. The smoke and flames may be immediately obvious.”

  He turned to Sage Ash, “Can you shield us?” he asked.

  The younger man inclined his head, “I will certainly try, although this new node may not be as responsive to my touch.” He frowned, “I have been having problems communicating with it....I cannot understand it....almost as if it won't tolerate my touch....” He frowned again as he tried to wrestle with the problem.

  “The Warleader?” asked Alissa helpfully.

  Sage Ash nodded distractedly, “Almost certainly. Her presence alone seems to be contaminating the energies of the node....” he looked up to see a circle of concerned faces about him. “I wouldn't worry,” he suddenly said with wry grin, “I believe I can access enough of the node to shield the group, it's just that I hate uncertainty and for me this node is one big uncertainty.”

  Aran shifted his weighty pack more comfortably across his shoulders. “Then let's make a start. The sooner we march the sooner we can make a resolution to all of this.”

  *

  The day wore on, and still the party from the province followed the frozen stream deeper and deeper into the Trident Range. By midday the heavy overcast had been blown away by a brisk westerly wind, which immediately had everyone rewrapping their extremities in lengths of wool and cloth against the plummeting temperatures.

  “I don't know which I hate most,” muttered Genn, as he tried unsuccessfully to wrap his face and neck in a length of heavy worsted wool, “The blizzard, or this wind.”

  “We'll be out of it soon,” said Drayden, his golden eyes visibly watering with the biting wind, “Just as soon as we get around this bend.”

  “It won't be soon enough for me,” declared Theaua emphatically, as she angled herself behind Drayden, using the tall mage as a barrier against the wind.

  Hela turned and laughed,
“Surely you must be getting used to the cold? I mean we've had weeks and weeks of it now.”

  Theaua shivered and shook her head, “All I know is that there'll be no way you'll be able to remove me from a hot tub of water when we get back home. I don't care if I turn into a prune....I've weeks of bone-numbing cold to soak out of this body.”

  *

  “How's the leg?” asked Aran, as he looked back to see the elderly Weathermage’s ungainly attempt to climb around yet another frost-cracked boulder.

  “Stiff,” replied Trenny, “I know Genn has done his best, but I'm certain all this walking is not going to help my recovery.”

  Aran nodded, “The breaks are healed though?”

  Trenny grimaced a little and then nodded, “There's still bruising and swelling. He's Healed the injury but unfortunately even a Master Healermage can't prevent the side-effects from happening.”

  Aran glanced at the darkening sky, “As soon as we stop, you ought to ask Genn to give you some relief.”

  At the head of the group Drayden suddenly paused, and stared hard at the rising peaks beyond them. Silently he took off his pack and sat down upon one of the boulders bordering the icy steam which had now dwindled to only a couple of frozen pools.

  “This is as far north as we go,” he stated finally, “Erie is just to the west.”

  Everyone stopped at that, and gazed up at the encroaching mountains, their snow shrouded peaks wreathed in the pale glow of the setting sun.

  “I can't see it,” stated Kunek as he craned his neck back to stare upwards at the craggy heights.

  “You won't,” replied Drayden, “It's getting too dark now, and Erie is hidden beyond the curve in the mountain.”

  He grinned wryly, “Don't worry you'll soon be seeing enough of it.”

  *

  “You'll not get much closer,” the Scout said glumly as he shifted uncomfortably on the broken ground gnawing at the hard meal biscuit which comprised dinner. “In fact I'm surprised that you've managed to get this far.”

  “I told you we were expected,” Aran replied quietly, “It seems your Warleader has known about us for quite a while now.”

  The Scout's dark eyes narrowed, and his face grew even glummer, “You still won't get closer. Everyone knows that it’s death to look upon the White Fortress. The gHulam's eyes are everywhere and see everything. We'll be dead by nightfall.” His eyes scanned the looming darkness and he shrugged uncomfortably, “They have every advantage up there, I have heard that they possess almost an ancestral knowledge of every rock and path.”

  “Who are they?” asked Aran softly, the darkness and the cold discouraging loud conversation.

  The Scout looked up and met Aran's eyes, “They are the gHulam.”

  Aran’s eyes narrowed, “You’ve spoken of these gHulam several times, but who are they exactly?”

  The Scout shrugged expressively, “No one knows really, but ever since the Thakur have come to this place, the finest of our youngsters, both girls and boys, have been taken away to the White Fortress that your people call Erie.”

  Aran stared at the Thakurian waiting for him to continue.

  “It was always the way,” said the Scout eventually, “That once a child was thirteen winters old, and was seen to be tall and strong, then the seekers of the gHulam would appear at the holding door and ask for the child.” He sighed upon recollection, “The daughter of my track-companion, Te-Gellic, was taken in just such a way ten years ago. Until only recently he presumed her dead to his family and Caste.”

  “Why until recently?” asked Aran curiously.

  The Thakurian flicked a glance towards the hidden fortress of Erie, “About eighteen months ago we all watched a great host of heavily armoured warriors march through Thakur City from the direction of the White Fortress. All the warriors were young men and women of twenty or so winters, and all were lean and strong. We did not know who they were, but then Te-Gellic recognised the daughter of his hearth amongst the throng. It then seemed immediately obvious that these young warriors were those that had been recruited by the gHulam years before.”

  “For what purpose?” questioned Aran.

  The Scout shrugged, “I don’t know, no one dared ask of their purpose, and they were soon gone from Thakur City.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “To the far western plains,” replied the Scout, “When they returned, they were all mounted on the best of the herds.”

  He paused, “Then they all rode back to the White Fortress, since then not a living man or women has seen nor heard of them.”

  “My people have,” said Aran bleakly, “I have had news that my army has fought a major battle against such a force. These fighters may be the gHulam of which you speak.”

  The Scout shook his head, “This cannot be so. There is no way that they could get to your borders without riding through Thakur City, and even if Thakur City could be avoided, then there is no way that they could have come up through the south without being seen and reported by the Scouts and the patrols.”

  “My information is seldom wrong,” replied Aran shortly.

  “Then we will see what tomorrow will bring,” murmured the Scout unhappily, “For if the gHulam are still at the White Fortress then we shall soon know of it.”

  *

  All morning they had laboured upwards, wearily slogging their way through snow drifts, cracked and fractured boulders, and around the broken shale and granite which seemed to make up these mountains. Above them, the shoulders of this part of the range seemed eternally shrouded in cloud, and somewhere, beyond them still, was the enigmatic presence of the fortress of Erie, cloaked and invisible in the lowering snow cloud. By mid-afternoon they paused to eat some dried strips of meat, and the last of the hard fruit and berry biscuits supplied to them so long ago by the mages of Glaive.

  Aran stared upwards at the shrouding whiteness and unconsciously gnawed on his thumbnail. Soon there would be a resolution to all this, and then one way or another it would all be over. At least it was not so cold now with this part of the range sheltered from the biting wind that seemed to blow eternally up the long gullies and gorges they had been following for so many days.

  Above them the cloud moved and roiled, and their clothes were immediately dusted by a brief and light shower of snow. A sudden sharp breeze caressed their faces, and looking up at the touch, Aran at last saw the ever-present clouds part and the walls of Erie loom into view above them.

  “By the Goddess!” breathed Darven in sudden amazement.

  “How will we ever get in?” murmured Alissa, as she too stared upwards at the fortress.

  Aran just stood and stared, shocked and surprised at what he was seeing.

  Drayden stood quietly, his back to Erie, not looking at the fortress, yet understanding the awe that enveloped his friends and companions.

  *

  It had taken over a hundred years for the remnants of the defeated Serat to build the city of Thakur. It had taken them almost twice as long for their finest Makers to construct the White Fortress nearby. Built entirely of white granite on a levelled ridge of the Trident range, the fortress walls seemed to be flawless, and unmarked by seam or line. Shining in the bleakly cold afternoon, the walls seemed to shimmer in the cold light of the feeble winter sun. Not a window or door could be seen, although at this distance there may have been entrances the travellers could not see.

  Aran gazed at the high walls, and wondered again at the race of men who could construct such a building, a building that seemed so dissimilar in purpose and intent to the crass and unintelligent soldiers that he had fought so long ago.

  “Do not judge my people on what you have seen before,” said the Scout quietly, his gaze correctly interpreting the shadows and flickers of emotion on the Free Provincial leader’s face. He turned his eyes up to the glimmering walls above them, “This is what we are. This is our heritage, our hidden self, the self that sleeps in Thakur dormancy.”

  “Until n
ow,” replied Aran quietly, seeing the truth that lay beyond the Scout’s quiet words.

  The Scout nodded, “Until now.”

  *

  By common agreement the group decided not to attempt the walls of Erie that day, electing instead to make another cold camp on the mountainside beside some frost-split boulders that partially hid their camp and small banked fire from prying eyes. Even during dinner the group was silent in the face of the next day’s undertaking, and every so often Aran noticed individuals furtively looking upwards in the direction of the fortress. After they had eaten, Aran pulled Drayden aside and with a worried glance back at the others tried to determine from the High Earthmage exactly what they might face tomorrow.

  “In all honesty I don’t know,” replied Drayden to Aran’s urgent queries. “My last brief visit here was as a bird perched on a rock outside the walls. The eyes and hearing of a bird may be sharp but I heard little at Erie. Most of my information about the invasion came from listening near Thakur city,” he shook his head ruefully, “Your guess is as good as mine as to the reality of what we shall find inside.”

  Aran frowned at that, disliking intensely the tenuousness of their mission and the hidden shadows and mysteries of Erie.

  “Expect the unexpected,” said Trenny quietly, limping across from the fire, “For in this place nothing is usual, and everything is unusual.”

  Aran nodded, “That is true mage, and unfortunately it seems to be the only certainty in our world.”

  “A node is there,” added Sage Ash quietly, his sharp ears leading him over from the fire. “Even though it is corrupted and polluted, its energies still call to me.”

  Aran turned to the young man, “Will you be able to find it once we are inside?”

  The Sage nodded, “I believe the finding will be the least difficult of all, even now I am still not certain how I will be able to cleanse and cover it.”

  “Then we’ll see what tomorrow brings,” replied Aran dismissively, turning away from the others, “If all is now still mystery, then there is no use trying to guess the future. It is unknowable.”

  *

  “It seems deserted,” stated Bennek, as he looked up at the walls towering over him.