Mage Hunter Omnibus (Complete 5 Book Series)

by Ty Johnston

  Guthrie glowered at the women. “When have I ever tried to harm you or Kroff?”

  “You did not try to save me when I was wounded,” Zanbra pointed out.

  He chuckled. “If my memory serves, you were not all that hurt.”

  “You didn’t know that at the time.”

  “I suspected,” Guthrie said. “I watched, and you never let go of your sword. If you’re going to play dead, you’ll have to do better than that.”

  “What then?” Zanbra asked. “You free all of us?”

  “I can try,” Guthrie said, glancing around again, “but magic is new to me. You can think what you want, but until a few weeks ago I did not know I had the power to cast spells, or whatever it is I do.”

  Zanbra gasped. “You’re a natural mage.”

  He looked to her. “That’s right. Ildra told me. Until then, I had no inkling of magic in my life.”

  “That makes you powerful,” Zanbra said, “and dangerous.”

  Guthrie chuckled. “You could say that, I suppose. But I never wanted these powers. They’ve saved me several times now, and you and Kroff, but I would give them up if I had the opportunity.”

  “Why is that?” the knight asked, her hooded eyes curious but also suggesting she was not quite believing.

  “Like you,” Guthrie said, “I have no love for magic nor those who wield it. From what I’ve seen, those who make use of it do so for ill purposes.”

  Zanbra nodded.

  “I haven’t quite figured out if the power corrupts them or if those with bad intentions are more drawn to the magical arts,” Guthrie said, “but frankly, I’m not sure I care. I just want to be left alone, to live my life. Unfortunately, that means I will have to leave my homeland. That is, if you and Kroff allow me to leave.”

  Guthrie glanced around then, spotting his fallen mace not far from where he had landed. Retrieving the weapon, he looked around for the knights’ swords, finding one near Kroff but the other missing. He turned his gaze on Zanbra, then realized she was probably hiding her own sword in the shadows behind her. Fine. Let her. If she attacked again, he would not deal with her so nicely.

  Slipping the mace into its belt loop, Guthrie stared up into the darkness above. He could not tell how high was the ceiling, so he sent the floating orb bouncing up and up. The ball of light did not have to travel far, less than a dozen feet. Revealed were stalactites wrapped around a narrow crack in the cavern’s ceiling.

  “I suppose that is where she dropped us through,” he said.

  Movement brought his attention down once more. Zanbra was trying to stand, leaning against the wall to push herself up. He moved forward to help her, but she brushed him away with a snarl and a wave of her hand. Her one leg appeared useless, but Guthrie would not allow himself to be fooled, just in case. Zanbra had been clumsy during her earlier attempt at killing him, but that did not mean she was above acting again to gain a perceived advantage. When she was standing on her one good leg, an arm against the wall holding her up, Guthrie’s glowing light swerved down to the ground near her boots, revealing her long sword resting on the cave’s floor.

  “You almost forgot that.” Guthrie smirked as he pointed out the weapon.

  Zanbra snarled again and bent over with a grunt, lifting the sword. The sergeant watched her movements, ready to spring into action if she should want to fight again. She eyed him for a moment, weighing her options, but then slid the sword into the leather sheath at her side.

  Guthrie nodded. “Smart woman.”

  “Are you going to get us out of here now?” Zanbra asked.

  “Give me a moment to think about it,” Guthrie said. “I’m still new at this, using magic, and I don’t want to accidentally bring the whole mountain down upon us.”

  “Why don’t you simply move us from one place to another. I have seen wizards do this.”

  “I’ve experienced it myself,” Guthrie said. “I think that’s what Verkain or Ildra did to the three of us when we came upon that temple in the mountains.”

  Zanbra nodded but said nothing else, giving the sergeant time to think.

  Guthrie wondered how far he could transport them, if he could. And he wondered where they should go. It did not seem prudent to drop them back onto the mountain trail, for surely the place would be swarming with barbarians. If only he could know what was happening above.

  For that matter, he wasn’t completely sure the Dartague witch had simply opened a hole and dropped them into a mountain cave. For all Guthrie knew, she might have transported the three a great distance, even across the world, but that did not seem right to him.

  He had no way of knowing the answers the any of his concerns, so he decided to set them aside for the moment, Zanbra watching as ideas whirled in his head. If he could not ascertain their specific location, then he would have to trust on instinct to send them someplace, someplace safe. Back to the army camp? No, he felt that was too far, either beyond his power or at least his experience. He wanted something near, someplace with which he felt comfortable.

  Then it dawned on Guthrie he could possibly cast a spell or a ritual or whatever to find out their location. He had heard of some with magic who could send their soul out floating around to spy on others. Could he do something similar? Possibly, but glancing at Zanbra he decided he did not want to make such an attempt. Even if he could somehow leave his body, he did not want his physical self left unprotected with the woman about. He also did not want to try magically viewing a far distance, not knowing if such would leave him at the mercy of those he was with.

  He gave up on spying out their placement and circumstances. No, he would just have to lift them with his mind and plant them elsewhere, but he still had no clue as to where would be a safe place.

  “You’re taking a long time to think,” Zanbra eventually said.

  “I’m trying to decide where we should go,” Guthrie answered. “Any ideas?”

  “Our horses,” Zanbra suggested.

  “There will be Dartague there,” Guthrie said, “even if our horses are where we left them.”

  “The ale house, then.”

  Guthrie’s eyes went wide as he gave forth a short laugh of dark mirth. “You are the brave one, aren’t you? No, the Dartague will most assuredly be at the ale house.”

  “That is the most logical place for the last wyrd woman to retreat after her battle with us,” Zanbra said. “In case you have forgotten, we still have a mission to fulfill. That women needs to be slain.”

  “Are you sure?” Guthrie asked. “What difference will one wyrd woman make?”

  “How do we know she isn’t the last of them?” Zanbra said. “There might be others deeper in the mountains or in other parts of the country, but as best we know, she is the last, at least in this region. It would take away one more advantage the Dartague have over us.”

  Guthrie couldn’t disagree with her, but he was beginning to doubt that he wanted to put his life on the line for a homeland where he was no longer welcome.

  An idea occurred to him. “What if I sent us up the mountain trail a mile or so before coming to the flatlands and the village? The Dartague wouldn’t expect it, I don’t think. The wyrd woman can’t know for sure that I have magic at my disposal.”

  Zanbra nodded. “This would allow us to scout ahead, to sneak up on them. Go on. Do it.”

  The notion made Guthrie smile. Here was a member of the Holy Order of the Gauntlet, a knight who hated magic, yet she was willing to take the benefits of such magic when it suited her. Then he frowned. What choice did she have? To die there inside the mountain?

  “Okay.” Guthrie sighed. He was not sure how to do this, to transport them whole from one place to another. But he would try. “Here goes.”

  Chapter 9

  All it took was a blink. The glow of magic filled Guthrie’s eyes, then he briefly closed his eyes and opened them. He found himself with the two knights on the mountain trail they had crossed during the day. Looking around he recogn
ized the place as a bend in the path not far from where they had tied off their horses. It was still night, the moon beginning to dip. Guthrie guessed no more than a few hours at most had passed since they had dropped into the cave

  Kroff was stretched out to one side with Zanbra standing over him, one hand on her sword’s hilt with the other arm stretched out to help keep her balance as she swayed on the one leg.

  “We should get you a tree branch or something for a crutch,” Guthrie suggested.

  The woman hissed. “Tend to yourself, wizard. I will see to mine.”

  The sergeant shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

  She did not seem to appreciate the irony that she had just been saved by a mage. Now ignoring the sergeant, she dropped down next to Kroff and began to look him over, her fingers running along his armor and body, looking for any damage to the man.

  “I told you,” Guthrie said, “I think he took a blow to the head, nothing more. He’ll come around eventually.”

  Zanbra continued to ignore the sergeant. She reached into a small pouch on her belt, one Guthrie had not noticed before. When her gloved hand came out, she was holding a small glass vial. She tugged the cork topper free and held the glass beneath Kroff’s nose.

  The reaction was immediate. The man sneezed and blinked, his eyes watering. Then he shot up to a sitting position and looked around.

  “Where are we?” Kroff asked.

  Guthrie chuckled. “Now why didn’t you do that before?”

  “Do what?” Kroff asked, looking up at the sergeant.

  “He means me, Kroff,” Zanbra said, returning the cork to the bottle and the bottle to the pouch. “How are you feeling?”

  Kroff glanced about with confusion still plain on his face, then he groaned and grabbed the side of his head. “Feels like a bull just kicked me.”

  “Can you see?” Zanbra asked.

  “Just fine,” Kroff said, “but I’ve the worst headache. What happened?”

  “A wyrd woman crafted a hole in the ground and dropped us through,” Zanbra explained.

  “Then how did we get here?” he asked, waving a hand around.

  Zanbra grimaced and glanced up at Guthrie. “The sergeant here.”

  Kroff looked up. “Guthrie?”

  The woman nodded, as did the sergeant.

  Kroff turned to his fellow knight. “Then you were right. He is a wizard.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Guthrie interjected. “At least not the way you’re thinking.”

  “He’s a natural mage,” Zanbra said. “Just learned about his powers, apparently.”

  Beneath the moonlight, Kroff’s eyes widened to the size of coins as he looked up at Guthrie again. “You don’t say?”

  “People keep acting shocked,” Guthrie said, “but I have no idea why. Apparently I’m supposed to be powerful. So far I’m finding all this more confusing than anything.”

  “If it’s true you’re a natural mage, then you are powerful,” Kroff said. “They are the most powerful wizards there are, and rare.”

  “So I’ve been told,” the sergeant said.

  “It was Ildra who informed him of his magic,” Zanbra added.

  Kroff nodded recognition of the name, then he grunted as he rolled to one side and tried to stand. He would have fallen if not for a quick hand from Guthrie. Helping the knight to get to his feet, the sergeant held Kroff in place, keeping him from falling.

  “I guess I’m still a bit shaky on my feet,” the knight said, then he looked down at Zanbra. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Can’t walk,” she said, nodding toward her twisted leg.

  “Is it broken?” Kroff asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Zanbra said, “but it’s bad off. I don’t think I can walk unaided.”

  Kroff looked to the wizard of the group. “Can you do something for her leg?”

  “I don’t know,” Guthrie admitted. “I could try, but I might make it worse.”

  Zanbra spat off to one side. “I’ll be fine. Leave the leg. I’ve had more than enough help from a wizard for one night.”

  Kroff and Guthrie traded amused glances then, and the sergeant was glad to see his friendship with the older man was still alive. For a while he had feared Kroff a true enemy, but now that seemed not to be the case.

  “But help me stand,” Zanbra said from the ground, thrusting up a hand. “We need to get on with our business.”

  Now steady on his feet, Kroff grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her up next to him. “What exactly is that business?” he asked.

  Zanbra gestured ahead on the trail. “There’s still one wyrd woman needing killed, and I plan to do it tonight.”

  “We need to retreat,” Kroff said, “to heal you. We can come back in a few days.”

  “No,” Zanbra said, her tone showing as the commander of their little group she would brook no disagreement. “The woman could be gone by then, or she might call others to her aid. We finish this tonight.”

  Once more Kroff threw a knowing glance at the sergeant, but all Guthrie could do was shrug. Guthrie would play along for the time being, but he saw little to his advantage in taking part in a suicide mission.

  “All right, Zanbra, you’re the one in charge,” the sergeant said. “How do you want to do this?”

  “I think the same plan as before,” she said. “They believe we are dead, so the element of surprise is on our side.”

  “You want me to sneak in while you two wait in the wings?” Guthrie asked, shaking his head. “You’re not taking in consideration a few factors. You’re injured, for one, and we no longer have our bows. If I go in there, I’m on my own. I can look around, maybe, but we’re in no position for an assassination attempt, and we’re definitely not in any shape for a direct assault.”

  “We are if you use your magic,” Zanbra said.

  There. It was out. The woman hated magic, hated Guthrie, but she was willing to use magic again to her own benefit, to the benefit of the Order, despite her disdain of just moments ago. Perhaps Kroff had been right. Perhaps there was a place for Guthrie within the Gauntlet. Dare he hope? It would mean he would not have to flee Ursia, and it meant a stable position that paid well with some action from time to time, enough to keep him from growing bored. Also, there was the opportunity for the sergeant to stomp out magic wherever he might find it, something that did not bother him. Still, he could not trust Zanbra. He looked to Kroff, who only nodded.

  “We can do this, if you’re up to it,” the Spear said.

  “Possibly,” Guthrie said, “but I’m not sure what to do. You people seem to forget, I’m new at all this. My magic is mostly dumb luck, me wanting and hoping certain things will happen. It seems to work best when my emotions are high, when I’m angry or in danger, and I can’t vouch for its effects.”

  “Have you had any problems with your magic failing you?” Zanbra asked.

  Guthrie thought back, then shook his head again. “No. In all truth, I’ve been very lucky. A few times it’s not worked quite to the effect I wanted, or it’s been a little slow to work, but it’s not yet failed me.”

  Zanbra and Kroff traded looks. “Natural mage,” the woman said. “He is definitely powerful.”

  “Do either of you have any suggestions on how to use my magic?” Guthrie asked.

  “Whatever you did at that Dartague camp with Ildra seemed to work well,” Zanbra said, then smirked. “You thought you had us fooled, telling that tale about starting the fire with some lamps, but the signs were there. It was obvious heavy magic had been at work.”

  “Actually, I did start the fire with lamps,” Guthrie said. “My magic was an accident. That was the first time I’d used magic, and I’m still not sure what spurred it other than the distress I was in and that Ildra had just told me I was a mage.”

  “Why not do the same thing as there?” Zanbra suggested, waving toward the distant Dartague village. “Burn the bastards out.”

  Nodding, Guthrie said, “I can try,
but I didn’t kill all those Dartague at the other camp. I’m sure I killed a handful with my magic, but most of them fled. The same is likely to happen here, and I have no idea what the wyrd woman’s response will be. She might be able to extinguish any flames I create.”

  “Ildra did not,” Zanbra pointed out.

  “True,” the sergeant said, “but I think Ildra had fled at that point, using her magic to take her elsewhere.”

  “Why don’t we try it?” Kroff said. “If the fire is put out, so be it. And if the Dartague run, then we just stay out of their way until they’re gone, or Guthrie can try another spell.”

  “Do you think you’re up to it?” Zanbra asked the sergeant.

  “I can always try.” Guthrie sounded noncommittal, but he was willing to make the attempt. He was interested to see if he could create another wall of fire.

  “Then let’s be on our way,” Zanbra said.

  They moved forward, slow because of the Sword’s heavy limp, Kroff at her side to hold her up. As was almost always the case, Guthrie led the way, playing the role of scout, looking for any barbarian foes on the path ahead.

  Chapter 10

  Their horses had been slain, which surprised Guthrie because the Dartague were usually more practical than to slay animals that could be put to use. Perhaps the barbarian folk did not like the larger Ursian steeds. The Dartague horse Guthrie had stolen was no longer on the scene, but the three Ursian beasts lay on their sides with their throats sliced wide. The saddles were still in place, as was the tack and harness, yet the saddle bags had been emptied. Guthrie wondered if the two warriors he had attacked in the village had passed on word of the sergeant appearing out of nowhere, which might have given the Dartague the notion the Ursians were making use of magic. If that was the case, the deaths of the horses made a little more sense, the Dartague possibly fearing there were protective wards or some such on the animals or the saddles.

  As Zanbra and Kroff slowly caught up with the sergeant, Guthrie moved ahead and looked down onto the flatlands where the village lay. The place was well lit now, and half a dozen warriors were standing at sentry points around the small town. Unlike before, there were also two scouts on horseback riding not far from where the trail ended and the dry grasslands began. Upon spying these additions, Guthrie ducked back, hoping he had not been seen. When no call of alarm went up, he figured he and his companions were safe for the moment.