Dawn of Destiny: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A New Dawn Book 1)

by Amy Hopkins

  “Brigands. Aye, I recall. They took me gold and all our gems. It was after we passed ye… But… we never did, did we?” Barton shook his head as if trying to dislodge an insect from his hair. “Gus?”

  “He tried to kill Bette. I stabbed him with me sword. Got his shoulder pretty bad.” Garrett stared at the ground, unwilling to meet his kinsman’s eyes.

  “Fuck it to hell,” Barton said, then looked at Julianne. “Sorry, lass.”

  She shrugged. “You’re right. Fuck it all the damn way to hell. This is a shitty situation.”

  Barton ‘s eyes widened, then he let out a loud laugh. Bette chucked a pebble at him, barely missing his head. “You mystics aren’t half as stuffy as ye pretend to be, are ye?”

  “You should see her when she’s in a bad mood,” Danil said. “The things she comes out with would make a dead sailor turn in his grave.”

  Barton snorted, then dropped back into seriousness. “The bloody powers that be up at Craigston will have a blue fit. They’ve lost a lot of their reliance on the mystics—no offense, love—and I don’t know how they’ll take this.”

  “That depends on what they hear,” Julianne said quietly.

  Barton shot his head up, then leaned closer for a look at the purple swelling below her eye. “Ah, the Bitch take my ever-living soul. There’s a mark right in the middle of that mess, a little star. That’s me ring.” He flexed his fingers, showing off the trinket he wore on one finger.

  Julianne probed the indentation. She could feel the little jagged dent in her face. “Don’t blame yourself, friend.”

  “Can’t say I remember any of it, but seems you’re tellin’ the truth, lass. Far as I can tell, we surely were set upon by a group of miscreants, and yerself and yer friends here offered aid where ye could. That’s the tale I’ll be tellin’ on my return and blowed if anyone doubts it, for it’s the truth.”

  “Thank you, Barton.” Julianne’s shoulders dropped and some of the tension went out of her face. “Do you think Gus will be willing to back that up?”

  “Aye, if ye stop yer jabbering long enough for me head to stop thumping,” Gus grumbled. Bette lifted her arms in exasperation as he tried to sit up again. This time she didn’t bother trying to stop him.

  “It’s settled, then,” Barton said. “We want no quarrel with ye, lass. Be appreciated if you catch the fuckers that caused this shitstorm, though.”

  “We will,” Julianne said. Her eyes glittered with anger. “And we will make them pay.”

  Bastian wondered how things had become so twisted. Why should the rearick have to lie on their behalf? They were mystics, they should be trusted above all. They’d done nothing wrong, and if word got out that they’d tried to cover this up, it would be a heavy blow to their reputation as a people.

  Easy, Danil sent and Bastian pulled his thoughts in immediately.

  Aloud, Danil asked, “Is there anything we can do to help you on your way? We’d offer to come back, but under the circumstances, it might be safer if you weren’t around us for now.”

  “Garrett can help me onto me horse,” Gus said. “Seeing as he near took me arm off and all. Oh, pipe down, lad. If what yer saying is true, I owe ye for not taking me head when it came down to it.”

  “You lot be on your way,” Barton said. “Won’t take us long to get back. If Gus starts leaking again, I’ll just send one of the horses back alone. That’ll bring a rescue crew down looking.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for offering to keep this quiet,” Julianne said. “Whoever caused this tragedy was after us. After me, most likely. You were just caught in the crossfire.” She reached a hand out and placed it on the Barton’s knee. “Please, accept our deepest apologies.”

  Garrett helped Gus on his horse, then slapped the nags rump to send her on her way. The group stood watching the two-horse procession leave until they’d rounded a bend and slipped out of sight.

  “We shouldn’t have to run like criminals,” Bastian blurted out when they’d gone.

  Garrett shot him a filthy look and pulled himself up onto his horse. “Easy to say when the blood’s not on yer own hands, mystic.” He kicked his heels and trotted off to wait further down the road.

  Bastian looked to Julianne for support.

  “The world isn’t that simple, Bastian.” She, too, mounted her horse. “We could stay and explain, but that could take days. There might be some who doubt our story, and that could start ill feeling to fester between our people. Others will want to ride out and seek revenge, which could put our own mission at risk.”

  “Our mission?” Bastian asked.

  Whatever Julianne had planned, she’d managed to keep it from her thoughts well enough to hide it from him. He stuck his foot in a stirrup and pulled himself up, moving his horse off at a gentle walk beside Julianne.

  “I planned this pilgrimage long before the New Dawn showed up. However, the man I’m in search of may have more than just the key to unlocking more of my own magic. He was last seen across the Madlands, where the New Dawn group we saw came from. I need to get out there, Bastian. I need to see what these people are doing, and how their leader got such a tight hold over Donna’s mind, seemingly from so far away.”

  “What?” Bastian started. “Donna wasn’t mind controlled. I mean, she had a strong shield, but she acted too normal and calm to have someone in her head.”

  “What I saw in the brief moments I penetrated her shield was anything but calm, and it definitely wasn’t normal. I don’t understand it, but even so, I can see its danger.” Julianne sighed. “Look, I know you think their argument is good. She was persuasive, I get that. What she left out is that there is good and bad in all people. When you have a skill like ours, it’s easy to think we know best, that we can run people’s lives better than they can themselves.”

  “So, why are you so against them?” Bastian asked, a sullen set to his mouth.

  “Because they’re wrong, Bastian. Even when we glimpse the deepest thoughts of a person, we don’t see the full picture. We can’t. And even if we could, even if we could create a utopia where people didn’t fight and everyone was safe, it wouldn’t be right. Do you understand?”

  Bastian shook his head. “What can be more important than safety?”

  “Freedom. The freedom to make choices, even bad ones, the freedom to make mistakes.”

  Bastian made a frustrated noise and kicked his horse into a trot, moving up to ride beside Garrett. Danil dropped back to make room for him.

  “Don’t be bringing yer mood up here, lad. I’ve enough salt fer the five of us,” Garrett muttered.

  “Answer me something, rearick. What’s more important, freedom or safety?”

  “Askin’ me won’t help ye make up yer own mind.” Garrett spat, avoiding eye contact with Bastian.

  “Then how am I supposed to?” the young mystic grumbled. “I’ve spent my whole life locked up in a Temple.”

  “Tell me, boy, why’d the Master’s party suddenly jump from one to three? What happened that made her need two extra bodies with her?”

  “You think she needed me?” Bastian snorted. “I snuck out to see if I could join her. I knew they’d say no if I asked first, and I was sure I’d be sent back when she saw me.”

  “So, you could say… you traded safety for freedom? Seems to me you’ve already made up yer mind.”

  Bastian gaped, realizing he’d walked straight into that trap. He should have read the rearick’s mind before falling for it. Bastian dove into Garrett’s mind, only to find there had been no trap, no tricks. Garrett had simply spoken his mind.

  Bastian rode in silence, thinking over what he’d said.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The delay meant a hard ride to get to the first waypoint before dusk. Designed for rearick travelers hauling goods to the city, the waypoints were set up assuming visitors left in the early morning. Luckily, Julianne’s party weren’t lugging wagons.

  They reached the campsite tired and, at least f
or the mystics, sore. None of the three had ridden recently, though Julianne was in better shape than the others. She helped Garrett and Bette set up the campsite as Danil prepared a fire.

  “Need a hand?” Bastian crouched down next to Danil, offering the other man his sight.

  “Better yet, why don’t you do it?” Danil suggested.

  Bastian leaned over as Danil instructed him. He set up the kindling and wood, then struck the flint to spark the fire. He got it first try. The fire blossomed, chasing away the lengthening shadows and banishing the evening chill.

  “Watch out,” Danil whispered loudly. “If Julianne sees how good you are at that, she'll drag you along every trip.”

  Bastian laughed nervously. “I doubt that. I’m pretty useless out here. It’s nothing like being in the Temple.” He shivered as a cool breeze made the fire flicker.

  “You’ll adjust.” Garrett walked over to drop a heavy pack beside Bastian. “There’s yer bedroll. You reckon ye can handle unrolling it? The piss tree is that one, but I’m not helpin’ ye with that.”

  Danil chuckled as Bastian turned red. “I’ll be fine, rearick.” Bastian picked up his pack and took it to the nearest of the two tents. The soft fabric did nothing to disguise the hard rocks and sharp sticks on the ground below and Bastian groaned, not relishing the thought of laying on it with only a thin mattress to protect his hide.

  “Here, set ours up, too, will ye?” Garrett lobbed two more packs in and Bastian obediently rolled them out, squishing them in side by side. When he was done, he returned to the fire.

  “...and after I saved her hide, she had the nerve to tell me it was my bloody fault.” Garrett stared into the fire, oblivious to Bastian’s return.

  “Perhaps she really did know what she was doing.” Danil’s soft voice reached out over the crackling sticks.

  Bastian slipped into Garrett’s head to get a handle on the conversation. The rearick was tearing himself apart, not just having injured his friend, but his conflicted feelings towards Bette.

  Rearick culture was very traditional when it came to gender roles. Garrett’s tentative attraction to his colleague gave him an urge to protect her, keep her away from danger and the sort of hardships the men faced.

  Though rearick women were no strangers to hard work, and deeply respected for their management skills, they were rarely seen in male-dominated jobs like the guards.

  And yet, he’d seen her fight. He knew she excelled in hand-to-hand combat and could probably beat even him. That caused a discomfort and Garrett couldn’t get to the root of it. Bastian could. His detached view of Garrett’s emotions made it easy to spot. Garrett admired her, even thought she'd be an excellent leader

  However, he also wanted to protect her, keep her safe. His worry was distracting him to the point it was dangerous, and his twisted logic couldn't reconcile the two versions of her.

  Frustrated at his inability to fix Garrett’s problem, Bastian threw a small branch on the fire. “How long until we reach Arcadia?” he asked, hoping to get Garrett’s mind off Bette.

  “Late afternoon, if we travel well.” Bastian’s ploy worked, as Garrett’s mind immediately ticked over to planning the next day. They would leave early, pack quickly and travel through until lunch time, stopping to eat and rest the horses a short while before moving on.

  “Bastian, how long since you passed this way?” Danil asked.

  “Years. I was only nine when I was brought here. I only remember it raining. And raining, and raining…” Three days of rain, in fact, and a wet, muddy climb up the mountain.

  “Lucky it wasn’t snow,” Garrett said. “One year, a cold snap hit right at the end of the season and froze the melting sludge. It got real slippery, and we lost two men that went right over the damn side. ‘Course, one was drunk and the other was tryin’ to sled down the Heights. He might’ve been drunk, too, come to think of it.”

  “I knew rearick ale was bad, but didn’t realize it’d drive a man to suicide,” Danil chuckled.

  Garrett eyed him. “Our ale is the best in Irth. ‘Course, it takes a real man to appreciate it proper. Or even a good woman, if she’s got any taste. Not like the lolly water yer friends drink up the hill. Ours will put hair on yer chest!” He thumped his chest for emphasis.

  “Would you lot stick a sock in it?” Bette’s yell from the second tent made all three men jump, then burst into hysterical laughter. “I mean it! We’re tryin’ to bloody sleep in here!”

  With incredible effort, the laughter ceased, only to start all over again when Garrett mouthed ‘stick a sock in it’ with pursed lips and one hand out like a posh lady.

  “If you three don’t shut up, I’ll send you to sleep where you’re sitting.” Julianne’s threat had a little more weight to it and suddenly, Danil yawned.

  “Oh, shite, did she do that?” Garrett whispered.

  “No, but she bloody will in a minute if you don’t can it.” The side of the women’s tent bounced as something was thrown against it inside.

  With much snorting and chuckling, the fire was banked and vacated. As Bastian tucked himself in, he heard murmuring beside him.

  “The only way you two will be able to work together is if she has your respect, friend. If she thinks you don’t trust her as much as you would any of the men, she’ll come to hate you.”

  “Aye. It’d be easier if she weren’t so damned pretty.”

  Bastian rolled over and slept, only to dream of gargantuan women crushing the houses and streets of Arcadia, all because the men around them didn’t think that they could.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  They reached the gates of Arcadia just as Garrett predicted. The steady ride and short break went without interruption and when they arrived, tired and sweaty, they were waved through the gates without hesitation.

  “Please,” Julianne caught the sleeve of a guard. “I must speak with the Chancellor. Could you let her know that Julianne, Master of the mystics seeks an audience? I’m staying at the Queen’s.” She ducked her head to hide her eyes, then gave the instruction a mental shove, lodging it into his head.

  The guard blinked, then nodded. “My shift ends in an hour, ma’am. I’ll be sure to deliver your message directly.”

  “Thank you, Earle.”

  Earle opened his mouth, intending to ask how she’d known his name, but she was already gone.

  The Queen’s Inn was crowded, but the press of bodies parted for the small party as they entered.

  “I see the general feeling towards mystics hasn’t changed since I was last here,” Danil muttered. He hadn’t been to Arcadia since Adrien had been in power.

  “You didn’t see how bad it got,” Julianne said. She spoke aloud, uncomfortable displaying her power in the crowded room. Danil didn’t have a choice, he needed his magic to navigate the city. If she joined him, though, and if Bastian’s eyes went white as well, she worried the situation would go from uncomfortable to downright hostile.

  “Should we find somewhere else?” Bette asked.

  Julianne shook her head. “We’ll get the same reception wherever we go. Mystics are tolerated in Arcadia now, but we’d best not press our luck.”

  “Well, then, best we’d see if they have room for all of us.” Bette looked questioningly at Garrett and he nodded for her to go. She headed for the bar as the others found a vacant table.

  A few moments later, she returned with a jug of water and a tray of glasses. “Looks like we got here just in time,” she said, taking a seat. “There are two rooms left. You boys will have to share and one of you lucky bastards gets a mattress on the floor.”

  All eyes went to Bastian, who groaned. “Right, I’m the youngest. I get it.”

  Danil chucked him on the shoulder. “Atta boy. You’re learning.”

  A young girl darted up to the table. “Sorry for the wait, ladies, gentlemen. Can I get you some wine, or something to eat? We have a fine cheese platter, or some cold meats if you’re in need of a light meal.”

>   Julianne regarded the pink cheeked beauty. “You’re a little young to be working a bar room, aren’t you?”

  The girl ducked her head. “I’m finished with my schooling for the day and Aunt Grace says it’s the best way to learn the workings, my lady. I’m to have the inn when I come of age. It was my Da’s, but he…” her eyes darted away and Julianne’s heart tore. The people of this city had lost so much in recent times.

  “I’ll take some wine, please, and the cheese sounds lovely.” A quick chorus of voices joined in requesting wine and mead from around the table. Julianne handed the girl some coins.

  “She shouldn’t be working in a place like this,” Bastian muttered as she ran off to fill their order.

  “And what should she be doin’, then? Wasting her time on pretty dresses and boys?” Bette shook her head. “That girl is making her future, and she’ll do well with it if she keeps it up.”

  “Bette, it’s a bar. She’s not even old enough to drink!” Bastian clamped his mouth shut as the girl in question returned, expertly twisting through patrons with a wide tray.

  She set it down and placed the mead and four glasses on the table. “If I’m not mistaken, sir, you ain’t old enough to drink either.” She gave a pointed look at the empty spot in front of Bastian, who hadn’t ordered a drink. “I suppose it’s lucky I’m serving the wine instead of drinking it, hey?”

  Bette gave a whoop of laughter as the girl strode off, head high. “And what did I tell ye? Lass has every right to be workin’ in the business her Da left her, and you’ve no right to be complaining about it. Would ye have said anything if she were a boy instead?”

  The answer was evident by the scarlet blush that crept up his face. “That’s different,” he said without conviction.

  “And what do you think, Garrett?” Bette asked, a dangerous glint in her eye.

  Garrett missed the glint, and the sensible warning that his brain screamed came just a moment too late. “Bastian is right; this is no place for a wee lass like that.”

  “And a wee lad?” Bette leaned forward on the table, glaring.