“Who else?” he asked.
“I shall…” Genn replied his young face tanned from days of travel. “Trevan is getting on in years and I think he may need assistance from a Master Healermage who is young, and fit for hard journeying.”
“I’ve travelled more years than you’ve had life Genn,” Trevan growled. Then his austere face broke into a rare smile, “But I’d be right glad to have you along brothermage.”
Maran looked about him, “Any else…the Weathermages have said nothing.”
“Can we trust him Lord Archmage?” asked one directly, bluntly.
Maran stiffened then finally nodded, “We have spoken…his rage is quiescent now.”
He gazed at the knot of Weathermages, “Do not let the King’s anger against me colour your opinion of him. It has been over four hundred years since we have had a blooded Warriormage alive…” he smiled tentatively. “It just takes a little getting used to.”
“Then I shall go,” said Hela immediately, “For I was born of peasant stock and I have not been so long on Glaive that I have forgotten how used to cold and hardship I was. Besides, I feel I owe Healermage Trevan my support for giving me my new life with the mages….”
“Despite your obvious talents you are new to your mantle, Hela,” cautioned Maran. “Are you so set upon this path.?”
She nodded firmly.
“Then I shall go too,” said a deep voice from the very midst of the Weathermages. “Hela is apprenticed to me and where she goes, so do I.”
Maran smiled at his old friend and sparring partner, “So Trenny, in all our years together I have never known you to willingly stray so far from Glaive. Can you not convince your pupil to stay behind instead?”
The High Weathermage shrugged, “She knows her own mind, and as for myself I tire of the books and stuffy atmosphere of Glaive. This jaunt to Thakur sounds just the thing for enlivening my old blood.”
Maran nodded, “Then we have our six.”
He gazed at the remainder of the mages, “I need to speak to these few alone…please leave now.”
*
“Now,” Maran said, once the other mages had gone. “He has called a meeting for later tonight to discuss the route and the course of action. You will all of course be in attendance.” He stared at each mage in turn, “It is important for you to know that the King’s Warriormage Ability is already far advanced. He can do things with it that have previously only been recorded in our most ancient and crumbling texts. I don’t know whether his Andurian blood is the trigger for the growing Ability, or if the King’s Sword is enhancing, focusing his own natural talent. The King’s Sword is after all a Metalmage crafted weapon…” he reminded them, “Remember that such weapons were the foremost weapon of choice of the ancient Warriormages.”
“Will he be safe, lord Archmage?” asked Master Earthmage Theaua.
“As safe as any blooded Warriormage,” replied Maran, “Which means that you treat him carefully and with caution.” He paused, remembering, “Whilst the Warriormage rage possesses him, he is not himself and may act and speak irrationally. If he is so affected, then keep your distance and your own counsel.” He sighed, “I have been learning that particular lesson very well over the past few days.”
“Can the rage be treated, lord Archmage?” asked Master Healermage Genn curiously.
Maran shook his head, “Unfortunately not. It seems peculiar to the Warriormage and it is up to the Warriormage himself to sort it out and rein it in…which may go long ways to explain the old question why the ancient Warriormages and Metalmages kept themselves apart at Rapier.”
“It sounds like a burden to carry,” said Hela carefully. “I am only glad that I was not cursed with that Ability.”
“Yes, the king has the worst of it,” agreed Drayden dryly, “Which makes gaining his trust again the all the more important task.”
“If that is so, then you will have a job ahead of you,” Maran replied. “Already he has rejected the idea of the small mage enclave at Andur’s Keep…” The Archmage met the eyes of the High Earthmage, “It is good that he has some degree of trust in you Drayden, for I do not think that I will be much longer wearing the white robe. The world wearies me, and I see younger, more able men in the High Circle better fit for guiding Glaive.”
All the mages present hastened to speak at that, but Maran waved them silent. “I have been too long upon this world and all my contemporaries are now dust. I will stay to see a fruitful conclusion to this war; however I foresee the High Council will soon be required to elect a new Archmage.”
He paused and for moment he seemed as a king again, “My kinsman grows daily into his strength and power. He will rule well once he has mastered himself and his Abilities. This rage I predict will only be a temporary blight to our lives.” He smiled wryly to himself, “Like the ill-humours of adolescence, Arantur will shed the rage to grow fully into maturity and his kingship.”
“I hope you’re right old friend,” remarked Trenny wryly. “Although it was too many years ago to number, I remember my adolescence well, and how I was a problem and a pain to my family, and all those around me.”
“Yet Arantur has some degree of control already,” Trevan said abruptly. “He is now better focused and resolved. I believe that what he became in that battle frightened him more than he cares to admit. He will work long and hard to ensure that never happens again.”
Maran nodded, “I have seen that already. When he was with me today he spoke like a mature king clear in his mind and strong upon his throne.” Then the Archmage smiled ironically, “Do you remember me telling you how Arantur said that mages ought to go through the three ordeals of fire, hammer and water.”
They all nodded.
He shook his head in amazement at that foreknowledge, “I know that it is hard to accept, but I believe in some fashion he predicted what would happen to himself during and after the battle. It was almost as if he was able to tap into the memories of the ancient Warriormages.”
“That may be part of the Ability,” Drayden said. “We know so little about the Warriormages…”
Maran nodded tiredly, “Then it will be up to all of you to guide and guard him over the next few months. Despite his already advancing magepower he is still a novice Warriormage, and it is up to other mages, whatever their rank and title, to give him the necessary tuition and support.”
He turned and walked over to a small wooden box in one corner of the large tent. Lifting the lid he pulled out a tightly rolled leather parchment held closed by an old, fraying ribbon. Walking back he held out the parchment to Drayden who accepted it curiously.
“High Earthmage Drayden,” Maran said, “I nominate you the leader of these five mages. Into your hands I commit their welfare and safety. I also ask you to take this…one of the Mysteries of Glaive.”
At Maran’s nod, Drayden loosened the ribbon and carefully unrolled the heavy parchment. Inside were several cracked and age-faded manuscripts.
“They are copies of ancient maps of Thakur,” explained the Archmage. “The originals I believe were held at Rapier, but were lost in the burning like the rest of the knowledge of that place. Fortunately for us, these copies were made for Glaive hundreds of years before Rapier’s destruction, and are our only written record of the original exploration of the Province and the Trident Range by the Ancients.”
“Does it tell us much?” asked Trenny, craning his head over the shoulder of the tall High Earthmage.
“Enough,” Maran replied. “The original map was…extremely comprehensive. Indeed much of what is written is totally incomprehensible. I mean does anyone here have any idea what this word means.”
“Mg?” Darven shook his head. “Is it a place name? And this other ‘Cu’? It must be a shortened form of a longer name, or perhaps a place that no longer exists.”
He scanned the text carefully, “And here again… ‘Survey 3519-07’. What is that supposed to mean?”
Maran stared in frustration at the ancient
text, “Sometimes I believe the words are a code of such antiquity that even the memory of it is lost…” He shook his head again, “For all codes there are ciphers which enable the reader to understand them. Unfortunately the cipher for this code was lost in the destruction of Rapier, and these words for us will remain forever a mystery.”
“And of the other maps?” asked Drayden, carefully shuffling the parchments. “Not all seem to be of Thakur.”
“They are more recent ones of Nay Forest,” said Maran. “Drawn by returning Earthmages, for on this trip into Thakur you will need to consult with those at Glade.”
Drayden nodded pleased, “Good! I had very much hoped to meet with the Sages again in this life.”
“Sages?” asked Trenny. “I have not heard of that name?”
Maran smiled, “Normally only the Archmage and those of the Earthmage Ability would know of the Sages…they are unique to that particular discipline.”
Trenny frowned, “We are mages all. Can you not tell us?”
Drayden shook his head, “When you meet them you will be told…not before.”
*
Night had fallen completely, and with the darkness and the cold came heavier snowfalls blanketing the ground, and the canvas tents of the encampment. During the day, a good number of the defensive timber palisades had been successfully constructed, and the night time teams were already hard at work securing and strengthening the completed defenses.
“They will be at it all night,” commented Aran looking out from the opened door flap of the king’s tent. “I do not envy them their work.”
“We will be envying them their warm fires and comfortable tents soon,” replied Alissa, walking up to join him. “All our valuable storage space within the saddlebags will be taken up with provisions, warm clothing and blankets, and gear for the mountains. I predict that there will be a time soon when we will be heartily sick of sleeping in the cold, with only an oiled leather goundsack to shield us from the snow.”
Aran nodded and turned to the young woman.
“If you have concerns then it is not too late for you to back out Alissa. You know that I would prefer you safe behind our lines.”
“You know that cannot be,” she said firmly. “My place is with you. Besides if you fail, what hope is there for the rest of us?”
“All is in readiness Aran!” Darven’s heavily muffled figure loomed out of the swirling snow. Bini, almost unrecognisable in his heavy furs was only a step or two behind.
“The mages have selected their representatives,” he added, whilst brushing the snow from his cloak, “And I have six volunteers from the Guard who are presently readying their gear and mounts for an early start tomorrow.”
He grinned at the memory, “I had a hard time of it trying to cut down the numbers to six. Would you believe that every last man in the Guard, including those who were recovering from massive wounds, put up their hands to go? To be equitable I chose three from Wolf Company and three from the Bears.”
“Who will lead the Wolves with you gone Darven?” Alissa asked.
“Urden,” Darven replied. “He is the best of those remaining and was only lightly wounded during the ambush…besides the Wolves are going to be left out of the next engagement.” He shook his head, “They have instead been co-opted by Captain Maran into teaching those who were absent the ways of how the Thakur fight.”
Aran smiled grimly, “That was my doing. The Wolves fought over and beyond what was expected of them. They deserve some time to rest and recover their strength.”
“They will be soon ready,” Darven said confidently. “Already they are grouching about how unfair it is that they are being left out of the next battle…”
*
“You called a meeting my lord?” Drayden’s voice interrupted their low conversation.
Aran turned and peered into the snowy darkness, “Aye…Drayden. Have you the other mages with you?”
“We are all here,” the High Earthmage replied, striding out of the snow with the five mages at his heels. He turned to introduce them, “Trevan you know.”
Aran smiled warmly at his old friend, “I am glad that you are coming,” he said simply.
Drayden ushered the mages forward, “The others are strangers to you.”
Aran greeted the contingent with a courteous inclination of his head. “Not strangers, Drayden,” he corrected. “I remember these faces from those who came to the Keep.”
“You have a good eye and memory, my lord,” remarked Genn. “I did not think you would remember us.”
Aran smiled and clasped the other’s hand, “I never forget a face, although your name eludes me.”
“Master Healermage Genn, my lord,” introduced Trevan dryly. “Although I am his senior in years, he outranks me in Ability. You have gained a fine Healermage my king.”
Aran nodded and cast his eyes about until he encountered Hela standing over to one side.
“And I remember you, Weathermage Hela,” he said, holding out his hand in greeting. “For the short time I was at Glaive all spoke with admiration about your weather talents.” He smiled and his eyes softened, “I am glad to have you along. I know Alissa will be grateful for some female company.”
Hela bowed, her eyes puzzled at the unforced courtesy and manners of the king.
“The other two are Master Earthmage Theaua, and High Weathermage Trenny,” Drayden said.
“Theaua,” Aran said looking at the slender dark-haired woman who seemed to be in her late-thirties. “This will be a hard journey. Are you certain you wish to join us?
“Of course my lord,” she replied crisply, glancing at Drayden in some amusement. “In fact there is nothing that could have kept me away.”
Alissa intercepted the look directed at the High Earthmage’s impassive face, and smiled. She suspected there was another reason for Theaua’s inclusion in the group.
“And High Weathermage Trenny,” said Aran holding out his hand. “I thank you also for your presence and support. We will have much need of your skills in the coming journey.”
Trenny nodded, but did not take the offered hand. He had his own suspicions of what had happened to the Archmage after the battle, and despite what Maran said earlier, did not yet trust the young Warriormage and King.
Aran saw the emotions flickering across the other’s not quite veiled face and shook his head imperceptibly at the obvious wariness of the Weathermages to him. Aran stepped back, and held open the flap to the welcome warmth of his tent.
“It is cold and dark,” he said. “Will you not come in?”
*
“So we are to go through the forest,” Aran said finally after hearing what the mages had related to him. “Is that wise, I have heard that there are all sorts of dangers there.” He paused and scanned their serene faces, “We at least know what we are facing on the plains.”
“The plains would be quicker,” Bini agreed, leaning forward.
“Unfortunately we have little choice in the matter,” Drayden said simply. “Our destination lies in the very heart of Thakur and the truth of it is that none of us would pass closely as natives of that land.” He shook his head, “Most of us are so fair that our colouring would make us stand out to even the most casual scrutiny. Indeed of all of us here, only Wolf Leader Darven, and Mage Theaua have any kind of resemblance to the Thakur.”
Darven frowned, uncertain if he had been insulted or not, “Are you implying that my ancestry is Thakurian, mage?”
Drayden shrugged, “You may well have such an ancestry Wolf Leader. I mean the Serat were occupiers of our land for a number of generations, and I am certain that many of our women may have been forced during that time.” He stared at the young Guardsman, “But your ancestry is not at issue here. What is at issue is that we will have an impossible time travelling through Erie if we are to be stopped and questioned by every Thakurian who happens upon us.”
He looked up at the others, “We will be of little help to our armies and
the province if we are captured and killed within days of us nearing the border.”
“So what do we do?” asked Aran. “Should we darken our hair and dress like them to avoid notice, or fight every Thakur we meet?”
Drayden shook his head, “That will not be necessary. However we will need to go to Glade, there will be people there who will aid us in our journey. In fact we will most likely have a citizen of Glade travelling with us.”
Aran frowned again, “Aside from providing us with food and gear for the mountains, I cannot understand why we need to add an extra body to the party.”
“The Sages at Glade have peculiar talents my lord,” Drayden said. “I am under oath and word not to speak of them until absolutely necessary. Just take my word that they are crucial to the success of the journey.”
Aran nodded, “Then I must trust your word on this Mage Drayden.” He looked up and met the golden eyes of the Earthmage, “I expect you know your way through the forest,” he asked blandly.
“I have been there once before,” Drayden assured Aran. “However, we have been supplied with maps for Thakur.”
Aran held out his hand, “Please…let me see.”
The maps were duly handed over.
Aran studied the rolls of parchment carefully then finally moved his hand so they could spring back into place. “They are very detailed,” he said at last. “Especially those of the Trident Range, but I don’t understand any of this writing…” He frowned, “There seems to be no roads or towns marked; only odd text and symbols, and strange curving lines.”
“That is because they were drawn by the Ancients, the long-ago seafarers who settled this land.” Drayden explained, “The reason why there are no towns or roads marked is because there were none at that time, indeed the province was wholly wild and unpopulated.”
“They do seem old,” Alissa mused, reaching out to run her hand across the parchment. “But not as old as that surely?”
“I have been told that they are copies only,” Drayden replied. “The originals were lost in the destruction of Rapier.”
Aran looked up at that, his interest caught by the mention of the lost college of the long dead Warriormages and Metalmages.
The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy Page 31