Prophecy's Deception

by AS Hamilton

  The other mages at Venshui, where his brother resided, refused to communicate without official approval from their thane, who was in Sal-Cirus, right now. He should have known better, he, too, was forbidden from making unauthorised contact with other mages, but this did not lessen his frustration.

  All signs of the other two mages with Andarin had disappeared. One had been Dematica. The other... The other had injured or killed his brother before slipping away like mist.

  Akileena dropped back to the physical plane. Dematica had been taken by Thane Greyson to track a thief that had killed a smith. How was it that a mere thief could injure a mage? Unless he was more than a thief. The mage scowled and stalked from his quarters in Sal-Cirus. Thane Curtin would want this investigated. And for the first time, Akileena was not only happy to inform him of these new circumstances, but also keen to give his assistance.

  Whoever he was, the thief had attacked the wrong mage and Akileena would see justice dealt.

  Personally!

  Chapter 11

  Day 7 – Late Afternoon

  Khira Ranges

  It was well into late afternoon, and Brynn had given himself over to watching the planes. Sariah did not seem to mind as she led them along the route Brynn had shown her using his talent. For the first hour, he concentrated on removing signs of their passage with talent. Considering the sandy, rocky landscape near the creek, it had not been an exhaustive task. Now, his thoughts turned inward; who was the mage that had raced to Dematica's side and what had happened to him? Had he injured him? Killed him? He hoped not, his issue had been with Dematica, no one else.

  Brynn chastised himself. He should have been aware of the other mage's presence long before he had interfered in his confrontation with Dematica. Sometimes he still felt like the child Kassan had proclaimed him all those turns ago when he first went to her for training. He had spent two sennats travelling to her mountain home, and his first meeting with her had made quite an impression. Kassan had seemed exceedingly tall as she looked down at him, her erect posture suggesting turns of discipline. A Ko-renti warrior, Kassan's orange-gold and red-flecked eyes had sparked with amusement, though not a trace of smile curved her lips. Brynn remembered her sword most of all, the blade almost as tall as he was. The warrior had seen him looking at her sword and she had said, 'That is not for you, yet.' At twelve turns, he had been very impressionable, so when she followed this comment with, 'Why, you are only a child!' What confidence he'd had was crushed.

  Belon and Keysjhon had treated him as an adult. They spoke to him as one and gave him responsibilities. They said he would still be a child when he became an active mage and would have to make adult decisions, and so, they treated him thus. The problem was that a child could afford to make mistakes, whereas he could not. Kassan's remark had been a painful reminder of his lack of experience.

  'Ah, but age means nothing when experience be the tutor.'

  Brynn smiled briefly as he remembered Sarre's response right after Kassan's humiliating statement. Sarre was always able to boost Brynn's mood irrespective of how many times he missed his target or lost the practice battles.

  Brynn frowned and shook his head. For a moment, it had seemed as if Sarre had really been here repeating that advice. He sighed. Already, he missed his friend. Sarre always told Brynn that no one ever really fails, they just learn things the long way round on occasion.

  In this situation, Sarre would advise that hindsight was always better used as a lesson and not as a reason to brood. He could not change what had happened, nor control those he interacted with. He could not help, nor change, that the other mage had surprised him and had entangled himself in the confrontation.

  Concerning Toormeena's revelation, Sarre would have told Brynn to focus not on what he was not, but on what he was. Toormeena had also said he was integral to The Prophecy. He would be Torahn, one half of a ruling pair. It was time to get over the shock of the outcome of visiting with the seer and concentrate on the challenges still before him.

  The past day had sped by, like a raging river propelled by a storm's fury. They had left the creek twice to lay false trails. During their first break, Kaydyr spotted the pursuing party following the first trail. This was fine until, not half an hour ago, Kaydyr reported that their pursuers had somehow circled around and were now heading in the same direction they were, only two miles to the east.

  Brynn's eyes drifted closed. He needed to sleep, his mind was weary and he could not concentrate. Mayhap that was why he had not felt the other mage until the last moment. His awareness was blunted by exhaustion. Even sleep was no rest at times, with the paths weaving in and out of his consciousness like birds upon the breeze. Sometimes they turned out to be prophetic, while others were simply his unconscious speaking to him. Deciding what each meant, if anything, was never easy. Brynn shook himself back into wakefulness. The sword was not far away; he could feel it.

  Greyson snatched the binoculars from the scout. Slowly, he drew them across the horizon. Nothing. No dust, no horses, no tracks. For all he knew, their quarry could have circled around and headed for the cliffs paralleling the Bria-ghel Strait. They could also follow the cliffs until they reached Yulenna or even turned back to follow the southern arm of the Khira Ranges around to the Andorek Forest. Any of these routes would take them back out from the desert.

  The Khira was a small desert and could be crossed safely enough as long as you had water and supplies, and travelled during the cooler parts of the day. And you did not end up walking yourself to death in circles. Technically they were not in the desert yet, but they might as well be — it was as hot as a furnace and arid. The grass was brown, the trees barely offering any shade and the creek was now just a faded memory.

  The hills leading up to the Khira Ranges which surrounded the desert were punishing. The climbs were hard work after you made it through a half dozen, and it tired the horses out. Greyson remembered an old tale that said there used to be a mountain in the middle of the smaller hills. Some immense force of nature was supposed to have split it, turning it into a crumbled edifice that dropped into a gorge just before the real desert started.

  Without a mage and no sign of tracks for the last hour, there was no way to tell where their thief was. Only Greyson's instinct pushed him on towards the desert. The thief was relying on the desert to intimidate them. They were not supplied for a desert trip and if they did not catch him soon, they would have to turn back. To go into the desert without more water would be foolish and deadly.

  Greyson tightened his jaw, feeling stubborn. His thief would have to head to the pass to cross into the desert. That would be where he would place his bet. He jangled the reins and urged his horse onward.

  'My lord, riders approaching.'

  Greyson turned to look behind him. The scout was pointing back in the direction of Sal-Cirus, where a score of horses appeared at the apex of a hill.

  'They're moving pretty fast,' the scout observed.

  'A mage,' Greyson concluded.

  The scout looked at the Thane, not understanding how he knew this.

  'Keldon used to use mages to get the horses to move faster and give them more stamina, they could ride all night and all day. It meant our armies could be in position to attack well before the enemy anticipated. Horses do not move that fast this far out of the city, in this heat, up and down those hills, without help from a mage.'

  The group of horses wheeled towards them like a flock of birds, seamlessly changing their course and flowing up the hill. Greyson grinned. For some reason Curtin had sent him aid. That thieving elvan was not getting away as easily as he thought.

  Kaydyr landed lightly on Sariah's shoulder. They still had a few of hours of light left. If they kept moving, they might reach the open dunes before they stopped for a rest. They were not far from the gorge that divided the desert from the ranges. The rift split the earth like each section had been prised apart by a curious giant who wanted a glimpse beneath. The gorge was not com
pletely impassable as the gap narrowed in a number of places and Sariah knew some of the bridges were still intact.

  Sweat trailed down the back of her neck, but Sariah did not bother wiping it. It was going to get a lot hotter soon. She looked at the sun glinting on a strand of silver in Brynn's hair that had escaped the scarf he had put back on. He still refused to speak about it, telling her it did not mean what she thought. Regardless of what he said, as far as she was concerned, that hair and those eyes made him the one spoken of in The Prophecy.

  Just as she was about to tell Brynn to tuck the hair away, he did so.

  'It is not far from here, just around the bend...' Brynn's voice trailed off as both riders rounded the bend and their gazes were drawn up along the length of two, very tall, scaled legs. Towering over them was a dragon in all its grace and deadliness, its teeth as long as Brynn was tall, its talons creating cracks in the earth where they dug in.

  'By all the realms!' Sariah breathed as she took in the guardian that had been carved out of the side of the cliff. 'It almost looks as if it really is digging into the earth with those claws.' She could see now that the cracks were a part of the sculpture.

  'Indeed,' Brynn murmured, although he did not quite echo Sariah's amazement. It was not his first time seeing them, for there were two. The amulet Toormeena had given him had shown him where the sword was hidden, giving him the knowledge to find what it was linked to. On the other side of the gorge stood the dragon's twin.

  'Once there was no split in this valley, in fact there used to be a river,' Brynn said as Kaydyr took in the second dragon.

  'I know. I have come out here several times with Riqu. I never saw these though,' she said referring to the dragon sculptures. 'But then, we always came in along the border of the ranges, which would bypass this area as it took us along the gorge a lot earlier. I always suspected that there was once a waterway where the gorge was.'

  'What would you do out here?' Brynn wanted to know.

  'We would smuggle slaves along the desert side of the Khira Ranges to the Andorek Forest. We still do, although it has been turns since I have done it. What happened? To create the rift?' Sariah asked, appreciating Kaydyr's keen sight as she took in the detail of each scale and the feathery mane crowning the dragon's head. The four scything horns were massive.

  Brynn shrugged in response, and then, realising the hawk was not looking at him, said, 'I do not know. I only know about the rift because when I was being briefed on the area I was travelling to, my tutor happened to mention it. And I only know about the dragons because the amulet showed me them when I asked it where to find the sword.'

  'The sword is here?'

  'Yes. It will take me but a moment to retrieve.'

  Brynn dismounted and approached the statue. Climbing between the dragon's forelegs he passed his hand in front of the dragon's abdomen. With a soft, grating sound the stone dropped in and slid open. Sariah caught a glimpse of a grey bundle within the small aperture.

  Brynn stepped to the side as a long object wrapped in a grey and black blanket came forth. He did not touch it, letting it float before him. The grey turned out to be silver embroidery, it was a fine blanket with which to wrap a blade.

  'Sershja,' Brynn's voice was soft, but neither Sariah, nor the horse could mistake the command in the tone. The dwarven charger reluctantly stepped forward.

  'It is fine, Sershja, you will not be harmed.'

  'Why are you not touching it, then?' the horse whinnied.

  'We are not acquainted, just yet. I will do that when I have more time. Just let me strap it to the saddle, Sershja.'

  The horse grumbled, but turned to make the task easier.

  Sariah had never seen a mage use talent for something that could easily be achieved through physical effort. It was like invisible hands handled the straps that were for extra saddlebags or other gear, they unbuckled, wrapped about the blanketed sword and then did themselves up again.

  Brynn looked to Sariah once he had finished. 'I cannot use the sword until I learn of its talent and thus the 'will' given to it,' he said in answer to her unasked question.

  An expression of distaste marred the warrior's beautiful face. 'You make it sound like it has a heart and mind.' She was used to honest steel, not a blade that might communicate with you and thus drive you to its purpose.

  'Not quite. Do not touch this sword, Sariah, not for any reason.'

  Sariah gave the sword a look that said not even if it would save her soul could she be persuaded to lay her hand upon its hilt. 'Why did Toormeena give it to you, if you cannot use it?'

  'I can use it, just not immediately,' Brynn replied, as he pulled himself back into the saddle. 'I do not want to do it now because I do not know how long it will take or what is involved. Toormeena also warned me that I could unintentionally alert the mages in Sal-Cirus. The human mages will probably have no clue as to what this is, but the elvan mages will feel the talent in it awaken. In the At-hara, I will discover these things.'

  'Then let us get there,' Sariah said

  'Indeed,' Brynn agreed grimly, as he directed Sershja around the dragon statue.

  'Not that way,' Sariah told him, turning Treya around. 'There is a bridge where the gorge narrows further along. We can send Kaydyr for a last look at that patrol, just to…'

  Brynn had paused, the look of wariness in his expression putting Kaydyr on alert.

  Sariah pulled Treya up. 'What—'

  An arrow whizzed by a few centimetres from her face. Sariah immediately backed Treya up. The sound of hooves coming towards them caused both horses to swiftly about face and retreat.

  'Where did they come from?' Sariah yelled.

  'I have neither clue nor guess,' Brynn answered. 'It cannot be the same patrol! When Kaydyr left them, they were in no position to be bearing down on us now.'

  'You have harmed my brother, thief, and you will be repentant!'

  The moment the other mage sent to him, Brynn learned the identity of the mage with Dematica, even as he discovered the identity of this one.

  'Brother of Andarin, know your kin chose his fate when he chose to interfere. It was Dematica I had dispute with,' Brynn sent back.

  'I disagree. You chose his fate! For it was your actions that changed it.'

  'I tell you; he put himself in harm's way when he intervened,' Brynn informed him calmly, ignoring the forceful aggression emanating from the other mage.

  'It is your misjudgement that has cost him, and I will act as justice's scales in his stead,' Akileena oathed.

  'I am sorry. I do not have the time,' Brynn retorted.

  Akileena Debanikay fell from his horse, stunned.

  'Another mage,' Brynn yelled back to Sariah. 'That's why I did not detect them. I have dealt with him.'

  Both horses rounded a corner at the same time and skidded to a halt. A second group of riders was bearing down on them. They had been flanked! To their right was a sheer rock wall. To their left, the gorge.

  'Do we get chased back to Sal-Cirus, passing through that?' Brynn asked nodding towards the oncoming riders, 'or risk the gorge?'

  'That jump is impossible!' Sariah cried in disbelief. 'Even if we stripped the horses.'

  'I will help.'

  'How?' the warrior could not fathom how talent could get them over that gap.

  'Do you need me to explain it, just now?' he yelled, glancing back. Akileena's group was closing. 'It's the only way, Sariah... Unless we fight.'

  Sariah gave him a sharp look. 'There's well over twenty this time, Brynn!'

  'That's my point!'

  'Treya?' Sariah asked.

  The horse snorted. 'I've no choice, do I?'

  The charger did not wait for a reply, pacing back to line herself up. Kaydyr took off, giving Sariah a close-up view of the gorge. The warrior cursed under her breath and steeled her nerves. Treya launched herself without further hesitation, if she waited a moment more, she'd lose her courage.

  'By the Goddess of All!' sh
e screamed as she hurled herself off the cliff edge.

  The charger marvelled at her lack of fear as her hooves left the ground. As long as she did not look down, there was nothing to indicate she could fall to her death, just the breeze whipping through her mane and a sensation that made her feel like she could fly. She landed with a jolt a good horse-length from the edge on the other side of the cliff, but she continued on for another dozen meters before Sariah convinced her they were well clear of the crevasse.

  Kaydyr slammed into the pad on her shoulder and Sariah withdrew her bow. It opened at the prompting of her will, just like her armour. Walking Treya into range, she started to pick off the riders closest to Brynn.

  Brynn lined Sershja up and signalled him to go. Sershja started forward and then veered, nervously pacing sideways.

  'Sershja, please!' Brynn pleaded.

  'I cannot, I'm afraid!'

  'I know, Sershja, but we must. Treya made it, and Sariah cannot hold them off for long. That mage is going recover and put shields up any moment now. Gather your courage, fine friend, I do not want to overpower you.'

  Sershja snorted and lined himself up again. 'Does it matter if I close my eyes?'

  'I can guide you.'

  'Good!'

  With a heave, the great charger sped forward, launching himself with all his strength. He did not close his eyes, though, and, unlike Treya, he prayed silently to his goddess. As he landed, one hind hoof skimmed the cliff's edge. Panicking, Sershja screamed, his heart thudding hard in his chest. Then it felt like the wind shoved him forward and he was clear.

  Breathing hard, the charger danced about skittishly before yielding to Brynn's instruction to turn. Sershja looked across the gap, hardly believing he had made it. Several men were lining up their horses so they could follow them.