Battle Mage:
Winter’s Edge
By
Donald L. Wigboldy Jr.
Copyright April 2013
https://www.facebook.com/BattleMageATaleOfAlus
Other books by Donald L. Wigboldy Jr.
From the Tales of Alus series:
Battle Mage: A Tale of Alus
The High King: A Tale of Alus
The Emperor’s Shadow War
Modern Tales:
Voran the Night Guardian
The Mermaid’s Chest
Chapter 1- Claws in the Snow
As the snow swirled and gusted, the path of dirt paving the road was all but lost in the lightly forested land north of the great wall. It was cold and the gray light of a winter’s mid afternoon felt disconcerting to the small caravan attempting to travel at this time of year. The coachman and the eight guardsmen were stalwart types wrapped in their winter coats and covering cloaks of black. Thick fur hats were pulled low as they attempted to sink their heads further into their shoulders and the warmth of their cloaks. Even as the men tried to keep warm, they had begun to push the horses into a rushed pace. They were no longer just dealing with the cold and howling winds. Over the last few miles, new howling could be heard over the wind.
Wolves were common enough in Kardor and the other lands north of the wall and dangerous even for so many men should they come in a pack of greater numbers. Most wolves would avoid men, especially so near the massive Southwall which was commonly patrolled most of the year. The healthy fear wolves had for the men who used weapons and magic that often reduced the packs’ threat should have proved enough to keep the baying beasts from chasing the coach and its guardsmen. Worriedly, the men were beginning to fear that these were no ordinary wolves.
The Dark One’s creatures were most often found much farther north and nearer to the mountains that were once known as the Dragon’s Scar. With his usurping of the northern lands, many just called them the Dark Mountains now. Though that was their usual territory since the wall had risen to keep them from the men and women of Southwall, recent years had seen more and more of his minions roaming the plains and hills.
One such type of minion was as feared as any. His werebeasts, part human and part beast, they were the Dark One’s most fearsome creatures. They would hunt in large groups and their speed and stamina were legendary. If the howling did indeed belong to such creatures, then even their current horses’ pace would not be enough. The beasts could run down horses at a full gallop and could pace them long enough to wear them down when they could not.
The howls seemed closer now and to be coming from more than one direction. The guardsmen fingered their blades, sliding them in their scabbards to make sure that they could move freely should the beasts show themselves. Their confidence that they could survive a full attack was not strong but if they could keep them from the horses perhaps they would all survive.
“How much farther?” the guardsman at the rear right asked hoarsely, whether he was hoarse from fear or the harsh weather was hard for the others to decide.
The guard ahead of him said nothing. He was unsure himself. Falling snow and the gray made it all but impossible to judge for him self where the safety of the wall truly was now.
A breaking of brush from his right caused the guardsmen to look for the cause and the first glimpse of a dark form running on all fours caused the men to gasp and pull their swords as one.
“Prepare yourselves, men!” the sergeant who paced the carriage at the front and right cried out in a warning that was hardly needed. The sounds of more swords leaving scabbards from the left side of the carriage pierced the howling, if only briefly.
Two more black furred creatures leaped onto the cleared path of the road stalking them in easy loping strides. The rear guardsmen both turned and fired cross bolts at the beasts, and watched them deftly avoid the metal tipped shafts causing a pair of curses.
More of the creatures were beginning to show themselves to either side of the path. They glided through the trees and brush as if the obstacles did not exist for them. Unfortunately for the hapless horsemen, they could only watch as the rear guard tried to slow those on the path with their crossbows, but the bows were slow loading and the beasts continually avoided the bolts easily.
The race continued for several more minutes until the horsemen discovered that the race was over before it had begun. Suddenly confronted with a dark wall of were beasts on the road in front of them, man and horse faltered.
“My lord, we are cut off!” the carriage driver cried out in fear.
The window flap on the right opened barely and a voice ordered, “Don’t stop, you fool! Try and break through or we’ll be killed.”
The driver flicked the reins trying to drive the horses through the beasts, but the horses could hear and see the unnatural creatures in their path and began to feint to the right and left in their harnesses. The guardsmen were beginning to have to fight their own mounts as fear rose in them as well. The horses wanted to flee, but in their wish to flee they became virtually blind and dumb to the men who were trying to guide and protect them all.
Instead of increasing their pace, the carriage had begun to slow as the horses hit the line of dark beasts. The creatures were fast and deftly avoided being trampled, all save one that caused a huge bump as the left side of the carriage ran the wolf over nearly tipping the transport over in the process. The wooden wheels sounded a large crack but the wheels and shafts held for now.
Broken wheels became the least of their worries. Two of the werebeasts had timed their jumps to menace two of the six horses of the team. The driver darted his whip at the monsters as the horses bucked in pain and fear. Guardsmen avoided more of the werebeasts and slashed with their swords to dislodge the attackers.
A horse stumbled.
The werebeast had bit deep into the horse’s neck and blood flowed even as its air flow lessened with each panicked breath. The other horses stalled as the ones behind tripped in their harness as the lead toppled in front of them and the ones on the opposite side were dragged towards their fellows. The carriage held momentum thrusting the team forward even more as it threatened to topple to either side.
Guardsmen tried to come to a halt even as their mounts fought them. A man was thrown from his steed and crashed to the ground in a bone jarring hit. The others nearest him moved to either side hoping to protect him from the circling monsters.
Dozens of werebeasts stalked the men. One of the pair of werebeasts on the team was cut down as the other escaped with minor wounds to join the surrounding circle.
Two of the horses were also down. The carriage wouldn’t be going anywhere unless they could cut away the dead weight of the wounded and dying team.
Voices from within the carriage could be heard just over the growling of the werebeasts. The door opened and a man with thinned, graying hair and a gaunt face clad in a black robe and cloak exited to look at the men and beasts. He had an aura of power to him that any with magic knew to be that of a wizard. He held a staff in front of him and stated to those inside the carriage, “Ashleen, Wendle, prepare your selves to fight. The Dark One has released his werebeasts on us.”
A tall young man exited next. His dark hair was thick, his nose strong and jutting. He appeared confident despite the monsters surrounding them and also carried a staff in his hands. The third to exit was a beautiful woman. Long silver hair was bound in a tail to stream down her back over the cloak of dark blue. Despite her hair coloring, she appeared young and also carried a staff.
“Wendle, move to the rear and help the left. Ashleen, move to the front and try to cover the horses. I really don’t want to be walking to the wall in this wea
ther, if it can be helped.”
With a pair of “yes, Master Deiclonus”, the two acknowledged their orders. The elder wizard glanced at the numbers surrounding them and he knew that they had their work cut out for them.
As if the wizards’ arrival were a cue, several of the beasts attacked.
Deiclonus chanted briefly and sent a fireball flying from his staff towards the nearest of the attackers. The guardsmen slashed at the beasts. The girl, Ashleen, channeled a bolt of lightning that skittered erratically over the recovering horse team striking two of the werebeasts in mid leap driving them back. Wendle waved his staff as he chanted and a swirling, cutting whorl of ice and snow lashed at the nearest werebeasts.
The sounds of magical attacks and screams of men and beast both lashed the dull breathing of the snow laden wind. The fighting was vicious, as the beasts proved very difficult to kill for both sword and magic. They were highly resistant to flame and ice apparently as few of the monsters succumbed to the two men. The lightning of the third mage demanded respect from the creatures, however, as two of their numbers attested from holes bore through their chests.
The lightning also drew more of the creatures to her end of the carriage.
“Master, the lightning has killed a pair already.”
“The ice has slowed them down,” Wendle called from the other side.
“Fire is charring fur, but no deaths,” he declared.
A horse of the guardsman to Deiclonus’ left ran for the ice covered trees in an effort to escape. Its rider already slain, the horse soon followed as a pair of beasts removed the distraction probably figuring to feast after the rest of their impending deaths. Another guard was down already on Wendle’s side as well though the elder wizard did not know that. Hardly any of the beasts had fallen and already their guards were reduced by a quarter.
The wizard chanted a new spell. Lightning flew in much the way the girl’s had though it was much more directed. The bolt bore through a pair of werebeasts that were not expecting such an attack. The other two mages reacted with their own magics from their positions. A new wave of beasts did their best to dodge streams of lightning and wove their way closer to attack the men once more.
Ashleen screamed and a thunderous bolt of lightning reacted from her skin as a werebeast broke through to latch onto her right arm. She was a wilder type of wizard. As such, the girl had learned to harness magic in her own way before being found by the guild. Her use of lightning could often be called up without a word. The demonstration of her unique skills was evidenced by the smoking corpse of the werebeast at her feet.
Blood showed on the arm partially bared by the werebeast’s tearing bite, but the girl still lived. Unfortunately, the guard behind her no longer did as another beast tore out his neck in the confusion.
Deiclonus wasn’t sure what happened next. The first werebeast to have its chest explode towards the carriage was nearest Ashleen. His attention was focused on those nearest him and he missed the strangeness as all of their efforts were designed to push the enemy back. Over the howls and growling, his ears heard a new battle cry, however. Such a sound couldn’t have sounded better to his ears if angels themselves sang out.
“Southwall! Southwall!” the cry began to gather the werebeasts’ attention. That call and the sight of several more of their brethren from the front and right side of the carriage dying explosively quickly revealed a new enemy joining the fray.
Unsure of what was happening to their brothers, the werebeasts stalled in their attacks. The wizards struck back at a few of their number in the distraction adding to their confusion.
Thundering hooves and men with glowing blue spears and shields rushed into the fray. The monsters now found their flanks being overwhelmed by this new force. The ones towards the back and left were slower to respond to the new enemy, but as the horsemen continued their slaughter, even they began to withdraw from the new attackers.
Howling in despair and frustration, the dark horde turned tail and quickly disappeared back into the forest. The riders didn’t bother to pursue. They knew the beasts’ abilities in the brush. Horses just couldn’t catch them. A few more minutes fight and all that remained on the road were men and the corpses of both sides strewn around the carriage and road.
Deiclonus felt an overwhelming rush of exhaustion as he leaned onto his staff for support and took in his surroundings. More walking stick than magic staff, the elder wizard moved to check Ashleen who had slumped onto one of the dead horses appearing drained, in pain, and checking her shoulder. Wendle joined him with a limp and showing numerous nicks on his cloak and robes that attested to close quarters fighting as well.
As the elder wizard checked on the girl, who wanly smiled up at his attention, the new horsemen rode to surround the wounded vehicle. One man clad in mostly brown rode to face them and saluted. “Falcon Trillon, at your disposal, sir. I’m afraid that we weren’t able to save you all, but we had to chase this pack from quite away to get here.”
The wizard looked up at a young man that looked to be in his very early twenties at most. Light brown hair, barely mussed, topped an uncovered head. Deiclonus also noted an aura about the man. Around the aura, the snow seemed to bend and flee from him as if sliding over a bubble. It was an odd aura for a mere falcon of Southwall to have. Such mages were not generally known to be strong in magic. Also like a wilder they differed from true wizards, though they did have their uses as more than a dozen werebeasts attested. “Greetings, Falcon Trillon, I am Deiclonus, wizard of the first order. Your timely rescue is still much appreciated, young man. Thankfully, our Southwall allies apparently still guard the wall during the winter.”
The falcon nodded. “Never enjoyable, but it has been necessary with the Dark One’s beasts roaming more freely the past few years,” he agreed. “You have wounded?”
The wizard glanced around. The guardsmen numbered three standing. Looking to their faces, the men shook their heads sadly. Three then, the rest all slain. He knew they were lucky that any of them lived. Had the Southwallers not come along when they did, they would all most likely be dead. “My apprentices have their share of cuts and bites but they should survive until a healer can see to them.
The falcon dismounted. Checking Ashleen’s arm for himself, he merely said one word, “Heal.”
As the wizard watched, to his amazement the wound swiftly seemed to heal over and barely a scar remained where the savage bite had torn her fleshy upper arm. The man went to his pack and took a partial loaf of bread and began to chew on it as he went to check the others.
“You battle mages can heal?” the elder wizard remarked in surprise. “I’ve not seen many full wizards who could heal as well.”
Glancing at Deiclonus, Falcon Trillon replied, “It’s a bit new, and like you wizards, not many of us have the skill.”
“Impressive,” was the reply.
“Thank you very much,” Ashleen added as she tested the arm. “If you’re a tailor besides all my needs would be met,” the wilder smiled as she ruefully played with her torn sleeves. The skin was a bit pink from the cold but she could move the appendage as if nothing had happened.
While the battle mage had distracted them with his magic, the other two passengers had exited. A man with a rounded belly that could be assumed even through the bulk of his robes and cloak was also quite bald. With his floppy hat perched atop his head, the man appeared to be quite full of himself as well. Noting the dead around him nearly unblinkingly, their deaths seemed to bother him little. The second to exit was a young, attractive woman with dark curled hair and dark brown eyes that could probably hide many mysteries in their depths. Unlike the nobleman, the girl paled and tried to look away from all the blood and death.
The man checked his footing to avoid soiling his fur boots, before noting the falcon. “I assume we have you to thank for our salvation, young man?”
Nodding, the falcon replied, “Yes, sir, I am Falcon Sebastian Trillon. I am in charge of this squad. We no
ted this pack on the move and came as quickly as our horses could carry us.
“I am afraid that some of your men were dead before we could reach you.”
The man patted the air, waving off the worries, “That is not your fault, lad. They’ll be hard to replace anytime soon though I am afraid. At least once we reach the wall; we should be reasonably safe for the rest of our travel.”
Sebastian nodded, “This seems to be an odd time of year to attempt to travel though, sir.”
“One needs to keep the line of communication open as much as possible despite the weather.”
The round little man seemed to start in recognition of a mistake. “I am afraid that I forgot to introduce myself. I am so used to someone else being around to do so. I am Lord Romonus, of Treatenshire, ambassador of Kardor. This is my lovely daughter, Helena.”
“Pleased to meet you both.” The falcon glanced to his men who had worked to remove the two fallen horses from their harness. While the remaining four in the team looked agitated, they appeared none the worse for wear despite the battle that had surrounded them and their falls. “I think we have your team put back together as best we can here, my lord. Perhaps we should move on before they find reinforcements and decide to return.”
Already pale from the death around them, Helena somehow managed to whiten even more at the idea and quickly retreated inside the carriage.
Glancing around apparently looking for someone, Lord Romonus said to Deiclonus, “Kerrick seems to have been slain as well. Would you have your apprentice drive us to the wall, wizard?”
The man in question nodded and gestured for Wendle to take his place on the bench. While the younger man didn’t appear overly enthused to sit on the seat and drive through the remaining snowy miles, he moved to comply with his master’s wishes.
“It’s not too far to the wall from here,” Sebastian stated trying to make the man feel better. The falcon also noted that the wizards of Kardor had not put up barriers against the wind as he had. It was a magic taught to him by a wizard. Surely, a full wizard would know and use the trick in this kind of weather if they could?
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