by Brandon Barr
If Hargstead didn’t fall by tomorrow night, such a maneuver might be warranted.
He peered up at the windows of the buildings that rose two or three stories, searching for another victim. His men shouted taunts at the people huddled within the walls, but grew quiet when his apparition neared.
He never openly walked about the walls without creating an illusion of himself to hide his true location. It had drawn out more than a few Meadowlanders eager to take him out with an arrow while he watched further back in the shadows to seize his attackers.
“Carry on!” encouraged Titannus. “Can’t have them thinking we’ve grown tired of tormenting them.”
Cheers rose from the group of men, and the insults and threats roared raucously in the night air.
In the glow of the torches a figure on horseback rode to a stop before his illusion and leapt off. The horse was a spoil from the raids and the man was his patrol leader who he’d sent to search for the girl mage. She had several hidden dwellings in the woods and he’d ordered them burned to the ground.
Equal to the capture of Hargstead was the threat of the young mage, Payetta. He was entranced by her power, but even more by the fact that she had taught herself. When he had dipped into her mind, he had been quick to seek out her weaknesses. Where she lived, who she loved, what drove and motivated her to stand and fight him.
“We’ve located one of her hideouts, but it was purely by luck that we stumbled upon it. The place was extremely well hidden.”
“What did you find?” inquired Titannus.
“A few items of clothing, a few hides. Nothing worth mentioning. Judging by the dust layering the inside, I’d wager she hasn’t stayed there for months.”
Titannus ran his hands through his long white hair hanging beside his face. “I’m sending Jethri with you tomorrow. There are seven more holes in the ground along the eastern border of the Meadowlands. I’m certain she’s in one of the northern ones. That’s where her friends live.”
“Do you still want us to take her alive?”
“I’ll decide that when you find her,” said Titannus. “That’s why Jethri is coming.”
The patrol leader’s eyes smiled. “Understood, Mage Lord.”
A series of cries rang out from his men where his illusion stood talking to his patrol leader. From the shadows a distance away, Titannus, in physical form, squinted up at the top of a three-story building and spotted five bowmen reigning arrows down upon him and his raiders. One man was turned in his direction, and Titannus pounced like a spider. He entered the bowman’s mind and took control of his body.
Inside the bowman’s body, the immense focus to maintain control left his connection to his true self hanging by a thread. He knew his illusion had disappeared, and that his actual body lay collapsed in the shadows, vulnerable to attack if anyone should see it. But he’d been careful, wearing a dark cloak and keeping out of the torchlight.
Now it was time to wreak havoc.
One by one Titannus began pushing the other archers over the wall with his new toy. He succeeding in sending two screaming over the side of the precipice before one of the two remaining archers turned to fight him. Titannus struggled with the man, but it was futile. The man he had seized was clearly the weaker of the two and hadn’t the strength to match his opponent, and the battle within the mind of the man he’d overtaken was still raging as his host fought against him for control of the body. Titannus had reached the limit of his abilities. He hoped to one day match master Zarith Smith’s powers, but that was not today.
Titannus released the man and the two struggling bodies collapsed out of sight on top of the building. Returning to his body and seeing again through his own eyes, Titannus sprang to his feet, then drew his sword and strode forward, waving his blade to gain the attention of the last archer standing. The archer spotted him and immediately Titannus flung himself into the man’s mind and seized his body. He spun the man around, maneuvered the gloved hands, drew back on the fitted arrow and shot. He repeated the action four times until the man’s two friends lay still on the roof. Then, using his last reserve of strength, Titannus levitated the man in the air and positioned him over the streets of Hargstead.
He lifted the man to the very highest point his power allowed. It was, at the very least, a bone shattering drop.
All at once, he released his grip and the man screamed all the way to the ground.
Once again in his own body, Titannus stood from where he had collapsed and discreetly eyed the bell tower off to his right. He wondered if the hidden man inside had seen the interaction.
He suspected he had, and perhaps…was even the instigator of the attack.
Titannus brushed the dirt from his cloak and continued his slow pace around Hargstead. Tomorrow eve, if the gate had not fallen, the mysterious man and he would have a duel between magic, and bow and arrow.
Surprise, he felt, was a sound weapon in his corner.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Payetta was surprised to hear laughter outside Old Ferren’s home as she approached with Justen on her heels. The sky over the eastern mountains was pale blue as the sun began its upward climb. She glanced back at Justen, and at Daeken who trailed not far behind with the boy on his back. Another peal of laughter sounded from inside Ferren’s home.
She burst through the door and found the meeting room full of bodies. Everyone was there. Everyone but Kirk.
Smiles were spread across the faces of the Heroes Brigade despite every pair of eyes being red with tears.
“Join us!” cried Jax. “We’ve been telling Kirk stories for the past half-hour.”
Payetta grinned. “Glad to hear it. Kirk deserves a cheerful send-off.” She gave a furtive glance to her verbal sparring nemesis. “When Old Ferren bites the dust, then we can sit around all serious and frown on his behalf.”
“Oh shut up,” groused Ferren. “Just to annoy you, I’m going to live forever.”
Everyone laughed.
“Let me introduce you to our new friend,” said Justen. “This is Daeken. He came from a farmland very far from here. His home was destroyed by a mage and their raiders, so he knows the battle we face and he’s come here to help us fight.”
“Welcome!” came the unanimous cry from the table.
Payetta sat, as did Justen and Daeken. The boy crawled up into Daeken’s lap and looked at her strangely. It was the first time she found herself taking note of the child. There was something odd about him beyond his silent tongue. He had eyes that didn’t fit a child’s, nor a face that expressed childlike emotion. She gave a quick smile to the boy, but he stared at her as if he hadn’t seen the friendly gesture at all.
Stories of Kirk continued for a time, and then finally Payetta sensed it was the right time to turn the morning’s meeting toward the task at hand.
She thumped her fist on the wood table. “So my friends, who’s ready to kick Titannus’s ass and show him that the North Meadow Heroes Brigade isn’t the type to turn our backs and run?”
“We’re going to do more than kick his ass, I hope,” said Jax.
“That’s only step one,” smiled Payetta. “Step one-hundred and forty-two is making him naked-wrestle a wolverine with all of his fingers removed.”
Justen shook his head.
“Can the wolverine be feral and pissed?” Jax asked with a contemplative lift of an eyebrow.
Payetta thought for a moment. “We can throw a bucket of a rival wolverine’s piss on our naked mage just to be sure our girl goes for the jugular.”
“Can we light the wolverine’s tail on fire?” added Brodie.
“Don’t try to be funny, Brodie” responded Payetta, deadpan. “It’s just not your thing. Besides, that would be cruel to the animal. What we could do instead is fashion a girdle for Titannus, attach some sort of tail, and then light THAT on fire.”
The room exploded with laughter.
Payetta smirked at Justen. He tried not to smile, but he failed. Suddenly she wanted
to take him out back and have her way with him in the woods like she had last night. Sometimes she wondered what was wrong with her, but it only lasted a matter of seconds before her mind wandered to some invigorating romp with Justen and she concluded the tingling urge in her loins was quite justified.
She reached under the table and grabbed him.
Justen’s face went momentarily red, but then he recovered from his surprise and winked at her with an almost teasing smile. He removed her hand, not unkindly, then turned back to the group.
“Guys,” Justen pleaded. “You’re only encouraging her. We do have some serious business to discuss.”
“I know,” snickered Jax uncontrollably. “Now I have a naked mage with a girdle dancing in my head.”
“All right,” Justen rapped his knuckles on the table. “Get yourselves together or our new friend is going to think he’s joined a group of prepubescent teenagers.”
“You and Payetta are teenagers,” put in Flinn, wiping at his eyes.
“And I’m the only one besides Old Ferren who doesn’t act like it,” replied Justen, raising an eyebrow.
Payetta saw the satisfied slant on Ferren’s lips at Justen’s mention. He looked at her smugly, a victorious gleam in his eye. She scowled back at him playfully. She loved that old man, he put up with her constant harassment and yet wasn’t afraid to be himself. He enjoyed it like a game of checkers. Of all the men in the group besides her husband, Old Ferren held her highest respect.
“Justen’s right,” called out Payetta. “Time to get serious. Listen up now!”
***
The room quieted the instant his wife spoke. He felt proud every time he glimpsed the respect they held for her. It was her charisma that held the group so tightly together. They would do anything for one another, and she had fostered this attitude with her wit and her strength. It amazed him to think back over the past four years and consider how her magic skills had grown alongside her talent for leading.
Sure, she could drive him crazy at times, but he needed that. Needed to be pushed beyond his serious-minded self and laugh until it hurt. And he knew with certainty she needed him. If she was a wild stallion, he was the much needed fence to corral her in.
He nodded and looked over the faces of all the men. “Between the five spies we killed a few days ago and the four raiders killed today, we’ve taken out nine of Titannus’s men. Then our new friend, Daeken, finished off at least three more that I saw. That’s twelve.”
Daeken leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “Fifteen altogether,” he said smoothly. “I slew three others before I ran into this boy and his mother’s attackers.”
Dane whistled a long note to show he was duly impressed.
“Picking off stray groups of raiders is something we’re good at,” continued Justen, “but facing a large group is where things get dicey. There are still around two-hundred raiders, give or take, and that’s only half the problem. The other half is Titannus. I know we all want to see him dead for what he did to Kirk. Payetta and I have even more reason to see justice served to him. The problem is, we need more fighters. We need to gather men willing to join us.”
A collective hush came over the room.
Old Ferren finally spoke. “They’re already preparing to leave North Meadow. Heading further north or going west. My wife was in Sumarice village yesterday and she reported that the attack on South Meadow has made everyone frantic. She heard at least a dozen people talking about leaving.”
“We must try and stop them,” said Justen.
Dane spoke up for the first time, “They’re not fighters like us. I’ve tried a dozen times to get friends and neighbors to join. And just like Mrs. Ferren said, they’re going to run. No way I can see them joining with the prospect of fighting a mage and a couple hundred raiders.”
“Where are they going to go?” growled Old Ferren. “North of here there’s farmable land, but not too much farther is another of Zarith’s mages. And we’ve all heard the stories from travelers. Those communities up north are smaller than ours and they’re being picked off one by one. The Meadowlands is our best hope. Our friends and neighbors need to know this!”
“What about to the west, or even further south?” asked Brodie.
“Nothing much is known about the land west of here,” answered Ferren. “Haven’t met anyone beyond the Sawtooth Mountains. Could be a good sign of undiscovered land.”
“Or,” began Jax, “it could mean there’s a forest full of fang-toothed squirrels waiting in those western reaches.”
“Shut up, Jax,” snapped Ferren.
Jax put two fingers up to his mouth to give a visual example. “Black beady eyes, stomachs hungry for flesh. Pop out of the trees and chew through your legs, then stuff you alive in their tree hole like an acorn.”
Payetta snorted. “Oh, I’ll take one of those.”
Justen leaned back and folded his arms. How quickly things could descend from a serious discussion about preserving the valley to idiotic story time with Jax.
“We were talking about gathering an army to fight,” said Justen, casting his eyes on Jax, “not making up tall tales about squirrels.”
A short quiet came over the room, and Jax stared down at his hands with a frown.
“And the South,” reminded Brodie, reasserting his original question. “I know there are the clans of brutals, but their numbers have been weakened by the mages. The farmers aren’t scared of fighting them…that is, as long as they outnumber them by a lot. If we fled there, we might be safe.”
“There are also the Caulderi people south of here,” said Justen. “Peaceful as far as I have heard.”
“Strange people, the Caulderi,” said Ferren. “They wear white robes and keep to themselves. Live in underground communes beneath the old buildings...”
“The land further south ain’t as good for crops,” complained Dane. “I’d go north before I went south.”
“What, Dane?” said Jax, accusingly, “scared to go west because of the squirrels?”
Daeken’s steely voice stopped everyone cold. “I thought this was the Heroes Brigade? I don’t recall Justen asking whether we should give up or not, he requested we make an effort to rally your fellow farmers.”
“That’s right,” said Justen, thankful for Daeken’s support. “I’m not asking us to fight Titannus and his men on our own, I’m asking us to get help. Titannus knows about us now. And he knows about Payetta.”
“Damn straight he knows about me now,” said Payetta.
Justen was about to ignore his wife’s comment when Daeken leaned forward, staring at her. “As powerful as you think you are, you are not invincible. It’s a common misconception among teenagers.”
“Hallelujah!” shouted Old Ferren. “Another man brave enough to speak my thoughts!”
Justen momentarily feared for Daeken’s life as his wife’s fair-skinned face flushed bright red. Calling Payetta a teenager crossed a line of respect that didn’t sit quite right with Justen. Still, he was right. She did behave too often as if she were indestructible. Perhaps the harsh rebuke was warranted. The more this stranger from the east spoke, the more Justen found himself endeared to him.
“I can kill him,” replied Payetta, her voice vibrating with barely contained rage. “I will kill him. Whether I have to do it alone or with help, Titannus is going to meet his maker.”
Daeken held her gaze. “A word of warning. Many a man’s grave was dug by confidence and a prideful spirit. Don’t let your bravado get you killed. We need more fighters. You may be worth a hundred fighting men in battle, but you’re still only one-woman. If you do something stupid and get yourself killed, that hurts the rest of us.” Daeken put his hand on the boy who sat still upon his lap. “We need you, Payetta.”
She leaned back in her chair, arms folded. “I know it, dammit. Don’t lecture me. I was just talking.”
Justen took down a mental note from Daeken’s masterful performance. It had been pure rea
sonableness with just a trace of insult and a full-blown punch of confidence. He might have to try that sometime. After all, what would Payetta do, deny him sex like the rest of the men’s wives did when they had a spat? He chuckled at the thought of her doing any such thing. She’d probably demand he make love to her more than the usual morning and evening routine they’d fallen into.
“What’s so funny!” demanded Payetta.
Oh crud, had he laughed out loud?
He tried to give her a disarming wink. When it didn’t work, he tried to think of a way to explain the thoughts in his head, but they wouldn’t make sense, so he finally blurted out, “I’ll sleep outside tonight.”
“Like hell you are.” Payetta gave him a harsh glare. “Tonight we go for the record.”
“Whoa! What’s the record?” asked Ian.
“Yeah, tell us about the record,” smiled Kinwick.
“Guys, come on,” snapped Justen, feeling suddenly hot under his shirt.
“Justen, we’re practically family,” whined Jax, turning his hands palm up, and tilting his head sideways in a you-can-trust-me-I’m-your-friend kind of gesture. “We’re not going to—” began Jax, but Payetta cut him off.
“Twenty-seven,” declared Payetta, pride ringing in her voice.
“MY GOODNESS!” shouted Kinwick.
“You’re a freak among men!” shouted Jax. “Hail! Hail to the king of women!”
Ian, Kinwick, and Jax lifted imaginary mugs into the air as they continued to hail Justen.
“All right, enough!” breathed Justen angrily, his cheeks burning. He took a long breath and tried to refocus. “We need to get serious now.”
“Yes M’lord,” said Jax.
Justen shot Jax a long, humorless glare before finally speaking. “Here’s what I’m thinking: we break up into groups of two, go out to the village squares, start spreading the news that we’re forming a resistance group. I think we have two selling points. First, I think we need to let them in on Payetta. It’s time they found out a mage lives amongst them.”