Battle Mage: Winds of Change
By
Donald L. Wigboldy Jr.
Copy Write September 2015
For World Maps and More Go To:
https://www.facebook.com/BattleMageATaleOfAlus
Other books by Donald L. Wigboldy Jr.
From the Tales of Alus series:
The High King: A Tale of Alus
The Emperor’s Shadow War
Battle Mage: A Tale of Alus
Battle Mage: Winter’s Edge
Battle Mage: The Lost King
Battle Mage: Dragon Mage
Battle Mage: Dark Mage
Battle Mage: A Hero’s Welcome
Battle Mage: Forging New Steel
White Hall
Modern Tales:
Voran the Night Guardian
Standing Before Monsters
The Mermaid’s Chest
Chapter 1- New Harbor
The sun was warm with the heat of summer, but a pleasant breeze wafted through the city propelled from the winds coming over the waters of the straight connecting the Glacian Ocean to the North Sea. Even though the massive islands of Marianis and Sileoth blocked the largest of ocean waves, the ocean wind seemed to love following the channel from west Southwall all the way to the eastern seaside cities like New Harbor. One of the more important trade cities in the kingdom, ships came from many different lands to the city hoping to sell their goods. With only the capitol city of Hala far to the northeast being a greater source of wealth beyond the trade city, New Harbor was a city of riches as well.
New Harbor was just one of several cities in the kingdom of Southwall which had been getting stirred up of late feeling that they were giving money to a king who lived too far away to understand their needs. Men had sprung up pushing for change. One of those changes was to separate New Harbor from Southwall to become its own city state or even to unite with the other southern cities to make a country of their own.
"Men and women of New Harbor, why do we keep sending this northern king our money for a war that has been over for a century? One wonders if it ever existed in the first place. We let them take our children to their wizard schools or to become soldiers, but do they bother to send them back to us to protect our city?
"King Alain merely takes leaving us nothing in return! Rise up my friends! We can tell the king we want him no more. New Harbor can be its own city free of the king's taxes. We can rule ourselves. We don't need Alain up on his frozen throne telling us what to do."
The man standing on a simple wooden box had been crying this for weeks. With other men around him nodding and trying to lead those who would listen to join their cause, he would go on until the local guards made them move away; but always they would return.
A young man leaned against a wall in sight of the men nodding as well. Though not as obviously stirred by every point as those surrounding the speaker, he caught the eye of one of the recruiters. The watcher had been listening attentively nearly the entire time and their leader had been speaking for quite awhile.
The recruiter looked around as he moved, perhaps looking for others who resonated with the message. However, his worry over the city guards returning was part of the other reason that the man searched the crowd and beyond as well.
"Does your heart believe as Master Ileden professes, my young friend? You look like someone who can see reason. Surely you can agree that sending our money and children to the north for a war that has nothing to do with us should stop. The king acts like New Harbor is his chest of gold just waiting for him to open it over and over, while the king of Southwall gives us nothing back to show for our effort."
A young man of slightly above average height, he had brown hair and blue eyes that looked almost gray under a hazy sky. Listening to the question, he started to nod, but asked in return, "I can see that if the king continues to just take, we shouldn't stand for it; but what if we do separate? Should we join with the other southern cities? Surely one city can't stand alone without an army?"
Blinking in surprise at the agreeable listener, the recruiter looked unsure of how to answer his question. "Master Ileden has said that he and the other separatists have been discussing that with the nobles of the city. They have guards and I am sure that many of those serving in the garrison can stand as soldiers. Besides, when was the last time any city has been attacked in recent history?
"There aren't any pirates like before the Cataclysm and the rest of the lands around us are all friends. If you don't believe me, we can go talk to Master Ileden or one of our other leaders. They can discuss it with you much better than I.
"Should I expect that you will want to go to our headquarters to learn more? Smart young men like yourself will be necessary to help us break free from King Alain and his stingy army."
Surprisingly, the young man nodded slowly. "Maybe if Master Ileden can explain it to me, I could see joining your cause."
"OUR cause," the recruiter said with a big smile as his work yielded fruit. "All of us living in or near New Harbor will certainly benefit from this, so it isn't just for us that we wish to act."
The recruiter, who was older than the new candidate, kept wanting to refer to his new friend as a boy; but it was better to flatter a man than talk down to him. "My name is Tylen. What is yours, my friend?"
"They call me Trillon," he replied without revealing much more than his name.
"Trillon? Well, ok, Trillon, we..."
Whistles began to sound from off to the recruiter's right interrupting his greeting. "Great, the counts' guards again. He sends them to get rid of us every so often. If you want to know more of our movement, then follow me."
Guards wearing the blue and red of Southwall's colors entered clacking spears against walls or on the ground attempting to scatter the light crowd. Not everyone nearby the speaker was actually standing around listening to the speech since they were also close enough to some businesses. The owners also looked less than happy to have the rally going on so close to their doorsteps. In fact, several whistles and cheers could be heard as the guards closed on the men.
"How many times do we have to do this, Ileden?" the lead guard asked loud enough to be heard by the recruiter and his newest prize. It proved that this wasn't close to the first time these guards had been called to disperse the man and his people.
Before they could hear the master's response, Tylen had disappeared down the far side of the street with the young Trillon in tow.
They didn't speak often, but Tylen continued to check behind him to make sure his prize didn't get lost.
Hurrying through stone paved streets between buildings mostly painted white or tan to reflect the warm southern sun, colors used to avoid focusing its heat on the city that was warm much of the year despite perching on the southern tip of North Continent; the two men barely took the time to look at the other pedestrians around them. Most wore light and airy looking clothing. Bright colors were common in New Harbor. Like a refusal to join the pale paint of the buildings of the city, the citizens seemed to pick the brightest colors they could find. Most were still coordinated in their colors, but Tylen winced at a few of those mixing colors that just shouldn't be combined.
He noted the browns of the young man and asked, "You don't like to wear the flashy stuff of these silly folk, huh? You seem more grounded. Maybe that's why you can see the intelligence of separating from Southwall. Too many of these people have fluff for brains.
"Maybe it's the weather here? Too much heat has addled their brains," he laughed at his own joke.
The you
ng man smiled with less conviction and asked, "Does that mean you aren't from around here, Tylen? I mean, if you are preaching to separate, surely you have some tie to New Harbor?"
Trying to hide a start that halted the swing of his step for a moment, the older man chuckled as he tried make up for the slip. "Well, I came from a farm to the northwest actually. I only came to the city after I was a young man when I realized that farming wasn't for me."
"Your father was a farmer then," Trillon stated half questioning the man on what should be obvious.
Tylen frowned while he faced away from the younger man, but recovered his smile as he turned back to reply, "Of course, why wouldn't he be?"
Clearing his throat, the older man tried to push back as he asked, "And how about you? Have you always lived in New Harbor?"
"No, I was born on a farm to the north also. I came south on business more recently," Trillon replied without effort. His voice sounded like he was bored with his past and gave little opening beyond the answer settling Tylen into silence again.
After a few twists and turns, the two men came to a building that looked like it had been deserted. Boards covered windows, though occasional storms blowing through the channel could also account for such things; but no storms had occurred recently to warrant such measures.
Two men stepped from the doorway seeing their approach. Tylen raised his hand and stated, "I have someone interested in our agenda. Has Master Ileden or one of the other leaders returned yet?"
Neither guard looked overly happy with his question. The man on the right countered in a surly voice, "You've brought someone that hasn't been cleared by one of the leaders? Are you an idiot, Tylen?"
"What? The kid can ask his questions and then stay or go. It doesn't matter if they've met him yet. They can meet him now. The kid looks strong and already agrees with our philosophy, so what's the problem?"
The man grumbled something under his breath, but finally waved them through saying, "Master Wiler is inside, but I'm not sure if any of the others have arrived yet. What happened to Ileden that you left him behind?"
"Just the count's guards making him clear out again. They don't even bother taking him to the garrison brig anymore. They call him by name when they tell him to go away," Tylen laughed it off as he moved forward followed by the younger Trillon.
The guards held up their hands to the younger man's approach and stated, "Not until we search you for weapons. No one visits the speakers until we know that it is safe."
Spreading his legs and placing his hands against the wall, Trillon accepted being checked for knives. He had no blade or other weapon on him, so after a moment the men nodded giving him a pass.
"He's clean," the man stated receiving a slight sigh from the new candidate as if he was bored with their attempts to intimidate him with their tactics. It had been obvious that he couldn't have carried anything larger than a pocket knife, but the big men had made sure that he knew that they had authority over him even so.
"Obviously," Tylen retorted shaking his head and escorting his new friend inside.
Darkness ruled the entry to the massive building. A former warehouse, it had been left abandoned for a few years, but the new separatist movement had given it new purpose. More men were inside. Supplies like bedding, food and barrels of water or ale were grouped with like items. The smell of food was even in the air, though it was a fainter presence than something being freshly cooked.
As their adopted home, the movement cooked and slept inside the warehouse as well as doing their planning for each day's attempt to sway the public's viewpoint.
"Ah, there he is," Tylen pointed towards a group of men. One wore a robe and if one had the eyes of a skilled wizard, they would know that he held power as well. Three others held magic, but their attention wasn't on the entrance as much as the table with scrolls and maps spread out before them. "Master Wiler, I have a new recruit to meet you."
The dark man wearing an outfit that looked similar to a wizard's robe turned appearing annoyed at being interrupted. "Tylen, what do you want? Can't you get Ileden to take care of your candidates?"
Shrugging even as the recruiter moved closer to the group of men, Tylen replied, "He was detained by the guards. I thought maybe you could take a minute to meet my new friend, Trillon."
Wiler moved his frown from the recruiter to the recruit and never lessened his disapproval, but he replied, "I guess I can take a minute."
His face changed slightly as if he was confused by what he saw. "Tylen, how did you find this man?"
"He was just listening to Ileden speaking. I noticed a kinship between him and our beliefs. Why do you ask? It is pretty much the way we always find new followers."
Not responding to the man immediately; Wiler barely took another step forward easily leaving at least ten long strides between him the new man. His fingers began to move slightly and the movements weren't meant to be caught by the new recruit. In response, the other men around the table shifted into a half circle with the master at their peak.
"Wait! What's going on?" Tylen asked warily. "Master Wiler, seriously, aren't we supposed to make our new recruit feel more comfortable?"
"If that is what he intends to be," the man in the robe replied still eyeing the younger man. Wiler was slightly taller with raven hair. His brown eyes seemed to glow to Trillon, though the recruiter still could see nothing beyond the strangely aggressive stance of the other men. "Trillon, is that your first name or last?"
"Last," Trillon answered matter-of-factly. Though the others were tense, the younger man appeared as relaxed as if he were among friends in truth.
"You have an... air about you," Wiler stated as he continued to size up Trillon before him. His look turned towards confusion and he revealed why, "I can't read you. You seem to have magic about you, but I can't seem to focus on it. You aren't dulling your aura, but your magic is low."
Looking at Tylen quickly, the master asked, "He was checked for weapons by the guards?"
"Yup, and they were pretty thorough about it too," Tylen replied backing to the side to stay out of the stare of the master and his men. The tension had begun to draw others in the warehouse towards the group. Men with weapons found their hands on the hilt of swords or bared long knives that could slit a throat very easily in the dark. "He was clean they said. I mean look at him. You couldn't hide more than a small knife in a boot maybe."
"You could if you knew how," the younger man replied calmly, yet in such a way that he seemed ready to bait the other men. "So can I ask my questions now?"
Master Wiler frowned and shook his head, "You are the visitor and supplicant here. You will answer my questions first. Why do I sense magic on you?"
Trillon shrugged prolonging the stalemate as more noise came from the doorway they had entered. Eyes looked past him and even turned, save for Wiler who couldn't seem to understand what he was seeing.
"Master Ileden!" Tylen called out with a wave. "I brought a new recruit that Master Wiler seems unable to approve of, sir."
The second master hurried his steps until he too stopped in caution. The younger man's back was to him, but Ileden's eyes swept to the other master questioningly as he also sensed something about the young man.
"Did you notice him in the square?" Wiler asked the man newly entered into the situation.
"No, I think I would have noticed him too, unless he was intentionally hiding from me."
Trillon looked over his shoulder and his eyes seemed to glow a moment as he looked at the master. Ileden could see the use of magic as most with trained sight could. Users of magic who looked for auras could see each other's use of such magic.
"He's a wizard?" Ileden questioned without surety.
"I am not, but even if I were, this is hardly the way to try and recruit me to your cause," Trillon stated simply as he returned his look to Wiler. "Does this mean you aren't going to answer my questions and let me join?"
Sensing his sarcasm easily, Wiler frowned at the sli
ght and said to the others, "Restrain him. We'll see if Count Terris has grown bold enough to send a spy into our midst. Maybe those guards were meant to distract you long enough for him to find our safe house."
Smirking at the warlocks before him, Trillon replied, "How about I take you all prisoner instead? Reflex!"
The final word sped up the man as he moved into motion. A black rune appeared lifting from his right arm expanding into the air. His hand reached into the darkness only to return with a black sword in an instant. With his left hand, the man called out, "Sleep."
His hand caught Tylen on the forehead dropping the man into a lump even as he moved forward.
The warlocks had been prepared and Wiler cast a shield of fire in front him. It reached forward unlike most shield wall spells. Attacking like a wave of fire, the flame attempted to engulf the battle mage now that the warlock understood what Trillon must be.
"Darkness shield," the mage countered letting a shield of night catch the flames. Like the oxygen had been taken from the fire, the darkness swallowed the warlock's spell and seemed to strengthen as well.
The other men centered on the warlock attacked with more flame, but the sword followed the darkness. Like night trapped in steel, the blade looked sharp. It was lightweight as well and moved like lightning in the battle mage's enhanced hands. His speed was great, but these soldiers weren't ordinary either. Nearly countering his speed, the mage knew that they had been enhanced by magic as well.
Some of the fire had touched the men, but their leather clothing was dyed black and appeared to absorb the flames similarly to his spell. Wizard hunters, these were trained to fight and subdue normal wizards and warlocks. With armor created to absorb elemental spells, they were dangerous fighters who could even fight battle mages at speed as they moved to attack him with their blades.
The black blade began to sweep in an arc as if to ward off their attacks. A desperate measure for a swordsman to reveal so soon; they grew confident, but a second repetition of the word sleep sent what looked like reddish dust along the blade. The dust sprayed the line of men. Where it touched the leather armor it lingered, but was not absorbed. When it touched skin or was inhaled by the shorter men, it caused the soldiers to draw back looking stunned. Those who caught enough of the dust joined Tylen collapsing to the ground.
Battle Mage: Winds of Change (The High King: A Tale of Alus Book 11) Page 1