"There are far more goblins than I expected," Tanya murmured. "I do not see how Midge is going to lure them all into the trap."
"Prince Midge alone cannot do that," Jenneva replied. "That is what we are here for. We are going to make that plain into a very inhospitable place for the goblins. We will start at the south and work northward. The idea is to cause most of the goblins to migrate towards the trap. When the Goblin Killer appears we want them to be very anxious to chase after him. Fear of staying on the plain will help them decide to give chase."
"So I am to provide security for you while you cast your spells?" queried Tanya. "Do you want a shield or should I just stand guard?"
"Neither," laughed Jenneva. "I suspect you are more powerful than you have let on. Today we shall see what you are made of. Do not use any projectile spells that will give away our position. Anything else is fair game."
"You want me to use offensive magic to kill goblins?" frowned Tanya.
"Yes, lass, I do," responded Jenneva. "Do you have a problem with using magic to kill?"
Tanya did not answer for a few moments. "I haven't used magic to kill before," she finally admitted.
"Is it really any different than using your bow?" queried Jenneva.
"Yes," Tanya replied quickly. "My bow is a weapon. It is meant for killing and protection. Using magic as a weapon is dangerous."
"Of course it is dangerous," frowned Jenneva. "That is what makes it such a potent weapon."
"That is not what I meant," retorted Tanya. "I meant that it is dangerous to the caster. Magic is a power that must be respected and used sparingly. It is too easy to become addicted to using magic to kill, and the caster can be turned to the dark side when she becomes heady with her power."
"You have had a kind and cautious tutor," Jenneva smiled thinly. "There is always a danger of becoming enamored with the power of magic, but is it not the same with mundane weapons? Is there not a risk of a great swordsman becoming so impressed with his own skills that he ends up bullying the less skilled?"
"Alex never did," pondered Tanya. "He must be the greatest swordsman that ever lived, but I would never consider him a bully."
"Because it is not in his nature to become one," smiled Jenneva. "I do not think it is in your nature either. Your tutor was wise to warn you, but I have little fear of you being drawn to the dark side."
"You do not even know who I am," reminded Tanya. "How can you be so sure that I can resist it?"
"Because I can see that you are afraid of it," answered Jenneva. "You have an inner strength that will not allow you to succumb to the dark side. I am fairly sure of that, but if you do not wish to aid me that is understandable. I surely would not force you to do something you are uncomfortable with. For all I know, you may not have even been taught any offensive magic. And if you were, it may not be that strong. Keep watch for me then."
Tanya noticed the sly grin on Jenneva's face as she ended her statement and knew it was a taunt to get Tanya to join in. Tanya was not prone to falling for such ploys, and she turned her attention back to the plain. As she watched the great goblin army assemble for its attack, she pondered Jenneva's words. Tanya had been taught offensive magic, as she had been taught the skills of using mundane weapons, but she had never had to resort to using such magic before.
"How do you avoid the lure of the dark side?" Tanya suddenly asked Jenneva.
"There is no lure of the dark side for me," Jenneva answered. "My Master, Egam, warned me of the lure before I started to study dark magic, but I have never experienced any desire to exert my will over innocents."
"You mean that you actually studied the dark arts?" questioned Tanya.
"Oh yes," nodded Jenneva. "They are very powerful, but they also give me an unclean feeling when I use them. It is that feeling that convinces me that I will never succumb to the dark side. I derive no pleasure from using those skills, but my knowledge of them is important to me. It enables me to understand the threats that I might face from those who do use them."
"My tutor would not even think of teaching me the dark skills," murmured Tanya. "He has fears of people learning them."
"Interesting," Jenneva replied. "I would like to meet your tutor some day. What is his name?"
"They are moving the siege engines forward!" Tanya exclaimed.
Jenneva spun and stared out over the plain. "The siege engines must be stopped," she declared as huge fireballs were tossed by the catapults towards the wall around Tice.
Jenneva's brow furrowed as she concentrated on her spell. Her arms rose before her as if that would help direct the spell. Suddenly the ground in the center of the plain trembled. Goblins stumbled and struggled to remain erect as the trembling grew in intensity. As the ground rippled, the large moveable towers started toppling over. The towers smashed to the ground and goblins were thrown from their hiding places within.
As Jenneva turned her attention to the battering rams, she stole a glance at Tanya to see her reaction and was surprised to see the young magician's eyes closed in concentration. As Jenneva looked back at the plain she saw a tremendous dark cloud hovering over the catapults. The cloud erupted into a tremendous downpour as massive amounts of water showered down upon the burning fires around the catapults. Smiling inwardly, Jenneva sent bolts of lighting streaking down into the battering rams. The rams literally exploded, sending shards of wood into the goblins around them.
"That was an excellent choice," Jenneva said softly. "It made my lightning bolts almost natural."
Jenneva turned her attention to the southern end of the plain as the goblins in the center swarmed around the remains of the siege engines. The ground at the southern end of the plain began to tremble, but not as it had near the siege engines. This time the ground started to ripple as waves upon the sea. The ripples started out small at the far end of the plain and traveled northward. The waves grew as they traveled and then suddenly died as they approached the center of the plain. Goblins began falling to the ground and scrambling towards the siege engines when they could regain their footing. Some started running towards the forest for protection and Jenneva grumbled.
"I will take care of them," offered Tanya.
Jenneva merely nodded as she maintained her concentration on the rippling spell. She smiled to herself as large trees started magically falling from the leading edge of the forest wherever goblins were heading towards the woods. The goblins that had planned on seeking sanctuary in the forest turned and ran northward. Jenneva slowly increased the height of the waves and the goblins on the southern end of the plain fled northward.
"Time to extend the distance the waves travel," suggested Tanya.
"Yes," nodded Jenneva. "Some are charging towards Tice. Can you keep them away from the walls?"
"I can," answered Tanya as she murmured something under her breath.
Small whirlwinds sprouted outside the walls of Tice. The whirlwinds grew in size and intensity as the goblins approached. By the time the first goblins neared the walls of Tice, the whirlwinds had grown into raging tornados. The large black funnels sucked up anything in the strip before the walls and as the tornados grew in size the size of the clear zone before the walls widened.
"Impressive," commented Jenneva as her rippling-ground spell advanced past the center of the plain. "You can sweep up whatever is left behind."
"Thankfully, you are not leaving much behind," responded Tanya.
"The Goblin Killer just appeared," announced Jenneva.
Tanya turned her head northward and saw a huge likeness of Alexander Tork standing at the north end of the plain. The image was easily twice the size of the real Alex, and his body was covered in blood, as was his sword. Tanya shivered at the sight of the illusion.
"Is that really what he looked like?" asked Tanya.
"Yes," nodded Jenneva. "He was so soaked in goblin blood that his superiors thought he was mortally wounded. He was around your age at the time."
"The goblins are charging toward
s him," declared Tanya.
"As they should," responded Jenneva. "There is nobody more hated by the goblins than Alexander Tork. Killing Alex would be more of a victory to them than sacking Tice."
"But he is really there," frowned Tanya. "Chasing the image into a trap is fine, but was it wise for Alex to stay there? There are thousands of goblins, and they all appear to be leaving the plain to chase him."
"I can not say if it was a wise decision," stated Jenneva, "but I have learned not to try to dictate to him. What I can do is help him with the odds. We have driven them all northward as we were supposed to. I ask no more of you, but I must continue to help."
"What can I do to help?" asked Tanya.
"It is time for killing," warned Jenneva. "It will not be the kind of magic you wish to remember. I must do it for Alex, as he would for me. This is not something you need to be involved in."
Jenneva started casting lightning bolts into large clumps of running goblins. The bolts streaked towards the ground so swiftly that the northern end of the plain was hard to look at, as dozens of brilliant flashes erupted simultaneously.
"The Alcea Rangers are a part of me now," interjected Tanya. "If I cannot handle the use of my magic to help them, then I should give up using magic."
Jenneva did not break her concentration to respond, but she smiled inwardly as giant hailstones, as large as oranges, plummeted into the ranks of the goblins. The northern end of the plain became a massive graveyard as the large balls of hard ice struck down hundreds of goblins, while hundreds more were blown apart by Jenneva's lightning bolts. The image of the Goblin Killer receded rapidly northward drawing the main body of the goblins into the waiting trap. Within minutes there was nothing moving on the plain below them, and Jenneva ended her spell and sat down on the ground. Tanya sat next to her.
"You are a most impressive magician," smiled Jenneva as she tried to catch her breath. "I thought you were more powerful than you were letting on, but I would never have guessed you were this powerful. I am proud to work alongside you."
"It is my honor to be by your side," retorted Tanya. "Most mages would give a great deal to work with the famous Jenneva. I think you have made me look at my fears in a new light as well. Perhaps too much caution is not a good thing for a mage. Perhaps you can teach me of the dark side."
Jenneva nodded silently, but she frowned inwardly. She thought back to Egam's warning about the dark side. While the temptation had never affected her, could she be sure that Tanya would be able to resist? The young mage was hesitant at first to take a life magically and ended up killing hundreds in a few moments. Was the lass's change in attitude a warning sign that maybe the dark side was already taking a hold of her?
"We will discuss that later," Jenneva declared. "Now we should rejoin the others. I hope our actions have helped to even the odds, but we may need to use healing magic. Try to rest as we ride. Yorra and Frea know the way."
Chapter 3
Contest of Power
The servant walked into the strangest sitting room in Tagaret and nodded to the two mercenary guards stationed near the door. The sitting room was unique in its modifications. While the room sported a generous width, the depth of the room was clearly undersized. There were no couches or stuffed chairs in the room. The lone pieces of furniture were two wooden chairs with seats that were too small for an average sized person. The chairs were also shorter than normal, making them rather uncomfortable to sit on. Both chairs sat on the bare wooden floor near the wall opposite the entrance door. A section of the wall between the chairs was covered with a silkscreen square that acted like a window to the next room. Other than a few torches spread around the room, the special silkscreen was the only embellishment to adorn the walls.
The servant crossed the room and sat in one of the chairs. He stared pensively at the silkscreen and blinked involuntarily when torches were lit in the next room. The silkscreen square was illuminated from behind. The backlighting turned the silkscreen into a kind of hazy window. He watched as a shadowy and ill-defined figure approached the window from the other side of the wall. The mysterious figure seated himself on the other side of the silkscreen. The servant could make out the outlines of a grand turban adorning the figure's head.
"I have a task for you," intoned a mysterious voice.
"As you wish, Master," replied the servant as he turned to glance at the guards. The sentries were too far away to hear the conversation, but both of them were extremely alert. Their eyes never left the servant and their hands held throwing knives. It appeared to the servant that they would strike given the least provocation.
"You are to carry a message to Duke Everich, Head of the Council of Tagaret," commanded the voice. "Remember these words and quote them directly to the duke."
The servant nodded nervously.
"The Contest of Power begins anew," declared the voice. "Your life is in danger. You are granted an interview if you so desire, but I will allow you only one other person to accompany you. Time is not your ally."
The servant closed his eyes as he concentrated on memorizing the words. The voice demanded that the servant repeat the message and then the lighting beyond the window flickered out. As the servant rose to leave, he heard the final words from beyond the window.
"Do not dally."
The perspiring servant looked over his shoulder at the darkened window as he hurried out of the room. When he arrived at Duke Everich's residence, a Targan soldier escorted him to the Duke's study. Duke Everich was speaking to Duke Jiardin when the servant arrived. Duke Everich looked annoyed by the distraction and the servant began perspiring profusely.
"What is it?" demanded Duke Everich.
"I have a private message, Sir," croaked the servant as he glanced at Duke Jiardin.
"Well give it to me and leave," demanded the Head of the Council.
"It is a verbal message, Sir," responded the servant.
"From whom?" questioned Duke Everich.
"My master, Sir," the servant answered nervously. "I do not know his name. None of the servants do."
Duke Everich sighed and nodded to Duke Jiardin, who was the only member of the Council that he shared anything with. Duke Jiardin nodded and left the room.
"Where does your master reside?" quizzed Duke Everich after Jiardin left the room.
The servant described the location of the estate and Duke Everich nodded and asked for the message. The servant nervously repeated the short message and grew afraid as he watched the reaction of Duke Everich.
"Your master has rude behavior," growled Duke Everich. "What does he look like?"
"I do not know," the servant confessed. "He is never seen by the staff."
"Perhaps a night in the dungeon will refresh your memory," snarled Duke Everich. "You cannot expect me to believe that nobody ever sees this person or knows his name. Someone must bring him food and tend to his needs."
"None of the staff are allowed near him," the shaking servant replied. "His meals are served in an empty dining room and the remains are collected later. He has no body servants that I know of, Sir. I have never seen anything like it in all my days, but his pay is the best in the city. You must believe me, Sir. I would gladly tell you anything that I know."
Duke Everich paced the floor for a few moments as he digested the information from the servant. He knew much about the estate in question as he had ordered it researched by the Palace staff. Duke Everich had not clawed his way to the top without keeping tabs on everyone of any importance in Tagaret. The new owner of the estate had tried hard to keep his name from appearing in the transaction by actually having the property sold through several intermediaries, but the Palace staff was thorough and had discovered the name of the real purchaser.
What bothered Duke Everich the most, was that the name that was discovered belonged to a man presumed long dead. It was also a name that caused a shiver of fear to course through his body, and the Duke was not a fearful man.
"You may go," th
e Duke finally told the servant. "You will mention nothing of what I said in this room. If you do, you will spend the rest of your pitifully short life in the bowels of the Royal Prison. Get out."
The servant's body shook visibly as he hurried out of the room. Duke Jiardin entered almost immediately.
"The servant appeared to be in a hurry to leave," smirked Duke Jiardin. "I hope his message was not ill received."
"His master is a man that could cause great troubles for us," frowned Duke Everich. "I think it is time that I met him. You will join me. I value your insight."
"Who are we going to meet?" questioned Duke Jiardin.
"The mystery man that we were discussing earlier," Duke Everich replied softly. "It is time to find out if he really exists."
Duke Jiardin nodded grimly as they left the room. Duke Everich shouted orders and a detachment of Targa soldiers were ready at the front of the mansion by the time he exited the front door. Their destination was not a long trip and soon they were at the gates of the mysterious mansion. Duke Everich looked out of the carriage at the large number of mercenaries behind the gate and shook his head. Instead of the gate opening widely to allow entry, it only opened wide enough for one of the mercenaries to slip out. The mercenary approached the carriage and knocked on the door before opening it and sticking his head in.
"Duke Everich," greeted the mercenary. "You are expected and your carriage will be allowed through the gates. Your men must remain outside though."
"My men, as you call them, are soldiers of Targa," retorted Duke Everich. "They will accompany me for my protection."
Abuud: the One-Eyed God Page 3