by Ben Hale
“Our advantage will not endure,” Raiden said. “They are many and we are few. Until now the kingdoms choose to remain neutral in our little war.”
“Aye,” Jester said. “But their loyalties might change when they hear we attacked an oracle.”
“We didn’t kill her,” Red said sullenly.
Jester grinned. “You’re just mad she dumped you on your backside.”
Red scowled and rubbed her hindquarters. “I didn’t expect her to talk to my horse.”
“We cannot underestimate the oracles,” Raiden said. “They may be few, but they are more powerful than the Verinai.”
Red sniffed and looked away. “We could have killed her.”
Raiden smiled at that. “Even a fool can kill a king.”
Jester, who’d been chewing on a wedge of cheese, guffawed at the reference to his persona. Bits of cheese scattered into the fire as he laughed. Raiden and Red exchanged an amused look before Red conceded the point.
“She’s stronger than she looks.”
“And will become stronger,” Raiden said. “Once she has more training.”
“The oracles do not train their magics until their second century,” Red said, stabbing a finger at him. “You taught us that.”
“She cracked the hilltop,” Jester said, picking cheese from his goatee. “She’s a powerful one, make no mistake.”
“Then we should have killed her when we had the chance,” Red argued. “If she joins the Verinai—or worse—the rogue council member, we won’t get another chance.”
Raiden listened to the two of them argue, wondering who was right. When Alydian did begin her formal training she would learn to harness every facet of her magic. Then she would be unstoppable, and there were already five powerful oracles to deal with—four he corrected. As strong as Elenyr once was, her declining health made her less of a threat.
While his lieutenants argued, Raiden retreated to his hammock and sank into it. Through the canopy, he spotted a sliver moon and watched its dull light until it disappeared behind a cloud. He fell asleep wondering if Alydian already had a betrothed.
He slept lightly, and woke when a reaver coughed nearby. He doubted the beast could breach the enchantments of the refuge, but he listened until he was certain it had moved on. He’d spotted the tracks of a mind reaver, and suspected one had taken up refuge in the bog. Without eyes or nose, the beast was as sentient as any man. It latched onto the minds of its prey and could track them across continents. He wished he could send one after the Verinai guildmaster, Elsin.
When he woke again it was midday, with sunlight streaming through the branches. He rose and prepared a morning meal, the scent of grilled venison dragging his lieutenants from their hammocks. Jester groaned and stretched, joining him to stoke the fire.
“Where do we strike today?” he rumbled.
“We go east,” Raiden said.
It was a vague answer, but one that Red accepted with a grunt of agreement. They both knew that deciding to attack the mysterious Verinai shipment would allow the oracles time to foresee it. But simply deciding to travel east would keep them ignorant until it was too late.
“Impulse, not decision,” Jester said with a yawn.
They packed for the journey and departed the refuge, using the hidden bridge to escape the bog. Threading their way through the uncertain terrain, they approached the edge of the swamp several miles from where they had entered. Raiden slowed as the trees brightened, and came to a halt at the threshold of light.
Beyond the swamp the ground sloped upward, the hills covered in scattered trees. The strip of earth connected the eastern and western provinces of Griffin. The two provinces dominated the southern and eastern sides of Blue Sea, an enormous inland sea that reached all the way to the dwarven kingdom on the northwest.
Raiden’s gaze was drawn to the sprawling city on a distant hill, the mighty tower rising above the trees. Many regarded the Dawnskeep as the capital of Lumineia. The small city that surrounded the fortress was governed by the Eldress Council, and the land did not belong to any kingdom. At the heart of the city the oracle’s tower pierced the heavens, its battlements obscured by low hanging clouds.
“So much beauty,” Red said, “yet it hides so much filth.”
“Not all mages are vile,” Raiden said, scanning the road that bordered the bog, wondering where a Verinai patrol would hide. “Do not forget how many single talent mages have joined the Defiant.”
As if reading his thoughts, Jester said, “If Alydian marked us, they could be waiting for us on the road.”
Raiden stepped out of the trees and strode to the road. When no soldiers appeared, Jester and Red joined him. They turned northeast and Red threw him a curious look.
“How did you know she did not mark us?”
“A guess,” Raiden replied, “but a good one. Oracles need time to examine the unique energy within a person, and we didn’t really give her time to do so.”
“Are you attracted to her?” Red asked, her tone suspicious.
“Of course not,” Raiden said, but he recalled her beauty and a smile spread on his lips.
Jester smiled slyly. “Our fearless leader favors a foe. How intriguing.”
Raiden forced his emotions away and sidestepped the comment. “We need to stay focused. The oracles are a constant threat.”
“Are you ever going to tell us how you know so much about them?” Red asked.
“I don’t tell tales of the women I’ve known,” Raiden said, eliciting a laugh from Jester.
Dressed like common folk, with Raiden also donning the persona of a human, few spared them a glance as they worked their way east. The road had been built of fine stone, and connected the two human kingdoms with Dawnskeep. Elves were in abundance, with many returning to their homeland. The elven forest of Orláknia surrounded Dawnskeep and extended into patches of trees all the way to the bog they called home. The fair race represented a large portion of the population in the sovereign city.
Elven, human, and Verinai patrols passed them on the road, some in a hurry. Some of the Verinai rode mounts of light or fire, the riders expressions haughty as they galloped by. Red managed to control her tongue until they had departed.
Merchant caravans dominated the road. Stone and coal from the newly discovered mines in southeastern Griffin were piled onto heavily laden wagons, while cloth and food made their way out of Griffin’s western province to supply the eastern province. The people smiled and chatted, and Raiden overheard several whispering tales of the Soldier. Raiden drifted closer to make out one conversation.
“. . . attacked an oracle,” a man on horseback said to a merchant on a wagon.
The woman shook her head. “I thought he was on our side, punishing the Verinai and all.”
The man too seemed discouraged. “Perhaps he merely sought her Verinai guards.”
“The Verinai have been nothing but generous,” another woman insisted. “Without them we’d never have survived the last winter.”
Raiden slowed, allowing the wagon and rider to advance ahead of them. When they were gone Jester spoke in an undertone.
“Many of the people still trust the Verinai.”
“How can they not?” Raiden replied. “They only see the hand providing food and shelter, not the one taking freedom and choice.”
“And many still believe they are kin to the oracles,” Jester said, “and the council is a symbol of benevolence and integrity in spite of the rogue mage.”
Red snorted and stabbed a finger at Dawnskeep. “Yet their city is filled with Verinai and the wealthy.”
“It was not always so,” Jester argued. “My father told many tales of the Eldress Council, especially Elenyr. He even saw her once when she cast her phoenix charm.”
“Power always corrupts,” Red said. “And more power becomes more corruption.”
Raiden let them argue, but stopped them before they became too heated. Red fell to seething. They followed the southern
road until it reached a crossroads. One branch headed south to where Raiden had attacked Alydian and another went north, passing the mine the Defiant used as a temporary refuge. Raiden took the east path, a much smaller trail that wound between increasingly dense stands of trees. Several miles after departing the road they passed a sign indicating Margauth was six days east.
The traffic on the roadway declined sharply, with only woodsmen and locals using the road. Trappers passed them on their way to Griffin, their packs laden with furs to sell. Raiden nodded blandly but kept his distance, and the other travelers did as well. Foregoing the inns, they slept in the trees.
The road continued to narrow as it climbed into the mountains, until they finally attained a pass and the end of the road came into view. Breathing hard from the ascent, they paused to fill their water skins from a brook making its way into the valley.
“That’s the road to Margauth,” Jester said.
Raiden followed his gaze across the valley to where the road climbed into the mountains, disappearing into a pass. Margauth was the most distant of the Verinai strongholds, and little was known about the mysterious fortress. Jester had once been contracted to kill a Verinai in its walls, and was one of the few non-Verinai to see the interior.
A wall barred passage to Margauth, and Verinai patrolled the battlements. Outside the barrier, the road forked north and south. The road north was the shortest route from Margauth to Terros while the road south connected past the Lone Vale to Verisith, the Verinai capital.
“What’s that?” Red asked.
Raiden peered through the trees at the base of the Margauth road, and just managed to make out a small wagon starting its journey south. Usually Verinai shipments employed two score guards and multiple wagons, yet this one appeared to have a handful of soldiers to protect a single cart.
“That’s suspiciously unguarded,” Jester said.
“But it’s moving faster than a larger caravan,” Red said, looking to Raiden. “Asenith and his command are a few days north of here.”
“I doubt we have time to gather any Defiant,” Jester said. “We’d have to attack it ourselves.”
Raiden watched the cart until a stand of trees blocked it from view. He agreed with Jester, but the cart’s coloring and lack of guards suggested the Verinai did not want to call attention to it. If they went north for reinforcements they might not make it back in time. If they went south, they would have to face the wagon’s guards on their own. Making his decision, Raiden tapped the mask hidden in his pack.
“I think we journey south.”
Chapter 6: An Oracle’s Intrigue
For the first time in years, Alydian approached Dawnskeep on a horse instead of inside a lavish wagon. Any other time she would have been relieved at the sense of freedom but, surrounded by wounded soldiers, it was hard to feel anything but worry.
Her gaze lifted to the oracle’s tower as they drew close. Fashioned of dwarven stone and crystal, the tower seemed to pierce the heavens. Windows and balconies clung to its surface, and banners of the Eldress Council displayed their crest, a circle bound by a concave triangle on a backdrop of blue.
A circular wall surrounded the council tower. Lining the exterior, five smaller turrets were home to the five oracle bloodlines. As daughter to the lineage of Elsheeria, Alydian resided in the northernmost tower with her mother. The oracles’ homes boasted crystalline walls and finely hewn stone. The peak of Dawnskeep absorbed the daily sun, turning the tower into a beacon that lasted throughout the night—a lighthouse to the kingdoms of Lumineia.
The fortress had been built shortly after the Dawn of Magic and a city had blossomed around its walls. Merchants and craftsmen gathered from throughout the five kingdoms to speak with an oracle, and every guild maintained a hall in the city. Dominated by inns, taverns, and shops, the city of Horizon catered to the crowds that gathered to seek an oracle’s guidance. Another, smaller wall surrounded the city.
Alydian had always found the sight of the Horizon and Dawnskeep inspiring, but her conversation with the Soldier tainted the view. Unable to dispel her doubt, she lowered her eyes to the city gate. An entire company of soldiers met them at the portal, their Verinai captain riding to Devkin. Alydian recognized him as Commander Othan, a human Verinai in the Runeguard.
“Captain Devkin,” he said, “High Oracle Elenyr commanded us to mobilize, and your rider informed us of the attack. Another company has been dispatched to find the Defiant.” He signaled his men to tend to the wounded. “High Captain Peranin would like to speak to you about how you let this happen.”
Devkin bristled at the veiled accusation, but he inclined his head. “When I have dispatched my duties with Oracle Alydian, I shall answer the summons.”
“I have been ordered to assume command of the oracle’s guard,” Commander Othan replied.
Devkin closed the gap in two strides, coming so close to the Verinai that Othan retreated a step, magic sparking at his fingertips.
“I guard Alydian,” Devkin growled. “Not even High Oracle Elenyr can remove me from my post without Alydian’s express approval.”
Othan sneered. “I’m certain that following your failure, she will be more than happy to—”
“Captain Devkin stays with her,” a voice called.
Othan’s eyes widened in surprise, and he turned to find Oracle Raine striding to join them. “But Oracle, if a Verinai had protected her—”
“The Soldier would have killed them,” Raine replied curtly. “Captain Devkin stays with Alydian.”
He scowled but retreated. “As you order, Oracle.”
When he’d moved to assist the other wounded, Alydian dismounted and stepped to Raine, who pulled her into an embrace. Alydian clung to the sense of safety the woman inspired. When they parted Raine had tears in her eyes.
“When the link was severed, I feared the worst.”
Alydian swallowed as she recalled the Soldier’s blade. “I’m afraid I did not acquit myself well.”
“You’re still standing,” Raine said, smiling in encouragement. “For that I’m grateful.”
“You must have ridden hard to get here before I did,” Alydian said.
“Through the night,” Raine replied. “It was not until I arrived in Horizon that I learned you had survived. Is it true your attacker was the Soldier?”
“It is,” she said.
Raine’s features darkened. “I will kill him myself for what he has done.”
Alydian grinned at the fierce woman. “I’m sure you will.”
“I will care for your guards,” Raine said. “Your mother wishes to speak with you.”
“Thank you, Raine.”
She smiled. “What are sisters for?” They embraced again, and then Raine moved to assist the other wounded soldiers. She moved among them with a smile, healing with a touch.
Alydian swallowed the sudden knot of emotion. Although council members called each other sister, Raine was the only one Alydian thought deserved the title. When Elenyr’s health had deteriorated, it was Raine who had shouldered the weight of instruction, and had taught Alydian for her over two decades. Many nights they’d laughed late into the night, exploring the mischief their magic could do. Her presence after the attack was an unexpected boon.
Devkin stepped to Alydian’s side and lowered his voice. “I would have understood if you wished to relieve me of my command.”
“No one could have stopped the Soldier,” she replied.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Nevertheless, I’m grateful for your continued faith.”
“I cannot stop an inquisition into the attack,” she warned. “High Captain Peranin will want to assign blame.”
“They were prepared for us,” Devkin said, anger and guilt tightening his face. “They buried themselves into the earth so we could not see them, and used anti-magic weaponry to shield themselves from magesight.” He finally turned to face her. “They came to kill you.”
“Yet they did not,” she said.
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“But they could have,” he insisted. “I will make certain they do not get another opportunity.”
She chuckled wryly. “Of that, I have no doubt. Take me home and you can answer his summons.”
“As you order,” he replied.
He remounted his horse and signaled to four of his surviving command. Although injured, they obeyed without question and surrounded Alydian as she rode through the gate into Horizon. The streets were wide and open, all pointing to Dawnskeep at the heart of the city. Onlookers had evidently heard of the attack and lined the street, craning their necks to get a look.
Shouts and calls surrounded Alydian, and she smiled and raised a hand to them, making it clear she had survived. The Verinai among them cast baleful glares at Devkin, but the grizzled soldier ignored them, keeping his focus on potential threats.
As Alydian endured the inspection by the worried citizens, she found her thoughts drawn to her attackers. They had been dressed in homespun clothing and makeshift armor, while the citizens of Horizon wore expensive apparel crafted by skilled artisans and enchanted by Verinai. Colors were vibrant and varied, a bright aura of wealth that shimmered in the afternoon light.
Her eyes swept the crowd but she didn’t spot anyone that resembled the poor that had been present in Terros. The human capital had been filled with beggars on the streets, the sight repeated in the settlements they had passed on their journey. The contrast was disturbing, and she wondered how she’d never noticed it before.
They passed the Verinai guildhall, a gilded complex built more by magic than by hand. A small fortress in its own right, the guildhall encompassed two entire city blocks, and boasted curved walkways that connected the two wings, allowing the Verinai private passage between the two sides of the hall.
Passing under the Verinai arch, she rode to Dawnskeep and entered the Oracle’s Gate. Once inside the courtyard, she finally dropped her smile and reigned in her mount. Then she wearily dismounted, wincing at the soreness in her body. Noticing her halting motion, Devkin grinned.