Severed Empire: Wizard's Rise

by Phillip Tomasso

  There was a fog inside his head. Mercer could not clear it. He understood the task, but knew there was something else, something more about it which he couldn’t recall. It was right there. Just in front of him. But invisible. He hated when that happened, like when he misplaced the name of a friend within his mind. He knew it, of course he knew it, but at the moment the name escaped him.

  He knew he was supposed to protect the ship, but . . . there was something about the ship, something about the order he was mentally unable to grasp it.

  The port inside the cove was littered with small, modest houses, and shops. Vendors sold fish, netting, and bait. There weren’t too many people around. In fact, it had been some time since he’d seen a single soul. It didn’t matter. Instead, he enjoyed the stillness; the quiet sound of waves lapping against the pillars supporting piers, and the hulls of the boats. The air was filled with salt mixed with fish. Such a distinct and pleasingly pungent odor. He breathed in deep through his nostrils and savored it.

  Mercer saw six riders approaching long before he heard the hoof beats. The line of horses trailed a long thin cloud of dust behind them. They headed through the port toward the dock, toward the ship Mercer was instructed to defend.

  There was no need to squint. He recognized the sigil on the rider’s banner. King Nabal’s Watch. News about The Shadow had spread.

  The Shadow.

  That was not a Voyager ship name.

  Mercer looked around. He was forgetting something, and knew it was important.

  The riders approached, stopping just shy of the docks. One man climbed from his horse. He wore a breastplate, and chain mesh. He removed his helmet and walked toward the ship.

  “My name is Sir Lanster,” he said. He set the helmet under an arm. His free hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “We’ve been told you recently docked?”

  “That’s right, sir,” Mercer said. The urge to jump from the ship onto the dock and engage the knight in a duel nearly consumed him. He blinked his eyes over and over, the only way he could think of forestalling the sensation.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Mercer looked left and right. Men were behind him with their weapons at the ready. “We’re okay.”

  “I come at the request of the King. What is your business in this realm?” Lanster had stopped advancing.

  “We are protecting the ship,” Mercer said.

  “From what?”

  “Everything,” he said.

  “For how long?” Lanster said.

  “Until they return, I suppose,” he said.

  “Until who returns?”

  “The Mountain King,” Mercer said. He chewed at his lower lip. Warm, coppery blood filled his mouth.

  “And where has the Mountain King gone?”

  “To the forest, of course,” Mercer said.

  “The Cicade?”

  “I imagine. I’m not sure.”

  Lanster said to a man behind him. “It’s as if he’s bewitched.”

  “I see that, sir,” the man said.

  “And what is your name?” Lanster said.

  “Mercer, sir.”

  “Mercer. Are you from Osiris?”

  He shook his head. It was tough to stop. He felt dizzy from the movement. “No, sir. I’m a Voyager.”

  Lanster said, “Have you been cursed?”

  “I have, sir. We all have. Can you help us?”

  Lanster did not know how he could help. He wasn’t sure he understood what was going on. While he believed magic had been used, it was something he’d never witnessed before. Magic was something he never believed existed in the first place. The stories of wizards and magicians always came across as fables shared with children. And yet, he recognized the oddity of the men in front of him as off. Most off. “The Mountain King knows magic?” Lanster said.

  “No, sir. The sorcerer with him does. She’s powerful. Scary, dangerous, and powerful,” he said.

  “Will you come down from the ship and attack my king’s people?”

  “No, sir.” Mercer re-gripped the hold on his weapon, agitated. He was shaking his head again, though, as if in conflict with some internal battle. “But you can’t have this ship! We will defend it to the death.”

  Lanster held up a hand. The man’s tone of voice changed. He sounded suddenly harsh, vicious. Lanster thought he might understand the parameters of the spell, the boundaries set. He could be wrong. He hoped he was not. “You may keep the ship. No one will try to take it away from you. It is yours.”

  “It is the Mountain King’s ship. Not mine. Not ours.” Mercer breathed more easily. “Thank you, sir.”

  Lanster turned around and addressed his knights. “Two men stay here. Do not let anyone near this ship. Is that command understood? No one goes near that ship. If the men on that ship decide to step onto King Nabal’s dock, kill them.” Lanster said, put on his helmet and mounted his horse. “Everyone else, follow me!”

  Chapter 29

  Copper lived above his candle shop. It wasn’t much of a dwelling. There was the one room with a table and two chairs, a lumpy bed on a wood frame, and little else. The impressive part was the bookcase that lined the walls. Copper had hundreds of books. Mykal shook his head in disbelief, but didn’t say anything.

  “I understand there are three more of you,” Copper said.

  “They are outside,” Blodwyn said.

  Copper pulled a tin can from a shelf in the kitchen area and dropped the purse of coins inside before replacing it. “Well. As you can see, we can’t all fit in here. Why don’t we go across the street? The tavern isn’t much either, but they’ve got ale and bread, and goat meat.”

  Mykal dropped a hand over his stomach, unable to muffle the long and loud rumble.

  “Sounds like the lad is hungry.” Copper laughed.

  They crossed the road together. Copper walked as confidently as any seeing-abled person. Mykal surmised the man had memorized his surroundings. Maybe he counted off steps, or went based on smell, or sound, or a combination. It didn’t matter how he did it, Mykal was impressed.

  Blodwyn waved over Quill, Anthony and Galatia, and introduced them to Copper.

  Lanterns lit the place. There were long dark wood tables with benches, and smoke filling the top few feet of head space from the meat cooking on a spit over an open fire. Above was a square hole in the roof. Sunlight filtered in, and some of the smoke spilled out.

  The front counter was long, ‘L’ shaped, and low with barrels of ale stacked behind it.

  A lone man sat at one of the tables. His left leg jetted out in front of him. His pants had been torn, making room for a bandage wrapped from ankle to knee. A walking stick with a half circle handle rested beside him. His hands were curled around a mug. His head was bowed slightly, but his eyes followed them.

  “Mining accident,” Copper said, as if he knew the man was inside the tavern, and as if he’d also known Mykal was staring.

  Quill, and Anthony yelled for ale.

  The seven of them sat at the largest table.

  “There’s a stable around the corner. Perfect place for the horses,” Quill said.

  “Patton’s place. It’s exactly what I had in mind,” Copper said. “Don’t fret about the details. I’ll handle that. Patton’s a good man. Loves his animals.”

  Mykal took some comfort in the fact. He’d take them after they ate, see to it that they were properly fed and brushed.

  Anthony whistled. “My goodness,” he said.

  Mykal noticed the woman. She wore a long black skirt, and white blouse barely contained more than ample breasts. Her soft brown hair was long, curly, and draped over her shoulders and down her back.

  “Meat, bread and ale for everyone,” Copper said.

  “Before we do anything, I am going to want some time out back with the lady.” Anthony laughed, and slapped his hand on the table.

  “Don’t be an animal,” Quill said.

  “I’m just saying,” Anthony said.

>   “And I’m just telling you!” Quill’s jaw set.

  “Copper,” Mykal said, changing the subject. “I’m curious about something. In your place, you had so many books.”

  Copper’s face lit up. His smile widened. His eyes still traveled across the room, wild as if he were being stalked and was in search of the source. “My books. You want to know why a blind man like me has so many books.”

  “I was, actually.”

  “When I was young, I learned to read. It was one of the best things my parents ever did for me. Teach me to read. We had one book in our home, and I read it over and over and over. I always wanted to read other books. There are books written about everything. I pledged to read them all.” Copper pointed at his eyes. “Now, I just collect them. Many nights, when I have trouble sleeping, I select a book, and just run my hands over the leather bindings, and my fingertips across each page. Silly as it may sound, I find it very relaxing, and somehow, satisfying.”

  The meat was fat and gristle. They ate every bite.

  ***

  Outside, the workers returned to the village from the mines, covered in black. Their clothing and skin was blanketed in iron dust, blackened from day after day of hacking away at the iron found inside the mountain. They lumbered along, dragging picks, and hammers, too tired for lifting tools much higher.

  Some looked at Mykal and his friends, but the stares were hollow, as if looking through them, without seeing them at all. Others watched the ground in front of them. They veered into different directions. Many, if not most, headed for the tavern. None of them smiled.

  “What are you staring at?” The man did not look strong, but lean, and wiry. When he growled, the whiteness of his teeth surprised Mykal.

  “Nothing.” Mykal shook his head.

  “Well then, get lost.”

  “Watch how you talk to my friend.” Quill stepped forward.

  It was a bad move. Other miners immediately stopped walking. The circle formed fast, even though the miners moved with a slow and sluggish lack of grace.

  “Now, now,” Copper said. He held his hands up, and turned in a circle.

  It was like he could see.

  “Stay out of it, old man,” the miner said. “Guy’s staring at me. Looking at me like he’s better than me? Want to prove it, kid? Want to show me how much better?”

  “Prove it? Prove what? I haven’t said a word,” Mykal said. He knew he sounded yellow. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t, and he wasn’t looking for a fight. “We’re not looking for trouble.”

  “That’s the funny thing about trouble,” the man said. “Sometimes it comes looking for you. And unfortunately, like it or not, it’s found you.”

  Quill wasn’t having it. “Tell you what? You go and bathe. Wash some of that grime off your face and then come back and see us. We’ll give you a fight. But rolling around with dogs is not worth our time.”

  The miner swung. His first resembled a block of coal.

  Quill deflected the punch with his right arm, and delivered a blow to the miner’s gut with his left fist. The miner doubled over, the air knocked from his lungs. The lungs must have been filled with filth, leaving only minimal room for air in the first place. Quill didn’t care. He grabbed the man’s hair, raised his head up, and brought it down onto his rising knee. The crunch of bone almost echoed in the silence around them. Blood sprayed.

  Anthony drew a sword, a quiet hissing threat to any that might interfere.

  Galatia drew her hood over her head, stepping back as if invisible. Mykal wondered if he was the only one who could still see her.

  Blodwyn raised his hands. “We’re not looking for a fight. We’ll be gone from your village soon.”

  “You better be!” A lone voice. It came from back in the crowd, perhaps from a coward who wanted to sound tough though removed from the actual potential harm.

  Two others came forward, clearly intent on helping the injured miner away.

  As if nothing had happened, the other miners moved on, headed here and there.

  The cluster of people thinned, and eventually the road was once again deserted. When it was clear no other threat existed, Mykal began to breathe more normally, and for the first time, noticed that Karyn held his hand.

  “If we’re done here, then please excuse me. I’ll be back,” Copper said.

  “We’re sorry for the trouble,” Blodwyn said, speaking to Copper, but staring at Quill.

  “We have five, six fights a night,” Copper said. “Same thing, different players,” he replied as he walked away.

  No one said a word, until Blodwyn slapped Quill’s arm. “Are you kidding me?”

  ***

  “This is Coil.” Copper stood on the wood walkway that ran the length of the buildings. The rails in front of the walk were where the horses were tethered.

  While it was only late afternoon, it felt like much of the day had been used waiting for the villagers to return from the mines.

  “He will be your guide into the Gorge Caves,” Copper said, vouching for the man.

  The man was big. Bound with muscle. His hair was shaved close to his skull. His face, neck, and arms were covered in ink. Mykal had no idea the significance of the markings, though. they seemed to represent something dark, perhaps from the man’s past.

  “He’s a scary man,” Karyn said.

  Coil heard it, and looked her way. His upper lip quivered as he snarled. The scowl he wore on his face let everyone know he wasn’t thrilled with her assessment. “It was implied I’d receive compensation for my time,” Coil said. His voice was like shod feet grinding loose gravel.

  Blodwyn, once again, produced a small leather purse. He tossed it over to Coil.

  The large man uncinched the bag and poured coins into his palm. He picked them over with a fingertip.

  “I assume that is satisfactory?”

  Mykal wondered how much was in the purse, and how much more Blodwyn had stashed on him. It was peculiar to say the least.

  Blodwyn must have caught him staring. He winked.

  Mykal wasn’t sure why, but the wink made him suspicious instead of putting him at ease.

  “It’ll do.” Coil stuffed the purse into a pocket. “Well then. Let’s get started.”

  “But it’s nearly night,” Galatia said.

  “Sunlight. Moonlight,” Coil said, “it doesn’t matter. Not inside the caves. Come on. I don’t want to be gone forever.”

  Coil started away, down the road, toward the mountains. The others grabbed their gear, and fell in behind him.

  Odd choice of words. They left Mykal shivering. “Ah, the horses,” he said. “I’ll get them.”

  Quill looked back at Blodwyn.

  Blodwyn turned walked over to Mykal.

  “What?” Mykal said, wondering if this was what the two had been whispering about earlier.

  “We can’t take the horses, Mykal.” Blodwyn spoke softly. His words were barely audible.

  Mykal said, “Copper is going to look after them until we return? Is that why you paid him in coins?”

  “It is.”

  “What? What aren’t you telling me?” Mykal sensed more. He saw it in Blodwyn’s eyes.

  “It could be some time before we come back this way,” he said. Blodwyn put a hand on Mykal’s shoulder. “We may never come back here.”

  Mykal shook his head, confused. “Of course we will. We have to retrieve the dagger, and then we come back for the horses. It’s that simple.”

  “I wish it were. And you may be right,” Blodwyn said.

  “But you don’t think so. Do you?”

  “I hope so.”

  Mykal looked at Babe. She drank from the trough of water in front of her. He petted her neck. She stopped drinking long enough to look over at him, and then went back to the water. “I’ll be back, Babe. I’m not leaving you here. I won’t leave you here,” he said.

  He turned around. Everyone stared at him. He didn’t care. He walked over to Copper. “Please take
care of the horses, sir. I will be back for them. I don’t have much to offer, but I will pay you back somehow. You have my word,” he said.

  Copper nodded. His milky eyes roamed all over the place, but stopped and appeared to focus on his. “I’ve been paid well. Your horses will be fine. And they will be here for you whenever you return. You have my word, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Mykal looked back at his horses one more time.

  “We’re ready then,” Coil said. He didn’t hide the fact that he was annoyed. It rolled off his tongue as natural as spit. “If you have torches, bring ‘em. Dark as Hell inside those caves.”

  Mykal picked up his bag, bow and quiver. “I’m all set.”

  They each carried torches. “Even if we enter the caves in the middle of a summer day it is going to resemble the middle of the night in there,” Coil explained.

  Coil spun around and walked, taking long strides forcing the others to match his pace.

  The pace he did set did not slow. He really had no intention of being away from Ironwall longer than absolutely necessary.

  “Are you okay?” Karyn stayed beside Mykal. She’d become like his shadow, he thought.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “I actually feel your pain.” She touched her heart.

  He wasn’t sure if she used a figure of speech, or if she actually felt what he felt. He knew he’d lied to her. He wasn’t okay. Leaving the horses was a mistake. Leaving his grandfather was, too. The world was about to change. That much he understood. He wanted to fight it though, confident if he refused to change then nothing around him would change either.

  It was a foolish and childish thought. Knowing that it was didn’t make any of it easier to accept.

  “I believe him, you know,” she said.

  “Believe who?”

  “Copper. That he’ll take care of the horses.”

  Mykal smiled. “I do, too.”

  “We’ll come back for them.”

  “You’re right. We will,” he said.

  “I remember my father kneeling in front of me. We were just outside of the castle. It was midday, and the sun was so hot. I don’t think there’d been any rain for weeks. Everything green was turning brown. Living things were dying,” she said. “My father took my hand in both of his. They were big hands. Rough. He wasn’t afraid of work. When things needed to be done, he was there with his people doing the work. They truly loved him. I remember that most of all. And he said to me, ‘Karyn, you are going to stay with King Nabal for a while. Until things are better here. No matter what, one day, I will come for you. I will bring you back home. Hold that promise in your heart. Don’t ever let it go. One day soon you will return home with me.’”