The Sword and the Sorcerer

by John Phythyon

  “Follow my lead,” Devon said.

  He guided his horse out and around the queue. He moved it forward and put a casual look on his face, as though nothing was out of the ordinary at all. Calibot grunted and followed suit, although he couldn’t manage the placid expression Devon wore. He did his best not to scowl, but he wasn’t sure it made any difference. Liliana looked curious.

  They’d almost reached the gate when one of the watchmen hailed them. Devon pretended not to hear him. He continued toward the gate. It was only a few feet away.

  “I said, ‘Stop!’” the guard cried, charging out in front of them and brandishing his spear.

  Everyone in the queue turned their attention to the gate. Several soldiers fingered their weapons nervously. Calibot did too. The pulse of energy from the sword crept up his arm. Devon pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a halt, and looked surprised.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, putting an innocent tone in his voice, “were you speaking to me?”

  The guard looked confused for a moment, as if he wondered if Devon could be that stupid. Then he put a hard expression on his face.

  “Yes,” he growled, “I was speaking to you. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Dalasport,” Devon answered. “And I don’t think I’m going there; I am going there.”

  “We have orders to detain anyone departing for Dalasport,” the watchman said.

  He signaled to several of his fellows. Two more soldiers left off the other people they were questioning and came to stand by him. Calibot’s muscles tensed.

  “Not us, you don’t,” Devon said.

  He looked perfectly pleasant. Nothing about him implied a threat. Calibot bit his lip and waited to see what he was doing.

  “The orders pertain to everyone leaving for Dalasport,” the soldier said. “That means everyone, including you.”

  “When did you receive these orders?” Devon said.

  The guard looked confused again. Whatever he thought was going to happen here was not. Devon kept surprising him, and the watchman looked like the sort of man who didn’t do well under those circumstances.

  “About twenty minutes ago, wouldn’t you say?” he replied, conferring with his mates. One of them nodded.

  “Well, I just left the great hall ten minutes ago,” Devon said. “My companions and I are on urgent business from the Council of Elders to Duke Boordin in Dalasport. We were specifically instructed to leave in haste. Do you think we want to leave the city right before dusk? It would be preferable to go in the morning at first light. But the Council was very specific. We are not to delay. Now please stand aside, so we may execute our duty.”

  The guard appeared more confused. Calibot couldn’t help but marvel at Devon’s ploy. He’d always known his love was a skilled courtesan, but he was showing right here just how good he was. Calibot wasn’t sure this was going to work, but Devon had sown doubt in the watchman’s mind.

  “I’ll have to check with my superiors,” the soldier said at last.

  “Look,” Devon said, leaning down towards the guard and putting malice in his voice, “I have told you we are acting on the direct authority of the Council of Elders. You are delaying a critical mission between Eldenberg and Dalasport. If we are unable to do what we are instructed, I will hold you personally responsible to the Council. My understanding is they don’t treat failure well.

  “Now stand aside, so we may pass. I don’t want to have to ask again.”

  The guard stood there considering. He didn’t like being threatened. That much was obvious from the look on his face. But he also had to wonder if Devon was telling the truth. If he was, he was taking a big risk by detaining the three of them.

  Calibot glanced over his shoulder. His heart stopped. A band of mounted soldiers was headed their way. He snapped his head back around. The guard was still thinking about it. Devon glared imperiously at him.

  The pulse in Calibot’s arm grew stronger. If he didn’t act soon, they were doomed.

  Before he really knew what he was doing, he drew his sword. The blade caught fire as soon as it was free of the sheath. Devon and the guards in front of him stared in astonishment at the sight of Calibot with Wyrmblade, blazing, held above.

  He spurred his horse. It shot forward, and Calibot beheaded the guard who’d been speaking to Devon. His horse reared up, and the other two soldiers dropped their spears and fled.

  “Let’s go!” Calibot shouted in a voice that did not seem to be his own.

  He spurred his mount again and raced off through the gate. Devon and Liliana followed.

  “Stop them!” a voice cried.

  Calibot heard a series of twangs as archers on the city wall let fly with an aerial assault. He turned his head to get a bead on the arrows. Without realizing what he was doing, he calculated their trajectory and determined the watch had underestimated the distance.

  “Quickly!” he shouted.

  Then he put his head down and urged more speed from his horse, hoping Devon and Liliana would follow suit. They must have, because, only seconds later, all the arrows hit the ground behind them.

  “We’ve got company!” Devon shouted.

  Calibot turned his head and saw the mounted guards from the city giving pursuit. He couldn’t make out how many there were, but he thought it was at least six. Liliana dropped back.

  “What are you doing?” Calibot yelled at her.

  She fumbled in a saddlebag and ignored him. The patrol was getting awfully close. Calibot swore and pulled on the reins. They were going to have to go back for her.

  But then she turned and flung something at their pursuers. Rays from the dying sun lit up a small cloud of dust.

  “Fiero!” she yelled.

  There was a flash of fire right in front of the Eldenbergian soldiers. The lead horses all reared up and threw their riders. The mounts of the guards in back crashed into the lead ones. In seconds, there was a huge pile of horses and humans on the ground and a lot of moans of pain.

  Liliana spurred her mount and shot away from them. Devon and Calibot followed suit.

  Calibot looked back several times. The soldiers gave up. They were free and clear.

  Chapter 14: Vicia’s Last Chance

  Elmanax wanted to be angry. Maybe if Vicia had acted more quickly to alert the watch, Calibot and his friends would have been caught at the gate.

  He doubted it, though. Calibot had used Wyrmblade to cut their way free. The apprentice had used some parlor trick to disable the pursuit. It was unlikely those conditions would have been any different if Gothemus’s flunkies had been detained at the gate instead of pursued out in the open field.

  That didn’t reduce his frustration, though. How could Gothemus Draco still be vexing him this long after his death? First, he’d somehow made it impossible for Elmanax to get into his tower. Then his body had offered no hints how to undo that magic, despite Elmanax’s best research. Now his son had stolen the remains and was heading back to the tower to do who knew what with them. It was infuriating.

  Lord Vicia stood addressing the impromptu meeting of the Council of Elders she’d called. As he usually did, Elmanax hid at her feet behind her, so he could advise her on what to do and say.

  “Do we know how they cremated the body without attracting attention,” someone asked. Elmanax couldn’t see whom.

  “No,” Vicia admitted, “but it doesn’t matter. They somehow reduced it to ashes, gathered them, and left the city. When we attempted to detain them, Gothemus’s son murdered one of the watchmen. Several others were injured when Gothemus’s apprentice used burn powder to stop their pursuit.”

  There was silence. The Elders were no doubt considering what she said and the implications. Elmanax sighed. He knew humans too well. There was going to be a debate.

  “Do you appreciate the political ramifications of these developments, Lord Vicia?” said an ancient voice Elmanax recognized as Lord Vestran’s.

  “I do, my lord,” she s
aid.

  “This council murdered one of the most powerful magicians in the Known World – the very lynchpin on which the worldwide balance of power rested,” he continued as though Vicia hadn’t responded. “You persuaded us that, with Gothemus Draco dead, you would be able to procure the Eye of the Dragon. You insisted we would be able to use it to suppress Zod the Fearless and force Dalasport into a favorable trade agreement. You promised Eldenberg would rise as the supreme power in a new world order.

  “Now, Gothemus’s blood is on our hands, but the Eye of the Dragon is still securely locked in his tower. The means to get it out was stolen, and the thieves have escaped to Dalasport, where they will find a friend in Duke Boordin. He will no doubt inform Zod, forge a new alliance, and we will have a war on our hands we are ill-equipped to fight.

  “Since poisoning Gothemus Draco, you have failed at everything you promised us you could do! And your folly has put us all in danger.”

  He got several notes of agreement from the other lords. Elmanax rolled his eyes.

  “My lords,” Vicia said, keeping an even tone in her voice. “There is still time to salvage the situation. If we make haste, we can pursue them. We can catch them before they reach their destination.”

  “There is another solution,” a third voice suggested.

  “Lord Hedron,” Vestran said, acknowledging the new speaker.

  “We can strip Lord Vicia of her place on the Council and turn her over to the authorities in Dalasport. We can tell them the entire plot was executed by her and that the Council had no knowledge of it.”

  “Now, let’s not be hasty,” Vicia said.

  “And she will go along with it,” Hedron continued, “because she is bound by her oath to the Council to protect it and Eldenberg under all circumstances.”

  He fell silent. Elmanax could hear some affirmative mutters. Vicia’s latest failure had evidently persuaded some of the Elders that Lord Hedron had been right all along.

  Elmanax had to admit the plan had merit. He didn’t necessarily need Vicia. It would be easy enough to abandon her. But he also wanted Eldenberg’s military assets involved in case there was more trouble with Zod than he could handle, and Vicia was his only voice.

  “Explain the consequences of the Council not getting the Eye,” he said, using the spell he’d cast earlier, so she would be able to hear him but others wouldn’t.

  “My lords,” Vicia said, “sacrificing me to the authorities would indeed free Eldenberg from complicity in the crime. However, have you considered the consequences of not getting the Eye of the Dragon?”

  She paused and let her idea sink in. She was good, Elmanax admitted. Tell her what to say, and she knew how to persuade others. He had chosen well with her.

  “If the Eye is not in the hands of the Council, it will almost surely fall to Zod the Fearless. He can’t use it himself, of course, but he has magicians in his employ. Zod is not known for a calm temperament, nor does he have many interests at heart that are not his own. If he gets hold of the Eye, he will use it to make himself the dominant power in the Known World. One of the reasons the previous arrangement worked so well was because Gothemus kept his brother’s ambitions in check.”

  “The Eye of the Dragon is locked in Gothemus Draco’s tower,” Lord Hedron said. “No one can get at it there, Lord Vicia. Remember? That’s been the problem you can’t seem to solve. Since we can’t get it, why should we be worried about any sorcerers of Zod’s?”

  Elmanax saw Vicia smile derisively in Hedron’s direction. She paused for a moment before answering him.

  “Zod the Fearless is Gothemus Draco’s beloved brother,” she said. “They did everything together. They forged the current balance of power together. They mutually benefitted from it. Does it not occur to you, Lord Hedron, that Gothemus may have given his brother a key to his tower?”

  A murmur of worry went through the Council. Elmanax chuckled.

  “We may not be able to penetrate Gothemus’s defenses yet,” Vicia continued. “But it is highly unlikely they were designed to also thwart his brother, Zod. We did our best to keep Gothemus’s demise a secret, but, now that we’ve been forced to acknowledge it, the clock is ticking. Zod is surely on his way to the tower.”

  “We revealed Gothemus Draco’s death on your advice!” Hedron roared.

  “Which is immaterial,” Vicia countered. “Calibot and his friends have escaped the city. They already knew Gothemus was dead. They can inform Zod even if we had not admitted it.”

  “Press the Calibot point further,” Elmanax said. “He is wielding Wyrmblade.”

  Vicia’s eyes opened wide in alarm at that revelation. She did her best to recompose herself.

  “And there is another possibility too,” she said. “Their actions at the gate reveal that Gothemus’s son, Calibot, is wielding Wyrmblade.” A gasp went through the room. “Eyewitness accounts of what happened make it clear it can be no other sword.

  “I don’t need to tell you the power of that legendary weapon. It is already in the wrong hands – those of a poet instead of a wise warrior or a wizard. Suppose he was to acquire the Eye of the Dragon as well? With those two artifacts, he would certainly be invincible, and he would be unpredictable – a man with no leadership training, a dreamer, with a reason to hate Eldenberg.

  “With Zod the Fearless, we can well imagine what would happen with the Eye of the Dragon. With Calibot Draco, we can only guess. Either will be able to wreak destruction on a scale not previously envisioned.”

  Elmanax smiled. He very much doubted Calibot wanted anything to do with the sword or the magical device it was helping him find. He had no desire to be any part of this and probably just wanted to bury his father and be done with it. But the Council didn’t know that, and Vicia had given them reason to fear what he would do.

  “What do you propose, Lord Vicia?” a woman’s voice said.

  “We must pursue them, my lords,” she replied. “We must hunt them down and take back what they have stolen.”

  “You’ll never get to Dalasport ahead of them,” Lord Hedron said.

  “They’re not going to Dalasport,” Vicia said.

  “What?” Lord Vestran said. “Why not?”

  “Yes, Lord Vicia,” the woman said. “Why wouldn’t they return home? They came from Dalasport. They rode on the duke’s own horses.”

  “Because what they want is not there, Lord Festria,” Vicia replied. “They want the Eye of the Dragon, and that’s in Gothemus Draco’s tower.”

  Elmanax felt the air go out of the room. Vicia had done her job well. He had them where he wanted them. Now it was time to press.

  “Do not forget to mention the army,” he reminded her.

  “You’ve led us to ruin,” Hedron said.

  “Not yet, I haven’t,” Vicia retorted. “There is still time. If I leave now with a small detachment of huntsmen, we can probably catch them before they reach the tower. If not, certainly by the time they reach it.”

  “What if they already have the Eye?” Vestran said.

  “By the time we catch them, you mean?” Vicia said. “Then I will kill them. Calibot is no sorcerer. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, even if he is acting on some posthumous instructions from his father. Gothemus’s apprentice is barely competent. She understands only the slightest hints of magic and is not capable of manipulating the Eye. Calibot’s lover is a soldier. None of them has the knowledge necessary to do combat with a fully trained magician such as myself. I will take the Eye of the Dragon from them if they have it or claim it before them if they do not.”

  “You’ve forgotten one detail,” Hedron spat.

  “Which is?”

  “Zod. Suppose he’s already at the tower. Suppose he is already in possession of the Eye.”

  “I think that is highly unlikely,” Vicia said.

  “Why?” Vestran said.

  “Because, as you know, I’ve been unable to penetrate Gothemus’s magic to enter the tower myself. But I have
been monitoring it. I’ve studied Gothemus Draco and the Eye of the Dragon for a long time. I would know if there had been some change in the Eye. Zod might have a key to the tower, but I do not believe he has used it yet.

  “Furthermore, it would be highly unlikely for him to have learned of his brother’s death before now. To use his key, he will have to come across the Wild Lands. That will take time, especially now that Gothemus isn’t controlling them anymore.

  “However, we still need to be prepared to deal with him. I will take three huntsmen tonight to catch Calibot and his companions. Tomorrow morning, the Council should send a legion of troops to Gothemus’s tower. One way or another, Zod will be coming. We’d be best served to confront him at Gothemus’s tower rather than allowing him to lay siege to the city.”

  Elmanax was so proud of Lord Vicia, he could have laughed. She’d done everything he asked of her. She had taken his theories, made them her own, and sold them to the Council. Everything would proceed as he desired.

  “I call the question,” Lord Festria said. “Do we accept Lord Vicia’s plan?”

  A chorus of ayes sprang up from around the table. Predictably, Hedron dissented.

  “It is decided,” Lord Vestran said. “You shall have your huntsmen and your soldiers, Lord Vicia.”

  “Thank you, my lords,” she said.

  “But I warn you,” Vestran continued, “this is your last chance. If you fail, don’t bother coming back. We will condemn you and decide whose justice you’ll face – Calibot’s, Dalasport’s, or ours.”

  “I understand, Lord Vestran,” Vicia said. “Thank you.”

  “This is madness,” Hedron commented. “You’re going to lead us all to our doom.”

  Elmanax was pretty sure he was right. Eldenberg and its Council of Elders weren’t coming out of this with the Eye of the Dragon. He was. Eldenberg was likely to get little more than a war. He suspected, as the truth of things came to light, that Dalasport would form an alliance with Zod, and together they would crush Eldenberg. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe the Council’s magic would be enough to hold them at bay. If that was the case, the human world was in for an apocalypse.