Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  CraAAAAacK!

  A solid club of energy hammered down into the pass. The rock directly under the hammer of Julia’s anger turned instantly to hot particles of dust and stone that fled the scene at such a speed it shred tents and flesh in its path. The clap of thunder accompanying the strike sounded within the pass itself as super heated air expanded explosively. Rocks and scree cascaded down from the walls of the pass as the mountains trembled and vibrated in sympathy with Athione as she shook on her foundations. Stones toppled from weakened walls and cries of pain arose from within the fortress as guardsmen were struck and injured. Horses whinnied in panic and kicked stall doors in an effort to flee. Pieces of rock rained down long after the strike was over, but gradually the dust drifted away on the breeze to reveal the devastation below.

  Silence reigned.

  * * *

  Navarien took stock. He had perhaps two thousand able-bodied legionaries left, with another eight hundred or so wounded and unable to fight. The two battalions used to ferry in supplies were untouched, but they were the only ones. He had lost over half his legion. More than five thousand men dead. None of the sorcerers had survived except for Lucius. Belgard had been the last to fall. He was taken unawares at the close of the attack and good riddance. If the bitch hadn’t killed him, Navarien swore to himself that he would have. He didn’t care how long it would have taken or what he would have needed to do, he would have found a way.

  Navarien was defeated and he knew it. If the Devan’s came down now he would have to flee or lose what was left of the Fifth. Without magic, he could not attack, but far more important to his mind was his inability to hold off the bitch sorceress. That a girl had defeated him left a sour taste in his mouth. That one of his own had facilitated his defeat enraged him. Belgard and Belgard alone was responsible for his defeat. If he had attacked as Lucius had wanted him to in the beginning, the chances were good that he would be on his way to Devarr right now.

  Navarien sighed. There was no point debating what might have been.

  He had to decide whether to obey Lucius’ last order. His friend—yes he called Lucius friend and wished he might have sooner. His friend had a head wound that seemed serious. He had awoken briefly to order the legion home to Athinia. Lucius said he didn’t want to go back—that he would rather die here in the pass a free man than be executed as a slave in chains. Navarien didn’t know why he was debating with himself really. He was defeated and nothing he could do would change it. Returning home was the only thing he could do, and he owed Lucius a debt. For his negligence in forcing Lucius to attack too soon, he would do this thing and take the consequences when he returned home.

  His ruinous decision made, Navarien set himself to carry it out. “You two,” he called to a couple of his men sitting together on a rock. They looked at him in a surly manner and didn’t bother to rise. “Round everyone up. We’re going home.”

  He wouldn’t discipline them here today, but he knew their faces. The God help them when they got home. The God help him too.

  It was not long before what was left of Navarien’s command started to resemble a fighting force again. He ordered two men to carry Lucius to the road and up to the crevasse. At the very edge Navarien knelt and covered the man who might have been a friend in his black robe.

  “I am sorry my friend… truly sorry,” Navarien said knowing the words went unheard.

  Navarien turned and left his friend to die. It was the best he could do. If the Devan’s had a shred of honour they might call a healer. A slim chance at life was better than no chance. Lucius would certainly die if he left him down in the pass.

  Upon reaching the remains of his camp, Navarien gave the order, and the long march home began.

  * * *

  Julia held her magic ready to intervene at a moment’s notice as two guardsmen crossed the makeshift rope bridge to examine the present left behind by the Hasians. Brian was one of the guardsmen, but she didn’t know the other man’s name.

  “He’s a sorcerer, m’lord!” Brian yelled back.

  “Give him the grace lads!”

  “No wait!” Julia yelled desperately.

  Brian aborted his thrust. “What are your orders, lord?”

  “Bide a moment, Brian,” Keverin turned to Julia. “What would you, Lady?”

  Julia hurriedly tried to think of a reason not to kill the sorcerer. She didn’t want any more killing. “We need information. He might provide it. Bring him across and I will heal him.”

  “He’s a sorcerer,” Keverin said doubtfully. “He could kill us all.”

  Julia waved that away with an abrupt and annoyed gesture of her hand. “I’ll keep a close eye on him. If he so much as twitches, I’ll blast him for you.” She could see him deciding against her as she watched. “Please Kev, let him live. Please?”

  Keverin didn’t answer for a long moment. He looked back at the prone figure debating the merits of a live sorcerer as opposed to a dead one. Finally he nodded.

  “This goes against my better judgement, Lady, but if it’s that important to you I’ll have him brought over. He must be under your watch the entire time. Is that understood?”

  “Absolutely,” she said in relief.

  Keverin turned back to the Gap. Nothing had changed. Brian still held his dagger ready for the final thrust. “Bring him over, Brian!”

  Brian and his friend brought their burden over the swaying rope bridge. Julia didn’t like the look of it at all. If she ever needed to go down to the pass she would have to build a better bridge. That thing was flaming scary!

  “Put him down here, Brian. Have your dagger ready,” Keverin said and Brian produced it. “You kill him the instant he looks threatening—understood?”

  “Yes m’lord.” Brian did as he was bid and more. He pressed his wickedly sharp blade against the sorcerer’s throat. It would take the tiniest of motions to slit the man’s throat.

  “Be careful not to cut him or I’ll have to heal that as well,” Julia said but if Brian relaxed his pressure she couldn’t see it.

  The sorcerer seemed to be in his thirties, but looks could be deceiving where mages were concerned. He was dark and wore a light beard that followed the line of his chin to join a goatee type moustache. The effect was quite appealing. Julia had to shake herself to remember that this man was evil. He didn’t look evil, but he had killed her friends and that was enough to make him so. Kneeling opposite Brian, Julia quickly examined the head wound. To normal vision it looked bloody but not life threatening, but with her mage-sight she could see he was near death. As quickly as she could she strengthened him before attacking the source of the purplish black light she found in his aura.

  The word attacking was appropriate for what she was doing. She had noticed before that the colours seemed to have a life of their own. They were always trying to evade her healing and would sometimes escape the net she wove around them. This time she managed to encircle it without too much trouble, and then tightened the noose to destroy it.

  Julia finished her work and came back to the real world still holding her magic ready to use. She watched the sorcerer intently. She was so close to blasting him that crackles of lightning appeared at her fingertips. It would take less than an instant to obliterate him, and she would the moment he tried to use his magic against her.

  The sorcerer opened his eyes and saw her watching him. His eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. His hand came up to the blade at his neck. Instantly Julia raised her own hand, and allowed the lightning to jump from finger to finger before reining it back in. The sorcerer’s hand froze and his eyes popped wide in alarm when he saw how close to death he had just come.

  “I mean you no harm, Lady sorcerer… sorceress?”

  “Julia. My name I mean.”

  “And I am Lucius, formerly Lord Sorcerer of Fifth Legion of the Protectorate. I assume that I have you to thank for healing me.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “Not to me, I assure you,” L
ucius said with a kind smile. “I am in your debt.”

  Before Julia could say anything, Keverin interrupted her. “If you mean that lord sorcerer, I would accept your oath to do no harm while here with us. I’ll not deceive you. Brian will kill you if you do not give it.”

  “I see. You must be Lord Keverin then… you seem taller in the flesh. I give you my oath most willingly of course. I cannot go back in any case. Lord Mortain has issued orders that I be taken to him in chains to be executed.”

  “Oh? And why would he do that?”

  “Well it’s complicated you see, but basically it’s because I was lead mage in charge of the invasion. It… I failed. The penalty for failure is death.”

  “We should kill him now—”

  “Bastard! He’s the one—”

  “He killed my brother!”

  “Silence!” Keverin ordered and his men came to silent attention. “Back to your posts,” he said more kindly.

  Most went quietly. One or two left grumbling. To Julia’s relief and embarrassment, she heard the others shushing them by invoking her name. Julia hoped their confidence wasn’t misplaced. If Lucius turned hostile, she could literally die from that kind of embarrassment.

  “Let him up, Brian, but stay close,” Keverin ordered. “I want you and Udall to accompany him wherever he goes. The library is out of bounds and the armoury of course—as are the stables.” Keverin turned his attention back to Lucius. “I’m sure you understand why I can’t take the chance of this being a trick. I’ll not lower our defences for you or anyone. Julia will keep you under constant watch. You will not use your magic for anything. Brian will show you to guest quarters, but I’m sure you realise that Guest Right does not apply to you.”

  “Of course, my lord,” Lucius said with an inclination of his head. “I’ll try to be good. Come along, Brian. Let us find me a nice comfy bed.”

  Julia smiled at that. “Thanks for not killing him. If he really is under a death sentence he might be useful.”

  “Perhaps,” Keverin said doubtfully. “But more helpful than dangerous? That I don’t know about.” He watched the retreating figure with a frown upon his face. “You should be with him, Julia.”

  Embarrassed to realise that she had forgotten her promise all ready, Julia took her leave. She threw dignity to the wind and dashed after the three men with Moriz and Halbert lumbering and cursing in pursuit. She dodged in and out of the guardsmen and collected Mathius on her way to joining Lucius and the others.

  Julia took turns with Mathius as Lucius’ gaoler. At no time did he make any fuss, and after a few tense days she began to relax. Lucius was genuinely pleased to be at Athione. She was sure he wouldn’t do anything that might jeopardise his life. On his second day within the fortress, Lucius discarded his black robe and asked for clothes and toiletries. Julia was happy to supply all that he needed, but when he asked her for a means to trim his beard, Mathius objected. Lucius was to be given nothing that might be used as a weapon, which was stupid Julia argued. Should Lucius wish to kill her or anyone, he had only to use his magic, but Mathius was immovable on the subject.

  No weapons—period.

  They compromised. Julia used a razor and a pair of scissors to tidy him up, while Mathius stood watching and holding his magic in readiness. Lucius took it all with good grace—he was resigned to at least. While she worked, she took the time to ask about his family. Lucius went very still and Julia thought she had cut him, but that wasn’t it.

  “My family disappeared when I was child. They’re dead.”

  “I’m sorry. Was your father a sorcerer too?”

  “I would rather not speak of it.”

  “All right,” Julia said and massaged her aching shoulder before continuing the clipping.

  “Are you all right?” Mathius said. “It still hurts?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You are injured?” Lucius said.

  “An old wound. It aches sometimes.”

  “Why not use your magic?”

  “I can’t heal myself, Lucius. You don’t know a way to do that do you?”

  “No, but I can relieve pain with my magic. I would be happy to try it on you if you will permit?” Lucius said and looked up in alarm as Mathius suddenly raised his hand to cast fire. “No, perhaps not.”

  “You can relieve pain you said,” Julia said ignoring the brightness around Mathius. He wouldn’t let his magic go now, that was certain. “Why can’t you heal then? A sorcerer should be able to see the auras,” she said as she trimmed the wiry whiskers.

  “I never could heal very well, not like the others could. It’s not one of my talents. I don’t know what you mean by aura, Lady. I make do with a needle and thread. Sometimes I use herbs to make the man sleep first—especially if I have to amputate.”

  Julia shuddered at the thought of having to cut someone’s limb off. Thank God she had been spared that horror. All she had to do was heal what remained after a soldier had already lost it. She couldn’t show Lucius her little book because it was back on the shelves in the library and he wasn’t allowed in there of course, but there was no harm in explaining how she did it.

  “I use my mage-sight to see an aura. It’s as if everyone is made of light and not flesh. If I were to look at you now, your aura would be mostly white—as it should be. A wound changes the colour and tells me something about its seriousness. There’s more to it than that, but that’s basically how it works.”

  Lucius listened with interest as she explained about auras and what she knew of the realm of healing. Even the guardsmen seemed interested. Mathius was on the edge of his seat as she explained how she had healed him and the others.

  “What do the colours mean?” Lucius asked.

  “I’m not completely sure. Pale yellow is tiredness and deep yellow is exhaustion. Red is bad and you have to destroy it with white magic. Mathius had a piece of wood through his stomach—it made the wound look like a green and purple mass attached to red streams. Maybe red is the poison caused by infection, but I’m not sure. One thing you must never do is touch the blue light at the centre of a mage. I tried that once…” Julia broke off blinking furiously to prevent tears. She hadn’t spoken of Renard’s death since that day.

  “That wasn’t your fault, Julia! He was dying in any case. You did your best!” Mathius remonstrated.

  Her best? Her best seemed to kill a lot of people. What would her worst be like? She hoped she never found out.

  The time went slowly for Julia. She spent most of her days exploring the town or working out in the gym that Master-crafter Deneen had worked so hard to finish for her. She was lonely for Jill. Even living within the fortress amid so many people she was lonely. Wasn’t that silly?

  Of course it was!

  Jessica and Mathius often spent time with her. Mathius was determined that she learn everything there was to know about magic and his world. It was as if he saw himself as her mentor. Just as Darius had been mentor to him. He was a dear friend. She loved him for his kindness—Jessica too, but they couldn’t replace what she had lost. They couldn’t replace an entire world—no one could.

  When the pass remained empty of threat, Keverin decided to relax the restrictions he had placed upon Julia and the rest of the fortress. The gate no longer remained locked from dawn to dusk. Julia awoke one morning to find her friends no longer standing guard at her door. She missed Moriz and Halbert terribly. It was just like Keverin to relent at the worst possible time. She should be happy that she could come and go without restriction. She could even leave the fortress without permission as long as she was escorted. All she had to do was borrow one of the guardsmen and tell another to inform Marcus that she was going out. That was infinitely better than what she’d had to deal with before, but she felt... sad all the time. It was stupid and childish, but that was how she felt.

  She had no idea why or how to make it stop.

  “Is anything wrong?” Lucius said as they made their way to Keverin’s stu
dy. “You are very quiet.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m just not very good company right now.”

  Lucius had become a friend. She had tried hating him, but it would be like hating herself. If she called him murderer, she had to call herself much worse. Lucius had led the legion that killed half the guard, but she had killed an entire legion of men by herself.

  “Is it something I can help you with?”

  “I don’t think so... I don’t know. I miss my home, Lucius.”

  “Ah yes. It’s easy to forget that you were not born of this world. You have family back home?”

  “It’s not that,” she said as they approached Keverin’s guarded door and stopped. “My parents died not long before I was brought here. I have no other family.”

  “Friends?”

  “One. Her name’s Jill.”

  “And you miss her.”

  Julia nodded. “Very much. You’re a sorcerer—”

  “I was.”

  “Okay, you were a sorcerer. Do you know how to make a gate like the one Darius made?”

  Lucius shook his head. “The Great Spells were lost during the Time of Chaos.” At Julia’s uncomprehending look he explained. “Before Mortain arose to lead our people, Castle Black was ruled by a king—except Stelinor wasn’t really a king. He didn’t rule so much as guide. He spoke for the council of mages. This was long ago. Before even Hasa was conquered.

  “It’s written that the first Mortain was a traitor to his kind. His son—Stelinor Al’Mortain—cast a Great Spell and led our people to this world. That time is called the Founding of the Black Isle now. It’s written that for years we lived on the edge of extinction. Many Great Spells were cast to change the land and the weather until Black Isle became the paradise it is now.”

  “But what has this to do with a way home for me?”

  Lucius grimaced. “Among many other things brought to this world was the knowledge of magic. Stelinor was a very great mage. It’s said that many of his spells are handed down in direct line to Mortain, may he live—” Lucius broke off in sudden confusion. “To Mortain. I don’t believe that part is true, but I do believe one other thing that is written in the Histories.”