by Dan Adams
‘Yes, but the black smoke has everyone rattled.’
‘Black smoke? Which outpost?’
Gerard’s face fell, as if sure he wasn’t supposed to mention that.
‘Black Claw Gate,’ he said sheepishly. ‘The baron assembled everyone and marched off to deal with it.’
‘Why were we not notified?’
‘Messengers have been dispatched to Sarkridge indicating that the beacon has been fired. The level of the attack is unknown and when the baron gets there, details will be reported, firstly to here and then the rest of the Kingdom will be notified.’
Ara hit him over the back of the head with her palm.
‘You should have said so earlier. Our assistance will be needed at the gate. There is no telling what could be happening. We must go faster,’ Ara yelled, slapping Gerard’s horse on the rump before kicking hers to chase.
Stopping at the station house, Gerard dismounted and told the stationed members of the watch to water and feed all the horses. Ara reluctantly gave her thanks, as he mentioned it before she had the chance to ask. Giving the reins over, the two magi followed Gerard as he jogged along the pathways through the Buckthorne gardens.
Winding their way through the baron’s premises, Gerard informed them that the baroness was in attendance if they wished to thank her for her hospitality, although Ara declined. Gerard stepped up the pace as Ara snapped at his heels as they moved through the corridors. Daria followed at a brisk pace but did not make the effort to fully keep up and was soon left behind a few turns back.
Gerard stopped at a door in the dark corner of a corridor. He breathed deeply before putting his hand on the door to indicate this was it.
‘Can you open it?’ Ara asked, looking back over her shoulder for any sign of her older companion.
‘Only if I want my arms to explode from their sockets. So no, I’m kind of attached to them. The baron had it magically sealed. He has an amulet to get in, but me, no, I fear I would die a grizzly death.’
Ara sighed at the earnest response and placed her hand on the handle, letting magic stream from her fingertips and course through the door, dismantling the spell. She turned the handle and it opened. No explosion. A sigh of relief came from her lips and Gerard was visibly unsettled having been expecting the worst.
Stepping inside, Ara’s first thought was the room wasn’t very big, much smaller than she anticipated. This room was not worthy of being labelled a library — a den perhaps, or a study, but certainly not a library. Shelves ran around the outside of the room, half filled at best. At least it wouldn’t take too long. Feeling it best to start while she waited for Daria to catch up, Ara moved around to the left.
Gerard remained stationed outside by the door at attention, his eyes shifting between Ara perusing the books and keeping a look out for the older mage to come around the corner. Magi were a strange bunch and the sooner they found what they were looking for the sooner they would leave and life would return to normal. He bowed slightly as Daria rounded the corner and he held out his arm indicating that the library was through the door.
The first books Ara came across were the histories and battle journals of all the barons of Buckthorne. Her eyes rolled at the possibility of ever having to read through the thick volumes.
‘Today I sat in a chair …’ she muttered to herself.
‘Was it exciting? Can I sit in a chair or is it only for those privileged few?’ teased Daria who had that moment entered.
‘Yes, as riveting as “Today I sat in a saddle” and “Today I decided to stand". Histories of the Barony. A fascinating read.’
‘Suppose it depends. I wonder if my affair with the baron’s brother was chronicled.’
‘Daria?’
‘It did take place here but it wasn’t really anything to do with the baron.’
‘Would it be indexed under sex, Daria, or magi?’
‘I doubt that they are indexed at all. Should we continue this search for your book?’
Ara and Daria scanned the baron’s personal library. It was tiny compared to the one in the Sarkridge, where multiple copies of books lined the shelves. Only one occupant could read in here at a time and hope not to be disturbed by the comings and goings of other readers. Perhaps the baron did not allow it. The gods would only know what the baron would have ever done if two readers ever came at the same time and had to share the one chair.
Ara moved from a section of half empty shelves to the small table beside the comfy chair. At the top of the pile was the red leather bound spellbook she was after. Her fingers ran over the embossed cover and down the spine.
‘Found it.’
It was valuable. Not just a little but a lot. Why it was in this barony on the outskirts of the Kingdom was bloody ludicrous. It was the only spellbook that contained the spell Soul Entrapment. There was little written about space distortion magic and she hoped to further the research in her time. How was it possible when what few materials there were about the subject were carelessly left all over the Murukan Kingdom?
‘Are you happy now?’ Daria asked.
‘Yes, quite content actually. I suppose we should go and join in this war?’
‘Unless you had other plans?’
‘Well I did want to catch up on my reading …’
Daria and Ara followed Gerard back through the keep, passing the guards that looked at them suspiciously. His scabbard tapped against his thigh as he set a cracking pace. Ara kept up, constantly thinking that she needed to work on her fitness as her thighs burned and her breathing became shallow. Daria had resigned to her fate and cast Levitate, enabling her to glide along over the ground and maintain the youngsters speed.
‘How long ago did they march, Gerard?’
‘About four days ago. The tournament was interrupted when the signal was spotted and every company marched to the mountains. They should arrive at Black Claw tomorrow afternoon.’
‘We will need to ride through the night to be there when the battle begins.’
‘If there is a battle, Ara.’
Ara shot her a look as she saddled up and raced full pelt after her guide.
Daria was uncomfortable in the saddle. Although she tried her best to hide it, Ara knew her mentor well enough to know that she was grumpier being out on the road than ever as she got older. They couldn’t rest yet, there was still too much ground to cover to catch up.
The horses they borrowed from Buckthorne galloped across the open fields to the mountains. They blurred across the environment as each mage occasionally pumped magical stamina and speed into the horses to keep them going. This was easier on their stores of power than on the poor horses that would collapse at the end of the ride.
Ara felt compelled to aid in the defence even though she had been born in the south of the country near Nethvan and never taken an interest in the problems with the northern border. Kyzantium and Murukia had been in so many disputes that the battles had often spread out of the mountain passes and into either the Empire or the Kingdom. The outposts had been built to ensure that it was no longer an easy proposition to invade either neighbour, and Buckthorne and Gravid’s Drift had been defending them ever since.
As the darkness encroached, Ara cast and a ball of fire erupted to life above them. It illuminated the area, helping the struggling horses to see in the dark. They were tiring from the constant pace, despite being fresh. Ara leant forward and whispered, ‘Not much further.’
The night was long and Daria managed to fall asleep in the saddle. Ara shook her head in disbelief and took control of Daria’s mount and led her along at a steady pace. They would never make it at this rate. Looking over at her sleeping companion Ara contemplated taking drastic action. She had been developing a teleportation spell and had successfully been jumping from one side of the lab to the other — as long as she could see where she was going. Daria had mentioned that war was a good time to test one’s skills, and Ara hoped that her friend wouldn’t awaken mid-jump or it could be di
sastrous — well, she hadn’t tried it with anyone else, now there were two of them … and horses.
Taking a deep breath Ara concentrated as her horse continued to gallop across the countryside. Aware of how much energy she needed to get herself across the gap, she quadrupled it now to allow for her guests. The incantation came softly from her lips as the shimmer of darkness opened up before the racing mounts that plunged in head first.
Bursting forth from the shimmer Ara let out the breath she had been holding. The horses continued as if nothing was amiss. Turning to the sleeping Daria, Ara realised that her old mentor was none the wiser about her new trick and smiled to herself. Taking a moment to get her bearings, Ara summoned more energy and prepared to jump again, further afield this time.
The first signs of dawn broke across the horizon as the two magi burst out of another of Ara’s shimmers. The black sky faded to grey as Ara pulled up and reined in the horses.
Ara reached over and tapped Daria on the shoulder.
‘Wake up. We need to eat and have a break. Dawn is breaking.’
Daria rubbed the sleep from her eyes. ‘How long have I been out?’
‘At least half the night.’
‘And you kept me going?’
‘No time to stop … til now.’ Ara shrugged, a smile forming in the corners of her mouth
Ara dismounted, pulled the saddlebags from her mount and poured the contents of one into two piles. The oats covered the ground and the horses made their way across and put their heads down to eat. Ara ran her hand through the mane of her mare and went and sat down next to Daria under a nearby tree. She handed the other mage some salted meat and some fresh bread.
‘The baron’s troops will have to stop and prepare before they attempt to retake Black Claw. That should give us at least an hour’s rest before we need to get going to meet them. Those are their standards in the distance.’
Daria looked toward the mountains, seeing tiny wavering specks flutter in the grey morning light.
‘The horses surely couldn’t have got us this far on their own, even with us both pumping them full of energy?’ Daria half asked, half stated, knowing something else had happened that she couldn’t explain.
‘They managed, that’s good enough for now. They deserve a break and we need to eat. I’m starving and you should be too.’
Ara thought it was over at that, Daria had put some bread in her mouth and looked content. But it was when she swallowed that her old mentor surprised her.
‘When this little adventure is over, you are going to have to show me how you did it,’ Daria said with a smile before returning her attention to breakfast.
Pollux sat beside Octans around the small fire as his friend shovelled food into his mouth. Pollux on the other hand preferred to chew before swallowing and couldn’t continue to watch without gagging, so he looked toward the Fatelli Pass. The scouts had already been dispatched and had gone running up the trail. It wouldn’t be long until they knew exactly what was going on.
There were a couple of others sitting around the fire, they nodded and grunted a greeting in the early morning light, but on the fifth morning who really had the energy to be pleasant before coffee? The coffee that came round was thick and black, and the aroma hit Pollux’s nostrils before he even held out his mug. The liquid slopped into his cup, then Octans’, and then all the other grumpy soldiers’. The man with the giant jug of steaming coffee moved on to the next group of soldiers, he had a lot of tired men to get to while it was still hot.
Pollux sipped at it, the coffee stinging his lips, and looked up over the rim at Octans who was downing it by the mouthful despite the heat. Pollux almost choked on his tiny sip at the sight. Octans offered a confused look before shovelling another mouthful of food in, oblivious that he had done anything unusual.
‘Have you wondered what would have happened if we finished the tournament?’
‘You mean after I whooped you and went off to Sarkridge?’
‘Well after one of us won. I wasn’t expecting to go to war, I was planning a trip to the capital, learn to be a sword master and come back and look for a comfortable officer position at Buckthorne and then boss you around.’
‘I always wanted action Pollux, the tournament was just a way to show off. I got to test myself against Buckthorne’s best and if I won I got training to become even better.’
‘We are soldiers, action was always on the cards.’
‘So was war. Why are you so surprised at where we are now and what we are about to do?’
‘I don’t know, I just didn’t expect it to happen now I guess. I suppose everyone wants as much training as possible before they go into something like this, it increases the odds on walking away from it all.’
‘No training can prevent a lucky shot — a sword in the back, an arrow through the eye. We are all going to meet our maker one of these days, better off dying doing something respectable.’
‘Killing isn’t respectable.’
‘But being a soldier is. We do what we need to Pollux.’
‘And I will, but I put a high value on life.’
‘The life of the enemy …?’
‘The life of the men we fight with. The longer this war lasts the more men are going to die. Men that we have trained with for the last couple of years won’t be going home. That’s the life I value.’
‘They all know what they got into when they signed on. We swing the sword, or die trying.’
‘That’s glory for you Octans.’
‘Hey, don’t knock it. You want it as much as me. Maybe you weren’t thinking that it would come this way, but this is what life has thrown us. It’s a hell of a lot more dangerous than standing in the middle of the arena, but we will make our mark one way or another.’
Octans pulled out his blade and began sharpening it against a stone he removed from his pack. Pollux sat there in silence sipping at his coffee, replaying his friend’s words over in his head. Octans was right, glory came to those who took it. Time he dealt with the fact he was never going to Sarkridge and got himself ready for what lay ahead.
Pollux put the last bite of food into his mouth and grabbed the stone off Octans. He ran it down his blade on both sides, sharpening his weapon. He was focused on his task when Octans knocked him in the arm and pointed at two approaching riders.
‘Who on earth …’ Octans managed to get out between bits of food.
‘Got to be magi the way they are dressed.’
The two figures rode into the camp, dismounted, and their questions carried on the wind to Pollux. The two women were visibly different. One was young, short fiery auburn hair; the other was old with long grey tied back in a bun. There were similarities: the power that seemed to radiate from them and the authority and confidence with which they carried themselves.
‘Where is the baron?’ the younger of the two asked.
One of the sentries posted further down the slope pointed up toward Pollux’s direction and the two took off without pause, walking up the incline and straight to Pollux and Octans.
Octans smiled and whispered beneath his breath, ‘She’s not bad.’
‘I didn’t know you liked the older ones?’
Octans shoved him in the arm. ‘You know I meant the other one,’ he said.
Pollux tried to hold it together but couldn’t, toppling over on his side and erupting into laughter. Feeling Octans’ punches on his back and sides, he tried to straighten but couldn’t through the tears and uncontrollable laughter. Trying to punch back, his swings went wildly away from Octans which didn’t help.
The two magi approached them as Pollux barely managed to pull himself back onto his arse and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. The women didn’t look particularly pleased to stop and ask the most delinquent soldiers in the baron’s army for directions.
‘We are looking for the baron,’ asked the older mage.
‘Right,’ replied Octans.
‘Have you seen him? she pressed.
‘Nope,’ Octans answered.
Pollux could barely keep himself under control. The two magi’s faces did not look happy. Actually they were looking more and more pissed after each response.
‘Where would he be?’ the redhead snapped.
‘He’s further on toward the pass,’ replied Octans.
Pollux pointed over his shoulder with his thumb as he did his best to suppress his laughter.
‘Something funny soldier?’ asked the girl.
Pollux met her eyes and blinked away tears. ‘Nothing that should stop you from finding the baron, magi.’
He received a look of disdain for his efforts as the magi walked past. Both Pollux and Octans looked over their shoulders at them. The younger looked back, catching them both. Octans turned his head instantly, but Pollux caught her gaze and swore he saw fire in her eyes.
The other soldiers around their little fire all wore smiles, some turned their heads to avoid laughing. The mood was jovial. Octans slapped Pollux on the back and laughed too, coughing to get it out.
Looking up to see a messenger staring down at them, Pollux and Octans slowly composed themselves while the other soldiers shook their heads and the messenger folded his arms across his chest and waited.
‘The Fists are retaking Black Claw. Assemble at the entrance of the Fatelli Pass in half an hour.’
Octans watched the messenger run off and find another group of soldiers to tell. He didn’t envy him. He looked over at Pollux who had already gotten up and was stretching his shoulders. As sudden as that, his friend had turned off the laughter and seriousness had consumed him. Octans considered that a quick stretch wouldn’t hurt before putting his armour on. Octans rolled his shoulders back and forth, swung his arm around to rotate the socket. He lunged forward to stretch his hamstrings. He pulled his neck side to side to work out the kinks. He felt looser, and thought that should just about do it.
He sat back down next to his pile of armour that he'd thrown off when they'd gotten to the pass last night. Octans looked over it, traced his fingers over the pieces of metal that would protect him in the upcoming battle. He strapped on each grieve, followed by his chest plate, then pauldrons. He strapped on his belt and scabbard, buckled on his vambraces and gauntlets and picked up his shield. Lastly he picked up his pack and looked at Pollux who was doing the same.