Battlemage

by Stephen Aryan

  The smile that slowly crept across Vargus’s face unnerved the Lord of Light and his bravado faltered. “You’re right,” said Vargus, completely confusing the Lord of Light. “I don’t have any proof, but this is not a court of justice. There is no judge or jury, only the execution of will.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Really?” said Vargus, sitting back on his pew, completely at ease. “What do you think happens to one of our kind when they’ve been living, in the same body, for thousands of years? Do you have any idea what that does to the mind?”

  “I don’t understand,” said the boy.

  “Of course you don’t. You’re a child. You haven’t even seen a millennia yet. But the Maker, he’s been here almost since the beginning. All that time he’s been amassing more power than all of us put together, and yet he became trapped in a body that was broken. His mind was rotting. Sometimes he appeared sane, but the moments of lucidity faded every year.”

  All of the candles in the church flickered in unison. An expression of horrific realisation dawned on the boy’s face.

  “It was you,” whispered the Lord of Light.

  “He begged me,” said Vargus, his voice hoarse. “He couldn’t bear it any more. He was suffering and even put the weapon in my hand.”

  All colour drained from the Lord of Light’s face until he was as pale as his robe. “But, with so much power, he must have come back.”

  “He was reborn almost immediately, born to a barren woman, but the time between was too short. His mind was still broken. He cried out to me from across the world and I answered his call. I strangled him in his crib. Over and over we’ve done this. Eventually he will be reborn whole, because he is eternal, but you are not.”

  “Mercy,” he pleaded, but Vargus chose to interpret the word differently.

  “It was a mercy when I killed him the first time. The body died and I cast his essence onto the wind where Summer carried him to every land.”

  “Have mercy, Weaver.”

  Vargus sat forward again and this time the Lord of Light flinched. “If you ever interfere with the mortals again, I will destroy you. Then I will hunt you down and bash your skull in as a babe in arms. And I will keep doing it until your star wanes and your power fades. You will stay in the Void, deaf, dumb and blind, until you are nothing. Do you understand?”

  The Lord of Light frantically bobbed his head up and down.

  “I’ll be watching you, boy.”

  Before the Lord of Light could offer excuses or plead for mercy, Vargus turned and walked slowly out of the church.

  CHAPTER 49

  Somewhere in the darkness a voice beckoned, and with it came the promise of warmth. As Balfruss rose up through the layers of fog, he could feel sunlight warming the skin on his face. Waking up was so difficult. It felt as if he were wading through mud for a long time before he managed to claw himself into the real world.

  Sitting upright in bed Balfruss stared around at an unfamiliar room. It was plainly furnished, with only a bed, a basin and a chair occupied by a sleeping man. It looked more like a cell than a bedroom, and the thick wooden door only added to his first impression. Golden sunlight shone down from a high window, and judging by the angle of the sun, he guessed it was approaching midday.

  The man in the chair looked familiar, but it took Balfruss a while to recognise him without his armour. He looked smaller, although the eye patch, scars and axe did nothing to lessen his villainous appearance. Balfruss let him sleep. He looked exhausted, his eyes ringed with dark smudges. The skin on his face was heavy with wrinkles, and even asleep the lines of tension were deeply etched in his forehead.

  Looking down at himself Balfruss saw he was dressed only in a long brown shirt that reached his knees. As he adjusted to his surroundings, a familiar and unpleasant smell assaulted his nose. That of unwashed bodies, blood and death. Part of it came from him, but something far worse crept into the room from beyond the door. That meant a hospital, and he must be in Charas.

  Standing up proved to be far more challenging than he’d anticipated. He supported himself against the wall until he regained his balance. All of the muscles and bones in his legs cracked as he stretched, his back twinging in pain. As the memories came flooding back Balfruss was surprised a few sore muscles were the least of his injuries.

  Leaving Graegor to sleep he tiptoed out of the room in search of a bath and fresh clothes. A doctor hurrying elsewhere stopped and stared in shock. His mouth hung open and he started to babble. When Balfruss asked where he could take a bath the doctor just pointed down the corridor. A little further along an equally startled nurse directed him until he found the bath-house. He ignored the steam room and went straight to one of the copper baths. The place was deserted except for an attendant, but Balfruss sent him away and filled the bath, pumping the water into a bucket himself. It felt good to exercise the muscles in his arms and shoulders after lying in bed. He guessed he’d been there for some time, but he wasn’t quite ready to deal with that just yet. Some of the cramp in his body faded, but the exercise seemed to awaken a host of small agonies in his legs and lower back.

  Once the bath was full of cold water Balfruss realised he couldn’t put off what he’d been dreading since waking up. He focused his will and reached out for the Source. The power flooded into him with ease and he continued to draw on it until it filled his being. Part of him felt enormous relief, but another part disappointment that nothing had changed. As ever, the unlimited well of power called to him, but it did not tempt him in the way he’d feared.

  Balfruss released a small trickle of power into the water, heating it until steam rose from the surface. He added some herbal salts and placed a wash cloth and coarse bar of soap beside the bath. The hot water eased away the aches that were lingering in his muscles, and for a while he forgot about everything. When the water began to cool he scrubbed his skin with soap until it was red. His beard was long and scraggly so he tidied it as best as he could manage with a borrowed pair of scissors.

  The attendant had anticipated his next request, as a pile of clean clothes waited just outside the door. The breeches were well made and comfortable, but the shirt too long in the sleeves. Balfruss rolled them up to his elbows and donned the pair of boots, which proved to be his own. They fitted so perfectly he sighed in pleasure, then went in search of something to eat.

  No one tried to stop him on his way out of the hospital, but every person paused in what they were doing to stare as he walked past. On the streets Balfruss thought things might be better, but it was only more of the same with more people. When he stopped at a street vendor to buy some fruit, the merchant refused his money and wouldn’t change his mind. The same happened when he stopped at a bakery for some bread and cheese.

  After a short walk Balfruss found a quiet square where he was able to sit and eat alone. And for a little while he could pretend that nothing was wrong. Both merchants had given him too much in their eagerness to get rid of him, but Balfruss found he was ravenous and managed to eat everything. The bread was warm and delicious and the red berries so sweet and tangy they left his fingers in a delightfully sticky mess.

  Closing his eyes he turned his face towards the sky and enjoyed the heat of the midday sun. Warm, and with a full stomach, he wanted nothing more than to live in the moment forever. An hour passed unnoticed in silence, but slowly, as the familiar smells and sounds of the city wrapped around him, a host of recent memories returned and with them the anguish of what had been lost. The full weight of recent events once again settled on his weary shoulders. The time for pretending was over.

  On the long walk to the palace he ignored the terrified glances and the mothers who pulled their children behind them at his passing. He paid no attention to the way conversations stopped and laughter was cut short.

  During his first week at the Red Tower, Balfruss and the other children had been told that people would be afraid of them. They knew nothing of the Source, its joy and majesty
, and how it connected all living things. His teachers had told him to ignore their fear and prejudice, because it came from ignorance.

  In spite of everything he’d done to protect them and the city, his own people still treated him as something monstrous. Seeing fear in the eyes of strangers was one thing, but seeing it on the faces of those he’d nearly died to protect was something else entirely.

  “Can you really blame them?” came the echo of Thule’s voice.

  “I wondered if you were still there,” said Balfruss to the ghost in his mind. “I don’t blame them, I’m just disappointed.”

  “You destroyed the Warlock. He was the most powerful Sorcerer alive. He manipulated the entire world into a war and thousands died. If he was capable of that, they wonder what you will do.”

  “I would never do that.”

  “I know that, but they don’t.”

  Word must have been sent ahead, because the palace gates stood open and the guards offered him a salute as he approached. Balfruss ignored them as well and kept walking, paying no attention to the palace servants and warriors who stepped aside or hurried away when they saw him coming.

  The doors to the throne room were closed, but the warriors threw them open and let him pass. The Queen waited on the throne, flanked on one side by her brothers and Vannok on the other.

  Vannok offered an apologetic smile and a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say he didn’t know why everyone was suddenly so scared of him. Not a hint of fear showed in Vannok’s eyes, for which he was grateful. He knew Balfruss would never harm any of those he’d fought so hard to protect. The others were more difficult to read, but Balfruss could sense a lot of uncertainty and the air hummed with tension.

  “Are you well?” asked the Queen and Balfruss allowed himself a brief smile. The throne had rightfully been hers all along. He’d seen how the others deferred to her. As well as that, for which he felt glad, she was also still a young woman with a kind heart. For now, at least.

  “I am recovering, Majesty. Thank you for your concern.”

  “You’ve been asleep,” she said, then shook her head. “You’ve been unconscious for five days. They didn’t think you would ever wake up.”

  “I’m happy to prove them wrong,” said Balfruss, but he knew there were many who were less pleased. It would have been a lot simpler if he’d died. There were a few other Battlemages out there, and many people with small Talents, but they had not answered the King’s call to arms. They would not be a threat to anyone, and because of what he and the Warlock had done, they might live the rest of their days without revealing their abilities.

  “As am I,” said the Queen, but Balfruss wasn’t sure if her words were genuine.

  “Thank you, Majesty.”

  Queen Talandra spread her hands wide. “Ask any boon, and if I have the power, I will grant it.”

  The tension in the room stretched further and Balfruss sensed more eyes watching him than those he could see. Before answering he slowly looked around the room, noting the large tapestries that were new additions. Poised behind them were several men armed with crossbows, no doubt dipped in something toxic. Without looking behind him Balfruss knew the guards who’d let him into the throne room so quickly were now stood inside the door with hands resting on their weapons. Visibly nothing had changed, and yet staring at the Queen he saw many layers beneath the naïve exterior she presented. In a way he was glad. She would need to be ruthless, driven and just as determined as her father to rule and maintain peace in the west.

  “All I ask, your Majesty, is that you honour the promise your father made to Sandan Thule. Shael must be free.”

  The Queen gestured towards Vannok. “General Lore is leading men into Yerskania and then south. The Queen of Yerskania is also sending warriors. An army will march into Shael to liberate its people. I swear it.”

  “Thank you, brother,” said Thule.

  “What else? What about something for you?” asked the Queen.

  Balfruss shook his head. “I don’t want anything.”

  “Surely there must be something?” pressed the Queen. He understood why she kept asking, because to sacrifice so much and receive nothing in return did not sit comfortably. But he wasn’t there to ease their collective conscience.

  “What I would like returned to me is beyond your power, or mine,” he said, and saw understanding in the Queen’s sad and knowing smile. She made a little fluttering gesture with one hand and the tense atmosphere quickly eased. “I am leaving Charas, your Majesty.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “North, to visit the First People. An old friend told me that one day I would stay with them.”

  “Then the least I can do is offer generous provisions and a steed for your journey,” said the Queen. She stood as if preparing to leave, but instead came down the steps towards him. Balfruss saw a few guards start to move towards him, but the Queen frowned and waved them back. Much to his surprise she embraced him and after a moment he wrapped his arms around her slender frame.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she whispered in his ear. “And I’m sorry that it’s come to this. Thank you for everything. You don’t deserve this.”

  Before he could reply she kissed him on both cheeks, which left him lost for words. The Queen stepped back and retook the throne, once more an official ruler in state.

  “On behalf of the people of Seveldrom, and the free kingdoms of the west, I thank you for your service. We owe you our lives.”

  Balfruss bowed deeply to the throne and then backed out of the room. By the time he’d packed up his meagre belongings and walked to the palace gates, Jonkravish, the Queen’s quartermaster, stood waiting for him beside a black stallion. Its saddlebags were bulging with food and provisions, and a heavy roll was tucked behind the saddle. Despite the extra weight the horse looked eager to run and he wasn’t about to disappoint his new steed.

  Balfruss climbed into the saddle, took the reins from the Morrin and looked around at his city. There were too many painful memories and so much had been lost. He had no reason to come back. There were still many places he had yet to explore, many mysteries to uncover.

  With his eyes on the horizon, Balfruss rode out of the city. A short way down the road he found Graegor waiting for him astride a black horse. He looked dressed and armed for war and carried provisions for a long journey. For a long time the two men just stared at each other in silence.

  “I will never forgive you for what you’ve done,” said Balfruss.

  “I know. I’m not here to say I’m sorry. It would be meaningless. I can’t change what I’ve done.”

  “Do you even regret it?” asked Balfruss. Graegor didn’t answer, but the emotion in his eyes spoke volumes. “Then why are you here?”

  “Your past is lost to me. I wasn’t part of it, but I want to be part of what comes next.”

  “Do you even know where I’m going?”

  Graegor shook his shaggy head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Balfruss didn’t know the man beside him. They weren’t family. He didn’t think anything could bridge the gap between them. Only time would tell.

  “Try to keep up,” said Balfruss, spurring his horse down the road.

  From a tower on top of the palace Talandra watched the two figures ride away from the city. She heard footsteps on the stairs and a minute later Shani moved to her side. They stood in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Talandra’s mind turned to the future and the challenges that lay ahead.

  “We should never have let him go,” said Talandra, more to herself than Shani.

  “You had no choice.”

  “This is his home. His family and friends are here,” said Talandra.

  Shani sighed. “The people are scared of him, and to be honest, so am I. It had to be this way.” A shiver ran down Talandra’s back and Shani put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

  “The only reason we’re safe today is because of Balfruss. He
sacrificed everything for us and we rewarded him with exile. What if one day that turns to bitterness? What happens tomorrow if he, or another Warlock, walks up to our gates? Who can we call on to stop them?” asked Talandra, but Shani didn’t have an answer. They were on their own.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Writing may be a solitary endeavour, but getting published is not. I’d like to thank my remarkable agent, Juliet Mushens, for her unwavering enthusiasm, her belief in my writing and her ongoing hard work. Sarah Manning, for all of her brilliant work behind the scenes. The team at Orbit, in particular Jenni, Susan and Joanna, for making me take a hard look at the story. I’d also like to thank the rest of Team Mushens, a disparate bunch of rogues, who have been incredibly supportive and now feel like they’re family.

  extras

  meet the author

  Photo Credit: Hannah Webster

  STEPHEN ARYAN was born in 1977 and was raised by the sea in northeast England. After graduating from Loughborough University, he started working in marketing, and for some reason he hasn’t stopped. A keen podcaster, lapsed gamer and budding archer, when not extolling the virtues of Babylon 5, he can be found drinking real ale and reading comics.

  He lives in a village in Yorkshire with his partner and two cats. You can find him on Twitter at @SteveAryan or visit his website at www.stephenaryan.com.

  interview

  What prompted you to start writing Battlemage?

  Before writing Battlemage I’d written several novels, mostly in the science fiction and fantasy genres. This was the latest novel in a fifteen-year journey to get published. Inspired by Legend by David Gemmell, the initial seed for Battlemage actually came from a short story I’d written a few years ago. It was about a mature wizard and his oldest friend going on one last mission together. They were in the twilight years of their lives and I began to wonder what had led the wizard, Balfruss, to that moment. Where had he come from? What about his adventures as a young man? I started building his story and it went from there.