The Elementalist : Battle of the Mind: The Kothian Chronicles

by Andrew Wood

  The seer watched on as the group started chatting amongst themselves, in an attempt at gauging their responses. Danton felt his anger levels rise as two of his colleagues made suggestions on who the murderer would be. "That red haired lad...has got to be him. Bloody boy has been nothing but trouble since his arrival," he heard one say.

  "Stands to reason, I say. If Ramon says he has seen the king dead, and four guards, it would likely be someone of his sort," added another.

  Danton had heard enough, and stood before placing his coffee cup on Ramon's study table. "Oh really? And what exactly is his sort?"

  "The lad is a killer Danton," one of the men replied, "You cannot deny that."

  Danton scoffed at the remark. Yes, it was common knowledge Maxim and Darion had killed scores of men when rescuing the king. Not to mention the soldier in Woodhaven, and the one in the forest. Yet he was sure Maxim would not do such a thing. "Why would he want to kill the king? He has just spent the last day and a bit rescuing him. If he had wanted him dead he would surely have killed the man then," he finally spoke in harsh tone.

  Ramon put up a hand, as if to placate those before him. He had hoped the group could have discussed it calmly, but it appeared the conversation was already getting out of hand. As much as the seer did not want to start pointing fingers at possible targets, the acts he had envisaged could only have been carried out by a powerful magician; unfortunately, Maxim fell into that very category.

  Ramon reminded them all about the previous war. The then leader of Bosaria, Galdor, had used mind controlling to get others to do his bidding. It was therefore possible that the person responsible did not yet even know, it was they, who would be committing the act. As a result, Ramon told them, it could quite possibly be anyone.

  Knowing that the group would only start accusing randomly once more, he let them finish their drinks, before dismissing them. He asked each to keep a watchful eye on anybody acting just a little out of character. He was certain many had already made up their minds who they thought it would be. There were naturally only so many it could be, as not every magician in Pitford had the skills to kill multiple targets so quickly and efficiently.

  He watched the last man close the door and leant back in his chair, and tapped his fingers tips on the arm as he thought. He realised he could discount a number of people by the type of magic they were capable of. Although a skilled healer could kill a man by stopping his heart, they would have to make contact with the person they were killing. Doing it on one person would have been possible; however, Ramon had seen five dead in the room, the others present would have had time to react. The vision he had seen had them dead pretty much where they had been stood, and not bunched up as if fighting an attacker. Knowing that killing the king and four guards was not feasible this way he could discount any of his healers.

  Only a very skilled magician with offensive skills would have been able to kill so many so quickly. Although he could not rule out a teleporter, he thought it again unlikely. If the attacker were a skilled assassin and jumped from one target to the next, at least one would have had chance to react in some way. Moreover, most of his teleporters were inexperienced, aside from the few he had teaching them.

  He then considered the one person that had been named in the accusations. Maxim was certainly powerful enough to wipe out dozens of men with a flick of his fingers. Yet Ramon doubted the young man had been responsible for the deaths in his vision. "He loses control," he said to himself. "It could not have been him. The room would have shown signs of being destroyed," he added, realising he was talking to himself before looking around the room to make sure he was still alone. He did not want people thinking he had completely lost the plot.

  He knew of one man who could have committed the offence. Yet why would he? Darion was a powerful man, although his loathing for anyone in authority was clear for all to see. He was certainly capable of killing five men, quickly and without any qualms, whether one of them was the king or not. Ramon shook his head; he could not imagine the old man doing such a thing. Although if he were being compelled to do it by another, there was still that possibility. Regardless of trusting him, Ramon knew he would have to keep an eye on Darion. More to see if he was behaving out of character, than actually suspecting he would be responsible, he told himself.

  Chapter 5.

  With the loss of his soldiers who had been raiding the Kothian border areas, to the elementalist, Gorius had already dispatched more to resume the process. With little or nothing to stop them, the Kothian villages and towns in the area would be easy targets. Keeping the identity of his forces secret was not even needed anymore. In fact, this time he wanted the Kothians to see whom it was that was taking their lands.

  The twin rogue assassins he had sent had, and still were, causing havoc in the Kothian capital Berxsley. Aside from the one man he had used to overthrow the king, several other government officials had also been taken care of. The effect of their handiwork, he had been told by the latest reports, was already having major effects. Such was the fear amongst the remaining Kothian officials, a substantial number of soldiers who had remained loyal to them, were now being utilised as nothing more than bodyguards.

  With these troops being used in this manner, it pretty much neutralised them as any kind of coherent fighting force. Apparently, many of the government officials were paying handsomely for the guards to remain at their side day and night; such was the level of fear being caused.

  Despite news of the king, relocating to a place he had subsequently learned was called Pitford, Kothia was all but leaderless, and Gorius knew this window of opportunity to good to miss. Whilst his enemy was struggling internally, fighting amongst itself, he needed to strike a decisive blow. As a result, the Bosarian leader had ordered Davan, his most trusted friend to lead the next phase.

  Already amassing, Davan was to take a small band of magicians as well as two full battalions of more regular soldiers. Their immediate target was the Kothian capital city of Berxsley. He hoped taking the city would force the Kothian king to move his forces from their hiding place, although he already had certain measures in place that he hoped would deal with the enemy leader. Kothia was torn apart politically; its army was split, and the man supposedly running the country hiding away in fear.

  Now Gorius was certain of the whereabouts of the Kothian stronghold, he had considered re-acquainting with old allies. Shonna, the old lady with the beast known as the Aclat had explained to him about the tribes of the White Cap Mountains. This range of snow-covered peaks overlooked the very place his enemy were currently situated. The people who dwelled there had briefly sided with Galdor the last time the two nations were at war. Although when the tide of battle had turned, the mountain tribes had quickly returned to their homes.

  Shonna explained to Gorius that perhaps the offer of some small part of southern Kothia might be able to persuade the tribes to a more permanent alliance. The Bosarian king leaned back in his chair, looking at the old lady before him. He had to admit her passion for conquering the Kothians matched even his own. Her long grey hair was tied back with a bow, to keep it from covering her wrinkled face. Her pointy features and pale pallor, gave him the impression she had probably never been duly blessed with any good looks. Despite her having a face that looked uglier than the very beast she controlled, he liked her. He had already sought her opinion on several matters, and had to admire her strategic thoughts.

  A serving man carrying a tray placed two crystal glasses down on the study desk, before pouring both Gorius and his guest a drink of red wine. He gestured with his hand for her to drink, before asking her to continue in her description of the Mountain folk. She nodded her head forward and took a sip from her glass before speaking.

  The White Cap Mountains were home to several tribes, all commanded by Tribal leaders. Life for them was hard and mortality rates for the young and old alike were high, with only the strongest surviving the harsh conditions in which they were forced to live. S
honna was quite sure they would fight for Bosaria again if they thought there were gains to be made. The people here not only made ruthless warriors, they also rode large beasts known as Caruc.

  A Caruc was a large horned creature standing on four sturdy powerful legs. Their skin was thick and difficult to penetrate with traditional weapons. With its heavy bone-armoured head, the Mountain folk used them to plough through anything and anybody that got in their way. Hence, the beasts were not easily controlled, and only ridden by the finest warriors and tribal chiefs.

  Behind the peaks overlooking Kothia's southern lands, were the valleys upon which the villages and towns of the tribes were located. Here, there was just enough land for the people to work and scrape enough food. This was supplemented by fish that dwelled in the many rivers and streams that flowed from the peaks. The Caruc were kept in herds, with their meat and skin both put to good use. The female beasts were somewhat smaller and easier to handle than their male counter-parts, and it was these larger bulls that were ridden and trained by the elite warriors. Only a man who had demonstrated great strength and courage was given the privilege of owning such a creature.

  During the last war, it had been these very same creatures that had caused severe damage to Pitford. Once the outer walls had been breached, the enemy magicians and soldiers had then gone on a killing spree. Few people, whether they had been civilian or troops defending, had escaped with their lives that day.

  Gorius took another sip from his wine and nodded, "Very well, these mountain folk of yours sound an ideal ally," he said.

  Shonna cast him a grin, "I can fly my Aclat and be there within a few hours. I may need some gold to offer them as a sweetener, but I am quite certain I can persuade them to join us."

  Gorius nodded again, "I can arrange for that."

  The discussion then moved on to the elementalist. Gorius told Shonna how he had been within an inch of getting his hands on the boy, "With him under my control, we would be all but unstoppable," he concluded. The old lady scratched at her thinning grey scalp, as if deep in thought. "I have a possible plan," she said with an evil look upon her aged face. Gorius gestured for her to speak her mind, and leaned a little closer, intrigued as to what that might be.

  He sat their nodding and grinning for several minutes as the idea was explained to him, and after Shonna had finished he stood and clapped his hands together. The excitement was clear to see, this was a wonderful plan. If everything went well, within a few days he would get his hands on the prize he sought.

  In Pitford, Oran was glad to have his family back together and safe. He had set up his office and living quarters in the few rooms, allocated to him by Ramon, and although it was not much, he knew it was more than others were afforded. His study was small, but functional with a desk and chair. It had a writing set placed atop, alongside an ever-growing pile of papers. A fire was lit in the small hearth, but it barely gave off enough heat to counter the chill in the room. He rubbed his hands together and sat down at his desk to start his day's work. He may have been hundreds of miles from the palace, but it seemed the task of signing and reading pieces of paper followed him wherever he went.

  The two rooms he had been given for living quarters were a little larger. Although it did mean all four of them sharing one bedroom, it did allow the other to be used as a living area for daytime use. The furniture within was plain but sturdily made. A stone hearth, much larger than the one in his study, had a good fire burning, and gave off a comforting warmth. Anden, the young prince, had originally been allowed to explore the keep at will, however, since Ramon's vision, he was now grounded to the two rooms.

  Until the soldiers travelling south turned up at Pitford with the rest of their belongings, the royals had to make do with the minimum of clothes. Other than the ones they were wearing when transported, they had the choice of making do, or wear items donated by the local citizens. Although the queen had politely declined the offer, she did appreciate the kindness shown. The young Prince Anden had no such qualms, and was quite happily wearing a pair of trousers that had been patched on the left knee. Now he was forced to sit with his mother and younger sister though, he was totally miserable and bored.

  The queen was also finding it difficult to be alone with her two children, confined to such a small space. More used to fine dining with her close friends, or sitting chatting with her embroidery circle, she knew she had to keep a positive attitude, even if it was only a front. The Princess Frena still clung to her side at every opportunity, although she had at least stopped continually sobbing. She was however thankful for small mercies, knowing they were at least warm and safe, with people around them that were trustworthy and loyal.

  In the keep yard below, the soldiers who had for so long kept the magicians safe, now had a new purpose. With the king's own men, still a number of days away from Pitford, the small contingent of troops normally under the command of Ramon, were being put through their paces. With the location and purpose of Pitford now all but common knowledge, they needed to show true professionalism.

  Building work around the castle had to be quickly undertaken. The current barracks only housed the sixty or so men guarding the town. Soon there would be several hundred more arriving, and they would need somewhere to sleep and rest. As a result, a number of temporary buildings were being erected as a short-term solution. These were little more than timber framed buildings, and although not ideal, would at least provide the men with some cover from the elements.

  A few of the older buildings were being repaired, and it was hoped these would suffice as the soldier's mess hall and kitchens. Further stabling had to be found to accommodate the large influx of horses also expected, and as a result, Pitford was a hive of activity. Several wagons had already been sent to both the nearby towns of Larton and Denley. The task was to buy up as much spare food as they get their hands on, all at a reasonable price of course. Both Ramon and Oran knew only too well, how quickly prices of everything would go up, if word got out they needed supplies of pretty much everything urgently. It was hoped by sourcing their goods from several areas, such price hikes could be avoided.

  The guards currently in Pitford were now thinly spread, knowing now that they would have to be ready for a very real threat. Before, it had always been more a case of perimeter patrols and controlling who passed through the outer and inner gates. Now the outer wall had to be manned, showing the presence of soldiers. Their very purpose had always been one of discretion, but now they needed to make themselves seen. As a result, dozens of soldiers now had the thankless task of standing atop the walls in the freezing cold temperatures. To make life easier for them, several braziers had been lit to help them keep warm whilst on duty. In addition, Ramon had ordered hot food and drinks be taken to those on duty at least twice a day.

  Chapter 6.

  Shonna sat atop the Aclat, its wings spread outwards, gliding above the thick cloud. The creature did not appear to feel the icy cold as much as she did. She had several layers of clothes over her skin, as well as thick furs, and she still felt the biting wind chill her to the bone.

  She willed the beast to descend just a little below the cloud as the place known as Pitford came into view. Still remaining high enough to be nothing more than a spec to those on the ground, she circled the town twice more. She could not see a lot from her altitude, other than outlines of the walls and buildings, but content she now had the general layout of the place she sent the Aclat higher once more. Turning directly south, she headed to the peaks of the White Cap Mountains, and the valleys beyond.

  At the first opportunity, she sent her Aclat to descend, with its wings swept back, the creature darted ever lower like an eagle swooping down upon its prey. At the last moment, it levelled off, flying just a few feet over the tall pines that lined the deep valley. Flying faster than a speeding arrow, she banked left and dropped down a little further just above ground level.

  After landing the Aclat just on the outskirts of a large town, Shonn
a climbed down. As she shook her limbs a little to help regain the circulation, several large framed warriors approached and quickly surrounded her position, and the Aclat snarled and stood tall, preparing to attack if needed. However, Shonna quickly placed a placating hand on the creature, and it soon pacified. The warriors approached cautiously a little nearer, each dressed in thick furs and holding a long pointed spear.

  Despite being an elderly woman, and the fact she was surrounded by a dozen or so burly looking warriors, Shonna felt no fear. Her calmness appeared to rub off on her Aclat, as the beast's original aggressive stance changed to a much more composed one. She watched as the natives seemed to be somewhat puzzled by her lack of action. When a couple of warriors mounted atop Caruc approached, she examined the faces of their riders.

  She cast a grin as one face looked familiar. She bowed her head just a little in greeting, her acknowledgement to the one in power.

  "It has been many years Shonna of Bosaria," a deep gruff voice hailed her.

  "And they have been long ones, Hadan of the Vardac Tribe," she replied.