The Elementalist : Battle of the Mind: The Kothian Chronicles

by Andrew Wood

  Mikel patted Treader on the side of the neck, before lifting the reigns over and climbing up into the saddle. He fidgeted a little, as he got comfortable before looking back to see if the others were ready to make a move. He watched as Zack assisted Melia up on to her horse, and felt something wrench a little at his insides. "Come on lad, we don't have all day," Darion said trotting his horse ahead of the group. "I'm not sure I can cope with him being this nice all the time," Danton grinned as he followed.

  "I'm certain it won't last," Mikel replied not taking his eyes of Zack and Melia.

  In Waltham, Capital of Bosaria, Maxim was overcome with a sudden wave of fatigue. He felt as if his entire body wanted to shut down, and as a result, he stumbled forward a little. Gorius looked up suddenly from his seated position at his study desk, as his concentration was broken. Having just explained his situation to Shonna, who had since left the room, he was trying to calculate how many troops he had and where they were on his map. At first Gorius' reaction was to stand and shout, "What are you doing boy?" he bellowed thinking Shonna's warning had come to fruition.

  Maxim quickly stood up straight, as he knew he was supposed to do. Yet he felt the need to sleep and was not certain how long he could stand. Gorius looked at the young boy, and placed a hand on his forehead, just to confirm that the boy's mind was his to control. There appeared nothing untoward, apart from it was clear the lad was physically exhausted. "Still suffering from the effects of that sleeping drug are you?" Gorius said thinking aloud. Maxim did not reply, "Go on back to your room and rest then, we have no use for your talents just yet," Gorius told him.

  Maxim willingly obeyed, and slowly trudged his way out of the study door and down the corridor, heading for the room he had been allocated. There were no guards in the corridor, nor were there any in the room when he entered. Without even removing his boots, he slumped down on top of the bed and closed his eyes. He felt his body shutting down, as if every bit of it needed rest. His mind immediately wandered into a semi half like sleep. The word Pitford echoed around in his dream, and he knew it meant something.

  Within just a few minutes, names and faces were swirling around Maxim's subconscious mind. One face in particular appeared more pronounced than any other, that of a young man, with brown hair and deep brown eyes, a warm smiling face, a friend and a name suddenly came to him. Maxim's mind locked onto that image, as he fell deeper and deeper into his comatose state. The wealth of knowledge stored, untouched in the subconscious parts of his brain now became accessible. Maxim may have been deep in sleep, but he was learning, growing mentally.

  Gorius sat in his study, yawning loudly. It had been a long morning, and he thought he might lie down for a rest himself after his lunch. He stood to leave when he suddenly felt a cold shiver through his body. Something was wrong he thought, and he was then forced to double over in pain as his head felt it was going to explode. Thankfully, it was only short lived, but something had changed, and he needed to know what. He quickly dashed out of his study, and down the corridor. His heart pumped faster and faster, his unfit physique, making running for any length very difficult.

  Gorius burst into the room he had set aside for his prisoner. There were no guards around for him to call for aid; he had always deemed them not necessary. He entered the room to see the youngster sat on the side of his bed. Gorius immediately feared the worse, and that his young prisoner, had indeed, somehow managed to free himself from the mind control placed upon him.

  Maxim lifted his head up to see a man walking quickly in through the door. His mind was full to bursting with information, although the answer as to why he was sat on a bed in a strange room with an even stranger looking man eluded him. He stood, a little gingerly at first feeling light headed. He watched the man walk towards him, with a hand held out, "You are mine," he said as Maxim felt the man's palm touch his head.

  Maxim froze, "What are you doing?" he said as he felt a sudden conflict of thoughts. Something deep in his mind told him to fight against the man, "Get out of my head," he snapped.

  Gorius was astonished that his abilities had been merely brushed aside by the youngster. The very thing Shonna had warned him about that morning was happening. '"Guards," he shouted taking a step backward nearer the door, hoping that some might be in earshot of his words. He had never encountered anybody capable of withstanding his magic before, and was a little uncertain as to what to do next. He reached down to his belt and withdrew his dagger; whatever happened, the boy was not getting away from him.

  Maxim watched with curiosity as the man before him appeared shaken. He had no clue as to whom he was or what he had been trying to do to his mind; one thing was certain he was not going to let him near again. He heard the man shout for guards, and then watched on as he pulled a dagger, which he pointed his direction. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Maxim told him. Wherever here was, he knew it was not where he should be. Without a second thought, he merely waved his hand and man wielding the dagger was thrown to one side.

  Maxim watched as he went crashing into a chest of drawers, before landing on the floor with a thump. The man groaned, and Maxim was satisfied he was out of the equation. Without further ado, he walked out of the door and headed down the corridor. He was not familiar of the layout of the building he was in, but walked with a purpose as if he did. He heard the two guards heading his way before he actually saw them, and both stopped and drew their swords before approaching a little gingerly towards him.

  Maxim did not have time for such foolishness, and merely duplicated his action of earlier by sending the men slamming into the far wall. Both were left in a heap on the plush carpeted floor, but more importantly, they were out of Maxim's way. He made his way out of a set of doors and out into the cold. Word was certainly getting around quickly and he noticed several men approaching him, all with swords drawn. Why were all these people intent on trying to stop him? He was beginning to feel annoyed by it all as he headed for what he assumed to be the main gate.

  There was a lot of shouting and yelling going on in and around the palace yard, although Maxim paid little attention to any of it. He suddenly felt a new sensation...one of danger, a warning he thought. His senses and powers were seemingly much more alert than they were previously. He clicked his fingers and teleported just a few yards forward just as two crossbow bolts flew by just where he had been. There was something new he thought, he had teleported with Zack before, but never by himself. He felt a sudden anger at these men trying to kill him, after all he had done nothing to them. All he wanted to do was to go home to see his friends again.

  With his temper hovering on boiling point, he looked to see them closing the main gates in front of him, just as he ducked by another bolt fired from somewhere up on the wall. Enough was enough, and his temper finally got the better of him. Feeling the power flowing, oozing almost through his veins, he felt as if there was nothing he could not do. He took a deep breath and pushed both hands forward releasing a stream of white-hot fire. The gates merely disintegrated as it struck them, and what was left simply hung limply, from the huge iron hinges.

  Gorius had made his way from the room, and not sure if he had broken his arm, he staggered down the corridor. There were a few guards looking in a worse state than himself, and he left them be as he headed for the palace yard. He ignored the sudden cold temperatures as he watched the young man brush his men aside as if they were no more than toys. He saw men firing crossbows, "Don't kill him...I need him alive," he shouted, not certain his words were being heard. His jaw dropped as he stood watching his palace gates destroyed in the blink of an eye, just confirming that he needed this young man. Nevertheless, how could he capture something so very dangerous, and seemingly immune to anything he could do?

  Gorius knew he needed to think quickly, normal weapons were no use against such a man. If he were going to be stopped, it would have to be by magicians. He quickly made his way over to the building housing his few remaining magical people, clutching his i
njured arm close to his chest. He cursed having sent the most potent of them to fight in Kothia, and he was not certain what was left that would help his cause. Teleporters, healers, illusionists...how could they stop such powerful foe?

  Maxim paused as he watched the gates he had just destroyed suddenly reappear. His immediate response was to release another stream of fire, only this time the gates merely seemed to flicker as he watched his flames pass right through, leaving the gates intact. His anger quickly changed to puzzlement, what was going on?

  Gorius watched in relief as the young lad looked bemused; it seemed the small lapse in concentration gave his few remaining magicians time to act. One of his teleporters with a healer in hand darted forward alongside the escaping prisoner. Everything happened so quickly he barely witnessed the healer place her hand over that of the lad, who suddenly fell to the floor in a heap.

  Gorius rushed over to where his prisoner had collapsed. The young girl who had captured him still held his hand. "Is he still alive?" Gorius gasped still out of breath.

  "He is...I have only slowed his heart rate down so low that his body cannot operate," she replied.

  He looked at her, and nodded. "Can you keep him like this?" he added, suddenly feeling the pain of his own injury.

  "I can, but only as a short term method. I have to keep contact with him," she replied looking up to her king.

  Gorius stood back up, as he watched the illusionist walk over towards him. Neither he, the teleporter, nor the healer could have been much older than twenty years old, yet they had thought and reacted quickly. "Excellent work, all of you...I will see you rewarded for this," Gorius told them. He ordered two of his guards to help carry the prisoner back indoors, with the young healer still holding his hand. She noticed Gorius was holding his arm and wincing in pain, "Would you like me to heal that Sire?" she asked. He shook his head, "Not just yet...Get him inside...I need to find a way to keep him sedated," he added trying to recall what the Kothian lad had used to knock him out. He enquired whether they had Spore spray, to which the healer answered they did. "Excellent...that will knock him out...use that on him and then come see me," Gorius ordered her.

  Shonna was already waiting for him by the time he returned to his study. She had the look of 'I told you so' on her face, but remained quiet as he suddenly felt the pain in his arm become more apparent. The two of them sat silently down, "We got lucky," she told him. "How do you plan to keep him? It is clear your abilities can not control him as hoped," she added trying not to sound to condescending. Gorius stared over at her, he was hurting, and not just physically. His ego had certainly taken a knock; never had anybody merely brushed him aside in such a manner. He was clearly not as untouchable as he had become accustomed too, and this was a feeling he did not like, or wish to experience again. However, he was also determined that keeping the boy was a necessity, quite how he was now going to do that, he was yet uncertain.

  Chapter 15.

  Gartham was a town some fifty miles from the Great River that divided the nation of Kothia from Bosaria. News had spread west of the invading army that had taken Sandale, and that was now approaching. The Mayor of Gartham had done all he could to help prepare for what was now upon them. Having had much of the town's garrison emptied by the bureaucrats in Berxsley to help defend the capital, he was left with less than fifty soldiers.

  The surrounding villages and farmsteads had emptied and many of the people had taken refuge in the town, hoping it would afford them some protection. Temporary housing had been set up in the market square and supplies stockpiled in case they were forced into a prolonged siege.

  The Mayor was much younger than most that held such positions in Kothian towns. A man in his mid-twenties, he had been a surprise appointment some seven months before. In his short time in office, he had worked hard to improve the town's infrastructure, and had fortunately seen fit to make repairs to the wall that surrounded the town. Previous mayors had not seen the wall as a cost worthy item, preferring instead to spend funds on the Mayoral residence instead.

  The perimeter wall only stood some fifteen feet in height, originally erected the previous century to keep out bandits. It was never really designed to withstand an attacking army, but was all that now stood between the townsfolk and the invaders. The remaining soldiers now spread themselves out thinly along the top, interspaced here there by able-bodied men and strong lads from the local populace. The mayor had lost the best of his troops, and those he was left with were either too old or too young to have had any experience in battle. Having had the opportunity to leave at any time, the young mayor however had stood by his people, and hence positioned himself along the top of the wall with the others. How long they would hold out against the enemy hordes approaching the town he was unsure.

  Davan, the man charged with the invasion of Kothia by King Gorius had remained in Sandale. With his final goal being the capital Berxsley, he needed to plan and move his armies around carefully. He knew Gorius had sent another smaller invasion south to assist the Mountain Folk in keeping the King's forces and magicians occupied. Kothia may be divided, but he was not so naive as to think he could merely march in and take control without a fight. Already he had received several reports of the government calling to arms as many men as they could, taking them from other towns to defend the capital. Naturally, that meant taking the towns a little easier, although meant his final goal would be more difficult.

  Davan though had his own magicians, and although clearly not as powerful as those protecting the Kothian King in Pitford, did give him the edge of the government forces defending Berxsley. Those with magical powers would now be able to show their abilities in taking the town of Gartham. Working alongside more conventional soldiers, he hoped he had devised ways of utilising their modest powers to give him an unbeatable advantage. Having decided his presence was not needed in taking Gartham he now waited impatiently for news.

  The Mayor of Gartham looked along the wall to his left, where old men and boys as young as fourteen, watched on as helplessly as he did, as the enemy formed ranks just a few hundred yards away. He looked out in the far distance, in some vain hope of aid, but it was clear none was coming and they stood alone. Outnumbered, they had no option but to await the inevitable. No offer of surrender had been forth coming, and by all accounts was not something he would have considered after reports of atrocities in Sandale. They were all willing to fight for their homes, although the odds of seeing another day for many of them seemed unlikely.

  The magicians amongst the Bosarian attackers grouped up, each one pairing with a heavily armoured infantryman. Those upon the wall looked on unaware as to what was going on, or what was about to happen. No ladders or climbing boards could be seen, nor any form of battering ram to take down the doors. For those defending it was a puzzling state of affairs, not sure quite what the enemy was planning.

  The Mayor looked over to the section of wall above the southern gate, as the first sounds of battle came from that direction. The Bosarian teleporters each held on to a soldier and with a flash of light carried them up onto the top of the wall, before quickly retreating, back down to repeat the procedure. The handful of infantry soon gained an important foothold as the defenders struggled to hold them back. Within a minute dozens of Bosarians were holding a shield wall against the defenders, allowing the teleporters to bring more and more from the enemy ranks into the battle.

  The Mayor watched on trying to comprehend what had happened. How the enemy had suddenly appeared amongst his defenders, he did not know; the only thing he could do now was try to fight them off. He gave a rallying call, holding his short sword aloft before darting forward to where the enemy had appeared. He clambered over a couple of dead bodies, both men from his own side. He was glad several others had rallied to him, as he swung his sword down, only to see it deflected aside. A long blade came thrusting his direction from behind the shield wall, which he failed to dodge completely. The injury was thankfully only a minor one, a
nd he quickly reacted to a small gap appearing in the enemy shields. He thrust his own sword forward, straight into the face of an enemy soldier peering foolishly from between the shields.

  The attackers on the wall soon had sufficient numbers to break out. Their aim was the southern gate, and with the teleporters seemingly bringing more and more in to the battle, it was quickly clear the town would soon be over run. Within just a few minutes, the Bosarians had fought their way to the gates, opening them from the inside to allow the awaiting hordes outside access within. Those defending the wall were forced to fight in the streets as they were soon very quickly, and mercilessly overrun.

  Knowing their cause was now completely hopeless; those few remaining defenders dropped their weapons, deciding that surrender may be the only chance of survival. The Bosarian soldiers rounded them up, as the last of the fighting ended. Gartham was lost, and another Kothian town was under the control of the Bosarian invaders.

  The supplies stored by the townsfolk were quickly commandeered by the Bosarian soldiers, critical to allow them to continue their push forward. Keeping such a large number of soldiers fed depended heavily on them capturing as many supplies as possible. If they failed to do so, they would have to rely on transporting them from Bosaria, meaning the farther they invaded the slower the progress would be.