“Yes,” Khan said. “I can take us all the way to Keshtor from here, and we will avoid the main trade road, which is far to the south.”
“How long will it take?” Salina asked.
“That depends on how quickly we travel,” Khan answered matter-of-factly.
Salina sighed, realizing she’d have to coax more information out of the detailed and specific-oriented Kesh wizard in order to draw a timeline on their journey. “Say we rest a half night and travel at speed for the other half night and most of the day. How long then?”
“Well,” Khan began, calculating several variables in his mind and addressing them on the fly. “The normal road can take four days at a standard pace, three if pressed, and two if at speed on a mount, and traveling late into the night and early before the day. Add a penalty of roughly a quarter of our speed for terrain, as well as an additional half day for being further to the north, and I would estimate the journey to the capital to take approximately four and a half days.”
“That is longer than the road at a standard pace,” Salina complained. “Your standard pace is what a cart would do if it was walked all the way there, correct?”
“A brisk walk,” Khan said, defending his calculations. “The Kesh oxen are bred for a quicker pace and able to pull heavier loads.”
“Is there any way to use that stamina spell on the others?” Targon asked.
“I am afraid not,” Khan said. “The spell is not one we know in Kesh. It was taught to me by the druid, and I am not proficient with it, not enough to do more than cast it on myself, and it works either too well at times or not well enough.”
“How can it work too well?” Cedric asked, curiosity coming over him now.
“I find myself unable to walk or stand still,” Khan said.
“You’re kidding, right?” Salina asked.
“No,” Khan replied.
Dorsun also added, “He’s not jesting.”
“I find it hard to believe.” Salina eyed him warily, but with a smile on her face.
Targon laughed. “He never shared this spell with me, but Dorsun did mention once that his master couldn’t stop running.”
“I did.” Dorsun nodded his head.
“You told them?” Khan asked, looking at the former chieftain with a side look.
“No, he didn’t,” Targon said. “Elister was asking and Dorsun mentioned it, but didn’t know I was nearby and overheard.”
“Spying, then, were we?” Khan said, and no one was sure if the dry-humored, overly literal Kesh wizard was joking or not.
“Of course not, Master. It is as the woodsman says,” Dorsun replied.
“Time is running out, so what do we do?” Salina asked.
“It is what it is,” Targon said. “No one would like to get to my mother quicker than I, but if it takes us that long, then so be it. I’ll do all I can to maintain a pace, but we can only move as fast as our slowest member.”
Salina nodded, and then said, “Leave now and stop at daybreak, or sleep and then travel during the sunlight hours? It may take a while for the sun to rise if evening started not too long ago.”
Targon looked at the sky and saw no stars; the cloud cover was too dense. They could barely see the ground more than a few feet in front of them, and they were still on the rocky slope of the Border Mountains, so the terrain would be treacherous at best. “We make camp and rest till sunrise no matter how long that may take.”
Will seemed eager for a fight, saying, “It could be close to half a day wasted if we make camp now.”
“I know,” Targon said. “There is another issue involving Core and Argyll. The bird can’t find us now with these clouds blocking his vision, even though he sees as well in the dark as he does during the day. I’d feel better if I knew he could lead us to Core or Core to us.”
“Yes, the bear is a good ally to have,” Dorsun said. A healthy dose of respect for the animal was evident in the man.
Khan had remained silent, but now spoke, breaking into their conversation. “There may be another option.”
All eyes turned to see the young wizard illuminated barely by a tinge of blue from his staff. He looked almost sinister if they didn’t know the man. “What do you propose?” Salina took the bait.
“Kesh patrols are designed to search and sometimes either herd prey to a specific area or keep an enemy from escaping into our back lines. The patrols we have been battling from Ulsthor have pinpointed to within a few leagues the location where we have been entering Kesh in order to raid and sabotage their supply lines to Ulatha.”
Targon was following better than the others, having been the one who led each raid. “Right, they are expecting us to enter, if we enter, well south of here.”
“Exactly,” Khan said. “Their patrols are designed to contain until we can be spotted and counterattacked. Each time we attack, we are forced to retreat due to this counterstrike they use with overwhelming force. Dorsun knows what I am referring to as well.”
Dorsun nodded, and with a return nod from Khan, he added, “The patrols will be semi-circular in shape and centered around the suspected entry point, as well as strengthened positions along the number-one target—the main trade road and the mountain pass.”
“So what stops them from moving at us now?” Cedric asked, not following what the difference was in their plans. “We are in Kesh here or a day south of here. I don’t see how that matters.”
“The half circle stops at the mountains where the terrain is not passable,” Khan said.
Dorsun used his experience to elaborate. “They are focused inward from that circle toward a region about five leagues wide along the mountains. They are not searching for us up here or behind the city of Ulsthor.”
“What do you mean by behind?” Salina asked.
“He means east of the city,” Khan said. “North, too, for that matter.”
Dorsun finished the thought. “Outside of this area, if we remain undetected, we can move much faster.”
“How fast?” Targon asked, his interest going up at the thought of reaching his mother sooner.
Khan pointed toward Ulsthor. “There are few homesteads, farms, ranches, or other inhabitants west of the city or north. West is bare because we . . .”—the wizard’s face wrinkled, and his skin creased where he made a face that indicated a bit of anguish, and then he corrected himself—“because the Kesh were wary of Ulathan counterattacks into this region of our . . . their territory. The northern region is also a buffer zone of sorts due to the occasional raids by the Northern barbarians who seemed able to pour across the mountains despite the rough terrain.”
Targon was half following and needed more information. “So you’re saying what, exactly? We can bypass these regions?”
“No,” Khan explained. “Quite the opposite. We can travel to the east side of Ulsthor and then to the road. We can either purchase or steal . . .” At this, he received a few sour looks from the Ulathans. “Ah, we can borrow some horses to travel at speed along the road.”
“Won’t we be traveling in full daylight and come into contact with the Kesh every day?” Salina asked, worried the plan would get them discovered almost instantly.
“Closer to Keshtor, it would be hourly,” Khan said. Before Salina could protest further, he continued, raising a hand in the dark to silence her. “I understand your concern, but look at Dorsun and I. We are known to the Kesh troops garrisoning in Ulatha as well as those patrolling the western reaches of this land. We may even be known to most of the troopers and leaders in Ulsthor. However, once we travel deeper into the realm, the citizens, tradesmen, farmers, and even inner patrols will not likely know who we are or what our status is with the . . . ah, wiz . . . I mean mages of this realm.”
It was obvious that Khan had a difficult time discussing Kesh and his caste as if it wasn’t a part of him. Dorsun gave him a long look with pity in his eyes and said, “It’s okay, Master. You don’t have to explain this to them.”
Th
e use of the word them raised more than one eyebrow, so Targon interjected quickly. “In the Kesh capital, you will look like a wizard and Dorsun will look like a Kesh commander, and no one will know better. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Chieftain,” Dorsun corrected.
“Chieftain, then.” Targon nodded. “How much time could we shave off the journey to Keshtor if we do this?”
Khan looked past the others at Marissa and lowered his voice. “If the child and her son”—he nodded toward Cedric—“stay behind, then we can make it there in two and a half days from the morning. Maybe two days if we ride hard and find suitable mounts early.”
“That wasn’t what the druid counseled,” Cedric complained.
“Yeah.” Marissa was in agreement with him. “You can’t leave us in Kesh alone.”
“What are you thinking, Khan?” Salina asked, not understanding the idea of leaving a twelve-year-old child in enemy territory even though she had battled the brigands more than once and was the most lethal child in all of Agon.
“They do not need to be alone,” Khan said, turning to face Will.
“Oh, by Agon, not on your life, wizard. I’m in this for payback. You can’t keep me from going to Keshtor.”
“It will be hard to disguise someone as tall as you and with your features,” Khan said.
“You can protect the children,” Dorsun said.
“Who are you calling a child?” Cedric said, his voice raised now and high pitched.
“Stop, all of you,” Targon said. “Look to the east, Khan. Do you see it?”
“I don’t see anything,” Will complained.
It took a moment before Khan said, “Yes, the sisters are rising, though their light will be faint tonight.”
“That means we waste close to half a day here as Will said if we wait till daylight to move out.”
“And we risk detection during the day,” Dorsun added.
“Right,” Targon said. “This may pain some of you, but I think we need to adjust our plans.”
“Please, Targon, don’t tell me I have to babysit her,” Cedric said, pointing at Marissa.
“Hey,” Marisa countered, “I don’t need you, either.”
“I won’t stay behind,” Will stated.
“But you’ve barely healed properly, Will,” Salina said.
Will pointed at Dorsun. “He took an arrow in his leg not more than a week ago and you say I’m hurt?”
“A bolt, actually,” Khan corrected, unable to help himself.
“The druid healed me well,” Dorsun said. “Besides, I can pass for a Kesh soldier on the road. Can you?”
Will looked at Targon. “What about the counsel of the druid? Didn’t Elister say we needed all our resources to secure your mother’s release?”
“He did,” Targon said. “But he also wasn’t aware of the dangers we faced and perhaps will face the rest of the way. I’m pretty sure that despite his wisdom, he couldn’t predict this weather.”
“What, this?” Will spread his arms at the sky. “This will blow over by midday tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” Targon said. “Look, I’m not eager to split us up right now, but this new option that Khan laid out may solve many more problems than we will face by running cross country across the rough terrain of the northern mountains. We should consider it well before objecting to it.”
“It’s your mother,” Salina said, looking at Cedric as she spoke. She grabbed his arm and finished. “We’ll do whatever you decide to do.”
Cedric shook his head and looked down before sighing and saying, “Fine.”
“Now that’s just great,” Will said, shaking his own head and gripping the hilt of his sword for no other reason than to vent his frustration. “I suppose I’ll be the one who has to answer to Agatha why the children were left undefended in the Kesh wilds.”
Cedric glared at Will but said nothing. Targon softened his tone slightly and said, “It’s not your responsibility. If anything, Marissa is mine, but so is Core. We have no idea when or if this cloud cover will clear, and Elister’s friend can’t help us find Core if he can’t see either of us.”
A long pause ensued and then Will said, “I’ll stay and guard the lair of these ancients with Cedric and Marissa under one condition.”
“What?” Targon asked.
“When you free your mother and return her safely to her home, we return here, find the wizard in Ulsthor, and kill him . . . for Inga.”
Targon matched the intense gaze of the pained Ulathan soldier who lost his men and now his female friend. He said simply, “Done.”
Chapter 19
Black Queen
Azor felt the struggle for power between him and the Black Queen begin. The battleground was hundreds of leagues distant, and the players were two pawns in a game of eternal life or death. The lich was more powerful than any mage alive, having been given extra centuries in which to hone his craft of magic and study the arcane from the ancients in his tower of prison. Using his critir, he rested his only hand there and channeled every ounce of energy he had into the only thing that would come into focus for him. The necklace that his servant had been given by the mage immortal. Either he would succeed or his servant would die, and he would be stuck in his stone tower forever.
The undead skeletons advanced after the words of their leader. “We do not suffer the living,” he had said.
With weapons drawn, the pair prepared to defend themselves to the death. Malik turned away from the altar and pressed his back against Isolda’s back. She seemed to understand and maintained contact by leaning back into him. Together, they would cover every area from which they could be attacked. When they were about to strike their first blows, a bright blue light started to glow off the gold necklace around the female thief’s neck.
The light intensified quickly, and the undead held up their bony hands and fingers to ward off the offensive light as if they had eyes that hurt. They tried to advance in an eerie silence, and Isolda asked, “Is this coming from your friend?”
Malik noted the polite term to refer to Azor the Lich since he had balked earlier when she had referred to him as Malik’s master. “I can think of no other.”
They prepared to strike again when a commanding voice said, “Hold.”
The animated skeletons stopped and froze in mid movement. They suddenly looked like frozen statues captured in a moment of time. Only the dim altering in intensity of their red glowing eyes indicated that they were still animated and capable of movement; however, they obeyed their own master’s command.
Malik took a moment to look back over his shoulder and see the small man peering intently at them. He moved slightly back toward the altar and to the side so that he could rest his free hand on the rod lying there.
Risking their rear, the former Ulathan scout swung around to stand next to Isolda and face the only enemy currently showing signs of movement. “What are you waiting for?” Malik asked.
“Don’t anger him,” Isolda said, her will to live calling out to her for caution in a moment like this. Only the intense light and strength emanating from the necklace allowed her to stand her ground against these undead.
“You should listen to the Balarian,” the man said. “She is one of us.”
“She is nothing like you,” Malik countered. “She is alive and you are not.”
The small man laughed, tilting his head back as he had done before, and then returning his gaze at Malik, he stopped and said, “Your mind remains simple, Ulathan.”
Isolda whispered to Malik, “I think he means that we’re both Balarian . . . or at least, he was at one time.”
Not sure if the small man heard her or not, he answered anyway. “Those of us from Balaria know better. You should learn at least one lesson during your visit to your realm.” The man allowed the club to drop so that he grasped it and held it as a weapon. “Do you even know what you are facing or with whom you are working?”
“Who, me?” Malik a
sked, pretty sure the undead man was talking to him and not Isolda, but he wanted to buy time for them to think of a way to escape.
The small man seemed to read his mind. “There is no escaping here unless she allows it.”
Malik looked at Isolda, and the thief could only shrug. “Can you—” Malik began, wanting to ask Isolda if she could allow them free passage, before being violently interrupted.
The other man’s club came up lightning fast and down upon the altar, sending a loud crack and boom throughout the rotting sanctuary. The dust from the altar blew up into the air, billowing as it expanded, and their ears hurt from the overpressure of the blow. “Not her, stupid boy, but the Dark Queen.”
Malik put his free hand down since it had risen to cover his ear without him realizing what he was doing. When he felt he could speak, he answered, saying, “I do not know this Dark Queen of yours.”
“You will soon enough, Ulathan.” The man allowed his club to hang from his arm again, pointed at the floor. “You know with whom you are working?”
Malik shrugged, trying to not anger the undead cleric of Akun, “Either you mean my companion here or the . . .” He suddenly had an urge not to disclose the name or status of the creature he was championing at this moment.
It didn’t matter; the dead man seemed to know. “The undead mage you serve is a mortal enemy of the queen. Do you understand this?”
Malik nodded. “Yes, now that you’ve told me.”
The man laughed, his eerie and haunted voice echoing off the walls, and the pitch and tone were supernatural. He suddenly pointed at Malik and said, “He wants his metal stick, so you better give it to him, but first, we must do something special for him. Come to me, boy.”
The informality of the dead man and disrespect for Malik was bad enough, but to command him as if another servant was almost unbearable for the proud Ulathan. Malik walked over to the man with his blade out in front of him. “I will cut your little head from your dead body and see if you talk to me that way while it’s rolling around on the floor.”
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