The Accidental Archmage: Book Three - Blood Wars (The Accidental Archmage Series 3)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  The priestess gave a low bow. The two companions wore surprised faces.

  Suprised, not overwhelmed, Tyler thought. One would have thought being in the presence of a demigoddess would have more effect on these two.

  “But we have to hurry, sire,” said Astrid. “It won’t be long before that relief force catches on to our trail.”

  And that crazy Aztecah witch and her… what was it? Bloody Left Hand?

  “The guide told us he’d meet us at some ruins about five miles that way,” pointed Tyndur. “We do need to haul our posteriors now.”

  “We won’t get a mile from this place in my condition. I am still healing, but it will take time,” said Tyler as he spit out some blood.

  “Sire, what happened? You are gravely injured if that blood is any indication,” queried Astrid.

  “An Aztecah witch and her boy toys. Broke one toy, don’t know what happened to the other. Lady Asem here threw her off the hill. But they’ll be coming, same as your Aztecah fans.”

  “We should retreat, First Mage,” said Asem. “With you in that condition and only four of us, it would be folly to confront that demigoddess and the force she will be bringing with her.”

  “Demigoddess?” asked Tyndur.

  “That she is, Tyndur. But I prefer to call her a witch,” clarified Tyler. “But the Incans? There are thousands of women and children in that settlement! Not to mention what remains of the defenders and the ones already captured!”

  Asem looked at him. Tyler felt a gentle wave pass through his body.

  “You are badly hurt. More than you let on. Healing, yes. But a repeat of that experience in your present condition will probably kill you.”

  Anger and desperation rose in Tyler.

  “But those people! I don’t want their deaths on my hands! I can handle those bastards!”

  “Look inside yourself first and determine if you can fight the way you are now,” calmly answered Asem.

  “Guys? Is what she’s saying true?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. The corruption taint is making it difficult to treat your injuries. They heal and then the injuries come back, though in a lesser form. We are forced to do continuous healing until we determine the cause of the anomaly.”

  Tyler gripped his staff tightly. He now noticed his breathing had a raspy quality to it.

  “Their deaths are on my head,” he said quietly.

  “Or your death and ours on their heads,” softly countered Asem. “My magic is more of protection, healing, and purification. I have few offensive spells. For offense, I rely more on my skills with the staff and the khopesh.” Asem turned and showed her back to Tyler. Strapped to it was a sickle-shaped weapon.

  “We can’t win this fight, First Mage. The enemy is too numerous and too powerful. You may be mighty in your own right, but even a First Mage doesn’t know the abilities of the Aztecah. Especially now. Even I, a High Priestess of Thaut and his daughter, steeped in magical lore and experience, have no idea what that repulsive corruption magic is. This is the first time I have encountered it. The fact that a purification blast worked against that demigoddess does not bode well for our chances. They haven’t even called upon their pets to aid them yet,” continued Asem.

  I did forget this is where that Greater Yahui came from, thought Tyler despondently. She’s right. We could all die here. Unless I lose control again and do something stupid. Then wake up and find that I destroyed my companions and all the lands in this part of Adar. But… the death of innocent thousands on my conscience?

  “Sire, I believe the Lady of Thaut is right. You could decide we fight and die here. But for a lost cause. Or you could live and fight to avenge the innocents on another day,” added Tyndur.

  Tyler coughed and spat. Blood again. I do need time to recover. It galls me to admit it, but they’re right. Corruption magic and yahui. Or their ilk.

  “If we head for the ruins, how we get there? I can’t keep up with your pace,” he asked.

  “I could carry you,” said Tyndur.

  “That would be best,” said Tyler as he wiped the blood from his mouth. “It will give me time to recover. Or until I stop coughing up blood. Internal damage and bleeding, I guess. But I will remember this day.”

  Tyndur lifted the mage in a fireman’s carry. The movement was painful even though the einherjar tried to do it slowly. Tyler asked Astrid to lead the way, with Asem guarding the rear.

  “Oh. Before I forget, that Aztecah witch had some strange magic. Watch out for it if we run into them. It breaks barriers easily. Consumes their energy. And some corruption protects her from ordinary magic spells. Do remember that.”

  “Thanks, sire,” said Astrid before she set off. “Though considering she inflicted that much damage on you, that in itself is a warning of how powerful she is.”

  That she is, thought Tyler. And how do I handle her? Plus that crazy and irritating voice!

  The quartet quickly moved in a file, headed in the direction pointed out by Tyndur.

  Chapter Lore:

  Khopesh – Egyptian. A sickle-shaped sword that evolved from battleaxes. The tip of the weapon is usually hooked and used to pull down an opponent’s shield.

  Chapter XI

  Of Etl and Ground Tepolli

  With Astrid leading the way, they made good time. Her scouting skills were enabling them to avoid the worst of the thick bush and rugged terrain. Tyler checked with the AIs on the healing issue and found that the degree of damage had already lessened. But he still tasted blood in his saliva. The mage realized this was the worst set of injuries he had suffered so far. And from a mere demigoddess.

  Calmer and stronger now, he thought about the pursuit. Of that, the mage had no doubt. He let his affinity flow again but in the direction of the enemy, extending it as far as he could. He could detect some strong signatures at the edge of the scan. Considering the present range of the ability, Tyler estimated the Aztecah to be a few miles behind. Quite close, or around two miles if he opted for the lower range of his guess.

  “They’re following,” he told Tyndur. The einherjar was tireless. Even with Tyler on his shoulders, he kept pace with the swift Astrid. The mage did find it troublesome to keep his staff off the tangled undergrowth.

  “Of course, sire. They smell wounded prey and we would be the ideal candidates for their ceremonies. I mean, where else could they obtain specimens such as us?” laughed Tyndur.

  A bit of Habrok and a bit of Jorund, observed Tyler. Plus, a lot of the warrior who attacked Elders. I have to resolve my concerns about him. The danger of conflicting objectives is too high.

  The group continued rushing through the forest undergrowth. There was no need to be concerned about leaving traces of their retreat. No break was taken from the grueling pace. The enemy was following them. From time to time, Tyler checked on their pursuers. The Aztecah hunters were closing the gap and the mage could now determine that less than two miles separated them.

  Finally, as they crested the ridge of a low hill, they saw the ruins beyond a flat grassland bordering the forest. It was nestled against the mountains. There was also a deep chasm dividing the grassy plain from their destination. An ancient and partially destroyed stone bridge some six hundred meters to their left awaited them. Beyond it was a cratered road leading up to a large flat-topped pyramid. The scattered remains of buildings and other destroyed structures were in front of the edifice. The entire area across the bridge was overrun by trees and bushes. The pyramid itself apparently escaped the fate of the rest of the abandoned and ruined settlement though it showed its age, being covered by crawling vegetation.

  Shit. A dead end?

  For a few minutes, Astrid surveyed the flat but grassy terrain before them. Meanwhile, the rest caught up with her.

  “Looks clear, sire.”

  “Wait,” advised Tyler as he let his ability with the natural magic around them flow through the area in front. Nothing was there except for telltale signs of animals. The Incan deity se
emed to be late as the mage couldn’t sense him.

  “It’s clear. Let’s go.”

  The four quickly crossed the wide clearing. From his vantage point on Tyndur’s torso, the mage could see signs of cultivation on the ground, now abandoned and overtaken by weeds. Reaching the bridge, they could see it was heavily damaged. Few stone railings were left while the pavement had numerous cracks in it. A large part of the bridge flooring on their side was already gone, leaving a narrow crossing space. It was fortunate that the damage was on top of the abutment, otherwise the bridge would have collapsed already. The chasm was quite deep, around four to five hundred feet, and Tyler could see a whitewater river at its bottom.

  “I suggest I go first, sire,” said Astrid. “I’ll see if the existing structure could bear our weight.”

  The Valkyrie crossed the thirty-foot bridge, stopping from time to time to check on its stability.

  “It can bear your weight. Cross quickly!” shouted Astrid.

  As they crossed, Tyler checked on their Aztecah pursuers once more. They’ve closed the distance. Around a mile or so remained between them. They’re fast, he thought.

  “Let me down, Tyndur,” asked Tyler as they reached the other side. The two other companions had already taken positions behind some stone walls. The mage felt better. Not exerting himself in their flight enabled his body to recover significantly. But he could still taste blood in his mouth.

  “They’re closer now,” he told the einherjar. “About a mile off. And I guess we’re trapped here. I can’t see why that guide wanted to meet in this place.”

  “He may be a bit unhinged, but I do not believe he’s mad. Not that much anyway. He must have his reasons. Our problem now is to how to prevent access to this part of the bridge. We could try to destroy it,” said Tyndur.

  “Be my guest,” replied Tyler. “We’ve got no choice anyway.”

  The einherjar walked to the foot of the bridge and gripped his staff with both hands. He raised it and after a few seconds, smashed it against the stone flooring. The mage could see the currents of power as the staff struck. In an instant, the red and yellow swirls tore through the stones, opening new cracks and widening existing ones. The bridge collapsed into the ravine in a cloud of dust.

  “I missed doing that kind of thing,” smiled Tyndur as he walked back to Tyler. The mage was again checking on their pursuers. The Aztecah were just behind the ridge they crossed.

  “Impressive,” replied the mage. “But our guests are here. They missed your show.”

  “Hah!” said the einherjar with a chortle. “I am not in a heart-giving mood today.”

  The two took cover behind the wall where Astrid was watching the grassland. The Egyptian priestess had positioned herself on the other side of the road. As they watched, the Aztecah forces spilled into the clearing. Tyler could see the witch in front with Eztli beside her. The pursuers immediately assembled into an arc formation, with the demigoddesses, Eztli, and three others in front. Behind them were around thirty men positioned in front of the arc. The mage estimated the entire force at three thousand.

  The bastard survived! I guess those three others are also champions. And those behind them are their mages or wizards. But with that kind of force, I think the battle back at the settlement is in its last stages.

  He continued to observe the Aztecah. Tyler could see the discipline and efficiency of their warriors. In no time at all, the formation was complete, though he saw some latecomers inserting themselves into the battle group. Then, at an unseen signal, the entire force marched forward, coming to a stop a hundred feet or so from the broken bridge. Tyler started gathering energy and planned out his sequence of magical attacks.

  While observing the Aztecah and trying to determine where to start attacking, he saw the witch put her hands forward. She raised them slowly. A swirling vortex of the familiar green and black energy surrounded the demigoddess. Her figure could barely be seen. Then he saw the witch quickly close the extended arms together above her head. The mage thought he heard a thunderous clap.

  Then to his amazement, stones swiftly rose from the ravine and rebuilt the bridge. It looked better than before. In fact, it was complete and undamaged.

  Tyler was stupefied.

  He had never seen such magic before, much less from a demigoddess. As he watched open-mouthed, Eztli walked forward to the bridge and stopped when he was a few feet from the other abutment.

  “Cualli tonalli! Our greetings, Nahualli Havard!” called out the champion.

  Duck shit. They found me out.

  “Fuck you!” impulsively replied Tyler in English. “And your mother too!”

  “What language is that?” asked Eztli. Then the mage saw a faint glimmer of pulsing energy flow from Yayauhqui to Eztli.

  “Ah! A visitor! We are honored!” cried out the Blood. His voice had changed. A mixture of his original tone and the irritatingly high scratchy intonation the mage had heard before.

  Me and my big mouth. I just made their prey more enticing. With A-1 sauce too.

  “We are surprised by your presence in these lands, Nahualli. We didn’t expect you here so soon. But we are pleased. We have a proposal for you. A full battle would be a waste of your… assets. A challenging fight first, perhaps? One-on-one. Death or captivity.”

  “Told you we were prime candidates,” commented Tyndur. “Not that I like the idea.”

  Eztli turned and walked back. At the same time, one of the three others with them walked forward, apparently intending to proceed to the bridge. The Aztecah seemed to assume that the arrangement would be accepted. But Tyler knew the sense of honor of his companions made it inevitable.

  “Sire! Can I go first?” exclaimed Tyndur. “And I’ll take the rest of them, if you don’t mind.”

  “You’re sure about this?” asked the surprised mage.

  “Of course. I haven’t been in a challenge fight for ages!”

  “What if they capture you?” asked Astrid.

  “Then it would be up to all of you to rescue me,” answered the einherjar.

  Tyler shook his head in resignation. Simple question, simple answer. Now I do believe he attacked the Elders by his lonesome. All that hermit time must have bored him to death.

  “If you really want to, Tyndur.”

  “Of course, I do, sire. This is exciting!” answered the einherjar as he went out of the cover of the wall.

  Grinning, the einherjar walked out to the bridge. The first challenger had already stepped on it to the accompaniment of loud chanting from the Aztecah ranks. He was a big man. He wore a headdress of blue-green feathers adorned with semiprecious stones and shells. A gold band held it in place. It was a blue conical design with the feathers in a transverse arrangement. A dark mask had been painted on his upper face, though a long scar marked his left cheek. Both his arms, with golden bracelets, were also marked with pockets of disfigured skin from healed wounds. A veteran, Tyler noted. He wore a Yahui’s turtle-shell as armor and was armed with a wooden club festooned with irregularly shaped crystal shards. A small red cloak and a yellow loincloth completed his outfit, though a piece of cloth hung in front of the latter.

  Tyndur got to the middle of the bridge first. There he awaited the champion who stopped ten feet away. The newcomer banged his hand on his shell armor.

  “I am Metlatl! The grinding stones! I ground my enemies to dust!” proclaimed the Aztecah champion.

  “Call me Etl,” said Tyndur in reply, holding his staff in his right hand, feet in a ready stance. “Second cousin to the Third over there. Are you sure about that grinding stones nickname? Your tepolli doesn’t hurt?”

  “You’re insolent, chontalli! And what kind of name is ‘beans’?” shouted the champion.

  Tyler forced back a laugh. Tyndur was baiting the champion. He was trying to force a rash action from his opponent. The mage heard Astrid snicker.

  “It means I am the foul wind which will blow your ground tepolli away!” shouted Tyndur in repl
y.

  The champion seemed sufficiently irked as a bolas appeared in his left hand and he flung it in the direction of Tyndur’s legs. The mage could see the weapon was not sufficiently prepared. It lacked the momentum swirling it beforehand could have imparted. After throwing the bolas, the champion charged Tyndur. The einherjar merely put his staff forward, entangling the bolas, and then leapt. Tyler was amazed. He didn’t think the large man could jump so high from a standing position.

  As Tyndur jumped, he brought the staff around in a half circle with both hands, the bolas sliding off the rod as he executed the movement. The champion’s charge brought him exactly where the einherjar wanted him to be, for as Tyndur dropped down from his leap, the staff was already raised. The einherjar then smashed it against the champion’s head. Tyler could see the momentary resistance a shield gave the blow but to no avail. The smashing staff, enough to break a stone bridge some minutes before, cracked Metlatl’s skull. The mage could hear the sickening splintering sound as the champion’s cranium split. The weapon went past the bone and crushed the inside of the head. It was a gory sight. Blood and brain fragments flew through the air. The einherjar straightway jumped back. Though his staff was bloodied, it surprised Tyler to see that Tyndur escaped having blood and gore on his armor.

  It was over in a few seconds. The body of the champion was still standing as Tyndur leapt back. Metlatl’s corpse fell heavily to the stone pavement of the bridge.

  Tyler watched the Aztecah lines for any reaction. Their ranks were silent. Then another champion walked to the bridge. The mage looked carefully at the approaching figure. In contrast to the gaudy ornaments and body size of Metlatl, the approaching warrior was smaller and appeared to have a lithe figure. All he wore was a similar loincloth, a gold-colored quilted vest, and two golden bracers. Two long crystal blades completed his warrior’s attire.

  Obsidian. Magically treated, though Tyler. He could see the wisps of magic flowing around the sharp daggers and thought about the champion’s appearance. Shit. A fast mover. Tyndur will find it difficult to deal with this one.