As they marched, Darius studied the roiling magic around him, easily identified as the foul work of sorcery. Darius had expected them to have a magician with them, but the sheer magnitude of power he felt indicated several.
“Impossible! The enemy would not dare risk so many at once.”
Darius’s eyes narrowed as he tried to think of an explanation.
The outpouring of power faded and died, vanishing completely. Darius liked the situation less and less. He scoured the currents for some clue of the enemies' actions or intentions, some discernible pattern.
Finally the Gryphons reached the edge of a clearing – but this clearing had been made recently, and violent had been its creation. It was a massive patch of ash. The center of it was nearly ten paces from the edge, and the devastation radiated outward in a perfect circle. No tree was left standing, not even stumps. The ground was scorched earth, perfectly smooth and almost glassy in some areas where the heat from whatever hellish forces had been let loose had fused the minerals of the dirt.
“Choirs defend us…” Darius muttered, stepping out onto the devastated landscape, ash rising in a low cloud as his boot disturbed it. Realizing that the enemy had somehow escaped him, he opened himself up more fully to the currents of power.
Robert came to stand beside him, sword drawn and ready.
“Where did they go?” Robert asked, daring a question even while his commander was concentrating.
“There is nothing left. Nothing at all,” Darius whispered.
Robert nodded. “No sign that there were trees here in the first place, much less a forest.”
After some moments, Darius’s eyes focused on his second in command. “No, not trees Robert. Magic. There’s no trace of it here.”
“No magic?”
Darius shook his head. “I mean, there is nothing that shouldn’t be here. It’s as if this ash was always here...”
Darius trailed off, mind spinning with the complexities of the problem. Robert waited patiently for him to continue the explanation, waving approaching men back into a guard pattern.
Running a hand through his hair, Darius turned again to Robert, urgency in his eyes.
“We must return to Bastion at once.”
Chapter Two
“He has gone too far this time!”
The words rang out through the spacious council chamber, echoing off the vaulted ceiling.
“Darius defies this council and endangers the War! He must be dealt with accordingly!”
Arric stood with his hands palm down on the table, leaning on it as if for support. At his back the tall stone seat of the council leader rose in majesty to remind all of his position.
“Darius was specifically ordered to report to Fortress Nebeth, but instead runs off into the forest! What explanation does he give us? He ‘detected something wrong!’ Now the garrison is under strength! We cannot tolerate this behavior!”
The gathered wizards nodded along with Arric’s outraged statements, and a chorus of assent was heard – though it lacked the conviction of Arric's own tirade.
One man called out from the edges of the room, a young wizard known to be one of Darius’s supporters. “Darius must have had reason!”
As Arric’s cold, piercing gaze turned to him, the young man stood his ground, glaring back defiantly.
“Do you think him infallible, Alain? He makes as many mistakes as any man – some would say more.”
The younger wizard swallowed uneasily, but held his glare in place. “Only you call them mistakes, Arric. Darius does what is needed – he just doesn't always do it at the leisure of the High Council.”
Arric nodded slowly, letting his cool gaze work under the young man's wizard's calm. “He does what is needed? Have you already forgotten the battle of Lafken Hill? Darius and his Gryphons were a crucial element there – as Darius had insisted. When the time came for his attack, what did he do, Alain?”
Alain did not speak, and Arric answered his own question smugly. “Precisely. He did nothing. He dithered, and the entire battle was lost. He gave us an excuse about countering some new spell – a new spell we have never seen used again.”
Before Alain could answer, another man spoke. His voice was gravelly and calm, but all the chamber fell silent before it.
“Do you accuse Darius of lying to this council, Arric?”
All eyes turned towards the speaker seated at the end of the council table. His robes were as white as the hair on his face and head. He did not stand, but spoke from his seat.
Arric’s response was carefully respectful. “Lying? Of course not, Lazarus, but perhaps he would go so far as to blur certain details.”
Lazarus cocked his head to the side. “To what end, Arric?”
Again, Arric thought for a moment before responding. “To conceal the fact that he was too concerned with his own safety to do his duty as a commander, and attack as per our plan. A plan you helped formulate, I might add,” Arric added.
A smile tugged at the corners of Lazarus’s mouth. “I remember quite well, thank you. You say that Darius was concerned for his own safety… do you call him a coward?”
Arric shook his head. “I said nothing of cowardice.”
“If not cowardice, certainly there was no mention of bravery. Yet, many here can recall the battle of Uldoss pass, when Darius attacked a Demon. Alone. Only the timely arrival of the Angels saved him from certain death that day. This is not the action of a man concerned with his own safety.”
“Every man has his day,” Arric replied.
Lazarus nodded. “We both know that I could recount many such acts. I daresay that Darius is the most selfless and courageous person I’ve ever known, outside the ranks of the Angels themselves.”
“Courage and cowardice are not the issue here!” Arric exclaimed. “We could sit here for a week and a day extolling the man's virtues, but the fact is that he ignores orders as often as he obeys them. We cannot allow a commander to act outside the authority of this council. Darius must be brought to task.”
Arric turned once again to the older wizard. “Lazarus, we both know that you opposed Darius’s decision to organize the Gryphons. Both of us thought a wizard should not be so involved with the army. Perhaps he has had some successes, yes – but who is to say that a wizard of his talent would not be doing greater good in a more traditional role?”
When Lazarus did not seem about to speak, Arric once more addressed the assemblage. “I propose that the council relieve Darius of his command, effective immediately. Another able commander will be placed in charge of his men,” Arric said, and glanced to where Alain stood at the edges of the chamber. “Darius will return to Bastion as an active member of the council. I do not wish to throw him in prison. He is a wizard of no mean ability, no one denies this – but his place is here or in what battles we put him.”
Alain looked about himself at the rest of Darius's supporters. Though they were not happy to have any decision forced upon their adopted idol, none were brave enough to oppose Arric further without Darius there to defend himself.
Until Lazarus spoke.
“Arric, surely you must admit that Darius has done much good. Since he formed the Gryphons, we have successfully held more land than ever before, and confined the minions of Pyre to a smaller realm than ever before. Darius and his Gryphons were present at most of the important battles -”
“As were many other wizards, Lazarus, and thousands of other soldiers. It can hardly be said that he was the deciding factor in any of them,” Arric broke in.
Holding up a hand to forestall any more interruptions, Lazarus continued. “It is also true that he has stopped more raids, prevented more surprise attacks, and rooted out more enemy plans than any traditional commander. Furthermore, his presence is encouraging to the troops. They feel safer with a wizard in such an active role within the army. I must admit,” he gave a raspy chuckle, “I have been reconsidering my arguments against Darius’s command.”
Lazarus’s eyes, until now half-lidded in feigned weariness, unveiled in all their intensity, and locked with Arric’s. “I counter-propose that we make no decision until we hear Darius’s side of the story. Let us recall him immediately to Bastion. We have evidence of his sound motives in the past, and I believe that it will prove no less in this incident.”
Arric raised an eyebrow. “And Fortress Nebeth?”
“Ah, yes – the fortress. Due to the valiant efforts of our soldiers, Nebeth no longer lies directly on the border, and is not in immediate danger of attack.” Lazarus smiled. “I took the liberty of consulting with our senior generals on this matter – they agree that the fortress is secure without reinforcement.”
Cocking his head to the side once more, Lazarus added, “To speak plainly, Arric, I was never sure why you wanted him sent there in the first place.”
In the end, Lazarus’s proposal – in effect, to do nothing until Darius returned – was voted most favorable. As the council dissolved, each wizard returning to his own business, Lazarus stood and glanced towards the council leader’s seat. Arric stood there, regarding him. There was no malice in his eyes, merely contemplation.
With a bow, Lazarus departed the chamber.
Arric watched him go. The man’s movements were spry despite his age – but then, wizards rarely succumbed to the effects of aging until their final years. Lazarus had already lived longer than most men would. He was a wizard, and wizards were different.
“Do you think he defies you?” said a voice from behind him.
Arric turned to face his main ally in the council, a tall, stern wizard by the name of Callos, from the northern plains.
“Defies me? I am no barbarian chieftain… this is a council. To disagree with me is hardly defiance.”
“You have felt very strongly on this matter for some time. Perhaps you ought to push them harder to comply with your views.”
Arric waved off the suggestion with a flick of his hand. “Nonsense. We both know that my position is more one of mediation than actual authority. It has always been so – I will not be the one to change it.”
“What are you two muttering about?” asked another voice. As one, Callos and Arric turned to see that another wizard had joined them.
“Venting more steam over Darius?” the newcomer, Geralt, guessed.
With a sigh, Arric nodded, and Geralt chuckled in response.
“You shouldn't let him get to you so easily, dear leader. It isn't healthy.”
Callos looked with some annoyance at the intruder and answered for Arric. “You've never had to give the man orders.”
Geralt chuckled again, but did not reply.
“Did you want something?” Arric asked.
“Oh, yes. It seems to me that you left something out about Darius's message.”
Arric peered at Geralt. “How did you know?”
Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I was in charge of the globes when his message came through. I'm the one who ordered you notified. I'm also the one who thinks you should have told the Council the entire message.”
“The message came by globe?” Callos asked. “From the field?”
“Yes. And no wonder. Darius's words – his exact words – were 'Something is wrong. I've detected signs of raiders on the road to Nebeth. I will pursue them.'”
“'Raiders on the road to Nebeth!'” Arric scoffed. “It's absurd! The Enemy has not been beyond the fortress in years. Darius must have been mistaken, and gone chasing after nothing.”
Geralt speared the council leader with a skeptical look. “Darius is many things, Arric, but he is no fool – and there is not one wizard in Bastion with more experience afield. If Darius says raiders have penetrated past Nebeth, we should trust his word. Have there been any other reports of deep raids?”
“No, nothing. The entire border has been quiet for months.”
Geralt shrugged. “You are the Council Leader, and I defer to your judgment – but Darius obviously felt the message was urgent, or he would have sent it by runner instead of globe.”
With that, Geralt left them. His limping gait – the result of an accident in his youth, an injury the Angels were not around to Heal – took him slowly out of earshot.
Callos’s eyebrows twitched. “Do you think Darius may need help?”
Arric shook his head. “Even if he did, I have no way of sending it to him. I have no idea as to his location, or his destination. I must hope that he can handle whatever it is he chased off after.” The frustration Arric felt had begun to bleed into his voice.
Callos laid a calming hand on Arric’ shoulder. “Darius will return. We shall deal with him then.”
Nodding, Arric chuckled ruefully. “At times I feel like a parent worried for an errant child. It’s easy to forget that Darius is as experienced as any of us.”
“Darius has not changed since we were acolytes. He is as rash as ever.”
***
“Most of them never learn to act,” Darius said around his mouthful of salted pork. “We are always told to think clearly; to be sure that we are taking the correct course of action. The lesson sank so far into most of them that they are afraid to take any action much of the time.”
Robert nodded, but said nothing, as he was far too busy chewing.
Darius gestured in the general direction of Bastion with a piece of hard bread. “They don’t realize that sometimes inaction is the worst path of all.” Bending once more to his rations, he went on. “At least, most of them don’t realize it.”
Robert raised an eyebrow.
“I’m getting through to some of the others,” Darius continued. “I’ve won over a number of them with the success of the Gryphons. Enough so that I will be able to continue my work without the council's interference.”
Robert finished picking a bit of gristle out of his teeth, and finally spoke. “Address the council again? After this they must realize how important it is to have wizards in the field.”
Chuckling, Darius shook his head. “Oh, they’ve a gift for ignoring the evidence placed before them. Besides,” Darius sighed. “I do not have the patience to campaign for their support anymore.”
“If they dissolve the Gryphons, a great deal of talent will be wasted. These men work well together, Darius. We can’t let that happen.”
Darius barely heard this last remark. His eye was drawn to a point in the night sky, over Robert's shoulder.
“Whatever the council may do, we have other things to think about at the moment.” Smiling, Darius pointed.
Looking over his shoulder, Robert’s eyes were drawn to a shooting star which burned with amazing brilliance. Blue and white fire trailed in its wake, and the sight of it filled them with a quiet, peaceful joy.
Standing, Robert and Darius waited as the incandescence hurtled towards them. As it approached, fatigue evaporated from their muscles and the aches and pains associated with a day’s hard march burned away like the mist before the sunrise.
The star smote the ground not fifty paces from where they stood, near a copse of trees that marred the otherwise expansive plains. It sent up a plume of glittering sparks and white fire - though illuminated, the trees were not burned.
The figure that strode towards them was large. It stood half again as tall as a man, and was dressed from head to foot in shimmering blue robes that caught and held the moonlight in curious ways. Its face was completely hidden by the hood of its robe – only a soft glow emanated from within the shroud. The cuffs and collar of the robe were of silver cloth and were covered in enigmatic symbols, as was the belt that circled the waist. From a belt of corded silver hung a heavy sword in a sheath of gold and silver.
Then there were the wings. More beautiful than the full moon over the mountains they rose from behind the figure. They were composed of innumerable distinct glowing threads, gossamer thin and ever-moving – and they shone with the same light that came from beneath the hood, brilliant in the darkness.
Darius and Robert strode
towards the Angel just as it moved towards them. It seemed to shrink as it approached them, until it stood only slightly taller than Robert. When they reached each other, the Angel inclined its covered head to both the men, who bowed in turn.
“Darius. Robert.” The Angel addressed them both. The strong, deep voice rumbled pleasantly in their ears. “I trust you and your men are well?”
Darius folded his arms with a smile. “Well enough. How fares the War today, Aethel?”
Removing its hands from where they had been tucked across its chest in each sleeve, the Angel spread its arms as if to indicate the whole world. “The War continues as it always has.” Aethel tucked his hands back into his sleeves. “How went your mission?”
Darius sighed, and knew the Angel meant his chase after the enemy – not the intended reinforcement of a fortress on the front lines. “We did not catch our quarry, Aethel. They -" Darius huffed in aggravation, as if speaking it aloud would make it more true. "- vanished.”
“Vanished?”
Nodding, Darius quickly explained the events of the last couple of days. “When we reached what should have been their campsite – nothing was there. Not even the forest. The trees, the grass, everything had been burned away. And…” Darius took a single breath before finishing. “And there wasn’t a single trace of what they’d done. No lingering magic. Nothing.”
“Some new sorcery.”
Darius nodded again. “No doubt linked to what got them behind our lines in the first place. I’m returning to Bastion to report on what I’ve found.”
“Returning to Bastion. Good.”
Wrinkling his brow, Darius asked, “Bad news from Bastion?”
“I would call it a prudent warning,” the Angel said, coming as close as he ever did to making a joke. “Make haste back to Bastion, Darius. Perhaps what you’ve discovered will cool them.”
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