“What you heard was nothing more than tall tales,” Am-Shee begun. “The first staff was powerful beyond belief. It was forged in the time of the awakening by all the arch mages of Kesh before there was a High Mage.”
“What happened?” Kador asked, tilting his head slightly and also stroking his short beard mimicking his master.
“One arch mage took it and killed the others. All but three.”
“The triumvirate,” Kador said in reverence.
“Most astute of you,” Am-Shee praised his newly promoted wizard. “We must find the Staff of Alore and use it to overthrow the imposter. Only this staff will allow us to defeat him.”
“He is too powerful then?”
“He is actually of mediocre power and ability, however, his new found relic of the dragons has enhanced his talent to the point of being beyond even a true arch mage.” Am-Shee turned and walked back to his chair taking a seat while Kador walked with him but remained standing.
“You are the last of the mages, Master,” Kador correctly pointed out.
Am-Shee nodded, “Yes, Am-Ohkre has perished at the hands of the Arnen while Am-Sultain fell at the new found power of the imposter.”
“There should have been a third,” Kador prompted, wondering where the third mage was during the recent times of upheaval.
“That would have been Am-Sunsi,” the mage said wistfully. “You did not know him, but he was a great mage, powerful and wise. He led the raids on Ulatha years ago venturing even into the haunted Earlstyne Forest.”
“What happened to him?”
“No one knows for sure. He insisted on returning to Ulatha in search of the mysteries of the haunted forest. He never returned. I venture he came across the same fate as Am-Ohkre having met the Arnen and perished in battle most likely.”
“Impossible,” Kador scoffed, shifting his weight to his supported foot near his staff. “I find it hard to believe a mere druid could defeat a wizard much less an arch mage.”
“I see that your studies have left you wanting for context,” Am-Shee shook his head wondering if his earlier assessment was a tad bit too optimistic. “The Arnen were supposed to be extinct, the last one having passed during the Great Dragon War a thousand years ago. It appears that the tales of their demise was slightly incorrect. At least one of them has survived and made his abode within the Earlstyne.”
“How is that possible?” Kador asked.
“The same way the dragons exist. They sleep.”
Kador nodded in understanding, “This art is not lost to us, either.”
“Correct again,” Am-Shee said. “Though it is much more difficult for an ambitious Kesh to do than say a servant of the Mother.”
“Or a draconus,” Kador added.
“Exactly,” Am-Shee said.
“So back to my question, how could a druid defeat one of your power?”
The mage sat back and looked pensively at his former pupil. “That was part of your lack of training. The Arnen were powerful, equal to an arch mage easily, and the ones from a thousand years ago were much more proficient in the arcane than we are today.”
“I do not believe it,” Kador said, his brows lifting, exposing the whites of his eyes in disbelief.
“Choose as you wish, but I speak the truth. An arch mage of a thousand years ago and one of the Arnen would be evenly matched.” Am-Shee leaned forward dropping his hands to his knees and peering intently at his companion.
“If I may be so bold,” Kador began, “but what would you consider your powers to be now compared to then?”
“I am sure we are somewhere stronger than a wizard but only a fraction of the shadow cast by a true Kesh mage,” Am-Shee said, tilting his head up and looking with a far away expression as if remembering something he had learned long ago.
Kador sucked in a breath of air and stuttered with a look of confusion on his face, “I do not understand, Master.”
Am-Shee lowered his gaze and saw the misperception on the man’s face and then he laughed. When had finished he smiled at the man and said, “You served with Alister, did you not?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Well, that explains much. You have the only true understanding of our order insomuch as we are prideful, arrogant, and ambitious, ruthlessly ambitious. To hear me speak in terms of self-depreciation, with a modicum of humility, would be confusing to any within our order or those who deal with us as Kesh wizards.”
Kador nodded, “I admit, it is unusual to see you in such a state.”
“There is no shame in humility. No shame in knowing one’s limitations, weaknesses, and flaws. There is only strength when able to adapt and alter one’s behavior in the pursuit of success, especially in our order. Do you understand?”
“I think so, Master.”
“What I am saying is that it is to my advantage to have humility where the imposter has only hubris. This is his weakness and will be his downfall.”
“But how, Master?”
“He thinks he is unassailable in the Onyx Tower. He will stay there until it is too late and then once confronted with someone of equal or greater stature, he will fall. It is inevitable.” Am-Shee folded his arms and smiled contently.
“Who can confront him? Who can be his equal now if not his superior?” Kador looked fearful.
Am-Shee nodded in approval then spoke, “One of us with the first staff of power, the Staff of Alore.”
“I see you managed to keep your staff this time,” Zorcross said from his mount as the pair of magic-users rode side by side along the ancient trade route that led across Kesh to Ulatha. They were nearing the very same spot where they were ambushed only a few days earlier.
“You pain me, Master,” Hermes said, gripping his staff tighter. “Did the High Mage accept your… your uhm… explanation?”
“You wanted to say excuse, did you not?” Zorcross eyes widened.
Hermes shook his head, “Of course not, Master. I simply do not see the High Mage as being very, well shall we say, forgiving in most matters.”
“It was not our fault that yet another undead army attacked us,” Zorcross said, resuming his gaze to the front.
“The High Mage will not care where the fault lies,” Hermes said. “He can be most… punishing.”
“Do not attempt to scare me with your stories since you were punished for your incompetence. Had I been in Ulatha proper I would have ensured the undead were properly defeated and that Korwell remained under Kesh control.”
“With all due respect, Master, the undead were led by the most evil, the most vile, and the most corrupt undead creature that I have ever seen. Even the fierce Northmen were defeated by its power.”
“Yes, yes, we all know of this lich creature that you refer to. One from legends, but no need to make further excuses. I now have an army with which to defeat the creature and its walking dead. They will bother us no more before a week has gone by.” Zorcross allowed a smile of content to show across his countenance, though his gaze was on the road ahead.
Hermes could only shake his head at the pride of his superior. It reminded him of the High Mage, though with less power and strength. He didn’t verbalize it, but he was most interested in seeing what an encounter would look like between his master and the lich. Instead he asked, “When may I travel north?”
“I would have allowed you to take the north road and travel from Ulsthor across the northern mountains till you reached the Dragon Lands and found the clans we seek. However, we must first secure Ulatha and then you can travel using their northern road only more west of ours.”
“The one that leads past the deserted mountain town?”
Zorcross took a moment to look at his second-in-command and asked, “You are not afraid of that place now, are you?”
“Of course not, Master, though the tales I have heard do give one pause as to what lurks there.”
“Nonsense,” Zorcross said, disdain in his voice. “Focus on the task at hand and then we shall set
you upon your task.”
“I thought the High Mage would have wanted the Northmen to be with us first before assaulting Korwell and Ulatha,” Hermes asked, a tinge of confusion in his voice.
“The High Mage is very busy, and he does not have time to oversee every aspect of our campaign. Trust me that we shall take Ulatha back first then the Northmen will be, shall we say, icing on the cake.”
“If you say so, Master, though I do know what awaits us and while this army is much larger and grander than what I commanded in Ulatha, I am not as optimistic as you.”
“Hork, come up here,” Zorcross yelled behind his shoulder.
The Kesh commander spurred his horse and rode quickly to come astride Zorcross putting the chief wizard in between himself and Hermes. “You call, Master?”
“Yes,” Zorcross said. “What do you think of this army? We shall prevail in Ulatha shall we not?”
Hork looked behind him then at Hermes who shrugged not knowing what or why his Master was engaging with the military commander. Hork cleared his throat and asked, “You want an honest answer, Master?”
Zorcross didn’t stop, but he looked to his right and gave the man an odd expression, “What kind of question is that? Of course, I expect an honest answer.”
Hork didn’t hesitate, “I agree with Master Hermes. We are not strong enough to retake Ulatha.”
Zorcross pulled back on his reins and came to a stop. Though it wasn’t ordered, this forced the lead elements of the military column to stop as well and it would take a half minute before the entire procession came to a complete halt behind them. Turning to look at Hork, Zorcross asked, “Are you out of your mind?”
Hork shook his head, “No, Master. I speak truthfully.”
“Then why in the nine hells did you not say something earlier?” Zorcross asked.
“You didn’t ask,” Hork said.
Zorcross fumed, “So you and this dolt,” he then motioned over his shoulder where Hermes sat on his steed waiting patiently behind him, “were content to let me ride to Ulatha and be defeated? Do I understand your plan correctly?”
Hork shook his head but said nothing while Hermes spurred his horse to ride up alongside Hork and allow eye contact between himself and his Master. “You misunderstand, Master. Hork and I tried to warn the High Mage, but he was adamant that this new Balarian army would be sufficient. We tried, honestly we did.”
“Obviously you didn’t try hard enough,” Zorcross stated. Then looking at Hork he narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean you agree with Hermes here? Were you eavesdropping?”
Hork shrugged it off, “You spoke loudly, he more so than you, Master. It was difficult not to hear you.”
Zorcross nodded slightly then looked at their army and the turned his head to see the Ulathan Pass in the near distance. Having made mental calculations, he declared, “Fine, we will take the pass and hold it while requesting reinforcements for the Ulatha assault.”
Hermes started to beam from ear to ear, even trying to clap while one hand held his staff. “A most excellent idea, Master.” Then just as quickly his demeanor changed, “What additional reinforcements could we possibly obtain?”
Zorcross narrowed his eyes, “You get those barbarian clans and you do it now.”
Chapter 11
Crypt
“Well here they come,” Horace said shifting his weight slightly and absentmindedly swinging his crossbow.
Dareen looked below and saw the Kesh army come to a stop a good league or two distant. They had retreated after Core and Melissa had led the undead into their rear lines. They all considered it a brilliant stroke of luck and even Elister seemed most pleased with how events had played out. Others, not so much.
“They will not retreat this time,” Dorsun stated.
“How can you be so sure?” Mary asked.
The four companions had left their position for a couple of days atop the Ulathan Pass, but now they had returned and kept watch. Elister and Tyra had dispatched over two hundred undead that had ventured into the forest. The dragon’s breath weapon was useless against them, but its claws and razor-sharp fangs ripped them to shreds by the dozens. Elister could also be efficient and laying the undead to a more permanent rest by using nature against them.
“It is difficult to make out, but the two lead figures are wizards,” Dorsun said.
The group raised hands to shield their eyes from the sun which was overhead but slightly east making it difficult to see them. The last time the Kesh were here it was late afternoon. They seemed to have traveled further, faster. Mary spoke first, “I see three figures.”
Dorsun squinted his eyes and then said, “The third just rode up. That would be a commander or a chieftain.”
“What’s the difference?” Dareen asked.
“You mean in a military leadership role?” Dorsun asked back.
Dareen nodded, “Khan always referred to you as a chieftain while at other times recounting stories and speaking of commanders.”
“Chieftains come from villages, or towns where they are the ranking military member. Commanders can be anyone from anywhere,” Dorsun explained. “Both can and do lead Kesh military units, so it can be hard to distinguish between us.”
Mary said, “That’s interesting and something I didn’t know.”
“What’s it matter?” Horace said, not to worried about manners or tact away from his wife and Agatha’s sharp tongue. “They are all killers, present company excluded of course.”
Dorsun sighed and gave the standard response, “Of course.”
Dareen seemed to notice and addressed the Kesh man directly, “Dorsun, I heard what you did for Mary and my daughter so accept my gratitude for that. Regardless of your rank, your insight here is most helpful.”
“It is?”
“Yes,” Elister is wise to have requested you here instead of with the questing party. He understands the need for someone with a military mind and understanding of what we’re up against.”
“I understand,” Dorsun said, a faint wisp of a smile coming across this normally dour face.
“Good,” Dareen said, then asking him more bluntly, “What do you think they are doing or will do? I mean from a military perspective will they attack the pass?”
Dorsun nodded, “For sure they will. That army is like nothing I’ve seen before. They look to be Balarian regulars from their dress, stature and demeanor.”
“What is a Blarin reglar?” Horace asked.
Doreen corrected the man, “A Balarian regular is…”
Dorsun saw Dareen looking at him and understood, “They are a cross between mercenary soldiers, all professional and a most proficient scouting unit consisting of thieves and cutthroats. They most likely have scouts in Ulatha even now.”
“They didn’t seem to know ol Core and Marissa were coming at em,” Horace said with a chuckle.
“They are handicapped by our leadership,” Dorsun answered, now lost in thought.
“Can you elaborate?” Dareen asked.
“You mean tell you more?” Dorsun asked.
“Yes,” Dareen said.
“Well,” Dorsun began, “I was a chieftain but not a commander. I lead most of a brigade at one time and it’s been my experience that even though my superiors, my military superiors,” Dorsun made a very distinct separation by emphasizing the word, “wanted to perform certain actions, they were often times overridden by the wizard masters of our realm.”
Dareen nodded, “To the point that sound advice was not always welcome and certainly not always appreciated.”
“Exactly,” Dorsun snapped his fingers at her. “My master now is wise, he understands this more than the other wizards and he is not so… not so…”
“Haughty?” Mary asked.
“I guess so,” Dorsun responded. “He puts away his pride and listens to those around him, even those of lesser position.”
“I suppose this is rare for a wizard?” Dareen asked.
“I onl
y knew of this trait in one other,” Dorsun said, then seeing their expectant faces he named the man, “Master Am-Shee, an arch mage of Kesh.”
“Where is this arch mage now?” Mary asked, peering intently at the former Kesh leader.
“I don’t know,” Dorsun said, “Though he led the raid on the Black Tower the night you were freed.”
Dorsun had looked directly at Dareen and she responded, “I know. Elister informed me that part of that raid may have succeeded except for the timing and the fact that we distracted them.”
“Bah,” Horace said. “Stupid if you ask me. Who cares if one mage is overthrown and replaced by another? Look at what that got us when that dratted wizard master of Khan’s took over from the last High Mage. I see no difference.”
The group stood in silence and were thoughtful at the old man’s words. They were finally taken out of their thoughts at the sound of beating wings as Tyra flew in behind them and crouched low behind the pass itself, so it was out of sight to anyone looking from the east. Dorsun looked at the beast only fifty yards away and said, “I still don’t believe it.”
Horace added, “And I’ll never get over its size till the day I die.”
Mary made a sign of warding and said, “May that day never come.”
Horace smiled at her then responded, “You are too kind, my dear.”
Doreen made a comment that was also pessimistic, “Despite its size, I don’t see how four of us and a dragon will keep that army at bay. They can march right back into our homeland whenever they want to.”
“Not to mention your druid fellow can’t come up here and fight for us,” Mary noted.
“Why can’t he?” Horace asked looking at Dareen.
Dareen shrugged, “You’ll have to ask him, but I think the pass it outside the forest and he can’t leave the Blackthorn.”
“Pretty damn close if you ask me,” Horace said, turning to look west at the tree line past the green dragon that was lounging and waiting. The edge of the forest was not more than a few hundred yards away on the southern side of the trade road. No trees grew on the north side for some reason.
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