Into Vushaar
Robert M. Kerns
Knightsfall Press
Copyright © 2019 by Robert M. Kerns
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means--electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise--without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any place or person (living, dead, or incorporeal entity) is unintended and purely coincidental.
Published by Knightsfall Press
PO Box 280
Mineral Wells, WV 26150
https://www.knightsfallpress.com
About This Book
Help his friend go home.
Just because Gavin's goal is simple, doesn't mean it's easy!
His friend's home is Vushaar, the world's oldest monarchy and a land fractured by civil war. Slaver parties roam the countryside at will, claiming any they desire for their vile trade, and a great army lays siege to the capital.
Many question if Vushaar will survive, so what does that mean for Gavin and his friends?
Ties of friendship from two directions compel Gavin to enter this war-torn land, but will he succeed in returning his friend home safe and sound?
Read Now to find out!
Chapter 1
The Vischaene River rocked the ferry’s hull against the algae- and moss-covered stones of the quay. The ferry’s stop was so abrupt, a few travelers lost their footing. Gavin, however, flexed his legs and moved with the ferry’s motion, catching Kiri before she could begin her own close-up inspection of the deck.
Down through the years, a small settlement grew up around the eastern ferry landing, but an inn with stables and a general store were the extent of its day-to-day highlights. The primary population for the settlement was the ferry-masters' families and the inn’s staff, along with any travelers who arrived after the ferry shut down for the night.
The general store looked much like any storefront Gavin had seen in the city. Large windows allowed passers-by to examine the shop’s goods, while the building’s aura of Conjuration made Gavin suspect the merchant didn’t rely on oil lamps. The shop’s windows were clean enough for Gavin to see two small children at the shelves of candy jars, and he smiled as he watched the older merchant dole out some of the treasured goods. As Gavin watched the children receive their treasure, a memory of his daughter floated to the forefront of his mind, and he smiled. The memory brought with it an almost overwhelming urge to pull his daughter into a big hug and tell her how special she was, and Gavin took a deep breath, letting it out as a slow shuddering sigh and turning away from the store.
The inn was a three-story structure and looked to be in rather good repair, fresh tiles on the roof and well-tended flowers in planters on either side of the door. A plaque hung from an iron rod attached to the portico overhanging the door: The Travelers’ Rest.
“Do we have any reason to stop?” Gavin asked, his eyes meeting each of his companions in turn.
“I don’t think so,” Declan said. “Hakamri did us proud. I doubt we need anything they’d have here.”
“Then, let’s press on,” Gavin said.
Near the river, smooth grasslands abounded. As they traveled away from the river, though, the grasslands transitioned to the rolling fields and minor hills that would give way to the Godswall Mountains looming in the distance. It was a pleasant day for travel, with a slight breeze blowing inland from the Inner Sea, carrying with it a hint of the salty sea air.
Within minutes of leaving the small settlement surrounding the ferry landing, Declan handed his reins to Braden—who rode just ahead of him and to his left—and retrieved his lute. Soon thereafter, they traveled to the accompaniment of a pleasant melody Declan strummed and picked out of his instrument.
“Gavin,” Mariana asked as she nudged her horse to ride to the left of Gavin’s Jasmine, “I’d like to ask you something.”
Gavin chuckled. “Mariana, ask away. You don’t need to give me fair warning; we’re all friends here.”
“It strikes me as a little odd we’re going to Vushaar overland. There’s just a narrow strip of land that is Tel’s territory to the Vushaari border, and it’s almost hit-or-miss whether the Dracons respect it. Besides, I’d think a ship would be faster.”
“I considered a ship, Mariana, but out there on the ocean, we have nowhere to go. We have no way to maneuver if the need arises. I feel safer—even with the threat of the Dracons—having land where I can run, ambush, or whatever we need to do. I feel traveling by land gives us options, whereas sea travel takes away options.”
“And you didn’t want to force a ship on Kiri,” Mariana said, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned close to Gavin.
Gavin glanced over his shoulder to where Lillian and Kiri rode side by side, talking and laughing, and he smiled. Then, he turned back to Mariana and shook his head, saying, “No…I couldn’t force that on her. I suppose I should’ve given her the choice, but I was afraid she’d say yes when she didn’t want to, thinking it’s what I wanted.”
Just then, the group crested a small knoll, and the sight in the small valley below caused Gavin to rein in Jasmine to a halt, as he lifted his hand to signal the same. Five people on horses clustered around two others—also mounted. The two people who were the center of attention, though, appeared to have their hands tied behind their backs, and Gavin’s eyes were just good enough to make out ropes running down from overhead branches to their necks.
“This doesn’t look good,” Gavin said.
“Look at their elbows,” Mariana said. “Those strips of cloth fluttering in the wind are the king’s colors. Those men feel they’re acting with the full knowledge and consent of the King of Tel.”
“Not today,” Gavin said, his voice slipping into the slightly deeper, resolute tone those present associated with ‘Kirloth.’
Gavin leaned forward and brushed the side of Jasmine’s neck with his hand, saying, “Let’s go, girl.” He didn’t even nudge Jasmine with his heels; the mare took off at a spirited trot that soon became a canter.
Mariana and Lillian looked at one another for a moment before they and Kiri nudged their mounts with their heels. Soon, they were cantering in Gavin’s wake, with Braden, Wynn, and Declan close behind. The pack-mules could wait for them at the crest of the knoll, and it wasn’t long before they were a bit off the path grazing in the untamed grass.
“What seems to be the trouble here?” Gavin said as he arrived at the edge of the people gathered around the tree. He was now close enough to see the two in the center were elves, one male and one female.
“The only trouble here is you and yours coming in on our bounty,” the man closest Gavin said, turning to face the new arrivals. “We caught these ourselves fair and square.”
“Bounty?” Gavin asked. “What bounty?”
“What rock have you been under, boy? The king offers a bounty in gold for every elf ear found in Tel. Now, shove off; these two are ours.”
“About that…” Gavin said, “…you see, I don’t approve of the King’s new idea for revenue. There’ll be no bounty here, today.”
“And just who do you think you are to tell us what to do? We have more fighters than you.”
Gavin focused his mind on his intent and invoked a Word of Transmutation, “Rhyskaal.” The slight tightening around his eyes and the sudden tension in his jaw was the only indication of the pain he suppressed. The ropes around the elves’ necks and wrists fell away as they turned to dust. Both Elves’ eyes widened just a bit as they gazed at Gavin.
“You’ve got yerself a pair, haven’t you? We’ll kill you for this,” one man said
, his voice almost a snarl. He and his fellows all rounded on Gavin and his people, who were now in a rough line stretching out behind Gavin.
“Oh…forgive me,” Gavin said, reaching into the neck of his tunic. “It appears I failed to introduce myself.”
Gavin grasped a silver chain and withdrew a wizard’s medallion. He released the chain and allowed the medallion to fall against his sternum. The silver wizard’s medallion, the Glyph of Kirloth in its recessed center, gleamed in the late afternoon sun.
The five men paled almost as one, their eyes locked on the glyph. Beads of sweat broke out on their foreheads, and they gripped their reins so tightly their knuckles turned white.
“Now, what of the King’s bounty?” Gavin asked, looking the center man right in his eyes.
The man’s jaw worked as if he were about to speak, but no sound came. At last, he took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “W-w-what b-b-bounty?”
“That’s right,” Gavin said, nodding his head in a soft approval. “Now, get out of here.”
“Thank you, milord,” the man said, his voice almost a whimper. He motioned to his fellows as he nudged his horse into motion. Soon, those five crested a knoll to the north and were gone.
Once the men were out of sight, Gavin lifted his medallion and returned it to its place inside his tunic once more, before looking to the elves. They wore traveling clothes much like those of Gavin and his friends, except the coloring of theirs more closely matched the colors of forested terrain. Both elves’ eyes were a vibrant green, with the female’s hair being the golden color of pure sunlight, and the male elf’s hair a dark, earthy brown.
“Are you well? Do you need anything?” Gavin asked.
The elves looked to one another before the female said, “We are grateful for your intervention. They came upon us while we slept and had us bound before we could defend ourselves.”
“It’s not common for elves to travel this far south, given relations between our two peoples,” Lillian said.
“We’re not here by choice,” the male elf said, his voice harsh.
“Sarres,” the female elf said, her tone reproving, “you should be more respectful of Grandmother.”
Gavin felt the situation was about to become awkward, so he bowed once from his saddle, saying, “I am Gavin Cross. This is Kiri to my right, Declan deHavand to my left. Arrayed out behind me are my apprentices: Lillian, Mariana, Braden, and Wynn.”
The female elf scanned the group with her eyes before returning her gaze to Gavin. “And so does history repeat itself. Kirloth and his Apprentices walk upon the earth once more.”
Gavin heard the subtle emphasis she placed on ‘Apprentices’ and said, “I never-”
“Gavin, my brother is Kantar, Magister of Tutation, and I am Elayna, T’Eleren of Xanta. Kantar…mentioned…you and your fellows in a recent letter. My associate is Sarres; he is what you would call a Sentinel of Nature.”
Gavin heard a slight gasp from his apprentices behind him, and it seemed apparent he once again had encountered something he should have known.
“From the reaction of my friends, I gather there is something surprising about a Sentinel of Nature being this far from home.”
Elayna smiled. “Yes. The Sentinels defend the High Forest and maintain the border between Tel and our lands, but they are sworn to Xanta’s service first above all. When Grandmother commands one to travel, he or she travels.”
“Grandmother?” Gavin asked.
“Xanta was already a mother at the time the Godswar began, and my siblings and I are direct descendants of Her.”
“I see. Are you permitted to discuss where Xanta has commanded you to travel?”
Elayna and Sarres looked to one another before Elayna turned back to Gavin, saying, “We head for the Vushaari capital. My sister is the ambassador to King Terris’s court. May I ask if you are headed south as well?”
Gavin nodded. “We are. I too have business in the Vushaari capital.”
“May we travel with you, at least as far as the Vushaari border?” Elayna asked. “I don’t know how well-traveled these parts are, and I never thought we’d encounter partisans of the king so close to the Dracon lands.”
Gavin took a deep breath and released it as a sigh. “Very well. Welcome aboard. Braden, Wynn…would you mind retrieving our pack-mules? We’re losing daylight.”
It was early evening. The sun hadn’t set yet, but at most, an hour or two of daylight remained.
“There’s a copse of trees that looks like a good campsite,” Gavin said, pointing off to the right of the direction they rode. “What does everyone think?”
Lillian, Kiri, Braden, and Wynn remained silent.
“It should be adequate,” Sarres said.
Declan smiled, saying, “I’ve spent many a night in a cluster of trees like that.”
A clearing made up the center of the copse, and at the center of the clearing, they found a firepit, buried in decaying leaves and pine needles.
Declan shifted his gaze from the long-unused firepit to the surrounding trees, his expression speculative as he said, “I’d say this is a waystation. It’s the perfect spot, too. We’re about a day’s ride from the river, and before the Dracons withdrew from the old alliance, that track we’ve been following was a major trade route.”
“It will make a good camp for the night, but we should still post a watch,” Sarres said. “I have no desire to be awoken by a blade to my neck again.”
“Oh, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that,” Gavin said, looking up from where he sat on a nearby felled log with a tome in his hands. “Declan, can you find me enough stones the size of your fist to ring the firepit and…one, two, three…nine stones small enough to fit in the palm of Kiri’s hand?”
Sarres frowned, confusion clear across his entire expression. He started to speak, but Declan forestalled that by clapping him on the shoulder.
“Come on,” Declan said. “There’s no guarantee he’d answer, and what’s worse, he just might. We’ll find out soon enough.”
A short time later, Declan and Sarres returned with the stones Gavin requested.
Gavin looked up from where he was scratching something in the topsoil with a sharpened stick and smiled, saying, “Ah, excellent! Thank you both very much! Please, make a ring around the firepit with the big stones, and bring the smaller palm stones to me.”
Gavin closed the tome he’d been referencing and grabbed a small pebble with just a hint of an edge from the ground. He stood and walked over to the firepit and, once the ring of stones was complete, flopped down on the ground. He used the pebble to scratch a marking into the stone in front of him before shifting to the stone to his right and scratching a different marking into it. Gavin proceeded around the ring of stones until he was back where he started. Then, he hopped to his feet and retrieved the nine palm stones Sarres had handed him.
“Okay…everyone, please, gather around,” Gavin said, his voice raised just a bit. Soon, everyone was standing around Gavin. “Excellent. Now, I will stand in the firepit's center, and I want everyone to stand where I direct, please.”
Gavin hopped inside the ring and steadied himself on the uneven surface of old coals, decaying leaves, and pine needles that made up the firepit.
“Now, Lillian, stand right there, please, and hold this stone in the palm of your right hand. Kiri, stand to her left and hold this stone.” Gavin worked his way through the entire group until everyone stood around the firepit and holding a stone. “Good…excellent. Okay. The traditional way to create a wardstone keyed to a specific person is to use some of that person’s blood; Marcus did that when he created the key to our suite for Kiri. I’ve decided to try something a little different, mainly because I’d rather not ask everyone to prick their thumbs. The slight downside to this is that, whether or not it works, it will hurt a bit…and it’ll hurt worse for us wizards. Does anyone want to back out and do this the old-fashioned way?”
Everyone looke
d at one another, but no one moved to back away.
“Very well,” Gavin said. “Everyone, lean as close as you need to touch me with your left hands, but take care to keep your feet outside the ring of stones.”
“What happens if we stand inside the ring of stones with you?” Sarres asked.
Gavin frowned and remained silent for several moments before saying, “Well…I don’t really know but probably nothing good.”
The elves shared a glance but reached out with their left hands all the same.
Once everyone was touching him, Gavin closed his eyes and pushed everything from his mind except a clear picture of the effect he desired to achieve. He took a deep breath and invoked a composite effect, blending Words of Tutation, Interation, and Evocation into one multi-syllable Word, “Sykhurhos-Naekhos-Phaethys.”
The resonance of Gavin’s power slammed into his apprentices like the concussion of an intense thunderclap right above one’s head…but magnified a thousand-fold. It drove the breath from their lungs, and they staggered but remained standing. For several moments, nothing seemed to happen, and everyone relaxed.
Kaleidoscopic light burst forth from each stone in the ring as bands of power as thick as a weightlifter’s thigh arced from Gavin’s torso to the new radiance. With the radiance came pain, as every wizard present felt like every nerve was dipped in boiling acid. The commoners present were not immune, though their pain was a minute fraction of the intensity the wizards endured.
All at once and with no warning whatsoever, the radiance vanished as if it never was. Gavin—and his apprentices—collapsed to their knees, gasping and soaked in sweat. Blood trickled out of Gavin’s right nostril and his left ear.
Into Vushaar Page 1