“Oh, the stars!” one of the men stammered. “He’s alive!” His finger wavered, pointing toward Dariak.
The mage sat up, grabbing the back of his neck. He was oblivious to all but Randler. “The jades,” he said again. “Weak, but trying.” He winced in pain as the healing jade sent tiny wafts of energy toward Dariak’s wound, trying to repair the damage. He could feel the other jades trembling as if they were giving their minute strength to the healing jade.
“Be still,” Randler crooned. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Mage trickery!” one of the fighters shouted. “We should kill them now!”
Kitalla launched a dagger and it caught the man in the small of his neck, killing him instantly. “Who’s next?” she hissed. “Stand down!”
Uncertain of what to do, the fighters looked again at their fallen captain and the twenty other soldiers who had been downed during the ambush. Coupled with the rising of the mage, who should have died for all accounts of the strike he had taken, the fighters realized they had two choices; surrender or perish. Almost in unison, their swords were tossed to the ground.
“Verna, check on Carrus,” Kitalla ordered and the woman obeyed at once.
Ruhk stood with Kitalla, keeping a wary eye on the eight men standing before them. “He’s dead,” Verna called with a strangled knot in her throat. “Carrus is dead.”
“No,” Kitalla growled, an intense pain lighting inside her. “No, he can’t be,” she muttered.
Ruhk turned to her, “Kitalla?”
“No!” she screamed, rushing forward and throwing her daggers at the soldiers who had surrendered. Two fell dead instantly as she withdrew more knives from their buckles. Two others fell before any of them realized they were being executed.
The four remaining soldiers dodged the incoming attacks and reclaimed their weapons to fight against the distraught thief. She battled solely on instinct, and that was fatally dangerous to them. Her body slipped between their defenses, reacting to subtle twists of their arms and bends of their hips. Kitalla raged and grabbed one man by his helmet, bringing his head down and her knee up, bashing his noseplate in and smashing his face.
A sword slashed across her back and she yelped, spinning around and lunging for the assailant. She knocked him to the ground and yanked his helmet off, then used it to bash his skull. Her wild eyes rose up and watched as a sword cut downward. She reached out with her left hand and took a deep gash in her palm, while pulling her right arm around to take the blade itself and wrench it from the fighter. Screaming, she swept the blade around and clobbered the soldier with the hilt, then smacked him again and again until he felt to the ground.
The final fighter had his hands over his head and he was crying in terror, seeking refuge from the insane woman. He sought out Ruhk’s protection, falling to his knees in supplication and when Kitalla pursued the man, Ruhk intervened, blocking her strike and then grabbing her around the waist and tackling her. Verna hurried over and it took the two of them to restrain Kitalla.
Dariak recovered well enough to stand, thanks to the healing jade, but there was nothing he could do for Carrus. His life was already gone, and he stared at the man, his heart aching. He glanced over at Ruhk and Verna who were using all their strength to keep Kitalla still. “Let her go,” he said.
Kitalla’s eyes were wild. She shoved her comrades away and hurried over to Carrus, where she crashed to the ground in horror. Great wracking sobs shook her and her voice pierced through the air in agony. “Not you too! No, no, no, it can’t be! No!” She lifted his torso and pressed it against herself, rocking back and forth. The scene made the others feel terribly uncomfortable, intruding on an intensely private moment.
Perhaps it was his discomfort or maybe it was practicality, but Ruhk cleared his throat and muttered to Dariak, “We have to secure the rest of the outpost, and soon. If they reorganize in there…”
Verna touched the man’s shoulder. “Let’s go then. We can handle it.” With a determined look in their eyes, they lifted their swords and ventured through the fence, declaring the outpost captured and demanding the surrender of all the other inhabitants. Those who had seen the fighting surrendered immediately and insisted their comrades do the same.
Randler plucked the string of his bow in a slow rhythm, watching Kitalla as she continued to squeeze Carrus to her breast, as if she could resurrect him by her will alone. With a mild, tender voice, Randler lifted himself in song.
A warrior of the strongest heart, who lived a life so brave.
He stood up tall with his companions and risked his soul each day.
With blazing sword! With shining eyes!
Carrus is a man to cherish in our hearts.
He came to us from a land distant, a place now he cannot see.
Yet we will honor his every action, from the smallest to greatest deed.
With mighty arms! With sharpest mind!
Carrus is a man to cherish in our hearts.
An able fighter, was this man, and he rose up as a leader.
Though the odds were stacked up high against us, never did he teeter.
With powerful strikes! With sonorous voice!
Carrus is a man to cherish in our hearts.
His final grace in defense of a friend, saving us all this day.
He took on the captain and turned the tide, and that’s how he shall stay.
With deepest friends! With eternal grace!
Carrus is a man to cherish in our hearts.
He and Dariak wiped tears from their eyes, then the mage set some protection spells around Kitalla. There was no moving her, and she was entitled to her grief. They left her there, with her memories of Carrus and all the comfort and support he had given her when she otherwise would have fallen to pieces.
Her whimpering cries continued for hours.
Chapter 35
Looking Ahead
Ruhk and Verna stood side by side, swords poised for battle. They had infiltrated the outpost, demanding its surrender, and though most of the men and women acquiesced, they doubted the sly looks of more than a few.
“You watched what happened with the advance guard and your attempted ambush,” Verna reminded them. “We have the power to overcome all of you, if you choose to resist.”
“Which we don’t recommend,” Ruhk added. “Put your weapons down and rest assured that we won’t harm you if you comply.”
“How are we to know?” called a voice from the crowd.
“Guys, it’s all of us against the few of them!” shouted another.
“No!” argued a third. “What they did to Gevvin, did you see that?”
“Plus they have a mage! And he came back from the dead!”
The panic welled with each passing statement and Ruhk tightened his grip on his sword. “Silence!” he bellowed, making more than one soldier jump in surprise. “If we were here to kill you, we would not be standing here speaking to you in this manner.”
“You’re just afraid you can’t take us all!” called a younger woman from the rear.
Verna snarled. “Do you want to test your little theory, honey?” She ignored the warning from Ruhk as she spun her sword around, ready to sprint forward and hack away at the people in front of her. “If anyone wants to fight, then let’s go! I just lost a dear friend out there and I assure you that I wouldn’t mind cutting a bunch of you down as payment. Come on, then!” she screamed, her voice breaking madly. “Who’s first?”
Thirty pairs of eyes flickered back and forth, wondering who would take the challenge. Verna taunted them again, but the crazed look on her face held them all at bay. It took one fighter to throw down his spear, and the rest followed suit.
“Get yourselves inside to the mess hall,” Ruhk commanded. “We will explain our presence there.” The fighters filed out and Ruhk stepped up to Verna, who hadn’t relaxed her stance at all. “It’s going to be fine, Verna. Some of them are good fighters, but most are new recruits if you look at th
em.”
She stood transfixed for a few moments and then took a shuddering sigh and focused her breath. “It dawned on me when I said it that Carrus is really dead. I did actually want to hurt them.”
“I know,” he whispered. “Keep that insane glint in your eye, though. It seems to be working.”
Verna turned that gaze on him and he hopped away from her, wondering if she might strike him for the comment. “Let’s get this part over with,” she said.
The entire outpost gathered in the mess hall, including those who hadn’t been heading toward the field. Forty-three nervous Kallisorians looked up as Verna and Ruhk strode through the doors. Ruhk walked with a calm surety, even stepping over a loose plank in the floor that he remembered from his last visit there. It was a subtle action, but it made the gathering even more uncomfortable, for he clearly knew his way around.
Ruhk began by explaining their purpose in coming to the outpost and the changes that had recently taken place back at Castle Hathreneir. The announcements were met with much rebuke, but he kept his calm and explained the events more thoroughly. Not long later, Dariak and Randler entered through the doors behind him. Ruhk turned the speech over to Randler.
“Be calm,” the bard said, raising his hands in supplication. “Our purpose is one of peace and you will have a choice this night. You may adopt our philosophy and join us as we defend this place, or you may head to Castle Kallisor and deliver a message to our king.”
“What message?” cried a non-believer.
Dariak took a step forward and answered. “You will tell him that King Prethos of Hathreneir will be in attendance here, in this outpost, a fortnight hence.”
The room echoed with a shocked gasp. “You can’t be serious! This is our outpost! It’s inside Kallisor! If he comes here, he will be killed!”
Dariak waited for the people to quiet down. “You’re wrong,” he said. “We are here to secure this place for him. We will make the necessary preparations so that no one will die here.”
An angry voice rose from afar. “We shoulda killed ‘em when we hadda chance!”
“The only way,” Dariak continued, unperturbed, “that King Prethos will remain here and not venture further into Kallisor, is for your king to come here himself.”
The outrage continued. “It’s a trap! You’ll pin him here and slay him when he arrives! What assurance do we have for his safety?”
The mage waited. “I will give you one assurance,” he announced when he had everyone’s attention. “If the king does not arrive here within the month, then we will enter Kallisor outright and storm up to his gate to speak with him there.”
Shouts echoed angrily around the room and Dariak brought his hands together, calling the words to his fire dart spell. He flicked his fingers and released the pinpricks of light across the room, reminding them all who was in charge now. Moments later, an uneasy silence lingered.
Ruhk clapped his hands together once sharply, causing everyone to jump in their seats again. “Anyone who would join our cause, remain here. Everyone else, you have an hour to gather your belongings and flee this place. And I remind you, you’re to summon your king to join us here, and if he has the mind to bring you along, then you will see that we are honest in what we say.”
All but five Kallisorians rose up from the benches and retired to their barracks to gather their things. As the sun began its descent toward night, the fighters marched away from the outpost, making haste to warn their king of the danger they were leaving behind.
The five who remained were all healers who secretly employed magic to aid their craft when they could. “We honor the tenets of our king,” Elliera explained to Dariak, “but we would prefer this peace you offer to bring.” She bowed her head. “If your words ring true, then we will be allies for you. If we find deception among you, then I promise that we can use the energies to prevent healing as well.”
“Then I am glad to welcome you all to our efforts.”
A few hours later, the outpost was essentially empty. Ruhk and Verna searched for stragglers who might be hiding to ambush the group, but they found no one. Randler and three of the healers prepared food, while the other healers made arrangements for Carrus’ burial.
Dariak sat alone in the war room, the jades splayed out on the table before him. In turn, he moved them around, communing with their weakened essences and feeling how the energies shifted when he placed them next to different elements. Sitting there with the jades reminded him of Frast’s sacrifice months ago, and now Carrus was also gone. Quereth had fallen, Ervinor had lost an arm, and countless others were dead because of his quest.
Dariak lifted the nature and beast jades, feeling a strong connection between them. He thought of Astrith in the western forest, wondering if he could return to the wizened man for guidance once this leg of his journey was complete. The idea of sinking himself into the swaying natural energies of the world appealed to him and he wished there were a way he could lose himself in them now.
It was a useless notion, of course, for King Kallion would march with haste upon the outpost and then all of the final events needed to come together. Yet, a deep fear caught in the mage’s throat as he considered it. Was he inadvertantly recreating the War of the Colossus? The armies of both kingdoms would arrive at the outpost and the kings would face off against each other. He would unite the jades, giving his life in the process, but would the outcome be any different than what his father had done some two decades earlier?
That moment had cost the land much and Dariak didn’t know if the twenty years of relative peace were worth another such price. He set the jades on the table and lowered his head, trying to focus on the energies again and setting his doubts aside.
A while later, the door opened and Kitalla slipped inside, her face puffy and her hair ragged. Dariak had never seen her so defeated, even after the trials she had endured in Pindington and Magehaven. He didn’t know what to say to her, so he waited as she stepped up to the table and threw her body into one of the chairs.
“Tell me what happened,” she said, her voice raw.
“Which part?” he asked, though he suspected what she meant.
“Why didn’t the dance work? Why did Carrus die?”
He nodded slightly. “I’ve considered it carefully,” he began. “I’m not certain if I’m correct yet, but I believe it’s true. But I don’t know if you want the answer.”
Her eyes narrowed and her lip curled into a snarl. “Don’t toy with me, Dariak.”
“It comes down to the energies,” he explained, gesturing to the shards in front of him.
“They were drained at Hathreneir,” she said.
“Yes, and a dead magic zone was the result of their spent power. Your dance skill flourished all of a sudden. It was stronger than it ever had been.”
“True,” she admitted.
“It was the only energy still flowing,” Dariak continued. “That special skill of yours. It isn’t the same kind of magic as the spells I know.”
“You’ve told me this before,” she complained. “Your magic comes from channeling the energies from without, through spell components and words and gestures, and then the result is created.”
“Correct.”
“Whereas, with me, it’s all from me. I generate it. I get that… So?”
He stroked his finger on the earth jade, feeling the fine layer of dirt that was perpetually present there. “So there were no other energies around, thus your skill seemed magnified by comparison.”
“Hmm,” Kitalla considered. “You’re saying it’s like a torch in daylight and the same torch at night. It only appears to be brighter when the rest of the world is dark, even though it isn’t brighter at all?”
“It’s like that, yes,” he agreed. “But, staring at a torch in daylight,” he explained using her analogy, “doesn’t hurt your eyes the same way because the area is flooded with light and your eye protects you against it. When you see that same fire in the darkness,
it’s jarring on the senses and overwhelming. Your skill overwhelmed everyone because all of the other energies around them were dampened, so yours stood out more.”
“Interesting,” she commented. “But it felt different, Dariak. When I envisioned each time, it was so vivid and alluring, and that’s not the same as it used to be.”
He shrugged. “You’ve also been using the skill more and you’ve become more proficient at it. I believe you’ve also tried to incorporate some of the energy-drawing skills I’ve shown you. It would all add up.”
“Until today,” she lamented.
Dariak’s eyes fell away and landed on the jades in front of him. “The jades have started to awaken.”
She stared at the mage, thinking. “You’re telling me that because they’ve begun to awaken, my dance skill isn’t going to work anymore?”
“No,” Dariak shook his head. “Actually, it’s sort of the opposite in a way. Kitalla, when you started that routine out there, the energy radiated off you like always. However, it didn’t go where you intended it to go.” He looked pointedly at the jades again.
She followed his glance. “You’re saying they absorbed it?”
Dariak nodded. “Remember that bout against Mzark before we left? You lost control of the skill and energy kept pouring out of you wildly. You couldn’t stop yourself. I think the jades were trying to reach out to you, but they were unsuccessful then.”
“And so this time, they took that energy inside and started to heal.”
“Essentially,” he dipped his head. “It was the healing jade that kept me alive with that blade in my neck. But it wasn’t strong enough to save Carrus as well. It seemed to realize that, and it stopped protecting him and focused all of its power on me. It’s the only way I survived.”
Kitalla closed her eyes, digesting his words carefully. “You’re saying that my dance skill ended up saving your life because the healing jade absorbed the energy.”
“Yes,” he answered, seeing anger boiling in her eyes.
The Forgotten Tribe Page 30