The Accidental Archmage - Book Five: Loki's Gambit

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  A battle for Hedmark will have a chance, thought a slim one, of going in our favor, if and only if the Barrens army is not involved, he reflected. If the two forces joined, then he doubted if the tsunami of undead could be held back, even with the help of the hammerless Thor. To make matters worse, the peculiar energy of the animating spell would render the mages of the fortress incapacitated most of the time. What they encountered on the field was but a part of the main horde, and yet it nearly killed the accompanying mages of the rescuing host. The bizarre magical energy was a crucial problem which had to be resolved. There was no telling what the effect of a much higher concentration of such power would do to him.

  “Guys? Anything about that weird energy feedback?” he asked the guides.

  “Yes, sire,” replied X. “A fortunate result of your unhappy experience was the availability of the energy in such a concentrated form, enabling us to make use of large samples to test our conclusions. The spell had an ingenious magical structure, and whoever crafted it intended to disguise its origin. But we know now how to protect you from its effects.”

  “X. The short version, please,” commented the mage. There was no escaping the theoretical mindset of the two when a subject fascinated them. Like now.

  “The energy used is natural magical one. But the spell itself is actually composed of two conjurations. The first is a fairly common example intended to keep a spell or spells together and amplify the effect. It is similar to a protective and carrying spell meant for complex magical patterns. But the second, the main spell, is an ancient one which once existed and was known only during a time of war between gods and men on one side, and Titans on the other,” explained X.

  “Titans. Isn’t that a Greek myth? I mean, what has that got to do with Skaney?”

  “It is indeed of ancient Greek origin, magic of a kind not practiced anymore on the First World after the defeat of the Titans at the hands of Zeus and his army. By its very nature, it is magical knowledge unfamiliar to the Norse pantheon and possibly even to the Greeks, considering that each side used dissimilar lore during the Titan Wars, or the Titanomachy,” added Hal.

  “But it should be recognizable to those of the Greek pantheon who fought in that conflict, Zeus for one,” said Tyler, trying to understand how the spell escaped the scrutiny of the northern pantheons.

  “Therein lies the ingenuity of the spell. Wrapped in a common shielding spell, the ancient knowledge became difficult to discern, even to one acquainted with it, as the two came from different systems of magic. Add to that the fact it was cast through a dimensional medium, confusing matters further,” answered X.

  “I guess the spell used in Hellas used the reverse formula – Norse ancient magic held together by a Greek spell,” ventured the mage.

  The only deity I can think of right now is Loki again. He’s been all over Adar, according to him. But how the hell was the bastard able to get knowledge about the ancient forms of magic in Norse, Greek, Egyptian, and Sumerian mythology? And how could he come up with such a complicated spell?

  Tyler considered the situation carefully. But the mage found that certain facts go against his previous assessment. The trickster may be infernally devious, but that complicated spell required a different degree of specialization. And the lore for accessing dimensions which can distort only the outward form of a spell would be an even more esoteric field of study. Finally, the possible motivation of the suspected culprit still eluded him.

  “Right, sire. The common factor is the use of the dimensional veneer to disguise an already hard-to-recognize spell. Whoever thought of the pattern of the final conjuration definitely knew First World magic in its ancient forms across different pantheons. Definitely either a mad genius or brilliant lunatic,” observed Hal.

  “You do know the descriptions you mentioned are just the same,” reproached Tyler.

  “There’s a difference. In the first example, madness came first, it just so happened that extreme intelligence was present. In second, precocity was an existing condition unfortunately distorted by insanity,” insisted the guide.

  “Now you’re splitting hairs and giving me a migraine, Hal. Let’s deal with the important question first; now we know what the spell is, how are we going to unravel it?”

  “You’re not going to like the answer, sire,” piped up X.

  ***

  Tyler was unbelievably weary and nauseous. He sure hoped it was all worth it.

  The solution recommended by his guides involved Elder energy which would tear apart any spell made from natural magical power. But there was no such energy available. Not even the tiniest bit of it. The mage had expended whatever shred of the unique energy the two AIs had recovered.

  X recommended trying the suggestion of G, the Elder intelligence back in the land of the deity Sarva. The mind of the mage immediately recoiled from the proposal. What Tyler could distinctly remember was the excruciating comment when he asked about the pain involved. Coursing massive amounts of energy through his bones was a traumatizing experience for the mage. He knew forcibly compressing magic down through the bones and into the marrow, then releasing it for collection by Hal and X, would be worse. Add to such pain the uncertainty involved in obtaining the desired result, a caution G had helpfully pointed out.

  After several minutes of silence from Tyler when the idea was broached, X was forced to ask again the question of whether the mage would be willing to try G’s suggestion?

  “My apologies, X. I was a bit lost recollecting my unforgettable experience the last time I tried part of what you suggested,” replied Tyler.

  “We do have a solution for the extreme pain. You’d feel some discomfort, but that’s all. While Hal manages the process, I’ll numb the appropriate nerve endings and look after whatever tissue or organ damage which could ensue.”

  Tissue damage? ORGAN DAMAGE?

  “Good God, X! Spare me the details. I know you’re going to be technical about it. I appreciate that. You want me to be informed about what’s going to happen. But unfortunately, I wouldn't understand most of what the medical lecture would be all about. Just tell me it’s safe,” exclaimed Tyler.

  And I don’t want to know the possible adverse effects. Organ damage, for Christ’s sake!

  “It should be safe. But your body will feel the consequences of the process. There’s no avoiding it. Your body is an interconnected and very complicated set of systems. Anything which deals with one of its structures is bound to affect the rest in one way or the other. But what we propose is to do the procedure with your right arm first. If successful, then we can continue with the left to give the other arm time to recuperate,” explained X.

  “You guys frightened me there for a while. I thought you would suggest a full body process,” said the relieved mage.

  “Of course not, sire. That would entail a high risk of killing you,” answered X.

  Sunuvabitch.

  ***

  Good news and bad news resulted from the slapdash experiment. It took but thirty minutes, according to X. Any longer and his body would start to have long-term effects – severe involuntary spasms of arm muscles, for example. The good news was he was still alive, and the test had no lasting impact on his body, though the slight dizziness and nausea the mage now experienced begged to disagree. The bad news was that Elder energy was produced, or something akin to it.

  “What do you mean by akin to Elder energy?” cried the subject of the experimental venture.

  All that fucking worry and discomfort, and we come up with a half-baked version? The thought laughed at him.

  “It was an experiment, sire. Though we knew what the general process was, the finer details of the method are still not available to us,” replied X defensively.

  Tyler calmed down. X was right. The entire venture was an exercise in desperation.

  “So, what do we have?” he asked.

  “It is Elder energy intertwined with natural magical power. The strands are still separate but b
onded in a way we are still trying to understand. Not much from one session, enough for a minor spell. It will have the power of an Elder spell, but the level of efficacy is unknown,” described X.

  It was evident from the tone of the guide that they were mystified by the strange result.

  “What do you suggest? Though that ‘enough for a minor spell’ comment does give me an idea of the answer,” remarked the mage with resignation.

  “At least three more sessions, sire. That number would hopefully be adequate to obtain what we believe to be the needed amount and quite safe for you.”

  “Quite safe. Not really a guarantee, but get on with it,” replied Tyler.

  The end result was an extremely weakened mage, though Tyler was thankful he wasn’t delirious. The last session gave rise to grunts and mumbled curses on his part. Despite X’s preparations, the continued uncomfortable, painful at times, sensations running throughout his arms physically and mentally wore him down. Even if the experiment focused on his arms, the mage could feel the debilitating effect on the rest of his body.

  At the sounds the mage was making, Kobu was concerned enough to ask him if everything was all right. Tyler lied in reply.

  But no, he wasn’t all right, the thought immediately arose after he gave Kobu the misleading answer.

  “Do we have enough?” he finally asked.

  “We hope so, sire. Your body can’t handle any more energy conversions for now,” replied Hal.

  “Good. I think I have reached my limit for the day too. Let me get some rest.”

  Though X was careful in the periodic releases of its control of Tyler's nerve endings, sudden agonizing pinpricks accompanied each stage of switching such processes back to his body, a situation resulting in a sleepless night on top of his suffering. Only the ominous specter of a vast ocean of undead closing in on the fortress kept him from regretting the entire experience.

  Damn. I really should find the proper way of doing this, the mantra kept on repeating itself in his thoughts every time a cloud of pain arose from his arms.

  ***

  “Sire, sire.”

  Kobu’s voice penetrated the hazy fog of his sleep-deprived brain. Tyler opened his eyes. The mage realized he’d fallen asleep around dawn, and a severe headache greeted him. He tried to focus on the standing figure beside the bed, but it took several seconds before the image became clearer.

  “Good morning, Kobu. What is it?”

  “I apologize for disturbing you, sire. But a mounted company of the High King’s personal guard has arrived. Heavily armored and armed. The leader is demanding your presence.”

  Demanding?

  The extreme discomfort of the weary mage was quickly replaced by a growing irritation.

  “Demanding?” he voiced what he thought he’d heard, making sure his ears got it right.

  “Yes, sire. Demanding,” grinned the exile.

  An abrupt double dose of healing spells gave the highly irritated mage enough energy to stand up and furiously storm out of the room. Kobu followed. As Tyler swiftly walked through the hallways, full of people going about the morning’s preparations, he was so focused on meeting the early and annoying guests that he didn’t notice his way was being cleared. People were being forced back, pressed against the walls and ceiling of the corridor, or thrown aside. The mage didn’t notice the chaos he was creating and leaving behind. Kobu did tell him afterward that he saw a gray eddy, streaked with red flashes, around the mage as he strode toward the door of the keep.

  The closed doors slammed open as he walked out. In front of the keep was a force of dismounted warriors, defensively arrayed in a shield wall, after the low stone fence of the structure. Beside the keep’s entrance were Habrok, his bow in hand, and Tyndur whose weapon was already covered with flames.

  Surprisingly, a number of dwarves were grouped in battle formation facing the shield wall, the svartalfar led by Dvalin on the right flank and the dvergar on the left, with Otr in front twirling a warhammer. The jarl and a large number of his warriors were off to the left side, several meters from Otr’s band.

  Tyler took the scenic view in as he walked forward. A voice at the back of his mind was shouting at him that the situation was dangerously tense.

  Shut the fuck up, the mage inwardly shouted down the errant voice.

  He looked at Tyndur. The einherjar closed the few meters separating them.

  “Men of the hird of the High King. They have just arrived and the leader, that snotnose over there, wanted to go to your room and drag you back to Hirdburg. Of course, we dissuaded him, and I personally reminded them all of the error of their arrogant ways. The dwarves already up and awake overheard the exhibition of my phonological skills and quickly set up their formations on the sides of the keep. The jarl couldn’t interfere as it involved the High King’s order, though he told me he couldn’t care less if we wiped our asses with these naughty boys,” the einherjar quickly updated the mage.

  “This stupid strutting of their High King on top of a looming siege?” asked Tyler with cold fury.

  “Mr. Snotnose did mention something about Hirdburg and Ahrensburg, the region where the city was located, being under threat and swarming with undead. So, the minute the High King heard about a High Mage in Hedmark, he sent these men. Quite the leader. He couldn’t care less about the possibility of Hedmark being at the forefront of the real invasion. But that’s politicians for you,” said Tyndur.

  “Only a company? This is insulting,” said Tyler. “Anyway, go to the dwarves and tell them not to get involved. We can’t afford a war between Skaney and the combined might of the two dwarven races on top of everything. I’ll take care of this matter.”

  Tyler walked forward, clad only in tunic and pants, though he had the staff in hand.

  “Who demanded the High Mage’s presence?” he coldly called out.

  A bulky warrior standing in front of the shield wall stepped forward.

  “Don’t tell me you’re him? Such a young, thin mage. Probably a seidr mage too. Where’s the High Mage?” demanded the warrior in a haughty shout.

  “The High Mage is not of Skaney, nor of any realm in this world. The arrogance of your king will fail you. Be careful. Otherwise, Skaney will find itself without a ruler,” replied Tyler. He felt weird. Cold anger and hot fury alternated deep inside him.

  “You’re making threats?” laughed the warrior, loudly. At the words, the vast number of onlookers quickly withdrew a good distance from the scene, a fact which didn’t escape the attention of the warriors in the shield wall. A good many were craning their heads around, curious as to the reason for the mystifying reaction.

  Something rapidly boiled from within Tyler, a strength which only made its appearance when Astrid had lunged at Habrok a long time ago. It rose and hovered on the outskirts of his consciousness, waiting for the expression to give it form and substance.

  “STUPID!” he shouted. As the word came out, the mage could see the transparent form of the energy accompanying it. The massive force slammed into the leader and his men, breaking wooden shields and flinging men a considerable distance away. Some flying bodies even reached and slammed into the inner earthworks. Clouds of dust covered the area. The sound of moaning and the cries of the injured came to the fore. The mage walked forward through broken armor and spears lying on the ground. The air cleared as Tyler advanced. Directly in front of him was the leader. The man was still conscious, though clearly suffering a broken leg. Seeing him, the warrior drew his sword.

  The mage said nothing. Instead, using the levitation spell, he raised the warrior twenty feet up in the air, then released his hold on the conjuration. Then Tyler turned back to the keep, not waiting for the warrior to reach the ground. A loud crash sounded behind him.

  As he neared the keep, he saw the jarl, the two dwarven chieftains, and his companions waiting for him. The ruler of Hedmark was wearing a wry smile.

  “Remind me not to get on your bad side early in the morning,” co
mmented the jarl.

  “I almost didn’t get any sleep preparing for the inevitable onslaught. My body hurts like hell, and a bad headache said good morning to me. And I am not even referring to these clowns,” replied Tyler crossly.

  “But I am deeply thankful you decided to stay and fight with us,” replied the jarl. “After the events of last night, your mere presence encourages the men. Hirdburg is far from here, and I doubt if our plight has gained the High King’s sympathy.”

  “Well, High Mage, that was a good laugh with which to grace one’s morning,” said Otr. “After Hedmark, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to visit our kingdom. There is a part of our realm no mortal could enter. It’s a dark place, but rich in what we seek. Normally, we wouldn’t worry and leave it be, but our watchers have reported that the area is growing. About 500 feet a year. We fear the longer we wait and the greater its area, whatever lives in that noisome place becomes stronger. If you have the time, of course.”

  “Don’t say anything, High Mage!” exclaimed Dvalin. “Let me negotiate terms for you. The dvergar are tricky.”

  “And I suppose your kind isn’t?” replied Otr with a snort.

  Any further acrimonious business discussion was suddenly interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a ball of glowing light a few feet away. As the orb spun through the air toward Tyler, it left an incandescent stream of sparks in the air, visible even in the bright morning sun. It stopped in front of the mage.

  “Lord First Mage. I am the Valkyrie Gunnhildr. The god Freyr bid me to inform you that the army in the Barrens is now pursuing them in the direction of Ymir’s Domain. However, the army near Hedmark has started moving toward the town.”

  Then the glowing sphere disappeared. Tyler waited for the stupefied jarl and the two dwarves to recover. Dvalin was the first to speak.