A Clash of Magics

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A Clash of Magics Page 27

by Guy Antibes


  “You should have let us help, General,” the Brachian commander told his superior.

  “No need,” Brightwork said. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He clapped Trevor on the shoulders. “Your strategic advice was the key to our victory. I sent out more scouts to locate the enemy force, who had split into two pieces, an advance unit followed by substantial reinforcements with the intent on creating a vise with us in the middle. We ended up being the vise. I had to leave a good portion of my men behind to guard prisoners. Let’s get this war over with quickly, so my men can get back to their homes. There is a limit to how much fun one can have.”

  Trevor nodded. Soldiering was fun only so far. “Then it is time to get into position. We will need a few more troops to enter the enclave from the land,” he said. “The maps we have of the interior aren’t reliable.”

  “Just tell me how many you need?” Brightwork said as Trevor took them to the command tent.

  Trevor showed Brightwork the enclave maps and the composite one they had made before they entered a discussion about entering the capital.

  “Do you think the ships will arrive in time? We can’t hold the armies at bay for long,” Brightwork said.

  “We should have a new strategy that doesn’t require a blockade,” Trevor said. “Perhaps we could commandeer ships on the wharf to send them to cordon off the waters closest to the enclave.”

  Brightwork looked down at the map. “I will have anyone with experience with boats and ships identified and group them into a single force as we are taking the city over. If the other ships arrive, it will only enhance our ability to keep the enclave bottled up.”

  Trevor nodded. “Let’s send messengers out to get the soldiers selected before we begin the invasion.”

  “What will we do about Maskum’s chief of state?” Brightwork asked. “It seems we have been concentrating on the magicians.”

  “Supposedly, he is a figurehead,” the Brachian commander said.

  Potur Lott rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. I’ve been to Khartoo lots of times, and the potentate has become a recluse. I didn’t consider him a threat but perhaps cowed by the enclave.”

  “He could still be a member of a cabal,” Trevor said. “The Jarkanese army has the responsibility for taking the palace and administration buildings. There aren’t many bureaucrats in Khartoo since Maskum is a loosely run country.”

  “Then I would check with General Henkari. You should have a plan to provide him with reinforcements. Our assignment is the western part of the city, and judging by the map, The Viksaran sector is closer to the palace than we are,” Brightwork said.

  “Henkari knows that,” Trevor said. “I left it up to him to make decisions on the troops entering from the north and northeast. We want a light occupation, but enough to allow us to clean out the enclave.”

  Brightwork nodded. “I don’t see that changing from what I see here and what we discussed at Henkari’s border garrison. Have you had any recent updates from the other armies?”

  Potur Lott nodded. “We get them every few hours. There is a chain of messages and individual messages coming in. The Sirlandian army is lagging the most, but they have had to slog their way through all the coastal garrisons. The Kyrian force has had to slow their advance to keep pace with the Sirlandians.” Potur Lott used a pointing stick to show the blocks on the large map of Maskum.

  “And we will have to wait too. I’ll be having my men build some fortifications to protect our flank against surprises. I suggest you do the same,” Brightwork said.

  “Already underway, sir,” the Brachian commander said.

  They rehashed the strategies, but other than implementing Brightwork’s sailor idea, there wasn’t much new other than current army locations. The Brachian general left, and Trevor stayed in the tent with Potur Lott and the Brachian commander discussing how best to use the additional men Brightwork was sending them.

  “How can we get better information about the potentate?” Trevor said.

  “I’d ask around, but not around the enclave,” Potur said. “You can take Lissa again.” He pulled the map of Khartoo out. “This is where we stayed before. The palace isn’t far.”

  “Then I can teleport to the inn and spend a little time drinking Maskumite wine with the locals,” Trevor said. “There is enough time for that.”

  “You don’t trust my network?” Potur asked.

  “Do you? Someone betrayed me to the enclave when I went inside. I assume it was the candy seller or his wife.”

  Potur stared at the map. “I don’t know. You might be better off working on your own, after all. It’s one thing to move around a city that isn’t about to be invaded than in one that is.”

  Trevor nodded. “We won’t spend much time,” he said. “Our trip to the wharf worked out.”

  “Let’s hope for good results two out of three times,” Potur said.

  “We will leave as soon as Lissa can be ready.”

  ~

  Lissa spotted a pub where they could see the spires of the palace. They stepped inside. The place wasn’t too fancy, but Trevor didn’t spot any rough characters in the establishment when he led her to a table in front of a window where they could see the tops of the narrow towers that sprouted from the potentate’s residence.

  “New to Khartoo?” the server said. He was a middle-aged, portly fellow with balding hair compensated by a colossal brush of a mustache.

  “No,” Trevor said casually. “I’ve been here a few times before but not under the present circumstances. Aren’t you worried about running out of food and drink?”

  “With a few soldiers approaching? I hardly think so,” the man said. “We have the enclave to protect us if our soldiers aren’t good enough.”

  Trevor nodded. “I tried out once,” he said, “for the enclave, I mean. I was rejected.”

  “Most are, you know. Our magicians have defended Khartoo well in the past,” the man said.

  “But that was long ago. Maybe they aren’t as strong or as experienced as they were then,” Trevor said. “I mean, we are here for them, don’t get me wrong. My girlfriend and I left our village before the Jarkanese army passed by.”

  “You could have joined the Maskumite army, lad,” the server said with a frown. The man had to own the place to have been so bold with a customer.

  “Bad shoulder,” Trevor said. “The sword is one my father brought back from a Jarkanese incursion. Showing it is my only defense.”

  “Why should I believe you?” the server asked.

  “I’m not asking you to believe me. All we want is some fine Khartooian wine and a suitable snack,” Trevor said.

  The server relaxed a bit and nodded. “Something light for the lady?”

  “And light for me,” Trevor said.

  They watched the server walk away. The man looked back once.

  “We should leave immediately,” Trevor said. He put a few coins on the table, and they left the pub, moving closer to the palace. “Let’s walk to the other side of the palace. I’d teleport us if I could. The server asked too many questions. He might be secret police.”

  Lissa nodded. “Down this alley, so we can be out of sight from the pub.”

  Trevor took her hand, and they were soon on the other side of the alley onto another street. This one intersected with the wall that ran around the palace. He looked the other way and saw the facade of the Dryden church in Khartoo. They were at the edge of the administrative quarter of the city. Lissa tugged on Trevor’s hand to turn him around.

  “On the other side of the palace?” she said.

  They walked past a few houses until a man walked out of one. “Stop!”

  Trevor squeezed Lissa’s hand as he did as the man requested. The man who looked a little younger than Brother Yvan rushed down the steps to the pavement and looked at Trevor. “There are three seers in Khartoo at present. I am one of them, and you are another.”

  “I’m not a seer,” Trevor said.

  The m
an looked up at Trevor’s face and the hilt of the Jarkanese sword poking over his shoulder. “You are Dryden’s messenger, that qualifies. Come into my house. You will be safer here.”

  There were a few people on the street, so Trevor could hardly deny the seer’s request, and if the man proved to be friendly at all, he might give them enough information. Trevor knew how to work the situation. The fewer Khartooians killed, the better.

  They walked into a house decorated like a northern home.

  “You are from Ginster?”

  The seer nodded. “I am. I was chosen to come down here because I looked more Maskumite than most of my colleagues.”

  “Who is the present head seer?” Trevor asked.

  “Lister Vale. Did I pass?” the seer said with a smile.

  “I didn’t mean it as a difficult test,” Trevor said. “This is—”

  “Lissa Caspur. I know of your father, but I’ve never met him.”

  Trevor looked around the room. He didn’t feel threatened in any way. “Do you know Yvan Grindeworm?”

  “And he knows me. I assume he is the other seer on the western edge of the city?” the seer asked. “I am Merik Bandeford. I go by Seer Merik in Khartoo since my first name sounds more Maskumite. It isn’t a secret that I come from Ginster, though.”

  “I am Trevor Arcwin.”

  Merik laughed. “I know your name well. What brings you inside Khartoo? We haven’t been invaded yet.”

  “That will happen within a few days,” Trevor said. The armies’ position couldn’t have been a secret, not with them so close to the city. “We wanted to know more about the potentate. Does the palace need to be captured or not?”

  “The potentate keeps me pretty much in the dark regarding the conflict. They might not trust me,” Merik said. “I would worry about such a thing, too, if I were in their boots.”

  “Are you trustworthy?” Trevor asked.

  “Not entirely,” Merik said. “My wife is a Khartooian and of the royal family.”

  “Our fight is with the enclave,” Trevor said, “not the potentate.”

  Merik laughed softly. “And there you are wrong. Your fight is with the potentate as well as the enclave cabals.”

  “You are aligned with the potentate?”

  Another soft laugh. “Would you believe me no matter what I said?”

  “Perhaps,” Trevor said.

  “I am neutral. My wife has no love for her second cousin. The previous potentate, her uncle, was more her style. The potentate despises Dryden worship, for example. Still, she wouldn’t want to see the potentate assassinated,” Merik said.

  “I’m not in favor of killing rulers,” Trevor said. “Should we capture the potentate? Is there enough support in the city to have him deposed in favor of another royal family member? I’m not at war with the Maskumite people, just those who seek to gain power over the world.”

  “That is my cousin-in-law.”

  “He has kept it a secret,” Lissa said. “No one I’ve talked to has mentioned him as the initiator of all the unrest.”

  “Furtive, he is. My wife’s relative has quintupled the size of the secret police during his reign. Many shopkeepers are paid informers. There is some unrest in the city, but all in all, Khartoo is not that eager to be liberated.”

  That confirmed Trevor’s suspicion about the server in the pub. “Our purpose isn’t to subjugate or liberate Maskum, but to eradicate the threat to other countries. Do you know what cabals are behind the potentate?”

  “I’m not at liberty to tell you that,” Merik said. “I am the potentate’s seer, after all. I can tell you what you can pick up as common knowledge, but you must understand my position is one built on confidences.”

  Trevor pursed his lips. “I hope your relationship with the potentate doesn’t put you or your wife in peril.”

  “Do you mean that as a threat?” Merik asked.

  “No. It is a heartfelt warning from Dryden’s messenger,” Trevor said.

  Merik’s face turned pale. “Your words have more power than you know.”

  “But not enough to tell me what cabals I need to destroy?” Trevor asked.

  He didn’t get a chance to answer as there was pounding on the door in the front, and Trevor could hear the door thrown open in the back.

  “You told them I was here,” Trevor said.

  “I warned you I wasn’t to be trusted,” Merik said with a sly smile. “You will now be able to ask the potentate as many questions as you like. However, I am sure he will be doing more asking than you.”

  Trevor took Lissa’s hand and teleported back to camp. He immediately sought out Brother Yvan.

  “You’ve returned,” the cleric said.

  “Do you know Merik Bandeford?” Trevor asked.

  Brother Yvan’s eyebrows rose. “Someone mentioned him?”

  “We met the seer,” Lissa said. “He is much too casual with the truth.”

  “And you still managed to tell the tale. Merik has turned into a creature of Maskum,” Brother Yvan said. “I wouldn’t have suggested meeting him.”

  Trevor related the conversation.

  “That is news about the potentate. It is likely true since he didn’t mislead you with naming cabals. I didn’t know about the secret police until Potur Lott just told me about them. It makes more sense that there is a political sponsor to everything the cabals are doing in the world. We probably don’t know the truth of the relationship, but did your visit give you enough information to advise General Henkari?”

  Trevor nodded. “I’ll be visiting him in person, but I’ll have to travel overland.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Brother Yvan said.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  ~

  T revor arrived in General Henkari’s encampment with an escort of one hundred soldiers. He had one more day before Samar Doford’s ships were due in the Khartooian harbor.

  “Everyone is in position except for the Sirlandians, but they just won a major skirmish and expect to be ready tomorrow,” General Henkari said, handing Trevor the dispatches.

  “They will need to combine forces with the Kyrians,” Trevor said, “who can begin to attack these three gates.”

  “Can you help get men into the city?” Henkari asked.

  Trevor shook his head. “I could do it one at a time, but then I wouldn’t be able to teleport again for a few days. I tried teleporting more than one person once, and it wasn’t pleasant. You will have to think of a different way.”

  The general grunted. “We are here to distract the magicians so you can clean out the enclave, anyway.”

  “Not so,” Trevor said. He told Henkari about the potentate.

  “That is a surprise,” Henkari said. “All our spies, including Potur, said the potentate was passive in all this.”

  “And that exactly was what he wanted everyone to think,” Trevor said. “Brother Yvan can give you a few words of background on the man.”

  Brother Yvan didn’t have a great deal to relate, other than the man wasn’t trustworthy. Seers were appointed to help heads of state, and that meant they had the discretion to align themselves with the country’s ruler. Merik Bandeford wouldn’t lose his seer position because he agreed with the potentate’s politics, and that meant helping to capture Dryden’s messenger. Trevor thought that Bandeford still had crossed a line.

  “Then he won’t be able to claim he is apolitical,” Henkari said. “That is good to know, because I am going to give myself the task to attack the palace.”

  Brother Yvan chewed on his lip for a moment. “Bring in troops from other countries. Invading the palace should be a charge of the allied forces. We brought along one hundred Brachians. We will leave them with you. Have the Viksarans send along a force.”

  Henkari nodded. “Good advice. Jarkan won’t be the only country to punish the potentate.”

  They spent another hour going over possible invasion tactics.

  “While we were talking, I thought of s
omething to help the armies with the gates,” Trevor said. “I can teleport with Gorian Custik to the gates in the middle of the night. He is a ward expert and can set explosive wards that will be activated by arrows when the attacks commence. I think we can do something similar when we launch our attack against the enclave.”

  They ended with General Henkari asking for Potur Lott to return to his camp.

  “Potur knows Khartoo as well as anyone,” Henkari said as Brother Yvan and Trevor left the tent. “I’ll provide your escort, and they can return with Potur Lott.”

  Trevor nodded and left the camp. He hoped Gorian would agree to work in the middle of the night.

  ~

  The harbor’s water looked a bit angry as Trevor faced a cold wind coming from the bay. It was clear enough to see the Sirland fleet approaching the opening in the Khartooian breakwater. Trevor took a chance and teleported with Brother Yvan to the largest ship.

  Samar Doford stood with the captain on the steering deck. Trevor fell on the deck, which was pitching and rolling in the heavy sea. Sailors rushed to steady both Trevor and Brother Yvan.”

  “A bit of magic, lads!” Samar said, trying to settle down the sailors. “This is our leader.” He climbed down from the steering deck and helped Trevor and Brother Yvan back to the steering deck before an anxious sailor did something stupid. “That was a dramatic entrance.”

  “The land doesn’t move, and when I teleported—” Trevor winced as water spray showered the deck as the ship rolled against a wave.

  “The deck wasn’t flat.” Samar laughed. “I’m glad you didn’t end up in the ocean.”

  “It looks like I got a little ocean on me anyway. I’ll be more careful next time—if there is a next time,” Trevor said. “You gathered a large fleet.”

  Samar nodded. “I was able to convince a few more captains to join us. They will be participating in the blockade, but they only came on the condition that they wouldn’t have to fight the Maskumites.”

  “The appearance of numbers can still be a useful deterrent,” Brother Yvan said.

  “Right. It has been a while since I came to Khartoo,” Samar said. “Where do you want us to post the ships?”

 

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