Armies of the Silver Mage (21 page)

“The ways are not safe,” argued a strong voice. “My people are few but we kill Goblins when we find them. I would not trust to follow the paths and trails with a civilian among us.”

“You offer more security than I can and you know the terrain. Take her to Ipn Shal and wait for me.”

“Were you not a wizard I’d dismiss this conversation,” said the first man. “What you ask is difficult. The war with Gren is spreading. We’re finding more and more Goblins and other fell creatures. I fear for us all.”

“As do I,” said the second. “Which is precisely why I need you to escort her to the ruins. I must go east to aid in Averon’s defense. They will soon be hard pressed to hold their ground.”

“How deep run the armies of the mage?”

There was an overlong pause.

“More than any has seen before.”

A horse balked in fear.

The first man spoke again, a much darker tone lacing his vice. “Can we survive?”

“There are many forces at work now. Good and evil are but two. A seer may show us how this war will end, but I rather enjoy how things naturally happen. Gives me a purpose for being, after all.”

Tarren caught a light laugh.

“I don’t share your views, wizard, but I can understand where your heart is. Your kind and mine are slowly fading from the world. All the magic from the ancient world is being replaced by newer and more powerful forces. I would like to say that I feel the same, but my heart warns otherwise. If Averon falls the western countries are doomed.”

The wizard clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “There may yet be hope.”

“Not without all the races coming together. It is a fight we cannot win otherwise.”

“Head to head, I agree. Our hope lay in a select few already chosen to champion the free world. Throw in a wily old mage and a few tokens of power and our chances seem quite remarkable.”

She heard another laugh, from a third man.

“You have a way with words. I hope to sit and drink with you for many hours when this is finished.”

“So you’ll take the girl?”

“What are your plans?”

Tarren heard the reluctance in his voice, and almost stepped into the clearing to confront them. She didn’t like being talked about, especially without being given a voice for her own opinions.

“I’m going to bring the walls of Aingaard down around Sidian’s head. Take her to the ruins of Ipn Shal and await my return. Spirits willing, the tide of this foul war will shift to our favor.”

“Do your chosen few know who they are yet?”

The wizard shook his head. “No, but they have already come together. They’ve fought and bled as one. Always a good way to start the bonding process for such an adventure.”

“I hope they manage to survive long enough for your purposes, wizard. How well do you think they’ll handle traveling into the dark land?”

“Not so well as a Goblin, perhaps, but one has already made up his mind. Free choice is what we fight for and that is a powerful enemy to contend with.”

“A journey into Gren is hard regardless. When do you want us to claim the girl?”

“Claim is such a terrible word. Almost fitting of Gren. Come in the morning after breakfast. None of us like to travel on an empty stomach.”

The first man laughed. “You do look as though you’ve lost a few pounds.”

“Nuts and berries are hardly enough to sustain a man of my stature. I need a healthy plate of meat and potatoes before I starve away.”

“In the morning then. We will be there to escort your young friend to the keep. Farewell wizard.”

Hoof beats told Tarren the meeting was over so she scurried back to the campsite. The pony still wasn’t back, and she hadn’t the slightest idea where he was. She wanted to worry but there were too many things happening for that. She didn’t know who was coming to get her or who was trying to get rid of her. Too many unknowns lurked in the night for her liking. Tarren clutched the small dagger she’d brought from home to her chest and told herself she was going to stay awake through the night.

She was asleep in five minutes.

Winter doves cooed from the treetops, unconcerned with what was playing out on the ground. Six men rode into the campsite, most with their weapons at the ready and scanning for signs of the enemy. Spear tips rose above their heads, gleaming in the early light. Each wore long hair in tight braids, held back by golden braids with different colored gemstones embedded in them.

“Apparently she likes to sleep late,” one of them smirked.

A crow cawed. Tarren stirred from the sound but didn’t wake.

“I don’t like the feel of this.”

The lead rider eased closer to the sleeping girl.

“Wake her. The Goblins are closer than yesterday and I want to be away before they discover us.”

Tarren clutched her dagger tighter and listened to everything they said. Of a sudden she jumped up and aimed her dagger at the heart of the nearest man. Her eyes flew wide at the strange sight looking back at her. Half man and half horse, they stood in a loose semi-circle.

“You have no need of that with us, young lady. We are all friends here,” the leader told her.

Tarren recognized his voice from last night. And the dagger stayed where it was.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what’s going on. Goblins be damned.”

“I like her already,” the Centaur with the dagger aimed at his chest smiled.

“Enough, Beal. We don’t have the time for this. I am Ris Kaverling and my brothers and I have been assigned to protect you for as long as able.”

As much as she was looking forward to speaking to another person, Tarren wasn’t about to drop her guard just because a mythical beast told her he was going to keep her safe. She thought of Delin and Fennic and wondered where they were, or even if they were all on the same paths. If she went the wrong way, she might never find her love again.

“Well, Ris Kaverling, I have no need of your assistance and no desire to go to this Ipn Shal,” she said forcefully.

Ris cocked an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”

“I heard you last night. You and that wizard. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’ll not be carried away from my course.”

Ris eased forward. “Your life is precisely the reason we’ve come. There is great danger coming towards us. We need to be gone before the Goblins arrive. Tarren, please. Listen to me. I have given my word to a friend that no harm shall befall you while I draw breath. Would you have that trust shattered for childish fears?”

“A promise made without my consent. I am my own woman. This wizard friend, whom I never met, holds no sway over me, nor do you and your kin. Go away and let me about my business.”

He admired Tarren’s independence, but this was no time for stubbornness. His life was at risk right with hers. A change of tactics was required.

“Very well, Tarren Brickton. I shall leave you, though I warn you that your life is in forfeit soon. Goblins have been hunting you for weeks now. They won’t stop until they catch you. They’ll come on you when you least expect and steal you away to their dark master in the land of Gren. But the choice is yours, as you so kindly remind us. I leave you now.”

She suddenly wasn’t so sure. The Centaur appeared likable enough, and he did have concerns for her well being. Still, she and the pony had done well enough on their own. If only he was here now. Come to think of it, Tarren hadn’t seen him since she went to sleep the night before.

A dark bearded Centaur came galloping into the campsite, a cloud of dust chasing him. A half empty quiver was strapped over his leather jerkin. Dark blood stained his powerful flank.

“Goblins,” he hissed in warning.

Ris walked to his friend. “What happened?”

“They came upon me from the south, though I do not believe they knew I was there. I killed five and fled. They are numbered well over a hundred and heading this way fast. I tried to lose them but they are driven.”

Strong as his band was, Ris knew they were no match for a force so large. He turned to Tarren and asked, “well, Ms. Brickton, what shall is be? I cannot protect you like this.”

A deep horn bellowed through the trees. The Goblins had come.

TWENTY-EIGHT

The sound of the horn was enough to strike fear through Tarren’s soul. She’d never heard such a vile and demanding sound. And now that she had, never wanted to again.

Confused and alone, she wanted her pony back more than anything. Tarren could hear the Goblins now. The clank and rustle of armor and mail running through the trees coming to kill her.

“Decide quickly,” Ris demanded. “Time has left us.”

His brothers formed a solid line, arrows smoothly knocked. Their sharp eyes watched the trees in anticipation. At least six more Goblins were going to die before this was done. Tarren reached a hand out to her appointed guardian.

“I accept,” she politely said with a trace of fear in her words.

Ris effortlessly pulled her on his back. “The company is much appreciated. We ride.”

A series of successive thrums told her the first round was away. Several grunts followed and then heavy crashes. Tarren knew someone was dying. Six more arrows sped true. Ris whistled and they turned and fled. Goblins broke into the open with axes and cudgels waving menacingly overhead.

Tarren risked a glance back. Her fears were realized at the sight of them. She’d never seen a Goblin before. Their stout, gray bodies stunk of malice and waste. Wicked teeth poked up and down, too large to fit in their mouths. Tarren felt hatred seething from their looks. She buried her face into the Centaurs strong back and didn’t look back. The gap quickly widened.

She guessed they ran nonstop for close to an hour. The smell of sweat and energy mingled as one, at once revolting and intoxicating. Ris finally held up his arm and the company slowed to a trot. For Tarren, there was no going back. Her fate was solely in their hands now.

Ris let her off so she could catch her breath. Her legs felt wobbly and her heart was pounding. It was the first time she’d been in danger of losing her life. Two of the Centaurs doubled back and disappeared. Tarren knew nothing of warfare or tactics but was smart enough to figure out the pair were searching for signs of pursuit. Her stomach growled. She’d forgotten they hadn’t eaten yet, and it was nigh on midday. She blushed when she noticed Ris smiling down at her. He wordlessly handed her a pack with some old bread and the last bit of cheese.

“What now?” she asked between bites.

Ris stretched his arms. “Providing the way is clear, we start the trek to Ipn Shal. Winter isn’t far off and I’d as soon get there before the snows come. The way is perilous enough in good weather.”

“What is this Ipn Shal place? I’ve never heard of it before,” she admitted.

“It was once the fortress home of the order of Mages. Those born with the talent came from all parts of Malweir to learn and develop their crafts. Life was simpler back then. The Mages worked in concert to better all races,” he told her.

She stared at him wide eyed. “You can’t be that old? We’ve heard stories about the Mages and how long ago the world fell into war. That must have been a hundred years ago.”

“Almost four hundred,” he said. “And no, I was nowhere close to being born. My grandsire lived through those times and passed down what he was forced to endure. I think that will be the only thing to save us. Our understanding of the past.”

“It is said the Silver Mage first learned the dark arts and slowly subjugated others to his fell cause deep in the underbelly of the fortress. A great war arose between good and evil, and the world took sides. Many of the mages were killed in but one night and Ipn Shal came down around them. That was the beginning of the dark times. Today the keep is all but a forgotten ruin in an abandoned part of the land.”

“Have you ever been there?”

Tarren had always been fascinated by the lore and lure of magic and the grand age of magery. She often imagined herself in flowing robes and gowns of the finest silks as she danced across marbled floors in grand ballrooms. It was an alien concept, her living in a small town practically no one had heard of. Ris saw the dreamy look in her eyes and it warmed him. There was so much violence and mayhem in the world her brand of innocence was reassuring.

“Once,” he replied. “The landscape is inhospitable now. Ruined by magic and warped beyond sustaining life. There are several abandoned towns along the way. They say the people fled during the war. Now nothing is safe. Everything north of Thuil Lake was des-toyed by the mages. The ground is broken and unstable. Much of it is hardened rock, sharp and jagged. There is no vegetation anymore and the very water was turned to sulfur. The last livable town is called Braem. Fair enough as far as Men go, but I will not set foot within its boundaries. That will be our last chance for getting supplies and good sleep before we reach the ruins.”

He tossed the apple core he was nibbling on away and continued. “The people of Braem seem friendly enough, but our races have never been comfortable with each other.”

Tarren didn’t know what to think. She was lost. Goblins and Mages. Centaurs and wars of unimaginable devastation. It was almost too much for her. Life was a simple thing, only she was suddenly finding out differently. She finished her meager meal and thanked him politely. It was then she realized there was no turning back. Delin and Fennic were going to have to wait. Destiny had chosen her for a different task.

“How long will it take to reach Braem?” she asked him and thus resigned herself to the present course.

“Four days if I reckon right. I’m not too familiar with this part of Averon but we’re far enough north of Alloenis to give me a good idea. Braem will be there regardless of when we arrive. We need to concern ourselves with the Goblins and other foul creatures in league with Gren.”

“I’m not so sure I like the sound of that,” she confided.

Ris sympathized with her. “Goblins are spread across the continent and beyond. Those behind us have been blooded and will not stop easily. They will kill us or we them. It is the way of things. Fear not, we will keep you safe.’