Armies of the Silver Mage (4 page)

* * *

The moon had barely risen, leaving most of Averon lost in the darkness. The people of Fel Darrins were nestled away in their beds, save those few sturdy hands finishing their ale and talking of the days to come. A handful of militia armed with pitchforks and the occasional sword marched up and down the main road of the village. They were far from being called a soldier, but times were growing more desperate and necessity urged protection. So the husbands and fathers of the village offered their nights in exchange for keeping their loved ones safe. Anyone who’s ever served in an army or militia knows how tedious guard duty is. Endless hours of watching shadows in the hopes that you don’t fall asleep or that the shifts go easily without incident. Tonight was no different from any other night in the ancient tradition of soldiering.

Three two man teams constantly circled the village streets, all the while hoping they didn’t come across anything out of the ordinary. Fel Darrins wasn’t big as villages go, with a population of less than a thousand, but the people were proud and determined. The dangers provided at the hands of the Silver Mage and his armies of Trolls, Goblins and other foul creatures known only to legend and myth were hundreds of leagues away. Still, no one was willing to take the risk of being caught defenseless. If times were so dark as to bring King Maelor’s emissaries all the way to Fel Darrins the village needed strong men to watch the night. All knew that wars and battles were often fought and won far from the main cities. So long as Averon was at war, the men of Fel Darrins were going to do their part. No matter how far away, they were still a part of the kingdom.

Jeck Trile and Agen Reins were moving down the business alley, named so for the handful of shops and tinker’s huts lining the way. They talked quietly as they walked, trying to alleviate some of their growing boredom. This was just their third night on the job and it had already grown monotonous. Working all day and a few hours during the middle of the night was beginning to take a toll.

Jeck and Agen talked and carried on with their route, paying little attention to the sleepy town and her secrets. Thus it was that they failed to notice the trio of cumbersome figures shuffling through the shadows. Quiet and unimposing, they went at a measured pace in soundless, precise movements. None of them spoke, instead hissing subtle signs. The lead shadow sniffed the guards and held his comrades up. Burrowing deeper into the darkness, the creatures watched the guards pass.

No one knew how long they’d been stalking the quiet village, but their mission was unmistakable. The old, one arm man was just the first step. They’d been told he possessed a mighty sword and had been ordered to retrieve it. His death was as much of a pleasure as necessity. Content the two guards had passed without detecting them, the trio continued their quest.

* * *

Delin Kerny pulled his hat down over his naturally curly, brown hair with a frown, still unsure if what they were doing was the right thing. The part of him that always wanted to see what was beyond the sunset and the mighty forest of Relin Werd suddenly found himself loathe to do so. His whole life had been spent wondering, wishing what if. He always saw himself as a soldier in the service of the king, or a high priced mercenary gallivanting around Averon and the surrounding kingdoms to save helpless victims from doom and despair. Recent events shattered those fantasies, throwing everything once dear into broken misconceptions.

The world, once bright and carefree, was become dark and foreboding. He still didn’t want to leave the relative security of Fel Darrins, but times were far from being safe. People whispered of strange creatures stalking the night. Some of the guards had caught sight of them from time to time. But always when they gave chase the creatures disappeared back to shadow. Then it happened. A lone man stumbled from the tavern, drunk beyond measure and was never seen again.

The disappearance compounded the growing fears of Delin’s family being next. He had no choice but to go with Fennic now. The last thing he wanted was to see his mother or father torn to pieces at the hands of some ruthless killer in the dark hours of the night. He simply had no choice. Delin regretted their chance encounter with the old man of the Werd and wished it had never happened. He cursed his luck and at that moment made up his mind. He and Fennic had to get as far away as possible to ensure the safety of all that they knew and loved. Not even his burgeoning love for Tarren was enough to keep him here.

Dawn was cresting the southern mountains in shades of purple and blue. Still far from breaking the clouds, the sun was already stealing the chill from Delin’s bones as he waited Fennic. A song bird lazily chirped from atop a nearby brush, as if encouraging the lad to keep his head up. Delin watched the red and white bird and sighed. If only, he wished. Footsteps behind interrupted his somber mood.

“Don’t you stand there with your mouth open, Delin Kerny,” Tarren scolded in a soft voice. “I didn’t get up this early in the morning to see you make a fool of yourself.”

She rushed into his arms before he could say a single word, holding him as tight as she could out of fear of letting him go. He closed his eyes to fight back the tears before giving Fennic the same look.

“Don’t look at me like that either,” Fennic said in his defense. “She didn’t leave me with much of a choice. I found her waiting outside my door when I snuck out.”

He still wasn’t sure how she found out about their change of plans from leaving at night to the morning. Common sense, he supposed. No one wanted to chance the night with those things out there. The look in her eye warned Fennic from saying too much. He wasn’t very wise when it came to women and their beguiling ways, but he knew enough to keep his mouth shut.

Tarren, on the other hand, was doing everything she could to fight back the tears threatening to break loose. She didn’t want Delin’s last memory of her to be one of sadness. The road ahead was going to be long and arduous she was sure, and she wanted Delin to be strong. Still, the dreams of a long and happy life seemed to rip from her heart the longer she held him. Tarren forced a laugh.

“Tarren, I…” Delin began before she silenced him with a soft finger to his lips.

“I know,” she said. “But I wasn’t about to let you sneak off without saying goodbye.

Besides, I know you, and in knowing that I’m betting you didn’t pack half of the things you’re going to need on this adventure.”

Cheeks turning a dark red, Delin accepted the pack with a mumbled thanks. His thoughts were anywhere but on the contents of the pack. He desperately wanted to profess his love for her but didn’t want to break the spell. It took great courage for her to step to him the way she had. Delin wasn’t about to undermine her inner strength with a moment of his own weakness.

Tarren leaned forward and kiss his cheek. “You’d best be getting on. It looks like it’s going to be a good day. Well enough for the two of you to get as far as you can without trouble.” Her voice waivered. “I don’t like what you’re doing and don’t really know why, but I say this too. Bring yourself home to me Delin Kerny. Bring yourself home to the one who loves you.”

That was the first time the barrier was breached. He tried to respond in kind but found himself softly kissing her tender lips. Euphoria swelled his chest and he felt ready to take on the world. The look in her eyes strengthened his resolve. He knew that his heart was forever hers and was going to do everything in his power to come home again. Satisfied, Tarren ended her kiss and walked away before her strength failed her. She didn’t want him to see her crying. Fennic placed a comforting hand on Delin’s shoulder and nodded. It was time. Hefting their packs, the two boys said their farewells to Fel Darrins and began the journey of their lives.

FIVE

Strong winds ravaged the rocky terrain, funneling through the mountain passes and picking up speed and intensity before unleashing across the open slopes of the Gren Mountains. Dark skies kept the air damp and dour enough for the intruders to quickly lose hope and return the way they had come. Intruders that is except for the three mounted soldiers silently riding through the lower foothills of the eastern range. Black and purple skies laden with thunderstorms kept the sun perpetually hidden here. Lightning raked the slopes around them, warning them to turn back lest the hour grew too late. A thunderclap trembled the ground.

“We should turn back!” one of the soldiers shouted.

Hallis ignored him, noting how quickly the young and inexperienced trooper was ready to give up. The land of Gren had been besieged by nature since the Silver Mage first took power, over two hundred years ago. It was rumored that Gren was once a gilded land of different name, but history was forgotten in response to the great evil threatening the world. Hallis himself had joined the army of Averon out of necessity. A flux swept through the kingdom, claiming hundreds, including his parents. Having nothing to keep him at home, Hallis left to join the army.

He reached the rank of sergeant and was nearing the end of his third decade of service. Most of his duty had been spent on the wrong side of the Gren Mountains, scouting and spying on enemy movements. It was a learned skill that was almost second nature to him. He barely noticed the weather anymore. Normally he wouldn’t have taken such a green trooper, but there was little choice. Despite years of waiting, the army of Averon wasn’t prepared for the war everyone knew was coming. There just wasn’t enough time to get ready.

“Keep quiet and watch me, Troop,” Hallis barked at the lad. He wanted to say more but knew it was useless. This was the boy’s first mission and no amount of class work or indoctrination was enough to prepare him for the horrors surrounding them.

Flames pockmarked the landscape as far as the eye could see. Scrub brushes void of greenery were the last remnants of a pristine empire. All of the Fair races fled west after a brutal campaign to oust the Silver Mage was lost. Nothing now grew upon the soiled Plains. Nothing lived in the fetid waters. The mountains were filled with hordes of Trolls and worse. Goblins and other foul beings lived in the low country, dwelling in vast underground caverns. Hallis knew they were being watched even now.

Most patrols were fielded with the instructions of monitoring only. King Maelor had been concerned with enemy movements and troop build ups for years now and was eager to learn the disposition of his foe. For Hallis, this patrol was unlike any other. Three separate patrols had been sent out the week prior and none returned. Concern was rising that the enemy was at last ready to move. He’d accepted the task because it was a soldier’s duty to follow orders, whether he liked them or not. What he didn’t accept were the men assigned to him. His complaints fell on deaf ears and three short days later they were inside the realm of the enemy. The third scout reined in close to Hallis and said in a low voice, “do you think he may be right?”

Hallis finished a hasty drink from his canteen. “I’ve been thinking that since we left Gren Mot, Jinse.”

Older than Hallis, Jinse offered a weak laugh. “So have I. We shouldn’t be on the same patrol, at any rate. What good would it do for both of us to get killed at the same time?”

“Orders are orders,” Hallis answered.

His friend picked up on the meaning even as the words left his mouth. They both knew the garrison commander at the mountain fortress was an intolerable man who expected his subordinates to obey his every command without question. Jinse also knew that Hallis had been around long enough to put the lives of his men first. The rest of Averon may still be safe behind the illusion of peace, but combat was very real here on the borders.

“We should have seen signs by now,” Hallis scowled after they rode another hour. “I don’t like this at all.”

Lightning and thunder emphasized his point.

“The winds are picking up,” Jinse remarked. “This is getting dangerous.”

Hallis smiled. “It’ll make the ale that much better when we get back.”

He was going to say more when they rounded a corner and came face to face with a vast plain, normally empty. His eyes widened in horror at what he now saw. Thousands of campfires and campaign tents stretched as far as they could see and into the darkness beyond. Squat, grey bodies in leather armor blanketed every inch of the land. Hallis just barely made out enormous creatures pulling siege machines closer. He’d seen and fought Trolls and Goblins before, but had never imagined an army so large. The people of Averon long believed the impending war was inevitable. Not even the king’s top advisors could predict when though. Hallis stared at the answer and the fear that came with it.

“This isn’t good,” Jinse said, his throat suddenly dry.

Hallis sat still and watched. He’d already given up trying to count. The rookie didn’t fare so well. Barely past his teen years, the troopers was on the verge of snapping. Never in his days did he actually expect to go to war. Yet here he sat, locked on the brink of a fate inescapable. Doom was returned to the world of men. The veterans noticed his wild look and moved to keep him from doing something brash.

A lightning bolt blasted a nearby rock into a shower of sparks and pebbles, spooking all of their horses. The rookie was thrown into a boulder before his horse ran off in the direction of the Goblin camp. Jinse was the first to recover and desperately dashed after the horse before it was too late. Hallis immediately went to his fallen trooper. He was halfway there when Fate intervened.

Black arrows rained down on the fallen trooper, killing him instantly a dozen times over. Hallis snatched his shield in a useless effort, for the enemy was on both sides. The assault ended with a horrible roar from the rocks above. A Mountain Troll burst from cover, mighty war hammer in hand and squads of Goblins at his heels. Hallis was cut off. Jinse wheeled about and drew his sword. The odds were against them and they knew it. Then Jinse did something Hallis didn’t expect. The grizzled old veteran roared back at the Troll and charged into their ranks.