Authors: Larry Kollar
“I am Tarnas Wizard-Slayer!” he shouted, as Mik opened the door. “Boy, I have business with your master!”
“Announce me,” said Bailar from behind him, handing him his staff, “then step inside.”
Mik nodded. “The Sorcerer of Exidy, Bailar the Blue!” He struck the step with the staff as he dropped a little pellet, then stepped back under cover of billowing smoke as his mentor took back the staff and stepped forward.
“What is this?” Mik whispered, as he and Sura peeked around the door.
“I don’t know,” Sura whispered back.
“I am unaware of any quarrel I have with you,” Bailar told his visitor. “Have I offended you in some wise?”
“I am sworn to destroy all wizardry!” Tarnas shouted from no more than fifteen feet away.
“Then you have been misdirected,” Bailar explained. “I am a sorcerer, one who harnesses the elements. A wizard is one who attempts to divine the future by magical means… ‘seer’ is the more common word.”
Tarnas scowled. “Mere words! Come out here, wizard, and meet me in mortal combat!”
Bailar shrugged. “You have interrupted my supper, but very well. I presume you, who despises magic, have some magical protection? That amulet about your neck, perhaps?”
Tarnas looked surprised for a moment, then fingered the medallion. “Those of us who hunt wizards must oft protect ourselves from their evil spells, no?”
“He’s protected?” Sura gasped.
“We’ve got to do something!” Mik whispered.
“But what… I know. Out the back door. Hurry.” Sura took his hand and pulled him through the house.
Bailar thumped his staff on the stoop and threw his other hand skyward. An ice dragon soared up and over the tower, then dived at Tarnas.
“Your illusions do not frighten me, wizard!” Tarnas stood, chest thrust forward, to meet it. The dragon obscured him from sight, then disappeared, leaving Tarnas standing.
Bailar scowled and shouted, stretching his hand forward. Fire leaped from his palm, bathing the intruder.
“Your magical fire does not burn me, wizard!” Tarnas stood whole and unsinged before him, although his clothing smoldered. He brushed away an ember.
“Then you leave me no choice,” said Bailar. He drew a large dagger and waved his staff over it, chanting.
“Your enchanted knife will not harm me, wizard!” Tarnas shouted, then looked to his left. “Nor will your apprentices with their orbs.”
“What?” Bailar turned in time to see Sura’s wooden practice ball leap from her hand, hurtling toward Tarnas. Mik simply threw his. Both found their mark: Sura’s caught him in the temple; Mik’s twisted his jaw askew. Tarnas and the balls fell to the ground.
Bailar made his cautious way down the steps and prodded the fallen intruder with his staff. “He’s alive,” he said, turning to his apprentices. “Which is not how I intended to leave him, but there will be fewer questions from Reeve Tanber this way.” He gave them a grim look. “You should not have interfered, though. You could have been killed!”
“
Us
killed?” Mik gave him a wide-eyed look. “You were going to fight him? He’d have struck you down!”
“Likely not.” Bailar shook his head. “The fool was so enamored of his amulet, he would have stood there as I stumbled up to him and let me stab him with what he thought was an enchanted dagger.
“Sura, take my staff. See if you can use it to slip that amulet over his head. But don’t touch it—it will dampen your powers like Fierda’s bracer. Without it, he’s helpless. By the code of combat, his weapons and magic are now ours. Mik, fetch a rope, then go raise the distress banner. I don’t know if anyone will see it at this late hour, but if not? He’ll keep until morning. Once he’s secure, we can finish our lucky man’s supper.”
“I got lucky with that throw,” Mik grinned.
“And we are all lucky to be together,” said Bailar. “As long as we watch out for each other, who can stand against us?”
Common Terms and Phrases
All Points of the Compass
—commonly used to refer to a multi-ethnic group. Some folk use it to describe a person whose ancestry is indeterminate.
The All-Seeing Eye of Bula-Bula
—a humorous reference to the Eyes of Byula, six scrying-stones said to be the eyes of an ancient idol (perhaps predating Camac That Was). Protectors in the farther reaches of Camac’s domain used them to communicate with the capital. The Eyes were lost in The Madness; if any have been recovered, their owners say not. The name became corrupted over time and is now a humorous way of saying someone is watching carefully.
Bowgnoash
—from the goblin-tongue. Its original meaning was “unfit to eat,” but was also used to describe one they wished to disown. Given what is known about dietary and social habits of goblins, anything or anyone considered
bowgnoash
would be extremely repulsive. Over time, it became a rude insult, with “rotten meat” the polite substitute.
Commander
—an officer in command of a battalion, 800–1000 soldiers.
Folk
—(Sorcerers) People not of a magical bent. (Folk) People seen and dealt with regularly.
In the time of Camac that Was
—the traditional beginning of a child’s story or tale.
Lucky man’s supper
—fish, leeks, potatoes. May refer to a “lucky man” bringing home both fish and leeks from the river, thus saving money that would have been spent at the market for food.
Making the wind
—idle chatter, equivalent to Earth’s “shooting the breeze.”
Peace and harmony
—a formal greeting. Through the early Age of Heroes, rivals or enemies used this greeting to offer a temporary truce. Later, it took on more common usage. The expected response is,
And all peace unto you
.
Spread
—the length between outstretched arms, typically 6 feet or 1.8 meters (or three to four cubits).
Striker
—the leader of a “strike,” 10–15 soldiers. Not always a formal rank.
The tide comes in, the tide goes out
—acknowledging that events are beyond one’s control. Similar to Earth’s “roll with the changes.”
Wine fortifies the spine
—a humorous description of drunken bravery.
About the Author
Larry Kollar lives in north Georgia, surrounded by kudzu, trees, and in-laws. His day job involves writing user manuals — some of which may have been fiction, but not by intent. He has had short fictional works published in the Hogglepot Journal, the Were-Traveler, and the
Best of Friday Flash, Vol. 2
anthology. His first novel,
White Pickups
, is available at major eBook outlets. To keep up with his strange fiction, and even stranger reality:
Blog
:
Twitter
: FARfetched58
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• • •
Copyright © 2013 Larry Kollar. All rights reserved.
For republishing permission, please contact the author at [email protected].