Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus) (26 page)

Garosh had asked for one hundred of the intelligent werebeasts. Both wolves and mountain cats had been merged with men by some researcher in a past time when the emperor was conquering his old
world. Palose knew some of the stories of the world of elves and dwarves from the books of man, and in between spell books he had found a few more books on the history of both Ensolus and the creatures that had come to make it their home. That the were-creatures were originally created from elves, orcs and the occasional troll was known, though he had found little more than that so far.

Still the wolves and lions made most of the other races uneasy, even though they were supposed to be nearly as intelligent as most men. The two hundred additional soldiers primarily made up of orcs and humans looked at the beasts uncomfortably, but dealing with such creatures was common enough that they tried their best to avoid any conflict with them. The last group joining the exodus was a hundred twenty warlocks and wizards of which three dozen were the black armored Wizard Hunters. These would be the bane of Southwall’s armies as most could use the darkness shields and assorted magic of that line to nullify their elemental spells.

Palose wondered if he should feel sorry for his former home, but the most that he could drum up was a bit of pity. If the battle was fought well, it would be a one sided blood bath. Of course, Garosh’s ability to lead had been questioned by Kolban, but he had a feeling that much of that was the emperor’s way of motivating people or at least the giant in particular. Still, Southwall’s officers could surprise him, but for this battle Palose sensed a defeat.

Within the crowd, the mage spotted Sylvaine. The girl sought him with her eyes knowing that he was one of the portal team. With two portal chambers in operation, there had been a chance that she would have gone through without his seeing her, but he found her violet eyes exchanging a brief smile. Noticing her hand clenching the upper part of her tunic, when the girl gave him a relieved nod Palose knew that she held the touchstone even without having to use his magic.

A much taller woman, wearing a black cloak and dark gray clothing beneath, prodded the apprentice forward with barely a glance to notice the girl’s preoccupation. They were separated from the bulk of the wizards which meant her mistress felt the need to herd her apprentice forward as they awaited the portal’s opening.

“Get ready, boy, here come the sacrifices for the portal,” Atrouseon stated from behind his apprentice.

Palose watched as a handful of goblins and orcs were pulled in chains to a pair of altars standing to either side of the usual gateway. While smaller gates could be opened and held for a time without bloodshed, moving hundreds through space over the extra time required great power. Unfortunately for these five, their lives would be required for the massive spell.

Gathering in two circles of five wizards with two more binding the blood sacrifices, Palose prepared to be led in the greater magic. What had become simple for the mage, with both his practice and his time on portal duty, was now something that was new to him. He had used the blood of a few Southwallers to open the gate into Windmeer, but even then it had been through his own casting that it had happened.

The chanting began and screaming as well as two of the victims were pierced with the special daggers used for the ritual. Palose blocked out the sounds locking into his chant maintaining the pace set by the assembled warlocks. As the blood followed the channels created in the stone, a large gate opened. The blood from each altar met at the center beneath the glowing light transferring the power found in the lives of victims into the spell.

Soldiers, beasts and wizards began to move through the glowing opening in preordered lines. Ensolus had been using the gates for so long that few looked nervous to be sending their bodies across the world in a blink. While he had never heard of anyone being lost in the transfer, the mage would have thought that there had to be mistakes along the way to creating such magic. Most would say a few lost lives to create such a miracle were worth it. It was the way of wizards, even in Southwall, to see sacrifices to perfect their art.

Like a used up keg, the first victims were tossed aside by the men at the altar. The next pair was pulled screaming onto the stone, even bothering to try fighting back. A spell from the assistants stunned the orcs long enough to secure them, but they were completely conscious as the daggers sunk slowly into them drawing out the pain and life force to continue the gate.

More than half of the troops had passed through by then, but Palose was unable to see that. All he knew were the chanting and his part in the magic. Though he had seen what had happened at the altar, it was like he was watching from afar off and not from within his body. Their pain and fear meant nothing in the pull of the magic. He was merely the tool along with the others and his consciousness was dulled unlike in a normal gateway spell.

Time passed without form. It could have been quick or slow, but his mind was unable to tell the difference, but then it was done.

Palose noticed the lone survivor of the victims brought to the chamber. Those in the chamber of the slaying released the goblin’s chains telling him that he had been spared by the gods and to go home. Not needing to be told twice, the small creature ran from the gate chamber praising the gods all the way.

What the gods had to do with any of it, Palose didn’t know. Magic might have come from the gods or simply been a part of the world and the creatures within since the creation of life. He didn’t know for sure and if someone told him what they believed to be the truth, the mage was unsure he would believe even then. Whatever the source and whoever had left the goblin alive, it didn’t matter anymore.

“You can go study or train, Palose. There are no more gates assigned for the day,” Atrouseon said looking a little pale. Either the spell drained the warlock more than it had Palose or the killing had worried the man’s stomach, his apprentice thought keeping his face clear of the sentiment.

Feeling no ill affects, Palose hurried off picking up the satchel holding his books, but instead of going directly to the library, he turned to the east. After turning south then east again, the mage called up his stealth spell and waited. He had felt a presence following him, but the battle mage hadn’t been able to find the source.

After waiting a minute leaning against the building while remaining invisible, Palose could sense the one he had felt. While in the stealth spell, his eyes could not see as the light bent around him obscuring the world as much as he was from it, but the spell heightened his other senses and even copied the sight of his eyes in a fuzzy, black and white vision in his mind.

The figure slowed looking for him and only then did he realize that there was a second person accompanying the first. His sense of smell caught the scent of a flowery perfume that would have given her away even without his stealth vision compensating.

Releasing his stealth spell caused both of the young teenagers to jump as he asked, “To what do I owe this attention?”

“Air spear!” Lanquer cried out instinctively almost making his teacher proud. Had he not been followed and annoyed by that, Palose probably would be.

Stepping into Lanquer’s reach, the mage touched his finger to the boy’s jacket ordering, “Stone skin.”

Contained to just the leather jacket, Lanquer found his arms trapped in an instant. Unable to use his air spear, the wavering shaft disappeared moments before Palose released his spell in turn. Acheri’s giggling laughter made her guardsman turn red in embarrassment.

Lanquer said nothing while he waited for the girl and simply straightened his jacket trying to look more at ease despite Acheri’s happiness at his expense. For all the fact that they were both essentially siblings to the emperor, they all knew he was the reject and she the favored sister.

At Palose’s apparent annoyance at their following of him, Acheri finally stopped laughing to answer with another question, “Have you started using the information in ‘True Power’ already? Atrouseon looked quite weakened after the blood spell, while you look as strong as ever.”

Surprise crossed his face as the mage realized that he hadn’t imagined his master looked drained, but he had chalked it up to the man shouldering a bit more than he. If they had been watching, perhaps Acheri’s eyes had caught something that Palose hadn’t realized that he had been doing. “If I managed to drain some of Atrouseon’s power, it was by accident. I didn’t use any of what the book mentioned. Have you read it?”

The girl shook her head still holding a bemused smile on her lips. “I am only a few weeks old. Reading in the library isn’t necessarily my priority, even if I do enjoy pestering you there.” At his eyes questioning her words, Acheri stated, “Oh, I know that you find my teasing annoying at times, but I can’t help it anymore than you can hide that it gets to you.”

Laughing at him again, Acheri started when Palose interrupted her revelry questioning the first topic, “Was it Atrouseon’s weakness or your need to tease me that made you follow?”

Lanquer tensed at the mage’s dismissive words. Acheri was the princess. Should anyone find a way too actually kill Kolban for good, the girl was the one who would lead the empire. Talking to her like she was a servant or waitress in a tavern was likely to bring punishment normally, but Palose was the master in their relationship. He taught and Lanquer tried to learn, so they were on entirely different levels even if the boy did hold more power than his teacher did.  

  Despite his tone, Acheri continued to smile and even moved to grab his arm. It was a similar gesture to the one Sylvaine had used on their walk to his hideout. Somehow despite this girl’s beauty and attempt to win him over with charm, Palose found that he continued to not be able to trust her. Garosh had even warned him not to trust the siblings after all, and that man was virtually a stranger giving him advice.

“You are our friend, Palose. Can’t I be concerned when I see your master looking worn down from such an easy spell?” the girl asked sticking out her lower lip in a pouty way.

“I doubt it,” he said trying to turn her joking back sarcastically.

Raising her brow inquisitively, Acheri responded, “Humor doesn’t become you, does it?

“Well, then if you didn’t affect Atrouseon, then asking you about it does us little good. Kolban would have bid me ask into it, since he still has an interest in you.”

  “Why does the emperor have an interest in me? I am nothing but a resurrection man,” Palose said evenly and without remorse or anger. He felt little pain or anger at being what he was. To his mind, the mage did owe Atrouseon his life after all.

People walked in the street, but the three ignored them as most would avoid butting into others’ business. The only people who interfered did so for their own sake in Ensolus, but these three standing and talking had nothing of value for the common pedestrian to think of listening in and they would have been noticed easily anyway.

Acheri’s normal humor, which hid a darker, stronger part of her, was gone or at least held at bay. “Just a resurrection man? To my eyes and his, you have exceeded that name far beyond the others. Most resurrection men turned into little more than animals and most hated their masters to the point of trying to kill them the moment the necromancer turned his back. Wraiths and skeletal men serve blindly, even when given intelligence and autonomy like Garosh’s servants, but resurrection men need to be bound in strict runes to keep them in line.

“From what I have heard, Atrouseon is a good necromancer, but I doubt that he is perfect in his casting. At least he is no better than those who have tried in the past, but here you are. If you have hatred for your master, you have never shown it. His death would give you his power, but you haven’t taken it.
Either you are very patient, which no resurrection man has been before, or you truly don’t care. Which is it?” The girl’s eyes turned curious and she searched his face trying to penetrate his calm visage.

“I owe Atrouseon my life, such as it may be,” Palose cited the words faithfully. He meant them as well, even if he still foresaw the eventuality of needing his master removed. Atrouseon was far from strict in his treatment of the mage, in fact, as a student of White Hall he had far less freedom. Whether the warlock did so to maintain some distance from his creation out of the need for his own safety or not made little difference to Palose. The relationship had benefited them both and he had no strange compunction to go on some killing spree as apparently his predecessors had. “He gives me freedom to learn and be my own man. I have duties to perform as an apprentice, but they aren’t unrealistic. Why would I need to kill him? I have more power than when I was a mage in Southwall, so even that is an added bonus.”

The girl’s face lit up and she quickly followed up on something he said, “He had you turn against Southwall. Didn’t that make you angry, Palose?”

Shrugging, the mage replied, “I owed Ensolus my life and even a favor to betray my former country wasn’t beyond my repayment. Besides, when Southwall abandoned me to die alone, it was Ensolus which saved me.”

Giggling at him as if what he had said had been meant as a joke she spread her hands gesturing to him. “They left you for dead, because you were dead. They don’t use the dark arts, so you were just a sack of blood and bones to them. You say you were alone, but the reports I heard said there was another man with you when you died.”

It was Palose’s turn to frown at her words. How had the girl heard about his last day? Was his existence truly that interesting to the emperor that he had shared his background all the way to the point of his last day before he died and was reborn?

“I was with a mage buying time for the remainder of our scouting group.”

“The mage that you keep talking about, the one who will change all of Southwall’s capabilities as he improves the battle mages and maybe even the wizards, he was the one with you when you died?” Acheri asked pressuring the man to reveal something he had not said in any of the debriefings. No one had thought to ask, so Palose hadn’t bothered to volunteer information that would be useful to anyone.

He nodded.

“Do you hate him for leaving you?”

Thinking a moment on how he viewed Sebastian, a cadet who had been in the same situation as he, though leadership had been thrust on the mizard in that circumstance. The two had been the only magic casters left healthy enough to slow the enemy and have a chance to escape. It would have worked if Atrouseon and the other warlocks, along with their werewolves, hadn’t been there to keep pace despite Sebastian having leant his magic to the horses they rode to continue running for what seemed like a full day. A fireball from the pursuing warlocks had caused his horse to stumble as he moved from a flagging animal to his spare. The fall had broken his neck; he thought suddenly rubbing the base subconsciously. There was nothing the battle mage could have done with the enemy chasing them. He knew how to heal, but the enemy wouldn’t give him the time.

“I thought that I hated him,” Palose confessed thinking back to that day in the halls beneath Windmeer. Not only had he cheered on the beasts trying to kill the mage, but he had given the order to finish him off. He had done so with revenge in his heart, just like he wanted Windmeer to suffer as he had for the country. “He couldn’t have saved me, so I guess that has died away too. Ensolus gives me a place to grow and one day I might gain the power that I can see just beyond my fingers.”

Looking at the two before him, even with their power suppressed, his eyes could see the magic like threads on their skin which could be pulled into him. He noted Acheri’s face looking at him curiously as if his eyes had betrayed him in some way.

“Kolban wants to see you grow into that power. Believe it or not he does, and I certainly would like to see you get your rewards,” the girl stated with a smile. “Keep up with your research and perhaps someday that power will be yours.”

As if the conversation were suddenly over having been fulfilled; Acheri added, “I have other obligations required of me besides overseeing the exodus to the fortress, but we will see you tomorrow morning for Lanquer’s training, won’t we?”

“Of course, my lady,” Palose stated faithfully with a slight bow of his head which made Lanquer look satisfied, but made the girl giggle covering her mouth with her fingers as if she were shy.

“It’s ‘my lady’ now? You can always call me Acheri, mage,” she said turning formally to his old title. “We’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Palose was left to consider what he had been forced to give away. None of the secrets were significant, but one thing came back to his mind that had surprised even him. While he had felt the need for revenge against Southwall and Sebastian for abandoning him to die, his memories told him that there had been nothing left to save. He had died, which led to his return by Atrouseon, a rare necromancer who had been visiting one of the tribes of nomads under the emperor’s thumb. His new life had been given and he had done his duty to Ensolus in giving up the castle.

Feeling for that anger and need for revenge he once felt, Palose realized that it was all gone. He didn’t feel a need to return to Southwall. He would have been labeled a traitor anyway, so that was not likely to be possible at least where he was known. No, Ensolus was already beginning to feel like home and his new power was leading towards a possible position of greatness. The emperor was watching over him, for good or ill. Who else could say as much?

He hurried east drawing his stealth spell for awhile before reaching heavier traffic near the orc markets. If he hurried to his home, the mage could still travel several miles before going to the library. A
sudden thought of Sylvaine sent so far away, and Selvor as well, crept into his mind and he wondered why he still felt the need to hurry back.

Shaking the thought aside, Palose found his way back to the hideout and put on his heavy jacket and gloves before using a portal once more.

Snow was on the air as Palose stood on the final hill looking out on Windmeer’s walls. Sylvaine and the rest of Ensolus’s forces had left two days beforehand and though he could have finished walking down to the city two days ago, the mage had returned to stand looking down on the fortress city and its villages to the south each day.

Today was different from the previous two. Today a shadowed line created by hundreds of horses’ hooves in the snow led straight up his hill extending behind him becoming lost after climbing each successive rise. Windmeer was on the move and it took little for him to guess their goal. He left his touchstone on the hill and started down through the trampled snow towards the castle. With more than half their standing army on their way to the mountain fortress, the guardian city wouldn’t be expecting someone like him to return home from the same path.

The mage made good time thanks to the trampled snow which was also measurably lower than in the mountains. While the clouds overhead made it hard to determine the time of day, Palose knew that, as he entered the village market, he still had a couple hours that he could expend without anyone growing suspicious in Ensolus.

From his time in the city last summer, Palose knew of the merchants and of a particular one he had come to see. Though he had never had any reason to visit a money lender with being in the mage corps, the young man had discovered the business during one of his trips into the village sight seeing. It had just been his way of getting to know an area when he had found it, but now he had a purpose there.

The man in charge of the small store looked up as a bell above the door chimed cheerfully as the mage entered the room. Of middle age and starting to gray at the temples, his face looked less weathered than a farmer’s but he was still old to the nineteen year old boy’s eyes. His gray eyes seemed to give a clue as to the future of the man’s eventual hair coloring.

“Good afternoon, young man,” the shop owner greeted cheerfully enough. He had looked bored and had probably seen fewer patrons as the winter wore on and merchants appeared less often. Like anything in the northern city, things shut down or at least slowed down during winter.

“Good afternoon. Are you still able to trade coin for gold?” he asked getting straight to business.

“Of course,” the merchant answered easily. “I don’t carry as much coin during the winter in the shop, since it is often a slower time of year, but most likely I can help you.”

Nodding, Palose produced a small bar of gold. Over the last month he had been preparing for the day the mage returned to the civilization of Southwall. Trying to spend the minted coins of Ensolus was obviously not going to work, so he had taken some of the coins from what he had taken from Atrouseon and had them melted into five small bars. If he had guessed correctly, showing just one would keep him from being noticed should anyone think to look for him. It was a rough piece far from the craftsman’s best, but Palose had asked for rough work to make it appear like he had found a forge and melted something down without having a good mold.

The man frowned over it as Palose expected. He had to check on the quality of the gold before giving a price. If it was low grade gold mixed with other metals, the price would be low or no offer would be made. He had made sure that the coins were of true gold and had them ready as the little blocks for this very moment.

Glancing to the young man before him, the money lender gave him an appraising look that matched the one for the gold. As the man weighed the small bar, he made conversation that went beyond
true small talk. Palose had expected as much. A stranger walking in with a bar of gold was bound to make the man leery. “This bar seems a little strange. Did you melt something down to make it?”

An obvious answer to any gold bar was that something had been melted down, the mage thought, but answered with a small smile pretending to be a merchant’s son. “Our winter supplies are getting low, so my father melted down a couple trinkets into bars just in case. He thought trading in straight gold weight would get him more money than trying to pawn them, so he sent me to get what I can for the bar.”

“You have more than one of these bars?” the merchant asked curiously.

“My father does,” Palose answered with a shrug as if it mattered little to the dutiful son just following his father’s orders. Being able to tell a lie to a stranger wasn’t something everyone could do convincingly, but the mage had been working to commit the back story in his mind so that it came off as truth.

With a small nod, the lender brought the bar back placing it on the counter. “It is of fair grade. I can give you four and half golds in whatever assorted denomination of coins you would like.”

Looking dissatisfied with the answer, Palose replied slowly, “My father was sure that I could get six
golds for the bar. I don’t think it will be enough for him.”

As the young man started to reach for the bar, the merchant placed a hand over it coming back with a quick counter offer, “I can go as high as five gold, though it against my better judgment.”

“Perhaps five and half would keep my father happy,” he retorted with both hands on the counter. There were no smiles now as they moved solidly onto business. While Palose knew the merchant’s price was probably fair, it was always best to see how far they were trying to skew the deal towards their favor.

“Five gold and three silver, but no more,” the man stated looking beaten.

A more experienced haggler might have pushed for more, but Palose took the deal with a nod even so. When it came down to it, this wasn’t his money anyway. Five gold and three silver could pay for meals at most taverns for over a month. More importantly, he was pretty sure that he could get a horse for the next part of his continued trek through the country.

Leaving the shop with a small leather pouch filled with an assortment of copper, silver and gold, the battle mage looked at the city walls to the north wondering if he dared enter Windmeer. After a moment he shook his head, there was nothing for him there. He wouldn’t be able to get much information of any sort about the army most likely, and if he did who would he report it to anyway? This trip was no mission for the emperor and he wasn’t even supposed to be there. No, there was no one he could help by going into the main city, so Palose turned to the market and the stables of the village.

His continuous slow walks would be over, though the mage had more in mind to increase his abilities to cover the country. First, he would price out horses to see if he would need more gold, then he would see to the other plans. Dropping a touchstone behind the first stable yard with a large barn where he thought there was little traffic to be seen, Palose planted the newest seed before finding a stable hand to answer his questions.

Chapter 14- War and Peace

A late winter blizzard had stormed in from the north sealing off the Dimple Mountains from the rest of the world, or so it seemed to Sylvaine as she retreated back into the stone of the fortress each day. They had been there for a little over a week now and stories had been reaching those waiting of two armies making their way towards them. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of Southwall soldiers and
wizards were closing in on them and only the heavy snow and bitter cold had prevented the enemy from making the march to their mountain.

With the destruction deep inside the fortress, half of those who had come to join the fight were stuck outside in tents. The orc and goblin soldiers were the main forces kept outside along with a score of trolls as well as the werewolves and lions who seemed comfortable despite the cold. The latter creatures were quick to leave and slow to return; so when the apprentice left the stifling stone of the fortress, their numbers always seemed to be fluctuating to her eyes.

After the first four days, several of the beasts left permanently. Though some feared the feral side of the creatures had taken them over to just wander off away from the control of their masters, rumors soon made their way through the army. Nearly one hundred of the werebeasts had left splitting into two groups to harass the enemy soldiers. With the blizzard raging for three days, the enemy had been forced to make camp and the wolves and lions would take advantage of their abilities to damage their forces.

Men would die and so would horses, so that when they finally met the army of Ensolus they would already be bloodied and have the fear of his beasts to make them falter. That would be when the warlocks and wizard hunters would show them another reason to be afraid.