Diary of a Conjurer (34 page)

Ivar heard a shout and then saw the arrow
fly. He stood stunned. The dagger was in his hand, light flashing
from it.

“
No!” someone screamed. “You will not kill
my father.”

Daryl laughed and stepped further into the
cave, aiming the beam of light on the men who were working. An
arrow sailed at him tearing through his shirt, his skin. It drove
through his rib cage and pierced his heart.

Daryl cried out and doubled over. Blood
splattered against the cave walls and his knees crumbled beneath
him. He slid onto the ice in a pool of blood. Eyes opened wide, the
archer stood before him, a young man, dark hair, dark eyes. Someone
called his name. “Ian.”

Ivar knew who Ian was. He had heard the
Sage, Alex, talk about his son many times. Ian had been a war hero
who exiled himself so that their world would be spared from
tyranny, from the dragon, and from this boy. This Daryl.

From Ivar.

It felt good to die. The horror was over.
The blood that he had shed, the women and children on the Trail of
Tears, the innocent villages, Adrian, was poured out on the ground
now. Daryl would cause no one else’s death.

But before Ivar closed his eyes he saw
Amleth raise his bow and string a shimmering gold arrow. Ivar
recognize that glow. It was the light of the Dragon Shield; the
magic of the Kaemperns. It was the light that, when stirred by the
Songs of Wisdom, shielded the people from evil.

Amleth aimed his arrow at Ivar’s heart. Their
eyes met. Ivar opened his mouth and cried out. “No. What are you
doing?”

Amleth didn’t hear.

The arrow ran through his body and
penetrated his heart.

He had felt this before- the sensation of
blood rushing to his head, chills racing up his spine, and a warmth
in his lungs, though he was immobile.

The men lifted Daryl in their arms and tied
him to the wolf sled. They carried him home in the storm and when
the boy woke, they gave him a new name. They named him The archer.
Ivar.

“Why?” he asked as he lay against the wall.
“Why would they do that?”

“To torment you.” Hacatine stood over him
now, only half of her mouth curled into a smile. “They want to
punish you, Daryl. They wanted you to feel the living death their
survivors feel. All that you did to their families, they couldn’t
let you just fade away in peace. They raised you up for this day,
to show you the truth. To make you suffer. To punish you.”

Ivar looked up at her, too weak to argue.

“That’s why you need me. To help you through
this.”

“How are you going to help me?”

“I’m going to give you the strength to end
the punishment.”

She walked to the mouth of the abyss. Her
head bowed as she gazed into the pit. “You found it.”

The silence was as cold as the ice cave,
until the wind that blew through the narrow tunnels whistled. Ivar
listened to its tune, hoping for a wisdom.

“You have to return it to me.”

“I don’t have it.”

She pivoted around to face him. “You can get
it.”

“If I do, I won’t give it to you.”

Her pale skin flushed with anger. “You
will.”

Ivar shut his mouth and bit his lip. He
wouldn’t, but neither would he argue with her.

“Bring it to Menek. I’ll give you a ship of
your own once you do. Then you’ll be free from the Kaemperns’
torture. You can be a fisherman, live where you want. Be free.
Marry Promise. I think you’ll like that. Think about it.”

Ivar sat against the cave wall for a long
time after Hacatine’s image disappeared. He took deep breaths to
control his rapidly beating heart.

The pool of blood that had surrounded him a
few moments ago was gone. It had been a memory. The arrows that
pierced him had been real. That Ivar knew for sure because he bore
two scars over his heart. Neither Amleth, Britta, nor Aren ever
told him where those scars came from, but now he knew. He was once
Daryl, the boy who was killed in the ice caves, and brought back to
life by the Dragon Shield.

Was it kindness that caused the Kaemperns to
save his life? Or was it as Hacatine suggested? Had they intended
to torture him for his wrongs? Amleth had allowed him to live . . .
No, forced him to live. After all the horror he had caused the
Kaemperns, how could resurrecting him be a good thing? Daryl was an
enemy. Now that all these memories were planted in his mind, how
could he ever return to his village? How could he ever call it home
again? He could never be Ivar the Kaempern again. He would always
be Daryl the foreign enemy. Always. Ivar would look into their
lying faces and know that they know who he is, even when they deny
it.

Ivar wiped the sweat from his face with his
shaking hands.

Hacatine was not a friend either. There could
be no truth in her words even though she’d led him to the dagger.
She claimed it was hers, but was it? He’d found it in the other
world at a gypsy campsite. Maybe Hacatine had stolen it. It was a
weapon of power, power that belonged to its bearer. Maybe the
dagger decides who its bearer is.

Hacatine had her army. The Kaemperns had
their tribe. But Ivar–Daryl–was alone in this world. He had no
home, no possessions, no army, and no tribe.

Daryl owned the dagger once. Daryl would own
it again.

And getting it out of that abyss wouldn’t be
so hard. All it would take would be a wizard’s willpower.

Golden Globe

The blasts were so loud that even though he
covered his ears he couldn’t mute the sound. The Xylonites huddled
at the fork of the trail at the Eastern Edge, and cried in agony
after an exceptionally rapid succession of blaring explosions
rattled the forest. With smoke so thick, and the little people so
upset, Silvio dismounted and sent everyone into the thicket.
Xylonites scurried everywhere, tossing their packs on the ground
and turning the weasels loose. They ran in circles, disoriented and
upset.

They need to tunnel.” Silvio shouted to
Xylepher, who looked as confused as the others.

“Yes, sir.”

“Isn’t that what they prefer?” The conjurer
asked.

Xylepher’s eyes twitched as they jotted back
and forth. The soldier watched his friends cough and wave smoke
away from their faces whenever they could uncover their ears.

Silvio gathered the belongings the had
dropped, and slung the packs over his shoulders. He set the horses
loose and watched them gallop away. “Come this way,” he said to
Promise, leading her to the edge of the forest. Promise walked
behind him, tapping her cane as she moved. She was a pitiful sight,
stumbling on rocks and roots so Silvio cautioned her around
obstacles with his voice. He was still hesitant to touch her.

“Taking this whole band of Xylonites into
the war zone would be a mistake,” Silvio said as he gathered
several Xylonites to him. “I don’t think they can handle the
blasts. They shouldn’t have to.”

“It would be best, sir, that is if you don’t
need us.” Xylepher winced when another bolt of lightning struck the
Shield. “Please, sir, there’s nothing we can do now. Not with
everybody all shook up like this.”

Silvio nodded. “No sense suffering.”

Even if they found Amleth, and were allowed
into the safety of the shield, the noise would still rattle their
little heads. “King of Xylonites, that’s what I am. Here to protect
you, not destroy you. Didn’t bring you here for that. Go ahead,
then. Tunnel.” He nodded toward the woods. “Dig as deep as you can
but don’t spread out. Send scouts to surface regularly so we can
communicate. We may need your services again. If nothing else,
you’ll want to know when this is over.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“And Xylepher . . .”

“Yes, sir?

“That army of yours, the ones we sent ahead
of us to warn Amleth, they might be in there.” Silvio gestured
toward Menek. “If I see them I’ll have them look for you here.”

“Thank you, sir. That would be good
indeed.”

With that, the little soldier called his
orders and hundreds of little men, women, and children scurried
toward the shelter of the forest. The weasels kicked up dirt with
their back legs burrowing into the ground and disappeared soon
followed by the Xylonites.

When the dust had settled, and all the little
people were gone, Silvio turned to Promise.

“How is your hearing?”

“Better than my sight.” Promise inhaled
deeply.

“Not too much for you?”

“What? The noise?” She shook her head. “Being
blind doesn’t make me weak, Silvio, only unable to see.”

He grunted. The golden glow of the shield
cast an aura on her face, illuminating her smooth complexion and
the red highlights in her hair. He turned away, afraid of the
emotions that stirred inside of him. She was beautiful and a native
from his homeland. Had he been able to enjoy his youth, perhaps he
would have married one so fair.

“There it is,” he said, looking out over
Menek Village, which was well shielded by the golden globe of
light.

“Describe what you see,” she whispered.

Silvio cleared his throat. “I see the village
Menek brilliant under the light of the Shield from the base of the
mountain to the shore. Gold light. Yes.”

“Is that all?”

He grimaced.
What does she want me to tell her?
“No, that’s not all!” His voice turned sour. “I
see your queen’s ships lurking in the waters. Looks like the shadow
of a dragon. Evil. Black. Threatening Menek’s existence.” He
watched for her expression but she only nodded. “Ah! Look at that.
The smoke we saw from the prairie was a ship burning and I believe
it was the enemy’s.” He squinted at her, waiting for her to
grimace, but she didn’t.

“You smell that?” He breathed in, the taste
of sulfur and wood pine smoke touching his lungs, prompting a
cough. “The stink of destruction. Half the forest on this side of
the mountain is gone already.” If he could make her feel guilty for
the destruction he would, especially since she had declared her
allegiance to Taikus.

The attacks subsided momentarily, and residue
from the explosion was now suspended in midair. Burnt timber and
scarred mountains surrounded the establishment to the northeast.
Hacatine’s ships floated dangerously close to the docks, which to
Silvio’s surprise still stood unmarred.

“She hasn’t touched those docks though.”

“I surmise she expects to use them when she
claims victory.” Promise’s retort was quick.

Silvio glared at her, hoping to decipher the
woman’s thoughts. “Bah!” He spat at his feet. The idea of Hacatine
defeating the Kaemperns, the Meneks, and the Northwind repulsed
him. “She won’t though. Not by the looks of the village’s condition
now. She’s a long way from being conqueror. Not going to
happen.”

“We’ll see.”

Now that the debris of the most recent round
of fire settled, Silvio saw figures inside the safety of the Dragon
Shield. Amleth’s army moved about the streets next to Menek
civilians. Scattered in circles throughout the town were Kaempern
women and children. The sound of voices activating the magical
power that protected them could barely be heard. It was a pleasing
sound, a lyrical melody.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going
to them?” Promise asked.

Silvio was deep in thought. If he were alone
he wouldn’t hesitate to step forward and signal his presence to the
Kaemperns.

“He’s expecting you, isn’t he? Those people
will surely open the door of refuge for a wizard. And Xylepher’s
people have announced your coming.”

Silvio nodded. The Kaemperns had been
warned, indeed. If Xylepher’s army hadn’t arrived Amleth wouldn’t
have prepared to shield his people from Hacatine’s invasion. The
same scouts would have also sent word of Silvio’s approach. The
wizard had a solid reputation of being a friend and king to the
little people and an ally to the northern tribes. His best friend
had been the late Wizard Kaempie, forefather of the Kaempern
village. Silvio would be more than welcome to find refuge behind
the Dragon Shield.

“Why do you hesitate? What do you see?” She
prodded.

How can I tell her? I can’t
just barge in there with her!
Explaining
Promise to northern warriors would take more negotiation than there
was time for. In the midst of battle Silvio’s association with her
would rouse suspicion, as would be expected.

“Kaemperns,” he whispered, his voice sounded
just as he felt. Old. “I see the entire army of Kaemperns and
Meneks behind their magical shield. Armed. Safe.”

“Go to them.”

He glanced at her. The bedraggled appearance
she had that first night on the trail had been replaced by a
renewed strength. Perhaps it was hope she clung to, or knowing that
she’d soon meet up with her friends, Silvio didn’t know. At this
point, he didn’t want to know.

“Leave a blind girl on a battleground?” he
asked, a knot of cynicism in his throat.

“Find your friends. You’ll need them.”

“Is that a threat?”

“You’re threatened, Silvio, but I’m not the
one threatening you. Hacatine is your enemy, just like she’s the
enemy of all the Northern tribes. You can’t fight her alone, even
if you had your magic. Go to a safe place and join forces with your
allies.”

Silvio looked out over the battleground
again. The quiet was ominous. Only the splash of the sea broke the
silence. There was an added whistle of wind in what forest was left
standing, that and the faint melody of the dragon shield.

Why am I stalling? What
does this sorceress mean to me? She’s like all the others.
Evil.
The words came to his mind, but they
didn’t stem from his heart. He had become fond of the young woman
and she was in greater danger than he. Silvio could step into the
shield and be protected by the greatest power of all. Promise,
though was an enemy to both the Kaemperns and Hacatine. She was
facing death, and still she held her head high.