The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy (41 page)

Darven’s face
grew grim, “My heart is already broken with the grief of leaving
her; but my lord, she is already well looked after and I could not
live with myself if you failed to return, and I was left with the
fear that it was because I was not there to look out for you.” He
paused and his head lifted, “Besides I did promise your foster
father that I’d not leave your side.”

Aran nodding
at that, turned finally to Alissa. “My love if I fall, you alone in
the province have the right to lift the King’s Sword and make it
the Queen’s Sword instead. Please return to the Keep and stay
safe.”

Alissa shook
her head, “No Aran,” she said simply. “Where you are I am. There is
no other place for me.”

Sighing, Aran
eyed the west once more then turned back to his friends. “Although
you are fools all, I am so very glad that you are coming along…I
was dreading going knowing that I would be leaving you all behind
and thinking that I might not see you again.”

Bini grinned
wickedly, “Let all the hosts of Thakur stand in our way, we shall
prevail if we are together.”

Aran turned to
Darven, “Choose no more than half a dozen fit Guardsmen to
accompany us. They must be volunteers and know where they are
bound. I would have none along who are reluctant about joining such
a venture.”

The Wolf
Leader nodded and turned to go, then paused in mid-stride.

“Lord, when do
you intend leaving?”

Aran glanced
at the western horizon, “Soon,” he muttered. “Tomorrow if at all
possible; or as soon as the party and gear are assembled.”

*

“He will need
six mages,” Maran said to those gathered in the enclave that
evening. “One mage from each discipline, with a back-up in case of
burn-out or injury.” He stared about the assembled gathering, “Who
is willing to go?”

“I shall my
lord Archmage,” said Drayden immediately. “The king and I seem to
get on, and he looks upon me as his representative to Glaive and
the High Circle.”

“Good,” Maran
said approving, “I had hoped you would go Drayden. Of all the High
Mages you are the one who stands foremost at Glaive.”

“I will
accompany him,” said a woman’s voice suddenly.

Drayden looked
over his shoulder and met the blue eyes of Master Earthmage
Theaua.

“It will be a
hard trip,” Drayden said.

“That’s no
excuse,” she said bluntly. “We Earthmages know little about Thakur
and even less about this Ability the Thakurian Warleader
possesses…so going into Thakur would be an excellent opportunity to
remedy our lack of information.”

Trevan spoke,
“Although I am neither a Master nor High Mage, I have known Arantur
longest of any here and despite what has happened over the past few
days I like the lad. Besides…” and he looked up to meet the
Archmage’s eye, “No disrespect to my lord Archmage, Arantur needs
mages he can trust and turn to.”

Maran nodded
his face tight.

“Who else?” he
asked.

“I shall…”
Genn replied his young face tanned from days of travel. “Trevan is
getting on in years and I think he may need assistance from a
Master Healermage who is young, and fit for hard journeying.”

“I’ve
travelled more years than you’ve had life Genn,” Trevan growled.
Then his austere face broke into a rare smile, “But I’d be right
glad to have you along brothermage.”

Maran looked
about him, “Any else…the Weathermages have said nothing.”

“Can we trust
him Lord Archmage?” asked one directly, bluntly.

Maran
stiffened then finally nodded, “We have spoken…his rage is
quiescent now.”

He gazed at
the knot of Weathermages, “Do not let the King’s anger against me
colour your opinion of him. It has been over four hundred years
since we have had a blooded Warriormage alive…” he smiled
tentatively. “It just takes a little getting used to.”

“Then I shall
go,” said Hela immediately, “For I was born of peasant stock and I
have not been so long on Glaive that I have forgotten how used to
cold and hardship I was. Besides, I feel I owe Healermage Trevan my
support for giving me my new life with the mages….”

“Despite your
obvious talents you are new to your mantle, Hela,” cautioned Maran.
“Are you so set upon this path.?”

She nodded
firmly.

“Then I shall
go too,” said a deep voice from the very midst of the Weathermages.
“Hela is apprenticed to me and where she goes, so do I.”

Maran smiled
at his old friend and sparring partner, “So Trenny, in all our
years together I have never known you to willingly stray so far
from Glaive. Can you not convince your pupil to stay behind
instead?”

The High
Weathermage shrugged, “She knows her own mind, and as for myself I
tire of the books and stuffy atmosphere of Glaive. This jaunt to
Thakur sounds just the thing for enlivening my old blood.”

Maran nodded,
“Then we have our six.”

He gazed at
the remainder of the mages, “I need to speak to these few
alone…please leave now.”

*

“Now,” Maran
said, once the other mages had gone. “He has called a meeting for
later tonight to discuss the route and the course of action. You
will all of course be in attendance.” He stared at each mage in
turn, “It is important for you to know that the King’s Warriormage
Ability is already far advanced. He can do things with it that have
previously only been recorded in our most ancient and crumbling
texts. I don’t know whether his Andurian blood is the trigger for
the growing Ability, or if the King’s Sword is enhancing, focusing
his own natural talent. The King’s Sword is after all a Metalmage
crafted weapon…” he reminded them, “Remember that such weapons were
the foremost weapon of choice of the ancient Warriormages.”

“Will he be
safe, lord Archmage?” asked Master Earthmage Theaua.

“As safe as
any blooded Warriormage,” replied Maran, “Which means that you
treat him carefully and with caution.” He paused, remembering,
“Whilst the Warriormage rage possesses him, he is not himself and
may act and speak irrationally. If he is so affected, then keep
your distance and your own counsel.” He sighed, “I have been
learning that particular lesson very well over the past few
days.”

“Can the rage
be treated, lord Archmage?” asked Master Healermage Genn
curiously.

Maran shook
his head, “Unfortunately not. It seems peculiar to the Warriormage
and it is up to the Warriormage himself to sort it out and rein it
in…which may go long ways to explain the old question why the
ancient Warriormages and Metalmages kept themselves apart at
Rapier.”

“It sounds
like a burden to carry,” said Hela carefully. “I am only glad that
I was not cursed with that Ability.”

“Yes, the king
has the worst of it,” agreed Drayden dryly, “Which makes gaining
his trust again the all the more important task.”

“If that is
so, then you will have a job ahead of you,” Maran replied. “Already
he has rejected the idea of the small mage enclave at Andur’s
Keep…” The Archmage met the eyes of the High Earthmage, “It is good
that he has some degree of trust in you Drayden, for I do not think
that I will be much longer wearing the white robe. The world
wearies me, and I see younger, more able men in the High Circle
better fit for guiding Glaive.”

All the mages
present hastened to speak at that, but Maran waved them silent. “I
have been too long upon this world and all my contemporaries are
now dust. I will stay to see a fruitful conclusion to this war;
however I foresee the High Council will soon be required to elect a
new Archmage.”

He paused and
for moment he seemed as a king again, “My kinsman grows daily into
his strength and power. He will rule well once he has mastered
himself and his Abilities. This rage I predict will only be a
temporary blight to our lives.” He smiled wryly to himself, “Like
the ill-humours of adolescence, Arantur will shed the rage to grow
fully into maturity and his kingship.”

“I hope you’re
right old friend,” remarked Trenny wryly. “Although it was too many
years ago to number, I remember my adolescence well, and how I was
a problem and a pain to my family, and all those around me.”

“Yet Arantur
has some degree of control already,” Trevan said abruptly. “He is
now better focused and resolved. I believe that what he became in
that battle frightened him more than he cares to admit. He will
work long and hard to ensure that never happens again.”

Maran nodded,
“I have seen that already. When he was with me today he spoke like
a mature king clear in his mind and strong upon his throne.” Then
the Archmage smiled ironically, “Do you remember me telling you how
Arantur said that mages ought to go through the three ordeals of
fire, hammer and water.”

They all
nodded.

He shook his
head in amazement at that foreknowledge, “I know that it is hard to
accept, but I believe in some fashion he predicted what would
happen to himself during and after the battle. It was almost as if
he was able to tap into the memories of the ancient
Warriormages.”

“That may be
part of the Ability,” Drayden said. “We know so little about the
Warriormages…”

Maran nodded
tiredly, “Then it will be up to all of you to guide and guard him
over the next few months. Despite his already advancing magepower
he is still a novice Warriormage, and it is up to other mages,
whatever their rank and title, to give him the necessary tuition
and support.”

He turned and
walked over to a small wooden box in one corner of the large tent.
Lifting the lid he pulled out a tightly rolled leather parchment
held closed by an old, fraying ribbon. Walking back he held out the
parchment to Drayden who accepted it curiously.

“High
Earthmage Drayden,” Maran said, “I nominate you the leader of these
five mages. Into your hands I commit their welfare and safety. I
also ask you to take this…one of the Mysteries of Glaive.”

At Maran’s
nod, Drayden loosened the ribbon and carefully unrolled the heavy
parchment. Inside were several cracked and age-faded
manuscripts.

“They are
copies of ancient maps of Thakur,” explained the Archmage. “The
originals I believe were held at Rapier, but were lost in the
burning like the rest of the knowledge of that place. Fortunately
for us, these copies were made for Glaive hundreds of years before
Rapier’s destruction, and are our only written record of the
original exploration of the Province and the Trident Range by the
Ancients.”

“Does it tell
us much?” asked Trenny, craning his head over the shoulder of the
tall High Earthmage.

“Enough,”
Maran replied. “The original map was…extremely comprehensive.
Indeed much of what is written is totally incomprehensible. I mean
does anyone here have any idea what this word means.”

“Mg?” Darven
shook his head. “Is it a place name? And this other ‘Cu’? It must
be a shortened form of a longer name, or perhaps a place that no
longer exists.”

He scanned the
text carefully, “And here again… ‘Survey 3519-07’. What is that
supposed to mean?”

Maran stared
in frustration at the ancient text, “Sometimes I believe the words
are a code of such antiquity that even the memory of it is lost…”
He shook his head again, “For all codes there are ciphers which
enable the reader to understand them. Unfortunately the cipher for
this code was lost in the destruction of Rapier, and these words
for us will remain forever a mystery.”

“And of the
other maps?” asked Drayden, carefully shuffling the parchments.
“Not all seem to be of Thakur.”

“They are more
recent ones of Nay Forest,” said Maran. “Drawn by returning
Earthmages, for on this trip into Thakur you will need to consult
with those at Glade.”

Drayden nodded
pleased, “Good! I had very much hoped to meet with the Sages again
in this life.”

“Sages?” asked
Trenny. “I have not heard of that name?”

Maran smiled,
“Normally only the Archmage and those of the Earthmage Ability
would know of the Sages…they are unique to that particular
discipline.”

Trenny
frowned, “We are mages all. Can you not tell us?”

Drayden shook
his head, “When you meet them you will be told…not before.”

*

Night had
fallen completely, and with the darkness and the cold came heavier
snowfalls blanketing the ground, and the canvas tents of the
encampment. During the day, a good number of the defensive timber
palisades had been successfully constructed, and the night time
teams were already hard at work securing and strengthening the
completed defenses.

“They will be
at it all night,” commented Aran looking out from the opened door
flap of the king’s tent. “I do not envy them their work.”

“We will be
envying them their warm fires and comfortable tents soon,” replied
Alissa, walking up to join him. “All our valuable storage space
within the saddlebags will be taken up with provisions, warm
clothing and blankets, and gear for the mountains. I predict that
there will be a time soon when we will be heartily sick of sleeping
in the cold, with only an oiled leather goundsack to shield us from
the snow.”

Aran nodded
and turned to the young woman.

“If you have
concerns then it is not too late for you to back out Alissa. You
know that I would prefer you safe behind our lines.”

“You know that
cannot be,” she said firmly. “My place is with you. Besides if you
fail, what hope is there for the rest of us?”

“All is in
readiness Aran!” Darven’s heavily muffled figure loomed out of the
swirling snow. Bini, almost unrecognisable in his heavy furs was
only a step or two behind.

“The mages
have selected their representatives,” he added, whilst brushing the
snow from his cloak, “And I have six volunteers from the Guard who
are presently readying their gear and mounts for an early start
tomorrow.”