Tests of Blood - 9. Chapter 9

Creating a Gate was one of the most personal of spells. Dalen had read an ancient text on the process, supposedly from as far back as the time of his most famous ancestor Vanyel Ashkevron. Prince Dellinar had shown him the book and its ancient language had been only part of the difficulty in reading the text.

The Empire of the East from which the King and most of the mages of Hardorn had originated from called them Portals and managed to do things with Gates that most Western Mages had thought impossible. They could make Portals without using the supporting structure of an arch or doorway. Not only that, they could combine strengths with others without needing a soul-bound partner so that a group of non-Adepts could combine to make a Portal.

Whatever their methods, they had only shared a few of them with Valdemar despite the Alliance. Even more importantly, for all their focus on group magicks, they had not yet managed to create a Permanent Gate that functioned beyond the life of the mage that created the thing. Thus, Valdemar mages still tended to use the more traditional version of Gates, especially after it had been proven the Imperial Portals were easier to disrupt or take over.

For creating this particular Gate, Dalen chose the entrance to the first geodesic dome of the Vale entrance. He had used it previously as a Gate portal, and the books he’d read on Gates said that when you used the same site as a Gate portal many times, it grew easier with each use. Dalen was fairly certain that little fact had led to the study of Permanent Gates during ancient times.

“You sure about using this entrance?” Herald Landir asked as Dalen took a deep breath before centering himself. It was so easy here, in the heart of the Vale Windfire k’Chona had created, to ground and center himself.

“I am certain.” Dalen said, skipping the steps in the oldest book about ‘preparing’ the site with handfuls of salt, rosemary and other herbs. Such preparation might have helped at one time, but it was not needed now. Instead, he spun out small tendrils of power that were a part of him. This was why the Valdemaran method of Gate construction required the power of one person, because the tendrils were a part of that person as they reached out to the lintels of the doorway, transforming them.

Next came the part he was the least certain about. Herald Landir was a quite capable Mindspeaker and had shared with Dalen the location where the Gate-terminus would be located. Dalen now knew it as well as if he’d been there himself. Only he hadn’t, and as he sent more tendrils of power out searching that place, he had to fight against the doubt that crept into him.

Those tendrils of power drained him, sucking more of his core power out as they sought the stretch of land that corresponded to the one in his mind. The Gate to Haven had been easier because he’d known that land directly. Eventually though, long before he reached the danger point where he’d have to shut the spell down, he felt the tendrils of power ‘find’ the target area, the doorway to a barn at a recently attacked farm. With a flare of light, the entrance to the Vale turned pale white and then they could see the farmyard beyond it. Paet didn’t hesitate before leading his Companion through the Gate, followed by a pack horse and then Junie led her Companion and another pack horse through. Dalen nodded at Quinn, who was watching from nearby, before Dalen followed Herald Landir’s Companion through.

There was a moment stepping through the Gate where he felt like he was being dropped down a well and filled with ice and fire at the same time. The next moment he was through the Gate and could smell the charcoal of burned wood. It had been several days since the fire here, and there were already freshly dug graves where the survivors had buried the dead.

“Easy, boy.” Dalen murmured to Thrasher, the horse his Grandfather had given him several years ago. Thrasher was a good gelding, both fast and with a great deal of endurance. If Dalen wasn’t wearing armor, Thrasher could carry him at a fast pace for longer than anything but a Companion.

“This was the farm that we came across right before heading back to Burnham.” Herald Landir said calmly as he watched several nervous farm folk approaching. “These are Holderkin, Prince Dalen. They’ve never liked Heralds much, even when we drive off the bandits that just killed half their men folk.”

“I think I understand.” Dalen said and brushed his tunic off even though there was nothing wrong with it. He was wearing a brown woolen tunic over a white undershirt with his Master Mage badge firmly showing on his collar. In his saddlebags he had a good coat although with the late summer weather he doubted he’d need it at all, and a pair of worn-in jeans as well as knee-high riding boots.

“Herald Landir, we are surprised you returned so quickly.” A big brute of a man with dark hair and a full beard that stretched halfway to his chest said with lips that looked like they rarely smiled. “We kept the barn entrance clear every morning as you directed.”

“Yes, I noticed that and appreciate your assistance.” Herald Landir said with a slight bow of his head. “I have the honor of introducing you to Master-Mage Dalen Ashkevron. Your Highness, this is Goodman Toric Althezar, Holder of these lands.”

“The name is known to us.” The man said without looking directly at Dalen. “Normally, we would not have anything to do with the mage-touched.”

“Those graves are fresh, Herald.” Dalen said in a sharp voice, and Landir’s face snapped back to him quickly. “You did not tell me citizens of Valdemar were killed in the raid.”

“They died after he left, from their wounds.” Toric said with a frown.

“You told me they didn’t need assistance!” Landir said angrily.

“Nor did they.” Toric said with a shrug. “If the God and Goddess decide to call them home, it is no business of yours.”

“Peace, Herald.” Dalen said firmly. “No matter what we may think of their beliefs, they do have the right to hold them. I presume they were offered the services of a Healer before Herald Landir left?”

“Naturally.” Toric said with a grimace. “That is the law you force on us for the scantiness of your protection.”

“I could ask my cousin to assign a Herald here full-time if you are unhappy with the protection the Crown is giving you, good sir.”

“Uh, no thank you, uh, your highness.” Toric stammered quickly. Two younger men in their early twenties had come up to them now and stood several feet back from Toric, but were listening closely. Both of them had beards of young married men, not yet grown enough to hang down past their chins.

“We will be riding down to the border and along it for some ways while we investigate these raids.” Dalen said in an officious tone. “If there is another attack, you will use the devices given to you by Herald Landir. We might be some distance out, but keep this barn door clear in an attack and we will arrive from that point. Otherwise, expect us back in four days.”

“What if you don’t return?” Toric said sourly, but without malice.

“No need to concern yourself on that matter, good sir.” Dalen smiled. “If we are gone more than five days, we’ll be in danger so great there is nothing you could do to help us. The King knows where we are and what we are doing. If we fail to check in with him he will send reinforcements.”

“May the Lord and Lady go with you, Mage.” Toric said in a neutral voice and Dalen bowed his head to the man before turning and mounting his gelding. The Herald and his two Trainees were already mounted, and he led them out of the large compound, very much aware of all the eyes focused on them.

“I hope you don’t mind me stepping in there like that.” Dalen said as soon as they were out of earshot of the compound. Herald Landir was riding next to him with the two Trainees bringing up the rear with the pack animals.

“Not at all.” Landir said with a laugh. “They still don’t care much for Heralds, and well, quite frankly, you had the rank to intimidate them in a way I don’t. These folks appreciate the freedom of worship laws that let them hold to their own beliefs, but hate the laws that allow their children to walk off the farm. From what I hear, they still disown any child of theirs that gets Chosen.”

“Sad, but within the limits of our laws.” Dalen said with a shake of his head. “We don’t have to agree with their way of life to believe they can choose to follow it. They do teach the laws of the kingdom fairly though, and so their kids know what it means when a Companion shows up riderless, and they know they can’t stop their kids from leaving the farms.”

“Yeah, but they don’t give them one paltry copper.” Paet spat in disgust from behind as they began moving South through the edges of several fields since there was no obvious road heading in this direction. It was easy to see where the bandits that had raided the farm had crossed the fields which were almost ready for harvesting. Dalen spotted a fair number of youngsters in their teens and men in their early twenties working in the damaged fields, trying to salvage what they could.

“They don’t need to either.” Dalen said with a shake of his head at the antiquated equipment these folks were using. “Before she passed on, Queen’s Own Herald Talia established a foundation that helps those folks get on their feet. Most of them are so industrious that’s all they need, a helping hand and before they’re old enough to retire they’re usually giving back twice what the Foundation used to help them out.

“Wasn’t that the foundation for the Helping Hands program the Crown established during Queen Lorraina’s time?” Junie asked in her perky manner.

“Yes, King Rothar’s mother started the program although it has been revised several times.” Dalen agreed. “For some reason, common Valdemarans just don’t give back enough to the program once they’ve gotten their helping hand. The return rate on the investment per person is much lower than the Holderkin Assistance Fund.”

“We’re just too greedy you mean.” Paet joked and Dalen smiled at his friend. He hadn’t really had any time alone with him yet.

After that they rode in silence and Dalen spent the time observing the Holderkin farmers in their fields. It seemed that while they used antiquated equipment, they were still quite efficient and effective at their work. The Ashkevron family had a tradition that in Harvest season, everyone worked from the Lord Ashkevron to the youngest child off of the apron strings. Even Dalen had been out in the fields with his cousins helping to take in the harvest so he was able to look at these Holderkin working and understand what they were doing from his own experience.

It was several candlemarks, or hours as the newer term was used, before they reached true wilderness, untamed by human hands. This region of Valdemar was fairly mountainous and they were in the foothills of the southern ranges that separated Valdemar from Rethwellan and Menmillith. The paths the bandits had taken were quite obvious, heading directly south, towards the Menmillith border.

“We aren’t going to be able to catch up with them, even if we all had Companions.” Landir said firmly. “It’s still early, so we’ll stop for a light meal here and keep following the trail. I’ll also leave the marker here for the Guard units that are following.”

“Why did you decide to have the Guard units ride down here instead of going via the Gate?” Dalen asked as they dismounted and he tried his best to not wince. He had just enough Healing gift to make a difference in relaxing his sore muscles as he sat down with the Herald while the two Trainees began a small fire. They’d at least have tea with lunch, which Dalen preferred to just cold fare.

“Timing.” Landir explained. “We could have brought them with us, but this way they get an extra day to get their gear together and they should be reaching this spot just about when we’re ready to start heading back up here. If we run into trouble, well, we’ll have a place that we’ll be running too instead of just running.”

“That actually sounds… smart.” Dalen said with a shake of his head. “Are you a tactician?”

“A little.” Landir murmured with a slight smile.

“Pity we don’t have any game boards with us.” Dalen said with a little smile on his face.

“Who needs a board?” Landir counted. “I have the pieces for Hinds & Hounds in my saddlebags. We can just cut out some turf into a board and play on that.”

“Finally!” Paet exclaimed with a grin.

“What?” Dalen asked him worriedly.

“Finally he’ll have someone else to beat on besides me.” Paet retorted.

“No, you and Junie will take turns beating on each other with weapons practice after we eat dinner.” Landir laughed at them. “Then we’ll mix in a few lessons for the Prince here since he’s out in the field for the first time. Being familiar with a blade won’t kill him and might help him.”

“You should ask before you presume anything.” Dalen laughed. “Did you forget I was raised Ashkevron?”

“What’s that got to do with blade work?” Landir asked with a frown.

“One candlemark of arms practice per day, every day from the age of ten up to when I left last year.” Dalen said with a shake of his head. “I won’t say I’m any good with a sword but I can manage to keep from sticking myself or a friend with the thing.”

“Then why didn’t you bring one with you?” Paet asked with a look of confusion on his face.

“Silly, I don’t even own a sword.” Dalen laughed. “Between the firearms and magic, well they are growing outdated.”

“But they are still useful.” Landir retorted. “A firearm takes time to reload, and magic has its limits, even for someone like you.”

“Tell me about it.” Dalen said with a sigh. “I got most of the energy back this time from that Gate and I am still tired from the thing. Tonight I’ll be sleeping like a log.”

“We will camp early tonight to give you more rest.” Landir said with a nod. “It is a good thing you told me you are tired as well. Please, remember, we do need to communicate on these things, and unlike back at the farm, I am in charge here.”

“I understand, Herald.” Dalen said with an affirmative motion of his head.

After eating lunch and having a pot of tea, Dalen was ready to face the saddle again. For the rest of the afternoon, they rode mostly in silence, broken by the occasional laughter of one of the others. It seemed even though they were vocally quiet, they were all talking to their companions, and maybe even each other with Mindspeech. Unlike them, Dalen had only a normal horse and so did not join in on their mental conversations.

Instead he passed the time by attenuating himself to the land around him. They were too far from Burnham to reach the nodes there. Still, in this area they were at now, he found two ley-lines that he could reach and draw power from. As it was, he opened a conduit to the life around them and began to slowly absorb power from those sources instead of ley-lines.

All life created mage energy that could be tapped and used. In the normal course of things, this energy would collect together and ‘flow’ in ley-lines until they became a node. Many people used the metaphor of melting snow feeding into rivers and from there rivers flowing into lakes. The biggest difference was that the energy from a node flowed out into the same energy plane that made Gate travel possible.

Just like lying in snow or in a river, your clothes will get wet, so too drawing power from a ley–line or the smaller bits of power life gave off would help a mage replenish his reserve. Where the river had a current and required energy to stay in one place, so to did ley-lines (and nodes!) take more strength from the mage to keep from being lost or burned to a cinder. That was why now he chose to replenish his depleted energy reserves by slowly absorbing the power from life around him instead of one of the ley-lines. It was easier on him, and he could afford to take the time instead of doing it in a rush from a ley-line.

As he absorbed energy from it, the land itself began to tell him part of its secrets. This didn’t scare him because he had first felt it when he started learning magic back at Forst Reach. His teacher had said it was likely a small amount of Earth-sense, a gift common to the Royal Family of Rethwellan. His great-grandmother Elspeth was descended from a Rethwellan Prince (brother to the Prince that had later married Elspeth’s mother and produced twin heirs to the throne, a line from which King Rothar was descended). The Earth-sense was a gift known to be common in the Rethwellan royal line, so it was not inconceivable it was one of the many that Dalen possessed.

From everything he had read and been told about it, there was no special teaching that could be done with the Earth-sense except by the Tayledras. That was part of why they wanted him to go to Tayledras for training, but that wasn’t the path he wanted to take. That was why although he enjoyed learning about lands like these through his gifts, he didn’t necessarily miss not having learned anything more about using his Earth-sense.

Until now.

This land was trying to tell him something, probably something to do with those bandits, and he couldn’t quite tell what it was trying to say. Maybe if he’d taken those lessons in the k’Valdemar Vale, the same one his friend Bart had come from, he’d be able to interpret what the land was trying to tell him. It was frustrating, and he felt like he was being pulled in six different directions, frustrating him even more.

“What is wrong?” Landir’s voice was soft as his Companion stepped a bit closer to Dalen’s horse. Thrasher tried to show his teeth and Landir’s Companion did little more than flick her ears before the gelding settled back down. He’d already had his lessons in good behavior from the three Companions in the first couple of hours of the journey.

“I’m not sure.” Dalen answered after a long pause. “It’s like the land itself is trying to tell me something. I’ve been doing a slow recharge, and we’re getting to know each other a bit.”

“You almost make it sound like the land itself is alive.” Landir said quietly.

“It is, in a way.” Dalen said with a shrug. “It’s just not sentient the way we’re used to thinking, like a Companion or a Gryphon. There is something wrong in this area. What it is, I don’t know for sure, but it seems to grow stronger the further south we go.”

“Well that’s enough for me to know we’re moving further into danger.” Landir said and turned in his saddle to make a few gestures to the Trainees. Dalen watched with amusement as they came to a halt while the Trainees rummaged around with the packhorses. They broke out several long firearms in their saddle-sheaths, loading them before attaching them to their saddles. Then out came more wheel-lock pistols that were also loaded, and finally a spare long sword that matched the one Paet was already wearing at his waist. This he handed to Dalen who took it, feeling its weight a moment before buckling it around his waist without getting off his horse.

They were stopped altogether about fifteen minutes before continuing on their way in renewed silence. The sword on his waist felt heavy and odd, not something he was used to having there, and not something altogether welcome. It was a too real reminder that what they were doing was more than a riding and camp-out like he’d done a few times with his Ashkevron cousins. With the continued feeling of wrongness from the land around him, he was very much aware that they were riding into danger, not away from it.

“Damn it, this is why I don’t want to be a Herald.” Dalen muttered, not realizing he was vocalizing his thoughts until it was too late to snatch the words back.

“You don’t like roughing it out here in the wilderness of Valdemar?” Landir’s voice was light, and it appeared he had taken no offense to the statement. Dalen took a deep breath before relaxing his suddenly tensed shoulder muscles.

“It’s not that.” Dalen assured the man just as softly. There was just something in the air that insisted he stay quiet and he was not going to fight the feeling. “We’re just… we’re riding into danger, towards the unknown and that is what has me uncomfortable.”

“It’s a reasonable feeling.” Landir said with a rough grin. “You think those two back there aren’t feeling much the same? Just because we’re Chosen and have Companions doesn’t mean we don’t feel fear or don’t get afraid. I’ll wager those two back there are very cognizant of the fact that they might not survive this if we get into anything too deep.”

“Yes, but I couldn’t see doing this all the time, every day of my life.” Dalen replied.

“It’s not like Heralds ride into danger every day, and here you are, not a Herald and you’re right here with us.” Landir pointed out.

“I am the one capable of doing what is needed, so I have to be here.” Dalen said with a shrug. “Doing my duty is something I’ve had drummed into me all my life. Not only as a member of the Royal Family, but as an Ashkevron as well. The Ashkevron family has always put the needs of this Kingdom first, same as the Royal Family and half of the nobles.”

“Which is why from where I sit, the only difference between us is the fact that my mount talks back.” Landir said with a chuckle, earning himself a glare from his Companion, who bucked a little to show him what she thought of the statement.

“I take it she’s got a few words for you.” Dalen laughed when the Herald got that slightly distant look on his face that meant he was mindspeaking.

“You might say that.” Landir chuckled softly. “Let’s hold here, the trail looks like they split up a bit and I want a closer look.”

“Okay.” Dalen said as they stopped and the Herald dismounted. Junie got off her Companion and joined the Herald in looking at the trail while Paet urged his Companion up until she was next to Dalen.

“How are you doing?” Paet asked quietly.

“Not too bad.” Dalen said. “You’re looking a little leaner.”

“Being in the field does that to you.” Paet said with a little smile. “I tried to tell Landir that you might not be the best person for this, but when he Mindspoke Haven, they said they didn’t have anyone to send right now.”

“It’s okay, Paet.” Dalen said. “I’m not upset at being dragged from my nice little posting out into the wild.”

“I was more worried about the danger part.” Paet said. “I know you don’t want to be a Herald.”

“Going out here with you guys doesn’t make me a Herald.” Dalen chuckled.

“No, but I thought it might be a little too close for your comfort.” Paet replied. “How are your legs holding up?”

“I hurt.” Dalen admitted with a shrug. “My muscles are going to be sore as hell tonight.”

“We’ve got some liniment that works wonders.” Paet said. “I picked some more up while we were in town. Has Herald Landir said anything about sleeping arrangements?”

“No.” Dalen frowned. “I saw the tents on the pack animals.”

“We’ve got two tents.” Paet explained. “Each can hold two of us. Landir’s been using one for himself and I’ve been sharing with Junie. If you want, you can share with me. Junie won’t mind sharing with Landir.”

“The question is would he mind?” Dalen asked and Paet shook his head.

“I don’t think so.” Paet’s reply was soft. “Since I’m friends with you, he said to bring it up and to be sure you knew you were welcome at either tent.”

“I’ll share with you if you don’t mind.” Dalen decided. “I think I’ll be more comfortable bunking with a friend.”

“That’s what I figured.” Paet grinned and his Companion stepped back a few paces as Landir approached them with Junie right behind.

“It looks like they split into two roughly equal groups.” Landir stated flatly and he was frowning. “One of them headed due east from here and there’s a smaller farm in that direction. The other group headed due south, and from the marks they left behind, they’re carrying more weight. Is there any chance you could scry ahead and see where they are? None of us are gifted with Farsight.”

“I can.” Dalen agreed and prepared to swing off of his mount, but was taken by a sudden sensation of wrongness.

“What is it?” Landir asked with a worried tone.

“I don’t know.” Dalen said as he resumed his seat in the saddle. He cast out with his mind, searching for the sense of wrongness, but couldn’t find any trace. With a shake of his head, he prepared to dismount, thinking of what he’d need for the scrying spell. He’d brought most of the components with him…

“Watch it.” Landir said as he rushed to Dalen and grabbed him before he fell out of the saddle. Another wave of dizziness rolled over Dalen and he frowned as he half-slid off of his horse and down to the ground. Landir was helping him, calling out instructions to the Trainees while the three Companions all watched Dalen.

“What’s wrong?” Paet’s voice was soft in Dalen’s ears as he handed a canteen of water to him.

“I’m not sure.” Dalen said after taking a deep swallow of the water. “It’s like every time I think about scrying I get dizzy.”

“Have you thought it might be something to do with that?” Paet asked. “She says you’ve got a bit of the Earth-sense, right?”

“Yeah, and well, I know the land around here has been trying to tell me something.” Dalen agreed.

“Maybe it is telling you that you shouldn’t cast a scrying spell.” Landir said with a deep frown and as soon as he heard those words, Dalen knew the Herald was right.

“That’s it.” Dalen agreed.

“Well, I for one do not plan to argue if it feels this strongly about it.” Landir said immediately.

“What worries me is that it must mean that whatever is going on, there’s a powerful mage involved.” Dalen said after thinking things through for a moment. “That would explain a lot of things if you get right down into the problem. The tracks disappearing, that would be magic, the land being so upset, well that would be blood-magic.”

“Blood-magic.” Landir said with a sour twist of his mouth. “You sure about that?”

“No, but it would make sense.” Dalen replied.

“We need to inform Haven of this.” Landir said determinedly.

“No.” Dalen replied firmly and as he felt stronger, he used Paet’s extended arm to get back to his feet. Now that he knew what the land was trying to tell him, he didn’t feel as sick or disoriented. Instead he felt like he had a firm idea of what needed to be done.

“Why not?” Landir asked without any of the affront Dalen had half-expected.

“Because, you and Junie are going to go after those raiders.” Dalen explained calmly.

“What are you going to be doing?” Landir asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Following the trail south with Paet as my bodyguard.” Dalen explained further. “The mage is that direction, and while he may not be with that group, they will lead me to him. Those farmers off in that direction need your help more than I do. Once you’ve taken care of them, you will go get those Guard units that are coming down and follow our trail from there. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid like attack them or challenge the blood-wizard to a mage-duel. I’ll wait for you and those soldiers to get here before I do that.”

“I almost wish I didn’t agree with this.” Landir said with a sigh. “Let me guess, you are worried that if I send a Mindcall back to Haven, this mage will hear me?”

“I am certain he will.” Dalen said calmly. “The reason that the land in this area is uneasy is that he’s cast his magic over it, nothing too damaging, most likely just wards and warning spells that will tell him if any magic or powerful mind-magic is performed in this area. It’s the type of behavior that you might expect from a mage before he moves into a territory, a way of scouting things out, and since his magic is tainted by blood-magic, well the land isn’t too happy.”

“That makes sense.” Landir nodded. “I’ve never heard of a powerful blood-path mage coming from Menmillith before, though.”

“Neither have I.” Dalen agreed. “It doesn’t change the fact that it is what we are facing. Paet and I can track them south, and I can use passive magics that won’t trip his warnings but will give us more information. Once you get back here with the soldiers, we should have a good idea of what we’re facing and what we’ll need to handle the challenge. Then you can call Haven for reinforcements.”

“That sounds like a decent plan.” Landir said with a nod of his head and then gave Paet a very direct look. “Trainee, you do your best to watch out for him.”

“I will.” Paet promised grimly. There were going to be several things needed before they split up, and Paet took advantage of that time to whisper to Dalen. “You know, for someone who doesn’t want to be a Herald, you act an awful lot like one.”

“Shut up.” Dalen growled, not wanting to hear those words. He understood that there wasn’t much difference between what he was doing and what a Herald would do in similar circumstances.

It was just his duty, like it was a Herald’s duty. That was all.