Gaia-Town - 5. Quadrant

Quadrant

Dregas opened the door to Endora’s room and called out. “You’re needed in the parlor and you’re not answering my knock!”

He looked around and didn’t see her at first. Then he noticed a curtain had been drawn. “Endora!” he shouted again.

“Come back here,” she said, poking her regal dwarfish face from behind the green drapery. Dregas paused. She looked upset.

The man walked back and entered the alcove. On a table was her magic mirror, the liquid silver in the bowl portraying a scene. “What’s going on with your pawn?” he asked.

“He’s about to die,” she said. Dregas had never seen her look so frightened, at least not since her son’s funeral.

“Can’t you urge Quennell to do another spell-song?” Dregas asked as he watched Yadrey writhe beneath an invisible hand holding him down in the dirt.

“They can only be used once every moon cycle,” she said anxiously.

Dregas didn’t understand magic but a moon cycle was when the two moons circled each other one time. That happened every three days. It was clear the large, shaggy haired mage was about to strike. The mirror showed the strings of green light gathering around his head.

“Sometimes we lose pawns to win the game,” Dregas offered. Endora just shook her head.

“Not this pawn. He’s unique.”

******************

“Lords and gentlemen. This is the plan,” Corvine said to the soldiers gathered in the tent. “If I may, my prince?”

“Please do. I’ve been wondering what this ‘secret’ plan was,” Prince Vell said. “Let’s hear of it.”

Bentan moved to the prince’s side and watched as the general set rocks at each corner of the vellum map. It was a detailed drawing of the elven kingdom and dwarvish warrens.

“We know the elf Eogan and the dwarfish king, Othmar, are conspiring together. Our spies are very good at getting their plans. So, we need to move the main part of the army right here,” Corvine explained pointing to the tiny gap between the Duranic Mountains and the Ziniths. “If we keep their two armies from joining, it will be simple to cut them to pieces.”

“Won’t that leave them vulnerable?” Bentan asked with a raised left brow. “If the troops are attacked from either side they will be fighting back-to-back.”

“That’s what we’re hoping.” Corvine grinned. “Because that’s when we launch the sneak attack.”

“What sneak attack?” the prince asked.

“While they are attacking the main force in the vale, we cut their magic wards and send in the troops to cut off their escape. We outnumber them so greatly; it’ll be like shooting garfish in a barrel.”

“That’s all well and good but how do we cut their wards?” Lord Pennray asked. He was one of the king’s closest allies but that didn’t mean he wasn’t wary about this invasion.

“We’ve got these,” Corvine said turning to a small chest behind him. He pulled out some short swords, so small they looked like children’s toys. They appeared blunt and wooden with a small metal center running along the middle.

“What are those?” the prince asked. He was getting weary of the general’s gamesmanship.

“You know of Nefarium alloys, right?” the general asked.

“Yes, but they only silence the magic of the Fae,” Bentan said.

“We found two other alloys made from Luxellium that silence elven and dwarfish magic as well. Befarium cuts elven wards like they were butter on a hot Guihani day. Xefarium does the same for the dwarfish wards. It works just as well against their spells.” Corvine actually laughed out loud after that revelation. It wasn’t a pleasant sound either.

“Who developed these alloys?” Lord Pennray asked, his eyes narrowing.

“The Andoan mages of course. They’ve provided almost nine thousand backup troops too. We will spring the trap on them in just nine days. The lords of Perei and the lower plains will be positioned to snap their defenses and attack the elven and dwarfish forces from the rear. They won’t know their vulnerability until it’s too late.”

“Do we trust the Andoan mages that this will work?” Lord Handras asked. His sons and vassals would form a large part of the main force along with Pennray’s.

“We’ve tested it, discreetly of course, and they work like a charm,” Corvine said. “We’ll have the rebel magic folk under our king’s thumb within a fortnight.”

“Why are the Andoan forces in reserve? Can we trust them with our backs?” Lord Handras asked with a snarl.

“You are speaking of my kinfolk,” Prince Vell said quietly. “I will remind you to keep a civil tongue about your prejudices.”

“I’m sorry my prince, it’s just this plan relies heavily on the word of the mages who have been known to be untrustworthy,” Pennray said and he took a deep bow.

“My grandfather and mother arranged for the presence of these troops and the development of the alloys. I’m here at the request of my father. Do you think they’d jeopardize me?” Prince Vell asked. He was not happy with the Suri lords’ questions. “I’m practically a hostage of yours. My family can be trusted.”

“Of course, my prince. I forgot my place,” Handras said bowing. Inside, the noble was simmering with rage.

****************

“What is he doing now?” Dregas asked in a hushed tone.

“He’s gathering the energy from his sealing wards for a killing strike,” Endora said. Dregas could hear a catch in her throat. “I didn’t know.”

Dregas thought her voice sounded terrified, as if she herself were facing the full-blown wrath of a powerful mage.

“Kenwald is revealing himself to the whole countryside around him. It’s worse than I thought. He’s willing to expose himself to kill the boy.” Endora mulled the situation. “What is so dangerous about a wayward youth sleeping outside your garden wall?”

Dregas was silent. He was enrapt with the vibrancy of the images. Streams of green light poured from all directions into the mage’s hands. It was gathering in a ball as Yadrey’s screams echoed in the room.

“I thought the one spell-song would deter the mage. I really did. How was I to know?” Endora lamented.

“Did you know Yadrey would encounter this mage?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I saw it. The path I sent him on would force an encounter with Thoewald’s brother. Then the mage would lead the boy to him. That spell-song should have knocked Kenwald out of action. I can’t believe this is happening,” she cried.

“What has you so scared?” Dregas finally asked. It was pecking at him terribly. The dwarf wasn’t acting like only the lad was in danger. Her state was such it was as if she herself was the one who faced the wrath of the mage.

“If he kills Yadrey and gets the necklace with the stone, it will lead Kenwald back to me. I can’t cut the spell set in the stone. If Yadrey dies, I will die,” she sobbed.

“And then I will die as well,” Dregas said coolly. “You saved me from Asmo only to face a worse fate. I wish I’d never met your son.”

“I’m sorry,” Endora wept.

***************

Kenwald knew the strike would have to be complete to kill the lad and banish his soul. As he gathered the last of his wards’ power, he thought about what the boy could do to them.

He dare not let this spirit inhabit this world.

Kenwald had smelled his brother’s essence leaking from every pore of the young man’s body after the first strike. Gods, his brother was stupid. He should’ve known better than to bed a man like this, full of potential that soaked up his powers.

Kenwald’s gift of smell had been given to him at his initiation. Each mage was granted a special power, he chose smell.

It was such a powerful gift when engaging in the rough and tumble politics of the kingdom. With it, he could not only identify the bed partners of the person, but their relationship too. It was surprising how knowing such a mundane thing could be so useful in both Quorish Keep and Magekeep. People had secrets they didn’t want shared and for a price they could be manipulated.

Basically, people could be had over something as pointless as their indiscretions. It had been laughable.

Thoewald’s gift was called ‘adoration’ but it was really emotional control. His brother could pour himself into others and influence their behavior. It was a remarkable gift especially given his other two brothers’ gifts. Together they’d almost usurped the Mageguild’s authority.

Here was another mistake of his brother Thoewald, squirming in agony at his feet.

The man, no really just a boy, was a conduit, a channel for magic. Thoewald had awakened the boy’s tendencies when he’d seduced him and poured adoration in the lad.

That’s why he had to kill him and wipe his soul from this earth. When someone with that gift had a spell put on them, they carried vestiges of it forever.

Kenwald could sense at least four casters had used the boy. His brother’s rank stink was underlying it all. A light note of willow suggested a gnomic hand. Finally, there was the ripe, rich, poignantly manly odor of the last spell caster. Kenwald could also smell the acrid, vile smell of his own magic.

If the boy wasn’t destroyed, it would lead his enemies directly to him.

Kenwald readied the energy he’d collected. It would have to be enough.

******************

“Father? Is everything at the ready?” Klisha asked peering into the scrying glass which carried her voice and image to the Archmage. The queen of Surando was delighted by how things were going. Everything appeared to be happening just as they’d planned.

“From what I’ve seen and heard, the plan is going perfectly,” her father said. His jet black hair, falling to his shoulders, and thick, lush beard made his lily white skin even brighter on the shimmering surface of the orb. “The troops are in place. King Eogan and King Othmar are at the ready. Does Damosh suspect a thing?”

“The moron king is as dense as yesterday’s guba bread. Once I convinced that idiot Corvine of the wisdom of the pincer move, my husband fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” the queen giggled. “We’ll be rid of the Suri scum soon enough.”

“Excellent,” the Archmage said. He was grinning and usually that wasn’t a good sign. Klisha realized he was pleased this time. All her efforts over the past several years were worth it just to see the overlords kill each other in fury. This civil war would end their dominance on the island into the foreseeable future.

“Are you sure Emory will get Vell to safety?” she asked after biting her lip. “I don’t want my son stuck in the middle of all this.”

“He will,” the Archmage sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so fond of him. He is half Suri and doesn’t have a drop of mage blood flowing through his veins. He’ll never father a child.”

“I’m fond of him,” the queen said softly. “Besides, I can bear another son once we find a suitable mate for me.”

“Vell’s an embarrassment to our family,” the Archmage grumbled. “We have many enemies who would use his weakness to their advantage.”

“It’s best the Ando/Suri line end anyway. It may as well end with a weak, impotent boy,” Klisha said watching her father carefully.

“Letting the savages take care of him would be a wiser course my darling,” he said.

The scrying glass wavered, his image almost wiped away.

“Father, let him live and dress as he wishes. There are plenty of our kin who prefer that side of the bed.”

“But they aren’t as frivolous and helpless as Vell,” the Archmage said.

“Let him live, please?” the queen begged. “I’ll be home and put him where our enemies can’t find him.”

“As you wish,” the Archmage agreed. “You leave in a fortnight?”

“Not that long. As soon as the battle is joined, I will escape this hellhole,” she said. “Until then father.”

“Fare thee well,” the Archmage said and the scrying glass went dark.

Klisha chewed on the ends of her jet black hair and worried. Her father wasn’t as forthcoming as he could have been. She really did love Vell for all his horrendous traits. It was too bad.

****************

Yadrey watched and struggled as the mage seemed to create a gigantic ball of green light. The sickly color made the angry man look even more sinister. It was obvious he didn’t have much time left.

The young man once again kicked his legs and swung his arms to no avail. The powerful force holding him to the ground was too great.

“Yaddie! We have to get outta here!” Zegan’s voice shrieked in his head. “Try rolling away.”

Yadrey tried to roll but the force was too great. He rocked back and forth but his back never left the scorched earth. Every time he moved, the excruciating pain of his burnt skin screamed out. Yadrey didn’t know how bad it was but the impending doom offered by the mage made it pointless to speculate.

“Try the hammer,” Zegan shouted. “Maybe it will stop him.”

Yadrey grabbed the Buggane’s hammer and held it out. He pressed the little catch on the side and a feeble spark lit and then went out.

“Zegan, it’s over,” he said. “Goodbye my love.”

Yadrey’s despair washed over him as the ball of light descended towards him. He held the black hammer before him as an ineffectual shield. It wouldn’t even light a fire any longer.

The ball got closer and Yadrey could feel the heat from it. A trickle of sweat fell down his cheek to join a tear that had already fell. He pressed the catch again and this time the hammer didn’t even spark.

Kenwald saw the little implement in the lad’s hand and paused. It didn’t smell of anything, magic or otherwise. With a flick of the wrist, he released the ball of magic and it streaked towards the boy’s head.

It struck Yadrey in the forehead first, spreading down his body. It was like the metal melted at the forge was splashing over him.

The power kept streaming from Kenwald and he laughed. At least, he did until the green glow reached the implement in the lad’s hand.

“No!” the mage screamed. The spell flowed into the thing and pulled him along with it.

“No! What is that?” Kenwald cried out. His very soul was being sucked out through his fingers. The little hammer dragged his power into it and captured it.

“Stop!” he begged but the implement kept pulling at him dragging him closer.

Yadrey opened his eyes and saw the mage begin to fall towards him. He released the hammer and it fell harmlessly to his side.

“How are we still alive?” Zegan’s voice asked. “I felt the power and it was burning me up.”

Yadrey just shook his head. It was pounding, he wasn’t injured, but his face felt numb. He sat up and no force held him down anymore. The mage croaked once and collapsed in a heap next to him.

“You did it, Yaddie! You killed him! I thought we were gone but you did it!” Zegan squealed in his head.

“He’s not dead,” Yadrey said after a moment. He watched as the mage’s chest continued to expand and fall, though slowly.

“We need to get outta here,” he said to Zegan.

“Grab his purse,” the half-gnome squeaked. “Then, we go.”

Yadrey stood and now his back really stung. His face was beginning to ache as well. He leaned over and untied the purse from the mage’s waistcord. It was heavy.

“Don’t forget the hammer. It saved us,” Zegan said.

“I won’t,” Yadrey said. He grabbed his little hammer and it felt heavier. Yadrey paused and looked at it.

“We don’t have time for that, Yaddie. Someone’s coming!” Zegan shouted. Yaddie nodded though now his head was pounding. “Hurry!”

“What’s going on here?” Yadrey heard.

And then the young man fainted, right on top of the unconscious mage.