“These are simple, so simple children in my homeland learn them so you better be able to follow them! Rule one, do not hurt anyone!” The groaning stopped, and it seemed like they were paying attention when I said that. “Two! Obey the city watches orders, but don’t listen to anyone who tells you to hurt other people unless it’s stopping someone from getting hurt.” That caused a few blank looks and stares, but more than enough people got it I knew they would eventually explain it to those that didn’t. “Three, for goodness’ sake protect and look after each other.” The grumbling was replaced by a chorus of light assent that amounted to a collective shoulder shrug and an “oh, okay.”
“Can I trust you all not to loot and steal from every stall in the city?” Quinn glared at me. But more than a few people looked chagrined and slowly put back candlesticks, hymnals, or books they had already pilfered from the chapel. I locked eyes with the three leaders of the rabble-rousing group of miscreants before saying, “Watch them? Please? Don’t embarrass me. I have a looooot of stuff I got to do before we can kill this jackass sorcerer, I need dead. After that we’ll ALL get the heck out of dodge. North, out of Tor.”
“What did he do?” Shouted the same voice from somewhere in the back.
“Ailsa, can you please explain that to them?” My fairy friend bobbed up and down in agreement. “I have to go. Quinn. Ailsa. You two are in charge. Don’t start a fight with the knights, they’ll rip you all apart. Ailsa knows how to contact me,” at least I thought the knights would. I still didn’t have any clue how high leveled the black clad scary looking dudes were. Not really. With that last command I left the cathedral of the harvester, and the chapel of the Dead God. I followed Traser as he took us to meet some more potential allies. Hopefully, these won’t require me to threaten their lives to get them to leave prayer candles alone.
Chapter 13: The United Orders
“The superior man, when resting in safety, does not forget that danger may come.” - Confucius
Fort Saint Michael, 5th Novos, 2989 AoR
The council chamber was hot and oppressive. The heat of the fire in the hearth that warmed the room warded off winter’s harshest chill. Snow blanketed the ground outside, and from where I sat off to one side I could see forest and fields clearly through a window. Snow covered everything in white as far as the eye could see. Small villages here and there broke the monotony with fires high on polls, signaling their location to people who went hunting in the forest. The forest comprised dense crops of trees that seemed to grow haphazardly everywhere. Traser had explained as we had waited for our hosts to assemble, that at night they would douse those fires. If they were lit, it would be a sign the town or village was in trouble.
How far up are we? Six stories? I questioned, as I looked down at the ground below. People bustled about in the frozen courtyard. Fetching water, breaking ice, tending to horses, feeding pigs and all the many necessities of life that a castle’s staff tended to daily. Past the courtyard and the massive protective curtain wall, was a dozen or so homes. A small hovel that traded and offered accommodations to travelers. Offering their services to those who were not high enough in the social standing of Torish culture to warrant a chamber in the keep. Such towns were common, even back home on Earth. Permanent military bases of any kind would inevitably produce towns that would spring up around them.
Past the town were hundreds of fires, and thousands of people going about very similar tasks. Feeding horses and tending cattle or livestock. What little they had. These were the people I had come to advocate for. The people I had come to this world to help. A booming voice filled the hall, angry with indignation.
“We have been through this a dozen times.” It was Sir Bariston, the knight commander of the Order of the Wounded Heart. “I will not permit those people to be left to starve, or freeze to death! Not when we have supplies here in this keep!” He boomed. The five other men, sitting at seven stone chairs each of equal height, ordained with the heraldry of their knightly order, all shifted uncomfortably. Sir Bariston’s hand gripped the hilt of his sword a little tighter, watching them. The leather of his glove creaked against the pressure he exerted. He looked as if he were simply resting his hand there, but all in the room knew it was an unspoken threat of violence.
Tol’geth bent down to my ear and attempted to whisper. “I think that one is brave. But against five of equal strength? He would not win.” Tol’geth’s voice reverberated across the chamber clearly from where he sat on a bench next to me, and I resisted the urge to face palm.
We were guests here, and had not yet been addressed by the council of knight who ran Fort Saint Michael. All the men turned to eye Tol’geth, who returned their gazes steadily, unconcerned. These men would be a challenge for him individually, their levels each well above my own, but they were all somewhere short of Tol’geth’s. I knew this from the passive Analyze skill I had been working on using. All living things radiated a life force as I was coming to understand it. And these men did not radiate nearly as much as the one who sat next to me. Tol’geth could defeat any individual here, but it would be a fight to be remembered. Together, however, even with two on one, they would defeat him out of hand. And yet, my barbarian friend seemed totally unconcerned. A lion amongst wolfhounds.
I opened my mouth to apologize to the knights, but was cut off as Traser stood up and bowed deeply. His cloak brushing the clean stone floor. “I apologize, my lords. My friend did not mean disrespect, he has difficulty speaking quietly in these stone halls.” The assembled men all fought knowing smiles or snickers as they watched. Tol’geth merely grunted his agreement, allowing the council of knights to return to their bickering.
We had come at the behest of the leader of the orders, Sir Rodrick. But we had not been the first topic on the agenda. It seemed the bloodline refugees teaming outside the fort’s doors were the topic of today’s discussion.
“Baristan, please sit down. No one here is suggesting that we let them starve. We are merely discussing what help we can logistically and realistically offer them without irreparably harming our mission. We are trying to understand the problem. Not condemn refugees on our doorstep.” Sir Rodrick said, motioning for his friend to take his seat. The leader of the Order of the Wounded Heart glared at the table for a long moment before sighing and rejoining his brothers. “Thank you. Now, Sedric please continue with the reading of the letter from the quartermaster.”
That letter had sparked the entire kerfuffle. The Quartermaster, whoever that person was, had laid out their financial and food crisis pretty clearly. The United Orders had enough supplies to keep everyone fed for another month at most. After that they would eat out of their outlying estates seed-grain stores. That would beggar the castle and the farmers who lived on those estates. It was a problem that I honestly did not know how to fix. But as I listened, I knew it was something I needed to at least help with.
I leaned over to Traser to whisper. “Let me get this straight. The Order of the Wounded Heart is the sister organization to the Order of the Bleeding heart that all your friends belong too?” He nodded. “But only the Order of the Wounded Heart is actually a member of this United Orders.” Again a confirmation. “And that Sir Baristan is the leader of both organizations?” Again the nod, followed by a smirk.
“Sir Baristan started both orders, but for different reasons. And no, I won’t be telling you what those reasons are, they are his own and that of the organizations. I won’t be having you interfere with that.” He responded to my unasked question. I glared at him, but he just shook his head slowly.
“Fine, keep your secretes. Everyone seems to have them.” I listened to the conversation for a few more seconds before leaning over to Traser and whispered purposefully, loudly. “Is there a way I might talk to them on this issue?” Traser rolled his eyes. Several on the council of knights chuckled, or in the lion’s case, belly laughed at my comment. Several others glared daggers at me, but more out of annoyance than actual anger..
“Is there something you wish to say, Wizard?” Rodrick asked, amusement and annoyance mixing in his tone. “Surely a guest of your caliber and expertise can offer a bit of perspective on the issue?” He was clearly being sarcastic. I smiled, stood up, and began pacing. Traser who had been sitting next to me, shook his head slightly as I did.
“Well, gentlemen, thank you for allowing me to consult. Those people out there?” I pointed out the small window. “Those are my people, you see. Under my protection. Or at least, they should be. I wanted to start by saying thank you for watching over them. I have been unable to directly help them, and sadly that remains the case. But, hopefully with your help, that will not be a problem for very long. I am working on several systemic solutions to that problem. If everything works out the way I hope, those solutions will bare fruit before the crisis you face takes place. But, as you all know, plans rarely work as well in practice as they do on paper. For instance, I am distracted from those projects because of an injustice my friend and those he cares about have suffered.” A low rumble of confusion swept over the assembled knights.
“What is your point spell weaver?” The lion man asked, clearly amused.
“If you help me kill or capture Cardinal Telik’s pet sorcerer and rescue the woman who he has trapped in his dark tower, I will begin the work of providing for those people.” I pointed out the window again for emphasis. “Even if I have to get a job as a mana battery and buy the grain and meat myself, I will at the very least ease the burden from your shoulders. I will also ensure that your organization is well known in the city and to everyone I meet as an honorable one. Worthy of proper patronage and support.” I continued to circle the stone table.
I know some people view that as a petty power move, but that’s not really what I was thinking about. Walking helped with my nervousness, and honestly if I didn’t walk I would probably have been shaking. It wasn’t public speaking; it was public speaking in front of guys with swords who might not take kindly to the know-it-all wizard who had just waltzed in and was now telling them what to do. People, particularly people with pointy deadly sticks, tended not to like that kind of thing.
“Intriguing proposal, but why should we trust you?” Sedric said. He was a small man, thin and short. At first glance, you really wouldn’t have taken him as a threat. But it was clear from my one interaction with the now hoodless man that he was sharp. “How do we know that you’re not just going to use our help and then disappear? What happens if you die during the attack? That is not an unlikely outcome. There was an excellent reason Telik employed that bastard. He has power.” A chorus of growls of assent and nodding heads washed over the council. “He’s personally deadly, and his servants are no different.”
“Didn’t you train that one? Oh, what was her name?” Lavell’dric snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name. “Karen? Kerna? Something like that? The little alchemist assassin girl.”
“Yes, I trained Ke’dra as an alchemist up to an apprentice level. She then left for more wealthy coffers. Much as many of the younger generation have, but that is a discussion for another time.” Another chorus of agreements accompanied Sedric’s admission. Lavell’dric let the topic die. And though I was intrigued, pursuing the drama would only have derailed us further.
Rodrick leaned forward in his chair. “If we to do this, we would require a sworn oath from you. As well as some form of collateral against you keeping your oath. We—” One of the double doors burst in. A squire in a thick gambeson and chain-mail vest practically fell through it.
“Pardon my lord commanders! Fires, fires in the dark!” Every man at the table stood, and I found myself a tall man, dwarfed by far taller, far broader men. No, it did not intimidate me in the least, I swear.
My first thought strangely enough was, when had the sun set?!
“Which ones?” Rodrick demanded.
“All of them! All six are lit, all within a heartbeat of each other!” The teenager fought to control his panic and honestly, I felt it rising in me as well.
“It has to be Telik and his damned bandits!” shouted one commander.
“He must have hired more than we thought.” Baristan growled.
“The attack on the barges must have been a diversion to exhaust us before this attack. Friends, if we lose those farmsteads and their food storage, we will all be starving within the week!” Sedric yelled. His voice on the verge of panic and defeat.
“Quiet! Let’s get organized.” Rodrick began issuing orders and over the next sixty seconds each of the six orders’ leadership was sent off towards a different farmstead. “Traser, can you and your big friend there go with Sedric and his people? They can use the front-line support.” Traser nodded. And as Tol’geth walked past me, he patted me on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring.
“Do not be afraid, friend Rayid. You will do well.” With that, my two front line party members were gone, and I found myself alone with Rodrick and his squire.
“Sedric and the others all have magical support, me and my happy little band of second sons do not. Do you care to join us?” I took a deep breath and then accepted. There was a gnawing feeling in my gut that this was all some kind of setup to lure me away from my friends. But if Traser trusted these people, I knew I should at least give them the benefit of the doubt.
“Let’s go.” Less than ten minutes later, we were all headed in different directions. I do not pretend to be an expert horse rider and when I brought up my concern, Rodrick nodded and ordered the stable hand to fetch me a mare named Sue. The horse was taller than most of the others in the stable, but when I reached a hand out to touch it, the beautiful white coated mare put its nose directly under my hand. “She’s very friendly.”
“Oh yeah, she likes you. Don’t worry, she’s trained to be an escort horse. She’ll follow Sir Rodrick’s stallion anywhere he goes. All you have to do is stay on.” The teenage stable hand gave me a quick crash course on riding in a Torish saddle - which was only slightly different from the Western American saddle - and then we were off into the woods in the middle of the ever-growing storm.
Chapter 14: Bandits and Darklings
"The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief" - William Shakespear
Fort Saint Michael Territory, 5th Novos, 2989 AoR
The bandits had brought not one, but three commoner magic users, like the one I encountered at the barge attack. I was at half health, my mana pool down by a quarter. I maintained a powerful force shield enveloping me and two of Rodrick’s Second Sons. Lightning, force bolts, and ice shards struck my shield from three different directions. I had already summoned my golem, but two of the bandits used chains to tie it down before breaking it with hammers. I had made rats like I had before off a dead bandit corpse, but the lightning caster had killed them with a single lucky spell. Their charred remains littered the ground between us and the casters.
All around me the eight knights fought bravely, bitterly outnumbered nearly three to one by the bandits that had raided the village. The villagers had either barricaded themselves in the central building or had fled into the forest. “You know,” I said to the taller of the two knights in front of me. “I think I might have to burn some stuff down.” Both men looked at me uneasily as another lightning bolt struck my Force Shield bubble and dissipated. The attack brought the shield down to half of its total Shield Points. I poured more mana into the spell, repairing the damage and bringing it back to full.
“I thought they would be out of mana by now.” The younger and shorter of the two men said.
“Same here. Wizard, if you’re going to do something, I’d suggest you do it now. Just try not to burn down the grain stores.” The older knight said. He pointed behind us at the three grain silos near the center of town.
“No promises,” I said, as the world tinged red. I let the bubble shield sustain itself, turning it from an ongoing effect to a static shield with a flex of my will. As three long and dagger sharp ice shards splashed again
st it, bringing it down to a quarter of its remaining shield points, I began moving both my hands in mirror motions of one another. As a weak Force Bolt splashed against my shield, bringing it to less than 5% of its total shield points, I finished the spells.
Two disks appeared in the air in front of the knights. Through the disks I could see a molten plane of fire and lava. Heat washed over us as two small Fire Elementals appeared. “Get the enemy spell casters!” I shouted, sending the two minions to different targets with the command. My mind felt strained being connected to both of the small elementals, but the Dark Magic Mastery Bonus allowed me to command double the number of summoned creatures. It was even better for darklings. I felt only a slight strain as the two fire starters raced off towards the lightning and ice magi.
My shield splintered into tiny glowing moats of light as another Force Bolt struck it. I grimaced and began casting a spell I had only used once, to deadly effect. A few seconds later, one knight blocked a Force Bolt with his shield, protecting me from the attack. I wound up and threw the ball of molten, sticky flame. A Fire Ball launched from my hand and out towards the enemy. I changed the spell slightly using a bit of Force magic, guiding it towards its target more accurately.
The ball of sticky flame would have landed home perfectly, if the enemy spell caster and been an idiot and stayed in one place. Sadly, the man was not a moron and jumped out of the way of the speeding ball of napalm. It splashed on the ground a few inches from him, speckles of the molten attack landing on his cloak.
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