However, no one made any motions to follow his instructions until Lupara spoke again. “Well, you heard him. Let us move!” said Lupara sternly. The crowd responded quickly under the combined guidance of the two formidable women; Lupara assisting those seeking shelter in the cellar, and Di assisting those readying themselves for battle. Each of the women’s tasks were completed efficiently, but it did give Intellos and the man a few minutes to speak privately again.
“What did you say your name was again?” asked Intellos, “You seem oddly familiar to me.”
“I did not,” he answered. “But it is Borinth,” said the man flatly. “The reason I am familiar is because just a short time ago, we were standing next to each other in the throne room of the Stone Keep. You are Intellos, The Grand Wizard, are you not?”
“I am Intellos, but I do not wear that mantel any longer,” he said feigning confidence.
“Are you on a secretive quest? I could not help but notice you did not use magic to aid Dianali and I,” asked the man.
“No. I am on no quest,” he said.
“What brings you to the Inn?” asked Borinth.
“That is quite the long story. A story we do not have time for,” answered Intellos.
“No matter. Your presence here changes our tactics and no doubt our chance for victory,” said Borinth, obviously referring to Intellos as if he still possessed his vast quantities of magic. “You are able to stand against them, I trust?”
“I am afraid that will no longer be an option,” said the ages old former wizard, still feigning confidence. “What do you pose is our best defensive strategy?” he asked, breaking the silence.
The aged warrior looked around the kitchen and shook his head, “There are no windows through which we can observe the movements of our invaders and there are two separate entrances we need to defend. Against a smaller force, one with predictable tactics, Di and I would be able to outlast them. But their numbers are large enough that all they would have to do is wear us down. We can stand against many, but not one hundred.”
“That is not a plan,” stated Intellos.
“Indeed, it is not. If we could post an archer or two on the rooftop, that would give us a decided advantage; however, both Di and I are needed here,” said Borinth as he looked up to the ceiling.
“Good,” interjected Intellos. “We can begin with that. Now, assuming we have one or two archers on the rooftop, what then?”
“Three would be preferable, but if we had two, that would prevent their outright assault and force them to advance in stages. I am sure there are not only two separate entrances to this kitchen, but to the building as well. We would need to secure them, block them from the inside,” said the warrior as his mind engaged more fully into a feasible defense plan.
“Good!” exclaimed the former wizard. “So, once we have blocked one of the entrances, what then?”
“Preferably, we would need to block the front entrance as it is wider and would allow our invaders to more quickly infiltrate the building once they have bypassed our outer defenses, which they will. We need to route them to the narrowest entrance which is usually in the back. We do that, then we can set up blockades spaced intermittently until we reach this room, where we hold and outlast them,” he said.
“Sounds like you have a plan after all,” Intellos said with a grin.
“Do not get optimistic, my friend. There are a few pieces we need to have in place before our chance of success becomes great enough to show promise,” Borinth said as his attention, and that of Intellos, were drawn to the doorway.
“Have faith, my friend,” whispered Intellos as Dianali and her makeshift warriors entered the kitchen, all looking to Borinth for direction.
“This is all we have,” she said. “The rest have retreated to the cellar with Lupara. I believe she could be a solid mercenary, given enough time and training,” she said with a wink.
“Then this will have to do,” he said. In an authoritative voice, he addressed the group, “Do any of you have experience with the bow and arrow?”
One man stepped forward, his bow hanging around his shoulder, his hand lazily resting on the handle. Borinth saw that it was a long bow of moderate quality; better than a simple peasant’s but not that of a true archer.
“What is your name and what is your experience with the bow?” asked Borinth.
“My name is Uuntule. I did my selection in the service of my local lord many years ago. I was in his rather small battalion of archers. Since then, I have kept my skills up by hunting and the occasional target practice,” he said through a raspy voice.
“Very good. You will be of great use to our effort,” he said as he gripped the man’s shoulder. “What of the rest of you? Does anyone else have experience?”
When no one else raised a hand, Uuntule quickly unslung his bow and used it to prod a young man, barely beyond adolescence, in the pit of his stomach. Hearing him grimace, Borinth directed his question directly to the young man, “Well, boy, do you have any skill with the bow?”
“Yes, sir,” said the young man weakly. “I have a little experience, but only with targets at home.”
“Tell him,” ordered Uuntule. It was not until Borinth looked back to the young man that he saw the resemblance and knew they must be father and son.
“Yes, tell him,” interrupted Dianali. “Now is not the time to play coy with your skills. We will have time for that later,” she said with a slight grin.
“I won a few competitions at home,” said the boy visibly trying to shrink away.
“A few competitions?” Uuntule energetically repeated. “You have won every contest since you were nine years old!”
“Is that so?” asked Borinth.
“It is, sir,” answered the young man.
“What is your name, boy?” asked Borinth.
“Aglascio. Named after my grandfather,” he answered.
“Very well. We will need your marksmanship if we are going to survive today. Uuntule, take your son and your bows and arrows and get on the roof. We will need you to watch for our enemy’s advance. You there,” Borinth said as he turned his attention to another young man whose eyes were wide with his fear, “You are to go with them and report back what they see.”
“How do I do that?” asked the timid young man.
“Dianali, please instruct our messenger in the intricacies and necessities of combat communication,” said Borinth.
“With pleasure,” she returned as she put an arm around his shoulder and lead all three of them to the roof access.
“Now, the rest of us need to secure the front exit and pray we have time. Use any wood that you can find. Brace the doors and nail them together. Intellos, find Lupara and get the tools we need. After that, use as many of those liquor bottles you can find and make more of those bombs. Also, take some oil, the stuff used for the lights and pour it over the side of the building. But leave the area by the back door open. We want to route them all to the back,” he said as he took his weapon belt off and let it drop to the floor.
Intellos exited briskly as Borinth continued to bark orders. In his haste to fulfill his tasks, he could not help but reflect on the authority he began to lack. If this situation had happened only a short time ago, he would have taken the lead and quickly dispatched with the invaders, regardless of how unnatural they were. But this was not a short time ago. Though he naturally gravitated toward the authority passed on to him by Grand Wizard Eborune, and did find himself missing it, echoing loudly in his mind was another passage from the rather nondescript book he had been given all those years ago:
Being in a position of leadership, righteous and benevolent leadership, requires a mastery of discipline and authority. However, one cannot hope to display true authority until one first masters oneself. Only in displaying authority over everything within, can one then display authority over everything without.
He had to admit the attractiveness of asserting his authority, however shrouded and
mist like it currently was and based completely on his past ability, was pulling at him with a strong subtlety. But there was something to be said of his current condition. He could not deny that being able to assist Borinth and Dianali the way he did last night, to still make a difference even after all of him had been surgically removed, was exhilarating. Having his anxiety rocket like never before, at least not since he was an initiate, allowed him to feel what it was like to be alive again. It was not the same exhilaration as it was when he grabbed his talent to allow the ebbs and flows of magic to course though the fibers of his being, but its appeal was something he could not deny. Energized with this feeling he had not felt since before the conclusion of The Severing, he bounded down the steps to the cellar, startling those who were currently dwelling within.
“Intellos!” shouted Lupara, “What has happened!”
“Oh, nothing my dear,” he answered calmly. “Where are the tools?”
“Tools?” she asked.
“Yes, the tools. We need them to properly secure the front entrance,” he said, energetic excitement coursing through him.
“They are kept in the shed in the back of the lot,” she answered. “But it is too far away.”
Ignoring her warning, he asked, “When I exit the back door, which way do I go?”
“Intellos, you cannot. You will never make it,” she said as she stood up to face him.
“But I must. They are of vital importance if our plan for defense is going to work,” he said as he turned to leave.
“Intellos,” she said as she grabbed his wrist causing him to turn around, “Be careful.”
He did not answer but smiled and bounded back up the stairs. He ran back to Borinth and informed him where the tools were stored and that he was going to get them.
“You seem much too excited about this, Grand Wizard. We do not know if their reinforcements have arrived. However, we do need them,” said the warrior using his dagger to pry off one of the legs of the tables.
“Please, I am not the Grand Wizard any longer,” he said as he walked toward the back door.
“Intellos, wait just a moment,” Borinth said. “Di, go with him and make sure he does not die,” he said as the table leg came free.
Dianali stood up and walked over to Intellos, “Well, what are we waiting for? We have got some people to save, including us.”
In spite of Intellos’s excitement, he decided against the better portion of valor and allowed Dianali to go first. Without his magic, his senses had become dulled as did his ability to know who and what as around. She, on the other hand, still possessed all of her warrior honed skills which included the rather uncanny ability of detecting when something was approaching. So, she exited into the early morning haze first allowing him to accompany her only after she was satisfied there was nothing threatening outside.
The shed Lupara spoke of was about one hundred and fifty feet away by Intellos’s estimation, although the predawn light did not facilitate accuracy. Though his senses were muted compared to what he had experienced the majority of his life, everything sounded and felt enhanced. Not quite the same as it did when the magic coursed through his body, but he was certainly more acutely aware than what he had been before he stepped outside of the inn. He felt his heart rate quicken and his breathing become shallower. His hands became clammy and armpits began to sweat.
“Be still,” hushed Dianali, “You are breathing loudly enough for even insects to hear.”
The former wizard felt a little embarrassed. He was not familiar with his new position of relative dependence and was not sure he liked it. And although he was not entirely comfortable with feeling this much fear, he did like feeling alive again, at least a little. Listening to the female warrior, he inventoried his condition and assessed the truth of her statement. He was indeed breathing loudly. He settled himself the way he had when he as an initiate before performing a simple spell and quieted his breathing.
“Good,” whispered Di, “Now, let us continue.”
They reached the shed without incident. It was locked, but Dianali quickly produced two thin metal objects inserting both of them into the keyhole. After a quick wiggle, the lock popped open allowing the door to swing open slowly. It creaked maliciously, as if it was trying to reveal their mission to their attackers. However, in spite of the noise, they were able to retrieve the nails and hammers without detection and quickly began their short journey back to the inn. What he thought would be a relatively short and uneventful trip back was halted when he noticed he could no longer hear Dianali’s footsteps behind him.
He stopped and looked around. He saw a thin shadow disappear behind the line of trees about thirty feet away. Perhaps because the exhilaration of the moment had overcome the better portion of his reason, or perhaps because he longed to play a pivotal role in something again, even the smallest of roles; regardless of his reasons, he turned toward the direction of the disappearing shadow having decided to follow it. As he approached the line of trees, he wished he was able to employ one of the several detection spells still firmly set in his knowledge base. Without the talent and his connection to it, his desire fell upon a fruitless hope. As such, he would have to rely upon his eyes, ears, and quite possibly, even his nose.
But they proved to be lacking as he soon found the edge of a dagger resting malevolently against the skin of his neck. He froze instantly. This was a situation he was not commonly exposed to, someone being able to deceive him and approach him without his knowledge or allowance. But when the voice spoke instead of the dagger slitting his throat, he guessed who it was.
“You are, without a doubt, the loudest person when trying to be quiet I have ever known,” said Dianali.
“I am sorry. I was trying to be silent,” he responded as both the dagger and his anxiety eased the pressure off his skin and heart respectively.
“Well stop trying,” she rebuked. “We have a larger issue now. Follow,” she said leading him through the relatively thin line of trees to a clearing several hundred more feet into the thicket. When she stopped, she pointed into the clearing. What he saw terrified him. There was not just a force of about one hundred invaders, but closer to one thousand, if his estimations were correct. It was difficult to get an accurate count because of all of the activity inside their camp. They were clearly preparing for an assault, one that would overrun the little inn.
“We have to get back and warn Borinth!” he whispered. “We cannot hope to survive this if we stand and fight!”
Both of them were off into the fog of the early dawn quickly. While Dianali remained completely silent, Intellos did not. He made a note of it, should they survive past the attack, to ask the illusive woman to instruct him in the skills of moving silently. But they had to survive first, and for that to happen, they had to reach Borinth in enough time to convince him to alter their plan of defense. For there was no defense they could mount, no matter how well thought out and planned, that would allow any of them to see the light of the approaching dawn.
As they approached the inn, they could see through the windows that Borinth and his makeshift crew were well on their way to amassing the required wood that would allow their defensive plan to have the greatest chance for success. But that plan was based on a supposition now proved to be false. They climbed the porch and approached the door. No sooner than when they crossed the threshold did Dianali say, “Borinth, we have a problem.”
It was not the first time he ever heard the woman use that phrase, however, because she did so infrequently, whenever she did, he instantly stopped whatever he was doing and attended to her. Such was the result of a trust between the two of them that had been built on the foundations of putting their respective lives in the others hands repeatedly and never being disappointed. So, he instantly dropped the table leg he was holding and turned toward her.
“They have a force of one thousand, not one hundred,” she stated, matching his intent gaze.
“One thousand?” he repeated,
not for confirmation, but to gain a greater grasp of their situation and how it had changed. When the other men heard Borinth repeat Dianali’s statement, they too stopped what they were doing and turned toward him.
“Borinth,” she said, “we cannot stand against a force of that size with just wood and nails.”
“No, you cannot,” said a voice from the front entrance to the inn, “But we can.”
As Borinth, Dianali, Intellos, and the rest of those present turned their collective gazes and attentions to see just who had spoken, three figures, robed in the darkest red cloths they had ever seen, appeared to almost float into the room.
“And just who are you?” asked a very suspicious Dianali, whose hand instinctively found the hilt of one of her daggers.
“Who we are is not important. It is what we are here to do that matters most right now,” said the man as they continued their entrance into the main room. It did not take an activation of any detection spell, nor did Intellos need to possess the talent, to know the three robed men were wizards. And from the design and coloring of their attire, they were still Acolytes. But even Acolytes could wield a formidable amount of power if their knowledge was sufficient to manifest the spells.
“Oh,” replied Borinth skeptically, “and what exactly are you here to do?” he said as he too slowly reached for the hilt of his weapon.
Intellos knew that whenever wizards asserted their influence into events, there was almost always a motivation that exceeded the individual situation. At least, that is how wizards behaved for the countless years before and during his reign as Grand Wizard. However, with the insurgence of Esthinor, things would undoubtedly change, but just how much he could not say. Before the wizard had the chance to respond to Borinth’s question, Intellos asked one of his own, “But, more importantly, Acolyte, why have you come?”
“Why?” asked the red robed Acolyte as he turned his attention to Intellos. “For no other reason than to help you.”
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