Chapter Eighteen
The trials ended. A new set of boys went off with their new sergeants. Luther danced with Jen again. He drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Juxta stabbed a steel spike in the ground and stuck a melon onto it. He and Luther stood about thirty feet from it. Juxta seemed to concentrate for a moment, then whispered, "Shoc."
A bolt of lightning crashed into the melon from above, sending pieces of fruit across the yard. The fruit smoldered and smoked.
"How?" Luther asked.
"You must summon the magic until it reaches your heart, then draw a triangle over the melon, then the word of power."
Summon the magic? "These instructions are incomplete."
"Summoning the magic is a simple matter of drawing in force from all around you." Juxta laughed. "It takes practice, and I have books that detail the process. Some say it comes from in between things. If there is a leaf on the ground, the edge of that leaf where it joins the blade of grass below. The power comes from that space between leaf and the green. Or between two blades of grass that barely overlap."
Like that is really helpful.
Luther's eyes focused on the ground. The space between overlapping objects. Juxta left him alone. Luther stared at his surroundings, trying to notice slivers here or there. He picked up a rock, and with his eyes, traced all around the edge of the rock in his palm. The faintest tickling sensation itched its way into his fingertips. A pounding headache thumped in his skull reaching back behind his right ear and crawling forward into the ear itself.
He ran to his father. Juxta said, "Headache?"
Luther whimpered.
Juxta hugged him close. "Some nice tea maybe?"
"Please."
The tea eased the pain in Luther's skull.
"Come on," Juxta said and went into the library. He set a book on a desk. "Start at the beginning."
Luther dove into the text. It detailed different techniques for summoning power. Days bled into weeks, and with each day the summoning of power got easier.
Juxta stood behind Luther. "It's reaching my heart," Luther said.
"Don't forget the triangle and word of power."
Luther drew a triangle with his mind's eye on the melon then shouted, "Shoc!"
Lightning crashed, splattering the melon.
Juxta clapped. "Every day, practice until it's instinct."
Like he practiced the bow and blade. Is that all boys do? Train?
Luther studied book after book. Juxta had him memorize his first camp ward. Luther set it up every night in his room. Dual wards, one just inside his bedroom, the other on a perimeter outside of the house.
Fall came, and Juxta, Lisa, and Luther headed out in a wagon to the northeast to their fiefdom. Luther would have preferred to hunt while they traveled, but Juxta insisted he study a tome on the Ancient language. The miles passed by, and Luther found himself home once again. They were having dinner, and Juxta poured all of them a glass of clear liquid from a good sized barrel. "The latest batch," Juxta said. "Distilled twice and aged in hardwood barrels for a year."
"What is it?" Lisa asked.
"Cider." Juxta grinned wide and took a drink. "Perfect."
Luther took a sip, and his throat burned. He took a few more dainty sips, and his throat numbed up. A happy warmth spread out from his stomach.
"Our fiefdom is making this brew?" Luther asked.
"We have three warehouses: one is full of two-year-old barrels, but I'm not sure about those. The middle warehouse is full of 500 five-gallon barrels that are a year old." Juxta took another big drink. "The third warehouse they're working on filling now."
"How much will the men of this fiefdom drink?" Lisa asked.
"They have consumed no less than half of everything brewed. I fear we're cultivating a nation of addicts."
Lisa shrugged. "There are worse addictions. Some of the priests..."
Luther took a drink and didn't stop. He emptied his cup. Followed by a loud burp. Juxta refilled the vessel, and soon enough Luther had collapsed on the floor snoring peacefully.
Some asshole was pounding on their front door, and Luther wanted to puke. He ran out the back to the outhouse and forced his belly to empty itself. He went to the well and pulled up a bucket of water.
Juxta laughed from the back door. Luther looked up. Timothy Drakkar stood next to Juxta. Luther walked up to the two men. He extended his hand to shake with Timothy. They shook hands for a moment. Timothy still looked no older than 18.
"You must give me a sample and a fair price," Timothy said.
"We have some that's one-year-old," Juxta said, "and some that's two-years-old."
"I have to try it."
"Open keg in the kitchen. But it's the one-year-old stuff. We haven't sold a drop yet."
Timothy went back in the house. Juxta and Luther followed him.
Lisa poured a small cup for their guest. He smelled it. He stuck his finger in the liquid and tasted his finger. Timothy chugged the entire thing. "I need a thousand gallons. I brought five wagons."
"What do we sell it for?" Juxta asked. "Surely in some parchment or scroll from the One True God, it sets a price."
Lisa shook her head.
"Anywhere from a silver coin to five silver coins wholesale per gallon of distilled liquor," Luther said.
"He quotes the good book for sure," Timothy said.
"But it must be a set price for everybody. We cannot give discounts," Lisa said.
Juxta scratched at the stubble on his chin. "We haven't even tried the two-year-old barrels."
Lisa rolled her eyes. "The men have. They claim it's a great brew."
"Five hundred gallons of both batches," Timothy said.
Juxta pointed outside. "Go practice throwing fireballs."
Luther knew his father meant him. "I'll need a target."
"Partway into town is a big rock. It's taller than any of us."
Luther went walking towards town. He had seen the boulder in question before. He started with simple red balls of fire. He tried throwing them faster and faster. His whole body wanted to rest after the twentieth ball.
Somebody who apparently enjoyed sneaking up on teenage boys said, "Impressive."
Luther turned. A blond haired girl about sixteen years old stood before him.
"What's your name?" Luther asked.
"A true lord should know the name of every creature in his fiefdom."
So her name was bitch. "I've only been here a few times. I spend my days in Lynken's capital. Forgive me."
"You carry a blade and wear leathers, but you're casting fireballs? Are you truly confused?"
"Juxta feels that Ranger training is good for young boys. Gives them a sense of purpose."
She turned to walk away.
"You never told me your name," Luther said.
She smiled at him. "Bethany."
"How long have you lived here? I don't remember seeing you." And he would have remembered.
"Living in Tercia is a tough life. We heard stories about Lynken and Juxta. We moved here in the spring."
Luther nodded.
She took off in a run. "Race you to town center!"
He chased after her. He could have easily passed her, but the view of her butt as she ran compelled him to lose the race. She laughed.
She looked at the sun. "I've got to get home. I have to prepare the evening meal."
Luther winked at her. "Nice meeting you."
She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Then ran off.
The kiss spread warmth stronger than the cider through his whole face.
Two years later and Luther sat in the church while Bethany married a young man closer to her own age. He danced with a different girl at the celebration. Summers were cooler in Juxta's fiefdom, and there was a small lake. He studied magic, perhaps even with more will than he studied to be a Ranger. He turned sixteen.
"I want to show you something," Juxta said.
Luther nodde
d. The two men went out back. Juxta said, "We stand about fifty feet or so apart."
"If you intend to teach me dueling, I've read about it."
"Reading about it and doing it are different. I want to make sure we're on the same page. Put up a sphere around yourself, then we throw balls of fire or summon lightning to hit each other, until one of us falls or calls quarter."
Luther summoned a sphere of magic energy around himself. Juxta did the same. Luther summoned a lightning bolt down.
"You're strong." Juxta smiled. "But you surely don't cast from the heart."
They traded blows back and forth a few times, creating quite a magical storm. Pain spiked behind Luther's right ear, and he knew he'd done too much. "Quarter!"
* * *
High Lord Quintak sat on his cushioned throne, far into the Southern Badlands. A jeweled crown sat atop his head, with a great sword on his hip. His eyes were a bright blue with spikes of black spreading out from the iris. A general approached. He wore lightweight, finely woven chainmail over his chest, arms, and legs. He saluted Quintak.
"Pintos, how are the armies?" Quintak asked.
"We're still forging Bractar, and we're clearly short on wagons, but it's time for the next stage."
"We must test Lynken's strength. We must see if the new Bractar will work on them."
Pintos's face twisted into a cruel smile. "The Bractar work on everyone."
"Take some Lynken slaves then and see how they respond."
"Your wish is my command."
Chapter Nineteen
Luther was asleep, having a nice dream. A great banging sounded on the front door in the middle of the night. Simon's voice shouted, "Juxta!"
Luther raced out of his room and down the stairs. Mom and Juxta trailed right on his heels. He reached the door and unbarred it. Simon burst in. "Grab your orb. To the castle!"
"Don't tell me Rivek is back," Juxta said with a wild look in his eyes.
"No, the Southlanders have invaded, taken two towns," Simon said.
"I thought there was a treaty?" Lisa asked.
"No questions. I need you to move!"
Juxta ran to get his scrying orb and staff. Luther moved quickly to get three horses saddled. They galloped to the castle. Ranger cadets grabbed their horses' reigns. Simon led the way inside. King William paced back and forth in front of the throne. Tears stained Teresa's face.
William turned to Juxta and pointed. "Christen and Enkin have fallen. Reports indicate they took captives. Find them."
Juxta slammed his arcane staff onto the stone floor and held his pearl-like scrying orb that was maybe one and a half inches in diameter, in his right hand. A blazing purple fire danced in the amethyst at the end of his staff. "Your people are in chains, William. A few men, but mostly women and children. They're in a small farming community just over the border. The second group is similar. It seems like the men are all old. Yes, I don't see any males over fifteen or under forty."
"They're dead," William said.
Simon slowly fingered the hilt of his blade. "Lieutenant Garther has a hundred Rangers ready to ride. Is this going to be a rescue mission or are we invading?"
"Juxta, is it a trap? Do they have Magi?"
If they have Magi, they're dead men, Luther thought.
"There don't seem to be any reinforcements," Juxta said. "It looks like maybe two hundred armed men, plus a handful of magic wielders. Women and children. Many people are wearing the Bractar."
"What is this word? Bractar?" Teresa asked.
"Arcane bindings that slave traders use in the Southern Badlands. I've never seen a pair in person, but they keep a slave from having the will to revolt. According to the books I read, the practice was outlawed over two thousand years ago. The Bractar ultimately drive the slave mad, and they have to be killed."
Simon smiled at William. "Both our firstborn are with Garther's troop. Your son can lead in your stead. Send Juxta with us. We'll get your people back."
William sat on the throne. "I would rather the boy take my place on the throne while I lead this charge."
"Luther and Lisa are coming, too," Juxta said. "Lisa is a powerful healer, and while Luther's training has only begun, he'll act as a magnifier for my powers."
A warm fire started to burn in Luther's heart.
William reached out and touched Teresa's hands. "You'll take the throne. My boy needs to taste blood, and I'll be damned if there's going to be some killing that I'm not in on."
Teresa let out a little mouse's sigh. "As you wish."
"I promise I won't die."
"I'll never forgive you if you do."
"Do we leave at dawn?" Simon said.
"Most of the men are asleep. I know better than to leave the cadets behind," William said. "A few more hours of rest may be more effective than trying to leave now."
"We'll need wagons with barrels of wine and water."
"I might be able to summon water," Luther said.
"The pup speaks!" William said with a laugh.
"The priesthood taught me," Luther said. "If that works in the Badlands."
"We'll bring wagons just in case."
"We'll return at dawn," Juxta said.
William nodded.
Juxta walked out of the throne room, with Mom and Luther following. "The only downside to the timing of this is you haven't forged a mage staff yet," Juxta said.
Mom shrugged. "We don't have time."
"After this war, I would like to travel to Druidia and get seeds from my grove. Plant a new grove in Lynken. I think it'll give me more strength."
"It could."
Luther's thoughts danced. War? With no warning, no declaration, he was going to be an instrument of destruction. They were invaders. They must be driven back. That is the way of Lynken.
Luther put the saddles away after they made it home. His parents were already asleep. He knew in his heart there was no way he'd sleep. The sun just barely crept up on the horizon. The rooster woke the others. Luther readied their wagon. Juxta put a keg of distilled apple cider in the back. Mom filled a second keg with well water. They put grain bags in the wagon for the horses, plus a barrel of the teardrop-shaped fruit. Juxta talked to one of the neighbors to look after the chickens. They made it to the castle by the time half of the sun rested above the horizon.
The troop thundered out of the castle over one hundred strong, with twenty wagons. William, Juxta, and Simon rode at the very front of the troop, due south.
Chapter Twenty
King William called a halt around noon to water and feed the horses. A flock of very intelligent ducks decided to use a wide spot in the stream at the same time as the humans. Rangers cut down about twenty of them. By the end of the day, the road became a trail.
A week passed as they traveled this way. A literal line in the ground marked where the dirt ended, and desolate sand began. The troop camped on the edge of the land. William summoned a meeting of the minds: Simon, Mathew, Juxta, and Mom. Luther tagged along.
"Scry them," William said. "How far?"
Juxta withdrew the scrying orb from some secret pocket. He stared into it for a moment. "Three days. Two and a half if we hurry. They're farming."
"In this wasteland?" Mathew asked.
"They have some kind of well dug and irrigation."
"What about my people?" William asked.
"They sleep in tents. They're given only a little food. It seems the women are being married off."
William started to draw in breath after breath, ragged pulls of harsh air that implied he was doing everything he could to control his rage. His hands and lips trembled. He seemed to gain a bit of composure. "The men we face..."
"Not really that different from us," Juxta said. "Some are covered with fur, some are not. Their insides are the same as ours."
"Then they bleed and die."
"Aye, my liege."
The meeting broke up. Everybody bedded down. The sun was bright in the morning, and no shade ba
lanced out the blaze. They passed by small mounds that stood maybe six feet tall. The lumps of dirt didn't look natural, like some creature had made them.
A Ranger fired an arrow at the top of one of the mounds. It pierced through a centipede that was nearly two feet long. The creature did not die. Instead, it screamed some kind of torturous death knell.
Juxta shouted, "Fireballs!"
Every Ranger had an arrow nocked. Two arrows pierced the centipede coming out of a mound on their left. It too screamed.
More and more appeared. Mathew, Juxta, Mom, and Luther started throwing balls of red fire at the tops of mounds. Arrows were faster, and the balls of fire crashed on dead centipedes. Luther didn't kill a single one, but the Magi kept throwing fire, mostly destroying arrows and insect bodies. Rangers ditched their bows and drew blades one by one. A horse's leg got bit, and the animal instantly fell. Rangers hopped off the horses to get a better reach to the centipedes.
The Ranger cadets were in the rear of the troop, and they pierced centipedes left and right. The last few fireballs flew. Luther wanted to fly and rage and hurt things. He killed a few of the multi-legged army, but blades seemed more effective. Rangers and cadets wore boots that reached almost to their knees, and this served as good enough armor against the bites. Two more horses fell. The mass of centipedes trickled to a stop. They examined the bitten horses, and the Magi said there'd be no healing.
Druidic healing was powerful, but horses and men were different creatures. The spells and incantations were not the same. At least, that was Luther's understanding.
The troop traveled until sunset again. Juxta caught Luther's eyes. "I want a strong perimeter spell up around the whole camp. Not one of those centipedes can get through."
"I've never set up one that big."
"It's easy," Mathew said.
"You set one up, too, just inside his," Juxta said. "I'll set one up inside yours."
Mathew nodded, and a circle of light danced for a moment around the entire camp.
Luther thought back to the spell and the incantation. He drew a perfect circle just outside of Mathew's. The chants soon followed in a tiny whisper. Light flashed in a line around the camp. Juxta said, "Good."
Luther, Magi: Blood of Lynken II Page 6
