by Jon Bender
Moving deeper into the impressive room every one bowed at his approach, keeping low in difference to their king. Stepping onto the daises on which the throne sat he took in the ornate chair. Dozens of great Kings had sat here since the first of them had formed Ale’adaria, unifying the many lords who thought to claim power after the mage wars. It was carved from white marble with a large golden falcon embedded in the back rest. Gold had been hard to come by in that time, having all been spent to fund the wide spread fighting after the mages had fallen from power. His ancestor Tragon Baldwin had commissioned the chair regardless of that fact. Displaying his power to the other lords and ultimately joining them all under his falcon banner. Sitting down he raised a hand indicating his subjects to rise, his chancellor waving the first petitioner forward to begin the audience.
Corin spent several hours hearing the people’s problems before calling an end to the session. Even while helping two minor lords who owned farms to settle a land dispute, or to hear merchants ask for more patrols on the trade routes to protect from bandits; his mind was still occupied with other things. Jaxom traveling to the north looking for something they were not even sure was there, Nelix and Celia in the south risking their lives to buy him time, and the issues he still had to deal with here not the least of which was Serin and his mages. Standing after sorting out a tax issue for one of his Holding Lords, his subjects bowed once more as he left the throne room. His back ached from sitting so long in the uncomfortable throne, but it was a small price to pay for his kingdom. Moving up through the palace Corin prepared for the next business that needed his attention. The council room was already occupied by officers and advisors. He had wanted one more meeting before the army marched south. Reports he had received from General Blackburn had not been encouraging. The enemy had gone against the usual tactics of keeping their forces together when invading a territory, instead breaking into smaller groups to sweep across Ale’adaria like a great wave. Looting and foraging the abandoned holdings for supplies, and to top it off they had split the mages with them. Some would have considered such a tactic unwise by making the mages easier to pick off. A fact proven by General Blackburn who had confirmed killing a number already since Celia’s disastrous discovery. It had been ill-fated his cousin was the first to learn of their methods, nearly costing her whole unit. Fortunately she had acted quickly and correctly, the first of the two far more important than the second. There was nothing worse than a commander who could not make a decision, even if it was the wrong one. He had been concerned she would not be able to do what was necessary but was happy to be proven wrong.
Returning his attention to the matter at hand he looked about the room. “Where do we stand with preparations to march?” he said.
“We need another two days to have everything ready your majesty,” a man to his left said. Lord Garion who was responsible for a holding far to the west near the ocean, had taken the position as his foremost advisor for the army. He was a competent man but the slow pace of life from that part of the kingdom was evident in his manner.
“It has been more than a ten-day Lord Garion. Do you expect General Blackburn to win the war with only a thousand men?” Corin said feeling anger at the delays building within him. “He is losing men almost every day to buy us time.”
“Of course not your majesty. It is just that we do not have all that is needed ready to move,” Garion said, obviously shaken that his king was angry with him.
“Has the remainder of the food stores been loaded?” Corin asked.
“No, that is part of the problem. It has not all arrived from the outer holdings.”
It had taken too much time already. Corin could feel time slipping away and he had to move now. “You have till tomorrow to get all the food loaded, and whatever else you can in that time. The food is what we will need the most, I do not want to scavenge from the land while we fight.” Wars had been lost because armies had been too busy looking for supplies.
“Your maj…” Corin raised a hand stopping the man’s objection.
“I do not care how. If you have to have men run with sacks all the way to the city, I do not care. Just get it done,” Garion nodded his head. His king had commanded it so he would find a way.
Turning to the others in the room he found Henrick his treasurer with an expression that said he was calculating everything around him. The older man had been a very successful merchant before he had retired, only taking the position at the request of Corin and from the sense of duty he felt to the kingdom that had made him rich. “How do our coffers fare Master Henrick?”
“Well your majesty, we have had many good years, and as such revenue has been plentiful. All the items needed have been paid for in full and we have ample coin to pay the men.” Pausing for a moment he seemed to be considering his words. “I know it does not matter, but we will not be broke at the end of this.”
“Of course it matters Master Henrick. It would not do to win this war only for our people to freeze in the winter because they cannot afford coats,” Corin said. “Thank you.” Henrick gave a low bow in recognition of his gratitude.
Now for the final matter which Corin had not been looking forward to. Serin Valsch had been standing quietly in the room while Corin had spoken to the others. The fire mage’s thin frame was relaxed giving an air of boredom. He had never liked the man, sure that a majority of Jaxom’s alienation was because of him. Jaxom did not seem to care that he had never been accepted into the mage’s circle, not even allowed into the castle they called home. A castle that resided within Corin’s city. He had spoken to the mage’s leader on the subject but the man had refused to listen, saying that Jaxom’s kind was not welcome in their home. Besides the mage’s obvious prejudice towards his friend, Corin believed there was another reason for his attitude. It was not clear how the political structure was formed among the mages, but Corin did know it was linked to their abilities. Sarin was the most powerful mage of that castle, having held their leadership since before Corin became king. Jaxom was not always confident in his power but Corin knew that his friend was stronger than he thought. He may not be a match for the old man in raw destructive power, but Jaxom’s versatility made him far more dangerous. That fact may threaten the fire mage’s place as leader and be the reason for Jaxom’s alienation.
“Magus Serin, I will require fifty of your mages ready to leave in the morning.” Corin said struggling to keep the snarl from his voice.
“Yes your majesty, I will be among those going to ensure that they perform well in your service,” he said giving a small bow.
More likely the man saw this as an opportunity to gain more influence in court. Corin suspected Serin was not happy with the power he currently held, secretly wanting to rule as the mages of the past had before the mage war. That war had seen a law formed among all mages and leaders in each kingdom. The death and suffering caused in that time had forced the mages to recognize that it was not for them to rule. Their egos and thirst for power had led to the war and the death of many mages, which was the reason there were so few of them even today.
“Very well then,” Corin said still not trusting the man. The meeting only lasted another few minutes before he left them to attend to the details of their tasks. It was late and there was still work to be done before he could finally rest.
Chapter 14
Jaxom’s throat ached from where the risen man had choked him, and was sure there was a large bruise across his neck from its hand. He had woken that morning slumped over the neck of his horse. Ropes securely tying him to the saddle with large metal cylinders bolted over his closed fists. The manacles where an ingenious idea he was forced to admit, they restricted his ability to cast through the thick metal. Drawing death into himself, Jaxom had tried to force it through the bindings but it was of no use. He could not form the blight.
His friends had been similarly bound to their mounts and Da’san had been gagged with a piece of cloth torn from his robes. There were twenty-five of
the enemy risen around them, including the ones he had charred last night. Some carrying the weapons they had taken from the group, his sword he was glad to see among those captured. Beyond guiding the horses they paid no attention to the captives, walking with vacant stares showing no emotion. At some point during their capture Brenin and Adriana had both been wounded. Brenin’s shoulder was stained with red while Adriana had a long cut down her arm, both of the injuries having been crudely bound by the risen. Apparently whoever they were headed too wanted them all alive.
He did not know who this person was, but there was no doubt that he or she was a death mage. Jaxom was not sure how to feel about that. On one hand he now knew that he was not the only one, but that the death mage had attacked and captured him and his friends. Not to mention they had tried to kill him on more than one occasion. The goal from the beginning was to find out who this person was and what they intended. Jaxom morbidly thought this was one way to do it, and wondered if he could get Cribble to believe this was all part of the plan. Looking over to the surely guard captain, the man spit on one of the risen guards walking next to his mount and chuckled to himself. Not likely.
Deciding he had nothing better to do perhaps the time could be spent trying to get some information. “Hey, are you listening? I want to talk to you,” he yelled at the risen leading his horse. Adriana riding nearby stared at him as if he had gone crazy. Ignoring her Jaxom continued yelling at the animated man “I know you can hear me. I said I want to talk.”
“And what is it you wish to talk about Magus Jaxom,” the risen replied in a raspy voice. Adriana now stared at the speaker as if she was the one who was going crazy.
“I want to know what you plan to do with us,” Jaxom said. If he was honest he’d admit to being just as surprised as Adriana that their captor had responded.
“For now I will bring you back to my palace so that we may discuss some matters that concern us both.” The risen replied.
“And after that?” Jaxom asked, having no idea what this evil murderer could want to talk about.
“Well that is up to you.”
Jaxom did not know what the speaker meant, but knew it could not be good. “Who are you?”
“That will all be revealed once you arrive,” the speaker said. After that the risen man had gone quiet not responding to anything Jaxom said. Giving up on getting the death mage to talk he sat back and waited.
It was not long before the trees began thinning, the group and their escorts coming out into a large break in the forest spanning for tens of miles. It was all tall green grass on what looked to have once been farmland. In the distance a large city stood, its shape a dark contrast to the green surrounding it. It was as big if not bigger than Ale’adar, and unlike many other cities which grew randomly around a central place, this one seemed to have been thought out beforehand. Jaxom now understood what Adriana meant when she had described it to him. The city was circular with a wall surrounding its entirety. He could see through a massive open gate in the outer wall straight down a street to the inner wall and the palace behind that. In the defensive terms it made no sense to have such straight lines. Like other mages Jaxom enjoyed a sense of order to his life, and if mages had built this city they would have wished it as orderly as possible regardless of the obvious strategic weaknesses.
All of his companions, excluding Adriana who had seen it before, stared in wonder at the preserved city. To find this in what was thought to be uninhabitable wilderness was astonishing in itself, but the grandeur of it was something else entirely. Jaxom saw Adriana give the looming city a glance, looking away quickly as a chill passed through her. All her life she had been told that to enter the city was to die and here she was doing just that. He did not know what was waiting for them in there but he doubted it would be pleasant. Still, there was a sense of excitement creeping through him, the thought of meeting another mage like him opened up the possibility to have so many questions answered. Yes he was scared, but he looked forward to walking through that city and into its palace.
A cobblestone road had appeared underfoot during their approach and an hour later they were passing through the gate and outermost buildings of the city. They were all made of grey stone neatly mortared together and as organized as the streets were. Most were three stories tall with broken glass in the windows or the caved in roofs. The walls however were sound and solid, looking as if they had been built only a short time ago. They passed what had once been shops, one holding empty mannequins behind smashed glass where a tailor would have displayed his wares. There was a Smithy with its large chimneys and a sign in the shape of an anvil hanging out front, the paint long faded from the wood. Taverns, Inns, Bakeries, everything a city needed was there, lacking only the people to make it real. Without inhabitants it was simply an empty shell, devoid of life much like the risen escorting them.
The avenue they were on branched into smaller roads moving off to the left and right, curving away out of sight eventually leading right back to the same spot. It was not long before they arrived at another large stone wall with two great archways standing side by side. Passing under the raised portcullis the other side of the wall held a more elaborate part of the city. The houses and buildings were much finer than those previous, many having marble carvings and decorative ironwork. This would have been where the lower nobility and wealthier merchants lived. Some of the houses were enclosed behind gates, the gardens within had become overgrown turning the courtyards into miniature forests.
As they approached the palace, Jaxom noticed that other walls also ran the length of the city. Mirroring the avenue they were on it effectively sectioning the city into even smaller parts like the cuts made to slice up a pie. At the final barrier before the palace itself, heavy iron bound doors standing almost eighteen feet tall were closed before them. As they came closer to the massive doors they began to open, swinging out wide to reveal yet another portcullis being raised. Jaxom reconsidered his position on the defensibility of this city. Even with its straight lines an invading army would have a difficult time capturing it. If they breached the outer perimeter of the city. The defenders could simply seal that section off, attacking from the surrounding walls and turning that part of the city into a death trap.
Ushering them in, the risen untied the ropes pulling them roughly from the saddles and dragging them into the palace. With their hands still bound the risen led them deeper inside making so many turns that Jaxom was not able to keep track. Giving up on trying to map their path in his mind, Jaxom realized that if they did manage to get free it was going to be difficult finding a way out of the labyrinth like palace. Some minutes later they came to a door where Jaxom was separated from the others, the rest of the party were taken through the door and down a dark flight of stairs. He struggled against the two risen holding him trying to break free and get to his friends but it was of no use, his guards did not even notice besides to jerk the rope attached to his manacles.
More turns and the risen stopped in front of an arch way that led into a large library. When Jaxom made no move he was shoved forward. Taking cautious steps he slowly walked onward, examining the grand collection of books that surrounded him on shelves reaching to the ceiling. The room was well lit by oil lamps and the small flames of candles sitting on the long wooden tables at the center of the room. From among the free standing shelves a man stepped out holding an open book in his hands, continuing to read as he walked to one of the tables taking a seat. Seeming to take no notice of Jaxom he flipped slowly through the pages engrossed in whatever he found there.
“Come Jaxom have a seat, there is much we have to talk about,” he said finally looking up. Walking forward Jaxom attempted to scoot a chair back with his incased hands and not having much success. “Forgive me, I had forgotten about your bindings.”
Stretching out his hand a ribbon of black smoke stretched for Jaxom. Trying to flinch away the ribbon split in two wrapping around his wrists forming bands that he could not physical
ly feel. What he did feel came from within, the power he had drawn to attack his captor seemed to disintegrate almost as if the power had rotted away inside of him. The man gave a small knowing smile that irritated Jaxom. One of the risen at the archway came forward then pulling a key from somewhere and unlocking the iron encasing his hands, leaving the cursed manacles on the table before moving back.
Flexing his hands to relieve the cramps that had developed from hours of confinement, Jaxom studied the man before him, burning every detail into his mind. He was middle aged around forty with short black hair and matching black eyes, a fitted black shirt showing a body that was strong and healthy. While sitting it was hard to estimate how tall the older man was, but Jaxom guessed him to be a little taller than six feet. His features were sharp lines creating a look that most women would consider handsome and it struck Jaxom then he had seen this person before. Every time he had gazed into a mirror, a face similar to this man had looked back at him.
“Ah, you see the similarity don’t you?” the man said. “Do not worry young mage, I am not your father,” he said with a laugh.
Jaxom had not actually considered that possibility but he was thankful to hear the man say so. “Who are you then?” Jaxom asked.
“My name is Alimar Mors, and though I am not your father we are related… though very distantly,” he said.
There were so many questions he wanted to ask, and the other death mage seemed more than willing to talk. Where was he to start? He should begin with what the man wanted and why he had attacked Corin. Instead he set aside duty for the moment he asked what mattered to him. “Are we the only ones?”
Alimar’s face went blank at the question. “As far as I know yes, I have heard nothing of other death mages in any of the kingdoms. I learned of you some years back but you were very young and not yet able to understand.”
“Understand what?” Jaxom asked.
