Rising of a Mage: Book 03 - A Mage Risen

by J. M. Fosberg

  Fredin was impressed. The smaller orc was very fast. Weigand had figured it out the moment he saw those swords. He was intentionally playing himself as a fighter who relied on his strength to overpower the other and, Fredin saw, he had made the smaller orc overconfident in his speed. Fredin had to be proud of his son. Now he just had to wait and watch as his son’s plan played out.

  When Weigand rolled to his feet, Wenig was already on him. Weigand blocked the thrust of the first blade just before it buried into his stomach. Then he pivoted to block the slash coming in at his right shoulder. He swung his blade out, forcing Wenig back. Then he leapt forward, making another wide, arcing swing with his greatsword. The swing turned him around so that his back was turned toward Wenig, and Wenig though he had him. He leapt in, thrusting high and low. But before his blades found flesh, Weigand’s greatsword shot out and buried into his chest. As he turned he had switched his grip and pushed his blade straight out behind him. Wenig had literally thrown himself on the end of his opponent’s sword.

  Weigand pulled his sword free and then lopped off the old clan chief’s head. He slammed his sword down into the ground. Then he bent down and took the orc’s sword belt. He buckled it on, picked up the two swords, and slid them down into their scabbards. Then he lifted his greatsword up and slid it back over his shoulder.

  “What are you gonna do with those?” Fredin asked.

  “In case my greatsword gets snagged,” Weigand replied. Then he turned toward the orcs who had gathered around to watch. “Gather the Gerings.”

  It took half the day before the Gerings were gathered. Fredin hated to lose the time, but the challenge was one of the only traditions the orcs followed. This was also his son’s first challenge, and he was enjoying the spectacle. When the Gerings were finally gathered he watched his son march before them.

  “I am Weigand of the Dungins. I claim the Gerings. Who will challenge?” He waited. When no one challenged him, he continued. “The Gerings are dead. We are the Weigands until the time that we become Dungins again.”

  Fredin was proud. His son had just gathered another fifteen thousands orcs to them. He gave the clan chiefs orders to set camp, as night was approaching. He would take a hundred orcs and whatever clan chiefs wanted to come up the hill to meet with the humans.

  Vingaza stood on the hill watching the orcs march toward him. He had never seen an army of any race as big as this one. He had seen armies of a thousand, even two thousand, and one time he saw almost ten thousand goblins. This was something different. This was well over a hundred thousand. The army went on for miles. When they were about a mile from the hill, the army stopped.

  Vingaza watched from his elevated vantage point as a small group gathered at the front of the massive army. These must be the leaders. He had never heard of orcs who were this organized before. After a while he saw the group spread out. In the center were only two. Then he saw the light reflecting off steel. He couldn’t follow the fight from this distance, but he saw that it ended with the one on the ground being relieved of his head. That was the behavior he had expected.

  Vingaza waited for hours as a huge group of the orcs moved from the back of the formation to the front. Then cheering and squealing was heard for a long time. The whole orc army began setting camp. Whatever they had been doing had taken half the day.

  Now he watched as a small contingent walked up the hill. In the front were a dozen of the biggest orcs. Behind them came another hundred orcs. These orcs were from the first and biggest group, which Vingaza had seen earlier that day marching in columns and setting up camp in orderly rows. They demonstrated the discipline of a human army, while everything behind them had been a mob. These were like the orc version of knights, the best of the soldiers. The walked in ten columns of ten behind what he now counted as eleven orcs in the front.

  Vingaza waited at the top of the hill with Malvagio and Cattivo standing on either side of him. There were another dozen wizards behind him, each with their own guards. As the orcs approached he easily picked out the leader. He was a full head taller then the one next to him, who was nearly a head taller then the rest. He walked in the center and all of the others gave him and the ones on either side of him plenty of space.

  When they got close to the humans, Fredin put a hand in the air. He took a couple of steps forward with Weigand on his right and Gescheit on his left. The other clan chiefs stayed a few paces back where they could still hear but wouldn’t be involved in the conversation.

  “I am Fredin of the Dungins and leader of the horde. Beside me is my son, Weigand, chief of the Weigand clan and one day the Dungins as well. To my right is my advisor, Gescheit. Behind me are the chiefs of the other eight clans. Behind them are a hundred orcs who will sound the call to the others before running all of you down if you attempt to attack any of us.”

  Vingaza was impressed. Orcs were typically ignorant. The few he had actually encountered couldn’t build sentences; they had spoken like children. “Before we get to business, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  “You can ask. I won’t promise you answers,” Fredin replied.

  Vingaza smiled. He liked this orc. Well, as far as orcs went, anyway. “The clan in the front of the horde is your clan, is it not?”

  “That was not really a question.”

  “No, I suppose it wasn’t. You said your son is a clan chief, but he would one day be the chief of your clan. I thought that orc clans could only be taken. How is it that your clan will let your clan pass to your son like a human throne?”

  “There may be challengers, but that is unlikely. By the time my son takes my clan his son will be grown. If someone challenged, they would have to be able to fight my son, then me, then his son. It is the way the Dungins have controlled the clan for centuries. We breed the biggest, strongest, fastest and only intelligent orcs, aside from my advisor, that is.”

  “You have appeased my curiosity for now. Thank you for indulging me. For now I guess we should get to figuring out the plan. How long will it be before you can have your horde at Evermount?”

  “We are only a couple of hours away. I will have orcs climbing the mountain when the sun comes up,” Fredin replied.

  “Well, then, we don’t have much time to plan. I guess we should get started.” Vingaza said with a smile. He was going to enjoy this. He was going to participate in a war with almost no threat of actually being in harm’s way. He had expected to have to deal with some stupid brute, but he had been pleasantly surprised.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Anwar and the Black Dragons

  Anwar, Rundo, and Grundel stood in one of the training grounds inside the wizards’ guild. “Follow me,” Anwar said, as he headed for the door into the guild. There were six different courtyards like this throughout the guild. This is where Anwar had first learned to travel, where he had spent countless hours working with Mariah as she trained with her sword and he trained with his staff. The memories flooded back. The love in those memories drove him on. He had to do this for her. He had to be good enough. He couldn’t let them win. He couldn’t let the power consume him.

  They walked down three halls on their way to Master Gabriel’s office when they finally saw someone.

  “Master Anwar, it’s really you! You are going to save them aren’t you?”

  “Stop. Calm down. What is your name?” Anwar asked the boy. He looked familiar. He was about sixteen or seventeen with curly blond hair and big, blue eyes that were filling with tears.

  “I am Steven, Master Anwar. You used to teach my class about magical items.”

  “That’s right. I remember you now. You have grown a lot since I left. Okay, Steven, I just got here. Where is Master Gabriel?”

  “They took him, Master Anwar, him and Master Gibbins. They killed the smith who used to work with your brother in front of the guild and said if they didn’t come out they would keep killing people. I saw the whole thing. When the masters went out, they tied them up and hauled
them off to the square. Some guards came then. They killed most of them. A couple lived. They took them to the square, too. One of them was Captain Eric. They have them all locked up in the square for everyone to see. One of the guards died in one of those things last night. You know the wooden things with the three holes for the head and the hands? The ones they use when flogging people? Well, one of the guards’ legs was hurt real bad and last night he strangled in that thing. They got new ones now so they won’t strangle. They say they are going to cut off Captain Eric’s head tonight if you don’t show, then tomorrow the other guard. Then Master Gibbins. Then Master Gabriel. They say.”

  The mention of his brother stung him more then the boy could know. He probably didn’t even know that Cannen was dead. “Okay. Stop. I get it. I’m here. I’m not going to let that happen. Do you know how many of them there are?”

  “The man said thirty wizards and thirty assassins, but I don’t know if he was telling the truth.”

  “He probably was. The Black Dragons aren’t known to bluff. Are they all in the square or are they spread out through the city?”

  “I don’t know, Master, we were all told to stay inside. The whole city really is staying inside. No one wants to be the next ones to go in those blocks.”

  “Don’t worry, Steven. I am going to take care of it. I even brought some friends, and Master Gabriel can take care of himself. When he sees me he will fight. He is only letting them hold him because he doesn’t want more people to get hurt. Just stay inside.”

  Anwar looked at Grundel and Rundo then nodded for them to follow. When they got to the entrance of the guild he stopped. “Okay, listen. They aren’t going to all just stand in a group so I can kill them all. They will be spread out. They are going to use people’s homes for cover to try to keep us from getting at them. This is a trap for me. I am going to spring it. I will raise a shield and walk out into the square.”

  Rundo started to object, but Anwar cut him off before he could get a word out.

  “Don’t start, Rundo. Listen, with the amount of power inside me they could have a hundred wizards and not get through, a thousand even. All right. Now I will go out there and let them start attacking me. I'll get the people free. You guys get some cover, and start taking out any Black Dragons you see. Use the daggers and axes and stay behind cover. They have wizards. If you expose yourself they will be able to attack you. Once I see you enter the fight and I know where you are, I’ll be able to put a shield around you, but until then you will be vulnerable. Give me five minutes and then make your way to the square—it’s down the street out here, three blocks, then take a right. That street leads to the main square. By the time you leave, there should be enough going on to guide you anyway. Remember, give me five minutes to get all of their attention on me.”

  Anwar walked out of the guild and made his way down to the square. He raised a shield around himself. He couldn’t use a shield that would send the magic back when he released the shield because there were going to be civilians around, and he had to be deliberate with his methods. He couldn’t be careless. It wouldn’t help to save a couple lives if he lost control and killed hundreds of innocent people.

  When he turned the last corner and started walking into the square, he saw them. Master Gabriel was in the middle. On one side of him was Captain Eric, and on the other side was Master Gibbins. There was another soldier sagging in another of the pillories. On the other side of Captain Eric was another soldier who seemed unharmed.

  Anwar walked straight across the square toward them. When he was halfway across, a Black Dragon wizard walked out of a building between him and them on the right end of the square. He started making his way across the square to cut him off.

  Anwar stopped and let the man come out to make his grand declaration before springing the trap. The Black Dragons were two things if they were nothing else: dramatic and predictable.

  “Anwar Alamira! I am Pedina of the Black Dragons Guild. Surrender now, and the people of this city will be left unharmed.”

  Anwar did what he thought the person leading these men wanted him to do. A line of electric energy shot from his hand and slammed into the man's chest. He jerked for a second before falling to the ground.

  Balls of fire and electricity came at him from nearly every direction. Anwar started walking again. The attacks wouldn’t have upset his shield even before he had come into his unimaginable power.

  Then balls and lines of black energy slammed into his shield. They didn’t phase his shield. They would have been enough to get his attention before, though. He shot a small ball of energy at the locks on each of the pillories. The locks blew off, and each of the men came out of his restraints. “Gabriel, get them out of here now.” He threw a shield over them.

  Just as he had expected, when the dragons saw their captives escaping, they fired crossbow bolts and balls of fire at the captives, which slammed into his shield. A few seconds later he saw that they were all gathered together in a huddle, and then they were gone. He had been hoping that Gabriel would still have his enchanted ring on. He waited for the next attack so he could follow it back to its source. Fire slammed into the shield, and he looked over to the top of a building. He shot a magic bolt through the chest of the man perched there. His shield broke as if it were made of glass. Then Anwar was bombarded from the back. He turned around to find at least a dozen Dragons on the far roof, some firing magic down, others shooting crossbows. He raised a wall of fire on the far side of the roof and pulled it back toward himself. Two of the men saw the fire coming up behind them in time to leap from the roof. The rest burned where they were or fell from the roof and died.

  Rundo and Grundel were still waiting outside the guild when they heard the first sounds of fighting. It hadn’t been five minutes, but the intention was for everyone to have their attention on Anwar. It sounded like conditions were met. They surely would be by the time they ran all the way there.

  They ran three blocks and turned right. When they did they found their guide. Fire and lightning were flying through the air. It looked like a volcano was fighting with a thunderstorm. When they got to the edge of the square they crouched behind the edge of the first building. Grundel saw a low wall across the street. It wasn’t much, a low stone wall that was probably used to contain small animals that were being sold at market, but it was better to have stone in between him and a ball of fire than nothing. He didn’t want to get far from Rundo. If they were close they could watch each other’s back and Anwar wouldn’t have to try to keep track of both of them while he was fighting. The last thing the world needed was for him to accidentally kill one of his friends. That would surely push him over the edge. He tapped Rundo on the shoulder and pointed to where he was going. Rundo nodded and looked back at the fight.

  Not far where he stood, Rundo saw the roof go up in flames. Two men made it off that roof. The first man who leapt from the roof of the five-story building was not a wizard; he fell the five stories quickly. He was either dead or out of the fight; it didn’t matter to him. The other used magic to slow his descent. Rundo let his dagger fly at the wizard, but it slammed into a magical shield. When the wizard turned and looked at Rundo, Grundel’s axe blew through his shield and caved in his chest.

  Anwar saw the axe slam into the falling wizard. He followed its path back to Grundel and saw him crouched down behind a wall. Across the street from him Rundo was climbing the side of a building. He raised shields over both of them. The shields would protect them as long as they didn’t let anyone get inside of it. He wasn’t going to be able to focus on them enough to hold the type of shield he had around himself. His shield was a magical barrier of armor around himself, while their shields were more like bubbles around them. If they got in a hand-to-hand fight it was up to them, but anything outside of sword range they were protected from. With them protected, Anwar returned his attention to the fight. A ball of black energy slammed into his shield. He sent a green ball of energy back. Then he started attra
cting the attention of the men on the roof that Rundo was climbing to get.

  Rundo climbed up the wall of the building he was hiding behind. Halflings made great thieves because they were naturally nimble. Rundo used that ability now. There weren’t a lot of handholds for a full-grown man, but for his small fingers there were plenty. He went up the wall as fast as if he were climbing a latter. He saw a couple of balls of fire slam into the top of the building as he peeked his head over the edge. That was his opportunity, and he came over the wall. There were nine men on the roof; six of them were firing and reloading crossbows, and so they were less likely to be protected with magic. He let his two daggers fly. They both flew true. The first buried in the back of the skull of the man on the far right as he was reloading his crossbow. The second slammed hilt-deep into the back of the man at the other end of the line. The magically enchanted daggers returned to their sheaths before the men fell over, dead or dying. The next man from the end had just finished reloading when he noticed the man next to him fall. When he turned behind him to look, he saw Rundo just as he was letting go of the next dagger. The man tried to get out of the way but caught the dagger in his hip as he was spinning. He fired his crossbow when the dagger caught him, and the bolt slammed into the gut of the wizard he was there to protect. The wizard fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. He was still a threat, but less of one than the others. Four were down and Rundo’s fifth dagger was already flying. His sixth had just made it back to its sheath, which meant that the wound in the crossbowman’s hip was open now that the dagger wasn’t sealing the wound. He let that one fly, too. The first of those two daggers slammed into the back of another crossbowman as he let loose another bolt at Anwar. The other hit the second wizard in the back of his neck. He would be dead in a minute. The third wizard turned around and called to the two crossbowmen next to him. Rundo threw the dagger that had just made it back to his sheath and leapt over the side of the building.