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Blades of Sorcery

Page 9

by Terah Edun


  “And your imperial forces would outnumber us ten to one,” the Kade said. “We’re not fools. We pick our battles. We pick when and where to fight. And little by little, we’re wearing you down.”

  Sara looked at him in surprise. “Is that your tactic? A war of attrition?”

  The Kade leader sat back, satisfied. “Better that than a death by starvation. You and your empire are so sure you’re right. But you don’t even know what you’re fighting for. Or why.”

  Sara couldn’t really respond to that. He was right.

  “Nevertheless,” Karn said, sitting up, “we know what we’re going to be fighting for as of right now. Our freedom, and you, my nervous little jitterbug, are going to help us.”

  The Kade leader looked from face to face frantically, searching for an ally or, at the very least, someone who disagreed with the insane plan. When he found none, his shoulders slumped and Sara could have sworn he whispered, “I’m doomed.”

  Shaking her head, she told Ezekiel, “Get the others ready, please. I need to discuss something with Reben.”

  He raised a curious eyebrow but nodded and turned away to do what she’d asked.

  Sara walked off a bit to the side then waved Reben over.

  Lowering her chin, Sara said the words she’d been reluctant to voice: “Reben—I need you to do one more thing.”

  Reben yawned and nodded. “What is it, Mercenary Fairchild?”

  Reben put a lot more emphasis on the designation than Sara did, and it almost felt like a title rather than a rank, which made her equivalent or even lower-ranked than everyone here.

  Still, Sara spoke with authority. “Right now, you’re the only one who can get in and out of this bubble without us. I know we might need you for what we’re about to do, but I want you to promise me something.”

  Reben’s shoulders straightened at the seriousness in Sara’s tone.

  Sara took a deep breath. “We may not survive this magical attack against the mages. Even if we do, we may drop the shield wall only to find a phalanx of Kade invaders waiting on the other side to kill us all.”

  Reben stilled then said hesitantly, “I confirmed they were within their own shield walls. All of them.”

  Sara nodded. “I know, but they may not stay there. We, you, need to be ready if that’s the case.”

  “Tell me what to do,” Reben said.

  “Before we go in, I want you to go out one more time, scout the perimeter, and find the best route to take you out of the encampment unseen,” Sara said.

  “Then what?” Reben asked.

  “Then you run like hell to the first outer fortress for the imperial armed forces that you can find if we’re overrun,” Sara said. “And you tell them what happened here. Tell them what the Kades did and tell them our entire force was wiped out. Because the only way the Kades will be waiting for us is if every other measure failed.”

  “Yes, I understand,” said Reben miserably. “I’ll make sure it’s done.”

  “I don’t want your promise,” Sara said. “I want your word, your bond. You may be the only one who can get this message out.”

  “You’ve got it,” the woman with the weight of the world on her back said. Then she stood at attention and saluted.

  Sara gave her a bitter smile and a salute back as the sun rose.

  They were ready, no matter what came.

  12

  Before long, Reben was off on one more scouting mission.

  And Sara was left behind, to wait, to wonder. But she wasn’t aimless for long. She didn’t have a choice, after all.

  Grimly, she plastered a welcoming smile on her face as Ezekiel and Isabelle walked back over, a new member of their group trailing behind. He wasn’t new in the sense that he’d walked through the shield walls that instant—that would be impossible, after all—but he was unknown to Sara. And that made him the focus of her attention.

  Striding forward to meet them halfway, Sara studied his tall, solidly built form while she waited for Ezekiel to explain who he was. She didn’t have to wait long.

  Ezekiel lifted a hand to gesture toward the man. “This is the solution to our problems, Sara. He can guide as we take down the shield wall. He’ll not only take it down, he’ll leave them reeling.”

  Sara looked at Ezekiel. “High praise indeed. How is this the first time I’m hearing about this potential?”

  She couldn’t hold back her suspicious nature, and she wasn’t trying to. It wasn’t that she meant to disregard the searching Ezekiel had done within the group, but she had done some scouting before. When she was deep within her battle mage gifts, she had sought out and found the potential threats of all of the individuals surrounding her.

  This man had had none, and she trusted her intuition more than anything else. If he was able to do what Ezekiel was saying, his magic must be great indeed. And yet she sensed none.

  Sara said to him, “Forgive me my skepticism.”

  “No forgiveness needed,” he said in a deep voice as he reached out and shook her hand. “It’s an honor to formally meet the woman who led us so skillfully through this surprise invasion.”

  Sara didn’t bother responding to his compliment; flattery wouldn’t turn her head. But she was impressed by the force of his shake, as he matched her strength.

  Stepping back, the man folded his hands solemnly at his waist, his chainmail clinking with every movement, the only outward sign he’d done so at all. He was fast and smooth. Which partly explained why he’d been so successful on the field of battle. She may not have known who he was, but she did remember catching a glimpse of him on the battlefield, going toe-to-toe with the Kades, even a dragon a time or two. Though, she supposed, in those instances it would be toe to claw.

  Not used to giving praise, but realizing she’d attacked him from the start, Sara said, “I saw your moves. You’re quite good.”

  He nodded. “Thank you. I could say the same thing about you, Mercenary Fairchild.”

  Sara raised her eyebrows. “You know who I am.”

  “I’d be a fool if I didn’t after the fight you put on,” he said in a cultured voice with a twitch of his lips.

  “Which one?”

  He winked at her. “All of them. Everyone in the encampment knows your name.”

  Then he paused as all of their gazes flicked to the invisible, but present, shield walls that kept them trapped inside a bubble no bigger than a quarter of a mile in diameter.

  “Or rather, those that are still alive do,” he finished quietly.

  “I’m sorry to say I don’t know yours,” Sara replied, smoothing over the slightly depressing pause.

  Ezekiel cleared his throat. “This, Sara, is the battle mage who will get us out of this trap the Kades set—Arcnus Limern.”

  Sara still wasn’t convinced, but she could at least give him the benefit of the doubt. “And how will you do that?”

  She directed her question at Arcnus, not Ezekiel, because if she was going to support him, she needed to trust him.

  He replied without a hint of discomfort, “I’m a battle mage, ma’am. Trained and ready. This will be child’s play…if everyone does exactly as I say, that is.”

  Sara raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? Because I don’t sense a battle magic aura about you, and I’m very good at what I do.”

  Arcnus didn’t take offense at her challenge. “If you wouldn’t mind a demonstration?” he said quietly.

  Sara looked to Ezekiel, and he nodded.

  She said, “Very well.”

  Arcnus proceeded. He opened his hands wide and lowered his shields. Sara felt power rising off him in steady waves. Power different to what she had felt before. Oh, she had known he was a mage, but then and now, he wasn’t a battle mage. The question was, in what did his strengths lie?

  Sara said, “So you are a mage—that is proven. But your skills don’t lie in battle magic, and I’m not fond of dissemblers.”

  “There’s more than one kind of battle m
age, mercenary,” Arcnus replied. “I’m in the broad category of those who are weapons-proficient and use our gifts for offensive magic. I’m not a battle mage with a capital B, but I assure you I can and do more than hold my own in a fight. However, the usefulness of my gifts, and those of others like me, to the imperial army’s cause extends more to strategic deployments than actual.”

  Sara tilted her head, curious. “Tell me more.”

  This was more than she’d learned in entire weeks serving under Commander Karina. If she had been a true conscript of the Mercenary’s Guild, she would have been delighted, but as it was, Sara found herself with reservations. As of now, she knew that he had the sheer power needed to help fuel their escape, but could he direct it? The was the more immediate question. That was what they needed.

  He cleared his throat and continued, “I wasn’t being crafty, nor did I hide in our fights tonight with the Kades—I more than held my own. But I have been taught from the beginning of my training to shield my gifts, to hide their powers, and, more importantly, to mask the direction of the power I am using to target others.”

  “And why would that be?”

  He gave her a grim look. “After the time you spent in the forges, Mercenary Fairchild, it should come as no surprise that the imperial army possesses weapons with great and destructive magical potential. Weapons that most of the population, even the mages, have never heard of.”

  Sara nodded. She knew that. A particular set of vibrating orbs that she had seen on site came to mind. They were gorgeous spheres with no flaw that she could see. She had only been able to guess at the origination of their design, but she knew that whoever had crafted them was a master forger. It had been her job to feed magic to those orbs, to let them grow, to let their potential bask in the heat of the flames that arose in a magical forge. When she was done and they were taken away, she had never forgotten the sense she had gotten from them. The focus. The intent—to destroy. It was their sole purpose.

  Now she stared at a man who hinted about things she didn’t even speak of. She wasn’t sure she liked his casual knowledge of deep military secrets, either.

  “And how do you know so much?” Sara asked as she flipped the knife that had been dislodged from her wrist sheath almost by accident.

  She didn’t want to kill an ally. She took no pleasure in that. But a man who knew too much could be more dangerous than a Kade coming at you with weapons drawn. At least she could see one of them coming. Not to mention the threat if he was captured.

  He didn’t flinch at the threat in her voice. Instead, he turned one of his palms upward, gesturing for her weapon.

  “If I may?” Arcnus asked.

  Sara raised a brow as if to ask, Are you joking?

  Isabelle, who had up until now been silent, said, “Mercenary Fairchild, I know this man. I trust him as much as I trust the mercenaries of my own regiment.”

  Sara’s eyes flicked between Isabelle and Arcnus as he waited patiently. Then she flipped her knife, which had been spinning in her palm, until it was pommel outward.

  With her other hand securely on the hilt of her sword at her waist, Sara said, “Be careful with that.”

  With a small smile, Arcnus replied, “I will.”

  Then he gently took her extended knife and did something none of them expected: he lifted it in the air. Floating above his palm as light as air, the knife began to spin in a circle faster and faster. As it did so, it dipped up and down as effortlessly as a hummingbird. When he began to direct the knife through the air without even moving his hand, forcing it to dive quickly at person after person before stopping abruptly and then returning to his hand like a loyal hound, Sara had to admit that she was a tiny bit impressed.

  “So you have a form of movement magic?” she asked.

  He shook his head and explained as the knife fell into his palm with a flat smack. “Only over weapons, and only in so far as I can push them in the direction I choose.” He handed the knife back to her. “I am a strike mage. I monitor the arsenal of the imperial army and direct our greatest magical weapons to their targets.”

  Sara licked her lips. “That makes you what? A guidance system?”

  He smiled. “Precisely. There are two other strike mages in the imperial armies at the moment who can do what I do with weapons, but what makes me stand apart is that I can also use my magic to guide strikes from mages over far distances.”

  “Strikes that will wound them?”

  He smiled. “Strikes that will devastate them.”

  Faltering, Sara looked around. “But we don’t have much more than swords and knives here.”

  Isabelle cleared her throat. “That isn’t precisely true.”

  Sara raised an eyebrow. “I think I would have noticed a heavy weapons arsenal lying around.”

  “And you’d be right,” Ezekiel said. “But if the weapons were our minds?”

  Sara looked from Isabelle to Arcnus to Ezekiel. “I’d say we’re going to need a lot more information.”

  “Not a problem. I’m what they call the weakest link in mage school,” Isabelle said with a matter-of-factness that had Sara wondering how often she had to explain it.

  “But it’s really a strength,” Ezekiel said quickly.

  Sara kept her gaze on Isabelle, waiting for her to expand on her words.

  “The simplest way to explain it is that I can meld the gifts of one individual to another individual when needed,” Isabelle explained. “But I can only do it for so long, and the gift can’t be hidden.”

  “Hidden?” Sara asked.

  Isabelle shrugged. “On a battlefield, it tends to put a target on your back when you’re the chain holding together a bunch of logs. Break the chain and the logs tumble.”

  Sara pressed her lips together. “And we need this chain?”

  Arcnus interjected, “If you want an assault big enough to not only disrupt a distant casting but bring down at least one shield wall, then yes.”

  Isabelle nodded. “I can be the link, and we can use that to bind our weaker powers, usually not used for this kind of thing, into a kind of weave that makes us stronger.”

  Sara’s eyes flicked across their faces. “So we have the link and we have the direction—what about the assault itself?”

  They all looked at her, and she flinched.

  “No,” she said. “I don’t think you understand how my gifts actually work.”

  Isabelle smiled. “We have an idea. But you have to actually trust us, as much as we trust you, to see this through.”

  Sara said reluctantly, “I’m listening.”

  She stood back with her arms folded. And when Isabelle was done, Sara was impressed.

  “This might actually work.”

  Ezekiel nodded eagerly. “With Arcnus’s guidance, the power of a mental assault team behind him, and Isabelle’s special gift, we’d be on top of them before they even realized what hit them.”

  Sara nodded. “Let’s do it before I change my mind.”

  13

  Sara gathered everyone together.

  She looked every single person in the face, letting the solemnity and importance of this next move rest in her eyes. Some of them tensed up, automatically reaching for their weapons, as they looked around to see where the new threat was coming from. But this was one they couldn’t see, and she reached out and squeezed their shoulders as she passed.

  They didn’t understand now, but they would soon. She went row by row, face by face, and then walked to the front of the group. It had been done to truly see who she was with, study faces she’d only seen glimpses of in her rush to move between enemies, and now she had seen their eyes, and through that—their souls.

  It had also been about giving them a chance to see her, which was only fair—considering what she was about to ask them to do.

  Everyone was silent, contemplative, as she took her place. At Ezekiel’s nod and Arcnus’s steady look, Sara took a breath and began to explain the tactic that even she only
understood in theory. But theories were what they were running on at the moment. Better than a half-assed prayer to a god who wasn’t listening, but only by so much.

  “We have one chance to get this right,” Sara said. “One chance to bind our magic together as one unit. One chance to break through this shield.”

  There were uneasy shuffles through the group, and Sara caught the eyes of individuals who ducked her gaze, until one person stepped forward.

  He spread his arms wide and gestured at the collective mages at the front of the group. “I understand why you’ve gathered the mages, but what has this to do with the rest of us?”

  One or two murmured in agreement. No one was backing out; they seemed genuinely baffled as to what they could do for the cause—besides stand around with their balls in hand, that is.

  Marx spoke up. “You know we’re ready to rumble the second you say ‘go,’” he said. “But there’s nothing for us to do here.”

  Sara shook her head. “You underestimate your worth and our enemy.”

  She glanced back over at the Kade invasion leader who was tied to a pole far enough away that he could still see them but couldn’t eavesdrop.

  Marx shrugged. “I’m an infantryman—it’s not my job to assess the enemy’s potential tactics. What is my job is to do it, and I don’t know what can be done here.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “No offense. I’m not trying to question you, just what you want us to do.”

  Sara didn’t take offense. She clasped her hands together at her waist and replied, “A good question with a simple answer. We may be doing the mage-work, but the majority of us will be effectively defenseless—so deep in unity, so deep in the bond, that we might as well be sheep lined up for the slaughter.”

  “The majority?” said Marx with arms crossed.

  Sara shrugged. “I’ve learned that I’m less…susceptible to mage holds, even ones I’ve volunteered for, after dealing with the hobbling mage from before. I think I should be able to be at least aware—if not mobile—if necessary but I can’t cover everybody, I’m not inhuman you know.”

 

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