Gryphon (Rise of the Mages Book 2)

by Brian W. Foster

  Slowly, slowly, slowly, the heavy gate inched up. As soon it cleared her horse’s head, she ducked and darted forward. Tasia and Mortyn followed close behind. The two mages would step into the gap they’d left … if the old man didn’t have a heart attack first or the girl panic and run off screaming.

  Two soldiers manned the wall above as Ashley galloped under the gate—two soldiers who surely had bows—but she was forced to ignore them. Arrows could kill her as easily as magic, but they had to take out the mages first. All she could do was hope she wasn’t hit.

  Great plan.

  The remaining four soldiers waited, swords drawn and ready for action, in a semi-circle blocking the road. Five mages stood behind them, the two death mages on the far right.

  Ashley reined her horse. Before it even completed its stop, she focused on the mage farthest to the left and cut off his access to magic. Beside her, Tasia did the same and, hopefully, their newest allies as well.

  Mortyn raised the blowgun to his lips and puffed. The dart flew.

  Straight. No alteration in the trajectory. It struck the neck of the final death mage.

  Ashley let out a relieved breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. She might actually make it through the encounter alive.

  An arrow whizzed past her face, barely missing her nose. Another took Mortyn in the chest. The four soldiers on the ground advanced.

  Nothing to do about them for the moment. They had to take out the mages first.

  She held her block.

  Myles charged forward, his horse galloping between two of the soldiers. They dove out of the way. He swung his sword at the mage occupying Ashley.

  A pair of arrows lodged into Myles’ back, but it was too late. The blade connected. The man’s head severed, bounding to the dirt in a spray of red.

  Yes!

  She grinned. Time to end it.

  Light from the morning sun illuminated the scene, and that was all she needed. Instantly, she added energy to the rays, hitting exactly where she wanted. Mere light became lethal beams. Quarter-inch holes appeared in the heads of each of the Dastanarians.

  They collapsed to the ground.

  Maybe riding into battle herself wasn’t such a bad thing. That had been fun.

  * * *

  Ashley thrust her fists against her sides and growled.

  “I paid for these mages! That makes them mine, and I’m taking them to the castle.”

  Tasia and the old man had gotten the arrows out of the farmer and his son and healed them enough so that they weren’t in danger of dying, but they were in no condition to go anywhere but the short distance back to the woods to hide. Their two recruits, on the other hand …

  “What good will they do you against an army?” Tasia said. “Our best bet is to move quickly and quietly. They’ll only slow us down.”

  Argh! As much as Ashley hated to admit it, her cousin had a point. “Fine.” She glared at the two. “Stay here until nightfall. If I’m not back by then, go to the queen in Escon.”

  Tasia smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Can we go now?”

  “What are we waiting for?” Tasia said.

  Ashley would have just strangled her, but killing a death mage would take too long. “Follow me.”

  In the middle of Asherton, main roads leading to the south gate, to the north gate, and to the castle met up at the Grand Circle, and they didn’t run into a single person on the streets on their journey toward it. As they drew near, however, Tasia ducked into an alley.

  Ashley followed. “What?”

  “Eleven people in the circle. Must be a patrol.”

  Ashley grimaced. That was bad, blocking off the main route to the castle, and worse, they might be able to sense Tasia’s ability. With any luck, they’d just assume her to be part of another patrol. If spotted though …

  Actually, any one seeing the two of them would be bad since their dresses marked them as noblewomen. Ashley had to think. Surely, there was some way to get to the castle safely and ahead of the enemy forces.

  Crash!

  More loud noises followed.

  Ashley dismounted and went back to the alley entrance to peek around the corner. Tasia ducked in below her. Flames licked from the roofs of several structures on the far side of the circle, causing windows to explode. Fire burst from the next building, a spice shop.

  Ashley clenched her fists. The mages were destroying her city.

  A bakery collapsed from the roof down. As the top pieces of timber reached the ground, the whole thing exploded. A massive fireball erupted from the rubble, inflaming half the enemy soldiers and two of the mages and knocking the rest of them off their feet.

  “What caused the explosion?” Tasia said.

  Ashley shrugged.

  The farthest mage hurried to her feet and rushed to the two burning mages. Another waved his hand, and the fire disappeared. The woman stood over them. Probably a death mage trying to heal them.

  “Let’s move while they’re distracted.” Ashley pointed at a dress shop across the way. “There.”

  She darted across the street with Tasia at her heals. The roaring flames and cracking wood up the block concealed the sound as Ashley broke the shop’s window with a rock.

  They ducked inside.

  Ashley ran her finger over the course material of one of the dresses. “Ugh. As much as I hate the thought of looking like a peasant, it will make us less conspicuous.”

  “These are perfectly nice outfits suitable for the wives of craftsmen.”

  “So slightly richer peasants. What do I care?” Ashley picked one with a plunging neckline and shoved it at Tasia.

  “I can’t wear—”

  “We don’t have time to be choosy.” Ashley shucked the dress she was wearing.

  Tasia darted to the back of the shop.

  “No need to be modest,” Ashley said. “There’s no one about.”

  Tasia stood behind a rack of dresses. “I am not getting undressed in full view of the street, war or no!”

  “Fine.” Ashley quickly donned one and groaned. If anyone she knew saw her wearing such rags, she’d die of embarrassment.

  Wood beams creaked.

  Ashley looked up. “What—”

  “Masser!” Tasia yelled.

  The roof gave way.

  Ashley dove toward the front of the store as the middle of the building collapsed. She hid with her arms covering her head for several minutes as the dust settled.

  When she got up, she saw no sign of anyone on the street.

  “Tasia! Are you okay?”

  A faint voice came from the other side of a huge pile of rubble.

  “What?”

  “I said, I’m fine!” Tasia yelled. “But there’s no way for me to get through this.”

  “Are you trapped?” Ashley said.

  “I think I can get out the back.”

  Exiting the rear would put her in a maze of back alleys. On one hand, that would be good. Less likely to encounter enemy mages there. On the other hand, it would take forever for the two of them to meet up.

  “Go!” Ashley said. “Get out of the city. Fast! Before they re-secure the south gate.”

  She ran out the front door without waiting for an answer.

  99.

  Ashley stumbled over a piece of rubble lying in the dress shop’s doorway.

  Blinded by dust, she almost fell, which would have taken her right into the street where enemy soldiers and mages could spot her. After uttering a most un-ladylike curse, she righted herself.

  Close. Too close. Impulsively running around wouldn’t work. She needed a plan.

  The enemy army would mostly keep to the main roads, heading straight for the castle. That meant the back alleys would be clear of all except scouts and isolated patrols, giving her the best chance of making it through alive and uncaptured. But the narrow corridors were a maze only its citizens knew how to navigate, and it wasn’t like she ever ventured into that area.<
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  And even if she made it through, there was no way she’d get to the castle before King Barius.

  She had to do something, though, and getting herself killed would accomplish exactly nothing. With a frustrated snarl, she ducked between two random buildings at a fast walk. If she could somehow find her way to the boulevard ahead of the army’s advance, maybe she’d be in time to save her father.

  That might be possible. Dastanar’s troops seemed not to be in any hurry, stopping to kill and destroy along the way.

  Not ten minutes later, she was irrevocably lost. Her hopes vanished. She couldn’t even see the highest tower of the castle over the close buildings, and she’d twisted and turned so much she didn’t know which direction she was headed.

  Ashley spent the next hour running and backtracking from dead ends, her frustration and terror growing by the second. She turned a corner, and the street opened into a small square with a fountain in the center.

  A fountain filled with flowing water.

  She licked her parched lips. The last time she’d drank anything had been from a stream pre-dawn. Tasia hadn’t exactly thought to grab provisions or waterskins as they’d set out on their trip.

  As Ashley moved to step forward, a figure darted from the shadows—a man dressed in simple brown clothes. A peasant laborer. He was the first person other than the enemy soldiers she’d seen since entering Asherton.

  His presence startled her back onto the street, and she peeked around the corner of a building. Why was he there? He looked able-bodied enough to have either evacuated or been pressed into service defending the castle.

  The safest play would be to hide, but that would also consume the most time. Just as she determined haste was worth the risk, a noise drew her attention. The man, who was taking a drink, turned toward it as well.

  A half dozen tan-liveried Dastanarian soldiers and five brown-clad mages stepped into the square. The man turned and ran.

  A soldier laughed.

  “Shall I kill him?” a mage said.

  “A random peasant?” another said. “You can if you want, but I’m more interested in a drink of fresh water.”

  The first stared on as the peasant dashed out of sight into a building. “Not worth the effort.”

  They moved toward the fountain.

  Blast! Her father’s chances of making it out of alive dwindled by the second, and Ashley was stuck until they left.

  Half the soldiers set up a perimeter around the fountain, scanning for signs of trouble, while the rest of the soldiers drank. When the first soldiers finished, they exchanged places with the sentries. Only after the second group drank did the mages partake.

  Drat. They were being careful and meticulous, which didn’t bode well for her father’s chances. Better for the enemy to be careless and unorganized.

  After about five minutes of lounging, a mage called for the break to end, and they moved toward an alley at the opposite end of the square, lashing out at random buildings as they walked.

  Before reaching the alley, a soldier retched, followed seconds later by the rest who’d been among the first group to drink.

  “Poison!” a mage screamed.

  Viewed through magic, a black glow surrounded two of the mages and stretched to the soldiers. As the first three showed signs of recovering, however, the remaining soldiers and the three other mages started throwing up.

  The death mages split their attention among themselves and their fellows, abandoning their efforts to save the soldiers. One by one, the armed men fell, followed in quick order by the magic users until only the two death mages stood.

  Ashley struck, blocking the one surrounded by the strongest black glow. His eyes went wide as he glanced about, searching desperately for her. He sank to his knees.

  The other was too consumed with saving his own life to realize what was happening.

  A pair of hooded figures darted from a nearby building and were on the mages before either of them could react. Each figure wielded a blade and sliced one of mages’ throats.

  Wait. Something about the men’s movements tickled Ashley’s memory.

  “Sergeant Stokes!” she yelled.

  And the private. What was his name? Raleigh!

  The sergeant spun to face her, his expression as close to one of surprise as she’d ever seen on his face. “Lady Ashley? What are you doing here?”

  “I came to get my father out of the city.”

  Stokes barked out a harsh chuckle. “Good luck with that. The man’s as stubborn as a mule and twice as heavy.”

  She’d see which of them could be more stubborn when she reached him. “What happened here?”

  “Your father ordered us to kill mages by any means necessary. We’ve laid traps in buildings and poisoned wells.”

  “But a peasant drank from that very fountain just a moment before the mages appeared.” She didn’t care about the man, of course, but she could have taken a sip. How dare the sergeant put her life in danger!

  Stoke grinned. “He was one of my men. Took a drink when he knew the mages could see him and sprinted back to safety—and the antidote—as soon as he swallowed.”

  “That’s …” Insane. Demented. “Genius.”

  He bowed his head briefly. “My lady.”

  “New orders for you,” she said. “Get me to the castle.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady.” And his face really did look apologetic. “But you can’t countermand your father’s orders in this. I’m to kill them until they are dead or I am.”

  “But …”

  “You’ll never make it to the castle ahead of Dastanar’s army,” Stokes said. “Turn around. Get out of the city. Fast.”

  “I can’t. I have to save my father. Or at least try.”

  “And nothing I say will change your mind?”

  “Definitely not.”

  Stoke frowned. “In that case, cut through that alley there.” He pointed. “Second right, immediate left, third right, second right, fourth left. Got that?”

  “I … think so.”

  “Repeat it.”

  She stumbled over the words a couple of times as she tried to recall the order, but he pronounced her knowledge “good enough.”

  “My lady,” Stokes said with a bow. “I fear I must be off. If I could spare you men, I would, but …”

  Ashley narrowed her eyes. Failure of one of her father’s men to render her aid was disconcerting, but the man had killed an entire patrol of Dastanarians, both soldiers and mages. “Go.”

  With that, he ghosted into the shadows.

  She felt a sense of loss as he moved from her sight. He could have helped her get her father out the castle, but at least he was making King Barius pay. Asherton wouldn’t be taken without a butcher’s bill.

  No use dwelling on it, though.

  The route Stokes laid out for her took her far from any signs of destruction, but when she neared the mouth of the final alley, she found Dastanar’s army before her. Dozens, no hundreds, of mages and a thousand soldiers faced the castle. Most of her father’s army topped the wall, impotent. Their arrows fell straight to the ground, as did stones fired from trebuchets. There was literally nothing they could do against the enemy.

  Dastanar, meanwhile, took its time destroying surrounding buildings, burning peasants, and sowing destruction.

  Ashley scanned the top of the wall, hoping beyond hope that her father had come to his senses and fled. When her eyes reached the top of the parapet on the middle tower, her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t even need to enhance her sight magically. That huge giant of a man could only be one person, and the thin man beside him could only be Uncle Benj.

  Her father shouted something, and a section of the ground that Dastanar stood on gave way. A dozen mages fell onto spikes. Kineticists lifted them out fast, but the spikes must have been tipped with poison because most of them died despite immediate attention from death mages.

  That act of defiance turned Dastanar’s full attentio
n to the castle. Starting at each end of the wall and moving toward the center, Asherton’s solders burst into flames, were crushed by the weight of their armor, or flew over the wall to crash into the ground far below. Even more simply collapsed, unmoving.

  After the soldiers on the lower wall and other towers had been killed, the men standing beside Ashley’s father began to die. He raised his sword. Though a threatening figure at any other time, all could tell he held no power. Uncle Benj just stood there. She couldn’t bear to view his face, but she was sure he was resigned to his fate.

  Finally, only the two of them were left standing.

  The stones composing the tower began to fly apart. The tower leaned. And toppled.

  Ashley’s father and Uncle Benj fell, hitting the ground with thuds. Loose rocks pounded them.

  She was too stunned even to scream.

  100.

  Ashley stood frozen in horror.

  Dastanar’s mages destroyed the whole of the castle wall.

  She was too shocked to do anything, but even had she been able to move, there was nothing she could have done. The force arrayed against her was too overwhelming.

  All she could do was remain mute, hidden in the shadows, and watch as the destruction continued. In less than a quarter hour, not one of the wall’s stones sat atop another.

  With shouts of triumph and joy, the enemy moved en masse past the useless rubble and marched toward the castle. A few moments later, not a single brown-clad mage or tan-liveried soldier remained.

  Time passed, though she was largely unaware of how much, but still, Ashley stayed rooted in her spot. Afraid. Terrified.

  Finally, she dragged herself from the shadows. As much as she didn’t want to see, something drew her toward the place where her father and Uncle Benj lay.

  She’d seen them from afar and knew what she’d find there. And she really, really didn’t want to see it up close. There was no need to confirm that they were …

  But she had to.

  A weird compulsion drove her feet to the location her father had fallen.

  As she approached the spot, she hesitated. Until she saw him, his death wouldn’t be real. There’d be a tiny modicum of doubt.