The Flames of Deception - A Horizon of Storms: Book 1

by AJ Martin

  His eyes widened. “When?”

  “Several weeks ago. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you word sooner. The council assembled an emergency meeting shortly after they learned of the news. They have decided to continue with the current plan.”

  “You mean they don't intend to help stop Sikaris?” he asked.

  “They believe that all our resources still need to be focused on stopping the Return. I would be inclined to agree, if they went about it with any logic and sought the help of the princess.”

  “Speaking of which, has there been any word of Matthias or the princess?”

  Embaer shook his head. “None. But Fenzar is still looking for them. The council have stressed that now more than ever Josephine needs to be caught. Last I heard he had a lead on them in Olindia and was closing in on her. How true that is I don't know.”

  Augustus sighed and rubbed his head. “I wish I knew what to do now,” he said. “But I don't know what we can accomplish. If Fenzar catches Josephine, or worse, if the princess is dead already, then we will have to place all our hopes in the Chancellor and the council.”

  “Would you really call it a plan?” Embaer scoffed. “The wizards they sent out have found nothing about the sorcerers. Empty leads no doubt designed to draw our attention have led to dead ends. And then that just leaves the assault.”

  “How many wizards have gathered now?” he asked.

  “Almost all those they recalled have returned now. A thousand wizards of the highest levels. They're just waiting for the order, which, I think may come any day now.”

  “Time is running out,” Pym nodded. “It will take weeks to travel that distance with so many men. The prophecy date is only four more months away.” He sat down in the chair. “Are Avignlore and Bethas still with us?”

  “They haven't said anything about my involvement, or theirs, if that's what you mean. But as for any further action from them, I think it unlikely. They are scared after what's happened to you.”

  “Then we are on our own.”

  “I am on my own, you mean,” Embaer corrected.

  “I haven't given up, my friend,” Augustus said. “I'll get out of here eventually.”

  “And in the meantime, what should I do?”

  Augustus thought hard. “We need to find out if Matthias or the Princess are still alive.”

  “Any idea how?” He asked.

  “Perhaps we should make use of our own people. Use Fenzar.”

  “How do you suggest we do that? Ask him?”

  “What is the first thing Fenzar will do if he finds Josephine?”

  “He'll capture her. The chancellor gave him an Artefact.”

  “And he will bring her back here.”

  Embaer nodded. “Do you think we can find a way of helping her?”

  “It's all I can think of now,” Augustus sighed. “Our options grow thin.”

  “By which point, we may very well already be on our way to war.” Embaer looked troubled. “You should have heard the stories of the damage Sikaris has done already Augustus. If Matthias and the princess were in the middle of it, I don't see how they could have survived.”

  Augustus smiled. “Matthias is quick - witted and resourceful. I would bet my last mark on him escaping any day.”

  “You would say that. He's your student!”

  “He might be a student to many of you, but he has knowledge and wisdom beyond anything I’ve taught him. Not to mention he is as self critical of Mahalia as both of us and with a loyalty to our cause that gives him a good balance. I wouldn't rule him out. He might just help us out of this mess yet.”

  Tamet

  198th Day of the Cycle, 495 N.E. (New Era)

  Josephine had been in the town of Tamet for two weeks now. It had taken one whole week to get out of Aslemerian territory, stumbling across the arid landscape and hiding in bushes and behind rocks, sleeping rough and surviving off the meagre berries she could find, careless of whether they were poisonous or not and with little regret if they were. Every night as she curled up and looked up at the sky she sobbed until her body shook and she could take it no more as she thought of Thadius lying on the cold, stone floor of the palace in Ank’ Shara. What would they have done with him after she left? The only thing keeping her from giving up these last two weeks were his final words. She had to stop the dragon from killing anyone else, or else Thadius had died for nothing. But even that resolve began to be eroded, as she grew weaker from lack of food and sleep.

  On her fifth day of travelling, exhausted and delirious, she nestled herself between the roots of a tree and the dirt bank beneath it. As she dozed in the arm - like clutches of the roots, voices whispered to her from deep within her head and images danced across her blurred, addled vision of the stars and the sun and the moon, and of the gods watching over her as she herself floated above the world. Threads of power danced around her in patterns, swirling like smoke as she ran her fingers through it. Another voice spilled out into her dreams: a man’s voice that seemed familiar somehow, but from where and why, she had no idea. It spoke gravely, with a weight to each word:

  “Torture and Torment, the blood ran free, a river of red running down to the sea…”

  Other fragments of voices caressed her mind as she lay there: the Akari woman, Matthias, Thadius, Luccius and her father, all blurring together until they filled her head entirely. She fell asleep soon after and when she awoke, the voices were gone again. More driven than she had been in days, she continued on until she managed to make her way out of Aslemer and continued on into Olindia. When she arrived in Tamet several days later, her clothes were ragged and torn and she smelled as if she had been rolling around in a stable. The innkeeper, a woman called Cristyn, took pity on her, offering her a room and food in exchange for her help waiting on tables in the day. Josephine had accepted eagerly, even though she was exhausted and battered from stumbling across Triska for weeks. Cristyn was the first friendly face she had seen since she had fled from Ank’ Shara. She had even offered Josephine a small wage after her third day of waiting, when she had proven herself dedicated enough to be trusted with more work. With miles to travel to reach home, and no leads on where the dragon could be, she took the money gratefully, putting it aside in the hopes that she could save enough to perhaps book passage back to Aralia or leave the town to continue her search for Sikaris. She dared not reveal her identity to anyone, not after what had happened in Aslemer. There was enough blood on her hands already.

  On her fourth day in the town, rumours began to spread from travellers of war breaking out to the east. She listened to the gossip amongst the clientele intently as she served them ale and cleared their plates. She began to piece together each day that the battles between Olindia and Aslemer were growing bloodier and, worryingly for her, closer to Tamet. With each passing hour more refugees appeared in town, bringing with themselves tales of the death and devastation, and the cruelty of the Aslemerian armies, led by the rabid, ferocious mages. Coupled with all this talk of war, other people trickled in with news of Sikaris. It seemed he continued to cut a path of destruction across Olindia. She made a note of the titbits of information she obtained about the attacks. One thing was certain: Sikaris was growing closer. The question now was what could she do to stop him? As more days passed, the news of the dragon died down again and she felt herself relaxing a little as she continued to work in the inn. She even began to think how nice it would be to stay in the town. The simplicity of it was appealing: performing chores in exchange for the necessities of bread and wine and a little coin and on occasion she would be allowed to help herself to the stew that remained as well. But as tempting as it was to dream of such possibilities, she knew she could not abandon her responsibilities. The threat of Sikaris remained. Until that changed, she had to keep her focus. Every night she sat and stared at the ceiling, watching as the moonlight cast itself on the yellow plaster and contemplated her options. And as she pondered, she began to formulate an idea that she believed
might have merit, even if the results of her similar actions so far had been anything but successful. One thing she was certain of: she could not beat Sikaris on strength along. Fighting fire with fire would only end up in her death.

  Two and a half weeks had passed by and it had been another busy evening in the tavern. The usual patrons at their usual tables were accompanied by a larger number of travellers and those others seeking shelter from the threats of war, and she had been run off her feet serving them as Cristyn, in her usual display of generosity, opened up her doors for those unfortunate people with nowhere else to go, their lives completely ruined. In her travels she had never come across a person so generous as to allow those in need of food and drink have some for little or no coin. She was a credit to Olindia, not to mention Triska as a whole. Josephine intended to repay her kindness when she made it back to Rina. If she made it back. Nothing was certain anymore. She had lost everyone she cared about so far. Once she had dealt with the dragon, what else was left for her?

  Josephine juggled another pile of empty wooden bowls back to the kitchens and let out an exhausted breath. Cristyn turned to her as she ladled stew into a new batch of bowls and smiled warmly.

  “When did you last sit down?” she asked. “You’ve been back and forth in here every five minutes for as long as I can think today!”

  “I think the birds were singing still when I started,” Josephine smiled back.

  “I work my girls hard, but there's a limit Josephine. Go on, you've been here since daybreak. At the rate we're going, if I don't let you sleep now you'll be seeing another sunrise before your head sees a pillow.”

  Josephine shook her head. “You haven’t slept either.”

  “Yes but I’m as stubborn as an ox and I own this place.”

  Josephine thought for a moment. “Are you sure? You still have a full house in there!”

  “And I will for many days and nights by the looks of it. It will do me no good if all my staff collapse from exhaustion before the end of it!”

  Josephine nodded. “Very well. Thank you, Cristyn.”

  “I'll come and wake you when we need you again,” the woman advised with a nod. “Now rest that pretty head of yours before it falls off.”

  Josephine untied the grey, dirty apron from about her waist and pulled it from about her head, hanging it on a peg on the wall. She slipped out the kitchen and padded slowly upstairs to the servant rooms - two large, cabin - like chambers with several cots lined up next to each other. Another girl lay sleeping at the far side, with her face to the wall: Iselle, by the looks of her pigtail. Josephine pulled her dress from her aching body and folded the yellow cotton garment, placing it on a small table at the end of the bed, and relaxed the corset around her midriff, slipping it off and pulling on a shift Cristyn had provided her. All the clothes she had been given were worn, but comfortable and she was grateful to the innkeeper for getting her out of the Aslemerian clothes that she had grown to loathe as a reminder of all that had happened in that realm. She slumped on to the woollen blanket atop the cot and lying down in her shift, rolled herself up in it. Sleep came quickly to her and before she knew it she awoke to the birds chirping again, and her eyes snapped open quickly. She sat up and looked around. Two more girls were sleeping around her, bundled up in their blankets. She slipped out of the bed again and looked out the window. It was definitely late morning. Why hadn’t Cristyn woken her sooner? The other girls must be overwhelmed with people by now!

  Hurriedly she washed herself with water from the wooden basin in the corner of the room, slipped her corset and dress back on and left the room, venturing downstairs. Sure enough, the kitchen was alive with activity. Girls were still serving the stew from the night before and by the side of the large cauldron, another metal pot filled with pottage bubbled away.

  “Hello again sleepyhead!” Cristyn smiled at her, entering from the common room. “I take it you rested well then?”

  “I did, thank you,” Josephine replied. “You should have awoken me. I did not expect to be asleep for so long.”

  Cristyn waved her away. “You needed the rest. Besides, don’t think today will be any easier for you than yesterday! I’ve just had word that we may be expecting more people fleeing from Six Oaks,” she said.

  “Aslemer has reached that far?” Josephine exclaimed. She had grown familiar with the neighbouring towns and villages over the last fortnight. Six Oaks was forty miles away, which seemed unnervingly close now.

  Cristyn nodded. “I’m afraid so. But don’t panic just yet. I’ve heard they’ll have to carve their way through the ‘Eastern Vipers’ before they reach us.”

  “Who are they?” Josephine asked.

  “An army ten thousand strong. They’re blocking the Aslemerian’s path into the valley.” She smiled. “We’ll see them off. Trust me.”

  The problem was, Josephine had seen first hand how vicious the Aslemerian army could be. She had seen the dark mages and what they could do. How could the Olindians defend against such a force for long, especially in their current crippled condition? She smiled regardless and busied herself to filling several bowls with the steaming pottage and placing them on a tray. Lifting the tray carefully, she walked gingerly into the common room. It was heaving with people still and the noise and commotion was almost unbearable. She placed the bowls down at the bar and asked Terra, another maid, who she should give the pottage to. She pointed to a table over in the far corner, and she turned to it. Instantly her skin bristled and she froze.

  The men sitting at the far table were unmistakably Mahalian. They wore similar clothing to Matthias, albeit in differing colours and around their necks Josephine could see they wore the same pendants. Two of them looked in their middling years, one bald, aside from tufts of hair behind his ears, the other with longer, curly hair falling to his shoulders. But it was the oldest of them that Josephine was gripped with fear by. He was aged, with a grey, whisky beard and a rich coat bristling with ornamentation. It was undoubtedly Fenzar.

  Shaking herself out of her panic, she turned so that her back was to them. Had they spotted her? No, they were looking in the other direction and the place was so busy. But if she remained in the room they would identify her soon.

  “Terra, please could you take the food to them? I… I need the privy,” she lied. The younger maid nodded and Josephine smiled at her and then slipped into the back of the inn. Once out of sight she darted up the stairs and into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. What should she do?

  She felt in the pocket of her dress. The coin she had been paid so far sat in a small pouch within. She inspected it. There might be enough there for a room at an inn for a few nights in another town. Maybe even a few meals. It would have to be enough. She couldn't stay here, or anywhere nearby, for that matter. Not if Fenzar was this close. My gods, what would he do to her if he saw her?

  She grabbed two apples and a canister of water one of the other girls had brought upstairs and placed on the nearby table and rolled them up in the woollen sheet that lay on her bed, tying it with a strip of ribbon that hung from a hook, probably used to tie one of the girls' hair up. It was quite weighty, but she needed something to keep her warm out there at night. She would need to sleep rough for a while until she could get far enough away to risk staying in another inn. She couldn't risk leaving Fenzar a trail of her movements. She looked sadly back at the room and at the cot that she had come to think of as a home away from home and then, swiftly, slipped back out of the room and snuck down the stairs. Everyone was working in the common room or the kitchen. It was so busy that hopefully she wouldn't be missed for a while. She padded to the back door and unlatched it quietly and carefully, opening it just enough so that she could fit through and closed it behind herself. The street was quiet and she walked quickly to the corner before turning to take the path that led on to the Telthon Road. From there she would slip off into one of the bordering fields and from there... well, she would come up with a better plan late
r. Right now it was just important to put as much distance as she could between her and Tamet.

  Refugees

  200th Day of the Cycle, 495 N.E. (New Era)

  Princess Josephine pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders as a chill rippled down her spine. She had been walking for two days, keeping to the fields growing maize that dotted the nearby landscape, in fear of being spotted. It felt like she were an ant, crawling around enormous blades of grass, and she made slow progress, but it seemed better than taking a path where there was potential for her to be spotted. Now she lay nestled amongst the crops, staring up between their leafy confines at the stars she continued to dream about flying amongst. Every now and again a creature would cross her path: a shrew or a cricket crawling around and across her blanket. A few weeks ago she would have screamed at that, but she had slept rough so many times now it seemed almost calming to not be alone in the wilderness.

  How long had it been since she had lost Thadius? She couldn't remember now. Nor could she accurately picture the time that had passed since she had been separated from Matthias and Luccius. Two months? Perhaps more? Perhaps less? Every night now she practiced wielding her power, bending the forces in unique ways that even the night before she would not have considered. As she tested herself she continued to formulate a plan in her mind to stop the dragon. But she would have to find it first if she were to put it into practice. She would soon find the clue she needed when, still keeping to the fields two days later, she spotted a large caravan of people travelling along the distant dirt path. She shielded her eyes as she tried to make them out, but they were shadows against the afternoon sunlight and so, hesitant at first but growing with determination as she emerged from hiding, she set out towards them. Most of the troupe had already passed by when she intercepted them, but she managed to catch the last few people, travelling with a rickety cart pulled by an emaciated - looking horse.