Mad Mage_Claire-Agon Ranger

by Salvador Mercer

  They didn’t have long to wait before Targon came into sight of the small lantern, which had illuminated the area merrily with no regard to the death that had suddenly enveloped the area. Several torches burned brightly on the ground where their owners had dropped them, either to attack or from falling dead themselves.

  The Ulathan Ranger was like a huge brown thunderbolt, sweeping in from one side and running in a semicircular pattern, picking off the next line of attackers. At one point, his path briefly crossed theirs, and his long brown cloak all but whipped in front of their faces, pulled away in a flurry of strokes and sweeps of his axe that cut the attackers down efficiently.

  Once the immediate line was clear, Targon motioned for them to follow him. He was trying to clear a path to the south, which was different from the east where they had arrived and he had also. The majority of the Kesh company came from the north, as they were encamped only a half league from the battlefield.

  The Balarians weren’t finished with them, and a few small bolts shot out from their locations of concealment. Most missed, but one stuck in Dorsun’s thigh, and a second glanced off Targon’s head, drawing blood. It was only a flesh wound, but a couple of inches closer and it would have penetrated his skull.

  “Get down,” Salina ordered. The group took shelter behind the berm of the road, which was only a foot and a half high. They literally had to lie on their bellies to get themselves out of the line of fire.

  “Blast them Balarians,” Dorsun said, reaching down to pluck the bolt from his leg. He grimaced in pain and threw it a few feet away, taking a rag from his belt and holding it against the wound.

  “Hold still,” Salina said, crawling over to use a strip of cloth from her own pouch that she kept for exactly these purposes. “Let me tie that for you.”

  Several more bolts whizzed overhead as the Balarians hoped to score a lucky shot when one of their heads popped into view, even if only for a second. Targon took care of that, dropping his axe and pulling his bow from his back. His quiver was almost empty, with only four more arrows left. Nocking one, he stood on a knee and shot at the Balarians.

  Two bolts almost hit him, but his arrow scored against one of their attackers, hitting the man and taking him out of the fight. Targon repeated the effort two more times with the same result. Three dead Balarians and less bolts being fired their way.

  “Nice shooting,” Cedric said, risking a look to see the woodsman’s accuracy in action.

  “You didn’t do too bad yourself,” Targon said, smiling at Cedric, who was lying on his belly to the south of his companions. It was Cedric and then Targon and then Dorsun, and Salina had crawled around the ex-brigand’s legs to be on the north side so she could bandage his right leg. This put her at the most risk in their current position, as they faced west.

  The brigands and Balarians didn’t bother to conceal their plans. Shouting from their locations, they were planning and coordinating another charge at the Ulathans. Both sides had dropped for cover once the arrows and bolts started to fly. The Balarians were trying to assure the Kesh that they would lay down suppression fire to keep the Ulathan rebels pinned down long enough for the brigands to close and engage them with melee weapons. Some of the Kesh leadership seemed dubious, accurately noting that the Balarians had just lost three of their own to counterfire. It was surreal to listen to the two groups shouting, plotting, and planning their deaths.

  Cedric didn’t seem to mind. “I didn’t even get another shot off,” he said, showing the two blades remaining in his hand.

  “Don’t get too cocky,” Dorsun said, again his tone serious and a tinge of pain in his voice.

  “You all right?” Cedric asked the man.

  “I’ll live,” he said, grimacing as Salina made her final cinch to the bandage and tightened it to staunch the bleeding. “At least for a few minutes longer.”

  Salina said, “Done. That should hold if you don’t flex the knee too much.” Turning to Targon, she asked, “How did you find us out here?”

  Targon nodded at Dorsun. “His master pointed me in the right direction.”

  Cedric interrupted. “Where are the Kesh bowmen? I saw a few when they circled us.”

  “Yes, it appears the only missiles coming at us are these small handheld crossbow bolts from the Balarians.” Salina looked at the main camp where the assassins were hidden. The small lantern illuminated an area that was now devoid of life. Only the dead lay within its fragile illumination, and the living had fled to darker parts.

  Dorsun took his turn at interrupting. “Master Khan is nearby?”

  Targon spoke quickly, trying to answer multiple questions at once. “I took care of the Kesh bowmen first, but the Balarians were to the west, so I couldn’t reach them. Sorry. As to your question”—at this, he looked directly at Dorsun—“I don’t think I need to answer.”

  The Ranger’s eyes went up and over Dorsun, looking past the man toward the east at the very small rise in the land where the Kesh had taken up a position before being engaged by Targon. The group looked back in unison as the sounds of small energy discharges and something heavy hitting the ground grew in intensity.

  It was difficult to see at first, but the dull, muted flash of electrical energy was the first easily visible sign of Khan’s arrival. He walked from Kesh soldier to Kesh soldier, touching each man on his back and discharging a surge of energy into the individual, who quickly dropped to the ground. It took a few moments with all the shouting for the Kesh to understand what was happening, and so dark was it with the setting of the twin sisters and a somewhat cloudy sky that it was difficult to see the wizard.

  “What are you doing over there?” the Balarian assassin yelled across the road at the intruder, seeing for the first time the distinct outline of a Kesh magic-user, but not understanding what was happening. The Kesh lieutenant explained for the man, “That is the traitor. Kill him.”

  The Balarian shot back at the Kesh leader. “You kill him. He’s your traitor and your wizard.”

  The Kesh pondered the Balarian’s words. Technically the man was correct, but despite being a traitor, the Kesh were so ingrained to fear and respect their wizard caste that they hesitated in spite of the accuracy of the observation.

  Khan did not give them the luxury of time in which to answer. “Time for some light,” the young wizard said. “Unichtoze Ogon!”

  A ball of fire shot out from the man’s metallic staff, crossing the small field from the rise and exploding on the west side of the road, a stone’s throw north of the Ulathans where the Kesh had congregated. The fear of their wizard caste was reinforced as several Kesh brigands were consumed in the blaze and several others ran in all directions, attempting to flee the flames. Some were on fire or had their clothing burning. The red gash on their leather breastplates was pronounced and easily visible as the area burned.

  “Wow,” Cedric said, feeling the heat in the autumn air even though they were a good distance away.

  “Impressive.” Targon had to agree. Even though they had seen the display of magic before, it appeared that the fireball was both larger and hotter than anything the young wizard had conjured before. The young man’s skill in the arcane was growing monthly, if not weekly.

  Several bolts headed Khan’s way, and he put up a wall of fire in front of him, incinerating the bolts in midair. Then, in one moment, everything changed as the wizard stopped and bent over at the waist, causing alarm amongst his comrades.

  “Master!” Dorsun exclaimed, struggling to get to his feet while Salina and then Targon held him down for a moment.

  Khan motioned for them to wait while still bent over. He stood, tilting his head back and taking a deep breath before raising his staff and summoning the very energy of Agon in the form of lightning bolts. Bolt after bolt struck the ground around the Kesh and Balarians until even the hardened assassins of the island realm turned and ran west, putting as much distance between them and the crazed traitor wizard as they could.

  T
he powerful lightning strikes lit up the land and sky with a bright blue hue, and the sonic thunder clapped over and over again as the very atmosphere was rent asunder and the air was superheated beyond their comprehension. The bolts came so quickly that one bolt was summoned before the last bolt could clear and finish its strike. The surge lasted only a few seconds, but it felt an eternity, so intense was the display.

  The group leaped to their feet, and Dorsun hobbled over with the help of Targon and Cedric. Khan had simply sat back, landing on his rump and sitting on the ground in a most ungraceful fashion. When they reached him, Salina spoke first. “Are you hurt, Khan?”

  The young man shook his head and was breathing heavily. After a few seconds, he managed a single word. “Tired.”

  Dorsun and Salina felt the man’s body, looking for a protruding bolt but finding none. Khan didn’t argue or protest, and when they had finished, Salina looked at Khan, saying, “You are not wounded. We thought for sure you took a hit with their last volley.”

  Khan continued to breathe heavily, and after a long minute, motioning for them to sit next to him, he tried to speak normally, failing in the process as his words came out rushed and he was panting for air. “That was one hell of a run.”

  Targon intervened now, having kept silent during the examination and initial conversation exchange. “You should still be far from here, not arriving until well after dawn or even midday if you tired further. How in Agon did you manage to keep up with me?”

  The trio of Ulathans looked at Khan in amazement while Dorsun searched through his pack for his small flask of water. Khan shook his head, saying, “I did not keep up with you. You arrived here first.”

  “Barely,” Targon said with incredulity in his voice. “I ran full bore for most of the night. You should be far from here. I don’t understand.”

  “Sit,” Khan said, and they all sat except for Targon, who remained standing and looking into the inky blackness of the night. Dawn was peeking from the east as tinges of purple covered the eastern horizon. Khan continued, “I cheated.”

  “How so?” Targon asked, and Dorsun offered the young man water from his flask. Khan took a small sip and held on to the container.

  “It was Elister’s training, actually,” Khan began. “The old druid taught me a spell that he used from time to time. I did not think I was able to perform some woodland magic, and that is correct, but this spell I could invoke, and so I tried it for the first time while under stress and exertion.”

  “What spell are you referring to?” Targon asked. “I didn’t think the Arnen performed magic.”

  “Call it what you will,” Khan said. “Magic or aid from the Mother, it matters not. In Kesh, we learn the arcane and all its destructive power. We do not learn, nor do we practice or invoke, magic that is beneficial in nature, not as a matter of choice. Therefore we do not understand or appreciate the power of Agon in this regard.”

  “All right,” Targon conceded, “but you didn’t answer my question. What spell?”

  “It does not have a proper name, but I labeled it the spell of stamina,” Khan stated. “It allowed me to run and not tire. In fact, I could do a great many things without tiring while it lasted, not just limited to running.”

  “You speak in the past tense,” Salina noted observantly. “What happened to the spell?”

  “Ah, now we come to solving the mystery of my actions.” Khan tried to smile while he breathed heavily still. “The last of the spell was consumed in the lightning storm. I hate to say it, but it got a bit out of control.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Cedric said, looking from companion to companion. “I thought the entire area would be energized much like a blanket covering a bed.”

  “So your spell was spent after that?” Targon asked.

  “Yes,” Khan said. “It actually started to wane after the wall of fire, causing me to tire both dramatically and instantly. I summoned the last bit of energy from the spell in order to call forth the electrical energy of Agon. When I had finished, my body rebelled and demanded both rest and air, so I was simply trying to breathe.”

  The others nodded, understanding now. Khan’s spell had left him weak and tired, and he was struggling to breathe and talk at this point. As time passed, he began to regain his strength. Salina spoke quickly, her mind on her loved one. “We are most appreciative of your efforts, but as Dorsun so bravely demonstrated, my dear Bran was not with this group. It was a trap to get to us. This means he must still be in Korwell, and there is no one watching the castle there. They could have taken him out by another means or direction. We need to get back there as quick as we can.”

  “Did you not receive word from Argyll, then?” Targon asked her.

  She shook her head. “No, we left when the group left and never saw the druid’s bird during our chase.”

  “Well,” Targon began, “the falcon is keeping a watch on Korwell and will communicate with Elister should the situation change. In fact, the druid wants us to meet with him to discuss several urgent matters, and your husband is one of them.”

  Cedric grabbed Targon’s arm. “Does he have news of Father?”

  “I think he does, but he didn’t give me any details, so we’ll have to hear him out,” Targon said.

  Dorsun took up a kneeling position on his good leg and asked Khan, “Can you travel?”

  “I should ask you that very same question by the look of your leg,” Khan said.

  “It’s not safe to stay here, that much is sure,” Targon said, looking around. The area was quiet, but the faint sounds of enemy forces were heard as they were regrouping. “They may attempt an attack again. Since we know it was a trap and a ruse to bring you here, I think we should depart and put some distance between us and them.”

  “Agreed,” Khan said, putting his hand up and taking Targon’s arm in order to stand. Targon had offered both his hands to help, and Dorsun took the other. The woodsman bow was slung over his back, and his axe was tucked into his wide belt. The single arrow sticking out of the quiver was a testament to the action that night.

  As they prepared to go, Targon took one lopping run around the area, managing to pull five more arrows free of their targets. He didn’t bother to clean them and simply put them with his last remaining missile so that he had a half-dozen arrows when they left.

  The group of five ran southeast, cutting across small rises and plain fields. The occasional homestead or farm, deserted for the last few months, were scattered throughout the area. The homesteads were more plentiful within a day’s journey of the capital city, but the group gave them a wide berth until they reached one lone place tucked into a grove of trees. Targon checked the place out first and then returned to escort the others into the single-room building.

  It had a fireplace and four solid walls, along with a sturdy thatched roof, and that was enough for them. There was almost no furniture, only a single cot and one large table with two benches on either side. Some dirty linen and spoiled foodstuffs were scattered about, but nothing of any noteworthiness. If there had been anything valuable, then the Kesh had certainly cleared it out.

  Starting a fire was out of the question. The smoke would be visible, especially during the day. The sun had risen well into the sky by the time they found their temporary shelter. They knew they could not stay there since the Kesh patrols routinely checked the abandoned buildings on a consistent schedule. Since they were only a half day away from the capital, it was a sure bet that this particular homestead was checked more than once a week.

  It was risky to stay here for a single day, but Dorsun needed a place to heal, and they needed a place away from the sun and scrutiny of Kesh patrols. Dorsun had Khan tend to his wounded leg, and Salina once again spent time caring for Targon’s wound, cleaning the blood and putting in a few stitches for good measure from her medical pouch.

  Targon and Dorsun exchanged military council, each man debating the merits of using a homestead to shelter in for a day and the cha
nces that the Kesh would send out a patrol to this exact building on this very day. They agreed the odds were in their favor for a single day, but in light of current events, they also agreed that they needed to be out and on their way by sunset.

  The group took turns sleeping, with two or three napping while the other two or three kept watch. Targon spent a large part of the day outside, where he could hear the sounds of nature and detect any approaching hooves or bootsteps. There were none. They snacked on dried rations and used the farm’s well to pull up some fresh water and replenish their water flasks since they weren’t close to a stream or river.

  At dusk, they took off again. Dorsun managed well, as the bolt did not penetrate too deeply into his leg, and Targon hardly noticed his flesh wound. Khan had recovered, and both Cedric and Salina were unhurt despite being so outnumbered during their last encounter.

  They traveled all night again and took their rest at sunrise. This time, they sheltered in a group of brushes near a grove of trees. Both Targon and Dorsun were in agreement that since the trees would be more comfortable and inviting, they made the most likely place for a Kesh patrol to search first. They didn’t wait till sunset to leave, as Targon felt confident that they were not being pursued successfully and that he wanted to attempt the rope ford crossing during daylight hours. He wanted them to be on the east side of the Rapid River and in the relative safety of the forest that was watched over by one of the most powerful forces known in all of Agon—a druid of the Arnen— by nightfall.

  They succeeded in their objective and found themselves back at the hunting blind and able to set a small fire and fear not the risk of detection or apprehension. “I dare them to cross,” Cedric had said, almost taking ownership of the blind for himself. Khan and Dorsun bathed in the very pool of tranquil waters that they had once rested on months ago in desperate escape of the Kesh. The irony wasn’t lost on any of their party.