Mad Mage_Claire-Agon Ranger

by Salvador Mercer

  “As ready as we’re ever going to be,” she said, allowing him to grab her arm and help her aboard.

  Malik followed, and the man offered a hand with a greeting. “Welcome, stranger.”

  “Malik will do.”

  “Very well, Mister Malik. Let’s get underway, then.” The captain turned and barked a few commands, and the ropes loosened, allowing the ship to drift into the small sheltered bay.

  It didn’t take long before a light breeze picked up enough for them to leave Balax, and as they escaped from between the tall towers jutting over the bay’s only entrance and exit, they turned south, where the large sail billowed as it captured the wild sea wind roaring in from the north. The ship seemed to almost leap out of the water, increasing speed at it headed toward the southwest, toward Tallist on the mainland of one of Agon’s largest continents.

  Malik was going home.

  Chapter 20

  Infiltrate

  They last saw Will, Cedric, and Marissa standing in the dark as the trio watched them depart and head east. No one mentioned it, but they all saw the intense frowns and scowls from their companions. None of the three were happy with the arrangements made.

  They traveled in the dark, following the sure footsteps of Targon, as Khan had to extinguish his light in order to remain concealed. They noticed more than one campfire to their south, but a good distance away. Several leagues, at least, and it would have taken them hours to reach those camps. Dorsun mentioned that some camps were legitimate and others were most likely bait to trap any Ulathans who would dare raid in Kesh lands.

  Targon led them north of Ulsthor and into lands they had never been to before; at least, Targon and Salina. Khan explained that these northern lands were also barren, as they served as a buffer against the Northmen who occasionally raided. When the sun started to rise, they continued on, not wanting to lose any time even though they were extremely tired. They eventually crossed a main north road from the town that Khan said headed to a mountain pass and into the wastelands of the north, though the road appeared unmaintained and desolate.

  At midday, not far from the road, they camped under a tree in the middle of a grove of brushes. They slept and kept a watch, one hour on, three hours off, until they all felt that they had refreshed themselves enough to travel further. They set out again, angling southeast this time toward the main trade road that ran between Keshtor and Korwell, circling the town of Ulsthor and keeping a wide enough berth so as not to encounter anyone.

  It took them the rest of the day and well into the evening before they started to come across homesteads, farms, and other occupied buildings. Horses were rare, and most places didn’t have them. The few who did kept them well guarded behind lock and key, and most of the homes they encountered had a dog to give an alarm if someone or something was lurking nearby.

  “We’re not going to be able to . . . borrow . . . a single mount, much less four of them at the rate we’re going,” Salina noted. “How far is it to the main road? We’ve been traveling for a full night and day almost and we’ve barely got to the other side of Ulsthor.”

  “We are not far,” Khan said, looking at Dorsun.

  “A half a league at most, Master,” Dorsun said. “In that direction.” The former brigand chieftain pointed due south.

  “Maybe Will was right,” Targon said as they quickly left yet another homestead that had a dog barking furiously, and an owner armed with a blade come to the door to see what’s what.

  “We are in Kesh. Allow us to secure mounts for all four of us,” he said, turning to smile at Salina.

  The pair of Ulathans shrugged and allowed Khan to lead them now toward the road. True to what Dorsun had said, the road loomed up in the darkness, slightly elevated, as it had been built eons ago with an engineering design to prevent flooding or erosion. Once at the road, the pair of Kesh men looked each way, and Khan said, “I do believe we are too far east of the town right now.”

  “We are, Master,” Dorsun said. “Luckily, it is still near.”

  “How near?” Targon asked, looking up at the twin sisters that were still struggling to pierce the overcast skies of an autumn storm that had been brewing all week. Rain fell less seldom in Kesh than Ulatha, but when it did come, it usually rained in bucket loads.

  “If we walk briskly, we could get there in a fraction of the night,” Khan said.

  “Half an hour,” Dorsun clarified.

  “Fine,” Targon said. “Let’s go, then.”

  The four companions headed away from their destination and back toward Ulsthor. Salina could hardly contain herself. “We are headed back to Ulatha? This is ridiculous.”

  “Not Ulatha, only a short way further,” Khan said.

  “Where are we going to?” she asked.

  Khan continued walking but looked at her as if she were a stranger. “To the stables, of course. Where else can we secure steeds for our journey?”

  Salina looked at Targon, and the Ranger could only shrug. They would have to trust their Kesh companions on this one.

  “Wait here,” Dorsun said, indicating for them to take cover behind a large tree and three bushes. The Kesh men disappeared for nearly an hour, and Salina wanted to go after them. The sounds of hooves pounding the road prevented her from complaining further, and when Khan and Dorsun appeared on a pair of mounts, leading two pack horses as well, the Ulathans could only stand and gape in wonder.

  “What?” Khan asked. “Have you not seen a horse before?”

  “Of course we’ve seen horses before,” Salina said, “just not in the middle of Kesh, secured by two renegade members of your society.”

  “What is she saying, Master?” Dorsun asked, offering the reins to the Ulathans.

  “I think she is saying that she finds it hard to believe that we returned with mounts and no pursuit.” Khan looked at his trusted bodyguard.

  “Oh,” Dorsun said, rubbing his leg where it often itched in the same place that he took a Balarian bolt not long ago. “I prefer to ride now.”

  Targon spoke up. “Salina has a point. Will you not explain the horses?”

  Khan looked at him and said, “Mount your steed and we will discuss this on the road.”

  “Is it safe?” Targon asked.

  “It is now,” Khan assured the man.

  Salina and Targon mounted, and in the dark, they rode at a walk so that Khan could explain. “The stables are under merchant control out here. The military barracks are closer to Ulsthor. I simply entered the small village over that hill back there and commanded that they honor their pledge of support to the order of which I once belonged and provide me with four horses.”

  “That was it?” Targon asked. “Why didn’t you say this earlier and we could have brought the others with us. You could have secured seven horses, right?”

  “Yes,” Khan said. “However, there was a significant risk of being identified by the former owner. Had this happened, there would most likely be no mounts for any of us, and the entire Kesh army would be on their way here within the next half day. That would be the end of our quest.”

  “You risked the life of Targon’s mother on a gamble back there?” Salina asked, her voice raised, anger evident in her tone.

  Khan rode in an awkward silence, and it took a long time before he answered. “If you wish to frame the context of your accusation thusly, then I can only say you are correct.”

  The awkwardness of the moment did not diminish with his answer. They rode a bit further, and Targon asked, “Why?”

  Khan answered rather quickly. “There is an old Kesh saying that goes thusly: he who takes no risk drinks no champagne.”

  “What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Salina asked.

  “It means,” Khan said, “that we are running out of time, and this was the fastest way to achieve our goal. We now have the steeds we desperately needed, so let us put as much distance between that village and ourselves as possible.”

  “Why?” Salina refused to l
et Khan off the hook so quickly.

  “Because, Lady Salina,” Khan said, using her formal title in an effort to assuage her anger, “I told the new merchant owner that I was Zorcross.”

  “Zor who?”

  “The wizard who wants to kill us,” Dorsun said, his voice low.

  “They will demand payment for the horses soon. We best not be anywhere near when they do.” Khan spurred his mount and started to gallop as the twin sisters began their descent into the western sky.

  They rode all night and into the day, stopping only to water their horses and use a brush that was provided in one of the saddle bags to groom the sweat and lather off their steeds. The Ulathans pulled their cloaks around them and used their hoods when they passed other Kesh civilians. Most were merchants or farmers moving about the countryside, and most kept their heads down, especially when they caught a glimpse of the blue robe and tasseled hat of Khan’s wardrobe.

  Dorsun also was a formidable character, commanding respect all along the road. The Ulathans were amazed at how compliant Kesh society was when it came to what their citizenry thought was a Kesh wizard and a Kesh chieftain. They were even able to purchase a small amount of produce from a local stand with a few coppers that Dorsun had squirreled away for who knew what occasion.

  Traveling so, they managed to cover the ground quickly, and more than once, Targon had to wake Salina as she slept atop her mount and threatened to fall off it. The Kesh seemed able to continue with only an hour or two of sleep, and so they managed to travel almost all the way to Keshtor proper in only two days.

  It was evening, and they stopped at a large village that served the west side of Keshtor. Finding an old, dilapidated inn, the Kesh negotiated with the owner to stable their horses for a day or two. Khan kept the Ulathans out of sight, and when asked how the innkeeper was willing to cooperate without questioning their motives, Dorsun simply said that life was more important to the man than death.

  The group walked the last two leagues on foot and arrived at the outskirts of Keshtor as the twin sisters were high overhead. The sky was now clear this far east, and they could still see the large billowing storm clouds to their west. The trio they had left behind would most likely be getting wet once the rain hit them.

  The city reached out to greet them as urban sprawl spread out in a ring from around the inner fortifications. The Onyx Tower could clearly be seen as it rose above all other structures at the very heart of the Kesh realm. It was surrounded by large fortifications, including gates, towers, and parapets that overlooked key approaches to the complex. If the Ulathans didn’t know better, they’d have thought the layout was designed for the safety of the ruling elite, not the everyday citizenry of Kesh.

  “I see the walled inner part of the city,” Salina said. “I thought it would somehow be . . . grander.”

  “Hmm,” Khan said as they stood near a busy intersection despite the late hour. Keshtor was fairly bustling at all hours of the day or night. “The gates are most likely well manned, and there will be questions for anyone entering or trying to enter.”

  “Especially at this late hour, Master,” Dorsun added.

  “We shouldn’t wait,” Salina argued. “It’s night now, and doing anything in daylight would be unwise.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Targon asked. “Sneak in using the sewers as we did in Korwell, or walk right up to the gate and demand entry for a wizard and a chieftain?”

  Khan motioned for them to follow him into a small side street, where they huddled out of sight of most observers, save those to and fro walking on the larger road. “There are no secret sewers here and”—at this, Khan leaned forward and lowered his voice to barely a whisper—“we know that my old mentor has overthrown his former High-Mage. Word on the road was that the ruling caste of my order are split between supporting Ke-Tor or opposing him.” Khan did not grace his former master with his new elevated title.

  “You mean to say you can’t enter as a wizard?” Salina tried to clarify.

  “Basically,” Khan said, “unless you allow me to risk detection again. However, this time, I fear the odds of detection are several times greater.”

  “What would these odds be?” Salina whispered back as they kept their voices low.

  “One in four at best,” Khan stated.

  “To succeed or to fail.” Salina frowned.

  “To succeed,” Khan said.

  Targon looked awkward trying to lower himself into their huddle and participate in the conversation. “I can’t risk so much on my mother’s life. We must find another way.”

  “We do have an alternate plan that may or may not work,” Khan said, looking at Dorsun.

  “Will the odds be better?” Salina asked.

  Khan nodded. “One in two would be my guess.”

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” she asked, looking back at the road as a pair of soldiers marched by looking uninterested in anything other than making their required rounds. The group held for a moment till the pair, carrying spears and small curved swords sheathed at their waists, passed by. “We need to do something fast other than wait here for a more attentive soldier to ask us our business.”

  “Dorsun”—Khan looked and nodded at the man—“is not as well-known as I am here in Keshtor. However, his appearance is one of a military officer. He would have a good chance to pass into the inner city alone, and then he could bring us through a smaller postern gate at the rear of the city.”

  “Aren’t those guarded?” Salina asked.

  “Always,” Dorsun answered.

  “Yes, of course, but Dorsun can create a diversion or some such.” Turning to face his companion, Khan asked, “Can you meet us at the northern gate?”

  The former Kesh chieftain nodded. “The one near the curtain wall?”

  “No, that’s too close to the inner keep. I am referring to the postern gate between the two westernmost drum towers next to the bastion.”

  “Where the bartizan overlooks?” Dorsun asked.

  “Yes, exactly. We will meet you there in roughly an hour.”

  “That part of the fortification was seldom used when I garrisoned there,” Dorsun said. “It would make a fine place to enter if an alarm isn’t sounded.”

  “Well, then see to it that no alarm is made,” Khan said, smiling at the man. “Let me have your rod.”

  Dorsun reached behind his cloak and pulled out his stained wooden baton that signified he was a Kesh commander. Khan took it and, using his staff, imbued it with a spell that changed its appearance considerably. It now looked as if it had silver caps on either end, as well as silver inlaid symbols along the shaft of the wood.

  “What did you do?” Salina asked, peering at the modified baton.

  “It is an illusion,” Khan explained, handing it back to Dorsun. “I believe the command rods have been altered to prevent imposters from causing confusion and chaos within the military ranks. I have simply altered its appearance to match what I saw from the Red Throat Company commander when we were back in Ulatha.”

  “Not sure how it works, but if it helps, then it’s good with me,” Salina said, not understanding the significance of the change, and Khan wasn’t keen enough to see her confusion.

  Dorsun added an explanation. “The silver is expensive, rare, and difficult to forge.”

  “Ah,” Salina said, nodding and giving Khan one last look before gracing Dorsun with a smile.

  “What if this fails?” Targon asked. “I’m not leaving my mother, if she is in there, alone for another day after coming so far and so close.”

  “Then you can attack the Kesh garrison with us, and we will all die, more than likely,” Khan stated too factually for comfort. Turning to Dorsun, he said, “Go. We shall meet at the postern gate. You remember the plan we discussed?”

  “Aye, Master,” Dorsun said. He nodded at the Ulathans and disappeared into the night, with Salina gracing him with a small wave goodbye of her hand.

  Khan’s next words w
eren’t so comforting. “Here goes nothing.”

  The guards looked like they meant business, and they wore cleaner, sharper clothing and armor than the usual ones, at least to Dareen’s eyes. Darker was standing nearby almost gleefully as the preparations for her transfer were being made.

  An old man brought in her chains attached to manacles for her hands and another pair of leg cuffs that would complete her restraints. The warden opened the door with a feral look, appearing to have found or replaced the key to her cell. There were at least a half-dozen guards in the room, and more were heard in the hallway beyond the door. The fact that her move was being done at night was most unusual, but that was when the murders had taken place. The one last night was the last straw for Jakar and her captors.

  Dareen started to despair, and she had heard nothing the last couple of days from Alister, who had vanished into the night once again. The old man was stooped over as if it pained him to straighten his back. His clothes were dirty and ragged, and he looked as if he were on the verge of death. He barely managed to carry her restraints and appeared to be treating them as if they were poisonous.

  “Serves ya right,” Darker said to her as he held her gate open and stared at her. “You should be killed on da spot for what ye’ve done, wood-witch.”

  Dareen frowned at the wicked man and almost missed the wink she received from the old man who started to put her restraints on her. She cocked her head and looked at him, seeing something familiar, but it wasn’t clear to her what until the man’s face shimmered and she saw Alister staring back at her. He held a finger to his lips to shush her, and then the face shimmered again and he was the dirty, old, unkept dungeon servant once again.

  He gingerly put her leg bindings on and then motioned for her hands. Dareen complied and held them out in front of her. He put them on gently, locking each manacle around her slender wrists, and then gave her a wink and whispered, “Remember my instructions. Wait till you are in the presence of the High-Mage.”