The Lords of Anavar

by Jim Greenfield

  A spell rose up around Macelan. Gerrand could see the terror on his face as he realized Princess Alicae was a sorcerer weaving the same spell that imprisoned him so long ago. The air around them jelled into an orange mass muffling Macelan's voice. Suddenly, Gerrand heard the laughter of his former master.

  "Gerrand! You nearly had me, but she did not tie off the spell properly. I sensed her hesitation and stopped her. You had me believing she was a sorceress! How clever, my old friend, but again, too little against me."

  The spell dissipated and Macelan waved to Gerrand.

  Gerrand felt victory slipping away as Macelan held the Princess. Her magic dissolved around her and she slumped into Macelan. He shook his fist at Gerrand and vanished into a black mist under the trees.

  Gerrand started forward when a black flame erupted out of the forest and knocked them all down. Many of the soldiers were too close to where Macelan had been and died. Gerrand landed heavily against a tree root.

  "My hero."

  Gerrand looked up. Faeya Ryr wiped the blood from his eyes and he stared at the trail where Macelan and Princess Alicae disappeared.

  "I have failed," he gasped. "I am still the lesser sorcerer."

  "Not quite," smiled Faeya Ryr. "Let's hurry to catch up. Torby Mola's soldiers will provide protection for us."

  "Why?" asked Gerrand.

  "Because he is sworn to protect me." She pulled Gerrand to his feet. "Come, my love. There is still time to set this right."

  They left the other Mages caring for Kisle Ber and Alec Endria. The final task was left for Gerrand and Faeya Ryr alone. Gerrand had run out of ideas. His head ached, his teeth ached and he did not know how he was to take another step.

  "Leave everything to me," smiled Faeya Ryr. She kissed him softly on his cheek and led him by the hand.

  Out of the rubble of the keep, Deah Vole stumbled. He cursed under his breath. Zae Pol treated his wounds and he followed the trail of Gerrand and Faeya Ryr. A figure trotted across the bloody grass toward him. Deah Vole clapped the man on the shoulders.

  "Need company?" asked Skellen. "I have a taste for more action."

  "I'd be pleased. Let's catch Gerrand and see how we can help."

  "What about the High Priestess's soldiers?"

  "I have a feeling they follow Faeya Ryr."

  "Really?"

  "There's something about her I can't put my finger on."

  "Anyway, watch out for Gharom too."

  "Isn't he dead yet?"

  "No, but save him for me," grinned Skellen.

  "Like hell I will." He laughed. "It's good to be with you again, friend."

  A doorway appeared in the south side of the keep and Petyr Wolk walked through it. Without looking around, he moved directly into the woods. Artus Endria watched him approach in silence. Wolk did not notice him until it was too late.

  "Petyr? Where are you headed?"

  "Ah, Artus! A surprise to be sure. I am looking for new quarters. Between Macelan and Gerrand, the old keep is just not livable anymore. How about yourself, Artus. Where are you headed?"

  "Back to Finald, after I settle with you."

  "Ah, I see. Well, do you think you have learned enough to settle with me? I controlled you once. It won't be hard to do a second time."

  Artus' face contorted with effort and he smiled grimly.

  "You surprise me, Artus. You have grown much stronger so quickly. But not strong enough."

  The woods went black. No light penetrated. Wolk's voice seemed to come from everywhere.

  "You see, Artus. I have great skill. I believe you erred waiting to meet me alone."

  "That was your error," said Alec Endria. Streams of green light cut through the darkness and Wolk's silhouette was visible. Artus Endria brought forth all his frustration and pain in a cleansing fury that engulfed Wolk. Wolk cried out and fought back. Sweat ran down Artus's face burning his eyes but he held tight to his spell. Wolk's efforts grew weaker.

  Suddenly, three shapes appeared next to Wolk. Artus recognized the demons he met within Wolk's keep. They tossed aside Artus' spell, grabbed Wolk and vanished.

  Artus leaned against his father as he regained his breath.

  "Did they rescue him?" asked Alec Endria.

  "No. It was a just dessert late in coming."

  Chapter 19

  Kisle Ber's lungs ached. He ran and ran and did not see Gerrand or Faeya Ryr ahead of him. How could the old sorcerer move so fast? He laughed. It was sorcery, of course. He looked back and saw the shapes of Deah Vole and Skellen panting behind him. They moved quite well, but Kisle Ber was faster. He pushed harder and harder but gained no ground on Gerrand. The trees seemed to draw closer and the path narrowed. A mist rose and the air chilled suddenly and he knew sorcery was all around him. He felt it before he heard it- the hair on his neck rose and the air around him pressed his chest and then the thunder blew through the forest swirling the mist and knocking him to the ground.

  Kisle Ber jumped to his feet and continued on. He heard no sound, the damp mist muffling all sound.

  It was Kisle Ber's quickness that saved his life.

  The faint ring of steel reached his ears and he ducked even as he unsheathed his sword. A masked attacker came out of the mist and their swords rang as they collided. He heard the shouts of his companions as more shadows leapt at them from the mist.

  Again their swords met but this time Kisle Ber was the aggressor. He pushed his assailant backward and struck at his knee. The attacker cried out and lost his footing. Kisle Ber drove his sword into the man's neck. Two more figures came at him forcing him backward. He moved to one side so they both could not attack at the same time. He struck upward against his opponent's sword then slashed downward through his opponent's stomach. He leapt over the falling foe and plowed into the other one. Three quick thrusts and Kisle Ber turned to his companions who faced the last swordsman.

  Kisle Ber left the last attacker to his companions. He hurried down the path, knowing they had lost ground on Macelan. The mist thickened and he slowed to keep sight of the path. Shadows and shapes were all around him but he could not determine what they were. His sword arm was ready.

  He saw a shape on the path before him. Someone lay face down. He stopped and waited. The figure was breathing. He nudged it with his foot, but no response. After looking around once, he reached down to turn the figure's face toward him.

  It was Gerrand. Kisle Ber rolled him over. Gerrand's eyes were open but unfocused. He helped the sorcerer to a sitting position as Deah Vole and Skellen caught up with him.

  "Is he okay?" asked Skellen.

  "That blast must have been Macelan's sorcery," said Kisle Ber. "Gerrand seems to be stunned."

  Deah Vole looked around. "There's no sign of Faeya Ryr. This damn mist! I can't see ten yards!"

  "Macelan has claimed this area," said Kisle Ber. "But I can still feel the Princess' presence. It doesn't seem to be moving away anymore. How far she is, I cannot tell. Out of earshot probably, but that's only a guess."

  "Better than nothing," said Deah Vole.

  "Gerrand? Can you hear me?" asked Kisle Ber.

  The sorcerer looked at Kisle Ber. "Who are you?"

  "Great!" cried Deah Vole. "This is the last thing we need."

  "What is the first thing?" asked Gerrand. "An old fool who failed to vanquish Macelan?"

  "Gerrand! How could ask 'who are you' to me?" asked Kisle Ber.

  Gerrand looked at Kisle Ber, and then shook his head. "For a moment I wasn't sure where I was. I had seen visions a moment before."

  "It was Macelan," said Deah Vole. "He blasted this whole area with some kind of spell. Knocked us all off our feet."

  "Hm. Doesn't seem like him," mused Gerrand. "But he may be desperate. Where is Faeya?"

  "We don't know. She wasn't here when I found you and Deah checked the immediate area."

  "No sign of her."

  A sudden noise made them jump.

  "It came from that way!" said
Deah Vole.

  A low growl penetrated the mist.

  "Stalkers!" said Gerrand.

  The sound came from all around them. There was no source to the sound. It seemed to swirl with the mist, coming closer, then fading. The men stood back to back.

  Gerrand tried to shield them but he was too weak to call upon his sorcery. The unhealed arrow wound from Eva's cursed quarrel seemed to absorb what sorcery he put forth. Kisle Ber rushed to meet the Stalkers with his sword high. The Stalkers dodged with amazing speed and one struck him from the side sending him sprawling. Skellen struck one but the tough hide did not allow the blade to penetrate. Kisle Ber jumped to his feet and joined Skellen in attack. The second Stalker moved in on Gerrand who was shielded by Deah Vole.

  The Stalker raised its arm to strike Deah Vole then paused. Its feline eyes stared at him for several moments. Deah Vole could see traces of human features in the savage face, but only because he knew of its origin. His initial fear turned to pity despite the fact he knew he might die. It lowered its arm and starting mewing.

  "What's happening?" asked Deah Vole.

  "It remembers you," whispered Gerrand.

  "Remembers me? How?"

  "When you touched that dead Stalker, remember what you saw?"

  "That was a dream."

  "No, it was real. I saw you outside the camp when I was a young man. I spoke to you. The Stalkers remember your smell. I have none because of my sorcery. I freed several that day before they were changed. But your smell was in the wood. It remembers you as the one who helped them."

  "How old are they?"

  "Hundreds of years old. Macelan wove spells to make it so."

  The Stalker mewed again and the other one came to it. They both looked at Deah Vole and then turned away and vanished into the mist.

  "I don't believe it," said Skellen. "I knew you were fearsome Deah, but that was amazing."

  "I stand in awe, also," said Kisle Ber.

  Gerrand got to his feet with Kisle Ber's help and closed his eyes in concentration. The others watched him glow with power and he opened his eyes smiling. He laughed to himself.

  "Well, things are not so bad. I'm an old fool. Faeya is a hundred yards ahead of us with Macelan and Princess Alicae."

  "Is she a prisoner?"

  "No, no. We must join them."

  They found them as Gerrand had said with Macelan and Princess Alicae standing with their backs against an outcrop of rock. Faeya Ryr stood before them, waiting for Gerrand.

  "What have you done?" whispered Gerrand. Macelan appeared frozen in place. His skin began to turn blue and he crumbled into ash. Gerrand nudged the ash with his foot.

  "Only what you hoped Alicae could do."

  "Macelan?" Gerrand's expression was unreadable as he conjured flowers and placed them gently on Macelan's remains. Then he turned to Faeya Ryr.

  "But that's a spell of a sorceress! Where did you get such power?"

  "Gerrand, you are a dear. I've always been a sorceress."

  "What? I don't understand?"

  "Of course you don't, that's why you're so dear. I am a sorceress because my mother was a sorceress, and my father was a sorcerer. Melith was my mother."

  "Melith! But she banished Macelan the first time!"

  "Yes, she did."

  Gerrand absorbed this information, then his eyes widened.

  "Then Macelan's your father?"

  "Yes. Melith did not see his true nature soon enough. Once she did, she wanted nothing to do with him. But I was already on the way."

  "Where have you been all this time?"

  "With my mother, in the Toraba Forest. I decided to come south a few years ago and took up residence on Cothos. I wanted to see the rest of the world and mother spoke so highly of you, Gerrand."

  "Is she still alive?"

  "I like to believe so. She left Anavar years ago for a new start on Ryammar."

  "Why did she hide up north?"

  "She was sick at heart, and then after I was born, she was fearful for me. I think she wasn't sure how much of Macelan was in me. She had her arts and we watched you through the years. She had seen Macelan take you as his apprentice and marked your progress."

  "You look so young and yet I'm not much older."

  "Watch your tongue, Gerrand! A woman does not like to hear such things. I am young, however. Mother wrapped spells to make me age slowly."

  "Okay. I will use better discretion when speaking. Why did you not say anything before?"

  "Would you have believed my words? I would have had to display my sorcery to convince you and then Macelan would be warned."

  "Are you really related to the Empress?"

  "I'm not her niece but we are distant cousins."

  Gerrand shook his head. He planned for centuries for this moment and he wasn't even needed. He sat down in the dirt.

  "Is Princess Alicae all right?" asked Kisle Ber.

  "Of course," replied Faeya Ryr. "You can go to her."

  Kisle Ber ran up to Alicae who threw her arms around him and kissed him.

  "At least that worked out," said Gerrand. "Nothing else did."

  "Everything did!" cried Faeya Ryr. "If not for your planning I never would have gotten this close to Macelan."

  "A diversion, then. An 800 year old diversion."

  "Methinks your pride is ruling your head," said Faeya Ryr. "Don't you agree?" She looked to Deah Vole and Skellen who quickly moved away from the conversation. She put her hand on his arrow wound. Macelan's passing had healed the wound. Not even a scar remained.

  "Smarter than they look," murmured Gerrand.

  "And what about you, old man. How smart are you?"

  "Smart enough to know you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in all my life." He stood up and put his arms around Faeya Ryr.

  "Oh, you are as clever as the legends say. Let's see if we can make some new legends." She kissed him.

  "All this kissing makes a man thirsty," said Skellen. "Especially if he isn't doing any of the kissing."

  "I hear that," said Deah Vole. "I think there's an inn about six miles north. The innkeeper used to pull a fine pint of ale."

  "Finer words never spoken," said Skellen. "Let us leave these people to their own devices." They linked arms and walked north as the mist rose above the treetops.

  Chapter 20

  Kisle Ber led them to the private chambers of Queen Beatrice. The guards nodded as they passed. Princess Alicae held him tight as if she feared he would vanish. Just a look in his eyes showed that he would never leave her. Alec and Artus Endria, Zae Pol, and Lars Vokas were instructed to take their seats.

  "I did not expect to see my daughter again," said Queen Beatrice. "I thank you for returning her to me."

  "Our assistance was minimal," said Zae Pol. "Gerrand and Faeya Ryr did the lion's share."

  "Nevertheless, I am grateful. I judge by your son's expression that he knows the truth, Alec?"

  "Yes, he does."

  "What plans do you have Alec?" asked the Queen.

  "I plan to rebuild the castle at Lathor and reorganize the council of Mages. There are a couple more Mages to invite to the Council. Alicae for one and Deah Vole for another."

  "I see. That activity might keep you from attending me."

  "Artus can see to much of the work," smiled Alec Endria. "He is quite capable. I should have ample time at my disposal."

  "How nice," said Queen Beatrice. "Are we safe from Macelan?"

  "Yes," said Alec Endria. "Faeya Ryr sealed the ash from the body Macelan possessed in the same cave where his body lies still frozen by her mother's spells and Gerrand enhanced the spells warding the cave. It would take a great sorcerer to free him."

  "Kisle Ber, I hope you are free to remain with us?" asked the Queen.

  "Yes, your Highness." Alicae hugged him.

  "As I see no way to forbid it," the Queen muttered. "So tell me where is Gerrand? I have much to say to that old man." "He and Faeya Ryr have gone back to C
othos. They have some things to work through but I think we will be seeing them soon."

  "Will there be a big wedding?"

  "If Faeya Ryr has her way," said Zae Pol. "And she will. She related to the High Priestess so I believe it will be quite the event. Poor Gerrand won't know what hit him."

  "I am disappointed to hear that Gharom escaped. He is craftly and will not fear the Mage Council. Sending troops after him would be a waste of effort. However, he will attack us again I fear."

  "At least he won't have the entire Curesian army at his command," said Alec Endria. "Lemmin Menn is in power until the nobles of Curesia decide on a ruler."

  "Lemmin Menn is who they should choose," said Kisle Ber. "I would welcome him as ruler of Curesia. He earned his rank. Few of the nobles can say the same."

  "Yes, and I suppose I should make you a Duke or something," said the Queen. "If you are to be my daughter's husband." She looked at Alec. "I knew you would complicate my life, Alec. I should have listened to that little voice in my head."

  "I am glad you did not," said Alec Endria. "Who could stand a boring life?"