Abuse of Power (Rise of the Mages 1)

by Foster, Brian W.

  “If it’s not meant to be, I’ll make it be.”

  She smiled, the first time he’d truly seen her face light up. His heart leapt, and he waited, only fidgeting slightly, until the tender and Benj finally made it to the center of the square. They arranged themselves facing the tender, who stood under the arch, with Benj beside Auggie and the sealer beside Alaina.

  The tender addressed the mayor in the back. “As the representative of the power of law over the union of man and woman, do you give your permission for this marriage?”

  A cloud of dust rose above the road just outside of town. Emar would be there in minutes.

  The mayor spoke in a loud voice. “Duly elected by the people of East Shadehalm, serving by the grace of his lordship Duke Asher of Vierna and in deference to his laws and those laws of the kingdom of Bermau under the auspicious rule of King—”

  Auggie spun. “Blast it, man! We don’t have time for this. Just say, ‘Yes’.”

  The mayor looked stricken. “Uh, ah. I suppose …Very well. Yes. I approve the union of these two fine—”

  Auggie cut off his words with a glare.

  The tender nodded. “The state having given sanction to the binds of matrimony, the Holy One must give his blessing. Let us pray.”

  Auggie bowed his head and closed his eyes. For a minute, no one said a word. Another minute. Two. Five. He reopened them.

  Clouds floated by, and the tender sought guidance. Bees played among flowers, and the tender sought guidance. The catcher’s men galloped closer and closer, and the tender sought guidance.

  Was the old man ever going to say anything? Auggie was going to be as white-haired as him before the nuptials were complete. Finally, the “amen” came, but it was almost too late. Thundering hooves echoed off the town’s buildings. Emar would arrive way too soon.

  The old man opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he appeared to lose focus. He looked around as if trying to figure out where he was.

  “Sir?” Auggie moved his finger in a circle trying to signal the man to get a move on. “Our w-wedding?”

  The tender started. A light of recognition flashed in his eyes. “Yes. Where was I? Let us pray.” He bowed his head, as did the others except for Benj and Auggie.

  The catcher’s horses topped a rise just outside of town. Auggie raised his palms in question. Benj shrugged.

  “Sir?” Auggie said.

  The man didn’t respond, so Auggie repeated himself louder. The tender opened his eyes and stared with a blank expression.

  “Just say ‘you’re married,’ and I’ll slip a ring on her finger. That’s all we need.” Auggie reached for his coin purse. “I’m prepared to make a generous donation.”

  The old man stared at Auggie as if seeing him for the first time. “You can’t buy the Holy One’s consent.”

  Auggie flexed his hands and started to speak, but Alaina grabbed his arm.

  “Good tender, has the Holy One given His blessing?” she said.

  The tender gazed dotingly at her and opened his mouth. His countenance changed. Brightness filled his eyes, and he seemed to loom over the couple despite being a foot shorter than Auggie. “Blessed are your union and his rule and your child. Granted is his power to mend that which was rent through avarice. Allowed is her happiness. Grieved is the brevity.” His voice rose to thunderous volume. “So let it be.”

  Power flowed from the old man and forced Auggie to step back, shocked. When he recovered, the tender appeared just as lost and confused as before, and the horsemen had reached the edge of the square.

  Auggie bared his sword. The four-foot length of steel glistened in the sunlight. He pushed Alaina behind him, and Benj matched his stance. The startled tender stumbled toward the mayor.

  Emar and his fourteen men reined to a stop before the wedding arch. “You’re outmanned and outclassed, dukeling. Even the rule of law is on my side. Surrender the girl.”

  A half dozen of his men dismounted.

  Auggie snarled. “She’s a high noble, now. You can’t touch her.”

  Emar smiled. “I don’t see a wedding ring on her finger.” He turned to one of his men. “Pharell, do you see a ring?”

  “No ring, my lord.”

  “Without a ring,” Emar said, “the ceremony isn’t complete.”

  He gestured, and two of the black-liveried men restrained Auggie.

  “And it won’t be.”

  Auggie roared and surged forward. Emar retreated his horse several steps as three of his soldiers interceded with blades drawn. Benj clamped onto Auggie’s back.

  “You are not taking her.” Auggie twisted free. “If you try, I swear I’ll hound you for the rest of my days.”

  “There’s more chance of a rowboat surviving a hurricane than me relinquishing my claim.”

  If they got into a melee, there was too much risk of Alaina getting harmed. Of course—despite Emar’s bluster—the situation had to be just as difficult for him. If he tried to take Alaina by force, he risked injuring Auggie, thereby condemning himself to death by the duke’s justice.

  There was only one solution. But it would only work if Emar had any honor at all.

  “I see no other choice.” Auggie snarled his mouth into a feral grin. “A duel it is.”

  Alaina seized him around the waist. “No! Milord!”

  “Against the son of a duke? My life is forfeit regardless of the outcome.”

  Auggie pulled away and turned to Benj. “On my honor as a soldier, as a man, and as the niskmo of Vierna, I forbid any to punish this man for what happens between us during an honorable contest—contingent, of course, on his acceptance that his loss means his men abandon their claim to Alaina.”

  “No!” she shouted. “Please?”

  “Shut up, witch, or I’ll give you even more cause to hate me after I dispatch your man.” Emar sneered. “Your pathetic stipulation is accepted.” He turned to his men. “You are ordered to disperse in the unlikely event of my death with no repercussions toward any here. Do you understand?”

  His men all gave various forms of nods or salutes, uniformly glib with anticipation. It probably wasn’t the first time they’d seen their leader fight a duel. Auggie grinned. It wasn’t exactly his first, either.

  As Emar dismounted, Alaina got in Auggie’s face—as much as someone two feet shorter could anyway. “I won’t allow this.”

  “This is the only way.” He tried to nudge her away, but Benj grabbed his arm.

  “Listen to her, big man. This isn’t a good idea. Small, quick guys like him always give you trouble.”

  Auggie yanked his arm free and stepped past the two of them. “I’m doing this. Hold her back, lieutenant. That’s an order.”

  The mayor stepped forward. “My lord, as the duly elected—”

  Auggie glared at him.

  The mayor cleared his throat. “Uh, my lord, I’m afraid I must insist the legal proprieties be followed. I cannot allow—”

  Auggie drew up to his full height and filled his voice with command. “You’ll allow what I tell you to allow. I suggest you and your people step back, shut up, and never speak of it again.”

  Pale, the mayor retreated. Alaina, the three townspeople, and the guardsmen formed a ring on the grass surrounding Benj, Emar, and Auggie. Holding his broadsword before him, Auggie flexed his arms, causing his muscles to strain against the sleeves of his armor. The catcher appeared almost bored as he held his tiny rapier and stretched his thin frame.

  Benj stood between the two combatants and held a white handkerchief above his head. “Emar M’unda, third to the earl of Nahda, are you prepared?”

  The catcher nodded.

  Benj turned to Auggie. “Irresponsible idiot who is risking his family line for the sake of a peasant girl …” He inclined his head at Alaina. “No offense.”

  She just stared at him blankly.

  Benj shrugged and returned his attention to Auggie. “Are you prepared?”

  Auggie grinned. Benj thr
ew the cloth in the air and dashed from the ring. When the first edge of the linen touched the grass, Auggie swung hard at the catcher’s head. Emar ducked. Off balance, Auggie staggered to the side as Emar struck a glancing blow.

  Auggie clutched a hand over a nasty red line drawn through the tough leather on his forearm. He backed away to regroup. One hit was all he needed. Just one hit. He launched an attack at Emar’s stomach.

  Emar jumped back, but Auggie didn’t let the miss carry him off balance. He thrust at his opponent’s heart. The catcher darted out of the way and connected with Auggie’s leg.

  Blast it!

  Auggie limped away, the injury a bloody reminder to be more cautious. Rads-infested cowards who wouldn’t fight you head on. Dodge and slash. Bah!

  Emar darted in again, the tip of his blade a blur of motion. Auggie raised his sword more out of instinct than deliberation and deflected the blow.

  Over the next few minutes, Auggie held back and only attacked when he spotted a clear opening. With his quickness, Emar evaded each blow and inflicted two more small wounds.

  Auggie’s energy waned, and his breath came in ragged spurts. The huge sword multiplied in weight as a week of hard riding and little sleep caught up with him. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his arms and legs grew sluggish. Blood trickled from nearly a half dozen cuts. He couldn’t keep up the fight. If he didn’t end it soon, he was done.

  Emar shot in close. As the catcher thrust, Auggie let the thin blade slice into his shoulder. Desperate, he tried again to win with a single mighty blow. The heavy steel whistled through the air with tremendous force. Emar bent like a reed, and the swing missed by inches.

  Blood poured from the new wound, the worst one yet. Clasping it with one hand, Auggie retreated, his breath labored.

  Emar still looked as fresh as when they started. If Auggie didn’t do something, he was going to lose. His life—and line—ended. Alaina.

  A roar of rage and frustration would feel good, but it would also show weakness. Auggie’s mind spun. There had to be something he could do to win.

  He recalled a trick one of his swordmasters had used. Might work. It’d hurt like crazy, though. But pain was better than death.

  Auggie summoned all his remaining strength. He was only going to get one shot. A desperate gamble. Succeed or fail, the fight would be over.

  Holding the broadsword with only his left hand, he struck hard from right to left at his opponent’s stomach. As expected, Emar danced out of the sword’s range. Auggie let the momentum from the miss carry him around, making it look like a mistake.

  Emar took the bait and flitted forward. Auggie clenched his right hand into a fist.

  A sharp point stung his buttocks. The pain was intense, but Auggie smiled. He whirled around to finish his turn, finding Emar’s head in perfect position.

  The roundhouse connected. Bone and cartilage crunched as Emar’s nose flattened. Blood flowed, and dazed, Emar staggered back.

  Auggie swung with all his weight behind his blade. Emar, flailing and stumbling, brought his rapier up just enough to turn the broadsword flat. Instead of cutting him in half, the mighty blow pounded his ribs with an audible crack.

  Emar let out a whoof as breath fled his lungs. He bent, his face a mask of pain.

  Auggie grinned and hit the rads-infested sack of shit with an uppercut. Emar flew backward and landed in a heap on the grass.

  Time to end the fight. Auggie flipped his sword so the tip pointed toward the ground. He’d be merciful—a stab though the heart would end Emar pretty quickly. Faster than to the gut anyway.

  “No!”

  With Benj to protect his back, Auggie ignored the yell. Grasping the hilt with both hands, he straddled the prone catcher and raised the sword above his head.

  Something plowed into him from behind and bounced off. He barely even noticed the collision, but how the crap did Benj let someone get that close?

  Auggie swiveled his head and found Alaina lying on her back. He glared at Benj, who just shrugged.

  “What are you doing?” Auggie said.

  Alaina rose shakily. “Trying to stop you from killing him.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Because he’s done nothing wrong.”

  Auggie’s mouth gaped. “Done nothing wrong? He kidnapped you, held you captive, and plotted to turn you over to a man who plans to rape you. What more wrong could he possibly have done?”

  She put her hand on his arm. No matter the circumstances, he couldn’t get over how much he liked her touching him.

  “He arrested me to collect his rightful bounty,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Auggie sputtered. “You saw how he acted toward that innkeeper. It’s not right.”

  “And that’s worthy of death? That’s your idea of justice?”

  Auggie gawked at her. She couldn’t possibly mean it. Emar was a horrible, horrible man who deserved death. Period.

  Alaina rubbed his arm as they stood there staring at each other. Her fingers tracing circular patterns on his skin through his leather armor. Despite his best efforts, his rage faded.

  “Our abuse of power is far worse than his,” she said.

  Auggie tightened his grip on the sword. “Come again?”

  “How many commoners are killed every day just because someone thinks they might have magic powers? There’s no one to save them, yet you seek to marry me to keep me safe.” She turned away. “I never should have agreed to this. I’ll go with him.”

  Auggie spun her toward him and grabbed her hand, engulfing her tiny fingers with his. “Alaina, you don’t mean that.”

  The mayor cleared his throat and looked like he was about to speak. A glare from Auggie shut him up.

  She tried to pull away, but Auggie held tight. Why was she so insistent on giving up? Was the thought of marrying him that bad?

  If that was how she felt, he wouldn’t force her, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her dying. “How about a deal?”

  She frowned.

  “I’ll let this scum go if you agree to do everything you can to save your life. A life spared in return for yours being saved. Will that soothe your conscience?”

  She stared at him. “You’d kill him if I say no?”

  Emar groaned and tried to rise to his elbows.

  Auggie didn’t move his eyes an inch from hers as he lowered the tip of his blade to Emar’s chest. He pressed. “What do you think?”

  She gritted her teeth, and for an instant, he thought she’d refuse the offer. Instead, her shoulders slumped. “You win.”

  Auggie grinned in triumph. “Do you yield, Emar?”

  He nodded. Auggie withdrew the broadsword and eyed him warily as two of the guardsmen helped lift him.

  “Depart Vierna today,” Auggie said. “If I ever see you or your men again, I’ll forget my promise to the lady.”

  Auggie swayed on his feet. Benj retrieved bandages and ointments from their saddlebags, but Auggie wouldn’t let him tend the wounds with Emar still present.

  The guardsmen struggled and, after much cursing, got Emar atop his horse. So much depended on his honor. If he ordered his men to take Alaina, there was nothing Auggie could do about it.

  But Emar stayed true to his word and departed without making a fuss.

  Auggie leaned on his sword until the last black-liveried man passed from sight. Once dust swallowed the flank rider, Auggie collapsed to his knees.

  16.

  Alaina tugged at August’s fist, still clenched from the tension of the fight.

  For once, she’d do the right thing. Let him off the hook. He opened his hand, and she placed the two rings in it.

  “What are you doing?” he said.

  “The threat is past. There’s no reason for us to go through with the marriage.”

  His face fell. “But—”

  Alaina closed her hands over his. “Milord, your heroism is truly remarkable. I can’t thank you … I wish …” She co
uldn’t meet his eyes. “You, the niskmo, risked your life for me. Just remarkable.”

  “You really don’t want to marry me?”

  She turned from him and hid her face. “There’s no reason for it.”

  “Just because one catcher is now off your trail doesn’t mean others won’t find you. Marriage is the only way to ensure your safety.”

  Why was he fighting so hard for her? He’d won. Played the hero. What more was left?

  “As a grown woman, my welfare is no one’s concern but mine. And that certainly is not a reason to get married.”

  He pulled away from her. “I thought we had a deal. You get safety, and I fulfill my responsibility to produce an heir.”

  How could he not understand?

  “Listen to what I’m telling you,” she whispered. “That’s no reason.”

  August leaned closer to hear her, his face puzzled.

  “He could get you pregnant,” Benj said. “People seem to consider that a valid reason for getting married.”

  Alaina glared at the moronic lieutenant. Even August scowled.

  “Okay. Sorry,” Benj said.

  “Milord … August …” Alaina grasped for words.

  She ran her fingers across his broad shoulders, imagining life with him—a good life of wealth and comfort and children. But what was any of that without love. Who was she kidding? He didn’t—couldn’t possibly—want her.

  “But—”

  “For the love of the Holy One!” she yelled. “Can you please just let it go? This is painful enough for me without dragging it out.”

  “Painful? For you? Are you that … You know what? Forget it. Good luck to you.” He rose and staggered toward the lieutenant.

  Fantastic. She had two niskmoes who hated her. “Here. Take your money.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

  August spun, his expression a mask of rage. “Keep—”

  Alaina buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t bear whatever he was going to do.

  Silence lasted for several minutes. When he finally spoke, his voice came from right beside her. “I don’t understand. You’re the one who doesn’t want to marry me. Why are you upset?”

  “I never said that!”

  “What?” he said. “You’re obviously upset. You’re crying.”