Maverick

by Curtis, Greg

  “And with you Master Silas.” Marjan nodded politely back to the master, knowing if nothing else that his place as the leader was gone and he could put down that burden at least. From now until they reached Calibra he would be just another refugee, and there was a certain comfort in that, especially when he could feel the might of Master Silas’ magic burning so clearly within him and knew they would be safe. But he still had his vow to protect Essaline and the children until they got there, and that burden he would keep. Besides as he suddenly realised, he didn’t know if they were heading to Calibra. He had no idea of the master’s plans or their destination. They might have to split off from the exodus at some point.

  “Good. Now that we’ve all met there are matters to discuss and a plan to follow.” The master clapped his hands together as he said it, making Marjan and the others flinch, and then started rubbing them purposefully, almost as though he was looking forwards to the travel ahead. Then again maybe he was. If nothing else it would perhaps be a chance to test himself against an enemy, and that didn’t happen often. There weren’t that many enemies in the world and very few that would challenge a master. In fact not since the wizard wars had any masters really needed to prepare themselves for battle. On the other hand since they’d crossed the chasm the only enemies they’d seen had been a couple of drakes and he’d taken care of them with two single arrows. It seemed the rest of the beasts hadn’t yet found the land bridge, and when they did, they would find much more than they’d bargained on. With the permission of the Guild he’d left a few surprises for any beasts chasing them. People and their animals would pass through undisturbed, but the unnatural creatures that the enemy called soldiers would be far less fortunate.

  “To begin with we’re here, and we need to get here.” With just a slight raise of an eyebrow to the empty air he cast a small spell and a map appeared in the air before them. A highly detailed map of the entire province of Gunderland with lines drawn in different colours of fire to represent everything from roads to rivers and forests, and a pointer made of black fire to show them exactly what he was talking about. It was an impressive spell, requiring not just concentration but also detailed knowledge and much practice, and Marjan was impressed. It was hard not to be, and perhaps that was part of the purpose of his casting it instead of carrying a map.

  Their destination was a surprise as well. They were heading to the Buntfield Crossroads, a place where the main south road running through Gunderland all the way to Calibra itself, and the East West Corridor that divided the province met, and from memory the site of a small farming community. The only thing that bothered him was that as they had travelled through the wilds, being chased by the beasts, they had been relatively slow, even since they had crossed the chasm and entered the fertile grasslands of the southern regions. Though they had surely put some distance between them and their pursuers, those of the enemy that had taken the main road south would surely be somewhere ahead of them, perhaps even at the crossroads, though to get there they would have to have gone through several small towns.

  Yet it was a good location in some ways. A crossroads between realms, and a place where people could choose their own paths as they fled. The elves could keep heading south to Calibra, the gnomes could travel east, and others if they were game, could head west through the mountain passes to southern Tonfordia, assuming it hadn’t yet been attacked by the Regency soldiers to its north, and then further west again to the wildlands of Mythos.

  “So to do that captain, we’re going to have to alter our course a little more to the east, at least for a few days, until we can get to the High Plains. From there our travel will be quicker and we can return to heading due south. Four or five days travel should get us to our destination.”

  “And what if the unnatural beasts and their demon kin have made their way ahead of us Master Silas?” The captain was clear about the risks at least as he asked the question Marjan wanted to, but then that was what one expected of a seasoned soldier. He was always a practical man.

  “Only a few have made even as far as the chasm and they have been dealt with while others are making sure that the rest go no further captain. You may be assured of that.” He smiled, perhaps a little condescendingly at him, and the captain quickly stopped thinking about asking any more questions. He knew who was in charge. Dimeter though, did not.

  “And what of the renegade? Surely he cannot come with us. Now that you are here Master he will only be in the way.” Marjan was caught a little by surprise by the apprentice’s attack, and more by the vehemence with which he prosecuted it. Dimeter’s face was screwed up with hatred, an expression Marjan hadn’t seen in a very long time, and it brought back many uncomfortable memories. He had known that Dimeter was no friend of his, but he hadn’t realised that his anger ran so deep. Nor had Ferris as he stared at the young wizard in surprise and even took a step back as if he might catch some contagion from him. Then again, Dimeter did not like taking orders from anyone let alone him and Ferris probably didn’t have any great liking for the arrogant youngster in turn as he constantly spoke down to him as well. Then again so too did Belon and Grav looked more than a little shocked. They might not be close, but they knew their manners and they knew right from wrong.

  “Will you be in the way Marjan?” It sounded like a question, polite and respectful as the master levelled it at him, but it wasn’t. It was an order and they all knew it.

  “No Master Silas. I will stay out of the way. This is now your caravan to lead.” It was the simple truth and everyone knew it, but not everyone was satisfied with it, and not everyone was willing to let it go, specifically one adept with so much anger and hatred still showing through.

  “He says that Master, but he does not mean it. He is a meddler and a criminal. A base creature that has committed offences against the Guild. He cannot be trusted. He may even be an ally of the enemy. You should bind him and leave him here for the beasts.” Despite being surprised and even a little hurt by the ferocity and actual hatred of the attack Marjan did not respond knowing that there was little point. The Master would make up his own mind as he saw fit, he probably already had long before he’d arrived, and a mere apprentice would not alter his decision one way or the other, especially when his words seemed to be based on spite rather than impartial carefully weighed facts. Besides, Master Silas had to obey the laws just as he did, and he had committed no crimes for which to be punished, no new ones anyway. Dimeter should have known better. Especially when he saw the journeymen backing away from him, not wanting to be near the angry adept.

  “Yet as he travelled he protected the people as a wizard should, leant them of his healing and his knowledge, cleverly entrapped Bathsha for a time even when our plan went awry, and he informed us each night of his plans, his every action and all he saw, while you did not. I think I will trust him for a while as will you.” Dimeter suddenly became very quiet about then, knowing he had been both reprimanded and issued an order, but that did not stop the young wizard from glaring angrily at him. His hatred, deserved or not, ran deep. Marjan ignored him.

  “Thank you Master Silas.”

  “No, thank you Marjan. You may no longer be one of us, but your actions have still done you credit as you performed your duties as the Guild expects. We are not unaware of such matters.”

  “Nor are we blind to the fact that you have grown in strength and control as well as restraint in your time apart. Your battle with Bathsha showed all of those things, and though we cannot claim the credit for your growth we are still pleased to see that you are growing straight and have not fallen into error.” Of course by error the Master could mean many things Marjan knew, but the most worrying one and the one he was hinting at was moral turpitude. Leaning towards the darker aspects of life.

  While the Master was saying he was pleased with his progress, a surprising admission, he was also gently reminding him that regardless of that or anything else he might achieve, he was expected to comply with the code of beh
aviour of the Guild even in exile. Wander too far away from it and he would move from outcast to renegade and even criminal and then they would hunt him down. Marjan wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he could stop them should they choose that path. Master Silas on his own was more than a match for him.

  Happily he had no intention of taking that darker path. Though he had made mistakes, one terrible one, he had learned from them, and he wished to make no more. He needed no more shame, no more people to ask forgiveness of, no more sleepless nights and no more guilt. He decided to change the subject.

  “Might I ask of Gunder Master Silas?” Since he was being given such unexpected praise Marjan thought he’d take the opportunity it gave him to ask the question they all wanted answers to. Just how bad things were, and from the fact that the Wizards Guild was flying away in the distance, it couldn’t be good. The master’s long face told him all that he’d feared.

  “The city is fallen, destroyed beyond our ability to restore it for the time being. Most of it is rubble and ashes, the enemy burnt everything they could, and the people, those who could not flee and who we could not save, are gone. I have no clue even as to how many lie dead in its blackened streets, nor how many more lie dead along the roads out of Gunder or in the woods alongside them. I doubt we’ll ever truly know.” He said it so calmly that it could almost be as though it was the weather he was speaking of, but Marjan could feel the anger and sorrow within him, disciplined, controlled, well hidden and very deep. He felt it too, just as he too had to keep it in check. But if it ever got loose the enemy would feel it far more clearly. That he promised himself.

  “What I do know is that the enemy paid a price for his attack, a large one. Thousands of drakes and riders were killed, thousands of enchanted ogres, minators and other stranger monsters, tens maybe hundreds of thousands of beasts and their beast men masters, tens of thousands of soldiers as well, and quite a few of their dark wizard masters as well. Though they did not dare to show their faces in Gunder, when they unleashed their creations upon us and we captured a few, we had a route to their magic and their lives and we used it. Surely five hundred such spellcasters, many of them with the strength of masters, are now in the ground.”

  “The enemy is far from defeated, but he has had his nose bloodied and will be slowed for some time.” It sounded good but it wasn’t and everyone there knew it. The enemy was still coming and despite all they had done, it was only a matter of time. Worse, they still didn’t know who he was, if they had known the master would have told them, and there would have been a plan other than retreating.

  “And the darkness of these terrible soldiers Master Silas, their terrible insanity?” While the master was in a generous mood and answering questions Marjan thought he’d press his luck, and he was more than curious about so many things. He had a need to know, if only to understand enough to strike back at them.

  “As you say, darkness. Something other than life, the complete opposite of it perhaps, that seems to power them. We think that whoever they were originally, they were killed, their bodies transformed, their souls stripped, and that terrible darkness returned in their place.”

  “Yes, I felt that too. But surely also something or someone guides them, directs them to commit their terrible evil. The same thing that created them, and the same thing that somehow lets them enter towns undetected until the moment of the attack. Something that makes them seek out whatever it is that they hunt for. Yet when I laid eyes upon the drake riders, the werewolves and the soldiers I could see that all had a terrible purpose in their black hearts, but in none could I see anything that said who or what gave them that purpose, what guided them. I could not pierce the dark, screaming madness that seems to lie at their very core.”

  “No more can we although some have theories. But on this young Marjan, I will say no more.”

  “Thank you Master Silas.” Marjan nodded to him knowing that he would learn no more from him, and that he had already been granted an extraordinary boon in being told as much as he had been. It was time to leave, rather than remain and risk being underfoot.

  “With your permission I will return to Mistress Essaline and the children, and continue to fulfil my promise to them to bring them safely home. But if there is anything that I may assist with as we travel, I am at your disposal.” With no more than that and another quick nod as the master released him, he flicked Willow’s reins and started the mare trotting back to the encampment, to do exactly as he said. He had absolutely no intention of doing anything to upset a Master, so staying out of his way was the safest, most diplomatic option, and likewise though he had truthfully said he was happy to help however he could, he knew that the master would have no need of him. Even had he been of use the master would not have called upon him. Such was the life of a maverick.

  But on the way there he gave plenty of thought to what Master Silas had told him, and perhaps even more to what he hadn’t. That they didn’t know who led the attacks, that was bad but unfortunately not surprising, as was the fact that some had theories. Some always had theories. But as to why he wouldn’t tell him of them, that was something else, something much more worrying.

  It could be that they wouldn’t tell him because he was an outcast, and as such neither of suitable learning to be told such things nor trustworthy. It could be because he simply didn’t have the knowledge to aid them. But it could also be that they wouldn’t tell him because the theories were wild. That they addressed the questions by using precepts and knowledge that were either extremely esoteric or impossible and terrifying. Or possibly all of those things.

  As a student he had long ago discovered that as you mined through endless tomes of knowledge in your quest to become a wizard, you would often find ideas and theories in the history books, or speculations in the various research papers that were seemingly impossible and often frightening. There were plenty of tales, myths in truth, of ancient wizards and other ancient beings that had achieved vast and inexplicable abilities, just as there were theoretical entities of improbable strength proposed in the research of various scholars.

  It was possible, though not something that he wanted to be true, that their enemy fell into one of the latter camps. An ancient of vast power returned to life somehow, a mythic creature perhaps, or worse someone who had mastered one of the primal magic sources or first knowledge to the point where they had gone beyond mortal ken. Perhaps someone who had found a way to ascend into the heavens as a god, which some maintained was possible.

  The possibilities frightened him, but worse than that they seemed disturbingly real. The enemy, whoever or whatever had brought them here and led them, whoever or whatever he or she might be, was no mere wizard or power mad king. This was something more.

  Yet, as the worries circled in his thoughts like buzzards, so to did a surprising happiness, and relief. If he was no longer in charge as he knew he wasn’t, than he didn’t have to worry about protecting the rest of the caravan. Master Silas would do that and he would do a much better job of it than he ever could. It would be nice to be able to put down that burden even if only for a while.

  It would also be nice to be able to ride with Essaline and the children again instead of with the captain and his soldiers. And if nothing else it would give him another chance to keep apologising for his boorish behaviour of so many days before. Though she claimed to have forgiven him, he wasn’t truly convinced and she seemed to like the wild flowers he kept collecting for her, tying them in her hair.

  The children too liked them, they loved his apologies in truth, finding them some of the funniest parts of the whole journey, and when he was around they also loved to pester him with questions, usually about why he was apologising. It was annoying, somewhat, and he was grateful for the way their teachers kept them in line, but it was also strangely amusing. Especially now that he had no secrets to hide.

  With them he realised, he had found one thing he hadn’t known in a very long time, a sense of kindred, even family.
It was going to hurt when he had to leave them, but at least he could hope that some of their time together would remain with him, memories of happier things even under the worst of circumstances. Especially when he had the fear that their circumstances were only going to worsen with time.

  ****************

  After he’d left Marjan would have been surprised to know that Master Silas had quickly dismissed the others to go about their tasks, and then stood there on the hill overlooking the refugees, staring into the empty space where he had been, the most quizzical expression on his face. Beyond the puzzlement though, there was concern and as the aging wizard chewed at his beard and simply stared into the distance, he was also wondering what to do, what to tell the others, what to even think.