The unsuspecting mage ms-1

by Brian S. Pratt

  Noticing his problem, Ceryn offers him the bed he awoke in earlier, an offer James is no way able to refuse. After thanking his host, he uses his spear again as a crutch and makes his way to the back room. Climbing into bed, he thinks to himself, Lucky to have found Ceryn. Not many would have taken a stranger into their home and fed them. I owe him a lot. A few lingering thoughts about what the next day may hold are all that he is allowed before sleep takes him.

  Thud!!!

  The sound of the bedroom door crashing open startles James out of a deep sleep. Sitting bolt upright, he turns bleary eyes toward the doorway. Three sword-wielding men wearing worn, mismatched pieces of armor enter and do a quick look around. Upon seeing James, one of them turns to holler out the door, “There’s another one in here, a lad hiding in the bed. Ceryn lied!”

  From outside comes the reply. “Bring him out. We’ll take care of both of ‘em.”

  One of the men heads toward the bed.

  James is still unsure what is going on as the man takes him roughly by the arm and hauls him to his feet. Pain from his wound shoots up his leg as his foot hits the floor. Crying out in pain, he is propelled through the door with a shove. James stumbles into the front room, his injured leg protesting with every pain-filled step. Another rough shove from behind and he’s pushed toward the door leading outside. Despite the throbbing in his leg, he somehow makes it through the doorway without falling.

  Not far from the front of the cabin are two more men with drawn swords standing next to a bound body on the ground. As James is pushed forward, he discovers it to be Ceryn. He’s relieved to see the Forest Warden turn his head and glance silently at him. At least Ceryn is still conscious and alert. One of the men who took him from the cabin pulls his arms behind his back where they are bound painfully tight. Once his hands are secured, he’s pushed roughly to the ground next to Ceryn.

  “Don’t move and keep your mouth shut!” one of the four sword wielding men commands.

  James glances at the man and nods.

  Seeing that James plans to cooperate, the guard grunts then turns to his partner.

  With their captor’s attention, for the moment, focused elsewhere, he scoots closer to Ceryn until they are less than a foot apart. “Who are these guys?”

  “Outlaws. They’re mad because I brought one of them in and was executed. He killed two women who were traveling through here a while back.”

  “What are they going to do with us?”

  “They’ll probably torture and kill me. You…” Ceryn pauses as one of the guards glances in their direction. When the guard again focuses his attention elsewhere, he continues. “You they may kill or they may take you south and sell you to the slavers. Sorry, lad.”

  An outlaw a little larger than the rest and bearing a tattoo of a snake on his left forearm storms over to Ceryn and kicks him in the side. “I told you to be quiet! Another word and I’ll cut out your tongue.” To emphasize his point he kicks Ceryn hard in the side twice more before walking off.

  Two outlaws continue standing guard over them with their swords drawn and ready. James leans closer to Ceryn and in a barely audible whisper asks, “Are you ok?”

  A sleight nod of Ceryn’s head is his only answer.

  “I’m going to try and loosen your bonds.”

  Ceryn meets his gaze and shakes his head. “Too risky.”

  “Just be ready.”

  Their gazes meet and there must have been something in James’ eyes for Ceryn nods.

  Concentrating on envisioning their bonds coming apart, James whispers:

  Ropes that bind me and you

  Come apart in pieces two.

  James feels a slackening in the rope binding his arms together as the fibers part. Ceryn gives him a look full of surprise as his wrists are once again free.

  Whispering so only Ceryn can hear, he says, “Now for the outlaws, be ready.”

  Another nod from Ceryn, he understands.

  Looking around he searches for something that can be used to hurt, maybe even kill the outlaws. His gaze comes to rest on the fire and an idea takes shape. Speaking softly, he casts his spell.

  Fire that’s hot

  “Hey, the boss said no talking.”

  Ignoring him, James continues,

  Fire that’s bright,

  The guard takes a step toward him. “I said to shut up or I’ll shut you up.”

  Send balls of flame

  “Ok, you asked for it” Taking two more step, the guard reaches his side, and prepares to kick him in the head.

  Before the guard can complete the maneuver, James looks him in the eye and shouts:

  To burn outlaws this night!

  At the final utterance of the spell, magic streams from him as flaming balls erupt from the fire. The outlaws have only a moment to realize their danger. One such fiery projectile nearly singes James’ hair as it slams into the man standing before him. The resultant explosion knocks the outlaw back and showers James and Ceryn with sparks. Similar bursts flare throughout the area.

  The spell uses far too much of his unreplenished reserves, draining what strength he has and causes him to black out. Ceryn sees James pass out but can’t take the time to determine if he’s okay.

  Screams of pain and confusion fill the night air. Rolling to the side, Ceryn kicks out with his foot and brings a guard whose clothes are afire to the ground. He deftly avoids the flames as he takes possession of the guard’s sword. Upending it, he plunges it through the man’s chest, pinning him to the ground.

  Quickly getting to his feet, he places a foot upon the dead outlaw’s chest and pulls the sword free. A nearby guard cries out as his hair ignites and goes up in flames. Moving toward him, Ceryn strikes out with his sword and the outlaw’s head goes flying. The head hits the ground and rolls like a flaming ball until coming to a sizzling stop.

  Another outlaw lies smoldering on the ground. Still another races through the forest, a pillar of flame in the darkness. The man’s screams echo through the night. Scanning the area for who may have escaped James’ flaming attack; Ceryn finds no sign of the leader. Counting those taken out by the fireballs, he realizes two of the leader’s henchmen remain unaccounted.

  Returning to James, he finds him still breathing but is unable to rouse him. Using one hand, he grabs his shirt and drags him toward the cabin. In his other, he retains the bloody sword which has already taken out two of the outlaws. He doesn’t get far before the man with the tattoo appears from the direction of the river. Behind him walk the remaining two outlaws, only one seeming to have emerged from the attack unscathed.

  “Ceryn,” the tattooed man shouts, “I’m going to gut you and let the animals eat your entrails while you’re still alive to enjoy it. And then I’ll cut the heart out of that demon damned mage.” Covered in burns, clothing charred nearly beyond recognition, he makes a frightening sight. The tattooed man comes for Ceryn while the other two move to flank him.

  Knowing they’ll follow him and ignore James as long as he’s unconscious, Ceryn leaves him on the ground and approaches the outlaws with sword at the ready. Three to one would be bad odds in a normal situation but after what James had done to them, the outlaws will be slowed by the pain.

  Ceryn feints at the one on the right; out of the corner of his eye he sees the one on the left coming in to his exposed flank. When the one on the left slices toward Ceryns’ head, Ceryn drops to the ground and rolls toward him, striking a serious blow to the outlaw’s thigh, opening an artery. The Warden leaps back to his feet as the outlaw gives out with a cry and drops to the ground.

  The leader comes in with a swift thrust aimed at Ceryn’s chest which is deftly blocked, then is forced to jump back when Ceryn counter attacks with a slice to the leader’s leg. Unable to avoid, Ceryn’s sword opens up a shallow cut on his upper thigh.

  Seeing an opening created by Ceryn’s attack on the leader, the remaining henchman leaps in and thrusts. Ceryn twists just in time and manages to receive only a
small cut along his shoulder. Ignoring the pain, he feints at the leader and then comes back with a backhanded slice causing the henchman to stumble backward and trip over the outlaw writhing on the ground, doing his best to keep his life’s blood from leaving his body.

  Seeing his chance, Ceryn presses the leader who is becoming weakened from the loss of blood and the trauma of having been burned. Slash, block. Block, slash. He needs to finish the leader before the remaining henchman regains his feet and rejoins the battle.

  Ceryn slices at the leader’s head, at the arm, the head, back and forth. The leader successfully blocks each of Ceryn’s maneuvers.

  “Ceryn, you cannot win. I am the better swordsman!”

  Undaunted by the taunts, Ceryn doubles his efforts.

  Having regained his feet, the henchman moves to rejoin the battle. Ceryn sees him approaching and with a burst of speed and skill, continues his attacks upon the leader.

  The henchman finally rejoins the battle and presses Ceryn hard, giving the leader time to drop out of the battle for a moment to catch his breath. The henchman hammers away. Hack, hack, slash; his attacks have very little skill, as if he was trying to bull his way through Ceryn’s defense with naught but brute strength.

  Using skill acquired through dozens of conflicts, Ceryn successfully blocks each of the attacks and begins to understand the rhythm of the henchman’s attacks. Hack, hack, slash. Hack, hack, slash. Timing it just right, he blocks the next two hacks and when the henchman comes in with the slash, Ceryn drops under the incoming blade and thrusts with his own sword, taking the outlaw upward through the chest. Ceryn kicks out with his foot to dislodge the outlaw from his blade and turns to find the leader coming straight for him, a wild look in his eyes.

  With a primal scream, the leader charges. Wielding his sword in both hands, he brings it down with all his strength, attempting to hew Ceryn in half. Striking the leader’s sword, Ceryn succeeds in deflecting it away, throwing the leader off balance. Ceryn then kicks out with his foot and connects with the leader’s knee. With satisfaction, he hears the knee joint snap. Off balance and with knee broken, the leader cries out in pain as he twists and drops face first to the ground. Moving to finish it, Ceryn slices through the leader’s back and severs the spine.

  Paralyzed, the leader stares with hate filled eyes at Ceryn as the blood flowing out of him first brings unconsciousness, then death.

  Panting, Ceryn wipes the sweat from his brow as he surveys the battlefield and finds only smoldering, dead outlaws. He tosses the sword down and returns to James. He lifts James from off the ground and carries him into the cabin where he lays him upon the bed.

  Waking the next morning, James finds a blood-soaked Ceryn lying next to him. Checking to make sure the Forest Warden still lived, he discovers that most of the blood staining Ceryn’s clothes is not the Warden’s. Even though he has a head that feels like it’s being used as an anvil, James manages to rise and investigate the situation outside.

  The area in front of the cabin is a scene of carnage. Bodies litter the ground and blood is everywhere. His respect for the swordsmanship of Ceryn is high. He moves from one outlaw to the next. Not finding any that still lives, he returns to the cabin and builds a fire in the fireplace to ward off the morning chill. Not with magic for after last night he can’t even think of magic without his head hurting. The spell with the fire had been far too draining. In fact, it had almost killed him. He determines to refrain from using magic for the time being, at least until he regains some of his strength.

  He finally gets a good fire going then hangs the remnants of last night’s pot of stew over the flames to warm. Taking an empty jug, he hobbles with the aid of his spear out to the river and fills it with water from the river. Once back in the cabin he fills a bowl and locates a somewhat clean cloth. Taking them into the bedroom he begins cleaning the blood off of Ceryn.

  Not long after beginning, Ceryn awakens. His unexpected grabbing of James’ hand startles him and nearly causes him to spill the contents of the bowl.

  “I can take care of this myself, I’m not that weak.”

  Smiling, James replies, “Just returning the favor. You saved our lives out there last night.”

  “I think we both deserve credit with still being alive.” Sitting up, he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “You have many surprises about you, yes?” Coming to his feet, he heads for the door.

  “I suppose I do.”

  James grabs his spear as he accompanies Ceryn to the river. His leg still hurts badly, but with the aid of the spear, he’s able to make it without fear of making it worse. Changing the subject, James asks, “Who were those guys last night?”

  Ceryn kneels at the water’s edge and commences washing away the blood staining his hands and arms; something he was far too tired to do the night before.

  “The leader’s name is, or was, Garrett. Some called him Garrett the Snake after the tattoo of the green serpent on his arm. His little band of cutthroats has been raiding this area for a couple years now, but no one has ever been able to stop him, until now. There’s a reward for taking him down. I’ve no use for it, and since you saved us last night, you can claim it.”

  “Uh, thanks, but I wouldn’t feel right about taking all of it.”

  Turning his head, he glances up at James. “Take it. If you don’t, it’ll just be used to fatten some administrator’s purse. I’m sure you could use it.” After removing all traces of blood from his exposed skin, he gets back to his feet and returns to the cabin. Once inside, he inspects the cook pot and uses his big spoon to stir it. A sniff and taste later, pronounces it ready. Removing it from the fire, he carries it to the table.

  James lends a hand by taking the bowls and spoons from the shelf, plus a couple mugs and sets them on the table. While he serves the stew, Ceryn pours the ale and they set to eating.

  After Ceryn finishes his first bowl, he looks at James and asks, “So, you’re a mage, eh?”

  “In a matter of speaking. I’m sort of new at it.”

  “New or not, that was some spell you cast, with the balls of fire. Quick thinking. You would be good to have on one’s side in a fight.”

  Reddening slightly under the praise, he shook his head. “Not too good if I pass out before it’s all over.” He still feels ashamed at his weakness of the night before. He feels like he let Ceryn down when he needed him most.

  “Now don’t you belittle what you did last night. What you did turned the tide in our favor and without it, this morning would have found us dead or wishing we were.” Ceryn lets James take a second helping then scoops out the rest for himself.

  James thinks about what Ceryn had said, coming to admit that there might be some merit to it. Feeling slightly better, he downs the rest of his ale and lets out a loud belch.

  Ceryn chuckles. “After we finish here, I’ll hitch my horse to the wagon and take you into Trendle.”

  It isn’t long before their bowls are empty. Ceryn glances to James and says, “Just rest here while I get the wagon ready. I’ll bring it around front. We need to bring in the bodies if you’re to receive the reward.” Heading out the door, he turns and makes his way around the cabin to the corral behind the house. In a few minutes he has his horse hitched to the wagon and is bringing it around to the front.

  With a strength belying his wounds, one by one he gathers the bodies of the outlaws and places them within the wagon. After the last outlaw rests in the wagon, he uses a tarp to cover the grisly scene and returns back inside to inform James it’s time to leave.

  James hobbles to the bedroom where he gathers his belongings, then carries them out to the wagon where Ceryn is already waiting for him. Tossing his backpack up to the Warden, he asks, “You didn’t happen to see a book lying on the ground back where you rescued me from the wolves did you?”

  Catching the backpack, Ceryn shakes his head. “No, but I wasn’t looking for one either. I was more interested in saving your life. Why? Was it important?”<
br />
  “Yeah, it was.”

  “Too bad. I doubt if we could find it now. If you lost it during the last fight with the wolves, then it’s in the river and no telling where it would be now.”

  With a helping hand from Ceryn, James manages to climb onto the wagon and takes his seat next to the Warden. “I guess you’re right.” He feels bad about losing the book, but realizes there is little that can be done about it now. No sense bemoaning what can’t be changed.

  A flick of the reins and Ceryn gets the horse moving. They pull out onto the dirt lane leading from his cabin. After a short ways it meets the main road running along the Kelewan River which will take them into Trendle.

  Not far from where they turned onto the road they find where the outlaws had picketed their horses. Pausing for only a short time, Ceryn gathers the horses and ties them in a line behind the wagon. Once they are secure, he returns to his seat and gets the wagon moving once more.

  For a time they remain quiet as James takes in the beauty of the area. To his right is the rolling Kelewan River, well over fifty feet across and flowing smoothly. The sun filtering through the trees banishes the morning chill and makes way for a warm summer day. The birds flitter to and fro and call out in a multitudinous chorus.

  “How far is Trendle?”

  “About a day’s ride. We should be there by nightfall.”

  Glancing at James, he adds, “I probably should warn you that mages are not well thought of in these parts. Some bad things happened a while ago and, well, let’s just say that the people haven’t forgotten. They don’t much trust strangers at all, really. It takes them a while to warm up to anyone. They’re good people, just wary.”

  “I can understand that. I’ll try not to give them reason to distrust me.”

  “There’s a family that I know who has a farm just outside of town. If you like, I could take you there and see if they’ll let you stay with them while you’re recuperating.”

  “Yes, I’d like that. I’m a pretty quiet person who tries not to be a bother to anyone.”