Blinded by Power: 5 (The Death Wizard Chronicles)

by Jim Melvin

  “Nissaya is lost? I assumed it was so, but this is the first I have heard of it. As for why I am here, that is a long story also. We would have arrived sooner, but we lost track of your company. The marshes are trickier than they appear.”

  “Tricky or not, we will soon be rid of them,” Madiraa said. “We are close to the northern border already.”

  What the Asēkha said next caused Tew to gasp.

  “Princess . . . I mean, my queen . . . do you not know? For quite some time, you have been walking south—into the interior of the swamp,” Rati said. “North is that way.”

  He pointed in the opposite direction of where they had come.

  THE MOMENT THEY started southward, the ground had become as mucky as a pit of tar. And when they’d reached water that was knee-deep, a powerful current blew against their lower legs that caused even Rati to struggle. To take his mind off the difficulties, the Asēkha had counted his steps. After one thousand, he’d come upon the rear of Madiraa’s company. As if admitting defeat, the current had suddenly slackened.

  “Are you certain?” Madiraa said now. “Both Indajaala and Palak assured me we were going in the right direction.”

  “I am Asēkha,” Rati said.

  “If Rati says we are lost, then we are lost,” Indajaala said. “But the question then becomes, why are we lost?”

  “There is evil here, though it has not yet revealed itself,” Rati said. “Thus far, you have done what it wanted you to do. But when you attempt to thwart it . . .”

  “Yet thwart it we must,” Madiraa said. “Please, Asēkha . . . lead the way.”

  “I will do my best. But there are only twenty of us. It will be impossible to protect all of you.”

  “Black knights, conjurers, and Pabbajja are spread throughout our ranks,” the queen said. “They will suffice.”

  “Come then,” Rati said. But the moment he took a step northward, the evil of Kauha awoke.

  First the current returned, only this time even stronger than before. Then Rati heard distant screams, as if some of the weaker among them had already fallen. This was followed by an otherworldly wind that swept around them. The water began to bubble and roil, making a noise as maddening as the humming of druids, and the muck at Rati’s feet felt like rubbery lips sucking at his boots. Now everyone was screaming, and panicked blasts from the staffs of the conjurers and tridents of the Pabbajja illuminated the dark air. The dense canopy above caught fire, which seemed to further enrage whatever it was that assailed them.

  Rati heard Madiraa shout, “Indajaala! The swamp has me. I cannot escape its grasp.”

  The conjurer reached for her, but Rati got there first, grabbing her slim wrist with his huge hand. When he touched her, a thunderous blast leapt up his arm, casting him back. It seemed the swamp wanted Madiraa more than anyone else.

  Indajaala grabbed her next, but it was too late. Down she went into the dark water, her screaming face the last to submerge. The conjurer disappeared with her, and when Rati splashed forward and reached out for them, he found only muck.

  “Princess!” Rati screamed, forgetting in his confusion that she now was a queen. “Madiraa! Where are you?”

  The canopy continued to burn, lighting the horrific scene as brightly as day. One by one, Madiraa’s host was drawn under, screaming like the victims of slaughter. Though Rati was stronger than a cave troll, even he could barely keep his head above the water. What this vicious assault had to do with Dammawansha’s vision was beyond his comprehension. Aya had been right. It was dangerous to follow in the footsteps of a dream.

  “We must depart this foul place,” Rati shouted to any who remained.

  Then he took one step.

  Another.

  And another.

  That’s three.

  Now . . . four, five, six.

  Only a few thousand more to go.

  At least he was headed in the right direction.

  Several times during their escape from the swamp, Rati was sucked so deeply into the muck that his face was drawn under water. The powerful arms of nearby Tugars pulled him free, though the Asēkha returned the favor more often than he received it. The quicksand-like bottom made each step a struggle and every movement a test of endurance. But in the end, Rati and all nineteen Tugarian warriors plodded their way through Kauha and emerged from its northern borders. When they finally were clear of the last of the mire, it was past dusk.

  Still gasping for breath, Rati and the Tugars collapsed on the hard gray grass, their black outfits caked with fetid mud. Lucky for them, there was no sign of golden soldiers or other enemies nearby.

  “Three thousand, six hundred, and thirty-three paces,” Rati said to Silah, the nearest Tugar.

  The veteran warrior chuckled wearily. “And we’re as smelly as ghouls.”

  “Are all Tugars accounted for?” Rati said.

  “Yes, Asēkha,” Silah answered. “But of Madiraa and her large company, only three were saved.”

  A Pabbajja, his hair a grotesque tangle of grime and debris, crawled over to Rati and then managed to stand. The Asēkha plucked a black worm from the top of the strange creature’s head and cast it aside.

  “The spirits of my brothers and sisters now reside in the swamp,” the Pabbajja said. Even his trident was caked with mud. “It is a terrible loss, and my sadness knows no bounds. But my people have grown overly used to such things—and have learned to carry on.”

  “Pro marittha bahuumaanena ca vikkamena. N’atthi uttara pasamsaa (They died with honor and bravery. There is no higher praise),” Rati said.

  The Pabbajja bowed. “My name is Gorlong, and I am at your service.” Then he backed away.

  Two others approached: a man and a woman so weak they could barely walk.

  “Beg your pardon, master warrior,” the man said, black mucus oozing from his nostrils. “Me and my missus want to thank you for saving our lives. Without your help, we could not have made it out of that nasty swamp.”

  “He is Maynard Tew, a Duccaritan pirate who has reformed his ways,” the woman said before shaking filth from her hair. “And I am a countess from Senasana, and my name is Dhītar. I fought alongside Chieftain Kusala and Asēkha-Tāseti against witches and ogres, and I earned their respect. I ask now for yours.”

  This amazed Rati, but he sensed no deception. “You were with Kusala at Nissaya?”

  “Yes, Asēkha. At Nissaya, and before.”

  “How many days have passed since you last saw him?”

  As quickly as possible, Dhītar told the story of the fall of Nissaya and the flight through the catacombs, including their encounter with the dragon. Tew threw in a few choice tidbits to liven up the tale.

  “The last time we saw the chieftain, he was alive and well—and headed toward Jivita,” Tew said. “He was mad, kind of, at the princess . . . er, queen . . . for not going with him. But like any royal person, she was stubborn.”

  Rati arched an eyebrow at Tew, then focused his attention on the countess. “And The Torgon was not with Kusala?”

  “We never saw him,” Dhītar said.

  “I saw him,” Tew said proudly. “Before I was taken into the city, the great wizard asked me a couple of questions. The giant spoke to me too. Both of them were kind of mean.”

  Dhītar gave the pirate a sideways kick to the shin.

  “Ow!”

  “Be quiet, Maynard,” she hissed. “The Asēkha will not be pleased to hear uncouth words spoken about his king.”

  Tew’s face went red. “Sorry, master . . . I meant no harm.”

  But Rati had no time for admonishments. Too much had been laid at his feet already. Torg was dead, and Kusala, if still alive, was hundreds of leagues away. Nissaya had fallen, but he knew nothing of the fate of Jivita. It was possible, perhaps even probable, that with The Torgon dead, Invictus had taken Laylah prisoner. Was it also probable that she was in Avici?

  And what did any of this have to do with Dammawansha’s vision of The Torgon struggli
ng in the evil darkness of Kauha? It was obvious that his king had died far away from the marshes. The Asēkha was missing something crucial but had no idea what it might be.

  Silah grasped his bicep, interrupting his reverie. “What now? There are only twenty of us—well, twenty-three. Do we storm Uccheda by ourselves?”

  Rati looked at her, and his expression grew grim. “We will do what we do best, kill as many as we can before we too are slain. But first we will approach the tower in secret and take a look around. If we can find a way, we’re going inside. It might be that there’s someone there who needs our help.”

  Saving the Daasa

  53

  WHEN INVICTUS HAD transformed Lucius back to his original state, the firstborn had felt naked in more ways than one. As an ordinary man, if he could call himself one, his fighting abilities were average at best, especially when compared to the Tugars. And when compared to the sorcerer, he was as helpless as a toddler.

  “What shall I do with you?” Invictus had said. “This, certainly, is not sufficient punishment for your traitorous acts.”

  Though a part of Lucius had wanted to run up the hill and attempt to throttle Invictus with his bare hands, the survivor in him had grabbed Bonny’s arm and ran. In doing so, he felt like the ultimate coward, but at the same time he’d known he had no other choice. He was no threat to Invictus. But the sorcerer was very much a threat to him. The Sun God could crush him like an ant underfoot.

  With every step, Lucius sensed death overtaking him from the rear. Soon a bolt of golden energy would blow him apart. But somehow he continued to live. Somehow he ran farther and farther away. Then the pink-skinned Daasa were gathering around, and he and Bonny were lifted onto their backs and carried off by creatures as fast as galloping horses. Quickly, they left the battle behind, charging tirelessly through lovely fields of grass and flowers. After a while, even the suffocating heat the sorcerer had induced released its grip, and cool breezes stroked their brows. Near dusk, they reached the southeastern border of Dhutanga, where the trees still were friendly, and there were plenty of places to hide.

  Finally, the Daasa stopped by the eastern bank of Cariya. A finger of fresh water led away from the bank and coursed at their feet. Lucius and Bonny knelt and drank deeply. The Daasa joined them, and afterward they frolicked amid the trees, playfully wrestling with one another. Less than a thousand had survived the battle, yet they seemed unperturbed.

  Lucius looked at Bonny and sighed.

  “We abandoned our friends,” he said.

  “What else could we do? We are . . . changed. Can you feel it?”

  “Yes,” the firstborn said sadly.

  Surprisingly, Bonny smiled, her eyes sparkling with hope. “Lucius, don’t you understand? We are changed! We’re . . . normal. You and I can go away . . . somewhere far away . . . and live like a husband and wife should live. Surely, after all we’ve been through, the One God will bless our union.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be pleased by this. I thought you liked it when you changed.”

  “In some ways I did like it, especially when I was able to hurt people who had hurt me. But now that I feel what it’s like to be ‘normal,’ it’s as if I have been cured of . . . of . . . some disease.

  “Lucius, I love you . . . and I love the Daasa too. Now we can go wherever we like, and no one will blame us. It’s not like we have the power to do anything against the sorcerer. When Invictus put the spell on us, he believed he had hurt us. But what he really did was set us free. Can’t you see? Look around. Even the Daasa are pleased.”

  At first her words made him angry. Then his expression softened. Standing there naked and fragile, his woman looked fresh and beautiful. Still, there were certain truths that could not be ignored.

  “Bonny, are you saying we should forget that our friends are in danger? Do nothing but think of ourselves?”

  “Would that be so wrong?” Then she grasped his biceps with her small, strong hands. “You want to help our friends. So do I. But committing suicide won’t help anybody. Lucius, don’t you see? There is something we can do that will mean a lot to all our friends . . . and even to the world.

  “I know where the pirate ships are. I know how to sail them. If we can get ourselves a ship, we can take the Daasa across the ocean. We can take them home. Isn’t that a good thing?” Then she became so excited that she literally jumped up and down. “The One God wants us to do this. It’s why we were spared.”

  This intrigued Lucius. “Won’t the ships be guarded? And even if we could get aboard one of them, you can’t sail all by yourself. I won’t be of much help.”

  “I’m thinking that whatever happened after we ran from Invictus, Jivita will still be safe—at least for now. Won’t Invictus head straight back to his tower in Avici? So we could go to Jivita first for supplies and grab us some coins and jewels that might pay for a crew. If we go quick enough, we can be gone from the White City before much of anybody even knew we were there.”

  “It just might work,” Lucius mused. “At least we could do something good for somebody.”

  “It would be wonderful for all of us, sweety. We’d be far, far away from here . . . and the nasty sorcerer too. We could go across the ocean and never come back. We could even teach the peoples over there about the glory of Ekadeva.”

  By the time they crossed Cariya, it was dusk. Lucius and Bonny, no longer strong enough to ford the raging currents, each rode on a Daasa’s back. Once across the river, they took stock of their situation. Lucius wasn’t certain if the Daasa would leave the forest when there was no battle to lure them, especially when it appeared they no longer possessed the ability to transform. But for whatever reason, the Daasa continued to trot happily along, as if wandering through treeless fields had become a common behavior.

  “Why are they following us so easily this time?” Lucius said.

  “I don’t know. I guess they have become used to it.”

  One bell before the arrival of dawn, they approached the northern gates of Jivita. There was no one at the wall, not even a lighted torch. Lucius and Bonny did a quick search of the bulwark and found an unlocked storage room that contained, among other items, some underclothes and a pair of green cloaks to cover their bodies.

  The broad fields inside the gates were also empty, except for several hundred horses running free in the darkness, apparently too young or small to have been ridden into battle.

  “If we borrow a couple of these when we leave, we’ll be able to move a lot faster,” Lucius said.

  “We’ll need two each to keep them fresh and another pair to carry our booty,” Bonny said excitedly. “I feel like a for-real pirate come to raid the rich.”

  Despite all that had happened, Lucius chuckled. “We’re not thieves. Whatever we take, we’ve earned. We’ll consider it soldiers’ wages.”

  Though the fields were dark, the great city that was laid out before them was anything but. Lamps and torches lighted many of the castles, cathedrals, and manses. One area, near the queen’s palace, was particularly aglow.

  “Navarese must be there,” Lucius said. “That’s probably where he’s gathering everyone who remained in the city. We should go and find out.”

  Bonny grabbed his arm. “I’m not so sure we should let ourselves be seen. What if the general thinks our plan is no good and tries to stop us from leaving? I know I’m talking crazy, but I have a weird feeling about this. War brings out the worst in people.”

  As it turned out, their choice was made for them. Out of the darkness rode a dozen white horsemen, still fully armored, though the barding on their destriers had been removed. Lucius had no idea how they had been alerted, perhaps by unseen scouts or by the behavior of the horses running free in the fields. When he turned back to watch how the Daasa were reacting, he noticed that their purple eyes were reflecting the torchlight. For this reason alone, their approach might have been visible from a considerable distance.

  A white horseman dismoun
ted and approached Lucius and Bonny.

  “General Lucius, is that you?” the large man said. “And Bonny Calico?” He removed his dented helm and bowed.

  “Captain Julich, it is a pleasure to see you again,” Lucius said. “I was hoping you were among the survivors.”

  Julich chuckled ruefully. “There is not a part of me that doesn’t ache in some way, and I am almost too exhausted to stand. But there is no rest for the weary. Though few of us remain, General Navarese is already making plans for the defense of the city.”

  “But the queen ordered the general to evacuate to the havens,” Bonny said.

  “The queen is no longer among the living,” Julich said. “Burly the Enchanter claims to have witnessed her murder. As soon as the general heard this news, Navarese ordered a company of horsemen to return to the battlefield to investigate. In the meantime, he refuses to abandon Jivita, proclaiming that the One God would demand nothing less. Still, he will be pleased by your arrival.”

  “Invictus used his magic on us . . .” Bonny started to say, but Lucius hushed her.

  “Captain Julich, we have no plans to remain in Jivita,” Lucius said. “We came here for clothing and supplies, and also for some horses, if you would be so kind. Then we will be on our way to the forest.”

  This obviously dismayed Julich. “But you must stay. Though our army is decimated, there is still no safer place in the world than Jivita. And the general will insist on speaking with you.”

  “Insist?” Lucius said.

  “You remained at the battlefield after we were ordered to leave. You know things that we do not.”

  “We know less than Burly, who was there longer than we. I would have stayed and fought—and I’m sure you would have done the same—but the sorcerer was too powerful. It was better that some of us survive than all perish. That was Torg’s desire—and Rajinii’s too. As for insisting that we stay, that would not be wise. If Bonny and I are threatened in any way, the Daasa will not be pleased.”