Warlords Rising

by Honor Raconteur

  “The sooner the better,” Becca confirmed. “We don’t have enough room to put them all here and if we get them out of Trexler now, then we avoid complications.”

  Slapping his hands to the armchair rests, he pushed himself up to his feet. “Then I’ll leave you two to write.”

  Nolan paused mid-word and looked up. “Why? What will you be doing?”

  “Testing to see who’s going to panic on me underground. I’d rather know now who needs to be unconscious. Also, I need to send word to Tiergan and have them ready to go so I can swing by and pick them up on the way.”

  Nolan gave an ‘ah’ of understanding and bent back over the letter. He paused barely a word in. “Wait, Trev, I have an idea. Get Azin up here to melt down some of the gold, or at least take it into market and sell it. We should send at least some money with our magicians so Garth isn’t scrambling to financially support all of them.”

  “Genius, Nolan. I’ll send her up to you.” Trev’nor was firmly of the mindset that anything they could do to ease the potential wrath of the adults was a good thought.

  Becca scooted over to sit next to Nolan, leaning over his shoulder to read as he wrote. Before Trev’nor had even cleared the door, they were already disagreeing on what was being written. Trev’nor was just as glad to skip that little debate.

  Finding an open window in the hallway, he stuck his head through it and called out, “Garth?”

  “Hear you fine, fledgling.”

  Of course he did. “Can you relay the message to the dragons in Tiergan and have people get ready? Tell them I’ll come and get them, oh,” he did some quick calculations in his head, “about two hours from now.”

  “Will.”

  Satisfied, he withdrew and headed down the stairs. He rather hoped that neither Nolan nor Becca would think to tell Garth that he now had an older dragon namesake. That reaction he’d rather see in person.

  In the course of Trev’nor’s life, he had only been in Q’atal a handful of times. Mostly to visit with Xiaolang, once to help re-do the ward with Garth to make it larger than the original. His last visit had been nearly three years ago and he had grown considerably since then. Having changed the wards with Garth, he knew exactly how they were created and where the sole doorway into the country was.

  There were no magicians in Q’atal, of course, so no one had any mirror broaches. Instead, they had a pillar in the middle of town that could communicate with a similar one in Strae. It wasn’t capable of passing along much, just an impression of needing Garth and how urgent the need was. Communication magic, over that kind of distance, without a magician on both ends to operate it, had its limitations. But for Trev’nor’s purposes, that pillar would do the job adequately enough.

  The problem was, he had nearly five hundred people with him. That was a lot to drop on someone unannounced, even if they did know who he was. Worse, the timing had worked out so that he was coming in at nearly six in the evening, which meant imposing on people even further. If the situation hadn’t been as chaotic in Trexler, they wouldn’t have immediately taken all of the magicians out, but instead waited until morning.

  He took everyone to the door and ushered them just inside. Then he hopped up on a short bench so they could all see and hear him. “Everyone, as discussed, just wait here! It might take a good hour for me to return, but you’re perfectly safe here!”

  “We understand, Warlord,” several people assured him.

  Hopefully they did. Blowing out a breath, he hopped down again and headed for the country interior. He barely made it to the first row of houses before coming face to face with the Remcar-ol. Trev’nor put on a game smile. “Ah, hello.”

  “Magus Trev’nor, what are you doing here?” An Meiling demanded. She didn’t sound upset, but her eyes were a little wide in her face and there was a flush on her cheeks that made her skin look lavender. “I sense a great many people with you.”

  “You sense correctly.” Even though Trev’nor had spent nearly four hours getting here, he still had no idea where to start explaining. “I promise to tell you the full story, but the short story is that Nolan, Becca, and I have rescued five hundred magicians that were enslaved in Khobunter.”

  The whole Remcar-ol burst out at once, “WHAT?!”

  “There’s more, a lot more,” oh so much more, “but for now, can you let them in for the night? I don’t have a safe place to put everyone.”

  “Of course we can, child,” Li Shen was already moving, faster than his elderly appearance would lead someone to believe he was capable of. “An Quon, inform everyone to prepare beds.”

  “Everyone ate before I brought them here,” Trev’nor assured the man, almost belatedly. “And no one’s seriously injured, Nolan healed people before he let me leave.”

  An Quon waved in acknowledgment over one shoulder but didn’t slow down.

  Trev’nor was ever so glad that this was a country of empaths. The whole nation would feel exactly the turmoil of the ex-slaves and know how to react to them. It also meant he didn’t have to go into a lengthy discourse of what had happened, what was wrong, or anything like that. They could read enough from the people to get the gist themselves.

  He didn’t think that would excuse him from telling the story, though. Not with An Meiling in charge.

  Trev’nor doubled back with the Remcar-ol and explained who they were to the waiting magicians, then helped wherever he could. The whole nation came out to see for themselves what was going on, and it was interesting to see everyone’s double-takes. On both sides. The empaths were likely overwhelmed by the strong emotional signatures of that many magicians all at once. The magicians were puzzled by seeing a blue aura—not a typical color—that wasn’t really magical. Trev’nor probably should have explained more on the way down here, but his main concern had been getting them all here without losing anyone or tripping over a random ley line.

  It took hours to find enough beds, and often the couples or parents were doubling up with family to make more room, but eventually they were all settled into different houses. Trev’nor saw several cases of the Q’atalians being overly kind to their unexpected guests, which in turn made people burst into tears, confused and not sure how to respond. They had never experienced anything like this before. Seeing it brought tears to Trev’nor’s eyes, as no one should be confused by kindness.

  An Meiling came up and gently touched him on the shoulder. “I think you should come sit down with me, Trev’nor.”

  “You’re only saying that because I’m swaying on my feet,” he half-joked.

  “That too,” she admitted. The look on her face was very maternal, an expression he had seen on his own foster mother when he was being difficult.

  It felt so nice to be in a place where he didn’t have to make decisions right, left, and center that he followed her obediently to a shaded area that offered cushioned chairs and a small brazier. It wasn’t a particularly cold night, but the brazier gave off more light than heat, and he gravitated toward it. As he sat, he realized that most of the Remcar-ol were already there and obviously waiting on him.

  Seeing this, he paused and realized that he couldn’t continue as just ‘Trev’nor’ to them any longer. Nolan had made a good argument that morning. He was now the leader of a neighboring country. He had to establish relations with them now. “An Meiling, have you contacted Garth yet?”

  “No, I have not found a moment to do so. And I did not want him coming to fetch them in the dead of night; I thought it best to contact him in the morning.”

  Perfect. That bought him the time he needed. “Good. Before I give you the story, I should properly introduce myself.”

  Yu Tung gave him a perplexed smile. “We know who you are.”

  “Not quite, Yu Tung. Things have changed since I saw you last. I am now the Warlord of Trexler.”

  The Remcar-ol went very still, so still that they resembled garden gnomes sitting around the base of a tree.

  It was An Quon that found hi
s voice first. “You—you conquered Trexler?”

  “With Becca and Nolan, yes. We had to. It was the only way to free everyone.” Wiping a hand over his face, he tried to scrub away some of the fatigue so he could focus better. “Let me start at the beginning. It’ll make more sense that way.”

  An Meiling took him by the arm and drew him gently into the chair next to hers. “Sit, Trev’nor. Tell us your story.”

  He started at the beginning, what seemed a decade ago, about Becca’s desire to investigate Khobunter and their selfish wish to have dragons. He left nothing out. There was no point in trying to skirt over events or lie to an empath. They felt his emotions as he relived the events, and often one or another would reach out and touch him, soothe the pain as best they could. It helped tremendously and gave him the strength to tell the story all of the way to the end.

  When he finished, An Meiling stood and held his head to her chest. “You poor child. What difficult decisions you’ve had to make. You should have called for help.”

  “We couldn’t,” Trev’nor denied, feeling a little hollow with exhaustion.

  “You couldn’t,” Li Shen agreed sadly. “Politically speaking, no one would have been able to come to your aid without serious consequences. Even your mentors would be hard pressed to help you at this point. Although I have no doubt that some of them will want to despite the consequences.”

  “They can help me. By taking in five hundred students and whatever other slaves we’re able to save. I’m sure Garth is going to hit the roof when he hears the full story, but the one thing I want to make clear is that this was my choice. Mine and Becca’s and Nolan’s. We knew what the consequences were going to be, what people would think of us, and likely how the Trasdee Evondit Orra would react. We chose to forge ahead anyway. All of the countries and magical organizations of the world have had decades, at least, to do something about the situation in Khobunter. They didn’t. They can’t complain when we chose to resolve the situation ourselves.”

  “Oh, they’ll complain,” Yu Tung denied dryly. “At great volume and length. But it is true they will not have the right to stop you.”

  Trev’nor half-expected an argument from the people sitting here. Why wasn’t he getting one? “No one here is complaining either.”

  “Politically speaking,” An Quon started in a particularly droll manner, “we’re very glad to have Trexler removed from power. He was a very difficult neighbor. Having someone we know and trust in that seat of power instead is a great relief to us.”

  Nolan had been dead on. He really had made a smart move coming and introducing himself as the new warlord here. “Thank you?”

  “But,” An Quon continued, giving him that Look under a bushy set of eyebrows, “I think you have shouldered on more than a seventeen-year-old should be expected to take on.”

  He was tired enough that this made him laugh. “We were a bit rash in the beginning.”

  “A bit, he says,” Li Shen despaired.

  “We have good help now, though,” Trev’nor continued. Uh-oh, this was bad. The chair was gaining a death grip on him. He hadn’t thought so before, but it now felt perfectly comfortable to sleep in. “The people of Trexler are supporting us, although it’s by degrees in some places, and the dragons have been a tremendous help. I really don’t know what we’d do without them.”

  “And now, you want us to help you as well.” An Meiling didn’t sound discouraging, more amused. “By acting as a relay point for the rescued magicians.”

  “If you don’t mind? You’d cut my travel time in about half that way and honestly, we can’t afford for me to take days at a time to settle the magicians in Strae. Nolan and Becca can barely afford for me to be gone a few hours.”

  “We prefer to help over having those poor people stuck in Khobunter.” An Quon was very firm about this point. “But child, we worry for you. You have taken on too much.”

  “An Quon, I am not,” yet, “in over my head. I probably would be without Becca, Nolan, and the dragons, but like I said the people of Trexler were glad to see the old warlord go. They’re quite happy with us so far and are slowly coming around to help establish a new rule. I promise you, the minute we feel like things are out of our control, we’ll stop and call for help. But we didn’t undertake this lightly and we have no intention of abandoning Khobunter. That country is a serious mess.”

  “And you are the one that is going to fix it?” Li Shen asked doubtfully.

  “Someone has to. I don’t see anyone else volunteering.” More truthfully, Trev’nor added, “Actually it’s not really us doing the work. It’s the people who are really changing things. All we’re doing is providing guidelines and giving them the power they need.”

  “Trexler was not a good leader. I can see how the people would readily cast him off.” An Quon leaned forward, eyes piercing. “But can you say that your success will be just as high in the rest of the country?”

  “This might sound strange, but I hope it isn’t. The reason we were so readily successful in Trexler was because the people had been badly abused for years. I hope that the rest of the country isn’t the same. I hope that it’s been better for the rest of Khobunter. But sadly, I don’t think it’ll be much different. The land right above us and to the right of us seem to have the same bad habits. Half of this country is going to be the same as Trexler.” That thought was extremely depressing. While making it easier to conqueror, it also meant that Trev’nor and Becca had more to fix. Fixing was always harder than breaking.

  “When you need our help, you will ask for it.” An Meiling was not asking. She was commanding.

  Trev’nor forced his mouth up into a tired smile. “I promise, we will. We already are.”

  “While I do not fully agree with everything you are doing,” of course they wouldn’t, the Q’atalians abhorred death, “I think you are acting with the best of intentions, and it is true that the situation in Khobunter must change. That land is a stubborn one and they respect only might of arms. You have chosen a hard road, young magus.”

  She had no idea. Well, no, she probably did. “I know it.”

  Patting his shoulder, she gripped his upper forearm and dragged him out of his seat. “We will talk again in the morning. For now, we all need sleep.”

  Trev’nor had no intention of lingering long enough for Garth to get here, which was likely her plan, but was honest enough to admit that in his current state he would probably make a costly mistake in traveling back to Trexler. He was too tired to even stand upright without swaying. That wasn’t a good sign. They had about seven hours until dawn, and he’d take the rest of the night to get some good sleep before taking off. “If there’s still a spare bed to be had, I’ll take it. If not, point me to some soft grass and I’ll make do.”

  “Grass?” An Meiling repeated, sounding scandalized.

  “I was raised by the Tonkowacon,” he reminded her, starting to feel dry drunk. “A blanket of stars and a bed of grass is all we need.”

  Li Shen put a hand to the small of his back and steered him out. “I think we can at least find a blanket and pillow, young warlord.”

  Trev’nor hadn’t been joking. In his state, just being horizontal would be enough to get him fast asleep. “Well, if you insist.”

  “We do,” Li Shen chuckled. “Ah, what it must be like to be young enough to not worry about waking up with a crick in your neck.”

  No, he likely would. Trev’nor was just too tired to care. He followed his host amiably through the dark houses. “Oh, I almost forgot. I have a full letter explaining everything and a pouch of money for Garth. Also, separate letters for Vonlorisen, and Shad and Aletha. Can you make sure those are passed over to Garth when he arrives?”

  Li Shen cast him a glance. “You will not stay and meet with him yourself?”

  “Naw, I’ll skip that lecture, thanks all the same. Besides, if I stay long enough to meet Garth, he’ll keep me for hours, and I don’t have that kind of time.”

&n
bsp; “I think you will regret it later if you do not stay and properly talk to him now.”

  “I end up regretting a lot of things, Li Shen. None of them have killed me yet.” Although Garth might, when he eventually did catch up with them. Ah, well.

  He’d worry about it tomorrow.

  Trev’nor had woken and escaped Q’atal before Garth’s arrival, which he felt a fortunate thing. Becca felt like he would regret it later, as avoiding consequences never led to anything good, but it had been his decision to make. They heard nothing from Strae, but they had no way of contacting the three mages directly aside from traveling up to Trexler themselves. With the influx of students, they couldn’t afford to send anyone after them, and the three young mages used that to their full advantage.

  They spent two weeks in Trexler, and while it was chaotic, it was also strangely peaceful. Becca found that the people of the city didn’t know how to respond to magicians at all, and oscillated between being extremely polite and letting old habits surface. Sometimes they would say something rude and cutting to her, then realize what they had done, and apologize profusely. It was hard, but she was patient with them, as she realized that it was cultural prejudice that made them react so. Habits were the hardest thing to break and losing her temper about it would not make anything better.

  Trev’nor and Azin spent half their time outside of the city, working with the soil and making it ready to return to the fertile land it was meant to be. Once they were done, they turned it over to Becca and Nolan.

  Becca spent a good portion of her day training with the soldiers. She realized in taking Trexler that they were accustomed to fighting with magicians, but the only methods that the soldiers knew were to use the magicians like cannon fodder. She wasn’t about to let them go into battle again with that mindset. Trev’nor dropped in upon request, helping her train, and had to bite the inside of his lip often to keep from laughing. Becca knew why without even asking. Her training methods were scarily like Aletha’s, with a little Shad mixed in.