by Roy C. Booth
“A pincer movement?” Jihan asked.
“Yes,” Theran confirmed, slightly impressed by Jihan’s knowledge of Dreanu military movements.
Jihan immediately waved his staff at the giant moss tree, reverting it back to normal.
“Why did you do that?” asked Irian, now scrambling with Theran to pick up their things.
“If the Dreanu see that giant tree, they will know that a wizard is among them and that he is not one of theirs. We need to keep some element of surprise here.” Jihan looked about. “There! That large oak tree on the edge of the clearing, see it?”
“Yes,” answered Theran.
“Good, climb it, climb to those large branches two rods or so off the ground. Hurry!”
With that Jihan twirled his staff and muttered an indecipherable incantation.
Theran and Iriana scrambled up the tree and took their positions on the broad branches.
“I don’t see how this will help,” said Theran. “We’re high enough up off the ground, but they can still see us.”
“I don’t know,” replied Iriana. “Jihan must know something that can save us.”
Jihan made some more odd arcane gesticulations and staff sweeps, and then bolted for the oak tree. Theran helped him up.
“There, now, one last spell and we’re set,” he rasped. He palmed the jewel atop his staff and muttered another incantation. A bubble of hazy energy enveloped them.
“Ah, that should do it, I believe. Yes, and quite nicely at that, I must admit.” Jihan admired his own handy work for a moment.
“What did you do?” Iriana asked.
“I created a mystic blind, a screen in the form of a sphere, if you will, that will keep any and all untrained eyes from seeing, hearing, and smelling us. Now, to add some final adjustments designed for our mutual comforts and we will be able to ride out whatever happens next.”
Jihan placed his soft hands on the branches and mumbled more arcane words. A natural wooden platform expanded below them, offering more room and stability, enough so that all three of them could lie down and stretch with considerable ease.”
“Amazing,” whispered Iriana, stunned by Jihan’s talent.
“No need to whisper, my dear, you can shout until you’re hoarse and red in the face, and they won’t be able to hear you. I tell you, unless they climb into this tree, or cut it down, or they have a wizard in their employ that is of equal or greater power than I–which I sincerely doubt–there is no way they will be able to tell we are here. We’re pleasantly safe for the moment. Stay where you are, and all should be fine.”
“I think we have everything, nothing was left on the grass,” said Theran while making an inventory of his gear.
“Even better,” said Jihan, sliding back against the oak’s mighty trunk, placing his wondrous jeweled staff by his side. “I took care of our tracks and scent in a five hundred foot radius as well.”
“Now what?” Iriana asked.
“Now we wait,” said Jihan, “and see what develops.”
“Look!” shouted Theran, pointing back the way they came. Out of the brush came a full squad of Dreanu foot soldiers, their bronze breastplates catching the gleam of the returning sun. The rain clouds had all dissipated back into the clear blue sky.
“Are you—” Iriana started.
“On your life, my dear, on your life. Mine, as well. Hm.” Jihan inched away from the tree trunk. “Theran, there, to the left!”
“I see them.”
Iriana followed their gazes to see three Dreanu soldiers trailing behind their chain leashed mastiffs, enormous beasts with bright red eyes.
“Kruun death hounds,” Theran muttered. “That’s how they were able to track us so quickly.”
“Aye, but don’t worry, my spells should hold, even against them.” Jihan smiled for reassurance.
“I hope so. I was once in an attachment with a few of those horrid beasts a year ago. They are aptly named.” Theran recalled the event momentarily.
Iriana shuddered.
“Well, we now know exactly how desperate the Dreanu are. I would not be surprised if we soon see their giant condor riders flying overhead.” Jihan scooched back against the tree trunk. “I suggest we rest or do something to wile the time away. We will be up in this tree for a very long time.”
There was a long pause. It was Iriana who spoke first.
“Perhaps we can tell a little more about ourselves, perhaps even a story or two.” Iriana suggested, hoping to gain more than she gave away.
“Splendid,” responded Jihan, “that and the harmonics of our words will also help maintain my spell a bit more, sound being energy and all.”
Theran blinked.
“Yes, a good idea, Iriana. Theran?” Jihan eyed the young Dreanu suspiciously, but in a friendly manner.
“Hmmm?” Theran seemed confused and guarded for a moment.
“You may go first, if you please.” Jihan now, smiling cheek to cheek, was a little more than just suggestive.
“Oh, well, I—” Theran started, wondering where to begin.
“Please tell us more about your being a sailor, Theran,” said Iriana.
“Oh, a sailor now, were you? When we get to the Wizards Circle I must introduce you straight off to Thuvalius, he’s not only a water elementalist wizard, he is also a high priest of the sea god Meratus.” Jihan took quite an interest.
“There is not much to tell, really, when I was conscripted they sent me to the naval training yards. I was immediately assigned to the schooner Rakehell.”
“Colorful name, very Dreanu, indeed. How many masts?” asked Jihan.
“Three. More than eight rods long, too,” Theran beamed.
“That’s a good sized ship. Not a warship, I take?” Jihan asked, curious.
“No, cargo. We shipped lumber, from the Red Coast to our allies, the Krinn.” Theran confirmed. “I didn’t spend much time on any warships.”
Jihan leaned toward Iriana, noting her confusion. “The Krinn are a race of island dwelling humanoids who belong to a very loose confederation made up of clans and blood oaths. They make for excellent sailors, and their shipbuilding skills are some of the best in our world. Most of the Dreanu navy is made up of Krinn.” Jihan leaned back again. “Did you serve with any Krinn, Theran?”
“No, I did not,” Theran replied, plainly.
“Probably for the best, then,” Jihan added.
“Why?” Iriana asked.
“Well, first of all they have a very nasty habit of eating people, especially those they deem their enemies.” Jihan replied.
“Oh.” Iriana seemed startled.
“And the more intelligent their prey, the better,” Theran added.
“Oh!” Iriana exclaimed.
“The Krinn see themselves as the masters of the waves, the highest notch on the food chain, natural predators, thus many other races are considered to be, well, delicacies among them … especially their brains.” Theran concluded with his own look of disgust, knowing more than he was saying.
“Ugh! How can the Dreanu even consider working with such foul beings? I’ve heard whispered tales about them, but—” Iriana started.
“Seeing as the Dreanu consider themselves the masters of the continent, they and the Krinn get along quite well due to their racially fueled arrogance, each willing to help the other through trade, military support, and in race trafficking. The Dreanu get intellectually stunted slaves that are easy to control and manage and their coastlines secured from outside invasions, whilst the Krinn get raw materials they do not have on their islands, and, well, you can imagine what they get after the Dreanu conquer another part of the world. That and the Dreanu are NOT known for their exceptional forward thinking process, er, no offense, Theran.” Jihan said, and then nodded toward Theran.
“None taken. There is a reason why my people rule with brawn and not with open hands and ideas,” Theran agreed.
“And there we go. Aptly stated. Please, Theran, continue.�
�� Jihan motioned for Theran to continue his story.
“I served for six months, mostly manning the rigging,” Theran said with no longing in his voice.
“Hence your proud stated ability at being able to tie people up when we first met,” Iriana interjected, with a broad smile.
“Oh, really?” asked Jihan with a mischievous smirk. “My, now that’s an introduction. Truly.”
“Anyway,” continued Theran, now a bit red faced, “I was adequate to the tasks assigned me, and I had an unblemished record.”
“Until?” asked Jihan.
Theran sighed. “We were en-route to the Krinn, when a gale hit us nearly five leagues from offshore. The winds were fierce and strong, and we lost our rudder. I was nearly thrown overboard, but managed to cling onto the ratlines for dear life. We ran aground, the hull splitting in two. Seventeen of my fellow crewmen were lost at sea. We managed to get our cargo safely ashore before the Rakehell broke up completely. Using parts of the ship the best we could, we built a shelter just in the tree line. My rope tying skills proving to be quite useful for the task, I may add.”
Iriana smiled, and nodded.
“We took the rest of the debris and created a huge fire pit to serve as a rescue bonfire and to cook the wild game we hunted since all of our food stores had been lost.” Theran remembered harshly.
“Tree lizards?” interjected Jihan.
“Yes,” replied Theran. “And an occasional coast pig if we were lucky. Very little fish and some gathered roots and fruits rounded out our diet. No hostile natives, so we were very lucky in that respect. We Dreanu expected to be slain on sight if there were. It also stormed for a few days, and that did not help our cause, either.”
“That must have been terrible, living in fear and in those wretched conditions,” Iriana said.
“It was part of what we had signed on for,” said Theran. “It was all something we had suspected could happen and prepared for with our survival training. Weeks later a troopship rescued us and took us back to our home port. Other than our cook and a few of the surviving officers, the rest of us were relieved of our duties and reassigned to the infantry.”
“Why was that?” Iriana asked. “Surely, as survivors you would have been considered valuable experienced sailors.”
“They were considered ‘unlucky,’ my dear, and thus had to be reassigned,” replied Jihan.
“Yes,” Theran said.
“It’s part of their caste system, my dear. If something goes wrong, there has to be some sort of scapegoat to explain why the superior Dreanu failed at something,” Jihan explained further.
“But it wasn’t their fault! How could it be? That doesn’t make any sense.” Iriana seemed angry at this practice.
“To them, it was simple: they did not complete their mission, so the dead were singled out for overall blame. For whatever reasons, real or imagined, and the surviving common sailors, no matter how competent they may have been, were taken out of the picture for good measure.” Jihan shrugged as he finished.
Theran looked down, ashamed. “Yes, that is why I am no longer a sailor.”
“But how could—” Iriana started.
Jihan stayed Iriana with his hand. “You bring us great honor by telling and trusting us with your shame, Theran of the Dreanu. Know that we do not see you any lesser because of it.”
“No, no, of course not, Theran, we understand what happened. We do.” Iriana noted the tact and diplomacy of Jihan’s words, and felt better because of them, not just for Theran’s sake, but for her own as well. She was beginning to understand and even appreciate the strange wizard.
“Thank you,” said Theran, now fully recovered by what had happened, relieved by their words, his personal sense of honor secure. He turned to Iriana. “Now you know why my oath, my promise to my father, is so important to me, especially now.”
Iriana nodded. “I understand, I think. Thank you.”
“Good,” said Jihan, quickly changing the subject. “My turn.”
“All right, wizard,” said Theran. “Proceed.”
“Thank you. You two would like to know more about my colleagues in the Order of Six before you meet them, true?” Jihan asked.
“Yes,” the other two said in unison.
“Splendid. Thuvalius I’ve already told you about, and he is easily recognized by the silver miter that he is always required to wear in public and his flowing blue-green robes. Do not look at him directly when speaking to him, only we of the Six may do so. He is as proud as he is powerful, please be aware of that. He will brook no insult, real or imagined.” Jihan paused, making sure his point was taken.
“He sounds very difficult to deal with,” said Iriana.
“Oh, no, quite the contrary,” Jihan corrected, “he is very level headed, and, thankfully, although very proud, he does not suffer from hubris. He is a very capable and gifted leader in his own right, and a very valuable addition to the Six.”
“Then who is your leader, Jihan?” asked Theran, now even more interested in the conversation than before.
“We really do not have one, per se, we’re equals among equals, although, not entirely in my case since I am the youngest of the Six.”
“You’re well over forty winters old,” blurted Theran. “In many lands you would be considered a valued elder.”
“Ah, yes, but we’ve been talking about value here, haven’t we? And value is often in the eye of the beholder and the circumstances therewith. In my order I am often seen as rash, possibly even foolish, by some. Experience is what counts and matters most amongst my colleagues,” Jihan stopped, remembering the question he was asked. “Which leads me to directly answering your question, Theran: My former mentor, Corpen, who is our eldest member at nearly three hundred years of age, is our leader by default.”
“Nearly three hundred years old?” Iriana asked. “His magic must be very powerful, indeed.”
“It is,” answered Jihan, “that, and I suspect he has some elven blood in him, as well. In any event, my nearly fifty winters pale before his.”
“Fifty?” Theran asked.
“Nearly,” replied Jihan. He cleared his throat. “In any event, Corpen has been with the Six the longest and he is a very mighty transmuter who chiefly works with stone, wood, and earth. He is NOT an elementalist, however, he does call upon other forces from the earthly planes to help do his bidding.”
“How was he as a mentor?” Iriana asked. “Was he strict?”
“Very, but also fair. If I worked hard and exceeded his expectations, I was rewarded.” Jihan laughed. “And, in all fairness, his approach made me a better wizard, expanding my appreciation for hard work and for the rewards gained from it.”
“But you also said that you are a minor enchanter?” Iriana remembered.
“Ah, Iriana, that is because that although my studies under aged Corpen are over, and he is no longer my master, I have also been studying on how to become an enchanter on my own and under the occasional tutelage of the Grand Magus Mekron, perhaps the greatest skilled member of our group.”
“I’ve heard of him,” said Theran. “Is he not the creator of the Colossi of the Land’s Edge?”
“Yes, I have heard of him, too. He’s quite the legend,” Iriana agreed.
“He is, in his own right. Unfortunately, unlike Thuvalius, he knows it and isn’t afraid to let you know, either. However, he has clearly earned his reputation and his title, so his occasional … abrasiveness is to be expected. He is very sure of himself and his abilities, so much so he is often accused of arrogance of the highest order. He is a perfectionist, and he expects perfection from all who serve under him, and from those he counts as equals. Unfortunately, there are very few who can lord over him, and he is incredibly set in his ways and thinking.”
“I see,” said Iriana.
“Which now leads me to the oil to the Grand Magus’s water, Fervin the Fat. He is quite a different character,” Jihan started.
“Fervin… the Fat?�
�� Iriana giggled at the image of a corpulent wizard flashing in her mind’s eye. “Never heard of him.”
“He doesn’t sound like a very formidable wizard, either,” added Theran.
“Ah, yes, but his name and epithet is somewhat deceiving of his skill and talent. Fervin’s specialty is in defensive and protective spells, along with anything that can make his life easier and comfortable. He actually helped me tweak the spell we’re under the protection of right now, as a matter of fact. His intellect is profound. He may well very be the smartest of us all, but he is more occupied with larger pictures of the state of the world. He is not much on pursuing problems. Problems come to him. And he is quite fat because of all of it. I am always amazed when he attends our meetings that are not held upon his vast estate or his grand hall, for he rarely–if ever–ventures from there, preferring to have one of his more, shall we say, adventuring associates do his leg work for him. While the Grand Magus is a hands on wizard, Fervin prefers not to get directly involved unless he must. He is quite the strategist, in his own right, ever preparing, ever seeking flaws to the grand scheme of things, flaws he can correct, and make better. And thus, he is often grossly underestimated, and I think he prefers it that way. In any event, at our meetings, we make doubly sure that Fervin and the Grand Magus sit apart from each other as much as possible. It’s much more pleasant that way.” Jihan made sure his listeners were following him before he continued.
“Now, while Fervin prefers to keep to his comforts of body and mind, Azurth of Korin, sometimes known as ‘The Avenger,’ was born to take to the field.” Jihan smiled at the contrast.
“How so?” asked Iriana.
“He was a knight before he became a wizard, and often still thinks like one, too. He never really relinquished his martial mindset,” Jihan answered.
“Really?” asked Theran. “There is a warrior of steel in your order?”
“Yes, and although he may not be the, dare I say, most intellectually gifted among us, he is by far the most focused. See, he is a war wizard, and his gifted sphere of magical combat is fire. He is also, at times, our moral compass, for he sees things in terms of black and white, good versus evil.” Jihan sighed in relief. “Thankfully, he is even tempered and carries an air of quiet nobility at all times. Though prone to philosophical musing from time to time. He’s the one most likely to look up and take in the whole picture present at hand. However, place him in a position to right a terrible wrong or defend the innocent, and his wrath burns brighter than his flames.”
