by Joseph Lallo
Craaaack! Craaaack!
The men cheered.
* * *
*This isn’t what I had in mind,* Julia admitted using her magic to bespeak her friend. The flame roaring around his shield was too loud for anything else to be heard. *You’re doing wonderfully well so far.*
*So far,* he agreed, replying the same way. *My shield can’t hold against more than one at a time. I’ve never seen fireballs so big!*
*That’s because you’ve never pissed off a bunch of sorcerers before.*
He grinned, but his expression looked strained. Another round of fire engulfed them, and to their surprise, his shield held again. He really was a wonder. She’d been right to tell him not to underestimate himself.
*My first strike didn’t penetrate their ward. That was fast work by someone. Any ideas how I can get through it?*
Mathius shook his head. *Lightning comes from the sky, so the ward probably only extends overhead. If you can somehow hit them from the side you might be able to do something.*
She remembered throwing lightning horizontally the first time she’d cast it, but she didn’t have a direct line of sight this time. With nothing else for it, she decided to strike the ground around the sorcerers. Maybe she could make them scatter and drop the ward.
Craaaack! Craaaack! Craaaack!
The dust cleared to show dark-robed forms sprawled upon the ground, unmoving. They must have been struck down by flying stone! She didn’t know if they were dead or not, but they were out of action. Only half of their number were still standing. Before they could retaliate, she tried to hit the centre of the group, praying the ward no longer covered them.
Craaaack!
Her lightning slammed down, and more men were blasted into the Other World, but movement among the bodies spoke of a single black robed figure still standing. She drew hard on her magic, so hard that it roared at its confinement within her. One misstep now would drop her into an ocean of fire. She forced the god-like feeling away, and focused on the sorcerer running from the blackened crater.
CraAAAAacK!
A solid club of energy flashed into the pass. The rock directly under the hammer of her anger, turned instantly to hot particles of dust and stone, which fled the scene at such a speed, it shredded everything in its path. A clap of thunder accompanied the strike as superheated air expanded. Rocks and scree cascaded from the mountains, as they trembled in the aftermath, and Athione shook on her foundations. More of her stones toppled from weakened walls, and cries of pain arose from within the fortress, as guardsmen were struck. By the grace of the God, none were killed. Particles of rock rained from the sky long after the strike ended, but gradually the dust drifted away on the breeze to reveal the devastation below.
Silence reigned.
* * *
39 ~ Defeated
Navarien took stock. He had roughly two thousand able-bodied men left, with another eight hundred or so wounded and unable to fight. The two battalions he’d been using to ferry in supplies were untouched, but they were the only intact units he had left. He’d lost over half his legion. More than five thousand men dead. None of the sorcerers had survived except for Lucius, and he was close to death. Belgard had been the last to fall, taken unawares at the close of the attack, and good riddance. He would have killed the bastard himself if the sorceress hadn’t saved him the trouble.
It was ironic, but the crevasse that had been such a bane to his men, protected them now. If the Devan’s chose to sally, they would have to build a bridge to reach them, giving them plenty of time to flee. The thought of the Fifth Legion of the Protectorate having to flee anyone was shocking, but they would have no choice. Without magic of their own, they had no defence against the sorceress. That a girl had defeated them left a sour taste in his mouth. That one of their own had facilitated the defeat, enraged him. Belgard alone was responsible for their defeat. If they’d attacked the fortress the way Lucius had planned to in the beginning, the chances were good that they’d be on their way to Devarr right now.
He sighed, dwelling upon it wouldn’t change anything, and he needed to decide whether to obey Lucius’ last order or not. His friend—yes, he called Lucius his friend and wished he might have sooner—his friend had awoken briefly after the battle, and had ordered the legion back to Athinia. He’d asked to be left behind to die a free man. Why was he even debating the issue? He was defeated and returning home was the only thing he could do. He owed Lucius a debt. For pushing him to attack too soon, he would do this for him, and take the consequences. His ruinous decision made, he set about carrying it out.
He ordered two men to carry Lucius, and followed them up the road to the crevasse. He was very aware of the Devan bows aimed his way when her reached it, but he ignored them to kneel next to his friend. He covered him with his robe, tucking it around him like a blanket. It was the best he could do. If the Devan’s had a shred of honour they might call a healer. A slim chance at life was better than no chance at all.
“I’m sorry, truly sorry,” he said to the dying man, his words going unheard.
He stood and left his friend to die there, under enemy eyes. Upon reaching the remains of his camp, he gave the order, and the long march home began.
* * *
Julia held her magic ready as two men crossed the makeshift rope bridge. Brian was one of them, but she didn’t know the other.
“He’s a sorcerer, m’lord!”
“Give him the grace,” Keverin called back, and Brian drew his dagger.
“No wait!” Julia yelled desperately.
Brian aborted his thrust. “Your orders, m’lord?”
“Bide a moment, Brian!” Keverin ordered, and turned to her. “What would you have of me, lady?”
“We need information. He might provide it. Bring him across and I’ll heal him.”
“He’s a sorcerer,” Keverin said doubtfully. “He could kill us all.”
“I’ll keep a close eye on him. If he so much as twitches, I’ll blast him for you.” He was going to say no, she could feel it. “Please, Kev, let him live. Please?”
He hesitated, and frowned across the crevasse. “This goes against my better judgement, but if it’s that important to you, I’ll have him brought over. You and Mathius must guard him you realise? The pair of you are the only ones who can.”
“Absolutely,” she said in relief.
“Bring him over, Brian!”
Brian and his friend brought their burden over the swaying rope bridge. She didn’t like the look of it at all. If she ever needed to enter the pass, she would insist upon a better bridge. That thing was flaming scary! They dropped the sorcerer none to gently at her feet, and she glared at at them. If they injured him further, she would have to heal that too. Brian’s face remained unaffected and grim, his friend though, had the decency to flush at her displeasure. He looked down, and then away.
“Kill him the instant he looks threatening. Understood?”
“Yes, m’lord,” Brian said. He knelt next to the sorcerer and held a dagger to his throat.
“Be careful not to cut him, or I’ll have to heal that too,” she said.
The sorcerer was in his thirties, or he seemed to be, but looks could be deceiving where mages were concerned. He had dark hair, and wore a light beard that followed the line of his jaw. It was quite appealing. Kneeling opposite Brian, she quickly examined the man’s head wound. To normal vision it looked bloody, but not life threatening. She invoked her mage-sight and found that he was near death. As quickly as she could, she strengthened him before attacking the source of the purplish black light she found in his aura.
The word attacking was appropriate. The darker colours within auras often tried to evade her. This time, she managed to encircle it without too much trouble, and destroy it. She released her mage-sight then, but kept her magic ready to use. Crackles of lightning appeared at her fingertips, snapping and jumping from finger to finger. It would take less t
han an instant to obliterate him, and she would, the moment he tried to use his magic against her.
Mathius suddenly lit up, the mage glow informing her that he was ready to back her up. Their eyes connected briefly. He smiled, and then turned his attention back to the sorcerer. The man had opened his eyes, and raised a hand to touch the blade at his neck. She showed him her hand, lightning snapping from finger to finger. His eyes popped wide in alarm, and he carefully lowered his hand.
“I mean you no harm, lady sorceress.”
“Julia. My name I mean.”
“And I am Lucius, formerly a sorcerer serving in the Fifth Legion of the Protectorate. I assume that I have you to thank for healing me?”
She nodded. “It was nothing.”
“Not to me, I assure you. I’m in your debt.”
Keverin spoke before she could reply. “If you mean that, I’ll accept your oath to do no harm during your stay. I’ll not deceive you. Brian will kill you if you don’t give it.”
“If you’ll allow me to stay, I’ll gladly swear, m’lord. I don’t want to go back.”
“Oh?”
“I was in charge of the invasion, and it failed. The penalty for failure is death.”
“We should kill him now—”
“Bastard! He’s the one—”
“He killed my brother!”
“Silence!” Keverin ordered, and his men came to silent attention. “Back to your posts,” he said more kindly.
Most went quietly. One or two left grumbling. To Julia’s relief and embarrassment, she heard the others shushing them by invoking her name. They were sure that she could handle a lone sorcerer. She hoped their confidence wasn’t misplaced. If Lucius turned hostile, she could literally die from that kind of embarrassment.
“Let him up, Brian, but stay close,” Keverin ordered. “I want you and Udall to guard him. The library, the armoury, and the stables are out of bounds.” He turned his attention back to Lucius. “I’m sure you understand why I can’t take the chance of this being a trick. Julia will keep you under constant watch. Don’t use your magic for anything. Brian will show you to your quarters.”
“Of course, my lord, I’ll try to be good. Come along, Brian. Let’s find me a nice comfy bed,” Lucius said, and marched toward the citadel. Brian muttered something and hurried to catch him.
She smiled at some of the things Brian said. “If he’s really under a death sentence, he might prove useful.”
“Perhaps,” Keverin said doubtfully. “But will he be more useful than dangerous? That I don’t know about. You should be with him, lady.”
Embarrassed to realise that she’d forgotten her promise already, she threw dignity to the wind, and dashed after Lucius. Moriz and Halbert lumbered in pursuit, cursing.
* * *
Part V
40 ~ Mirror
The days following the battle dragged slowly by for Julia. She spent most of her them exploring the town, or working out in the gym that Deneen had finally finished for her, but she was lonely for Jill. Even living within the fortress amid so many people, she felt lonely. Wasn’t that silly?
Of course it was.
She shouldn’t feel that way. Jessica and Mathius often spent time with her. Mathius was determined to teach her everything he knew about magic and his world. As the last of Keverin’s mages, he felt responsible for her. Just as Darius had been a mentor to him, he was determined to be hers. He was a dear friend, and she loved him for his kindness—Jessica too—but they couldn’t replace what she’d lost. They couldn’t replace an entire world, no one could.
When the pass remained empty of threat for an entire tenday, Keverin relaxed his restrictions. Moriz and Halbert no longer dogged her steps, and she missed their snark. The east gate was allowed to stay open from dawn to dusk, and she could visit the town whenever she wanted. All she had to do was borrow one of the guardsmen as her escort, and tell another to inform Marcus that she was going out. That was infinitely better than what she’d had to deal with before, but she felt... sad all the time. It was stupid and childish, but that was how she felt. She didn’t know how to make it stop.
“Is anything wrong?” Lucius said, as they made their way to Keverin’s study. “You’re very quiet.”
She shook her head. “I’m just not very good company right now.”
“Is it something I can help you with?”
“I don’t think so. I’m homesick.”
“Ah. It’s easy to forget that you weren’t born here. You have family back home?”
“It’s not that,” she said, as they stopped outside Keverin’s guarded door. “My parents died not long before I was brought here. I have no other family.”
“Friends?”
“Jill. She’s my best friend.”
“And you miss her.”
She nodded. “Very much. You’re a sorcerer—”
“I was.”
“Okay, you were a sorcerer. Do you know how to make a gate like the one Darius made?”
He shook his head. “The Great Spells were lost during the Time of Chaos.” At her uncomprehending look he explained. “Before Mortain arose to lead our people, Castle Black was ruled by a king—except Stelinor wasn’t really a king. He spoke for the council of mages. This was before even Hasa was conquered.
“It’s written that the first Mortain was a traitor to his kind. His son—Stelinor Al’Mortain—cast a Great Spell and led our people to this world. That time is called the Founding of the Black Isle now. We lived on the edge of extinction for years, fighting the climate, the native peoples we later displaced, and even some within our own ranks. Many Great Spells were cast to change the land, and the weather as well, until Black Isle became the paradise it is now.”
“But what has this to do with a way home for me?”
Lucius grimaced. “Stelinor was a very great mage. It’s said that many of his spells are handed in direct line to Mortain, may he live—” he broke off, realising the catechism wasn’t appropriate. “The Time of Chaos saw much of Stelinor’s work destroyed by fire in the fighting. Castle Black itself was damaged, and the Great Spells were lost with so much else.”
Her heart sank. “So no one knows how it’s done. How did Darius do it?”
“I don’t know. I would give much to ask him.”
“He’s dead.”
Lucius nodded. “Even so.”
There was no asking the dead anything. If Darius had learned how to make a gate, she could as well, but where had he learned it? She had to find out everything she could about him.
They entered the study.
Keverin was sitting at his desk, with Purcell and Gylaren on its other side. A chair had been placed between them for Lucius. The positioning was so obvious that she felt her face flame in embarrassment.
Lucius took in the scene with a rueful smile. “Thank you for inviting me, Lord Keverin,” he said.
“You’re welcome. Please take a seat,” Keverin said, pointing to the empty chair between his friends.
Lucius inclined his head to each of the lords and sat.
Keverin stood and escorted Julia to sit in his chair. He remained standing at her left shoulder, and slightly behind her. Seemingly without noticing what he was doing, he rested a hand on her shoulder. She shivered at his touch.
Lucius noticed, and raised an eyebrow.
“I expect you’re wondering why I asked you here,” Keverin said.
“I assumed you wanted to know when to expect another attack.”
“We already know about the legion coming through Camorin. What I need to know, is whether it’s safe to march and attack them on the border.”
“Why ask me? If I say it’s safe, surely you would believe otherwise?”
“Damn right we would,” Gylaren growled.
Lucius inclined his head to him. “Precisely. What if I say it’s not safe to leave?”
Gylaren grumbled under his breath, and
Lucius winked at her. She couldn’t help the grin that flashed upon her face, but she managed to smooth it away before Gylaren noticed it.
“Why not scry and see for yourselves?” Lucius said.
“We don’t know how,” she said, ignoring Purcell’s warning look.
Lucius already knew of her lack where mirrors were concerned. She’d been trying to weasel the method out of him for ages, but Keverin’s orders and Mathius’ enforcement of them, meant that he couldn’t use his magic. Mathius hadn’t progressed far enough in his studies yet to try it.
“I could use the glass for you now if you wish.”
“Why would you help us?” Keverin said. “I’ll be blunt—no one likes a traitor. If you help us, that’s precisely what you’ll be.”
Lucius’ smile turned grim. “A boy is stolen from his parents and sent to Castle Black. He’s forced to perform magic. If he fails he dies, if he argues back, he’s beaten, if he tries to escape he’s beaten to death. Then, late in life he manages to escape, and offers to work against his old masters. Is that person a traitor?”
“No of course not! Now you’re going to say that you’re that boy?” Gylaren said scornfully.
Lucius rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, and showed Gylaren his arm. It was ribbed with thick and heavy scars. He stood and pulled off his shirt. His back was covered in old scars.
“How did you keep from striking back?” she whispered in horror.
“That’s why they do it. Discipline, lady. It is, at bottom, what all magic is founded upon. A man can withstand any amount of pain, if the alternative is death. They taught me discipline.”
Discipline again. Mathius was always stressing the importance of it. His father had often beaten him, trying to impress upon him the risk he took every time he used his magic. Without discipline, mages risked premature ageing and eventual death.
