“Maybe they brought the priests in to keep the pass a secret, sir.”
Le Clerc shook his head, “I thought of that. It would still be a waste of priests. Granted, there are more of them than mages, but the war front extends for a hundred miles. Even if there were only ten priests who attacked us last night, that would be a significant drain on their local forces.”
Marko considered. “Then that means that they are either guarding or searching for something.”
“Yes, that was my conclusion an hour ago. I now believe that there is something around here that they want. Going back now would do a disservice to everyone we lost. We need to find out what Kastav is up to.”
Le Clerc stared at Marko for a moment. “I have a plan. I don’t think I could pull it off by myself, but with another mage, I think we can do it.”
“But sir. I am not a mage. Well, at least not a good one. I don’t really know anything.”
Le Clerc smiled. “Trained you may not be, but you are hardly ignorant. You have used magic to protect yourself and others. I don’t need an Imperial Inquisitor by my side for this, but I do need someone who can tap into their reserve and follow directions. Now listed to me, Marko. I am going to give you a crash course on the use of magic.”
Marko listened as Le Clerc explained the concepts of reserves and essence. There was no way he was going to admit to Le Clerc that some woman in a necklace had told him all of this already. In fact, Stranac actually had done a better job teaching him and seemed to have a deeper knowledge.
Still, the lecture had value to Marko because it was applied. Le Clerc took him through exercises where Marko produced small flames above his outstretched hand. He was even able to manipulate the flame into several different shapes.
“I know I cannot condense years of training into a morning, even if you seem to be a remarkable learner. What I need you to do is keep touching your reserve. My strongest manifestation is Transference. That is how I covered our tracks yesterday. It also allows me, among other things, to pull the essence from other mages. That is what I need to do with you. I need you to continually tap into your reserve so that I can add your reserve to mine. My plan is to track these priests. But to do so, I need to bend light around us so that we will be invisible. I want to be able to walk right up to them if necessary.”
Marko did not know how he felt about having another mage access his reserve. Stranac had warned him about depleting his reserve of essence. He would have no control if someone else was accessing it.
“In case you are worrying about me depleting your reserve, don’t. I will be able to sense it. Besides, I only need to tap a small, constant flow. You will be replenishing some of it at the same time.”
“Won’t the priests be able to sense us like I did them?”
“No. Remember, the priests use magic that is given to them via their amulets. The magic they can perform is limited. They won’t be able to see us any differently than a common soldier.”
They left the cave after another unappetizing meal. Le Clerc led him in a different direction but Marko could tell that they were looping back to the place of the ambush. About a quarter of a mile away, Le Clerc stopped his horse.
“This is where we dismount. I can hide us and our horses but not sounds. From here on out we walk. You will follow directly behind me. I want you to walk in my footsteps. If you have to cough or sneeze, don’t. Ok, here we go. Tap into your reserve.”
Marko saw a blue haze surround Le Clerc. A small thread of essence left his body and attached to Marko’s. He felt what seemed to be a small tug on his chest. It was not uncomfortable, just weird. The blue haze moved around his entire body. When it grew over his eyes, everything became shaded.
Le Clerc looked over his shoulder. “Follow me.”
They walked deliberately towards the trail where they had been ambushed. Marko almost screamed when he saw the bodies. The priests had not bothered to bury the fallen Night Eagles. Each body had been dragged in a line. It was apparent that they were searched as all their pockets were ripped. There was no sign of their mounts or weapons. Marko saw Le Clerc’s eyes become red. He leaned over to Marko and whispered, “No time to bury them now, we will come back for them.”
It was easy to find the priests’ trail. It seemed like they were not concerned given the success they had against two Night Owl squads. It was also hard to hide the evidence of the horses. There had to be at least a dozen given the amount of prints and scat.
The trail wound up a heavily wooded hill. About a hundred meters from the top, Marko smelled the easily recognizable aroma of cooked bacon. Le Clerc smelled it too because he stopped and studied the hill. He turned around and whispered to Marko, “The wind is coming hard off the hill from the west. I would like to approach the camp from the east but you can see a cliff all around the other sides. They have chosen a defensible spot. That leaves us no choice. I am going to try to get us close enough to hear what they are saying. Follow me.”
The two of them slowly crept up the hill trying to avoid the trail as much as possible. It was a difficult trek. The pine trees were very dry. Any misstep and they could easily crack a branch and alert the enemy. In several spots they had to stoop below low hanging branches.
They crawled up a small rise, only twenty feet away from voices. Marko peered over the dirt hill and saw several priests sitting around a fire. Behind them were five tents that had camouflaged of branches and leaves.
Marko tried to hear the conversation but the wind coming from behind him was too strong. He calmed himself and tried to concentrate. He felt the familiar feeling in his gut again. Could I use my essence to hear better?
Marko cupped his hands around his ears and concentrated. Slowly the voices seemed to become louder. The wind did too so it was not perfect. Still, he was beginning to make out words and then sentences.
“Why…so many of us anyway?” Said a young priest.
“If Bishop Solis thinks it’s in the ruins here, then who are you to question him? Do we need to send you through indoctrination again acolyte?”
“No, no. Sorry Deacon. It’s just that I thought the sword was a myth. Hey Tonsur! Didn’t you tell me that there were no confirmed reports of Vrhovni’s sword ever existing?”
Marko’s eyes drifted over to the priest the acolyte had yelled to. The priest was tall and had a shaved head. He had just walked into the camp with large dog on a leash. Before he could answer, the dog began to bark in Marko’s direction.
He looked at Le Clerc. “Crap! The dog smelled us!” he yelled.
The priests jumped up around the fire and began grabbing weapons.
Whoosh…
A large ball of fire left Le Clerc’s hand and launched at the nearest priest. He yelled as it hit him squarely in the chest. Another left Le Clerc’s hand as the priest named Tonsur let go of the leash holding the barking dog.
Before he could launch a third fireball, the dog jumped and knocked Le Clerk down to the ground. Marko saw the two roll away down the hill.
I have to do something! thought Marko.
The remaining priests started running towards him. A fireball would do nothing against so many. Marko pulled as much essence as he dared from his reserve and released fire from his outstretched hand. A cone of flame spread out in front of him igniting nearby trees and several priests. As they screamed, he could see another five or so come out of the tents.
He felt light-headed but he knew he needed to do more. Should he flee down the hill or stand and fight? Marko pulled his sword free and waited for the first priest to arrive. By then more trees caught fire creating a virtual wall of flames. Marko watched one by one as the wind made the fire jump from tree to tree towards the camp.
The remaining priests no longer ran towards Marko. They recognized the danger they were in. By building the camp with one entrance, they had blocked off their only escape. The flames were getting taller and the heat was becoming unbearable. Marko watched horrified as the priest backed up
to the edge of the cliff. He saw the fear and eventual resignation on their faces as they recognized their fate.
Before the fire could overtake them, the priests jumped off the cliff one by one. The acolyte whom Marko heard earlier was on his knees either crying or praying. He only jumped off when his robe began to catch fire.
Just then, Marko remembered Le Clerc. He turned around and ran down the hill. He did not have to go far. Le Clerc was sitting down propped up against a tree. The dog was next to him on its side, a long dagger in its chest.
In between heavy breaths, Le Clerk said, “Given the fact that you stopped and there is one hell of a fire up there, I assume we are safe. What happened?”
Marko did not know if he was ready to tell Le Clerc about the massive cone of fire he had created. “Well, I tried to send several fireballs into the priests. One got away and hit a tree. Luckily for me, it caused a chain reaction and forced the priests off the cliff.”
Le Clec began to laugh and then started coughing. “God is certainly on our side Marko. Well done. Now help me up. We need to get off this hill in case the wind changes.”
Chapter XXXII: Dual Allegiance
It took them over a mark to get to their horses. After walking them to a small stream, they saddled up and rode back towards their fallen comrades. Marko helped Le Clerc bury them in a shallow grave. On top they placed as many stones as they could find.
It was time to go home. Le Clerc took them on an indirect route. At one point, they actually rode towards the Umag Mountains. Le Clerc did not take any chances. Several times he used magic to cover their route from discovery.
Once they reached the plains, Marko started to relax. This area was firmly in the hands of the Emperor. They spent their evening in a small wooded depression along a creek. This gave them at least some cover from prying eyes. Marko took first shift. This time his sword was across his lap and his bow was within reach. Fortunately, the only thing he saw were a few rabbits and a raccoon.
Early the next morning, they ran across a small imperial patrol. The sergeant of the squad had ordered his men to aim their bows at them until he recognized their uniforms. Marko then saw his face turn from suspicion to disbelief as he took in their uniforms.
Le Clerc rode off a few yards with the sergeant, no doubt discussing the events of the past few days. Marko had his own story to tell as the remaining soldiers pestered him with questions. These soldiers were already on edge when they met. As Marko told his story, several of them gave each other nervous glances.
By early evening, they rode into Sibenik. They received more than a few curious glances from soldiers as they made their way to their compound. Throughout the journey back, Le Clerc was very quiet. Undoubtedly, he took the loss of the squad personally and considered it his fault.
He rode his horse to the stables and made sure the groom would take good care of him. His horse had served him well. Although sergeants did not rate their own horses, Marko would make sure to request that one again.
After washing up and putting on a fresh uniform, he made his way over to the commissary. Marko was looking forward to a hot meal and some ale. Few of the tables were occupied. That meant that most Night Eagles and soldiers were deployed around the outpost. He chose to sit by himself so that he could think about the past few days.
His solitude was short lived. Le Clerc put his tray down and sat across from Marko. “I am going to report to the Colonel after dinner Marko. I would like you to accompany me. He would request an audience from you anyway, so we might as well save him time.”
“Buy why wouldn’t he just accept your report sir? There is nothing I saw that you didn’t.”
“It’s not the events of the patrol he will interview you about. My report includes your discovery of magic. I am sure he will want to discuss your newfound talent.”
They continued their dinner discussing the events of their patrol and what the royal presence in that area might signify. After dinner, Le Clerc seemed to reluctantly get up and signal Marko to follow. They reached the colonel’s office and stopped in front where a sergeant was sitting at an old desk.
“Lieutenant Le Clerc here to report to Colonel Green.”
“One moment Lieutenant.” The man quickly got up and disappeared behind a large oak door. He returned promptly. “The Colonel will see you now.”
Le Clerc motioned Marko to a bench along the reception room wall. “Please wait here. I need to give him my report. I will come back for you.”
Marko sat down on the bench and took in his surroundings. For a reception room for a senior officer, it was sparse. There were no pictures on the walls and the paneling looked like it had never been oiled. The room he worked in at House Lazard was better furnished. Then again, everything at the House seemed to be better quality than anything in the army. Did that mean that the Emperor did not care about his troops’ comforts, or did not have the golds?
He thought he was forgotten when the door suddenly opened. Le Clerc waived him in without a word.
Marko walked in and saw Colonel Green sitting at his desk. He gave him a salute. “Welcome back, Sergeant. Please have a seat.”
“Yes sir.” He waited until Le Clerc sat down on the chair next to his. Marko appreciated the worn leather back chair. Obviously the Colonel like some comforts.
“Your Lieutenant has briefed me on the events of your patrol. My condolences on the loss of your Eagles. Even after a brief tenure with them, I am sure you lost friends.”
“Thank you, sir. I wish there was something I could have done. The attack came out of nowhere and all I could think of was escaping the arrows. I should have stayed and fought.”
“If you did, you would have died. In addition, we would not have any idea of what we were up against. The lieutenant told me about your discovery of magic. I will get to it in a moment. What I am most interested in now is what, if anything, you heard the priests say in their camp.”
Crap! He forgot to tell Le Clerc about the conversation.
“Well, sir. It was kinda hard to make it out. One of them said something about a sword and Vrhovni.”
Green looked at Marko for a moment and then Le Clerc. “Vrhoni’s sword? Are things so bad that the King has to chase after legends?”
“One of the priests seemed to agree with you sir. He was complaining about the mission.”
“Yes. Yes. Quite so. Listen, Marko. As much as I would like to have you here during the term of your impressment, the law is clear. Any citizen of the Empire that exhibits the smallest amount of magical talent is enrolled in Comte Universite. Your tenure here was brief, but I appreciate your service to the Empire, especially what you have done for my family.”
Marko gasped and looked at Le Clerc. “The mage’s university? Lieutenant, you never said anything about that?”
“I did not want to get ahead of myself. It is Colonel Green’s right to dismiss you from your obligation first. I am both a mage and a soldier and have to respect the rules of each profession. You Marko are now a mage and a merchant. Get used to dual allegiances.”
The Colonel got up and stepped around his desk. “On another topic, I talked to the Lieutenant about your service to us. You were selected to join the Eagles, albeit temporarily, to help us on scouting missions. You went far beyond that. You saved the life of one of my officers and assured that we would gain valuable intelligence of the enemy.”
Marko wondered where the Colonel was going to the conversation as he pulled a box from a nearby bookshelf. He opened the box and seemed to search for something in particular. “Normally we do this with a ceremony. I only have you for a few more hours, so you will have to excuse the brevity.”
The Colonel showed Marko a small brass pin in the shape of an Eagle’s head. Hanging from it was an even smaller Night Eagle insignia. He pinned it on Marko’s chest above his heart.
“This is an Order of Merit, Third Class for your bravery and performance on patrol. Congratulations. I don’t recall an impressed sold
ier ever earning a medal. Your name will be included in my weekly dispatch to Command. Good luck to you Marko.”
Chapter XXXIII: Sibenik
The next morning, Marko said his goodbyes to the Night Eagles at breakfast. Between talking about the mission and his discovery of magic, it took him over two marks before he could pry himself out of the commissary.
He spent the next mark packing and returning his uniform and kit to the quartermaster. It was strange wearing the House Lazard tunic again. He absently fingered the house badge he wore to signify his rank as a full clerk. This was the first time he had worn his tunic since he had received confirmation from Master Marcus that the House approved his recommendation.
The Reluctant Mage: Book One in the Zandar Series Page 18
