Bran picked up for him. “Its invasion and conquest of its neighboring peaceful realms.”
Hermes raised a brow at the Ulathan captain. “Rather tactless of you, but for lack of a better term, let us call it a rightful conquest.”
“How can anything of what you’re doing be called rightful?”
“It is really not that difficult a concept to grasp and accept once you get past the pride of your people,” Hermes began. “The Kesh have always ruled Agon, and only recently have our challenges allowed you and the other realms to usurp our authority in matters of governing.”
Bran shook his head. As usual, the Kesh not only lied but they seemed to embrace their falsehoods. “You should hear yourself, really. The pride and pompous lies not far from the accuser.”
Hermes mocked him. “You really should stay away from large words and leave the adult talk to your superiors. Your speech makes no sense neither in grammar nor in context. Have you not heard of schools or education in your realm?”
“We’ve heard of them all right. Haven’t you?” Bran retorted.
“It is like discussing mature matters with a child,” Hermes began.
Bran interrupted him. “Don’t you hear how your soldiers talk? It’s a travesty to the common tongue.”
Hermes took a moment to change his staff from one hand to another and use his predominate free hand to scratch his head through his pointed hat. “You obviously do not understand our society. The soldier caste is designed to be that way.”
“We would consider that to be a poor design, then,” Bran said, his tone softening, and he changed the subject quickly. “What do you want with me?”
“You mean other than your death?” Hermes asked.
Bran frowned, and then said, “Obviously, but I refer to why am I here now, on this tower, talking to you? I have only seen or talked to you in my quarters or in the courtyard. What do you want with me right now?”
“Ah yes, as usual, you Ulathans and sub realms have no talent with regards to etiquette and protocol,” Hermes began to explain. “There is an issue that you are aware of that could complicate matters if not taken care of properly. I desire to discuss this with you beforehand.”
“What would that be?” Bran asked.
“You are a smart man, learned in your craft from an early age,” the wizard began, contradicting what he had said only a moment before. “You must know that against the Northman, you have no chance for success. He will kill you, and how you depart this life may very well be your defining moment.”
“All right,” Bran said. “We’ll see who kills who.”
“Whom,” Hermes corrected.
“Whatever,” Bran said, turning away from the wizard and peering intently at the barbarian encampment far below. Even though it was barely past noon, they had campfires stoked, and the roaring of the flames could just be heard, as the noise carried on the wind, even from their vantage point.
“Will you not hear my proposition?”
Bran looked back at the man and nodded. “You seem intent on the fact that I’ll lose and die, so what difference does it make? Anyway, if it is that important to you, then go ahead.”
“I do know that you will lose; however, the danger is that you are a skilled swordsman yourself. You could score a lucky blow with your sword and wound the Northman, perhaps even disable him to the point where his services are compromised with regards to assisting Kesh.”
“Now that would be a shame,” Bran lied.
“Sarcasm has never suited you,” Hermes scolded the man.
“Proceed,” Bran said.
With a nod, Hermes continued. “There may be something more dear to you than your life, which I have no doubt you are willing to lay down for your king and country and . . . family.” At this, Bran narrowed his eyes and peered intently at the magic-user. “It is no secret that your family escaped. If they mean something to you, then with your cooperation, I can assure you that they will not be harmed or even imprisoned once we have captured them. If you refuse and something unwarranted happens to the Northman, then I will most assuredly promise you that they will die horrible deaths, even the little ones.”
“You’re a wicked and despicable man,” Bran said, vocalizing what he was thinking.
“I am sure you see it that way. You do not know your proper place in the world,” Hermes said, looking back to the barbarian camp. “Do we have a mutual understanding, then?”
Bran nodded, and then said, “We do. Pray for my death, because I will most certainly pray for yours.”
Without being dismissed, the Ulathan captain turned and headed for the stairwell. He had enough of this conversation and more than what he could take of the Kesh wizard. Hermes let him go, as well as any slight or offense intended for him. He was learning over the last few months, and while he wanted to smite the man down himself, he knew that Am-Tor would brook no failure when it came to securing the aid and assistance of the Northmen.
Hermes knew that his fate was now tied to the fate of the current High-Mage, and he would do all he could to ensure its success.
Chapter 16
Secret Roads
“Run,” Targon yelled at his companions and the entire group continued to head up the mountain draw.
“That parlay did not go as expected,” Khan said, his robe whipping around him as he sped on foot, keeping pace with the others.
They continued to run and dodge the huge boulders raining down around them with increasing accuracy. Targon raised his voice to be heard over the roar of a nearby troll, who rolled a rock downhill at them, barely missing Dorsun, who was still lagging due to his prior injury. It slowed the man, and Will was doing his best to assist him. “What in Agon did you say to them?”
Khan tried to shrug but couldn’t. His arms were pumping, and it was all he could do to keep a solid grip on his staff. Targon noted that no matter what a Kesh wizard was doing, their pointed tasseled hats always seemed to be secured to their heads with no intervention ever necessary on the part of the magic-user. With great effort, Khan said, “I thought I was negotiating our passage into the mountains.”
“Was the price for passage our blood?” Targon half jested. He veered slightly and headed for an outcropping of rock that could take them out of range of the flying boulders. The others followed him instinctively.
“Next time let’s have a woman do the negotiating,” Salina said, joining in with Targon.
Cedric seemed to have issue with the jesting. “This is not time for fun. Do you both not see the size of those boulders?”
Another one came into view, and Targon put his hand out to slow Marissa, who was faster than she looked. His other arm kept Khan at bay, and the troll who had thrown it was clever, leading them enough that had Targon not intervened, one of them would have been hit by the stone missile.
“This way,” Targon said, leading them to the outcropping and then pulling them around a large stone rock that was taller than three trolls were high. It was a rocky outcrop of the mountain that was intruding into the low lands, but it gave them cover for at least a moment.
Unfortunately, while the Kesh wizard was engaged with what was presumably the troll leader, at least a dozen trolls crested the northern ridgeline while a second dozen topped the top of the ridge to their south. They were outnumbered four to one, if Marissa was excluded, and the trolls had the high ground. It was a poor tactical situation to say the least, and their worst fears were realized when the trolls attacked as a group, nearly killing Khan first. Luckily, or by strategic design, Targon had slowly moved the group through a grouping of conifer trees from the west side to the east behind Khan and the lead troll. They weren’t exactly hidden, but they managed to bypass the worst of the troll ambush.
The group huddled together, and both Dorsun and Will were leaning over a bit and breathing heavily, trying to catch their breaths. Cedric and Salina were doing better, but both were panting as well. Only Targon, Marissa, and Khan seemed comfortable with the p
ace that they had run the last five minutes. This did not go unnoticed.
“What sorcery do you wield?” Will asked, trying to make the sign of warding but only half-heartedly attempting it, with the Kesh brigand chieftain hanging off one arm and a drawn sword in the other. He almost hit himself with the hilt of his sword when making the attempt.
Targon asked, “Are you dabbling in druid magic again?”
Khan nodded. “Stamina spell seems to be most interesting.”
“We see that,” Salina said, a tinge of envy in her voice. “What went wrong back there at the parlay? Maybe you should have tried a charisma spell, instead.”
“I do not know,” Khan said, shaking his head. “One minute, I was fairly certain they would yield to my demands, and the next they—”
“Whoa,” Salina said, “did you say yield to my demands?”
“What?” Khan asked.
“There’s no more time. We haven’t lost the trolls yet. One group is trying to flank us on the high ground north, and the other is moving around those trees beyond the nearest grove to the south. Time to move out.”
Khan closed his eyes and seemed to be in a magical trance as Dorsun and Will prepared to follow Targon. They would have to keep them close if they were to succeed in escaping the angry monsters.
“Can you hold them off for a few minutes while I lead the group further east?” Salina asked Targon.
“Yes,” Targon said, placing his axe back in his belt and removing his longbow and quickly nocking an arrow. “I’ll give them something to dodge for a minute at least.” The reference was in jest to their dodging of the rock boulders being used as missiles in the troll attack.
“Follow me,” Salina began, turning and then stopping as a shadow crossed in front of them. “Agon help us,” she said, making a sign of warding.
The companions stood in shock and awe as a fierce red dragon came into view, flying over them barely above treetop level and coming to rest just past them, placing the beast between them and the trolls. Cedric, Will, and Dorsun dove to the ground to avoid the dragon’s body, as it nearly crushed them with its near-miss landing. Targon rolled to the side and aimed his arrow at the dragon’s head.
The beast ignored them and roared a defiant challenge at the oncoming trolls who were now more heard than seen. Two rocks came at the dragon and missed, and then the dragon roared again and fire spewed from its mouth into the air. Troll curses were heard in their foreign tongue, and the sounds of retreating feet diminished as the enemy departed, giving up the combat.
The dragon stood for a moment longer, scratching the ground, and then it roared again for effect. Since they were behind the beast now, they took a moment to look at it in closer detail, and Cedric was the first to vocalize the problem. “I thought dragons had tails.”
They all looked, and he was right. This dragon had no tail, not even a stub, and its wings looked small for a beast as large as a barn. Then they were shocked as the dragon turned to face them and said, “Dragons do have tails.”
“Well, you don’t,” Will said, holding his sword out at the demon.
“I do not have a tail?” the dragon asked in a too familiar voice as it tried to look behind its massive body.
Targon chimed in. “There was no heat to the fire, either.”
“Dear me,” the dragon said. “I guess there is room for improvement, then.”
“Excuse me,” Salina said, looking from the dragon to Khan, who remained against the rock wall as if frozen. His staff glowed a bright blue that was lost in the bright sunlight overhead. “Mind telling us how you did it?”
Khan opened his eyes, sighed, and relaxed, allowing his staff to release its energy, and in turn, the dragon sighed, glimmered, and then faded away. “How did you know?” Khan asked.
“Well, for one thing, both the dragon and you spoke in the same voice. That gave the illusion away for sure,” Targon explained.
“There was no tail as well,” Cedric criticized. “That was also a large clue that this was no real dragon.”
“I suppose you have seen a real dragon to compare it to?” Khan asked Cedric, though he looked at the entire group to see if anyone else would challenge his version of a dragon.
Cedric looked surprised. “Well, of course not. No one has ever seen a dragon before.”
“Not true,” Targon said.
“We do not doubt your word, Master Ranger, but since you have seen a dragon, how was my illusion compared to the real thing?” Khan asked.
All eyes turned to Targon, and he shrugged. “Honestly, Cedric is correct. There should have been a tail, a very large and long tail.”
“How long?” Khan asked.
“As long as the dragon’s body,” Targon said. “Oh, and there should be heat from any fire the size of a bonfire. I felt nothing.”
“Do dragons speak?” Salina asked.
“Well, if they do,” Cedric said, “I’m pretty sure they don’t do it with a Kesh wizard’s accent.”
“What accent?” Khan asked. “I speak perfectly normal.”
“Actually, while no one else has noticed, it seems to me that you’re unable to make a contraction,” Cedric said.
“What’s a contraction?” Will asked.
“Yes, what is it?” Dorsun added.
Khan looked intently at the young man, saying, “Clever boy.”
Cedric ignored him. “Say one, then, say just one.”
“I will not say anything,” Khan said, moving from the wall and starting to head east. He looked at Targon and asked, “Are we leaving or staying?”
“There you go,” Cedric said, pointing a finger at Khan. “Say I won’t just once.”
“I will not,” Khan said, and then he turned his back and started east toward the mountains.
“What is that all about?” Salina asked Cedric, and she gave Targon a glance.
“His accent,” Cedric said triumphantly. “The Kesh do have one, or at least Khan does.”
Targon motioned for the others to follow, and he leaped out after the rogue wizard, catching up to him in several long strides. “Don’t worry about what I or the others said. That was actually quite brilliant.”
Khan allowed a smile to cross his face. “I did forget a tail, though that would be the best part of a dragon to miss if it were attacking an enemy.”
“It appears to have worked. The trolls retreated,” Targon noted.
“Yes,” Khan said, moving way quicker than he normally could, as his stamina spell would last for some hours. “They are not as clever as you and the lad.”
“Don’t let him hear you say lad,” Targon warned.
“That is between us,” Khan said, keeping his eyes forward and his pace quick. Normally Targon would lead the group, but the magic-user seemed to know where he was going. “I will have to work on the fire part of the illusion. I have not yet mastered the art of combining physics, mechanics of motion, and sensory imprinting at the same time.”
“Could have fooled me,” Targon said with admiration.
Khan nodded. “That is not what you want to ask me.”
“It isn’t?”
“No, you want to know where I am leading us to.” Khan kept his pace a quick one, and both Cedric and Salina were trotting occasionally to keep up.
“Go ahead,” Targon urged. “Where are we going to?”
Khan allowed another grin, and then said, “The troll was dumb enough to give me the location of the entrance to the ancient underground city. He was rather a bit too precise in his directions, but he let slip one thing that is assisting me.”
“That is?” Targon asked.
“The brute mentioned the magical lock and the nature of the arcane that sealed it. I am using that power as a beacon of sorts, with my staff pulling me toward it.”
Targon smiled as well. “This is good news, indeed. You lead us there, then, and I’ll bring up the rear guard, but one small request first.”
“Of course,” Khan said, keeping his e
yes on the ground a few yards in front of his feet.
“Slow your pace enough for the others to keep up.”
Khan stopped abruptly and then turned to see Dorsun and Will bringing up the rear a good two dozen yards back. With a shake of his head, Khan said, “Silly me.”
The journey took them longer than expected. They reached the base of a large flat mountain, while the surrounding countryside was hilly and crossed with ridges. The Border Mountains to their north still had snowcaps on the highest peaks despite spring and summer having passed, a testament to their rarified altitude.
The gate or door wasn’t visible at first. The flat ground also did not look like a road or a path. The original path they were following turned out to be used by wild game and trolls, perhaps, and it veered north while Khan led them due east. The flat floor of the ground where they stood cradled between two large spurs of a mountain peak was covered in wild grass that came to their knees. It was almost impossible to see the ground below, but the smoothness of the ground surrounded by the rocky outcroppings was a definite clue that perhaps an ancient road once existed beneath their very feet.
After some time, when the sun was about to set, they decided to camp for the evening despite their encounter with the trolls. Khan was not sure how to open the door when several spells failed initially. It appeared that the door or gate was sealed much stronger and in a cleverer way than initially thought.
The group was tired from their encounter, as well as the last few days of travel, and they were ready to take a break. They sat around what should have been a fire pit and waited for the twin sisters to rise. From dusk to sister rise was superstitiously known as the fool’s hour, even though it took more than a single hour for the twin moons to rise. It was a more dangerous time to travel, as the starlight was barely enough to illuminate the ground properly. From sister set to sunrise was known as the witching hour, when dark magics and pagan rituals occurred. By then, most sane and civilized folks were tucked safely in bed and asleep, if they had any sense.
Mad Mage: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 3 (Ranger Series) Page 22
