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Empire Awakening (Maledorian Chronicles Book 2)

Page 17

by John Forrester


  “The wind told me you girls were about to do something foolish. Were you?”

  “No, we thought better of it.” Elendria glanced at Lysha.

  “Hmm, I suppose that is a positive start. But it remains to be seen how much you’ll be able to learn.” Hadara pursed her lips and studied Lysha then turned her inspection to Elendria. Magic oozed off the old witch in waves. “Why did you leave the village?”

  Lysha was about to speak when Elendria interrupted her. “We were looking for the mines. Lysha needs a firestone.”

  “Hah, that would have been a mistake. It’s a good thing I’m keeping a close eye on you two.” The witch glanced up as a crow cawed loudly. “If you need a firestone, why didn’t you simply ask? I presume this means you are an ice witch or an ice magician, as you likely call yourself?”

  “Yes, I am.” Lysha looked defiant as she faced Hadara.

  “There is a good reason we had you stay and wait for your friend to wake. You will be studying under my tutelage, as well; that is, if you prove yourself worthy.”

  “Worthy? I’m a member of one of the oldest magical guilds in Criswall. I think that more than qualifies me as worthy.”

  “What I think and what you think are two entirely different universes. I am the one deciding whether you remain as a young whelp and a novice magician or progress to become my apprentice. Do I make myself clear?”

  Lysha looked like she’d be slapped. But the girl recovered and nodded in submission.

  “Good, you are learning like your friend,” Hadara said. Then she changed her demeanor as if she had something important to say. “I have news from Madam Lassengre. She won’t be able to join us. It seems the Maledorian cultists have built an army of magical constructs and have marched all the way to the heart of Maren Downs. Dour news, indeed. She will be joining Arcturius and Prince Jondran in the hopes of securing an alliance with the Kingdom of Jalinfaer. But knowing the old, crafty witch Cambria, I wonder whether they’ll be able to succeed in gaining her trust.”

  If the cultists were that far into Maren Downs, then Elendria knew her father was also there. Was he the one behind building those magical constructions? She had a hard time visualizing how they looked. Something hideous, she imagined. But whatever it was, it couldn’t be good news.

  Prince Jondran and the armies of Mar Thagroth were in grave trouble.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  If these were the idiots leading their forces against the Kingdom of Mar Thagroth, then the witch Cambria worried about the future of Jalinfaer. How could so many bad decisions be made by so many supposedly competent and intelligent men? These were not the soldiers on the ground, but their leaders: the nobility and the highest-ranking men in the army.

  Well, men was the distinguishing word here. They were too impatient, impulsive, and reactive. How many years had been fought in what was effectively an endless series of skirmishes on the northern front? Some territory won, some territory lost. Some soldiers on their side slaughtered, some enemies killed. But in truth, what had they gained? Nothing, from her perspective. Why couldn’t they put a woman in charge? Someone like her, she mused. The messy situation would be resolved quickly, she believed.

  Someone opened the flap of her tent. She narrowed her eyes but motioned for the bulky officer to enter. Another idiot leader to deal with, another man to chastise.

  “What do you have to report?”

  The soldier cleared his throat and mumbled some words. Who trained these idiots?

  “Speak up!” she shouted, irritated now. She’d been at this all day and had forgotten to eat. Where was Jalia with the food? Did the woman run into the forest and hunt something? Cambria’s stomach grumbled and complained.

  “I have come,” said the officer in a clear, commanding voice. “To report of a peace offer by the Kingdom of Mar Thagroth. Their leaders wish to end the bloodshed.”

  Cambria looked up and frowned. Who was this man and why was he babbling? A peace offer? Ridiculous. She studied him more carefully. He was a young man with a regal bearing and a strange accent. And those blue eyes… he was not from the south. He spoke Sarthian, like a diplomat, not a soldier.

  His words… There was something odd about his words. She sniffed and smelled magic all of a sudden. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Of course, she’d been distracted. Her scalp shivered in alarm. Was he an assassin? She focused, ready for a fight.

  “I’ve not come here to harm you. I come in peace. I assure you.” The young officer raised his hands, but that concerned Cambria even more. Was he a magician? She sensed magic—a spell perhaps—but she didn’t sense that he was magical.

  “Who are you and how did you get in here? You’re not from Jalinfaer, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. But—”

  “Are you a spy? You’re wearing the uniform of an officer third rank from Jalinfaer. Are you?”

  “I am most certainly not a spy. As I told you, I’m here to discuss an offer of peace from the Kingdom of Mar Thagroth. And I alone am fully authorized to make such an offer of peace.”

  “You’re a member of the royalty? A prince, perhaps? Are you—”

  “I am Prince Jondran Damensar, acting regent of Mar Thagroth.”

  “Really?” She narrowed her eyes at him, curious now. Was he indeed the prince? And why was he so desperate as to come all the way here to the heart of their enemy camp? He was putting himself and his kingdom at a significant risk. She also wondered how the prince had managed to get through their defenses undetected.

  “Who has aided you? I find it impossible that you passed so many guards to get in here.”

  “While waiting outside, I was instructed by a general to go in and get a note from you intended for the general of the fourth division.”

  “Ah, so you are lucky; providence is with you. And that explains how you got into my tent. But how did you find my tent in the first place? Go ahead. You may sit.”

  The prince sat on the chair opposite her desk. “We made friends and ate stew with a group of soldiers. One of them told us they’d seen you here.”

  Cambria shook her head, concerned. It was true, she and her allies had been too obvious. If he had been an assassin, this whole encounter would have gone differently. She had to be more careful and less conspicuous.

  “Wait, you said we. How did you get past the outer guard patrols? They challenge anyone with a question that changes frequently. Merely possessing a uniform or torturing one of our soldiers wouldn’t have yielded you that.”

  “Arcturius cast a spell of invisibility over both of us.”

  Her mouth went dry, stunned. The old wizard was here? She stood, fuming at the thought of him being close. Her hair looked terrible, and her clothes were hideous. She hadn’t even cast charms or spells to enhance her appearance.

  “Where is he?” she blurted out, surprised by her outburst.

  “He’s waiting outside. Do you want me to invite him in?”

  “No!” she shouted and clapped her hands to her mouth. Seeing the old fool in her dream was bad enough. But to allow him in here, looking like this? Compose yourself, Cambria. He’s not some snake about to bite you.

  He was worse than that, she told herself, and she gulped in a breath of air.

  “Are you okay?” The prince looked genuinely concerned. “We came with peaceful intentions. Arcturius doesn’t need to come inside if you don’t want to see him. He told me you were angry at him for some reason.”

  What was she doing losing her composure like this? The prince probably thought she was going mad. He’d come—at incredible risk to himself—to negotiate a peace treaty. She should seriously consider his proposal.

  She took a deep breath and centered herself. “Why do you want peace, Prince Jondran?”

  “I’ve tried for days to open peace discussions with your leaders but to no avail. The world is in a precarious position, and we risk the survival of both our civilizations. There is a clear and immediate threat facing both of u
s. Without peace, we’ll be defeated by the Maledorian cultists and their army. I know it sounds strange, and you’re probably thinking I’m crazy but hear me out. I saw the cultists with my own eyes. I fought them while trying to help a friend. I was there when they cast the spell that summoned a demon into the body of a boy. His name was Remi.”

  “And who was the person who cast this spell?” Was the boy as insane as Arcturius? Or was he telling the truth?

  “Lord Rigar Orensal, originally from Maren Downs. He came north and allied himself with the Duke of Wrainton.”

  Wrainton? That fool was always scheming and up to no good. If anything evil had happened in Criswall, then he was likely connected to it. The man was a slimy eel.

  “And what is the nature of this threat? Spare no details.”

  So, he told her the story, about the magical constructs the scout had spotted and about that night in the Ravenswood Library. After he finished, she leaned back in her chair and released a sharp exhalation. Though she didn’t yet believe these cultists had successfully summoned Ba’al—the ancient Maledorian fertility god, she did believe they were dangerous, especially if they had figured out how to form the constructs written about in legends. Though Cambria knew how to summon elemental minions, she knew of no one who possessed the ability to merge different living creatures and form a new species.

  He told her how Madam Lassengre had been a spy in Criswall.

  “I know of this witch. She is very powerful. And you say she has seen first-hand these cultists as they have been building this army?”

  The prince nodded. “She would not lie, not about something like this.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “On her way here. She would have arrived sooner, but the cultists and their army were too fast, and she had to remain hidden until they passed.”

  “And you say this army is heading east into the forests of Maren Downs?” Where the old capital lies, asleep, she told herself, frowning. This might even be worse than Arcturius knew. Only Cambria understood what was buried inside those old ruins, though even her knowledge was sparse. Regardless, the things there were better left to remain hidden forever. But how could the cultists know where to look? Unless they had succeeded in summoning Ba’al—which she believed impossible—or possibly a fragment of the ancient god.

  “Yes.” The prince studied her with shrewd eyes. “I expect you will want proof, am I correct? If you were to see that army of constructs with your own eyes, would that be reason enough for you to consider an alliance? Albeit, a temporary one, considering the mutual threat.”

  Cambria bobbed her head in assent. “Show me this army, and we will discuss terms for a truce.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “No, that is still not the correct way to hold your hands.” Hadara gave Lysha an irritated sigh. “How many times do I have to show you? It’s no wonder you progressed little in the schools of magic outside of ice. What did they do, lock you away with some old grandmaster?”

  Lysha looked down in embarrassment. “They told me I would specialize in ice magic.”

  “Nonsense. They simply didn’t know what to do with you.” Hadara tapped her fingers against her head, thoughtful. “You likely had lazy instructors early on, and you developed bad habits. That’s my conclusion. Well, we’ll cure you of those improper techniques. I guarantee you that.”

  So Elendria and Lysha spent another hour holding their hands and fingers in precise positions while casting various spells. It was a joy for Elendria, to learn this new method of casting spells. Other than her brief period studying under Madam Lassengre, she never had a proper magical tutor. Elendria noticed a vast improvement in the power of the spells and a diminishment in the drain the spells had on her energy. Usually, after casting spells for such a lengthy period, she would have been utterly exhausted.

  As the last rays of afternoon sunlight knifed through the forest, Hadara once again inspected their techniques. She grunted in approval at Elendria’s hand and finger positions but clicked her tongue at several of Lysha’s mistakes.

  “You’ve improved, child,” said the witch to Lysha. “Don’t feel depressed. Have hope that you can now successfully cast several spells other than ice. But you still need to work on your hand positioning. Keep at it, and you’ll soon be able to progress to more advanced techniques.”

  Lysha bowed her head in thanks to the witch. She was learning, and Elendria could tell by the look of pride on her friend’s face that she was pleased with the results.

  Hadara turned her gaze to Elendria. “You have a marvelous power, child, and a wonderful technique. It looks like I underestimated you. Show me that stone again.”

  Elendria handed the black stone to the witch, feeling nervous at letting it go. Hadara rotated the dull stone, inspecting the copper deposits.

  “’Tis a strange thing why you were so attracted to this stone. A very strange thing, indeed. Why did you pick it?”

  Elendria thought back to her time in the class, where she’d first caught sight of the stone. “A kind of wild craze took hold of me. I had to possess it. And when I first held the stone, I saw an explosion of stars. Since then, I’ve never let it out of my sight.”

  “Hmm, perhaps I’ve approached your training in the wrong way. You see, this is what they call an Emperor Stone, though in your case, perhaps an Empress Stone.” She clucked in amusement. “The vast majority of pupils would never respond positively to this stone. In fact, they would resist it or even unconsciously leave it in some forgotten place, hoping never to see it again. With you, however, the stone compliments and massively amplifies your power.

  “However, if you plan on possessing the stolen stone for a long time, you must also gain a firestone, like your friend. The Emperor Stone you hold is of cold power, of dark power. I’m surprised you were able to cast spells of both fire and ice successfully during extended combat. Usually, that requires two stones. That shows you possess a worrisome talent for casting spells. Once you gain a firestone in the mines, you will notice an even greater improvement in your magical prowess.”

  “What about me?” said Lysha, her small face crinkled in confusion.

  A reassuring smile came to the witch. “We will find a firestone for you as well, do not fear. For now, only one stone will be needed. If, at some point, in time you greatly improve your spellcasting ability for spells of fire and other non-ice spells, then you will need to undertake a quest of gaining a cold stone, though I doubt an Emperor’s Stone will ever match your energetic makeup.”

  “I heard from Madam Lassengre,” said Elendria, “that there are methods of drawing power from crystals, charms, and magical artifacts. She even said there were ways to draw power from demons, animal spirits, and nether creatures. How does one go about learning that?”

  The witch pursed her lips. “She should not have mentioned such things. Her words have inspired an unhealthy curiosity in your heart. She and I are of a different mind in this matter. Don’t frown at me like that. I will whet your appetite a little.

  “Crystals and charms are natural, to a witch, though you must make your charm using your spells, and you must find your crystals like you must find your firestone. Magical artifacts are dangerous, especially ancient ones found in the Maledorian ruins. They will twist your mind and wreck your soul. Other ancient ruins possess artifacts more suitable for modern spellcasters.

  “Animal spirits can be gained through your bond with a wild animal. This is a long process and connected with druidic magic. It is not for most magicians, though it is something you must learn in finding a familiar. We witches usually choose a crow, though some prefer owls or falcons. Flying creatures gain you much insight, though I suppose farseeing spells can get you the same thing. The choice of a familiar is up to you.”

  “What about a dragon?” Elendria said, remembering legends of the dragons far to the north on the ice islands beyond the Great Barrier Mountains.

  Hadara stared at her with appraising, susp
icious eyes. “You will not speak of such things with me, though another may cross your path with the answers you seek.”

  Elendria waited for the witch to continue but found herself disappointed. Why was she being so mysterious and strange? But she wondered whether a dragon could ever be a familiar. Such a magical and powerful creature certainly had to be something far greater. Could such a beast ever be tamed or aligned to one’s will?

  “What about nether creatures and demons?” Lysha said.

  The witch looked taken aback by her question. “I would not have expected you, of all people, to be interested in such things. You seem like a proper lady and unused to such forbidden topics. But I will answer your question. Demons are dangerous and soul-consuming. Only the most powerful sorcerers and sorceresses possess the ability to harness their power, though the cost is great, and the risk is enormous. And nether creatures require a visit to the netherworld. A dangerous and unwise journey. The witches in the south, under Cambria, know of such abilities. We are not tempted by that place, and neither should you.”

  Lysha looked unsatisfied but nodded her head in submission. “Why were we taught that casting from two schools of magic was heresy? It was a core doctrine of our faith, and I thought it heresy to conceive of ever casting a spell outside my school of magic.”

  “Don’t you know this truth, yet? Of course, it was because of fear. The wizards and witches from the Maledorian Empire were notorious because they possessed the ability to switch spells depending on their need. But knowing and practicing such abilities doesn’t mean one is a Maledorian. Other empires, both ancient and new, know of this. Even some from the Kingdom of Jalinfaer exploit this talent to their advantage, especially against wizards and witches of Mar Thagroth. And there are wizards in Criswall who have mastered this, for instance, those who belong to the Order of the Shadows.”

  “It’s hard for me to get used to it; that’s all.” Lysha looked embarrassed at her admission.

 

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