Revolution: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Rise of Magic Book 4)

by CM Raymond

  Hannah grinned. “Not exactly sure he had a choice.”

  He shot her a crooked grin and finished the drink.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Gregory could feel the warmth of his own breath on his face as the burlap bag covered his head. Roots and rocks grabbed at his feet, and more than once, the druid holding his bound arms kept him from falling.

  So much for Ezekiel’s kind, forest friends, he thought as they guided him through the woods.

  Word about Adrien’s devilish behavior in Arcadia had spread far, even through the thick undergrowth of the Dark Forest. Caution was a virtue, but Gregory considered their extent of hiding their whereabouts a little over the top since they were walking through the most mysterious place in all of Irth in the middle of the night.

  Regardless, he tried to remind himself that Ezekiel knew what he was doing.

  After a while, Gregory was certain they had made a huge circle in the forest and restepped their paces at least once. The druids were sparing no expense in concealing their location. Finally, they stopped, and the sack was pulled from his head. He was grateful for the cold night air as it struck his face.

  As his eyes refocused, it became clear that he and Ezekiel stood on the edge of a circle of twelve men and women. All of them were dressed like Elysia, the woman they had encountered in the woods, but they were of all ages.

  They sat in elaborate, wooden chairs, spun out of saplings that grew from the ground, each one gladly serving the druid who situated themselves in their embrace. Most of the men and women had animals sitting next to them, of varying sizes and colors—many were creatures Gregory had never seen before.

  All their eyes were green and securely fastened on Ezekiel. It was as if Gregory himself wasn’t there. Directly across from them was a large round man with a thick beard and narrow eyes, which seemed mismatched to the broad grin that was pasted across his face. To his right sat a large sleeping bear with graying fur. Elysia sat on his left.

  “Ah! Ezekiel, forgive us for such technical maneuverings, but I am sure you can understand our predicament. Our emissaries have carried word to us about what happened in your Arcadia, and we had to be cautious,” the old man said, almost laughing.

  Ezekiel stood straight, his face lacking any emotion. With a nod, he said, “The politician in me wants to brush aside your apology, Alexander, but we have known each other for most of our lives. We’ve stood together through much since the day you left Arcadia. To say that a bag over my head isn’t an affront would be a lie.”

  Gregory felt his cheeks flush, and he wondered if Ezekiel was really just a damned fool, or if there was a good reason for him to stand up against the man who must be the master of the druids.

  The man’s smile remained but melted, if only a little. “Yes. Yes, we have. But it is your schoolboy who’s causing so much trouble in Arcadia. It is you who put your trust in him—not I. The druids have not thrived for this long without taking care to protect ourselves. And no one calls me by that name anymore—I am the Chieftain now.”

  Finally, Ezekiel’s face softened. “You have thrived, Chieftain. As have our brothers and sisters in the Heights, but even they accepted me with open arms.”

  “Let me open them now.” He waved at the chairs situated behind the newcomers. “Please, take a seat. Have a drink—and something to eat for you and your companion.”

  For the first time, the Chieftain’s eyes and all that sat in the circle turned to Gregory. He pushed his hand through his kinky, dark hair and suffered a smile.

  As they sat, two attendants emerged from the thicket behind them, each carrying a tray with a wooden goblet and steaming vegetables. The smell of the produce, clearly roasted with plenty of garlic, struck Gregory’s nose, and the growl in his stomach told him that he was hungry again.

  His attendant was a trim girl—like a sapling—with light green, almond-shaped eyes, and ears that were slightly pointed, almost foxlike. She couldn’t have been more than a year or two his younger. As she placed the tray across his lap, she gave him a gentle smile and whispered, “Welcome to our home, traveler.”

  Her beauty struck him, and Gregory felt his throat tighten as he tried to talk. Among all the things he was good at, there were two areas in which he was always a miserable failure: magic and women. He settled for a simple nod, and she chuckled in reply as she backed away into the darkness of the shadows.

  Sniffing the contents of the cup, he noticed its bouquet was curious. Full and sweet, like the ale of the mystics, but the smell of the druid’s ale was different, like nothing he had ever smelled before. It had hints of something he couldn’t place—a wildflower he remembered from his childhood, perhaps.

  Sipping it, he realized the beauty of its aroma paled in comparison to its sweet taste and complex contours. Instantly, he felt his strength come back to him.

  Ezekiel ignored the tray on his own lap, which was a surprise to Gregory. The man never missed an opportunity to eat and drink.

  “Thank you for the hospitality, Chieftain.” He nodded at the tray on his lap. “Even if it is somewhat delayed. Since the early days, I have respected you. You have led your people well and have built quite a home here among the trees, though I must say, you had quite a home back in Arcadia.”

  The large man nodded. “I know that, Ezekiel. You were always so committed to that foul city—unreasonably so, in my mind. And you haven’t visited the Forest in quite some time. I don’t expect you would truly understand us and our ways, even with the years you spent in our fellowship.”

  Ezekiel pulled out his pipe and lit it, drawing deep. His eyes never left the man in the middle of the circle. “I was just telling my friend here about your departure, the way you and the others left, just as we were starting to make things happen in Arcadia.” Ezekiel laughed, and smoke seeped out his nostrils. “Maybe if some of our best hadn’t left… Perhaps this would have never happened.”

  The old druid leaned in, placing his elbows on his knees. “Maybe if you had never left… Adrien wouldn’t have become such a problem. As for me and my people, we don’t belong behind walls. The same is true for Selah and his mystics. Our blood is different.”

  Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed. “That’s where you’re wrong. Our blood is all the same in the life it sustains and the power it holds. Choices are what make us different, and you made yours that lifetime ago.”

  “And Adrien made his. I cannot be blamed for that.” He leaned back and crossed his arms and stared intently at Ezekiel, before suddenly looking straight at Gregory. “Excuse my rudeness, son. Who are you?”

  “Gregory,” he croaked.

  “Nice to meet you, Gregory. And how is it that you have joined Ezekiel’s little crusade?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno. Kind of fell into it.”

  The large man shook his head. “Seeds fall where they may, but a skilled gardener knows how to shape a tree to where it is best suited...” As the Chieftain spoke, a young tree by his side began to twist and curl, like a spiral staircase ascending into the canopy. “Or to where it best suits the gardener. And I’ve known the Founder here long enough to recognize his handiwork. No, you fell into nothing, Gregory. You’ve been shaped by this man’s choices as much as you have your own.”

  Gregory listened to the old man, trying to read the assumptions in his words. He may have been all smiles, but behind his soft exterior lay an oaken core.

  “Leave him be,” Ezekiel interjected.

  The man held up his hand to the wizard. “I’m afraid you don’t command us, Ezekiel—not anymore.” The Chieftain’s eyes never left Gregory’s. “Now, why are you here?”

  Feeling the sweat bead up on his forehead, Gregory exhaled and moved to take a drink from the goblet, hoping it would settle his nerves. The cup shook in his hand so vigorously, ale nearly spilled out onto his lap. He gave up and lowered it to the tray.

  “I met a girl, a magician. She was new to Arcadia. Came with…” He motioned to Ezekiel. “They took me in, I
guess.”

  “Took you in?” He smiled. “You must be one hell of a magician to be recruited by the Founder and his new student.”

  Gregory shook his head. “No, sir. Quite the opposite. But… I’m good with magitech… with machines.”

  Light danced in the Chieftain’s eyes. “Is that right? Where did you learn that?”

  “My father. He is… was the chief engineer.”

  “So, he was the one who designed the airship then?”

  Gregory’s eyes hit the ground. The druid knew more than he had expected. His stomach turned over, and he thought he was going to be sick.

  “Damn it, Alexander. Leave the boy alone,” Ezekiel shouted.

  “You asked for my audience, friend. And I will comply. But as I said, we druids must take caution. I know why you’re truly here, I know the danger that you’ve come to warn us about. But I need to know why you decided to bring this Arcadian into my woods—especially when his own blood has built the very weapon that now threatens us.”

  Gregory glanced at Ezekiel. For a moment, he imagined the old man’s eyes turning red right before unleashing the furious magic of the gods on the druid. But instead, he gave him a gentle nod. Moments like these are what they had talked about. Gregory’s role was small, but it was faithfulness in the small things that could win wars.

  “Yes,” Gregory continued. “My father designed it. He built it. He destroyed lives to power it—and he tried to destroy me. All for the sake of his weapon.”

  The druid’s smile faded. He looked around at the rest of the council sitting in the circle, his gaze stopping on Gregory once again. “I’m sorry to hear that. Family is more important than anything… To harm your kin, that is truly a crime against the gods. But it’s a godlessness that could have been foreseen if only some had the eyes to see it. Arcadia has always bred sin.

  “I could smell the lust for power in the air even then. Building a city for so many, cutting yourself off from nature, can do such a thing—it can turn good people bad. It can turn a father against his son. That’s how it was in the days before Madness, and that’s how it is now. Which is why we left. We have lived here in peace ever since we left Arcadia. A world in which a man would sacrifice his son to the work of a madman is no world for us. Not then, not now, not ever. And as soon as Adrien began building his infernal machines, that’s when we closed our borders for good.”

  Gregory imagined the crazed look in his father’s eyes as he strapped his only child to the machine—draining his life to power Adrien’s warship. The world spun as he realized that the druid was, in many ways, right. His face grew ashen, and the old druid turned toward Ezekiel.

  “But that’s precisely the world you would plunge us back into, Ezekiel,” The Chieftain’s words hung in the air.

  Ezekiel reached over and squeezed Gregory’s arm, though he knew it would bring little comfort. Then he turned to the druid leader and his council. “That is exactly the world I would have you come back into. How could someone who oversees a place as beautiful as this, consign the rest of the world to burn? With your help, maybe the Arcadian Valley could thrive once again. But first, we need to pull out the weeds. Our revolution is not large, a few hundred souls is all. If we are to defeat the scoundrel, it is going to take more hands and wits than our own. I need you, Alexander. Your city needs you.”

  “Your war is not our war, Ezekiel. And your city is not my city. I made that clear decades ago.”

  Ezekiel stood, and the druids sat up straight, as if wary that Ezekiel would suddenly attack. Apparently, they were as afraid of the Founder as Gregory was. He noticed the young woman that had served him leaned forward. She was listening intently to Ezekiel’s words, but she also seemed ready to fight, if it would come to that. Gregory looked around at the many weapons—and the men and women that held them—and prayed to the Patriarch that Ezekiel wouldn’t let that happen.

  “Your city or not, if we fail, the war will be yours. Adrien won’t let any threat to his power stand. He’d torch your forest—and he has the power to do it.”

  Anger flashed in the Chieftain’s eyes, and the sleeping bear at his side stirred for the first time since they had arrived. Gregory thought the creature would rise, but the furry animal simply yawned wide and kept on sleeping.

  The Chieftain looked down at the bear, patted its shoulders and exhaled deeply. He glanced to Elysia, who sat at his left hand. Her lips were pursed. She shook her head.

  “No, Ezekiel. We cannot. The Forest is our home, and we will not leave it willingly—not to take part in another one of your mad schemes. Arcadia must pay for its own crimes. And if Adrien is foolish enough to bring his war machines here—he’ll find that deeply rooted trees are not easily torn down. I am sorry. You didn’t heed my warnings a lifetime ago, perhaps you would heed them now. Leave. Find your own forest, your own fortress. Start anew. Find a good life without all of this chaos.”

  Ezekiel’s sadness was clear on his face. In ways, this seemed a far harsher betrayal than the one they had received at Matthias’s hand.

  “You didn’t just leave behind Arcadia,” Ezekiel finally said, his voice deep and gravelly. “You abandoned humanity. I am far from perfect, but I would die before I did that.”

  The Chieftain sipped from his own drink. “It pains me to hear that, old friend. Because it means that death will probably come sooner than later for you.” He nodded and the two attendants returned from the shadows. “But it won’t come tonight. We have prepared shelter for you. Rest here in safety before you return to your world of war. I pray the Mother and Father will bring you victory. Farewell, Ezekiel.”

  As the druid leader finished, those that were seated rose and walked out of the circle into the darkness.

  Gregory felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump.

  The girl with the almond-shaped eyes stared at him. He could swear her eyes were glossy with tears. “Come with me, Gregory of Arcadia. Your place is prepared.”

  Gregory and Ezekiel followed their attendants with heavy hearts, and Gregory finally understood why it was called the Dark Forest.

  ****

  The result of their visit was disappointing, but Gregory felt surprisingly rejuvenated with a full stomach and a night’s rest in the Dark Forest. Ezekiel had been silent for the first few hours as they followed a young druid boy toward the edge of the forest. Apparently, the Chieftain had been satisfied that his old teacher meant them no harm, and Gregory was happy just not to have a bag covering his head.

  Finally, their guide left them on a path, pointing them toward the east.

  Gregory watched the kid go, and then said, “I’m sorry, Ezekiel. They’re damn fools for refusing you.”

  Continuing down the path, the wizard glanced over his shoulder. “No. They’re not, not really. I can’t say I blame them. They have achieved what I have spent my life fighting for. Their defenses are strong here in the forest, and the Chancellor might just leave them to their quiet lives. He’d be smart to do just that. The druids are powerful. Advancing on their territory would be nearly impossible, even with an army of thousands and a flying death machine.”

  “But you said…”

  He nodded. “I know what I said. Alexander and I both knew the truth of the matter. We also both realized I had to try.”

  They walked in silence for long enough that Gregory lost track of time. Trees were starting to thin, indicating that they were nearing the edge of the Dark Forest. Gregory’s stomach began to growl, already forgetting about the ample tray the beautiful druid with the almond-shaped eyes had delivered hours earlier. While the meal was a distant memory, she was not. Gregory imagined all the things he could have said to her in those moments, but all he had mustered was a squeaky, “Thank you.” Nothing more.

  As his mind continued to wonder, he didn’t notice that Ezekiel had stopped short on the narrow single track. Slamming into the wizards back, he looked up into the bearded face. Ezekiel’s eyes were fixed on the hedge t
o their right. He held his index finger to his lips and watched the flora with intent. Then, without warning, his eyes flashed red as he raised his staff in the direction he was looking.

  The brush obeyed the command of the wizard and spread apart.

  Gregory gasped as he discovered the very druid girl he was thinking about crouching in the dirt, now exposed by the parted shrubbery.

  “Damn it,” she gasped as she fell over backward and landed on her ass. She then stood, brushed the dirt from her green cloak, and began to walk toward them.

  “Took you long enough,” she said with her eyes on Ezekiel. “I thought I would have to follow you all day.” Her eyes cut to Gregory, and she gave him a wink.

  Ezekiel grinned. “I knew you were there all along, child. I was simply ignoring you until I became hungry.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here. I’ve got three-days’ worth of rations and a few bottles of our elixir that this one seemed to like.” She motioned to Gregory. “And don’t call me child. I’m as adult as your friend here.”

  “We won’t need the rations. Have enough for the journey, and once we’re clear of the forest, we will jump most of the way.”

  She grinned. “I don’t know much about your physical magic, wizard, but I do know it will be hard for you to transport all three of us back to your base.”

  Ezekiel raised a brow. “The three of us? Go home, chi—young lady. I know enough about your culture to know that you can’t just leave the forest, not without passing the test.”

  “The name is Laurel… And I passed the Versuch, thank you very much. I’m free to go where I choose, and I choose to go with you. The Chief might not understand, but I know that injustice—no matter where it finds its home—must be rooted out. And to do that, you need someone who understands roots.”

  Ezekiel turned to Gregory and shrugged. But Gregory missed it—he was too busy staring at her. Finally, Ezekiel said, “Well, it seems my traveling companion doesn’t mind. And if you’re half as strong as you are bold, you will find a place in the revolution.”