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

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Revolution: Age Of Magic - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Rise of Magic Book 4) Page 19

by CM Raymond


  “Things will be better once I shove a fireball up Adrien’s ass and push it out his eye sockets. Only then will I consider justice served.”

  Ezekiel nodded, drawing on his pipe. The bowl glowed red, like the color of his eyes when he cast magic. “Yes. That will be an act of justice, indeed. And then…”

  “Then what?”

  “Then we continue on, pushing the darkness further and further out until there is nothing but light.”

  Hannah pivoted, so they were standing side by side again, both of them watching the moon run its course. “Will there ever be rest?”

  “Yes. I believe there will… but maybe not for us.”

  “Shit. I was afraid you’d say that.”

  Hannah was about to object, to talk about how she wanted to settle down, have a quiet life, but before she could, a voice broke into her mind.

  It was Hadley.

  They are passing the Arcadian gate. There are hundreds and hundreds of them... Maybe a thousand. This is happening.

  A chill ran up Hannah’s spine. In a way, she had hoped that the rearick was right, that Violet was a hoax to scare them, to drive them away from Arcadia for good. Then she exhaled, and pushed the fear away, just like she had tried to do months ago on that very roof.

  “They’re coming.”

  Ezekiel kept his eyes on the glowing orb in the sky. “I know. Better get that fireball ready.”

  ****

  As dawn broke, Hannah stood and watched people run in every direction readying themselves for war. They had all come to the tower for different reasons—nobles, the poor, men and women, children, and the old. But she couldn’t help smiling now as she watched them move as one body—as rebels, brought together with a common vision of a city worth living in.

  The Arcadian rebels had their act together, and Hannah trusted that their team leaders could handle the details. She turned for her room to prepare herself for battle.

  She turned the corner of the corridor leading to her room and saw two figures standing close. It was Julianne and Marcus. While she hadn’t spent much time with him, Marcus had won over Parker, which, considering her friend’s suspicious nature, was saying something. That and the Master Mystic’s vote of confidence sealed the deal.

  Hannah stepped back around the corner. She felt bad for eavesdropping, but not badly enough to stop. Marcus could still be a double agent, so she considered it reconnaissance.

  “You going to be OK out there?” Julianne asked, her voice tinted with concern.

  Marcus’s voice was low but confident. “Nothing to it. I’ve been in the shit more than once, and this’ll be easier than following you and Doyle into the Frozen North; that’s for sure.”

  She laughed. “Yeah. And… you almost died out there, if you don’t remember.”

  “I did. Until you saved me.”

  Julianne laughed when she said, “There’s something I never told you.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her voice grew serious. “I came this close to throwing you into that eternal ravine.”

  “Well, then… I guess I’m a hell of a lot safer here than I was in the Frozen North.” He paused. “Why didn’t you?”

  Hannah glanced around the corner and saw Julianne reach out and grab his arm.

  “Maybe I still have some plans to use you,” she said.

  He laughed. “That’s something we’ll need to revisit after all of this.”

  Hannah jumped as Maddie grabbed her by the arm.

  “Shit!” she yelped. “You scared me.”

  Julianne and Marcus looked up and took a step away from each other.

  “Hey, guys.” Hannah waved. They nodded back sheepishly.

  “Come with me,” Maddie said to Hannah and led her back to the Great Hall.

  They walked to a corner of the room, where the wooden box from the Heights sat waiting for them. Hannah stood motionless, as the noble woman knelt by the box and pulled out each piece of the armor with care.

  “I can do this,” Hannah said.

  Maddie, on her knees before the young magician, looked up and smiled. “I’ve been told this is a tradition of old. The warrior, the one who is ready to ride out and offer his life for the sake of those he loved, would be served in this way. Today we maintain a piece of our history, for the sake of our future.”

  Hannah still didn’t like it, but she nodded, encouraging her service.

  “Thank you, Maddie.”

  “It’s nothing. Really, this is an honor.”

  Hannah shook her head. “I’m not talking about the armor. I’m talking about you. The things you do around here are incredibly important, but I know they also get lost in the midst of training for fights and learning magic. We couldn’t be us if you weren’t you.”

  Maddie’s face glowed. “Well, thank you. I don’t need thanks, and I know that my work is at least mildly important.” Maddie attached the last piece over Hannah’s chest and stood back with a whistle. “Now, you look like a true warrior.”

  Hannah listened but didn’t respond. Instead, she grabbed Maddie’s hand and squeezed. “There’s one more thing. Something you have to do today that’s actually more important than what Ezekiel, Karl, or even I do out there.” She nodded beyond the doors of the tower.

  “Anything.”

  “I’m sending the old folks and the children with you. Take them down to the basement. It’s not much, but it’s the safest place for them. Do whatever it requires, Maddie, to protect them.”

  Maddie squeezed back on Hannah’s hand, and suddenly, she looked years older than she was. “You have my word.”

  The women hugged. Hannah held Maddie close. She knew that it might be the last time they ever saw one other. Breaking the embrace, Hannah said, “And don’t forget that you did the absolute hardest job in all of the rebellion.”

  Maddie furrowed her brow. “Really? What could that be?”

  “You taught me how to dance,” Hannah said through laughter.

  With one last goodbye, Hannah turned to find her leaders, each of them making final preparations and reminding their cohorts of the task that lay ahead. She instructed them to gather outside, in the grass at the base of the stairs, so that Ezekiel could give any last words before they headed to their stations.

  It wasn’t long before they were there, almost two hundred in all, but there was only one person missing.

  Ezekiel.

  Where the hell are you? Hannah said through her mind. She got no response.

  The people shifted impatiently on the grass below, and she cursed her mentor for not being there. Glancing at the sun rising higher in the sky, she realized that they needed to start. Adrien’s forces would be upon them before they knew it—and maybe even Adrien himself.

  She raised her hands over her head, and the crowd hushed. All eyes were on her.

  Clearing her throat, she spoke as loudly as she could. “We are Arcadians!” The crowd cheered in response, and she felt power and confidence well up under her skin. “And today, we make the first step toward home. There are times for long-winded speeches, but this is not one of those days. You have worked, studied, and trained. The fight has come sooner than we expected, but that is no matter. Each and every one of you has power,” she pulled on the words of Ezekiel from a few hours before. “You have a belief that is deeper than any mine in the Heights and higher than the peaks in the Frozen North. Our fight is driven by our love, a love for what once was and what could be. Let me not mislead you. Some of us will not live to see the sunrise tomorrow. But our blood will feed a new Arcadia and a better Irth.”

  She looked down at the front row, her eyes landing on Parker’s. A smile covered his face. He was proud of her, and that gave her courage. As his smile faded, he gave her a nod. She realized it was the closest thing to a goodbye they would share.

  “Now, let’s get out there and kick some ass!”

  The crowd roared. As each of the leaders stepped off in different directions, their teams foll
owed, leaving Hannah standing at the top of the steps, watching them go. She felt the familiar rub against her hip. Instinctively, she reached down and scratched Sal under his chin.

  “I’ve got a job for you. You’re not going to like it.”

  The dragon’s tongue shot out of his mouth, his eyes looking at his master unblinkingly.

  “Go to the basement with the kids and old folk. If anyone that isn’t one of us comes down, I want you to rip them to shreds. Keep ripping until you can do no more. In that room are the memories of Arcadia and its future. Can you do that for me?”

  Sal crouched down and let out a deep growl. He didn’t want to leave her, and she knew it. To be honest, she didn’t want him to go.

  “Listen, pal, you’re one of the best things that has happened to me for a long time. I’d love for you to come, to have you fight by my side, but if those bastards make it through to the tower, I need you down there as a last defense. Our most vulnerable need you.”

  Sal gave Hannah's leg one last rub, turned, and ran inside the tower.

  Hannah watched as the teams spread out and disappeared into their positions. She realized, one way or another, nothing would be the same again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Captain Dickerson shifted in the saddle as he rode toward the tower, his handlebar mustache bouncing along with the horse’s slow walk.

  Men on horseback flanked him, fifty on either side, men adept in fast riding and faster magic.

  They were his elite warriors—trained in the Academy and ready to put that magic to good use. Each of them rode tall, proud of their position of prestige among the Arcadian soldiers.

  Immediately behind them walked the grunts—mostly unskilled men and women who would fight sloppy and dirty. If the rebels came with any sort of resistance, some of them would be fodder left to rot on the battlefield, but Dickerson didn’t expect that to be an issue.

  Instead, he presumed he’d be home before dark for a hot meal, a cold ale, and quick lay in the Dragon’s Lair—his favorite of Arcadia’s whorehouses.

  Taking up the rear were the soldiers trained in the use of magitech. Most of them were former Guardsmen who patrolled the streets before the Battle of the Boulevard. Over the past month, they had been retrained for combat in the open, and most of them took to the task glowingly.

  The captain was certain that they had taken far too many people into the field. A small group of rebels could be wiped clean with a handful of gifted fighters, at least that is what he thought. Nevertheless, Adrien chided him for underestimating their foe and insisted on bringing nearly a full force, leaving behind only enough to look after Arcadia in their stead.

  Riding over a rise, which overlooked an open field, Dickerson’s eyes grew wide as he spied a singular figure standing out in the open. It was a woman, her right hand raised with fingers splayed. It was the sign for a tressen, a military tradition in which the commanders of opposing armies would meet to consider the terms of war. Dating back to sometime before the Age of Madness, the tressen had become more of a time for trash talk and insults than anything else.

  A greater insult, though, had already been offered. Dickerson looked left and right at his horsemen and then scoffed as he glared back at the lone woman standing in the middle of the field. “Apparently, there is no man among them willing to face me. Looks like that flower has hardly even blossomed.” His men laughed and hurled obscenities at the woman. “This is going to be easier than we expected, gentlemen. I guess I will have to do my duty. The tressen might just turn out to be my most difficult task of the day.”

  He rode out toward her while his men continue to laugh. As he approached, Dickerson noticed that the woman was wearing armor, which had no hint of experience to it. Figures, he thought. These assholes have never seen battle.

  Twenty feet from his foe, he stopped and raised his own hand, fingers splayed, the traditional response to the call for tressen, before they both dropped their arms to their sides. He didn’t bother to dignify her presence by getting off his horse, rather, keeping one fist curled near his crotch, he leaned back and narrowed his eyes.

  “Darling, shouldn’t you be back nursing the children or maybe even being nursed yourself?” Dickerson grinned as a way to fully patronize her. “I will assume that you are the Hannah everyone in Arcadia is talking about these days. Funny, I expected something a bit more.”

  Ignoring his comments, Hannah offered their terms. “Lay down your arms,” she shouted, “and turn around now. If you do that, you and your men will live to see the sunset.”

  Dickerson started to laugh uncontrollably. “Are you serious?”

  “Advance, and I will make sure I cut your throat myself!”

  The look in her eye told him that she was serious. His hubris pushed him into a state of anger. “Cut my throat? Girl, I was mowing down remnant by the dozens before you were born. By the time you were walking, I was taking out full battalions with my left hand. And now you dare talk to me like this?”

  A smile grew on her face. “I heard you had been sent away from Arcadia, Dickstache. You’re washed up, a has-been. Adrien only brought you back because he was desperate. If it weren’t for us already striking a blow on his forces, if it wasn’t for my people already taking down the Captain named Stellan, you’d still be out on the edges of the Madlands with your thumb up your ass—or using your left hand for something else other than killing.”

  Dickerson’s anger turned to rage. In a move fast enough to show his experience, he pulled his magitech rifle from his hip. Its barrel was short but wide. Without a word, he broke the most fundamental rule of warfare—attacking during a tressen.

  A powerful blue blast shot from the weapon. It was enough to take down a man twice her size. Instead of leveling her, it ran right through, as if she weren’t there. Dirt exploded behind her.

  The image of Hannah smiled wider and gave the captain the middle finger. “Nice shot, douche nugget. Remember, I’ll be waiting for you myself.” And then she flickered and disappeared.

  Dickerson’s face grew red; a vein popped from the middle of his forehead. He had planned on showing the rebels mercy, but all that ended now. “Company C take to the woods. Find them and bring me their heads.”

  The men on horseback spread, leaving room for the foot soldiers to move through. Fifty men drew their weapons and dashed the remainder of the open field, hurling themselves into the woods. The captain smiled, waiting for the screams of their victims, but there was only silence.

  Minutes later, screams arose from the forest, but they weren’t from the rebels. Men charged out of the woods, Dickerson’s men, their faces painted with terror. As one man cut close to Dickerson, the captain raised his boot, taking the man out at the shoulder.

  “What the hell are you running from, you damned coward?”

  Spinning, the man looked up at his leader. “Monsters, sir. Brutal things like I’ve never seen in those woods.”

  “Weak-minded fools,” Dickerson utter under his breath.

  He jammed his thumb and middle finger into his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. The soldiers stopped, cowering behind the horsemen and interspersed with the Guardsmen carrying magitech.

  Pulling the reins, Dickerson turned his horse to face his army.

  “They’re nothing other than a few peasants with a trick or two up their sleeves. Do not fall for their mindfuckery. Anything that doesn’t look real isn’t. On my command, full assault, straight on. No one stops until every last one of them is dead. Men, women, and children. Let’s show them some real monsters.”

  “Sir,” his second in command said from his right, “full assault? We could do a simple maneuver.”

  Dickerson snickered. “Come on, Curt. You, too? This will be a good opportunity for the men to get some blood on their hands. It will raise morale for the wars to come.” He raised his brows. “Or are you also afraid of a little girl and shadows in the woods.”

  “No, sir. I’m good.”

 
He raised a finger and pointed it in the man’s direction. “Good. Now, don’t even think of questioning my command again. Next time, you will be on the sharp side of my sword. Now, send the order.”

  The man swallowed hard and straightened his helmet.

  “Charge!” he yelled.

  Dickerson sat watching as his men moved into the woods. This will be a glorious day, he thought.

  ****

  A stiff winter wind cut through Ezekiel’s beard as he stood on the roof of the tower. The far-off battle cry met his ears along with the sound of four-hundred hooves.

  He couldn’t help but smile. Julianne’s projection of Hannah had done the trick, and hopefully, it set the captain off his game. From the sounds of things, he was launching an impatient attack. Exactly what they hoped for.

  He reached out to Hannah with his mind. OK, they took the bait and are on the move. Remember, don’t engage until after we’ve split them up. They might be arrogant, but their arrogance comes honestly. They outnumber us ten to one, and there’s a lot of skill represented.

  Got it, Hannah replied. Don’t worry. I plan on taking my time with this.

  ****

  Parker balanced in the crotch of a tree, high above the advancing troops. The horses slowed as they cautiously moved through the thick brambles. Laurel had spent days asking the forest to congregate in this spot—exactly where Hannah’s taunting was meant to lead them. It wasn’t like the thick wall protecting the border of the Dark Forest, but it was enough to slow their charge—and piss them off. As the footmen and magitech soldiers caught up to the men on horseback, Parker held his breath.

  Wait for it, he told himself. Come on, you scum-sucking, shit hounds.

  As the first wave of men, with madness in their eyes, passed under him, Parker chirped out the call of the thrush, a signal that they had practiced for a moment such as this. Hadley, thirty feet off, nodded and repeated the call for their women from the Boulevard.

  “Now!” Krystal called to her team.

 

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