"Aye. He told me my power was no longer just a weapon, but also a tool against all other weapons."
"This is all very disturbing. Granted, I don’t know everything there is to know about magic, but I thought that I knew a great deal. Now you tell me there are powers within our magic that I had been told were unattainable. Since you have come to this world, Michael, everything I knew to be true has been proven false."
Michael laughed. "Now you know how I feel most of the time. Merric, you said Joshua was abducted and brought to this world."
"Yes. The Weres will have taken him to Gratton. He is being held as leverage against the Avari joining the war."
"Then Micah has a very difficult decision ahead of him. I don’t envy his position," Michael said with feeling.
"Micah knows what he has to do. Although the choice is a hard one, it is not difficult to make. What is one life against thousands? He has made similar decisions before. The Purging was one such decision."
"I don’t understand. You mean Micah is going to let Joshua die? I can’t believe he would do that," Michael replied heatedly.
"No. What I said is that he knows what he has to do. Do not write Joshua off yet. Micah will do everything in his power to save the man except pull his Avari out of the war. He is not stupid. He knows there are no guarantees that Mortow would release Joshua even if Micah and the Avari withdraw. He is, no doubt, off somewhere at this very moment plotting and assessing what can and should be done to save Joshua. So no, Micah is not just going to let him die."
Michael thought about Micah's predicament for a few minutes. "Merric, would you be willing to help me with an experiment? One that could possibly help Micah save Joshua."
"What do you have in mind?" Merric asked hesitantly. "You are hardly in any condition to go storming Gratton."
"What I have in mind is a test of sorts. Mortow will have similar defensive fields around Gratton like the ones you have here, right?"
"Yes."
"Is it very difficult for you to modify those defenses?"
"That would depend on the type of modification. Why?"
"Could you change the field around Kantwell to keep me out?" Michael asked.
"Of course, but why would I want to do that?"
"So I could attempt to get in. You said yourself that I keep proving that I can do things other magi cannot. If I can gain entry to Kantwell with you having changed the field to keep me out…"
"Then you could likely get into to Gratton as well," Merric said, quickly cutting Michael off. "It is certainly worth a try, and I could modify the field in such a way very easily. You would have to be outside Kantwell before I change the field though."
"Why is that?"
Merric stood and began pacing with his hands clasped behind his back. "Think of the defensive field as a fence. If you put up a fence to keep an animal out that is already in, all you succeed in doing is trapping that animal on the inside with you. The field works the same way."
"Ok, can you modify the field from the outside?"
"Yes."
"Then let’s get Branik and Reek and go outside the field. By the way, where is the field’s actual boundary?"
"It is slightly outside the curtain wall surrounding Kantwell. Are you sure you are up to this right now, Michael? You have been through a lot recently."
"There's no way I could sleep knowing Joshua is in trouble, and that I may be able to help him. You’ve never met him, Merric, but I have. He is a nice man who does not deserve what is happening to him. I have to try to help him. Even if I didn’t know Joshua, I know Micah. That alone is reason enough for me," Michael explained in agitation.
"Relax, Michael. I will help you in any way I can. Micah is my friend, too. Just knowing how he feels about Joshua is enough for me as well."
Merric walked to the door and opened it to find Reek and Branik in the hall right outside the door, standing like two sentries on duty. "Masters Branik and Reek, would you please come in here?"
Both men moved forward simultaneously. Reek hung back to allow Branik to enter first and then followed him into the study.
Branik gazed around the room, locking eyes on Michael, still seated in front of Merric’s desk.
"What is it that you require, Wizard Merric?" Reek asked when Branik remained silent.
"Michael has an experiment he wishes to conduct and we must go outside Kantwell to test it," Merric explained.
Michael rose as Merric was speaking and turned to face the two Avari. "We will be just outside the wall surrounding Kantwell. This could take some time, and I don’t want you angry with me again, Branik." Seeing Branik’s nod, Michael continued. "Ok, let’s get to it then. Transfero nos ut mea visum."
The four of them stood outside the main gate of Kantwell’s curtain wall.
Michael turned to Merric. "Do whatever you need to do, Merric."
Branik and Reek moved off behind Michael and stood watching the plains surrounding Kantwell. The elven camp was visible to the south, its colored tents rippling in the breeze.
Merric glanced over his shoulder at the gates, "Tribuo pello Michael." He felt the magic take hold of the shield and shift the energies. "It is done. Try to walk through the gates. No magic, just walk."
Michael looked at the gates and began walking toward them. When he was about ten feet away he stopped short and rebounded, landing on his backside. Michael touched his nose gently. "Feels like I walked into a brick wall." Michael rose to his feet and dusted off his hands. "I assume this field extends underground as well?"
"Yes. It is a complete sphere encompassing all of Kantwell. If it were not, then Mortow and his magi would be able to teleport into the lower levels and simply walk up into Kantwell proper," Merric explained.
"Ok, scratch that then. Let me think. Sino mihi viscus." Michael felt the familiar wind waft through his mind informing him that the magic had functioned. He walked forward with his hand outstretched. When he got to the area of the field, his hand came up against a solid surface. Michael pushed harder, but it was like trying to push the curtain wall itself. "Well, that didn’t work."
"Apparently not," Merric stated.
Lowering his hand Michael tried again, "Transfero mihi ut mea cella." Again Michael felt the wind, but he remained standing where he was. The teleport spell that would have normally taken him to his room in Kantwell did not function. Still staring straight ahead Michael inquired further. "How does the field handle physical attack?"
"The only ones who can physically assault the shield are those whom it is designed to keep out. To anyone else, it simply does not seem to exist. Therein lie its greatest weakness. You cannot simply say, for example, prevent all trolls from entering. You have to name the specific person you wish to bar from entering."
Merric squatted down and ran his hands through the grass until he found two small rocks. He straightened and walked up to Michael, who was still staring forward as if he could see the field, completely lost in thought. Merric nudged Michael’s shoulder to get his attention. When Michael turned to look at him, Merric handed him one of the rocks. "Let me demonstrate. You are barred from Kantwell, and I am not. Throw your rock at the wall."
Michael looked at Merric then at the small rock in his hand. He bounced it a few times on his palm and then pitched it at the wall. It hit the field about two feet in front of him and deflected back. Michael quickly ducked to keep from being hit as it ricocheted passed his head.
"Now watch," Merric told him. Merric threw his rock and it sailed all the way up to the curtain wall, striking it and bouncing off harmlessly. "Anything to do with you or originating from you is barred from entry. You cannot teleport in nor can you, in any way, harm those on the inside."
"Would Mortow and his magi be able to batter down the field with magic?" Michael asked.
"No. The field does not weaken from attacks against it. Only time diminishes its strength. As long as I continue to maintain it, it will remain indefinitely," Merric informed Michael.
"I guess I could drain the magic from it until it dissipated, but I don’t want to do that on our field."
"Yes. You could do that, but the second you started draining Mortow’s field, he would know it and any element of surprise would then be gone."
"Maybe Mortow hasn’t thought to bar me from Gratton yet."
"You don’t really believe that do you? The minute he lost control over you, he would have altered his field. For everything that the man is, he is not stupid."
"Maybe I am too tired. I can’t think of any way around or through it other than draining it."
"It was a long shot to begin with, Michael. These fields have been designed to keep people out. It is quite possible that, even with your powers, you could not breach it."
"Could I alter the field like you did?"
"Under normal circumstances no. Only I can alter the field, unless I permit you."
"Then that must be what Micah did with the one around my room because I was able to alter it to allow someone else access."
"That is exactly what he did. He set it up for you and then allowed you to alter it so that you could maintain it. If he hadn’t, then he would be the only one that could feed energy into it."
Michael rubbed his eyes and yawned. "I need sleep. I can’t even think straight anymore. Merric, would you grant me access again so I can go lie down?"
"Of course, Michael. Tribuo obvius ut Michael. There you go. Go get some rest. If anything comes up I will wake you."
Michael nodded then turned to Branik and Reek. "Ready?"
"Always," Branik replied.
"Transfero nos ut mis visum." Michael spoke the words and disappeared along with Branik and Reek.
Merric stood there looking at Kantwell’s outer wall then spoke the words of transport himself. He reappeared in the scrying chamber below Kantwell. Gazing down at the silvery surface of the scrying basin he muttered, "Ostendo."
The surface went black, then cleared to reveal the stone structure of Gratton. Its huge central tower soared high above the surrounding defensive walls. Merric sucked in a breath of dread as he watched rank upon rank of troll warriors pour forth from the gates. Everyone one of them was sheathed in glistening chainmail and most were carrying the traditional troll gahln, a five foot long war hammer with a serrated face on one end and a long slightly curved spike on the other. The trolls employed these wicked looking gahlns both as tools for their mining and as weapons of war.
Merric continued to watch as the trolls left Gratton followed by thousands of ogres, all likewise outfitted for battle. Unlike the trolls, who preferred metal armor and their Gahlns, the ogres wore hardened leathers decorated with feathers and shrunken heads and primarily carried swords or huge war hammers. Both the trolls and the ogres marched in neat, orderly military rows. As the last of the ogres left the gates, a flood of animals came pouring out, slavering and snapping. They spewed forth as if Gratton itself was vomiting them, trying to rid itself of their foulness. The swarm of animals ranged far out and around the marching lines of warriors. It was a formidable display of military might and a sight that made Merric’s heart sink.
"He must have close to fifty thousand troops."
As Merric continued to watch, the last of the Weres emptied from the gates. Three lone figures mounted on black horses rode out, one in the lead and two flanking, slightly behind. All three wore the black robes with red sashes of the traitors of Gratton. The lead figure with his impressive size and long, jet black hair caused a pang to run through Merric’s chest. It was the first time he'd seen Mortow in over five years, and a tear trailed down Merric’s face.
"Ah, my son, what you have brought us to that we must once again fight one another? For once, I am glad your mother is not alive. It would break her heart to see what has become of you." Merric studied Mortow closely. The blood red sash around his waist bore many black stripes. As Merric counted them, his heart sank even further. "Nine. So it is true. I would feel a sense of pride if I did not loathe you so much. I…" Merric’s voice stuck in his throat as two giant forms slithered out from Gratton’s gates.
Covered in rotted remnants of hooded, black robes, the scaly creatures towered over the riders. Each carried a huge scythe and, trailing behind them, their long reptilian tails moved in undulating cycles, propelling them fluidly forward.
An overwhelming sense of fear swept over Merric, causing him to tremble. Here was a nightmare come to life. Here were the Garoliths.
Chapter Fourteen
Mortow stood at the top of the steps leading up to Gratton’s main and only visible entrance. He looked out over his army, not with pride at bringing these three nations together, but with speculation as to how they could best be used to achieve his goal. That goal was the unification of all races under a common ruler, himself. Mortow knew what he was doing was right. Under his leadership, the races would cease their warring and bickering. He would see to that end, even if he had to cull them down to near extinction. He was the only one with the vision of how things should be. He was the only one with the power and will to see it done. When he ruled, the wizards would no longer be at the beck and call of those squabbling masses, but would be their arbitrators and governors.
The combined might of the trolls, the ogres, and the lower-caste Weres now represented the majority of the population on Thelona.
The elves, never great in numbers, would be decimated in a matter of hours; knowing the elves would never flee their beloved Trelom. Mortow surmised that with the five hundred or so Forest Guard in exile, there would be perhaps six to seven hundred elves left after the Weres did their job.
The dwarven race had already been slaughtered to near extinction. Maklin reported that only about two hundred had escaped the raid visited on them by the ogres. They ran and hid themselves away in their mountain hold within Delven Pass. Those few, plus the remaining dwarven fighting units deployed around the realm, were all that remained of that once proud and ever stubborn race. In all, there were probably less than five hundred dwarves remaining.
The humans of Branna numbered around twenty thousand, but most of them were farmers. King Brose would only be able to field around eight to ten thousand warriors and, of those, only four thousand or so would be trained soldiers.
The Avari, on the other hand, were an unknown factor. None of the spies sent to the Avari Isle ever returned. Mortow had been unable to scry on the island. Some force blocked it from his view. It was not the total blackout that he got when trying to scry on Kantwell, but rather a dense fog that obscured everything from view. It puzzled him and, the truth be told, worried him a little. The amount of power it took to shield an entire island was disconcerting.
Mortow had known that Micah had a little magical ability, but he did not believe the Avari Lord was capable of such a feat. No, there had to be some other explanation. Still, he had no way of knowing how many Avari there actually were. The island was not large, but it could hold a dense population; a population of some of the fiercest warriors ever known on Thelona.
His army, however, would be intimidating to the other races for its sheer numbers, not to mention the size of the trolls and ogres. The troll nation had turned out just over ten thousand warriors. The ogre tribes had supplied him with nearly six thousand, and the Weres, probably the most prolific race on Thelona, had come to him in droves. There were nearly twenty-five thousand of them left, even after all the raids he had sent them on. Three thousand Weres were now on ships headed around the northern edge of the continent. The people of Branna would have their hands full. King Brose would be forced to divide his troops and fight the war on two fronts. By the time he realized what was happening, a good number of his citizens would already be dead.
This would not be much of a war. Kantwell and its allies were outnumbered by more than four to one. The wizards of Kantwell would have a big surprise in store. The Garoliths would deal with them. Michael, alone, stood a chance against the fearsome monsters. He was the only other n
inth key wizard on Thelona, but he would have no knowledge of what he fought.
A smile touched Mortow’s lips briefly, as he considered Michael facing several of the horrors. The boy won’t know what hit him. That should wipe that annoying little smirk from his face once and for all. Mortow raised his right hand above his head and the mass of soldiers immediately fell silent. "Let it begin!" his deep voice rumbled throughout the courtyard and echoed off the curtain wall.
The troll army turned with practiced precision and began filing through the gate. The ogres turned with grunts and growls of battle lust to follow the trolls. The combined marching unit was swarmed and surrounded by the Weres, sending up a clash of howls, yips, growls, and roars as they flowed out and around the orderly ranks of trolls and ogres.
Maklin vanished from his place at Mortow’s back to reappear at the bottom of the steps with three black horses. Two of the horses were outfitted in plain leather gear. The third stood out, not only because it was at least five hands taller than the other two; but, also because all of its equipment was a matching red; the same red of the sashes worn by all the wizards of Gratton. As Mortow and Megan walked down the steps toward their mounts, a gaping hole opened in the mountain to the left of the tower. From that hole a palpable cold could be felt; and, behind that shock of cold came ten creatures created for no other reason than to destroy magic.
For Megan and Maklin, this was the first time they had laid eyes on the Garoliths. Mortow could see the fear mirrored in both sets of eyes. He saw the muscle in Maklin’s jaw tighten as he stood straighter. Mortow thought he saw a slight tremor run through Megan, but that was the only outward sign that she had noticed the Garolith’s arrival. Mortow wondered again about Mael. He could see the slight wizard turning to face the Garoliths with nothing more than that sly smile of his. No, even these would fail to move Mael to fear.
Mortow mounted his horse and without waiting for Maklin or Megan to do the same, motioned for two of the Garoliths to follow. The rest knew their duties.
Myrkron (Volume Two of The Chronicles of the Myrkron) Page 12
