Divided (#1 Divided Destiny)

by Taitrina Falcon

  At those words, the assembled court started murmuring, but it was so quiet Leo couldn’t catch the words. Several of the nobles shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t take a genius to work out that magic was perhaps not as accepted as he had thought. That made sense; people feared what they didn’t understand. Mathis had not seemed to fear the sorcerer, but then he was a knight of the realm; he had likely seen far more than these sheltered nobles.

  Leo had already planned that their first trip would be to visit this so-called sorcerer. Mathis had suggested that he could help find the rest of their unit. However, their primary concern had to be the mission. With any luck, the sorcerer would be like one-stop shopping for all their needs. He had been going to ask about the transport platform, but having been interrupted, Leo had reconsidered. That platform linked this world to their own; it was a vulnerability, and finding the way back wasn’t a priority until they had a weapon.

  “We understand, thank you,” Leo said.

  Asking a medieval kingdom for help had always been a long shot anyway, but in a strange world, nothing could be assumed or taken for granted. Just because he didn’t believe they had anything of value that could help them didn’t mean that was true. Although, if they did have some kind of superweapon, they would surely have used it to defend themselves against the dragon or to rid themselves of their border problem.

  “Mathis, rest for the night and resupply. See your new friends to quarters. Tomorrow, you are to return to the border,” Prince Edmund ordered. “You may escort Staff Sergeant Frasier and his friend until your paths diverge.”

  “By your command, your Majesty.” Mathis bowed.

  Prince Edmund turned back to the war table. Mathis straightened and headed for the exit, and Leo and Don followed him. That had gone about as well as could be expected. Tomorrow they would set out for the sorcerer, or whatever he really was, and maybe then they would see results.

  They couldn’t afford to wait around Termont in the hope that more of their unit would make their way here. At least there were two of them now; they had to press on with the mission. Leo planned on asking Mathis before they left if they could leave a note. In the note, they would list their names and where they were going. Therefore, if anyone did arrive after they left, they would hopefully be able to catch up with them later.

  Keeping the tactical radio switched off except at certain times would conserve the battery for a while. However, even with that measure, it wasn’t going to last long. The range was only just over half a mile. Just this kingdom was many hundreds of times that size, and there was no guarantee that the unit hadn’t spread beyond the border. For now, they were on their own.

  It had been two days since the alien ships had descended and demanded their worship. A lot could happen in a short space of time. Leo felt the pressure of time passing, the itch to keep moving, the need to do something before it was too late, before they didn’t have a world to return to.

  Chapter Ten

  It was amazing what a difference a few hours made. Earlier that day, Queen Eleanor had believed that the forces of Gatlan were about to crumble and the kingdom would be hers. However, right before she was about to retire for the evening, one of her knights rode up with news from the battlefield. Gatlan’s forces had rallied; the battle was far from over, and most decidedly not won.

  Eleanor stormed into her chambers, her quick, impatient movements radiating her anger. She usually had maids to assist her, but she had dismissed them all. The mood she was in, she would likely curse them, which, while satisfying, would result in her having to find new maids. She had only just gotten these ones properly trained. An impatient twist of her hand pulled all of her hairpins out, causing her long hair to tumble down her back. She sat at her dresser and started to brush her hair quickly, and with far more force than necessary.

  “Careful, your Majesty. Don’t want to ruin your pretty locks,” Yannick sneered.

  Eleanor jumped, startled. He had popped behind her with no characteristic flash of flame. He was just suddenly there, and no matter how many times he came and went, she never got used to the abrupt appearances. Her fingers twitched. It wouldn’t matter if she cursed him; it wouldn’t even connect, but he’d take it as an invitation, and she was too tired to duel tonight. He was far too inventive, and far too free with the pain curses.

  “I take it you have heard that Gatlan has rallied,” Eleanor said, raising an eyebrow imperiously.

  “It is of little consequence.” Yannick waved his hand airily. “If they refuse to surrender, there are other options.”

  “No options I will consider,” Eleanor stated harshly.

  She stood and headed for her balcony. Night had fallen, and the stars were out in full force, bathing her kingdom in a silvery glow. The forest lay in front, the leaves rolling like waves on the ocean. Years of practice meant she could identify the border, where Sintiya ended and Gatlan began. Eleanor promised herself once again that soon that border would be no more. She just had to have patience; a battle not going as expected would only delay the inevitable. Gatlan would be hers, and she would not compromise to get it.

  “Time will make Gatlan fall. If we have patience, we will not need to hasten its demise. Perhaps we should begin preparations for our next campaign?” Yannick suggested.

  “We have already begun putting pressure on Kaslea. You can’t mean the Northern Kingdoms? If King Oswald is going to drag this out, we will only delay victory further by fighting on two fronts,” Eleanor pointed out, her brow furrowed in a puzzled manner.

  Yannick looked at her appraisingly before laughing. “You are right, of course.”

  Eleanor shook her head at Yannick’s odd sense of humor. She had known him for a few years now. They had spent a great deal of time together, first with him tutoring her in magic, and then the two of them plotting the campaigns to make her kingdom the largest and most powerful in the realm. However, he seemed to flip between being a clever schemer with plans for power and being an impatient child who lived only to torment others.

  She was sure he was quite insane, but for the moment their interests were aligned. When that was no longer true, she would have to act quickly. She had no doubt that he would destroy her when she was no longer useful, so she had to destroy him first. He knew more magic than she did, but she had a legion of knights at her command. Hopefully he wouldn’t expect her betrayal, and she could strike first before he had a chance to muster any kind of defense.

  “We should refresh the spells on the dragon, increase the frequency of attacks. Soon, Kaslea will be begging anyone and everyone to save them. The more desperate they are, the more willing they will be to agree to anything their savior demands,” Yannick said silkily. “They aren’t quite desperate enough just yet.”

  “Fighting on their border is helping. They are so desperate to not get involved in our war, the fools have no idea they are playing right into our hands.” Eleanor smiled, finally feeling her anger fade away into the night.

  Contemplating her successes, imagining the future where she had won, had calmed her as surely as cursing her maids would have done. Kaslea trembled in fear, and they had no idea who was truly responsible for their pain. They didn’t know—and would never know—the lengths she would go to in order to secure their kingdom as part of her own. However, she knew, and she relished the feeling of power it gave her. There was nothing like wielding the power of life and death. It was intoxicating.

  “I can see to the dragon spells, if you wish,” Yannick offered. “You do, after all, have a kingdom to run.”

  Eleanor frowned. She considered the suggestion for a moment before shaking her head. “No, I will do it myself. I won’t be missed for the short time it will take.”

  She could teleport herself to the cave the dragon called home and back to the palace. It would not take long, but even if it did, she did not trust Yannick. They had be-spelled the dragon to attack Kaslea; it would be just as easy for him to alter the spells to turn it against others
, and that wasn’t part of the plan.

  While the dragon should be indiscriminate, so nobody suspected it was being controlled, a problem shared was a problem halved. The pressure on Kaslea would be relieved if the dragon turned its attention to another kingdom, and she couldn’t have that. Not yet.

  There were never any guarantees, especially when dealing with Yannick. She had left a monitoring thread on the spells; if he altered them, then she should feel the change. However, he was a skilled sorcerer, and she had no doubt that if he put his mind to it, he would be able to unravel her spell and leave her none the wiser.

  It was more not to put obvious temptation in his path. He could be so impulsive on occasion. Although, given how calculating he was, his actions might have been more considered than they appeared.

  “I will let you retire, your Majesty.” Yannick executed a mocking bow and teleported in a flash of flame.

  Eleanor sighed and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and focused, willing herself to the dragon’s lair. With a flash of crimson-tinted dark flame, she disappeared from her tower. When she opened her eyes, she was outside the side entrance to the dragon’s cave. It was high up on the mountainside. She shivered. Snow had yet to fall on this part of the mountain, but it was only a matter of time. It was always freezing up here.

  She slipped inside the cave entrance. With her right hand, she called forth a ball of flame to illuminate her path. As she crept forward, she reached out to the side of the cave to steady herself, and found that it was slick with condensation and algae. Eleanor wrinkled her nose in distaste and rubbed her hand against her dress. At the back of this cave was an opening to a ledge, towards the back of the much larger cavern the dragon used.

  Eleanor looked down. The dragon was in residence; that was good, as she was not in the mood to wait for it. It also appeared to be sleeping; there were little curls of smoke emanating from its nostrils. That made things easier. While she wasn’t afraid of such a beast—she had confidence in her magic—she couldn’t deny that it made her uncomfortable. After all, it was such a filthy, large creature.

  In the darkness of the cave, the dragon’s scales looked black, but she knew in the sun they shimmered, iridescent, though if pressed she would say the dominant color was ruby red. The color of fire, fitting for a dragon. She raised her hand, and magic pooled in her palm as she concentrated on the result she wanted. With a flick of her wrist, the magic spiraled out, a long tendril which was absorbed into the dragon’s flank.

  Eleanor waited for a moment to make sure the magic was accepted. She was here to renew the spells, not unravel them. The dragon snorted but didn’t move or wake. There was no flash; the magic had sunken in and would start to do its work. The attacks on Kaslea would increase, and when the time was right, she would offer assistance in exchange for control. If Prince Edmund cared about his people, he would have to take the deal.

  She moved back to the cave entrance, closed her eyes, and returned to her bedchamber. With a casual wave of her hand, she swapped her tight black dress for her nightclothes. It was a frivolous waste of magic, but she couldn’t undo the gown without her maids’ help. Besides, she had the gift, so she might as well make use of it. There was always something that needed a little extra special attention.

  A queen’s work was never done.

  *****

  The next day, Mathis set out for the border. Leo and Don had been put up in the visiting knights’ quarters. It was a tiny room that barely fit the two beds. Leo hadn’t known what to expect, and so a recognizable bed, raised off the floor with sheets and blankets, had been a nice surprise. However, he’d realized during the night, it was likely raised off the ground in a vain attempt to reduce the bugs and vermin that infested the straw mattress.

  They had slept in worse places—a mud hole in the ground, for instance—but it still made his skin crawl and itch. He burned for a shower, but these were positively medieval times, and bathing was something that happened infrequently. They just didn’t have the same attitude towards it. Showers didn’t exist here; a bucket of river water was all that was available, and Leo realized they were lucky to have that.

  This might have passed for civilization here, but it was more familiar to Leo and Don as a third world circumstance. People would wash themselves, their clothes, and get their drinking water from the same sources. The town looked clean enough; he had seen no signs of sewage, and remarkably the air was clear and crisp, the salt from the ocean putting a tang on the breeze. However, while the ocean might have helped with the smell, there was no getting around the fact that they had never heard of plumbing.

  Mathis had saddled his horse, but as he had the day before, he didn’t mount, relieving the horse of the burden of carrying both the supplies and the armored knight. It also meant he stayed at a walking pace, allowing him to escort Leo and Don as he had promised. The prince had been more than generous in the supplies he had given the two marines. They had mostly taken as many skins of water as was polite, whatever amount they could reasonably carry.

  Mathis had raised an eyebrow at how little of the dried food they had accepted, but Leo had his reasons. Food he could hunt for, but clean water was a concern. He carried precious few water purification tablets, and he didn’t want to squander them unnecessarily. If anywhere in this world was going to have clean water, it would be the palace.

  They had been traveling for a few hours when it came time to finally part ways. There was a fork in the road; it wasn’t far past the point where Leo had first encountered Mathis the day before.

  “I must travel left, to the border lands. You must travel right, and keep north,” Mathis told them. “The sorcerer does not live on the path, but deep into the woods. Keep due north and your mind clear on your purpose, and you will find him.”

  Leo gave a wry smile. Clarity of purpose; even more magical smokescreen. They needed more than that to go on. He wasn’t going to trust their mission to magical superstition.

  “We’ll be sure to do that. However, just in case, any landmarks we should keep an eye out for?” Leo asked. “Oddly shaped trees, rivers, lakes, rock formations…”

  “What’s the sorcerer’s name? What’s his house look like?” Don picked up the questioning.

  Leo nodded. That was a good point. While there might not be many dwellings in the woods alone, there were likely some, so they needed to make sure they got the right one. He didn’t want any delays in finding this sorcerer. There was no time for mistakes on this mission.

  “You have truly not heard of him?” Mathis looked perplexed. “He is a legend among the people of Kaslea, but I suppose you are from such a faraway land. His name is Cyrus. He is a good sorcerer, reclusive and eccentric. He will help you, but only if you prove worthy.”

  “Worthy?” Leo repeated. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that.

  “When the path ends, you must press deeper into the woods. Keep north; you will find him before the forest gives way to the plains. It is less than two days’ journey from here. You will reach the sorcerer before nightfall tomorrow. I can guide you no further,” Mathis explained.

  Leo shrugged. They were hardly the directions he’d been hoping for but they would have to do. If this sorcerer, Cyrus, was as much of a legend as Mathis indicated, then if they failed to find him, any citizen of Kaslea should be able to update their directions. He was confident they would find him. Whether they would find what they needed was another matter.

  With a respectful nod, Mathis mounted his horse and dug his boots into the horse’s flank. It started forward, increasing in speed to a fast canter, soon swallowed by the surrounding trees. While he didn’t have any specific faith, Leo wished Mathis well and hoped that no misfortune would befall him at the border. He had been nothing but helpful since Leo had stumbled out into the road before his horse. While he wished that Mathis could have guided them further, he was grateful for all he had done.

  “Right, off to see the wizard,” Don joked, starting off down
the right path.

  Leo gave a bark of laughter. “Road’s not yellow enough for that,” he joked back, keeping step with Don.

  They settled into a march, at a fast but comfortable pace that they could keep up for hours. He took in a deep breath, relishing the clean air. He had been deployed to some hellholes over the years; this was definitely not one of them, despite their lack of plumbing.

  They had been walking for just over an hour when they heard the sound of movement from up ahead. Automatically, Leo gestured to Don, using hand signals that they should take cover in the tree line to the left. They didn’t know who was marching towards them, just out of sight due to the curve of the path.

  It wasn’t likely to be a hostile, and hiding off the path would look suspicious if they were caught. However, Leo wasn’t about to bet their safety on everyone being as accepting of them as Mathis had been. They were strangers here, and he felt Mathis’s absence keenly. Accompanied by the knight, no one had given him anything more than a curious glance. He had also had Mathis’s local knowledge to depend on; he would know friend from foe. Not that Leo had any enemies here yet—and he wasn’t looking to make any—but the knights of another kingdom might not see things the same way.

  The sound of approaching footsteps drew closer. Leo pressed further into the tree trunk he was sheltering behind. This side of the path went down a steep embankment; crouched down as he was, from this vantage point he could see little beyond knee-height. Into view came a pair of black regulation boots and a leg covered in fatigue pants.

  Leo breathed out a sigh of relief. “Ooh-rah!” he called, announcing himself.

  He scrambled back onto the path. It was Sergeant Nicholas Carter, from Ortiz’s squad, but that didn’t matter. He was a marine and he was here. That made four of them who had landed near here; the remaining eight had to be somewhere reasonably close. Hope bubbled inside him, an infectious feeling as the relief seemed to spread among the three of them.