Death Mage's Fury

by Jon Bender

  Death Mage’s Fury

  Jonathan Bender

  Copyright © 2015 By Jonathan Bender

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For my wife, who has never stopped believing in me.

  You have been there since the beginning, telling me it was okay to follow my dreams. I can never repay you for everything you have done, and I hope you never realize how much better you can do than me.

  The Fifteen Kingdoms

  Chapter 1

  The power of death flowed from the room, a calming force that filled his body with its strength and sharpened his senses. He could see every crack and dimple in the grey stone of the walls, feel the cold draft rising from the floor beneath his boots. His black shirt clung to his skin as the damp air soaked through the cloth. Jaxom focused his eyes on a small stone that laid upon the wooden table in front of him. Picking it up, he ran his fingers along the hexagonal shape. The stone’s many black surfaces shimmering in the candlelight. Focusing his thoughts, he directed all the power he now contained into the small object. He knew time was passing but was only vaguely aware of it, concentrating solely on the task before him. Melding the power, he willed it to take form, creating a loop that drew more energy into itself then emitting that power back out.

  When he was finished, he replaced the stone then took a step back, looking over the row of four identical, chestnut-sized stones. After three hours of work, the stones could now animate four risen without the need for a death mage to provide a constant flow of magic. The enchantment was one of the skills Alimar had taught him over the past few months. Jaxom had been surprised to discover that the shape and material of the object were an important part of how successful completing the enchantment was. During that lesson, Alimar made a comment on how impressed he was with Jaxom’s sword, but Jaxom now knew he had been very lucky in creating its enchantment. Alimar had insisted that it was more than luck. He said Jaxom had known instinctually, a gift from his lineage, what type of enchantment would take hold in the blade.

  Gathering up the stones, he placed them in a small pouch at his belt before heading out the door of the small workroom. As he walked down the empty torch-lit hall, he enjoyed the privacy of this part of the palace. Opportunities for solitude had been severely lacking since the last battle with the Southerners. Becoming lord of this city, which they had named Terika for the vast forest surrounding it, and ruling in Corin’s name, had been time consuming. His brother had been right about the influx of refugees fleeing the war-torn kingdoms and Or’Keer’s rise to power. Terika had become home to those people, who bought houses, businesses, and trade shops, trying to rebuild their lives. Those who could not afford to buy outright borrowed from the kingdom, agreeing to give over half their earnings until the debt was paid. This system worked especially well with the farmland surrounding the city. The displaced farmers had just enough time to gather a small harvest to feed the growing population. The crops they owed to Jaxom fed those who could not yet afford to feed themselves, as well as the city’s growing number of soldiers. He still felt strange taking things from others, but Celia, who had taken on the role of steward, assured him this was how things must be done if they were to support a growing city. The city itself had undergone dramatic changes. Once empty streets now thronged with people, and many run-down buildings had been restored to their former glory. In the palace, workers rebuilt falling walls and replaced rotting beams with freshly cut wood from the Teriken Forest. Jaxom had ordered a true road created through the dense woods to the now burgeoning town of Chams’dell. The road allowed refugees and transplants from across Ale’adaria safe travel to the city. The wolves that had once inhabited the area had fled as men began to reclaim it, but the durgen had proved too vicious to scare off. Terika’s soldiers had been forced to put them down, and the death mages had transformed them into the winged version that Adriana and her riders now used as mounts.

  Climbing the stone stairs from the depths of the palace, Jaxom passed servants hurrying about their routines. Each one stopped briefly and bowed to him as they passed. The show of respect still made him uncomfortable. Celia had hired many of the refugees with experience serving in noble and rich merchant houses to staff the palace. She had also employed the younger sons of holding nobles who would not inherit their fathers’ lands or title. These young educated men now ran the day-to-day operations of tax collections and food distribution throughout the city. As much as Jaxom knew she hated to admit it, Celia had been instructed well by her father in managing affairs of the people.

  Passing through bare halls, a situation that Celia vowed to fix once she had the time and could acquire the proper decorations, Jaxom emerged into a large courtyard where Alimar was training Laiden. He pulled his black cloak around himself against the cold autumn air. The firsts snows were only weeks away, and he already missed the warmth of summer. The fifteen-year-old former groom stood in front of Alimar with his arm stretched forward, his face pinched in concentration. From his hand, a thin column of white smoke struggled to extend a few more feet. Giving up, Laiden dropped his arm to his side in defeat. Alimar walked over to the young man and placed a hand on his shoulder. The older death mage spoke quietly into the boy’s ear. Whatever he said caused Laiden to perk up. Alimar noticed Jaxom then and gave him a slight nod of recognition. Laiden smiled and rushed over to him.

  “Did you see that? I almost had it. Magus Alimar says that I will be able to form the coil soon if I keep practicing,” Laiden said. The coil was what Alimar called the whip-like white smoke that he had used to ensnare Serin when the fire mage had betrayed them. Jaxom had learned the cast months ago. It was a useful spell to contain an adversary instead of killing them.

  “He’s right. You’re doing well, but you still have your lessons this afternoon with Master Battin,” Jaxom replied.

  The young man’s face took on a sour look. “I didn’t think that being a mage would mean spending so much time buried under books. What good are words when I have to face a shadow priest?”

  “You’re not a mage yet. You’re an apprentice, and this is part of what becoming a mage is,” Jaxom said. Laiden gave a look of disgust, but nodded stubbornly. “Now get on with it, or you’ll end up staying late again.”

  As the young man stomped into the palace, Alimar approached wearing his usual calm expression. Jaxom was still amazed at the similarities in their appearance. The other mage seemed an older version of himself. Both men had black hair and the same sharp facial features. The difference being that Jaxom was broader in the shoulders and more heavily muscled from years of swinging a sword, and though both had dark eyes, Alimar’s seemed harder and less sympathetic than those Jaxom saw in the mirror. Laiden, on the other hand, was small for his age with innocent brown eyes. The one feature all the death mages shared was the night-black hair, as if they were all part of some extended family, which Jaxom guessed they were, in a sense.

  “How are the stones coming?” Alimar asked.

  Jaxom untied the small pouch from his belt and tossed it to the other man. “As well as expected. They take hours to create.”

  “When the time comes, you will be glad we have them,” Alimar replied, emptying the contents of the pouch into his hand. “Two of these can be placed in the two durgen I just finished. Adriana should be pleased. She has been hounding me about more mounts for weeks now.”

  “I know. Since Corin placed her in charge of the riders, she thinks they are the key to winning,” Jaxom said.

  “Well part of the answer anyway. She h
as eighteen of them now, with four more trained riders waiting to receive theirs.” He laughed then, an uncommon occurrence for the man. “She even suggested that I give up mine. If you would spend more time with me learning how to create them properly, we might be able to meet her demands.”

  “She wanted me to let one of her riders use my durgen as well, but I have no desire to spend weeks riding on horseback when Corin wants to talk to me,” Jaxom said wearily. “I know that I need to spend more time perfecting their creation, but there are not enough hours in the day for all that needs to be done.” Up to now, Jaxom had only been able to perform the intricate process of altering the durgen’s form with Alimar’s help. “What about Kasric? Have you been teaching him?”

  “Kasric seems to have a knack with creating risen, but he is older than I. He has used his magic so little over the years that I am afraid it may be too late for him. In truth, the reason I even agreed to accept him as an apprentice was because we have to start somewhere,” Alimar said.

  Kasric was one of the two others they had found. He was, as Alimar had said, perhaps too old to reach the potential he may have achieved when he was younger. He had spent most of his life as a one wagon traveling merchant, only using his magic when he had no other choice. He had lived in fear of discovery, for good reason. Here, he was encouraged to learn and practice magic. The other apprentice was a young woman named Lexa, who was only a year older than Laiden. She had taken to magic like a bird to the air, quickly grasping the casts and even dabbling with enchantment, but she was not experienced enough to help with the durgen or even the animation stones.

  “When I have the time, I will be sure to visit you,” Jaxom said.

  “As you wish. Finding more apprentices must be a priority. Or’Keer and the other gods know what we are doing, and the rest of the world is slowly learning as well. If we do not gain more strength, those who would stop us will attack before we are ready,” Alimar said.

  “I have been searching,” Jaxom replied, feeling guilty for the half-truth.

  In actuality, there had been very little time to look for more. When they had returned to the city, the two men had agreed that Alimar would see to a majority of the training and creation of weapons, while Jaxom would be responsible for running the city and finding more apprentices. The former had taken up far more of his time then he had anticipated, leaving very little for the latter. Even with Celia’s help, there were so many decisions to be made. Hours would pass while he decided where to place the newest refugees, which part of the city to rebuild, and how much of their limited supplies to commit to those efforts. And then there were the trips to Ale’adar to give Corin updates on his progress and to learn what was happening in the rest of the kingdoms. He was scheduled to go again tomorrow.

  “Very well, I am due to meet with Lexa for her daily training now,” Alimar said bringing Jaxom out of his thoughts. “Just remember, our enemies will not wait until we are prepared before they attack us.” Jaxom nodded as Alimar followed Laiden inside.

  Deciding to take a ride through the city to remind himself why he was doing all this, he acquired a horse from the stables and left the palace through the main gate. The larger houses near the palace were still mostly empty, waiting for more nobles and wealthy citizens to purchase them. At first, Jaxom had disagreed with Celia that they should be priced so high, but as usual, he had deferred to her judgement in the matter. She had said that eventually more nobles and the wealthy would want homes in the city. As it stood now, only a few had been purchased and were being restored. He passed by them and emerged into the inner part of the city where he found the bustle of life. He heard the sound of talking and hammering while taking in the scent of baking bread and cooking meat. Many of the previously empty shops lining the avenue were now occupied. He passed a smithy where a heavyset man swung hammer to anvil as a young boy pumped the bellows. A shop window displayed wooden mannequins dressed in the tailor’s finest creations. There was even a jeweler displaying simple pieces through a newly replaced window.

  Jaxom still wore the simple, unadorned black clothing he had always worn, but people bowed to him, recognizing him as the lord of the city. The gesture of respect made him uncomfortable, but he still preferred it to the fearful looks he had received not so long ago. The stories of his deeds had spread, though some were now so embellished that even he did not recognize them.

  Turning down a side street, the scene changed from businesses to homes, with children playing in the small yards out front. Their mothers kept an eye on them while they went about their daily tasks, many stopping to look curiously when he passed. Horses were not yet common in the city. Most everyone who had come to Terika had lost everything fleeing their homes, and anyone who rode one of the expensive animals must be important. Jaxom was so absorbed watching the life of the reborn city that he did not noticed the durgen flying low along the street until it was right over his head. The risen animal briefly hovered, allowing Jaxom to see the rider dressed in tanned leathers peering down at him. The children grew excited, shouting and waving for the rider to land. Their mothers stood frozen, keeping one eye on their children and another on the terrifying creature. Seeing a durgen was common in the city, but people still feared them. Jaxom understood. The animated and transformed animals were frightening to look upon. The durgen were almost the size of a horse with black fur, muzzles full of sharp teeth, six thick legs ending in claws, and large black feathered wings that allowed them to swoop down on unsuspecting prey.

  Having found what he was looking for the, the rider swooped back toward the busy avenue. Sighing, Jaxom continued down the street, enjoying the few minutes of solitude left to him. A short time later, he heard the telltale sound of hooves on the cobblestone street. Without a word, his escort took up positions around him as if they had always been there. Celia, wearing her usual blue shirt and brown pants, rode up alongside him, matching his pace. Jaxom could not remember the last time he had seen her in a dress. He felt a small pang of regret, knowing that it symbolized the times they lived in. Maybe she would start wearing gowns again when Or’Keer was no longer a threat. Her long blond hair was swept up in her customary tight bun keeping if from the soft features of her face, and on her hip rested a sword sheathed in a scabbard tooled with a silver falcon, the symbol of Corin’s house.

  “I thought we had agreed that you would not take rides alone anymore,” she said evenly.

  “You said I should not ride alone. I never agreed not to,” Jaxom replied, matching her tone.

  Celia let out a long sigh, shaking her head slightly. “You are the lord of this city and have responsibilities to the people. Riding out by yourself only makes it that much easier for an enemy to strike a crippling blow.”

  “Even if I was attacked, I’m far from helpless. Besides, I’m just one mage.”

  “Who will rule here if you are killed? Alimar? The mages of Ale’adar are already unhappy with Corin placing you in charge here, and it’s complicating negotiations with the Southerners. Alimar taking over would make it far more difficult to form the alliances we need, if not completely impossible,” she said.

  She was right, of course.

  “You win,” Jaxom said. “I’ll take an escort from now on.”

  “As if there was ever any doubt,” she said, smirking.

  Jaxom shook his head, marveling at her never-ending confidence. She had changed so much since she first took command. “You didn’t need to come all the way out here to deliver the escort. What couldn’t wait?” he asked.

  “There has been an increase in crime. People have been robbed in the streets at night,” she said.

  It was bound to happen. Jaxom just had not given it much thought until now. All types of people were flooding into the city, including those who would prey upon others for their own gain. Street gangs would be forming, if they had not already. “Why are you bringing it to me? You’re more than capable of handling it.”

  “We obviously need to increase night
patrols. We can even use some of the new recruits as a part of their training. It would do them good to know how to do more than just fight. What I need you to tell me is how you want to deal with those they catch?”

  Jaxom sighed. Who was he to decide how to punish those who broke the law? He was not even sure he knew what all the laws were. “Anyone caught stealing from or assaulting another will spend a month in the dungeon, and the sentence will increase with each offense.” Jaxom knew that the palace had a dungeon, though he had never been there.

  “What about those who kill?”

  “There have been murders?” he asked, truly shocked. The thought that people could do such a thing when there was already so much death in the world was staggering.

  “Two that we know of,” she said. “The men murdered were the unsavory type. They probably had it coming, but we can’t ignore even those or all order will break down.”

  Jaxom ran a hand through his hair as he watched a pair of children scamper across their path. It was his job to protect these people, even from themselves. “They must have a trial. If they are found guilty, they are to be executed,” he said feeling sick.

  Celia nodded as if she had expected nothing else. “Would you like to be the one to oversee the trial?”

  He began to say yes, then stopped. He did not have the time while searching for mages to train, running the city, and preparing for war. “No, appoint a noble you know to be fair and just.”

  “As you command, My Lord,” she said with a smile.

  “And enough of that ‘My Lord’ stuff. I can barely take it with everyone else bowing and scraping every time they see me.” He now knew why Corin had always insisted that those close to him call him by his given name.

  “Very well, Jaxom. I have matters that need attending to back at the palace, so I will leave you alone,” she said. Jaxom gave her an incredulous look before leading her eyes to the six armed men around them. She shrugged her shoulders, chuckling.