Death Mage's Fury

by Jon Bender

  Releasing her cast, she left the stables to do as he had asked. “You might as well kill me now. I won’t betray anyone to a dark priest no matter who you bring here,” Saerus said.

  “I am not a priest,” Jaxom said.

  “Then how are you holding me?” he asked, struggling again.

  “I am a mage,” Jaxom explained.

  “You lie. No mages can do this,” he said, indicating the coil. Of course, the man had never seen a death mage’s magic before.

  “Stay calm. Your friend will be able to explain when he gets here,” Jaxom said.

  “Larrum is no friend of mine if he is handing people over to dark priests,” Saerus said.

  Jaxom sighed, not responding to the bound man’s continuous defiance. A few minutes later, Lexa returned with the innkeeper and Da’san. When Larrum saw the coil extending from Jaxom’s hand to Searus, he inhaled sharply, stepping back to the door. The large man’s retreat stopped when he ran into Da’san, who laid a hand on his shoulder. Calmed by the priest’s assurance, Larrum moved further in where Saerus could see him from his position on the ground.

  “Gods curse you, Larrum!” Searus yelled. “How could you turn me over to them?”

  “You don’t understand. This is a priest of Sarinsha,” Larrum said, indicating Da’san. “They are here to help.”

  Searus looked at Da’san, considering the other man’s words. “How can I know that’s true? He could just be another informer dressed in blue cloth.”

  Da’san began to chant in a low tone. When he completed the prayer, a glowing hand twice as large as a man’s formed in the air near Jaxom. The hand moved forward, gripping the length of Jaxom’s coil between the death mage and Searus. Squeezing, it began to crush the coil in its fist until it broke the cast completely. The part of Jaxom’s cast wrapped around the man dissipated, freeing him. With his magic cut off, Jaxom took a step back as Saerus rolled to his feet and looked at the four with suspicion.

  “Please, Saerus,” Larrum said. You know what that informer found in Kree’a’s room, and what will happen to us when the dark priests return. If you know where the rebels are, tell us so they can help us to hide or get away.”

  “I believe he is a priest of Sarinsha,” Saerus said. “But that does not mean these two are mages. I have never heard of any school that could do what they did.”

  “They are death mages” Da’san said. “There are very few of them, so it is not surprising that you have never seen their type of magic before. If they were dark priests, do you think I would be with them?”

  The name of Jaxom’s and Lexa’s school seemed to shock the man, a look of recognition coming over his face. “The mages from Ale’adaria?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Jaxom answered.

  “I have heard of you. Rumors say that you were responsible for forcing the dark god from your kingdom,” Saerus said.

  “I had a part of pushing Or’Keer out, but I didn’t do it alone. My friend Da’san also helped, along with many others,” Jaxom said.

  “Many of us hoped that the King of Ale’adaria would come to help us fight, but few believed it would ever happen. How many of you are there?” he asked.

  “We will get to that,” Jaxom said. “Do you know the Bandit Lord? Can you take us to him?”

  “His name is Enrick, and he does not like that title,” Saerus said. “I can’t take you directly to him. The truth is I have never actually met him, but others will know.”

  “Good, we are leaving now. Larrum, get your sister and pack your horses,” Jaxom said before meeting Searus’s eyes. “I do not think you will be coming back here either. The informers will already know about Da’san and us. When you are seen departing with us, they will likely report your name as well.”

  “I will need to gather some things from my house,” Searus said.

  “Lexa will go with you to make sure you get back here safely,” Jaxom said.

  Searus looked to the apprentice with obvious doubt in his eyes. Lexa hardened her eyes at the man and held out her hand palm up. The swirling black and white smoke of the blight began to flow over her fingers to pool on the ground near her feet. When she released the energy, the blight disappeared, leaving a spot of blackened ground where it had been.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said, giving him an innocent smile. Jaxom was not sure if she meant others would not harm him, or that she would not. From the look on Saerus’s face, he was not so sure either.

  While Lexa went with Saerus, Da’san and Jaxom helped Larrum get the four horses saddled and loaded down with supplies. By the time Lexa returned, they had finished tying down the last bag. Their preparations had not gone unnoticed. People who must have known Larrum and his sister walked by, watching them prepare to leave town with strangers. Saerus, who had been dressed in common work clothes, now wore a sheathed sword at his hip and a brown hooded cloak. He carried a pack with sleeping roll tied down over the top, the contents of which he then evenly distributed in saddlebags. Jaxom had convinced Larrum to saddle the third horse to carry more of their possessions. He explained that there would be times when they had to move quickly, and he had no extra horse for Saerus. The innkeeper had grudgingly agreed. Jaxom could understand the man wanting to take as much as he could. Larrum and his sister were already giving up the inn, a business that had probably been in their family for generations. Jaxom hoped that one day when this was over, they would be able to return and claim what was theirs.

  When the small group left town, he, Lexa, and Da’san were still on foot. They followed the road until they were out of sight then Jaxom turned them into the woods, back to where their small force had set up camp. A short time later, Saerus dismounted to walk his horse next to Jaxom and Da’san.

  “How many men did you bring with you?” Saerus asked.

  “One hundred mounted men,” he said.

  “Only one hundred? Dillion has near to sixty thousand!” Saerus exclaimed.

  “We are here to help the rebels fight, not fight for them. King Corin could not commit his entire force to a winter campaign. Kelran is not the only kingdom suffering under the influence of Or’Keer,” Jaxom said. “How many men does Enrick have?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Saerus, said running a hand over his short hair, the disappointment evident on his face. “We stay spread out, so Dillion and the priests cannot easily strike at us. Maybe eight thousand? None of them are as well trained or armed as the soldiers.” Jaxom had hoped for better news but was not surprised. He would have to meet with Enrick before he decided on a plan to remove King Dillion from the Kelran throne. “Besides you two, how many other mages?” Saerus asked.

  “Two others are waiting for us back at our camp,” Jaxom replied. “How about the Kelran mages? Larrum did not seem to know much about what happened to them.”

  “Dillion has a few who still serve him, but most left when they realized what was happening,” he said. That was a small bit of luck. Jaxom had every intention of avoiding even those few mages if possible. The dark priests and the shades would be difficult enough.

  The group remained quiet for the rest of the trek until they ran into the first guard. The rider sat on his durgen in a small depression that hid him from sight. When Jaxom and his party came close enough to be heard, he rushed his six-legged mount into the open to confront them. The creature scared the three newcomers. Saerus drew his sword and came into a fighting stance. Recognizing Jaxom, the rider saluted before returning to his hidden spot.

  “What was that?” Larrum demanded, his voice shaking.

  “It’s called a durgen. We created them,” Lexa answered.

  “It had wings. Can it fly?” Saerus said.

  “Of course, it can fly. What would be the point of wings if it couldn’t?” she said.

  “With those creatures, Dillion’s soldiers would not be able to stand against us,” Saerus said, gazing back at the rider with excitement.

  “Which is why we brou
ght them,” Lexa said rolling her eyes.

  “That’s enough, Lexa,” Jaxom said firmly. The apprentice looked away embarrassed at being scolded in front of their guests. It was good that she was becoming more confident, but arrogance would only get her into trouble.

  They smelled wood smoke from the cooking fires before they saw the camp. When the group came to the edge of the tents, Adriana stood from tending one of the small pots of food. She smiled and walked over, wrapping Jaxom in a hug.

  “It seems you were successful,” Adriana said, looking at the three he had brought with him.

  “Not yet, but hopefully soon,” he said, smiling.

  Chapter 14

  The city of Mendon was in sight. Even from this distance, Cribble could see the large breaches in the wall surrounding it. Tomorrow, Tamrick and the two other mages would destroy the repairs that Tamn had made to its defenses, allowing Cribble and his three thousand men to march in and kill the bastard. To deprive Cribble’s small army of comfort and supplies, the warlord had ordered his soldiers to burn the towns that lay along the wide road to the city. Many people had died in those fires, and even Brenin’s riders could not reach them in time. Those who survived were now without shelter or supplies for the winter. Cribble had given what aid he could, but there were too many to care for. He could not weaken his own men to help them all. He had told the survivors to find shelter in other towns and villages, or head to Ale’adaria where they would be relocated to Terika. The best thing he could do for them was to kill the man who thought nothing of killing innocents, thought nothing of killing children. Cribble had never known true hatred in battle, but he felt it now. It was a feeling he and all those with him shared after what they had seen. The small charred bodies of children who could not escape the buildings as they burned. Mothers covering their babes in a futile effort protect them.

  “The men are settled for the night,” Jerup said.

  “Good. Make sure the captains know that their units are to rest as much as possible. Cut all duties down to the minimum. I want them fresh for tomorrow,” Cribble said.

  Jerup nodded, likely having already seen to it. “Brenin’s riders are back from scouting. They were unable to get an accurate count, but they estimate Tamn’s men at double our own number.”

  Cribble spit on the ground. “It doesn’t matter. We’re going in. Make sure the men know that there are commoners in the city.”

  “You will need to get some rest as well,” Jerup said.

  “I remember promoting you to captain, not my mother,” Cribble replied.

  “I doubt you listened to your mother any more than you listen to me,” he said, shaking his head.

  Jerup was the only one Cribble let get away with talking to him in that manner. He trusted the man, would even call him a friend, and he doubted chastising him would have stopped him anyway.

  “Just get it done, Jerup.” The captain saluted and moved back into the camp. Cribble took one more look at the city before following.

  The next day, the sun was shining and reflecting off the white of the snow, forcing him to squint. It was a beautiful day, not that Cribble ever thought of days as beautiful or ugly. The only thing he noticed about the weather was how well he could fight in it. Attacking a city was always dirty business. Once inside, things would become confused and chaotic very quickly. The plan Cribble had laid out for his captains was as simple as he could make it, while still allowing for flexibility. The mages would tear down a section of the rebuilt wall, large enough to fit over a hundred men standing shoulder to shoulder. From there, they would move directly for the palace, smaller units flanking the main body and riders covering them from the air. He had instructed Brenin to leave two riders out of the coming fight to watch for any groups fleeing the city. Cribble hoped Tamn would stand and fight, but he would not put it past the man to use cowardly tactics.

  “We are in position,” Brenin said from atop his durgen.

  “Clear the sections of wall to either side of the area. I want as few men as possible shooting arrows down on us as we enter the city,” Cribble said. The young captain saluted and took to the air where he was joined by his riders. Cribble watched as they began circling above the wall, firing arrows into the defenseless men below.

  “Tamrick, would you and your friends remove that pathetic excuse for a barrier?” Cribble asked the man.

  Tamrick nodded before kicking his horse into motion, the fire and storm mages following to either side of him. The three mages stopped their horses out of bow range, but several arrows landed in front of them anyway. The militia who had fired were quickly spotted by the riders and taken down instantly. The mages raised their hands. The storm mage created a whirlwind that sped towards the wall as the fire mage hurled large balls of flame. Their impact threw large chunks of stone into the air. At the base of the wall, large vines sprouted and began climbing and burrowing through the spaces in the granite. The magical attack continued for a handful of minutes before the wall collapsed. When the dust settled, the hole created was larger than what Cribble had asked for. Tamrick and his mages left nothing to chance.

  Cribble drew his sword and waved it forward, signaling for the men to advance. Battle horns blew throughout the small army, and the front line advanced steadily towards the breach. They moved at a slow pace, saving their energy for the last few yards. The three mages waited for the soldiers to pass. When Cribble reached them, Tamrick nodded to the other mages, who then moved off to the flanks.

  “Are you expecting them to fight to the end?” Tamrick asked.

  “No. Once the fighting becomes bloody, many will break and run. I doubt they have any real loyalty to this Tamn. They are just thugs and bandits,” Cribble said, spitting on the ground.

  “What about Tamn himself?”

  “I don’t know. He may stay or flee. Either way, we will find him,” Cribble said. Tamrick watched as the first line of Ale’adarian soldiers began climbing over the rubble.

  Cribble knew this would be the most dangerous part. His men were vulnerable on the uneven ground, but thanks to Brenin, only a few arrows found his men. Those responsible for shooting were quickly brought down by the riders. Cribble could not see over the hill of broken stone, even from the vantage of his horse. There was a roar as hundreds of voices filled the air in anger. His men at the top of the hill charged down into the city. Jerup would be at the front leading that charge. Cribble’s role was to direct the fight, a task made easier from where he was now, just behind the advancing soldiers.

  “I am going to the front, if you would care to join me,” he said to Tamrick.

  “Gladly. I can’t see enough to be of any help back here,” the mage replied.

  Cribble kicked his horse to a faster pace and Tamrick fell in beside him. They carefully squeezed past the men climbing the rubble, ensuring their horses had sure footing the entire way. From atop the rubble, he could see that his men had already claimed the ground at the bottom, fanning out in a half circle. The militia were surprisingly holding their ground, but it was costing them to do so. For every one of the soldiers who fell, three of the militia went down with him. Looking past the front line, Cribble could see the press of the defenders and then he understood why the men at the front were not falling back. There was nowhere for them to retreat to.

  “We need to break up the men in back if we are going to make it deeper into the city,” Cribble said.

  “I will handle it,” Tamrick replied.

  Not waiting to see what the mage did, Cribble moved his horse down the slope to the front. Pushing his way forward, he found his first target. The man was startled at seeing a mounted foe. Cribble thrust with his sword at the man, an attack that anyone properly trained could have turned aside. Cribble’s sword pierced flesh just above the collarbone, slicing down into his chest and heart. Pulling the blade free, Cribble switched to the other side of his horse, hacking the face of another who was attempting to skewer him with a spear. The man behind the dead spea
r holder stepped forward, swinging a sword at Cribble’s leg. Parrying the blow, Cribble reversed his blade to cut across the newest opponent’s chest.

  Looking over the heads of the militia, Cribble saw three strange plants amongst the enemy ranks. The one directly in front of him sported red pods the size of a man’s head attached to a thick green trunk. A member of the militia bumped into one of those pods, and it sprang open, revealing a purple flower. As the blossom opened, it released a fine golden pollen. The man who had touched it started to choke on the golden dust, along with three others nearby. Soon, more of the pods opened, filling the air around the plant with more of the pollen. Those close to the plant dropped to their knees, struggling for breath. The second plant was laying into militia with four barbed vines that whipped about. The militia’s poorly made armor barely slowed the deadly spikes. The last plant was Cribble’s favorite. It launched two-inch thorns from a dozen spout-like branches. A rapid succession of four fireballs slammed into the enemy ranks, sending men into the air and shredding bodies. Then the militia broke. A few at the back turned to run, then more joined in the flight. The fire mage continued to rain down destruction as Tamrick controlled a half dozen vines. The snake-like plants creeping along the ground grabbed men as they fled. Wrapping around the limbs of fallen men, the vines burrowed into flesh. It was a horrible way to die, but nothing less than what they deserved, as far as Cribble was concerned.

  The fight turned into a rout as the militia broke away in large groups. Soon, Cribble’s soldiers were pushing forward, slaughtering the enemy as they ran. Bringing a horn to his lips, he blew the signal to reform. They had a goal, and he was determined to reach it.

  With his force back in organized formation, Cribble blew the horn again ordering them forward. The narrow streets of the city forced them to separate into smaller groups, but his captains had known this and were prepared for it. Overhead the durgen flew about, firing arrows wherever they saw a clear target or alerting the soldiers on the ground to groups of militia waiting to ambush them.