Death Mage's Fury

by Jon Bender

  “Has there been any sign of Tandis?”

  “No, but we have heard that he is still in Kelran. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

  He could see her features harden. “I am not worried. He will pay for what he did to Warin.”

  Jaxom knew that she meant it, but he could not have her anger blocking her from seeing clearly. “Warin understands there are larger issues to deal with. He is not recklessly chasing after the prince for revenge, nor does he want you to on his behalf,” he said, looking hard at her.

  She turned to look at him, her long, unbound hair catching the gentle wind. “As you say, Magus,” she replied without emotion.

  Jaxom made a mental note to speak with Warin about his apprentice’s anger. They could not have her so blinded by it that she got herself hurt or worse. “Go help Darian. He is looking for the enemy near the edge of this town. I will join Da’san and Warin back at the camp to see how things are progressing there,” he said.

  The young woman nodded, and the durgen she had acquired from a fallen rider spread its large black wings to take to the air.

  Jaxom rode the short distance out of town to a small farm where the wounded were being gathered, commanding his risen soldiers and the emora to follow. Flying low, he saw wagons being loaded with the wounded in the temporary camp. Seeing his friends walking among the wounded, Jaxom angled his durgen to land nearby.

  “How are you doing?” he asked as he drew near and read the weariness in Da’san’s face. The constant healing was taking its toll.

  “As well as can be expected. I am helping where I can, but they just keep coming. I cannot save them all. Still, I do not like what you are doing with those who are beyond my help,” he said, glancing in Warin’s direction.

  The one-armed death mage was walking amongst the dead, reanimating those who were not too badly damaged. The wounds would be repaired before an animating stone was implanted. It was not a popular practice among the Kelrans, but most understood why it was necessary. Watching the other death mage work, Jaxom noticed how much healthier he now seemed. It had taken Warin five days to recover his strength and return to the fight with new determination. He refused to let his disability hinder his role as a mage, or his responsibility as Lexa’s mentor. Jaxom had been helping him find a way to replace his arm with magic, but progress was slow with something so complicated.

  “The town is almost won. After this, Dillion intends to let his men recoup as best they can before we push forward for the last time,” Jaxom said.

  “You said that four days ago.”

  “It’s the truth this time,” Jaxom said abashed.

  “You cannot keep telling me what I want to hear, Jaxom. It is not good for our friendship.”

  “Speaks the man who decided to keep secret the fact that I was a part of altering the world,” Jaxom shot back.

  “That was different,” Da’san said, rolling his eyes. “And I thought we had put that behind us.”

  “I have forgiven you for it, but you are going to have deal with me needling you for years to come,” Jaxom said smiling.

  Da’san let out a long sigh. “I guessed as much.”

  Jaxom looked away at the sound of pounding hooves approaching. Coming from the direction of the town, he saw a large group of Calvary riding towards them. At its center were Dillion and Enrick.

  “The town is ours,” Dillion said, climbing down from his saddle. “The dogs are running north again, and I have sent your lady and her men to harass them. Lord Enrick has advised me against pursuing further into the forest before we have regrouped.”

  “It is likely that the enemy will set up ambushes for our men who will be too distracted by the chase to be wary of them. It is what I would do,” Enrick said tiredly.

  “But I do not like the idea of allowing them to retreat so they can regroup and counter-attack,” Dillion said.

  “Counter-attack, Your Majesty?” Warin asked, joining them. His black cloak covered his missing arm, but it was still apparent that the limb was no longer there.

  “The bastards have gathered every man still loyal to the dark god just a ten-day’s march from here. As we suspected, the soldiers who have come back to our side reported that these small skirmishes were tactics to buy time. They have been preparing to meet us in full battle,” Dillion said.

  “There is nothing that far north besides thick forest,” Jaxom said, concerned. They outnumbered Tandis’s forces by a considerable number, but fighting a large-scale battle in the dense woods could turn things against them. They had only seen a few of the shades and priests since they began the campaign. Jaxom could only assume Tandis was saving them for an opportunity when they could do the most damage.

  “Do not worry, my death mage friend. Kelrans have been fighting in our forests for generations. We know how conduct such a war,” Dillion said, dismissing Jaxom’s doubts.

  “As you say, Your Majesty,” Jaxom said, not convinced. Jaxom did not like meeting the enemy on their terms, but he could not see any way to avoid it.

  “Good,” the king said. “We could use some more information on their disposition, and I have heard from Da’san here that you two have a way of getting information from the dead.”

  Warin and Jaxom shared a look before both turned to regard the priest. “I am glad to know that Da’san has been so open with our capabilities,” Jaxom said.

  Da’san shrugged without a shred of embarrassment. The last time Jaxom had attempted to view the memories of a dark priest, things had gone badly. Or’Keer had somehow been able to sense him and had sent a shadow creature to attack Jaxom.

  “Do not blame him. I asked if there was any way Sarinsha could help us determine how large a force we face. He said that the goddess does not work in such ways but that you could discover what we need to know,” Dillion said.

  “I will do it, but we have to wait until we are sure the last of the enemy are gone from here. Also, I will want others nearby in case things go wrong,” he said.

  “Of course,” Dillion said.

  After the king and his entourage left, Jaxom and Warin left Da’san to his work. Leaving his durgen in the camp, they walked a short distance from the farm. “Are you really going to look into the mind of one of their priests?” Warin asked.

  “We could use the information. Knowing that Or’Keer may be watching will help me avoid him this time,” Jaxom said.

  “If you think it worth the risk…” Warin sounded unsure.

  “We have time while Enrick sweeps the surrounding area, so we might as well work on your arm,” Jaxom said, changing the subject.

  “Fine, but I do not see how it will do me any good. If I need your help to create it every time, what use is it?” he asked. The disappointment at the repeated failed attempts were starting to wear on the man.

  “I am doing less every time we try. If you had spent more time practicing the bone armor, you would probably be able to do it alone by now,” Jaxom said

  “Let’s just get started.” Warin threw back his cloak to reveal the missing right arm. Lexa had altered his clothes to remove the unnecessary sleeves from his shirts and jackets so they would not impede him, revealing yet another skill that neither of the men had known she possessed.

  “I will help you form them into the proper shape, but this time you must bind them alone,” Jaxom said, raising his hand above the ground.

  Warin nodded. Both men cast into the ground, pulling bones of dead creatures from the earth to float between them. When they had gathered enough, the two mages began placing them on Warin’s body. First, they formed the harness that wrapped around his torso and opposite shoulder. Bones covered his chest and back as they did when Jaxom created the armor for himself. Jaxom secured the whole assembly with a skull of a large cat, possibly an emora, on the good shoulder to balance the arrangement. Jaxom held them in place until he was sure Warin had bound them together on his own.

  “Well, now that the easy part is done…” Warin said, before beg
inning to form an arm to the socket of the harness.

  Using thicker pieces to create the core of the replacement limb, the two men began to build something closely resembling a flesh and blood arm, snapping smaller bones in pieces and settling them between larger ones to fill gaps. Jaxom was putting the final additions on the elbow, ensuring the joint would function properly, when he noticed that Warin had already finished the wrist and was forming the hand. Letting the man continue without aid, he watched, impressed, as the hand came together. Each boney finger ended in a large cat’s claw.

  The arm complete, Jaxom took a deep breath and released his magic, leaving Warin to hold the construct together by himself. The limb did not break apart as it had in the past, but he could see the strain on his friend’s face at holding it alone.

  “Nice touch with claws.”

  “I thought if I was going to create a new arm, I might as well try and make it better than the last one,” he replied with a smile.

  “You want to try it?” Jaxom asked.

  Warin nodded, lifting the arm from his side and holding it level with the ground. Palm held towards the grey sky, the clawed fingers curled to form a fist before relaxing again. Even in the cold air, beads of sweat began to form on his brow as he went through a series of movements, lifting the arm above his head then bending to pick up a handful of snow. The white powder fell from the boney grasp. Jaxom could see his face relax as it became easier for him to maintain the arm. Drawing his sword, Jaxom offered the pommel to the man. Looking at the sword with apprehension, Warin finally reached out to take the blade. Setting himself into a fighting position with both hands on the grip, he stumbled through the strikes and blocks Jaxom had shown him weeks ago. None of the moves were quite right, but he managed to get through them. When finished, he gave the blade back with a grin.

  “It will take time, but I will become accustomed to it. I only wish we knew an enchantment that would hold it together without a constant flow of energy,” Warin said, lifting the hand for closer inspection.

  “We can discuss it with Alimar once we get back to Terika. Perhaps the three of us can find a way. Or maybe there is something in one of those books Alimar keeps locked away that can help.”

  “I hope so,” he said, pulling his cloak around him and hiding the arm. “Having to maintain this will limit my other casts.”

  “Speaking of which, can you use it to cast?” Jaxom asked.

  “I think I will wait until I am more comfortable with it, like you are with your armor,” Warin replied.

  “It took practice for me to master the armor. With time, you will construct it faster and sustain the bonds with ease,” Jaxom said. A pair of durgen flying overhead reminded him of the conversation with Lexa. “We need to talk about your apprentice.”

  Warin perked up at the mention of Lexa. “What about her?”

  “You need to speak with her about Tandis. I think she intends to be the one to face him and take revenge for you,” Jaxom said, his face grave.

  Warin shook his head and smiled. “I have wondered what it would be like to have children. I assume it is something similar to having an apprentice. Though I never thought it would be so problematic. She took my injury far harder than I did.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “While I was healing, do you remember how she hardly left my side?” Warin asked. Jaxom nodded. On occasion, Jaxom had even been forced to make her eat because she was neglecting herself to see to her mentor’s needs. “While I was recovering, we talked a lot. She told me how much she feared I was going to die. For her, it would be like losing her parents all over again.”

  “I didn’t realize you had become so close,” Jaxom said.

  “I don’t think we had either, until this,” he said, lifting the bone-made arm. “I believe that’s why she wants to find Tandis so badly. She may think she is protecting me if she kills him. I will speak to her about it, and let her know that I don’t need protection. The little whelp just caught me off guard. It won’t happen again.”

  The two men made their way back to the loyal Kelran camp. It was late into the evening when Enrick declared that the enemy had fled, and that the town was safe to occupy. The people that had lived there had been driven out long ago or converted to worshiping Or’Keer, leaving the buildings empty.

  That night, Jaxom returned with his friends and Enrick to the small shop where his risen had killed the priest. The emora hunched in one corner, its fur returned to a normal grey. On the table lay the body of the dark priest whose throat Jaxom had ripped out while controlling the risen. Jaxom had used the stones to animate the two shades, and Enrick had asked why he had not done so with the priest. Jaxom explained that he had tried previously, but the power of a priest did not come from within. They had to pray to achieve their type of casting, and the gods would not answer the prayers of a man they knew to be dead. Lexa watched intently as Jaxom placed a hand on the dead man’s head. He had told both her and Warin how the cast worked. Just because he was about to risk his life, he could see no reason not to share the knowledge. Jaxom formed the energy of death into a cast that traveled down his arm to the priest. The flow of power connected their two minds, and flashes of memories came so quickly Jaxom was forced to concentrate and bring them into order.

  He was in a small village looking about at the faces of people who lived there. Before him knelt a sobbing man. Knowing how this scene would end, he willed the memories forward in time. Jaxom found himself praying as half a dozen Kelran soldiers charged towards him in the middle of a street. Jaxom finished the prayer, summoning a bearlike creature on four thick legs. The soldiers did not hesitate in attacking the shadow creature, hacking and slashing its thick hide. As the summoned bear mauled one of the soldiers, Jaxom saw more Kelrans running down the street to aid their fellows. He turned on his heel and ran in the other direction, black robes flying out behind him.

  Jaxom pushed the memories forward again and found what he was looking for. He was sitting on a horse next to two other priests, watching a column of soldiers and commoners, many armed with scavenged weapons. Most of them lacked proper winter clothing or boots. Jaxom could feel the faithful shadowing the army from the trees. The shades did not like direct sunlight. Fewer than a hundred of them remained with no time to create more. Dillion was moving far more quickly than Tandis had expected. The king reclaimed one town or village after the next, and those left behind to meet his forces barely slowed the advance. Among the column were forty of his brother priests, a mere fraction of what their numbers were before the cursed death mage had come.

  Jaxom found it odd to be thinking about himself with such hate and struggled to separate his thoughts from the dark priest’s. Instead of concentrating on what the man was feeling, Jaxom focused on what he saw. Trying to estimate how many men passed before him. At the pace they were moving, and how far the column stretched, he thought the amount to be less than half of what Dillion commanded and mostly composed of untrained and poorly equipped commoners. Coming from the front of the column, he could make out Tandis. The prince was dressed in finely made clothes and wore a look of superiority as he watched the marching men pass.

  “We are approaching a town. You and your brothers are to find those who will serve our lord and dispose of the rest,” Tandis said when he arrived.

  “As you say, Chosen One,” Jaxom heard himself say before giving a small bow from his saddle. Fury welled inside the priest, who clearly blamed Tandis for their current situation. If he had not lost control of the king and fled, their god would not be losing the power provided by this kingdom.

  “You will be among those who stay behind to slow my father and buy time for the forces of our god to prepare,” Tandis said.

  The memory was interrupted when Jaxom felt another powerful presence begin to join him in the mind of the dead priest. Pulling his consciousness back, Jaxom retreated to his own body. The sudden shift left him feeling disoriented. The others stared at him with unease. They all
knew what had happened the last time Jaxom had touched the mind of one who served Or’Keer. He was sure the mages were all holding onto their power, prepared to react should anything appear to attack them.

  “Well?” Darian asked, breaking the silence. “Did he find you?”

  “I think he knew I was looking but I withdrew just in time,” Jaxom said.

  “How do you know?” Enrick asked.

  “We’re not screaming and fighting for our lives,” Jaxom said.

  “Did you learn anything?” Enrick asked, with relief in his voice.

  “It is as we expected. We have greater numbers, and a large portion of their force are poorly equipped conscriptions. There are still a number of priests and shades with them as well,” Jaxom said.

  “What about Tandis?” Lexa asked.

  “He is with them.” Jaxom said carefully, gaging her reaction. He was pleased to see her features remain calm. Warin must have already spoken to her.

  “The king will be happy to know that Tandis is in such bad shape,” Enrick said.

  “The prince still has many priests and shades with him, and we have only those in this room to match them,” Da’san said.

  “Does it matter? We are going to finish this,” Darian said.

  “We still need to know what we are facing,” Adriana stated.

  “Even if Tandis had ten men for every one of ours, we would still attack. We cannot stop until those loyal to Or’Keer are gone from Kelran,” Enrick declared.

  “And we will stay until that happens,” Darian said.

  “Of course, you will owe us,” Jaxom said, smiling.

  “King Dillion and I are both aware of the debt. We will do everything we can to repay it,” the Bandit Lord said without humor before taking his leave.

  The next day, Jaxom woke as the dawn light made its way through a small window. Adriana had rolled away from him in the night, allowing him to climb out of bed without waking her. Dressing quietly, he buckled on his sword belt and commanded the emora to follow him out. Downstairs, Lexa stood by the small wood stove, cooking salted pork. The smell of fresh biscuits baking made his mouth water. She must have found the flour somewhere in the house as grain not something normally carried by an army on the move.