Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus)

by Wigboldy Jr, Donald

  He nodded.

  “Do you hate him for leaving you?”

  Thinking a moment on how he viewed Sebastian, a cadet who had been in the same situation as he, though leadership had been thrust on the mizard in that circumstance. The two had been the only magic casters left healthy enough to slow the enemy and have a chance to escape. It would have worked if Atrouseon and the other warlocks, along with their werewolves, hadn’t been there to keep pace despite Sebastian having leant his magic to the horses they rode to continue running for what seemed like a full day. A fireball from the pursuing warlocks had caused his horse to stumble as he moved from a flagging animal to his spare. The fall had broken his neck; he thought suddenly rubbing the base subconsciously. There was nothing the battle mage could have done with the enemy chasing them. He knew how to heal, but the enemy wouldn’t give him the time.

  “I thought that I hated him,” Palose confessed thinking back to that day in the halls beneath Windmeer. Not only had he cheered on the beasts trying to kill the mage, but he had given the order to finish him off. He had done so with revenge in his heart, just like he wanted Windmeer to suffer as he had for the country. “He couldn’t have saved me, so I guess that has died away too. Ensolus gives me a place to grow and one day I might gain the power that I can see just beyond my fingers.”

  Looking at the two before him, even with their power suppressed, his eyes could see the magic like threads on their skin which could be pulled into him. He noted Acheri’s face looking at him curiously as if his eyes had betrayed him in some way.

  “Kolban wants to see you grow into that power. Believe it or not he does, and I certainly would like to see you get your rewards,” the girl stated with a smile. “Keep up with your research and perhaps someday that power will be yours.”

  As if the conversation were suddenly over having been fulfilled; Acheri added, “I have other obligations required of me besides overseeing the exodus to the fortress, but we will see you tomorrow morning for Lanquer’s training, won’t we?”

  “Of course, my lady,” Palose stated faithfully with a slight bow of his head which made Lanquer look satisfied, but made the girl giggle covering her mouth with her fingers as if she were shy.

  “It’s ‘my lady’ now? You can always call me Acheri, mage,” she said turning formally to his old title. “We’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  Palose was left to consider what he had been forced to give away. None of the secrets were significant, but one thing came back to his mind that had surprised even him. While he had felt the need for revenge against Southwall and Sebastian for abandoning him to die, his memories told him that there had been nothing left to save. He had died, which led to his return by Atrouseon, a rare necromancer who had been visiting one of the tribes of nomads under the emperor’s thumb. His new life had been given and he had done his duty to Ensolus in giving up the castle.

  Feeling for that anger and need for revenge he once felt, Palose realized that it was all gone. He didn’t feel a need to return to Southwall. He would have been labeled a traitor anyway, so that was not likely to be possible at least where he was known. No, Ensolus was already beginning to feel like home and his new power was leading towards a possible position of greatness. The emperor was watching over him, for good or ill. Who else could say as much?

  He hurried east drawing his stealth spell for awhile before reaching heavier traffic near the orc markets. If he hurried to his home, the mage could still travel several miles before going to the library. A sudden thought of Sylvaine sent so far away, and Selvor as well, crept into his mind and he wondered why he still felt the need to hurry back.

  Shaking the thought aside, Palose found his way back to the hideout and put on his heavy jacket and gloves before using a portal once more.

  Snow was on the air as Palose stood on the final hill looking out on Windmeer’s walls. Sylvaine and the rest of Ensolus’s forces had left two days beforehand and though he could have finished walking down to the city two days ago, the mage had returned to stand looking down on the fortress city and its villages to the south each day.

  Today was different from the previous two. Today a shadowed line created by hundreds of horses’ hooves in the snow led straight up his hill extending behind him becoming lost after climbing each successive rise. Windmeer was on the move and it took little for him to guess their goal. He left his touchstone on the hill and started down through the trampled snow towards the castle. With more than half their standing army on their way to the mountain fortress, the guardian city wouldn’t be expecting someone like him to return home from the same path.

  The mage made good time thanks to the trampled snow which was also measurably lower than in the mountains. While the clouds overhead made it hard to determine the time of day, Palose knew that, as he entered the village market, he still had a couple hours that he could expend without anyone growing suspicious in Ensolus.

  From his time in the city last summer, Palose knew of the merchants and of a particular one he had come to see. Though he had never had any reason to visit a money lender with being in the mage corps, the young man had discovered the business during one of his trips into the village sight seeing. It had just been his way of getting to know an area when he had found it, but now he had a purpose there.

  The man in charge of the small store looked up as a bell above the door chimed cheerfully as the mage entered the room. Of middle age and starting to gray at the temples, his face looked less weathered than a farmer’s but he was still old to the nineteen year old boy’s eyes. His gray eyes seemed to give a clue as to the future of the man’s eventual hair coloring.

  “Good afternoon, young man,” the shop owner greeted cheerfully enough. He had looked bored and had probably seen fewer patrons as the winter wore on and merchants appeared less often. Like anything in the northern city, things shut down or at least slowed down during winter.

  “Good afternoon. Are you still able to trade coin for gold?” he asked getting straight to business.

  “Of course,” the merchant answered easily. “I don’t carry as much coin during the winter in the shop, since it is often a slower time of year, but most likely I can help you.”

  Nodding, Palose produced a small bar of gold. Over the last month he had been preparing for the day the mage returned to the civilization of Southwall. Trying to spend the minted coins of Ensolus was obviously not going to work, so he had taken some of the coins from what he had taken from Atrouseon and had them melted into five small bars. If he had guessed correctly, showing just one would keep him from being noticed should anyone think to look for him. It was a rough piece far from the craftsman’s best, but Palose had asked for rough work to make it appear like he had found a forge and melted something down without having a good mold.

  The man frowned over it as Palose expected. He had to check on the quality of the gold before giving a price. If it was low grade gold mixed with other metals, the price would be low or no offer would be made. He had made sure that the coins were of true gold and had them ready as the little blocks for this very moment.

  Glancing to the young man before him, the money lender gave him an appraising look that matched the one for the gold. As the man weighed the small bar, he made conversation that went beyond true small talk. Palose had expected as much. A stranger walking in with a bar of gold was bound to make the man leery. “This bar seems a little strange. Did you melt something down to make it?”

  An obvious answer to any gold bar was that something had been melted down, the mage thought, but answered with a small smile pretending to be a merchant’s son. “Our winter supplies are getting low, so my father melted down a couple trinkets into bars just in case. He thought trading in straight gold weight would get him more money than trying to pawn them, so he sent me to get what I can for the bar.”

  “You have more than one of these bars?” the merchant asked curiously.

  “My father does,” Palose answered with a shrug as if it m
attered little to the dutiful son just following his father’s orders. Being able to tell a lie to a stranger wasn’t something everyone could do convincingly, but the mage had been working to commit the back story in his mind so that it came off as truth.

  With a small nod, the lender brought the bar back placing it on the counter. “It is of fair grade. I can give you four and half golds in whatever assorted denomination of coins you would like.”

  Looking dissatisfied with the answer, Palose replied slowly, “My father was sure that I could get six golds for the bar. I don’t think it will be enough for him.”

  As the young man started to reach for the bar, the merchant placed a hand over it coming back with a quick counter offer, “I can go as high as five gold, though it against my better judgment.”

  “Perhaps five and half would keep my father happy,” he retorted with both hands on the counter. There were no smiles now as they moved solidly onto business. While Palose knew the merchant’s price was probably fair, it was always best to see how far they were trying to skew the deal towards their favor.

  “Five gold and three silver, but no more,” the man stated looking beaten.

  A more experienced haggler might have pushed for more, but Palose took the deal with a nod even so. When it came down to it, this wasn’t his money anyway. Five gold and three silver could pay for meals at most taverns for over a month. More importantly, he was pretty sure that he could get a horse for the next part of his continued trek through the country.

  Leaving the shop with a small leather pouch filled with an assortment of copper, silver and gold, the battle mage looked at the city walls to the north wondering if he dared enter Windmeer. After a moment he shook his head, there was nothing for him there. He wouldn’t be able to get much information of any sort about the army most likely, and if he did who would he report it to anyway? This trip was no mission for the emperor and he wasn’t even supposed to be there. No, there was no one he could help by going into the main city, so Palose turned to the market and the stables of the village.

  His continuous slow walks would be over, though the mage had more in mind to increase his abilities to cover the country. First, he would price out horses to see if he would need more gold, then he would see to the other plans. Dropping a touchstone behind the first stable yard with a large barn where he thought there was little traffic to be seen, Palose planted the newest seed before finding a stable hand to answer his questions.

  Chapter 14- War and Peace

  A late winter blizzard had stormed in from the north sealing off the Dimple Mountains from the rest of the world, or so it seemed to Sylvaine as she retreated back into the stone of the fortress each day. They had been there for a little over a week now and stories had been reaching those waiting of two armies making their way towards them. Hundreds, perhaps even thousands of Southwall soldiers and wizards were closing in on them and only the heavy snow and bitter cold had prevented the enemy from making the march to their mountain.

  With the destruction deep inside the fortress, half of those who had come to join the fight were stuck outside in tents. The orc and goblin soldiers were the main forces kept outside along with a score of trolls as well as the werewolves and lions who seemed comfortable despite the cold. The latter creatures were quick to leave and slow to return; so when the apprentice left the stifling stone of the fortress, their numbers always seemed to be fluctuating to her eyes.

  After the first four days, several of the beasts left permanently. Though some feared the feral side of the creatures had taken them over to just wander off away from the control of their masters, rumors soon made their way through the army. Nearly one hundred of the werebeasts had left splitting into two groups to harass the enemy soldiers. With the blizzard raging for three days, the enemy had been forced to make camp and the wolves and lions would take advantage of their abilities to damage their forces.

  Men would die and so would horses, so that when they finally met the army of Ensolus they would already be bloodied and have the fear of his beasts to make them falter. That would be when the warlocks and wizard hunters would show them another reason to be afraid.

  “Why does an apprentice wizard wear a sword on her hip?”

  The deep voice made the girl jump where she stood in the mouth of the cave sheltering the heavy doors of the fortress. Turning to see the originator of the words, Sylvaine’s eyes widened at the sight of the giant known as Garosh. Bowing her head, the girl replied meekly, “My Lord Garosh, I didn’t hear you approach.”

  Oil fueled lanterns shifted as the winds outside the cave sent their breezes inside to disturb the lights hanging from iron hooks. A twenty foot high ceiling towered above even the giant and behind him stood a man made stone wall with slits for arrows and small gaps near the ceiling for more defenders to rain arrows or oil onto any possible attackers. The defensibility of the mountain fort was substantial even without those stationed outside readying for war.

  She noticed a pair of rough looking men stood several paces behind Garosh and in the open doors two of the undead wraiths bound to the sorcerer could leap to his aid should he need it. Whoever would dare to try to harm the man, both powerful in physical strength and magical power, would have to be nearly insane, she thought.

  His hand gestured towards the scabbard on her hip, and he replied, “You didn’t answer my question either. Perhaps your hearing is faulty?”

  “No, no, I am sorry, my lord,” the girl sputtered fearfully. “I have been training to use the sword since last summer in case I should ever have to fight off someone so close that I can’t use my spells. This isn’t a full sword, just a short sword, since I am not strong enough to wield a long sword.”

  Pulling the weapon from its sheath without the girl’s permission, the giant examined the short sword, which was little longer than most daggers and in Garosh’s hand it looked more like a knife for buttering bread for use at the table. “It has a good edge and weighted well, though that would be more noticeable to someone with a weaker arm. Did you choose the weapon or did someone pick it for you?”

  Unsure of where she stood with the giant, Sylvaine answered a bit cryptically, “My teacher found it for me when he heard that I was being sent to war here.”

  Sniffing dismissively, Garosh threw her word back at her, “War, it will probably be little more than a minor battle that won’t even make it into the history books. They have no chance against us.”

  Sylvaine said nothing in reply. She didn’t know anything of war or combat and her magic was still incomplete. What could she say to someone like him?

  Flipping her sword to hold it towards her with the handle pointed at the girl to take, Garosh asked another question, “Who is your teacher? Surely no wizard of Ensolus would be likely to bother. Some of the elemental warlocks train in weapons to join the Wizard Hunters. Is that your goal? I doubt it would suit you, but I am not judging.”

  Both questions made the girl hesitant, but she had already annoyed him with her inability to answer. How many times she could disappoint him before punishment came, Sylvaine didn’t want to find out. “My teacher is Palose Rosaren, a former battle mage from Southwall; and I had never considered becoming a Wizard Hunter, my lord.”

  To her surprise, Garosh pulled a long knife from his belt. A dagger in size, it was only a foot shorter than Sylvaine’s sword. “Let’s see what he taught you,” he gestured with his open bare hand and holding his blade ready.

  Hands starting to shake, the girl backed up a step holding her weapon in suddenly weak arms. “My lord?”

  Relaxing his posture, Garosh sighed as he clarified, “I know of your teacher, but I have never fought him. There were battle mages here a month ago and I was unable to test their strength and skill. I hear that they use a different type of magic. Has your teacher bothered to show you that as well or just the sword?”

  Sylvaine swallowed though her mouth had gone dry and she nearly choked, but he had asked her a question again and the g
irl knew that she must answer. “He wouldn’t teach me any spells until we mastered control of the weapons or at least grew competent enough with them. Palose said that teaching mage spells without understanding the rest would be meaningless, but he started teaching me a few this winter.”

  Nodding, the giant ordered, “Attack me then and show what you have learned.”

  The girl wasn’t in the right clothes and had no protective pads, so she was unsure how well she could have done against Turless let alone against this monster. Her skirt restricted her legs and her face revealed the discomfort she was feeling, but Sylvaine held the sword ready. “Shield,” she ordered her magic bringing up the blue energy defense that Palose had taught her. It was one of the first spells from his battle mage school that had been ingrained into her mind. Turless and she had been forced to first learn the spell and then repeat it over and over for hours over a week of days. Palose had stated that the mage shield was at the core of being a battle mage and must be the first thing they learned to trust.

  Thrusting her sword at Garosh tentatively, the apprentice attempted to use what Palose had taught her. The dagger tapped away each attempt to touch him with the blade so she tried a tight sweep horizontally. Thrusting his hips back to avoid the tentative attack, the giant blocked the counter swing with the dagger.

  “Any more spells?” he asked breathing easily. Sylvaine’s hours of sparring each week kept her breathing steady as well.

  “Fire sword,” enchanted her short sword with flames as the girl tried to give him what he asked.

  Nodding at the fire, Garosh continued, “Any more?”

  “I can call a fireball and put a stone skin defensive spell on my skin. There is a spell to increase my speed, but Palose said I needed more control over the weapon first before I try and use it. It is just for emergencies at this point,” she admitted unable to force the giant to give ground with her current skill level. While some parts of wielding a sword just meant holding a weapon and swinging the blade, true skill took practice and time. She hadn’t had enough of either to be any sort of challenge to Garosh even when he used a mere long knife to defend.