Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus)

by Wigboldy Jr, Donald

  When the prow of the first ship entered the light, it simply pushed through disappearing into the glowing archway. In seconds, the entire ship passed through the light and was gone from sight. One after the other, the three warships moved through the archway and disappeared into the light.

  With the need for the ritual over, the warlocks released their power. Their jobs done, the men went away leaving Palose to wonder just where the ships were now. He knew that someone was supposedly interfering with the emperor’s special lands far away. These were lands which he had never known existed, nor had he known of the emperor’s reach beyond his empire in the mountains.

  Palose didn’t follow the others or Atrouseon. He no longer needed to follow the warlock anywhere and had already warned him of other draws on his time. Turning his feet to the crematorium knowing for once that he had what he needed for his experiment, the mage found the one he was looking for as usual.

  “Hello, Wakaraq,” he greeted the brown skinned orc. His contact looked grumpy as normal, though Palose often had to remember that he had never met an orc who wasn’t at least slightly cantankerous in their dealings with men. Still the muscular foreman of the crematorium was someone best dealt with as delicately as possible looking at his tusks that looked ready to gore him like some wild boar.

  “Mage,” he replied gruffly. Palose wondered if the noise of the archway magic helped to keep the orc angry today. He had heard some of the creatures had sensitive hearing that picked up on the sounds of magic in an uncomfortable way.

  Holding out a purse, the mage jingled it three times letting the orc see the weight inside of the soft leather. “You know our deal,” the man reminded Wakaraq.

  Snorting at him, the orc swiped at the bag fast enough to make the mage wonder if his reflex spell would be fast enough to dodge the nasty creature. Pulling the strings, Wakaraq opened the bag fumbling with gold and silver coins that would take the orc most of his life to ever accumulate in his current position. Even in Ensolus, commerce ruled what the emperor did not.

  Before the orc could make the bag disappear, Palose laid his hand on the bark hard skin halting him. “Do you mind if I check the merchandise first, my friend?”

  Grunting, Wakaraq replied more brusquely, “You saw them for yourself, mage, but suit yourself. Just don’t take too long. We can’t stand here all day without questions.”

  Raising an appraising eyebrow at the orc, Palose remembered that Wakaraq was smarter than he looked. Perhaps if he needed an ally, this creature might do, but that was in the future. For now he needed to check on his test subjects. The dark haired girl was tall and slender. Her body appeared unharmed aside from the knife wound delivered just below her breast bone. Her face was even comely in her sleep, he thought, before looking at the second girl. Young women perhaps better described them, for they looked to be nearly his age. Blond and pretty, the second girl was shorter and petite, but her features were more curvaceous. Lifting her hands, the mage noted that these weren’t the hands of a peasant girl. He wondered if the girl had been the daughter of some noble requiring a new incentive to serve the master properly.

  If his experiment went well, Palose would have to ask her.

  Snorting, the orc asked sarcastically, “Do I need to find you a room, mage? I wouldn’t think a former Southwaller would be into this kind of kinky stuff.”

  Palose glared at the orc, but simply answered, “I need bodies that aren’t too damaged, but they also need to be something that won’t have people coming back to me when they are missing.”

  Frowning in confusion, Wakaraq asked, “Who goes looking for a dead woman? They were sacrificed, so no one will be looking for them.”

  Waving the orc to cover them up and follow, the man replied, “I’m not afraid of someone looking for them, but looking at them.”

  Continuing to look confused, the powerful orc followed the mage to his hideout away from Atrouseon and the other warlocks of the city. Acheri hadn’t even found this place as far as he knew yet. He frowned thinking that if he were to continue working for the emperor as often as he had, that they would want to know where he lived to call for him in the future. Men with money and power purchased homes in towers or in the light near the outer wall. Those with hope might live outside the city hoping to make a living farming or trading. Nestled near the east wall, this area was left to those who just tried to survive and stay out of the sight of those with power. Now he would be bringing that which they hid from to their part of the city.

  Lifting up the door for the cart to enter the garage, Palose closed it again to hide the remainder of the transaction. The mage lifted the smaller girl over his shoulder and pushed through a door revealing a stairway leading into the basement from this entry. Wakaraq carried the second girl in an effort to earn his money as quickly as was still possible.

  Lighting the way with his magic, Palose deposited the first girl on a wooden table in the middle of a dingy stonewalled room with a few storage cabinets. Wood beams supported the main floor above him, but there were no windows and only four magically lit lanterns provided any light here. The orc grunted at him and the man gestured to a pile of sheets and linens left by Master Poultus or one of his former tenants. Nearly dropping the girl onto the pile, Palose admonished the orc, “If you break her, I’m taking back some of the money or you’ll owe me a larger favor than this.”

  Grunting his annoyance, the orc stated, “I’d rather owe you.”

  Smiling to himself, the mage looked at the girl long enough to hide his enjoyment of thinking he could make the orc owe him more. Palose walked the creature back up and opened the door for the cart to leave. He watched the orc for only a moment longer before hurrying down to the bodies awaiting him.

  He had found and studied books about the spell for months that had been used to raise him from the dead or partially dead as the text had made mention. A body couldn’t be too far gone from its spirit or into rot, unless they were to be made merely into puppets or wraiths. His goal was to create these women as resurrection men, or women as was the case, so he wanted to hurry to make the conditions for their rebirth optimal.

  Taking a knife, the mage cut each of his hands. He drew the runes with his blood that he had spent months memorizing for this chance. Runes instilled the power of the wielder on the target and placed any restrictions that he had in mind on his future servant. Atrouseon had either failed to place the right restrictions on the mage in his return or had failed to do them right as he had found loop holes in the magic, Palose thought briefly before he gathered up his power.

  He placed his right hand between the girl’s breasts directly above her heart and the left still dripping his blood opened her mouth to take on a portion of his life force from that blood. Chanting the words of power needed, the mage transcended his meager beginnings. Using the power garnered from Atrouseon and the new skills he had trained to become an acknowledged warlock, Palose worked to bring the girl to life against the laws of nature.

  Long minutes passed as he worked the spell, Palose was beginning to wonder if it was going to work when he felt her tongue and lips sucking more of his blood. Her heart began to beat as well. Pale green eyes opened without fear as she looked at the man above her. Moving his hand from her lips, the girl reached for his hand not wanting him to release her apparently.

  “Master, you have saved me,” the pretty girl stated adoringly. Palose moved his right hand from her chest wiping his blood on her wound. The blood was pulled into the wound and made it seal up seamlessly. To look at her, one would never know that she had been dead.

  He had made sure to place runes that would make them love and want to protect him. Apparently he had done that part of the spell too well, but it was his first attempt and he was pretty sure that they would never want to turn on him willingly. One thing this test had affirmed for him was that he was alive. As alive as anyone in fact, because the spell said that only a living sacrifice of blood could return someone to life. He had seen other
signs of that fact, but this magic unequivocally proved it.

  The pretty blond placed her right hand on his shoulder pulling him closer to kiss his lips in her gratitude. Removing her hand gently, Palose smiled, “There will be time for that later... uh, what is your name?”

  “Stasia,” the petite blond said looking at him coyly. It was cute, but the mage had work to do.

  “Stasia, I need you to get down so that I can save our friend here,” he said pointing to the other body lying in the linens.

  “Oh, what happened to her?” the girl asked appearing to genuinely care about the other girl.

  She helped Palose place the second girl on the table as he explained as if talking to a child, “They used her as a sacrifice like you, Stasia. Once I bring her back that will make you two like sisters.”

  Thinking about the word, Stasia frowned, “Did I have a sister before? I can’t remember anything right now.”

  “It will come back to you in time,” the mage assured her as he placed the runes on the dark haired girl. “I can remember everything that happened before I was brought back.”

  “Brought back?” the girl looked a little concerned and began to notice the blood on her bare skin. “Brought back from where?”

  He didn’t really have time for questions, but to ease the girl’s worries Palose replied, “From the brink of death. It was a close one, now why don’t you sit and maybe use one of the blankets to keep warm until I am finished here. You wouldn’t want this girl to die now would you?”

  Stasia looked unsure of whether she did want him to save the other girl, but moved to wrap a sheet like a toga around her body. “I have blood on me, master,” she said without true worry as the girl pointed out a simple fact.

  “We can take care of that in a minute, Stasia. Now be a dear and let me concentrate,” the mage said gathering his power. It was like dealing with a child and he wondered if Stasia was like this before the ritual or if it was just her mind taking awhile to cope with the strangeness of it all.

  The second ritual went the same as the first, though he now had an audience. When the second girl awoke, it was a similar experience as she took his blood. Her name was Talia and she wanted to kiss him as well, which made Stasia pout until he could divide his attention between them.

  Feeling tired from the use of so much magic, the dark mage gathered the girls and moved upstairs to find the food he had stashed for both him and his hungry new friends. They could serve him in the city and around the house in a domestic capability perhaps. They were a successful experiment, at least, and given time Palose believed that he might find even better servants. Wakaraq might find someone with magical power to resurrect one day, but whether he did or not, Palose was already on the path to freedom from Atrouseon and onto that of becoming a true necromancer.

  It was only two days later that the bells rang again, but these sounded different from the last two alarms. Palose had been spending most of his time suddenly distracted by his two new creations. Not just their affections but other needs had to be taken care of with the new mouths to feed. He was at the hideout enjoying one of the unexpected pleasures of his experiment when the bells disturbed the peace.

  Palose pushed Stasia off of him as he heard the clanging of large bells from the harbor. Talia minded her side of the bed much better than the pretty little blond. Both girls could be very affectionate, but he could tell which one had once been a nobleman’s daughter from her neediness.

  “Palose?” the pretty girl asked as she knelt on the mattress of the bed they shared. He would have to buy beds for the other rooms, unless he continued to share. There was also the thought of Sylvaine and what the apprentice would think when she returned from her patrol. As much as he enjoyed the attention of the two girls, there wasn’t the true spark that he felt with Sylvaine. Her friendship was different and not magically induced.

  The dim light of day came through the raised floor window of the house he still rented, but now a new light came from the harbor. The light shone on the nude girls through his window as Palose began to pull on his clothes. Seeing the arch glowing from the magic used to bring something back through the gate, Palose knew there was something wrong. If he didn’t show up, Atrouseon or someone from the emperor might decide to find out what the dark mage was up to with his new freedom.

  “You girls stay here. If I don’t return by tomorrow, you know what you are supposed to do during the day,” the young warlock stated to the girls. They had duties both menial and more significant. They were his eyes and ears in places where a warlock would be noticed in the city.

  Both rose before he could escape and delivered kisses to either cheek. “Be safe, my lord,” Stasia said breathily.

  “We will do as you ask, master,” Talia added. She was the more reliable of the two, though both girls served him well in many ways. When they were apart, the larger, older girl probably bossed little Stasia around he thought slightly amused, though the smaller girl probably hid more from him than he knew. They were sister like in his presence, so Palose ignored any other trivialities as long as things continued to go well.

  Running out into the street, he spotted people gaping from windows and doors. He was forced to dodge more bodies as he raced to the dock where he knew Atrouseon and the others would be gathered for the unexpected interruption.

  The wizard hunters had sent word through a scrying globe of their first capture. A Kardorian ship had been where it shouldn’t have been apparently. Lord Devolus had given his plan to split the fleet. One ship pursued another, while the remaining two moved to head off the potential goal of their quarry if they escaped the first. They had been confident that no ship could contend with the power of the black warships with a score of wizard hunter warlocks aboard.

  As his feet thumped onto the wood pier, Palose came to a startled halt. The sight of a broken black ship limping through the gate was a surprise to everyone gathered and not just for the young warlock.

  The once proud black ship was physically broken and battered. Two of the three masts were gone but for a ten foot stump in the center of the ship. The third, rear mast had sails with holes and broken cross members. That the vessel could even move was a wonder. Aside from the broken masts, the hull looked like it had been through a terrible battle. Broken timbers in the hull, rails dismantled into twigs, even one of the two cabins on the deck was damaged beyond use.

  Palose wasn’t sure how long it would take to repair such a complete wreck.

  It had been only a couple days since the trio had left and hunter three was now here and utterly defeated. What the ship had run into, whether their quarry or some pirate fleet, no one knew yet.

  “Palose!” Atrouseon snapped seeing the young man slowly walking towards the congregation of magi and military officials. “Get over here, boy!”

  Palose did not like the man’s tone, but it was nothing new. The warlock still tried to uphold appearances that they were parting ways amicably and it wasn’t completely untrue. However, as he came closer to moving out, as if he basically hadn’t already, taking the warlock’s arrogant public treatment was becoming more difficult to bear.

  “Master Atrouseon,” he half bowed his head quickly before looking to the broken ship still pulling up towards the dock, “any word of what happened?”

  The man frowned. “Would we be standing here if we knew what had happened?” he snapped. Once it had been rare for the warlock to lose his temper with him this often for so little, but Palose took it in stride as their time together came close to an end. Besides he had been a cadet for several years in the battle mages and had harsher taskmasters before after all.

  “It looks like the wizard hunters weren’t too successful,” he commented slightly amused at the sight of the once proud ship limping into the dock.

  He could almost hear Atrouseon’s teeth grind in anger. Strangely, Palose thought, they should have been use to loss. Southwall had bloodied the emperor’s nose for almost two centuries after all, bu
t he supposed that this force was among their elite. To have them fail meant something more than a few hundred orcs being killed out in the field.

  Ropes were tossed from the deck and workers below tied the ship to the pier. A plank was lowered and soon a trio of warlocks walked down in shame.

  An older warlock, Cortrive, grabbed the first man by the black shirt and shook him. “What is the meaning of this, Werinas? Where is Karfon and the others?”

  The younger man’s eyes looked hollow. He was as beaten as the ship and probably had less fight in him, Palose thought to himself. Maybe his punishment would be death also. Then perhaps Wakaraq could get this one for him to begin building his collection of magical assistants.

  Greedily the mage hoped for the worst, even as the warlock finally answered, “All dead. We three are all that remain of the hunters, a handful of soldiers and we three.”

  The crack of a slap across the face left the younger man staring in shock at the elder warlock. “What happened to them? Tell me.”

  “After we captured a Kardorian ship, Lord Devolus, sent us to find another ship that had desecrated the island. It was they that set off the traps and defeated them. We should have been more wary of anyone capable of defeating the curse barrier, but we were so certain in our armor and magic.

  “Then instead of us finding them, the ship found us. It was a simple frigate from the south. There was nothing strange about the ship, except before we even spotted them the enemy struck our ship from afar. They killed from miles away. I’ve never heard of such a thing before and then they used elemental magic with light and dark to defeat our best spells.

  “We were supposed to be the only ones who knew those spells. How could they use them better than we could?” Werinas asked still fully in shock from the loss and death of his score of warlocks. The orcs and goblins were nothing to those men, but when other magi died there was a sympathy not given the other lesser races.