The Rogue Mage (The Age of Oracles Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  “Please convey my gratitude to your lord. Thank you for your visit.”

  “Thank you, your majesty,” she replied, bowing before a guard led her out.

  The king rose and strode forward, raising his hand in greeting. “Steward,” he said, “where’s Ibel?”

  “Ill with fever, my Lord,” Raiden replied, bowing before accepting the king’s hand. “I’m his assistant. Viscount Baron appointed me to deliver the Accord personally.”

  The lie came easily. Stewards and their assistants were known confidants of nobles, and frequently carried out the business for their masters. They were also rarely recognized because they were responsible for the house when the Lord was absent. Evidently the king had not met Viscount Baron’s steward’s assistant because he smiled.

  “Excellent,” he said. “But let us speak in private.”

  The king stepped down from his throne and strode to set of double doors behind it. The guards fell into step behind him, keeping Raiden from drawing too close. Now curious, Raiden took the opportunity to examine the king.

  Tall and well built, he walked with his shoulders slightly hunched. His gaze, too, carried a burden, and grey lined his hair, a recent addition since Raiden had last spotted him riding in the streets of Terros.

  His curiosity rising, Raiden looked around the king and realized that his advisors were all Verinai, as were his personal guards. Wealthy nobles in all the kingdoms had taken to protecting themselves with Verinai, but Raiden had thought the Griffin king had resisted that practice.

  The king entered a room and a surprising number of guards and a pair of advisors joined him. Small and filled with couches and tables, the room contained the king’s private desk. He took a seat behind it and motioned Raiden into the chair across from him.

  Surrounded by Verinai in a windowless room, Raiden fought the urge to draw his sword. If they knew he was the Soldier, or even a member of the Defiant, they would kill him before he had a chance to reach the door.

  His mouth dry, he licked his lips and forced a smile, his gaze shifting between the Verinai in the room, measuring them, marking the masters. Four were quad-mages, another boasted five magics. Raiden imagined the subsequent battle, where he could move, who he would kill first. Containing the sense of being trapped, he took a seat. Before he could speak, one of the Verinai stepped in.

  “Viscount Baron is the eighth noble to sign the treaty,” she said. “And we are grateful for his support.”

  Raiden heard the we and his eyes flicked to the king. “I’m certain the treaty will bring increased prosperity to our kingdom,” he said, keeping his words vague.

  The king smiled but the levity did not touch his eyes. “We can only hope.”

  The Verinai advisor stepped to the king’s side, her stance conspicuously arrogant beside the reigning monarch of the largest kingdom in Lumineia. Raiden’s foreboding mounted as he noticed the subtle looks from the other Verinai—even the king—marking her as the one with power in the room.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said. “I’m Master Mineva, assistant guildmaster to Elsin.”

  Raiden thought she looked familiar. The woman was the second most powerful mage in the guild of Verinai, second only to the guildmaster herself. For her to be here—and behaving the way she was, did not bode well.

  “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Raiden said. “How will the treaty help contain the Soldier and the Defiant?”

  It was a provocative question, and Raiden watched the responses of those in the room. As expected, the Verinai’s expression filled with revulsion, scorn, and a trace of fear. But the king’s lips twitched as if he wanted to smile.

  “He is a murderer and a thief,” Mineva said, her lips curling with hatred. “He should be put down like a rabid dog.”

  “Easy, Mineva,” King Talin said. “He may be a criminal, but he deserves justice like everyone else.”

  The looks on the Verinai made it clear that the Soldier would never make it to a tribunal if they had their way. Raiden resisted the insane urge to smile as he realized they had no idea who he really was.

  “Patrols are hunting the Soldier even now,” Mineva said. “And Oracle Ciana has added her farsight to the search. It’s only a matter of time until we find him. The new empire will certainly make that easier.”

  “An oracle besides Teriah is aiding in the search?” Raiden asked. “I understood they did not involve themselves in inquisitions outside their stewardship.”

  Mineva turned to face him. “The treaty clearly states the oracle’s position.” Her eyes carried a trace of suspicion.

  “I must have forgotten that,” he said with a weary laugh. “My duties keep me fairly busy, after all.”

  Her expression indicated it was the wrong thing to say, and Mineva stared at him. “The oracle’s position is the principle agreement of the treaty,” she said slowly. “For you to miss it suggests you never read it.”

  “Of course I did,” Raiden said, feigning indignation as he rose to his feet. “How dare you insult me?” He scanned the room and found himself ringed by hostility.

  “Where’s the Accord?” Mineva demanded, coming around the desk.

  The captain answered from behind Raiden. “He claimed he left it at the inn.”

  “Impossible,” Mineva said, and flames appeared in her hand. “No steward would have left a document of such importance.”

  “He’s just an assistant,” the king said, also on his feet. “Perhaps it is merely an oversight.”

  “It wasn’t,” Raiden said, abruptly deciding to drop the persona. In a fluid motion he yanked his sword free and placed the tip on Mineva’s throat. “My regards from the Defiant.” The bold motion froze the Verinai in the room, and the Mineva swallowed, her eyes filled with hatred.

  “You think to fight a dozen Verinai alone?” she demanded. “You’ll be dead before my body hits the floor.”

  Raiden flashed a grim smile. “I would still see your body hit the floor.”

  “You are a fool,” she said. “Tell us who the Soldier is and you may be spared.”

  Raiden burst into a mocking laugh. “You don’t understand. The Soldier is everyone. He’s the common folk that you oppress, the man in the tavern you don’t pay, the barmaid you belittle.”

  “We’ll see when he’s dead,” she replied.

  Conscious of the Verinai casting lightblades around him, Raiden carefully stepped close to Mineva and wrapped his arm around her, twisting his sword so it rested along her throat. Then he backed toward the door.

  “You cannot escape,” she snarled.

  Raiden backed through the door, and the Verinai soldiers followed him into the great hall, edging closer. He saw the intent in their eyes and gauged the distance, knowing he would not make it in time. They would attack and he didn’t stand a chance of escaping. He scowled as he saw death in their eyes, and tensed for a final stand. Before he could move the great hall shuddered, and an unholy shriek came from outside the castle.

  Chapter 18: Madness of the Lost

  The Verinai around the king shifted, their eyes flicking over Raiden’s shoulder as shouts and screams erupted from the castle’s entrance. Despite the standoff, King Talin craned to look past the Verinai.

  “What’s happening?” the king demanded.

  The doors exploded, sending a pair of bodies tumbling into the great hall. Fire climbed from the doors, sending ash and cinders billowing upward. Jester appeared in the opening and sprinted around a pillar, just as a burst of light followed. The light struck the pillar and it cracked, the power searing a line across the stone. Then the guardian stepped through the curtain of smoke, his body phasing between light and flesh.

  “What have you done?” Mineva demanded, catching sight of the guardian.

  “Don’t ask me,” Raiden replied, twisting so they faced the guardian. “You created him.”

  There was an audible intake of breath. “You brought an unchained guardian? Are you mad?” Sh
e struggled in his grip but he held her fast.

  “Tell me what it is,” he demanded.

  The guardian caught sight of them and began to advance, light blossoming at his fingertips. The Verinai around the king scattered, diving for cover behind pillars and the throne. Shouting for aid, the king darted for the doors leading to the dining hall, and Raiden followed, dragging Mineva with him.

  The guardian leaned forward and sent a blast of light through the hall. The asunder lance struck the throne, tearing through it to impact the two Verinai beyond. When the light faded the throne was gone, disintegrated to bits of dust and charred wood. The remains of the men behind were steaming.

  “YOU DID THIS TO ME!” the guardian shrieked.

  The Verinai unleashed their collective power, striking at the guardian on all sides. Fireballs bounced across his form but he hardly noticed, and he turned on the casters with a surge of vengeance. One man fled, but another searing lance of light blasted him to oblivion.

  From within the dining hall Raiden spun Mineva into the wall and placed his sword against her throat. “What is a guardian?” he demanded.

  She glared at him. “It was supposed to be chained to a source so it would not succumb to madness—but the Soldier stole it before it could be leashed in Verisith.”

  “You wanted the Soldier to steal it,” he accused.

  She winced as the blade pressed against her throat again. “Guildmaster Elsin thought you would take it to your camp, where it would destroy you before its magic consumed it.”

  “How can we stop it?” the king demanded.

  “It would take a score of light mages to siphon the power from his flesh,” Mineva said. “Enraged as he is, he’ll destroy the castle and everyone in it.”

  The walls shuddered again, and a sphere of light blossomed from the great hall. It exploded outward, shattering every window and door. Raiden ducked as the doors to the dining hall flew inward, the wood engulfed in flames. The burning doors clattered over the dining table, breaking dishes and sending silver scattering. On the opposite side of the opening, the king leveled an accusing finger at Mineva.

  “You and your arrogance,” he shouted. “You thought you could bring order to my kingdom with this?”

  “The Soldier brought this upon you,” Mineva shouted back. “He steals a weapon he does not understand and his minion brought it to your door.”

  Heedless of the screams erupting from the great hall, the king continued to shout at Mineva.

  “If I survive this I’ll tell everyone about your precious Accord. Nobles and commoners alike will turn their fury upon you and your reign will end before it begins. Your Mage Empire will die before it takes its first breath.”

  “I told Elsin you would betray us,” Mineva snarled back.

  A beam of light cut the stone wall like a sword through cloth. It cut so close to Raiden’s head that it nearly decapitated him, forcing Raiden to dive away. Mineva used the distraction to scramble free, but instead of fleeing she darted to the king.

  “Perhaps your daughter will be more malleable,” she said, and a sword of fire appeared in her hand. Before the king could react, she drove it into his gut, leaving him to slump to the floor. Helpless, Raiden watched the man fall, his features stricken.

  “You kill the king in cold blood?” Raiden growled, keeping his sword between them. “The people will not stand for this.”

  She sneered at him. “The barren believe what we tell them, and after the attack on the oracle, they will believe the Soldier assassinated the king.”

  “The commoners are smarter than you think,” he said.

  “They are cattle,” Mineva shouted. “Beasts fit to serve their masters.”

  “And you’re the master?” Raiden snapped. “You can’t even master your magic.”

  “The guardians will be the sentinels of the kingdoms,” she cried, straightening in fury. “They will stop wars and crime, and keep all the barren in their place. The era of race will come to an end, ushering in the Mage Empire!”

  A streak of light sliced through the wall behind her and curved, cutting above her on its way to him. Raiden dived to the floor as the searing lance passed above him, and felt the heat on his back. When he rose to his feet, Mineva was sprinting away.

  Raiden stepped after her but a groan caused him to turn and look down, to find the king was still alive. Kneeling at his side, he examined the king’s wounds but saw at a glance it was too late.

  “Please,” the king said, his voice faint. “Stop the guardian before my daughter is killed.”

  “Why should I?” Raiden asked. “You allied yourself with the people that built it.”

  The king coughed, his expression twisting with pain. “I gave them control over the mage guilds, and soon they controlled everything. I may have worn the crown, but they sat on the throne.”

  “The Accord,” he said. “How does it create a Mage Empire?”

  “The Verinai guildmaster will destroy the kingdoms,” he groaned. “The nobles are swearing allegiance to them, and the oracle that leads them. The Empire will replace the kingdoms of every land.”

  “What about the people?”

  “They would be enslaved,” the king said, coughing.

  “You could have fought the Verinai,” Raiden snarled with sudden vehemence.

  “They controlled my daughter,” the king said, his voice fading. “I had no choice. Tell the Soldier he must save my kingdom . . .”

  The king relaxed in death and Raiden laid him on the floor. Then he stood and removed his noble’s robe and tossed it into the flames next to the door. The room was empty, the fires having spread to the other openings. Removing his pendant, he donned his mask and turned toward the opening.

  He entered the great hall to find it devastated beyond recognition. Pillars lay on the ground, their stone reduced to rubble. Smoke billowed up from scattered flames. Gaping holes littered the walls, revealing patches of light that failed to pierce the smog. Soldiers poured through the front door and fought through the smoke, only to die at the hands of the enraged guardian, who stood in the center of the room unleashing light on anything that moved.

  A quartet of Verinai spread out behind him and cast their magic, threads of light striking the guardian like chains. Instead of attacking, the threads glowed bright and began to siphon energy. The Verinai desperately sought to dispel the light, using the guardian as a source to cast entities that darted forward. The lightcast wolves piled onto the guardian, knocking him to his knees.

  Raiden saw it coming and dived behind a fallen pillar just as the guardian screamed his fury. He grasped the threads bound to his back and sent a current of power into them, causing them to shatter and launch their casters into the wall. Then he leaned down and punched the marble floor, sending a wave of light arcing away from him. The blast ripped through the entities, tearing them asunder before striking the walls, causing the castle to shudder anew.

  Jester slid to Raiden’s side. He too had discarded his nobles clothing and donned his mask, and he’d tied a makeshift bandage over a wound in his arm. Blood seeped from the cloth but the assassin didn’t seem to notice.

  “He shattered the shackles like they were toys,” Jester said. “And not even the Verinai could stop him.”

  “Draw his attention and I’ll get close,” Raiden said.

  “You sure we can’t just run?” Jester asked.

  “Jester . . .,”

  “Worth a shot,” he said. He flashed a lopsided grin and then darted into the open.

  The guardian turned away from the dead Verinai and aimed a blast at Jester, but the assassin nimbly streaked away. The guardian roared, the sound echoing primal and harsh. Turning with Jester’s run, he aimed for him again.

  Raiden leapt the fallen pillar and sprinted for the guardian. Dodging rubble and Verinai bodies, he reached the guardian as he turned. Raiden drove his anti-magic sword into the guardian’s chest, plunging it all the way to the hilt.

  The
guardian shrieked, the sound scraping across Raiden’s ears like claws. The energy around the sword darkened and the shadow spread like a poison. But the guardian backhanded Raiden, cracking his mask and sending him tumbling across the floor. Light oozed from the guardian’s chest like black ink. The guardian stumbled about sending bursts of light in Raiden’s direction, attempting to incinerate him.

  Raiden clawed his way to his feet and slid behind a pile of debris, the marble erupting in geysers of stone all around him. He huddled behind a section of pillar, coughing in the dirt as the guardian unleashed his rage. When the barrage finally came to a stop Raiden peaked over the pillar.

  But the guardian remained.

  With the anti-magic sword still in his chest, the guardian was on his knees, the black spreading across his chest and back, threads climbing up his throat into his face. One eye had started to darken, while the other was bright with madness and fury. He grasped the hilt of the sword and pulled it free, screaming as it passed from his body. Then he tossed it away, the black sword bouncing across the dirt and disappearing.

  The gaping shadow on its body remained but the guardian rose to his feet, his limbs shimmering with his remaining power. Raiden fought his rising fear. His anti-magic sword had been crafted to negate magic, and could take down even mighty entities with a well-placed strike. But the guardian had survived a wound that should have killed anything born of magic.

  From across the chamber, Jester peeked out from behind his own hide. Raiden spotted him and their eyes met, and it was the first time Raiden saw fear in the assassin’s gaze. The man had killed Verinai and beasts across Lumineia, but here they faced an adversary beyond anything they had encountered.

  “Come to me, my little fleshies,” the guardian said, “And I will end your suffering.”

  The guardian spoke like he would to a child, soft and sweet. He began to sing as he stalked Raiden, the words indecipherable yet the meaning clear. Raiden huddled behind the pillar, fear crawling up his gut. Unbidden, he thought of Alydian. He wondered if an oracle could stand against a guardian. As he listened to the crunch of gravel under the guardian’s feet, he fought the rising desperation.