Magic, Sorcery and Witchcraft

by Stas Borodin

  “Ha-ha! And you expect us to believe you?” Captain Penkaur chuckled. “That is the most preposterous story I’ve heard today!”

  Captain Gormant frowned, stepping away from the awning. He stood next to me and bowed to Ice.

  “If your grace commands, The Punisher will not go to Kortas.”

  Dumbfounded, Bevid watched the scene.

  “It seems you’ve gone senile,” Captain Modron spat. “Captains bow to no one!”

  There was a smell of smoke. A thin tongue of flame escaped from Ice’s mouth. He gave me a quick glance and nodded.

  “Captains bow to me,” he said in a hoarse voice. “And you will heed my commands too!”

  “You have all gone mad!” Captain Modron roared, lifting his monstrous mace from the floor. “I will not take such insults from anyone! Not from this snotty boy who pretends to be a real wizard!”

  “Asshole!” Ice hissed.

  “It’s your damn fault!” Captain Modron roared, swinging his weapon. His eyes bulged and his red moustache bristled angrily. Captain Penkaur grabbed his mace too, preparing to join the fray.

  Flames burst from the Ice’s mouth and darted forward. This time they were yellow, without that terrible blue-green tint.

  Master Modron screamed and dropped his mace on the deck. He stood shocked, frantically shaking his burnt hand, the red-hot mace glowing and thin ribbons of smoke coiling around his ankles.

  I looked at his scorched brows, at his burned moustache and couldn’t help but smile.

  Bevid doused the incandescent mace with a bucket of water. It hissed, disappearing for a moment in a cloud of steam.

  “Next time, I won’t spare you.” My friend’s voice was like the roar of a dragon. Even I felt uneasy.

  The redheaded captains collapsed to their knees. Their faces were streaked with tears.

  “Master Wizard!” Captain Modron sobbed. “We’re just old fools. We beg your forgiveness!”

  “Our kingdom was finally blessed with a real dragon!” Captain Penkaur exclaimed, bowing his head low. “Your wish is our command, Master!”

  An evil grin distorted Ice’s face. I shuddered. He was no longer my friend. Ice seemed to become taller; his menacing presence flooded the entire ship like a wave. Bevid and Captain Gormant felt it too, dropping helplessly to their knees.

  “Fear me!” the wizard growled. “Fear my power!”

  Smoke streamed from his nostrils, and his eyes were cold like distant stars. Without thinking, I picked up a bucket and splashed him with the remains of the water.

  Steam hissed and my friend’s eyes blazed like extinguished coals.

  “Thanks, man, I needed that badly!” Ice grinned, his unruly red hair dripping wet.

  The captains stood in silence with their heads bowed.

  “We go to Rodar,” I said. “We should prevent the blockade at all costs.”

  “You heard him!” Ice barked, winking at me.

  “Aye aye, Master Wizards!” Captain Gormant said.

  The redheaded captains stood up and solemnly walked to their ships. Our crew watched us with reverence.

  “Lower the sails!” the captain ordered.

  “Lower the sails!” Bevid echoed. “We’re going home!”

  Chapter 12

  The redheaded captains gave us no more trouble. Now they looked at my friend with admiration and adoration. They even brought us a pennant, with a hastily drawn dragon complete with a long coiling tail and red flames erupting from its mouth.

  “Here.” Captain Penkaur looked proud. “Put it on top of the mast right now!”

  Ice threw the flag overboard without even looking at the captain. “Have they all gone mad?” he said, looking at the retreating captain.

  “It’s entirely your fault.” I said. “A wizard should be respected rather than feared.”

  “Let them fear,” Ice said, “for all I care!”

  I slapped him on the shoulder. “But now they worship you like some deity. I won’t be surprised if they bring you sacrifices too!”

  “Why, that would be grand!” Ice laughed. “Just let them know that I prefer sweet wine and pretty girls!”

  “They have no girls,” I said. “But they can always slaughter a pig and smear you with its blood!”

  Ice shivered, imagining the picture I drew for him. “Thank you, my friend, you are very kind.”

  Bevid approached us and bowed formally. “We’ll reach Rodar by noon. What are your orders?” He looked at Ice expectantly.

  The wizard shrugged and nodded at me. “Ask Master Marcus here, he’s in charge of logistics.”

  Honestly, I didn’t have a clue what to do once we reached the island. “Be alert.” I coughed. “And look for any sign of an enemy.”

  “Aye aye, Master Wizard.” Bevid winked at me. “Being alert!”

  ✽✽✽

  The narrow strait between the island and the mainland was clogged with ships. From such a distance I couldn’t tell who they were, friends or foes.

  “They are not ours!” the lookout yelled. “I see the reds and blacks of Kortas!”

  The captain’s whistles flew above the water; drums thundered, and sails went up. Nimble sailors climbed the masts like monkeys, preparing the ship for battle. The Hammer and The Anvil followed suit.

  “So huge!” Captain Modron yelled, rubbing his paws. “Lucky us!”

  Now we could clearly see the outlines of long flat ships, obviously not designed for a long sea voyage.

  “Freighters,” Bevid said, carefully studying the enemy. “Sitting low in the water. They are fully loaded, Master Wizards.”

  “To battle stations!” Captain Gormant roared.

  The bagpipes moaned and drums thundered. Marines in full battle gear squatted along the bulwarks, casually unsheathing their swords. Crossbowmen prepared their weapons, the covers from catapults and scorpions fell down. Heaps of fire extinguishers rose here and there, buckets filled with sand and water were positioned along the deck.

  I saw a squad of marines assembling a boarding ladder.

  Bevid stopped them. “Leave it, boys! Today we ram. Ram and sink!”

  I looked over the bulwark and saw Modron and Penkaur in shining cuirasses with monstrous clubs in their hands.

  Bevid approached the piper. “No boarding today. Ram and sink!”

  The plaintive moan of bagpipes flew over the waves. The captains roared happily.

  “Down they go!” Master Penkaur yelled.

  Two hundred and fifty oars hit the water, propelling The Punisher forward. The Hammer and The Anvil took their places at our sides.

  At last, the enemy spotted us too, greeting us with a chorus of pipes and drums of their own. In a heartbeat, hundreds of arrows soared high into the air, blotting out the sky. I thought about Master Nikos and how he had smashed the Alims’ arrows in mid-air. We could use a battle sorcerer today too.

  “Holy shit!” Ice grabbed my hand. “Those ships are stuffed!”

  “Shields!” the sergeant cried.

  The soldiers took cover behind the shields, ready to meet the deadly rain.

  “Quick! Get below deck, Master Wizards!” Bevid shouted. He showed us down the stairs and slammed the door shut. A few seconds later, steel hail drummed on the deck.

  The oarsmen laughed, pulling their oars. They were as excited as we were.

  “Look, Master Wizards,” a burly man covered in tattoos cried, “we’ll fuck this bitch in a heartbeat!”

  The oarsmen roared happily, the muscles on their sweaty backs bulging, hands pulling the oars, feet pushing the benches. Ice and I sat on the pile of spare oars between the benches, listening to the sounds coming from outside.

  Bevid slapped my knee and peeked through an oar-port. “They can’t escape now! Hold on tight, everybody!”

  We immediately gripped the ropes running along the ceiling in our sweaty palms. The next moment, the whole ship shuddered from prow to bow.

  “Not a virgin any more!” The oarsmen
laughed, pushing the oars in the opposite direction. The pentera jerked, freeing its ram, and slowly slid backwards.

  Ice and I climbed the stairs, hurrying to the deck. The freighter’s painted hull loomed right above us. There was a gaping hole in its side, sea water already rushing in. I took a hesitant step forward. The whole deck before me was studded with arrows of all imaginable colours and sizes. The marines were already busy knocking the arrows down with their iron-bound shields.

  Meanwhile, The Hammer tore into the belly of the giant freighter to our right, while The Anvil caught up with its prey on our left.

  “What a sight!” Ice looked around, terrified.

  The ship we had just rammed was already lying on its side, its bulwarks touching the water. I looked up and gasped. The freighter’s slanted deck looked just like the open gate to Annuvir.

  The deck was jammed with people. Thousands of them! Yelling and swearing, they were backing off from the advancing water. Those who wore armour fought furiously, killing anyone who stood in their path. Many jumped overboard. Some drowned right away, others clung to floating debris or swam toward the distant shore.

  “It’s futile,” Bevid grunted, looking at the swimmers. “These waters are infested with sharks.”

  “They are so many!” Ice exclaimed in shock.

  “A couple of thousand,” Bevid nodded.

  To our right The Hammer had finished off its prey too. Captain Modron stood on the prow, watching it sink. I looked to the left. The Anvil was there, with its tusk buried deep into the freighter’s underbelly. Two hundred and fifty oars were hitting the water furiously, but to no avail.

  “They’re stuck!” Bevid hissed. “This is bad!”

  The two ships, locked in a deadly embrace, drifted slowly in our direction.

  “We’ll ram it from the other side,” Captain Gormant barked. “Full ahead!”

  The Punisher changed its course and surged forward. With a deafening crash, our ram pierced the side of the freighter, and pieces of wood and fragments of rigging showered our deck. The ships moved closer still, carried by the power of the impact. Then dozens of hooks attached to ropes soared over the freighter’s bulwarks. The hooks dug deep into the deck, the ropes being pulled tight, forcing the ship even further forward. So, this was why The Anvil couldn’t free itself.

  “It’s a trap!” Bevid shouted. “Just cut them damn ropes!”

  The marines tried to cut the ropes with swords and axes, but to no avail. Their weapons bounced back, unable to cut through.

  “It’s protected by magic.” Bevid frowned.

  “Get a fire extinguisher!” Ice yelled, dashing toward the prow. “Quickly!”

  Enemy archers, hidden behind the bulwark, released a volley targeting the approaching wizard. Ice spat fire on the run, turning the arrows into ash. The taut black ropes snapped too, coiling back like some angry fiery snakes.

  I threw a fire extinguisher on the deck and pulled my friend down. Ice smiled, crouching behind the prow-beast. His face was streaked with soot, but his lips were wet and pink.

  “I did it right this time!” he cried. “It was the sweetest Mana I ever tasted!”

  My heart was thumping like mad. “Good!” I said. “Good…”

  The enemy freighter slid off the ram easily, its whole left side and smashed bulwark burning. The Anvil was able to free itself too, Captain Penkaur on its prow, shouting and shaking his mace in triumph.

  The Hammer had not wasted any time. While we were busy wrestling with our freighter, it sank another ship, slicing it neatly in two. I saw countless heads bobbing up and down among the wreckage and triangular shark’s fins circling around the flotsam.

  “Four ships,” Bevid counted. “Eight thousand people at least.”

  “We were lucky”—Ice winked at me—“once again!”

  I didn’t share my friend’s enthusiasm. All these people had died because of me. I knew we were at war, but the price paid for victory was just too high.

  “Are we going back to Paara?” Bevid asked.

  I nodded.

  “Fish out a few survivors for me.” Captain Gormant dispassionately watched the sharks doing their bloody business. “I want to question them later.”

  Boarding ropes were thrown overboard. A moment later, they came up with a squirming mad-eyed sailor.

  “That’s what I call fishing!” Ice raised his eyebrows, inspecting the wriggling prisoner. “Just look at the size of this thing!”

  “Well, we do it all the time.” Bevid grinned, stroking his pointed moustache. “Wanna give it a try?”

  Ice shook his head. “No thanks. Maybe some other time.”

  The next catch was a big man clad in fancy leather armour. The marines tied his arms and threw him on the deck. The prisoner wheezed and rolled to his knees, coughing sea water. One bloodshot eye stared at us through long tangled hair.

  Curious, Ice and I went closer. Bevid bent over the man and brushed his hair aside.

  “Who are you?” he asked. “Speak now!”

  The prisoner snarled, grunted something unintelligible and fell unconscious.

  Meanwhile, the marines had got themselves another trophy. This time it was a young girl with a shaved head and tattered leather armour. As soon as she was out of the water, she cut the ropes with her dagger and attacked her saviours.

  “Careful, boys,” Bevid chuckled. “She’s a vicious bitch!”

  Patork stepped forward and knocked her over with one powerful slap. “Go to sleep, sweetie,” he said. “Sweet dreams!”

  ✽✽✽

  The girl came to her senses almost five hours later. “What are you looking at, bitch?” she snarled, trying to kick me in the groin. “Untie me now, you sons of whores!”

  “Wow, we got ourselves a real lady,” Bevid grinned. “Too bad your pal can’t speak our language as fine as you.”

  “He’s not my pal, you fucking maggot!”

  Another prisoner sat with his back tied to the mast amusing the marines with refined and intricate curses.

  Captain Gormant bent over the girl. “You are not our enemy,” he said quietly. “Behave yourself, answer my questions and I will let you go. Okay?”

  The girl looked at the captain. “Why should I trust you?” she asked.

  I looked at her beautiful face and my heart ached. She was so scared, but proud at the same time. She looked just like Nela.

  “Let me talk to her,” I said, sitting down in front of the girl.

  Bevid and the captain took a step back, letting Ice through.

  “What god do your people worship?” I asked cautiously.

  The girl looked puzzled. “What do you care?” she snapped. “Are you a priest?”

  Ice crouched next to me. “Answer when a Master Wizard asks you a question!” he said.

  The girl slumped right away. “I am from Dekt,” she said. “We worship Mirku, the wind god.”

  “Mirku is Orvad’s younger brother,” Ice said. “But why him?”

  The girl frowned. “What’s the difference?” she asked defiantly. “In the end Annuvir will claim us all!”

  Bevid laughed. “Untie her!” he ordered. “But misbehave once and I’ll get you thrown overboard. Understood?”

  The girl nodded.

  “Dekt was always neutral,” the captain said. “We were good friends for many centuries. Why attack us now?”

  “Gonkor made an alliance with Kortas,” the girl replied, rubbing the life back into her stiff hands. “We were not asked if we wanted this war.”

  “What about him?” I pointed at the bound warrior. “Where does he come from?”

  “I don’t know,” the girl spat. “They brought them from the north. Shitty shit, if you ask me.”

  Bevid laughed again. “And why, may I ask, did they bring along such a charming lady as yourself?” he asked. “To entertain the soldiers?”

  The girl snorted. “That kind of entertainment was provided by old farts like you! I build siege towers.�
��

  ✽✽✽

  The girl’s name was Hrianon, and she was a fifth generation of tower builders. For two hundred and fifty years her ancestors had built towers for the kings of Gonkor. They took part in the sieges of Ritur, Tergas and Andor.

  “It would be nice to add Paara to this list,” she said. “My father would be so proud.”

  “Paara is a hard nut to crack,” Bevid chuckled, handing the girl a cup of wine. “I’m afraid you’d break your teeth this time.”

  “I really don’t care which city we take.” She lifted her chin up. “The bigger, the better!”

  “Don’t you fear death?” Ice asked.

  “We are all going to die.” The girl shrugged.

  “Well, the later the better,” Bevid said with a smile. “This world is full of wonders!”

  “But you are old and you gonna die pretty soon,” Hrianon snorted. “So why cling to these miserable years?”

  Bevid’s face turned red. “I will outlive you all yet. You’ll see!” he said and stormed away.

  The girl laughed.

  “He didn’t deserve that.” Ice looked angry. “Bevid is a good man. I’ll slap you if you do that again!”

  “Good man?” Hrianon snorted. “Your good man had promised to throw me overboard!”

  “So, you don’t respect your elders on Dekt?” I asked.

  “But why should I respect them?” The girl raised her eyebrows quizzically. “It’s no great feat to live long. Heroes never live long.”

  “What about your father?” I pressed on. “Do you respect him?”

  “My father was impaled at the siege of Andor,” the girl informed us cheerfully. “It took him three days to die before some soldier, tired of his curses and insults, gutted him with a spear.”

  “I would have gutted him right away,” Ice chuckled. “I hate noisy people.”

  “My pa was a real hero!” The girl drank half an amphora of wine and ate three chunks of dried meat. Now she felt quite happy and even tried to boss us around. The attempt was foiled by Captain Gormant, who slapped her with such force that the sound could be heard even on The Hammer and The Anvil.