“Who are you?” he gasped as he bolted upright.
“I am Aakuta,” replied the dark mage. “I am the one responsible for saving your life. Without my help you would have surely died. Get cleaned up and dressed, but remain in this room until you are called for.”
The boy look down at his chest and gasped. The boils were completely gone. He inspected his arms and legs and could not find a single boil.
“How did you do this?” questioned the boy.
“I used part of my life to save you,” snapped Aakuta. “In turn you owe me a debt of great magnitude. You will never speak of this debt to anyone. You will repay me when I ask it of you. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t,” the boy shook his head. “If a debt is owed, surely my father will pay it.”
“Oh your father will pay,” laughed Aakuta. “Do not worry about that, but what I speak of is between you and me. I am a wizard, a powerful wizard. I used magic to heal you, and I can use magic to destroy you. You will pay me this debt when I ask, or you will die as you were just about to. If you mention this debt to anyone, you will die, as you should have. If you do not understand this basic tenet of magic, then perhaps I have just wasted my time saving you. Shall I end your life now?”
“No, no,” the boy shook his head vigorously. “I may not understand, but I will obey your instructions. I will tell nobody of my debt, and I will repay it when you ask. Do not give me back that pain.”
“Very well,” Aakuta smiled. “Stay in this room until you are called for. I am sure that your father will want proof of your healing.”
The boy nodded and Aakuta left the room. There were people outside the room, trying to see in, but Aakuta closed the door immediately.
“Do not touch that door,” Aakuta stated sternly as he made his way downstairs.
At the bottom of the stairs he stopped and looked around. People stared at him curiously, but the mage paid no attention to them. He listened intently for the sound of the lord’s voice. When he heard it, he turned and strode towards it. Aakuta walked into the meeting room where Lord Druck and an officer were talking loudly. They both turned to look at him when he entered.
“I believe there is the detail of a fee still to be settled,” Aakuta declared as he approached the lord.
“Is he going to live?” asked Lord Druck.
“Do you question my skill?” retorted the dark mage.
Lord Druck ignored the question and nodded to the officer. The officer ran out of the room.
“Your doubt disturbs me,” Aakuta said seriously after a few moments of silence. “You think nothing of summoning me here to utilize my power, yet you doubt the results. You have what you demanded. Now it is my turn to make demands.”
The officer ran back into the room, gasping for breath. “He is as good as new,” the officer reported. “There is not a sore on his body. He was out of bed and getting dressed. I can’t believe it.”
“Bah,” scowled Aakuta. “Shut the door.”
Lord Druck nodded and the officer closed the door.
“It would appear that you do have power indeed,” Lord Druck smiled for the first time. “Such power would be very helpful with my neighbors. Their clan grows by leaps and bounds, and I am sure that their army will attack us soon. Perhaps you will stay and help us defeat them?”
“My fee,” Aakuta retorted. “I will not discuss anything until I am paid. You owe me gold and a horse.”
“Of course,” nodded Lord Druck. “Your services are very valuable, and you should be paid promptly. I will have my officer go and get you a bag of gold. One thousand gold should be well worth your trip here.”
“I think not,” scowled Aakuta. “Is your son’s life worth only one thousand gold? My fee is one hundred thousand gold.”
“One hundred thousand?” shouted Lord Druck. “Are you mad?”
“Not mad,” smiled the dark mage. “I do prefer to be left alone, though. My fee is one hundred thousand in gold. You may issue me script with your signature. In fact, I would prefer that to carrying so much weight.”
“That is preposterous,” blustered Lord Druck. “Nobody is worth that much.”
“That is too bad,” growled Aakuta. “I will just put your son back the way he was then before I leave your estate.”
“What?” shouted Lord Druck. “You will do no such thing.”
The officer, who had been standing by the door, drew his sword. Aakuta spun, his right arm rising swiftly. A power shot through the air from Aakuta’s fist to the officer. The officer’s arm, and the sword he had drawn, went flying across the room and thudded into the far wall. The soldier screamed in agony, but Aakuta ignored him. Loud banging on the door began as people tried to get the door open, but it would not budge. Aakuta turned and glared at Lord Druck.
“Make your choice, fool,” sneered the dark mage. “Pay me, or I restore the sickness to your son.”
Chapter 8
Gray Warriors
The Kamaril officer rolled on the floor and screamed in agony. People outside the meeting room banged loudly on the door and shouted with alarm. Aakuta glared at Lord Druck from the safety of his black hood, and the lord seethed with rage.
“Shut up!” Lord Druck shouted at the wounded officer. “I will pay your price, fiend, but you will never find another contract in all of Khadora.”
“That suits me well,” snarled Aakuta.
Lord Druck hastily wrote a script for one hundred thousand gold and placed his seal upon it. He hand the paper to the dark mage.
“Are you going to heal my officer before you leave?” he asked.
“Do you wish to enter into a new contract?” snickered Aakuta.
“Never!” swore Lord Druck. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”
Aakuta put the script into his pouch and turned to face the door. He extended his arm and waved his fingers towards the door. Suddenly, voluminous billows of smoke rose from the door as it began to glow brightly. The pounding and shouting beyond the door ceased, and the dark mage smiled. As the door burst into flames and fell to the floor, Aakuta stepped through the empty doorway. The people in the hallway scattered upon the sight of the dark mage stepping through the smoke and fire. Aakuta smiled inwardly and marched out the front door of the mansion.
“Get me a horse,” Aakuta snapped at the guards outside the mansion.
“What is going on in there?” questioned one of the guards.
“There is a fire,” shrugged Aakuta. “Get me a horse and be quick about it. I wish to be home before sunset. Move. Now.”
The guards looked at each other with indecision. They knew the mage had been summoned by Lord Druck, and they had seen his horse die upon arrival. Aakuta turned to glare at one of them, and the man ran towards the stables. He returned quickly with a horse, and Aakuta mounted it and rode towards the gates of the estate. He turned on the road that went past the estate. He had not ridden more than ten minutes when he heard a horse galloping behind him. He turned and saw the soldier that had been sent to his home to summon him.
“You must flee like the wind,” warned the soldier. “Lord Druck is sending a squad of soldiers after you. They will cut you down and retrieve the script Lord Druck gave you.”
Aakuta merely nodded. “Why do you risk your life to tell me this?” he asked.
“My life has been doomed since morning,” answered the soldier. “I would have been killed if I had returned without you. Now I will be killed because I did return with you. Lord Druck is in a rage. I have no choice but to flee. We must hurry.”
“What is your name?” asked Aakuta.
“I am called Werner,” answered the soldier. “Can you make our horses run as you did before?”
“I do not wish to sacrifice this horse,” replied Aakuta. “I think I like this one.”
“But did you not hear me?” Werner asked urgently. “A Kamaril squad is being sent to kill you. They will be here in mere minutes.”
The sound of gallop
ing horses rose in the distance. Werner kicked his horse and started moving away swiftly, but Aakuta halted his animal. He turned around and faced the charging soldiers. As the Kamaril squad came into view, shouts of recognition rippled through their ranks. Swords were drawn, and orders were shouted.
Aakuta sat calmly and raised both arms as he pointed towards the squad of soldiers. As the squad got closer, flame leaped from Aakuta’s fingertips. The soldiers saw the threat too late. They tried to halt their horses, but fire enveloped them. Horses and humans alike screamed as the fire consumed the squad. In moments it was all over. The remains of the squad smoldered on the road. Aakuta turned to leave and saw Werner right behind him.
“I thought you left,” Aakuta stated.
“I came back to help you,” gulped Werner, “but I can see that you do not require any help. I cannot imagine such power.”
Aakuta stared at Werner for several moments as if lost in thought. Suddenly, he smiled.
“You shall travel with me, Werner,” the dark mage said. “Perhaps you can turn away those who come looking to abuse my power.”
“Live out in the open?” replied Werner. “There is nothing out there. What would I do?”
“Where else would you go?” questioned Aakuta. “And what is it you wish to do?”
“I don’t know,” confessed Werner after a few minutes of silence. “Free men in Khadora are an oddity. I am sure that Lord Druck will inquire about me. He will find me wherever I go. My days are limited.”
“Not if you have my protection,” responded Aakuta. “I may have need of someone who can do things for me. I do have certain rules, though. I wonder if you can abide by them?”
“What are the rules?” asked Werner.
“You shall never interfere in what I do,” began Aakuta. “You will obey without question, and you will never discuss what I do in private with anyone.”
“Sounds like a slave,” frowned Werner.
“No,” Aakuta shook his head. “If you ever wish to leave me, you may, but I will erase things from your memory before you leave. When I have no need of your services, you may do whatever you wish. I now have more gold than I know what to do with, so you will never be hungry or lacking in any way. The choice is yours.”
Werner thought about the mage’s proposition for some time before he answered.
“This erasing of my mind,” he asked, “will I forget everything?”
“Only from this moment until the time you leave me,” replied the mage. “You will still remember who you are and what you are running from. It will be as if you just left the Kamaril estate.”
“Then I shall do it,” decided Werner. “You must know that the Kamaril will come looking for us soon, though. Lord Druck will be greatly offended when he learns his squad is dead and he is out one hundred thousand gold.”
“Then it is time to move on,” shrugged Aakuta. “I have had a yearning to visit Khadoratung. Perhaps we shall go there and try to figure out what this script is really worth.”
“It is worth what is says,” assured Werner. “That is why Lord Druck tried to get it back. I know of moneymen in the capital who will negotiate it. We can trade it off for notes of smaller value for a minimal fee.”
“Already you are earning your keep,” responded the dark mage. “Let us get off this road and find another path to the capital.”
* * *
The Torak soldiers grew tense as they approached the ambush site. Eyes constantly swept the forests on both sides of the road, but nothing was visible. The three wagons loaded with watula rumbled along, kicking up small puffs of dust. The squad of soldiers escorting the caravan was evenly spread before it and after it.
When the first fire arrows flew from the woods, it was not so much a surprise, as it was a relief. A sudden gust of wind generated by the air mage forced the fire arrows to miss the wagons. The soldiers in front of the wagons immediately jumped from their horses and nocked arrows to their bows. The soldiers in the rear did likewise as the wagons picked up speed. The air mage continued to protect the wagons by channeling small gusts of wind and hurling them at the arrows.
The screams in the forest started before the Torak soldiers on the road even made it to the gully that paralleled the road. Arrows struck many Torak soldiers, but the men kept on moving towards cover. When the squad reached the gully, they took cover and waited. Screams rang through the woods in every direction. Suddenly, gray clad warriors raced onto the road. The Torak soldiers struck them down with arrows. Another group of gray warriors flooded onto the road and were followed by Torak soldiers. In moments it was over and the silence was broken only by the murmurs of the wounded.
The Torak soldiers in the gully rose cautiously and gathered in the center of the road. From both sides of the road, more Torak soldiers emerged from the forest.
“I want a count of the enemy,” shouted Cortain Talli as the Torak officer strode to the center of the road. “Any wounded are to be brought to me here on the road. Each squad, count your own men. I want to know of any deaths or injuries to Lord Marak’s forces.”
Black clad Torak soldiers ran in every direction. The abandoned horses were rounded up and the wagons halted. It took an hour before Cortain Talli had the information he wanted.
“A full corte of gray warriors are accounted for,” reported a Torak soldier. “All are dead except for the two before you. We had some light injuries, mostly to the escorting squad, but none are serious. The Qubari armor proved to work well.”
“Excellent,” smiled Cortain Talli. “Separate the prisoners. I want to talk to them one at a time. Did you search the dead?”
“We did,” nodded the soldier. “They carried nothing on them besides their weapons, not even a coin among them.”
The soldiers escorting the wagons had regrouped and mounted. They awaited permission to continue their journey. Cortain Talli approached one of the prisoners and knelt down before the seated man.
“Who are you?” asked Cortain Talli.
The gray warrior did not reply. The cortain drew a knife and held it to the prisoner’s throat.
“I will ask you again,” Talli said threateningly.
“I will answer no questions,” spat the prisoner. “You cannot expect a prisoner to break his Vows of Service by giving you information. I will give new Vows of Service and nothing more.”
“Gray warriors do not honor their Vows of Service,” retorted the cortain. “While I know that you are not really a gray warrior, I have every right to treat you as one. Do you forget that you are not wearing your clan colors?”
The blood drained out of the prisoner’s face as he glanced down at his gray clothes. In Khadora, captives of war were treated honorably. They were forced to swear new Vows of Service to their captors, but gray warriors belonged to no clan. As such, they were not entitled to any dealings of honor, because they were men without honor. Cortain Talli could do whatever he wished with a captured gray warrior, and the prisoner suddenly realized it.
“But I am a clansman,” protested the prisoner. “You say you already know that. Treat me with respect.”
“Not while you are clothed in gray,” Talli shook his head. “Do you wear your clan colors underneath?” he asked as his knife cut into the neckline of the prisoner’s gray tunic.
“No,” pleaded the prisoner. “We hid our uniforms on the other side of the rise.”
“We will see about that,” Cortain Talli said as he signaled for one of his soldiers. “What clan do you belong to, and where did you hide your uniforms?”
The prisoner hesitated as the summoned soldier approached.
“There will be great trouble if I answer your question,” protested the prisoner. “You do not know who you are dealing with.”
“I aim to know,” insisted Cortain Talli. “As a gray warrior, your death will linger for days. If I decide that you are a clansman, I will take you prisoner, and your fate will reside with Lord Marak.”
“Lord Marak will be dead
within the fortnight,” sighed the prisoner. “What good will issuing vows to him do for me?”
“I am not sure,” shrugged the cortain. “Either way, you will still be alive a fortnight from now. If you cooperate, you will probably be defending Lord Marak. If not, you will be wishing for a death that is long overdue.”
“I am from the Nordon clan,” confessed the prisoner. “Our uniforms are hidden in a cave just beyond the ridge. You will find it by looking for a large lightning struck tree. The cave is just behind it.”
Cortain Talli nodded to his soldier and the man took off running.
“You made the right choice, soldier,” Talli said to the prisoner. “Lord Marak will not be dying anytime soon. Why is a member of the Lords’ Council attacking our caravans?”
“That is something that I cannot answer,” objected the prisoner. “I am still under Vows of Service to Lord Patel of the Nordon clan. You are asking me to violate those vows, yet you know that I cannot.”
“Imperial soldiers coming!” shouted one of the Torak soldiers.
Cortain Talli rose and gazed down the road. A full corte of Imperial soldiers were approaching. He walked away from the prisoner and tried to meet the new arrivals before they started asking too many questions. As he approached them, he saw that they were escorting a mediator for the Lords’ Council. He bowed out of respect for the mediator.
“Greetings, Katzu,” said Cortain Talli.
“Cortain Talli,” replied the mediator. “I see that we have interrupted a battle of some proportions. What is going on here?”
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