by Jaxon Reed
“You’ll notice that Deedles taught you how to cast the Globe of Expulsion without using gestures.”
Mita nodded.
“That came in handy on the bottom of the pile.”
“Precisely. She taught you how to do it that way because cats don’t use hand gestures, for obvious reasons. I assure you, the wizard who developed the spell came up with corresponding hand movements for it. Had a human taught it to you, you would have learned them as well.
“We’ll practice on casting an ambulation spell on yourself without moving, so you can counteract any spells of paralysis placed on you during battle.”
Mita nodded with the new knowledge, determined to learn whatever was needed to defeat the frustrating facsimile. Then a thought crossed her mind.
“Master, why do I need to know how to defeat a wizard anyway? Won’t my battles mostly be against men? I know there’s a rogue wizard at the moment, but once he’s taken care of things will go back to normal, won’t they?”
“It’s a fair question.”
Oldstone handed her the cat. Deedles snuggled into her arms, and she took over stroking the cat’s back.
“Obviously, we are going to face the rogue very soon now, and I want you to be as prepared as possible. It will take a concerted effort by all of us to defeat him.
“But the larger answer to your question is that a wizard, once committed to battle against you, will always be your most formidable foe. Therefore when you train, you should train to defeat a wizard, your greatest enemy. All lesser foes will then seem easy by comparison.
“And, in an even broader answer, who knows what the future may bring? Today one wizard has gone rogue from the council. Tomorrow, three or four may follow. A court mage may discover he is stronger than he knew, and decide to cause his king and queen problems that require your services. Perhaps another powerful dwarf wizard will trouble human lands again. Or, wizards from other lands may descend on ours with powerful armies.
“So yes, I hope your encounters with wizards on the battlefield are rare. But, when you do encounter one, you need to be prepared for him. You need to be prepared for anything, and figure out ways to defeat him regardless of what he throws against you.”
He paused, looking down at the purring Deedles cradled in her arms, then back up at the castle where he knew Redstone and Loadstone waited.
“Sadly, I think we’ve run out of time to train you much longer before your first real encounter with one.”
CHAPTER 13
Surprisingly few lives were lost in the deluge. Supplies and time were the greater casualties, Darkstone decided.
After assuring himself the commander and his captains had a firm grip on things, and reassuring them the roads were better just a half mile away, Darkstone flew back to Kathar on a long stream of fire and black smoke.
He landed at the royal ironworks inside the city walls. The workers tending the smithies ran in fear from the site of fire and smoke settling in the outer yard, the ragged wizard riding down on top of combustion from the sky.
The foreman had seen it before, though, and stepped forward to meet the wizard once he touched the ground.
“Are you finished with my metal men, Jeskins?”
Jeskins bobbed his head and made an awkward half bow.
“Aye, Wizard. If you will follow me, I will show them to you.”
Darkstone trailed the foreman through a maze of huts and forges toward the back of the ironworks. They came to a section fenced off from the rest, with a tall double gate blocking the path. Jeskins pulled out a set of keys, selected one, unlocked the gates and pulled them open.
Inside the yard standing in rows, a hundred metal men stared blankly back at them. Giant broadswords dangled from their right hands.
“All finished, and all built to your specifications, Wizard. Each metal man is thirty paces tall, with fully articulated arms and legs and heads that swivel. Each is outfitted with a quality sword, ten paces in length. The torsos are hollow for storage, with doors in the back near the shoulders.”
Darkstone nodded, smiling. The metal men were indeed designed just as he had specified.
“Well done, Jeskins. Your request for payment to the royal treasury will be acknowledged and filled.”
Jeskins bobbed his head again, and smiled.
“Thankee kindly, Wizard. The boys and I were wondering how you were planning on moving them, now that they’re done and all.”
The wizard smiled back at the foreman.
“I’m not. They’ll move themselves.”
He began to dance, holding his hands high above his head. Jeskins backed away, giving him room. Darkstone cast a complicated Spell of Autonomous Ambulation, and several arcs of light spread out from his upraised arms to settle on the heads of the metal men. Light glowed from their eyes, which were little small windows in hollow, cylindrical skulls.
When he finished, all the metal men swiveled their heads and stared at him. He made a motion with his hands, and they began to walk, filing in order out the double gate.
The men who previously shied away from the wizard now cautiously peered out from their huts, watching in amazement as the metal men stomped through the ironworks. Many had spent time helping to forge and construct the giants, often wondering about the purpose for such a project.
The leading theory presumed they were statues of some sort, to be placed at strategic points throughout the realm. Few, if any, had guessed the wizard would ambulate them, although now it seemed obvious considering their articulated arms and legs.
They clanked by, stomping the ground with metallic precision, the great broadswords swinging in time with their strides.
One old ironsmith turned to the younger men at his forge and frowned in despair.
“Creator forgive us. We’ve made an army for Darkstone!”
THE WIZARD FLEW up on a streak of black smoke to the head of the line, directing the metal men toward Market Square as they exited the ironworks.
People in the streets cried out in horror as the monstrosities approached. Horses spooked, tumping their carriages. Abandoned carts were smashed by metal feet as their owners ran away.
Soon the procession arrived at Market Square. People on the north side, where they made entrance, ran screaming in all directions.
Darkstone gestured with his hand, and the doors in the backs of their torsos fell open. He made another gesture, and foodstuff from the market streamed up and away from stalls, flying through the air toward the open doors and inside the chests of the metal men.
The merchants, who so recently had seen the depletion of their wares by the departing army, now found their food flying off into the hollow torsos of a hundred metal men.
Darkstone ignored their howls of protest, and directed the giants toward the city gates. They walked through Market Square, crunching stalls, tents, and tables beneath iron feet.
When they approached the gates, the guards looked up in surprise and bewilderment at the procession approaching them. Darkstone made another gesture with his hand and the gates flew open. People entering and leaving scrambled out of the way as the metal men marched out of the city. With another flourish of his hand, Darkstone made them march faster. They picked up their pace, and tromped in unison toward the distant crossroads.
SSSASDFASDFHE BHHLASDF;
Stin rounded the corner out of the stable door, and pulled Horse to a stop. He flipped a copper to the dung shoveler, a strapping brown-haired boy who snatched it out of the air.
“Can you tell me which way’s the exit to Sapphire?”
The boy pointed down the street.
“All entrances ’cept the Hidden Forest one are thataways. Signs will show you which one to take.”
Stin nodded his thanks, snapped the reins and pulled them in the direction the boy pointed. Horse started down the street at a brisk trot.
He heard his name called out, and pulled the reins to bring Horse to a stop. Bellasondra ran over to him.
“There you are! I was looking all over for you. Are you going to donate Horse and the wagon for the battle?”
Several remarks raced through Stin’s mind at once, from a witty retort to an impassioned plea for her to join him on the road to Sapphire.
Before he could say anything, Greystone rounded the corner followed by the dwarves.
“There you are, Master Stin! I see you have your horse and cart. We were just coming to look for you to discuss this very thing.”
Stin tensed. How could the wizard know he was leaving? Would they take his cart and force him to walk away instead of ride?
He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything Greystone continued.
“Prince Dudge here has the need for utmost speed in returning to Ore Stad. I fear it’s a two day walk for him. He can’t ride a horse, either, at least not one of ours. However, a cart fits the bill perfectly!”
Dudge approached Stin, looking up at him from a sharper angle than the humans.
“I ha’ three gold t’ give ye. Th’ Norweg Royal Treasury will pay three more fer th’ use o’ yer horse an’ cart, along with th’ oats. I’ll give that t’ ye when I return.”
Stin’s mouth dropped open. Three gold now, three later. The sum staggered his imagination. Six gold for an old broken down horse and cart . . .
Horse looked back at him and snorted, as if asking, “Why the wait?”
Stin looked back at Horse and thought a moment.
“Your Highness, old Horse here is, well he’s not fit for heavy travel anymore. Perhaps if he were twenty years younger he could make a speedy trip, but I fear he’s seen his better days.”
“Oh, I can take care of that,” Greystone said.
He made a flourish with his hands and Horse disappeared in a cloud of white smoke. When it drifted up and away, Horse stood transformed into a large, gray, muscular warhorse. The cart, too, seemed newer and nicer, better built and sporting new wheels and light gray paint.
Horse looked back at Stin and snorted again, this time much louder. Stin pulled his jaw shut. The eyes were the same. Inside, he must still be Horse, Stin thought. But the outside looked completely new. He looked much closer to being worth six gold, Stin thought.
“I, uh, I suppose he is yours for the nonce, Highness.”
He climbed down from the driver’s seat. Bellasondra quickly ran up and hugged him.
“That is so noble of you, Stin! This is the best contribution you could make!”
Dudge reached into his purse and pulled out three gold coins. As Stin took them, the prince jumped back. All three of the dwarves looked at Stin warily, watching his every move.
Stin and Bellasondra exchanged glances. He shrugged.
Satisfied he would lose no more coins, Prince Dudge passed Stin by a wide berth and climbed up into the driver’s seat of the transformed cart. He took the reins, and Horse reared up on his back legs with a loud whinny.
Dudge snapped the reins and yelled, “Hah!”
Horse bolted down the street, carrying Dudge and the cart with him.
THE METAL MEN caught up with the main army at their next camping spot down from the crossroads. The roads had dried out quickly enough past the storm’s perimeter, but it still had taken the army most of the day’s remainder to pack up and move through the muck.
A few scant miles later the commander had called a halt as dusk settled, and the soldiers reestablished a camp on the side of the road.
Everyone roused during the first watch when the sound of loud metal clanking reached them. No one had ever heard anything quite like it, and nobody knew what to expect. Everyone grabbed a weapon and scrambled into battle formation.
Darkstone flew in on flames and black smoke. He landed at the commander’s tent and conferred with him briefly. The commander came out of the tent and ordered his men to stand down.
Soon the encampment was surrounded by the giants, their forms dim in the gloom. Nobody slept well that night. Nobody left the camp, either. If any had thought about deserting, they set such notions aside.
In the morning, the soldiers woke to find a hundred metal men surrounding their camp and facing outward, like sentries. Darkstone flew up on a column of fire and black smoke, and made a motion with his hand. The doors on the metal torsos flew open, and all the foodstuff stolen from Market Square sailed out and toward the supply wagons. The army was now replenished; all that was lost from the wizard storm had been replaced.
After breakfast, the soldiers moved to break camp. Darkstone sent the metal men ahead. Soon the army followed them down the road, at a wary distance.
HIDDEN within the woods near the Emerald border, Loadstone and Redstone watched the army progress toward their position.
Redstone held a scrying window open as a distant hawk soared above the line of metal men clanking in a line down the road. He waved his hand, and the view in the window changed, offering a closer look.
“Monstrosities!”
“Aye. I wonder what your rainfall would do to ’em, Loadstone. Make ’em rust?”
“I fear we’ve lost that element of surprise. Look, the rogue accompanies them.”
Redstone nodded. There would be little use in starting up another storm.
“I have another idea, Loadstone. Have ye ever seen a tree move?”
“A tree? I’ve seen them cut down and moved. I’ve seen their branches move in the wind. Is that what you mean?”
Redstone smiled and shook his head. He waved his hand and the scrying window disappeared.
“Follow me.”
He shot up into the air on a large chunk of ground.
Loadstone created a thick gray cloud around his feet. The cloud rose up into the air after Redstone, carrying Loadstone with it.
Soon the two were floating above the road where it cut into the Hidden Forest. Redstone began waving his arms, performing a complicated spell. He threw his hands wide at the spell’s completion, and thousands of sparkling lights popped into existence all around him, then fell slowly on the trees below, each spark seeking out a different tree.
As the light disappeared into the leaves, nothing happened for a moment. Then, the wizards heard creaks and groans from thousands of trunks and tens of thousands of branches.
Loadstone watched, fascinated, as the trees uprooted themselves and moved a few feet from their former locations. The trees on the left side of the road moved right, the ones on the right side moved left. Soon, the road disappeared as hundreds of trees shifted over it, replanting themselves in new positions.
Redstone glanced over at Loadstone and flashed a toothy grin.
“No more road!”
“Excellent! Maybe that will slow them down.”
“Wood that it could, sirrah!”
Loadstone chuckled at the pun, then thought of his own.
“You have a mean bark, my friend.”
“Aye, I’d say I’m well rooted in tree magic.”
“You’ve branched out since I first met you.”
Redstone nodded.
“I can’t think of any more.”
“Out on a limb, ay?”
“Ye got me. I say ye win this one.”
“Want me to leaf you alone?”
“Enough!”
TOMLIN STOOD in the library of the grand manor, feeling rather awkward. The butler had let him in at his knock, and bade him wait in the richly furnished room while announcing his arrival to the princess.
Tomlin had actually enjoyed the rest from their journey after the fight with Darkstone that had cost so many men. But now that the same wizard threatened an even greater battle, he found it necessary to consult with Margwen.
He had mixed emotions. On the one hand, he relished an opportunity to fight the wizard again, and perhaps have the chance to help take him out. It would be sweet justice to help defeat the rogue.
On the other hand, his duty first and foremost involved the safety of his princess. But he could not order her to leave, nor could he engag
e in the battle without her permission.
So, a consultation was in order. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uneasily.
“Captain Tomlin! It’s so good to see you.”
The butler held the door open, and Margwen swept into the room. Tomlin bowed low in greeting.
When he straightened, he noted the princess did not look like a woman traveling. She wore an elegant dress he had never seen before, as well as makeup. Her hair had recently been styled by somebody, presumably a servant. She looked as splendid as if they were still back in Coral Palace instead of stuck, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere.
“Your Highness, I must confer with you regarding this upcoming battle and discuss your wishes on the matter.”
“Isn’t it exciting, Tomlin? This is the same wizard behind the murder of Prince Trant’s family, and the assault on our party. We have an opportunity to help make things right!”
Tomlin blinked, as he processed what she said.
“Prince Trant?”
“Oh, did I not tell you? By the Hightower, Tomlin, I fear I’ve let you and your men stay at the inn all this time and nobody has told you the news! Yes, Trant is the Lost Prince, the sole survivor of Endrick’s bloody coup on Emerald. If we can help remove that false king, Trant is Emerald’s rightful heir to the throne, and he can take back the position robbed from him as a child. Isn’t it exciting?”
“Begging Your Highness’s pardon, but that’s not exciting at all. The best course of action is to see you and Lady Isabeth home. According to the innkeeper, the village has a magical gateway that comes out near Coral City.”
“You think I should go home?”
She tilted her head at him, her brows furrowed in confusion as if he were speaking gibberish. He nodded, earnestly.
“My duty, Highness, is to ensure your safety. If Darkstone brings an army to this village, I cannot guarantee that.”
“So you would have us run? You would let this perfidy continue unabated, unchecked by whatever power we might bring to help defeat it?”
“Not at all, Highness. With your permission, I would send Beet and Altor along with you and Lady Isabeth. I will stay behind and help Trant — Prince Trant — and Wizard Greystone and fight the rogue.”
