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Armies of the Silver Mage

Page 21

by Christian Freed


  Steleon realized his anger was being directed at the wrong person and smiled back at the runner. “Run back to Maelor and give him my warmest regards. Tell him to ride in at dawn so as to bring hope to our men. It would be an honor to fight alongside him.”

  “Yes sir,” he replied and ducked back outside.

  Steleon sighed. The last thing the kingdom needed was the death of their king. Provided they won the war, Averon would be in need of strong nobility to see them through the rebuilding and winter months. His thoughts were disturbed as the first cries of alarm rang throughout the camp. Darkness was falling. He took up his sword and stormed outside. It didn’t take long for him to see the problem. Distant torch light announced the arrival of Gren. Soldiers darted through the camp en route to battle positions. Members of the war council gathered. The clamor of steel and armor sang loudly as the army of Averon readied to do battle. Steleon raised his looking glass and spied the enemy. A thin smile cracked his lips. With the light of the dying day he could make out the mass of Goblins heading towards them. It was only the vanguard. The main body was nowhere in sight. Still, the van held thousands of soldiers. Steleon decided to take the war to them.

  “Captain Melgit!” he called out, and the cavalryman appeared.

  Desire blazed in his eyes. The vengeance in his heart was more than enough to do what needed to be done. He had a broad smile, as if he already knew what he was being asked to do.

  “The enemy is foolishly taking their time in deploying. Take your force across the river just upstream from here and show them the importance of speed. Do as much damage as you can and get back here. Don’t become so engaged that you can’t escape. I have need of you once the main body arrives. We’ll provide archers and pike men to cover your retreat.”

  Melgit nodded approvingly. “Five hundred is a good number. Give the boys a chance to wet their blades properly.”

  “You’re a dangerous man,” Steleon laughed. “I think you already had that plan in mind by the time you got here.” He laid a reassuring hand on Melgit’s shoulder and said, “bring as many of our boys home as you can. This skirmish is just the beginning. Nothing foolish.”

  “On my honor,” smiled Melgit before he strode off shouting orders.

  Steleon almost felt sorry for the unsuspecting Goblins and the fury he just unleashed.

  * * *

  The sounds of battle drifted across the open plain to the western bank of the Thorn river where Steleon waited. Frigid waters surged up to lap at the cold mud. The air was chill and downright freezing when the winds blew enough. He was mildly surprised it hadn’t started snowing yet.

  The thunder of hooves, cries and screams of death, and the unforgiving sound of steel piercing flesh echoed into the night. Steleon stood and listened to the carnage for close to an hour before leaving the river bank. His heart started to race the way it always did during a battle. He knew Melgit would return soon and there was more to plan. Much more. He retreated behind the line of archers and waited.

  Hallis and Norgen were there as well, waiting for the chance to join the fight. The archers drew back and raised their bows to the sky. Ranks of horsemen came flying back across the river. There were hundreds of Goblins on their trail. Steleon tried counting empty saddles as they sped past but the task was too difficult in the dark. Then the arrows loosed. Goblin bodies fell. Some tumbled into the river and were washed away, their dark blood polluting the waters. Archers fired as fast as targets were made available.

  Melgit was the last to cross, smiling viciously. The Goblins finally realized the severity of their situation and began an disorderly retreat. The van had been routed. Steleon ordered the cease fire and walked up to Melgit’s frothing horse. The army cheered and roared at the victory. Hundreds of bodies lay across the river in a twisted mass of flesh. The enemy had finally been bled.

  “You should have seen their eyes!” Melgit exclaimed. “It must have been like the underworld opening up for them. Ha. We made three passes before they managed a defense. I’d say we took down over a fifth of their strength.”

  One fifth. One thousand enemy soldiers. Steleon wanted to rejoice, if even for a moment, but couldn’t. Tens of thousands more were marching on them.

  “How many did we lose?” he asked.

  “Fifteen,” Melgit answered. “Not bad for our first night’s work.”

  That much they agreed on.

  “Have your men stand down. They did a fine job and deserve the rest. I’ll send a runner for you when I need you,” he said and then added, “thank you for not getting killed.”

  Melgit laughed again. “As if they had a chance.”

  There were times Steleon thought his own army was going to do him in long before the enemy got the chance.

  * * *

  Sometime during the night, hours after the battle and still more before the dawn, King Maelor and his royal guard entered the camp. Sentries snapped to attention and readied to rouse the general but the king wished them to stand at ease and remain on duty. The soldiers needed their sleep more than he needed an official welcome. His band continued the ride into the camp. Maelor was little surprised upon seeing Steleon warming himself before a small fire, as if he’d been waiting all night.

  “Don’t you ever sleep?” Maelor asked and pulled his leather gloves off to warm his own hands after dismounting.

  Steleon smirked. “Not if I can help it. How was your journey, sire?”

  “Uneventful. Though I hear there was a bit of excitement earlier?”

  “It seems there are spies everywhere these days,” Steleon replied.

  He offered his friend the king a chair so they could sit and speak of what had already happened and what he was expecting in the near future. Dawn came and found them moved on to the dilemmas of tactics and supply trains. Halfway through the morning sleep finally took them.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  The lightened peaks of the Thed Mountains lacked majesty and impression. They were nowhere near the height of the eastern Gren range and lacked much of the menace. Rich in ore, Dwarves and Men had long fought over the mines. Their gentle slopes were inviting up to the snow laden peaks. The Sibit River laid a dozen leagues away, hidden behind rolling hills and lightly forested plains. Eagles circled the treetops, stretching their wings in the chill afternoon. A brown rabbit pricked up its ears at the sound of approaching hoof beats.

  Tarren rode on Ris Kaverling’s back just as she had every day for the past two weeks. He and his band of Centaurs were friendly enough and twice as deadly when it came to battle. She felt entirely protected from harm. They’d seen no signs of another Goblin war party since that first day and that bolstered her confidence. Ris even cheered up, offering his time to tell her the how and whys of Goblins and the bitter wars fought between them and the fair races of Malweir.

  Dark clouds moved in not long past noon, bringing with them the first true whispers of winter. Delicate flakes drifted down and melted the instant they touched the near frozen ground. Tarren pulled her dark blue hood up to protect her against the angry winds.

  “Not a good sign,” Ris told her. “It’ll make for easy tracking if it sticks. We should hurry before more Goblins come.”

  Tarren wasn’t so sure. “Do you really think they’re still hunting us? There has been no sign for days. And Vinz and the others haven’t seen anything. Surely the Goblins must have given up already.”

  “The enemy is many things, Tarren. Deceitful most of all. They will lull us into thinking we are safe and come upon us unawares. No, Tarren, we must remain vigilant though it pains us at times.”

  “I was only thinking,” she dejectedly said.

  Ris nodded. “I know, and I know this is a strange life for you, but this is a dangerous world. I wish it were otherwise. Trust in me as Dakeb has. He believes you have yet to play an important role in the way the future will unfold.”

  To this she took heart. She thought of her family and how much she missed them. No doubt they felt the s
ame, perhaps even thinking she was dead. The notion chilled her. Most of all, she desperately wanted to see Delin again. He was the sole reason for her leaving home. All she wanted was to find her friends and bring them all home so they could grow old in Fel Darrins and live unadventurous lives. It was a simple dream for a simpler time.

  Another hour went by and then the first great rock formation came into view. Heavy shadows fell, prematurely darkening the area. Tarren’s heart felt cold, warning her not to enter. The Centaurs reined to a halt.

  “Make the camp. We enter at dawn,” Ris ordered. He turned to Tarren and added, “There are many creatures in this maze that I have no wish to confront in the night. Thuil Lake and Ipn Shal lay but two days hence. There is time still.”

  “What is this place? Why does it feel so cold?” she asked.

  “Tis an evil place name Shadom Gein, my lady. Many mages died here. Some were good and some evil. It is said their ghosts still haunt the rocks. I, for one, will not venture inside without the power of the sun,” Ris replied.

  A deep horn blow cut his thoughts off.

  “Goblins!”

  Torches could be seen moving through the tree behind them and from the right. The trap was carefully set, pinching the small band of Centaurs between them and the haunted rocks of Shadom Gein.

  Ris looked at her with concern. “There are too many to fight. We now have no choice but to enter.”

  Vinz edged closer, sword in hand. “Let us fight past them. They can’t be as organized as we believe.”

  “No. I’ll not risk another life to foolishness.”

  “Yet you will risk us all in there?” Vinz exclaimed. His fear of Shadom Gein tainting his words.

  Demon faces formed in the rocks, mocking them to come and find doom. Tarren shuddered. To her, this was the darkest place in the world. Poison tipped arrows began darting past. Some struck the rock faces in a shower of sparks. The Centaurs returned fire and Goblins fell. Blood lust raged in the Goblins eyes.

  “Quickly! Into the rocks!” Ris shouted.

  Vinz grabbed his forearm. “You’ll kill us all.”

  “Then we’re dead either way.”

  Javelins and arrows started falling around them in thicker clouds. Time was up. Tarren clutched tightly to Ris’s back as they dashed into Shadom Gein. They heard the Goblin cheer but kept running. The risk was worth it as far as Ris was concerned.

  “Barse, Vinz, slow them down,” Ris barked.

  Both Centaurs nodded once and stalked back towards the enemy. Each knew what was being asked of them. Vinz held his tongue, uneasy with the decision. He didn’t approve of entering the haunted place, but he wasn’t exactly ready to die either. The choice was beyond him however, so he silently agreed to face down the Goblins. At least his death would be honorable.

  “You’re asking them to die,” Tarren whispered.

  Ris didn’t slow. “I’m asking them to keep us alive.”

  The six remaining Centaurs rode on in silence, the only sound was that of their hooves on the forbidding stone. Moans and wails drifted up from the rocks. Whispers of terrible deaths. There were no warnings, no threats to turn back. It was as if the dark spirits wanted them to continue. A pale glow crept around the corner towards them. They halted and pranced nervously. Snow continued to fall, driven down by forceful winds. The moon’s haunting light emerged briefly from behind the clouds. Temperatures dropped sharply until they could see their breath. Tarren shivered and pulled her cloak even tighter. Trapped between Goblins and ghouls, she wished she had planned better by bringing more than just the tiny dagger at her hip.

  “Keep your eyes closed and you shouldn’t be harmed,” Ris told her. “Spirits often lose their focus when they discover no one is paying attention.”

  He then spoke to his brothers in their own tongue. Convincing them to carry on was a formidable task but they finally relented and entered the eerie glow. The first skeleton they saw was partially decomposed and rotting away. None could guess what it had once been, only that it had been dead for a very long time. More and more skeletons awaited them as they wound through the mist enshrouded maze. Piles of gnawed upon bones lay heaped and broken in the corners. There were so many that Ris felt like he was back on a battlefield again.

  Madness was said to haunt this place, ensnaring all who were foolish enough to enter. Tarren began to regret their decision. She could feel the hatred and envy weeping from the very rock. Ris suddenly stopped. Foul tendril of crimson red stabbed their way through the ground and convulsed in a mass of smoke and wonder. Some of the Centaurs turned to flee, but Ris knew it was already too late.

  A wraith stood before them. It was a full seven feet tall and menacing from beneath a shimmering cloak of mists. The body had no substance and they could see through it. Ris and Tarren felt their very bones grow cold with fear. The wraith pointed a long, bony finger at them and spoke in a grinding voice.

  “You should not have come here. Only the dead may travel freely through Shadom Gein. Go back now else evil befalls you.”

  Tarren gripped Ris harder until her knuckles bled white.

  The Centaur lowered his weapons. He knew he was taking a chance with their lives, but the wraith was warning them. It could easily have killed them all by now.

  “Our enemies hunt us from behind and are many. If we were to turn back it would end in our deaths. Forward is the only path we have,” he told the wraith.

  The wraith stared back menacingly. “Why have you come here?”

  More spirits formed, quickly surrounding the tiny band.

  “We serve Dakeb the Mage,” Ris told them. “We must reach Ipn Shal and this is our only option.”

  The wraiths seemed to recoil at the name of their ruined home. Once, it was a mighty place of knowledge and friendship. Once, but no more. Whispers danced from the rocks. Dakeb, they exclaimed. How could he still live? Some were angry, others curious. The leader drifted closer to Ris.

  “How is it you know Dakeb?”

  The Centaur refused to back down. “He has been a friend of my people for years. The Silver Mage has returned and seeks to enslave us all. Dakeb fights him. We are trying to help preserve our world from that evil.”

  Agonizing wails went up upon hearing Sidian’s name. His most loyal supporters raised their hands to sky to smote down these intruders but the souls of the good stopped them. Wraith battled wraith until only one remained. He turned his empty hood back on the small band of Centaurs.

  “You may pass, but you must deliver this message. Tell Dakeb that his friends of old are here for him when the need arises. We shall remove your enemy but you may never again enter this land. To do so is forfeit of your souls.”

  The wraith disappeared back into the nothing. When Ris looked again he was met with the gruesome sight of the remains of soldiers and guards. All were armed and rotted and ready to do battle. They turned as one in a crisp movement accented by the ringing of steel. One by one the ranks stole away into the maze of Shadom Gein to meet the Goblins head on.

  Ris wasted no time. He and the others ran for their lives. The way was surprisingly straight. It was one long stretch until they came into open fields beyond the gloom and haze. They finally came to a halt not far from the last walls of Shadom Gein and rested. All were covered in a slick sheen of sweat and breathing hard.

  “How much further to Ipn Shal?” Tarren asked after she dismounted.

  Ris drank deep from his canteen. “Two days if we’re lucky. Winter is settling though and ours has not been the best of luck. Still, I deem we will be there soon enough.”

  She took comfort from being in the place where so many had done great deeds.

  Back inside the rock maze a chorus of screams bleated into the heavy air. They knew without asking that the Goblins were being slaughtered to the last.

  THIRTY-SIX

  The light of a single torch barely lit the darkened halls. Once there was great life here. A grand environment with purpose and intent. The futur
e had been so bright then, back before the greed and corruption moved like a snake through the undercurrent to deceive and destroy. Kings and heads of state often visited, partaking in lavish balls and grand feasts worthy of the gods themselves.

  Joy left the world the day evil was allowed to flourish and expand beyond the walls. Malweir forever changed that day. Both good and bad suddenly had direction and the war was begun. They fought for months and years. They fought for control of all around them. They fought until they no longer knew why they were fighting. League upon league was destroyed in this ignorance. In the end only a handful remained. Their kind was all but extinct. Most of the survivors tucked themselves away in quieter lands untouched by the war and were lost to time. But there was one who refused to let the quest die.

  He slipped into another land and seduced the leaders. He spent centuries searching for the four shards of the cracked crystal and bled the world for them. Dakeb had fought him before, and barely survived. But Sidian was crafty and found a new land to conquer. The land of Gren. It was an easy target for the rulers were weak men seeded with jealousy and corruption. Soon the Silver Mage owned Gren and enslaved all within.

  Dakeb reflected on those distant moments as he strode through the once splendid halls of his ancient home. Now Ipn Shal was dusty and filled with cobwebs. Centuries of dust hid the magnificence but he could still see it if he looked hard enough. The halls and chambers were the same as they had been. Rats and other vermin ran from him, startled as much by his presence as he was by theirs. His heart grew tired from it all. This was the first time he had returned to the fortress city since its destruction all those long years ago. Haunting feelings assailed him endlessly. Dakeb did his best to shake off the demons of his past. He knew time was running out and there was much to do. He needed to hurry.

  Sidian was already making his move for Averon. The first units of his army was already marching down onto the plains. Brave as they were, not even King Maelor’s men had a chance against so many. The dragon alone saw to that. Dakeb forced a smile. He’d faced one of Sidian’s flying beasts before long ago and won. But those were different times, with different allies. As it stood now, his new friends were coming to him. The sword and the stone were already moving and the girl was closer than all. Perhaps there was hope after all.

 

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