The stunned woman was on her hands and knees while looking up at them. “Giros, stop. No more fighting.”
Giros refused to be dissuaded. He had already lost too many friends. “No! This man owes the gods for the lives he has taken!” The pirate began pulling the trigger.
With a flick of his left wrist, Zeren used his mindforce to push the enemy musket’s barrel up into the air while he dashed forward, drawing his sword. Giros was completely surprised as his shot fired upwards. Zeren closed in and swung his blade in a downward strike towards his opponent’s head. Giros used his musket to block the incoming slice, but Zeren altered his strike the moment the length of the gun parried his initial blow, turning his cut into a direct thrust towards the other man’s face. The sharp point of the sword penetrated the cartilage in the man’s nose and continued on and into the frontal lobe of his brain.
Zeren withdrew his blade and backed away as his opponent’s eyes turned white. Giros crumpled to the ground. The fallen pirate’s body twitched for a few moments before it completely stopped moving.
The woman had tears in her eyes as she held back the child. “You are a Magus. Why did you slaughter my people?”
Zeren rattled the blade he carried to shake off the drops of blood along its length. “Your people were trying to kill me, woman. I have but one life, and it is most precious to me.”
She sat down on a nearby rock, cradling the whimpering little girl in her sunburned arms. “I am sorry. Had we known you were a Magus, we would not have attacked you.”
Zeren pointed at the column of smoke out in the distance. “Would you have spared the crew in that land ship as well?”
The woman nodded meekly. “We thought you were from the hated Khanate. It seems now you are a stranger in these lands.”
“The crew your men slaughtered was from the Khanate, along with one of my own,” Zeren said. “My people are from Lethe, and we have come to trade. I care not for your internal struggles, but you have made more enemies because of this.”
“We seek only to survive,” she said softly. “We cannot serve the will of their living god, and we hunt their land ships only to take what we need. Are there other Magi with you?”
Zeren sheathed his blade. “I shall tell you nothing more, woman. Why do you keep asking me about the Magi?”
She pointed to the sword he had in his scabbard. “That blade is my husband’s. His name is Fumal Led.”
Zeren was taken aback. “What did you say?”
The child she was holding had finally calmed down and she began to stroke the little girl’s hair. “I am Syviss, wife of the Magus Fumal Led. This child is named Thalena, our daughter.”
Chapter 12
When the pall of eventide cloaked itself over the surrounding landscape, Miri and Rion began their long journey inside the abandoned part of the tunnels. Lord Vorconis’s instructions to her were precise: she was to take the boy along the more circuitous subterranean route to avoid detection by the Khatun and her allies. The crude map he had given her indicated there was a hidden exit leading out to a distant crag at the far end of the range. Out near the open desert would be a small sand sail waiting to take them away towards a hidden freehold in the more remote area in the Sea of Dunes.
“Stay close, Rion,” Miri said as they continued on down the old tunnel. Her right hand carried the spear, its tip pointing to the floor, while her left hand was held high due to the burning torch that alighted their way. She had a long talk with Orilion just before they left; Miri had told him to search for Zeren and to remain publicly neutral for the time being. When Orilion had asked her if Vorconis’s true intentions were honorable, she merely reiterated he was an opportunist. The Khan’s brother would keep to his word as long as he felt that continuing the alliance with the Lethean expedition was to his advantage. She hoped Orilion would take her advice to heart and not choose a side until she returned.
Passing through the numerous deserted burrows reminded her of the time when she and Rion had made the perilous quest to discover the city of Lethe, after she had exiled herself from the Arum Navar. Their wanderings across the Great Silt Sea had almost ended in disaster, and her allies were killed when they fought numerous enemies and monsters, only to find that Lethe was as dangerous as being out in the wastes. Glancing at the boy, she hoped he would be better at forgetting their painful past than her.
Rion gave her a slight smile when their eyes met. “Are you alright, Miri?”
Miri couldn’t help but return his pleasant gaze. Being with the boy always made her feel blissful. Perhaps this is the way how mothers truly feel when they are with their children, she thought. “Just fleeting concerns is all. How about you? Are you well?”
The boy nodded as he continued to walk briskly beside her. “I use the skills you have taught me to defend against mindsense as a way to seal away the dark recollections that sometimes intrude upon my thoughts.”
Miri was surprised. “That is a wondrous idea. I taught you some techniques to better strengthen your thought defenses when an enemy Striga attacks you, but I had never expected you to apply this talent for a more practical use. Zeren was right about you.”
Rion’s thin eyebrows shot up. “What did Zeren say about me?”
Miri grinned and gave him a wink. “He says you have far greater wisdom than all the librarians and tellers of Lethe put together. I feel the same way. You will become more powerful than either of us in the coming cycles.”
Rion shook his head. “I can do the mindforce, but I do not believe I can ever have your gifts, Miri.”
“You have something more powerful than either a Magus or Striga,” Miri said. “You have the power of your blood.”
The boy looked away. “I am not sure if it is a gift of Vis or a curse.”
Miri wanted to hold his hand to comfort the boy, but she couldn’t drop the spear she was carrying. “Be not saddened at your power, rather be wary against those who seek to use you because of it.”
Rion fought off the urge to cry. “Why must we all be so cruel? It seems even when we venture onto new lands, the nature of the people in it is as harsh as the beasts of the untamed wastes.”
Miri bit her lip. “I wish I could tell you of a better way, but it seems this is the true state of humanity- we fight and seek to dominate all others, regardless of anything else.”
“The only instance I had ever felt truly happy was during the time I spent with the Arum Navar,” the boy said wistfully. “The life out in the wastes was hard, yet everyone in that tribe was kind to me. How I miss them all.”
Miri got closer to him as she placed her right arm over his shoulder. “They are still with us. Their memories shall live on in our minds, and as long as we do not forget them, then they are never truly dead.”
She could sense the boy had calmed down and returned to a more jovial mood. “Your words carry great insight, Miri,” he said. “I am truly blessed by the gods to have a mother like you.”
Miri staggered a little but quickly recovered, continuing her brisk walk. The boy’s words hit her like no mindsense attack ever could. For Rion to consider him as his mother was the greatest adulation she had ever received. She had never thought of being a parent before, yet she couldn’t help but be drawn to Rion as if he were her own child. They had traveled across the breath of the world and had survived each and every peril despite the almost impossible odds against them. The prophecy of the Gorgon she had met at the Black Redoubt was haunting her, as if it was a fate she had no control over. A gnawing fear shook her confidence to its core, as if warning her to turn back and not pursue the vision that was laid forth. But deep in her heart, she knew the boy would continue on, regardless of the dangers that awaited him, and she had to be there to keep him safe.
There was a junction up ahead. The moment they made it to the intersecting corridors, they were surprised to see the tunnel led into a lighted room up ahead of them. Since the map that had been given to her indicated it was the right direction,
Miri felt she had no choice but to continue onwards. Silently gesturing at Rion to be prepared for conflict, she gripped her spear tightly as they both entered the illuminated space.
The room had a moderately high ceiling. A stone table and several flat topped boulders served as chairs occupied the middle of the area. The lighting came from the smoldering torches that had been placed along the walls. Three men wearing leather gambesons and furs casually sat on the table, looking bored. They all stood up in surprise the moment Miri and Rion entered the room, their hands instinctively clutching the hilt of their arming swords strapped by their waists.
Miri could see their style of armor and furred cloaks indicated they were members of the Zaash tribe, Lord Wulfgen’s men. It seemed Vorconis’s main rival had anticipated these abandoned tunnels might be used as a means of escape, and had posted guards to prevent it. She held her spear point upwards in a non-threatening manner and smiled, hoping she could talk her way past them. “Greetings to you this eventide.”
One of the three men, who wore a copper-colored scale tabard over his leather, stood in front of the others. “You are not allowed past here, you must return back to your quarters.”
Miri’s mental tendrils were already skimming their thoughts, and she knew they were prepared to fight. A conflict was inevitable if they were to escape, but fortunately she had been steadily gathering her reserves of Vis since the encounter with the Exalted in the Great Cavern. The three men standing in front of her had not yet drawn their weapons, and they didn’t seem to be aware she was a Striga.
Using the psionic coils she had already extended out into their minds, Miri delivered mental pulses of pain to the three Zaash tribesmen. The guards began to stagger, two of them crying out in agony and holding their heads with both hands. Their leader’s psyche seemed to be made of sterner stuff, and he only grimaced while clumsily reaching back to draw out his sword. Just as the man with the scale tabard had drawn his blade halfway out, Miri stepped forward, dropped her torch, and began to swing the butt of her spear towards his head with both hands.
The guardsman somehow recovered his train of thought as the other two men had already doubled over into the ground. He could barely see Miri dashing towards him due to the bright flashes of pain in his eyes, but his force of will refused to give in. The man’s footwork was sluggish, but he managed to back away at the last moment, and Miri narrowly missed his head with her downward strike.
Miri continued the psionic assault on all three men while moving forward, trying to get into range with her long spear, but the guard leader kept evading her. The man continued to retreat, making his way backwards to a shelf containing a bone horn. If he could somehow maintain his concentration and blow a little bit of air into the instrument, then an alarm would be raised. As the man was about to reach back towards the shelf, he was suddenly lifted up into the air and thrust into the curved ceiling up above, the top of his head violently colliding with the smooth rock. Miri watched in astonishment as the now stunned guard leader fell back down into the stone floor with a heavy thud. The other two men were also unconscious due to the powerful headaches which shut off their minds and forced them into a stunned slumber.
She turned and looked at the boy. “Was that you?”
Rion’s right arm was raised slightly over his chest. He had been gesturing with it the moment the guard was shoved to the top of the room. “Yes.”
Miri nodded. “It seems your mindforce has grown ever stronger.”
The boy nodded. “In addition to teaching me how to duel, Zeren had also taught me some techniques with my Vis.”
Miri clasped his hand. “Then let us go on. We must find the way out of this place.”
It took them another few hours, but the given map proved to be accurate. Miri and Rion soon emerged into a hollow cliff. Beyond lay a descending ridge that continued on for a few hundred paces out into the sandy wastes. At the edge of the jutting rock spine was a parked sand sail. Taking the boy’s hand a second time, Miri led the way as they scampered along the dusty rocks, making sure they did not slip off and fall into the surrounding sand. A slight wind had picked up, and they could see a small group of four men standing on the deck of the land ship.
“Miri,” Rion said. “That last guard was able to resist your Vis. I had not thought it would be possible for someone who was not trained to defend their mind.”
“Some men have a natural strong will even though they do not have the gift of Vis,” Miri said. “The gods bestow their blessings unevenly, and that is why you must have a weapon handy in case your Vis does not fulfill what you desire.”
As they got closer, the men on the sand sail silently gestured at them to get onboard. Miri read their thoughts to discern their true intentions, and was somewhat satisfied they were indeed Vorconis’s men. She walked across the adjoining metal plank and into the ship, then turned and waited as the boy followed her onto the deck.
A man with a goatee and shaved head walked up to her. He reeked of leather and sweat, and his teeth were crooked. “I am Chrac, captain of the Istas. An eventide greetings to you.” He snapped his fingers, and the crew withdrew the metal plank from the rock wall and began to unfurl the leather sail.
“Pleasant eventides. I am Miri and this is Rion,” she said, pointing to the boy. “Lord Vorconis said you know of a place that can conceal us.”
Rion bowed. “Greetings and salutation, Captain Chrac, we are honored to be on your land ship.”
The captain smiled at both of them. “There are many islets of stone in this sea of dust. I shall take you both to the Northwestern Reaches, where the mists are heavy and the way would be too dangerous for your enemies to follow.”
Miri made a slight bow. “I thank you.”
The land ship began to lurch forward as the leather sail caught hold of the wind. The crew expertly turned the bow of the vehicle until it faced the level sands and the speed began to pick up. Rion watched in fascination for he could never tire of being on the deck of these wondrous machines.
Chrac pointed at a shallow stairwell leading down to the hold. “There are furs and blankets with which to rest. I have also a table of food and water which you may partake from.”
“I thank you again,” Miri said as she led the boy down below the deck.
The ship’s hold was not as large as the one they had first traveled in, for this particular sand sail was less than half the size of their Lethean one. The bedding seemed to have been heavily used by the members of the crew and had a peculiar, manly smell to the leather and fur coverings. A low table made of leather and bone contained bowls of cured meat and dried algae balls. Rion reached for the food and was about to pop a morsel into his mouth before Miri stopped him with a gentle hold of his wrist.
The boy turned to look at her. “What is it, Miri?”
Miri shook her head. “I read their minds as we boarded, they are not to be wholly trusted.” She reached over to her side and withdrew the small sack she had slung over her shoulder. “I have brought some food and a waterskin along with us. It is better you eat and drink from these instead.”
With the tall spire of the mountain rapidly receding behind them, Captain Chrac silently gestured at his small crew to change direction towards a more southerly route. He had been approached days before by one of Chief Wulfgen’s men and he had decided to change sides, for he was promised command of a much larger sand sail once he delivered any of the Lethean escapees to the Zaash tribal holdings where they would be kept captive. Chrac knew Wulfgen had the advantage in numbers, and he was fateful to the word of the living god.
Thinking his guests were already unconscious after digesting the sleeping tonic he had placed in his offering of food and drinks in the hold, Chrac ordered a crewmate to man the ship’s wheel as he opened the hatch and tiptoed silently down the metal steps. With his right hand clutching a small bone club, Chrac carefully closed the trapdoor above and peered into the small cabin. If either of them were still awake, he would not
hesitate to use the weapon.
Both the woman and the boy were lying on the fur bedding, their eyes closed. Chrac displayed a gap-toothed smile as he placed the bone club in a nearby shelf while slowly making his way to where Miri was. The red haired woman had a beauty that was rare in these lands, and Chrac figured he would have his way with her before they reached their destination. Just as he was about to place his hands on her back, he suddenly froze.
Chrac frowned as he tried to move his limbs but he soon realized he was unable to even open his mouth, much less lift up his feet. It seemed an invisible force was holding him in place. His eyes opened wide in astonishment as Miri and the boy suddenly sat up and stared directly at him. Chrac wanted to cry out in alarm, but he felt completely powerless as his body adamantly refused to do each and every command which emanated from his mind.
Miri couldn’t help but be surprised herself just how the boy was able to hold this fully grown man in place via his mindforce alone. She had fought against Magi before, but their use of Vis was crude and usually done with brute force- none of them had the subtle skills Rion was now using against the captain of the Istas. It seemed the boy was inventing a whole new discipline on how to manipulate the mindforce.
Rion stood up as he held his right hand out in front of him. “You may now use your mindsense on him, Miri.”
Miri got up while extending her mental tendrils. “Where did you learn how to harness your Vis like this, Rion?”
The boy shrugged nonchalantly. “I was reading some telling stones in the Great Library of Lethe and it told about a Magus who had the talent to do these kinds of things. Since I had already been taught to use the mindforce in battle, I felt it was better to learn other uses and to see if it was possible.”
Miri nodded. She could have stunned the land ship captain with her mindsense as well, but it would have taken her much longer to alter his thoughts while he was unconscious. Rion’s way seemed much better; the two of them working hand in hand. “Hold him in place for a few more moments, and I can begin the thought switch.”
The Maker of Entropy Page 13
