The Emperor's Shadow War (Tales of Alus Book 2)

by Donald Wigboldy

  "Darius," the voice of Matalchus called from where he sat upon his horse, "why don't you give them your wizard's mark?"

  Darius looked back at him questioningly.

  The older man sighed. "All wizards are given a sign that they are wizards and not just in the form of robes. Your magic and your name become one and in your mind you can see yourself as a single emblem. You know it as well as I know mine. If you lay your mark on them, it not only signifies their loyalty to you, but your tie to them. In this world, few men turn such people away when shown the sign. It would be a gift that you would share for a lifetime."

  Darius could not turn back to the couple behind him. The idea had put in him in a state of shock. He had read of the sign in the books that he had been given back at Aerwold, but he had never heard of the mark being given to anyone. Such a lifelong gift seemed... so final, the wizard suddenly decided. With a deep breath, the wizard turned back to Steis who appeared equally uneasy about such a personal gift, though Darius guessed that it was for different reasons than he.

  "My lord," Steis began.

  Darius held his hand up to halt the words. "Say no more, Steis. It has been decided. I gave you my blessing, did I not? This token I give to you, my faithful friends, and if it can lend itself to help you rebuild your lives then I think that it is fitting."

  He stepped forward to stand before the man. Reaching deep inside of himself, Darius called forth the soul of his magic. Laying a hand upon the man's head, the wizard let his essence touch the man. He opened his eyes again to see a last fading glow disappear from the man's forehead. He then stepped to Celaria who started to try and dismount again.

  "Lean down, Celaria," he insisted. The woman did as he asked and bent from the saddle so that Darius was able to touch her head in the same manner. The glow of a tree encircled by an ellipse blazed briefly on her skin and faded to nothing once again.

  Steis and Celaria looked intently at each other and neither could see the mark. The man looked back at Darius confused, but the wizard smiled and answered the unasked question on the man's lips, "You have only to speak my name, Wizard Darius Eremia, and it will appear. If you are ever in trouble or otherwise in need, say it and the mark will appear. If the time ever comes that you need me, know that I will come, but use it wisely."

  Steis fell to the ground and bowed from his knees. "My lord!" he cried. Celaria seemed ready to fall from her horse equally stunned.

  Darius pulled Steis from the ground gently. The man looked frightened and utterly despondent. To him, it was too great a reward for a man who owed Darius much. "Steis, Celaria, this bonds us as family. Do not think me to be giving you too much as I plainly read in your faces? A wizard's life is often lonely as he spends it so often in studies. To have an extended family, brings me as much joy as any parent when he sees his child. Go now, and have many children and long lives and remember to honor your end of your oath," he added as a last attempt to ease the couple away. Darius meant the words, but he didn't want the looks of gratitude that were so deeply etched in their faces. Hoping for an easier break than this, Darius realized now that he would truly miss these people, though their time together had been brief.

  Turning away and pulling himself back into his saddle, with one last wave to the couple, the wizard led the others away. At the top of the hill hundreds of feet away, Darius turned back to see the Steis remounted and leaning across to kiss his future wife. He smiled and never looked back.

  As they followed the road at a steady clip to make the city of Darvus by nightfall, he turned to Matalchus and asked quietly, "Why did you suggest the mark?"

  The older man shrugged, "They needed something of you to take with them, Darius. Whether you choose to believe it or not, these people have tied themselves to you. They will always be concerned that they have not given enough to you in return. This way, Steis and Celaria can feel as if they honor you by living their lives and maybe you will honor what you promised them as well, boy."

  He grunted in annoyance, "You called me a boy again. When was the last time you called me that, old man. Even now after being made wizard, you stay to teach me more. I don't think the books covered the things that you teach now, old friend."

  Matalchus made a face of false pain. "And now you call me old. You wound me, Great Wizard Darius," the elder wizard laughed quite happily despite his feigned wounding.

  Laughing along with the man, Darius replied, "It's too late to butter me up now, sir."

  The band moved along quickly and, though two had left them, the group remained in high spirits. Darius realized that he felt quite wonderful and realized the reason for it was just ahead of them. As they crossed one last hill, the great walls of Darvus lay before them taking up much of the nearby horizon. The end of his mission stood in front of him and he could hardly wait to see how this adventure would turn out.

  Chapter 34- Dante

  Dante stood ready at the edge of the scar's entry and watched the enemy troops approaching in the late afternoon light. Resting his hand on the pommel of Dark's Bane, his features twisted into a look of determination. He would not fail in the protection of his soldiers or that of the ring. He turned as the first wolves and other dark things that were fleet of foot or hoof began their approach to the lip of the scar and then looked to the soldiers coming up from the great scar of a cavern.

  Valenia came closer holding out a strange mail shirt. "Drakus, said to give this to you. The dragon `didn't want to see you slain too soon', as he put it."

  Dante slipped the shirt of tightly coiled metal rings over his head and arms quickly with Valenia's help. Afterwards, he kissed her lips lightly. "Is everyone ready?"

  She nodded and her look intensified on him. "What are you thinking, Dante? I don't like this look that I see on your face. You aren't planning on doing something foolish, are you?"

  "Like roping a dragon to save you, my love?" he smiled, but it was a small smile. Tension prevented him from much more than that.

  "If not something worse," was her sober reply while she kept her eyes on him still. "Don't lose your head in a mad rush at them. Let them come to us where we can all help each other," Valenia ordered sensing his thoughts.

  Shaking his head dismissing the warning, the immortal man stated, "I have the best chance to break them. If I don't try, I am afraid that they will be able to run over any defenses we place before them. By attacking them hard, I think that I can stall their attack."

  "Why because you've survived minor wounds and fought a few battles? Don't be a fool, Dante! I would assume that we can still be killed despite the label of immortal that I've heard used in whispers."

  "But Gannon said...," he began futily.

  Valenia interrupted him angrily, "What if one of them beheads you or cuts you in half? Do you really believe that you will survive? How are you going to grow a new head or would your head grow a new body?"

  "Perhaps both," Dante grinned trying to relieve the tension, "then there would be two of me to love."

  Furious at him, Valenia slapped him hard across the cheek, "Don't laugh at me! I don't want to lose you!"

  Seeing tears in the warrior's eyes, Dante hugged her to his chest. He kissed her forehead as he stroked back her hair from the silvery blue eyes. They held each other so tightly that the sound of the metal of her new armor plate rubbing against his mail could be heard even as the first howls of the wolves were making themselves known. Quietly he whispered, "I don't want you to die either. That is why I risk my life, my love. These people are my responsibility as much as you are and I won't have anyone die when the gods have blessed me with these gifts." Releasing Valenia, the soldier drew his sword of light. Pulling the spear from its resting place across his back, Dante turned and began walking towards the first of the dark horde.

  "But I am the same as you! I will come with you if you won't listen to reason," she said determinedly and started to follow.

  Dante turned with sword pointed towards her chest. "If you would have me l
ive through this, then stay with the others. If I am worrying about you, I'll be lost, but if you fight behind me here my heart will rest easy that they must first pass me. Do this and I promise you that I'll not fail you. Promise me."

  Tears came to her eyes unbidden and Valenia wiped angrily at them. Sighing deeply, she answered, "I promise this time, but don't do this to me again."

  Dante stalked slowly towards the first charging beasts. They were much like wolves and, despite the weapons he held, the first charged him without any caution or hesitation. Dark's Bane arced forward catching the first one and then another in their flight for his throat. The creatures were split in half and fell in dual sprays of blood and flesh. A much larger beast, that appeared to be a magically altered and endowed troll, was right behind them forcing Dante to quickly prepare himself. It charged in to try and take advantage of the opening the wolves should have made.

  The Spear of Aleile left Dante's hand and drove clean through its chest. Smoke rose from the hole as if a brand had scored the body, he noticed with some surprise. The troll fell at his feet even as the spear dug into the ground just behind it. With no time to examine the magically caused wound, the lieutenant leaped over the creature and brought his other sword from its scabbard.

  More creatures began to leap for him as if unaware of their fellows' deaths. The two swords flashed through the air swiftly splitting wolves and other, lanky, dark beasts equally as Dante stood just before the spear. He could see several of the creatures ignoring him and darting past him for those still left back at the scar. The soldier was forced to let them go as he kept his eyes alert and darting to those nearest his reach, the man slashed and thrust as beast after beast threw themselves eagerly towards him seeking to weigh him down by numbers alone. Unfortunately, he knew these terrors were not the true threat even as the bodies began to pile up around him. Dante had seen larger, armored beasts still coming down the opposite slope. They would be the greater struggle with their weapons and skill.

  Before he had to face those armored terrors, he faced a new problem. As he fought the lesser beasts, Drakus' words rang true when his original sword caught on a gnarled creature's skull and snapped. Dante had never heard such an odd sound from metal and was nearly bowled over in his surprise, but Dark's Bane was still in his other hand and split the thick boned monster in half as it lunged for his legs. He took a step back and pulled the spear free from its resting place.

  The spear was blessed with a blade at each end though the lower one also had a cover to make it blunt like a normal spear. Dante only found that out by chance as a dark thing leapt for him and caught the cover with its head. The cap slid free of the spear and the soldier, spying the second blade, drove it down into the creature's back as thanks for its discovery.

  The battle seemed to be taking much longer than it was as Dante fought off more and more of the darklings. The dark forces continued to press their numbers and the soldier was forced to slowly retreat up the hill on the lip of the scar. After several minutes, however, the man suddenly found himself standing in a wide circle of receding beasts. The warrior stood ready on the slope below the cave knowing that such behavior could only mean a stronger threat.

  He was right.

  The creatures began to slide behind him to head upslope to where the others were engaged in a battle already raging full scale by the sound of the cries and clangs of metal. But as the beasts scattered, a half dozen armored trolls backed by line after line of their brethren, marched menacingly towards him. All bore swords or maces casually in a way that only true veteran soldiers could. They were more than just rabid animals hunting in a pack.

  A trace of fear made itself known only to be quickly quenched by renewed fury fueled by the knowledge that his people needed him. With a snarl truly bestial in its rage, Dante charged forward and drove the Spear of Aleile through the air and on through the bodies of the middle line of trolls. The spear continued through the first, hairy soldier and slew every one of its kindred marching directly behind it. The trolls paused only a moment at the violence visited upon their ranks, and that moment proved too long as Dante swung Dark's Bane into the breach the spear created.

  The trolls tried to regroup on the man surging into their midst, but his fury spun through their ranks and those that followed like a scythe through grass. So lost in his rage was he that he nearly missed the whistling of a projectile thrown straight for him. Luckily, a troll only mere feet from his side cried out as the Spear of Aleile drove through its chest on its path for Dante's heart. The man spun and ducked to avoid the point of his own gifted weapon as best he could. Pain and the smell of smoked meat rushed to his brain from the gash in his left arm.

  Hardly slowed even then, as Dark's Bane had been in his more skilled right hand, Dante rolled back to his knees to easily slice the legs from a troll before him and rose back to his feet. Anger and rage dulled the pain in his arm and lent themselves to his renewed attacks, but he was wounded now. The loss of blood was minimal, but soon it joined more as blades began to find chinks in his defenses. A tear in his leather pants revealed another wound to the flesh of his thigh with a misty spray of blood. Another cut appeared on his left leg as Dark's Bane cleaved that creature's skull too slowly.

  His right arm picked up a cut. Another blade tore his right leg as well. The mail held against all breaches, but what was not covered soon became covered in blood that was his own as much as the dark ones this time. Dante's vision was blurred from a cut on his forehead. His jaw felt painful from a blow to it that had sent him tumbling. A wolf's bite tore through his left pant's leg before it too lay dead at his feet.

  His vision started to darken from the strain of prolonged battle and his many injuries. Dante tried to back up the slope to the minimal protection of the scar's entrance and found that he had lost his way to it. The creatures around him forced his attention back to them too much to find it back as the man struggled for survival. Fear began to enter his head and his soul. Panic threatened to take him over and then a thunderous roar shook the mountain.

  The beasts drew back terrified. Sudden flame blew down from the scar to Dante's right first and then his left. Drakus rose over his head in a rush of black and gold. The dragon was angry indeed. The great beast soared directly over his head towards the far mountain face.

  Dante took the moment's peace to glance to the robed figure still astride its mount just below the crest of the far slope. He stepped back and watched Drakus' fiery breath lance out engulfing the man and hundreds of feet of mountain as well. Smoke made it impossible to see the remains of the robed one, but apparently Drakus felt that the first burst was not enough. A second and third fiery gust swept the mountainside.

  Dante took his eyes off the dragon and his quest long enough to dispatch a pair of orcs suddenly emboldened to try their luck against the man. He split them in twain and stepped back again. He nearly tripped and angrily looked down to find the Spear of Aleile under his feet. Glad of its presence, Dante picked the weapon up and looked to the battle still raging on the far mountain, and battle it turned out to be as a countering blinding light lanced out for the dragon. The blast hit Drakus a glancing blow along the chest and the dragon spun away with a roar. The burst had hurt only enough to anger the giant creature.

  The wind helped him to finally see the figure still astride his mount. Dante thought that he could make out a circle of land around the horse and rider that still remained untouched by Drakus' fury. New fear made itself known as he realized that a sorcerer fought for the enemy because only magic could have withstood the flames of a dragon like Drakus. None of them would be safe if the robed one defeated the dragon, he knew.

  Dante looked at the spear lying in his hand. He didn't know why he tried to throw the weapon so great a distance then, except that maybe the warrior believed the weapon would do so. With all his remaining strength, the man threw the spear towards the robed figure. Drakus had renewed the conflict as well with his great blasts of flame. They were s
tartlingly bright, but, as the spear rushed to meet its target, Dante could have sworn that he spied a new light tearing through the air from above his head. The sorcerer made rapid gestures that Dante could just see beneath the waves of heat and then an explosion rocked the mountains all around them.

  Dante watched the Spear of Aleile disappeared into the maelstrom of thunder and light and flame.

  Dante began to run towards the far off crest though sanity tried to remind him that it would take him too long to reach the sorcerer to be of assistance. He paused as half a dozen warriors ran for him serving to block his path. They appeared frightened, but desperate. A brief battle ensued where Dante received two new wounds and the creatures lost their lives to the glowing sword. Looking to the far off mountainside afterwards, the soldier smiled.

  Laying in a dark pile, the robed one and his horse had fallen over in a smoking ruin of blackened earth. The spear stuck upwards into the air from the leg of the rider nailed to the side of the horse. Dante guessed that the weapon was driven deep enough to stick straight through to the far leg of the sorcerer. The robed one would hardly care anymore however, since even from this distance, Dante could tell that the figure was broken and dead where he lay.

  Not noticing the first calls of his name as he stood taking in the sight numbly, a warmth of satisfaction arose from somewhere deep inside him at the defeat of such an evil enemy. He hated feeling good about another's death, but for some reason this time it was so.

  "Dante!" Valenia cried from nearly behind him.

  He turned startled, but did not raise the sword to his love's cry. "Valenia?" the man questioned through the blood covering one side of his face. He was half blind with the fatigue and the cuts flowing into his eyes.

  The woman crashed into him knocking him back a few steps. Her arms were wrapped around him tightly and despite his happiness to see her, the cuts and bruises caused him to hiss in pain.