The Slave War

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The Slave War Page 11

by James E. Wisher


  Slowly but steadily, the dragon’s jaws were forced open. The moment he had room enough, Leonidas shot out from between the razor-sharp teeth.

  He hung in the air, waiting for the dragon to bank and come back for another run at him. Instead it kept flying northwest. The beast seemed to have forgotten all about him. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. He settled on relieved and soared back toward the others.

  He paused beside the still-flying ship. It was in rough shape. The busted mast had showered the deck with shards of wood. The other two ships had been reduced to little more than kindling. His command ship had survived at least and there was nothing of importance stored on the other two. As for Ariel and the bards, there was no sign of them. They probably fled at the first opportunity.

  This was a debacle and there was no way to spin it otherwise. He left the ship where it was and flew back to Jax. The wizard had found a hood to protect his pale skin from the sun, but he was still lying on the ground. Beyond Jax, the surviving soldiers and Domina were sorting themselves out. No one looked like they’d come out of this unharmed.

  He landed and knelt beside Jax. “How are you?”

  “I have at least six broken ribs, it hurts to breathe, and I’m seeing double. The dragon?”

  “Gone. The beast spat me out and flew away to the north. At least it left us one ship. Will you be up to flying it if I carry you up there?”

  “I’m not up to standing, much less working magic.”

  Leonidas looked towards Domina, but she had fallen on her backside and was staring up at the sky. She probably had a concussion or worse.

  “Those two bards are still locked up in the hold. Can you drain their life-force to heal yourself?”

  “You’ll have to help me.”

  Leonidas nodded and conjured a disk under Jax. Together they flew back to the ship and down into the hold. Below deck was an even bigger mess than above. When the dragon struck the mast, everything crashed to the floor. The reek of mingled chemicals coming from Domina’s workshop made Leonidas’s eyes water. They found the bards hanging where they’d left them, still unconscious and breathing.

  “Stand me up next to one of them,” Jax said.

  Leonidas did so, using his ring to brace Jax in position.

  “You’ll need to hold me here by hand. I can’t use my magic with the Black Ring’s aura surrounding me.”

  Leonidas grimaced, but took hold of Jax under his armpits before withdrawing the brace. “How’s that?”

  “It’ll do.”

  Jax hissed as he lifted his hands and placed them on either side of the left-hand bard’s face. Darkness gathered around his fingers and gradually the bard’s face grew hollow and sank in. Leonidas felt the bones in Jax’s body shifting and healing. He shuddered at the sensation.

  When nothing remained of the bard save a skeleton Jax said, “That’s better. I’ll save the other for Domina. I’m still sore but healed enough to function. Thank you, Leonidas.”

  Leonidas gently squeezed his shoulder. “Not at all. Let’s collect our people and get out of here before someone arrives to investigate.”

  They went up on deck together, Jax limping slightly, but seeming nearly back to normal. The wizard took up position at the helm and soon enough the ship was flying back to the site of the dragon’s attack.

  As Leonidas descended, he spotted Shade, Rondo, and thirteen soldiers leaving the tree line and starting down to join the others. That was more survivors than he expected given the power of the dragon’s blast. The only one that really surprised him was Rondo. That man was like a cockroach, you just couldn’t kill him.

  Shade came running up as he landed. “You okay, Boss?”

  “Yes, considering.”

  “If you want to get after them, the bards were riding hard to the northwest.”

  Northwest, the same direction the dragon went. That’s why it stopped attacking. Not because of anything he did, but because its master was leaving.

  “We’re not going to attempt to take her again, not yet. I need a new plan. That said, I don’t want to lose track of them either. Take Rondo and get on their trail. You can buy horses at the village we flew over earlier. Jax will make contact when we’re ready to try again.”

  “Got it, Boss.”

  Rondo stared at nothing in particular with the haunted expression of someone whose life had gotten completely out of control.

  Leonidas knew exactly how he felt.

  Chapter 19

  Yaz couldn’t remember feeling as exhausted as he did today. The group had stopped a quarter mile out from one of the three farms left on his list. A chilly breeze was blowing and it would only get worse after the sun went down. This farm was where Brigid’s father ended up. Once they finished with these last three targets, everyone outside the cities would be free.

  They’d been dodging and hiding from increasing patrols since they rescued Brigid’s mom. It seemed the king was taking their little rebellion more seriously now. The patrols were getting larger too, which made ambushes riskier.

  He found himself wondering how Sandul’s group was doing. Their more aggressive tactics were bound to draw the bulk of the response. Yaz felt a little guilty about basically using them as a distraction so he could free his people, but he had offered to get them across the border and they turned him down. He couldn’t make peoples’ decisions for them.

  “There don’t seem to be any guards,” Silas said.

  “Good. The best thing about these little farms is that they don’t think they need guards since they only have a slave or two. Makes our lives so much easier.”

  “Got that right. Will we go in after dark and sneak him out?”

  “That’s what I figured. I don’t want to risk a confrontation, especially not now that we’re so close to being finished. How’s everyone doing?”

  “They’re tired, but hanging in.” Silas narrowed his eyes. “You’re looking done in yourself.”

  “I’m feeling it too. When we finish with the farms, I’m thinking seriously of taking everyone across the border and resting for a few days before we hit the capital.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. A hot meal and a bed, even an army cot, would suit me very well indeed.”

  When total darkness had settled in, Yaz strung his bow and he, Brigid, and Silas set out for the farm. Since they all needed essentially the same buildings and equipment to function, every place they’d visited had the same basic layout: a house, a barn, and outbuildings with harvested fields lying beyond. The main difference with this place was a split-rail fence that surrounded the buildings. It was rickety and more for decoration than to keep anything in or out. A determined chicken could probably kick it down.

  They made their way around to the rear of the barn by a faint light conjured by Silas. So far so good. They quickly disassembled a section of fence, setting the dry rails to one side. Yaz ran to the end of the barn and listened hard. Still no sign of trouble.

  There was no back door and unlike the fence, the barn was well constructed from heavy timbers. There would be no cutting their way through the wall. It was the front door or nothing.

  Using the simple hand gestures they’d made up over the course of their raiding, Yaz sent Silas down the far side while he and Brigid continued down the near. Since Silas took the light, they trailed their fingers along the wall as they jogged silently along.

  At the front of the barn Yaz paused again and studied the darkness. Nothing moved or made a sound. He turned and spotted Silas. The wizard gave him a thumbs up.

  Yaz nodded and they met at the closed doors. They were shut tight, but not chained. Yaz frowned at that. Even the farms that kept their slaves chained up inside tended to lock the barn as well.

  Silas raised an eyebrow when Yaz hesitated. It was probably nothing.

  He reached up and grabbed one side of the double doors while Silas grabbed the other. They pulled and the most horrendous screech filled the silent night. As soon as t
here was room enough for a single man to pass through, they stopped and looked around. Still nothing. Unless the owner was deaf, he had to have heard that. Maybe word of the raids had reached them and they were content to let the slaves go rather than risk their lives.

  Whatever was going on, it wasn’t like they could turn back now. The three of them slipped into the barn and Silas turned up the brightness of his light a fraction. One side of the barn held stalls for a trio of cows and the other a pair of chained-up slaves.

  Brigid ran over to one of the men. “Dad. Are you okay?”

  “You shouldn’t have come,” he said.

  “What? Why?”

  The answer came a moment later when a loud voice from outside said, “Throw down your weapons and come out of the barn. Resist and we will kill you.”

  “Because it’s a trap,” Brigid’s father said.

  Yaz eased his way over to the door, careful not to give any archers a clear shot at him. Outside, illuminated by at least twenty torches, was a gathering of thirty soldiers, twenty with spears and shields and the rest with crossbows. The officer in charge stood a little in front of his men, arms crossed and clearly expecting a response.

  The only result of surrender Yaz could imagine was hanging and possibly torture. If he was going to die, it would be on his feet fighting.

  He nocked an arrow, stepped into the doorway, and loosed. It was a good shot, but five feet from the officer’s chest some force smashed the arrow aside.

  “Silas, can you tell if they have a wizard?” Yaz asked.

  Silas closed his eyes and his brow furrowed. “No, I don’t sense one. Charms against nonmagical arrows are fairly simple to construct. Most likely their commander has one. Give me one of your arrows.”

  Yaz obliged and Silas made several passes over it. Darkness gathered around the arrowhead until the steel turned as black as night.

  “There, I think you’ll have better luck with your next shot, assuming he’s dumb enough to stand there and let you shoot again.”

  Yaz peeked out. The officer hadn’t moved. No doubt he was hoping to intimidate them into surrender. Yaz fitted the enchanted arrow to his bow. We’ll see how confident he and his men are after this.

  “Can you get everyone free of their chains, please?” Yaz asked.

  “No problem.”

  While Silas got to work, Yaz took a breath to steady himself. The dark magic oozing out of the arrowhead gave him the willies. When his hands had stopped shaking, Yaz stepped into the opening and fired a second time.

  He spun immediately back behind the door just as crossbow bolts hammered into the wood. After the volley he looked out again. The officer lay belly up and still, Yaz’s arrow protruding from his throat. Not a bad shot considering how he rushed. One thing was certain, no more offers of surrender would be forthcoming.

  The crossbowmen were busy cranking their weapons for another shot when Silas said, “I’m done.”

  “Good. Are they okay to move?” Yaz asked.

  “We’re fine.” Brigid’s father got to his feet. “But where do you expect us to go with all those soldiers outside?”

  Yaz grinned. “We’ve still got a few tricks left to play. See, one of the reasons we’ve done our best to avoid fights is so that our wizard would be well rested if we ever needed him. And do we ever need you now, Silas.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” Brigid said. “Yaz and Silas will get us out of this.”

  Her father looked from Brigid to Yaz and back again, his eyes narrow. “Is this boy the reason you didn’t want to marry Owen?”

  “This is hardly the time—”

  “Answer me!”

  “No, I hadn’t even met Yaz when I told you I didn’t want to marry Owen. He’s fine by the way, we freed him and one of his sons about ten days ago. They’ve already crossed over into Rend.”

  “I hate to interrupt your family drama.” Silas had joined Yaz beside the door. “But the spearmen are preparing to advance. How do you want me to handle this, paralyze them?”

  “No,” Yaz said. “We can’t have them following us to the next farm.”

  “Yaz!” Brigid said.

  He shook his head. “Our next target is only five miles down the road. If they catch up to us and we’re trapped between them and another patrol it could get everyone killed. We can’t risk it. You know we can’t.”

  “Death Field it is.” Silas pulled the dragon talisman out of his shirt and began to rub the black stone.

  Since he’d gotten the amulet back at the quarry, Yaz had hardly seen him use a lightning spell. Not that he cared how the wizard did what he did as long as the soldiers ended up dealt with. Still, as a lightning path wizard, Silas should have shown a preference for that type of magic. It suggested an unhealthy fascination with the dark arts.

  Silas’s conjured light dimmed as the necromantic energy grew. A chill ran down Yaz’s spine and he took an unconscious step back from his friend.

  The moment he realized what he’d done, Yaz moved back to his former position. Silas was doing this because Yaz asked him to. Damned if he was going to distance himself from his decision and make Silas shoulder all the burden.

  The silence outside took on an uncomfortable feeling. Silas had fallen silent as well, but dark energy still oozed out of the amulet.

  Yaz shifted so he could see out. All the soldiers lay on the ground, the nearest about fifteen feet from the barn door. Black mist covered the earth between the barn and house. It writhed, rising and falling almost like someone’s breath. No sign of movement or life remained.

  He placed a hand on Silas’s shoulder. “It’s over. You can end your spell.”

  Silas shuddered and cupped his hand over the amulet. The black mist slowly vanished, as if reluctant to return to wherever it came from.

  “Sorry,” Silas said. “I got lost in the spell for a moment. I’m okay now.”

  Yaz left his hand where it was, offering silent support, before saying, “Let’s get out of here before any of their friends show up.”

  He led the group out of the barn, picking his way through the bodies. It was strange, so many dead without a mark on them.

  “Gods’ mercy,” Brigid’s father said. “What sort of people have you fallen in with? Only a monster could do something like this.”

  “Silas and Yaz are not monsters,” Brigid said. “They’re the reason you, Mother, and everyone else is free. They’re the reason I’m still alive. Maybe you prefer being chained to a post, but I like being free. It’s why I ran away from home in the first place.”

  “It’s not right, girl,” he said. “Taking lives like that.”

  “Ugh!” Brigid threw her hand up. “Have it your way. You’ve never cared what I thought about anything anyway.”

  She stomped off back toward where the rest of the villagers waited. Her father took off after her looking like he wanted to argue some more.

  “Um…” The second slave they rescued, a pale, skinny man in a torn, filthy tunic raised a hesitant hand. “Should I leave or something? You seem to be having issues.”

  Yaz grinned. “Don’t mind them. You know how family reunions can be. You’re welcome to travel with us or take your chances on your own. Your choice.”

  “I guess I’ll come with you.”

  Yaz shook his hand. “Welcome aboard. Don’t worry, most days aren’t this exciting.”

  “Yeah,” Silas said. “Sometimes they’re worse. Let me tell you about the time we fought a giant undead dragon.”

  Silas led the slightly nervous former slave after Brigid and her father leaving Yaz to bring up the rear.

  He sighed. Were they monsters? He liked to think not. People were killed in wars all the time. Using swords rather than magic didn’t make them any less dead. Or so he told himself.

  Chapter 20

  It was late in the afternoon when the Bardic College came into view. It was cold and the gray sky threatened the first snow of the year. Moz had been riding his newly purchased ho
rse for most of a day and a half. The battle with the shadowalker assassin had left both him and Mariel exhausted. Much as he hated to take the time, he’d been forced to rest. Mariel ended up in worse shape than him but when he offered to stay, she shooed him out the door. He hadn’t argued very hard. In truth Moz was eager to get to the college and see how Ariel and Callie were doing.

  Wisps of smoke rose from the training yard. Moz’s horse shied as they approached the gate. He patted her neck. “What’s wrong, girl?”

  The horse shook her head and stomped, refusing to get another step closer to the college. Moz dismounted and led the horse to a nearby tree where he tied her up. He patted her one last time on the flank and crossed the road to the portcullis.

  He peered through the gaps in the bars and stiffened. A number of bodies, some wearing bardic blue, lay very still in the dirt inside. Others wore the black armor favored by Dark Sage mercenaries. He’d been too late. The sages had already attacked.

  Heart racing, Moz looked frantically around for a way inside. Unfortunately, the college was fortress and no easy way presented itself. With no other options, he climbed up the portcullis. At the top, with much grunting and swearing, he found handholds enough to climb up to the top and lever himself over the battlement. Once over the wall it was a quick run to the nearest stairs down to the yard.

  A cursory look around made it clear that whatever happened, it had happened at least a few days ago. He walked to the nearest armored body and kicked it over on its back. There was nothing remarkable about the man and there were no signs of wounds. He’d probably been killed by one of the bards’ abilities.

  Working his way through the carnage, Moz checked each bard, every time fearing that he would find Callie staring up at him, and each time being relieved when it was someone he didn’t recognize. When he finished his inspection, a great weight lifted from his chest.

 

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