A Clash of Magics

by Guy Antibes

  He and Lissa teleported back to Doford at Berry Port. The man had already begun to coordinate his part of the invasion while the strategy was finalized and communicated with the other two groups.

  “Can you power me up?” Trevor asked Custik.

  It didn’t take long for the magician to declare Trevor ready to go. He took Lissa first and then returned without a problem.

  “That works well, but it is rather tedious,” Custik said, “but I can’t think of an alternative.

  Trevor transferred Win next, and within an hour, Trevor’s friends were choosing horses at Henkari’s garrison, even though Trevor was a bit queasy from all the transfers.

  Trevor took Custik and Glynna with him to Henkari’s conference room to coordinate with General Brightwork, Henkari, and Captain Azu Gindu, who was given the plainsmen’s command. The timing was solidified, following what Trevor had discussed with the eastern armies.

  Trevor loaded up Snowflake with supplies and procured additional armor for himself and his friends, should they need it. The party joined the Brachian army as it headed west before turning south.

  Trevor traveled with Potur Lott, who led one of the four Brachian columns that would snake their way through the mountains, joining up at a farming village not far from the western side of Khartoo. They approached the border with Maskum, where Trevor, Potur, and Lissa had once left the central artery south. Still, this time they were going straight down the road they had avoided, and hopefully, directly through the Maskumite guards manning the first checkpoint.

  ~

  Once the armies began to advance, Trevor’s ability to move quickly from commander to commander was compromised by the changing positions, so Trevor consulted with Samar Doford in Berry Port and kept Prime Minister Crater, the head seer, and King Turgul informed.

  Since the front was so broad, the Maskumites were caught with their forces in the wrong places, and allied armies moved without much resistance. Detecting the Maskumite troops became more critical as the columns plunged into Maskum.

  Trevor finally decided so much magical traveling made little sense. In a few days, he would be able to ride between the columns heading toward Khartoo.

  “Potur Lott’s force will head farther west to cut off the enclave’s retreat,” Trevor said to General Brightwork. “I’ll go with him and join with those breaching the western side of the enclave where there is no city, only a deep empty ditch mimicking a moat. It is time to send riders between the different columns to keep everyone coordinated and transfer forces to where they need to be.”

  Brightwork nodded his head. The general’s final task was to enter Khartoo at its northwestern end. Potur Lott and Trevor would come in from the west, and the others would drive along the northern outskirts of the city, and then they would join forces and converge on the enclave. All of the leaders knew they would be fighting Maskumites on all sides as a worst case, but Potur Lott and others were convinced most Maskumites didn’t want a war in the first place.

  Trevor would have liked to visit Samar Doford one more time, but the man should have been on a ship heading to join the Sirlandian fleet assembling a few miles off the bay at Khartoo. Everyone was on their own at this point, and there was little Trevor could do but continue traveling and fighting his way south to Maskum’s capital.

  After a week of travel from Henkari’s garrison, the army paused to rest the soldiers and to allow the supplies to catch up to the fighting forces. Trevor and Lissa teleported to Bassington after General Brightwork asked them to make a brief report to King Worto.

  They appeared close to the king’s castle, where Rory Pierce, who had become the real Desolation Boxster, grew up.

  “I am here to see King Worto on behalf of General Brightwork.”

  The guards laughed. “The general is deep into Jarkan territory. You can’t have a message from him.”

  “What are your names? I’ll be sure to let King Worto know that two of his palace guards kept a confidential letter from the King’s general from being delivered,” Lissa asked.

  The guards looked at each other and then at Trevor. “And who are you?”

  “Duke Trevor of Listenwell,” Trevor said. “What do I need to be given an audience with the king?”

  “We will have to go through our leaders,” one of the guards said. “It will take a while.”

  “Not good enough,” Trevor said. He took Lissa’s hand, and they disappeared in front of the guards.

  Lissa grinned. “I missed seeing their faces when one second you were there and another you weren’t.”

  Trevor nodded, not as amused as Lissa. “I want to get this over. I’m still not very comfortable consulting with the man who sent out assassins to kill Boxster.” He led Lissa through the castle, but soon they were turned around, not having an escort.

  “Teleporting was a wonderful idea,” Lissa said.

  Trevor smiled. “It was, wasn’t it? I’m sure someone will point us in the right direction.”

  They walked through the corridors, heading toward the front of the castle, but the passages weren’t straight, and Trevor knew they were turned around again.

  “Why don’t we follow that person?” Trevor said, pointing to a man crossing their corridor.

  “That man?” Lissa asked.

  Trevor sighed. The person ahead was sneaking as if he was up to something. “Put your charm where it won’t work, and I’ll point when I see the magician, and you shake your head if you can’t see him.”

  They turned the corner, and Trevor pointed. Lissa gave him a questioning look before she shook her head. Trevor pulled his sword and ran toward the magician. “Stop!” Trevor said.

  The magician turned around, shock on his face as he raised his hands. Trevor closed and punched him, knocking him to the ground, and continued to pummel his face until the man fainted. That was the only way to be safe from a magician.

  Guards were converging on them. “You aren’t to be causing so much commotion,” one of the guards said.

  “Can you see him?” Trevor said to the guard, and then he pointed to the man on the ground.

  “All I see is you and the lady,” the guard said. His compatriots nodded their heads.

  An officer walked up. “What is the commotion? Why is this man on the ground?”

  “What man, sir?” one of the guards asked.

  “You have a charm?” Trevor asked the officer.

  “I do.”

  “And your guards don’t. That is why they can’t see this Maskumite magician,” Trevor said.

  “He isn’t a Maskumite magician. I’ve seen him in and out all the time. Even King Worto has met him.”

  “Then search him,” Trevor said.

  “And who are you to be ordering me to do anything?”

  “Duke Trevor Arcwin of Listenwell and the Dryden messenger. I am leading the forces of which General Brightwork is a part.”

  “Why aren’t you in Jarkan?”

  “Maskum,” Trevor said, correcting the officer. “I’m sure you heard I can teleport. I just came from there bearing a message from the general to King Worto.”

  Trevor waved the letter in front of the officer’s eyes. “Do you recognize his handwriting?”

  “I know someone who does,” the officer said. He looked at his men and handed his charm to one of the men. “Bind him well. He is a magician working for the other side. Take him to a cell where we will question him later.”

  The officer looked at the spot where the magician lay. “He is using an invisibility spell. King Worto will want to know that. I’ll take you to him.”

  Trevor nodded. He felt like he should have been a hundred miles away from King Worto, but he couldn’t shirk his duty to his adopted country. They reached the throne room. Trevor still wouldn’t be able to trace their path through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle. Boxster would have known exactly where to go, having grown up in the place.

  They stepped into the king’s study. Worto was speaking to tw
o men seated in front of him.

  “Arcwin. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again until Maskum was destroyed.”

  “Not Maskum, the magician enclave in Khartoo. It seems we found another magician practicing invisibility,” Trevor said, “Your Majesty,” he added belatedly.

  “We captured him, King Worto,” the officer said with a salute. “He can be interrogated.”

  Worto looked up at the officer. “You know who to summon. Don’t kill him. We want to know where he learned the spell and who he is working for in Brachia or wherever else. You can go.” With a look, Worto also dismissed the two men seated in front of Worto’s desk. The king put out a hand. “Sit. What am I supposed to know?” Worto said.

  Trevor pulled out the letter to the king. “General Brightwork wrote this and asked me to deliver it. We were at a pause in our push south, so I thought I might give you an update since Lissa and I are traveling with the general’s army.”

  Worto grunted and ripped open the envelope, pulling out the letter inside. After reading, he laid the message on his desk. “It appears the general would like confirmation that he is to follow your command.”

  “I didn’t ask for his command. The different forces are split so they can use their own chain of command,” Trevor said. “We all decided on the objective and how to get there.”

  Worto scribbled something on the back of Brightwork’s letter and took out a seal. He stamped it on a blue ink pad and pressed it into the backside. “Brightwork reports directly to you. You passed his test by not opening the envelope before you gave it to me. Is that all you want?”

  Trevor shook his head and asked Lissa to pull out a map of Maskum. “I quickly marked this up before I came. We are meeting resistance all along the way, but all the units are moving as planned. We will attack the western part of Khartoo when we are in position.”

  King Worto looked on with interest as Trevor pointed out the current progress and the forces’ expected arrival into position.

  “You came up with this plan?” Worto asked.

  Trevor nodded. “I came up with the concept, and the army commanders took care of the details. I’ll be personally leading a division of your forces attacking the western side of the enclave. It is the roughest terrain, but we will keep them from escaping. We won’t be giving the magicians any quarter,” Trevor said. “We won’t get all the magicians, but we should put an end to their meddling in the world’s affairs before we leave Khartoo.”

  “And you think all the magicians are in this enclave?”

  Trevor nodded his head. “An ambitious magician wouldn’t be elsewhere and expect to retain his place unless he has the support of one of the many cabals.” Trevor talked about his experience in the enclave in more detail than he had the first time to King Worto.

  “Finish off Gareeze Plissaki if you haven’t already. He is responsible for the spy institute in the mountains and your friend Boxster’s death.” Worto raised his hand to forestall a comment from Trevor. “I am ultimately responsible for the assassination of Rory Pierce, I know that, but Plissaki was the one who pushed me to take this throne, and I know there was some magic behind that. I know I’m a hard man, but not that hard, now that I’ve been free for some time.

  “I will do my best,” Trevor said, “if I haven’t already.”

  Worto nodded. “Is there anything else before I call my lackeys in? I am working on getting Brachia back to where it should be.”

  “Check in on Keith Garman. He is my regent in Listenwell,” Trevor said, “and make sure there aren’t any more invisible magicians.”

  “Both of those are at the top of my list, and may you have all the luck Dryden is willing to give,” the king said, coming around from his desk and shaking Trevor’s hand and then Lissa’s. Trevor would have never expected a gesture like that from the man he had once considered his arch enemy.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ~

  F ighting was mostly light as the Brachian forces restarted their march. Potur Lott took Trevor’s friends and three hundred soldiers along a lane in an obscure village and then entered a track through a gap in the woods. Their pathway rose farther west into the mountains until they came to a fork in the road.

  “This takes you directly west to Ternus,” Potur said, “and that one will turn south to Khartoo.”

  “And when we get to that point?” Win asked.

  “It is cross-country to our goal,” Potur said, “almost all of it difficult travel. We could follow the main road south and then move west along the moat, but then you’d lose the element of surprise.”

  Trevor assembled the officers and his friends. “From here on, we conserve our supplies. We have no idea how long it will take us to get into position, and we have to make sure we can handle a siege of two weeks, but I don’t think we will be idle that long. Our mission is to keep the magicians bottled up.”

  “And if the other forces can’t break through in two weeks from the first attack?” one of the Brachian officers asked.

  “We can always create a breach of our own. Can’t we, Custik?”

  “The Maskumites aren’t the only powerful magicians, you know,” Custik said with a twinkle in his eye.

  Trevor didn’t worry about his friend, but he didn’t want the Brachian soldiers massacred. Glynna had volunteered to join the Brachian medical people since Trevor expected a tough fight for the headquarters of the Maskumite magicians.

  Two and a half days later, a scout rode toward the column; his horse’s flanks were foam-flecked, and the man had an arrow in the back of his arm.

  “They protect a magician’s manor,” the scout said, wincing in pain.

  The soldier grimaced as they helped him off his horse. Glynna ran up and began attending to the wound as Trevor, Potur, and the Brachian commander stood around the scout.

  “I was close enough to sneak up to a window, and then I was struck. I didn’t even see the archers. The manor must have magicians inside,” the scout said, his face beaded with sweat and smeared with blood.

  Potur pulled out a map and had the scout show where the manor would be on the map before sending the man off to a healer.

  “We will move the force south so that we are positioned to cut off a retreat from the manor and from the enclave,” Trevor said.

  They rushed past the track to the manor, and Potur took troops a bit farther south in case there was another escape route. Trevor, accompanied by Win, Volst, Lissa, and half of the twenty best magician-soldiers moved up the lane leading to the two-story manor. When a white lightning bolt scorched the ground at one of the soldier’s feet, Trevor ordered a retreat, backtracking out of the magician’s range.

  The injured scout, now bandaged, volunteered to circle the manor. Win went with him on foot, and the pair disappeared into the trees. Trevor wanted to go, but he would expose himself later on. It was hard to wait, but the team finally returned. They drew a picture of the manor and the surrounding area. There was a pathway leading directly toward the enclave. Trevor sent the scout ahead to Potur’s group so the exit could be located, and an ambush set up for anyone escaping from the manor.

  Nothing happened for two hours. The sun was dipping toward the west, and Trevor didn’t want to lose the daylight since a fight in the darkness would be to the magicians’ advantage.

  “Come with me,” Trevor said to his band. “We will attack them from the rear.”

  Leaving their horses behind, Win led them past the manor. In a few minutes, Trevor looked at the back of the estate. There were more outbuildings than he had expected.

  “I’ll use my camouflage spell and see how many horses there are in the stable,” Lissa said. She returned in a moment. “Seven horses, no wagons.”

  Trevor turned to Volst. “Find Potur and have him move half the troops to where we were before. We’ll invade with few men, but have his forces converge from the pathway and the lane on the house when they hear fighting inside.”

  “You need more troops,�
�� Volst said as he looked at the manor through the thick trees.

  “And you’ll get them for me. Hurry. I won’t wait for you,” Trevor said. He watched Volst run back toward the lane before planning an attack in his mind. This particular game would be for high stakes.

  Trevor took the invading force and positioned them behind the outbuildings. Once they had been cleared, he went over the final steps to their plan. Trevor would have to lead in case the magicians used wards to defend the manor. The time finally came. He squeezed Lissa’s hand and nodded to the one Brachian officer that had accompanied the soldiers.

  Trevor was about to enter the grounds when a window opened, and two magicians climbed out and waited, one looking one way and the other in the opposite direction. Why would they expose themselves? Trevor asked himself until he turned to Win.

  “Do you see the magicians leaning against the house if you remove your charm?” Trevor asked.

  Win dropped the charm into Trevor’s hand. “What magicians?” Win said with a smile, grabbing the charm back.

  “I need a bow and a few arrows,” Trevor said. “I’m going to give those two idiots the awards they deserve.” He felt that if they were so brazen as to hide in plain sight, that they were legitimate targets. He took the bow and flexed it. “I’ll be heading in after I shoot. Follow me and watch your step.”

  He gave two of the three arrows to Lissa and nocked the first. In a fluid motion, he pulled back the bow and hoped the creaking sound didn’t reach the manor house. He shot the first, grabbed the second arrow from Lissa, and then he shot immediately. He held out his hand for the third, but Lissa patted him on the shoulder.

  “You are too good,” she said with a grimace, looking at the two fallen magicians.

  “All I did was practice when I was a teenager,” Trevor said when he handed back the bow and pulled his Jarkanese sword, stepping out from the back of the stable.

  He walked forward and reached the back door in time to hear someone call out a name and then another. Trevor opened the unlocked door and sighed. Unless this was a trap, the magicians had made a fatal error. He slipped inside and was immediately bathed in fire and silver and white lightning bolts. The streams of magic only made it clear where his opponents were. Trevor moved farther into the house as his force came in behind him.