Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2) (28 page)

The Interfering Spirit

Chapter 48

“A
ren’t you a little young to be an archmage?” Amira asked, riding double behind Talik, who had just finished casting a spell that enhanced their mount’s speed, strengthening its heart, lungs, and sinews.

 
“Aren’t you a little young to be a scryer?”

 
She sighed. “Point taken… but you look young for an elf.”

 
“I am. I’m only in my seventh decade… However, Faeryn rank is garnered by merit, not heredity as it does in Lyai’s Mage Guild.”

 
“Becoming one of the Consecrated requires only the gift –– and a desire to rid the world of us.”

 
He glanced over his shoulder, “That bad? Have you no family?”

 
“Not that would claim me of the other Consecrated.”

 
“How old are you?”

 
“Twenty and six.”

 
“You really are a child.” He felt her stiffen, “But not exactly a child, as humans reckon time.”

 
They rode in silence for a time, then said, “I have one question for you. What’s in the pouch?”

 
“What I suspect, are very dangerous arrowheads.”

 
“Well, I must admit that I have no skill as an archer.”

 
“No problem, they’ll be archers enough when we get to Niota.”

 
He smiled thinly, “You might as well tell me your tale.”

 
Nodding, she watched the land pass around them as their mount sped down the old road in what once had been the Province of Niota. “It started when I came on duty at the end of my friend Esperanza’s shift… She’s my best friend, practically a sister. We have long been struggling to scry the Northlands, so …”

#

It was late morning when Galt reached his destination, and there she was,

just like in
his dream. He slowed his mount

 
“So, I am told that you have something for me.”

 
“I take it that you are in the market for a bane sword.”

 
He laughed, “Most definitely. Mind showing me it mage mark?”

 
“You won’t find one. Believe me; I have examined it rather closely.”

 
“Perfect, then I can enchant it and mark it as Faeryn.”

 
The young elvin woman frowned, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. It’s not that kind of bane sword.”

 
“What?”

 
“Don’t draw it while working magery, I’m told we really wouldn’t like what happens.”

 
He offered her his arm. “In that case, climb aboard, so we brook no delay.” She mounted behind him. Galt turned the horse around and began his return to the city.

He watched his chosen ride off with a mage, who was considered a heretic for not verbalizing spells. He wondered when they had taken the oral tradition so literally.

 
‘Over time the Demonlord has eroded much of our knowledge.’

 
‘Oh, now you want to be helpful,’
he said, amused.

 
‘I thought I would take a moment to check on you.’             

 
‘What you mean is that you decided to spy on me, Youngling.’

 
‘Actually, I have questions. You see, there have been changes to reality that are beyond my ken.’

 
‘Yes, paradox has a power all its own.’

 
‘Ancient One, will you… help me understand what has happened?’

 
‘Now what would be the fun in that?’
He laughed.
‘Go watch over that human of yours. He’ll get himself into trouble without you angeling him.’

 
The enchanted form whisked back to the city.

 
If he would have still had a physical form, he would have shaken his head.
‘Je’orj Bradlei, you are going to be quite the burr in my old friend’s side… And I get to watch. It’s so much fun being dead – and freed from my eternal prison.’

 
He thought they would also enjoy the little present he had sent.

Tale of Two Scryers

Chapter 49

“W
here are you, Esperanza!?” the Lady shouted in frustration. She had left the Tower and driven the carriage southward. She stayed overnight at an inn along the Lyai Northland Road. Now, she took the time to use the scrying bowl, which had lay clouded for too long, revealing nothing of the two young women who threatened all her long set forth plans.

  She tried searching for the other young woman again. Chanting softly, she called up the scrying, then muttered, “Amira, Amira, show yourself... I seek you, and your dear friend, Esperanza. You will lead me to her.”

  The waters suddenly began to clear and Amira’s imagine formed. The Lady smiled. Amira was with another, his form misty and vague. Both were riding hell bent toward a dim structure in the distance. “What have we here, Amira? Who is your friend? Where have you been?”

 
The image shifted. She saw a distant place. It was clouded, obscured, but some things she could still see. A great stone was flung from its misty walls, dirt and rock erupted at its impact and a soldier crumpled. Another stone, and another, followed in turn and a gate opened.

 
The Lady Mother screeched, “No! What are you doing there?”

 
The shambling form could be seen grinning as it closed the gate behind the two latest guests.
Pounding her fists on the table before her upset the scrying bowl, casting water all about. “No! They are ruining everything!”

Talik and Amira brought their mounts to an abrupt halt. Three ogres surrounded them, while harried looking Imperial troopers stared down at them from the keep’s high walls.

  “Lord Talik?” the Sergeant rasped in astonishment. 

  The elvin mage looked up at the man and half smiled, “Sergeant Winton, how nice to see you again.”

  “Only because of ‘em ogres... Never was more surprised by such allies in me life.”

  The other soldiers began whispering to one another, “It’s the Lyai’s heir, himself.”

  “But he’s that Faeryn heretic.
He’s wanted for treason!”

 
“If he can help us, who cares?!”

 
“Who’s in command?” the Faeryn Provincial Archmage asked as Amira looked about her wide–eyed.

  The ogre in front of them shambled forward and pointed. “He –– is –– Master –– here.”

  A boy –– a human youngster in elvin mail emblazoned with the symbol of Niota, strode down from the ramparts, “That would be me.” He bowed, “Milord, I’m Lord Niota, but you can call me Thomi.”

  Talik stared, leaning back in his saddle. “You claim Niota?”

  Yep. NI–O–TA recognizes me, which should be good enough for anyone,” the boy said.

 
The sergeant added, “Also, by force of arms, Milord.”

  “My –– arms,” the ogre said, holding out his fists.

The Sergeant added, “Milord, begging your pardon... Best you see for yourself what the lad’s done with the place. That’s what really settled matters for me and my men.”

  Talik nodded and Amira began to dismount.

 
The self–appointed Lord Niota offered Amira his hand. Taking it,

she abruptly shivered. She stared into the eyes of this human boy

and knew them as well as her own.

 
As her feet reached the ground, she looked into the boy’s face. He was no more than twelve or thirteen. He blinked, staring at Niota’s sigil emblazoned on her form fitting chainmail. “Uh, interesting choice,” he muttered.

 
His ogre friend grinned, “Good.”

 
“Uh, Talik, is it my imagination, or is he human?”

 
The Faeryn Archmage nodded, “I noticed that. I’m just chalking it up to one of the many unusual things that seem to be going on since I first met you… So, let’s talk inside where I can raise the proper wards for privacy.”

  Thomi smiled, “You won’t need to do that, Milord... Niota wards itself

now –– as apparently a Trelorian mage learned to his rue.”

  Talik at first doubted, knowing full well that most of the wards protecting the towns and long established settlements had grown weak over the centuries. He glanced about him, he felt more secure in this courtyard than any place he had ever known. He gaped. Niota warded itself, indeed.

  Amira found herself unable to let go of the boy’s hand as he led them inside. The foremost ogre marched beside them as his fellows respectfully stepped back. Talik stared, he had never heard of ogres behaving in so civilized a manner. What was going on here? Had he really heard the creature speak an intelligible word?

Esperanza walked her lamed horse up the road.
‘He will be here soon.’

 
“Who?”

 
‘A Faeryn mage.’

 
She stopped, “You’re sending a heretical mage to aid me?”

 
There was laughter,
‘Heretic is in the eye of the beholder, my dear.’

 
“So am I to give the sword to him?”

 
‘He will need it, but he is not to fully draw it.’

 
“Fine, why may I ask?”

 
There was a long pause.
‘I do not think the city wards are capable of

handling the resultant explosion.’

He rode for hours when he came over a hill and heard,
‘You are nearly there.’

 
Galt grimaced, seeing in the distance a woman in chainmail of all things, removing her saddle for her horse and letting it roam free. Minutes later he reached her and stopped his mount. “Milady, I see your horse has gone lame.”

 
“She will be fine, Milord. She’s only a strained muscle. I’ve healed her as best I could.”

 
“Impressive, now why have I been summoned to your aid?”

 
Esperanza shook her head. “It’s a long story, Milord… But all you need to know at this moment is that I need to warn the Lyai––”

 
“We’ve been warned about Niota and that the Scrying Network has been compromised.”

 
“Would you happen to need a witness?”

 
He offered her his arm, “Now that’s an excellent reason to have lost

sleep!”

  She climbed behind him, “I have also got something you are apparently going to need.”

 
Moving his mount back around, he concentrated and willed strength and vigor into his mount, which neighed and bolted forward.

 
“Anything else I need to know?”

 
“Only that I need to warn you about it…”

Balfour tried not to complain about the bumpy ride. It was the hay he was concealed under that he hated most. The gentle snuggle was something he had come to enjoy.

 
Cle’or drove the cart up to the city gate. The guardsmen gestured for her to halt her oxen.

 
“Purpose in the city?” the most senior asked.

  “Delivery to Master Hamian.”

  “Where’s your man? You don’t look like the run-of-the-mill driver?”

 
“I’m a midwife... I’m doing this as a favor for a young couple that are new parents. The wife’s birthing was difficult. I told them I would take the cart and come back with the herbs she’ll need.”

  “You’re not from around here.” Two of his men moved to poke through the straw, then their eyes glazed over.

  “I’m from Tane...” Balfour heard Cle’or say as he concentrated hard on the two men. He helped them see themselves checking the cart and growing more bored by the minute. “Thought the work here might be, uh, a bit more pleasant.” Balfour sweated as he slowly released their minds, leaving the memory of their search firmly planted in their minds.

 
The guard nodded at that, “The Tane is not noted for his generosity of late.”

  “No, he certainly is not.”

  “Did everything check out?” the guardsman asked his men.