Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (172 page)

“I’ll live. Maybe I will. If Julia were here I would have no doubt, but the sorcerers… sorcerers do things… differently.”

The guardsmen spat at the mention of the sorcerer’s so-called healing. “It hurts something awful lad,” Burke whispered. “Alvin nearly screamed the tent down, and he only had a scratch!”

“A scratch!” Alvin whispered in outrage. “I was nearly dead!”

Lorcan ignored the whispers as he grasped his magic and used his sight to study their bonds. Would the sorcerers have done anything tricky, or would they have used a simple magic rope? It looked simple, which was lucky as anything too complex would be beyond him. He sent a prayer winging its way to the God and one to the Lady then applied his magic to the glowing matrix; it died instantly.

Thank the God!

“Thanks,” Burke said and drew the sword hanging at Lorcan’s waist.

Burke went to the tent flap to keep watch while Lorcan released everyone. He was worried about Keverin. The lord had not moved from his position against the centre post. His face was white, completely devoid of colour and he was sweating profusely.

“What’s wrong with the Lord?” he whispered to Burke as he joined him at the tent flap. “He doesn’t look good.”

“I don’t know for sure. He’s been like that since the battle. The General called a sorcerer to see to him, but the healing only fixed the stump. I think he was kicked in the head when Cavell went down. I didn’t see it, but I know what it’s like.”

“Will he be all right?”

Burke shrugged. “About as much as the rest of us I’m thinking. There’s only you. I’m right aren’t I?”

He nodded. “Julia thinks him dead. She’s leading the clans away south. She’s different now Burke. She’s cold and hard and doesn’t care what happens as long as she can kill sorcerers.”

“Don’t tell him, lad. It will only make things worse. Have you a plan?”

“I came in through the jakes. If I can get some armour for you we could pretend to take him there.”

“Can you do it?”

“I can try,” Lorcan said grimly. “I will.”

Burke handed the sword back and Lorcan sheathed it. He took one last look around and stepped into the night. Behind him as he made for the tent he had earlier ducked into, Burke pulled the tent flap closed leaving a tiny gap to keep watch.

Lorcan stopped outside the tent and looked around. The other tents shielded him very well but he did not hang about. He ducked into the tent and quietly went to work with a dagger. After silently killing all ten of the legionnaires, he gathered up two sets of armour. They were heavy and he struggled to carry it all. Now was the time to get caught, he thought, but again the God was on his side and he was not seen.

“Well done lad!” Burke said clapping Lorcan so hard on the shoulder that he nearly fell. “Alvin, put this on. I’ll take the other set.”

Burke quickly pulled on the armour and waited impatiently for Alvin. Lorcan meanwhile was examining Keverin. He didn’t know what it meant, but one of Keverin’s pupils was larger than the other—by a lot. He seemed able to see all right, and he was speaking all be it haltingly, but he was worried.

“There’s another eight if you want them,” he said over his shoulder.

“You killed
ten?
” Burke said.

“Twelve. The other two are in the pits.”

Burke just stared at him.

“Are you ready to try this?” he said uncomfortable with the stare.

Burke hesitated. “I don’t want to stay any longer than I must, but the armour—no, we go now.”

“You’re Sergeant Nevin if anyone asks.”

Burke nodded without asking questions though it was obvious he wanted to. Lorcan led the group as confidently as he could with Burke by his side. The men pretended to have their hands tied behind them and walked holding Keverin on his feet in the centre. Alvin walked behind with his sword in hand hoping to look like a rear guard. Lorcan thought the whole thing screamed of an escape attempt, but as he got closer and closer to the jakes his hopes rose.

“Stop!” a voice commanded from out of the darkness.

Lorcan turned to see who was there. His heart sank as he recognised the man’s clothes. This was a sorcerer.

“Where are you taking these men?”

Lorcan thought fast. “To the latrine, my lord sorcerer.”

The dark figure nodded. “Carry on.”

“Yes my lord sorcerer. You heard him Sergeant.”

Burke saluted in the legion fashion and moved on.

“Stop!” the sorcerer said again and moved into the meagre light.

Lorcan stared in disbelief. It was Demophon and he was coming within reach, but then he remembered that the sorcerer would recognise him. He didn’t know what to do for the best. Magic was out; Demophon was too powerful.

“You called this man sergeant. Where is his rank insignia?”

“I—”

“That voice… where do I know you from?”

“I don’t… you don’t know me, my lord sorcerer,” Lorcan said moving close enough to strike. It was all he could think of.

“I’m sure I know that voice,” Demophon said and then he gasped in recognition. “
You!
”

Lorcan could see the shock in the man’s eyes even as he made his dagger drop from his sleeve. The smooth handle of his best blade dropped comfortingly into his cupped palm without the sorcerer seeing it, but then the sky lit up with an explosion. Demophon spun to see a tremendous column of fire reaching for the sky and Lorcan lunged.

“
Ooof!
” Demophon said as he sailed back with Lorcan on top of him.

“This is for Julia,” he growled and plunged the dagger to the hilt in the sorcerer’s black heart.

“
Gahhh!
” the sound exploded from Demophon and his eyes widened in shock. “Odelyn you bast—” he gurgled as he died.

Lorcan stared into the dead eyes and wondered who Odelyn was. Burke was staring at the fire and the others had stopped to gape. Lorcan cursed viciously. Did he have to do everything?

“Move, move, move!”

Burke jumped and everyone ran. Keverin ended up over the shoulder of one of his men as they ran through the camp. Thousands of legionnaires erupted out of their tents yelling questions and gaping at the column of fire. No one stopped them, though some did try. Lorcan and Burke shoved them aside and in a couple of instances stabbed them with their daggers.

“What’s going on?” a sentry shouted from his place on the wall.

Lorcan didn’t have time for a chat. He threw his dagger and killed the man. Burke dragged Keverin over the wall and killed the other sentry as he tried to give the alarm. Another explosion lit the sky and camp both, and then plunged it into darkness just as quickly. Lorcan blinked his dazzled eyes and cursed. His night vision was ruined!

“This way!” Alvin shouted and Lorcan followed the voice.

Lorcan barely escaped impaling as he fell into the ditch. From the screams nearby someone else wasn’t as lucky. The screams died away into sobbing gurgles, which quickly ceased only to be replaced by the grunts of climbing men. Lorcan rolled over the top of the ditch and located Keverin. The lord was stumbling away from the camp, but he was going the wrong way. Lorcan dashed ahead of Alvin and snagged the wayward lord.

Keverin swung on him and he ducked. “For the God’s sake don’t do that!” he snarled into his lord’s blinking eyes.

“I can’t see. My… my eyes… I’m blind.”

“No you’re not. The fire ruined your night vision—mine too.”

Lorcan was panting with more than tiredness when Burke and the others finally caught up and surrounded their lord. Alvin took Keverin’s other arm and Valin took over from Lorcan. Lorcan stopped to stare back at the camp as more fire lit the sky followed by a lightning bolt that stabbed down into the centre of camp. The sorcerers were fighting amongst themselves; he hoped they all killed each other.

“Where to?” Burke shouted.

“River first,” he said panting. “My horse is there. I don’t have another, but we can put the Lord in the saddle at least.

“You mount up and take him to the Lady.”

“What of you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Burke said grimly.

“No,” Keverin whispered. “No. Together or none—”

“Take no notice, he’s out of his head. The General will have a patrol after us any time now. As soon as it’s light, the cursed sorcerers will be using mirrors to find us. You have to go, and go quickly!”

Burke was right, but it was hard. These men were his friends and he didn’t want to leave them. It was a sure thing his magic wasn’t strong enough to deter the Hasians, but what if…

“Listen. I’ll take him with me, the rest of you swim across the river. They won’t bother crossing after you.”

“No,” Burke said. “We’ll fight to slow them down.”

“Don’t be a cursed fool! We only have three swords! Cross the river and you’ll all be safe. I can outrun them I swear!” he said putting as much sincerity into his words as he could. Of course, he was only hoping, but there was a chance at least.

“Order you…” Keverin mumbled. “…order you to cross.”

As the horse came into sight near the riverbank, Burke turned to his men. “Into the water lads, you heard the lord.”

Lorcan caught the reins and held his horse as Alvin and Burke shoved Keverin into the saddle. Behind them Lorcan heard curses as men dumped their armour and jumped into the frigid water. Keverin was lying across the horse’s neck, but he was clinging on.

“Up you go lad,” Burke said.

Lorcan climbed into the saddle as Alvin jumped into the river with his sword in hand. It was awkward mounting like this, but with Burke’s help he finally managed to get comfortable.

“Don’t stop for nothing lad. Denpasser—that’s where you need to go.”

Lorcan nodded and kicked the horse into a trot. Behind him, a lone man dropped his armour and jumped into the river.

* * *

25 ~ Retreat

“Absolutely not captain!” Navarien said. “You will wait until Bannan and Duer reach you. Is that understood?”

“Yes Sir, but I can see the place is deserted even from here. There’s only one building. Admittedly it’s big, but not big enough to hide enough warriors to inconvenience me.”

“Hmmm, you are positive?”

“No doubt at all Sir!”

Navarien looked at Wotan in question, but the sorcerer ceded the decision to him with a shrug and a shake of the head.

He nodded after a moment. “Move in and hold Denpasser, Captain. Push out scouts from there but do not advance until your reinforcements arrive. Clear?”

“Yes Sir!” Corbin saluted with a grin. The mirror cleared and Corbin’s image was replaced by that of a sorcerer.

He handed the mirror back to its owner with thanks, and turned to study his maps. “If Denpasser truly is deserted we can move forward and use it as our next camp.”

“That was a good idea someone had. I wouldn’t have thought of it,” Wotan said in admiration.

Navarien nodded in agreement. Denpasser was completely shrouded in a ward preventing it being seen by mirror. He had thought, wrongly it turned out, that the clans were using it to shield some kind of trap, but with Corbin’s latest communication he was beginning to think the clans were trying to be too clever.

“They used it to slow us down,” he said sweeping his hands forward on the map. “They knew that being unable to see would make us cautious and slow our advance.”

“But now we know what they’re up to we can quicken the pace,” Wotan said with a glance at Magar.

Before Navarien could refute that, Magar did it for him. “Not so. We could be wrong, or worse we could be right and become over confident.”

Navarien nodded in approval. “Yes exactly. When we scry ahead and find a ward, it is natural to hold back and be wary. Do that a few times and we’ll be jumping at shadows, but if we don’t do it we could fall into a trap.”

“I see. When we don’t detect a ward we still have to be wary lest the clans have something tricky hidden in the grass.”

“Exactly so. Corbin will find Denpasser empty I have no doubt. What I do doubt is that the clans will allow us to advance uncontested.”

A short while later Navarien again spoke with Corbin and had his supposition confirmed. Denpasser was indeed abandoned. Navarien immediately resumed the march with the intention of consolidating his forces at Denpasser before proceeding on.

As he rode he absently wondered if Lord Athione had survived and secretly hoped that he had. He admired the man. Anyone who could aspire to have the bitch sorceress for his consort deserved respect! Seriously though, he doubted the lord was a threat any longer. Without Keverin by her side Julia might become completely uncontrollable. It was better that Keverin, crippled or not, was returned to her.

The night of Keverin’s escape was still very fresh in his memory. The overwhelming image that came to him was of fire climbing into the sky as Magar deflected Odelyn’s strike upward, followed quickly by his lightning. Seeing the lightning stabbing down had brought his campaign against Athione surging back to him. He had thought Julia had come to take her revenge upon him. He had gone straight away to retrieve Keverin for use as a hostage. Not very honourable he now thought, but if it saved his men from Julia’s wrath, so be it. Only it hadn’t happened that way. He had found the prisoner’s tent empty and a trail of corpses, including Demophon’s, leading over the east wall and away across the plain. With so much confusion it had seemed inadvisable to order a search, especially when the darkness could have hidden every clansmen on the plain with ease. Wotan had since offered to search with the mirror but Navarien knew that Keverin’s torque would prevent that. Rather than explain his now aborted plan for Keverin, he had declined the offer.

It was noon the following day when they arrived at Denpasser. Corbin and the others were waiting for him. As soon as he had a moment to spare, he listened to their reports.

“The patrols are still out, Sir,” Bannan began and the other two captains nodded. “Reports so far seem to agree that the clans are heading straight south.”

“Any encounters with their warriors?” Navarien questioned.

“None Sir. The tracks are the only reason we know we’re not alone out here.”