Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (34 page)

Aquendar took the weapons and looked at them for a
moment before slinging them over his shoulder. “This is
more than enough repayment for something I didn’t need
repaid. You’re very generous. Thank you.”

“It is our way to compensate those that help us, and you
saved many lives with your rear assault. I only wish the
other men with you were here so that we could reward
them also. Without your leadership and money, they would
not have come to our rescue, though, so we will count the
score even. Live long and in health Aquendar.”

The week passed and the expedition felt back at full
strength. The rest of their journey would need to be fast to
avoid the weather. Yet, they felt prepared to undertake the
trials ahead of them. The next kingdom, Napfin, waited for
their visit.

A refreshed, confident expedition rode out of the
perpetually beautiful Greenhaven into a driving storm of
wind and rain. The system rapidly built as the group rode
northeast towards Napfinak, reaching hurricane proportions
in a very short time. In the noise of the driving rain, the
call for a halt had to be shouted at the top of Tych’s lungs,
and even then it didn’t get heard by some of the riders in
the back. They pulled up short, slipping and sliding on the
already slick ground.

Tych struggled to turn his horse and reach Nandel as his
cloak stood straight out in the wind, pulling him
dangerously close to falling off his horse. He reached the
magician and asked, “Do you have any spells that will
allow us to be safe until the storm passes? We have to ride
through too many trees and I’m afraid the branches that
have been coming loose might pose a danger to us.”

“Perhaps a dragon would be best suited to do something
about the weather. Their nature makes them better able to
influence things of the physical world.”

“Why can’t you do it? You possess the same powers
through your magic.”

“I need to be able to do it undisturbed. The wind and
rain will make it very difficult to cast the spell controlling
this would take. A dragon can perform the same things
through the power of the mind and the weather won’t
interfere with performance of it. If I get my spell changed
even the slightest bit because the wind or rain changes
pronunciation of a single word or the performance of a
gesture, I could make this worse.”

“Very well, I will do my best. Take charge of the group
and get them to the best shelter you can. I’ll have to
practice over the ocean once before I try anything over the
group.” As the rest of the expedition huddled under their
hoods and capes against the storm’s onslaught, Tych
dismounted and put a few yards between the group and
him. With a moment of concentration, he dissolved into a
large blur, and then came together in dragon form.

With the aid of a momentary thought, he pumped his
wings once and launched into the air, amazed at how little
effect the elements had on his flight. In seconds he broke
through the clouds and reached an area above the hurricane
in the calm. His teachers had explained the formation of
this kind of storm and the power of it, but from above an
actual occurrence, an idea came to him.

With a breath of inspiration, he dove, gaining speed and
preparing to pass the speed of sound. He entered the
swirling storm going the opposite direction that it turned.
He reached top speed and circled the eye against the wind.
He continued racing around for five or ten minutes before
his wings began to tire and he made a disheartening
discovery. In the same way the wind and rain failed to
affect his flight, his motion held no influence over the
former. Disappointed, he rose up above the clouds again
and glided on the up currents. He decided the aching in his
wings resulted from the eventual battering of what he had
just attempted. He had no idea what to do next, and he
knew he needed help.

As if called, a lone figure came swooping down from
the north, soaring on wide wings. Tych braced himself for
a possible battle, but circled slowly around as the sun
reflected off of Doleof’s golden scales. The grand dragon
hovered in front of Tych and said, “Hover the same way
you travel very fast: mentally.” Tych did so and Doleof
continued, “What is it you need? Your mental call was
very strong.”

“How do I affect this storm?”

Doleof laughed. “When we destroyed the storm in the
north earlier this year, the one that swept you several miles
to the river, it took several of us. It took tremendous
amounts of energy and effort by all of us.”

“Help me destroy this one so that we can continue our
journey,” responded the prince.

“Your need is localized enough that you don’t need any
help. Did you notice your immunity to the storm as you
flew up here?”

“Yes.”

“That was an automatic reaction. You can extend that
protection like a shield with your mind, forming a ‘quiet
zone’ around you. You may be able to do this in endaril
form; we can only do it as dragons. Enter the storm and try
it. I will wait for you up here.”

Tych let himself slowly turn and fall into the clouds.
There he hovered and willed himself to extend the
protection from his body. As Doleof had told him he
could, he pushed the wind and rain away from him until he
had a large sphere of calm around himself. Satisfied he
could repeat it, he climbed back up into the clear air above.
“Thank you, Doleof, I didn’t expect you to come.”

“You are very welcome, Tych. Next time, pay attention
to how forcefully you think something when in this form.
Dragons transmit strong thoughts and you are particularly
powerful. Somebody less friendly may come next time.
To your health, Prince Tych.” The Guard of Buhlaht
turned, did a barrel roll and sped off into the horizon. Tych
aimed his head at the ground and dove.

In a few minutes he found the expedition and alighted
near them. They all hid under a thick canopy of branches,
miserable in the rain and cold. Tych walked in amongst
them, in endaril form, and concentrated. In a few seconds
they all lifted their heads and looked around, still cold and
wet but not getting any worse. They all looked at their
warrior leader and he explained what he had done.
Aquendar built a fire and Tych opened a small hole in the
mental ‘tent’ for the smoke to escape. Soon they felt warm
and dry and engaged themselves in other activities until the
storm passed.

The next day the expedition rode across a landscape
strewn with destruction. Huge trees lay in the road and
deserted and destroyed merchant caravans dotted the
countryside. Above them, the sun baked their armor and
the leaves rustled in a light breeze. The hurricane had
passed over in the night and left ruin and clear skies.

By zenith the walls of Napfinak rose in the distance.
Tall towers guarded every side and men walked on the
walls. Quez yelled up to Tych to stop and the expedition
halted. “The paranoia of this kingdom is even greater than
the last time I witnessed it. They will be wary of magicians
after the storm they went through.”

Tych pondered this for a moment. He turned to
Aquendar and asked, “What do you know about this
kingdom?”

“Quez is right. There are many more guards and the
gates are closed. If a war has broken out down here that we
don’t know about, we could have some recruiting difficulty
here.”

“Nandel, Blard and Quez, stay here with the pemilons
and watch from a distance. If we need to get away from the
city fast, give us cover with some fireworks.” The
magicians and pemilons moved away into nearby trees and
the rest of the expedition began to move slowly towards the
city. In a few minutes they sat outside the city gates, half a
dozen bows pointed at them from the walls.

Tych dismounted and walked to the gate window. It
slid open and a wrinkled face filled it. “What do you
want?” it croaked in a hoarse voice.

“We seek an audience with the king,” responded Tych.

“Who are you to demand such a thing from Our Royal
Majesty and Lord?” The old man spoke with considerable
disdain for the visitors.

“I am Prince Tych di Corl of the Endarils and I bring
high-ranking officials from all over the continent.”

“Endarils are devils and probably brought the storm on
us yesterday. Be gone and spread no more disaster around
here!” The window slammed shut.

Tych concentrated for a moment and stepped towards
his horse. As he climbed on, the call to fire rang down
from above and bows began to twang. His shield spell
stopped the missiles, however, and they sped off out of
range, fireballs and lightning bolts coming from the trees
where the magicians hid.

Reaching the safety of the trees, out of range of the
archers, Tych turned his horse and looked back towards the
gates. “It does not appear that they want to cooperate. Any
suggestions?”

“We should burn the city to the ground,” answered
Reichet.

Everybody looked at him funny, except Sir Xalt who
said, “I can’t be party to anything deceitful or destructive of
human life for no apparent reason. I find Reichet’s
suggestion absurd.”

“That’s how I meant it.”

Lendril raised her hand and responded, “We’ll consider
all other options before going that direction, Xalt, though I
seriously doubt it will come to Reichet’s plan. If we decide
on anything disruptive to your nature, you’ll be excused
from the discussion.

“Now, any other possibilities?” Finished the princess.

“My first suggestion would be to pull back,”
contributed Aquendar. “They will probably send out a
sortie to destroy us, fearing for their safety.”

Tych nodded. “I, too, fear such an occurrence. Yet, we
need information. We’ll ride to the nearest town and send
in somebody to find out what is happening. Aquendar, you
know the land best, so take us to the nearest village.”

Without another word, they turned and sped off to the
southeast, Aquendar leading the way across the sponge-like
countryside. In about an hour they slowed up just outside a
small town. Tych reined in next to the horse master and
said, “You go in and discover what you can. Nandel will
go with you in case you need a quick exit, if you
understand my meaning.”

Aquendar nodded. “That will do fine. I have a few
friends in here.” Only Tych and Lendril noted his
inflection on friends and thought anything of it.

Nandel rode to the front and the two humans trotted
towards the gates. A guard came out and met them, but the
expedition stayed out of sight. Aquendar knew him and
after a laugh between them, he admitted the two riders into
the city.

Once they were in, as they rode down the street,
Aquendar turned to Nandel and said, “I must ask you to
stay outside the inn while I enter. My contacts here are
very protective of their identity.”

“Fine. I will keep watch and prepare to make a
diversion, if needed. I know of your other life, my friend.”
Nandel smiled a wry smile.

Aquendar pulled up his horse and gave the wizard a
dangerous look. “Tell me how you know. I would kill you
if I didn’t have to trust you.”

Nandel turned his horse to face Aquendar, having
ridden onward a little ways. “I’m over three thousand
years old and will live for another seven thousand. It is as
much a secret as yours. I came with the first humans to
land on this continent, and I make it my business to keep
track of what’s happening.”

Aquendar paused and looked around himself at the
twenty or so people going about their business on the
sidewalks. “I trust you, wizard, though trust is a rare and
precious thing for a magician to get from me. Now keep
your mouth shut about this.”

“Yes, you sound very trusting.” The sarcasm dripped,
but Nandel had a big smile on his face. “Come, you must
discover why we had to flee.”

Nandel turned his horse in their original direction and
let Aquendar lead the way. In a short time in this small
town, they reached an inn. The companions tied their
horses to a railing and Aquendar went inside. Nandel
walked across the street as if he truly had business over
there, then cut into an alley between two houses. He
watched the door of the inn and waited in the dim light of
the dirty, garbage-filled passage.

A few minutes passed and the streets started getting
busier as the afternoon grew longer. Suddenly, Nandel
snapped out of a daydream at the sound of breaking glass.
He saw the breaker land in the middle of the road as the
people passing the window covered themselves, trying to
keep glass out of their skin. The wizard saw the man in the
road moan and roll over onto his stomach, but he knew it
wasn’t Aquendar.

Nandel stood and began to slowly make his way to the
fallen human as he pushed himself up and stood. The
ruffian carried a crossbow on his back, and as he pulled it
out, the magician drew his dagger and came up behind him.
Aquendar stepped out of the inn door and stopped, the
weapon coming to bear on his chest. The archer stood only
four yards away, and at that range a crossbow would pin
the warrior to the door.

The bolt never left, as Nandel placed his dagger point
against the neck of the threatening human and told him to
drop it. With careful haste, the stranger raised his right
hand and the crossbow up and to the right. Nandel ducked,
kicked the man on the side of his knee and stood, narrowly
avoiding being struck by the backhand swing of the
crossbow. The weapon landed a few feet away and the
human began to get up, ready to fight. A couple quick
words by Nandel and he froze in mid-crouch.

Without another word, the two expedition members
went to their horses, mounted and turned towards the gates.
Once outside, Aquendar turned to his companion and said,
“Thank you. You surprised me with your instincts and
stealth.”