Rising of a Mage: Book 03 - A Mage Risen (16 page)

They both nodded. He checked to make sure that Rundo had physical contact with Bumbo and Messah and then he brought the image to his mind—the treeline a mile from Kampar. He didn’t want to just appear in Kampar. Or maybe he did. He changed the image in his head to the training ground inside the guild where he had first learned traveling. Seconds later he was there, looking around, making sure that there was nothing there before making them all substantial again. It wasn’t the first time Bumbo had traveled but he whined and whinnied when it was over just like he had the first time. He looked around. They were inside the guild. They were back in Kampar.

Fredin marched his horde fast. Another tribe had met up with them just after they had started moving this morning. Last night the Chaos God had come to him and foretold that today they would come across a tribe of humans who would help them get into the mountain. These humans were children of chaos, not like other humans. When Fredin saw the camp on top of the hill he called for a stop and summoned all of the clan chiefs. His son and his advisor sat next to him and waited for all of the other chiefs to arrive, which took more than two hours. Each one led his own clan. With close to one hundred and twenty thousand orcs, they were spread out far: it took a long time for word to travel in a big army. Finally he had the clan chiefs of the nine largest orc tribes to be found for hundreds of miles. Orcs had never gathered in sych large numbers in common cause like this before, but here they were, sitting on the ground in a circle in front of him.

“Last night the Chaos God came to Fredin. He tells me that the humans have children of chaos. He says these humans will help the orc
s get into the mountain. He says they have magic. On that hill are the humans. The dwarf mountain is strong. We will use these humans and we will take the mountain. When it is over, if the humans get in the way, we will kill them. If they don’t, well, then we will kill them.”

There was cheering from all of the clan chiefs but one. He stood up. He was the smallest clan chief Fredin had ever seen. He was the last one to arrive and had not seen Fredin kill off the others. All he saw was a wounded orc and a chance to take power. “Why did Fredin wait to tell us til now? How do we know he is not telling lie
? We have all seen the chaos god. He told us to come fight the dwarf. He did not say you must lead. Why did we not see him now?”

Fredin smiled
, and all of the other orcs backed away. Fredin stood. Pain shot through his right side as he pushed himself to his feet. The wound in his leg was painful, but he could still use the leg. He pulled the greatsword off of his back and stared at the other orc. “I am Fredin of the Dungins. Are you making a challenge for the Dungins?”

All of a sudden Fredin saw that the orc wasn’t so sure about the whole thing. “I am Wenig of the Gering clan. I made no challenge. I asked why the Chaos God spoke only to you.”

From behind him Fredin heard his son’s voice. “I am Weigand of the Dungins, and I challenge Wenig the scared.”

Fredin smiled and stepped out of the way as his son walked past. His son wasn’t as big as he was, but he was faster.
Fredin trained and fought with him, and his son was the only orc who was close to his equal. In another year, maybe two, his son would be his better. This was his son’s first challenge. Dungins did not challenge Dungins. Now his son could take his own clan of Dungins, and his clan would still be obedient to the horde leader.

The smaller clan chief sp
at at the feet of Weigand. “You are a child. You have no chance against me. I will cut you down.” The smaller clan chief held two very skinny swords. They were human weapons, finely made and very light. Fredin knew right then how he had become clan chief. He had been faster then other orcs who would have overpowered him. That would have given him a bit of help against a wounded and somewhat slower Fredin, but not against Weigand.

Weigand walked forward and swung
his greatsword in a wide, powerful arc that would have cut the other orc in half if he hadn’t leapt back. The second the blade went by, Wenig was leaping forward, thrusting with both blades. Weigand's greatsword came back just in time to knock both blades away. Wenig spun away from Weigand and reset, as Weigand came down with a big overhead swing. His sword buried in the ground and he had to roll away to avoid the smaller orc’s quick counter-slash.

Fredin was impressed. The smaller orc was very fast. Weigand had figured it out the moment he saw those swords. He was intentionally playing himself as a fighter who relied on his strength to overpower the other
and, Fredin saw, he had made the smaller orc overconfident in his speed. Fredin had to be proud of his son. Now he just had to wait and watch as his son’s plan played out.

When Weigand rolled to his feet
, Wenig was already on him. Weigand blocked the thrust of the first blade just before it buried into his stomach. Then he pivoted to block the slash coming in at his right shoulder. He swung his blade out, forcing Wenig back. Then he leapt forward, making another wide, arcing swing with his greatsword. The swing turned him around so that his back was turned toward Wenig, and Wenig though he had him. He leapt in, thrusting high and low. But before his blades found flesh, Weigand’s greatsword shot out and buried into his chest. As he turned he had switched his grip and pushed his blade straight out behind him. Wenig had literally thrown himself on the end of his opponent’s sword.

Weigand pulled his sword free and then lopped off the old clan chief’s head. He slammed his sword down in
to the ground. Then he bent down and took the orc’s sword belt. He buckled it on, picked up the two swords, and slid them down into their scabbards. Then he lifted his greatsword up and slid it back over his shoulder.

“What are you gonna do with those
?” Fredin asked.

“In case my greatsword gets snagged,” Weigand replied. Then he turned toward the orcs
who had gathered around to watch. “Gather the Gerings.”

It took half the day before the Gerings were gathered. Fredin hated to lose the time
, but the challenge was one of the only traditions the orcs followed. This was also his son’s first challenge, and he was enjoying the spectacle. When the Gerings were finally gathered he watched his son march before them.

“I am Weigand of the Dungins. I claim the Gerings. Who will challenge
?” He waited. When no one challenged him, he continued. “The Gerings are dead. We are the Weigands until the time that we become Dungins again.”

Fredin was proud. His son had just gathered another fifteen thousands orcs to them.
He gave the clan chiefs orders to set camp, as night was approaching. He would take a hundred orcs and whatever clan chiefs wanted to come up the hill to meet with the humans.

Vingaza stood on the hill watching the orcs march toward
him. He had never seen an army of any race as big as this one. He had seen armies of a thousand, even two thousand, and one time he saw almost ten thousand goblins. This was something different. This was well over a hundred thousand. The army went on for miles. When they were about a mile from the hill, the army stopped.

Vingaza watched from his elevated vantage point as a small group gathered at the front of
the massive army. These must be the leaders. He had never heard of orcs who were this organized before. After a while he saw the group spread out. In the center were only two. Then he saw the light reflecting off steel. He couldn’t follow the fight from this distance, but he saw that it ended with the one on the ground being relieved of his head. That was the behavior he had expected.

Vingaza waited for hours as a huge group of the orcs moved from the back of the formation to the front. Then cheering and squealing was heard for a long time. The whole orc army began setting camp. Whatever they had been doing had taken half the day.

Now he watched as a small contingent walked up the hill. In the front were a dozen of the biggest orcs. Behind them came another hundred orcs. These orcs were from the first and biggest group, which Vingaza had seen earlier that day marching in columns and setting up camp in orderly rows. They demonstrated the discipline of a human army, while everything behind them had been a mob. These were like the orc version of knights, the best of the soldiers. The walked in ten columns of ten behind what he now counted as eleven orcs in the front.

Vingaza waited at the top of the hill with Malvagio and Cattivo standing on either side of him. There were another dozen wizards behind him
, each with their own guards. As the orcs approached he easily picked out the leader. He was a full head taller then the one next to him, who was nearly a head taller then the rest. He walked in the center and all of the others gave him and the ones on either side of him plenty of space.

When they got close to the humans
, Fredin put a hand in the air. He took a couple of steps forward with Weigand on his right and Gescheit on his left. The other clan chiefs stayed a few paces back where they could still hear but wouldn’t be involved in the conversation.

“I am Fredin of the Dungins and leader of the
horde. Beside me is my son, Weigand, chief of the Weigand clan and one day the Dungins as well. To my right is my advisor, Gescheit. Behind me are the chiefs of the other eight clans. Behind them are a hundred orcs who will sound the call to the others before running all of you down if you attempt to attack any of us.”

Vingaza was impressed. Orcs were typically ignorant. The few he had actually encountered couldn’t build sentences
; they had spoken like children. “Before we get to business, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“You can ask. I won
’t promise you answers,” Fredin replied.

Vingaza smiled. He liked this orc. Well
, as far as orcs went, anyway. “The clan in the front of the horde is your clan, is it not?”

“That was not
really a question.”

“No, I suppose it wasn’t. You said your son is a clan chief, but he would one day be the chief of your clan. I thought that orc clans could only be taken. How is it that your clan will let your clan pass to your son like a human throne?”

“There may be challengers, but that is unlikely. By the time my son takes my clan his son will be grown. If someone challenged, they would have to be able to fight my son, then me, then his son. It is the way the Dungins have controlled the clan for centuries. We breed the biggest, strongest, fastest and only intelligent orcs, aside from my advisor, that is.”

“
You have appeased my curiosity for now. Thank you for indulging me. For now I guess we should get to figuring out the plan. How long will it be before you can have your horde at Evermount?”

“We are only a couple of hours away. I will have orcs climbing the mountain when the sun comes up,” Fredin replied.

“Well, then, we don’t have much time to plan. I guess we should get started.” Vingaza said with a smile. He was going to enjoy this. He was going to participate in a war with almost no threat of actually being in harm’s way. He had expected to have to deal with some stupid brute, but he had been pleasantly surprised.

Anwar, Rundo, and Grundel stood in one of the training grounds inside the wizards’ guild. “Follow me,” Anwar said, as he headed for the door into the guild. There were six different courtyards like this throughout the guild. This is where Anwar had first learned to travel, where he had spent countless hours working with Mariah as she trained with her sword and he trained with his staff. The memories flooded back. The love in those memories drove him on. He had to do this for her. He had to be good enough. He couldn’t let them win. He couldn’t let the power consume him.

They walked down three halls on their way to Master Gabriel’s office when they finally saw someone.

“Master Anwar, it’s really you! You are going to save them aren’t you?”

“Stop. Calm down. What is your name
?” Anwar asked the boy. He looked familiar. He was about sixteen or seventeen with curly blond hair and big, blue eyes that were filling with tears.

“I am Steven
, Master Anwar. You used to teach my class about magical items.”

“That’s right
. I remember you now. You have grown a lot since I left. Okay, Steven, I just got here. Where is Master Gabriel?”

“They took him
, Master Anwar, him and Master Gibbins. They killed the smith who used to work with your brother in front of the guild and said if they didn’t come out they would keep killing people. I saw the whole thing. When the masters went out, they tied them up and hauled them off to the square. Some guards came then. They killed most of them. A couple lived. They took them to the square, too. One of them was Captain Eric. They have them all locked up in the square for everyone to see. One of the guards died in one of those things last night. You know the wooden things with the three holes for the head and the hands? The ones they use when flogging people? Well, one of the guards’ legs was hurt real bad and last night he strangled in that thing. They got new ones now so they won’t strangle. They say they are going to cut off Captain Eric’s head tonight if you don’t show, then tomorrow the other guard. Then Master Gibbins. Then Master Gabriel. They say.”