Secrets at the Keep (Kingdom of Denall Book 2) (6 page)

As night was about to fall, Farin saw one of the captured bandits, the one who had injured Odon, screaming and thrashing frantically as three men dragged him toward Odon's wagon. Farin noticed that this man looked only about five years older than Farin himself. Although young, the man had a strength mark, and he was using all his power to resist his captors.

“What are they going to do to him?” Farin asked Blade as they watched the scene.

“This will be good for you to see yourself,” Blade answered cryptically, then he patted Farin on the back and the pair walked behind the villain on his way to Odon.

Odon got off his wagon and, supported by Razor, walked up to stand in front of the defiant prisoner. The man spat in Odon's face. “I should have thrown that rock harder!”

Odon, calm as ever, wiped his face clean and responded to the man. “Hello, my name is Odon. In our tradition, a person who is assaulted has the right to declare his attacker's fate. According to the laws of Denall, attacking our caravan is a crime punishable by death.”

“Then kill me, old man,” the man said through gritted teeth.

Odon continued as though he had not been interrupted, “Assaulting the elderly is punishable by death. Attempting to assault another member of our family, a young girl, should make you feel like a coward, and attempted assaults on women and children is also punishable by death.” Odon straightened and walked right up to the bandit. “We don't treat lightly the crimes you have committed, but we also don't treat lightly the responsibility of taking the life of another.” At this pronouncement the man stopped struggling so fiercely, and it seemed he was starting to realize that he was not being sentenced to death. His features softened and a look of complete confusion came across his face. “The verdict for your crimes is forgiveness.”

With this said, Odon motioned for him to be released. Untied, and free to leave, the man stood completely flabbergasted. For several moments he looked from face to face in the group of men who surrounded him.

“I planned an attack on your caravan, I would have stolen all that you have, and I tried to kill you. Why are you letting me go free?”

“Oh my young friend, I am not letting you go free. I am letting you go indebted. You will live the rest of your life knowing what happened here this day. From this time forward you are tasked with the responsibility of going back to where you came from and undoing all the evil you have done in this world. This is how you will repay your life debt to me.” Odon handed the young man a small bag of coin. “Use this well.”

Nodding his head, the man looked to the rest of the gang who were still tied up. “What about them?”

Odon looked over at the crew of men who were tied up. “What do you think we should do with them?”

The man thought for a moment, then he looked at Odon. “I think with some guidance they can turn around.”

Odon nodded. “That was what we thought of them too.” Then Odon extended his hand to the man.

For a long moment the man did not move. Then, slowly, he returned the gesture. Odon clasped the man's hand. “What is your name?”

The man looked at Odon and then spoke softly. “I was named after my father, a thief and a murderer. I am not proud of the legacy or the name he left me. You are giving me a new chance at life and I want to begin with a new name.” Straightening his back he looked around and made his declaration. “I would be honored to be known by the name of Odon.”

Completely surprised, Farin looked to his mentor and found in his face that this announcement was a surprise to all present. Odon was clearly touched by this offer, and with a nod of approval, he shook the man's hand.

“Farewell, Odon. Be sure to bring honor to the name. I received it from my father, who was a good man.”

Trae’s stallion leapt over a fallen log as he dodged through a seldom used horse trail south of Lexingar. From the time that he and Dune had poisoned the Han’Or, the pair had ridden their horses to the point of exhaustion each day, then, when the animals couldn’t carry them, they walked alongside them until it was too dark to travel.

Poisoning the magical elixir had worked better than expected to destroy the seekers, and the King’s Guard had gathered several prisoners of the seekers who had survived, but there were still two very big problems. Genea, the magician seeker, and Melna, the leader of the seekers. Both had vanished when the tent exploded, and now Trae and Dune were following some clues they had pieced together from questioning the seekers in Lexingar; clues that sent them after Genea.

The magician seeker had been very close to Melna, even posing as her daughter, so they charged south, trying to catch Genea, and hoping Melna was with her. Because of the unfamiliar route, and the interrogations that had taken the better part of an entire day, they had fallen behind by quite a bit. But after two weeks of pursuit, they were finally feeling that they were close behind.

“There’s another one.” Trae called out as they passed a man lying on the ground. He held his hands out, begging any passersby to stop and give some aid. They had seen nine such seekers along this path, all with opaque white eyes, all begging for help. They had stopped to question the first two, but sadly their minds had already been gone. Now they just pushed on.

Dune slowed down to push past a thick bush which had grown in the path. He used some magic to press the branches back while he and Trae rode through. As they walked their horses they talked.

“This trip has been exhausting. I will eventually need to stop and rest.” Dune said softly through clenched teeth.

Trae nodded. Although the details were not entirely clear to him, he knew that Dune’s magic power was connected with his physical condition, and he needed all his strength to face another magician.

“Is she strong?”

“She is unnaturally strong for someone who has a low level gift.” Dune replied absently. It was obvious that his mind was somewhere else.

“How do you know her level?” Trae asked. “I can’t tell the level of another strongarm unless I see his mark.” He tapped his shoulder where the mark indicating the strength of his gift was.

Dune looked thoughtful for a moment before responding. “A combination of things; the way she ran away when I confronted her lets me know she is insecure about her strength, and the fact that I have never heard of her before. Level four and five magicians are very rare and we all trained together.” He then pulled on the reins of his horse, urging it to turn slightly to the left.

“So, how is she so strong if she has a low level?” Trae asked, walking his horse in stride with Dune’s.

“My best guess is that she has been overworking her magic her entire life,” Dune said sadly. Trae knew there was a time when his friend had been treated similarly. “She was probably used as a slave to make the magical items they all use.”

Trae had his horse follow in silence for a moment. He knew Dune’s hatred for slave owners, and couldn’t blame him for the tense and angry look on his features. “Well that explains how they all had those rare items. I wonder where she came from.”

“The southern desert is where all the magicians live. When we catch up to her, I’m going to do all I can to make them pay for what they have done to her.” Dune’s voice was low, but stern and chilling. Then he spoke softly, barely above a whisper. “I can’t imagine what that cursed elixir is doing inside her.”

“It’s probably doing what it does inside anyone.” Trae said offhandedly as he pushed a low hanging branch to the side. “Making them see magic at the cost of sanity and sight.”

“It’s more than that.” Dune pulled his horse to a stop and looked at Trae for a long moment. “Magic is not just our gift, it is… well, it makes us whole. It permeates our entire being. We don’t need to see magical items – we can reach out with magic and feel them. It’s not natural for anyone to take that Han’Or, but for a magician… well, I’m sure it’s different.”

“Well that’s good news for us.” Trae said optimistically.

“What?” Dune asked not looking happy at Trae’s pronouncement.

“If she’s feeling that stuff tearing her apart inside, she might be more apt to help us out.” Trae smiled hopefully, but Dune just shook his head.

“More likely she’ll go crazy and incinerate us with a fireball.”

“Do you have any good news for us?” Trae asked with a worried tone.

Dune shrugged and smiled slightly. “Your disguise has faded, and you look like yourself again,”

Trae clapped his hands on his face. “I’m so happy to have you back!” he practically shouted.

“Yeah,” Dune agreed, “This way you can die knowing your face looked normal.”

Trae dropped his smile. “I think we’d better stop for some rest before we cross paths with Genea.”

“We need a good balance,” Dune replied, kicking his horse into motion again. “If we stop now, we’ll lose her. We will set up camp a little early tonight, but then we need to be moving again before dawn.”

“Is that going to be enough time for you to rest?” Trae asked with concern.

“It will have to do. She is probably just as tired as we are, trying to keep up this pace.” While he tried to make his voice sound confident, Trae could tell that he was trying to cover a mix of complicated emotions. As Trae watched, Dune rubbed an old scar on his left arm.

*****

The next morning as the sun rose, the men were charging south again. They had passed through the side trails and were now making good time as they came across a well-travelled road. Their riding was slowed somewhat as they passed other travelers.

“Where are we?” Trae asked.

Dune looked up ahead, “That’s Gulpa Lake,” Dune said, pointing to a lake in the distance. “We’re on the border between the Lexingar Barony and the far north-east border of the Norwell region.”

“This area is governed by the king?” Trae asked in confusion.

“Governed is a strong word,” Dune corrected. “On the outskirts of regions like this the villages tend to govern themselves. Guards might patrol through here every month or so to help with safe passage of a large shipment from one of the larger cities, but for the most part, villages have their own watch or small group of town guards mostly made up of farmers.”

“That doesn’t sound too secure,” Trae remarked.

“You might be surprised at how strong a group of determined farmers can be,” Dune replied. “But in some ways you are right.”

“For example,” Trae commented with a grin, “it’s a perfect place for a group of runaway seekers to hide.”

“You’ve got that right.”

As they moved down the road, Trae kept a sharp watch out for any sign of Genea or Melna, as they still did not know whether the women were together. Dune searched each person they passed to ensure they were not using magic for disguise. As Trae and Dune were not in disguise, he also watched for anyone acting excessively cautious or skittish when they approached.

After almost five hours of traveling, Trae pointed ahead. “Does she look familiar?”

Dune looked up at the woman on horseback three hundred paces ahead, but before he could respond, she kicked her horse to a gallop. The two men followed suit, pushing their animals to a run.

After a short gallop, Genea pulled hard on the reins and veered off the road into the woods. Dune led the way, following her off the road into the deciduous forest. They dodged around large tree trunks and crunched the dry leaves and branches as they rushed after Genea.

“Take cover!” Dune shouted to his companion just before a large ball of blue-white ice flew directly at them.

Trae pulled his horse to the side and stopped behind a large cherry tree. Dune pressed his fingers together in front of himself and formed a wedge of dense air. The ice struck his shield with tremendous force and split in two, startling the horses. After gaining control of their mounts, their pursuit continued.

“Looks like she’s not in a good mood to talk,” Trae called.

“No, but she will be worn down soon.” Dune said, more to himself than to Trae.

As Dune spoke, he saw a ball of fire racing at them. It left in its wake a scorched path of leaves, branches, and large trees. Some of the smaller trees disintegrated and fell as the massive fireball passed effortlessly through. Dune threw a ball of ice to intercept the fireball and they met with an explosion of sizzling steam. The men charged through the magician-made fog just in time to see the next attack. Dune blocked rocks, ice, and fire. He then reached out to break open an invisible blockade as they gained ground on Genea.

When he was within range, Dune threw some of his own attacks, though they were not intended to injure, but to wear her down. He threw small amounts of water and fire. The less experienced magician created elaborate shields to block the small attacks, and in so doing drained what was left of her energy.

Following Dune’s example, Trae fired an arrow at Genea. She made a shield of air that covered her back and the arrow fell harmlessly to the side. The pair continued to attack Genea until they saw her rocking in the saddle. Dune threw one final attack, this time in front of her. He created a net of air fifty paces in front of her running animal, and when they passed he also threw a decoy ball of hardened air at her. Her magic was so depleted that both attacks hit her. The air struck her back and threw her off the horse into the net. When she hit the net, it wrapped around her and held her fast. Dune slowed his horse to a walk and approached his captive with caution.

“Hello Genea.”

Struggling to escape was pointless, but she still shook her shoulders from side to side against the restraints. When she stopped moving, she glared straight at Dune. “What do you want?”

“I am here to help,” Dune said with more emotion in his voice than he would have liked.

“You don’t know anything. You can’t possibly begin to help me.” She again thrashed from side to side, trying to break the restraints. “You don’t know anything!” she repeated, this time spitting the words. She gathered a small amount of magic to make an attack on Dune, but he quickly dissolved her attack.

Dune motioned for Trae to give them some space and Trae turned his horse around and led Dune’s horse on a small cool down walk. Now that their conversation was more private, Dune pulled up the left sleeve of his robe, revealing his five marks and then his forearm. On his arm two letters were branded: MS. ‘Magician Slave.’ Genea stopped fighting the restraints, and looked at him for the first time. Like nobody else possibly could, they understood each other. She opened and closed her eyes quickly, trying to hold back tears.

He spoke softly, answering the unspoken question. “I was taken from my home, betrayed by someone I trusted, and used for my magical ability for many years.” Genea silently listened as he continued. “They worked me to exhaustion each day, only giving me rest when I passed out.”

Before she realized the question was out, Genea spoke, “How did you get away?” He knew there was so much to her question. It was not about him, but a plea, and a desperate desire for herself. If someone else was able to escape, maybe there was hope for her.

“I was saved,” Dune replied solemnly, looking over his shoulder. Trae was out of sight, but Dune could hear the horses walking not too far away. “Someone who didn’t know me then, but became a dear and trusted friend, risked his life to help me escape.”

“Nobody came to save me,” she said bowing her head to look at the ground. “Nobody cared that I was gone.” She began to sob and tremble against the cords of magic that held her. “I was taken so long ago, I don’t even remember my name. My entire life all I can remember is Melna.” Her words were punctuated by tears, and then she began an uncontrollable fit of weeping and shaking. Her shaking was at first caused by the sobbing, then it became more violent and out of control. Dune began chanting a healing spell as he ran his hands in the air above her body. When the fit subsided, she lay on the ground, looking up at the sun.

“What happened, Mama? Where am I?” Her eyes were wide open, as an innocent child looking up to her parent.

“Oh no.” Tears streamed down Dune’s cheeks. “Please, Genea.” Dune moved his hands in the air above her body, feeling, through magic, for a way to bring her back to the present. “Please don’t go.”

“It’s dark, Mama,” she said with fear in her eyes. “I’m scared, why is it so dark? Help me, Mama!” She closed her eyes and calmed down for just a brief moment, then opened her eyes with intensity. They had a thin layer of white film that was beginning to form. Through gritted teeth she growled, “Melna! Melna!”

Dune was not a master healer, but he pressed magic into Genea, trying to fill her with energy and life. “Genea please, we can stop her, she will never hurt anyone again. You need to tell me. Where is Melna going?” Dune pleaded. “What is Mordyar’s plan?”

“I can’t say,” Genea sobbed. “She’ll get angry.” She began shaking her head.

“You are safe now; I won’t let her get to you. Please tell me.” Dune released her from the invisible cage and pulled her close. He needed to get the information from her, but more importantly, he needed to save this magician from her terrible fate. He needed to hope that it was possible to bring her back. He poured magic through the Magic Stone into her body. Once he started, it was unstoppable. All his physical strength and magical power were drained from him as Genea was filled. It was like nothing he had experienced before; it was as if her entire being was so depleted of magic and life that it leached everything from him. When he sagged to the ground, Genea sat up and looked at Dune with clarity in her eyes. The white film was gone.