The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons (39 page)

LCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVX

James hurried, shield over his head as crossbow bolts rained toward him from the rooftops. His skidded in the snow as he rounded the corner behind Azenairk. “This is getting a tad on the dangerous side. Archers on roofs, battles in the streets and taverns, explosions from magical fire back at the academy, murders in the temple, and all before my first meal. I am not sure
Vallakazz
is a good fit for me.” Dealing with his insecurity in a strange city he could barely recall from drunken travels, James feigned some humor and a laugh. His hands shaking a slight tremble, needing his wine desperately, his stomach wanting to release whatever bile was in there to make room for what he hoped was on the caravan. He prayed they reached it before assassins cut them down. For James, sobering up to this reality was like a bad dream come true, yet here he may actually die.

Covered for the moment in a sidestreet off main Candelabra, the five fugitives caught their breath from the recent dash across the merchant district. Saberrak dropped the dead body he had been using as a shield. One of the assassins had lunged at him in the flight and ended up catching more than ten crossbow bolts for the minotaur, unwillingly. The body hit the cobblestone with a thud, and Saberrak the gray sighed seeing the dead end alley. “How far to the gate, and how many will be there?”

“City guard, maybe ten. It’s around the corner here and down four blocks back on Vanish street.” Gwenneth was catching her breath as it had many years since she had ran anywhere, so many years.

Shinayne crept up to the corner, peering around to her right, seeing the eastern gate in the distance, hearing the sounds of city guard hunting and fighting in the buildings to her left. “There are more than
twenty
at the gate and past that on the bridge, half that in archers above the gate house on the wall walk. With thirty men to cover us, we should just make for the gate, Lady Gwenneth.”

Azenairk walked toward the elf, ducking a crossbow bolt from the street that had deflected off a shield. “Lady Lazlette, your men stand guard at the gate, can we just signal them here and be escorted? It would be much easier than all this sneaking around in your city, avoiding…..” he stopped, the last Thalanaxe thinking on his words, deeply putting an order to questions he had just felt the answer to. “
You
are not Lady Lazlette of Vallakazz, High Wizard of the academy, are you Gwenne?”

“These men would take her orders if she were.” James stated, holding his stomach.

“I say we call for them, Gwenneth call your men.” Saberrak huffed at the black robed woman.

“Of course she is, no one else could have gotten us into the academy and discerned all the information on that scroll.
Why
are you accusing her?” the elf stood defensively in front of the wizard, glaring at the men before her. “How would she know to meet us, what we had, she was written of in the letter that several men died for!? At a time like this, you men seek to question her, after all her help to keep us….”

“I am
not
the Lady Lazlette, High Wizard of the Arcanum Semanarium and ruler of Vallakazz. I am her daughter.” Gwenne held her chin up, wanting to keep dignity in the face of dishonesty and disappointment to these brave travelers.

“
Excellent
! Pinned down, hunted, people dying, and we are with the child of who we are
supposed
to be with. This morning gets more interesting by the moment.” The veteran knight peered around the left corner, watching city guard entering doors and raiding the floors of structures searching for mercenaries. The battles continued to spread. “Now what?” James also wondered if the city guard would be looking for them.

“You had better explain quickly, Lazlette, my axe has little patience for deception.” Saberrak glared at the young woman while smelling the air for enemies.

“If you take that scroll to my mother, a host of wizards, professors, bishops, and many opinions will arise. You will not know who to trust, what their motives are, or when someone will try and take it. I told you what I learned of it, no one here could decipher more, and if it stays here there will be more of
this
.” She pointed her finger toward the street still echoing the sounds of battle. “It needs to leave here, quietly, and get to Kalzarius of Harlaheim to the northeast, there is no safer place. If it is what I
think
it may be, the hunt will never end until we are locked in the tower of the most powerful wizard on Agara, or dead. You need to trust me.” Gwenneth felt confidant in her knowledge and decision, yet fearful of the danger that already surrounded them. She was not sure if they would trust her, despite that what she expressed was the truth, mostly the truth. The prodigal daughter felt strongly that divine magicks beyond the scope of any mortal vessel could have imbued that scroll with such power, power that she had no idea how to ascertain or explain to those not schooled long years in her art. Had Gwenneth also mentioned she saw visions of a chained man writing the scroll with his fingernails and blood in a dark cavern while she read the items past, they would probably believe her even less. Gwenneth was certain the this indeed was the scroll of Annar, an unknown relic created by a God lost for thousands of years and held his power. She did her best to keep secret her anxiousness to be a part of something important, to not let out her desires to leave Vallakazz and see some other part of the world, or at least the kingdom. Her contact with Kalzarius true, but her hidden motives of escaping her home had to be kept to herself.

“And the gate?” Saberrak was bending, but wanted more answers.

“They will stop me, stop
us,
and my mother will have the captain of the guard bring us back to the academy.”

“How did you plan to get out then, since the gate is closed and guarded?”

“Usually there are half those guards. I did not expect a battle early in the morning. These things never happen in Vallakazz much, trust me, I have lived here all my life minotaur.”

“Suggestions before I wade into the streets and
cut
my way out of your city?”

“We head down around this corner back to the west, take Hedge Road south to Carrados Street, and out the south gate instead.” Gwenneth hoped there were less guards there due to the attention pulled to the northeast end of the city.

“Shinayne, James, Azenairk?” Saberrak looked at his companions, and then back at Gwenneth.

“Agreed.” The elf glanced back, wanting to get out of the alley before they were followed and cornered.

“Sounds to me a bit risky, but God will protect me and guide me on the long road. I’m with you.” The priest hefted his warhammer onto his shoulder.

“Just get me to the caravan with the wine and out of this place.” James ran his fingers through his hair, and then picked up his round Chazzrynn shield, noting the tick marks carved in the back of it. Ninety eight carved scratches, thirteen years of killing ogre, and here he was in an alley with a priest, a minotaur, an elf, and a wizard. He looked to the bright winter sky, wondering if Alden had been playing him a cruel joke. Not hearing an answer, James smiled and strapped tight his shield.

“You lead Lazlette. Shinayne stay out to the left side, James bring up the rear. Azenairk and I will stay behind the wizard and watch the right and the rooftops. This time, we go through the gate, one way or the other.” Saberrak the gray sensed some tension, smelled some fear dripping in the sweat of his allies, almost all of them. The elf never seemed to have or show fear, which raised his curiosity and respect for the pointy eared maiden. He knew it was his time to take charge of the plans, and time to execute them and escape this trap of a city, fear or no fear.

LCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVX

Middir’s staff glowed with bright blue illumination, humming and trembling in his hands as he magically held one of the crimson orbs of vile energy in place five feet in front of him. His arcane experience had taught him that prolonged pressure on another wizards spell would not end it, but could break the concentration of the opposing arcane assailant. Aelaine had been doing the same while levitating outside the tower from the destroyed section of stone wall. The third sphere of molten energy had nearly finished its disintegration through the High Wizard’s screen of magical energy, the sizzling and popping noises mirrored with flashes of red and teal sparks as the enchantment began to break. Neither wizard dared stop their focus on the orbs, but neither could hold back a third. Something had to give, or the magic would be burning through their black robes and flesh very soon.

Dasius was covered in sweat from the top of his head running down his tan face, held his palms out, forcing arcane power through him and guiding his Tridian Orbs spell toward his enemies. His concentration solid, eyes focused, forcing the deadly summoned spheres through the efforts of the two before him. His thoughts strayed to what he would do after they were dead.
High Wizard Dasius sounded good
, but the name of the academy, and its directorate, would have to take on anew. The
Binnindriz Semanarium Arcanum
had a fine sound, smile creaking across his face as the orbs inched closer toward their victims. “Vallakazz needs a new lord and master, you both have held this academy too sheltered for far too long. My people have many plans for this city, and unfortunately,
you
are not part of it!”

The gray hair on Aelaine’s head
whooshed
over her face, the wind picking up briskly as something rushed by at great speed, missing her head by inches. A white snow vulture swooped into the side of the ninth floor, diving and turning past the blasted and scorched stone and veering left around the cascading and crumbling magical barrier. Diving with purpose and poise again to the right toward the hovering Caberran traitor, Hithins crashed into Dasius’ face, white feathers scattering around the wizard. Sparking shadowy tendrils from Aelaine’s previous enchantment reached upward, grabbing and consuming dropped feathers as they fell, smoldering them in electricity. The white vulture raked and pecked, squawking and drew blood from the traitorous professor’s bald head, and tore one ear to shreds as his talon caught the hoop earring.

Dasius yelled in anger, grabbed the bird that was scarring his face and threw it to the ground. “Damn avian demon!”

Aelaine did not hesitate, knowing the distraction gave her a moment to stop concentrating on the deadly orb, and waved her hand, “
Silmirithan
!” the energy maintaining the shadowy tendrils about to grab her loyal vulture disappeared, dismissed to nothingness.

Middir thrust his glowing staff forward, hurling one of the orbs now free of concentration of his enemy, toward Dasius. Another began swirling toward the corrupt wizard, driven by Aelaine’s guiding hand, and the third merely sat and pulsed with red molten energy as the arcane barrier vanished. The two orbs nearly reached their summoner, and at the last moment Dasius clapped his hands together, concentrated all his anger and energy. Too late, he failed in only bringing them together in front of him. The explosion of the two orbs making contact with another sent waves of thundering force thought the room, knocking both Middir and Dasius to the ground and burning the Caberran man’s face and hands. The third orb, guided by both Middir and Aelaine simultaneously, sped incredible, burning through the maple desk Dasius had fallen behind. Incinerating a hole through it, the crimson sphere hurled out the other side, and through the elbow of the wizard, his forearm falling to the ground as he screamed out in horror.

“It is over, Dasius! Stand down your staff! This need not go any further.” Aelaine glanced at Hithins, seeing him get to flight and take post on a shelf in the back of the room, shaking off the blast and his injuries. “Thank you Hithins, my brave friend.”

Dasius of Caberra stood, and fell down, his leg broken from the fall from the levitation when the orbs exploded. His right arm seared off at the elbow, he leaned on the staff with his left hand, and pulled himself to his feet. Blood ran down claw marks on his burned and blackened face with splinters of wood protruding, his ear ripped in two, the lobe hanging like dead flesh stuck to his neck with bloody soot. He faced both the High Wizard and the old professor, their arcane weapons pointed at him, waiting for him to make a gesture, a sound, or anything to give them reason to unleash their magicks upon him. “This will go much further, just not today!
Erelian dors reluthes
!” as he spoke the words, a bolt of white flame erupted from Aelaine’s palm, along with an arcing blue rip of lightning from the fingers of Middir, too late. The spells pierced through shadow only, impacting on the stone wall behind where the wizard was a moment earlier. The wall cracked and scorched, the foundation of the very chamber moaned with weakness and injury.

Aelaine Lazlette hovered back into the chamber, meeting old Middir in the middle of the destruction. “Perfect timing, but the traitor lives to haunt us and he erased the writings on the warlock mirror he was hiding.” Lady Lazlette pointed to the smooth glowing white and black marble slabs on the wall. “We have no idea who he was communicating with, who he is working for.”

“”Doubtful we will see him soon my lady, his injuries are severe. Gwenneth surely knows something, lest she would not have snuck in here and left so abruptly. She will provide the missing pieces we need when she arrives.” Middir looked down at the disembodied hand of Dasius to the scorch marks covering the back of the chamber.

“Hithins, has my daughter been held at the eastern gate?”