The Wizard's Council (11 page)

“Take one of my mages and have him check the town for enchanted buildings. Something tells me that we are up against somebody who knows a thing or two about
war. Try to find the Wizard’s Conclave as well, I’ve heard they have a vast amount of knowledge that could come in handy for us.”

*

“The Wizards will surely attempt to recruit us a second time,” Leon stood before his King.

“Under what circumstances would you recommend joining in this fight?” King Henry asked.

“I do not see it necessary that Sardinia get involved unless Cardinia also agrees. We also can’t be expected to intervene without getting something for ourselves. Perhaps we can strike a deal with the Wizards once they have been weakened.”

“Don’t you belong
to their Council?” One of the King’s other advisors asked.

“Of course, but all agreed that the individual Archwizards would have the
final say as to whether their Conclave gets involved or not. Some of the Conclaves are quite close, but others are a part of the Council due to formalities. Though I do not agree with him on many things, Rolin’s traditional views have come in hand on more than one occasion.”

“Enough about that old bat. We need to form a plan. Is there any event in which we join the Galimdorians?” The
King asked.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, not unless the pot was highly sweetened in our favor. They are nearly as strong as all the southern k
ingdoms combined. Joining forces with them would only be beneficial until they figured out that we are significantly weaker than them once Carmalia and Cardinia are out of the way. I’ve done a lot of thinking on the matter though. If we can strike an alliance with the Barbarians or the Holy Order, then we are free to deal with the Galimdorians as we please. These options may not seem so realistic, but we must examine all of our paths and choose accordingly.”

“What makes you the reside
nt expert on all of this?” The King’s advisor asked.

“I’ve been researching the different kingdoms for more than ten years now. I’m always on the lookout for new allies or enemies, it is prudent to be prepared. Speaking of which, I need to get to my quarters, I have people to contact.” Leon bowed low before leaving the room.

The Sardinian Conclave was a part of the main castle. It was difficult for outsiders to tell where the castle portion ended and where the Conclave began. Leon liked it that way, it made him feel that if he played his cards right he could take over the kingdom for himself. At the moment, he had smaller plans to deal with. Septimus of the Warlocks had contacted him regarding a group of mages who called themselves the Wielders. The Warlocks needed information on their new enemy and Leon was the one to see about information. His network of spies and informants rivaled that of the Knights of Doom. Leon opened the door to his chamber and sighed.

“Septimus, I trust that t
his is a good time?” Leon asked as an image of the Warlock appeared in his room.

“As good a time as any, what are the terms of your services?” Septimus appeared to be in the middle of something.

“You’ve got three choices. We can trade information for information, we can trade information for money, or we can trade information for magical knowledge.” Leon poured himself a cup of tea and took a seat at his table.

“I have a
fourth offer for you.” The image of Septimus flickered and disappeared, only to be replaced by Septimus himself only moments later.

“This is an outrage, get out of my quarters!” Leon yelled as he stood up from the chair.

“Give me the information and I will let you live.” Septimus raised his hand, and Leon was thrown back against the wall.

“Wait! Wait!” Leon yelled as he threw his hands over his head.

“Yes?” Septimus temporarily stopped the attacks.

“I’ll tell you what you want to know about the Wielders, nothing more. I have a business to run you know.”

“That is entirely acceptable to me.”

The Grand Crusader held up his hand to order his men to stop. He dismounted his horse and walked to the edge of the cliff. Before him lay the Valley of Telmac, home to the Witches of Telmac. There were many stories of how the valley came to be inhabited, the most common of them being a tale of desperation. According to legend, men and women from nearly every race had gotten fed up with their rulers constant and petty squabbles. They devised a plan to scour the continent in search of unspoiled land in which to settle. As the story goes, they found the valley of Telmac, a land rich in natural resources. It was unclear as to how, but they managed to live life unaffected by the outside world for hundreds of years. Many assumed that it was there that they met the Witches and, in a trade for their very souls, agreed to work with them for protection from the outside.

Traveling through the valley was the most direct route to the Spire of the Dead and the only real option for an army of any size. The Grand Crusader removed his helmet and gazed out over the valley. It was a land that had few blemishes. Even the large city in the middle of the valley seemed to blend in with its surroundings. Telmac, the jewel of the Witches holdings, was more of a giant castle than a city. The Witches were constantly adding more to the city as they saw fit. As no other cities were allowed in the valley, Telmac was expanded nearly every year to account for population growth. Even those who worked in the outposts spread throughout the valley still had homes in the main city. Gareth turned to face his men. It had been several years since he had led the army into battle, but that had not lowered the level of respect his men held in him.

“My brothers, many of you have heard about the Valley of Telmac and the evils within. We have put off purging the land because their filth does not spread out from the valley. Today we are presented with an opportunity to deal with them on our way to the Necromancers. Grand Cleric Bartholomew will be giving out blessings, I highly recommend that you accept them. We know not the nature of these Witches
, and we need any holy protection we can get.”

“Excellent speech, Gareth. This is a chance that we cannot afford to give up. The Witches of Telmac have gone unchecked for far long enough,” Grand Cleric Bartholomew said as he dipped his fingers into the water bowl that he was holding and sprinkled a few drops on Gareth.

Gareth watched as the men lined up before the Clerics. He turned his gaze to the Valley of Telmac.
This is your chance for redemption
, he thought. It had been more than two decades since the Holy Order had tried to rid the valley of its Witches. Gareth was one of several Captains who had accompanied the-then Grand Crusader. Each of them commanded one-thousand men into the fray. The Grand Crusader led the charge against the significantly larger army. At first, it seemed as though the better equipped Holy Order would be the victor. Gareth soon after had realized that his men wouldn’t be able to stand the sheer number of defenders and tried to convince the Grand Crusader that retreat was the best option. The move nearly got him branded as a coward and traitor, but in the end he turned out to be correct.

That day had haunted Gareth for years
, and now that he had a chance to set things right, he was willing to do whatever it would take. He started down into the valley.
So much death
, he thought as he remembered the aftermath of the battle. The Grand Crusader had been slain along with the majority of his forces. Gareth was one of less than a hundred men that survived. He found it hard to believe that such a majestic place could have a history of such bloodshed. The valley was nestled in between the Kargill Mountains in the west and the Spire of the Dead in the east. Neither the dwarves nor the Necromancers wanted to secure the valley. The north end of the valley bordered the Desert of Solitude and the vast ocean beyond it. To the south, between the afore mentioned mountain ranges, were two passes that led into the Old Forest. There were only a handful of recorded battles that had been fought in the valley, most of which were between the Holy Order and the Witches, but all of them were ruthless massacres.

Gareth ran his fingers through his horse’s mane. He mounted the horse as the last of his men had received their blessings. There was only one entrance to the valley from the west and the Witches had set up a small outpost there. Grand Cleric Bartholomew joined Gareth at the front of the army. Often times, the Grand Cleric and the Grand Crusader were more like religious and political figureheads of the Holy Order. Gareth and Bartholomew were some of the few throughout the order’s long history that actually played a role in furthering the cause of the Holy Order. Never before had both the Grand Cleric and the Grand Crusader taken such an active role in the Holy Order’s business.

“Here we are again, making up for our predecessors shortcomings. The Holy Order is only a shadow of its former glory. We may be one of the strongest forces in the land, but that is due to our hard work for the past decade. Our predecessors allowed the order to become weak. We must continue to undo that course of action,” Bartholomew spoke with a mixture of disgust and passion as he addressed Gareth.

“I have envisioned this very conquest since the time of our defeat under Cid’s leadership. What was then a rich land has only grown more fruitful. The Witches have stolen the land’s bounty for their own horrible desires. This land has great potential
, and we must see to it that it lives up to that potential. Not only will we remove the Witches’ taint from this land, we will also set up another stronghold dedicated to the Creator,” Gareth replied.

“Yours is a vision of greatness for our people. It is refreshing to see that you are willing to take the necessary steps to see to it that the Holy Order is stronger and able to crush the darkness with ease. Our people will continue to prosper under your leadership
, and as a result, the entire land will prosper with us.”

The Grand Crusader nodded, unsure of his companion’s intent. He had no time to discuss the matter. Seeing the outpost in the distance, Gareth raised his hand. His men slowed to his pace and drew their weapons.
If we can see them, then they can surely see us,
he thought as he continued down the path. There were two guards on the outer wall of the small fort. Gareth instantly recognized them as Cursed Ones. Born of the Witches, yet unable to perform magic, the Cursed Ones were trained to fight unto death to protect the Witches. A fight with the Cursed Ones only held two possible outcomes. It was only a matter of who died first.

“Has the Holy Order returned for more punishment after all these years?” The Cursed Leader called out.

“The Witches’ stench has festered in this valley for far too long. We will cleanse it by fire!” Bartholomew yelled raising his hands into the air. Massive fireballs began to rain down upon the wooden outpost, catching it on fire instantly. The Cursed Ones attempted a retaliatory assault, but were cut down by the archers of the Holy Order. Bartholomew smiled as the outpost collapsed in on itself from the fire damage. He relished the thought of bringing such destruction to the Witches and their brood. Gareth eyed his friend warily. It was a side of the Grand Cleric that he had not seen before. Killing was sometimes a necessity, but what they had just done was a massacre.
Let us hope that we do not lose our humanity in slaying these beasts
, Gareth thought as he surveyed his army.

*

“Why haven’t they reported back?” Ector asked, pacing back and forth.

“Is it possible that someone is interfering with their means of communication?” Thanos asked, somewhat worried by the smoke rising from the other side of the Telmac Valley.

“They are both accomplished Wizards, all they need is access to a Conclave. It isn’t too far of a stretch for them to be preoccupied by something though,” James said.

“What of Leon and Cormac? Neither of them is present either.” Melissa seemed annoyed.

“Please, one at a time. This is a crucial time for us. Carmalia remains besieged, and we need assistance, not questions,” Rolin stroked his beard as he spoke.

“Cormac made it to the d
warven halls, that much I am certain of. My scouts tell me that he may have taken to the front lines against the orcs. I will send an emissary to the dwarves to confirm this. As for Leon, the King often asks to be accompanied to many various meetings.” Ector did his best to defuse the tension.

“Thanos, are you able to muster an army and come to our assistance?” James asked.

“Unfortunately, no. The Witches of Telmac appear to be under attack, which can mean only one thing. Our friends at the Holy Order decided to purge the Witches on their way to visit the Necromancers. We will likely get caught in that fray.” Thanos held up his skeletal hand for all to see.

“Ector, please tell me you have better news,” James said, looking to the
elf.

“I’m afraid I do not. If we can get the
dwarves to agree to joint attacks on the orcs, then we might be able to defeat them in a month’s time. Although that does seem to be pushing it for you.”

“The Galimdorians do not seem to be as aggressive as we first expected. It is possible that they have been informed of Emily’s absence and are hesitant to continue the attack without using her as a scapegoat. We may be able to hold out for a month.” Rolin’s attempt at optimism refreshed all gathered, except Paul.

He was pacing back and forth trying to come up with a way to get them out of their predicament.
They just had to send off Emily,
he thought as he tried to ignore the Council. Emily was the only one who seemed to care about anything other than his magical prowess. His mind wandered from his predicament to Emily.
Why haven’t they contacted us?
Paul wondered. The concept of asking for assistance seemed useless to Paul. Cardinia and Sardinia were the only kingdoms that seemed to be able to help, but they were difficult to contact. Leon was nowhere to be found, and none of Melissa’s students had mastered long-distance communication spells.

“It seems we are going to need to rely on ourselves for this,” Paul said as he sat down with the other Wizards.

“I’m afraid Paul might be correct. If we can get a message to the other kingdoms, they may send reinforcements.” Rolin sighed as he accepted the fact that they were on their own.

“How can we get past the Galimdorian? Are we just going to fly over them?” James asked.

“I’ll take care of that, I just need a volunteer or two.” Rolin rose from his chair with a renewed determination.

“Paul and I can handle it.” James rose and nodded at Paul.

“The two of you need to come with me. Everyone else needs to keep on the watch for Emily or Janessa.” Rolin motioned for the two volunteers to follow him.

The three of them exited the war room and took off down the hall. Several Carmalian soldiers were milling about as they walked through the castle. Rolin whispered something to each one they passed as he led the other two Wizards into a small room that had been converted into a library. He began to rummage through the books until he came to a large tome at the bottom of a stack of books. Carefully and slowly, he brushed the dust off the cover before placing it on the desk. He began to flip through the pages.

“There it is!” He pointed at the page.

“Teleportation? Is that even possible?” James asked.

“I’ve heard of two instances in recent years, both included a group sending one or two people.”

“We have to try,” Paul said.

Rolin nodded and closed the book. He grabbed James and Paul by their shoulders and prodded them toward the door. The three headed up a flight of stairs up to the top of the keep. Rolin glanced over his shoulder several times as if annoyed by their speed. They came up through the trapdoor at the top of the stairs and looked out over the wall. Paul thought he could make out the silhouettes of the Galimdorians along the outer wall of the castle. The wind picked up as they gathered at the top of the keep to prepare the spell. James and Rolin began to argue about the spell, leaving Paul confused.

“We did this before at the c
onclave, why is this any different?” Paul asked.

“The
Conclaves are magically charged, making spells significantly easier to cast,” Rolin replied.

James nodded and took up his spot at the center of the keep’s roof. Paul took the spot near the center
, and they both waited for Rolin. The elderly Archwizard was pacing back and forth, muttering to himself while reading the book.
Seems like a simple spell
, Paul thought,
why all the fuss?
Rolin turned to James and the two stared at each other for a few minutes. There was no indication of it from Rolin, but the slight change in James’ expression made Paul wonder if they were communicating telepathically. He had heard stories of mages communicating thusly, but had never experienced it. James appeared to be getting rather annoyed with Rolin.

“Enough!” Rolin yelled, “Get into position and we’ll start the spell.”

Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on the location they had agreed upon earlier. Hearing movement to his left, he opened his eyes and saw James take a step away from him. He panicked and took a step toward James. His foot landed on something soft with a slight crunch. Darkness began to close around him as he stared at his foot, which was partially inside of one of the stones atop the keep. He took two more steps, now completely surrounded by darkness. The first step was soft and crunchy, but the second step wet. Light began to return, and he saw a beach off in the distance. His world began to spin as the beach got closer. Instinctively, he stepped backward. He tripped over a rock and landed on the sand of the beach.