The Wizard's Council (21 page)

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave,” She said in a raspy voice.

“Why do you care?” He asked.

“You know something about the others. They talked to you, we don’t know what about though. We’ll break you if we have to.”

Her words puzzled him.
Could they have been speaking the truth?
he asked himself as he looked closer at the witch. Her face was wrinkled beyond her years, and her skin was dried to the point of looking rather coarse. He gritted his teeth and began to stand up again. As she did before, the witch lunged forward. This time the Grand Crusader was ready for her. He dodged to his side and used her momentum to send her crashing into the wall on the other side of the bed. She rolled off the bed and staggered to her feet. His left fist shot out and caught her just above the chin. He stepped forward, pressing the attack with a jab from his right hand. The final stroke was an elbow to the temple with his left. He could hear footsteps on the other side of the door as she crumpled to the floor. There was nothing in the room for him to hide behind, so he took up a spot next to the door.

The door swung open in an outward fashion, giving Gareth nothing to hide behind. He grabbed at the first thing he saw come through the door. His hands clasped onto the shoulders of an older looking witch. The second witch was entering the room as he was trying to wrestle the first to the floor. She slammed her staff into his back, causing pain to course through his entire body. He let out a gasp of pain as he scrambled to get away from the staff. The other witch composed herself
, and they both closed in on him with their staffs out in front of them. He grunted as he grabbed hold of the staffs, one in each hand. Pain shot through his body as he slowly pushed them toward one another. The witches realized too late what he was attempting to do. What little fight they were able to muster wasn’t enough. The two staffs touched and each of the witches fell backward as if hit by a large shockwave.

“Quickly, come with us,” A voice from the other side of the room said.

Gareth looked up to see the elderly witch that had approached him earlier. She was standing next to a younger witch who, unlike the others that he had incapacitated, was quite attractive. He nodded and smiled at both of them as he jogged over to join them. The younger witch handed him his sword as the elder crept out into the hall outside the cell. Gareth unsheathed his sword and strode out into the hall. He knew that the other two would want to take the lead, but he didn’t fully trust them. The older witch motioned for him to take the lead down the hall. Several Cursed Ones were exiting from nearby rooms to investigate the disturbance. Gareth cut down two of them before they even knew what was coming. Another group of them began fighting among themselves when they saw that the Grand Crusader was being led by the elderly witch. Gareth fought and killed three more Cursed Ones before they came to an exit.

“Where do we go from here?” He asked as they exited the building and came to an open expanse.

“Leniya will lead you the rest of the way. I need to ensure as many of my people get out alive as I can manage,” The elderly witch replied.

“This way, we must move quickly,” Leniya said as she took the lead.

*

Leon slammed his fist down on the desk. The news had been the worst he had heard in some time.
How can they have learned about this?
he asked himself as he paced back and forth in his chambers. He stopped at his desk and sat down. The letter sitting on his desk sparked and began to flame as he glared at it. His hands shook as he reached out for a blank piece of parchment. He placed it down in front of him and grabbed the nearest quill. Leon took a deep breath to relax before he started writing. His quill moved furiously as he penned his response to the letter from the King of Cardinia. He addressed the issue that they raised of him trying to take over the kingdom. It was against his better judgment to admit to the accusation outright, so he formulated a story of how the King of Sardinia was trying to frame him for treason.

“That should do the trick,” he said as he folded the letter.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He stood up and put the letter into a small envelope. The door opened, and several of his trusted advisors entered the room.  Leon motioned for them to take a seat at the table. He waited patiently as they all got into their places before placing the letter on the table. His chair slid out from the table as he pulled his hand backward. The others began to whisper to each other as he took his seat. They could tell that he was noticeably annoyed about something. He paused for a moment as he scanned the table of advisors.
This is the best I’ve got?
he asked himself as he shook his head. He took in a deep breath as he resigned to the fact that he would have to make do with the resources he had available. The others quickly gave him their attention as he cleared his throat.

“Gentlemen, as some of you already know, word has gotten out about my recent activities. Normally I would not let this bother me. However, the Wizards have decided that they want answers. It may seem as though I am afraid of my fellow Wizards, but I am not. I can assure you of that, but my plan requires a certain amount of finesse. This is not something I can accomplish with Archwizards meddling in my affairs!” Leon slammed his fist onto the letter.

“We must force the King to make a statement about this,” One of his advisors said.

“How does one force a stubborn
King to do such a thing?” Leon asked, clenching his fists.

“There are ways that we have yet to consider,” Albrecht said.

“Why have I not heard of these ways? Am I not the one in charge here?” Leon’s level of annoyance was growing.

“You have not heard of these ways because Owyn forbade them a long time ago. With Owyn dead and Rolin nowhere to be found, I have a new sense of confidence whe
n speaking on the matter,” Albrecht replied.

“Well, go on then.”

“Many many years ago, when Rolin and I were just young lads, we stumbled upon a spellbook. It was in the Wizard’s Library on the Isle of Magic. Supreme Wizard Kadegar informed us that it was a book on what was then known as tainted magic, the kind of magic that eats at the very user’s soul. Rolin, being the proper Wizard, immediately wanted to put it back. I convinced Kadegar that I wanted to examine it for academic purposes. It was written in a language that I could not understand, but I have since learned that language. If we could get our hands on the book, the power within would be ours for the taking!”

“That is quite thrilling, Albrecht. It really is, but where might we find this book?”

The answer to Leon’s question was interrupted by a knock at the door. Leon ordered the newcomer to enter the room.  It was one of the apprentices, and he was looking rather worried. Albrecht and the others offered him a seat at the table. He began by spouting out a story on how he was training in the yard when he heard some of the king’s men discussing a stranger that had recently arrived in town. The story continued to play at Leon’s nerves as the teller was far from getting his point across. Those gathered could see their leader getting closer to his breaking point and encouraged the man to speed up his story. Leon stood and clenched his fists before addressing the man.

“Get a hold of yourself!” He yelled as he slammed his fists on the table.

“Yes, of course, sir,” The man replied, his voice shaking.

“Well, what is it that you want to tell us?” Leon asked.

“I overheard the guards talking about a peculiar man who was asking about you and the king. He specifically asked whether the two of you argued often. I asked the guard for a description, but neither of them seemed to remember exactly what he looked like.”

“So the old man seeks to question my authority. If it is a fight he wants, it is a fight he will get!” Leon grabbed his staff and slammed it against the table, causing the wood to break asunder.

Thanos took a deep breath as he led his men toward the Necromancer’s staging area. The Necromancers had already gathered the brunt of their army and were waiting for the Holy Order to attack. Thanos could see the Holy Order’s army in the distance. It looked like a giant blob of shiny metal that bobbed back and forth along the countryside. The path they had taken through the Telmac Valley was easily traceable. They left a swath of destruction in their wake.
Death and destruction in the name of good
, the Archwizard thought as he shook his head in disgust. He could see the worried looks that some of the younger Wizards were giving to each other and ordered his men to stop. They had trouble keeping still, but that didn’t bother Thanos.

“I know that some of you are wondering why we are helping the Necromancers. The answer is simple, the Holy Order sees no difference between us and them. They see all death magic practitioners as an abomination. However, today I give each and every one of you a simple choice. You can stay with us and possibly die or you ca
n leave, find another Wizard’s Conclave, and give up death magic. The choice is entirely up you. I will hold nothing against you if you choose to leave,” Thanos paused to let the others make their choice.

He glanced back over his shoulder at the Holy Order’s armor. They were slowly winding their way up the hills toward the Spire of the Dead.
Let them come
, he thought. Their numbers were much greater than those of the Necromancers, but Thanos was convinced that his skeletal trolls and the reanimated dragon would tip the scales in their favor. He had chosen not to mention the dragon to the others so as not to influence their decision. While he would bear no grudge against those who left, he only wanted the most loyal and confident Wizards to stay. He turned back to face his men and found that only three had elected to leave. They were saying their good-byes to the others. Each one approached him cautiously and offered a hand, which he shook vigorously. Once the three were on their way out, Thanos addressed the others again.

“Make no mistake, we are not here for the Necromancers. They have treated us fairly over the years, but not well enough to throw our lot in with them. The coming battle is a strike against the overzealous Holy Order. We must send them the message that we are not to be trifled with. They need to know that we will not cave to their demands. We will rise out of this a stronger group,” The Wizards let out a cheer as their leader finished his speech.

Thanos led his men down to where the Necromancers had gathered. Fear gripped him as he glanced out at the vastness of the Holy Order’s army. He pushed away the fear and continued several feet past the others. His reanimated trolls were lurking in the forests below, waiting to ambush the unsuspecting crusaders. A smile crept onto his face as he heard some of the army below crying out in confusion. The trolls were too few to make a significant impact, but Thanos hoped that they would weaken, confuse, and frighten the enemy. His Necromancer allies looked at him with raised eyebrows. He shrugged and then turned back toward the approaching army. The trolls had managed to slow down the side of the army, but the main force in the front was still advancing into the mountains at a heightened pace.

The death magic expert took a deep breath as he dropped down onto one knee. He dragged his right hand along the dirt, picking up a small bit of it before making a fist and slamming it into the ground. Small cracks formed along the ground where he hit. They began to branch out and expand toward the army far below. The cracks expanded into gaping holes as they closed in on the Holy Order’s army. Many of the troops, terrified of the ground threatening to swallow them whole, rushed back from the oncoming danger. Over a dozen of the attackers fell to their doom as the ground opened quicker than they could manage to escape. Thanos let out a chuckle and slammed his hands together, causing the giant cracks to close. He turned toward the Necromancers and raised his hands in the air in triumph.

“You fool, you’ve given up the element of surprise!” One of the Necromancers yelled.

“We had no element of surprise, but now we have fear on our side,” Thanos closed his right fist as he spoke.

“That is quite enough, Thanos. The Necromancers are in charge here, not the Wizards,” Another Necromancer said.

Thanos shook his head and clenched his fist harder. His anger got the better of him as he opened his right hand and slammed it against the ground. The resulting shockwave rocketed out toward the two Necromancers that had scolded him. As they both began to fall backward, the Wizard closed his hand around the dirt. He pulled his hand back and then thrust it toward the two. The dirt flew out of his hand as he opened it once more. It pelted the two Necromancers as they landed. Both of them began laughing at what they thought was a feeble attack from the Wizard. Thanos flicked his wrist in a circular motion, causing the dirt to begin to swirl around his adversaries. Their smiles quickly vanished as the dirt began to tear at their skin. Their screamed echoed in Thanos’ head as he turned and thrust both his hands forward while yelling. The ground in front of him erupted and shot out toward the Holy Order’s army as if it were fired out of a cannon.

The force of the spell knocked a handful of the Holy Order’s soldiers down. It momentarily stopped their forward progress, but Grand Cleric Bartholomew was set on destroying the Necromancers and ordered his men to march. Upon seeing this, the Necromancers were infuriated with Thanos. Several of them stepped forward to stop him, but were intercepted by the small contingent of Wizard’s under Thanos’ command. The Archwizard, knowing full well that neither group could survive the coming battle alone, called out for them to stop. His words went unheeded as the Necromancers unleashed their first salvo of spells. The Wizards sent back their own volley of spells. Thanos looked on in horror as the two groups continued to decimate each other with round after round of spells. The Necromancers pressed their attack, letting their skeletons close in on the Wizards while they rained down spells from the skies. In a valiant attempt, the Wizards pushed through the horde of skeletons and unleashed one last assault on the Necromancers. It ultimately did nothing to change the outcome of the short skirmish and the Necromancers decimated every last Wizard.

The Archwizard’s first thought was to retaliate, but the impending doom of the Holy Order’s attack caused him to change his mind. He turned to see the Holy Order troops nearly halfway up the mountain.
What trickery is this?
he wondered as he called for the Necromancers to join him. They rushed forward and almost immediately began to argue about their next course of action, all but ignoring the oncoming army. Thanos appeared to be the only one who noticed the Holy Order scaling the mountain at a much faster pace than seemed humanly possible. He used his magic to create a geyser of dirt to downpour on the advancing troops, but it did little to slow them. They descended upon the bickering Necromancers and began cutting them down. The magic users and their small reanimated army attempted to fight back, but they were quickly overwhelmed. Thanos retreated back behind the Necromancers and their skeletons, preparing to take the Holy Order on his own terms. He used his magic to create several different types of golems and then waited for the Holy Order to attack.

The Holy Order paused and examined their opponent. Bartholomew and his men were highly confused as to why Thanos was staying instead of running. It made a good portion of the army ill at ease. They began to whisper to each other about how he should be left alone. The Archwizard took the time to create even more golems, each one as powerful as the next. He had never pushed his magic to this limit, but there were no signs that it would be too much. Grand Cleric Bartholomew ordered his men to attack. Unlike the Necromancers and their skeletons, Thanos’ golems fought in perfect unison. When one golem appeared to be faltering, another would rush to assist. Though only fifteen in number, the golems were effectively holding the Holy Order’s army back. Bartholomew began yelling something frantically, but Thanos was unable to catch what he was saying over the sounds of the battle. He watched and waited as the enemy made a surge toward the golems. Their tactics had changed from before. Instead of attacking the constructs, they were pushing past them and trying to get to Thanos. Two soldiers were able to make it past the golems and attack the Archwizard. He hit the first with a fireball, but the second was able to land a blow with his
war hammer. The hammer connected with Thanos’ cheek and knocked him onto the floor. He tried to climb to his feet, but his opponent came forward and used the shaft of his war hammer to hit Thanos in the forehead, knocking him unconscious.

*

Paul unfurled the sail on the boat that Janessa had lent them. It was a small boat that only required one person to pilot, however, that person needed to be a Wizard to effectively sail on open waters. Emily had taken the helm for the beginning part of the journey, but Paul had insisted that he should learn how to maneuver such a boat.
Why is he so insistent on knowing this?
she wondered as she watched him adjust the sail again. Not that it was against Paul’s character to learn things, but it seemed to Emily that they had much more pressing matters to attend to. Lately, she had often found herself wondering about the man. As if by fate, they had been thrown together with a singular purpose. Now things seemed to be changing. Paul’s need for revenge was driving him, while Emily’s desire for revenge was waning. It had put a strain on what she had thought was going to be a close relationship. She was left to wonder if recent events had clouded her judgment. Rolin had tried to warn her when she was younger, but she refused to listen. When she was young, she never thought of her father as a king, nor did she consider him at any more danger than those whom he ruled.

“What if things had been different?” She asked.

“I’m not sure I understand the question,” Paul replied.

“What if my father had never attacked the Wizards?”

“I suppose that we would have never met, and this war would never have been started. The world would be much closer to what you are used to. You were made for more peaceful times, trained to protect. I am not like you, my specialty is making war. Destruction, if you will. That is always where we will differ.”

“Are we really that different? You seek revenge, but it isn’t what makes you who you are. You are as much a protector as Rolin or James.”

Paul didn’t reply to her comment, he just stared off at the island on the horizon. He had never seen it before, be he instantly knew it was the Isle of Magic. There was a certain feel to the island, even from this distance. It was similar to how he felt at the Conclaves, but significantly more powerful. The magic was so powerful that it was almost as if he could see it swirling around the large castle. Everything about the island gave off the impression of power. Though there was nothing to compare it to, the castle looked absolutely massive. It covered more than ninety percent of the island and Paul could only estimate its height. Emily had heard the stories of the island and knew that the castle towered more than two hundred feet in the air. She also knew that there were mages that resided on the island whose ages were thought to be more than a thousand years. It was a place so strong in magic that Emily felt as though she could read those around her. Paul’s intentions and desires become aware to her without him having said a word.

“It is truly magnificent,” He said, completely in awe of the castle.

“You absolutely will not leave me here, Paul!” Emily yelled as she stepped forward to take control of the ship.

“What? How did you?” Paul asked, completely confused.

“The island, it amplifies my magic and allows me to do things I never thought possible.”

“I don’t have a choice, Emily. This is the place for you. You are the perfect magician. You embody control and wisdom. I am the opposite of that. You are an instrument to keep peace, I am a weapon to wage war. That has always been my potential. Rolin and James may not have said it to me, but I could see what they were thinking. I could tell what the entire council needed from me. It is who I am, this is what I am meant to do. Without me, there will be no peace for you to keep.”

“What about after the war? What will you do when all of it is over?” Emily asked.

“That remains to be seen. I’ve been a survivor all these years due to one thing and one thing only. My need for revenge has driven me to fight harder and smarter. Each loss became a lesson on how not to approach things in the future. We shall see if my adaptability carries over into peace. I cannot guarantee my survival. I can, however, guarantee that your father will be avenged.”

Emily nodded, she knew better than to try to convince Paul otherwise. It pained her to see him throw away his life as he wanted to, but there was nothing she could do to stop him. Her hope for Paul rested with Rolin and James. They were the link between Paul and Emily. Each of them could operate at full capacity in war and in peace. She gathered her belongings and smiled at Paul. He nodded back at her with a grave look on his face. The docking attendants began to tie the boat down, but Paul waved them off. Emily stepped off the boat and looked back at Paul. He was already busy turning the boat around. She waved to him, and he nodded back to her.
Always afraid of his own emotions,
she thought as she watched Paul and his boat slowly sail away. As the figure disappeared on the horizon, Emily became aware of the footsteps behind her. She turned to find several mages had come to greet her.