Wizard, p.1
Wizard, page 1
part #1 of The Mage Saga Series
© 2021 by Kenneth H Warner II
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by Broken Candle Book Designs
Map by Zenta Brice
Prologue
Chapter One: Ambush
Chapter Two: Massacre
Chapter Three: The Messenger
Chapter Four: Conviction
Chapter Five: Prince Bichon
Chapter Six: The Artifact
Chapter Seven: Unwelcome Guest
Chapter Eight: The Battle of Oxcart
Chapter Nine: Proposal
Chapter Ten: Journey
Chapter Eleven: The Temple of Manesh
Chapter Twelve: Roses
Chapter Thirteen: Hunted
Chapter Fourteen: Sophia
Chapter Fifteen: Enigma
Chapter Sixteen: Fosland
Chapter Seventeen: The Darkhold
Chapter Eighteen: Ruse
Chapter Nineteen: Escape
Chapter Twenty: Fugitives
Chapter Twenty-one: Bracing for the Storm
Chapter Twenty-two: The Second Battle of Oxcart
Chapter Twenty-three: Defeat
Chapter Twenty-four: On the Run
Chapter Twenty-five: Invitation
Chapter Twenty-six: The Battle of Walberg
Chapter Twenty-seven: A Parting of the Ways
Epilogue
WIZARD
By Ken Warner
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Prologue
Byron heard the trumpets and sat up straight, a jolt of fear wracking his body. Had he imagined that? No, now there were drumbeats, too.
He got to his feet, grabbed his staff, and ran into the corridor. Reaching the tower, he hurried up the steps, emerging on the roof. This location afforded him the best view of the land surrounding the castle. And there could be no mistaking what he saw below: an entire army marching toward them. Wearing Fosland’s uniforms and flying its flag. Then he spotted the rider leading the troops and blanched. He’d recognize that witch’s flaming red hair anywhere.
Byron had enjoyed his life as a court mage. Stanbridge was a small princedom, and its location held no strategic value; the prince was a peaceful man with no tyrannical impulses. But Byron knew that the quiet life he loved so much had just reached its end. Stanbridge had no standing army.
As one of the prince’s top advisers, it was his solemn duty to evacuate the royal family from the castle in the face of imminent death. But he had a deeper responsibility to fulfill first—to the university and ultimately to the entire continent. Fosland didn’t share a border with Stanbridge. So there was only one reason High Prince Henry would send an army here.
Byron had begged his prince to send the artifact to the university to be destroyed many times over the years, starting the day he’d been assigned here and learned of the object’s existence. But the prince refused. Always. The artifact was a family heirloom, passed down for generations, and he wouldn’t be the one to surrender it.
Thankfully, the prince had never asked Byron to use it. Not that the wizard would have had the first clue what to do with the thing. And luckily, the prince’s ancestors and their mages had seen fit to hide it out of plain sight. But Byron was no fool; that was Nineve out there. It was only a matter of time before the witch would find the thing and take it to Henry.
There was only one thing Byron could do. He had to send a messenger to the university to warn the governors. Hopefully, they could dispatch someone to retrieve the artifact before it was too late.
Chapter One: Ambush
Mira gazed down the road, back the way they’d come. It was nighttime, the twin crescent moons providing the only light. There was movement, but it was still far off, and she couldn’t tell for sure who or what it was. But it sounded like a group of people on horseback moving quickly toward them. Her mount snorted nervously.
“We should get off the road and let them pass, my lady,” said Oscar. He was one of the three soldiers her father had sent with her on this journey. The other two stood by him, staring into the distance, their expressions grim.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, would you please stop addressing me that way?”
Oscar had been a member of her father’s guard for a couple of years now, but he’d been her closest friend for far longer than that.
“I’m afraid not, my lady,” he replied with a grin. “We must observe protocol when we’re on duty.”
Heaving a sigh, she followed the men toward the trees. They positioned their horses to keep themselves between her and the road and drew their swords. Mira grasped her wand but kept it concealed beneath her cloak. Within minutes, she could see that about a dozen riders were approaching. As they came closer, she realized they were soldiers, but their colors and sigil were not those of the local princedom.
“Identify yourselves,” one of the men demanded, separating from the others as they came to a halt. He took in her guards’ weapons but did not draw his own.
“You first,” said Oscar, his tone calm but confident. “You display Fosland’s banner, but this is Oxcart unless our map is out of date.”
The soldier grasped the handle of his sword but still didn’t draw it. “I don’t recognize your uniforms. You must be from somewhere faraway—what brings you to this area?”
“We are from Blacksand, in the northwest of Dorshire, where we serve the Lord Grisham of Graystone. Our business here is our own, but I assure you it doesn’t concern you.”
The soldier locked eyes with Mira for a moment and nodded. “We are seeking an outlaw who escaped from us in Stanbridge. His trail disappeared in Oxcart Town, but witnesses there told us they saw him fleeing this way up the road. Have you seen him?”
“We left the town ourselves just before sunset,” Oscar told him. “But you are the first people we have encountered since then. I’m sorry we can’t help you.”
The soldier turned to look back at his comrades, and Mira gasped, noticing their wizard for the first time. The man was a giant mass of flesh with wild hair and a graying beard that hung to his waist. His staff looked more like a tree trunk than the slender rods most mages favored. For a moment, Mira felt a tingle down her spine and guessed that he must have cast some sort of spell, but the sensation stopped, and nothing else happened. He nodded, the motion barely perceptible, and turned to speak with one of the others.
“Very well,” the soldier said to Oscar. “Keep an eye out for him; our prince has offered a reward for his safe return. But beware—he’s sneaky and dangerous.” He guided his horse back to the rest of the group, and they resumed their course to the north.
“Let’s slacken our pace,” Oscar suggested as they returned to the road. “I do not wish to encounter them again—Fosland’s forces do not belong in Oxcart or Stanbridge. Their story about seeking an outlaw does not ring true.”
“No, it certainly doesn’t,” Mira agreed. “Part of me feels like we should go back and warn the prince of their intrusion, but I think I’d prefer to keep going.”
They’d been on the road for many weeks now, and based on the information her father’s envoy had given them, they’d expected to find the wayfarers camped right outside of the town. But upon their arrival, a couple of locals told them that the troupe had moved on earlier that same day. Mira still hoped to catch up to them that night. The moons provided enough light for them to travel.
“Well, they didn’t seem too interested in us,” said Harry, one of the other guards.
“And a good thing that is—their mage had a sinister look about him,” added Thomas, the third guard.
“An understatement,” Mira told him. “That was Gunthar.”
“I thought so,” said Oscar, his expression dark. “But that’s the first time I’ve seen him. Matches his description well enough.”
“Never heard of him,” said Harry. “Who is he?”
“One of High Prince Henry’s mages,” Oscar replied. “He’s got a nasty reputation, that one.”
“High Prince Henry?” asked Thomas. “What makes him a high prince?”
“He’s annexed two neighboring princedoms,” Oscar explained. “That’s the title he’s taken as a way of placing himself above the other princes. Rumor has it he’s planning on conquering the rest of Maeda and restoring the old kingdom.”
“Which could explain his presence here and in Stanbridge,” Mira noted. “Perhaps the rumors are true. Although it would take more than twelve men to sack a princedom.”
“And why is Gunthar so bad?” asked Harry. “He looked like a fat slob to me.”
Thomas sniggered. “Aye, he did—I think I spotted a bit of mutton in his beard.”
“He’s a fat slob who was expelled from the university and arrested for raping and murdering three young witches,” said Mira.
“He’s Henry’s attack dog,” Oscar added. “Sends him in whenever he needs someone killed. Not much for brains, I’m told, but Henry doesn’t pay him to think.”
“I fear he did something when their soldier was talking to us,” said Mira. “Some sort of magic—I could feel it, but I couldn’t identify the spell.”
“Let’s hope he didn’t realize that you’re a mage,” Oscar replied. “Henry’s always looking to add to his stable.”
Mira knew he was right and shivered slightly. The thought of Henry capturing her was terrifying; every holding on the continent had heard of him and the tyranny he inflicted upon his people. Most princes had two or three mages on staff, but Henry had assembled a small army of them. The university had issued an alert that he was abducting wizards and witches who crossed his lands. Mira had been glad that there would be no reason to enter his territory on this journey. But now, this encounter had her worried. She hoped they would reach their destination before running into the Foslanders again.
They continued for several minutes in silence. Mira’s thoughts returned to the wayfarers and her imminent reunion with the troupe. In particular, she thought of Khaldun, and her heart skipped a beat. She’d dreamed about seeing him again since the day she left for her father’s holding. But after so many years, she wondered if he’d even remember her. They were older, and he was certain to have lost interest in her long ago, especially in light of the wayfarer lifestyle. The promises they’d made seemed silly now—borne of the childish crushes they’d had for each other. Mira had been only twelve then, and Khaldun just a few months older.
Yet the butterflies in Mira’s stomach persisted. She’d kept her feelings for Khaldun locked away in her heart, nurturing her hope that one day they’d meet again. Much to her father’s chagrin, she’d brushed aside the flirtations of more appropriate and more local suitors. He’d hoped to arrange a mutually advantageous marriage for her to some other lord’s heir, but Mira had refused to play along. The highborn life felt like a prison to her, and she yearned for the freedom of the wayfarers.
Suddenly Thomas made a gurgling sound, bringing his hands to his throat. Mira realized with a start that he had an arrow protruding from his neck. Blood was gushing out of the wound.
“Oscar!” Mira shouted as Thomas fell off his horse; the other two reined in their mounts.
But at that moment, five men stepped out of the trees—the mage, Gunthar, and four Foslander soldiers. One had an arrow nocked in his bow, pointing it at Harry; the others had their swords drawn. Oscar drew his sword as Mira dismounted and moved toward Thomas.
“Not another step,” Gunthar ordered, his voice gravelly. He held his staff in front of him; Mira could feel the power of his spell wash over her. This time, she recognized it, but still, it did nothing. “As I suspected,” he muttered.
“Our prince will hear of this outrage!” Oscar shouted, moving his mount to shield Mira from the archer. “Let us go if you wish to live!” Mira knew this was an empty threat but appreciated the effort.
Gunthar chuckled. “Where is it you’re from again? Blackshit? Crapsand? Practically the other side of the world.”
Another soldier emerged from the trees before Oscar could reply. “Sir, we’ve found the messenger.”
“About time,” Gunthar muttered. “You four, bind the girl. She’s coming with us. Make sure you take her wand. Kill the boys.”
Gunthar followed the new arrival into the forest. The archer shot Harry through the eye; his corpse toppled off his mount.
“No!” shouted Oscar. Then, urging his horse into motion, he swung his sword and decapitated the archer. But as the other three soldiers advanced on him, he took off down the road, leaving Mira with the men.
“Oscar!” she screamed, her heart hammering in her chest. But it was no use; he was gone. What the hell was he doing? Never did she think he’d abandon her like this. What was she supposed to do now? She thought about jumping back onto her horse and galloping off in the other direction, but one of the soldiers grabbed the dead man’s bow and pointed an arrow at her.
“Not so fast, little lady,” he said. Mira realized he was missing his front teeth. “You stay right there.”
“What about the boy?” one of the other soldiers demanded.
“We’ll get him later,” the toothless man said. “It’s this one Gunthar wants.”
Mira grasped her wand inside her cloak. But the instrument was useless to her in this situation.
“Hand it over,” the toothless soldier ordered. “No funny business, or I’ll put this arrow in ya.”
“Gunthar wants me alive.”
“Oh, you’ll live,” he said with a leer. “But it’s gonna be hard to think about your spells with this thing stickin’ outta your leg, I reckon.”
Mira pulled out her wand, holding it out to one of the soldiers. He snatched it from her and handed it to the toothless one while the remaining two pulled out some twine. One tied her wrists together while the other took care of her ankles. The toothless one kept the arrow on her the whole time. Once they’d finished binding her, they removed the pack from one of the horses, tossing it into the trees, and hoisted Mira over the animal’s back in its place. Toothless climbed into the saddle in front of her, the other two mounted the remaining horses, and they headed up the road.
“Where are you taking me?” Mira demanded.
“Fosland eventually,” Toothless replied. “But Gunthar likes to play with the pretty ones for a while before bringing them to His Highness.” He giggled to himself.
Mira felt like she might vomit. She took a few deep breaths, trying to stave off a panic attack. Oscar had left her for dead; it was up to her to get out of this. She tried wriggling her hands free, but the twine was too tight; the only thing she accomplished was chafing her wrists against it.
Though she was pretty sure she could bend and twist her way off the horse, she didn’t see what good it would do. She’d probably hurt herself landing on the packed dirt of the road, and then they’d just throw her back on the horse again. If they passed any other people, she could scream for help, but it was unlikely any locals would come to her aid against three armed soldiers. But maybe they’d run to the local lord to report the situation, and then he could send members of his guard to help.
Of course, it was the middle of the night, so they weren’t likely to encounter many other people…
Suddenly, one of the soldiers screamed in pain and fell off his horse. When he hit the ground, Mira could see that he was bleeding from the head; a large, bloody rock had landed in the dirt next to him.
What the hell?
But a moment later, she spotted Oscar jumping out of a nearby tree. He charged the other soldier, driving his sword through his back. The man spewed blood from his mouth for a moment before toppling to the ground.
“Surrender!” Oscar shouted, brandishing his blade at the toothless soldier. “Leave the girl, and I’ll let you go free!”
“Fuck yourself!” Toothless yelled, kicking his mount into a gallop. They flew down the road, Mira bouncing painfully on the animal’s back; she felt sure she would fall off. The soldier glanced back and said, “Shit.”
Mira looked behind them and saw that Oscar had mounted one of the other horses and was charging after them. She decided now was the time to act. Shifting her weight and twisting, she kicked out hard with both legs. It worked—she’d launched herself right off the horse. She hit the ground hard, feet first, before pitching over sideways and rolling several times in the dirt. Her right hip and shoulder hurt from the impact, but she didn’t think she’d broken anything. Sitting up, she spotted the toothless soldier reining in the horse and turning around. Oscar pulled up next to her, jumping off his mount.
“My lady, are you hurt?” he asked.
“I’m fine—but look out!”
Toothless was charging toward them now, raising his sword for a mighty swing. Mira managed to roll herself away from the road. Looking back, she saw Oscar dart the other way, opposite the toothless soldier’s sword hand. As the man flew past, Oscar stabbed him in the side. The toothless man screamed. His horse slowed to a trot, then stopped as Toothless fell from its back. Oscar ran toward him. The toothless man got to his feet, brandishing his sword in front of him. He swung at Oscar when he approached, but Oscar sidestepped, slicing the back of the man’s knee on the way by. He fell to the dirt, dropping his sword and screaming again. Oscar moved in for the kill.
“You said you’d let me live if I freed the girl!”
“You didn’t free me!” Mira shouted. “I jumped!”
Oscar stabbed the man in the chest. Mira heard his screams falter as Oscar ran over to her. He cut her bonds and helped her to her feet.
“We need to go, my lady. Can you ride?”
