Ascendant (53 page)

And then the
third arrow struck, struck with a solid thunking sound, piercing the wizard's
robes, slicing into and through the wizard until even the feathers were half
buried in the man's chest. The man half rose up in utter shock, turning toward
the other enemy wizard, who was equally shocked, shock so deeply as to be
beyond belief. The stricken man's hand released his staff to fall toward the
ground, and touched the back end of the now blood-soaked arrow which protruded
from his chest. His fingertips had no more than brushed the arrow, when he was
incinerated by a searingly bright blue fireball.

Paedris had
not been sitting idly by as Koren fought. Taking advantage of the enemy
wizard's surprise and weakness, and exposure from rising up from behind the
stone, the court wizard of Tarador had flung a fireball at the enemy who had
besieged him for countless hours.

"Koren!"
Paedris shouted, his voice hoarse from weakness and thirst. "You idiot!
Get out of here!"

"No! I
came to rescue you!" Koren shouted, as he slapped Thunderbolt on the rump,
and the horse bolted away, startled.

Paedris' heart
sank, and he felt icy cold with fear. The enemy had set a trap for him, a trap
to kill or capture Tarador's court wizard. Now, because a young man was far
more brave than sensible, the enemy might unknowingly destroy Tarador's true
greatest weapon, or worse, capture Koren! The remaining enemy wizard could not
have missed the astonishing fact that the boy who suddenly appeared in their
midst must be a wizard; no one else could possibly have killed a mage of Acedor
with a mere arrow. No one but a wizard could have set three arrows in flight
before the first was halfway to its target. How could Koren have been so
stupid? Why could he not follow orders, or had the two soldiers Paedris
instructed to keep Koren safe failed in their duty? All these thoughts raced
through Paedris' mind in a flash, and then there was no time for thought,
because the enemy struck back, and time slowed again.

As Koren
reached back for another arrow, it was his turn to be stricken with fear. The
last enemy wizard had seen an opportunity in the brief second while Koren and
Paedris had shouted to each other. An opportunity for a desperate attack; an
angry red fireball was already streaking through the air toward Koren.

Koren's right
hand, which had been reaching back for an arrow, turned to flash in front of
his face, palm outward in an instinctive, and futile, last gesture of the
doomed. Out of the corner of his eye, Koren could see Paedris' mouth open in
terror as the old wizard shouted "Nooooooooooo!" and then Koren
cringed, closed his eyes and prepared to die. The fireball struck, enveloping
Koren in searing heat-

-and washed
over and around him. The fireball
flowed
around Koren like he was a rock
and the ball of fire was a fast-flowing stream. It parted around him, rejoining
into a single ball of flame behind him, and slammed into the stone wall. Stone
chips exploded outward in a violent explosion and Koren ducked, flinging
himself to the ground. Sharp shards of stone pelted him, inflicting numerous
small cuts through his clothing.

If the enemy
wizard has been shocked by the death of his fellow mage, that did not compare
to his utter incomprehension that Koren had survived the most powerful fireball
the wizard was capable of throwing. Survived, it appeared, without even
scorching the boy's tangled mess of hair. Unable to speak, or really even to
think, the enemy wizard stood halfway up, to gape at the boy, who was now
pushing himself to his knees, shaking his head. From behind a pair of stones
rose up the man who had been the Acedor raiding force's prey; the powerful
court wizard of Tarador.

The two
adversaries locked eyes for an instant, as the mage of Acedor gestured toward
Koren, his mouth forming a silent question. No wizard could survive being
struck by a fireball; a powerful wizard like Paedris could knock a fireball
aside, or block it to splash in front of him, but no one could survive being
struck by searing magical fire. Not even, thought the mage, his own dark
Master. That boy-

could the boy

possibly

be-

Paedris
nodded, in answer to the question. "Yes." He said simply, then
reached down deep inside himself, gathered his last remaining strength, and the
last enemy wizard disappeared in a blaze of blue fire.

"Paedris!"
Koren shouted, as he watched the wizard sink to his knees, and fall face-down
in the dirt and weeds that covered the ground of the old courtyard.

The enemy
soldiers, cowering in fear and dismay after their three mages were burnt to a
crisp, had regained a bit of their courage. Although, courage was not needed,
since many soldiers of Acedor were under a compulsion, and that magical urge
now reasserted itself. While Koren was straining to lift the wizard onto the
kneeling horse, one soldier worked up the nerve to quickly glance above the
pile of rocks he was hiding behind. What he saw emboldened him, and he motioned
to his fellows. He saw the wizard of Tarador, unconscious or nearly so, and the
boy. By themselves. The boy had survived a fireball, but surely that was the
work of the Taradoran wizard, and not the boy? He looked like merely an
ordinary boy. One boy, and there were eight veteran soldiers of Acedor arrayed
against him.

Koren's first
notion that the enemy was back was an arrow that just missed his head, barely
missed because he had reflexively ducked his head aside at the last second. He
had heard the whistle of the arrow in flight, or the twanging sound of a
bowstring, or had it been something else? With a last desperate heave, he
managed to get Paedris on the back of Thunderbolt, and he spun to face the
enemy. He had only a split second to batter aside another arrow with his bow,
and dodge a third, before he could nock an arrow of his own, and let it fly. A
second arrow was on its way to another target before the first arrow had
reached halfway across the courtyard, and the first arrow was traveling at
blazing speed.

The enemy
soldier who had been boldest paid the price for his actions, for he had been
reaching for another arrow, when Koren's first missile caught him square in the
chest, flinging him backwards to sprawl, instantly dead, across a pile of
stones. Koren's second target had the good fortune, or sense, to drop down as
soon as he had loosed his own poorly-aimed arrow. But Koren's second arrow
still hit the top of the enemy's helmet with enough force to slam his face into
a stone and make stars appear in his eyes.

"Koren,
no! You must,
you
must get away. Everything depends on it. We are lost
if-" Paedris muttered feverishly, almost in a whisper. Seeing Koren
survive being struck by a fireball had not only shocked Paedris to his core, it
terrified him. If Koren was that unimaginably strong now, what would he be when
he gain his full powers? And could anyone control such power?

"Shhhh,
quiet, sir, you mustn't strain yourself, you're weak with fever." Koren
was afraid for the wizard's life, the man's pulse was weak and alternately
racing and slow. He could not imagine the effort it had taken for Paedris to
fight off, then kill, three enemy wizards. If the enemy had invaded Tarador to
set a trap for the court wizard, they must have sent three of their most
powerful wizards. That Paedris survived was a miracle, and now his life hung by
a thread. Koren tied a strap across the wizard, to hold him onto the horse, and
then grasped the bridle to look Thunderbolt in the eyes. "I don't know if
Paedris had cast a spell on you, too, or if it is something else, but I think
you can understand me somewhat. You need to carry Paedris out of here, fast as
you can, get back to the road and go north, toward home. I'll follow you as I
can," Koren added as he heard a clatter of stones announcing the enemy
soldiers were again looking for an opportunity to attack. "Now, go!"
Koren shouted, and swatted Thunderbolt on the rump. The horse took two steps
forward, stopped, turned to look back at Koren, tossed his head, and was gone,
leaping over the half-buried stone of the ruined gate.

Koren wrinkled
his nose before stepping into the water, breaking the solid green scum of algae
on top. The water was disgusting, and smelled worse, but he could not see any
choice. He was trapped, with only two ways out. Forward was the channel of
water, the surface of the water a good two feet below the roof of the ancient
drainage channel where Koren stood, but the roofstones of the vault sloped down
and disappeared under the water ahead. Behind him were enemy troops, with
plenty of arrows, swords, spears, and most important, a cask of oil, and
torches to light it. When Paedris escaped, Koren discovered he had only two
arrows left in his quiver, and although those two arrows claimed two enemy
soldiers, there were many of the enemy left, far more than Koren expected.
Right after Thunderbolt carried the wizard away, several soldiers had blocked
the gap in the wall where the gate used to be, cutting off Koren's escape
route. And although Koren's fighting skills were more than a match for two, or
even three, enemy soldiers, they had arrows, and he didn't. He quickly found
himself taking hasty shelter behind a stone, with no way out. After an arrow
got through his guard and made a shallow cut in his leg, he decided he needed
to dash for the wall, or he would be trapped there, and worn down eventually.
As he got up onto the balls of his feet to run for freedom, he planted the tip
of his sword into the soil for balance, and was surprised to see the sword sink
into the soft ground. Digging with the sword, he discovered that he wasn't
crouched on the ground at all, he was on the rotted remnants of a wood hatch
that covered an old drainage channel, like the old, blocked-off vault under the
Cornerstone chamber in Linden. He had tugged the crumbling hatch aside enough
to squeeze through, hoping to follow the channel out to where it surely must
run into the stream outside the walls.

And now he was
certainly well and truly trapped. The enemy had taken a long time to learn that
Koren wasn't still crouched behind the stone, then they had quickly discovered
the hole leading down to the drainage channel, when the first soldier stepped
on the rotted wood, and fell through. Since then, pairs of soldiers had taken
turns going down into the channel, but because Koren was able to take shelter
behind rocks that had fallen from the ceiling, the enemy was not able to use
arrows with any effect. And the channel wasn't tall enough to stand up in,
which made sword fighting impractical. After Koren's sword chopped the points
off a couple spears, the enemy had retreated above ground, to shout insults
down at Koren, some of them in the harsh, guttural language of Acedor, but
enough in the common tongue that Koren could understand. Even if he didn't know
the language, Koren could have figured that the enemy soldiers were not
shouting words of encouragement to him, or offering food and fresh water. When
they grew tired of shouting insults, the enemy had stopped to think, and that
is when the trouble really started for Koren. Two of the soldiers had small
casks of oil with them, why Koren didn't know, although it was likely for some
evil rites the mages of Acedor used to practice their foul magics. One soldier
had come down into the channel, rolling a cask before him, and then had pulled
out the stopper, letting the oil out. Because the channel sloped downward
toward Koren, the oil was now flowing in his direction, forming a thick sheen
on top of the water. He could barely see there, underground, only the light of
the enemy's torches above and moonlight came weakly down through the hole Koren
had 'escaped' through. It was clear that the enemy would soon toss a flaming
torch down into the channel, and set the oil on fire.

So, Koren
inched forward, until his head scraped the top of the chamber, and the water
was up to his nose. He tilted his head up, breathed in as deeply as he could.
His only hope was to swim, or crawl, down the channel to where it emptied into
the stream. If the old channel wasn't blocked along the way.

What Koren
didn't know, as he took one last breath and slipped beneath the water, was that
the enemy had found the other end of the channel where it emptied into the
stream, and had three soldiers positioned there, ready to strike if he ever
made it that far.

Koren hadn't
heard any sounds from enemy soldiers for what he judged was several hours now;
by the color of the light, he guessed the sun was setting. He had never made it
to the end of the channel at the stream, the way was blocked by the collapsed
roof of the channel, and by thick roots. After a few seconds of trying to
squeeze by the roots, with his air running out and blood pounding in his ears,
he had turned around to see flickering orange light behind him. The enemy had
set the oil on fire, he could not return. He lay on his back in the water,
about to accept his fate, when his eyes caught the faintest glimmer of light
above him. Clawing his way upward with his bare hands, he found a narrow tunnel
which led to the surface, barely enough room for his face so that he could
breathe. Air! He had air. And cover, for while enemy soldiers had walked the
length of the  channel above the ground, stabbing downward with the spears
and shouting insults, they had not discovered Koren's hiding place. Toward
morning, when sunlight filtered down through the hole, Koren realized that a
long time ago, a tree had grown over the channel, and grown large, its roots
seeking the water below. Eventually, the roots had collapsed the roof of the
channel, then later, the tree must have blow over in a storm. The hole Koren
was in was where a root had rotted away. Working slowly and quietly, he had
managed to gouge out a space big enough for his head, neck and one arm, the
rest of his body was submerged in the water, and he was chilled to the bone.
Also hungry, and thirsty. He knew better than to drink stagnant water, he could
still smell the stink of the green scum of algae that lay on top of the water.
A brief rainshower before dawn, with water streaming down the roots into his
parched mouth, was the only water he'd drunk since he left the royal army, the
night before.

It was time to
get out of the hole, while he still could. Moving with stiff muscles, he carefully
reached above, and scooped one handful of dirt at a time to rain down on his
head and shoulders. When he couldn't see anymore, he plunged down into the
water, washing away the dirt. The sun had set before Koren was able to squeeze
himself up out of the hole to look around. All appeared quiet, he couldn't see
any enemy soldiers. A pair of deer grazed in the field, near the treeline;
Koren knew it was unlikely deer would expose themselves if people were around,
especially people on horses. The enemy must have left the area. His sword was
tossed out first, then he wriggled to break free of the roots and rocks. With
legs too stiff and cold to walk, he had to crawl to the stream, where he
disciplined himself to scrub his face and hands clean with sand, before moving
upstream to drink the clear water. Sipping, rather than gulping as he wanted
to, he drank his fill slowly. When he was almost able to stand, he stumbled
painfully downstream to a pool, where he scrubbed the muck off the rest of
himself, and his clothes, as best he could.

Sitting by the
stream in the silvery moonlight, trying to stretch his leg muscles so he could
walk upright, he realized with a start that very day was his fourteenth
birthday. It was not his best birthday. Perhaps it was the worst. His
thirteenth birthday had been interrupted by the people of Crebb's Ford
announcing that he, Koren, had been banished from Crickdon county. That had
been a bad birthday, certainly. But this was his first birthday without his
parents, without his mother baking a special treat for him, without his father
helping with Koren's morning chores, so they could go fishing most of the day.
Fishing, sitting by a stream like this one, talking, or sitting together in
comfortable silence. Bring home fresh fish, which Koren and his father cleaned
and cooked, served with butter and toasted bread crumbs, carrots and potatoes.
Koren's mouth watered just thinking of such good food. or, right then, any
food, he was so hungry. Still, he was alive, and being alive meant a chance for
a better day ahead.

On achingly
stiff legs, he walked slowly back to the road, where he looked both ways in the
fading light. He was alone. Ready to duck out of the road if he heard anyone
coming, he trudged north, hopefully following Thunderbolt and the wizard.

After walking
north along the road through the night and half the next morning, he heard the
sound of hooves, and ducked behind a tree, his short sword ready. To his
surprise and delight, it was Thunderbolt, trotting along, looking lost, and as
tired as Koren was! The horse had no saddle, and his coat appeared to have been
brushed, so Koren assumed the smart beast had carried the wizard to a village,
or farm, somewhere people tended to lost horses and injured wizards. After a
joyous greeting, Koren had ridden the horse for only a quarter of an hour, when
the horse's wobbly legs told Koren it was time to stop. Finding a field with
grass for Thunderbolt to graze, and fresh water to drink, the two settled down
to catch much-needed sleep, and had awakened later than Koren intended. The sun
was low in the western sky, it was almost night time. With the two refreshed,
watered, and at least Thunderbolt's belly full, they returned to the road and
proceeded north at a steady trot, until they found the way blocked by a royal
army patrol. The patrol was commanded by a sergeant, a man sent hurriedly south
to block the road after the royal army was alerted by riders sent north from
Captain Raddick, and the sergeant was following the vague orders he'd been
given, without any imagination. Block the road, keep lookout for enemy forces,
keep any civilians out of harm's way. Koren was a civilian, so Koren had been
kept with seven farm families, who had been hastily gathered up from their
homes, and ordered to stay with the supposed safety of the royal army. Keeping
civilians safe, with enemy troops possibly roaming around the countryside, was
easier with the civilians in one place, rather than wandering around by
themselves and getting into trouble. And so, Koren had been forced to stay with
the sergeant
’
s
two dozen troops, most of whom were untrained reserves called up from the local
militia in the emergency. Three days had gone by, with Koren fuming at the
delay, before a regular royal army unit arrived in the late afternoon, three
hundred soldiers galloping down the road, spears in the air and banners flying.

As soon he was
able, he sought out the Captain of the army unit, a red-haired woman he didn
’
t know called Glennis
MacKurt.
“
Captain,
ma
’
am, I
’
m Lord Paedris Don Salva
’
s servant, we got
separated at the battle of Longshire.
”

“
Huh, who?
”
MacKurt was irritated to
be interrupted, she had too much to worry about already.
“
Who are you?
”

“
Lord Salva, ma
’
am, the court wizard? I
’
m his servant, Koren Bladewell.
I sent him away on my horse three night ago, he was badly injured. I need to
find him!
”

MacKurt
frowned. If this boy truly was the master wizard
’
s servant, MacKurt needed to pay attention.
She didn
’
t
need people at the royal court hearing bad things about Captain MacKurt.
“
Sent him away?
”

“
Yes, ma'am, he killed
three enemy wizards, but the enemy still surrounded us, and he was injured, so
I sent him away on my horse,
”
Koren pointed toward Thunderbolt.
“
My
horse came back the next morning, but I don
’
t know where Lord Salva is! I
’
ve been stuck here wasting
time for three days!"

MacKurt
thought for a minute.
“
The
wizard is gravely ill, he is on his way to the royal palace hospital, we passed
his wagon as we rode south yesterday. I didn
’
t hear anything about his servant, though.
Can you prove you are his servant?
”

“
Begging your pardon,
Captain,
”
one
of MacKurt's lieutenants spoke,
“
if
that devil horse is the boy
’
s,
then he must be the wizard
’
s
servant. I
’
ve
never met the boy, but I remember that horse from when I stabled General
Magrane
’
s
horse last year. The stable hands hated that horse, and I hear the wizard
’
s servant is the only one
who can ride him.
”

MacKurt
considered the horse, then Koren.
“
That
could be true, could be. I
’
ve
also heard the wizard has given his servant magical fighting skills. If you are
his servant, surely you could best one of my soldiers with a sword?

Koren gritted
his teeth and fumed with anger. Paedris was gravely ill, and she wanted him to
waste time performing tricks?
“
If
Lord Salva is sick, I need to go to him now! I know where he keeps his potions
and things, in his tower.
”