Death Mages Ascent: Revised Edition (Death Mage Series Book 1) (22 page)

             
Chapter 26

              Jaxom sat next to a small fire opposite Corin, who was stirring the coals with a stick. His risen fire and ice mage stood motionless nearby, like flesh statues in the light of the moon. Corin had been impressed that the mages retained the ability to cast, but not everyone had been so enthusiastic. When Serin discovered what Jaxom had done, he demanded that the risen be destroyed, stating that mages should not be disgraced in such a manner. In spite of Serin’s indignation, Jaxom had a feeling there was another reason he wished them destroyed. When Jaxom refused, the mage had stormed off in anger.

Adriana slept next to him, curled into a small blanket. She and Brenin had been taking turns watching the Southerners. Jaxom had woken when she returned with her most recent update, and he had been unable to fall back asleep. Corin seemed to have the same problem. Adriana had reported that the enemy had not stopped their advance but continued to march through the late afternoon. Corin had not seemed concerned. The invaders would want to get as close as possible to the Ale’adarian army, ensuring that no surprise maneuvers awaited them. The invaders had consolidated in their pursuit, allowing the two scouts to get a full count. The enemy now numbered no more than sixty-five thousand, a little less than was originally reported, but the Ale’adarain’s were still outnumbered.

“I’ve been giving some thought to your request,” Corin said, breaking the silence.

Jaxom looked up, confused. “What request is that?”

“To restore the city in the north as a school for death mages,” he said.

“We should discuss that after we win. Alimar was clear that we don’t yet have his allegiance,” Jaxom replied.

“We will win because we have to,” Corin said lightly. “There is no harm in talking about what comes next. The Mage Wars set the law that mages can no longer rule, but I think there may be a way around that.”

Jaxom leaned forward with interest. “I haven’t worked out all the details,” Corin continued, smiling, “and I don’t want to get your hopes up.”

“You can be a real bastard sometimes, you know that?” Jaxom said leaning back in exasperation.

“The one ability that truly separates you from other mages is that you put up with me,” he said laughing.

              Jaxom was about to respond with some unpleasant statements regarding his personality when he was interrupted by a loud flapping of wings above them. Shortly after, Brenin landed. Adriana woke as he jumped down from the durgen and ran to Corin.

              “Your Majesty, the Southerners have been marching through the evening
.
They will be here shortly,” Brenin said.

              Adriana, now fully awake, heard the news and rose to stand next to Jaxom, her fingers interlacing his in a tight grip. The enemy was attacking in the open at night. The ensuing confusion could easily cost them their advantage in numbers, or it could mean a crushing defeat for Corin’s army, with no chance of an organized retreat. “Find the fire mages and tell them to light the largest fires they can as far in front of the line as possible. Tell the earth mages to drop trenches shortly in front of their positions, but the fires are the priority,” Corin said.

              Brenin slapped his fist to his chest and looked to Adriana. “If you take the left flank, this will go much faster,” he said. Adriana nodded and gave Jaxom’s hand one more squeeze before grabbing her bow and moving to her own durgen.

                 “The Southerners are about to find out they have made a huge mistake,” Corin said. “Alert the men to ready themselves,” he said to one of his nearby guards. The man brought a horn to his lips and blew a long note followed by two shorter ones. The notes were repeated throughout the camp, until Jaxom could hear them half a mile away in either direction. No sooner had the last horn faded away than the first large fireballs arced out into the sky, landing two hundred feet in the direction of the enemy. The fire mages magic continuing to burn on the ground, casting a harsh light over the battlefield.

              Jaxom climbed onto his horse as his risen mages climbed onto theirs. Corin had not been keen on giving the risen horses, but Jaxom had convinced him they would be more effective if they were better able to see. Around him, Corin’s personal guard formed up. Their only job in this fight was to protect the king. Jaxom reached down, offering his hand. “Good luck, Corin,” Jaxom said. Gripping his hand firmly, Corin nodded before turning to speak with the first arriving messenger.

              Jaxom rode out beyond the encircling guard headed for the center where he had decided to make his stand. As he approached, he saw several lords and officers riding behind the rows of spear and swordsmen shouting final orders. Among them, Jaxom spotted a robed man sitting astride his horse. In the dim light, Jaxom could not make out their color, but as he got closer, he realized the man was Darian. The ice mage sat staring out over the line of men and burning fires. “Good evening, Darian. I did not expect to find you here,” Jaxom said.

              Darian jumped at the words. “Jaxom, you startled me,” he said, looking rattled. “I switched with the storm mage. I knew you would be at the center and thought it would be good to fight beside you again.”

              “What about Danika?” Jaxom asked.

              “She took the left flank with her brother,” Darian said. “I see you still have the two… captured mages with you,” he said looking warily over Jaxom’s shoulder.

              “We will need them soon, I’m afraid,” Jaxom replied. “You don’t suppose I could…” Darian said hesitantly, looking at the risen ice mage.

              Jaxom chuckled to himself while commanding the risen mage in question to move next to Darian and follow his commands. “He will be slower to respond with spoken orders, but having him will make you safer,” he said.

              “It is not about feeling safe,” Darian replied. “I like being able to cast twice the amount of ice. It is like he is another set of hands wielding my magic,” he said with a mock evil smile.

              Jaxom was going to remark on how his thirst for power would be his undoing, but just then long blows of signal horns announced the enemy army’s arrival. Looking over the top of the soldier’s heads, he could see the Southerners approaching the flames. He would once again have to be closer than he was now for his magic to be effective. Being mounted among all those on foot would only single him out for attack. Climbing down from the saddle, Jaxom drew his enchanted sword. Power pulsated within the steel blade from the barely contained energy held there. Corin thought, he had lost his mind when he instructed his risen fire mage to throw fireballs directly at him. The look on his friend’s face had been priceless as the first ball of flame sped towards Jaxom only to disappear into his sword. After the eleventh flaming cast had been absorbed, he could feel that the sword would hold no more.

              Walking forward, he left the risen fire mage with the general command to protect the soldiers from enemy casts.  With every step he took, bones flew out of the earth, attaching themselves to his body and encasing him in a shell of white armor. As he worked his way through the rear ranks, the men stepped aside, some saluting as he passed. The word had spread quickly back at the camp about the mage who held the line with the common soldiers, sharing in the same risk. Jaxom shook his head. Not so long ago, most of these men would have avoided him at all costs. All it had taken to earn their respect was to put himself in mortal danger. He wondered what dying would get him. Maybe they would tell stories over rounds of ale, recounting the tale of the first mage ever to stand as one of them. The morbid notion brought a smile to his face, and he could feel his stride strengthen with purpose. They would just have to tell stories about him for some other reason. He had no intention of dying tonight. His smile deepened at the thought. Seeing him smiling strangely, men began to shuffle out of his way quickly.

              From the front line, he had a view
of the enemy forces silhouetted by the magical fire. The sounds of their horns reached his ears and the army before him began to move forward as one. As they closed the distance, the horns sounded again, and the Southern army charged forward, screaming. Their battle cry vibrated within Jaxom’s chest. With the enemy soldiers less than thirty feet away, Jaxom raised his hand and let the blight flow forth in a swirling mass of black and grey. The tendrils made contact with six of the oncoming soldiers, wrapping around their chests and limbs. Those affected dropped to the ground in agony as the blight wormed its way past the armor to the flesh beneath. Before the downed soldiers were dead, Jaxom redirected the flow to ensnare those who were stepping on the backs of their comrades. More were caught and fell to suffer the fate of their comrades.

              The two lines finally met after what seemed to Jaxom an eternity. The advancing force slammed into the defenders with such violence that Jaxom and those around him were forced back. In such close quarters, he could only swing his sword to deflect incoming blades. His bone armor took many blows but held as men on both sides fell screaming from grievous wounds. After a few seconds of the heavy press, the defenders regained their footing and the line steadied, stopping the Southerner’s momentum. Jaxom stood shoulder to shoulder with the men around him, unable to fully use his sword for fear of hitting his allies. He had been in many fights but none like this, and he wished he had taken the time to train in this type of combat. He ran his sword through an opponent’s stomach only to have him instantly replaced by another who stepped over the body to engage Jaxom. Parrying the first downward stroke, Jaxom quickly reacted to block the spear aimed at his ribs. The first man took advantage of the distraction to strike again at Jaxom’s chest. Again he stopped the attack, but realized that he could only hold the two back for so long. The thought was confirmed as the spear penetrated the bone armor on his leg and  waves of pain coursed through him.

              He took a half step back to find some breathing room, only to run into the defender behind who grabbed the bone collar of Jaxom’s armor, steadying him. Those to his left and right felt his short retreat and shifted slightly to fill the gap, buying Jaxom time to regroup. Pointing his sword directly at the mass of enemy soldiers, he released three of the contained fireballs in slightly different directions, killing several men and burning more around them. Into the ensuing confusion in their ranks, Jaxom cast the blight. The short distance allowed him to spread the tendrils out in a wider span, latching on to almost a dozen men who screamed as his magic found them. The Southern men watched as the faces of those afflicted fell away.

              Then Jaxom saw three fireballs arcing through the dark sky accompanied by two very large ice spears, all headed straight for him. As he readied to defend himself, three more fireballs roared overhead from behind him, colliding with two of the enemy’s. The resulting collision caused two large explosions in the air while the third fireball connected with an ice spear and vaporized it. Jaxom raised his sword to meet the remaining fire ball, absorbing it within the steel. The second frozen spear shattered in midair, raining shards down among the defenders and impaling many. His bone armor took many hits against the onslaught of ice, and one of the frozen razors tearing a shallow cut on his cheek. To his surprise, a cheer went up around him as the soldiers took a precious moment to celebrate the foiled attack. Jaxom stepped back through the press, allowing the man behind him to take his place.

              Reaching the back of the line, he saw the risen fire mage casting from horseback, her magic countering the attacks of other mages. He considered having her change tactics and strike offensively at the enemy soldiers, but decided against it. The defenders were doing well on their own. If she diverted some of her casts to land amongst the enemy soldiers, the mages on the other side would have an opportunity to do the same. Reaching out, he looked through the eyes of the closest durgen and was momentarily disorientated by the radical shift in perspective. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Adriana holding the reins. He turned his attention to the fighting below. He could see the line where the two armies pressed against one another. In some areas, the line bulged inward, but the attackers had not found a way to break through. Then Jaxom saw the right flank. The men there were pressed hard as massive golems waded amongst them and small tornadoes tore through their ranks. Serin and the mages under his command were stationed on that side, but Jaxom could see no counter-casts. Adriana must have spotted the potential catastrophe as well. She directed her mount toward that area. As she closed the distance, Jaxom could see Celia and the men she commanded also running to their aid. Even with her added cavalry, the flank would not hold under such heavy attack.

              Pulling back to his own body, Jaxom saw Darian further down the line with the risen ice mage beside him, both casting out over the heads of the defenders to great effect. The men there were doing well. Many of the attackers were dead, and the rest clearly hesitant to continue fighting. Jaxom ran to the ice mage.

              “Darian, something has gone wrong. The right flank is about to collapse,” Jaxom yelled over the sound of the battle.

              “What do you mean?” Darian asked looking down.

              “The mages there aren’t casting. We need to reinforce that side before they are overrun,” Jaxom replied.