Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (54 page)

Read Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Online

Authors: Mark E. Cooper

Tags: #Sword & Sorcery, #Magic & Wizards, #Epic, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Series, #Sorceress, #sorcerer, #wizard

BOOK: Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3
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“Come on you... ack, ack... flaming wooden-headed...”

Keverin turned to see a guardsman trying to pull his horse onward. Its eyes were wide and panicked. It refused to move on.

“Brian... ack, ack. Get someone up that cursed hill. See... ack, what’s to see.”

Brian wheezed his acknowledgement. He scrambled up himself rather than order some other poor soul to do it. Almost straight away, he returned.

“Lord... ack, the flames are circling round. We... ack, ack, ack, must turn back now or be trapped.”

He couldn’t leave! Julia might be only a few yards beyond the next hill. He looked around at his men fighting the horses and came to a decision.

“I’m sorry Kev... ack, ack, it’s hopeless. We’re done,” Jihan wheezed. The young lord’s face was black with ash and he looked out at the world through red rimmed and streaming eyes.

“Jihan... ack, ack, listen carefully. You are to lead... ack, ack, ack... my men... back to Malcor. I want you to... ack, ack... to... witness the declaration of my heir. Tell... ack, ack, Gylaren’s second son... tell Niklaus that he is my choice. Do you understand?”

“But Kev...”

“Do... you... understand?” Keverin said intently.

“I understand Kev, but... I understand,” Jihan said sadly.

“Good... ack, ack... Take Cavell with you. Now you best be on your way.”

“May the God watch over you and Julia,” Jihan said.

Keverin watched Jihan turn reluctantly and head south. The horses were so eager to go back, they quieted enough to allow the men to mount. They galloped away like the wind.

Keverin hoped they made it before the circle closed.

Looking for a direction was hopeless. Julia could be anywhere. Closing his eyes, he prayed for guidance then turned on the spot. When he opened his eyes, he was looking into the worst of the smoke. Without hesitation, he walked into it. Keverin’s world turned to stinging eyes and hacking cough.

* * *

Julia’s world had narrowed until only one thing remained—breathing. She was slowly suffocating. She had tried dropping her shield when the sorcerers succumbed to the firestorm—a mistake. The heat and smoke were so much worse that her hair ignited.

“AEiii!” Julia screamed in shock.

Her magic jumped into her grasp so fast she wasn’t sure afterwards whether she reached for it or whether it came to her aid unbidden. Whichever it was her shield slammed down so hard the ground was grooved in a circle around them. As quick as thought she extinguished her hair, but Mathius was unconscious and didn’t know he was burning.

Julia put out the flames with a thought and tried to heal his arms and legs, but she couldn’t hold the shield at the same time. Coughing and with her eyes streaming she drew more magic until she was floating in fire, but still she couldn’t see his aura. She returned from the abyss gasping at the pain that stuttered along her nerves.

Julia tried to make the shield harden itself against the smoke. She had to keep it out or suffocate. It seemed to work. As the smoke cleared, she began to hope they might survive. Her hopes were dashed when after half a candlemark she became light headed. The shield was keeping everything out, the air included. Julia changed it again and started hacking her lungs up as the smoke rushed in along with the air.

The fire raced across the plain faster than a horse could gallop. It was raging completely out of control. A large body of men galloped north trying to make a run for it. They were Deva’s enemies, but Julia wished them luck. A short time later, she saw a group only a fraction of the size galloping back to the south, and believed it to be the same one.

She doubted they survived.

How many people had she killed now? Directly and indirectly, she was responsible for the deaths of twenty thousand legionnaires, and she had failed to save over half of the guardsmen at Athione. If Father Gideon was right, she would kneel in judgement before God soon. Would he understand why she made the choices she had? Would he forgive her?

It was time to change the shield again. Smoke and the stink of burnt meat rushed in. Julia’s eyes streamed so badly she lost sight of the few remaining groups of legionnaires. She could only hope they didn’t decide to gallop this way. The little she could see was seen through a veil of tears. That would be a good name for this battle. The Veil of Tears. If more battles were named thus, there might be less war.

The coughing became so bad, she hardly drew any air in at all, but it was still a more merciful death than the one the Hasians were receiving. Death by suffocation was far better than death by fire. The misery of slow suffocation continued as she changed the shield at intervals. The sky was dark with smoke. It had been blowing southward toward her for a long time now, but suddenly it shifted west. The air outside cleared a little, and she let it back in with relief. It didn’t feel hot any longer and tentatively she raised the shield ready to slam it down again.

A cool breeze caressed the tight skin of her cheeks.

Coughing and gasping for air, she released her magic... tried to release it, but it was a struggle. She had been using it constantly for most of the day. It left her reluctantly, but it did leave and weariness hammered her flat. Staring at the sky, Julia thought she saw stars intermittently as clouds of blackness drifted by. The darkness closing in hadn’t been smoke then, but the night approaching. She stared at the beautiful stars unmoving.

Julia might have died then, but the figure crawling toward her was Keverin not a legionnaire bent on revenge. He collapsed besides her wheezing.

“They’re beautiful aren’t they,” she croaked from a throat roar from smoke.

“Not as beautiful as you, my lady.”

Julia instinctively touched what was left of her hair. There was only stubble on one side, the other hung in tangled and melted snarls.

“Flatterer.”

Keverin croaked a laugh. All he could manage with his breathe rasping in and out. Julia grasped his hand and eased him with her magic ignoring his startled exclamation and the scolding he gave her for wearing herself out. She needed his strength to get them all out of here. There was no point in the boys being in such poor shape when she could do something about it. Mathius was barely breathing, and Julia cursed herself for the delay. She quickly healed him, but the scars remained, mute testimony to her stupidity in opening the shield in a firestorm.

Tears leaked from Julia’s eyes as she gazed at the stars. Back on her old world people didn’t notice the beauty all around them, but here she had seen more in the last half year than all the previous nineteen put together.

“Here... drink some of this,” Keverin said.

Julia let him pour some of the water from the bag into her mouth and swallowed. “Gahhh! That’s disgusting,” she wheezed.

“It’s only water.”

“Tastes... the inside... my boots,” she whispered.

“We need to wake Mathius and get out of here.”

“Please... do...” she croaked.

Damn!
Her voice was going now. What next?

* * *

“Mathius wake up curse you!”

The voice sounded familiar. Mathius sat up with a gasp, and looked around. Lord Keverin was kneeling beside a figure on the ground. Julia! Mathius jumped to his feet and watched numbly as his robe disintegrated around him. What had happened? He could remember the suffocating smoke and heat, but that was all.

Mathius could see by the moonlight that half the day had fled and him unknowing. Everywhere he looked was ash. The fire was still raging leagues away, but from here it looked like a solid wall of bonfires made small by distance. He shivered. The fire would keep going for a hundred leagues until it met a river, or until it rained. He was horrified to see that Julia was burned, but with relief he realised it was just her hair. There wouldn’t be any scars. Thinking about burns, he looked at his forearms and legs. He could see faint silvery scars encircling his arms and the calves of his legs. They looked years old. He had Julia to thank.

Julia looked at him and smiled wanly.
*Sorry. I let the shield go too soon. I healed you, but the scars... I’m so sorry Mathius.*

Mathius smiled. “Don’t worry about that. You saved me. That’s all that matters. Now I get to save you for a change.”

Julia didn’t laugh. She was struggling to breathe. The smoke had done its worst on her. She needed a healer right away.

“We need to get her back to Malcor as soon as possible my lord.”

“I know that Mathius! I’m looking for her cursed boots,” Keverin said in frustration.

“Forget them. She can’t walk like this. I’ll carry her,” he said urgently.

Mathius knelt by her side and hoisted in his arms. The slide down the hill was no worse than last time and he quickly regained his feet to head south. Luckily, the sky was clear overhead or they might have travelled in circles all night. Julia was as light as a child in his arms, but she was no child. He could feel the hard muscle beneath her soft exterior. She was like that in many ways. He remembered the look on her face as she killed a battalion of men intent on following Delin’s dust trail. The image of a beautiful woman was completely at odds with the hard steely eyed harridan she had become as she blasted them into the next world.

Julia was full of contradictions. One moment killing a man, the next she was healing a sick child. She killed hundreds of men at Athione, only to heal hundreds more afterwards, and now this. She was both strong and weak, feared and trusted, loved and hated, but most of all it was love people felt. Lord Keverin and his guardsmen loved her more than life. The God help him, he felt the same.

A few candlemarks later, Mathius was stumbling with exhaustion, but he forced himself on. He followed Keverin as he searched for the shortest route home to Malcor. Julia had lapsed into unconsciousness a while back, but her wheezing breath said she still lived. It drove him on. Mathius tried not to think about what he needed to do when they reached the fire. He had seen his father summon a storm once as a child, but it would take every scrap of magic a simple mage like him could draw. He had steadfastly refused to try for the yellow robe precisely because he knew he might not survive the test, but he was willing to risk it for Julia.

Anything for her.

* * *

Keverin edged forward. “Easy girl easy…” he said as the bedraggled horse edged back from him.

No, you God cursed excuse for a horse!

The mare stopped and Keverin resumed his careful stalk. She was burnt, but not too seriously. Her mane and tail were nothing but stubble. She looked rather strange, but her legs were sound and that was all Julia needed. Mathius was resting a few yards away holding Julia in his arms. How he envied Mathius his closeness with her.

He forced himself not to despair.

When he found her alive, he had felt like cheering. He hadn’t recognised how bad Julia needed a healer until later. Now he began to panic. Julia had fallen unconscious and her lips were tinged blue. She was slowly suffocating. Beneath the dirt and ash, Julia’s cheeks were pale, and he tried to make himself believe they weren’t turning blue as well, but knew he was fooling himself.

Finally, he caught the reins and held on while the flaming beast bucked and neighed her indignation. He was lifted and tossed about but there was no way he was letting her get away. He would hold on until the mountains turned to dust if he had to! The flaming beast finally got it out of her system and he helped Mathius to mount. He lifted Julia up to him and they set off southward again. She looked like a child in Mathius’ arms. A hurt child in desperate need of a healer.

The night fled and dawn found them confronted by a wall of fire. Julia hadn’t regained consciousness. Mathius said that she was no worse. Keverin took him at his word. It was all he could do.

“Why do you keep looking at the clouds?” Keverin asked. He gazed up at them himself. They were only smoke weren’t they?

“You never knew my father, did you my Lord?”

Keverin shook his head. “Can you shield us through the fire in some way?”

“Not through that. If I tried there would be nothing left of us to say we ever lived. He was a great man, my father. Of course I didn’t know that then, but he taught me something that might get us through this.”

“If not a shield, then what? Can you bridge it?”

Mathius shook his head. “I saw him call a storm once to help a village during a drought. I’ve never tried anything like that before, but I might be strong enough to do it here.”

“And if you’re not strong enough?”

“You already know,” Mathius said quietly.

Keverin hugged Mathius, and then left him to his work. He sat next to Julia to watch the mage try to surpass his rank to save her. It was a good thing she wasn’t awake. She would never have let him try it if she had been. There was nothing to indicate Mathius was doing anything at first. The fire continued to advance southward at the same rate, but the wind suddenly came up from the north.

He’ll make it worse!

Keverin looked up at the towering clouds. Before he could do anything, he felt a splash on his face, then another. It was working! Mathius had brought rain clouds from the north. Lightning crackled, and thunder crashed, but Mathius stood unmoving with his head thrown back and his arms out stretched. On his face, there was a look of joy! More thunder and lightning shattered the morning, and the heavens opened to pummel them with heavy raindrops. The flames were already dying back, and steam rose into the air as the water struck the hot ashes. Keverin tried to shelter Julia with his body as much as possible and watched Mathius bring a deluge.

A short while later, Keverin rode with Julia in his arms and Mathius lead the way on foot. The rain continued to fall as they moved south. It didn’t impede them too much. The ground had been parched and it eagerly drank the water down without turning to mud.

They travelled without stopping, and arrived at Malcor that same afternoon.

* * *

16 ~ A World of Dreams

Lucius rode from dawn to dusk with Lysara at his side. To his surprise, the girl had kept her promise not to hold him back, and they were making good time to Malcor. Purcell had dumbfounded him by agreeing with her request to go with him. Lucius couldn’t decide why that should bother him so much. On the one hand she would be perfectly safe. He was a wizard after all, and besides he had a company of guardsmen with him. On the other hand, she was Purcell’s only daughter. Why would a lord like Purcell allow her to go? The only thing he could think of was that he looked with favour on Lysara’s silly notion of wedding him!

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