Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) (22 page)

“
Nonsense,”
said his friend, a very short fellow with a big nose and long, thick black
beard going down to his belly, “if there were any magicians around here Lion's
Landing would be thick with Kenzai hunters looking to bring the bastards in.”

“
It
is true,” the smelly one declared. Banging his mug on the table he ordered a
refill.

“
Let
me get that for you,” Byrn told Smelly pouring him another mug.

While
most of the rogue magician’s time was spent in the stable, he would visit the
common room of the inn whenever he could hoping to hear some gossip that might
point him in the direction of Avelice. The incident with the bandits taught him
that he had little to fear from most men, but this woman might be able to help
expand his magical knowledge and get some much needed supplies. There were
basic things that he never considered before like how to make a staff or enchant
a book to make a decent grimoire. A magician casting a spell without the proper
devices was like a carpenter trying to hammer a nail into a wall with his shoe.
It might work eventually, but the carpenter would be dog tired by the time he
was done.

“
If
you do not mind my saying I do not think there are any ‘wizards’ within a
hundred miles of here,” Byrn offered with a sheepish grin.

“
Foolish,
kid,” grunted Smelly, “A fat lot of nothing is what you know. My brother seen
one when he was hunting some game. She had hair as black as night and wore a
black cloak walking through the western part of the forest. My brother tried to
move closer to get a better look, but when he got there she was gone.”

“
So
your story is your brother saw a woman walking in the woods and then lost track
of her? Thrilling…” said the short one that looked much like a dwarf although
Byrn was unsure having never seen one before, “Your brother is a bigger drunk
than you are.”

“
And
you are as hairy as your mother!” retorted Smelly.

“
If
only,” laughed the burly little man with a bounce of his whiskers.

The
men continued their discussion of the “finer” points of their mothers and
facial hair while Byrn pretended to go about his business taking his leave of
them. It was not much of a lead, but it was someplace to start.

The
magician turned stable boy quietly found his way out of the Hasty Rider and
into its stable around back. The stable master was nowhere to be seen, still
gone to market to haggle over the price of oats. Byrn saddled his horse; he
decided to call her Bess. The animal appeared well rested after the hard ride
following the confrontation with the bandits. He climbed into the saddle and
headed off at a trot towards the gates of the city and the forest beyond.

As
he sat in the saddle moving in time with Bess’ leisurely pace Byrn could not
help smiling as he tried to recall the last time he enjoyed such an activity.
Painfully he realized it had been a very long time since he felt the simple joy
of riding a horse. It was a little more than a year ago the last time that Byrn
was able to ride leisurely like this; the morning of the ogres' attack. On that
day he went from a young apprentice courier about to be made a journeyman and
begin making his own way through the world to becoming an apprentice of a
different sort... and more recently a rogue magician.

The
thoughts of that day reminded him of his adoptive parents, Tannys and Marian
Lightfoot. Tannys died because of his son's stupidity and Marian... he did not
know what happened to her. Sane told him that she left Colum and joined his elf
friend to find her own path in life, but he knew little else. Byrn did not
understand why she left the relative safety of her old life at the time, but
given where he was now and what he was doing, Byrn thought he might understand
a little bit now. She needed to feel like she was free to make her own
decisions and find her own path in life just as Byrn was trying to do now.

The
rogue magician nodded to the guardsmen watching the gate on his way out of the
city. Unlike Colum, Lion's Landing was a walled city and there were only two
points of entry by land. The port here allowed goods to be shipped to and from
the North Lands of Aurelia far more quickly than a caravan crossing through the
large island nation could make the trip, making the city a prime target for
bandits like the ones Byrn had faced.

“
Careful
out there, lad,” warned one of the guardsmen. “Rumor is that there is a killer
magician out in those forests. Be sure to stick to the road.”

“
Sounds
dangerous,” Byrn told him hoping that he successfully hid the anticipation he
felt, “Where was this magician spotted? …So I can stay clear of the area.”

“
I
can not say with certainty, but he must be out there,” the guardsman said
resting his hand on the hilt of his sword in its scabbard. Byrn wondered if it
was part of their training that made guardsmen reach for their sword whenever
discussing something they feared or faced a confrontation. “A few days ago a
caravan or at least what was left of one came into town with stories of a
magician named Mag that stowed away from Ilipse and ended up killing a group of
bandits that attacked them before riding off into the forest.

“
Then
last night these two Kenzai hunters came into town looking for an escaped magician
that sounds like it was the one with the caravan.”

“
How
do you know the two were Kenzai and not say bandits trying to sneak into the
city?” Byrn asked attempting to sound skeptical.

The
guardsman thought for a moment as if recalling a memory and then said, “Well I
did not see them, but another guard told me that one of them wore some fancy
armor that glittered in the moonlight. Bandits do not wear such things. If they
did they would either sell it or be killed by other bandits for it.”

“
Sounds
like quite a sight,” said the young magician. “I would like to see such a
thing. Do you know where they are staying?”

“
Afraid
not,” the guardsman scratched his head, “but I doubt they were hurting for
coin. They might be in one of the nicer inns like Molotav's or The Traveler's
Mistress.”

Byrn
thanked the man before leaving. He followed the path for a while until he was
sure that he was out of sight before turning west and heading into the forest.
The urgency to find Avelice was greater now that Byrn knew Sane and Kellen were
so close. To make matters worse the merchants he traveled with were somewhere
in the city spreading stories of the escaped magician, “Mag.” Byrn thought to
place himself at one of the local inns in order to pick up on this kind of
information, but had not thought that he might be exposing himself to a chance
encounter with the merchants or worse the sorcerer and the knight-captain.
Still he should feel lucky that the pair decided to ride back to Lion's Landing
instead of transporting. They probably hoped to find Byrn somewhere along the
road between the two cities.

There
were not many sorcerers in the world and considering that Sane served as the
king's right hand he must be a powerful one as well. The man was somewhat timid
or maybe just good-natured, but if he put his mind to it, then Sane would
surely be a force to be reckoned with.

Kellen
on the other hand was an experienced warrior and Byrn thought he might have
served as a member of the Kenzai at some point. Otherwise why would he be here
instead of leading the guard back in Colum?

Between
the two of them Byrn felt completely outmatched. If they found him…

The
magician pushed such thoughts aside as he strained his hearing for any sounds
that might be human hidden among the sounds of the forest. Ryonus taught him
how to do the simple spell that would allow him to hear sounds beyond what any
normal man could hear and as it was only a slight augmentation to his own body
no blood letting would be necessary. In time Byrn hoped to develop his mastery
over the manipulation discipline enough to the point where his senses would
become permanently augmented like Ryonus. The augmentation became so ingrained
in the master of manipulation that not even the runes of absorption in Baj
could reduce his heightened senses.

Hours
passed as Byrn and his horse, Bess, aimlessly wandered the forest. The sun
would be setting soon, forcing the young elementalist to start heading back
towards the road or risk spending a night lost in the forest. The canopy of
trees was not so thick that Byrn could not chart the course of the sun from
east to west giving him a rough idea of which direction he needed to head in
order to reach the main road, but doing the same thing with only the night sky
as a guide would be nearly impossible.

Suddenly
a giant ogre was upon him from out of nowhere. It’s angry growl signaling its
charge. For a second Byrn puzzled at how it managed to sneak up on him without
making so much as a sound before his survival instinct took over and he decided
that avoiding the monster's blows should be his main concern at the moment.
Byrn kicked Bess into a gallop getting some distance between him and the
gray-green hulk. As he rode at full speed artfully dodging trees he whipped his
knife from his belt and slashed the back of his opposite hand since the cut on
the palm was still healing. Replacing his knife he turned to face the behemoth
and was surprised to see it was not as close as he expected. It had barely
moved since its initial attack.

Byrn
summoned a fire whip as Sane taught him, but found it much more difficult
without the use of a grimoire to focus his power. Conjuring a shield to go with
it would be too much for him to manage. Kicking his heels, rider and horse
charged the ogre at a full gallop. Byrn cracked the whip overhead as he tried
to keep it from falling to his side and accidentally burning him or his mount
before he could reach the ogre.

The
monster raised its fist as Byrn drew near and snapped his flame whip, wrapping
it around the ogre's arm, burning flesh down to the bone, or that was what was
supposed to happen. Instead the flame whip passed through the ogre's arm as if
it was not really there. Then the foul creature shuddered not as a man or beast
would in an involuntary shake. Instead the whole creature moved as if it was
blinking in and out of existence. Suddenly it was gone as quickly as it
appeared and was replaced by a small creature that looked to be the offspring
of a cat and squirrel that stood on two stumpy legs.

“
Hold,
magician!” said the voice of a young man about the same age as Byrn. He wore a
black cloak and had well groomed sandy blonde hair. The cat-squirrel ran to him
and scurried up his cloak until it rested on his shoulder. “I mean you no harm.
It was my intention to drive you off. I thought you were a bandit or lost
traveler, but now I can see that you are more than that.

“
Who
are you and why are you here?”

Byrn
saw the other magician's staff and could not help feeling a pang of jealousy
over the fine weapon as his own hand was bleeding onto his trousers and boot.
“My name is Byrn Lightfoot. I came here on rumors of a magician in this area. I
am seeking a lady by the name of Avelice Necros.”

“
I
am Turshyn,” the black robed magician absently patted the creature on his
shoulder, “I wish I could help, but I have not heard of the lady you seek.”

“
Perhaps
you could still be of some help. I am in need of a staff or grimoire or
anything really that might be of help to a rogue magician. Almost two weeks ago
I escaped from Baj Prison and now I am in hiding from my former master and
another man who may have been one of the Kenzai,” Byrn told him thinking he had
nothing to lose by confiding in another magician that was already hiding in the
forest.

“
Baj
is far to the north,” said Turshyn. “What brings you to Lion's Landing in
particular?”

“
It
is half luck that my escape led me here, but I was also directed to go to
Lion's Landing and seek out Avelice Necros by one of my cellmates, Xander
Necros.”

Turshyn
thought for a minute before he next spoke, his face revealing nothing. Finally
he said, “I need to consider what can be done. Tell me where you are staying
and someone will come to speak with you tonight if there is any help I can
render.”

“
I
am working as the stable boy at The Hasty Rider,” Byrn said and a moment later
added, “and sleeping in the stables. My bunk is on an overhang above the
horses.”

After
exchanging farewells Byrn left Turshyn and found his way back to the road just
before dark. He returned to the stables and listened to the master who shared
many of an ogre's qualities himself, especially in the areas of smell and
intelligence, berate his new stable boy for disappearing for most of the day.
Eventually the stable master got tired of yelling at Byrn and left, finally
heading off to the inn for a mug of ale.

Byrn
was awakened
by
a high-pitched, but melodic voice in his ear. “Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey,”
giggled the voice childishly. When Byrn opened his eyes he found he was in the
presence of a tiny winged woman covered in a soft yellow glow.

“
Are
you a fairy?” Byrn asked still half asleep.

“
Close
enough,” the glowing woman conceded. “You are Byrn Lightfoot.”