Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) (28 page)

It
was Tomlin who volunteered to find the collar. If he acted swiftly, then he
could steal the collar before a strong security network was in place. His plan
was to pose as a bard at the festival of Sunshillah and put the dwarf, Eryk Axebeard,
who was guarding the collar under a charm called Learion's Gift. Learion’s Gift
was a spell that would compel the affected person to reveal whatever thoughts
came to mind like the location of the magic collar.

Weaving
the spell into the ballad of
The Tale of
the Undead Isle
was a simple enough task even for one of Tomlin's limited
magical talents, but the girls were a complication he did not expect. Who could
have anticipated a pair of attractive lady magicians getting involved and
throwing his plans into chaos? He simply had to find the collar, steal it, and
bring it back to the Collective. Now Tomlin had only a few minutes before being
discovered and getting killed or worse- collared like the girl sitting in the
chair.

Most
magicians would probably throw a lightning bolt or summon a specter to do his
fighting for him, but Tomlin was an enchanter. Although he was adept in his own
discipline, Tomlin did not have much talent for the other schools of magic.
Usually enchantment was a very useful talent, but against active Kenzai patrols
their effectiveness would be severely limited if not utterly useless. The
hunters' swords would dampen any enchantments he cast before the spell could
take full effect and signal to the rest of the hunters his general location.

Tomlin
climbed to the top of a rack near the wall, but not to hide from the hunters.
He reasoned that if he was going to get himself killed he might as well do it
spectacularly. Pushing with his feet against the wall the rack started to tip
forward picking up momentum as he scurried to the top and jumped for a beam in
the ceiling. His aim was true and the bard pulled himself up with ease. A life
living on the streets had trained him to be strong, fast, and agile. Those were
skills that no magic sword or Kenzai art could take away.

Tomlin
crawled along the beam furiously to the other end of the warehouse as the
shelves fell over in a domino effect killing several hunters searching between
those racks. Predictably the remaining hunters rushed over to where the
shelving first started to fall leaving Tomlin above the magician girl and the
two dwarves.

The
swashbuckler in him wanted to pull out his knife and jump down from the rafters
onto the dwarves, but the saner side convinced him that climbing down the
nearby racking quickly but carefully was the option that would not leave him
with two broken legs.

Tomlin
sprang on Eryk with his knife drawn burying it to the hilt into the side of the
rod bearer's neck. The dead dwarf slumped to the side and Tomlin grabbed the
control rod with his free hand as he pulled his blade free. Turning to the
woman wearing the collar he said, “Take your collar off, my lady, and please
hand it to me,” and winked at her.

The
prisoner gladly undid the clasp while Tomlin was on the other dwarf before he
could alert the hunters that they were about to lose their new toy. A slash of
Tomlin’s dirk left the blonde dwarf clutching wildly at his neck for a second
before he fell down dead alongside his friend. When Tomlin turned back a grateful
woman held the collar in her outstretched hand.

“
Thank
you. My name is Mellani,” the girl told him handing over the collar.

“
A
pleasure, my lady. I am Tomlin the Bard. Do you know any offensive spells?” he
asked hurriedly turning his attention to the three remaining magician hunters
including the one called Blackwing.

Mellani
nodded, “Some, but he has my grimoire,” indicating Sir Blackwing.

Tomlin
pulled his own spellbook from his cloak and handed it to Mellani. “Some magic
is better than none, I guess.”

The
bard looked Mellani in the eyes and felt his fellow magician's fear and
uncertainty. She looked a few years older, but had none of the hardness that
Tomlin possessed. In some small way he envied her for that. Holding her gaze,
he told Mellani in no uncertain terms, “We can not let any of them live. This
collar is a prototype. If its creator learns how well it works he will make
hundreds of these and put one around the neck of every magician locked away in
a domain or in Baj and turn them all into slaves bent on hunting down the rest
of us with their own magician army. Do you understand?”

Mellani
nodded in agreement, “You paint a vivid picture,” and began to cast a spell. A
moment later a gust of wind flew from her hand knocking the three hunters off
their feet.

Tomlin
seized the opportunity and made a mad dash for the nearest hunter and stabbed
him with several quick but deep lunges into his gut before he could get up. He
was about to move onto the next hunter, but they were both back on their feet
already and ready to fight.

Blackwing
shouted, “Handle the boy! I will take care of the magician!” Blackwing charged
towards Mellani holding his sword in front of him as if it was a shield as well
as a weapon. She shot another gust of wind at him, but his blade cut through it
absorbing and warding against the magic as Blackwing cut the distance between
them.

“
Your
master does not consider me much of a threat.” Tomlin told his opponent
swinging his knife in short erratic arcs forcing the hunter to clumsily block
over and over again. Tomlin knew that the Kenzai was unable to match his speed
and as long as he did not let up with his attacks eventually the warrior would
falter. “You will pay for his mistake.”

Tomlin
stepped in under the Kenzai's sloppy parry to an obviously wide dagger swing
and slashed the hunter's throat causing him to spurt blood before collapsing,
dead, to the floor.

He
turned to see Mellani pressed against a wall. A wavering shield projection was
the only thing between her and the bright blue glow of Blackwing's sword
clashing against the construct.

The
distance in knife lengths was difficult to judge in the space of a second, but
Tomlin took a guess and holding the knife by its blade flung it at Blackwing’s
back where it found a resting place. Blackwing fell to his hands and knees with
a scream of agony.

Mellani
looked relieved as she dropped her shield to Tomlin's utter surprise. “No!” he
screamed running towards her and when she looked back to Blackwing she
understood that the Kenzai warrior was down, but not defeated as the tip of his
blade came rushing at her face.

She
held her hand up as if in protest and the deadly warrior dropped his sword and
fell to his side. Mellani grabbed the sword and pulled the man's knife from its
scabbard just to be safe.

Tomlin
came to stand beside Mellani and held his hand out for the sword, “Do you want
me to do it?” The harried woman handed over the sword without a word. “Your
opponent fell to his knees not the ground meaning he still had some strength to
fight despite the pain. He also never dropped his weapon making him still a
danger to anyone nearby.” The bard unceremoniously stabbed Blackwing through
the back so that his sword came out the other side. When Tomlin was sure that
Blackwing was no more he retrieved his knife and wiped the blood off with the
hunter's cloak. “What did you do to him when you raised your hand?”

“
It
was a mental suggestion that he fall asleep,” she told him without pride.
Tomlin wondered if she was still in shock.

After
rifling through the corpse's clothing Tomlin found Mellani's grimoire. He held
it up and asked, “Do you want to trade?” with a smooth smile and Mellani
covered her mouth to stifle a laugh that was born from a feeling of uneasy
relief.

The
magicians surveyed the warehouse and in addition to the collar they found a
strange weapon that looked like a short tube with a handle. Tomlin read the
description on the destroyed cargo crate, “Hand cannons? There must be hundreds
of these here. The collar is a prototype device, but these are being made in
mass. The dwarves have been busy.”

“
How
does it work?” Mellani asked.

“
I
have no idea,” Tomlin told her, stuffing one into an inner pocket of his cloak,
“but I plan to find out. We are going to try and figure out how these things
work so that we know how to counter them.”

“
Who
is ‘
we
’
?” Mellani asked, “I thought I knew all of
the magicians near Lion’s Landing.”

“
I
meant ‘
we
’
as in magicians in general,”
Tomlin lied, “and I am not from around here.” More than that, Tomlin would not
reveal.

When
they left the warehouse they were greeted by the arrival of four more
magicians: the cute girl that was with Mellani earlier and three boys although
one was a few years older than the rest.

“
Turshyn!”
Mellani yelled and ran into the eldest boy’s arms. The other girl hugged them
both and started to cry joyfully while Tomlin and the other teenage boys looked
on.

“
You
need to get out of here before more Kenzai arrive,” Tomlin told the other young
magicians. He pulled the lute from his back and began to tune the strings as he
walked away heading north towards the square and the relative safety of the
crowds.

Mellani
stopped him, “Tomlin, would you like to come with us? We have a safe haven not
far from here if you need someplace to hide.”

“
Thank
you for your generosity, Mellani, but I am under strict orders to give your
school a wide berth,” the bard told her as he walked off.

“
By
who?” Mellani asked, but Tomlin only turned and waved goodbye with a roguish
grin before he disappeared down a side street.

Alia
was a difficult taskmaster to be certain, but when he looked at these other
magicians he was forced to acknowledge the effectiveness of her cutthroat
ideology. Being completely limited to enchantment spells he had no doubt that
the other apprentices he just met were more powerful than him in the magical
arts. He also had no doubt that they were not used to hard living and had
little understanding of just how dangerous the world is and how precarious
their positions in it truly were. They were just as his master had described
them.

Gilkame
Axebeard was not difficult for Marian to track down. All it took was a few
coins in the pocket of a young courier and Marian found a guide willing to take
her to his workshop. However, she did not expect the high level of security
guarding the dwarf. There was a pair of guards at the front door and another at
the back. She saw two more pass windows inside the workshop and guessed there
could be at least another pair keeping an eye on the shop from perches a safe
distance away with bows in hand. Clearly Draker's assertion that Gilkame was
more than just a jeweler was well founded.

Marian
surveyed the area and found a possible point of entry through a window halfway
between the front and back doors that would not be visible from either
position. The guards patrolling the interior would only pass by once every few
minutes leaving a gap in their protection. Of course such an entry would only
be possible if it were during the late hours of night and at the moment it was
still before noon. Then again the ranger was not here to breach the dwarf's
security.

Marian
Lightfoot stood before Gilkame's workshop in a more official capacity. Her hair
was freshly washed and she wore a brown cloak made of an elven material that
seemed to shimmer in the sun covering her ceremonial leather armor, giving her
the look of a noble warrior. Dwarven society was very rigid when it came to
nobility and castes and most dwarves were very respectful of the ruling classes
whether it was a dwarf, human, or elf noble and warriors of noble birth were
held in even higher regard.

“
I
seek an audience with the dwarf, Gilkame Axebeard,” Marian declared to the
guards posted at the front entrance.

The
guardsman to her left looked the ranger up and down. Judging her to be of
sufficient importance, he asked politely, “Who should I tell him is asking, my
lady?”

“
Tell
him that Marian Lightfoot is here on behalf of Warlord Ethiel Nightwind of the
North Lands Western Province,” she said returning the guard's respect, but
maintaining an air of cold formality that she had come to associate with most
nobles.

“
A
call from a warlord's herald is quite unexpected,” the guard said carefully
choosing his words, “May I inquire as to the reason for your visit?”

Disarming
him with her smile Marian said, “You may inquire, but I can not answer. Rest
assured Gilkame Axebeard is not in any trouble, but I do need to speak with him
urgently.”

“
Of
course, my lady.” The guard bowed and disappeared inside the workshop. A minute
later he returned and escorted Marian to a small study near the entrance where
they found the stout dwarf waiting. She was a little disappointed that she
would not get a better look around Gilkame's workshop after everything Draker
had said.

Gilkame
stood in the middle of the room with his chest puffed out and his hands behind
his back trying to look as dignified as possible despite the sweat in his long
black beard and coal smudges on his hands, pants, and shirt. After exchanging
pleasantries and apologizing for his unkempt appearance Gilkame asked, “How may
I help you, my lady?” motioning for Marian to sit in a chair while he took the
one opposite it behind a writing desk. There were books scattered across the
table haphazardly on subjects ranging from metalworking to magical
enchantments.