The Lords of Anavar (21 page)

"Have we been seen?" asked Alec Endria.

"Not yet. What colors?"

"Bors Taria. Come we might as well hail them. Look! The tall man with the blue cape. Bors Taria himself. He knows me."

"Good fortune to us."

"I did not say he liked me. Come, we have no better alternative. Besides, he can send word to Queen Beatrice. If Zae Pol and Lars Vokas have spoken with her, then assistance should come speedily."

At their hail the riders changed direction quickly and encircled them. The tall black bearded man rode forward and waited. All the riders waited silently too.

"Bors Taria, I am Alec Endria. Do you know me?"

"I do."

"There is trouble at the castle and Yanor and myself escaped."

"I see that. How did you escape?"

"There is a tunnel from the castle to those caves behind us."

"A tunnel to my property? Why was I not informed of this tunnel?"

"I cannot answer. Tyman Stile was the head of the Council and kept counsel on such things."

"Was? There is much to your story that I must hear. However, this is not the place." He signaled to two men who pulled the Mages up behind them. "We shall go to my estate. I trust the people there. I was going to Lathor in response to a merchant's request, but I believe you will provide what I need to know."

They rode hard for the remainder of the morning, resting briefly, until they came to a sprawling house surrounded by eight-foot walls. Guards patrolled the top of the wall and several men raced out to help with the horses.

"Bors!" A lean man waved as he ran from the house.

"Kal! When did you arrive?" They hugged.

"Just after you left, it seems. What brought you back?"

"I found some answers on the road. Allow me to the introductions. This is my brother, Kal Taria, a knight of Queen Beatrice's court. I bring to my home two Mages, Alec Endria and Yanor."

"I know of you, Kal Taria," said Alec Endria.

"Only good I trust."

"Would Princess Alicae say otherwise of you?"

Kal laughed heartily. "By the heavens, no. She is a wonderful young lady. I am humbled that she would speak of me you. How is Artus?"

"That is part of my tale, which should be told in full to Bors Taria."

"Let us begin it, then," said Bors Taria. "Come, Kal, join us."

Curtains lined the gathering hall in subdued colors, not the bright scenes loved by Queen Beatrice and the people of Finald. Bors Taria thought himself a farmer, although a wealthy one. He had no urge to spend lavishly. His household was furnished for comfort, not style. Let the nobles in Finald waste their resources; Bors Taria spent only what was necessary.

When Alec Endria finished their tale, Bors Taria cursed and stared out the window for several minutes.

"I heard rumor that Curesia's army had marched on Finald and should reach it by tomorrow. I fear this is all connected somehow."

"We must go to Curesia to find Gerrand," said Yanor.

"I do not think so. According to your words, Gerrand has the power to fight Macelan, you do not. You would be safer here. Plus, Curesia is at war with Wierland. I cannot allow you to foolishly endanger your lives."

"Bors," said Alec Endria. "We are Mages. We are capable of defending ourselves."

"I know. I would feel better knowing you are here to help defend Curesia."

"That's fine for Alec, but Calendia is my home," said Yanor.

"Perhaps Curesia will attack Calendia next. Help us defeat them and protect your home in the bargain."

"Are you giving me a choice?" asked Yanor, his anger rising. Alec Endria put a hand on Yanor's wrist, but Yanor pulled it away.

"No. I am sorry, but I cannot give you a choice. Wierland comes first in my responsibility. I shall not allow other considerations to affect my decisions. I hope you can understand that for I have no other words to offer."

"I understand," snapped Yanor. He walked to the other side of the room, his teeth clenched. Alec Endria shrugged his shoulders.

"You usually have more to say, Alec."

"Nothing you said gives me cause to argue. I know I should seek Gerrand, but your assessment of our abilities is correct. However, you have to consider three areas. One is the Curesia army, another is Petyr Wolk's activities in Curesia, and more important; the situation at Lathor Castle. Whatever power is awake there has taken Techna Vole, Cehana and Tyman Stile without apparent effort. I do not know how to fight it. I can only ask Gerrand for assistance."

"I see." Bors Taria glanced at the back of Yanor and sat next to Alec Endria. "What I see is an enormous cloud descending on us and choking us. There are too many weak points in our defense. If Gerrand can sense where each of you are, can he send you messages? If he can, are you able to send messages to him in return?"

"I do not know. I have never tried it. He revealed his power to us only recently. No one knows all the aspects of him, save Gerrand of course."

"Do you realize how often you Mages say that something is unknown, except perhaps for Gerrand's knowledge? Have any of you sat down with that sorcerer and tried to find out what it is that he knows? There must be centuries of information that he will not give you unless you ask. Has no one asked?"

Alec Endria blushed. "You make us sound like idiots."

"Am I wrong?"

The Mages did not answer. A servant brought wine and bread. Alec Endria ignored the bread. Yanor ignored both. Bors Taria sent messengers to his neighbors and spent several minutes composing a message to Queen Beatrice.

"This is a difficult letter. I have never denied the Queen anything and now I must inform her that I will not send her help. I trust your word on this, Alec. Do you feel I am placing my faith in you justly?"

"I do. I have never been so serious."

"Good. I have nearly five hundred men at my disposal. They are well trained."

"I have twenty knights with me," said Kal Taria. "I will stay and help."

Bors Taria looked at his brother. "I was hoping you would take this letter to the Queen. I do not trust any other to do it."

The brothers faced each other. Kal Taria shook his head.

"Father sent me away once, do you remember? The raiders had been sighted and he wanted to face them without me. I shall not let you die the same way."

"You couldn't have saved father."

"We will never know, because I did not have the chance to try. I will not make the mistake again."

"Well then, take command of my men as well. Send word to Lathor for everyone to distance themselves from the castle. Soldiers and knight have no power against the like of Macelan. At the very least we must remove the people from harm's way, if possible. Offer them the choice of coming here, but tell them to bring as much supplies as they can carry. We do not how long they may be here and our supplies are limited. We shall send scouts to monitor the progress of Warlord Menn, but no engagements; surveillance only.

"The threat from the castle must be watched constantly and I will need either Alec or Yanor to accompany those men. The remaining Mage shall try to contact Gerrand and find out what in blazes is going on in this world. We need to know if there is anything we can do to help Gerrand's endeavors."

"Excellent thoughts," said Yanor. "I will do as you ask."

"I will search for Gerrand," said Alec Endria. "I might be able to reach Artus easier, and Gerrand may have contacted him by now."

Kal Taria departed on his mission. Bors Taria watched until Kal's figure dwindled into the distance. He exhaled, pulled a green glowing knife out of his shirt and brought it down with both hands into Yanor's back. The Mage groaned softly, and then fell to the floor. Alec Endria jumped back, his power rising around him, but it was too late. His power fell around him and evaporated before Bors Taria's bright green eyes.

"Thank you for leading me to this man. He has the necessary position and personal power I require."

"Why didn't you use Petyr Wolk's body," stammered Alec Endria.

"Too powerful. I could not fully conquer him, but he is my servant. You see my body still lies in that cave in Curesia. Nothing Wolk could do would animate it. So he brought me one of his soldiers and I made him mine."

"You can jump from body to body?"

"Exactly. This is the type of information Gerrand withheld from you. There is more knowledge in that bald head of his than anywhere in the world. Why, I bet he even knows more than me. Believe that, if you will."

"Why did you let Kal go?"

"I cannot make Bors kill his own brother. There are limits, but I shall find a way around them, I always do."

"What about Gerrand?"

"Yes, what about him? I shall keep him so busy he will never discover my true plans. He always hated loose ends. I shall leave him many loose ends. It will drive him to distraction."

"What are your plans?"

"Alec Endria. Do not think you are clever. I know you try to gather as much information as possible in the event of your escape so you can tell Gerrand what he needs to know. You will never escape, just as your son will never escape Petyr Wolk."

"Artus? What of Artus?"

"He has sold his soul to Petyr Wolk. As we speak he is torturing little Faeya Ryr. I shall try to do as well with you. Imagine both Endria Mages devout servants. It's enough to brighten my day; don't you think?"

Alec tried to leap at Bors Taria, but he couldn't move. Bors Taria started to laugh and the laughter found its way inside Alec Endria, deadening his nerves and washing despair over his soul.

"Even now the spell Tyman Stile wove about your precious castle is collapsing back upon it, absorbing it, dissolving all life within. Alas only Tyman Stile and Cehana were still alive inside its walls, but no matter, you Mages will succumb soon enough."

Alec Endria could endure no more and let his mind go as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Deah Vole fought back the nausea. His failures rose before him and he saw the people die, saw the disappointments of his dead wife turn her inward and waste away. All the hidden things, he so carefully shielded from himself, crawled out from under their rocks. He felt himself shrink from the disappointment in the faces of those he loved. He felt tears well up in his eyes and his vision blurred. The voice of his wife, abandoned years ago, cried out for him. Her agony cut into him deep to his bones baring his marrow to the chilling air. The pain shot through his body in a moment. Even his eyelids ached.

Vaguely, he remembered entering a cave with Faeya Ryr. Was he still holding her hand? He did not know, nor could he see his hand anymore. He could not tell if he supported his own weight. Did his feet touch the ground? Where was he? He heard Artus Endria's voice whispering to him and he flinched, aware of his abandonment of Endria. "I had no choice!" he cried out in his mind. Artus pushed those words aside. Artus wanted to help. Relax, relax.

Finally, Deah Vole stopped fighting the entity that called itself Artus Endria. Deah allowed the voice to take control and felt himself floating above the turmoil that had engulfed him. The aches left his body and his vision began to return. The dimly lit cave sparkled with the spell showing Deah Vole the limits to the spell. He felt something in his hand and turned to see Faeya Ryr, tears streaming down her face. Her mouth moved but no words came out. He shook her and called to her. Her eyes stared into some distance horror. He stood in front of her gaze but she did not seem to notice the change. He covered her eyes with his hand and whispered the words Artus Endria taught him.

Her body shuddered, and then collapsed into his arms.

He held her in the dark as the lights of the spell flickered out. Deah Vole expected Petyr Wolk to enter the cave after the spell dissipated. He did not know if Artus could help them anymore. He tried to wake Faeya Ryr. She murmured something, but he could not understand the words. He set her down on the cold floor of the cave and waited.

Three quarters of an hour later he lifted her up and carried her back to the entrance of the cave. After the torment of his mind he did not hesitate to boldly walk out in the open air. He stood at the entrance looking around for movement. Apparently, their pursuers gave up on them. Of course, he had no way of knowing how long they spent in the cave.

A trail led up through the rocks above the cave. He carried Faeya Ryr up the slope and his breath labored as he reached the top. Below him he saw signs of a camp, probably Wolk's. He left her under a tree and went down to investigate. The camp had been occupied only a couple days earlier and he saw boot prints to match Artus Endria's boots. He grinned. He went back to Faeya Ryr and carried her down to the camp. There was still fuel for a fire and running water just over the rise. Sheltered from the wind, they would rest at least one night before following Wolk's company.

Deah Vole knew better than to sleep without a guard, but he was so tired and Faeya Ryr had not awakened yet. He had no choice. He did not think he could stay awake anyway. He propped her up against a log and leaned his shoulder on hers. He watched the growing darkness and shivered against the creeping chill. A fire would have been wonderful, but he could not tend it and it would attract attention. He did not know how far ahead Petyr Wolk traveled. It would not help them to call Wolk back while they slept. He watched the stars sparkle through the wisps of clouds as the sky darkened. He felt himself falling.

When Deah Vole opened his eyes, a fire blazed before him and he smelled something tasty cooking. Faeya Ryr crouched near the fire roasting something on a spit.

"Am I dreaming? It smells like venison."

"It is venison."

"We have no weapons-how did you kill a deer?"

"I am a Mage. Did you forget already?"

"No, no. I'm still sluggish this morning. And.."

"Afternoon. This is dinner I'm cooking. I woke with the dawn as I always do and was pleasantly surprised to find us here. How did we escape?"

"I'm not sure, but Artus had something to do with it. I remember hearing his voice whispering in my head and then the spell began to dissolve. I carried you out here and found Wolk had left a couple days earlier. I don't know how long we were in there."