The Warrior Mage (The Lost Prophecy Book 2) Read online

  “Why interesting?” It seemed an unusual choice of words from her.

  “I've heard the king has a new advisor, and he's not all that interested in hearing opposing points of view.”

  That was the first that Locken had heard of Richard having another advisor, and it surprised him. Since he had dismissed his Mage advisor, Richard had not allowed anyone into the throne room other than the regional kings. What did it mean that he now did?

  Probably nothing, but given all the upheaval in the south, it was possible that there was more to this advisor than his sister knew. Locken would have to be careful.

  “You heard the prince went with the Magi?” Bryana asked.

  Locken nodded.

  “I doubt Richard appreciated the Magi claiming one of his.”

  “Allay is second in line. Besides, there is little harm in having him learn from the Magi. I spent some time in Vasha myself.”

  Bryana sipped her wine. “Yes. Learning from the Denraen. This is different. Richard is different. You should be careful. Things have changed since you last were here. Saeline is much closer to Thealon, geographically and ideologically, though we are almost in the south.”

  He started to laugh, but realized she didn’t share it. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that you must be careful.”

  “I have men with me.”

  “This is a different kind of caution. After you meet with Richard, you will see.”

  Locken didn’t care for the ominous note to her comment, but Bryana didn’t elaborate. Instead, she took another long sip of wine.

  Chapter Four

  Roelle sat by the campfire, sweat gleaming from her brow, her sword resting on the ground next to her. She leaned back, letting the soft, cool northern breeze blow through her hair, and watched the two Magi as they practiced with the wooden practice staves. It had been two days since she had begun working with the Magi, demonstrating the various patterns that she had learned from Endric in her time traveling with him, two days since she had effectively taken up the mantle as swordmaster, and many more days since they had left the mountains of their homeland behind them.

  By day, they traveled along a narrow hard-packed road. The scenery consisted of rolling grasslands dotted with the occasional twisted tree. To the west, rose the Shariin Mountain chain, with Vasha in the middle of it. Roelle could still feel the pull of her home upon her, though they moved far enough away that it now looked no different from any of the other snowcapped peaks.

  Selton sat on the other side of the fire, and she watched him chewing on a hunk of venison. The soldiers sent with them by Endric had proven to be skilled hunters, something Roelle hadn't planned for, though she suspected Endric had. So tonight they fed on fresh venison, but they had brought enough dried meat and other supplies to keep them fed for the better part of two weeks, probably long enough for them to reach the north, find the Antrilii, and return to their home, but not much more than that. She wondered if Endric had anticipated delay. So far they had barely broken into their store of supplies.

  The practice staves clacked regularly, drawing her attention, and she watched as Jhun and Jimson worked with the sword. Both danced with a fluid grace, though they might not know the catahs quite as well as she did, they still had grown in skill.

  “The general was right. You Magi really do have a gift.”

  Roelle looked over to see Hester watching the Magi. He was one of the soldiers sent with them, and had proven adept with his bow, bringing down both deer and hare with equal skill. He chewed on a bone, a little trail of grease running down his chin, his brow furrowed as he stared against the darkness and watched the two Magi working, every so often rubbing his hand along his graying temple, and scratching at the scars on his face.

  “What do you mean, the general was right?” Selton asked.

  Hester shrugged. “Only that he suspected even those with minimal skill would develop quickly on your journey.”

  “Did he tell you that?” Selton asked Roelle.

  She shook her head slowly. Endric wasn't much for words when it came to things like that. He'd given her the book on strategy and tactics, though she didn't really expect that he thought her to need it.

  Yet… She wondered. He had made certain to send with her men able to provide what she could not. He'd sent hunters, men able to help with keeping the camp fed, and men who would serve as guides, helping them find their way north. What else might he have planned on her behalf?

  The thought made her smile.

  “The gods have given us gifts,” Roelle said, leaning back on her elbows.

  Hester chuckled. He had a grizzled face, one that told her he had seen much in his days. She knew him to have scarred arms, one with a chunk of flesh missing. Many of the Denraen bore scars. It was something of a badge of honor to them. She hadn't been surprised to see that Hester had them as well.

  “Yeah? The gods saw fit to give me this face. I can't help it the women find me so beautiful.”

  Lendra coughed and covered her mouth with her hand.

  Selton chuckled as he fingered the hilt of his sword. “I think Endric sent you with us to get rid of you. Maybe he did it to torment us.”

  Hester shrugged. “Maybe. I think he got tired of me guffin’ off to him. You know the general, he's not the kind to take too lightly to someone questioning him.”

  Selton arched a brow. “You questioned Endric?”

  “Mostly his plan for you.”

  Selton looked over to Roelle. “Is that what he told you?” She gave him a shrug and returned her attention to the Magi practicing.

  Roelle stared at the pair. Jhun managed to connect twice, once on the arm and once on the leg, and Jimson dropped the practice stave. She stepped back, and he remain crouching.

  Roelle leapt to her feet and made her way out to the practice area. She grabbed Jimson's practice stave, and brought it up and caught Jhun. She attacked several times quickly, running through a series of forms faster than what Jhun could counter. The woman dropped her stave, and Roelle sliced at her neck, a killing blow.

  “Never take a step back until you have finished your opponent,” Roelle said.

  Jhun offered a half smile. She her hands raised in front of her in surrender. A strand of her thick, black hair hung across her face, obscuring one of her eyes. “Roelle… This is Jimson. I'm not trying to kill him.”

  Roelle looked from Jhun to Jimson.

  The young man dusted himself off and stood, looking at Roelle with an amused glint in his eyes. He chuckled softly, his laughter merging with that of Jhun. “This is just practice, Roelle. A game.”

  “Practice? This was not the kind of practice you need. Real practice is what allowed me to survive when I faced the Deshmahne. Real practice kept me alive when they came in numbers more than what even the Denraen could oppose. If you don't take practice seriously, what will happen when we face a real opponent?”

  Jhun’s smile faded as she nodded slowly. “Like the Deshmahne?”

  Roelle nodded. “Like the Deshmahne. We don’t know how far north they’ve reached. If we come across them, do you think the four Denraen with us will be enough to stop them?”

  It wasn’t only the Deshmahne she worried about. She had a feeling that whatever the rumors spoke of in the north, it was something other than the Deshmahne. Perhaps it was this mysterious ancient threat her uncle feared. If it was, and if they came across it before they found the Antrilii, they needed to be prepared. Which meant fighting with real intent behind it, practicing as though their lives depended on it.

  “Now, practice again.” She tossed the practice stave back to Jimson, who caught it. He stared at Roelle with an incredulous look on his face that she ignored.

  Roelle made her way back toward Selton and the others and took her seat. She noted that Jhun nudged Jimson with her practice stave, urging him to fight again. They began their practice again, this time with renewed intensity.

  “Don't you think tha
t was a bit much?” Selton asked. “It's not like we’re going to find the Deshmahne in the north. Even Endric said that they'd been pushed back south again. If anything, all we’re going to find will be a collection of nomadic horse warriors, and that’s if we’re lucky.”

  Roelle stared at the ground in front of her. Had she been too hard? She didn’t think so. These people hadn’t encountered the Deshmahne. They hadn’t seen the way the warrior priests could move. Had she not prepared, it was possible that she would have died that day. Wasn’t it her responsibility to see that they were ready?

  “You haven't faced them before. You don't understand what it's like when you must make the decision about whether to attack and use what you've learned to take a life. They need to be prepared.”

  Selton studied her for a moment, nodding slightly as he did, but saying nothing. He had taken her at her word about what she had seen when she traveled out of the city with Elder Haerlin. She had assumed that he believed her, but it was possible that Selton still struggled with what she'd shared. It was possible that he didn't really believe the Deshmahne to be the threat that they were, or even that they might encounter something worse.

  Roelle looked around at the other Magi collected in the camp. Many seemed to make a point of not watching her. How many others were like Selton?

  Had she made a mistake? She thought they had come because they believed what she had shared, that they agreed there was a need for those with their abilities, those who could counter the Deshmahne or something worse, but what if they came for a different reason, the same reason she’d left Vasha when offered the chance to go with Haerlin?

  She knew how she had felt when she first left the city. That had been something of an adventure, little more than that. Few Magi ever left the city while training, and when they did, it was rarely to travel quite as far as she had gone.

  But then… Then she’d encountered the Deshmahne.

  Seeing that threat, witnessing for herself the destruction they caused, the disregard for life and peace, had shown her the need for… something. Roelle still wasn't sure what that something was.

  Selton stood. “I think I'm going to get some rest. Long days in the saddle, you know?”

  Roelle nodded. The long days in the saddle had worn her out as well. She suspected Selton was going to bed for another reason, though she didn't blame him. With each day on the road, their friendship changed, though she wasn’t certain quite how.

  Selton made his way toward the tent he had claimed, disappearing inside. Lendra stared into the darkness after him before getting up and following him. She had taken to camping with Selton, mostly to keep her familiarity with her cousin. Their departure left Roelle alone with Hester.

  Hester scooted close to her, saying nothing as he stared at the campfire. After a while, he coughed and cleared his throat. “That was something the general would have done.”

  “What's that? Scare off my friend?”

  Hester laughed, his rough voice breaking the silence of the night. A few of the Magi glanced over at the sound. “No. Though I have seen him chase Pendin away more than once. Those two are thick as thieves most of the time.”

  Roelle had a hard time imagining Endric and his Raen as “thick as thieves.” Had they been friends first? She had a hard time imagining Endric as anything other than the stern man she’d not really gotten to know. “Then what?”

  Hester nodded toward the practice yard. “What you did there. That was something the general would have done. He always felt that if you were going to hold the sword, you had to be ready to use it, and end whatever fight you were in.”

  “That's just the problem. Most people here don't seem to think we’re going to see any action.”

  “Scouting. That was what Endric told me too. But things tend to go awry, and it would be good if you make your team ready.”

  “You don't think we're capable?” Roelle asked.

  “It's not a matter of capability. It's a matter of the fighting.”

  Roelle arched a brow at Hester. “I thought the Denraen enjoyed their battles. You're telling me that you would rather not fight.”

  He frowned at her. “You’re one of the Magi. You understand the Urmahne.”

  “What does that have to do with this?”

  “Don't you think the Denraen want peace as well? We serve the Urmahne. That's our entire purpose. We fight to maintain peace so that others don't have to.”

  Roelle hadn't given much thought to the Denraen and their attitudes toward their role. The more she did, she realized that what Hester said must be true. The Denraen did serve the Urmahne. That servitude allowed the Magi to have peace and protection, just as they helped maintain peace throughout the land.

  Well, at least the north these days. The south had been taken over by the Deshmahne. And the Magi had allowed it. At least the Council seemed ready to change that if the delegates they chose did as intended.

  “What do you think is in the north?” Roelle asked.

  Hester turned toward the north, the firelight reflected in his eyes. He stared for a long while, sniffing at the air. “Last patrol I took was probably a year ago,” he started slowly. His voice was hushed, and she had to strain to hear him. “Even then, there were stories starting to come. Strange attacks. Most on my patrol thought it was animals. The north has wolves and other things…” He shook his head. “Most just assumed those attacks were related to that sort of creature.”

  “And now?” Roelle asked. “You think there's something different out there?”

  “Don't really know. As I said, my last patrol was a year ago. Lately, I've been in the city, spending my days teaching.”

  “But you're afraid of something. I can see it on your face.”

  Hester didn't look back at her, but nodded slowly. “Aye. I'm afraid of many things. Stories like I hear… Something like that will make any man nervous. Even the most hardened.

  “Is it the Deshmahne? Do they scare you?”

  Hester turned back to her. A hint of a smile played at his lips. “I've faced Deshmahne before. Many of them are skilled with the sword, but they’re only men. They can be defeated.”

  Roelle waited for him to elaborate, but he did not. The fire crackled softly, and there came a distant hooting of an owl. Some in Vasha would call that bad luck. “How many of you have faced the Deshmahne?”

  “How many of the Denraen?”

  “No. How many of the soldiers Endric sent with me have faced them.”

  Hester’s smile faded. “All of us.”

  She wasn’t surprised. Similar to Endric’s plan to use the soldiers to help us with hunting and guiding, it seemed he’d sent men with experience fighting the Deshmahne too. But what was the look of fear she saw on Hester's face when he spoke of the rumors out of the north? Whatever he knew was more than what had been shared with her.

  Had Endric shared with Alriyn? Had Novan known?

  Hester broke the silence. “You keep working with them. I think the general saw a bit of himself in you.” With that, Hester stood and started away, his slight limp notable in the fading light.

  Roelle sat back, staring at the crackling flames, smelling the hint of fall in the air, that of changing leaves, earth, and the dry grass, and wondered whether traveling to the north, attempting to find the Antrilii was right. It was the question that had plagued her from the beginning, even after Endric suggested she learn about her Founders.

  As she stared at the fire, she wondered… what would her Founders have done?

  Chapter Five

  Roelle studied the small village that appeared in the distance. There was a low wall, built with river rock that looked to be about waist high. Thatched roofs were visible, as well, probably no more than a few dozen in total. Not a large village, but a place where about a hundred people could live.

  Roelle took the lead as they rode toward the village. They'd been traveling for over a week, and everybody had a sort of road weariness to them already. She wonde
red if some would begin to lose faith, realize that what they might have thought of as a game was something else entirely. So far, none had said anything to her, but the nights had passed with less laughter than they had at the beginning.

  Roelle rubbed her eyes. She was tired as well. Partly because she stayed up later than most, working with any who chose to practice with her. She began to understand why Endric had been willing to face all comers. Not only did it improve the skill of those who served under him, but practicing with them, even those with lesser skill than he possessed, helped him continue to improve his own skills.

  In that way, Roelle had found that she had continued to improve with the sword. Teaching especially had helped her to develop. In the demonstration of the various catahs, she had to be more exacting in the way she performed them. Even those whose defense she hadn't quite learned, she had begun to see and formulate her own way of defending them. She wondered if Endric had done something similar. Perhaps that was how he became so skilled and feared.

  She raised a hand, calling the line to a halt. Hester rode up to her. Since that night by the fire, he had become something of an advisor to her. She appreciated his wisdom, something she suspected Endric had also anticipated. In some ways, he reminded her of him.

  “What do you think, Hester?”

  He squinted, studying the village. “Well… You've got nearly one hundred Magi with you. I can’t imagine many more people than that live in the village. Might be that our approach will cause more problems than you want.”

  Roelle nodded. She had felt the same. “How far are we from the next city?”

  She should have spent time studying the maps. She had one in her pocket that she had folded and rolled up, but she didn't have the same familiarity with them as Hester did.

  “The next? The next real city is probably Rondalin, but that’s more to the east than what we’re traveling. There are a few smaller towns, all larger than this village, that we can stop in if you're concerned about supplies.”