Mage Prime (Book 2) (32 page)

Sitting on the grass Karryl removed his cream coloured biretta and spent a moment or two contemplating the complex embroidered sigil on its front.

He frowned up at Dhoum. “These birds; what are they? Neither you nor Symon have mentioned them before.”

Dhoum settled down beside him in a puddle of grey fabric. “As a species they are becoming increasingly rare. Our race discovered them not too long after we arrived on our world. We found them not only highly intelligent but also quite amenable to the idea of becoming our messengers.”

Karryl looked at Dhoum, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “And spies?”

“Yes that too, but only recently.”

“What are they like?”

Dhoum rubbed his muzzle and looked over the valley into the blue-white sky above the distant city. “Wait a little longer, and you’ll find out. I summoned them while we were in the sphere.”

Karryl joined Dhoum in his scrutiny of the sky, but it was Dhoum who saw them first. He pointed to the left of the distant central building’s glittering dome. Five small dark specks rapidly resolved themselves to become recognisable as birds, heading towards them over the rooftops.

Karryl jumped to his feet with a gasp as the flying messengers became clearly visible. “They’re eagles!”

Dhoum pushed himself up and stood beside him. “What were you expecting; pigeons? No, they are not eagles. I think they’d be quite offended if you called them that. They are in fact, Lammergeyers.”

Karryl’s hands went to his mouth. As the huge birds flew closer he stared in wide-eyed amazement at Dhoum. “I thought Lammergeyers were just a myth!”

Dhoum’s amber eyes twinkled as he stroked his throat-patch. “It has until now, suited the needs of our race not to correct that assumption. But there have been occasions when it has been necessary to send the birds not only to this world but also to yours, hence the birth of the myth. Now, I suggest you get out of the way.”

A shadow fell across the hillside. Powerfully muscled, golden-feathered legs extended huge talons as the first of the massive birds soared gracefully down to land in front of them. Twelve feet of dark brown, gold flecked wings remained outstretched, fierce rose-hued eyes staring down at them over a cruelly hooked beak.

As its four equally impressive companions filled the air above the hillside, Dhoum reached up and gently grasped the long beard of glossy feathers which adorned the handsome bird’s throat. “My faithful Lamak, momentous times lie before us. It is my wish that you know and trust Master Karryl as you know and trust me.”

The great bird slowly lowered its enormous wings. Folding them sedately over its broad black-feathered back, it turned its long sleek head. The Lammergeyer gazed unblinkingly at Karryl as if somehow estimating his worth.

The voice which entered his mind was deep and resonant. “My children and I offer you our warmest welcome. We understand that great things are expected of you. My eldest will bond with you and will fly at your command, wherever you may be.”

Awed and fascinated, Karryl was still struggling to frame a reply when another Lammergeyer, only marginally smaller and lighter in colour than Lamak, drifted down to settle beside him.

Quickly folding its wings over a sleek broad back, it turned and looked Karryl straight in the eye. “My sire honours me. Long have I desired to be a bonded messenger of the Grrybhñnös. To be only the second to be bonded to a man is truly unequalled. My name is Ekha.”

Hearing the warm, almost amorous tones of what was unmistakeably a female voice, Karryl tentatively held out a hand as he struggled to recover his composure. Ekha lowered her head. After a quick glance at Dhoum and Lamak who were watching closely, Karryl stroked his palm once over the sleek black tipped mahogany feathers of her brow. He failed to suppress a gasp. In that short moment, Ekha reached into his mind with hers. He flew with the great birds, rode thermals over wide grassy plains, soared high above their mountainous eyries, hunted, fed and fought. He understood the complex hierarchy, the choosing of a lifelong mate, the gatherings in time of need, and the enforced solitude of the transgressor. Feeling humbled and privileged, Karryl removed his hand from the wide feathered brow and stood back. As if nothing had happened Ekha lifted one wing a little and began to preen. Designed for ripping and tearing, her hooked beak now delicately teased and arranged the tiniest of brown and golden feathers.

Lamak’s approving voice entered Karryl’s mind.
“It is as it should be.”

All too soon, he was brought back to cold stark reality.

Folding his arms, Dhoum looked up into the great bird’s noble and fearsome face. “Solen said you were sent with messages of concern. Who summoned you?”

Lamak lowered his head until it was level with Dhoum’s. “Had it been any other except you, we would have ignored the summons. But we cannot ignore those to whom we owe our being.”

Dhoum’s eyes opened wide. He and Karryl exchanged glances.

Ekha focussed her ruby-eyed gaze on Karryl.
“We have flown far and seen many things.”

Karryl’s mind was once again filled with stunningly vivid and detailed images from the combined Lammergeyer memory.

The voice was Lamak’s. “We flew fast and high to the vast desert land. There we hunted and fed with the Vuqhlari. We did not remain long. The heat does not suit us. They told us of great black flying creatures with twisted unfathomable minds, and of men who gather in dark enclosed places. They plot and scheme to destroy all that is fair and good in our worlds, all to awaken their god who, they believe, sleeps far beneath the sand.”

Frustrated, Dhoum clasped his hands together and shook them. “Friend Lamak, most of this we know. There must be something else.”

A vivid image flowed into Karryl’s mind. Seen from high above, a sharp and clear bird’s-eye view showed Ghian standing on a wide platform overlooking the sun-blasted desert city of Vedra.

He heard his harsh, powerful voice addressing a large congregation of black-robed priests, armed temple guards, soldiers and Grelfi, and understood the alien language which came from his cruel mouth. “There is little time remaining. In a short while our attack must begin in earnest, and there must be no failures. To fail is to die. The artefacts must be recovered, our great god restored to life. Prepare yourselves and your beasts. Our time here is almost done.”

The image faded, and Lamak’s voice once more entered Karryl’s mind. “We fear for you and your world. We are powerless against such as these. We must return to the world of the Grrybhñnös to await the outcome.”

Karryl felt a frisson of alarm and moved close to Ekha. “Suppose I need you to fly for me?”

The huge bird cocked her head on one side and regarded Karryl as if he were some kind of simpleton. “Then you must call. If you want me to come to you, show me where you are. If you want me to go and see something, show me where.”

A little abashed, Karryl breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. I’d hate to lose you so soon after we’ve met.”

There was no reply, but the feeling of empathy which Ekha returned needed no words. Slightly moist eyed, Karryl turned away. Lamak and Dhoum were gazing intently at each other, obviously engaged in some deeply private conversation. Dhoum nodded and stepped back. Lifting his great wings, Lamak slowly extended them to their full awe-inspiring length. Uncharacteristically, Dhoum scratched his head then examined one of his claw-like fingernails.

He looked sternly up at Lamak. “D’you know you’ve got fleas?”

There was a note of mild amusement in the Lammergeyer’s reply.
“All birds have fleas.”

Dhoum was indignant. “Not such blasted big ones though.”

Karryl detected what seemed very much like laughter then a chorus of Lammergeyer voices rang in his head.
“Farewell!”

Turning to face out over the valley, the two giant birds launched themselves upwards, their powerful wings beating the air as they rose to join the others circling high above. With one final circling swoop, the Lammergeyers saluted the two magicians before commencing an effortless upward spiral which took them swiftly and silently out of sight. Dhoum remained still for a few moments, his face turned up to the sky.

Eventually he turned back to Karryl. “If you’re ready, we’d best be off.”

The young magician nodded then frowned. “Ekha said that she was only the second to be bonded to a man. Who was the first then?”

Dhoum’s amber eyes twinkled as he grasped Karryl’s forearm. “I’d have thought you’d have figured that one out. I don’t know the name of the bird, but the man was Keril, the first Mage-Prime. Now, let’s get back to Vellethen. Front courtyard of your place I think.”

Two spirals of sparkling blue and white motes swirled outwards and upwards. The hillside lay quiet again.

They materialised at the end of the courtyard in the teeth of the blizzard. Following a simultaneous and undignified dash for the shelter of the portico, Karryl slapped snow off his robe and hat as he stared open-mouthed at the whirling whiteness.

Dhoum gave his robe and fur a vigorous shake and returned Karryl’s stare of amazement. “Not quite what we were expecting.”

Karryl rubbed his arms and shivered. “The first thing I’m going to do is go in and put on a warm undershirt.”

Before he could even take a step, he was contradicted by a voice from the doorway. “It’s good to see you back safely but there’s no time for that. You’ll have to use your warming spell.”

Shrugging himself into a rather oversize and shapeless hooded brown coat, Symon hurried towards them. “Didn’t you see the messenger leaving?”

Karryl raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “We haven’t seen anybody! We’ve barely arrived! Where are we going?”

Symon peered out at the swirling blizzard. “First to see King Vailin to get more details, then it would seem we’re off to Mudlin to fight grelfons. Oh! By the way, I’ve only been back about half an hour myself. Vailin sent the messenger on the off-chance I’d be here.”

Dhoum stood in front of Symon and looked him in the eye. “Don’t think I’m running out on you, but if you’ll go on ahead, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

Symon raised a white eyebrow, a thick layer of snowflakes serving to further emphasise its usual bushiness. “Do you know where Mudlin is?”

Dhoum gave a dismissive flick of his hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll find it.” There was a faint ‘pop’, a gust of air, and Dhoum had vanished.

Karryl frowned and looked at Symon. “
‘We’ll’
find it?”

Symon gave a knowing smile, shook his head, and scurried off along the corridor towards the main palace, Karryl close on his heels.

* * *

Vailin was pacing up and down his office when they arrived, Master Gibb’s pen scratching busily. “…therefore I have no viable option other than to request your assistance, as expeditiously as circumstances permit.’ The usual endings Master Gibb. As soon as they’re ready, I’ll sign them.”

Looking slightly harassed, the young king turned to Symon and Karryl. “Thank you for getting here so quickly. I wasn’t even sure you were back. A platoon of my best soldiers is out in this blizzard, somewhere between here and a village called Mudlin. A farmer out checking his livestock got caught in the storm. He was heading across the fields for the road when he saw them. The trouble is, there are by his account two grelfons on the road in front of the platoon, and another of the creatures in a nearby field.”

Symon grimaced and rubbed his chin. “Where is the farmer now? I’d like to… er… speak with him.”

Vailin shook his head. “I know what you mean. Unfortunately, the poor fellow stumbled up to his chest in a ditch of icy water in his haste to get here. He just managed to get to see myself and Lady Evalin and tell his story when he collapsed. At the moment he is, to the best of my knowledge, lying unconscious in the Infirmary. Is there anything you can do? The road will be nigh impassable by now, although the blizzard does seem to be easing a little.”

Symon patted his palms together as if anticipating a country jaunt. “There is much we can do. Fortunately I know Mudlin, although it’s probably changed somewhat since I was last there. Come along Karryl. We have work to do.”

The little magician was about to head for the door when Karryl stopped him. “We can go from in here, you know.”

Symon looked a little dubious then respectfully inclined his head towards Vailin. “If you’ll excuse us, Your Majesty?”

Grabbing Karryl’s arm, Symon inscribed a circle in the air above his head. The pair vanished, leaving Master Gibb not a little discomposed, and Vailin wondering whether being King was what he really wanted to do.

* * *

Symon had judged the distance well. They arrived right on the road, the grelfons between them and Vintar’s platoon. The blizzard had moved on, leaving large flakes of snow drifting down from a leaden sky. Karryl immediately closed his eyes and worked the warming spell, suspecting that Symon was doing the same despite his warm woollen coat. Assured now, of at least an hour’s comfortable warmth, Karryl cast a shield of silence round them both. He started to walk steadily forward, the snow pushing into his sandals making him wish he had at least taken a moment or two to pull on his boots.

Ahead of him he could make out two bulky shapes, one somewhat closer to him than the other, vague and indistinct through the curtain of steady snowfall. Nothing seemed to be moving, neither grelfons nor soldiers. Karryl looked about him for any sign of the rumoured third grelfon. It was then he noticed that Symon was not coming along behind him as he had first thought. He stood still. Everything was still. Releasing the shield of silence, he listened. The only sound to reach his ears was the soft, whispering rustle as snow fell relentlessly on snow. He crept forward, one pace at a time, lifting his feet high and placing them carefully into the pristine whiteness. The grelfons remained motionless. He could see them more clearly now, some twenty paces ahead. Again he stopped to listen and look. It was then he saw something which made his heart beat even faster.

On both sides of the road, beyond the grelfons and close up under the low hedge, oddly shaped mounds of snow formed lumpy ridges stretching back beyond the limit of visibility. His suspicions aroused, Karryl focussed on the strangely familiar shape of one of the larger mounds. He was not really surprised to see that it was trembling and in danger of losing its top layer. Shifting his gaze he focussed on one of the snow-mounds opposite. That too was trembling. Then it sneezed. Nothing moved except the deep eiderdown of snow which slithered off the soldier’s back and head to land beside him. He stared at Karryl but remained silent, moving nothing voluntarily but watching him intently. At the risk of alarming the crouching soldier Karryl picked his spot and translocated. The grelfons now lay about fifteen paces behind him. Drawing power, he turned swiftly. His sudden arrival in front of them had elicited no response. Not only were their eyes closed, but snow was beginning to settle on the feathered backs and drooping wings.

He took a gamble. “Captain Vintar. Are you nearby?”

Just ahead and to his left a mound of snow shook and collapsed as Vintar rose slowly to his feet. The captain’s low murmur matched Karryl’s. “Master Karryl. Are you alone?”

“No. Symon is back there. We’re half expecting reinforcements, but I don’t think we’ll need them. Come over here and I’ll show you what I mean.”

Caution guiding every step, Vintar crossed the snow-filled road to stand beside the magician. Karryl pointed out the grelfon’s closed eyes and the settling of snow on its back then indicated a spot under the beast’s belly. “If you watch that carefully, you’ll see it rising and falling very slowly.”

Vintar peered at the spot for a while then looked at Karryl. “They’re still alive then?”

Karryl smiled grimly. “Yes, but only just. They’re in a chilled torpor; freezing to death. They come from a hot dry country. Consequently their bodies couldn’t cope with the vagaries of our winter.”

Vintar studied the torpid beasts for a long moment. “Shall we just leave them here then?”

“Not a good idea. It only needs the weather to suddenly turn warmer and if there’s a spark of life left they might liven up again.”

Vintar looked along the lines of snow-bumps. “Wyke? Where are you?”

The soldier, who had sneezed and then stared balefully at Karryl, broke away from the hedge.

He crept forward cradling a canvas-wrapped bundle. “Are they dead, sir?”

“As good as, bowman Wyke, but I’ll get you to finish them off. It should be an easy shot from here.”

Wyke looked dubious as he removed the canvas wrapping from his crossbow. “Happen it will be, if t’bow stayed dry.”

A few of the snow mounds began to move, and Vintar hissed a sharp order. “Platoon, hold your positions!”

The mounds stopped moving. Karryl and Vintar both winced as the sound of the crossbow’s ratchet shattered the stillness of the air. The bow cocked, Wyke slid the bolt into its slot, released the safety, took careful aim, and shot. The bolt’s eerie scream cut abruptly short as it found its target, burying itself deep in the grelfon’s scaly brow-ridge. Quickly, Wyke cocked and reloaded, despatching the second beast with ruthless efficiency.

Slowly he lowered his crossbow, a smile of grim satisfaction on his cold-pinched face. “Happen that only leaves one then sir, going by young Gilfric’s reckoning.”

He found he was talking to himself. Vintar was already moving quickly along the two lines of snow-mounds, rousing his platoon into action, their rapid breathing sending white streamers into the icy air. With much stamping of feet and beating of cold and cramped arms round shivering bodies, the platoon stumbled haphazardly onto the road. In their discomfort they barely noticed the snowfall had abated quite considerably, the blizzard’s fury finally spent. Their weapons retrieved from a hastily built stack under a nearby tree, pike-men joined the remainder of the platoon gathered round Karryl and Wyke. Two of the snow-mounds had failed to move. Fearing the worst, Vintar and Sgt. Darke took two men each and ran back to investigate.

The muffled, crunching cadence of running feet had every soldier with his hand on his short-sword. Cold and discomfort forgotten, to a man they turned in the direction of the sound. His hand raised high to forestall any unnecessary hostile move, Karryl stepped forward. A familiar figure ploughed along the verge towards them, churning up the undisturbed snow. Five others followed close behind, similarly clad in sturdy boots and hunting clothes beneath weather-proof hide coats. Scabbarded broadswords hung at their hips, while long sturdy lengths of curved wood hung angled across their backs. Symon brought up the rear, his round face glowing with a combination of cold and exertion.

Karryl hurriedly introduced Magnor, then stepped back to let him introduce his men. Cold steel hissed slowly back into scabbards. They had progressed no further than brief handshakes when Vintar’s urgent shout rang out from the rear. His five hunters detailed to stand watch for the third grelfon, Magnor joined Karryl in a rush back along the road. Soldiers’ boots crumped and thudded, compressing new snow into thick black lumps of ice as the platoon followed.

The Royal Messenger’s limp form lay draped, head lolling, across Vintar’s knees. Captain and a corporal knelt in the snow, urgently chafing Gilfric’s hands. Off to one side, the inert form of another soldier was receiving attention from Sgt. Darke, his men attempting to shake the man into consciousness. Pushing through the forest of soldiers, Symon scurried forward and crouched down in front of Vintar. Holding out his hand palm downwards, the magician passed it slowly about an inch above Gilfric’s body. Not willing to trust his decision to just one pass, he repeated the action, pausing at vital points in the hope that there was a tenacious something still clinging on.

With a slow shake of his head, Symon stood up. “I am afraid he has gone, Captain Vintar. Cold and exhaustion have taken their toll.”

Vintar turned anguished eyes up to the little magician. “Is there nothing you can do?”

Symon gave him a wan smile. “I only wish there were, but no life-spark remains. Even my powers will not raise the dead. Allow me to take him to the Infirmary and inform his parents. They can at least take some small comfort from knowing that their son died in the service of his country.”

Vintar and his corporal stood up and lifted Gilfric’s body up out of the snow. Symon removed his woollen coat and wrapped it tenderly round the boy’s lifeless form, covering the pale young face with the hood. With Gilfric cradled close to his chest, Symon closed his eyes, murmured a short phrase and vanished.

Apart from a momentary tingling of his skin, Karryl was unaware of the tragedy which had just taken place just behind him. Kneeling on the trampled verge beside Sgt. Darke he sought for the life-spark in the soldier who had succumbed to the blizzard. Slowly he moved his hands over him, concentrating like Symon on the points where he knew the spark, if there was one, would burn brightest.

Keeping his voice low, Darke leaned towards Karryl. “I reckon bowman Parry’s gone sir. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing.”

Karryl didn’t reply as he moved his hands to the top of Parry’s head and began to repeat his scanning. Reaching a point near the bowman’s collar-bone, the young magician paused.

His dark eyes flashed. “Sergeant; quickly! We need something else to rest this man on. What I am about to do requires that no one but me is touching him.”

One of the two soldiers with them dashed away. Fingers flying, Karryl began to remove the now sodden blanket which had been wrapped around Parry’s body.

Gently he lifted the bowman’s skinned and raw hands and frowned. “Was this man attacked?”

At that moment the soldier returned with a thick blanket, this one comparatively dry. Darke replied as he helped Karryl lift Parry onto it. “No sir. After Wyke killed the first creature, Parry tried to retrieve the bolt. He fell into a pool of the evil black mess it had spouted out. He panicked and Wyke had to knock him out. When he came round the stuff had set. It took his skin off when we helped him out of his clothes.”