Merchants and Mages (Highmage's Plight Book 2) (26 page)

Saving Niota

Chapter 44

“N
ow what’s a fine lady like ya’self doin’ in the middle of nowhere, Milady?” the Sergeant asked.

 
“Niota’s under attack. They need your legionnaires.”

 
He and his men laughed. “Right, Milady.”

 
She pulled from her pockets the charms. “Hmm, the runes on these say they’re for an unmolested night’s sleep. Problem with bedbugs, Sergeant? Or perhaps, hmm, a better time with the ladies, is what this one promises.”

 
“Where did you get those?”

 
“Oh, here and there, Sergeant… But you and your men can have them all; just pay a brief visit to Niota.”

 
“Niota has a permanent detachment of hundreds, Milady,” the Sergeant replied, shaking his head. “We’ve our orders.”

 
Esperanza frowned, “When was the last time you ever spoke to anyone from Niota’s detachment?”

 
“Meself, hmm, I don’t recall.”

 
“That’s because you’ve been deceived. Niota doesn’t have a detachment. I’ve scried it! They are getting some unlikely reinforcements, but the keep needs soldiers – your soldiers, Sergeant and if I’m wrong, what will a few more days mean to the Legion?”

 
She held the charms out and smiled.

 
The Sergeant glanced back at his men and said, “I hate bugs. Course, I like the ladies.”

 
Esperanza nodded, “I’ll have need of a horse.”

 
“Milady, you’re not coming with us?”

 
“No, I’ve got to warn the Lyai. We’ll need more than your thirty legionnaires before this matter is done.” She gave over the charms as they lent her a horse. She mounted, and her clothing changed to elvin

chainmail.

  The Sergeant stared as she rode off like something out of legend. “Well, lads, you heard the lady! Things are amiss in Niota, so we’ve business to be about!”

“Walsh! Over there!”

 
At Thomi’s yell the ogre heaved another rock from his pile that had to weigh fifty stone. It sailed across the battlement and struck the soldier who had climbed the rope on the hook. The man screamed as he was sent sailing clear and plummeted from the escarpment cliff.

 
Walsh raced over and grabbed the hook. Lifting it high, feeling the weight of other soldiers clinging to it, he cast it away. Men screamed as they fell. The ogre then sat down heavily, exhausted.

 
“Walsh,” Thomi said.

 
Breathing heavily, the ogre heard a sound. The Imperial Gate behind them opened by itself and ogres strode forth. The refugees that called Niota home backed away and stared. A dozen ogres came into the courtyard and looked about them at the keep that gleamed like new.

 
As one the ogres looked at Thomi in his elvin chainmail, then bowed.

 
“Bout –– time,” Walsh rasped.

 
An older ogre looked at him and laughed. A moment later the dozen manned the battlements and were throwing massive stones, striking targets a great distance down the none too wide path up the escarpment. There were cries and screams as the attackers struggled to flee.

 
Thomi gestured and Walsh slowly rose and went back inside the keep. Exhausted, the ogre lay down on the blankets, which lately served as his bed. He closed his eyes and began snoring so loudly the windows shook.

 
Small children giggled as Thomi went back to the door. That’s when a long white–haired, somewhat matronly looking ogre entered followed by several rather small ogres.

 
He hurried to greet them – and to keep the peace as he wondered just how many ogres Niota truly could now claim. But, Milord!”

 
“I’ll be fine, Hynrik!”

 
“But if what she says is true, you’re going into the teeth of an invasion, alone, but for her!” Hynrik warned.

 
Archmage Talik, wanted for treason, laughed, “But the lady’s told us

we’ve ogres for help.”

  “And thirty legionnaires, who should reach Niota before us,” Amira added, helpfully.

 
Talik nodded, “And a whole thirty legionnaires. So, be a good fellow and slip back into the city and get me every Faeryn mage that can be spared. Let my honored cousin trust to his Academy approved mages!”

 
The old man shook his head, “If you get yourself killed, I’ll kill you!”

 
“Lot of sense that makes,” Talik said, chuckling, offering his arm to the lovely young elvin woman.

 
She climbed behind him on his mount, her elvin mail gleaming in sudden sunlight.

 
“Hold tight, lass.”

 
She did.

They rode hard.

 
“Sergeant! Slow down!”

 
“Keep up, lads!” he shouted.

 
“But, Sir, you can’t believe…”

 
He glanced back. “Lads, best learn now, follow orders!”

 
“But you’re not!”

 
He laughed, “Officer material, eh?” The horses kept the pace. The Sergeant figured they could rest once they got to Niota, particularly if this was all that girl’s fancy. Then again, she was a lovely elvin lass. Perhaps the charm would even work with her.

 
‘She’s out of your league, Sergeant.’

 
His eyes grew wide, “Who said that?”

 
“Who said what, Sarge?”

 
“Nothing. Never mind… I’m losing my bloomin’ mind, is what.”

 
‘Hurry, Sergeant.’

 
He glanced at the charms in the pouch, “By the Empress, one of you talking to me.”

 
‘Yes, Sergeant… and Niota will desperately need your aid come the dawn, so do not stop for anything.’

 
“Wonderful.”

#

There was a clash of swords and screams when Walsh woke with a start. “What?”

 
A little girl was pulling on his arm, “Oh, thank goodness you’re awake. Lord Thomi needs your help!”

 
Walsh hurried from the keep as torches lit the courtyard. An ogre youngling leapt across the battlement with a battle cry. Another raced past him and tossed a club up to the old ogre, who had greeted him earlier.

 
A crossbow bolt whizzed past him. An ogre cried out as he was struck. He plucked the bolt out and charged the soldier who had reached the safety of the battlement. Well, relative safety. The ogre plucked the man up and dropped him on the fellows scaling the wall.

 
Thomi glanced back and shouted, “Walsh, glad you can join the party!”

 
A scaling hook landed behind him. Walsh sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Vision

Chapter 45

E
speranza had not been trained as a rider. The enchantment in the mail she wore was cushioning her bottom; although, she was still sore.

 
Hungry, she paused by a stream and let her mount drink and rest. She knew she was mad. What was she thinking?
I’m no one. Why will the Lyai even listen to me?

 
‘Why would he not?’

 
She looked about, knowing that voice. “You’re following me?”

 
‘In a manner of speaking… You are… interesting. Much has happened these many centuries.’

 
“In that tomb you brought Amira and me to, you said you were a ghost.”

 
‘You would not understand… Much has been forgotten. What I am is, well, best described as being a ghost.’

 
“Are you scrying me?”

 
‘I have no need to “scry” as you call it now.’

 
“Just how old are you?”

 
‘Youngling, I am older than you can imagine. And, I am interested in you because, well, I believe you can lead me to answers.’

 
“You need answers?”

 
‘Yes, and the other one belongs to Niota –– leaving you for me.’

 
“I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”

 
She heard something akin to a chuckle.
‘You are wise, who would have guessed?’
There was a long pause. Water bubbled, began to boil. Her horse shied away.
‘I hope you like fish.’

 
“Huh?”

 
‘Forgive me, I like to cook.’
She heard that odd laughter, then found herself laughing.

 
She looked around for vegetables, not wanting to waste the boiling water.

 
All in all, she thought later, it was a delicious dinner. She curled up and fell asleep and dreamed.

In the Crescent Lands, north of Edous, Fenn du Blain’s Gwedian Regulars and his Trelorian levies camped at the edge of what was burning town, which served as a pyre for the Edous troops they had captured. They had managed to delay Fenn du Blain’s Gwedian Regulars and Trelorian levies as refugees fled Edous, straining the city-state’s resources.

  The Trelorian messenger cringed as he
came before Lord Fenn in his expansive and partitioned command tent, surrounded by a half dozen men of his Gwedian Guard.

  He barely began his report, when Fenn raised his hand and asked in a tightly controlled voice,
“What do you mean Niota was barred?”

  “Milord,
the Keep’s walls were well-defended. The Colonel ordered an attack, though, the path up the escarpment is not particularly wide…”

  “Defended by whom?” Fenn asked
, staring at him.

  “
Scores of ogres by all reports, Milord. They dropped stones, very large ones,” he said carefully, not wanting to admit that they had only glimpsed one for the longest time.

  “Ogres? Ogres? Not Imperial troops?”

  “We saw no troops, though, there were definitely human defenders.”

  “
So, your Colonel dealt with them.”

  “Uh, not exactly, he died
in your service, Milord,” he replied, trying not to recall seeing him topple off the winding path up to the top of the escarpment. The large stone following him as he screamed. “The Captain took charge, Sir.”

“We took the Keep, yes?”

  He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No, Milord… we lost many men in the assault and
the Captain order a temporary retreat.”

  “And
he sent you to tell me of this failure?”

  “I… I was sent to ask for scaling ladders
and additional troops, so we might successfully assault and take the Keep, Milord.”

  Fenn du Blain
nodded. “Very well, scaling ladders,” glancing at one of his guards, “and some additional aid your Captain shall have.”

  “Uh, thank you, Milord,” he replied in relief.

  Fenn glanced at his nearest guard. “Somehow, I think this fine fellow must have displeased his Captain. See that he proves useful.”

  The Guard
smiled, dropping the illusion of his humanity, uttering a word of power. The messenger tried to escape, but found he could not move. He tried to scream as they goblin mage dragged him behind the fabric partition. His sudden cries, then screams soothed Fenn’s rage.

  “We must take that Keep
, Fenn,” one of his illusioned guards said.

  “Since one of your ilk has apparently failed, you can deal with it,”
Fenn replied. “I’ve Edous to besiege.”

The following day the Trelorians soldiers began their climb again of the old Imperial Road to the top of the escarpment with the ladders and additional troops under the command of one of Fenn’s fearsome looking personal guards.