Secrets of Arkana Fortress (21 page)

The air virtually jumped around Byde’s head. Without saying anything he nodded. ‘She told you?’

‘No not at all. She is my star pupil for sensory magic.’

‘You’re a mind reader too?’

‘I am indeed.’ Sagio rubbed his chin and stared at Byde’s face through his wrinkled eye sockets. ‘But no matter how powerful a mind mage is, they wouldn’t be able to penetrate your head if they tried.’

Byde stood silent, his chest beginning to tremble from the hardened thumps of his heart. He could feel the onset of sweat forming on his palms.

‘I know what you are… what was your name again?’ Sagio cooled his expression as if he was a professional.

The doubt in Byde’s mind presumed a ploy on the old mage’s part. ‘And who am I exactly, sir?’

The wrinkled mage patted his chest. ‘Please, call me Sagio.’ He furrowed his white brows. ‘As to the predicament of reading you, let’s just say it’s much like a trip back in time for me. Let me ask; how old are you?’

Byde shrugged. ‘Never counted; been on my own for a long while so you kinda lose track.’

Sagio chuckled softly. ‘I know what you mean there. I myself lost count many many decades ago.’

‘Decades ago? How old are you?’

‘Last time I remember I was nearing 150 years.’

‘But I didn’t think that any human could live that long. The only race I know that can live that long are the Bullwarks.’

‘Well I’m certainly no Bullwark am I?’ Sagio laughed a crusty and somewhat rough sound that made Byde feel like his ear drums were being scratched against metal.

‘Then how?’ Byde asked curiously.

The mage patted his chest again, a hollow thump sounding. ‘Bullwark heart – had a transplant many years ago. It was done magically, hence there are no scars or anything like that – pinnacle of medicinal magic that was.’

Byde looked the old man over a couple of times, the feat of medicinal magic genuinely impressing him.

              Sagio shuffled forward. ‘But how is it your life has been so long? You still have your looks.’ He raised a hand to Byde’s face suddenly, his thumb and forefinger resting above and below his right eye. ‘There are, or was, only one race of humans that could benefit from longevity in natural form.’

              ‘You were around when they were still present?’

              Sagio nodded.

              ‘Then you know what I am… and who I am. You also know that I am the last one.’

              The old man laughed that grating sound again. ‘I’m afraid you are wrong, my dear man. You are not the only one I have sensed as of late.’

Chapter 16

It had taken him three days to return to his home north of Hocknis, and the journey had certainly taken it out of him – a seemingly never ending sail across the Northern oceans, and another day’s trek on horseback across the Cryldis plains. As much as he loved the scenery, this particular time his mind was elsewhere – focusing on the events of his past week. Things in his life had been shaken, but why was he taking so much notice of it all? He was never one for concern in such circumstantial situations.

              He shook his head free and looked down at his steed plodding along at a steady pace. He was nearing his lodge and was eager to slide back into his leather upholstered wingback chair with a warm brandy next to a freshly stoked fireplace. That was the one thing he always missed the most – his sanctuary. To him his lodge was more than just a home; it was a slice of heaven he had intricately carved out for himself at great expense.

              The view around him was calm; a much starker contrast to the turbulence in the rest of the land, given the Psyloss plague and all the political upheaval. His home was set among the trees, with minor clearings dotted around the building. As the horse approached Mikos’s small stable, the creature jeered up and shook its head.

              ‘What’s wrong, boy?’ he asked soothingly. The horse shook its head again and patted the dirt with its hooves. Mikos peered around the clearing, searching for his groundskeeper. Going against the stereotypical view of having some gruff, male bodybuilder of a man to keep the ground safe while he was away, he had employed a female who was very capable of looking after herself when there was trouble.

              ‘Ah Mikos, you’re back.’

He nearly jumped out of his saddle when the deep female voice came up from behind. He shifted the horse 90 degrees and looked at her butch figure in the sunlight. For a well built woman, not the overweight kind, she had a sexy allure to her that Mikos found, unbeknownst to him, quite relaxing. Her mucky brown hair was short and sat neatly around the base of her neck. She wore a black top with rolled up sleeves, olive green slacks, and had a brown leather apron on that made her look bigger than she actually was.

‘Anna you scared me then,’ he remarked as he patted the horse on the neck. ‘The horse was going crazy here.’

‘Did they treat it well while you were away?’ Anna looked at the creature with stony grey eyes. ‘She looks healthy enough.’

Mikos waved a hand from side to side. ‘Yes yes, she’s fine. Has something happened? She doesn’t usually jeer up and start going mad when I come home.’

Her eyes glanced up at him, taking him aback slightly like they always did – she may have had that sexy allure, but there was an added element of intimidation to her. ‘I had a bit of trouble with some scavengers the other day… they had hounds with them and everything. I came out to find them pissing all o’er everything. The two geezers were making their way round the side of the lodge, but I dealt with them.’

              Mikos felt his throat dry up. He coughed desperately. ‘Did they get anything?’ he asked as he got down from the saddle.

              Anna laughed, her deepened voice quivering the air around her. ‘Did they heck as like; y’know me better than that.’

              ‘Were they armed?’

              ‘Briefly,’ she scoffed. ‘I’ve got their swords round the back.’

              He handed her the reigns of the horse and stood back. ‘I can always rely on you, Anna. See to the horse, I’m going for a drink.’

              He made his way across the clearing to the front door, the stony texture of the ground crunching around him as he went. The entrance to the stone built lodge was a solid mix of thick oak panelling and hardened steel. The door edged open with a heavy creak that sounded like a giant ship being scuppered. His boots clopped on the paved floor as the ambient light from the fresh fire met his gaze – Anna made it a point of stoking the hearth before his return from every trading excursion. A bottle of vintage port sat on a table with a glass accompanying it, ready for pouring. The table was in its standard place next to his leather chair right by the fire where he could appreciate the beauty of it the most.

              The walls on the east side were laden with trinkets and pieces he had collected over the years – weapons, shields, musical instruments, paintings, and ornamental crafts that depicted cultures from every corner of the known lands from Donnol to Yingtzo to Traseken to Yokitos.

Items from the so-called “secret city” of Yokitos were especially difficult to come by, particularly in recent years. Research into the sudden silence of Yokitos with the outside world resulted in little insight coupled with an expected increase in the value of artefacts from that region. The extravagant designs of all their creations were accentuated by radically loud colours, such as bright greens, yellows, and reds which outlined the raw images and shapes to a degree that people’s criticisms were never uttered freely.

              A lot of trading acumen had been used on Mikos’s part – many a time he had been embroiled in bartering with reluctant reptilians and ferocious felines only to come away with a much reduced price tag on his purchase. This was something, starting many years ago, that made his name a whisper on the breeze that passed over marketplaces and trading premises’. In the wider community the name Mikos was something to be smiled upon; being likened to him was a compliment, much to his humbleness. The complementary nature he had unwittingly brought down upon himself was a source of much embarrassment for him. This being the case, he preferred to keep a low profile when out and about.

              He took his seat by the fireplace and picked up the dark bottle of port, his eyes examining the faded label on the front. A fine Traseken vintage a few decades old… Anna had certainly hunted around for this one while he was gone. That woman was quite like an older sister to him. He picked up the crystal cut glass that had been placed carefully on the side table.

              After uncorking the bottle he took a long, lasting whiff of the thick, purple-red liquid inside. In his opinion, the thicker the port meant the better its quality, but not ridiculously thick of course. With a lick of his lips he poured a small measure and replaced the cork firmly, resting the bottle back on the table as if it was a precious gem. The fruity aperitif slid soothingly down his gullet, warming him as it went. He hummed with approval and stretched his legs out, kicking his shoes off onto the thick carpet beneath.

              The backdoor opened and shut. Mikos heard shuffling and huffing from within the kitchen. Anna had finished yet another daily chore of wood chopping and emerged into the living room with the axe still sitting on her shoulder – it looked menacing. It made a low thump as it was put on the floor next to a small dresser.

              ‘That’s the firewood stockpile done for the next few days,’ Anna remarked as she mopped her brow with a piece of rag.

              ‘You didn’t have to do so much; we’ve plenty in the storage room for now.’ Mikos put the glass down and turned to look at her.

              Anna screwed up her mouth and tutted to herself. ‘I know, but you never know when you might need it.’

              ‘Well if there’s an emergency where I need to stoke more than one fire then I know who to thank,’ he said with a smile.

              ‘Sarcasm won’t get you anywhere, y’know.’

              ‘I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic,’ he protested, his face scrunching up into one of defensive annoyance.

              ‘I can always tell when your smooth talking insults slip out into the middle of conversation. Whether y’mean ‘em to come out or not is neither ‘ere nor there, it gets on my wick.’

              Mikos sucked in his pride and raised a palm like a school teacher does with a badly behaved class. ‘Please, Anna, accept my apologies. I’ll try and be more vigilant in the future with what I say. It’s been a hellish week in Donnol.’

              The hulk of a woman grabbed a spare chair from the dining table and dragged it across the floor to where Mikos was. She parked herself on it and leaned on her knees, arms folded over each other. ‘Oh yeah? I noticed y’were gone a couple o’ days longer than usual. Anything interesting happen?’

              He told her the story, as farfetched and fabricated as he thought it sounded, and promptly poured himself another drink after finishing it.

              ‘That… sounds… how can I put it? Fucked up,’ she remarked with a guaranteed look of disbelief on her face. She had sat up half way through Mikos’s recital when he got to the part with the rescue mission and how he believed, secretly, that he had been set up to be killed. ‘I’m glad y’didn’t get gutted coz I would’ve had to sell all your beautiful stuff to make ends meet.’ She let off a coarse, but altogether pleasing laugh.

              ‘You’re terrible, Anna,’ he replied with an equal amount of amusement resting on his lips like a rash. ‘All these pieces would go to museums if I pop off unexpectedly.’ He coughed. ‘Of course a small sum would go to you after a few of these items were sold instead of being donated.’

              There was a look of genuine surprise on her face, making her look like a startled deer caught in the sights of a hunter. ‘Really? Any idea how much?’ She smirked and leaned forward again.

              Mikos sipped some more port then rested his glass on the tabletop before clasping his hands together. ‘You really want to know? The shock may give you a heart attack and you’ll bugger off before I do.’

              ‘I’m willing to take the risk.’

              ‘Very well.’ He cleared his throat thoroughly. ‘Three pieces will go to generous homes belonging to well to-do families. The sum will make sure that you never need work again.’

              ‘Any idea on how much it would be?’ She edged forward a bit more in anticipation.

              ‘Last estimation was six figures.’

              ‘Fucking hell,’ she exclaimed with a raised voice. ‘It’s almost worth killing you for.’ Her eyes squinted at him then widened. ‘Not that I’d do that of course,’ she laughed. ‘I’ve known you for too long.’

              With a swift move Mikos picked up his glass again and took a drink. ‘How long has it been exactly?’ he asked enquiringly.

              ‘Oh.’ She sat back and rubbed her chin. ‘Well I was ‘ere when your dad was still knockin’ about, so it’s gotta be over 10 years… maybe 15?’

              ‘Wow it’s got to be ain’t it!’

The air lightened as they both laughed, the fire highlighting the joviality on their faces. Things between them had always been simpatico.