Changing Of The Guard (Book 6)
Read Changing Of The Guard (Book 6) Online
Authors: Ron Collins
“Something someone said.”
- Someone
Who Did Something
The Saga of the God-Touched Mage includes:
Glamour of the God-Touched
Trail of the Torean
Target of the Orders
Gathering of the God-Touched
Pawn of the Planewalker
Changing of the Guard
Lord of the Freeborn
Lords of Existence
Other Work by Ron Collins:
Five Magics
Picasso’s Cat and Other Stories
See the PEBA on $25 a Day
Chasing the Setting Sun
Four Days in May
Links to these and more of Ron's work
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Copyright Information
Changing of the Guard
Saga of the God-Touched Mage, Volume 6
© 2015 Ron Collins
All rights reserved.
Cover Art by
Rachel J. Carpenter
© 2015 Ron Collins
All rights reserved.
Cover Images
© Prometeus | Dreamstime.com - Magic Warrior Photo
© Unholyvault | Dreamstime.com - Fantasy Landscape With A Tower Photo
© Clearviewstock | Dreamstime.com
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All incidents, dialog, and characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
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For Tim, Mike, Jackie, and Ken. And of course, for Lisa.
Table of Contents
Book 1: The Aftermath
Chapter 1
Darien stood before the gathering of the Torean mages, dressed in doeskin leggings and a tunic of Freeborn black. His battle helm from Dorfort’s army was placed on the table squarely before him.
Reynard stood at his side.
Garrick, the Toreans’ god-touched mage, had disappeared from before their eyes a week before, and now, earlier this morning, Will, Garrick’s apprentice, had been kidnapped in an audacious gambit by the Koradictine order.
Clamoring voices made it feel like all the air had been breathed out of the meeting hall. Every Freeborn mage in the city was here, nearly ninety in total. They were men and women who had come from various stations of life prior to taking up their sorcerous trades—fishermen, farmers, and woodsmen among others. A few were barely old enough to be out of their apprenticeships.
“What is the news of Garrick?” a voice called.
Garrick’s disappearance had happened in the very worst of circumstances, literally while he was addressing the Torean collective.
“Nothing new,” Darien replied, knowing that answer wasn’t good enough. “We still have mages investigating his disappearance, and I have the guard out scouring the countryside. But nothing is known at this moment.”
The mages grumbled.
“Reynard and I agree, however, that we
can
still get Will back, so that’s the course of action we will pursue. Reynard will lead a party to scour the north—the most direct path to the Koradictine homelands, and I will lead a group to the west where we know they last camped.”
Reynard broke in.
“Those who wish to be in
my
party should come to this side of the room.”
The hallway erupted in movement, every mage standing to move toward Reynard.
“Halt!” Darien called. He leaned over the table. “I said,
halt!
”
The Freeborn came to a grudging quiet.
Darien fought the urge to cast a foul glance at Reynard. How dare he stir them up at a time like this?
After the room quieted, Darien spoke.
“Everyone on Reynard’s side of the chamber will go with him. I will take the group directly before me. The rest will stay here and protect the city. I’ve asked Amanda to manage those who remain behind.”
He motioned at the young woman to Reynard’s left. She smiled, but did not look happy. Amanda had made it clear she would prefer to be out hunting Koradictines, and only Darien’s desperate plea that he needed someone he could trust to stay behind had kept her here. And, make no argument, Darien did need her here. Amanda had been at God’s Tower. The mages knew her. She could keep them in order.
The gathering grumbled further.
“I want to go north with Reynard.”
It was Trista, a youthful mage who was new to the Freeborn.
“We must use our resources in the most expedient fashion possible,” Darien replied. “Don’t you agree, Reynard?”
“Yes, Superior. We need to work together. We’ll do as we’re told, and we’ll do it well.”
If not content, the mages were at least appeased. They settled back into their seats and waited.
Darien let go of a breath.
Earlier this afternoon, as he had walked into the chamber, he had actually considered letting the Freeborn choose their assignments. It was a bolder move, a move a true leader might make to motivate people to greatness. One who chooses his task will rise above it, as his father once told him. But that idea would have been a disaster. The entire troop had moved toward Reynard. The mage’s expression was the clearest I-told-you-so Darien had ever seen. He was embarrassed and hurt, his dignity wounded.
“That’s it, then,” Darien said. “Everyone is dismissed to prepare. We leave in an hour.”
Chapter 2
Darien wrapped his cloak over his shoulders and shivered in the chill of the overcast evening. The woods around his group smelled of a hard winter coming. The wind was a constant shiv against his exposed neck. It had taken them considerably longer to leave Dorfort than he expected, but once they were started they made good headway. Until, of course, it came time to scry.
Which they were doing now.
The mages were gathered in the clearing, using their wizardry to search for signs of Will or the Koradictines.
Watching them work together was the supreme test of Darien’s patience. They talked in circles, covering the same points over and over in excruciating detail, arguing over fine points of finger position, or vocal inflection, or phrasing with such vehemence as to make even his teeth hurt. The day was growing short. And for all this work—ride an hour, dismount, cast spells, then do it again—they had gotten nowhere.
He should have just asked his father to send the Dorfort guard, who would have thundered directly down the path until they found the Koradictines.
Simple, and direct.
Simple and direct, that is, if his father were actually well enough to be able to make such a command.
The down time was what made the whole thing so excruciating. While the group moved he could keep his mind occupied, but as they stood here whiling away the daylight Darien had nothing to divert his thoughts from his father, lying on his pallet, frail and failing of health. But he was the Torean commander, now. And among other burdens, this came with the need to do things at least partly their way. And that meant interminable waits while the mages tried their best to figure out what was happening.
He fiddled with the seam of his gloves, then shifted his sword for what had to be the tenth time.
“Are you finished yet?” he asked.
The wizards broke their spell.
“We are now,” Carvil, a mage from the grasslands, replied.
“And?”
“Nothing, Superior.”
Darien sighed. He heard the edge to Carvil’s use of the word
Superior
.
“We’ll try again next stop,” he said.
Carvil didn’t reply, but his expression was easy to read.
It would go better if you weren’t hovering.
What did they expect, though?
They knew he wasn’t a wizard when they accepted him for this post. He was trying. Trying to bring the Freeborn into the world of the public, just as Sunathri had envisioned. But all he was getting for the effort were the insolent glares of kids barely out of their schooling. Surely, anyone could see how important it was to keep the Freeborn in Dorfort, that an order that held the confidence of the greatest power in the central section of the plane was an order to be dealt with.