Mage Hunter Omnibus (Complete 5 Book Series) (21 page)

He was thinking too much, and not acting. He had to do something.

As well as he could, he closed the opening in the tent behind him, then grabbed Kroff by the arms and began to haul the knight past the fire and toward the wall of the mountain. Once there, Guthrie let loose of his comrade and glanced around. He was surrounded by tents on all sides, which was good news because it kept him from being seen, at least until the Kobalans decided to search in that spot. Better yet, behind the tent to Guthrie’s left was an opening in the wall, a trail he recognized as one that led higher up onto a sizable ridge where the wyrd woman Ildra had once camped. Guthrie did not know what lay up that trail now, and he realized it was a dead end once he got to the top, but perhaps it would be better to try for there than to wait here to be caught.

Pondering the possibilities, he returned to Zanbra and wrapped his hands around her arms, pulling her over to lay next to Kroff.

The sounds of shouting and rushing soldiers came to the sergeant’s ears once more. The Kobalans were nearly in a panic. His time was running out.

But he needed a moment to breath, to catch his breath again. Trying to recall the lay of the land, he noted the trees above the northernmost tents, those also on his left. Through those trees was another trail, he knew, this one narrow and crooked and heading deep into the mountains for days before opening into another valley and the wider lands of the northern forests. That was also the way that had placed Guthrie and his companions into Verkain’s grasp. Guthrie had traveled that path twice already. Once it had taken him to freedom, the second time to captivity. If he could even make it to the trail, would it be safe to take? He could not answer that question. There was no way to know. Whatever spells Verkain or Ildra had placed upon that path, Guthrie did not know if they were still in place.

Movement from behind brought his mace to hand. He spun ready to strike.

And found Kroff sitting up rubbing his head.

“Thank Ashal,” the sergeant muttered, dropping next to his fellow.

Kroff blinked and rolled his head around on his neck as if to work out a kink, then he blinked again and looked around. Finally his eyes came to rest on the downed woman next to him. He reached out and shook her. “Zanbra?”

For a moment Guthrie wondered why the Spear was not paying attention to him, then the sergeant realized his magic still kept him from being seen. He dared not simply pop into being in front of the knight. The punishment for practicing magic was death, and Guthrie did not want to walk that road.

As Kroff continued to shake the woman, Guthrie moved back around and slightly behind the knights so he would not be in Kroff’s direct line of sight.

Then it was simply a matter of wanting to be seen again. The golden aura vanished from the edges of Guthrie’s vision and he expected he could be seen once more.

Stepping around in front of the knights, he found out he was correct.

Kroff nearly jumped, blinking again and craning back his head to look up at the sergeant. “What has happened? Where are we?”

Guthrie opened his mouth to talk, but then realized there was too much to tell. “We were prisoners of Lord Verkain, in the valley where I told you the Dartague camped. I have freed you and Zanbra, but the Kobalans know we have escaped, or at least that I have.”

“And we are still in their camp?” Kroff asked.

The sergeant offered a bleak grin. “On the edges of it as far as I can tell.”

Kroff cursed and climbed to his feet, swaying for a moment as his limbs became accustomed to holding him up once more. “Do you know of a way out?”

Before Guthrie could answer, a cry went up from the tent where the knights had been held. So much for escaping without discovery.

Seeing there were no other weapons available, the sergeant slid his dagger free and handed it to the standing knight. Then Guthrie hefted his mace and approached the tent.

A helmeted head popped through the opening Guthrie had made. The sergeant slammed down his mace, smashing into blackened steel. There was a grunt and the Kobalan dropped, flopping back inside the tent.

It would have been comical if not for the other four soldiers in black within the tent.

Guthrie backed away as the enemies stormed forward, Kroff coming up to stand next to him, the dagger a seemingly useless weapon against men in heavy armor and carrying swords, but the knight was not one to back away from a fight. It was fight or be captured once more.

The first soldier through the tent stabbed out with his sword, keeping Guthrie at bay but not Kroff. The knight hammered forward with the hilt of the dagger, hammering the bronze end of the weapon into the side of the Kobalan’s helm. It was not a killing blow, not even a serious one, but it was enough to knock the man off his feet, for a moment blocking the tent opening and keeping the rest of the Kobalans from surging forward.

It would not be enough. Already another half dozen men in black were thrusting their way through the entrance on the other side of the tent. Several shouts of alarm went up from the front of the tent. Everything was unraveling for Guthrie and his companions, as he had feared it would. It was only a matter of minutes, perhaps seconds, before the Ursians would be captured again or killed.

Unless Guthrie did something.

Already slightly behind Kroff, the sergeant took a further step back. What he was going to attempt, he did not want the knight to witness, at least not directly. For the moment Kroff was too busy stabbing out with Guthrie’s dagger, keeping back the next Kobalan in line trying to exit the tent.

Guthrie tried to breath slowly, to calm himself. Dire circumstances meant dire actions. He forced his thoughts inward, seeking, searching, hoping to find the mental wellspring that allowed him to perform magic. Then, a blur along the edges of his sight, a weak metallic glow.

It would have to be enough.

As if it could add weight to his power, Guthrie thrust out his arms, nearly dropping his mace. A wind sprang up, as powerful as that of any storm, rolling forward and blowing hard toward the tent and the Kobalans inside. The very air came alive, as if filled with a thousand unseen demons dancing about. Whirlwinds, visible and the size of men, sprang into existence, a dozen or more of them, strewing about for a moment before flying together, flowing and growing into a vortex that reached up to the heights of any castle.

All of this happened in a matter of moments. The blasting wind knocked Kroff from his feet, the man rolling against the side of the tent. The Kobalan soldiers inside the tent were thrown back as if unseen ropes pulled them to the ground. The walls of the tent flapped and flapped, then became a roaring of beating sounds, like a giant drum being blasted over and over again by a giant with a mallet.

The large vortex flowed around itself, then steered directly into the tent, slashing through the black canvas walls, rolling over the soldiers, sucking them in and throwing them into the air.

Kroff managed to roll to one side away from the worst of the storm, coming up on a knee, his gray hair floating on the wind all around his face as he stared in amazement at the scene before him.

Guthrie lowered his arms, but the cyclone did not abate. If anything, it seemed to pick up speed on its own, twirling faster and catching more of the soldiers. The tattered remains of the tent were pulled within the whirling giant and thrust up and away.

With the large tent now gone, most of the rest of the Kobalan encampment was visible to the sergeant and the knight. Everywhere soldiers were fleeing on foot, many headed toward the ravine’s exit to the much broader valley beyond, some few taking the time to climb aboard steeds and making away in haste. The horses without riders were in a panic, screaming their fear as they rushed along, joining the mad fray to escape. All was a mess within the camp. Guthrie glanced around in fear, but of King Verkain there was no sign. Had the king escaped already? Was he hiding, waiting for a moment to strike? Guthrie could not worry about any of that now, not unless Verkain should appear.

He rushed forward and grasped Kroff by a shoulder. “The baby!” he yelled over the bellowing winds. “Do you know where we can find her?!”

Kroff shook his head, mesmerized by the sheer force of the magic and the carnage it brought before him. More tents were pulled free of their stakes, ripped apart and tossed around. Men were lifted off their feet and slammed into the ravine’s walls, some tossed higher to disappear into the mountains or to come plummeting down into the midst of those attempting to escape. It seemed the cyclone would never let up as it continued to grow and grow, as it continued to cycle its way into the fleeing Kobalans.

Now was the time to escape, Guthrie realized, even if they could not find the child. Perhaps they could come back for the babe. For a moment he feared for the girl, afraid she might have been caught up in all the tumult, but some second sense told him this was not the case, that the child was safe somewhere not too distant. Was it the magic that told him this? He did not know, but thought it likely.

Patting Kroff on a shoulder, Guthrie shouted over the blowing wind, “We need to leave! Now!”

The older man couldn’t tear his eyes away from the terrors before him for a moment, then he glanced back and nodded. As he did so, his eyes took note of something beyond Guthrie’s shoulder.

The sergeant looked back.

Sitting up was Zanbra. Her dark eyes were locked on Guthrie, boring into him.

That look of detestation was enough to make the sergeant shiver.

Chapter 3

Had the woman seen Guthrie performing magic? As her black eyes continued unblinking in his direction, he prepared himself to fight her if necessary. She was more experienced than Guthrie, probably better trained, but she currently lacked armor and a weapon. And Guthrie was nearly half her age. Kroff would likely come to the woman’s aid, but he too had little more than a dagger.

Before the woman or the sergeant could say anything, Kroff brushed up against Guthrie and shouted over the cyclone rampaging behind them, “You know these lands better than we! Where do we go?”

Seeing Zanbra was not spouting anything nor jumping to her feet to fight, Guthrie tore his gaze away from her and looked around. Most of the tents were now gone, as were the Kobalan warriors. There was no sign of the largest of the tents, where Guthrie had been held, nor of King Verkain. Here and there were scattered personal belongings, some few weapons and cooking implements and the like, but little else. There was the small forest of trees where Guthrie had once found Dartague horses tied, but now no steeds were to be found. Beyond those trees was the narrow, back trail out of the valley. It was the only way.

But Guthrie would not leave just yet.

“
Where is the babe?” he shouted to Kroff, the winds growing more distant but still as loud as a surf rampaging.

“
Forget the child,” Kroff yelled back. “She is with the Dartague!”

Guthrie had no idea what the knight meant, but Kroff did not seem the sort of man who would leave a baby in peril. If he believed Ildra’s child was safe, then Guthrie would take his work for it.

The sergeant glanced to Zanbra. Her gaze had shifted, now more hazy looking as she took in the damage around us. “Can you walk?” Guthrie asked.

Her eyes darted to him again, hard as steel, but she nodded and climbed to her feet, swaying for a moment.

Glancing back once more, Guthrie saw the cyclone he had created was gradually moving along the length of the narrow valley, driving the Kobalans further and further away.
Let it drive them all the way back to Kobalos for all I care
, he thought.

Then it was time to move, before the storm would die and the Kobalans could regroup. Guthrie had no idea how long his magic would last, but for the time being he still sensed the golden signs of magic around him.

“Come,” he said, lowering his voice to a more tolerable level now that the cyclone was moving on. “Follow me.”

He made a straight line for the trees, the two knights following but stopping long enough for each to grab up a sword, Guthrie noting Kroff also snagged a swash of torn canvas from one of the fallen tents. As the three reached the small forest, Kroff handed the dagger back to Guthrie, who sheathed the weapon. Before going further, Guthrie gave Zanbra another look, but she kept her eyes intentionally away from his own.

She knew. He knew she knew. But she needed him for now to get out of this mess.

Guthrie shrugged and turned back to the trees. He would face Zanbra later. What would come would come. But he felt safer when Kroff stepped into line between him and the woman.

Working through the trees took little time, but all the while Guthrie was wishing for the Dartague horses which had been tied here a week or more back. At least he still wore his studded leather armor and the padding beneath, but his companions were garbed in only basic clothing, little more than undergarments, and there were no shoes on their feet. Though the temperature had risen of late, this was still winter, and the three were days, perhaps weeks, from the nearest friendlies, especially while on foot. Unless something changed, there was little chance the three could survive more than a matter of days. Without food and water, proper clothing and shelter, the elements would slowly wear down the sergeant and the knights. It was enough to nearly make Guthrie cry out in frustration. It seemed all he did any more was trudge along with a tight belly, frozen limbs, and an enemy at his back. At least the glow of magic was fading from his vision, leaving him to believe the storm he had brought about was probably dwindling away somewhere far behind him.

Coming out on the other side of the small copse, the trail into the mountains lay before them.

Zanbra called the group to a halt, causing Guthrie to look back at the woman.

“
This is the way we traveled before,” she pointed out, still not looking directly at the sergeant.

Guthrie nodded in agreement. “Yes, but I went this way once before with Captain Werner, and we did not encounter that temple or any magic. With Ildra dead and Verkain ... wherever he is ... I think we are safe along this path.”

Zanbra looked to Spear Kroff. “What say you?”

The burly fellow shrugged. “What choice do we have? It’s either this or go back and face the Kobalans. Personally, I’d like to put a little distance between them and us.”

Now it was Zanbra who nodded. Without glancing at the sergeant, she waved him forward. “Carry on.”

Guthrie glared at her for a moment, wondering how much longer he had before she would either say something to Kroff or attempt to kill the sergeant herself, but then he let it go. They had other enemies to escape at the moment.

Turning away, Guthrie took the lead with Kroff behind and Zanbra bringing up the rear. For the third time in a matter of weeks, Guthrie plodded along through the winding, gray trail that left little room for more than single file marching. Walls of stone reached up on either side, and all a person had to do was reach out to touch them. It was a boring route, one that dulled the nerves.

Just as Guthrie was beginning to lull himself into a near trance, one foot in front of the other, Kroff called out for the group to come to a halt.

“We’ve traveled far enough, I think,” the Spear said, kneeling on the ground and breaking out the small sheet of canvas he had picked up earlier. Then he lifted a hand toward Guthrie. “Your knife, if you please?”

Guthrie handed over the small blade, then watched as Kroff cut out four pieces of canvas a little bigger than large napkins. The Spear worked at splicing away a half dozen thick strings from one edge of the remaining sheet.

Looking up at his companions, Zanbra and Guthrie keeping their distance from one another, the Spear offered a grin. “Zanbra and I need shoes,” he explained, glancing down at his bare feet, nearly blue from walking on the cold stone ground.

Then he passed the woman some of the coarse rags he had created, as well as several of the strings. Soon enough the two were wearing makeshift footwear, the black cloth tied around and above their ankles. Kroff stood and returned the dagger to Guthrie.

Before the group could travel further, Kroff asked the others, “What happened back there?”

Guthrie glanced to Zanbra but saw her lips were remaining shut. “What do you mean?”

“That heavy wind, the storm, whatever it was?” Kroff asked. “From where did it spring? It had to be magic.”

Zanbra did not offer an opinion, so Guthrie felt safe for the moment. He shrugged. “Perhaps from Verkain.”

“That makes no sense,” Kroff said. “Why would he bring that upon his own men?”

Glancing once more to Zanbra, the sergeant saw the woman was still not talking nor looking directly at him. For whatever reason, perhaps fearing her lesser officer would question her, Zanbra was keeping quiet. Maybe she only wanted a moment alone with Kroff to explain what she had witnessed back at the camp. Guthrie could not know her thoughts. But he was already lying, and she seemed not inclined to stop him. Why not push a little further before Kroff’s own curiosity brought forth something terrible between the three?

“Maybe something went wrong with Verkain’s spell,” Guthrie suggested, not meaning a word of it. “Maybe magic is wild. I don’t know.”

For the first time since she had stood back in the camp, Zanbra’s eyes locked on those of the sergeant. Yes, she most definitely knew he was lying.

“Perhaps,” Kroff said, shaking his head. “It just doesn’t seem to make sense.”

Hoping to push off this conversation until another time, Guthrie asked, “What about Ildra’s baby?”

“I guess you were unconscious the whole while we were in camp?” Kroff asked.

“
Most of it,” Guthrie said, “at least until the end, when I managed to slip out of my bonds.” Lies upon lies. They kept piling up, but at least for now they were keeping the sergeant from more immediate danger.

“
Then you missed the Dartague warriors who appeared when the Kobalans set up camp,” Kroff said. “Apparently there was a big meeting between Verkain and several Dartague chieftains. Zanbra and I didn’t hear much of it, but we did learn a few things. I do know the Dartague took the babe with them when they left, and that they were not overly pleased.”

Zanbra stepped forward. “We can discuss all this later.” She glanced back the way they had come. “For now, we need to put more miles between us and the Kobalans, in case they should decide to hunt us down.” Then she glanced to the sky. “And we will need shelter soon.”

“There will be a cave somewhere ahead,” Guthrie offered, “but I do not know how far. I was asleep on horseback when Werner brought me there.”

Zanbra glared at the sergeant one more time, then she turned away as if spurning a lover.

For the first time, Kroff sensed the tension, but he said nothing about it for the moment. “All right, then. Let us be on our way.”

They trudged forward, tired and growing colder, drooping into a stubborn silence. To Guthrie it felt as if they tramped along for decades. The constant walking never seemed to end. The sky began to grow dark. The sergeant was sleeping on his feet, one boot slowly ahead of the other, walking, walking, walking. Late afternoon became evening and the dark came early within the confines of the trail, only a hint of blue still in the sky directly above. Eventually even that faded away until there was only blackness upon all sides.

At this point Kroff suggested they halt for the night, the Spear offering to take the first watch. Guthrie took the second watch, not wanting to drowse while Zanbra was awake and Kroff asleep, forcing the sergeant to remain roused when she took the final watch.

The night was a long one, and cold. At least there was no wind, the narrow and crooked path blocking the howls and the blowing that reigned above. The rock floor and walls of the trail seemed to seep with cold, a cold that worked its way through cloth and leather and flesh and into the very bones. The chill made everyone stiff in the morning, and the lack of food left their stomachs rumbling. Guthrie thanked Ashal there was no more snow upon the ground.

Looking ahead, their options appeared dim. They were already tired and hungry, the bruises upon their body from being manhandled by the Kobalans not helping. Something would have to be done to insure their survival. Guthrie realized it might be possible for him to use magic to save them. Maybe he could create a cooking fire and summon up some food. He did not know if any of this was possible, but he would be willing to try if their situation did not improve for the better within the next day or so. Somehow he would have to find a way to try his magic while the others were not around or were not watching, perhaps during his watch of the next night.

No food, no drink, little protection for their bodies, the group stomped their feet in an effort to warm themselves, then silently began their labors for the day, more walking. As soldiers they were familiar with long hikes, Guthrie especially as a member of the Ursian regular forces, but Zanbra and Kroff were not young, both in their early fifties, and while both were strong, the recent events and the environment were beginning to weigh heavily upon them. By noon of that day, both knights were looking ten years older. Which nearly caused Guthrie to chuckle, him figuring he was not looking all that well himself.

Eventually they came to the small cave inset in a northern wall of the trail. Guthrie had rested here once before. He motioned for the others to rest, then suggested he would try to find some kindling and perhaps something to eat. He mentioned his former companion, Captain Werner, had managed to scrounge up some rock lizards for a small meal, and Guthrie had hopes he could do the same. His current companions were silent on the subject, morose as they plopped onto the cold stone floor of the cave, only Kroff offering a nod as if he had heard Guthrie’s words.

Moving off by himself ahead of the knights, the sergeant glanced back at his companions, the two closing their eyes and leaning against one another for support and warmth. He did not know how much longer they could hold out. He would do as he had suggested, hunt for kindling and something to eat, but if that did not work, he would be forced to make use of his magic to keep them alive, especially as he had no other way to start a fire, even if he could find a batch of dried twigs and branches.

The twigs and branches turned out to be easy enough to find. The trail was littered here and their with dead scrub brush, even some few small dead trees in places. Food was another matter. Guthrie wished for a crossbow or even a sling, nearly hoping his magic would make such weapons appear, but this did not happen. He did find a few lizards of the same kind he and Werner had munched upon, but the sergeant had no luck in catching any. He tried throwing stones, but the lizards were fast and went into hiding.