Refuge: Kurt's Quest (10 page)

The archers had now switched to regular arrows,
which gave them quite a bit more accuracy.  And they had taken out the helmsman
on the poop, and forced everyone else to cover. 
I will bring the Emperor
the people he seeks, and he will reward me greatly.
  And that was all the
Commander could think of while his ship rowed through the gap in the ice that
the mages had opened.  That he had this enemy, and there was nothing they could
do about it.

*     *     *

“I would call that a tactical error,” said
Kurt, crouched down and holding a shield over Fenris and the Captain.

Jackie crouched near him, holding her own
shield in place, while Garios stood beside her sheltering under his own Mithral
device.  James was the only one not crouching down, standing out in the open in
the midst of the flames and the smoke, again absorbing the fire and heat. 
Arrows were dropping around him as well, their shafts converting to ash and
semi-molten heads falling off balance to the deck.

“What do you want me to do?” yelled the young
mage in a voice that sounded like the roar of flames.

“Wait until the approaching ship is within
thirty meters,” yelled Kurt over the cacophony of sound.  “Then kill everyone
on the deck of the far vessel.  Try not to harm the rowers if you can.”

“And the near one?”

“I have plans for it,” said the leader, as
another ball of pitch flew over and struck the mid-deck of the cog.  He watched
with concerned eyes as the flames ran up the mast.  “The rest of you, act when
I do, and we might not be swimming for it after all.”

*     *     *

“Archers,” yelled out the Commander, raising
his right hand in the air, then dropping it.  “Sweep the decks.  The rest of
you men,” he called, looking over at the twenty-eight armored men with swords
and spears in hand.  “Prepare to board and take that ship.”

“They’re going sink soon, anyway, sir,” said
the First Officer.  “Why risk our men?”

“Because the Emperor would like to have one of
their, Immortals, as prisoner, so that he might find out what makes them tick,”
said the Captain, angry that he had to explain himself to a subordinate.  “And
there are two of them aboard that ship.  I would capture at least one of them,
if either is still alive.”

The other officer gave a head nod of grudging
agreement. 
He doesn’t have to like it.  He just has to obey, if he wants to
live.

The archers fired a couple of volleys at the
deck of the cog, while the galley drew closer.  There was no return fire.  In
fact, there was no movement on the deck, other than the pillar of fire that was
swirling on the poop.  And the mages at the bow of the galley were keeping a
close eye on that, ready to intervene.

Not ready enough, obviously, as the gout of flame
flew from the pillar in an instant.  It hit the other galley in a perfect sheet
that swept the deck without harming any of the rowers.  The mages, crew and
marines were not so lucky, as the flame torched them, then blasted their dead
and dying bodies off the deck and into the water.

*     *     *

“Now,” yelled out Kurt, coming up from his
crouch, revealing himself over the rail of the cog.

Drake fired off the energy he had absorbed from
the burning ship, sending a relatively narrow flare of fire across the two
hundred meters separating them from the far galley.  Kurt couldn’t tell what
the effect was on the people below deck, but everyone on deck was burned
severely and tossed from the ship, just as the big German had wanted.

Kurt turned, drew his arm back, and threw the
large spear at the enemy ship.  The shaft hissed through the air, hitting one
of the mages on the bow in the chest, punching through and into a marine
standing behind him.  Both men were lifted into the air by the force of the
spear, falling to ground by mid-deck.  Jackie threw her spear just a moment
later, hitting the second mage in the neck, taking his head off in a spray of
blood.

Fenris was on his feet just behind them,
sending off an arrow that took out one of the enemy archers.  He had another on
the string before the first hit, and sent it on its way as well.  Garios was at
his side, casting a spell of protection that dropped a half dozen of the foe’s
arrows from the air.

“Let’s go,” yelled Kurt, taking some quick
steps back, then running at the railing.  At two meters he jumped into the air,
his feet hitting the railing as he moved forward, bringing his body down into a
crouch and springing forward.  It was thirty meters to the ship, too great a
distance for a normal human to jump, even without wearing full plate.  Kurt was
over four times stronger than a normal human, and his plate weighed about as
much as heavy leather armor.  He flew the distance to hit with his heels on the
bow decking of the galley.  As soon as he hit the deck his sword was out of the
sheath, and he was swinging at the closest marine.

That marine tried to get his short sword in the
way with the reflexes of an Ellala.  Unfortunately, Kurt, for all his bulk, was
even faster, and his big blade made it past the guard of the Ellala and through
the man’s light chain.  Two more tried to mob him before he could get his blade
out of the dying Ellala.  The one to the left screamed out as a red glowing
blade thrust through his chest, flames shooting from his mouth.

“About time you got here,” he told Jackie with
a smile.  He pulled his sword free and overhead, slicing in at the next marine
and crushing his helmet and skull.  Jackie took off the arm of the Ellala in
front of her with
Ice
, then kicked the screaming man out of the way.

The fight seemed to go on for hours in slow
motion, as the two Immortals went into overdrive, striking down man after man. 
There were no reinforcements coming to their aid, though Fenris did take out an
Ellala every once and awhile with his bow.

“Surrender,” said Kurt to the remaining five
Ellala, who had backed up to the stern of the ship.  The ship was dead in the
water, no one manning the steering oar.  Two of the men facing them had the
look of officers, while the other three were obviously just common soldiers.

“Kill them,” ordered the more senior of the
officers to his men.  They looked at each other, stepped forward, and dropped
their swords to the deck.

“Traitors,” yelled the officer, stepping
forward and plunging his own sword through the back of one of the soldiers.

Jackie grabbed one of the other soldiers and
pulled him out of the way, while Kurt jumped forward and slammed a fist into
the officer’s face, knocking him down and out.

“These people are fucking crazy,” growled
Jackie, looking down at the dead soldier, killed by his own commander.

“Maybe we can get some information from him,
anyway,” said Kurt, kneeling down and checking the life signs of the Ellala
officer, then wrapping a leather cord around the man’s wrists.  He looked up at
the other, younger officer.  “I need you to translate for me to the slaves.”

“Why would you want to talk to them?” asked the
confused officer.  “They do nothing but obey.”

“Because they are no longer slaves, and I need
those who would volunteer to help us.  The rest can take the other ship and go
free.”

“If we can get enough of them,” said Jackie,
looking down into the waist of the ship, seeing the emaciated beings sitting
there, looking up at the people standing over them, question marks on every
face as they wondered what their fate would be.

*     *     *

Marshal Ellisandra stood on the pitching deck
of the two masted carrack, looking back at the other two ships in their
squadron.  All three were eight hundred ton vessels, with crews of over a
hundred sailing men, and another two hundred warriors aboard each.  He would
have preferred war galleys, but there would not have been much room for land
warriors, after subtracting all of the crew, and especially the rowing slaves,
that took up so much of their space.

“The Captain tells me we should see the
Northern Peninsula in about five days,” said
Glassini Ellishanana, her blue eyes
sending a chill up his spine as she walked up the ladder onto the poop.

Of all of us aboard this ship, even the damned
Ogre champion, she is the one I fear the most
, he thought, watching the lithe
movements of the master assassin as she walked up to the railing beside him. 
Even with her look of total relaxation, he knew she was ready to deal death. 
And he knew she had been set upon this quest to keep an eye on himself, to make
sure he did not betray mission or Emperor.

“That is what Master Janaikos says as well,” he
replied, referencing the Archmage that was in charge of their contingent of
arcane magic users.  “And then our real journey begins.”

“Savage lands and savage peoples,” said the
adventure loving Ellala assassin with a smile.

“More than you can handle?” asked the Marshal
with raised eyebrow.

“I would think not.  And if something is, that
mass of muscle Krug will surely be able to handle them.”

The Marshal gave a head gesture of agreement. 
After all, they had six hundred imperial soldiers with them, almost all Ellala,
except for the small contingent of loyal Conyastaya archers.  They were heavily
armored, and all master swordsmen.  Along with them were over a score of mages,
and almost as many priests, a formidable contingent of magic users.

And we’ll be facing what?  Large tribes of
Nords and Grogatha, possibly Trolls and Ogres, shamans.  Just to get to the
temple, of which we’re not even sure of the location.  And then through its
traps and trials.
 
That was another reason the Assassin was along, she and her group of stealthy
thieves and spies.  They would be depended on to find the way through the more
mundane traps, the ones that would evade the senses of the magic users.

Do we have enough?
he thought, looking
forward, trying to pierce the distance with his eyes, though he knew it was
useless. 
There are tales of armies of legend seeking these prizes, and only
a few feverish and dying men returning.

“When we have real food?” demanded the huge
Ogre, climbing up the creaking ladder and then stomping across the wooden
deck.  “Krug tired of this hard food, not enough to feed a skinny Ellala.”

At least this one fears nothing.  All we have
to do it point him at something we want killed, and he will try his hardest. 
Even if he doesn’t succeed, he may distract them long enough for the rest of us
to get away.  And then what?
he thought, looking back at the rolling
waves. 
Go back to the Empire, and face that demon who rules us.  I might as
well throw myself into the pits of hell right then and there, and avoid the
trip.
  He looked back at the Assassin, aware of the faint smile on her lips
as she returned his gaze.  And knowing that he would not have to throw himself
into the pit were he to fail.  This one would do it for him.

Chapter Eight

The galley moved through the water, its sharp
prow bursting through waves with splashes of liquid that misted over the
vessel.  The rowers, now free men, pulled at the oars, a steady pull that moved
the ship closer to its destination with every repetition.  The men were
actually laughing and joking with each other.  They had eaten regular meals for
the first time in months, and while that had not led to total recovery, they
were still stronger than they had been.

Kurt breathed in the sea air as he watched the
horizon.  The ships they were chasing had to be days ahead, if they hadn’t
already reached their destination.

“Too bad we couldn’t take both ships,” said
Captain Alred, who had been given the galley in place of his lost cog.

Kurt grunted in agreement.  They had given the
galley slaves their freedom, and almost three quarters had volunteered to man
the oars on their mission.  Which left a quarter that had not.  They had given
one ship to those who opted out, and enough other men to fully man that ship,
then had taken the slightly over manned vessel as their own. 
And the men
will be in much better shape by the time we reach the Northern Peninsula.  Strong
enough to guard the ship while we are away?  Maybe even augment the force we
send into the interior?  We can only hope.

“How many days to the Peninsula, Captain?” Kurt
asked the Nord.

“I think about four days, at our current rate,”
said Alred, holding up a finger to test the wind that was also adding to their
motive power.  At night it would be the only thing providing power, as the
rowers would sleep through the night to regain their strength for the next day.

“What can you tell us about the Peninsula?”
Kurt asked the Captain, who, with some of his crew, were the only ones aboard
who had actually seen it.

“Cold as hell,” said Alred, looking out over
the water.  “Snow never melts on the mountains, and even the upper valleys are
frigid year round.  Until you get near the smoking mountains.  You can see them
from the fjords, throwing smoke and ash into the air.”

“Volcanos,” said James with a smile.  “Sounds
like my kind of place.  Unlimited power.”

“As long as you keep it under control, young
Mage,” said Fenris, receiving a hard glare in return.

Later, when most of the crew had gone to bed,
sleeping anywhere they could stretch out, another unused to luxury for men who
had slept chained to the bench, while the ship continued forward under sail
alone, Kurt stood in the bow, his mind too active to sleep.  He turned as he
heard someone approach, picking their way through the sleeping bodies on the
deck.

“You could not sleep either, my friend,” he
said to the Ellala, whose night vision gave him an advantage on the night
cloaked deck.  Kurt could see him just as well, his vision, of a different
class, able to penetrate the night with light augmentation instead of the
infrared of the Elf.

“None of my people sleep more than three or
four hours a night,” said the Commander, leaning against the opposite rail. 
“It has something to do with our metabolism, the same thing that causes us
hunger every four hours or so.”  The Elf looked out over the water, the only
interesting sight at this time.  He sighed and looked back at the Immortal.

“Is something on your mind, my friend?” asked
Kurt, gazing at the face of the man he had come to regard as one of his closest
friends on this world.

“I was just wishing that we had another mage
with us,” said the Ellala.

“You do not trust James?”

“I don’t trust his training,” said the Elf,
giving a very human head shake.  “It’s not that he lacks talent.  He already
controls more power than any other wizard I have ever seen.  More than an
archmage.  And all natural ability.”

“And you think he would be more useful with
training?”

“Of course.  Right now all he knows how to do
is throw around fire.  Oh, and maybe a few minor spells that any novice could
do, if not with as much power behind it.  But he lacks many of the spells any
master mage could cast.  Divination, scrying, spells of protection.  Things we
could really count on.”

“Well,” said Kurt, nodding at the Elf.  “He’s
what the Goddess wanted us to have with us, and he is what we have.  So there
must be a reason.”

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t have him as well,”
said Fenris.  “I just wish we had other mages to take up the other duties of a
magic user.  Garios can cover some of the spells, especially protection, but he
can’t do it all.”

“If we find one along the way, I will try to
hire him, or her,” said Kurt, rubbing his forehead.  “There is really nothing
else I can do.  Now, excuse me, Master Fenris.  I believe I will try to get
some sleep while there is still time.”

Fenris looked back at the two men who were on
watch, standing by opposite side railings.  “I will stay up for a little
while.  And probably get something to eat.”

“Do not worry so much, my friend,” said Kurt as
he made his way through the path between the slumbering bodies.  “Your Goddess
sent us on this mission, and I’m sure she did not mean for us to fail.” 
But
even the Gods of this world don’t always get what they want.  I pray this is
not one of those situations.

*     *     *

The Emperor looked into his scrying ball and
said the words that would establish contact.   The ball was obscured by mist,
then cleared, and he found himself looking into the face of Grand Marshal
Ellessa Ellisandra.  He could make out the hulking form of Krug in the
background, the massive Ogre warrior glaring at the ball whose magic he
probably didn’t understand.  High Priest of Bothar Jakisanda Millistara was
also in the room, which had to be the guest cabin on the Imperial Cog they were
riding.  There would not be room for any more of the team in the cabin, but the
Emperor knew that they were aboard the ship.

“We should make landfall in another day, my
Lord,” said the former Field Army Commander.  “From there it will take from
five to ten days to reach the temple.”

“Try to make it five,” said the Emperor,
glaring into the ball.  “These humans are getting dangerously close to the
heart of the Empire.”

The face of the Marshal took on a striken
look.  “There is a lot of mountainous terrain in between the coast and the
temple, territory teeming with hostile Nords and Orcs.  And it  is hidden as
well.  We know the general location, and have some clues, but no one has been
there in thousands of years.  Or at least no one we know of.”

“Take whatever forces you need to get through
those hostile tribes,” growled the Emperor.  “Take the crews of all three ships
if you need them.  I don’t care about the ships, or their crews.  All I care
about are those artifacts.  And I care little for the armor or the sword, as
long as I have that crown.”

“Yes, Majesty,” said the Marshal, bowing his
head.  “It will be as you say.”  The Marshal looked up, and the Emperor could
see the anger in his eyes that he tried to hide, to no avail.  “Any word on our
followers?”

“They have left the port of the Nordican
capital in a cog,” said the Emperor, thinking back on the report from his spy
master.  “The navy tried to intercept them at sea, with two war galleys and a
dragon.”

“By try, I take it they weren’t successful in
the intercept,” said the Marshal.  “Are they still in pursuit of the enemy.”

“They intercepted the cog the humans were using,”
said the Emperor, scowling.  “But we think the humans destroyed one of the galleys,
captured the other, and killed the dragon.  Since then, we have lost them.”

“We will get to the temple before they do, your
Majesty,” declared the Marshal.  “On that I will stake my life.”

“You already have, Marshal Ellisandra,” said
the Emperor, waving a hand the sever the connection.  “You already have.”

*     *     *

Son of a whore
, thought Ellessa as
the connection faded. 
I do my best for him, and still he threatens my
life.  When none of his other generals have accomplished much against them. 
He
looked at the hulking Ogre, who he knew was as much there to make sure the
Marshal did as he was told as to provide muscle for the lesser artifacts. 
And
when the crown is on my brow, we will see who you obey, you brainless oaf.  And
we will see who will rule on that day.

The Marshal dismissed the Ogre and the Death
Mage from his cabin, then sat down at the small desk that had been provided for
him.  He looked at the map of the Northern Peninsula, several million square
kilometers of mountains, valleys and deep fjords slicing in from the sea. 
There was one fjord in particular, stretching sixty kilometers into the
peninsula, a flooded valley.  And at its end was several thousand square miles
of high mountains and valleys, in which the lost temple resided.  There was one
valley marked on the map, where the scholars in A’atapona thought the temple
might be located.  But that was only an educated guess.  If that valley even truly
existed, and was not just a figment of some ancient traveler’s imagination.

And I have the Ogre, almost a score each of
high level mages and priests, a quartet of assassins, and six hundred soldiers,
including the seamen I can press into service. That is, if I want to leave the
ships unguarded, easy prey for the first reavers in longships who come upon
them.  So, maybe take two hundred soldiers with me, and leave the sailors to
secure the ships.

That thought in mind, he repaired to the deck,
to take in the salt air and fresh breeze that was pushing them toward their
destination.  He looked up at the two square sails on both of the masts,
remembering traveling on similar ships when he was young, several thousand
years before. 
And here we are, just as slow, just as dangerous
.  The
only things the ship had going for it was it was safer in deep water than the
faster galleys, and could carry more cargo and troops with its wider beam.

I wonder what kind of ships the humans will
introduce
,
he thought, moving to the rail and looking out over the choppy water.  A
dolphin jumped from the waves and splashed back, followed by another. 
Their
ships were probably like their war machines, able to move under their own
power, able to move more quickly than any vessel we can imagine.  But they had
to have other forms between what they had just before they came here, and what
we have.  Better sailing vessels?  Probably.  And why are they so innovative?  We
are as intelligent as they, in most cases more so, though they have the
occasional genius that leaves our smartest minds in the dust.  Could it be
because they don’t live as long, and have a desire to progress before they go
into the ground?

All good questions.  And all unanswerable at
this time.  Right now he had to worry about getting to his target and getting
the artifacts, before the humans and their allies found it.  He looked up at
the sun, then at the poop deck where the captain, and senior naval officer of
the small squadron, walked.  He headed that way, formulating some questions
that the man might be able to answer.

*     *     *

James at in the front of the galley, keeping to
himself while he worked on his magic, using the book one of the Conyastaya
mages who had been teaching the newcomers had given him.  The book was in a
language he couldn’t read on his own, but an easy spell muttered before his
study made it intelligible to his eyes.

Invisibility
, he thought, already thinking of ways
he could use this spell.  He said the words, made the gestures with his hands,
then pointed to himself.  He watched as his hands faded away, and the effect
spread up his arms. 
Yes
, he thought, imagining himself sneaking up on
enemies before torching them with his fire.  And then the effect stopped, just
above his elbows.  “No,” he spat, realizing that though he had the power, he
hadn’t been able to channel it properly.  He said the counterword, and his
hands became visible once more.

One more time
, he thought, saying the words once
again, trying to make the pronunciation as perfect as possible.  He made the
gestures once more, concentrating on doing them as he had seen the Master Mage
perform.  Again his hands faded away, and this time the effect spread up his
arms to his shoulders.  But a glance down told him that the rest of his body
was still visible.

“Dammit,” he cursed, throwing the book to the
deck.  “Why the hell can’t I get this right?”

“Because you need someone to watch you make the
motions,” said Fenris, walking up to the young man.  “Someone to hear you say
the words.  Until you have them down to perfection.”

“And they can only be said that way?”

“Of course not,” said Fenris, leaning against
the rail across from Drake.  “There are different spells in different languages
that accomplish the same thing.  The most important part of a spell is belief.  That
is how new spells are formed.  It is how your infantrymen are being trained to
put a magical barrier around their unit.”

“Well, I still have some problems with belief,”
said James, glaring at the Elf.  “I was a scientist, after all.  The natural
world was the basis of my belief.”