Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1) (42 page)

The guards were the same two that had been at the tents door last time he and Nim had gone in, and they both quickly saluted. Victor saw the smirk that came to Nim's face just then, but he didn't comment on it. He was too busy hoping that Zander had come back from his patrol before theirs had, and hadn't left again yet. When Nim opened the tent flap and they entered Victor let loose a sigh of relief that almost landed him on the floor as his body released all of the tension he had unknowingly been storing. Nim placed a hand onto Victor's shoulder to steady him.

Zander Halcyon stood at the right side of the giant table that was also a map. He looked up from the map and smiled, but his grin quickly slid from his face when he saw how tired Victor looked. Stewart Cantel stood as he had the last time, with his back towards the door, examining the map that showed all of the intel they had gathered thus-far. Victor had heard stories about Stewart Cantel over the last two weeks from Nim's squad. According to them there very good reasons that this small man was High Commander of the knights. From all that Victor had heard, he thought that if he threw his knife at the man's back he would be able to catch it without looking away from the map. Victor had seen some of the man's speed when he was under his tutelage for a short period of time, and even that little bit had been astounding. He may not have the brute strength that General Theromvore possessed, but his speed insured that he would be in and out of an enemy's defenses before they knew what was happening.

The High Commander must have noticed Zander's frown, because he turned around quickly heading straight for Victor. “What have you been doing to the boy Nim? He can barely stand.”

Nim rolled his eyes as Victor ineffectually tried slapping away Stewart Cantel's hands as the man picked him up and brought him over to a cot in the corner of the tent. “Don't coddle the boy.” Nim said defensively.

“Coddle… Coddle! I'm just putting him here so I don't have to see him pass out halfway through our conversation.” High Commander Cantel had his hand on Victor's chest so that he couldn't sit up.

“I'm fine.” Victor said before a big yawn overtook him.

“If you're fine, than Nim is the worst card player I've ever seen.” Zander said laughing.

“Hey,” Nim said sounding even more defensive. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Just that I don't know a man who knows you that will play cards with you anymore.” Zander said grinning

“I don't cheat.” Nim said in a sulky voice.

“I have no doubt of that. It is a little amazing how you seem to know a deck so well though, but that is beside the point. What have you been doing to the boy?”

“I swear to Thom, if people keep talking about me like I am not here I'm going to cut out some hearts.” Victor said angrily. All three men looked at Victor with surprise, but laughed when he yawned again. Victor quit trying to force himself up in a great sigh of defeat.

“No disrespect meant Victor.” Cantel said moving his hand away. He looked at Nim expecting an answer.

“Well, the squad decided that they were going to teach him when we had breaks. Trenton took to him best when he had recovered.” Nim said.

“Trenton, that's the Half-Ogre Battle Sorcerer in your squad right. Trenton Grimbash I believe.” Zander asked quizzically.

Nim nodded. “Victor was very interested in some of the spells that Trenton was casting, and when everyone found out that the boy had a knack for… well, just about everything they all took it upon themselves to teach their trade to him. That didn't leave much time for him to rest, but he was sleeping well until two days ago. That's when he had a extrasensory communication with Shawnrik. He hasn't been able to sleep since.”

Zander Halcyon, Tetriarch of the Sorcerers, and Stewart Cantel, High Commander of the Knights of the Protectorate both turned their heads back towards Victor. He didn't like the looks they were giving him. He knew that as military men, they would both think first of how they could use that ability to some greater purpose. The next though he knew Zander would have would be to study him like a bug under a looking glass. The next question that Stewart Cantel asked though surprised Victor.

“You said Victor had an interest in the spells Grimbash had cast? From what I remember, his spells are rather specialized. What were you fighting?”

“Oh, didn't I mention we ran into a Dracair patrol our third day out?” Nim said nonchalantly.

“Why Nim, no you didn't.” Cantel said with a look that said he would brook no foolishness.

Nim Sighed. “We ran into a patrol about three leagues southeast of Asylum near Undrik's rise.

“What's Undrik's rise?” Victor asked Nim quickly, but it was Stewart Cantel that answered him with a hint of pride in his voice.

“It's the rise where Undrik Raffalion fought off two Dracair patrols alone before succumbing to his wounds. When they found the bodies, their were other Dracair tracks that had come along afterwards, but they hadn't disturbed the ground. If there is one thing the Dracair respect it is strength, and that day Undrik showed his strength with four warriors, and two dreadnaughts headless on or near the rise. the Protectorate buried him under that rise even though it was in Dracair territory.”

Victor watched as the three men in the room bowed their heads in a moment of silence in remembrance of an honored dead. It was the tales of men like him that kept the Protectorate strong, and it was men like that who were the strength of the Protectorate.

“So you met a patrol?” Zander asked quizzically when the moment of silence was over. “We didn't see even a track farther south.”

Nim nodded. “Normal patrol, two Dracani and a Magnus Dracani.”

“I wish you wouldn't call them that, why can't you just say warriors, and a dreadnaught like everyone else?” Stewart Cantel said peevishly.

“Just because we give them a different name doesn't eliminate the first. Ignoring that something exists is just the first step to Ignorance.” Nim chided.

“Always instructing,” the High Commander said shaking his head. “Did you find out what the patrol was after?”

“No, from all I could gather they were just scouting the area. Whoever is in charge of that rabble of Orcs, and Goblin-kin probably requested a competent scouting party.” Nim walked over to the table that contained the map of all of the troop movements in the area as he spoke.

“I think they are going to move soon. There is only so long you can keep an army like that at bay. From what I have gathered you want me to scry to see if Ashur is in trouble?” Zander said walking up beside Nim.

“No my friend, I know they are in trouble.” Nim saw the questioning look that Zander shot him and forestalled any question by speaking quickly. “I had Bredwin the Dwarven Cleric in my patrol do a divining, and someone, or something blocked him pretty hard.”

“Oh, I see.” The Tetriarch of the Sorcerers walked to the tent flap and barked an order. “I need a mirror, a big one.” A moment of silence ensued. “Did I stutter?”

“No Tetriarch Halcyon, I'll get right on it.” The soldier said to the sound of boot steps running quickly.

“I think between you and I we might scare that boy into retirement.” Nim said with a chuckle.

Zander turned back into the tent laughing. “He's a good lad, just a little green. He'll be back soon.

The three men stood talking at the table about what was going to happen in the coming days, when the soldier returned with a full length mirror being carried by himself, and three other soldiers he must have picked up along the way.

“That is perfect.” Zander Halcyon said examining the mirror. “Good work private.”

“Thank you sir.” The guard said saluting, and the men with him did so too when they had set the mirror up. Stewart Cantel gave them a salute that dismissed them all, and walked over to the mirror.

“I never liked the fact that mages could do this. It's an invasion of privacy.”

“It may be that my friend soldier,” Zander said to Cantel, “but it is also a useful tool for finding things other people don't want found.”

Unlike the preparations and incantations that Bredwin had gone through when he was diving Zander Halcyon's use of the mirror was silent and almost instantaneous.

“I took out the scry to a general area, so that I most likely wouldn't encounter interference at that distance.” The image got closer and closer until it stopped with a sound much like a pealing bell. “Ah, there we are.” The image before them was of a camp of Blood Orcs. They seemed to be in a box canyon, and didn't appear to be going anywhere anytime soon. “That's a nice sized camp. Ashur, Dunnagan, and the boy are in there.”

“Well then, I don't see any reason we should wait, you have to go get them Nim.” High Commander Cantel stated.

“But what about the war?” Nim asked cautiously. It was obvious that he wanted to go and rescue his friends, but he also knew he had a duty here.

“We need Colonel Theromvore here. He is one of the best morale boosters for the troops. You and Zander help morale, but if all three of you are here, the men will feel invincible. You must go get him without delay.”

“Yes sir.” Nim said saluting with a smirk.

“Zander you go with them.” Forestalling any protest Cantel held up his hand. “That's an order. You can travel the lines of power, and it will be much faster this way.”

“Yes Sir!” Zander said Saluting smartly.

Rolling his eyes High Commander Cantel turned back towards the map. “Leave in the morning. Tonight we have some things to discuss about the…”

Victor tried to listen to the conversation, but he found blackness enveloping him. They were going to go help their friends, he knew he needed his rest.

*****

Victor held onto the reins of his young charger as the party raced northeast. The last five days had been torture on his senses. Ever since he had spoken to Shawnrik he slept fitfully. He had tolerated the first two days, in which they had needed to get back to the Protectorate camp. He wasn't so happy about the day they spent in camp resting, and readying supplies, and equipment however.

They had finally left that next morning, taking the lines of power back to his home, back to Safeharbor. As they approached the platform to enter the lines, Victor had felt a brief thrill of anticipation at being able to travel the lines again. Even that didn't last long however. It felt good to be home, but he couldn't wait to leave again.

To his bitter disappointment however, their journey north had not continued that day. It seemed that it would take some time to find enough of the hybrid mounts that possessed enough intelligence to travel the lines. According to Zander and the Grey Elf wizard Za'kereth only creatures with enough intelligence and draconic blood could travel the lines safely. The fact that they needed to find mounts for two full squads, plus three extra hadn't made things any easier. It had taken Nim that entire day to find the twenty three horses needed.

Victor had been glad that McDowell's squad, and the squad Zander had taken command of had 'volunteered' to go with them. Soon it became apparent however that neither squad could be turned from the endeavor. Having so many well trained soldiers was comforting, but the wait it had spawned had not been. To make matters worse, Bartholomew reported that Lia had left Nim's manor a week before, and Jenn could not find out where she had gone.

Victor spent most of that day sharpening his daggers, and pacing. He had found two dagger belts in the room where Nim had put all of his cache of equipment they had procured from the assassins guild. Each belt had ten sheaths that held throwing daggers. It had taken some modification, but Bartholomew had finally gotten them so that they would fit Victor efficiently. The next thing he had found that was of interest was a belt buckle that hid four metal stars. When he had asked Bartholomew about them, the man had been very impressed with their quality. He had then continued into a dissertation on how they were used properly. It seemed that it was much the same as throwing a knife, with a few modifications on the flick. His ensemble had been completed by the two forearm sheathes, two boot sheathes, and the sheath for the back of his neck. At his side he wore the dagger that Shaylyn had given him the morning before she had disappeared.

When the evening was wearing to an end, Victor had gone to practice while their was still good light. Going back to the yard where Nim, Ashur, Shawnrik, and himself had spent so many hours, since the beginning of the year, had made him feel a bit nostalgic. The yard had been set aside for training, and as he rounded the corner he had realized it was being used for that purpose as the familiar ring of metal on metal met his ears.

The fact that most of the soldiers were in the training yard made him feel better about his need to practice, but at the thought of practicing in front of all of these professional soldiers made him flush with embarrassment. Practicality had won over his discomfiture however. He needed the practice, and he had needed to get used to his new array of daggers. No matter what the squads would think of him. The first person Victor had really noticed was Elandria shooting at an archery target next to a human male he recognized from Zander's squad. He passed behind the two, and continued onward towards the far end of the yard, as far away as he could get from everyone else. This was the part of the yard he normally used anyway, as it possessed target dummies roughly people shaped specifically for the purpose of throwing practice.

Testing his newfound throwing daggers, he found that they were as well balanced as the other daggers he had been using for the last year. Doing as Ol' man Walkins and then Nim had taught him, he had focused on his target, aware of his immediate surrounding, but keeping his target always in sight. As Nim had shown him to, he imagined all of the different scenarios he could face, and worked on countering each.

So focused had he been on his practice, he didn't notice the crowd he had gathered until he had thrown the last of the twenty daggers for the third time, from the new belts which were arrayed across his chest. It took a murmur of approval, and a few soft whistles of appreciation for him to notice, and when he turned his head, both squads were standing about twenty yards away, just out of the area he had been aware of.