Wielder's Rising (25 page)

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Authors: T.B. Christensen

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Wielder's Rising
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He sensed a presence nearing the mouth of the cave.  Turning away from the splendid view, he looked to the entrance of the cave once again.  Soon he could see the lightly glowing yellow eyes of Shaman Azulk.  The elderly galdak stepped out of the cave’s shadow and approached him.  His dark red skin was wrinkled and splotched, and his hunched form made him seem shorter than he really was.  The shaman bowed deeply to Kadrak with the stones and skulls that dangled from his neck almost touching the ground.

“You wished to speak with me?” he said in a raspy voice as he rose from his bow.

“That is why I am here,” Kadrak replied. “Tomorrow I will lead my army to Kalia.  The Kalian Army is already in place at the western mouth of the Pass of Banshi and another contingent of troops will arrive there soon.  The Kalian Army is rumored to be the most disciplined of any country’s army.  I expect that they will put up a decent fight.”

He paused before continuing.  He still debated whether it was the right time to reveal his army of galdaks, but he also wanted to be certain that the clash with the Kalian Army would end in a resounding victory for him.  He didn’t want to leave anything up to chance.  He had made his decision already and would stick with it.

“I have come to make sure that your warriors are ready,” he stated.  “I believe I might have need of them soon.”

“We have been ready for many years,” Shaman Azulk whispered back in almost a hiss.  “If I were to call them forth now, they would be ready to fight.”

“Good,” Kadrak replied with a smile.  “I require that one thousand of your warriors be hidden in the mountains at the western end of the Pass of Banshi.  They are to remain there, hidden, until I call for them.”

“As you command,” the galdak said.  “They can easily be in place before your human army arrives.  Are you certain that you only want a thousand?”

“Yes,” he said.  “Hopefully they will not be needed.”  He noticed a tightening around the eyes of the shaman.  “The time will come for your people, Shaman.  However, the time may not be here yet.  We shall see.”

“What signal should my warriors be waiting for?” the elderly galdak asked slowly.

“I will shoot three fireballs, straight up into the air.  I will then create a lightning strike.  Wherever the bolt strikes, that is where I want your warriors to attack.  Do you understand my instructions?”

“I understand them perfectly,” Shaman Azulk replied curtly.  “My warriors will be in place and waiting for your signal.  Should you call them, you will not be disappointed with their skill in war.”

“Good,” Kadrak stated.  Having given his instructions, he was anxious to return to camp and get some sleep.  “If your warriors prove useful, perhaps the time for the galdaks to avenge their wrongs will be at hand.”

 

* * * * *

 

Shaman Azulk watched as the arrogant wielder strode away from him and began to descend the mountain.  He clenched his fists tightly and tried to remain as calm as he could.  His people had waited centuries to avenge themselves of the wrongs that had occurred at the hands of the humans.  He would be patient.  He would wait just a little longer.  The time of the galdaks was swiftly approaching.

 

* * * * *

 

Kadrak swiftly descended to the lowlands and mounted his waiting horse.  Every time he turned his back on the shaman, he wondered if the galdak would try and attack him.  He supposed that Shaman Azulk tried to hide his distaste for him, but the elderly galdak didn’t do a good job at it.  It was easy to see that the shaman had no love for him whatsoever.  He wondered once again how long he should allow the old galdak to live.  The shaman was dangerous but smart enough to realize that Kadrak was his superior.

He grinned as his horse trotted back towards the army’s encampment.  The galdaks had already supplied him with a small fortune and now would guarantee him a victory against the Kalian Army if he needed them.  As long as he could control them, they would continue to be a valuable asset.  It would be interesting to see how well they would obey his orders.  If the galdak warriors proved that they could follow his instructions in the coming battle, he would have many other tasks for them to fulfill.

As he rode closer to the encampment, his mind turned from thoughts of the galdaks to thoughts of his human army.  Combining the rogue army with the Balthan Army had worked better than he had expected it to.  Gilrod had done an excellent job in appointing experienced leaders within the ranks.  There were still more skirmishes and fights between the troops than he would have liked, but overall he was pleased with the integration.

The march from Rankdra to Beking had been much better organized than the previous march in the opposite direction.  He hoped that things would continue to run smoothly.  The army had a long way to march before they would reach their ultimate destination of Calyn.

Kadrak slowed his horse as he approached the encampment.  He didn’t want to have to kill any of his troops if he startled them and they accidently attacked him.  As he entered the outskirts of the camp, his soldiers began to recognize him and bowed as he passed.  Gilrod had suggested that he not go anywhere without an honor guard, but he had no use for one.

Everyone knew who he was.  He didn’t need pageantry to announce himself, and he didn’t need any protection besides his own mastery of the ambience.  When his people saw a tall, striking man with blond flowing hair, they knew who they were looking at.  He would also often use the ambience to create a slight glow around himself at night.  His soldiers could then easily see the power he possessed emanating from him.  It affectively inspired awe amongst all who saw him. 

He proceeded through the camp towards his tent as his soldiers continued to bow and show proper respect at his passing.  As a child he had been small and skinny.  Many of those in his village at the southern reaches of Balthus had called him runt.  No one would even consider calling him that now.  When he had finally hit his growth spurt, long after the other boys his age, he had grown to be taller than most.  He had worked hard on his parents’ pitiful farm and had soon grown strong as well.

He then had paid every last one of the boys back for their teasing, taunting, and bullying of him.  He smiled at the memory.  Back then he had used the only two weapons he had, his fists.  The boys of his village had steered clear of him after the beatings they had received.  The following summer he had begun to realize that something was different about him.  Soon he had begun to experiment with the power that lay inside of him.

His parents hadn’t been pleased when he had showed them the tricks he could do.  They were a superstitious lot and had banned him from using any of his magic.  His father soon thereafter had caught him practicing making fire.  He still remembered the look of anger on his father’s face as he had thrown him out of the house and assured him that he would never be welcomed back.

Kadrak had made sure that no one would be welcomed back.  Once his parents had left for the market the next day, he had snuck back into the house, gathered the supplies he would need for a journey, and set the place on fire.  He had not looked back as he headed north with his childhood home burning to the ground behind him.

He wasn’t sure what his parents had done after returning home to find their house destroyed.  He had never worried or felt bad about it.  They had gotten what they deserved.  He had loved them and worked hard for them his entire childhood.  How had he been repaid?  He had been cast out.

He wouldn’t repeat the same type of injustice against his followers that his parents had committed against him.  Those who opposed him would be dealt with harshly, but those who respected and followed him would prosper under his rule.  He would have plenty of power to share with those who were loyal to him.  He would reward them generously.

Kadrak arrived at his large tent and brushed past the two guards standing at either side of the entrance.  He had considered staying at the small palace in Beking for the night but had decided against it.  When leading an army, his place was with the army, in the midst of his troops.  He wanted his soldiers to know that he would be fighting with them.

He prepared for sleep and lay down on his soft bed.  Although he would be sleeping in the midst of his troops, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the ground like them.  He needed to sleep well if he wanted to wield the ambience with as much strength as possible.  He would go without certain things on the campaign into Kalia, but he felt no need to deprive himself of all luxuries.  He had a nice bed, a sturdy desk, a skilled chef, and a special stock of his favorite foods.

A master wielder such as himself should be able to enjoy life no matter where he was.  The long days of riding would be tempered by the small luxuries that he allowed himself.  He closed his eyes and relaxed.

It would take nine days to reach the eastern edge of the Pass of Banshi.  They would then march through the high pass in the mountains for five days until they reached the other end.  There was currently still some snow in the pass, but he hoped it would all be melted by the time the army reached it.  In fourteen days time, the Kalian Army would face the wrath of the Master Wielder Kadrak.

 

 

 

Part Three: Rising

 

 

 

21

 

 

Traven glanced out over the sea in the early morning light.  The eastern coast of Faldor’s Watch appeared much the same as the southern tip.  However, the cliffs that rose up behind them here were much shorter than the ones further south and the beach was wider.  Glancing south, he could make out several large rocks jutting up out of the water.  Apparently, farther south in the gulf the rocks were extremely numerous.  They made it all but impossible for a large ship to safely travel north.  He supposed that was the reason the map had led them to the southern tip of Faldor’s Watch and not further up its eastern coast.

The water of the gulf appeared fairly calm, but Traven was nervous about the prospect of crossing it in such a small boat.  He glanced back at the guardians who were loading up their supplies and making the boat ready to set sail.  They had assured him that it was a sturdy ship and not to worry, but the size of it still left him concerned.  It looked as though it would barely be able to fit the four of them and their mounts.

It was long and narrow with a single sail.  There were also oars for rowing.  Jorb had said that if there wasn’t much wind, they would still be able to reach land by nightfall if they all rowed hard.  He hoped that Jorb was right.  He didn’t want to be out in the open water on the small boat any longer than he had to.

They had set out midmorning the previous day from the keep.  It had taken all day and half of the night for them to reach the coast and the small cave where the keep’s two boats were sheltered.  The afternoon had been incredibly hot and draining, but luckily they had only had to endure the heat for one day.  Traven was glad to be leaving the desert behind him and returning to a milder climate.

“Everything is ready.” Darian said.  “We should push off now if we want to reach the other side before dark.”

Traven hurried over to the ship and helped the three guardians as they struggled to push the ship, now laden with four horses, off the sand and deeper into the water.  After a few heaves, the ship broke loose and slipped fully into the water.  All four quickly pulled themselves up and into the ship.  Traven scooted to the center of the ship as Darian took his place at the rudder.

Traven glanced back at the elf.  He was still in shock of what had happened the previous day.  He never would have imagined that one day he would have an elf devoted to him.  He still hadn’t really had a chance to figure out their relationship.  The human guardians treated him like a friend.  However, Darian treated him differently.  Throughout the previous afternoon, he was sure the elf had shot him multiple menacing glances.  Then when they had stopped upon reaching the coast, the elf had politely offered to take care of Pennon.

At times he was sure that the elf was upset with him no matter what he did, and at other times the elf seemed to truly be devoted to him.  He supposed that it had to do with Darian’s own conflicts between his pride and choosing to serve a wielder.  He hoped the elf would soon be able to reconcile his inner conflicts.  Traven couldn’t figure out how to act towards the elf until Darian figured things out for himself.

Traven looked at the coast and watched as it got further and further away.  He tried not to think about all of the water underneath him.  Luckily the sky was clear, the waves were small, and there was a light breeze.  He hoped that the conditions would remain the same until they reached the opposite coast.  He would handle the trip a lot better without large waves.

The boat continued onward at a fair speed as the sun broke the horizon.  Traven had to shield his eyes against the glare of the rising sun off the water directly in front of them.  Both Ethan and Jorb were silhouetted at the front of the boat.  He got up and carefully made his way towards them.  Both were looking forward with excited expressions.

“This is great,” Jorb said excitedly.  “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been on the water?”

“I would say six years,” Ethan responded.  “The same amount of time as all of us human guardians.”

“It was a rhetorical question,” Jorb said rolling his eyes.  “Traven, did you know that before I came to the keep I fished almost every day?  My family and many of the people in my village have been fishers forever.  I didn’t realize how much I missed the sea until we got this boat out in the water.  I guess six years in the middle of the desert makes you forget.”

“It’s true,” Ethan responded.  “You get so used to the routine at the keep that you kind of forget about everything else.  I haven’t thought about a smithy for years.  I guess that’s a good thing.  It would be horrible to be longing for home every day for twenty years.”

Traven hadn’t ever thought much about what the guardians had been before they entered service at Faldor’s Keep.  He supposed they all had varied backgrounds.  He glanced back at Darian and wondered what the elf had done before coming to the keep.  He would have to ask him about it sometime.

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