Magician (Riftware Sage Book 1)

Abruptly he was behind a rider wearing the Duke’s colors and then passing the man as Pug’s horse proved fresher for carrying a lighter rider. The terrain became more hilly, and Pug wondered if they were entering the foothills of the Grey Towers.

 

A horse’s scream caused Pug to glance behind. He saw the soldier he had passed thrown as his mount collapsed, foaming blood spurting from the animal’s nose. Pug and another rider halted, and the soldier turned back, riding over to where the first man stood. He extended his hand to offer the fallen man a double ride. The fallen soldier just shook his head, as he struck the standing horse on the rump, sending it ahead again. Pug knew the second man’s horse could barely carry one rider, never two. The fallen rider pulled his sword and put down the injured horse, then turned to wait for the pursuing Dark Brothers. Pug found his eyes tearing as he contemplated the man’s courage. The other soldier shouted something over his shoulder that was lost to the boy, then suddenly he was riding by. He shouted, “Move, Squire!”

 

Pug put heels to the sides of his horse, and the animal picked up a staggering trot.

 

The fleeing column continued on its stumbling, exhausted flight, Pug moving up through the company of riders to a place near the Duke. After a few minutes Lord Borric signaled for them to slow. They entered another clearing. Borric surveyed his company. A look of helpless rage crossed his face, to be replaced by surprise. He held his hand aloft, and the riders stopped their milling about. Shouts sounded in the forest, but from some distance away.

 

Arutha, eyes wide with wonder, said, “Have we lost them?”

 

Slowly the Duke nodded, his attention focused on the distant shouts. “For the moment. When we broke through the archers, we must have slipped behind their pursuit. They’ll discover that fact shortly and double back. We have ten, fifteen minutes at best.” He looked over his ragged company. “If only we could find a place to hide.”

 

Kulgan moved his staggering horse alongside the Duke “My lord, I might have a solution, though it is risky and might prove fatal.”

 

Borric said, “No more fatal than waiting for them to come for us. What is your plan?”

 

“I have an amulet, which can control weather I had planned to save it against possible storms at sea, for its use is limited. I may be able to mask our whereabouts with it. Let every man gather his horse at the far end of the clearing, near that outcropping of rock. Have them silence the animals.”

 

Borric ordered it done, and the animals were moved to the opposite end of the clearing. Reassuring hands gentled exhausted and excited horses, quieting the mounts after their long flight.

 

They had gathered at the highest end of a narrow clearing, their backs to an outcropping of granite that rose overhead like a grey fist. On three sides the ground sloped away gently. Kulgan began to walk along the perimeter of the compact company.

 

He chanted in a low voice, waving the amulet in an intricate pattern Slowly the grey afternoon light faded, and a mist began to gather around him. At first only light wisps appeared nearby, then other, more substantial patches of moisture formed, becoming light fog.

 

Soon the air between the Duke’s company and the tree line grew hazy. Kulgan moved more quickly and the fog deepened, filling the clearing with whiteness, moving outward from the magician into the trees on all sides. Within a few minutes it was impossible to see beyond a few yards.

 

On and on paced Kulgan, sending thicker blankets of haze to obscure the already grey light in the trees. The clearing slowly became darker as the gloomy fog deepened with every incantation made by the magician.

 

Then Kulgan stopped and turned to the Duke, whispering, “All must remain quiet. Should the dark elves wander blindly into the fog, the sloping terrain will, I hope, guide them past on one side or the other as they come around the rocks. But let no man move. Any sound will defeat us.”

 

Each man nodded, understanding the danger coming fast. They would stand in the center of this deep fog in the hope the Dark Brothers would walk past, putting the Duke and his men once more behind them. It was an all-or-nothing gambit, for should they win free, there was a good chance they would be far removed from this spot when the Brotherhood once more backtracked.

 

Pug looked at Tomas and whispered, “It’s a good thing it’s rocky here, else we’d leave some pretty tracks.”

 

Tomas nodded, too frightened to speak. A nearby guard motioned for Pug to be silent, and the young Squire nodded.