The Forest of Allund Part 1(Wilbur Arron) THE FOREST OF ALLUND
By
WILBUR ARRON

Book 1: The Forest of Allund Series

 
The Forest of Allund is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Although the author and publisher have made every effort to ensure that the information in this book was correct at publication time, the author and publisher do not assume and hereby disclaim any liability to any party for any loss, damage, or disruption caused by errors or omissions, whether such errors or omissions result from negligence, accident, or any other cause.
Copyright © 2020 by Wilbur Arron. All rights reserved.
Fifth Edition
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author at the email address wilburarron@outlook.com or at his website, www.wilburarron.com.
 
Dedication and Acknowledgments
I wish to thank the following people for their assistance in producing this work:
The crew at Booknook.biz, who formatted this and the previous versions and provided invaluable assistance in getting this book into a presentable format.
Hayao Miyazaki, who provided the inspiration for this book.
Cover artist Keith Draws at www.keithdraws.wordpress.com, who draws covers like no other.

My humble thanks.
 
Author’s Note to His Readers
This novel is set in a world similar to Hellenistic Greece, the period from the death of Alexander the Great to the Roman conquest (about 325 BC to 70 BC). The characters, settings, religion, morality, and politics in this text reflect this period. As such, the characters do not have our contemporary ways of thinking and acting. To add flavor to the story, I am also including certain Greek words as part of the text. These words are marked by an asterisk (*) the first time they are used. I’ve added a full glossary in the back of the book as well.
If you liked this book, I would like to hear from you. You can leave your comments on my web page. If you have the time, I would like to see your review of this book. Whether your review is good, bad, or indifferent, it is only though informed criticism that we improve.
 
The Code of the Brotherhood of Mages (Mage Code)
1 A mage is always truthful, even if it will embarrass or humiliate him.
2 A mage will not commit murder or steal from others using his power.
3 A mage is honest in his words and deeds.
4 A mage will be respectful of the gods.
5 A mage will always seek fairness and justice, never personal gain or revenge.
6 A mage will use his power to harm only when necessary to protect himself or the innocent.
7 A mage will never drink to excess or pursue pleasure to excess.
8 A mage will always show the highest commitment to live a moral life.
9 A mage will never act from anger, greed, or envy.
10 A mage will give a fair day’s work for his wage.
11 A mage will not take slight or insult at the actions or the words of others, nor cause harm to those who do these things to him.
12 A mage will give a fair and honest judgment in instances where he is called upon to act as magistrate juror, or to judge a dispute.
13 A mage will never accept bribes or other illegal payments for any action he performs.
14 A mage will not seek personal fortune. Should he gather riches, he will dispose of them for the public good and not for personal gain.
15 A mage will not seek fame. If fame is given to him for his actions, he will accept it and behave with humility.
16 A mage will respect local magistrates and laws and only offer counsel when requested, except when there is a danger to the polis or people.
17 A mage will never employ others to perform tasks forbidden by this Code.
© 2018, 2019, 2020
 
CHAPTER ONE: PRODIGAL

I was home.
For the last ten days, I had either walked or ridden in farmers’ carts to reach here. I had arrived at the port city of Aegae after my sea journey from Lantis*. In the distance, the barren, desolate peaks of the Central Mountains rose like a huge stone wall. Snow was still on the peaks on this early spring day. I had not seen them since leaving over ten years before. My studies had taken me far away from here, but now I finally returned to the main gate of Korpolis*.
As ever, there were four guards at the gate dressed in armor and carrying short swords, hoplons*, and long spears. As I approached, I saw something was wrong. Black mourning cloth covered the shafts of the spears. The people going in and out of the main gate looked subdued; some were in tears and others tore at their hair and clothes. The people were walking slowly, and as I got closer, I saw all were dressed in dark mourning clothes.
I stepped behind one of the smaller shops outside the gate and opened up my backpack. Quickly I took off my street clothes, slipped on my new mage robe of pure brown, and walked up to the guard at the gate. He looked at me angrily, for I was not dressed in mourning.
“Forgive me,” I said humbly. “I come from this polis* and have just arrived back after being away for ten years. Why is everyone in mourning?”
The guard looked at me strangely and said in a hushed tone, “We are in mourning for our late oligarch* Clytomedes. He died twelve days ago. Today is the tenth day of his funeral games.”
“The old man is dead?” I said in surprise. “I remember as a boy playing with his son Cleon in the gymnasium. He would come over often and exercise with us. He would show us how to throw the javelin. I am so sorry. I must get a mourning cloth. It is not proper for a mage to be dressed like this. Is there someplace nearby where I can purchase one?”
The guard stared at me through his bronze helmet. “Ten years away,” he repeated. “Have you been in exile?”
“No, no,” I said. “I attended the Mage Academy on Lantis* and graduated in the autumn. I have just returned—”
“Alexio Sopholus,” he blurted out. I was surprised anyone remembered me after this time. “You have come back,” he said and looked me over. “You are much healthier looking than when Malcor took you away.” He took off his metal helmet and I saw into a face as young as mine but very hard-looking. He seemed familiar, but I could not place him.
“It is I, Iolaos; I exercised with you and our new oligarch Cleon in the gymnasium years ago.”
The change in him stunned me! We had called him The Bull in the gym, but now he actually looked like a bull. He was a podi* taller than I was and twice as wide. We had been friends until my sickness. Then we had grown distant, as I had with most people in the polis. I dropped my travel bags and grabbed him by both shoulders. “I do not believe it,” I told him, my voice trembling.
“Come, we need to get you properly dressed before someone takes offense,” he told me. He turned to face the other three guards on duty and barked out an order. “Watch the gate while I find this man a proper mourning cloth.”
All three guards presented their spears at attention. I picked up my bags and followed Iolaos.
We went through the ten-podia-thick polis walls and then into the main street, rushing through town. Some people looked strangely at me — a mage is a rare sight in this town. Others looked angry with me for not being properly dressed. We rushed to the town center and into the market square. Iolaos made his way through the crowd to a clothing stall. When I saw who was there, my heart skipped a beat. The old woman at the stall was Mother Areaus herself. She had been old when I left, but now she looked as ancient as the Central Mountains.
“Mother Areaus,” Iolaos called out. “Look who has come back.”
The old woman stared at me with black eyes, then broke into a broad smile. “Alexio!” she cried out and, like Iolaos, hugged me. I was afraid to squeeze her. I was scared I might hurt her. Now my eyes started to water as dozens of people in the market turned toward us.
“Mother Areaus, Alex has just arrived and did not know of Clytomedes’s death. Do you have a mourning cloth for him?”
“Of course,” she said. She turned and took a wrap-around black cloth from a box. I reached into my pocket and gave her two obols*.
“That is far too much,” she said. “You may have it for free.”
“No,” I said and refused the return of the coins. “I well remember after my parents died and no one in town wanted anything to do with me except Malcor. It was you who gave me scrap cloth to make clothing. Consider this a small part of my thanks to you for that favor. Besides, while I was waiting for spring to sail home, I worked in an armory, making mage-hardened swords and spear tips. They paid me well for my efforts. Keep the money.”
With that, I turned quickly and walked away before she could argue.
Iolaos followed closely. “That was good of you,” he said.
“It is only money,” I said and looked across the market square at the palace. The new oligarch would be there. I turned to my old friend. “Iolaos, do you think Oligarch Cleon would be offended if I presented myself at the palace to give my condolences to him?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You and he were friends even after your illness. I am sure he would be happy to see you.”
We walked across the square. I stopped at the front gate, before half a dozen heavily armed guards, and bowed in respect. “I am Mage Alexio Sopholus of this polis. I have come to offer my condolences to Oligarch Cleon on the death of his father.”
“Yes, Mage Sopholus,” one of the guards said respectfully. He turned and walked quickly into the outer courtyard of the palace.
I remained standing still. A few moments passed, and I heard a loud voice call out from inside the depths of the palace.
“Where is he?” the voice cried. I looked past the guards and saw two people hurrying toward me. One was a young man dressed in the pure white robes of an oligarch and wearing a golden olive-wreath diadem on his head.
The other was a young woman walking next to him. I thought it was his wife until I noticed the half-circle scar over her left eye. I remembered that scar. The oligarch’s young daughter Melina had fallen into the river while we were playing as children, and she had cut her forehead on a rock. It had almost killed her. I could not believe that scrawny little girl had become a beautiful woman who could rival Helen herself. My mouth dropped open, but I closed it quickly. The man rushed forward, and there was no mistaking his blue eyes, strong chin, and heavy muscles. He had become a man while I was away. As he approached, I put my right hand over my heart and bowed to them.
“Oligarch Cleon, allow me to offer my condolences on the death of your father. I well remember his time with us when we were boys.” I looked up. “I must also confess I do not believe the little girl I knew before has become this beautiful woman.”
Cleon came up and stood me up straight. “The gods are strange,” he exclaimed, “but it is true! You have come back a mage.”
“And a man,” Melina said with a smile.
I had begun to bow again when Cleon and his sister embraced me as Iolaos had earlier. I was ready to thank them when I heard a scream come from behind me. Turning swiftly, I saw a young man running away from Mother Areaus’s clothing stall and into the square.
“Stop him!” someone shouted. “He stole the old woman’s money and hit her in the head.”
Despite my training to control my emotions, that made me angry. The young man was running across the square faster than the guards could follow. But he was not fast enough to escape me.
I closed my eyes and walked forward, saying the invocation and concentrating on the market around me. Soon the town disappeared and all about me were points of light representing the other realms of the universe. I reached in and tapped some of the power in these realms, letting it course through my body, building in intensity. It took only an instant to gather the power I needed. I opened my eyes and extended my arm toward the fleeing figure. “Aeras*,” I called out.
Immediately a ball of almost invisible wind flew from my outstretched hand across the square, hitting the fleeing thief. It fell on him as if he had just walked into one of Poseidon’s storms. His feet blew out from under him and he rose into the air. I pulled my hand back and he crashed to the paving stones like a felled duck. He hit the pavement and lay still for a moment. I approached him with my arm still extended. He saw me coming, slowly rose to his feet, and pulled a fighting knife from his belt.
I gestured again and said “Pyra*.” A ball of blue flame formed in my right hand. “Put that knife down,” my voice bellowed through the square, “or I will turn you into a pile of dust!”
I was about to release the blue ball when the man threw away his knife. By then I could hear rapid footsteps. The first to approach was Iolaos, who knocked the man senseless with one blow.
Another man came up behind him, one I had seen standing near Mother Areaus when I bought the sash. He looked at me. “He took her coins and then hit her in the head when she tried to call out. She is lying unconscious on the ground. I fear he may have killed her.”
“Take me to her,” I told him. I followed closely behind him, forgetting who was next to me. I rushed through the crowd that parted before me like waves part under the bow of a stout ship. I reached the stall I had been to only a moment before and saw the old woman lying motionless on the ground, bleeding from her forehead.
“Call for a physician,” I ordered.
I bent over to put my hand on her forehead and concentrated my power carefully. Life Magik allows the mage to see into another’s body. The training allows one to feel the way the body functions to see what is wrong. In Mother Areaus’s case, the heart was not beating strongly; the organs in the body were failing. She was starting to slip away.
“Vios*,” I called out and concentrated harder. Unlike Nature Magik or Metal Magik, Life Magik requires subtle application. One cannot apply just any source of energy to an injured person. The energy I send into a body to heal must be milder, more diffused, for the body to use it. Otherwise, I could overpower the body, causing it to fail rather than helping it regain its vital functions. I was as gentle as possible and slowly let the energy flow into her, first strengthening her heart and then gradually pushing back the damage from her injury. It was slow, careful work, but sometime later, I do not know how long, I felt someone tug at my robe.
“Mage Alexio, it is I, Phillipos of Cos. She is safe now.”
I opened my eyes to see an elderly man I had also known as a boy – our senior town physician, who had trained at the School of Asclepius at Cos. He was the one who had saved me when the plague had hit. I nodded and sat down on a nearby chair. Life Magik is always more personal and takes the most out of a mage. I watched Phillipos examine the old woman and then look up with satisfaction.
“Take your mother to her bed and see she does not get up from it for two days. Feed her nothing but soup and water,” Phillipos ordered the man I had followed there. “And see that she drinks no wine. She will be fine otherwise. In fact, she may outlive us all yet.”
I turned and saw the young thief I had knocked down. He was on his knees, held down by the strength of Iolaos. Again, I felt anger. “You!” I pointed at him. “Pray to whatever gods you believe in that this woman recovers. Otherwise, you will learn there are many worse things in this world than the oligarch’s dungeons or the executioner’s iron collars.”
I thought the thief would sink through the paving stones in fear. Many of the townspeople near him made the sign to ward off evil. I tried to get up and suddenly felt dizzy; I staggered for a moment, but a pair of strong hands grabbed me and held me upright. I turned and saw they belonged to the oligarch.
“Rest, Alex,” he said in a comforting voice.
I suddenly remembered I had other things to do. “I am sorry, but I have to find rooms for the night.”
“No,” Melina said and turned to face her brother, who nodded his approval.
“No, my friend,” the oligarch said with a gleam in his eyes. “You will stay with us in the palace, and tonight join us at the second table of the banquet to honor the winners of today’s games.”
“Thank you” was all I could say, still feeling out of breath.
They led me back to the palace and as we walked in, Melina summoned two servants. “Take Mage Sopholus to a vacant guest room. Bring his bags and clean his clothes. Draw him a hot bath. He will join us at the banquet tonight.”
“Thank you again,” I said to my two hosts before the servants led me away. After my hot bath, a nap brought me back to my normal self.
The next two days were a whirl of contests and feasts. I served as a judge of the poetry contest although I am as poetic as a dormouse, so I simply chose the one I thought sounded best. As evening arrived on the twelfth day, the games ended. Soon afterward, the old oligarch’s remains were taken from his room and brought to the square. A great wooden pyre was constructed, and the old man’s body put on top of it. Cleon gave the funeral oration in a loud, steady voice, reading out the honors granted to his father, including those he had garnered in battle and those voted to him by the Polis Assembly. He read a list of the many gifts his father had made to the temples and to the polis, including his title of euergetes*, and pronounced his father to have been a megalopsychus*. Finally, he fulfilled his final duty as Clytomedes’s son. Cleon lit the fire, and within moments, a huge conflagration of flame consumed the body. Melina poured a libation for her dead father. By morning, only the ashes remained. Mourners gathered up the ashes and placed them in a sealed jar. They would rest in the oligarchs’ mausoleum, in the necropolis outside the polis walls. That ended the official mourning period.
The next morning, polis business started up again. Cleon asked me to join him at an informal breakfast with Melina and some of the polis guards. We ate a light meal of bread, honey, grapes, olives, and cheese, washed down with well-watered wine.
“So, what will you do now?” Cleon asked.
That was easy to answer. “I promised Malcor when I left that I would take his place as caretaker of the Forest of Allund*. I vowed to watch his animal friends and look over the western approaches to the polis. Tomorrow I will go there.”
Iolaos spoke up from his dining couch. “Travelers have told me they have seen smoke coming from the site of Malcor’s hut. Someone may have taken it over.”
I turned to face Cleon. “When Malcor’s testament was read after his death, did it not say I inherited his property?”
“It most certainly did,” Cleon said with authority. “I read that testament myself five years ago. That property and all of Malcor’s things rightfully belong to you. Those were his wishes.”
“If they don’t move, come see me,” Iolaos said. “I will get three of my guardsmen together. They will leave one way or another.”
“Thank you, my friend, but one of the first things a mage must learn is to control his temper. The law says I must ask politely first, then seek justice in the court if they will not go. Only if they refuse will I take action to remove them.” I looked at Cleon. “Also, by law I must show you this,” I said to the oligarch. “I did not want to do so while we were in mourning for your father.”
I got up and presented to Cleon a fine parchment filled with gold and silver threads and written in the most expensive inks. It was my diploma from the Mage Academy, confirming my right to practice magik and my rank as mage. Cleon took it and looked it over. He stopped, his eyes bulged, and he looked up at me in awe.
“You have a first-rank diploma in all three schools?” he gasped. The others in the room were also startled and stared at me.
It is a rare accomplishment. Only one other graduate during my time at the academy had a first rank in all three schools. Most only hold a first rank in one school and hold no rank or a third rank in the other schools.
I humbly bowed my head. “Yes, Oligarch,” I said in a low voice. “I wish to let you know that I am willing to offer those skills in service of the polis if needed.”
Melina stared at me. “Why are you not teaching at the academy, or working for the ethnarch*, or even working in the temple of Megas* Zeus?”
“That is not what I wanted, my lady,” I said. “I learned at the academy, but I was not happy there. I always felt more comfortable here in Korpolis. I have always wanted to return.” I did not mention that in Lantia, many of the local students and instructors looked at me as little more than a semi-barbarian from the hinterland. It galled them to death that I did so well.
“I understand,” Cleon proclaimed. “I will present your certification to the Polis Assembly when it meets.” Cleon looked at the certificate again. “Ye gods, even the archon* does not have such a mage working for him.”
Melina beamed at me. “Alexio, the polis is very proud of you. Even without the honors you have, you were always a good boy when we were children. The way you helped with Mother Areaus two days ago was magnificent. Phillipos told me himself he had never seen such skill in using the magik on an old person. It must be wonderful to have the power of the gods.”
That was what I was afraid of. People always think we are more powerful than we really are. “No, I do not,” I said, rising. “I do not have the power of the gods. Mages can borrow a little of the power in the realms, but I cannot move mountains, cause quakes, divert rivers, or fly through the air. All of that is far beyond any of us. At best, I can help. Sometimes I can cure some sicknesses, or stop some evil from coming, but I am not a god. I would be guilty of extreme hubris if I said I was. I am merely a small man who has learned a few things that I am good at. I cannot rule a polis. I am useless with a sword, hoplon, and spear, as many of you know. I am worthless as a farmer, and I cannot craft fine art or jewelry. All of us have talents we use to make this world a fit place to live in. I have my skills, and the rest of you have yours. We all use the gifts the gods give us.”
With that, I sat down. Finally, Cleon stood up. “Yes,” he said. “I see the smart little boy I played with has become not only a mage, but a wise man. Will you leave us soon?”
“Tomorrow,” I told him. “At dawn, I will go out to visit my parents’ stele* in the necropolis. I will then leave for the forest.”
“Then until tomorrow, you are welcome to stay here,” Cleon told me.
I spent the day mostly by myself, wandering the streets that I had run through as a boy. Even now, many of the boys and girls still played those same games in the same streets. At least now the children and their parents did not turn away from me, as they had after my illness. The adults did look at me suspiciously as I walked down the narrow streets. Whether it was because I was a mage or because they thought I was a foreigner, it did not matter. I looked like an outsider. I noticed the shops were open; business looked prosperous. The people, though still mourning the old oligarch’s passing, looked happy. Nothing had changed here in the ten years I had been away.
That night, I looked out my window at some of the 342 red lights that shine in the night sky. All things in the universe were in their proper place, and for the first time in a long while, I felt content.
Crack! I heard. I turned and saw a column on the far wall move. I stood up and threw on my robe, thinking it might be an assassin. With a short fighting knife in hand, I started charging my body to repel the intruder. Rather than a masked figure, the beautiful figure of a woman dressed in a sheer white sleeping gown entered from behind the pillar.
“Melina,” I called in a whisper. “What are you doing here? Your brother would strangle us both if he found us.”
“Since he knows I am here, I doubt that.” She smiled. “Besides, my brother is now with two of the new serving girls.” Her smile cut through the darkness like a lighthouse beacon.
“I don’t understand. You are a maiden – what are you doing here?” I repeated.
“No,” she said, walking around my bed. Her ample body was plainly visible through the thin gown, even in the faint light from the palace. She approached and put her arms around me. More by reflex, I held her, too. She was soft to my touch.
“While you were gone, I married the second son of one of the tetrarchs*. It was a political marriage arranged by my father. He was distant, but he was nice to me. He loved hunting, so in the first winter of our marriage, he led an eight-man hunting party into the mountains for wild deer and boar. There was an avalanche. We never found their bodies until spring.”
With that, she dropped the flimsy gown and sat down on my bed. I moved away from her, yet she sat down next to me. I felt exceedingly uncomfortable with her being there naked. It wasn’t the fact that she was naked. I knew the human body well, both male and female. At the Mage Academy, there had been women who provided sex to the mostly male students for a small fee. While visiting these women was not officially approved, the master mages understood that men needed these services from time to time. I had used the service as needed, but with my build and looks, I had always been awkward around women. Many of my better-looking classmates had enjoyed friendships with women, but no woman had ever approached me or shown any romantic interest in me.
I was more surprised and shocked that she was there, considering the differences in our class. Melina was of royal birth. My parents were teachers and, like me, commoners. I felt very uneasy in the pit of my stomach at her presence. I moved farther along the edge of the bed to put distance between us. I felt this was wrong. What would a noblewoman see in me?
She slid over next to me, slowly removed the robe from my shoulder, and let it fall to my waist. Melina smelled fresh, like a spring breeze. She pulled me close and kissed me openly and fully on the mouth. I responded awkwardly again, just holding her shoulder. She then gently prodded me to lay on the bed, removed my robe, and, still smiling broadly, positioned herself on top of me and lowered herself onto me. What passed next, I will keep to myself for personal reasons, but it was certainly a most interesting experience.
We later fell asleep with her lying in my arms. We awoke in the middle of the night and, after emptying our physical needs, Melina again filled our passions. When I awoke just before dawn, she was gone. I arose just as the first show of Apollo’s chariot appeared with the light of a new day. I took a cold plunge bath, then packed my bags and left the palace.
After dawn broke, I was in the necropolis looking for the small stele that marked my parents’ grave. They had died in the plague when I was nine. I had gotten it, too, but for some reason, I had survived. It had left me scarred both inside and out, and stunted my growth. I limped and was awkward for years. I could never be a strong warrior like Cleon or Iolaos, or even a soldier. That fact, plus being an orphan and lame, made me almost an outcast in the polis. My brain was always quick, however, and I learned fast. Malcor had taken me in as an apprentice, and I had helped him in the forest until age fifteen, when he had sent me to the academy. There, they had not seemed to care as much about my maladies. Fortunately, I grew out of most of them.
I finally found the stele with their names, and I reached into my backpack, took out my mourning cloth, and put it on. I knelt and prayed to let them know I had returned and what I had done. Whether this does any good or not, I frankly do not know. Openly I pay homage to the gods, but in truth, I believe in none of them. I doubt there is even an afterlife, so what I am doing here may look like hypocrisy. It does make me feel good, however, and who knows? I could be wrong. After I finished, I stood up and ripped the mourning cloth off, then tied the torn ends together and placed it over the obelisk. It was then I felt a presence in my head. I could tell someone was watching me. I reached into my robe and fingered a fighting knife, then turned and walked carefully toward the road. As I approached, Melina and Cleon were standing together, holding two horses. Iolaos and three guards were with them.
Cleon held out his hand, and I shook it. Melina just kissed me on the cheek again.
Cleon patted the horse and then told me, “We found out the thief you caught had also stolen two horses from a distant farm. He goes on trial today. Since we all saw the crime and we have at least ten witnesses, his guilt is beyond doubt.”
“Will you execute him?” I asked.
“No,” Cleon answered with a smile. “Instead I am going to recommend he become a public slave. For the rest of his miserable life, he will work for the polis. A dead thief does no one any good. A working slave may actually do something useful. I think the first task I will assign him is to clean the market, starting with Mother Areaus’s stall. I am sure he will enjoy that.”
I laughed with the others. “I see the wisdom of your father has found a new home,” I told him. “May you rule as long and wisely as he did.” I bowed to them again.
Cleon went on. “As for the horses he stole, it is far too much trouble to send them back, so I decided to give them to you as a reward for his capture. It is more than a full day’s walk with your bags to Malcor’s old place. The horses will make it easier and faster.”
I smiled again, and Cleon helped me tie my bags to the back of the second horse. I tied its reins to the saddle of the first horse and mounted. I leaned over and shook hands with both of them again.
“The gods go with you,” Melina said and kissed me once more on the cheek.
“And be with you,” I said. I kicked the horse forward and with a wave of my hand, started on the next part of my journey home.
 
CHAPTER TWO: HOMECOMING

The Forest of Allund is a strange place to the outsider. Even its name is strange. Malcor, whose name is also unusual, told me this had been its name as far back as anyone could remember, even back in the Days of Myth. The forest begins near Korpolis and follows the Allund River for about a full day’s travel before it ends at the Central Mountains. The Allund River runs down from the White Mountains to the northeast, through the forest, and through the only large gap in the Central Mountains. It then empties into the wastelands to the west. It is in those vast unsettled desert lands that it dries up. The Polis of Dysiasty lies on the river, three days’ travel to the west of the mountains. Beyond Dysiasty, there are no settlements or people except for the wild men of the desert.
The road I am on we call the Salt Road because the salt merchants of Dysiasty and the merchants of Korpolis use it to trade salt and goods. It is not used as much nor maintained as well as the main roads in the Vasíleio* of Argina*. The salt trade into Argina is what started Korpolis and kept it alive until the area became a center for cattle, sheep, and farming. Now I had the road to myself. Salt and goods only travel by large caravans that contain many men and many more weapons to keep the wild men at bay. Such caravans are growing more infrequent, and so is the use of the road.
Even though I was alone, I was not afraid. The forest was dense; only within a stadion* north of the flowing stream was the road clear. On the south side, past the farms, was open grassland. It was common to see deer, boar, and other animals feeding in the open to the south, unconcerned by my presence. They only moved back whenever I came within bowshot of them. The other creatures ignored me, and I paid them no mind.
The reason the forest is empty of people is that most are afraid to come here. The forest has a reputation: those who wander in the deep forest do not return home, which is true. The chronicles contain many stories about hunters who pursued game into the deepest and darkest parts of the forest. None ever returned. People may gather wood along the edge of the forest, but will not go into the deep woods. Their fear is not of the desert men. Those wild men stay in the desert because the forest scares them more than it does us. Malcor used to say it is because powerful forces protect this forest. I never believed it until he showed me what some of those forces were.
I rode openly until I came within sight of the old apple and cherry orchard Malcor had planted. The trees were still there and looked in good shape. The trees were not my concern, however. The small column of smoke rising from behind the orchard was what concerned me. Iolaos was right; someone was here. I dismounted and tied my horse’s reins to one of the apple trees. I walked into the grove, keeping out of sight until I could see the old wood-and-thatch hut Malcor had built and I had helped him keep up. For a place not occupied for over five years, it looked remarkably well. Someone had maintained the grove and the small fields that grew grain, vegetables, flowers, herbs, and healing plants. Malcor could be living there now for all I could tell. The outhouse we had built over the stream was still there, the small water wheel turned, and the smokehouse looked properly maintained. The column of smoke was coming from the smokehouse. This was no barbarian squatter; this was someone who knew how to take care of a place and did.
“Whoever is out there, stand in the open where I can see you,” a voice yelled from the inside of the hut. The voice was higher pitched, almost feminine in tone.
A warning can work in both ways, I knew. I summoned the magik to make my voice thunder. “I am no moros*. I will come out into the open when you do.”
There came a rumbling noise from inside the hut, and a few moments later, the wooden plank front door opened quickly. Out came a flash of white and pink. The diving figure hit the ground, rolled to the right, and then took cover behind some barrels near the front door. When it stopped moving, I could see it clearly. To my shock, it was a woman, a very big woman.
I am short and thin, so almost all men and some women are taller than I am. In fact, Melina was about a doron* taller than I am. This woman was at least a podi taller than me and outweighed me by at least a talent*. She was young, blonde, and obviously very agile; wore a short white tunic; and was now pointing a large war bow, with an arrow already strung, uncomfortably close to my location.
“You have no need of the bow,” I yelled. “If I were going to attack you, I would have done so by now.”
“That is what you say,” the woman called back.
So be it, I said to myself. I focused my concentration and visualized a higher energy realm that felt easy to draw power from. I directed that power into my right hand and called out, “Pyra.” The blue ball easily appeared in my hand. I directed the ball to fly away from me and toward, but not at, the woman. It flew across the open ground and exploded with a thunderclap harmlessly away from the hut and its occupant. The woman dove behind the barrels at the sound of the blast but was unharmed. The arrow in the bow shot harmlessly into the forest. I waited until she came to her senses and rose to her knees.
“Satisfied now?” I called out. “I am coming out. Do not string another arrow on your bow, or the next blast will come directly at you.”
I walked out from behind the apple tree and into the open space between the orchard and the hut. My arms were up, ready to cast if necessary. The young woman put her bow on the ground and got up. Her clothing was not the local style. At her side, she also wore a large leather belt from which hung two large fighting knives and a long iron sword. She approached cautiously. We walked toward each other. I suddenly felt a slight sensation in my head, like when I am with others like me, but not nearly so strong. She was no mage, however. We closed until we were ten paces from each other.
“Are you a god?” she called out.
“A god!” I laughed. “Tell me, would a god walk around in a puny body like mine?” I let that sink in before adding, “No, I am only a mage.”
“Like the old man who travelers tell me used to live here,” she said. Her Greek was good, but spoken with a heavy western accent.
She did know something about this place.
“That man was Malcor and he helped raise me and teach me. I have been gone these many years and have just returned from the Mage Academy on Lantis.”
“I have heard of the academy on Lantis,” she admitted. She seemed more relaxed. “I have met mages, but they were only from the lesser school on Syrina*, where I am from.”
That explained the accent and clothes. “Then you are an Amazon warrior from the steppes of Syrina. I have heard many things about your people, but I have never met an Amazon before.”
Her broad shoulders drooped. “I was,” she said weakly, “but no longer.”
She did not seem a threat to me, so I bowed slightly and introduced myself. “I am Alexio Sopholus, mage and citizen of Korpolis.”
She looked me over and did not seem impressed. “I am Philie of the Amazon Antelope Tribe.”
That was a mouthful. “You may call me Alex, as most people do.”
“Call me Philie,” she answered.
“Very well, Philie,” I replied. “May I ask what you are doing here?”
“Living here,” she said bluntly. “I came across the desert, through the opening in the mountains, and found this place abandoned. It looked nice, so I moved in. Now, why are you here?”
“I am here because Malcor, the previous owner, left it to me in his testament. I was away when he died and only arrived back several days ago. I expected to see the place run down. It looks in good condition, for which I am grateful.” I bowed slightly as a token of respect for her efforts.
She eyed me carefully. “You can prove this?”
I nodded. “Malcor’s testament is with the oligarch at Korpolis. If you wish, I will have him read it to you.”
“I can read,” she said, obviously annoyed I thought she was illiterate.
She was right; I had assumed that, as a woman and barbarian, she was illiterate. I held up my hand in apology. “I am sorry; I did not mean to insinuate you are uneducated. In that case, you may read it for yourself. I have no reason to lie to you.”
She did not look happy. I did not think she would try to attack me. She looked around at the place. “Well, if you are correct and this place is yours, what about me?”
That would be her problem normally. The law was on my side and I had not asked her to come. However, in fairness, she deserved something for her efforts. “As I said, you have maintained the place and as such deserve something for your work. I am willing to discuss fair payment to you for that work.”
She looked at me even more strangely. “Fairness,” she said as if I were speaking nonsense. “What does fairness matter? The strong take, the weak suffer.”
That was typical thinking for most primitive people. “Perhaps in Syrina this is true, but here in Argina, we live under the rule of law. As a mage, I am sworn to uphold fairness and justice, silly as that may sound to you. I will defend my claim to this place, but I will not cheat you to do it.”
“I will believe that when and if I see it,” she said and then looked at the sky. “It is too late for you to ride back to Korpolis on this day.”
“I was not going to,” I said.
She started to say something but closed her mouth.
“There was another sleeping room in the hut,” I told her. The big room Malcor used, and I slept in the other.
“That was true, but the bed and straw were so old and decayed when I arrived, I burned them. That room is now empty.”
That was a problem, but I knew better than to suggest I sleep in her room. There was another place. “Very well. I will sleep in Malcor’s old cave and study. It is on the path leading up the nearby hill from the stream.”
“I know it,” she said. “I would not go in there. Every time I do, I feel—”
I interrupted her: “Sick in your stomach and uncomfortable, like someone is watching you.”
She looked shocked. “How would you know?”
I smiled, thinking of how the old man loved his privacy. Malcor never even let me enter his study unless he told me to. “Because I know how he did it. Most people would call it Warding Magik, designed to keep the unwelcome out without hurting them.”
“But he has been dead for five years, I was told,” Philie said. “How can a mage cast from Hades?”
“He does not have to,” I said. The less said about that, the better. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get my horses, but before that, there is another room I must visit.”
Philie pointed to the small hut over the stream, and I went in and relieved myself.
I took off the horses’ saddles and unpacked my things. Then, after taking off their bridles, I let the horses run free.
“You are setting them free?” she asked. “My horse disappeared the third day I was here.”
“They will not be here tomorrow but will join your horse and the other horses in the local herd. You and I can have our horses back anytime we want them as long as I am here.”
“More magik?” she asked suspiciously.
“Magik has nothing to do with this,” I said. “There are forces in this forest, other than me, that can do strange things.”
“I know,” she grumbled and rubbed her lower jaw. “Like watch someone from a distance and remain unseen?”
That was impressive; she had sensed them? “Yes,” I said simply.
She looked annoyed again. “Then would you mind telling this Amazon what these forces are?”
“I am sorry, but I cannot speak of them without their permission. Malcor introduced them to me when I was a boy living here. They trusted Malcor, and in time, trusted me. They know I have been gone. Tomorrow I will speak with them to let them know I am back. I will also tell them about you.”
With that, I carried my bags up the hill from the mill. In fairness, Philie carried one heavy bag easily. The old door creaked open, we put the bags in Malcor’s old cave, and then Philie left immediately. The warding was affecting her. I watched her go and, once satisfied that I was alone, I sat down carefully in his old, padded chair. To my surprise, it did not break.
In the room was an old desk. There were no papers, notes, or anything in writing. A dusty old lamp was there. On the wall, an astrolabe, compass, divider, and quadrant hung from hooks mounted into the solid rock. All looked as if they had not been disturbed for years. There were shelves, but they were all empty. In fact, other than the instruments, there was nothing in this room worth stealing. Exactly the way it should look.
In the rear of the cave was a large, plain rock wall that sounded solid when struck. Like most other things in this cave, that was an illusion. I looked at the wall and saw the familiar crack in it. Where the crack widened, there was a small sliver of rock. I concentrated my attention, brought power into my body from another realm, and focused it onto the sliver. It was basic Nature Magik.
“Energeia*,” I whispered, and a ball of pure force flew from my hand and pushed on that sliver. It slid back with a loud click. The rock wall moved out slightly. I brought my hand around and felt along the edge that had opened outward, found the hidden catch, and threw it. I heard a second click and the rock wall slid open like the front door of the hut.
Inside the large opening, Malcor had cut three bookshelves into the rock and filled them with papers and scrolls. This was Malcor’s private library. Many of these scrolls I had read even before I went to the academy. A student is not supposed to have any teaching in magik before his formal schooling starts, but Malcor ignored this, like so many other rules, and taught me. This was why I had passed easily through the academy. I had seen its knowledge before, but never told anyone about Malcor’s training or this place. They would never understand.
There was one other thing to do before the red sunset of this day. On the side of the hidden room was another blank rock wall. A small bit of white rock was mixed in with the gray and black stone of the wall. Again, I used the magik to push at that point. Again, the rock slid back, and I heard another loud click. A part of that wall slid out.
Inside the opening, another alcove that was three podia on a side and two podia deep contained three large scrolls wrapped in protective cloth. These were the results of Malcor’s research into the nature of magik. I knew they existed, but I had never seen them. Malcor told me I would not be ready to use them until I returned. Next to them was a large metal box with a lock, but no place to put a key. Only a metal mage could open it. Next to the box were three leather sacks. All were very heavy. I opened one and looked inside. As I expected, Malcor had filled it with gold dust. With the other two sacks, that would make nearly half a talent’s worth of gold, or about 3,000 drachmae* — a fortune by any standard. Behind that was a covered picture. I removed the scrolls, bags, and metal box and slowly studied them. Malcor had made sure I knew about these hidden locations and how to access them before I left. What he had hidden there, however, had been a mystery to me until now.
The picture barely fit inside the rock opening. It was in a silver frame that looked familiar. I took it out and removed the cover from it. When I saw the picture, I almost dropped it in shock. It was a drawing made of my parents right after they had married. I remembered it used to hang in our house. When the plague had hit, the oligarch had ordered that part of the polis burned down to kill off the disease. Our house had burned to ashes in the fire. I thought this picture burned with the house. I never knew until now that Malcor or anyone else had saved it.
My eyes watered uncontrollably as I fought to regain control of myself. It was the first time I had seen the faces of my parents since Phillipos had taken me from my house during the plague. My parents were already dead then. I never saw my mother and father put on the pyre along with the rest of the plague victims. I was near death myself and it was many days before I woke up again.
It took a while to regain my composure. A mage must always be in control of himself, as a situation can turn into a disaster if he is not. As soon as I felt steady again, I put the picture aside and looked at the metal box. This time I used Metal Magik and felt inside the lock to push on a piece of metal. Another click and the lock fell off. I opened the box.
On top was a small scroll. Under that was a leather necklace on which hung a purple crystal of a thumb’s length. Under that necklace was a similar purple crystal, only this one was half the length of my forearm. It still glowed with a dim purple light. I knew this crystal. It was the Speaking Stone. It was generating the warding spell that Philie felt. I put the leather necklace around my neck. Even though no one had worn the necklace for years, I still felt a surge of raw power flow through me. I reached out and instantly stood among the realms that surround our world. The brightest lights were the highest power realms, so I touched them with my right hand while holding the Speaking Stone in my left. I let the power from the realms pass through me almost without effort. This was the easiest casting I had ever done. I looked at the large crystal in my hand. It was dim but soon glowed brighter and brighter until the room filled with light as bright as noon. I removed my hand from the realms and the room reappeared before me.
Besides the bright light emanating from the Speaking Stone, the crystal around my neck was also glowing brightly. Now I had plenty of light to read. I first read the scroll in the box. I could tell at once it was in Malcor’s handwriting. The date on it was over five years ago.
Alex, my son,
I hoped I would be alive when you returned from the academy, but the gods or fates have decreed otherwise. I will go to see Phillipos in Korpolis tomorrow and I do not think I will return. I can no longer use the Life Magik to sustain myself. My time has come at last.
I have spoken to our forest friends and told them that, one day, you will return to take my place. As you will see, it is important this place be guarded well, not only because of its easy path into the vasíleio, but because of the forces at work here. I am sure you have already felt that it is very easy to cast magik here. In this forest, the barriers between the realms are weak and almost unlimited power is readily available. That power can be used for good or ill. I shudder to think what some of the lesser trained mages would do if they knew of this. I hardly trust myself here at times.
Why this is so, I do not know. It may be because of our friends, or our friends may be a result of this place. Perhaps the gods know, for I do not. I do know two things: this place must be guarded, and this place must be kept secret. I discovered it by accident and I have been tempted to use its power to solve the problems of this world. You must never give in to that temptation. Man does not have the moral right, the ethics, or the wisdom to act with the power of the gods, no matter how noble and important he may think that cause is. You must never do this either. This power is only to be used for the protection of this place. Your friends will help you in this. The crystal necklace is your connection to the forest. No matter where you go, it will allow you the same access to this power as if you were standing in this cave. Use it only if you have to.
I have left you some gold to help you buy anything you need. You know how to get more if needed. Use that wealth wisely and not much in one place or you will draw attention to yourself and this forest.
I have also left you all the secrets I have learned practicing my magik in this forest. Like the gold, use that knowledge wisely and not too openly. Our Brotherhood of Mages trains to be fair and avoid the temptation to act as a god. Even so, there are few I would trust with this knowledge. You were an honest boy and young man. That is why I chose you, not because I felt sorry after your parents died. I know you will guard this place well. I have been in contact with the master mages who teach at the academy. They tell me you are one of the best, if not the best student in your class. They have confirmed what I already knew: you will be a mage of unusually strong power. Again, you must use this power wisely.
Finally, I have included the picture of your parents. I never told you I had it because you would have wanted it and you were not ready to understand its true meaning. That picture is not just to remind you of your parents, who loved you dearly. It is to remind you of where you came from and what you were, an honest boy who tried to be fair. Always be that way and you will not go wrong. Remember your parents and keep them in your heart. They will guide you in the difficult tasks that will befall you in the many years to come. Also remember this old man who, although he took you in to help him with a great task, learned to love you as his own son.
May the gods go with you.
M
I dropped the scroll and, for the first time since I was a child, cried openly. I did so for a while, and then my sorrow was replaced by a sudden dread. I always knew this place had power, but I never knew why. I felt as if Atlas had dropped the weight of the world on my slim shoulders, and I had no idea if I could carry it. I felt unprepared and scared. To take my mind off the numbing reality, I read over the three scrolls for a while. It was amazing just what Malcor had discovered about using the magik in this place. It was as if I had known nothing of the magik before and suddenly had access to all its secrets. I read late into the night before I could go on no longer. I stripped down to my loincloth and walked out of the cave, past the small mill, and into the open field away from the hut. I found a clearing with a limited view of the sky and some of the 342 little red dots of light above me. I sat down and concentrated.
I was not trying to use the magik. I was trying to enter a trance state where I could shed my body of these feelings of fear, weakness, and inadequacy. I felt completely unequal to the task Malcor had set before me, yet I knew I could not give it up. My homecoming had not turned into a blessing, but seemed a curse. As I sank deeper into my trance, I was able to push my mind outside my body and stand apart from it. There I was alone, even from myself. I looked to the heavens, searching for some sign or guidance.
“Whooooo.” A sound came from above me.
“What?” I called out.
“Whooooo.” It came again.
I fell back into my body. I glanced over and saw an owl sitting on a branch of the tree closest to me. The large white owl looked down directly at me.
“Whooooo,” it called again.
I looked up. “Me, that is who,” I said.
The owl flapped its wings and dropped down to land on a branch just above me. I could reach out and touch it. I held out my arm and sure enough, it landed on me. I expected its claws to dig into my skin but felt nothing, not even its weight on my arm. The owl turned its head and looked at me intently with two yellow eyes.
“When the time comes, you will have help,” the owl clearly said. Its voice sounded like a high-pitched squeak. “Malcor has chosen well.”
Although I felt like an idiot, I asked the owl, “What kind of help?”
“You will know it,” the owl said. It was then I noticed the owl was not speaking out loud, but in my head, like my other animal friends.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Someone sent to help you. For now, you are troubled and are in need of rest. Sleep!”
I fell to the ground as if the Cyclops had hit me.
 
CHAPTER THREE: FRIENDS

I woke up just after dawn and looked myself over. Despite what had happened, I was no worse for wear. I searched around me; there was no owl or any other creature nearby. I noticed the increasing red glow in the sky and that I was still lying half-naked in the open. That was no way for a mage to present himself. I got to my feet and quickly retraced my path to the cave. Inside, everything was as I had left it. I took Malcor’s scrolls and locked them back inside the hidden rocky alcove, but kept the picture of my parents out and hung it from one of the hooks.
Once the room was presentable, I took a clean mage robe and went down to the pond. In the cool water, I rubbed scented oil I had bought in Korpolis into my skin before removing it with a strigil*. Then I washed thoroughly in the pond. I emptied my bowels, scrubbed my teeth with cleaning powder, and took some of the prepared food Cleon had given me as a light meal. I was then ready to do what I needed to this day.
I went back to the cave and pulled out the Speaking Stone. Drawing power into it again, I concentrated and spoke aloud into the glowing purple light. “This is Alex. I have come back. I need to speak to all of you. I will meet you in the clearing.”
With that, I walked away from my cave and down the path. I heard a splash of water. I looked up and saw Philie standing in the shallow pond, washing. As I had been earlier, she was naked.
“Apologies,” I called out and turned my back to return to the cave.
“Come on down. You have not seen a naked woman before?” she called out. “I did not make a fuss when I saw you bathing earlier.”
Now I felt embarrassed, but did not turn around. “Again, apologies, I did not know you were up.”
“Maybe it is different in this land, but where I come from, we are often naked when we bathe, exercise, or practice fighting. We are like this even near men. I do not mind a man seeing me naked as long as he keeps his hands to himself.”
“With your strength, I would be afraid not to keep my hands at my side,” I said.
I heard a chuckle from behind me. I turned around slowly and saw her standing there. She had blond hair all over her body. She was actually quite nice-looking: besides her huge build, she had a pretty face, ample breasts, wide hips, and white skin. She could be like Melina, but Melina was soft; Philie’s body looked as hard as the mountains.
“Where are you going this early?” she asked.
“I must see some of my friends,” I answered, trying to look at only her face. “I have been away a long time.”
“If you wait, I will go with you,” she said.
I let out a deep breath, knowing what I was going to say would offend her. “Philie, I cannot take you with me. My friends would either not come, or worse, take offense at your presence. In either case, it would be bad for both of us. I need to see them alone, at least for now.”
“Very well. Have it your way,” she shot back tersely and turned around. Her white, perfectly shaped backside was not bad to look at either.
I walked past the apple and cherry groves. As expected, my horses were gone. I walked on into the forest, turned away from the river, and passed through a solid canopy of trees. Around me were the sounds of birds calling their warnings and the scurrying of smaller animals running away from me. I reached out with my mind and felt my surroundings. There were others present, but not the ones I had come to see. It was only the ordinary forest creatures that lived here going about their daily business of survival. I walked on, and suddenly the forest came to an abrupt stop. In front of me was a field almost a full stadion in diameter. I walked into the open red sunlight and stood in the center.
At the center was a small pile of white rocks. It was here had I first met them when Malcor had brought me as a ten-year-old. As I had all those years before, I sat down next to the rocks, only this time I did not watch Malcor call them. I concentrated on the forest opening around me, letting my body resonate with the power of this place before I called out, “I am here.”
“Caaawwwwww,” I heard from above me. Without opening my eyes, I stood up. I felt two gusts of wind flow around me, and the shaking of the earth twice as two large weights hit the ground. I opened my eyes.
Before me stood two golden eagles. They had glistening brown plumage, bright-banded yellow feet, huge claws, and heavy yellow beaks. Rather than standing as tall as my hip, they were taller than I, and I had to look up to them. I walked forward and lightly petted their necks and wings. The female eagle lowered her head and nuzzled the side of my face gently. I put my arms around her neck and hugged her.
“Aerra,” I said aloud. “I have missed you.” I turned and hugged the male, who stood more aloof. “Aetos, I have missed you too.”
Their voices spoke to me in my mind. “You have come back as Malcor said you would.” They looked and felt happy to see me.
The ground started to rumble a bit as I felt a heavy vibration. I turned and saw two large boars run out of the woods. They had coats of light black fur, squat bodies, short tails, large humps over their front shoulder, massive heads, and teeth that looked like swords. They stood twice as tall as I. I walked up to both of them.
“Kypos,” I called to the male and petted the huge head with the mouth that could have easily swallowed me. “Kapria,” I said and hugged her huge flank. They both moved up to me and gently rubbed their sides against mine.
“You are back,” Kapria said with obvious happiness.
“Yes,” I answered. “It has been far too long.”
The ground shook again, but not nearly so hard. These were lighter steps, more delicate. I looked to my left and then came two more of my friends. They had reddish-brown fur on their bodies, long narrow faces, and black noses. The male looked like two small trees were growing from his head. The two trees formed arcs that ended in many points. The two red deer were as large as the two boars, and they walked up and looked down at me.
“Alkos,” I said and petted his massive side. “Alkina,” I said and did the same. For some reason, I had never gotten along as well with the deer as with the others, but they both nuzzled me.
I did not need to hear the next two guests. The eagles and deer pulled away as two huge black-and-white shapes leaped into the clearing. Each had four massive feet, a huge canine head, long dagger-like teeth, and a bushy tail. Except for the single head, they might have been mistaken for Cerberus. As they came forward, the others, except the boars, backed up. I do not blame them. Wolves this size could swallow a herd of sheep. The male approached and buried his massive head in my chest, almost knocking me off my feet. I rubbed the top of his head as I would for any dog.
“Lykos,” I called out. The huge female then nipped at the back of my robe for attention. I turned and hugged her. “Lykina,” I said. “I have missed running in the forest with you. I remember how the two of you carried me on your backs when I was a child.”
“You have come back to your pack,” Lykos said affectionately. “Your scent was missed.”
The last two of my friends had waited for the others to arrive. That is because they knew they were my favorites, but I would never admit that to the others. Two large snow-white horses entered the clearing. They were at least twice the size of regular horses; they could be mistaken for large statues of horses except for the cubit-length horn growing from each of their foreheads. They are my unicorn friends, Keros and Kerina. I walked up to them and petted them on their flanks as I would any good horse.
“You were missed,” Kerina said, and I thought I could see tears in her huge black eyes.
“I have missed you too,” Keros said. “The youth has become a man.”
With that, I sat down. Other than the eagles, they all lay down before me. I could hardly believe I was there. The last time I had seen them was the day before I left Malcor to go to the Mage Academy.
“I only wish Malcor could be here with us,” I said, now tearing up openly in my happiness.
“He was old,” Lykos said. “It was the time of his passing.”
“You are here now, and you have come just in time,” Keros said.
That got my attention. “Is there something wrong?”
Aerra spoke up. The others went silent in my head. “Several suns ago, I was flying from my mountain aerie. To the west was a large cloud of smoke. It was smoke from a large fire. I have not seen such a fire before in the desert. The smoke lasted two suns and then it was gone. Since that time, no one has used the road.”
The only large place to the west of us was Dysiasty, with about five thousand people. Could they have had a massive fire in the town? Even so, if it was that bad, people could travel the three days’ journey to us for help. In fact, this was the only place they could come. I did not like the sound of this. I needed to know more about what happened.
“Aerra, could you and Aetos fly toward Dysiasty and see what is happening? If there was a fire, people may be heading toward us, looking for help. I will need to tell the oligarch in Korpolis so they can prepare.”
“Yes, we can fly,” Aetos told me. “We will go at first sun.”
“Call to me when you return, and I will meet you,” I instructed.
“We will,” the big eagle said.
“What of the woman at the hut?” Lykos asked.
I knew that was going to come up. “I have met her. When she came here, she found the hut empty. She did not know I would return. She has felt your presence and knows you watch her, but she does not know who you are.”
“She has felt us?” Lykos questioned. “That is very strange for a human. We have also felt her, but she does not cast her thoughts like you do.”
“I know,” I answered. “She comes from far away. She is also not stupid.”
“She also does not take from the forest more than she needs,” Keros added. “This is unusual behavior for man or woman.”
“She killed a deer, a young male,” Alkos said in a huff.
“She has killed a deer and used it as food. That is no more than any of us does,” Keros came back. I thought I picked up a little agitation in his thoughts.
“That is no worse than one of my pack,” Lykos added.
“One thing more,” Kapria said. “This female has also been watched by one of the Old Ones. Just why this is, I do not know.”
“Hmm,” I mumbled. “It is unusual that one of the Old Ones would be interested in anything that happens here. Does anyone know if she has gone into the deep forest?”
A collection of blank stares and the lack of replies told me no one knew. That meant my friends had not watched her constantly. Malcor told me the kings and queens constantly watch anyone they think is a threat.
“Will the woman stay?” Alkos asked.
“I do not know,” I told them. “I was going to ask her to leave, but since she can sense you, and she has drawn the attention of the Old Ones, it makes me want to think more on this. Malcor always told me ‘Do not make a quick decision unless you have to.’ I do not have to. Besides, I want to know more about the fire before I send her away. She could be useful if there is a problem.”
I could see general agreement among all of them regarding my thoughts. That took care of immediate concerns; now to catch up on old times. “You must all tell me what has happened since I have been gone. I need to learn much.”
I spent the rest of the day with my old friends, catching up on what had passed, which I can sum up in just two words: nothing important. People come and people go. The only major incident had occurred just after Malcor died. A party of five youths had decided to ignore the old man’s advice and explore the deep forest. Malcor had always cautioned against it and stopped it if he found out about it. As expected, none of them were ever seen again. Every twenty years or so, some group of fools does this with the same results. My friends and others here do not like visitors.
It was nearly dark when I returned to the hut. Philie was outside, carving a leg of a chair. Malcor had metal and woodworking shops in the back of the hut. Neither had been used since he died, or so I thought. She saw me coming and stood up.
“Did you see your friends?” she asked sarcastically.
“Yes, I did,” I said and kept walking toward the cave until I remembered what Aerra had told me. Philie should know about that in case it led to trouble. I turned and walked back, watching her use Malcor’s wood chisel to work on the leg. It looked well done.
“You do good work,” I said, looking closer at the leg in her hand.
“Nice of you or your friends to notice,” she grumbled.
Part of me told me to just walk off and leave her, but I felt that was wrong. Now that I had talked to my friends, maybe I could straighten things out for the better. I should at least try. I knelt and looked directly at her.
“Philie, I talked to my friends. You are right; they were watching you. They do not know you and are suspicious of you. Do not feel bad about this; they were suspicious of me when I first came here to live with Malcor.”
She looked at me and snorted. “Well, I have been here for two years. If they haven’t learned about me by now, they never will.”
“But no one was here to explain you to them like Malcor was here when I came,” I went on. “As for learning about you, they have. They talked to me about you. Some actually admire you.”
She stopped and put both leg and chisel down. “They admire me,” she repeated. “Why?”
I grinned. Now I had gotten her attention. “Because you do not take from this forest any more than you have to. You are not like the others that come here, shooting arrows at everything that moves. They have seen that all too often in the past, and it is one of the reasons they are so wary.”
Philie did not look convinced. “If they are as powerful as you say, why are they concerned about what one person does?”
“At your actions, they are not concerned,” I continued. “At what you might be able to do, they are very concerned. You see, if I were to bring them here now and show them to you, you would most likely think they were monsters. As you and I both know, when men or women encounter monsters, they tend to think with their swords and not with their wits. They are not afraid of you. They are afraid of the others you could bring here with your stories. My friends are powerful, but even the most powerful can be hurt by sword, spear, and arrow. They are not the gods. They know their best protection is in concealment. Therefore, they do not trust others easily.”
“Interesting,” she muttered. “I can appreciate not putting trust in others you do not know. I have had some bad experiences with that myself. Your argument is logical, and I can at least understand the reasoning — unlike before.”
“That was partly my fault,” I had to admit. “I could have explained it better to you. It is also why I have never told anyone about them, not even the oligarch, who is my friend, or the master mages at the academy. They would not understand, and there could be terrible consequences for all of us in their not understanding.”
Philie stood, towering over me even more. She looked at the unfinished wooden chair leg and the dimming light around us. “Enough for one day,” she said, looking down at me. “I have made a venison and vegetable stew, and there is more than enough for one. I also made bread this morning. You are welcome to half of each.”
I got up, so now she only towered over me by slightly more than a podi. “Thank you. I accept your hospitality.”
“There is no chair for you to sit on,” she said. “I am repairing it now.”
“I will sit on the tree stump you use as a workbench,” I said.
“Fine. I will bring my good chair and we will sit outside in the cool air.”
“One thing more,” I told her. “One of my friends noticed a large fire to the west of us. It looked as though it was coming from the Polis of Dysiasty.”
That stopped her in her place. “That is interesting; your friend must have the eyes of an eagle to notice that from this distance.”
I repressed my laughter and simply nodded. Philie went in and came out with two bowls of steaming hot stew. I put my bowl on the ground next to me. She retrieved two wooden spoons and half a loaf of bread, then broke the bread in half and gave one part to me. I took the stew and bread and sat down on the stump. We started to eat. Philie was a good cook.
“This is excellent,” I told her. “I thank you again.”
“I do not have any wine to offer you,” Philie apologized. “Grapes do not do well in this forest, and neither do olives.”
“There I can help,” I said. I stood and trotted toward the cave. Inside were my things from the polis, including a large wineskin of well-watered wine Cleon had given me. I took it back to the stump.
“Try this,” I said. “It is well watered.”
Philie held the bag up and took a large mouthful. “Ah!” she exclaimed. “It has been a while since I tasted wine. I have heard mages drink well-watered wine only. Why?”
That question was easy to answer. “Do you remember when I threw the fireball the other day?”
“Yes,” Philie answered, not seeing the point.
“Now imagine me doing that if I were drunk as a sailor on his first night in port,” I said.
She thought about it for a moment and then saw the possible outcomes. “I see,” she said. “That could be bad for everyone around the mage.”
“Very bad,” I emphasized. “This is why mages are taught from the start of their training to drink in moderation and to avoid excess in all things. Otherwise, chaos, destruction, injury, and death can ensue.”
“I never thought of it like that,” she said. “Definitely not like that for us Amazons. We have been known to get so drunk that it would shame Dionysus himself.”
She made a valid point; we were not the same.
“Maybe if I saw the world as you do, I would feel the same way. However, I am only a mage and not a warrior, so I admit I do not know.”
“At least you are honest about it,” she said, eagerly eating her stew. “That is something else I heard about mages, that they do not lie.”
I had to laugh. “I wish that were true. Mages are supposed to be honest and to seek justice with fairness in all things. This is because mages often act as magistrates or serve on juries. At the academy, they teach us to listen closely, to offer judgment to the best of our abilities, and to consider only the arguments of the case. We are not to accept bribes in any form. Unfortunately, some of my mage brothers have not been dedicated enough to the Mage Code to do that.”
“Mage Code?” Philie asked. “That I have never heard of.”
“Few outside of our profession have heard of it,” I told her. “Most would laugh at it. It is a code of principles all mages must swear to uphold. Upon graduation from the academy, we swear an oath in the Temple of Megas Zeus to uphold it. All my instructors, both at the academy and with Malcor here, have impressed upon me why the code must be followed. If it is not, then chaos reigns.”
“Yes, I can understand that,” she said. “When we become full-blooded warriors in the Amazon tribes, we swear an oath to Hera to fight bravely and, if necessary, to the death to protect our tribe. We also swear not to allow men to dominate us for any reason. Oh, we will have relations with men, some long-term, but not to live as a slave, but a partner. After all, new Amazons have to come from somewhere. Do mages marry?”
“Most do not, but some do,” I answered. “There is nothing in the code about that. In my case it is irrelevant.”
“Why is that?” she asked. “You are small in height, but still a man.”
“No, I am not,” I said. “I am small because when I was a boy, the plague came to Korpolis. My parents died in it; I barely survived as a child of nine. The disease left me stunted, slight of build, and not very strong. It also means I cannot have children, although everything else works as normal.”
“I am sorry,” Philie said. It was the first time she looked at me with concern. “I did not know that, and I thank you for sharing it with me. As for me, I am no longer an Amazon warrior. Four years ago, there was an argument over a nephew of the Archon of Western Syrina. He told me he favored me, but my tribal leader had a daughter she wanted to mate with the young man to help solidify a treaty between us. The man told me of his decision to sleep with her instead. I was so mad, I struck him out of rage. He fell and hit his head on a pedestal, which killed him. I had to flee from the archon, the man’s father, and my own tribe.”
“I took a ship to Esterport from Syrina, but the ship ran aground on the west coast of this land. I washed ashore with the remains of the ship on the barren beach. Four others and I gathered up what we could salvage from the ship and decided to make for Dysiasty, far away. Between the desert and the wild men, I was the only one to survive the journey. I was not wanted in Dysiasty, so I left and came here.”
“So, you have no family either,” I realized.
“No,” she said. “In that we are alike.”
I had finished my stew and bread and drunk all the wine I wanted. The mental effort of talking to my friends had made me tired. I yawned and stood up. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. I hope to learn more about Dysiasty tomorrow. Until then, I thank you for the meal. You may keep the wine if you wish.”
“No, there is enough for one more meal,” she said, handing me the wineskin. “I am also tired. We will talk tomorrow, and do not worry about my bathing. As I said, I do not mind. As for your bathing, I do not mind that either. Besides, you are not small in all things,” she said with a smile.
With that, I went to bed with a smile on my face. 
CHAPTER FOUR: UNEXPECTED

I awoke the next morning and decided to stay near my cave until I heard from Aetos and Aerra. After a quick bath, I washed my dirty laundry near the old mill. Philie came out and started chopping wood while it was still cool. The way she easily used the heavy iron ax to chop logs was impressive. I could never have handled an ax that big. After I finished, I went back inside the cave and continued reading through Malcor’s papers. It was some time later when I heard Philie yell out.
“Zeus! What is that?”
I flung the scroll aside and bolted out the door. As I ran down the path, I saw a large, quickly moving shadow on the ground. I knew at once what it was. Philie had no idea. I cursed myself immediately; I should have told my friends never to come here. I ran past the pond as I saw Philie run out of the hut with her war bow and a notched arrow.
“Philie, no!” I yelled. I immediately started collecting energy to push her off her feet if she raised the bow to aim at the shadow.
She turned to face me. “By Apollo, what is that thing?”
I motioned for her to stop while yelling “no” again. By now, another shadow had appeared and the two were flying overhead. I finally reached Philie and grabbed the arm holding the bow.
“Philie, no, that is one of my friends,” I said loudly.
“Friends?” she yelled back, loud enough to make my ears ring. “You are friends with a gryphon?”
“It is no gryphon,” I said between breaths. “They will not harm you as long as you do not try to harm them.”
“Harm them?” she yelled, pointing at the shapes gliding overhead. The trees did not allow us to see them clearly. “Have the Furies taken your wits? They look as if they could swallow us whole.”
“They will not eat us,” I said to reassure her. “Now excuse me, I have to use the magik.”
With that, I concentrated. “I will meet you in the clearing,” I reminded them.
“Caaaawwwwww,” I heard from above, and the shadows disappeared to the east.
I watched the figures disappear and then felt a large hand grab me by the shoulder and spin me around like a child’s toy top.
“What was that thing?” she asked again, glaring into my eyes.
With a lot of effort, I removed her hand off my shoulder. I was starting to get angry now. “It is not a thing.” I glared back at her. “Those are two of my friends,” I said as forcefully as I could.
“You told me nothing about them,” she said, barely containing her anger.
I took several deep breaths to calm myself and remembered what the Mage Code said about acting in anger. “I told you last night that men and women would see my friends as monsters. Well, you just proved that to me. To you, they are. To me, they are not. Why do you think I never brought them here? It is because I knew you would act exactly like this. You would do something stupid like shoot at them with an arrow, and they would tear you to shreds. By Hades, the pair you saw are not even close to the biggest or fiercest of my friends.”
I put my hand over my eyes, trying not to get angry with this woman. After all, the first time I had seen them, I had wanted to run like a rabbit. “Look, I have to go and talk to them. I have to know what is going on around here, and they can tell me. Please do not follow me.”
“Follow you?” she said, wide-eyed. “If those are your friends, I want to leave here as fast as Hermes can carry me.”
“If that is what you want, then go!” I said, walking away. “I will not try to stop you. I will have your horse brought here. You can also have my spare horses to carry your things.”
With that, I turned my back on her and walked quickly into the forest, following an old overgrown path I knew from when I was a boy. I walked quickly away, still angry with her. I had thought she understood what I told her, but I realized I had been a fool to think that. I walked on through the thickening forest. Away from the hut, the trees closed in. These are large, older trees; their huge trunks grow thick on the ground, and their canopies form a continuous cover overhead. They do not allow sunlight to reach the ground, so nothing will grow underneath them. I walked on and suddenly felt a presence in my head, but looked back and saw nothing. I knew it was Keros and Kerina. For as big as they are, they can move like ghosts.
“I feel you, my friends,” I said loudly.
“You felt us at a greater distance,” Keros spoke. “We can no longer sneak up on you as we did before.”
I waited for the two huge horses to appear from the half-lit forest. They came up silently and stood next to me.
“Your friend is afraid,” Kerina said.
“Yes, as I am sure all men would be afraid if they saw any of you,” I said with a moan. “And scared men act violently, whether they understand or not.”
“That is true,” Keros said flatly.
“Very true,” I heard another voice call to us. “Only you still have hope she will understand. Malcor knew better than to hope for that.”
“Yes, Alkos,” I said to the large deer, although he was nowhere to be seen. “Yes, I still have hope. After all, a scared ten-year-old boy came to know you and trust you. If I can understand, perhaps so can others, but I will not risk them hurting you in their fear.”
We walked on for a little way, and the huge stag and doe joined us just before we walked into the clearing. The others were already there. I greeted each one before stopping in front of Aetos and Aerra to gently stroke their brown plumage. “What have those sharp eyes seen to the west?”
“Many bad things are at the man aerie,” Aetos squawked. “It is burned with fire. Many men on horses ride near the aerie. Many dead in the aerie: male, female, hatchlings. All dead. All killed by men on horses. I flew from the aerie to the forest. Many were lying still on the road. Many look like they fly toward here. The men on horses catch them and kill all of them. Now men on horses ride here.”
That was stunning. There had been barbarian raids on Dysiasty before, but never like this. They could never get over the thick walls, and they had neither wood nor the skill to make siege engines. They had also not come to the forest in over a hundred years. What was going on?
“Aetos, how many are coming here?” I wanted to know.
The bird thought for a moment before squawking, “Many more; more than are here now, but less than a flock.”
That could mean anything from a dozen to fifty. Some of my friends cannot count well. I had to make do with this information. “How long before they get here?” I asked.
“Here now,” the eagle answered.
“Zeus!” I cursed. “Philie. I have to warn Philie.”
I looked around at the rest of them. “Go hide. These men are killers. I am sure they will kill any of us if they can. I have to warn the woman.”
“Get on my back. I am faster than you,” Keros said, lowering himself to his knees so I could climb up.
I had some problems reaching Keros’s back, so Lykos gave me a gentle shove with his nose. Once I was settled, Keros ran like the wind for my hut. We dodged around the trees, always running at full speed. It did not take long to cover the distance, and as we approached the hut, Keros stopped. I slid down and ran for the hut.
“Philie!” I yelled out.
As I got close to the door, she walked out, looking annoyed. “What?” she called out.
“We have to flee,” I told her. “Dysiasty has been sacked by the barbarians. Everyone is dead, even those trying to flee on the road. A party of barbarians will be here in a moment. Maybe a dozen, maybe fifty — I don’t know, but we have to go.”
She stood motionless for a moment. I reached over, grabbed her huge shoulders, and shook them as hard as I could. “Now, Philie!” I yelled and went into my cave. I ran up the path into the cave and threw the scrolls into the hidden compartment in a heap. I slammed the hidden doors shut, grabbed the Speaking Stone, and put it in my robe pocket. I fled down the path to the hut. Philie walked out with a sword, two knives, and her bow and quiver.
“Something is here,” I heard in the distance.
I ran past the mill, growing tired quickly, and heard several horses neigh. I ran into the opening next to the hut just in time to see six riders trot past the orchard.
“They are here!” the lead horseman shouted.
They were wearing different clothing from what the barbarians normally wore. Most of the desert tribes wore skins from their flocks or anything else they could scrounge, but these riders were in a uniform: yellow tunic and long yellow breeches, each carrying sword and lance with a shield on their backs. They funneled into the opening. There had to be two dozen at least and they kept coming. I pulled energy from the surrounding realms, formed a wind ball, and called out, “Aeras.”
Normally a ball of air would result that would at best blow a big gust of wind in the face of someone or trip a person, as I had done to the thief. This time, however, a huge ball of wind flew from my hand, hit the lead rider, lifted him and his horse off the ground, and flung them both to the earth. I had never been able to cast wind so powerful. I stood agape for a moment. In that time, the thrown rider rose to his feet, holding his left side and grimacing in pain. I snapped out of it and used the magik to amplify my voice. Maybe I could bluff them into fleeing.
“Leave here,” my voice thundered like that of Megas Zeus himself. The house shook, Philie put her hand over her ears, and several horses reared up, some throwing their riders.
I went on making gestures as if I were a god, and in that moment, I felt like one. “This forest is protected by divine powers. Leave here now or be destroyed.”
That got their attention. All the riders froze in place. Some started to back up when the leader, now standing half bent over, called out. “It is a trick, kill him! Kill him—”
The leader’s voice was silenced abruptly when he suddenly grew a two-podia-long shaft of wood from his chest. Philie had hit him with an arrow. The leader collapsed to the ground once more, only this time he did not move.
That broke the spell of indecision. “No!” several called out. “Kill them, kill them all,” many yelled out. “Kill them like we killed the others.” With that, they started forward again.
No choice now, I knew. I extended my arms, tapped the greatest energy realms I could find, and concentrated their energies within my body. The power flowed through me, filling me until I thought I might explode. I yelled out “Pyra!” and cast the fire as hard as I could.
Normally a fireball is about as big as my hand and, at worst, could kill or hurt two or three people. It would also set anything it hit alight. But what I saw emanating from my hand was half my height and rolled like a flaming ball into the group of riders. The screaming from man and horse started immediately. Then the ball exploded.
An orange-and-black cloud rose into the air like a huge mushroom, higher than the tallest tree.
Kaboom! came instantly. The impact of the blast knocked me flat on my back. Thatch fell off the roof; barrels were flung aside; Philie was thrown to the ground like a doll. The orchard near the riders erupted in flames. There was one horrible scream made of many voices, both human and horse, and then an eerie silence.
I lay on the ground for some unknown time. All I could think was Zeus had taken pity on us and thrown one of his thunderbolts at the barbarians. That could not have been my doing. No mage had ever cast a fireball that large before. I sat up slowly and turned to see Philie pulling herself up on a barrel, looking at me in horror. It was only then I remembered the riders. I rose to my feet, ready to cast again, but nothing moved except Philie.
I walked slowly forward. From where I stood, a huge scorch mark was burned into the ground. The grass and any wood on the ground had been burned to ashes. I came to the first horse and rider. All that remained were bare bones — all the flesh burned off them. I walked on, feeling numb and following the scorch mark as it slashed through the riders. Even those farthest away looked like burnt charcoal, both men and horses. Half a dozen apple trees were burning. I had to stop that.
I looked at the burning trees and reached upward. Energy flows both ways in magik. You can pull power from higher realms, but also send power to lower realms. I concentrated to find a lower energy realm and pulled the heat away from the fires. Instantly they went out as if never lit. That was also far too easy for me to do. The trees did not look too damaged. I continued following the scorch mark as it passed by the orchard and into the road, then across the beaten path, over the bank, and into the river. Steam still rose from where the scorch mark entered the water, and three dead fish were floating on the surface.
I looked around in shock; there was nothing but burnt corpses of men and horses littered all around me, cut down in mid-step as though hit by Zeus’s thunderbolt. I could not believe it. I would not believe it. Nothing that I have ever read in the academy scrolls, or had taught to me by the master mages or Malcor, had prepared me for this. As far as I could see, nothing moved. The worst was the sickeningly sweet smell of burnt flesh that filled my nose and lungs. My stomach suddenly turned and, there on the open road, I bent over and retched my guts out. After nothing more came out, I walked away from the burnt remains and sat down in the middle of the road. I was numb to all around me.
After a while, I managed to control my stomach. I just sat there facing a group of burnt bodies for I do not know how long. I could not get it through my head that I had caused this. No one but the gods had this power — and I was no god. Finally, I felt a nudge on my back. I turned and saw a huge horse’s face leaning over me. Next to me, a huge unicorn stood alongside a huge wolf. Both were prodding me gently to get up.
“Are you all right, Alex?” Keros said gently.
“How can I be?” I squealed, still trying to control myself. “Do you see what I have done?”
“Yes,” Keros said.
Lykos leaned over and smelled my robe’s pocket. “You have the Speaking Stone,” he said gently.
“Yes.” I nodded. “I took it with me. I was afraid the barbarians would get it.”
“That is what happened,” Keros said. “Malcor told us that the stone has other powers besides allowing you to talk to us at a great distance. He did some magik with it, but never told us what happened.”
“He never wrote it down, either,” I said. “Perhaps now we know why. This place is already powerful enough to enhance the use of magik. With the stone, a mage can become as powerful as a god. Think what might happen if that power was used by the wrong person.”
“It could destroy this forest and us easily,” Lykos said and then looked at the carnage around us. “We need to clean this up before someone comes this way.”
“Back,” I heard a shout from the hut.
I had forgotten about Philie. I got up quickly and saw two huge boars standing at the edge of the woods. Philie was inside the hut, but I could see the shaft of an arrow showing through the open window.
“Philie!” I yelled out. “Put your bow down. These are my friends. They will not harm you.”
I called out to all my friends. “All of you, get away from the hut. The woman is scared out of her wits, and she may harm you out of fear. Stay close, but do not go near her.”
My animal friends quickly vanished and I walked back to the hut. As I approached the door, she turned to face me and raised her bow toward me.
“Who are you?” she cried out. “You are no mage. No man can do what you just did. No mage has friends like these. Are you some god or shade from Hades?”
“Neither,” I answered. I reached in and pulled out one of my throwing knives. I cut my thumb and out came red blood to drip on the ground. “Gods and shades do not bleed. I am as human as you, and if you allow me, I will explain what you have seen, or at least try as best I can.”
It took the rest of the day to explain it, and it was not easy to do. I had to tell her the entire story of how I had come there and met the kings and queens of the animals, what Malcor had told me, and finally, how I had managed to destroy an entire raiding party with seeming ease. In short, I told her everything that had happened to me there, both past and present. It was dark before I finished.
“These creatures are your friends,” she said. “You can speak to them and they can speak to you?”
“Yes, that I can prove to you if you are willing to meet them,” I told her, but I could tell she did not believe it.
“Meet creatures that would frighten even the Medusa?” she barked. “That can swallow me in one mouthful? Do I look insane to you?”
“Philie, they have always been here, since the day you arrived. In that time, they could have swallowed you anytime they wanted, but they stayed away. The only difference is that now you have seen them, while before, you only thought something was there.”
That seemed to finally resonate with her and she nodded her blond head. “I suppose that is true.”
“If you meet them, you will understand they are not harmful. Look at me; I have lived with them for years. I think nothing of it. They have never hurt me. As long as you do not try to hurt them, they will do the same to you.”
“Then why do they show themselves now?” she wanted to know.
“Because they came to help us with those barbarians,” I said. “Like me, they had no idea I could do what I just did — throwing that large of a fireball. It was a shock to all of us, especially me.”
“Not nearly as much of a shock as it was to those two dozen raiders,” she smiled.
I did not laugh. “They were thirty men and thirty-four horses,” I said. “I counted each one, and I am responsible for all their deaths, except the one you killed with that arrow.”
The Amazon seemed less agitated. She handed me a wooden mug full of water. “You talk as if it was a crime,” Philie said. “They admitted they killed the people of Dysiasty. They made it clear they were going to kill us. You stopped them so they will never kill anyone again. There is no crime here, but there is the justice those of your kind say they seek.”
“I still killed them,” I had to admit.
She looked down at me like a mother who has caught her child in some naughty act. “Well, none of the gods will judge you ill for it, of that I am sure. As for your friends, yes — they could have killed me at any time. There I admit you are right. Very well. I shall meet them if I can control my bowels that long.”
“Well, relieve yourself then,” I said, “and I will call them.”
She went to the outhouse and I called out to my friends. “The woman wants to meet you,” I called out. “Please come to the hut, but stop when you get near.”
Philie came back and slowly the brush cracked under my friends’ approach. She stood watching in stiff silence as they came into view. I could hear her breathing deeply, trying to control herself.
“These are the animal kings and queens of the forest,” I said. “Lykos and Lykina are the names of the wolves, Kypos and Kapria are the boars, Aetos and Aerra are the eagles, Keros and Kerina are the unicorns, and Alkos and Alkina are the red deer.”
She took a deep breath. “Greetings,” she said formally. “I am Philie of the Amazon Antelope Tribe, or was.”
I motioned Lykos and Lykina forward until they were next to us. They were almost twice as tall as Philie, with massive heads and bodies. Philie stood rigidly still, but still afraid. Lykos and Lykina warily approached her first. When they were next to her, she reached out and petted each one on the head like good dogs.
“She has soft hands,” Lykina said.
Philie drew her hand back suddenly as if surprised, her mouth open in amazement. “Did — did you say I had soft hands?” Philie squeaked.
Lykos turned his head quickly and the others stepped forward. “You heard her?” I asked.
“I think so. She spoke to me,” Philie said, still looking at the huge wolves.
“Philie, none of the kings and queens can speak human tongues. They can hear and understand them, but they do not have the body parts to speak. I can hear them only in my mind.”
“I heard her,” Philie insisted.
“Stand away from Lykina,” I told Philie. She stepped back out of contact with the wolves.
I looked at the huge she-wolf. “Speak to her again.”
“I said she had soft hands,” Lykina said.
“Did you hear her that time?” I asked.
Philie shook her head no. “Nothing,” she said.
Lykos came forward and nuzzled gently against her side.
“Philie, rub Lykos’s shoulder,” I told her.
She did again, as if she were petting a favorite dog. “You have soft fur too, Lykos.”
“Thank you, Philie. Your hands are soft,” he answered.
Philie stepped back with both hands on her face. “I heard him,” she said in surprise.
Keros came forward to look at Philie. “Tell her to pet my forehead,” he asked me.
I repeated the request to Philie.
“I like riding horses,” she said, petting his head just below his horn. “I would like to ride you sometime, if you do not mind.”
“I will not mind at all,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said.
Without breaking physical contact with Philie, Keros said, “She is a sensitive. She is like you, Alex, and like Malcor — she can feel with her mind.”
I was dumbstruck. That was a rare gift. Maybe one out of a hundred people can do it. I had felt her before, but thought she had limited power because she did not project her thoughts. That she could talk to my friends meant she could project. Our mage power resides in the ability to project our thoughts and to see things clearly with our minds. That brought up one more point that might be interesting. I took the Speaking Stone out of my pocket. It was still glowing purple.
“Philie, take the Speaking Stone and hold it in your hand,” I said and handed it to her.
She took it and gave me a worried look.
“It will be fine,” I told her. “Now, without speaking the words, greet our friends here.”
She closed her eyes and called out mentally, “I am Philie the Amazon and I greet all of you.”
“Did you all hear her?” I asked my friends. In my head, I heard an immediate chorus of yeses. It was clear Philie could use the stone.
“Now answer her,” I said.
Immediately a chorus of many mental voices came that even I could not understand.
“Stop!” she cried out. “I cannot hear you all at once.”
One by one, they answered Philie, who heard them all. This was as amazing to me as my fireball.
“She is a second-level sensitive,” Keros said.
“Second level?” Philie asked.
I could see I was going to have to explain this to her.
“Philie, maybe one person in a hundred is a sensitive. That means they cannot only see what goes on around them, and they can also feel it in their heads. You told me you could feel my friends from time to time, yet you did not see them. That ability belongs to a first-level sensitive.”
“Like those who can sense danger before others see it?” Philie asked. “I have seen that in my tribe.”
“That is exactly it,” I said. “Now, some people can not only feel what happens around them, but also sense the thoughts of others. They must usually be in contact with them to do this. They are second-level sensitives. Maybe one out of ten sensitives can do that.”
Philie nodded eagerly. “Yes, we have Truth-Seekers among the tribes. Some are born with the ability to know whether people are telling the truth.”
“Yes, they are second-level sensitives and you are one of them. A second-level can also hear the thoughts of other sensitives if they are in contact with them.”
“I never knew I had that power,” she said.
That is why I had never picked up on her power. She hid it out of ignorance. One has to concentrate to use the power, and she did not know she had it.
I continued my explanation. “Now, maybe one out of ten sensitives is a third-level. They can speak using only their minds with other third-level sensitives as long as they are within five to ten stadia of each other. This is what my friends and I can do.”
“Then what is magik?” she asked.
This was going on longer than I wanted. “I will save that explanation for another day. What you need to know now is that the Speaking Stone can allow a second-level sensitive to act as a third-level by focusing the thoughts of the holder more clearly.”
“Yes, the stone does have power,” she said. “I could feel it in my body. Now I know that what you said about casting the fireball is true.”
“Speaking of the fireball,” Keros said, “we still need to get rid of the bodies before someone comes.”
I looked at Kypos and Kapria standing there. “Can you two dig a trench with your snouts in the dirt? We will need to put the bodies there.”
The boars dug a trench quickly. By the rising of the first star, we buried all the remains. This had been a day full of surprises for everyone. I slept like the dead that night.
 
CHAPTER FIVE: INTERROGATIONS

I woke the next morning, feeling refreshed. I heard noises from below me, so I dressed and walked down to the hut. Philie was there, still working on the chair leg. She had it shaped and was finishing it. I walked over and saw she was in the same clothing as the night before. She must have heard me approach.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “Too much is happening too fast to take it all in at once.”
“I understand,” I said and sat down on the work stump. “I slept well, but I feel drained. I think using magik in the forest takes more strength out of you than it normally does.”
“That does not surprise me,” she said with a smile. “I doubt if anything would surprise me about this place, even if the Colossus appeared and asked for breakfast.”
She had a point, but one thing was still bothering me about our incinerated former guests. “I need your advice about something, Philie. You have been a warrior and have fought in battles. All I know of war is what I have read in the scrolls. I never fought anyone and certainly never killed anyone until yesterday.” With that I stopped, the memory and smell still painful.
Philie stopped and put her finishing chisel down. “Go on,” she prodded.
“If you commanded the barbarians that destroyed Dysiasty, what would be your next move?” I felt she might know better than I would.
“It depends on what my goals are,” she said. “If I were only interested in Dysiasty, I would stop, consolidate my forces, seize control of the land, and wait to see what happens. If I were going to use Dysiasty as a forward base, I would send out patrols to see what is in front of me. I think their commander will do the latter, considering what showed up here. If this patrol did not return, then I would send out either a bigger party or a few good scouts to find out what happened to them.”
That made sense to me. “So, what do we do?”
“I do not know. The problem is we do not control the land past the edge of the forest. From the mountains to Dysiasty is an open desert. Whoever took control of Dysiasty would see us coming for days, and he has the forces to look. We, on the other hand, have no forces unless we ask for help from your oligarch friend.”
“We have some forces,” I reminded her.
“True,” she said. “And they should be looking for others approaching the forest from the west. One thing is for sure: with the polis sacked and burned, trading caravans will no longer be coming. Therefore, anyone we see approaching from the west can only be sent by the barbarians. My only question is, do we warn Korpolis?”
I shook my head no. “I thought about that last night while we were burying the remains. I do not see how I can warn them. They will question me about how I know all this, and I do not want to answer those questions.”
“And they will not believe me, either,” Philie said.
“It will have to wait,” I said.
Just then, I heard a horse neigh. I looked up and saw Keros and Kerina leading three horses toward us. Philie shot to her feet. “Gorgos!” she shouted and ran to pet a large white mare. “I thought I had lost you.” She hugged the horse. “What brings you back now?”
“You said you wanted to leave yesterday,” I reminded her. “Well, here is your horse. I said I would not stop you from leaving.”
“So I did,” Philie said, taking a deep breath. She looked back toward her hut. “I just don’t know. Part of me says to leave this place as fast as I can. There are things here I do not understand, and I am not sure I want to. But part of me says to stay here because I will never find a place like this again.”
Philie petted both Keros and Kerina on the sides of their heads. “For now, I will stay; however, all of us must watch the road to the west. We are in danger from there.”
Both Keros and Kerina rubbed against Philie’s side to speak with her. “Yes, Philie, that is a good idea. We will tell the others.”
“Thank you for staying,” Kerina said. “I think you will like it here.”
“I hope so,” Philie answered aloud. Then she turned to me. “Now I have a question for you. I want to know more about this magik you use. What is it?”
She was entitled to an explanation. I sat back down on the stump and crossed my legs. “Do you remember what I told you last night about the levels of sensitives?”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“Well, a mage is a third-level sensitive who has one other ability, and that is to see the other realms that surround our world.”
“Like other vasíleio?” she asked.
“No. There are other worlds or places like ours. Each of these realms is like a whole other world. A mage can concentrate as I am doing now, and before his eyes, other realms will appear, looking much like stars in a night sky. I can see many now. Like stars, some of these realms are brighter than others. These bright realms have more power than this one. A mage cannot see into these realms, but he can touch them and draw power from them. The mage can channel that power within his body and use it to perform tasks at will. There are also dimmer realms at lower levels of power than this one. I can take energy from our realm and transfer it to these lower realms.”
“Like you did with the fireball and the tree fire last night,” she said.
“Correct,” I said. “You just have to remember that, like water, power will only run downhill by itself. Water will never run uphill unless pumped. The mage cannot pump, so he can only allow energy to run from a realm of higher power to one of lower power.”
“What kinds of tasks can you do with this power?” Philie asked.
“Those are what the schools of magik are all about. The first is natural or Nature Magik, which we use to channel the power into forces of nature like wind, fire, light, and force.”
“I understand wind, fire, and light, but what is force?” she asked.
“That is hard to explain. It is like the force that keeps us attached to the ground. We jump up in the air, but we always come back down. That power that pulls us down we can use to move things or push them away from us. We call this force.”
Philie looked puzzled, but motioned for me to go on.
“The second school is Metal Magik. Here, the mage uses the power to heat metal hotter than the hottest forge. In doing so, we can melt iron and instead of beating it into shape, we can heat it so hot that it flows like water into molds. The metal mage also knows ways to harden metal and make it less brittle and can use ingredients to improve the quality of the metal. You have heard of mage steel.”
“Yes,” she said. “My tribal leader had a mage steel sword. It was much lighter and stronger than regular steel.”
I nodded. “That is correct. Besides weapons, a metal mage can also make tools and other things. We can help cast metal into useful objects.”
“And the last school?” she asked.
“That is called Life Magik. It is the most difficult to master. Here the mage can transfer the power into a living body to help it heal itself. This magik user needs to take extreme care, however, not to overload the body and kill the person or animal. It takes a lot of time and a lot of effort. It is the most draining of all magik for the mage.”
“Is it like a physician?” she asked.
“No, a physician uses medicines and other skills to support the body while it heals itself. A life mage directly affects the body, causing it to heal faster. The mage can also repair damage that a physician cannot.”
“Sounds very complicated,” she said.
“It is,” I said in complete agreement. “It takes ten years to learn and understand not only how to use magik, but also how not to use it.”
“Again, too much too fast,” she said. She got up and went to work in the field.
In the next several days, we saw no one use the road. Weeds started to grow on the unused path. I saw no one traveling on it from Korpolis either, but trading only occurred during winter, except in those rare years we had snow on the ground. I even started a calendar by notching a dead branch of wood every morning when I woke up. I had just put the twenty-third notch on the stick when I heard a voice call in my head.
“Alex, someone comes,” I heard Alkos say.
I spoke into the Speaking Stone. “Where and how many?”
“One man, and he is moving in the trees and coming toward you,” the voice said.
“Has he seen you?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Alkos answered as if I should know better. “He also does not know how to move in the forest. He is noisy and stumbles much.”
“Aetos, can you see if there is anyone else on the road?” I asked.
“I will fly,” he told me.
I left the cave and went quickly down the path. Philie was just getting up and going to bathe.
“Hold your bath,” I said. “Our friends have spotted unwanted company coming our way. One person is sneaking poorly through the woods.”
“All right,” she said and left for the hut to get ready. I walked behind one of the burnt apple trees in the orchard. There I waited. For a while nothing happened, and then I heard Alkos call out.
“He is near you; you will hear him shortly,” the big deer said.
I saw Philie walk out of the hut, armed for war. I motioned for her to stay quiet and to hide while I hid behind some of the apple trees. Sure enough, there was a crashing noise like a large animal blundering through the forest. Whoever this person was, he was not a trained spy or scout. A moment later, he emerged from the woods opposite the orchard. He was about half a head taller than I was, wearing a green shirt with a hood and dark brown breeches. He carried nothing except a large backpack and looked surprised that he had stumbled into the open. He looked around, saw the hut, and slowly walked toward it. I waited until his back was to me before I stepped out.
“Greetings,” I called out. “Nice day for a walk.”
The figure spun around and reached into his sleeves. He came out with two short fighting knives and crouched into a fighting stance. I saw the two eyes stare at me from under the hood. He was no woodsman, but he knew how to fight. I had already collected all the power I needed.
“That was the wrong answer,” I said. “Aeras,” I called out and a ball of wind flew out of my left hand and hit him.
The impact pushed him back several podia and he came to rest near the entrance to the hut. He landed on his back and lay still for a moment before slowly sitting up, holding his head in his hands. By then Philie had walked quietly out from behind the hut with her large iron sword and moved carefully behind him. The green man started to get up, but Philie tapped him on the right shoulder with her sword. He turned his head.
“Greetings,” she said with a smile. Then she hit him on the side of the head with the flat of her sword. The green man crashed to the ground again. This time he did not get up.
We stripped him of his clothes except for his loincloth and tied his arms and legs tightly. I searched his belongings and found two fighting knives and three throwing daggers along with a purse with twenty silver drachmae. Philie went through his backpack: ten days of concentrated food like what armies eat on the march, a waterskin half full, two changes of clothes, a map of the area, and a calfskin bag that contained papyrus, ruler, compass, pencils, quadrant, measuring line, and everything else he would need to make detailed drawings. After we laid it all out, I looked at Philie.
“Should we wake Hypnos*?” I asked in jest.
“Cannot have the party without the guest,” she said. She drew a pail of water and threw it in the man’s face.
After sputtering and spitting water, our guest woke up and saw his bonds immediately. He tried to tear them, but could not. He glared at both of us.
“Greetings again,” I said. “Welcome to our humble dwelling. Care to tell us why you are sneaking through our forest like a spy even though we could hear you a stadion away?”
The figure sat tight-lipped, as I expected. I had Philie turn him to face the spread-out contents of his bag, including his measuring and drawing instruments.
Still, nothing came from our captive. I could see I was going to have to shock him.
I grabbed him firmly by the chin. “Look, moros, we can do this in one of two ways. Your choices are to tell us now what you know, or to see the oligarch in Korpolis and let him get it out of you. They do not treat spies well there. The punishment is torture and execution. We know something happened at Dysiasty. You can either tell us or tell the oligarch.”
That seemed to convince him. “I am Mikon of the Salt Traders’ Guild,” he said in a low voice as if someone might be listening.
I nodded my appreciation. “Very well, Mikon, it is always best to start at the beginning. What has happened to Dysiasty? We saw the smoke.”
He started to break down in tears. “The polis was attacked and overrun by the Zilar Horde.”
“Zilar,” I repeated and looked at Philie. She shrugged her shoulders. She had never heard of them either. “What are the Zilar?”
“It is a new tribe that came from the Western Sea,” our prisoner went on. “Their home is the Argos Islands*. They came to the western shore and, after conquering many of the desert tribes, took them into their army until they conquered them all. Then they came for us. They took the polis with large stone throwers and a huge siege tower.”
I had a hard time believing that. The western barbarians did not have the wood or the intelligence to build siege engines. “How did they make these?” I wanted to know.
“I do not know,” Mikon said. “The first we heard of them was when they attacked our desert outposts. They took all three in two days and then came for us. We stocked food and prepared as we have done in the past. Barbarian tribes have never mounted much of a threat to us. We decided to wait them out as we have always done. What came instead were five thousand men and their engines. Their large stone throwers knocked down the south wall and their siege tower went over the west wall. They took the polis easily. They killed the oligarch and his family in the square in front of all the population, along with any guards and their families they could find. Then Zatart, their leader, told us we were slaves and would grow food for their new army or suffer the same fate.”
“Grow food? You mean for the Zilar in the polis?” I asked.
“No,” Mikon said. “We are growing much more food than we need in the polis. We are sowing many fields with grains, but in some fields, we are just growing grass. The Zilar use most of us to build large screw pumps and then operate them. They carry water from the river to the farmlands. The rest work in the fields.”
“Did anyone escape?” Philie asked.
Mikon nodded. “A few escaped, but they were hunted down and slaughtered. Then their heads — men, women, and children — were all displayed in the polis square as a reminder of what would happen if any of us tried the same.”
That confirmed what Aetos had told me. These people were particularly vicious, unusual for the desert barbarians. “I find it hard to believe the barbarian tribes would go along with this. Bandits they always were, but they never went in for mass murder.”
“They do not have a choice either,” Mikon said. “After the Zilar took over each tribe, they took their women and children away and told the men and boys over fifteen that they must fight for Zatart to prevent the slaughter of their families. The desert people want as little to do with the Zilar as we do.”
“How do you know this?” Philie asked.
“There are two thousand barbarians in the polis and only three hundred Zilar troops. The Zilar men are the new polis magistrates and senior army officers. They also operate the siege machines. When they are not around, the desert raiders talk to us. That is how we found out so much about the Zilar. The desert barbarians are not nearly as bad to us as the Zilar troops that treat us like dirt.”
“And what is your mission?” I asked next.
Mikon motioned toward the drawing tools. “I was to draw the fortifications at Korpolis. I was also to find out what happened to a Zilar cavalry patrol that Zatart sent out to scout the road. No one has heard from them again.”
I suppressed a smile. I did not feel nearly so bad now about killing all of them.
“Why did they pick you?” I asked. “You are no scout.”
“The Zilar knew I was a salt trader and knew the way to Korpolis.”
“Two riders travel on the road going away from the forest to the human aerie,” I heard Aetos say.
“Thank you,” I replied silently. “Do not be seen.”
“Please, you have to let me go,” Mikon pleaded.
“And why should we do that?” Philie asked sarcastically.
“My wife and children,” Mikon said, almost in tears. “Zatart told me if I am not back at the polis in fifteen days, he will skin them alive in the polis square.”
I let out a deep breath. I could not let him go, but I did not want the responsibility for his family. However, by the law, that was not my decision.
“That will be up to the oligarch, not us,” I told him.
“No!” he yelled trying to stand up. “You have to let me go, I beg of—”
That was as far as Mikon got before Philie’s large right fist hit his jaw and he went sprawling onto the dirt. Philie looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. “I did not think we would get any more out of him. What are you going to do?”
I remembered Malcor’s old teachings. ‘When faced with a complex problem, try to view it from as many angles as you can. One way of viewing should offer a solution.’ It took me a few moments, but soon an idea popped into my head. It was not the perfect solution, but the best one I could see.
“He has to go to Korpolis, and the law will handle him. We need to tie him to a horse and I will tie his horse to mine. If I leave now, I can get to Korpolis around dark. I will be gone a few days. Meanwhile, you stay here. You know how to talk with our friends. I will leave the Speaking Stone with you.”
“Me — I should take him,” Philie jumped in. “He may overpower you. He will not overpower me.”
“True,” I said, “But you know better than I what the Zilar may do. In fact, you are much better than I to oversee what happens here. Besides, the oligarch knows me.”
Philie thought about it for a second and nodded. “You have a point.”
I called into the forest, “Keros, bring my horses. I have to travel fast and light.”
I went back to my cave and put everything away except the Speaking Stone, which I gave to Philie. I saddled the horses and we securely tied my sleepy friend on the back of one. I tied the reins of his horse to my horse. I took only a waterskin to travel light and shook Mikon awake before we left.
“Look, I am taking you to the oligarch; he will decide what to do with you. Now I know you will try to escape and maybe even try to kill me. Let me show you something. Philie, bring a piece of firewood.”
I was on my horse now. “Look at the firewood,” I told Mikon. With that, I pulled a little energy from around me. “Pyra,” I said, and in an instant, the wood turned to ash.
“That will be you if you try to escape,” I told him and nudged the horse into a trot.
“Good luck,” I heard Philie call out as we left.
Mikon gave me no trouble on our trip. My demonstration must have convinced him. The red sun was just dipping below the Central Mountains when I saw the gate. I was thankful Iolaos was on watch. I rode up and dismounted from my horse.
Iolaos looked at me and my prisoner, wondering what was going on. I quickly explained. To say Iolaos was shocked would be an understatement. He called for some guardsmen, who took my prisoner away. A stable hand took the horses, and Iolaos and I marched toward the palace.
“The Tetrarch Theron is here doing his inspection,” Iolaos told me.
“That will save time,” I said. “We need to get the word out.”
Iolaos led me to the smaller dining room to meet Cleon, Melina, and a man and woman I did not know. They all looked shocked to see me.
I bowed before them. “I beg your forgiveness, but grave news has come to me that you must know about.” I realized I looked dirty, unkempt, short of breath, and hardly in a condition to present myself to royalty. “I also beg your forgiveness for the way I look.”
Cleon shot to his feet and pointed to a servant. “Get this man a chair and a bowl of strong wine,” he ordered.
Before I could protest about the wine, the chair was under me and the bowl was in my hand. Ignoring its strength, I took a long sip. It was particularly refreshing. I went into my story and told them about Philie, the fire, the spy, and his story. I left out the part about my friends and the fact that I had destroyed the scouting party.
“Zeus,” the man who I assumed was the tetrarch called out. “I must tell the archon.”
“It may be more serious,” I said. “You can ask the spy, but it sounds like they are growing a lot of food and fodder near Dysiasty. They will only grow that much food for one reason that I can see.”
“A large army,” Cleon said, shaking his head.
“And you only need a large army for one reason,” I added.
“Barbarian invasion,” the tetrarch spat as if it were a curse. I finished the cup of wine and had to admit I was starting to feel it. “Forgive me, but I must call upon your hospitality for tonight. The rapid journey has exhausted me.”
“Of course,” Cleon said and called to a servant again. “Get this man’s things and take him to a guest room.”
“Forgive me, Oligarch, but to travel light, I have only what is on my back.”
Melina spoke up. “I think we have some things that will fit him,” she said. “He needs food and a bath. Then wash his mage robe.”
“Yes, m’lady,” the servant called out.
“Mage Sopholus, will you discuss this further with us tomorrow?” the tetrarch asked politely.
“I am at the tetrarch’s and the oligarch’s service,” I said with a bow.
“Then rest,” the tetrarch said with a smile. “You have provided us with vital information. For that, you have our thanks.”
I bowed and followed the servants out. They led me to a room where they took my clothes, including my loincloth, and showed me a tub of hot water. I scrubbed myself clean, my first decent bath since the last time I was there. When I was finished, they brought a clean chiton* for me to wear. I felt renewed. I ate a delicious meal of lamb in spices with fresh vegetables and washed it down with well-watered wine. They took me to the same room I had used before, and I lay down on the bed. It was much more comfortable than the straw-covered stone slab in Malcor’s cave.
I was tired but happy. Well after nightfall, I heard a now familiar loud click and, as before, Melina entered the room from the hidden passageway. She was wearing a translucent white robe that left little to the imagination. I moved to the side of my bed and said nothing as she dropped her robe on the floor and lay down next to me. I leaned over and kissed her lips passionately. She responded — but not like before. Instead, she pushed me aside.
“So, tell me about this woman you live with,” she asked. Her voice sounded a little shrill.
“I do not live with her,” I explained. “She lives in the hut, and I live in Malcor’s old cave.”
“That place belongs to you,” Melina told me with a growl. “Why didn’t you tell her to move?”
I suppose I should have expected this to happen, but affairs of the heart are not part of the academy curriculum. “For one thing, she maintained the place while I was gone. She lived there for almost two years, and she kept the place up. She is entitled to something for her efforts.”
“So give her a bag of gold and send her on her way,” Melina said abruptly. Then she looked at me as if searching for some flaw in my story. “That is not the only reason,” she said.
“No,” I said. “The other reason is difficult to explain.”
“We have all night,” Melina countered.
I resigned myself to the inevitable. “Do you remember how Malcor always used to teach us that powerful forces protect that forest?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “I always thought it was to scare us away from playing in the forest as children.”
“Well, Malcor was right,” I told her. “People who go into the deep forest have a habit of not returning, and there is a reason.”
“You mean it is not an old wives’ tale?” she asked.
“No, it is not. Some still disappear without a trace in that forest. There are forces there, forces that Malcor made allies of. That is why they allowed him to live among them. Malcor taught me, and I made peace with them. These forces want to be left alone, yet they allowed Philie to stay there for two years and did nothing. That has not happened before and has made me think. If these forces accepted her, it was for a reason, and until I know what that reason is, I am not throwing her out.”
That was stretching the truth about as far as I could go without violating the Mage Code.
“Humph,” Melina grunted. “Is there no other reason?”
“No,” I said flatly. “Melina, Philie is twice as big as you. In fact, she is as large as your father was when we were young. She is an excellent warrior, but as a lover, I would not know how to begin with her. She has shown no real interest in me, that is for sure.”
“Very well,” Melina said in a soft voice. “Well, here is one woman you should know how to begin with.”
Indeed, it was a nice way to begin. The ending was not bad either.
 
CHAPTER SIX: DECEPTIONS

The next morning, I woke up alone and found my clean mage robe outside my room along with a complete change of clothes. I washed myself and then had the house servant trim my hair so I looked presentable. After I dressed, I found Cleon, Melina, the tetrarch, and his wife in the small dining hall. I joined them for a light meal and after some unimportant small talk, we finished. The women left to pursue other entertainment while the men went to the meeting hall.
We entered the room to find an elderly man. He was dressed nicely in a long robe and wore a chain of office. I noticed he was missing an eye and had several scars on his arms, all consistent with battle wounds. He bowed as we entered. He was standing with Iolaos, who was also dressed in formal attire.
“This is Tros, my polemarch*,” the tetrarch told me.
I bowed slightly out of respect, and Tros returned my gesture. With the formalities over, the tetrarch took his place at a table with maps of Korpolis and spoke to his polemarch.
“Have you questioned the prisoner?” the tetrarch asked.
“Yes, Tetrarch,” the old man said. “Both Guard Commander Iolaos and I questioned him last night.”
“Did he cooperate?” Cleon asked.
“Yes,” Iolaos said. “He fully cooperated with us. It was not necessary to use torture on him.”
I said silent thanks for that. I wanted to try to make things better for Mikon, so I asked, “Were you able to confirm his story that he was acting under duress?”
“Yes, Mage Sopholus,” Tros said. “He had no wish to act as a spy, except to save his family. His story is consistent with this fact.”
“What are your conclusions?” the tetrarch asked.
“That Mage Sopholus is correct in his assumptions,” Tros said calmly. “This Zilar tribe is an advanced barbarian tribe, previously unknown to us, from the Argos Islands off the western shore of Argina. We know little of that area from any chronicles of the past. The library at either the ethnarch’s capital in Arginnia* or the Great Library at the Temple of Athena on Lantia may hold more information, and we suggest sending a request to both for further details.”
“That will be a decision for the archon,” the tetrarch interrupted. “I will send a request to him. The last thing we need is more damn barbarians.”
Tros went on. “We also believe they are preparing a large army for an invasion of the western lands. More than likely, that army will come here.”
“Are we sure of that?” the tetrarch asked. He did not look convinced.
“Tetrarch, that is true,” I added. “There is no pass crossing the Central Mountains that any force could use within ten days’ ride to the south, or five days’ ride to the north. Other than here, there is no path through the mountains that a large army could use. Especially an army with equipment and a baggage train. Away from the river, the land is dry, mostly barren, and hostile to troop movements. If a large army comes, it must come through here — although I would recommend watching both the north and south passes. Small forces could go through them, I am told.”
They all looked at each other and Tros went over to look at the survey maps on the table. Finally, he spoke. “I find nothing wrong with Mage Sopholus’s logic.”
Tros went on. “There is really only one remaining question after talking to the prisoner: what happened to this so-called cavalry scouting force? We have no details of it, but it should have been able to penetrate the Forest of Allund. Both Iolaos and I were wondering if Mage Sopholus could offer an answer?”
That question I knew would be coming and I did not want to answer with the complete truth, so I decided to be vague. “I believe I do know what happened to them. I think they came into the forest looking for trouble, and they found it.”
“How so, Alex?” Cleon asked.
“We know from our own chronicles that, in many cases, people have gone exploring in the deep forest and never been heard of again. Yet, at the same time, we also know merchants have used the Salt Road for many years without harm. Malcor and the Amazon Philie both lived in the forest without problems. The forces that protect the forest seem well aware of who is in their domain and whether they are there for good purposes or for evil. They are ready to act on those who are there for evil. This troop of Zilar met those forces and, like so many others, vanished without a trace.”
“Exactly what are these forces?” Tros asked bluntly.
I took a deep breath. I knew it might come to this. Here I could use the truth. “When I went to live with Malcor after my parents died of the plague, I had to swear I would never reveal what I had learned about what goes on in that forest. This I did, so I cannot give you exact details. What I will tell you is that the old travelers’ tales about the legendary Old Ones and other beings of that forest are not complete myths.”
All of them turned to look at me in shock. The Old Ones were a myth from the Time of Myths long ago. They told about those who lived in this world before man. Only a few men had seen them, and fewer still had lived to tell the tale.
“The Old Ones,” Cleon said. “You and Malcor never mentioned them before.”
“Because of the oath we had to take,” I said. “I ask you not to repeat what I have just told you. I can say no more about them.”
“Oh, Zeus,” the tetrarch muttered. “Mage Sopholus, can we use them as allies?”
“That, I do not know. What I do know is that they treasure their privacy and will act against those who violate it or attempt to hurt them.”
“And you think this Zilar scouting party tried to do that?” Tros asked.
“Let me say it is possible,” I added. “That is, unless you believe a mage and a single Amazon can destroy a full scouting party by themselves.”
That elicited a laugh from the tetrarch and Polemarch Tros, who I am sure knew better. As Master Mage Instructor Philocrates had once told me at the academy, “the best place to hide a deception is in the truth.”
“So, what do we do with our spy?” Iolaos asked.
“We should not kill him,” I said. “He did cooperate with us.”
“We can’t let him go, either,” Cleon said. “It would be like inviting the Trojan Horse into the polis.”
I started thinking about something else: what about performing another deception? I heard the others argue in the background when the idea hit me.
“Actually, I think we should let Mikon go,” I said.
The conversation suddenly stopped and all four men looked at me as if I had lost my senses. I continued. “Not only that, but we should make sure he has the drawings of all the fortifications. Those drawings will outline our defenses exactly the way we want the Zilar to know about them.”
There was a moment’s delay, and then Tros broke out into a hearty laugh. “Yes,” he said. “The Trojan Horse in reverse. The Zilar would never know the difference.”
The others finally caught on and started to laugh. “Mage Sopholus, you would make a fine polemarch,” Tros told me.
Over the next two days, both Tros and Iolaos advised Mikon as he made several drawings of the walls and town. Most of them were true, but a few of the fortifications appeared larger than they really were. Mikon also did not draw certain items that would deter an invading army. At my suggestion, he drew only from known locations so anyone in Dysiasty who knew Korpolis could verify his positions. Mikon eagerly cooperated because it was his only chance to save his family and himself. I spent most of the days in the local library, looking for any reference to the Zilar. There was none.
At night, we ate simple fare in the dining hall. I went back to taking my wine well-watered. There were no state banquets. The late nights I spent with Melina, who seemed to have forgotten all about Philie as her name never came up. In fact, few things came up when we slept together. Overall, it was the most enjoyment out of life I had had in ages.
After three days of drawing, Mikon was ready to go. The next morning, he would leave. I suggested he walk along the road so he would get dirty in such a way that helped the Zilar believe his story. I was not sure how wise the Zilar were or how much they really knew about Korpolis, but I did not want to take chances. I was getting ready for our last meal together when Cleon came into my room.
“Alex, come walk with me,” he asked.
I followed Cleon to the far end of the palace, to a room I remembered had been his father’s study when I was a boy. Once inside, he closed the door and looked around to make sure we were alone.
“Alex, I want to ask you exactly what your feelings are toward my sister,” he asked bluntly.
I knew Cleon was aware of our nightly meetings, so I also answered candidly. “She is a beautiful woman. She is kind and smart, knows what she is doing, and is a good host.”
“She also likes you very much, and I mean I know exactly how much she likes you,” he said, putting his arm on my shoulder. “My sister and I never hide secrets from each other.”
“That is private,” I said firmly. “An honorable man never discusses his relationships with women, especially a physical relationship — other than to say I never coerced your sister into anything. Everything we have done was done under our own free will.”
Cleon nodded in agreement. “That I know, or I would have cut off your balls myself,” he said. “I know my sister has little to no attraction to the men around Korpolis. Few men here interest her. Most are older and already married. My father and I never wanted to force her into another marriage after her husband died. You, however, she liked when we were children, and seeing you again has brought back memories. Let me say, I do not mind your sleeping together. She has damn few other outlets for her affections. I just want to know what you feel.”
“I like her very much,” I said honestly. “If I were of royal rank, I might ask you for her hand, but we both know I am not. If we can only see each other occasionally, so be it.” Then I changed the subject. “It is you that we should worry about. You need to marry. This polis needs an heir for your magistrate’s seat.”
“Ahh,” Cleon moaned. “I know that. That very thing was part of the tetrarch’s visit. I have agreed to marry his middle daughter in the spring. She is a nice-looking girl, but she was not educated like Melina and I were.”
I knew that. Many men treat their cattle better than their women. Many fathers still feel that all a daughter needs to know is how to spin, how to cook food, how to look pretty, and how to lie on her back to please her husband. Illiteracy among girls was still more than half, which was appalling. Brains run in both sexes. There were even two female mage students at the academy.
I held out my hand and Cleon eagerly took it. “I congratulate you on your marriage.”
“And I thank you for bringing this matter to my attention,” he said, smiling. “I just hope we do not have to face that army alone.”
“I can tell you, you will face it with all the help this mage can bring,” I told him sincerely. “Whether my help is worth much or not, I do not know.”
“I think it is worth a lot,” Cleon said, and went to open the large doors.
I left the next morning, alone. I was certain no one had seen us approach the polis, and I did not want to take a chance someone would see us leave together. Mikon left after me and I rode back to my place. While I was in town, I bought several skins of very strong wine. With water, they would last for several days. I also bought some prepared meats. I arrived home in the mid-afternoon. Philie was there and looked surprised.
“You did make it,” she said. I was a bit annoyed she thought I could not handle one person, but said nothing.
I sat down with her and we had an evening meal of the prepared meat and some onions from the garden. I washed my meal down with straight water, having drunk wine the last few days. Philie took the wine straight, but only two cups. Over dinner, I told her what had happened, minus the part with Melina.
“You think this ploy with Mikon will work?” Philie asked.
“Not over the long run,” I said, “but hopefully long enough to confuse this Zatart.”
“What now?” she asked me.
“We wait and stall and hope we can keep the Zilar army where they are for a while, at least until we can gather the army from the entire vasíleio. Then we force the Zilar back and retake the polis.”
“Those are all big ifs,” Philie said. “I also do not like giving the Zilar a chance to take the initiative.”
“No choice,” I told her. “We do not have the forces or supplies to march on Dysiasty anytime soon. I do not like letting my enemy dictate the rules of the game, but for now, I do not know what else to do.”
That last part was the truth. I knew I was asking for trouble by waiting. I thought back to what had happened over the past few days and another idea came to mind. I knew Malcor had spoken to the Old Ones from time to time. Although I had seen them, I had never talked to them. Perhaps it was time. I talked my plan over with Philie, who was surprisingly receptive.
“It is good to have allies, especially allies the enemy knows nothing about,” she said. “Will you go alone?”
“This time, yes,” I said. “I know the Old Ones have seen me before. They have not seen you, and the stories about people disappearing without a trace are true. I do not know how they will act toward a stranger. I will also take Keros and Kerina. They know the Old Ones, and they helped Malcor talk to them in the past.”
Philie sat down and rubbed her chin with her right hand. “What you say is risky, but then all fighting is risky. You will leave the others with me in case the Zilar come back?”
“Yes. I will go talk to our friends now,” I said and left.
Most of my friends were not enthusiastic about my seeing the Old Ones. They were as much afraid of them as I was, and they had known them much longer than I had. Keros and Kerina were eager to show me the way. The only objection came from Alkos, who felt he should go along as a good fighter. I was only able to persuade him after I told him I needed my better fighters here to help Philie take care of any Zilar that came. Therefore, I would like him to stay. That satisfied his ego, and he and Alkina agreed to stay. The big deer is not the better fighter, but there was already enough trouble going on. Another deception on my part, but a small one, I hoped.
Keros and Kerina led me through the thickest part of the forest. Soon it was almost black under the solidly interlocking canopies of the trees. Before long, I realized that despite my years in the forest, I was hopelessly lost. The ground started to rise since we were approaching the leading southward edge of the central range. The forest was quiet; I heard no animals moving about and few birds singing above me in the leaves. I felt alone and strangely vulnerable. Halfway up the hill, we came to what I thought was a rockslide, a pile of huge stones. When I looked closer, I could see someone had placed these stones on top of one another.
“Here is where we stop,” Keros said. “This is where Malcor always met them. Light a small fire, Alex, and they will come tonight.”
I cleared an area of leaves and gathered some dead wood. A little simple magik and I had a fire going. I had brought a waterskin and some prepared meat for my food. Both Keros and Kerina found their own food. I sat down to wait. Night came early and suddenly in the deep forest. One moment I could see around me, and the next, all I could see was what showed in the flickering light of the fire. I sat and made small talk as best I could with the two unicorns. I could not see the sky or any of the 342 stars above me, and before long, I nodded off.
“Alex, wake up. They are here,” Kerina called to me.
I opened my eyes and saw nothing. With so little light, I could only see a few feet in front of me. I saw nothing either standing or moving. I stood up and called out.
“I am Alexio Sopholus, the mage. I have come back to take Malcor’s place. You all know me. I have come in peace to speak with you.”
“Peace,” a deep voice called in my head. “There is little peace among your kind.”
I saw something move in the darkness. It was big. It stood about three times taller than I did and much broader. It was human-shaped, but did not move like a human. It seemed to lumber like a great beast. It stood there, seemingly alone.
“We know you, Alexio Sopholus,” the voice went on. “Malcor said you would return to take his place.”
“May I ask your name?” I said. “I never learned any of your names before.”
The voice kept on, constant in tone. “We have no names as you have. We are here like the mountains. We grow like the forest. We move like the wind. Malcor called us the Old Ones because we were here before you came to this world. We just are.”
Well, obviously they were not going to kill me outright, so on to the business at hand. “I have come to speak with you, to warn you of a danger. Evil men have taken control of the polis to the west. We think they may try to march a large army through the forest.”
“We know of this from the wind. We have seen it in the sky. Many will come and maybe destroy the forest. Maybe destroy all in this land.”
“They may come here,” I added.
“They will not come here, and this is not why you have come,” the voice said.
I was wondering if they could read my mind. There was no sense in trying to deny it. “You are correct. I wish to know if your kind will help us if they come into the forest.”
“They are your kind,” the voice rumbled. “They come for you; they do not come for us. We will not act unless they come here or try to destroy the forest. We do not interfere with your kind, and we will not allow your kind to interfere with us.”
That was unfortunate, but not unexpected. They had not interfered in all the ages of man. I could hardly expect them to start now. “Very well. I understand and accept your decision.”
“We will tell you this. Many from the western polis have come out with wagons filled with water and food. They are setting up a camp near the mountains north of here. They have left a few in these camps.”
“They are setting up a base camp in the desert?” I asked. “Why would they do that?”
“Your kind requires much food and water to live when they move.”
I thought I detected a trace of impatience in the voice now. “Thank you for the information,” I said with a slight bow. “I will see it gets to the correct people. You have been very kind. I will leave you in peace.”
“We have questions of you!” the voice boomed.
That took me back. Even Keros and Kerina got to their feet. I hesitated for a moment and then answered, “Very well. Ask what you will.”
The figure stepped forward into the light. I could now make out its gravel-like skin and its headless body. I gaped at its heavy arms and legs. It was like a moving boulder. Its huge bulk rested on two tree-trunk legs with two arms as thick as the heaviest branches, yet it looked humanlike. The figure towered over all of us. I doubted Atlas could match this one in strength.
“The woman at your hut, she knows about us?”
They knew about Philie, but how? “The woman only knows what other men know of you. They have stories of you, but Malcor and I never told them anything about you. The woman, whose name is Philie, knows of my friends in the forest.”
“We have watched her,” the loud voice continued. “We know she can feel us. We can feel her.”
I wondered if that was a good thing or bad. There was one way to find out. “Philie has asked me whether, if I come to see you again, you would allow her to come with me.”
The voice seemed to calm a bit. “We will allow her to come. We feel no danger in her. We also know she can speak with the others and can use the Speaking Stone we gave Malcor.”
Now, that was something I did not know. “You gave Malcor the Speaking Stone?”
“Yes, we gave it to him to help protect the forest. He told us he would give it to you, but he passed before he could tell you of its true power.”
I swallowed hard. “I have already learned of some of its power.”
“We know. We can feel when you use it,” the voice added.
“I did not know what it could do,” I tried to explain. “I acted only to protect myself and Philie. I did not know what would happen.”
“Now you know,” the voice added. “You know that, here in the forest, your power is greater. With the Speaking Stone, your power can increase many times. You must use it with care. It has the power to do much good and much harm. This time you used the stone to protect, not to harm.”
“Tell that to the riders I killed,” I mumbled.
The figure bent over slightly to bring its faceless torso closer. “That was their doing, not yours. Your kind can act with the greatest wisdom or the greatest folly. None of us has power over that choice.”
There was only one more question to ask. “Is there anything you can tell me about how to defeat the Zilar? I am afraid they might try to upset the world if we let them.”
The figure stood up and started to walk away. “We will not interfere with your petty conflicts. We will only tell you the power you seek lies in earth and water.”
With that, the large figure vanished as quickly and silently as it had come. We were suddenly alone. I turned to my two friends. “Do you know what he meant when he said earth and water?”
“No, Alex, I have no idea what he meant,” Keros said.
“I am pleased with what he said about Philie. I think it shows she belongs here,” Kerina added.
“Yes, but why?” I said. “That is always the problem when consulting oracles or the gods; they always leave you with more questions than answers.”
The next morning, we went back to my hut and I told Philie all about my conversation with the Old Ones. While happy the Old Ones had accepted her, she was not happy when I told her what they had said about the Zilar setting up a supply base.
“You do not set up supply stores unless you plan to use them. It seems the Zilar want to move north across the barren wasteland, and they are making provisions to do so.”
“But why?” I asked. “Why do they want to conquer barren desert? It is of no value.”
“They do not,” Philie said. “They want to move through it for a reason. Now, what is to the north they might be interested in?”
I thought about that for a while, trying to remember the books I had read on geography. “There is nothing until you get to the coast, two hundred milio* away. The only way through the mountains is North Pass.”
“Where does that lead?” Philie asked.
“It comes out near an old mining town named Midas, after the king of the old myths. The mines played out years ago. There is hardly anyone there now. Everything I ever read said it is a narrow pass, maybe one or two men across. An army of ten thousand can’t go through that.”
“They do not need ten thousand,” Philie said with a smile. “If they send a few hundred or a thousand, they are coming down behind us. They could swarm all over the land while everyone is here, waiting for the main attack.”
“So, this attack from Dysiasty is a diversion?” I asked.
Philie smiled at my ignorance this time. “Oh no, it is real, but after this attack, the other force will destroy the crops and supplies behind us. That will put us in a much worse position to defend here. I am beginning to understand this Zilar plan, and it is brilliant.”
I was beginning to think I might need to make another trip to Korpolis.
 
CHAPTER SEVEN: VISITORS

I made a fast ride to Korpolis the next morning and let Cleon know what else I had learned. He told me he would send the message on to the tetrarch and the archon. They gave me a fresh horse and I was back in Malcor’s cave by nightfall. At this point, I simply did not know what else to do. Philie was right; letting one’s enemy dictate the battle was foolish at best. The simple fact was, to take any action against the Zilar, I would have to leave the forest. Once we were out in the desert, the Zilar would have all the advantages. Magik was powerful, but I could not use that power effectively in the wide-open desert. Out there, I could be attacked from many different directions by hundreds of soldiers simultaneously. Even magik cannot counter that.
I even thought about attacking the supply bases the Zilar had set up, but that would require me to move through the desert on my own. I would also be open to attack at any time - not to mention the challenge of finding enough food and water to stay alive. I ruled out trying to go through the mountains as that would be almost impossible for someone of my slight build and strength. I felt trapped in a situation I could not control, playing with forces I could not manipulate. It was not a pleasant feeling.
This continued for several days. I helped Philie with the fields. I noticed the rice beginning to grow and the wheat showing new shoots. I replanted some vegetation in the medicinal herb garden. In my spare time, I continued to read Malcor’s scrolls. My friends went their separate ways, too. Malcor told me they all have important work to do. They are the kings and queens of the forest for a reason. Each of them is responsible for certain animals that fall under their influence. Like every other part of nature, these animals are in conflict with each other. Most animals eat plants and grass for their food, and then the meat eaters eat them. In this way, nature keeps in balance. It is no different here.
I put the thirty-second notch on my calendar stick. I was out with Philie, weeding the fields, when I heard Aetos call me.
“Many men come on horses to the forest. There are many more than before.”
“How far away are they?” I asked.
“They will arrive by nightfall,” Aetos squawked.
I stood up and spoke out loud, calling to my friends. “Many men come. Would you please watch them and tell me what they do?”
Philie heard me talk and stopped weeding the wheat field. She moved quickly toward her hut. My mind filled with a mixed chorus of voices telling me that my friends would watch them. I went back to the cave to get my things, including the Speaking Stone. For that many, I would need its power if they came to attack us.
We waited. I saw both Kypos and Kapria run through the open space, followed quickly by Lykos and Lykina. The others moved quietly toward the end of the forest. Sometime later, I heard Kypos.
“Men stop and set up camp for everyone. They get wood and make a big fire; many men walk around the camp. No one comes into the forest.”
I told Philie, who looked at the fading light. I handed her the Speaking Stone and she told us, “They are waiting for daylight so they can see. Watch what they do then.”
I spent a mostly sleepless night in the forest with Philie. We talked about what we could do. I could use the Speaking Stone on them as I had the others, but I did not want to. Others could decide if these invaders should live or die, but I did not want it to be me. I would not use it again unless given no other choice. I still believed men should not wield this type of power, least of all me.
The red disk of the sun had just come up to the east when I heard Lykos call out. “Two men are riding horses down the road.”
“Two men?” I asked, wanting to make sure.
“Only two men come to the forest. The others are sitting together near the forest edge,” Lykos said.
I told Philie, who shrugged. “I think it is someone who wants to talk,” she said. “No doubt he is looking to get information about what is happening here.”
“Then he will be expecting to see me,” I realized. Two could play that game. “I suggest you go hide in the orchard where you can see the road. Cover me if necessary.”
Philie nodded and took out her bow. I concentrated again. “One of you follow the men on the horses. The others watch the other men. Say something if they move.”
“I will follow,” Lykos said.
“I will watch the other men,” Kypos added.
“I will watch the men from the other side of the river,” Alkos said.
There was nothing more I could do except wait for my guests. I sat down under a cherry tree that was ripening with fruit. I loved the smell. It was not long before I saw two figures moving at a slow trot along the road. One was ahead of the other, carrying a banner of some sort. The second rider was on a beautiful white horse. I watched them approach. I decided since our visitors knew little about this place, I would act mysterious and in charge. I wanted to get information from them and give little or no information back.
The riders came toward me, watching carefully about them. Neither saw me until they were approximately sixty podia away. Neither of them had sharp eyes. As they came closer, I saw the one on the white horse had a bow, quiver, sword, dagger, and lance. Like the others, his uniform was a pale-yellow tunic and breeches. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, and around his neck hung a large gold medallion. The other rider was in a more subdued uniform and on a normal desert pony. He carried only a sword and the banner that could double as a lance.
As they drew to within fifty podia, I stood. They both stopped, lowered their lances, and eyed me carefully.
“I mean you no harm, and I ask you to please raise your lances,” I called out.
Both riders stopped their horses and stuck the wooden ends of the lance and staff into the dirt. “Satisfied?” the rider in the back called out. It was a strange accent. Not from any of the nations I knew.
I walked until I was ten podia away, stopped, and folded my arms. “I am Alexio Sopholus, the mage and protector of this place.”
The trooper with the banner came forward. It was then I saw the banner clearly. It was a pure golden color with a picture of how our world is thought to look. He stopped near me, then sat bolt upright on his horse and called out as if announcing a high noble. “All hail Zatart, Commander of the Holy Army of the East, Admiral of the High Seas, and first son of the blessed and divine god-leader Zilar, who is lord of all the earth and seas.”
God-leader — now, that was an unusual title. I am used to the ethnarchs claiming divinity, especially after they are dead. It helps in ruling the people. It makes the populace think if they disobey the rulers, they will also be disobeying the gods. But it all made utter nonsense to me.
I bowed slightly. “I am only the mage and caretaker of this forest,” I said loud enough to be heard by his holiness. “I am honored that the leader of the army has deemed fit to visit me in my humble abode. What can I do for you?”
“You will allow my army to pass here in peace,” the rear rider called out to me. “You also can get whoever is following us to leave us alone. I know he is big and quiet, but I do not like being followed by strange persons.”
I smiled and called out directly to the leader, “I assure you, it is no person or persons that follow you. You would be terribly upset if I told you exactly what it was.”
“More of the mysterious forces that protect this forest,” he grunted. “It is like the kalac I read in the polis chronicles I recovered in Dysiasty,” he said, still looking around nervously.
I did not know that word, but I assumed it was not a compliment. “There are many things that protect this forest from harm. People who come into this forest looking for trouble will find more than they bargained for.”
“Like my missing scouting party?” he asked.
“Like anyone who is looking to do violence,” I replied. “Your men came looking for violence, and they found it. There was not much left when these forces finished with them.”
Zatart rode up toward me, which surprised his companion. When he drew near, he looked at me as if I were some snake he saw on the ground. “I see,” Zatart said. “So you are master here.”
“No, I am the caretaker here,” I corrected. “I live in the forest, and I tend to its needs. I see what it sees and know what it knows.”
“And you see all,” he sneered.
I sneered back. “Yes, including about the spy you sent through here to Korpolis, the depot you are setting up to invade through North Pass, and the hundred or so troops you have camped just outside the forest. You know invading through the North Pass is a bad idea. I am surprised the desert tribes you enslaved did not tell you what happened the last time someone did it.”
“My spy never told me he saw you,” he grumbled, more concerned about the spy than anything else.
“He did not see me,” I lied. “People see me only when I want to be seen.”
“Do tell,” he said. “What is wrong with the North Pass?”
I was starting to get to him. “A desert tribe tried that a long time ago. There was another caretaker then. The forces that protect this forest also protect the two passes. All the desert raiders that entered the pass died. Why do you think no one ever uses them? It is not just the barren desert and lack of food and water. As for what these forces are, I am not going to make your invasion easy for you. You are not the first to invade from the west, just the latest. You should consult the chronicles about that, too.”
Zatart shot upright in his saddle. “Impudent mage!” he yelled. “I should run my lance through you. I will have an army of six thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry. I have stone throwers that can burn this forest to a cinder, all of it at my command. I will burn this forest to the ground and then reduce your poleis to ashes. All will fall before me. Then my father will take his rightful place as god and leader to all the slaves in Argina. And it will take more than words cloaked in an enigma to stop me. Words do not scare me.”
Well, he was certainly ambitious. I forced myself into a sly smile and told him, “You are correct, my lord Zatart; words are all you hear. If you are not very careful, words may be the last thing you ever hear. There is much more than words protecting this place. If you doubt my words, you and your man may lower your lance and charge me.”
Now I would see how smart this person was. I had already started pulling energy from the upper realms. It did not take much this time. I was not going to scorch the ground for a hundred paces down the road. I was just going to knock both their arrogant asses out of their saddles. Zatart started to lower his lance and the herald lowered his banner. I did not move a muscle. I did not have to. Both studied me carefully again and then slowly raised their lances.
“You are not afraid of me,” Zatart said, nodding his head. “That is foolish. All should fear the Zilar. We are masters of this world.”
I tried to suppress a laugh. “How can you be masters of the world when I doubt you are masters of yourselves? Any mage can tell you that. What you see around you is not like ancient stone walls you can knock down or go over. What you see here is not something you can even harm. Others have learned that the hard way. As I said before, you are merely the latest. If you were wise, you would go back to your homeland and leave the desert people alone. They made their own way long before you came and will make their own way long after you leave.”
“More words,” he said. His voice was now rising. “Will you let my army pass, or shall I skin you alive for my amusement?”
I shrugged indifferently. “You will do what you want. I care not. If you come here looking for violence, you will find it, starting with yourself and the hundred men you have camped on the outskirts of the forest.”
That got him. He sat glared at me from his saddle and gritted his teeth. “I will see you in Hades first,” he said sharply and turned his horse about.
“You will get there well before me,” I added. “I would also take those hundred men with you back to Dysiasty before they find out what happened to the other thirty. Goodbye, Lord Zatart. I hope you have a pleasant journey.”
With that, he rode off at a trot. I watched him go. “Lykos, follow him back. The rest of you, watch the men at the edge of the forest. If any of them start to move into the forest, let me know.”
I waited on the road, watching the riders vanish down the narrow lane. Philie came through the orchard and stood next to me.
“You got him angry enough, that is for sure,” she said with concern.
“I tried to come on more mysterious than powerful,” I explained. “I wanted to sow doubt in his mind, make him second-guess himself and be overly cautious. I think I did that. He, in turn, tried to impress me with his army, and it is impressive but not overwhelming. I will now see if he believed me.”
“How?” she asked.
“If Zatart believed me, or if I at least cast doubt in his mind, he will take his men, ride back to Dysiasty, and return when he thinks he has the advantage. If he did not believe me, he will attack with those hundred men and try to kill us. I almost wish he would attack now.”
“Why? I thought you did not want to use the magik,” Philie said, looking at me oddly.
“I do not,” I said emphatically. “However, if they force me, I am fairly sure we can take care of one hundred riders. I am not so sure we can take care of several thousand troops equipped with siege engines.”
As it turned out, they all went home in a hurry.
I wrote down everything Zatart had told me, and we went on with tending our fields. I would tell Cleon what happened when I went to town on market day to buy some things I needed. Two days before that, one rider did approach from the east. Because we were all looking the other way, he was almost upon us before Alkina spotted him. Philie and I went out to meet him on the road, which was now slowly disappearing under the overgrown brush. As I expected, he wore the uniform of the Korpolis Polis Guard. He got off his horse, approached us, and bowed.
“Mage Sopholus, Warrior Philie,” he said. “Oligarch Cleon wishes you to attend a meeting in Korpolis the day after tomorrow. Lycus, grandson of Leodes the Archon of Erinus*, arrives tomorrow to discuss the problems in the west.”
That struck me as strange; I knew the person coming was little more than a boy. “Why is his grandson coming and not the archon or his son?”
“The archon’s son died last summer in a hunting accident,” the rider reported. “The archon declared Lycus the new heir. The archon himself is old and does not travel much anymore.”
That I had not heard. “Very well. You may tell the oligarch that I will be there.”
“As will I,” Philie added quickly.
“Oligarch Cleon has told me to express his thanks to both of you,” the rider said. He mounted his horse and rode back toward Korpolis. No doubt he did not want to travel in the forest after dark. A wise man, I thought.
Both Philie and I presented ourselves two days later at the front polis gate. As expected, Iolaos was at the gate, regulating traffic in and out of the polis. He helped me down but was especially helpful to Philie, who did not need it. Philie and Iolaos were almost the same height and close to the same build. Iolaos escorted both of us to the palace. Melina met us there.
“Greetings,” she said. She smiled at me — and smiled less so at Philie. “Cleon, the tetrarch, and the archon’s representative are in a room discussing strategy. The archon’s grandson wanted no interruptions. They are having a private dinner tonight; no one else is invited. Not even the archon’s staff is allowed in.”
“That is odd,” I said. “Who came with the boy?”
Melina’s face instantly turned sour. “Gods, do not call him that,” she said, looking up. “He thinks he is a grown man. The only people he brought with him are a dozen of his grandfather’s best troops and his mage. The mage told me the only reason he came is that the grandfather insisted. Even the archon’s polemarch is back in Erinia* with the archon.”
“I do not like this,” Philie grumbled.
“Nor does anyone else,” Iolaos said out of the corner of his mouth.
“We will have a private dinner while our archon’s grandson discusses matters with my brother and the tetrarch,” Melina said and then motioned for the head servant to come over. “Show Mage Sopholus to his usual room and show Warrior Philie to her room,” she commanded. “See that they are provided for and given suitable clothing for dinner.”
“Yes, m’lady.” The servants led us off in our separate ways.
Bathed, clothed, and looking much better, we all assembled in the smaller family dining room after dark. The tetrarch, the archon, and Cleon were still discussing state business. Philie and I were on separate couches. Melina was on the head couch, Iolaos was in uniform on the couch to her left, and the mage was last to arrive. I remembered he had visited the academy a few years ago, and I tried recalling his name with no luck. Melina saw me struggling and introduced us.
“Mage Sopholus, this is Mage Maleos, in service to the archon of Erinus.”
“Greetings,” I said, rising from my couch and making the proper bow. Mage Maleos replied in kind before reclining as I did.
“I seldom get to meet a graduate of the academy with a first-rank diploma in all three schools,” Maleos said. “Malcor said you were highly intelligent.”
That surprised and angered me. The academy does not give out graduation status unless requested for reasons of state. Maleos must have seen my concern.
“As Senior Mage to the archon, I provide him with reports on all mages who settle in this eparchia*. I must say I found your report very interesting. Especially the metal magik you performed on iron.”
I swallowed hard. I did not like having my background bantered around like this. I smiled. “I am grateful to the senior mage, but I must give the credit for my success to my fine instructors at the academy and to Malcor.”
Following a dinner of lamb, beans, and cheese, the conversation degenerated into small talk. Both Maleos and I took our wine well-watered, as did Melina. Iolaos and Philie took it almost straight. After the servants took all the trays away, Maleos spoke up.
“My lady Melina, that was an excellent meal,” he said, straightening himself on his couch. He leaned forward and quieted his voice. “As part of my duties to the archon, I also make a report of our business here. I am aware that sometimes, because of the youth of the archon’s grandson, that business can confuse him, so I try to fill in the items that need more clarity. To that end, I would like to question Mage Sopholus more about this incident with this new group, the Zilar. I would like to speak with him in private, if possible. I mean no offense to the rest of you.”
“I understand perfectly,” Melina said. “I do not mind in the least.”
“Nor do I,” Iolaos said. “I was going to meet some friends in the tavern.”
“Mind if I go with you?” Philie jumped in. “I am afraid I do not have much in the way of funds.”
“I can cover that since it is state business, I believe,” Iolaos said and looked at Melina.
“Absolutely,” Melina said.
With that, the three of them departed, leaving the two of us there alone. The room was still open to all around. I smiled and asked, “It is a pleasant evening, Mage Maleos. Would you care to accompany me on a walk?”
“Gladly,” he said, and we walked off into the garden.
There I told him everything I knew. It was well after midnight when the questions and answers finished. I thought I heard some commotion from the town but did not think anything about it. By the time I returned to my room, it was late at night. I undressed and lay down in my bed alone. It did not matter that I did not have company. I slept like the dead.
The next morning after breakfast, Cleon called us both into his study. I noted Philie had bruises on her arms and face. Cleon walked in quickly.
“I am sorry,” he started, “But the tetrarch and I are receiving lectures on military strategy and other pearls of wisdom from our young Achilles. I mentioned you two were here, but he did not seem interested. I am to attend class again this morning and I am taking you two with me this time.”
“I know. I had a long talk with Maleos,” I told him.
“Good. I was going to suggest that,” Cleon said and turned to face Philie. “Alex has told me about you and your fighting abilities. Iolaos also explained what happened last night. You have my apologies.”
“There is nothing to apologize for,” Philie said with a smile. “Some men do not like seeing women carrying weapons and took offense. However, I doubt if those three will make that mistake again.”
I was wondering what that meant, but I decided to drop it when the tetrarch walked in. He looked as happy as Cleon did at being here. He warmly greeted Philie and me. A few moments later, in walked a large young man who looked to be about twenty. He had the build of an Olympic athlete, fair skin, and bronze hair, and he walked as though he were an ethnarch. He saw us two standing there and frowned.
“Why are these two people here?” he asked, his voice barely hiding his disgust.
“This is the Mage Sopholus, and the Amazon Warrior Philie,” Cleon said, trying to sound polite. “They have been in contact with the Zilar. I thought you may want to question them.”
“I also suggested they come,” the tetrarch added.
Lycus turned and looked at both men with fury as if insulted. “When I want military advice from a peasant and a woman, I will ask for it,” he said, loud enough for those in the garden to hear.
“Lycus,” the tetrarch explained, “these two know more about the plans of the Zilar than any of us. Most of the information we have comes through them.”
“Which is why I do not believe half of it,” he bellowed. “A large army to our west is ludicrous. At most, a few hundred barbarians will come through and we can easily deal with that. This is why I spent most of my time here explaining changes that will be coming from the archon and not listening to stories about some fictitious invasion.”
That was all I was going to hear. “It will not seem so fictitious when a Zilar trooper runs his lance through your guts, as they tried with me. This invasion is real. The sacking of Dysiasty is real. Come this winter, after they harvest the extra grain and fodder they are growing, you will see an army of six thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry backed with siege engines coming through here.”
“Lunacy,” Lycus spat out.
“Not lunacy,” a familiar voice came from the study door. Both Maleos and Melina were standing there. Maleos stepped forward, wearing his full mage robe. “I questioned Mage Sopholus last night at length. His story is true, and you should hear him.”
Lycus let out an audible moan. “This is what I have to put up with at Erinus. My grandfather is an old man, and other old men will whisper in his ears, frightening him. For now, I have to obey the wishes of my grandfather, so I brought this old moros with me. When my grandfather is gone and I am archon, that will stop.”
“If you live that long,” I added. “Very well. I will not bore you any longer with my presence. If you will not listen, others will.”
I started for the door. Lycus stepped forward. “Stop!” he commanded. “I forbid you or anyone else to spread rumors about this invasion. I will not have the people frightened by myths. You will send no messages to the ethnarch or anyone else. I will not look silly when they show up here to meet an army that does not exist. That is my command.”
I did not even face him. I just called back. “First off, you are in no position to command me. Second, even if you were, and may the gods show pity on us on that day, the Mage Code is very specific about what counts as obedience. Mage Maleos can explain that one to you. I will do as I think is best.”
“You peasant scum!” he yelled as I walked to the door, and I heard a sword slide out of its scabbard. There were several deep breaths.
I quickly drew power from a higher energy realm and spun on my left heel, making a casting motion with my right arm. “Aeras,” I called. A ball of air appeared in my right hand, but I did not cast it.
“Put that sword away or I will turn you into a pile of ash,” I said.
No one in the room except Maleos and maybe Philie knew that this magik would not kill Lycus.
“Lord Lycus, stop. He can do this,” Maleos called out and stepped between us, still facing the young man. “My lord, according to the Mage Code, he is well within his rights to bring this matter to the arch-mage or anyone he sees fit. He also has the right to self-protection and you drew your sword on him. This man is not your enemy and if you make him one, few can protect you against him. I know I cannot.”
Maleos turned and looked at me. “Mage Sopholus, you must do as the Mage Code directs you. There should be no violence here.”
“I agree,” I said and let the wind ball dissipate in my hand. “However, since I was insulted, I am leaving.” I looked straight at Lycus. “Do not interfere with me as I go.” I then turned to face Maleos. “Thank you, Mage Maleos, for your kind assistance.”
Now that formalities were over, I walked out of the hall. Philie ran to catch me, as did Melina, with Maleos struggling to catch up.
I got to the stables and saw the groom on duty. “Prepare our horses,” I said. “We need to leave immediately.”
The groom ran to do my bidding. Maleos was out of breath by the time he got there. “Please accept a thousand apologies for this. The boy is a simpleton. Listen to me and remember: I know of the artifact you have, the purple crystal. Malcor told me something about it. I must tell you Arch-Mage Herion has one like it. If you have the power and the will, you might be able to talk to him directly. Tell him what is happening. I fear for this land with that fool as archon.”
“You have my sympathy,” I told him and put my right hand on his shoulder. “We will do what we can here. As for Lycus, you will have to do something about that yourself. Is there no one else in the family who can take power?”
Maleos nodded. “There are two nephews, but they have never been trained. At the first sign of shifting power, Lycus would move against all of us. He is as ruthless as he is stupid.”
I took a deep breath, hesitant about what I had to say. “Do what you have to do and remember what the Mage Code says about protecting the innocent and upholding the public safety. I consider that our first duty.”
Maleos lowered his eyes. “I understand,” he said. “May the gods take pity on us all!”
I looked at Melina. “I am sorry for any trouble I caused your brother.”
“Lycus is mad at you, not us,” she said, looking behind her. “I would watch my back around here in the future. Go, and we will see if this all blows over. If you can reach the ethnarch, by the gods, do so, or all of us here could be doomed.”
By now the groom was back with two horses. Philie and I mounted them and rode away fast, before anyone else could try to stop us.
 
CHAPTER EIGHT: ACTIONS

No one tried to follow us back to our home. That was good — for them. I was still angry, and Philie looked ready to use her sword on the archon and anyone else around him. How someone who was in training to take over ruling an eparchia could act as Lycus did was beyond me. He looked to take delight in alienating everyone around him — not a desirable lesson to teach prospective rulers. We rode mostly in silence until we arrived home. We unsaddled the horses and left them out for collection, then gnawed on some smoked meat for dinner. After sundown, I went back to my cave and hoped what Maleos had told me was correct.
I took off my robe and got as comfortable as possible. When I was ready, I concentrated, and once again the higher energy realms became visible to me. I reached out to touch as many of the brightest lights as I could see and directed their energy into the Speaking Stone. In an instant, it began glowing brightly. The more I concentrated, the brighter it grew. Soon my cave was as bright as the noonday sun. I drew power from the crystal as I had before, but instead of molding that power into a form I could cast, I sent it outward like a lighthouse beacon. I pictured the Pantheon at the Polis of Arginnia, next to the ethnarch’s palace. Malcor had taken me there once as a boy and my memory of the place, while clear, was not perfect. I tried to direct the energy of the crystal toward that temple. I knew Arch-Mage Herion lived there with the priests. I sent my thoughts to the image of the temple still held secure in my mind.
“Arch-Mage Herion, hear me. It is Alexio Sopholus, a student of Malcor. I must talk with you.”
There was no reply; nothing came back and only the image of the temple remained fixed in my head. I tried twice more to call, with no success. By that time, I felt drained. My head was starting to hurt. I broke contact and rested. I had failed in my first attempt. Perhaps I did not have the power to speak to someone that far away. I did not know. I closed my eyes and fell into an immediate sleep.
I tried again the next night, and the night after that, with similar results. No matter what I did, I could not reach the arch-mage. Other than a headache, the results of my labors produced nil.
Nothing was also what happened around us. As summer was reaching its height, all was at peace. All too soon, Philie and I would harvest wheat, barley, and rice from our fields. I even managed to repair the mill wheel. Malcor had built it so that besides grinding grain, it could also pump water and work a bellows. In a few days, we completely repaired it. All remained quiet in the forest, but to me, it was the quiet before a tempest. As soon as it was harvest time here, it would be harvest time in Dysiasty. The harvest would bring the invasion.
After a day of talking to my friends and working in the fields, I went back to my cave. As I approached, I noted the light inside the cave was brighter. The Speaking Stone glowed brighter than it had that morning, and I had not energized it. I sat down, held the crystal in my hand, and infused more energy into it. As I did, I felt a presence in my head like when I speak to my friends. It called to me with an old, faint voice.
“I hear you, Alexio Sopholus. I have not held my stone for days. Only when I touched it and felt your message did I call. Tomorrow, wait for the sun to completely set and then call to me. I will be waiting.”
That night and the next day passed all too slowly for me. I told Philie and the others what I was going to do. All approved since I had previously told my forest friends about my meeting with the new archon. They were as impressed with our new leader as Philie and I were.
Finally, I sat alone in my cave. It was completely dark outside. The brightest of the 342 stars in the heavens appeared. I infused the Speaking Stone again and called out.
“Arch-Mage Herion, please hear me. It is Alexio Sopholus.”
This time something came back. I felt another presence in my head.
“Alexio, I am here,” the faint voice said. “I do not know how long I can maintain the connection, speak quickly.”
“Arch-Mage Herion, a new barbarian tribe called the Zilar have taken and sacked Dysiasty. They have either killed or enslaved the citizens. They have a large horde with six thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry. They also have large siege engines. I fear they will march through the Forest of Allund and attack the land here. The ethnarch must know.”
“We know about this,” the voice spoke softly. “The archon already sent a message saying there are unfounded rumors of an invasion.”
“He is an idiot,” I told him. “They are growing food and fodder at Dysiasty to support their army. I have met their leader Zatart. He has made it clear he seeks domination of the entire land for the Zilar. You must tell the ethnarch.”
“I hear you and feel your concern. I will pass your message to the ethnarch, but I cannot promise anything will come of it.”
The voice sounded fainter and was getting more distant. “I am losing the connection. The archon is wrong; I swear that by the gods. We may need your help.”
There was no reply; the connection was gone. I only hoped I had been able to pass along enough of the message.
I tried to reconnect over the next three nights, but nothing happened. I had to assume my report had gone as far with the ethnarch as it had with the archon.
“That means we are alone in this fight,” Philie said, summing up the situation.
“Where does that leave us for options?” I wondered.
“With six thousand or more troops coming, we can do one of three things,” Philie went on. “We can run, we can hide, or we can die. I doubt even your power can turn that many away.”
She was right about that. “We can run and hide in the mountains,” I suggested. “I don’t want to go to Korpolis. If the Zilar took Dysiasty after a short siege, Korpolis will be no trouble for them.”
“That is true,” Philie said. “Hiding in the mountains could be our best course of action. They cannot keep any army that size here for long. No way to support it.”
“Yes, there is,” I told her. “The fields around the polis are some of the best in the vasíleio. They will have plenty of food, especially if they enslave the people to work the fields.”
“But not in the forest,” Philie added. “They can send in patrols, but not the entire army.”
“They can send in enough,” I said. “Face it, as long as they have slaves and enough water, they can grow food at Dysiasty and use it as a base against us.”
As I said that, I remembered what the Old Ones had told me. The power to defeat the Zilar was in earth and water. In that moment, a light went off in my head. I now saw what the Old Ones had meant.
“Philie, tomorrow I want to walk to the edge of the forest and then past it into the mountains. I want to look at something.”
“What?” she said.
“Something the Old Ones told me,” I said. “If they are right, I think I know how to stop the Zilar. We need to pack for about two days.”
I saw Philie’s confusion, but I needed to tell my friends where we were going.
Two days later, Philie and I were on the Salt Road just past the Central Mountain, where the road enters the vast desert. I was examining the sides of the mountains as they sloped deeply toward the entrance to the forest. Thanks to the eagle vision of Aetos, I knew we had no company anywhere nearby. Looking up at the mountains, I saw many large rocks and huge boulders perched along the sides of the hill. Rain seldom fell here and, as a result, there was little erosion of the rock face. Up higher I also saw the land on the other side of the road and river. There was a ridge and then a shallow valley that ran between the mountains and the ridge. It was perfect for what I needed.
“This might work,” I told Philie. “Look at those boulders along the side of the hills. If there was a landslide, those rocks would roll down the mountain and crash on the ground. The road is narrow, so they would likely end up in the river.”
“So?” Philie asked.
“If I can put enough large rocks in the river, it will act as a dam. The river will back up. If I then cut a channel in the side of the riverbank between the mountain and that leading ridge, most of the water will flow down that shallow valley instead of its normal stream.”
“Cutting the water supply to Dysiasty,” Philie said.
“Right. No water, no crops,” I said. “No crops, no army support, and no invasion.”
Philie’s face lit up as bright as my crystals, and then she frowned. “What about the people in Dysiasty?” Philie realized. “They will die of thirst.”
“This will not stop all water flow in the river bed, but it will divert a lot of it — enough that perhaps they will not be able to grow all the crops they need. That is what the Old One was trying to tell me about the power of earth and water.”
“Can you do that with magik?” she asked.
“I am hoping the Speaking Stone will give me that power,” I said. “Now stay back. I do not know what is about to happen.”
I found a huge boulder, bigger than our hut, perched along the slope of the hills. If it fell, it would fall on the road below. I took a deep breath and concentrated on the realms around me. Seeing the brightest light, I pulled as much power as I could and focused it into a ball of pure wind. I focused my concentration at the base of the boulder, then called out, “Aeras,” and released the ball of tempest winds.
The base of the rock disappeared instantly in a thick cloud of dirt and sand that flew away from us. When the dirt settled, I saw that a lot of ground was gone from under the boulder. A two-podia-deep trench was cut into the dirt in front of the rock. The boulder still did not move. I repositioned myself and cast the wind again, only this time I directed it into the trench at the base of the rock. Again, dirt and rock flew everywhere. When it settled, a trench was cut a few podia deeper under the boulder. I felt drained at that point. I walked up to the boulder and tried to see if it would move. It was as solid as the mountain. Maybe my idea was useless after all.
“Wait, mage,” I heard in my head.
I thought it was Philie talking to me, so I turned around, but she was well below me. Suddenly a movement caught my eye near the top of the mountain; large, headless humanoid creatures were walking across the top. It was the Old Ones.
“Greetings,” I called out. “How may I help you?”
By now, six of them were coming down the slope. My first thought was what Philie would do when she saw them.
“I must tell the woman you are here so she will not be frightened,” I called out. I still held the Speaking Stone, so I focused on her and called out.
“Philie, we have guests. Do not be afraid. The Old Ones are here.”
She turned around and I saw her mouth drop open and her hand slide instinctively toward her sword.
“No, Philie,” I said, running downhill and waving my hand. I reached her, and she looked at me in awe.
“They are the Old Ones!” she yelled and pointed at the half-dozen descending figures. I could tell she was afraid. To her, they looked like monsters.
“Philie, they are just like our other friends. They will not harm you if you do not try to harm them. They live in the forest and the mountains.”
“The gods know you have strange friends,” she said and swallowed.
“Do you wish to meet them?” I asked.
“You were right. They have no heads,” she said. “They walk like us.”
I nodded, and she went on.
“Why are they here?”
“That I do not know, but I am going to ask them. Would you like to meet them?” I repeated. I did not want to force her. “You may have to touch them to talk to them like our other friends.”
“Touch that?” she squeaked.
“It is no different from our other friends,” I repeated. “They wanted to meet you, and you said you wanted to meet them.”
She swallowed hard and followed me back up the hill. By now, the six of them had gathered around the boulder I was trying to move. We went over to them and again bowed.
“Thank you for coming,” I said aloud. “This is the woman, Philie, whom I told you about before. She has not seen your kind before, and your presence surprised her and me. Can we help you?”
“We help you this time,” I heard. “You now understand how to use earth and water to keep those evil men away. This will keep them away without hurting anyone.”
“Yes,” I said with a smile. “I understand now. We divert most of the river so it does not flow to Dysiasty. With less water, they cannot grow food. If they have no food, they cannot come here to hurt anyone. At the same time, there will be enough water flowing that they will not die of thirst.”
“Yes, this is why we help. We will not hurt anyone unless they try to hurt us. If those men come to the forest, they will try to hurt everyone, including us. That we cannot allow. Keeping them away is better than fighting.”
Even though six of them were present, I still only heard one voice in my mind. Philie and I watched them push on the boulder I was working on. With a shove by all six, it rolled downhill, picking up speed as it went. It knocked loose more large boulders and much more rock. The boulders hit the bottom next to the road, rolled across, and stuck fast in the river. The other rocks ended up scattered, with some in the river and some on the road. We all walked down to the river. Although the boulder had blocked the flow, most of it was still getting by. The Old Ones brought down more boulders from the mountain. They carried the larger rocks and threw them in the river. It took most of the day, but we managed to make a dam. Not all the flow stopped, but only a little was moving past the dam. The river started to back up and rise.
“We must now make a new path for the water,” I said loud enough so all could hear me.
With that, I pulled as much power as I could from the nearby realms and concentrated it into a ball of pure wind. I threw it at the bank of the river, in a spot between the ridge and the hills. It cut a ten-podia path in the ground. It was a start, but not nearly enough.
“Let us dig,” the voice said.
All six large figures went to the place I had blasted and started to dig with their huge hands. They pulled up dirt and rock. Soon a trickle flowed into the trench. More and more water flowed as the Old Ones cut deeper and the force of the water cut through the soil. By the setting sun, more than half of the river water was flowing down the new path. The Zilar at Dysiasty were in for a big surprise in a couple of days.
After we finished, I approached them. “Thank you,” I said. “I hope this saves countless lives.”
Philie did something unexpected. She walked up and lightly touched one of the Old Ones on the side of the leg.
“I am sorry if I acted badly when you first came, but you frightened me,” she said. “Alex is right — this may save lives, I hope, but the Zilar may still come back to destroy this dam. If you see them here, can you tell us?”
She was right — Zatart would not take this lying down.
The Old One Philie had touched, and they all looked the same, reached down with his gravel-covered other arm and touched her lightly on the head.
“We will tell you, but we want no fighting here unless the Zilar hurt the forest. We want to stop the fighting.”
“I do not wish to fight either,” she said, looking up at the headless torso. “However, I will not let the Zilar hurt my friends in the forest, my friends in the human polis, or you. If they do this, I will fight.”
“As will I,” I said. “I hope the Zilar get the message and go back to their own land.”
“They may not listen,” the Old Ones said. “This foolishness we have seen before in men. Still, they have been given a warning. We can only see if they are wise enough to listen to it.”
After that, they all started up the mountain and disappeared into the increasing darkness. We stood there and watched them go.
Philie turned to me and smiled openly. “Yes, you do have the strangest friends.”
To be honest, I felt rather pleased with myself when I got back to my cave. I hoped I had solved the problem without resorting to further violence. Malcor was right when he taught me this place was unlike anywhere else in the world and needed protection. Seeing Philie’s initial reaction to the creatures of this forest had only confirmed my suspicions about how most humans would react to this place. By now, I had finished reading through Malcor’s scrolls and decided it was time for some practice.
I went to the nearby hills, where there was no vegetation and few animals, and began to practice what I had read. The first item I was eager to start with was what Malcor called a fire sickle. When one concentrated power to make fire, it came out as a sphere of varying diameter, depending on the skill level of the mage. Malcor had perfected a technique: instead of a ball of fire, he could cast it so it came out as an arc of fire. That arc could be narrow or wide. The longer he made the arc, the weaker the flame. Malcor even said he could cast it as a circle of fire, emanating in all directions from the caster.
Another item he mentioned I called the hammer. One could cast a ball of force, but instead of letting it diffuse outward, focus it into a tiny volume and direct it at a small point. It hit with tremendous force. Malcor said he could split rocks with it. I tried it and found I could easily crack open a rock half my size, even without the crystal.
The item that looked the most devastating, and the one I was most reluctant to use, was the thunderbolt. The caster formed the energy into a thunderbolt instead of a fire. I had seen the master mage instructors use this at the academy, but the results were mostly weak and dispersed quickly. Malcor wrote that by using the stone, he could cause a great discharge, but he was reluctant to use it. I had to agree. Although I am not a great believer in the gods, I view the use of the thunderbolt as the property of Zeus and Zeus alone. Its use by a man would show hubris to the gods and the beliefs of everyone around him. Although I practiced it privately and with low intensity, always in the back of my mind was the thought that the gods, or whatever forces control man’s destiny, would take offense at my presumption and punish me for it.
Besides power for an attack, there was also a passage called Sphere of Force. In this way, the mage uses the power of force, projecting it in all directions instead of only one direction, surrounding himself completely. It can act like a suit of armor. Anything that comes near the sphere is pushed to the side, leaving anyone inside the sphere safe. I had Philie test my knowledge by throwing rocks at me. I was able to deflect most of them, but I knew I would need much more practice for this to be effective protection.
Malcor was not only interested in projecting power. In his section on Life Magik, he explained how he had come to use it to heal animals he had found injured. He could fix broken wings, heal claw marks, and stop bleeding. As long as the body was intact and all the organs worked, he could use the stone to heal almost anything, including himself. Only in the scrolls did Malcor mention that he had reached the age of 152 before he could no longer use the magik to help restore himself. Based on the dates, I understood that once that happened, he aged quickly and died. From his work, I realized I could live another hundred years if I wanted, and assuming the Zilar or someone else did not kill me first.
The next item I wanted to practice was my Metal Magik. Metal Magik will heat iron hotter than a normal forge. At that heat, the magik knowledge allows the mage to add metals and other ingredients to make the molten iron harder. It becomes another metal altogether: mage steel. Mage steel is much harder than iron and certainly much tougher than normal steel. It is rare because it requires much higher temperatures than man can produce without help. Many metal mages are employed making mage steel blades for the armies of the three lands. Mage steel is also used to form shipbuilding nails and to help hold building columns together. To make mage steel, I needed raw materials and fine charcoal. I went into Korpolis and bought some wrought iron and the purest charcoal I could find. The last thing I needed was the cleanest white sand I could find for my castings. Dirty sand would only mess things up. I stayed overnight and found time to spend with Melina and her brother, although I told them nothing of what I had done at the river. Better they did not know in case the archon brat wanted to make trouble.
When I returned, the first thing I did was make my casting mold. Since I had no wooden forms to use, I had to make the two halves of the mold freehand. Philie was of great help to me. Mold-making is time-consuming and delicate work, but one cannot rush it. When done, we used iron clamps to hold both sides of the mold together. I estimated I had enough metal for a standard sword and two fighting knives. Once the mold was ready, I cleaned the smelter out. Unlike with forged steel, the power to heat the metal comes not from charcoal, but from the mage. The smelter was small and the metal scant. The level of mage power needed to melt the iron was low, so I could hold the power for a while. When all was ready, I loaded the smelter with the iron, a small amount of charcoal, and some mage powder — a combination of metals that, over hundreds of years, mages have proved makes the best steel. I directed energy into the base of the smelter and heated the metal. Unlike in Nature Magik, in Metal Magik, the mage concentrates his power on the metal like a beam of intense light until it starts to melt. I took Malcor’s tools and stirred the metal until I was sure it was hot enough. I then scraped the slag from the top of the metal while blowing air from the bellows. Soon the metal mixture was white-hot and as pure as I could make it.
We broke the clay cap on the bottom of the smelter and let the hot metal flow into the forms. I shook the forms with metal clamps to make sure the liquid metal flowed evenly into the mold, and once it started to overflow, we stopped and let the rest of the metal sit in the smelter. I let the form sit overnight, and the next day we broke the mold and found three well-formed blades, still warm.
The next step was hardening, a process whereby the mage heats the blades until hot and then drops them into cold water. That process hardens the blade but also makes it brittle, so after I hardened them all, I had to anneal them by reheating the metal — but not as hot as before — and letting them slowly cool. That would remove the brittleness so they would be hard and strong. Once they were cool, I gave them to Philie and let her use them. They still had no handles, but she could easily wield the blades.
“They are much lighter than my sword,” she said. “I can wield this blade with one hand. But are they strong enough to stand up in battle?”
Philie had me strike at her with her heavy iron sword. I could barely handle its weight. I hit the newly cast sword several times as hard as I could, and other than a distinct ring, nothing happened.
“You think these blades would work in a fight?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said, looking at the blade. “If I need only one hand for the sword, I can use a fighting knife in the other hand to parry or attack.”
“Good,” I told her, “because they are yours now.”
She turned and looked at me. “I thought these were for your oligarch friend.”
I shook my head. “No, he has his own sources of mage steel. I made these for you.”
She smiled broadly. “I thank you,” she said.
“It was the least I could do,” I said. “Besides, we might need them. You will need to put handles on them, then sharpen and polish them, but you know more about that than I do.”
“I will work on them now,” she said and took the blades inside the hut.
I was inwardly happy my metal mage skills had not diminished.
 
CHAPTER NINE: REACTIONS

Philie made three beautiful handles for the sword and two fighting knives. She tested the blades repeatedly until she trusted them enough to carry them. I watched her practice frequently with the new blades as well as with her old iron blade. She told me this way she would keep up her strength. She looked like an expert with them.
I continued to practice using the knowledge in Malcor’s scrolls and, within several days, I felt confident I could use much of it. I also started keeping my own scroll; I might live a long time, but eventually someone would have to replace me. I needed them to know what I had learned. I knew a caretaker had been in this forest for nearly one hundred years. Just how long the forest would continue to need a caretaker, I did not know, but I was sure there was need of one now.
Several days passed before I heard from my animal friends again. Another rider was coming from Korpolis on the Salt Road, only this one was no messenger, for it was just before sunrise. Lykos spotted him and told me he had stopped, tied his horse to a tree, and proceeded on foot. When he was far enough away from the horse, I told Keros to go to his ride, untie it, and lead it away. If this rider was expecting a fast getaway, he was going to get a nasty surprise.
“This one is a spy,” Lykos told me. “He goes through the forest quietly.”
“Do not let him see you,” I told him. “This one I want to surprise.”
I let Philie know about our guest and we lit the lanterns both in the hut and in the cave. Then we stood off to the side and hid.
The other moros I could hear coming fifty paces away. This figure appeared from the orchard like a shadow and then crouched down and approached the hut. He edged himself up against the window and peeked inside. No one was home. He quietly opened the door and walked in. I could hear furniture moving. Our guest was searching Philie’s hut thoroughly. That was when Philie and I approached just as quietly from the trees. Philie had her bow ready; I got a wind ball ready. The cloaked stranger came out of the house and looked around. He saw the other light from my cave. I waited until he stepped away from the hut.
“Aeras,” I said and let the wind ball fly. The stranger jumped up, but not high enough. The wind ball caught him at the knees, knocked him off his feet, lifted him up a few doron, and finally dropped him hard on the ground. It stunned him for a second before he shot to his feet and reached into his robes. He was fast, but magik is faster. I hit him with a ball of force that knocked him back hard ten podia and laid him sprawled on his back. This time he was a lot slower getting up. He looked at us, jumped up, and started running for the orchard.
“The horse you tied to a tree is gone,” I yelled. “My friends also know all about you. If you run, you will be dead before you travel half a stadion.”
The figure stopped suddenly. He was looking at us, but he had his hood up so we could not see his face.
“Our last guest like you ended up in the oligarch’s dungeon,” Philie said. “The ones before him were never heard from again. If you do not believe me, just run away. We will collect what remains of you tomorrow morning. Now remove your robe and cloak and slowly walk toward us.”
The figure hesitated for a moment and then dropped his robe, revealing a figure not much larger than mine, also with a wiry build, but looking much nimbler than I ever was. He was dressed in a simple loincloth.
“Turn around so I can see the hidden knife in your loincloth strap,” Philie said. “I have dealt with your kind before, assassin.”
He did what Philie told him and then took a small knife out of his thin waist strap and dropped it to the ground.
Philie smiled openly. “Now sit down and tell us who you are, who sent you, and who you are here to kill.”
The figure sat down in the dirt but did not utter a sound. I thought about what had worked in the past and decided to prepare a fireball. I walked over, picked up a piece of wood and threw it in the air, not toward the spy, but near him. “Pyra,” I called out.
The fireball jumped from my hand to the wood, turning it to ash before it hit the ground. The sitting figure recoiled in shock.
“I would talk if I were you,” I said. “Otherwise you will simply be the next visitor to this forest that no one ever sees again.”
“Ares,” he shouted out. “Arch-Mage Herion told me you were powerful, but I didn’t think you were that powerful. Usually, people do not detect my approach. How did you do that?”
“I have many friends in this forest and they never sleep,” I said. “Now, am I supposed to believe you know Arch-Mage Herion?” I asked. “Just how can I know that for sure?”
This time the man smiled. “The arch-mage told me to tell you that you and he spoke with the stones, and you asked him for help with the Zilar. The local archon told the ethnarch that you made this Zilar invasion up.”
“He is right,” I said to Philie, who dropped her bow. The arch-mage would never tell anyone about the stones unless it was necessary.
“Very well,” I said. “You know who we are. Now, who are you and why are you here?”
“I am Lampus of Cerrinea,” he said. “Former thief and now the master scout for the ethnarch. My mission is to spy on the Zilar to see what is happening. He needs to know if you or the archon is right about this threat.”
“So, the ethnarch did not totally believe that moros,” I said.
“The ethnarch believes what his eyes, ears, and spies tell him. That is why I am here. Ye gods, you people are good.”
“We get lots of practice,” Philie said. “Now, just how were you going to spy on the Zilar?”
The figure slowly got up. “My plan was to ride near Dysiasty and watch it from a distance. Arch-Mage Herion gave me a looking-glass to watch them.”
“On horseback?” I said in disbelief. “Riding through the middle of that desert? You would not get within two days’ ride from Dysiasty before the Zilar caught you and tortured you to death. The desert is wide open. It has no cover. The Zilar most likely have patrols out looking for people like you. You will never make it.”
“I have my orders,” he said.
“Very well,” I told him. “If that is the case, go on foot. Do not use the road because I am sure the Zilar watch it closely. I would travel only at night and hide in the riverbank during the day. On foot, it will take you four days to get there. If you stay near the river, you can use that for water. Then do the same thing on the way back. In this way, you will have some chance of getting there and back unobserved.”
Lampus looked at me. “You are being very helpful. I do not see that often in my business.”
“Your getting killed before you report does me no good,” I told him. “I need the ethnarch to get an accurate report. Your report might be our only salvation.”
“What do you have for food and supplies?” Philie asked.
“I have marching rations for ten days and my water bottles.”
Philie looked satisfied before adding, “You need only the one bottle as long as you stay near the river. Take the rations and any other spy equipment with you. Leave everything else here. You have to travel light and move only at night, as Alex said, or the Zilar will paint the desert with your guts. Also, take a light-colored blanket. It will help you hide during the day. Do you have one?”
“No,” Lampus said.
Philie turned to go into the hut. “I have a spare,” she said. “Bring it back if you can. Just remember, what Alex says is correct; the ethnarch must know it is we who are correct here. Otherwise, he may find his land invaded and sacked.”
I called out to Keros silently, “Bring his horse here, but do not be seen.”
“I will, Alex,” the unicorn said.
I called to all the others. “The man here is a spy sent to watch the Zilar. See that he gets safely to the edge of the forest. After that, he is on his own. Also, watch to see when he returns. When he gets back, bring him to me.”
“If he gets back,” Kypos said with obvious skepticism.
I could not have agreed with him more. I told our friends to stay here and went off to meet Keros. When I returned with the horse, Lampus was talking to Philie.
“Take what you need and leave the horse here,” I explained. “It will be here when you return. I will take your riding gear and store it away.”
Philie looked at the sky. “It will soon be full light. Travel to the edge of the forest and stay there until night. Remember what Alex and I told you about only traveling at night. Good luck, for you will need it.”
I added, “You might feel you are being followed. You will be correct. Some of my friends will follow and protect you until you reach the end of the forest. Do not look for them. You would not want to meet them in any case. As long as you do not try to hurt them, they will not hurt you. After the forest, we cannot help you because it is all wide-open desert.”
Lampus nodded his understanding. “Thank you,” he said and went to the horse to collect his things. He walked quietly through the forest, avoiding the road. He was gone as fast as he had come.
That night I tried again to send a message to the arch-mage. I did not feel his presence, but I left a message telling him whom we had seen. There was no reply.
Six days later, another rider came from the east. This one was in a hurry. Both Philie and I met him on the road. It was Iolaos.
“I am glad I found you,” he said, dismounting from his tired horse. “The oligarch sent me to find you. He has received a written message from the archon’s brat. The boy says you are endangering public peace and demands you leave the eparchia. I came to warn you.”
I wanted to ask, the brat and what other army would force me to leave here? I decided that would only give the boy more fuel to stoke his hatred. However, there was one obvious omission in what Iolaos told me. “Hmm. Tell me, was the message signed by his grandfather?”
“No,” Iolaos said with a grin, seeing what I saw.
“Well, since the order was not signed by a serving magistrate, it has no legal bearing,” I said. Anyone could argue that legal interpretation in a law court. Did the brat not even know enough law to issue a legal order, or did he not care?
“He will certainly make it legal when he becomes archon,” Iolaos said.
“A lot can happen and most likely will happen before that brat becomes archon.” It was then I noticed Iolaos and Philie smiling at each other, and I suggested Iolaos stay overnight. There were no objections.
We spent the day and the early evening in casual conversation. I told my friends to stay away; we had a friendly stranger at the house. We ate a dinner of meat and vegetable stew, and afterward we finished the wine I had purchased. I drank very little, but Iolaos and Philie finished off the wineskin. After dinner, most of the conversation was soldier talk between the two of them, swapping stories of battles and other fighting they had done. After a while, I excused myself and went back to my cave. Sometime later, I saw the light was out in the hut. I ignored it.
I also ignored the two of them bathing together the next morning and did not come out of my cave until they had finished. I was happy; Philie had not had much enjoyment since I arrived. I saw it as no different from what passed between Melina and me. It obviously made her happy — she was still smiling long after Iolaos had left.
Three days after Iolaos’s visit, I felt another presence in my mind.
“Alex, four riders come to the dam,” the Old One’s voice told me.
“Are they trying to break the dam?” I asked.
“No, they just look,” he told me.
Four people were not going to move most of those rocks. It sounded like a scouting party. My only question was to wonder if they would scout farther. I told Philie and, after we packed a few things, we left for the edge of the forest.
We got there around nightfall and saw their red campfire from a distance. We slept at the edge of the forest and watched the next day. The riders went down into the river and looked at the stones. I saw one measuring the stones carefully with a schoinion* and calling out the measurements to a scribe with parchment and ink. The scribe was making a drawing of the site. Two others were trying to move the rocks without success. These were not warriors; these were engineers.
Philie watched carefully. “We cannot let them finish their work. These four must disappear like the others.”
I wanted no more mindless bloodshed on my hands, but Philie was right. These men could gather enough information so others could come to move the rocks, enough to reestablish the water flow. That would ruin my plan to prevent an invasion by destroying their crops. Still, these men were not threatening us, so this was not self-defense. I felt caught between knowing what was morally correct and what was militarily necessary.
“I am sorry, but I will not kill people who are not trying to hurt us,” I told her.
“That sentiment will get us all killed,” Philie growled. “If you do not want the Zilar here, you have to stop them, and the only way to do that is by killing them. You had no problem with that before.”
I turned and faced her and her growing anger. “That happened because of two things,” I said briskly. “One was ignorance of my power. The other was that they said they were going to kill us. It was self-defense and we are all allowed that. Now I know what my power is capable of, and these four men are not trying to kill us.”
Philie’s face went red. “Their information will kill us as surely as if they ran us through with spears.”
“I am sorry, but a mage does not murder,” I said tersely. “If we did, there would be terror throughout this world.”
Before I could move, Philie knocked me aside and ran toward the boulders. She had her bow out and an arrow knocked in it. I hit the ground, stunned for a moment before I got up. The four men were so intent on their work, they did not even see her for a moment. I stood and slowly made my way toward the survey crew.
Philie had gotten about halfway there before the scribe looked up, shouted, and pointed toward her. She stopped and released an arrow. It traveled straight and hit the scribe in his broad chest. He fell back. The other three were climbing on the stones. They pulled out swords and fighting knives and started toward Philie. Three-to-one odds were bad, even for her. I cursed because now I felt like I had no choice. I grabbed the Speaking Stone and started to draw energy out of the realms. The three Zilar were close together.
“Keravno*,” I called out.
A bolt of white lightning flew from my hand and hit the ground next to the three men. There was an immediate thunderclap of noise and all three men fell in a heap. It took me only a little while to reach them. They were all dead and their horses had bolted. Philie ran to the scribe and looked him over.
“He won’t be writing anymore,” she said happily.
For a moment I felt the need to use my power again, but I forced myself to relax.
“Bring the bodies and all their things here!” I shouted. “Those horses will get back to Dysiasty and the next party they send out will be a lot bigger than four engineers.”
I felt awful. Philie had forced me into this. Forced me because she knew I would protect her. I stood there, barely in control of myself. I walked around the camp, collecting all the things I could find and piling them together with the bodies. We took all their parchments, measuring sticks, ropes, ink, pen, even their food and water bottles, and placed them in a big stack. Stepping back, I drew enough power to make an all-consuming fireball and burned it all to ash. Only the charred bones remained as a witness. Only then did I speak to Philie.
“Woman!” I shouted at her. Some of the magik leaked into my voice so it was like another thunderclap. “Do not ever force me to kill unnecessarily again. A mage does not do this. This mage cannot do this.”
She was not cowed by my shouting. “You cannot?” she yelled right back. “This is war, Alex, not an exercise in magik use. In war, fighting happens, people die, and things are destroyed. Your mage code of honor makes me sick. What works is finding your enemy and stopping them the best way you can. In the real world, men and women do not get to pick their fights. Only the gods can do that, and you are not a god, as you so often tell me. Your piety makes me want to vomit.”
I felt the rage building inside me again. “You and most people know nothing about magik. You think this is something like a cooking pot that we can use when we want and how we want. It is not!” I bellowed. For the first time, I actually saw fear on Philie’s face.
“That Mage Code does not exist so we can stand aloof above all man’s concerns, using our power only as we see fit. There is a reason it is here. Tell me, if I decided right now that I wanted to be oligarch of this land, what would stop me from marching to Korpolis, slaughtering anyone or anything in my path, killing Cleon and Melina, and making myself magistrate? When I am done there, I could march to the archon’s palace, grab that bratty kid by the throat and turn him into a dust pile. Then I could march and burn down the ethnarch’s palace and make myself ethnarch. What is to stop me, Philie? What will stop me from doing anything I want? You, the oligarch’s troops, the other mages, maybe the gods themselves?”
I took a deep breath and went on. “I will tell you what can stop me: nothing! Especially with the power I now command. I can make myself ruler of this land, and maybe even the world, on a whim. I can make the Zilar look like children playing in the street if I want to. I can bring as much death and destruction to this world as I please.”
I stopped and let that sink in. I must have looked frightful because Philie was backing up, clasping the handle of her new sword.
“That won’t stop me either,” I said, my voice still booming. I tried to calm down, taking deep breaths and trying to look and sound normal again. “What will stop me, Philie, is myself. I will stop me. I will stop me because of this Mage Code which, despite what you think, is not here solely for some esoteric purpose. It is here, and it is here for a reason. That code and my behavior have been ground into me by my parents, my friends, Malcor, the master mages, and a hundred examples of what chaos can occur if a powerful mage decides on his own that he can fix the world’s problems and acts on his own impulses. The gods cannot even do that. So what chance do I have? You think I want to become the supreme magistrate and sole judge for the world. No, I do not, because I know I cannot do it. What is more important, I know I should not do it. That code is not here to make my life easy or to use only when it is convenient. The code is here so mages like me don’t end up destroying this world we swear to protect. May the gods take pity on me, that is why I cannot lose control or be forced into taking action that works against what I think is right, even at the cost of my life.”
With that, I walked away from the dam and down the road. I knew the Zilar would be back, and in greater force than ever before. I said nothing more to Philie but went home and into my cave.
I got up the next day and decided I needed more time to myself. I walked out past the open area when I heard it.
“Whooooooo,” something called out.
I turned to face the noise and saw that the white owl with the yellow eyes was resting on the same branch where I had seen it before. I walked up to it, yet it remained in place.
“It is still only me,” I said.
“That is all you and we need, Alex. Remember that,” it told me, and flew away to vanish in the forest.
In the hills nearby, a small waterfall brings water down to form the small stream that runs by our hut. The water seems to appear directly from the rocks. When I was a boy, I sometimes bathed under its cold waters. Today I felt dirty. I had scented oil with me, so I removed my robe, washed it, and hung it over some rocks to dry. I washed my loincloth and laid it next to my robe. Now fully naked, I went to the waterfall and bathed. I felt dirty both inside and outside. At least on the outside, I got clean.
“Alex, our spy returns, and I do not think he is alone,” I heard Alkina call in my mind.
That brought me out of my stupor. I shot to my feet and dressed quickly in my wet clothes. I took the Speaking Stone and put my neck crystal on. I made sure my knives were ready. I debated whether to call Philie.
“Alkina, how many are following him?” I asked.
“He has four people tracking him,” Alkina told me.
“There are others behind them,” Alkos said. “They are waiting at the edge of the forest.”
I clutched the Speaking Stone in my pocket and mentally called out. “The spy is returning, and he is not alone. All come to the hut, but do not be seen until we know more.”
A moment later Philie stuck her head out the door. “I heard you. I will be ready in a moment,” she said and went back inside.
“The spy is close to you. The four behind him will take a while longer,” Alkina said.
“Alex, we are here,” Keros said. “The others are here except Aetos and Aerra. They are flying farther into the desert to see if anyone else comes.”
“The rest of you, go past my hut and into the forest and wait,” I said. “Let the spy and the group of four men come to us.”
A few moments later, I saw two huge wolves, two large boars, and two large unicorns run across the open area on the other side of the hut and disappear into the woods.
I could not believe he had been stupid enough to travel during the day. I waited and sure enough, a lone figure stumbled out of the woods, into the open area, and right into me. Lampus looked up at me.
“I cannot sneak up on you at all,” he said with a grin.
“No, you can’t, and neither can the four Zilar following you,” I said with disdain. “You led them right to us.”
“Following me?” he said with surprise. “No one is following me.”
“I wish that were true,” I said, shaking my head. By now, Philie was outside, dressed in armor and carrying a bow, a sword, and her knives.
“There are four Zilar following him and about a dozen more behind them, waiting at the forest’s edge,” I told her. “The first four will be here in a short while. Our friends are watching the others.”
“Friends again,” Lampus said.
“Yes, friends,” I repeated. “I just hope no one but the Zilar is hurt tonight. Now, hide. I want to take the four out quietly. I do not want to use magik for these.”
All three of us hid among the trees. A few moments later I heard a light breaking of bushes, and out of the trees came four Zilar dressed in the usual yellow uniform and carrying knives. They had no swords or spears.
One was bent close to the ground, following Lampus’s trail. “He came this way,” he whispered.
“Look — a hut. Maybe he went in there,” another said.
They reached the middle of the open area, approximately fifteen paces from us. “Wait,” the first one said, still looking at the ground. “There are other tracks here. He is not alone.”
“Got that right,” Philie said and let loose an arrow. It hit the first one in the upper left chest.
“Greetings,” Lampus said and threw two of his knives into the chest of the second one.
I said nothing witty but also threw two knives. I aimed for the chest of the other one who was standing, but I threw a little high. One of my knives went into his throat and the other into his left eye.
Three were down in an instant; the fourth one shot to his feet and looked right at Philie. That arrow went through his chest. It was over before anyone knew it had started.
“Get your arrows and knives, and get these bodies out of here,” I said. “There may be more here soon.”
“Where are the others?” I called to my friends.
“Still by the forest,” Alkina said. “They are setting up camp.”
We dragged the bodies into the orchard and hid them.
“How many more?” Philie asked.
“About a dozen at the upper camp,” I said. “If they are stupid enough to come into the forest, we will have help with them.”
They waited until the following dawn and then left, riding west. Maybe the Zilar were starting to get smart.
 
CHAPTER TEN: RESULTS

After cleaning up the mess, we all sat down outside the hut and talked. By nightfall, one would never have known a fight had occurred there. If Zatart was looking to gain information, he failed, and he failed for the same reason: he had no idea what was facing him in the forest. I wondered how long it would be before he grew tired of this slow attrition and sent in his whole force. Up until now, his invasion had been a set of small one-sided victories for us; I could not believe Zatart was stupid enough to let this continue.
Lampus gave us a fast synopsis of what he had seen. First, he had noticed the river had dried up and had seen our dam. This caused the river level at Dysiasty to drop so far as to render the man-operated screw pumps that raised water to the fields useless. The Zilar were using their slaves and most of their desert troops to carry water up the bank to the fields in buckets or anything else that could hold water. It was slow, and too little water made it up the steep banks to sustain the large fields. He had noticed the wheat fields and the grassy fields turning brown and drying up. I think he suspected we built the dam, but he never asked, and I did not tell.
He had seen three of the large rock throwers at the polis, but the Zilar were taking them down. He had watched as one was taken apart and loaded into several wagons. He also estimated about 1,500 infantry and 500 cavalry were in the polis. If all the fields had produced crops and fodder, he estimated the size of that force in the polis could have increased at least fivefold. During the days he had remained there, he had seen a group of about one hundred riders arrive from the west. They left and went back the same way two days later. Finally, he had noticed the four-man engineering party ride past him, heading toward us, and noted that only the horses returned on his way back.
We sent him on his way, satisfied that Lampus saw the situation as we saw it and would tell the ethnarch the same story. We gave him some food and an extra horse and told him to make the best time possible to the ethnarch and not stop at Korpolis. I would not have put it past the young brat to position spies there to watch for him. With him gone, I called all our friends together, minus the Old Ones, and we spoke outside the hut.
“Thank you all for your help. Once again you have beaten back our enemies,” I said.
“Yes, but will they stay away?” Kypos said.
I had given Philie the Speaking Stone so she could hear us and speak with us.
“As I see it,” she said. “This Zatart has three choices: first, do nothing and just garrison the town. Without those extra crops, no army will be coming. Second choice is they can pack up, go home, and try again later. They have gone through too much trouble for that. Third, and my choice, is to attack the dam with everything they have. They could restore the water flow. That could be happening now.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
Philie pointed toward the distant polis. “Because Lampus saw the stone throwers being taken down. They would not do that unless they wanted to move them. What Lampus did not find out was where they were going. They could be leaving the polis to go west, or they could be coming here. Coming here would make more sense and would account for the scouting party they sent after Lampus. The Zilar wanted to know whom he met and get information from them.”
“If they did come here, what could we do?” I asked.
Philie shook her head. “Not much unless all of us together think we can stop over a thousand troops. Those troops could easily dismantle our dam.”
I looked around at our friends and saw none of them were eager to take on that many Zilar. They were not as tactically astute as Philie, but they were not stupid either. They knew that twelve against over a thousand was suicide.
“Well, then, the only thing we can do is watch,” I said. I turned to face my two huge golden eagles. “Aetos and Aerra, when you fly near the mountain, please keep looking for any movement to the west of us.”
“We will watch,” Aerra said, looking at her mate.
I remembered something else Zatart had told me. “The other forest animals should stay away from the edge of the forest. The Zilar may try to burn down that area with their stone throwers to keep us away.”
“You think they would do that?” Philie asked. “It seems a waste.”
“Yes,” I told them. “If you are right, it means we have forced the Zilar into action. We have made them desperate; we must assume they will try anything to keep us away us while they destroy the dam.”
Four days went by before it happened. This time, however, it was not the eagles that spotted them coming. I was sitting in my cave, going over some scrolls Malcor had written about military tactics.
“Alex, there is a great cloud of dust to the west,” I heard. It was one of the Old Ones.
“They are coming to attack the dam,” I told him.
“We know this. They did not listen to our warning,” the voice said as if surprised.
I was not so surprised. “Get your people away from the road and forest. They may try to burn down the woods.”
I grabbed the Speaking Stone. “They are here,” I called out as loud as I could. “Get ready.”
I reached out to the higher-order realms and infused the Speaking Stone with as much energy as I could. I collected my throwing knives and fighting knives and put them in my mage robe pockets, then picked up the small crystal and hung it around my neck. I returned everything else to the secret compartments and went down to the hut. Philie was already outside, dressed in armor and carrying her weapons. She was filling the wineskins with water while I took some supplies out of storage and the smokehouse. We loaded these items into our backpacks and without a word started to walk toward the edge of the forest.
It was midafternoon when we arrived. We hid at the edge of the forest, two stadia from the dam. Unlike Lampus, I did not have a seeing tool, so at best we could make out only some activity. Many horsemen rode toward us and formed a line in front of the dam. After that, I could not see anything behind them. The huge cloud of dust farther back told me many more were present.
“We can’t see anything here,” Philie complained. She looked around and noted a hill to our right. “Let us go to the top of that hill.” She pointed.
Noting the lack of vegetation on the hill, I added, “We will be seen.”
“Not if we stay in the forest when we move,” Philie said, pointing out a path. “We go through the forest and up the back side of the hill, and only peek over the top. As long as we do not stand up, they should not see us.”
I followed her, keeping low. It took us a while to make our way to the top of the hill. Over the tops of the riders, I could see a column of troops near the dam, and behind them was a long line of wagons.
Philie pointed all of this out to me as if I were a first-year student at a military academy. “The cavalry is taking up position to give security for the infantry. The infantry is busy setting up camp. The long line of wagons means they are here for as long as this takes. This is it. This is most of their force. They must have left only a few troopers back at Dysiasty, guarding the slaves.”
“Korpolis needs to know this,” I realized aloud.
“I know,” she said, still looking at the approaching forces. “That is why I want you to go there now and warn them. It will be tomorrow at the earliest before they are ready to do anything. It will take them some time to reassemble the rock throwers.”
“You should go,” I said. “If they come, I can at least throw more magik at them, and I can communicate with my friends more easily.”
“No,” she said. “You have the power, but you won’t use it unless they attack us. This is one time we might have to hit them first.”
“That was different, and you know it,” I said flatly. “Before, it was only four men who did not threaten us directly. They have sent well over a thousand people here and it is obvious they are here to destroy our friends, this forest, and us. I promised Malcor I would protect this place. If that means killing all of them, so be it. The Old Ones said we gave them a warning; they ignored it.”
Philie took a deep breath, not convinced by my argument in the slightest. “Very well. I will go. They will most likely send their entire cavalry forces into the forest to scout ahead, thinking you cannot fight all of them. If they do, take our friends and hide in the hills. Use the stone to talk to me.”
With that, Philie backed down the hill until she was out of view and then ran for the hut.
“Keros,” I called out. “Bring Philie’s horse to the hut quickly; she needs to ride fast for Korpolis.”
“I hear. I will get the horse as fast as I can,” the unicorn answered quickly.
I grabbed the stone and concentrated as hard as I could. “The Zilar are here. They will attack the forest. Meet me at the edge of the forest, at the bottom of the hill near the road.”
I heard many voices replying at once. I sat still, watching and waiting. A while later I heard a rumbling on the ground behind me. I looked at the base of the hill and saw one of the Old Ones there. My other friends were giving the headless humanoid creature a wide berth. I backed down the hill.
Other than the eagles, they were all present. “Greetings,” I said as cheerfully as possible. “I am glad you could come. The Zilar are back, and there are many more, but not their whole army. I think our damming the river has forced them to attack us early to restore the water flow. They have brought their stone throwers. With these, they can set fire to the forest.”
All my forest friends looked shocked. “They would not dare,” Alkos snorted.
“They dare,” the Old One moaned. “They do not care about tree, stone, animal, or plant. All they know is to destroy.”
“Then we should destroy them,” Lykos said and growled loudly.
“And you would all die uselessly before you could get close to them,” I told them. “We have to wait.”
“Alex, the others tell me something is happening,” the Old One said.
I turned to climb the hill again and looked over the top. Below, I saw two columns of men in hundred-man formations marching directly toward me. One was marching along the road in a column four wide. The other group was a column of ten wide. As they got closer, I could see almost all the men wore the skins of desert tribes. Only a few wore the light-yellow uniform of the Zilar. I could form a huge fireball, throw it into the ten-man column, and kill maybe fifty. The idea of causing that much death bothered me. I looked out and saw the others in the army watching them move. The entire army was watching these troops. In the back, a great drum was beating a marching pace. Likely most of the troops approaching, and in the army behind them, were tribesmen. Then I remembered something Malcor had told me that gave me a better idea — the desert people were a superstitious lot.
I backed away and climbed down the hill. “All of you leave,” I told my friends. “I am going to try something.”
With that, I ran back the way I had come with Philie a while before. When I got to the side of the hill, I looked around. The ten-man column was drawing closer, now within five hundred paces. I took the stone out and concentrated on the higher energy realms. I transferred power into the crystal, all the power I could, and then held its glowing light in my hand. I focused my power and took as much into me as possible. I had to do this right and I would only get one attempt. The ten-man column was not more than three hundred paces away by the time I was ready.
I walked out from behind the hill. There was still enough surrounding growth to hide me. I saw a Zilar officer on horseback, leading the column from the third row, and concentrated on him.
“Keravno,” I called out.
From my hand, a lightning bolt flew and hit his horse. There was a huge thunderclap. A cloud of dust rose, obscuring them all. When it dissipated, the horse, the rider, and a dozen men around him were lying on the ground. A few of the fallen men were moving awkwardly, and several were not moving at all. Now came the second part of my plan.
I let the magik carry my voice, making it sound like thunder.
“Moros!” I shouted. “Did you not know this place is protected by the gods? Flee. Flee. Flee for your miserable lives, or what happened to the others in this forest will happen to you.”
With the last of the power I had, I focused another lightning bolt on the four-man road column.
“Keravno,” I called out again.
This bolt was weaker and only felled a few men. It was enough, however. With the second bolt, the desert tribesmen in both columns broke and ran for their lives. Only a few Zilar troopers remained, looking bewildered. They looked at each other and took off after their comrades, all running for the rear in a blind panic. I made my way to the top of the hill again and watched. The retreating men ran into the line of cavalry and threw them into confusion. The entire mass ended up back at the main camp. Even from here, I could hear shouting, trumpet calls, and all sorts of commotion that went on until dark.
I spent a lonely night on the top of the hill, waiting for Philie. She never came. I watched many large fires light up the desert. A cavalry force of a hundred riders came forward again and set up a smaller camp near the dam. There were lots of banging noises from the main camp, but with just the light from their fires, I could not tell what was happening. I endured a mostly sleepless night.
The next morning, once daylight broke, I could see what was happening. Three large machines were taking shape in the camp. They had to be the stone throwers. They were at least fifty podia high. In the midmorning, a large party of men emerged from the camp and walked in front of the cavalry. Only a few had weapons as far as I could tell. They all stayed more than two stadia away. That was way out of range for me to use any magik without coming out of hiding. Throughout the day, they leveled an area by adding dirt from the base of the hill and pounding it down hard with weights. It was obvious that this place was where they would set up the stone throwers. Once I saw that, I silently called for my friends.
“They are getting ready to use their stone throwers,” I said. “Once they have set them up, they will hurl fire to burn down the forest. Get the other animals away from here.”
“Can we attack them?” Kypos asked.
“No,” I said emphatically. “The ground is open between us. They will see you coming a long way off and shoot arrows at you. You will all be dead long before you reach them.”
“What are we going to do?” Alkina asked.
I hated to admit failure, but I did not see any way to hurt them without committing suicide. “I do not know. I am not sure if there is anything we can do.”
“Alex, look at where the men work,” I heard the voice of the Old Ones.
I wondered what that meant. I climbed the hill again and watched the men work. The layout of the work site told me they would set up the stone throwers past the dam. It was still much too far away to attack, especially if they put troops up front to guard the wooden structures. I might be able to get close enough at night for one fireball, but that would be all I could do.
“I see it,” I thought.
“Look up the hill,” the Old Ones ordered.
As I did, I saw the nearby hill slope up a few hundred podia and at the top, I saw a little movement where the Old Ones most likely were. They were on top of the same hill as before. Then it hit me. How did we make the dam?
“I see it,” I almost shouted. “You can roll rocks down the hill at the stone throwers where they are setting up.”
“Yes. We get ready,” the Old One said.
“Not now,” I told him. “Wait until they bring up the stone throwers and start to use them.”
“Yes,” the Old Ones agreed.
I looked back at the rest of my friends. “Leave, and get the others out of here,” I said and waved them off.
They disappeared into the forest. Now all I had to do was think of myself. It was in the early evening when they moved the first stone thrower up. Each one had a crew of about fifty pushing the large wooden frame forward, using iron rods under the wheels to steer it. It did not take long to erect the first one, but it took a while to push and pull it off the road and into its prepared place and then to level it. The second one took a lot less time and the third no time at all since it stayed on the road. I could now study them more closely.
Each stone thrower was essentially a large lever. On one side was a huge weight that swung freely, and on the other end, the lever was longer and had a rope attached to it. In the middle of the structure was a man cage, like what appears on construction cranes. I knew they would use that to raise the weight, and then the weight would drop at the end of the lever, causing the other end to swing upward in a great arc before releasing the rock. Years ago, someone told me one of these machines could toss a rock weighing many talents across a distance of several stadia.
As the Zilar struggled to get the last stone thrower into place, they started to bring up many wagons. By midnight, they had about a dozen wagons near the throwers. They unloaded the first one and I saw many balls of metal with something sticking out the top.
I realized the first rock thrower they had set up was directly in front of me, so, concealed or not, I would be in the path of the first stone. I moved back and made my way quickly toward the hills. I heard banging and clanging from behind me, and as I reached the bottom of the hill, I heard a loud voice yell, “Loose!” I turned quickly and saw three flaming balls flying over where I had just been, into the forest. I did not see them land, but within moments, flames rose over the trees in the forest. The Zilar wanted to set the entire forest on fire. I climbed up the large hill near the rocks for a better view. I heard the stone throwers fire again, and three more flaming balls flew into the forest.
I finally climbed high enough to see clearly. I was far away, but it looked like they put one of the metal balls on the stone thrower and then lit the top of it. The weight dropped, and the ball arced into the air. As soon as it cleared the thrower, the entire ball lit up, turning it into a flame. I watched the path of each flaming ball, and the fire was beginning to blaze where they were landing. I looked back at the throwers; the men were unloading the second and third wagons of balls, and I could see at least ten more wagons waiting to unload their deadly cargo. There was enough to burn down the entire forest. This had to stop.
“Can you hear me?” I called out to the Old Ones.
“Yes, Alex, we see they are trying to burn down the forest,” the Old Ones said. I detected what sounded like disgust in his voice.
“Are you ready?” I asked as the stone thrower fired again.
“Yes,” came the answer.
“Roll down the boulders,” I said.
For a few moments, nothing happened. Then there was a crashing noise from above and in front of me, and I saw a large rock roll down the mountain. It gathered speed and as it reached the bottom, it veered away from me and smashed into the side of the first wagon, breaking its wheel. The wagon fell over, dumping the metal balls. I saw several of the balls break open, spilling liquid across the ground.
The second boulder rolled down the hill even faster, hit the side of the closest stone thrower, and knocked it sideways. The metal ball the men were loading into it was knocked aside and spilled its liquid everywhere. One of the torches lighting the area fell into the liquid. Instantly a huge inferno engulfed two men nearby in a cascade of orange flame.
“Roll the stones to hit the wagons,” I called out.
I climbed quickly up the hill to get out of the reflected light. By now, people were running around in a panic. Men on fire were screaming. Horses were bolting in every direction. It was utter chaos.
I moved out and tried to get closer to the place where the rocks were rolling down. As I advanced, I saw two more boulders roll down in front of me. They hit the second and third wagons, throwing their metal balls everywhere. The stone thrower crews were already starting to run away, and the wagon drivers had jumped down to run for their lives. A few unbuckled the horses before they fled. Most just ran in a panic. The horses still hitched to one of the wagons reared, causing a mass collision with most of the other wagons.
“Don’t run!” I heard someone shout. “Save the stone throwers.” Someone was standing between the second and third stone throwers. From the voice, I thought it might be Zatart, but I could not tell. I kept moving and saw more rocks rolling down. As I got closer, I looked down and, though it was still far, decided I might be able to do it from where I stood. I lay flat and concentrated all I had, picking out the brightest realms and gathering their energy. I focused it and formed it into a powerful fireball, then directed it toward the first wagon the rocks had smashed. I saw the fireball get smaller and smaller as it traveled until it was barely visible by the time it reached the wagon. Suddenly, a huge flash of light almost blinded me. A fire fountain shot high into the sky, sending flames everywhere, some landing around the first and second wagons, setting them afire. More flames exploded into the air, then landed on the other nearby wagons, setting them afire too. More flames rained down on the broken and spilled balls, sending out exploding fireballs and even more geysers of liquid fire.
When the third wagon exploded, I saw a wall of flame wash over the space near the stone throwers. The man who was shouting to save them suddenly disappeared behind a wall of solid orange flame. I thought I heard a brief scream, but it was mostly drowned out by the louder screaming of the horses and other men. Within moments, the entire area around the stone throwers had turned into an avalanche of flame, consuming everything in its path. The flames were so thick and bright, I could not see into them. I continued to hear horrible screams of men and horses as they burned alive. I could feel the intense heat from where I was.
“Stop the boulders,” I called out.
I looked at a scene of total destruction. The only smell was the now familiar odor of burning flesh. I tried not to vomit, but I could not help it. I had no idea how many of the invaders I had just killed.
I realized there was one more thing to do. I summoned the magik again and used it to make my voice louder.
“You were told to flee, doomed ones,” I shouted out. “Now suffer the fate of all those who come here to do harm. Return to your villages. Go back to your lands. Never come here again or you will suffer the same fate.”
The light from the fire was so bright I could not tell who was leaving or who stayed. By now, all three stone throwers were burning like wood in a campfire. I decided to find a hiding place and stay where I was. All the physical and emotional effort had tired me out. I found a place I was sure I could rest unobserved. I did not plan to fall asleep, but my efforts and lack of sleep had exhausted me.
When I awoke, it was morning. I peeked out from where I had hid. Spread out before me was a trail of burnt wagons, men, and horses. The trail of fire extended past the dam, almost all the way to the camp. As I looked closely, I saw nothing moving; the fire had burned itself out.
“Are you there?” I called to the Old Ones.
“We are here, Alex,” they said. “There was much destruction.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “But it was destruction they brought on themselves. They wanted to burn the forest. This was justice.”
“Yes, it was their fault, but there has still been much destruction.” The voice sounded as if it was sorry about what had happened.
“Do you see anyone moving?” I asked.
“Those of us there see no man or other creature moving. Even the birds are quiet. They have all fled into the desert. At least those who could flee are gone. We are trying to put out the fire in the forest.”
“Moros!” I cursed myself for forgetting.
“I will be there soon,” I told him. I hurried away from this place of death. I had to preserve what remained alive.
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN: RESOLUTION

By the time I reached the fire, it was burning through the trees and was about three stadia from the hill at the forest’s edge. The wind was blowing from the east, pushing the fire toward the hill. I saw more than a dozen Old Ones, more than I had ever seen before, fighting the fire. They had a brutally simple way of making a firebreak. Several Old Ones would knock trees down and then toss them aside. This left a small opening. They repeated this many times throughout the morning, eventually making an effective gap between the fire and the untouched forest; as the fire reached the gap, it started burning itself out. I contributed with a heavy use of Nature Magik to pull power out of the fire and send the energy to a lower realm. By noon, the fire was out, and I was exhausted again.
I sat on the ground, ready to sleep again. One of the Old Ones looked down at me. “You have used the magik too much today, Alex. You must rest.”
“I intend to,” I said wearily. “But this had to be done. I am not going to let the Zilar destroy my home.”
“Our home, Alex,” he reminded me.
“Of course. That was stupid of me,” I realized. “I am just tired,” I said, yawning. I looked up at the huge gravel-covered torso towering over me. “Thank you all,” I said, trying to sound sincere. “You Old Ones have saved the forest. You did much more than I did last night and today. I wish I could have been of more help.”
“You did what you could,” the voice said in a soothing tone. “You have also pleased others. Look in front of you.”
I looked at one of the undamaged trees closest to the fire. It was a large oak, and on a lower branch sat a white owl. Only then did I realize that my actions over the past two days might not have been pleasing to the gods or whoever controlled this world. I slowly pulled myself up and walked over. The owl did not move. As I drew close, I bowed my head.
“I did not mean to usurp the power of the gods,” I said. “I felt I had to do something to protect this forest. Please accept my apologies for using the superstitions of the desert men to make them think I was you, and for using the thunderbolts and fireballs against them. I meant no disrespect of the gods or whoever you are.”
“Sit under the tree, Alex,” the owl told me.
I did and leaned against the wide trunk, suddenly feeling very tired again. I felt something light, like a leaf, land on my shoulder. The owl looked at me. The face, with its piercing yellow eyes, seemed to soften, almost to smile as Melina would. “You are troubled again; do not worry, for you have done well.”
“I just keep thinking of all those people I killed last night,” I said.
“Rest, mage,” the owl said, and I went out like a doused campfire.
Sometime later, I felt something wet on my face. I opened my eyes to see a huge tongue licking the side of my head. It was Lykina. She nuzzled my face with her soft fur.
“Come, Alex. You will soon have visitors,” she said.
I shot to my feet. “The Zilar are back?” I shouted.
“No, Alex,” she said. “Both Aetos and Aerra tell us the Zilar are still running toward the desert polis. There are many riders, but these come from Korpolis, I think.”
I took a deep breath of relief. I did not think I could repeat what happened last night. I looked down and felt my bladder was ready to burst. “Excuse me,” I said and went off into the trees to relieve myself.
It was then I saw the sky. It was late morning again. I had slept through the rest of that day and all through the night. I had never slept that long before. That owl must have used a powerful sleeping potion or spell. I walked back and petted Lykina.
“Did you stay with me all night?” I asked her.
“Just some of the night,” she said. “The others also watched over you. Now get on my back and we will hurry to the hut.”
The huge wolf got down on her knees and I climbed onto her back, just as I had when I was a boy. We raced away to the hut. Both Alkos and Alkina were already there.
“Many men come on horses,” Alkos reported. “Most are armed. They will be here shortly.”
“Thank you,” I said and then called to my friends. “I do not know what these people want. Please stay close, but do not be seen.”
I jumped down from Lykina’s back and moved quickly to the road. I could hear a commotion coming from the direction of Korpolis. I stayed partly hidden in the orchard, and I soon made out many riders. Almost all of them were in uniform. I recognized Iolaos, who was leading several riders in Korpolis uniform as well as others in different uniforms. I remembered it from before. It was the dress of the archon, but he was not with them. In the back were two riders not in uniform. One was an old man who was wearing a fine red robe and a gold medallion of state office. The other I knew immediately. It was Melina. I expected to see Philie, but she was not there.
“Greetings,” I called out, using a little magik to make my voice louder.
I walked out of the trees and onto the road as they went past. They all stopped.
I saw relief on Melina’s face and happiness on Iolaos’s, but the others looked at me intently as if expecting me to do something violent. They were on edge; something was wrong here.
“All of you stay hidden,” I said, still smiling at the party. “If they attack me, come help, but do not kill the woman or Iolaos.”
“I assume you saw the fires from the polis,” I said as they approached.
“Yes, we thought you were killed,” Melina said.
“You should have come two days ago,” I joked. “Things were much more interesting. Where is Philie?”
I saw Iolaos jump down from his horse and walk toward me. He looked serious.
“We could not come,” he said. “The archon’s grandson returned with a letter from his grandfather saying he is in charge now. He wants you arrested for spreading lies about an invasion.”
I blew a long breath out of my mouth in shock. “Arrested?” I said. “You just said you saw the fires. Who do you think lit them?”
Iolaos explained calmly. “The boy did not care and forbade any of us from coming here until the fires went out. That is why he sent his troops with us to arrest you, as he did to Philie.”
“What?” I shouted. My voice was like a thunderclap. The horses started to rear up. They were nervous anyway, sensing who was nearby.
One of the troopers wearing the archon’s uniform got off his horse and walked up to me. “Mage Alexio Sopholus, I arrest you in the name of the archon on the charge of treason for spreading lies about a false invasion. You will come—”
“Aeras,” I called out, interrupting the conversation. I cast a small wind ball to knock him down. He looked surprised and very angry. He glared and started to get up, drawing his sword.
“Stop,” I called out. I waited. Even the archon’s trooper froze.
“If any of you think you are going to arrest me, you are sadly mistaken,” I said forcefully. “The next person who draws a sword on me will be dead before he gets it fully out.”
“Get ready,” I told the others.
An audible deep growl and high-pitched squeal sounded from within the forest. The horses were really starting to have fits. Everyone struggled to control their mounts. I turned to the archon’s trooper.
“Treason,” I called out loudly, “False invasion. You want to see a false invasion? Very well. You will all follow me, and I will show it to you.”
I looked up at Melina. “My lady, you should stay here. This is not a pretty sight to look upon.”
Melina vaulted off her skittish horse like a champion rider. “I am going,” she told me.
“Very well,” I said, looking at the rest of them. “Tie your horses to the trees. They will be here when you return. We are going for a walk.”
“You are under arrest—” the archon’s guard started to say.
I spun quickly on my feet. “That was not a request,” I said with a grim expression. “It was an order. If any of you try to flee or hurt me, you will not leave this forest alive. If you do not believe me, just try it. If you follow me, then no harm will come to you and you will learn the truth about this supposedly false invasion.”
I started walking. As I did, I clutched the crystal in my pocket and spoke in my mind: “Lykos, Lykina, Kypos, Kapria, Alkos, Alkina, all of you follow us at a distance. If I call out, come in and protect me from these fools. Do not hurt Melina or Iolaos. If any try to escape, they are yours. Aetos and Aerra, please fly overhead and ensure there is nothing in front of us, but stay out of sight. Keros and Kerina, stay here and watch the horses and the hut.”
A chorus of approvals flowed into my brain.
I led the group onward in silence. Once we entered the thick forest, we could hear noises from all directions as my friends walked out of sight of the party I led. They were quiet, but not silent. The sounds from my unseen friends made the others nervous.
“Those are my friends,” I said loudly. “They will follow us so none of you get any foolish ideas. If you do not try to hurt me or run away, they will not harm you. If you do try, you will not do so for long.”
We first came to the burned-out part of the forest, still smoldering and smelling of a recent fire. I saw them looking at it. “This is the fire the false invasion started,” I said sarcastically and walked through it.
One of the guards must have looked back and got a glimpse of one of my friends. “In the name of the gods, what is that?” he cried out like a hurt boy.
“That is just one of my friends,” I said. “I have many more of them.”
We walked until I came to the hill from which Philie and I had watched the Zilar. The smell of smoke and burnt human and animal flesh was still heavy in the air. I walked up the hill first and looked over its crest. All was as before. I turned to face the others. Some of them already had cloth covering their noses to block the odor.
“Here is the false invasion,” I said and pointed over the hill.
The others climbed the hill to get their first looks. There were moans and oaths to the gods. Most just dropped their mouths open in disbelief. They continued walking down. I looked up the hill and mentally called out.
“Old Ones, these people are from Korpolis. Many do not believe this invasion happened, so I am showing this place to them. Are there any Zilar around?”
“No, Alex, no one is here except you, us, and the dead. Let them look. Perhaps they will see and not do this again.”
“There is no one near you,” Aerra called to me.
I walked down and surveyed the burnt remains of the stone throwers. Much of the wood was ash. Most of the bodies were dust and ash with a few charred bones left. It was like a mass cremation. Between the first and second stone throwers was a body with a gold medallion of office. It looked like the one Zatart had worn. The gold was partially melted and its inscription was gone. I could not tell if it was Zatart because the body was burned to bare bones. I picked up the medallion and found the trooper who had tried to arrest me.
“Give this to the boy,” I said, not trying to hide my anger. “It is the medallion of the leader of this very real army.”
The trooper swallowed hard and took it without a word. I let them all walk around, looking to their hearts’ content. Some picked up swords. Others found silver pieces. There were many abandoned supplies in the camp.
I called to everyone, “By the time we get back, it will be too late to return to Korpolis today. Take what food you need from the camp and we will eat at the hut. We will leave for Korpolis tomorrow morning.”
There were fine preserved meats and other delectables in the camp for the officers. Most of these luxuries, along with a few skins of wine, found their way into the sacks of the guards and the others. I found an empty sack and put in some two-day-old bread, olive oil, cheese, and other things for dinner. I noticed the older man I did not know was looking intently at the dam, studying it carefully. I walked up to him.
“I am sorry, but I do not know your name,” I said.
The old man looked at me and beamed. “For now, my name, like those of your friends, I will keep to myself. I will say I represent the ethnarch. I will also say this was a brilliant plan.”
He looked over the site and shook his head, then spoke to me in a very precise voice. “First you block their water supply, so they cannot grow crops. That forces them to attack you before they are ready. Then you get them to attack you in a place where you can trap and destroy them. That is a first-rate strategy that any polemarch would be proud to call his own. And you have done this on your own, without outside help.” He spoke as if not believing it. “That is truly amazing. I will see the ethnarch hears about this. You are right; this archon’s grandson is a moros. Rather than arrest you, they should give you a gold crown of olive leaves.” He turned to me with a broad smile. “I think, Mage Alexio Sopholus, people will be telling this tale for years to come.”
I felt slightly embarrassed and uneasy. “Forgive me, but I had a lot of help from my friends. I cannot take credit for all of this.”
The older man looked around and nodded. “From the size of the boulders that hit the stone throwers, I would say you are friends with the Titans. No matter – I have seen enough.”
I let the rest wander a while longer before calling out, “We need to get back to my hut before dark. Before we go, does anyone have any questions about this false invasion?”
All I heard was laughter, not only from Melina, Iolaos, and the men of Korpolis, but also from the archon’s men. The walk back to my hut was more jovial and less concerned about those who followed us home.
That night, there was a festive party at the hut. With the food and wine taken from the Zilar, it was a nice feast, but I could not enjoy it. I kept thinking about Philie locked in the dungeon, but that I would fix the next day. Try as I wanted to, I could not force myself into a mood or even celebrate with the others.
One of my late teachers, Master Mage Tryphos, had once taught that after some great victory or event, following the celebrations comes a time of reflection on what has happened. In that reflective light, things may not look as wonderful as before. I was starting to feel that. It started when I took the medallion off the remains of Zatart. He was dead and I was at least partly responsible. The fact was I was partly responsible for all their deaths, no matter what the old man said. It made me feel ill. Magik was not supposed to be used like this.
Soon after dark, I excused myself from the drinking and shouting and walked back to my cave. I went inside and started to think. Just how many had I killed? I could not even count. What gave me the right to slaughter those people, most of whom the Zilar forced to be there against their will to begin with? Now their families would be without fathers, brothers, and sons — all because of me. I knew they would have gladly destroyed me, along with my friends, maybe even destroyed the vasíleio. Did that give me the right to take their lives? I knew the promise I had made to Malcor and my friends years before, but how far should I have taken that promise?
There was a knock on the door. I got up and opened it. Melina was standing there, still dressed in her riding breeches. She had a warm glow on her face.
“You should be at the party. Everyone, even the archon’s troops, is toasting you and your great victory.”
“Great victory,” I huffed. “Do you know that in the last few days, I have become the greatest mass killer in the history of the polis? I am responsible for all of those dead bodies you saw, and many more you did not. That is not what one should do with magik. I was taught to help and to protect, but in doing so, I feel I have become what I was supposed to stop.”
Melina’s face fell, and she came into my cave and closed the door behind her. She reached up and stroked my face lightly with her right hand, then smiled and softly spoke to me. “You stopped a group of people bent on destroying everything in their path. You have protected not only this forest, but Korpolis too. Every one of us, including me and my brother, owes you and your friends our lives. That army could have gone through this forest to Korpolis and easily broken down the walls. Then they would have done to us exactly what they did to Dysiasty and their people.”
That was true, I knew, but just because it was true did not make me feel better. “I am sorry. I just feel like a monster.”
“Well, don’t,” she said and then shook me. “I doubt the gods will blame you, and no one I know will. You did what needed to be done to save thousands. Those thousands have a right to live too, and you made sure they are safe, at least from this threat.”
“I just wish I could believe that for myself,” I said.
“Let me help,” she said and threw me on the bed. She then quickly undressed us both. At least for a while, the emptiness went away.
I did not even think until the next morning that the entire party must have known what happened between us. Making love in private is one thing. Making love to a noblewoman when more than a dozen people know of it is flouting social norms. It is not proper behavior. I felt embarrassed, but Melina did not seem to mind at all.
We made the trip to Korpolis by midday, mostly in silence. I took some time to infuse my crystal with energy. I was sure of only one thing: Philie would not spend another night in the dungeon. After I stabled my horse, the only thing I wanted to do was see the archon’s brat. I walked into the palace even while the others in my party were still in the stables. I saw the head servant.
“Where is the archon’s grandson?” I said, gritting my teeth.
“Mage Sopholus!” the head servant cried out. “He is in the meeting hall with the oligarch. He said they were not to be disturbed.”
“Too bad for him,” I said and walked right past him.
“Alex,” I heard from behind, “wait.” It was Melina, but I was not listening.
I walked into the antechamber that led to the meeting room. Inside was Maleos, who saw me and must have known what I was thinking.
“Mage Sopholus!” he shrieked. “No! They want to be alone. He has ordered your arrest.”
“That was his first mistake,” I growled. “His second was throwing my friend into the dungeon. He is about to regret both of them.”
“Please, Alex,” the mage cried out. “Remember the Mage Code. You can’t hurt him.”
“I will not hurt him unless he does something stupid,” I said and continued walking toward the closed bronze doors.
I heard a whisper from behind me. Maleos was invoking magik to use on me. I spun around and threw a small wind ball at the mage, knocking him back. “Do not even try it,” I told him bluntly. “Ask the others what I have done.”
I turned and kept walking toward the doors. I heard the old man in our party call out, “Maleos, no.”
I heard Maleos cry out in surprise, “Ennanus Xanphos!” The name sounded familiar, but I could not place it. They must have known each other.
I walked up to the doors and, with a shove, threw them open. In the middle of the room, standing over a map, were Cleon and the brat. They both looked up at me in shock.
“Alex?” Cleon called out in surprise.
“Lycus,” I called out. “I understand you want to arrest me for treason and lies about a false invasion. Well, here I am. Arrest me. You might want to ask your guards first about what is left of the invasion.”
I must have surprised the brat because his hand moved toward his sword. I walked right up to him and growled, “Moros, you arrested the one person trying to warn you. You are as stupid as you are immature. You as archon will be a disaster for all around us. Now release Philie or you will regret it for the rest of your very short life.”
The boy backed up and out came the sword. “Guards, arrest that man,” he shrieked.
“Release Philie,” I repeated, using a little magik this time on my voice.
“Never!” he cried out. “I will put both of you on the block. I will burn—”
“Energeia,” I called out and hit him with a force blast that knocked him across the room and into the painted marble wall. He hit it hard, and the sword dropped from his grip.
“Seize him!” I heard one of the brat’s guards command.
“Pyra!” I yelled, and in my right hand formed a blue fireball. I turned to face a large audience of people and soldiers. “I think not.”
“You miserable peasant!” the boy called out. “I am in charge here. I will order your immediate execution.”
“No, you will not,” a loud voice called out. It came from the old man. “You are not in command here. I am.”
The old man looked sternly at me. “Release your magik,” he ordered. “I say this in the name of the ethnarch.”
I cast the fireball upward and let it dissipate near the high ceiling.
“Good,” the old man said. “I am Ennanus Xanphos, the polemarch for the ethnarch of Argina. I am in charge here now. All of you, put your weapons away. There will be no violence here today.”
The other guards in the room, Iolaos included, came to attention. If this was correct, the old man was the senior strategos* for the land.
“You are not in charge here,” Lycus called out. “I have an official document signed by my grandfather, the archon, saying I am strategos here.”
“Not any longer,” the old man said. He reached into his robe and pulled out a folded parchment. “The ethnarch did not fully believe either you or Mage Sopholus, so he sent me to investigate. I sent the spy Lampus ahead to look and met him on the way here. He told me Mage Sopholus was correct in his evaluation of this invasion. I saw the result of that invasion myself. Mage Sopholus and his friends destroyed the Zilar invasion of the vasíleio. Destroyed it without the slightest help from you,” he said pointing at Lycus.
The old man held up the parchment for all to see. “The ethnarch also gave me this and told me to use it if I needed it. It is a document appointing me strategos if the invasion was real. It was real until this mage destroyed it. Rather than arrest this man and his friends, you should all get down on your knees and thank the gods they were here to save you.”
Lycus snatched the parchment from the old man’s hands and read it. As he did, his face looked as if he had swallowed sour wine. He threw the paper on the floor. “So be it, strategos,” he said, “But this man tried to kill me, and he will die for it.”
“Anoitios*,” Xanphos called out. “If this man wanted to kill you, you would be a pile of burnt ash like the remains of the Zilar army and their siege engines. Rather than arrest him, I should arrest you for utter incompetence and malfeasance in your office as strategos. The ethnarch will hear about this, I assure you. Now release the woman, Philie. She is innocent, as is this mage.”
I saw the brat’s face turn three shades of purple. “I will not release her!” he said, stamping his foot hard. “You have insulted me. My men and I are leaving. I leave the prisoner with the oligarch. He may do with her as he will.”
With that, the brat stormed out of the hall with his guards and Maleos close behind him. I heard him swearing loudly until he had left the palace. I turned to face Cleon.
“Oligarch Cleon,” I said respectfully. “I request the release of the prisoner Philie. She is innocent of the charges brought against her.”
Cleon turned and faced Iolaos. “Release the prisoner immediately,” he ordered.
“Gladly,” Iolaos said, and almost ran from the room.
Cleon hugged me. “How, by the gods, did you do this?” he asked.
“It is a long story,” I said meekly, “with many parts I cannot tell you because of my promise to my other friends, but I will tell you all I can.”
“I, too, would be interested in hearing this tale,” Xanphos said with a huge grin. “I may be old, but I am always interested in learning new tricks.”
“My thanks to all of you,” I said and bowed my head. “I am sorry that I lost my temper.”
“Considering the circumstances, you can be forgiven for that, Alex,” Cleon said. “Let the hall be prepared for a private banquet tonight. See that the warrior Philie is given a bath and clean clothes.” He looked at me and sniffed. “See to it that Mage Sopholus is given the same. Forgive me, friend, but you smell like burnt meat. It is awful.”
That I would not argue with.
 
CHAPTER TWELVE: INTERLUDE

After Philie had been freed from the dungeon, and Iolaos and I had persuaded her not to turn the archon’s brat into chopped meat, Cleon threw a banquet for both of us. Philie looked as surprised as the rest of them about what happened to the Zilar. I think she was more shocked that I had gotten the Zilar to flee. Even after I told her privately what had really happened, she still gave me a large amount of credit for the victory.
I never saw what had happened as a victory, just something unpleasant I had to do. I wrote a sealed report and sent it to Arch-Mage Herion with Xanphos when he left several days later. I outlined the battle’s events and how I felt about them. As the arch-mage for Argina and its ethnarch, Herion was my superior. He would tell me what to do and make any report to the Mage Council and the Megas Mage on Lantia that he deemed necessary.
For several days, the people lauded me in the streets as the savior of Korpolis, something I was very uncomfortable with. The Mage Code says any honors or rewards one receives must be accepted only with the deepest humility, lest the gods punish the mage for hubris. I thanked them all, but refused all gifts, especially a gold crown of olive leaves like what they give to contest winners. The only gifts I did accept were three new mage robes the Clothing Syntechnia* made for me. The Builders Syntechnia wanted to build me a new house in the forest. I turned them down. The cave was fine with me. Philie thought I was crazy, and so did Cleon and Melina, but I could not accept money or wealth for slaughtering people, no matter how noble the reason.
Philie and I stayed in the palace, where Cleon and Xanphos arranged five days of games in my honor. I judged only the music and poetry contests. Melina stayed by my side both day and night. If anyone disapproved of our now obvious relationship, no one said anything to us. To be honest, having her next to me at night was not difficult to get used to. Yes, I knew I was flouting morality and custom in Korpolis, but if Cleon, Melina, and I did not object, it was no one else’s affair. Iolaos and Philie also kept close company both day and night, and no one was stupid enough to confront them with any complaints of immorality. Although I liked being a hero, I did not delude myself with the notion that I had saved the polis. At best, I had only helped.
When I got back to my cave, I unpacked my things. Folded in with the mage robes was the gold crown of olive leaves with a note from Cleon saying I had more than earned the right to wear it. I looked at it almost in horror, but then suddenly an inspiration told me exactly what to do with it. I went down to the forge shop, took a hammer and nail, and then walked out into the forest and found a sturdy oak tree. I hammered the nail into the tree and hung the crown on it. I summoned all of my friends, including Philie and the Old Ones, and told them the crown belonged to all of them as a gift from the polis for helping me stop the Zilar. It seemed to me the right thing to do.
Some days later when the fields were ripe, Philie and I harvested the grain, rice, millet, apples, and cherries. The grain went into our bags, and we eventually turned it into flour at the mill. The apples and cherries we placed as best we could to preserve them. Many of our animal friends also liked them, so we gave them all a share. The weather turned cooler and soon winter set in. It rained more during the day, and at the tops of the higher mountains, snow started to form.
Only three things of note happened that winter. The first I will mention at length is the winter festival all poleis throughout Argina hold on Mid-Winter’s Day. Both Philie and I received an invitation from the ethnarch to attend the festival in Arginnia, the capital. I did not want to go, but Cleon and Melina, who were also invited, said it would be an insult to the ethnarch if I did not accept. Philie was much more eager to go than I was. We did note the invitation mentioned that the archon and his grandson were not invited. As a result, a party of fifteen of us gathered in Korpolis and rode to Arginnia on the main north-south road.
It was a journey of about eight days. With packhorses for supplies, we made up a nice party. We also traveled with a troop of heavily armed cavalrymen, including Philie and Iolaos, so no one bothered us. The only problem that came up was when we rode through the Polis of Peles on the main road. The oligarch there insisted on having a banquet for Philie and me. It appeared that the story of my so-called overwhelming and single-handed victory over the Zilar was making me into the new Odysseus. This was a notion I went out of my way to dispel.
The weather was dry and cool, which made sleeping on the ground pleasant. Farmers were preparing the fields for the next year. It looked like a good year. After a few days, we arrived at the gates of Arginnia, a polis about five times the size of Korpolis. The walls are tall and thick and patrolled by the Ethnarch’s Guard, numbering about a thousand.
Once we announced our names, they treated us as honored guests. The guard escorted us into the inner compound behind another set of walls protecting the royal grounds. Cleon’s palace can easily hold fifty, but many buildings that size or larger surrounded the ethnarch’s palace. The ethnarch’s guards housed our whole party in one such outer building near the Pantheon. They staffed the building with servants and slaves to take care of our needs. We arrived a day early and had the place almost to ourselves. The staff washed our clothing for us before the start of the festival. Soon the three other archons of the vasíleio arrived along with a collection of tetrarchs and oligarchs that filtered in. Polemarch Xanphos informed me that I would be speaking about the Zilar at a symposium on the second night of the five-night festival. That alone made me anxious. I made a point of not mixing with the others even though the other nobles invited me to many private parties. All the attention made me uneasy.
The night before the festival started, a house servant told me I had a guest. I went to meet him and found a middle-aged man dressed in the robes of a mage and wearing the silver ring of a master mage. I bowed in respect.
“I am Master Mage Cronos, in service to Arch-Mage Herion,” he said formally. “The arch-mage requests your presence alone. He says he wants to see you immediately.”
“Very well,” I said. “Please lead the way.”
I followed a few steps behind him. As soon as we left the building, he led me to the tall marble columns of the Pantheon. The height of the building was at least fifty podia. Each god had his or her own private temple in the polis, but it was in the Pantheon that the priests performed the major state rituals. In this way, there would be no show of favor to any one of the gods or goddesses. As I walked inside, I was surrounded by huge statues of the twelve major deities with an altar built before each. Behind them were many other statues of the other deities or demigods of our faith. Included were the cult statues of our current ethnarch, Syagros, and his father Pallas, whom the priests had already invoked as a god.
We walked through the main hall and back into the depths of the temple. These were the living quarters of the archiereas*, who was in charge of the complex and responsible for performing the rituals to the gods at the right time, in the correct place, and in the proper manner. He acted as the chief religious authority for the entire vasíleio. We passed several priests hurriedly performing their tasks. I saw two men in mage robes before Cronos led me into a simple room. There were two tables, a raised chair, and several lit torches. Around one table were four couches for eating. Sitting in the elevated chair was a man of about sixty years, dressed in a black mage’s robe with a red cap and a silver ring. This was the uniform of an arch-mage. I drew near to within speaking distance and bowed deeply.
“I am Alexio Sopholus,” I said simply.
“Yes, I know,” an old, yet firm voice answered. “I remember you as a boy, from when Malcor brought you here. He said you would grow into a powerful mage. In this, as in most other things, he was correct.”
“I am grateful for your praise, Arch-Mage,” I said humbly. “How may I serve you?”
“For one thing, you can stop walking around the ethnarch’s palace grounds looking like a little boy who got caught with his hand in the sweets jar. You are a mage, a powerful mage, and you have performed one of the greatest feats of magik in the last fifty years. Yet, you walk around acting almost ashamed of it.”
Again I bowed and said in a low tone, “I am sorry, Arch-Mage, but I do not feel proud of what I have done, nor worthy of all the praise they have heaped upon me. I am responsible for many deaths and much destruction. This is not something I feel people should praise me for. I am glad to accept their gratitude, but not like this.”
“That is Malcor’s teaching,” the arch-mage spat. “He never believed a mage should accept any praise or reward. I disagree, but I do understand your dilemma; a mage should be humble before his fellow man and the gods. However, he should not avoid honest appreciation for a job well done.”
“With respect, Arch-Mage, I had much help in this task. That help I can never fully acknowledge due to promises I made to my companions of the forest and to Malcor. That is important, but what bothers me greatly is that I am responsible for hundreds of deaths. How can I take pride in that? That was not why Malcor and the master mages spent so many years teaching me this craft. I am supposed to help man, not precipitate a slaughter.”
I heard the arch-mage take a deep breath before rising. “Cronos, get some wine for us and our guest. Mage Sopholus, please drink with me.”
“As you wish,” I said and followed him to a set of couches surrounding a small table.
I reclined on the rightmost couch. Soon afterward Cronos came in and took the left couch, while the arch-mage lay in the center. A servant came in and gave me a plain clay kylix*. He filled it from a pitcher and served Cronos and the arch-mage. We all drank. The wine was not watered, but strong. I was surprised to get a drink like this in the rooms of the arch-mage.
“Better,” the arch-mage said, drinking about half his kylix. He looked right at me. “I am happy you are not parading around like the cock of the yard at your accomplishments. However, you should not feel bad about them. You must know your actions have saved hundreds to thousands. Yes, many died. Yes, you are partly or fully responsible for their deaths. That does not mean you are guilty of a crime. We allow self-defense for all men, and you defended this land against a significant threat. I cannot tell you what to feel. What I will tell you, as arch-mage, the senior mage of this vasíleio, is that you have not violated the Mage Code as I see it.”
The arch-mage took another long sip of wine and drained the bowl before continuing. “We have even consulted the Oracle about this, and she has told us the gods do not hold you responsible. She said through the temple priests that the gods are pleased with what you have done. They are even more pleased you have not degenerated into a braggart about your deeds, as so many others would have. You have upheld the Mage Code and are deserving of the accolades given to you. Now stop acting like a condemned criminal.”
“But it was not anything I did,” I tried to explain. “My many friends helped me, and frankly the Zilar took me for granted and acted stupidly.”
“It does not matter, Alexio,” the arch-mage countered firmly. “I know all about your friends. Malcor kept few secrets from me. It also does not matter that the Zilar almost fell into your hands. The polemarch knows that much. What matters is without you and your actions, this land would be undergoing an invasion. Now accept this fact and live with the consequences. I tell you truly, no one here or anywhere else will ever blame you for this. If you want to blame yourself, I cannot stop you, but you are foolish to do so.”
Cronos sat up on his couch. “If I may, Arch-Mage?” he said. The arch-mage nodded and Cronos continued.
“Alex, in two nights you will tell your tale to the ethnarch and the other senior nobles of this vasíleio. Just tell your tale simply and give as many details as you can, but both the arch-mage and I agree certain things are to remain a secret, like the identity of your friends. We feel there are other forces at work here that many people would not understand. I have already told the polemarch you cannot divulge the secrets of your forest. He has informed the ethnarch of this. After the festival, the ethnarch will have a surprise for you. What that surprise is, I promised I would not tell.”
“Now what?” I wondered.
“Accept it, Alex, and enjoy the festival,” the arch-mage ordered.
That ended the conversation. We drank wine and made small talk until I felt a buzz in my head. At least I felt better. I had no trouble sleeping that night.
On the first day of the festival, the athletic games went on all day. The winners received real olive branches and olive crowns from the ethnarch’s private grove. That night there was a general celebration. The second day held the military games for showing off one’s fighting skills. Both Philie and Iolaos entered archery and spear-throwing contests. They both made it to the finals but did not win. That night I gave my talk after the banquet. I stood in front of the nobles, dignitaries, and game contestants, and I recounted the tale with Philie’s help, leaving out several key facts that I told the audience an oath prevented me from revealing. The arch-mage added a few comments and confirmed to the others that there were certain details I could not speak of. I made my story as complete as possible and the questions were few. There was general praise from everyone to both Philie and me for what we had done. No one blamed or criticized us for anything, and no one cared a bit about the Zilar who died.
After the fifth night, just after the last banquet, the ethnarch sent a request to see Philie and me. We arrived in his reception chamber, which was filled with the nobility of our vasíleio. The ethnarch rose from his seat and spoke loudly with a deep voice to those in the hall.
“My magistrates and people of Argina, I wish to call to your attention the actions of the Warrior Philie of Syrina and Mage Alexio Sopholus of Korpolis. It is to them we owe our thanks for the recent defeat of the Zilar. This invasion was the greatest threat to our land since Argina was unified in the time of my grandfather.”
With that announcement, those in the hall gave us a sincere ovation of thanks for our actions. I felt slightly embarrassed, but I smiled and bowed.
“Would the Warrior Philie come forward?” the old man said.
To my surprise and hers, the ethnarch gave Philie a new spear, shield, bow and arrows, and uniform of the Ethnarch’s Guard. Most importantly, he gave her the rank of Lochagos* in his forces. This was important since that rank meant she could take command of certain military units in an emergency, and no one except the ethnarch could arrest or imprison her.
He then called me forward and told me to get down on my knees. After I swore an oath to the gods that I would carry out my duties faithfully, the ethnarch gave me the title of Magistrate for Argina, reporting directly to him. That meant I could act as a judge throughout the land on matters that came before me. I could also express my opinions on any matter of my choosing to the proper authorities. Technically, this made me a noble of the lowest rank.
As recommended by the arch-mage, I accepted the honor and thanked everyone. After much enjoyment and congratulations, we all went back to our beds late. In my bed was Melina, who thanked me in her own way. We had not slept together on our journey there, or in the ethnarch’s palace. It was one thing to flout social norms at your home and with the approval of your family; it was another thing altogether to do so as guests of the ethnarch. We maintained proper decorum as any honorable guest would show.
We left the next day and traveled home without problems. Once back in Korpolis, we rested for two days, and then Philie and I returned to the forest. The rest of the winter went by without any further sign of the Zilar.
During this time, Philie and I visited the site of the Zilar battle several times and recovered anything of value. We found some flour, some preserved or salted meat in sealed boxes, and a few weapons — mostly good bows and arrows. Finally, we took every silver coin we could find – about four hundred. We found no gold, and we left the copper coins.
At the end of winter or the start of spring, the second event of note occurred. Philie and I were getting our small plots ready for a spring planting. We were outside when I heard Aetos call me.
“Several men come from the west. They are driving carts, with two men in each one,” he told me.
“Are they armed?” I asked.
“Yes, but they are not dressed like the others,” the great eagle said. “It is like how men traveled on the path before the Zilar came.”
“Merchants,” I said aloud so Philie would hear.
She looked up at me. “Is there trouble?”
“I am not sure,” I said. “It could be merchants from Dysiasty coming this way.”
“Or more Zilar spies,” Philie grunted and went inside to put on her armor. I went to my cave to get the Speaking Stone and to put on my mage robe.
We concealed ourselves in the orchard and waited. Soon I could see in the distance some eight carts, each pulled by four asses. As they got closer, I made out two men in each cart. In the back of the cart were large salt blocks. It reminded me of how the salt merchants used to travel when I was a boy here.
“They look like salt merchants,” Philie said.
I was not so sure, so I called my friends. “Many men come from the west in carts. I will talk to them, but if they try to hurt us, then attack them.”
I concentrated, drew power from the realms, and infused the crystals with energy. In the distance, I heard the bushes creak as our friends took their positions. I moved farther toward the east.
“I am going to let them go by the hut and stop them at the far end of the orchard. That way they should not see our home,” I told everyone.
I waited until they were nearly at the east end of the orchard, where Lampus had tied his horse, and then used magik to call out. “Khaire*. Please stop.”
All eight carts stopped together. All the men who were not driving the carts stood up, brandishing bows with arrows.
“Put your weapons downs. I am not here to hurt you,” I told them.
“Who are you?” the lead driver called out. All the bows were still ready.
I decided to answer them politely. “I am Mage Sopholus, the caretaker of this forest. Who are you and what are you doing here?”
Silence from the group — and their bows did not come down. It was time to use a stronger argument. I concentrated my power and formed a small fireball that I directed alongside the line of the carts, where it dissipated harmlessly next to the fifth cart.
“I said put down your weapons. If I wanted you dead, you would already be in Hades.”
The head driver handed his reins to the man next to him and jumped off the cart. The others put down their weapons. I felt safe enough to walk out into the open. The driver saw me and approached slowly.
“Are you the Great Mage who defeated the Zilar?” he asked in a frightened voice.
“My friends and I defeated the Zilar, yes,” I told him.
The man fell to his knees as if struck by an axe and prostrated himself in front of me. “Oh, Great Mage, forgive us for disturbing you. We are salt merchants from Dysiasty, seeking to sell our wares in Korpolis.”
I was shocked, even angered by the display of worship. “Get up, man,” I said. “I am no god. You do not have to bow to me. Look me in the face and tell me who you are.”
The man rose hesitantly and looked at me. I could see his palms and face were still sweating. He stammered as if afraid I could strike him down with a glance. “I – I am Aetes of the Salt Guild of Dysiasty, or at least what is left of Dysiasty.”
“I thought the Zilar still held the polis,” I said.
“No, Great Mage,” he said. “After you defeated the Zilar and killed Zatart, the other Zilar fled back to the west. The desert tribesmen fled the next day. We few remaining citizens are all who are left. We are trying to sell salt to gather money for the rebuilding.”
“How many of you are left?” I asked.
“There are no more than eight hundred, Great Mage. Between those killed during the invasion and those killed by the Zilar, there are not many of us left.”
They were poor and needed help. That gave me an idea. “Wait here for a moment until I return.”
I walked away, keeping an eye fixed on the other men, and disappeared into the orchard. At about a hundred podia, I came across Philie and the others, and told them what Aetes had said.
“It makes sense,” Philie said. “I’d tell them to go and tell their story to the oligarch. Maybe they can get help from the ethnarch to rebuild.”
“I will also tell them to stop back here,” I said. “I think we should give them the silver coins we picked up from the Zilar. They deserve them more than we do.”
There was general agreement on that point from all my friends. I thanked all of them, then returned to Aetes and told him to see the oligarch. I also told them to stop here on the way back. They left more relieved than anything else. I was happy the Zilar had finally gone from our view. Now, if they would only stay away.
One more personal thing happened that I will relate. Two days after the salt traders passed by us again to return to Dysiasty, both Iolaos and Melina rode to our hut. Melina was wearing riding breeches again instead of the usual court dress. She also had a bow and arrows with her. Iolaos was wearing a light uniform with a bow and arrows and a short sword. Our friends told us of their approach and we met them. Melina jumped off her horse and went to her saddlebag. She took out a parchment and a small box.
“Yesterday we got this message from a dispatch rider. It is from Arch-Mage Herion. He said to give this parchment and box to you. The messenger said you would know how to open it. It has no key.”
“It is a mage lock,” I said. “It can only be opened by a metal mage.”
“The messenger said to read the parchment first,” Melina said.
I broke the seal on the scroll and read it. The message was short.
Alex,
I have just heard from both the Megas Mage and the Mage Council. They made you this gift. Knowing your reluctance to accept any type of reward, allow me to simply order you to accept it. Everyone except you knows you have earned it. We are all proud of you.
H
I looked at the box and concentrated my power on the metal facing. As with the rock wall in Malcor’s cave, if one applied force and removed heat from the center pin, it would contract and fall out. The box would then open. I did that and heard a click. Opening the box, I found another parchment and a silver ring with the engraving of Apollo on it, the symbol of a master mage. I hesitantly put on the ring and read the paper. It was a diploma:
Let it be known that Mage Alexio Sopholus has been promoted to the rank of master mage and is entitled to all the privileges according to one of such rank. So, let it be pronounced.
Under the brief note were the seals of both the Mage Council and the Megas Mage himself.
I stood there aghast. As far as I knew, there were only two other master mages in all of Argina other than the arch-mage. I could now teach magik if I so desired. I read the notes to all the others and sat down on the stump, not believing what I was seeing. With this rank and my appointment as magistrate, no one but the ethnarch or the arch-mage could order me around.
There was cheering from the others, but I was still in shock. Even Malcor never attained the rank of master mage. I did not care what the arch-mage said, I did not believe I deserved this honor, but Herion had ordered me to accept it. I just said a silent prayer that I would prove worthy of everyone’s confidence in me. We feasted that night and I even allowed myself the luxury of drinking some not-so-well-watered wine. It was late when Iolaos went into the hut with Philie and I went to my cave with Melina.
Everything had become wonderful in my life this year. I was very happy and hoped it would continue.
It is amazing just how wrong even a master mage can be.
 
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: CHANGES

Both Iolaos and Melina left at midmorning, and Philie and I went back to preparing our fields for planting. That evening, after a meal of preserved vegetables and bread, we sat down outside. Philie was strangely quiet, but after the meal, she spoke up. “Iolaos has asked me to come to Korpolis and join the Guard there. He has also asked me to marry him.”
That struck me as odd. “I thought Amazons did not marry because they would have to serve a man.”
“That is true,” she said and shrugged her huge shoulders. “But as I said before, I am no longer an Amazon. I said so to Iolaos, who told me he was not looking for some woman to pamper him, but a partner to help him with his duties, and someone to bear his children. He also told me Cleon said he would officially make him polemarch of Korpolis.”
“Being the wife of the polemarch would be a great honor,” I told her sincerely. “I can think of no one who deserves it more than you.”
“Thank you, but I have not decided yet,” she said and looked into the deep forest. “This place is interesting. How many men or women are friends with animals bigger than they are, or live near someone who can call down power that would rival the gods? If I go, I will miss them and you.”
“Thank you,” I said, “but you know how I dislike being compared to one of the gods. I will not court their displeasure by going down that road.”
Philie let out a long breath and shook her head. “Still the humble servant,” she said in disapproval. “Then again, I suppose it is good that a man with your power is meek and mild. I hate to think what someone like Zatart would have done with your ability.”
“The less said about that, the better,” I muttered, trying to change the subject. “When will you decide?”
“By Cleon’s wedding day,” she said. “Now, what about you and Melina?”
“I could ask her to marry me,” I said. “With the ranks the ethnarch and arch-mage gave me, I am now of her class. I am not sure how she would like to live here. Melina is a polis person, and out here there will be no one to talk to, not even our friends. She is not a sensitive, so she could never get to know our friends as you have. Also, I do not know how she would adapt to them or they to her.”
Philie took a drink from the wineskin, then told me, “You should ask her anyway. Do it for no other reason than to settle the issue.”
Philie made a great deal of sense. “At Cleon’s wedding, I will do so.”
The spring brought increasingly warm weather to our home. The number of salt caravans from Dysiasty increased to four. Each one brought news of people trying to get crops sown and fields watered. The ethnarch sent a party of twenty to Dysiasty to see what they could do to rebuild the town. We saw them off and wished them luck. We got our small planting in. All around us, the forest gave birth to new life. The kings and queens of the forest were like me, sterile, but those around them renewed the forest so the continuing struggle of life and death would go on as long as the world existed.
A day before Cleon’s wedding, both Philie and I went into town. I took half a mina* of gold dust to a moneychanger I knew to convert it into silver drachma. I let Philie buy some gifts for the new couple; one thing I am no good at is selecting presents. We bought a nice wine serving set and a silver tray.
Tetrarch Theron was there as the father of the bride. Representatives from the other oligarchs in the eparchia came to the wedding. The archon or his brat did not come or even send a message of congratulations. No one was broken-hearted at that. The usual ceremony was performed by the high priest of Korpolis, followed by the usual banquet, which resulted in the usual number of guests getting drunk. Not much got broken, and there were only a few minor fistfights. Overall, it was a fairly mild celebration.
That night I slipped into bed and waited for Melina to appear. She did and slipped in next to me. After filling our passion, we talked.
“You know, I was thinking,” I told her. “I could ask your brother for your hand, but that would mean you would live in the woods with me. It would also mean you would get to know my friends.”
“I was thinking about the same thing, Alex,” she said, cuddling me. “I would like to come live with you, but living alone and without children is not a life I want. I am afraid that if I could not talk to them as you do, your friends would not accept me. Besides, now I have other things on my mind. There is a problem with Cleon.”
“Why, is something wrong?” I asked.
“I am not sure. Like you, Cleon can be like the Sphinx about some things. I know he got a message yesterday that bothered him. I do not know what it was about.”
I had no idea, either, so I laid back on the bed to rest. Melina lay flat against me. We both fell asleep and I was happy, as I always am when she sleeps beside me.
I was not happy when I heard a loud clamoring from inside the palace just before dawn. There were shouts and lots of movement from the palace entrance. Melina got up and took the secret passage back to her room. I jumped up and hurriedly dressed, then made my way into the main throne chamber, where I saw a familiar face. It was Maleos, but he was not dressed in mage clothing. He was in dirty, mud-spattered riding clothes and he was not alone. An older boy was with him.
He turned and saw me.
“Alexio Sopholus, thank the gods I have found you,” he said, panting.
Cleon burst into the room, not looking pleased about his interrupted wedding night. “What is going on here?” he shouted.
Maleos bowed and spoke up. “Oligarch, I bring grave news. Archon Leodes is dead, and his grandson is now archon.”
“So?” Cleon growled. “Is that any reason to wake my palace after a wedding feast?”
“Oligarch, please forgive me,” Maleos went on. “This is Kreon, younger son of Dellious of Erinus, brother of the former archon. Both his father and older brother are dead. They were killed in their house, along with his two sisters, his mother, and all the servants, by so-called bandits. In reality, it was loyal troops sent by Lycus who killed them.”
By now, the other tetrarchs and oligarchs were entering the room, having been jolted out of bed by all the noise. I asked Maleos to repeat what he had just said. A profound feeling of shock reverberated around the room.
“How did you escape?” I asked young Kreon.
“I was with Maleos when they came. We slipped out of Erinus and rode for here,” he explained.
“When did the bandits come?” I asked.
“After midnight,” Maleos said.
I looked back at Cleon — he saw the point I was making. “Very well. Now what do you want here?” the oligarch asked directly.
Maleos blurted out, “We want to put ourselves under the protection of the master mage and magistrate for the ethnarch. His power extends to the entire vasíleio.”
Now everyone looked at me. Maleos was right. Their statement made this suddenly my problem, something I did not need at all. I knew the stock answer from my training at the academy. Studies of law and court procedures were parts of a mage’s education for situations when one is asked to fulfill the duties of a magistrate.
“Are you fleeing arrest?” I asked so all could hear. “Have you been charged with a crime? Answer truthfully now.”
“No, Master Mage,” Maleos answered firmly. “By all the gods, I swear it. We left before Lycus could bring any charges against us. If we had waited for that to happen, we would both be dead.”
That I believed. “Very well. Since you claim a senior magistrate is an accomplice to this act, I must direct you to the ethnarch. I order you both to go immediately to Arginnia, present yourselves to the ethnarch, and tell him your story. He has the authority and the power to address your concerns. I suggest you leave now before any more unfortunate events occur.”
I looked around at a group of nods, especially from Tetrarch Theron. “I agree,” he said. “That is the law.”
“Give them two fresh horses and send them on their way,” Cleon said.
Several of the guards showed the two out of the palace. I went to a table, picked up a piece of parchment and a pen, and started to write quickly. I told the ethnarch these two might have been involved in a plot against Lycus. I also told him it seemed a great coincidence that bandits murdered two of the closest heirs to the archon so soon after his grandfather’s death. I suggested he hear their story. I signed it and sealed it closed with my master mage ring. I ordered a guard to take it to the two travelers with instructions to deliver my message unopened to the ethnarch. Both were gone before it was fully light.
“This matter is settled,” I told the wedding guests. “We should all try to get some rest.”
That was my way of telling our guests the show was over. I did not want to discuss anything else openly lest it filter back to the brat in one form or another.
“Master Mage Sopholus, can you please come to see me about a private matter?” Cleon asked.
I looked at the approaching dawn and snorted. “Might as well. I doubt any of us are going to get more sleep tonight.”
We went to his private office, where he closed the door but still spoke in whispers.
“I think Lycus decided to get rid of all rival claimants,” Cleon said.
“What were Kreon and the mage doing together in the middle of the night?” I added. “I doubt Maleos was teaching him geometry.”
“It does not matter, and this fits with other news I have received. I want to talk to you privately, but not until our guests leave,” Cleon said, looking out the window. “We might as well eat and start the day.”
I sniffed the air. “I recommend a bath first,” I said.
I spent the day talking to my friends in the town and ordered some supplies for delivery. That afternoon, both Philie and Iolaos tracked me down at the palace.
“Can we talk?” Philie asked.
I directed them to an unused study room. I had a funny feeling I knew what they were going to say.
“Alex,” Philie said sweetly, “I have decided to marry Iolaos and take a position here in the polis.”
I nodded, stood, and kissed Philie on the cheek — after she leaned over — and then shook Iolaos’s hand. “I wish you both all the happiness.”
“I will leave you the hut and everything in it except my personal belongings,” Philie went on.
That was nice of her since it all belonged to me anyway, I felt like saying, but did not. “Very well. Just come back for your things. You might want to say goodbye to our friends,” I suggested.
“I will go back with you and say goodbye,” Philie said. “They will be the one thing I will miss.”
Nice to know I was so appreciated. So be it, I said to myself.
I spent the next day finishing my tasks and buying what I needed. It was late afternoon when half a dozen riders wearing the archon’s uniform came to the palace. I did not need the magik to conjure what this was about, so I let myself into the audience room where Cleon was sitting in his magistrate’s chair. The leader of the patrol was the guard who had tried to arrest me before. I think his name was Polyibus.
“Oligarch Cleon, Archon Lycus orders you to apprehend the two traitors known as Kreon son of Dellious and Maleos the Mage on charges of murder and treason.”
“I see,” Cleon said. “I am sorry, but this message is too late. The two passed through here two days ago looking to see Magistrate and Master Mage Alexio. He sent them to the ethnarch.”
The guard looked at me in obvious anger. “You sent two condemned criminals to see the ethnarch? That is treason!” he yelled.
“How so?” I calmly replied. “Until this moment we were not aware of any charge against either one. In fact, I specifically asked Maleos if they had been charged with a crime. Mage Maleos said no, and I detected no falsehood in his reply. Another point: since they have not been tried, how can they be condemned or considered traitors?”
The guard turned to look at me. This was not going as he had planned. “And who are you to decide anything?” he growled.
“Very well, I will explain,” I said, like a parent admonishing a bad child. “The ethnarch has appointed me a magistrate for the vasíleio. The Megas Mage has also given me the rank of master mage. Both honors were recent, so the archon may not yet know of these facts. Coming to me for judgment, both men complained to me of the deaths of Dellious and his family. Since part of their complaint concerns a senior magistrate, the law requires me to have them see the ethnarch for a decision. This is what I told them. The archon can confirm this by asking the other tetrarchs who were here. I suggest you hurry back to the archon and tell him to send formal charges to the ethnarch, along with any proof of guilt. A trial will be held and then a fair and proper judgment will be rendered as the law dictates.”
I could see Cleon break out into a huge smile and motion with his left hand toward me. “My learned friend, I believe, is correct. If you wish, you may stay here overnight, or I can supply you with fresh horses. I believe the archon should be notified of these events as soon as possible.”
The guard’s face flushed and he turned and stormed out the door. “The horses, if you please,” he said curtly on the way out of the room.
Cleon ordered it and soon the six men were gone. They took the road back to Erinus and to the brat. I was afraid they would ride south to catch Kreon and Maleos and eliminate the problem firsthand. As soon as we were alone, I approached Cleon.
“I do not like where this is going,” I told him. “The brat may come down on you and the other tetrarchs. He has the power to order your arrest on any charge he desires. This is starting to feel more like a praxikopima* than a succession.”
Cleon nodded. “I agree, but no brat is going to make me abandon my magistrate’s chair. My father held it for thirty-five years and my grandfather for forty. He will not frighten me away. However, I could see how he might go after my family. I have also received word of a possible plot by him against me. When are you leaving for the forest?”
“Tomorrow morning,” I said.
“Stay an extra day. I have to make preparations,” he said.
“I will do as you ask,” I told him.
I spent the rest of the day making my preparations and arranging deliveries. Cleon, his bride, and Melina ate together that night and made it clear they wanted privacy. I ate with Iolaos and Philie in the tavern and had two mugs of their ale to wash down the spiced lamb shank. I must say my head was light when I left.
The discussion went on for a while, so Melina did not come to my bed; I awoke late and saw the light in their private room still burning. The next morning Iolaos, Philie, and I were summoned to the oligarch’s private quarters, where the doors were closed behind us and guarded by troops who were placed in such a way that they could not overhear what was said inside. The oligarch, his wife, and Melina were all there.
“Thank you all for coming,” Cleon said. “Events have occurred to make me think the archon may make a move against me and against the other tetrarchs of the eparchia. Tetrarch Theron has received a request from the archon for information about any irregular practices by either my father or me. It also hinted that Lycus asked the other tetrarchs the same question. In that message was also a command for Theron not to pass this message on to me. This Theron has done anyway in secret. I learned of it just before the wedding and it has forced me to make preparations.”
“It sounds like he wants to put his own people in positions of power,” I said, “but why the secrecy? An archon can remove and replace any magistrate in the eparchia.”
“Only for cause,” Cleon said. “Treason, malfeasance, nonfeasance, bribery and any other major crime are grounds for dismissal. You cannot just dismiss a magistrate because you do not like him.”
“That is true,” I said, “but anyone can bring charges against someone.”
Cleon nodded and went on. “For that reason, I have decided to make preparations to move my family out of the polis in case Lycus tries to dismiss me by force.”
I did not expect that, but Cleon was right. We had sent the brat’s people away, and that was not going to endear either of us to the archon. “So, what is your plan?” I asked.
“I will arrange to have my wife and Melina smuggled out of the palace. We have ways out of the polis that are not known to anyone outside the family. They will make their way through the forest to you.”
I already knew strangers wandering alone in that forest at night would not have much of a chance for survival. “Send Philie with them,” I suggested. “She knows what is in that forest and can deal with it. I will make arrangements so anyone with Philie will be well protected.”
“I agree,” Philie said.
“Very well,” Cleon said and turned toward me. “You and Philie will leave tomorrow as planned. When she returns to start her duties, I will appoint her as the guard to my wife and sister.”
“You should come too, Cleon,” I said. “If Lycus is bold enough to kill his own family, then killing an oligarch will be nothing to him. All of you should make your way toward my hut. Anyone who tries to follow you will be in for a short and final surprise. My friends will be on the lookout for you and will bring you to me.”
“I will not run from Lycus,” Cleon insisted.
“Then you will die here on your throne,” I said bluntly. Cleon glared at me; this was not what an oligarch expects to hear from his subjects. “With me, you at least have a chance to regain your office. We can always appeal to the ethnarch.”
Cleon just continued to glare at me, but he said nothing.
The next day Philie and I found ourselves with several horses laden with the things I had purchased. A few other horses also held wrapped items I had not ordered. We led the horses through the polis gate and back down the road. We got back after midday and unpacked the horses. The unknown boxes were clothing for Melina and Theresa, mostly older working clothes and some personal items. Nothing to show they were royalty. We put them in the empty spare room. By the time we had gotten everything ready, it was near dark. That was the easy part. Now came the hard part.
“I don’t see any point in postponing this. You should talk to our friends,” I told Philie.
“I suppose so.” Philie sighed. “This is the one part I do not want to do.”
I summoned my friends and we all met outside. Even one of the Old Ones came.
“Philie will be leaving us,” I told them. “She has been given a post in the polis. She will also marry Iolaos. You have seen him here before.”
Philie touched each one of my friends and then stood in front of them, obvious tears in her eyes. “I am sorry, but my life has taken a new path and I must leave you. I like you all. You have all been kind to me and I will miss you. One day, I hope I can bring my children here to meet you, so they can understand as I do.”
This was a shock to them, but just as they had accepted my departure all those years before, they accepted Philie’s. The next part was a lot more difficult. My friends do not understand the vagaries of politics. The idea of people stabbing each other in the back for power and money is alien to them. I simply told them there might be another invasion of the polis and if so, Melina, whom they already knew, and my friends might have to flee through the forest with Philie. If that happened, I said, they should bring Melina and the others here.
It was then the Old One spoke up.
“Recently, others of my kind have seen fires on the northern shore. We have not seen them there before.”
“Is the Northern Forest burning?” I asked.
“No,” the deep voice answered. “The forest is to the east of the mountains; these fires are to the west. There are also people riding from the north down to the mountain gap.”
I knew that to the west of the Central Mountains there was nothing but desert. The northern coast west of the mountain was barren except for some scrub brush near the Northern Sea. As for the Northern Gap, no one goes there. It is a narrow path through the mountains. It runs from a hilly and rocky part of the eparchia and opens onto barren desert in the west. That got my interest. “Why is that?” I asked.
“We think it is man. We want you to look,” the voice said.
I looked up at the faceless torso. “How?” I shrugged. “It is all barren desert from here to the shore or the Northern Gap. There is no food, wood, or water in that place. It will take days to reach there and it is completely in the open. I cannot carry enough supplies to get there and back alive.”
Philie looked at me, wondering what was happening. I handed her the Speaking Stone so she could understand and repeated what the Old One had said.
“Just who would go there?” she asked. “Even in Syrina, they call the north shore of Argina west of the mountains ‘The Lost Coast.’”
“Someone has come,” the Old One said. “We need Alex to see what this is.”
“Is there a way to get there?” I asked.
“We can carry you through the mountains,” the voice told me. “We know of paths no man has ever used. In the mountains there is water, but no food a man can use. It will take several days to do this.”
I wanted to say no, yet when I had needed help, the Old Ones had been there. They were mostly responsible for the accolades I had received. It was time to repay that debt. This was also part of my duties as a caretaker. I would need time to prepare, however.
“Very well. I will go with you. I will need two days to get ready,” I said.
“You should have help,” Lykos added. “One of us should go with you.”
“I should go with you,” Philie argued.
“No,” I said. “Philie, you need to get back to Korpolis. The others are waiting for you and you have other more important duties to attend to. As for Lykos, there is nothing in the hills for you to eat either. I am not going to see you starve to help me.”
Both of them started to object before Kypos called out, “Kapria and I have traveled in the mountains before with Malcor. There is food there for us. We will go with Alex.”
“I have also gone into the mountains with Malcor,” Alkos said. “I will go with Kypos, and the others can stay here.”
“I do not like this, Alex,” Philie added. “I still think I should go.”
“The woman is loyal,” the Old One said with admiration. “Alex is right. We can carry one human; taking two will make it harder to travel unseen.”
“I agree with the Old One, Kypos, and Alkos,” I said. “This is my decision, and I will take the two of them. Besides, if the polis is invaded, Philie will need your help to protect those who escape. The rest of you can help her if that happens while I am away.”
That settled the argument. There were acceptance and quiet from the others. “Very well. I will leave in two days’ time at sunrise,” I told the others. “Keros, Philie will need her horse. She can take back the other packhorses with her things.”
“I will do this,” the unicorn said with a nod of his great white head.
The others went away, Philie went to her hut, and I spent a sleepless night planning in my head.
The next morning as Philie was packing, I asked her to follow me. I took her to the tree where I had nailed the golden crown.
“You see that tree there?” I said and pointed to a tree near the one with the crown.
“Yes,” she said.
I walked over, took out the Speaking Stone, and started to dig. “In case something happens while I am away, I am going to bury the Speaking Stone here. That way you will be able to speak more easily with our friends. If I lock it away in my cave, only a mage will be able to get it.”
“Good idea,” she said and then took out the fighting knife I had made her.
She walked over to the tree with the crown and made three marks on the trunk. “In case someone steals the crown, those are Amazon markings we use to find our way through unknown lands.”
“I will not be gone that long,” I said.
Philie turned to me. “Mages are bad liars,” she said sternly. “You are not hiding the Speaking Stone for this trip. You are hiding it in case you do not come back.”
She was right, and I should have known better than to try to fool her. I nodded. “We all have our duties,” I said, “and no one has ever promised we will live through them. Tell Melina if that happens.”
“I was going to do that anyway,” she said. “I am also going to tell her about our friends privately. After all, we may both end up in Hades.”
That was also a good idea. “Now let us get you ready. We both have trips to make.”
 
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: DISCOVERY

At dawn two days later, two of the Old Ones showed up at the hut carrying a long pole, from which hung a rope hammock intended to carry me and my things. I had already packed enough food for ten days and two large wineskins of water. Kypos had told me that there were small streams in the mountains from which we could drink. Alkos had said there were grass and roots enough to feed them for the time we would be gone. After saying goodbye to the others, we all left. The two Old Ones easily carried me and my baggage up the first of many hills.
The important thing about the Central Mountains is they are mostly barren once one climbs above the tree line. It was also cold, even on a spring day; I was glad I had brought a coat and hat with me. As for exciting terrain to describe, there is none. One steep hill covered in gray and brown rocks looked remarkably similar to another. Things got very boring very quickly. Both Alkos and Kypos followed without comment. The only thing I noticed was that they stopped every so often to smell the air. They said nothing, so I assumed they smelled nothing of note.
Just before noon, we descended from a steep hill and came across a small valley with a tiny stream running through it. Around the stream grew a variety of plants. We stopped there and both Alkos and Kypos ate the local plants; I ate some prepared meat. I drank from one of my wineskins and refilled it right away. I also took the time to empty my bowels. The Old Ones did nothing except stand in the stream. They did not drink; they had no mouths, but instead stood in the river to absorb water through their legs. As soon as everyone appeared satisfied, we continued until just before dark, when we stopped on the side of the hill. From there I could see far into the empty desert. I decided not to chance a fire, so I slept bundled up. The cold did not seem to bother the Old Ones, and both Kypos and Alkos were protected by their fur.
“I thank you all for coming,” I said to my companions, thinking I could make conversation.
“It was necessary,” the voice from the Old Ones told me. Both of them dug into the ground an arm’s length with their feet and then went silent and still. I did not know if that passed as sleep for them.
“I cannot understand what man sees in coming near here,” Alkos said, looking into the vast, open wasteland. “There is little food and almost no water. Why would they come here?”
“I have seen that man needs little reason to do anything,” Kypos answered. “Man does what he wants and does not care what happens.”
“Man thinks he owns the world,” Alkos went on.
“Other than you kings and queens of the forest, who else can do what man has done?” I asked. “If I look at normal deer and boars, they do not make farms and poleis.”
“Our kind also does not grow creatures like us for food,” Kypos added.
“Our kind does not burn down the forest,” Alkos told me, sounding annoyed. “Man, with his thinking, makes the rest of us his slaves.”
There was no way to answer that. The rest of the animals could never challenge man’s desire to live in the world any way he wanted. To man, it was not that he had to live with the other creatures; it was as if the gods had given him this world to deal with as he pleased, although what we do with the world at times leaves much to question.
“Man does this because no one stops him except himself,” I said. “I wish that were not true, but it is. I can see no way to change his mind.”
“You do not do this,” Kypos said. “Philie took only what she needed. Why, then, do some humans understand this and others do not?”
“That, I also do not know,” I had to admit. “Some are wiser than others, I know that. Maybe the gods know. If they do, they do not tell us.”
“Man seems to blame your gods when he does not know,” Alkos said.
“That is because there is so much man does not know,” I answered. “Even I must admit I know very little.”
“You seem to know enough,” Kypos said.
After that, we all went to sleep for the night. The only other thing I noticed was how brightly the 342 red lights glowed in the sky.
The next morning, we left again for the north. Until now, the higher mountains had been off to my far right. A few of the higher peaks kept their snow cover. Now I could see those peaks getting closer until we were walking along the very side of the mountains. I also noticed we were moving slightly toward the west to stay out of the high mountains. Sometimes from the tops of these higher hills, I could see into the desert below. I could still see nothing. One thing about traveling with the Old Ones was they walked a lot faster than a normal human. Sometimes even Alkos and Kypos had trouble keeping up.
We kept on climbing and descending throughout that day and the next until we finally came down into a small valley with another stream at the bottom. This stream was larger than the last and flowed down to the west. Next to the stream was a path that, despite the remote location, looked used.
“Look to your right,” the Old Ones told me.
It was clear the stream flowed down from the mountain, and from there it flowed into the desert.
“The stream ends on that mountain, but the path continues between those two mountain peaks. My kind uses this path to travel. It is the easiest way through the mountains.”
I could see a gap between the peaks. It did not look like it would be easy to travel, but it was easier than going over the high peaks.
“Where does the path come out to the east?” I asked.
“It comes out to the east of the mountains in a rocky area not used much by man. Only a few shepherds and their goats and sheep use the land.”
“And to the west?” I added.
“The stream flows out into the desert to dry up like the large river near you. Where it enters the desert, we have seen fires at night.”
“Then we should follow the path to the west,” I suggested.
The path was wide enough to allow easy passage of one horse or two men. “I have no problem walking here. I will walk for a while,” I told them.
“I will go first,” Alkos said. “My eyes, ears, and nose are better than yours.”
There was no argument. Alkos went first, followed by one Old One, then me, then the other Old One, and then Kypos. It was almost dark before we reached where the path came out upon the desert, at the bottom of a short hill. From there I could see well into the desert and I saw something at once: smoke.
Approximately three stadia from the hill was a camp. In the fading light, I could see several horses in a makeshift corral. Sand was piled shoulder-high surrounding the camp. In front of the piled sand was a ditch. The camp was a little less than a stadion on each side. To get a better view, we climbed the hill. From that spot, it was easy to see over the sand walls, where there were several tents. A few were small, probably meant to house troops. Many of the bigger ones most likely covered substantial quantities of goods. In the front was a wooden building that formed part of the outer wall, and what remained of the small stream flowed by the camp.
About a third of the space inside the piled sand wall was empty. I estimated one to two dozen troops lived there. Just who these troops were, I did not know. It was too far to see clearly, and there was no flag or banner flying. Right after dark, they lit several fires inside the camp and within iron lanterns on the sand berms. I had no idea where they had gotten the wood to burn because all I had seen were shrubs and stunted trees. The forest was higher up in the mountains. We decided to spend the night on the hill. Again, we did not light a fire.
“What is this place?” the Old Ones asked.
“A supply camp,” I said. “Food is or will be stored here so troops can resupply easily. It means when the troops march, they do not have to carry as much with them.”
During the night, I could barely make out what was happening in the dim light. I could see one man walking along the edge of each berm inside the camp. It looked as though they changed the guard twice at night. It would be hard to approach the camp by night without detection — and impossible by day. It was also far enough away from the hills that rolling rocks down on them would not work here. This place was engineered to detect any attack long before anyone reached the walls. However, toward the rear, it was dark and open to the wasteland.
At sunup, as soon as there was enough light to see, I made a drawing of the camp. It did not take long and soon we continued north. We were deep within the hills and away from any open ground. To the north of the path, the ground was more open and better watered. We saw several small streams and much thicker plant growth. Both Kypos and Alkos ate well. Nothing of note happened on our journey until midday on the afternoon of the sixth day, when we came to a cliff overlooking the Northern Sea.
As I stared out over the cliff, I spotted a ship. It was a standard trading ship called a hoklas*, about sixty podia long, sailing east to west in the prevailing breeze. Its sail flew in the wind as it sailed close to the coast, where the breeze was strongest. I could see the deck, on which many large trees were bound together. There were no markings on the sail, and I could see no sign of any uniforms. It was an unknown ship, sailing in waters not often used and carrying a cargo of trees. No doubt they had come from the Northern Forest to the east of the mountains. They must have worked fast because I knew the local tetrarch and the archon strictly controlled deforestation. I also knew the archon did not patrol much of the Northern Forest.
“We must go west,” the Old Ones told me. “The fires come from there.”
“Yes, but let’s make sure we are not seen,” I reminded everyone.
We walked away from the cliffs and toward the west, down into a valley and up a hill. Once we looked over the crest, we saw into the barren desert below. Below me, perhaps a milion away, was the layout of a large encampment.
What I saw resembled a small polis. There were many tents. I could not count them all for they were too far away, but it looked like more than a thousand. Behind the rows of tents, a large timber fort was under construction. It was ten times the size of the one we had seen by the pass. Besides a ditch and dirt walls, a wooden palisade had been built on top of the dirt walls near the sea. From the beach, a wooden pier ran into the water. There were seven trading ships either unloading at the pier or getting ready to unload. This was a major base of operations. I looked at the sails of the ship, but as before, saw no markings. I saw no banners at all flying from any place in the camp. I could not be sure who owned this place. Whoever it was, they had come to stay. I made the best drawing I could of the site.
That night we rested and saw many fires in the camp. I could guess why they needed the wood. There was also activity in front of the fort. It looked like troops were loading several wagons with bags and other goods; ten carts were all pulled by horses. By dawn, they had finished loading the wagons and a troop of fifty men had taken up positions around them. Three officers were leading this party. They drew up their ranks and marched closer to the hill. They would be more difficult to spot near the hills than in the open desert, not that there was much chance of either happening. As they got closer, I could see them better. These riders were wearing the light-yellow uniform I knew from before.
“The Zilar have returned,” I said. “We have to go back now.”
The others got together and we quickly left, making sure no one could see us. Although both infantry and cavalry patrolled the desert floor, there were no patrols in the hills. We moved quickly away and soon put distance between our group and the Zilar. I explained to my friends what was happening as we moved.
“The Zilar have decided on a new plan. They are not going to go through the Forest of Allund. They are instead building a base on the Northern Shore to attack from there. They will march a small army south to the east-west path and then invade from the hills. That is why the other base is there. No one will be expecting them from there. Once they get through the mountains and into the plains, they will be able to take several poleis before anyone knows they have arrived. We must stop this.”
“They will stop us from moving through the mountains,” the Old Ones said.
“What can we do?” Kypos asked.
“We need to tell the ethnarch about the plan,” I answered. “He can assemble an army and try to stop them. The Zilar cannot march a huge army through that path and they cannot take any siege engines. If we can mount a bigger army, we can stop them.”
“What about the bigger camp we saw before?” Alkos added.
“I wish I could destroy it,” I said, “but it looks too well guarded to approach it unseen.”
“Perhaps we can help,” Kypos said.
“How?” I wanted to know.
“Get the humans to look at us and not you,” Kypos said.
“The humans have bows and arrows; they can kill us,” Alkos said bluntly.
“Not if they cannot see us,” Kypos said.
“We do it at night as we did to the others,” the Old One added. “You can set them on fire.”
The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for another mass killing. “I do not want to do what we did before. Many died last time.”
“They would kill us,” Kypos said, sounding angry at my reluctance now. “You stopped them before, you stop them now.”
Kypos was starting to sound like Philie. “Mages do not just kill like the Zilar. We harm only to protect others and ourselves. The Zilar were burning the forest down before, so we had to stop them. This time they are doing nothing. I will not kill them if they are not trying to hurt us. It is not right. Malcor would never do that.”
“You cannot kill food,” the Old Ones told me. “Burn the food at the small camp and not the humans.”
I felt like saying that was not so easy to do, but I could see I was not going to win this argument. I decided I would try to postpone it and hopefully they would forget about this crazy scheme.
“Let us go to the small camp and see if there is a way to do this. I will decide then,” I said.
That quieted everyone and we continued on, thankfully in silence. Being carried in a hammock was not a bad way to travel, but it got boring. There was no one else in the hills. We crossed the barren slopes without seeing a sign of human life and stopped for food and water as before. I was starting to run low on supplies and cut back on my eating. Other than that, nothing much happened for the several days it took us to reach the east-west path again. We got there in the midafternoon and looked over the camp.
I noticed one thing straightaway: there were more horses at the camp this time, only these were not Zilar mounts. The Zilar mostly rode smaller desert horses; these were regular large cavalry horses. When we reached the path, I saw several sets of fresh horse tracks. These riders had come from our province. That made me immediately suspicious. Just before nightfall, the wagons we had seen leave the fort arrived. The fifty or so guards set up a temporary camp outside with several sentries on patrol. Most of them went about unloading the wagons, continuing into the night. The three officers went inside and stayed there.
“With all those extra guards, it is foolish to try to attack the camp tonight,” I told the others.
“We will need to wait,” the Old One said.
During the night, the men emptied the wagons and filled about half the vacant space of the camp with supplies. One more trip like that and this camp would be ready. Afterward, the invasion could come at any time. Just before dawn, I saw movement inside the sand walls. Four men came out, saddled the larger cavalry horses, and then went back inside; I could smell bread baking. After breakfast, I saw them again, only this time they were wearing armor and carrying swords, lances, bows, and shields. These were household cavalry, and they could have come from only one place.
I backed away and went to my friends. “There are four riders about to leave the camp. I want to stop them if I can.”
“Why?” Kypos asked.
“Because I think they are troops of the archon, here to meet with the Zilar. That is treason,” I told them. “I would like to know what they talked about with the Zilar.”
“We can roll rocks on them,” the Old One said.
That trick might work on an army, but I doubted it would work on only a few riders. There was also one other problem. “Yes, but that would kill them,” I said.
“The only way to stop them is to kill them,” Alkos said.
“I can meet them on the path and charge through their horses. They may not die,” Kypos added.
That was better than a fireball or a rolling rock. “Go ahead,” I said.
We all moved quickly away from the edge of the hill and deeper into the mountains, to the spot we had crossed before. Beyond that point, the trail narrowed and the trees started to grow thicker. We went down and hid among the large rocks near the path, close to where the path curved around a large boulder. Kypos hid behind that. Alkos hid near me, down the trail behind other large boulders. The Old Ones I left on top of the hill. It was not long before the four riders appeared on the trail in single file.
They were not dressed in uniform, but they rode like they knew how. Whoever they were, they were allies of the Zilar. That made them our enemies. They rode on, wary of their surroundings, but did not see us as they passed the place where Alkos and I were hiding. They stopped to look around, then continued until they just reached the large boulder.
Suddenly a massive black-and-white mound of muscle came from around the boulder. The first rider had no chance to react before Kypos slammed into his horse, sending it flying off the trail.
The man screamed, and the horse cried out in pain.
The second rider had time to rein in his horse before Kypos sent them both hurtling and screaming into the bush. The two remaining men looked terrified at the sight of the giant boar. They were pulling out and notching their bows when Kypos crashed into both of their horses, sending them to join the others. Kypos ran back to his place, and once he passed me, I came out of hiding to examine the scene.
The first rider and mount had taken the full force of Kypos’s charge. Both were dead — the impact had crushed the horse’s chest and broken the rider’s neck. The second rider was unconscious and bleeding heavily from his mouth. A quick use of Life Magik told me there was nothing I could do for him, and his mount was also dead. The third rider was alive but unconscious. He had been thrown and had landed in a heap. His horse had two broken legs and could not survive. I gathered up the energy and called out “Keravno.” A lightning bolt killed the horse instantly. The fourth rider was slowly getting to his feet, so I gathered energy and called out “Aeras.” My wind ball knocked him back down. His mount also had a broken leg that I took care of in the same way as the last.
I started going through their saddlebags and took some of the food because my store was low. I found scrolls in the saddlebags of the second rider. When I looked at him closely, I saw he had a chain of office. I took it off and examined it. It clearly identified him as an epihipparch* for the Archon of Erinus — the archon who had recently died and been succeeded by the brat. That confirmed my suspicions. These were members of the archon’s household troops.
My friends waited on the path while I examined the bodies and collected everything that identified them as soldiers for the archon in one saddlebag. I took all the food, money, and anything else I considered valuable. I had an idea about how to cover our tracks: I blindfolded the fourth rider and tied him up with some of the reins, then sat him against a tree and emptied a wineskin of water over his head to wake him. He coughed and spat out the water.
“What is going on here?” he yelled.
I took his dagger and placed it against his throat. “If you value your life, you will remain silent.”
He went instantly quiet.
“Two of your friends are dead and one is seriously hurt. You should know better than to travel these paths with their dangers. You are lucky that mountain boar did not kill you all. We have robbed you, but we are not interested in your lives. Behind you, a podi away, is a knife. You should easily be able to get it to cut your bonds. You can then travel to the camp at the head of the valley for help.”
I could only hope he did not know what a mountain boar was. “Who are you?” he blurted out.
“No one you will ever see again,” I said. “Take my gift of your lives and thank the gods the money and other goods were all we wanted.”
I called my friends together and motioned for them to ascend the hill. I put the goods in the hammock they had carried me in and traveled on foot until we were well away. Upon finding a decent hiding place, I got rid of most of the items, keeping only a ceremonial sword bearing the names of the old archon and the dead rider, as well as the money, food, chain of office, and papers.
“Why take things and then throw them away?” the Old One asked.
I smiled. “I want them to think they were attacked by a wild animal, and I and some friends just came to rob them afterward. If we are lucky, they will not suspect what we really wanted.”
“You want to fool them,” Kypos said.
“Yes, my friend, and thanks to you, I can,” I said and patted his side.
“What of the Zilar camp?” the Old One asked.
“This is more important than destroying the camp,” I said. “We can always come back and do that. This is news I must get to my friends.”
I climbed back into the hammock and started reading the papers. It did not take long to understand the full scope of the new archon’s involvement. Lycus had entered into an agreement with the Zilar. They would help him first take over the eparchia, then together they would conquer the entire vasíleio. Lycus would become ethnarch and act as a client ruler to the Zilar. I had battle plans and a written statement under Lycus’s seal revealing his agreement to work his people to death if necessary to feed and supply the Zilar armies. His involvement with the Zilar had been going on for a while. It would have been kind to call him a traitor. He was a criminal of the first order, a criminal I would see face justice for all the suffering he had caused. I could not wait to show this to the ethnarch.
We traveled until it was dark, then stopped in the other little valley we had discovered. All of us ate well that night, but I still did not light a campfire. The next day, we did not get back home before dark, so we spent one more night on a barren hill. By midmorning, the Old Ones were carrying me down the final hill. As we drew near my home, I saw smoke coming from the hut.
“Do not take me to my hut. Others are there,” I told the Old Ones.
I turned to Kypos and Alkos. “Go find our friends and meet me next to the tree with the golden crown. I need to know who is here and what has happened while we were gone.”
“We will go,” Alkos said and took off at a run. Kypos was right behind him.
Once we got to the bottom of the hill near my hut, I climbed out of the hammock and left the Old Ones with my thanks. I took the saddlebags and other things I had confiscated from the riding party to the tree with the crown and waited. Only a little while later, Kerina came to see me, alone.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“Out watching for enemies,” she said.
“Who is in my hut?”
“Philie and her friend, your lady friend, and a man and a woman we do not know are all there. Philie told us the man and woman were the oligarch and his wife. She also said men from the archon had come and tried to kill them all, but they got away before the men arrived. Philie brought them here.”
“Zeus,” I cursed. “This never gets any easier.”
 
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: REVERSAL

I approached slowly, knowing Philie and Iolaos would be looking for trouble. When I reached the end of the forest near the hut, I stopped.
“Khaire*,” I called out.
A few moments later, both Philie and Iolaos came out the door, bows at the ready.
“It is Alex,” I called and stepped forward.
Philie looked at me, took a deep breath, and lowered her bow. “Thank Hera you are all right.”
“What has happened?” I said, approaching the hut.
Cleon and Theresa came outside, and I saw Melina come out through the door of my cave. All looked safe and in one piece. Melina came down next to me and I kissed her passionately, not caring what the others thought.
Cleon started. “Polyibus and two dozen men rode up to the city gate with written orders from the new archon to arrest me for treason for letting Kreon and Maleos go. The guards held them up long enough for the five of us to leave through a secret passage. Four of them tried to follow, but they died in the woods.”
“I was able to contact our friends using the Speaking Stone you hid,” Philie said. “They got rid of the four following us and led us all here.”
“Led you all?” I asked.
“Yes, Alex, they know about our friends now,” Philie said. “I am sorry, but it was the only way we could be safe. After the shock was over, we all got along fine.”
“I do wish you had told me about them,” Cleon cut in. “I almost died from fright when I saw the two wolves. Theresa and Melina were terrified.”
I took a deep breath. Nothing I could do about it now. “I hope you now understand why Malcor and I concealed their existence.”
“Actually, I like the two unicorns,” Melina said.
“You all must understand what would happen if everyone knew about them. Some idiot would try to hunt them down and kill them for a trophy. You must never tell another living soul about them.”
“We understand,” Cleon said. “Ye gods, it was a shock though.”
Philie asked, “Lykos and Keros told me you had gone with the Old Ones to look at new camps. What did you find?”
“I found more than I ever expected and almost all of it is bad. If you do not mind, I am going to call my friends to join us so you can all hear this.”
I looked over and while I could see some reluctance, especially from Theresa, Melina seemed happy about it.
“Very well,” Cleon said.
I called for the others to come to the hut, and we all sat on the ground to wait. Once they were there, I stood and spoke aloud so everyone could understand me. “Kypos and Alkos may have already told you some of this, but I wanted you to hear it from me. It explains many things.”
I went into detail about exactly what we had done, seen, and found. It took some time with both Kypos and Alkos adding details of their own. It was nearly afternoon when we finished; there was a mixture of shock and gloom among both humans and animals.
“So, the Zilar are back, they are preparing to invade, and our archon is a traitor,” Cleon summarized.
“Correct, and we have almost no help to do anything about it,” I added cheerlessly.
“We could see the ethnarch,” Iolaos said.
I understood the folly of that plan. “Unless Lycus is a complete idiot, he knows you have escaped. He may even know I stole these plans and he will expect us to do this very thing. He will have spies out looking for us and will have the north-south road watched carefully. We would have to go cross-country, but that is all mostly open space.”
“Can you talk to the arch-mage again as you did before?” Philie asked.
“I can try, but that did not work the last few times I attempted it,” I pointed out.
“That might be our best hope,” Cleon added.
“What about us here?” Alkos asked. “Suppose they come back here?”
I repeated the question aloud and then thought about it for a moment. The answer seemed simple. “That is not likely,” I concluded. “The Zilar have already lost one army here and I assume they are not in a big hurry to come back. The fact they are massing far to the north of us confirms that. Lycus knows from the Zilar what happened to the uninvited visitors. I do not think anyone will be in a hurry to attack us here. We are safe for now, but that will not last.”
“How long will it last?” Theresa asked.
“That, no one knows,” I said to all of them. “For now, all we can do is watch.”
“And hope,” Melina added and looked at me. “You look tired and you are dirty.”
“If the women do not mind, I will take a bath,” I told them. “Then I want to rest and try to contact the arch-mage. As for the rest of us, we need to watch, and not just the road. I would not put it past the brat to sneak in here with one or more assassins.”
“We will all watch,” Lykos said, raising his huge head. “I would not mind if they sent more into the forest after you. The last guards that came into the forest tasted good.”
I repeated what the huge wolf had said, minus the part about the guards.
Cleon and Iolaos continued to question me as I bathed. Mostly we talked about what we could do to improve our situation. I washed both my clothes and myself and did not say much. The women stayed away. I then excused myself and went up to my cave, carrying my wet clothes.
I hung my clothes outside in front of my cave and went to relax in my makeshift bed. Someone had replaced the old straw with fresh straw, some still green. The cave had a spring-like smell to it. I lay flat on the new grass. As I did, I heard footsteps come up the path and the door open. Melina entered and closed the door behind her. She looked at me with a smile on her face.
“Melina, I am tired, and I need to rest,” I said jokingly. I then reached up and pulled her down on top of me.
“I see how tired you are,” she said, removing her breeches and shirt. “I know just the way to relax you.”
Sometime later in the afternoon, we both woke up feeling very relaxed. After taking care of necessities, I went back to the hut and retrieved the Speaking Stone from Philie. I took it back to the cave and infused it with as much energy as I could. I concentrated hard, trying to mentally project as intensely as I could while clearly picturing the arch-mage in my head.
“Arch-Mage Herion, please hear me,” I called silently into the stone.
I felt nothing in reply. I waited and then concentrated again and tried to shout even louder.
“I hear you, Alex,” a voice called to me as if in the distance, but it did not feel the same.
“Alex, it is Cronos,” the voice said. “The arch-mage asked me to hold the crystal and wait for your call. Both the arch-mage and the ethnarch are very ill. Physician Timagoras is treating them both. We fear it is poison. We think we know who was responsible, but the person was dead before we got to him, so we do not know who ordered it.”
Ye gods, I said out loud, but I had to get the message through. “Cronos, the ethnarch must know the Zilar are back. They have set up a large base on the northern shore, just west of where the Central Mountain reaches the Northern Sea. They also have a supply camp near where the North Pass enters the desert. They will invade us through the North Pass.”
“Are you sure?” he said with alarm.
“I have seen the camps myself,” I told him. “And one other thing: the archon brat is a traitor. I have written proof he is in league with the Zilar.”
“That explains many things,” Cronos came back.
“He also removed Oligarch Cleon from his office and took over Korpolis. Both the oligarch and his family are safe with me.”
“Damn him to Tartarus*!” Cronos cried out. “Listen, Alex, besides the poisoning of the arch-mage and the ethnarch, orders were sent to Archons Briareus and Eurystheus to march their forces south to meet a false invasion. We just found out about this and the polemarch has sent riders to bring them back. It will be days before they return. It will be well after the solstice before we can march north.”
“That will be too late,” I said. “I think they will invade shortly. Their camps are almost ready.”
“Alex, can you stop them?” Cronos said. I could feel fear in his thoughts. If he was afraid, things were bad.
“I do not know,” I answered honestly.
“Do what you can,” Cronos said, almost in a panic. “If the Zilar are able to solidify their position in the north, there is no telling what will happen.”
The image was starting to fade. “I will do what I can, but help us as soon as possible. Farewell.”
With that, the image vanished, and I was alone in the cave. The situation was becoming dire and I had no idea what to do. I left the cave and called everyone together to share the bad news.
The next morning, as I awoke and got dressed with Melina, I received a powerful message from Aetos. “Alex, four men on horses and two men in a wagon are riding hard for the forest. Behind them are many riders, Zilar, and they are all heading here.”
“How many Zilar are coming?” I asked.
“More than before,” came the immediate answer.
“How soon before they get here?” I asked aloud. Melina turned quickly to face me.
“The riders with the wagon will be here soon. The others will take a while longer.”
“Let them come,” I said. “Return here. We may need you.”
“Trouble is coming,” I told Melina. “The Zilar will be here soon.”
“A curse on them,” she called out.
I grabbed the Speaking Stone and left the cave. I summoned everyone to meet me at the hut and explained what Aetos had told me.
“I want the group with the wagon let in with no problem,” I said. “I need to know from them what is happening. When the Zilar come through, we are going to stop them. By now, they should know better than to come here.”
“Our friends should hide in the woods between here and the entrance to the forest,” Philie said. “If any Zilar escape here, our friends should prevent their escape.”
“That is good,” Lykos said. “I will get the pack. We will eat well tonight.”
I did not pass along that last message.
Philie looked at me. “This may get bloody, Alex. I need to know what you will do when they get here. None of this Mage Code nonsense — this is life and death now, for all of us.”
Cleon, Theresa, Melina, and Iolaos looked at her, not understanding, but I understood exactly what Philie meant: would I use the magik at full strength? I turned to face her and saw Iolaos looking straight into my eyes.
“During my talk with Cronos, he made it clear we are on our own,” I said. “I will do whatever it takes to stop the Zilar and the archon brat. I will ask forgiveness of the gods later, when everyone is safe.”
“Now you are learning how to fight,” Philie said with a grin and walked away.
I stepped away and started to meditate. I looked at the realms around me, selected the brightest ones, and let their power flow into the Speaking Stone and the crystal around my neck, and then into me. I let the energy flow until the crystals and I could hold no more. I turned around and saw my friends, both animal and human. The crystal hanging around my neck glowed brilliantly. Cleon, Iolaos, and Philie were all dressed for war with swords, knives, and bows. Even Theresa and Melina were holding bows. I had my fighting and throwing knives.
“The first group comes,” Alkos said.
I stepped out and saw four horsemen and two in a horse-drawn wagon galloping at full speed. I motioned for my animal friends to remain hidden. As soon as the riders got close, I could see they were wearing the uniforms of the ethnarch. The same group had passed through here to help rebuild Dysiasty. I walked out into the open and let my voice boom.
“Stop! I am Alexio Sopholus, the mage. No one will hurt you.”
The riders and wagon pulled up and stopped. I ran up to them and saw three wounded men in the wagon, all bloody. The horses were exhausted. One of the riders jumped down from his horse.
“Mage Sopholus, thank the gods you are here,” he said in a raspy, breathless voice. “It is terrible.”
By now the others had arrived, and Cleon came forward. “I am Oligarch Cleon of Korpolis. What has happened?”
The rider looked pained to speak. “Three days ago, a thousand Zilar horsemen appeared out of the desert. The outer wall had not been repaired yet, so they easily got in. Once inside the city, they started to kill everyone they could find. We fought them, but there were too many. Hipparchus* Agenor died fighting, as did most of our group. We hid until dark, and then stole a wagon and some horses. They started to chase us the next morning.”
“What about the people of the polis?” I asked.
“The slaughter was still going on when we left,” the rider said. “The townspeople tried to fight back, but it was farming tools against swords and bows. They did not have a chance.”
“Were there any desert tribesmen with them?” I asked.
“No, these were only Zilar troops,” the rider answered, almost in tears.
“They are killing the people?” Philie wondered. “Who will grow their food?”
“They are no longer interested in food,” I realized. “They are either eliminating what they see as a threat or taking revenge against Dysiasty.” I turned to the troop leader. “There was a salt trader named Mikon. Do you know anything about him?”
“Yes. He was leading the polis along with a merchant named Thales. They were helping us rebuild before the Zilar arrived.” He stopped and looked very solemn. “When we were hiding along with many of the townspeople, one of them told me the Zilar went after the two of them first and then killed the rest, including their families.”
“The second group is coming,” Alkos said. “I think there are about fifty.”
“Fifty of them are coming this way,” I said to everyone. I then turned to the troopers.
“Hide your people in the orchard and tie up your horses. Take the cart over to the hut. Get ready; you may get a chance to get even soon.”
The trooper smiled and then called his men away. I motioned for the others to hide.
I then sent a message to my friends. “Stay away from the road and hide in the forest. If anyone tries to escape, kill them. No mercy this time; these riders have murdered innocent men, women, and children.”
“Stay away from the road,” I repeated aloud to everyone else. I crossed to the other side of the road, crouched near the bank of the river, and drew as much energy into myself as I could. I was mad. I thought about Mikon and became angrier. The Mage Code says a mage should never cast in anger. Well, this one was about to.
A short while later, I saw figures galloping down the road in a column two horses wide. I watched them approach in a hurry. Two riders were out in front, tracking those they were chasing. I did not care. I waited until they were fifty podia away and then I yelled out.
“You did not listen!”
That stopped them in their tracks. I stood and walked into the middle of the road. Seeing I was alone, they continued to advance.
“Kill that man,” a trooper in the front rank yelled. “He is the mage Zalac ordered us to kill. Kill them all.”
They urged their horses forward and the men in front lowered their lances. I waited until they were within twenty podia and then yelled as loud as I could.
“Pyra!” I cried.
A massive ball of blue fire took shape between my hands, even larger than before. I raised my hands and the ball over my head and then threw the ball straight down the road with all the force and anger I could muster. The ball turned orange. The front rank had just enough time to scream before the ball, now orange and black, struck them. From then on, all I heard was screaming as the ball rolled down the road as fast as any man could run. It traveled for over a full stadion before it erupted into a mass of orange flame and black smoke that rose high into the sky like a fire mushroom.
A thunderous sound shook the air. The shock almost knocked me off my feet, but this time I was ready for it. The trees shook, and even the river rippled. The ball of fire rose several stadia in the air and then dissipated. Slowly the smoke cleared. When I could see again, there was simply nothing left. Everything in front of me was ash, as if the Zilar had been cremated instantly. The only visible remains were the road surface and nearby grass, both burned black as charcoal. All around me, the air smelled of burnt meat.
I looked over my handiwork. I was now responsible for killing these fifty people, to go along with those of the first cavalry patrol and the ones incinerated during the Zilar invasion. A voice inside me said I should care, but I could not. The people in Dysiasty had not wanted to die, yet the Zilar had killed them without mercy. I felt I had given the Zilar no more or no less than they had given others under their rule. As I saw it, their deaths were justice for those in Dysiasty who had received no justice. No matter how hard I tried, I could not feel sorry for these men; however, I did feel sorry for their horses.
“In the name of the gods, what was that?” I heard the troop leader cry out.
I turned to see him holding his bow, his eyes bulging in shock. The others had started to come out. All were looking wide-eyed at the destruction; that is, all except Melina. She looked at me in horror. Without a word, I walked toward the hut and the wagon.
I first looked at the three wounded men in the cart. Two had sword cuts on their arms and legs. One looked like an arrow had been removed from his side. He looked the most severely injured. I went into a trance, slowly pulling power from the nearby realms and gently directing it into the body of the trooper. I felt his innards; his condition was not good. He had lost a lot of blood and his heart and other organs were failing. He was already starting to shake as his body went into shock. I tried to transfer power into him to combat the injury. I felt his heart beat stronger and the other organs respond, but magik could not reverse his loss of blood. The moment I removed the energy, his body started shaking again as its organs continued to fail. There was nothing more I could do for this man.
The two with sword cuts were in better shape. Their bandages had kept them from bleeding out. I dispatched power into both of them to fight any putrefaction of their wounds. It did not take much to restore the balance inside their bodies, only some transfer of power to support their healing. Both of them would be fine. After I finished, I felt tired and sat down on the tree stump to rest. I saw the other troopers look at me.
“The two with the sword wounds will be all right,” I said. “There is nothing I can do for the one with the arrow wound. He will pass shortly.”
I closed my eyes and nodded off for a little while. When I opened them, the two wounded men were inside the hut with their friends. The other one lay still in the cart. Another dead person, thanks to the Zilar.
I found a piece of scrap wood and started to whittle it with one of my fighting knives just to occupy my mind. I was still angry. The others were on the road, trying to remove what little remained. They piled both human and horse together at the side of the road. They worked silently, and I could see the stares as they tried to take in the destruction. It was not until sometime later that I saw Cleon, Melina, and Philie walk toward me.
“Philie told me what happened before,” Cleon told me. “I can see why you did not want others to know.”
“No, there is a difference,” I said, still cutting the wood. “The first time, I did not know what would happen. The deaths I caused took me by surprise. When the Zilar invaded, their own stupidity caused their destruction. I just helped. This time, however, I knew exactly what would happen and I did it anyway. I was angry about what these murderers had done, and I killed them without mercy. I like to think it was justice for the people at Dysiasty, but I know it was my anger and the fact that I wanted revenge. That is not exactly in line with the Mage Code.”
“No,” Melina stepped forward, leaned over, and hugged me. “You killed men who had murdered many. In doing so, you protected our lives and the lives of your friends. Remember, they came here; you did not go to them. They are responsible and not you.”
“We will see,” I mumbled.
Cleon also leaned over and looked at me. “You look awful,” he told me. “I think you should get some rest.”
That made a lot of sense. I got up and started to walk to my cave. I noticed Melina had begun to follow.
“He needs to be alone, Melina,” Cleon said. She stopped and went into the hut to help with the wounded. I went into my cave and did not even bother taking off my robe before I lay down on the straw and went to sleep in an instant.
When I awoke, it was nighttime. Outside, a fire was roaring in the open area. All of my human friends were there, along with the five troopers. I went down and sat next to Melina, who put her arm around me.
“We were discussing what we should do next,” Cleon said. “There is not much to do here except wait for the next attack. I do not like waiting.”
“My men will need to stay here,” the lead trooper said. “If the archon has seized Korpolis, and if we try to go back to Arginnia, then he will send people after us. That traitor has covered all the possibilities.”
“We can do one thing that traitor will not expect,” Iolaos said.
“What?” I asked.
“Attack,” he said. “We can burn the supply base.”
“That is a four-day walk without food or water,” Cleon said. “We would never make it.”
“Not unless we go over the hills, and that will be a very tiring trip,” I mentioned. “Even if we succeeded, all the Zilar would have to do is rebuild their supply base and guard it better. As long as Lycus holds the door open to this eparchia, the Zilar can walk in anytime they want to.”
That quieted everyone down. This was a more complicated problem then just burning down a fort. We had to block any help from Lycus to be safe in the future, too.
I explained silently to the others nearby what they were suggesting.
“We can go,” Kypos said from hiding.
“Yes, but humans cannot go up and down those hills as I did before,” I reminded them.
“Not unless you have help, like before,” Alkos said from a distance.
“No,” I told them. “I do not want any of these people to meet the Old Ones; they already know too much.”
“Then what are you going to do?” the big deer went on.
I had no idea. We pushed ideas around, but none of them were much good. Eventually, we all went to bed.
That night I could not get to sleep. I just lay next to Melina, thinking. Iolaos was right: that supply base must be destroyed before the Zilar were ready. It might already be too late. I also knew that with one massive fireball, the entire base would go up in flames. I was sure destroying the Zilar supply base would not prove much of an effort. It would, however, violate the Mage Code. None of the men at the supply base were threatening us directly. To openly attack the base with magik went against the code and my own basic instincts. I also realized that neither the Mage Code nor my instincts were of much use now. When Philie said I had held back too long, she was correct. Because I had held back, the people of Dysiasty had died horribly. I felt partly responsible for their destruction. I did not need to be a moral philosopher to understand that my principles were all but useless against the Zilar. They only understood one thing.
I also knew the supply base was only part of the problem. There was still the matter of the archon. As long as he was in charge, all the Zilar had to do was rebuild their supply base and we would be right back to where we were now. That led me to one inescapable conclusion. Besides the supply base, the archon also needed to be removed to make things safe. With no inside help, the Zilar would have the almost impossible task of invading Erinus. Removing a senior magistrate was much more complicated than burning a supply base. Lycus would not accede to my authority as a magistrate, nor did I think he would leave without a fight. That meant a battle for which we had no forces. No one could ever capture him and hold him for trial, which left only one option: kill him. Killing a senior magistrate was against the laws of all the lands. Normally, the law would take care of him as a traitor, but now there was no law in Erinus except Lycus. Before the ethnarch could bring an army here to defeat him, the Zilar could overrun this eparchia. Would they do to Korpolis what they had done to Dysiasty? Thousands of people in my polis alone could die. No telling how many more would die in the entire eparchia.
That left the question of just how we could kill Lycus. One person might be able to sneak in and do it. If I could get close to the brat, I could do to him what I had just done to the Zilar party. It would not be much of a problem, other than getting to him undetected. There was also the small matter of getting away. Magik can be powerful, but it cannot make one immune to harm. Of course, killing the archon meant my total disregard for the Mage Code and the law. It also demanded total disregard for everything Malcor and my master mage instructors at the academy had spent years drilling into my head. Mages do not kill except in defense of themselves or the innocent, and they never murder. The Mage Code also said the mage must protect the innocent, and I had no doubt that after the destruction of Dysiasty, the Zilar would do the same to any city they took in Argina. The two principles were in conflict. The Mage Code was not written with this situation in mind. No mage had ever faced a problem like this before. I had to decide what meant more to me, the people of this eparchia or my personal beliefs. That did not even bear consideration. Thousands of lives were more important than what I thought.
What bothered me even more was what would happen if I succeeded and survived. No matter the reason, the act of killing Lycus might lead to my execution or banishment from the three vasíleia by the Mage Council. The law of Argina was also clear: a senior magistrate is inviolate unless he commits a crime and is put on trial. Only if he is found guilty can he be executed. There were no provisions in the law for removing an archon by killing him for cause. To do so was still murder under the law, and the universal punishment for murder was death or banishment for life. The question was whether killing the brat constituted murder, just punishment for treason, or self-defense for everyone living in Erinus. Also, just who had the right to make that decision: the ethnarch, the other archons, the oligarchs, me? The practical solution to that last question was obvious. There was only me.
I quietly got up from my bed, put on a robe, and walked outside. Once away from my hut, I sat down, reentered my trance, and contemplated the evil I was considering. I felt torn because it went against everything I had been taught and the way I had lived my life until then. The idea of turning into a mass killer made me ill.
“Whooooooo,” I heard.
I opened my eyes and saw the white owl sitting on the lower tree branch as before. I approached it and bowed slightly.
“What must I do?” I pleaded.
“You must do as you think is best,” the bird said. “This must be your decision, not ours. Malcor said you would face hard decisions, and this is one of them.” The owl then flew away.
The bird was right; I could not pass this decision on to the gods. This was my burden. In that moment, I had an epiphany.
The answer came to me as clear as a pure diamond. Thousands of lives took precedence over one life, even my own. The only way out of this problem was simple and direct, and I doubted either the Zilar or the brat would expect it: I had to do this alone. I would not ask anyone else to take the risk if I failed or to accept the punishment if I succeeded. This was my burden. All I could do was ask whatever gods were out there for help, protection, and, most importantly, forgiveness for what I felt I had to do.
By morning, I had convinced myself of my decision.
 
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: PRECIPICE

First, I needed a plan.
I went about the next day thinking about what I needed to do. Somehow I had to get to the Zilar base, destroy it, cross the mountains, find the archon, and then kill him. I could walk to the base, but that would take time and supplies. It would also require physical strength which I did not have. With the Speaking Stone, however, my ability to focus power into my body was enhanced. Just how far I could push that enhancement, I did not know, but I had to try.
I also had to resupply on my journey. I could not carry enough food to last that many days, nor could I just take supplies from our storerooms with so many people here. Someone was bound to see and ask questions. I thought about it for a moment and the answer I found was simple and nearby — I could get the Zilar to supply me with all I needed to do my work.
The next problem was that I could not just walk off with a backpack; again, someone was sure to notice. Many of my friends would want to go with me. That, I would not allow. When I thought about it, I found the answer to that problem in the same place as the answer to the first.
I spent that night with Melina, trying not to think or to show that I might not see her again. I am a poor actor. She saw I was tense, but I passed it off, saying I was worried about our situation here. Whether I convinced her or not, I do not know, but it got me through the night.
When morning came, I told Melina and the others I was going to the old battlefield to see if I could recover anything useful. I went off alone and made sure no one followed me. I got there about midmorning; the battlefield was awful to see, with just bare bones left. The scavengers had long ago removed any remaining flesh from the bodies, leaving only white skeletons. I walked into the Zilar camp and started looking. I found sacks of flour. Many still had burn marks, but most of them were waterlogged after exposure to the elements during the winter. Fortunately, the Zilar had stacked the bags high, so those in the middle of the pile looked fine. I took a sack and opened it. The flour was good.
Next was olive oil that I found in sealed amphorae. Then I found yeast and a stove in one of the cooking tents. I began to mix bread dough the way Malcor had taught me. Next, I put some scrap wood in the stove and soon had a fire going. I baked a dozen flatbread loaves and wrapped them in waterproof tent cloth, with sheets of moistened cloth from scraps of uniforms between the loaves. Searching further, I found some preserved beef, what they sometimes call travel beef because it does not spoil rapidly, and it still looked good. Then I found a large empty wineskin, cleaned it out, and filled it with water from the river. I went through the old Zilar uniforms and found a few that looked in good shape, so I put together a uniform for myself with pieces that mostly fit me. I removed my mage robe and put the Zilar uniform on. It hung much lighter than my robe. In the scattered remains outside, I found an empty backpack and stuffed it with the bread, water, mage robe, and Speaking Stone. It was heavy, but not excessive. I cut a piece of pale tent cloth big enough to cover myself, and the last thing I did was find a writing pen, paper, and some dried ink that I revived with water. I wrote a note explaining what I was going to do and tied it to a pole where I was sure someone would find it. I was finally ready.
I started before dark and walked down the side of the hills going north. I continued walking into the dark. As soon as the stars appeared, I found a reference star and marked its place. It was simple to walk toward it. As the stars turned above me, they brought more lights into view; I marked those locations just as a ship’s navigator would. I continued walking with increasing fatigue because I had not slept for two full days, but I forced myself to continue using Life Magik to sustain me until I saw the first glow of daylight. I stopped in a lip between two hills where I drank water and ate two pieces of bread with some beef. I then covered myself with the tent cloth and slept.
Getting lost would not be a problem. I knew as long as I kept the hills on my right, there was little chance I could go wrong, but I still wanted to fix my direction of travel. Losing my way out here was the same as death. When I was done, I could finally relax. Despite everything, I managed to sleep well that day.
When darkness fell, I continued my trek north. I knew there were not many animals in this desert. Most were insects; some were dangerous. That was one reason I had wrapped myself in the thick tent cloth during the day, when I slept. The other reason was it made me harder to spot from the desert. It was still early enough in the year that the full blaze of Apollo did not bear down on me during daytime. When night came, I continued to move. Although there was not much light, once my eyes adjusted, I could see just well enough to travel. The ground was flat and mostly even at the edge of the hills. I did not go up into the hills as before. There the ground was broken and uneven, and I could never cross it in the dark. To travel that way, I would have had to seek the help of the Old Ones — something else I did not want to do. This was my problem, not theirs. I moved north all night and stopped at the first sign of dawn. If there was anyone else in this desert fringe, they were well hidden. I spent my second day like my first, resting under a canvas cover, and slept rather well.
On the third night, I came across a small rivulet streaming down from between two hills. I had seen it before, on my last trip. I took the time to fill my wineskin. I can go without food for days, but not so for water. I moved on afterward and covered even more ground before daylight. The weather was mild, the night air was cool, and no rain fell on this side of the mountains.
Early on my fourth night of travel, I finally saw my destination. On the horizon, I could see a light. It was not very bright, but in the darkness it was like a beacon. There was only one light, for which I was glad. That meant no one else was around. Even as dawn approached, I went on. I wanted to get as close to the camp as possible, so I kept moving until I could barely make out its features, then finally stopped and rested undercover. Tonight would be a busy night. Before it was fully dark, I ate the last of my now-stale bread and finished the beef.
As the sun went down, I again put as much Life Magik power into me as I dared. I waited until it was completely dark before I continued walking. I drew close to the hills, trying not to make any noise. As soon as I had crossed the small stream that ran near the path I had seen before, I stopped and refilled my waterskin. I left my backpack next to the stream near a stunted tree — it would be easy to find it there in the dark. I needed to look the camp over. There were ten horses outside in a makeshift stable, and I saw four men — one walking on each wall, with lit torches in iron baskets on all four corners and in the middle of each wall.
I traveled away from the camp until I was sure no one could see me and then walked parallel to the camp until I was behind it. I approached the camp out of the darkness of the desert. From that direction, no one would expect an attack. First, I concentrated to tap as much energy as possible from the realms and direct it into the Speaking Stone and my necklace. Next, I approached the camp slowly and quietly. When I was within a stadion, I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled. The guard walked back and forth. As he paced, he looked out into the desert repeatedly. He was not a fool. I had already decided I would use one of my huge fireballs. That would set everything alight that could burn. I waited until the guard was directly in line with the direction I wanted to cast and then stood up. As I did the guard noticed me, but not before I yelled out, “Pyra!”
The great ball of fire covered the distance to the guard in the blink of an eye. I heard him scream and saw a fire start in the piles of supplies behind him. I used the ensuing confusion as an opportunity to run back into the shadows of the desert night, hiding from the increasing light of the fire.
The inferno grew rapidly and I heard shouts from all over the camp. I saw the guards jump off the walls to help put out the fire. That was a mistake. I approached the now unguarded sidewall and directed another fireball into the front part of the camp. After that, it was chaos. By then I had moved almost to the front of the camp. The front gate of the building flew open and four men ran out, carrying buckets and headed toward the stream. I waited until they were filling their buckets.
“Keravno,” I yelled, and a powerful lightning bolt flew from my hand and struck in the midst of the four men. All four went down. They did not move again. After that, I needed to gather more energy from the realms, so I sneaked back into the shadows and waited.
With no water to fight it, the blaze grew until almost the entire camp was burning. I could not believe how easy this was and I applauded myself for coming up with such a brilliant plan. Other than the fact that I was out of food, I was in great shape. I followed the stream, collected my bag, and climbed the small hill to look over the walls into the camp. By now the camp was burning from one end to the other, and it continued throughout the night.
By morning, the stacks of supplies and everything except the front of the camp were gone. A few hours later, I saw four men walk outside and bring in the bodies. They untied the horses and rode away to the north with the other mounts. I waited until they were well out of sight. Only then did I look at the camp. I was out of food and hoped the remains could supply me with food for the next part of my trip.
I walked through the gate and looked around. At the front were the wooden buildings. Inside, I found a large common room that looked like it housed the troopers. There were still blankets on a raised wooden platform, as well as four covered bodies — the men I had killed the night before. That made me uncomfortable, so I walked on. I found another large room with an oven and a place to prepare meals. I saw about ten loaves of bread and some cold beef stew left in a large pot. It looked like the garrison had made it the night before but did not eat it. I could guess why. I found some clean cloth to wrap the bread, left it in the common room, and walked into a single room with a single bed. No doubt this was the commander’s room.
Crack! I heard from behind me. I turned but saw no one. I concentrated my power anyway and moved outside. I still saw no one. I looked to my right and saw piles of bags still burning. I walked toward the fire. There was a presence in my mind, but it was weak. I had just passed the outside corner of the commander’s room when I heard something behind me. I felt the presence in my mind grow stronger. By reflex, I jumped to the side just as I heard a loud scream.
“Zari!*” it shouted, and in the next instant, I felt something dig into my right side, which exploded in pain. I turned and saw a Zilar trooper standing with a sword in his hand. He had attacked me and would have caught me full in the back had I not jumped aside.
I held up my arm and shouted “Pyra!”
I did not have time to concentrate, so what came out of me was small and diffused. That was fortunate because my attacker was not more than two paces away. The ball flew from my hand and hit him flush in the face.
He screamed and brought his hands up to cover his burning face. I reached for my fighting knife and while he was burning alive in front of me, I drove the knife into his chest.
The Zilar fell on the ground, his face a blackened, scarred mess. His nose and ears had burned off and his flesh was blackened to the bone. Only then did I look at my side.
There was a palm-length gash on my right ribs. The sword tip had cut into me at a depth of maybe half a thumbnail-length, but it hurt and it was bleeding. If he had struck me directly, he could have cut me in half. Stumbling back into the commander’s room, I found a clean blanket on his bed. I grabbed it and pushed it hard against my side. I sat down on the edge of the bed and started to concentrate. This time I directed the Life Magik into my own body. The power flowed into me and I concentrated it on my right side. I could feel the damage. Nothing major was hurt, but I needed to control the bleeding before I went the same way as the ethnarch’s trooper I had tried to heal.
The magik power flowed into me and supported my body. I concentrated on getting the bleeding to stop. It took a while, but finally I felt it was under control. By then, the blanket was half-soaked with blood. There were some scorched uniforms in one of the piles of supplies, and I cut off the unburned part and made a bandage. There was more good cloth there, so I took some with me for extra bandages. Looking around the camp, I saw burning wood everywhere. I set fire to the commander’s room and watched it burn. I took the bread I had collected earlier and chunks of stew meat and wrapped them in cloth too. I then set fire to that room, too. I wanted nothing left of this place. I found another Zilar uniform tunic and replaced my cut and bloody one. By then, I was feeling exhausted. I needed to rest.
Leaving the continuing inferno, I half-walked and half-stumbled out of the camp toward where the stream parted the mountain. My pack was where I had left it. I walked along the path into the mountains, turning aside at the hill from where I had viewed the camp before. I started to climb it very slowly. My side hurt like it was on fire and started to bleed again. It took a while and many stops, but I finally made it to the top. Once there, I looked around me. In the distance, there was a large dust cloud on the northern horizon. Next to some large rocks, I found a place where I could watch the camp from safety and still treat my wound. By now, even the front of the camp was on fire. Once safe, I went back to filling my body with Life Magik.
Toward nightfall, a large party of riders approached the camp. At least fifty cavalrymen escorted ten wagons filled with more supplies. The first thing they did was set up guard positions. Several of the riders set up a wide perimeter around the camp. Two riders traveled up the stream along the path into the mountains. I hid among the rocks so they could not see me from the camp, but it was obvious they were looking for their attacker.
It was not until late in the night that the fire in the camp finally burned itself out. The cavalry set up a new camp with two layers of security patrols. These Zilar were not going to be taken unawares like the ones earlier. I relaxed and ate. My dinner was a piece of bread and some stew meat washed down with water. The wound on my side was hurting, but not badly. I got some sleep that night. Rather than hobble away, I decided to stay put for another day to give myself a better chance to heal and gather my strength. By now, my Life Magik had repaired much of the damage. My body now needed time to finish healing the wound itself. It would heal faster if I was resting and not walking.
I thought about trying to burn the wagons, but decided it would be suicide. The Zilar were guarding their former camp well. Getting that close would be next to impossible and magik does not make one invisible. In any case, I estimated this load of supplies was equal to around one-fifth of the capacity of the previous camp, so they were not going to mount much of an invasion with just what was here.
The next morning, I watched the Zilar pick through the camp. It was not long before they removed the bodies of the men I had killed. I hoped the fire had burned them badly enough that others would not know what had killed them. The troops spent the day going through the camp to salvage what they could from the ashes. It is not from excessive pride when I say it was not much. If they recovered enough undamaged goods to fill only one wagon, they were doing well. At midday, one rider with two horses left the camp, quickly riding north. No doubt he would bring the good news to the Zilar commander.
As the red sun set in the sky that night, on the northern horizon at the limit of my vision, I saw at least a dozen campfires. Visibility at such a distance meant they were very large fires. Many more Zilar would arrive about midday tomorrow. That was my warning to leave. Hidden or not, I did not want to be that close to that many soldiers who wanted my hide served up on a silver platter. All it could take was one mistake by me or a very sharp-eyed guard and I would be dead.
That night I backed slowly down the hill and returned to the path. I turned right and traveled deeper into the mountains. There was one more task for me to do, and it was not around here. I needed to cross the mountains. I continued east. Close to the edge of the mountains, the path was easy to follow and stayed near the stream. It was not long before I reached the rock where Kypos attacked the archon’s party before. I passed it and then heard a familiar voice in my head.
“We thought you would come this way.”
I looked around and saw nothing around me. “I do not see you, my friend.”
“We are above you,” the Old Ones said. “I see you are hurt.”
“One of the Zilar troops cut me with a sword. I have mostly healed myself, but it still bothers me and slows me down.”
“Stay there, and we will come to you,” he said.
I heard rocks move above me, and the ground shook under heavy footsteps. The headless torso came down the hill just behind me.
“Greetings,” I said. “Thank you for coming down.”
“You burned the camp,” he told me.
“Yes,” I admitted. “It was the best way to slow the Zilar down. Now they have to start over to make a supply depot. It will take time, and in that time maybe we will be ready to meet them.”
“What about those in the camp?” he said.
“Many are dead,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That is regrettable, but less regrettable than having a thousand or more Zilar run through my land, killing everyone they see. You know they killed everyone in Dysiasty.”
“That does not give you the right to take revenge,” he said sternly.
“I know,” I said. “But this is the way that the fewest number of people die. We did not have to kill an army this time.”
“We are not talking about the camp,” the Old One said flatly.
So, he knew about that also. “Yes, that was me,” I also admitted. “The Zilar killed everyone in Dysiasty. That made me angry. I know what the Mage Code says about anger, but I also had friends nearby who needed protection. I kept them safe and killed known murderers. Did I have the right to judge them as such? No, but the situation demanded action and I took the best action I could. When the time comes, I will atone for that deed and the other deeds I have done or must do now.”
The tall figure leaned over, seemingly to study me with his headless and eyeless body. “You are going after the archon to kill him,” he said as a fact.
“Yes,” I told him. “He is trying to sell his own people to slaughter for his own personal power. He would destroy our entire vasíleio and enslave the people in it. I will not allow that. Without him, the Zilar will have a much harder time conquering us.”
“Who gives you the right to judge him?” the faceless figure said, showing impatience with me.
“No one,” I told him. “No one gives me the right to judge this man, but I have the right to protect my people from slavery and death. I accept the consequences of my actions and will answer for them if I am still alive when this crisis is over.”
The Old One stood up straight again. “Is that why you came alone and did not ask us for help?”
“That is one reason,” I answered. “If there are consequences for my actions, I want them to fall only on me and no one else. I will pay for any crimes I commit.”
“And the other reason?” the faceless one asked.
“I will take the risk here,” I said, feeling the pain in my side. “I want no one else to get hurt or die because of this. That is why I do this alone.”
“So be it,” the Old Ones said. “At least you are honest about your actions. We do not approve, but we understand.”
With that, I felt more vibration in the ground. Soon I saw another Old One come down the hill, carrying the hammock I had traveled in before.
The other Old One called to me in the same voice. “The archon awaits the Zilar at the end of this pathway. We will take you there quickly, but we will not help you any further. This deed you must do on your own, as you said.”
I bowed to them. “I humbly accept your help.”
I got into the hammock and we moved along the path. We walked the rest of the night and into the day. When I asked whether anyone had seen us, the Old Ones told me there were no others around. I took them at their word and went on.
We followed the path and the stream up the hills and into the high mountains. The higher we ascended, the narrower the stream became until it was only a sliver of water. The ground grew more barren and rocky as we climbed. Finally, when we reached the end of the stream, the ground was a dull, uniform gray and white, like my cave wall back home. It was a good thing the Old Ones were carrying me because I could see the path was rough here. It was also getting colder. I wrapped myself in the tent canvas just to stay warm.
After we left the stream behind, the path went downhill and then into a narrow valley about two horses wide. On either side were steep mountain slopes that led up to two high peaks. This valley went on for perhaps a milion. In the middle, I had the two Old Ones stop.
“This valley is very narrow. Is there any way around it?” I asked.
“No path a man can easily travel,” one of them answered.
That gave me an idea. “You remember what we did to the river to block it?”
“Yes,” one of them said. “You think to do the same here?”
“That is correct,” I said. “If for some reason I do not succeed, the Zilar will try to march their army through here. If we block it using large rocks as we did for the river, it will take them a long time to get through.”
The Old Ones went silent. “Such action would also not hurt anyone,” they said.
After a few moments’ pause, they answered, “Very well, Alex. If the Zilar or your archon tries to march their army through here, we will block it. We will not do it before then. We use this path ourselves.”
“I understand,” I told them. “Thank you.”
With that, we went on. After we passed through the valley, the trail opened up again. Another small stream ran along the widening path. I was glad I was being carried. It allowed me to rest and finish healing. It also allowed me to move without injecting myself with more Life Magik to reinforce my flagging strength.
After the valley, we started to go down. At first, it was all the same gray and white rock as before. As we headed downward, it grew warmer and I started to see plants and small animals. We descended quickly, with the stream growing as other mountain flows ran into it. About midmorning, I saw the first deer and then a pillar of white rocks. I looked at them, and it was clear other humans had put these rocks here. The pillar was old; the workmanship was crude. I could see one word chiseled deep into the stones of the pillar: APAGOREVETAI*. At the pillar, we stopped. One of the Old Ones turned to me.
“Here we must leave the trail and go up into the hills. Man will use the trail up to this point, but will go no farther. We do not go any farther down the mountains and hills because we may run into humans with their sheep and goats. They use this part of the path in the summer.”
“Fine with me,” I agreed. “The last thing we need is to meet other humans, especially humans in uniforms.”
They carried me up the hill and above the trail. We continued east, going over a series of hills that seemed to be getting smaller as we went along. Finally, we came to the top of a small hill and stopped.
“This is as far as we can take you. The open plain begins at the bottom of this hill. From here you are on your own.”
They put me down. “Thank you,” I said, and then sneaked up to the top of the hill to peek at the archon’s camp below. When I climbed to the top, I looked down onto the plain. The open green field was empty, with not a soldier or tent in sight. I did not even see any animals. I did see litter and the remains of many campfires. The archon had left.
“Where did they go?” I asked the retreating Old Ones.
“We do not know, but they have gone,” the two said and disappeared over the next hill.
I stood there alone.
 
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: PLUNGE

Now what was I going to do?
I was alone on a hilltop with two days’ worth of food left, barely any money, and no clue where the archon had gone. Added to those cheery facts were that I was still wearing a Zilar military uniform, I was filthy, I had no friends anywhere nearby, and I was still recovering from a sword wound. For one of the few times in my life, I was completely without any plan of action. I finally shook myself out of my stupor and started to think.
I was in an enemy land. I reasoned that any trooper I came across would treat any mage he found with great suspicion, if not open hostility. Therefore, I would stay dressed in my tattered Zilar uniform. For the next point, no one was going to believe I was a Zilar trooper. I was far too small and thin to be a real soldier. As a Zilar scout or messenger, however, I was the perfect size and shape.
My next challenge was to find out where the archon was. The army had been here recently; the litter on the meadow told me that. Maybe it would tell me something else of use. I walked down the hill and looked at the remains of a large campfire. It was cold, but when I put my hand deep into the ash, it was still warm at the bottom. That meant they had been here the day before at the latest. I kept looking, but other than some chicken bones, a couple of belt buckles, and a few broken arrowheads, there was nothing to provide any answers to my questions. The army had managed to leave a trail even a woodland novice like me could follow. The path of trodden earth led to the southeast, between two forests. I followed along the edge of the closest forest.
It was easy to follow the turned-up ground for the rest of the day. There were also piles of horse manure all along the trail. They indicated to me that the army was still about a day’s march ahead of me. When darkness came, I kept going. This trip was not doing my frail body any good. I was tired and only the use of Life Magik sustained me, but there was a limit to that. I needed to rest.
The march of so many people had scared away almost all the animals. Only the calls of the birds and the shrieks of the bats sounded through the silence around me. Occasionally I did hear movement in the trees above, but it was nothing large. Around midnight, I came to the top of a ridge, where before me shone the lights of a small town. I went out into the open to see better and sat down to eat some more of the stale bread. My stocks of both food and water were running low.
From my memory of the maps of this area, I knew it was the old polis of Midas. At one time, it had been home to teams of men who went into the hills searching for gold and silver. It had also been the supply center for the mines in the nearby hills. For years, it had been about the size of Korpolis, but right after I was born, the silver and gold ran out and the town’s population diminished. They might know where the archon had gone. If they thought I was a Zilar messenger, maybe they would tell me. I knew I would have better luck as a Zilar scout than dressed as a mage. I was going to think about a story I could tell them, but instead just fell fast asleep until after dawn.
The rest did me a lot of good. I spent the early morning working up a story to tell them in the city. I also spent time recharging both the Speaking Stone and my necklace. I finished my bread and water and walked slowly toward the town.
When I got nearer, I could see the polis walls had deteriorated. In places, they had crumbled to about half their original height. There was no guard on the walls or patrols outside the walls. The polis was not yet a ruin, but it was falling apart rapidly. I walked openly toward the front gate. Nothing happened until I got within fifty podia of the open gate. Then, a single man with a spear and shield stepped out into the open. I held out my hands and approached slowly. The spearman assumed a guard position.
“Halt! Identify yourself,” he called out.
I bowed and kept my hands in clear view. “I am Scout Sabas of the Zilar Horde,” I said, coming to attention. “I am on a mission to deliver a message to your archon. He was supposed to be in the valley next to the North Pass. Can you tell me where he has gone?”
“How did you find us?” the voice called out. The voice sounded old.
“I came out of the North Pass and found no one, so I followed the trail of the army. The path led me here. May I ask your name?”
“I am Asclepiades, of the Midas Guard. I am on duty this morning.”
Marvelous. He was local and probably knew as much as I did. “Very well, Asclepiades. May I ask where the archon went?”
The man took off his helmet, revealing a white beard. He was in his sixties at least. “I know the army went to Cos to camp at the junction of the main roads. I think the archon went with them, but I do not know for sure.”
I took a deep breath. This was getting me nowhere. “When did they leave here?”
“Yesterday morning,” the old man said.
“Very well. I need to follow them, but I am out of food and water. Could I buy some bread and fill my waterskin from your well?”
The old man smiled. “I think we can let you have some bread crusts and we can fill your waterskin. Ascalaphus, come here,” he yelled.
A boy ran out of the gate. He must have been no more than ten years old.
“Yes, Grandfather,” he said, beaming.
“Take that soldier’s waterskin and fill it,” he ordered. “Also, ask your mother to get some bread crusts for this soldier. He is on an important mission for our archon.”
The boy ran up to me, I handed him my waterskin, and off he sprinted into the polis. I sat down on the ground and waited. The old man, who kept his distance, started asking questions. I told him I had come through the North Pass with four others. During the trip, unknown assailants had killed the others. I had spent days in the North Pass, trying to carry out my mission. Considering the way I looked, it was an easy story to sell and not a complete lie. The boy came back with bread and the waterskin. I gave him a couple of copper pieces and thanked him. The boy went away happy, as if I had given him a gold coin.
“Cos is to the east of here, correct?” I asked the old man as I packed my things.
“Follow the track,” the old man said. “It will take you right there.”
“Thank you for all your help. I must go,” I said and moved away from the front gate.
“The gods go with you,” the old man said and waved.
I could only hope they were with me. At least I had gotten some food and water out of it.
From the maps I remembered, I knew the journey from Midas to Cos was about a two-day walk. Beyond Midas, the forest had been cut down to the north to make room for large, open fields. In better times, the people used the open land for farms that fed the old polis. The remains of old farmhouses and broken-down fences were all around me. There was even some wild wheat and barley growing in the former fields. These farms were not needed now that Midas was only a fraction of its past size. The people had moved on. I walked calmly along a well-beaten path. I was sure the army had gone this way, but that was all I could be sure of.
I walked until sunset and stopped in the open. As the red sun sank behind the central mountain, the open fields grew dark. I found a soft piece of grass and sat down. Again, I lit no fire to advertise my presence and ate some stale bread crusts washed down with water. When I looked out again, I saw a light a milion or more away. I looked closer and saw it was a single small light — a campfire. Maybe it was the fire of an army patrol. I decided to take a chance and walk toward it. It was small enough that I knew it could not be a big patrol. I continued advancing until I was about a stadion away and then dropped my pack. Now I could clearly see two people in the firelight, but no one else.
I got down on my belly and called out, “Khaire.”
Both troopers shot to their feet. One grabbed a bow and the other took out a sword. Then one of them remembered to move out of the light. He was lucky I was not a bandit; I could have hit them both with an arrow before they even knew I was there.
“Put your weapons down. I mean you no harm,” I called out.
“Who are you?” one called out.
“I am Scout Sabas of the Zilar Horde,” I called out. “I am on a mission to deliver a message to Archon Lycus.”
“Come forward with your arms outstretched,” the one holding the bow said.
“Coming in now,” I said and walked slowly toward the fire.
“No sudden moves,” the bowman told me.
“Would you mind pointing that bow somewhere else?” I said as I came into view. “I have been through Hades to get here, and I do not want to die now by accident.”
The bowman did not alter his stance a bit until I was fully in the light. The two looked me over and then lowered their weapons. “Where did you come from?” the swordsman asked.
“I came through North Pass,” I explained. “I expected to find your archon there, but he had left. I have an important message for him.”
“What is the message?” the swordsman asked.
“My orders are to give the message to the archon only,” I answered. “All I can tell you is that it is important.”
“Is it that your supply camp was destroyed?” the swordsman said with a half grin.
How could they know that? That surprised me. I decided to act stupid, which was not hard to do. “How by Aries did you know that?” I said and looked dumbfounded. “The five-man troop I was with was the first group sent with the message.”
“Five men,” the bowman said suspiciously.
“Yes, five men,” I repeated. “The other four are dead in the pass. Someone rolled rocks down on us from the hills and then attacked. I barely got away after some bastard cut me.”
The two looked at each other and the bowman shook his head. “We know we lost a troop leader and his guard in there. They went in and no one saw them again.”
“How did you know about the camp?” I asked, then added, “And why did no one tell us?”
“It probably has something to do with the archon’s new mage. Many funny things have happened since he got here. All we heard was your camp got destroyed. Afterward, the archon ordered the army to Cos. As to why no one told you, I have no idea.”
I pretended to look disgusted, which was also not much of an act at this point. If Lycus had a new mage, my job was going to be more difficult. I looked at them both. “Would you mind if I sat down?”
They motioned for me to sit.
“Thank you,” I said.
“What will you do now?” the bowman asked.
I took a couple of deep breaths as if thinking. “As the old saying goes, when in doubt, follow your orders. I will go see your archon. Besides, I will need his help getting back. I am not going to walk through North Pass again, that is for sure.”
Both men laughed. “There we do not blame you. Well, the archon is most likely in his palace at Erinia with his good food, warm bed, and pretty women.”
“I would have thought he would stay with his army, but what do I know?” I said.
“Well, he is not there,” the bowman told me.
“Erinia is to the north of Cos on the main road at the edge of the forest, correct?”
“That is right,” the swordsman told me, “but you should come with us to the army headquarters. The polemarch will know what to do with you.”
That was about as much as I was going to get, and there was no way I was going to see the polemarch for the archon. I could not leave anyone behind who would report my presence. No one would likely question the old man in Midas, but these two would mention me. I started to concentrate and pull energy out of the realms. “I think I will stay close to here for the rest of the night. By the way, I am very sorry for this.”
“Sorry for what?” the bowman said, starting to reach for his bow.
I cast a lightning bolt that struck both of them. They fell as if I had hit them with a tree trunk and then lay still. I felt bad since they were not trying to harm me, but I did not need any witnesses telling anyone they had seen me. I made sure they were both dead. I wanted this to look like a robbery, so I cut their throats and ransacked the camp. I went through their saddlebags to collect any food, water, money, or other items I needed.
I spent the rest of the night getting as far away from them as I could. No doubt someone would come looking for them when they did not return. I went east. When dawn approached, I found a depression in the ground and hid. I needed rest and a new plan. Both would come when I was more refreshed. I slept until well after noon, but did not move until after dark.
That night it was getting cloudy. Fortunately for me, I was close enough to Cos that the army camp and its fires were like a huge torch on the horizon. It was late when I found the main north-south road that connected Erinia to Cos. The road is built up about a podi from ground level and is ten podia wide. The dirt track was well worn and easy to follow. In my condition it would take two or three nights to march to Erinia. I had just enough food and water to make the trip.
On the first night, I stayed away from the road and marched along the bank. I was glad I did. Twice that night, a rider rode by at a gallop. I could hear him a long way off, so I was able to hide by the time he got to me. During the day, I stayed well off the road, hiding in pasture fields with only cattle as my companions. In daylight, I saw one other galloper racing back from Erinia along with several wagons of supplies heading south to Cos. Those were the army supplies; something was going on.
While I rested in the field, I started to think of how to get Lycus into the open. Inside his palace, there was no way to get to him. Out in the open was something else. My problem was how to do it.
As soon as it was dark, I continued my journey. Halfway between sunset and midnight, I heard a fast rider behind me. I watched a messenger race by in a hurry. It was the same as the night before. A little while later, I saw lights in front of me. At first I thought it might be some merchant camping out for the night, but as I got closer, the outlines of a small settlement came into view. Still closer, I could see it was a way station — a place where any messenger could exchange horses and continue his journey with a fresh mount. There were several such places in the vasíleio, allowing important messages and other communications to travel quickly. I approached carefully downwind so the horses would not smell me. There was a corral with eight mounts and a building where the post leader and his assistants lived while on duty. Normally, three or four men were assigned to a station.
As I looked, an idea started to form in my head. I needed to bring the archon out from his hiding place, where I might have the advantage. What would draw him out? The only thing I could think of was a threat to his army. There was no way the archon could communicate directly with his men at this distance, so he depended on messengers. What if a message told him of a disaster?
I decided to spend the night near the way station and watch. Just after midnight, another rider approached at a gallop. For me it was a three-day walk from Erinia to Cos, but a man on a fast horse, and getting a new mount halfway there, could do it in a day and a night. Two men came out of the hut and quickly transferred the riding tack from the messenger’s horse to another mount. The rider went in to refresh himself and visited a nearby outhouse. By then, the new horse was ready to go. The rider got on and left at the gallop. No one else came for the rest of the night. That gave me my second idea.
Toward dawn, I backed away from the way station and tried to sleep. During the day, only a merchant came by with more wagons heading south. They stopped only briefly to talk to the way station caretakers and then went on. There were no riders during the day. I watched three people come outside to feed the horses from a hay pile and a feed bag. At a stone well nearby, they filled a trough to water the horses. All three rode the horses around the corral for exercise.
That night I waited. As before, just after darkness a rider approached and stopped. They exchanged horses and after a short wait, he went on. Now was my chance. I circled around and approached the way station by the stable. As I got closer, the horses started to smell me, as I knew they would. When I got even closer, the horses started to neigh and call out loudly. The door of the station opened and out came three men. Two had bows at the ready and one held out a large iron sword. The two bowmen went over to the horses while the swordsman looked in the stables.
“Keravno,” I said, and a lightning bolt hit near the two bowmen. They both went down, raising a huge commotion among the horses. The swordsman ran out to see what was happening. It was a fatal mistake. He died a few moments later.
Now I had to work fast. I dragged the three men into the stable to hide them, then took a set of tack and readied a fresh horse. I went inside. It was a simple place: a small stove for heat and cooking, four straw beds, a supply room with food and other equipment, and a small desk to keep records. That was what I was looking for. I went to the desk, found a blank sheet of parchment and some ink, and started writing. I first crumpled the thin lambskin and then wrote in a hurried script. It had to look like the note was written in a near panic.
Camp attacked by fireball early evening
Many dead and burned
Polemarch killed along with officers
Camp on fire
Send help
Ber
The pen then left off suddenly as if in mid-letter. I folded the paper quickly and sloppily. Then I went outside with a knife and got blood from the recently deceased staff. I let it drip onto the parchment. To make the message look even more alarming, I lit a candle and singed one edge of the parchment. With that finished, I sat back. While I waited, I ate the dinner they had been preparing. It was not a bad stew. I went inside the storeroom and took dried meat, then made bread on the stove and put both in my pack. I had enough to last me five days. Then I filled my waterskin from the well. It was near midnight and things were as ready as they would ever be.
Just after midnight, I heard the fast hooves of a galloping horse approach. Next to the station, I could hear someone dismount.
A mature voice called out, “Eussorus, Faenus, where in Hades are you?”
“Get in here,” I grunted in a deep voice. “Faenus is hurt.” It was really not a lie.
I heard rapid footsteps. The front door flew open. “Are you two drunk again?”
That was as far as he got before my lightning bolt hit him square in the chest. He collapsed in the doorway with a grunt. After making sure he was dead, I dragged him inside and left. I quickly went to his horse and replaced the messages in his bag with my own. I took the bag and mounted the horse I had saddled earlier and started riding quickly toward Erinia. I was as sure as I could be that no one would find the bodies until well after dawn. I rode quickly, but not at a gallop. The messengers knew this road — I did not, and it was dark.
By late evening, the lights of Erinia had appeared. As in Korpolis, the road ran next to many darkened farmhouses. The smells of many herds of cattle, goats, swine, and sheep swirled around me as I rode by. I also passed the usual fields of grain. I slowed down and studied my surroundings. The closer I got to the polis, the fewer farms I saw, and the more small shops and warehouses appeared. A few lights burned, but it was mostly dark. No one stirred, at least no one near the road.
As soon as I caught sight of the main polis gate, I stopped and dismounted. I could see movement in front of the gate but could not see clearly to count the guards. I removed my backpack and the water bottle but left the message I had written in the saddlebag. I gave the horse a hard slap on the rump, and off it galloped toward the gate. Looking around, I noticed a warehouse with an open window. Staying in the open was a bad idea, so I climbed through it and landed on a dirt floor. Around me were filled sacks piled halfway to the roof. I had guessed right — it was a storehouse. It was a good place for hiding; I could still look out the window to watch the road.
It did not seem long before I heard an alarm gong in the distance. This racket continued for a while. Along with the gong, loud blasts from horns sounded a general alarm. They must have found my horse and its message. I could only hope my ruse had the desired effect.
I sat down on some sacks of wheat and closed my eyes. I hoped my task was coming to completion. As I tried to sleep, all that came to me was how many people I had killed on my self-appointed mission to save Argina. In all, I had been directly responsible for the deaths of around fifteen men, with many more likely to come. I could take heart in that they were all soldiers and knew what they had signed up for. Still, I had killed them — and killed them easily. Now I finally understood why they had drilled us so much at the academy about not using magik to harm others. Yes, it was immoral to kill, but with magik, it was easy, much too easy. A mage could lose his appreciation for human life and just do as he pleased. The master mages were correct. It was all too easy to play a god.
“What does that make me?” I wondered aloud.
Still, I was sure I had done only what had to be done to protect everyone in this eparchia from death, enslavement, or both. As for the archon, he was a traitor and I would treat him as such. Again, I was setting myself up as his judge and jury, and finally his executioner. I knew this was morally wrong, but no one else was in a position to stop him.
I could hear people gathering in the streets due to the alarms. I went into my pack, took out my mage robe, and quickly changed. If I had to kill the archon, I would do it openly as a mage. I took the old tent cloth and wrapped it around myself like a cloak to hide the robe. From the street, I heard people shouting.
“They are coming from the castle,” a man cried out.
I quickly climbed out of the building through a window that was hidden from the road and walked around the side to look. I left my pack by the window and stepped out into the open. Something was coming down the road. I started gathering as much energy as I could from the different realms, then stepped out into the street and waited.
“It is the archon,” someone from far ahead yelled out. I walked up to the street, still drawing energy. It was still dark. In front of me, I saw two horsemen in the lead, holding torches. Behind them was a troop of ten. The two at the rear were also holding torches. Behind them came two men who rode close together. As those two men passed, the people at the side of the road bowed low. That had to be them. Thankfully, the people were out of my way, standing aside to let the archon pass. I stepped closer to the road. Just as the two front riders were about twenty podia in front of me, I dropped my cloak and stepped into their path.
“Stop there!” one of the lead riders shouted and started to bring his lance down.
I had pulled as much power as I could from the realms. “Pyra,” I called out. A huge fireball took shape and I cast it down the road.
The fireball consumed the two nearest riders and the troop behind them. A chorus of blood-curdling screams erupted as men and horses burst into flames, reduced to ash in moments.
“Dynam – ahhhhhhhhhh,” I heard someone yell and then scream. It had to have been a mage. He had tried to cast a sphere of force to deflect the fireball. With the power I had used, he was only partly successful. It did deflect part of my fireball; instead of going down the road, a part of the fireball had veered to my left, crashing through a crowd next to the road and into two buildings that caught fire.
It caused an immediate inferno.
I moved quickly down the side of the road, past the incinerated troops, to the two men I thought were my targets. The man on the right had taken the full force of the fireball. He was ash except for the gold chain of office around his neck. I took my robe and picked up the hot metal. I looked at it quickly; it was the archon’s medallion. His horse had turned to its left, so it was burned on only one side, which was gone. Its left side was whole but blackened and the saddlebag looked damaged but was still intact. I grabbed it and looked around. People were screaming and picking themselves up off the ground. I could see the commotion and movement at the main gate. I used the last of my power to form a lightning bolt and threw it at the gate. The range was extreme, but I heard a huge clap of thunder when it hit nearby.
Next to what I thought was the archon was a man in a burnt long robe. It was the mage who had used a force projection to deflect part of my fireball, but it had not been enough to save him. On the charred skin of his back were the remains of a tattoo. It was a small flame. That was the school mark of the mages of Syrina. Thankfully, he was not from my school. Around his neck hung a red crystal necklace: he must have used that to speak with his mage brothers at the main Zilar camp. That was how the information about the Zilar camp had traveled so fast. I confiscated the necklace.
It was time for me to leave. I took one other chain of office from a rider in the next row, along with his backpack, and then I ran back to the warehouse to grab my own bag. I ran past the building and into the open field. The edge of the forest was about a milion away. It was still dark, and I could hear the chaos and cries from the town as people tried to put out the fires. I reached the forest and disappeared into its safety.
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DIRECTIONS

I sat alone in the forest, catching my breath. Around Erinia, I could clearly see the commotion continuing. People were working to put out my fires with buckets of water. Others were taking away those injured by my errant fireball. I knew most of those who had been hit were dead, or so badly hurt they would die. That was my fault. I should have realized a mage might be able to deflect some or most of my fireball. That mistake had killed innocent people. The soldiers I had killed did not concern me as much. They were in service to a traitor. As for the mage he had hired, I did not feel much at all for him. That a mage would hire himself out for such a purpose disgusted me. Then again, I have only been associated with mages from the school on Lantia.
From my hiding place, I could see the townspeople as they removed more of the bodies. The emptiness in the pit of my stomach grew deeper. I knew the only thing these people were guilty of was being in the wrong place at the wrong time; they should not have suffered the same fate as the archon. There was nothing I could do about that now — this was something else I would just have to live with. I knew the archon had no direct heir in this eparchia. That would not prevent someone from stepping in and taking over. It would throw the army into confusion, and that would buy us time. It was doubtful there could be any invasion before the next year. Now all I had to do was survive long enough to tell someone about it.
I had two saddlebags and my backpack. That was far too heavy a load to travel with. I opened the one from the general. The only things in there were some cooked meat, some flatbread, and cheese, along with a wineskin. He had a purse that contained about twenty silver drachmae. In the archon’s bag were a scroll case with documents, more freshly cooked meat, cheese, olives, bread, a wineskin, and a purse with ten gold and twenty silver drachmae. I would look at the papers later. I took the crystal I had found and put it into one pack with the food, water, scrolls, and money. I got rid of all my other clothes and stayed dressed in my robe. Now to leave, but first, I had an important decision to make.
There were only three ways out of Erinia. I could go north through the forest and then east until I picked up the main road that would take me to the port of Aegae, where I could book passage on a boat south to Kyrmpolis or Priaus on the east coast of Argina. With the money I had, I could easily pay for passage. It would be the easiest way to travel and, I was sure, the one route they would watch carefully. The second way was to follow the road back to Cos, farther south to Cyme, and then back to Korpolis. It was all open and well-inhabited land. I would have to do it all at night. It was also nearly impossible to pass without being seen. The last way back was the way I had come, through North Pass. It was not a choice any sane person would make, considering the reputation of that place. It was also the way they would least expect and would allow me to travel mostly under cover of the forest. The problem was I would need help. With the food I had, I could go perhaps five days. That would get me there, but then I would need more supplies to keep going south. Even so, it was still my best bet.
I decided since I was under the trees, I would walk in the forest during the day and sleep in the open at night. I started walking and continued for the rest of the day. Other than the birds, squirrels, opossums, and rabbits, I had no company. I saw no attempt from the polis to follow me. As soon as it was dark, I went out into the open and camped in the grass again, with no fire. That night I took out the Speaking Stone and charged it fully. Holding it in my hands, I concentrated and called out.
“Old Ones, can you hear me? It is Alexio Sopholus.”
I got nothing in return. I decided I would try again in the morning. That night I lay under the 342 stars and had a troubled sleep.
I woke before morning and put as much energy into the stone as I could. I called out, “Old Ones, please hear me. It is Alexio Sopholus.”
“We hear you. You are alive?” The voice sounded astonished.
“Yes, I am returning to North Pass. I must ask for your help when I get there in four to five suns. I will be out of food by then. Can you help me?”
“We will help you return. Did you find your archon?” he asked.
“Yes, I did. He was assembling an army. I managed to stop him. The archon is dead.”
“We do not approve, but we understand. We will get help for you.”
“Thank you. I will see you soon,” I said and then added faintly, “I hope.”
After eating and taking care of other necessities, I went back into the forest and continued. During the day, I moved quietly through it. I did stop once at midday to eat. I also read the scrolls from the archon’s saddlebag. The hard leather case had protected them from the fireball. What I read told me the archon had been planning to redeploy his army to the center of the eparchia and wait to see what would happen next. The Zilar would join him when they could. He did not seem too concerned about the disruption to his plans.
That night I had an idea. Come the next morning, I infused the crystal again with power and then, picturing the arch-mage clearly in my mind, I called out.
“Arch-Mage Herion, hear me. Alexio Sopholus calls to you.”
Nothing came back to me, not even a mere presence. This distance must be too great. I put that idea aside for the moment. Instead, I went on for the rest of the day, seeing no one around me. The same was true for the third and fourth days also. It was all very quiet, maybe too quiet, I thought. At the end of the fourth day, I could see Midas in the distance behind ruined farms. That night, I rested in an abandoned farmhouse, which was fortunate because clouds came in and it rained. That night I also finished the last of my food. The next morning, I continued for a while until after noon, when I decided to check and see if my friends were there.
“Can any of you hear me?” I called out using the stone.
“We hear you, Alex,” the Old Ones’ voice echoed in my mind. “Do not get close to North Pass. There are men camped there. They look like they are waiting for someone.”
“They also sent men into the forest near you and to the entrance to the path,” I heard Kypos speak up.
“Kypos, thank you for coming. Who is with you?”
“Kapria is with me,” the big boar said.
“As are Alkina and I,” Alkos butted in. “Aetos and Aerra are on the other side of the path, watching the others.”
That meant only one thing. “They know I left the polis. They also know the way I came. The men in the forest most likely have bows and will try to ambush and kill me. After dark, can the four of you cross over, out of sight of the others, and go into the forest? If you can, find these four men. You will need to take care because they will have bows and are most likely trained scouts.”
“We can,” the four of them said at once.
“Good. Let me know what you find. I will walk closer to you until dark.”
With that, I walked on in cover. My friends had a better chance of finding those men in the dark woods than I did. The dark comes quickly in the forest as there are no other lights around.
When it was completely dark, I stopped walking normally and started to creep as silently as I could toward where I thought the encampment would be. As I got closer, I could see four lights in the distance. I continued slowly until I was near the camp. I stopped at that point, crouched low, and waited.
Sometime after full darkness fell, I heard from Kypos. “There are two men together on the ground. They look like they are waiting for someone.”
“Do they see you?” I asked.
“No, we are behind them,” the boar said. “Kapria and I are together.”
The one bad thing about conversing mentally is that one does not know from what direction or distance the words come. In the dark, I had no idea where these stalkers would be. I looked around and saw a few rocks near me.
“Listen, I am going to throw a rock as far as I can. Tell me if you or the men can hear it.”
I picked up the nearest rock I could find and threw it as far as I could. You could easily hear the sound as it crashed into the brush.
“I hear it,” Kapria called out. “It was in front of me. Both men have turned and are pointing their bows at it.”
They were close. “Good. Now I am going to do it again, only this time, when they turn, will you attack them?”
“We will,” Kapria told me.
I tossed another large rock at a different place. It hit with a loud thud. There were a few moments’ silence and then a loud, scream that cut off suddenly.
“Both men are gone,” Kypos told me, sounding pleased with himself.
I heard sudden loud crashing through the forest in front of me. I moved to the edge of the forest just in time to see the outlines of two figures running across the open space toward the camp.
“The other two have left,” Alkos said. “Do you want us to chase them?”
That would put them in the open. “No! The other men in the camp might attack you. Look for any others in the forest. I am coming toward you.”
I got up and moved toward where I had heard the scream. It did not take much effort to find the men sent to kill me. Or, I should say, to find what was left of them. Being chewed by tusks almost a podi long does not leave much.
I felt the presence of two large beasts. I went over to Kypos and Kapria and petted their flanks. “Thank you, my friends,” I said. They both rubbed gently against me with their sides.
We all walked in the forest until we were just in front of the path that led into the North Pass. There were four tents and maybe thirty troops there, as well as several men on guard. There was no way to get across without being seen. If they would not go on their own, perhaps I could encourage them. I grabbed the Speaking Stone again.
“Old Ones, are you near the camp?” I asked.
“Yes, Alex, we are in the hills above the camp,” the voice told me.
“Can you roll a large rock down the hill near the camp, but not hit it? I want to scare them and make them leave without hurting them. I also want to give them a warning so we do not have to do this again.”
“That is wise. Tell us when you want us to do it,” the Old One asked.
“Very well,” I said to all my friends. “I am going to use a little magik to get their attention. I will not hurt anyone, I hope.”
I knew I could more easily destroy the camp, but with all the death and destruction I had caused already, I was not eager to have more lives on my conscience. With that, I concentrated and charged my body and the crystals until they were full, then stepped out into the open. The camp was about two stadia away, so my magik would not reach them, but they would notice it. I directed all the power into one large bolt. “Keravno,” I yelled.
The massive bolt of lightning flew from my hand and towards the camp. As I expected, only a small amount actually reached that far before it dissipated, but there was a thunderous boom.
It got everyone’s attention. People started running around the camp like frightened rabbits, shrieking curses. I drew more power and used it to make my voice louder.
“You, in the camp; this is Alexio Sopholus. I will meet your leader in the open and alone, now! If the rest of you want to live, you will stay where you are. Do not even try to hunt me, or all of you will end up like the other two in the forest.”
I waited and saw commotion throughout the camp. Several troops ran into one tent. A little later, one man walked out of the tent and lit a torch. He marched boldly into the field and walked about halfway across before calling out, “Where are you, mage?”
“Watch him,” I told my friends. “If he draws a weapon, then attack him. I will take care of the camp.”
“We hear you, Alex,” Alkos said.
I drew a little more power from the realms and called out “Selas*.” A glowing ball of light appeared in my hand. The marching figure looked at it and walked toward me. He walked like a man who showed no fear. He strolled up to me and widened his stance like a Colossus. I decided I would treat this formally as a magistrate.
“I am Zagreus, son of Telines, former Tetrarch of Gyarus. I have assumed my father’s position under the authority of the now deceased Archon Lycus.” He stood proudly, as if unafraid.
“Very well, then you also know who I am. Do you also know I am appointed a magistrate by the ethnarch?”
“Lycus did tell us that,” he said.
“Then as magistrate and in the name of the ethnarch, I proclaim your former archon guilty of treason for plotting to take over this vasíleio with help from the Zilar. As such, he was guilty beyond question, and I executed him. I now order all of you to return to your homes and wait for the arrival of the ethnarch and his army. He will judge you. You will all leave here and return home immediately. You will also restore the officials you have removed illegally.”
“Or what?” he sneered. “Oh yes, you are powerful and you have delayed the Zilar, but they will come eventually and this vasíleio will be ours. We are no longer weak here now, like before. The soft life of our ethnarch has made us meek and complacent. It is time we were strong again. Once we have our place here, then the other vasíleia will fall and the world will be under one power, the Zilar. The rest will do our bidding.”
“Or end up like those in Dysiasty,” I added.
“If necessary, yes,” he said boldly.
“Who is your leader now?” I asked.
“Ptolemy, a strategos who came from Syrina, is now in charge. He came with Mage Zephyr, the mage you killed.”
“Very well,” I said with a slight bow. “Thank you for the information. Now let me tell you something. The Zilar are not coming. They are not coming now, or later. I have already burned one Zilar camp to the ground; I will burn any others if I have to. If all else fails, we will block the Pass and no one will use it. You have no idea what forces are at work here.”
“Spare me your tales,” the man told me with a chuckle.
“So be it,” I said. I cleared my mind. “Please roll the stone down,” I told the Old Ones.
At first there was nothing, but then came a loud noise that intensified, followed by the crashing sounds of trees crushed by a huge rolling rock. The stone rolled by the camp and then into the middle of the open area before stopping.
“That stone could have easily rolled through your camp, crushing your men before it. As I said before, you have no idea what forces are opposing you. I do, and I have made them my allies. Now I tell you again and for the last time: leave here, go back to your father’s palace, and release him. As for you and the others like you, your day of judgment approaches. You will tell your allies of my message. Now go! I order it.”
The man laughed, then turned and went back to his camp. I was determined that if they did not leave by dawn, I would regretfully send a fireball into the camp.
The commander may have thought I was funny, but before dawn, we had the place to ourselves.
All of us crossed over and started up the path. By the time we reached the stone pillar I had seen before, it was well after dawn. Three Old Ones were there, waiting, with a hammock and a bag. I could smell the bread even though it was cold and stale.
“Thank you all for coming,” I said gratefully. “We have been successful. There will be no war now. What will happen in the future, I do not know, but for now there is peace.”
“That is good,” the Old Ones’ voice rang in my head. “There is trouble. Many Zilar are near where you burned the supply base.”
That was something else I could do nothing about now; what I could do something about was the growling in my stomach. I sat down in the hammock and ate half a loaf of stale bread. We moved through the North Pass all that day, some of the night, and the next day. By dusk on the second day, we were watching from the same hill we had perched on before. There, both Aetos and Aerra joined us.
“Two suns ago, many wagons came with many men,” Aetos told me. “The men set up their aerie and started to work.”
“They also brought many ships to the big aerie near the sea,” Aerra added. “Many men came.”
“That is not good,” I said. “It means the Zilar are still planning to invade.”
I started to study what was happening below. They were laying out what looked to be the plans for a large building. There were already several wagons with building supplies. They were going to make a large, fortified supply camp. That meant it would be a lot more difficult to burn it down next time.
“They will fill this camp and then march their army through the North Pass,” I told them all before turning toward the three Old Ones. “At that time, you may have to block the path through the mountains to stop them.”
“We see. Can you tell them like you did the others?” they all asked me.
“I do not think it will do any good, but I will try. It will mean we have to move through the night.”
I looked around and there were no complaints. I thought what I was doing was useless, but it might work.
“Very well. I will need to get their attention first, like before. All of you, please get back. This should not hurt anyone.”
I took out the Speaking Stone and again charged it fully. I figured I was about two stadia away. No way a fireball, even one as powerful as mine, would reach that far. In the night sky, it would make an impressive light show. I put all the power into a single blast and let it fly directly at the camp under construction. It flew straight for the front gate. Just like before, it dissipated into another fire mushroom.
The chaos immediately started. Troops started running around like stampeding cattle. I let it go on for a time while recharging my crystal.
“Watch your ears,” I called back to my friends. “This will be loud.”
I again called up the wind to carry my voice.
“Zilar!” I yelled. “Listen to the words of Alexio Sopholus. Leave here and go back to your homes. You are being watched. Your ally, the Archon Lycus, is dead. I have executed him myself for treason. Leave now or die in burning agony as your army did in the Forest of Allund. This is your only chance. Flee, you murderers, flee for your lives.”
While I was speaking, everyone in the camp had stopped running about and looked up at the sky, from where it seemed my voice had come. I saw men running for their horses. Some even leaped on their mounts only half-dressed, without even putting on the saddles. They rode off as if pursued by the Furies. Many just grabbed their weapons and stood around the central tent. A Zilar officer came out of the largest tent and started shouting. I could not hear his words. I suddenly got an idea. I again pulled as much power as I could and called out “Keravno.”
The lightning bolt flew to the camp and struck the ground in front of the commander’s tent. At that distance, it had lost almost all of its power, but it was still strong enough to knock many troops off their feet, including their commander.
“Flee or die!” I yelled again.
That did it. Even those around the commander ran for their horses. There was a general rush to abandon the fort. Soon, even the commander turned tail and ran. I turned to my friends.
“Let’s go before they all figure out that was an empty threat and come after us.”
We all left and moved quickly for the rest of the night. Come dawn, there was no one behind us. We moved through the day also and stopped before sundown. We were still alone. I told Aetos and Aerra to fly back to the forest and tell everyone I should be back by tomorrow. We continued on early the next morning, and the trip home was uneventful. I thanked all my friends and then said a prayer of thanks for myself. They all returned to their homes, and I walked out of the forest and toward my hut. It was just before nightfall.
“Khaire,” I called out to the hut.
Melina came to the door immediately, but she seemed to be alone. She ran out the door, hugged me, and kissed me passionately on the mouth. “I was not sure I would ever see you again,” she said, smiling.
“You almost did not,” I told her and then looked around. “Where is everyone else?”
“Back in Korpolis,” she said with a broad smile.
“What happened?” I needed to know.
“Mastor from the polis guard rode here two days ago,” she went on. “He told us the new oligarch, who had taken Cleon’s place, and his fifty men all rode out of the polis before dawn and have not been seen since, so Cleon, Theresa, Philie, and Iolaos all went back. Philie sent a message saying they had ransacked the palace and stolen many things, but they were gone.”
“I can understand why,” I said in a low voice. “Lycus is dead.”
“Dead?” Melina repeated. “How do you know that?” She looked at me as if expecting something awful to happen.
“Because I killed him,” I said bluntly. “I killed a few of his commanders and his mage and burned down the Zilar supply base.”
“Alex, no,” she said.
“Yes, I did,” I told her. “It was the only way I could be sure this invasion would not happen. At least not for a while.”
I walked toward my cave before turning. “I also had to kill several others. This was not a pleasant trip.”
I walked back to my cave. The first thing I did was get oil and clean myself thoroughly in the pond, washing off the dirt and smell of my travels. I then put on a clean robe and went to the cave. I took out the Speaking Stone and once more recharged it, pictured the arch-mage and his room clearly in my head, and tried to send my message.
“Arch-Mage Herion, can you hear me?”
There was an immediate response. “Alex, I am here. I have been expecting to hear from you, but have heard nothing for many days.”
Knowing these connections did not last long, I just blurted out, “I was able to destroy the Zilar supply base near North Pass. The Archon Lycus is also dead. His army is now led by his polemarch. The men who usurped Oligarch Cleon of Korpolis have also fled. Cleon is back in his office.”
There was a short pause as if the arch-mage was taking a deep breath. “Alex, were you responsible for Lycus’s death?”
“Yes,” I answered simply. “It was the only way to make sure the Zilar would not invade.”
“I see,” Herion said. I could feel his disapproval. “The ethnarch is still getting better. Polemarch Xanphos just left with the army heading for Korpolis.”
“I will see him when he gets here,” I said. I could feel the connection disappearing. “I will come to you as soon as I can,” I said, and then everything went dead again.
I felt drained and suddenly very tired. Then I heard footsteps and a knock on the door. Melina was there, carrying a wineskin.
“Code or no code, you look like you could use this,” she said and handed it to me. “It is not watered at all.”
I raised the skin and took a long drink. The wine was strong, and I almost choked on it. I put the wineskin down and looked at Melina again. Her dress was on the floor.
“I thought you could use this also,” she said and started to remove my mage robe.
She was right on both counts.
 
CHAPTER NINETEEN: JOURNEY

We both rose early the next morning and bathed together in the pond. One of the real joys of bathing with a friend is they can reach the spot in the center of your back that you can never quite clean yourself. There are other advantages that I found especially interesting, even after our carousing the night before.
Breakfast was a bit late that morning.
I helped Melina make some fresh dough; to this we added some honey and dried fruit. It made an excellent meal. I hardly even noticed we had not bothered to fully dress again after our bath. I knew my friends might be watching, but I did not care. At certain times of the year, they behaved likewise, and as with me, nothing would ever come of it. Although they had the advantages of large size, high intelligence, and long life, they were as neuter as I was.
I was still curious about one thing. “When the others left, why did you stay here?” I asked her.
She smiled again. “I wanted to be here when you returned. I did not want you to wonder what had happened to us.” She trailed off, and I knew there was something else.
“Go on,” I said, now openly grinning.
“I also wanted to stay because I like this place,” she said, looking around. “Even though I cannot speak to them, I like our friends. I think I especially get along with the wolves and unicorns. You know, the unicorn Keros lets me ride on his back. It feels wonderful. It is like I am Apollo, riding in his sun chariot across the sky. It feels almost as good as our bath did.” Her cheeks flushed for a moment.
I put my bowl down, went over to her, and lifted her even though she was still slightly taller than I was. I kissed her passionately on the mouth again, then looked up into her beautiful green eyes and asked, “Do you want to stay here? It will be rougher than your brother’s palace. There will also be no comfort from children.”
“I understand,” she said and gently stroked the back of my neck. “I will still go back to Korpolis from time to time, but yes. I would not mind staying here with you.”
I reached around and pulled her close to me. I could feel ripples going down her back. I reached down and embraced her. “If you want to stay, I will gladly be your husband.”
“I would like that very much,” she said.
“When we go into the polis, I will have the priest of the Pantheon perform the ceremony.”
“I do not need a priest telling me I am married,” she said. “I feel married now. Only one thing,” she added with a smile.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Will you please move into the hut with me?” She continued to grin. “I would rather make love on a bed and not a stone slab. It is easier on my back.”
“Anything you want,” I said and kissed her again and again. “Come, wife,” I told her and let her into the bedroom. There, I made love to my wife.
Several days later, Philie rode to our hut. Our friends saw her coming and were all there when she arrived. After kissing Melina and me, she hugged them.
“I have missed you all,” she said and petted each of them in turn.
“What brings you here?” I asked.
“Two things,” she said. “The first is that Polemarch Xanphos will be here with the ethnarch’s army in two days. He has sent a message that he wants to see you. From here, he will go north to demand the surrender of the rebels. The second is in three days’ time, Iolaos and I will marry in the Temple of Zeus and Hera. You are both naturally invited.”
“Of course we will be there,” Melina blurted out and kissed Philie on the cheek. I followed. Our animal friends took turns nuzzling Philie, who returned their affection. “I would gladly invite all of you,” she said. “But I think if I walked into the temple with you, there would be a panic in the polis.”
Keros walked up to her and rubbed his side against hers. “We understand, Philie, but you must come see us.”
“I will,” she said, smiling broadly. “I will come, and so will Iolaos and eventually our children. I want them to know all about you.”
I was not so sure that was a good idea, but decided to keep my mouth closed. There would be plenty of time to worry about it later.
“Are you riding back today?” I asked.
“I would like to stay here tonight if you do not mind,” she said.
“No, I do not mind,” I said. “You and Melina can stay in the hut; I will sleep in the cave.”
“We can all ride into town together tomorrow morning,” Melina added.
That sounded like a great plan. For the rest of the day and night, we traded stories and I told her what had happened on my trip. During the telling of my tale, I could see she was uneasy at times. After I finished, she just shook her head.
“You have changed, Alex,” Philie said with disapproval. “Yes, at one time you were far too hesitant to use your power, but now I think you are getting too eager to use it. That you burned the Zilar base is fine; they are murderers and deserve little pity. However, what you did to the archon is not as clear. Traitor or not, a senior magistrate should have been judged by a court, not by you. Granted, most likely his judgment would have resulted in his execution.”
“I could not take the chance he would work with the Zilar to invade,” I countered. “We saw what happened to Dysiasty. Did we want that to happen to any polis here? You yourself complained I was much too lenient with the Zilar. Here, I acted decisively to solve the problem with as little danger to all of you as I could manage.”
“I understand that,” Philie told me. “But I still think you should not have killed the archon and the others.”
“Perhaps you are right,” I admitted. “I took much upon myself in dealing with Lycus, but there was no one else to stop him and time was short. He was already well into his preparations for war. All he needed was Zilar troops and he would have made everyone in this eparchia his slave, or they would be dead. I did what I thought I must to prevent that from happening. Now that the threat is gone for a while, I am perfectly willing to go back to living here, which is all I ever wanted to do in the first place.”
“For all our sakes, I hope you are right,” Philie told me.
I went to my cave, not knowing whether to be angry with Philie for her criticism. It did not matter now; I could hardly go back and undo what I had done. What would happen to me, I could not say. Others would need to make that decision.
The next morning, we all rode into Korpolis and I reunited with my other friends. Cleon threw me a big party. He did not criticize my actions, and no one else seemed to mind. In fact, I was cheered in the streets, which made me ill at ease. The news had gotten out about the archon’s death, and that resulted in joyous approval by everyone.
In the late morning of the next day, a large force appeared to the south. From the walls, I saw a cloud of dust rising from the feet of many men and horses. Just after noon, a party of ten riders approached the gate. It was Xanphos.
Cleon, Theresa, Philie, Iolaos, and I met him in the main hall. At Xanphos’s request, we held a simple dinner that night. After an unusually small amount of drinking, they cleared away the food and plates. Afterward, Xanphos asked to talk to me alone. Cleon let us use his study.
“The ethnarch ordered me to question you, Alex,” he told me flat out.
“Understood. I was planning to go to Arginnia soon, in any case,” I answered.
“Just tell me what happened,” he said seriously.
I told him the entire story, from the time I left the forest until my return. The only part I left out was the part my friends played. I also told him why I had acted the way I did. By the time I finished, only the night servants were awake and only the night lights glowed. Other than plain water, we had nothing to drink. Other than to take care of physical necessities, my talk did not stop. Finally, when I was done and Xanphos had stopped asking questions, he sat down in Cleon’s chair.
“I will admit you have made my job easier. The talk you had with that troop leader by the North Pass made the journey around the eparchia. I received messages from two other poleis on the way here — the men sent by Lycus to rule them have left, and their appointed rulers have been restored to power. I am sorry to say many of the magistrates, especially the tetrarchs, were killed. Theron was one of them.”
That meant Theresa had lost her father. The news that the others had given up surprised me. I had not expected them to quit so easily. “Sounds like the rebel leaders will flee. If they do, I suggest letting them go and not punishing the rest, especially if they submit without fighting.”
“I agree, and those were my orders from the ethnarch,” Xanphos said.
“Are the ethnarch and arch-mage all right?” I wanted to know.
“Both will live,” Xanphos said. “Both are old men, and although the poison did not kill them, it weakened them. That is why I am here. I have Diomedes, the ethnarch’s younger son, with me. His older son Pallas is still in the south, dealing with other problems.”
I was glad about that. “I hope it will only be necessary to put things in order here and appoint a new archon. I did not see any widespread support for this rebellion, just a bunch of hotheads who wanted things their way.”
“I agree,” Xanphos said. “However, there is one issue that needs resolving.”
“Me,” I said bluntly. “Are you here to arrest me?”
Xanphos smiled and shook his head. “You are quick, Master Mage. Yes, you are becoming a problem, but no, I am not here to arrest you. I doubt I could even if I wanted to, and I do not want to.”
“Then what?” I asked.
“I was ordered to send you to Arginnia alone to see the ethnarch, arch-mage, and archiereas. They all have many questions.”
“I was going to visit them anyway,” I told him.
Xanphos got up and sat down on the corner of the old oligarch’s desk. “I am torn here, Alex. As before, you have prevented what might have been a calamity for us. I think, with what you have done, this rebellion will go nowhere. The plans of the Zilar have been put back maybe another year. However, killing the archon and putting the fear of the gods into their leaders’ heads was presumptive. You presumed the power of the ethnarch in judging the archon yourself. You presumed the power of the gods by destroying as you pleased, although I will not say without cause. You have also presumed to set yourself up as judge over your own Mage Code. That is not sitting well with the mages in Arginnia. Although they will freely admit you may have stopped many poleis from suffering the fate of Dysiasty, they dislike — and I think fear — you. I think you are a hero, just like those from our past — and like a hero from our past, you may suffer because of it.”
“So be it,” I said. “I never wanted the power I have, and I certainly did not want to fight the Zilar, but the situation demanded it.”
Nothing in the polemarch’s words was new to me. “I take it I am to go to Arginnia,” I continued. “Very well, I will go. I will attend the wedding of my two friends tomorrow and then I need to talk to my other friends and tell them where I am going.”
“They told me to send you immediately and alone. I even have a personal guard of eight men from the ethnarch’s own Imperial Cavalry to escort you there.”
“So I do not get lost?” I questioned in jest.
Xanphos laughed loudly. “Something like that.”
I smiled and then grew solemn. “I will attend the wedding of my friends, and I do need to see my other friends. If I suddenly disappear, those friends may go searching for answers, and you may not like how they do it. Do not worry — I will not run away. Besides, if I really did not want to go, those eight men would not stop me.”
Xanphos laughed again. “I do not think so either. Very well, that is acceptable. I think Cleon will put up the guard for a few days.”
“Good. I will prepare and then go with them,” I said.
Xanphos got up from the desk and offered me his hand. I eagerly took it. “I do not know what will happen,” he said. “What I do know is that many in this land who are alive would not be without you. I would gladly follow your commands, Alexio Sopholus. May whatever gods exist go with you.”
We parted, and I went to my bed and lay down next to Melina, who snuggled up to me. It still took me a long time to fall asleep.
Philie and Iolaos’s wedding was a raucous affair. Since most of the guests were military, the wine flowed freely. They held the party in the square. I had Melina pick out a gift for them — a nice dinner service set for six. I cashed in some gold dust. Besides some bruised jaws and broken chairs, nothing much got damaged. It was only after the wedding and the party, when we were alone, that I told Melina I had to go to Arginnia.
“I do not like this. Some of your friends should go with you,” she said bitterly. “You have done nothing wrong.”
“I know, but the ethnarch ordered me to go alone,” I said. “They want to examine my conduct, and I must admit it requires examining.”
“Well, they also need to examine that the polemarch’s army is not going to have to fight a battle to bring this eparchia back under control. The Zilar will also not invade through the North Pass. All of that because of you.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “Nevertheless, I want you, Philie, and Cleon to ride with me back to the hut. I need to show you all something.”
“In case you do not return,” she said and almost jumped out of bed.
“That is up to forces I have no control over,” I said. “Whereas I may deserve censorship, I doubt I have done anything that requires execution. Still, just as Malcor took precautions, so will I.”
Melina turned her back to me in bed and did not say anything else for the rest of the night. All I heard was an occasional sob.
The next morning at dawn, we all rode to my place with three guards. Once there, I went up into my cave, took out the Speaking Stone, and fetched a small garden spade. Cleon ordered the guards to stay by the hut while Melina, Philie, Cleon, and I walked to the clearing. On the way, I called my friends to meet us.
“I will speak aloud for the benefit of my friends,” I told the animals. “I have been ordered to go to Arginnia to talk to the ethnarch. I will be gone awhile. I will not take the Speaking Stone. I am going to bury it next to the little stone monument. In this way, Philie can come use it if she has to. Watch over it. If the arch-mage decides to appoint another guardian to this forest, I want you to watch him. When you think he can be trusted, show him the location of the Speaking Stone.”
“Will you return?” several of them asked me at once.
“My friends, I do not know,” I told them, and that was the truth. “While I was away, I did many things the ethnarch and arch-mage might feel are wrong. The arch-mage may decide to replace me because of that.”
“Would anyone else understand us?” Lykos said.
I repeated the question for my human friends. “Malcor learned, I learned, and Philie learned, along with Cleon and Melina. If they can learn about you, and come to like you, then so can others.”
“Will the Zilar come back?” Alkos asked.
“That I also do not know. Certainly they will not come soon. The archon traitor is gone, so it will not be easy to invade. I hope they do not come back, but they may. If they return, you must help whoever is here to fight them.”
“What if the others come after us?” Alkos went on.
“Then you must hide. They cannot find you in here. Go into the hills if you have to.”
Keros stepped forward. “It will not be the same if you are not here,” he said.
“I hope that is not the case,” I said. “If someone new comes, help him as you helped Malcor and me. You have been the greatest friends any mortal could have. I will miss you all.”
I felt my eyes tearing up, so I turned away and walked back to the hut. The others followed for some distance. I showed them how to unlock the secret compartments in the cave. After I put all the scrolls and other things away, I sealed the cave. The only things I took were the crystal necklace, several of my mage robes, and my personal things. We got back to Korpolis at dusk, and I spent one more night of utter bliss with Melina before meeting my escort early the next morning.
In the square, I met the eight-man cavalry squad, commanded by a lochagos no less.
“I am Lochagos Nomiki, commander of this detail,” he reported as if I were a superior officer. “My orders are to deliver you unharmed to the ethnarch. I must ask you to stay with this detail at all times. We will be riding hard and resting at the way stations at night during our journey. This will be true for all but our last night, which we will need to spend in the open.”
“Thank you, Lochagos Nomiki,” I said. “Although I can ride, I am not a horseman. About how long will the trip take?”
“Since we will be changing horses at the way stations, I estimate we will get there in six days.”
“Then let us be off,” I said and climbed up on my horse.
Our journey started uneventful. When one rides with eight men carrying bows, lances, and swords and dressed in light cavalry armor, none are eager to interfere. We stopped once after midday to eat prepared meals of bread, cheese, and olives and to water the horses. That night, we stopped at a way station. We ate well but took no wine. I stayed in the station commander’s room, which looked recently cleaned at every station. They had also replaced the straw bedding. As soon as I was inside, they shut the door behind me, with a guard positioned just outside. I did not know if it was to keep people out or to keep me in. It did not matter. I slept well.
This procedure was repeated for the following three nights. Changing mounts and taking only what we needed, we made quick time on our trip. We stopped in no poleis or anyplace else, but rode straight through. At dawn on the fifth morning, we got our mounts and Nomiki told his command, “To remind you, today we ride easy because we have to ride these horses into Arginnia. We will also ride with a packhorse since we will camp in the open.”
“Lochagos Nomiki, why do we not stay at the way station closest to Arginnia?” I asked privately. “It is at best an easy day’s ride from there to the polis.”
“That way station burned down shortly before we left. Must have been a stove fire that lit at night because no one got out and the station burned to the ground. We will camp there tonight.”
We rode easier that day, which was good for my increasingly sore bottom. That night we stopped by the charred remains of a large wooden building — now reduced to just burnt sticks poking up from the ground. The fence was still in good repair, but the stables were gone, as was the main building. It was plain that the fire had started in the building and moved to the stables.
While the troop set up camp, I decided to look over the ruins. I admit I was suspicious of the timing of this place’s demise. I walked around the remains. It had burned to the ground, as many wooden structures do. Then I saw a small scorch mark on the side of the building facing the open plains. I walked over to it and felt the burnt grass. It was all ash that crumbled between my fingers. That meant whatever burned there had been extremely hot.
In the diminishing red sunlight, I examined the remains of the wood. It was then I made another discovery: The scorching on the outside of the wood was greater than on the inside. That meant the fire had been hotter on the outside of the building than on the inside. That led me to the conclusion that this place had burned from the outside in and not the other way. Looking over to the troop, I realized it had been destroyed deliberately, by something hotter than any stove flame. A mage had done it.
I put a stoic smile on my face and went over to the camp before darkness set in. One of the men was preparing dried fish and beans for dinner, which was fine with me. Everyone ate heartily, except me. I complained about an upset stomach, which was not far from the truth. Then one of the troopers said he had found a wineskin on the pack animal and asked if they could all have a drink. Lochagos Nomiki ordered them to have one drink only. All the troops drank, some more than one sip. They handed me the skin, and I took a small sip and passed it on. It ended up empty.
Up until then, they had locked me away from the banter of the troops. That night, I remained quiet; soon I noticed several of the troops yawning, and I suddenly felt very tired. With as little motion as I could, I started pulling power out of the realms. I focused the power inward and started to look at my own body. My heart was slowing. My mind felt weary. My muscles were fatigued as if after strenuous exercise, yet I had not performed any. I transferred power into my heart and other organs to boost them. It was not poison, for there was no damage to the organs. I noticed the speech of the men — it had started to slur. That was when I knew someone had drugged us. The yawning among the troops increased as the night went on. Then they started to fall asleep sitting up.
That was my signal to collect my things. I lay down on my ground blanket, then pulled my other blanket over myself and pretended to sleep. I continued to draw power into my body until I was sure I had neutralized the drug. I slowly started to draw power from the fire, and the glow dimmed until it went out. I rolled up my blanket, stuffed it under my backpack, and covered it with my outer blanket. I rolled away as slowly and quietly as possible. I did not know whether someone in this party had drugged the wine or if it had been an outsider. I was not going to stay there to find out.
When I was twenty podia away from the camp, I rose to my feet and kept going until I was about half a stadion away. Then I waited. It was a long and boring night, and I must have fallen asleep for a while because the first thing I saw was a light in the camp. One man was on his feet, carrying a lit torch. All the others were sleeping soundly. He took out his dagger, walked over to my blanket, and without a word or any other hesitation, stabbed the blanket with the dagger several times. He then pulled it up and saw he had killed my backpack. That was all the proof I needed. Quickly, I stood up and approached. He held the torch high, looking for me. He must have seen me because he raised his knife again. By now, I had collected the necessary power from the realms.
“Keravno,” I called out, keeping the power low. The bolt hit the man and knocked him clean off his feet. The torch fell, almost on top of him. Mostly out of concern for the others, I hurried over and relit the campfire, then went to the nearest horse and took some rope out of the saddlebag. First, I tied his feet together, then tied his hands and arms behind his back, and then tied the ropes that bound his hands and feet together. This man was going nowhere.
Now what? I wondered. Do I wait until everyone wakes up, or do I move out alone? My assassin worked alone. He was not ultra-violent or he would have slit the throats of the other troopers. To me, that meant I was his only target. I doubted the ethnarch had ordered this. He would have sent a much bigger troop and they would have just murdered me when we were alone on the road. I was not so sure about the arch-mage. There was still the matter of the way station. I was now sure someone had burned down the station for this very reason. Until that night, I had been sleeping under guard in a way station room. It was nearly impossible to murder me there. As I was examining the situation, I realized this idiot might not be alone. I killed the fire and laid flat on the ground.
That was the way things remained until the sun came up.

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