Battle Mage: The Dark Mage (Tales of Alus) (13 page)

Turning his thoughts to Garosh and his allegiance to the Dark Emperor, the mage thought that it was as Atrouseon surmised. Mulling what he knew with what he had just been told, Palose replied, “While I think that he follows the emperor, if he is away too long, there may be a problem. As long as he returns to see the emperor to renew their bond, I think he will obey and follow the emperor’s demands.”

His answer seemed to have no affect on his master’s mood, however, and Atrouseon contemplated their shared words, “Without some form of control over him, I fear Garosh may turn from the emperor, but I hope that you are right.”

Walking forward through the hallway, the warlock and his apprentice said no more on the matter. It was a dangerous topic to be speaking in public, Palose thought, but wasn’t worried in the least. He had already died once. What more did he have to lose?

The sounds of metal clashing and shouts of soldiers fighting each other seemed to surround the battle mage as he watched his two new “students” looking confused as to what they needed to do. Sylvaine had worn her usual tunic and skirt as if the girl planned to train with magic in the school
courtyard. Making matters worse, the apprentice removed her white tunic placing it carefully on a bench revealing the twisting white cloth she wore beneath to hold her breasts and maintain some covering as any young woman should. Her slippers were lightweight and she looked ready to remove them like she had for using earth magic.

“I’ve never seen anyone train in a skirt and slippers before,” Palose stated to the apprentice unsure of whether he should laugh or complain.

Looking down at her lightweight clothing, Sylvaine stated in surprise, “But I always wear something like this to train.”

Turless wasn’t much better, but at least he wore breaches though he still wore leather shoes. His tunic of gray was passable, but neither would be protected from a wood sword if they wished to train with weapons. The boy still seemed unsure as he glanced around the training field. Men, orcs and even a handful of trolls were nearby. This field was one of the furthest to the west and Palose could make out the massive building known as the breeding pit in the distance. The dark races making up much of the emperor’s forces lived surrounding the building, but compared to the enormous building the houses were easy to ignore.

“You aren’t practicing magic here, Sylvaine,” he said trying to be gentle as he liked this girl, but unable to truly weed out his disbelief in the wizard’s naiveté. He directed the two to a table laden with protective gear as well as a few practice swords. Two complete novices could hardly start with real weapons, but even a wood sword could prove dangerous in the wrong hands.

Taking a pair of pads designed to protect the forearms and hands, Palose tossed them to Turless as he pulled a second smaller pair for Sylvaine. Not bothering to hide his preference for the girl, the battle mage took her right hand lifting it up and demonstrating how to put them on for the other apprentice. “These go over your hands and arms as long padded gloves.”

Sylvaine held still with a bemused smile as Palose pulled first one and then the other over her hands. Brushing her skin more than he needed to, the trainer wished again that he could have more time alone with the girl. He was certainly attracted to her, but wasn’t sure that he should try to act on his feelings. Then there were those kisses, he considered as the mage quickly finished assisting Turless. There was no wasted time with the male apprentice and Palose soon gave him a second set of pads to go across his thighs. Real sword practice would allow the weapons to strike exposed points anywhere on the body. In battle, a cut leg would slow an opponent and could prove as effective as any other attack.

A second set of pads sat in his hands as he considered the girl and her outfit. Unsure of how to act upon this gear, it was Sylvaine who sighed and tied one over her left leg. It was the limb that was exposed by the side slit. Being right handed, if she used a shield it was the lead leg. He would have let her just use the one, but the girl took the second sliding it beneath her skirt. The cloth was lifted in a less ladylike manner, and Palose found his eyes unable to look away as she exposed more leg.

Before he thought that she could catch him, the young man turned to check on Turless. Able to tie the pads with both hands, the apprentice had finished easily enough. Last he had them throw on a pad that covered from chest to groin, front and back. Tied at the waist he could only add a helmet and shield to better protect them. The second item he would give them after the basics.

“Is all this necessary?” Sylvaine asked looking uncomfortable in all the padding.

Without answering, Palose gave the girl one of the wood swords, the lightest one, and demonstrated how to hold it as he took one for himself. Turless took his own weapon waiting next to the girl. “A sword has different ways to cut and wound. The point of a long sword is pointed for thrusting to pierce a man’s armor.”

Poking each student with the wood sword caused them to back off in surprise. The pads took the blow in the abdomen just below their rib cages. Sylvaine frowned at the treatment as she recovered her footing.

“It can also be used to slash or even decapitate an enemy with a precise blow.”

He swung at Turless first this time. The apprentice tried to move the sword fast enough to block. Even moving at half speed, Palose’s attack was too fast for the young man to counter. Three crossing attacks struck his right leg, abdomen and his left arm as Turless tried to stop him with his padded arm.

Calling out like he was in pain, the apprentice backed away.

Sylvaine’s eyes widened thinking the mage sadistic in his teaching methods. He came at her the same way striking legs, abdomen and once again a shielding arm. Her sword never moved in anything other than defense as the girl raised both arms in fear.

Sighing at his novices, Palose commented, “The pads are on you to protect you from real pain, now stop complaining. If I had struck you on skin, you would be black and blue from a real strike or if I used an edged blade you would both be short a hand.”

With pouty lips and eyes that looked more emotionally hurt than physically, Sylvaine complained, “How does just hitting us teach us anything?”

“First, it teaches that using these pads will make any hits barely hurt you.”

“Says you,” Turless complained rubbing at the pad on his arm.

“Second, it shows me what instincts, if any, you might have. Turtling to protect your face, would only see your arms cut off before a swordsman killed you if this was a real battle using steel swords.”

The two apprentices looked upset by the abuse, but Palose knew that this was nothing. Battle mages fought in pads as cadets for hours and went to bed bruised. Real swords came later and pads were slowly removed to elevate skill or become wounded. How well these two could deal with such training was yet to be seen, but Palose could tell that it was going to take a lot of time.

“What are apprentices doing in pads playing with wooden swords?” a gruff voice questioned echoed by a chorus of agreement from more.

Palose glanced in the direction of his addresser noting a man nearly as wide as an orc with light brown skin. The man’s jaw was square as any orc, but the mage was pretty sure this was still a man. His fellow soldiers, who had been distracted by his training session, ranged from human to orc as well; which half surprised him. It was still hard to envision an orc being intelligent or little more than a beast intent on killing, but they were similar to men and elves, though more often prone to violence and animalistic snarling in a fight.

“Is there something wrong with teaching them how to protect themselves?” the battle mage asked putting himself between the soldiers and his students. He could feel Sylvaine and Turless growing worried behind him. Though they were all supposed to be serving the emperor, they were young and untrained. If a fight erupted, he knew they would be unlikely to use much of their magic before they would be killed.

The soldier tilted his head trying to gauge Palose and his potential skill. “You are an apprentice also?”

He didn’t have to answer such questions, but if the right answer came out of his mouth they would be safe. “An apprentice to wizard magic, but trained to the sword most of my life.”

Drawing his sword, the man advanced on Palose looking ready to test him. “We’ll see about that,” he replied.

“Stone sword,” the battle mage varied his stone skin spell to strengthen the wood practice sword. Against a steel weapon, the wood was likely to break like kindling without his magic to protect it.

The spell did nothing to slow the soldier’s advance and the two came together in a quick dance that could prove lethal should either lose track of their opponent. A half dozen attacks from the man were
countered by Palose easily even without his reflex spell. He was no slouch as a swordsman though there were many battle mages that were better back in Southwall. While he was a match for the soldier, Palose didn’t allow himself to get too cocky either. The man was competent and likely holding back at first. Few good swordsmen gave away all their moves in the first seconds of a duel.

Counterattacking after giving ground a couple steps, Palose gave as well as he received driving the soldier back. Both men soon stepped back nodding their heads in respect to their opponent.

“Not bad for a wizard,” the man declared replacing his weapon in its scabbard.

Palose couldn’t do the same since it was a practice weapon, but he held it low in a stance that appeared unlikely to harm the unarmed soldier. His reply to the comment was, “I wasn’t trained as a wizard or warlock. My background was as a battle mage. We’re more closely compared to soldiers with magic than wizards who play with swords.”

The man laughed at the disclaimer, “Wizards playing with swords. I like that.”

Other laughter from those close enough to hear, came from around them. Sylvaine looked somewhat annoyed by the joke at her people’s expense, while Turless simply looked tense at all the attention from the soldiers.

“I am Sergeant Arno and these blockheads are from Ceran Company. We don’t usually see you wizard types this far west, except for a few passing through to the pits,” the soldier explained as he received several nods from the other soldiers. “You seem to at least know how to use a weapon, which is rare for their kind,” he gestured towards the two apprentices.

“Which is why we are here,” Palose replied curtly with a nod. “We have limited time to train and they asked me to help expand their skills.”

“Well, we should leave you to it then, since you obviously have your hands full with those two if you expect them to figure out how to use a sword anytime soon,” the sergeant added as he turned to herd the others before him as he waved his hands.

In turn, Palose faced his students, both of whom seemed less eager based off of the rough start to their lessons.

“That was rude of them,” Sylvaine stated with her pouty lips.

Turless looked pale and said nothing as the apprentice gripped the hilt of the wood sword with white knuckles. Taking his weapon in hand and replacing it on the table, Palose eased the boy onto the bench as he laid a hand on his shoulder a moment. “The people of Southwall are all supposed to be on the same side, but wizards and their individual schools are very territorial. They don’t like sharing with battle mages or soldiers. In fact, even the water school dislikes fire and they often try to ban each other from a space they want to use at the school. Apparently Ensolus is no less divided, even with the emperor driving the city.”

Looking up at the citadel to the east, Sylvaine shook her head saying, “There hasn’t been a strong sense of leadership from the central keep as long as I have been alive. Plans are still conceived and armies leave to test the wall and countries surrounding us on all sides.

“I’ve always heard that our armies outnumber Southwall and our warlocks are more powerful, yet I have never heard of a decisive victory that I can think of.”

Palose picked up one of the shields he had appropriated and passed it to Sylvaine, whose eyes widened slightly at his continued businesslike approach. Her complaint was heard, but the mage seemed unwilling to comment at first. Positioning the girl into an approximation of a soldier’s stance, the battle mage stepped across from her raising a blue, magic shield on his left.

Encouraging the girl to swing at the shield, they began to slap at each other with the wooden swords. While he slowly moved to the right and left to make Sylvaine adjust to strike, he finally replied, “Southwall has been bloodying Ensolus’ nose since the emperor arrived. One can assume he used up a large portion of his strength and may have come close to burning out his body in the process.

“For now, it is like an old, ailing king trying to send his men onto the battle field to fight for him out of duty. They have some encouragement to go, but in the long run they feel little for the fight.

“Southwall has been fighting for its life and people. It has much more to lose and the soldiers fight tooth and nail to protect their loved ones and nation. The emperor gave his opponents the reason to and will to fight, while his armies merely obey his will.

“Ensolus will never win until the emperor can lead his people again.”

The girl frowned. “If Ensolus is so weak, why did you come here?”