Magician Prince (20 page)

Alia put her arm around her father and helped
him down to the castle grounds. Half of the remaining magicians
would have to stay at their posts while the others rested before
trading off, but with a temporary break in the fighting the council
would have to take a tally of their losses and plan their next
move.

By the time Xander and Alia arrived most of
the other council members were already there and waiting. Xander
took his seat at the head of the table. “It seems that most of us
are here,” he said as he looked across their familiar faces. The
old masters: Alia, Riona, Skynryd, Levak, and Ryonus were all
present and only a few of the newer ones were missing. They were
either overseeing the men still on the walls or were dead.

“That was an imposing bit of magic,” said
Riona, “I look forward to learning such a spell, grandmaster.”

Xander smiled at her like a doting father,
“In time you will, but sadly not today.” To the council, he asked,
“How have we faired?”

It was Ryonus who answered. He would have
already collected all of the information that Xander would want.
“We lost nearly a hundred magicians today.” Under most
circumstances the loss of a hundred soldiers would be considered a
small thing and even a victory on the battlefield. Xander killed
that many alone in the last few minutes of the day’s battle, but
when your army only had four hundred troops to begin with that kind
of loss was more difficult to take.

“And the kingdom?”

“They lost close to two thousand men by my
estimation. Their magicians were used like fodder and lost half of
their numbers. Like us they are down to three hundred.” Ryonus
announced solemnly. No one here wanted to be fighting others of
their own kind. In another day or so, the kingdom magicians would
be obliterated in a war they were forced to fight against their
will where victory only meant more death or subservience to the
lesser humans. “Their Kenzai were relatively unscathed although it
is difficult to tell since they are mixed in with the regular
soldiers. The rest of the losses came from the general
infantry.”

“And the warships?” asked Xander.

As overseer of the naval battle, a master of
water magic by the name of Tantellus Marimas answered, “ We dealt a
strong blow to their navy. They came with twenty warships and we
sunk nine of them along with a number of smaller vessels. Of our
magicians, we only lost twenty, but the wall took extensive damage.
However, if they breach the sea wall and try to board the castle
docks, we can wipe out the piers fairly easily.”

“That is good news,” admitted Xander, “It
seems that we can safely move some of our men from the sea walls to
bolster the flagging magicians on the land side.”

The healer Skynryd suggested, “We should
consider retreating and regrouping. We have lost a quarter of our
army. Our forces are not large enough for this kind of warfare. In
a few more days we will be completely wiped out. We should be
focusing on the hit and run tactics that have worked so well up to
now.”

“What of Xander’s magic?” asked Levak
Altermas. “If you did that kind of magic a few dozen times, you
could annihilate their army almost on your own as grouped together
as they are now.”

“I could,” agreed Xander, “but that required
the sacrifice of a magician’s life. He was dying in front of me and
told me to take his power. Otherwise I would not have done that.
Taking the life of a lesser is one thing, but I won’t take a
magician’s life and break our code. Of course, if there were
volunteers…” Xander looked around the room and few of the masters
were even willing to meet his gaze at the suggestion. “It is as I
thought. There are few people so noble as to sacrifice their lives
with certainty. Fighting for your life in the heat of battle is one
thing, but to give up your life, knowing that there is no chance of
survival, is another matter entirely.

“The source of that power is not to leave
this room. Tomorrow when we are fighting and I am walking the
ramparts I do not want to be looked on as some carrion vulture that
is waiting on his next meal.”

The council agreed to that, but Old Father
Skynryd was not entirely satisfied. “We should still consider
evacuating the castle while the most lives could be saved.”

“We stand at a point where we could cripple
the kingdom’s army and usher in a new era,” said Xander,
“Evacuation may be necessary, but not yet.”

“Evacuating now would lead to the loss of
nearly a hundred apprentices,” added Ryonus. “We only have enough
magicians that can do a transportation spell to save two hundred of
us. The rest would have no chance of fighting off the army on their
own. If we were to leave, then it would be like we were the ones
killing them.”

Skynryd was not happy with that, but had to
agree with Ryonus’ point. “Then we will fight on, it seems.”

Tomorrow it would be time for Byrn to make
his appearance and the kingdom’s soldiers would be destroyed to the
man, thought Xander, then you will see, Old Skynryd. I just need a
little more time to rest.

The kingdom attacked with their cannons on
land and at sea with the rising sun the next morning. The display
of Xander’s magic from the day before was enough to cause them to
rethink their strategy of rushing the Collective despite their
advantage in numbers. Tomlin could not blame them for their
cautiousness, but he could not help wondering if Xander was capable
of such awesome magic, then why did he not use such spells at the
start of the kingdom’s attack and drive them off from the very
beginning? Maybe there was a limit to what he could accomplish.
Only Xander knew the full length of a grandmaster’s abilities and
the rest of them were left to wonder at just what was possible for
a magician who had surpassed all others.

Tomlin had not expected to be put on the
front lines. His magic was nearly useless in such a battle. His
silver tongue and subtle magic gave him a leg up when it came to
getting out of trouble, but in a battle of armies and titans he was
out of place. He could not throw a fireball like Byrn or summon a
monster like Xander or create a shield like Levak, but their
numbers were weakened and every magician needed to do his part and
so Tomlin stood on the rampart aiming one of the Collective’s
trebuchet’s into the mass of soldiers along with some of his fellow
enchanters that could not serve as directly as their brethren
did.

The trebuchet flung stones taken from broken
pieces of the wall from the day before into the nearest soldiers
that would have been out of range if not for the aid of an
elementalist that made sure that the wind was at their backs and
carried their payload a little farther.

He knew that he should have been glad to man
the catapult. Every little bit helped to defend the castle, but at
times like this he couldn’t help feeling inferior to many of his
fellow magicians. Six years had passed since he began his training
under Alia and although he was nearly a master at his own
discipline he could not manage any other type of magic while many
apprentices could perform basic spells from any discipline. The
funny thing was that so many others looked up to him. They thought
he was brave and quick witted and he let them believe that he
thought so too, but underneath his cocky attitude and jokes, when
he lay in bed at night he wondered if he was really good enough and
if he could rise to the occasion when it mattered.

“Loose!” yelled another enchanter and Tomlin
looked around, but realized that the man was talking to him and he
pulled the lever sending more rocks through the air. Tomlin hoped
that volley would kill a few more soldiers, but would never get the
opportunity to see where his stone landed.

The wall suddenly shook underneath Tomlin as
it was hit with a cannonball. The top of the rampart began to
collapse inwards to the castle courtyard below and Tomlin leapt
from his spot beside the trebuchet to the nearby safety of the
walkway. The enchanter who had yelled at him a moment earlier to
loose his payload had made the leap as well, but hung from the
rapidly deteriorating edge of the parapet. His grip was slipping
and he was about to fall when Tomlin grabbed a hold of his arm and
struggled to pull him up. Another man who had been loading stones
fell beside them. Tomlin wanted to reach for him, but could not
without letting the enchanter go. His grimoire was in his cloak’s
pocket and he used it to tap into his magic. The image of a
protective ball of magic around the falling man flashed in his
mind’s eye and he willed it into being with all the mental effort
he could muster, but the power did not obey. Tomlin watched
helplessly as the other magician fell to his death.

He helped the enchanter he had been holding
onto to the walkway. “Thanks be to you, Tomlin,” he said through
heaving breath.

Tomlin nodded, but words escaped him as he
replayed the other man’s death in his head.

The wall shook again as it was hit with more
cannon fire. Their magicians were stretched too far to adequately
defend from the kingdom army’s superior weaponry on all fronts.
Tomlin climbed back to the top of the wall to get a lay of the
land. Soldiers were moving closer to the castle near the front
gates, but moved cautiously in case Xander loosed another of his
spells. Tomlin suddenly understood that they were preparing for an
attack!

“Cannon fire at the main gate!” he shouted to
anyone that would listen, but no one seemed to take notice. All
around him magic and weapon fire was being exchanged and his fellow
magicians were far more concerned with their own little pieces of
the battle. All about him there were a hundred small battles taking
place making up one giant war.

He ran across the walkways before he knew
what he was doing. The booms of the cannons, so far away, suddenly
felt like they were right on top of him. The cannons were adjusting
their aim and firing as they went to keep the Collective from
figuring out what was going to happen. At least twenty magicians
were stationed near the gates and when the cannons across the
battlefield all focused on that one spot the gate would be breached
and the soldiers would be in position to rush in.

Levak was in command at the gate directing a
group of elementalists to lay down suppressive fire against the
advancers. Tomlin yelled his name, but was drowned out by the
sounds of fighting. The bard rushed ever closer.

“Ashura’s ass! Levak! Shields!”

The magician with the fiery red whiskers
turned in Tomlin’s direction with a questioning look. He mouthed
the word, “What?” though Tomlin could not hear him.

Tomlin drew in his breath and shouted as loud
and as long as his lungs would allow. “All men to shields!” For a
moment, Levak only stared at him, but another round of cannon fire
snapped the strongly built magician back to the battle and he
looked up to see a dozen cannonballs flying directly for him.

“All magicians to shields!” Levak ordered and
his voiced boomed with enhanced volume thanks to his physical magic
so that all nearby could hear. Half a dozen shields, in addition to
Levak’s own, were immediately thrown up in a patchwork attempt to
protect the wall, but it was not enough as the cannonballs
shattered much of the gate and portions of the wall where magicians
stood mere moments before.

Tomlin’s ears rang and he tried to find Levak
amidst the bloodshed. The bodies of magicians littered the entrance
to the gate and the walkways leading down. Those that fell were
surely dead, but some of the people who were still on the wall
might only be stunned. “Levak!” he shouted in desperation as he
made his way through the carnage. “Levak!”

Then he saw the bloodied face of the
warrior-magician as Levak got to his feet. His knees seemed like
they were about to buckle as he stood up using his staff as a
crutch. Levak wiped blood away from his forehead before it could
run into his eyes.

The sounds of hand-cannons firing came from
below and were answered by the crack of lightning and the roars of
rushing water. Voices called for reinforcements frantically. Tomlin
scaled down the walkway with the agility of a cat. His dagger was
in one hand and his spellbook was in the other without him even
thinking about it. The scene that was playing out before him was
one of complete chaos as soldiers with their special armor glowed
brightly while they struck out with swords and axes against magical
barriers that wavered with each new attack and true Kenzai warriors
caked their weapons in blue light while they threw around their
anti-magic fire.

“Ashura, protect these men!” Skynryd called
out with his staff raised high and a green light shined on the
harried magicians, closing up minor wounds and restoring their
vigor. It was the first time that Tomlin had ever heard the man
affectionately referred to as “Old Father Skynryd” swallow his
pride and invoke the goddess’ name to infuse him with healing
strength. Though it seemed that the old father and the goddess had
been on the outs for many years, in this instance she had chosen to
answer him in his moment of greatest need.

Tomlin weaved an illusion of darkness over
the soldiers eyes, the Kenzai would be largely immune to such a
spell, but the men at the front of the struggle began to flail
wildly so that they occasionally hit each other, but more
importantly left themselves open to more focused attacks from other
magicians who were trying to regroup and drive them back beyond the
castle’s entrance.

Levak and a few other magicians who had been
on the wall when the cannons fired caught up to Tomlin and ran past
him. Levak drew his sword and jumped into the fray. He fought like
a man possessed as he was driven on by his magical affinities that
served to make him a warrior that any man in his right mind would
fear. Tomlin watched and it almost seemed like everyone else was
moving at a slower speed as Levak ducked under one soldier’s wild
swing and buried his sword into the side of a man on his right. As
he pulled the blade free one of the Kenzai tried to strike him, but
Levak erected a small shield with his staff and deflected the
sword. Then he dropped the shield and brought his sword down on the
Kenzai’s head with an overhead slash. His left arm jutted out and
he caught a third soldier in the gut with the bladed end of his
staff.