Nature's Servant (65 page)

“Okay,” Gaspi said.

“Any more questions?” Voltan asked.

“Yeah one more,” Gaspi said. “Why is it some people haven’t enchanted their warrior’s weapons or armour? Sabu’s swords smashed on that swordbreaker, and there was that big guy in plate mail whose armour got shredded by the force-whip.”

“Yeah, what’s that all about?” Taurnil echoed.

“They
were
enchanted!” Voltan answered. “I should have explained this. It just never came up because we always practiced without enchanted equipment. Jaim placed an unbreakable enchantment on Sabu’s swords, and against ordinary weapons it would have held, but the gypsy’s swordbreaker would also have been enchanted to shatter any weapon it blocks. When two enchantments directly contradict each other, it is the stronger spell that wins through.”

“Oh,” Gaspi said. “So Delami’s enchantments overpowered Jaim’s?”

“Exactly,” Voltan answered. “Jaim is excellent at careful and precise spell-work, but he isn’t particularly strong. He didn’t stand much of a chance against Delami.”

“Kusar wasn’t very strong either,” Gaspi said.

“Yes but he was very clever, and he fights with his fists as well as with magic” Voltan said admiringly. “He is a warrior mage in every respect. He took a risk and knocked his opponent down with a physical attack. That illusion was extraordinary! He and the warrior he fights with understand the true spirit of sword and sorcery. Now unless you’ve got any more questions, I suggest you go and get some food and drink,” he said, changing the subject. “But don’t eat too much or too fast or it’ll slow you down this afternoon.”

They did as they were told, eating a medium-sized portion of cold meat and potatoes and washing it down with water. It was important to stay hydrated throughout the afternoon, so they each took a large pewter mug of water back to their seats when the time came for the tournament to resume. When all the teams were back on their benches, the mayor strode out to the centre of the arena and lifted his staff.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,” he started, waiting for calm to descend. “THIS MORNING WE HAVE BEEN ENTERTAINED BY SOME OF THE CHOICEST TEAMS IN THE KNOWN LANDS. THIS AFTERNOON WE HAVE AN EQUALLY DISTINGUISHED SELECTION OF COMBATANTS WHO WILL FIGHT FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT.”

Something about the mayor’s choice of words rankled Gaspi. Was this just entertainment, a spectacle for the audience’s enjoyment? Voltan thought of it as an ancient and renowned tournament, and many of these magicians fought for honour and tradition. Had Sabu been injured for these peoples’ enjoyment? The mayor’s manner, combined with his flamboyant robes of office and a hat that could only be thought of as silly
, made light of the gravity of the occasion, and the seriousness of the competitors. Come to think of it, that wasn’t the only thing wrong with this tournament. Why did they only announce the magicians’ names and not the warriors’? He had to assume it stemmed from some ancient prejudice that the magicians were the more important competitors, but that was nonsense. It was a sword and sorcery tournament after all, and both members of a team should be treated equally. And why could Delami get away with risking Sabu’s life just because it wasn’t against the rules? The rules clearly needed updating, along with a lot of other things. Frowning, Gaspi looked around to see if anyone else shared his discomfort, but it was difficult to tell. Taurnil was blatantly not listening to the mayor, interested only in the combat itself. Realising it wouldn’t do any good to get all wound-up, Gaspi decided to put his irritation aside for the time being and take the same approach.

“THE TIME HAS COME TO CALL THE FIRST MATCH OF THE AFTERNOON,” the mayor continued, raising his staff high and waiting while the cloud of lights burst from its tip and spelled out the names of the combatants. Gaspi’s palms were sweating as the lights shaped themselves into letters, but it turned out that it wasn’t his turn to fight. It was Voltan’s!

“THE FIRST MATCH WILL BE BETWEEN…VOLTAN AND REMSTRACHT!”

He and Taurnil leaned forward in their seats as Voltan and Jonn made their way out to the centre of the arena. Their opponents were northern men from the icy reaches of the Broken Ranges. Both men were stocky and bearded, robed and armoured exclusively in white, right down to their leather boots. The warrior had enormous bushy eyebrows and a long, blond beard that was tied in three thick braids. He wore a broadsword on his back and knives at his waist, and he looked as strong as the mountains he
hailed from. Gaspi’s heart was in his mouth as they prepared to fight. He cared about Jonn more than life itself and over the last couple of years he’d really grown to respect Voltan as a man of great integrity, and a formidable warrior mage. In that moment, he was more desperate for them to win than he was to do so himself.

“TAKE YOUR PLACES!” the mayor shouted, and the two teams entered the enchanted circles of light. “BEGIN!”

Remstracht and his warrior separated immediately, clearly preferring to split the fight into magical and martial combat, but Jonn and Voltan were having none of it. Voltan flicked a sharp strike at the warrior, forcing Remstracht to throw out a shield or lose his warrior as soon as the bout had begun. The shield caught the strike and held, but Remstracht had learned his lesson, rushing over to join his warrior. If Voltan and Jonn were going to fight as a team, separating themselves was clearly a losing strategy.

Voltan tapped Jonn on the shoulder and he advanced in a crouch, swords held before him in readiness. Voltan stayed close behind him, positioned slightly to the right so he had a full view of his opponents, his fists blazing with power. Gaspi had always known Voltan was strong, but he’d never appreciated just how strong until that moment. The power swirling round his fists was greater than that summoned by any magician so far.

Remstracht stepped out in front of his warrior and stamped on the ground, sending an earth strike rippling towards Jonn and Voltan. Gaspi wondered if perhaps he thought to take advantage of Voltan’s choice to work as a team, hitting both of them with the same attack, but Voltan had no difficulty quelling the energies in the strike. He held his hand out, palm facing downwards, and the strike passed them by, leaving the ground around them unaffected. Jonn and Voltan advanced, unperturbed.

Remstracht flung a force strike at Jonn and stepped back behind his warrior. Voltan deflected the strike easily enough but, while he was distracted, the large warrior ran at Jonn, brandishing his sword and yelling at the top of his voice. It was intended to intimidate, but Jonn wasn’t
fazed, parrying the heavy sword stroke and stepping aside, slashing at the warrior as he passed. The blow ripped right through the warrior’s mail, spraying chain links across the sand. Remstracht threw a broad air strike at Voltan and Jonn, trying once more to score a hit on both of them with a single spell, but Voltan parted it around them and retaliated in kind, putting Remstracht back on the defensive.

The large warrior spun around and ran at Jonn again, swinging his heavy sword as he approached. A broadsword was typically used by big, strong fighters who thought they could power through any defence, but Jonn was a seasoned warrior, capable of outmanoeuvring any fighter who relied on strength alone. As the large warrior attacked, Voltan summoned power into both hands and split his spell-casting into two streams. With his left hand he hurled strikes at Remstracht. Even using only half his strength, they were still enough to keep the white-robed magician on the defensive while he channelled the remainder of his power directly into Jonn. It ran through him like a flood, his swords glowing as the powerful enchantments they were imbued with came to life. Gaspi knew that Voltan had enchanted Jonn’s swords to hit hard harder than they ordinarily would and to be unbreakable, but it seemed that there was a third layer of enchantment that he hadn’t known about.

Jonn knocked the broadsword aside and leapt in to attack, testing the large warrior with feints and jabs. The warrior was good enough to tell the difference between his feints and his genuine attacks, but when he blocked them he struggled with the strength of the blows, as if each of Jonn’s blades landed as heavily as his own massive broadsword. Gaspi assumed that the third layer of enchantment enhanced the power of each blow even further when power was channelled through them, making Jonn’s attacks formidably strong.

Jonn was mercilessly smashing the big warrior around, which radically changed the pace of the battle. Gaspi didn’t think the
white-bearded warrior could last long under the onslaught, and true enough, pieces of his armour ripped and flew off as he sought to defend himself. The decisive moment came when one of Jonn’s blades sheared right through the enormous broadsword and the large warrior threw up his hands in surrender. Seeing that the match was all but lost, Remstracht also started to lift his hands.

“WAIT!” Voltan shouted, dismissing Jonn and facing off against the other magician, giving him a chance to compete. Remstracht would have to surrender the match after this bout, as his warrior had no serviceable weapon left and his armour was completely shredded, but Voltan wanted to give him a chance to stand and fight on even terms.

Remstracht nodded respectfully and summoned power, mirrored by the warrior mage. Remstracht attacked first, forming a white, misty globe and spinning it at Voltan’s head - another spell Gaspi couldn’t identify. Voltan didn’t summon a shield. He just lifted his hands and caught the strike, holding it in the air for long moments, his forearms tensed as if he was wrestling with it. Gaspi wondered why Remstracht didn’t attack again as Voltan struggled with the white substance, but he just stood there as if frozen. Moments later the substance began to compact between Voltan’s hands, shrinking in on itself until it was a tiny ball of white light, before disappearing altogether. When Voltan’s palms met, squashing the white substance out of existence, there was a sharp detonation, like two giant hands clapping, and Remstracht staggered as if struck, barely able to keep his feet. With a flick of his hands, Voltan lifted sand from the arena floor and pelted Remstracht with it, before summoning power to his fists and running at the other magician. The power surrounded each of his hands like a sheath, and Gaspi knew immediately what he was doing. He was using his hands as magical weapons, just as he had against Everand back at the college.

The warrior mage ripped the curtain of sand aside and attacked, breaking through Remstracht’s shield like it was nothing and beating him with the edges of his flattened hands. The magician reacted as if he’d been kicked by a horse, staggering under each blow. Voltan delivered a volley of blows to his chest and punched him in the gut. The white-robed magician doubled over and Voltan slammed a palm up into his face. The bearded magician’s head snapped up, his body flying backwards, and he landed spread-eagled on his back in the sand.

“WINNER: VOLTAN!” the mayor announced when Remstracht didn’t move, and the crowd celebrated what was a truly magnificent display of sword and sorcery.

“Voltan is a force of nature!” Taurnil said.

“Tell me about it,” Gaspi responded. The warrior mage had outclassed Remstracht on every level. He was the more powerful magician, his tactics were better, and he worked more closely with his warrior. On top of that, he was deadly with his fists as well as with magic.

“I can’t see them coming back for another bout,” Taurnil said.

“Me neither,” Gaspi answered. “They don’t even have a weapon!”

Sure enough, when the healers brought Remstracht around he conceded the match straight away and the crowd roared once again in appreciation of Voltan’s skill. Taurnil was chuckling to himself as Remstracht was led away from the arena floor.

“What’s so funny?” Gaspi asked.

“Remstracht probably
thought Voltan was doing him a favour when he let him carry on. I bet he doesn’t think that anymore!”

Gaspi laughed. “No, I guess not!”

As the next few matches passed, Gaspi strategised with Taurnil, feeling the immediacy of his own involvement in the Measure drawing nearer. His nerves ratcheted up notch by notch as teams were called, and he started to wish the mayor would just call his name and be done with it. Despite his mounting anticipation, when his name was finally called he wasn’t at all prepared for it, and sprang out of his chair as if it had suddenly sprouted spikes.

Feeling sick with nerves, he smoothed down his robes and forced himself to put one foot in front of the other as he and Taurnil crossed the sand. The crowd’s roar swelled out of all proportion, booming in his ears as the prospect of seeing a Nature Mage in action stirred up a visceral lust for magical violence. Nervousness threatened to make his knees buckle, and in a desperate attempt to retain control of the situation, he forcibly reminded himself of why they were here - to learn the art of combat so they could defend themselves against Shirukai Sestin. Suitably sobered by the thought, he managed to tune out the noise of the crowd and focus on the task at hand. Glancing at Taurnil, he realised that his friend had never lost sight of this. Taurnil might want to win, but it wasn’t because of the crowd, or to prove a point. He just wanted to test his mettle against other warriors and come out victorious. He wanted to make sure he was up to the task of being Gaspi’s protector.

He shook off the remainder of his nerves as best he could, and clapped Taurnil on the shoulder. “Okay Taurn, let’s do this,” he said.

Taurnil smiled tightly, his expression as serious as a stone. “Remember what Voltan said. We fight as a team.”