Spellscribed: Ascension (2 page)

                     A wave of brisk mountain air washed through the fall morning, sweeping through the silence as Endrance and Joven stared at the messenger that had brought them the news.

 
                    "What did you say?" Joven asked, stepping forward. "I thought I heard you say you're going to arrest the Spengur?"

 
                    Joven was a tremendously massive man, over six feet, six inches tall. He was the epitome of muscle power, with muscle to spare and not much body fat on him at all. His powerful form was barely concealed by custom fitted studded leather armor, replete with fur trims and hide reinforcements. His exposed arms and face were crossed with a patternless mess of finely healed scars; a testament to the number of injuries he'd survived. Along his arms were several pock marked scars where crossbow bolts had been yanked out without much care for medical procedure. His long blond hair and scowl only enhanced his fearsome demeanor.

 
                    The messenger noted the arsenal of weapons and fur lined armor the massive man wore and swallowed nervously. "Yes." he responded. "I've orders to escort him back to Ironsoul; He's... under arrest." The man explained again.

 
                    "Huh." Endrance said, blinking at the scroll that displayed the warrant for his capture. The wizard was completely unimpressive next to his barbarian cohort; he had never really grown past five foot six. Slender of stature, he was almost frail looking. His face was smooth and bore slightly slanted features that made him appear almost feminine. He read through the scroll again with luminous emerald eyes. His hair was shoulder length; blond so light it seemed almost silvery. He wore thick furs over winter clothing, forsaking the robes usual to his station. The only obvious sign of his profession in magic was a silver forearm bracer clasped over the sleeve of his winter clothing but underneath the drape of the fur cloak he wore.

 
                    Endrance looked over the scroll one more time. It looked official. It was an arrest warrant for him. It described his name, hometown, likeness, and detailed the crime he was being charged with. Apparently, Commander Gurahl decided to place the blame at his feet.

 
                    At the time, the commander had been very unfriendly and had treated him very poorly. Endrance hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, so he had allowed it to happen. If he had really wanted to, he could have left the fort devoid of life as he escaped. Instead, an assassin Sha'hdi named Jalyin had slaughtered four men, dosed the rest with a sleeping powder and left the doors open for them.

 
                    At the time he had fled because it seemed that the assassin was toying with them. It hadn't even occurred to him that the woman was setting him up for further misery. Oh how he wished he could have captured the woman! That would have solved his problems with Ironsoul outright.

 
                    Unfortunately, she escaped and he had no way to track her down. Now he had the consequences of her actions piled up in front of him and he had no way to defend himself legally while he was in Balator.

 
                    "Joven?" Endrance asked.

 
                    The big man remained eyeing the assembled men in front of him. "Yeah?" he asked.

 
                    "It seems they want me to go with them." Endrance stated.

 
                    Joven made a show of looking past the men to the gates of the city. Even so far away, the gates loomed in the distance. The gates of Balator behind the men remained open, as they did during most days when they weren't directly under assault. While in most countries that meant years between any kind of action, in Balator it meant that one tribe or another would try to take the city every few months so they were well cared for.

 
                    Joven shrugged. "They can try, but I don't think they'd make it out before our men closed the gates." he admitted, scratching his cheek. "Maybe if they had brought more men…"

 
                    The fact that the men were let into the kingdom with so little concern and with no real guards said much for how little a threat they posed to the people of Balator.  Endrance presumed that the men were aware of it as well, from how nervously they looked around whenever a strange noise arose from the surrounding farmlands.

 
                    "We didn't come here to capture you, sir mage!" the messenger replied. His face was filled with pride as he spoke. "Our duty is to escort you back when you are ready to return."

 
                    "Oh." Endrance said, raising his eyebrows. "What if I'm not yet ready to return?"

 
                    The messenger looked uncomfortable, but the men on foot behind exchanged worried glances. The man on horseback furrowed his brow, temporarily forgetting how cold the air was.

 
                    "Well..." he answered."We are to wait until you are ready, and then escort you home."

 
                    "That is good." Endrance replied. "How long are you authorized to wait?"

 
                    The man looked conflicted; he wanted to give an answer but something was stopping him. Endrance glanced at Joven and spread his hands in concession. Joven frowned back at him.

 
                    "It seems that I have a few things to wrap up before I can leave. I hope that is all right with you."

 
                    The messenger's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Very well." he replied. "We will wait here for you to return."

 
                    "You may want to wait over there." The wizard replied. "See those houses? That way you won't freeze to death while I take care of things."

 
                    The messenger shook his head, confused. "I don't understand. How long are you going to make us wait?"

 
                    Endrance shrugged. "I have to finish overseeing the reconstruction of my home; a wizard’s sanctum has to be exactly to specifications and no one here can read so I haven't been able to just leave some instructions. I also need to handle the matter of the king of Balator-"

 
                    "What about the king?" the messenger asked, interrupting. "If the King can release you from service, we can get going right-"

 
                    "He's dead." Endrance interrupted in return. "I... may have had to kill him."

 
                    The messenger and the six men stared at the mage in shock. "W-w-what?" the messenger responded.

 
                    Joven jerked a thumb at the wizard. "It's not his fault; the king had gone bad." he explained. "Was doing demon stuff."

 
                    "Demon stuff." Endrance stated, his tone humorous.

 
                    Joven rolled his eyes. "Summoning demons."

 
                    "So I had to kill him before he killed me." Endrance finished.

 
                    The escort remained silent, too off guard to figure out what to say in response, so Endrance continued.

 
                    "I also have to see to a meeting with the remaining leadership pertaining to some threat coming from the sea, so I really need some time to get that all settled. I promise I won't start anything else or commit to any further promises, but I have to wait for this to clear up before I can head back."

 
                    "How... how long will that take, sir mage?" The messenger asked.

 
                    "Oh... I don't know..." Endrance began. "Joven? How long until General Rohl gets here?"

 
                    Joven directed his horse closer to the escort. "If the general is coming from the west shores at full speed, a week at most."

 
                    Endrance turned from his bodyguard to the escort. "There you have it." he said. "I need a week to make sure things will be fine while I'm gone."

 
                    The messenger looked down at the men, who appeared uncomfortable, unhappy and cold. Of the men, one looked up to the messenger and nodded. He turned back to the wizard and gave a grim frown.

 
                    "We didn't plan on staying that long, sir mage." he said.

 
                    Endrance had already started turning his horse, but stopped and looked back over to the messenger. "Look... um... what's your name, actually?"

 
                    "Ezeilo." The messenger replied.

 
                    "Look, Ezeilo." Endrance continued. "I appreciate that you're here to escort me back to Ironsoul, but as a mage of the circle I have a career here. I can't just walk away and come to a trial leaving this country in more disarray than it was when I came here. These people deserve better than that. I'll be willing to come with you, but I need time to set my affairs in order so that they will be fine in the interim."

 
                    Ezeilo grimaced. "Then where shall we wait?"

 
                    Endrance finished turning his horse and looked over to his bodyguard. "Joven?" he asked.

The big man sighed and wheeled his horse to the side. "I'll take you somewhere where you can stable your horse and rest. Follow me."

                     Endrance watched the men following Ezeilo shivering in their winter armor as they followed and leaned towards the barbarian as he called out to him.

 
                    "Make sure they’re comfortable!" he shouted.

 
                    Joven only held a hand up to indicate he had heard him. Endrance watched them head off towards one of the farmlands and sighed.

 
                    “Great. Apparently the gods have decided I wasn’t busy enough as it was.”

 
                                                                                                             * * *

 
                    An hour and a half later Endrance wearily passed through the gates into the fifth bowl of Balator, where most of the general population resided. Thousands upon thousands of people lived there, packed into familial homes and houses that had been around for generations. The population was near maximum capacity, but the barbarians’ own violent natures tended to keep it under control. As he rode through the streets on horseback, he passed a few houses that had their doors blocked off or bricked over. Due to the abundance of stone and relative scarcity of plentiful wood, almost all the housing in Balator was of stone. Even many doors were made of slabs of stone bracketed in steel. Endrance smirked; he was certain a dwarf would find the city very attractive, if any could tolerate the barbarians. Even the calmest dwarf would find his blood boiling if called short enough times. Endrance knew this well enough himself, and he was about half a head taller than most dwarves. At least that he could tell. He'd never met one; only read of them in books.

 
                    The bricked over houses were because of custom, not structure. When a family line was 'struck from the mountain', it was exiled from the community and from the city itself. They were shunned and ignored, and everyone refused to deal with them or they would be struck from the mountain as well. Depending on the circumstances, masons came within days to weeks to close off the home, giving them time to vacate the premises.

 
                    There was a debate among the most influential people of Balator about what to do with the castle of Balator. Never before had a king been struck from the mountain, and many were conflicted about what the traditions would mean at that point. Quite a few people thought that the castle should have been blocked off, some believed it should be kept open, and still some others thought that they should knock it down instead and build a new one. Several times over the past month since Kalenden's demise, members of the parties involved had approached Endrance for advice on the matter.

 
                    They had to, since Endrance was the Spengur. The phrase loosely translated to 'sage magician' or something similar, so far as Endrance understood. The people of Balator had such a strong aversion to magic that they simply couldn't adjust for when something magically related happened inside their borders. So while magic was taboo among them, they needed someone who could deal with it when it became a problem.

 
                    That's why they had taken him on. He was the only formally trained wizard in the whole city. He was balanced on the tenuous position of being necessary, but taboo in their society. It was similar to the tales his own people told of witches that lived in the forest next to a town.

 
                    Except that in most of those stories the townspeople weren't on average above six feet tall and capable of snapping the witch like kindling with their bare hands.