Warlords Rising (8 page)

No guard was left standing.

He stared incredulously at the litter of bodies on the
ground. “Did we…win? That couldn’t have been all of them.”

“Everyone in this city we have to fight…” Becca trailed off
uncertainly. “Or at least, everyone in this section of the city that got word
we broke out. Most people have already reported in for the night and gone to
bed, I don’t think word is going to spread very fast. Trev, go build us a nice
wall to block the entrances until we can get these amulets off.”

“I can’t,” he reminded her sardonically, “until the amulets
are off.”

Becca closed her eyes, aggravated. “Right. Sorry.”

Nolan stared down at the ground, sometimes using a boot to
flip a body over. “Do you remember who it was that always put the amulets on
us?”

“The snarky guy with the fat nose,” Trev’nor responded
promptly. “Why?”

“Well, I don’t know much about the amulets, but it seemed to
me that he never used magic to take off the old amulets and apply the new ones.
He just lifted them off. Could he have constructed them to recognize his magic
and respond without him having to invoke a spell for each one?”

From what Trev’nor understood of magical theory, that was
entirely possible. From what he knew of slavers, it was highly likely. Now that
he understood what Nolan was thinking, he started searching faces as well.
Becca maneuvered to a spot where she could see out both archways, keeping a
lookout while they were preoccupied.

“Found him!” Trev’nor crowed, hauling the man fully over
onto his back. From the limp way that he moved, he was either very, very
unconscious or dead. At the moment, the young Earth Mage wasn’t entirely sure
which he preferred. “Now what? Put my amulet in his hand and see if it falls
off?”

“Sure?” Nolan stared at the array of amulets around his neck
with worry.

Trev’nor went down on one knee and picked up the slaver’s
hand the way he would have a dirty dishrag. Gingerly, he put the grubby hand
near the amulets. Two promptly fell off but the other three stayed stubbornly
on. Sighing, he leaned back. “But why won’t all of them come off?”

“Maybe they’re on a timer?” Becca offered. “Not all of the amulets
can work the same, not when they’re harnessing someone with our power.”

That did make an aggravating amount of sense. Curse it. Or
as Garth liked to say, shrieking hinges.

Nolan knelt down and tried and the same two amulets fell off
with the other three remaining stubbornly on. He sighed as he sank back on his
haunches, partially in relief, mostly in regret. “Ah, that does feel better. I
won’t be able to transform, but should be able to heal and talk to animals.
Trev?”

“Can fight and mold stone some, but nothing
earth-shattering.” He grinned, a little giddy at their success so far. “Pun
intended.”

“Yes, yes, ha ha ha, you’re so funny. Come guard the
entrances and let me get some off,” Becca commanded.

Trev’nor willingly switched places because truth told, he
wanted Becca’s magic active as much as possible. She was a scary fighter with
her magic in full swing. “Let’s see,” he said, keeping an eagle eye out for
anyone coming down the street, “they put amulets on right after breakfast,
which was…when?”

“I lost track of time in that place,” Nolan admitted. “Fourteen,
fifteen hours ago?”

Becca lifted her head to the sky. “It’s nearly midnight now.
These things last a full twenty-four hours. So we have to hold out for another
seven, eight hours?”

Trev’nor’s impromptu staves had long since gone out and he
looked around for something to relight them even as he gave them a twirl. “I
think we can do it. Especially if we just take down anyone that tries to stop
us. Last time, we were ambushed, and that was how they caught us.”

“No problem.” Becca’s lips curled back in something that
might be called a smile. “I don’t have any mercy left in me after what they
did. So, what do we do? Free people first or last? I vote last.”

“Last,” Trev’nor concurred. “They’d be too easily taken and
used as hostages.”

“Agreed,” Nolan said slowly, eyeing the door to the slave
pens. “Although…do you think if we combined our magic, we could erect a ward on
that door to prevent anyone from going in there?”

“I don’t see why not.” Trev’nor eyed the door in question.
It was the only one leading to the pens and it would keep everyone safely out
of the way until this was done. “Let’s do that. Afterwards, then what? Wait
until our magic is fully released before continuing?”

Nolan eyed the sky. “While I’m not really in the mood to
wait…”

“It’s safer not to go on like this,” Becca finished wryly.
“Yes, I feel the same way. Until someone comes after us here, I vote we don’t
move on. We’ve got water, food, and a defensible location. Why waste it?”

It was a good argument and Trev’nor didn’t have any
objections to doing things that way. Well, not if he were listening to his
head. His heart wanted to just charge ahead and slay any enemy within range,
but he knew better than to do something that foolish. “Then let’s get the ward
up in case we do have to leave here. And I could certainly use something to
drink.”

In order to build the wards, of course, they had to be
inside of them so that the ward would recognize them as friendly. Once inside,
they realized that actually the most defensible area was inside the guardroom
itself. They stayed in there, out of sight, and waited as the suns climbed.

The guards had infinitely better food than what the slaves
did, so they had a very nice meal while they waited. Then they divided up the
remaining hours into a watch and took turns napping. People who had nothing to
do with the slave trade had no reason to be on this side of the town after all.
It gave them peace and quiet for several hours.

Eventually their luck ran out, and two hours before breakfast
several guards came over to see where everybody was. When they found a magical
ward on the guardroom door that barred their entrance, and multiple bodies on
the ground, they leapt to the right conclusion and ran for help.

Becca watched this play out just inside of the doorway,
smirking. “What are the odds that they have a magician that can get through the
ward?”

“Low,” Nolan said. “They don’t have any formal training, just
hand-me-down tricks passed from one generation to another, and I don’t think
any of them know the first thing about wards.”

“Besides, we’re the ones that put it up.” Trev’nor leaned
around the doorjamb to see for himself what the situation was like. “Even with
limited power, we’re still more powerful than a wizard would be. They’d need a
full circle to get through this ward. And they don’t know what a circle even
is, much less how to form one.”

“So we just have to sit tight for another two hours until these
amulets fall off.” Becca glared at the offending objects as she spoke, mouth in
a flat line of distaste. “My question is, how did all of these magicians get up
here? I mean, we were always told that Chahir and Hain produced the magicians,
not anyone else.”

“It’s a question we need to investigate,” Nolan stated,
finally getting up to get his own look of the situation. “Sadly, none of the
slaves are likely to know. They don’t talk about things like origins or where
they came from. It’ll take digging on our part to get an answer.”

Becca had a feeling it was an important answer that they
needed to find.

More men poured into the street and some of them went to the
ones that were down. Becca had seen some of the men they had defeated twitch or
move slightly, but not many. An uncomfortable pit yawned open in her stomach.
“How many men did we kill?”

Trev’nor clamped a hand down on her shoulder, the grip
almost bruising. “Don’t ask yourself that question. Not yet. We’re not able to
face that yet.”

He’d apparently already thought of this. He was right,
though, she couldn’t afford to think about it. It was hard to redirect her
mind, to not focus on the dead, but fortunately the men that were coming toward
the guardhouse created a good distraction.

She didn’t recognize the face, but a man that had red
stripes on his shoulders marched forward brusquely. The stripes, she had come
to understand, denoted rank. She didn’t know what red meant, though. He
demanded of them in broken Chahirese, “You. Out now.”

Nolan stepped forward and said in fluent Solish, “No. We
will not leave here until we are ready to do so. Evacuate this city. Get all of
the innocents out. When we leave, we will
level
this place and anyone
left here will be deemed a combatant and treated accordingly.”

Becca grinned at him. That sounded like a marvelous plan.
She was in the mood to channel Garth and destroy a few buildings.

The slaver curled a lip at them but responded in Solish,
which was a language he obviously knew. “You were easily captured. We’ve seen
you work for days. We don’t buy your bluff.”

“You got the drop on us. You have no idea what our fighting
power is really like.” Nolan shook his head, dismissive. “I won’t argue about
this with you. Believe me or not, that is your choice.”

Stepping back, the slaver gave a brusque command she didn’t
understand a word of. His slang was so thick it could be cut and served on
bread.  It became obvious soon enough when four men took axes and tried to
hammer at the wall. They were instantly blown back, knocked out cold from the
impact.

Becca couldn’t help it—she laughed. “What, did they think we
only put a ward up on the doorway? They really don’t know how wards work, do
they?”

“We’re safe as houses in here,” Trev’nor remarked, lounging
back in his chair. “Seriously. The past four days of gathering intel seems like
a complete waste of time right now.”

Nolan looked pensive for a moment. “But it might have been
better in the long run that we stayed. We learned their culture. We learned a
great deal about the people living here. We know the layout of this city. Strategically
speaking, maybe we didn’t learn much more, but I learned a great deal about
what’s wrong in this country. It’s good that we stayed put as long as we did.”

There was that. Although Becca was of the opinion that they
could have cut it short to just two days and not done this extended stay. If
she had known how to get past those bars, she would have moved sooner than
this. Well, it was water under the bridge now; it was time for her to think about
what to do next. “So after we level this place, then what?”

“We fortify this city first and then move on.” Trev’nor
looked at both of them. “I’ve got it half-done anyway, I might as well finish
the job.

“The people here are kind, even if they are extremely
prejudiced against magicians.” Nolan had a hard look in his eyes. “They treated
me decently, even when they didn’t know how to respond to me. It’s the
government at fault here, not the citizens.”

Becca studied him from the corner of her eye. Sometimes, not
often, Nolan went into what she had dubbed Prince Mode. Now was such an
occasion. He had a different perspective on this situation than they did, where
he analyzed the underlying problem, and who was at fault for it. “The
government officials here think of magicians the way a man would cattle. To
breed and use and nothing more. I didn’t get to interact with the people like
you two did. They didn’t have that opinion?”

“Not at all,” Trev’nor denied vehemently. “They were a
little lost at first on how to react to me, sure, but they weren’t callous like
the guards were. I got them to actually talk with me a few times and they
weren’t keen on who was in power. I’m with you on this, Nol. I’m not going to
just ignore what they’re doing here. I vote we go to each city and free all of
the slaves. Who knows? We’ll probably run into Becca’s weather-tamperer while
we’re at it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She let an unholy smile cross her
face as she said this. She was really, truly, looking forward to pounding all
of the slavers into dust. If the boys were right about the citizens, she’d help
them. If not, she’d focus on freeing the slaves and let her friends do as they
wished.

The men outside became more frantic to get inside. They
picked up shovels and tried to dig under the wall, only to be blown back again.
Becca laughed, a little hysterically, and enjoyed the show. “They really have
no idea how wards work. Idiots. Of course the ward wraps all the way
around
the building. How else do you prevent an Earth Mage from popping up
underneath?”

“Not to mention it’s stronger if it’s a full ball shape or
full square,” Nolan observed. “Becca, you can see the sky better; what time is
it?”

“About time, I would think.” The sky was streaked with golds
and pinks and hints of grey-blue.

They waited some more, enjoying seeing their former slavers
panic. They no doubt knew that as soon as those amulets fell off, they were
going to have a real fight on their hands. Becca’s lips curled back into a
snarl. They didn’t know the half of it.

Without warning, an amulet fell off her neck with a clink as
it hit the floor. She clapped her hands together, doing a celebratory bounce.
“One’s off!” The words were barely out of her mouth when the other two fell in
quick succession. Her magic flared up like a bonfire in a windstorm. She felt
more alive than she had in ten days. Turning, she checked on Trev’nor and Nolan
and found their amulets were off as well and they had set aside their impromptu
weapons. To her magical eyes, their magic was building up, coming off of them
in visible waves. They were more than ready to fight. “Do we have a plan?”

“I’m going dragon,” Nolan informed them, as calmly as if he
was announcing that he wanted a cup of tea. “I’ll level anything and everyone.
What about you two?”

“I want to take out the governor’s residence,” Becca stated
frankly. “Trev?”

“That sounds like a good target to me. I’ll go with you. And
the guards’ barracks, if they have any.”

“Targets acquired.” Nolan circled a finger in the air and
pointed forward, which was totally a Xiaolang mannerism. “Move out.”

They passed through the ward easily. Becca, knowing that
when Nolan went dragon he became the size of a building, quickly moved out of
the immediate area. Trev’nor was hot on her heels. Slavers tried to swarm them,
of course, but Trev’nor was quick to react this time and the earth opened up
underneath them, burying them up to their necks.

A bellowing roar rang behind them, loud and sharp enough to
hurt her ears. Becca put her hands over them, trying to avoid a burst eardrum,
and turned around to look. Nolan was in full dragon-mode, glimmering gold in
the dawning light. He spread his wings, head lifted toward the sky, and gave
another earth-shattering roar. Then his tail swept out, leveling the guardroom
they had spent the past few hours in, rock and debris flying everywhere.

The few people still standing frantically ran for their
lives, taking any escape route that they saw. Becca gave a casual salute to her
friend and went back to her mission. Nolan would be fine. Nothing could harm
him in dragon mode.

She went three streets over before she stopped dead. “Trev?”

“Sure.” He knew what she was asking without her spelling it
out. Grabbing her by the waist, he held her against him as a support as he
lifted the ground under their feet and rose twenty feet into the air. It gave
her a bird’s eye view of the city and, for the first time, she saw Rurick as a
whole.

As cities went, it wasn’t impressive. Strae Academy was only
a little smaller than this place. It had thick stucco walls, rounded from
either design or wind wearing at it over the years. It was almost all the same
color, a tannish cream, with only a few buildings looking different. In the very
heart of it, to her right, there were three buildings made of stone and mortar,
banners flowing from the roof toward the ground in a language she couldn’t
read. Pointing, she said, “Government buildings. Should that be our only
target?”

“We’d best stick to them, otherwise we risk injuring people,”
Trev’nor agreed, squinting against the light. “Nolan can get the barracks. There’s
three for us, so…I’ll take the big one?”

“I’ll hit the smaller ones. Leave me up here, it’s a good
perch.” Becca did her best fighting from a distance, when she could see all of
her targets.

“I’ll widen it for you.” Trev’nor never admitted as much but
he had a slight fear of falling. Not enough to prevent him from getting up on
high buildings or creating towers for himself, like now, but he always took the
precaution of either having lots of room or being strapped in somehow. He
widened the platform so that it had a flat mushroom top, giving her enough room
to lay down if she so desired. Then he splintered off a small section of it and
used it to go back toward the ground.

Becca rolled her sleeves back, hands reaching toward the
sky, and called forth a mother storm like these people had never seen before.
Dark clouds formed overhead, winds picked up, and the air became heavy with a feeling
of rain. Satisfied she had the conditions right, she pointed a finger at one of
the smaller office buildings and directed a lightning bolt to hit it squarely
in the middle. Lightning arced and crackled, setting fire to the building. From
this distance, she could see people frantically bail out of windows and doors.
Not many, though, as most were still coming in to work.

Cackling, she called forth more lightning. This was fun! No
wonder Garth levelled buildings when he got mad. It was wonderful for relieving
stress. Two targets were simply not going to satisfy her need for destruction.
If Trev’nor didn’t hurry, she was going to fry his building too.