First Comes The One Who Wanders Read online

  An odd disappointment settled in Leilas’ chest as her mother spoke. She wasn’t sure why, and decided she’d have to explore it when she had more time. Cringing at the thought, she steeled herself against the voice in her mind, but it did not come.

  “Are you ready to begin?” Joshuas mounted his horse and turned in his saddle. “We go up, you go down.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Leilas handed her reins to Brenth and mounted.

  “That should give us some breathing room and me time to come up with a better solution.” Joshuas urged his horse into motion, while Leilas closed her eyes and began creating a completely different scene in her mind.

  CHAPTER 3

  The two wolves sniffed at the edge of the stream, then crossed over and sniffed on the other side. “They crossed over,” said the first.

  “Yes, and then crossed back. Master Jayram says they have continued along the grove.”

  The first wolf, a large gray-black male, sniffed along the trail that wound through the forest then he came back and sniffed on either side of the stream. “They went across and up. They didn’t continue along this trail.”

  The second wolf dropped his nose to the ground and sniffed along the forest trail then he came back to the stream. Slowly, his form began to change. The wolf shimmered and blurred and soon a man was standing where the wolf had been. The man was wiry, dark, and appeared to be in his late twenties. A gold clasp that identified him as a master crafter from the School of Land held the top of his gray-black cloak together. “I need to talk to Master Jayram before we continue up the hill.”

  The first wolf dropped to the ground and let his tongue hang out of his mouth while the man sat on the ground and closed his eyes. He began a low chant, repeated it three times and then fell silent.

  “What is it?” Jayram broke away from the mists and answered the silent summons.

  “We have their scent. It goes into the foothills not along the forest trail. If we continue up, we should reach them in an hour.”

  “Don’t separate. You will need each other’s strength when you face Joshuas, perhaps when you meet the young one, as well. I didn’t think she had enough strength to bend the mists, but she has surprised me. Don’t face them when they are together.”

  “It will be as you wish my Lord.” The man opened his eyes and rose from his position on the ground. Again, his form shimmered and blurred and soon two wolves stood where a man and a wolf had been. After lapping at the water, the wolves bounded across the stream and headed up the hill after the group they were tracking.

  ~~~

  Jayram cursed and abandoned the mists he’d been studying. Somehow, Leilas had managed to make them lie. He hadn’t thought she was strong enough or smart enough to manipulate them. But she’d rendered his study of them useless. He’d have to rely on his crafters, who were following the group of fugitives Darryl wanted returned, for his information. Not the best alternative, but the only one he had at the moment. He didn’t have time to track them himself. The mists slowly drifted back into the bowl from which they had emanated as he headed for the door that led from what was left of the School of Sky.

  It had taken hours for his group of crafters to break through the spells that bound the doors, but they’d been successful in the end. His magiks had dispatched the students and masters who’d remained to defend the school. None of them had been significant enough to save and examine. It had cost him about one-fourth of his men. Most of them were easily replaced, but he’d lost a few that were valuable to him. Grimacing at the loss, he cursed again. Almost all of the magiks who’d occupied the school fled before his magiks arrived. Capturing the school had been a victory, but it hadn’t been the victory he’d hoped to achieve. Somehow, the masters of the school had learned of his attack. It wasn’t because they’d been watching him, he was sure of that. The masters at the School of Sky were naive. They didn’t believe anyone would dare try to upset the balance between the schools of crafters so they didn’t watch to ensure the balance remained intact.

  But someone had been watching and that person had spoiled his plans. Now, he had to split his attention between regrouping, using the confusion to capture the magiks who had escaped, pursuing the Prince and Queen of Dirth and a young student traveling with an insignificant wanderer. He needed the books of magic and the knowledge that the masters would supply him once he’d ‘coerced’ them into talking to him. He didn’t need to watch the deaths of a queen, a young prince, and two insignificant magiks. No matter how much enjoyment it might bring for the moment to watch them grovel and beg before they died.

  He would humor Darryl a little while longer. It was important to keep the King on his side. His help would be necessary to complete the plans he had. As long as his crafters could stay on Joshuas and Leilas’ trail and as long as nothing went wrong, he’d deliver the small group of fugitives into Darryl’s hand. But he wasn’t going to waste any more men or much more of his time pursuing them solely to mollify the ego of the King. Leyhan was dead, his head perched on a pole outside the gates of the Manor and Dirth was conquered. Darryl had what he wanted. The heads of the queen and her son were a bonus Darryl could live without.

  Moving swiftly down the stairs, Jayram hurried to the throne room where Darryl was celebrating with his men. As far as he was concerned, the battle had been a success. But then, he was just a human who had no vision for the weightier battle that had begun this day.

  “Your majesty,” Jayram inclined his head slightly as he entered the room. It was his only acknowledgment of Darryl’s position. To him, Darryl was nothing and would be dust in a few more years. It irritated him that the crafters had agreed to let the humans rule the earth while penning the Treaty of Greyan. That mistake would be corrected when he’d accomplished his goal. “My crafters are quickly closing the gap between themselves and the queen. They’ll soon have her group captured. You may have more to celebrate yet.”

  “That’s good. My men feel they’ve been cheated by not being allowed to raze the city. But how could I let them rampage when the people didn’t offer any resistance?” Darryl quaffed some ale from the silver goblet that had been Leyhan’s and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Jayram watched the middle-aged king with some disgust as he lolled with his robes askew, his graying hair sticking up from his head, stiff with sweat, beer staining his beard.

  “They will have to make due with ravaging the people in the Manor,” replied Jayram.

  “And the queen and her lovely daughter when we get them back. I think they’ll enjoy that particular diversion.”

  “As will you, I’m sure. But keep your men under control. Many of the people of Dirth will join your army and replace the men you’ve lost in battle. It would be best not to distance them from your cause. Danuu of Sylphia is a formidable foe and you’ll need many men to fight him.”

  “I’ll need the help of your magiks, as well. Your kind have helped a great deal and despite what my generals say, I think we’ll keep you around.”

  Jayram held his tongue, despite the flare of anger he felt. Helped a great deal, indeed, he raged silently. If it hadn’t been for his crafters, Darryl would still be wallowing in his small kingdom of Draggor. This puny king would pay for his insolence, –but not today. Jayram looked forward to the day when it would be Darryl’s head on a pole outside the gates.

  “Then, if you’re pleased with our progress, I have matters that need attention and I won’t disturb you with updates until I know when you can expect your fugitives’ return.”

  Darryl’s eyes narrowed at Jayram’s dismissive attitude. “As long as you ensure they’ll be returned. I will hold you responsible if they escape.”

  “Will you?” sneered Jayram. “We’ll see if you can live up to that threat if and when the time comes.” He moved forward and leaned into the King’s face, his black eyes glowing with a red anger. “I do you a favor tracking them. They mean less than nothing to me. Don’t push your favor too far.”

  Darryl le
aned as far back in the throne as he could get, his puffy face turning ashen. “No need to get testy about it. I know what you have done for me. I don’t forget my friends so easily.”

  Jayram backed away, the anger in his eyes receding. “I’ll do what I can to capture your mice, my friend. But don’t let a few mice spoil the victory you’ve had here today.”

  “No, no, I won’t let it spoil our victory.” Darryl lifted his goblet in a mock toast and drained it as Jayram walked away, sweat beads popping out on his forehead.

  Jayram was tempted to twist something inside him and watch him squirm in pain, but today was not the day to indulge in pleasures. He hadn’t been as successful as his ‘friend’ Darryl and he needed to regroup and reconsider his next move.

  Retracing the turnings of Dirthstone Manor, he opened his mind and sought to find the path of power that Leilas had used earlier. But it was no longer there to find. She was an interesting little mouse, perhaps worthy of some attention. Too bad she’d soon be dead, along with Joshuas.

  Joshuas was, as always, worthy of some attention. But he was an old crafter who’d disassociated himself from power struggles long ago. There was a time when Joshuas had interested himself in the affairs of men and war. In the Crafter Wars he’d been Greyan’s right hand, but he hadn’t taken up a cause and fought since then. He was content to wander and fight small battles for unworthy people in need.

  Teran had spoken of the old crafter, simply because he’d been around for so many years and had seen many of the same struggles as had Teran. They’d spoken of all the old crafters who were still alive. Joshuas had never been considered a threat or even a player in the game they’d begun today.

  Why was he here today and why had he chosen to help the queen and her children escape? This question deserved some attention as well, if they managed to escape his crafters.

  Jayram stepped into the ruined anteroom of the School of Sky and shuddered. Despite the defilement they’d wrought on this place earlier in the day, it still reeked of light magic. He couldn’t stay here long. Darryl would have to celebrate his victory without him. He’d go back to the Forest of Furlin, where the center of his powers lay. Perhaps then, Leilas wouldn’t be able to defy him. It must be the influence of the power here that was allowing her to protect herself against him. She couldn’t be strong enough to do it on her own.

  “She could be strong enough,” a voice croaked in the darkness. “It would be unwise to misjudge her.” Mandrak stepped from the shadows, his clothes in tatters.

  Jayram grimaced and tightened the reign on his thoughts. He despised that this old man could read them so easily. He was, after all, just a scribe.

  “What are you doing here Mandrak? Don’t think that because I spared your life I want you here with me.”

  “Where else am I to go right now? If I step out of these rooms, Darryl’s men will kill me. I’m forced to accept your protection, whether you give it willingly or not. I know you won’t try to kill me. What would Teran think if he heard you allowed one of his scribes to be killed?”

  “Don’t presume to know me, old man.”

  “I presume very little. Only that once you offered me sanctuary, I was safe as long as I stayed within the circle of your power. I’ll leave you when it’s safe.”

  “To go and give account of my actions to the Guild, no doubt.”

  “Do you care what I tell the Guild? You are after all, a crafter, not a scribe.” Jayram cursed silently again at this old man’s uncanny ability to read his thoughts. “I’ll convey to them what happened here today and your part in it. You’ve seriously damaged our plans.”

  “I care nothing for any plans the Guild may have.”

  “You made that quite clear today. Is that the message you want me to give to Teran?”

  “You may tell him whatever you feel is important.”

  Mandrak clasped his hands in front of his abdomen and pursed his lips. “Leilas has great ability as a crafter. We’ve been watching her as she’s progressed. She’s quite gifted.”

  “She may have talents. But I’m stronger. I’ve never met anyone who can match my strength.” Jayram waved away the suggestion. “She is unimportant. Besides my men will have captured them before the night is over and Darryl will murder them within a week.”

  Mandrak threw a few gold coins on the charred counter in front of them. “I’ll take that bet. I personally have met several crafters I think are as gifted as you. Leilas Leyson could be another.”

  “I want you out of Dirth by tomorrow,” said Jayram angrily, his eyes glowing red. “If you aren’t gone, I’ll no longer protect you.”

  Mandrak laughed and picked up his gold coins. “I’ll leave when it’s safe.”

  Jayram roared in anger at the scribe’s insolence and let his anger translate into action. Mandrak fell backward as he was attacked with a burning white light, screaming in pain.

  “I want you gone, now,” growled Jayram. “Next time you try to defy me; you won’t live to regret it.”

  Mandrak struggled to his feet, holding his damaged face in his hands and faded back into the darkness from which he’d emerged.

  ~~~

  Leilas felt herself jerked away from the path she was creating in her mind by a presence that was quickly becoming too powerful to ignore. Opening her eyes, she glanced behind her, knowing that something was out there. She couldn’t see anything. Still, she knew it was there. Joshuas’ appearance at her side, confirmed what she felt.

  “They caught up with us more quickly than I thought they would. Still, I think we have some time before they reach us. We need to find a place where we can defend ourselves.”

  He seemed almost to glow in the darkness that had descended on them as he stood next to her. Leilas couldn’t help but appreciate the symbolism. He’d been her champion all day, her knight in shining armor. Casting a critical eye at the man before her, she amended the thought, at least he was shining.

  “They won’t attack while we are together,” she said, not quite knowing how she knew. “Is there somewhere we don’t have to ride single file?”

  “There’s a small meadow about a quarter mile up the road and off to the right. It would give us a little more advantage than being pinned on a road three feet wide.”

  “I know the spot,” Queen Daina broke into the conversation. “It’s a good place, filled with light power.”

  She urged her mount into a trot with Brenth close behind. Joshuas mounted quickly and tapped his heels into the sides of his horse. Once again, Leilas brought up the rear, hoping she could defend them if the need arose.

  The wolf attacked as soon as Joshuas disappeared around a turn in the pathway, before Leilas could cast a ward to keep him from springing. Her horse reared in fright and she found herself on the ground with a red-eyed wolf holding her leg in his mouth. “Prene warda, forten pahrak, eshra drayk”, grunted Leilas between gasps, as she twisted away from the snapping jaws as best she could. She choked out the words of protection and strength, pushing against the chest of the hairy beast as it crawled nearer her throat. She’d barely regained her feet when another wolf sprang from the darkness of the trees toward her. Waving her hand in a circular motion, her fingers together and held upright, she pushed her circle of protection out around her. “Mord deignet.”

  The wolf fell to the ground wounded. Leilas knew she should kill this evil crafter who was threatening her and her family, but she couldn’t bring herself to kill a person who was lying helpless on the ground. Instead, she turned her attention to the wolf that was transforming in front of her.

  “Trien leifar.” Although she could see that her words had affected the magik, it hadn’t stopped him. His transformation was almost complete. If he managed to transform and regained his ability to speak, she would have a much more difficult time in banishing him.

  “Treienda revios.” The last vestiges of beast vanished and the man bent over in pain, blood spurting from his mouth. Leilas closed her eyes against the
sight. It was too hard to watch what her words had done. It didn’t matter that she’d done this to save her family, or that these men were evil. This memory would haunt her.

  Turning to see how much damage she’d inflicted on the man who’d attacked her first, she was just in time to see Joshuas run his sword through the man’s heart. She wondered if killing affected him the same way it affected her.

  “Just because you’re a magik, doesn’t mean you have to use your powers every time you meet another magik,” Joshuas said bitingly. “A sword works just as well and it doesn’t call as much attention to yourself. Your little show probably attracted every evil creature within twenty leagues. This isn’t the school where you’re protected by other more powerful magiks. Out here you live or die by your ability.”

  Leilas was taken aback by Joshuas’ censure. She’d only done what she’d needed to do. “I didn’t have time to pull my sword. They were on me so quickly.”

  “That’s another thing. Didn’t Gidron teach you to sense the presence of other magiks? How could those magiks have gotten so close before you recognized they were here? It seems to me, your teaching has been woefully incomplete.” Joshuas sheathed his weapon.

  His criticism left Leilas speechless. She stood silent as Joshuas rummaged through the cloaks of the dead men and pocketed the few silver coins they had in his cloak. Then he took their insignia and pocketed them as well.

  “Let’s get out of here before all the minions you called by your clumsiness descend upon us.”

  Leilas bit back the retort that was on her lips. Instead, she gathered her reins, with shaking hands, and mounted her horse. She contented herself by vacillating between anger, guilt and fuming silently as she followed Joshuas to the meadow where her mother and Brenth were waiting.

  Her mother gave her a probing stare, which she returned with a defiant one as she entered the meadow then turned to Joshuas. His welfare seemed to be more important to her mother. Leilas slouched in her saddle as the two spoke together and tried not to care that she seemed to be forgotten and not considered to have an opinion worthy of consideration. She was tired, sore and one of the magiks had managed to sink his teeth into her at least once. She’d check it out later when she had a bit more privacy. She wasn’t interested in another lecture on how incompetent she was, or her lack of training, or in hearing that the wolf would have never been able to get his teeth into her if she were a better magik.