Richard Tuttle - Aakuta - the Dark Mage

“That does not matter to me,” replied Lord Jamarat. “I love you no matter what you are.”

“I know,” Latril smiled, “but there is more that you do not know. Lord Marak’s people have been training mages for some time now. Some of his mages have discovered new ways to use our powers. We can use our magic in battle.”

“In battle?” echoed Lord Jamarat. “How can magic be used for something other than tending to crops?”

“A number of ways,” interjected Lord Marak. “The primary use is a new means of communication. It allows us to coordinate our armies instantly to react to changes made by the enemy. There are other forms of magic that can disrupt a charge and rain havoc on the enemy’s army. The point Latril is trying to make, Lord Jamarat, is that she is a warrior just as you are. She feels she has a right to be on the battlefield with you.”

“But I want her kept safe,” frowned Lord Jamarat. “I do not want her in battle.”

“The Pikata have arrived,” Botal said as he stuck his head into the room.

Lord Marak rose instantly. “Join with me in a journey to our lookout,” Lord Marak invited Lord Jamarat and Latril. “I will have Latril give you a demonstration of her skills while we view the battlefield.”

Lord Jamarat nodded and led Latril out of the mansion. They mounted horses and rode with Botal’s squad to the top of the hill. Lord Marak gazed across the battlefield as they dismounted. He saw the Pikata banner atop a distant ridge on the other side of the massing Jiadin.

“Latril,” ordered Lord Marak, “weave an air tunnel to the center of that far group of Pikata atop the ridge. Maximum pressure so that we can all hear what they are saying.”

Latril nodded and wove the air tunnel. She adjusted it until she found an interesting conversation. She then adjusted the pressure to allow everyone on the hill to listen in.

“We will hold the Pikata in reserve,” declared the voice of Lord Damirath. “Let the Vessi, Glamaraldi, and Lejune attack them. From up here we should be able to see where they are the least defended. When we find the weak spot, we will exploit it.”

“It will be a bloody battle,” said another voice. “We may need to get more Jiadin warriors when this battle is over.”

“There are plenty of them,” laughed Lord Damirath. “Having Lord Marak gather our opposition on the eastern frontier may actually work to our advantage. We will cripple their greatest armies and still be close enough to Fakara to replenish our forces before we move on to Khadoratung.”

“They are planning on destroying the Imperial Valley,” scowled Lord Jamarat. “I thought that was only a story so you could get more men.”

“It is not a story,” assured Lord Marak. “That was Lord Damirath you heard speaking.”

“I recognized his voice,” nodded Lord Jamarat. “This magic of yours is wonderful. Can Latril remain up here and listen to their plans?”

“I think it is the perfect spot for her,” grinned Lord Marak. “Perhaps you and I should be up here too. We can make decisions based on what we see and hear, and have Latril relay our commands to the armies below.”

Lord Marak dressed and left his room in the Balomar mansion. He moved quietly down the stairs and out the front door of the mansion. Lord Kiamesh was standing on the porch staring up at the stars. He turned as the door closed and saw Lord Marak.

“You rise early,” greeted Lord Kiamesh.

“Not as early as you,” retorted Lord Marak. “Today is the day we test the mettle of these Jiadin. Are your troops ready for it?”

“They are,” nodded Lord Kiamesh. “My cortes will guard the road outside the estate. The Jiadin will not use it to get around your defenses. Have no fear.”

“Good,” smiled Lord Marak. “Remember to keep Jarri near you at all times. She will be your communications link to me. I will keep you appraised of how the battle is going from the hill.”

“She will always be by my side,” promised Lord Kiamesh. “Their ability to speak over great distances is amazing. You must tell me how this was discovered.”

“After the battle,” promised Lord Marak. “I want to take one last ride through our defenses before heading up the hill.”

Lord Marak mounted his horse and rode off. The Balomar estate had been turned into a natural fortress. Three wide, cleared areas had been cut the length of the estate through the eastern forest. The felled trees were piled in the cleared areas. Wider bands of mature forest separated the cleared strips. Lord Marak rode directly to the outermost cleared strip. As he rode slowly along the cleared strip, couples came out to greet him. Each couple was composed of a female mage and male archer. Lord Marak’s conversations were generally the same for each couple. He warned them that the battle would begin in a few hours. He asked if they understood their tasks, and they assured him that they were ready.

When Lord Marak reached the end of the fortifications, he turned inward until he was well past the innermost cleared strip. A series of trenches ran the length of the estate. Here resided the bulk of the Khadoran army. The squad leaders were just awakening the men as he rode by. He smiled and greeted the men, offering words of encouragement as they prepared for a day of battle. The men were nervous, but they tried not to let Lord Marak see it.

A warm feeling ran through Lord Marak as he reviewed the troops. The men were nervous, but optimistic. They showed a kindred spirit with one another regardless of the uniform they happened to be wearing. They were a unified army fighting a common foe.

Lord Marak gazed skyward and saw the first lightening of the sky. He had spent several hours reviewing the fortifications and knew the battle would begin soon. He quickened his pace and rode to the top of the hill. Already gathered at the summit were the other clan lords and a group of twenty air mages.

“Lord Marak,” greeted Lord Chenowith. “On the ride here I tried to visualize what four hundred cortes would look like if they were assembled in one place. My imagination was not as grim as reality. I fear the troops that we brought will have proved to be too little.”

Lord Marak turned his gaze to fields just beyond the border of the Balomar estate. Whatever crops had been grown there had been trampled to dust by the arriving Jiadin. The fields were packed with mounted Fakaran warriors as far as he could see in either direction. High on a ridge on the other side of the trampled fields were the Pikata Jiadin.

“There are a lot of them,” nodded Lord Marak, “but that alone will not allow them to win. Our people are ready for them. I just spent a few hours reviewing the troops. They are ready.”

“Do you really think we have a chance?” asked Lord Quilo. “The Jiadin are on horseback and our men are on foot. They could just race past our defenses.”

“We have a few surprises planned for them,” smiled Lord Marak. “They will find their ability to trot to the Balomar mansion slightly hampered.”

“The mages?” questioned Lord Patel.

“Yes,” answered Lord Marak. “Our mages will not be expected. The one fear that I have is Zygor. From what I have heard, he is a powerful magician. Whatever part he plays in this battle will probably surprise us. I do not know what to expect form him. I can only hope that our surprise is more effective than his.”

Lord Marak gazed at the distant Fortung Mountains. The first glint of the sun was swiftly approaching the peaks. His eyes dropped to the gathered Jiadin and saw them forming ranks.

“They are coming,” declared the Torak lord. “Mages gather around me.”

The twenty air mages formed a semicircle around Lord Marak and immediately wove air tunnels to the areas that they were to communicate with. Lord Marak nodded appreciatively as he kept his eyes glued on the Jiadin.