SONG OF POWER

Chapter X: Wizards of the True World

SONG OF POWER
CHAPTER X:  WIZARDS OF THE TRUE WORLD

  

“Where is the boy?!” demanded an armored man in fur robes, his black beard bristling with his fury.  The air around him dropped noticeably in temperature, responding to his wrath.  Though still the screams came from Cyen, most of them had died away as most of those able to scream had died.

“I no know,” gurgled a trembling goblin before the man.  Though large and powerful among others of its kind, the goblin was small compared to the furious human before it.

The man stood over six feet tall and possessed a powerful, muscular body.  His plate armor was forged from sheets of elemental ice, under which he wore mail of cold iron.  He wore a heavy cloak of furs and carried a double-headed battleaxe, also wrought of ice.  The goblin cowered before its master.

“Where is the boy?” the man repeated his question, his words heavy with suppressed rage.  He pointed his hand at the goblin; tendrils of sub-zero mist emanated from his fingertips and began to slowly coil around the goblin, never touching it.  The goblin’s britches quickly became dark with piss.

“I no know! Boy and breeders run to cart, vanish!” the goblin cried.  The tendrils of ice-mist seemed to relax, slowly retracting from around the goblin.  Relieved, the reeking humanoid nervously adjusted its belt—a white belt woven from actual snow, with fell magicks keeping it from melting.  The man seemed to ponder this information.

“Damn!” he bellowed, his hand clenching in a fist.  The tendrils of icy mist responded, tightly wrapping around the goblin.  Where they touched its flesh and clothing quickly became glazed with arcane rime, and in mere moments the goblin was frozen solid like meat left too long to keep in the snow.  The man sighed and clubbed the frozen goblin on the head with his fist, shattering it into sickly, meaty chunks.  The man looked down at his soiled gauntlet and sighed.  He surveyed the carnage around Cyen, grim satisfaction creeping into his heart.

“He’ll flee to Emeria, to where my forces cannot follow, but he’ll make a mistake.  When it happens…they’ll be mine.  Gaury!” the man yelled.  He was immediately joined by a black-robed man with a wicked scythe.

“Yes, Lord Belinore?”  Gaury appeared plump and sickly, but his voice betrayed no malady.  He bowed respectfully to Belinore.

“Head to Riverton in Emeria; I have a feeling that you will be seeing the boy there in a day or two.”  Gaury again bowed to his superior.

“Your orders, Lord?”

“Bring me the boy.”

* * * * *

Gaury went immediately to Riverton using his magic and waited.  When Baronet Cipher and his Covey arrived it was not difficult for him to hide under their carriage.  Gaury had an old friend who was in Linken, and it took very little persuasion to convince her to attack Cipher and his wives.

Gaury’s heart was filled with horror when the ambush failed; using magic he hastened to Belinore’s side.

“Gaury, you return.  Yet…I do not see the boy.  Tell me the boy is in your possession somewhere and that you have come here to make demands of me,” Belinore said, his voice like distant thunder.

“No, Lord Belinore.  He is traveling the North Road across Emeria.  I sprung a trap on him, but alas, he is more capable than we thought,” Gaury watched the expression on Belinore’s face change, and the sudden realization of his peril crept into his evil heart.

“You failed to capture the boy?” Belinore rumbled, looming over the death priest.

“Yes, but I know his direction of travel!”