The Battlemage

The General's Guard

  By the time General Palladius had arrived at Forst Caster it had been three and a half days since Ashwyn had heard from his pair of battlemages. That didn't bode well and Palladius feared he was too late.

   As he and his pair of personal guards rode through the gate, his eyes widened. The fort was filled with civilians. Many of them were dressed in little more than shredded rags, their faces and bodies unwashed and battered.

  Fort Caster's commanding officer, a Captain named Johanson, stood at attention in the center of the parade ground.

  "General Palladius, sir!" he said.

  Palladius returned the Captain's salute and brought his horse to a stop. "What's going on here Captain? Who are all these people?"

   "Survivors of the raid on Blackstone, sir," replied Johanson. "They just started arriving early this morning. I'm sorry, sir, we didn't know of your arrival and didn't have time to prepare the fort."

  Palladius held up his hand. He needed no apology, he was just glad that the garrison seemed to be aiding the villagers the best they could. That's all he could ask of these men, and yet he knew he was about to ask more.

  "Have you seen a pair of battlemages? Did they arrive with the villagers?" asked Palladius.

  Johanson bowed his head and Palladius understood before he even answered. "I'm sorry, sir. The villagers say that one of the battlemages was killed during the rescue and the other was captured."

   Palladius felt his mouth go dry and his stomach tighten into knots. "How many men do you currently have ready to do battle with the enemy, Captain?"

   "As many as you need, sir" said Johanson.

   Palladius doubted that very much, because he felt at this moment that he needed a whole army. The army that had been denied to him by their king.

  "I want to know where these people were being held. We'll start looking for our lost battlemage there," said Palladius.

  Adalina was so weak that she could barely lift her head. She'd been beaten and tortured to exhaustion, and well past it. Any normal person would have died long ago, but she wasn't a normal person. She was a battlemage, and a battlemage with a grudge at that. Her anger would see her through this.

  The raiders had decided to pull up stakes and move camp, just in case she had somehow managed to reveal their position to the Miran army. They had tied her up in a horse barn and she figured that she was on some sort of farm. It was likely they'd killed the owners since there hadn't been any other prisoners tied up with her.

   Another tragedy she intended to avenge.

 The barn door creaked open and a raider stepped in. He was carrying a wooden bowl, steaming with stew. It actually smelled pretty good and Adalina's mouth watered. Her stomach grumbled, begging her to eat.

  Adalina had a different plan. She was going to escape this barn and figure out a way to contact Ashwyn. If she could do that, she could tell him where she was and hopefully get some reinforcements. Then, she'd slaughter these bastards.

   The raider came closer.

 Adalina could read his face like a book. He had no intention of giving her the food. His attentions were darker.

  The raider sat on a bale of hay only a few feet from her. He scooped out a spoonful of stew and jammed it into his ugly, battle scarred face.

  Adalina wanted him closer.