by Pfantazm
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The next afternoon, Bastian felt a tremble in his spine.
They were riding through a heavily wooded area. The trees might conceal anything. The mage kept watch. He spotted a man standing high on a limb. An archer. Bastian turned his head away, but locked eyes on the man, waiting for the shot. The highwayman fired directly at him. Bastian focussed on the arrow, slowing it until he could pluck it from mid-air and set it quietly on the driver's seat beside him. "Get ready," he warned, in a low tone that reached the other guards. Bastian watched the archer. The man was ready to fire again. He released his second shaft. Something was wrong. It wasn't.... The archer had switched targets! Bastian had but a moment to react, but it was not enough. The carriage guard on Bastian's left clutched his chest and fell from his horse. On that cue, a whoop went up from the forest around them. A mass of men, armed with swords, knives, and clubs poured out toward them. Bastian reacted quickly. He picked up the arrow he'd caught and, with his mind, sent it flying back to its source. It found the archer's heart, and he toppled from his branch. The mage leapt from the seat and ran over to a guard who was outmatched at the sword. He came up to the Marauder and jumped onto his back. When the bandit reached up to get him off, Bastian gripped his wrists and sent him on his way to justice. Bastian dropped to the ground, the now ownerless sword at his feet. He dashed off to the front of the carriage. One bandit's body lay on the ground already and Sir Madoc was fighting a second. He was clutching his side, but he still managed to disarm his opponent. The High Guardsman forced his adversary to the ground, where Bastian dispatched him. Sir Madoc raced off to fight another, and Bastian went around the horses to the other side of the coach. Here a carriage guard was battling a Marauder with a dagger. A second was creeping up behind him with a club. Bastian called out to warn him, but it was too late. The guard fell in a heap on the ground. Acid in his veins, Bastian retaliated nastily. He concentrated, and set the man's club on fire. The brigand yelped, dropped his weapon and ran. His companion made the mistake of trying to grab Bastian, and was quickly removed from the fray. At the rear of the coach, Thom was fighting close quarters with another Marauder. The blond fought like a thief: his sword still sheathed, but his dagger in his hand. The enemy swiped at Thom's face and connected, for his blade was bloodied when next Bastian saw it. The mage jumped in and punched the man in the face. The Marauder staggered back. "Where's your sword?" Thom yelled. "I can't carry one," Bastian called back as he wrenched the highwayman's arm behind his back. "I need my hands free." He wrestled with his opponent but reached the other hand. "Another one! He's getting in!" they heard. The pair of them raced around to the side of the coach with the door. Which was open. The coward with the club had found a sword and battled one guard while another fought a man with a quarterstaff. The remaining two guards were also busy. A fifth robber was inside the coach. Thom attacked the staff fighter, stabbing him in the arm. Bastian pushed by and up to the steps into the coach in time to catch a falling Marauder. Lennox had pushed him backwards out the door. Bastian made quick work of him and turned around. The staff fighter was dead, the guard's sword still in his stomach. The coward was staring at Lennox. "A trap! Run for it, boys. It's a trap!" The few remaining Marauders were rushing into the forest. Bastian wanted to get the one who'd seen Lennox, but he'd lost him. Sir Madoc was chasing a bandit, though. The mage produced an illusion of flame before the robber and he stopped. Sir Madoc caught him easily. The guards were alone on the road. Bastian went around the coach to check the guard who'd been clubbed. The man was dead. Bastian felt a tightness in his chest. Had he been faster he could have prevented both deaths. Instead all he could do was say a prayer to Palmerin to speed the fallen warriors to their rest. He found the bodies of the bandit Sir Madoc killed and the quarterstaff fighter, looked at their faces, and sent them to the cell in Cal-Dragan's dungeon. The battle had not lasted long but much had been done, and much lost. "Sir Bastian!" Thom cried. He was hanging out the door to the carriage. "It's Lennox!" The mage raced up the steps. He pushed past Thom, Sir Madoc and another guard. Lennox was curled up in a ball and shaking uncontrollably. He kneeled at the redhead's side and touched his forehead. He had to try to reach Lennox's mind. Bastian called out to him. The mage entered Lennox's consciousness. Quickly, he sought the mind that would normally occupy this space. It was there, very small, as though trying to hide in the corner. Bastian pleaded to him. He'd failed so many times that day; he refused to lose Lennox like this.
Please come back to us. We need you here.
Lennox. Please. Those frightened green eyes opened once more, and Lennox twitched as he tried to sit up. "Glad to see you're back," Thom said. "Thank you, Sir Bastian." "Come. There's one of them outside. We'd like you there while we talk to him," Bastian said. Lennox didn't look sure, but Bastian gripped his hand. He seemed to gain courage, but he was still shaking. He followed the others out. "You better be afraid, Lenny!" their captive said. "When Kraid catches up with you--" One guard kicked him in the stomach. Lennox's grip on Bastian's hand tightened. Bastian squeezed back before going to conduct the interrogation. Bastian used every scare tactic he knew to get answers out of their stubborn captive. He never enjoyed the job, but he was good at it. At the end of the questioning, just as Bastian was about to use the ferreae manicae on the last Marauder of the day, Lennox shouted, "Wait!" Bastian looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but Lennox seemed not to notice. "Cort, tell the others... tell them I didn't know. I'm sorry." The highwayman glared at the redhead until Bastian vanished him. He hoped he didn't have to worry about Lennox's loyalty as well. The port was also where the four men were headed. Lennox knew of a warehouse where Kraid could pick up much-needed supplies after having to abandon his secret camp for a second time within a month. The remaining Marauders would get there a day ahead of them, but the Harvest Festival would likely let them feel they could tarry. Bastian reached under Thom's shirt and let his energies bleed out into the younger man's body to heal it. He felt Thom's muscles tense briefly, then relax. "How does that feel?" Bastian asked when he felt the energy cycle back to himself. "Whoo! I feel better than I have in a long time!" "The healing will cure everything," the mage explained, "aches, cuts, bruises. Things you didn't notice were wrong with you." "But it also makes you hungry. No wonder Madoc was itching to go hunt dinner." Bastian had sensed less animosity from Thom over the last day, and though he didn't know which god to thank for it, he was glad for it. "Next, I'd like to see how we're doing for progress. Lennox?" Their witness, who was watching with interest, spoke up. "Yes?" "How many Marauders were there?" "Oh. Let me count. Kraid and Damon, Cort, Ulrich,... Benet, Simon, Vere and Vin,... Addax, um... Edric, Benet,--" "You said him before," Thom pointed out. "Oh. How many is that? Eleven?" "Ten," Thom said. Bastian was afraid of this. "There's an easier way. It will also help us to find them in Annisport. I can get their imprint from you. I'll need to look into your mind, though." "Okay," Lennox said happily. The mage recalled some of the things he knew of Calder's childhood, that he'd been sent to an asylum until rescued by the Council, driven mad by the secrets of others. "This is not a thing to be taken lightly. I touched Cort's mind to get his name in order to frighten him. A person's name is right on the surface of the mind though. I'll need to look into your memories. I may learn things you don't want me to know." "Sir Bastian," he said, smiling, "I trust you." "Lennox, are you sure about this?" Thom said, as if to convey some sort of warning. "Very," said Lennox. He was grinning from ear to ear. "Stay still," Bastian instructed, "and let me probe. Go where your thoughts take you." Lennox nodded. The mage laid his hands at the sides of his head. Seek. A second contact is made. Remember. Bastian thought back to Lennox's days among the Marauders. He touched the memories, learning names to fit the faces of those who were already captured. There were other faces, those that had died. They called him Lenny, which he hated. They teased him for not wanting to kill. They beat him for escaping. There were other faces, his neighbors as a child, not those of Lennox, but his own. Had Lennox lived nearby to him at Pharlight? The memories were old, but new. He'd been a thief in his younger days. When he was stronger. He was after a silver ring set with topaz a man in Middlebury wanted for his wife. He missed an alarm and an arrowhead pinned him to the wall. He was sure the tip was poisoned and was meant to kill, but it was enough to catch him. He was in prison. The walls were cold stone and torches lit the hallway inadequately. He paced slowly down the corridor with an older, taller man. The prison guard was instructing him in the proper way to center himself for meditation. But he was just a boy. It was boring. He wanted to be outside. He wanted to be home. No, that was all wrong. What was happening? Loose thoughts and random memories floated by. barn was burning around me. The horses were kicking in their stalls. I was crying. I didn't know what I did. I was so scared. Mama, where broken it? Damon swung again, this time hitting me in the side and this time I could hear the ribs crack. I reached along the ground, my bloodied arm extended painfully to reach anything I could help help where am i how can this be this never happened before i have to break contact before i forget who i am what is he doing to me sat there on the bed, naked as I remembered him from the night before, but now I could see. He sat cross-legged. His long, beautiful brown hair trailing behind him. His eyes were closed, but I could see them clearly. His cock was stirring. I watched it rise. Perhaps I shouldn't be watching. I quietly backed BLaesntnioaxn I am Bastian of Pharlight, Mage to the Crown! I love you, Sir Bastian. ReturnForget. Bastian stared at Lennox in total fear. The other man had laid his hand on his cheek, but that should only have strengthened the connection slightly. The mage's own memories and thoughts should not have been intermingled with Lennox's. He didn't understand, and often magic one doesn't understand can be deadly. "Well," Thom said, bringing him back to earth, "how many?" How many what? Oh. "Fifteen. We captured nine of them today, leaving six. Kraid, Damon, Benet, Addax, Edric and Ivor. I know their faces now, and if I see one of them now, I can trace him." Just then Madoc returned with a brace of quails. Any further thoughts of what had gone wrong would wait until after dinner. Bastian's thoughts were full of Lennox, but he couldn't look his way once. The man loved him. He had felt it. It was pure and beautiful and it was directed at him. That in itself had a powerful effect. Even through his fear, Bastian couldn't help but feel a little happiness. The occasional smile shone through. Lennox was a man, though. It was the same as his problem with Sir Madoc and Thom, only this time he was personally involved. He couldn't sweep it aside. He had to admit to himself that he wasn't sure just what they did, but he was quite curious. And he had been aroused by the thoughts. Bastian would eventually, someday, be paired with a witch. It was certain to happen. The woman would take the place of a wife. In their mutual study, they would become intimate with the other's body. If he was very lucky, he could learn to love that witch. Calder, he knew, was very happy with Crylla. Bastian had never known love, not in 35 years. At least not until now. He hugged himself. The mage reminded himself that love would make no difference, one way or the other. His job forced him to travel, and Lennox could hardly follow him around all the time. He tried, once more, to forget such matters. And failed once more. | ||
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