A Wizard's War

Amos’ eyes came open slowly and he took in his surroundings. There was still pain in his head and his body ached horribly. He looked at the wooden rafters overhead and could not recall how he had arrived in his current situation. There had been much walking and when he could no longer walk, they had placed him in a travois. The entire city was a smoking ruin on the horizon. Amos felt a tear fall from his eye and suddenly wanted not to remember any more.

“Lie still,” a woman spoke, “take it easy.”

Amos looked to his left and saw the young lady sitting in a small chair by the darkened fireplace. She sat knitting something by candlelight instead. He tried to recall her name.

“We can’t light a fire… someone may see the smoke,” Dagon had said that, but Amos wasn’t sure when. He had said it to her and that’s why it was so cold and the fireplace so dark. But her name still escaped him.

“There, there,” she was by his side now and a soothing hand touched his brow and cupped his cheek.

“We were worried for a while,” she spoke, “but you seem to have pulled through. The head wound was the worst, but then the burns on your leg got infected. You’ve been delirious with fever.”

Amos looked back up at her, trying hard to remember more. She had light red hair and many freckles across her nose. Her fair features stood in stark contrast to the bleak surroundings.

“We bled you, cut out the damage,” she patted his knee, “And Dagon knew of a bark that helped reduce your fever. Made some truly horrible tea.”

“Who?” Amos croaked followed by “Where?” which was interrupted by a coughing fit. His chest felt on fire, and he struggled to regain his breath.

“Hold on, Darlin,” She ran out of view and returned with some water, which Amos took gratefully.

“I’m Zara,” she said after he had settled a bit and was lying comfortably with his eyes half closed, “Can’t blame you for not remembering. I met Dagon as he was trying to get you out of Southport. The whole city was ablaze, and he had to hide for a while in the rubble of that building you were in.”

“Where?” Amos tried again.

“Now?” Zara looked around the darkened cabin, “We are in Dagon’s home, in the forests near Eastwood.”

Zara stroked at his brow again and Amos closed his eyes. She was a comforting presence. He was relieved to hear that Dagon had survived the attack as well, but his mind drifted to Gregor. Had his friend made it out of the charred city he had seen on the horizon?

Later, the door opened, and Amos snapped awake. Zara had returned to her knitting and based on her progress, he had been asleep some time. Dagon was entering the cabin and he pulled a hood back from his head; his long curls cascaded down around his forehead. He looked disheveled and weary.

“They continue to march east,” Dagon spoke to Zara, “The soldiers in Eastwood have dwindled. Byron may have left just a small garrison to hold the town.”

“Where will they go, you think?” Zara asked.

“Without the ports,” Dagon considered, “They will move on New Mayweather or Belamere’s Crossing. To continue their conquest to the east they must cross the river.”

“Your family?” Zara asked.

“No sign of them,” Dagon dipped his head down and his curls hid his face a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Zara spoke after a pause.

Dagon’s face reappeared and he took notice of Amos for the first time.

“He lives!” Dagon shouted cheerfully as he moved closer to Amos. His hazel eyes sparkled in the candlelight as he placed a hand on Amos’ shoulder, “How are you feeling, big guy?”

“Very… lucky,” Amos rasped.

“The smoke was the worst part,” Dagon nodded, “the burning will pass in time. I’m not fully healed myself.”

“Leg… no, everything… hurts,” Amos managed.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Dagon pulled away and began grinding and brewing. Amos tried to follow his movements, but he drifted in and out of focus. Suddenly, Dagon had returned and was helping him sit up a bit to drink the tea. Amos took a swallow and immediately spit it back out.

“I warned you,” Zara smiled, suppressing a laugh, “truly horrible.”

“Hey now,” Dagon grimaced, “it will still help you feel better, so drink up.”

Knowing what to expect, Amos tried again. They were silent for a while. Amos drank slowly as he watched Dagon prepare two rabbits he had caught, and Zara helped him cook them. The two had the air of old friends just going about their normal lives, but Amos knew their meeting had been anything but normal. Barely escaping with their lives had formed an immediate bond of circumstance and survival.

“You said… east?” May…weather?” Amos finally asked as they began to eat the rabbit.

“That’s right,” Dagon nodded.

“My… family,” Amos spoke after a moment. Dagon paused his eating and looked grim as he began to comprehend.

“There is no way we’d reach the town first,” Dagon spoke after a moment, “Hopefully, they will escape to the east.”

“Must… go,” Amos clenched his fists in frustration at his current condition.

“You are not fully healed yet,” Zara replied, “You’ll be no good to anyone if you die on the way or get captured.”

“She’s right, of course,” Dagon nodded.

Amos cursed under his breath; he hated feeling so helpless.

________________________

Ellina rang her hands nervously, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress as she sat in their modest apartment. She was sweating and uncomfortable, and generally not feeling very lady-like. Her mother would not have approved. Mr. Bohanan had just informed her and Cuthbert that the city of Southport had fallen.

“What do you suggest?” Cuthbert asked, “We originally were waiting for Amos’ return.”

“I’m not sure we can count on that now,” Bohanan answered grimly.

“Don’t say that!” Ellina snapped, surprising even herself. She stood and left the room so the men would not see the tears brimming in her eyes. Safe in her own room she began to sob, scrambling for a handkerchief to wipe her nose with. She felt so hollow since her father’s death. One tragedy after another had sought out their family since that moment. Since her stupid engagement for that matter.

“My lady,” Cuthbert was rapping on the door sometime later. Ellina dried her eyes, but it would be obvious from the red, puffy quality that she had been crying.

“Come in,” she answered after a long pause to control her breathing. The door eased open, and the loyal servant peeked inside.

“I know this is not what you want to hear,” Cuthbert ventured, “But Mr. Bohanan is heading south to Breakwhite Bay. There are ships that can grant us passage to Votu L’Shoa.”

“How will Amos find us there?” Ellina asked pointedly.

“He knows we were here,” Cuthbert offered, “We can leave him a note.”

“He can’t be dead,” Ellina sniffled.

“I understand, my lady.” Cuthbert genuflected gracefully. Ellina appreciated his kindness, even though the hollowness inside persisted.

“What kind of place is Votu L’Shoa?” Ellina asked.

“Fish are a major export there, and the people are rather superstitious followers of Neptune the Sea. There is a great temple there, honoring their god. I should like to see it if we go.”

“Just a chance to get out and see the world,” Ellina mused.

“I wish more than anything we could return home,” Cuthbert sighed, “I’d give up the chance to see any stinking fish temple, just to see you smile again.”

“But that’s the one thing we can’t do,” Ellina nodded with understanding.

“Indeed, my lady.”

“Can you send for Suzanne? I’ll need to start packing.”

By the next day they were prepared to leave, and although Cuthbert had tried, the Hightowers had not been invited. Ryder Bohanan had made it clear that he only had room for Ellina and one other passenger to take on the ship. After much debate, Cuthbert had decided to give up his place for Suzanne. Ellina feared Suzanne’s potential unreliability in times of crisis, but Cuthbert could not be dissuaded. His sense of honor would be offended if he let harm come to Suzanne, and he promised to find another way to reunite with them.

Cuthbert loaded the last of her belongings onto the ferry and Ellina looked up at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t care that he saw in this moment, and she gave him a tight hug. He paused a moment in surprise and then patted her head affectionately.

“You keep your promise,” Ellina looked serious as they parted, “I won’t see that fish temple without you.”

“It’s a deal,” Cuthbert smiled down and wiped the tears from one cheek with his thumb.

“All aboard!” the ferryman shouted. And soon, Ellina was slowly drifting away from Cuthbert as he stood on the dock. Suzanne came and put a comforting arm on her shoulder, and they waved one last time.

When the ferry reached the other side, Ellina had to carry her own luggage with Suzanne’s help. She suddenly wished she didn’t own so many clothes. She had half expected Mr. Bohanan to offer some assistance, but he was busy talking to some men as soon as they arrived in Mayweather. Ellina never liked the man, but he had been gracious enough. There was just something slimy and unlikable underneath his smile, but he had been a friend to her father.

Ellina carried one bag while dragging another behind her as they maneuvered the streets by Mr. Bohanan’s direction. The town on this side of the river was much less attractive and the buildings were not well maintained. She saw bums begging, vendors on the street trying to haggle an extra coin, drunks staggering to and fro before midday. Even the streets were more mud than paving stones, which made dragging her bag that much more difficult.

They turned down a small alleyway and Ellina covered her face with a handkerchief at the foul stench of human waste. Clearly someone had been emptying their chamber pots here with little regard to foot traffic.

“Are you sure this is the way?” Suzanne asked.

“I have a carriage being prepared at a nearby stable,” Mr. Bohanan answered, “We will travel south from there.”

As they left the alley, Ellina caught movement from the corner of her eye. Two men had stepped from a doorway and now blocked the alley they had just passed through. Ellina did not miss the knives they held in their hands. She whirled around and saw the new choke point they had entered was also blocked by a cluster of men with knives.

“What is the meaning of this?” Suzanne sputtered.

“Be smart, Ellina,” Mr. Bohanan smiled, “Give me the coin purse that Cuthbert gave you.”

“Why are you doing this?” Ellina was truly taken aback by this turn of events. Her mind seemed unwilling to accept another tragedy, more danger. It just wasn’t fair.

“Men, search her things,” Bohanan ordered, “Take anything of value.”

“What of the women?” One man sneered lewdly at them.

“Don’t be disgusting,” Bohanan chided, “When I’ve gone, you can decide that for yourselves.”

“Run, Ellina,” Suzanne rounded on her with a wild look in her eye and then she leaped upon one of the men blocking the alley. Ellina had only a moment of shock as she saw Suzanne biting and thrashing with such strength. Ellina would later feel bad for doubting Suzanne’s value in a crisis. Then her mind caught up and she began to move, throwing down her bags and darting passed the second man with a knife and back down the alley. Ellina briefly heard Suzanne’s final cry as she was stabbed from behind, but this only made her run faster in fear. She turned down the next street and another and another. She had no idea where she was or what she was doing, but she just kept moving.

_______________________

“You know,” Dagon spoke after a moment, “Why I live way out here in the forest?”

Amos felt awkward under Dagon’s direct gaze, but there was little else to do as Dagon was changing the dressing on his leg. Zara had stepped out to get more water from the nearby natural spring.

“No, I don’t.”

“I was disinherited,” Dagon laughed, “by my own father.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Best thing that ever happened to me, honestly,” Dagon hid his face behind his curls as he focused on the leg. Amos expected him to explain further, but he did not.

“May I ask why?” Amos finally decided to just ask since Dagon had brought up the topic.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“You still came back to find your family though,” Amos prompted, “despite being disinherited. It must matter to you.”

“I don’t want you to…” Dagon paused, “look at me differently.”

“I’m so indebted to you,” Amos chuckled, “I could never look at you as anything but the man who saved my life.”

“I was caught by my father with my lover,” Dagon looked directly into Amos’ eyes again, “his name was Jeriah.”

Amos purposefully tried not to react to Dagon’s revelation, hoping he would feel comfortable enough to continue.

“I’d never received such a beating from him,” Dagon hid his face behind his hair as he decided it was safe to go on, “He kicked me out and I learned to live on my own. Hunting. Surviving. I was better prepared for this moment than anyone else.”

“It’s good you can see it that way.”

“I always thought one day I would get the chance to reconcile. My mother would kiss my cheek again and I’d embrace my two younger brothers. My father would finally say that he was proud of me…”

Amos was silent as a few drops fell from behind the veil of hair and dampened the fresh bandage on his leg. Dagon used the back of his sleeve to wipe at his face before looking back up and such fire burned in his hazel eyes.

“Those bastards took all of that away from me,” Dagon spoke wildly, “And I will make them pay before this war is over. In time, with your help, we can take back this town.”

“I’m sorry,” Amos shook his head, “When I’m fully healed, I’m going to find my sister in New Mayweather. She is the only family I have left.”

“You can’t be convinced?” Dagon asked.

“Even if we took this town,” Amos reasoned, “How would we hold it if they sent reinforcements? They have the numbers. I’d love to fight and take back Westwood too, but we can’t hold it alone.”

“You’re right, of course,” Dagon frowned, “Same argument that Zara made.”

“I’m sorry,” Amos squeezed Dagon’s arm reassuringly, “that they stole your dream from you.”

“That dream was just as unrealistic,” Dagon smiled weakly before disappearing again behind his hair. Amos sat quietly drinking the horrible tea and his awkward new friend began to sing his new mournful song:

A mechanical beast from stories old

Its armor impenetrable magic's hold

We saw the fires upon the seas

A day of woe, and death to dreams…