The Mortal Mage, page 30
part #3 of The Mortal Mage Series
An entourage of Krepps followed behind Garegor, a mixture of male and female. All of them had their gazes set on Desil. Garegor stopped right in front of Desil, where he couldn’t ignore the Kreppen musk.
One of the females in the group came forward. “You run in fight?” she asked with a thick accent.
So that’s what this anger was about. Now this made sense. Word must’ve spread that Desil and the others had fled during the attack. They’d come out of it uninjured, while one Krepp had died, and another might soon as well. Of course the Krepps would see them as dishonorable.
“We did not run,” Desil explained. “We had to dodge.” At seeing her confusion, he asked, “Do you know this word?”
“No.”
“Dodge, like this.” Desil moved quickly to one side, then to another. “We had to make their attacks miss. They shot fireballs and arrows.”
The woman didn’t seem to understand as she spoke to Garegor in Kreppen. Her common tongue was probably worse than Desil’s Kreppen. The Krepps chatted amongst themselves, giving looks at Desil that made it clear they didn’t approve of him any longer. Desil started to think of how he could explain strategic retreat in Kreppen when Rickik started his announcement.
Desil hurried to join Beatrix and Kirnich near Nebre.
“They think we fled during the attack,” Desil informed the couple.
“That explains the anger,” Beatrix said.
Nebre said, “My father is explaining to all Krepps what happened last night.”
“What’s he saying exactly?” Beatrix asked.
“Humans in costume as Krepps attacked your home with fire. You ran and shouted. Krepps came to fight them.” Nebre paused as he listened. “Then he describes those injured and killed.”
“Let me speak for us,” Beatrix told Nebre.
He shook his head. “You won’t speak unless my father asks you something.”
Rickik was in the center of the large arena as he bellowed. Nebre and Desil’s party stood a good distance away but still close enough to be seen by every Krepp watching. Desil had gotten used to the audience, until now, when he found malice in their yellow eyes.
Rickik finally asked something that Nebre translated. “Who were these humans?”
“He doesn’t know?” Beatrix asked. “Don’t translate that.”
“We know what we know,” Nebre replied quickly, his voice heavy with anger. “And we don’t know what we don’t. You will tell us everything you know, and you won’t lie. Or you three will be fortunate to leave with your lives.”
“Those men are loyal to my brother,” Beatrix announced with a surprisingly loud voice. “My brother, the king of Kyrro—Allephon Estlander—sent them here to kill us and steal what we’ve brought.”
The audience was silent even after Nebre translated.
“Why?” Rickik asked.
“Because my brother is a greedy human fighting a war. He wants all the power he can get. The metal we’ve brought here…” She paused. Desil feared she might finish the sentence. If the Krepps knew exactly how powerful the akorell was, it would immediately become more valuable than the honor of keeping his party alive.
“The metal is important to many humans,” Beatrix continued. “If used in the right way, it has the power to destroy walls. We await loyal humans to come here and help us use it to threaten my brother into ending the war. My brother doesn’t want that, and he’s shown what he will do to take that power. He tried to kill us, but what’s worse is that he invaded Kreppen land and killed some of your own. The three of us standing here would never do that, and neither would the humans coming here to help us.”
Many of the Krepps chatted amongst themselves, but they fell silent when Rickik spoke.
“If they are the humans you describe,” Nebre said, “then why did you run and not fight?”
“We did not run,” Beatrix began, but Nebre translated Rickik’s interruption before she could continue, and the crowd erupted in anger.
“Krepps saw you,” Nebre explained. “They were chasing you when our Krepps attacked them. Do not lie.”
“It is not a lie. We were surrounded, so Desil took us into the ground.”
Nebre put up his hand mid-translation. “I don’t understand.”
“Desil, show them with Kirnich.”
Kirnich stepped away from Desil. “He can do it on his own. There was dirt everywhere afterward. Everywhere.”
“Just go already!” Beatrix snapped.
Desil hesitated. Not only was the experience unpleasant, like Kirnich described, it was dangerous. But Beatrix had already continued to announce to the Krepps. “We were surrounded, and one of their mages shot a fireball at us.” She gestured as if shooting at Desil with a wand.
He and Kirnich fell into the liquid dirt and started toward Beatrix, Desil’s hand on Kirnich’s back. She was more than a few meters away, making their underground trek long. When he felt that they must’ve passed her by now, he came up behind her and climbed out with Kirnich as she continued her story. The Krepps pointed at Desil and Kirnich while speaking in murmurs of surprise.
“This was when the three of us were going to engage our enemies, but you Krepps had already bravely joined the fight. Our enemies fled from you, and we were too far behind them to help. We were angry we couldn’t fight them. We wanted the honor of killing them ourselves!”
The Krepps broke out in chatter. Nebre couldn’t translate, for he was busy speaking with his father.
Eventually Rickik asked through his son, “Your brother is at war against King Hawthen in Tenred. We know this. So why don’t you give the power to destroy walls to King Hawthen?”
“Because he isn’t better than my brother. There’s no telling what he will do with Kyrro once he controls it. He could kill me as well, simply because I share the same blood as my brother, his enemy. There is no evidence Hawthen would be a good ruler. As the first king to control both Tenred and Kyrro, it would be too easy for him to abuse his power.”
“While that may be true,” Nebre said before translating any of this to his father, “working with King Hawthen is the best way to get justice for us Krepps. His army will kill your brother and his soldiers, or capture them and give them to us.”
“Why would Hawthen work with Krepps?”
“Because some Krepps would fight with him, for justice!”
Desil shot a dire look at Beatrix. These were dangerous words that Nebre was not yet translating to Rickik and the audience, who all could be in agreement.
Desil relaxed when Beatrix put up her hand and showed Nebre a look of confidence. She announced, “If Hawthen is about to win the war, my brother is likely to run. He will take those most loyal with him on a ship—the same men who came in here without permission and killed Krepps. But if Allephon can’t escape, he will hide until he has a chance to flee. There is no guarantee that the humans responsible for this great dishonor will receive the punishment they deserve, unless we are all patient. I know it’s more difficult to wait than to fight, but waiting is the right strategy in this situation.”
“Wait how long?” Rickik asked.
“Not much longer. I can’t give you an exact amount of days, but it should be less than a month now.”
“What happen before month?” Rickik asked.
“We will end the war on our own terms. It’s the only way to ensure that we capture the dishonorable humans, while keeping ourselves alive. We’ll need the continued support of your honorable Krepps, great leader. We need your protection as we build what must be built and fight whoever comes to stop us. It’s difficult for all of us to remain patient, but it is the only way.”
The skeptical looks on many lizard-like faces showed that a fair number of Krepps were against this idea.
“The Krepps generosity will not be forgotten!” Beatrix said with vigor. “There will be at least one great battle, I’m sure of it. Let the Krepps with the most strength and courage join us, and they will be rewarded with bastial steel swords! Rickik, you and your Krepps have fought with humans before because of this promise, so you know we stay true to our word. Let your Krepps prove themselves in this arena and the best will then fight against disrespectful humans to end this war. They will receive bastial steel blades that will stay sharp through endless generations. The Krepps who earn these weapons will live on forever through them. What do you say?”
The air in the arena shifted as Nebre finished translating. Every Krepp wanted a bastial steel weapon, all volunteering to fight by thrusting their hands in the air as they cheered.
Rickik shouted, “Jektik!” Fight hard!
Beatrix rejoined Kirnich and Desil. The warrior asked her, “Are you sure we can give them bastial steel?”
“I’m not even sure we can build this damn thing, let alone use it to threaten my brother. But if we can do all that, we can certainly get bastial steel for these Krepps.”
“We’d have to actually use the device to make bastial steel,” Desil said.
“Yes, so we should all start getting comfortable with that idea.” Beatrix gave him a look from the side of her eyes. “Allephon is not one to back down until he absolutely has to. I would assume Hawthen is the same way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Rickik surprised Desil by changing the format of the fighting in the arena. Whoever beat Kirnich, Rickik announced through Nebre, would have the honor of representing the Krepps in the battle to come. Not even the humans here with the Krepps knew when or where the battle would take place, but if everything Beatrix said about her brother was true, then there certainly would be one.
Rickik also decided that Kirnich would only fight five Krepps each time, but everyone would meet in the arena twice a day. At great disappointment to the audience, Rickik said the weapons would be dull. Desil saw why this was after watching the first opponent Kirnich had to face. The points she scored against him were strikes to his arms and legs that might’ve done permanent damage had her blade been sharp.
She made all the Krepps before her look slow and was too fast for Kirnich to keep track of all of her movements. Her victory elicited cheers. Kirnich hadn’t seemed close to scoring a point, yet none of the Krepps appeared surprised by this.
They cheered even louder when Garegor was called to fight next. Kirnich was cursing throughout the fight as he tried to fend off Garegor’s attacks, but the Krepp fought with hands and feet, jumping and cartwheeling, and eventually scored two hits—one downward strike onto Kirnich’s shoulder and a strong sweep after catching Kirnich’s kicking boot.
Desil never realized just how great his advantage was over his non-magical opponents until he saw Garegor, one he’d defeated, best Kirnich.
The warrior, already drenched with sweat, came over to them for a swig of water from the pouch he’d left with Beatrix.
“I’ve never fought anyone so fast,” he grumbled in anger. “I’m getting humiliated.”
“You’re not. Rickik expected them to win,” Beatrix soothed. “He’s giving you his best fighters, finally.”
“He gave one of them to Desil, and the boy won.”
“You would with Majlan,” Desil said.
“Just do your best,” Beatrix said. “This is only about pride now. We already have the Krepps invested in this war. They’re not going to throw us out.”
Kirnich glanced over his shoulder at his next opponent. The Krepp awaited him stoically. She did not speak, gesture, or spit like many of the opponents the previous days. She had a cloak on like Garegor and the female before him, this one was gray with the image of a gaping maw sewn into it.
“Look at the size of that female!” Kirnich complained.
It was true; this Krepp was larger than most males.
“Use your advantage,” Beatrix said.
“What advantage? She has power, reach, and speed.”
“You’re smarter.” She spoke the words as if they were obvious.
“Not smart enough to know how that’s going to help me.”
“Well then, you’d better figure it out soon. They’re waiting.”
“Tell me!” Kirnich’s voice was severe, but his smile spoke of a jest.
Beatrix chuckled. “You’re the master of sword combat, not me!”
He grumbled as he turned on his heels and walked with courage toward his opponent. He let out a battle cry as he brought down his weapon, only for it to be blocked. Kirnich appeared to have anticipated this, though, using the momentum of his deflected blade to thrust its dulled tip toward the Krepp’s hip. But the creature spun with a natural quickness, not only avoiding the attack but striking Kirnich in the ass hard enough to knock him on his knees.
Kirnich looked over his shoulder at Beatrix and Desil with an expression that made them both laugh. He put on a look of absolute anger, so extreme—with wide eyes and flaring nostrils—that it couldn’t have been natural. He even grinned slightly as he got up.
“He’s doesn’t anger as easily as he used to,” Desil commented as Kirnich engaged the Krepp again.
“Mmhmm,” was all Beatrix would say on that matter.
Desil figured that Kirnich’s ability to act on his feelings toward the princess had something to do with it. Even losing to these Krepps, he seemed happy.
It was obvious the more Desil thought about it. If Leida was here, there would be very few things that could bring him down again.
Kirnich didn’t lose to all five Krepps, fortunately. He did beat the last one, barely, and this Krepp wasn’t any bigger than Kirnich. The creature looked younger than all the other opponents, his smaller muscles still developing. Desil asked Nebre about it and found out that the Krepp was only thirteen in human years. Still, he had scored one point and nearly another, causing Kirnich to roll across the ground to avoid a hard slash.
Beatrix still had to face ten opponents, but none of them showed any sign of resistance. Desil asked Nebre after she took down her tenth Krepp, “Is Rickik choosing the strongest-minded Krepps to face her, like he chose the best fighters to face Kirnich?”
“Yes. Perhaps there is no hope against psyche.”
The statement shouldn’t have caused Desil to feel as much fear as it did, but he couldn’t help it. He was reminded of the Elves, Fatholl specifically, and how there were worse threats than Micklin and Erwal.
Nebre told Desil that he would fight two Krepps each time in the arena, so a total of four a day now. But with Desil’s connection to the other plane, he found it easy to tell when the Krepps would change from defensive to aggressive. It was even easier to shift the land beneath their feet. They still had a chance to strike him by jumping when they thought he would turn the dirt to liquid, but he anticipated it each time and avoided it. One Krepp nearly scored a hit when he spat in Desil’s eyes before attacking, but Desil’s reflexes were sharp enough for him to get out of the way and turn the ground soft.
If only he had his mother’s ability to make walls of sartious energy, then he would be able to defend himself against arrows and fireballs as well as he could against swords. But even if he had that ability, how would he resist Fatholl’s psychics? How were any of his allies supposed to win a battle against the Elves if it came to that?
All Desil knew was that he had to figure out that answer soon enough. Fatholl already knew where they were. Why he hadn’t sent Basen here yet was still a mystery. Bastial hell, Fatholl could have invaded with an entire army and probably convinced the Krepps not to take action. What is he waiting for?
With the arena fighting over for the day, Desil and the others were escorted to their new home. It was deep within the colony, like the last one, and well protected. And just like the last one, there were three rooms. The entrance room, just after the door, was tiny, basically just a hearth. Two bedrooms made up the bulk of the house, with crunchy and lumpy mattresses that Desil was used to by now.
“I’m going to speak with Leida,” he told Beatrix and Kirnich.
“We should train while there’s still light,” Kirnich suggested.
“I need to know why Basen hasn’t come yet so we can plan.”
“Why would she know?”
“Let him try to find out,” Beatrix told Kirnich.
The warrior seemed to have some sort of understanding as he leaned back with an open mouth and said, “Ah.”
Desil didn’t care if they thought he was just eager to speak to her. He really did need to find out about Basen. He entered the other plane as smoothly as taking a breath. With practice, any difficult task such as this became easy, though he would have to enjoy that realized victory later. He called for Leida. She was quick to answer.
“Desil?”
“Expecting someone else?”
A pulsing light past the horizon showed her laughter. “I’m happy to speak again. Is there anything urgent you need to tell me?”
“No.”
“Good, because I don’t want to wait any longer to thank you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“No, but I want to. I had given up until you forced me to speak with you. Now I have hope again. There’s nothing better than regaining it after it was lost.”
Desil noticed his own energy brightening as joy took over. “What about freedom?”
“Yes, that would be better,” she answered quickly and laughed again.
“After the Wind Knights arrive, we will figure out how to get you out of there. I believe they will be here soon.”
“They will.”
“Are you hopeful or do you know this somehow?” Desil asked.
“I know from Fatholl. He’s waiting until the Wind Knights get there to send my father. His Elves watch them. They should arrive tomorrow.”
The tone of her voice, or in this plane the dark tinge of her energy, made her disappointment apparent.
“What is your father going to do?” Desil asked.
“Fatholl hasn’t allowed me to speak to him, but I still think I know. He will take the akorell from you if he’s able to and bring it to Fatholl. Desil, promise me that you will not let him do that.”
