Bascoms revenge, p.1
Bascom's Revenge, page 1
This is an uncorrected proof for review purposes only.
The Mist Gate Crossings: Bascom’s Revenge
Text Copyright © 2015 by Susan Bianculli
Photo Copyright © Shutterstock.com/Anneka
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without express permission of the copyright holder.
For more information, write:
CBAY Books
PO Box 670296
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Children’s Brains are Yummy Books
Dallas, Texas
www.cbaybooks.com
First Electronic Edition 2015
ebook ISBN: 978-1-933767-45-1
This is an uncorrected proof for review purposes only.
PROLOGUE
Bascom Bloodknife stood in a little room off the audience chamber of the broken keep—the second room to be restored to order through a combination of Mageling magic and brute strength. The large, grey-green skinned Miscere Ogre mage pored over the large map of the valley and the surrounding mountains. Slowly blinking his lizard-like eyes, a nearby Ataque waited patiently to be handed the steadily growing pile of parchment growing on the map table at the mage’s left. Bascom had been writing out instructions since sunrise to be given to the many quads of guards waiting to be sent out to search for the run-away keep prisoners and whoever it was that had helped them escape. But most especially, to search for the one who had murdered Morsca.
Morsca. Morsca! He would never have her in his arms again. Never again have her luscious green hair drift across his chest as she caressed him. Never again hear her cool laughter ring in his ears. Never again see her elvish eyes light up as he performed magic just for her. He clenched his chunky hands as anger rose in him, and accidentally snapped his quill in half. He glared at it, then threw the weighted feather pen across the room in disgust. The Ataque recoiled as ink droplets spattered across everything from the force of Bascom’s throw.
Bascom, knowing that a display of fury would not serve him now, inhaled deeply and sharply. He released his breath slowly while forcing his fists to open up one finger at a time. The red rage behind his eyes subsided by the time he reached his thumbs, and when the fingers in his hands were no longer tense he waved one of them while intoning a couple of words. A light flashed from a decoration on his sleeve, and the ink drops and the pen vanished. Bascom picked up the pile of parchment orders and shoved it wordlessly at the Ataque servitor, who bowed low before him and scurried out as quickly as possible.
Bascom stalked over to the tall lattice window and stared sightlessly out it. If only he could use his magic to find the culprits! But they had been too good at covering their tracks – there was no one left alive that he could interrogate for information. He had nothing on which to fasten his scry. Not that he was in the frame of mind to be able to scry right now anyway. He slammed his fist on the window frame as anger rose again, making it shudder. He would find out his love’s killer. He would. Even if it took all the resources of the valley to do it ….
CHAPTER 1
The first sign of trouble came when Auraus dived down from scouting height toward Arghen, Jason, Dusk and myself on the mountain canyon road. Her Wind-rider’s wings were held tight behind her like a falcon’s to ensure maximum speed. We pulled up short on the reins of our various mounts to wait for her.
“Coming up behind you!” she yelled as she neared us, fear and anger mixed in her tone.
The mid-morning sun lit up her white-and-gold feathers as she barely cleared our mixed little group of travelers to land on the rocky ground beside us.
“How many?” Dusk asked her.
“What kinds?” Arghen asked, a breath behind the Miscere Surface-elf.
“At least fifty; and mostly marching Goblins!” Auraus answered them both.
“Madre de Dios!” Jason softly cursed as both Dusk’s and Arghen’s amber-colored eyes narrowed at her words.
So far, the five of us had been making good time in getting away from the collapsing ruins of the slave trader Morsca’s realm. It had been a long and vicious fight just two nights ago to save ourselves from her, but in the end we had escaped from the keep alive. She hadn’t. It had only been a few hours since sunrise when we’d left the rocky cave where we’d rested after the fight. Since then we’d been following the Wind-rider’s directions through the maze-like canyon passages that would eventually lead us down from the mountains. We hadn’t run into any of Morsca’s bands since we’d started, but it seemed our luck on that score was about to run out.
My immediate order of “Get yourselves ready!” mixed with Dusk’s ready command of “Weapons out!”
The Miscere Surface-elf and I exchanged glances, and I frowned slightly at him. But it was I who looked away first as Dusk and I drew our sheathed swords and Dusk slid off the back of Jason’s horse, Maris. Arghen readied his Under-elven war spear in his albino hands, and Jason’s brown eyes sighted along his crossbow looking for defects he might have to account for in its use.
Once again, my order of “Everybody spin around and fall into a defensive line!” mixed with Dusk’s command of “Turn and form a protective rank!”
I shot Dusk a brief glare. Why was he giving commands? Arghen had said that giving orders in battle was something I should be doing to get better at it, not Dusk!
We urged our mounts to spread across the road blocking the way in the direction Auraus had said the enemy was coming.
With the enemy walking, I thought, and Dusk apparently thought so, too, they might pause before attacking mostly mounted fighters in this narrow space.
The Wind-rider came up to stand beside me on the road, her short sword at the ready and wings flattened around her. I considered for a moment that maybe she should do something from the air, or cast a spell, but I decided that neither was a good idea. Even if Auruaus were to drop dirt and rocks on the small army from up above, this time she could do more damage with her weapon on the ground. And I wanted to make sure she had enough spell energy available for healing afterwards, if necessary.
It wasn’t long before we heard the sound of many feet from somewhere in front of us, and soon after a wild-eyed bunch of beings appeared around the bend in the canyon road. Different types of beings were dotted here and there in the mob, but mostly it was a mass of Goblins. The vanguard carried a multitude of weapons—a mixed bag of short and long handled axes and tridents, wicked looking blades mounted on long thick poles, and just regular quarter staffs, with the occasional short or long sword thrown in for flavoring. They stopped short when they saw us and gave out what sounded like a blood thirsty roar. The group then advanced toward us step by slow step, shaking their weapons at us in a threatening manner.
“Ciento y la madre!” said Jason with an edge to his voice, just loud enough for me to hear as he pulled up beside me on his grey gelding. “This is the first time we’ve faced a small army all at once.”
A mist gate to take us both back home to New York City would be a really good thing right about now, I thought, but I knew that I wasn’t lucky enough to have that happen.
“I’m sure my goddess Caelestis won’t let anything too bad happen,” I said out loud, forcing a heartiness into my voice.
My goddess. It felt both weird and right to say those words. It was because of her that Jason and Arghen and I had met, and that I had adapted to this world like a native. She was also responsible for us coming here to free our traveling companions Auraus and Dusk, as well as others, from captivity; who then in turn had helped us defeat the Miscere Surface-elf slaver, Morsca.
Jason craned his neck and looked hard at what was approaching. “Hey, Lise? Can you tell which one is the commander? Or some kind of lieutenant or something? I wanna help demoralize them.”
“No,” I replied with nervousness growing in my voice as the horde drew nearer, “I can’t tell. Maybe they are towards the back. I think you should put away your crossbow and get out your sword instead, Jason. One or two bolts against an army aren’t going to do a whole lot when we can’t tell who the leaders are, and you won’t have time to reload if they rush us.”
“Hey Lise?”
“Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say ….” He trailed off, sounding hesitant as he put away his crossbow.
“What?”
He shook his black hair. “Never mind.”
I shot him a puzzled glance, and then turned my attention back to the army. My heart sank as the number of beings coming around the bend kept increasing. I noted that the later arrivals didn’t always have a visible weapon in hand, though I did see the occasional flash of what I supposed were smaller types, like maybe knives, reflecting the sunlight. Those beings were also carrying big packs, so I guessed they were the support for the front lines—extra armaments, ration carriers, that sort of thing.
All of a sudden that seemed weird to me.
I forced myself to stop paying attention to the weapons being waved at us, and I looked hard at the beings instead. They were traveling more in a ragged mob as opposed to an ordered unit, and I thought they didn’t look angry; I thought they looked scared.
Nerves before a fight, I thought, gripping my saber more securely.
I was nervous, too, and hoped that it didn’t show too much on my face as I tucked my blonde hair behind my ears to get it out of my eyes.
The small horde screeched to a halt some half-dozen yards away from us. The closer they’d gotten, the more like villagers they’d looked to me. Axes could be u sed in war, but were also useful farm implements. And what I’d thought were tridents were actually pitchforks. So maybe those wicked bladed looking things were scythes used to harvest grain? I’d read about them in fairytales but had never seen an actual picture of one, though they did seem to fit the description now that I saw them closer. I’d've bet they could cut flesh as easily as they cut vegetation, though. Then I saw some small beings—children, maybe?—being hurried to the back of the army or being hid in the pitiful concealment of scrub vegetation that dotted the dirt and the rock of the canyons roads. The vanguard provided these folk cover by continuing to wave their weapons around, but now I could see that those armaments were shaking more because the arms holding them were trembling. And the looks that from far away were threatening were, up closer, looks of fear and anger.
I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that we were about to make a terrible mistake.
I said loud enough for both sides to hear, “Everybody of our group to the sides of the canyon walls! Let them through!”
“Que?” Jason asked as he turned to look at me, the look on his bronzed face saying he didn’t believe what he’d just heard.
“Just do it!” I snapped as I pulled on Saffron’s reins to bring my horse up against the rock wall.
I frowned when I saw Dusk and Arghen exchange looks before Dusk motioned his sandy haired head at Jason to pull Maris, Jason’s horse, over to the opposite canyon wall. Arghen urged his six-legged, black and green lizard-like dranth, Stalker, behind them. I frowned again as I saw how Auraus went along with them and not my order. This was a far cry from just two days ago when I was leading them through Morsca’s keep, and they’d listened to everything I’d said.
I grimaced to myself for my slight dishonesty. Well, okay, maybe they hadn’t listened to EVERYTHING I’d said, but close enough.
I guessed that since my divine mission was over, some people assumed I was no longer the group leader.
And when did that get decided? I wondered. Back at the cave, when Dusk settled the travel arrangements for all the other ex-prisoners? Or was it when Dusk invited us to go back to Treestall with him?
I knew that the Miscere Surface-elf was an adult and older than Arghen by a good bit, and that he had been the leader of a slaver raiding group called the Grey Riders. But he shouldn’t just presume that because of all those things that that made him leader here and now.
At least, if things were going to change, there should be a discussion about it first, I grumped to myself.
When my group was pressed up in the shadows against both canyon walls, I expected the horde to move between us and go on down the road. But I was wrong. They continued to roar at us from where they stood as if they were trying to frighten us away, and came no closer. Realizing that they weren’t going to move, I got down off my golden-colored horse and stepped out into the roadway.
“You don’t have to worry; we’re not going to harm you. Pass freely; we’re only trying to get out of the area, just like you. I make this offer in good faith as a Champion of Caelestis,” I yelled to them as I pointed to the symbol of Caelestis built into my white and gold colored chain armor.
I made a show of sheathing my saber, and then I backed up to my horse and swept my arm in a gesture which indicated they could go on. Dusk raised a sandy-colored eyebrow at me from across the way, but didn’t contradict my words. He also didn’t put away his sword. Neither did the others, though they did at least lower their weapons.
One Goblin in the lead—an older one, I thought, from the more grey than green of his skin and the tufts of grey hair sprouting from his ears—was braver than the rest. He sidled between our mounts and cast anxious glances at us as he passed through. He went a good bit beyond where we stood in the shadows of the canyon walls without our weapons being raised in threat at him, then stopped and jumped up and down on the road, waving in excitement and encouragement.
As if his actions were a stopper releasing a flood, the rest of the horde flowed between us, yelling in relief. I was thankful that the relative rockiness of the road did not allow for too much dust to be kicked up by their flight, though I watched for stray stones sent flying my way by overeager feet. The horde reached the older Goblin and continued to run past him down the canyon road, disappearing from sight around the next bend although we could hear them for some minutes afterwards. The older Goblin held his position until the last of his people had gone by, and then he ran after them but looked back over his shoulder at us time and again until he, too, disappeared from sight.
So he could give warning in case we were going to ambush them from behind, I thought to myself. That was brave of him, especially if he thought we were going to be treacherous.
Once a relative quiet had been restored, I said to the others as I remounted, “I think we need to have a discussion about leadership.”
Dusk said, “I agree, Lise, but now is not the time.” Including the others in the conversation, he said, “Let us move on. This is not a place where I would willingly have a fight. This group may have offered us no harm, but we do not know if others, who may be more hostile, are following them.”
CHAPTER 2
I pursed my lips but had to agree with Dusk’s words.
Struggling to retain some sense of command, I said, “All right, then let’s get back into the same positions we were in before.”
I turned Saffron around and clucked my tongue at him to urge him back to the center of the road. Out of the corner of my eye I caught an amused smile on Arghen’s face as he maneuvered Stalker to his position behind my horse. Auraus exchanged a fond glance with Dusk before taking to the sky again to continue guiding us. Jason and Dusk came up, with Jason shooting me quizzical glances as he reined in beside me. I ignored him. Dusk, seated once again behind Jason on Maris, nodded pleasantly to me as we continued down the road. I ignored him, too.
At noon we stopped near a crossroads to rest and feed our mounts and have some lunch ourselves. I sighed at my lunch as I dug it out of my pack, wishing it was a pizza fresh from the brick oven in the little Italian restaurant at the corner of my street. New York pizzas were the best, and I suddenly wanted one badly. Jason looked questioningly at me because of my sigh, but I shook my head at him and forced myself to eat my bread and meat. What made it taste even worse was that the issue of leadership sat like an elephant among us, but no one was willing to break the silence. And I would have been damned were I to have done it first, so I ate without meeting anybody’s eyes until Auraus stood up.
“Will nobody say anything?” she asked, hands on her hips as she swiveled her head from side-to-side to look at all of us. “Because we do need to have a leader to get us home to Treestall that all can agree upon, and there seems to be some question of leadership here.”
I glanced up at her but didn’t say anything. Neither did anyone else.
She shrugged. “Very well. I will speak then, since as a Priestess of Caelestis I choose to not vie for the position.”
I stuffed the last bite of my make-shift sandwich into my mouth and swallowed it fast. I wanted to be ready for whatever came next.
She stepped in front of the line we’d sort of arranged ourselves in against the canyon wall and spoke to each of us individually. “Dusk, you think that you should be leader because you are the oldest, are a well-trained Surface-elf warrior and tracker, and have for the last two seasonals been leader of the Grey Riders. Is there anything else that you would like to add to this?”
“I would like to add that I am three hundred seasonals old, and have over one hundred seasonals of experience in being a warrior and a leader,” he said with amusement, as if the leadership shouldn’t be in question.
The Wind-rider acknowledged his addition with a single bow of her golden head, and then she turned to Arghen, who was next in line beside him.
“Arghen,” she started, but the Under-elf held up a pale-skinned hand.
“No, my lady. I do not seek leadership of this group. I am content in being a Champion of Quiris and assisting you to your home of Treestall. There is no need to address remarks to me.”
