The Accidental Archmage - Book Five Edmund Batara (classic children's novels .TXT) 📖

“STUPID!” he shouted. As the word came out, the mage could see the transparent form of the energy accompanying it. The massive force slammed into the leader and his men, breaking wooden shields and flinging men a considerable distance away. Some flying bodies even reached and slammed into the inner earthworks. Clouds of dust covered the area. The sound of moaning and the cries of the injured came to the fore. The mage walked forward through broken armor and spears lying on the ground. The air cleared as Tyler advanced. Directly in front of him was the leader. The man was still conscious, though clearly suffering a broken leg. Seeing him, the warrior drew his sword.

The mage said nothing. Instead, using the levitation spell, he raised the warrior twenty feet up in the air, then released his hold on the conjuration. Then Tyler turned back to the keep, not waiting for the warrior to reach the ground. A loud crash sounded behind him. As he neared the keep, he saw the jarl, the two dwarven chieftains, and his companions waiting for him. The ruler of Hedmark was wearing a wry smile.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side early in the morning,” commented the jarl.

“I almost didn’t get any sleep preparing for the inevitable onslaught. My body hurts like hell, and a bad headache said good morning to me. And I am not even referring to these clowns,” replied Tyler crossly.

“But I am deeply thankful you decided to stay and fight with us,” replied the jarl. “After the events of last night, your mere presence encourages the men. Hirdburg is far from here, and I doubt if our plight has gained the High King’s sympathy.”

“Well, High Mage, that was a good laugh with which to grace one’s morning,” said Otr. “After Hedmark, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to visit our kingdom. There is a part of our realm no mortal could enter. It’s a dark place, but rich in what we seek. Normally, we wouldn’t worry and leave it be, but our watchers have reported that the area is growing. About 500 feet a year. We fear the longer we wait and the greater its area, whatever lived in that noisome place becomes stronger. If you have the time, of course.”

“Don’t say anything, High Mage!” exclaimed Dvalin. “Let me negotiate terms for you. The dvergar are tricky.”

“And I suppose your kind isn’t?” replied Otr with a snort.

Any further acrimonious business discussion was suddenly interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a ball of glowing light a few feet away. As the orb spun through the air toward Tyler, it left an incandescent stream of sparks in the air, visible even in the bright morning sun. It stopped in front of the mage.

“Lord First Mage. I am the Valkyrie Gunnhildr. The god Freyr bid me to inform you that the army in the Barrens is now pursuing them in the direction of Ymir’s Domain. However, the army near Hedmark has started moving toward the town.”

Then the glowing sphere disappeared. Tyler waited for the stupefied jarl and the two dwarves to recover. Dvalin was the first to speak.

“First Mage? A Valkyrie messenger? The God Freyr?” Luckily, the questions were spoken in a low, almost reverential tone, limiting the people who heard them only to those gathered around the mage.

“I trust you will keep what you witnessed to yourselves,” requested the mage. Then Tyler glanced back at the scattered and injured warriors of the High King’s warband and looked at the jarl.

“Kindly see them on their way back. Tell the High King he doesn’t want me angry, and I am halfway there.”

The jarl meaningfully looked at where the leader of the company fell to the ground.

“If he’s dead, the world is one less doltish warrior. If alive, then let that be a lesson in humility,” said Tyler, not even glancing where the jarl stared.

Chapter Twenty-Five

A Strange War

Then Sif came forward and poured mead for Loki in a crystal cup, and said:

53. “Hail to thee, Loki, | and take thou here

The crystal cup of old mead;

For me at least, | alone of the gods,

Blameless thou knowest to be.”

He took the horn, and drank therefrom:

54. “Alone thou wert | if truly thou wouldst

All men so shyly shun;

But one do I know | full well, methinks,

Who had thee from Hlorrithi’s arms,–

(Loki the crafty in lies.)”

Beyla spake:

55. “The mountains shake, | and surely I think

From his home comes Hlorrithi now;

He will silence the man | who is slandering here

Together both gods and men.”

Loki spake:

56. “Be silent, Beyla! | thou art Byggvir’s wife,

And deep art thou steeped in sin;

A greater shame | to the gods came ne’er,

Befouled thou art with thy filth.”

Morning tantrum over, the mage went back inside the keep, determined to grab some sleep. Meeting Aage, he requested food be brought to his room. As Tyler walked back with Kobu following, he was surprised at the way people along the corridors reacted to seeing him. Those who couldn’t avoid him hurriedly pressed themselves against the walls, others who saw him coming ran away, and some quickly ducked into open rooms along the hallway. The mage stopped and asked Kobu about the strange, though comical, scene unfolding along the corridor. That was when the man told him about his stormy exit from the keep.

Mystified, Tyler continued and took the time to ask his guides.

“You heard? What’s with the gray aura with red streaks?” he inquired.

“You’re nearly an Adept, sire. An Elder Mage-Adept. At that level, your negative emotions start to manifest themselves unless you keep them in check. The phenomenon does occur at times at lower ranks, but at the adept level, they become a regular occurrence,” Hal explained hurriedly. “It must have happened after the conversion exercises.”

“Exercises. You make it sound like a morning walk, Hal.”

“Oh. You’d rather hear the alternative?” smugly replied the guide.

“On second thought, let’s