Into the Fray: Volume 1 of The Sorcerers of Jhanvia Series Read online

  INTO THE FRAY is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  INTO THE FRAY. Copyright © 2013 by Aderyn Lonigan. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Aderyn Lonigan at P.O. Box 10103, Bedford, New Hampshire 03110.

  Cover art copyright © 2013 Howard David Johnson All rights reserved

  www.howarddavidjohnson.com

  Copyright © 2013 Aderyn Lonigan

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1490932585

  ISBN 13: 9781490932583

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-63003-962-2

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013913206

  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, North Charleston, SC

  Please visit my website at aderynlonigan.com

  I would like to thank those who read and critiqued my work along the way, including Bill, Apryl, Maureen, Linda and John. Their advice was greatly helpful and deeply appreciated. I am solely responsible for any errors and inadequacies that may exist.

  This book is for William Golden.

  His friendship was resolute in the best and worst of times.

  My love for him is transcendent.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  streamer of incense slowly made its way upward from a shallow metal pot on the floor of the small chamber, its gentle musky fragrance caressing the wax stalactites that clung to the black iron metalwork above. Suddenly it began dancing wildly between two large white candles before being captured and swallowed up by just the slightest breath of the cool evening breeze.

  The bottoms of the wispy high clouds that floated over the distant jagged mountain peaks made purple by the waning starlight reflected the last vestiges of the day in a bright amber glow that passed through the half-opened, makeshift wooden balcony doors, softly illuminating the austere furnishings of a rustic straw bed and a few old blankets. A scattering of small, well-worn rugs added splashes of color to the cold, dark stone floor.

  At the end of one of the rugs, a woman of twenty years sat motionless on a round leather hassock, her wide gray eyes intently transfixed on the distant horizon. A dark green woolen robe laid over her slender five-foot, eight-inch frame like a small tent, draping around her on the floor. Her thick, black hair stopped two-thirds of the way down her back, trimmed neatly in a horizontal line. Her delicate oval-shaped face, with the softest, most feminine cheeks, occasionally twitched, faintly hinting of the world that dominated her mind’s eye—a world of vivid, yet disjointed images that jumped uncontrollably from one to the next.

  Through the smoke she could see soldiers wearing red, medieval-style tunics attacking defenseless villagers with swords, bows and crossbows… A small boy in tattered, blood-stained peasant clothing ran up to her, pulling on her arm. “Please help us, they killed my father,” he frantically begged. She pulled him to her and ducked to the right as arrows just missed them. She shouted over the commotion, telling him to run into the woods… She looked to her left to see other villagers hiding behind an old wooden cart. She shouted at them to run, run as fast they could into the surrounding forest… She felt a gentle nudge on her leg and realized the boy was still with her. She dropped to one knee, grabbed him by the shoulders and ordered him to run. He nodded his understanding just as two arrows hit him from behind, pushing his limp body into her arms. She looked down to see his blood all over her hands… A soldier was coming at her. She grabbed her bow and fired an arrow that found the soldiers chest… A line of dark, black clouds that stretched across the sky quietly and swiftly approached… Bodies of dead or dying villagers lie strewn about as soldiers on horseback, armed with torches, set the remaining huts ablaze… She grabbed another arrow, and with the fluid skill of an expert, killed the next soldier she saw… A soldier came up from behind and knocked her bow from her hands, and as she turned toward him, he hit her in the face, and then all went dark… A momentary pause, and then through groggy eyes she awoke to find her arms chained to a stone wall above her head in a darkened room. A fire was burning vigorously in a stone circle, men in hoods chanting as they processed around it. She could see two figures talking near the fire. “Will she be pliant?” asked the man in the red cloak. “Yes, my lord.” was the response… Suddenly the man in the red cloak was standing face to face with her, his face and voice distorted and unrecognizable. “So you thought to defy me? No matter. You will now become my servant, empowering me to destroy all you hold so dear,” he announced as he pulled back on her hair and forced a liquid down her throat… Later, she walked along a castle hall wearing a black, ornately embroidered woolen dress. Others in dark robes walked behind her… In a large room, the man in the red cloak was standing before many who had gathered, holding the hand of a woman dressed in a grand white gown… Later in a bedroom, that same woman was giving birth to a baby boy… She saw snippets of images, one quickly followed by another, of people dying and suffering, of fire and destruction, flashes of the evil within her that had caused unspeakable pain and suffering to so many… Her heart collapsed as she realized the harm her actions had brought to those she loves… She was held fast by two soldiers, one on each arm, as the man in the red cloak stood before her. He announced so matter-of-factly, “Over these many years, my dear, you have served me well, but, I no longer require your talents.” She begged him, “My lord...no.” And with that, he thrust a sword through her chest.

  Her eyelids blinked wildly, and as she came out of her trance, she screamed, “No!!” Her eyes were now wide with fear. The energy she released in that moment extinguished the candles and thrust open the balcony doors with such force that one of them shattered into pieces when it slammed into the exterior of the stone wall. She closed her eyes and took in several deep breaths, trying to reclaim the air that was sucked from her lungs, keeping herself upright with an outstretched arm firmly planted on the floor. Within her mind, she imaged the chaotic energies leaving her spirit. It was several moments before a sense of calm returned.

  “Cacnir,” she quietly cursed out loud to herself in her native tongue as she stood. “What was that?”

  She went to the balcony and picked up a few of the remnants of the door hoping for some possibility that it could be salvaged, but it was far beyond repair. She half-smiled sardonically and shook her head, frustrated over her continuing failure to control her emotions. She came back into the room and waved her hand deliberately over the candles, her magics immediately bringing them back to life. Unexpectedly, a strong presence raked her ethereal senses. She looked up to see the silhouetted form of her temple master standing in the doorway.

  “May I enter?” The elder’s deep, powerful voice seemed tempered.

  “You need never ask, Nashil Kulon. You are always welcome. Please sit,” the young woman motioned toward her hassock. “Would you like something to drink?”

  The elder woman’s hand signaled both her rejection
of the offer and a request for her young apprentice to sit before her. There was a short contemplative pause before the Nashil began to speak. The young woman marveled at this elder in the deep blue cloak who had so deeply influenced her life. Her floor-length woolen dress was dark green with hints of red and purple, tied off at the waist with a thin black leather belt with silver ring ties. She was of average height, and over the years a bit of pudginess had settled on her hips. Her long gray hair accentuated her girlishly rounded face, which in the candlelight was only now beginning to show the effects of aging. For as long as the young one had been in the temple, she had never heard of anyone guessing within the low side of forty years of the wise woman’s actual age.

  Feeling a chill in the air, the elder pulled her cloak around her tighter and asked, “Have you heard from your family lately?”

  “No. My mother hasn’t sent a messenger in over seven months.”

  The Nashil acknowledged by nodding her head and suggested, “Maybe you should reach out to them.”

  “Their world is foreign to me. There is no place for me there.”

  “Yes, that is true, but it might be time to reconsider….”

  The young one tersely interrupted, “We’ve had this discussion before. Where are you going with this?”

  The Nashil smiled and paused to let the moment calm, and then she said, “The well of those we encounter that truly bring meaning and significance to our life is a shallow one. If you can count on more than one hand the people that had lasting influence on you, then you are fortunate. Irrespective of your station within their realm, I sense that you carry a great deal of your father’s influence, and he is well known for his firm, yet adaptable nature.”

  The young one scoffed, “Except when it comes to his daughters.”

  Kulon laughed a little and said, “I understand.” She paused for a few moments and then continued, “The hunter from Jasedic that delivered food the other day told me that your sister has been appointed to lead your father’s army.”

  She perked up, her eyes betraying her surprise, “Really? That’s unexpected.”

  “Time and experience change people…soften their rigidities. Even yours,” Kulon said with a knowing smile. “I think if you give them a chance, you might find that their love for you transcends their sense of duty.”

  The young one sat quietly pondering her words. She had discovered over the years that it was always wise to rely on the elder’s insight.

  The Nashil continued, “Just something to consider.” She shifted a bit to a more comfortable position as she changed the direction of her discussion. “You know, when word first came that you desired to join us many seasons ago, I must admit that I had significant reservations about accepting you. It is nearly unheard of for a member of a royal house, especially the House of Dhoya, to commit to the rigors of becoming a true mage. You were young and brash, with a lot of royal baggage, but you came with eyes wide open to a world that exists beyond the mundane. Your talents and abilities are without doubt quite extraordinary and I believe that this is your true calling.”

  A quiet smile of modesty graced the lips of the young woman.

  The Nashil continued, “You came to us known as Princess Kaitra of Dhoya. Those of our family will now know you as Kaitra, daughter of the House of Three Moons.” She took from her pocket a pendant that hung on a strap of black leather and handed it to her. Larger disks, one of brass and the other silver, were placed over a smaller silver disk, representing the three moons that circled above. She said, “May the Old Ones keep you. Wear it well, dear child.”

  The young woman was taken completely by surprise. She cradled the pendant in her hands, and then impulsively hugged her mentor, catching the master off guard and forcing a pleasantly startled smile to her face. “Thank you, Nashil Kulon. My body shakes with excitement and words...well…they have deserted me.”

  “You are very welcome, my dear.”

  Kaitra fondled the pendant in the short silence that followed as her mentor gathered her thoughts.

  Kulon observed through a soft, sarcastic smile, “I see from the remnants of the door strewn across your balcony that you meditated tonight.”

  “Yes, as every night,” Kaitra answered in serious tone, much embarrassed by her obvious lack of control.

  “Good. Tell me what you saw.”

  “Horrible images. Death and destruction were everywhere. Soldiers, disciplined and organized, were killing everyone indiscriminately. They were well trained, and it felt as if they fought with a single purpose.”

  Kaitra closed her eyes in an effort to better focus her mind, unaware that her recall was being enhanced by the elder woman’s magics. She described that which her mind revealed, “A great sense of chaos—of wanton murder and violence. A boy…I tried to help him, but they killed him. His blood is all over my hands. I sense a powerful energy that supports it, unseen, but very pervasive, like a dark cloud spreading over the land. There is smoke and fire…and pain.... I have been captured by them and taken to a dark place. A leader presents, finely dressed…he is surrounded by sorcery. He forces me to do things…evil things. Although I try with all my being, I am unable to resist his influence. Everyone I care for is in pain or dead. Finally, I’m able to break the magic and I try to escape, but he….”

  She took a deep breath but did not come out of her trance.

  “Continue child,” Kulon softly prodded.

  “He kills me,” she emphatically announces.

  “Go on,” the Nashil encouraged.

  “Now all is quiet. A sword lies atop a woman lying in the grass. She is covered by a fine white cloth. She is dead. There is peace. The chaos has subsided and order has been restored.”

  The young mage sprang from her trance with eyes wide. She looked up to see the elder deep in thought with her eyes closed, her fingers rubbing her forehead with purpose. She asked, “What is it I see, Nashil?”

  “I have been seeing similar things for some time now. The time has come when those bent on destruction will combine and thrive off fear and weakness. They have amassed a significant force and they pose a great threat to all the peoples west of the Kirlapian Mountains. There’ll likely be a time in the very near future when even we will be tested. These are the things you see.”

  “What must we do to stop them?”

  “I do not believe that is our destiny.”

  “Then what is to be done?”

  Kulon smiled knowingly, “The wheel continues to turn, young one. We are to remain here and continue our work as before. You, however, have come to a crossroads. I believe it is time you left us and pursued your own path.”

  Kaitra’s eyes projected her pain in hearing those words, “Leave... but I....”

  The Nashil placed the first two fingers of her right hand gently across the lips of the confused young woman and explained, “Your destiny no longer lies in this place. You carry a talent that demands a certain level of guidance to bring it to the fore. This I have provided to you. Now it is time you take yourself into the world. It will develop and nurture your abilities, providing the knowledge and wisdom you will need to deal with the complex diversity of challenges that life brings.”

  The master looked into the anxious, reddening eyes that returned an anticipated forlorn silence, and she continued, “You fear that which lies before you. I know.” A reminiscent smile broke the air between them. “There was a time, longer ago than I wish to admit, when I felt as you do now. Nashil Netres, may blessings be upon his memory, came to me one evening to give me a choice of whether to leave and pursue my own destiny, or to stay and assist him in his work. It was the most difficult decision I had ever faced. It was so important to me that his teachings continue, but I realized that as an individual, I would never progress to my fullest potential if I stayed. So, after much internal deliberation, I chose to leave.”

  The old woman paused briefly, and then spoke with wry amusement, “The bastard had known all along what my decision woul
d be. He said that if I had chosen to remain, he would have thrown me out anyway.”

  The briefest hint of a laugh popped out from the lips of the sad young face.

  The Nashil continued more seriously. “He wanted to see if I had the courage to take my talents to their limits. To my credit, I had the foresight to see my potential.” The wise woman took Kaitra’s hands. “And so it will be with you. The strength within your heart will see you through the difficult times. The power of your sorcery will protect you.”

  The elder rose with the difficulty one expects to accompany her age and continued, “I want you to leave immediately. I have spoken with Cliona of Alondra. The people of her village will provide you with traveling clothes and supplies. They will put you up for a few days while you prepare.”

  “I wish to say goodbye to Misha and Tolon.”

  The old woman said in a serious tone, “Please do as I ask and leave now. I will express your sentiments to them.” She opened the door and stepped across the threshold.

  The young one begged, “Where will I go?”

  The old woman turned back to her and smiled. “Listen to your spirit. It will guide you to the people and places that will fulfill your destiny. Hold us in your heart, dear child.”

  Kaitra smiled half-heartedly to herself as she watched her away. She closed the door quietly and then stopped for a moment to gaze with fondness at this tiny chamber she had called home for so long. It was part of an ancient grand chateau that was formerly the home of a local ruling vizier of the Old Order. While much of the original structure had remained intact, a large portion of the inner court and the east wing had been in ruins for over a millennium, and had been restored to habitability only recently. The feel of the architecture was very ancient and mysterious, with large irregular stones carved with laser-like precision, placed together without any binding material, and with such care that not even a breath of air could pass between. It evoked a sense of order and civilization not known in this region for centuries.