A Dragon Rises: Magician & Thief

By Dale R. Boyd

Renny’s life had been pretty tough so far. First an orphan, then a runaway, and finally an experienced cutpurse by her fifteenth year, one day she finds herself being framed for a crime she didn’t commit. Saved by a stranger, an old sorcerer named Sooliman Arkane, they begin as unlikely a companionship as was ever forged. After four years together, Renny has become the family Sooliman never had, and he fills the void in her heart left by the family she lost. Sooliman wants her to become his magician’s apprentice, but Renny likes her “career” as a thief and burglar. Until one night she steals the wrong thing from a certain rich and powerful merchant. Before she knows what she has done, the little thief sets off a chain of events that changes her life forever. And if that wasn't enough, Sooliman’s old friend, the northern mercenary, Tulag Gor, has arrived in Borggat looking for him. The news he bears not only turns all their lives upside down, but threatens to shake the foundations of every kingdom and realm in the West and beyond.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dale R. Boyd
• Release date: Oct 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310872921

Dale R. Boyd

Dale R. Boyd was born in southern California in the late 1950's. By the time he was ten, he had found a true love of all things fantasy and science fiction, books and comics in particular. Beginning with Robert E. Howard's tales about Conan the Barbarian and Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, he read just about every book his parents would buy him or he could borrow. From his early teens on, he created his own characters, lands and plots, filing them away for some promised future date he would actually write the stories down. As he got older he took the traditional route of what most would call a normal career in the corporate world, but never gave up his love of reading nor the creation of his own little worlds. In large part due to the encouragement of a dear and close friend, he finally sat down and began to write. "A Dragon Rises: Mercenary" is his first published work of fiction, the first of a series of stories.

Book preview

Forward

When I first started to write the A Dragon Rises series, my intent was to begin with a couple of novellas that would introduce some of the primary characters, and begin to lay the foundation for the larger overall story. ADR: Mercenary allowed me to introduce Tulag Gor, the big, brash, ale-loving mercenary commander from Fhrolheim. The second book, ADR: Gladiator, introduced Titus, a gladiator who started life as a poor farmer’s son, and then found himself shackled and collared as a slave for the next twenty years. I purposely wrote these two stories so that it really doesn’t matter which one is read first, but that all changes with the third book, ADR: Magician & Thief. This third novel, which is substantially longer than the first two novellas, picks up where ADR: Gladiator ends. Besides introducing two new main characters, it begins to unveil the greater story arc of the series in a very major way. For that reason, I humbly suggest that for those who feel they might like to delve into the world of the West, the Amber Sea, the Dragon and the Luyrian Empire, they read ADR: Gladiator and ADR: Mercenary before ADR: Magician & Thief.

The fourth novel in the series, A Dragon Rises: Half-Blood Queen, is underway. For those who have read the first books in the series, I sincerely hope you enjoyed them, and I thank you.

Chapter 1

Renny clung to the side of the wall in the darkness, her fingers seeking what tiny handholds she could find in the roughhewn stone. Her calves were beginning to cramp from bracing herself so long on just her toes. Even in the coolness of the night air, little rivulets of sweat born of both exertion and fear ran annoyingly down her temples and under the collar of her leather jerkin. She was becoming less than pleased, which for her was a fairly common state of being these days.

The young thief was beginning to think perhaps she had bitten off more than she could arguably chew. Here she was, almost three stories above the hard cobbles of the narrow side street below, and yet she still had another fifteen feet to ascend before she got to the small window that was supposed to have been left unlocked.

She paid a most handsome bribe (at least it seemed so to her) to one of the estate’s servants to make sure this particular window would be left unlatched. Being where it was, so high up and around the side of a little-used wing of the rambling mansion, it was a better than fair bet no one would check to make sure it was secure before the oil lamps and candles were extinguished for the night. It was her plan and hope the home’s occupants would be off to the comfort of their soft, down-filled beds long before she made her appearance. But now that she was high enough any fall would likely crack her skull like an egg, or at the very least break a good many bones, doubt was beginning to worm its way into her mind. If she got to the window and found her partner-in-crime had lost his nerve or double-crossed her, there was no way in seven hells she would be able to retrace her path back to the street. She would be stuck. Her choices, both bad ones, would be to either break the window’s glass pane, or try and find some other route along the wall leading to a safer way down. The first would risk her discovery, arrest and introduction to a cell; the second, likely leave her grievously injured or worse.

Distracted by this last worrisome thought, the soft leather sole of her right boot suddenly lost its purchase on the wall. The foot skittered downward, leaving her leg dangling out over the thirty-foot drop. The sudden tug of gravity galvanized Renny as a panicked surge of adrenaline shot through her. She hugged her slim body tight against the stone, her small hands gripping the nooks and crannies with an almost maniacal strength. The rope she had coiled over one shoulder pressed uncomfortably into her chest. She frantically brought her shoe back to the wall, toes searching for some crevice or knob to bear her weight. She was gasping for air now, but knew she must control herself, both mind and body. After what seemed like an eternity, the tip of her right foot found a small crack where two blocks were poorly joined. She sighed heavily, relief coursing through her. She stayed very still for a moment, letting her mind recite the calming mantra Sooliman taught her as a way to focus her thoughts.

She was beginning to regret she had not listened to the old sorcerer’s words. He warned tonight’s little proposed pilfering would be too dangerous for her. And as usual, she ignored the mage’s advice. But who could blame her in this case? It had been the most favorable kind of fate that led her to meet Oilun, the servant to whom she ultimately slipped a very large and very hard to come by gold Talarian sovereign. It was his job to make sure the window’s latch would be left unsecured. She also promised him something far more personal as a reward, but that particular payment would never be made.

They had first crossed gazes in the dim, smoky main room of a tavern two nights back. He was a not unhandsome lad, perhaps only a year or two older than she. Tall and thin, he had a shy smile and the large, soulful eyes of a minstrel, a look she favored. For her part, Renny caught Oilun’s eager attention as well. Standing no more than two fingers’ width above five feet, she was just a touch too big to be called truly petite, a word she loathed anyway. Lithe, with a firm body hardened by an equally hard life, she was almost boyish in her looks were it not for the way her slender waist gave way to the slight curve of a young woman’s hips. She wore her medium length hair in a perpetual ponytail, its mix of auburn and brown tresses the perfect frame to the fairness of her skin. Older than she looked, Renny had fine, high-set cheekbones and a small nub of a nose sporting a band of freckles across its bridge. Yet, more than anything else, it was her eyes which drew Oilun’s notice. Large and slightly wide-set, they were the rarest of green, being a true emerald hue seldom seen in the West or East, and common only among the Assissi of the Amber Sea.

Just as striking as the color, so also was the degree of intelligence lying within their depths. Renny was a bright lass, sometimes overly so, and her wit and sense of things keen beyond her years. It was these less obvious attributes which led Sooliman Arkane to eventually embrace the seemingly Fate-driven compulsion to take the young thief under his wing.

Oilun stared furtively at her half the night before summoning the courage to approach her. Already into his cups, it did not taken long for Renny to discover Oilun worked for none other than Fane Arewith, one of the richest and most influential merchants in all of Borggat. It was said Master Arewith’s estate almost rivaled that of the king’s in its size and magnificence. Upon discovering the identity of Oilun’s employer, it took Renny less time than what was needed to bat her eyelashes at the young man for her to begin to devise a scheme. She began to lay the bait that very night, but would not try and spring the trap until the following evening. Let the amorous and slightly drunk Oilun sleep on the thought of what he imagined Renny might look like bereft of her clothes.

Before that first encounter was through, the two made plans to meet the following night at the same tavern.

When they met on the second evening, Renny turned up her charm, playing off the obvious interest Oilun expressed towards her. As the hours wore on and the amount of wine consumed became substantial, the young man began to let his eyes drift freely over Renny’s body as she strategically leaned back in her chair. She had chosen a tight-fitting pair of dark leather pants and an equally tight shirt of cream-colored cotton. The latter’s procurement nearly cost her freedom, but the effect it was having on the smitten servant of Master Arewith was exactly why she stole it in the first place. One of the few useful things her old mentor taught her when she was first learning how to steal was a good thief used whatever tools she had at her disposal.

Renny began to turn the conversation towards the topic of Oilun’s employer.

Keeping her chair tilted back, and thus providing Oilun the best possible view of her lithe form, the wily girl nonchalantly raised one leg, resting her boot on the edge of the table. By the involuntary flaring of the young man’s nostrils, she saw the move had the desired effect.

So, Oilun, love, tell me about life working for one of the richest and most powerful men in all of Borggat, she asked, her tone light.

Oilun’s mouth turned down at the corners as he shrugged. Not much to tell, really. Master Arewith is like most of the rich merchants in Borggat: fat, arrogant, and a lover of aged wine and young women.

As he said this last piece, his eyes traveled down the inside of her propped up thigh. He blinked slowly a few times. The wine, the thick air of the tavern’s room and his own growing lust caused him to sway ever so lightly in his chair. Renny smiled to herself. Oh yes, if ever a plum was ripe for the picking, her would-be lover was such a one. She was also very happy to hear from his words he appeared to harbor no great admiration for his employer; hence, probably little loyalty as well.

I imagine his home is very beautiful, she said, making it more a statement than question.

Yes, he replied, already bored with the tract the conversation was taking, it’s filled with the usual things the rich collect around themselves. Paintings, statuary, well-crafted furniture, fine tapestries and weavings. All scattered about. And always in need of dusting and cleaning. Which thankfully is not part of my duties.

It must make you envious at times to be surrounded by all that wealth, she said off-handedly, as if making a little joke. This was the crux of the night. How he responded would tell her if she had wasted two nights plowing a field that would yield her nothing of value.

Oilun grew quiet a moment, his face becoming more serious.

Aye, he said softly. There are times I look around in all the many rooms of his great home and wonder if he would miss half of what they held should it all simply disappear. He said this with a small smile on his lips, as if making a jest, but Renny could see from the look in his eyes Master Arewith’s wealth in all of its many manifestations was something Oilun thought hard upon on more than one occasion. Her trap was now fully baited and her prey was happily putting his own neck in the snare.

She gave Oilun a seductive smile as she said, I know I shouldn’t ask this, but have you ever been tempted to help yourself to some of these items lying about, wondering whether they would indeed be missed or not? As she spoke, she gently swayed her leg back and forth, like a child idly waving her foot. But she was no child, and the movement quickly recaptured the attention, and apparently the imagination, of Oilun. He leaned a bit forward, as if to speak conspiratorially, but Renny knew it was to get a closer view of her.

Aye, I would be lying if I said I had not, but it’s too dangerous, he said, his voice lower, as if he was afraid of being overheard.

Renny’s smile lost none of its seductiveness, but took on a feral aspect not there before.

Well, sweet Oilun, I have a thought or two about that... she said, leaning forward herself, closing the distance between them. She let her voice trail off mysteriously.

Oilun swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He caught her scent as she drew close. She smelled of lilac-scented soap and sweet spice. His heart thudded in his chest as his pulse quickened. Without knowing he did so, he licked his lips. It took all of Renny’s restraint not to chuckle at the poor boy.

Tell me, he said, his voice husky.

The snare was now pulled tight. She had her catch.

***

They stayed talking for another hour, Renny proposing her plan and asking many questions. Several times the young thief could see Oilun’s resolve threatening to melt away, but a few light touches on his arm and once on his leg kept him with her. Near the end, when she spelled out the details of what would happen the following night and what his role in all of it would be, he wavered to the point where she thought she lost him, but she salvaged the moment with her customary quick wit.

First, she surreptitiously slipped out a large, golden Talarian sovereign from a pouch secreted within the waistband of her pants. The motion caught Olin’s eyes, which went wide when he saw the unmistakable gleam of gold. He looked up at her, clearly confused.

Take it, she said, for your troubles and the risk you take.

He looked from her face to the coin and back again several times. Renny was becoming nervous someone would take notice of their little discussion.

Take it! she said more forcefully, making sure to keep her voice low.

Almost as if commanded against his will, he quickly reached under the table and grabbed the coin, but before he could pull his hand back, she closed her slender fingers on his wrist in a shockingly strong grip.

Surprised, he looked into her face, now only a foot from his own. Her lips were moist and slightly parted. Her incredible eyes seemed unnaturally big this close, as if he could fall into them if he were just to allow himself to slide forward. In a voice gone smoky with hidden promise, she whispered, Meet me back here two nights hence. The rooms are reasonable and we can celebrate my success together. Just the two of us.

Oilun’s eyes blazed. He nodded, not sure if he trusted his own voice at that moment or not.

Two nights hence, he managed to croak out. Us, together.

Yes, my sweet, she replied, together. Now, don’t forget that lock, or all our plans will be for naught.

***

On her way back to her quarters a little while later, Renny’s step was light as she went over the last few hours.

Poor Oilun. He was a man, through and through. A little prodding to his ego, his greed, and a whole lot of stoking the flames of his male desires and he became a willing and necessary accomplice. He was a most important element to her plan of relieving the good merchant Fane Arewith of some of his underappreciated wealth.

She would, of course, find a suitable reason why she could not meet with Oilun two nights from now. It wasn’t she didn’t find him attractive; she most avidly did. It was simply she never mixed business with pleasure. While Renny was certainly no virgin, she was also not a trollop. And while she would give herself to a man of her choosing should he garner her interest to a sufficient degree, she would not sell her body for her work. It was Oilun’s misfortune he now fell into the latter category. Not that he couldn’t purchase the favors of a most willing whore or three with that gold sovereign. The thought of the coin made her wince. It was more than half of all the money she had, and it pained her no small amount to risk it in such a manner.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought.

Although she knew he would disapprove, Renny felt she had no choice but to tell Sooliman her plan when she got back to the small set of rooms they shared.

She was correct in her assessment as to the mage’s opinion of it.

Chapter 2

Sooliman Arkane scowled at the young woman standing defiantly before him, balled fists on her hips, a look to match his own darkening her face.

I know the risks, Sooliman! she said defensively for the fifth time in the last half hour. I have my plan, and it’s a good one. I’ll be in and out of Master Arewith’s house hours before anyone even knows they have been burgled. I won’t get caught.

The old sorcerer made a rude noise which very accurately gave voice to what he thought about her plan. He knew Renny well, and the sum of the details of her brilliant and foolproof plan would be to sneak into the mansion, take whatever she could quickly find and easily carry, then slink away before someone might spy her. More specific details as to contingencies, back up scenarios and the like would not be part and parcel of her grand scheme. They never were. The girl had an almost blind faith in her abilities and continuing good fortune. What the little thief wouldn’t accept was she was not the only one with abilities, and that fortune was as fickle as any painted harlot plying her services on the Avenue of Dreams.

Renny, he said, trying hard to keep his voice from rising but losing the battle, Master Arewith isn’t some half-drunk caravanner just arrived in town and ripe for the pinching, nor is he likely a fool who trusts the welfare of his household to simple locks and the belief in humanity’s innate goodness!

Arkane stood up, absently wincing at the now familiar twinge in his left knee, an occasional pain having just announced itself these past few months.

Fane is a very rich, very powerful merchant, he said, his tone more controlled. He has the money and the good sense to employ more than simple house guards to protect the sanctity of his estate. He very well may have warding spells in place. Oh, nothing lethal I would suspect, but the type of spell to give warning should anyone try and enter his home without permission.

Renny began to pace at hearing this. She thought about possible guards when she first began to plan her late night visit and asked Oilun about them during their second meeting. The merchant’s servant said there were indeed guards, but only four. Two stood watch near the imposing front gate of the estate, and two more patrolled the spacious gardens and patios in the rear. But she had not considered any warning spells.

Her discomfort at this possibility was plainly evident to the mage. He closed his eyes briefly, concern for her welfare and safety gripping his heart. He opened his eyes, some small degree of longstanding sadness tinting their surface like an indefinable color.

I wish you would give up this life of skulking about at wee hours, Renny, relieving others of that which rightfully belongs to them, and allow me to train you as my apprentice.

Renny snorted angrily, more out of knowing she overlooked a potentially vital element in her planning than from any true ire towards Sooliman. To those who did not know him, he appeared as nothing more than some innocuous old man, his faced lined by the years and only a fringe of grey hair left encircling his otherwise bald pate. But Renny knew better. Although kind and warm by nature, on rare occasions she had seen the mage reveal a temper and inner power few who earned his wrath would soon forget.

Sooliman, we have been over this a hundred times, she said in a voice somewhere between exasperation and pleading. I am no witch or sorceress, I will never be one, and I have no desire to try. I am a thief. A good one at that. It is the life I have chosen. Why can’t you just accept that?

Arkane said nothing, just looked down at the small girl who was in truth no longer a girl at all, but had somehow become a young woman right under his nose. For a man who prided himself on his acute perception of the world around him, he certainly had missed this little miracle of metamorphosis over the past few years.

Continuing his silence, the mage turned and walked over to a small wooden trunk sitting on the floor near the head of his bed. As he bent down, he waved his hand over the heavy lock set into the iron-bound lid. Passing his palm over the trunk, he muttered a few strange sounding words Renny could not make out. With a little click and a soft metallic pop, the lock mechanism disengaged and the lid sprung upward a fraction. Arkane lifted it all the way open and began to rummage around inside, pawing through the contents of the travel trunk. The interior was near to full with an odd assortment of all manner of items. Reaching under what looked to be a folded hat made of brushed felt, his hand found a small, circular shape attached to a fine length of chain. Here you are, he said to himself, pulling the object out.

He turned back to Renny and held his open palm to her. In it lay a small bronze-colored amulet, its surface burnished to a dull gleam. A thin but finely wrought chain was looped through a small hole near one edge, a tiny clasp indicating the object was to be worn like a necklace.

Here, Renny, take this and place it about your neck, he said. It is a charm which will protect the wearer from such basic detection spells as Master Arewith might employ.

Renny looked at the amulet in surprise, then up to Arkane.

Truly? she asked, her voice holding a half note of disbelief. Not at the amulet’s stated abilities; she learned to never question Sooliman’s word on anything magical, but disbelief he would aid her in her thievery.

Yes, truly, he said, a sourness in his voice letting her know his real attitude about all this. If I can’t talk sense into that hard head of yours, at least I can try and keep it from being separated from your neck. This amulet would be of little use against a well-crafted spell designed to ward against you personally, but it should provide more than enough obscuring protection from the simple warding spells Fane Arewith may have commissioned.

Should provide? Renny asked, concerned.

In magic, Renny, as I have told you often, nothing is for certain. Still, it should aid well enough in keeping your presence hidden.

Thank you, Sooliman, she said, her honest appreciation at his offer softening her tone.

Just come back safe, Renny, was all the mage responded with.

***

Renny left their rooms not more than an hour prior. It was just after midnight, the hour she usually preferred to engage in her felonious trade.

Arkane shook his head in weary resignation over the intractability of his young…charge? Hopefully future apprentice? Surrogate granddaughter? There were no words to easily define their relationship. They were as unlikely a pair of companions as you could find. Yet companions they were, in both practical deed and their feelings for each other. Renny loved the old man like the father she barely remembered, or the grandfather she never knew, though she was reluctant to openly admit it. Such expressions of vulnerability were a poor fit for a girl who long ago donned the protective armor of hiding her true emotions.

And as for Sooliman’s feelings? There was no doubt he had come to see Renny as the family he would never have. He knew it was dangerous for him to feel this way towards her. It hampered his objectivity in a manner he could ill afford if he was to someday undertake training her in the magical arts, but he was too far along in his years and far too self-aware of his own heart’s need to deny it. He had been alone a very long time, a span of years which would shock even the little thief were she to know the truth of it.

Ah, Renny, you will be the death of us both, girl, the old mage thought, me from worry, you from an overly bold rashness and a feeling of immortality only the gods and the truly young possess.

The sorcerer closed his eyes, trying to get a sense of what risks or troubles the night might hold for the young burglar. As he repeated a series of phrases over and over, his mind expanded outward, first leaving the confines of his body, then the room in which he sat. His awareness flowed into the darkness outside. Arkane felt the familiar psychic energies buffeting his mind, ebbing and flowing around him like an all-encompassing tide. It was the music of life itself he found himself immersed in, the echoes and whispers of what some would call the spirits of the living inhabitants of Borggat, of Talaria, of all the West. Of the world itself.

He concentrated on the image of Renny, letting the familiar contours of her face fill his mind’s sight. He could see her as clearly as if she were standing before him. The mage stared hard into her eyes, letting his own gaze drift forward into them, through them, beyond them. Arkane was looking into a dark void, not utterly black, but near enough. What looked like gently swirling mists swam just beyond the periphery of his vision. He concentrated harder, now reciting one of the many mantras he learned during his travels in the East. As he did so, an image began to coalesce out of the smoky grey tendrils beginning to dance in front of him. He peered hard at the bourgeoning forms trying to show themselves, bringing all his considerable skills to bear, willing this scene of one of many possible futures to reveal itself. Then, without warning, the vision collapsed around him, and Arkane was suddenly back in his room, his eyes slowly opening.

The mage made a sound somewhere between disgust and disappointment. Old man, he thought with self-disdain, you never were adept at scrying. I should have spent more time with the Assissi wizards when I was young. They are the real masters at far seeing and glimpsing the possible future.

Truth was, attempting to see which of the innumerable possibilities the future held as it pertained to a particular individual was one of the hardest types of magic to perform. It was like trying to pluck out a specific handful of threads from a great tapestry and doing so with your eyes shut and no firm knowledge of what threads you sought. The old texts and tomes confirmed such was the case even before the Sundering, yet now it was doubly difficult with so much less magic in the world.

Child, be safe and try to do nothing too foolish this night, Arkane thought earnestly. Whatever Renny was about, she was truly on her own.

***

Renny completed the series of mental recitations she had learned. She began to feel some of the tension leave her aching muscles. With a deep breath to further relax body and mind, she resumed her climb, her focus now sharply fixed on the task at hand. Before long she reached the narrow ledge of the window’s sill. Reaching upwards, and holding her breath almost unconsciously as she did so, she pulled against the bottom rail. With a soft squeak of seldom-used hinges, the window opened outwards. Renny released her breath in a relieved gush. Oilun had come through.

Gripping the sill with both hands, Renny pulled herself up, making sure not to overbalance backwards. She squatted on the lower frame like some ridiculous pony-tailed raven as she peered into the room to which the window gave access. From its look it appeared to be a spare bedroom, unoccupied and unused.

Perfect.

Cautiously, she let her feet and legs drop down into the room, placing them gingerly on the wooden floor. As she did so, Renny felt the softest tingle pass over and through her. The young thief immediately froze, an icy grip of fear clutching at her breast. She had been with Sooliman long enough to recognize the presence of magic. The old sorcerer was right. Fane Arewith did have warding spells guarding his home.

There was nothing to be done for it now. All she could hope was the amulet Sooliman gave her would mask her presence. If not, she was trapped.

Renny waited in the darkness by the window, the air smelling faintly of dust and mildew. She looked about her and saw only an old four-poster bed with a canopy, a nightstand and a few paintings which looked unimpressive to her somewhat skilled eye. Over in the far corner a tall armoire stood, the silvered surface of the mirrored door milky in the faint light coming through the windowpane.

Several minutes passed, but no hue and cry were raised, no shouts of Intruder! echoing down the halls. It appeared the charm’s counter-spell was effective. Assuming she was still safely undetected, Renny raised the thin, coiled rope off her shoulder and tied one end to a small iron hook she retrieved from a leather pouch on her lower back.

Now, she thought, I need a suitable place to secure this hook.

She looked at the bed, a smile crossing her lips in the dark. The huge wooden frame must be several times her own weight. It would do nicely. She bent down and looped the hook around the frame, making sure the flared tip of its point was well-secured against the thick board. She gave it several experimental tugs, yanking hard each time. The massive thing barely shuddered. She went back to the window and coiled the rope neatly on the floor. Then she pulled the casement closed, leaving the latch unsecured. No sense risking one of the guards walking by beneath, looking up and seeing an open window.

Renny returned to the center of the room, taking a few moments to give it a more thorough inspection. Given it appeared to be long unused, she didn’t expect to find anything of real value, and she was correct. Satisfied in her search, the little thief went to the door and pressed her ear to the cool wood, trying to catch any noise from the other side. The thing was a good two inches thick and probably made of oak. She doubted she would have been able to hear a dancing troupe performing out in the hall, but still she strained to pick up any sound at all. Convinced the corridor beyond was empty, ever so slowly she eased the door open a few inches. Like a wary rabbit peeking out of its hole, Renny peered through the gap between door and frame, seeing only a short, dark hallway which seemed to end perhaps twenty feet