The Wizards War

By Selena McGrady

When young Titas awakens to find a stranger wandering into his home his world is turned into something akin to the grand stories his mother tells. Within days Titas finds himself battling for his life but he and his family are not the only ones in danger.
Far to the northwest an army encampment is ambushed. In the desperate struggle that ensues the fates of three soldiers and Titas are entwined in a great war for survival and freedom.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 19, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463439514

Selena McGrady

Selena McGrady was born in Southwest Virginia, and is the youngest of three children. An avid reader it was not long before she was writing her own stories and books. She allows the natural scenes of her home to influence her ideas of the settings of her stories.

Book preview

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1:

Stranger In Town

Chapter 2:

The Battle

Chapter 3:

Alone

Chapter 4:

Memories

Chapter 5:

Worien

Chapter 6:

Fortunes

Chapter 7:

tears and healing

Chapter 8:

conversations

Chapter 9:

the pain of war

Chapter 10:

the parting of ways

Chapter 11:

Flight

Chapter 12:

Pharu

Chapter 13:

we’re leaving

Chapter 14:

preparations

Chapter 15:

The Siege Of Tazmikara

Chapter 16:

The War’s End

Prologue

THOUSANDS OF EYES gleamed as they stared hungrily at the bright dots of light in the small valley before them. Saliva began to fill the snouts of the monstrous creatures surveying the army camp. One of the creatures turned to its commander, its small eyes focusing on the powerful features of the other beast. Topping two meters by a third it was a true giant. Its body was powerful with lean muscles that held it tall in the bipedal position. Its face was that of a boar’s with huge yellowing tusks that the monster had lovingly sharpened. As the underling stared at its superior it raised a single huge hand that was large enough to encase a human skull and started to stroke its own powerful jaw. The other hand rested upon the hilt of a broadsword.

Sir, whispered the minion hesitantly knowing well that the other was much stronger than he and more belligerent. The wizard says that now is the time to attack. The subordinate faltered when the Chief Borian turned its vile gaze upon him. He says that he should start to cloak us now lest the elves’ keen eyes detect us.

Have you found all of the scouts? asked the leader carelessly. The subordinate smiled at the thought of the scouts’ blood wetting his own sword.

The elves had thrown up a spider’s web of soldiers. With the wizard’s help we found them without difficulty. They didn’t even know we were there until they felt the sting of our knives. The Chief Borian paused in its caressing. The underling quickly understood that he was talking too much for the other’s liking.

Are we within range of the bows? The subordinate nodded quickly, not daring to speak another word so soon after the silent reprimand. Then when the wizard is finished playing his tricks tell the archers to fire at will. After three volleys I want the infantry to charge. The subordinate smiled a joyless smile. It was a smile of blood lust.

The Chief Borian smiled too as he watched two score of darkly garbed men rush about his soldiers tapping and whirling their wands. He smiled as he watched his army disappear from sight.

Elves, Men, and Dwarves clustered around several small fires, rubbing their hands briskly against the chill night. They spoke in whispers, laughing quietly at their own excitement to be heading home for a short while. They clapped each other on the back, congratulating themselves on surviving another yet another battle the day before. The elves were staring eagerly into the forest they had camped by. A silver haired elf exited the woods heading for a man and dwarf seated by their fire.

My friends in the forest say that all is well, said the elf settling himself beside the fire. He absently unbelted his sword and dirk and tossed it to the side. The scouts will be due back in an hour, am I right?

Aye, replied the dwarf sipping at a skin of whiskey. Our young human friend however believes some doom hangs over us. At his mention the dark haired man looked away guiltily. Embarrassed he ran a hand through his panther black hair.

What is it, Araden? asked the elf, concern flashing in his stormy eyes.

Just after battle jitters I suppose but I swear I feel like I’m being watched. The elf licked his lips and glanced around to reassure himself that his soldiers were safe. The man’s eyes darted warily about too searching for the invisible.

The Chief Borian swore angrily when he couldn’t see his lieutenant to issue orders. Finally he heard familiar footsteps approaching him. He lunged in their direction and caught his subordinate by the arm.

Tell the second brigade to flank them and move into the forest. Silently. We’re going to try to herd a few of those rats into them. The underling arranged his ugly face into an expression of puzzlement then remembered it couldn’t be seen.

Why? The Chief Borian gave the other a rough shake.

The Master wants some of them alive. Or would you like me to give him you for his amusement? The subordinate gasped in horror.

I’ll go with the second brigade! sputtered the minion without thinking. I’ll catch the finest warrior that comes our way! The Chief Borian nodded then chuckled to communicate his agreement.

Yes you will. Or else Ysurian will have his way with you. The Chief Borian laughed again. Now leave. I want to see blood by the dawn.

Is it possible that we are in danger? asked Araden when the air around the trio’s fire became palpable with fear. The elf glanced at the dwarf.

Dwarves see better than elves in the dark. Can we have overlooked something? The dwarf alone was comfortable. He had every confidence in his people.

I sent one of my soldiers with every one of yours. We are safe.

All the same, muttered the elf, I want you to get everyone ready for battle. No one sleeps this night. The dwarf groaned and the man tossed the elf an appreciative glance.

Charge, said the Chief Borian in a voice heard only by the closest creatures. They began to run in earnest down the hill. At once when the sound of the others’ hooves reached them all of the army began to sweep toward the elves’ and humans’ camp. Not even the dwarves would be able to recover from the surprise of this attack. The Borian threw his head back and savoured his victory even as the archers twanged off their first shots. He felt the ground vibrating with death and he resisted the urge to howl as the second and third volley of arrows followed the first and his Borians.

The soldiers looked to the sky in stunned horror as a shrill whine reached their ears. Looking up the stars seemed to shimmer then flick out entirely. The man, elf and dwarf watched as their companions screamed in pain as the were pierced by deadly black shafts. Others fell where they knelt and still others pulled the cruel barbs out and struggled to their feet.

The man rolled over quickly revealing an arrow where he had just lain. He looked to his friends in stupefied disbelief. We didn’t even have time to issue orders. The elf rolled to his feet and grabbed the dwarf’s shield.

Here, he grunted tossing the chunk of carefully crafted metal. He stumbled as an arrow grazed his cheek but he used the stumble to grab his weapons. Araden snatched up his own sword and focused skyward picking off arrows in a stunning display of swordsmanship. The dwarf hefted his axe and bellowed a warning a second before a Borian descended upon the elf.

The elf parried the strike with contemptuous ease. He stepped forward and struck at the Borian’s side but it was only a distraction and he smiled when the Borian parried the lazy blow. His dagger found its chin before it had even registered that the elf had used his momentum to give strength to the blow.

There was a clash of metal to the side and the elf glanced over to see that both of his friends were embroiled in a life or death struggle against three opponents each. Even as he saw this another two Borians rose against him. The elf hardly paid attention to his adversaries as he fought. He was too focused on the wash of enemies that had already engulfed most of the camp. The elf swept aside an axe and lashed out at the Borian with his foot.

We need to retreat! shouted the man. The dwarf laughed hollowly.

The point? Half of us are already dead! As he spoke the dwarf let a sword slip through his defences to strike at his side. He had already started to grimace in pain when he realized that the Borian was dead not he.

Then we avenge them, growled the elf ripping his sword out of the Borian’s chest. As he spoke a great horn blast cleaved the night. It was cut off suddenly, much too suddenly. Damn it all! howled the elf disengaging long enough to drag Araden away from his fight. The dwarf automatically started to cover their retreat from attack allowing the elf and man to carve an escape route. The dwarf winced as he watched his kinfolk fall under the blade of the enemy. The elf winced also when he was splattered with the blood of his friend.

He fell to the ground next to his friend his face torn with agony. The silver-haired elf shook the other desperately. The other couldn’t speak for the blood that streamed from his mouth. Araden tried to drag his friend to his feet but the warrior was immovable. The wounded elf’s eyes fixed on the grey orbs of his friend. Very slightly he nodded. The elf sighed and stroked back the other’s hair then stood and attacked the Borians with renewed fury.

The trio made the woods with a dozen others half of whom were staggering with pain. The elf pushed the dwarf to the front to run with Araden. The dwarf complied realizing that he was not fast enough to hold the back any longer.

The subordinate Borian smiled as he heard the frenzied soldiers fleeing through the woods. He peeked through the trees and caught sight of a trio of warriors. Each of the three races were represented. The Borian smiled. He had found his trophies.

Don’t kill those three, whispered the subordinate. Shoot the rest. As he listened to the whisper being repeated down the line the subordinate couldn’t help but imagine a promotion.

The survivors felt hope flare in their breasts when they saw that ahead the trees thickened so that the huge Borians would not be able to follow. Bloody swords spun into sheaves in the hope of more speed. Even hardy dwarves cried out in fright when suddenly the trees teemed with Borians armed with bows.

Down! cried Araden when he heard the bows twang. The dwarf and elf were saved by the warning. The trio shuddered when the air above them hissed with arrows. They trembled even more when they saw that their comrades had not been quick enough to survive.

Get up! bellowed the dwarf. Before they drop the bows! The dwarf put his short legs under him and started to charge trying to clear the way for his stunned friends. He buried his axe in the chest of one Borian and kicked another. Fortunately his friends were quick to recover. Araden twirled his sword in a circular pattern before slicing down upon the skull of another monster. The elf used a different approach. He slashed his sword back and forth forcing the Borians to move away or be disembowelled.

Freedom gushed into their veins when they broke free of the thick line of Borians. None of them noticed the guttural wail of fear from the defeated subordinate. For just a second it seemed as if they would escape with their lives but then a powerful voice broke asunder the night.

Use the bows, you oafs! The damned bows! Shoot them in the legs! The elf skidded to a stop and looked back his keen eyes finding the Chief Borian with little trouble. Araden dragged on his arm and the dwarf yelled hoarsely for him to run.

Go. Run away from here. I will follow, said the elf, snapping out his blade once more.

Come on! They’ll shoot us all! shouted the dwarf. The elf shook his head.

We’ll never make it. The trees offer a little protection but not enough against their numbers. The elf paused biting his lip. I’m agile enough to avoid the arrows. You aren’t. Go. The dwarf looked at the bows that were now pointing their way. He nodded and started to pull the man away. The man struggled only long enough for him to see that the elf knew what he was doing then he followed the dwarf into the bushes a little way off.

He’s insane if he thinks we will abandon him to hold off that army, whispered the dwarf. Can he do it? he added as an afterthought.

I don’t know, replied the man in an undertone. Maybe if we stay out of his way. As they spoke the elf charged into the face of the bows confident of his assumption that the Borians would panic. The two observers smiled when their friend cut into the screaming archers. Their smiles faded minutely when he engaged the Chief Borian in battle.

The elf leapt into the air swinging his blade down in the hopes of cleaving the Chief Borian down the skull. The Chief Borian smiled and brought his broadsword up to block the cut. The elf used his momentum and the stable platform of the broadsword to flip over the Borian’s head. He landed in a roll that brought him next to a small tree which he used as leverage to pop him back into the fight. He stepped forward with a thrust that the Borian blocked easily.

What is he thinking? hissed the dwarf. He should have killed it in the first move.

He’s lowering their moral, whispered Araden. He’s making the Chief look better than he is so that the other soldiers will be wary. The dwarf smiled.

Good plan. Araden nodded his agreement.

The elf dropped into a crouch to avoid a beheading slash and whipped his foot around tripping up the Chief Borian. It fell to one knee and the elf sprang up. He paused just long enough to let his eyes sweep the crowd of stunned Borians before he slipped his sword between the Borian’s ribs ending it. He smiled and spat on the corpse. They howled with fury but did not charge. The elf slashed open the Chief Borian’s face trying to goad them into battle.

Cowards! he hissed then sprang upon the still un-responding Borians. Without a thought he cut the eyes from one with his sword then whipped a dagger into the belly of another. Even with those kills however there were still over two score attacking and still more joined the fray.

Araden and the dwarf winced when their friend was forced into a twirl to avoid the head of an axe. Despite his quickness there was a red slash across his biceps. The elf dropped to his knees stabbing upward into the gut of a Borian. It fell to writhe on the ground and the elf turned his attentions away from it.

The elf did not notice as the subordinate Borian crept up behind him a stolen lance in hand. He did not see the satisfied smirk cross the Borian’s face when he became entangled in combat with three other Borians. He did feel it though when the lance’s barbed head destroyed his shoulder. He fell with a cry to the ground clutching at the wicked wound. Swords dived for his flesh hungrily but the elf was able to parry the most vicious cuts. Blood streamed from his chest and limbs as he climbed to his feet. The elf struggled to hold the lance in place as he turned to the new Chief Borian.

So you win, he said ripping the lance from his body. A tired smile graced the elf’s lips as he sank to the ground waiting to die.

No! shouted Araden though his voice was only a whisper. He started to scramble to his friend’s aid but the dwarf held him still.

Not yet! hissed the dwarf. Something is wrong. They should have killed him already. Araden looked at the dwarf in disbelief.

I’ll not have him executed.

Just wait and watch. Araden complied grudgingly when he heard the crunch of new footsteps. Both of the friends froze in fear when a man dressed in navy appeared. The newcomer looked at the captured elf kneeling upon the ground.

The night has shown some reward, remarked the man lazily. Tie him up. If he resists beat some manners into him. The dwarf and Araden watched transfixed with horror as the elf was jerked to his feet. The elf’s eyes swept the forest searching for them. His eyes locked upon their huddled forms and he shook his head. He jerked free of his captures hands just long enough to slam his fist into his open palm.

Araden thought he saw him smile before a punch to the abdomen caused the elf to double over gasping. Blood loss caused him to loose consciousness before the beating was over. The man watched as they dragged his friend’s body out of sight.

Check the area for survivors, called the wizard to the Borians before turning to follow the elf. Those words caused the numbness of the two friends to evaporate. They scrambled to their feet hoping to flee before the Borians could find bows.

Catch them! howled a voice. The man and dwarf ran trying to erase the image of their friend’s signal from their minds. It was a signal saying good bye.

Chapter 1:

Stranger In Town

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THE SUN PEEKED over the horizon, bathing a mountain town in weak sunlight. Somewhere in the town came the crow of a rooster. In a small red-shingled house Titas woke with a start, raising an arm to protect his eyes from the sun. He groaned and turned over, rising slowly from his cot. He could hear his mother and father stirring in the other room. By the time he had mustered the strength to go into the main part of the house his mother already had breakfast on the fire.

Morning, said Titas sleepily. His mother looked up and smiled in greeting. She was a small woman whose long golden hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back like liquid sunlight. His father, a strong man with close cropped grey hair, was sitting at the scrubbed wooden table. He replied to Titas’ cheerful greeting with a solitary grunt.

I expected you up hours ago, growled the man as Titas sat down at the table. I thought you were going to wake us. We’re now several hours behind.

Titas quickly apologized; he was used to his father’s grousing. It was mostly for his benefit.

Apologizing doesn’t help anyone, Titas. Now go and tell that spider Fletcher I’ll be late delivering his grain. Titas started towards the door obediently but paused when his father called to him. Boy, if he gives you a hard time you tell him to come see me, you hear?

Yes sir, Titas closed the door behind him but lingered, listening to his parents talk.

You shouldn’t be so hard on him Argus, he’s just a boy, said his mothers voice.

How is Titas supposed to run the mill when we’re gone if we coddle him while he’s a boy? My father didn’t coddle me and I turned out better for it.

Yes dear, said Mother soothingly, trying to avoid the coming lecture. Titas smiled and strode towards Mr. Fletcher’s house. Fletcher’s house was huge. It had two stories and at least eight rooms. Titas took a deep breath, Mr. Fletcher had a temper and he would not be happy hearing he would get his grain late. Hesitantly Titas knocked on the door. It was immediately thrown open by a tall, heavy set man. Titas inclined his head politely and smiled but made sure that his grin was meek.

Good morn, Master Fletcher. I have been sent to inform you that —

How dare you come here at this early hour! roared Mr. Fletcher How dare you wake me!

Titas attempted to ignore the distinct edge in the man's voice that spoke of his irrational disposition. Titas started to remind the man that the door had opened immediately but he bit his tongue. Fletcher’s eyes bulged, his enormous stomach jiggled with repressed rage, and Titas couldn’t help but remember how he was known as Spider. He also remembered how unpredictable the man was — and how mad. Titas decided to get the worst over with.

Mr. Fletcher, I was sent to tell you we would be late getting your grain.

Mr. Fletcher said nothing, but his face turned first red then white. Titas bit his lip nervously, then, no longer able to stand the silence, he spoke. Sir, your order will not be completely late; we just can’t complete it all today.

Titas was cut off by Mr. Fletcher’s fist. He dazedly shook his head trying to drive the ringing from his ears. Sir, I’m sorry but its impossible to complete your order when it is so large and the due date so unreasonable. By this time Titas had gotten to his feet but was forced to dive to the ground again when the enraged man took another powerful swing at him.

Getting angry, Titas leapt to his feet growling an incoherent threat. Titas dodged another blow before throwing a powerful punch at his foe’s ample stomach. Mr. Fletcher sucked in his air as Titas’ fist connected. Taking the opportunity to run from his larger foe, Titas fled home. He wasn’t afraid of Mr. Fletcher, he was afraid of his father.

Titas exploded through the door desperate to tell his side of the story before the Spider came. His parents looked up startled at the manner of his arrival. Before either of them could open their mouths Titas was recounting what had happened.

Easy son, slow down! Now what… the miller never finished though because there was a hammering on the door. Before Titas’ father could reach the door, it burst open. Framed in the doorway was Mr. Fletcher his eyes rolling madly.

Where is he? bellowed Mr. Fletcher.

John, there is no sense in acting the way you are. You provoked Titas. Again the miller was cut off as Mr. Fletcher bellowed in rage. For the first time in his life Argus was afraid, it was rumored that John Fletcher was losing his mind. Titas was opposite in his thoughts; he thought that now he had witnesses he could settle this without fear of punishment. Titas gently pushed his father out of the way and squared his feet, waiting for the coming swing. Argus started to protest but Titas shook his head slightly, silencing the man. He knew he may be young, but he had speed and strength on his side. Titas slowly circled Mr. Fletcher, altering his foothold so that if need be he could dive into a roll. The enraged man was too angry to notice the strange fighting style, most people just ran headlong into a fight.

The boy threw a quick punch to test Mr. Fletcher’s reflexes. The man dodged it and threw a punch of his own. Argus marvelled at how easily his son side stepped the clumsy blow. Titas threw a few more feints, then came in, in a whirl of fists. His foe stumbled backward from the ferocity of the attack. Suddenly the young fighter backed away leaving his enemy with a bruised and bloody face. Titas again took up his relentless circling.

I’ll get you for that boy! promised the Spider. Titas smiled wryly.

Of course you will. He was surprised at the confidence in his own voice. He should have been terrified. Even though he was muscular for his age, Fletcher out weighed him by at least two hundred pounds, and was an experienced fighter. Titas could see the anger building in the man, and was ready when he charged. Titas dodged many blows, but between the man’s two flailing fists was unable to dodge a vicious upper cut. Titas was sent flying to the floor, fighting back the endless darkness of unconsciousness. He heard his own father yell in rage, but before the man could even step forward, Titas was up and throwing punches so quickly no one knew where his fist was going to land next. Finally out of nowhere Titas’ foot flew upwards, landing a powerful blow on Fletcher’s face. Titas leapt backward as Mr. Fletcher’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. The man swayed on his feet and toppled forward, shaking the house.

How did you—?

Do that? breathed his mother. Titas shrugged, unconcerned.

It was easy, replied Titas, then faltered when his parents continued to gap. I mean he wasn't all that good. Titas chuckled nervously. Father you know I never bothered with brawls when I was younger so he couldn't have been that good if I beat him in my first fight. While his father just stared in awe, Titas noticed his mother had turned away. What is wrong? asked Titas.

Nothing dear, I’m just shocked. Eat your breakfast before it gets too cold. The woman never turned her face towards him but hurried to the room she shared with his father saying something about tidying up. Bewildered, Titas looked to his father for an explanation. The man just shook his head and followed his wife.

Titas sighed and nudged Mr. Fletcher with his toe to make sure he was still under. He jumped slightly when the man groaned. He began to wish he had just let the Spider knock him out. There would be trouble over this. Mr. Fletcher was an important man in town. He was one of the only people to own a horse. He was on the town council and he owned the most farmland. Titas couldn’t help but be worried; anyone that powerful should not be irritated. Yet he had knocked this man out.

Involved with his own thoughts, Titas never seen Mr. Fletcher stir; he didn’t notice the man’s hand inch towards his ankle. The boy yelped in surprise when something pulled his leg out from under him. He landed heavily on the floor, driving all the breath from his lungs. Titas kicked out with all his strength but his foot only met air. Too late, Titas' eyes searched for his foe. Fletcher was on top of him pummelling his face. Desperately, Titas slammed his elbow into the soft flesh of his opponent’s stomach. Mr. Fletcher rolled to the side gasping for breath. Titas leapt to his feet, darting out of Fletcher’s reach.

His father ran into the room, bewildered at the commotion. He saw the madness in John Fletcher’s eyes and went for help. He sped to the neighbour’s cottage as a crash sounded in his own home. The only reason he did not fight with his son was because John was mad with disease. He feared for his son, but when he had fled the house Titas had been engaged in combat. He hammered on the door desperately. A sleepy looking man opened the door.

My-my son he’s in trouble! Please, John has lost his mind! This man too had heard of Fletcher’s increasingly unstable mind. Without a word the man followed the miller to his house. Just as they neared the door the mad man was thrown from the house. They watched in utter astonishment as the Spider staggered to his feet and charged at Titas. Titas himself had followed Fletcher out to make sure he didn’t get back into the house. He quickly calculated how tall the man was, bent over as he was. At the last second Titas heaved his body upwards, his finger tips finding the edge of the door frame. He hung on just long enough to see Fletcher pass, then he let go, landing lightly on the balls of his feet. Titas turned to face his confused opponent. He couldn’t believe the madness in his foe’s eyes.

Titas slowly backed away, realizing that the fight would not end unless he stopped it. He had to get Mr. Fletcher into the open, otherwise the fight would get dangerous. Titas waited until Fletcher charged him again. In one movement he spun out of the way and brought a hand slashing down on the mad man’s neck. Fletcher was unconscious before his momentum wore out. The man crashed face first into the ground.

Titas’ father stared in shock for the second time that morning while the neighbour cursed. Argus, where did he learn to do that? The man called Lanis went over to Mr. Fletcher and checked his pulse. Lanis heavily hoisted the Spider off the ground. Go tend to your son, Argus. I’ll tend to this fat hog, grunted Lanis. "Hey, don’t worry ’bout this fool. Your son