A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (read this if txt) 📕

Trevor nodded. “That is what Glynna said when I woke up. I’m glad the cuirass gives me some protection. I can’t wear armor plate into the enclave if I’m to explore on my own. We might have to come up with a different approach.”

Potur Lott laughed. “You’re just scared a little magic has touched you,” he said. “Give it a day or so, and you’ll come around.”

“I hope it will be so easy,” Trevor said. “Somehow, I don’t think so. I was disappointed my lunge didn’t get to Gareeze Plissaki.”

“So was the Brachian commander. He said he never liked the man when he hovered around King Worto,” Potur said. “Now, we need to go over the maps that you brought back.”

“The maps,” Trevor said. He flexed the fingers of his injured arm, glad they moved without pain. He wished the arm was the same, but it pulsed, making him grimace a bit. “The three enclave maps aren’t the same. If all three show the same path, then we can assume that could be accurate.”

“It’s better than that,” Brother Yvan said. “Potur and I have been doing just that while you slept in this morning. We know which cabal drew which maps.”

Trevor tried to remove a few cobwebs from his brain left over from all the alcohol poured down his throat the previous night. “Why would we trust one version any better than another?”

Potur frowned. “There is that. Take a look at them. They are spread out on a table outside your tent.”

Trevor rose from his bed but sat down again, fighting off a bit of dizziness. Brother Yvan held out his hand and helped him out to the table. The maps showed different pathways and room designations in the enclave. They even displayed all the levels differently.

Looking at the three maps as a game, Trevor focused on the main pathways and corridors first. “We can outline the similar pathways in red,” he said. He traced his finger along the main thoroughfare. Although it wasn’t wide enough for two carriages, the Khartooians used rickshaws like the Jarkanese did, which would have to be the most common transportation method through the enclave outside of walking.

“It’s like an anthill,” Gorian Custik said. “I think trying to take it from the outside is a waste of time.”

Trevor looked up at the magician. “And what do you suggest?”

“Blow it up with magic or make it so ward-infested that the inhabitants have to leave,” Custik said.

“Or better yet, a combination of both,” Trevor said. He had to agree—the best solution wasn’t to fight their way into every nook and cranny but to flush the magicians out. “Let’s plan both ways. It is plain we’ll have to wait for the other armies to surround the enclave from land and sea.”

He thought he wouldn’t be able to think tactically with his injury, but the solution that seemed right flooded his brain. “We plan on a siege but watch all approaches all the time. Wherever the magicians leave the enclave will be weak points. We need to give them room to maneuver, but in a way that they won’t think we’re watching.” And for that, he’d need Lissa and her camouflage spell.

“Let’s go through the other maps to the city and get them out to the armies,” Trevor said.

They spent the next half hour going through the other maps and sent three-person scouting units with copies of the maps and a terse set of orders to the commanders in the field.

Brother Yvan helped roll up maps and notes for orders to be written and sent out. “When are we leaving?” the cleric asked.

“I’m going alone so I can bring Lissa back. I’ll need her hiding spell if I have to enter the enclave. I’d like her to spend some time with Custik working on a ward strategy.”

“Will you still need me?” Brother Yvan asked.

Trevor gingerly lifted his wounded arm. “I trust your healing more than anyone’s,” he said. He put the cuirass back on and buckled on his sword before disappearing from Maskum.

Chapter Twenty-Five

~

T revor checked his wound first and found it hadn’t changed very much due to the teleportation to the headquarters of the seers. The ancient room was dark, but Trevor had appeared there enough that he quickly found the door and searched for Lissa. He found her in the refectory talking to younger clerics.

She spotted Trevor at the door and ran to his side. “You’re hurt!”

“Not so much now,” Trevor said, hugging her. “Are you ready to return?”

Lissa nodded. “I wouldn’t say I’m in fighting trim, but I’m well enough to power your transfers.”

“I might need a little more of that. Let’s find the head seer and give him an update before we return to Maskum,” Trevor said.

The head seer was otherwise occupied, and Trevor was told to get something to eat at the refectory, and the seer would meet him there. It gave Trevor some time to provide Lissa with a more detailed account of his adventure on the Khartoo dock. He ended by giving Lissa the little stained glass pendant he had bought in the market.

Lister Vale finally showed up. Trevor brought him up to date.

“I’m worried about that,” the head seer said. “What kind of charm would hold up to that kind of power?”

Trevor lifted his tunic. “Scorched but not destroyed,” he said. “I’m sure he used an old artifact as a wand. That may mean only one Maskumite magician can handle such a weapon. He won’t be protected against an arrow.”

“So he stays holed up in the enclave,” Vale said.

“If I could get all the Maskumite magicians to stay in the enclave, we wouldn’t have needed to bring the armies,” Trevor said. “I need enough use of my arm to hold straight enough to