Lusam: The Dragon Mage Wars Book Six Read online

  LUSAM

  THE DRAGON MAGE WARS

  BOOK SIX

  by

  DEAN CADMAN ©2019

  www.deancadman.com

  First published 2019

  This edition published 2019 by Dean Cadman

  Copyright © Dean Cadman 2019

  The right of Dean Cadman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any persons who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

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  Chapter One

  Lord Zelroth watched the gathered men and women of the Camusch with morbid curiosity as they knelt before him in silent prayer to Aamon. Incredibly, Cleric Zayin’s predictions had proven correct, and more than seventy of the fanatical zealots had answered the call to sacrifice themselves for their God willingly. Why anyone would ever choose to do such a thing, Lord Zelroth couldn’t even begin to understand—but neither did he want to. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was that he now had more lives to sacrifice to his Aznavor. He just hoped that they would be enough to appease Aamon’s increasingly incessant demands—at least for a while.

  No matter how many sacrifices Lord Zelroth had made of late, it never seemed to be enough for Aamon. He had already exhausted his prison population weeks ago, and the entire town of Bruecia had been cleansed of anyone who had ever been convicted of a crime, along with anyone even suspected of committing one. Even their immediate families and known associates had been taken into custody. In fact, Aamon’s recent demands had been so incessant, that Lord Zelroth had tasked one of his Inquisitors to weed out any non-essential servants from within Azmarin itself.

  Neither the soldiers he had sent to The Badlands to acquire more prisoners nor the soldiers he had sent after them had returned yet. Rumours of an uprising in the far south had been intercepted by his spies in several bars and taverns throughout the empire, but no hard evidence had yet come to light. Of course, if the rumours did indeed turn out to be accurate, he would crush whoever it was that dared to challenge him. But right now, he had more important things on his mind.

  The very thought of ‘rumours’ caused him to stifle a grin. Rumours about an uprising in the far south were not the only ones doing the rounds at the moment. Several other rumours regarding the fate of the remaining Camusch members who had refused to heed Aamon’s call were also currently circulating around town. Several of their bodies had already been discovered in dark alleyways with their throats cut; no doubt executed by the Camusch themselves as punishment for their lack of faith. But it was the fate of the other thirty or so missing members that had caused most consternation amongst them.

  His spies reported that the Camusch had been asking questions regarding their whereabouts all around town, but nobody seemed to know for sure where they had gone or what had happened to them. Some believed they were still in hiding somewhere in Bruecia, but most thought that they had already fled. There were no roads in or out of Bruecia. The town was nestled in a valley surrounded by high mountains on three sides. The only way in or out was via ship, and so that was the most commonly held belief as to how they had managed to escape.

  “And they were right… at least in part,” he thought, finally allowing the grin to spread across his face. Truth be told, he had never expected so many of the Camusch to come forward and sacrifice themselves willingly. But regardless, he always knew there would be cowards amongst them looking for a way to escape. And he made sure that he supplied that means of escape—or at least the illusion of it.

  He had known exactly when the request for sacrifices would be delivered to the Camusch leader, and he had made sure that only one ship had been docked that day. From the outside it appeared to be nothing more than a regular merchant vessel, unloading its goods onto the dockside and going about its business in the usual way. But inside the hold, it was a very different story. The oil in the lanterns below decks had been heavily infused with a magic-dampening herb, creating an environment that would render any magi impotent almost immediately. And, of course, the ship’s crew were really Empire soldiers in disguise, waiting to strike when the time was right.

  As expected, shortly after the request to the Camusch was delivered and their members informed, a few of them found their way to the docks looking for a means to escape. Transport was arranged, and they were all told to return after dark, which they did willingly.

  None of them suspected a thing as they descended into the bowels of the ship that night. But a few minutes later, when the soldiers were sure the herbs had taken effect, the hatch was opened and a flask of Nightmist was dropped inside. The men and women’s cries were brief as they inhaled the gas, as were the quiet thuds of their unconscious bodies impacting the hull of the ship.

  The crates which had been unloaded from the ship earlier that day had been empty but were soon filled with the bodies of the drugged men and women and transported directly to the gates of Azmarin. The next time they awoke, they were all in chains, waiting to be fed to the Aznavor. Their pathetic screams and pleas for their lives were still fresh in his mind, and his grin slowly grew into a broad smile.

  The first of the Camusch got to his feet and nodded that he was ready to one of the Darkseed Elite guards. The large doors of the room slowly opened, and the man stepped out into the hallway beyond. It was less than twenty paces to the Aznavor chamber, and Lord Zelroth watched the man intently every step of the way for any signs of fear or doubt—but he saw none. Even when the man arrived outside the door, he showed no outward signs of fear. He simply chanted a prayer over and over under his breath, ignoring all else around him. As the huge door swung open, the Inquisitor within the room immediately silenced him, preventing him from crying out in fear when he saw the awaiting Netherworld beast. It had been prearranged, so the other Camusch didn’t hear the screams of their brethren when they entered the room, but seeing the man’s calm demeanour, Lord Zelroth wasn’t sure it was even necessary.

  He spoke a single word of power, and the door swung silently shut behind him. He was curious to see just how committed this man was. He chanted a few more words of power under his breath and activated an old enchantment within the walls to prevent any sound from escaping the room. He had added the enchantment shortly after securing the Aznavor there but soon realised that he didn’t actually care if anyone heard the screams from within the room, and had never used it since. He silently communicated with his Inquisitor to release his silence spell, and also not to take control of the man’s mind unless he attempted to escape. The man turned to look at Lord Zelroth and nodded, but never stopped chanting his prayer. Then without a moment’s hesitation, he turned and resumed his slow walk towards the Aznavor.

  The creature strained violently at its bonds, hissing loudly at the man’s slow, methodical approach. Then it suddenly stopped and fell silent. It seemed to sense the man’s willingness to die and began to make a strange low rumbling sound. It was a sound that Lord Zelroth had never heard it make before. But the creature’s peculiar behaviour didn’t end there. When the man s
tepped within range of the Aznavor’s mind control, it didn’t react as it usually did. Instead of reaching out towards the man with its six long tentacles and becoming agitated at the prospect of its impending meal, it stayed perfectly still with its large cat-like eye firmly fixed on his approach. It didn’t attempt to take control of his mind or lunge towards him. Instead, it patiently waited until the man was standing no more than a few inches away from it, then turned in mid-air to lock its huge eye on Lord Zelroth. It hissed loudly and bared its razor-sharp teeth at him, before slowly turning back towards the waiting man. Still, the man showed no signs of fear, much to Lord Zelroth’s annoyance. Then as if to vex him still further, the Aznavor denied him the usual spectacle of swallowing its victim to the waist and eventually biting them in two. Instead, it closed its jaws slowly over one of the man’s hands that he’d been holding out in front of him, and from what he could see, bit down gently, barely breaking the skin.

  Lord Zelroth knew the creature was draining the man’s power because he could see it with his mage-sight, but its behaviour made no sense at all to him. He supposed the creature might have been fully satiated after being fed so much in such a short period—but he doubted it. Or maybe it had something to do with the man showing no fear, he mused, as the man’s death-pulse washed over him. Whatever it was, unless it changed soon, it stood to ruin a perfectly enjoyable day for him, he thought as the doors to the chamber swung open. As he stepped out into the hallway, he spoke a single word of power, and the Aznavor screamed in pain. Lord Zelroth smiled as he strode down the hall towards the remaining Camusch.

  Chapter Two

  Lusam watched as the remains of the dead Netherworld creatures smouldered and smoked in the midday sun. There had been no change to The Rift since he and his father had attempted to seal it the previous day. Aamon, for the time being at least, seemed content to remain sealed inside the Netherworld. But for how long, none of them knew. One thing that he did know, however, was that time, yet again, was against them. He and his father needed to fly north to locate the dragons. He smiled as he realised that finding them would be the easy part. Convincing one of them to bond with him—well, if what his father had said about the distrust between dragons and humans was true, that could prove to be difficult, to say the least. Not to mention extremely dangerous.

  Dangerous or not, he was keen to be underway as soon as possible. His father, on the other hand, had different ideas. He wasn’t content to simply leave the paladins alone to defend The Rift again while they flew north to seek out the dragons. Instead, he insisted on teaching the few magi there several key spells, including how to cure the poison that had killed Hershel and the others. And how to create the small clear globes which dispelled the darkness around The Rift, as well as a spell to prevent or slow the growth of The Rift, should it reopen while they were gone.

  Imbuing them with the knowledge of how to counteract the poison, Lusam could understand. But he questioned the efficacy of the rest of his father’s plan. Especially given the fact that he and his father were unable to seal The Rift fully. What chance did a handful of weak magi have? In reply, his father had pointed out the distinct advantage of not having the inky blackness obscuring The Rift. If the paladins could see the Netherworld creatures emerging, it would make them far easier to kill. And as for the remaining spell, he had no intentions for the magi to attempt to close The Rift entirely, only to slow or reverse its growth. He admitted that even with the magi all working together, their combined efforts would only be a fraction of what they had achieved the previous day. But no matter how feeble their attempts were by comparison, Aamon would have to use more of his power reserves to counteract them. And given the fact that they didn’t know how long they would be gone, that could add up to a considerable amount, and quite possibly tip the balance in their favour by the time they finally returned. Lusam had to admit that it was hard to fault his father’s logic, but it did little to dull his eagerness to be underway.

  Lusam heard Alexia’s voice carry on the early afternoon breeze and turned to see her issuing orders on the far side of the temple foundations. He marvelled at how effortlessly she had assumed command and gained the respect of the other paladins so soon after Hershel’s death. ‘Aysha has certainly chosen well’, he thought, smiling to himself. He was happy for her. But he couldn’t help that happiness being tainted by the loss of his friend, Hershel.

  “She’s doing a fine job, lad. I’m proud of her,” Renn said by his side, startling him slightly.

  Lusam nodded and kept his watery eyes firmly fixed on Alexia in the distance, but it didn’t fool Renn. He placed his hand on Lusam’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

  “He was a good man,” he said, pausing briefly. “I’ll miss him.”

  “Me too,” Lusam replied.

  Renn cleared his throat and nodded towards Alexia. “She’s got some big shoes to fill—but I think she’s going to do just fine. She’s taken to command like a horse to the meadow, and her new charges seem happy to follow wherever she leads. In fact, the only one questioning her leadership is Alexia herself. But that will pass with time, I’m sure.”

  “Speaking of command, what is she doing over there?” Lusam asked, nodding towards the line of paladins swinging their swords.

  “Oh, apparently one of the priests has discovered that the temple foundations are quite a bit larger than we first thought. We’d only uncovered about a third of it…”

  “I know,” Lusam said, cutting him off mid-sentence. “I could have told you that. I can see the outline of it with my mage-sight from here. But what are they doing?”

  “Alexia has ordered the entire foundations to be cleared of any undergrowth, so we will have more room to manoeuvre. During the last attack, it was difficult for everyone to seek shelter within the limited space and even harder to find enough room to swing a sword. Hopefully, it won’t happen again, but if we do find ourselves overrun by Netherworld creatures in the future, at least we’ll have enough space to fight back effectively.”

  “Oh, I see,” Lusam replied, feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t thought of it himself earlier. “I could save them a lot of trouble and have it cleared in an instant,” he said, striding off towards the foundations.

  “No… Wait, lad,” Renn called after him. Lusam stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. Renn took a deep breath and sighed it out as he slowly walked towards him. “Your father has already offered his help, but Alexia kindly refused it. You see, it’s not just about clearing the undergrowth, lad. It’s about giving those men and women something else to think about, other than their recent losses, and to help them bond with their new commander. She may or may not even realise what she’s doing, but it’s exactly what everyone needs right now. And we should leave them to it.”

  Lusam nodded slowly but didn’t reply.

  “Is there something else bothering you, lad?” Renn asked quietly when he saw Lusam’s shoulders sag a little.

  Lusam sighed to himself. “No, not really. I just feel so… useless at the moment. Most of the paladins are working to clear the foundations; the others are out in the forest with Neala hunting for food. Gods know, even Ryuu is out hunting stray Netherworld creatures in the forest. And all I’m doing is standing around watching.”

  Renn chuckled. “You can join me if you like, lad. I was just about to go and fetch the workers some fresh water. There’s a nice clear-running stream about a mile that way,” he said, nodding towards the western edge of the camp. “Besides… I could use the company.”

  “Sure. It’s better than standing around here doing nothing,” Lusam replied, kicking at the dirt.

  “But only just, eh?” Renn replied with a grin.

  “What? Err… No, I didn’t mean…”

  Renn chuckled loudly. “It’s okay, lad. I know what you meant. Come on, let’s go and collect some of their water-skins to take with us. We might have to make a couple of trips, but together it shouldn’t take us too long.”


  Lusam nodded and followed in his wake as he headed towards the toiling paladins. Renn wasted no time in collecting their water-skins, but Lusam’s attention was elsewhere. He had already spotted two large wooden barrels at the far edge of the temple foundations, and he decided to go and inspect them. He lifted off the lids and found that both were empty. It looked like they’d been used to store root vegetables, or possibly potatoes. The bottom of the barrels contained a small amount of soil, but it was nothing that couldn’t be washed away quickly in the stream.

  The wood of the barrels was dry and had shrunk to allow narrow slits of light to enter between their planks. There was no question; they wouldn’t hold water in their current condition. He knew the wood might swell again and make them watertight if he left them to soak for a while in the stream—but he still doubted it would be enough. The easiest way, he decided, was to use his magic instead.

  There were six iron rings on each barrel, and after a quick enchantment of the wood to strengthen it, he began to shrink each of the rings at the same rate. The barrels creaked as the rings tightened their grip on the planks, but a moment later the narrow slits of light inside the barrels were gone. A quick inspection using his magic convinced him that both barrels would now hold water, and with a satisfied grin, he levitated them into the air. He turned just in time to see an extremely over-encumbered Renn staggering towards him with dozens of empty water-skins. He had them tied around his neck, shoulders and arms. And those that had no leather straps, he carried in his outstretched arms. When Renn noticed the two floating barrels hovering behind him, he stopped dead in his tracks. Lusam could see the look of indignation forming on his face and was forced to bite down on his lip to stifle a grin.

  “What?” Lusam asked innocently, shrugging. Renn stared at him for a moment, then dropped the waterskins on the ground by his feet. He gave Lusam one last look and muttered something under his breath.