Shadow Phantoms - H.P. Mallory Page 0,20
the rock. It tossed them from side to side as they clung to their ropes in desperation.
Craning over the side of the cliff, I strove to see the mage (or ‘warlock’ as they would call themselves) who was doing this. It surely had to be Pagan.
Pagan and his inner circle were followers of the wild magic, the magic of nature. To them, magic was not something to be harnessed, it was something to be coaxed and channeled. They borrowed power rather than amassed it. This meant none of them would ever be as powerful a magic user as I was. But it also meant a single spell from one of them, if they could briefly ride the unbroken stallion of the wild magic, could be devastating, because it was the undiluted force of natural sorcery. It took skill to accomplish, and nature was unreliable and could let you down, but Pagan was known to be a master. He was a dangerous man, and as long as he was alive, my power base and the King’s Alliance itself, was insecure.
“Get down there!” I roared at my men. They needed to be reminded that however dangerous it might be down there, they would be in far more danger from me if they did not do as I demanded.
I turned to one of my commanders. “How do we get down?”
“High Mage?” The man looked taken aback.
“Are you deaf or stupid? I need to get down there!”
The commander rallied. “The castle path, High Mage. We can get down that way.”
“Gather a squad and follow me.” I strode towards the path with my personal guard falling in behind me. If Pagan wanted to hide behind spells, then I would go to him and fight him the old-fashioned way; one on one. I would kill him with my bare hands if I had to. There was part of me that reveled in that idea; magic was a wonder, and the power I possessed seethed gloriously within me as if I contained an ocean of it, but from time to time it was good to get down and dirty. I would beat the arrogance out of Pagan. That said, I probably would not have been quite so keen to face him without a squad at my back.
As we reached the steep path, worn into the rocks by centuries of feet, I glanced down to the bay and the pleasing chaos of the camp. I couldn’t see any of the Templar boats yet, but they were sure to have been stashed somewhere. Time to cut off that escape route as well.
This time, the fire ball I conjured was bright blue, and I threw it up into the night sky where it could be seen for miles around. Within moments, sleek speedboats, belonging to me, were dashing across the waves, weaving about each other, patrolling the waters of the bay and edging closer. They were all loaded with my men.
The Templars escape to the south, across the water, was cut off, and if they tried to run to the north side of the promontory, they would find more boats there, filling the bay on the far side between Tintagel and Barra’s Nose.
There was nowhere left for them to escape.
“Take as many as you can alive!” I yelled as I picked up the pace, eager to join the fight. I could taste blood on the air and my old warrior instincts kicked in. Power can give a man a thrill, but even the vast power I now wielded as High Mage and Lord of the King’s Alliance couldn’t match the thrill of combat.
With my men at my back, I charged into the fray and was instantly met by one of the Templar rushing towards me, flinging an ineffectual spell. I caught it and flicked it back at him with my own sting added to its glowing center. The pulse of energy eviscerated the man where he stood and I found myself laughing at the sight. Of course, I was the one who said ‘Take them alive’, but in the heat of battle it was easy to get carried away. Fun, too.
“High Mage!” A shouted warning from my commander alerted me to a man swinging a blade at my head. I ducked and rolled along the rocky ground, springing back up to meet the man as I drew a sword of my own. It was enchanted; lighter than it looked, sharp enough to slice the air itself. But if my attacker