By the Sword - By Sara Flower Page 0,20

the earth. They lost their intensity as they rose back into the sky.

Jalarn’s heart raced.

“They’re getting away, General,” said Waltez.

“I can see that.”

Jalarn started the chant again. He would not be bested by a little disturbance. The gale picked up again as funnels began to re-form at the base of the clouds, but the enemy was moving away too quickly.

Desperate, Jalarn yelled the chants. He willed the tornadoes to follow his enemies, but they would not cooperate with him. He gaped at his retreating foes.

The sky cleared. Bright sun shone into his eyes. Heaven was mocking him. No. Edandir’s God – whatever he was – was mocking him.

All of them had escaped, save one meaningless dragon.

How could I have failed with the prince’s power?

Jalarn clenched his fists and yelled at the top of his lungs. He turned to his knights, who stared at him with stupefied looks. He unsheathed his sword and stabbed the most annoying one through the chest.

“General…” began Waltez.

“Stay away from me.”

Jalarn shoved the commander out of the way as he strode over to his horse.

Ittonifer was not going to be pleased.

*****

In the dank, musty sorcerer’s lair, Jalarn stormed over to the bookshelves. He grabbed the master spell book and quickly flipped through the pages until he found the tempest spell. It was the very manuscript that had been penned by the prince himself.

I have done something wrong. I need to find out what that is.

Shifting footsteps approached from behind. Jalarn made out a rickety form in the dimly lit room. It was Aterun.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” growled Jalarn.

“Do you know who you happen to be addressing?”

Jalarn stalked over to the man and looked down at him.

Insubordinate old fool.

He wrung his strong hands around the elderly man’s bony neck.

“Tell me why that spell failed today!” shouted Jalarn.

Aterun wheezed. Jalarn lessened his grip.

“There is nothing wrong with the spell,” said the magician. “You just don’t have enough experience yet to know how to combat an opposing force.”

“You mean, conquer their God.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to show me how I can do this. I cannot have a slip up like that happen again. I gave Ittonifer my word that Edandir and his spies would be dead right now.”

“You are too hasty, young General. I cannot feed you meat when you are but a babe in the knowledge of the dark arts.”

“How dare you insult me, old man? I’ll have you killed!”

“You will do no such thing. I simply meant that you are attempting to accomplish too much, too soon.”

The gall of the warlock aggravated Jalarn, but the man was his only hope when it came to conquering the power of Sanctus’ God. He needed him. For now.

Jalarn ran a hand through his tousled hair. He would have to study far more than he had been. There was so much to know, and he needed to learn it all before the battle.

“Be patient. You want to know things that I have devoted many years to learn,” said Aterun.

“I don’t care!”

“No need to lose your temper. A good magician must remain relaxed and at ease in order for a spell to work properly.”

“You are going to make me into a master magician before the battle or…”

“Of course, General,” said Aterun.

It aggravated Jalarn that the scrawny magician never showed the slightest hint of fear in his presence. In fact, he carried himself with nearly as much confidence as Ittonifer. Jalarn would speak with his uncle about that one day soon.

“We’ll resume your education this evening,” said Aterun.

“How soon before we get into the meat?”

“Soon enough.”

*****

Chrissa had finished her evening spell book reading. She left the quiet library and traveled back down the candlelit hallway toward her bedchamber. She passed by her father’s study quietly, relieved that his door was closed.

He did not approve of her wandering around the castle alone after dark, but that never stopped her. Things were brutally dull in her wing of the castle. She would go mad from boredom if it were not for the great collection of books that were at her disposal in the library.

There were two muffled voices coming from Ittonifer’s room. Chrissa stopped and listened.

“I am deeply sorry, my lord,” said Naeshi.

Chrissa tiptoed to the door.

“After four incompetent senior guards, I thought that you were finally one that I could trust. Instead, you go after my daughter without my permission and corner her in an alley!”

Chrissa covered her mouth. How did he know about that?

“But…” started Naeshi.

“Silence!”

“My lord, she was taunting